9. Gully
Gully
M e: I got your note.
Iris: Good. What are you going to do about it?
Me: Nothing.
Iris: You surprise me. I’m lying here in bed, with my hand in my underwear, almost at that perfect point.
Me: Enjoy. I’ll be thinking of you.
Iris: You could come in here and help out.
Me: I could. I like the idea of you begging me though. The thought of that’s getting me harder.
Iris : I’m not going to beg you.
Me: We’ll see.
I’d turned my phone on silent, knowing being ignored would piss her off. She’s taken revenge by making it very clear what she was doing, which was touching herself, resulting in what sounded like a fucking amazing orgasm.
I stayed quiet for mine, which I was well practiced at by now. I figured she’d be listening out for me, so to not hear anything would be another form of torture.
The following morning I went into her room at vomit o’clock wearing thin sweats and no top, because while she was going to feel rank for fifteen minutes, she always picked up straight afterwards.
Clearly she’d decided that two could play this game.
Bed clothes for Iris was usually a T-shirt and sleep shorts.
Not today.
Today she was wearing a tight silky vest which didn’t hide any of what was underneath, and a pair of brief, lacy knickers. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at the photos from a couple of days ago, her cheeks flushed.
“I don’t think I’m going to be sick.”
I frowned at her. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “It’s been getting better every day, and today I just don’t feel like it’s going to happen. My boobs feel heavier though.” She sat up straighter, giving me a really good view of her tits.
I cursed quietly, which she heard.
And smiled at.
“We have a change in clothing.” I gestured to what she had on. “Looks chilly.” Her nipples were poking at the material of her top.
“I felt in the mood to wear something sexier.” Iris stood up and stretched, showing off.
I looked because why not? That was clearly her point.
“Did you enjoy yourself last night? I sent an apology text to the neighbours this morning in case they were disturbed.” I obviously hadn’t.
“Very much. I’m wondering if it was the orgasms that stopped the morning sickness. You know, the feel-good hormones they give – maybe that’s had a really good effect.”
“Maybe.” I wasn’t concerned that the morning sickness had stopped, I also wasn’t going down the nonsensical route of orgasms or sex hurting the baby. I knew from Finn blurting out too much information that pregnancy could have a really strong effect on a woman’s libido, because Ruby had almost worn his dick out when she was pregnant with Elias, which he’d complained about after a couple of extra pints in the Puffin Inn.
She folded her arms under her tits which made them even more prominent. I took the opportunity to look at them, grinning at her when I finally shifted my eyes to hers.
“You can touch them, if you like.”
I shook my head. “I’m good, thank you. I’ll just think of them when I have a shower.”
“Okay. You do that.”
We were having a stand-off, clearly.
My eyes slipped back to them. “How sore are they?”
“Tender. Heavy. You’d need to be gentle with them.”
I nodded. “I can be gentle with my fingers and my mouth. Just little touches, you know. Nothing rough.”
Her expression stayed stoic.
I glanced down at her underwear. They were champagne in colour, apart from between her legs, where it was darker.
Fully aware I had a notable erection, I looked her up and down, lingering on her pussy and tits, the slight curve of her belly cooking something inside me that I hadn’t felt before.
“You might need to give yourself some more relief. You look needy.” I pointed between her legs.
She glanced down and then looked at me. “I’ll appreciate the water pressure while I’m in the shower then.” Her wink nearly broke me.
It was fun and infuriating in equal measures for the rest of the day. We made as many excuses as possible to be physically close to each other, body parts being brushed, a lot of skin on show and a distinct lack of a bra on Iris’ part. I spent the day with a constant semi, which became painful in parts I wasn’t sure had previously existed. The banter that’d been there before Iris’ request returned, turning into banter with an undertone of flirting.
Teasing.
Jesting.
Brief accidental touches while we were both in the kitchen area, Iris seemingly coming up with any excuse to touch my ass or my abs, my hands often on her hips or her shoulders, a whisper into her ear so it tickled the side of her neck – tension was built like a tower of cards, and it would only take one deliberate kiss to have it toppling down and setting our worlds on fire.
“All you have to do is ask and I’ll help you have an orgasm,” I said, as she looked at the photos of us for the eleventeen hundredth time. I wasn’t sure if she was looking at them for a reason, or she was trying to torture me.
