The
Spanky Bottom Consultation.
By
Josephine Sanchez Vanner
Chapter
9 – The Final Chapter.
Not
with a whimper – but a bang!
Giles
and Jasper had a simple plan. Carry Lady Ambrose-Gorely's coffin
upstairs to their attic room, fill it as full as possible with
antiques and then in the dead of night, which was rapidly
approaching, slide it down the stairs and out to their awaiting Land
Rover. Unload the loot and put Lady G, back in her resting place. Job
done, money in the bank. Gay bar on the horizon.
What
could be more simple than that? They told themselves.
It
is one thing to imagine emptying a coffin of it's corpse, it is quite
another thing to actually do it.
Giles
and Jasper stood in horrified inertia, looking down at Lady
Ambrose-Gorely. Neither of them was willing to touch her dead body.
“You
do it.” Giles whispered to Jasper. Why he was whispering he had no
idea, it just seemed appropriate.
Jasper
had no such qualms about raising his voice, “Not bloody likely.”
Came his loud stubborn reply.
The
coffin had been placed on a special folding gurney, ready for the
undertaker to collect the next day. All it required to bring them
closer to their dream of owning The Bottoms Up, was to remove her
Ladyship from the coffin and place her on the bed.
They
had assumed she would be soft and compliant, not cold hard and stiff
as a board.
“It's
disgusting. I'm not touching that.” Jasper would not budge.
“So
that's it then. My fucking dream up the spout. And a nicely located
back passage in Upper Rawlings, won't be the location for my Bottoms Up.” Giles lamented as he and Jasper
stared down at the thing ending their plans to own the best gay bar
in Upper Rawlings.
“You
don't want dead lady's coffin. You want dumb waiter.”
The
two conspirators froze in guilt. Turning slowly around they saw
Dolores standing by the door with an even more inscrutable expression
on her oriental face than usual.
“Beg
pardon?” Giles queried.
“No
point putting old things in there. You need these.” She held up
several large pillow cases, “Then you put filled bags on that.”
Their
eyes trailed to where she was pointing.
“We
don't want to put the bloody things in a cupboard. We want to get
them out of the fucking house.”
Unmoved
by Jasper's petulance, she continued, “That not cupboard. That dumb
waiter. Is little elevator going down to kitchen. You open. You see.”
Giles
opened what he had mistakenly taken for a cupboard and looked down
into a small square shaft.
“Well
I'll be buggered.” He muttered as a light at the end of the tunnel
dawned on him.
“You
fill pillow cases bring down here and put in dumb waiter. I wait in
kitchen fill laundry basket and we push out to Land Rover.”
As
plans went, Giles could not see a a flaw.
Jasper's
darkly suspicious eyes narrowed. His brain more akin to the
commercial world he said, “10%.”
“25%”
Dolores shot back.
“No
can do, we have to pay commission to our seller. 15% take it or leave
it.”
“20%
and I don't tell Missa Wodnee.”
“Done.”
With
Dolores's help, all the antiques were safely stashed in the back of
Giles's ancient Land Rover, and Giles and Jasper were on their way, with
a mistrustful Dolores sitting on the back seat to Tetley's auction
house. Their dream of owning the best gay bar in Upper Rawlings, getting closer with each mile.
Bottoms Up would be on the lips of every gay for miles around Jasper
chirped as Giles drove.
Olek
had his bear sized paws clamped firmly to Olga's cow udder boobs. And
he was loving every minute of it. The had grunted their way through
15 orgasms, 10 his, 5 hers.
Why,
he wondered had he not wanted the pleasure of his wife's full
voluptuous body before, he just could not understand. What a
waste, he condemned himself, going for number 11.
“Olek.
Wait for me.” Olga panted.
“I
will on number twelve.” He grunted.
Whatever
was in those vitamins pills Carlos had given him, was unbelievable
he'd never had so much stamina before.
“These
will keep you going all night.” The male consort had said with a
wink, and he was dead right. Olek made a mental note to employ the
man as his full time sexual consultant and vitamin supplier.
True,
he did enjoy oriental pussy. And he had fond, if betrayed, memories
of the Chang twins. But they were nothing compared to his Russian
beaver. His desire for his wife just couldn't be satiated. The more
times he sneaked off into the bathroom for another vitamin pill, the
more he wanted her.
He
constantly engorged cock was beginning to get rather sore. Olga
however, didn't seem to be suffering in the same way. As long as she
was up for it, so was he.
Orgasm
number 13 thrilled him all the way down to his socks. 14 was just as
good, as was 15. By 16 he was beginning to flag a bit. 17, 18 and 19
came in a blur.
20
had him reaching for his cigarettes.
“Oh
Olek. You're a beast. My very own caveman.” Olga giggled. For once
she didn't care if he smoked in her presence. He could puff away like
a Siberian log fire for all she cared. Between her legs was a feeling
she'd never had before – a throbbing vulva of satisfaction.
Olek
blew smoke rings savoring his own contentment as his woman snored
softly beside him.
