Thursday, 21 June 2012

An Antidote To Writers Block (Part 04) Raising The Dead

It was the first week in June when I found myself sitting in the reception at Collins, Hooper and Petersen, the firm of Solicitors handling my late Uncles estate.
I wasn’t there for anything specific it just happened that I was up in London for the day.
I had an important lunchtime meeting with my publishers and a less important Dinner meeting with my agent so as I was left with some time to kill and as I was roughly in their neck of the woods I thought I would just sandwich them in the middle and pop in to make sure they weren’t dragging their heels.
It was a case of out of sight out of mind with these people, although they always remembered you when money was due.
Anyway I sat there for about an hour waiting for Ms Petersen to become available, whom I presumed to be some Manish ball breaker who enjoyed keeping people waiting.
Any way when I saw an attractive woman, tall and slender in her early thirties wearing a tailored business suit and spectacles, I thought to myself she must be Ms Petersen’s personal assistant.
“Mr. Fisher? She said holding out her hand “sorry to keep you waiting”
I took the offered hand, which she gripped firmly
“Camilla Petersen, so pleased to meet you”
“Like wise, please call me Simon”
She smiled broadly and said
“Would you like to come through then Simon?”
She led the way and I followed on, the receptionist caught me staring at Ms Petersen’s rather delightful arse.
She frowned at me; I just shrugged and carried on looking at the rolling buttocks.
I spent a very pleasant hour with the very un-Manish Ms Petersen who might still be a ball breaker but not in the way I first thought
We went through the papers and she assured me that everything would be tied up with a bow in the coming few weeks.
I must admit that I didn’t take in every thing she was saying, due to a combination of the posh plummy tones of her voice which I found very seductive, always a turn on, the very horny way she peered over the top of her specs and the fact she was very pleasing on the eye and I’ve always had a soft spot for posh tottie.
When she leant over the desk I could stare down her blouse and when she was sat back I could stare at her magnificent long legs. But when she walked about the room I could feast my eyes on everything in turn.
Anyway the time came to leave and we shook hands again and I thought I wouldn’t want her grip my old chap that tight or would I?
I turned and walked past the receptionist who gave me a disdainful look so I looked down her top at her quite pleasing rack restrained in a pink satin bra, and when she realized I was staring at her baps she quickly covered her self up and let out a rather disgusted exclamation.
I laughed out loud.

The Dinner meeting was just as tedious as I thought it would be,
Agents are all cast in the same mould, they all talk big, make ludicrous forecasts of your prospects, name drop shamelessly and squeeze every penny out of their clients as is humanly possible and I’m sure that mine, newly acquired though he is, is no exception.
He chose a trendy nouvelle cuisine restaurant off Regents Street serving high flavour, low-calorie, and substance lacking dishes, where minor celebrities are known to dine.
The food was good, if you like tiny artistic arrangements the size of a Hors d'oeuvre, on a slab of welsh slate but you cant live on it.
When it was time to leave I was hungrier than I was when I arrived, and even though he made a big show about buying me such a “wonderful” Dinner I knew he had probably already figured out a way of claiming it as a legitimate business expense for himself while actually stiffing me with the bill.
I stopped at the first fast food joint that I came to which happened to be a Burger King and I ordered the biggest one I could see on the menu.
Having sufficiently filled the hollow with reconstituted meat, saturated fats and carbohydrates I ambled my way to my hotel.
I would have liked to stay at the Langham but it was a bit rich for my blood so I found a place close by for a third of the price.

