“Funny sort of love!”
He ignored the jibe. “All I have is an apology. I know it doesn’t seem much after all the things I said and did, but it is all I’ve got.” He stopped and waited, hoping for some sign of encouragement from his visitor, “No it doesn’t seem much!” Phyllipa’s voice rose slightly. “But if you must fight me Steven, you must fight fairly.” She flicked a wayward strand of hair back into line. “There was absolutely no excuse for the sort if personal remarks that you came out with. No pun intended, but you hit me below the belt and I am still screaming – foul!”
He groaned. “I know what I said. If I could take the words back then I would but I can’t.”
Smoothing imaginary creases from her clothing, she got to her feet. “No you can’t do that, but what I fail to understand is how a total “Commitment love” – and those were the words you used, can turn so ugly?” she looked down at him, “Love eh? I’ve never had a great deal of respect for that word owing to it being constantly abused, but you’ve put a new meaning to it, and it’s all bad.”
Steven groaned again. “I’ll shoulder most of the blame for what has happened between you and I.” he said, magnanimously, “But I am not going to carry the whole can.” He looked at her defiantly. “So don’t try and make me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing.” She said bending down to kiss his cheek “Is there anything you want?”
He nodded. “Yes!”
“Anything special?”
“I think so!”
“What?”
“You!”
For a fleeting moment she mused. “Well I did tell my father at breakfast that I was visiting you to see if there was anything I could do for you and I never break my word where the family is concerned.” Sitting on the bed, she slid her hand beneath the sheets and located his penis. Softly stroking it, she breathed a sigh of relief as it rapidly stiffened to a more than adequate size.
Steven gasped, his face blushed as the colour of his eyes deepened. “For god sake, Phyllipa… I am pretty fragile, we can’t make love here…”
“Shush!” she hushed him. “This isn’t love. This is your “Commitment” stuff.” With a practised hand she pulled her skirt up then removed her panties. Steven cried out loud. “ My leg won’t take your weight… I didn’t mean I wanted you now. I meant…” the words died away as Phyllipa, fully aroused and shivering with excitement, pushed her naked buttocks into his face. Then sliding her body forward, taking care to avoid his injured leg, straddled his body reversely. With a lot of effort she controlled her furious eagerness, carefully bringing her gaping loins to his engorged phallus, causing the chromium gantry which controlled his damaged leg to rattle and swing dangerously.
Moaning and crying undulating waves of delight invaded her avaricious body, Phyllipa felt his tumescent flesh slide deep inside her, as, grasping the metal sides of the bed, she pulled her pelvis down, greedily determined to capture every last sensation from the libidinous coupling. The delicious pain from her injured hands catapulted her into the first stage of orgasm, floating her carnal senses in and out of her erotic prison, like a kite in the wind.
Keeping her quivering moist flesh as still as she could, purposely denying Steven’s trapped manhood hardly any movement, she suddenly became aware of soft fingers feathering her breasts. Startled she looked up into the face of Steven’s young nurse. “I wondered if you needed any help. My name is Emma!” she offered, bending forward to alternately close her lips around Phyllipa’s engorged nipples, suckling, tasting and massaging them with her busy tongue. “Please hurt me!” Phyllipa gasped. “I need hurting!” nodding understandingly, Emma straightened up, then quickly removing the starched belt from her uniformed waist, bought it down viciously across Phyllipa’s bottom, sending shock waves of ecstasy seething through her loins. Squealing and gasping from the painful pleasure which was getting faster, she suddenly yelled at the top of her voice as her raging climax exploded, leaving her momentarily content. For a few moments she lay there, her head bowed, then carefully extricating herself from the position, stood and gazed down happily at Steven with his throbbing manhood still standing stiff and erect his face plainly showing the strain from the almost impossible demand she had placed upon him. Looking at her accusingly, his eyes blazed “You did that on purpose didn’t you?”
Phyllipa nodded. “You can’t always presume a blue blooded whore like me will come up to your expectations, Sir!”
