Chapter 6

She woke to the sound of Elsie tapping on her door. She edged round the door with a breakfast tray. ' I thought you'd like breakfast in bed. It'll save you time. I know you've a lot of work today'

As Jane pushed herself into a sitting position, Elsie propped the hospital-style tray over her.

'Did you sleep well? As Jane her mouth full of marmaladed toast nodded, Elsie went on. ' I'm glad. I thought we might have kept you awake.' She giggled, 'I think dancing with you made George even more amorous than usual. I can hardly walk.'

Jane concentrated on cramming toast into her mouth to avoid saying anything, while her mind's eye filled with the image of George 's great cock penetrating Elsie's bottom.

' George's gone off to his office to work on his book He's seeing a client this afternoon so he wants to get something written before lunch. Listen, just have a shower when you're ready and get off when you like. If you don't mind, I think I'll go off shopping now. Just shut the door behind you.' She bent over and kissed the top of Jane's head and left.

Jane breathed a sigh of relief. Relief that she didn't have to face George; relief that she didn't have to play guessing games with Elsie, not knowing if George had spoken to her about her voyeurism last night.

'That's what it was', she reflected as she sipped her coffee, 'I'm a voyeur!'

Later, back home, fresh from a shower and in her usual working attire of top and jeans, she read George's note: the one he must have pushed through her letter box on the way to his office. She wondered when he'd found the time and privacy to write it.

She loved the beautiful italic handwriting, the symmetry of each letter. 'He must have taken ages to write so beautifully' she thought. The note was brief and was written on expensive notepaper headed with George's office address:

'Dear Jane,

I hope you got some sleep. You are probably rather confused this morning. I feel we might both benefit from a meeting. We can have that in my office this afternoon at two.

I look forward to seeing you then. Best to keep the arrangement confidential.

George.'

Jane's immediate response was one of anger at his presumption that she would just turn up at his command. But then she reasoned that at least it left her without the need to reply, or even to worry about what to do.

She made more strong coffee and got out her work.

George's office was a three-apartment basement flat complete with kitchen and bathroom, located in a very up-market part of town. Jane stood in a doorway across from it, her umbrella up to shield her from the rain and recognition by any one passing.

Despite the early Spring warmth she was shivering. She wished she had slept better. She wished... She struggled to control her thoughts. For the umpteenth time she questioned her decision to be here at all. She looked at her watch it was three minutes to two.

For fully fifteen minutes now she had been in this doorway watching the black iron railings, shaped like upright spears that barred the entrances to the three-storey early Victorian mansions. Watching, in particular, the heavy gate by which one entered to descend to George's apartment. In that time no-one had come or gone through it.

Again Jane looked at her watch. It was two o'clock exactly.

He opened the door almost instantly, at the first ring of the buzzer. She brushed past him breathlessly. She had had to run across the road and dive down the steps and press the buzzer - all without hesitation or thought, lest she change her mind.

Now she stood before him, recovering her breath, her heart in her dry throat, as he took her umbrella and gazed at her. He wore a loose silk shirt and wide olive-green trousers that ended at his calves and she noticed how brown his legs were with fine black hairs. His feet were bare and she thought how shapely they were compared with Tom's, which she had always thought rather ugly and plebeian.

' Come into the fire, Jane.' His voice broke her reverie, 'I'm so pleased you came.'

He ushered her through the inner glass door into a short wide hall with a couple of doors opening off. Prints adorned the walls. It was warm and welcoming. George stood close behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. 'I'll take your coat', he said.

As he eased it over her shoulders she was very aware of his hands through the thin fabric of her blouse. Very conscious of his body so close to her. She suppressed a desire to lean back and make contact with him. her heart began to race. She felt her breasts tighten and her nipples harden as his hands slipped along her upper arms, sliding the coat off them.

The room they entered at the far end of the hallway was lined with crowded wooden book shelves on two sides; a large Vermeer print hung on another, while most of the remaining wall was taken up with a large window through which she could see a small walled garden in the centre of which stood a silver birch tree. The glass in the window was tinted and it occurred to Jane that it was of a type that allowed the occupants of the room to look out but no one could see into the room. A very expensive looking imitation-coal fire burned in the fireplace. The room like the hall spoke of good taste. Nothing about it was cheap, nor was there any ostentatious display of the large amount of money that must have been spent to create such an ambience.

Jane tried to identify the music that was playing. It was strange, a mixture of bells and horns and a soft incessant drumming. Compelling.

' You liked it, Jane?' His voice was so deep and so lovely. Slowly she turned to face him, her back to the warming fire.

'Yes', she said innocently, meeting his gaze, 'very much.' His eyes seemed to read her soul and she wanted to drown in their depths. And then the use of the past tense registered and she felt her colour rise and she averted her eyes.

George gave his enigmatic smile and motioned her to sit. ' I'm glad', he said, ' I hoped you would. Here let me take your shoes off. Just you relax. Lean back there and close your eyes.'

He dropped to his knees at her feet and began to remove her shoes. It registered in her head that she should object but somehow she didn't want to. He kept talking to her in that warm caressing voice and she gave herself up to its soothing lullaby.

She felt him raise her foot and he slid her shoe off. The music washed over her and she felt as if she was in a pool of happiness.

One shoe off, he rested her stockinged sole on the flat of his thigh and bent to remove the other shoe. His movements were so slow, so unhurried. Through the thin material of the trousers Jane sensed the heat of him and a moist warmth began in her groin.

But she did not remove her foot. She wondered if he felt a similar sensation.

He began to rub her feet, caressing them ever so slowly one at a time. And all the while the magic of his voice drew her into deeper and deeper relaxation. Jane had never felt so much at ease. She felt she was drifting into total serenity while George's large hands caressed and kneaded and fondled.

Now he began to massage her ankle, first one then the other.So gentle and yet she could sense the latent power in those hands. His voice instructed her to breathe more deeply. and at the same time she willed his hands to go higher. To steal up past her calves and over her thighs. She leaned further back and the chair back slid back with her till she was almost horizontal. Jane was dimly aware that her skirt was hiked up so far that George could probably see her black knickers. She didn't care. It didn't matter. Then into her dreaming mind came the amusing thought that it did. She wanted him to see.

Slowly his hands massaged her calves, gliding up the backs of her knees. She spread them apart, her mouth was open now as her breathing became even deeper. When his hands slithered round and over the inside of her thighs just above the knee she gave a little mew of pleasure. She wanted to spread herself wider but her skirt constrained her legs.

She felt his hands move to her waist and slowly, unhurriedly, he undid the buttons then put an arm below her knees and lifted her bottom.off the chair. She did nothing to help him but just lay back, eyes shut as he wiggled her skirt off. She felt she was in a dream. She wanted the dream to go on.

Gently he laid her back and she felt him move closer. She felt his shoulders between her knees and then his face was nuzzling into the wispy silk of her knickers and his warm breath was warming the springy tight curls of her mound.