With friends like that?

Friends like what?

Well it’s kinda hard to explain.

Have you ever had or do you currently have a friend that you love dearly,  that you’ve went through lots together,  marriage,  divorce,  in his case re-marriage ..  long term friends who have went through the good and bad together.

I was best man at his wedding,  the second one that is,   been there when the twins came along,  advised him to play more of an active part and stop using work as an excuse to avoid dealing with the kids as his wife needs the help.

Not that I’ve ever been a fan of his missus,   I never thought they were right for each other,   particularly as during the pre-marriage days he had a few misdemeanours,    one in particular where his future wife turned up at my door asking me if he’d stayed at mine the previous night.

Now what can you say in that situation?

Tell the truth and stick your bestie deep in the doo-do?

Or lie your ass off and swear to the big guy in the sky that you’d been out for curry and beers,  came back to mine for some more drinks and he’d fell asleep.

Nobody sticks their mate in the shit,  it just isn’t done.

The missus couldn’t prove I was lying and although I was deeply uncomfortable with it,  what else could I say?

He’d texted me that morning in a panic,   he’d met a girl a few weeks ago and unbeknown to me,  was out with her on the Friday night, telling his girlfriend that he was out with me for the night.

Boys will be boys and all that.

They go out for dinner and drinks,  he goes back to hers,   nature takes it’s due course and the fud then falls asleep, waking up at 7 in the morning in a panic and calling a cab.

He then texts me from the cab to ask me to cover for him if his missus gets in touch.

What can you say?

Errr .. Nah mate,  your on your own?

So he gets home,  the missus suspects he’s been up to no good and rightfully gives him the third degree.

He feigns innocence and has deleted the text to me from his mobile.

I wake up at 8am .. well it is a Saturday .. and see his text, I  can tell he’s panicking and on the way home and know that he’s in it deep as he has a bit of previous.

I swither on sending him a text,  but don’t want to say anything that drops him in it and don’t’ really want involved either.

Nothing happens the rest of the day,  she’s obviously watching him like a hawk and he’s on best behaviour.   But later that evening,  while eating a take-away with the kids, the doorbell rings.  It’s his girlfriend asking if she can come in for a chat.

“Of course you can,    I’m surprised to see you,  hope everything is okay?” .. and I was surprised to see her .. hoping that my genuine surprise is masking my discomfort.

So she comes into the kitchen and I put the kettle on,  any excuse to buy a bit of thinking time.

I turn to face her and although her blue eyes are red as she’s clearly been crying,   they’re intensely staring at mine and she wants a straight answer.

“Did Robert stay here last night?”

Short, sweet and straight to the point.

It’s the moment of truth .. or lie.   It’s the moment of choice.

To choose the path of the hard and hurtful truth or to tell a horrible but gentle lie?

What would you do?

Back your best mate up or tell the truth and drop him right in it?

Call me weak,  I chose the easier path and lied .. yep,  as brazen-faced as I could manage,  I put surprise on my face as if the question had came out of the blue and lied through my teeth.

“Yes,  he was here”  .. and I’m doing my best to look as if the question itself was a surprise  ..  “We went for a curry and a few beers,  then he came here and we put on a Bowie concert and that Depeche Mode one that we had been to,  he fell asleep on the sofa,  so I went to my bed and when I woke up this morning he was gone”

Bowie and Depeche mode an easy and convincing add-on .. my bad …  but she knows we are both fans and have been to see them and watched these concerts at his house after nights out when she’d been there and went up to her bed.

“Is that what really happened?”

“Not sure what you mean?   Yes that’s what happened,  did he say that we did something else?  Is everything okay?”

“He says that he stayed here last night,   but I don’t believe him.   He’s been too secretive lately and disappeared a few times without saying where he’s going or where he’s been,  making excuse to go shopping on his own,  anything to get out the house for a while”

And she stares at me,  almost pleading to hear the truth  “Are you sure that’s what happened?”

And she knows,  of course she knows,  she just can’t prove it.

And I lie again, shamefully,   brazenly,  I’m even embarrassed about it now 15 years later.

A lot has changed in that time,    their married,  got the twins,  I’ve never had to lie for him again.

Back then,  after the dust settled and we met for another beer and curry night .. I ripped him up for putting me in such a horrible position.

If his missus was to read this now,  how would she feel,  knowing that despite him being a good dad and husband,  he had lied to her back then,  would it change anything .. or does time heal and we move along and close off the past,  preferring not to look at its dark secrets?

Let me give you a wee bit of advice … if you’re ever in that situation where you know your partner has cheated but can’t prove it and he has his best friend backing him up.

