Easy As Falling Asleep
by Angharad
part 239.

I cuddled up to Simon in our bed, actually my bed, but he seemed to spend more time in it than his own. I told him about my concern about the Russian woman and what Henry had said.

"I think he's right. Remember, as my fiancee you are part of the family, plus an employee of the bank."

"I'm a consultant," I huffed, although it was meant as a joke.

"Yeah, course you are," he patronised back, "like the tellers are account advisors. If they pay you, they own you."

"What!" I gasped, genuinely shocked.

"Let's face it, they are paying you a good screw for very little work. Even when you make this film thing with Des, you'll still have been well compensated."

"I know, it's just that I don't know if I want to make a film."

"If the bank wants one, you'll make it. Just put in lots of expenses claims."

"How can I do that if I'm not spending it in the first place?"

"Duh!"

"Simon, that is fraud, it's dishonesty. I won't do that."

"Fine, okay. I'll get them to sponsor your trip to Menorca to talk with the University over there about the captive breeding program."

"Won't I have to pay tax on that?"

"Not if we set up the university programme as a charity."

"But the charity commissioners have tightened up the criteria."

"Look, we have people who do this sort of thing for a living. I'll speak to them. We'll go for say, five trustees, two from your university, two from the bank and one from somewhere important, maybe Tom has an idea of someone we could ask."

"It sounds a bit dishonest to me."

"I suspect the bank would want to do it anyway, it helps with their tax bills, and you also get extra from government for it. Besides, think of it later, when you're on their board as Dr, The Lady Cameron. Titles can impress some people."

"Yes, but I'm not one of them, Simon Cameron."

"Are all women as hard to please as you are?"

"Dunno."

"Hmm," he said follwed by, "Come here wench, and he began to tickle me." This of course ended in me squealing and when he'd got tired of tormenting me, he began to kiss me. I shut up, except for the odd sigh, especially when he stroked my chest while he kissed me. Then the sighs became moans. And despite how much I knew it would hurt, I wanted him inside me.

He declined, saying he would wait until we were married.

"But, Simon, you're a man."

"I wondered when you'd notice," he smiled at me.

"You're only supposed to think about sex, cars, football and more sex, then sex in cars, sex at the football and cars at the football and..."

"Yeah, and you're a woman, all you're supposed to think about is shopping."

"You won't believe this, Simon, but I saw this lovely coat...."

"Oh shut up, you daft female." With that he kissed me some more and I wriggled and writhed under his attentions.

Finally, I felt something pressing against me and gripped it firmly but gently. His body went rigid for a moment. Then I squeezed it rhythmically. For a moment he forgot about kissing me.

"Is that nice?" I asked, knowing full well what the answer was.

"Oh God yes!" he said breathing hard.

"Would you like me to continue?"

"Don't you dare stop," he said desperately.

"Now I have your attention...." I laughed, "only joking."

After he'd changed his underwear and I'd had a wee, we settled back down in bed. "Now it's your turn," he said.

"I'm tired," I said. The initial passion had gone out of things now, and only the memory of the discomfort remained. I'm sure in time I'd be happy to let him play down there, but for now, I didn't. I turned over on my side and he put his arm around me, his hand resting on my breast, which he stroked and tweaked every now and then. It was nice and I fell asleep in very good spirits and probably glad he'd not taken up my offer.

I'd just come out of the bank and I spotted two of them. They looked like Russians and they also looked as mean as it's possible to look without your face actually turning inside out.

I knew they'd made me. I could dash back into the bank and call the police. I turned, there was a third one behind me cutting off my retreat.

For some reason I was wearing ridiculously high heels, so running was out of the question. They were closing on me. My tight skirt meant I wouldn't be able to kick them. I stopped and took off my shoes, they would make effective weapons, the heels were like needles.

The first thug came at me, I ducked and belted him between the eyes with my right shoe. It stuck in his forehead and he fell backwards gurgling. I swung at the second but he grabbed me and I screamed. He grabbed me and I struggled and kicked...

"Hey Cathy, cut it out, that hurt. Cathy wake up, you're dreaming, ouch stop it."

Somehow Simon's voice penetrated my dreaming mind. I awoke, my throat was sore from shouting or screaming, my face was wet with tears and my heart was beating like a fast revving engine.

"Hey, come on babes, it's all right, hush it's okay. I won't let anyone hurt you." He cuddled me tightly as I wept into his arms. It was only a dream, but so vivid. I decided, I would do nothing more about the Russian woman. I was too scared of what could happen.

"Can't you two have sex a bit more quietly?" said Stella's voice from just inside the door.

"Ha bloody ha," said Simon, "Cathy's just had a bad dream, I think she saw you in it, hence the screams."

"Bleh!" she said sticking out her tongue, then the door closed.

"I wonder if she shut the door on her tongue?" said Simon.

For some reason, my reaction to that was hyper and I nearly giggled myself into a choking fit. I also came close to wetting myself and had to run off to the toilet. As I peed I had a picture in my mind of Stella shutting the door on her tongue and I giggled again, only it hurt down below. That stopped me immediately, the giggling, I mean. A few minutes later I limped back to bed with shooting pains down below.