A/N: Betaed by Jen.
Part Eighty-One
After the rehearsal, George drove her father back to her house, and proceeded to cook him dinner. She didn't often come out and say it, and never to the man himself, but she loved her father more than anyone else in the world, and she loved spending some real, quality time with him and just him. When her mother had died, when George was ten, Joe hadn't really known how to deal with his daughter, his wife having done most of the bringing up of George until then. Almost overnight, Joe had been plunged in to the feeling of freefall, having to attempt to deal with his own feelings on his wife's death, and to keep everything as normal as possible for George. He could remember, the way her large, frightened, blue eyes had stared at him as he'd told her, that her mother had been killed in a car crash. She hadn't cried, but had just kept staring at him, at first unwilling to believe that her mother wouldn't ever be coming back. Joe had done his best to pick up the pieces, and all in all, he supposed he hadn't made a bad job of it. George had sunk deep into herself at the time, saying only the bare minimum, and moving round the house like a ghost. Joe had been very worried about her, not knowing how to give her back the vibrant nature she'd once had. But gradually, she had emerged from it, as he had himself, but she'd been older somehow, far older than her nearly eleven years. So, he'd sent her to boarding school, because he wanted her to have a good education, and because she had wanted to go. He could remember picking her up at the end of the first term. She'd looked happier, the shadow of her mother's death not as prominent behind her eyes as it had been.
When they were eating the meal she'd prepared, Joe thought it was time to say what he hadn't said earlier. "I was proud of you today," He said, taking a sip of red wine. George put down her fork and looked at him. "I know it sounds stupid, but I was so scared of not living up to both yours and John's expectation of me." "Yes, I know, but you had no need to be. It brought back a lot of memories for me." "Thirty one years ago I sung Eve," George said contemplatively. "God, that makes me feel old." "I can't believe you'll be fifty next year," He said, clearly teasing her. "Daddy!" She protested through a mouthful of chicken. Then, once she'd swallowed it added, "I'd rather not think about that. I'm not even forty nine yet." "Your birthday's only a couple of months away," Joe replied, thoroughly enjoying his daughter's discomfort. "We'll have to do something special next year." "Don't even think about it," George said firmly. "I intend to stay forty nine for as long as possible." Joe laughed, and then became serious. "Your mother said that when she was twenty nine." "You still miss her, don't you," George said gently, knowing just how lonely her father felt sometimes, though he never said so directly. "Every single day," He said, laying down his own cutlery, his appetite having suddenly diminished. "When you were stood there today, singing your heart out, I kept wishing that your mother had been here to see it, and do you know why? Because you sounded so happy." "Did I?" George was surprised. "Yes, very. You've been happier than I've seen you for years, for quite some time now, and it almost shined out of you when you were singing today." "I am happy," she said, not quite knowing how to explain it to him. "I'll assume that Deed has something to do with it," Joe said cynically. "And would it be such a problem if he did?" George asked guardedly. "Well, just be careful. Admittedly, he must be doing something right to make you look as happy and contented as you have been recently." "You could say that," George said with a smirk, getting him back for teasing her about her age by slightly embarrassing him. "I don't want to know," Joe said firmly. "But just remember how he treated you when you were married." "Daddy, that wasn't just his fault, you know," George said fairly. "We both had a part to play in that little disaster. But it's different now. I can't explain how, it just is." "You do know that he's probably still having something of an on off affair with Jo Mills? And quite what his relationship is with that prison governor, Karen, I think her name is, I don't want to contemplate." "Daddy, John definitely isn't sleeping with Karen, I can promise you that," George said with a smile. "And I know about Jo. You don't have to worry about me, really." "George, I'm your father, and it is therefore my job to worry about you." "I know," She said, briefly touching his hand. "But I'm happy with what I have with John." "That's all right then," He said affectionately. "But if he ever dares hurt you again, he'll have to find a job somewhere where I can't find him."
