BAD MAN RISING: The Henry Blythe novels, #3

By PAUL Adams

 Several Romantic Comedies....one with a kink

Henry Blythe, the early years.........

Not so much a life of 'wine, women and song', more accurately nearly a decade of 'sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll'.

Join Henry Blythe as he wends his merry, drunken way through college and out into the big wide world thereafter..... in his search for the perfect woman.

Will he find her? Does such a woman exist, for that matter? ..... and, if she does, will she really want someone like him?

And where exactly did Henry Blythe get his penchant for fine wine, Napoleon brandy ..... and handcuffs? 

Another bawdy romp in the Henry Blythe series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: PAUL Adams
• Release date: Oct 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9780992340742

Book preview

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Paul Adams was born and educated in Hampton, England.

He spent five years at Lancaster University trying to get a degree (English Literature, so he knows a bit about books, & Geography, so he can find his way to the library). With so many distractions (the sex, the drugs & the rock 'n' roll) it was a serious struggle, apparently.

After graduation, he was part of the 'alternative comedy' scene in London in the 1980's, before realising that maybe he should get a 'proper job'.

With twenty five years in the Civil Service (in London and Bristol) under his belt, he decided to 'get a life' and resigned to dedicate his time to writing fiction and designing gardens.

His first two novels - 'Time Was' and 'Blythe's Spirit' - were published in 2013.

This prequel, 'Bad Man Rising', is the third in the series.

At least one further novel in this series is planned. These will make up the Henry Blythe novels. There may well be more.

He will also, at some time in the future, branch out into crime fiction, which is where his professional background lies.

He now lives in Western Australia, where the beer is not as good but at least it doesn't rain as often.

Paul Adams can be found online at

http://www.pauladams-author.com/

INTRODUCTION

This is book three of the ‘Henry Blythe’ series of novels.

This is a stand-alone story and, as such, can be read without having read the previous two novels. However, certain ironies contained within this book may be lost on the reader, if they are not familiar with ‘Time Was’ and ‘Blythe’s Spirit’.

Henry Blythe series, Book 1 –

‘Time Was’ by Paul Adams, can be found at –

Amazon.com –

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BVKW9CA/

Amazon.co.uk –

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00BVKW9CA/

and other Amazon outlets.

Henry Blythe series, Book 2 –

‘Blythe’s Spirit’ by Paul Adams, can be found at –

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DSEDZAC/

Amazon.co.uk –

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00DSEDZAC/

and other Amazon outlets.

All books are also available in paperback from internet retailers worldwide.

These ebooks are also available from Nook & Kobo.

'Anything we all do, but don't talk about,  is funny............!

George Carlin, comedian, 1937-2008

PART ONE

BAD MAN RISING......

To be old and wise, you must first be young and stupid.

Anon.

1

Oh, bollocks....not again!

I've just spent the last ten minutes or so lying here trying to take in my surroundings without actually opening my eyes. My stomach and mouth tell me that I really had rather too much to drink last night. Again. So, nothing new there. My ears tell me that there is someone immediately behind me, breathing softly. There's an occasional squeak from somewhere further off, but beside that, nothing. The room is warm, so I’m guessing a college bedroom. I'm very warm, but I reckon that's because there’s someone else in the bed with me, pressed up hard against my back, their breath light on the back of my neck ..... because the bed is small, very small, made for one person only, so, yeah, a college bedroom.

And the noise coming from further away? Another bed in the room....and more people sleeping or, like me, pretending to. A double room then. And only one person I know has a double room and that's Maggie. Sharon's best mate, Maggie, that is. So it must be Sharon that I’m in bed with, right? My latest lover. Hmmmm? And I’m not surprised I’m so warm, because Sharon, Shaz to her mates, is hot. In every way I can think of.

Julius Caesar is once supposed to have said, 'Veni, vidi, vici'...which roughly translates as 'I came, I saw, I conquered'. In Shaz’s case it was more 'vidi, vici, veni'...'I saw, I conquered, I ca.....' Yeah well, you get the picture.

And so I roll over ready to greet the lady herself on this new and slightly hung over day. Only it's not Shaz. It’s Maggie. And then it all comes back to me.

Oh shit!

