Part Fifty-Four
As George drove in to the car park of the digs, late on the Saturday evening, she couldn't help but feel nervous. If there was one thing that might irrevocably rock the boat of this three-way relationship, it was her and Karen. A slow, sexy smile crossed her face as she remembered the previous evening. It turned her on, just to think about what they'd done. But that wasn't what she was here for. After talking about a lot of things in the early morning, they'd come to the conclusion that the sooner John knew how things were, the better. The longer they left him in the dark, the more awkward things would be. With this resolve in mind, George got out of the car and walked towards the Judge's lodgings.
John was sitting in his room, papers from the Lauren Atkins trial spread the length and breadth of the dining table, trying to work out exactly what sentence he would give her, depending on what verdict the jury brought in. If she was found guilty of murder, he would have no choice but to give her a life sentence, but that wouldn't prevent him from making a recommendation or two. If she was found not guilty, then she would obviously be free to go, but John didn't think this was very likely. The real quandary would arise if she were found guilty of manslaughter by definition of diminished responsibility. So, he was getting ahead of the game, reading and rereading the two psychiatric reports, as well as the transcript of the entire trial to date. When he received the knock on his door and Mr. Johnson showed in George, he looked up with mixed feelings. He hadn't spoken to George for a good few days, and by the look of her, she'd come to tell him about her and Karen. "You look busy," She said as he got to his feet. "I can come back some other time." "No, stay," He said, putting his arms round her and kissing her cheek. "I've probably had more than enough of this lot anyway." "Is that from the Lauren Atkins trial?" She asked, catching sight of the name on a piece of paper. "Yes. I'm trying to work out what sentence I might give her when the time comes." As John began stacking the papers together, George couldn't keep still. She started helping him at one point, just to give her hands something to do. "If I didn't know better," He commented quietly. "I'd think you were incredibly nervous about something." George stopped in horror that he'd noticed. "Yes, I am," She said, handing the final report to him to put in the folder. "I've got something to tell you." "And is it so bad, that you're positively afraid of telling me?" "I've got absolutely no idea how you're going to react, so yes, in one sense I suppose it is bad." "Would you like a drink?" He asked, seeing that she really wasn't looking forward to the conversation she thought they were about to have.
When he'd poured her a martini, he sat in his favourite armchair, watching her as she prowled round the room, looking at pictures, picking up the odd ornament, and stopping by a chair on which sat his open violin case. When she ran her gentle hand along the beautifully carved neck of the violin, and delicately plucked the strings, it seemed as though she was bestowing such affection on something which was so much a part of his soul, that it gave him an incredible surge of protectiveness for his instrument. John didn't try to find out what was bothering her, partly because he knew, and partly because she had to be allowed to tell him in her own time. Jo had been right about that. The worst thing he could do now was to rush her. But George seemed incapable of speaking. Her mouth felt dry, and her throat clogged with the words that she just couldn't force out.
"Would you like me to make it easier for you?" He asked into the silence. "You don't know what I'm about to say, so I don't see how you can." "Ah," He said slowly. "But I do." "What! How can you?" Her face was a mixture of shock, hurt and anger. "How long have you known?" She demanded, feeling slightly betrayed that he'd let her go through the tortuous anticipation of his reaction. "I've only known since Thursday," He said mildly, trying to calm her down. George couldn't look at him. Her eyes flitted from one object to another, not meeting his for fear of what she might see. "You didn't need to be quite so frightened, you know," He said, feeling the uncertainty coming off her in waves. "I might have been initially hurt that you hadn't told me, but I'm not angry with you." "So why wait for me to tell you? I've been psyching myself up all day for this." "Jo said that you needed to do this in your own time, and much as I disagreed with her, I think she was right." George looked furious. "Did Jo tell you?" "No, of course not," John said defensively. "Jo was more than a little loyal to you. I virtually had to drag it out of her." George found herself feeling a flash of sympathy for Jo, having had experience of John's persistent questioning on previous occasions. "But how did you find out?" She asked, looking a little perplexed. "I worked it out," He said, with a twinkle in his eye because he knew how this would infuriate her. "How?" She asked scornfully. "Sit down, and then I'll tell you. You're making the room look untidy." With a roll of her eyes in slight exasperation, she