Martin and Lexi

[sgsg69]

wow, o, wow.........this is a great form of writing style. Totally agree with the pace and depth of character interaction. Please stay true to this and tell this story in great, great detail and lets see where Lexi's "experimental" boost take her. Can't wait for more!!

Karma to you, k+++++++++++++++++++

[SheWrites]

Thanks all.

I'm working on updating this story. Things have been hectic with work, and I'm also prioritizing my science fiction novel first.

That said, I'll try to release 1 to 2 chapters of this story every week.

[SheWrites]

Part 1, Chapter 5

Martin called in sick the following Friday. He told his boss he had the flu. He even stuffed a pair of cotton buds up his nose to make it sound more believable over the phone, and it worked like a charm. He spent the rest of the morning getting himself ready for his date with Lexi. Showered, threw on a pair of black jeans, a red button-down shirt—because hey, he was feeling feisty—and went shopping for some cologne in his local men’s shop.
   
He got a call from Lexi at around 12 PM. She had changed a lot since they had sex for the first time. She was hitting the gym ruthlessly every day, once before her shift and twice after. Whenever Martin showed up to her house for a workout session, she was adding more weight to the bar than the night before; not much, but enough for him to understand that she was steadily growing stronger. Her muscles started filling out too. They weren’t growing noticeably bigger but they were certainly getting harder. She looked like one of those fitness chicks from the magazines, although considerably tougher-looking.
   
He answered her call. It turned out she was only wanted to remind him of their plans this afternoon, and that she didn't forget about them. Martin told her the same thing, and that he was excited about them finally getting to go somewhere where they didn't have to grunt and sweat for the entire night. Not that he disliked that; he just wanted something a little more romantic.

Come two o’clock, he was parked in her driveway. She walked out the front door dressed in her red whisper jacket and a pair of ripped jeans. He could see how much muscle she had packed on in those quads—like trunks ripped from their roots, flexing with each step—and she had that smile on her face, beautiful even in the overcast noonlight.
   
A handbag hung from her shoulder to her waist. She took a sip of water from her Healthy Habits bottle. “Miss me?” she said, shutting the lid. Although he had been seeing her almost every night of the week, he had, indeed, missed her.
   
Martin laughed. “Those clothes aren’t hidin’ anything. C’mon, show me the quads.”
   
That cracked her up. “What a forward young man you are,” Lexi teased. She zipped her jacket open, revealing a black T-shirt. She pulled the hem back, placed her left leg forward, and flexed. Just as expected, the muscle exploded to life. Even in such constricting clothing, there was something so fascinating about it, like it exuded sexual energy. “Wanna see my abs?” She didn’t even wait for an answer before lifting the bottom of her shirt.
   
“Yeah—” Jesus.

Six blocks of muscle rimmed by chiplike obliques. She’s been putting in work. “You like that?” Lexi asked, almost cockily.

“Fuck yeah I do.” His response came out louder than he had anticipated. “That drug is no joke. You noticed any side effects yet?”

She gave him a kiss on the lips and climbed onto the back of his Harley-Davidson Cruiser. The smell of her lilac perfume wafted into his nostrils. Heaven. “Yeah, I'm hungry for some lions,” she joked. “Now let’s get movin’!”

And move, they did. It didn't take long to arrive at the Hungry Lyons, not long at all, which was surprising considering the traffic was normally buzzing during lunch hour.

The restaurant itself wasn’t anything special. The floor was chequered red and white while the walls were a delicate shade of auburn. There were plenty of blue-collar workers sitting down for their breaks, eating wraps, paninis, whatever the hell tickled their fancy.

Lexi zipped off her whisper jacket and wrapped it around the head of the chair. Her biceps bulged through her T-shirt sleeves, once the size of lemons, now at least an inch larger (if not more), and much much harder. “Something catch your eye?”

“Those pills are somethin' else,” Martin told her. “They don’t make stuff like that for men, do they?”

“Unfortunately not.” She flexed her bicep and stared at it admirably. It was like a bulge from the Himalayas. There was that smirk again. “Still, you guys can always use steroids.”

“So can you.”

“True, but I’d rather not have a clit the size of a pencil and a voice as deep as an alligator’s. I take pride in my femininity. It’s part of the reason I started working out in the first place.”

“A lot of guys associate muscles with masculinity.” Martin grabbed one of the menus from the table. “Buddy of mine I used to work with hates them. Says anyone who’s into chicks who can lift more than them are secretly gay.”

