Memoirs of a Swinger Ep. 30

"I never thought of it like that," Kate said.

"Well that's the thing. You and I aren't good at figuring stuff like that out. But once we know the tricks it's a different story."

******************

On Monday morning I drove Lesley to work.

"You won't forget to speak to Blackfinch, will you?" Lesley reminded me, unnecessarily.

"I won't," I told her.

Lesley leaned over from the passenger seat of the Porsche and gave me a kiss then she put her arms around my neck. She always wore a smart skirt to work and I couldn't help but push my hand between her legs.

"I never got the chance to ask you if you enjoyed this weekend?" she said opening her legs as wide as the skirt would allow.

"I did," I said, massaging her pussy through her tights. "But now I want you."

"Can you wait until after our French class?"

"I think I'm going to have to."

"I promise you, the moment we get home, you can fuck me any way you want."

When I got to the office I called Colin Macgregor of Blackfinch Security. He asked to meet, which I wasn't expecting, but we agreed to have lunch together at a restaurant just off Regent Street.

When I arrived at the restaurant that lunchtime, I realised that, although we'd spoken several times on the phone, I had no idea what he looked like. There was only one man in the restaurant seated alone however and when he saw me he got up.

"Mr. Carter," he said in a thick Scottish brogue. "I'm Colin, Colin Macgregor."

We exchanged pleasantries while a waiter took our order and brought us some drinks. Then we got down to business.

"Congratulations on your promotion. I was going to contact you anyway," he began. "Mr. Davidson has instructed us to set up a client account for you with Blackfinch."

"Do you do this for all of Daniel's direct reports?" I asked.

"That's a good question," he replied chuckling. "And the answer is no. Just Daniel, Carole and yourself. To be honest this is as much for their protection as it is for your convenience. This way, when you choose to use our services then they have an amount of personal deniability."

"I see. Are they going to need it?"

"I guess that's up to you. But it's not all bad news," he said. "You're already aware of our investigative services and, of course, some of the intervention services we provide too. In future these will be made available to you directly, without the need for Daniel's authorisation."

"Ok."

"We also offer our clients and their families a number of additional personal security services. We can provide personal protection for you and your household if you ever need it and we'll add your names to our watch-list. The three of you will also have access to our emergency hotline. It can be used if any of you feel in danger, or if you feel that one in your household is in danger, or if one of you needs to locate the other. It is also linked to Daniel's and Carole's households too."

"The three of us?" I asked.

"Yes. Daniel requested that Miss Armitage also be included."

For a moment I couldn't figure out who Miss Armitage was, then I realised it was Suzy.

"I see. Yes, that makes sense."

"We will also provide a similar but slightly more basic service for your assistant, Miss Parker. To be honest this makes good business sense for us. It's always good to keep on the right side of the client's personal assistant. Daniel's assistant will take her through this and, as with him, a request from your assistant for our services will be considered by us to be a request from you, if that's acceptable."

"Yes, of course."

"Excellent. In that case, all I need from you is a signature."

Colin produced a simple engagement document from his briefcase which we both signed in duplicate. He then gave me three small gift boxes each with a gift tag denoting whether it was for me, Lesley or Suzy."

"They're not actually gifts," he clarified. "They're key rings. Each one is different but they all have a unique four digit code and the hotline number engraved on them. I suggest that you each record your numbers separately, in your diaries or wherever, but try to keep the keyrings with you at all times, just in case. Carole can help to explain this to your wife and Miss Armitage if need be."

"Thanks. I'll take them through it tonight. I take it that you know that Carole is staying with us."

"Yes. If you're travelling abroad or change your address for any length of time it helps if you let us know."

"I'm with you."

"Now, I understand you might have some work for us."

I explained to Colin about the theft of Michael's Bentley and he took down some details. He told me what we'd already suspected, that it was highly likely that the car was out of the country by now. But he said there were avenues they could pursue.

"I'll make contact with the local police and the insurers to get copies of their reports to begin with. Given Mr. Justice Taylor's position, it may be advisable not to inform him of our involvement for the time being," he suggested.