Or both.
Probably both.
“I imagine your hand’s suffering from repetitive strain injury by now. I know what it’s like to live with me – sheer torture.”
She looked up from her laptop. “You are rather full of yourself, aren’t you?”
I gave her my best blue steel gaze. “I can’t help looking like this.” I gestured down my torso, which was bare. I’d turned the heating up to make it bearable as it really wasn’t warm outside.
Iris sat up straighter and assessed me with eyes that weren’t full of lust, which was disappointing.
“Do you have a spare hour?”
I frowned. “To give you orgasms?”
She laughed and shook her head. “No – to take some photos of you.”
The frown stayed etched on my face, possibly permanently indenting lines on my forehead. “With or without clothes?”
“Without. Humour me.” She put her laptop down on the sofa next to her and stood up. “Between you and me, Zoey wants me to do a boudoir shoot with her, which I haven’t done for ages. I need to use a house as I’ve said I’ll sort the venue because the flat above the Puffin Inn isn’t appropriate, so I was going to ask if I could use here.”
“Of course. I’ll go and work at the inn for the day so you have privacy here. Back to excuses to see me with no clothes.” I gave her a grin, but it wasn’t as full on as before.
Iris nodded, stretching, which did nothing to help the continued state of arousal I was still in, her white vest stretching over her tits, her nipples almost obvious.
“I want to test the lighting.” Her smile bloomed. “And see you naked. Not going to lie.”
I nodded, feeling slightly nervous about it. “You know I’m going to be hard while you’re doing this.”
“I can work with that.”
“Really?” I sounded like a dog who’d heard the word ‘walk’.
She shook her head but she was smiling. “Give me half an hour to set up.”
“Need me to do anything to prepare?”
“Don’t overthink it. Or go and do a gazillion sit ups or something stupid like that. I can make your abs look better when I edit.” Her grin was designed to provoke.
“I’m an easy client for you then. Not much editing needed.”
Her laugh made me smile.
Half an hour later I was directed into one of the spare bedrooms, which had been made over to be a bedroom that looked like someone had just had sex in it. The bedclothes were rumpled, some of Iris’ underwear was deposited on the bed, and there was a huge lighting set up that made it feel anything but intimate.
I was in my sweats and nothing else, my hair rumpled and my body scrubbed, because I’d jumped in the shower mainly because I didn’t have much else to do – focusing on writing wasn’t happening in the time I was waiting for this to start.
“How do you want me?”
She smiled at the words, knowing exactly what I meant. I took in what she was wearing; a tiny skirt and the same tight vest.
“What will you wear for the shoot with Zoey?” Because I didn’t like the idea of her wearing that in front of anyone else.
Another smile. “Sweats and a T-shirt. This is for your benefit, Gul, don’t worry.”
“Just mine? You wouldn’t wear it in front of anyone else?” I sat on the bed but I was anything but relaxed.
She shook her head, any teasing having left the room. “Just you. I promise – just you.”
Her eyes met mine and at that point I was destroyed.
I could feel a crackle in the air, the hairs on my arms standing up, my muscles tensing. I watched Iris set up the camera, taking a few shots, an eye on me. That skirt was short, miles of legs exposed which I wanted to explore with my hands and tongue when I got to the top.
I still remember how she tasted. I was happy to have a reminder.
“Lean back against the headboard and look towards the window. Stick a cushion over your cock, Gully. You look like you’re setting up a tent.” She was bossy but smiling.
“I know a way you could sort that tent out.” It was going to be me begging at this rate.
She glanced at my erection making it a hundred times worse. “This is a boudoir shot, not porn.”
“I can’t help it. That skirt’s the stuff of fantasies. Are you wearing anything underneath?”
“I’m not answering that. Do as you’re told.”
I followed her instructions, living for her nods of approval. I was posed partially under the duvet, lying on top with her standing over me, looking out of the window with a blanket hung between my legs to conceal my cock which wasn’t behaving. She had me roll on my stomach, on my side, against the door.
“Take your sweats off.”
I stilled. “This is just an excuse to get me naked, isn’t it?”
This time her smile was tinged with sweetness. “Honestly, no. Complete transparency here, I think I’m going to combust. But in the name of art, strip.”