She brushed a stray curl of hair from her eye. The sunlight seeps in through the window wall and casts an orange glint on her iris. “Sounds like he needs to get laid.”

“That’s the problem,” he said. “He somehow managed to pull a new girlfriend every other month. God knows where from.”

She interlocked her hands and nonchalantly swayed them from side to side, as if she was massaging lotion into her palms. “What do you think of muscles on a woman? I mean, I know you’re into me, but I’m always conscious that a guy might just be into me for my looks. There has to be some synergy, you know? I feel some between us.”

Some is an understatement. Martin smiled. “Your work ethic is sexy. Don’t get me wrong, I love your body, but the fact that you're so hellbent on achieving your goals makes you ten times sexier..”

“I love your body, too,” she replied quickly, flashing him a seductive wink.

He laughed—a nice sound right from the chest. “We ought to order. In case things get too hot in here, yeah?”

She grabbed a menu of her own. “I like the sound of that.”

A woman dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt approached their table. She was holding a tray with some milk glasses and a pitcher of water. Her smile quickly broadened into a grin when she noticed Lexi. “I take it this is your new man, Lex?”

“He’s a catch, isn’t he?” said Lexi.

“Ah sure, he’s handsome in all the right ways.” The waitress cleared the dirty plates left over from the previous customers and stacked them on top of the tray before placing the pitcher at the centre of the table. She offered him a handshake. “Eilish.”

He accepted it. She had a firm grip. “I’m Martin. You Irish?”

“Red hair not obvious enough?” Eilish placed the glasses on either end of the table. “Yeah, I’m Irish, got a problem with it?”

“No problem here, Eye-leeesh.” He chuckled.

“Funny.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a notebook. Then she took the pen from her breast pocket and clicked it. “I suppose that’s the sorta shit that makes your woman laugh. Look at the muscles on you!” She pointed at Lexi with the pen.

“New Adonis package I told you about,” cheered Lexi. “Works like a charm.”

“I’d imagine so. You’ve nearly bigger arms than him.”

The three of them laughed at that. Though, upon closer inspection, Martin realised they actually weren’t that much smaller. There was still a gap—a natural man versus a natural woman—but it wasn’t as noticeable as it had been before. He thought that in time she might even catch up to him; in fact, she more than likely would, especially considering that she now had a supplemental advantage to go along with her insane dedication.

Eilish clicked her pen again. “What can I get ye? I suppose steak for the beour and salad for the feen?”

“Honestly not too far off.” Lexi looked at the menu and read out her order: “Steak wrap, chicken & rice, side of eggs on toast, and…”

“You want a cow with all the protein, Arnold?” said Eilish.

Lexi giggled. “I think some Greek yoghourt would be nice.”

“Drink?”

“Flat white.”

Eilish shook her head with disbelief as she noted this all down. Martin couldn’t blame her. That was a ridiculous appetite for such a… well… small woman. He didn't even think he would have been able to eat that much food, even at his fittest. “What about you then?” Eilish turned to him.
   
Martin ordered the eggs and bacon with a plain Americano.

***

Lexi ate up the food without an issue, and with the polite table manners of a lady. She said she wasn’t even full by the time they were finished.

Eilish couldn’t believe it. She thought that drug must have given her some superhuman metabolism, and Martin agreed.

“Say, who’s stronger between you two?” asked Eilish.

Martin and Lexi exchanged surprised glares.

“Her, probably,” said Martin.

Lexi spread her hands. “Oh heavens no. I may be strong but that's just lifting weights. He has man strength. He’s a lot stronger than I am.”

Eilish snickered as she cleared their table and transferred the final bits of cutlery to the tray. She placed the bill on the table: $61.24.

Yikes. No wonder Lexi works here.

“You two should arm-wrestle to find out.”

Martin waved a dismissive hand. “You’re too funny, Eye-leeesh.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” Lexi told him.

Martin blinked. “Really now?”

“A bit of fun. Just to see how close I am to beating you, if I even have a chance.” She put her arm up on the table.

“Nah, not right now. I’m full, and very uncomfortable after those eggs.” It was a weak lie at best, but there was some truth to it. Particularly the part about the eggs; they had tasted… fishy. Martin pulled out his wallet and paid the bill using a pair of fifties. Eilish walked away to get his change.