That evening I picked Lesley up from work and we drove to the school in Wimbledon for our French evening class. Unlike half the class, it seemed we'd found the time to do our homework and I found it a bit frustrating that our progress was being hampered by a group of people who couldn't be bothered to put in the effort.

When one particularly vacuous couple giggled their way through an excuse for their lack of effort I felt it incumbent upon me to tell them that they were wasting our time and everyone else's. The class went silent and the teacher, a young French woman called Claudette who'd clearly gone into teaching to avoid confrontation, didn't know what to do. I had the silent support of about half the class while the other half weighed up their options. Lesley could hardly keep a straight face, she wanted to laugh so much. The vacuous couple sat in silence for the rest of the time and didn't come back the following week.

After class, as we were walking out of the school, Lesley grabbed my hand tightly.

"Have you ever done it in school before?" she asked.

"No."

"Come with me."

Neither of us knew where to go but we followed signs to the science block as it seemed least likely to be used for evening classes. The doors to the laboratories were all locked but eventually we found one that opened and on the other side was a small lecture theatre with a bench at the front and tiered seating for the students.

Lesley pulled me into the room and we locked the door behind us. I pushed her up against the wall and pressed myself against her. She kissed me passionately as she worked my belt undone while I undid her blouse then reached round and unclipped her bra. The moment the clasp was loose I lifted the cup out of the way and chewed on one of her nipples. Lesley let out a big sigh and reached into my trousers, grabbing my cock and wanking it hard. Then, turning around, she offered her backside to me like a bitch on heat.

Being the dog that I was, I lifted her skirt up, pulled her tights and panties down then, without checking to find out how moist she was, I stuck my cock in her. Lesley drew breath as I went in then backed herself on to me.

"I've been a bad girl," she told me. "I've let two men fuck me this weekend. Now I need you to show me who I really belong to."

"You're a little slut, aren't you?" I told her as I fucked her with deep hard strokes.

"I'm your little slut, Steven. Pull my hair baby, tight."

I grabbed Lesley's long red hair in one hand and pulled on it hard, leaving her no choice but to stare at the ceiling. Lesley grunted her appreciation as I pounded myself into her, not letting up until I'd given her what we both wanted. It was short and sweet. If sweet was the right description under the circumstances.

We stayed coupled for a few moments and when we separated, Lesley quickly pulled her panties and tights up. Once she'd smoothed her skirt back down she crouched in front of me and sucked my cock clean.

"We'd better go," she said afterwards, "before I start leaking."

When we got home, Carole and Suzy were both in the lounge watching television.

"You're late back," Suzy said inquisitively.

"Look at Lesley," Carole said smiling. "Tell me what you see."

Suzy studied Lesley then said, "Your cheeks are all red. You two have had sex, haven't you?"

"I'm a bit sticky," Lesley giggled. Then she said to Suzy, "Do you want to help me get clean in the shower? Then you can tell me all about your weekend."

Suzy's eyes lit up and the two of them disappeared upstairs.

"That girl's insatiable," Carole said of Lesley.

"She had a good weekend," I said. "How was yours?"

"Exhausting," Carole joked. "Satisfying Fabien after a week away takes it out of me. But satisfying Buster as well nearly killed me."

Buster was my best mate from Uni. He'd agreed to extend his holiday in Provence until the end of October to help Carole and Fabien get ready for the grape harvest at their new winery.

"Did you need to keep Buster satisfied?"

"It's important to keep the workforce motivated," Carole joked.

"How are Fabien and Buster getting on?"

"Like a house on fire. I wouldn't have thought they had that much in common but they're getting on really well."

"Everyone gets on with Buster," I told her.

When the girls came down they were in their dressing gowns.

"I've got something for you," I said, producing the boxes that Mr Macgregor had given me earlier in the day and handing one each to Lesley and Suzy.

We opened our boxes together and I could see that all three key rings were different. The girls stared at them not wanting to appear unduly disappointed.

"I got given these today," I said. "They're key rings with a number on them that you need to ring if you think you might be in danger. It's important that you try to keep them with you at all times. If ever you feel in danger, or are worried that one of us might be in danger, or you urgently need to contact one of us, then call the number on the key ring, tell them the four digit code and somebody from a company called Blackfinch will help you.

"What about Carole?" Lesley asked.

