Chapter 7: Carlisle III
"Half an hour before you're ready to eat, pop it into the oven at one hundred and eighty. See here, I've written it down for you."
Eddie waved a piece of notepaper in front of a bemused Peter and Carla before propping it up against the fruit bowl in the middle of the kitchen table.
"Then apple pie for afters, fifteen minutes to warm that through. Cream and custard are in the fridge."
Eddie looked around the kitchen, searching for an invisible something.
"Now, is there anything else? I've written my sister's number down for you."
"Eddie, I feel bad for running you out of your own home," Peter lamented.
"Nonsense. I offered, didn't I? You two young people don't want me under your feet. Besides, Joan has been on at me for months to go stay with her."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure," Eddie was emphatic. "Now, Peter, you know where the extra towels and blankets are?"
"Yes, I do."
"Good. Well then." Eddie stopped her fussing and turned to look at her lodger and his guest. "You two have a nice time, okay?"
"We will."
"Thanks Eddie," Carla smiled at the old woman with gratitude. Eddie briefly took hold of Carla's hand, squeezed it gently and smiled.
"I'll see you two tomorrow."
After much fussing, Eddie finally departed for her sister's house, leaving Carla and Peter on their own, an event in itself. At the hospital, there were always nurses and patients lurking around every corner, ready to interrupt an intimate moment, and the couple had never had more than a few minutes truly alone during any of Carla's periods of leave from the hospital.
Peter wasted no time in getting reacquainted with his love; he wrapped his arms around Carla and pulled her in for a hug. But Carla was distracted by thoughts of Eddie.
"Peter."
"Yes, love?"
"Did she leave because of me?"
Peter pulled away from Carla to properly look her in the eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"Eddie. Did she leave because I'm here?" Carla spoke softly as if in fear of being overheard. "Was it my fault?"
"Hey? No. No, no, oh, darling, no. Eddie went to visit her sister so we could have some time alone together. She was doing a nice thing."
"Why?"
"Because she likes you. And she wants you to feel comfortable."
"Oh," Carla wasn't convinced; her paranoia, although under control for the most part, was ever present, lurking right beneath the surface, especially in unfamiliar territory. And her first night away from hospital since that day… that day on the fire escape… well, that was very unfamiliar for Carla.
"Hmm mmm…" Peter murmured in soothing tones as he placed his hands around Carla's waist and gently rocked her from side to side. "She made you a shepherd's pie, remember. She wouldn't do that if she didn't care."
"And an apple pie, don't forget." Carla quipped. "I must be extra special."
"You are, my love. You are."
Peter kissed Carla softly on the lips. Since her breakdown, he had been careful not to push Carla further than she was ready to go, especially when it came to physical intimacy. But, as he began to pull away, Carla reached her hands around the back of his head and, pulling him closer to her, kissed him passionately. What else could he do but respond?
He pulled her in close to his body; his lips parted and his tongue flickered along the seam of her lips. As her lips parted in turn, his tongue darted inside her mouth and wrestled playfully with her tongue; one hand ran up her back and raked through her hair while the other hand moved downward to grip and gently squeeze one of her arse cheeks.
Carla pulled on the hem of Peter's t-shirt and, slipping her hands underneath the fabric, glided her fingers sensuously up Peter's back; she let her nails dig into his skin as they ran back down to his hips.
"Mmm... that was nice," as the kiss settled down into a cosy hug, Carla's cheek resting on Peter's shoulder.
"More than nice."
"Do you want some jam and cream?"
"Mmm, yes please."
Carla handed over her plate on which she'd laid one of Eddie's scones, freshly baked that morning, to Peter, who smothered it with lashings of home-made plum jam and whipped cream, before handing it back.
"Thanks babe."
"The fruit for the jam came from this tree, you know."
Carla looked up at the plum tree that was showering dappled sunlight over the blanket Peter had spread on the grass in Eddie's back garden for them to laze away the afternoon on.
"She makes her own jam? She's like a character in a period drama, always making jams and cakes and stuff. She probably does her own sewing and all, doesn't she?"
