On the day in March 2001 when her husband suffered a heart attack and died, Lady Ausrey made a decision: downsize. After a minimal period of mourning she began to act. Among the first tog were the Belgravia mansion with its numerous staff and the Bentley, which she had always considered ostentatious.
She traded them in for the penthouse suite in a block of exclusive apartments on Chelsea Reach. She approved of the underground garage where the new Mercedes CLS 250 was parked. She approved of the penthouse as one who firmly believed that sex was more exciting with the curtains open. In her new home she could lean forward while being taken from behind and simultaneously enjoy the panorama of the river below.
The large Belgravia receptions, at which no one ever exchanged more than two sentences with anyone, gave way to small dinner parties to which Lady Audrey invited the great and the good from politics and the arts.
However, having now reached her 65th birthday she had to accept that the penthouse was not adequate. Private facilities at the Savoy were booked and the invitations were sent. It amused her to have sixty-five guests: myself and thirty-two couples, a considerable number of whom had figured in the most recent Sunday Times Rich List.
The toast to Lady Audrey having been proposed by a former Chancellor of the Exchequer, she now stood, champagne glass in hand, ready to respond.
"My dear friends," she said, "I thank your first for joining me on this happy occasion. I thank you also for donating to one of my charities rather than brining presents; I have all I need. I will also thank you in advance for keeping anything I now say to yourselves. If one word appears in the press I will not hold an inquest. In future you will all be removed from my list."
The murmur that greeted this was initially of surprise but could also be understood as acceptance. No one wished to be excluded from Lady Audrey's circle.
"it is now more than eleven years since I lost Rupert ..." She paused to allow everyone a moment's respectful recollection of the late Sir Rupert, property tycoon and financier, whose only notable achievement in this life had been to turn his large inheritance into an even greater sum of money and hide it from the tax inspectors.
, "When Rupert died I could have decided to moulder away. Sit on a few boards, look after my charities, do nothing very much. But that's not my style. I was only fifty-four. There were decisions to be made.
"I had no desire to drive in London traffic but I still wanted to get around without spending a fortune on ludicrous taxi fares. I was also keen to continue going to the gym. I didn't want to be a weight-lifter but I did enjoy feeling fit. That gave me an idea. I spoke to Conrad. It was he who had been supervising my fitness programme."
She turned to smile at me in the position I had taken up by the door, ready to prevent any inopportune return by the waiters.. I smiled back. I knew what was coming.
"I asked him could he drive and did he have a clean licence. The answer was yes to both. So I suggested that he might like to take up employment with me as a chauffeur-cum-full-time-fitness trainer. And together, we have gone from strength to strength."
She held out her arms to draw me to her side Once I had joined her she continued, "Our relationship has changed. From being an employee, my dear Conrad became a companion and then a friend. Well, I know how the gossip grapevine works. It will have been assumed that among many common interests, we share a bed.'
Having allowed a moment for that to register, Lady Audrey went on, "Of course we do. Not only had I no wish to give up sex, I saw an opportunity that was not available when poor Rupert was alive. He did his duty in that department but that's what it became - a duty. For me, it was not often enough nor good enough.
"Please," she said, looking round the room, "don't feel the need to appear shocked. For goodness sake, this is the twenty-first Century. That is the world that Conrad and I live in, and I'm delighted to say that Conrad is a knowledgeable and skillful practitioner. And we have progressed. To the point that we are now ready to take another step forward."
A longish pause this time to allow her guests to think what might follow.
"We have been wondering whether our sex life might be even more exciting if it involved others. Now, we have no wish to indulge in what I understand is called Swinging. However, it may be possible without going that far still to add a little seasoning to the dish.
"Let me be plain then. Conrad and I will now go home to continue my birthday celebration in the appropriate manner. We would like to invite just two other couples to join us. In the first instance, to watch. What might develop, we will have to see.
"Finally, I have no wish to make enemies of any of you, so I will not make the invitation specific. No doubt, you will be able to choose among yourselves. Thank you for coming. I look forward to seeing four of you again shortly."
With that, Lady Audrey took my arm and we left what was probably one of the more unconventional occasions to which the Savoy has given room
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"Were they shocked," she asked when we began the drive back to Chelsea Reach.
