Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Chapter 12

   Simon thought that kissing Caroline was more than amazing.  It was
overwhelming.  Once more the cabbie had to remind them of where they were,
and they separated with guilty grins.  Simon paid the fare and turned to
Caroline, kissing her again.  He groped in his pocket for his key, panic
hitting him for a moment before he found it.  He opened the door and let
her in, gesturing with a finger against his lips that she should be quiet.

   They crept up the stairs and into his room.  Once inside, Simon took her
coat and removed his jacket and tie, hanging them temporarily on the door
of his wardrobe.  He led Caroline to his bed, and they sat on it's edge for
a while, making out quite seriously, yet still fully clothed.

   Abruptly a thought crossed Simon's mind, and he forced himself to pull
away.  He forced his voice to work.  "I'm - I'm s-sorry!" he stammered.

   "What on earth for?" Caroline asked, surprised.

   "I'm doing what you said they all did.  Your other boyfriends," he
explained.

   Caroline's eyes went soft.  Her voice was soft, gentle, too, "No, Simon.
They expected.  I had to suggest it to you.  No, you're not like them.  Not
at all," she finished as she lunged at him, capturing his face with a hand
on either side and kissing him silly.  Bemused, amused, he gave in and
kissed her back.

   Simon felt his erection hard, insistent, poking against the inside of
his jeans above his underwear.  He'd already found Caroline's nipples,
hard, popped up like buttons.  'Just like Marianne's' he thought
fleetingly, then all thought was erased as Caroline rubbed her hand against
his groin.

   He slipped a hand under her blouse, revelling in the feel of skin
against his palm.  He reminded himself that he wanted to go slowly, to give
Caroline the chance to set limits.  But Caroline didn't seem to want to set
any limits; she attacked his belt, one handed, awkwardly because of their
positions side-by-side on the bed.  Simon took his hand away from her to
help with the belt but she moaned, "No, let me.  Please, keep touching me,"
and he did as he was asked, sliding his hand so that he could caress the
sensitive skin around her navel with his thumb.

   Still their lips pressed, tongues played with each other.  Finally Simon
moved a little, easing the angle for Caroline to undo his belt while he, in
turn, nuzzled the side of her throat, gently nibbling with lip-covered
teeth, licking the slightly salty flesh.  With a cry of victory Caroline
celebrated her success in opening his belt, she swiftly undid the snap of
his trousers and snaked a hand inside to find the hard maleness inside.

   Simon's thoughts were chaotic, confused, fleeting things.  This felt
nice, felt wonderful, mustn't push things, let her dictate the pace.  He
huffed when she gripped him, sliding his own hand up her body and under her
bra to caress and mould the underside of her breast in his hand.  She, in
turn, mewled like a cat when he found her nipple, finger and thumb touching
it directly for the first time, then sliding the palm over its hard, bumpy
surface.

   Simon kept one hand on her breast while sliding the other under the
blouse on the small of her back, caressing her spine as he lifted it slowly
upwards.  He found the bra strap and undid the catch left handed, with a
dexterity that surprised even him.  Caroline was making small sounds,
almost short moans, before she removed her hand from his penis and began
undoing the buttons on his shirt.  He let her, shifting his hands to caress
the flesh at her sides from the bottom of her ribs to her hips, giving her
space to complete her task.

   He briefly took time to remove his cufflinks before allowing Caroline to
lift his shirt free.  She dropped the shirt to the floor and ran her hands
over his chest for a moment, feeling the muscle under the skin.  Simon
would never have the figure of a bodybuilder, but he was in good shape. 
Caroline drank in the sight, the feel of his sparsely haired upper body,
following the thin, pale line of hair that went from just beneath his
navel, heading south?

   "Turnabout is fair play," he murmured, and reached for the thin fabric
of her blouse.  There was the slightest hint of a shake in his hands as he
undid each button before peeling back the garment.  Caroline lifted her
arms and Simon took it off her, dropping it beside his shirt.  Her bra, the
catch undone, slid down, revealing her breasts.  They were achingly
familiar to him and yet seen for the first time as Caroline stood, dropping
the bra to the floor on top of her blouse and reaching for the fastening of
her trousers.

