The Touch Ch. 31

I let Caroline drive the conversation at her own pace, mostly we discussed her garden project, she genuinely did seem pleased with the progress so far and then moved on to her plans for a roof garden at her flat in London's prestigious St. James Park area and I finally let her pin me down to driving up to London the following Wednesday to take a look and give her an estimate for the roof garden design.

"Come up in the morning, we can look at the roof, talk about designs and then maybe get lunch somewhere," she suggested, "I may need to fly out to New York that evening and so we need to do it early in the day."

I finally raised the subject of her motor accident again.

"It was just bloody stupid.." she told me calmly, "I was pulling out of the service station and this fucking pratt in a red Jag hammers straight into the side of me from out of nowhere!" She took time to pour another glass of wine and then continued. "In the end silly old sod took total responsibility...turns out he was talking to the woman in the car with him, he just didn't see me," She gave a small ironic laugh, "How can you miss a bright yellow, stationary Lotus Elan? "

"Was anybody hurt at all?"

"No, but we had to wait almost an hour until Thames Valley Police turned up to take statements and make out an RTA report for the insurance claim. At least my car was drivable his was totally immobilised. We exchanged details, he is sales director of some sort of agricultural machinery company... he said his name was Bob Gregory or something... the arsehole actually tried to hit on me whilst we were waiting for the police, would you believe!"

"Oh, my God!" I blurted out totally unintentionally, and then added quickly to cover up my surprise, "How terrible."

She had got the name wrong, a red Jaguar, on the motorway to London on Friday evening, it wasn't Bob Gregory... it had to be Ben Gregory, Maggie's estranged husband, 'Ben the Bastard'. I took genuine spiteful pleasure in knowing that he had smashed up his precious car. I wasn't going to say anything to Caroline and I would decide later if I told Maggie, but I knew that the twins would think it hilarious when I told them.

"That wasn't the worst of it..." she added with an irritable edge to her voice, "When I eventually got home and telephoned my insurance broker he said he could do nothing about the claim until Tuesday because he was planning to have a couple of days holiday..... my firm puts a million pounds worth of business through him every year ... and he wants to take a fucking holiday, won't even make a couple of 'phone calls when I need him!"

Late on Friday evening I could see both points of view but I suspected that there was an insurance broker somewhere whose business was about to take a turn for the worse. I now at least knew why she had lashed out at me; the anger was probably the after effects of the adrenalin surge following the accident. Like most work-a-holics she had difficulty understanding that not everybody was committed to their work 24/7, I guess that I was probably the same much of the time.

By the time we had finished our dessert of poached pears in champagne; demolished a good portion of the cheese board and moved on to coffee and cognac, I realised that she was quite a gourmet and a seriously energetic eater and drinker. I had consumed only two goblets of the excellent red wine plus a small Remy and felt fine, but Caroline had imbibed the remainder of the three bottles of wine plus vintage port with the cheese then two very large brandies and was getting seriously pissed.

She was now happy, bubbly and was flirting with me outrageously her knee constantly rubbing against mine under the table and her fingers 'walking' up and down my arm as she talked, but she was definitely getting more and more drunk. I started to plan for either having to drive her home, or get a taxi if she refused to hand over her car keys.

In the end it was she who made the decision. She settled the bill using her Platinum Amex card but as we stood up to leave the table she lurched heavily against me.

"Christ Jamie," she slurred, "You've got me fucking shit-faced... " She fumbled in her handbag and held out the car keys, "You'll have to take me home... I'm tired and I want to go to bed..." she giggled and then draped herself over my arm for support.

When she hit the fresh air outside the hotel she was completely staggered, I was glad that it had stopped raining as it took me nearly five minutes to manoeuvre her into the passenger seat of the car and get the seat belt around her. She was as limp as a rag doll and I almost had to lift her into the car, her skirt rode up around her waist but I decided that I could live with that and she was past noticing.

"Don't like it this side....no steering wheel!" she slurred and then her head dipped and she fell asleep.

