Lucky Man Pt. 01

Life is what you make it, make your luck, destiny is in your own hands.

Prologue

I might as well own up right at the front of our short-term hopefully intimate but rather one-sided relationship between you the reader and myself: I'm an arsehole, no, let's be brutally frank with you, I am one dumb stupid arsehole. And an unlucky one at that.

I never knew how well-off I was until I was temporarily very well-off, before becoming somewhat less well-off and then realised I might never again be as well-off as I was when I really was well-off.

If you are following me so far, well done, you should be proud of yourself, I feel happier believing that at least one of us in this fleeting acquaintance has something, however small, to be proud about.

I suppose the beginning of my sorry story is the best place to start.

Chapter 1. Beginnings

I believe I became disillusioned with my marriage about eleven or twelve years into it, which is more than ten years ago now. I discovered that my wife had been unfaithful. I came across the evidence and she admitted to a one-off affair in a fit of pique, because a short notice I was unable to accompany her on a holiday trip. She said she had immediately regretted the affair. We had planned the trip together, but I had to cancel at the last minute. We decided to stay together for the sake of our two young children, but the spell of our love was broken forever and our marriage became an empty shell.

When we met, my wife Ruth was a couple of years younger than me. By the time we married, a couple of years later, she had just left college to start working as a junior accountant, working evening classes towards becoming chartered. We were 22 and 20 respectively when we wed. She told me she was a virgin when we first met, but after 22 years of marriage I have evidence that that was a lie.

Ruth Edmundson was an only child living at home with her parents when we met. Her father was a bank manager and always seemed friendly towards me, despite our difference in class and circumstance. Ruth's mother however, thought I was something the cat had dragged in and, I believe, continually sought to undermine me at every turn with her daughter. It turned out to be an act on her mother's part; she clearly fancied a bit of rough when she tried to jump me about a month after I started seeing her daughter. I put her firmly in her place, that I would never betray Ruth and that if she tried anything again I would tell Ruth. Thereafter she never gave me reason to let Ruth know, the only secret I ever kept from her during all those years I've known her.

I was a bricklayer's labourer, living in some pretty desperate digs, having left home and school at 16 following a dust up with my father. To my future mother-in-law I was exactly as I described myself in my opening sentence. I had no education or qualifications, working as an unskilled labourer, more often getting paid cash in hand when I did work and earning absolutely nothing when weather conditions dictated otherwise. I was susceptible to work drying up from time to time. To the Edmundsons, I had few prospects for their only daughter.

But Ruthie thought the world of me at that time, or she appeared to me to do. After all, in some circles I was considered something of a catch. I was toned fit and tanned, of only average height but with thick dark hair long enough to tie in a pony tail (my only excuse reader is that the style was very fashionable at the time even among accountants and bankers). Ruth was blond and petite with bright blue eyes and, I must say, a very nice pair of tits.

We first met at a noisy dark disco in town and, to be honest with you, I really fancied her friend first but then so did Bob, my cousin and best mate. We both had a couple of dances with the pair of girls along with a couple of rounds of drinks in between. Her friend Carol was tall and slim, with small but high perky tits and legs that went on forever and she stood out not only by her height but her long frizzy, startling red hair. Also, she was loud and extraverted and appeared to be up for anything for a laugh, which definitely took the notice of a couple of randy fellows like my cousin and I.

When we suggested we go on somewhere quieter where we could carry on a proper conversation or something, the girls decided to deliberate their possible acquiescence by privately discussing us in the Little Girls' Room. I was the designated driver that night, restricting myself to the regulation two lagers and lime. (Look, this was a long time ago and tastes change, ok? Do you want to follow my story or not?)

Anyway, as I was going to be otherwise occupied in driving, my mate Robert had first dibs and naturally he opted for the willowy Carol. Damn! I thought, Carol was hot, slightly tipsy and clearly 'begging for it' big time. Bob was taller, darker, fitter, much more handsome than me, so the chances of swapsies and sloppy seconds later on was more than likely extremely bloody unlikely.

