Freya St David stood barely
five feet tall and was slender and pale and the evening sun shone on her
strawberry blonde hair.
Freya was twenty-eight years
old but looked much younger and as a result she was much desired, and she was a
first class flirt.
She was a singleton since her
louse of a boyfriend, who she expecting to marry was now history, she had
suspected for some time that he was shagging her best friend then out of the
blue he confessed to her one night.
From that moment on Freya
took her pleasures where she found them.
She was a district nurse, a
very pretty district nurse and was very experienced and well respected.
Freya’s head was in a spin
because she had finally had word from Captain Hardman.
It was strange the effect of
not hearing from him for so long, after all she had only met him twice, once
briefly at the home of one of her patients and a second time at the Summer
Ball.
Yet he had filled her
thoughts every day since the Ball.
His regiment had left
Afghanistan and because it had been a particularly bloody tour, which had cost
11 dead and 8 wounded from the Downshire’s it was currently in Germany for
R&R before returning to the UK.
This initial contact from the
Captain prompted a flurry of emails between the two of them.
But this was happy news for Freya,
and she looked forward to him coming home.
However, the obvious
happiness she felt over his return was tempered by the affair of the dead
schoolgirl.
Freya had witnessed the
accident and rendered first aid and subsequently followed up the case at the
Churchill Hospital.
Sadly, the girl, Pauline Yeo,
a student at a local boarding school, Carrington Chase, had been mortally
injured when she was hit by a car.
The parents were in Hong Kong
at the time, and they were not expected to arrive in the UK before the girl
passed.
Freya was horrified that a twelve-year-old
girl was going to die alone and she was further angered by the fact that the
girls school weren’t prepared to send anyone to be with Pauline as she slipped
away.
It was Freya who sat with her
through the night and was holding her hand as she died.
She really wanted to tell the
Yeo’s how appallingly the school had behaved to Pauline but couldn’t bring
herself to impose on their grief.
So she decided instead to try
to get the interest of the newspapers but even the “Sunday News” a paper
known less than affectionately as the “Sunday Screws” brushed her off.
She was given the name of a freelance journalist Bob Philips who was renowned for being tenacious and
he took all the information,
a copy of the medical file, a
sworn statement by the attending physician Dr Gossage and most damning of all
the recording of the telephone conversation with the headmistress Ms Hardacre, and
wrote the story but even he was blocked at every turn.
And the words of the
headmistress Ms Hardacre echoed in her head.
“This school has a lot of
friends to deal with the likes of you”
And clearly those friends
were being well employed.
So she used her powers of
divination and could foresee a solution for Freya had a wealthy and powerful
friend of her own.
James Boazman was one of her private patients, or more accurately Amanda
Boazman was the recipient of her nursing skills and during her time at the
house James benefited from Freya’s other talents.
He was a good looking man in his early forties slim and even elegant and
he always smelt gorgeous.
“Hello James” she said as he
opened the door
“Freya! What a wonderful surprise”
James said “Come in”
His poor wife Amanda had passed
away some weeks before and she noticed the change in him immediately, the strain
had left his eyes and the weight had left his shoulders.
They sat in the lounge and
Freya made an impassioned plea for help about how she wanted to give the story
to the papers and the way it was being blocked by powerful friends of the
school.
Then she played him the
recording of the conversation with the headmistress.
“No one at that school cared
enough about that poor girl” she said “they were heartless”
“Which journalist did you
give the story to?” he asked
“Bob Philips” she replied
“I know Bob, he’s a good man
and if he says he’s being blocked then he is being blocked” James said “and
someone is definitely using their influence”
He paused for a moment and
then said
“However I own the Sunday
News”
So when everything was
settled, James asked something of her, although there was no suggestion of any
quid pro quo.
“Could we make love one last time?”
She was reluctant, she had
already decided that she would curb her appetites and give, whatever feelings,
or the glimmer of feelings, she had for Jonathon Hardman every possible chance
to mature.
“When Amanda was alive and we
did it, I felt guilty, I felt it was a betrayal”
He went on
“Now I am alone and I could
enjoy you guilt free”
“Ok” Freya said as she stood
up and took his hand.
Freya led him upstairs to the
bedroom where she had nursed Amada.
As soon as they got in the
room Freya kicked off her shoes and then steered James to the bed and began
undoing his trousers.
After undoing the belt and
releasing the button she yanked down the zip and his trousers which descended
quickly to his ankles.
Freya then grabbed the
waistband of his pants and removed their contents.
She sank to her knees and her
mouth engulfed his organ
"oh Freya” he said in
blissful enjoyment.
However after a minute or so
and before he reached the point of no return he withdrew from her mouth and
pulled her to her feet.
He kicked his pants and
trousers away and pulled his shirt off over his head.
“Now it’s your turn” he said
and he gleefully removed every item until the five foot nothing, whippet thin nymph
with the strawberry blonde hair was completely naked.
The pale skinned topography
of pink flushed flesh interrupted by a neat ginger triangle
“Now get on the bed,” she
ordered and in response James kissed her moistly on the mouth which was quickly
curtailed
“I said get on the bed” she reiterated, “I’m
the expert remember, so get on the bed”
He obliged and climbed on the
bed and lay in the middle on his back
“And take your socks off” she
added a request to which he complied
Freya then climbed on the bed
and then on him and with practised expertise impaled herself on him like a
piece of meat on a skewer and out of gratitude she rode him until they both
reached a satisfying guilt free crescendo.
Afterwards as he watched
Freya redressing, he let out a low sigh of contentment.
A week later the Sunday News
ran a story on the front page headlined “Scandalous Neglect at Carrington
Chase”
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