“Come on-nnnnn, Martin.” There she was with that smile of hers, and with her budding shoulder and arm muscles, she looked more captivating than ever. “Scared to lose to a girl? Hmmmm?”

He sighed, thought about it, and concluded he was scared to lose to a girl. Mostly because they were in a public place. “Not now, Lexi.”

She pouted playfully. “Why not?”

“’Cause you’re gonna win.”

She snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just a bit of fun. I wanna see how strong I am.”

Martin smirked and grabbed her hand, but instead of locking wrists, he interlaced his fingers with hers. “How about we find out how strong you are when we head back to my place? Not yours, mine.” He winked.

Her forehead wrinkled when she opened her mouth into a surprised aaah, as if to say, I like the sound of that.

[SheWrites]

Part 1, Chapter 6

Dark clouds rolled over the city and the rain was now pouring down. When Martin finally put the Harley-Davidson Cruiser into park and Lexi was shivering from the sudden dip in temperature, they hurried more quickly than ever up Laker’s Grove, a milk market of small kiosks – florists, clothing shops, delis with tweed hampers of fruit on display, stationers, each protected by polymer tarps. Some of the local merchants pulled the clothing racks in from the rain, and after a glance, Martin noticed the same red whisper jackets Lexi hanging from the for-sale boards.
   
“You live up here?” she said – yelled, actually. Her voice was subdued beneath the clamour of more than thirty people packed into the milk-market walkway.
   
“Unfortunately,” said Martin. It wasn’t always like this. Most of the time, especially in the early mornings, there was hardly anyone around, save for the greengrocers who normally got their produce in before dawn.
   
Two minutes later they were standing on the grated walkway of Martin’s apartment complex (which was in serious need of a polish), two storeys high and set above a line of dumpsters and broken wicker chairs, almost a dozen of them, all sticking out from a pile of uncollected garbage bags. It was no romantic getaway. In any other situation Martin wouldn’t have dared to bring a woman down here, never mind to his apartment, but he felt that Lexi wasn’t one to judge someone for their place of residency. She was very personal that way, a girl with all the esprit of a puppy charging into the big bad world, and who wouldn’t waste time looking at things so black and white.
   
“It’s… nice,” she said, but there was a touch of polite dishonesty in her tone.
   
“If I had the money to move out, I would.” He jacked his key into the door of his apartment and rotated it until the lockplate clicked. “But as long as I’m stuck in Old Timer’s, I’m a stranded man. Watch the step.”
   
“Now you’re making me feel bad about you paying for the package.”  She pulled off her motorbike helmet and let her hair fall down over her shoulder. Despite being covered for the entire drive and walk up here, it was still damp, if not with rain, then with a light film of sweat. “Way to guilt-trip me,” she said as she stepped inside behind him, minding the step.
   
At least his apartment looked nicer inside than it did outside. The garbage was actually kept in the bins. He had expected the windows to be open—just to let some fresh air in while he was away—and they were, but it for some reason still felt very stuffy, even with the rain sweeping in from under the panes. Was he nervous? Him? Actually nervous to bring a woman home? God, when was the last time he did that?
   
Never. The last time he got together with a woman, it was with his ex, Angela Wilbor, in her apartment. She wasn’t quite as muscular as Lexi—in fact, she didn’t really work out at all, and for the most part she had that natural girlmuscle that came from years of lifting heavy boxes at a department store—but despite that, she certainly felt the need to be a lot more controlling. Things started out okay: she would kiss him good morning, ask him how his day went, and respect him like a normal human being. Eventually, she wanted to know where he was going, who he was talking to, and why he wouldn’t pick up any of her calls. That last part had an easy explanation, one which he didn’t share with her only because he didn’t want to get into any more fights than necessary: He simply didn’t want to. Whenever he went out with some of his friends, he would shut his phone off. After all, he couldn’t answer any calls if the phone was turned off, right?
   
Well, she eventually caught on. All it took was some snooping through his pockets after he came home drowsy and slightly tipsy one night. She was pissed, and from that day onward, she didn’t want him going anywhere without her permission.
   
If Martin had any self-respect, he would have left that relationship as soon as she said that, but his love for Angela outran logic and reason. Love was a curse that sometimes chained you to the wrong person. He learned that the hard way.
   
Even after she finally broke up with him, he felt terrible about it. Her, an absolute asshole, dumping him.
   
