Terry and the Peachers
XVI
By Michael Arram
Terry had an intimate dinner with Matt, who noticed the surly and resentful look on the face of the young waiter who served them.
'Oh Terry, you didn't...'
Terry blushed again. Matt seemed to have a capacity to make him do that. Still, it solved the Will problem. The boy cut him dead as they left the restaurant for the bar.
'What now then Matt, me mate?'
'Off to Milan next weekend for the photo shoot for Romanelli, and then back via Paris.'
'Just an ordinary British postgrad...'
'You have a wicked tongue when you want, Terry O'Brien.'
'Which I'll be quite happy to put in your mouth or anywhere else you fancy, the wickeder the better,' came out of him almost automatically.
'Never miss a trick, do you. No Terry, you're quite a guy, but not my type.'
'D'you think you'll go back to Andy, then?'
'Let's see what a difference a couple of months make. I'm not looking for any sexual adventures in the meantime. I've only ever slept with Andy. I can't imagine doing it with anyone else, and I don't have any desire to do it either.'
Terry headed out into the night to take up his observation post in the Holiday Inn. He sidled cautiously into the bar, which was quite full, so full that he didn't notice Laurie's two friends at a table until he had taken a seat on the other side of some boxed plants from them. Fortunately they hadn't noticed him either. He turned his chair to look in the other direction to keep his observation discrete, he flipped his mobile and checked his calls. Wow, one from his boss. He rather guessed it would be Matt related.
'Hello, er... Terry. This is Andy. Just asking you to check in when you can. I suppose no news is good news, but just... y'know, check in.'
The misery in the voice was surely not Terry's imagination. Terry felt really sorry for his boss, whom he liked a lot, even loved. He would ring as soon as Anson's two heavies moved. He pretended to check his texts while he listened keenly. He caught something of the gist of what they were saying. “Johnny” was unhappy, ass-kicking unhappy. Somebody was going to be busted. They were keeping their distance from Laurie, whose ass was the one that was likely to be busted and he could kiss his share goodbye. Tomorrow was going to be the big day. No sign of the target, but he had to be back soon. Laurie was watching the house. That was all that they had to say that was relevant. They started talking about Chelsea's latest disaster and Man Utd's latest signing. Terry sidled away as one of them moved to get a new pint.
In his room, he rang Andy's personal number.
'Hi, who's that?' came the eager voice. Oh God. Poor bastard, Terry thought.
'S me, Terry, Mr Peacher.'
'Oh... oh hi, Terry. Thanks for ringing back.' The voice was damp with disappointment.
'You wanted a report, boss?'
'Yeah, thanks.'
'Paul's safe in London till the end of the week. We sneaked him off by causing a diversion. Team Anson was watching him, but Anson himself is away till tomorrow. There's a team of three heavies staying here at the Holiday Inn and we have them under observation. Anson's old mate Laurie is in charge, but not for long after losing Paul, I think. They don't have any idea that we know about their operation.'
'Blimey, Terry, how did you find all this out?'
'Bit of luck, some skill, and Jenna. And er... how're things at the château, boss?'
Silence for a while. 'Quiet, Terry. The Stepmom's still here, but will be taking the kids back to Santa Barbara at the weekend. My dad's staying on for a few days. He's promised me a briefing after she's gone. And... oh... nothing. Let me know how things pan out when Paulie gets back.' He paused before ringing off, and then asked pathetically, 'Have you seen Matt?'
'He's still at the Radisson, boss. I had dinner with him. He's leaving for Milan on Friday.'
'Did he mention... me?'
'He said that you've split up for the time being... I'm really sorry Andy, honest I am.'
There was more silence, then eventually a husky, 'Thanks Terry, appreciate it. Ring me tomorrow.'
Terry put down the phone, and laid on the bed, fully dressed, thinking about relationships and their mortality till he dozed off. He awoke past midnight, stripped and put the lights out. He had an uneasy dream in which Ramon knifed Will the Waiter, and then turned his weapon on Terry, who was pleading for his life.
When he awoke, Terry's mind was made up as to what to do next. It was late for him, he always tended to be an early riser. He lay a while, and rang Jenna's mobile number. She eventually answered.
