The Last Post 2

[Authors note: This is longer than my previous stories, but it is complete. Let me know what you think of this format in the comments.]

Episode 1 - Could I stand a quiet life?

My story starts when I took early retirement early from an international investment bank. Regulation and new technology had taken the joy out of what should have been a people job, so I called it a day. Our two grown-up sons were working abroad and having too much fun to get married, so without family ties to bind us, we left London and moved to a tiny village near the Dorset coast. The location was perfect; about forty chocolate box cottages and houses in the lanes around the village green. We boasted two pubs, the village hall, a church, and the post office/convenience store. It was the last of these that changed my life.

After unpacking for a few days, we'd run out of food. We planned to go out the day before, but having got the bedroom sorted my wife Janice surprised me by suggesting we christen the bed. I usually instigated sex, but the move seemed to recharge her batteries. When she said, "David, fuck me at the end of the bed," who was I to say no? I'd forgotten how good sex with Janice still was. My wife is five foot four, blond, petite, with boobs that look too big for her body, but are all natural. When we met thirty years ago, I could not get enough of her, but time dulls the passions and I am easily distracted.

My work took me abroad often, and I confess curiosity led me to sample hookers from most countries I'd visited. Some people seek out the local cuisine for cultural comparisons; my appetites were more carnal. I took precautions and convinced myself it was just a safe way to stimulate a jaded appetite; rather than follow the example of colleagues who had taken up office romances with disastrous consequences. Perhaps with Janice rejuvenated, I would not miss my hobby.

I woke on Sunday morning to find Janice's hand on my cock, from which she'd coaxed a sizable erection. "I wondered when you would join us?" she said. Before I could answer, she swung a leg across and enveloped me in her warm wetness. Her messed up blond hair gave her a just fucked look I love, and her tits swung enticingly as she pushed on my chest to lever herself up and down for longer strokes. I could not remember a more pleasant start to a Sunday. If I'd known this was what retirement had in store, I would have don't it years ago.

"What's got into you darling?" I said as I snaked my hand between her thighs to rub her clit.

"Are you complaining?" she stopped mid-stroke, gripping just the head of my cock in her lips. The feeling was exquisite. I shook my head and grabbed her shoulders, and impaled her. Janice smiled, "Must be the sea air. Besides, there are only the two of us now, David, no overseas trips to distract you."

That one caught me in the ribs. "I don't know what you mean," I dissembled. My mind raced, wondering if I'd been talking in my sleep all these years. Janice went to dismount. I threw in my losing hand. "No, please. Janice I never meant to... I was away from home too often. The temptation was too much." A poor excuse, but an honest one.

Janice smiled, pleased I would not treat her like an idiot. "I know David. You were on your own a lot, even when you were here. Mum's lengthy illness was a big distraction for me. We seemed to be marking time rather than living. Maybe it was just one of those things.''

I could not believe she'd be so understanding. "Janice that's all over now, I'm sorry. I'm not going anywhere. You know I still love you." I sat up and put my arms around her waist and kissed my wife.

Janice looked into my frightened eyes before she ruffled my hair. "I know and I love you too, David. That is why I can forgive you."

I had such an outpouring of love for my wife at that moment. I twisted her around and put her back on the mattress and fucked her as if my life depended on it. Afterwards, I looked at her with questioning eyes.

"You won't clear the slate with one fuck, good as it was. You have a lot of making up to do," Janice said.

"I will do. I owe you big time Janice," I promised. I did not know then clearing the slate would involve other people.

*

I lay in bed while Janice had a shower and I watched her get dressed. She was going to the village shop for supplies. Janice put on pale blue cotton knickers, a matching bra and a little sun dress. She bent over a box to look for her cork wedge sandals and I could see her knickers. My cock was up again. She slipped her shoes on and turned to leave the room. "Hurry back," I said. When she looked puzzled, I opened the duvet to show the hard on I was sporting.

Janice laughed. "You've made me sore; you'll have to see to yourself." She skipped out of the room before I could grab her.

"Or you could, before you go out," I shouted as she closed the front door. I don't know what had happened to Janice, but I was not the only one to notice it.

