A New Georgy-Girl Ch. 02 - Georgy and Me

The idea definitely resonated with me; my only caveat was if we remanufactured the doors then they had to be made out of old, seasoned, reclaimed wood; I wasn't prepared to go with things like MDF or modern resin particle board, either; I wanted these doors to be made of the kind of figured, stained, deeply-waxed and polished wood the eventual owners' great-great-grandchildren would be running their fingers over and treasuring 100 years from now, not modern, lashed-up phonies. Luckily Georgy was in complete agreement with me; a house this age and quality needed sympathetic restoration, not a quick lick of paint and temporary modern fixes.

Period floorboards and wood panelling were readily available, we could make the doors out of that supply of aged, seasoned Oak, Deal, and Walnut for one-tenth of what it would cost to get them custom made from modern, newly felled and kiln-seasoned wood; it's almost impossible to fake a genuine-seeming aged appearance with new wood, no matter how meticulously one sands, fills, stains, and French-polishes it, and the market we were aiming at would know the difference.

Same thing went for the wainscoting; Georgy was raring to make it, she knew how to do it now, and she had her own ideas how and where to install it to suggest the elegant Period grandeur of the house in its hey-day

Seeing the mischievous pixie grin when she made any suggestions kind of made me forget about house renovations and concentrate on her. I know I've said it before but damn, in painter's overalls and safety goggles and her cute yellow safety helmet she was just about the most adorable thing I'd ever seen, and with power tools in the mix too? There's a reason tool manufacturers have pretty girls in big, clunky boots and safety goggles posing with demolition hammers and chop-saws at the trade shows, and if she persisted in being so bloody sexy then I was going to keep on downing-tools so I could partake of her, screw work in progress; my game, my rules, my Georgy.

Taking her home each evening after a satisfying day of working with her and watching her create was just the perfect topping to my day; Georgy and I never worked at cross-purposes, never argued, everything we did was with the knowledge the other was completely on-board with it; it was strange, like we were joined together at the mind, whatever she liked, I liked, whatever she wanted to do, I already knew I wanted to do that too. As always, watching her diligently measuring, cutting, milling, routing, re-measuring and dry-fitting like she'd been doing it every day of her life enthralled me. She'd look up and see me admiring her and give me that smile, and suddenly the whole day came into focus, with her smile all I needed to make my day compete.

Like the other day for instance, when we'd finally got the supply agreement from Severn Trent Water nailed down, and she'd spent the day with their groundworks people mapping and marking out the trenching for the soil and clean water mains and looking bloody sexy while she did it, too. Just watching her being so damned good at what she was doing, the only thing I could think of was her, how happy she looked with the work she was doing and the skills she'd acquired, but overriding all that was how much I wanted her. Keeping my hands off her all day was a major issue, and I mostly wasn't successful, but we managed to limit our trysts to the 'mostly not-naked' variety, just heated kissing, grinding, and some surreptitious groping.

However, walking in the door back at home meant the time for restraint was gone, the gloves were off and we both knew it! Aunt Kay had gotten used to our shenanigans at day's end; we made sure we didn't disrespect her in any way, but damn, after a long day watching Georgy and wanting Georgy it was hard to not just grab some Georgy and start what I knew was going to end well, and Aunt Kay made allowance for that and discreetly made herself scarce.

First came the chase; Georgy raced shrieking and giggling up the stairs with me in hot pursuit, followed by the tackle, where we somehow managed to land in the middle of that huge bed, followed by the tickle-battle. Georgy is incredibly ticklish, and I just love finding new places to touch, stroke, nuzzle, lick, kiss, or caress, and see how much it made her giggle and squirm, all of which ramped-up my libido to boiling point. After I'd thoroughly enjoyed exploring all her ticklish zones then I moved on to unbutton those sexy painter's overalls (okay, she made them sexy, but you know what I mean...) so I could slide my hands inside and squeeze her lovely firm, muscular little bum and jiggle those golden globes while she squirmed and wriggled and ground against me as we kissed like newlyweds.