sat in an armchair not far from his. "When I came to see you a week last Wednesday, I knew I could smell a different perfume in your house. You've always worn the same perfume all the time I've known you. But, I didn't think anything of it, because the sight that greeted me when I got upstairs drove everything else from my mind." George blushed slightly when she remembered what he had seen. "Anyway, when Karen came back to court on Thursday to apologise for walking out, I gave her a hug, and after she'd gone, I remembered where I'd last been aware of that perfume. After that it was easy." "You've always wanted to play Sherlock Holmes, haven't you," She said with a rueful smile. "Why were you so worried about telling me? It's not as if you're attraction to other women is unknown to me. I think you gave Jo a bit of a shock, though." "I wanted to tell you myself," She said quietly, brief tears rising to her eyes because she'd wanted to prepare him for it, not have it thrust upon him at a moment's notice. "But, best laid plans and all that," She added, trying to get herself under control. "Come here," He said softly, and when she approached him, he took her hand and pulled her down on to his knee, enclosing her in the arms that would now be competing for her. "Why so frightened of telling me?" He asked, gently kissing her. "Because I didn't want to hurt you, hurting you is the last thing I would ever want to do. When we last, when you last came to see me, I'd been out for dinner with Karen, and I'd wanted her to stay and not wanted her to stay, so she didn't. I couldn't come up with the goods for you, because what I'd not long before been doing felt so new." "You don't have to explain," He said softly. "John, why are you being so nice to me?" She asked in total despair, knowing that finding out like that must have hurt him deeply. "Because Jo told me to be," He said with a completely straight face. George couldn't help smiling. "Did she really?" "Yes. I kept badgering her to tell me who your new lover was, because it became obvious she knew." "Oh, poor Jo," George said in slight admonishment. "She knocked some sense in to me on Thursday night. When it dawned on me exactly who your new lover was, I was cross, bewildered and hurt all in one." "Oh, darling, I'm sorry," She said, putting her arms round him. "I think I was mostly cross because Jo had known and not told me." "Yes, and I shouldn't have put her in that position," George said regretfully. "I'm sure she'll forgive you," John said dryly. "Jo gave me a bit of a talking too. She said that this relationship wasn't just about me any more, and she said that allowing you to get used to this in your own time was far more important than satisfying my curiosity." "Oh, dear," George interjected, wholly unable to keep the slight smile off her face. "She made me realise that all you're really doing is what I've been doing for the last fifteen months." "John, what really got to you about all this? Because it isn't just the fact that I kept you in the dark for a few days." "Erm," He suddenly looked a little uncomfortable, turning his face away from her to avoid her unflinching gaze. "I think I thought I was going to lose you." "Oh, John," George said, feeling truly guilty for making him think this. "I'm not going anywhere." "Aren't you?" He asked slightly petulantly. "No," She reassured him gently. "I love you, John, and I'm not about to say goodbye to what I have with you, just because of someone new on the scene. I've got no idea how long this thing with Karen might last, but she will never, ever take me away from you." "You don't know that, George." "Yes, I do," She said gently. "And Karen knows it too." "I can't believe I talked to her on Thursday and she didn't tell me either." "John, think about it," George said seriously. "After what happened on Thursday afternoon, that was probably the last thing on her mind." "How is she now? Because she didn't seem particularly good when I saw her." "She's fine, or at least she was last night," George said, the soft, sleepy smile of sexual contentment brightening up her face. "I can't believe you've finally got round to it after all these years," He said with a slight leer. "If you hadn't already slept with more women than I care to count, I would highly recommend it," She said, her broad grin matching his. "Oh, you like it that much, do you?" He asked, now playing along with her. "It's incredible," She replied, drawing out the word incredible, to give it maximum emphasis. She kissed him lingeringly. "I now know why you like giving oral so much." He laughed deep in his throat. "The thought of you doing that to Karen will keep me quiet for weeks." "You were the one who told me to do it after all," She said with a wink. "Did I?" He said in surprise, thinking this must have been the result of a moment's insanity. "Yes, that night you told me about you and Karen. You said you thought that I ought to sleep with a woman." "And when did you ever do anything I told you to do?" "Well, darling," She said between kisses. "There has to be a first time for everything." "So I see," He replied, allowing her nearness to temporarily take away any residual hurt or confusion he'd been feeling about George and Karen.
