Chapter 13

Most of the 'paying guests' were much more reasonable than Shelley had been. Typically, for women, they (a) wanted to make sure that we would be totally discreet, never mentioning that they'd been here, and (b) wanted full details about my other 'clients'. At least one of them was an undercover journalist - I found that out when her recorder dropped out of her bag.

I talked it over with my family, and we decided that if the tabloid newspapers wanted to pay me a thousand pounds a fuck for no information at all, we were more than willing to take it.

The laboratory work was going well. We had identified the difference between us 'specials' and other men. It lay in the acrosome - the little chunk at the head of the sperm, which contains enzymes to digest their way through the egg cell wall. Our enzymes turned out to be a slightly different mix from everybody else's. And this was the crucial factor. Most men's acrosome enzymes, when absorbed by the purple nodules, 'stunned' them for a while, knocking out the mechanisms which produced the irritants. With our slightly-different enzymes, the effect was permanent - a 'kill', rather than a 'stun'.

Our group had won that part of the scientific race, but the next part could be much harder. We had to do some very delicate gene-splicing to try to produce a bacterium which would produce the right mix of enzymes in large enough quantities. Whoever reached this stage first would be able to breed the bacteria by the million, and mass-produce a cure.

The really important cures, however, I kept quiet about. Sue and Jill had gone back for their repeated smear tests, which had turned out to be negative. No abnormal cells! The specialist was puzzled, but decided that it was probably the earlier test which had been wrong. "We're getting a lot of those lately," he said. "I'll have to give our lab people a bit of a shake-up. It's not right, scaring people like that. But we'll have to have you in again in three months, for another checkup."

The girls assured him that they hadn't been scared, not one bit. But scared or not, we celebrated big-time that night! We told Frank, and he was indignant that we'd kept it from him at first, but admitted that he was glad he'd been spared the worry. The girls still had their final checkup hurdle to get over, but they weren't too worried about it.

Meanwhile, I was still in demand for other purposes. It was a busy, interesting life, spoiled only by the fact that I could only make love to my wives on Sundays. I'd be quite glad, I thought, when it was all over, and I could go back to being husband and scientist, rather than scientist/stud.

A few weeks into the routine, and it was becoming a way of life. After a couple of months, it could be downright dull at times. Who'd have believed it? That unlimited sex could become dull, dull, DULL. By now, of course, most women were quite practised at energetic sex, and willing to show off their skills. Now and again, I learned something new, and practised it with Sue and Jill when I could.

And there were always a few non-standard ones, where it was the situation rather than the sex which was interesting.

"Who have you lined up for me this week, Sue?"

"An unusual one tomorrow. A Mrs Smith - though that's probably an alias. It was a man who arranged it. Presumably her husband or boyfriend. She wants to come here at 7pm, and stay until you've managed a double. She wants the complete cure in one session. And she expects to find just you in the house - we're to clear out."

"She doesn't want to go away and come back later?"

"No. I think she's worried about being recognised, or being followed, and figures that a single here-and-back journey will be safer than two."

"You've explained that we can't be sure how long the second will take?"

"I have. But that's the way she wants it. Doesn't want to socialise, though. Her husband says she'll bring a book and some paperwork, and wait it out for as long as necessary."

The following morning, I got my 'charity fuck' out of the way early, to be reasonably fresh for the cash customer that evening. Then did my day's work, and headed home, pleasantly intrigued by the mystery client.

Just before seven, the telephone rang.

"Mrs Smith will be at the door in five minutes," a male voice said. "Please be ready to let her in immediately."

Five minutes later, I was standing by the door as a car pulled into the drive. Two people emerged and came straight in. The car swiftly pulled away and disappeared down the road. I closed the door and looked at my visitors. A tall, fit-looking male, with 'bodyguard' stamped all over him. He was carrying a small suitcase, which he put down as soon as he'd entered the room. To keep his hands free, I figured. I had to assume that the other was a woman, or there would have been no point in any of this. It certainly couldn't be verified, as she was wearing an arab-style yashmak - nothing visible but her eyes, and even those were in shadow.

"Good evening, Mrs Smith," I said. "And Mr Smith?"

The man smiled. "No - I'm not the lady's husband. Just a friend, helping to look after her."

In fact, I thought I recognised him. He hadn't given a name the last time we met, either. He'd been part of a party of visiting VIPs a few months ago, though clearly not a VIP or a scientist himself. He'd been watching the people, not the demonstrations. I'd put him down as police, probably part of their 'protection unit', who acted as bodyguard to VIPs. So, we had a VIP here, did we? With official approval, no less - Special Branch officers only worked under official orders.

"Well, sit down, both of you. Drinks?"

He asked for mineral water for the lady, tea for himself. I organised both, then the problems started. He insisted that she remain masked throughout the whole thing. She still hadn't spoken for herself.

