Time To Repair

Somerset England, Wednesday August 6th 2262

17:27:13 hours

The kitchen hadn’t taken Norman as long as he had expected to clear up. Hillary Jane couldn’t abide mess or clutter of any sort so he always made sure their home was spotless for when she came home; which wouldn’t be long now.

Bill and Billy had finished the oak tree’s major pruning thirty minutes ago. They had cleared up remarkably well; there wasn’t a stray twig or leaf to be seen on the lawns anywhere. If it hadn’t been for the disfigured oak in the garden you would never have known they had been.

The dinner was in the suspension unit for whenever Hillary Jane decided she wanted to eat; he could never tell with her. Sometimes she would come home and want to eat within thirty minutes, other times she would want to shower, change and enjoy a glass or two of wine first in the gardens. It was always ready though for whenever she chose.

The weather had been so beautiful all day that he’d decided they would dine alfresco this evening. The rectangular table was positioned just outside the French doors of the dining room. The cream coloured fan-awning was in place above it; the sculptured frills around the border fluttered slightly with the cool air that gently wafted down from its underside.

Norman repositioned one of the crystal wine glasses on its square linen tablemat and then stepped back to check the table’s overall appearance. He had set it with their finest crockery, that and the cream linen looked superb against the glazed top. He had decided against the matching tablecloth today; the subtle green glass was too beautiful to cover up every time they ate at it.

“Perfect,” he said aloud; followed by a smile.

He checked his strap once again, she would be back soon. He had sent Stephen a message earlier to see how the meeting had gone with the Russians. He hadn’t dared to contact her directly, in case the meeting was still ongoing. An hour later Stephen had sent a message back in text format to say the meeting was still in progress but was going very well; a positive outcome was expected.

Norman hadn’t doubted that things would go in her favour; well, perhaps just a little bit. It was a relief to hear that the outcome looked good this time. Hillary Jane would have been unbearable if it had ended with the same result as it did seven months ago. She had blamed herself entirely then. It wasn’t her fault though that the proposed agreement and regulations hadn’t been agreed on; she had only been part of the team that had drawn them up, and they obviously hadn’t been her final decision- she had just chaired the meeting, like she was this time.

Things had never been right with Russia following the war; everyone knew that. She shouldn’t have beaten herself up over it. She had put a lot of work into today and it looked like it was going to pay off. If he was honest he didn’t really understand much; it was all a bit too political for him, but he loved it when she came home on a high and related her day to him. He could sit there for hours sometimes; enthralled by her words.

Norman left the table, satisfied that it was perfect, and headed upstairs to their bedroom. He stripped off and jumped into the ensuite shower for the second time; the day had been so hot and he wanted to be fresh for dinner.

A few minutes later and he was towelling himself down as he padded over to the dressing room. He selected a pair of loose fitting beige cotton trousers and a white short-sleeved summer shirt.

He didn’t bother with underwear, he liked the freedom and he knew Hillary Jane liked to see his manhood shifting around behind the thin trousers. He guessed that she would want to make love at some point this evening; he didn’t always feel like it when she wanted to, her sex drive was far higher than his, but he wouldn’t dream of turning her down. If she was happy and satisfied then he was glad to be of service.

He went back to the bedroom and quickly dressed in front of the long mirror by the ensuite door. He noticed the ugly gash on his arm from this morning - his heart skipped a beat. There didn’t need to be a blatant reminder on show of the morning’s horrific incident. He went back to the dressing room and swapped the shirt for a white long-sleeved one with a pink tartan stripe around each bicep. That was better, he decided as he rechecked his appearance. He went back into the ensuite and sprayed himself with her favourite man-fragrance, Bitterness, then slipped on his leatherette sandals; the baggy bottomed trousers covered all but the toes. He put on his dat-com strap and a gold and ruby coffee-bean neck chain. She had bought him this after the incident with the German waiter; it still made him feel physically sick when he thought of the two of them together; it had taken him months to get over that one. He put it out of his mind as he emphasised his eyes with Guy-Liner.

He stood in front of the mirror for the last time. He unfastened another button on his shirt so that the neck chain could be seen properly and then adjusted his manhood again; it had slipped down the right leg of his trousers, he needed to be a little discreet with it. He turned sideways to check his side profile and then back to the front again; he wasn’t going to look much better than this he thought. As he got to the top of the stairs he heard the port room door open- Hillary Jane was home!

He sprinted down the stairs two at a time to greet her.

They met in the hallway.

“Hi darling!” Norman said enthusiastically. “A little bird tells me that today went well!”

“Evening Norman,” Hillary replied, slipping off her jacket and placing it over the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. “Yes, I think you could definitely say that today has been a complete success.”

