Spare Key

* * * * *

Rachel sculled the dregs of vodka and coke from her glass and broke into a coughing fit as a bit of ice lodged in her throat. God she was pissed. She’d lost track of the number of drinks she’d downed after ten. Whatever the number was, it was clearly the magic one. Even Ben’s presence at the table had stopped irritating her.

His reaction to her story hadn’t been what she’d hoped for. He’d remained completely stone-faced and unreadable throughout and she couldn’t help but wonder, once again, if he was medicated.

Not that his lack of response was bothering Sarah, she thought as she spluttered. She’d obviously set her sights on him for the evening and Rachel shuddered a little to think what that said about her: that she would be attracted to a man who basically ignored her.

‘Ya right? Got bones in it has it?’ Mitch’s face loomed into view.

He was a little rosy-cheeked and there was a slight slur to his voice that in her intoxicated state, Rachel viewed as decidedly cute. He had a fair few drinks under his belt now and once he’d settled into the evening and the alcohol had started to ease his awkwardness, he’d revealed himself as quite the silver-tongued charmer.

Rachel searched for a witty reply but the drink had made her brain an alarming blank. Mitch’s hand, that had started out patting her back, was now rubbing circles across it which Rachel was finding immensely enjoyable.

Better get out of here soon before I pass out, she thought as she spluttered one last time before straightening in her chair. It was enough to send hazy swirls shooting across her vision.

Definitely time.

She attempted her best come-hither smile for Mitch as she eased her hand onto his thigh. She had a clear image of what she was going for in her mind and only hoped her face was obeying her. Mitch stared at her evenly for a second, just long enough for the doubts to start up – oh God, what if he says no, says I’m not his type – then he leaned in close and began whispering. His line was abrupt and to the point and Rachel was very thankful for that. It led to a very simple and easy to think through reply.

‘Do you want to get out of here?’

‘Yes.’

Business done.

The catcalls from the group started the instant they stood up, as though it hadn’t only been Ben who’d been staring at her all night. They continued as they headed to the door and Rachel turned just before opening it to shoot them the finger. It only doubled the calls and despite herself, Rachel found herself blushing.

The only one not cheering was Ben and for a second the old doubts and irritation began to creep back in as she watched the smile spread across his face. But then Mitch grabbed her arm and dragged her out the door, spinning her into an awkward hug and as her lips met his, she decided there were far better things to occupy her thoughts.

DAY 4

Rachel peered down at Mitch’s head wedged between her splayed thighs and forced a moan of pleasure. Although he clearly knew what he was doing and his tongue felt nice as it plunged into her vagina, something just wasn’t right. His tongue worked away and the usual worries were at the back of her mind – does it smell? God, she should have showered, probably all hot and sweaty down there – but they weren’t the problem. She just couldn’t stop shooting glances at the window, certain she’d see him hunched over, his face pressed to the glass.

Even though only darkness met her eyes each time, Rachel still lamented that her blind had been perpetually wedged half-open since she’d moved in. She never got around to fixing it and cursed that fact now. Although it was flimsy and the Venetians were all bent out of shape, at least it would have offered some mild protection.

Come on, forget about it, focus on the job at hand, she told herself as she forced another moan while Mitch went to work on her clit, tonguing circles around it and sucking it into his mouth. Her forced moan turned to one of real pleasure as the sensation exploded through her but it wasn’t enough. She already knew she wasn’t going to cum; she was too distracted for that and before she knew it her eyes were drifting over to the window again.

And the seething anger that was building inside her didn’t help at all. She tried her best to hold it back but it just kept bubbling up, slowly gaining momentum.

Fuck it! It was meant to be her night of blowing off steam. A fun, relaxing evening with friends. A night she had desperately needed. And now it was all fucked. And she knew who was to blame. Fucking Ben. She knew she was being childish about it but even if he wasn’t responsible for the sprog and the missing underwear, she currently hated him just for the tatters he’d made of her evening.

Fuck, if he was present she could just happily stab him.

‘Everything alright?’

Rachel realised she’d stopped writhing and Mitch was looking up at her with concern on his face. She could see her juices glistening around his mouth and although it was arousing, she was tempted to just say, yeah, I’m afraid so, just not really in the mood at the moment.

But it wasn’t his fault and just because Ben had ruined her night didn’t mean she had to ruin Mitch’s. Without a word, she pushed his face back into her crotch and began to grind at it as he moaned in obvious pleasure. At least someone’s enjoying themselves, she seethed inside at Ben. She’d been so fucking horny on the cab ride back. Mitch’s hands had been all over her and she’d been so looking forward to it. Her pelvis had been almost aching in anticipation.

But now she found herself shuddering to a faked orgasm that released no tension; that afforded her no pleasure, only added to her anger and frustration. And as Mitch clambered up her body, pressing kisses across her stomach to her breasts, and she felt his erect cock nudging at her slick entrance – at least she was well lubricated; hard to fake arousal when you were as dry as the Gobi desert – she couldn’t help it. She began to fantasise. And even though the voice spoke up, suggesting it probably wasn’t the best idea, she ignored it. It was the only way she’d salvage at least a modicum of enjoyment from the evening.

As he plunged into her, she pictured Ben gagged and bound to a chair; his flesh parting like her vulva as she eased the knife in ever so slowly.

The orgasm rocketed out of nowhere.

* * * * *

Ben was lost in reverie, his cock like a heated iron bar in his hand as he pressed his ear to the wall. He could only hear vague noises but he knew what they were doing in there and when he thought of it, Rachel turned into her and his mind was summoning up images of the past. The part of it that had always seemed to leave him so conflicted.

It would have been easier for him if she had just been violent. If it had just been hatred she’d shown him. But that hadn’t been the case and as he tried to focus his attention on the woman next door, the images kept intruding until they merged into one and Ben’s horniness only increased as he was transported back to those afternoons after school…

When the butterflies were heavy in his stomach as he sat on the couch. A giddy feeling mixed with fear and desire and the horrible knowledge that it was wrong. Oh so wrong. But even though he’d be scared, his cock was always hard in his pants. Even though he was always punished for it.

Even though he knew that later she’d be enraged.

He always hated himself for the way he eagerly listened. Both wanting to and not wanting to hear her call: Benny, mummy needs you…

His ear pressed to the wall, Ben held the key up before his eyes with his free hand. The urge to use it was