2

I've been awake for what seems like hours. I don't know whether to get angry or cry. Maybe I should do both. At the same time. I can't believe what happened last night...or rather what happened at the end of last night.

It all started so innocently. Just a drink in town, maybe a bop, as there was a disco on at one of the pubs. And we got pissed and had a few laughs and then we all headed back in a really good mood and when we got back to my room, me and Shaz headed off to the kitchen to get some coffees made. Only when we got back to my room, there they were, both of them, stark naked in the two beds.

Well I didn't know where to look, did I? Well, I did, but I didn't want to make it that obvious. So me and Shaz just stood there for a while, holding mugs of hot coffee like a couple of novice waitresses dithering over a difficult customer and I don't know what she was thinking, but I was thinking 'Oh God, what do I do now? These guys are making it blatantly obvious what they want and I can't see any way of backing out. Not without looking like some kind of prude, or a silly little girl, anyway'.

I mean, I knew that Shaz was going to end up in bed with Henry, even though he has a girlfriend already, but I honestly hadn't had any intentions towards Steve. I mean, he's a nice guy and that, and we get along fine, but ending up in bed with him....well.

So Shaz was the first to act, saying, 'ah, it's like that, is it?' and she put the coffee cups down and headed over to the bed that Henry was propped up in, leaving me like a lemon, standing there trying to decide what to do next. I had no choice, had I? I got to go to where Steve was, a big grin on his face. So I lay down on top of the blanket, with him underneath it, and a quick glance at the other bed and Shaz and Henry were kissing already and so, pretty much straight away, I was doing the same with Steve, the large amounts of booze inside me smoothing the way, just a little.

Then the lights went out.

It must have been Shaz getting up. I heard a whispered voice first. Henry's voice and, within seconds, someone got off the other bed and the light switch clicked. And we were in darkness. And that’s when Steve started undressing me.

'Oh well, too late to back out now,' I'd thought.

3

That man has got a damned cheek. Stripping off and getting into bed as if sex was a foregone conclusion. Well, OK, it was a foregone conclusion as far as I was concerned. I mean, it wouldn't have been the first time, would it. For us, that is. But in the same room as Maggie...and Steve too!?

I must admit I was in shock when I saw them lying there, like a couple of silly schoolboys. I mean, I wanted Henry. But just Henry. I didn't want a bloody audience to what we were going to do. Especially as the audience was going to be doing the same as us. So, yeah, not much of an audience at all, really.

But I couldn't be seen to be a party pooper could I? I mean I'm supposed to be learning here. Not just academic learning, you understand. Yes, sexual learning too. It's all part of growing up, isn't it? So to complain that this wasn't what I wanted, that I wanted something else....would have been 'bad form', as Henry himself would have put it. So I just kept quiet and went along with it.

But it didn't stop there, now, did it? Oh no. Having me in the same room as our best mates wasn't enough for you, was it Henry Blythe? You had to take it one step further, didn't you? Not happy with having me, you thought it'd be a great idea to change ends at half time, didn't you? You bloody shit!

'Hey, Steve, fancy swapping partners, mate? '

'Oh, go on then!'

And suddenly Maggie was standing by the bed, self conscious and a little scared in her nakedness and I was turfed out of bed to be replaced by my very confused looking best friend.

I felt like walking out there and then, but didn't want to be seen to be a petulant little girl. That and the fact that I was naked. I'm supposed to be an adult now. Adults do these kind of things, right? Well, some adults must do. I really don’t think that my parents would do this kind of thing. In fact the very thought of it makes me feel a bit sick, but then they don't smoke cigarettes or dope either and I've started doing both of those things too, since I got here...and drinking til I'm almost legless .... and staying up all night ....... and sleeping with guys who have girlfriends already..... and, if truth be told, sleeping with guys at all is a bit of a novelty......but I'm not letting on.

.....Only I'd have liked to have been consulted. A 'how do you fancy screwing Steve?' might have been rather more polite than what Henry said over my shoulder, as if I wasn't even there.

What the hell have I got into here? I mean, I like him, I like him a lot, everything about the man fascinates me, he's smart and he's funny and he's a bit of a hunk, but this is just getting a little crazy for me. The guy I thought I was getting into is turning out to be a bit of a bastard, and I'm going off him...very rapidly.

