The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 18ibyPAUL C©
(Copyright 2003. All rights reserved).
All events and characters are fictitious.
It was thirty minutes and another beer before I could get away from Harve and Howie. I had to tell them twice all I knew of the history of Roddrego's family and that of the mine. They told me that the situation was deteriorating in the south of the country. The government had assured the world that everything was under control and that it was just some minor unrest. I hadn't even thought to look in the papers or watch the news on the TV that morning. Not that Heather had given me much time to in any case.
I entered my room and checked on the briefcase inside my suitcase. I was beginning to think it was much more important than I was led to believe. I realised I didn't know which room they had put Heather in and I didn't think it wise to ask when I parted from Harve and Howie in the foyer.
I picked up the telephone and was connected to room service. I gave Heather's name and asked to be connected to her.
"Hello." Her voice came clear and bright on the other end of the line.
"Hello." I replied. "Where are you?"
"All alone in this hotel room."
"I know." I hoped she wasn't going to get awkward. "It's just that they are friends and Howie's wife is an old friend of Jenny's and they are bound to tell her if we are seen together."
"That Howie didn't seem very married in the lift."
"Why?" I didn't want for us to have to fend off Howie as well. "What did he do?"
"He had his hand on my backside as soon as the doors closed. I'm grateful there was an attendant in the lift."
"Which room are you in?" I asked.
"Five-eleven." She replied. "You?"
"Five-fourteen. Just down the corridor."
"Are you coming here or should I come to you?"
"Best I come to you, I think." She continued. "Just in case Howie comes back. He hinted he might. We must make plans for tonight. Where are you going to take me?"
"Ah." I paused again.
"Come on. Out with it."
"I have to have dinner with Harve and his wife, Martha. She's Howie's wife's, Carole's mother."
"They did well for themselves. Getting both generations."
I'd never thought of it like that.
"I'm on my way. Be there in ten seconds."
She put the phone down.
I looked around. I felt I needed somewhere to hide.
There was a tap on the door. She was quick. I opened it as the lift doors at the end of the corridor opened. Tall with blonde hair. That was all that registered then the door was closed and Heather's lips were against mine.
She pushed her pubic mound hard against my prick and balls as her tongue forced its way between my lips. I could feel myself becoming hard. She moved against me. I became harder. I placed my hand upon her breast through her blouse and bra and squeezed it gently. My other hand I placed against her ass cheek as she moved her hips from side to side.
There was a tap on the door.
I pulled my head back and took a deep breath.
"Yes." I called, trying to hold Heather still by placing my other hand on her unoccupied ass cheek. "Who is it?"
"Louise." Came the reply.
"Who?" Heather whispered.
"Howie's sister." I whispered back. "Quick hide."
"In here." I urged, holding open the closet door. "Quickly."
"You had better be very nice to me later." She said, then pecked me on the cheek and stepped inside.
I closed the door behind her and opened the door to Louise.
I'd almost forgotten what a classy bird she was.
"Hello Paul." She said moving very close to me, close enough for her pubic mound to contact my still hard prick and gave me a kiss on the lips.
"Hmm." She murmured pulling away from me with a smile on her face.
"Hello." I said, trying to face her with my back towards her to hide the state of my prick.
"I had just dropped in to see Pa and Martha and Howie said I would find you here."
"Please sit down." I said indicating the nearest bed and sat on it myself, crossing my legs.
She sat down beside me. She could make even doing that a class act in itself.
Her dress rode up to mid thigh. She pulled at the hem then released it.
"Why isn't Jenny with you?" Her nostrils twitched.
Could a woman pick up the scent of another?
"She had to stay in England to finish her exams."
"When does she become a teacher?"
Her nostrils twitched again. I could smell Heather's perfume. Taste her lipstick on my lips. Mixed with Louise's.
"I am coming to dinner tonight."
"There will be a lot there."
"The board meeting tomorrow."
She opened her slender handbag and took out a tiny piece of cloth. She licked a corner and dabbed at the side of my mouth.
I looked at her face. The carefully sculptured hair that hid the marks on her face from the fire in the Rogers' farm. She replaced the handkerchief in her bag and looked straight into my eyes. Then she looked down at my hands. Taking one she turned it over and looked at the faint white lines, the scars from when I had used them to beat out the flames in her hair before carrying her naked body from the house.
"They are much better."
"They are fine." I assured her.
She reached out and ran a fingertip along the thin line above my eyebrow where a piece of glass had cut it once.
She turned my hand over and examined the scars left by the panther on my wrist and forearm.
"So many marks."
There were others beneath my clothes. But then she carried her own. On her side from a bullet just after the wedding of Howie and Carole. On her breasts from old man Rogers' knife. And in her mind from his rape.
It had been nearly eighteen months before she would talk again and only then after I had made her cum with my mouth in Jamaica.
"What are you working on at the moment?" I asked.
She had been an up and coming investigative reporter on a New York paper before coming to England that time. I hadn't seen her very much during our visit in the summer to Harve's New England farm. She had told us she had her own apartment in New York and was working again for the newspaper.
"I'm writing articles about this revolution in South America." She said, taking a strand of my hair and tucking it away behind my ear.
"I'm going there."
Her eyes widened suddenly.
"What on earth for?"
I told her the story about the mine and my grandfather and Roddrego.
"A Ruby mine." She repeated. "Quite a few Rubies have been coming onto the market over the past few years."
"When are you going?"
"We, I mean I fly down to Miami tomorrow and then down to the Capitol on Tuesday. We should be back in Miami on Thursday."
"I don't think you should go."