After some of this simple closeness punctuated by some fragmented conversation, George said, "I want to make love to you." "So you haven't entirely gone off the idea then?" He said dryly, though with a hint of real concern in there somewhere. "John," George said firmly. "This is me you're talking too. I will never, ever, get bored of sleeping with you, I promise." She punctuated this statement with yet more kisses, steadily trying to persuade him that she was here, that she loved him, and that she wanted him. "Are you turning my usual trick back on me?" He asked in amusement as he recognised what she was up too. Grinning wickedly she said, "Well, I did learn from the best after all." "So you did," He said, his voice deepening slightly. When his hand came in to contact with her blouse-covered breast, her kisses became deeper. "I love you," He said, and she could hear the desperate need he felt for her. "I know you do," She replied, leading his hand to the buttons of her blouse. When the buttons were undone, he was presented with the glorious sight of her beautiful, pointed breasts, with no bra impeding his view. He took a moment to just stare at her loveliness, the cream silk framing her extremely pretty breasts to perfection. "You're so beautiful," He said in slight wonderment. "You sound as though you've only just noticed," She said with a smile. Putting out a finger, he ran it caressingly over the skin that surrounded her right nipple, eliciting a gasp of sheer eroticism from her. It seemed to her that he was taking in every inch of her figure, in an attempt to preserve the memory of her forever. So as to distract him from this moment of contemplation, she moved her thigh so that it rubbed up against his steadily growing erection. Then, she detached his arms from around her and slid from his lap onto her knees on the carpet in front of him. Observing the slightly predatory gleam in her eye, he realised exactly what she had planned. As she reached for the zip of his fly, he said, "Much as I couldn't think of a better way to spend the evening, you don't have to do that." "I want to," She said simply. Gently removing his length from his trousers, she smiled when she saw how ready he was for this. As her lips deftly encircled the head, he reached for the remote control on the side table and flicked on the stereo, filling the room with some soft music to accompany their dance where for once, she was leading. As the pressure of her lips increased, drawing him in and out of her mouth, swiping her tongue over the surface as she might an ice lolly, he gently removed the chignon from her hair, running his fingers again and again through the blonde, silky strands. He breathed a deep sigh of contentment as she relaxed her throat muscles enough to take him into its soft and hollow depths. Then she would withdraw to the tip again, just faintly teasing him, never quite allowing him to predict what she might do next. She had an arm round his waist to steady herself, and at one point tangled the fingers of her other hand with one of his. She could do this to him with her mouth and mouth alone, no hands necessary, and he loved it. Not once did her teeth accidentally come into contact with his skin, George having quickly learnt the art of damage limitation. At one particularly hard and luxurious squeeze from those enchantingly pouting lips of hers, he made a sound deep in his throat that made her smile. She loved doing this to him, utterly revelling in making him temporarily submit to her ministrations. But as her rhythm took on a particular pattern and speed, he knew that it was time to gently detach her from him, and to finish this off in some other way. "George," He said, his throat almost dry with lust, but she ignored him. Laying his free hand on her face, he tried to gently push her away from him. Knowing exactly what he was up to, she took his free hand in hers that had been around his waist, and holding both his hands to the arms of the chair, she continued. A broad, thoroughly wicked smile spread across his face. It wasn't often George took him the whole way like this, but when she did, it was fantastic. Increasing her speed, George attempted to relax her throat even more, trying to keep all her senses away from what was coming. His breathing quickened, any control he might previously have had, leaving him in an instant. It was incredible, being under her spell like this, being almost held down, so that she could take what she wanted from him, though he would never tell her this. When his release crashed over him, she swallowed every drop he had to give, using her tongue to remove all traces from him as she accepted his offering. When she knew he was spent, she reached for her glass of martini and downed it in one. When she looked back at him, he'd refastened his fly and was watching her. Pulling her back in to his arms, he said, "If you detest the taste so much, why do it?" "Because I know you like it, and because it makes me feel incredibly naughty. Besides," She added with a mischievous grin. "There's nothing quite as erotic as making you completely lose control." "You're one in a million, you are," He said as he kissed her. "Hmm, well, I'll make you taste it one of these days," She replied with a wicked little smirk that left him in no doubt that she might just follow through with her threat.
A little while later when they moved up the stairs in the corner of the lounge to his bedroom above, his hands were feverishly removing the rest of her clothes. "You're very eager," She commented, undoing his belt and attacking the buttons of his shirt. "Well, having not made love to you for over a fortnight, I intend to make up for lost time." "Oh, do you now?" She drawled. "Yes," He said firmly, drawing back the duvet and gently pushing her down on to the bed. "Two weeks of not giving this body all the pleasure it was made for is far too long." As he immediately latched on to one of her nipples and slipped a hand between her legs, she said, "It feels like you're putting your claim on me." "Perhaps I am," He murmured through a mouthful of exquisitely female flesh. "You don't need to be quite so territorial, you know," She said with a smile, and then gasped as he slid two fingers inside her. On discovering just how wet she already was, he said, "You really do get something out of doing that for me, don't you." "Yes," She said, her breathing quickening as he massaged her clit with a well-lubricated finger. When his teeth grazed her skin, she gave a small yelp. "I'm sorry," He said, though not sounding especially apologetic. "Oh, you be just as rough as you like," She said through gritted teeth. "I think that today, I just might be in the mood for it." Taking her at her word, he moved over to the other nipple, all the time keeping his hand moving lower down. Not long after, she said, "Please, John, I need you inside me, now." Loving it when she virtually begged him like this, and her slightly vocal reactions to him having made him once again rise to the occasion, he hovered over her and slid inside her with one long thrust. She immediately wrapped her arms and legs round him, pulling him as close to her as possible. Now she really did discover that he was putting his mark on her, saying that no matter who else she might sleep with in her spare time, she would always be his. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, he slammed into her again and again, grazing her G spot every time and bringing her closer and closer to the edge. Her gasps became more frantic, she clung to John still harder, and finally soared over her peak with one loud cry of abandon. She almost squeezed the life out of him as she came, which meant that he followed soon after.