I rubbed my ear. “We don’t have to do this. You know you’ve sorted the lighting for the shoot with Zoey. We can stop now if you want to save yourself the embarrassment of begging.”
“I always finish what I start.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Absolutely.”
I lost the sweats, feeling suddenly self-conscious for one of the first times in my life. My body wasn’t perfect, but then, no one’s was. I had a scar on my stomach from where I’d had an emergency appendectomy, and another scar on my ribcage from a fight with Roe when we’d ended up rolling down an embankment and a piece of glass had gotten stuck there, luckily only doing superficial damage. I was pale at the moment, having not seen any proper sun for months and I was probably leaner than I liked to be, choosing running recently over the weights.
“You’re beautiful.”
Iris’ words hung in the air like fireflies.
“I’m really not.”
She shook her head. “To me you are, and isn’t that what matters?”
I relaxed. Breathed. “It’s the only thing that matters.” The words couldn’t have been more raw than if they’d been scrubbed with sandpaper.
“Lie back on the bed, head propped up and pull the sheets over your cock.”
I followed her instructions again, my brain managing to make my body do what it was told without me being that cognizant, because all I could really focus on was Iris.
The shoot that she needed to do was over. The photos she’d taken already were the ones she’d share with Zoey to give her an idea. Iris would probably use a few of them for her portfolio as well.
The ones she was taking now were for personal use only.
The expression she wore mirrored mine. Suppressed desire. The brief battle between us about who would give in first was over, a draw called, because neither of us were going to leave this room until we were completely satisfied.
I started to pose of my own volition, sitting on the edge of the bed, casting moody glares at the photographer, my hand on my cock barely hidden by the tilt of my torso. There was no way of hiding how I was feeling right now. I didn’t want to hide it.
I moved in front of the window, the shutters tilted for privacy even though there wasn’t any need. I looked out through the shutters, no longer concealing my arousal, aware of the bead of pre-cum at the tip that Iris would definitely notice.
“Tell me,” I said, not looking at her. “Are you wearing anything under that skirt?”
There was a pause. Stillness.
“No.”
I had my answer.
“Good girl.” I turned to her, my hand on my cock, stroking it slowly. This was indecent now, all of it. Iris’ cheeks were flushed, her movements slower. “Why did you leave them off?”
“Because they were only going to be soaked.”
I leaned against the shutters. “Tell me how wet your pussy is?”
She put the camera down. “My thighs are sticky.”
I nodded, keeping my hand gripped on my cock. “Take your skirt off and let me see.”
There was a moment of hesitation. “I’m not begging - ”
“You don’t need to beg. Not right now. Take it off.”
She undid a zip and pushed the skirt down over her hips, leaving her bare in front of me from the waist down.
“Lose your top. Not that it’s hiding anything anyway.” Which was her point.
She pulled it off over her head, and stood still, letting me take in the curves of her body, the swell of her breasts, the very gradual slope of her belly.
I was desperate to fuck her, desperate to be inside her, to feel her come on my cock, to have her underneath me, holding on while we became as close as two people could get.
But not today.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” It was true. She was and I knew she always would be, a conviction I was never going to give up. She was it for me.
Iris laughed, self-conscious, but there was a steely confidence there. “Maybe today.”
“Maybe forever. Lie back on the bed and spread your legs.” I didn’t move, staying right where I was, watching.
Memorising every second of this so I never forgot a moment of it.
Her lips curved in the slightest of smiles and then she sat on the bed, moving cushions and pillows, propping herself up before her eyes came back to mine.
“You want to watch me touch myself?”
I nodded. “I want to see how you play with that pretty pussy.”
She watched me as her hands grazed over her body, over her tits, toying with her own nipples and then down over her stomach. Her fingers started to explore between her legs, and I finally moved from the window so I could see better, aware of the tight pull at the base of my cock that told me how close I was.
“Your fingers are shining.”
She nodded, holding up the hand that had been playing with herself. “Taste me.”
I did as she asked, sucking on each finger individually, taking my time. Iris took hold of my cock with her other hand and stroked up and down it, slowly teasing.