   "Now, Simon.  Now."

   He understood her intent, and quickly divested himself of the remainder
of his clothes.  She was as quickly naked as he.  Then she took him in her
arms, and he wrapped himself around her.  Their kiss was soft, yet fervent;
he felt her touching him, physically and even more, emotionally.  She
whispered to him, "Let me show you another type of dancing I'm good at,
Simon?"

   She did.  She disparaged her sister, often and loudly, but she'd learned
a lot from her, and then applied her own skills and creativity.  As with
dancing on her feet, Caroline proved that she was a mistress of horizontal
dancing, too.

   Yet Simon found an appealing something in her behaviour as well. 
Caroline wasn't innocent, by no means, but she wasn't tired, either.  When
he first entered her heated, well-lubricated sheath she gasped, "Oh!" and
hugged him.  Simon stopped, afraid for a moment that he'd hurt her, but
Caroline smiled and pulled him in deeper.  There was a look almost of
wonder on her face as he began to move within her, slowly pumping, and she
moved in concert with him.  They swiftly achieved a balance and rhythm and
began stoking their fires.

   Simon's self-control had vastly improved since his first encounter with
Marianne.  It was just as well, Caroline hadn't thought to have him come
before he entered her, and now?  now she had him on a knife edge quickly.
He buried himself in her, holding still, but Caroline continued to move,
grinding her clit against him with a movement of her pelvis.  "Don't worry,
Simon," she told him, "don't hold back.  There'll be more than one chance
tonight."

   Simon refused to give in without trying to bring her to climax though.
He fought to hold his own eruption back, but it was no use.  Caroline's
control of her inner muscles was good, and she virtually milked him,
forcing him to climax.  He gasped, then with a loud, almost despairing
groan he came, forcing himself as deeply inside Caroline as he could, eyes
shut tight.  When he opened them again Caroline was looking at him
tenderly, stroking his face.

   "Thank you, Simon.  Thank you."

   He kissed her, softly.  "Thank you," he told her.  She put a finger
against his lips.

   "You have no idea how long I've wanted that, Simon.  Ever since I first
kissed you beside the ambulance after the fire.  I've wanted you, needed
you."

   There were things unspoken between them, things that would have to be
explored later, but for now Simon was content to stay, his weight held on
his arms, still hard and inside the beautiful brunette under him.

   Later, Caroline proved to be almost as adept as her sister in giving
oral pleasure.  She got him hard in nothing flat, then brought him to the
brink of climax and kept him there, loving his penis, bringing mewls from
him before finally taking the tip into her mouth and sucking, stroking him
to another wonderful climax.

   Later still, Simon returned the oral favour.  He'd been enthusiastic
about giving head before, but Marianne had, by careful verbal and
non-verbal feedback, shown him more about how to please a woman that way.
Caroline came, and came again as he stroked her with tongue and lips and
fingers.

   Afterwards, they lay on his bed side by side, fingers of one hand
entwined, staring up at the ceiling.

   "I think we're compatible," Caroline proposed, dreamily.

   "Mmmm.  Me too," Simon agreed.

   Tonight, he'd decided to stop thinking.  He knew he would go over things
in his mind sometime, but not now.  Not with Caroline a warm, sated,
wonderful person lying next to him.  He didn't want to break the spell,
didn't want to think of anything, he just wanted to exist in this moment.
Caroline rolled towards him, cuddling into him, and he felt her nipples
spring into life once more as they grazed across his chest.

   She idly played with his chest hair again.  She seemed to like it.

   "What's your Mum going to think, Caroline?" he asked her.

   "The truth.  She'll think I stayed over with you, of course.  I'll ring
her in the morning, let her know I'm all right - if that's okay with you."

   "Sure.  Well, it's Mum & Dad's phone bill really, but - sure."

   They fell asleep like that, her cuddled into him, he lying on his back,
softly snoring.

