Going Up and Going Down (24 page)

The phone call
from David came as a big surprise. It had only been three weeks since our last
date, so I certainly wasn’t expecting to hear from him for at least another
five weeks. He wasn’t in a rush to get off the phone, so we chatted for twenty
minutes or so. It was lovely to hear his voice, I tried to picture him. But in
my mind he wasn’t in his car, or at his desk, he was reclining on his bed in
his mews cottage in St John’s Wood. I enjoyed that thought and let my heart
race. If only.

He was
overjoyed. His daughter, Catherine, had just been accepted at the University
she had wanted – she had excelled with her ‘A’ Levels and had achieved much
better grades than had been required. She hoped to become a Forensic scientist
and I could hear the pride in his voice as he spoke of her. The pride quickly
changed to concern – his ex wife had recently caught their other daughter,
fifteen year old Ruby in bed with a young man, also fifteen and in the same
school year. She was, apparently, going through a very rebellious stage and it
sounded as if David’s ex-wife was finding her quite a handful. He was upset –
concerned about the risks she was taking, S.T.D.s, unwanted pregnancy and his
biggest concern – drugs. I did my best to bolster his mood for the remainder of
our call but I couldn’t help but think that despite managing to elicit a few
laughs from him, he sounded so down.

Maybe after his
jetlag had worn off and he’d been to visit his girls he would be feeling much
better about things before our next date at the weekend. Even though I had been
listening carefully, hanging onto his every word, I managed to control my
excitement.

Before we had
started chatting about our news he had asked me for my company. It was a real
bonus this time. We were actually going to spend almost the whole weekend together
– a special weekend he had said. From Saturday morning at ten o’clock until
late Sunday night, at his cottage – it would feel like two full days. It would
be my pleasure. The very thought was juice inducing -  positively orgasmic!

A mini spending
spree was called for. I wanted to look stunning for my favourite client. I
needed something sophisticated so I could dress for dinner, which was going to
be delivered by caterers. I wanted new undies, shoes, a silk robe, and I needed
to find a gift for him. I considered getting a new perfume, but I remembered
how he always loved still smelling my perfume on his clothes for a few days
after our dates, so I decided to stick with what David liked.

I took three
days holiday from the hotel and I went shopping in Knightsbridge. I made the
search for a gift for him my number one priority. I had plenty of clothes to
choose from at home if I couldn’t find exactly what I had in mind. From my
little knowledge of him, he seemed to have everything he wanted. I didn’t have
a clue what I could buy for him. At least, I hadn’t...until I stopped to look
at men’s watches in a jeweller’s shop window. My eyes were drawn to a watch
with a beautiful face, and for some reason, I found I couldn’t take my eyes off
that watch face – I was seeing David’s face, and his beauty. After staring for
sometime I snapped out of my reverie, entered the shop, and asked if the watch
could be engraved with a few words on the back. I was assured it wouldn’t be a
problem and I would be able to collect it the next day, Friday, so I paid and
went off to get the rest of my things. I was thrilled about the watch and I
hoped that David would be as delighted to receive it, as I was to give it. I
expected, of course, to be severely reprimanded.

The clothes
somehow didn’t seem important anymore after I’d bought the watch. I had lots of
gorgeous clothes anyway and many that David had not seen before. I did buy some
gorgeous new undies though and a sexy but classy, silk robe, as opposed to sexy
and tarty. I booked an appointment for a manicure and French polish, and at the
same salon I decided on a facial. When I arrived home, I had lots to do, and my
first task was to select my clothes carefully. I wanted smart clothes to arrive
in and clothes to wear to leave in. I hadn’t even got there yet, and already I
was choosing an outfit for when I would be leaving. I was so organised but I
had to put the thought about leaving him out of my mind – I didn’t want to
dwell on that!

Armani blue
jeans, a pair of diamante mules on a wedge I’d found in Harrods, and an
expensive, plain white cotton shirt, worn open over an equally expensive vest
top. I tried on my choices and reasonably happy, decided that this was the
arrival outfit – simple, stunning, classy. The little black dress collection
was next and I um-ed and ah-ed for ten minutes, before opting for a little jade
number, not too low-cut, or too short, just on the knee and with a pair of jade
sandals. I had already settled on wearing David’s diamond pendant as my
jewellery, my ‘special lady’ gift. Three or four different searches that night
and my wardrobes did not have anything to offer, in the way of a leaving
outfit. I had always considered myself very fortunate, to have such a selection
of beautiful clothes, so why then, could I not see anything appropriate? The
answer came to me in an instant. I couldn’t face choosing a leaving outfit
simply because I didn’t want to think about the leaving part.

