Personal Blogs

On Saturday I had a long rehearsal, including a lot of singing and dancing, which tired me out.  I went back to my cabin, and had a good long soak in a hot bath.  I sipped some of my new whisky, which has been maturing for one year now and is at the point where it is just about drinkable if you put plenty of ice in it.  Holt and I have designed a portable refrigerator, and have set up a workshop to make them, which is staffed by some of Kerr McLean’s employees.  I now have one of these appliances in my room and it comes in very handy.    While soaking, I occupied myself in trying to think of a name for my Christmas seasonal beer, but I was too fatigued to come up with anything. 

            I tried to do some reading after supper, but I fell asleep with the book still in my hands.

            I had nothing planned for Sunday, apart from a walk round the Temperate Zone and a quick visit to the brewery to make sure the equipment had been cleaned properly from the previous batch.  I went back to my cabin with the intention of reading Kurt Vonnegut’s Welcome to the Monkey House from cover-to-cover before bed. 

            I was interrupted by my phone ringing, which is a such a rare event that it took me a minute to work out what it was.  Virtually all my communication is via the ship’s email system, and I set my mobile not to make a noise when I receive one.  I check it whenever I feel like it, which is usually quite frequently.  I tried to work out who it might be, but I was so mystified that I just answered it, but only after it had been ringing for some time. 

            It was Anna. 

            ‘Kelvin, I am wondering if you could do me a favour.’ 

            ‘A favour?’

            ‘Yes.  A favour.’

            ‘What kind of favour?’

            ‘I’ve got some-one new on my books.  She is very new, and in fact has only had one client.’

            ‘Yes?’

            ‘He turned out to be a weirdo.  He paid her, and he wasn’t violent, but she described his behaviour to me and I agree – this client was scarily weird.  I want to make sure that her next is some-one I know I can trust.’

            ‘Are you saying that you want me to book a session with her?’

            ‘Yes.’

            ‘Any special time?’

            ‘Now.’

            ‘Now?’

            ‘Well, as soon as you can be ready.’

            ‘Why now?'

            ‘Well, I don’t usually take bookings on a Sunday, but I don’t want to put her into the normal schedule until her head is a bit more together.’

            ‘You want me to book a session with her, in order to help her get her head together.’

            ‘Yes.’

            ‘Do I still have to pay?’  The response was silence.  ‘I take it that means that I am still expected to pay.’

            ‘Yes.’

            ‘What’s her name?’

            ‘Olivia.  She is auburn, freckly, and quite effervescent.’

            ‘OK.  I’ll do it.  I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.’

*

            Why now?  Why now?  Why do you think, you stupid, ignorant, thick-headed, moronic, infuriating idiot?  Do you still have to pay?  Do you still have to pay?  Four the sake of four sovereigns, you ask if you still have to pay.  This is not the real payment, Kelvin.  This is not even something on account.  What is four fucking sovereigns to Doctor Kelvin-bloody-bleeding Alexander-twat-Philip bastard-Stark PhD?

*

Olivia buzzed me through the main door and stood in the entrance, Layla-style, in an overcoat and high-heels.  I was expecting her to have little on underneath, and I was right.

            ‘Hello, baby.  How are you today?’

            ‘A bit tired, actually.’

            ‘Ooh, baby.  Come on in and sit down.’  She led me to a large and very comfortable sofa, covered in dark green fabric.  It was new, and I wondered where it had come from.  I guessed that Kerr McLean’s company had made it.  She sat opposite me on one of the upright chairs from the cabin’s dining area, and looked rather uncomfortable.  She was wearing white lingerie, including a basque with suspenders, white stockings with lace tops, a piece of white lace secured around her neck with a brooch, and white court shoes.  She kept tapping her feet.

            ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, suddenly.  ‘I am going to have to take these shoes off.  I borrowed them off Angel and they are at least a whole size too small.  They are killing me.  Ah, that’s better.’  A pause, and then, ‘Do you think I look like a tranny in this outfit?’  I laughed.

            ‘You look absolutely nothing like a tranny.’  She looked relieved.  ‘Would you like me to give you a foot massage?’  I asked her, for want of something better to say.

            ‘Ooh, baby – that would be lovely,’ she declared.  ‘But – hang on a minute – you’re supposed to be the client here.’

            ‘Don’t worry about that.  Just lie down here.’

            She reclined luxuriously on the sofa, which was wide enough for me to sit next to where she lay without sliding onto the floor.  I lifted her stockinged foot onto my lap and slowly began to massage the sole.  She moaned with satisfaction and closed her eyes.  I took my time.  I was just about to move my attention to her other foot, when her head started to loll slightly, and her breathing become very regular.  Suddenly, she sat bolt upright, and looked at a small watch on a very narrow strap on her wrist. 