When he gently withdrew from her and they lay slightly apart, their breathing slowly returning to normal, she said, "What on earth got into you?" He looked a little sheepish. "I don't know. I think I was just reasserting myself. Sorry if it was a bit much." "Who's complaining," George said turning onto her side and kissing his shoulder. "I'm not saying I'd like it like that every day of the week, but it was pretty bloody explosive." As they took a shower together a short while later, George reflected that with both Karen and John taking care of her every sexual fantasy, she wouldn't feel deprived ever again. But when they were back in bed, and slowly drifting to sleep in each other's arms, John said softly, "You won't ever leave me, will you?" "No," She said, gently kissing him. "If there's one thing I've learnt and learnt well over the last fifteen months, it's that not having you in my life would finish me off altogether. So no, I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
When George slowly rose in to consciousness early on the Sunday morning, she was at first puzzled as to what had woken her. But then she realised that one of John's hands was delicately playing over her breasts, occasionally brushing her nipples, which is what had attracted the attention of her fog filled brain. Breathing in through her nose, she groaned in half asleep, half-aroused interest. When John realised that she was not opposed to his attentions, he kept his right hand moving over her cleavage, and trailed his left hand downwards. George had turned over in her sleep, and so was now lying with her back to him. She stretched luxuriously as his hand crept between her legs, the gentle, incredibly sexy awakening serving to heighten her senses. When she let out a deep moan of utter contentment, he began dropping feather-light kisses over her shoulder. When she finally turned over to face him, she could feel his hardness against her thigh. Without a single word between them, their legs entwined, and still on their sides, he slid gently inside her. This was the sort of sleepy, lazy, Sunday morning type of sex that George found she didn't get nearly enough of these days. Weekends were made for this sort of long, slow screw, and with John usually dividing his weekends up between her and Jo, it wasn't something either woman had in anything like a substantial amount. They rocked gently to and fro, their legs and arms wrapped around each other, occasionally kissing and still not saying anything. Nothing needed to be said, they loved each other, they felt that drowsy, early morning type of horny, so why not make use of it. The position they were in meant that the base of his shaft continuously rubbed against her clitoris, causing every nerve ending in her to be set alight. George loved this position because he could keep going for ages like this, occasionally causing her to have her own orgasm half way through, and be ready for the second in which he joined her. When they gently rocked themselves to completion, he kissed her long and hard, again laying a claim on one of his alpha females.
As they lay afterwards, George said, "Good morning," In that deeper, husky voice that he'd always found sexy. "We haven't done that for a while," He observed. "No, and I think it's a tradition that needs resurrecting," She said with a soft, sleepy smile. "Has Karen ever woken you up like that?" He couldn't help asking, a sheepish little smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "Sort of, the first time I slept with her," She yawned. "And you don't need to look quite so guilty and curious all in one go," She added with a smirk. "I can't help being curious," He said, his smile becoming broader. "But I thought you might not want me to ask." "And when has that ever stopped you?" George asked in mock disgust. "So you don't mind then?" "No, of course not. Besides, there isn't much I can tell you about Karen that you don't know already." "Yes, talking of just how much I know about Karen, Jo worked out that I'd slept with her. It seems the way I defended her character in court on Thursday brought a spark of enlightenment to something Jo had always wondered." "Ah, yes, I thought it might," George said resignedly. "Darling, to people who know you, it was a bit obvious. Was she cross with you?" "Not really. I don't think either of us could really be bothered to go into it." "Because you were trying to browbeat her over what she knew about me." "I didn't browbeat her," He said defensively. "I just probed and prodded until I got the answers I was looking for." George grinned wryly at him. "John, I know what you're like when you get in to full prosecution mode, there's no stopping you." "Just, next time," He said seriously. "Don't keep me in the dark and don't be afraid to tell me."
An hour or so later when John let her quietly out of the digs so that no one would know she'd stayed the night, George felt that, despite the short period of slightly choppy waters, her life might be about to tread an even keel for a while, the balancing forces of John and Karen on either side, with Jo always either in front or behind her, to keep her firmly on course, and to prevent her from sinking below the surface as she'd almost done all those months ago.