The ringing of
my mobile woke me at seven o’clock on the Friday morning. It was a regular
client of mine, calling to see if I was available that same night. I knew it
was totally out of the question. I didn’t want to have sex with anyone the
evening before my weekend with David. I told him that I was spending the whole
weekend with another client. I got the impression that he was not too happy
about it - he was due to fly out to Frankfurt again first thing Monday morning
so there would be no further opportunities for sex with me on this visit.

“If you can
call me two days in advance next time you are in the country,” I told him “I
will make sure your needs are my priority.” It seemed as if I’d managed to
pacify him, although I imagined he would seek some female company on his
travels rather than wait until a next appointment with me.

“Okay. You
can’t offer fairer than that, thanks.” Before he ended the call, he gave a much
friendlier, “Goodbye, my dear.”

David’s watch
was ready on time as promised by the jeweller. The engraving of my little
message was exceptional and I was confident that he would be touched by my
gesture. Cross with me, yes, but secretly very pleased. I had one more
appointment before returning home - a quick visit to my dentist for a scale and
polish, two months ahead of time. Everything had to be perfect. I soaked for over
an hour in the bath, painted my toe nails, and then I carefully moisturised
every square inch of my body with a product that contained a very light tanning
agent.  Since my morning coffee, I had been on detox the rest of the day – I
wanted to feel good as much as I wanted to look good. The last part of the
day’s feel good treatments was to apply my night creams, one for the eyes, and
one for the rest of my face. Early night after that – I needed my beauty sleep.

By nine o’clock
next morning I was ready. I had quickly laid my hands on a leaving outfit that
would fit the bill, but I was still unwilling to dwell on that part. My make-up
had been applied with the utmost attention to detail, the natural look – no eye
shadow, just the right amount of mascara, a hint of foundation in a
moisturiser, and subtle lipstick and blusher. I was happy with the result –
natural looking, instead of being too painted. I called for a cab as I didn’t
want to risk travelling the underground system with the contents of my handbag
and travel case being valuable. My bedroom door was locked so that Anthony
wouldn’t be able to go nosing about. He was at home when the cab arrived for me
but I didn’t feel the need to offer any information.

...and hurt!

What a welcome
I received when he opened the door. He looked me up and down, stunned into
silence for a few seconds. Then he took me in his arms for the biggest of hugs,
and we both kissed the air beside each other’s cheeks. He pushed my hair behind
my right ear and whispered,

“I need you,
Helen. Now!”

I was relieved
to hear this as I wanted him badly. I had been thinking about sex with him from
the minute I opened my eyes, but I was a little surprised it would be happening
so soon.

“What? No
champagne chilling, David? You’re sacked – I need my champers to put me in the
mood.” I laughed

He grabbed my
hand and led me upstairs to the bedroom, before replying,

“No you don’t,
stop fibbing, Helen. It’s not quite chilled enough yet and I hadn’t planned on
wanting you this soon, you just look so…ravishing. We don’t need the champers
anyway.”

Once in the
bedroom, he sat me on the edge of the bed and, not letting go of my hand, he
sat down with me, looking into my eyes as he did so. Returning his gaze, I
wondered why he looked so serious. I also noticed how tired he looked around
his eyes.

“You look
exhausted
,
David. Are you sleeping properly?”

He was fast to
fob me off.

“A bit of
jetlag, babe, too much flying in too few days – I’ll be okay.”

We sat there
for ages. For somebody who’d wanted me badly he was wasting valuable time. He
rubbed my hand between both of his and kept looking into my eyes, maybe trying
to read me. The air was full of tension, I could see a question coming but he
was being pretty hesitant about it. I leaned my head on his shoulder, hoping to
give him the prompt – and it worked.

“Babe, I want
to ask, if you will do something different for me this weekend. I’m praying it
won’t be a problem for you – it’s something I really want.”

I was shocked.
He’d never seemed like a client with perverted needs, so I was suddenly wary,
not wanting to commit myself, before hearing what it was he wanted. Maybe
that’s
why he’d given me the diamond necklace first, payment up front for something a
bit different?

“Tell.” I
ordered.

“Babe, what I
want you to do is…please will you let me kiss you? I understand if you...”

I cut him off
mid-sentence as I planted my lips firmly on his, kissing him tenderly, his eyes
wide open then, his turn to be shocked for a few seconds, then he was kissing
me back. Our bodies were both shaking, a little nervous with each other,
finding ourselves outside the confines of our normal comfort zone.

