Chapter 4

Jonathon Wetherall strolled aimlessly up and down the concourse. He'd tried sitting in the waiting area, watching the 'flight arrivals' screen flick over, but he was too tense.

'Announcing the arrival of Cathay Pacific flight CT 101, Amsterdam via Taipei at gate 12, please ensure the area is kept clear for disembarking passengers... ' the address system announced.

After a short time, airport staff had clipped back the double doors in front of the tide of humanity pouring through it.

Jonathon stood a little way off scanning the faces for Joanne. He figured the 1^st class passengers would be let off first. Eventually he spied her in a little group talking animatedly to each other. She didn't appear to see him.

Jonathon moved a little closer to the group that halted, still talking.

"That's right," he heard Joanne say, " call him tomorrow and find out his thoughts on this... no, go straight to the top, Frank... don't fool about with Bloch, he compromised himself over that EDS contract, remember? Talk to Guy or Roquefort himself, get an ok so we can get things moving."

He recognised the woman he knew as 'Margaret.' Her eyes settled on him and she tapped Joanne on the shoulder.

"Joanne, I think your chauffeur's waiting," she said grinning.

Joanne parted with the group, giving last minute advice, she slowly moved towards Jonathon. Eventually the group started to break up and shuffle towards the baggage collection. Joanne passed him saying,

"Follow me," without pausing.

While Joanne waited for her bags she turned to Jonathon,

"Did you bring my car?" she asked. Jonathon nodded.

"Good! Can I have the keys please," she demanded in a low voice.

"Thank you. Do you know where the bus stop is?"

"Joanne!" Jonathon pleaded, "can we talk?"

"I think you've said enough, Jonathon. Go back to your little teen squeeze and tell her she can have you. She might be a good nurse for you in your old age. After class, of course."

"It's not like that," Jonathon told her, "I didn't do anything. Well, not much anyway."

"Not much?" she said raising her voice, "you're such a fool! Not much what?"

"It was just a bit of fun... I was angry!"

"Fun! Was it?" Joanne said menacingly, " a bit of slap and tickle, a quick grope?"

"Something like that."

"And what? Her mother called her? The school bell rang? She suddenly opened her eyes and found you were a forty year old, balding loser with clammy hands? She called her daddy who beat the crap out of you? Did he cut off your balls? I would have."

"Joanne, calm down. Let me explain, I was angry with you."

"Listen, Jonathon," she said dropping her voice again, " you were angry? So was I, but I didn't jump the waiter. No-one, I repeat no-one," she told him, bringing her face inches from him. "No-one fucks around on me... ever. Have you got a good memory?"

"Um... I guess."

"Good, because it will be all you have, if I ever hear of you so much as ask the time of anything with tits, understand?" Jonathon nodded.

"Or without them, in the case of your little blond."

"She did have..." Jonathon started to say.

"Don't!" Joanne interrupted, "say... another... word, Jonathon."

They were heading out along the coast road towards Joanne's suburb. Joanne insisted she drive,

'So my baby knows I haven't forgotten her.'

Suddenly she burst out laughing.

"What's the joke?" Jonathon asked.

"You! Oh haha... you're a scream, you really are."

"How so?" Jonathon asked.

"A quick grope, you said... a bit of fun... and then you tell me she has got tits after all. I'm supposed to feel better? 'I didn't think you'd mind if I fucked a little schoolgirl'," she mimicked. "After all, it was only the once. Were you drunk?"

"Yes."

"And her?"

"Very! That's why I left without..."

"I thought so. It was a stupid move, even for you. If I thought you'd been sober you wouldn't be catching the bus home, it would be an ambulance."

"Look! I'm sorry, ok?"

On the way home, Jonathon tried to put his hand up Joanne's skirt. She pushed it away.

"I thought you liked it," Jonathon told her.

"Oh, I see. Like my little teen hunk?"

"Yes."

"You're not a teenager, Jonathon. And... and I don't have to be satisfied with quick gropes in the car anymore, or do I?"

"No, you don't," he answered.

