Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 718(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 479(@300wpm)
We ate ice creams, and paddled in the sea with Lola and Peter, and after dinner, when they were off to bed for a kinky night in their hotel room, Julian and I set back off together, back to the beach.
We sat on the sand, and talked under the stars, and we began to make our plans.
Plans for our new life away from Crenham Drive…
“Where shall we go, then?” Julian asked me. “London? Tenby? Brighton? Manchester? Some tiny little village in the middle of nowhere in Wales?”
Julian had many suggestions, but I had only one answer.
“I want us to move to Oxford.”
“Oxford?!”
“Yes,” I said. “Oxford.”
“No,” Julian said. “Absolutely not. You’ll regret it when we’re there. That’s the last thing I’d want to put you through. Not in a million years.”
I wouldn’t regret it, though. Because just as he’d used the parallel of me not leaving him for the sake of my mother, there were some other parallels I could happily draw upon – and had done plenty of times in my mind.
I wouldn’t have left Julian for Mum, no, but I wouldn’t have left Crenham Drive, either. I wouldn’t have left her behind until she got the chance to see the truth for herself. About us. About him. About how great a person he was, and how much he adored me.
In Oxford, maybe, his family would see for themselves. A chance like that was worth taking. It had to be.
“We can’t move to Oxford,” he said, but I shook my head.
“Michael asked me to leave you and send you back home, but I won’t leave you, not for anything. But I will send you home, like your family wanted. I’ll just be coming with you.”
“You’ve no idea what you’d be letting yourself in for.”
“I think I do, don’t you?” I managed to laugh, with the crash of the waves as a beautiful backdrop. “We’ve been through plenty of it in Crenham, haven’t we? And we made it through. We’ll make it through there as well. And if Michael does what I asked him to, what I begged him to… if he asks any of those girls for real, he’ll begin to see the truth. They all will…”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then we keep waiting, until one day they see it for themselves. In us.” I nestled into his side as he stared at the waves. “Can we do it, then? Can we move to Oxford? You said you’d take me anywhere in the world I wanted to go.”
He chuckled, just a bit.
“I wasn’t imagining you’d say Oxford.”
“Will you take me there? Please? Can we get you home?”
He sighed and put his arm around me, kissing my head.
“You are my home.”
“Yeah, I know.” I was grinning in the darkness. “I guess we’ll just be living at home in Oxford though, won’t we?”
I soaked in another crash of the waves. I could practically hear his brain churning.
He sighed, and I grinned brighter. I knew him well enough to know the signs.
“Alright, then,” my boyfriend said. “Let’s do it. Let’s move to Oxford.”
I let out a squeal at that, and practically jumped on him, both of us a tumble of limbs on the sand.
I kissed him with sandy lips, and he grabbed me with sandy fingers, wrestling me to the ground underneath him, with my hands pinned over my head.
I bucked up at him as he tugged my dress down in the moonlight, and he paused as he saw my bare tits in the pale glow.
I’d already written it for him, while he was getting his suit on in the hotel room, jagged marker pen over my skin in the bathroom.
Yours.
He could write slut, or whore, or dirty bitch, or whatever he wanted to, right over me, but tonight, that one word said it all.
I was Julian’s just as he was mine, and that wouldn’t ever change, not for anything.
I just hoped that one day his family would see the truth of it… just like mine had.
Epilogue
Two years later
Rosie
Who’d have ever thought I’d be in an upmarket suburb in Oxford on the eve of my twenty-first birthday, welcoming in my special day with a fifty-year-old man brandishing a whisk as a sex toy.
“Come on,” Julian said, with a smirk. “Call it a birthday present. An early one.”
The whisk he was holding was new, and bigger. He tapped it against his palm to make it rattle, and my pussy tightened at the thought.
“I’m not using that for the main cake, Julian!” I told him. “No way!”
“You’re not making your own main cake, Rosie. You’re making a little pre-birthday dessert for just the two of us. Let’s ice it with something sweet, shall we? Something really sweet.”
As if I could ever resist him…
His eyes were full of filth, and mischief, and I couldn’t help myself. I never could. I shunted my mid flow cake making efforts to the side and hitched myself up on the worktop. The marble worktop. It was cold on my ass when Julian pulled my panties down and off in one swift motion. I put my heels up either side of me on autopilot, spreading my legs open wide without a care in the world, just for Julian – savouring the joy on his gorgeous face.