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15 Mayıs 2023, 10:20
She turned from the kitchen counter and looked straight into my eyes. Her finger went down to her fly-zip and she smiled. ?You know what the Ghurkas say about their kukris don?t you?? I nodded. ?Say it.? Her look was stern.*?If you take it out you have to use it.?*Her grin was the grin of a wolf spotting a lame goat.*~~~*I met Lady Maria Picton, wife of General Sir Peregrine Picton, in the restaurant of a huge mausoleum of a Victorian hotel facing the sea. Sun sparkled on the water and small boats bustled across our view as we took our seats on the verandah in the warm June sunshine.*1940 and Britain was once again at war. My husband, Colonel Sir Joliffe Gardner was based in London, working on the General Staff and hers had had to fly to Scotland. A waiter fussed around us, pouring water, spreading napkins, taking our luncheon order. At last, we were alone.*She smiled at me. ?May I call you Susan??*Maria Picton was the product of a Spanish mother and an English father, both aristocrats, and she had the haughty, full-lipped and black-eyed features of her Iberian blood mixed with the fine cheekbones and dark blonde hair of her paternity.*?Of course.?*?Then you must call me Maria.*We are, after all. equals.?*I arranged my napkin and looked at her. The simplicity of her grey dress belied its cost and seemed to cup her large breasts, as if two hands were sewn inside it.*Her generous cleavage far more visible than would be normal for an Englishwoman except, perhaps, in an evening gown.*?My husband does not, I think, share your opinion.?*?Then he is a fool.?*I smiled. ?Perhaps so. He has risked a great deal by embarking on an affaire with you.?*God, I thought, but she is good. Not a flicker crossed those dark eyes, no colour changed her skin tone, nor did she glance around to see if anyone could hear me.*?Your husband was kind enough to escort me to the theatre while you were visiting your sick mother and my husband was away in London.?*I Beşevler escort (http://besevler.t2bro.net/) reached into my small black clutch bag and pulled out an earring. ?Did you perhaps lose this at the theatre? If so, it is a remarkable thing that I found it in my husband?s suitcase.?*?You search your husband?s belongings like a common chambermaid?? Still no sign of fluster.*?In fact, I was secreting a letter of good wishes in his suitcase when I found it and recognised it as yours. You may not be surprised that the letter did not travel with him.?*I paused as the waiter returned with our first course and poured a dry Chablis into our two glasses.*?We are, Susan, women of rank, status, sophistication. I do hope this is not going to be an unseemly encounter??*?So do I. However, the wives of Major Winton and Captain Horrocks may not be quite as sanguine as I.?*?Are you suggesting that I have fucked the entire regiment??*?With the possible exception of the regimental goat, yes, perhaps.?*The director screamed a frustrated ?Cut? as Marilyn Foster and I collapsed into hysterical laughter, the last two lines line having been extemporised. We had said before while attempting to film the scene that it was dialogue worthy of a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl and we?d been fucking about with the lines all morning. Andre Boussin, the director, had had enough and was stomping off muttering about ?fucking amateurs? and telling the crew to close up for the day and ?hope they can behave like adults on Monday.?*Marilyn and I retired to her dressing suite where she poured us both a large gin and tonic. The film was called, ?Wartime.?*?He?s such an arse, Faye,? said Marilyn. ?Can't he see or*hear what crap it is?? She handed me my glass.*?Darling, you forget. He wrote it.?*?Oh, my God. Did he?? More laughter.*My dress was straight out of the 1940s. It buttoned down the front and had a thin black belt. Less glamorous than Marilyn?s Çankaya escort bayan (http://cankaya.t2bro.net/) but she was the femme fatale of the film and I was the ?normal? army wife.*Marilyn, or Maz as she was usually known, was a good mate, we?d worked together a few times and she, like me, was as gay as a village fete, promiscuous and libidinous. Tall, butch in ?civvies? and very much inclined to take the lead, she?d first had me when we?d been at a party thrown by Hollywood producer, Dolly Stern. On that occasion, we?d been having a drink together and she?d said, ? A little bird tells me you?re queer too. Anyone special??*?Happily single,? which had been true at the time.*?Me too, determinedly so in fact. In this game, one is surrounded by so many beautiful women what?s the fucking point of chaining yourself to one??*So, with her position clear, sex but don?t expect more, she?d taken me first to a side room and later back to my hotel room and fucked me senseless. Here we were, a few years later and she was still single, as was I, and working together was once again a pleasure.*?Tell you what. Why don?t we go to your apartment,? we were filming in London, ?and get ourselves a bit pissed and fed and fucked? Appeal??*I agreed and went to my own dressing room and stripped off, got the slap off my face and put my own clothes on. I met her in the car park and she looked fabulous. Five feet ten inches and, with the wig removed, her natural silver hair (not a product of age) cut in a manly style and wearing very tight black leather trousers and jacket.*We clambered into my car and I asked my driver to deliver us to my apartment. The limo had a small bar and I poured us both a glass of champagne. With the dark screen between us and the driver, we were assured privacy and so I was not at all surprised when Marilyn?s hand went inside my dress and cupped my braless tit and held me for a few moments while she sipped her wine.*For Escort Cebeci (http://cebeci.t2bro.net/) my part I let my hand rest on her thigh, conscious of a very unnatural and hard lump in her leather trousers.*She grinned. ?I?m not going to rush this tonight, Faye. We?re going to take our time. But, as you may have divined, one is, as the Americans might put it, ?packing.??*?Fine with me on both counts. Not sure how I could have failed to notice in those! How do you get into them??*?Concentrate on getting me out of them! Can we get some grub delivered though, I?m ravenous.? I said of course we could. ?Marvellous.?*Forty minutes later and we arrived at my place. I told her I was going to have a shower and change and asked if she?d like to join me.*?No, darling, I had one in my dressing room. You go and get yourself into something sexy for me and I?ll sort the meal and pour us a drink.?*I went through to my bedroom and stripped off, showered and put on a favourite: a sheer, white silk top, loose and long-sleeved that reached the hem of matching shorts; so sheer she could see my trimmed triangle and the darkness of my nipples. I wandered back to the kitchen.*?Whoa,? Maz smiled. ?Sexy! Well done you.?*?Thank you kindly.? I bowed theatrically. She handed me a glass of wine and we sat either side of my kitchen island and nattered for a while about friends, enemies, colleagues and our shared agent, Flick Caterham, a force of nature.*Maz smiled when I asked her if she?d met Flick?s assistant, Phoebe; legs that went on and on, figure to die for and ridiculously straight. ?Of course I have. Took her for a drink too.?*?Oh??*She nodded. ?No good, far too straight. I don?t think she even knew I was coming on to her.?*?I bet she did, she?s smart that one.?*We were interrupted by the arrival of our supper and I hid in my room while Maz organised it with the delivery girl. I took my shorts off while I waited and fingered myself a little. When she?d gone I went back into the kitchen to find Maz putting everything in the oven to keep warm.*She turned from the kitchen counter and looked straight into my eyes. Her finger went down to her fly-zip and she smiled. ?You know what the Ghurkas say about their kukris don?t you?? I nodded. ?Say it.? Her look was stern.