Cleaner Christmas

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"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Angela shouted above me as the first orgasm hit her. I kept licking as her body writhed above me. Again she wriggled through another orgasm and a third.

She slumped slightly and then began to turn around. I had to hurriedly reposition my mouth to keep in the right place. She pushed my boxers down and her hands gently cradled my stiff erection. I shuddered as her warm mouth closed around it. We were in a great sixty-nine position and I had lost any sense that I was trying to please her. We were pleasing each other, lost in each other's bodies. Her breasts slid over my naked chest as she moved up and down, pushing her pussy hard into my face, lifting, before thrusting again.

I had lost count of time, of anything except Angela's lips around me erection and pushing onto my tongue. She shuddered again and as she did I came into her mouth. She slumped on top of me. I had to move my head slightly to avoid being suffocated under her.

She lifted herself, pulled my boxer shorts up again, and eased herself off me. She stood beside the bed, looking at me. I'm sure I must have had an inane grin on my face. She wiped it with the hem of her dress.

"Stay there, John, while I check the meal," she said. "Not that you have an option, do you?"

My wrists were firmly held. Our struggles had tightened the knots in her pantyhose bonds. Once Angela had left I pulled gently on one of the restraints. I was tied securely to Angela's bed and would have to stay there until she decided to release me.

She came back carrying two glasses of red wine. She held one to my lips and let me sip before putting them both down beside the bed.

"Well, John, can you imagine doing this with Monica?"

I shook my head.

"No. I don't think of her this way."

"I didn't think you did. What would you like to do now?"

"Tie you up like this..."

"Not now, John. Maybe another time. Our meal is ready but you're not."

Angela took a craft knife out of her skirt pocket and sliced through the pantyhose bonds. I rubbed my wrists where they had been marked.

"Get dressed. See you in the kitchen."

Angela left. It took me longer to dress than I expected. My hands were still numb and I had pins and needles as the circulation returned. Nylon pantyhose bonds can restrict blood flow. I wouldn't want to have been restrained with them for much longer.

In the kitchen Angela was putting her white apron back on. She twirled around, splaying her skirt.

"You like me in uniform, don't you?"

"Yes," I said. "You were dressed like that when I first asked you out. But that's your full dress uniform, not what you wear at the Home. Those clothes aren't so sexy."

Angela smoothed down her apron.

"No. This isn't practical for every day. And I won't ever wear this again, except for you."

"Never?"

I must have sounded disappointed.

"Never! I'm a fully qualified nurse according to Lady Agnes. The next time I wear the formal uniform it will be a different colour. We can keep this for playing around."

"That sounds like a good idea. But I still want revenge for being tied up."

"That'll have to wait. Dinner is ready."

While we ate we discussed what Lady Agnes had arranged. We were still coming to terms with the enormity of what she had achieved in a couple of days. No wonder organisations wanted her to be involved. A couple of hours of her attention made more things happen than most people could do in a month.

I didn't get the opportunity to tie Angela up. I didn't get home either, until early next morning. I woke up naked with a bare Angela resting her head on my shoulder. We were too exhausted after an energetic night for more than a kiss and cuddle before I rushed back to my flat for a shower and a change.

I was back to collect Angela at nine o'clock. We walked hand in hand to see Monica. She opened the door to see us standing hand in hand.

She hugged and kissed us both. She seemed very happy to see us.

"I see that Angela has forgiven you," she said, looking at our joined hands.

"I've forgiven him," Angela said. "Should I forgive you, Monica? He's mine."

"I know he is. You should be proud of him. He could have kissed me more. He resisted the temptation. I had to kiss him."

"And I've told him that you can kiss him whenever you want to. But he can only kiss you when YOU want him to."

"You trust him that much, Angela?" Monica was startled.

"I trust him, and you."

"Thank you. I'll try to deserve your trust, but he is kissable..."

Angela and Monica demonstrated that.

"Where are the twins?" I managed to ask when I could breathe.

"Mary collected them half an hour ago," was Monica's surprising answer. She told me everything that Lady Agnes had arranged. The hostel is moving her belongings now. They're coming back here," She looked at her watch, "in half an hour, to collect all the twins' stuff."

