Memoirs of a Swinger Ep. 32

"Dad the only reason I have this money is because you and mum made sacrifices to send me to university. Now I'm in a position to say thank you, not only for me but for my sister Jackie too. Let us do this for you."

"I don't know son..."

"Frank, Sandy," Lesley interrupted. "I didn't have a mum and dad like you, but if I had I would have wanted to do the same thing that Steven's trying to do now. Your son is stubborn when he wants to be and he won't give up until you've agreed. We can afford this, so please accept it. It would mean the world to Steven and to me too."

Mum began to weep a bit and Dad patted her in an uneasy public display of affection.

"Thank you son," my dad told me. "From both your mum and me."

Lesley and I had tried to pace ourselves at lunchtime because we knew we'd be eating again in the evening. When we got to Michael and Claire's house Michael and Lesley disappeared into the kitchen to do their cooking thing, leaving Claire and I to talk in the living room.

"Have you heard anything about the Bentley?" I asked.

"Sadly, no," she replied. "The police are a bit out of their depth with things like this."

"How's Michael taking it?"

"He loved that car Steven. Not for the car itself but for the memories it gave him." Then she added, "But Michael's a glass half full type of person. When you two come round and he and Lesley start cooking then he makes new memories and that makes him happy."

"It doesn't just make Michael happy," I told her

I know," Claire laughed. "Those two were lucky they found each other. But don't think it's just Lesley he likes to see. It's you too. We both do."

"Thank you Claire."

After dinner we played scrabble like we always did and as usual I lost. Then Lesley and Carole played the piano together for a while Michael and I talked about motorbikes. It was late when we finally turned in and staying over at Michael and Claire's felt a bit like being at your girlfriend's parents' house but Lesley was all loved up and she clung on to me tightly as she fell asleep.

BACK TO THE GYM

On Monday morning I dropped Lesley off at the hospital then drove to the office. But instead of going straight to work I went around the corner to take a look at a gym. It wasn't like any of the gyms I'd been to before. The building was light, modern and the reception looked more like a hotel.

"Can I help you, sir?" the attractive receptionist asked.

"I was thinking of joining your gym," I told her.

The receptionist eyed me over then said. "Certainly, sir. I'll get one of our associates to show you around."

The guy who showed me around was obviously a personal trainer but he could have been a model in his spare time. He didn't really need to sell it to me, I could see there was an ocean of gym equipment and very few people using the free weights, which was what I was really interested in.

What surprised me was that there were almost as many women in the place as there were men. And some of them looked hot, especially in their leotards. A few were in the gym itself but most were in the fitness classes. All the gyms I'd been in before had been male preserves but Jane Fonda and her exercise videos had revolutionised gym going for women.

I signed up, paid the exorbitant membership fee and they told me that my entry card would be ready the following day.

When I got into the office I called Colin Macgregor to ask if there was any news about Michael's Bentley.

"We think we know where it is," Colin replied, surprising me. "We believe it's with a collector in Switzerland. We're trying to work with the Swiss police to get a warrant to search the premises where we think it's located."

"That's great news" I said.

"Well it is, if we get the warrant and it turns out to be there. I didn't ring you because the fewer people that know about it at the moment, the less chance there is of anyone being spooked. Things are at a delicate stage Steven, so please, keep it to yourself for the time being.

On Monday evening after French class we got home to find Carole and Suzy sitting on the sofa eating from a large bowl of pasta. Carole looked happy, which was a good sign because I'd been worried that things wouldn't have gone well for her with Fabien over the weekend.

"How was your weekend?" I asked.

"It was very pleasant," she replied coyly.

"And why was that?"

"Well the harvest has started and it's going well."

"That's good news. Is Buster ok?"

"He's doing fine. Pierre finishes with the police force next week so he'll be able to hand over to him by the end of October."

"And how did things go with Fabien?"

"Well, I took your advice and decided to meet up with this girl he's seeing. She's called Sybil. She's mid-twenties, quite pretty and she's studying art at the university. Apparently she was married for a while but she's already divorced. She's as poor as any student is these days so she works in one of the galleries to earn some money."

"So how did you leave it with her?"