As George drove in to the car park of the digs, late on the Saturday evening, she couldn't help but feel nervous. If there was one thing that might irrevocably rock the boat of this three-way relationship, it was her and Karen. A slow, sexy smile crossed her face as she remembered the previous evening. It turned her on, just to think about what they'd done. But that wasn't what she was here for. After talking about a lot of things in the early morning, they'd come to the conclusion that the sooner John knew how things were, the better. The longer they left him in the dark, the more awkward things would be. With this resolve in mind, George got out of the car and walked towards the Judge's lodgings.
John was sitting in his room, papers from the Lauren Atkins trial spread the length and breadth of the dining table, trying to work out exactly what sentence he would give her, depending on what verdict the jury brought in. If she was found guilty of murder, he would have no choice but to give her a life sentence, but that wouldn't prevent him from making a recommendation or two. If she was found not guilty, then she would obviously be free to go, but John didn't think this was very likely. The real quandary would arise if she were found guilty of manslaughter by definition of diminished responsibility. So, he was getting ahead of the game, reading and rereading the two psychiatric reports, as well as the transcript of the entire trial to date. When he received the knock on his door and Mr. Johnson showed in George, he looked up with mixed feelings. He hadn't spoken to George for a good few days, and by the look of her, she'd come to tell him about her and Karen. "You look busy," She said as he got to his feet. "I can come back some other time." "No, stay," He said, putting his arms round her and kissing her cheek. "I've probably had more than enough of this lot anyway." "Is that from the Lauren Atkins trial?" She asked, catching sight of the name on a piece of paper. "Yes. I'm trying to work out what sentence I might give her when the time comes." As John began stacking the papers together, George couldn't keep still. She started helping him at one point, just to give her hands something to do. "If I didn't know better," He commented quietly. "I'd think you were incredibly nervous about something." George stopped in horror that he'd noticed. "Yes, I am," She said, handing the final report to him to put in the folder. "I've got something to tell you." "And is it so bad, that you're positively afraid of telling me?" "I've got absolutely no idea how you're going to react, so yes, in one sense I suppose it is bad." "Would you like a drink?" He asked, seeing that she really wasn't looking forward to the conversation she thought they were about to have.
When he'd poured her a martini, he sat in his favourite armchair, watching her as she prowled round the room, looking at pictures, picking up the odd ornament, and stopping by a chair on which sat his open violin case. When she ran her gentle hand along the beautifully carved neck of the violin, and delicately plucked the strings, it seemed as though she was bestowing such affection on something which was so much a part of his soul, that it gave him an incredible surge of protectiveness for his instrument. John didn't try to find out what was bothering her, partly because he knew, and partly because she had to be allowed to tell him in her own time. Jo had been right about that. The worst thing he could do now was to rush her. But George seemed incapable of speaking. Her mouth felt dry, and her throat clogged with the words that she just couldn't force out.
"Would you like me to make it easier for you?" He asked into the silence. "You don't know what I'm about to say, so I don't see how you can." "Ah," He said slowly. "But I do." "What! How can you?" Her face was a mixture of shock, hurt and anger. "How long have you known?" She demanded, feeling slightly betrayed that he'd let her go through the tortuous anticipation of his reaction. "I've only known since Thursday," He said mildly, trying to calm her down. George couldn't look at him. Her eyes flitted from one object to another, not meeting his for fear of what she might see. "You didn't need to be quite so frightened, you know," He said, feeling the uncertainty coming off her in waves. "I might have been initially hurt that you hadn't told me, but I'm not angry with you." "So why wait for me to tell you? I've been psyching myself up all day for this." "Jo said that you needed to do this in your own time, and much as I disagreed with her, I think she was right." George looked furious. "Did Jo tell you?" "No, of course not," John said defensively. "Jo was more than a little loyal to you. I virtually had to drag it out of her." George found herself feeling a flash of sympathy for Jo, having had experience of John's persistent questioning on previous occasions. "But how did you find out?" She asked, looking a little perplexed. "I worked it out," He said, with a twinkle in his eye because he knew how this would infuriate her. "How?" She asked scornfully. "Sit down, and then I'll tell you. You're making the room look untidy." With a roll of her eyes in slight exasperation, she sat in