I climbed into the driver side, but being taller than her had to push the seat back a bit. Sitting in the low bucket seat of the Lotus was a bit strange at first and when I turned the key and toed the accelerator the powerful engine, roared and the rev counter went mad. I took a couple of seconds to acclimatize to the car's driving style and then drove off taking the whole journey really steady and not touching much more the 40 mph at any time. A banged up expensive sports car, driven by a young guy was just the sort of vehicle that would attract police attention on a Friday night and with Caroline drunk and passed out I didn't want to spend the night in a police station taking a blood test to prove that I was sober.

I pulled into her drive and stopped outside the front door, got out of the car opened the door and put on the lights, I was thankful that her house keys were on the same key fob as the car and I didn't have to search for them. She had given me a key to the back door but I had never used it and it was locked in the safe at the office.

It was a struggle to get her out of the car and into the house, she was only half awake and could only stand if I supported her and so I just got her into the house and sat her in the hall on the bottom of the staircase, then went out, drove the Lotus into the garage and locked the door. Her other car, the big BMW was not in the garage and I remember wondering how she had worked the logistics of getting both cars in London at the same time, perhaps she had come down by train during the week and driven back?

When I got back into the house she had woken up again and was trying to climb the stairs on her hands and knees, she looked ridiculous and undignified scrambling on all fours with her knickers showing, very scanty black lace knickers and I chuckled quietly to myself as I hung my jacket on the banister knob and then looped an arm around her to help her the rest of the way up.

"Need to pee..." she slurred and waved a limp hand at what was obviously the bathroom door. I got her into the bathroom; it had very modern green marble and gold patterned tiles floor to ceiling, with a bath, separate shower cabinet, a corner hand basin and twin toilet and bidet. Then I was stumped, I really did not know what I should do next, she did seem a bit steadier but I wasn't sure how much help she would need. Then she was leaning against me, her hands on my shoulders and smiling into my face. "Go away.... I need to pee...privately... I can manage, honestly..."

I left her and closed the door and then investigated the bedroom. It was a large studio style bedroom which occupied nearly the entire upper floor except for the narrow landing, the bathroom and a narrow flight of stairs that I guessed led to a loft conversion box room. There were large picture windows at both ends of the room, overlooking the street at the front and the garden at the rear, both with plain cream Venetian blinds which I twisted into the closed position. Two of the walls were completely taken up with expensive fitted wardrobes with a vanity unit set into one and a double divan bed the other with built in side lockers and concealed lighting above the bedhead which I switched on and then killed the overhead lights. The bed was dressed with a frilled cream covered duvet and matching pillow cases and there was a black flimsy embroidered negligee laid out on the turned back side of the bed and small silver mule slippers at the side.

I went back to the bathroom and listened at the door, I could hear her moving about and it sounded as though she was washing her hands or brushing her teeth, so I slipped downstairs and shut the front door then returned just as I heard the flush and the door opened and she fell straight out into my arms. She was wearing only her black lace strapless bra and panties and her generous breasts felt soft and warm against my chest whilst her naked waist was cool and smooth beneath my hands as I tried to support her. I was just glad that she didn't appear to be one of those girls who threw up when they got rat-arsed.

"Fuck, I am soooooo pissed!" she giggled. She looped her arms around my neck and pressed her lips against my throat in a wet fumbling kiss. "I like you Jamie...but I am so tired... want to sleep... really, really want to sleep..." she mumbled and then slumped against me again and would have dropped to the floor if I hadn't still had my arms around her waist.

I half carried, half walked her to the bed and sat her down on the edge, she was semi-awake again and seemed capable of supporting herself and so I stood back to give her space. She looked really hot and sexy sitting there in her expense lingerie, her make-up was still intact, her hair was a flowing golden fountain around her bare shoulders and her red lips were pouty as she smiled up at me. She looked sexy but she seemed more vulnerable and innocent than when she was fully awake and sober, this was not the efficient hard-arsed business woman image that Caroline presented to the world. I felt that I was getting a privileged glimpse of the real woman beneath that public veneer.