Very rapidly indeed.

4

Fuck, I have to get out of here!

It's light, so I guess it must be gone six thirty. I promised, didn't I? Promised Fee, that is. I don't get to spend the night. Not the whole night, that is.

I have to make my excuses and leave. Sod that, just leave.

So I climb over Maggie, gather my scattered clothes, dress as best possible and head for the door, shoes and socks in hand, because I’m more concerned to get going than get going fully clothed. A quick glance over at the other bed, and I see Steve apparently asleep, lying on his back with his mouth open. Shaz isn't asleep. She's looking directly at me. Eyes unblinking. I smile and give a little wave, but get no reaction. What’s her problem? Didn't she have a great time? Man, given the noises she was making last night, she must've had a ball. And, OK, so maybe Steve isn't the best fuck in town, or so Sammy tells me – man, I pissed myself laughing when she told me that one! And I never tire of reminding him, either. Every time he gets just a little too big for his boots, ho ho.... 'Sam says that you're a bit crap in....' Yeah, well, maybe I oughta lay off a bit. I mean, after what we got up to last night, we're sorta bosom-buddies now.....but for Shaz to get two guys in one night...well, I only  hope she feels as good about it as I do about having had these two girls.

....and, if I’m in luck, Fiona should be waking up about now.

So, seconds out, round three.

5

He's gone. That ridiculous smirk plastered all over his face. I bet he thinks he's really clever. Henry bloody Blythe. College Lothario. Jack the Lad. King of the Hill. Well, sod him, he hasn't heard the last of this.

6

Every door between Maggie's and Fiona's room is closed as quietly as humanly possible. I'm like a cat burglar. A very guilty one. Dear bleeding Christ, I can't even keep to a simple agreement, can I? 'Go screw Shaz, if you must, just don't stay out all night. '

But then I hadn't intended to give two women a seeing to, had I? Like one straight after the other. Bloody well wiped me out, it did. Couldn't help but fall asleep, could I? Totally knackered, I was. Or at least I will be, when Fee gets a hold of me. Completely knackered, if you know what I mean?

All thoughts of last night's excesses are wiped from my brain as I stand outside Fee's door. Here goes, and I turn the door handle very, very slowly.

But it's locked. Locked? What the....... Now that wasn't in the agreement either, was it? This door is supposed to be open all night so I can creep back in and snuggle up to my main squeeze whenever I like. So, I reckon, that that's a few Brownie points to me, as I couldn't have come home last night coz the bloody door was locked, could I? So, I can make out I was back around 1 a.m. and had to go and sleep on Steve's floor and not even admit to screwing Shaz....let alone screwing Maggie.

And then I hear a groan from within. A male groan. And then voices.

Ah.

Dave sodding Brown. Intellectual fuckwit of this college. My surrogate when I'm off knobbing around. Happy to take my place, ideally (for him) on a permanent basis, but let's face it, Fee is way out of his league really, at least in the looks department and I really don't get what she sees in him, let alone why she lets him into her knickers. Maybe he stuns her with his academic wit and prowess?

I reckon he just stuns her. It's probably more effective.

So I head back to the kitchen and raid other people's cupboards and the fridge for some semblance of a breakfast, in the end settling for black coffee (all the milk has turned to a lumpy gunge) and toast dripping with butter – hey, I have to keep my strength up here. Certain demands have been made on my body and a boy needs to keep his pecker up, to coin a phrase. And I'm mid way through toast slice number two, when a figure appears at the kitchen door and there he is – Dave sodding Brown, little John Lennon glasses perched on the end of his beak-like nose, sheepish grin.

Yeah, mate, I know what you've been doing, or rather who you've been doing, and I really don't approve, but I’m not in any position to criticize, am I? ...... given what I was up to last night. Yeah? What I was up to last night..... Two babes in quick succession. And I'm sitting here, safe in the knowledge that Dave sodding Brown will never, ever match that. You fuckwit. Now piss off.

And, as if reading my mind, he turns on his heel and is gone.

Minutes later, Fee strolls into the kitchen in her dressing gown, bleary eyed and hair in a tangled mess. She’s looking good, as ever.

