Back to England Ch. 02

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This episode of my life starts off very slowly but please bear with me, after all this is my life I’m exposing to you. Things are starting to get better, whether my writing is, well that’s a different matter but at least I’m trying.


Following a night of fitful sleep, I reluctantly managed to persuade my body that it was time to reenter the world. As per norm I had gone to sleep with the curtains wide open, and as the bright sunlight streamed in it caused me to wince and shy away from its intense rays. Judging by the lack of shadows I deduced that it was about mid-morning. “Fuck!” I uttered with a frown as I struggled to a sitting position, before adjusting the pillows in behind me for support as I listened to the noisy bustle of city life.

“No….this is no good,” I thought to myself as I slowly swivelled out of bed before hobbling towards the kettle, grabbing hold of it I then made my way into the bathroom. As I filled the kettle I looked up into the mirror and what I saw under the stark glare of the lights shocked me; for what should have been the face of a young woman in her very early thirties all I saw was a dirty, scrawny, haggard face with eyes like ‘two piss-holes in the snow.’ As I looked at myself with a blank stare there was no recognition. Putting the kettle aside I slowly removed my nightie dreading what was to come.

Revealed in all my glory (what a joke) I looked a shadow of my once beautiful self. OK I had a great tan but my withered and wrinkled skin reminded me of those prisoners from the Second World War; god I looked a sight. Ok I knew I had lost a lot of weight but this was ridiculous, how the hell did I allow myself to get into this state and as for Izzy, I’ll kill her for not telling me the absolute truth, ok she had said that I had lost a bit of weight but what I now saw was ridiculous; she was supposed to be my friend.

Slowly and methodically under the stark glare of the bathroom light I began to wash and study every wrinkle and crevice of my withered body. As a reader I expect your thinking “I don’t want to read about this crap,” but this is life, things happen, people do go funny when a love one dies: Izzy may have put me on the road to recovery but the rest was up to me.

Once dressed and slapped on some makeup I left the hotel, grabbed a quick coffee and a bite to eat from the local café then continued on my way to father’s apartment.

Apart from last night it had been five long years since I last stood outside my father’s apartment. I should have done it immediately after his death but I just could not bring myself to do it so with a lot of apprehension I slowly opened the door and stepped in.

At this point, I wasn’t really sure how I should feel anymore. Yes I was depressed, but I was also angry. The problem was, I wasn’t sure who I should be angry with. I knew that I didn’t really have a right to be angry at Izzy, because she wasn’t the one who messed up. So I was basically just a big mess of confused emotions, and I didn’t really know how to handle it; perhaps I should’ve waited for Izzy to be here with me for it seemed like my whole life over the past several months had been turned into a rollercoaster of drama, drugs and booze. Everything had been so simple before. Sure, having been an ‘army’ brat I had no true friends, and was miserable as sin. But at least my life in France was enjoyable.

Why does someone dying make life so distressing.

What made things worse was that on the surface, things seemed to be almost ‘normal’. For I still expected him to talk to me, put his arms around my shoulders, or take me to his bed and fuck the life out of me. That’s what I’ll truly missed..My earlier escapades will reveal all.

Dad had said I could still stay in his apartment anytime I was in London but now I didn’t know if I could handle it. For it felt like I was in a state of limbo, and it was awful. Breaking up would have been easier, because at least I’d know where things stood, and I could start trying to get over it. But instead, I was left wanting and wondering. And I didn’t have a clue how long I had to wait. Days? Weeks? Months? It wasn’t fair. But then again, nothing in my life ever seemed fair. It was like God or whoever was sitting up there in heaven, thought only of ways to make my life more miserable. Hadn’t I suffered enough?!

I needed to talk to someone, I wanted someone to tell me what to do. But who could I talk to? I could talk to Izzy but she was miles away, just like Chris or Dad use to be so, as usual I was left to deal with this on my own.

Getting through that first day was absolute torture, made only worse because I kept finding things which Dad had kept from when we were a true family, things which I had long forgotten about.

At times I just wanted to run out of there, head for the nearest pub and drown my sorrows but where would that get me, my problems would still be here and for another I would surely loose Izzy this time, bahis firmaları especially after all the effort she put into my recovery; that was a devastating thought. It would be too awkward. No, not just awkward …. heart-wrenchingly unbearable.