"Oh, baby, you don't know the half of it."
After they'd demolished more scones than were good for them, nature took its course and the couple were soon napping, Peter on his back, his head resting on one of Eddie's living room cushions, with Carla's body stretched out perpendicular to his, her cheek resting on his tummy, so she could gaze up at his face.
It was in this position that Carla watched Peter as he dozed, studying every inch of his chest, his neck, his chin, his nose, those eyelids with their delicate eyelashes closed over dreamy brown eyes that she didn't have to see in order to visualise the way they looked at her; every last beautiful inch of him. Perhaps Peter sensed Carla watching him, perhaps the intensity with which her eyes hungrily devoured him, nudged him into wakefulness. Whatever it was, Carla was pleased; she had spent so much time alone in the hospital, now that she was out for her first overnight visit, she wanted to spend as much time with Peter, a conscious Peter, as she could.
"Come here."
Carla obediently shuffled her body a little higher, her cheek resting now on Peter's chest. She reached up and played with his ear, ran her fingers through his beard, poked him playfully on the cheek. Peter stroked Carla's hair; it was Peter's speciality, Carla loved the feel of his hand as it caressed her head, his fingers tangled in her hair, the smooth rhythmic motion soothing her very soul.
"I saw the doctor this morning."
"And?"
"She said, if this overnight visit goes well, I could be out in a week."
"Hey, that's great."
"Hmm…"
"How do you feel about it?"
"Honestly? I don't know. Thing is, I feel safe in the hospital. And I feel safe with you, like today, when I'm out on leave. But when I think about going; I was about to say home, but it doesn't feel like home any more. When I think about going back to Weatherfield, it feels like...like I'm walking a tightrope without a safety net."
"Oh, love. Have you told your doctor how you're feeling?"
"Yeah, of course."
"Babe, if you don't feel ready just tell her, okay? You know I'm not going anywhere, don't you? I'll wait for you, as long as it takes."
"I know." Outwardly, Carla tried to be positive about her recovery in front of Peter, but she sometimes wondered if she would ever be ready, if she could ever adjust back to her old life. She couldn't quite shake the fear that the old Carla, the Carla everyone expected her to be again, was lost forever.
Carla sat at the kitchen table, an unadulterated grin on her face, watching Peter as he darted from fridge to oven, cupboard to table, putting the final touches on the meal Eddie had prepared for them earlier.
She was enjoying this little slice of domesticity, just her and Peter. It had been five years since Carla and Peter had their own home together; a home they could do everyday things in. Eat their meals together, watch the telly, nap on the sofa, talk all night or sit in silence. Whatever they wanted. It was only now that she had a glimpse of what domestic life with Peter had been, could be again, that she realised how much she had missed the little things; the things that, on their own, didn't matter but, when you added them all together, formed a life, a life that didn't exist for one without the other.
"Hey, come here," Carla held out her hand to Peter, motioning him over.
As Peter stepped towards Carla, she reached up and, with her hands gently cupping Peter's cheeks, pulled him down for a quick yet sensuous kiss.
"Thank you."
"My pleasure. But it was Eddie who cooked it."
"I wasn't talking about the meal."
Peter smiled and gave Carla a quick peck on her forehead before turning to carry on with his dinner preparations. But Carla held onto him a moment longer.
"One more thing… I love you."
"I love you, too."
Carla draped the damp tea-towel over the oven door railing and looked around the kitchen, satisfied with a job well done.
"I think that's it."
Peter finished wiping down the countertop and turned to face Carla.
"So… what do you wanna do? Watch some telly? Snuggle on the sofa?"
"I'd like to go to bed."
"You tired, love?"
"No."
Peter ignored this blatant come on and lead the way out of the kitchen and towards the bedrooms.
"Eddie's made up the spare room bed, so it's up to you whether you sleep in there or, if you prefer my room, I'll take the spare."
Carla wrapped her arms around Peter and nuzzled into his neck.
"Baby, I'm sleeping wherever you're sleeping."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?"
