RICHARDJames has taken over where I left off with Charlotte, crouched over her on all fours, pumping her hard in her bound/pussy raised position. It looks awkward but neither seems bothered by that, his expression intent, hers ecstatic, as their flesh collides.Michael tops up his wine from the bottle sitting on ice, then, as I pump her from behind, sits beside Elizabeth, glass once more in hand.The glass drips moisture........ He's not going to...?But no, the glass stays well away from my Elizabeth's swinging breasts. But his eyes rise to meet mine as he dips fingers into the chilled wine, holding them there for a few seconds. Then his eyes drop again to his target.As I thrust steadily, fingers wet, and almost icy, snake between my Elizabeth's legs, and with a movement I cannot see but only imagine, gently play with her bud.She comes almost on the spot, spasming around my cock....Fuck!.... to kick off my own overdue climax. With a hoarse cry, I spurt, splashi
JAMESWe wave Richard and Beth off down the drive. Both still look half-asleep, but both also are wearing smiles.I think we can count that as a success...."I'm going for a soak in the bath," says Charlotte.Michael twinkles. "Want me to come and scrub your back?"Hasn't he ever had enough...?She grins and punches him on the shoulder. "Give me ten minutes first."I stretch and yawn.An easy day today methinks....Coffee....In the kitchen, pondering the evening's events, I stare out of the window to the bubble and pop from the stove-top and the rising fragrance of Arabica.There's a click behind me: Michael carefully closing the door behind him. He nods back behind himself. "She's headed for her bath," he says quietly."I daresay we'll see her again in a couple of hours and lightly poached."He huffs. "What is it with women and hot water?" Then he turns serious. "You okay now?""Yes, I'm good. It went well wouldn't you say?""I would indeed." He parks a
KLEMPNERThe cell is depressing. Not just the naked walls, the furniture bolted to the cement floor, the steel sink and toilet, but everything........ The constant daytime echo of footsteps on metal walkways, the murmur of my companions........ colleagues...?.... carrying through from the rest of the floor, Jackson's constant fucking snoring at night....Surely I can get my cellmate changed?Still, he'll be gone in a month........ And who do I get then?.... And the smell.... Disinfectant, sour sweat, stale tobacco, cabbage....My door eases open and the guard stands, not exactly to attention, but respectfully. For appearance's sake, I stand. "Mr Sutcliffe?""Mr Klempner, you have visitors."About fucking time...."Is it them?""Yes, sir. All three of them."Well, there's a first....So, the men kept their word........ Not that they gave their word...."Anything I should know?""Not sure, sir, if it's relevant, but they opened some kind of hotel
KLEMPNERAlexanders hesitates, then, "You say she knew about Blessingmoors. Had she seen inside?""Yes. I wouldn't have hurt her. I just wanted her back.""Did she know about the cellars?" He leans forwards. "I've been in those cellars," he hisses. Jennifer jerks alert again, staring at him, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "They're enough to scare the shit out of anyone, let alone a young woman, alone in the world."I think back.Was she down in the cellars?I don't know...."What would you have done?" says Jennifer, "If she'd come looking?""I don't know. Taken her somewhere I suppose. Where we could be together."She cocks her head. "You mean, invited her to go with you? Or taken her?"When I don't reply, she continues, "You see, I think your idea of love is ownership. And my mother didn't want to be owned."Is that a fact?"I know what kind of relationship you have with him." I nod at Alexanders. His chin tilts up, eyes narrowing. "What's the differe
RICHARDMichael appears at the door of the conference room, wandering into my office, musing over some document he holds. "Who was Edward Haswell?"James and I exchange startled glances. "Edward Haswell?" I say. "He was my father. Why would you ask?""Because according to this...." He holds up the document.... ".... forty years or so back, Beth's Uncle Albert was in business with one Edward Haswell." I stand without the intervention of my brain, all but snatching the yellowed paper from his hand. "Let me see that." A smile plays around his mouth. "It's news to you I take it?""Good God, yes. I'd no idea there was any link between Elizabeth's family and mine." I flip through the pages, speed-reading as I go. Francis and James are also both standing. Francis, in deference perhaps to her position as my PA, is trying not to seem too intrigued. James, with no such qualms, is simply leaning in, trying to look over my shoulder."It is the same Edward Haswell, I suppose?" he as
"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr Haswell.""No problem, Mr Kimberley. I'm always happy to talk with someone who's had a new idea. Please...." The tall man gestures to a chair. "Do sit down. And it's Edward. May I call you Albert? Or is it Al?""It's Al. And yes, of course." He takes the seat offered, placing a file and a document tube on the desk.Edward clears his throat. "Would you mind if I bring in someone else to the meeting?"Al hesitates, looking nervous. "Er.... Who...?""No-one to worry about. Just my son. He's following me into the business and it will be good training for him to see how these things are done.""Of course. I'd like to meet him."Edward shouts through the door again. "Linda, can you ask Richie to join us."A minute or so later a boy appears at the door; maybe fifteen or sixteen, tall like his father, although with the usual teenage lankiness. He is dark-haired, is going to be handsome and has eyes unusually sharp in so young a face."Dad
