Mr Finch

This story takes place after the conclusion of Book Two -- Raven -- in the Michelle series.

Linda

The woman looked nervous. Constantly teasing a lock of dark hair in her finger, then pulling down on the hem of her short dress. "It's years since I've been on a date, let alone tried to pick up a guy. Who will be interested in me?" Beth Carter said plaintively.

"Lots of men," Linda assured her. They were standing around a small raised table in a corner slot of Glyde's Brasserie. Linda leant on the table, took another puff on the inhaler and stuck out her rear. "Try it."

"No, I couldn't, you're tall and slim, I'm short and dumpy."

"I meant the inhaler!" Linda stopped herself from giggling. Behave! And that's the last puff, she told herself. "You have great boobs, honestly, Beth I wish I had your boobs."

"They droop, you'd hate them." Beth picked up the inhaler warily. She knew the effects, having tried it at Linda's the other day. Oh, to hell with it! She inhaled and felt a surge of confidence. "Thanks, oh, that man is looking at your bum. Creep!"

"He is meant to be looking. I'm wriggling it in a provocative manner, Although he does look like a creep." Linda giggled. Okay, add too much wine to the list. She pushed her glass away. "Besides he may be looking at your boobs."

"Oh, god! Do you think so?" Beth clasped her hand to her chest.

"Draw attention to them, I would!" To be fair, the amount of boob Beth was showing was attention enough. "Honestly, you really do have great boobs." Linda repeated encouragingly.

"Are you hitting on me, Linda Leason?" Beth smiled.

"You know my reputation is for younger ladies, but I am tempted to make an exception." Linda pressed herself against Beth.

"Behave!" Beth's smile meant she was pleased and more than a little flattered.

"He's coming over."

"What do we do?"

"Be nice."

****

Terry Dawson was thirty-one and cocksure but with enough sense of humour not to be a total pain in the arse. "Ladies," he grinned. "What you having?" He resisted the temptation to say 'apart from me'.

The taller woman answered with a smile. "White wine, that okay with you Beth?"

Beth nodded, anxiety twisting her face. Terry liked that look. Older woman, short on confidence and big on tits. Terry fancied his odds as he made his way to the bar.

"He's a bit young," murmured Beth. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"Well, you know," Beth went bright red. "You liking young women."

"Beth Carter, please stop worrying! I like my life and I like what I do. and yes, he's young, so what? Means if you pull him he won't flake after five minutes. Now are we here to get you out the house and start enjoying life again or fretting about every little thing?"

"That's just it, I don't know! I'm a nervous wreck, I don't know what to say or do. Can I have another puff?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake! Do you like him?" Linda handed the inhaler back.

"He's okay, fancies himself a bit. Oh, god its so long since I've had a bloke." Beth eyed the inhaler and put it down.

"I wouldn't worry about that, I reckon Mr ego-pants will be more than happy to show you what to do."

Beth laughed. "I do wish I was more like you, Linda."

"Well, its taken years of practice, so don't beat yourself up over it. Just relax, have a nice time and see where the mood takes you. Shush, he's coming back."

"Two white wines for two lovely ladies. I'm Terry by the way."

'Pleased to meet you, Terry. I'm Linda, and this is Beth."

"So what brings you two gorgeous gals to Glyde's?"

"Oh, we were just bored, so thought we would pop out and see if we can get laid," replied Linda. Beth squeaked in alarm, then tried to cover it by taking a gulp of wine.

Despite his confidence, Terry was anticipating a bit more finesse. He looked at Linda, who stared boldly back. Terry decided to go all in.

"Look, Linda. I could spend the next twenty minutes chatting you up and you could be all flirtatious yada, yada, or we could just pop around the back and have some fun. What do you reckon?"

Linda turned to a wide-eyed Beth. "What do you think? You okay by yourself for a bit?"

"Or she can come with and hold your handbag," grinned Terry, placing his hand in the small of Linda's back.

"I'll stay here with the bags and the drinks, are you really, you know?"

"Yes, I'm really going to, you know," replied Linda allowing Terry to take her by the hand and lead her outside.

Linda breathed in the night air, feeling a little light-headed. She had been showing off in front of Beth, and while not regretting her bravado, spending a bit more time getting to know this man wouldn't have gone amiss. Terry stopped in the alley and pressed Linda against the rough wall, kissing her hard.

He was a lovely kisser, Linda thought, strong, but not without feeling, looking to accommodate her wishes rather than just focusing on his own. She began to melt into him, his hand on her arse, pushing his groin into her.

"You bring all the ladies down here?" Linda whispered as his mouth found her neck.

