French Awakenings Pt. 07

His laptop bleeped and presented half a page of data with a location at the bottom.

"There you go, some little scrote in Minsk just tried to hack us. I'm going to hit him with a DOS bombardment and while he's flapping about that I'll slip in under his radar and download his hard drive, then I'll delete the little fucker."

He started punching his keyboard while Darren looked on in awe, no one else had a clue what was happening, but they could tell they should be impressed so made appropriate noises. Considering they spent so much time faking passion you'd think they'd be better at pretending to be amazed, but no they just sounded like me when someone starts talking about cars.

Twenty minutes later he sat back with a smug look and asked, "Does anyone have a good reason I shouldn't wipe out his system?"

The only concern expressed was Sandy who worried that there might be some comeback, but once Chris explained that by deleting the system, he was also deleting any record of our virtual visit and it was actually safer for us than not deleting it, she was on board. With a smile and a wink Chris announced "We are live on set. Action in 5,4,3" he held up 2 fingers then one and pointed at Sandy, then the return key on his laptop. She caught on straight away and with a click unleashed retribution on the Belarusian would be gangster, who in about two minutes was going to find his computers were expensive bricks.

Chris and Darren reconnected the two Dreamtime laptops but Chris explained he couldn't re-establish the link until someone physically switched on the machines in LA.

Jamie was being all decisive and Chief Exec-y. He checked his watch and announced "It's mid-morning in LA, I'll get Lou in there. Chris, that's twice you've pulled our asses out of the shit, Three if we include Nicola and Jane covering our Occ Health. I owe you, we all owe you. I will always be around if you need anything."

Chris doesn't do emotional stuff like that, I could see he was squirming inside but didn't want to spoil the moment because he knew how much it meant to them all, also they are American and like all that touchy feely stuff.

"Thanks Jamie, I appreciate it. If you can all excuse me, I want to start reviewing the contents of Boris's hard drive, you never know what he may have in there." With that he turned back to his laptop, I recognised the body language, he was stuck in there now for hours. I have actually tried fellating him as a distraction when he's been that engrossed before and I'm sorry to say I was not successful. Rather than re-enact my failure I kissed the top of his head and left him to it, telling him:

"I'll sleep in the spare room here tonight hun, don't wake me up and I'll see you in the morning."

He looked round. "Mm? Oh yes. Right, I'll be in the office downstairs" and he was off and gone.

The performers all went to get showered and dressed, the rest of us sat around looking a bit nonplussed. Deecee broke the silence. "Cocktails" he called, looking at Jane. She tried to seem stern but failed. "OK, you've all been very good with the diet and keeping off the sauce, you're allowed a cocktail evening. I'll have a White Russian. So will Nicola."

Deecee turned out to be a very accomplished cocktail mixer, he let slip he'd worked in a bar in San Diego for a year after he left the ballet and before he got into the Erotic movie game.

The rest of the crew drifted back, Darren kept looking out of the window until I made a mug of tea and gave it to him to take to Chris. "Go and play computers with my husband, see if you can get more sense out of him than I can when he's in the zone like that."

Bless him, he virtually skipped across, carrying a mug of tea in one hand and a coke in the other.

In the absence of Darren, Paul and Charley did the cooking as a pair, Jane calling out instructions as she got more sozzled on White Russians, this may come as a surprise, but she wasn't the only one.

The food was delicious, and it wasn't just because I was squiffy, everyone said so. I plated up a couple of meals and was struggling to open the door and carry them over when Charley called out that she'd help and walked over with me.

I started thinking about how engrossed Chris got in work and how I failed so dismally to distract him which set me off giggling, which set Charley quizzing me, which meant I had to 'fess up.

She dug an elbow into my side. "He wouldn't ignore me." She was giggling as badly as me now.

I'd had three White Russians, so my judgement may have been slightly off focus. "Right. Prove it then." I retorted. I was barely holding it all together by this point and the thought of my husband being distracted by this blonde beauty giving him a blowjob was suddenly the funniest thing in the world.

We opened the office door, Darren and Chris barely registered us coming in, so deeply were they concentrating on the screen. We stood and watched for a minute or two, Chris would point at something and explain what it meant, Darren was fascinated, making notes in a pocketbook.

