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Bishop Takes Knight – Knight takes Bishop Part Five
The roof of the dark limousine was spattered and spotted with bits of a light rain that started to fall early that Saturday evening as the car left the West End and turned south. It wasn’t really enough for the driver to want to turn on the wipers; they’d merely streak the windshield and make things harder to see. He decided to leave them off and use them when it got worse. It never did. The cloudy night threatened to rain hard but never made good on its promise and it certainly didn’t stop restless Londoners from being “out and about” for an otherwise pleasant June evening; crowding along the streets and the at crosswalks.
The rain did nothing to dampen the collective sense of anticipation for the three passengers seated elegantly in the rear of the car either. The atmosphere inside the back of the limo was a heady mood of expectation and promise. This was to be an evening to remember and like all evenings involving Annette Bishop; it was an evening to be forgotten and most certainly – never mentioned!
What happened you see; in the clubs of London, the salons of Paris, the floorshows of Amsterdam and Hamburg, the hotels of Tokyo, and in this case; the posh home of her friend Anika in Surrey — damned well stayed there! Bradley Knight and Shelby, his pint-sized pixie sidekick were keenly aware of that fact. They sat on either side of Annette; their maven of carnal mayhem, as the sleek black car drove them quietly through the streets to a “quiet get-together.”
The night before the three had nearly brought the roof down on Anika’s club with their high-charged antics that culminated with Shelby and Annette servicing several men and Brad bumming the midget-barmaid Penelope; all actions taking place through cleverly constructed glory-holes beneath one of the club’s bars. Anika of course knew a good thing when she’d seen it and she not only invited her old friend Annette to attend her “hyper-party” this evening; she absolutely insisted that Annette “please bring her two cubs,” for an enjoyable evening at her country house in Surrey.
Knowing what a swirling cauldron of wanton debauchery that something so simple as a mere dinner at Anika’s could be; well, the prospect of a hyper-party at the estate was simply too much to say, “some other time perhaps?” She accepted right there on the spot before she then she took her cubs home to her West-End flat and shagged them to sleep with the help of her maid Felicia; all four people ending up in a completely spent heap of lovely naked flesh and post-clubbing unconsciousness!
Annette and the cubs had slept late that day. It was Felicia the maid who was the first to stir. She silently padded her delectably naked Spanish bum from the room and put together a breakfast for the boss and her two interns.
When the three sleepyheads finally acknowledged that it was indeed Saturday morning and that they could no-longer ignore the daylight creeping in between the blinds, they resorted to one of the tried and truest cures for a bad “morning-after head”; a good howling three-way fuck. Since the time of the ancient Romans; it was well known that good solid morning shagging was a sure-fire cure for a hangover and Annette it seemed was a fan of old remedies. As Felicia stepped through the door with the breakfast tray (clothed only in her earrings from the night before), the scene that met her was nothing short of spectacular!
Apparently when Annette had finally stirred, she glanced over at young Brad and saw he’d one of those pieces of morning wood between his legs that would have been the envy of any Brazilian logging firm. It was a veritable monolith; a stark prominent “Bone-Henge” pushing up the bed sheets (and worthy of a BBC documentary as far as Annette was concerned). No sense letting it go to waste!
She immediately went to work upon him with hands lips and tongue. He roused in rather good order as the stunningly beautiful brunette with her short head of raven-black hair clamped lips and jaw upon him; sucking him fully awake. In no time at all, he’d flipped over on top of her and given her a lovely hard rogering; pinning her to the mattress and giving her the “good-morning crushing poke” between the legs that she sooo desired.
She came; he hadn’t yet. She looked over at the still slumbering Shelby and then back at him suggestively with her eyes. She was a bad-bad girl when she had a mind to be!
A minute later the two were mounted atop Shelby; the girl lying on her back with Annette riding the pan-sexual little pixie’s pretty face as if it were a bicycle seat and Brad pounding his proud piece of pork into the girl’s pouty pink poo-pucker. Annette held Shelby’s ankles aloft like two elegant handle-bars as Brad leaned forward; his lips finding Annette’s in a warm sucking kiss that was laden with sexual hunger and energy. güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri Annette responded with a heartfelt moan of passionate appreciation… any man could fuck but a good kisser was a true find!