He groaned, shaking his head in despair. “You are not going to let me forget that are you?”
She giggled, hiding her laughter behind her hands. “I’m not concerned with your memory Steven! It is mine I am worried about.” Turning, she thanked Emma, who stood by passively. Taking an address card from her handbag she passed it to the nurse. “I’m throwing a small Christmas party shortly for a few of my closest friends! If you would like a bit of fun I’d be delighted to see you.” The nurse took the card “It sounds just the thing I am looking for!”
Phyllipa, smiling sweetly, kissed Steven on his forehead. “I’ll try and pop in again! But in the meantime I am sure that Emma here will see to your every need.”
Steven, his penis now a shadow of its former glory, gritted his teeth and glowered at her. “You bitch! I won’t always be in here.”
Phyllipa nodded as she went through the door. “thats what I like to hear. “Positiveness”. … Bye Steven.”
Chuckling to herself she left the hospital, got in her car and drove to SG Packaging. The works were as busy as ever, the machines screaming in their effort to meet their targets. Her office was as she had left it. Briefly thumbing through a pile of unopened mail on her desk, she stood up, walked over to the mirror on the wall and gazed into it. “as of today, .” She told herself. “You are assuming the role of acting Managing Director.”
Walking through the print floor, she smiled as the usual faces greeted her, glad to see her back. Stopping, she inspected the “Kristex” work flowing from the giant “Heidelberg”. Checking the alignment of the carton, inspecting the quality of the printing, she finally pushed her thumb in the air, in her usual manner to the apprehensive machine minder, who grinned as he waved back.
June was banging away on the inevitable word processor when she walked into her office. Her face lit up with surprise then with pleasure.
“I was hoping you would surface.” She rubbed her hands together, as if washing them. “It’s lovely to see you!”
“I’ve just come from the hospital!”
“You’ve seen Steven then?”
“Briefly!”
June waved her arms around the office. “I am in touch with him by phone, but, what I want to know is what is happening to all of this?”
“You and I are going to run it. As of today I am the new acting Managing Director.” Phyllipa’s eyes narrowed. “Ok?”
June, fiddling with the coffee machine, looked up in astonishment. “Yes! O.K. Welcome back!” she handed a cup of coffee over. “Has the appointment got Steven’s blessing?”
Phyllipa slowly shook her head as she blew gently on the hot drink. “I don’t know I haven’t told him yet.”
June stuck a pencil behind her ear. “Oh perhaps he won’t like it?”
“Look! He has little choice, he will be out of action for some time. There is extensive damage to his leg and the last thing that you and I would wish for is him lying in bed worrying about this place.”
“Yes I suppose you are right.” June agreed.
“So until he is fit and well…” Phyllipa stood up and curtsied “I am in charge. Have you a problem with that?”
“No! absolutely not.” June retorted. “As I have told you before, I’m just a plain country girl.” Snatching the pencil from her ear, she banged it down heavily on the desk. “I take it you will be using the MD’s office?”
Phyllipa shook her head. “No I won’t. I like the comfort of my own, besides, Steven’s office is full of things which I don’t
understand.”
“Snap!” June yelled at the top of her voice.
“I’m merely looking after my investment.” Phyllipa protested vehemently, catching the inflection in June’s voice.
“I never said a word.” Her friend protested, picking up her pencil again, “Except to say, welcome back!” Turning, she picked up the internal telephone as it screeched. Covering the mouthpiece with her hand, she looked up. “I have had Steven’s calls re-routed here to me, consequently the damn thing never stops ringing. But with effect from today, you can take them over, right?”
Phyllipa nodded. “Anything to help.” Replacing the receiver looked hopefully at her. “There is a truck in Loading Bay Two picking up egg boxes.”
“I didn’t know we made those things.” Phyllipa interrupted surprised.
June nodded, patiently. “We have a reclamation unit over by the car park. All our waste board goes into it, then come out as egg boxes.”