Bugger my luck! Not that Ruth was ugly or anything, but compared to the scrumptious Carol she seemed dowdy and dumpy in that dingy nightclub, with more than a touch of puppy fat around her middle and hips, although she did have the benefit of a nice sweet face. Her outstanding tits I had already commented on.

When the lovely ladies returned from their consultation, Carol grabbed Bob enthusiastically by the arm and dragged him off towards the exit. It looked like our argument about who had what dibs didn't count for a fig. The ladies, or one lady at least, made her choice and I distinctly got the feeling that had I lost out on the deal.

I drove the car, so my mate occupied the back seat with Carol from where they were soon making all sorts of interesting squeals and coos. Meanwhile I was stuck with Ruth in the front seats with her trying to make small talk and me concentrating on trying to get out of town and park up somewhere secluded to fulfil some potential action of our own. By the time we stopped, though, Bob and Carol were going at it full pelt and Ruth couldn't keep her ears or eyes off what was happening on the back seat.

I parked up in a shadowy layby that I had been undisturbed in before, pulled up the parking brake and released my seat belt. Following Ruth's example, I looked around too, it was wrong I know, but we felt compelled to. All I could see in what little moonlight twinkled through the filtering tree canopy was Carol's long black-stockinged legs in the air with a flimsy pair of white knickers comically caught up in the buckle of her shoe around her right ankle, and Bob's even whiter arse pistoning frenetically between her stockinged legs. Bob's rocking buttocks were held in a deeply-indented vice-like grip by Carol's multiple-ringed fingers, pulling him harder into her audibly slurping vagina.

If my beat up old car had had a working radio or cassette player I could have blanked out some of those disconcerting sound effects by cranking up the volume. What did I tell you about my luck? Consistent, ain't it? Ruth and me had attempted a little small talk on the journey trying to learn more about ourselves but it was an uphill struggle for both of us and, certainly towards the closing miles of the trip, I cannot honestly remember a word either of us exchanged.

I'd had a raging hard-on for the previous ten minutes, the tent in my trousers rubbing on that big old-fashioned steering wheel that I gripped with white knuckles, as I had motored to that secluded parking-up spot and thinking to myself why can't I be jammy with luck like Bob?

After I had stopped the car, remembering to pull up that dodgy safety brake, I spent a minute or two straining my neck staring at the spectacular bonking almost within touching distance, a taboo I had absolutely no intention of transgressing, before I tore away my gaze and looked at Ruth. She looked beautiful in the moonlight, she wore far too much make-up of course, but all girls around her age did, especially if they were not as confident about their looks as they might later become. The skin on her face looked smooth and translucent, her mouth was open slightly, her lips in profile looked fuller and more luscious then they had seemed in full face view.

I think that I was smiling at Ruth with the humour of the situation rather than any expectations of falling on my feet like Bob had. After all, when the girls were away about their ablutions earlier, both Bob and I had come to the conclusion that Carol was the one most likely to put out straight away while Ruth was the quiet one that would need investing time and effort in for a few weeks before she finally gave up the goods, if at all. Hence my disappointment in the distribution of dibs, although looking at her now I thought she wasn't bad, she certainly wasn't a plain girl.

My head turning in her direction must have broken Ruth's trance and she switched those shocked round eyes to focus on me. Then she relaxed and matched my grin with her own delightful, I thought, smile.

Ruth has always had a beautiful smile. It is wide and generous, crinkling up the skin below her cool-blue eyes, emphasising her high cheek bones, which framed her pert nose and flared nostrils perfectly. No dimples but a slightly tapered chin which made her face look younger and quite the sweet little girl. Just at that moment I thought she was actually quite pretty in the romantic moonlight, so much better than that harsh strobe lighting in the shadowy night club earlier.

My dick, though, was telling me that Ruth was more than just a pretty girl, she was extremely fuckable, so what the hell was I doing by not fucking her already? A young man's dick is always unruly and thinking for itself, however, we are not always ruled by its inclinations, despite evidence to the contrary.