I was sitting at the bar at St Gregory’s Hotel, drinking a large Gin and Tonic and doing a spot of people watching, an occupational hazard for writers, but the bar was so empty that I exhausted that exercise in less than five minutes.
So I turned my thoughts to Georgia, my lovely brunette girlfriend who would be home from University in a couple of days and I was looking forward to spending some quality time expanding her sexual horizons.
And it was just when I was preoccupied replaying a particularly salacious scenario in my head when a voice broke in.
“Simon Fisher?” it said
I turned around and the voice belonged to an attractive looking woman, pretty face, blue eyes, soft shoulder length brown hair, 5t 3 or 4, early thirties, nice figure, wearing a black cocktail dress, thick black tights and heels, whom I didn’t recognize
Clearly some woman that I’d slept with at some time and the encounter was so unmemorable I instantly forgot her, how embarrassing.
So I tried to picture her dressed in a different out fit, casual wear, uniform or work clothes and then it registered.
“Dr Andrews” I replied, not a woman I had slept with and then forgotten phew she was my GP.
“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked.
“Not at all” I said “please” and gestured to the neighboring stool.
“Can I get you a drink?” I asked
“Thank you, yes,” she said and to the barman who had miraculously appeared “White wine please”
“And for you sir?” he asked
“I’ll have the same again please”
While we waited for our drinks she asked
“How’s the knee Simon?”
“It’s very good, no problems at all Doctor”
“That’s good, now please call me Claire, I try to play down the Doctor bit when I’m out, otherwise people have an annoying habit of telling me about their complaints.
And she laughed a rather delightful laugh.
That was when I noticed the wedding ring, which is to me what Kryptonite is to Superman.
I have a strict rule about fishing in another mans pond, a rule which I have only on a handful of occasions broken; I took a moment to think of one such recent occasion with the lovely Pandora.
But I thought there is nothing wrong with having a drink with a beautiful woman and indulging in some polite conversation.
So over a drink or three I explained how I ended up at St Gregory’s after several boring meetings and she told me about the cocktail party for a retiring colleague at the Portland Hospital.
And in slightly hushed tones we both said we would have preferred to be staying at the Langham.
I also found out that she didn’t get out and socialize much due to her husband’s illness, she didn’t go into details but it was serious and chronic, I didn’t press her further.
By the time we got to the fourth drink we were the only two customers left and we were getting a bit loud.
“Do you really have a literary agent”? She asked
I nodded superciliously
“My receptionist says you write mucky books” Claire stated and laughed loudly.
“We all have to make a living”
It was shortly after that we got the distinct impression the barman had had enough even if we hadn’t.
The convention is that the staff is obliged to keep the bar open all the while guests are wanting a drink but in reality they had to close at some point and you could still get a drink from the night porter if you wanted a nightcap.
So we bade the long-suffering barman a good night, even though it was almost 3 am and headed, somewhat unsteadily towards our rooms.
Accompanied by raucous laughter we stumbled into the lift and unable to press the button for the floor that we actually wanted we decided to hit them all.
When we reached the third floor Claire announced
“This is me, I am home”
I was on the forth floor myself but the code of chivalry dictated
What I must do.
“I will see you to your door dear lady” I said attempting a bow
“You are too kind Sir Knight” she responded trying to curtsy.
I walked Claire rather unsteadily to her door and once she had managed to finally use the swipe card correctly and open the door she announced.
“Nightcap” and before I had chance to decline Claire dragged me into the room where after some intense negotiations it was decided that coffee was the order of the day.
The room was very nice, quite spacious, much the same as my own I imagined though I hadn’t actually seen it.
I had the porter take my bag up to the room for me and I went straight in the bar.
Claire had kicked of her shoes and was sitting on the sofa with her legs up and I was facing her, also shoeless, sat on a Regency stripped chair that I had pulled out from under the desk.
So we sat there in her room drinking copious amounts of coffee and chatting, during the course of the conversation she elaborated a little further about her husband’s illness.
He had been in a very serious car crash some 9 years earlier and was severely, physically and mentally disabled.
She tried to tell me more but tears started to well up in her eyes and then they ran down her cheeks as she sobbed.
So Mr. Chivalry again stepped into action. I knelt on the floor beside her and offered myself up to comfort her with arms open wide “I’m sorry” she said gratefully accepting my open arms and burying her tearstained face in his neck.
I made encouraging noises and stroked her back but being a shoulder to cry on was the full extent of my expertise.
We held that position for some time until Claire’s sobs began to get shallower and shallower and eventually abated.
But still she held on to me tightly and began to nuzzle my neck and I could feel her breath on my skin, which is when the beast, who had been content to rest easy in my pants all evening, stirred and opened his eye.
It appeared that Kryptonite was not what it used to be.
While still nuzzling my neck her hands began to caress up and down my back and her nuzzles turned to kisses.
I reciprocated the caresses and in an instant her mouth was on mine.
Her lips were soft, her mouth was hot and her tongue was electric.
Claire’s hands began to claw at my shirt dragging it free of my waistband then with great urgency she pulled her self up so she was seated in front of me as her fingers fumbled at my shirt buttons. When she had accomplished her task she almost ripped the shirt off my back.
Then those trembling hands were on my flesh and she sighed and exhaled through her nose.
I had one hand on the zip of her dress and tugged it down without ceremony while my other hand pulled the dress off her shoulder reluctantly she released her grip on my torso long enough to allow her dress to fall to her waist, she quickly wriggled her arms free of the sleeves and they returned to their previous task.
Her kissing became more intense as I turned my attention to her bra and released the fastener between the cups and replaced the black lace with my hands.
She snorted though her nose as I toyed with her stiffening nipples.
I pushed her backwards onto the sofa and broke my lips away from her mouth and quickly transferred my affections to her dark pink teats sucking on them like a hungry child as my hand began its trek along the inside of her thigh, only the 70 denier fabric of her black tights between me and the silky skin of her inner thigh.
I loved the feel of the fabric against my palm; it felt warm and welcoming in its density.
I didn’t like tights that stretched so far they became opaque and they felt course and cheap.
I know for a pervert I’m very fussy but what can I say? I like what I like.
So as my hand crept up ever-higher Claire’s firm thighs opened and closed in anticipation and she moaned quietly as her buttocks squirmed on the sofa, her breaths becoming deep and erratic.
Then I had reached Shangri-La I could feel the heat from her pussy and as I looked down at her she was in a frenzy, her head was rolling back and forth, she was biting her lip and pulling her hair.
I returned to her breasts, which were rising and falling and I could hear her heart pounding in her chest.
I stopped sucking on her tits again choosing instead to watch her as I reached the heart of her fire and I fingered her though her tights they fabric slipping and sliding on her wet gash until her cream oozed through the fabric, Claire wriggled beneath my hand and moaned like a whore.
Claire’s hands gripped the edges of the sofa until her knuckles whitened and her panting came in course rasping breaths until she cried out in orgasm.
I reached up under her dress with both hands and smartly yanked the tights from her arse and down her thighs, then I went up there again for her pants this time she obliged me by lifting her arse off the sofa, the black lace rolled easily off her buttocks but as I tugged her wet knickers from her crotch they made a sharp ripping sound like a plaster being removed.
The action simultaneously making Claire gasp and my cock involuntarily twitch.
I then pulled them all the way off one leg and holding that leg by the ankle I began kissing her all the way down her leg so I could give her a thorough muffing.
I got as far as the back of her knee when she said
“Oh God I’m ready Simon” she panted
“Please don’t make me wait,” she begged
So I hurriedly undid my trousers and bared my throbbing dick
Her legs were spread wide to receive me, a neatly clipped triangle of brunette pussy hair pointing the way towards the dewy pink lips of her waiting cunny.
I slid my hands down her outer thighs until I had her buttock in hand and then I thrust my cock into her grateful cunt which was like wearing a warm sheath of liquid velvet, Claire let out a low animal growl which excited me greatly.
And with each successive length I gave her she exhaled a low animal grunt
My hands left her buttocks and moved to her breast
Her legs were around me now and the grunts were turning to squeals and yelps.
The strokes were getting shorter
The squeals were turning to moans
Quicker and quicker
Her moans more urgent more guttural more animals
Faster and faster
Louder and louder
Writhing and wriggling
Quicker and quicker
Louder and louder
And then crescendo.
Claire’s whole body seemed to be in spasm before me as I emptied into her pulsing and twitching.
I fell forward and her arms went round be like a sprung trap and she kissed me wetly on the mouth, which I reciprocated.
I was about to withdraw from her cunny when she said
“No don’t take it out yet,” she begged
“It’s been so long since I had a man inside me, leave it in me a while longer Simon”
So I obliged and we just lay there entwined.

