Complicity

"Well, I was thinking of just popping down to Viva Mexico…" I said (and almost added "as usual'), looking plaintively at Yvo

"Na," William said, grimacing. "I fancy some oysters. Let's go to the Cafe Royal, what d'you say?"

I said, "Umm…" I thought, Oysters…

"Our treat," Yvo

I met Yvo

They were doing business-studies courses. He was from Birmingham, though his parents were Scottish. She was from Bearsden, outside Glasgow. They met in the first week and were an item when I bumped into them in the sports pavilion a term later, one Saturday afternoon when William was about to play rugby and Yvo

Yvo

We usually make it to the bed these days but it's been an interesting and varied physical relationship and Yvo

So we're sitting in the Cafe Royal after a breezy walk down North Bridge and William has slipped a dozen live oysters down his throat (Yvo

We're sitting at a table in a corner of the restaurant; William and Yvo

Meanwhile I'm talking about 486s and clock-doublers and the up-coming P5 chip and CD-ROM and there are at least three things going on in my head because part of my brain's busy handling my conversation with William, another part is revelling in the sensations being produced by his wife's foot sliding up to my knee, giving me a monstrous erection under my napkin, and a third part is sort of sitting back listening to me talk to this cheery, affable man I'm cuckolding and it's thinking what a cool bastard I am, and how chatty, informed and charming I'm being while suffering this delicious, hidden, public, prick-engorging distraction. We're talking about multi-tasking and I almost want to say to him, "You want to know about multi-tasking? I'm doing it right now, pal."

Yvo

She delicately stifles a yawn and sits back in her seat, and I take a sudden breath which I have to disguise with a cough as her foot suddenly slides up between my legs. I foolishly lift my napkin to dab my lips after the pretend cough, and Christ, there's her foot resting on the front of my seat, her stockinged toes flexing forward to stroke my cock through the material of my trousers. I put my napkin down again quickly and return to the subject of full-motion video from CD-ROM, hoping nobody saw her foot. I don't think so. Could have been embarrassing if there'd been a waiter nearby. I surreptitiously pull the tablecloth over my lap and her foot as well. She's sitting back in her seat gri

I lift my champagne flute, nodding wisely at something William has just said.

"Anyway, must dash for a slash," he says, rising. Yvo

Yvo

"God, you look fuckable," I tell her.

"Mm-hmm," she says. She shrugs. "Sorry about all this."

"Never mind. God, you look fuckable."

"Want to meet up the day he goes?"

"Yes," I gulp. "Yes yes yes."

"Take off your shoe and get your foot up between my legs," she says quietly. "I'm not wearing any knickers."

"Oh, Christ."

An hour later and I'm standing in the gents toilet back at the paper with my right sock wrapped round my dick, masturbating. The smell of the sock clings to the skin around my nose; before I wrapped it round my cock I sat sniffing it, hauling its scent deep into my lungs. This is the second wank I've had; I really was about to come as I sat there eating my lobster with Yvo

"Cameron. You all right?"

"Fine, Frank."

"You look a bit pale."

"Feel all right."

"Good. Carse of Gowrie."

"Pardon?"

"Carse of Gowrie. You know; near Perth. Guess what the spell-check prefers?"

"I give in."

""Curse of Gorily"!"

"Stop it, you'll make me cry."