“You took that better than I expected. I’m impressed,” he said as his hand soothed the hot, inflamed flesh before sliding easily between her moist buttocks. Her still trembling legs parted slightly, easing his access. “And now I can see why.” The slick fingers casually explored the sensitive area. Homing in on the swollen target forced her to draw in a sharp intake of breath. The last remaining sobs quickly turned to sighs. The orgasm arrived quickly, the spanking had done most of the work. While she recovered he continued to soothe the flesh he had so recently damaged, occasionally pausing to kiss her back and neck.
“You see, you have it in you to go all the way with this. You just need the right encouragement. Achieving the important things in life is never easy. Having to learn lessons along the way shouldn’t be seen as a bad thing, it means that you’ll be better prepared for what the destination has to offer.” He gave her a couple of gentle pats to her buttocks, and a jolly voice said, “Now, why don’t you go and have a shower while I make a cup of tea, then I can show you how the game’s going.”
Laura’s third shower of the evening didn’t take long. In fact she probably spent more time looking over her shoulder into the mirror, assessing the damage to her inflamed behind. It looked far worse than it was. It no longer hurt but a pleasant glow lingered, reminding her of the experience. She joined Andrew who was leaning against his pillow studying his laptop.
“Your tea’s on the side, careful it’s hot.”
“What are you doing there?”
“Considering the next move. We’ve had a couple of moves while you were in the bathroom; Graham’s online.”
“How are we doing? Have you kicked his backside yet?”
“He’s just put us in check. Hmm… let’s see, we can block the check with a bishop or a knight.” He thought about it for a long while. Laura rested her head on his shoulder looking at the screen. “If we use the knight it will trap pieces in, leaving a bad situation. If we use the bishop it can be taken but we’ll be better off in the long run.”
“Did you feel that on your face?” She asked.
“No, what?”
“Something just flew straight over my head.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘don’t mind which option you choose darling’. Yeah, I thought so he’s taken the bishop, but don’t worry we can take his Knight. There we are.”
“Is all that good?”
“Actually it’s not bad, not bad at all. We’re in quite a strong position.” A ‘ding’ announced the arrival of a message. “It’s from Graham.”
Laura read the message. “Lets see, he says… ‘You are now two pawns and a bishop in arrears. Better up the search!’ I think he’s right. What with one thing and another I haven’t made any progress yet. Perhaps this weekend we could both try to fathom it out.”
“If you hadn’t so selfishly distracted me when I got in,” he joked, “I would have told you before. The people I had the meeting with want me to go and see their set-up. They run a shopping centre in Devon. They probably thought it would be good on a Saturday as it’s busier, might sway my opinion. Anyway, I thought we could take a drive down there and stay overnight, see a bit of the countryside, pub lunch and all that. What do you think?”
“Sounds great, but what about the chess problem?”
“It doesn’t matter where we are does it. The only way to research it is online, so we’ll take the laptop.”
“That sounds good. We could do with a weekend away.”
“I’ll sort it out during the week then.”
Andrew continued to use his laptop while Laura lay down, gazing at the ceiling, her head full of conflicting thoughts. She couldn’t deny the buzz she got from the thought of Andrew taking such a positive roll in the treatment she’d received. She obviously knew of the reward for winning but nobody had told her of the advantages which came from failure.
“You’re quiet.” Andrew said as he closed his laptop. “Everything all right?”
“I was just thinking about the new man who seems to have come into my life.” He lay down and pulled over the covers.
“Oh yes, what’s he like?” He held her tight, pushing the front of his body against her back. She wriggled her hot buttocks into his stomach.
“A bit of a shit. But I like him.”
13
It was a beautiful day for the drive down to Devon but driving west out of the city always seemed to be painfully slow. Whatever time of day or year you could assume there would be hold-ups for one reason or another. They used the time to discuss ways forward in the search for the missing pieces. Laura told him that she and Abbie had spent some time in the week looking for leads. All they had come up with so far was a sex shop in Bishops Way and a cheese shop on Bishop Hill who specialised in a cheese called ‘Stinking Bishop’. They both agreed to discard the cheese and even the sex shop would be a last resort.
