The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 16n

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PAUL C
PAUL C
69 Followers

I climbed into the back of the Ambulance and the attendant made me sit on the spare trolley. The man in the white coat was bent over Jenny. Shinning a light into her eyes as we moved away. I knew it would only take fifteen minutes to get to the hospital but it seemed to take forever. Finally we pulled to a halt and the rear doors were thrown open. I tried to stand and everything started spinning.

Somebody was groaning. It was me.

I opened my eyes. The light was bright so I closed them again. I lay still listening to the sounds around me. People were moving about. Metal was being banged against metal. There was a certain amount of grunting and groaning. I slowly opened one eye and looked about. I was in a hospital ward. Screens made from a white material surrounded my bed. The noises came from the other side.

I lifted my head and opened my other eye. Two men in black suits were standing at the foot of the bed. One was holding a small revolver. I recognised it as being the one from the cave.

"Hello, Senor Wagstaffe." One of them said. "You are well?"

Well enough to be in hospital.

There was a jug of water and a glass on my bedside table. I struggled into a sitting position and poured myself a drink. The two men stood looking at me.

"You are feeling better, yes? The second man asked.

I poured myself a second drink and flexed as many muscles as I could before answering. I felt stiff but otherwise all right.

"I am feeling fine." I answered in English. The language they had used.

"How is my wife?" I continued.

"She will be all right." The one holding the revolver assured me.

He looked down at the revolver then up at me.

"We have some questions."

"Can I see my wife?"

"When you have answered our questions."

"What do you want to know?"

"You went flying this morning?" The second one asked.

"Yes." I confirmed. "I have a new aeroplane. I promised a friend that I would take her up in it."

"Your friends name?"

I told him Izabella's name and title.

They looked at each other.

"And did you take her for a ride in your plane?" The first one asked.

What should I say? I had no reason to protect her. It would all come out in the end anyway.

"No." I said, finally. "She wanted me to fly a friend of hers to North Africa."

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"The Contessa?" The first man had placed the revolver into a pocket in his jacket. "What part did she have in this?"

"He stayed at her villa."

And the questions continued.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jenny.

Paul was playing the piano.

Slowly. Gently. I should know the name.

I looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It showed six-thirty. I stretched. Then settled back to listen.

It had been ten days before I was allowed to leave the hospital in Malaga and another two weeks since our return to England. The bullet had nicked one of the major blood vessels in my arm. They had operated on me on the first day and I had spent a further day on drips.

I didn't remember much about that part.

Paul had told me about his having had a number of conversations with some men. We were to say nothing about what had happened. The collapse of the cave had been a natural occurrence. There had never been a flight to North Africa. Izabella's husband had retired from politics and was to be the Ambassador to a South American country. Her sister had been exploring the caves with an English friend and they had died in a terrible accident.

The music had stopped. I heard Paul on the stairs and the door to the bathroom open. I imagined him on the toilet. Flushing it and swearing at it for making a noise. Washing his hands. Would he have a shave? I could hear the shower. I couldn't join him until my arm was fully healed. I had to make do with baths instead. I liked our showers together.

I looked again at the alarm clock. Five minutes to seven.

Shirley would be back from her parents in a couple of days. Paul had accepted her moving in without a word. Something was on his mind. Something he hadn't told me. I didn't mind what had he agreed we were to say about our honeymoon to the Spanish Authorities and anybody else who asked. But I don't think it was that that was bothering him.

He had lost his plane. Beyond repair. The insurance company was asking questions about some of the damage. Paul didn't seem to be bothered about getting it replaced.

At least we were home. I loved this house.

I needed to find out what was wrong with him.

He hadn't really made love to me since we returned. He had tried. Bless him. He'd touched me. Made me come. Entered me. But there was something missing.

I heard the bathroom door open. His face appeared around the bedroom door checking to see if I was still asleep. He smiled when he saw that my eyes were open.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" He asked.

"It was a lovely way to wake up." I replied, pulling back the bedclothes on his side of the bed. "I love to hear you play. Come back to bed."

"I was going to make a cup of tea."

"Later."

He climbed back into bed.

"I want to talk to you." I said, placing my hand on his pubic bone just above his prick and balls.

His prick moved by itself.

He placed his own hand on my pubic mound and gave it a squeeze. I could feel myself starting to get wet. I moved my hand down and closed my fingers around his prick. It still felt damp from his shower. I stroked his fore skin back and forth while he placed a finger on each of the outer lips of my fanny and massaged them gently.

"You wanted to speak?" He asked in a slightly husky voice.

"Yes." I coughed.

I opened my legs wider.

"Something is wrong." I stated.

He ran his fingertip along the crack between my fanny lips. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"Is there?" He answered.

His fingertip was working its way inside me.

"You know there is." His prick was growing. "What is it?" I asked.

He turned onto his side to face me pushing his finger inside me at the same time.

I could stroke him better in this position. I quickened my hand movements.

"It's alright."

He worked his finger in and out of me.

"No it isn't."

I looked at his face. His eyes were closed. He was smiling.

I released his prick and turned onto my side facing away from him pulling his finger from my hole. I caught his wrist and held his hand to my breast whilst pushing my backside back towards him and lifting my topmost leg. I could feel the head of his prick between my bum cheeks. I didn't want it there. Not at this minute anyway, so reached back between my legs and guided it to lips of my fanny. I held them open as he pushed against me. Once, twice. I gasped as he entered me.

That felt good. I lowered my leg and closed my hand over the one that held my breast. I could feel my nipple responding. The whole breast was increasing in sensitivity. The amount of liquid inside my fanny was also increasing.

He adjusted his position behind me to fit more of his prick inside me. I pushed back, eager to accept it.

"So, what is wrong?" I panted slightly.

He was silent for a moment. The only sounds were our breathing and the gentle creaking of the bed.

"I killed them." He answered finally.

"Who?"

"Victoria and Rogers."

He stopped moving. I squeezed his prick with the muscles inside my fanny.

"I left that bloody bomb in there with them."

So that was it.

He started moving again. Ramming his prick in and out of me. I bit my bottom lip to prevent myself crying out. Suddenly he stopped again.

"Sorry." He said, gently massaging my breast. "Did I hurt you?"

"A little." I squeezed his hand. "But it's alright."

"It isn't."

He started moving again. This time smoothly. Building up his speed. I felt warm inside. A warm glow that was building and spreading itself throughout my body. He was moving faster. Something was building inside of me. Something that needed to get out. I held my breath as the waves of pleasure broke over me. I could feel his prick jerking inside me. Further wetting my fanny.

I breathed out as he stopped moving. His prick was still inside me. Doing wonderful things to my insides.

"You are never going to leave me." He was pushing against me. "Are you?"

"No plans at present." I confirmed, breathing heavily.

I could feel his prick growing again inside my fanny.

"Why?"

"I couldn't go through another honeymoon like that."

"Pratt." I said and loved him.

The End.

PAUL C
PAUL C
69 Followers
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