Suddenly she had twisted and unhooked the bra and flung it across the room, then seemed to notice me for the first time and folded one arm across her breasts to try and cover the dark aureolas and firm large nipples which I had glimpsed in that few seconds, they appeared to already be stiffened and engorged... probably the flush from the alcohol.

She waved her other finger at me, "No peeping!" she tittered as she fumbled around on the bed with the other hand and then looked up at me pouting.

"Nightie...put my nightie on..." She said woozily and then started to really giggle again, "I don't mean I want YOU to put it on.... I meant I want you to put in on ME!"

I scooped up the flimsy nightdress and held it out to her, "I don't think it would fit me." I chuckled.

She pushed it away, "NO! I don't want to do it..." she pouted like a petulant school girl, "I want you to help me for fuck sake!"

I knelt down in front of her and rolled the negligee up and worked it over her head pulling her soft hair out and free and then she was forced to raise her arms to find the sleeve holes and her gorgeous breasts swung free and bounced temptingly in front of me, but with a great effort and despite the stirring which was beginning in my trousers, I overcame my temptation and pulled the nightdress down as far as I could and then quickly swept my arm up under her legs and swung her round until she was laying flat on the bed and then flicked the cover over her.

"Go to sleep now Caroline," I said gently, "I will call you in the morning to make sure you are up before I come over."

"NO!" she suddenly said very firmly. "You aren't going yet.... I haven't finished with you yet... " she slurred sleepily. I was still kneeling by the side of the bed and she reached out and hooked her hand behind my neck pulling my face close to hers. She was pouting again and looked very alluring and I would be lying if I said that I wasn't seriously tempted to try my luck; but I didn't seduce or shag girls when they were drunk, it wasn't fun and it wasn't fair and it ALWAYS had repercussions.

"You need to sleep," I said and just kissed her very lightly on the cheek, a chaste friend's kiss.

"Can't sleep!" she pouted her voice husky and pleading, "Not if you go... just stay with me for a little while, 'til I fall asleep. Lay here beside me," she patted the empty side of the bed. She sounded small and lonely. She had wealth, position, power and I knew that she dated sometimes, but even people with all of that could still be laid low by bouts of loneliness.

"OK, just until you get to sleep," I said and walked around to the other side of the bed, kicked off my loafers and made to lie down on top of the duvet.

"Oh for fuck sake, Jamie!" she whined, "Just take your bloody togs off and get into the bed...!"

This was almost like trying to get a kid to go to sleep I thought, but if I didn't do what she wanted then she would probably make a noisy fuss and go off on one again. I switched off the over bed light and then stripped down to my boxers and slipped beneath the cover, the sheets were smooth and cool. I was getting tired myself and an hours rest would not go amiss and that bed felt terrific.

Caroline had rolled over closer and was facing me her eyes half closed and flung one arm over my chest. "That is nice, you are very comfortable....I mean comforting...I think," she murmured and gave a little giggle. Her eyes fully open for a moment and locked onto mine, "I'm not going to fuck you, not tonight! I may be an Essex Girl but I'm not a tart!" she said very clearly, "We can just stay like this, OK."

I just lay still watching her face until she drifted into sleep, her golden hair spread out on the pillow framing her face and her red lips puckering and trembling slightly with each tiny almost silent snore.

After about fifteen minutes I started to sidle over to get off of the bed but her eyes fluttered and her fingers scrabbled lightly at my chest, "Noooooo!" she breathed sleepily and so I lay back down.

I awoke and looked at my watch, it was ten past four, I had slept for about four hours. Caroline was still beside me, I could feel the heat from her body warm against my arm. She had obviously got hot during the night and had flung off the cover and was laying with her knees curled up almost in the foetal position, her nightdress had ridden up to her waist and one tit had fallen out of the top, it was white and round with the nipple and aureola seeming to be very dark in the moonlight filtering in through the blinds.

I took a chance and very gently touched my lips to that soft globe. She gave a very faint moan but carried on sleeping soundly. I edged carefully out of the bed and gathering up my clothes and crept down the stairs and got dressed in the hall. There was little point in trying to call a taxi at this hour, it would probably be another hour before one arrived and I could walk home in less time and so I quietly and carefully closed and locked the door and pushed her keys back through the letter box and then started off up the road.

