Death, Taxes and Nurses

"I do like these modern medical procedures," he said.

Melanie giggled.

"However, I've been thinking, Melanie. I don't want it to be only a medical procedure."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want it if it is just to keep warm."

Now it was Melanie who looked disappointed: an emotion she did not try to conceal.

He pushed back the sheets and stood up, offering her a hand to stand up as well. She got up, puzzled; even more so when Charles brought her hand to his lips. Looking solemnly at her, he declaimed:

"You might not believe that I love you, Melanie, because I have known you for only a few hours; but just as with art-works, I often fall instantly in love. I did so with Clara and, believe it or not, I have done so with you. No red-blooded male could not love your beauty but I also love your hidden intelligence, your wit, your way of teasing me, your charm and your liveliness. I also love you calling me 'Charlie'. Even my mother never calls me 'Charlie'. And I love the fact that you find me interesting. Not many people do."

"They don't see your passion, Charlie. If you looked at a woman the way you look at a painting, she would always find you interesting."

"So you believe me that I love you?"

"Yes, Charlie, I do."

Although Melanie had laughed at his demonstriveness, she was secretly touched and, to cover it up, continued:

"So, now you've finished being all formal, Charlie, will you hurry up and fuck me because I'm freezing my tits off here."

"I love you, Melanie," he said, seriously, "but you are a coarse little strumpet who deserves a good spanking."

"Now you're talking, Charlie, my boy," Melanie said, turning around and bending at the waist to present her bottom to him. "I hope you're not all talk and no action."

Charles smacked her bottom hard, the sound echoing around the vault.

"Ooh!" she exclaimed; but when there was no repeat she said "More, Charlie" and wriggled provocatively at him.

"Later," he said, "I think, for now, we should warm up other parts of you," and he clutched her to him, kissing her greedily, rubbing his hands over as much of her body and legs as he could reach.

While she was standing, he removed her skirt and knickers. They were no use to help warm her and were in the way of his hands and lips as he pursued the joy of stroking and kissing every inch of the gorgeous woman he loved.

They lay together on the bed again and he dragged the sheets back over them.

The temperature had been falling ever more quickly since night set in at six o'clock and it was now four degrees in the vault. The cold was noticeable whenever a limb protruded as they shifted position or when one of them got up to use the toilet but Charles did not let the cold worry him as he kissed his love from head to foot, en route taking his first taste of her pussy, sending ripples of joy through her straining body.

When Charles disengaged from kissing her pussy, he intended to undress and take her in earnest, but Melanie had an idea and, forcing herself to stop panting and calm down, stopped him by asking what the time was.

"It's nearly eleven o'clock, Darling."

"Good, then we should wait an hour."

"I can't wait an hour: not in the state you've got me into. Why do you want to wait an hour?"

"Don't you know what day it is?"

"February thirteenth."

"So that makes tomorrow ...?"

"February fourteenth," he answered factually. "So what?"

"Typical man! February fourteenth is Valentine's Day, silly."

"So it is. You think it would be more romantic if our first time was on Saint Valentine's Day?"

"Of course."

"All right, but what will we do for an hour?"

"The same as what we have been doing."

"I'm not sure I can hold off that long. I might be able to if I had an incentive, though. How about this: we play a game. I'll try to make you beg for it. If you give in before midnight, I win; if not, then you win. What do you think?"

"Sounds fun. What do I win?"

"Whoever wins gets to choose what we do all night. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

They did not go straight back to foreplay but lay side by side, holding each other and talking. Charles gradually added kisses and firmer touches and pretty soon Melanie was back on the boil, bucking and writhing under his touch. Because she put her hands in his trousers to stroke his cock, Charles had to hold her hands behind her back. He would easily have forfeited the game otherwise.

"Not fair, Charlie," she protested.

"Leave my dick alone, then."

"Okay," she agreed far too readily.

"I don't trust you," he said, and started sucking hard on her tit while vigorously rubbing her clitoris.

"Ahh! ... Oh, God!"

She gasped and bucked, losing herself in the delicious sensations of being restrained, suckled and fingered to ecstasy.

Charles alternated between sucking on her breasts and kissing her neck, shoulders and mouth, all the while either stroking her thighs, rubbing her clitoris or gently pushing a finger into her vagina. When Melanie came close to her release, Charles disengaged to let her calm down and started again a few minutes later.

