Chapter 8 – New Projects

Louise gave Bobby directions to her house. It was in an exclusive street near the Park, and as soon as she told him the name, he almost hyper-ventilated.

As they approached he saw that a sturdy wall surrounded it, and hefty gates were closed against the drive. He stopped, and Louise climbed out to press her thumb against an entry pad. The gates opened and they drove inside.

The house was Art Deco – a favourite period of Bobby’s – and was large but understated. The white stucco walls were immaculate. There was a flat roof which appeared to have a lushly-planted terrace. Another thumb-pad gave them entry into the impressive hall. It was lined in maple and a staircase swept up to a gallery with geometric balustrade. On the walls were a few well-spaced paintings by identifiable masters from several periods.

Bobby didn’t know if he was surprised, disappointed or delighted. He loved the house. But it seemed incongruous that a woman like Louise Gardner would hang on to the family mansion and all the trappings of wealth it contained.

As if she read his mind, Louise smiled and said, “It’s my only indulgence. My great-grandfather built it, and though his grandchildren didn’t let me share in it, I still feel connected when I’m here.” She paused and looked at him, then felt the need to add, “It’s not as if keeping this means withholding funds from the various projects.” Damn, it sounded like weak justification. She had lost his respect. If she had to sell the house to get that back, she would. She just hoped it wasn’t too late.

Bobby turned her comments over in his mind, and they made sense. This house was all she really knew about her family. Of course she couldn’t sell it.
“It’s beautiful,” he said. “I don’t think I’d sell it if it were mine.”
Relieved, she offered him the tour of the house.

For the next half hour they went from room to room and indulged themselves in the beauty of the house and its contents. From the lounge, four sets of french windows led into a large garden with ponds, fountains and, surprisingly, a few modern additions, like a bank of solar panels, disguised by clever planting. There was a pool house, and behind a wall stood a smaller building.

“That was built by my great-grandfather to get his children out of the house. Apparently they just wouldn’t move out! There was a separate annexe for the servants, but I had it dismantled and moved to another site so that the small house would have a garden. It’s where my housekeeper and her husband, the groundsman, live with their two children.”

“Only you would dedicate such a house to your employees,” said Bobby, in a tone that he hoped she realised was approving.

“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s just the right thing. The house I had dismantled and moved? It’s out near the rest of their family, and when they want to retire, it’s theirs.”
Finally Louise took Bobby upstairs. The master suite had another bank of french windows, this time opening on to the terrace he’s seen from the drive. It was a beautiful private haven. Louise pulled open a wardrobe and unhooked a red blouse and some black jeans. “Red makes me feel slutty,” she said. She undid the tie Bobby had strung round her waist and slid out of the shirt. Releasing her thong, she stood in the thigh-high black leather boots and nothing else.

How could a man stand it? Bobby moaned and covered the floor in two strides. He swept her up and in two more he stretched her on the bed and, pausing only to rip off his own encumbrances, he was beside her, and exploring her, pleasuring her, entering her and thrusting his way to another mind-blowing orgasm.

They lay companionably on the huge bed, caressing, kissing, moaning their pleasure, but unable to utter a word. It was a full ten minutes before either of them was compos mentis again.

I have to do this, thought Bobby. I can’t let this go on without saying this to her.
“Louise,” he whispered into her ear, his breath making her body vibrate with longing, “I have to say something to you, but I’m not sure how you’ll take it.”

Suddenly, her heart seemed to stop. He was going to tell her there was someone else. Or that he wasn’t the kind to commit. Or that he didn’t really find her attractive. Or that the house – damn the house!

Trembling, her voice shaking, she took a deep breath and said, “OK, I’m ready.” LIAR! She would never be ready for this brush-off.

Smooching her cheek, Bobby said, “I love you.”

She almost screamed with relief, with joy. Tears filled her eyes. “I love you too,” she said.

