Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 117

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Cathy gets to know the family!

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
By Bonzi with sex scenes by Tiddles the porno kitten.
part 117.

"You mean he owns this place?!" I gasped.

"Not quite, the bank does, he's just the majority shareholder of the bank."

"So he owns it?" I repeated.

"About half of it, come on or we'll miss the peasants touching their forelocks."

"What?"

"The staff arse kissing," she sniggered.

"I don't know if I want to see that Stella."

"Come on, they'll give us a good meal."

"I think I may have lost my appetite."

"You can't go all precious on me now girl."

I still buzzed when she called me that, I suppose one day I might just get used to it. "I really don't know about this Stella."

"Come on, you can do it," she grabbed be above the elbow and practically dragged me into the hotel lobby.

"Good afternoon Lady Stella," said the hotel manager. I knew he was the hotel manager because his badge said so. He also looked slimy and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. He had such shiny shoes that he could almost see your face in them, and he could certainly see up your skirts with them. I shivered a little.

"Good afternoon Miss Watts," he knew my name, damn!

"Good afternoon, Mr Pringle," I read off his badge. If he appeared in my mammal count, I think it would have to be under rat, but that might be doing a disservice to Rattus rattus and Rattus norvegicus (black and brown rats respectively) they only carry plague and hepatitis, he was far more dangerous. More like a viper in the graminae.

"Lord and Lady Stanebury are in the green room, please follow me."
I followed his wobbling buttocks as he minced his way along the corridor. He was as bent as a four pound....! What was I thinking? Who was I to cast aspersions? He might be quee.... gay, so what, that wasn't why he was creepy, it was something else I couldn't put my finger on, well not without wearing rubber gloves!

We followed into the green room, which was perhaps the top dining room, it was covered in ankle deep carpets, the walls were covered in paintings above the dado rail, below the hessian wall cover must have cost a packet. It was green, and the gently subdued lighting made one feel relaxed almost immediately.

Although subdued there was plenty of light to see across the restaurant and to where Simon's parents were seated. They waved to us and Stella upped the pace of her step. Even in ridiculous heels she could motor, whereas I, the tyro, limped along behind her. I bet I could beat her on a bike ride though but not in this dress!

The manager eased the chairs behind us and Henry declared he'd already ordered for every one, including the wine. That irritated me. I like to browse a menu to tickle my imagination, then look for the things I can afford. Even with Simon, I didn't rob him, just because I could.

"What are we having?" I asked, feeling less hungry than I was anxious.

"Please wait and see dear lady, I promise you won't be disappointed." Henry laid on the charm but I suspect my eyes still registered some irritation or fear. "I also promise not to eat you, so do relax dear girl, you look so tense."

"I'm not very good with surprises," I said diffidently.

"But I beg to differ, you surprised Monica and me. We had been told you were attractive, but you aren't you are sublime."

For a moment I thought he was deriding me. I suspect my mouth dropped open. I hoped I wasn't dribbling on my dress.

"I told you she was extremely pretty Daddy," protested Stella.

"You did my darling daughter, you didn't say she was absolutely stunning."

I felt that in terms of colour, I was probably a shade brighter then Monica's ruffled silk top. I glanced at her and she was smiling benignly at me.

"I do hope you are going to front the posters and leaflets for this project. We are investing quite a lot of money in it and it would mean so much to me, to know that we had authenticity as well as beauty on the cover."

If I hadn't been so stunned I would probably have laughed, authenticity? Me? Ha bloody ha! I'm a fake, ersatz, what a laugh! I glanced again at Monica and at her nose, I gazed at her nose - Oh God what was I doing?

I managed to cough and it broke the spell. I was still blushing and embarrassed but had missed Henry and Stella's last few comments.

"The poor girl is embarrassed Henry, leave her in peace," my ally was Monica of all people. Perhaps she hadn't seen me mesmerised by her nose.

"Very well darling, but only if she agrees to model for me, I mean for us, I mean for the posters."

