Part 3 - The Royal Observatory at Greenwich
After releasing the Contessa from the chair she cleansed herself behind the screen with the basin of water and bar of soap that I had supplied. I would have gladly stood and watched the shadow show again, but unfortunately I did not have the same fortuitous lighting as previous, so took the time instead to clean up the apparatus and chair.
I felt guilty at having taken advantage of her for my own base pleasures, but the look of utter serenity on her face when she came out from behind the screen dissuaded me from dropping on my knees and begging her forgiveness. Truth be told, it was not the first time that I had been tempted in such circumstances , but it was the first time that I had ever given in to it.
Previously I had managed to retain my professionalism.
She walked straight towards me when she came out from behind the screen, stopping a mere foot away. She lifted her hand to my face and stroked my cheek softly.
"I know you feel guilt," she said very softly, looking up into my eyes. "Please do not on my behalf - for I wanted it at least as much if not more than you yourself did." She smiled at me and my heart melted.
"In fact," she continued, "I can't wait for my second treatment tomorrow morning." She winked at me.
I blushed as she turned away and headed to the door. As her hand fell on the doorknob she turned to see me running my fingers back through my hair. "I don't know about you, but I appear to have somehow worked up an appetite. May I at least offer you afternoon tea before our evenings engagement?"
How could I refuse?
Bernhardt was waiting at the front door when we had appeared after cleaning up, with a cab waiting just outside. I guess that had been Contessa Vincente's shouted instruction to him. He was very protective of his ward, and obviously had a great respect for her. He had been glad that she had indeed come to no harm as promised, and was quite pleasantly surprised at how serene she looked. He nodded to me in a man-to-man acknowledgment that I was on the way to being trusted. This surprised me in turn - I had expected something completely different ; confrontation maybe, a warning perhaps, even violence. He must have had a good idea what we had been up to, after all.
It was a strange juxtaposition; having recently been tasting the Contessa's holiest of holies I found myself sitting taking late afternoon tea in the Ritz that I had passed earlier in the day - snacking on quartered crustless sandwiches, vol au vonts and endless cakes laid out on three layers of China plates washed down with copious amounts of black tea. Trying to make polite conversation with the hangers-on and sycophants who kept wishing just two minutes of the Contessa's time for some giggling trivial matter whilst thinking of my emissions sticking to her heart-shaped pubic foliage and sliding down between her pumped up labia. Especially as there happened to be a red heart shaped confection on one of the dainty cakes.
The Contessa soaked up the attention as if she was born to it, which I suppose she was. I, on the other hand, found the whole idea quite tawdry. Had there been a purpose other than just a cult of celebrity I could understand it. Had they been asking of her astronomic findings I could well get behind their thirst for knowledge. However, it was to enquire after where she bought her rather spectacular boots, or if she had a brother of marrying age or ... to be honest I zoned out the ongoing conversations, nodding or smiling when I thought it might be appropriate.
The lovely and very playful Contessa of course noticed this fairly quickly and, with a glint in her eye and a smile just on the very corner of her mouth, kept throwing questions my way whenever I drifted off. Vague questions, never specific enough for me to glean what they had been discussing.
"And what do you think Dr Stein?"
"Would that be a fair assessment, do you think?"
She was playing with me and we both knew it. So I played back.
"You know I couldn't possibly disagree with anything you say on the matter, Contessa," I would reply in exaggerated seriousness.
"Whyever not, good sir?"
"Because it would be in all the society papers the very next day, and would be the absolute ruin of me," I replied.
There was an intake of breath all around. Then the Contessa winked at me and burst out laughing. As I knew she would. This gave the sycophants the go ahead to laugh too, although I'm sure half of them didn't get the joke.
I saw that most of them wondered who I was, and what I was doing with the Contessa, but we weren't telling. I did notice some sidelong glances and whispered conversations in my direction. I think that some of them knew my name from somewhere, but I'm not sure they made the connection.
Still, it seemed an interminable delay to our plans. It did give me the opportunity to watch the grace with which the Contessa held herself; her charm and wit and poise, her ability to make everyone feel at ease. Her serenity and calm seemed to spread to those around her.