"Some tried to be, I think. I suspect it was what we expected: neither partner wanting to let the other half see they were keen."
"Do you think anyone will be brave enough?"
"Perhaps."
"The Fox-Ravens would be good from your point of view."
"Why?" I asked, though I new the answer.
"Big tits, darlling, big tits. Think about Bunty's cleavage with a few drops of baby oil - you'd be in paradise riding them."
We had had this conversation before, and once again I assured her that her own 36C offered plenty of excitement for me.
"I like it that you think so," she said, "but putting the thought in you mind gets you to attention, doesn't it? Need to have you good and ready when we get home. You won't crash into anyone if I do this, will you?" Her hand was sliding along my inner thigh.
"Very possibly, but don't let that stop you."
Approaching apartment block, I punched in the security code and the big metal shutter rose. I parked and opened the passenger door for Audrey. She stepped out, hoisting her hem to show off white flesh above black stockings. "Would be fun if you had me here," she said, "but I suppose we should go up in case someone has plucked up the nerve."
From the penthouse I rang down to tell the concierge we might be expecting guests, who could be sent up. Fifteen minutes later, our door buzzer sounded. Audrey herself let them in: the Trings, Derry and Sophie.
While I poured drinks, Audrey demanded to know what had happened after we had left. "Well," Sophie told her, "there were a few prudes who didn't hang around, but the problem among the rest was deciding who would take up your invitation. In the end, Derry dealt with it."
"All I did," her husband explained with a grin, "was to say if your idea was a success, in due course there would surely be other opportunities for other people. If it wasn't, nobody would have missed anything. But we were prepared to be the guinea pigs."
"Who else?"
"This may surprise you. That Dutch couple - the van Dierck's."
They certainly hadn't been among the names Audrey and I had marked down as possibles. Wim van Dierck had been introduced into Audrey's dinner party circle soon after he arrived in the country charge with setting up a European base for a world wide trading company backed by far eastern finance. His urbane manners made him instantly welcome, as did the presence of Hannah, his strikingly beautiful younger wife.
"What clinched it," Sophie said, "was when Hannah said they had a certain amount of experience. Though she didn't elaborate. Anyway, we've agreed - Derry will have Hannah and Wim is going to do me."
At that point the buzzer announced the arrival of the couple in question. There handshakes and hugs, cheeks kissed. I was encouraged to see that a hug from Hannah was no brief formality; her bosom pressed forward, her hands groped bottom cheeks.
Wim turned to Derry to say, "Have you had a chance to know the rules? We are guests, and we must behave in a manner expected of us."
"There's been no time, Wim," said Audrey, "they've not been here long enough. But we needn't pretend. Bring your drinks and come through. I thought we would use bedroom three - what Conrad and I think of as our playroom."
Once the view of the river had been admired, Audrey pointed out the room's other features. "King size bed. Room for all of us, if that is how things go. But we'll see. At some point Conrad and I will probably escape to our own room to sleep - but not for a while, I hope. The point is, if you want to stay overnight, use this room and bedroom two next door.
"In the meantime, why don't we get undressed? The wardrobe there has plenty of hangers." Trust Audrey, I thought, to have in mind designer cocktail dresses that had set their wearers back several noughts on a cheque. "If Conrad, dear, will just open the doors you will see that they have been put to good use."
I pulled them apart to disclose full-length mirrors on their interior. "I had them fitted by a little man from Wandsworth," Audrey went on. "He offered to put one in the ceiling but I told him I didn't want a tart's boudoir. He gave me a funny look and said I'd be surprised how many do. But you'll see we've brought the cheval glass in from the dressing room, and there are the dressing table mirrors, too. Conrad will arrange them so you will be able to see plenty."
By this time Derry, Wim and I were down to our underpants. The women provided a wonderful display of erotic lingerie. Audrey was in black bra, knickers, suspender belt and stockings, because she knew that was how I liked her. Sophie, in keeping with the silver dress now hanging in the wardrobe wore white: bra, knickers and hold-up stockings. The knickers did nothing to conceal a prominent mound. The beautiful Hannah wore less than anyone: french knickers and stockings in pale lavender. No bra; her tits were by no means small but they needed no support.