   - - - - - - - - -

   Two days later, Simon was having serious second thoughts.

   They'd been on another date, which had once again ended in his bed.  The
sex was great, and they connected better than even he and Marianne had. 
But?

   Caroline had grabbed him out of the ashes of his relationship with her
sister before they were cold.  Marianne had picked him up, enjoyed him and
left him before he knew what was happening.  Her Aunt had basically used
him.  Who knew what would happen next with that family?

   In addition he was disgusted with himself.  He now considered it a
betrayal of Marianne when he thought of his night with Allison, even with
the nod and wink he'd received from his girlfriend.  Honest, loyal people
didn't do that, and Simon had been brought up to be both of those things.

   Also, a little drink was one thing, but Simon had smoked what he'd been
offered and knew in his heart that he'd have given in on the cocaine as
well?

   He tried rationalising that he was under duress; the temptation was
something most people would have given into.  (It wouldn't have done any
harm, surely?) Like Allison.  Like Caroline.  He even blamed himself for
not speaking out when Jennifer had blown him, he could have, should have
made sure it was Marianne, shouldn't he?

   Round and round and round his thoughts went.

   His leave from the Service was up, he was due back on-shift that night.
It was the one sure, certain thing in his life now, the one thing that he
knew he wouldn't betray and that would look after him.  Simon made his
decision.

   He telephoned Caroline before leaving the house.

   Caroline was plainly delighted to hear from him.  "Hello Simon!" she
replied when her Mother passed her the phone.

   "Hi Caroline.  Look, can you meet me tomorrow?"

   "What time?"

   "How about we go for some lunch?" he asked.

   "Okay!" came her bright reply, "I look forward to it!"

   "I'll see you, then, Caroline," she said, before placing the receiver on
its rest.  He had a heavy heart, but he was convinced he'd made the right
decision.

   - - - - - - - - -

   Simon jumped off the bus and turned, looking for Caroline.  Suddenly he
was hit from behind, arms wrapped around him and he heard a voice gaily
call, "Gotcha!"

   Despite himself, he grinned.  Turning, he saw Caroline in a T-shirt and
scandalously tight hot-pants.  She kissed him, he found himself kissing her
back.  He pulled away, steeling himself.

   "Let's go grab a bite to eat and a drink.  The 'Anchor' does good pub
grub," he suggested, and Caroline willingly went along with him.

   The pub was almost opposite the bus stop, and in no time they'd ordered
drinks and food.  Caroline hung on his arm as they made their way to one of
the tables.

   Once seated, Simon took a deep breath, and collected his thoughts.

   ""I've been thinking, Caroline," he started.

   "Oh-oh," she giggled, "sounds heavy."

   "Actually, it is," he answered.  Her smile vanished as if a fuse had
blown.  "I think we've gone a bit far, a bit fast."

   "Huh?"

   He leaned forward, trying to convey how sincere and thoughtful he was
being.

   "Caroline, Marianne broke up with me.  That hurt.  We had a date the
next day, and slept together the same night.  Then we did it again the
night before last.  It's too soon for me.  I haven't had a chance to
process things yet."

   "You don't want to sleep with me, is that it?  If you want to slow
things down, we can do that - though if you ask me, the genie's out of the
bottle now."

   "No, not that.  Well, yes, that, but not just that." He held his head.
"I'm messing this up."

   "You're breaking up with me."

   Caroline's voice, while still hers, was slow, lifeless, doom laden.

   He reached for her, but she drew back, not willing to let him touch her.
Her face was contorted; her tears were only seconds away.

   "I think we ought to go back a step or two, that's all.  I think we
started dating too quickly.  I'm not ready, not yet."

   He could see Caroline struggling to maintain her decorum and her
dignity, but he could also see that it was held by a narrow thread.

   "You're a sweet girl, Caroline?"

   "But this is the 'let her down gently' speech, isn't it?" she
interrupted.  "Christ, in a moment you'll tell me you think we should just
be friends.  Talk about cliché."