“Fuck…it’s quiet in here,” I thought to myself, seeing Dad’s CD player I grabbed the nearest disc, loaded it onto play before opening a few cabinets in the lounge. I soon found a bottle of whiskey along with a couple of other bottles of spirits. My mind was suddenly racing with a million thoughts. Shit! No! I daren’t touch it for I knew that once I started I’ll never stop. I’m not saying I’m a total alcoholic but without a guiding hand I soon could be.

Wallowing in self-pity, which at this moment I certainly was, the melodic tones of Elton John’s, “If There’s a God in Heaven (What’s He Waiting For?)” from my Blue Moves album began to drift through the apartment.

If there’s a God in heaven

What’s He waiting for?

If He can’t hear the children

Then He must see the war

But it seems to me

That He leads My lambs

To the slaughter house

And not the Promised Land ….

The pleading vocals and depressing lyrics only added to the depths of my despair. I listened to this for a few more second until its words really got too depressing. Quickly pressing the eject button I then began selecting a few other discs from Dad’s collection. To my surprise he was quiet hip with his music, there were a few classics but the majority of his collection dated from the mid 70’s. With Neil Diamond playing in the background I made steady progress with bagging up all of Dad’s possessions, most of which would be going to the local charity shops but a few things would be staying in the apartment, especially those from his bedside cabinet which I’ll come to later. As for the furniture, it was usable, not my taste but as I said usable, and the bottles of spirits, well they would stay in the cabinet as a reminder.

Tired and thirsty I made my way into the kitchen where luckily I found some coffee which hadn’t congealed into to a gooey mass; having boiled the kettle to clear out the detritus I boiled it again then made myself a cup of ‘instant’. It’s taste was passable but not great so after a couple of sips I looked at my next challenge, the fridge; standing well back I cautiously opened its door, surprisingly it was quiet clean and odourless; father had had the sense to put all the perishables into storage boxes (part of his army training?) so it was a simple matter of throwing these straight into the bin, the milk bottle with its column of mould was carefully wrapped in cling-film then placed very carefully into the bin. Next came the freezer where most of the food here was well past its ‘best by date’ so that too followed the fridge contents. As for the rest of the stuff in the kitchen, if it was open or well out of date that too went into the bin. With bedroom, bathroom and kitchen cleared that only left me one other room to clear, the one which father called ‘His office,’ but that could wait for another day for I already had over 10 ‘bin-bags’ to dispose of, some of which would go down the service chute but the rest needed lugging to the nearest charity shop before they closed.

Several hours later, tired, exhausted and for want of a better word I crawled into the café where I had stopped for coffee earlier. Grabbing a chair I nosily plonked my arse down and waited.

“What do’ya want luv?” mumbled a sweet non-registering voice…This was followed by a grunt then “Luv…what’s your order?”

“Sorry, miles away,” I mumbled in reply…”I’ll have a coffee, and…and the Ham, eggs and chips please,” having taken a quick glance at the menu.

“White or black?”

“Oh….white with cold milk if possible.”

“No problem,” came a speedy yet sweet reply.

With that I took my first good look at my waitress. She looked gorgeous, her long glossy black hair fell well below the waist of her diminutive body and her face just smiled at you. Her hands looked so delicate as she jotted down my order, she looked young but there again all Asian woman tend to look young for their age. Twisting to watch as she walked back towards the kitchen her arse moved ‘like two ferrets fighting in a sack’; knowingly, she quickly looked back and gave me the cutest of smiles.

“You look all in!” My waitress uttered as she slid my coffee onto the table.

“Tell me about it,” I replied casually, not expecting any reaction; after all to her I was just a customer and nothing more.

“I’m a good listener….may I?” she asked pulling out a chair before plonking her arse down.

For a few seconds I was gobsmacked then having reached across and placed her hand upon mine I, for some unknown reason, began to tell her everything; from how my father’s death had affected me to where I was currently staying and how clearing out father’s apartment was also affecting me. All kaçak iddaa this time she just sat and listened, occasionally she would either stroke my hand or grip it harder as the occasion desired but overall remained absolutely silent. It took the thumping down of a plate followed by a few terse words in an unknown language to bring me back into this world.

