by Primula Bond
I glanced down and gasped out loud. Mr Grey had the most enormous cock I’d ever seen, lying quite still, stretching up his stomach as far as the hem of his sweater. Who would have thought that a thumping great love machine like this was hidden under that slightly shambolic exterior?
‘What the hell is that woman doing,’ I breathed, creeping over to him, ‘playing away from this?’
I swung my leg over him, pushing him down onto his back and hovered on all fours, gazing at his amazing member. A manic smile stretched across my face.
‘What’s so amusing?’ he asked, reaching up to pull me down on top of him.
‘Not amusing. Amazing. This,’ I gabbled, spreading my legs further apart as I lowered myself just close enough to brush my bush back and forth over his waiting cock. ‘Your wife hovered over his cock, just like this, in the park. She pulled it out of his trousers, and she got up on her knees, like this. There was a moment, like this, just before she took it in . . .’
‘Go on. Don’t stop,’ he gasped.
‘Well, she held herself over it like it was a sex toy, and the tip of it was just waiting at the entrance.’
Meanwhile my entrance felt as if it was trying to home in on a magnet. I reached down between my legs and took hold of what was lying there. It was vast. It seemed to go on forever. The smooth, taut surface was already trailed with moisture where I had brushed against it, and that sent stronger thrills of excitement through me. I took it in both hands, hitched myself back on his thighs for a moment to lift it and gawp at its incredible, swollen, stiff length. As I held it and looked at it, running my hands up and down it, it leapt up, the bulbous end winking already with a droplet of pre-come.
‘Then I guess she couldn’t help herself,’ I finished breathlessly. ‘She had to have it inside her. She couldn’t wait any longer.’
I raised myself up again and placed the rounded tip against my moist pussy. Instantly, the tip made contact with the burning nub of my clitoris and I allowed myself another loud groan. It sounded filthy in my ears.
‘Listen to this, Mr Grey,’ I hissed, easing his cock slowly inside. ‘Listen to that juicy wetness.’
My sex-lips closed greedily round the smooth length. I had to pause every so often to spread my thighs and to luxuriate in the huge, warm, animal mass filling me, pushing inside me, its rigid dimensions fitting inside me, feeling myself impaled on a great rod almost as if I could lift my legs away and balance myself, cunt on cock, even spin round on it.
He lay on the hard bench, hands still squeezing my breasts and pulling them so that he could suck and bite each one in turn while the other bounced and brushed against his face.
‘So easy,’ he murmured, stopping for a moment to watch my cunt swallowing him whole, tightening his grip as I slithered down to the base of his cock and we both waited for the new delicious movement to begin. ‘You’ve made this so easy for me.’
His cock continued to swell inside me and I had no choice but to move, to start easing myself up and down the long shaft before it penetrated right through me. Once I started I couldn’t stop because, as I raised myself off it, every inch of it rubbed against every screaming inch of me so that I could only go so far before slamming back down on him, groin on groin. When I did that, I could feel the end of his knob stretching me deep inside, testing me to the limits, showing us both what I was capable of taking.
‘You can fuck me now,’ I ordered.
His hips echoed the rhythm of mine. He drew himself back as I rose off him, then slammed up inside as I came back down. I could hear my voice rising in a crescendo of desire, whimpering with the powerful sensation of being impaled on this lovely pole, giving me more pleasure, more pleasure, rising to the peak, getting harder, getting wetter, tongues of fire streaking up inside me.
‘Watch me,’ I shouted out. ‘This is what she was doing.’
His eyes watched behind the glasses and I could see my breasts reflected there, bouncing frantically as I rode him. Suddenly, he plunged in as deep as he could go. His mouth parted but no sound came out. His eyes closed briefly, and then he flopped back against the bench, pumping his spunk into me so that I was thrown upwards with the force of it, and I was crying out each time it lifted me, my own cries and his thrusting finally giving way to a wild, shattering climax that had me arching right away and then collapsing onto him, my thighs spread on either side of him, my bare torso and red silk shirt smothering him.
‘I’m not sure I care any more what she was doing,’ he said, the silk shirt lifting with his breath. ‘It’s you I want to fuck, Miss Summers. Again and again.’