A good while later, when George had driven her father home, she decided on an impulse to drop in and see John. She felt on a bit of a high from the afternoon's rehearsal, and didn't want to go home to an empty house. Karen was spending the evening catching up on paperwork, so she was out of bounds. Anyway, George knew that tonight, hard, vigorous, very male company was what she wanted. Pulling up outside the judges' digs, she didn't notice Jo's car in the carpark, or she might have driven away again. Walking through the front door, she waved to the doorman who was on the phone, receiving a nod and a smile in return. Mr. Johnson knew George Channing, and knew exactly who she was here to see. As she walked up the stairs and down the long, carpeted corridor, her body tensed in anticipation. She desperately wanted to make love to him like mad, as furious with passion as that last song they'd done this afternoon. Feeling her mouth go dry with the thought, she knocked on the door to John's rooms. When he bade her to enter, she opened the door, a sultry, sexy smile on her face in readiness.
When George walked through the door, the first thing she saw was John, sitting on a very new-looking sofa, with his arms round Jo, both looking as though she'd disturbed what was turning into a very passionate scene. John smiled when he saw her. "Hello," He said, actually sounding pleased to see her. "I wasn't expecting to see you this evening." "Would you rather I go?" George asked, feeling very uncomfortable at intruding. "Of course not," He said, holding out a hand to her. "Come and sit down." "But you..." She stopped, not knowing how to phrase what they'd clearly been in the process of doing. "George, sit down," Jo said firmly, smiling at her embarrassment. Shutting the door behind her, George moved over to the sofa, sitting down on John's other side. "Do you want a drink?" John asked, turning her face towards him. "No thank you," She said, kissing him quickly because of Jo's presence. "I had several glasses of wine with Daddy, and I've got to drive home." "So, how do you think it went this afternoon?" Jo asked, trying to put her at her ease. "Neil Grayling was a surprise," George said, looking meaningfully at John. "Quite why you didn't tell me about him, I've no idea. He's very good though." "Says she," Said Jo with a warm smile. "You certainly opened a few eyes." "I thought I was going to come unstuck in that last one we did," George replied, blushing slightly at Jo's compliment. "Yes," John laughed. "You were wound up so tight, I thought you were going to take off." "That was Daddy's fault for not giving us any warning," George said in disgust. "He was right, though," John said fairly. "Better to show everyone just how far they'll have to go now, rather than springing it on them later." "Oh, yes, and one thing he did tell me, was that he won't be able to be there for the rehearsal in two weeks' time. So, he's asked me to conduct." She said this so innocently, that John was immediately on the alert. "Oh, heaven help us," John said dryly. "You'll make mincemeat of everyone." "Hmm, well, you'll just have to behave then, won't you," George said with a secretive little smile. "Now this, I definitely can't wait to see," Jo said with a laugh. "I'm rather looking forward to having power over so many people at once," George said gleefully. "I bet you are," John said in resigned acceptance. Then, fixing his penetrating gaze on her, he added, "You always did enjoy being in control." George couldn't prevent a tiny gasp leaving her lips, John's actual meaning all too clear. With his arm around her waist, he gently drew her towards him. When their lips met, this time exploring each other's mouths caressingly and lingeringly, George felt the flame reignite deep inside her. Shifting her gaze slightly, George looked straight into Jo's eyes, taking in her soft admiration of what they were doing. When she eventually moved her face away from his, she glanced over at Jo. Jo was smiling at her softly, showing that she didn't in the least mind seeing them do this. As if to affirm how much he loved both of them, John turned his attention to Jo, kissing her in the soft and gentle way he'd kissed George. It touched her to see how beautiful they looked, so complete that she began to think she oughtn't to stay. "You look so beautiful together," She said, unable to stop herself. "No more than you do," Jo said, detaching her lips from John's and giving George her full attention. "I shouldn't really be here," George said, now really feeling as though she was intruding. "Just relax," John said, moving his hand up to touch her cheek. "I have no problem with you being here, George," Jo told her. "And I'm sure John doesn't either." "Are you sure?" George asked, not wanting to take them away from other things they might prefer to be doing. "Yes," John and Jo said together, making her smile.