“Huh!” Phyllipa was astonished. “I haven’t even seen the place, let alone been in it.” June handed her a receipt book. “All I need is a signature, O.K?” she laughed. “And it will be a good chance for the acting Managing Director to familiarise herself with the company’s assets.”
Phyllipa took the pad. “You are still jumpy about me taking over, aren’t you?”
June sighed “Oh dear! Does it show? You mustn’t take much notice of what I say . It’s just all this profile stuff leaves me cold. Time was when I worked as a secretary to Steven Grant who owned the packaging company. Now I’m not quite sure who the hell owns it and to cap it all off, the boss is in hospital with a busted leg.” She grimaced. “My future father-in-law didn’t know the damage he was doing when he kicked Steven in his fiscal parts.”
“Oh I think he did!” Phyllipa assured her. “In fact I am positive he did!”
“Anyway.” June went on. “Last night I spoke to Clive about it all and he said you haven’t made any move against his father yet. But, when you do it will be his family who will need all the sympathy.”
“Did he?” Phyllipa grinned. “Did he really.” She tapped the edge of the receipt pad on the palm of her hand. “I’ll go and get this signature.” Leaving the office she quickly located the unit where she stopped for a few minutes to watch the loading of a large truck supervised by the driver. “Perhaps you would like to sign this for me.” She pushed the receipt book in front of the driver’s face, who turned, then took a pace back in sheer astonishment.
“Miller !” Phyllipa gave a small yelp of pleasure at seeing an old acquaintance.
“Ms Phyllipa!…. What on earth are you doing here?”
“I work here.” She answered, “But, more to the point, what are you doing here?” her hand indicated to the truck. “And what on earth are you doing driving that thing?”
Miller smiled. “My driver is sick, flu or something. So I’m having to pitch in.” His eyes lit up with curiosity. “What do you mean you work here?”
It was Phyllipa’s turn to smile. “It’s a long story Miller.” She looked him up and down, noting the scuffed jeans, roughrider shirt and the wide buckled leather belt covering his muscular body. “It must be nearly a year since we had our one and only encounter, remember?”
He laughed. “Of course I remember. How could I forget something like that?”
she feathered the corner of her mouth with her fingers. “So where are you now?”
“Nearer than you think, Ms Phyllipa. I farm just the other side of your estate’s outer reaches. In fact on a clear day, with the aid of binoculars, I often see you on your morning ride.”
“I think I should tell you that I don’t ride naked anymore.” She giggled as she stared at his powerful neck.
Miller’s face stretched. “No.” he replied sadly. “I know you don’t.”
“Well I am delighted to see you. You must come to my Christmas party.” She slid her arm through his, carnally aware of the sweaty warmth of his body. “There will only be a few of us but I can guarantee you will enjoy yourself.” Her eyes ranged over the truck. , I have always wished to see what sort of space there is in the back of one of those. How about a conducted tour?”
“My pleasure.” Miller grinned, pulling her into the hydraulic loader. Pressing a switch, the platform elevated to the required height allowing them to step inside. Phyllipa looked around at the pallets of egg boxes. “I suppose it gets pretty dark in here when the doors are closed?” Miller shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never travelled in the back.”
“Well, let’s see. Pull the door down!” She ordered, running the flat of her hand against his bulging flies. With a crash the tailgate dropped, leaving them in stygian* darkness.
What seemed like a minute later Miller struggled to his feet and buttoned up his trousers. “Only with practice, Ms Phyllipa, could I really give you the satisfaction you so richly deserve.” Gently grasping her waist he stood her back on her feet.
“What makes you think I am not satisfied?”…. Phyllipa was genuinely surprised that one of her lovers would even contemplate that she had not taken full advantage of the coupling. His laughter echoed around the enclosed truck as he touched an electric button sending the doors shooting upwards, slotting themselves neatly into the roof, allowing eye-blinking daylight to invade their privacy. “I am sure you are.” He replied. “Or at least, I hope you are. But, I would welcome the opportunity to really exploit your licentiousness. Not much can be proved with “Quickies”. Phyllipa’s eyes narrowed as she studied him, intrigued by the obvious challenge. “Practice!” she murmured. “Well they do say that it makes for perfection, don’t they? My Christmas party is only a fortnight away, but if you feel like an undress rehearsal before then, you can always come up to the house?”