"I've already got one," Carole said reaching into her handbag and showing it to us. "I keep it with me always and I've memorised the phone number and four digit code just in case.

"Have you ever needed it?" asked Suzy.

"No, but you can't be too careful. So I want to see you both put your keys on them now."

The girls found their keys and dutifully replaced their old keyrings with the new ones while I did the same.

"Right. I'm going to have a shower," I told them and got up to walk out of the lounge.

"Erm. Steven, aren't you forgetting something?" Lesley asked.

"What?"

"Carole!"

I looked at Carole and said, "I thought you were exhausted."

"I said that the weekend had been 'exhausting' not that I was 'exhausted'," Carole clarified. "So you can have your wicked way with me if you want."

I walked over to Carole, picked her up and put her over my shoulder then carried her out. Carole shrieked all the way up the stairs but when we got to the bathroom I put her down and kissed her. We took each other's clothes off and then I lifted Carole up and lowered her onto my shaft. She wrapped her legs tightly around me and put her arms around my neck.

Carole was so small and so light that I could hold her up and bounce her on my cock with ease. I knew she liked it that way. The pounding combined with the sensation of she got from rubbing her clitoris against my pubic bone made her cum quickly but I kept going until she'd extracted every ounce of orgasm on offer. Afterwards, she reached down and massaged my balls, while I stroked myself into her, more gently now. I soon found myself cumming for the second time that evening.

******************

Back in the December of '83, Lesley and I had rescued our friends Heike and Aldo from being drugged and taken advantage of at a swingers' weekend in Germany. I'd ended up fighting with the guy who'd drugged them. Despite having been a pretty handy amateur boxer in my youth, the fight had been a tough one. My opponent had been much bigger than me and hard with it. I beat him, but only just.

It was enough to impress Stefan Voigt however. He'd been the organiser of the swingers' weekend. He was also a close friend of Heike's husband, Markus, who owned the bank in Munich that I was Durolitum's account director for. Stefan told me that he could introduce me to somebody in London who could make me a better fighter, if that was what I wanted.

So it was that, on a Tuesday evening, after work, Lesley and I came to be standing outside an old warehouse in Battersea. The sign above the entrance said 'International School of Martial Arts' but the car park was full of yummy-mummies dropping their offspring off for Judo classes.

"This doesn't look very hopeful," I said to Lesley as we walked inside.

A lady sat at the reception desk and she smiled sweetly at us when we approached.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm looking for Stan Smith," I told her.

She eyed me up closely then said, "Side entrance love."

We walked around to the side of the building and found the entrance. Once inside, we were in a world that, before going to university, I'd been very familiar with. It was a fight gym and a very well appointed one at that. The only thing missing from it were people. The place was deserted.

"Sorry mate we're not open to the public," a voice said.

"I was hoping to find Stan Smith," I told him.

"I'm Stan. How can I help you?"

"You were recommended by a friend."

"Oh yes. Who's that?"

"His name is Stefan Voigt. He gave me this letter to give to you."

Stan took the letter and without opening it, said, "You'd better come into the office."

When we got into his office, Stan pulled together two chairs for Lesley and I, then sat at his desk and read the letter. When he'd finished he looked at us both.

"Mr Voigt told me to expect you a while back," he said. "I'd assumed you weren't going to come."

"I've been away at university."

"I see," Stan said. "Do you know what we do here Mr. Carter?"

"You're a fight gym?"

"Not really. We train professionals for the security services. Mainly close protection work but other services too. The gym is only one part of what we do. People usually come to us full time for a month but I'm guessing that wouldn't work for you?"

"Not really," I said.

"Fortunately for you, Mr. Voigt is not a man you say no to," Stan continued. "So I'm going to suggest that you pick one evening a week and I'll arrange three hours of one to one training for you. How does that sound?"

"That would be great. How about Thursdays?"

"Thursdays it is. And what about you, Mrs Carter?"

"Oh, I don't think this is for me," Lesley responded, surprised to be asked.

"According to Mr. Voigt's letter, you and your husband are a team, Mrs Carter. He thinks that you would benefit from learning some self-defence techniques, that sort of thing. It doesn't need to be here. I can arrange for a female instructor to come to your house, if you have the space."