After that, sliding her out of her clothes so I could feast on her nakedness was all that was left to do, and I took my time, because peeling a peach like Georgy out of her clothes was never going to be a quick yank and off they come; oh no, I had to slowly, teasingly strip her, so I could kiss and lick and caress her some more and reduce her to a panting, giggling, mewling mass of Tyler-neediness so I could pounce on her properly. I'd like to say that at this point she should probably have been defending her honour against my ravages, but that would be untrue, because what she was really doing was undoing my jeans and grabbing my cock which, thanks to her nearness and just being Georgy-hot, was at full stretch and begging for her.

"OOHH, look what I found!" she gasped, all wide-eyed and innocent, licking her lips and squeezing me, biting her lip as my cock pulsed in her hand. "Wow, Willie, I do believe this thing's alive, what do you think I should do with it?" squeezing and slowly fisting me while my eyes crossed with the effort of trying to back down from what she was doing to me.

"Use your imagination, Katy-May!" I grinned, daring her to try something new. With Georgy, the way to get her to do something is to dare her, she can't resist a challenge, and from the look in her eyes I knew she was going to go all-out to pick up that gauntlet.

Her eyes sparkled mischievously, and she lowered her head, kissing my chest, soft, delicate little brushes, before kissing further down, along my abs, and past my navel. She looked up at me and I just grinned, but inside I was praying 'please God, please, this time, eh? Just this one time...' and then I gasped as her tongue tip flicked over the swollen crown of my rampant cock and rasped ever so gently over the furrow in the end, making my whole nervous system light up like a Christmas tree.

"Yesss!" I groaned as she slowly slipped her luscious lips over the end of my cock and sucked, just the merest suctioning, but it felt like nothing I'd ever experienced. I was in a daze; Georgy, my beautiful Georgy-Girl, was sucking my cock, a first for her, and doing a cracking good job of it too...

She got into her rhythm, head bobbing as she loved my cock, her lips sealed around me and her tongue lashing the tip and probing behind the crown, tasting and polishing me all at once, and I was in a seriously good place, getting the best head in the world from the hottest girl in the world, so much so that when she pulled away I actually cried out in disappointment.

"Nuh-uh, Tyler, your turn!" she grinned, "I showed you mine, now you show me yours! You ready for this soldier-boy?"

Fuck was I ready! I pulled her over me, positioning her over my mouth, enjoying immensely the thrill and shudder that ran through her with my first gentle kiss on her sweet, succulent little muff, the luscious feel of her silky hairs against my tongue, and the smooth, sleek muscularity of her long thighs as I gently probed her with my tongue-tip, breathing her in as her arousal ramped-up, her sweet, tangy scent gusting over me.

Georgy gasped softly the first time I pushed my tongue between her labia, which flowered open beneath my probing, her scent growing stronger, sweet and earthy and musky and delicious as I worked her up, and when she took me in her mouth again I almost passed out from the shock of pleasure that zinged straight up my spinal cord and into the deepest core of my brain.

We played like this for I don't know how long, taking each other to the brink and backing down again and again, learning what the other liked and sneaking it in to enhance our love-play, until finally I pulled her closer to me and rubbed and lashed her clitoris with the flat of my tongue. Georgy screamed deep in her throat as she came like a freight train, her sweet, tangy juices surged, filling my mouth, my head with her perfume, and exciting me even further with the taste of her even as her powerful thighs clamped tightly around my head.

I couldn't hold back any longer, it was finally too much for me, and I came with a guttural roar, my cock pulsing in her mouth as bolt after bolt of spunk flooded her mouth, while she sucked and swallowed and fisted me, milking every last drop out of me and polishing the head of my cock clean of every trace of my soul-shivering climax.

Georgy rolled off me, her muscles twitching in a surging tide of adrenaline, aftershocks quivering through her. I was in no better condition, shattered to the point of utter exhaustion by such a mind-blowing climax; it was all I could do to muster up enough strength to pull her to me, into the shelter of my arm, and that's all she wrote.

*****

I woke with a start, a momentary disorientation making me wonder what time it was; the sun didn't have that morning, white-golden quality, and when I looked at her, Georgy was wide awake, her eyes soft and gently amused.

"Georgy, what... "I began and she smiled.

"It's just after seven, Will, you've been out like a light for almost two hours. Better get a shower, babe, Aunt Kay says dinner is in forty-five minutes, we need to clean up a little."

I yawned and stretched mightily, before wrapping an arm around her.

