Sliding Sideways - Sex Stories

Sliding Sideways

... time I was in a car crash, lost consciousness with blood all over me and the next thing I knew I woke up in a comfy bed with no bruises or anything. That really shook me. Had I just died or something?” The two of them sighed. Quentin looked around him at the other people in the bar. He wasn’t even sure that the barmaid wore the same green blouse when he’d entered the pub. And when had he acquired that strange scar just above his thumb? There was so much about the lives of the Quentins whose bodies he’d drifted through he knew nothing about. And Vivienne, didn’t she have slightly different coloured lipstick when he’d started talking to her? Life was so confusing. It might be wonderful, but it was sometimes such an effort to relax when each day brought new surprises and new revelations. He just hoped he’d never again have a repetition of that month in gaol for manslaughter. Or the weeks shooting up heroin in that derelict house in Manchester. Or that day when he was in hospital in traction with his face ripped apart by shards of glass. Life could also be intolerably hard. “Do you want to come back to my apartment? It’s gorgeous. It faces onto the river and there’s a lovely view from the window.” “Beats Hounslow that’s for sure,” agreed Vivienne. “Yeah! Why not? Fuck it! Tomorrow I’ll probably wake up in Timbuktu.” Quentin laughed, but remembered only too well those weeks when he found himself working as an aid worker in the Sudan. It was difficult to be as irresponsible as ...

... he’d like to be with so many people relying on him, but impossible for him to fulfil the medical duties that the Quentin whose body he inhabited might be expert at, but about which he knew not the first thing. When Quentin opened the door to his apartment, with Vivienne giggling behind him, he felt an anxiety he never normally felt before he took a woman back home with him. It wasn’t just the anxiety that he’d find a wife or girlfriend that he’d never known before waiting impatiently for him. Nor was it the fear that this encounter might not resolve itself in the physical way he preferred. Vivienne’s passionate kiss underneath the shelter of the nearby Sainsbury Metro had made clear to him that her intentions were precisely the same as his. He had, at last, after all these years, met someone who could be his real soulmate. Someone, at last, who could truly understand his deepest anxieties and concerns. Someone with whom, already, he would like to spend the rest of his days. He stretched his palms out to press against Vivienne’s bared breasts with tension he could see tingling like electricity through her body. The disrobing had been easy. The next stage of actually embracing her naked body against his was much more fraught. Would she suddenly vanish as his hands made contact on a bosom still firm and pert? Would she suddenly mutate, as had happened before, into someone wholly different from the one he’d accompanied through the Docklands streets: his arm around her waist and his ...