Close Observation Ch 13

When Ron got back to Pimlico, he cleaned. Vicky and Annabelle were fastidious, and the flat was clean, but it wasn't

Household Brigade clean

. In his army days, Ron would wear white gloves and would go around the barracks checking for dirt or dust. He'd briefly taught officer cadets at Sandhurst, before everything had kicked off in the Middle East. At Sandhurst, if things weren't exactly right, if there was a spot of dust on the bottom of a windowsill, for example, he would throw the cadet's mattress, pillow and kit out of the window.

Now he cleaned his room and all the communal areas. He tried not to think about Marie and Tarquin as he did so. He had j-cloths, a toothbrush he'd brought from his place for cleaning, and a bowl of soapy water. He struggled to keep his mind off of Marie. He was glad they were friends again and it had felt lovely when she held him and kissed him. His skin had felt damp when she was crying and her face was against his.

Ron couldn't shake thoughts about her new relationship with Tarquin the student. He resented Tarquin. Marie had told people that she was with a guy, and that she thought she was falling in love. Ron found this difficult to accept. He realised that life wasn't fair, but he struggled to deal with the fact that, though he might well be a perfectly pleasant individual, Tarquin was just a scrawny little cunt. Tarquin hadn't got into the army. Tarquin hadn't gone to Bosnia and Iraq and Afghanistan, and he hadn't gone there and kept everyone around him alive, even when the fucking ground started exploding. Tarquin hadn't done that stuff, he'd never be able to. Tarquin had probably never worked a day in his life, he couldn't run a mile and a half in nine minutes, he couldn't lift as much weight as Ron could lift. If people were shooting at him, if he was in a hole in the ground and rounds were coming in, and rocket propelled grenades were coming in, and if an eighteen year old kid was lying next to him, white with shock and fear, looking at Tarquin and hoping Tarquin would deal with the situation, then, Ron suspected, Tarquin would struggle to do so.

But Tarquin was having sex with Marie. Marie was reportedly falling in love with Tarquin. Tarquin seemed to have been with lots of women and seemed able to get them to do whatever he wanted them to do. Ron struggled to accept all of this. Deep down, he thought that good things in life had to be earned. He felt like he had put effort and courage into life. He suspected that Tarquin had not done so, perfectly pleasant and nice an individual though he may be. He could remember what Tarquin and his friends had done to the blonde student, Elaine, who Ron had thought was a nice girl, and what they'd done to Caroline. He assumed they had done similar things to other women. Ron thought that Marie looked at himself like you would look at a puppy with three legs. He had seen Marie and Tarquin having sex, and he remembered Marie looking at Tarquin as if he was Jesus Christ.

He cleaned for slightly more than two hours, and he thought about Marie and Tarquin for much of that time. When he'd finished, he felt happy with the state of the place. It had been alright before, but now everywhere was spotless and gleaming.

When she got back from the gym, Annabelle was happy with the state of the flat too. She couldn't believe how clean it was. She looked at Ron as if he was mentally unbalanced.

'Oh my God! What is wrong with you? What sort of a bloke are you?' she said.

'I got used to having everything pucker in the army,' said Ron.

'Oh my God, this is amazing!' said Annabelle.

Annabelle asked Ron if she could do her room as well and he said he could. She asked him if he wanted money in return or if he wanted a blowjob. Ron wasn't sure if she was joking about the blowjob. She said she had a booking at the flat in Victoria later. She 'd told Katie she'd ask him if he could be there. He said he could do it. She said the booking was with a couple.

***

The Russians were very intoxicated when Ron got to Belgravia. They had bought bottles of the Irish whiskey he had introduced them to. Between them they seemed to have drunk four large bottles since he had last seen them.

Ron thought it would be better to drive them to Kings Cross rather than take them on the tube. Alexey had a tablet with him and watched pornography with the sound on full as they drove. Alexey kept showing the tablet to the others, showing them what was going on in the porn film. He tried to show Ron what was happening when he stopped at traffic lights. Ron didn't have much time to look but he could see an incredibly pretty blonde woman having sex with five men at the same time. Ron politely thanked Alexey for showing him the film.

