Warhol's Prophecy by Shaun Hutson

tray.
    ‘You told me to.’
    ‘And you always do what I tell you, don’t you?’
    He fumbled with one of his buttons and she slid off the bed and crossed to him, trying to help.
    ‘I can manage,’ he told her, and she smelled the drink on him.
    ‘Are you drunk?’ she said, a thin smile touching her lips.
    ‘Not drunk enough.’
    She stood close to him, looking into his eyes, searching for some sign of reciprocated longing there.
    He could feel the warmth of her body, smell her delicate scent. His breathing grew heavier.
    ‘You said you came here to talk,’ he said finally. ‘So talk.’
    ‘What happened between us . . .’ she began.
    ‘Is over,’ he reminded her, interrupting.
    ‘Because you want it to be?’
    ‘Because it has to be.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Oh, come on, Sandy, don’t start that shit all over again. You know why. I’m married. I’ve got a kid.’
    ‘You were already married with a kid when we started seeing each other.’
    ‘All right, it’s over because it has to be over – because we got caught. Got it? You knew the rules when we started.’
    ‘Whose rules? Yours?’
    ‘No. The rules. I never told you my wife didn’t understand me. I never said I wasn’t happy at home.’
    ‘Then why did you want to screw me?’
    ‘Because you’re very good-looking. Because I fancied you. Because I’m a fucking man. Because I could. What do you want to hear?’
    ‘I knew you’d never leave Hailey. I didn’t want you to. And I played by your rules, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still get hurt. It doesn’t mean I can’t still miss you. Don’t hate me for it, Rob.’
    ‘I don’t hate you,’ he said, his tone softening.
    Again she took a step towards him, holding one of his hands, draping it around her shoulder and pushing herself against him.
    She leant forward and allowed her lips to brush against his, lightly at first but then more urgently. He responded, his tongue snaking into the warm wetness of her mouth. They remained locked together like that for what seemed an eternity.
    She gripped his right hand, gently stroked his index finger and guided it between her legs. When she withdrew it a second later it was glistening. She pushed it towards his mouth and smeared the transparent moistness across his bottom lip – then pushed it into his mouth, letting him taste her.
    They were both breathing heavily now.
    Rob kissed her even more passionately, then pushed her back onto the bed, climbing alongside her, feeling her hands scrabbling at his trousers. Expertly she undid them and tugged them free, smiling as she saw his erection straining against his underpants.
    She eased them over his hips. Over his bulging manhood. Then she lowered her mouth to his stiffness and enveloped its swollen tip.
    He grunted as he felt her free hand massage his shaft, her tongue still playing over his glans.
    Sandy stood up on the bed and pulled off first her T-shirt, then her panties, which she dropped onto his chest.
    For long seconds she stood there, allowing him to look up at her body, at her plump vaginal lips and the dewy moisture on her downy pubic hair. Then she sank down and straddled him, guiding his erection towards her moist warmth. She teased the tip around the hardened bud of her clitoris, closing her own eyes as the pleasure intensified. Then she moved forward slightly, allowing him to penetrate her. Wanting to feel his stiffness inside her.
    With a deep sigh of delight, she began to ride his erection, shuddering as she felt his hands cupping her breasts, thumbing the nipples that already stuck out stiffly from the puckered flesh around them.
    She looked down at him: his eyes screwed tight, his face contorted with pleasure.
    Sandy was smiling even before the first unmistakable feelings of orgasm began to spread gloriously from her pelvis and belly, and up through her body.
    She continued her rhythmic movements, aware that Rob too was close to his climax, enjoying the increased pressure of his