"Cuddle first, then shower, okay? C'mere, you..." Georgy smiled and huddled up against me, her arm around my waist and her lips in the hollow of my neck as I in turn grazed on her neck. I could have lain like that the rest of the night, but Aunt Kay was holding dinner on us so I had to get up, more than a little regretfully, get showered, and go down to dinner. Georgy showered with me, and while there were lots of opportunities and several blatant invitations to indulge in a little hanky-panky, my battery was flatter than a witch's tits; a large portion of steak, fried potatoes and greens, and steamed plum pudding with custard was the best way to recharge it, thankfully that was exactly what Aunt Kay had cooked.

All in all, we were as happy as we could be, doing something we loved, that was actually fun, and might even make us some money. Life was good, and getting better, until the day it became not a game, and reality bit us hard. Every bottle of Mezcal has a worm, to show it's real, ours had a poisonous fucking maggot, and it was about to show its teeth...

*****

It began, as all these things do, innocently enough. Georgy had gone home ahead of me to go through some paint swatches from one of the specialist suppliers, and I was busy buttoning-up the house at end of day, checking the doors and windows were all locked, the power tools were unplugged, and the tool chests and vaults were locked and secured when I heard the rumble of thunder. My ears pricked up; Georgy was at home with Aunt Kay, but thunder; she was going to need me post-haste, this was the one thing she had no defences against.

I went to unplug the battered old site radio, and switched it on to hear the national news headlines. I'd stopped switching it on while I was working, I'd only ever bought it to keep me company while I was working alone, and now Georgy was with me every day, I didn't need the background noise to break the silence. Anyway, I switched it on to catch the news headlines and my blood froze; the top story was about a jailbreak that morning at Long Lartin prison in Worcestershire, not that far from us, a category A prison where they stashed violent predators and murderers, and the names of the four men who'd managed to escape while being readied to transfer to another high-security prison in Yorkshire; Max Preece was one of the names, and there was no news of his whereabouts, or any of the others, just a note that they were considered extremely dangerous and were not under any circumstances to be approached if spotted.

Shit, he'd been out for a whole day now, he could be anywhere, all the more reason to hurry home, Georgy was alone with Aunt Kay, that fucker had a major axe to grind and he probably knew how to get into the house undetected. I rang Georgy's number and she answered almost immediately.

"Georgina here, hello Tyler, dinner will be ready soon, hurry home." she answered, her voice steady, but my heart sank; she was in trouble; "Georgina" was her duress-code, telling me that things were bad, and "hurry home" was code for 'be really careful when you come in.' Smart girl for keeping so cool and remembering our codes for trouble at home after the last time.

I tried to drive into the main gates as unhurriedly as possible, even as more and louder peals of thunder rolled and crashed; I didn't know who might be watching, and I couldn't afford to tip them off, even as I worried how Georgy was coping with the terror of her thunder phobia and whatever else was going on in the house, so I parked in my usual slapdash manner and ran into the house.

"Georgina?" I called, and I heard her replying from upstairs.

"We're all up here, Tyler, in the double bedroom."

OK, we didn't have any double bedrooms on the first floor in that part of the house, so she was telling me there were two people up there with her and Aunt Kay. Bugger, two of them, maybe armed, and waiting for me. What's the betting one of them was that fat little rat-shit bastard Max? I had no option now but to go up there and spring their trap, they had my Georgy, and I knew what Max wanted to do to her. I couldn't let that happen; one way or another, that little puke was going to die.

I bounded up the stairs as the thunder rolled and boomed even louder.

"Georgy? Are you okay? Hang on, I'm coming, where are you?" I called out and "I'm in here, Tyler" came from our open bedroom door. I pushed the door open and paused in shock, caution forgotten, at the sight of Georgy with her arm held behind her back by a scruffy, unshaven little man in nondescript jeans and sweatshirt, and Aunt Kay lying unconscious on the floor, a huge bruise discolouring her cheek and eye-socket, and blood seeping from her split lip. Georgy's eyes flew wide open just as I sensed someone behind me, and then my world dissolved in a blinding purple flash of pain and the taste of brass, then darkness.