“I could be struck off,” Claire said as she lay on the sofa, the front of her dress now pulled down to cover her modesty and her fanny,
The top lying loosely over her breasts and bizarrely her tights and knickers were still in a tangle around her ankle
I was sat on the regency striped chair mostly naked my trousers and pants still around my ankles which I didn’t think bizarre at all.
“I’ll stroke you off if you like,” I volunteered
“No I mean it. I could be struck off for sleeping with a patient,” she said earnestly
“Well we’ll just have to stay awake then” I offered
“It’s the staying awake part that you get struck off for”
There was silence for a few moments
“How long?” I asked
“You said, “It’s been so long since I had a man inside me””
“How long?”
“9 years” she replied
“What ever since your husband’s accident”?
Then she suddenly sat up and knelt in front of me and kissed me.
“No regrets though” she said
“Not on my part either” I said
Then she started pulling my pants and trousers off followed by my socks and then I was completely naked
Claire smiled warmly at me and kissed me as her fingers started caressing my flaccid member.
“I thought you were worried about being struck off”
“I’ll only get struck off once, no matter how many times we do it”
“Fair enough”
My manhood was now wide-awake and she was tugging gently on my shaft.
Her lips left mine and moved immediately to my cock.
Her tongue feathering my purple head before devouring me in one delightful mouthful.
“Oh Honey that’s so good” I said
She was giving me such great head for someone who had been on the bench for 9 years it was truly outstanding.
I remembered thinking as she gobbled me that it must be muscle memory. It was certainly something my muscle and me would remember for some time.
She sucked me back to life producing a wonderful boner
Well I suppose Orthopedics was her field, so bones were her specialty.
As her mouth left me and she stood up she prepared to climb aboard my cock still moist with her saliva and standing tall and proud due to her oral attentions.
The front of her dress had flopped down exposing her beautiful breasts and her lacy black bra was still loosely around her shoulders like a redundant shoulder holster.
I halted her progress with an outstretched hand.
“I want you completely naked”
She quickly complied, wriggling out of her dress and discarding her bra with a shrug.
Her tights remained attached to her ankle but I let that go as the resulting vision before me made my cock twitch in anticipation.
I gave her a smile and she climbed on my lap and slithered down me and as she did Claire let out a long breathy sigh.
She wrapped her arms tightly around my neck and hooked her heels around the chair legs and then rode me on the chair, pounding on my shaft with her velvety wet pussy, her pelvis pumping on my piston frenetically.
My hands gripped her firm buttocks as they rose and fell on me her squeals and moans in my ear through gritted teeth growing in intensity as the pace quickened.
Faster, faster
Louder, louder
Until she came with an animal yell and I pulsed inside her as I ejaculated.
I stayed in her again and I could feel her pussy hugging my cock.