an armchair not far from his. "When I came to see you a week last Wednesday, I knew I could smell a different perfume in your house. You've always worn the same perfume all the time I've known you. But, I didn't think anything of it, because the sight that greeted me when I got upstairs drove everything else from my mind." George blushed slightly when she remembered what he had seen. "Anyway, when Karen came back to court on Thursday to apologise for walking out, I gave her a hug, and after she'd gone, I remembered where I'd last been aware of that perfume. After that it was easy." "You've always wanted to play Sherlock Holmes, haven't you," She said with a rueful smile. "Why were you so worried about telling me? It's not as if you're attraction to other women is unknown to me. I think you gave Jo a bit of a shock, though." "I wanted to tell you myself," She said quietly, brief tears rising to her eyes because she'd wanted to prepare him for it, not have it thrust upon him at a moment's notice. "But, best laid plans and all that," She added, trying to get herself under control. "Come here," He said softly, and when she approached him, he took her hand and pulled her down on to his knee, enclosing her in the arms that would now be competing for her. "Why so frightened of telling me?" He asked, gently kissing her. "Because I didn't want to hurt you, hurting you is the last thing I would ever want to do. When we last, when you last came to see me, I'd been out for dinner with Karen, and I'd wanted her to stay and not wanted her to stay, so she didn't. I couldn't come up with the goods for you, because what I'd not long before been doing felt so new." "You don't have to explain," He said softly. "John, why are you being so nice to me?" She asked in total despair, knowing that finding out like that must have hurt him deeply. "Because Jo told me to be," He said with a completely straight face. George couldn't help smiling. "Did she really?" "Yes. I kept badgering her to tell me who your new lover was, because it became obvious she knew." "Oh, poor Jo," George said in slight admonishment. "She knocked some sense in to me on Thursday night. When it dawned on me exactly who your new lover was, I was cross, bewildered and hurt all in one." "Oh, darling, I'm sorry," She said, putting her arms round him. "I think I was mostly cross because Jo had known and not told me." "Yes, and I shouldn't have put her in that position," George said regretfully. "I'm sure she'll forgive you," John said dryly. "Jo gave me a bit of a talking too. She said that this relationship wasn't just about me any more, and she said that allowing you to get used to this in your own time was far more important than satisfying my curiosity." "Oh, dear," George interjected, wholly unable to keep the slight smile off her face. "She made me realise that all you're really doing is what I've been doing for the last fifteen months." "John, what really got to you about all this? Because it isn't just the fact that I kept you in the dark for a few days." "Erm," He suddenly looked a little uncomfortable, turning his face away from her to avoid her unflinching gaze. "I think I thought I was going to lose you." "Oh, John," George said, feeling truly guilty for making him think this. "I'm not going anywhere." "Aren't you?" He asked slightly petulantly. "No," She reassured him gently. "I love you, John, and I'm not about to say goodbye to what I have with you, just because of someone new on the scene. I've got no idea how long this thing with Karen might last, but she will never, ever take me away from you." "You don't know that, George." "Yes, I do," She said gently. "And Karen knows it too." "I can't believe I talked to her on Thursday and she didn't tell me either." "John, think about it," George said seriously. "After what happened on Thursday afternoon, that was probably the last thing on her mind." "How is she now? Because she didn't seem particularly good when I saw her." "She's fine, or at least she was last night," George said, the soft, sleepy smile of sexual contentment brightening up her face. "I can't believe you've finally got round to it after all these years," He said with a slight leer. "If you hadn't already slept with more women than I care to count, I would highly recommend it," She said, her broad grin matching his. "Oh, you like it that much, do you?" He asked, now playing along with her. "It's incredible," She replied, drawing out the word incredible, to give it maximum emphasis. She kissed him lingeringly. "I now know why you like giving oral so much." He laughed deep in his throat. "The thought of you doing that to Karen will keep me quiet for weeks." "You were the one who told me to do it after all," She said with a wink. "Did I?" He said in surprise, thinking this must have been the result of a moment's insanity. "Yes, that night you told me about you and Karen. You said you thought that I ought to sleep with a woman." "And when did you ever do anything I told you to do?" "Well, darling," She said between kisses. "There has to be a first time for everything." "So I see," He replied, allowing her nearness to temporarily take away any residual hurt or confusion he'd been feeling about George and Karen.