   Simon couldn't hold her gaze, he looked away and muttered, "I'm sorry."

   "Why?" she snarled at him.  "Had enough of me already?  Not as good as
Marianne?"

   He sat up again and regained eye contact.  "Oh, no, Caroline, it's not
like that!  I think you're better than Marianne!  I think you're amazing!"

   "But??" The single word question was cocked and loaded, a shotgun blast
waiting to go off.

   He slumped.  "But I'm trying to let you down gently, as you say.  I'm
not ready for this, Caroline."

   Then he jumped back upright in his seat when Caroline slammed her hand
down on the table between them.

   "Well then, it's over!" she shouted, leaping to her feet, her chair
falling over behind her.  The pub, full of lunchtime customers, now all had
their eyes on the couple.  "Had what you want, didn't you.  'Had both of
the twins', didn't you?" she cried in a sing-song voice, shaking her head
in time with the words.  "Well Fuck you, Simon Cook!" She stormed off, head
high but tears now falling, leaving Simon sitting in the wreckage.

   Eventually he pulled himself together and stood.

   "Sorry about that," he announced to the pub in general, to poorly
muffled sniggers.  He felt it was what he deserved.  He paid for the
uneaten meal and the drinks and left, depressed, upset and not a little
angry.

   He arrived home and his mother immediately saw that something was up.

   "Simon?"

   "Nothing, Mum.  I'll see you later," was his answer, from halfway up the
stairs.  He shut the door and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.  He
was due on-watch at seven that evening.  He had several hours to brood.

   Not long afterwards though he was interrupted.  He answered the knock on
the door with an annoyed "Yes, what?"

   "I've brought you up some tea, Simon," his mother called from outside.

   Simon pulled himself together, sitting up on the bed, swinging his legs
down to the side.  "Oh, sorry Mum.  Thanks!"

   The door opened and his mother laid the cup and saucer on his bedside
table.  She sat on the bed next to him.

   "Want to talk about it, Simon," she enquired, gently.  "It helps, you
know."

   "Not really."

   "Okay, then.  I'm here if you change your mind," she told him with a sad
smile.  She stood and was smoothing her skirt when Simon changed his mind.

   "I broke up with Caroline."

   "But?  but you only just started going out with her, Simon!" his mother
exclaimed, sitting back down.

   "Yeah, I know.  It didn't go well."

   "Oh, Simon.  She was really pretty, and obviously doted on you.  And so
soon after breaking up with her sister, too.  Why?"

   "That's what she asked," he told his mother in a dull monotone.  "I told
her it was too soon, but the truth is I don't think I can trust her, or her
family or myself when I'm near them.  I did some stupid things while I was
at Knebworth, and I nearly did something even worse.  I'm not like that,
Mum, I'm honest, decent, hardworking.  I don't have sex with people just
for the fun of it, I don't take drugs and I don't cheat on people."

   "Simon," his mother pointed out gently, "actually you used to swap from
one girl to the next, almost week-by-week, before Marianne.  Surely you're
not trying to tell me you didn't have sex with some of those girls?"

   He blushed.  He still wasn't used to his mother talking about sex with
him.

   "Okay, yes, so I did.  But I haven't after that."

   "So you and Marianne, and then you and Caroline?"

   He didn't answer.

   "They meant something to you?  Marianne meant something to you, didn't
she, Simon?" his mother asked, softly but insistently.

   "Yes," he answered, "Yes, she did.  She meant a lot to me, Mum, and I
threw it away."

   Slowly, Jackie Cook drew out of her son the story of that night.  With
subtle questions from her, he told her of the party after the festival, and
edited highlights of what had happened there.  He didn't try to hide his
own actions, his own faults, indeed he built them up.

   "I was just about to grab the cocaine when Caroline came into the room
with the band's singer," he told his mother.  "Caroline got me out of
there, and as we left I heard Shaun really ripping into Allison about the
stuff.  Then we bumped into Marianne.  With Chris.  Caroline says she got a
signal from her sister that she could take me, if she wanted, but I wasn't
up to much by that point.  Actually, all I wanted to do was crawl into a
hole."