He kissed her all over her face, licked away her salty tears, and working his way down to her sensitive spots (Lord, did any woman ever have so many sensitive spots?) he brought her to a climax to end all climaxes. As their bodies joined again, they repeated their words of love. Neither one could believe they had finally found happiness. Each vowed to make sure this little corner of heaven would be theirs forever.

Much later, as the sun began to sink below the horizon, they showered again and dressed. They had missed a meal along the way, and with so much exertion, they were feeling very hungry. Bobby’s love for cooking suited Louise fine – she had no love of the culinary arts – and as they sat down to the finest omelette she had ever eaten, they began tentatively to discuss the future.

“Have you had any thoughts about the next project we might develop?” Bobby asked.
“I have a few ideas rattling round in my excuse for a brain,” she replied. “One possibility is to start a well-digging programme in some of the neediest parts of Africa.”

“Sounds great,” said Bobby. “But I have one that I think you might enjoy planning.”
She looked at him with a thoughtful frown, then a smile. “Can’t wait to hear it,” she said.

“It’s our wedding,” said Bobby. “Will you marry me?”
Bobby was sure that the shriek followed by her dropping her knife and fork and rushing round the table to throw her arms round his neck was a “Yes”.



On Bobby’s 80th birthday, his family gathered round to celebrate in fitting style. His daughter Alexandra, a human rights lawyer, had brought his eldest grandchild, a sweet little girl called Francesca, along with her husband, a civil engineer specialising in large-scale projects in developing countries. His son Danny, who worked as a doctor in a free clinic, and frequently flew to trouble spots around the world with Medecins Sans Frontieres, came with his pregnant fiancé and their little boy Jimmy.

Bobby’s former partner, Alex Eames, brought along her husband Tom, the retired manager of a community project downtown, and her two grown children. Julie was studying for a PhD at Columbia and Joe had taken over the reins from his dad.
Bobby and Alex spoke wistfully of their days in Major Case, but in the end agreed that their days of public service had taken the right turn when they left. Life had been more fulfilling After Major Case.

Chapter 7 – Pain

Louise reluctantly pushed Bobby off her and on to his back beside her. She looked down at his huge, erect penis and thought, “What have I let myself in for? This is going to hurt.”

She ran her hand along his thick shaft, then grasping it at its base, she lowered her face and wrapped her lips around the tip. With her tongue she explored and with her lips she gripped, but she knew she could not take him entirely in her mouth. He was massive, she would gag.

Ever-sensitive, Bobby understood her tentativeness. “Don’t worry,” he said. He reached towards the drawer of his night stand and, opening it, he grabbed a condom. She stayed his hand. That’s OK,” she said. He knew he should enquire further, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

Rolling back on top of her, he again parted her, and began to slide inside her. He was slow and gentle, but it wasn’t long before he felt the resistance of her hymen, and saw the tears in the corners of her eyes as she bit back the pain. He stopped. She shook her head, looking into his concerned eyes. “It’s now or never,” she said, “and I don’t want it to be never.”

He forced his way deep within her as carefully as he could until his full length was submerged in her. Slowly, gently, he began to thrust. She gripped him, desperate to find a way to tolerate the pain. He kissed her, and his tongue mirrored above what his cock was doing below. Gradually the tempo picked up, until he was thrusting ever faster, and soon (too soon, he wanted it to last forever!) his body juddered in an orgasm such as he couldn’t remember experiencing before.

He remained inside her as he subsided, giving her soft kisses on the lips, nose, eyelids. When he finally withdrew, he saw that there was blood, and guilt coursed through him. He lay beside her for a while, his arm around her, pulling her across his torso. Then, kissing her forehead, he slid from the bed and went to the bathroom, returning with towels, some damp, some dry. Carefully he cleaned first her, then himself. Then he swapped the covers for the ones in the guest room, while she lay there watching him, breathing slowly and seemingly perfectly relaxed. In fact she was facing a huge internal battle with her modesty.

When he was finished, Bobby brought them each a glass of chilled white wine. They lay propped up in bed, as close as they could be, sipping and cuddling.

“I understand why I’m attracted to you,” Bobby said. “But I’m damned if I can see why I appeal to you. I’m glad I seem to, though.”

