Screwged Part 1

By | December 26, 2010 “Ghost”

Ed stared at the lights from his Christmas tree reflected in his glass of whisky until they began to blur. It was in part the alcohol that impaired his visual acuity and partly the fatigue that had accumulated in the weeks running up to Christmas. He sat, alone, in silence, the gentle crackle of the wood fire and sonorous tic-toc of the wall clock the only sounds in the room. Save for the fire and slowly twinkling lights on the Christmas Tree the room was unlit.

It was a comforting womb suffused with an orange glow and the smell of wood smoke. The rest of the world kept at bay for a while.

Ed felt his eyelids descending. He placed his glass on the small, round table to the right of his armchair and let sleep take him into its dark embrace.


There was a loud knock at the door.

Ed’s consciousness rose from an oily grey-black dream full of pointing skeletal fingers and the rattle of metal hoops to fully awake with an unseemly haste. His eyes snapped open.

Another knock.

Fuck, he though bitterly, it’s bloody Christmas. Can’t I get a bit of peace and quiet at Christmas …

Ed dragged his leaden limbs to the front door and flung it open. Rather than be greeted by the group of off-tune carol singers with a repertoire of three carols that he expected, a hooded figure faced him in the porch.

“Can I help you?” he enquired.

The figure raised a hand, thin fingers covered in a black leather glove. The hand pulled back the hood of the cloak to reveal a pale face and long, blonde, almost white, hair.

“Marlene!” Exclaimed Ed.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Remarked Marlene. “Can I come in?”


“Still on your own then?” Enquired Marlene.

“Apparently.” Replied Ed tersely.

He studied her, sitting in the chair opposite. She carried the years better than he did. The seven years since they parted had taken their toll on him, the furrows in his brow and the high blood pressure were just the most obvious signs of that. She had matured into a fine woman, older and more assured, powerful and graceful. A very fine woman. Stop it! He told himself.

“Not expecting visitors?” Observed Marlene, the lack of Christmas fare very obvious.

“No, thank goodness. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I’ve been travelling for hours and they took the buffet car off the train so I’m starving.”

Ed reached down the side of the chair and pulled out a crumpled paper bag. He opened the top of the bag and removed a large piece of fluff that had been adhering to the contents.


Marlene’s chin dropped, her disdainful look told him otherwise.


Ed relented. Twenty minutes later they were eating Marmite on toast in his basic kitchen.

“Is this the only food you have?” Asked an amused Marlene.

“I’m going away for Christmas.”

“Ah. Well I was thinking of stopping here for the festive season.” Said Marlene rather uncertainly.

“You’ve got some bloody nerve I haven’t spoken to you for seven years and then you expect to spend Christmas here!” Ed was incredulous.

“We have some things we need to talk about. Important stuff. I thought it would give us time to sort it all out.” Explained Marlene.

“Oh, fuck. You weren’t pregnant when you left where you?”

Marlene laughed. It was a laugh Ed remembered well. It warmed his steely cold heart in a way that was now so unfamiliar to him that when she stopped and normality returned he felt an overwhelming sadness. The sadness derived from a deep sense of loss. A loss that he knew himself to be the sole architect of, but not its sole victim.

“No I was not.” Marlene assured him, then noticing his dour countenance offered. “Cheer up, I’m not here for maintenance.”

He looked at her smiling face and wondered if he would ever know the happiness they had shared with anyone else. He told himself that a woman like Marlene came along once in a lifetime. So that would be a “No” then …

He was therefore shocked when she kissed him on the lips a moment later.

Amazed when she pushed her tongue into his mouth.

And finding himself being led upstairs by her left him wondering if he was still asleep …

… they picked up where they had left off seven years before. Their sex was like picking up an old book that you find in the attic years after packing it away. It was familiar, yet strange, nostalgic and exhilarating.

With each movement of their hands over the other’s naked flesh they relearned each others needs and desires. The pain that had separated them was gone and what remained was the seven years of unfulfilled longing that had been dammed up.

It felt as fresh as the first time, yet with a knowledge of each other that was only possible because of their previous life together.

In a storm of grasping hands and vivacious tongues they had dived into bed, clothes abandoned on the bedroom floor. They paused for a moment, breathing heavy, hearts beating wildly, pupils dilated. One of his hands was intertwined with her hair, the other held a breast, cupping it with the erect nipple squeezed between two fingers.

She straddled his leg, her wet pussy rubbing against his thigh. Her clitoris hummed with anticipation, the moments hesitation heightening the sensation that her pulsing bundle of nerve fibres might explode if it were not satisfied. She could feel his cock pressing in to her stomach, wet and sticky with the clear fluid she wanted to lick from it.

They looked at each other, silent, motionless acknowledging the fact that they were very different now. They each had a seven year history which separated this from their last encounter. It didn’t matter they still wanted each other with the reckless lustfulness which had characterised their time together.

She slid up the bed deliberately slapping him across the face with her breasts, lowering them onto his face and letting him nuzzle into the soft valley between. She smiled and moaned with a quiet contentment. It had always relaxed her when he buried himself in her cleavage. The familiarity was pleasant but soon overwhelmed by the need to feel him enter her.

Marlene slid slowly down, trapping his cock between her thighs and guiding it into her waiting lips. Her clitoris crackled with sensations as the skin of his abdomen slid over her mons.

A fluid movement engulfed his cock between her labia and deep within her pussy.

His hips bucked. She imagined riding him, cowgirl for real. He had other ideas and with a powerful thrust of his hips toppled her from her sadle, rolling her onto her back, cock still inside her. Ed smiled down at Marlene. He slowly moved inside her, small strokes, teasing her, knowing she would hate him for it her libido demanding more.

Her eyes were filled frustration tempered by the knowledge his lust would soon overcome his control and compel him to abandon his composed façade. She bit her lip and gave him her best pleading look, “Fuck me, please”

Ed obliged. His hips gyrated and swung, thrusting, stirring, sending shudders of pleasure out across her body then back to the very core of her being. Her hands grabbed his neck, nails digging into his skin, imploring him to cum inside her, cum now, because she was cumming.

He felt her orgasm approaching, sensed it too in the subtle changes in her demeanour and muscle tensions. It had always been like this, as if something possessed her. Her back arched and lips soundlessly called out his name.

Ed slumped onto her chest. His lips sought hers and kissed her tenderly just once before sliding across the bed to lay beside her and drift into a deep contented sleep.