Half-an-hour more of this treatment had tripped Melanie into a trance similar to the one she felt while looking at the snow-scene. Charles took his mouth and finger away from her, leaving her high and dry in her over-excited state.

"Oh, God! Charlie! ... Please, Charlie? ... Do it now! ... I can't take any more. ... Now, Charlie!" she pleaded between gasping breaths.

"You give in, then, Melanie. I've won?"

"Yes, Charlie. ... You've won. ... I give in."

With Melanie begging for it, Charles felt such a wonderful surge of power that he could not avoid wanting to exercise it. He would keep her on the boil some more, gently fingering her pussy.

"Now, Charlie ... I need it, now!" she implored.

"No." He was firm. "Not until you say you love me."

He returned to sucking her nipple.

"I ... Oh, God!. No! ... That's not fair, Charlie. ... No! Oh, God! I'm going to cum," at which he stopped sucking and removed his hand quickly from her groin.

"No!" she shrieked. "Charlie! No! ... Please fuck me!"

"Language, Strumpet! You have earned yourself another spank; and you still haven't said you love me."

When she had calmed down, he attended to her clitoris again, stroking around the over-sensitised organ, carefully keeping her on the edge of fulfilment. Melanie shut her eyes and moaned deep in her throat. She stopped trying to pull her arms from his grip but relaxed her struggles.

Charles could now use his other hand to fondle a ripe hard nipple. She squirmed. Her hands were flat on the cushions, her mouth open, her eyes rolled in her head and her tongue popped out.

Again he pulled back, frustrating her release. She moaned her disappointment.

"You've lost our game already, Melanie. You gave in and begged for it. You might as well concede entirely and admit you love me."

Moving sides while he waited for her answer, he suckled her right breast and put his left hand on her pussy, gradually building her tension again with his fingers. She arched and her breaths were gasps.

"I don't ... love ... you," she managed to say: "This is just ... Oh, no! ... just a way ... ahh! ... of keeping ... Oh, God! ... warm."

He squeezed her left nipple hard between thumb and forefinger.

"No! Ow! No, Charlie. ... Not fair ... Ow! Shit!"

But Melanie was ramming her pelvis into his hand, trying to envelop his fingers and get more friction. He removed his hand again and released her nipples from his fingers and mouth.

She writhed in frustration.

"Come on, Melanie. You want me in you. You said so. All you need to do is use the magic words. ... Just three little words, Melanie. ... They are easy to say."

"All right. All right. ... You win, Charlie ... I'll say them ..."

"Good. Go ahead."

She paused. Then:

"Charlie: ... Please fuck me."

She giggled when he got up, pretending to be cross and turned her over, pulling her onto all fours.

"All right, Strumpet, you asked for it."

He moved the paper sheets to expose her bottom and started spanking her. It was cold for him outside the sheets but the reward was a view of Melanie's bottom. The girl was as beautiful from behind as she was from the front, with delicious round buttocks and a succulent swollen pussy. Charles would have given in and taken her right then if it was not such fun to make her squeal.

Melanie squirmed adorably in response to his onslaught, which kept her on the edge of orgasm; yet frustration and sensual pain were working to undermine her defences. More strongly than ever, she needed him inside her and was considering saying she loved him just to make it happen, even if it was not really true. She certainly loved talking to him and she loved the fact that he took her seriously. She loved that he teased her back when she teased him and that he was so physical in sex. She needed something else, though, but was still not sure what it was.

Charles slowed his spanks in time with Melanie's arousal, as measured by her breathing, her moans and the dampness coating her labia. Her bottom was warm and pink now but her legs were cold. She didn't care: she barely noticed. Her mind was on her sexual release that was so tantalizingly close and, tantalizingly, in the hands of Charles, who cruelly kept it from her.

Charles stopped his spanking and ordered Melanie to lie on her back and spread her legs.

She obeyed dutifully, thinking that Charles could wait no longer. Charles told her to raise her knees and, again, she complied immediately. "At last!" she thought; but she was mistaken. Charles covered her with the papers and knelt with his head between her legs to lick her pussy again.

And yet, just as the first convulsions of a seismic orgasm threatened to banish all conscious thought, Melanie realized she had found the 'something else' she wanted from Charles before she could love him.

Previously, when Charles had asked her to assume a position, he had said 'please'. Now he had ordered her, as if she belonged to him, as if she had no choice; and she had complied automatically. This was what was missing: her sense of being possessed and of being commanded. She could fancy the reserved, polite Charles but it was the authoritative, masterful Charles that she loved.

