‘Kinky little bitch, ain’t you?’
‘Yes, yes, I fucking well am,’ she panted. ‘Want to make something of it? Ow, ow, ow.’
The towel-lashing came to an end.
‘Learnt your lesson, have you? Gonna be a good girl?’
‘Yes, sir.’
General laughter.
‘That’ll be the day.’
‘My bum’s killing me now.’
‘It’ll be worse soon, once Charlie’s cock’s been up it.’
‘I want one in my cunt, now. I’m horny as fuck. Please, Ben.’
There were cheers and a shout of ‘Ride him, cowgirl!’
‘Ah, oh, that’s good, you’ve got such a good one, fills me right up, mmm.’
Adam screwed shut his eyes and uttered a voiceless howl.
As the grunts and moans grew louder and wilder, he took a tennis ball and threw it against the wall, letting the thump of it drown out some of the sounds of Evie’s pleasure.
But not all of it could be disguised. The men’s voices rang out as clear as anything.
‘That’s it, my son, give her one.’
‘Got one waiting for you when you finish with him, love.’
‘She’ll be 11 not out before the game’s finished.’
‘Bet that vicar wishes he could be in on this. Pervy sod, I reckon he is. What do you say, Evie?’
But Evie could contribute no more than inarticulate ohs and ahs to the conversation.
‘Does he spank your bum when you go to Bible study? Does he get you on your knees and give you a mouthful?’
‘Oh God, shut up, don’t talk about him,’ said Evie, finding her voice in extremis. ‘You’ll spoil my orgasm, you cunt.’
Adam sank to the floor and hid his head in his arms, hot tears springing into his eyes.
It was all so wrong. It could never, ever be right.
He kicked aside a net bag of footballs and slammed out of the cupboard, then he ran across the cricket pitch, faster than he had ever run in his life, all the way to Julia Shields’ flat.
She let him in without a word, turning to a cupboard and taking out a bottle of cognac and two glasses.
‘No, no,’ he said, putting up a hand, then using it to dash the remnants of tears from his eyes. ‘Not for me.’
‘Drink isn’t a demon all the time. Like most demons, actually. A lot of them look pretty attractive and act like good people for a large percentage of the time.’
She poured the brandy and handed a glass to Adam. It was clear from her face that she wasn’t going to brook any refusal, so he took it anyway and twisted the stem in his fingers, avoiding putting the rim to his lips.
‘That makes sense,’ he muttered.