The Landlord's Protégé Pt. 04

Chapter Twenty

Angela had gone on Monday, and Victor's friends left on Tuesday. Victor sat alone in his large house and realised Christmas was less than two weeks away. He did not look forward to it with any confidence. Every year previously, both when he was on leave from the army, and after he retired, he spent the time with his sister, but this year he would be alone.

He idly wondered why this was such a daunting prospect. After all the twenty fifth of December was a date like any other, and a good proportion of the world's population did not celebrate it at all. He came to a theory that it was because most people got together with family or friends, and as a result those without family could feel as if they were outcasts from humanity on that day.

He sighed and decided to find a restaurant or better, a hotel, and stay there over the festive period. At least he would be among other folk. He had hardly made up his mind to do that, when his phone rang.

It was Bridget McLeod.

"Victor," she sang in her Scottish lilt, "James and I were talking about your last visit, and your news about your sister. Would you consider coming to us for Christmas and Hogmanay? There are going to be a few guests who come every year. Better than being on your own, and you've been through a wee bit of trouble from what we've read in the papers."

Victor was delighted. "Thank you Bridget," he said. "You must be psychic! I was just wondering what to do about Christmas, and I had decided to try to find a hotel. But aren't you closed over Christmas normally?"

"Yes, we are in fact closed," she rejoined, "but these are our Christmas and New Year regulars. Anyway you know we keep an open door for our friends -- like yourself."

He remembered times he had been up there in Winter, when it was just him and his hosts. So that was agreed. He asked to arrive a week before Christmas to unwind, and immediately decided to leave the next day, spend a few days in Edinburgh and then cross to the hotel. He wanted to get away from the area where he was; there was nothing now to keep him.

He packed two large cases, his walking boots and skis, phoned George as he usually did, and the next day left for Edinburgh.

If he had expected a white Christmas he would have been disappointed. While it was frosty morning and evening and cold all day, the weather was generally dry. When it was wet the precipitation fell as rain; it was an unusually warm December for Scotland.

The result was that he got a good deal of walking in before the other guests arrived, and had some time with James and Bridget, eating with them and helping them with the kitchen chores. He also had time to read.

The regular visitors were an agreeable lot. Mainly his age and older, and with one exception married or cohabiting couples. Each evening there was interesting conversation as they swapped life-stories, and discussed the issues of the day.

The exception was a single woman of Victor's age. Victor wondered why there was always a single woman when he visited the McLeods? However, this one was markedly different from Angela. She was shy and a little mousy, but Victor turned on the charm and soon she was telling him her life-story, though she had said nothing to the group.

She was divorced. She admitted freely that she was a disappointment to her husband, never having had much of an inclination to the carnal side of married life. She had been a good wife, she told him, but it was always clear that she went along with her husband's lovemaking rather than taking an active part, which, it was obvious to her, was not fulfilling for him. He was a good man, she told Victor, and he 'stuck it out' with her, as she put it, for fifteen years.

Mercifully they had no children as she had no maternal instincts at all. The thing which really turned her on was her university research and her lecturing, and she spent longer and longer on that. Eventually she was offered a much enhanced post, a professorship, in another university and moved. Her husband stayed where he was.

That was really the end of their marriage, she said. She rarely went 'home', and eventually he talked with her and she agreed to a divorce. Now she was happily single and self-sufficient and her husband was now married to a younger woman who returned his affections with interest, and had given him two children, so she was happy for him as well. They remained good friends and she visited him and his wife from time to time.

She asked Victor why he was single and he told her his story -- the army and his avoidance of relationships because he thought it unfair on a woman to be married to an army man, especially when in a conflict situation like Iraq or Afghanistan. Then his unfortunate marriage and divorce, then recently his bereavement.

It was at this point that she asked him if he thought he needed a woman in his life, and was there anyone he thought might fill the bill. He thought for a moment and replied there was no one, though it reminded him of his feelings at being faced with Christmas alone.

"You should join a dating agency," she advised him. "That's what my ex. did and he struck gold!"

More food for thought.

