The Men in her Life

her in one giant push that made her scream. He paused, allowing her flesh to accommodate his, then he began to move just slightly, out a little, then in further, out a little, then in, further, harder, speeding the gentle rhythm to match her breathing, and as his thrusts grew stronger, her legs rose from the steps as if levitating, and finally the overwhelming mental and physical mixture of sin, secrecy and sex toppled her over the edge of orgasm. Her back arched and her pelvis jerked as she came until she had to scream at him to stop as the acuteness of the pleasure turned to pain.
    As he withdrew, she saw that his erection was still huge and hard.
    ‘You didn’t come,’ she said.
    ‘There’s plenty of time,’ he smiled cockily, pulling her to her feet.
    ‘I’ve got to go into work,’ she said. ‘My co-agent in Hollywood is conducting an auction for one of my scripts. I’ve got to be there...’ she was trying to convince herself of the necessity as much as him.
    ‘You can spend the whole afternoon thinking about what I’m going to do to you...’ Matt smiled at her.
    God, you’re advanced for your age, she almost said.
    ‘You need to shower,’ he told her, as he followed her upstairs, ‘your back has marks on it.’
    Holly stood with her back to the bathroom mirror, craning her neck to see the lines where dirt on the corners of the stairs had met with her sweat, decided she must definitely hoover more often, and then pulled off her clothes and stepped into the shower. She hosed herself all over then directed the jet at her vagina to wash the smell of latex and sex away. The water stung deliciously, confirming exquisitely what had just happened. She began to sing, loudly.

    Her co-agent in Los Angeles had rung to tell her that he had two bids of a hundred thousand dollars for The One and he hoped to come back to her with something substantially higher by close of business. Holly looked at her watch. Only another half an hour before the afternoon was over. She hoped that he had meant close of business her time, not his. She twirled lazily in her chair, thinking about what had happened and what was going to happen. Matt had told her to wear a dress and she had obediently pulled on the white cotton sundress he picked from the rails in the spare room. She couldn’t remember the last time she had worn a dress to work. As she passed Robert’s door he had remarked, ‘You look very virginal today,’ which made her shriek with a short gasp of laughter, as if she had been punched in the chest.
    Come on, she said to the phone, willing it to ring with the final offers for the script. She didn’t know whether to go straight home, or stop at Tesco Metro to pick up some essential supplies — wine, crisps, condoms, maybe a tub of ice-cream — so that they wouldn’t have to go out later. She suppressed the stab of apprehension that told her it had all been a strange joke and she would return to the flat to find a note saying ‘you didn’t really think...’
    Holly’s phone rang.
    ‘There’s a Matthew Darling for Holly...’ the receptionist trilled.
    Holly was the agent who dealt with any unsolicited scripts that the agency received. From time to time a writer wounded by her rejection of his script would turn up demanding an explanation, or, on one occasion, a fight. Since then, the receptionist had strict instructions not to reveal whether or not Holly was in the building.
    ‘I don’t know any...’ Holly began, and then stopped herself. ‘Send him down,’ she said.
    She let him find his way down the long corridor. There were ten doors he would have to peer through before he got to hers and she wanted him to be slightly nervous so that she could regain control of the situation. Then after a minute or two, she went to the door of her office to rescue him.
    ‘Matthew, darling!’ she said, kissing him on both cheeks as she did most of her favourite clients. He looked endearingly lost. She showed him into her office and closed the door.
    ‘Nice place,’ he said, regaining his confidence.
    ‘You’ve got a bloody nerve,’ she told him, ‘Matthew darling ...’
    ‘That’s my name...’
    Holly shrieked with laughter again.
    ‘Oh God!’ she said, as she saw that he was telling the truth. She didn’t know which was more unsettling, having him prowling around her office, the fact that she had fucked a man whose name she did not know, or that she had mistaken his name for a brilliantly witty swipe