tagNonConsent/ReluctanceSarah's Visit to London Ch. 03

Sarah's Visit to London Ch. 03


Author's note: As always, you might enjoy this more if you read the first two Chapters first. I'm in great debt to my Editor, she knows who she is!


John woke around six-thirty. He was nuzzled into Sarah and his cock was hard in her arsecrack. He licked her shoulder and moved his fingers on her soft nipples. She was sound asleep and he knew she needed her rest. He slipped from the bed and dressed as quietly as he could. Wrote a wee note and left the hotel. It was raining hard this morning: low-pressure weather, warm and close and thundery.

When he got home he showered vigorously, then sipped Darjeeling as he dressed. He knew that he and Sarah had had something pretty special online, but he had been traumatised to the base of his soul by the reality of being with her. His cock was red and tender from their unions, but it was hard again now as he thought of her. He really couldn't begin to try to imagine how their sex had been for her. But he knew she had been enormously pleasured by her experiences with him. He was glad he had been able to give her a grand adventure. His cock twitched at the thought of the day ahead.

He finished dressing and walked back to the tube station. He had no idea what the three women might want to do today: they hadn't discussed it. He suspected that, after yesterday, Sarah wouldn't be so interested in sex. But he needed her, a deep feral need. And she would give him what his body demanded.

But he knew too, as he surfaced from the Victoria Line that he had to give them all the best day he could.

It was eight am and the women were at breakfast when he entered the hotel dining-room.

Morning lassies, I hope you're all well? He ordered his breakfast and they chatted lightly. The forecast's a bit grim, he said. London gets wet thundery days in summer, and this looks like one of them I'm afraid. Probably an inside rather than an outside day?

Sarah was gazing directly into his eyes and he returned her look. She smiled broadly, and he smiled back, looking pointedly at her breasts. Then he glanced at Sue and Anne.

Umm, I guess I'm the expert here: You want me to make some suggestions?

The three women nodded.

Okay, its Galleries, Museums, and Ancient Monuments Day then, he smiled. And the insides thereof. And maybe some shopping, if you're up for that?

They nodded enthusiastically and he continued: I know Anne is particularly interested in interior design and I'd love to show her the William Morris Gallery. And the Liberty store. But how about you two, Sue and Sarah?

Umm, said Sue. Maybe we'd prefer something else? She looked at Sarah.

Why don't you just direct us to something interesting and go show Anne what she wants, Sarah said. She wasn't entirely happy about the idea of being away from him, but understood Anne's special interests and respected her old friend.

He gave Sarah and Sue precise directions to the Victoria & Albert Museum in South Kensington and then on to Harrod's. They agreed to meet up in Harrod's basement tearoom around one pm. Then the four headed for the tube and went their different ways.

Anne and he settled into the train for the long run out to Walthamstow. After a couple of stops they managed to find seats together and spoke companionably as he explained more about William Morris. Part of what drove his interest in honest natural design, John said, was that he was an early Socialist. A Marxist, in fact, when to hold such beliefs was deeply unfashionable in nineteenth-century London.

He recognised that Anne was a bit uncomfortable with this information about someone who had been a design icon for her, but it was the truth. John's mind wandered a little and he jerked back to the present as the train was entering Finsbury Park. Sorry Anne, I was just remembering something from a long time ago. Forgive me please?

She smiled at him: That's okay John. I was just trying to get my head round the fact, that someone I have always really admired was a Marxist!

Hey Anne, it's just a bit of history. And you've had a few famous Marxists in California. Angela Davis? Herbert Marcuse? Not to mention the film industry victims of McCarthyism?

Her brow furrowed: Yeah, I remember these names from when I was in college. I went on marches then. Vietnam, that stuff. She smiled at him. But I'm a pretty settled middle-class woman now John. Way past all that.

Eventually the train arrived at Walthamstow. It was quite a long walk to the Gallery, along a not-so-prepossessing suburban shopping street. Then they turned left onto a main road and there was the Gallery, a fine Georgian building set in parkland.

Anne gasped: John, what a beautiful building.

Wait till we get inside Anne. It was Morris's family home when he was growing up. This was on the edge of Epping Forest then, somewhere deeply rural, far from London.

