In Love With Lori Ch 04 1

This is the direct follow-on from Part 3, and the planned continuation of the original series, so reading Part 3 first might be a good idea to acquaint yourself with the storyline.

Many thanks to MRiceman1964 for editing, commenting and sanity-checking me, and for Bonnie's help and viewpoint! As always, I caution the reader that this is not the real world, it's my version, so while it may look similar, if you held it up over the real thing the corners probably won't line-up and there might be a few odd dark patches here and here. Any reality you choose to invest it with is entirely your business, I'm not here to tell you how things are, only how I wish things could be; I'm just glad you elected to join me for a while in my world!

If you like it, please rate it, if you don't please tell me why! All comments are acted upon, unless they're impossible, illegible, improbable, or violate the laws of reality, and you should know, calling me an idiot has no effect; my wife's been doing that for years, and I'm still here...

BB1958

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Arriving back in England was a lot less traumatic that I thought it would be. The flight was on time, our seats were good, and comfortable, and we cleared Customs & Immigration with only the token interview for Lori, as an incoming immigrant. Her passport duly stamped, we trailed through the Arrivals lounge, people stopping in their tracks to ogle this vision of hip-swaying, traffic-stopping loveliness by my side. We managed to hail a taxi into central London, to spend a few nights in Marble Arch to give Lori a chance to sight-see and do the tourist thing. After that, we'd decided to head on down to the flat in Epsom, in Surrey, not too far from the famous racecourse. We would be basing ourselves there for the next few months while we house-hunted and planned our formal wedding, thanks to my friend who owned it; he was on secondment in Dubai, so he told us to use it as a base for as long as we needed it. Lori and Aunt Sophie would plan the whole service, dress, cake, and reception thing; I was going back to finish my surgical rotation at the hospital I was trained at, St. Giles' in South London.

When we arrived at the hotel, Lori was a little overwhelmed by it; the hotel was located at the top of Park Lane, looking all the way down Park Lane, towards Buckingham Palace. Our suite was an Edwardian fantasy; all Carrara marble walls and crisp linen tablecloths, polished brass fittings and teak panelling. Lori thought it was the most romantic place she'd ever seen or imagined, and put her in the frame of mind I was hoping for. She was not in Iowa anymore, and I wanted her to start feeling at home as soon as possible. After we had unpacked, I asked her what she wanted to do first. Her reply was to kiss me seriously, pushing me backwards until the backs of my knees hit the bed, and I went over, her on top of me. We horsed around for a while, wrestling, tickling, groping, until I was able to pin her down and look into her beautiful eyes.

"So, Mrs. Denham, my real, true, actual wife-and-not-sister, what were you planning on doing now that you've decoyed me into your lair?"

Lori grinned back at me, and pulled me in for a long, slow, deep kiss, making my nerve-endings prickle and my temperature rise as I felt myself flushing.

"Well, Doctor Denham, I was wondering if you could give me one of your 'special' injections; I feel a sudden irresistible attack of nymphomania coming on..." she said in her best 'innocent little girl' voice, the one she knows I can't resist.

"We shall have to see, won't we?" I leered at her, pulling at the button on her jeans, working it open so I could slide the zipper down.

"Why Doctor Denham, whatever are you doing?" she asked me in that voice again, making me lose concentration as I started tugging her jeans down.

"Young lady, before I can give you an injection, I have to give you a check-up first!" I chuckled, slowly stripping her and marvelling, as I always did, at her smooth china-white skin, her firm taut young flesh, and her marvellously pneumatic body as more of it was revealed as I slowly, painstakingly removed her clothes. Lori smiled at me, batting her bright blue eyes every time I looked at her, her whole presence alluring, tempting, wickedly desirable, and mine!

At last, I had her down to her micro underwear, a few wisps of silk and chiffon, nothing more than token garments, worn to tease and titillate me, not for any reason of decorum or need to conceal; at this point, I could be forgiven for having a little gloat; no, actually, I had a HUGE gloat. This girl was mine! Look on, all ye mortal men, and despair, I got the prize, she was mine, all mine, mwahahahaha!

Now she went to work on me, unbuttoning my slacks and fumbling at the buttons on my work shirt, hastily assisting me to strip down to my boxers, noting with satisfaction the bulge tenting the front of said boxers.