The wheel was still turning, carrying us slowly in our descent. I sat up, still panting, and Mr Grey raised himself on his elbows, blinking as if he had just woken up. I pulled the shirt across my bosom and casually fastened one button, in an effort to appear modest. We both glanced up at the pod coming down immediately above us, and both started. There was someone inside. A long navy coat, a trilby hat and a face shrouded in shadow.
‘Our turn to be watched,’ said Mr Grey, pulling on his jeans and reaching for his coat. ‘I can’t see who it is. Do you think that man has a camera?’
‘It’s Sir Simeon,’ I said, getting up slowly, standing for a moment, pussy and legs totally naked, letting Sir Simeon see my upturned face through the glass roof. ‘How did he know we were here?’
‘All seeing, I guess, with or without a camera.’ Mr Grey chuckled. The tense, angry man of earlier had totally vanished. He looked positively cocky. ‘Perhaps he likes to keep a special eye on his favourite member of staff?’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’ I shrugged coyly, but I did just wonder. But then again, no phone call to the club would go unlogged, I was sure of that. They might all be recorded. Or Miss Sugar told Sir Simeon what I was up to.
‘You can tell them you’ve added a new skill to your job description. And you performed it to perfection,’ Mr Grey said happily when we reached the ground. He shuffled the photographs like a pack of cards as he waited for me to come out of the pod. I came and stood in front of him and he gave me a white envelope. ‘I want to pay you.’
‘I couldn’t. It’s all part of the –’
‘You deserve every penny of this. Sod the club. This was your doing and yours alone. And after I’ve taught Mrs Grey a lesson or two, she’ll come crawling back. She won’t be screwing Mr Hall – don’t worry, I knew all about that – or your Merlin, again.’
‘Should I feel sorry for her?’ I asked.
‘She can take it. She likes punishment. And in a way, I should be rewarding her. Because if she hadn’t kept cheating, I wouldn’t have been driven to meeting up with you, and then we wouldn’t have had our time today. So all’s fair.’
‘I have to know one thing,’ I said, cocking my head. ‘Why did she cop off with her brother of all people? I mean, how pervy is that? And how mad is that, when she’s got a nice, not to mention hugely well-endowed, husband of her own?’
He pushed his glasses up his nose, once again the bashful lecturer.
‘Shocking people is like a drug to Avril,’ he explained, still shuffling the photographs. ‘I’ve always known it. I admit I get a high from being married to it, even though it’s painful. Her and Merlin? Par for the course. But her and Jez? That was different. Although he’s not her blood brother, they were both adopted, I still can’t get my head round it. It only came out into the open when he got engaged recently. Avril went ballistic with jealousy and spilled the whole story to anyone who’d listen. He’s always been like her puppy dog, you see. Anyway, the fiancée understandably banned Avril from their lives, and I thought it was over, but who was I kidding?’
‘It wasn’t over when they came to the club the other night,’ I told him. ‘Or Mikhail’s party.’
‘I guess she thought she could just brazen it out, and the more publicly the better. With Jez, with Merlin, with her ultimate goal, Sir Simeon. Who seems to have vanished, by the way.’
; The London Eye was indeed empty.
‘Anyway,’ Geoffrey Grey concluded, shaking my hand rather formally. ‘Suffice to say now that the worm has turned.’
‘You’re not a worm,’ I said.
‘Not any more. Thanks to you, Miss Summers.’
He gave a curious farewell bow. There was more than a pang of regret as he walked away. I liked him. I thought of that amazing cock, filling me to the brim. I wanted to do it again, in some other wacky place. I wanted to spread my wings a little further. I was sure he would think of somewhere. The British Library, for example. Or the Reptile House at Regent’s Park Zoo.
I wriggled with amusement inside my coat. Mr Grey and I weren’t related, after all. So what was stopping us? Now he’d got the taste for extra-curricular sex, Mr Grey didn’t have to be a one-off, did he? He was a club member. There was always his file. Like all the other members, his details were at my fingertips. Literally.
I walked along the Embankment for a while, my stomach rumbling with hunger now that the morning was underway. I watched the commuters scurrying to work, heads down, eyes fixed on the pavement, faces white and drawn.
