The Paul and Jenny stories. Part 18q.
(All characters are fictitious. No similarity with anybody is intended).
Part 17.
Jenny.
Damn that alarm. I can't have had more than four hours sleep. At least there wasn't any sounds coming from Shirley's room. They must be exhausted after last night.
I needed the toilet.
A shower would be nice as well. It might wake me up.
Should I make sure they are awake before I go in? I suppose I'd better.
"Hello." I called through the door, "are you awake?"
"Hmm."
Shirley grunted some kind of reply.
I sat down. That was better. And again. I must remember to get some toilet paper today. Oh. When? If Ron came then I won't get a chance. I had to get a message through to him not to come. That could be harder then it sounds. I knew where in Bristol he is today but I had to go to college.
I hate it when it is a bit messy. I didn't see Paul's fascination with that part of my body. Although it is nice to have it touched and licked. Once he gets it inside it isn't that bad either.
I turned the shower on and waited for the cold water to clear the pipes. That felt good.
It is strange that now, when I'm washing it I don't feel much but then there are times when I'm making myself come that if I touch it it can feel as sensitive as my clitoris.
I'd best get on. I put fresh towels out. I had a feeling they would need them. They would have to make do with toast and tea for breakfast. I wasn't going to stand there cooking him a fry-up. That was Shirley's job.
Hmm. If I rang Ron's house and his wife answers what can I say? 'Tell Ron not to come tonight, I've changed my mind about letting him have me.'
It might be best just go shopping so I'm not here when he arrives. The cowards way out. That would be what Paul would do. Duck the question. Take the easy way. Or was it the most sensible way?
It would greatly complicate all of our lives if I do go through with it.
I looked out through the door to check that the coast was clear. It sounded like he was having her again!
I wished Paul were here to have me.
Who would be ringing at this time?
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Paul.
Oh. My head hurt. It always does after whisky.
What happened?
Oh fuck.
I'd fucked Louise. But I hadn't come. Does that count as a fuck? She came. So she would class it as one.
Maurice wasn't happy. Well I wouldn't be if I came home and found Jenny with Howie's cock inside her as he did Mary-Belle. I still wasn't clear if Howie had already fucked Heather as well or not or if she had been waiting for her turn.
Louise was very clingy in the car. Heather wasn't very happy about that. Howie's hands were all over Mary-Belle. I'm not sure she should have been driving. She looked high to me.
I remember Louise was a little upset when I wouldn't spend the night with her and Heather stormed off when I didn't want her to stay either.
I'd make it up to them but the only things they would both want would be another fuck.
I needed the bathroom.
I stood up. What time was it? Ten o'clock. There was a good hour and a half before we had to leave for the airport.
Something gurgled inside me. I did need the toilet. Badly.
That was better. Now the shower. Only lukewarm. Wake me up. That felt good. I could fall asleep in here.
I stepped from the shower and dried myself with a towel from the rail. That was a bit better. Could I trust my hand with a razor? It would have to be done. My fingers weren't shaking that much. A good clean of the teeth to freshen up my mouth. I was starting to feel human again.
I started packing, leaving the clothes I was going to wear to one side. I dressed then I took the small briefcase from my suitcase and pondered over its contents for a few seconds. Just routine documents he had said. And yet we had an official diplomat's stamp in our passports.
Never mind. We could deliver it tomorrow. I was more concerned about my grandfather. I did tell Louise and she said she would get their local correspondent, Bill, to see what he could find out.
We probably wouldn't get a reply until we got there.
Should I ring Jenny? She would be starting her afternoon lessons now. If I left it until we were at the airport she should be home by then. I could always ring my mother I suppose. She might have heard something.
Somebody was at the door.
"Who is it?" I asked walking towards it.
"Room service." Came the disembodied reply.
I opened the door and the boy in a smart white jacket wheeled in a trolley with breakfast laid out upon it. Heather followed carrying a large plastic bag.
"Good morning." She said cheerily kissing me on the cheek. "Your laundry."
I gave the boy a dollar bill then sat on the end of the bed with the breakfast trolley before me.
"Thank you." I said pouring a cup of coffee.
There were two cups so I poured one for Heather. She squeezed onto the bed next to me and picked up a slice of toast.
"So what happened when Maurice came in?" I asked, biting into my own slice of toast.
"Well." She started, pausing to take a sip of coffee. "We were playing cards."
"I know."
"Yes. You and Louise?"
"Yes?"
"Did you?"
I wasn't sure how to answer that. A gentleman never tells tales out of bed.
"Hmm."
I put my arm around her waist.
"Oh." She said.
She was silent for a few seconds.
"We played poker and Mary-Belle had some cigarettes. I smoked one. Will I become an addict?"