“Sorry have I got you into trouble?” I quickly enquired.

“No…No, it’s just father. He says I spend too much time talking with the female customers and not enough time looking for a husband but I don’t WANT men pawing all over me.”

As another barrage of shouting came from the kitchen, I for some unknown reason quickly uttered, “I can be a good listener too!” as she walked quickly back towards the kitchen: taking another glance at her arse I’d swear that she put an extra wiggle to it just for me.

A quick glance at my watch showed me that it was gone 10pm so I quickly finished my coffee before going up to the counter to pay. Not having any loose change I gave the girl a ten pound note; during an exchange of banter about the meal she made some apology about “Not having any notes” before handing me a palm full of change with the added distraction of dragging her delicate fingers across mine as we parted. With more banter about “I hope we’ll see you again etc.” I made my weary way out of the café and back to my hotel.

“How may I help you?” the receptionist behind the counter asked brightly.

“No it’s OK, I’ve come to see a friend, I believe she’s in room 115,” Rekha uttered as she made her way towards the lift.

“First floor on the right,” the man said, “Bit late for visiting though,” he went on to say.

“It’s OK she’s expecting me,” Rekha quickly snapped as the lift doors opened then closed.

Hearing a knocking on the door I asked myself “Who the bloody hell can that be this time of night,” as I made my way towards it; angrily I wrenched it open. “What the fuck!” I uttered seeing the girl from the café stood in front of me.

“May I come in?” the girl uttered rather timidly.

Taken aback I ushered her quickly into the room. “Do you realise what time it is!” I snapped.

“Yes and I’m sorry, but I needed to talk to you.”

“OK…but I think a few introductions would help, I’m Sarah.”

“Oh sorry….Rekha…my parents named me after a famous Indian actress but I prefer to be called Kia.”

“Ok Kia, what’s all this about?” I asked quizzically.

“Well you seemed to be so lonely when you came into the café, and…and you made me curious.

“Curious!” I snapped. “In what way?”

“I noticed your eyes seemed to light up when I gave you your change and you kept looking at my bum as I walked about in the café; you’ve also got this aura about you so can I ask….are you a lesbian?”

“Why are you asking me that?” I asked quizzically.

“With what you said just as father called me back into the kitchen.”

“Are you trying to say that you’ve become attracted to other women?” This I asked in a more sympathetic manner knowing that most Asian girls had a very strict upbringing.

Kia paused for several seconds, looked at me questioningly with her beautiful eyes then in a very nervous manner said, “I know it’s stupid but I felt kind of weird as we talked in the cafe, I feel the same when I’m showering or playing with myself in bed….my opening becomes all wet….it also happens if I see an attractive girl or smell an alluring perfume but I don’t know why it does that….sometimes my panties become soaked and I can smell myself and I’m sure other people notice it too. I get so embarrassed because of it so I can’t wait to get home, run into my room, take them off and wash myself. The same thing happened this evening when you came into the café, as soon as I smelt your perfume it set me off.” With that Kia finished and I could see she was trembling as she fidgeted with her hands.

“Well to be truthful I’m not a true lesbian, I’m what you call bi-sexual but I do have a long term girlfriend, a friend who goes right back to my schooldays. Does that answer your question?”

“What’s it like making love to another women.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want too but can I ask if you are a virgin.”

“Hairbrushes have many uses,” Kia replied with a glint in her eye.

“OK…but how about boys?” I asked.

“Oh they try it on but seeing how some of the men treat us woman disgusts me but that’s our way of life; as for me and boys that’s a big NO, not ever.”

“OH…Now look…it’s getting late and I expect your parents are wondering where you are so I’ll give you an address, if you’re really serious about this I’ll expect to see you there tomorrow,” and with that I wrote down the address for father’s apartment.

Taking the note Kia quickly stepped forward then we embraced, being this close to her I noticed her musky scent as she kept repeating a series of “Thank you’,” in my ear. Still kaçak bahis in a form of embrace we made our way towards the door where once opened Kia gave me quick kiss on the lips before ‘wiggling’ her way towards the lift.