Her ten-minute trip to the shop lasted a couple of hours and she came back laden with things we'd never use. Janice was full of life. "I got talking to some of our new neighbours and the shop keeper Jack, he's a lovely man. His wife passed away a couple of years ago, she had the same thing as mum."

"You've been gone ages. I was going to send out a search party."

"Have I? I guess it was all that talking to Jack. He seemed grateful to speak about his wife's illness with someone who knew what it was like. That cancer is hard to deal with."

I looked at her purchases. "I think your new soul mate has the gift of the gab. When are we going to use half this stuff?" It seemed she'd bought one of everything in the shop.

"David, you sound jealous. Jack is a mature gentleman. He must have at least ten years on you, more likely fifteen."

"All the same, he's got a pulse and look what you've done to mine." I pulled down the front of my jogging trousers and my erection sprang to life. I put her hand on it.

Janice tutted. "Do I have to do everything around here now, David?" She wanked me teasingly.

"Yes, madam," I replied in my best bank manager voice.

Janice went down on her haunches, making eye level contact with my cock. "What's the matter, little one, are you jealous of the shopkeeper?"

For a fleeting second, I had an image of a man with his trousers down, apron up, shagging Janice face down across his counter. Fear and excitement made my cock lurch, and Janice saw it.

Janice looked up at me slyly. "I think we've struck a nerve."

She teased the tip on my cock with her tongue until I was begging her to put it in her mouth; the feeling was exquisite, but I had to be in my wife as soon as possible. I eased her head away.

"I need to fuck you now, Janice." I took the two bags of shopping off the kitchen table and backed her towards it.

"What here on the kitchen table?"

I nodded and pushed her down. I lifted her legs and the skirt of her sundress fell back. The crotch of her pale blue panties was wet and transparent. What we had been doing was enough to cause that, but my irrational fear was my wife was full of another man's cum. I pulled her panties down, snagging them on the heels of her sandals, and spread her legs wide so her puffy lips opened to greet me. The juices were running free, and I was relieved they were only hers. I lapped at her like a man with an unquenchable thirst. Janice squirmed about, grabbed the back of my head and ground my face to her cunt as her orgasm approached. With two fingers inside her, I searched for her G-spot and found it. Janice said, "Mumm. You fucker David, make me cum." Janice was not one for coarse language, which made her loss of control even more exciting. A little more action from my tongue and fingers and Janice was coming against my face. "David, you fucker, you dirty, dirty fucker."

This was too much for me. I pulled my head away and took my swollen cock in my hand. It was as hard as a rock and oozing pre cum. I beat the underside of it against her sensitive clit, making lovely wet sounds. Janice's legs wiggled in response. "Stop teasing me, David." She pushed my hand away, grabbed my cock, and fed it into her warm wetness. She spasmed again, and I was not far behind. I managed half a dozen strokes before spewing into her. My hips shook like I had St Vitus' dance and I had to grip the table to support my weak legs.

Afterwards, we were a frozen tableau. Me with aching arms and Janice with legs wrapped around my waist. She smiled up at me. "We never fucked like that, even when we were courting. You've learned new moves."

I thought for a moment. Neither of us had much experience when we met thirty years ago, but my travels abroad broadened my horizons from meeting girls who would try anything for a price. I guess I was nervous about bringing those lessons home and making Janice suspicious where I'd learned them. I did not want to lie anymore. "Thank you, darling. No more lying, right? We knew nothing when we got married. But over the years, I've learned some things that would make your hair curl. If you are interested, that is?"

"I've always wanted curly hair, David."

I put her arms around my neck and my hands under her arse and lifted her. We made it up three steps before my legs gave out.

"Easy, David. When I said you had a lot of making up to do, I did not mean all in one day. I don't want to be a horny widow."

We walked up the rest of the stairs and flopped on to our bed. The next thing I remember was church bells ringing. I looked at my watch. "What time do they think this is?" I complained, noticing it was 6.30 pm.

"It's evensong, you heathen," Janice replied sleepily.