Carla raked her fingers through Peter's hair.
"Well, you're still in a very vulnerable state."
"I'm not."
She kissed him softly on the lips.
"And besides…"
Peter focused Carla's attention on the furnishings of his bedroom, in particular, the single bed, covered with what Carla assumed was a hand-crocheted multi-coloured bedspread.
"Single bed."
"Even better, we can cuddle up nice and close."
Carla ran her hands down Peter's back and, cupping his arse cheeks in her hands, she pulled his groin into her body.
"Are you really gonna make me beg?"
She reached her hand around the front of his jeans and felt the hardness of his erection through the fabric.
"Then again, if you don't want to…?"
"Of course I want to, I just…" Peter's breathing was laboured as Carla rubbed her hand over the front of his jeans.
"And it has been awhile."
"That's true."
Carla slipped her hand down Peter's jeans and wrapped her fingers around Peter's hard cock.
"Oh god."
"So then?"
"Baby, that feels so good, but, please stop, just stop for a minute."
Carla pulled her hand out of Peter's jeans and looked at him.
"I don't want to take advantage of you while you're not well."
"Peter, I'm well enough to know what I want. And I want you."
Carla kissed him, sucking gently on his lower lip before sliding her tongue inside his mouth, running her tongue along his, around his, as his tongue entered her mouth.
Carla reached her hands underneath Peter's t-shirt and tugged on the fabric; their lips parted long enough for Carla to pull the garment over his head and toss it to the floor.
As Carla's lips sought out Peter's once again, she fumbled first with his belt buckle and then his jeans button and zip. Not wanting their lips to part for even a second, Carla pushed Peter's jeans and boxers over his arse cheeks and down his thighs. Peter finished the job, kicking off the jeans and the boxers until he was stood naked in front of Carla, her hands roaming freely over his body, the pressure of his erection against her stomach.
As Peter stepped forward, Carla stepped back against the edge of the bed. Half lifting, half lowering her, Peter lay Carla gently onto the bed, never stopping for one second his wet, hungry kisses, his tongue in and out of her mouth, nibbling on her lips, sucking gently on her neck.
Peter stood by the bed; Carla gazed up at him, her eyes travelled down his body and came to linger on his cock, hard and erect. It was all Carla could do to stop herself from dragging him down on top of her and inside her; she ached to feel him deep inside her again.
Peter unfastened Carla's jeans button and zip and tugged gently at them. Carla raised her hips off the bed as Peter pulled her jeans over her arse and down her thighs, her calves, her ankles, pausing as he went to place soft kisses on her tummy, her upper thigh, down her legs, interspersing his kisses with little licks and sucks.
Her jeans and lacy knickers tossed onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor, Peter turned his attention to Carla's top. As he slowly pushed the fabric up her body and over her breasts, he placed yet more kisses on her soft, warm skin. As he worked his way higher, Carla instinctively wrapped her legs around Peter's waist and drew his body close to hers, so that his cock was pressed against the hot wetness of her pussy.
Peter quickly removed and discarded Carla's top while slowly grinding his hips against hers, gliding his cock over the opening of her vagina, up over her clit, throbbing with excitement, and back again. Up and down, up and down, once or twice letting the tip of his cock slip ever so slightly into her vagina before continuing on to stimulate her bud.
He reached for the lace of Carla's bra that cupped her breasts and, slipping a finger beneath the fabric, pulled it down to expose Carla's breasts. He kissed each breast, taking each nipple into his mouth in turn, his tongue circling the nipple, hard and erect under his touch, gently sucking and biting on them.
After removing Carla's bra, Peter took her breasts in his hands, lighty massaging the soft mounds as his thumbs played with her nipples, while he reached up to kiss Carla softly on the lips, his tongue sensuously grazing her lips, darting into her mouth, around her tongue.
As Peter's body stretched out over hers, his cock naturally came to rest just inside Carla's vagina; he moved his hips in a circular motion as still only the tip of his cock penetrated her. But, despite Carla's moans letting Peter know that she wanted him to thrust deep into her, he wasn't ready to enter her fully; not yet.