Eventually it was time for us to go, with the Contessa having to apologise for leaving and promise them she would return. It was fully dark now, but thankfully for us the storm had passed, and it looked to be a great night for watching the skies. Bernhardt had once again hailed us a cab. As before, he rode upfront.
The ride to the observatory gave us time to talk. We sat opposite each other, and I learned from the Contessa that Bernhardt was originally from Hungary and was employed by her father to look after her on her travels - a chaperone cum bodyguard cum companion. He had been with her since she was fifteen years old and was fiercely protective of her, but also helped occupy her time on the long journey throughout Europe. Having been in the Swiss Guard prior to his present role he could handle almost anything from field stripping a Lee Enfield in the dark to driving a team of horses at speed to sewing ribbon onto little girls ballet pumps. He was also, apparently an excellent chef and fluent in seven languages. A veritable master of tongues the Contessa had heard tell from some of the older girls in court as she was growing up.
It had been years since I had spoken of it, but I recounted briefly the sad story of the passing of my dear Mary. The Contessa got very teary eyed and lent across to placatingly put her hand on my knee. I felt stirrings, but refused to recount the obscene graphic nature of what I had been forced to watch. Instead I felt my own eyes start to water and my voice quiver as my mind played it over once more in interminable detail.
I must have appeared quite pathetic, as the Contessa leaned closer to me and put a hand on each knee.
"You really are a very passionate man, aren't you?" she asked, looking into my eyes. I was unable to answer, sure that my voice would give me away. My resolve stiffened. I would not allow myself to appear weak in front of the Contessa.
We had come down through Tower Hill, and had only just passed the Tower itself. We were moving from the north bank on to Tower Bridge, one of the few bridges rebuilt since the Martians had destroyed all of the bridges across the Thames, when the front wheels hit the expansion joint. The cold weather must have shrunk the metal, so that there was a slight gap in the road. Not as bad as a pothole, but when you're slightly off-balance like the Contessa was it can throw you, quite literally.
In this case it was into my lap. As if in slow motion she fell towards me, a look of utter surprise on her face, mouth opening in alarm. Her hands slid up my thighs as my hands automatically came up to brace her from crashing in to me.
Next thing I knew we were nose to nose and eye to eye, each of my hands cupping a breast and both of the Contessa's hands resting against my genitals. Time stood still. Brief seconds passed that felt like minutes.
There are times in life that you have to make a choice and come what may. And damn the consequences.
I turned my head slightly, pushing forward and kissed her. Not softly, not gently, not chastely, but passionately. I could feel her soft lips against mine, I could smell the dab of eau d'parfum behind her ear, I could sense her pulse. Her eyes opened wide again in surprise before she raised both hands to my chest and pushed herself away from me.
Consequences be damned indeed. I envisaged her calling to Bernhardt to stop the carriage and throw me off of Tower Bridge. I saw the very public scandal and humiliation. Front page headlines as I had joked about, but this time for real.
I then heard Bernhardt shout down from upfront, "Is anything wrong Contessa? What's going on?" I knew that he was using English for my benefit.
The Contessa paused a second, seeing the look of happy resignation on my face. Que sera sera. Even if I ended up in the Thames with broken teeth it was worth that stolen kiss. It was her time to make a decision.
"Contessa?" Bernhardt banged on the side of the carriage. "Is everything alright?" There was a slight note of concern in his voice.
The Contessa looked out the window and then back at me. And then down at my hands which even though she had backed away from me were still somehow attached to her breasts. Her eyes came back up and locked on mine quizzically as if to ask me what I planned to do with my wandering appendages.
In for a penny, in for a pound. Or in this case, might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.
"Bernhardt," the Contessa said, eyes locked with me, loud enough to be heard by her chaperone.
I said, in a voice quiet enough not to be heard outside the carriage, "I absolutely adore your tits Signorina and would love to play with them." So saying I squeezed them.
"Yes Contessa?" her bodyguard enquired, in a tone which told of his readiness to deal with any manner of ill.
"Bernhardt," she paused again, giving me a stern look. "Everything is perfectly fine - I lost my balance when we went over that bump, that's all. The good doctor gave me a hand."