'Good night?' and I break the silence, all sorts of other questions flitting through my mind. All relating to what she and wee Davey got up to last night. Like did you blow him? Treat him to your awesome oral skills? Which positions did you....? Did you cum ?.... and how many times? I don't really want to know.....only I do. A kind of morbid fascination, I guess.

'Yeah? I guess....' is all I get back.

'Good fuck?' Hey, why not lay it on the line, eh? No sense in beating around the bush, if you catch my drift?

She sits across the table from me, flicks her long, blonde mane over her shoulder. I catch the meaning, 'nah, not really.' And I can’t help but smile.

'He's a crap shag, isn't he?' my smile widening even further and she just smiles back, then nods slowly.

'Pretty crap, yeah,' which swells my ego no end. 'So, dare I ask where you got to last night?' And I breeze an outline of the salient points, missing out the juicy ones, and then make out that the only reason that I wasn't back, as agreed, was that the bloody door was locked, so I had to kip on Steve's floor. The lie slips easily from my tongue....as many seem to do, these days. It just gets easier with practice and I’ve had a lot of that lately.

'...and I guess it's just as well the door was locked, under the circumstances, yeah?' I say, nodding back towards the recently departed Davey sodding Brown. But Fee says nothing, just pouts in a sort of Gallic way. 'Well,' and I clap my hands and then rub them together, 'I guess you’ll be needing a decent screw? Make up for last night’s crap one.'

Without a word, she smiles, rises from her seat and heads for the door. My eyes follow her, focused hard on her swinging hips (shit, I love it when she does that. Bit of a turn on, really.).

I take one last swig of coffee and .....

Three – nil to Henry Blythe.

7

Can you believe this? He's back in my room by half past nine, suggesting we all head into town for lunch. As if nothing wrong had happened last night. Just another normal night out. Followed by sex with me and my best friend.

This is the final straw.

8

Well, I must say that Shaz appears to be in a good mood tonight. She was a bit stand-offish at lunchtime. Not her usual bubbly, sexy, little self. But tonight she's all over me in the bar, even though all our friends are there, coz it's an open secret (well, no secret at all, really) that we are screwing each other and the way things are going we may have even more of an audience than we had last night. Like a whole bar full of people. But I don't care, because I love being the centre of attention. I love that this cute little babe is all over me in front of everyone else. That all the guys are as jealous as hell, coz I've got a girlfriend and a lover besides and half of these guys here have neither. As for the girls present, well, who knows? Half of them are probably jealous too, coz I know a few of them would like a piece of this particular pie and the other half I'm probably not bothered about. I've had a fair few of them, anyway, so it really doesn't matter either way.

The way Shaz is rubbing her hand up and down my thigh is gonna make it really difficult getting up and outa here. But I do, albeit holding my biker's jacket strategically over my groin. Coz this little lady has got me to boiling point and now's the time to do something about it. I'm virtually dragged back to her room, so clearly she's as eager as me.

As soon as the door is shut, she's onto to me, and that gorgeously petite body of hers just seems to be absolutely everywhere. This lady knows how to writhe; writhe like I've never experienced before. She has an innate ability there, despite her evident inexperience. Passion, lust and need all rolled into one. Attributes I have every intention of enjoying over my last few months here, before I head out into the big, wide world. Only 'enjoy' barely covers it. 'Savour', maybe? 'Relish', even. Coz it’s this that I pursued over the last six or seven weeks. That contrast of bodies between Fee and Shaz. One so much taller, the other small and lithe, with that oh so sexy curvature of the spine all the way down to her cute little.... Yeah, well, you get the picture. It’s like contrasting a lioness and a cheetah, comparing Fee and Shaz. And right now it's the cheetah I want to play with. Claws and all.

The other man's grass is always greener, yeah?

And 'green' seems to be the appropriate word, here, because she really doesn't know what to do. Not really. I mean there is that innate sexuality, but the inexperience shines through. She knows 'get naked'. She knows what goes where. And that's about it. But what the hell, eh? You gotta start somewhere. We all do.

And start we do. And pretty soon she's reaching for a condom left thoughtfully by the side of the bed and, wo, she's even slipping it on for me. Nice one, babe. You're learning. And then she's flipping over, offering herself like I showed her last week and 'Oh heaven!' this seems like the culmination of all that effort ..... of all that pursuit.