I worked it out in my sleep. My relief at confessing to Janice without causing a massive bust up, released feelings I'd sat on for years. Guilty about my betrayal, I seized on the figure of the friendly grocer making advances towards my wife as the punishment I deserved. The fantasy and the fear made me, 'put in a good shift at the crease,' as some of my cricket buddies liked to describe their clandestine couplings. If this fantasy kept me on the straight and narrow, what harm could it do? It's all good, isn't it? That's what I thought before I met Jack.

Episode 2 - Revenge is sweet

I'd planned to satisfy my curiosity about Jack by visiting the shop on Monday morning, but around 10 am my mobile phone rang.

"David, how's retirement suiting you?" It was Brad Channing, the American brought in by the banks US owners to run the international office out of the UK. His agenda from the outset was to put his stooges in. It took him two years to get me out. He was the last person I expected to call.

"Well Brad, as I'm not even halfway through my first day of official retirement, I can't say. Call me in three months and I'll let you know." Whatever he was after, I would not make it easy. I imagined him grinding his teeth.

"David, the thing is, we could use your help to put the finishing touches on a deal. A couple of days' work at the most. Are you interested?" He tried to make the offer seem casual.

I knew it was something more serious as I was the last person he would ask for help if he could avoid it. I made him beg. "Can't your man Carter handle it? I mean, you've put him in my seat."

I heard him draw breath. He knew I had no reason to put myself out. "Jim's a good man, but we could do with your expertise to finesse a situation. I know you could allay the Estonians concerns with their finance package." The confidence drained out of Channing's voice as he explained the balls up.

"That's interesting, Brad. My expertise was an obstacle a year ago, what's changed?"

Channing sighed, realising he would have to confess before I got on board. "Things were going well when you handed over to Jim and the Estonians were happy with the deal."

I knew there was a but coming. "It was just waiting for rubber stamping, Brad. That's why I thought you moved me off it, so you could claim a win for the new regime."

Channing made an awkward throat clearing noise on the other end of the line. "Unfortunately, Jim thought he could squeeze them for a few more points and the entire thing unravelled." Channing played his last card. "The bottom line is they don't trust us without you involved."

I left him hanging for a few moments, enjoying how uncomfortable he must be feeling.

"Well, that is sad news, Brad. I have a lot of history with the Estonians. I would hate to see them loose out because of a simple misunderstanding. But I can't come back and front up for the bank. Not if Jim Carter is still running the deal."

"I thought about that, David. Your best role would be as an impartial party trying to bring the two sides together. A bit of diplomacy Henry Kissinger style. You know, both sides are in different rooms and you shuttling between them until there is enough common ground for a face-to-face. Then it is all smiles and handshakes."

I liked the idea, and the thought of seeing Channing and Carter eating humble pie was enough for me to accept. "I can give you until Friday, and you pay my expenses. Okay, Brad?" What was he going to say? At 2pm Janice was pecking me on the cheek and waving me off on the London train.

They'd moved me off site to the Reading office for my last six months, so it was strange to be back in the City again. The hustle and bustle of Docklands, that eternal building site, was quite a contrast to my new rural surroundings in Dorset. I missed its energy. I had grown up with it. Big Bang, Deregulation, privatisation, property speculation, fall of the Russian empire, the New Europe. That was my soundtrack. It was good to hear it again.

If they wanted British diplomacy, I was ready to give it to them. I'd dressed for the occasion. My bespoke navy-blue Chester Barrie suit with picked edge stitching and French Blue silk lining was just the part. Too flash for the Reading gulag, but just right for today. The handmade Lobb loafers were guaranteed to draw envious glances from the preppy Princeton old boy regime Channing installed. One day I'd confess to Janice how much all this gear cost me.

In the reception of our thirty-storey temple to Mammon, guess who'd come down to greet me? None other than Jim Carter, trying to put his spin on the situation.

"Glad you could spare the time, David. Just a formality." He was trying to play it cool, but the sweat on his nose said otherwise. I waited until we were in the executive lift before I replied.

"Really, that's not the way Brad Channing sees it. He says you tried to stiff them for a few more points and now the deal is in pieces. I'm back home to retirement on Friday, deal or no deal. What are your plans for next week, Jim?"

