The Chauffeuse

Alcander stiffened, leaned over the steering wheel and turned slowly to Oliver with nostrils flaring and a fierce glitter in his dark brown eyes. They were almost black.

"Let's go," was all he said, low and quiet.

"Whoohoo!"

*******

"Miss Spencer?"

"Yes, Mr. Jackson?"

"Could you come in here a moment?"

"Certainly, Sir."

Jenny trounced in, looking for all the world like a schoolgirl trying to play grown-up in pigtails, a short, pleated grey skirt, tight-fitting white blouse, white, over-the-knee nylon socks and red, patent leather Mary Janes. Mr. Jackson straightened his wife's photo frame and closed his eyes for a second, trying to will his cock into submission. It didn't work.

"Ah, Jenny, that call you just put through to me?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"It was the Secretary for the Oxford Restitution Committee. They haven't seen or heard from Dr. Barrie."

"Oh?"

"Samantha was supposed to get him there this morning. Have you heard from her?"

"No, Sir! Gawd, d'you think they're alright, Sir?"

"I don't know. Well, obviously, something's wrong. Look, call the car, will you? Find out what's going on."

"Right, Sir! Right away, Sir!"

She'd done them up in red ribbon bows to match her Mary Janes. Her pigtails. He wanted to take hold of those glossy dark reins while he used her tight little pussy with his...

Humphrey Jackson groaned. He never wanted to be in the Civil Service. He wanted to be a professional groundskeeper, beating the heather under windswept skies for grouse and pheasant; or a Master of Ceremonies, leading foxhounds and local villagers on a wild rampage through the English countryside. Raping and pillaging along the way, preferably...

"There's no answer, Sir!"

...in charge of situations, having An Adventure. But not like this. Please, Dear God, not a bloody missing foreign national, traveling courtesy of the Diplomatic Corp. Not on his watch. They were only doing UNESCO a favor, for God's sake. It wasn't like anybody *cared*.

Oh God. Protest groups. Kidnappings. He told himself to get a grip; nobody would kidnap somebody over the Elgin Marbles, surely?

Humphrey Jackson sat up straight. His hour had come. He was, finally, in charge of something. By golly, he was going to make Mrs. Jackson proud!

"Miss Spencer! Call the Thames Valley Police, and then the Metropolitan Police. Give them the limo's full particulars. Let them know the passenger is a foreign national on a diplomatic mission, and please be sure to emphasize the utmost confidentiality is expected by Her Majesty's Service."

"Right, Sir!"

"Wait a minute! Call the Montague Hotel first and find out if what's-his-name is still there. Maybe they never went to Oxford." He had a feeling about that, somehow.

"What is his name, anyway?"

"Dr. Oliver Barrie, Sir."

"Let me know immediately, Miss Spencer."

"Yes, Sir!"

She came flying in a moment later, breasts bouncing and pigtails streaming. She was alive, grinning from ear to ear, deep grey eyes sparkling. She was having An Adventure. With him. He felt powerful, like never before.

"Anything to report, Miss Spencer?"

"YES, Sir!"

"Well then, let's have it, girl!"

Jenny almost squealed with delight. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, head bobbing.

"WELL, Sir... the hotel said Dr. Barrie was picked up by Samantha at 8:30 this morning. And they haven't heard from him since, or seen the limo again, Sir."

"That eliminates one possibility, Miss Spencer. Well done."

"Oh, gosh. Thank you, Sir."

The phone rang. Humphrey sat back while Jenny sprang for it, put his hands behind his head and spread his legs a bit, listened to her telling the police "Aha" and "I see". She'd always been a good girl. A bit on the silly side, and lazy sometimes. But when it came down to it, she was all there. Much more intelligent than she let on. Like him, really; just needed a challenge in life.

"It's the Metropolitan Police, Sir. They've found the limo; it's in Soho. Not damaged at all, no accident report on the vehicle. They want to know if they should investigate further."

"Soho? Oh my Lord. Hand over that phone!"

The Metropolitan Police agreed that, given the fact there was no evidence of any crime, they would wait for his call before investigating further. However, they advised Humphrey to exercise caution and to call immediately he felt assistance might be required. After all, it was "a known area of ill repute", as the officer put it.

Humphrey jotted down the name of the street. "Call a cab, Miss Spencer. You and I are going to Soho."

"Ooo, Sir!"

"And get the garage to give you a spare set of keys to that Silver Spur. I'm going to drive it back myself, after we've found Miss Kane."

*******

"I should call somebody, I think."

"Like who, darling?"