"Well," Carole said smiling. "I decided to take a leaf out of your book and asked her if she'd like to come and live with us while she finishes her studies."

"And is she going to?" asked Lesley.

"She spent the rest of the weekend with Fabien, Buster and me helping with harvest and she's moving in this week. It's the ideal solution. It wasn't going to be fair to Fabien to leave him on his own during the week, especially when Buster's gone."

"And she's ok with the sex thing?"

"Oh yes," said Carole giggling. "The three of us tried her out on Saturday night."

"That's great," I added. "Crisis avoided."

"You know I'd never have suggested it if I hadn't had so much fun living here with you lot. I'll be sad when this ends at Christmas."

"Then don't let it end," said Lesley hopefully. "The house will be empty without you and who's going to teach me calisthenics."

"And more importantly who's going to have sex with me on Wednesday nights?" Suzy asked bringing the tone down a bit.

"I do quite like our Tuesday nights together, Carole," I added.

"So you wouldn't mind if I stayed a bit longer?" Carole asked hopefully.

"We don't want you to leave, Carole," Lesley told her

Carole got up and we all had a group hug.

"Thank you," she said, a bit tearfully. "I'm having such a good time with you three."

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

On Tuesday morning I went back to the gym to begin my workout regime. I had to be realistic. I was probably never going to be able to spend as much time in the gym as I'd done when I was a student. But Lesley's comment about my losing muscle had struck a chord, so I arranged with the trainer who'd shown me around the day before to develop a workout plan that kept my bulk up but fitted the time I had available. It turned out that the guy didn't just have model looks, he also had a degree in Sports' Science and his advice reinforced my view that if you wanted to do something properly then it paid to go to an expert.

When I got home that evening, I could tell that something was up and I didn't have to wait long to find out what.

"Uwe's coming to see me this weekend," Suzy blurted out. "He'll be here on Friday."

For a girl who didn't want a boyfriend, Suzy looked pretty excited. It was just a shame that she'd picked a guy who lived so far away.

Lynne and I didn't go to Munich that week. Instead, we spent much of it trying to find people to work for us. It wasn't going well and I began to wonder whether I'd bitten off more than I could chew with the Obermann contract. The good thing that came out of it, however, was that I learned how capable Lynne was.

On Thursday evening I had my regular session with Andy. We started at the firing range and I went through the process of loading and firing both the Sig and the Glock, then dismantling them and putting them back together again. After several repetitions my wrist was aching and my accuracy was getting worse. So we stopped.

"Let's think about a scenario," Andy suggested. "The best close protection operatives plan ahead, they don't just react."

"Ok," I said. It made a lot of sense.

"Imagine your client is a high value civilian. Let's say she's the wife of a businessman and it's your job to escort her somewhere. A restaurant perhaps..."

I wondered how Andy had picked that scenario. It couldn't have been by accident. He started by talking about being aware of your surroundings and anticipating problems. It was all pretty logical, when someone explains it to you. The trick of course was to remember to do it.

"So let's say you get her safely to the restaurant. All of a sudden two armed men appear intent on taking her hostage. What do you do?"

"Do I have a gun?"

"Are you legally allowed to carry one?"

"No."

I played a few scenarios out in my mind but every one played out badly.

"I don't know what to do," I said.

"That's because there's nothing you can do," Andy told me. "Any way you look at it, you're fucked."

"So all these close combat techniques you're teaching me are a waste of time,"

"Against someone with a gun, pretty much. Unless you're Bruce Lee of course."

"So what do I do?"

"Carry a gun or stay at home."

"But you said I couldn't carry a gun."

"I said you couldn't carry one legally."

"I see."

"If you play with the big boys Steven then you play by their rules. But the stakes are high, remember that."

"Have you ever shot anyone?" I asked.

"When I was in the army, yes,"

"How does it feel?"

"They tell you that it should feel mechanical. Like you're just doing your job. The first time I felt elated, it was kill or be killed and I did what I had to. It's only much later that you think about the fact you took someone's life."

We spent the rest of the evening at the range. Andy showed me the various holsters and explained the benefits and pitfalls of each. I preferred the pancake holster that fitted inside your waistband as opposed to a shoulder style holster. It felt like wearing a bra. We practised withdrawing a gun from its holster then after I'd emptied the magazine I had to strip it then reassemble it.

