The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 16b: Spanish Honeymoon Part 2
We landed at Malaga International Airport from Gatwick Airport at three in the afternoon.
It had hardly turned out to be the fun filled first night of married bliss I'd hoped for.
First the manager had arrived in response to somebody reporting a naked man in the corridor. Then the police arrived and wanted statements concerning the intruder and then, to end a perfect night Howie arrived drunk as a skunk. Carol went straight to their room and Jenny had followed her. Howie wanted me to stay up and drink with him. I reminded him it was my wedding night and he made a big show of checking our bedroom for Jenny. Of course, she wasn't there but he did find the Vaseline.
The policeman who had taken my statement, such as it was, looked at it, then at me.
What could I say? Anything but what we had intended to use it for. That would have been illegal.
Finally, Jenny returned and we managed to get rid of both Howie and the policeman. Howie left clutching the remains of our bottle of Champagne and, so I discovered later, the Vaseline.
The temperature in England had been a pleasant twenty-two degrees when we left. It was at least ten degrees more when we landed.
I waved to Carlos, who had been in charge of the Villa north of Malaga for as long as I could remember. I still didn't know exactly what my Grandfather had done to deserve the gift of the building on the death of Rodrego's parents but it seemed to suit a lot of people. I loved it there.
Some of my summers had been lonely if I examined them too carefully but all that came to mind were the good times and there had been plenty of those.
"Hallo, Sir." Carlos said pumping my hand with his own. "It has been too long a time."
"How long?" I suddenly couldn't remember my last visit.
"Nearly four years, Sir."
I hadn't been to Spain since before I met Jenny. It had been to long.
Speaking of Jenny.
"Carlos." I felt I should be very formal. "May I introduce my wife, Jennifer."
"Call me Jenny." She said taking his hand and smiling at him. I think she won a fan.
"Let me take your case." Carlos said, taking her bag and leading her to the big silver Mercedes illegally parked by the entrance to the airport terminal building.
I followed behind carrying my own bag.
"This is Herto." Carlos said as a large man climbed from the front of the car and opened the passenger doors and boot.
"Hallo Herto." Jenny said smiling at him.
Herto's eyes widened a little then he turned away and placed our bags in the boot.
I looked over my shoulder as I followed Jenny into the rear of the car. I'd had this feeling of being followed ever since I'd left the flat in London this morning.
Jenny hadn't noticed anything. I'd asked her.
We had had dinner the evening before in the flat of the Admiral and his wife. They had hired in a chef for the evening and a pretty young girl to serve the meal.
Later, in our own flat, full of food and wine and a glass of Brandy I had shared the piano stool with Jenny and played one handed, with my other hand around her waist.
The night was warm and Jenny had rested her head on my shoulder. We talked a little and planned our futures together. Then she fell silent.
I had to shake her awake and she made me carry her to the bedroom. I helped her undress and climbed naked into bed beside her. She lay her head on my shoulder and I felt one of her ass cheeks. She had snuggled closer as I had probed for her anus.
"This is nice." She had said.
I'd rubbed her anus and she had sighed. I switched the light off and closed my eyes for a second.
It was the sounds of Hudson in the flat the next morning, preparing for the arrival of the Wolfensteins that had awoken me. I looked towards the foot of the bed and saw Jenny with a just out of the shower look. She was wearing panties and hooking up her bra.
"Come on sleepy head." She'd said. "Time to get up."
I pushed back the bedclothes to show her that my prick already was.
"No time for that." She'd said. "Make it go down and have a shower. You know Hudson has a lot to do today. He wants to take us to the airport in half an hour."
I'd stretched, held up my prick for her to see.
"No." She'd finished dressing and was walking towards the door. "I'm going to make some tea."
So it had been tea and toast after a quick shower. Then the drive to the airport and this feeling somebody was watching me
We drove away from the airport and started to climb up into the hills above Malaga. I look down on the town as we swept through turn after turn and pointed out various landmarks to Jenny. The clear blue waters of the bay and harbour. The old stone jetty.
We turned onto a minor road and passed through a village with a cobbled square on which was set out tables and chairs in front of the cafe. It was late afternoon and a number of the tables were occupied by, it seemed, mostly middle-aged men drinking wine.
"This must be the village where your grandmother and father and Alistair were caught and your grandfather had to drive a lorry into a crowd of men to rescue them." Jenny said as we passed out of the square continued along the road.
She was beginning to know more of my family history than I did.
My mother once said that she didn't want them filling my head with stories from before I was born. Afraid I might follow in their footsteps I think.
Well, things had certainly happened to me, but only since I'd known Jenny. Perhaps it wasn't me after all? Perhaps it was she?
I took her hand and squeezed it gently. She squeezed my hand back and lay her head against my shoulder.
There was nothing to worry about. I, no we, were on our honeymoon.
A further two miles and we were in the village at the foot of the road leading up to the villa.
The area was starting to become developed. When I was young ours was the only villa of any size in the area. Now we passed four others as we drove into the village and I could see more on the hillside on the far side of it.
"A lot of people are starting to live here." I observed to the two men in the front of the car.
"More and more each year." Carlos replied. "Most are welcome."
"And some are not?" Jenny prompted.
"We do not have an extradition treaty with you country and some find this a good place to live for that reason."
"Are there any living around here?" Jenny asked nervously squeezing my hand.
"No." Carlos reassured her. "I do not think so."
The gates to the Villa were standing open as we arrived. Herto walked back to close them as Carlos helped us with our luggage.
Jenny was introduced to Maria, the cook, who, with Carlos, had been at the Villa for as long as I could remember. Contria, her niece, was in the village that evening but would be back in the morning. She did the cleaning and the beds. The name rang a bell but I couldn't place her face.
"What happened to Carmen?" I asked.
She had done the cleaning for as long as I could remember.
"She has moved down into the village and helps her brother in the cafe now that his wife has died." Carlos replied as we placed our cases on the top of the bed in the main bedroom.
"You will be hungry." Carlos stated rather than asked. "Marie has prepared a meal for you on the balcony."