"My boss, I suppose. I don't think he's my boss anymore, though. You don't abandon your passenger and get to stay with the Diplomatic Corp. Pity, really. I only had four more cars left to go."

"You know, I think you and me are both done with what we were doing. You didn't really want to carry on that childish game, did you?"

Samantha felt miserable, and she couldn't figure out why. She didn't really like the job that much.

"I don't think I did, no. And it was the only reason I was in the Corps to begin with. I guess I was leaving. I wouldn't have pulled that stunt, otherwise."

"That's right, dear."

"You going to give up being a prostitute, Odessa?"

"Yes, love. I've got a bit of money saved up. I'm going back to Greece. Why don't you come with me? We could start up a little taxi service together. We'd be great with the tourists."

Samantha was about to reply to that when Dr. Barrie's cell phone rang. It was sitting on the kitchen table between the two women, along with his laptop. Samantha stared at it, wide-eyed. After a few rings, Odessa picked it up.

"This is Odessa. Oh! Well, hello. Uh-huh. Yes. That would be fine... Yes, she's here. Okay. 'Bye."

"Help me tidy up a bit, darling. We're going to have company."

"Oh God. Not Oliver?"

"Yes, dear. He's bringing Alcander with him."

"Was he mad? I can't face him, Odessa. I've got to get out of here."

Odessa reached across the table and gripped Samantha's hands with both of hers.

"Listen to me. There comes a time when you can't run, Samantha. If you do you just keep running, like I did. But you'll still have to face it one day. It won't quit. So stay, darling. Help me, and I'll help you. Deal? We've helped each other so well, so far. Just a little further, dear. Please?"

Samantha stared at the older woman's hands, so strong and firm around her own, then looked up and smiled, a little shakily.

"Okay," she whispered.

"Good girl. Quick, now. They'll be here in a minute."

*******

Odessa opened the door when the doorbell rang to find Alcander standing before her with a small bouquet of violets in his hand, and Oliver standing squarely behind him.

Nobody said anything, until Oliver prodded Alcander in the back.

"These are for you, Odessa."

"How lovely, Alcander! Thank you. Come in? You too, Oliver."

The men trooped in together, stopped in the entryway and peered left into the kitchen at the clattering going on in there. Samantha was nervously washing up, dropping dishes and soaking herself as she did so. Odessa gently steered her away from the sink, handed her a kitchen towel and made her sit back down at the table.

Alcander stepped into the kitchen and pulled up a chair next to Samantha. "Hullo, again."

"Hello Alcander."

"Did Oliver speak to you, about me going with you?"

Samantha looked quickly over at Oliver. He was smiling at her, nodding. She felt better, gave him a weak smile back.

"Ah, yes, Alcander. We talked about it yesterday morning."

Oliver joined them at the table, taking the seat opposite Samantha. He was still smiling, looking a little dreamily at her.

"So it'll be okay? If I change my mind?"

"It'll be fine, Alcander. Would it be alright if I stayed around a while?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Tea, everyone?"

Everyone chirped "yes" and "please" at once and then silence resumed as Odessa put the flowers in a small vase and got busy with the teapot and accoutrements.

"Why don't you and I go into the living room, Alcander? We have things to talk about, and I'm sure Oliver and Samantha won't mind, right?"

Oliver and Samantha both assured her they didn't mind at all. Alcander set his shoulders, gave Oliver a firm nod, and marched off into the small but bright living room. When Odessa brought in the tray of tea things, she found him gazing out the window at the street below.

"You threw a bucket of water over me from this window two days ago."

Odessa set the tray down slowly. "Yes. I apologize, Alcander. I shouldn't have done it."

"Do you still want money for the other night?"

"No. I don't."

"I think I would like to make love to you again, Odessa. Only this time, I don't want for there to be any misunderstanding. I won't be paying for it. You'll be giving it to me." He turned to her with a searching look. "Is this acceptable?"

She smiled. "It is."

"But first, I want for us to talk about your future. I want to take you back to Greece. You and I need to get to know each other again, Odessa. I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do, but I want you to live well. I want you to be happy. This isn't the place for you now. Will you allow that?"

"Well, it depends on what you have in mind, Alcander. You can't just walk in and take over my life."

"I know it."

"But I want to go back."

"You want us to try being friends a while?"

"I want to go back, Alcander," she told him, softly.

"Oh, darling. If we can, we will."

"We could find out, at least. But you know, it won't be easy. I've lived a very bad life."

Alcander nodded as he sat down on the sofa, patted the seat beside him. "Come here."