Louise smiled and rubbed her head into his chest. Raising a hand to his broad shoulders, she said, “There isn’t one thing about you that I don’t adore. Don’t be so modest. You’re handsome, kind, loving, and very very masculine. You’re the kind of Alpha Male a woman dreams of finding. I just can’t believe my luck in finding you.”

At last they snuggled down and, with Bobby’s arms around Louise, spooning in the traditional way, they fell asleep. Bobby awoke a few times during the night, and felt as if he would like to make love to her again, but he knew she would be sore, so he let her sleep.

Next morning, Louise awoke to breakfast in bed. Bobby was wearing just an apron, which couldn’t hide his pleasure in looking at her naked form. She pushed aside the breakfast tray.

“It looks like you’d prefer seconds,” she smiled. Bobby responded, in all senses of the word. He climbed in beside her and leaned over her, caressing her, then fondling, and finally, in a repeat performance of the night before, brought her to an electrifying climax before satisfying his own passion.

They lay, sated, happy, till Louise reached over and retrieved the tray. “I think I have an appetite,” she said, helping herself to a bowl of cereal and some toast. Bobby did the same, and poured some lukewarm coffee.

Eventually Bobby rose from the bed. “I guess I’d better get ready and go to the Centre.” He sounded reluctant.

“Bobby,” said Louise, “you’ve done your bit. Leave it to those you’ve employed to run it. You can always call in later,” she added, seeing the doubt on his face. She went to join him, flinging her arms round his neck. “I don’t know about you, but I need a shower.”

Bobby led her into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Together they stepped inside and took a long soak. They soaped each other in all their most personal places, with much giggling and lots of kissing.

“You’re even taller in the shower than you are in real life,” Louise laughed.
“Well, you’re much shorter without those 5” heels,” he countered. Then he lifted her up to his height and kissed her some more.

After they had dried one another thoroughly, as Bobby selected his clothes and began to dress, Louise looked at the leather jumpsuit in despair.

“Bobby,” she said, “I have a problem.” Bobby looked at her inquisitively, then at the jumpsuit. He roared with his own inimitable laughter. Going to the wardrobe, he fished out one of his dress shirts. “Try this on for size,” he said.

“Oh you are joking!” said Louise, slipping her arms into the sleeves and disappearing inside it. Bobby stepped forward and rolled up the sleeves several times. He buttoned the shirt, then whisked out a belt and wound it round her waist. It was only about a foot too long. Scratching his head, he suddenly had an idea. He took out one of his most colourful ties and tied it round her. “Ta-ra!” he said, and turned her round to face the mirror. It looked just as if...she was wearing a large man’s shirt secured round the waist with a tie. They both collapsed with laughter.
“Look,” said Bobby, “it will do for getting to my car. I guess I’d better take you to your place after all. You just need to tell me where it is.”

Chapter 6 – Pleasure

“I’m sorry,” said Bobby. He breathed into her hair, inhaled the scent of it, kissed it, ruffled it.

“You didn’t do anything,” Louise said. She hesitated, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “Except you got a little bit jealous.”

She had no idea what happened next, but somehow, amid twists and twirls, she was flat on her back on the rug, Bobby above her, kneeling astride her, her arms over her head, pinioned at the wrists, and his face inches from hers.

She wriggled and struggled and squealed for mercy, but his answer was to fix her with his gentle brown eyes, lower his face to hers and gently rub noses. She gave in to his grasp, and revelled in the contact, which soon turned into a long, deep, penetrating kiss. As his grip relaxed, she slid her arms out and round his back, unable to comprehend the massive bulk of the man. The sensation should have been oppressive, but for the first time in her life, she felt safe, protected. Maybe, she hoped, even cherished.

At length he broke off the kiss, reluctantly, slowly, and pushed himself up on his forearms to gaze searchingly into her eyes, looking for pleasure, happiness, consent. He saw them all, and more.