I nudged Charley, who giggled again and got down on her knees, crawling across the floor and under the desk where the the two men were seated, looking towards me she reached up and unzipped the shorts in front of her nose, pushing her hand inside and pulling put a flaccid cock. With a flick of her tongue, she scooped the head into her mouth and shutting her eyes she ran her lips down the shaft until it was entirely contained. I could see movement through her cheeks, I guessed she was giving him a passionate licking in an effort to induce an erection. After a minute or two she withdrew her head, he was clearly bigger than when she'd started, big enough that she could hold the base in her fist and bob her mouth up and down, as he grew to his maximum size, she gave a small moan of enjoyment.

Something must have penetrated Chris's consciousness because he suddenly stopped and looked down, complaining "Nicola, I'm busy. Can you not do that right now?" He gave a double take. "Charley? What are you..."

The blonde girl smiled up at him. "Nicola told me she couldn't distract you, not even with oral, I told her I could, and she asked me to prove it. Now sit back and let me finish." With that she pushed her mouth back over the purpley-red head. Running her tongue around the ridges with relish.

To my delight Chris pushed his chair back and stood up, tucking his erection back into his fly. " No, I'm in the middle of something. Can we do this later please?"

Charley crawled out, pouting. "Seeing as you said please I'll let you. Can we do it tomorrow?"

Chris nodded, I'm not convinced he knew what he was agreeing to, "Yes, yes. Tomorrow. Now can I get back to work?"

Both of us were amazed at his self-control and focus, as we walked back across towards the main building, I broached the subject "When you said 'Can we do it tomorrow?' did you mean giving Chris a BJ or were you talking about a erm...."

That English embarrassment again. Charley finished it for me "A three way? Yeah, sure that would be good. I'd be into that."

Awkwardly I muttered, "It's a date then." Inwardly I was having a bit of a struggle, I'd been saying to myself I was up for a bit of girl power but that was in the privacy of my shower and talking to my reflection, now it was looking like a reality I was less confident.

We walked on in silence for a few more paces, then I chuckled and said "Told you. He's impossible to distract when he's that engaged." She tried to claim he thought it was me, which I countered by saying that meant she was no better at it than I was, and he couldn't tell the difference. By the time we walked back into the living room we were having a good-natured argument about our oral dexterity.

I called for independent verification, "Paul, Deecee, Mike, who's better at blowies? Me or Charley?"

confusion broke out amongst the guys, so we had to explain, including our mutual humiliation in trying to distract my Husband, mine from previous occasions and Charley's tonight, which of course brought a round of ridicule and offers to go and prove they could do better. In a moment of clarity, I said not to, as it would genuinely piss him off.

Jim was sitting in the corner of the room having a quiet conversation with Carol that he interrupted to shout out "Only one way to settle it. Simple race. First one with sticky tits wins."

The white Russians continued to do their good work, it seemed to me to be a splendid plan. Charley was in agreement, and in moments we were kneeling in front of a couple of kitchen chairs. Jim continued in his role as Master of Ceremonies and chose two volunteers in the international Olympic Federation recognised method of 'Eeenie-Meenie-Minie-Moe, catch a porn star by the toe' giving us Paul and Luc. I got Luc.

I looked up at the Frenchman, smiled in what I hoped was a sexy manner and heaved my vest top off over my head. He seemed to appreciate the view, although as Charley did the same thing and she's got bigger tits than me I don't know if I got an advantage from it.

Sandy counted us down in the familiar way, "Going live in 5, 4, 3" we both watched intently as she held up two fingers then one, delaying, delaying and Point.

I had both hands up in a flash, I undid his shorts, pulling them and his trunks down to his ankles, with a soundtrack of cheers, whistles and shouts of encouragement I opened wide and lowered my head until I felt the tip on my tongue, closing my lips I sucked hard, sliding my head up and down three or four times, pulling out and licking round the head, he was hard now, and I went back to sucking him deep into my mouth for a little longer. The noise got louder; I could hear Jane trying to get a football chant going. "She's Nic, she's hot, she likes to suck a cock, NIC-O-LAAA" which seemed to catch on.

I rolled my lips hard up and down the shaft, I wasn't looking for finesse or subtlety of feeling, I wanted to get him off and quick. Remembering the earlier occasion when I'd been in a similar position with Luc, I pulled my head away and gripped him to my chest, dripping some spit down to act as a lubricant. I suspected he was big on visual stimulation and if he didn't like the sight of his hard cock sliding between my nicely shaped, beautifully golden tanned tits with their brown well defined nipples then I was out of ideas.

