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Remember Remember

Page 8

by Alan Wade


  As he set off to walk to the bathroom, she turned, smiled and said, “thank you for the little exhibition, but why do your hands instinctively go down to it?”

  “Oh I’m sorry love, it’s often like this when I wake up and it’s not so little.”

  “And here I was thinking it might be in some way due to my presence, you sure know how to let a girl down,” she laughed, “come and sit here and rub some of this aftersun down my back.”

  “I think I need the bathroom first.”

  “Do that later, it’ll only take a minute.”

  He squeezed the aftersun onto his hands, sat at her side and proceeded to rub it down her back concentrating on her shoulders then lower and lower past her waist and onto her buttocks. More cream was applied and both hands worked her buttocks and thighs, pulling them slightly apart. He could see pubic hair protruding from her thong and the change in colour of her skin at the very top of her thighs.

  She rolled over saying, “I think that’s enough now, I thought you had a man to see.”

  He stood up and gasped, “Yeah, I suppose so.”

  But before he could move to the bathroom, her hand moved up and out and took hold of the base of his penis as her other hand reached for the aftersun. Then with both hands she applied the cream to first the base then the rest of his penis.

  “Oh that’s nice, that’s good,” he moaned.

  Her hands now caressed the head of his shaft as she said, “I really would like to get to know you a little better.”

  “There’s not much more to get to know is there,” he sighed as her hands expertly caressed him.

  But he knew he had a more pressing need and whispered to her, “Thanks love, but no more just now, I really have to go.”

  He pulled away, walked into the bathroom, closed the door tried to pee and hissed, “Bloody meetings, bloody control, why the hell do I have to go?”

  She laid back and at first smiled but then began to worry that her actions might seem a little brash on the first full day and hoped she had not set the scene for the rest of the holiday.

  22nd July, 17.50, Pop In Bar.

  Alan arrived at the Pop In Bar dressed as described in the note he had pinned to the notice board. He took a seat at a table away from the bar and some distance from other tables, which offered him views in all directions. He ordered a Becks and the waiter returned with an iced glass complete with the Becks lager.

  “Enjoy the moment,” he thought.

  At six o’clock precisely a man approached the table and introduced himself as Onar. He took a seat opposite Alan and ordered a Raki with ice from the attentive waiter. He then wrote ARMI on a piece of paper and Alan responded with TAGE, They were together in this now. The Raki arrived and Onar took a sip, he was a smallish man with long black hair, not fit thought Alan, probably over weight and at 5’6” nondescript.

  “Tell me about your past Onar,” he enquired.

  The lecture confirmed his degree in pharmacy, his lack of family, his love of money and his loathing for the West. He already knew the general plan but now he was informed in more detail. He would be despatched to Syria and cross the border near Iskenderun, there he would meet Shan the banker who would return with him via Gazientep, Adan, Antalya then into Olu Deniz.

  Alan informed him that Shan would bring with him a list of local companies for sale, telling him, “the price wasn’t important, it’s what they do and being in possession of a UK export licence which is more important. He also informed him the cash would come via Switzerland and be from a reputable bank. Onar was then informed he would be made Factory Manager in charge of all production and that new casing designs would be sent to him in completed form from York in England.

  Alan continued “As you know your job is to fill these casings with our new product, which is why your pharmacy degree is critically important. The finished filler has to be virtually undetectable and has to work in all conditions, such as wind, rain, cold, darkness, warmth and light.” He looked around to ensure they were not being overheard and continued, “this will be our prime product and it will be called LOLTS.”

  “We have access to WMD from a boat and you know the propulsion for the products so your primary task is to make the mix. We need production by September at the latest and to begin UK imports in October. You will need to open a Swiss bank account for yourself and the company; your income will be set at 30,000 Euros a month with a completion bonus of 100,000, plus a further 200,000 if we succeed. Good luck, please let me know when you have succeeded with the product. It is important we do not meet often but we will need to meet again on the 25th with our other friends,” concluded Alan as he wished Onar a safe journey and confirmed the time of the next meeting to be at 18.00 on the 25th.

  Onar smiled and left the Pop In cocktail bar. Alan’s eyes observed him as he walked towards the sea. It’s a good 200 yards and nobody seemed to follow him. He looked up the street away from the sea, back down to the sea, then across the road past Captain Hooks towards Sun City, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He ordered another beer and as he did so he enquired, “have you seen any Americans here recently?”

  “They’re rare here, no Americano’s,” he replied.

  Beer and money exchanged hands, and Alan made another request, “Where is the best place to change traveller’s cheques?”

  The waiter responded, “Over the road at the jeweller’s they are good.”

  He checked the exchange rate and observed it was 2,200,000 lira to the pound. “What a bloody silly amount,” he thought, “why don’t they just drop off 5 noughts and call it 2.2 to the pound, they’d save a fortune on the size of till rolls and price tags.”

  The jeweller’s was a beautiful shop, with air conditioning, marble floors, good seating and fine displays. A man enquired what he wanted, listened and then offered 2,200,000 lira for a pound. One hundred pounds was exchanged and promises were made to return with a friend to purchase some of the best jewellery in Turkey.