***

Ron's niece had told him on the phone that they had to look for Platform nine and three quarters at King's Cross. He asked a staff member where the platform was. The staff member smiled and immediately pointed him towards platform eight. On the platform, there was a crowd of people around a sign on the wall. The sign said platform 9 and three quarters. The crowd was mostly families, tourists from around the world who took photos of the sign and took selfies and photos of each other in front of it. The Russians loved it. They took photos of each other by the sign. They seemed to love being around the children, bizarrely. They would hold children up so that they were next to the station sign, for their pictures to be taken. The other tourists were friendly and polite, but wary of these rough, obviously drunken men.

Ron asked them what they would like to do after that. They wanted to go to a pub. Ron thought it might be best if they drank close to home. He knew a tiny pub in a mews, spitting distance from their house. He took them there. The pub was called the Grenadier, and there was a painting of a Grenadier Guardsman on the sign outside. It would normally have almost physically hurt Ron to drink in a pub with a Grenadier Guards theme, but he knew it was a small pub which was off the beaten track, and felt this would be ideal for the Russians, who would almost certainly drink heavily and take cocaine for most of the rest of the day.

The Irish whiskey Ron had got them into was the new drink of choice. Ron was impressed by how much of it the Russians consumed, even presumably assisted by cocaine. They told him more about Chechnya. Ron got the impression that the fighting there had been bitter and vicious. He told them about Afghanistan. Alexey's English seemed better than the others, and he often took on the role of interpreter. Ron told them that Chechens fighting with the Taliban in Afghanistan had been respected. The Russians seemed to have nothing but contempt for them. Dimitri described mutilating a captured Chechen. Because of the language difficulties, Ron wasn't sure if Dimitri meant he had mutilated a corpse or whether the man had been alive, at least at the start of the process.

After quite a long debate in Russian, they asked Ron to take them home. He was surprised by this. When they got back, they said they didn't need him until the next day, at twelve. They seemed to want him out of the way, so Ron obliged. He got back to Pimlico. Annabelle was still there but Vicky was out.

'Mr Ron?' said Annabelle.

'You alright?' said Ron.

'Yes... I have a business proposition for you,' said Annabelle.

'Oh, really, what might that be?' asked Ron. He thought he had an idea what it would be.

'What are you doing tomorrow night?' asked Annabelle.

'Nothing booked in yet,' he said.

'Ok. I might be doing something, and I would like to have you with me, but I don't want anyone else to know about it,' said Annabelle.

'Annie, I can't do anything behind Katie's back, she's my mate. If you're seeing someone on the side, I won't say anything, but I can't be part of it,' said Ron.

She laughed at him.

'Oh, bless you, no, nothing like that! Katie's my mate as well, and between us, I think she needs the money!' said Annabelle. It struck Ron that there was no point whatsoever in trying to keep anything secret in this crowd.

Everybody

knew

everything

(did Marie know that he was in love with her?).

'Ok, that's a relief. What do you need me for?' asked Ron.

'I wouldn't want anyone to know,' said Annabelle.

'Don't worry about that,' said Ron.

'I like to go to a club in Soho. It's a sex club. I like going there, but blokes, and some pretty butch lesbians, assume that any woman who sets foot in the place is fair game. They think you're up for anything with anyone. So I get groped, and people are trying to kiss me, and it gets to the point where the nice stuff isn't worth the hassle. So... I was hoping that if I had a six-foot-four, big bulky guy with me, they might think twice,' said Annabelle.

'Six-five, but that makes sense, yeah, I can do that,' said Ron.

'That's great, that's amazing. How much would you want for that? It will be about an hour and a half, maybe two hours?' asked Annabelle.

'Shut up, just get me a couple of whiskies. Why do you want to keep that secret?' said Ron.

'I'm embarrassed. None of the girls would judge me for all the stuff I do for money, but if they saw me doing really filthy stuff for free, they probably would do,' said Annabelle.

'Jesus, what are you going to be doing in this club?' asked Ron.

'I've got a particular thing that I'm into,' said Annabelle.

***

It was such a nice evening that Ron suggested they walk to the flat. He carried a sports bag with Annabelle's clothes and sex toys in. Drivers were beeping their horns at Annabelle, trying to get her attention. Annabelle wore calf length boots under her skirt, and a low-cut top.

At the flat, she went into the bedroom. Ron paused in the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Annabelle came into the kitchen. She'd taken off everything except the calf length, brown leather boots.

'Does this look alright? I might just stay like this,' said Annabelle.

'You look amazing,' said Ron.