I gave him a minute of that, the moan he gave made me think I was doing ok, then went back to sucking him deep into my mouth, lashing my tongue around the head on the up stroke, rubbing it flat and wide across the big vein on the bottom as I descended. Gripped hard with both hands, twisting my fist one way as I turned my head the other, saliva was running down my hands keeping my grip slippery and tight at the same time.

A quivering through Luc's thighs gave me a hint, I moved my head and hands even faster, he groaned out loud, his cock seemed to swell, I kept going, determined to get him to cum as quickly as I could. I cut it just a tiny bit too late and the first shot almost caught me by surprise, I was just able to pull my head away in time and took it on my lips and chin, the second hit me squarely on the right breast, I shoved him between them for the remainder of his load.

I checked to my left, Charley was sitting back and watching, it didn't look as if she'd even started, I didn't underst....."Oh you fuckers. There was no race was there? I just blew Luc for no good reason. No offence Luc." Luc assured me he wasn't offended and in fact it had been very nice thank you very much.

I stood up demanding a towel and more booze, swearing revenge on everyone but joining in with the laughter. Truth be told I hadn't minded dishing out the goods, I'd felt strangely unfulfilled having my three-way earlier but neither of the guys cumming. Jane threw me a towel and Deecee brought me another white Russian, delivering it with a peck on the lips. He took the opportunity to whisper to me "You were fantastic, I hope you're not upset?" I kissed him back with a one-handed hug, assuring him I was cool with it all.

The evening rolled on, as it got later Jamie, Carl and Sandy found themselves being quizzed about the company performance: We were ahead of schedule, so Monday was being planned as a day off for everyone. The first two episodes had been delivered and they'd been paid more than enough to cover the costs of the trip to France. There was a meeting scheduled for the week after they got back to discuss two more projects. No, they wouldn't be so tight for time.

They started on finances and I felt the conversation was heading into areas that were none of my business so made a move to head off to bed, Jane tagged along, knowing that Chris was sober and if we could drag him away from his computer, we had a lift back to our villa. He was but we couldn't and slept in the flat above the office.

I crawled out of bed feeling the worse for wear next morning at 9.30, the space next to me was empty so either I'd been snoring like a warthog all night and he'd slept on the sofa, which after (oh shit was it 5 white Russians? No wonder I felt like shit) a few drinks was entirely possible, or he'd gone off to play with his computer again.

He wasn't on the Sofa. Computer then. I searched for my mobile, finally finding it under a brochure for a whale watching boat trip. I sent a WhatsApp message to Chris telling him I was awake and was probably going to the beach with Jane for the day. He couldn't have been too engrossed yet because I got an answer back straight away, I say answer. He sent 'K. xx'

Chatty right?

I stuck my head in Jane's room, she'd had as much to drink as me and was making grunty pig noises too, so, being a good friend, I saved her embarrassment by throwing a cushion at her. "Mmwaassuppp?" she looked at me blearily.

"I'm getting in the shower, then going out for breakfast and then sitting on the beach. Coming?"

"Mmyeeeaah. Ok, sounzgood. Go'nwash the jizz off your tits you slapper" A second cushion flew across her bedroom followed by some choice profanity; I turned and slammed the door behind me just in time to hear a third flying cushion hit it.

We breakfasted in the same café where it had all started, fruit salads and yoghurt washed down with milky coffee and orange juice. Keeping my voice low I asked Jane if she would mind sleeping at the main villa tonight. She agreed without question, in fact suspiciously so. Something was not right I could tell, ordinarily I'd be getting the third degree about what I was going to be up to and why it needed privacy. This silence was worrying.

"What's up Jane? Something on your mind?"

She rummaged in her beachbag and dragged out her mobile. "Last night, while you were sucking off Luc....."

I balked at that," Sucking off? Sounds lovely. How about, bringing pleasure and eroticism to everyone?"

She gave me a Paddington stare and continued "While you were sucking off Luc, just before I started the chant, I sent an email to Paul Foster. Here, take a look."