  Before leaving he produced a 10 dollar bill and enquired of the exchange rate as none was listed. He was informed of the rate but declined saying he would keep it; he then asked how often dollar notes or dollar traveller’s cheques were exchanged and was pleased with the reply, being told they were changed very rarely and none recently; it seemed the Yanks were still a little afraid of Turkey. He smiled and left the shop feeling good, but wondered if the Yanks were still that stupid to come to Turkey loaded with dollars.

  He walked up the street away from the sea then turned right where he had an uninterrupted view which confirmed that no one was following him. He turned left then right and thought to himself, “Why bother, if they know they know, but what do they know. A more interesting time may be had on the 25th when I meet the others,” he thought, “bankers with money have many friends and followers, as do ships and their crew when they enter or leave port, we’ll see.”

  As he walked back to Sun City he thought about the ship, he was aware that Captain Amdarni may be a risk. However he had no choice because a runner had already informed the Captain to be ready to join the group on the 25th and his ship now lay 20 miles off the coast in the Stredozemni More. It is that part of the Mediterranean which lies between Rhodes and Cyprus. Here information could be easily passed between Turkey, Syria and Iraq by word of mouth and although this took time it was the safest way. The region where the Tigris River crossed the borders between Iraq, Syria and Turkey was still extremely wild and seen as dangerous to the West therefore much electronic attention was given to this area, whereas the coast line of Turkey with the Mediterranean was seen as a holiday area, not requiring too much surveillance. Even so, there would be no telephone or electronic traffic, Captain Amdarni would wait here silently until called.

  As he entered Sun City his thoughts returned to Jacky, “This afternoon was bloody marvellous, perhaps we’ll go further tonight. I haven�
�t screwed for months, I’ve not made love for years. So don’t drink too much because if you do you’ll be good for nothing,” he argued to himself.

  July 22nd, 19.00, Sun City.

  Jacky showered, wrapped a towel around her hair and put on a short cotton dressing gown. Her nails needed attention, all twenty and she inserted a blue polystyrene separator bottom up before applying red varnish to her toes and then her hands. She looked at her face and thought, “God the years tell, use make up but not too much.” “What should I wear, I don’t want to look like a tart, I don’t want to seem too available but I don’t want to look like a frump either. Why the hell don’t they teach you how to dress at school,” she complained, “perhaps they do at some, though not at Hazel Grove Comprehensive.”

  She chose a white trouser suit which was not see-through and showed little cleavage. Gold shoes complimented the outfit and she set her hair high to expose good cheek bones, thin shoulders and a slim neck. She chose gold earrings and a matching necklace which were her only jewellery, not expensive but good.

  She smiled at herself in the mirror and thought, “He may be at dinner, he may come back here, but he may not. Oh what the hell, why wait I’ll go down for dinner by myself, it’s not as if it’s a men only pub I’m entering.”

  She shook her head and groaned at her earlier actions, “why the hell did I start masturbating him, what will he think, I grab the guy’s cock the second day we’re here, not only grab it but play with him. What the hell was I doing, he’ll think I’m a tart; maybe I am,” she moaned then confused she asked herself, “do you mention it or just carry on as if nothing happened?” She shook her head again then decided to go down for dinner, she took a cursory glimpse in the mirror and decided she looked good. “Just try to leave his cock alone, you’ve never even thought about him before so why the hell did you grab it, what will he think, oh fuck it!” she hissed as she left the room.

  22nd July, 20.30, The Restaurant, Sun City Complex.

  “The starters look good,” Jacky turned with a start when she heard the voice, then smiled. Alan was standing next to her and quite close.

  “Yes they do look good, there’s an enormous assortment of salads here and olives. Just look at those tomatoes,” she gushed then changed the subject, “what are you going to have?”

  “I’d like some fish but the Turks seem to do little in the way of fish for starters,” he replied then pointing to a salad bar said, “will you get me a mixed salad and some cold chicken and I’ll get us some bread and wine. Would you like White or Red?”

  “White please.”

  “Where are you sitting,” he enquired.

  “Over there on the pool terrace, the second table in, next to that bloke smoking. I wish they wouldn’t do that at the tables, still at least we’re outside.”

  He sat opposite and smiled at her, she looked good, a white trouser suit, buttoned at the front showing just a hint of cleavage. She was wearing enough gold to look good but not too over the top. Painted nails and open gold sandals completed her outfit, she looked slim and was tanning quite well.

  “How do some women do that, they seem to go brown overnight, perhaps it’s tanning cream,” he thought, “still, she looks the part.”

  She broke the silence, “Look, what happened upstairs earlier, I don’t know what you think, but I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not and I’m pleased you mentioned it, because I thought it might have been a dream.”

  “Maybe it was a dream.”

  “No you definitely made a grab for my manhood and you know it could get you into all sorts of trouble and maybe me too. What’s a nice country boy like me to do being seduced by a townie like you, what would your mother say?”

  “She’d probably have told me to give it a quick slap with a towel and turn over, but you don’t know if that’s safe anymore these days.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  “What, my mother?”

  “Not your mother, the position.”