"So we don't need to tell you anything?" Angela asked. "I'm not sure about that," Monica replied. "Mary was so full of the details about her, the twins and me, that she didn't say much about anything else. Come in and have some of David's coffee."

Mary had left a lot out. We told Monica about Tony, that we knew that her mother had been injured, the arrangements Lady Agnes had made for our employment, and even the card school.

"Did Mary say anything about what Lady Agnes was offering you?" I asked cautiously.

"Except for the small cottage next to Mary, no. Was there anything else?"

"She wants you," Angela said.

"She wants me? For what?"

"To be the Home's hairdresser. She's offering you a job." Angela added.

Monica slumped. She looked shocked.

"A job. On site? As a hairdresser?"

"Yes," Angela and I said as one.

I reached into my jacket pocket.

"Here is the official job offer," I said. "I don't know the terms. Lady Agnes gave me this sealed envelope."

Monica nearly dropped it. She looked at the typed name.

"It's for me," she said wonderingly.

"Open it!" Angela ordered.

Monica opened it as if it would bite. She slid the two pieces of paper out gingerly, spread it out and looked. Her face paled. Her hand shook. She pushed it at me.

"Read it, John, please. I can't believe it. It can't be true. I'm sure it can't..."

I looked. It was a formal job offer to Monica to be the resident, the word resident underlined, hairdresser to the Trustees of the Home, with accommodation provided at a cost of threepence a week to include all rent, rates and service charges. The salary, to be paid monthly in advance, was more than I had been earning in yesterday's job, but less than I was earning in today's.

"It's true, Monica. All you have to do is sign to accept the offer," I said, reaching for a pen.

She laid the papers on the table, took my pen, looked at us with tears streaming down her cheeks, and signed both copies. I took back my pen and one of the copies and slid them back in my pocket.

"Welcome to the family, Monica," Angela said. "You're one of us now. All you have to do is move out of here. John will get the Home's van while we start packing."

"Packing? There isn't much. Apart from the twins' stuff which is going, there's the food parcels and a couple of changes of clothes and bedding. This dump was called 'furnished'."

"Go get that van, John," Angela ordered. "we'll be ready as soon as you are back."

"He's not going without a kiss," Monica protested.

"He can," Angela said. "we can give him as many kisses as he deserves when you're in your new home. Go, John, go!"

I went. The flat door was still open as I started down the stairs. I heard Monica's voice.

"How can you order John around like that?"

I stopped to hear Angela's reply.

"Because he loves me -- unconditionally. I can tell him to do things and he will. He could order me around too. I would do what he wants because I love him just as much. He knows and I know that there will be a reward for doing what we want and that we won't tell each other to do anything unreasonable."

"That's amazing, Angela. I wish someone loved me that much."

"You'll find someone, Monica. In the meantime, you too could tell John what to do. He'll do it. Because he loves you and because he has my permission..."

At that point the door closed. I went down the rest of the stairs with a warm glow in my heart. It was great to be loved like that.

At the Home I met Julie, the manager. She welcomed me as a new employee but got straight to the point.

"Which van do you want, John? There's the large box van, or the small car-sized one."

"The small one, please Julie. Monica hasn't got much to move and I've never driven anything large. I'd rather make two trips, if I have to, with a small van. Is that OK?"

"Of course."

She lifted a set of keys from a rack and passed them to me.

"It's parked in the road outside."

She told me the registration number. I didn't really need that. There were only two vehicles parked in the road, the large van and the small one. I got in and pushed the seat right back. Whoever had been driving before me had short legs. I checked the fuel gauge which showed nearly full and set off.

When I turned into the road by Monica's flat I suppose I had been away for quarter of an hour. As I turned off the engine and got out I heard shouting. There was a male voice and Angela's.

I ran towards the flat and up the stairs, hearing loud thuds and several more voices shouting as I came. I recognised Monica's voice. She was shouting at Tony. As I turned the corner at the top of the stairs I saw Tony. He was punching Monica's landlord who was between Tony and the shattered flat door.

For an overweight man in his fifties the landlord was doing a creditable job of keeping Tony away from the door. But as I arrived at the top of the stairs Tony hit him hard over the heart and the landlord's face went grey. He slumped sideways as I grabbed Tony by a shoulder and swung him round. I was still one step below the landing.