Paul Foster's her line manager at work, I scrolled through the email and read:

'Dear Paul, following a period of personal reflection I regret to inform you I will be leaving my role as Senior Community Occupational Health Nurse Practitioner with the soonest effect. I have a further two weeks annual leave accrued, I will return to work on Monday next week for one week to hand over and will then take this in lieu of two weeks' notice.

Kind regards

Jane Chamberlain

Stunned, I handed back the mobile. "What are you going to do?"

She put the phone away and stared out to sea. "I don't know, but I know I don't want to go back to the NHS. Community Nursing is on its knees, we've been cut to the bone, starved of resources and used as a political football for ten years. Longer."

A tear rolled down her cheek, I took her hand and gave it a supportive squeeze. "You'll be fine, you could always do some bank shifts while you look for something permanent."

She sniffed, wiping tears out of both eyes. "Oh god, look at me. I did consider making films with this lot, but I don't know if I'm ready for that as a permanent solution. I had a chat with Sandy at lunch the other day, she said if I was in LA she'd let me try out but the whole visa thing is very difficult and I don't want to mess them around.

I'll be fine. Something will come along." As if to punctuate the conversation her phone rang, "Paul Foster" showing on the screen.

I pointed and asked if she was going to answer, which reluctantly she did. "Hi Paul, I take it you hit my email" Only hearing one side of the conversation was frustrating but I could guess he was asking what she was going to do.

"I haven't decided yet, I just can't do that any longer. I need to make some changes to my life."

He must have said something about references because her next line was "Thanks Paul. If I need one I'll come to you but I think I'm probably heading down the errmm performing arts route."

.....

.....

"If I make it into film I'll send you a signed copy, I promise. Thanks Paul. I hope I don't but thanks".

She put the phone back in her bag.

I burst into hysterical laughter. "'I'll send you a signed copy of my film, Paul.' He'd have a heart attack. Scarlett O'Hooer and the randy footballers." She joined me in my laughter.

"Can you imagine, he's in a management meeting and announces, 'Jane's sent me a copy of a film she's in, shall we all see?' It'd wipe out half the senior management in the trust. There wouldn't be enough Defibrillators in the hospital."

I was pleased to see my friend laughing but realised she was going to have to sort herself out, and I didn't think doing sex scenes, even for the crew that I now thought of as friends, was the long-term solution.

We walked across to the beach, it was after eleven in the morning and the day was warming up nicely, I felt brave enough to try out a thong bikini in public, one I'd been wearing for a week around the villa complex, Jane had a small bright red one piece on, looking a bit Baywatch. Once we were settled, I lost the top half and she rolled her suit down, a quick splosh of factor ten on the boobs and we were away. I had Benedict Cumberbatch reading Jane Austen on my iPod, he could read the phone book and keep me entertained, but the sight of our half naked magnificence must have been too much for the local tat merchants because we were interrupted about once every ten minutes by someone trying to flog us fake designer watches, or handbags, or sunglasses, or DVDs. Everyone got the bums rush, although we did waste the DVD man's time for five minutes flicking through his porn collection to see if we recognised anyone, but as we didn't, we told him to go as well.

The heat of the day was still quite intense at 4.30pm when my phone cut through the soothing tones of Benedict describing Mr Darcy, I knew it was Chris before I looked because it rang with his special ring tone, the final few seconds of commentary from 2003 when England won the Rugby World Cup.

"There's thirty-five seconds to go, this is the one, it's coming back to Jonny Wilkinson. He drops for World Cup Glory. It's up, it's over." It goes on a lot longer, it's very annoying and he won't show me how to change it. Everyone else gets the Strictly Come Dancing theme, apart from Jane who gets Single Ladies. It is, as I said, annoying.

"Hi Hun, any chance you could come back, I need you to be here for something. Can you bring Jane as well?"

Seeing how he asked so nicely we were back inside fifteen minutes. Chris was waving frantically from the operations office, we waved back and pointed to the kitchen and then our stomachs. He looked at his watch, seemed surprised and jogged over to join us. Both Jane and I got a kiss, she made a big show of making a noisy display of it, the more he struggled to get away, the harder she pushed her tongue into his mouth. In the end I had to intervene. "Jane, put him down. You don't know where he's been. Come on, food then you can tell us what's so effing important that I get dragged away from flaunting myself at the great and good of Mimizan."