  She changed the subject, “Let’s just see how things go eh.”

  History had taught him that alcohol played an important role in his life in general and particularly in his sex life. Therefore his objective had to be careful consumption while encouraging others to consume sufficient to loosen inhibitions.

  They sat outside the pool bar drinking Raki, the Turkish national drink introduced to them by Tungay the barman.

  “It’s just like Pernod,” she coughed as she deftly picked the ice cubes from the drink, “mustn’t drink the ice cubes, mustn’t drink the local water, full of something or other,” she said, “I wonder if Turks and others are warned not to drink the water when they come to England,” she giggled as she consumed more Raki.

  “It’s quite nice when you get used to it but it needs water,” she said gesturing to him as he rose to go to the bar, “please make sure the water you bring back is from the cool machine, and no ice please.”

  He went back to the bar for more Raki and Tuborg lager. He finished his lager then turned to her and whispered, “it’s ten past eleven love, what do you want to do?”

  “I’m easy, she replied then giggled, “no I didn’t mean that, oh what the hell, let’s go back to the room.” They held hands as they walked the terracotta tiled path back to their room and her head dropped onto his shoulder.

  “Thank you Raki,” he thought as he opened the bedroom door.

  “Will you rub some aftersun on my back please,” she said as she stripped off her white trouser suit and lay on the bed face down wearing a bra and French knickers. He squeezed the aftersun onto her shoulders and began to massage the cream into her skin working down to her bra. He undid it and pulled it apart without requesting permission. He worked down the small of her back and into the top of her knickers, applying more cream to her thighs and as the cream was massaged in, her thighs opened slightly allowing him to massage high into her inner thigh, then back down her legs.

  “Racehorse legs and beautiful slim ankles,” he sighed to himself. “Turn over,” he grunted.

  More cream was applied, his hands slowly massaging her legs up and down and into her French knickers, he was now openly massaging the very top of her inner thighs. She sighed, breathed deep and shifted slightly arching her bottom off the bed. Her knickers came off easily being kicked onto the floor at the foot of the bed.

  He now shifted position, placing his head between her thighs, with both hands now exploring her labia, his head dipped and his tongue began to lap over her clitoris as her legs opened wider and she began to moan.

  His hands now left her labia and ran up her body under her bra which was now thrown onto the floor. He thought, “good firm breasts with large erect nipples,” as his tongue worked over her clitoris and into her vagina making her moan again as she tried to push her thighs into his face.

  His hands moved down her body and under her thighs to her buttocks, he caressed them parting them with his right hand and finding the opening to her vagina moist and warm, his thumb was gently inserted while his first finger explored her anus. Now she was openly moaning and writhing about as his tongue worked faster on her clitoris lapping at it while his right thumb explored her vagina and his left hand played with her right breast, squeezing and caressing its nipple.

  “Oh my God this is good, Oh my God this is good, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

  Her backside now raised off the bed, her thighs wide open, her hands clasped the back of his head as she moaned and whimpered faster and faster to orgasm.

  “I’ve come love, I’ve come,” she whispered. But he ignored her, still lapping at her clitoris and moving his fingers in her anus and vagina, suddenly her relaxation of orgasm had been replaced by a more frantic need to grasp his head and push it into her. The second orgasm came soon and now her exhaustion took over.

  “Alan, Alan, I need a rest, please stop,
” she gasped. He kicked off his sandals and took off his trousers and shorts, then lay on the bed next to her, took hold of her left hand and placed it on his erect penis.

  “It’s a very long time since I’ve made so much love without having to feel one of these,” she sighed.

  “So you’ve done this before then?”

  “Not as much as you perhaps, considering the work you’ve done on me tonight.”

  “I’d love you to suck me,” he whispered, “will you?”

  She smiled, wriggled down the bed and pulled his foreskin tight back, opened her mouth and placed her lips below the head of his penis.

  “Oh God, that’s good,” he gasped as he watched her pull up from his penis, straddle his legs, take hold of the base of his cock and slide down on it from above.

  “Oh yes, yes,” he sighed as his hand began to caress the hair above her vagina and explore her clitoris again.

  “Isn’t it beautiful the way a woman’s breasts bounce as she rises up and down on you,” he thought, “what a gorgeous sight and gorgeous feeling.”

  “No smoking, no talking, no comparing, no drinks; just sleep eh,” he whispered.

  “Yeah, let’s sleep,” she replied as she lay back on her bed.

  He climbed back into his bed, covered himself with the single sheet, smiled at her and whispered, “Thanks Jacky.” She smiled back and responded, “Thank you too Alan. Good night.”

  July 24th, 07.00, Syrian border with Turkey.

  The Peugeot 307 carried 3 men through the border at Habur down to the town of Urfa. There lay ahead a difficult journey of 16 hours. The car contained Shan, Onar the chemist and a runner named Tikrit Abdul who was also the driver. Customs and border checks had been satisfied with the story of 3 men going to Olu Deniz to purchase a business and to relax at the town’s resort and they would arrive at the Karbel Hotel hopefully by midnight.

  July 25th, 18.00, Pop Inn Cocktail Bar, Olu Deniz.

 

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