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“No, you don’t look like Mr Vanilla, especially not when you’re up at the podium rallying the world into action.”
“Honestly, Cass, I must get pushed at least three hundred times a week by the guys in the office to just go and get my dick wet, but I don’t work like that. That definitely doesn’t make me Mr Vanilla, though. Jo wasn’t a Miss Vanilla kind of woman for starters.”
“No?”
I smirk. “No. She very much wasn’t.”
Cass doesn’t look like she’s going to push it, even though she’s still looking at the picture onscreen, so I opt to be the one to keep the conversation open.
I love how easy it is to laugh with her. My face must be lighting up as I give her a revelation.
“Jo can have quite a bossy way about her when she’s ordering things about in everyday life, but not in the bedroom. She loves having her tits slapped as much as she loves having them worshipped, and she’s crazy about anal.”
“Nice,” Cass says with a smile.
“She loves having her hair pulled too, and a decent slap on the ass when she’s on all fours. It could be rough, in fairness. Rough but very, very loving. It’s not one or the other, like people often seem to think it is. You know that though, I’m sure. Much more than I do.”
I’m grinning, making light of it, and so is Cass when she gives me a fake high five, and it’s a great thing to have someone laughing along with me, without the judgement of the people at work tutting and sneering and telling me to find some pussy to fuck.
I love having a pussy to fuck, as well as an ass and mouth to fuck along with it, but only if they’re connected to someone I care about. Casual isn’t in my nature – not in any context.
I use the opportunity of the conversation to reassure Cass that I think no less of her whatsoever for her sex life with Ant.
“I meant what I said, you know. I really don’t judge people. What people like in the bedroom is what they like in the bedroom, and that’s great. My issue is when people are pushed into doing what they don’t want to do.” I pause. “As long as you enjoy what you do with Ant, that’s fantastic. I’m very happy for you.”
I give her a fake high five, but I keep a close eye on her expression. Her smile seems genuine and bright when she responds.
“Yeah, I enjoy what I do with Ant. I hadn’t done that kind of thing before I met him, so it was… interesting. But I like it.” Her eyes are on mine as she keeps on smiling. “I love it. He’s great.”
My gaze lingers in case she wants to elaborate, but she doesn’t. Maybe it’ll come to that stage one day, where we’re close enough friends that she’ll tell me her secrets, but we’re not there yet. She flicks through to the next picture on my phone, clearly wanting to change the topic.
I know what she’s looking at. Her eyes sparkle.
It’s the very first picture Jo and I had taken. Me in my prince charming outfit with her at my side.
“Wow, that really is quite a shot,” Cass says, turning it to me.
“Yeah, it is. The beginning of the journey.”
Just a shame that journey didn’t end with a happy ever after, but I don’t add that bit.
Cass gives me a mischievous smile.
“Do you still have it? The prince costume?”
“Yes,” I admit. “It’s upstairs in the wardrobe. I couldn’t ditch such a beauty as that.”
I was being sarcastic, but her giggle is divine as she claps her hands.
“Can I see it? Please?”
“In the wardrobe? Be my guest.”
“No! On you!” she says. “Please! Go on. Show me.”
I point at my stomach. “Not sure it’ll fit me with pizza belly.”
“Give it a go!” she says with another clap of her hands. “Go on, please. PLEASE!”
How can I resist a smile like that? I put my pizza box down and shift my butt up from the sofa and she exclaims with a YES!
I’m already laughing to myself as I dash upstairs, since I haven’t worn the thing in years. I pull it out of my wardrobe, and its light blue jacket and white ruffled shirt look as cringeworthy as ever. Add the trousers, turned up at the knee, the high white socks and buckled shoes, and I look like I’ve stepped straight out of a pantomime.
I have to breathe in hard to get the shirt buttoned up on me, grateful the huge ruffles hide the strain, because yes, I really do have pizza belly.
I give myself a onceover in the mirror and there’s no doubt about it. I look a lot more hilarious in this getup than I did when I was younger.