"Oh Dr. Denham, I think you're not well, look at you, you're all swelled-up!" she husked, "I think you need some massage!" and she slid her hand into my shorts and proceeded to 'massage' me, her warm hand rhythmically squeezing and pumping my shaft, making me even harder, if possible; it was already so hard you could shatter paving slabs with it, or etch paving glass, but she did the impossible; she tensed it up even further.

"There, just like Reverend Willis used to ask me to do at Sunday School, doesn't that feel better?" she cooed, devilment playing in her eyes while I was torn between giggling at what she was saying and concentrating on not bursting right through the material of my shorts and slapping her in the forehead with Davey Jr.

While she was groping me, I was just as happily groping her, slipping her underwear off her and getting her naked for phase two of my dastardly plan; lure her into bed for some serious horizontal jogging and a pumping session or three...

Lori slid my shorts down, allowing my cock into the open, and now I was as naked as she, and she wasted no time in sliding her lips over the end, giving me a quick suck as a preliminary for the main event. I pulled her up to me, kissing her deeply, my arousal so intense I could taste it; all I wanted to do was let myself go and ram my cock into her as hard and as fast as I could, and I didn't care where it went. Lori, however had very definite ideas about what she wanted to do, rubbing my head over and around her hot wet slit, showing me what was coming next.

I rolled onto my back, taking her with me, so she was lying on top of me, still rubbing and grinding her mound against me as she wriggled on top of me. She had that grin on her face again, that catching of her bottom lip between her teeth that told me something fun (and inventively dirty!) was brewing. God I love this girl!

Lori kissed me and sat upright to straddle me, her slit a hot damp sensation on my lower belly. She began to slide back and forth, rubbing her damp pussy against me, grinning minxily at me as she did so. I reached for her fabulous, gravity-defying breasts, feeling her nipples solidly erect and thrumming against my palms as I cupped her beauties. She smiled at that, and clamped her hands over mine, using my hands to tease and stimulate her nipples as she ground and gyrated on top of me.

While my hands were busily enjoying her phenomenal boobs, my cock was feeling left out, to say the least. My erection was now so solid it was painful, and at last Lori seemed to remember it was there, reaching behind herself to squeeze and pump me quickly, grinning at me all the while.

"What she we do with this, Doctor-Man?" she husked, lifting herself slightly to rub the head against her crotch, but especially against her rosebud, as she slowly rubbed her pussy wetly against me, her secretions forming a slick film on my lower belly as her labia dragged back and forth in her dance on me. I arched my back in desperation, hoping to slide my aching cock into her, but she slid away from me.

"Uh-uh, Doctor-Man, not yet!" she cooed, her eyes glinting with amusement and arousal. She was heating up, and she wanted to play this game by her rules, so I would have to play along to get to that place I wanted. She continued to slide back and forth on me, using little hip-jerking movements, squeezing my cock and occasionally sliding her pussy lips over it, making it slick and wet before rubbing it over the tight crinkled star of her anus.

Finally she decided she was ready, and, holding my cock like a spear pointing at her anus, she slid herself back down and forced herself against me, pushing my cock into her tight anus against the resistance of her tight ring, until the head popped into her. At the same time she rubbed her steaming pussy with her other hand. I arched my back and pushed forward, meeting her as she impaled herself on me, the sensation of my cock sliding into her almost dry nearly too much to bear. She was sobbing and gasping at the invasion, the feeling of the raw, almost rough way my cock was being forced into her obviously affecting her deeply.

At last I was all the way in, and Lori leaned down on me a she caught her breath. I reached for her magnificent arse and grabbed both cheeks beginning to slide myself in and out of her, but she grinned at me and shook her head.

"No David, I want to do this my way!" she gritted, and with that began an easy, hip-rolling pumping motion, like she was riding a mechanical bull, slipping up and then sliding back down onto my cock. The dragging friction, the damp heat and the constriction of her tight rectal tube around my cock had me ready to shoot inside a few seconds. Lori sensed what she was doing to me, and leaned back, one hand resting on my thighs for support as the other rubbed and pulled at her wet slit and hard, erect clitoris. At the same time, she slowed her hip-thrusting ride on my cock, speeding up to take me to the brink then slowing and dropping me back down, again and again, until I was at fever pitch, an almost overpowering need building in me to explode inside my beautiful sister-wife, my darling Lori!