They explored the rooms on two floors and he tried to explain what they were seeing. The progression of Morris's design work, in textiles, wallpaper, furniture, and book production. And the art of those who worked with and followed him: from Pre-Raphaelites to the Arts and Crafts Movement.

At the desk as they left, John bought Anne a copy of Morris's utopian novel, 'News from Nowhere'. I've read an awful lot of utopian novels, he laughed. But William Morris and Marge Piercy were the only ones to imagine worlds in which I might like to live.

Anne sighed deeply: Thank you so much for showing me this John. It helps me put so much in place. He obviously played a much larger part in the history of design than I had imagined. And, kissing him briefly on the cheek, thanks for the book. Now, shouldn't we be getting back to my friends? And -- she glanced querulously at him -- your lover?

He smiled into her eyes. Yes, Sarah is my lover, Anne.

It was pouring rain now and they caught a passing cab back to the tube station, then boarded a quiet train. She allowed her body to settle comfortably and press him a little as they rode: You know John; I'm getting to really like you? Please be good to Sarah. She deserves it.


After a change of trains, they emerged and made it to Harrod's basement tearoom. And found the other women. Hi lassies, he shouted across the room: Hope you had a great morning?

The V&A was incredible, Sue said. And, added Sarah, so is Harrod's. Not that we've had time to see much. This store is just gigantic! So what does our afternoon hold for us John?

Mmm, depends entirely on what you want, he said. I thought maybe we should start at the beginning of the City, The Tower of London?

Sarah said: You showed it to us from the cruise boat, John?

He nodded and the three women agreed to the plan. Go take us man, Sue urged.

He settled their lunch-bill and they headed for the tube. Thirty minutes later they stood before the ancient grim fortress and looked at the long queue. Fortunately the rain had stopped. Sarah was before him and he pinched her bum playfully. Anne was watching him now. They moved into place in the queue and he fondled Sarah's ass before him. He felt her squirm and pressed hard into her.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, I want you now.

She slithered back on him: I need you in me honey, I'm so hot.

Sue and Anne were watching them closely now and he spoke to them: Hi girls, hope you're having a great time?

We just want everyone to be fine, Sue said, a slightly acid tone to her voice. Especially Sarah.

He recognised the concern of Sarah's friends: You two DO NOT need to worry about her welfare, he told them. It is at the forefront of my mind. Every aspect of it!

Sue burst out laughing: Huh, I think we've heard that one before, haven't we girls? Anne blushed intriguingly and John sensed there might be a story there but he filed the thought away.

Sarah was a bit indignant at her friends: Hey you two, lay off him, will ya. It just so happens that he pushes a lot of the right buttons for me. And -- glaring at Sue -- you keep your hands off him, right? He's mine!

They laughed together as the queue inched forward. When the other two women were preoccupied momentarily, he thrust his hard cock into Sarah's bumcrack again. You know I need to fuck you now Sarah? He growled.

She quivered against him: All morning I've been thinking about our sex yesterday. I had to go to the bathroom in the V&A; I was so fucking hot for you. But the girls came in and I didn't want them to hear me cum, so I am one seriously frustrated woman now.

Mmm, that's what I wanted to hear Sarah. How would it be if we could find a quiet corner in here, in the Tower of London?

Damn honey, I'm so wet I'm dripping down my leg at the thought, feel me. He glanced round and then slid his fingers up her thigh beneath the short skirt. She was soaking. He sucked his fingers, then turned her to face him, drew her hand to the bulge in his kilt. She slipped her hand under the fabric unbidden and grasped his pulsing cock hard.

I need you to stick that into my pussy, she whispered.

Very soon baby. I have to have you too, he growled back. So, we'll just need to find somewhere I can obey my lover's request. But I suspect the prospects for sex in the Tower are even more difficult than gaining membership of the mile-high-club. He smiled in Sarah's eyes. They were glazed with lust.

The queue shuffled forward a couple of yards and they reached the pay-booth. He got a guidebook with their tickets and the three women looked at it as they waited to join the guided tour. He whispered to Sarah as the tour began: Just you stay close to me my sexgoddess. If we see an opportunity we need to grab it quick.

The tour began with the medieval outer battlements: the youngest part of the building. John had memories from earlier visits that the best opportunities might lie within the Norman White Tower, the millennium-old heart of the building. But then, on previous visits, he hadn't been looking for a quiet corner to fuck Sarah's brains out. Fortunately, the guide absorbed the attention of Anne and Sue. John was throbbing with excitement and kept fingering up under Sarah's skirt to feel and taste the cunthoney dripping down her thighs.

