Worship Me Part 8
By Muscle Fan, covert.1@hotmail.com



Note: Reader's suggestions for story lines or comments about characters or
content are always welcomed. Please email to the address above.

Chapter 20

We flew to England, first class. John and Gwen sat together with me in a seat
directly behind. While the trip was long, it gave me the chance to read. Gwen
had given me some corporate information about the man we were meeting in
London. She also gave me similar material for John's company. By the time we
landed, I had a good idea about who Tony Sinclair was.

The three of us got through customs with no problem, and a car picked us up at
the airport from the hotel. I was pleased to see it was a Rolls Royce. Since
we were in London for only two days, we were traveling light with one bag
apiece. The hotel was fabulous and we were shown to our suite. Gwen explained
that because of the last minute reservations they only had the two-room suite
available, and that she and I would have to share a bedroom.

We ordered room service and because of the early appointment tomorrow, and
suffering from a little jet lag, we all decided to turn in early. I would have
to postpone any sightseeing for a later visit.

I let Gwen shower first, watching CNN as I waited for her to come out of the
bathroom. She emerged wearing one of the hotels' robes that were hung by the
door. I showered and came out with the towel wrapped around me, opting not to
use the robe. Gwen was propped on one of the beds reading.

"Where are you from, Gwen," I asked. "Jamaica," she said, "St. Ann's near
Montego Bay originally, but I'm an American citizen now." "Ever get back
there?" I asked, "Do you still have family there?" "I've been back twice since
I left," she said, "and yes, I still have a brother and a sister in Jamaica."
"Do you have a husband, boyfriend," I asked. "No and no," she said, "no
husband, no boyfriend, no time for one either."

"What about you, Jane, what's your story?" Gwen asked. "Not much to tell
really, I'm a native Californian," I explained, "I went to school with Emily,
was hired by her, but then recruited by John." "And how did you get into
bodybuilding," Gwen asked. "I'm not a bodybuilder, per se," I said, "just well
endowed and work hard at keeping my body fit. I like discipline." "And you,"
she asked, "husband or boyfriend?" "Like you, no and no, no husband or
boyfriend, no time."

"I hope you don't mind," I said, "but I sleep naked," and stood up and dropped
the towel on the end of the bed. Gwen's eyes widened. "Wow, Jane, you really
do have muscles," she said. "Do you like them, Gwen," I asked, and put one
foot up on her bed and flexed my thighs for her. The muscles danced under the
skin while I ran a hand along them. "You have a gorgeous body yourself, Gwen,"
I said. "Thank you, Jane. I try to watch what I eat and take care of myself.

Gwen stood and removed her robe. Her firm breasts and taut stomach turned me
on. "Gwen," I said, "come here and worship me, make love to me." Wordlessly
she came around the bed and we came together like two long lost lovers. We
kissed and I felt myself becoming aroused. I pulled her down on to my bed and
we locked legs, our clits grinding. We climaxed together and once separated, I
stared into her eyes. "That was fantastic," I said, "was it good for you?"
"That was the most intense climax I've ever had," Gwen told me, "man or
woman." I kissed her a long passionate kiss.

She massaged my muscles, her soft hands gliding over my skin. Soon I was
asleep. I woke in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, Gwen's arm
draped across my chest. I slid out from under her arm and used the bathroom.
Returning to the bedroom, I rolled Gwen on the side and 'spooned' with her,
dozing off again.

The alarm woke us. Gwen was as I had placed her last night, with her butt in
my lap, the two of us on our sides. She kissed me and slipped her tongue in my
mouth before disappearing into the bathroom, having not spoken a word. As she
came out, she said, "Better get a move on, Jane, we have a ten o'clock meeting
with Mr. Sinclair. "

I got up, stretched and put on a pair of cotton pants that were fairly snug.
"What do you think?" I asked Gwen. She glanced at me and smiled, "Perfect, no
one will be able to concentrate on business, myself included." I took her
seriously, dawning an off-white satin blouse and black blazer. Gwen looked
fantastic in a navy business suit, white blouse, her long black hair tied in a
ponytail with a matching white scarf.

She called room service and they brought breakfast up. The three of us met in
the sitting room of the suite. John, freshly showered and shaved looked well
rested. "How did you two sleep," he asked. "I slept well," Gwen said. "Same
here," I said. We ate, made small talk and got ready to go.

Chapter 21

Tony Sinclair's car was waiting for us downstairs. We rode in silence to the
meeting. Arriving at Mr. Sinclair's headquarters we were buzzed through
quickly and efficiently.

In Sinclair's board room Mr. Sinclair and his secretary, John, and Gwen, sat
at a long table. I stood by the door, not exactly sure what my function was in
the role of a bodyguard. Mr. Sinclair, all 5'-6" of him, didn't look like he
could win a fight against a gerbil let alone attack and overpower John.

The meeting lasted a little over two hours, and then we broke for lunch and
went to a nearby restaurant. Again the two chiefs; John and Tony sat at a
table with their aides while Mr. Sinclair's driver and I had a two person
table nearby. I had a sparkling water and an order of fish and chips, but only
picked at my food. The driver, Paul, had a meat pie of some sort with a pint
of ale and attacked it like he hadn't eaten in a week.