Annabelle got a text from Katie. The customers were going to be ten minutes late. They sat in the kitchen and waited.

'So, what's this thing you're into?' asked Ron.

'What are

you

into? I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours,' said Annabelle.

'I'm pretty boring, really,' said Ron.

'I bet if I asked Emma, she could tell me some stuff,' said Annabelle. She smiled mischievously. Ron felt embarrassed.

'She'll probably tell you I'm boring. So what is this thing you're into, how bad is it?' asked Ron.

'Well, we've all got things we like, haven't we? Vicky's got a weakness for anal, Katie's into young girls, Emma likes people pissing in her mouth. Marie likes being fucked and used. My thing is oral. That's why I go to this club,' said Annabelle.

'Giving or taking?' asked Ron.

'Giving,' said Annabelle.

'Men or women?' asked Ron.

The buzzer went.

Annabelle went and pulled on her gown in the bedroom. Ron went to the observation room. Annabelle came into the bedroom first. She'd discarded her gown between the door and the bedroom; she was naked again, but for the boots. A man came in. He looked to be about late fifties. His hair was dark but was greying around the edges. Ron thought women would find the man attractive; there was a serious, determined look about him. He looked fit for his age. When his partner came in, Ron was surprised. Ron thought that his partner was very, very attractive indeed.

She had a

great

body. She was slim, and her body was like Caroline's in that it looked like she was genetically trim and attractive, without having to even work for it. Her waist was exceptionally slim and tight, and her torso tapered above it. Her breasts were relatively small, but they fit her frame well. She was well dressed, she wore boots of a similar length to Annabelle's, with a dark skirt above them. She wore a thin white jumper, which accentuated her deep tan. She was younger than the man, Ron thought, she looked early thirties. Facially, he thought the woman was out of this world, stunningly beautiful. She was one of the prettiest women he'd seen in his life.

She looked shy to Ron, and nervous. The man wasn't nervous. He offered Annabelle an envelope. She told them they must take a nice shower.

When they went into the bathroom, Annabelle came around to the obs room. She was counting the money as she came in. She put the money back in the envelope and handed it to Ron without saying anything. She went over to the other mirror and Ron followed her. They were both in the shower. The man was quickly washing the woman. She kept her hair and face out of the stream from the shower. He seemed to hold and move her body like she was an object, like a possession. Annabelle seemed to sway in front of Ron, and he realised she was touching her vagina as she watched them.

'Ok, go on,' the man said, when he'd finished washing her. He spoke curtly. His tone was like a teacher talking to a naughty child. He sounded as posh as Annabelle.

'Is she an escort?' Ron whispered to Annabelle.

'No, Katie said it's his wife,' said Annabelle.

'Lucky man,' said Ron.

'I want to eat her cunt. Do you want to watch me eat her cunt?' asked Annabelle.

'Yes,' whispered Ron.

The wife finished towelling herself dry. She went to put a towel around herself...

'No. Don't do that, just go and wait. Go and lay on the bed,' said the man. He used the same tone, talking down to her curtly. She did as she was told.

Annabelle turned and came past Ron. She deliberately brushed herself up against him as she did. He felt her breast, her arm and her hip against him. He knew she was aroused.

He went back to the other two-way mirror. The woman was on the bed. Ron thought she was gorgeous. Annabelle walked into the bedroom. She didn't say a word, she got onto the bed. She lifted the woman's legs apart and put her face in her vagina. She licked the woman's vagina. After a short time, she reached up with her right hand and fondled the woman's breast. She looked up at her face briefly, before closing her eyes.

The woman looked down at Annabelle. When he saw her eyes flick worriedly to the side, he knew the man had come out. He stood naked in the doorway and watched Annabelle lick his wife's vagina. Ron thought he looked like a cheetah watching two stray gazelles.

His wife started to moan. She closed her eyes and started to shift her hips to grind her vagina against Annabelle's mouth.

'Ok. Is it Annabelle?' said the man. Annabelle turned away from his wife's vagina.

'Yes?' she said, smiling sweetly at him. She had a curious expression, she seemed surprised that he had interrupted them.

'Ok, come away, and I want you to lay on your back next to Rachael, on that side,' said the man. He talked to Annabelle the way he had talked to Rachael, his wife. Annabelle looked surprised and bemused, but she did what she was told.