Finally he saw an opportunity. They were at the tail-end of the guided tour, Anne and Sue at the front with the guide. He saw a door labelled 'Staff Only: No Admittance'. He tried the door and it opened. It was a long narrow wash-room with a toilet at the end under a small window. He grabbed Sarah and pushed her roughly inside, shutting the door and bolting it.

She turned to look at him and he read her sexual need and just a hint of fear. John, we can't really, she whispered. It was just a fantasy...

He ignored her uncertainty and pulled her to him. Sarah, you and I are going to fuck in the Tower of London, he stated. The only question is, where am I going to fuck you honey?

He pulled her face to his and felt her mouth slack with desire against his lips. She moaned as she felt his fingers part her pussy-lips, and he sensed her doubts fleeing. Oh John, I need you in my pussy now honey.

You know what that means, my naughty lassie? It means I want your tight bum clenched round me.

No John, you can't, not here. We don't have any lube... you'll hurt me.

But he was fingering her wet cunt and knew she would do as he wanted. Besides, he did have lube; he'd brought some from his flat. It was in his sporran. He had a very dirty thought, and clenching her hair in his fist, dragged her so she was bent forward over the toilet.

I need to fuck your arse whilst you are peeing, Sarah, he grunted. Pull your arsecheeks apart for me, he demanded. I have lube, it won't hurt. He tugged at her hair as she leaned forward, slid his hot cock into her pussy and fingered her wet slit, teased her throbbing clit with a finger. I told you to pull your arsecheeks apart, slut.

He squirted lube as her hands pulled herself wide for him and she felt his finger probe her anus. She jerked as it entered her.

He eased his cock at her tight anus and thrust. She was tight and unprepared, but he didn't care, thrust harder and his cocktip squeezed through her sphincter. He gasped: And now I need to feel you pissing as I fuck your arse, he growled.

Ohhh John, you are a totally filthy bastard. She contracted her muscles so her sphincter tightened on him, sensed the trickle of pee from her urethra. One hand moved to tease her clit as the other was on the wall now, holding herself up against his increasingly hard thrusts. She could feel his cock growing as he fucked her ass, and felt the spasm rise deep from within herself.

And you Sarah are the naughtiest woman I have ever been inside. His balls tightened and he groaned: And you are about to make me explode into your tight arse. Are you nearly there my sweet slut?

Her ass pulsed around him and she spasmed hard as her fingers moved frantically on herself: Fuck me hard now John. Ohh how I need you to fill me.

His cock pounded into her till she sensed the surge through him: You are my dirty lover John. And they pulsed deep and close, till he had expended himself. He twisted her up and round. She could feel the pee dribbling down her legs. He kissed her mouth then, lovingly, as the last of his spunk dripped on her soft belly from his cock, and she knew this was more than just the best sex she could remember.

Then there was a rattle on the door, and she jumped off him, noticed his flaccid cock sag as she did so.

Who the hell is in there? An authoritative voice sounded.

Sorry, Sarah cried, it's just us. My friend was taken ill suddenly, he's just vomited. We'll be out in a minute.

She had no idea where her inventiveness had come from, but she was momentarily quite proud of herself. She slapped John's face and watched his amazed expression with amusement. Come on John, she urged, didn't you hear? We need to get outa here now!

He was still recovering from his intense orgasm as she drew him to his feet and helped him adjust his clothing. She wiped her thighs and flushed the toilet, pulled him to her for a kiss. John, she whispered, that was the best assfuck ever. Thank you honey. But now, we really have to go. He was still looking slightly dazed and something deep in her was proud that she could do that to him. She adjusted her clothing and unbolted the door.

A male attendant stood there, not looking happy. I'm so sorry, she smiled, he just seemed to be taken with something. I know it says 'Staff Only', but believe me, it really was an emergency. John was acting the part, and she hurried him on to rejoin their tour. Well, she hadn't really told the attendant any lies, had she?

The tour group was in the room holding the English Royal regalia when they caught up. Fortunately Anne and Sue seemed so absorbed in what the guide was saying. Sarah doubted they'd noticed her absence, or John's.