It had obviously rained heavily again during the night but there were now patches of clear sky with the stars bright and sparkling and an almost full moon. It took me just over 45 minutes to walk home. I took a cold bottle of Fanta from the fridge and went up to my room and stripped down to my boxers again, I wasn't going to bother with my sleeping shorts for just a couple of hours.

The night had turned hot and humid again and so I lay on the top of my bed with my cold drink and a cigarette, to think about the day, and about Caroline Brookes, I really had to admit that I had enjoyed her company but overall I guess that the evening would best be described as interesting. Her body was hot, definitely very desirable and I suppose that if I had really pushed it I could probably have got to screw her, but I was glad I didn't, I think she had put me on some sort of a promise...."I'm not going to fuck you, not tonight!" she had said and that sort of implied that maybe she would some other time.

I must have been really tired because thinking about Caroline had started to make me horny which normally keeps me awake but I dozed off anyway and awoke with a start when my alarm went off at six-thirty.

Emma was not in work on Saturday it was her day off and she was spending it at the Shelby riding stables, she now spent a lot of her spare time helping Janice and in return Philippa Shelby let her come and go as she pleased and allowed her to ride free and gratis. She wanted to be there early and so I had agreed to drop her off on my way into the garden centre. The car radio announced that the weather was expected to be dry and somewhat warmer all day.

As I pulled up the drive I could see Philippa standing in the stable yard talking to one of the young girls who helped out at weekends. She had asked me to call in and see her several days ago and so I decided that this was probably a good opportunity before the stables got busy for the day and pulled into the car park and walked over whilst Emma trotted off and disappeared into the tack room.

I watched her from behind, the tight jodhpurs clung to her legs and flat arse very attractively; eating well, working out occasionally with Kitty and riding two or three times a week had turned what had been skinny matchsticks into a very shapely pair of legs, I had to admit that my sister was getting to be a desirable and attractive young woman. I tore my mind away from thoughts about Emma, I was getting them far too often just recently, it was a dangerous train of thought to be riding.

Philippa had finished talking and came over to where I was waiting. She was dressed, as usual in tight grey riding breeches above polished black leather boots which clung to her generous hips and buttocks and her very long, strong, muscled legs. Her firm pointy breasts pushed out the front of the short sleeved, pink and blue cotton twill riding shirt which was tucked into her belt emphasising her narrow waist.

"Hello, Jamie," she smiled, "I was beginning to think that you were avoiding me."

"I've just been a bit busy..." I apologised lamely, "But I'm here now...is this a good time to talk about the work you want done to your garden?"

She peered at the large man's style sports watch on her wrist. "I've got about an hour before my first class this morning... so let's go up to the house and I'll show you around my wilderness..." She led off towards the big house where she lived, "Christ, I hate Saturdays, " she laughed, "A full day of under seven beginners and junior classes with snotty nosed spoiled little brats running about everywhere whining and screaming!"

"Yes, I remember it well," I sympathised. Philippa had never been keen on taking the classes of younger children and even years ago had foisted a lot of the routine stuff onto her older more talented students, Emma had enjoyed it but I would rather be cleaning tack or mucking out stalls....small kids bothered me... it wasn't that I actively disliked them, I just didn't find them cute and they just made me nervous, I didn't know what to talk to them about, they were always snivelling or asking questions and seemed to remember everything they had seen or heard and store it all up to drop you in the shit later. I guessed that I might feel differently in years to come if I ever had to bring up a child of my own, but that did not seem very likely if the cost of a family was having to give up Gwen.

"I am just so glad that I have Janice, she is a first class head stable girl, and Emma really helps a lot too.....are you sure that you don't want to sack her so that she can come and work for me full time?" she teased. We had reached the house and she led me around to the rear, past the old kitchen door which led to her shower room and then stopped so that I could see the extent of the large garden area which she had described as her wilderness.