I pitied them. As for me, I was beginning to forget the meaning of the word ‘work’. Club Crème didn’t feel like my office. It felt more like my playground. I’d done the big wheel. You could say I’d done some swinging; most definitely some sliding. That left the see-saw and the carousel.
13
I couldn’t wait to see what was in the suitcase they had given me for this trip.
‘I won’t lie to you,’ Miss Sugar sniffed that morning, opening and slamming drawers in her desk. ‘I am livid.’
‘Were you hoping he’d invite you to go?’ I asked, trying not to lick my lips as I saw her count out some more cash for me.
‘Of course I was. I’ve been here for much longer than you. And I’m way overdue a decent perk. You’ve just strolled in here and taken all the plum jobs. I’m sick and tired of this bloody office!’ She slumped back into her chair and glared at the paperwork.
‘Sugar . . . this isn’t like you!’ I exclaimed, genuinely shocked. I came round the desk and put my arm round her thin shoulders. She tensed up, but I kept it there, squeezed her hard against me until I thought her bones might break, then released her. Her hand came up and rubbed the shoulder which had been pressing against my breast. ‘I had no idea you felt like this. But what can I do about it? What can either of us do, if Sir Simeon has decreed it?’
‘Nothing,’ she said. She looked up, hooking one strand of hair behind her ear. A couple of hairgrips were about to drop out. ‘It’s not your fault. Just go, will you, and enjoy yourself. It’s New Year’s Eve, after all.’
‘It’s still work, Sugar, remember. It will simply be an extension of working here at the club. And I’m just obeying orders. I’m not supposed to enjoy it,’ I said, but my words lacked conviction.
She snorted. ‘It’s a vocation for you, Summers. All this – entertaining. You’ve taken to it like a duck to water. I’ve never heard such effusive praise from a club member as we got from Geoffrey Grey about you. Not to mention all the other rave reviews since then. Quite sickening, in fact,’ she said.
‘I don’t know what you mean, I’m sure,’ I responded. I raised my eyebrows and picked up the suitcase. ‘I was doing the poor guy a favour, that’s all.’
Was that little dent in her cheek the merest hint of a smile? ‘Yes, but off the premises, Summers. It’s not part of the deal. We are only supposed to commune with our members here, at the Club Crème,’ she said.
‘Oh, sod that,’ I scoffed. ‘I didn’t come back to the big bad city just to be cooped up here all the time! Anyway, we’re all leaving the premises to go a-communing at Symes Hall, tonight, aren’t we? From one commune to another, in fact.’
‘Symes Hall counts as club premises, I suppose, although hiring it out for conferences, even if it’s for a club member, is something totally new to me.’
‘It’s not fair, leaving you here while we all go off and have fun. But someone has to hold the fort,’ I said. I leaned across her and flipped the pages of her ledger. ‘I see that there’s almost a full house here tonight. That’ll be clients, sorry, members, escaping the horrors of Christmas and New Year at home, I daresay. So while the cats are away, Miss Sugar, the mouse can play!’
The dent in Miss Sugar’s cheek deepened.
‘Not a party, Summers. It’s work. Oh, and just before you go. Car keys, please.’
‘What?’ I asked, getting ready to sulk.
‘The MG. Miss Breeze needs it. It is her car, you know.’
‘No. I didn’t know. I thought it was Sir Simeon’s. I thought he’d lent it to me specially –’
‘Sir Simeon drives a vintage Rolls. Surely you didn’t think he’d potter about in an MG?’
Sugar handed me a railway ticket. I decided not to let the removal of my little car get me down.
‘Let’s you and me have some fun when I get back to London, Sugar,’ I suggested. ‘You could do with it.’
It was already evening when the taxi dropped me off at the Hall. I couldn’t see much of the countryside flashing past the train as the sky grew dark. I looked out at the passing silhouettes of trees and houses, remembering what it felt like to travel on foreign soil. It wouldn’t be long now before I had enough money to go round the world, twice over if I wanted to.
But the job at Club Crème had long ago ceased to be solely about the money. A big part of me was reluctant to stop what I was doing. After all, I had discovered a closed world of intrigue and secrecy behind the veneer of respectability and, what was even better, I was virtually left to my own devices to set the scenes as I chose and conduct any liaisons as I wanted. I hadn’t seen Mimi for nearly a month now, and Sir Simeon had stopped showing up to watch over me.
