Barb 5
I was thinking I had probably punished Goldman enough by the time the porter left, looking bemusedly at the handful of odd coins of various provenance pressed into his palm. I was even thinking that taking the Underground rather than a taxi to the Dorchester may have been a bit over the top.
But then again, I didn't mind blowing Goldman's bank account on the swank hotel. The priceless look on his face was worth it! After all, the man had a reputation back st the precinct for being cheap. And when he refused to hand over his phone when I asked for it, I got mad all over again!
The backache, however, turned the tide. I really had been awfully mean to him. So I did the right thing and offered him one of my super massages. I could feel the tension melting away as a kneaded and rubbed, and I also saw my opportunity to snatch his phone and scurry into the bathroom to call my friend, Georgie.
Locking the door so as not to be disturbed, I called down to the desk and asked them to look up her number. That wasn't difficult. Being Georgie she was well known in all the right circles. They got back to me with a number within a quarter of an hour.
And then when I called her number she answered on the first ring.
"Oh, Barbs! Is it really you? In London you say? What a delightful surprise!"
"Yes, it's me Georgie. Sorry to show up like this without warning, but I am on this book tour, you see, and ..."
"Not another word. I want to see you immediately. I simply won't take no for an answer. Where are you staying, Barbs?"
"The Dorchester."
"Perfect. I will have my man around to pick you up in 10 minutes. I simply can't wait to see you again and hear all about that dreadful thing that happened to you! What was it ... some kind of crucifixion cult you got yourself involved in, wasn't it?"
"Well, I ...."
"Hush, my man is on his way to bring you to me. Go get ready!"
It took me five minutes to freshen up and burst out of the bathroom. Goldman was sitting on the bed waiting, all dressed and grinning happily.
"About time, Barb. You were in there awhile. Did you forget already that we have that interview with the BBC?"
"Oh, sorry Goldman. Georgiana is sending her man over to pick me up in a few minutes. Be a sweety and do the interview without me, ok?"
I planted a kiss on his forehead. He complained about having to do the BBC interview alone. I took a minute or two to placate him, including suggesting that I might get Georgie to join us for dinner with his friend Pritchard (even though I rather doubted she would). Then I tossed him his phone, which he had to dive to catch before it hit the floor, grabbed my bag and slipped out the door.
Georgie's man was there as promised, and whisked me off in a limo to a stately-looking townhouse on an elegant west-end London residential square. I was met at the door by Georgie, who embraced me warmly. We kissed. She held me back at arm's length to look me over.
"Oh Barbs, look at you!" she gushed approvingly.
"And you! haven't changed at all," I gushed back.
She led me inside, passing through the foyer and into a well-furnished sitting room. Seating herself on an overstuffed brown leather Chesterfield, she patted the cushion beside her and said, "Come sit. You an I have so much to talk about. Look! I have tea and biscuits ready here on the table, do help yourself Barbs."
I sat, selected a biscuit and nibbled its edge while she poured us each a cup. Then we talked. I told her about the Bronx Crux murders case, and how I had left Goldman tied to a bed and gotten myself abducted, and crucified naked in an old abandoned factory, and how I might have died if Goldman hadn't come to my rescue. She peppered me with questions and repeatedly expressed sympathy for what I had been through.
Then she regaled me with tales of her recent ribald adventures on a Mediterranean cruise aboard a yacht owned by a rich Arab sheik, and of her many other recent sexual adventures and conquests. Georgie hadn't changed at all! She was insatiable when it came to sex of any kind. Every eligible man she ever took a fancy to ended up in bed with her ... as yet another addition to her wall of trophies!
Eventually she got around to asking me about my relationship with Goldman, and I told her about what had happened in Rome and how I had been exacting merciless revenge on the poor man.
She nodded sympathetically, and while I was talking she moved closer as if to comfort me, but instead she began to open the buttons on the front of my shirt one by one and to murmur little things in my ear about what naughty fun we used to have as roommates back in college.
Then it was a hot kiss on my neck, a playful nibble at my ear, a full kiss on the mouth, followed by a series of rapid kisses down my chest while slipping my shirt and bra strap from my right shoulder.
By the time she deftly slid her hand inside my bra to cup and bare my right breast, taking it into her mouth and gently sucking and teasing my hardened nipple with rapid flicks of her tongue, I was losing it! I gasped, felt that old familiar tantalizing tingle and responded in kind.
It all happened so fast. Before I knew it we were both stretched out naked on the Chesterfield ... she on top of me, bodies locked in tight embrace, our wet pussies pressed together and slipping and sliding up-and-down and from side-to-side as our hips moved and bucked in unison.
Soon my head was thrown straight back, mouth gaping wide ... my sweaty backside alternately sticking to the leather and making a smacking suctioning noise as the tempo of our frenzied humping increased to a wild climax.
As I came ...I held ... white-knuckled ... onto the edges ... of the leather cushions. I gasped and moaned, arched my back ... went all stiff ... collapsed and finished with a long throaty scream of pleasure.
"Like old times, Barbs," she whispered in my ear as we lay side by side panting. I kissed her again and caressingly ran my hand up and down her back. She slid her thigh, still wet with my cum smeared all over it between mine.
We talked, laughed and did it twice more over the next hour or so.
We were even contemplating a fourth time when, suddenly remembering Goldman, I sat bolt upright.
"What time is it Georgie? I just remembered that Goldman was going to set up a dinner tonight with that old acquaintance of his from Scotland Yard!"
"Not another Roberto?" she laughed.
"I really don't know."
"Tell you what, Barbs, let's get dressed and both of us join them for dinner, what do you say?"
"Sure, why not?" I replied, as I was bending over and searching around on the floor for my kinis and bra.