After some of this simple closeness punctuated by some fragmented conversation, George said, "I want to make love to you." "So you haven't entirely gone off the idea then?" He said dryly, though with a hint of real concern in there somewhere. "John," George said firmly. "This is me you're talking too. I will never, ever, get bored of sleeping with you, I promise." She punctuated this statement with yet more kisses, steadily trying to persuade him that she was here, that she loved him, and that she wanted him. "Are you turning my usual trick back on me?" He asked in amusement as he recognised what she was up too. Grinning wickedly she said, "Well, I did learn from the best after all." "So you did," He said, his voice deepening slightly. When his hand came in to contact with her blouse-covered breast, her kisses became deeper. "I love you," He said, and she could hear the desperate need he felt for her. "I know you do," She replied, leading his hand to the buttons of her blouse. When the buttons were undone, he was presented with the glorious sight of her beautiful, pointed breasts, with no bra impeding his view. He took a moment to just stare at her loveliness, the cream silk framing her extremely pretty breasts to perfection. "You're so beautiful," He said in slight wonderment. "You sound as though you've only just noticed," She said with a smile. Putting out a finger, he ran it caressingly over the skin that surrounded her right nipple, eliciting a gasp of sheer eroticism from her. It seemed to her that he was taking in every inch of her figure, in an attempt to preserve the memory of her forever. So as to distract him from this moment of contemplation, she moved her thigh so that it rubbed up against his steadily growing erection. Then, she detached his arms from around her and slid from his lap onto her knees on the carpet in front of him. Observing the slightly predatory gleam in her eye, he realised exactly what she had planned. As she reached for the zip of his fly, he said, "Much as I couldn't think of a better way to spend the evening, you don't have to do that." "I want to," She said simply. Gently removing his length from his trousers, she smiled when she saw how ready he was for this. As her lips deftly encircled the head, he reached for the remote control on the side table and flicked on the stereo, filling the room with some soft music to accompany their dance where for once, she was leading. As the pressure of her lips increased, drawing him in and out of her mouth, swiping her tongue over the surface as she might an ice lolly, he gently removed the chignon from her hair, running his fingers again and again through the blonde, silky strands. He breathed a deep sigh of contentment as she relaxed her throat muscles enough to take him into its soft and hollow depths. Then she would withdraw to the tip again, just faintly teasing him, never quite allowing him to predict what she might do next. She had an arm round his waist to steady herself, and at one point tangled the fingers of her other hand with one of his. She could do this to him with her mouth and mouth alone, no hands necessary, and he loved it. Not once did her teeth accidentally come into contact with his skin, George having quickly learnt the art of damage limitation. At one particularly hard and luxurious squeeze from those enchantingly pouting lips of hers, he made a sound deep in his throat that made her smile. She loved doing this to him, utterly revelling in making him temporarily submit to her ministrations. But as her rhythm took on a particular pattern and speed, he knew that it was time to gently detach her from him, and to finish this off in some other way. "George," He said, his throat almost dry with lust, but she ignored him. Laying his free hand on her face, he tried to gently push her away from him. Knowing exactly what he was up to, she took his free hand in hers that had been around his waist, and holding both his hands to the arms of the chair, she continued. A broad, thoroughly wicked smile spread across his face. It wasn't often George took him the whole way like this, but when she did, it was fantastic. Increasing her speed, George attempted to relax her throat even more, trying to keep all her senses away from what was coming. His breathing quickened, any control he might previously have had, leaving him in an instant. It was incredible, being under her spell like this, being almost held down, so that she could take what she wanted from him, though he would never tell her this. When his release crashed over him, she swallowed every drop he had to give, using her tongue to remove all traces from him as she accepted his offering. When she knew he was spent, she reached for her glass of martini and downed it in one. When she looked back at him, he'd refastened his fly and was watching her. Pulling her back in to his arms, he said, "If you detest the taste so much, why do it?" "Because I know you like it, and because it makes me feel incredibly naughty. Besides," She added with a mischievous grin. "There's nothing quite as erotic as making you completely lose control." "You're one in a million, you are," He said as he kissed her. "Hmm, well, I'll make you taste it one of these days," She replied with a wicked little smirk that left him in no doubt that she might just follow through with her threat.
A little while later when they moved up the stairs in the corner of the lounge to his bedroom above, his hands were feverishly removing the rest of her clothes. "You're very eager," She commented, undoing his belt and attacking the buttons of his shirt. "Well, having not made love to you for over a fortnight, I intend to make up for lost time." "Oh, do you now?" She drawled. "Yes," He said firmly, drawing back the duvet and gently pushing her down on to the bed. "Two weeks of not giving this body all the pleasure it was made for is far too long." As he immediately latched on to one of her nipples and slipped a hand between her legs, she said, "It feels like you're putting your claim on me." "Perhaps I am," He murmured through a mouthful of exquisitely female flesh. "You don't need to be quite so territorial, you know," She said with a smile, and then gasped as he slid two fingers inside her. On discovering just how wet she already was, he said, "You really do get something out of doing that for me, don't you." "Yes," She said, her breathing quickening as he massaged her clit with a well-lubricated finger. When his teeth grazed her skin, she gave a small yelp. "I'm sorry," He said, though not sounding especially apologetic. "Oh, you be just as rough as you like," She said through gritted teeth. "I think that today, I just might be in the mood for it." Taking her at her word, he moved over to the other nipple, all the time keeping his hand moving lower down. Not long after, she said, "Please, John, I need you inside me, now." Loving it when she virtually begged him like this, and her slightly vocal reactions to him having made him once again rise to the occasion, he hovered over her and slid inside her with one long thrust. She immediately wrapped her arms and legs round him, pulling him as close to her as possible. Now she really did discover that he was putting his mark on her, saying that no matter who else she might sleep with in her spare time, she would always be his. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, he slammed into her again and again, grazing her G spot every time and bringing her closer and closer to the edge. Her gasps became more frantic, she clung to John still harder, and finally soared over her peak with one loud cry of abandon. She almost squeezed the life out of him as she came, which meant that he followed soon after.