   "That's understandable, Simon.  Honestly!  You know I don't hold with
drugs.  You youngsters?  but Simon, you hadn't done anything wrong had you?
You can't be unfaithful if she tells you it's okay, and you didn't take the
cocaine.  We'll deal with the other stuff later though, young man," she
added warningly.

   He nodded.  "I know, Mum, I know.  I'm not proud of it.  But Marianne?
it felt like I'd betrayed her, Mum.  I don't care what she said, it felt
like I'd two-timed her.  I'm not like that."

   "But Simon, Marianne was with Chris.  It was even, this whatever-it-was
that you two had going."

   "I know, Mum.  It still doesn't make it feel right."

   "And then?"

   "Then, Marianne tells me that she wants to be with Chris, that she'll
always love me but that it's over between us, yadda yadda."

   "Caroline?"

   "Oh, Caroline's already latched onto me at that point.  She's had a
crush on me since I rescued her from the fire - the one at Ronnie's Caff,
remember that one?  - and now she persuades me to take her on a date, we
get physical on the first one, and after the second one, and I get cold
feet or something and call a halt.  Breaking her heart.  She caused a big
scene down at the 'Anchor'."

   Simon was a picture of misery.  His mother put one hand in front of her
mouth and laid the other on his shoulder.

   "I didn't mean to hurt her, Mum," he whispered, not trusting his voice.

   "I know, you wouldn't, Simon.  You're a fine young man, and your father
and I are immensely proud of you."

   "Even now, Mum?  Even now when I've told you what a cheating, drug
taking shit I am?"

   Jackie took his shoulders and shook him, firmly.  "That's not you, Simon
Cook!  In the first place, like I told you, I don't think you cheated.  In
the second place, giving in to temptation once with a little marijuana
isn't the end of the world.  Finally, you're not a 'little shit' and
haven't been since your early teenage years!" She took a breath and
continued more calmly, "Don't put yourself down, Simon.  You're not evil
incarnate, you're a young man and like all young men you sometimes make
mistakes."

   "Not like Mums, eh?" he asked with a reluctant smile.

   Jackie tossed her head back and laughed.  "No, we Mums are infallible!"

   He felt the spirit of this honest talk demanded that he come clean.

   "Mum?  That wasn't the first spliff I've smoked, actually."

   "Oh.  Well I'm not surprised, though I am disappointed.  Don't tell your
father, he really would fly off the handle."

   Simon shook his head.

   "You don't smoke that stuff on duty, do you?" she asked, alarmed at the
thought that had popped into her head.

   "God, no!" Simon spluttered.  Suddenly he laughed at the image of John
Tierney sharing a spliff with him while going into a burning building.  "I
can just see it now, 'Hey, man, look at all the pretty flames!'" he
mock-droned.  "No, Mum, I don't even drink too much if I'm going on-shift.
Dangerous, that."

   His mother shuddered.  "Thank God!  I suppose I should have known
better, but the thought just came to me.  Oohh!"

   "I can just see that at the equipment check, you know.  'Everyone got
their funny cigarettes?' It'd go down really well with the officers," he
smirked.

   His mother gave him a sharp look and was about to tell him that it
wasn't a joking matter, but stopped herself.  At least her son wasn't
moping any more.

   "I think I'll have a bath, Mum, get ready for tonight," he told her,
feeling considerably better.  "I'll talk to John about it, I expect he'll
drag me out tomorrow night and we can drown my sorrows for a bit, then he
or Patty can try to fix me up with some girl friend of theirs.  Back to
normal, I guess." He gave his mother an odd look, halfway between amused
and disgusted.  "Those two are worse than you for trying to marry me off."

   Jackie laughed and stood up.  "I'll leave you to it, then Simon."

   His mother was at the door when Simon called to her, "Mum?  Thanks."

   She turned in the doorway and gave him a smile full of motherly love. 
"You're welcome, son of mine.  It's what Mums are for!"
   - - - - - - - - -