Chapter 4

I know it's most men's fantasy (well it's mine anyway) that they awake to a warm feeling on their cock and open their eyes to see their wife/girlfriend/girl–who–stayed–the–night, with the aforesaid cock deep in their mouths.

For some it does come true, lucky sods, and I was a lucky sod that morning! Trish was kneeling at the end of the bed, leaning over me and sucking me gently into consciousness and my cock into life, and looking lovingly into my opening eyes.

"Good morning!" that's what I think she said, though clear speech and a mouthful of penis do not go well together.

"Good morning!" I replied. "It's rude to talk with your mouth full."

She let my engorged cock fall from her lips, "Are you going to criticise or do you want me to bring you to some sort of conclusion?"

"Prefer a shag?"

She nodded, scooted up the bed and impaled herself on my well-prepared member. She lost no time in getting into a rhythm, with eyes closed and biting her bottom lip in concentration, her tits bouncing in circles as she worked herself on me.

I could feel her getting close though she made no sound other than heavy panting breaths, and I reached up to tweak her nipples. Her eyes flew open, heavy lidded with excitement, and she looked down at me full of lust. Her orgasm hit her; her face twisted in a grimace and her eyes once again closed tight shut as she gave one quiet groan and twitched, convulsed and then held tense and still while it took her. I felt the contractions grip.

Still with no word spoken she came back from that wordless, imageless place, her look having softened into an adoring stare as she began to rise and fall once more, this time for my resolution which came quickly and powerfully thanks to her kegel muscles and her talented fingers, reaching behind her to caress my perineum and my balls, and finally pressing a finger hard against my anus.

We lay together in the afterglow, knowing that we needed to rise to another strenuous day for me. As usual she read my thoughts.

"Don't worry about us, my sweet. Things have a way of working out. We won't be the first couple who had to travel to see each other. You belong here not in Newcastle. Don't feel guilty. Live for the day."

I hugged her hard by way of reply. We did that lovers thing, gazing into each other's eyes and loving each other in a wordless yet eloquent conversation which spoke only of love and self-giving.

Then we were up and showering, breakfasting, sorting the room out and welcoming David's arrival. As I left, Trish called after me. "I'll be in Manchester shopping. See you back here."

I waved and got into David's car.

We drove the short hop to Sale. I did seem to know the route in a vague sort of way, but couldn't tell whether I should be happier at the working of my long- or my short-term memory.

Once we got near the centre of the town David turned off the main road and took a side road to an industrial estate. Soon we were outside an industrial unit that I did not recognise, though the name Jonsson Solutions, was clearly mine.

We entered. Seated at reception was a pretty young woman who greeted David with "Hi, Mr Lombard. Mr Bucklow is expecting you. Would you sign in please?"

David signed his name and added 'and guest'. We then proceeded down the corridor to an office. David knocked and walked in; I followed.

Here there was another pretty woman, older than the first, perhaps in her late thirties. She was blond with blue eyes, a small nose and wide mouth.

"Hello Judy," said David. "Geoff ready for us?"

"Morning David; Mr Jones. Yes he's ready. Go right in."

"Know her?" asked David in such a quiet voice I could hardly hear him.

I shook my head.

Then the door was open and I saw Mr Geoff Bucklow for the first time (for me).

I don't know what I was expecting, probably a sleek, dark haired, be-suited executive sitting behind a large desk with a perfect smile. What I got was the backside of a figure bending over a side table on which was a laptop.

"With you in a minute, David," he muttered. "Damn problem is insoluble. One more try."

David raised his eyes to heaven, "He's always like this," he said.

Geoff immediately straightened up.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, turning towards us. "I'd forgotten David was bringing a visitor."

The man had a shock of untidy blond hair with a hint of red in it, his body was thick-set and he was an inch taller than I. He took two strides towards us holding out his large hand. He showed no reaction at all to my face which surprised me. There was not even a flicker of surprise at the state of it.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, "Geoff Bucklow," introducing himself. I took his hand and shook it.

"How d'you do, Mr Bucklow," I replied, "I've been looking forward to meeting you. We've met many times before but I don't know you and you don't know me!" and I laughed, more a giggle really.

The effect was comical. He looked puzzled. You could see his mind working, trying to piece together two conflicting ideas, that we met often and did not know each other, and I thought he recognised something in my voice.

"I'm sure I'd remember you," he said tentatively. "In fact–"

"With this face? Yes you would, but I didn't have this face two and a half years ago in York."

He was quick. His mouth dropped open. "It's ... It's not?..."

"Yes Geoff, it's me," I said, putting him out of his misery.

He stared at me in silence, his mouth opening and closing.

At length he stuttered, "Allan? In God's name where have you been? And what's happened to you?"

"Shall we sit down?" suggested David.

Geoff started and gestured to the easy chairs at the side, sitting in one himself. We did the same.

"Tell him, Allan," said David.

I told him. I was getting good at telling this tale. Constant repetition cements memories. I told it straight leaving out all speculation. When I finished he looked shell-shocked.

"But how come no one knew where you were? Didn't Ann check? I assumed the first thing she'd do would be to go to the hotel and check you were there and when you left. You mean she didn't check?"

"No," I replied, "at least not widely enough. Why should anyone check a Newcastle Hospital? There's no way she could have traced me to Newcastle General from what she would have learned from the hotel."

"But why didn't she go on to the police? I assumed she had."

He looked wretched.

"If I'd known, I would have done the usual searches," he muttered. "If I'd have known she hadn't gone there, I would have. I assumed she'd done that."

"She went to the police but that was all. She didn't go to the hotel," said David. "She just seemed to accept everything she was told."

"Look," I said, "don't beat yourself up about it. I've been beaten up and I don't recommend it!"

He had the grace to smile ruefully.

"I have no memory of that trip to York," I added. "Tell us about it."

"You were going to meet Jan Thomasson while he took in the races. Great man for the horses is Jan. He was very impressed with your hospitality and we got a good order from him, first of s few. You rang to say you'd met him. You sealed the deal with him and I got the details."

I shook my head.

"I've no memory of any of that, Geoff. This will come as a shock to you; I don't remember you either. I don't know anything about this company other than that I own it, or part of it."