"Only the sexy ones."

"You mean the ones that say yes."

"Yes is a very sexy word." Terry kissed her again, his hand under her dress, a finger slipping into the leg of her panties. She was smooth and wet to the touch.

Linda's hand dropped to his groin, fumbling for the zip, shivering as his finger penetrated her. "We doing it here?"

"Well, we are not out here for the fresh air."

"No, I guess--fuck!" Linda moved on his hand, the sound of her wetness seemingly loud in the dim alley.

"Like that, huh?" Terry bit harder on Linda's neck as he pushed a second finger into her.

"Yes!" Linda reached for his cock that was pressing into her, a wet smear on her thigh, cooling in the night air.

'Suck me!" His voice was urgent, pushing her down.

There was no resistance to the idea. Linda wanted his cock, and she preferred giving a blowjob to fucking in an alley.

He was warm and slick, her juices were on his cock, the mix of scent arousing her as she sank to her haunches. She took his hardness in her mouth. Instinctively, Terry thrust forward, then pulled back as Linda's hand stayed him, accepting her desire to control the action.

"That's it, babe!" Terry gasped. Linda's tongue was everywhere, then settling into a rhythm as she sucked him off. It didn't take long. That warm salty bleach-like taste filling her mouth.

"Fuck!" Terry muttered, half leaning against the wall, his eyes regaining focus. "Fuck," he muttered again.

Linda nuzzled his groin, rose, then gave a startled cry.

"Oh, yeah, you met my mate, Gary?" Terry grinned.

Finch

"That's everything, Mr Finch," the youth said.

"Feels a bit light, Jimmy." Finch hefted the envelope, his attention partly elsewhere.

"Trade was a bit slow last night, Mr Finch," Jimmy rushed to explain. "I'll be hitting the main pubs and clubs tonight, it being Friday. Bound to offload a load of pills."

"Yeah, you'd better." Finch pocketed the envelope. "You need more gear?"

Jimmy nodded.

"Courier will stop on Tidwell Road near the Kebab and Burger Bar. Around 10:30."

"Thanks, Mr Finch, I won't let you down."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jimmy."

"You can rely on me, Mr Finch."

"Fuck off, Jimmy."

Jimmy fucked off.

Finch picked up his whisky and kept an eye on the two women and the man that had just joined them. Finch didn't cut an imposing figure amongst the clientele of Glyde's Brasserie. Barely, 5'6′, with a lean, wiry build and an indeterminate face. He brushed back his long brown hair, his watchful eyes constantly darting around the bar.

"That was quick." He put his glass down. The taller woman was leaving with her male companion, leaving the anxious woman behind.

None of his business. Except for the nod between the man that left and a big guy standing alone and nursing a drink. That nod might make it his business.

It was a good ten minutes before the big guy moved to the door. He had checked his phone several times as he waited.

"Fuck it," muttered Finch. "Excuse me, darlin'." Pushing his way to the exit, Finch caught the big guy turning down an alley. "Now, what's the betting you and your mate like to double team," he mused aloud.

Linda

"What?" Linda stuttered, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Figured you could do my mate." Terry went on.

"What?"

"Blow him, suck him off. As we have you here, shame to waste the opportunity."

Linda glared, holding on to her anger for comfort and courage. "What the fuck do you think I am?"

"You're a whore, sweetheart," replied Gary, unzipping his pants.

"Fuck you--" Linda squeaked in alarm as Terry gripped her face.

"Now don't be like that, we're just being friendly. You suck good cock, might as well spread that expertise around."

"You okay, lady?" A third voice interrupted.

Both Terry and Gary turned, startled at first, then with annoyance at the smaller man facing them.

"Fuck off, mate, get your own tart, this ones taken." Gary zipped up his pants. Having your cock hanging out didn't cut it in the intimidation stakes.

Linda stared at Finch, he looked vaguely familiar. She shook Terry's hand off her. "No, I'm not okay!" Linda spat in Terry's face.

"Fucking bitch!" Terry growled, wiping his cheek.

"Seems the lady has made her feelings clear," said Finch mildly. His employer wouldn't appreciate trouble with Linda in the vicinity.

Gary squared off to Finch. "This is none of your fucking business, mate so do yourself a favour and fuck off."

"Sure I'll fuck off, but only with the lady."

"She ain't going anywhere," muttered Terry.

"Finch!" Linda suddenly said."It's Mr Finch, isn't it?"

"Surprised you remembered," smiled Finch.

"I do, you drove me home from the Spice Shop at the Depot. You work with my daughter."

