PREFACE
This is my fifth story in the sextet. There are two plots running in parallel, I tried to slim one down, but lost the balance. So, if it's a bit of a drag, sorry.
All characters over 18, etc.
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On Sunday morning Laura McAndrew settled her new, silver, Porsche Cayman into the middle lane of the A1(M) and headed North from London. She did not look forward to the coming week, as she would be obliged to forgo sex of any description, and it would be a rare break.
Laura enjoyed sex, of any variation, on a regular basis and every now and again she descended into total debauchery. But for one week she would be totally celibate, after all she would be with family and unable to satisfy even the simplest desire.
She was 28 years old, and blessed with classical good looks, five feet seven and 150 pounds of toned muscle, with long slim legs and a pair of jutting breasts that hardly need a bra. Her honey blond hair fell to her shoulders in a fashionable cut, thanks to her weekly visit to the celebrity hairdresser. She had intense blue eyes above a straight nose and perfect white teeth. Maintenance didn't come cheap, but she could afford the best.
Laura was an academic star at school, and won a scholarship to Oxford, where her first in mathematics and accountancy resulted in job offers pouring in from the financial sector. Her starting salary at the well-known global consultancy made her father's eyes water, it was twice what he was earning as a local solicitor after thirty years in practice. But after two years she was headhunted by WBK, the Swiss based financial behemoth to be a senior accountant in their London office on twice the money. And at the very young age of 28 she was now the deputy financial controller, reporting to the financial director. Her salary of quarter of a million was topped up by generous profit related bonuses. Some of the last bonus was spent on the Porsche, the balance was added to her 'rainy day' fund in Tortola. Life was good.
But it was going to be a dry sex week ahead. Last Tuesday she had spent the night with Serita, a ravishing Moroccan fashion model. They had been lovers for a few weeks, and she had introduced Laura to some innovative sexual ideas that had her in raptures. Last Thursday she was with her regular fuck buddy, Pablo. Pablo was from Miami, and a corporate lawyer with a big US insurance company. He was sexually insatiable and had a long thick cock that never seemed to deflate. And he was also partial to a bit of discrete debauchery. They recently spent a few days on a sunshine break in The Bahamas, together with his little sister Ramona. On the first afternoon they all lay on the big hotel bed with the windows open and the warm breeze stirring the curtains. Laura watched as Pablo repeatedly thrust his stiff, glistening cock into Ramona's tight little body and stroked her to a shuddering orgasm whilst Laura played with her own sopping vagina. She liked watching. Then Pablo moved across and slid his still erect tool into her clenching muscles and it was his sister's turn to watch as they thrashed together for several minutes until Laura also came to a squealing climax. But Pablo was not done, so the two women gave him a tandem tonguing until his semen burst all over the trio. They did little else for the whole of the four days.
Both Sereta and Pablo wanted to introduce Laura to their friends, but she always declined. She was very careful with her private life, any rumours of her proclivities would find their way to her superiors, giving them a lever to be used against her. Office politics can be very cruel, and she valued her job and benefits.
So, as the little Porsche continued to hum along, her thoughts turned to her destination, the family home in a quiet village in Nottinghamshire. It was well over a year since her last visit, contact was by phone with her mother, and by email to her younger brother and sister. In truth she hardly knew them, Ashley was 19 and Rachel 18, so when she had left for Oxford ten years ago, they were still at junior school. Now they both went to the local University, Ashley finishing his first year studying electronics, and Rachel just starting to study history. But both their studies were being interrupted as there was a virulent infection sweeping the campus, so courses were being taken online for a few weeks.
Laura had taken a panic call from her mother the previous morning - Saturday - her father had broken his leg on the Friday night. He was messing about in his workshop with his old Norton motorcycle when it fell off its stand and trapped him. He is 75, as is grandmother, and she is not very well, but she had the presence of mind to call for help from the friendly neighbours, who promptly called an ambulance. He was whisked off to hospital, only worried about the state of the old bike, and the kind neighbours spent the night with grandmother. He would be discharged, complete with plaster cast, on the Sunday but Mum and Dad wanted to go up to Northumberland to stay with them for a week. Mum was worried about the two siblings being left alone, for some reason.