"Stop, Charlie, please stop," she implored. "I'll say it for real, now ... I want to say it."

He pushed himself up her body and leant over her.

"Go on, then, say it," he ordered.

"I love you, Charlie."

She saw a look of joy on his face that no painter could capture and laughed her own joy in response.

"I love you, Melanie."

They kissed, their lips welded passionately together. When he came up for air, Charles looked at his watch.

"Two minutes to midnight, Melanie."

"Thank God! ... I'm close to bursting."

Charles stripped naked and lay on her, kissing her hard. She responded eagerly. When they broke the kiss, he checked the time again.

"Happy Saint Valentine's day, Darling."

As he lifted his pelvis from her, Melanie lowered a hand to guide his stiff cock. They kissed and she sucked on his tongue as he pushed firmly into her. They made love slowly at first, savouring the first sweet moments of coupling. When they quickened the pace, they did so together, as if reading each other's minds.

Melanie had been so near the edge that it did not take her long to succumb to a screaming orgasm. Her back arched and her legs shook as waves of pleasure cascaded around her body. A string of orgasms wracked her body arching her back again and again as Charles thrust relentlessly into her.

Her head was flung back as she convulsed. Charles was sucking on her chin and gripping a breast in his hand, squeezing the nipple. Her hands were on his back, her nails dug into his flesh, her legs wrapped around his waist.

He could hold off no longer. Another of her spasms brought on his own ecstatic release. He gasped out his love for her as his penis throbbed inside her vagina, gripped by her pulsating muscles.

Afterward, they rested, panting, side-by-side and shared their happiness in laughter, tender kisses and gentle strokes, until they were ready to go again.

Because he won the game, Charles had the choice of their next position. He ordered Melanie to sit astride him. She did so, riding him to a glorious fulfilment, shaking her blonde hair wildly.

Thus they played, talked and loved until three in the morning, when exhaustion claimed them. They slept in warm contentment, Charles holding Melanie possessively to him.

Casper Greenwood had slept all evening and night and woke early the next morning, before six o'clock. The first thing he saw was Elizabeth, calm and sad at his bedside. She had sat vigil in her chair all night, occasionally dozing. She wished him 'good morning', gave him a kiss and went to wake Kelly, who was sleeping on a bed next door. Assisted by a hospital nurse, Kelly came in to make Casper comfortable. He had a surge of energy and sent her to fetch Clara and the solicitor. Despite the early hour, Clara was already at the hospital, waiting outside the apartment, ready to attend his bedside. The solicitor was expected from London later in the morning.

Casper spoke to Elizabeth and Clara in a thin, reedy voice, interspersed with wheezing breaths; but he stubbornly insisted on completing what he had to say.

"Bessie, ... I want Clara to have a million dollars. ... It's to thank you, Clara. ... Now you hurry up and marry Hubert. ... Bessie, you tell my lawyer when he gets here, yes?"

"I will, Daddy," Elizabeth assured him. "I think it's already in the will; but, if it isn't, then I will see it's done."

Clara did not know what to say. She was red with embarrassment, not relieved even by Elizabeth patting her hand gently and smiling approval.

Casper tried to speak again.

"Please don't strain yourself, Daddy."

He persisted: "... my nurses ... they're to get something. ... Bessie, Clara, you treat them well. ... Give them a hundred-... dollars."

"A hundred dollars, Daddy? That's not much."

"A hundred-thousand dollars, Bessie."

"Very well, Daddy: A hundred-thousand dollars for Kelly and Melanie. ... You're the witness, Clara. It's not legally binding but I promise I will honour the bequest, even if I pay it myself."

Clara gasped. She had been stupefied since Casper had mentioned the entirely unexpected gift to her but on hearing the names of the nurses, she suddenly remembered Melanie and Charles were still locked in the vault. Clara collected herself and whispered to Elizabeth that she had to make an urgent telephone call. She would be back immediately.

She kissed Casper on the cheek, pressed his thin scaly arm in her delicate hands and ran quickly out of the room, dialling her mobile telephone as she went.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," she urged uselessly, pacing the corridor.

"Hello" a sleep-filled matronly voice eventually responded.

"Mildred! It's Clara. I locked Melanie and Charles Webster in the vault" then she remembered: "and (Oh God!) I turned the heating off. Please will you run and rescue them?"

