The Paul & Jenny Stories

The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 14c: Back to Egypt Part 03

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Part 3.

Chapter 8. (Linda).

Cairo. December 1971.

My head was splitting when I next opened my eyes. I closed them again and took two deep breaths. I could still smell and taste the chloroform they'd used. I tried to lift my hand to my face but I could hardly move it. I looked over my shoulder at it. There was a manacle around my wrist and a short chain securing me to the flat, cloth covered surface, I was lying on. My other wrist and legs were secured in the same manner. I was wearing a necklace, and nothing else. A single, lampshade less, light bulb dangled from the ceiling above me. They could do with a brighter bulb.

I could hear people talking outside.

"Help me. Help me." I screamed.

The voices continued as if they hadn't heard.

Suddenly the door opened. The room was filled with the stench of decay. Somebody was speaking in a language I had never heard before. No. I had heard those words. Jerez had spoken them as Paul fucked me when we were trying to reverse the ceremony Ahmed had performed with Jenny in the old Temple. That meant somebody would have to be fucked.

I looked down, over my naked tits. A big man with blond hair was climbing onto the table between my open legs.

"No." I scream. "No. No. No."

His face appeared above me as his prick pushed at the entrance to my cunt. I knew him.

"Han's." I shouted as he entered me. "Don't do it."

I gasped as he plunged his cock deep inside me. He was big.

"Han's. Please don't."

I pleaded but all he did was smile as he moved in and out of me. His movements accompanied by the steady incantation being spoken at his side. His movements quickened. He thrust deep inside me as he came. There were tears running down the side of my face. I wanted to go home.

Hans looked down at me. There was a shocked expression on his face.

"You didn't like?" He asked, climbing from the table. "My sister said you wanted me."

"No. I didn't," I burst out crying. It was so unfair.

A figure wrapped in a dark brown cloak approached the head of the table. The smell of decay increased.

"It has not worked. The other still lives. I need them both together."

I couldn't see his features but the voice was so much like the tour guide who been my lover the previous year. But he was dead.

He touched my forehead; his fingers little more than bones. His touch was gentle. My eyes were becoming heavy.

"What shall we do next, master," I heard a voice I did recognise. It was Jerez's former boss, Ahmed. They'd told me he was dead.

"The other will come, and my High Priestess will come with him. Then we shall complete the ceremony. We must prepare their minds. Come."

"This girl?" A man with a German accent asked.

I'd heard that voice before. It was so difficult to concentrate.

"Your men may have her when we're finished."

Who?

"My money?"

"That will come."

I tried to keep listening but I felt so tired.

Chapter 9. (Paul).

I was glad to take the opportunity of driving Shirley back to her flat to change.

Carole had phoned America and finally managed to get through to her mother at the Wolfenstein house. Louise had answered the phone and insisted on talking to me whilst somebody went to fetch Martha. The bullet wound to her side had left no permanent damage and she was talking about starting work again on her Newspaper in a month or so. She was making a wonderful recovery. Martha came on and I said my goodbyes and hello's then handed the receiver to Carole. Whilst she was speaking Howie pulled up in a large, blue Rover. They didn't speak for two minutes; they just stood in the hallway looking at each other. Then Carole dropped the phone and threw her arms around his neck and I went back into the front room where Jenny sat in my armchair cradling Harvey. She certainly looked the part. I kept my distance, not wanting to risk a repeat of the events of the morning.

After what seemed an age Carole and Howie came back into the front room, holding hands and smiling. Howie picked up Harvey.

Jenny said she would make something for lunch and I was given the task of driving Shirley home.

It was only when she stood up that I noticed that Harvey had christened her jeans, well. It looked like she'd pissed herself. I waited outside the flat whilst Shirley went inside. I told her it was to guard my car but I had never felt really comfortable in there since I'd known that Mike had fucked Jenny there. I don't know what I'd have felt like had I come home the previous night to find her fucking with Matt. I still hadn't spoken properly to her about that.

I was lost in my thoughts and didn't notice Rose and Sharon stepping out of a taxi loaded down with bags of shopping.

"Nice car, Paul," Rose said, waking me from my thoughts. "Are you going to take us for a ride."

The thought occurred to me that I'd like to take them both, but not for the ride they had in mind. They were becoming well-formed young women. The few times that I'd seen Rose after her rape in Cyprus the summer the year before she had been silent and withdrawn but now she looked full of life and happiness. I must ask Shirley what was going on. Perhaps she had a boyfriend? I climbed out of my car and offered to help carry their bags but they refused my offer so all I could do was hold the door open for them and watch their legs disappear up the stairs. I heard talking on the step above and Shirley came down, coat open and her tits bouncing, carrying a small overnight bag. And to think that my best mate, Steve, only shagged her when, to use his words, there was nothing better to do. She seemed to like the arrangement. Strange. We arrived back at the house and I held the front door open for her. It looked as if we were going to have a full house tonight. I tripped over the suitcases in the hall. Jenny's suitcase? Now what had I done? My suitcase? Were we going to her parents after all?

"Paul," She said, standing in the hall wearing a three-quarter-length skirt and blouse. "I have had a phone call from Jerez, in Cairo. Ian's been beaten up and is in hospital and Linda's missing. He thinks we can help and has booked us on a flight to Cairo from London tomorrow. Our visa's are in order and Hudson will have the flat ready for us in London tonight."