She sat back in her seat and looked at me, sizing me up.
After a few seconds she said, "You want to play with my 'tits' do you Doctor? Well I'm afraid that's not going to happen." If I looked as I felt then I must have looked damnably crestfallen.
With that she leant forward, spread my knees with her hands and knelt between them. "At least not yet," she stated, and then returned my grin before slowly undoing my button fly. I couldn't believe my good fortune - the most amazing and beautiful woman I had ever met was interested in me. I could not recall the last time that anyone had shown me that kind of pleasure, certainly my loving Mary had been very straight-laced and Victorian when it came to night-time habits.
I had to be realistic and realise that this could be a short lived relationship due to the fact she was little more than half my age, and European royalty no less. Plus being so young and beautiful and radiant she was bound to be promised to some lucky bastard who had also been born into the right family. I was not so naïve to think that she saw a future in me.
I had to tell myself that now was not exactly the time to be worrying about that as she eased my rock hard erection from the front of my pants.
"You've seen me, now it's my turn to ... ooooohh," she squealed delightfully. I must confess it to have been one of the most aphrodisiacal sounds I had ever heard. I believe I may have emitted a guttural moan. And if I thought my erection hard before ...
It hindsight it was ironic considering the many attempts to steal the most famour jewels in Britain, that in passing the Tower of London the Contessa was liberating my very own Crown Jewels.
She licked her lips and then bit her bottom one. She slowly looked up at me and just as slowly her tongue came out and licked around my crown. It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen; the almost stroboscopic light from lampposts as we passed, waxing and waning as the tide, shadows sweeping through the carriage from both sides, this wonderful young woman with a grip on my manhood licking it joyfully as one would the creamy deliciousness of a vanilla ice-cream cornet.
I adjusted my seat slightly and she slid my trousers and underwear down to my knees, giving her better access. Now one hand cupped my man-stones, gently rolling them as if betting dice. How pleasurable! If that vice were as delightful as this I would gladly sell my house and medical practice to fund a lifetimes gambling.
I swept her hair back from her face so that I could gaze both lovingly and in awe upon her. She pulled my foreskin down and kissed my manhood all down the length. She rubbed her cheek against it, holding it to her face as she peered adoringly up at me.
"Talk to me," she said softly. "I love your accent." She paused, kissing me, "And it might not raise so many suspicions with Bernhardt if he hears talking."
How she expected me to speak when she took the head of my penis into her sweet mouth and started sucking, swirling her tongue around my meatus I did not know. I sat amazed for a few seconds enjoying this extraordinarily unexpected turn of events.
Then as her head started bobbing, steadily taking more and more of me into her hot, soft mouth while she gently juggled me one handed I started talking.
I don't remember exactly all that I said, but recall mentioning inconsequential memories like whale watching holidays in the Moray Firth, trying to join the Oxford University choir whilst drunk, meeting Mary for the first time at Easter service and the delight that we both felt when after years of trying she finally fell pregnant. Feeling myself wane slightly at that thought I paused before telling stories of interesting cases I had dealt with during my medical profession - though no names were mentioned; allowing the beautiful Contessa's mouth to re-invigorate me.
As we clip-clopped our way through the quiet, dark cobbled streets of Deptford and into Greenwich Bernhardt shouted that we were two minutes out. The Contessa came up from her fellating and suggested we should perhaps make ourselves decent for our arrival. I must confess that my mind had not been on keeping track on our location and had a completely different plan. But I had to admit the merit of her thought. I would have to wait until I got home tonight.
The lights were shining at the Royal Observatory as we rode up through the park, and it was obvious that we were not the only ones there that night. For some reason I had expected it to just be our small group, but what better time after all to make use of the facilities within than on a clear night.
As we drew closer through the avenue of poplar trees, the last drops from the days rain made their way to the tips of the leaves and then, unable to resist the pull of gravity, fell to add their small amount of liquid to the already sodden wet ground. But these small drops made an incredible difference. Not only did they add the most minute volume each, but caused the most amazing effect. The reflected light from the Observatory windows showed beautiful circular intricate interlacing interference patterns in the puddles along the camber of the road. Seeing those patterns made me think - there was an experiment that I might try the very next day.
