Author's note: As always, you might enjoy this more if you read the first two Chapters first. I'm in great debt to my Editor, she knows who she is!
1.
John woke around six-thirty. He was nuzzled into Sarah and his cock was hard in her arsecrack. He licked her shoulder and moved his fingers on her soft nipples. She was sound asleep and he knew she needed her rest. He slipped from the bed and dressed as quietly as he could. Wrote a wee note and left the hotel. It was raining hard this morning: low-pressure weather, warm and close and thundery.
When he got home he showered vigorously, then sipped Darjeeling as he dressed. He knew that he and Sarah had had something pretty special online, but he had been traumatised to the base of his soul by the reality of being with her. His cock was red and tender from their unions, but it was hard again now as he thought of her. He really couldn't begin to try to imagine how their sex had been for her. But he knew she had been enormously pleasured by her experiences with him. He was glad he had been able to give her a grand adventure. His cock twitched at the thought of the day ahead.
He finished dressing and walked back to the tube station. He had no idea what the three women might want to do today: they hadn't discussed it. He suspected that, after yesterday, Sarah wouldn't be so interested in sex. But he needed her, a deep feral need. And she would give him what his body demanded.
But he knew too, as he surfaced from the Victoria Line that he had to give them all the best day he could.
It was eight am and the women were at breakfast when he entered the hotel dining-room.
Morning lassies, I hope you're all well? He ordered his breakfast and they chatted lightly. The forecast's a bit grim, he said. London gets wet thundery days in summer, and this looks like one of them I'm afraid. Probably an inside rather than an outside day?
Sarah was gazing directly into his eyes and he returned her look. She smiled broadly, and he smiled back, looking pointedly at her breasts. Then he glanced at Sue and Anne.
Umm, I guess I'm the expert here: You want me to make some suggestions?
The three women nodded.
Okay, its Galleries, Museums, and Ancient Monuments Day then, he smiled. And the insides thereof. And maybe some shopping, if you're up for that?
They nodded enthusiastically and he continued: I know Anne is particularly interested in interior design and I'd love to show her the William Morris Gallery. And the Liberty store. But how about you two, Sue and Sarah?
Umm, said Sue. Maybe we'd prefer something else? She looked at Sarah.
Why don't you just direct us to something interesting and go show Anne what she wants, Sarah said. She wasn't entirely happy about the idea of being away from him, but understood Anne's special interests and respected her old friend.
He gave Sarah and Sue precise directions to the Victoria & Albert Museum in South Kensington and then on to Harrod's. They agreed to meet up in Harrod's basement tearoom around one pm. Then the four headed for the tube and went their different ways.
Anne and he settled into the train for the long run out to Walthamstow. After a couple of stops they managed to find seats together and spoke companionably as he explained more about William Morris. Part of what drove his interest in honest natural design, John said, was that he was an early Socialist. A Marxist, in fact, when to hold such beliefs was deeply unfashionable in nineteenth-century London.
He recognised that Anne was a bit uncomfortable with this information about someone who had been a design icon for her, but it was the truth. John's mind wandered a little and he jerked back to the present as the train was entering Finsbury Park. Sorry Anne, I was just remembering something from a long time ago. Forgive me please?
She smiled at him: That's okay John. I was just trying to get my head round the fact, that someone I have always really admired was a Marxist!
Hey Anne, it's just a bit of history. And you've had a few famous Marxists in California. Angela Davis? Herbert Marcuse? Not to mention the film industry victims of McCarthyism?
Her brow furrowed: Yeah, I remember these names from when I was in college. I went on marches then. Vietnam, that stuff. She smiled at him. But I'm a pretty settled middle-class woman now John. Way past all that.
Eventually the train arrived at Walthamstow. It was quite a long walk to the Gallery, along a not-so-prepossessing suburban shopping street. Then they turned left onto a main road and there was the Gallery, a fine Georgian building set in parkland.
Anne gasped: John, what a beautiful building.
Wait till we get inside Anne. It was Morris's family home when he was growing up. This was on the edge of Epping Forest then, somewhere deeply rural, far from London.
They explored the rooms on two floors and he tried to explain what they were seeing. The progression of Morris's design work, in textiles, wallpaper, furniture, and book production. And the art of those who worked with and followed him: from Pre-Raphaelites to the Arts and Crafts Movement.
At the desk as they left, John bought Anne a copy of Morris's utopian novel, 'News from Nowhere'. I've read an awful lot of utopian novels, he laughed. But William Morris and Marge Piercy were the only ones to imagine worlds in which I might like to live.
Anne sighed deeply: Thank you so much for showing me this John. It helps me put so much in place. He obviously played a much larger part in the history of design than I had imagined. And, kissing him briefly on the cheek, thanks for the book. Now, shouldn't we be getting back to my friends? And -- she glanced querulously at him -- your lover?
He smiled into her eyes. Yes, Sarah is my lover, Anne.
It was pouring rain now and they caught a passing cab back to the tube station, then boarded a quiet train. She allowed her body to settle comfortably and press him a little as they rode: You know John; I'm getting to really like you? Please be good to Sarah. She deserves it.
2.
After a change of trains, they emerged and made it to Harrod's basement tearoom. And found the other women. Hi lassies, he shouted across the room: Hope you had a great morning?
The V&A was incredible, Sue said. And, added Sarah, so is Harrod's. Not that we've had time to see much. This store is just gigantic! So what does our afternoon hold for us John?
Mmm, depends entirely on what you want, he said. I thought maybe we should start at the beginning of the City, The Tower of London?