"You!" Tony shouted. "What have you got to do with this? It's a family matter!"

He was obviously drunk. His first punch went wide as I dodged it. My return was weak, glancing off his body. His second punch caught me on the left arm. That annoyed me. He shouldn't have been able to make contact. I hit him hard in the centre of his chest. He didn't seem to feel it. I hit again, lower down. That brought his head within reach. Without thinking I reacted. My straight right hit his nose with a satisfying crunch. I had broken it.

Tony's hands flew up to his face. I pushed him backwards and stepped on to the landing. He rushed at me. I grabbed the railing and swivelled. His rush carried him on to the stairs. My foot helped him on the way down. He managed to stop himself half way down and turned to climb back up.

He reached into a pocket and produced a butterfly knife, flicking it open.

"Right, you bastard! You're for it now!" He shouted.

I could hear women screeching behind me. I didn't need them to tell me that Tony had a knife. He obviously didn't know much about knife fighting. He was holding it above his head, point downwards, as if he was going to stab Colonel Mustard in the Library.

I blocked his downward stroke with my left arm, sweeping his arm aside. My right hand was gripping the railing, giving me leverage for a perfectly executed kick to Tony's balls.

The knife clattered down the outside of the staircase as I brought my foot back and lifted my knee into his shattered nose. He fell backwards down the stairs, staggered upright but straight into David, who grabbed Tony and swung him to mash his shattered nose against the wall. I ran down stairs. David and I stood over Tony as he moaned on the ground.

I heard a stampede of women's feet down the stairs. Angela flung her arms around me.

"Are you OK?" she yelled at me.

Monica was hugging and kissing David. She stopped for a second to swing a foot into Tony's body. It was more of a gesture than a real blow.

In the distance I could hear approaching Police sirens. I kissed Monica and assured her I was uncut and whole. I might have a small bruise on my left arm, but I had repaid Tony in full.

The landlord came slowly down the stairs followed by Lady Agnes. What was she doing here?

The Police arrested Tony for assault, criminal damage and possession of an offensive weapon. We sat in the flat as we gave statements. The Police were shocked that Tony had actually swung a punch at Lady Agnes who had avoided it.

How had Tony found out where Monica was? Apparently one of his low-life mates had overheard Sophie, David's sister, in a supermarket queue talking about Monica and the twins. She had shut up as soon as she realised someone was paying too much attention and had rung David at work to admit her indiscretion. David had tried ringing me at my old office, couldn't contact me, so had rushed round to Monica's flat. If Tony had been half an hour later he would have missed finding Monica.

David's concern was well-rewarded. As soon as the Police had gone, Monica, ignoring the rest of us, jumped on David's lap and kissed him breathless. In the next few weeks she sank her claws hard into David. He didn't know what had hit him as he went around with a great smile on his face. Monica had claimed him.

The consequences of Tony's actions were satisfactory for all of us. When he came to trial, Lady Agnes in the witness box was devastating for Tony's defence. A domestic argument was one thing. Assaulting such a prominent member of the community, a magistrate no less, was heinous. He was sent to jail for five years with a recommendation that he should be carefully assessed for possible danger to the public if considered for early release.

The landlord gave evidence as well. Tony was required to pay compensation for the damage to the flat's door. He went to prison with an empty bank account. Lady Agnes had a quiet word with the landlord after the trial, warning him that his actions were a matter of concern. Action would be taken unless he treated his tenants better.

Lady Agnes was pleased that she had sorted us youngsters out so satisfactorily and moved on to other community problems.

Mary and Monica's father arrived, collected his wife from hospital, and was really delighted with his grandsons. The Ministry of Defence (Navy) appointed him to a shore-based post in London that he could commute to and from so he was able to enjoy being a grandfather at weekends.

One thing none of us except Mary and her family had known. Tony wasn't the father of the twins. Mary's former boyfriend Alex was. Mary had returned to him 'for an old times' sake' one night stand when Tony was being really obnoxious. She hadn't told Alex that she was married. When Mary divorced Tony, she contacted Alex. He was delighted to meet her again, slightly stunned to be told he was a father of twins, but he was very willing to marry Mary and be the father of a family.

