The Three Halves of Martyn Manning: Chapter Seven - Karen - Part One

He
was settling into a routine now. Once the kids were in bed and
Caroline was in her room, he’d sit down at the kitchen table and
browse the dating site, and there were certain keywords that Martyn
looked for in the online profiles. Unfortunately for Martyn, the
terms “degree-educated”, “professionally qualified” and
“accomplished” seemed few and far between, at least on profiles
which showed a shred of humanity or humour. Karen wasn’t
degree-educated, professionally qualified or accomplished, or if she
was she didn’t say, but she was pretty with shoulder length black
hair and a nice smile, and she was only fifteen miles away. She had a
couple of young kids but that’s to be expected, and she looked like
she might be a little overweight, but what’s wrong with feminine
curves? He was prone to lowering his standards after a couple of
whiskies. It was three weeks now since his date with Lisa. He was
horny and bored and Lisa had shown him how easy and available casual
sex could be. He sent Karen a kiss, and a couple of minutes later he
got one back. Game on!

 

They
arranged a lunchtime date for the next day. He’d never heard of
Walton Lake but he pulled into the empty car park at five to one.
Best to be early. At five past one a shabby black Citroen pulled up
beside him. A tatty sticker on the rear passenger window showed a
stylised fairy and the words “Powered by Pixie Dust”. They got
out of their cars.

 

“Hi!
Martyn?”

 

“Certainly
am! And you must be Karen?”

 

She
leaned forward and offered her cheek for him to peck.

 

“Nice
to meet you. Mmmm…. I like a man in a suit. Come on, let’s walk
around the lake, there’s a path over there. You can hold my hand if
you want.”

 

He
was pleased to see her profile picture had not been falsely
flattering and that she was indeed quite pretty. But she was wearing
a bright red raincoat to ward off the chill, fully buttoned and
tightly belted, and this made it difficult to assess whether she was
indeed over-weight or just solidly built in the right proportions.
They set off round the lake, hand-in-hand. The cold weather was
keeping other potential walkers away and they had the place to
themselves. Karen did most of the initial chatting.

 

“….and
we never had sex, he was always telling me he didn’t fancy me
because I was too fat. But I was only comfort eating because he made
me feel insecure. He just made me give him blow-jobs all the time,
but I did get very good at blow-jobs. I’m a very tactile person.
And he was an alcoholic, he was always having those night-sweats and
I had to sleep in sopping wet sheets while he snored like a pig all
night. Then one night he didn’t come home and I found him down the
pub snogging some bottle blond slapper who was as pissed as he was.
So in the end I chucked him out. He didn’t complain. I think he’s
shacked up with her in Swindon now. Good riddance if you ask me, and
good luck to them as long as he pays his money and sees the kids.”

 

“But
I don’t get it? Why would he call you fat? You’re not fat?”

 

“Well
I am a bit. I could do with losing a few pounds.”

 

“No.
You’ve just got feminine curves. Nothing wrong with that. Nobody
wants to shag a skeleton.”

 

She
looked pleased and they kept walking, until a few yards later when
she stopped and turned to him with a serious look on her face.

 

“Look
Martyn, I like you and this isn’t fair. I’ve got something I have
to tell you.”

 

“No
problem! I’m all ears.”

 

“Promise
you won’t be angry with me?”

 

“It
can’t be that bad. OK, fine, I promise I won’t be angry with
you.”

 

She
paused and looked at the ground, then in a firm voice:

 

“I
used to be a man.”

 

For
a few seconds Martyn was dumbstruck while the news sank in. His mind
was racing so fast he found it hard to capture any thoughts with
which to make sense. Did that explain all the blow jobs and the solid
build? He opened his mouth to speak but no words would come. Until
Karen burst out laughing.

 

“Your
face!”

 

The
relief flooded through him.

 

“So
you didn’t used to be a man? You were just winding me up? You’ve
always been a woman?”

 

She
was still laughing so much she could hardly get the words out.

 

“Of
course I have Silly! I’m sorry, I was only teasing.” Then in a
more serious voice, “I can assure you I’m all woman and always
have been. You never know I might get to prove it to you some time if
you’re lucky.”

 

OK,
so both pretty and a sense of fucking humour. He could live with
that, and the reference to possible future sex was tantalising.

 

She
calmed down and continued to do most of the talking till they arrived
back at the car park. Her kids, her house, her mother, her sister.
She occasionally asked him a question but the conversation quickly
defaulted back to her. He wondered if she was just babbling with
nervousness. At least Martyn didn’t have to do the hard work. As
they reached their cars she turned to face him.