“You definitely have good taste in furniture,” said Lexi. Now she was being genuine. Martin didn’t need to see her face to know that. “The smell of… what’s that… cinnamon?”
   
“Coffee.” He shut the door behind them and unzipped his jacket. “I spilled some of it this morning when I was getting ready for our date.”
   
She hummed. “It adds some pzazz to the place. I like it.”
   
“Not as much as I like you though,” he said boldly.
   
She laughed, unzipped her whisper jacket, and hung it on the coat rack. “Maybe. Or maybe you just haven’t seen all sides to me yet.”
“Your ass is as good as your front,” he said. “Not sure you realise that yet, do you?” He placed a kiss on her lips and she grinned.

“You should learn how to talk to a lady,” she joked.

Yeah, maybe I should. But for now, let my dick do the talkin’.

It hardened in his jeans, beginning to point up painfully as he pulled her in closer. Her lilac perfume was still strong, but now it mixed with her natural pheromones, that same scent of sweat he got when he first started working out with her in her backyard gym. There was something so intoxicating about it.

He pressed her against the wall, knocking the coat rack onto the carpet and causing their coats to become tangled with the mess of scarves, beanies, and coats which had been hanging there for the past two winters.

She reached up to unzip his red button-down shirt—even made it two or three buttons down—but then a song began to play. Heavy metal. Low at first, then loud. It was coming from her pocket. Lexi broke the kiss and backed away. “Who’s this?” she said, slightly breathless, slightly frustrated. The name of the caller was AD0N1S INSTRY.

“Adonis?” said Martin, confused. “Why are they callin’ you?”

“Shit.” She walked farther into his apartment, accepting the call with a swipe and placing the screen up against her ear. Her shoulders, nicely striated, bulged from the effort, as slight as it was. “Yes?”

Some silence. Martin began making his way towards the kitchen to fill up a glass of water from the tap.

“Yes, this is she. What’s this about?”

He took a sip.

“This is my first week.”

More silence.

“Fine. Everything’s fine. No side effects.”

Well, that’s debatable. I don’t buy for a second that a small woman like her had a sex drive or appetite that big. Not before the package, anyway.

She had a puzzled look on her face. “What do you mean?”

Martin was suddenly hit with a bad feeling, a strange sense of unease, the sort of unease that often comes before the arrival of bad news: whether a loved one is going to die in their hospital bed, whether an asteroid is going to wipe out humanity in the morning, whether Jesus is suddenly going to appear from the clouds with his mighty scroll and list off all the names that are going to make into his kingdom of heaven, and then those who will be left behind to burn in hell. This feeling was realbad.

“I hope not,” she said, making eye contact with Martin.

He spread his hands. “What’s going on?” he muttered, too low for whoever was on the other end of the line to hear, but loud enough for her to understand what he was saying. He was sure of it.

She backtracked to the coat rack, picked up her handbag from the pile, and pulled out a pen and a sticky note. She went into the kitchen and began scribbling things down, punctuating each thing listed with an “Uh-huh” and “Yeah”.

“Lexi?” Martin said, louder than before.

She raised her hand as if to silence him. “Okay, thanks, Dr… what was it, again? … Just Zef? Okay. Thanks, Zef. I’ll let you know. Bye.” BEEP-BEEP-BEEP! The call ended.

Martin spread his hands again, now looking equally as confused as she had moments ago. “What is it?”

Slowly, she said, “It’s Adonis.”

“I know that,” he replied quickly. “Who’s Zef? What does he want?”

“He’s the Lead Scientist behind the experiment. At least, as far as actually making the drug goes. I think. He was one of the first people I spoke to after ordering the drug.”

“And?”

She sighed and looked at the piece of paper. “Well apparently some of the other people who started the experiment a while ago finally came back to him with some feedback. Particularly about She-Booster.”

“And?”

She took a moment before responding. Not taking her eyes off the paper, she said, “There are side effects.”

Yeah, I knew I had a bad feeling about this. He took a deep breath, pulled out the seat at his kitchen table, and sat. He cracked his knuckles. “What are they?” he asked, hoping—just hoping—she wouldn’t say anything life-threatening, like cancer, or dementia, or some undiscovered disease only caused by this drug.

Finally, she said, “It causes, well, like you guessed before, an increased sex drive.”

“What else?”

She continued looking at her notebook. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t smiling. “Well, have a look for yourself.” She slid the note across the table and Martin quickly snatched it up. It’s gonna be cancer, it’s gonna be dementia, it’s gonna be something undiscovered.