Trust your instincts.


Wolf -4 – Cold


Revenge is a dish best served cold, so they say.

It’s a phrase quite often used in popular culture and another phrase reiterated in The Godfather.

I’d heard it when I was younger, but If I’m honest, I was never sure exactly what it meant?

But now looking back, I seem to have learned that lesson from life experience.

I guess it depends that each case is different and it depends on the particular circumstances at the time. Continue reading “Wolf -4 – Cold”

The Platform Lovers – Collections?

Charles closed the door of his den and sat on the leather captain’s chair,  pulling the laptop from its bag and waiting for it to jump into life.

This was his private place,  the one room in the house where Michelle or the kids hardly ever ventured,  largely because they were actively discouraged not to.

This was his room, full of the toys and memorabilia that a man with cash to spend had bought over the years.

The shelves were full of the toys that he’d collected as a boy,  then added to as a an adult.  The full Star Wars collection,  Hans Solo and Luke Skywalker standing either side of The Millennium Falcon aiming their blasters at Darth Vader while Princess Leia shelters behind them.

It was a childish pose,  didn’t he know that Leia was a strong , feisty, independent woman and would have blasted him in a second if she knew half of what he’d been up to?

The walls were adorned with photos from his boys weekends,  fishing, shooting Grouse and playing golf on a weekend at Gleneagles.   The fact that the boys were only there for the day and Geraldine had joined him in the evening for an intimate dinner and they’d stayed up half the night making love in each corner of the four-poster bed in their stateroom was strangely omitted from his collection of displayed memories.

There were photographs of his Harley Davidson which largely sat in the garage unused since he had found more stimulating toys to play with.  He liked to take it out and polish every now and then,   ride it to the end of the street and never further than round the block.

The Harley was just another toy,  another object to add to his collection,  just like the new collection he had started since he had gave Geraldine the push.

The room was never locked,  that would have drawn too much attention.

But he was aware that Michelle had become suspicious of his late nights,  sitting in his den until the early hours or out with “clients”.

She had been in the room a few times recently, looking through the few papers on the desk and in the drawers but there was nothing to see.

Or more accurately there was nothing to see unless Charles deliberately wanted her to see it.

Charles knew that Michelle occasionally spied on him,  he could feel her growing curiosity in the questions she occasionally asked about his client-nights,  asking where he had been and who he had been with.

That was a mistake,   it showed her hand too soon.

Friends close,  enemies closer,  that was how Charles liked to play it.

His father,  despite his general coldness had taught him well.

Back when he was a child,  his father had taught him not to do what the other boys do.

Never ever forewarn your enemy.

He’d seen this behaviour on many occasions since,  two boys fighting  in the playground,  more recently grown men making the same mistake of telling their opponent what they were going to do.

This was usually a sign of a fight being handbags at fifty paces .. and not going to come to anything.

I’m sure that you’ve saw this routine many times before?

Where both parties tried to threaten their opponent with bullshit hoping that the other guy would back down.

Then the pushing would start,  “I’m going to …”

Actually they weren’t.

What they were doing was hoping that either the opponent was a bigger coward or had more to lose than them and would back down or a passer-by, friend or accomplice would break things up before things had gone too far and a physical battle ensued.

I mean really?

Seriously .. who really wants a physical battle?

Do you think that grown men acting like kids over some stupid incident really want that?

Even if you win,  you lose,  no-one wants a black eye or an assault charge.

So it’s really all posturing, bravado and bullshit.

Charles was different,  he didn’t fight,  he didn’t get into trouble,  he spoke quietly, confidently and If there was a reason to do battle,  he chose his moment and hit his opponent with everything he had when they least expected it.

Until then,  schtum,  nothing,  bite your lip, smile and quietly make plans.

The lack of outward emotion would have made him seem cold-hearted to anyone if it wasn’t for the fact that he balanced this internal coldness with charm and humour at a surface level,  but he was only charming when it suited him,  when giving something up,  got him what he really wanted,  his black heart was as cold and ruthless as steel.

He logged into the laptop,  business first, pleasure later.

He started a browser and logged into the bank account for the new company he had started.

Somewhere upstairs in the darkness,  there was an almost imperceptible click as a record was written to a hard disk.

The contracts had been signed last year at Gleneagles,  reselling insurance was simple,  you buy  a package form the bigger company, form relationships with clients and they sign up to pay at a premium for a service that you front but the risk is mitigated elsewhere.

Michelle’s father, Robert,  had taught him the business,  he was disappointed that he hadn’t had a son and being an old-school gentleman, he didn’t think that his daughter and pride and joy Michelle would be interested or capable of running the business.