New Year was celebrated as only the Scots can celebrate it. They had a ceilidh, and every one was expected to perform. Victor picked up a guitar and sang some folk songs. Others recited poetry or monologues; it was a good evening which lasted well into New Year's Day.

Victor, along with the other guests, left on Tuesday 2nd January after recovering from the excesses of the celebrations. As he always did, he broke his journey about half way and stayed overnight, this time at a Premier Inn. He arrived back at the house on Wednesday, but had only been back a few hours, when he decided it was time to go back to his flat and get into the swing of a normal life.

Yes, he thought, Madeleine was right. I'll join a dating agency. Even if I find no one permanently, at least I'll meet some female company.

So thinking, he packed his things and drove back into town.

----

Chapter Twenty One

For Susan the second week before Christmas was dreadful. There was a serious leak in the roof of one block, a fight between two tenants resulting in broken glass in the hallway of another and of course there was resulting police interest. Then there was a power failure in yet another. It was Friday morning when she was able to relax in exhaustion.

She had every intention all week of going to see Victor, so on Friday afternoon she took Carl and drove to Victor's house, only to find the house locked up and deserted. She phoned George and he told her Victor had gone to Scotland for the Christmas period. Susan concluded Victor had gone to stay with Angela; she felt a pang of jealousy. She was missing him.

Christmas Day that year fell on a Monday, so on the Friday before, she packed Gail and Carl into the car along with their bags, and drove south to visit her family.

The welcome was as warm as ever, and everyone doted on the children as they did before.

Over the meal the conversation turned to Seth.

"What happened?" asked her aunt. "We saw he'd been arrested. Something to do with you?"

"I told her Seth was bad news," said Katy, "but she doesn't need telling that now. He framed some guy he thought was hitting on Susan."

"Katy, it was Victor Freeman," said Susan, sotto voce.

"I know," whispered Katy, "Aunt Lucy doesn't know about you and him."

"What d'you mean, 'you and him'?" Susan muttered. "There is no 'me and him'."

"You two stop whispering," Aunt Lucy intervened, as if they were young children. Susan's Uncle Harry laughed at their guilty expressions.

They both apologised and the subject was changed. Harry laughed even louder, gaining a 'look' from his wife.

Later that evening, as they were putting the children to bed, Katy brought up the subject again.

"I thought you fancied this Freeman bloke," she said. "What happened?"

"A lot," Susan replied. "I told you all about it -- or don't you read my emails?"

"Oh, yes," Katy said, remembering. "Seth's a real bastard. What's going to happen?"

"I hope he gets life!" Susan growled angrily. "I hope they throw away the key!"

"Me too," agreed Katy. "You know Barbara Birket? He was seeing her just before you came back last time, and when she told him he'd knocked her up, he left. I found out about that later. He went straight back to you, but you'd already kicked him out when Barbara told me. Too late then."

"Katy," Susan said quietly, "I believed what Seth told me and cut Victor off. I didn't even give him a chance to explain or defend himself. I'm pretty sure he wants nothing more to do with me."

"Shame," Katy sympathised. "He seems to be one the good guys." She brightened up. "Hey, there's a party tomorrow night. Lots of folk will be back for Christmas. You going to come?"

"I can't help getting a feeling of deja vu about this," laughed Susan. "At least Seth won't be there to complicate matters this time. Sounds good!"

It was. The whole group began at the same club as before, for dancing and a few drinks, before moving on to the large house of one of the men. Susan was in demand and danced with a steady stream of old friends.

At the house, Susan was getting a drink for Katy and herself when a pair of hands covered her eyes, and a voice she knew so well said "Guess who?"

"Ian!" she squealed, turning and enveloping him in a tight hug. Her ex-boyfriend looked if anything better than when they parted. He had always been quiet and self-effacing and though he was a good lover, she was swept away by Seth's magnetism and that finished them. She still felt guilty about it.

They left the kitchen, drinks in hand, and searched for Katy, eventually finding her with a friend called Alan. The pair were in the room which by tacit agreement of the guests was one quiet enough for conversation and where anything went as far as sex was concerned. Susan found Katy engrossed in a steamy kiss with Alan, and left the drink nearby for her.