JAMESRichard sits, the Heads of Terms document open on the table in front of him. Beth arrives and sits next to Charlotte, the two of them chattering excitedly."Yes, I remember him now," says Richard. "My father introduced me when they were setting up the deal. It was for the development of what later became the Imperial Hotel and the area all around there.""The Imperial?" Michael raises brows. "Where James had his apartment originally? And, isn't that where you first met Beth?""That's right." Elizabeth and I exchange grins at the memory of that first meeting and she grins wickedly. My cock stirs....Christ.... Not now...."Bit of a coincidence that, isn't it?"Elizabeth chimes in. "No, actually, it isn't a coincidence at all. I was working at the Imperial because Uncle Albert suggested I go there for a job. He almost insisted actually."Everyone's attention turns to her. "Go on," says Michael. "What did he say?""And when was this?" I add.Beth frowns. "It's so
MICHAELCharlotte is white and starting to tremble. Eyes streaming, shaking violently, she drops her face into her hands.Christ........ She's going to collapse....James, his expression alarmed, is already rising, but I'm there before him, catching her before she falls.Supporting her as I guide her back down, I pull her back to cradle her on my lap. She's not usually a 'sitting on the knee' kind of girl, but by any measure, this is a special occasion."Shhh...." I kiss her hair, murmuring something to her. She's sobbing and crying into my chest.... "It's alright. It's alright."Richard, his face stricken, stands. "Charlotte, I....""Just emotional," I say. "Don't worry. She'll be fine in a minute."Richard nods, then walks to a cupboard, taking out a bottle of brandy. He splashes a measure into a glass passing it to me, then holds up the bottle, looking around the room."Good idea," says James. "One of those all round I think.""But, this can't be right," prote
A sound... Charlotte clearing her throat. "Ummm...""Yes, Charlotte." Richard swings around. "I believe that makes it your turn. James... Together or separately?""You're the guest, Richard. You choose.""In that case, I think together. Heads or tails?""Oh, tails I think, if that suits you?""Absolutely."As I withdraw from Beth, tucking away my subsiding erection, I help her upright.Richard and James both stand, side by side, towering over Charlotte. I back away from the action, giving them space, but take Beth with me, pulling her down onto my lap as I sit, nuzzling into her neck. "Thank you. You have no idea how much..."She twists back, kisses me on the mouth. "I think I did know."James and Richard are both stripping off jackets, ties and shirts, kicking off shoes. "I think Charlotte's about to get it big time," she murmurs."I'd say so, yes."James drops to his knees, settles between her thighs.Richard unzips, releases himself, then stroking his erectio
MICHAELheading south, I tug at the ties of the thong, pulling away about a square inch of satin as the flimsy thing falls away.Richard sucks in air. "So, James, where would you like me to start?""I'm sure you don't need instructions from me..." James drops eyes to Beth's smooth pubis. "... An old hand like you." His gaze shifts to Charlotte... "But I think we'll adjust the furniture a little." Rising, he takes a stand-mirror from the corner of the bedroom, moves it to the side of the bed, adjusts the angle, then stands back to gauge the results. He adjusts it a little, measures it by eye again and then nods. Charlotte has an excellent view of her own sex."Would you like her opened a little further, Richard? I imagine you'll want to reach everything easily.""Excellent idea, James. The knees wider I think, and we'll lift her hips."It's a game they play, the pair of them, torturing her with anticipation, but Charlotte's eyes tell a tale. The two Doms work as a team, J
MICHAELI sit, staring at nothing, thinking about...... Nothing...Maybe I should get something to eat?My gut's griping. I've not eaten all day. Sally brought me one of her usual offerings for lunch; a plate-sized bacon and egg sandwich and a can of beer, but the smell turned my stomach.Scruffy ate well though along with Kirstie's tribe, running wild around the gardens in hairy, waggy, excitable enthusiasm.The pint-sized rag-tag lies by my feet. Occasionally he looks up at me, whining. I scratch his ear and he settles again.There's no sign of James and Charlotte other than James' tablet on his armchair and a book, marker inserted, on Charlotte's favourite spot on the settee. With no real interest, I look at the cover. 'A Song of Ice and Fire - A Dance with Dragons.'The scent of something is drifting in, James' cooking I assume. A part of me says it smells rich and savoury, winey and herby, but my gut recoils.Just a coffee maybe...I head for the kitchen, but