He didn’t merely kiss her; he made love to her mouth with his lips teeth and tongue. With one hand she caressed his face, graciously receiving his delicious mouth upon hers. She then remembered her other cub who was supping down below so hungrily. She dropped her free hand down to Shelby’s vacant pussy for a torrid finger-fucking to show her lovely Sapphic disciple that her attentions were “most appreciated indeed!”
What her fingers felt inside the girl’s cunt was nothing short of exquisitely hot and horny! On the other side of Shelby’s puss-wall Annette could feel every veiny thrust of Bradley Knight’s cock as her young stud plowed himself up into the girl’s arsehole with forceful vigor! It was then Annette’s eyes caught sight of the beautifully nude maid with the breakfast tray and she pulled away from her smooch with Brad to say,
“Oh good Felicia, set that over there please,” motioning to a side table with her pretty black haired noggin. The maid did as requested by her lady and she started to spin to leave the room but Annette then finished her sentence with, “and join us dear!”
If the scene’s beginning had been spectacular, its ending was nothing short of epic! It ended as many scenes did with Annette. There was a yell of OOOHHH YEEESSSS! by some happy member of the party, followed by a chorus of AAAGGGHHs and OH GOD OH GOD OH GODs from other equally enthusiastic participants; all amid a great deal of heated thrashings and splashings. The aftermath resembled a Napoleonic battlefield; with dramatically twisted bodies littering the scene; with chests heaving and appearing to draw last gasps in the post climactic stillness. All they needed now was a tattered banner lying nearby and a bugler far off in the distance calling for a retreat.
Afterwards, following a delightfully boisterous breakfast; four naked bums plopped into Annette’s oversized garden tub for a little rub n’ scrub cleanup. As soapy brushes swirled around naked bodies and bubbles danced upon the ends of noses, Annette received a text on her phone from Anika. She took the message then stared into the bubbles thinking hard. She lifted her face upward to Brad and Shelby with an announcement, her lips forming a happy smile as she spoke. She’d decided it was time for her handsome intern Brad to have his first taste of responsibility as a special projects officer.
“Brad,” she said as if she were peering at him over her desk back in the Shard building, “I have a short-order task for you to execute for tonight.” He looked back at her, paying keen attention as the champagne glass in his hand was filled by Felicia seated on his lap. Then naughty maid shimmied her perfect heart-shape ass around against his cock in a pleasing-teasing fashion that was nothing short of delightful as Annette continued to explain.
“Anika needs to adjust the head count for tonight’s party?”
“Adjust the head-count?” he asked.
“The boy-girl ratio,” Shelby answered -impertinent as always, “is not where Anika would like it to be. When something like that happens, ringers get called in.”
“Ringers,” he said incredulously, “for a party?”
“A short list,” Shelby continued to interrupt (little miss-know-it-all that she was), “of people whom can be trusted with keeping a party interesting.”
“Yes,” she continued lifting her leg up from the bubbles and flexing before dropping it back into the steamy depths, “swordsmen.”
“Yes,” Shelby replied wondering suddenly if she’d just let the village idiot cum inside her asshole. She was now quite annoyed as it was readily apparent she’d need to explain EVERYTHING. Men could be so stupid sometimes and she slowed down as if she were talking to a basset hound puppy whom she was telling to please go on the paper,
“LADs …WITH… LARGE …COCKS!”
Annette sat back against the rim of the tub and let her young comely acolyte Shelby continue to explain as Chad sipped his champagne and listened intently.
“Annette has a list of regular guys that come to her parties; her usual suspects. Anika has been to a few of Annette’s little “get-togethers” and there is always an expectation that a certain type of male will be present; the well-endowed type!” Annette now cut-in for Shelby,
“I knew that Anika wasn’t merely kicking an invitation our way simply because we are old friends. She wanted to know if a few riding ponies from my stable could be provided but she didn’t say anything at the time as it might have been poor form; I just strongly suspected as much but her text this morning confirms it.”