John was in his element, sat on his very comfortable new sofa, with an arm round the waist of each of his favourite women, listening to some soft music and occasionally talking. He was perfectly content to listen to Jo and George deconstructing the rehearsal, their voices floating over him as the music had done that afternoon. He would gently kiss one or the other of them at intermittent intervals, their different tastes intermingling to turn him on immensely. It was almost child's play to move both his hands slightly upwards from where they currently were, to begin very gently teasing at the under sides of Jo's right breast and George's left. He felt both of them inwardly react to his touch, but neither of them gave any outward sign of their response, simply carrying on talking as if nothing had happened. But as he continued touching them, they both fell silent, the soft, sultry music filling the gap with its incredibly erotic charge. He could feel their nipples hardening under his fingers, and knew that George would be the first one to break the silence. "John, stop it," She said after a while, his touch becoming more than she could stand. "Oh, he's doing that to you too, is he?" Jo asked, her voice taking on a deeper, huskier quality, which George supposed it always did when Jo was aroused. "Why?" John asked. "You can't possibly tell me you don't like it." "It's not that," George said, a blush of sheer embarrassment staining her cheeks. "I like it too much," She added eventually, refusing to look in Jo's direction. "So," John said, trying to calm her down and failing spectacularly. "If an orgasm is what you want, stay and I'll give you one. More than one, if you're lucky." George was mortified. "John, we shouldn't even be having this conversation," She said, moving away from him but remaining seated on the sofa. "Why not?" He persisted. "Jo's in exactly the same position as you are. So, why don't you both stay, and make one of my dreams come true? You know I've always wanted to spend the night with both of you." George recoiled in shock, immediately getting up from the sofa and walking away from him, turning round to stare at him once there was a significant distance between them. "No," She said, quietly but firmly. They could both see the combination of sincere arousal, guilty embarrassment, and total confusion in her face. "Oh, George, don't look like that," John said, sounding a little exasperated. "It was only a suggestion." "And it's one I wish you hadn't made," George said bitterly, feeling the prickling of tears behind her eyelids. "I think I should go." As she turned to the door, pulling it open and closing it quietly though firmly behind her, John made a move to get up and follow her. "Let her go," Jo said quietly, experiencing an enormous amount of feeling for George. "What on earth's got into her?" He said, wholly unwilling to examine his own part in George's feelings. "You mustn't play with her, John, it isn't fair," Jo said reprovingly, though with a certain amount of gentleness in her tone. "What are you talking about?" John demanded. "She loved the idea just as much as I did. You could see it in her face." "Yes," Jo clarified. "Which is precisely why you shouldn't dangle something in front of her that isn't going to happen. I could have told you before you suggested it, that she would find the idea somewhat attractive, but that doesn't mean that you can play with her feelings, just because you fancied having two women at your disposal. George deserves better than that. I couldn't care less what you might suggest in that way, because I know I wouldn't even consider it. But it's different for George."
When George got in the car, she roared out of the carpark of the digs, wanting to put as much distance between her and John as possible. Tears of utter humiliation were running down her cheeks. She knew she would have jumped at the chance of sleeping with both John and Jo, and she knew that they had seen that in her too. When she arrived home, she went straight to bed, almost wanting to hide from her total embarrassment. But lying there, in the dark, under the duvet, she couldn't quite escape the thought of what it might have been like. Would Jo's body be similar to Karen's? Would Jo's mouth be as soft and pliable as Karen's? How would she taste? What would she feel like? Thoroughly unable to settle, she slid her hands down over her body, teasing at her already erect nipples, one hand slipping between her slightly spread legs. She had to relieve her frustration somehow, she just had to. As she touched herself so familiarly, she couldn't get away from the mental picture of John and Jo kissing, of John's hand delicately moving over Jo's breast in the way it had on hers. Did Jo's nipples harden as hers had? Did Jo feel the pulse jumping between her legs in anticipation, just as she had? As her hand sped up, she held onto this picture, seeing John and Jo together right to the end, making her feel utterly humiliated, intensely satisfied, and extremely confused all in one go.
