Romance The Long Way Round

I started to move away, but I glanced over my shoulder to see her just standing there, sobbing loudly into the black sky like a lost child as the rain turned her hair to rats' tails. Cursing under my breath I went back and pulled her into a convenient office doorway. She fell against me, still sobbing. "Oh Paulie, I'm so sorry, I really am, I didn't mean it. God, I am such a stupid fucking bitch. The moment I said it I wished I could die. Please Paulie, I really am so very, very sorry." It was the first time since our re-acquaintance that she'd called me that. She was clearly totally pissed and we were both drenched to the skin. Still cursing myself I hailed a cab, bundled us both in and got her to tell the driver her address. Before she fell asleep, gently snoring on my chest, she whispered, "Oh Paulie, I'm sorry, we used to be such good mates, didn't we." I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, angrily trying to stem the flow of tears. Yes, we did, until I cocked things up by allowing myself to read more into it than that.

When we got to her home she slumped in a kitchen chair while I towelled my hair dry and made us both coffee. When I innocently asked where her husband was the tears started again. "He's at a trade summit with his slut colleague. Paulie, I'm so unhappy!" She had suspected for a while that Nick was doing the dirty on her; then, checking her e-mails one evening, she'd come across one to him, confirming a double room at the Grand Hotel, Lucerne. As she told me about it I felt a cold, hard rage that scared me. I literally wanted to kill Nick bloody Flower; I swear that if he had walked into the room at that moment I would have beaten the bastard to death. Okay, I had been a piss poor husband, but at least I'd never cheated on Mel. How dare that unworthy piece of SHITE do this to my sweet, beautiful angel? I stroked her hair and shushed her gently. When she had calmed down I turned to leave, then heard her say, "Paul, you can't go like that, you'll catch pneumonia. Look, why don't you have a shower, I'll get you Nick's dressing gown and dry your clothes out overnight." It was late, and if she'd shown me to the guest bedroom I'd probably have accepted. But I froze at her next, half-whispered words. "Please Paul, don't go. I was such a cow to you tonight, and you've been so good bringing me home, I want to make it up to you; to show you how grateful I am."

It would have been so easy. Turn around, take two steps, sweep up the woman who I loved with every cell in my body, and carry her to her bed. But I couldn't do it; not when she was too drunk to know what she was saying, feeling betrayed and emotionally battered, and was offering herself to me simply out of an unholy mixture of gratitude, guilt and misguided revenge. So I told her to go to bed and get a good night's sleep, and squelched off into the night to my own cold, lonely bed six miles away.

When Jenny asked me to come to her office on the Monday I was as nervous as hell, ignoring embarrassed glances from colleagues who had witnessed the events of Friday night as I wondered what she would say about her offer to me? The simple answer was, absolutely nothing. What she did say was, "Paul I wanted apologise to you again fro Friday night, and to thank you for seeing me home. You were a real knight in shining armour for me. Oh, by the way, can you forget what I said about Nick? He probably isn't really screwing his colleague, I'm just feeling a bit paranoid at the moment. We've been going through a bit of a rough patch lately, but we'll work it out." Trying my best to return her smile I assured her it was already forgotten. Once again, she caught me as I was about to leave her presence. "Paulie - I hate this...this gulf that seems to have grown between us. Can we be friends again. Please?"

I gave her a hug and said I'd like nothing better. She clung to me for a moment and whispered "Thank you Sir Galahad." My heart ached, and as I left her office a lead weight formed in the pit of my stomach. Over the next couple of weeks things were much better between us, and she smiled at me more warmly than I'd seen in a long while. She still had sad eyes though; and the situation was killing me - I simply couldn't stay around her any longer. Just as I was seriously thinking of resigning, and living off my investments for a while, my pal Brad in the Toronto office came through for me, big time. They were establishing a new global relations team, they needed someone to head it up and he'd been singing my praises. One ingratiating 'phone call to a Canadian director later and the job was mine! It was a dream come true. Toronto is the coolest, most laid-back city I've ever visited, Canucks are the friendliest, most welcoming people, and as for the girls...what better place to reinvent myself?

When I told Jenny my news she looked numb - as if she'd just learned that someone had died. She told me I was making a massive contribution to her team, that there were exciting developments on the horizon in London, etc etc - lots of sound business reasons to stay put. But they weren't enough, and when she saw my mind was made up simply shrugged and said, "Okay Paul, if that's your decision I can only wish you the very best of luck", then turned to her computer, dismissing me. The next day I received a memo from her PA saying that, in the circumstances, Mrs Flower felt it inappropriate for me to continue to attend team meetings, and could I send my deputy along from now on.