I could see that Lesley was won over by the idea of being a team.

"In that case, Thursdays would be good for me too."

"How much will this cost?" I asked, trying not to sound cheap.

"There'll be no charge, Mr Carter. That will be taken care of."

Later that week on Thursday, after work, I went back to the 'International School of Martial Arts' in Battersea while Lesley waited at home for her instructor. Again there were classes being taught at the front of the building but the gym at the rear was empty again. The side door was open and so I walked in. Stan was in his office talking to someone and so I waited. When they came out, Stan introduced me to the person he was with.

"Steven, this is Andy. He's going to be your instructor. Andy's one of our best and his partner, Tracey will be teaching your wife."

Andy shook my hand. He was six foot, clean cut, mid-thirties and of course, fit. He looked ex-military, but I think that was a safe bet.

"Pleased to meet you Steve. Stan tells me you come highly recommended."

"I'm not sure about that, but I'm keen to learn. Thanks to you and your partner for agreeing to teach us."

"Not at all, it's what we do."

"Right," said Stan. "I'll leave you to it."

Stan disappeared back into his office, leaving Andy and me alone in the big gym.

"Ok," said Andy. "I guess we should start with some introductions. My name's Andy Conlan. I joined the Paras when I was eighteen and did twelve years with them, four years on assignment with the regiment and ending up as an instructor. I wanted to join the Marines, but I couldn't swim," he laughed. "When I left the army I worked in close protection for a while but to be honest I prefer instructing. How about you?"

"Erm, I'm Steven Carter. I'm married to Lesley as you already know. I've just finished university and now I work for a venture capital company in London. I used to box when I was younger, but I stopped when I went to Uni. I've tried to keep up the regime though."

"So why does someone like you want to come to a place like this?"

"I keep finding trouble I guess. I was knifed in France a while back and last year I got into a fight in Germany. Somebody recommended I seek Stan out. They made an introduction and here I am."

Andy chuckled.

"Why do you laugh?" I asked.

"Not just anybody can get you in here, Steve. Stan's a government approved private contractor. He only teaches professionals. This isn't really a place for amateurs or part timers."

"So how come I'm here?"

"That's a good question," he replied. "But since neither of us seems to know the answer to that perhaps we should just get started?"

"Ok."

"Today is going to be all about assessing your fitness and your current skill set. Then I can work on a plan for you. So get yourself changed and we'll begin."

For two hours, Andy put me through my paces. Every exercise was done to failure. It was the most gruelling physical workout I think I've ever had. Andy recorded the results on a pre-printed sheet attached to a clipboard. Then, for the last half an hour, we did mat work. Of course, the boxing was fine but the moment I couldn't throw a punch I was easy pickings.

Afterwards we sat and went through the results.

"Well you're fitter than most," he said, starting with a positive. "Your strength's pretty good too, although you can't climb a rope for toffee."

"I've never needed to," I laughed.

"I can see you've boxed, but overall, your close combat skills are lower than we're used to. But we knew that was going to be the case. That's why you're here. Ok, well done. Let's call it a day. Next week we'll start your training."

Andy pulled a sheet of paper from his clipboard.

"Here's a shopping list of the things you're going to need. Go to Silvermans in Mile End and they'll sort you out. Tell them I sent you, oh and they're not open on Saturdays."

When I got home, I found Lesley collapsed on the sofa.

"I'm not going to be able to move tomorrow," she said.

"You too," I replied. "How did you get on?"

"Apparently I'm not bad for someone of my size according to Tracey. How about you?"

"Similar, but I can't climb a rope."

"Do you need to climb a rope?"

"Apparently."

When Suzy came home from her badminton she laughed when she saw us lying on the sofa but generously made us all a hot chocolate and added some whisky.

I slept well that night.

******************

Toward the end of September, Brand's Hatch racing circuit held the European Formula One Grand Prix. Daniel and Kate had been invited to see the race from the VIP area by an old friend of Daniel's who ran a public relations firm for one of the tobacco companies. Back in those days tobacco companies had money to burn at events like these. Daniel and Kate couldn't go and so Daniel asked if Lesley and I if would like to go in their place.