When he gently withdrew from her and they lay slightly apart, their breathing slowly returning to normal, she said, "What on earth got into you?" He looked a little sheepish. "I don't know. I think I was just reasserting myself. Sorry if it was a bit much." "Who's complaining," George said turning onto her side and kissing his shoulder. "I'm not saying I'd like it like that every day of the week, but it was pretty bloody explosive." As they took a shower together a short while later, George reflected that with both Karen and John taking care of her every sexual fantasy, she wouldn't feel deprived ever again. But when they were back in bed, and slowly drifting to sleep in each other's arms, John said softly, "You won't ever leave me, will you?" "No," She said, gently kissing him. "If there's one thing I've learnt and learnt well over the last fifteen months, it's that not having you in my life would finish me off altogether. So no, I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
When George slowly rose in to consciousness early on the Sunday morning, she was at first puzzled as to what had woken her. But then she realised that one of John's hands was delicately playing over her breasts, occasionally brushing her nipples, which is what had attracted the attention of her fog filled brain. Breathing in through her nose, she groaned in half asleep, half-aroused interest. When John realised that she was not opposed to his attentions, he kept his right hand moving over her cleavage, and trailed his left hand downwards. George had turned over in her sleep, and so was now lying with her back to him. She stretched luxuriously as his hand crept between her legs, the gentle, incredibly sexy awakening serving to heighten her senses. When she let out a deep moan of utter contentment, he began dropping feather-light kisses over her shoulder. When she finally turned over to face him, she could feel his hardness against her thigh. Without a single word between them, their legs entwined, and still on their sides, he slid gently inside her. This was the sort of sleepy, lazy, Sunday morning type of sex that George found she didn't get nearly enough of these days. Weekends were made for this sort of long, slow screw, and with John usually dividing his weekends up between her and Jo, it wasn't something either woman had in anything like a substantial amount. They rocked gently to and fro, their legs and arms wrapped around each other, occasionally kissing and still not saying anything. Nothing needed to be said, they loved each other, they felt that drowsy, early morning type of horny, so why not make use of it. The position they were in meant that the base of his shaft continuously rubbed against her clitoris, causing every nerve ending in her to be set alight. George loved this position because he could keep going for ages like this, occasionally causing her to have her own orgasm half way through, and be ready for the second in which he joined her. When they gently rocked themselves to completion, he kissed her long and hard, again laying a claim on one of his alpha females.
As they lay afterwards, George said, "Good morning," In that deeper, husky voice that he'd always found sexy. "We haven't done that for a while," He observed. "No, and I think it's a tradition that needs resurrecting," She said with a soft, sleepy smile. "Has Karen ever woken you up like that?" He couldn't help asking, a sheepish little smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "Sort of, the first time I slept with her," She yawned. "And you don't need to look quite so guilty and curious all in one go," She added with a smirk. "I can't help being curious," He said, his smile becoming broader. "But I thought you might not want me to ask." "And when has that ever stopped you?" George asked in mock disgust. "So you don't mind then?" "No, of course not. Besides, there isn't much I can tell you about Karen that you don't know already." "Yes, talking of just how much I know about Karen, Jo worked out that I'd slept with her. It seems the way I defended her character in court on Thursday brought a spark of enlightenment to something Jo had always wondered." "Ah, yes, I thought it might," George said resignedly. "Darling, to people who know you, it was a bit obvious. Was she cross with you?" "Not really. I don't think either of us could really be bothered to go into it." "Because you were trying to browbeat her over what she knew about me." "I didn't browbeat her," He said defensively. "I just probed and prodded until I got the answers I was looking for." George grinned wryly at him. "John, I know what you're like when you get in to full prosecution mode, there's no stopping you." "Just, next time," He said seriously. "Don't keep me in the dark and don't be afraid to tell me."
An hour or so later when John let her quietly out of the digs so that no one would know she'd stayed the night, George felt that, despite the short period of slightly choppy waters, her life might be about to tread an even keel for a while, the balancing forces of John and Karen on either side, with Jo always either in front or behind her, to keep her firmly on course, and to prevent her from sinking below the surface as she'd almost done all those months ago.