Charles was happy to learn and be part of this,  it offered him more rewards than he had ever dreamed of and his charm with Michelle’s fathers contacts had grown the business over the years.

Being a member of the right golf club and being able to give the right handshake helped,   it didn’t guarantee business but it always got you in the door.

Again Robert,  had been invaluable,  opening doors for him which would have remained close to him if he hadn’t met Michelle and chose a path towards a bright future rather than finding a boring job in an office somewhere.

The fact that he didn’t love her was neither here nor there,  he was always capable of picking up a bit on the side,  something to keep him amused until they became too close and he had to kill it off.

But people talk and he knew that Robert was aware of this,   that he didn’t condone it,  but as long as he didn’t bring it home and it was just a bit of fun then he’d turn a blind eye.

After all,  Robert had conspiratorially whispered late one Christmas day over a bottle of malt,  that he had done the same in his younger years stating that it was okay as long as it was meaningless it didn’t matter.   Robert leaned closer and whispered that he was sure that his wife knew about his affairs but turned a blind eye to it as long as everything was okay at home.

Then they laughed when Charles called him a crafty old bastard and Robert said that it takes a one to know one.

But time had moved on,  the kids were old enough now and it was time for him to break free from Michelle but first he wanted to ensure that his future was secure and the next years contracts were in place,  keeping the money rolling in while the divorce process runs its course.

Now he checked his emails,  waiting on the communication that the contracts would be renewed,  but there was nothing.  He’d give Alistair a friendly call in the morning asking if he wanted to join him for a round of golf on Saturday.  This may just stimulate the offer or at least get the last few points straightened out.  Alistair had already given him the nod that the contracts would be renewed,   it was just a matter of going through the process.

Alistair was head buyer for global company,  a valuable contact who had become a good friend over the years as they both enjoyed the high life and were always willing to provide alibis for each other.

They were like grown up teenagers telling their parents I’m staying at their friends house and vice versa.

Alistair had even borrowed Charles apartment on a few occasions for secret liaisons with whatever woman he was seeing.

Charles didn’t ask,   the unspoken rule was that you can never tell what you never know.

When Charles had explained the situation with Michelle and that he was thinking of starting divorce,   Alistair had been sympathetic and a good confidante.

When Charles suggested to him that he could provide the service that Michelle’s company currently provided,  with no cost difference to the company,  Alistair was more than happy to help a friend particularly if that helped him through a difficult situation and they carried on with their fun and games.

And so it had begun,  contracts had been signed,  Michelle’s loss was Charles’s gain.

When the new contracts came through,  he’d pull the trigger and get the divorce process under way.

He closed the browser and opened an explorer window,  browsing to his secret folder,  even although the laptop was kept under lock and key,  he didn’t like to take a chance.

He browsed past the meaningless rubbish and opened the encrypted zip file,  keying the password to access his latest memories.

The next 5 minutes he spent flipping through the images,  each one a memory from his recent past and more than enough to generate the necessary stimulation.

It was never as good as the real thing,  but if you can’t get it at home,  then it was a good second and he looked forward to more of the same after he had broken the matrimonial ties.

When he was finished,  he closed the laptop and put it back in the bag and pulled a couple of receipts from the coffee shops that he had visited,  meeting clients,  or meeting women,  it didn’t really matter,  as long as Michelle read them and he passed them to his PA later then he was playing the game of being seen to be doing the right thing.

He liked to think that he was meticulous in his deceit.

But there’s always a trace, particularly if you know how or where to look.

Michelle knew that there was no possibility of accessing Charles lap-top which he kept under lock and key most of the time, locking it in his desk drawer at night or the boot of his car when he wasn’t using it.

This had only made Michelle more suspicious and keen to determine what was on the disk and what he was up to.

She’d passed Alex from the investigations agency a spare set of keys and gave him the go-ahead to set up his equipment on a day that she had made sure Charles would be in the office all day.

Alex had been busy.


I enjoyed writing that,  writing about an out and out bastard is good fun .. and its going to get worse .. I’ve already started on something but saving that as its maybe a bit too much!

But right now I want to go and wash my mouth out with soap!!  🙂

Have a good weekend whatever you are up to!

The Platform Lovers – Engaged! #sex #adult #relationships

4am and Graeme couldn’t stop thinking about Mari.

Not the usual thoughts of fucking her every way he could imagine plus the few extra ones that she’d suggested. Positions that he had never imagined never mind tried. Some of them verging on yoga practice or a game of naked twister that had went badly wrong.