"I really don't feel comfortable about it." I said blushing even brighter than before, I was beginning to wonder if they would have to rename it the pink room with all the heat I was giving off. I felt incredibly hot. A little dribble of sweat ran down my back and I knew my bra was sticking to my breasts. I prayed my perfume would keep me smelling sweet.

"Cathy also rides a bike Daddy," Stella offered changing the subject but not far enough away from the previous one, me!

"Well lots of students do dear, I did as a student at Cambridge."

"No I mean she rides a real bike."

"What do you mean darling? Just what sort of bike do you ride Cathy?"

"I have a Scott."

"Oh an American thing."

"Yes," I agreed, why couldn't they talk about someone else?

"Go on tell him, it's one of those plastic things, light as a feather drop handlebars and loadsa gears."

Henry's eyes lit up again, "You ride a race bike?"

I nodded.

"Do you race?"

"I'm not very good." I blushed again, why couldn't I have left my door locked this morning?

"She is Daddy, you should have seen her in the inter-varsity race, she beat loads."

"My my, what an interesting young lady you are, full of surprises. Beauty, brains and a sense of competition. How interesting?" Nothing he said made me feel more relaxed or more fond of him, if anything I felt more frightened and wished that I was somewhere else. Maybe I could choke to death on a fishbone or something?

Waiters arrived as if by a bus load and suddenly our empty table became burdened with food, almost enough to make it groan under the weight of it. Plates were placed before each of us and Henry invited us to 'dig in'.

It looked like he'd ordered the whole a la carte menu. The food was magnificent but my appetite was absent and I only grazed, finding most enthusiasm for the sorbet, which was heavenly.

I tried to engage Monica in conversation, "Are you involved in the bank as well?"

"Only in trying to empty my account," laughed Henry. She blushed and shook her head.

I went back to my sorbet. I tried again, "Stella tells me you have a TT."

"Yes," she smiled and her husband interrupted with chapter and verse on its engine size and performance and how many dead flies were on its front bumper. How was it that with the exception of Simon, most other male dining companions were total bores? If Simon got his charm from his dad, I was giving him the elbow tonight. Somehow, I didn't think that was likely.

What is it about middle-aged men that they feel compelled to impress younger women? Gregg had done it and now Henry was at it. I almost felt my eyes glaze over and it wasn't from the wine, I hadn't drunk any.

I drifted while Stella and her father jousted at the table, Monica laughed politely on occasion, it drew me back to conscious awareness of where I was. Monica was gazing at me, no she was staring at me. I wondered if she had noticed something, did she spot the counterfeit? I felt myself colouring up again.

"Phew it's warm in here," I said fanning myself with a place mat, "I think I shall get some air, excuse me." I rose from the table and Henry stood, his manners were impeccable.

I walked a little uneasily back across the room, clutching my little bag. I walked towards a sign which said, 'toilets and fire exit.' I assumed there would be an exit there somewhere and I could get some cool fresh air.

I found a french window which opened out onto balcony, I slipped through it and stood watching the sea in the distance, the fresh breeze cooling my sweaty body and I hoped restoring my energy.

I drifted down memory lane, well a sort of projected memory. I wondered how my parents would really feel about me, would they see me as a pretty woman or an abomination?

"Are you okay Cathy?" The voice made me start, I was so rapt in my daydream. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump." I spun around and Monica was standing behind me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come out," I apologised, blushing yet again and feeling my heart thumping in my chest, I was sure my left boob was jumping from the pressure.

"We were a little worried about you, you went a bit pale."

"I'll be okay, it was just so warm in there."

"Henry and Stella were so absorbed in their converation, I thought I'd come and check on you."

While that statement in my usual paranoid state could mean any number of things, I took it at face value.

"You like Stella don't you?"

"Well," I began, "she nearly killed me, she is incredibly bossy and devious and drops me in it all the time.... How am I doing?"

Monica laughed, "She does tend to overwhelm one somewhat, but that is the Camerons. All or nothing."

I almost felt like challenging her as to why she was really standing with me. I knew in my water that she was holding back on something.

"You really are a very pretty girl," she said staring again.

Oh shit! Now I knew why she was there.



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