Part Eighty-One
After the rehearsal, George drove her father back to her house, and proceeded to cook him dinner. She didn't often come out and say it, and never to the man himself, but she loved her father more than anyone else in the world, and she loved spending some real, quality time with him and just him. When her mother had died, when George was ten, Joe hadn't really known how to deal with his daughter, his wife having done most of the bringing up of George until then. Almost overnight, Joe had been plunged in to the feeling of freefall, having to attempt to deal with his own feelings on his wife's death, and to keep everything as normal as possible for George. He could remember, the way her large, frightened, blue eyes had stared at him as he'd told her, that her mother had been killed in a car crash. She hadn't cried, but had just kept staring at him, at first unwilling to believe that her mother wouldn't ever be coming back. Joe had done his best to pick up the pieces, and all in all, he supposed he hadn't made a bad job of it. George had sunk deep into herself at the time, saying only the bare minimum, and moving round the house like a ghost. Joe had been very worried about her, not knowing how to give her back the vibrant nature she'd once had. But gradually, she had emerged from it, as he had himself, but she'd been older somehow, far older than her nearly eleven years. So, he'd sent her to boarding school, because he wanted her to have a good education, and because she had wanted to go. He could remember picking her up at the end of the first term. She'd looked happier, the shadow of her mother's death not as prominent behind her eyes as it had been.
When they were eating the meal she'd prepared, Joe thought it was time to say what he hadn't said earlier. "I was proud of you today," He said, taking a sip of red wine. George put down her fork and looked at him. "I know it sounds stupid, but I was so scared of not living up to both yours and John's expectation of me." "Yes, I know, but you had no need to be. It brought back a lot of memories for me." "Thirty one years ago I sung Eve," George said contemplatively. "God, that makes me feel old." "I can't believe you'll be fifty next year," He said, clearly teasing her. "Daddy!" She protested through a mouthful of chicken. Then, once she'd swallowed it added, "I'd rather not think about that. I'm not even forty nine yet." "Your birthday's only a couple of months away," Joe replied, thoroughly enjoying his daughter's discomfort. "We'll have to do something special next year." "Don't even think about it," George said firmly. "I intend to stay forty nine for as long as possible." Joe laughed, and then became serious. "Your mother said that when she was twenty nine." "You still miss her, don't you," George said gently, knowing just how lonely her father felt sometimes, though he never said so directly. "Every single day," He said, laying down his own cutlery, his appetite having suddenly diminished. "When you were stood there today, singing your heart out, I kept wishing that your mother had been here to see it, and do you know why? Because you sounded so happy." "Did I?" George was surprised. "Yes, very. You've been happier than I've seen you for years, for quite some time now, and it almost shined out of you when you were singing today." "I am happy," she said, not quite knowing how to explain it to him. "I'll assume that Deed has something to do with it," Joe said cynically. "And would it be such a problem if he did?" George asked guardedly. "Well, just be careful. Admittedly, he must be doing something right to make you look as happy and contented as you have been recently." "You could say that," George said with a smirk, getting him back for teasing her about her age by slightly embarrassing him. "I don't want to know," Joe said firmly. "But just remember how he treated you when you were married." "Daddy, that wasn't just his fault, you know," George said fairly. "We both had a part to play in that little disaster. But it's different now. I can't explain how, it just is." "You do know that he's probably still having something of an on off affair with Jo Mills? And quite what his relationship is with that prison governor, Karen, I think her name is, I don't want to contemplate." "Daddy, John definitely isn't sleeping with Karen, I can promise you that," George said with a smile. "And I know about Jo. You don't have to worry about me, really." "George, I'm your father, and it is therefore my job to worry about you." "I know," She said, briefly touching his hand. "But I'm happy with what I have with John." "That's all right then," He said affectionately. "But if he ever dares hurt you again, he'll have to find a job somewhere where I can't find him."