She saw Alan's hand was well up Katy's micro-skirt, and by the circular motion beneath, he was actively involved in giving her a good time. Susan smiled with slight embarrassment at Ian and they took the other sofa and sat down.

There was the usual "How've you been?" on both sides and then a long resume of their activities since they parted.

Ian was impressed with her job.

"Wasn't there some problem with Seth?" Ian remarked. "He got himself arrested at last, I hear -- something to do with framing another man? I suppose you know about his earlier activities."

"No," she replied. "He never told me anything about his jobs."

"I've felt guilty ever since about not telling you what he was like."

"I don't think I'd have listened then, Ian. I would have thought it was jealousy," said Susan with a forgiving smile and a hug, which turned into a kiss that went on for a while.

"Why do girls fall so easily for the bad boys?" Ian asked, as they surfaced. "I'll never understand."

"I don't know either," she said pensively, "I just know I couldn't stop myself. He just did something for me and I was lost. I hurt you badly. I'm so sorry."

"Hey," he smiled, "Don't beat yourself up about it. None of us was into totally committed relationships then. I just worried about you -- and yes, you're right, I was jealous!"

"You were right to worry. Life was not so exciting after I got pregnant. He was never around. I was housebound for months."

"You OK now?" Ian asked gazing into her eyes. She wondered why she'd ever thrown over such a good man for Seth, and she leant forward and kissed him again.

It was a combination of the drink; the moans and gasps of Katy and Alan across the room; meeting the man she once loved and made love with; and not having had any loving physical contact for a while, that caused her to abandon all restraint and give herself over completely to the feeling of being kissed, held and then caressed.

His hand stroked her neck, her ears, her cheeks as he kissed her, he combed through her hair with his fingers, tugging gently at each bunch he grasped. Her arms went around his neck, as she opened herself to him, and she was vaguely aware of his other hand touching her knee, then moving slowly and lightly up her thigh.

They broke apart. "Let's find a room," whispered Ian, though he would not have been heard by the writhing couple on the other sofa. Katy was now lying back, her knickers round one ankle and her skirt round her waist, and Alan's bare behind clenching and relaxing as he thrust in and out, lying between her wide-spread legs. They were making a good deal of noise.

Susan nodded, and they quietly left the room and picked their way through the throng in the main living room, and up the stairs. The first two rooms were occupied, but the third was empty, and the guy throwing the party had thoughtfully put a huge bath towel on the bed. It was an invitation.

The mood had changed, at least for Susan. The intensity of the passion had evaporated during the search, but the feeling of affection remained. She had loved this man who had taken her virginity when a younger girl, and she still liked him.

Ian sensed her change of mood, and was gentle as he claimed her lips and kissed her gently. He was so comfortable that she abandoned herself into his arms, reaching up around his neck and pressing against him.

She felt him at the hem of her shirt, and allowed him to lift it off. The same with her skirt, which puddled at her feet. He stood back and gazed at her lingerie-covered body with evident pleasure and lust, before pulling his own shirt off and dropping his slacks. His erection was obvious and triggered a memory in her. She reached behind herself and unclasped her bra, letting it fall away from her breasts and down her arms. He smiled and his eyes were glued to her swelling breasts, larger after the children than he remembered them, though still as firm.

He moved to the bed and his glance toward her was an invitation, which she accepted. They lay down together, side by side, facing each other. They kissed again, and then his fingers began to tease her breasts, circling each mound until she pushed out her chest as a mute entreaty to pay attention to her nipples, and all in silence.

He rolled on top of her, holding himself off her with his arms. Then he knelt up and began to pull off her thong, and caused a twinge of fear in her.

"Ian, darling," she said, "have you condoms? I'm not on the pill."

He sat up on his haunches, looking down on her. "No," he said. "Damn!" Then, "Shall I go and try to find one?"

"No," she said, with a sudden feeling of relief, which she did not understand. "Stay here."

"I could pull out." It was a forlorn suggestion, and he knew what the response would be.