This was how his mind—sane, reasonable, and quite unprepared to admit or even recognise anything which smacked of deadly diseases—would react to something which had put him on edge since the beginning.

“Increased…” He had to squint to zone in on the tight lettering, then they widened.

The word on the sticky note read, albeit in poor handwriting: Clitoris size.

[Maestro]

What a terrific story!! They are a wonderfully sexy couple and her muscles are just great. I hope the author will see fit to continue. Please!!

[Wookey]

I hope they can make a men’s version. Or he gets his booster from eating her out.

[SheWrites]

Part 1, Chapter 7

He stood for a moment, staring stupidly at the words, feeling the way he had as a small child when he first found out that storks didn’t carry babies from the moon and drop them off at their parents’ doorsteps—puzzled, caught with half of his brain in the real world and half of it in the world of make-believe. But the words Lexi noted down were real; he only had to look at her face if he doubted that.
   
She stuffed her phone in her pocket and let out a sigh. Now she seemed even more confused—stressed even—and Martin gave her the sort of glare people reserve for those with whom they have shared great or intense disagreement.
   
“I thought you said it was tested by the FDA—” Martin said.
   
“It was.” She scrubbed her fingers through her hair, dug them deep into her scalp, and let go. Her look of confusion was replaced with a look of caution. “The experiments were done on animals, rats, then on people, both men and women, but the men didn’t show a reaction. It was written down that they had too much testosterone to be affected. Women reacted easily, and for months they showed no side effects.”
   
“There’s a simple solution: don’t take any more of that She-Booster shit. Frankly, I had a bad feeling about it from the start.” That, of course, was an understatement. He thought that if anything accelerated muscle gain at such a high rate then there was no way it wouldn't screw with someone's hormones.
   
She looked almost embarrassed, and this had a reassuring effect on him. “But what about all the money we spent? What now?”
   
“Fuck the money,” he said, although part of him hated the idea of letting the package go to waste. “Maybe if you end the subscription you can get a refund.”
   
“That’s not how experimental packages work,” she said.
   
Martin thought about asking for Zef’s number and rejected the idea. He could probably do that at a later date without her knowing. His contact details—or at least Adonis’ contact details—were bound to be somewhere online, perhaps next to an upcoming news article that would document these newfound side effects. NEW DRUG MAKES WOMEN GROW PENISES, he imagined. BANNED ACROSS AMERICA. But what if nobody told the press about it? What if Adonis or the ladies who suffered from these side effects didn’t care enough to let the public know? Was that a possibility?
   
“Martin.” She reached across the table and grabbed the sticky note. “What are you thinking about? Oh God, you’re thinking about leaving me, aren’t you?”
   
“What?” He shook his head with disbelief. “No. No, of course not!”
   
“I can see it in your eyes. You think I’m going to turn into a man.” Her voice was clear, but Martin could make out a quaver of sadness lingering at the back of her throat.
   
He only repeated “No,” and she crumpled the piece of paper in her fist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
   
“Why are you apologising?” He took her hand, which was hot and sweaty and tense. She relaxed it. “Like I said, don’t worry about it. All you have to do is stop taking—”
   
“I’m not gonna stop, Martin.” She looked up at him with teary films in her eyes. They glistened in the gentle afternoon light pouring in through the high-facing kitchen window. Any brighter and they might have looked like abalone shells emerging from the froth of a foreign wave.
   
Silence impressed itself upon them. Rain spattered the window like jazz percussion. Martin’s thoughts wandered.
   
“What do you mean?” he asked slowly.
   
“I want this so bad,” she said.
   
“It’ll damage your health,” he said, louder.
   
“There’s a way around it,” she said. “I think.”
   
He nodded eagerly, but not in an agreeing way; in a go-on-then sort of way.
   
“This drug is more effective than any steroid on the black market,” she said. “And I have a year’s supply. If I hold back on taking so many at once, or at least in smaller time frames, then I might be able to manage my hormones better. That’s how micromanaging your doses works, and this is a pill. And it’s already paid for. And—”
   
“It’s a fucking steroid, Lexi!”
   