He
had come to Rawlings Hall with the expectations of his week-end being
spent pandering to a wife he couldn't stand the sight of, with a
bunch of aristocratic, no chin wonders that he assumed he'd loath at
first sight. What he found, was the opposite. He'd fulfilled a long
wanted desire of rampant sex with a set of oriental twins and
discovered that Olga was the love of his life.
Olek
Dmitri Pullemov, always repaid his debts. To Audrey he owed a debt of
thanks. It was she who had brought him to Rawlings, and it was her
brother who had shown him that he had a wife worth wanting. Audrey
would get her contract signed, and Rodney, would not be killed.
The
Chang twins, he owed them too. Their love of film making, gave him an
idea. He would make them the stars of his next film production. He
was sure they would enjoy heading the cast of 'Big Dicks in China
Town', a Pullemov Productions porn movie.
All
in all, Rodney, reflected as he sat in a hot bath of bubbles and
steam with Dolores's legs wrapped around his waist, scrubbing his
back with a loofah that had just been used for a very different
purpose. All in all, it had been a very successful weekend at
Rawlings Hall.
Even
the death of Lady Ambrose-Gorely, a frequent client, had a plus side
to it. She died in blissful happiness leaving him her entire fortune.
He could now close down the Rawlings Hall brothel and have his family
home to himself once again.
His
sister Audrey, had got her lucrative contract with the Russians.
Although he missed the delights of Olga's solid borscht fed body, it
did not escape him that losing her, may well have avoided his death
by poisoning during Sunday lunch. A method apparently employed by the
Pullemov's on occasions when they were no longer pleased with members
of their family. Under those circumstances he decided, Olek was
welcome to her.
Dolores, wet and sudsy slid seductively out of the bath. As he
watched her wiggle her nakedness towards the door, Rodney had his third erection since she ran the bath. She was on a
mission to get a very cold bottle of vintage champagne and two long
stemmed cut crystal glasses. He sat in rapt appreciation as
her nude buttocks disappeared through the bathroom doorway. Since
the first day she had come to work for him, Rodney had had to curtail
his craving to lay his hands on any or all of her lusciously
provocative body.
Sighing
from their recent sexual fulfillment, he leaned back in the bath and
daydreamed. He imagined licking Dolores's wrinkle free smooth skin.
Rodney had a preference for the mature woman, and Dolores wore her
43 years like a couture gown. Mother nature had used the best quality
materials on her and had put together a delicious caramel toffee colored seductress.
Not
only was she beautiful, she was honest. Having helped
Giles and Jasper get the antiques to Tetley, on her return to
Rawlings, Dolores went straight to Rodney.
“Your
friend Giles and his boyfriend have just removed the stolen antiques
hidden in the attic. They've cut me in for 10%. I'll split it 50/50
with you. Which I think is fair, don't you?” She smiled at him with a set
of perfect white teeth from a mouth that spoke in an equally perfect
English upper-class accent.
“I
say. Your English has improved dramatically since this morning.”
Rodney raised an eyebrow in query.
“I
was born in London, and I've a degree in antiques from Cambridge
university. I put on that stupid accent to fool you into thinking I
was just a servant. I came here intending to steal some of your
valuables.”
“Why
haven't you? And why tell me about Giles?” He was confused.
“Because
you fool – I've gone and done something I never believed I was
capable of. I've fallen in love with you.” It was true, Dolores or
as she was really known, Janice Montgomery, professional art thief,
had committed the unprofessional sin of falling for her intended
victim.
Unknown to Giles
and Jasper, they had done him the most enormous favor.
An
attic stuffed full of stolen antiques, thanks to genetically
inherited kleptomania, had caused a succession of Augustus St John's
a certain amount of unnecessary embarrassment.
Great
Uncle Jerome had a penchant for Chinese porcelain, which he stole
from every grand house he was a week-end guest at. Rodney's
grandfather couldn't keep his hands off of silverware, and then again
there was great aunt Honoria and cousin Amelia, both of whom found
the finer points of modern expressionism and classic landscape
paintings, in that order, most appealing. The Augusts St John's
collective kleptomania spanned several generations and represented a sizable pile of ill gotten gains.
Giles's
need for ready cash had unwittingly relieved Rawlings Hall of this
large accumulation of unwanted, after all these years, not so much
hot property as tepid but all the same – stolen antiques.
Rodney
opened his eyes at the sound of champagne being poured.
Handing
him a glass, Janice stepped into the tub re-wrapping her legs around
his waist, she pulled herself close to him, and felt intense pleasure
as he slid himself soapily inside her.
Rodney
lifted his glass and said, “Here's to you and me my dear. May we
always have champagne and roses.”
“Champagne
and roses.” The said together.
The
End.
The
characters in this short novella are not based on any real person and
are purely fictional from the author's furtive imagination.
I hope you have enjoyed this short novella.
My best wishes to you all.
Josephine
Sanchez Vanner
Half
Blood –
Turning the Pages Magazine, 2013 Adventure Book of the Year &
2013 Paranormal Book of the year.
Award
winning novel about alien vampires from a distant galaxy, who are the
good guys.
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Warlock's Woman. A beautiful psychic, an evil warlock
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courtesy of freedidgitalphotos.net
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