She sat beside him while he poured tea.

"I want you to tell me all about it..."

In the kitchen, Samantha and Oliver were sipping tea in silence, avoiding each other's eye, until Oliver couldn't stand it any more.

"You okay?"

"Uh huh. Unemployed, probably. But I'm okay."

"You could make something up. I'd back you."

"Like what?"

"Um, like I changed plans on you at the last minute?"

"You'd do that? After what I did?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I?"

"Why would you?"

"You're not supposed to answer a question with a question."

"I know, but my question is better. Really, I want to know. Why would you do that?"

"Well, you'd owe me."

"You like having me owe you, don't you? Like, owing you for a report that never existed."

"Ah. Um, yeah. But look, you settled that score pretty well. You're tricky, Sammie. It's damn hard to get you where I want you; I don't quit though, it's my nature. Odessa okay, do you think?"

"She seems to be. I don't think she's thinking about you much, anymore."

"That's a good thing. I'm glad about that. Wanna take a peek, see how they're doing?"

"No, leave them alone a while."

They sipped some more.

"Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

"Where do you want me?"

"What?"

"You said it's hard to get me where you want me."

"Oh! Oh, somewhere I can always find you."

"You think you have to have something over me for that?"

He thought about it. "Well, yeah. Basically, I'm not good for much. I mean, I travel around a lot and meet some important people, in their ways, but I'm pretty shiftless, kinda aimless in life. I do stupid things just because I can. I know it drives women crazy, but I can't help it. And I'm getting older, Sammie. Not much to offer, really. Not when you get past the surface. There's not much that's real. That's the truth about me, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, I know. You're an insufferable, unmanageable old fart with no personality."

He nodded, good humouredly. "That sums it up well. You have a way with words, you know."

"Thank you. You're overlooking something, though."

"Oh? What's that?"

"I like you."

"I like you too, Sammie. A lot. I'd like to get to know you better. Think you could let me?"

"How much better? In what ways, Oliver?"

"Well, I'd like to know what side of the bed you sleep on, what movies you like, your favorite places. Things like that. Think you might like Texas?"

"I've never thought about Texas."

"It's big, open. Bit different from London."

"I like different things, usually. Yeah, I might like Texas."

"Sammie?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you have a passport?"

"I do."

"I want you to fly back with me on Wednesday. Stay with me a while. I'll be back for the Select Committee hearings in a few weeks. You could come back then. Or not."

"Or not?"

"You could just stay there; wait for me to return. I kinda like the idea of you waiting around for me."

"You don't want much, do you?"

He reached across the table, took the mug of tea out of her hands and pulled her to him by her arms until she was in his lap.

"I want everything, Sammie. Everything of you."

On Brewer Street, down below the apartment, Humphrey Jackson was trying the keys in the Silver Spur.

"Do you think Samantha's around here somewhere, Sir?"

"I'm sure of it, Jenny but God only knows... Bloody Hell!"

She heard it at the same time and followed her boss's shocked gaze to the same open upper window.

"OH! OH! OHHH!"

Jennifer giggled. "Um, Sir? I think that could be Samantha."

Humphrey Jackson, man of action, knew immediately what he had to do. He charged into the apartment building, heading for the source of the sound. "You're right, and she's in trouble! I'm going in! You wait here, Jenny!"

"Not bloody likely!"

They both raced into the building and up the narrow flight of stairs to Odessa's door, Humphrey Jackson barely making first place. "Stand back!"

Jenny stepped in front of him as he prepared to throw himself against the door, turned the door handle and walked in. She was just stepping inside when Humphrey made full-charge contact with her back. She was catapulted onto the entryway floor, legs akimbo and her skirt up around her waist. Staggering but managing to keep his footing, Humphrey was treated to a full view of her plump little round arse, in white cotton panties. His favorite things.

He had an overwhelming sense of affection for his secretary in that moment: apart from the sheer deliciousness of the view, one of the things he had always appreciated about her was her attention to detail. She really was something, he reflected, fondly.

She maneuvered around trying to regain her footing, and then stopped dead in open-mouthed, pop-eyed gawk at what was happening on the kitchen chair just in front of her. Dr. Oliver Barrie had his big-boned hands around his chauffeuse's hips, and he was bouncing her up and down in his lap.

Jenny scrambled backwards into the entryway and got back on her feet. Humphrey Jackson was staring in obvious glee at the fucking chauffeuse. Jenny's attention was drawn to the living room's open archway, from where the sounds of human howling were emanating: she had a side view of Odessa naked, on all fours on the living room carpet. Odessa was giving Alcander a full rendition of her life as a whore, and Alcander was helping her do it, doggy-style and vigorously.