Christmas at the Old People's Home? As a new employee I was delighted to help Angela with the decorations, to be Father Christmas, including for Mary's twins, and to spend many delightful evenings in Angela's staff flat. The Christmas Party included the younger guests Monica and David, Mary, Alex and their twins, and Angela and me. Lady Agnes toasted each couple and hoped to hear wedding bells before next Christmas.

She did. She was a guest of honour at my wedding to Angela, at Monica and David's and at Mary and Alex's.

The card school at the Home wasn't continued long. Although the card school members often played cards with some of the residents, they lost too often to people with forty or fifty years more card-playing experience. The main reason for the card school's end was that so many of us were newly married men, and the delights of the marital bed were greater than playing cards.

Angela and I devised much more exciting games for each other than three-card brag.

The End

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25 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

So very, very well done. Your stories are deeply appreciated. Thank you so much.

LWlurker

AnonymousAnonymousover 3 years ago
Another lesson

One day, I'll be better. . . .

Thank You

HP

AnonymousAnonymousover 5 years ago
A cracker

Another damned good tale.

Thank you

HP

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 7 years ago
5*

Great story

AnonymousAnonymousover 7 years ago
Good story.

As I remember " the old Pounds Shillings and Pence " you made me feel old. But still enjoyed the story, thanks.

auhunter04auhunter04about 9 years ago
It's your story

present it however you wish. I cannot put any value on remarks made by a person who does not identify themselves, neither should you

AnonymousAnonymousabout 9 years ago
Great story

But it's too much too soon. Try breaking it into a series of say 3-4 parts

The outline is great. Even though it all happens in a few days it will make a good read with more happening through the dialog than the narration. In first person action if you get my meaning.

The sex scenes are not needed maybe a few teasers IF you want, a first time/ heavy make-out scene with David and Monica and say another romantic one with Alex and Mary. But that's about it, the real meat here is the story itself. Let it evolve oggbashan.

Of course you don't need to do any of these :D :D. But a girl can hope can't she.

Esbee

PS: And I wish real life was as good when things go bad. But I love happily ever afters

oggbashanoggbashanover 10 years agoAuthor
Now edited - DVD gone!

Now the 2013 Winter Holiday Contest has ended, I have edited this story to take out the anachronism - the DVD. Apologies for missing that when I edited the story before submitting it.

oggbashanoggbashanover 10 years agoAuthor
Sorry cupcakesparky

I regret that you didn't allow for differences between US and UK usage. The word 'pussy' for the female parts has been in use in the UK since the 17th Century (Dictionary of Historical Slang) and was certainly current in London in the 1960s.

Shaved pudenda came with very short miniskirts, also in London in the 1960s, because hairy ones could sometimes be seen through tights/pantyhose particularly if the hairs extended beyond the panties.

There was some initial concern when meeting the first shaved pussies, because before the 1960s the usual reason for having that area shaved was to deal with pubic lice. Yuck!

How do I know? I was active in London in the 1960s as a Lit-legal aged adult in Soho, Chelsea and Belgravia. Many of the young ladies I met and went out with at the time wore very short mini-skirts that might just cover their crotch when standing but exposed the crotch when sitting. Pantyhose and reasonably full panties protected their modesty.

If and when I took a young lady out for the day by car and we visited places beyond London, her miniskirt attracted considerable attention because the current very short London length hadn't reached even 25 miles outside London.

cupcakesparkycupcakesparkyover 10 years ago
Would've been a 5...

...but timeline continuity was weird. You know about the DVD (wow that really took me right out of the story) but also: no way would Angela have shaved her pubes. I'm not even sure the word pussy was in vogue, but am positive that in the age of bra-burning there were no bald pussies. John seems extremely inexperienced yet calls his new girlfriend's (they'd been a couple five minutes and were having sex when he seemed to have never given oral before?!?) womanhood a pussy? Doubt that.

Too bad, because overall it was a great story. If you're writing a period piece, you need to write about what was happening THEN -- she'd have had a bush, he would've been shocked as hell if their first time involved her blowing him, and there were no DVDs -- nor were there movies on tv that were less than 10 years old. So don't "correct" that mistake with another.

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