"Now don't fret, Miss. I'll get them out and ring you when they are safe. Are you with Mr. Greenwood now."

"Yes, he's just woken up. He's very weak. Please hurry, Mildred."

"Right you are, chick. I'm hurrying."

Casper was asleep when Clara returned. Elizabeth and Clara wrote down what Casper had asked them. Elizabeth added that all the staff were to have generous gifts. They both signed the paper. It seemed the right thing to do, even if it was legally worthless.

When Mildred arrived at the front door of the mansion, there was a huddled form sitting under the portico, out of the cold rain and wind. It stood up when she arrived.

"Who are you?" Mildred demanded.

"I'm Jake."

"Jake who?"

"Jake Limes."

"Limes, eh? Then you'll be Melanie's younger brother. Are you looking for her?"

"Yes."

"Then come with me, Jake, she's in here and I may have some work for you."

Worried because Melanie had not arrived home last night, nor answered her mobile telephone, her parents sent Jake early in the morning to the mansion to ask after her. He had rung the bell for twenty minutes and then sat down to wait, not knowing what else to do.

Mildred unlocked the door and strode purposefully across the entrance hall and down the stairs to the vault. Jake lumbered obediently behind her.

She pushed open the vault door to reveal Melanie and Charles in their makeshift bed, soundly asleep in the freezing room. Melanie was huddled into his chest, his arms wrapped protectively about her. Only her blonde hair was visible outside the paper blankets.

Jake saw them over the head of Mildred and, with surprising agility in one so large, snuck past the housekeeper and in three strides was looming over them. He lifted Charles out of the bed with one hand and slammed the other into his face.

Poor Charles was precipitated from blissful sleep, through rude awakening to unconsciousness in a matter of seconds. He slumped, naked, onto the floor, his cheek beginning to swell, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"Jake, you fucking psychopath! What are you doing?"

Melanie was awake and furious. She scrambled around her brother to kneel by Charles and take his head in her arms. She didn't care that she was naked and freezing cold.

"Oh, God! Charles. Are you OK? Charles!"

He remained unconscious.

"Jake, if you've broken his jaw, I'll never speak to you again. What were you thinking?"

"Sorry, Mel. I lost it when I saw him cuddling you ..."

"This here is Charlie. He's my bloke, see? We love each other; though it ain't none of your business. You've no right thumping blokes 'cos they're in love with me!"

"Sorry, Mel..."

Mildred took charge.

"Jake Limes, go and wait in the corridor, where you can't do any more harm."

Jake stayed were he was. Mildred tapped her foot.

"I shan't tell you twice..." she said.

Jake obeyed and lumbered out.

"Melanie, it's freezing in here. We've got to get both of you warm. Do you think you can bring him 'round?"

"He's out cold, Mildred."

"All right, then. I'll get Jake to carry him upstairs. You rush off and fetch your medical kit. We'll meet in the first bedroom on the right. Okay?"

"Okay, Mildred. Thanks."

Melanie tenderly laid Charles' head down and got up, only then realising her state of undress. She found her skirt and the jumper, hurriedly put them on and ran along the corridor, telling Jake to obey Mildred as she passed him. She had not felt cold while she was angry but now she was shivering. Her teeth chattered as she ran.

Mildred ordered Jake to lift Charles up and follow her. Jake carried him as easily as a child, his head lolling on one side in Jake's arms. Charles had gone blue, except for his purple cheek.

Jake followed Mildred up the main staircase to the bedroom, where Melanie was waiting with her first-aid kit, shaking with cold. He laid Charles carefully on the bed and followed Mildred into the bathroom while Melanie examined Charles. Mildred started running a lukewarm bath and said to Jake:

"Watch the bath for me so it doesn't overflow. Can you do that?"

"Yes, mum."

"Good boy. I'll be back in a minute." She returned to the bedroom.

"How is he, Melanie?"

She had checked his pupils with a torch for concussion. He seemed all right and his jaw was not broken, though it would surely ache for a week.

"He'll live, no thanks to that great oaf."

"All right, let's get him warm now. Jake, come here and carry him into the bathroom."

He did so, with Melanie following. Mildred checked that the water was not too hot and allowed Jake to lower Charles gently into the bath.

"Jake, your job is to slowly drain the warm water from the bath and add hot water at about this rate."