I protested at this. "Look - I'm discreet. I won't tell anyone. I've had offers for my story - very big offers - and turned them all down. As I'm sure you've found out for yourself. And I'll continue to do so."

"I'm sorry, sir," said the bodyguard. "Those are the terms, and you must work to them."

"Well, I'm feeling ready now," I replied. "I can probably manage this one perfectly well. But two in an evening - well, I'm sure you know how it is. I need stimulation. And there's nothing stimulating about a woman in a yashmak. That's why muslim women wear them, after all - to stop men having impure thoughts. And impure thoughts is precisely what I'm trying to achieve."

The bodyguard looked at the lady, in some embarrassment. Clearly, he was trying to get some messages from those hooded eyes.

"Right then, sir. Let's take it one step at a time. Give my friend here the half of the cure that you can manage now, and we'll see how it goes later."

The three of us went upstairs, the guard carrying his suitcase. For a moment, I thought he was going to stay in the room with us, but he seemed to be just checking it over.

"I can assure you that there's no recording equipment in here," I snapped. "And the only weapon is the gun that you're carrying."

He blinked in surprise. Well, at least I'd 'unmasked' one of them. "That's fine, sir. I had to check. Now, I'll wait outside the door. I must ask you to turn the lights off before beginning, and keep them that way until the lady stands up."

He started to leave; she pulled on his arm and whispered urgently into his ear.

"Oh, yes. I'd forgotten. The lady asks that you administer the first cure... um... anally. She understands that the second might well take longer, and would prefer that this part of the cure be over with as quickly as possible."

He left, closing the door behind him. My mystery client laid face-down on the bed.

"Please get up again, miss," I said. "While your friend was giving orders, he didn't let me do any talking. Now, I understand that you want complete anonymity, and I'll try to give it to you. I'm not sure how well it's going to work out, but I'll try. However, there are a few things that you'd both be better off knowing now."

I called the policeman back into the room.

"When I'm finished," I said, "I'll walk out of the door, and across to the bathroom. The lady might prefer this one." I demonstrated the concealed doorway that led to the en-suite bathroom, and was rewarded with a rueful grin on the bodyguard's face. He hadn't thought to check for extra doors!

"When she's used the bathroom, there is another door leading from it to a study, with a desk and a couple of comfortable chairs. I suggest that you check out both rooms now, noting that the study door is locked, with the key on the inside."

He checked both rooms, more thoroughly than the situation really required. He'd been caught out once, and didn't want it to happen again. He carried the suitcase through to the study, leaving it on the desk. Presumably, it contained the 'paperwork' that she'd be looking at while waiting for me to recover.

"So," I continued. "After I've cleaned up, I'll go downstairs. You and the lady can go into the study, for as much privacy as you want. If you need anything, use the telephone. Any questions?"

The guard asked for a bottle of mineral water and some tea-making equipment to be put in the study. On my own initiative, I added some biscuits. Then, we took our positions again. The bodyguard, standing outside the door. My 'client', face-down on the bed. Me, standing beside the bed with a tube of KY at the ready.

I turned out the lights, and dropped my trousers. The strangeness of the situation had given me a pretty good hard-on, and I was confident that I'd be able to perform well. Finding the small woman on the very big bed in the dark proved more awkward than I'd thought - I'd become a little turned-around while getting out of my trousers. Eventually, I found her, and placed my hand on her small, rounded rump. I heard a sharp intake of breath, but she made no move. I lifted the hem of her garment, and raised it to the waist. Underneath, she was naked. A single touch on her inner thigh was sufficient signal to tell her to spread her legs apart; I gently applied the jelly to her anus, pushing first one, then two, fingers inside to make sure she was well lubricated within. A second application, to my cock, and I was ready. I mounted her, and took aim. She was well lubricated, sure enough, but very tight. Her anal sphincter fought against the intruder, and nearly pushed me back out.

"You have to relax," I told her. "If you don't, it will hurt. Or you'll push me right out, and the whole thing will have been useless. Do you want to stop?"

She shook her head, violently. I could tell that she was trying to relax, and I tried to help out with an internal massage with a couple of fingers. She was drying out rapidly, so I automatically put a finger into her cunt, to draw off some juices for extra ass-lubrication. She shuddered, and then lay still.

"Sorry, lady," I said. "This is as weird for me as it is for you!"

I got back to work. She was now much more relaxed, and I managed entry with no further problems. The situation had turned me on, much more than I'd realised, and I climaxed after no more than a half-dozen thrusts.

I climbed off the bed, and groped for my trousers in the dark. I'd just managed to put them back on, and was still adjusting them, when she stood up. I turned on the light and left the room.

Downstairs, I watched some TV, and 'waited for something to come up'. It didn't. I rang Sue, who was having a night in a hotel with Jill and Frank. I told her my problem, and suggested that she 'talk dirty' to me. She did, but I can't say it really helped.

At midnight, the telephone rang. "Are you going to be much longer?" The bodyguard again.