“That’s güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri where I come in,” Shelby interrupted again, “its normally ME who gets in touch with all the “long-fellows of the short list.” I have them RSVP back to me with a “yes” or a “sorry-luv-but I have a fing to go to.” She shifted and squirmed a bit in the tub and let-go a little FLURP-SQUONK! of a fart as some of Brad’s cum leaked from her bum. Perhaps she’d been a bit too harsh on her fellow intern – it really was good bum-fucking he’d given her as a wake-up this morning and she was pleased that Annette was sharing him with her. Yes, she’d been too hard and she made up her mind she wouldn’t leave him in the lurch on this project.
“So this party,” Brad asked, “it’s all going to be good looking well-hung lads in a sword fight over a handful of birds?”
“Oh no,” Annette chimed in, “there will be several people of a more ordinary sort of both sexes; a lot are people connected to the London underground societies and there are a few people who enjoy a certain amount of …celebrity, power, and influence; shall we say? You’d do best to enjoy the party but not breath a word as to whom it was that happened to attend or even that the party happened at all. Quite a few famous faces attend… and they bring their boobs cocks, cunnies and bums with them expecting to rub them against lovely beautiful flesh! My short-list of bats-men ensures the celebrity ladies who desire a frolic in a forest of hard-woods are not disappointed.”
“And for those average-looking but famous blokes in need of attractive female companionship?” Brad asked as Felicia refilled his glass and teasingly squirmed her bum around his cock again in the bubbles.
“Anika,” Shelby answered, “has a short-list of her own; although it’s a considerably longer short-list than ours; girlfriends, waitresses at her club, dancers, and of course she has a few service- numbers she dials for such occasions.”
“Service-numbers,” Brad observed in between sips of his glass trying not to spill despite Felicia’s bum- wriggles, “you mean call-girls?”
“She means,” Annette cut-in, “absolutely stunning call girls of an elite category. These are Olympic-class athletes in the world of courtesans and they don’t come cheap. WE aren’t paying anything, but I’m certain that a few invitees have shilled out a pretty penny to attend. I imagine she’s already activated THAT phone list so the suppliers could meet the lead-time and book the flights.”
“Let’s just say,” Annette said as she moved across the tub to where Felicia was seated on Brad’s lap beneath the suds and bubbles, “that THIS party has most likely involved already a significant number of passports being stamped and an army of taxis heading to airports. Only the best.” She leaned forward and kissed Felicia’s lips tenderly as her fingers groped in the suds to find the maid’s clit and cunt-hole. She brought her free hand around to the woman’s backside; finding Brad’s hard veiny cock. She pushed the head up against the pucker of her servant’s anus. If there was one skill set that Annette Bishop had mastered in her forty-three years on earth, it was bringing talented beautiful people “together.”
Shelby leaned back in the bubbles and parted her legs. She watched the three before her as they put on a lurid aquatic show while her fingers strummed away on her own clit in voyeuristic appreciation. She’d made her mind up that Brad would not fail with this first task in the new job.
A bit before noon Felicia brought a light lunch of soup bread and tea to the balcony as Shelby and Brad finished the initial contacts on the short-list in a flurry of texts and invites. A few well-endowed champions had already RSVP’d; promising their veiney sword in Annette’s service and the “Fellowship of the Ding-a-ling” was swelling in its ranks with every minute. Meanwhile, Annette was on her phone, ordering another delivery of “play-clothes” for her cubs. Her task was two-fold. She wanted to reward them for a job well done; she also wanted them to look good for the posh, high-end fuckathon that would take place at Anika’s.
She was taking everything with relation the appearance of both her cubs into consideration, (and that included Shelby and Brad’s hair). Shelby could get away with her “look” but something simply HAD to be done about Brad. Sebastian, her “hair performance artist,” had already texted her back saying he’d be able to drop by her flat and give Annette’s new boy-toy a new look. A second glance at Shelby’s “look” and Annette decided it would have to go as well. She texted Sebastian again with another simple message,
“BRING CYRIL WITH U!”
The afternoon progressed smoothly enough. Sebastian came with a younger man name Cyril and the two “licensed necromancers with a set of clippers,” went to work güvenilir bahis şirketleri on the cubs; raising their looks from the dead. Sebastian resurrected Brad’s rather boyish and still bratty head of hair into a rather euro-looking man-cut. The young man now definitely looked like he should be affecting a bit of an accent from somewhere on the continent after Sebastian was through with him.