As we lay stretched out in the bath together, Claire was lying back against my chest, I remember thinking you couldn’t do this at a Travel Lodge.
Claire had loosely tied her hair up to keep it out of the water and I kissed her neck her breasts were under the water but her nipples kept breaking the surface.
It was a very relaxing bath and I was glad Claire had persuaded me to share one with her before bed.
“Its strange isn’t it?” she said suddenly
“What is”? I asked
“Well I haven’t been unfaithful to my husband in 9 years and then I do it three times in one crazy night”
“We only did it twice unless I missed something”
“I know, but the night is young,”
We got out the bath and began drying each other
“Now I’m all clean so you could get me dirty again” she said and kissed me.
I had been sitting on the edge of the bath drying her legs but I dropped her towel and slip my hand between her legs and fingered her crack I couldn’t believe it she was creamed already
“We could do it again couldn’t we” she said
“You could certainly,” I said exposing my limp member; I explained that he needs to recharge his batteries before he can go again.
She snorted
“Show some respect for my fallen hero,” I scolded
“Sod that” and she went to her medical bag.
She rummaged in the bag for a few minutes before her hand immerged holding a large blue capsule, which she handed to him.
“What is it?” I asked
“Viagra with attitude” I sometimes get given stuff by pharmaceutical reps.
“Is it safe?”
I took the pill and we continued drying each other while we awaited lift off.

We sat on the edge of the bed kissing; Claire’s hand was on my cock, which was really reluctant to join the party.
“Just be patient,” she whispered softly
And I could feel the beginnings of life returning to my stricken soldier, she too could feel its rebirth and her kisses were becoming more intense, slowly but surely life was returning and he was now able to stand unsupported but Claire’s hand still busied itself playing with my shaft.
Then like Lazarus it rose fully from the dead and as its purple head emerged from its pink cocoon the resurrecting was complete.
Not only was my cock now up and throbbing but I could feel the blood pumping through my veins and I felt fantastic.
“Lift off” I said and she laughed.
She turned away to crawl onto the bed but I grabbed her hips and held her firmly as I plunged my pulsating cock between her moist pink lips.
“Oh yes do me like that” she rasped
So I banged into her again and again.
She was moaning and grunting like an animal I felt invigorated?
I could have gone on and on and on.
Claire came loudly but I kept on.
She came again much louder this time and collapsed on the bed
“I don’t think I can go on Simon”
I rolled her over onto her back and said
“You loaded the gun Doc now you have to let me fire it”
And I slipped into her again and fucked her hard, stroke after stroke after stroke.
Until she let out a long loud orgasmic scream as I spaffed into her.
She lay on the bed covered in sweat panting hard and licking her lips.
“Well that was worth doing “ she said between pants and laughed.
Then came an urgent knock on the door, she got up unsteadily to her feet and she laughed again.
Then there was another loud knock on the door.
I had to help her into her dressing gown and then wrapped a towel around my self.
There was a third knock just as Claire turned the handle.
It was the receptionist, Summer, according to her badge, and behind her the concierge.
“Is everything alright madam?”
“Oh God yes” Claire answered still a little wobbly.
“Somebody reported hearing screaming coming from your room”
“Yes sorry, that was me” she said coyly
“We were…”
“And I um … you know …. Rather loudly”
Summer suddenly realized what Claire was getting at and blushed.
“Ah I see” Summer said, “ok I understand”
“Perhaps you could try to keep the noise down”
Just before Claire closed the door I heard the concierge ask
“What was that all about?”
“The lucky cow was coming” Summer replied jealously
Then the door closed and Claire laughed and hugged me
It was seven o’clock when we finally went to bed and slept for a few hours.

Embarrassingly Summer was still on reception when we checked out at lunchtime and it seemed that every head in the St Gregory’s Hotel lobby had turned to watch us leave.
The concierge gave us both a wry smile as h held open the door for us.
Once out side we both laughed.
“Well that’s one Hotel I can never stay at again,” Claire said

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