We rode twenty floors in silence before he answered. "Okay. I admit I was wrong to change things when you had an understanding with them, David. But we are in an ego-driven business. How would it look if I was just your bag carrier?"

And there was the problem in a nutshell. There was a time when banking was not an ego-driven business, but that was many bonuses ago. The lift opened on the international banking floor and I stepped into familiar surroundings. A huge open plan barn with full-length plate-glass windows. Expensive blonde Danish office furniture and chairs that cost more than my first car. Lots of fresh faces, but still many I remembered from when I was more or less a permanent fixture here. I acknowledged a few greetings as we walked through the office towards Brad Channing's door. You could see the puzzled look on people's faces. I leaned over to Jim's ear so no one could hear me and said, "You know, last time I took these steps I was the dead man walking." Jim rewarded me with a gratifying look of terror.

Brad posed at his window as we entered, gazing at people scurrying like ants from the DLR across the footbridges. His smile and handshake were warm. "Thanks for doing this, David. I know there must have been a voice in your head that said screw them." We sat at his meeting table.

"No problem, Brad. I don't want to let the Estonians down." Neither of them missed my barb. Channing deflected it with a smile. "The Estonians fly in tomorrow morning and we meet here at 10am for a review. I thought we could use the rest of the day to bring you up to date on how things have changed since you were last involved and run through some options to get us back on track."

It was 9pm before I slumped onto my bed at the Churchill. My head was still buzzing from the financial analysis and complicated plays my former colleagues were suggesting. I phoned Janice and told her my woes, but she saw through it.

"You love all the wheeler dealing David, and you love getting your own back on those two who treated you so badly. It's just big boy's games."

Janice was never impressed by the high finance end of banking. I laughed at her accurate assessment of the situation, before having a stab at initiating phone sex. My 'what are you wearing, darling?' opening question received a frosty answer. "I'm in bed wearing woolly pyjamas and two pairs of socks because my husband can't work the new central heating timer." I quit while I was behind.

Next morning there were eight people in the Estonian negotiating team, six men and two women, one of whom was Jaana. We smiled at each other with our eyes before the formal greetings.

Brad Channing outlined the format of the talks and my role and invited the Estonians to respond to Bank's latest offer before we got to work on making a new deal. The chairman of their side was a wily old man. He explained how our latest funding package was much less favourable than the one I offered a year before; or compared to similar unsolicited offers they'd received from interested parties who'd heard about our difficulties in coming to terms. They'd been shopping around. From the glances Channing and Carter exchanged, I knew it was not all bluff.

It took an hour for the Estonians to outline their objections and their counter proposal. We adjourned for coffee and I caught Janna's eyes. We discretely left the meeting room, and she followed me to the service elevator. I was pleased the authorisation code had not changed, and I ushered her in and pressed up. Inside, she hugged me and we kissed. No longer lovers' kisses, full of passion and longing, but kisses between two people who still meant something to each other. We were still easy in each other's embrace.

I brushed a strand of hair from her face, like I'd done on countless mornings. "I was surprised to see you this morning, Jaana."

"I have a new job in the Ministry of Finance on international credit. I said I knew your bank and that might assist the renegotiations. It's good to see you too, David. You look much happier than the last time we met." She held my face in her hands.

"They were pushing me out, Jaana. I came to say goodbye." The lift arrived at the roof. Another security door gave access to the outside. There was only a window cleaners cradle the first time I came up here. Now it was full of telecoms dishes and we had to follow the marked path to the observation area. "The roof is off limits now because people jumped during the last banking crisis. This is the view I was telling you about all those years ago." London was like a toy city hundreds of feet below. We did a full 360 and in the good visibility we could see at least twenty miles in every direction.

"It's marvellous, David. Just as I imagined." She took her phone out, and I took pictures of her with various landmarks in the background. I hammed it up as a camp photographer, and she posed as provocatively as a woman dressed in a business suit on a chilly day could. We laughed, and I saw the eighteen-year-old I met so long ago. Her refinement had taken nothing away from the warm-hearted girl I had loved. She took a selfie of the two of us and sent it to my phone, then we made our way back to the lift.