"A warm bed, clean sheets, long showers... cuddling and a cooked breakfast in bed in the morning... and making love till lunchtime. I have that to look forward to, don't I?"

"Yes."

"And no quickie over my desk, either, eh? With the staff looking on?"

"No."

"I'm surprised you thought that would even turn me on, Jonathon."

"I'm sorry, Joanne."

"At least you could have closed the curtains," she giggled.

"Do you want to go out for tea or should I whip something up for you here?" Jonathon asked as they got home.

"Well, you see I just had breakfast on the plane. I slept most of the last leg... and I'm still on European time. However you can whip something out for me," she answered.

"Up."

"Out and up," she said moving towards him.

"That's better," Joanne said as they held each other, kissing, "did your teenager kiss as well?"

"Just about sucked my face off," Jonathon replied.

"I see! Like this..." she said, fastening her lips to his.

"Well?"

"Something like that. More like this..." he said, returning the favour.

"Forget the shower... have it later... take me upstairs..."

Jonathon was still kissing her when they fell into the bedroom. Aroused, he began to tug at the buttons of her blouse.

"Wait! Down big boy. Sit on the bed, I've got something to show you," Joanne instructed. "I've been shopping, here are a couple of things for you." Joanne tossed him two parcels from her suitcase.

The largest parcel he unwrapped first, to reveal a pair of Mossino printed jeans. Jonathon was flabbergasted.

"These must have cost a fortune," he said.

"Yes they did. Do you like them? I can always give them to the Salvation Army shop."

"No! No, they're incredible."

"Try them on... I want to see the fit... with the other thing I got you."

Jonathon opened the other parcel. In it was a pair of silk boxers.

"Ok," Joanne said, "change into them... give us a show! Throw those old things in the wood burner. Better yet get them to walk there themselves. Oo! Ease them over it, dear, we wouldn't want to damage it."

Jonathon slipped his old briefs carefully over his erection.

"Is there enough room for you," Joanne giggled as Jonathon pulled up his new shorts, "Y'know they should come with elastic in the front, or a little pocket it can slip into, shouldn't it?"

"There's plenty of room," he announced, "see?"

"How does the silk feel?"

"Nice, smooth."

"Come over here, give us a look," Joanne commanded.

Joanne smoothed her hands over the fabric of Jonathon's shorts, over his bottom cheeks and round to the front. She gave his cock a squeeze.

"Mmm, yes, I like that. Try on the jeans."

The jeans fitted his scrawny frame to perfection. Joanne made him turn around and parade up and down as if at a fashion show.

"Jonathon, you have such a cute set of buns. You must always wear trousers that have a tight fit around your butt. It's your best asset."

"I just wear what's comfortable..."

"What, those old things," she said indicating his old faded jeans, "where did you get them? Let me guess, church sale? In 1952?"

"I wasn't born then."

"No, but I bet those old jeans were."

Jonathon loved his new Mossinos. The print consisted of flower outlines, interspersed with vines that ran up and down the legs.

"Sit down," Joanne commanded, "I've got something to show you. Something I bought for myself in Paris."

She stood up and began to undo the buttons of her blouse.

Joanne carefully shed her blouse to reveal her bra. The light blue lace was practically sheer and did nothing to hide her full breasts and rigid nipples. The neckline fell to just above her teats displaying an acre of swelling flesh.

"Wow!" said Jonathon.

"Like it? Stay there! There's more."

Next, Joanne's skirt came down to reveal a pair of sheer panties. The legs cut sharply down from her hips to her pussy. Jonathon saw that she had trimmed her bush down the sides.

"I had to trim it a little, I hope you don't mind."

"No," Jonathon said, " it looks beautiful."

"Good," she replied, relaxing a little, " I wasn't sure. Do you want to feel the silk?"

"Oh yes, very much," Jonathon croaked.

Joanne stood in front of Jonathon as he stroked and kissed the fabric of her panties. He put his cheek against her crotch while smoothing his hands over her bottom. She sat down on his knee and said,