The following morning I was all excited, I had woken up early and taken great care in pampering myself, before leaving my room I checked my bag of toys to see if I needed anything, seeing it was complete I quickly left the hotel. Calling by the café I grabbed a coffee expecting to see Kia on route but it was not to be so I just paid my dues and made my way to father’s apartment.

To my surprise, Kia arrived about 11ish dressed quiet shabbily in a black Kurti (tunic), black leggings and black ballerina shoes. She reached out to embrace me before uttering “Nice…I like it, the apartment that is,” whilst dropping her bag just inside the door.

“I hope it’s not just the apartment you like,” I quickly retorted before following through with, “feel free to walk about if you want, I’ve got a few more things to do then I’m all yours.”

We both giggled for a moment before Kia asked, “Do you mind if I take a shower, I feel pretty grungy after serving in the café all morning?”

“No…not at all,” I replied, “you go right ahead while I continue clearing out father’s office.” I then proceeded to clear dad’s office while in the background I could hear the sound of water running in the bathroom.

“Where’s the towels,” Kia called out as she calmly walked into the lounge dripping with water, I turned around to answer and my chin practically hit the floor when I saw her standing there totally naked and dripping with water.

“Whoops, sorry,” I blabbed trying to tear my eyes away from Kia’s fantastic body for she must have been about a petite size 10 with a shaved pussy and nipples which just begged to be licked. Seeing her shiver I told her to get back under the shower whilst I found her some towels.

Once under the stinging rays of the water Kia allowed her mind to drift. In fact she was so relaxed that she never noticed when I slowly opened the shower door and stepped in.

“Fuck…What are you doing in here?” a befuddled Kia answered nervously.

“You looked so sexy stood there in the lounge, and I just thought it would be a good opener, after all you’re the curious one so what better place to start,” I whispered softly while reaching out to caress Kia’s smooth belly. “Mmmmm, you feel so sexy too.” Recoiling through a little bit of fear Kia replied, “I’m afraid.”

“I’m sure that you are,” I replied softly while letting my hands roam all over her soft body, “But you looked so sexy as you stood dripping water in the lounge I just couldn’t help myself.”

“I’m not sure about this, it’s too sudden,” Kia stammered.

“Really?” I mumbled softly. “Then take look at your nipples, they seem to be up for it,” moving closer I placed my hand between Kia’s legs and began fingering her young pussy.

“Ohhhhhh,” Kia gasped as I flicked my finger over her rapidly swelling clit. Pinned against the shower wall and with little chance of escape she closed her eyes and let me have my way with her. The tension in Kia’s body was now growing to fever pitch. She was beginning to enjoy the experience, but knowing how sensitive a young pussy was to any kind of stimulus I knew instinctively that she would do whatever I asked of her. Now hovering on the ragged edge of an orgasm, Kia’s eyes literally rolled back in her head as I kissed her on the ear and whispered, “Shall we continue this in the bedroom?” Without bothering to dry off I led Kia into the bedroom.

Stood behind her, I began to stroke her shoulders, back and neck while pushing my breasts into her back. In between her shivers I could tell she was relatively at ease and enjoying the attention. As my pussy began to juice up she turned around and we just looked at each other before I cupped her cheek with my hand and caressed her soft silky skin with my thumb.

She reached up and held my hand to her cheek and then kissed its palm and put it back again. She looked at me with what I can only describe as a look of desire. I reached up with my other hand and caressed her other cheek as well then lent forward and gave her a quick, but soft kiss on her lips. I watched her shut her eyes as I did and felt her lips press into mine.

“I’ve only kissed female relatives before when greeting them. This is feeling so much more loving and caring to me.” She uttered as I pulled back, she still had her eyes closed and then opened them slowly to look at me, a smile growing on her lips.

“You have the most beautiful smile. Your eyes sparkle every time and it just looks great on you.” I told her.

She smiled then blushed deeply, adding to the overall appeal of her.

I took her in to my arms and gave her a warm hug, and she followed my lead. I felt her breasts folding in to mine and our nipples were pressed together. We stayed like that and caressed each other’s backs and then parted. I held her hands in mine, god they were so soft and delicate. She then looked at me with serious intent and hope then said. “Would you teach me how to make love?”

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