Practise makes perfect.

PARTY TIME

On Friday, Suzy picked Uwe up from Heathrow airport. She'd been a bundle of excitement on Thursday night. Lesley and I decided that it was best to give her and Uwe some space and so Lesley got dressed up as sexily as she dared to and took me out to the West End for a meal. Then we watched a late showing of 'Tightrope' at the Odeon in Leicester Square. The film had already been out for over a month and the cinema wasn't crowded so we sat in the back row in a couple's seat and made out.

When we got home, the house was quiet but there was giggling coming from Suzy's room. I had to hold Lesley back from listening in at the door she was so inquisitive.

"Are you excited about tomorrow?" Lesley asked as we lay in bed.

"A bit," I said. "You?"

"A bit," she replied.

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

On Saturday morning, Lesley and I got up and made breakfast and the smell of food brought Suzy and Uwe out of their lair. Suzy was beaming when she came into the kitchen and Uwe looked pretty happy with himself too.

"Good morning you two," Lesley said giving Suzy a hug and then Uwe a long lingering kiss. I'd forgotten that the two of them had fucked at Markus and Heike's. On seeing Lesley with Uwe, Suzy kissed me too.

Afterwards I shook Uwe's hand and he thanked us for letting him stay then we dished out the breakfast and sat chatting. It was good to see Suzy happy.

"What are you going to do today?" Lesley asked them.

"We're going into town this afternoon. We'll probably stay up and have some food and then a drink. You've got your party tonight with Richard and Anabelle haven't you?"

"Yes," Lesley replied excitedly. "We're looking forward to it. I'm not sure when we'll be back. Probably not until the afternoon, if we're lucky. You'll still be here won't you Uwe?"

"I don't go back until Monday," Uwe confirmed.

Suzy and Uwe left for town after lunch leaving Lesley and I mooching around the house. At about three o'clock Lesley started to get ready, doing all the things that a girl needs to do before she goes out.

We knew that the party would be in Berkshire but the location was kept secret until the day. A couple of days before we'd received a letter with a phone number and a code on it and in the afternoon I called the number, gave the code and our names and received the exact location in return.

It took us about an hour to drive to a very posh hotel on the banks of the Thames. The car park was full of up market cars and I was glad we'd taken the Porsche and not the Land Rover.

We checked in and were shown to our room. It was only eight o'clock and still early but we'd noticed a lot of the other guests in the bar, so we decided to join them and have a drink before we got changed for the evening. We found Richard and Anabelle there. They were talking with a group of other couples but when they saw us they broke away to greet us.

"It's so good to see you again," Annabelle said, hugging us both.

As we talked, I couldn't help thinking about how I was going to fuck Annabelle later. It was always exciting going with someone for the first time and our previous meeting had left me keen for more.

Part of the reason that so many people were in the bar was that there was a buffet. We'd eaten before we came out but I couldn't resist 'topping up. Sir Hillary and his wife, Jemima came over to greet us and the six of us chatted for a while. Jemima reminded me of the Russian Bond villainess who used to kill her victims after having sex with them. She was a stunner but at the same time her size and physique made her look formidable. I wondered how many men she could get through in a night.

As it got later, couples started to drift off, presumably to get ready for the evening. We agreed to meet back up with Richard and Annabelle and then made our way back to our room.

It was another 'black tie" event for the men while for the ladies it was sexy but classy, a look that suited Lesley. She wore a short green dress that clung to her body showing off her slender figure.

I hadn't known what to expect from the party but when we joined it the downstairs floor had been transformed. The lights were dimmed and music played but at a level where you could still hold a conversation. I was also surprised at the number of staff. Apart from the obvious security the number of waiters and waitresses almost seemed to rival the number of guests. They were all dressed very provocatively, both the men and the women.

When we met Richard and Annabelle, Annabelle seemed different. She was much more intense and seemed to be drinking quite quickly too. I put it down to nerves. She was very tactile with everyone.