He went along with them, he would have done anything to please her. Even although he found these acrobatics over complicated and completely missed the point as she never actually orgasmed and they always finished in a simple more natural position and more often than not the closeness and contact from straight missionary just worked.

It had to be said, he enjoyed the experiments, it was fun to try out new things but in reality he couldn’t really be bothered with it.

He briefly smiled at that remembering their discussions about the difference.between making love and straight out and out fucking for pleasures sake.

Ironically despite her desire for advanced acrobatics, she preferred to “make love” or so she said but that was only true until she was lost in the moment of passion and then all that female idealism disappeared somewhere between the 69 and the 70.

What’s the 70?

Same as a 69 only …

They’d laughed at the old joke.

It has to be said, she is one filthy durty sexy gorgeous woman.

She knows how to turn a man on and she knows what she likes in return, lots of it and give it to me hard and fast as you like please.

They’d agreed, despite her actions, making love won they day, but he warned her that while she was from Venus he was from Uranus and if he occasionally called it fucking then her Babel Fish should automatically translate it to “making love” cos that’s what he meant and apologies in advanced if she misheard differently.

4am and he’d already had his 5 minutes think about her, his head full of images from their past liaisons and thoughts of her flashing through his head.

Despite the complicated positions it was the simple things he remembered, her lying on the bed naked with her legs wide fingering herself telling him to masturbate over her and not allowing him to touch her until they had both came together him coming over her breasts or tummy then she would suck him until he was hard again which never took long.

With hindsight although that was simple enough and the image of her lying there with her white tan lines and pink pussy lips open and exposed turned him on. It was a complete mind-fuck that she wouldn’t allow him to make love to her despite their bodies screaming out for that most human of touches.

But lying in the darkness on his own he preferred that image or the image of her sitting on top of him smothering him with her breasts to any of the complicated nonsense that occasionally followed. Keeping it simple just worked in practice or in his fantasies.

The simple images always made him come quickly and he’d normally be sleeping again within minutes of taking himself in hand.

But tonight he was restless, he’d already masturbated twice, once before he went to sleep and minutes ago trying to get back, but this natural tension release hadn’t been enough.

He’d tried to play it cool, tried to pretend that he wasn’t too bothered but their calls since Sunday and her faux passé about her ex had been brief and not their usual 2 hours in the phone putting the world to rights then although they’d said they wouldn’t finishing with phone sex sometime after 1am. That usually got him a peaceful nights sleep.

On Sunday night she’d said she was tired, he understood that, he was tired too. They’d had a fantastic day and night together Saturday but hardly any sleep. So it was no wonder that they were both tired.

But last night, Monday, their usual call after their kids were in bed was even shorter. She seemed distant and their call was short and she seemed preoccupied that she’d rather be doing something else.

It bothered him, but he listened to her telling him she’d had a tough day and she was tired and gallantly suggested that she should have an early night even although he had been looking forward to their usual long chat.

She made her excuses and apologies and hung up leaving him hanging there uncertain and more than a little confused.

He played the conversation back now, there was nothing that explicitly concerning, she wasn’t rude but her responses were much shorter than their previous conversations then he realised she never laughed.

Usually she would laugh for most of the conversation. He loved making her laugh and she said that she enjoyed his sense of humour but that didn’t happen tonight. Tonight was short and business like and he wondered why.

But what bothered him most was remembering that they had arranged dinner for Wednesday but had yet to decide if it was at his or hers but when he called her back it was engaged.

4am and nothing had been said but he knew this was broken. He could feel it even although he had no concrete evidence he just knew that the relationship was over and it was just a matter of time and waiting for her to say so.

He thought about that, that he was waiting for someone else to pull the trigger and shatter his happiness. It felt weak, dysfunctional and he wondered whether he should pull the trigger first or at least take steps to protect himself.

5am and still he couldn’t sleep the hour had passed quickly.

At 6am, 4am seemed like moments ago as he lay there staring at the darkness knowing he should sleep or he’d be out if sorts, tired and grumpy in the morning.

He slept sometime after 6, the flat-lined sleep of the dead. All that thinking had solved nothing and created more questions than answers. He decided he’d ask her for answers tomorrow.


Note to reader – I started writing this at 4am, post having a wee think!!

As you do!!

I’ve not been writing much apart from diary entries recently. But I’m glad I don’t have the troubled mind of Graeme. Been there did that.

My experience is that you write about what you know. It’s very cathartic being able to put old thoughts and fears out there.

I’d recommend that to anyone.

Anyhoo it’s now 515am and time I was sleeping.