We took it
slowly and gently, enjoying a new and beautiful experience, (stone cold sober
this time), teasing each other every now and again, our tongues doing nothing
more than tasting each other’s lips. Eventually, we leaned back over onto the
bed and I felt his hands unfastening, first my denims, then he slipped my shirt
off my shoulders. My hands wandered to his denims and I unzipped him. I put my
hands up his tee-shirt, stroking his chest, and we carried on, slowly
undressing each other while we continued to kiss. I stroked his hair, his
cheeks, I nibbled his ear lobes and it was so beautiful, to be touching him, and
him touching me in return. We explored each other, slowly and lovingly, every
square inch. We were excited with what we were discovering, our ticklish parts,
our sensitive parts, and for the first time the sensitive parts were
not
our sexual organs - not my breasts or vagina, not his penis, not bottoms! The
sensitive parts were behind the knees, the backs of arms, our feet, and our
necks – anywhere. This was sensual, loving foreplay – not sexual, animal needs.

As was
inevitable, our explorations became urgent. Our hands started to wander to the
tops of thighs, edging closer, each minute, towards ultimate excitement. Our
mouths were parting, tongues probing, as our needs become apparent. Each move
was still gentle but we could sense each other’s wanting – wanting more,
wanting that fusion, when two become one, when we couldn’t possibly get any
closer than we already were.

That moment
arrived at last, and as he entered me, we both moaned in ecstasy, he kissed me,
gazed into my eyes and for the first time I saw love in his eyes. I wished and
hope that he could read me - see through my eyes and into my mind, and
instantly know that I loved him. His thrusting was gentle and I pushed myself
upwards to meet the thrusting, to show him my eagerness, my willingness to take
part, to get ever closer to him. I felt so emotional, taken aback at the
direction our relationship had taken - and suddenly I felt as if it was all a
dream, I was frightened to believe in him. We continued our movements, my hands
on his buttocks, stroking and then pulling his bottom towards me, helping each
gentle thrust, until that thrusting became faster, and deeper, and he asked,

“Are you ready
for me, babe?”

I knew in that
instant that I would always be ready for him, my heart ached for him.

“Always!”

We climaxed
together a few minutes later and we both cried out in ecstasy at the intensity.
An intensity that was not born of just sexual gratification, it was a deep
emotional intensity from a coupling that, for the first time, had been about
passion…and making love. I was unwilling to move afterwards, to break that
connection, I lay there in his arms and I let the tears fall. I cried. My head
was on his chest, and he was stroking my hair, his breathing finally starting
to slow down.

“Babe, why is my
chest wet?” he laughed as he lifted my head to look into my eyes and I was
surprised to see that his cheeks were also wet with tears. I also started to
laugh, and before long the bed was shaking as we were laughing together. For me
it was a reaction of happiness, a relief – that we both knew our relationship
had changed - into something more deep and meaningful. But words of love had
not been uttered from either of us, just yet.

It was two in
the afternoon when we finally made our move from the bedroom. We showered
together in the wet room, embracing and kissing as we washed each other’s
bodies. No ulterior motive, no sexual innuendo - just a mutual desire to do
things together, enjoy each other’s company. We dried each other with the
fluffy towels, then donned our bathrobes and made sandwiches and coffee
together in the kitchen. We took our snack through to the coffee table in the
lounge. We indulged in some surprisingly normal conversation at last, maybe
trying to bring things back down to earth, and skirting around the subject of
what had just taken place.

“Tell me what
you’ve been up to since I saw you last.” I wanted to know “Where have you been
on business? How are things with your daughters?”

He pulled a
face, shrugging off my questions.

“No. I don’t
want to talk about me and my life. It’s been business as usual. What have you
been up to?”

I pulled a
face, I didn’t want to talk about my husband, or my cleaning work, or…anything.

“I have been
busy preparing myself for you, David. Beauty treatments, shopping for the right
clothes for this weekend, I hope you like them, by the way. And…I’ve been
shopping. I bought…a present for you. But I will be giving it to you tomorrow,
before I go home.”

“You didn’t…you
shouldn’t have...I...”

“Neither should
you.” I cut in, “My present is for a very special man – you. Tit for tat,
getting even, doing something similar in return, you do it, I do it....”

“Okay, okay, I
get the message. Shut up. Now!” and to make sure I did, he kissed me hard on
the lips for a minute, “But you didn’t need to, babe.”

“You shut up.”
and I kissed him back, to shut
him
up. We started laughing again,
raucous laughter, and picked up cushions and started a very juvenile cushion
fight, jumping over the back of the settees and chairs, chasing each other
around the room, laughing uncontrollably. It had been a very long time since
I’d had this much fun and I loved every minute of it. I could tell that David
was enjoying himself as well. We ended up flopping down on the settee together,
out of breath, our laughter dying down, but for the odd giggle here and there.

“I’ll put the
T.V. on and find us a film to watch.
If
I can find one at this time on a
Saturday afternoon, that is.”

“Sure, sounds
great to me.”

