The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 18ubyPAUL C©
Rubies are Red. Part 21.
I sat with my back to the wall beside the door, my revolver on the floor by my side. The city was quiet at last.
Louise and Heather lay fully clothed on the beds and Howie on the floor across the French windows. I had tried to sleep there for an hour but it had been no good so I had offered to relieve Howie from his stint of guard duty early. Now that I was supposed to be awake my eyes felt really heavy and I had to keep on shaking myself to keep from dropping off.
The noises had gone on for another hour outside and then ceased as if somebody had thrown a switch. I'd looked over the parapet of the veranda a couple of times and once saw the group of men who had dragged off the blond woman earlier come out of a side street. There was no sign of the woman. They had looked up at our room and talked and gestured for a few seconds but had then moved off down the street.
I worried about what they had done to the woman.
Louise, in the bed closest to me was turning onto her side and facing me with her back to Heather and Howie. She was holding her hand out towards me. It moved. She was beckoning me to come. I moved as quietly as I could towards her and knelt on the floor by her head. She reached out and pulled my head down until our lips met. Her lips opened and I could feel her tongue probing for a way my own. Not being one to refuse a lady I opened then and pushed back against hers' with my own.
I placed one hand on her breasts feeling each in turn then moved my hand down to the waist band of her jeans. I kissed her again and felt for her zip, pulling it down and searching inside her jeans for the top of her panties. I could feel her stomach muscles tighten as I slid my way inside. Felt her soft, warm mass of curly pubic hairs and then the beginning of her slit. She lifted her top leg as I pushed my finger between her thighs and along the lips of her fanny.
It was hot in there. Hot and wet.
I pushed my finer between her lips and inside her. She felt really tight. I worked my finger in and out feeling her start to loosen. Hearing the changes in her breathing. The sudden gasp as I pushed my finger as far inside her as it would go.
I moved my finger around as much as the cramped conditions inside her allowed. Pushing against the sides of her fanny and rubbing the soft spongy bit at the front.
She was definitely getting wetter. And looser as well.
I pulled my finger out, resisting the temptation to take it out from inside her clothes and lift it to my nose, and felt for her clit.
Her sigh told me that I had found it. It was a gentle sigh.
I placed the tip of my finger full on her clit and moved it from side to side. She closed her legs for a second and I almost yelled out in pain. Then she relaxed and her rate of breathing increased.
I moved my finger faster not losing contact with her clit. She sighed then groaned. I covered her mouth with my own to stifle her cries. Her legs closed again and her whole body seemed to tense.
I moved my finger away and lifted my lips from hers.
"Oh." She sighed, breathing deeply. "Oh, thank you."
I kissed her lightly on the lips and moved back to my position next to the door. I lifted my finger to my nose and breathed in her smell.
I believed I could see Louise smiling in the dark.
Jenny would be just starting her exam.
One down one to go.
I felt confident enough. I wasn't at my best but I hopefully had done enough.
Shirley was glowing. There was a spring in her step. I hadn't seen her this happy in ages. Matt looked tired.
"Are you coming home?" I asked.
"No." She replied. "Maybe tonight. Matt's taking me into Bath for lunch."
Oh. That meant I would be alone with Ron. I still wasn't sure what I wanted. But this time I was going to be adult about it.
I confirmed the details of our end of term party with Mary and walked to my car. It was bright at that moment but there were some dark clouds coming from Bristol.
I drove the twenty minutes from the college to home my mind still in turmoil. What did I really want?
I really wanted Paul. I should have gone with him. He'd get himself into trouble without me. I just knew it. Paul's mother had phoned that morning with the news that his grandfather was in prison. There had been some reports that Roddrego was leading the revolution but I found that hard to believe. Hopefully Paul would manage to get his grandfather freed and out of the country before things turned really nasty out there.
I knew his grandfather hadn't been very well recently and Paul's mother had been very worried what effect a spell in a South American prison would have on his health.
