Take Me, Tom Pt. 33-35

As always, a huge thanks to Kenjisato for his editing skills. Any and all mistakes are mine because I don't always listen to him. Thanks to Paolo for his continuing support and

advice. I'm tryin' to edit myself a bit more than usual by cutting out some of the

superfluous stuff. You may not pick up on this 'til later chapters, but they are in the works. I hope. Thanks to everyone who has been following this tome. God knows where or when it will end. Not soon enough for some of you, but others, I hope you are enjoying the ride as much as I am. During their two week break in London, I am 'trying' to concentrate on their growing relationship. Some may appreciate the tour guide, others not so much. I'm thinking it's an integral part of the story ie. Chrissie gets a feel for her brother's life, and perhaps an idea of what their life would be like.

Bear with me, only a few more days!

Chapter 33 ( paired with the very end of Chapter 32)

"Fuck off," I said, lovingly. "By the way, we have a meeting on Friday at the V&A. I called Matthew and he's free to have a chat. This is just a prelim, so we'll play it by ear. I need you to think about how we approach this. Did you bring a copy of your CV with you? I propose, and see if you agree, that we tell him as much of our position as we need to, and see what the structure is there. They may not be hiring at all, or even have a hire from-within policy, in the first instance. Either way, he's a nice guy, and we get to visit the V&A!" I said.

"Damn, Tom. You HAVE been busy today! Friday sounds wonderful, though. I know after all we've talked about today, you know, visas and all, this may not happen, but I do think it's worth a visit. Thank you so much, Tom. You just keep coming out with all these surprises!" she gushed.

"I love spending time with you, Tom. You...make me happy," she sighed.

"As you do me, Chrissie. These are precious days for us now. We can do this, you know?" I said.

"We are," she sighed.

The sun was setting and there was just this peaceful calm around us. Long may it last.

I put some music on, and Chrissie grabbed her book, and picked up where she had left off. I pulled out a legal pad and started scribbling notes, for work and for us. I had always found that writing things down helped put them in perspective. I tried not to get too far ahead of myself.

"So, Chrissie, what's up tomorrow?" I asked her, even though she was deep into her book.

She looked up, smiling, luckily, and said, "I'm not too sure. I'd like to head over to the Tate Britain, and maybe over near Covent Garden, you said? The National Portrait Gallery is there, so I'd love to have a walk around there. Any other ideas," she asked.

"Damn, where do I start? You've picked out a few good ones there, darling. You can bring my backpack if you want. Throw some water and a snack in there, if you want. Not that you won't find a good place to eat anyway! You, or we, should head over to Borough Market at some point. It's a wonderful food market. That'll take your breath away.

Kelmscott House is lovely. If you love the Pre-Raphaelites as much as I do, you'll love it," I replied. "If you need any ideas, just ask Markus. He's great for finding these out of the way places," I told her.

"Wonderful, Tom. Thanks. I'll find my way somewhere," she laughed. "Will you be able to spend any time with me this week? I understand, if not but..." she asked.

"Maybe Wednesday? I'll see how much I can get sorted tomorrow. We'll have time, sweetheart, okay?" I reassured her. "Coming to bed, darling," I said.

We turned off the few lights that were on, and we stood in front of the large windows, both of us looking out over the skyline. I wrapped my arms around her, and we both sighed.

"We'll remember this for years to come, Tom. I...I love the memories we're making," she gushed.

I took her hand, and walked her to the bedroom. My fingers pushed her red hair away from her face, as I leaned in and kissed those lips I was getting familiar with. I couldn't help it, but my hands crept under her loose t-shirt, her unencumbered breasts heaved as my fingers came closer. I cupped both, filling my hand just so, and gently fondled them. Chrissie just smirked at me.

"What?" I smiled.

"Nuthin'," she giggled. "I just love that you cannot keep your hands off me," she grinned.

I slapped her tight butt and sighed, "Bed, darling." I should have known. She did the slowest strip tease for me, even though she had but two pieces of clothing on. I was a captive audience.

"You are insatiable, aren't you, Chrissie?"

"Complaining?" she smirked.