"Come on, Ian," she said with a smile. "You know that's far too dangerous. There are alternatives." She sat up, reached to him and began to pull down his boxers, revealing his hard erection pointing at her face.

"Lie down," she said.

"No," he countered, "you first."

She remembered their previous love-making. Before it was safe and they were able to begin having penetrative sex, he would always bring her off orally, before allowing her to do the same for him manually. He was always a considerate lover, and when he had reached his own climax, though he was indolent he did not fall asleep as many men would, but would always caress her and kiss her in relaxation.

She lay back with her legs wide, and abandoned herself to his ministrations. He trailed fingers over her breasts, over her calves and her knees and over her thighs. He teased her until she begged for his touch on her intimate place.

He knelt beside her shoulders and bending over, began to tongue her hard little nub, flicking over it, and bringing her a much needed and intense release. All the while she stroked his upturned bottom which was nearby, and fondled his penis, and balls beginning to stroke him faster and harder as she approached her climax.

Thus he was more than ready when she pushed him onto his back and took him into her mouth. She worked her tongue along his length on the underside, but keeping her mouth wide, so that while he felt her breath and warmth, only her tongue could be felt, and soon he in his turn was begging for contact. Whereupon she clamped her mouth round him and keeping her teeth clear, sucked on him gently as she worked him.

As he felt his orgasm gathering, he warned her: "I'm close."

She had never liked him coming in her mouth, and would release him and use her hand to bring him to conclusion. This time she merely continued, so he warned her again more urgently, but she ignored him, and he came as hard as he ever remembered, his discomfort at knowing he was spurting into her mouth which accentuated his climactic explosion. She continued sucking and bobbing until he was spent. Then she held him in her hand, stroking him gently, and swallowed his seed, licking and sucking him clean.

They lay together, relaxed and spent, until someone burst in through the door, apologised and withdrew, provoking a giggle from them both, but provoking them into rising and getting dressed.

"Will I see you again this holiday?" he asked as they got themselves another drink.

"Most definitely," she smiled at him, "and next time bring condoms!"

He blushed and assured her that he would.

Christmas Eve and the Day itself was strictly family, everyone meeting at the Uncle and Aunt's house. The children entertained each other, showing off their presents and playing together with only a few disputes.

Susan began to feel she was missing having her wider family nearby, and wondered if she could find a job there. However she rapidly put that thought aside; she was being too successful where she was, and was making some friends at Carl's nursery. However, she felt uncomfortable that Victor would once again be nearby after their fractured relationship.

Boxing day found her in a quiet pub with Ian. They talked easily with each other as if they had never been apart, and Susan felt very close to him. As they were about to leave, he leant towards her and whispered, "I've got the condoms."

She laughed and they left to go to his house. When they arrived, she was amazed and impressed by the size of the house and by its furnishing. It was a house that spoke of a single and successful man. She had expected it to be tidy, but she hadn't expected the style and the ornaments and paintings on the walls.

He was relaxed and in no hurry. He didn't grab her and smother her with passion. They sat and chatted, sitting together on a large sofa. Eventually they kissed, and it was the moment when each expected to kiss.

"Shall we go to bed?" he asked.

She knew her children were being looked after. There was no hurry to get home to her Aunt's.

"Let's," she said.

He led her to the bedroom. She went to the bed and stood there. Ian took his clothes off, and when he pushed off his pants and his boxers he stood naked before her. She was still fully dressed.

"Get into bed," she told him, and he obeyed, sitting against the headboard and watching her.

She did not posture. There was no swagger. She reached behind her and drew down the zip. It was drawn down gently, the dress shrugged off the shoulders and slipped gently to the floor. She stood for a moment to allow him to view her black bra and low rise bikini set, her suspenders and her dark sheer stockings. She unhooked the bra and pulled it off. She slipped the panties down. Then stood tall, wearing only her stockings and suspender belt.

"Like this?" she asked.

"No."

She unhooked the stockings and slipped them off one by one, then undid the suspender belt and was naked. She climbed into the bed and into his arms.