There were only two weeks to Christmas and I spent most of them tidying up my work and, with Brad's help, arranging an apartment rental in Toronto for the new year. Jenny went out of her way to avoid me. If she saw me coming her way she'd take a different route. If she couldn't avoid me she'd simply drift past with a vague nod, avoiding any eye contact. By the time of the department Christmas party, my last day working in the UK, I was thoroughly miserable, and desperate for our relationship not to end on such a sour note. I looked for Jenny at the party but she wasn't there. Just as I was starting to think she'd gone home, someone told me they'd seen her heading for her office. The light was off, but just as I was about to close the door, assuming the room was empty, I heard a small sniff. Squinting into the gloom I saw her silhouetted against the huge window. Hearing a second sniffle I softly called over to ask if she was okay. From the quaver in her voice it was clear she wasn't. "Yes, I'm fine Paul, I've just got a cold coming. Go away will you? I'll be out in a minute." I closed the office door, but with me on the inside. As I stepped silently across the deep pile carpet towards her I nearly tripped over her expensively tailored suit jacket, discarded in a heap on the floor. She was silent, staring sightlessly out of the window, but her tear-stained cheeks reflected the light from the street.

"No you're not okay. Jenny, what is it? Is it that cunt of a husband of yours again?" She shook her head, and pressed her fist to her mouth to suppress a sob. Hesitantly, I stood behind her and placed my hands gently on the padded shoulders of her sleeveless blouse, lowering my head towards hers. "Come on Jen, please. We might never see each other again. Not until you're appointed chief executive anyway. We've been mates for so long, it breaks me up to see you like this. I don't want this to be my last memory of you. Tell me what it is, please, I'd do anything for you not to feel like this. What is it?"

In the dark, silent room I recoiled in shock, my hands flying from her shoulders, at the despairing wail she emitted: "I don't want you to go! You're going to sodding Canada and you're right, I'll never bloody see you again, that's what's fucking wrong you stupid bastard."

I was stunned. Before I could stop myself I had said "Like you went to Glasgow."

She turned on me and shrieked, "Because you told me to!" Making a visible effort to calm herself, she said tightly, "Anyway, that's an hour from here by 'plane, not three thousand fucking miles away. Not that you ever bothered to get on the sodding 'plane." I saw her shoulders heave and waited for the dam of her emotions to burst. Then I realised, with astonishment, that she was actually chuckling to herself. Shaking her head wearily, she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. "Oh Paulie, you just don't get it, do you? You never have. I've had the hots for you virtually since the first moment I ever laid eyes on you."

I was dumbstruck. My jaw flapping like a landed fish, I eventually managed to stutter "But you never said anything."

"No, like a bloody idiot I waited for the man to make the first move. Only you never did, did you? Christ Paul, there were times when, short of ripping my knickers off and rubbing them in your face, I didn't know how I could make it any clearer." She sat back in her chair and regarded me appraisingly. "You know, for a very clever bloke you can be remarkably thick sometimes. I was nuts about you; the others in the office used to wind me up about it. Old Jim even offered to put a word in for me with you at one point. That day when I asked you if I should take the Glasgow job, and you told me to go, away from you, that was the saddest day of my life. I wept buckets that night -- my mum thought I'd been diagnosed with cancer or something!"

I slumped into a sitting position on her desk, my brain totally numbed by her words. Oh my God, how could I ever have been so stupid? I could have spent years with this beautiful, heavenly creation, kissing her, talking with her, making love to her...at that moment I wanted nothing more than to end my stupid, wasted life. Jenny's voice cut through my tumbling thoughts. "I spent years trying to work out whether you felt anything special for me, or whether you were just this really lovely, sweet guy who liked making me laugh. Then you told me to go to Glasgow, and then you went and married someone else, and I thought I had my answer. I cried again when I got your wedding invitation. I was in floods of tears the whole weekend of the ceremony itself. When Nick asked me, for the second time, to marry him...well, he seemed a nice enough bloke, and I couldn't see a reason to turn him down any more."

I wanted to beg her to be quiet, to stop turning the knife in my aching guts; but my throat was too constricted to speak. I felt a searing hot tear coursing its way down my cheek. Not noticing, she continued. "Then when I came back to London you were so cold, so cynical, I told myself for a while I was over you, despite wanting to reach out and touch you every time we were in a room together. But that night you took me home, when I offered myself up on a plate and you walked away - God, I wanted you so much that night - I knew you really couldn't fancy me. I even wondered if I'd misread you all these years, and you were actually gay. You're not are you?"

I think she smiled as she made that last comment, to indicate she was joking, but my eyes were too clouded with tears to see. Forcing my voice past the boulder which had lodged in my throat, I gasped, "Jenny, I love you so much it rips me apart to be anywhere near you. I can't remember a time when I didn't love you. I've never loved anyone else for a single moment. When you went away to Glasgow it nearly killed me. There hasn't been a day since then, not even an hour, when I haven't thought...oh Christ!"

