The Three Halves of Martyn Manning: Chapter Eight - Revelation - Part Two

He
was woken early by a bright shaft of sunlight forcing it’s way
through a gap in the curtains. He checked his conscious to see if his
sub-conscious had sent any overnight messages. No, nothing yet. Not
surprising really given that he’d fallen into a deep stupor five
seconds after his head had hit the pillow. He opened his eyes and
stared at the ceiling to assess the state of his hangover. He felt a
little stiff and his throat was dry but nothing that coffee and a
shower wouldn’t sort out. Also his head was throbbing, just a
little, but it reminded him of the old joke. “There’s only one
thing I like throbbing at this time of day and it’s not my head!”.
Ah yes, time for the hangover wank, one of his favourites types. But
who to choose this morning? Who would give him the best bang for his
buck, so to speak? Someone new or an old favourite? He had a quick
think and couldn’t come up with anyone new so he began trawling
through through his mental archives. How about Leanne, the fiery
Scottish redhead who used to work for him. He could do the one where
they were on a business trip and got drunk together in the hotel bar,
then she asked him up to her room to check her presentation. Or maybe
Wendy, the pretty divorced mother he occasionally talked to at school
events, whose banker ex-husband presumably paid for the Porsche and
the school fees. She might ask him round for a coffee and one thing
would lead to another. Then he heard the faint clatter of cutlery
coming from the kitchen. Caroline must be loading the dishwasher. Ah
yes, of course, Caroline. Beautiful sexy Caroline. Lithe, young, posh
Caroline. He hadn’t done her for a while and she was always good
value for money.

 

He
shut his eyes to block out the sunlight and nestled under the duvet.

 

It
would be late at night and the house would be silent. Martyn would be
in bed, head and shoulders resting against a pillow, the pillow
resting against the headboard. There’d be a soft glow from his
bedside lamp. He’d just be finishing the last few pages of a book
before going to sleep. Suddenly there’d be a soft knock on the
bedroom door.

 

“Yes?”
Surprised and confused.

 

“Martyn?”
Caroline’s muffled voice came through the door. “I’m really
sorry to bother you but there’s something important I want to tell
you and I won’t be able to sleep unless I can get it off my mind.
Can I come in for a minute?”

 

“Course
you can Caroline. Come in.”

 

She
opens the door, walks into the bedroom and stands by his bed. She’s
wearing dark pink flannel pyjamas with a repeated two-tone Scottie
dog motif in black and white. Her silky hair hangs over her
shoulders. She looks radiant but troubled.

 

“Hi!
You look concerned. So what’s up? It can’t be that bad. Sit on
the side of the bed and make yourself comfortable and you can tell me
all about it.”

 

Caroline
sits and gathers herself, then begins.

 

“Something
happened today. It’s about Felix. I wanted to tell you earlier but
I didn’t have the courage ‘cos I knew you’d be upset. But I
keep thinking about it. Like I said, I won’t be able to sleep until
I get it off my mind.” She pauses.

 

“Go
on.”

 

“Well
I brought them both home from school and asked them what they wanted
to eat. Felix said he wanted eggy bread. So I went to get some eggs
and when I turned round there were tears pouring down his cheeks. I
went to comfort him and asked what was wrong He said “Mummy used to
make me eggy bread.” Poor mite. He’s only ten. And then Katie
burst into tears as well. I didn’t know what to do.”

 

“So
what did you do?”

 

“I
just tried to comfort them. I told them their Mummy loved them very
much, and was always skyping and sending them presents. And their
Daddy loved them very much too.”

 

“And
what happened then?”

 

“To
be honest they settled down pretty quickly. Five minutes later they
were fighting over the biggest piece of eggy bread, and five minutes
after that they dashed off with their ipads. Maybe it was nothing,
I’m over-reacting.”

 

“OK,
Caroline. You did the right thing telling me. Don’t worry any more
about it. I’ll have a talk with them both in the morning.” He
hesitated. “Go get a good night’s sleep. You’re a good girl
Caroline, the kids are very lucky, to have you. I’m very lucky to
have you.”