Raising himself further, he stood, bent over to scoop her up in his arms. Then, excitingly, he threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift, and carried her through to the bedroom she had longed to see. But now she was too busy looking at Bobby to notice the deep blues and muted greys, the plush bed with dark silky covers. He lay her on top, then stood back and surveyed his prize. He thought: This is going to be like unzipping a large black banana, but wisely pushed the thought aside. He said, “Shall I make you a little more comfortable?”

Louise offered him a foot clad in a knee high stiletto boot. “Would this be a good place to start?” she asked. Bobby obligingly unzipped the boot and pulled it off, then repeated the action with the other foot. Then he turned his attention to the tight black leather jumpsuit. It zipped up to the top of the breastbone, but the zipper had not been pulled up so far. A quantity of cleavage was showing, and he slipped a finger inside before sliding it down to the tab of the zip and opening the jumpsuit inch by inch.

There was no bra to catch his finger. He continued down, finally finding the top of a thong. He had soon revealed it – rich red silk with black lace trim. He stopped. Louise moaned. “Why have you stopped?” she asked.

Bobby’s answer was to lift her shoulders and peel the suit back, then gradually roll it down till it had reached her hips. Then he lifted her feet and, grasping the legs of the suit, pulled it free from her body and dropped it on to the floor. She lay there in just the thong, displaying almost every charm to his appreciative gaze. What next? she wondered.

Bobby surprised her by lying next to her, leaning across her, propped on one arm, running the other hand from her collar bone down to her pubis. Then he looked again into her eyes, and decided to ask her a question he found difficult to phrase.
“You know how you said you didn’t have much luck in making friends?” She nodded. “What about the male variety? I mean, how...” He really did not know how to continue.

Luckily, Louise did. “How many times have I been in this position before? How many lovers have I had? How experienced am I?” Bobby smiled shyly and nodded. Louise continued, “Well, I’ve never had a boyfriend, and I’ve never made love. The son of one of the families my parents farmed me out to did some experimental probing, against my will. After that, I never let anyone get close enough to try anything.”

Her frankness shocked Bobby a little. He didn’t know what to do next.

“But this situation, I’ve been anticipating for a while now, and hoping for. I can’t say I’ve been saving myself for you, but when I met you, I just knew that you were the one I wanted to help me forget my reluctance, my fears. If you’d like to.”

For answer, Bobby kissed her again, and as he did so, his hand scooped her thong away and threw it from the bed.

He was suddenly aware how overdressed he was compared to his lovely, naked companion. He leaned up and started to unbutton his shirt. Louise pushed herself half up from the bed to help him by loosening his belt, then working on his jeans. She was slightly surprised to find that underneath them he was free from underwear. As she pushed the jeans down, she discovered that his penis was hugely erect, as it sprang out of its denim prison. She ran her hand along the shaft, rubbing the tip with her thumb. Now it was Bobby’s turn to moan.

Removing first her hand, then his jeans and shirt, he murmured, “You first.” Then he returned his attention to her own naked form.

Kissing and kneading her nipples, he worked his way down to her sex. She was natural, unwaxed (he had somehow known this would not be something she had really taken any notice of in her grooming) and he slid his fingers into the hair, searching for the cleft beneath. With his other hand he raised her knees and parted them, laying her open to his attentions. Sliding a finger inside her, he ran it along her slit, spreading her juices to her stiffening clitoris. He rubbed it with his thumb. He inserted another finger and pumped inside of her. Then, just as she thought she could not take any more pleasure, he lowered his mouth to her vulva and, clamping his lips over it, he probed, licked and sucked. She arched her back and offered herself up to him in a state of mindless pleasure, till she exploded with an orgasm of the most incredible intensity.

After a few moments she returned to her senses. Gazing up at him, she whispered, “Your turn.”

Chapter 5 – Misunderstandings

Louise knew Bobby’s address from his personnel file, but she had no idea about the neighbourhood, other than that it was suburban.

As it turned out, it was quite leafy and peaceful. The apartment was at street level, and the entrance was clean and bright.