I've come to learn that every party is different. Some are like a cattle market while some are far more subtle. This was definitely one of the more subtle ones. I noticed after a while that couples were drifting away, back to their rooms but what also became apparent was that some of them were doing so with the waiters and waitresses. I pointed this out to Richard and Annabelle and Annabelle looked surprised.

"They're included in the package. A lot of them are dancers so they're super fit." Annabelle told us, surprised that we didn't already know. Turning to Lesley, she said, "Come on let's choose ourselves a couple of hunky guys before the best ones are gone. The boys can watch if they like."

Lesley looked at me, uncertain, but before we'd had a chance to discuss it Annabelle was commandeering a couple of the waiters. This wasn't how I'd seen the evening going but it wasn't all about me and I reminded myself that we were here to experience new things. Both of the guys Annabelle chose had model looks. There wasn't likely to be a lack of attraction on Lesley's part. Annabelle coiffed back another glass of champagne then led our group back to their room. Richard remained passive, going along with his wife.

When we got back to their room, things went downhill fast, however. No sooner had we shut the door than Annabelle produced a small bag of white powder and a straw.

"Tuck in," she instructed as she cut the powder into lines.

The two waiters looked worried. The invitations had explicitly stated that drugs weren't allowed and that guests would be required to leave if they brought them onto the premises.

"I'm sorry," I said, taking the lead. "We don't do drugs and we don't sleep with people who do drugs I'm afraid."

Defiantly Annabelle picked up a straw and snorted a line.

"Well now you're going to have to."

I looked at Richard and said, "I'm sorry but we're out of here." Then looking at the two waiters, I said, "It's up to you guys what you do."

The two waiters didn't hesitate to leave the room with us and the four of us made our way to the door. I'd taken my eye off Annabelle and the next thing I knew was when one of her shoes caught me on the side of the face. The sharp heel drew blood, another couple of inches over and it would have got me in the eye.

"You fucking bastard," she shouted at the top of her voice. "Nobody walks out on me."

I touched the side of my face with my hand. It was a little cut, nothing to worry about, but Lesley wasn't going to stand for it. She walked over to Annabelle and grabbed her firmly by the throat.

"Nobody does that to my husband," she said digging her fingers hard into the girl's neck.

Anabelle was shocked into reality and stood there like a rabbit in the headlights, the colour rapidly draining from her face. Richard wasn't sure what to do and so I tried to calm the situation down quickly.

"Come on. Let's go," I said, touching Lesley gently on the arm.

Lesley let go of Annabelle's throat and let me guide her out of the room. Annabelle's shouting had attracted attention and when we got into the hallway we saw one of the security guards talking to a concerned couple outside the door. Fortunately the two waiters talked to the guard and told him what had happened then we were allowed to go back to our room.

Lesley was fuming. I'd never seen her like that before but it was touching to know that she cared for me like that

"Do you want to go back to the party?" I asked her.

"No," she said firmly. "Besides, your face is still bleeding."

"I could put a Band-Aid on it."

"Do you have one?"

"No."

I gave her a hug and grudgingly she put her arms around me.

"It's not the end of the world," I told her.

"I know," she replied.

Our hug was interrupted by a knock at the door and I went to open it while Lesley sat on the bed. When I pulled back the door, a young couple stood outside. She was holding an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne in it, while he held a bottle of port and a couple of cigars.

"Sir Hillary asked us to bring these up to you," the girl said.

The girl was the spitting image of Lesley, lithe, petite and pretty, only with long blonde hair. She wore a short thin fairy-like dress. The sort I loved to see Lesley wear. The guy was tall, slim and good looking. His black hair was long, almost shoulder length and tied back in a pony-tail. He looked like a young Antonio Banderas.

When the two of them entered the room, Lesley got up and stood by me.

"Well the ice will come in useful," I joked, eyeing up the ice bucket, which got a laugh at least.

"Yes, we heard about what happened," the guy told us. "If it's any consolation, there's already a taxi outside and Sir Hillary's kicking your friends out as we speak. Holding an orgy is one thing but holding a drug fuelled orgy is something different altogether."

I liked the irony in his comment but the girl gave him a withering look and he shut up.

"We could stay, if you wanted us to," she added, slightly embarrassed.