Lori's hand at her pussy was a blur now, as she rubbed, and stroked, pulled and squeezed as she stimulated herself, until, with a loud sighing groan, she slumped forward, her hands on my midsection as she shuddered and quivered, her orgasm bolting through her and jarring her with its intensity. Her anus clamped down on my pumping cock, and with that my cock swelled and pulse after pulse of sperm lanced out of me, painting the inside of her rectum and bowels with my hot spunk as I came with such force my eyes whited-out and my ears popped.

As I came, the feel of me ejaculating so forcefully inside her set her off again, and she mewled and shook as orgasm took her again and again, powerful aftershocks rattling through her and lighting up her central nervous system with sensation and pleasure.

At last the tremors died away, and slumped down on me, her lips finding mine as she held herself against me.

"That was so good, Davey, keep doing that to me, and I'll consider keeping you!" she grinned when she finally broke our kiss.

I slid my hands back down to her lovely backside, squeezing those glorious globes as I nibbled and licked her neck, her shoulders, and her earlobes, anywhere I could reach, in fact.

"Davey, I'm hungry, let's eat somewhere nice tonight! Do you know a good place?"

I did indeed; the Hotel had already made reservations for us at a famous Michelin-starred restaurant just around the corner on Upper brook Street.

I told Lori we were dining at one of the best restaurants in London, so she had to get her boots and socks on, as we only had an hour to make our reservations.

30 minutes later we were walking out to the waiting car, a sleek Mercedes limousine. Lori was wearing that stunning red minidress she'd worn for dinner with Sophie the night she'd told her she was pregnant, and those stellar red stiletto's, and with her china complexion and her jet black hair cascading down her back, she looked completely stunning. Passing cars were slowing down to ogle her, and I had to grin; I was right, she really was a traffic stopper!

We got the same kind of reception at the restaurant; people were craning their necks to look at her, their foreheads wrinkling as they tried to place her. 'A stunningly beautiful girl in a micro-dress, with a body like that, she must be famous, where have I seen her before?' was the general undercurrent in the room as we were seated, and Lori lapped up every molecule of it, playing to the crowd for all she was worth. Her Midwest accent broadened, and her frequent head-tossing as she flicked her hair out of her eyes, and her constant crossing and re-crossing of her legs were followed by every man in the room. We had no lack of waiters; all she had to do was look up and there would be one there; I got the impression they were competing to see who could get there fastest just so she could grace him with her attention.

A couple of minor TV celebs came in and were seated at their own tables, people I knew vaguely from some soap or the other, and one of them, a sleazy-looking individual, sent a bottle of champagne over to our table; Lori declined it without looking at him and had it sent back, much to the amusement of his friends and the surrounding tables. He tried to send it over again, but I intercepted it, asked a waiter for a wastebasket, and dropped it in, again much to the amusement of his friends and the restaurant in general. At that point the Maitre d' asked him to leave, so he and his mates slunk out, where no doubt any passing paparazzi would capture the picture of a minor TV celeb being booted out of a top restaurant for being a boorish prick.

Lori was highly amused, and asked why I'd gone through the whole pantomime of dropping the champagne in the trash.

"You know, darling boy, I could have just gone over there, dragged him upright, and kneed him in the balls, that would have given him the message loud and clear!"

I laughed out loud; I didn't need to protect my wife, she was quite capable of defending herself against pests. When we eventually left, having had a superb meal of wild salmon, grilled beef, scallops, and a selection of cheeses, the car and our driver was waiting for us. As we came out, that idiot from earlier tried to accost Lori, so I had to accidently elbow him under the chin and listen to the click as his teeth slammed together. He tried to splutter something so I pulled him closer by his neck and grabbed his balls, squeezing as hard as I could, enjoying the sight of his pupils dilating as the elevated testicular compression threatened to pop his eyeballs out of their sockets. When I judged I had his full attention, I spoke quietly and urgently to him.

"Look, twat, if you don't fuck off and leave my wife alone, I'm going to crush your plums and feed you the squashy remains, are you getting this? Now fuck off and stay fucked-off! Keep away from my wife, you pathetic little prick, the only time she'd ever go with a snotty little shit-stain like you is after she's dead, and not even then, so fuck off or I'll rip your balls off! I mean it, boy, do yourself a favour and fuck off, or that man over there is going to shove your face down your neck and pull it out of your arse!"