- Stygian (meaning) gloomy
For a few moments whilst the loading platform brought them back to ground level he was silent. “No I don’t think so.” He finally told her. “I can manage the
Christmas party, but coming to the house? No! that would be difficult.”
“We do have a nursery door at the back, which is always open.” She explained, looking at him scornfully. “And don’t forget, it is you who has thrown down the challenge.” She raised her eyebrows and although smaller in stature managed to look down at him. “Or do we all shout “Chicken!”
“Alright! You win. When?”
“Tomorrow evening!” Hardly able to contain the excitement running through her at the thought of having an old friend for the night, she sauntered back to the front office, amusing herself by dreaming up all sorts of probable scenarios. June was on the telephone shouting her head off to some poor unfortunate on the other end. Slamming the receiver down, she spotted Phyllipa. “It’s no good everyone thinking I have three pairs of hands.” She yelled, angrily. “Because I haven’t.”
“Missing the boss, are you June?” Phyllipa asked the question, innocently as she helped herself to some coffee.
Her friend glared at her. “you are the Managing Director, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Well would you kindly mind taking the M.D’s calls!”
“Much as I would like to June, I cannot be in two places at once. I have been immersed in egg boxes.”
“Oh sorry! I had forgotten you had gone over there.” June held out her hand. “Receipt book please.”
Pulling it from her pocket Phyllipa handed it to her. “That reclamation unit is a pretty good operation isn’t it?”
“Sixty five per cent profit.” June murmured, thumbing through the pad. “Where’s the signature?”
Phyllipa snatched it from her hand. “Ah!” taking June’s pencil from her hand, she scribbled something undecipherable in the book. “How’s that?”
Her friend, looking at Phyllipa suspiciously, took the pad back. “You must have had other things on your mind out there.” She hazarded, a curious gleam in her eye.
The acting M.D smiled as she went to the door. “Pretty cl
ose! June. Pretty close!” she yelled, returning to her own office.
Chapter 21
Henry Inchcape-Gore was thumbing through the gossip columns of his favourite newspaper when Lord Braseby barged in unannounced. His normally florid face was redder than usual as his eyes flashed danger signals. Brushing past Bradford, the butler, he plonked his bulky self down in a chair. “I want to talk to you Henry.” He expostulated in a tone which was supposed to brook no argument.
Lord Hemingham slowly looked up from his paper. “I like my visitors to be announced.” He said, quietly.
“This is very urgent!”
“For whom?”
Braseby ignored the question. “I have just returned from my bank where I have received some disquieting news.”
Inwardly, Henry chuckled. His daughter had done what had to be done, and he knew exactly what was coming. Slowly folding his newspaper, he looked at his irate visitor.
“Go on!”
The red face turned the heat up and glared. “You have poached one of my clients.” He complained. “Not just any old client, but our biggest client. “Locotrend!” he snuffled with rage. “They have transferred themselves. Lock, stock and bloody barrel to your bloody bank.” With difficulty he got to his feet and walked up and down, wagging his finger. “This has to stop Henry. You and I have an agreement, defend and survive! I don’t take your accounts and you don’t take mine! For years it has been like that. It is a gentleman’s agreement!” he sat down heavily in the chair again. “So, what are we going to do about it?”
“My father is not going to do anything!”
Both men looked up as Phyllipa entered the room. She walked over to her father, bent down and kissing his cheek, stood by his side. Then she smiled at Lord Braseby, who tried holding her gaze without success.
“Your father and I are having a confidential chat.” He blustered, “I’m sure you will excuse us. After all, this has nothing to do with you!”
“It has everything to do with my daughter.” Lord Hemingham said. “She now owns the family bank!”
His Lordships Daughter Page 16