Someone was shaking me, I must have slept in, God, don't say I missed 'The Rouse', I thought disjointedly, I was in for the high jump now, while other scattered thoughts warred for my attention; I was due out on patrol, or I'd just come back in from patrol, time and events shuffling randomly, friends and other familiar voices echoed and buzzed in my head, a sudden, dreadful sense of loss when I thought of dad, a random thought that the big guns were really having a field day judging by the continuous loud rumbling, and over all of it a terrible pain in my head.

"Been shot..." I remember thinking, and feeling nauseous, and when I opened my eyes my vision was blurred and doubled; I was home, how? The last thing I remembered with absolute clarity was bugging out after my Scimitar FV107 ARV got targeted and popped by a three-way RPG strike, one glanced off but the other two were bang on, the three of us bailing at warp-speed before we brewed up with it, ducking behind some rocks to weapons-check and count ammunition for the risky trek back to the Bastion, then suddenly Georgy, all grown-up and teary-eyed, rubbing my face and kissing my forehead.

"You didn't have to hit him so hard, you fucking piece of shit!" she screamed, and stumbled back as a man's hand backhanded her, dropping her on top of me. Georgy scrambled around to glare with murderous hatred at someone standing out of my line of sight, her face pink where she'd been struck.

"Hit me all you want, you pathetic little turd, you'll never be a man, just a pointless, disgusting, fat little loser, you had to hit Will from behind because you're a cowardly little shit-stain who couldn't be a man with lessons and a lottery win! Watching Will kick shit out of you made my bloody day, you greasy little shitbag!"

A man hove into my line of sight, and it took a moment for me to realise through my blurred vision and the ringing in my head that it was indeed Max, and he looked dreadful, which cheered me no end; obviously being the prison's blow-up doll agreed with him. His face writhed with hate and fury as he loomed over Georgy.

"Your fucking brother deserved it, you little slut! He sent me to that place, he fucking owes me, this whole family owes me, so you pay up, NOW!"

"Fuck you!" screamed Georgy, "no-one owes you anything, you're just a criminal scumbag, I hope you die of AIDS in prison, you fat little fuckup!"

I tried to struggle to my feet, but any slight movement set my head ringing like a fire-bell all over again and waves of nausea shuddered through me. In a detached sort of way I clocked the spreading puddle of blood on the rug under my face, and heard a snuffling sound that I realised was me, breathing through the blood pouring and bubbling from my nose, and a warm itchy tickle on my neck as blood dripped from my ear.

Max reached down and grabbed Georgy's arm, yanking her to her feet.

"Come with me, you little slut, you're going to show me where the old bitch stashed the money or you're fucking dead! I know she took the money and jewels out of Coutt's, I saw the paperwork, it's all here somewhere, and you're going to show me where, or that idiot brother of yours dies, you listening?"

He shook her like a terrier shakes a rat, and his accomplice, partner, whatever, kicked me in the ribs, setting off a whole new jangling cacophony in my head.

Max dragged Georgy out of the room, I could hear him talking, ranting, and shouting at her getting fainter as they moved down the corridor toward the back stairs. I knew this was bad, Georgy was in danger, and I was injured, but I had to do something, anything. I'd been trained in one-on-one unarmed combat, but I didn't think my instructors were thinking about fighting off escaped convicts in a stately home, and I couldn't think straight, all I could concentrate on was dealing with the man watching me, straining against the noise in my head to think of some way to neutralise him. And then it came to me, so simple, one of the first things our instructors had shown us. I had to try it, and I'd only get one chance, so it had better work.

To think was to act, so I rolled on my back with a groan more heartfelt than phony, getting a good look at the skinny, spindly, shaven-headed scum bag who'd come uninvited into my house to hurt me and mine. As soon as I moved, he dropped to his knees, maybe he thought he was going to restrain me, but when he reached for me I grabbed his arm and yanked him closer, unbalancing him. The pain in my head was enormous, I really thought I was going to pass out, but I gritted my teeth; that fat fucker had injured me, but I wasn't dead yet, and his mate was going to pay.

Catching him by surprise was the only reason it worked; as he sprawled across me, I wrapped my arms around his head and clamped hold; he barked in surprise and tried to struggle away, but I had tight hold of him. All I could concentrate on was what my instructor had drilled into me: 66 pounds, it only takes 66 pounds to snap a man's neck, more if he's struggling, so do it quickly, before he realises what you're doing.