Laura was being forced to work from her flat in London, as her office was being closed for several days. A new mainframe computer was being installed, together a powerful server and all the cabling, so she and her small team were working remotely, using the big mainframe in Zurich when needed. So, she promptly volunteered to drive up and work from her parents' house instead of her cramped if expensive apartment. It would be a change of scenery, and a chance to mix with her two younger siblings, who she didn't really know at all. But there would be no sex until she returned to London. Pablo and Sereta would have to wait.
The parents set off for the Northeast early on Sunday morning, and Ashley and Rachel awaited the arrival of their elder sister with some excitement. They hadn't seen her for a long time and didn't know what to expect. Laura had emailed to explain that she needed workspace, so Ashley set to and cleared the spare bedroom, bringing in a table and a couple of chairs, together with extension cables and a desk lamp. Rachel brought in some fresh flowers, and they had a good tidy round. Laura would use their parent's bedroom and ensuite during her stay.
Passing Stamford on the A1, Laura's mind turned to work. She had a brilliant, analytical mind and could sort problems into logical order. Much of her work involved 'care and maintenance', but she had been given a specific task by the CEO in London. Hugh Ponsford. She liked Hugh, he was old school, in his early sixties and had been with WBK for thirty years and was highly respected in the city. Hugh had given her the task of suggesting improvements to the complex banking structure within the commodities division. They traded across forty countries and scores of currencies; it was a tangle of programs and protocols. But her immediate superior, the finance director Rupert Watson-Clark was unhappy that she had been instructed without his input and he tried to block it. Laura was aware of the conflict, but got on with the task, although always careful to copy Rupert in with her reports.
Last Friday morning she had unearthed an anomaly, using the London mainframe before it was taken out of service. A search threw up some unexplained, small, transactions. Only a couple hundred thousand dollars, and to WBK that was almost a rounding error. What made them stand out was that the IBAN (International Bank Account Number) string was the same bank that she used for her hideaway money in Tortola, albeit a different account. She made a note but was unable to progress further until she was back in a functioning office.
Office protocol was that she should flag this up with Rupert, but he had already left for the weekend. His daughters were ambitious showjumpers, and there was a big event in the West Country. Hugh's wife was from the minor aristocracy, and they lived a high life. Laura found him to be a bit of a creep, often staring at her figure, although she dressed very conservatively in the office. At the end of Friday, she printed her weekly report on the banking update, walked across the office and handed a copy to the CEO's secretary, Matilda. Rupert's secretary was missing along with her boss, so she walked into their empty office and placed the sealed envelope on his desk, although she already knew he would be shooting on Monday, and at bloodstock sales on Tuesday. Good life, she thought. His desk had been cleared, but she noticed some jottings on his large blotter. Ch34, Bu65, Ba19. She thought nothing of it. Her last action for the week was to walk across the road to the wine bar and buy a drink for any of her team who were within. There were just seven of them waiting, enjoying a snifter to end the week. She got on well with all of them, despite some being twice her age. There was the usual tittle tattle and gossip, and then one said to her:
"Has Rupert won the Lotto? I gather he is buying two more showjumpers next week for his girls"
Laura said all she knew about horses were that they ate hay and money, but the comment piqued her interest. When she got home that evening, she looked up the bloodstock agency, and indeed they had several horses up for sale next week, and the cheapest was two hundred thousand.
Rupert must have some rivets to buy a pair of those.
Out of curiosity she also looked up Rupert's daughters, and the society pages had plenty of images. Very pretty, expensively dressed and both looked good in tight riding breeches in the showjumping pictures. There was comment of them making the next Olympics squad.
Laura put this into the back of her mind as she approached the family home.