I went to her, picked up her slight body and threw her on the bed. Her soft, coy look spurred me on. I grabbed the edges of her leggings, and slowly pulled them down, over her hips, Chrissie lifting her ass, and I pulled them down further. I dragged them down her toned legs, over her little feet and I let them drop to the floor. Chrissie placed both hands over her vagina, hiding, or protecting, her womanhood from my eyes. I bent down, and kissed her hands. They stayed there. I kissed them again, my tongue lingering on her fingers. I tried to stick my tongue between her firmly clasped digits, but she wouldn't relent. I kept my intentions up, kissing and licking, 'til she spread her fingers slightly. I was able to slip my tongue through the meagre defense, but only so far. I could hear her faint giggles, knowing she was loving this as much as I. I had breached one hand, just the other stood in my way.

My hands were on her thighs, slowly rubbing both. I could have so easily pulled her hands away, her recently fucked pussy then open to me, but we both preferred this way.

My insistent tongue continued the gentle onslaught. I considered biting her fingers, as a

last resort, but it was too early for that. Her fingers were wet with my saliva, as I continued

to lavish my lips and tongue on her. I felt her spread her legs, just a bit, and I knew the

strategy was working. Chrissie relented, after much soft persuasion from my tongue, and moved one hand away, leaving the guard almost breached. I kissed and adored this last shield, knowing that the foray was all but won. Chrissie's one free hand was on the back of my head, her fingers combing my hair, her breath growing deeper. My firm, and determined, tongue continued the barrage, probing her resistance with every lick.

Chrissie gave up the prize, somewhat unwillingly, but my tongue slipped through her fingers. Her protection having failed, Chrissie surrendered, my tongue tasting the plunder I was after.

I lashed her, now free, labia, my tongue relishing her musky scent. I buried my face in her used cunt, and rubbed my face over her, my tongue snaking between her loose lips, probing for the moisture we both loved. I raised my eyes from her pussy, and looked at Chrissie, her eyes closed, and her little fingers playing with her tits. I licked her elixir, my tongue flicking over her hooded clit, with every touch. I could feel Chrissie's unwavering hands on my head, trying to direct my mouth where she needed it. I let her use my mouth, and she moved it, to and fro, up and down, using me for her pleasure.

My determined tongue flicked over her gushy pussy, lapping up her sap as she leaked her essence onto my tongue and face. I could only hear Chrissie's constant and unrelenting 'ahhhhs' and 'uhhhhs', her erotic little sounds, urging me on.

She was lifting her hips, mashing my face firmly on her cunt, fucking my tongue, which was like a small hummingbird on her pussy and clit, intent on feeling my sister cum on my face.

I felt as if I was French-kissing her femininity, tasting her, feeling every muscle inside her. I could feel her begin to tremor, her body tightening up 'til she spread her legs, lifted her pussy to me and came, gushing her copious cream onto my face, and into my mouth. I felt the little streams of her cum, and swallowed as much as I could. Her taste was luscious, her scent permeating my face and hair.

I pulled away to catch my breath, but Chrissie pulled my head back down, and squirted over me, her pungent surge doing nothing to dissuade me from moving. Chrissie was such a bad sister, and I loved her for that.

I continued to wipe my face over her, now-sodden pussy, revelling that I was able to satisfy my sister this way. Her exertions had calmed down, so I laid my head on her wet pussy, and sighed. I could hear Chrissie quietly giggling to herself. I could only smile, as I felt her tenderly slapping my head and gasping. I slapped her thigh and laughed with her.

After we had calmed our hearts down, I crept up my sister's body, and laid my head on a breast, gently taking it in my mouth, and sucking the warm orb. Chrissie sighed, and ran her fingers through my hair.

"Up here, Tom," she beckoned.

I moved up the twelve inches and kissed her red, other lips, devouring each other in kind.

"Don't ever stop loving me, Tom," she whispered.

"As if, Chrissie. As if..."

I played with her breast, just touching her lightly.

"Sorry if I, uh, wet the bed," she mumbled.

"Don't worry, we can sort that out if need be, okay?" I assured her. At the very least, any embarrassment was gone.

We laid there in our individual glows, holding each other, our warmth seeping into the

other.

Chrissie had her post-orgasmic shine about her. I slid from the bed, and went to the kitchen, pouring us each a drink.

"I love being here, Tom. Please, believe me. Holidays, whatever, it's us, all right?" she asked, a tinge of melancholy seeping in.

"'Night, Tom,' she sighed, and turned over, her bare ass pressed up against my equally bare cock.