I turned on the radio in the kitchen when I got to our house and put the kettle on to boil. I turned on the central heating to warm the house up and made myself a sandwich for my lunch. The song on the radio ended and the news began. More strikes. More threats of strikes. The Queen was going to Sandringham for Christmas. Reports of widespread bloodshed in the Capitol of the country Paul was in.
I pushed my sandwich away. The airport was closed. Communications were difficult. The weather forecast for tomorrow would be for a north-easterly wind to bring colder weather and rain from the North Sea.
But what about Paul? And Howie and Louise?
There was a ring at the front door. I hurried to answer it. Ron stood on the doormat. He was holding a bunch of flowers.
Louise took my hand as we left the hotel at eight am and walked behind Serge as the young Bellhop was called. He had called to take me to the ministry of internal security as promised. We had had a quick conference that morning and decided that it would be best if we called on Bill on the way to the ministry rather than wait for him to keep his ten o'clock appointment. There had been no sign of any staff downstairs when Howie and I had investigated an hour before. The kitchens had been ransacked but we had managed to find some bottles of wine in a cupboard, some tins of food and some bottles of water. We had carried them upstairs and made a hurried breakfast.
There were other people moving about the hotel. A group of men were discussing sending for the police to protect them. Many were complaining that there was no staff about. What were they going to do for breakfast? Why wouldn't the toilets flush?
Outside of the hotel it looked like a battlefield. There were broken shop windows and items strewn everywhere. We passed an abandoned car. There were bullet holes in the bodywork.
I stopped at the entrance to the alley the gang had dragged the young woman wondering if I dared take the time to investigate. My grandfather hadn't said much about some of the civil wars he had been involved in but one thing he had said stood out now. That was that you couldn't take care of everyone. Sometimes he had had to ignore the cries for help so as not to bring down trouble on his own friends.
Louise was looking at me.
"Let's go." I said stepping over the legs of an old woman who sat with her back propped up against a wall.
She looked up at me a look of helplessness in her eyes. I wanted to stop and help her but looking up and down the street there where twenty perhaps thirty other people. I couldn't help them all.
Louise pointed her camera at the woman and I heard the shutter click. We hurried after Serge.
There was a low rumbling in the distance. A jet plane screamed overhead.
We passed more abandoned vehicles and some dead bodies. Louise took some more photos.
I heard somebody speaking on a transistor radio. Everybody was to remain calm. To stay in their own homes. The situation was under control. Power and water would be restored soon and in the meantime Martial law had been declared. Looters would be shot. I supposed that Howie and I could be classed as looters.
"The address you have?" Serge stopped in front of a tall block of apartments. "It is here."
The front doors to the building had been broken and we crunched on the broken glass as we entered. There was a smell in the air. Of burnt roast dinner. That was what it reminded me of. When my father had been left in charge of the Sunday joint.
"Which floor?" I asked Louise, pressing the button for the lift.
"Third." She replied as the door opened.
I wanted to throw up. I turned away and breathed deeply. Louise screamed.
"I must go home, Senor." Serge said. "My mother and my sister."
He looked as ill as I felt.
I nodded. Not trusting myself to speak.
"Go that way." He pointed in the direction we had been travelling. "Five more minutes."
I watched him leave and placed my arm around Louise's shoulders. She was shaking.
"Come on." I urged gently. "Let's find Bill."
She allowed me to lead her to the staircase and we started to climb. I took my revolver from inside the waistband of my trousers where it had been hidden by my shirt and held it out in front of me. I could feel my hand shake.
The ground floor and first floors were totally wrecked. Every door was broken in. I dreaded to think what sights would greet us were we to enter any of the apartments.
The second floor hadn't been touched it seemed. All the doors were shut. It was very quiet. I imagined the owners of the apartments waiting in fear behind their doors. Would the terror return? Would they be next?
We climbed to the third floor and Louise checked the numbers on the doors. We stopped at 3H and Louise knocked softly on the door.
"Bill." She called in a low voice. "It's me Louise."
"Who?" A voice replied.
There was the sound of something heavy being moved. Then a bolt, lock and chain. The door opened slightly and I could see an eye looking at me. I slipped my revolver into my trouser pocket.
"Who's that?" The voice asked.