Unable to go on I broke into howling, wracking sobs, my whole body shaking as I buried my face in my hands. I don't know how long I went on for. Jenny came to me and hugged me to her, her cheek against the crown of my head as I wept into her chest. She was crying softly too as she whispered to me "Oh Paulie, my poor sweet darling baby. Honestly, what are we like!" Eventually, after a minute, or maybe an hour, as my weeping began to ease, I felt her hands close around my wrists and gently pry my hands away from my face. A thumb stroked the tears from one of my cheeks. Tenderly she placed a hand beneath my chin and raised my head, murmuring "C'mere, let me kiss it better." A cool bare arm slipped around my neck and she pulled my lips to hers. I felt immediate arousal as her tongue slipped into my mouth, lazily circling my own. As I passionately kissed her back I hugged her to me, so tight it was if as if I thought I might merge our two bodies into one.

She eventually broke the kiss and rested her head against my sholuder for a moment, just whispering my name over and over. I was about to suggest we go somewhere else, in case someone came into the room and found us, when she slithered down my body, whispering "You wouldn't believe the number of times I've imagined doing this for you." All thoughts of going anywhere flew out of my head as I watched in stunned amazement as Jenny McAlpine-Flower, my corporate manager, the most stylish, sophisticated person I will ever know, unzipped my fly, reached her long fingers inside and released my straining cock. She examined it for a moment then, with a wicked glint in her eye, glanced up at my face and husked "Mmm, no scarring that I can see. In fact it's beautiful, just like its owner." Then she closed her mouth over it and my eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy as she began swirling her tongue around it, as ownership of the item in question passed from me to her. When she began slowly sliding her lips up and down the shaft, gently grazing it with her teeth, and teasing a long, manicured fingernail up my scrotum, I knew I couldn't last long. I wanted to be inside her, properly, before I woke up and found this was all just an incredibly vivid dream!

She grunted in momentary protest as I pulled her to her feet, but as I pushed her tight skirt up around her hips she gasped "Oh God yes" and reached for my belt. She got a fit of giggles as I struggled to get her tights and pants down. I dragged them off one foot and left them pooled around the other. Then her hands were back around my cock guiding me into her. As I thrust with all my strength she, gurgling with laughter, wrapped her legs around my hips, leaving me to support her weight with my hands gripping her bum cheeks. I felt myself losing balance and, hobbled by my trousers, managed to stagger over to a sofa by the office wall before collapsing. Now above me, her knees either side of me, Jenny bucked up and down, impaling herself deeply onto me with each thrust. Gazing up at her beautiful face, contorted with lust, I could hold off no longer, exploding into her like Vesuvius engulfing Pompeii as she clamped her lips to mine, roaring her own release into my mouth. Utterly drained by the emotional roller coaster I'd been riding for the last few minutes I sank into the sofa, my eyes closed. I felt something press against my lips and parted them to admit a small, firm breast with a soft spongy nipple on which I nibbled languidly. Emitting one of her sexy, throaty chuckles, Jenny whispered, "So, that'll be a no on you being gay then, right?"

It was several weeks later that I stood on a hotel balcony, wearing only a dressing gown, watching dawn rise over the breathtaking vista of Niagara Falls in the snow. My apartment in downtown Toronto was only a two hour drive away, but there was something wonderfully decadent about staying in a luxury hotel in such a romantic location. So far Canada promised to be everything I'd hoped for, and more. Naturally there were a lot of things I'd miss about England. And, of course, a lot of people...

"Come back to bed sweet-pea. I want to fuck your brains out again."

Amused by the contrast between the crudeness of the words and the tender tone with which they were spoken, I turned to marvel at my indescribably beautiful, soon-to-be-divorced fiancée, seductively lifting the duvet to reveal her long, pale body stretched out on the bed in all its naked glory. There's something incredibly intense about finally making love to someone you've been in love with for years, and Jen and I hadn't been apart for a single day - or night - since that evening in her office. We'd done a lot of making up for lost time; not just the obvious, but simply clinging to each other, experiencing the feeling of our naked bodies touching each other, talking softly about everything and nothing. Now every hour away from her feels to me like more valuable time wasted. We had agreed, at my insistence, that she take the job I'd lined up for myself -- Toronto had been delighted at getting the company's brightest star. Brad, our best man in waiting, had played a blinder for me and found me a post in another department. It meant a considerable drop in salary for both of us, but our future prospects were good and, besides, any sacrifice was worth it if it meant I could spend the rest of my life making love to, just being in the presence of, this amazingly lovely angel. I am so deeply in love with her that it sometimes feels as if my heart will burst, unable to contain all that I feel. I don't think I'll ever get used to the knowledge that such a fabulous goddess can possibly adore a berk like me as deeply as she does.

"Please darling," Jenny breathed. She shrieked with laughter as, in response, I bounded from the balcony to the bed and leapt on top of her. A few moments later she gasped with pleasure as my ready cock slid inside her. Our tears of love mingled as, for the millionth time, we kissed.