I leaned into her and kissed her tentatively on the lips. Ruth tilted her head slightly as I closed the gap and our lips more or less met first time. We began with a couple of little daisy kisses as we sorted out each other's facial geography, while I moved my hands up to cup her face. After those first few kisses I poked a gentle enquiring tongue between her rosebud lips and she greeted mine with her own hot wet insinuating one. We changed the angle of our lips and I became gradually more articulate and forceful with my organ of taste. Our teeth clashed a couple of times as our lips adjusted and realigned their orientation but we were both borne away by the passion of simple kissing and stroking. I moved my left hand behind her head to pull her face more into my kisses and my right-hand fingertips stroked the back of her left hand which had moved up to cup my cheek. Her hand was warm and soft and felt nice, and I thought nice was so much better than nothing at all. I felt as romantic as any soppy girl at that point and thought it was time to man up and raise the ante a little.

As we increased the depth of our kisses, the fingertips of my right hand gently traced tiny circles on the back of her hand, then moved onto her forearm, before caressing her shoulder, inexorably heading for more intimate zones. Our gentle dreamy smooching was pleasurable even though it appeared to be in complete contrast to the passionate sounds not only still emanating from the back seat but escalating somewhat in intensity.

The shouts of Carol and Bob announcing their impending tandem coming, finally penetrated our concentration. I broke off our kissing, smiled warmly at the lovely Ruth and rolled my eyes skyward in an exaggerated gesture. She sniggered. Ruth possessed a little girl's giggle that attracted me then and has ever since and her innocent face lit up through a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. I was charmed, I thought to myself that this girl's stock is definitely a lot higher than my initial impression at the nightclub. I hadn't had many conquests until then but they were, to a girl, good-time slappers all. Only a handful had merited second or third dates and I'd had only two steady girlfriends until that point, neither of them lasting more than six months. No-one had come close to denting my stone-cold heart, until this girl presented possibilities. Perhaps I was just becoming more mature, so recently was I out of my terrible teens.

We tried our best to ignore the exuberant lovers and the all-pervading smell of sex penetrating every corner of the confined space of my stuffy old motor car. We resumed our own satisfactory sweet kissing, although I was seriously considering a gradual escalation might well be in order. My right hand's fingertips, which had been stroking her shoulder and throat up to that point, drifted down thankfully unopposed to fondle her ample soft left breast. I twisted my wrist so that the fingertips gravitated under that glorious orb and lightly lifted and weighed it several times to gauge its satisfying yielding ripeness and substance. Meanwhile, with my thumb I sought out and started lightly rubbing her nipple through the dulcimer thin layers of blouse and bra.

Ruth sighed and broke off our lengthy kiss but not before sucking in my lower lip and giving it a sharp nip between her even white smiling teeth, which sent a thrill of electricity through me. With another flash of her brilliant smile she tucked in her head to nuzzle and nip me in the erogenous spot where neck and shoulder meet, which sent another electric tingle through me.

"Mmmm, that's nice and gentle," she breathed referring to the mutually satisfying ministrations of my thumb. "My nipples are always sore when it's my time of the month."

She relaxed her head on my shoulder while I continued to lightly push her stiffened nipple up and down, across and around, while she made sweet little sighing noises between alternately kissing and biting my throat and neck where my collar allowed access. One of her hands abstractly stroked the back of my head and neck, playing with my silly pony tail, the other hand tracing little circles on my back, scratching at the fabric of my thin cotton shirt with her sharp highly polished nails.

All I could think though was, "Oh shit!"

Although I was thoroughly enjoying our kissing and light second base petting, her oblique reference to her deal-breaker monthly period soaked into my sex-obsessed thoughts. Double fucking shit!, my brain bemoaned internally. Not only have I got off with the less sexy of the two girls, ok, very recently upgraded to only slightly less sexy, it looked like I had sodding well struck out again, and would be keeping my engorged dick firmly hibernating for the rest of the evening. It was clear that yours truly, Marcus Newlands, was once again shit out of luck and would have to resort to a serious wanking session when I finally got back to the sanctity of my landlady's dingy digs before my frustrated id surrendered to sleep that night.