 

“And
you’re a good man Martyn. It’s awful the way Janet treated you,
just going off like that.”

 

“Thanks
Caroline.”

 

She
stands up from the bed and takes a step towards the door before
stopping and turning.

 

“You
look so cozy and warm wrapped up in that duvet.”

 

“I
am.” He pauses. “There’s plenty of room for two. Climb in and
snuggle down.”

 

He
was already quite hard but he didn’t want to touch himself yet. He
turned on to his front so he could rub against the mattress.

 

“OK,
just to get warm.”

 

She
climbs into bed and pulls the duvet around her. They lay facing each
other, their eyes four inches apart, noses almost touching. Martyn
places his hand lightly on her hip.

 

“Are
you naked Martyn?”

 

“Of
course. I always sleep naked. It gives me a strange feeling, hard to
describe, a feeling both of freedom and invincibility. You should try
it.”

 

“I
should.”

 

He
moves back a little, allowing his hand to slowly move till it rested
briefly on her breast, before slowly unbuttoning her pyjama front. He
surveys her stony upturned breasts, the apricot skin-down with the
darker ring of colour, offering its central tribute.

 

He
tears away his gaze and looks back into her eyes.

 

“Are
you going to fuck me Martyn?”

 

“I’d
like to, but only if you want me to.”

 

She
smiles. “Yes, I’d like that.”

 

He’s
hard now. He turned over onto his back and pulled down his pyjama
trousers to get a better grip. He started to work his shaft. He moved
quickly through scenarios. She’d be a squirmer in the Missionary,
he’d like that. Then she’d suck him and ride him hard till she
came, falling breathless over his chest. Then after a short rest;

 

“Your
turn now. How do you want me?”

 

“I
don’t know. What’s on the menu?”

 

“Anything
you want. You have my permission to be creative. And I like it rough.
Go on, make me feel like a whore...”

 

“We’ll
start with doggy.”

 

She
raises herself on her hands and knees, legs slightly apart to allow
him access. He kneels behind her and she guides him in with the small
delicate fingers which make his cock feel all the bigger. He begins
to move, then to pound.

 

“Do
you like that? Is that hard enough for you?”

 

“Harder.
Harder. Fill me with your come.”

 

He
re-doubles his efforts. He can’t go any harder, any faster.

 

He
was nearly there now. He was ready. He settled back to enjoy the
finish. He was so absorbed that the voice didn’t register till the
second call.

 

“What
are you doing Dad?”

 

He
turned to see his daughter’s face, her chin resting on the side of
the bed. Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God! He’d forgotten she was in
her “nest”. Shit, shit, shit! He thought quickly. Thank God the
room was in shadow, curtains still drawn. Thank God he hadn’t
pulled down the duvet as he usually did when he was wanking.

 

“Katie
darling! Good morning Munchkin! Did you have a good sleep? I was just
doing some exercises to keep me fit. I read about them in the paper.
You and Felix ought to get outside and get some exercise instead of
being on those ipads all day. I know, let’s all go to the park
today.”

 

 

 

It
was Martyn’s Saturday morning routine. While the kids were having
breakfast with Caroline he’d spend an hour in bed with The
Guardian. He might turn on Radio 4 or he might not, depending on his
mood. Eventually he’d decide he couldn’t squander any more of the
day and he’d get up. He’d brush his teeth, have a shave, then
turn up the radio to full volume so he could hear it in the shower.
Martyn was pretty sure he was a morning person and some of his best
ideas had come to him while in the shower. And it happened again, and
this one was a real beauty. He was just soaping his hair when it hit
him. He stood motionless for almost a minute to fully appreciate it’s
brilliance and simplicity, oblivious to the shampoo leaching into his
eyes. Yes, he thought, yes. It’s the perfect plan. It can’t go
wrong. It really is the answer to all my problems.