"But..." I started.

"Carole and Howie will stay here for a few days, they want to be alone together. They need a baby sitter tonight, Shirley." She called into the front room. "Are you hungry or shall we leave straight away?"

We left.

Chapter 10. (Jenny).

Paul's mood seemed to lighten the further from Bristol we drove. We battled through the rain along the motorway into London. I explained again what Jerez had told me, occasionally squeezing his thigh and balls to help keep him alert.

Howie had wanted him to leave the Morgan for him to use while we were away but Paul was adamant he wasn't. He said they could keep his hire car or use mine. Which was nice of him. Shirley was over the moon about baby sitting, Rose and Sharon would be coming to keep her company for part of the evening whist Howie and Carole went out for a meal and a quiet talk. It was after five when we pulled into the car park at the rear of the flats in Chiswick in London. We went to the front door and Paul let us in with his passkey. Hudson had the use of one of the ground floor flats and the door to it, behind his little counter, was open. Paul pressed the button on the desk. I could hear voices from inside the flat and Hudson appeared tucking in his shirt.

"Good evening," he said. "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

"Yes we made good time," Paul said, trying to see who was in the flat behind him. "Is the flat ready?"

"Everything is ready. Will you want anything tonight?"

"No thanks, we will be eating out." Paul picked up our cases. We took the lift to the top floor and I used Paul's key to open the door. I went into the kitchen to make a drink while Paul put the suitcases in the bedroom and took some money from the floor safe in the closet. I came into the lounge carrying two mugs of tea that I placed on mats on the large glass topped coffee table between the two sofas. I could hear Paul moving in the bathroom. The toilet flushed and the shower was turned on. I sat down and sipped at my tea. I supposed I'd better shower as well if we were going out to eat so, standing up I quickly undressed and opened the bathroom door.

Paul was in the shower end of the bath with the curtains drawn around him. I could see the steam rising above him. I hoped it wasn't too hot. I stepped in the bath and pulled open the curtain.

He looked over his shoulder as I crowded in behind him.

"Hallo," he said, soaping his prick and balls.

"Hallo," I replied, taking the shampoo and working some into his hair then some into my own.

I closed my eyes as the suds ran down my face.

His hands were on my breasts, lathering them, then my stomach and my pubic hairs. I gave an involuntary shiver as the first of the water reached the crevice between my ass cheeks. I opened my eyes and looked into his. We smiled. Taking the shampoo again I worked on his chest, stomach, prick and balls. I knew he'd done them but it does pay to be thorough. Well I hoped it would. I pulled his foreskin back and released it. His prick jerked beneath my touch. He reached behind me with one hand and worked his fingers between my ass cheeks. I took a deep breath as he touched my anus, putting my arms around him and pulling him tight. With his spare hand he switched off the taps and we stood there for a few seconds holding each other and dripping water while he gently massaged my hole.

"What do you want to do tonight?" he asked my hair.

"This," I replied to his chest.

His hard on was sticking up between us so I ground my pubic mound against it. A deep sound came from the back of his throat. I reached down and squeezed his ass cheeks.

"Shall we go to bed?" He asked.

"Wherever you want me."

He threw open the curtain and we stepped out of the bath his finger still against my anus and my hands cupping his ass cheeks. He picked up a towel as we walked, crab like, into the lounge and towards the bedroom. Ding-Dong.

The doorbell rang.

"Leave it," I said, licking one of his nipples.

"I can't," he replied, changing direction without loosing contact with my hole.

"That's nice," I murmured as he opened the door to the hall and felt his prick jump.

"Who is it he called through the door when we reached it."

"Lady Gwyneth, we heard you come."

I hadn't.

"We, I mean I've just had a shower." Paul was easily flustered.

I thought I'd help his confidence by slipping my hand between us and holding his prick.

"Come down when your ready, we haven't seen you in months."

Down. Okay. I dropped to my knees and licked the tip of his prick before letting it slide between my lips.

He seemed to be having trouble speaking.

"We will be down shortly," he finally managed to say.

He had his hands on the back of my head. He pulled my mouth from his prick and knelt down facing me. He looked into my eyes and my inside's somersaulted. Gently he guided me onto my back, lifting my thighs until my knees almost touched my nipples. He looked down at my holes then lowered his mouth to my fanny. Gently, oh so gently, he licked and nibbled at my outer lips, then his tongue searched for the entrance between. I reached down and ran my fingers through his wet hair. I could feel myself becoming wetter as he filled me with a warm glow that started to intensify as his tongue found my clit. I moaned, then groaned. Then gasped as his tongue moved faster. Suddenly he stopped. I looked down in frustration.

He moved above me. His prick pushing at the entrance to my hole. I almost cried as he entered me. I came on his third stroke. I could feel his balls banging against my ass cheeks. I was building again and again. I gripped his hips with my thighs as he started to really move in and out. I dug my fingernails into his back as I came again. I could feel him, growing then jerking inside me. Slowing, stopping then moving slowly in and out again.

I kissed his chin as we lay there, in the hall, joined together. He looked down into my eyes. I really did love him.

To Be Continued...