Markets plunge again; shares rise on bailout hope; uncertainty continues; bigger recession than the great depression of the twenties; indices slowly claw their way back; market resilient despite lockdown.
‘At least there’s some hope on the horizon’ was the general view as the crash slowed and stock values slowly clawed their way back up again.
Eyes were glued to the monitors supplying us with news feeds as much to the ones running market software.
‘Get back! You’re less than 6 feet away!’ cried Ms Neurotic who ran the US desk.
‘I was just trying to pass you a cup of coffee’ explained Tracy the assistant then shoved her arse in Neurotic’s face.
Boris came on the television and assured us that we, the brave people of London, were protected and supported by the government, the police, the NHS and the stars above etc etc….. General laughter rippled round the room, a welcome relief in these uncertain times.
Almost time for the markets to close, no clear up afterward at the moment, so little business taking place we could do the paperwork as we went.
Screens changed, including the market ones: ‘Newsflash, Breaking News….’ they all said the same thing. At last, something different. Perhaps the aliens have landed to prove this virus was extraterrestrial after all.
‘Crown Jewels raided, Cullinan Diamond stolen, anonymous thieves use lockdown as cover to hack Palace computer systems and pull off the greatest robbery ever.’
Well fuck me, someone actually did it. Queenie will be upset. ‘Can you believe it Laura, some cheeky cow’s nicked the royal treasure’ said Holly, my best friend at work.
‘Yeah, sure looks that way. At least someone’s showing initiative at the moment.’ This produced major giggles and we were glad we now had something to gossip about.
‘You alright to finish the Westminster account Holly?’ I asked her.
‘Sure babes, I’ll complete it next week’ she replied.
I kissed her, disregarding the social distancing rules: ‘See you Monday then sweetie, have a nice one.’
I liked to walk home after work even though the tube was still running. City district in London is amazing when deserted, like a ghost town. It is anyway on Sundays but this was Friday and the lockdown had changed so many things so quickly.
After the oppressive stress and tension of the trading rooms, the fresh air and mile walk to my apartment let my body relax and loosen up. I had found a gymnasium halfway and made good friends with the people at similarly convenient salons, saunas and everything I needed for survival in the urban jungle that comprised a broker’s life in and around the City District.
Stop off at the delicatessen for wine and munchies over the weekend then a nice hot bath to wash the stress away. ‘Hi Maria’ I said to the lady who ran the deli. I just love Italian food and the girls who ran The Delizioso were just such absolute darlings.
‘Laura my dear girl, come here and give Maria a hug to cheer me up in these crazy days.’ Any excuse to enfold me in her ample bosom and I had no complaints. In fact several of my fantasies involved….but that’s another story.
‘Not sticking to the two metre rule then Maria?’ I asked.
She gave me that look that only Italian mommas can give: ‘Più grande carico di cazzate.’
My Italian wasn’t great but something about bullshit I think. ‘Quite agree’ I replied with a feigned pout.
‘What can I do for my lovely Laura today?’ Maria asked.
So I went for the whole works and we chatted while she loaded up two bags of goodies for me. ‘So have you found yourself a nice girl yet Laura?’ Always interested in my sex life, a welcome distraction from that useless husband of hers.
I laughed: ‘Still looking Maria, you know what happened with the last one!’
We kissed our goodbyes and I left the shop only to bump into someone trying to come in. ‘So sorry, I beg your pardon. Mind elsewhere….Sharon?’ My ex from college. Another long story, combination of good and bad but this was the last place I expected to see her. Well it always is when you bump into your ex.
‘Laura!’ she cried. ‘Oh my goodness, it’s wonderful see you.’
Still in shock and caught off my guard I responded with the appropriate reply: ‘Wonderful to see you too dear. What are you doing here in London?’
Required hugs and kisses over: ‘Taking the opportunity during the quiet period to overhaul software and general systems capability for clients.’ Sharon trained in I.T.. She had made a success of her computer business, despite spending her university days drinking too much, getting high too often and cheating on me. Oh what the hell, forgive and forget.
‘So where are you staying at the moment?’ I enquired as we walked along.
‘Just arrived in this area, can you recommend a good hotel, if any are still open?’ Sharon looked around, bewildered as I had been with the deserted cityscape.