“Excellent!” Norman said with delight. He threw his arms around her.

She put hers around him, he smelt great and she could feel the bulge in his trousers against her thigh. Was he wearing underwear? Her desires from this morning came flooding back. She gave him a tighter squeeze, enjoying the feel of him against her, she breathed in his scent. She wanted him.

He squeezed her also, feeling warm and safe in her arms and enjoying her obvious care and affection toward him. She must have missed him today, he thought, she had just squeezed him that bit tighter. He began to get a little choked up, tears started to well-up in his eyes.

“How about a glass of something chilled in the garden?” he asked, trying to compose himself; his voice muffled by her warm neck. “You can tell me all about it; I want every last detail,” he added.

Hillary Jane pulled away; she could wait a little longer to have him. “That would be good.”

“You head down to the old bench by the pond and I will bring us a glass of something fabulous!” Norman said enthusiastically.

Hillary Jane smiled at his fervour as she entered the kitchen and headed for the French doors.

How many times had he crossed the lawns today with a tray he pondered, as he strolled over them once again.

Hillary Jane had taken to the bench by the pond; gazing over at the oak the gardeners had been working on.

“They did a great job, didn’t they?” Norman remarked, placing the silver tray on the table in front of her.

“Hmmm, not bad I suppose,” she replied not taking her eyes off it.

Norman stood beside her. “With your remarkable achievement today I thought it only fitting that we celebrate with this special bottle of bubbly.”

Hillary Jane turned away from the tree and looked down at the bottle on the tray. “Ah, one of the 2012 Olympic bottles from Kent; very fitting, I agree.”

Norman smiled. “I had best pop her open then.”

He stripped off the silver foil and the wire that surrounded the ageing cork. He picked up the bottle and turned toward the distant oak with it. Hillary Jane watched his biceps flex as he pushed on the cork with his thumbs. It suddenly flew out at great velocity with a loud pop. It shot across the garden, disappearing from site as it crossed in front of the sun. It hit the oak and dropped to the ground. They both chuckled.

“A lively one,” Norman said, bending down to sit by Hillary Jane’s side to pour. As he sat the champagne gushed out of the bottle all over the crotch of his trousers.

“Oh no!” he exclaimed.

She smiled. “Don’t worry about it… I know you haven’t wet yourself.”

She chuckled as she used the mishap as an excuse to brush at the wet patch with her hand. He started to get aroused so, before things went too far, he quickly poured the champagne into the two flutes on the tray. He picked them up and held one out to her. “Tell me how it went with the Russians then,” he said, trying to distract them both from the damp patch and the blatant bigger bulge in his trousers. On reflection he should have put on underwear.

Hillary Jane removed her hand from his lap and took her champagne from him. They both took a large sip from their flutes.

“This is a real work of art,” she declared.

“It’s magnificent,” he agreed.

Hillary Jane spent the next hour relaying her day and the meeting to Norman. He sat there barely saying a word. He nodded in all the right places and asked the right questions from time to time. This was perfect he thought as he watched her speak. She liked to give every single detail, and he loved to listen.

He topped up their champagne; emptying the bottle. “So this means that before too long we could be teleporting to Russia and her many surrounding provinces.”

She smiled. “It is probably a bit early to say that but we are definitely a few steps closer to it after today.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Norman grinned. “I’ll drink to that!”

They chinked their flutes and enjoyed their third helping of champagne.

Norman put his arm around her; they gazed down at the pond watching the dozens of tiny midges that circled above it in an endless frenzy.

“When you are ready for dinner, I have prepared a special celebratory feast for you,” Norman announced. “Including some of your favourite dishes,” he added with a smile.

He continued. “To start we have Greek squid in red pepper; followed by Canadian snow goose with cranberry and orange for the main course. With the main I’ve included minted new potatoes, asparagus tips, broccoli, red cabbage and raw jicama sticks; I know you are quite partial to those.”

He went on. “And, if you are still peckish after that, we have apple and mint sorbet from the Eiffel Tower’s World Cuisine Menu and a selection of French cheese including Roquefort and Pélardon.”

Norman sat back with a happy sigh. He looked over at her.

“Oh,” she said.

Norman could tell something was wrong in an instant; what had he done to spoil the moment? He wracked his brain but couldn’t think of a thing.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” he asked clutching her hand.

“Oh nothing Norman, you have gone to a lot of trouble, everything is fine.” She pulled her hand away from his and took a sip of her champagne.

“Please Hills,” he begged. “Tell me what I’ve done.”

“Please, don’t call me Hills; you know I hate that.”

“Sorry darling, please speak to me.”

She turned to face him. “It’s just that I thought we would dine out for a celebratory dinner this evening; Stephen booked us a table on The Eiffel Tower… He had to pull a lot of strings to get us our usual table; you know how busy they are there; you have to book weeks in advance normally.”