There was a large, gloss black carriage parked outside the entrance to the Observatory, a pair of greys snickering quietly to themselves. There was no sign of identification on the cab, which seemed somewhat suspicious. Our driver tried to strike up a conversation with the other driver but got nothing more than one syllable answers. Bernhardt jumped down and opened the carriage door for us.
Bernhardt came with us as we entered the foyer. We were most surprised to find a brace of security guards blocking out way, dressed completely in black including soot blackened hand pistols and billy-clubs on very obvious display. I could feel Bernhardt tense alongside me.
"What is the meaning of this?" the Contessa asked with a touch of heat in her voice that I had never heard before.
"Security division, ma'am," the slightly older looking guard stated without emotion.
"Ma'am? Ma'am? Do I look like a 'ma'am' to you?" the Contessa asked. She moved to within two feet of the soldier and looked him in the eye. He did a good job of not blinking, but there was nothing he could do to stop the blush. "I am the Contessa Vincente, and have every right to be here, as you will no doubt see from the signing-in log. I am a Fellow of the ..."
She was interrupted by the younger guard, with a smirk on his face. "Sorry Contessa, but orders is orders ma'am" he said in a tone that clearly said he was anything but sorry, and quite frankly couldn't give a damn who she was. It was as he raised a flat palm to the Contessa conveying an invisible barrier that she was not allowed to cross that I took umbrage and moved forward to intervene out of bravado and a sense of protectionism - I guess my testosterone level might have been high at that moment, certainly my erection hadn't gone away.
"I will have your name and section - I have a meeting with both the Prime Minister and King of these islands tomorrow lunchtime. If you're lucky you may still have jobs come four pm."
Bernhardt was obviously used to these scenarios and came from a no-frills military background. By the time the Contessa finished her sentence, and by the time I reached her shoulder, both of the security guards lay crumpled on the marble floor. I looked from the unconscious figures to Bernhardt in awe and slight fear. The Contessa barely nodded in thanks.
"Bravo," came a voice from a doorway twenty feet away, accompanied by a slow clap. Out walked a very familiar figure. "I heard your carriage and thought it might be our pizza delivery. I must apologise Contessa for the over-enthusiasm of my guards. I would appreciate, however, if you wouldn't dismantle my country single handed," he said. "I hope you haven't killed them - how would I explain that to the tax-payer without starting a diplomatic war?"
My medical training had me down on my knees checking for pulses and other signs of life long before I realised that it was our Prime Minister who had spoken.
"They're okay," I said from my prone position. "They'll hurt somewhat for a few days, but there won't be any lasting ills. Aside from a feeling of absolute embarrassment at not being able to do their jobs." Just to make sure I turned them both into the recovery position.
"Indeed," said the Prime Minister. "I had hoped that our next meeting wouldn't be so confrontational Contessa," he added, swiping his hand to encompass his security detail.
"My apologies Sir Campbell-Bannerman, but my man is very protective of me. And I'm sure the good doctor will make sure they come to no immediate harm."
At that moment the carriage driver came rushing in the door, clearly ready for action if necessary. Sir Henry waved him away as if an annoyance, with an order to patrol the grounds.
"Having encountered you in the Commons yesterday I'm not so sure that you need protection," the PM said with a small grin. "Anyway, what are you doing here?"
Introductions were made and explanations given. Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman was there doing his homework ahead of his meeting with the King and the Contessa the following day. He was a small, white haired and mustachio-ed man, not in the most robust of health. His secretary joined us in the room, looking to see what the hold-up with the pizzas was.
"I do hope there's lots of mozzarella - I do love it's creamy taste," the Contessa said to no-one in particular, licking her lips.
Another round of introductions was made before we followed the two statesmen. Our footsteps echoed in the vast spaces, leaving Bernhardt behind to guard the entry and watch over the unconscious guards.
"Have you been speaking with Annie?" the Contessa asked loudly.
"Absolutely, her and her husband were cited as being on a par even with yourself," the Prime Minister said without attempt at flattery.