Bobby parked the car, and went round to open Louise’s door and help her out. She was grateful – the leather gear was not very practical for getting out of a low vehicle like this, and the boots – black, knee-high, and with small platforms and five-inch heels - didn’t help.

As he pulled her up by the hands, somehow she managed to snake her arms round his neck till there was not a millimetre between them. She looked up into his eyes, tilted her head, and parted her lips.

Bobby could not mistake this invitation, nor could he resist it. Sliding his arms round her and holding her tightly to him, he pressed his lips to hers, parting her lips further with his tongue, and slipping it into her mouth.

They stayed locked in this position for some moments before Bobby pulled his face from hers and said, “What would the neighbours say?” He smiled shyly.

Bobby took her into a small hallway from which led a large kitchen. But Bobby steered her to the right, towards a cosy, masculine living room, decorated in blacks, greys and browns.

Ushering her to the plush black sofa, Bobby offered to get her something to drink.

“Coffee would be good,” she said, rather deflated that he had not whisked her straight into the bedroom.

Bobby went to the kitchen, leaving Louise free to explore. One wall was floor-to-ceiling bookcases. There were books on a wide range of subjects – psychology, crime, law, art, history, and of course literary works of all kinds and from all periods. A man after her own intellect. The music collection was just as eclectic, from Mozart to The Beatles, and a lot of more recent stuff she herself could not appreciate.

She was just about to thumb through some of his magazines when Bobby returned with the coffees. She sat on the sofa, and he put her cup in front of her before himself settling at the opposite end. Louise’s heart sank. She had been too forward. She had misread Bobby’s feelings. All sorts of reasons for her failure to attract him ran through her head, but top of the list was her complete inability to form relationships other than working ones.

Bobby’s thoughts were both similar, and completely different. In the kitchen, he had tried to imagine why she had draped herself over his car with the apparent intention of seducing him. He was too old, too poor, too ordinary. No, scratch the “too poor”, she was not that shallow. But she had arrived with Sam Deed, dressed to kill, and the only possible explanation that made any sense was that she meant to attract Sam, but having failed, and being a little the worse for drink, was resigned to putting up with his older, greyer counterpart.

Feeling grim, he finished making the coffees and returned to the living room. Louise was browsing through his record collection, as he might have expected had he thought about it. When she sat at one end of the sofa, he could not bring himself to sit beside her. He didn’t want to put her in a position she would regret in the morning, so he sat at the opposite end. Straight away, he could feel her disappointment. Better now than later, he thought. He launched into a conversation that must bring her to her senses.

“So,” he said, “how long have you known Sam Deed?”

So that’s it, she thought, he imagines a relationship between Sam and me. Or perhaps he thinks I’d like one. Let’s give it to him straight.

“Sam is engaged to a young woman who used to work with me at one of the charities,” she said. “In fact, it was her idea for us to arrive on Sam’s bike – she even lent me these leathers.” She stretched out an elegant leg and twirled the ankle. “I really should have brought something to change into.” In fact, all she could think of was peeling them off – or having Bobby do so for her.

Bobby looked abashed. But he was still not convinced that she knew what she was doing, this lovely young woman who could have anyone she chose. Why would she opt for an average guy like him?

“You work too hard,” he said. “You should be out with your friends, having fun.”
“What friends are those?” Louise asked. “Even Sam’s girlfriend is only a former colleague. I don’t make friends easily.” Or lovers, she thought.

“I can’t believe that,” said Bobby. “You’re smart, beautiful, kind –“

“And totally unable to form relationships,” she finished off his thought with one of her own.

“Don’t forget that my childhood was spent being passed around by my parents to anyone who would agree to look after me, so that they could go off gallivanting in their carefree way. I never spent two school breaks in a row with the same people. Though there was a long queue to take me, because my parents paid so well to have me taken off their hands.”

Bobby hadn’t realised how neglected she had been, how desperate she was for affection. Was he up to the challenge of providing her with loving support? He moved along the sofa and put his arm round her. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. Contentedly.