I snorted: ‘You won’t find many at this bursa escort bayan time. But you can stay with me, I always keep a spare room ready just in case.’
A very large hug: ‘Oh you are a sweetie Laura, thanks.’
Glad I bought as much food as I could carry, looks like I was going to need it. So finally in my apartment and visits to the loo completed. The requisite bottle of wine was opened and we caught up on old times while we prepared dinner. I thought a buffet spread would be easier and washed down with a couple of bottles of Barolo would be a good icebreaker for my old friend and myself.
Okay, the descriptions. Myself, Laura Tomlinson. A redhead standing around 5’6″ with curvy build and big boobs. Middle class gal working in the city and specialising in long term investment trends and statistical market analysis….oh that doesn’t matter. Sharon Brown, slightly taller than me, a brunette with similar build. And from the ‘other side of the tracks’ which gave her that slightly anarchistic streak which worked both for and against her at various times.
We met at university and were lovers for two years, breaking up for reasons I’ve already explained. Similar thoughts were probably going through her head as we relaxed after the plates were all empty and the second bottle of wine was open. Silence. Everything said that needed to be said. Pause….not for effect….for whatever happens next.
Sharon spoke first: ‘Do you remember when we were together?’
Uh oh, what’s coming up now? I immediately became defensive.
‘You have that same look on you as you did then, just before we used to tumble into bed’ Sharon explained with a smile, a crocodile smile.
At least she’s still the one who can take the lead. ‘What do you say girl, a cuddle for old time’s sake?’ Straight out with it, that’s Sharon. But at least it was on the table and I hadn’t gotten laid in quite a few months.
There was no point in playing games, we either were or we weren’t going to, so I considered for about half a second: ‘I bought a new strapon recently’ I responded, accepting her suggestion.
Sharon’s grin said it all and I knew I might not get much sleep tonight. She was the dominant one, taking the lead and knowing I enjoyed it when I submitted to her, although she always respected my boundaries in bed.
I lay on the bed, arms above my head in the submissive pose, ready to be taken. Sharon stopped and looked me over, lasciviously and deliberately, eating me with her eyes, undressing me before undressing me. She still looked good as I hoped I did, fit and strong. I could see her physique under the chinos and tee, she once explained her clothes needed to be loose for crawling under desks to connect leads and fiddle with switches and stuff. She used to do some kind of martial arts thing, looks like she still did.
Jacket slowly removed, like she was doing a strip without music, she always was a tease. Chinos unbuttoned, she slid them down her legs and dropped them on the floor. Tee pulled over head I saw her lovely firm boobs, firmer than mine, under the sports bra. She smiled as she saw me assessing her, admiring her body, tension starting to build.
My hands moved up to my chest, I stroked my nipples with the backs of my fingers. Sharon saw my nipples get hard, poking through my bra and my work blouse. Her bra came off and I breathed in deeply as her boobs stood up by themselves, my goodness she had kept herself fit. Panties slowly pulled down, she was smooth like me. We had both stayed fit and kept ourselves in trim, unusual for two working girls of thirty something.
Walking up to me, eyes fixed on mine, she removed my shoes, undid my skirt and pulled it off with one movement. I removed my blouse and bra and she took down my panties with her teeth. One kiss on my pussy and I mewled, just once. Then we were all over each other, kissing, touching, stroking, playing just like we were eighteen again.
As we became intimate once more I remembered with fondness the good side of our relationship, and her kiss and the feel of her touch sent me to those places where many of my private thoughts and fantasies lived.
‘You’re soaking wet Laura’ she whispered in my ear.
‘As are you my sexy rebel’ I retorted using the title she liked so much. I turned her over and began the routine she responded to. Keeping a bottle of ready mixed massage oil in my drawer I took it out and applied it while slowly stroking Sharon’s back. Working my way from her neck down her back and then her bottom and legs, I turned her over once more and worked my way back up, always missing her pussy and boobs.
The boobs came next, then the nipples and once she began moaning I knew I had her. My tongue took over, kissing between her legs, her thighs, slowly working inward and building up to the first flick of my tongue on her labia. Making love to her lips, I felt them swell, then moved my tongue inside. Sharon’s moaning became higher in pitch. I görükle escort found her clit and flicked it from side to side with my tongue then sucked it in my mouth. Keeping it there I flicked it quicker and quicker until her moans became a long scream and she squeezed my head between her thighs as she came.