'Put your hands behind your head,' the man said to Annabelle. Again, he was curt, commanding. Annabelle did what she was told. She looked quizzically across at Rachael, as if to say, is he always like this? Rachael didn't look back at her.

'Get on all fours,' he said to his wife. Rachael obeyed.

He penetrated her anally. He did it quickly and forcefully. Rachael inhaled very sharply as his penis went into her. He sodomised his wife hard. He held onto her hair as he did. Rachael didn't make a sound. Her facial expression was neutral. They both breathed heavily as they went about their business, Ron could hear their breathing. The man took his penis out of Rachael's anus.

'Turn around,' he commanded.

Rachael turned her body so that she was on all fours, facing him. He held her face and put his penis into her mouth. He hadn't worn a condom when he'd sodomised her. She took his penis deeply into her mouth and fellated him. He ejaculated into her mouth. She looked up at him. She looked worried; Ron thought she wanted to know if she'd pleased him.

'Go and spit it into the toilet,' he commanded. She went to the bathroom.

'Annabelle, open your legs,' he said. Annabelle didn't look at him, she opened her legs. She lay there, with her legs open, her hands behind her head. Ron felt aroused, seeing her like that. The man sucked on Annabelle's nipples before licking her vagina. Annabelle smiled down at him as he did.

'Don't look at me, close your eyes,' he said. She closed her eyes. He stopped licking her. He moved his body up the bed. He raised his hips forward, presenting his groin to Annabelle. Rachael came back out. He firmly pointed to the spot next to Annabelle on the bed. Rachael got on the bed.

'Play with me, wank me off, he said to Annabelle.

Annabelle started to work on his flaccid penis with her hands. She cupped his testicles and pulled gently at his penis.

'Suck it,' he said. Annabelle had to change the position of her body. She got onto her side and took his penis in her mouth. She had to cup his testicles with her other hand. He looked down at her like he was looking at a dog that that had defecated in the house.

Annabelle seemed to suck his penis for a long time. There was no noise, no one said anything. He kept looking down at Annabelle like that. Annabelle would suck on his penis with her eyes closed for a spell, then open them to look up at him. She had the same look in her eyes as Rachael, like she was anxious, worried that she wasn't pleasing him enough.

'Stop. Right, get on all fours, quickly. I need a condom,' he said.

'In the box, on the chest,' said Annabelle, looking back over her shoulder and pointing.

'He got a condom and put it on himself. He looked around the room, presumably for a bin. He placed the wrapper on the chest carefully so that no lube from it wouldn't get on to the wood. As he went back to the bed, Annabelle, who was on all fours on the bed, wiggled her rear.

'No, don't do that, stay still,' he said.

'Sorry,' said Annabelle. She said it quickly, sincerely.

Ron remembered. He knew he had come across someone who's manner was just like this man, and now he remembered. Ron had been a lowly Guardsman; he'd just joined his regiment. His company commander, a major, had spoken to them exactly like this man was talking to his wife and to Annabelle. Ron thought the major had talked to his men like that because he assumed that they were scum, that they couldn't be trusted, and that if he gave them one inch, they would take a yard.

The man penetrated Annabelle like he'd penetrated his wife, quickly and violently. Annabelle gave a little cry as he did. He grabbed a handful of her blonde hair and held onto it as he sodomised her hard. Annabelle emitted soft, high pitched whimpers as he went into her. He managed to look both contemptuous and determined as he took her. He didn't look at Annabelle, he seemed to be focusing on the top of the headboard in front of him.

Annabelle came. Shortly afterwards, she came again.

'Do you like that? Do you like being fucked hard?' he asked her.

'I love it,' Annabelle replied. The way she said it struck Ron. It came out high pitched and breathless. There was something in the tone of her voice, it sounded

desperate.

Annabelle came again before he did. He came, grunting, his teeth clenched. His thrusts were more violent as he came, and Annabelle's body was jerked forward hard. When he got off of her she flopped down onto her side. She looked up at him. She looked worried. Her expression said: was I good enough?

He made Rachael lick Annabelle's vagina. He had Annabelle lay on her back with her legs open, her hands behind her head. He masturbated himself. When Annabelle took her left hand away from her head to stroke Rachael's hair, he sternly told her to put her hand back behind her head. She looked scared when he said it and apologised again. She quickly put her hand back.