He flicked back
and forth through the channels with the remote, settled on one film, an old war
movie, for a few minutes. Without me saying one word he realised he should look
for something that was more light-hearted so he flicked through again until he
found an old
rom-com
. I grabbed the bottle of champagne that David had
put to chill much earlier, poured us a glass each, and then we snuggled up
together, and watched the film. Every now and again, he would turn towards me
and plant a kiss on my cheek or forehead, or my lips, and it struck me that things
seemed so normal – a couple thing – and normal felt good to me.

Towards the
last half hour of the film, I heard David’s breathing get much deeper and a
little nasal – familiar sounds of someone who has just started to doze off. I
didn’t bother to disturb him, I could see that his jet-lag was starting to kick
in, and he looked peaceful, so I watched the remainder of the film by myself. I
hadn’t watched a film in ages and I thoroughly enjoyed it. For once I felt
everything was looking positive.

When the film
finished I carefully tried to extract myself from David’s arms without waking
him. He stirred for a minute or so, shifted his position slightly and within
minutes was snoring softly again. I busied myself in his kitchen for a while,
washing the few plates and knives from our sandwich making. When I went back to
the lounge I poured myself another glass of champagne and sat down in one of
the armchairs to gaze in wonder at my lovely man as he slept.

I reminded
myself that I didn’t know if he actually was
my
man.

I watched him
sleeping until after six o’clock, when it suddenly occurred to me that dinner
was being delivered at some point this evening, courtesy of a local firm of
caterers, but I couldn’t recall David mentioning a time. I knelt down on the
floor next to the sofa and pressed gently on his arm,

“David?”

Oh hell. He was
so sound asleep, I hated having to do this but I was reluctant to let a meal go
to waste, and we both needed to eat, so I shook his arm this time,

“David? Wake
up, sweetheart.” I whispered.

His eyes opened
and he was a little disorientated, surprised to see me there. I stroked his arm
gently and kissed the top of his nose.

“Oh. What…?”

“What time is
the meal being delivered, David?”

“What? Meal?
Oh...seven thirty…I think.”

“Okay. I’m
going to go and get ready then. I’m dressing for dinner – formal. Take your
time.”

I made a pot of
coffee and left it on the coffee table for him as he was struggling to get his
eyes fully opened. I went to the bathroom for a freshen-up. Fifteen minutes later
I had nearly finished applying my make-up when I heard him coming up the
stairs. I shouted to ask if he would mind getting ready in one of the other
bedrooms.

“Yes no
problem, babe,” he answered “I take it you want to surprise me then? Good – I
love surprises.”

“Go downstairs
when you are ready and I will make my grand entrance, I hope you like it.” I
shouted back.

“One hundred
percent guaranteed.”

I felt like I
had done when I was a teenager, going out on my first ever date and I could
hardly contain my excitement. I smiled to myself.Looking in the mirror, I was
thrilled with my reflection as it smiled back at me. The dress looked stunning,
the diamond pendant sparkled and I had a glow about me that was nothing at all
to do with my blusher. I heard David going downstairs just a few minutes before
I finished, so it was time to go. I started feeling rather nervous again as I
made my way down the stairs, where he waited at the bottom, his back to me, and
his hands held over his eyes.

“Can I look
yet?”

When I reached
the bottom step, I paused, took a deep breath and said yes. He turned around,
took my hand, and in that superb old-fashioned manner of yesteryear, kissed the
back of it.

“Your ladyship,
forgive me, but you are looking extremely stunning this evening. The dress
brings out the colour in your eyes and the overall result is breathtakingly
beautiful.”

My heart was
racing at his compliments once again and it felt like no-one else existed in
the world but the two of us.

“Thank you for
the compliment, kind Sir.” I acknowledged “And if I may return the compliment,
Sir is looking very handsome and distinguished.” We giggled as he led me
through to the lounge.

“Would your
Ladyship care to partake of a small libation, perhaps a nice glass of jolly old
Bollinger?” he carried on in his mock, poshest of posh voice.

“Yes, she
bloody would.” I laughed.

He sat down
opposite me.

“Because I want
to sit and stare at you.” he explained.

I didn’t mind
sitting and staring at him either - he looked truly handsome. He was wearing
one of his business suits, charcoal grey, very well-tailored, and an expensive
shirt. He even had a black evening tie. I hadn’t seen him dressed in this way
before. He was usually attired in smart casual, a bathrobe, or completely
naked, when we had our dates.

The caterers
were prompt, knocking on the door at precisely 7.30pm. I was impressed with the
service, they laid the table, served up the starters, and they went on to serve
each course in turn, and clear everything away when we finished dining. Whilst
we ate each exquisite course, they discreetly stayed out of the way in the
kitchen.