Thing about Sharon, climaxing didn’t dwindle her libido. A climax just stimulated her to want more: ‘Where’s your strapon’ she demanded.
I crawled to my wardrobe showing plenty of ass as I went, accentuating my wiggle. Dragged out my secret box of toys, scattering them over the floor and found the strapon. Holding it in my mouth I crawled back to her and presented it like a dog retrieving a bone.
She strapped it on in seconds and it was in front of my face: ‘Lick it’ she ordered. Fuck me, I loved it when she bossed me like that. Kissing the tip I ran my tongue up and down the length of the long black dildo, keeping eye contact, teasing her with my smile, licking and flicking my tongue….
….her patience was gone and she grabbed me by the hair, threw me on the bed and entered me from behind. No preliminaries, she went straight for my G-spot, she hadn’t forgotten. This was my fav position for a fucking, face down, helpless and with a dildo pushing against my G. It’s different from a clitoral or vaginal orgasm, just a long slow climax that never stops until I am exhausted and go limp under Sharon’s weight and thrusting. She had me where she wanted me, seduced, taken and fucked into submission. Shit how I missed this part of our relationship.
Morning dawned but we both slept on. Late morning was more like when we surfaced to start a weekend of what I assumed would be romance and sex to relive old times. Sharon dressed quickly and I asked: ‘Going somewhere honey?’
She looked serious: ‘Laura, there’s something I want you to do for me, something I want you to look after.’ Money, store some stuff for her?
‘I’ve put my programming skills to good use but I also have another….sideline you might say.’ She reached into her bag and placed a folded cloth on the table. I opened it and saw the biggest diamond….well I know it sounds corny but….you ever saw.
Finally I caught on: ‘It was you, the crown jewels, you were the one who lifted them!’ She smiled at my slowness. ‘And our bumping into each other yesterday, that wasn’t by chance, you planned all this.’
She simply repeated her resigned smile, leant back in her chair: ‘Guilty. But I need you to look after this for me, the city will be crawling with police, lockdown or not.’ Then she grabbed her bag and coat and was out the door before I could move. She always was quicker than me in every sense.
Ran after her and was about to shout her to come back when I realised I was standing in the corridor of my apartment block completely naked and holding the world’s largest diamond. I wouldn’t have caught her anyways.
Coffee going cold in the mug, lost and afraid and staring at this big fucking rock in front of me. Cullinan I think they call it. Emotionally empty apartment devoid of the promise of so much this weekend. Montage held for eternity while I process panic building up inside me. Snap out of transfixed state, what the fuck do I do? Can’t report her to the police, she’d kill me anyway. So do I have no choice but to protect this rock? That fucking bitch, she always used me.
Weekend passes like I’m waiting for the end of the world. No idea what to do. Should I hide it here or take it with me? If the latter how do I carry around the biggest diamond in the world? Retire to bed with another bottle I keep in the cupboard for emergencies, for which this qualifies tenfold. Stare at the wall, then out the window, then the bedroom which still is a mess from last night’s activities. Underwear strewn everywhere, the strapon needs cleaning (yuk) and an anal plug with a crystal in it (a present from a previous girlfriend) sparkles in the stream of sunlight flooding through the window…. We never got round to using that.
They’re going to find me, I’m going to prison, it wasn’t me but no one will ever believe me….endless thoughts of destitution and ruin….
Bottle empty, pissed but still frighteningly aware of reality. I can’t get rid of it, she’ll kill me. As will whoever she was working with. I have to hide it, but where? Weekend spent searching every possible hiding place, but no where is safe. Can’t even hide it under the floorboards cos they’re concrete floors. Despair, depression, exhaustion….return to bedroom and about to hit the gin and tonic when I see the sparkle on the floor….
Oh no, that’s silly. But it is the same size. It’s one of those metal butt plugs with a crystal in the end, purely for decorative purposes. And it’s large enough, thank goodness I have a big arse. Screwdriver out of cupboard, prise out pink crystal, large blob of blutack inside and (very gently) press the diamond in it’s place. Fuck me, it works. bursa escort bayan Looks just like the real thing, or the fake thing if you know what I mean. Too shiny though, smear it with dust from behind the wardrobe mixed with lube to make it look authentic.