But as they were moving out of the venerable building towards the exit, Anne leaned into her and whispered: You naughty girl. D'ya think I don't know what you've been up to? When she noticed Sarah's expression she smiled. Don't worry honey, I'm just jealous. Maybe ya could sorta lend him to me sometime? 'S okay, only kidding! Sue and John were deep in conversation and didn't notice the exchange.

It was after four when they assembled on the grass outside, watching the famous ravens pecking scraps of food from the grass.

John seemed quite recovered by now, Sarah noticed.

So ladies, the afternoon is still young. And -- he raised his eyes to the horizon -- the weather seems to be improving. We're on the edge of The City now, maybe a quick wander round? Have a look at St Paul's Cathedral, the Bank of England, and the Monument to the Great Fire of London? But maybe a break for tea or coffee first?

The last suggestion brought eager nods and they found a Starbucks. Not exactly traditionally English, he said. But it's here. Will this do?

The ladies smiled and said together: We live for Starbucks.

They settled on a table near the door. Whilst the rain had gone, it was still overpoweringly close, muggy, as only London in summer can be.

John enquired: Once we're done here, are you up for a wee walk round the City? Sue nodded, assuming command again, he noticed. Hey man, we're tourists, whaddya think we'd want to see?

I'll take that as a 'yes' then? He looked at Anne and Sarah, but Sue seemed to have spoken for them. And this evening, he asked, any thoughts or preferences?

You're the boss here honey, Anne said, patting his hand fleetingly.

I had thought, said John, of a traditional London pub meal, in a very old pub in Covent Garden. I can vouch that the food's excellent. But if anyone has any other ideas?

The three women nodded: That sounds just great, said Sarah. She patted his knee, asserting her possession.

But I had also wondered, he said...Well, wondered whether you might enjoy a bit more company than just me with your dinner? I have a couple of good friends and I checked to see if they're busy tonight. They're not. I promise you they are decent upstanding men, he smiled, and they are great company. If you'd like them to join us I can give them a ring?

He watched the women's' faces. Sarah clearly liked the idea. Anne's face was impenetrable, but Sue's lit up at the suggestion.

That sure sounds like a great plan to me, she enthused. How about it gals?

Anne concurred and John pulled his mobile from the sporran. Maybe around seven-thirty? He questioned the women. And the arrangement was confirmed.


When they left Starbucks, he let his arm move round Sarah's waist. She pulled closer, so he knew it was okay with her friends. They wandered for a bit over an hour and he told them of the Great Fire which had all but destroyed medieval London, and Christopher Wrenn's commission to build St Paul's in its aftermath. The three women thought it looked a bit like the White House and he explained the universality of neo-classical architecture, from Rome to Paris, London, St Petersburg, Edinburgh, and the United States. Anne, as he expected, was particularly interested.

When they inspected the more restrained facade of the Bank of England, John's Scots patriotism made him explain that this, the world's first Central Bank, had in fact been created by a Scotsman, some years before Scotland and England became one united state.

Sarah giggled at him: John, to hear you talk, you would think Scots had invented the world!

He restrained himself. He believed the evidence showed that Scots had contributed far more than their share to the world, given that the country's population had barely ever moved above the five million mark. But he knew that patriotic crowing wasn't a good idea so he bit his tongue.

The three women were clearly flagging by now. It was around five-thirty. He asked if they wanted to go back to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. They all did. It was past the worst of rush-hour so he hailed a taxi and bundled them all in. They were back at their hotel in fifteen minutes.

He kissed Sarah and moved to get back to his flat. I need an hour or so to myself, he said. So I can be good for you tonight.

Why go back honey? She said as her arms tightened round his waist. Why don't you just come back up to my room? We can both grab a shower and a bit of rest and be fresh to meet your friends at the pub?

No, my sweet slut, I really need a change of clothes. I'll see you soon.


David and Ian were already there waiting for them in the downstairs bar of the narrow old pub. We've reserved a table upstairs for eight pm; Ian smiled, as John introduced them all. Now ladies, what can I get you to drink? Ian asked. If you haven't tried proper English ale before, may I suggest you sample it? Or, of course, anything else if you prefer?

The three women chatted for a minute, a bit bedazzled by the enormous array of drinks available at the bar. It was sure different from anything they'd seen before, even in so-called 'English' theme-pubs back home.

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