Our plane lands at Heathrow Friday morning. George has instructed me where to meet him outside the terminal. The car rolls up and we pile in.
"Hi lover." He murmurs, leaning over and playfully tickling the skin beneath my earlobe with his warm tongue. I close my eyes and breathe in his woodsy scent, a chill spreading across my body. He slips his hand over mine and interlaces our fingers as he chats to the girls in the backseat.
"Dhani can't wait to meet everyone." He lifts my hand, "especially you." He grins and kisses my fingertips.
After a gorgeous drive through the English countryside, we arrive at Friar Park. The girls' faces are plastered against the car windows as we approach the house. Dhani greets us in the foyer as we make our way through the grand front door, lugging our bags.
"Dhani, this is Samantha." George introduces me. He shakes my hand tentatively. He is practically a carbon copy of his father at that age, skinny with a huge moptop of dark hair and brooding eyes.
"Hello Dhani. It is great to finally meet you."
"Hi Samantha. It is good to meet you as well." He answers quietly, releasing my hand.
I turn to the girls introduce them. He smiles sheepishly, nodding and saying 'hi' as his eyes lingering on Jane.
I show everyone to their rooms. We reconvene at the top of the stairs after we have freshen up. The house should come with its own map for guests. I conduct a quick walk through finishing in the kitchen. An petite older woman offers us hot drinks, sandwiches, and fresh fruit. George bounds into kitchen and enthusiastically offers a tour of the grounds while he inhales half a cheese sandwich, taking the other half with him.
We head out into the abundant spring sunshine. Harry concludes weeding an unruly patch of daffodils to join our procession, helping to narrate as Dhani points out favorite plants and recounts how George loves to leap out from behind the boxwood hedges to frighten him. Fantastic colors and fragrances flood the senses. We roam through the maze pretending to get lost, all of us hollering and laughing boisterously, temporarily drowning out the glorious birdsong.
As we progress toward to the lake, Elizabeth excitedly asks if we can see the grotto.
"Yes, certainly." Harry replies and we clamor into the boats. George reaches under the seat and holds up a few tapers and lighter. During the quick trip across the lake, he lights the candles, passing them around as we enter a dark tunnel. We emerge into a subterranean wonder. The air is dank. George hops out and we follow him carefully as he pauses to light incense and stationary candles. The darkness gives way to an eerie glow reflecting off the jagged walls. George ambles to a small area of smooth rocks and sits, inviting us to do the same. A peaceful silence descends as we take in our surroundings, a few statues seemingly judging us.
"Something just crawled on my ankle!!!" Iris shrieks without warning and leaps to her feet and violently shaking her leg as if the reptile is still attached to her.
"It's just a salamander." Dhani bursts into uncontrollable laughter.
" I hate those little buggers too!" Harry commiserates with Iris in an effort to quell her embarrassment and suggests we head back to the daylight.
The weekend is one nonstop party for those so inclined. The girls waste no time drinking and getting to know the other house guests, one by one disappearing from massive lounge. George and I settle comfortably on a settee observing the mating rituals playing out in front of us. He idly strums his guitar, quietly singing so I have to lean close to hear him.
"Oof, Jane, don't do it. He's the worst of the lot." He gasps, playing the a few chords from 'The Empire Strikes Back' for dramatic effect and cracking himself up.
Iris wanders up asks if she can make phone call. I roll my eyes.
"Need to call the snake to tell him about the salamander?" George gives me a sideways smirk and offers, "the phone is in the kitchen." She rolls her eyes but none the less scampers off.
"Let me going make sure Dhani is sleeping. Won't be minute." George kisses my nose and stands up.
He returns shortly with a light jacket and gestures for me to follow him. I holds the coat open for me to slide my arms into it, "Come on petal, let's take some air." pulling collar up around my neck and pulling hair out from under the material.
We sneak away to enjoy wandering around the moonlit park. He directs my attention to the night blooming flowers and the Moonglow Juniper trees that shimmer in the mild spring breeze.
"I planted those flowers for me mum" slipping into his Scouse accent, "she had them growing when I was a kid." He remarks wistfully, taking a deep inhale of the sweet fragrance. He is lost in his thoughts for a moment.
I slip my arms around his waist and hug him tight, trying to comfort him. He holds me against him.
"She would love you." He murmurs sweetly in my ear. After a few minutes we resume our stroll, arms around each other.
"It is a masterpiece, your garden."
"You might feel differently after weeding all day tomorrow." George snorts at me but continues, "I can't wait for you to see it in full bloom mid-July. It is not to be believed." The pride in his voice evident.
By the time we return to the lounge it is quiet. A few people are strewn around the room, on couches, snoring. George locks up and empties a few overflowing ashtrays.
"Forget this" he sighs, I'll deal with this in the morning." He holds his hand out to me. I place my hand in his warm rough palm and he leads me upstairs.
