Within minutes, her pants were off, and he was between her legs. She grasped his head and pulled the pillow over her head to stop her cries waking Pansy.
He didn’t stop, until she had come three times and then she pulled his head up and rolled on top of him. ‘Now, inside me,’ she moaned, wondering who this girl was in bed with this man.
Sex had been pleasant but perfunctory with Giles when it happened, which was rare. Before that there had been a short-term university boyfriend, who ended up being gay, which explained why he wasn’t into sex with her, and a few boys from high school and university who she had sex with because she could, sometimes even when she felt she should but nothing prepared her for Henry.
He was naked, between her legs. She looked down at him and felt as though she might die with desire.
‘What do you want, Clara?’ he asked.
‘You.’
‘Are you sure?’
Gone was the shy man and in his place was this bearded man who looked like he was going to claim her in every position and more and she couldn’t wait.
‘Yes, I’m sure. Fuck me,’ she said, surprised at her words. Had she ever said that before? Perhaps she had said it because she was supposed to but this time she meant it with everything she had.
Henry paused, his cock running along her wetness.
‘Don’t stop,’ she moaned.
‘Oh, darling, I haven’t even started yet,’ and with that he pushed up into her, opening her, and she arched her back with a pleasure she had never known before.
36
The end of summer rainstorm was keeping the people away from the bakery and tearooms so Rachel took it upon herself to make a cup of tea and sit behind the counter on the stool she had brought in from the shed outside.
Mother had said sitting in the shop was lazy and Rachel had agreed but she was tired now it was so busy and besides, there was a lull between customers.
Joe had told her she needed a website, but since she didn’t have a computer, he brought her his small one that his sister Alice used for school but she had recently upgraded.
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand computers or emails but her mother had a tablet and controlled it like everything in Rachel’s life, not letting her use it for anything unless it served Mother.
Now, as she surfed through the pages and pages of recipes and photos and gorgeous inspiration of tearooms and more, Rachel felt a flicker of something unfamiliar. She started to download photos she liked, then picked up the notebook used for ordering and wrote ideas for baking as she read the pages.
The sound of the bell on the door made her look up and she saw Tassie from across the road.
‘You’re brave to go out in this rain. I think the creek will flood,’ said Rachel as she closed the computer and stood up.
Tassie waved her hand at Rachel. ‘No need to get up, my dear, I will find a seat.’
‘Tea? Cake? Something warm?’ offered Rachel.
‘Bring your tea to me and show me what you are looking at on the computer. You seem to be lost in creative exploration. I could see the little sparks coming off you from across the street.’
‘Could you?’ She wouldn’t be surprised. Tassie always knew what was happening in the village and more specifically in the bakery.
Mother had said she was an old busybody who didn’t have a life so used other people’s lives as a way of feeling important but Rachel had never felt that Tassie had overstepped any boundaries, not the way her own mother had.
Thinking of her mother’s rules now made her shiver.
Not being allowed to lock the bathroom door, so Mother could rattle the handle when she walked by to ensure Rachel wasn’t up to no good. She wasn’t sure what she meant but as Rachel’s body began to change Mother wouldn’t let her look at herself in the mirror; she said Rachel’s breasts were disgusting, and that she should avoid looking or touching her private parts at all costs.
And it wasn’t as though Rachel wasn’t aware of sex or didn’t have sexual feelings but she would never have been allowed to have a boyfriend with Mother in her life because it would take Rachel away from being her servant and providing money for Mother.
Rachel took tea and a butterfly cake to Tassie and then carried her own mug of tea and the computer to Tassie and sat down.
‘Show me how these things work,’ said Tassie, as she peered at the screen. She took her glasses out of her bag and peered even more closely.
‘I have been looking at tea shop ideas and interiors. I would like to spruce this place up a bit but I don’t know if Mother will let me or if we can afford it.’
Tassie looked at the screen and pointed to a photograph of a tearoom with bookshelves.
‘That’s lovely.’
‘Yes,’ said Rachel. ‘Can I show you want I want to do if I had the money and the freedom?’
Tassie sighed. ‘Money and freedom. The wish of so many women of my generation, and still the wish remains unfilled.’
Rachel took Tassie through her ideas of the bookshelves and the open fire for winter and the tables with pretty tablecloths and flowers in vases.
‘I think it could be a place to stop by for ten minutes or hours if you wanted. You could have book readings happen or get authors to come and do signings or artists to show their art. My dad wanted to be an artist but he became an insurance salesman instead. I wanted to create a place where everyone can come and be inspired.’
Tassie smiled and sat back then picked up her cake and took a bite, spreading icing sugar on her purple coat
