Read Online Distractions by Natasha Walker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Natasha Walker
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asked David, delivering them all from evil.
‘Don’t we have to wait half an hour after eating?’ asked Sally.
‘Are you three?’ joked David.
‘Excuse me, sir. I haven’t finished eating. How rude!’ said Emma, playing the stern mother. ‘If you like you can clear the table.’
Sally stood up immediately.
‘Sit down, Sally. Let the boys do it.’
‘But …’
‘ Sit! ’
The boys leapt up and began piling everything, hoping to make but one trip to the kitchen. Watching their buffoonery, Emma thought how she would never call a man like her father a boy, but saw her husband, his friends and her friends’ husbands as mere boys sometimes. Maybe it was the way they wagged their tails like excited pups whenever they were teased?
The boys left and Sally relaxed back in her chair, making the appropriate sound effects to really make sure she was comfortable.
‘I’m drunk, Em,’ she said. ‘I’m drunk.’
‘Yes, you are,’ replied Emma, reaching out her hand and squeezing Sally’s lightly. ‘But that’s alright, we’re on holiday.’
‘Are the boys going for a swim?’
‘I think they are. Do you want to come down to the beach with me? We’ll set up the umbrella and you can have a snooze.’
‘You know what I want?’ said Sally, leaning closer to Emma.
‘What, Sal?’ she asked, in a conspiratorial tone.
Sally hung there for a while. She looked at Emma with a bleary-eyed intensity, then lookeddown to hide behind her eyelids. Emma waited. Sally held Emma’s wrist tightly.
‘I can’t say it,’ she finally confessed.
They both looked towards the kitchen where the men were stacking the dishwasher and probably discussing the merits of forks up or forks down, or some such stupid male obsession.
‘I know what it is anyway.’
‘Do you, Em?’ asked Sally, hopefully.
‘You want to fuck my husband,’ said Emma laughing.
‘No. Emma, no! I don’t. Listen, Emma,’ Sally lay her hand on Emma’s cheek to steady her face. ‘Look at me. Listen, Em. Listen.’
‘What?’
‘I want you to go down on me. I’ve been thinking about how you made me feel. I have, Em! Mark can’t do what you do.’
‘What can’t I do?’ said Mark, who seemed to have materialised beside them. One moment he was in the kitchen, the next he was right there. Both women jumped back and started laughing uproariously.
But the feeling was a strange one for Emma. Had Sally said I want you , Emma would have felt better about it. But now she felt slightly, well, yucky.
‘What can’t I do?’ repeated Mark, marvelling at the distinctive beauty of each of the women. He had nothing on his mind, nothing at all. He had a full stomach, the sun was shining, beer was plentiful, the house was lovely, and he felt truly blessed at that particular moment. If anything, vaguely, very vaguely, was the hope he might overcome what he thought was Emma’s unreasonable attitude towards him.
Adept as ever (could nothing catch this woman unawares?) Sally chimed in with:
‘Massage. Emma gave me a massage the other day. It was better than yours.’
‘Rubbish. Those tiny hands couldn’t give you a deep tissue workout,’ he said, holding his hands before Sally’s eyes, showing off their muscularity and size.
‘Emma’s was more relaxing, baby. She knows what a woman wants. Yours is good, for what it is, but sometimes gentle is better.’
‘Well maybe I can watch what Emma does and see if I can pick up any tips? Would you let me watch? Or is it secret women’s business?’
‘You can watch if Sally wants,’ said Emma, with a broad smile on her face. Sally was smiling too. ‘I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable though.’
‘How could you?’
‘Well, I’m good. Sally might make sounds with me she doesn’t make with you.’
‘Oh. I see. You think I might feel jealous.’
‘No, I was thinking you might feel inept.’
Sally couldn’t help but laugh now. She hadn’t wanted to, he was her husband, but it
‘Don’t we have to wait half an hour after eating?’ asked Sally.
‘Are you three?’ joked David.
‘Excuse me, sir. I haven’t finished eating. How rude!’ said Emma, playing the stern mother. ‘If you like you can clear the table.’
Sally stood up immediately.
‘Sit down, Sally. Let the boys do it.’
‘But …’
‘ Sit! ’
The boys leapt up and began piling everything, hoping to make but one trip to the kitchen. Watching their buffoonery, Emma thought how she would never call a man like her father a boy, but saw her husband, his friends and her friends’ husbands as mere boys sometimes. Maybe it was the way they wagged their tails like excited pups whenever they were teased?
The boys left and Sally relaxed back in her chair, making the appropriate sound effects to really make sure she was comfortable.
‘I’m drunk, Em,’ she said. ‘I’m drunk.’
‘Yes, you are,’ replied Emma, reaching out her hand and squeezing Sally’s lightly. ‘But that’s alright, we’re on holiday.’
‘Are the boys going for a swim?’
‘I think they are. Do you want to come down to the beach with me? We’ll set up the umbrella and you can have a snooze.’
‘You know what I want?’ said Sally, leaning closer to Emma.
‘What, Sal?’ she asked, in a conspiratorial tone.
Sally hung there for a while. She looked at Emma with a bleary-eyed intensity, then lookeddown to hide behind her eyelids. Emma waited. Sally held Emma’s wrist tightly.
‘I can’t say it,’ she finally confessed.
They both looked towards the kitchen where the men were stacking the dishwasher and probably discussing the merits of forks up or forks down, or some such stupid male obsession.
‘I know what it is anyway.’
‘Do you, Em?’ asked Sally, hopefully.
‘You want to fuck my husband,’ said Emma laughing.
‘No. Emma, no! I don’t. Listen, Emma,’ Sally lay her hand on Emma’s cheek to steady her face. ‘Look at me. Listen, Em. Listen.’
‘What?’
‘I want you to go down on me. I’ve been thinking about how you made me feel. I have, Em! Mark can’t do what you do.’
‘What can’t I do?’ said Mark, who seemed to have materialised beside them. One moment he was in the kitchen, the next he was right there. Both women jumped back and started laughing uproariously.
But the feeling was a strange one for Emma. Had Sally said I want you , Emma would have felt better about it. But now she felt slightly, well, yucky.
‘What can’t I do?’ repeated Mark, marvelling at the distinctive beauty of each of the women. He had nothing on his mind, nothing at all. He had a full stomach, the sun was shining, beer was plentiful, the house was lovely, and he felt truly blessed at that particular moment. If anything, vaguely, very vaguely, was the hope he might overcome what he thought was Emma’s unreasonable attitude towards him.
Adept as ever (could nothing catch this woman unawares?) Sally chimed in with:
‘Massage. Emma gave me a massage the other day. It was better than yours.’
‘Rubbish. Those tiny hands couldn’t give you a deep tissue workout,’ he said, holding his hands before Sally’s eyes, showing off their muscularity and size.
‘Emma’s was more relaxing, baby. She knows what a woman wants. Yours is good, for what it is, but sometimes gentle is better.’
‘Well maybe I can watch what Emma does and see if I can pick up any tips? Would you let me watch? Or is it secret women’s business?’
‘You can watch if Sally wants,’ said Emma, with a broad smile on her face. Sally was smiling too. ‘I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable though.’
‘How could you?’
‘Well, I’m good. Sally might make sounds with me she doesn’t make with you.’
‘Oh. I see. You think I might feel jealous.’
‘No, I was thinking you might feel inept.’
Sally couldn’t help but laugh now. She hadn’t wanted to, he was her husband, but it
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