A good while later, when George had driven her father home, she decided on an impulse to drop in and see John. She felt on a bit of a high from the afternoon's rehearsal, and didn't want to go home to an empty house. Karen was spending the evening catching up on paperwork, so she was out of bounds. Anyway, George knew that tonight, hard, vigorous, very male company was what she wanted. Pulling up outside the judges' digs, she didn't notice Jo's car in the carpark, or she might have driven away again. Walking through the front door, she waved to the doorman who was on the phone, receiving a nod and a smile in return. Mr. Johnson knew George Channing, and knew exactly who she was here to see. As she walked up the stairs and down the long, carpeted corridor, her body tensed in anticipation. She desperately wanted to make love to him like mad, as furious with passion as that last song they'd done this afternoon. Feeling her mouth go dry with the thought, she knocked on the door to John's rooms. When he bade her to enter, she opened the door, a sultry, sexy smile on her face in readiness.
When George walked through the door, the first thing she saw was John, sitting on a very new-looking sofa, with his arms round Jo, both looking as though she'd disturbed what was turning into a very passionate scene. John smiled when he saw her. "Hello," He said, actually sounding pleased to see her. "I wasn't expecting to see you this evening." "Would you rather I go?" George asked, feeling very uncomfortable at intruding. "Of course not," He said, holding out a hand to her. "Come and sit down." "But you..." She stopped, not knowing how to phrase what they'd clearly been in the process of doing. "George, sit down," Jo said firmly, smiling at her embarrassment. Shutting the door behind her, George moved over to the sofa, sitting down on John's other side. "Do you want a drink?" John asked, turning her face towards him. "No thank you," She said, kissing him quickly because of Jo's presence. "I had several glasses of wine with Daddy, and I've got to drive home." "So, how do you think it went this afternoon?" Jo asked, trying to put her at her ease. "Neil Grayling was a surprise," George said, looking meaningfully at John. "Quite why you didn't tell me about him, I've no idea. He's very good though." "Says she," Said Jo with a warm smile. "You certainly opened a few eyes." "I thought I was going to come unstuck in that last one we did," George replied, blushing slightly at Jo's compliment. "Yes," John laughed. "You were wound up so tight, I thought you were going to take off." "That was Daddy's fault for not giving us any warning," George said in disgust. "He was right, though," John said fairly. "Better to show everyone just how far they'll have to go now, rather than springing it on them later." "Oh, yes, and one thing he did tell me, was that he won't be able to be there for the rehearsal in two weeks' time. So, he's asked me to conduct." She said this so innocently, that John was immediately on the alert. "Oh, heaven help us," John said dryly. "You'll make mincemeat of everyone." "Hmm, well, you'll just have to behave then, won't you," George said with a secretive little smile. "Now this, I definitely can't wait to see," Jo said with a laugh. "I'm rather looking forward to having power over so many people at once," George said gleefully. "I bet you are," John said in resigned acceptance. Then, fixing his penetrating gaze on her, he added, "You always did enjoy being in control." George couldn't prevent a tiny gasp leaving her lips, John's actual meaning all too clear. With his arm around her waist, he gently drew her towards him. When their lips met, this time exploring each other's mouths caressingly and lingeringly, George felt the flame reignite deep inside her. Shifting her gaze slightly, George looked straight into Jo's eyes, taking in her soft admiration of what they were doing. When she eventually moved her face away from his, she glanced over at Jo. Jo was smiling at her softly, showing that she didn't in the least mind seeing them do this. As if to affirm how much he loved both of them, John turned his attention to Jo, kissing her in the soft and gentle way he'd kissed George. It touched her to see how beautiful they looked, so complete that she began to think she oughtn't to stay. "You look so beautiful together," She said, unable to stop herself. "No more than you do," Jo said, detaching her lips from John's and giving George her full attention. "I shouldn't really be here," George said, now really feeling as though she was intruding. "Just relax," John said, moving his hand up to touch her cheek. "I have no problem with you being here, George," Jo told her. "And I'm sure John doesn't either." "Are you sure?" George asked, not wanting to take them away from other things they might prefer to be doing. "Yes," John and Jo said together, making her smile.