MICHAELI don't much feel like breakfast, but for the sake of form, I join Mitch, James and Charlotte in the kitchen, downing a coffee, then pouring another.James is on his usual 'toast and coffee only' breakfast. Mitch works her way through yoghurt and muesli, eating tidily and sipping at a cup of peppermint tea.Charlotte's standing on tiptoe, rummaging at the top shelf of the store cupboard. James stands, walks across. "What are you looking for?""Pickled onions.""You don't like pickled onions.""I felt like one sliced up on my sandwich."I've already seen the other items laid out on the worktop for Charlotte's 'sandwich', along with the expression flitting across James' face as he saw them too.Hmmm...But he snakes up a long arm to the top shelf and takes down a jar.In some fascination we sit, watching Charlotte assemble a peanut butter, avocado and pickled onion sandwich, on crusty bread cut thick enough to use as a draught excluder. In a final flourish, sh
JAMESIt's a nice area. A pretty area. And it's a day for seeing it at its best.Yachts and pleasure boats float in bobbing ranks on sparkling water. Tourists walk by with ice creams, tossing coins to cross-legged artists sitting by pavement chalkings. Shops sell souvenirs, art and holiday wear.The apartment block is clean and well-maintained. The hallway as we approach the door smells of new carpet and fresh paint.Mitch stands outside the door, seeming to gather herself together, then taking a breath, she inserts the key, turns it, opens the door and we step inside.It's... lovely...Sunlight dances over walls painted in soft neutral colours. They complement the furnishings, made from some pale golden timber, perhaps beech."Can't fault his taste," comments Michael.Paintings dot the walls, abstract mainly, except for a single striking piece taking the centre of one wall; an image of ice and broken water in astonishing rainbow hues."Amazing painting," I say, looki
RICHARDJames steps out of the elevator looking...What?Harassed?Worried?"James?"He looks to me then jerks his head towards his office. I follow him in. Silently, he offers me a small, padded envelope, still sealed. "This was waiting for me down in the lobby. Special delivery.""A packet?""Look at the addressee."I look, extract spectacles from my top pocket and look again.And the hair rises on the back of my neck.Michelle Kimberley, c/o James Alexanders."Klempner?""Who else could it be? Conners wouldn't know where to find her. Michelle's brothers would probably send it to her direct. So, who else?""James, before anyone opens that envelope, could it be a letter-bomb?"He blows out air, rubs his forehead. "I wouldn't have thought that was Klempner's style... If he wanted her, he come after her himself..." He paces the room. "And why would he send it through me?""You parted... amicably... from Klempner? After the shooting?"He huffs. "I'm not
MICHAELJames interrupts my gardening. "You seen Charlotte?""She said she was going for a walk." I nod along the road. "She went that-a-way." I straighten up, pressing hands into my lower spine. "Actually, now I think about it, her tone was a bit odd.""You look as if you've done enough for a while. Want to take a break and stretch your legs?""Good idea. I'll just tell Chad we're going out."I find him inside, paint bucket in hand, slapping emulsion on a bedroom wall. "James and I are just going for a walk. I don't think we'll be long."He cocks an eye at me, his expression assessing. "You might like to know that Mr Kalkowski is buried nearby, in the churchyard.""He is? I thought...""He had no traceable family, so he stayed here. Some of the holier-than-thou churchy types tried to kick up a fuss about it, but Mrs Collier kicked up a bigger fuss and they found a space for him.""Gotcha."He moves to the window and points a long finger along the road; the same dir
MICHAELThe lawns might have been mown, but the shrubs and borders are heading for the sky. A quick exploration of a small back shed produces saw and secateurs, so I set to, getting the garden back under control."Hello."I turn to see a woman, standing by the garden gate. Wearing jeans and a shirt, her hair tied tightly back in a ponytail, she has a prim, pleasant face. "Hello, I'm Eleanor Collier. I've been keeping an eye on the house. I saw something was happening...?" I stand, wiping muck and sap off my hands and onto my pants, then stride forward to offer my hand. "Michael Summerford." My brain connects the dots. "Collier, was it? Charlo... Jennifer's foster mother?"Her face lights up. "That's right. You know Jenny? She's here?""I'm her husband. And yes, she's here." I yell towards the upstairs window. "Charlotte! Friend of yours here." I gesture to the gate. "You'd better come in."From above, a movement at the window, then a clatter down the stairs and Charlotte
JAMESMichael...He's depressed...What can I do?Change of scene maybe?*****"Charlotte, I was thinking, we're about due for your road-trip."She pauses, half a sausage impaled on a fork midway to her mouth. "Road-trip, Master? What road-trip?""Have you forgotten that you were bequeathed a house? And everything in it. Perhaps it is time to make good your claim?"The half-a-sausage drops back to her plate. "Go back to the farm you mean? The last time I was there, they... they weren't very welcoming."Michael is listening, chewing on toast and marmalade, suddenly looking more animated than he has for days.Thank God..."Things have changed since then, haven't they," he says. "You've spoken with your friend Tom. He knows the truth of what happened. And of course, there's Chad."Still she stares at the sausage and the fried egg congealing by it. "I'm not sure..."I pour myself more coffee. "Even if all you decide to do is sell the house, you'll need to visit