"I have to. What about my Grandfather? There is a flight from their tomorrow, I think. Otherwise the next flight out is on Thursday."
"Have you heard from him?"
"I haven't but my mother has."
Why was everybody suddenly so concerned? This had started out as a long journey to escort two strong willed old men home. I was beginning to get very worried. What about Heather? I had to think of a way of leaving her behind.
Then there was the briefcase.
This was starting to become complicated.
I sat with my legs curled up beneath my body and took a sip from the glass of wine Shirley poured for me. She sat on the sofa at the end nearest to me flushed pink from her own bath. It was warm in the room. The wine was cool and sweet.
"Where's Paul?" She suddenly asked as if just noticing there was somebody missing. "I noticed his car wasn't here when I came in."
"He will be in New York by now." I replied.
"What!" She exclaimed. "What is he doing there?"
"It all happened on Saturday morning."
I smiled to myself. It had. Two shags and a good licking.
"Well, Mary called to tell us about David."
"What about David?" She interrupted.
I hadn't had a chance to fill her in as we passed on the landing as her bath had run and I had dried myself and got into my night-clothes.
"He's broken his ankle and couldn't go to South America."
I told her about Paul heading off to South America and my staying with David and Mary the previous night. Then about meeting Ron after church and again about his coming round to visit David.
"That was nice of him." She observed.
"Yes. We all thought so."
"Oh, Mary was there as well."
"Not at first but she came home before he left."
"Pity? What do you mean."
"Come on Jenny." She took a sip from her own glass of wine. "We both know you have a crush on him and, going by the way he looks at you, he has one on you."
How could she know?
"Come on. It's written all over your faces."
"Do you think Paul suspects?"
"You'd have to write it down for him to read before he'd notice."
"Hey. Don't talk about Paul like that."
Especially when you used to let his father shag you. I could have added.
"I didn't mean it in a bad way. It's just that he is a little blind to these things. It's probably why he'll never be unfaithful to you. I think a girl would have to stand naked in front of him and offer it on a plate before he'd realise. When will you see Ron again?"
"Who said I was?"
"Come on. The way you were going on about him I was half expecting you to tell me you'd already done it this afternoon."
"Well, we didn't"
There was enough hesitation in my reply. She seized upon it.
"But you wanted to?"
"I don't know."
"Come on. You can tell me."
"It's the thought of it."
"I understand. It can be exciting."
"It's just the thought. Not like..."
If we were going to tell each other secrets I might as well hear some of hers as well.
"You and David."
"What do you mean?"
It was my turn to urge for a reply.
"Come on. You don't think it's a secret do you?"
"I should think just about everybody."
"When did it start?" I asked.
I thought I could probably tell her but it would be better from her own lips. Confession being good for the soul and it was a Sunday.
"It would be about two years ago. I was staying with them whilst I was seeing Steve."
"Well," she continued, "Steve and I had broken up. I think we did that quite often in those days. I wasn't very happy on the Sunday morning and David offered to take me up in his plane. Said he had to test the engine so he couldn't make church. I don't think Mary was too pleased. Anyway I went up in it with him. We were flying along towards the south coast when he suddenly asked me what was wrong."
She smiled for a second then went on.
"I told him about Steve and I breaking up and that I thought it would be for good this time. Then he said would that I mean I wouldn't be coming down to stay at weekends. I said I didn't know. He said he hoped I would continue to come down. Then he reached out his hand. I think it was to hold my hand but it landed on my thigh. I placed my hand on top of it to move it and he squeezed it. My thigh, not my hand. He looked at me with the way he has."
I knew that feeling.
"He moved his hand up my thigh. I couldn't help myself. His hand moved again. It just lay there, on top of it. Not moving."
I could feel a throbbing start between my own legs and could fully imagine what must have been going on between hers.
"Then his hand moved again. He was undoing the button on my jeans, unzipping me. I remember looking around and thinking somebody must be able to see us. But of course there wasn't anyone to watch."
I squeezed the tops of my thighs together to lessen the pressure I could feel building inside me. It didn't work.
"It was struggle for him to get his hand inside my panties. I remember him saying something about it being up to me. I had to undo my seat belt to push my jeans and panties down to my ankles so I could open my legs for him. He was right. It was up to me. It was my body."
She looked at me.
"Has Paul ever touched you while you have been up in a plane? It is the weirdest sensation."
Paul and I and planes? Yes. Yes. Yes. He'd made me come more than once sitting in the seats, let alone when we had gone into the toilets together.
"Yes. It is."
I drank some more wine and Shirley topped up our glasses.
"What happened next?" I asked.
I could imagine her sitting in the seat next to the pilot with his clothes around her ankles while she was fingered and her clit was rubbed. I had sat like that quite a few times before myself after Paul had passed his private pilots licence exams.
"Anyway David touched me. He was very good at it. I'd be nearly there and he would slow down then he would take me nearly there again. I hadn't noticed that he had turned the plane and we were heading back to the airfield."
"He landed before I came. Then he had me stop the car on the way back to his house and we pulled into a field. We let the seat back on his side and I joined him and we did it. Then we did it again when we arrived at his house before Mary got home from church. He insisted I stayed for lunch. He felt me under the table. Then when Mary went upstairs to use the toilet he stood up and put it inside my mouth. He didn't take long. He insisted I continue to come down at weekends. Told Mary he was trying to get Steve and I back together. I did see Steve from time to time. I don't think David liked that."
"That's about it. Some weekends both of them were having me. Steve can't be faithful and David wanted me all for himself. In some ways I'm glad it's over. What about you and Ron?"
She looked at me as she sipped her wine.
"You'll always regret it if you don't."
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