She sipped at her champagne again. “It doesn’t matter though, you have prepared something now so we will just have that, Stephen can cancel it.”

She stared straight ahead; avoiding eye contact with him. “I don’t suppose they will fit us in next time now as we’ve messed them about,” she sighed.

Norman felt terrible. Why hadn’t he checked with her about dinner arrangements? He was so stupid at times. He should have known that she would want to eat out.

Norman took hold of her hand again. “Don’t cancel the table, I know you love that restaurant and I really should have checked with you or Stephen on such a monumental day like today.”

Hillary Jane turned to face him again and smiled. “Only if you are sure Norman, it sounds like you have gone to some trouble today with your meal.”

He squeezed her hand. “No darling, not too much; and anyway it’s all in suspension so we can have it tomorrow evening and it will be just as good then.”

“Well, that’s settled then,” Hillary Jane said triumphantly. “The Eiffel Tower Restaurant it is.”

Norman smiled, he was equally delighted and relieved that she was happy again… but also a little disappointed after his hard work with their meal. “It will save me a lot of work tomorrow preparing dinner,” he pointed out, trying to find a positive.

“Isn’t it marvellous when these things work out so well?” Hillary Jane stated. “I’m sure your food will be just as nice as tonight’s banquet is going to be.”

Norman grinned. “Do you know what we forgot to do over an hour ago?”

Hillary Jane’s face took on a look of puzzlement. “No, what was that?”

“Nothing to be worried about,” he said. “In my haste to hear about your success today I rudely forgot to toast your achievement with the Russians; now we have very little champagne left.”

“Well I’m sure I can overlook your oversight just this once,” she joked. “It’s not too late yet,” she added swilling the remaining champagne around in the bottom of her glass.

“Okay then,” Norman turned to face her and held up his glass to hers. “Here’s to your remarkable achievement today with the Russians, it may have taken longer than you hoped it would; but never once did I doubt that your success would come; a success that will no doubt help to shape the next few years,” he paused to catch his breath. “Hillary Jane and the Russians.”

They chinked glasses and both drained the remaining champagne from them.

Hillary Jane beamed. “You do say the sweetest things Norman.”

She put her empty glass back on the tray and leant forward to kiss him on the lips. He closed his eyes as he felt her champagne moist lips on his. He opened his mouth to return the kiss, she darted her tongue into his mouth where it found his. They kissed passionately for a minute or two; she put her right hand on the back of his head among his fine floppy hair and held him close. He stretched sideways a little trying to reach the silver tray with his glass, but not break away from the kiss; he managed it on his third awkward fumble. She manoeuvred her left hand back to its earlier position over the damp patch on his trousers; his excitement was more than evident as she rubbed her slender fingers firmly over the area.

She pulled her mouth fractionally away from his and whispered. “I think we should get you out of these wet trousers… right here and now.”

Norman opened his eyes; staring into hers. “What? In the garden?” he whimpered.

“I can’t think of anywhere better right now,” she whispered hungrily back.

She moved her hand up to the waist band and started undoing his fly’s buttons slowly from the top down. She slipped her hand into the opening and pulled out her prize. He lifted his buttocks from the bench and she pulled his trousers down to his knees, revealing the only things that were important to her right now.

They kissed again for a few minutes more, her left hand doing wonders, their tongues in constant battle. She pulled away and dropped to the floor suddenly; grabbing the baggy bottoms of his trousers. He straightened his legs out in front of him and kicked off his sandals as she pulled his trousers off completely. She took hold of his immense erection and gently pulled him toward her as she started to stand up. Norman obliged and stood up with her.

“Now, let’s go to the bedroom,” she panted. She had him in one hand and his trousers in the other.

“I… I’m naked from the waist down,” he protested.

“I couldn’t fail to notice that,” she grinned, giving his manhood a tighter squeeze. “I want to see you walk back to the house; just as you are.

“Hill…”

“Go!” she cried releasing her grip and slapping his smooth bare buttocks hard. She dropped his trousers on the bench and stood in his way so that he couldn’t get at them.

He sighed and started to walk towards the house. After a few seconds his nerves got the better of him and he made a run for it.

Hillary Jane laughed loudly as she watched his loose white shirt-tails flapping up and down covering and uncovering his buttocks as he sped across the grass in the sun.

A minute later Norman had disappeared through the gate into the courtyard.

She glanced down at his trousers and sandals, and then at the tray with its crystal flutes and empty champagne bottle. Norman could clear it up tomorrow she thought; she had more important things to see to right now.

Hillary Jane slowly strolled back to the house thinking about all the things she was going to do to Norman when she got up to the bedroom.