Pulling his cock out and away from her, he now knelt back on the bed, gazing down at her pussy that, with her legs spread wide, was inviting him in. He reached out and, inserting a finger into her vagina, spread her own juices over her clit, rubbed it in, over and around the throbbing bud.
He leaned his face into her, his tongue flickered over her clit, as his fingers slipped into her vagina. In and out his fingers thrust as his tongue rhythmically worked her clit. He bent his fingers and pressed against the walls of her vagina, causing Carla to cry out in ecstasy.
Removing his fingers from her pussy, he quickly replaced them with his tongue, pressing his face into her folds, burying his tongue deep inside her. Licking out her pussy, he now added the extra lubrication to his tongue's assault on her clit; in the wetness, his tongue pressed against her bud, licked over it and around it, finding that sweet spot and building the pressure, building the speed, relentlessly stimulating that spot that Carla's increasingly loud and guttural moans told him was the spot that would make her come.
She reached down and, grabbing the back of his head, pressed his face into her; his tongue worked furiously on her clit, his fingers again buried deep inside her vagina, in and out, in and around, as Carla clenched her muscles around his hand until he felt them spasm in uncontrolled waves and hot liquid from within her drenched his fingers.
Removing his hand from inside her, he rubbed her throbbing clit as he moved up over her body to kiss her deeply, her wetness was on his face, on her face, in her mouth, his tongue around her tongue; all the while his fingers never stopped their work on her clit.
Peter gently pulled Carla up into a sitting position facing him. She draped her legs over his hips while his legs were outstretched either side of Carla's body. She felt his hard cock pressing against her pussy as they moved together for a passionate kiss. He moved one hand around her body to gently stroke her back, while the other hand cupped one of her breasts. He ground his hips against hers, his erection gliding against her wetness.
Carla reached down and, taking his throbbing cock gently in her hands, guided him inside her. She manoeuvred her hips so that she could take him in deep. Working in unison, they each moved their hips in time with the other. As one pulled back, so did the other; as one thrust forward, the other thrust forward at the same time. Each time Peter's cock slid deep inside Carla, she clenched her pelvic floor muscles tightly around his cock; rhythmically clenching and unclenching as he moved in and out of her.
As their movements became faster, harder, more frenetic, ever closer to that climactic pinnacle of orgasm, the desire to go deeper reached fever pitch.
Peter rose up onto his knees, lifting Carla with him. As she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, he supported her with his arms wrapped around her waist. Using her grip on his waist as leverage, Carla rose her hips into the air and then down onto Peter's cock; up and down, while Peter thrust upwards to meet her.
Carla bent her head down to kiss Peter on the lips, her hair tumbling down over them both. Peter moved his grip to beneath Carla's arse cheeks, pulling her hips towards his each time he thrust his cock up into her, their chests pressed together in an amalgam of sweat and flesh.
"I'm coming!"
Peter intensified his thrusting as Carla clenched and unclenched with greater vigour and speed.
"Oh, god!"
As they orgasmed together, Carla's walls spasmed around Peter's cock as his hot sticky cum shot out of him and deep inside her vagina.
Peter collapsed backwards onto the bed, panting with his exertions, Carla on top of him, her arms reaching around him as her cheek came to rest on his chest.
He held onto her as he rolled over, letting his sated cock slide out of her pussy, along with a dribble of his cum. Pressing his body into her back as they both lay on their sides, Peter wrapped his arm around Carla's chest and gently played with her nipples as he kissed the nape of her neck. His leg he draped over Carla's lower body; he wanted to stay close to her, skin-on-skin, his sweat intermingling with hers.
"See, didn't I tell you a single bed would be good for cuddling."
"Right as always, my love."
"I wonder what Eddie would think about what we just did on her blanket?"
They both laughed, an intoxicating sound of his deep tones combined with her high dirty giggle. A sound that hadn't been heard for a long time; but one they both hoped would continue to be heard often and for a long time to come.