"This is my friend." Louise replied standing in full view. "Paul Wagstaffe. We are alone."
The door opened fully and a woman of perhaps sixty years of age revealed herself top us.
"Hello Bill." Louise said, leaning forward and kissing her on both cheeks. "Paul, this is Bill, Belinda Watkinson. A country woman of yours and our local correspondent."
I found myself shaking hands to the sound of gunfire in the street below.
We entered the apartment and pushed the heavy chest of drawers back into place.
"Things have been moving quickly." Bill said, pouring herself some vodka from a bottle.
She offered it to us and we both shook our heads in refusal.
"The government troops have been outflanked." Belinda said. "They advanced too quickly thinking they had only a few hundred to beat. The Marxists have cut their supply chain. Taken much of their equipment have many troops trapped the wrong side of the mountain gap. The troops that are left are not of high calibre. I fear even more for the inhabitants of this city. As with many of the countries in South America this country was created by Europeans with no thought for tribal boundaries. For many years the tribes of the hinterland have been suppressed by the current rulers. There are many, many old scores to be settled."
"They are not dedicated Marxists?" I asked watching her drink.
She was a big boned woman. Grey in her hair. A face that would once have been very pretty. But too much sun and, I supposed, alcohol had taken its toll.
"Most wouldn't know a Marxist from a Mormon."
She picked up her bottle again.
"Why are you here?" She continued.
"To see about getting my grandfather out from the ministry of internal affairs." I explained.
She was drunk.
She sat on the bed and her head fell forward until her chin rested on her chest, above her generous breasts. Then she toppled slowly onto her side.
"What are we going to do now?" I whispered to Louise.
"You saw what they did? Downstairs?" She stammered.
I held her close and spoke softly into her hair. I didn't need two women collapsing on me.
Ron held my hand between his and said all the things a member of the clergy should to comfort those in distress.
I knew there was nothing I could do. That Paul could look after himself. That he would probably have his grandfather out of prison by now and be waiting for the next plane out. I knew all that. But I was still worried.
He moved one hand and ran his fingers through my hair. His voice went on. A comforting voice. Gentle in its phrasing. Careful in its choice of words.
I stood up and took our teacups to the sink and placed them in the washing up bowl. I looked out past our two small outbuildings. Looked at our small garden. The gently sloping fields behind.
I heard his chair move. Was conscious of his standing close behind me.
I stood still as he placed his hands upon my hips. They moved up, beneath my arms and cupped my breasts. I could feel his chest against my back and his prick against my bum cheeks. I pushed back against it and wriggled from side to side.
"You have nothing to worry about Jenny." He said into the top of my head. "You'll see I'm right."
With him holding me like that I knew I had no need to worry. Paul and his grandfather would be all right. They would be home on Sunday.
His fingers were moving on my breasts. I could feel my nipples harden. His fingers move. Lifting at my thin sweater. I placed my hands upon his and stopped him. I felt him stiffen behind me and turned to face him.
I was an adult and I was going to act like one.
I looked up into his eyes. I could read a lot in them.
I would be an adult. Tell him to leave.
"Let's go to bed." I said.
"What are we going to do?" I asked Louise a second time. "We can't take her with us and I don't think we should leave her here alone."
Louise lifted her tear stained face and I kissed her lips without thinking.
She rested her head on my shoulder and I knew she was smiling.
"No, we can't leave her." Louise agreed.
There was a burst of shooting in the distance. Things were quieter on the streets now that it was daylight. Perhaps we could take the risk and leave her.
"Leave who?" Bill asked, struggling into a sitting position.
"We're off to the ministry." I said rather roughly. "Do you want to come?"
She looked around her living room as if realising it might be the last time she would see it like this. There were the sounds another burst of firing from outside.
"I'll come with you." She said, rising unsteadily to her feet.
We undressed standing side by side, neither talking and placed our clothes on the dressing room table chair.
The bedroom was already becoming quite dark with the lights out and the curtains pulled.
I allowed him to pull me to him. Felt his hard warm body press against me. His hands on the cheeks of my bum. My nipples against the hairs on his chest.