Love!! 🙂

The Platform Lovers – Tricks?

Mari knew that she’d messed up, she just hoped that it was fixable that they could quickly forget her comment and move on.

She had already apologised, what more could she do? What else did he want from her?

Mari liked Graeme, she enjoyed spending time with him, he was intelligent and funny in his own quiet dry-humoured way.

Did she fancy him? Well she found him attractive, but that’s not the same thing.

He’s a lovely guy, gentle, reliable, willing to please, the sex was good, enjoyable, he made the effort to please her but the truth was that he just didn’t set her soul on fire.

When they were meeting, she always looked forward to seeing him, but if she was honest with herself, she didn’t get butterflies in her tummy when she thought of him.

She didn’t sit at her desk dreaming about him, feeling herself wriggling and squeezing her thighs together just to relieve the pressure. She hadn’t once been wet thinking about Graeme that only happened after they started kissing or caressing. Only when they were active, then nature took its course.

Even on the nights on her own, before Lily would come through for a cuddle or after she was sleeping silently, when she masturbated she didn’t think about Graeme,, she would never admit it, but it was either faceless or she still thought of Mark, Mark with his hard torso and the jeans that sagged around his skinny butt, but she knew what was underneath.

It had happened again last week, Mark standing outside his car waiting for Lily to run out, smiling at her as she opened the door and waving with Lily as they waved good-bye. She smiled and waved back, but then went inside and cried, she missed him, she couldn’t explain and she knew that it didn’t make sense, but she missed him, missed the life they had together.

She no longer cared that Mark had cheated on her, she wouldn’t forget it, she’s not even sure if she can forgive it, but she wanted him back.

She tried, she dropped enough hints, they’d been together for family events, putting up a common front at Lily’s school panto, going to parent-teachers nights together.

Afterwards, she’d even invited him in to the house, back where he belonged, but he refused, saying that he had to be somewhere but not saying where.

She knew that he was over her, even if she wasn’t over him, he’d moved on whether she liked it or not and she had to do the same, dreadful as it was.

She’d joined the dating site, met a few guys, been affronted by the sleaziness of some of the comments from complete strangers, she wondered if they would say the same things to women that they meet in a bar? Or show their private parts without expecting to be arrested, so why should they be able to do it online?

By comparison, Graeme was a breath of fresh air, quiet, funny, studious and he actually looked like his pics. That in itself was a bonus, he wasn’t fake, he was there open and honest and having met a couple of out and out liars she really was relieved to meet someone genuine, funny, interesting, generous and loyal/

But was it enough?

She couldn’t answer that and Mark was gone, maybe she had to give this new relationship some time. Maybe?

She moved her hand to his cock, lifting it from his thigh, it always amazed her how this soft piece of flesh could change into an instrument of pleasure.

She gently squeezed it knowing that it usually jumped into life, but nothing changed. She knew Graeme was quietly upset, but her comment had obviously hurt him harder than she’d thought..

Without saying a word, she pushed the covers down the bed, wriggled down after them and holding the base of his shaft she took as much of his flaccid soft cock in her mouth, holding it there for a few moments, letting him feel her breath warm his skin then moved her lips to its head and began slowly licking round the rim.

Funny how that always seemed to do the trick!

Are You More Beautiful Today?

How beautiful are you?
More beautiful than you know
That’s for sure
It’s in the warmth of your smile
And the kindness of your eyes
But you can’t see it yourself

How beautiful are you?
More beautiful than your children know.
That’s for sure
It’s in all the things that you do
And the pride that you feel
But they can’t see it themselves

How beautiful are you
More beautiful than your lover knew
That’s for sure
It’s in the memories you made
And the love that you gave
But he didn’t see it at the time

How beautiful are you?
More beautiful each day
That’s for sure
He can only appreciate you now
It’s so obvious since you’ve left
As he sees you with another man

Are you more beautiful today?

I knocked that up on the train to work and tidied it up on the way home.

That new job is keeping me far too busy and interfering with my writing time.

It has to go!!

Anyhoo, I was inspired to write a poem for a change after reading someone else’s unrelated work.

But it made me think poetry and somehow that popped up possibly because I was listening to Somebody Told Me by The Killers on the school run this morning.

I like that song but if you listen to the lyrics it’s actually quite dark. Jealousy is such a destructive emotion.

By contrast, i prefer the positive side. I like songs and stories about overcoming adversity, usually in love this is the unappreciated female role.

I don’t know why but I’ve always supported the underdog, maybe it’s because deep down I can relate to them?

Go figure!! 🙂