In the taxi I lifted my feet to examine the pointed toes of yet another beautiful pair of boots, this time knee-length ones in soft mulberry leather which matched my low-necked, long-sleeved mulberry T-shirt. I crossed my legs, relishing the swish of silk stocking, so different from my erstwhile uniform of sweatpants and jeans. I was just starting to doze, for some reason thinking about Chrissie and how I still hadn’t returned the borrowed pinstriped suit, when the car started to throw up pellets of gravel and crunched to a halt.
Symes Hall looked beautiful at night, its yellow façade illuminated by arc lights. In the windows, oil lamps burned, as if we’d stepped back in time. I started to feel nervous, something I hadn’t felt for weeks. The wind whistled and flapped my coat against me as the taxi driver dumped my case on the drive and drove away.
‘Step this way, Miss Summers,’ a voice said. The butler, who I’d seen briefly at the meet handing round the drinks, had materialised by my side and he led me into the house. I expected my inexplicable nerves to dissipate and to feel rather smug as I entered. After all, I’d been here before, remember, with the son of the house. But it looked totally different in the dark and there was no one I knew, let alone Merlin, to be seen. The place was shadowy, lit only by flames burning in the same braziers or holders as we had on the stairs at the club. My high heels clicked anxiously along the upstairs corridor.
Up ahead were the double doors of Sir Simeon’s room, but the butler left me alone in another huge chamber with very little furniture except a vast cherry-wood bed all low slung and curved like a boat and piled high with snowy white pillows, a matching, brooding wardrobe with mirrored doors, which virtually covered one wall, and a couple of hard-backed tapestry chairs, the sort that you could only sit up in and beg.
I crossed to the French windows and stepped out onto the balcony. All I could see was the scudding clouds and a full white moon. There was a fire jumping in the grate, just as it had in Sir Simeon’s bedroom. If I turned quickly enough I might catch Merlin creeping up behind me, ready to lift me bodily and sling me onto the bed, peel away my new, smart persona until all that was left to show him was my trembling white skin rising in
goosebumps . . . Except this time he wouldn’t know me. I wasn’t a boyish stable hand any more with messy hair scrunched up in a net and mud in her fingernails. I considered myself a woman of the world now, an expert seducer of men, dressed in designer clothes and with a wallet full of hard-earned cash.
An owl hooted from somewhere close by and I backed hurriedly into the room, and straight into a pair of soft, waiting arms.
‘Everything all right, Summers?’ Mimi said and caught me close against her for a moment as if measuring me. Then she pushed me away. The candles and lamps dotted around the walls threw virtually no light at all and we had to peer to see each other. ‘You seem jumpy. After all the training, all the free rein we’ve given you in the last few weeks, I expected you to have acquired a little more poise by now.’
‘Training?’ I retorted, finding my voice. ‘What training? I’ve been left entirely to my own devices.’
‘I know that’s how it seems, but believe me, Summers, you haven’t made one move without our knowledge.’
I fiddled with one of my earrings. ‘Well, if it’s poise you’re worried about, I’ve acquired that in spades. I’m a very quick learner.’
I lifted my chin and walked deliberately slowly across to the bed. I wanted her to see that I could move like a catwalk model if I chose. Miss Sugar had spent enough time drilling me after all, marching me up and down in the office to get rid of my student slouch. Mimi watched me silently, and I sat down, flung my coat off and calmly crossed my stockinged legs. She looked me up and down, unable to hide her approval. She saw the clinging top, the elegant boots and the tailored skirt in honey tweed, shot through with a burgundy thread.
‘Quite the beautiful swan now, aren’t you, Suki?’ she breathed, coming towards me. ‘My instincts about a person are always right.’
She was dressed in a strapless ball-gown which flared out like a flamenco dress at the knees. It was made of a shot-silk fabric, which threw out varying shades of gold and red. Diamonds glittered at her throat, in her ears, on her fingers and, in this dim light, her lips looked blood red. Her hair was tied loosely at the nape of her neck. She came and sat beside me on the bed. The ancient springs dipped and squeaked alarmingly under our joint weight, making us both break into laughter. The ice was broken.