Page 17 of Festive Flings

I wake up the next morning after another spicy dream with my hand down my pyjama pants, yet again. However, this time it wasn’t a faceless man going down on me.

It was Mr. Matthews.

~ Owen ~

My driver takes me to Covent Garden to meet Suzy, but we hit traffic and I end up being ten minutes late.

I’ve known Suzy since we were at university together. We met shortly after I moved to England twelve years ago when I was offered a prestigious scholarship at Oxford University to study Professional Finance and Accounting. There has never been anything romantic between us, just the occasional friends with benefits situation that is mutually beneficial.

Suzy is thirty-one years old, a year older than me, and she is fit and smart. Tall with copper hair that has become shorter and shorter over the years, she has an almost elfin look about her now with her pixie haircut. She looks younger now than when we met. If there is a cosmetic surgery, she’s had it, from Botox to collagen, lip and cheek fillers, dentistry, implants, liposuction. You name it, she’s tried it. She could easily pass for 25 years old, especially with the clothes she wears.

Suzy looks good and she knows it, and that is only half the reason why she is a good occasional fuck buddy. She doesn’t ask too many questions and has no unrealistic expectations. It is strictly no strings, hedonistic fun.

Suzy knows me. She can read me like a book, and as soon as I walk into the bar, she is on to me.

“Owen Matthews, you have just rambled into this bar like a dog who has just been neutered. What’s up with you?” she asks through her wide eyes and laughter. In reply, I shake my head at her before closing my eyes.

“Don’t. Just don’t. I called you because you’ll help me forget why I’m walking about like a neutered dog.” She smiles and nods knowingly. “What are we drinking?” I add, pointing to her almost empty glass.

“Gin. Like that, is it then?” she remarks with an arched eyebrow as she wets her lips with her little pink tongue.

I look her dead in the eyes. “It's exactly like that.” She gives a little chuckle and downs her drink in one. We wait for the bartender to serve us and quickly drink those too before I suggest we leave already.

“Your place or mine?” she asks as she steps down from her bar stool. “Mine is nearer.” I nod my agreement. I don’t really care; I just want to fuck her, forget why I’m fucking her and most of all forget the blonde-haired angel who is causing my misery in the first place.

The good thing about Suzy is that she knows when to shut up. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to lose myself, and I can lose myself in Suzy for a short while.

As always, Suzy has pulled out all the stops. She is wearing a red lace Basque with matching panties and suspender belt. She strips off her outer clothes as soon as we are through the door. “You look amazing. Have you been working out?” I ask her and she nods slowly as she runs her hands over her enlarged boobs, searching for her nipples first over the fabric, and then under the fabric when she slips her fingers under the edge of the material.

She pushes the material down, freeing her large, round breasts. She pinches the little peaks until they stand to attention, and then she lifts each one to her own mouth and sucks them.

All this stuff, I have seen before. The first time I almost came in my pants; that's how hot she is. However, I get the shock of my life when I get to Suzy’s bedroom and I cannot perform. My cock, my usually proud as punch cock, refuses to cooperate and remains flaccid and limp.

Suzy sinks to her knees and sucks me expertly, but nothing she does will encourage the little fella to come out and play. I am completely fucked off now. Suzy bobs up and down for a couple of minutes until, eventually, I ask her to stop.

“Suze, it's not you, it's me. This just isn’t happening today. My head is frazzled. I just can’t switch it off.”

Suzy is understanding because this has never happened to me before. “Of course it isn’t me. Look at me, I look like a fucking goddess!” However, I don’t like her way of overcoming the issue. “I am afraid, Owen, that you will have to stop running and start talking about whatever has you rattled, mate. I’ve never seen you like this.”

Of anyone in the world, I know I can tell Suzy and she won’t judge me. However, the thing that holds me back is admitting the finality of how things ended between Jamie and I. Part of me feels like it can’t be the end, we haven’t even tried yet and admitting that it wouldn’t work is like breathing life into something I will give anything for.

“What’s her name, then?” Suzy asks me as we both begin to replace the clothes we had removed for nothing.

From nowhere, I tell her all about Jamie, how I feel about her and for how long I have felt this way. I explain to Suzy how I am not ready to let go.

Suzy looks at me pensively. “My buddy is all grown up. Look at you! Now, serious talk time. Why the fuck didn’t you fight for it? You gave in too fast, Owen. If it means something to you, then you have to fight for it.”

I don’t think it's as easy as Suzy makes it out to be. I can’t force Jamie to like me back, and besides, I really want her to like me and go out with me because she wants this as much as I do. I don’t just want today. I want forever.

“It's definitely what I want. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. She’s so cute, and she makes me happy.” Once I realised I had fallen in love with Jamie, I would find myself just smiling away in her company. An inexplicable connection seems to flow between us, and yet at times I questioned… Is this just me? Can she feel this too?

Every morning she greets me with my coffee and a smile, and she always adds sugar and cream just as I like it. I don’t even have to ask. That has become the happiest time of my day. Her little quirks, her very British ways at times, her feminine traits and the way she laughs. I’ve seen her weep for other people's woes, she feels so deeply and empathically that I just want to wrap her up in my arms to keep her safe. She leaves little post-it notes in my documents, encouraging me and reminding me that I am awesome and I can handle anything. She is perfect to me. Perfect for me. I just know it.

Suzy snaps me out of my wandering thoughts. “So, Mr. Matthews, are you going to fight for what you want or are you going to carry on looking like a puppy who had his paw stamped on?”

She’s right, and the more I think about it, the clearer my mission becomes: if I don’t want to be the proud owner of a limp dick, I’m going to have to help Jamie fall in love with me.

~ Jonty ~

---