'I'm on the M4 hard shoulder on my way back.'
'Can you come to the Holiday Inn?'
'Sure. What's up?'
'I think it's time to get aggressive with Team Anson.' Terry updated her with what he had learned of their movements. Before ringing off he asked, 'Can you open locked doors?'
'I can... if necessary.'
He rang off, and then made another call. It was quite a long call, and involved a lot of explanation and cautions.
Having finished, he lay awhile in bed, his mind floating free. So Matt and Andy had drifted apart. He felt as he imagined a kid would feel if his parents had separated. The two of them had seemed so strong. It just proved how little you really knew. It made him insecure. He had no great inclination towards monogamy, but he had always felt that one day he might find his prince, the perfect partner he could settle down with. After all, exciting, dangerous and erotically gratifying though the life of the young bachelor gay was, one day he would be in his thirties and no longer lithe, slim and unwrinkled, however well he looked after himself. And then there was Ramon, his mind filled with those adoring, liquid eyes, that gorgeous olive body and perfect cock. His own sprang erect, straining so hard he had to do something about it.
Afterwards, on a whim, he rang reception. 'Oh hullo. My name's Hartash, I'm in 166. Can you tell me what time Mr Whittaker will be checking in?'
'A moment, sir... we're expecting him at 2.00pm.' Terry punched the air. Bingo!
'Another thing. I'm looking for a bigger room. Is 542 or 546 available? I've had those when I stayed here before' He knew that Laurie was in 544.
'I can offer you 546, sir.'
'Fine. I'll transfer there at midday then.'
'No problem, although it's rather more expensive than your present room.'
'That's OK... many thanks. I'll pick up the room key at twelve.'
Terry laughed. So Anson was still using his preferred alias of Johnny Whittaker. And the bastard had lectured him about being professional.
At twelve Terry collected the key card to 546 and met Jenna in the lobby. They kissed affectionately. Terry put some heart into it. Kissing girls was interestingly different, and it wasn't just the lipstick. Terry had kissed boys who wore lipstick and not just Anthony the Acid. Even more interestingly, after the kiss, he felt a stirring between his legs... now was that because of Jenna or memories of Anthony's lithe and ambiguous body?
As he had hoped, 546 had a locked connecting door with 544. Jenna reckoned 544 was empty and had the door open effortlessly within minutes. The room was the same as theirs, large double bed with sizable bathroom, all clean and tidy. Having checked it out, they left a little package wrapped in plastic concealed in the toilet cistern and departed, while Terry explained his plan to Jenna. She looked deeply impressed and then spent a good ten minutes giggling. She set off down to the lobby, to wait for Anson's arrival.
He arrived just after half three and Jenna phoned up to Terry in 546 that the show was about to begin. The rest of Team Anson arrived soon and joined their boss in Laurie's room, and Terry and Jenna sat entranced by the connecting door, listening to the rise and fall of voices, and a heavy thump against the wall, which Terry hoped was Laurie being bounced around the room by Anson. He checked his watch, he and Jenna undressed and got into bed. Terry surprised himself, considering his track record, by getting shy when he dropped his pants. He'd never been naked with a naked woman before. They lay side by side in bed, Jenna continually giggling and causing Terry to freak out by faking passes at him. He had his watch in his hand, it was nearly four. Jenna settled down a bit.
'Are you sure you're up for this?' he asked.
'The question is whether you can get it up convincingly.'
'OK. We'll leave that to my indiscriminate libido, or if the worst comes to the worst, to my hand. Here goes. Three-two-one.' There was a breathless pause. Terry caught the slight noises of covert movements outside in the corridor. He rolled on top of Jenna, looking into her grinning face, feeling the unfamiliar softness of female breasts below him rather than a hard male ribcage. His penis sprang erect as it meshed with her pubic hair, no problem there. She held him and he felt her move her pelvis suggestively under him. Jesus, she was enjoying it. It wasn't supposed to go like this. Before he knew it his penis was rubbing a slick area amongst the hair, it caught and slid in easily. She'd been preparing herself. Jesus, he was in her vagina! She wasn't stopping either.
'Jenna!' he hissed.