I broke, cupping her sex with my hand, groaning at the wetness I found there. I teased around her entrance, pressing the tip of a finger inside her, hearing her breath catch, then I put my attention on her clit, circling and rubbing, her moans becoming louder, her breathing heavier. Her hand on my cock moved erratically and I knew, thankfully, she would come before I did.
Her eyes stayed on mine as her body started to writhe, her hips bucking, her pussy becoming wetter. I fingered her briefly as her orgasm subsided, the sensation enough to bring about my own release and I came over her hand and my stomach, incoherent words erupting at the same time.
I’d sat down on the bed, my legs unable to hold me any longer, my lungs feeling as if I’d just completed a marathon with a personal best.
“Neither of us begged.” She kept her hand on my cock.
“There’s still time.” I took a long look down her body. “Lots of time.” I moved over her, aware that we were both messy and not caring, kissing her was more important.
“We should clean up,” she said, when the kiss ended. “Want to save water?”
“Sounds practical.”
We showered, actually keeping it practical, although my cock was definitely awake and her tits had a really good wash, and then I showed her where I’d booked for the next two nights. It was a hotel in the centre of York, an old stately home where someone royal in the sixteen hundreds had stayed. Both of us had been to York before but not for a while, so there was a quick discussion about what we wanted to do, given that the weather was likely to be typically shit.
Iris lay on the sofa, looking somewhat sated, but there was a gleam in her eye that told me trouble was still on the horizon. There was only so long we were going to hold out having sex for because I wasn’t a stupid enough man to cut my nose – or penis – off to spite my face.
I’d told myself already that we wouldn’t be having sex tonight. As much as I wanted to, as much as I was seeing that she wanted to, there was no reason to rush this.
I needed to show her that this wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t about convenience, a forced-proximity situation with a baby that would tie us together for the rest of our lives. It was about her. Her and me.
I leaned over her and pushed her T-shirt up to expose her stomach, kissing just below her belly button.
“I can’t wait for the scan.” I remembered my brothers before the twelve week scans for their kids and how nervous they were and how bad they were at trying to hide it.
“Me neither. I can’t wait to have a proper baby bump as well.” She pushed her fingers through my hair. “I know my body’s going to change forever but I’m not bothered. I want this baby so much.” Her eyes moved off her belly to me.
I wasn’t sure of what the right words were, so I leaned further up and gave her a kiss, one that was soft and lingered. Her hands caught my shoulders, adjusting us so I was over her and her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me down on top of her.
“Don’t you feel like we missed out on the baby-making bit?” There was hurt in her eyes. “The fun bit.”
“No. Not really.” I kissed her again. “But we can catch up on that part. Soon.”
She groaned, the sound vibrating through me. “I really want you inside me.”
“Are you about to beg?” I sat back up, careful not to put any weight on her.
Her eyes turned icy, the sort of ice that would melt easily.
I laughed at her, my hands sliding underneath her to cup her ass. “How long are we going to carry on this standoff?”
“Until you give in.” Her grin was victorious.
Her morning sickness seemed to have turned into evening sickness, with an unexpected dash to the bathroom just before we were heading to our separate beds.
I followed behind her, knowing the signs, feeling worried because this was a change and I wouldn't feel secure enough in any changes until we’d had that scan.
I held her hair back while she vomited, sitting behind her so she could feel my body heat because I knew she felt the cold when she was throwing up.
“Fuck,” she cursed. “I thought we were done with that.” She sat back against me, tipping her head back against my shoulder.
“Do you think we can have the scan done sooner?” I pressed my lips to her shoulder and kissed her. “Like tomorrow morning?”
“I don’t think this is a bad sign. Why, are you worried?”
“A little. I’d just rather have some reassurance.”
She nodded. “Let’s phone the cottage hospital in the morning and see what they say. God, I feel out of it now.”
“Let’s get you into bed.”
She brushed her teeth and threw water on her face before attacking it with moisturiser. I hung around, pulling the covers back so she could get straight into bed, which she did, surprised when I got in with her.
“Come here.” I turned on my side and pulled her in towards me, her ass curving into my stomach, my legs entwining with hers.
Iris took my hand and arranged it near her breasts, pushing it under her top. I was happy to leave it there, happy never to move if that was what she wanted.
“Will I wake up to find you gone?” She sounded sleepy already.
“No. I promise that you won’t.” It was a promise I’d have no trouble keeping.