Tuesday

I woke before my alarm, and lay there, thinking about the day ahead. I thought I could wrap everything outstanding today. Time would tell, I guess. I turned over and looked at Chrissie. She had rolled around during the night and was facing me. As usual, I swept the red hair from her face, making her stir. She let out a long sigh, and tentatively opened her eyes to a thin slit. She mumbled something, probably calling me creepy or something, but I let it go and, as silently as possible, laughed at her. She must have felt my body shaking because she opened her slits a bit more. I did hear a disdainful, "Humph," which made me laugh even harder. Her hand flopped out from the duvet, and she attempted, poorly, to slap my body.

"Aren't we the cheerful one this morning?" I whispered, facetiously.

"Lemme alone," she sighed.

"Not a chance, darling,' I said, as she pulled her arms out, stretched, and yawned.

She turned her head to me, and whispered, "'Morning, darling," smiled, and kissed me. "Whatcha want for breakfast, darling?" she asked.

"Waffles!" I jokingly said.

"Good luck then," she grunted.

I laughed, and rolled over on top of her, pulling the duvet down from her chest. I leaned down and kissed each breast. I could hear her murmur a soft, "Mmmm."

My hands roamed, gently, over her still-waking body. She wrapped her arms around my head, and pulled me down for another good morning kiss, stale breath and all.

"You really want waffles, Tom?" she asked.

"Nah," I chuckled. "I'll figure something out. You stay here." I finally got up, and headed to

the shower. I smiled at Chrissie's gels, all lined up. I turned the shower on just as Chrissie slipped in with me.

She hugged my back, and whispered, "I'll make you waffles if you really want them," she grinned.

"I'd rather eat you, Chrissie," I laughed. She slapped my chest, so I gathered that meant no.

We hugged as I washed her hair, Chrissie cooing with every firm stroke on her head. We touched and fondled each other, neither of us getting too much of the other.

The morning went slow, which is all I could ask for. I picked her up, my hands holding her ass, her loose robe opening seductively to me, and kissed this beautiful woman goodbye.

I walked to the Tube station and was at work in twenty minutes. People were milling about, their day off to a slow start. I met up with Lucy and Nigel, so we had a catchup meeting and laid out what needed to be finished today. They were both optimistic everything was in hand. I had the last meeting with Jeremy, although I would pop 'round next week before I finally left.

I invited a few people around to the flat on Sunday. They could meet Chrissie, catch up and enjoy the day together, outside of work. Jeremy was pleased with the handover, and that's all that mattered.

We worked straight through, only stopping for a quick lunch.

Chrissie POV

Tom does make me smile. Every morning, I catch him staring at me. I'm still slightly

embarrassed, if truth be told. I'm just not used to this unabashed attention. It's something I'm getting so used to, though. Loving it actually. I only hoped this was not the proverbial Honeymoon Period. For some reason, I thought not. I cleaned the kitchen and dressed for my next day out! I was so excited! I chose an above-the-knee, tan skirt, and paired it with one of my silk blouses, this one a muted cream. I pulled the obligatory stockings up my legs, smoothing them out when finished, wishing Tom was here to smooth them out for me.

I checked my bag for all those essentials I would need today. I had my maps, just in case. I walked to the Underground, heading for the Tate Britain, my first stop. I had to ask for directions, embarrassed, but still.

Again, I felt so carefree. Having this 'me' time is something I had missed, as much I as loved being a mother and provider. I thought of how much my life was changing, now that Tom was finally in it. I felt like the luckiest woman...which I was!

The building was absolutely amazing. I read that it was originally a prison! It's huge, open and airy. The 'feel' of the place was wonderful. I grabbed a guide brochure, and headed for the Moore sculptures, something I was keen on seeing in person. They had room after room of his magnificent work. I was simply in awe of his work. I'd love to curate his pieces at the Art Institute.

My next stop was the Turners. I sat there, stunned at his breathtaking work. Sure, I've

seen his work in books and catalogues, but to be up close was a treat for me.

I was taking notes as I walked slowly along. I had to talk with Standen about raising an exhibition sometime in the future. As I was taking my notes, a man walked over and sat on the bench with me. I turned my head, and smiled politely. He was exceptionally well dressed, great shoes, good looking, probably mid-forties. He apologized for interrupting me, but was wondering who the notes were for. Was I a writer, maybe a critic? This guy was smooth! I replied that I was 'just' an interested tourist. He caught my accent. I guess that gave him the opening he was looking for.

"American?" he asked.

"You noticed? Yes, I am," I replied, slightly sardonically.

"I'm Gerard. And you are?" he asked.