"Ahem! Miss Kane? I say, Miss Kane?"

"Oooo! Huh-huh-huh hu-llo, suh-suh-suh-suh Sir!"

She was on tiptoe, legs astride Oliver's fiercely pumping groin, tits and hair bouncing hard as she looked helplessly over his shoulder at her boss. Oliver held her down on his cock for a moment while he twisted to see who she was speaking to.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Um, I'm Humphrey Jackson, Samantha's boss." Humphrey wasn't too sure now who was in charge of the situation. It seemed so impolite to be intruding, suddenly, but somehow he couldn't pull himself away.

Oliver had no doubts about anything: "Look, do you think you could go somewhere? We're busy."

"Ah, yes. Of course. So sorry."

Humphrey sidled over to behind Jennifer and took in the proceedings in the living room. He saw a naked, heavyset man with a thick cock pumping into an equally naked bronze-maned woman. Her full breasts were swinging, her head was held up by her hair in which was entangled one of the man's hands and, as he watched, he saw the man's other hand swing underhand and land firmly with a flourish on the softest, fullest part of her left cheek which was bright red. He'd obviously been doing it for a while.

The woman's cry blended in his brain with his employee's rising wailing somewhere to the left and behind him, and Humphrey Jackson couldn't take it anymore. All his life he'd wanted to get his. Just one moment of willing compliance, or even unwilling. He really didn't care. Just as long as it wasn't cold, humiliating Mrs. Jackson. Just as long as it was warm, nubile, young and unsuspecting...

He quietly unzipped his trousers, let them drop to his ankles and pulled his cock out of his underpants. At nine inches it wasn't quite fully erect, but he knew what would fix that. He shuffled and leaned suddenly over Jenny, bending her forward. He slipped an arm over her left arm and around her and pulled her to him, his hand pressing hard on her mons while with the other he flipped up her skirt, dragged down her little cotton panties and slipped a finger between her legs. She flailed with her free arm, yelping in surprised protest. But she was already moist, and it didn't take much persuasion for her pursed lips to open and allow his long finger to slide into her. She squealed at the intrusion, which he found all the more engaging as he kicked her feet apart and pressed against the insides of her legs with his knees.

He grasped his tool, prodded her with its head, then smoothed it between her lips in an insistent, persuasive rhythm.

"Do you want it, Miss Spencer?" he asked, whispering in her ear. "All the other girls think it's so nice. You could have it too. I'd give it to you."

"Oh, SIR!"

"Stop wriggling, girl! Open your legs!"

She did.

"That's better. Getting wetter too; you *do* want it, don't you?! But you'll have to work for it, you little minx. You're going to suck me up, get me all big and hard. You're going to do that, aren't you, Miss Spencer?"

She was.

"Turn around now. Get down on your knees; over there, on the carpet. Crawl!"

Jenny slithered on all floors from the narrow archway into the living room, panties around her knees. Alcander stopped in mid-plunge into Odessa and looked in puzzlement at the new arrival, but when he saw Humphrey lean up against the far wall and Jenny begin to fellate him, he figured Odessa had lent her place to another prostitute and thought no more about it. Odessa had no idea who the couple was, and was too happy to care.

Humphrey was in seventh heaven and didn't care what anybody thought about anything. There seemed to be no end to his secretary's talents. She'd found the sensitive spot on the underside of his cock, just below the notch in his head, and was holding him up so she could tease it with her tongue tip. Not that he needed much support; he was now hard as iron.

Then she did something Mrs. Jackson had probably never dreamed of: trapped his testicles in a ring with the forefinger and thumb of her right hand, and started to squeeze and pull. He didn't know if he was in excruciating pain or excruciating pleasure. Just as he decided it was both, she eased up.

"Do you want more, Sir?"

"Yes!"

"Can I suck on it too, Sir?"

"Put it in your mouth, you gorgeous little slut."

"Thank you, Sir."

She took his enormous girth as deeply as she could and created the best suction he'd ever felt with her cheeks and lips. If he'd put it in a vacuum cleaner, it wouldn't have sucked any better. Then he felt her using the flat of her tongue on the underside of his shaft, felt his balls swelling and hurting as she pulled on him, and he knew, with more certainty than anything he'd ever known, he was going to fuck the living daylights out of little, plump, gorgeously giving Jenny Spencer for the rest of his natural days. And he was going to do it extremely unnaturally. Beginning right now.