The words came out deeper than his normal speaking voice—it was like the voice of a man in terrible pain. He let go of her hand and pulled out his phone. He searched up details about this “Adonis crowd”, where they were located, how trustworthy their business actually was, and if anything about the “increased clitoris size” had washed up on the most recent news articles from perhaps Science Daily or The Royal Society of Medicine. He looked like a man intending to phone his son’s principal about ongoing mistreatment in school. Cords almost stood out on his neck, his mouth was turned in a sneer, and his eyes were full of frustration.
   
As expected, he found nothing. Not so much as a number or a name. Just the subscription site, where all you needed to give was a name and an email. The payment method was supposedly sent through there.
   
“Martin,” she said.
   
“What?”
   
“What are you doing?”
   
“Looking for this Zef asshole to call off the experiment or I’m reporting it to the FDA. They’ll contact everyone taking part in the experiment and seize everything. She-Booster’ll be illegal. It’s a new steroid, Lexi. That’s what you’re not getting.”
   
She closed her mouth as if she would not demur. Then she scoffed. “Why do you care so much? It’s not like it’s your body you have to worry about. I told you I would manage it.”
   
He heard that bit, loud and clear, only he found it ridiculous. “You don’t know what it can do. It might not be like those other PEDs.”
   
“Because it’s new?” She crossed her arms, and for the first time in a hot minute he was reminded of the amount of muscle she had. They were like thick ropes turned in on each other, hard like steel, ripped like treebark.
   
“Because…. Jesus, Lexi—”
   
“Just listen to me, alright? God, will you just listen to me? I told you that I’ll micromanage it. I really want this, more than anything.”
   
“You’re an idiot, Lexi,” he said, but he was smiling. He couldn’t believe how outrageous she was being.
   
She stared at him for a while, a while so brief that by all accounts Martin shouldn’t have had the time to realise that he had taken things a little too far with his approach… but he did, and she scowled. “Fuck you, Martin,” she said gravely, stood up from the table, and made her way out of the kitchen into the hallway.
   
“Lexi.” Martin followed her, feeling regret drop from his throat to his stomach. “I’m sorry. Look—”
   
She was rummaging through the heap of beanies, scarves, and coats. She eventually pulled out her red whisper jacket.

Martin put a hand on her shoulder. “—I’m sorry—”

She snatched his wrist, turned, and shoved him against the wall. She did so with such incredible force that Martin was left incredibly flabbergasted. “I said fuck off, Martin!” She zipped up her jacket and bent down to pick up her handbag.

Suddenly, just like that, he was angry again, not as much as he had been moments ago, but angry nonetheless. “Hey,” he yelled, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I told you—”

She turned around, grabbed his wrist again—this time with much more strength than before—and swung him to the side, right against the wall. He was briefly reminded of the first time they had sex and he had her pressed up against her living-room mantel. He wasn’t sure why; it was perhaps once again one of those intrusive thoughts that sometimes come to people in the heat of the moment. Regardless, he was shocked.

He tried to break free and tell her to relax, to grab her by the shoulders and calm her down as he would have done with his ex Angela Wilbor, who at times would be so irate that restraining her was no doubt the only option, but Lexi wouldn’t let up. No matter how hard he pushed, this significantly shorter woman had him pinned against the wall of his apartment—her prisoner.

“Is this what you wanted?” she yelled, now reminding him—indeed—of Angela Wilbor. “I told you to fuck off, Martin. Don’t you dare touch me like that, ever again. Do you understand me? Do you?”

“I was just trying to say—” I was sorry, he wanted to finish, but she cut him off.

“I heard you the first time, asshole,” Lexi said. She didn’t know whether to look amused or exasperated. “Do I look like I give a shit about your apology?”

“No, of course not, but—”

“No fucking buts, Martin! You better stop acting like you can control my decisions, and don’t you dare make threats that you’ll report this and get something we both paid for taken away. I told you a long time ago that you didn’t have to do this, and yet you went through with it because I was coaching you. That right?”

He took a moment to respond. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Everything clear to you?” she said, her tone lowering.

He nodded. “Yes, I wasn’t thinking when I said it. I was just concerned about you. That’s all.”

He reached out and touched her lightly on the shoulder. It was hard and tense and incredibly strong, even through the jacket. A woman with more experience of the world would have known that someone like Martin was bad news, even one as joyful as her, for what it was and consequently would not have been entirely surprised by what she did next. Martin, still pressed against his own wall by a woman he loved greatly, was stunned to temporary silence when she leaned forward and placed a passionate kiss on his lips.

[Wookey]

Nutbag alert

[phil123]

Now the growing starts