Monday morning, must follow same routine. Whatever I feel inside, need to look calm and even bored on the outside. Sharon was right, London crawling with police. This is silly, I feel like some character out of a movie: Laura Tomlinson, jewel thief, from Ocean’s 69 or some such thing. Nerves seem to heighten my mind, make some really good deals today, almost precognitively predicting market movements. No one suspects anything, or if they do they’re not saying. How could they know? Markets close and its time for the second foray into the danger zone.
All clear and almost home until the last corner before my street. Cop on patrol and searching everyone. Can’t run, have to act normal. She stops me, and wow is she hot. One of those hardbody types, extremely fit and whom I imagine taking me….not now girl, focus. ‘Good morning ma’am’ cop said in a courteous but friendly voice.
Oh my, she’s polite as well. ‘You probably heard about the robbery last week. I need to inspect your bag, just routine you understand.’
Here goes, moment of truth. I smile as I hand over my handbag. Rummage, rummage till she gets to the drawstring velvet bag into which I placed the plug and a dildo for effect. She pauses and looks suspicious, slowly opening the top and taking out the….dildo. Then the plug. If only she knew what she was holding. The metal plug gleamed dully as she turned it over, grubby crystal looking worse for wear. ‘When had it last been used, oh the stories it could tell.’ Knowing what she was thinking increased my excitement from the scared to the sexual. I put on my best embarrassed expression and she fell for it, placing the velvet bag back into my handbag. One last rummage and she came across the gay charm I always kept with me and I saw a momentary flicker of a smile cross her face. Only a trace but it was enough.
She handed back the bag with a slight lingering touch on my hand. Small, but again it was enough and contact was made. My gaydar was off the charts. ‘And may I see some form of identification please ma’am.’ So I produced my driving licence. Oh I knew what she was after, my address. Oh wow, this could be something, could lead to something and she was just my type. If only I wasn’t carrying the result of the heist of the century. ‘Thank you ma’am, I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.’ Promises, promises….and I smiled a coy smile and glanced back at her as I walked home seeing she was doing the same.
Next day at work I received a message from Sharon: ‘Looking forward to my birthday present’ and we arranged a time and place. The cafe was practically empty and anyone would see two women having a conversation over lunch.
I had placed the plug in a box and wrapped it in colorful paper: ‘Nice touch, hide in plain sight’ commented Sharon.
She was about to continue when she heard my wall, immovable and irresistible, from experience she knew not to argue with it. ‘I don’t want to see you or it again. Now get it back to where it came from.’
I called the waitress for the cheque: ‘We intended to return it anyways, it was only a prank’ Sharon protested.
‘I don’t care Sharon, just get rid of it’ I cut her short and with that I walked out.
Relieved it was all over I returned to work and hopefully to at least some semblance of normality in these very bizare times. I assumed that was the end of everything and for a few days it was. The question of deniablity was always a problem and there wasn’t much I could do regarding the diamond. But it was no longer in my possession and I had done all I could to enable it to be returned to where it came from.
The little note on my doormat one evening was the relief I had been waiting for: Just the name of a club, which I knew to be a lesbian bar, and a date and time and the name: Ashley Raynes. This was the name of the police woman who had stopped me and searched my bag. So she had followed up on her instincts, good girl. Things were beginning to look up again as was the weekend especially, certainly more than the boring and confining past few weeks.
What to wear, come Saturday? Ashley was obviously dominant and so I had to be the opposite for her, this both by experience and inclination. Available, submissive, pretty but also slightly suggestive, just hinting but not giving too much away immediately. She would have to work for me and she knew it.
So, fairly long blue and white patterned dress and white top with lace edging. Matching white cardigan, pretty but not ornate necklace and plain white shoes. Hair hanging down from a tie at the back. Makeup simple, just enough to look appealing while still innocent. Hah! I thought to myself. No watch, the time is hers. Underwear, hopefully we would get to that stage, a simple matching pink bra and panties set with white lace trim.
Called a cab, best not to have a car to worry about when the outcome of the evening wasn’t certain yet and arrived at the club five minutes before the time she mentioned.