 

“So
that was fun. Do you want to see me again?”

 

“Of
course I do. I really enjoyed myself. When are you free?”

 

“I
should be able to do something tonight if you haven’t got anything
else on?”

 

“Don’t
think so, that should be fine.”

“Good,
well let’s try for that then. I’ll need to make sure I can
arrange a babysitter but it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll call you
later to let you know.”

 

She
kissed him on the cheek and opened her car door.

 

“See
you later then with a bit of luck!”

 

“See
you tonight Karen!”

 

 

 

 

At
7.00pm he pulled up outside a modest terraced house in an inner city
suburb. She opened the door before he’d finished knocking. She was
wearing a crisp white linen shirt and blue denim jeans, that were
either new or freshly laundered and she looked smart. And she’d
made an effort with her make-up.

 

“Ready?

 

“I
just need five minutes. Come in and make yourself at home.”

 

“No
prob!”

 

He
stepped straight off the street and into the front living room, where
he stood waiting as Karen disappeared upstairs. A minute later she
was back.

 

“What
are you doing? Make yourself at home. Sit down. Get comfortable.”

 

He
went to sit on a low sofa where she joined him, laying her head
against his shoulder. There was something Martyn didn’t understand.

 

“So
where’s the babysitter and the kids?”

 

“The
kids are at my mum’s. And she said she’d get them to school in
the morning.”

 

She
lifted her head and turned to look at him, then in a theatrically
deep voice:

 

“So
we’ve got all night to do whatever we want.”

 

Now
Martyn was not good in situations like this. Her face was only three
inches from his, and she was snuggling her body against him. But was
this just social intimacy or was she inviting him to take things
further? In truth he was a little intimidated by her forwardness, and
they were supposed to be going out to eat. But if she was indeed
inviting him to take things further then it would be rude of him if
he spurned her offer. And she might even think there was something
wrong with him. He decided that on balance it was probably an
invitation. He moved towards her and they touched lips, then tongues.
He put his arm around her shoulder and moved his hand to her breast.
The kiss quickly became more passionate and he began to play his
fingertips over her nipple. He felt her rising, even under her robust
bra. He also felt the first tingle of arousal in his glans. But this
was wrong. He pulled away.

 

“Hang
on a minute! Look, this is really good and I’m really enjoying it,
but aren’t I supposed to woo you first, like take you out or
something?”

 

She
burst out laughing.

 

“You
certainly are Lover Boy! I’m just giving you a taster of what you
might get if you behave yourself and treat me right!” She put the
emphasis on “might”.

 

“OK!
Good! What are we doing then?”

 

“Let’s
go to The Railway. I like it in there. They do really good Pub Grub.
Are you hungry?”

 

So
they went to The Railway. But it was packed and the waitress said
there wouldn’t be a table for at least half an hour. So they went
to the Crown, which was also packed. So was The Red Lion. They stood
at the bar, ordered cocktails, and reviewed their situation. Martyn
spoke first.

 

“What
the hell’s going on? Why is everywhere rammed?”

 

“I
don’t know. I’ve never known it like this. There’s some sort of
festival on in town. It must be that but I’m surprised. What do you
want to do then?”

 

He
pondered for a moment and sipped his drink. He decided he’d try his
luck.

 

“We
could just go back to your place and fuck each other’s brains out.”

 

She
didn’t appear to react, and he thought he’d gone too far, so he
quickly changed the subject to films and books and TV. It had worked
with Lisa. As they chatted he drained his drink.

 

“These
cocktails don’t last long do they? Would you like another?”

 

“No,
I’m fine. I’ve still got a bit left and I didn’t really like it
actually. Too sweet.”

 

“What
shall we do then? We can’t get a table. Shall we get a take-away?”

 

“Nah.
I’m not really hungry now.” She paused. “Anyway, I thought we
were going to…you know…”

 

“No,
sorry, I don’t know. You thought we were going to what?” He was
confused.

 

She
looked around and lowered her voice.

 

“What
you said. Go back….”

 

“..
and fuck each other’s brains out?”

 

Women
eh?

 

 

 

Back
at the house Martyn went into the kitchen and poured two glasses of
wine. Karen went upstairs.

 

“I
just need to freshen up. Won’t be long.”

 

But
she was long. She still hadn’t come down by the time he’d
finished his drink. He went to the foot of the stairs and shouted up.

 

“Are
you OK Karen?”

 

“Yeah
fine! I’ll be down in a minute.”

 

He
finished pouring his second glass and leaned back against the kitchen
cabinets as she came though the door in a light blue silk dressing
gown that barely covered the tops of her thighs. She stood directly
in front of him.