For, not with, your daughter. "Yeah, that's right. I work at the Depot." The blade suddenly glinted in Finch's hand as Terry and Gary began to feel the ground shifting under them.

"The Depot? Hey, this was just a bit of fun," said Gary hastily.

"Your daughter?" Terry looked at Linda, half-hoping this wasn't going where he thought it was going.

"Yeah, I work for the lady's daughter. Raven." Finch informed them.

****

"So, what happens now," said Linda. "Oh, god, I forgot about Beth!"

They were standing outside the entrance to Glyde's. Finch looked in and smiled. "She seems okay." Beth was chatting to a guy in his forties. She looked relaxed.

"I had best go see." Linda hesitated, her hand on the door.

"I'll wait for you, see you home if you like,"

"Yes, thank you." Linda pushed into the bar.

Finch

He watched through the window as the two women chatted. Not that he cared about Beth, his interest was Linda and only because of his employer.

"Your friend okay?" Finch asked politely when Linda returned.

"She's fine, think she had forgotten I had slipped out. The guy seems nice."

"So did Terry."

"Thanks."

Finch shrugged.

"None of this has to get back to Michelle does it?" Linda continued.

"Not if you don't want it to."

"I'd prefer it. She will get all judgemental and take it out on those two arseholes. Not that they don't deserve it. I thought it was going to end in a fight." Linda sounded slightly disappointed.

"Not once they figured who I worked for. That you're Raven's mother was when they really started shitting themselves. They'll be shitting themselves for the rest of the month. Worse than a beat down." He cocked his head to one side. "Why the face?"

"Nothing, it's just, well I hate that name. Raven. Silly really."

"We call her Lady if it helps. You want a lift back home?"

"I can walk, I'm staying at my flat in town, its not too far."

"Want me to walk you?"

Linda did. She flashed him a grateful smile. "I haven't thanked you for rescuing me."

Finch offered her his arm, which Linda gratefully accepted. They walked in companionable silence.

Linda

Keying in the door code, Linda turned to Finch. "Can I offer you a coffee?"

Finch hesitated.

"Sorry, you probably can't wait to get shot of me!" Linda was suddenly embarrassed.

"No, it's not that, I'm working tonight."

"Oh, alright, no problem, thanks again, what's your first name?"

"Finch. Just, Finch. I guess ten minutes and a cup of coffee can't do any harm."

Pleased, Linda smiled and led the way to the lift.

"Top floor," she said as Finch's finger hovered over the panel.

Finch punched the button while Linda surreptitiously checked out her reflection.

"Make yourself at home, I'll get the coffee on." Linda busied herself in the kitchen, conscious that he was watching her.

"Nice place. Yours?"

Linda nodded. "Michelle bought it for me a year ago. I use it for weekends, going shopping, partying. everything is in walking distance. Cream?"

"Thanks, no sugar."

She handed Finch a cup, watching him as he took a sip. He was her height, maybe a fraction shorter, but the way he carried himself was appealing. Self-assured without being brash.

"Do you always carry a knife?" Linda suddenly felt the need to say something.

"Yeah, since I was in my teens. Then I joined the Army and upgraded."

"Oh." Linda wished she hadn't asked. It had sounded rude. "Shall we make ourselves comfy?" Something else she wished she hadn't said. A small smile creeping across his face.

"Sure." He followed Linda to the seating area in front of the windows. It was all open plan and muted tones with a split level staircase leading to the bedrooms.

"God knows what you must think of me." Linda decided to confront the issue head-on.

"Likewise."

"Sorry?'

"God knows what you think of me. It works both ways."

"I think you're a very charming man." Dangerous but charming.

"And I think you are a very lovely lady."

"Who lets men feel her up in alley ways."

"We both make lifestyle choices."

"Lifestyle choices? That's what we are calling it now?" An echo of a conversation with her daughter from years ago.

"Why not? Look, Linda, can I call you Linda? Look, I don't give a shit what you do or how you lead your life or the choices you make. I don't make judgements."

"Me, neither," smiled Linda.

"That's settled then. Thanks for the coffee. But I do have to go."

"Really?" Linda tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Fraid so." Finch stood up. "I'll see myself out."

"No, let me." Linda walked with him to the door. "Thanks for everything, Finch."

"Sure."

"And don't say a word to my daughter!"

"Promise." Finch paused. "You know I could--"

"I'd like that," Linda replied quickly.

"It may be late."

"I'll wait up, no matter how late." Linda held his gaze.

"Until later then."

"Yes, until later."

Finch

Tomkins looked at Finch as they sat parked up in a residential street. "Are you fucking mad? You were alone with Raven's old dear in her flat?"