"George, the bed feels different." I am perched on the edge, rubbing some juniper scented hand cream along my forearms. He emerges from the bathroom only clad in his purple boxers.
"Lovely color." I grin, unconsciously licking my lips.
"Say genius, you're just noticing?" He gives me a toothy smile.
"Well, last night I was too busy being pounded into it to notice a change." I give him look of horror. He walks over and jumps on the bed, bouncing a bit, laughing like a child, falling back.
"C'mere." The Scouse is back and I follow his lead falling back and stretching out. He rolls next to me, propping himself on his elbow "I bought us a new bed. Frame, mattress, pillows, linens, the works. Saged the room too." He beams, clearly proud of himself.
"It is really dreamy. Do you always do that when you take a new lover?" I half tease, trepidation in my voice.
"Nope, only new wives get new beds." There is a brief awkward silence as we flick our eyes away from each other.
"Well, I wanted," he stammers, "to be prepared for that eventuality." He cheeks are red with embarrassment and he ends it by cupping my face and kissing me with reckless abandon.
I am wide awake in the middle of the night. I know she is not asleep although I am wrapped around her from behind. Her breathing is too shallow. Why did I say that? Do I want to scare her off? Wait until Ravi hears about this.
"Sami."
"Georgie." She replies quietly as she subtly pushes her bare bum back against my stirring dick. I gently brush the outside of her top thigh to her knee and slip my hand between her legs. She squeezes my hand, wiggles and releases the pressure. I slowly work my fingers towards her heat, reveling in the feel of her firm muscles and soft skin on both sides of my hand, nipping the back of her exposed shoulder. I ghost my middle and index fingers along her moist folds.
"Petal, you're soaked." I whisper in her ear. When my fingers finally make contact with her engorged clit she moans and squirms, biting my arm. My thumb settles into pleasing circular rhythm as I gently push two fingers into her warm, tight cunt.
"Be still, girl." I urge and stroke her in the opposite rhythm to my thumb. Panting, she clenches as I add a third finger, chanting my name, surrendering suddenly and hard, drenching my hand and her legs. I withdrawal my fingers but leave my hand nestled against her wet warmth.
"Sweet dreams now Sami. I love you."
"I love you, Georgie." She murmurs, her voice heavy with sleep.
Satisfied I haven't terrified her with my earlier comment, I kiss her neck and bury my face in her hair, inhaling her scent, drifting off the best sleep I have had since March.
Monday afternoon George hands me a pile of credentials and heads to London for the final sound check.
We take the train into London. It is another stunningly warm day so we decide to walk through Hyde Park via Kensington Palace to arrive at the Albert memorial and directly across the road, Royal Albert Hall. It is a tremendously impressive building.
"Wow. Queen Victoria really loved that guy, eh?" Iris remarks as we marvel at the ornate statue as the gold glints in the brilliant sunshine.
Crossing the street, we travel around the entire perimeter of the hall. Iris gives the architectural overview of the structure before we show our passing at the stage door.
George's dressing room is a sea of people frantically scrambling in all directions. In the midst of all this commotion, he sits peacefully as a pretty bottle blonde with a too low cut, too tight, hot pink top stands in front of him styling his hair. She giggles at something he says as she steps to the side. I watch him in the mirror as he flicks his eyes to her ass. Elizabeth pinches my arm causing me to yelp, turning some heads dismissively in our direction. Unexpectedly Dhani appears on George's other side chattering away until he too notices the girl's assets.
"Dhani." George hisses and the boy's eyes snap from the woman's tits to his father's face.
"I can do you next if you like, Dhani." She purrs, "Your hair is wonderfully thick like your father's." She brushes the hair off his forehead with her long hot pink nails as the color drains from his face.
"Okay, please." He stammers and grins at George.
"That's my cue. Thanks Helena, it looks fantastic." He stands up from the chair so Dhani can take his place, kissing him on the top of his head.
"George." Jane bellows. He turns and makes his way through the throng towards us.
"You made it!" A relived expression flashes across his face. He kisses everyone's cheeks and then bends and plants his lips firmly on my mouth. I nip his bottom lip and tousle his coiffure ever so slightly whispering, "Your hair is wonderfully thick" winking up at him.
The door swings open and Derek announces it is 45 minutes until showtime and that everyone has 15 minutes to finish their tasks and leave the dressing room. George prefers some time collect himself and warm up alone. The next time Derek appears, the crowd has thinned out and the last few folks gather their things and file out under his watchful eye. I turn to head to our seats with the girls when a feel the belt loops of my jeans being tugged from behind lifting my heels out of shoes.
"You're not going anywhere." George's long fingers sweep my hair off my neck as his warm lips brush my skin sending jolt of heat to my core.
"Have a great show." Derek's knowing voice trails behind him as the door swings closed.
George pulls me backwards until we tumble onto the vibrant red sofa. I land across his lap.