 

“I’ll
have that wine now please.”

 

She
took a gulp.

 

“Thanks
for a lovely evening Martyn.”

 

“The
night is young my sweet.”

 

She
began to stroke his face.

 

“I
told you I’m a tactile person.”

 

He
pulled her towards him and as they kissed his hand moved under her
gown.

 

“You’re
not wearing any pants.”

 

“I’m
not wearing any anything.”

 

He
pushed her away and deliberately untied the belt of her gown, pulling
the folds apart. Underneath she was indeed completely naked. “Yes,”
he thought, “this is certainly an invitation.” Now unclothed he
could see she was both a little overweight and with a sturdy frame,
but the frame went someway to compensate for the weight and she
remained nicely proportioned. Her vagina looked freshly shaven.

 

“I’m
a tactile person too,” and he began to play with her breasts. “I
think we should go upstairs.”

 

“Maybe,
but only if you promise to fuck me senseless.”

 

“I’ll
see what I can do.”

 

 

 

When
he got to the bedroom he could see why she’d taken so long to come
down. As well as undressing and shaving she’d had to light the
scented candles dotted around the room and put on the soft music that
was playing. He presumed they were love songs. She was already in
bed, under the bedclothes, staring at him with doleful eyes, like a
puppy hoping for a scratch behind the ears and a chocolate drop. He
undressed and got into bed beside her, pulling up the duvet to make
her feel snug and safe. He drew her towards him and offered his thigh
which she gripped between hers, and they played footsie as they
kissed. Oh how Martyn loved naked footsie, it was his guaranteed
short cut to enhanced arousal and premium hardness. He moved down her
body and his mouth moved from breast to breast, sucking and biting,
as his fingers massaged her clit in a circular motion he’d learned
from porn films. He slipped in a finger. Oh man, she was soaking, he
had to try some of this. He threw back the duvet to get in position.

 

“No!
Don’t Martyn! Pull back the duvet. Please.” She sounded anxious.

 

“OK,
OK, no problem.” He pulled it back. “What’s up? I want to look
at you when I’m fucking you. You’re gorgeous.”

 

“No
I’m not, I’m fat, and I’m embarrassed. I don’t want you
looking at me. Either keep up the duvet or blow out the candles.”

 

“You
let me look at you downstairs?”

 

“Downstairs
I was stood up. Now I’m lying down. It’s different. Sorry.”

 

He
thought quickly. If he said he’d keep the duvet up he was sure he
could find a way to let it accidentally slip as they both became more
aroused, she’d never even notice.

 

“OK,
let’s keep the duvet up, it will be nice and warm.”

 

“And
another thing, I want you to wear a condom.”

 

“What?
Why? For fuck’s sake, I’ve been done, you won’t get pregnant.”

 

“I
don’t care, I’m not taking any chances. I don’t want any babies
or diseases. Put one on.”

 

“I
haven’t got any.” A straw clutching lie.

 

“I
have.” She reached for her bedside table. “Here.”

 

“Oh
Christ. Alright then.”

 

“You
don’t have to sound so disappointed.”

 

“Sorry.
I’m not. But at least put it on for me.” He always found it both
strange and thrilling that the sacrifice would prepare the knife for
the executioner.

 

She
tore open the packet and reached under the duvet where she grasped
his cock with one hand and fumbled his bell-end with the other.

 

“It
won’t unroll. I must have it on wrong. I can’t see what I’m
doing underneath this bloody duvet.”

 

“OK,
OK, no problem, here’s what we’ll do. You stay under the duvet,
I’ll get out and lie on top of the duvet, then you can reach down
and put it on.”

 

She
seemed happy with that. A minute later, back under the duvet and
suitably clad, he climbed between her legs and slid into her. Some of
the magic of the moment had been lost perhaps but now was the time to
make up for it. He was going to enjoy this.

 

Except
he didn’t. The lube on the condom which had so eased his entrance
now combined with Karen’s fluids to deny him any friction. The
latex of the condom, despite the much vaunted “ribs”, similarly
denied him any feeling. He tried all he knew. He changed his angle,
he changed his speed, he changed his aggression. By the end he was
pounding as hard and fast as he could and was sure she must object,
but still nothing worked. God he hated condoms. He’d bet the lube
included some sort of delay action. Well, there are good delays and
bad delays. He took a breather.

 

“Sorry
Karen, it’s just not gonna happen, not with this bloody thing on.”

 

He
was still inside her.

 

“Aw,
I was enjoying that…. I was getting there.”