John was in his element, sat on his very comfortable new sofa, with an arm round the waist of each of his favourite women, listening to some soft music and occasionally talking. He was perfectly content to listen to Jo and George deconstructing the rehearsal, their voices floating over him as the music had done that afternoon. He would gently kiss one or the other of them at intermittent intervals, their different tastes intermingling to turn him on immensely. It was almost child's play to move both his hands slightly upwards from where they currently were, to begin very gently teasing at the under sides of Jo's right breast and George's left. He felt both of them inwardly react to his touch, but neither of them gave any outward sign of their response, simply carrying on talking as if nothing had happened. But as he continued touching them, they both fell silent, the soft, sultry music filling the gap with its incredibly erotic charge. He could feel their nipples hardening under his fingers, and knew that George would be the first one to break the silence. "John, stop it," She said after a while, his touch becoming more than she could stand. "Oh, he's doing that to you too, is he?" Jo asked, her voice taking on a deeper, huskier quality, which George supposed it always did when Jo was aroused. "Why?" John asked. "You can't possibly tell me you don't like it." "It's not that," George said, a blush of sheer embarrassment staining her cheeks. "I like it too much," She added eventually, refusing to look in Jo's direction. "So," John said, trying to calm her down and failing spectacularly. "If an orgasm is what you want, stay and I'll give you one. More than one, if you're lucky." George was mortified. "John, we shouldn't even be having this conversation," She said, moving away from him but remaining seated on the sofa. "Why not?" He persisted. "Jo's in exactly the same position as you are. So, why don't you both stay, and make one of my dreams come true? You know I've always wanted to spend the night with both of you." George recoiled in shock, immediately getting up from the sofa and walking away from him, turning round to stare at him once there was a significant distance between them. "No," She said, quietly but firmly. They could both see the combination of sincere arousal, guilty embarrassment, and total confusion in her face. "Oh, George, don't look like that," John said, sounding a little exasperated. "It was only a suggestion." "And it's one I wish you hadn't made," George said bitterly, feeling the prickling of tears behind her eyelids. "I think I should go." As she turned to the door, pulling it open and closing it quietly though firmly behind her, John made a move to get up and follow her. "Let her go," Jo said quietly, experiencing an enormous amount of feeling for George. "What on earth's got into her?" He said, wholly unwilling to examine his own part in George's feelings. "You mustn't play with her, John, it isn't fair," Jo said reprovingly, though with a certain amount of gentleness in her tone. "What are you talking about?" John demanded. "She loved the idea just as much as I did. You could see it in her face." "Yes," Jo clarified. "Which is precisely why you shouldn't dangle something in front of her that isn't going to happen. I could have told you before you suggested it, that she would find the idea somewhat attractive, but that doesn't mean that you can play with her feelings, just because you fancied having two women at your disposal. George deserves better than that. I couldn't care less what you might suggest in that way, because I know I wouldn't even consider it. But it's different for George."
When George got in the car, she roared out of the carpark of the digs, wanting to put as much distance between her and John as possible. Tears of utter humiliation were running down her cheeks. She knew she would have jumped at the chance of sleeping with both John and Jo, and she knew that they had seen that in her too. When she arrived home, she went straight to bed, almost wanting to hide from her total embarrassment. But lying there, in the dark, under the duvet, she couldn't quite escape the thought of what it might have been like. Would Jo's body be similar to Karen's? Would Jo's mouth be as soft and pliable as Karen's? How would she taste? What would she feel like? Thoroughly unable to settle, she slid her hands down over her body, teasing at her already erect nipples, one hand slipping between her slightly spread legs. She had to relieve her frustration somehow, she just had to. As she touched herself so familiarly, she couldn't get away from the mental picture of John and Jo kissing, of John's hand delicately moving over Jo's breast in the way it had on hers. Did Jo's nipples harden as hers had? Did Jo feel the pulse jumping between her legs in anticipation, just as she had? As her hand sped up, she held onto this picture, seeing John and Jo together right to the end, making her feel utterly humiliated, intensely satisfied, and extremely confused all in one go.