Because the sensations that are emanating from my groin are just sending me wild and Shaz appears to be having a whale of a time too, coz there's no holding her back and I don't think I can last much longer coz this babe is hot and......and then ....and then.....

What the ......?

Oh shit! Something's ....err .... something's not quite, erm....what the ....? .... Oooo....that's a little too...... errrr a little too .... Errr...  hot? Fuck, yeah. Hot, it's hot. My prick is hot and it can't be what Shaz is doing, even though she's looking pretty bloody hot from where I'm kneeling, what with her cute little....oh FUCK that is HOT! My cock is ....burning, man. Fuck, it's on fire!

And I'm outa her in a flash and staring down at my knob, in all its latex sheathed glory wondering what the hell is going on down there coz what, just a few minutes ago, was the most amazing sensation is now just seriously painful. And I'm grabbing at the end of the johnny and tugging it off, and I don't mean in a sexual way, because all thoughts of sex in any shape or form have long since vacated my one-track brain, as the centre of my sexual universe threatens to supernova on me.

And then I'm looking at Shaz, in all her lovely nakedness. And I get the complete lack of concern on her face instantly. And then, weirdly, I get a fast forward of about twenty years and see this lovely little lady, barely more than a girl, as a forty-something woman. Tough. Resolute. Not taking shit from anyone. She'll be a force to be reckoned with in years to come. She'll go far.

And then I guess .... 'What the fuck was in that condom?' as I hop from foot to foot, then spot the wash basin in the corner of the room and head straight for it. Cool my knob off, pleeeease! And I turn the cold tap on and then I'm faced with – How the hell do you get a hard-on under a tap when the tap is hanging over the basin at waist height and your knob is pointing at the ceiling? Coz no matter how hard I press it down to get it under that cooling liquid, it just doesn't want to go. In fact my body seems to be responding to all that heat by swelling that particular part of my anatomy even further.

Oh great!

So I'm leaning forward, one leg up on the edge of the basin and my other foot firmly on the floor. But no matter how hard I try, I stay hard, if you see what I mean?

It just won't reach!

9

I know where he is...and I know what he's doing. But that's OK, sort of, as Davey is here and we're talking and getting on great and then we're kissing and that and the clothes are coming off which is fine, because I've no doubt that my so-called boyfriend is doing just the same with her. That little madam. That bitch. And then I find my hand wrapped around what Davey had in his pants until a few seconds ago and, dear me, here we go again, because although Henry is proud of his accoutrements, and they really are rather handsome, he has absolutely nothing on this. This is almost scary by comparison.

Especially as we've really only just started and Davey thinks it's time to get on top of me. Foreplay? Yeah, sure. Davey's idea of foreplay is a formal introduction and a handshake shortly before getting down to the main event. Sam told me that guys with ridiculously large appendages know bugger all about foreplay and I am now forced to agree with her. These guys think that it's all there is to sex. A large appendage. That a woman is going to swoon with delight, just at the sight of it, and be instantly ready for action. No skill, no care, no subtlety. Just wham, bam.....well, you can guess the rest.

'The rest' being what I am now being forced to suffer at the hands of my part-time lover. This isn't pleasurable, this is torture. I dig my nails into his back, not out of desire, need or lust, as he seems to think, but out of unadulterated pain.

Oh Henry, where the hell are you when you're needed? Pleasuring some nubile, first year slut, if truth be told. Well I hope you're having a better time than I am, that's all I can say. Me? I'm being bored to tears.

Literally.

10

'You put chilli in the condom?!' She just nods. 'Are you fucking crazy?!'

'Nope. You could say that I’ve just come to my senses.'

Oh, shit, I'll have to get circumcised. Will I have to change religion? Then the full repercussion hits me. No more bacon sandwiches! Oh shit, again.

And then I’m thinking - 'chilli equals curry. What do you drink to stave off a hot curry? Lager. Beer. Alcohol.' No sodding use to me right now. As if I'm gonna run down to the college bar, stark bollock naked, with the hottest hard-on this side of Brighton and order 'a pint of pilsner, Mr Barman, if you please'.

Then pour it over my knob. 