The traffic had eased long before they finally passed a sign welcoming them to Devon. Even the magnificent views over miles of rolling countryside failed to lighten Andrews mood. “This is the main route to the West of England,” he moaned, “why don’t they upgrade it and let the traffic flow freely? It’s been a single lane for miles, we’re already behind schedule and we haven’t found the B&B yet.”
Laura, the one who always tried to see the good side of a situation, told him off. “Don’t be such an old grump. It’s beautiful countryside because it’s difficult to get to. It puts people off, that’s why its so quiet and peaceful.”
“It puts me off. I’ll write to somebody and complain when we get back.”
“There’s no need darling. They’ve probably heard you moaning for the last hour and a half.”
“Very funny. Look the B&B is about nine miles this side of the town.” He glanced at his watch. “If we go straight there and drop you off, I should be able to rush in and meet these people on time. Will you be all right getting a bite of lunch somewhere?”
“Of course I can. And don’t rush, it’s not worth having an accident.”
The instructions from the electronic voice in the dashboard led them down lanes of ever decreasing width until finally it issued the magic sentence—’You have reached your destination.’
“There we are then.” Andrew announced. “Looks okay doesn’t it?”
“It looks better than OK, it’s beautiful.” Laura corrected, admiring the building before them.
“A sixteenth century thatched Devon longhouse the website said. Run by a Mrs Harris and been in the family for generations. There’s not much around, and I didn’t see any pubs or anything for miles, but you can probably get lunch here.”
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry. You’d better get off or you’ll be late.”
“OK, I’ll see you later. Remember to get your bag out of the boot.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss.
Laura noticed that the short, thick door stood open as she approached the house. First impressions of the inside matched the expectations generated by the exterior. A tiny oak staircase twisted its way to the upper level. Three plank doors, so short they were almost square, remained closed; no doubt concealing her view of further hidden treasures. An ancient oak dresser filled one wall of the spacious foyer, neat piles of brochures promoting local attractions filled its smooth, worn surface. In the centre stood a notice ‘Welcome to Meadowbank’ and in front of it a brass bell.
The loud metallic jingle brought the sound of a door opening and footsteps approached from the long corridor. As the lady came into view Laura was pleased to see that she almost conformed to the stereotypical image she had built up of who would run such a house. The short dumpy woman—mid fifties Laura guessed—wore a flowery apron and her hair was held up in a scarf. As she walked she used the apron to wipe flour from her hands. Laura was hopeful that the woman had been interrupted whilst making fresh scones, her mouth watered.
“Ah, Mrs Miller is it? No Mr Miller then?” The woman’s west country accent completed the image. Perfect. “I’m Mrs Harris, welcome to Devon.” Her warm smile made Laura feel very welcome.
“My husband had to see some clients, he’ll be along later. It’s a delightful house you have here, and what a beautiful setting. You must love living here.”
“It’s quiet but that suits us just fine. Nobody to bother us here.” Picking up Laura’s bag Mrs Harris started climbing the creaky stairs. “We’ve nobody else booked in so you’ve got the big room at the end. Best there is, you won’t be disappointed.” At the top of the stairs Laura followed her down the long landing. Even when leaning her head to one side Laura’s shoulder still made contact with the low, sloping ceiling. Mrs Harris walked upright and was still clear by a couple of inches, she fit the place perfectly.
“The guest bathroom’s in here,” she said, opening the first door. Laura poked her head in to view the small, traditionally furnished room.
“Very nice indeed,” she said, and meant it.
“Glad you think so. We get a lot of you city folks expecting those posh bathrooms in the bedrooms.”
“En suite.” Laura chipped in, smiling to herself.
“Aye, that’s the ones. Can’t have them here see: we’re listed. Can’t go knocking about an old house like this just to keep up you know.”
“Quite. It’s not a problem at all.”
“Anyways, as you’re the only guests tonight you won’t have to share. You’re down the end here.” Laura could see why it was called a Longhouse. When they reached the end of the landing she was shown into the most beautiful room. Doing what most people do in their new room she went to look out of the window. The triple aspect room left her spoiled for choice.
“It’s a lovely room, thank you.” She said, taking in the wood panelling, heavy mahogany furniture, lace curtains and patchwork quilted bedspread.
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