"What? I helped out, she wanted to talk. I was only there ten minutes." Which was true. So far.

"Yeah, well, tread carefully, mate. You telling Lady?'

"Can't. I promised Linda."

"Pity, helping out would put you well in with her. Not that you need it. Lady all but wanks you off, the way she goes on about you."

"I'm a valued employee, mate. And the ladies can't get enough of me, so it's inevitable I would be the favoured one."

"Fuck off. Hang on, this him?"

"Yeah, Terry Dawson. Looks like he sank a few."

"Trying to forget his major error of judgement earlier tonight." Tomkins opened the car door and eased himself out. He was a big man, an easy 6'3′, cropped hair.

"Terry!" Finch called out as they approached their wobbly target.

"What? Oh, shit!" Terry stumbled back, then turned and ran.

"Fuck! He's legging it! We know where you live you fucking tosser!" Tomkins yelled after him. There was a crash of bins as the fleeing figure sprawled onto the pavement.

"That was lucky, I didn't fancy giving chase," grinned Finch.

They approached the groaning man on the ground.

'I'm going to be sick!" Terry mumbled.

Finch looked down at him. "Mate, that's the least of your fucking problems."

Linda

It was a bad idea, but then lately all her ideas were bad. Trouble was they were kind of fun too. A flighty-fifty-something-year-old woman, a mother and grandmother, who happily went with a strange man down an alley to suck him off, and then wait up for an even worse man to come back and do--well, God knows what to her.

What's more, he worked for her daughter. "And the less said about that, the better!" Linda said aloud. The noise surrounding Michelle, she refused to think of her as Raven, seemed to grow louder each year. None of it flattering, a lot of it upsetting, some of it disturbing. No matter how hard Linda tried, she couldn't block it out.

"Huh?" Linda jerked awake, glancing at the time. She had fallen asleep on the sofa. 1:41 am. Late. Another soft knock at the door.

Finch! Panic washed over Linda. She hurriedly checked her reflection in the window, a dark patch visible on the front of her dress. Oh, God, she had drooled over herself! Again a knock. Linda got her act together and threw the door open.

Finch

This is dumb, Finch. Fucking dumb. It's not even you are short of pussy. The Depot had wall to wall snatch. Raven liked to keep morale up. So why the fuck was he knocking on the door of the mother of his employer at gone one in the morning?

Because I'm a fucking idiot. Finch knocked again. He knew the answer. He was a risk-taker, and this appealed to him. Still, he had time to walk--the door flew open, a madwoman was staring at him.

Finch knew he was going to fuck her.

Linda

Collecting her breath, Linda smiled at Finch. She was absurdly pleased to see him. She had stripped off her dress and grabbed a short robe on the way to the door, bra and knickers underneath. It was better than a dress with a drool patch. It was also one of her sexiest underwear sets.

"Hi, you made it!" Linda smiled breathlessly.

"Yeah." He was staring at her tits.

"Come in, do you want anything?"

"Yeah, you."

Linda was silent, a tightness in her tummy.

She knew she was going to fuck him.

Finch

He had her wedged against the wall, kissing her hard. She twisted beneath him, kissing him back, her mouth open, her tongue urgent. Their breathing, heavy and loud in the silence.

Finch propelled Linda back to the lounge area. She gave a slight moan as he pulled down her bra straps, grasping her tit and squeezing.

'How--?" Linda stuttered, her voice thick.

"Shut up!" Finch shoved Linda face down into the sofa cushion and ripped down her panties. "I'm still on the clock."

Linda

Linda could sense the wolfish grin. His hand was between her legs, feeling her, then she heard him spit, a tiny wet splatter on her arse. A peaceful surrender overtook her. Finch was here to do her, she wanted him to do her.

Finch started doing her.

Finch

She had a great arse, Finch was a connoisseur of arses. He admired it as he dicked her. The thought of doing this had been tickling and teasing the back of his mind all night. He suspected it had been the same for Linda. Hours of foreplay stoking them, the inevitably of this moment, both knowing it as soon as they saw each other, the imperative, the need to fuck and get it out of their systems.

They went at it in silence, save the grunts, the stuttering breath, the wet slapping of flesh, neither wasted energy on words. They were rutting like back alley dogs. He grinned, teeth bared.

Linda

She just knelt there, arse in the air, semen dripping from her cunt. Linda didn't want to move. Ordinarily, she and a new partner would be sharing post-coital reassurances and after sex niceties. They were not necessary. She knew it had been great, a primaeval fantastic fuck. Dimly, she could hear him in the kitchen. Perhaps she should do something? At least wipe herself, do the after-sex-hostess bit.