Meanwhile Cyril took Shelby’s shoulder-length mane and restyled it into a shorter but incredibly sassy look that would be the envy of ANY sex-pixie! Cute blond locks now flipped around in front of her pretty face as she admired herself in the mirror and batted her eyes coquettishly in a gratuitous and un-abashed display of self-love. She definitely would not be buying her own drinks should Annette ever whisk her off to Neverland.
As Sebastian and Cyril departed following cheek kisses from Annette and promises for new business, she thought to herself those two really were a rare find for her. It wasn’t that they were hairstylists who made house calls on a Saturday: Annette had money and Saturday night was busy with a great deal of posh types needing to look good for the weekend. No… the thing was that both Sebastian and Cyril were true artists who worked in the medium of bangs and locks; scissors and blow dryers being their brushes. The proof in the pudding was when the two cubs looked at themselves in the mirror; pleasantly startled by their new looks… like two house cats let outside for the first time who’d never seen the grass of a garden but completely captivated by the sight and texture of it all!
Within the hour the play-clothes arrived for the cubs. As she’d done the night before; Annette had dressed them well; a purple silk shirt for Brad and a shorty green club-dress for Shelby with matching shoes. The color green loved her. Brad had a set of dark slacks and a pair of black cowboy boots. Dark colors seemed to make this tall handsome fellow look even a bit taller still. As the afternoon progressed and the RSVPs were finishing up; she put herself and her two naughty disciples down for a nap. There was one open ended problem with the evening however.
It seems Annette’s Limo driver Anthony, would need to be at the flat this evening with the car. She’d be pulling him in on his day-off, but with the party out of town she needed him. He never disappointed her. Today medical science forced Tony to make an exception.
He was sitting in the bath with a nasty chill and a horribly stuffy head when he got the text. He swore loud enough to shake the ceiling plaster in his flat. Bloody HELL that was all he needed! He felt simply awful and definitely was in no condition to drive by the way he felt.
It was strange; he’d been fine the night before but that morning when he’d rolled out of bed he felt simply dreadful. No… he wasn’t going anywhere. It was probably a twenty-four hour bug that had been going around but it wasn’t worth spreading it any further. He dialed a friend and called in a favor.
“Ted speaking,” a voice answered on the other end.
“Mate,” Tony sniffled into the phone, “going to cash in that chip I have with you.”
“What the fuck is with you?” the voice said, “you sound terrible!”
“What are you doing tonight?”
“There’s a match tonight. I was going to watch it on the telly, why?”
“You’ll probably have to listen to it on the car radio instead …come over and pick up my keys.”
Which brings us back to the sleek black limousine that now left Hammersmith and crossed the Thames heading south towards Richmond and beyond; the driver intent on making the M3 so that he could move along at a brisker pace. Sitting behind the wheel Ted Hardwick, cursed his luck. He’d been looking forward to a night off involving several pints at his flat with a match on the television and no bloody disturbances. What he got was a phone call and a change of plans. Well, he thought to himself, he owed Tony for what his friend had done for him… and it was only proper to return that favor. Inconveniences pass; coming and going like the rain but good friends stay with you and those relationships must be carefully preserved.
The fifty-five year old black man huffed out his breath through his lips in mild frustration and resigned himself to his fate; his eyes below his dark drivers cap scanning the motorway ahead. It would be a boring Saturday night for him; a milk run. Pick these people up at their flat, take ’em to the party, stand around waiting, and drive the three home. What a waste of an evening!
Well, at least he’d had the sense to catch dinner before he went out on the job. He wouldn’t even be able step away from the car to fetch himself a snack from the kitchen by the sound of things. When he’d gone over earlier in the afternoon to Tony’s to get the keys, his friend had been explicit.
“Don’t leave the car,” Tony told him as he sat in his bathrobe shivering and tossing the car keys to Ted, “These people are a bit, different. Don’t chat ’em up too much about this party you’re taking them to. They’re quite private sorts these people; they protect their privacy and the worry about their reputations.”
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