He looked disbelievingly at me, the words 'do you know who I am?' hovering on his lips, when a hand like a shovel descended on top of his head and pulled him upright by his cane-rolled nappy hair. It was our driver, who'd seen what was going on and decided to intervene.

"Listen to me, you little prick!" he rumbled, "The nice gentleman told you to fuck off, now fuck off!" Our new chum tried to struggle, whereupon the driver spun him round and head-butted him right between the eyes. I heard the crunch from where I was standing, and watched interestedly as blood spurted from his flattened nose, but I made no move to assist him; I'm a Cardio, Maxillo-Facial is a closed book to me...

The driver pulled him upright again by his frizzy hair, and gave him an underarm punch between the legs that must have made his balls vibrate like speed-bags and shredded his eardrums, turning him around so he could throw-up in peace, then tripping him into the gutter, kicking him in the backside while simultaneously punching him in the back of the head as he went sprawling. His mates all stood around staring at the huge man who'd just kicked their friend's arse with such ease, and the excited comment from the TV crew waiting outside to catch the rich and shameless at play as they caught the whole thing in glorious living colour was a delight to hear.

Lori was trying her hardest not to laugh, but it burst out of her, and our little friend had to contend with the sound of her laughter pealing out as he picked himself up out of whatever nasty thing it was he'd just landed in. We watched the camera flashes going off, capturing the shot of a minor TV soap star trying to scrape dogshit and puke off his pimp suit while cradling his sore balls in the full glare of the paparazzi spotlight. Blood was drooling down his face from his squashed and pulpy nose, said face not improved by its sudden impact with the road, vomit smeared his shiny jacket, and a large patch of his cane-rolled hair was mysteriously missing from the top of his head. The driver grinned wolfishly at him, and opened his hand to let a hank of hair fall to the pavement, dusting his hands off as he opened the car door for Lori and me.

We climbed back into the car and drove the short distance back to the hotel. On the way there, I thanked the driver, whose name was Jimmy, who tried to brush it off as part of the service.

He did say one thing that caught my attention, though.

"If you don't mind me saying so, Sir, your wife is a very pretty lady, she's gonna get a lot of that, maybe you need to think about getting someone to be with her so this doesn't happen again!"

I thought for a few seconds, agreed that he was right, and made a decision.

"You're right. You're hired!"

He sputtered as he tried to backpedal.

"I didn't mean me, I was just pointing it out, I wasn't...!"

I grinned at him.

"You just talked yourself into a job, Jimmy. We'll talk about the money inside, but it will be significantly better than what you earn now, I promise! Do you own this car?"

He shook his head. "Nossir, it belongs to the service, I rent it from them."

"Okay," I said, "from tomorrow it's yours; you drive my wife around, keep an eye on her, and help her with whatever she wants. That means you'll probably be spending a lot of time in Malls; I don't envy you! I'll have all the paperwork sorted for you by the end of the week, but from now until you've had enough, you work for Lori. And we'll have none of this 'Sir/Ma'am' nonsense; my name is David, Lori's you already know. Tomorrow we want to do a little sightseeing, so could you please be here for breakfast at Nine o'clock, then Lori wants to see the Tower of London and drive across Tower Bridge, are you okay with that?"

Jimmy grinned broadly.

"'Course I'm okay with that, I'm looking forward to it!"

"Good, because after that she wants to see Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square and go shopping in Knightsbridge, so you're going to have your work cut out for you; once you get Lori in a department store you may have to send in the dogs to get her out again!"

By this time we'd arrived back at the hotel, so Lori went up to our suite while Jimmy and I 'repaired to the bar' where we managed to find a couple of beers with our names on them.

We chatted amicably, sounding each other out. I discovered he'd been a Royal Marine Commando, when he finally left he'd worked as a security guard, then as a bouncer, before landing this job as a driver/chauffeur, always on single-drop gigs, so he'd rarely even spoken to the people he was driving around. I told him this job was going to be more interesting than that; Lori was going house hunting, probably in Oxfordshire or Royal Berkshire, so he could look forward to a lot of house viewings.