            ‘I won’t count this towards the hour, you know.’

            ‘Relax,’ I re-assured her.  ‘Just relax.  It doesn’t matter.’  I carried on with the massage.  I rubbed her insteps, and her heels, and each of her toes.  This was the longest I had been in the Starlight room without taking my clothes off or somebody’s touching my penis.

            ‘Ooh, this is good.  Ooh, baby, this is so relaxing.  Mm, I could lie here all day like this – all day.’  There was a noise.  Olivia sat bolt upright again.  ‘Oh, shit.  That’s my phone.  I forgot to turn it off.’  She leaned over,  barely maintaining contact with the sofa, and grabbed the strap of an enormous red leather handbag with chrome buckles.  She fumbled frantically in the depths of the bag, and dug out the phone.  ‘Shit City.  It’s from Anna.  There’s a text as well.’  She pressed some buttons, and looked perplexedly at the screen.  The phone continued to ring.  ‘The call’s for you,’ she said as she handed the instrument to me.  I hate using other people’s phones, almost as much as I hate any-one else touching mine. 

            ‘Hello?’  Olivia lay back, silent, still, and unblinking, with a concerned look on her face.  She looked like a child whose parent was talking on the phone to an irate schoolteacher. 

            ‘Kelvin – Anna here.  I hate to break my policy of never any interruptions, but I just wanted to say – before you got started – that I might not have been clear enough in what I was saying before.’

            ‘Yes?’

            ‘Intercourse.  There has to be intercourse.’  I began to wander to the opposite side of the room.  I clamped the phone to the side of my head as if I needed it to staunch an arterial bleed.

            ‘Sorry?’

            ‘To help her get her head straight – you remember?’

            ‘Er, yes.  I remember.  Of course.’

            ‘Are you OK with that?  She needs cock.’

            ‘Of course.  Of course.’

            ‘Inside her.’

            ‘Indeed.’

            ‘Fuck her, Kelvin.’

            ‘By all means.’

            ‘Fuck her brains out.’

            ‘Oh, yes.  Absolutely.’

            ‘Ram it right up her soaking wet cunt.’

            ‘Goodbye, Anna.  Speak to you again soon. Thank you.’  I rang off.  Olivia seemed no longer nervous, more half-asleep.  She perked up again as soon as I handed the phone back to her.

            ‘What was all that about?  Was it to do with me?’

            ‘Partly.’

            ‘Have I done something wrong?’

            ‘No, not at all.  Everything’s fine.’

            ‘What did she want?’

            ‘She wanted me to do something for her.  For you.  For her.’

            ‘What was it?’

            ‘The instructions were quite vague.  I think she just wanted us to get to know each other better.’

            ‘Better?’

            ‘Er.  More intimately.  You know.  Anyway, where were we?’  I started to massage her feet again, but this time I moved gradually up to her ankles and then up her legs.  After a while, I was kneeling on the floor beside her as she lay on the sofa, and was rubbing the inside of her thighs.  She was moaning with pleasure.  We moved over to the bed and I undressed. I resumed my position next to her, parted her labia, and began licking her clitoris.  She was very wet.  I think she had a mild orgasm.  For the third time during that session, she sat bolt upright and looked at her watch.

            ‘Kelvin, do you want me to wank you off, suck you off, or would you prefer to fuck me?’

            ‘Mm.  Let me think about that for a moment.’  She frowned, her eyes wide.  

            ‘Huh, baby?

            ‘I would very much like to fuck you, please.’  She feigned shock, while continuing to open the condom-drawer and get one out for me.

            ‘What a disgusting way to talk.  You should be ashamed.’

            ‘I am utterly overcome with guilt and remorse – quite prostrated,’ I said, as I sheathed myself, climbed on top of her and slid my pulsating erection inside her.  She pulled her basque down to reveal her smallish, pointy, freckly tits, with very brown nipples.  I fucked her very slowly, very rhythmically, and very hard.  We both grunted in unison with the muscular effort.  By the tenth exclamation, we were both coming strenuously.  

            After a few brief moments for recovery and token exchanges of affection, we wiped up, and I got dressed while Olivia went to turn the shower on.  We had gone slightly over time and she was fretting about it.  I told her not to worry and to let me know if Anna ticked her off about it.  She forgot to ask me for the money.  I left five sovereigns on the coffee table before I let myself out.  As I was shutting the door, I darted back into the room, and deposited another sovereign.

            I sent Anna a text message: Mission accomplished.

*

Mm.  Oh, yes, Kelvin.  You did accomplish that mission very satisfactorily.  You deserve a medal for that.  Ooh, baby.