— Whaire are youse gaun?
— A party. For two. As in you ain’t invited, Simon emphatically says. Then he nods upstairs, adding, — If you want sorted oot, I’d get in there sharpish. Young Matteo’s just arrived wi a horse-choker ay a wad, dropping Forrester’s name like it was premium acid. I think he wants tae sort oot the whole ay Muirhoose.
Mark needs nae mair encouragement, pushing past us and storming up the stairs. We hear him hammering on Johnny’s door, stifling our laughter as we exit into the street.
We walk for a bit, step by step across the black pavements in the incessant rain. We’re soaked through by the time we get a cab doon tae my place at Pilrig. I put on the fire and go to the bathroom tae get some towels. Alexander’s shaving bag is still sitting there on the cistern. I put it in the linen press, in case Simon sees it. Heading back into the front room, a towel wrapped round my heid, I hand him another and switch on the answerphone messages.
— It’s Dad, princess. Just tae let ye know that Mum had a good night last night. Very peaceful. She was a wee bit agitated and confused cause ay the stuff they’re giving her …
Sweet Simon tightly grabs my hand.
— … but she sends her love and she’s looking forward tae seeing ye. Bye then, darlin … love you.
Simon intensifies his grip and kisses the side of my face.
— Hi … it’s me …
Alexander.
— … I was wondering if you’re around … Obviously not. Not to worry. Anyway, see you Monday.
Simon lets go my hand. An eyebrow raises, accompanied wi a wry smile, but he says nothing. Kelly’s up next, sounding squeaky and excitable.
— Whaire did you get tae? Saw Mark at the Hooch. Had a bit ay a fawoot wi Des. Too radge! Call us when ye git this message!
Simon looks at me, but we both know there’s no way I’m calling Kelly or anybody else right now. — She’s still with Des, then?
— Aye, but guess what? She telt us she kind ay fancies Mark!
— Hmm, says Simon, — the words frying pan and fire spring immediately tae mind.
I’m noddin in agreement as I go tae the fridge n pour some neat voddy ower they rocks ay ice, so cauld they make a sound like bones cracking. I look at the white powder in the placky bag Johnny’s gied us.
— You desperate? Simon asks.
— I’m okay, I tell him sharply. I like a bit ay skag now and then, but it’s no like I’m some fuckin junky like Johnny, Mark or Matty.
— I think it would be great tae go tae bed first, he says. — Make love.
I’m right into that. We go through tae the bedroom, and I’m taking my damp clathes off, struggling with this top, it’s stuck tae me wi the wet. Then it’s gone and I’m watching Simon slowly undress, carefully folding each garment, and thinking how, apart fae him, the best sex I’ve had is with Alexander, who’s aboot thirty-four or something. Older guys are better cause they really ken their way aroond a lassie’s body, but it took me ages to get him tae ride me. He let me suck him off, but it was like he kinday thought a blow job didnae constitute infidelity. Then he went doon on me, which was good, but I thought, ‘Fuck sakes, it’s Nora aw ower again,’ but the first time we shagged it was barry (as first times go). Then he sortay ruined it by talking about his separated wife eftir, and I telt him straight, if we’re daein this again, I didnae want tae hear any ay that shite. I don’t know if it’s because he’s no been with many women, or not for a long time, but it’s like he thinks I expect him tae fucking well mairry me! He’s giein his mind a wee treat, n that’s pittin it mildly. A barry lay, though. But Simon fucks like an aulder guy, like he’s got aw the time in the world, and he gets ye in a fair auld lather before he pits it up ye. He switches fae making love tae fucking and back again, so you’re eywis oan yir toes. Ye spend a night wi him, ye git yir money’s worth. And ye don’t think ay anything else for a while, and that’s what I need: no tae be thinking ay anything else.
We start snogging; dirty, wet kisses, and I feel something red and inviolate gather force within me. He whispers in my ear, — Ever had a guy make love tae you in your arse? I really fancy daein it that way.
I feel myself being pulled right oot ay the horny zone cause that doesnae appeal tae me at all. In fact that’s pittin it mildly: the idea of Simon’s big, fat cock up ma bahookay makes me feel queasy, but then that dildo that Nora left behind pops inspiringly intae my mind. — You can fuck me up the arse if I can dae it tae you first!
— What … Don’t be … how can you …?
I leap offay the bed, go over tae the wardrobe and pull the dildo doon fae the top shelf, strapping it on like Nora did, positioning the base on ma pubic bone.
Simon’s black pupils expand and gleam. — Where in the name ay fuck did you get that?
— Never you mind! I want tae fuck you up the arse first, I tell him. I swivel my hips, watching my big placky plonker move fae side tae side.
He raises a doubtful brow. — Aye, that’ll be right. You’re no putting that up ma erse!
— It’s only the same size as your cock, I tell him, though I think the dildo’s a bit bigger. But this flattery seems tae appease him, and his mouth twitches, and I see a germ ay contemplation spark in his eyes. So I’m imploring him: — C’mon, it’ll be fun. You can dae me after.
— Eh … I dunno about this …
— C’mon, Simon, it’ll be an experience. You’ll enjoy it much mair than ah will.
— Aw aye, he says, — how d’ye reckon that?
— Cause you’ve got a prostate gland tae stimulate and I dinnae. The male prostate gland’s a sensitive zone. My pal Rachael’s a nurse; she telt us aw aboot it. You’ve much mair going on up there than I have. Look at homo guys; they get off on receiving as well as giving, you know.
He thinks about this. — Gen up?
— Aye, I contend, as I start to slather the Vaseline onatae the dildo. — I willnae hurt ye.
He grinds his jaw, scoffing as if that prospect was impossible, — Awright, I’m game, let’s dae it. I’ll try anything once … obviously no wi a guy but!
— You’ll love it.
— Aye, right, he says doubtfully.
So he’s on the bed, crouching, legs apart, and his protruding bum is like a girl’s except that it’s a bit more muscly and hairy in the arse-crack. No that I’ve experienced lassies’ arse-cracks, but mair hairy than I can imagine them as being. I line up the end ay the dildo and push it in. His arsehole seems to give way a bit tae allow the bell-end entry, and then tighten around the top part ay the shaft.
— Oh … fuckin hell …
— You okay?
— Course I am, he snaps.
I push in a little more. Then pull out a bit, then back in …
— Oh … aw … that’s well nippy …
I push against him and he lets himself sink slowly doon oantae the mattress, and I’m oan top ay him, pushing in, and pulling out, fucking him slowly, more of the dildo vanishing up his arse as his body tenses and relaxes, then tenses again. He groans away, grippin the bedspread tightly wi baith hands, but he’s no the only yin intae this. — Fuckin good this, eh; me fuckin you up the erse like the wee Bannanay flats bitch ye are, I spit, enjoying it, turned on like fuck, dripping, working my clit with my fingers, the other hand clamped oantae his shoodir.