Fuck off, buster, is what I should say, I thought. Or, busy.

But instead, "Christine," I answered, perhaps too sharply.

"Are you visiting for long," he asked.

"Not too," I said. "My husband is in private equity. We're here on an acquisition, then we're going back to the States," I replied. I could tell he wanted me to ask about him. Men, eh? He took my offhanded manner the way it was meant. "Wonderful. Well, enjoy the rest of the exhibit," he said, and lurked away. I could only imagine that some 'Yummy Mummy' would be enchanted by him. Or maybe he was a genuine man, who knows.

I finished my notes, with photos, and headed to another room. I walked into a room, plastered with Rothkos, one of Tom's favourites. I preferred the pieces we had at the Institute, though.

I spent the better part of two hours, and was getting hungry so I took a walk, not intending to get lost, but...I found a nice, comfortable little bistro and found a seat. I ordered a white wine, and a salad, and thought I would call Em. She picked up right away. I was always so excited to hear her voice, especially with what was happening in both our lives.

"Did you get my photos?" I asked.

"Yes. You're teasing me, aren't you? I'm SO jealous, Chrissie," she laughed.

"I know. If truth be told, I know, but you know me, I can be impetuous sometimes," I

laughed. "Anyway, this guy tried to pick me up at the Tate!" I told her, anxiously.

"NO! Tell me! What happened? God, Chrissie!" she screamed.

I told her all about the guy, and how I shut him down. Em was giggling throughout the whole story.

"You know, a few months ago, I would have gone for a coffee or lunch with him. He was extremely passable," I laughed. "He handled himself well, was well-dressed, articulate, and not bad looking. But I didn't even entertain the idea. I must be in love, eh?" I laughed,

and Em joined me.

"Anyway, darling, I'm off to the Barbican for some more culture. You get yourself ready, okay? Miss you," I sighed.

"And I you, Chrissie," she said.

I finished my lunch, paid and headed off, more Tube rides for me. It would take me a while to reach the Barbican Gallery. As I walked, I saw a row of little boutique shops, and

thought I'd see what they had. This was a high-end place! Oops. I spotted a wonderful

selection of perfumes and men's colognes. I thought, as long as I'm here...The lady who helped me was sweet, not overbearing, but extremely good. We talked for a bit, and of course, she commented on my accent. God, does Tom get this all the time, too? I told her I was looking for a cologne for my...husband. It was getting easier and easier to say that word. My heart leapt every time I said it today. She asked what he wore now. I didn't know, embarrassing as it sounds. And he's my husband? I fibbed and said he didn't have a favorite, but changed scents around.

I told her he liked the fruity notes, but also something a bit woody and masculine. She smiled. Why, I didn't know. Goodness knows what I just said to elicit that response! She showed me a few, putting the scent on a tester. I inhaled quite a few, none of them quite what I would fall over Tom for. I thought we were getting nowhere fast, and was about to say 'thanks' and go.

She gave me the tester of almost, the last one, 'til I had given up on the idea. I inhaled, and I was stunned. I took the fragrance in and thought about it, how the different layers worked, and what it would smell like on Tom. I smiled.

"What...what is this? It's lovely. I can see him wearing this," I smiled at her.

"That's a normal response to this, ma'am. It takes you by surprise, doesn't it? The different ingredients slowly mix together, and certainly work. This cologne is called Creed. The company has its roots going back to 1760. They started in London, but they moved to Paris in the mid-1850s," she said, and with every word, I knew this was going to be

expensive. Damn my nose!

I thought about it, as I fought for time. Dare I ask?

"And, how much is it?" I asked, as if I knew what I was doing.

"The 100ml is £240, ma'am," she said, as cool as can be.

I thought I'd have to brazen this out, or else I would blow my gift budget in one go! Not that Tom isn't worth it but, c'mon, £240 for cologne?

"You've been so very kind. Thank you for your attention. I love my husband, but this is just a throwaway gift. But thank you," I said, controlling the situation, as I made my way to the door, and fresh air.

I walked out and just kept walking, not even thinking about turning around. And, damn, I said it again. Husband! My phone 'pinged', and I saw it was Tom. I walked into a doorway to take the call.

"Hi, darling!" I smiled. "How's your day going?" I asked.

"Not bad, Chrissie. We should have everything together here. I may pop in next week for a few hours, but I'll know better by the end of the day. How's your day? Where are you now?" he asked.