Then it occurs to me. 'Yoghurt!' Yeah, that yoghurt dip thing that they serve in Indian restaurants. Raita, yeah? Cools the fire. That oughta do it. And so I'm up at the door, bent double and peaking out to make sure the coast is clear. It is. Five paces to the kitchen door. Peak inside. Empty! Great. Fridge. Oh yes!! A small pot of the white and creamy and (most importantly) cooling stuff on a shelf on the inside the fridge door. And I rip the foil top off and then look at the white stuff in the pot and then at my burning erection and think - 'how the hell am I gonna...?' 'Oh fuck it,' I say out loud and just tip the pot upside down and stick it on the end of the offending member....

Oh, bliss!!

Immediately the sting is taken out of my tail and waves of soothing coolness sweep over me. Oh thank bleedin' Christ for that! From Hell to Heaven in an instant. Then I hear the kitchen door swing open and I honestly think I'd see Shaz standing there, maybe thinking that she could lend me a hand? Or two?

But no.

Now Frank Connolly had seen a thing or two in his time, or so he never ceased to tell anyone that cared to listen....and many more who really didn't care at all. 'You see, in The War, we'd had it tough. You never knew whether you'd see the next day or not. Not like these days with all these namby-pamby students. They don't know they’ve been born, what with their easy lives and that.' Yes, he reckoned he'd seen it all, this college porter.

Until now, of course.

He looks at me and my nakedness, then at the yoghurt pot and then back at me. Me? I’m frozen to the spot. I’ve even stopped moving the yoghurt pot rapidly up and down. Forming his moustachioed mouth into a perfect O, he sort of bows out of the room backwards ......... and closes the door.

Oh fuck!

Just wait til this gets out. Oscar bloody Wilde and his '....only one thing in the world worse than being talked about....' bollocks. He hadn't just been caught bonking a vanilla dessert, now, had he? Smart twat! It'll be all over the next edition of the college newspaper, that's for sure. I can see the headline now .....

'Henry Blythe caught sexing up a yoghurt.'

I could even write the sodding article myself.

'Henry Blythe, 23, renowned for his sexual appetite and wayward ways, has  outdone even himself in his lust for greater sexual thrills by fornicating with a dairy product.

Late on Sunday night, college porter, Frank Connolly, 61, stumbled upon the aforementioned Mr Blythe whilst doing his nightly rounds. Mr Blythe was reported to have been found naked in a college kitchen with his erect member buried in a pot of Ski yoghurt (flavour unknown). Mr Blythe’s interaction with said pot was believed to have been ‘vigorous’. Frank Connolly is now on indefinite sick leave and under heavy sedation. He has been offered counselling.'

Fan-bloody-tastic.

11

I can't believe the audacity of the man. I also can't believe how funny he looks standing there with his wilting cock on show, a plastic pot stuck on the end, looking like a condom that's shrunk in the wash, all smeared with the remnants of...of....of yoghurt.

I'm half stifling a laugh. Only half stifling, mind you, as I want this man, this person, to suffer every last ounce of humiliation that I can wring out of this situation.

But all he can do is stand there, arms out wide in a 'what the fuck was that all about?' kind of stance.

He doesn’t understand. He really doesn't understand.

And I thought he was smart.

Huh!

12

This person is not a happy bunny today.

Shaz has dumped me for reasons that I'm still not clear about. To make it worse, she's been all over Steve in the college bar. I mean, why him? He's not doing it out of spite, though I’m guessing that she is. He just shrugged at me when I walked in and saw her draped in his lap. He wasn't fighting her off though, was he? The bastard. She coulda chosen her partner a bit better, though. I mean, if she's got a problem with what happened the other night, why the fuck is she with Steve? Surely he's as much to blame for what happened as I am? If 'blame' is the right word. And even then, the bottom line, the real bottom line, is 'what the fuckinell was the problem?' If she didn't wanna do something, she shoulda bloody well said. I mean, no-one forced her, did they? But she's behaving like they did.

Like we did.

Like I did!

To make matters worse, Fee is still knocking around with Lover Boy Brown. A bigger knob end you could not wish to meet. And I don't mean that in a sexual way. And now that I don't have an alternative to play with, I'm getting more and more pissed off that someone else is bonking my bird. I don't think I have the energy to go chase another first year student. It took enough bloody effort to get Shaz into bed and