This is the forty-second episode of my unreliable memoirs recounting sexual encounters in the nineteen eighties. Each episode is self-contained, so you can read them without having read the previous ones.
For a change, the next few chapters are going to be written from Lesley's perspective.
I hope you enjoy them.
M4bloke
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Foreword
When Steven started writing these stories, I didn't think he'd write so many. However, recording his unofficial memoirs (if you like) seems to have given him a lot of fun over the past few years.
As his wife, I'm the first to read them when he finishes. Each time it's like taking a trip down memory lane and while some of the situations have been changed, almost all of the sex happened at one point or another. It makes me wish I could recapture my youth and those carefree days.
There's no denying that the two of us have led a very fortunate life although, at times, it's felt a bit like the film, 'Sliding Doors'. If we hadn't met then things could have ended up very differently for both of us. But here we are now, thirty odd years later, still together and still in love.
It's been fun reading about my character in these stories but, if I had a criticism about the way Steven's portrayed Lesley, then I'd have to say he's romanticised her a bit. For want of a better word, I've always been a bit of a slut. I've no doubt it was part of the reason Steven found me attractive but, perhaps to spare my modesty, he's toned that down a bit in his stories.
I'm also guilty of falling in love with people a little too easily, although I've never seen this as a problem. Love is an odd concept and means different things to different people, but I'm the first to admit that I've been in love with, and have loved, many people.
With Steven however, it's always been about more than love. He says that we've become like a nut and a bolt that's rusted together over time, totally inseparable. I rather like that description, but in my mind we became inseparable from the moment we met.
So I thought it might be interesting for readers to see things from my perspective. There's too much to put down in one episode, so I'm going to spread it out over a few. I'm going to narrate, Steven's going to do the typing and hopefully you, the reader, will enjoy the result...
Lesley Carter
August 2024
Preamble
It is the summer of 1985. Steven and I have been married almost two years now. I'm twenty five while, for a couple of months longer, he's still only twenty two. I hate people knowing he's younger than me. It makes me feel like a cradle-snatcher. Fortunately, most people think we're the same age, partly because Steven looks a bit older than he is, but mostly because he acts it.
In June, Steven pulled off the deal of his life, selling the Iris battlefield communication system to the American military. It was a huge success for him and cemented his position in Durolitum investments, the company he works for.
It wasn't just Steven who made it happen of course. Sam, one of his closest friends and part time employee, was key to convincing the Americans to buy Iris. And of course Ferdinand Obermann, head of the Obermann Corporation, gave the deal the sound manufacturing and support base it needed to succeed.
Although agreed in principal, there's still work to do before contracts can be signed, but if this goes smoothly then Steven and I can look forward to going on holiday in August and letting our hair down for a while.
Steven's success has come at a cost for me however. I lost my job in the hospital laboratory where I worked, because I needed more time off to support him than my employers would allow. So now I'm unemployed. I do own a stake in Sam and Carly's comic book store, but I want to focus my efforts on supporting Steven, even though I'm not really sure what that means in practise.
Chapter 1 - Coming Home - Part 1
The Business Class cabin was almost empty. I had a whole row of seats to myself while Sam and Carly sat in the row behind me. Despite the noise of the plane's engines I could hear the two of them talking to each other. Every now and then Carly would giggle at something Sam said then it would go quiet again.
The evening flight from San Francisco to London looked to be an easy shift for the cabin crew. After they'd plied the handful of passengers with complimentary Champagne then fed them a meal, the lights were dimmed and the crew disappeared behind a curtain.
Half an hour later, Sam and Carly got out of their seats and made their way to the front of the cabin. I watched as the two of them disappeared into the same lavatory cubicle. The 'ENGAGED' sign lit up and stayed that way for about fifteen minutes. If the cabin crew were aware of what was going on, they weren't concerned. The flight was empty and if, after paying full price for two Business Class tickets, a couple wanted to have sex in an uncomfortable toilet cubicle then who were they to object.
When they emerged, Sam tried to maintain a modicum of decorum as he walked back to his seat, while Carly grinned from ear to ear. Carly could be such a tart. She touched my shoulder as she walked past and smiled cheekily at me. I gave her a knowing smile back, hoping that my jealousy didn't show through.
A few days ago, Sam, Carly, Steven and I had left the Walmsley's ranch in Colorado, bound for Las Vegas. From there, we'd ridden our Harleys through Death Valley and on to Yosemite, before reaching our final destination of San Francisco on Tuesday night. After dropping the rented bikes off at the local dealership we'd had half a day doing touristy things before Steven flew on to Washington for the next round of Iris meetings, while Sam, Carly and I had caught a flight back to London.
I hadn't wanted to leave Steven at the airport but I knew there wasn't any point in going to Washington with him. He and Ferdinand Obermann had work to do and I'd just have been a hindrance. In time, the Iris deal would make Steven a wealthy man and me, as his wife, a wealthy woman. To be honest, back then I don't think I realised quite how wealthy we'd become. I mean, we were already doing alright by most people's standards.
I'd bought some pills at the pharmacy in the departure lounge to help me sleep. They must have been strong because, after popping a couple, the next thing I knew was the cabin attendant waking me for breakfast. I made a mental note to ask Steven to buy some more on his next trip to the US.
The flight landed at Heathrow ahead of time, early on Thursday morning. Lynne, Steven's assistant had organised taxis for us and two men stood in the Arrivals area with placards displaying our names. I gave Sam and Carly a hug and told them I'd see them soon. Sam had been a good friend to Steven and despite my petty jealousy, I loved Carly really.
Observing the taxi driver fight through the London traffic was a wake-up call after the emptiness of the Colorado Rockies. But, after two weeks away, it felt good to get home to Wimbledon, even though the house was empty. Suzy was at work and as it was Thursday, Carole would be on her way back to Provence that afternoon.
Taking in the silence, I thought about Steven for a moment. The past fortnight had been such an adventure. Immediately, I felt lonely without him. He'd be back on Saturday though, so I only had to last a couple of days.
I had a shower, thought about going to sleep for a bit, but I wasn't tired. So I decided to phone the stables in Wimbledon and ask if there was any chance of a riding lesson at short notice. Staying with the Walmsleys at their ranch in Colorado had reignited my passion for riding and I thought a few more lessons might stand me in good stead if we visited Germany over the summer, as both Ursula and Heike were keen equestrians. Fortunately the stables had availability so I changed into my jodhpurs and polo top, located my boots, helmet and crop and after a quick bite to eat headed off in the Land Rover.
Ambling along a track on an American pony is very different to riding a horse properly. I'd picked up more than a few bad habits it seemed, which my instructor was at pains to point out. Both Ursula and Heike rode so stylishly and, while I knew I was never going to be anything like as good as them, I tried to listen to what my instructor was telling me. Rome wasn't built in a day though and I resolved to book some more lessons. Of course, now that I didn't have a proper job any more I'd have more than enough time in the week to practise.
On the way home I stopped at the supermarket in Wimbledon and stocked up on a few provisions. Carole and Suzy had kept the fridge full while we we'd been away, but we could always do with a pint of milk and a loaf of bread. In my tight jodhpurs I got more than a few admiring glances as I pushed my trolley along the aisles. There was something about Jodhpurs that seemed to do it for guys. It wasn't a surprise I guess, the tight leggings clung to me, leaving little to the imagination.
When I got back home I saw Daniel's Aston Martin parked up as I pulled into the driveway. We both got out of our cars, me carrying my riding hat and crop and him still in his expensively tailored business suit.
"I thought I'd come round and see if there was anything you needed," he said.