Behind us, the lucky bastard (bastard! bastard!) lovers had finished testing the ancient car's creaking springs to near-destruction and began their next chapter of breathlessly extolling what fantastic lovers one another were. In fact jointly agreeing they were the best lovers ever. Thanks guys, I really fucking well needed to hear all that, too.

With a jolt, as if the significance of her earlier unguarded remark had suddenly penetrated, Ruth lifted her head off my shoulder and gazed at me with wide open eyes.

"I am so sorry," she said steadily holding me with those big blue eyes and the thumb of her soft hand still gently stroking my cheek, "I am a bit of a ... erm, mess down there tonight, I really didn't realise the evening was going to get even remotely serious otherwise I would never have agreed with Carol to come along with you guys."

She bit her bottom lip, twisting it out of shape, like a little girl owning up to her strict mother about spilling blackcurrant juice all down her best party frock five minutes before the party was due to start.

Oh, yes, dear reader, I tell you that Ruth was getting even prettier minute by minute. How could anyone with feelings have been disappointed by her little girl lost look. Even as a 20-year-old maintaining a 25-minute hard-on that wasn't going down a hurry could forgive this girl anything. All right maybe not everyone would be as forgiving, but then what can I say? I was already half-smitten by her.

I grinned at her and kissed her on the tip of her nose, saying "You lovely girl, I am not in the least bit disappointed. I would be happy to stay all night with your beautiful head resting on my shoulder and feeling your sweet breath on my neck."

I moved my lips down a little and kissed her lightly, lips only, on her open o-shaped mouth, briefly sucking the bottom lip, so recently charmingly masticated, and added matter of factly, "Mind you, I wouldn't mind changing seats, though, so you can stop my other shoulder from getting jealous - then can I have a nice play around with your other nipple?!" I laughed again and she joined in my amusement with her delightful snigger.

Carol was leaning over the seats between our heads at that moment, trying to see why we were being so quiet. Carol reached over, cupped my head, pinning Ruth's hand to my cheek as well, and kissed me long and lingeringly on the lips. Then she turned to Ruth and said, "He's a keeper, you don't want let him get away, girl!"

In the back Robert indignantly said "Hey!" and tugged on his girl. Carol giggled, rolling her own eyes to the heavens, before falling back to resume snogging lover-boy Bob on the back seat.

I looked back at Ruth, perhaps she was my very own Ruthie now, if she followed her friend's advice, and said,

"This is how it is, Ruth. Cards on the table. I like you, I like you a lot and would like to see you again, maybe on a regular basis. Hey, I would even like to keep you if you are interested in keeping me. Perhaps we can do this again, any time you like. Would you like to come out with me tomorrow?"

I thought that Ruth was a little overcome by my gushing pronouncements but my gob was on a roll and I was in my stride. I'm a quiet person most of the time, but when I feel passionate about something there's no stopping me. There was no stopping me now and I was about to open my mouth again to end the long pause, when Ruth found her voice to reply, she was clearly not as non-plussed as I had imagined.

"And if you do see me tomorrow, would you be happy just to kiss like this?" she enquired, raising one lightly plucked and fullish pencil-blackened eyebrow before giving me another wet lip kiss. She broke the kiss off with a flourish by biting my upper lip this time and blinked at me with her innocent little girl look that she has always seemed to accomplish effortlessly whenever she had a mind to.

I nodded dumbly, I was in completely new territory. My experience with females had always been with slappers, there was no other way to describe them. I had never really felt any emotional reaction to a girl before but I instinctively believed that Ruth was one you could trust and rely on not sleeping with a stranger next week if she agreed to hook up with me. Anyway, the direction the conversation had been going, I was virtually on a promise in a few days' time anyway. Even if this relationship was doomed to failure in the long term, I might still get my end away in the very near future. When you are 20 and single, that was a result!

Perhaps my nodded affirmation had been too perfunctory, as she still looked at me quizzically, with that Mona Lisa female smile that spoke volumes without actually giving anything away.

"Yes," I emphasised, vocalising my previous gesture, "I would love to see you tomorrow. We could do anything you want: go for a walk, or a picnic or have a drink or meal out. We could start getting to know one another. If you like we could just kiss and cuddle while the sun goes down after spending the day together."