'Terry,' she smiled, her face as shameless and lascivious as his own. It was like looking into a mirror. 'Let's make this convincing, huh?' They began moving together. The covers fell off. His penis was in an unfamiliar, wet and velvety place which seemed rather better designed for the purpose of fucking than his usual receptacles, and fucking her was what he began to do. He couldn't stop himself, his legs were tensed and he was thrusting hard and rotating his cock, embraced tightly by her legs. The crash next door and the harsh commands and yelps through the wall meant nothing to him. He was on the ride of his life, and he came inside a groaning and arching Jenna with several gushing spurts as someone kicked down their own door.
He did not need to fake astonishment and bemusement, as the room filled with flak-jacketed police. Black uniforms and helmets surrounded the bed. He fell off Jenna. She shrieked and seized a sheet to cover herself, and he put his hands over his wet and shining erection. 'What the fuck!' he screamed at the gun pointing in his face.
Two minutes later they were sitting on the bed in bathrobes, and Jenna was sobbing convincingly into a succession of paper handkerchiefs. A female police officer was holding her shoulders, and an apologetic police superintendent was telling Terry that they had been caught up on the fringes of an anti-terrorist raid. A suspected cell of armed terrorists had been apprehended next door, and they were, he quite accepted, innocent bystanders. But he needed to get their details, if he might. The police left after ten minutes.
He looked at Jenna once they were alone, 'You raped me!' he said accusingly.
She grinned back, 'You seemed to enjoy it, Terry. Let's face it, we were certainly convincing, weren't we.'
'Why did you let me fuck you?'
'OK, if you won't believe it was dedication to the Peacher foundation, then let's say it was pure lust. You're good looking and oh so well endowed, Terry. It was the sort of meaningless liaison you seem to enjoy. Face it, other people can want sex without consequences. Who are you to complain of feeling used?'
'But I'm as gay as gay can be!'
'Ah... but isn't life complicated, Terry? Fact is you enjoyed it... a lot. Your cock's already begging for more, look at you.'
'Now you're mocking.'
Jenna sobered. 'Yes I am, I'm sorry Terry. There was another reason too. Think of this the next time you and Paul are together. Maybe you'll understand a bit better how he feels, even if only from the other direction.'
Terry grunted unhappily, and reached for the television controls. The five o'clock local news came up, and the Holiday Inn, flashing blue lights with excited reporters filled the screen. They could see the TV lights below in the street outside their room. A suspected terrorist cell had been located by a tip off to the city police. Four armed men were arrested, one a known mercenary. Further guns and drugs were found concealed in a toilet cistern in a search of the room.
'Well goodbye to my little Walther, but something tells me I won't need it again,' Terry said regretfully.
Jenna was dressing. 'Where did you get the drugs?'
'Oh, a friend at the Queen's knows someone at the Lamb and Flag who can lay his hands on all sorts of interesting pills at short notice. Had to pad the bag out with a lot of Viagra, which I hope will cause Anson a certain embarrassment. The police were easy to manage. The duty officer was my godfather, and he agreed to pass on my tip anonymously.'
'They're not going to get out of this one in a hurry in the current over-sensitive environment,' gloated Jenna. 'I think you can say job done here, Terry. And a job bloody well done, too. You're a master. The bastards still don't know what hit them, I'll bet.'
Terry felt all warm and happy. Anson was out of the game, maybe for good. He stood up next to Jenna, and took her by the shoulders, pulling off her as yet unbuttoned shirt. She wore no bra, and he began gently fondling her small breasts and rubbing her stubby nipples. She caught her breath audibly. He pushed his hands down into her bikini briefs to find that slick area again. She shuddered, but could hardly resist him. He dropped his robe, pulled down her pants and dragged her with him naked on to the bed.
'OK Jenna, want to tell me what it is that you heterosexuals do which is such fun? I've had lesson one, want to give me some extra tuition?'
The lascivious look was back on her face and her nubile body was squatting over him. She bent down and they joined mouths and he sought her breasts, licking sucking and biting. It wasn't so bad at all, thought Terry, as she impaled herself on his erection and began working on an orgasm that shook them both to their cores about twenty minutes later.
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