We must have been there for a half hour when a man who was sitting at a table
by the wall with a couple of friends seemed to be talking louder and louder. I
glanced several times in their direction and noticed several pint containers
on their table.

I heard the screech of a chair being pushed or pulled from a table and wish I
had been paying more attention, because by the time I realized what was going
on, the man from a few tables over was coming past me, a beer bottle in his
hand.

My reflexes are quick and fortunately my reach is long because I got a hand on
his collar just before he could take a swing at Mr. Sinclair. I spun the man
around, the smell of liquor on his breath, and with a hand on his chest,
pushed him backwards at which time he fell over a chair and landed on his
butt. "What the fuck are you doing," he yelled, "that son of a bitch sacked me
for no reason, and after fifteen years with the company, not so much as a
'thank you'." He grabbed his empty beer bottle as if to stand up and I put a
foot on his chest and pushed him back. "Look, mister," I said, "I know it's no
fun to get fired, but you can't just hit a man with a beer bottle because he
let you go." "Blimey, a woman, and a Yank at that," he said.

I reached down and grabbing him by the shirt front, hauled him to his feet and
walked him to the door. I opened it and pushed him into the street. As I
turned, the patrons cheered. I'm sure I blushed, but took my seat. The driver
that was sharing my table hadn't missed a beat with his lunch.

Mr. Sinclair came over and grasping me by the bicep, which his hand only
partially went around, said, "Thank you very much for taking care of that
rather awkward situation. I appreciate it." "That's OK, sir, it was nothing,"
I said.

Chapter 22

I needed to use the restroom before we left and all eyes followed me as I
walked to the back of the pub. I used the toilet and as I was standing in
front of the sink, a man came through the door. As he did so, he locked it
behind him. "What the hell do you want," I asked, "get out of here." "You're a
fine one to be giving orders," he said, "tossing me friend out on his ear. He
just wanted a word with that bastard, Sinclair." "With an empty beer bottle in
his hand," I asked, "your friend was fixing to hit Mr. Sinclair with it."
"That's your story, lady," he said, looking me up and down as he advanced on
me. "I'm going to give you a final warning, turn and leave while you still
can," I said.

His anger fueled by alcohol, he didn't heed my warning. He pushed my shoulder,
and said, "Or what, are you going to throw me out too?" "No," I said, as I
grabbed his forearm, "I'm going to break your arm," and I snapped it as if it
were a twig. He let out a cry of pain. "What's the matter, big man, am I too
much for you to handle," I asked, and with a left, jabbed him in the stomach.
He doubled over and I thought he might vomit. With a right, I gave him a round
house to his chin and he went down in a heap.

I quickly unbuckled his pants and slipped his shorts down, then picked him up
and sat him in one of the stalls on the toilet and closed the stall door
behind me. Unlocking the restroom door, I went back into the pub.

I leaned over Gwen's shoulder and whispered in her ear, "One of the would-be
attackers buddies came for me in the restroom. He's out cold, but there will
be a commotion in a few minutes," I said, "perhaps we should leave before the
police arrive."

Gwen leaned in close to John and relayed the message. He in turn spoke softly
to Mr. Sinclair and we all left.

Back at Mr. Sinclair's office, he apologized for the man at the pub. "Really,
that's not necessary," John said, "when it comes to disgruntled employees,
I've faced my share, that's why Jane's here, she keeps me safe." "She
certainly kept me safe," Tony said, and then turning to me said, "If you ever
want a job or a change of scenery, please look me up." "Thank you, sir," I
said.

Chapter 23

Our quick visit to England complete, we took a red eye out of Heathrow and
headed back to the states. John and Gwen dozed as I leafed through one of the
in-flight magazines. Most of the passenger's in first class were asleep. I got
up to use the lavatory. A flight attendant was in the adjacent galley. She was
tall, young and attractive.

As I came out, our eyes met and I thought, 'Worship me'. She licked her lips
and glancing into the cabin to make sure no one was watching, came to me. I
bent and whispered in her ear, "Get on your knees and kiss my clit." She
obediently complied, while I lifted my skirt. Grasping my thighs, she eagerly
went to work. I held the back of her head against my throbbing clit and
minutes later, I erupted with a spectacular orgasm that drenched her face.

She stood, my juice now dripping from her chin. I touched the droplets with my
tongue, then moving to her lips, kissed her full on the mouth, allowing my
tongue to explore the interior. As I did, I glanced in the cabin and noticed a
male passenger three rows back watching our display. He was jerking off under
a blanket.

With a dismissive, "Thank you, my pet," I broke our embrace and slowly walked
to man in the aisle seat. Crouching down on my heels before him, allowing him
a view up my skirt, I said, "Did you like our little display." "Ahh, yes," he
said.

The man was perhaps thirty. "Please, don't be embarrassed or afraid, I won't
bite, unless provoked," and laughed as I peeled the blanket back to reveal his
hard-on.

Taking his shaft in one hand, I kissed the head of his penis, then covered it
with my lips and then took the entire shaft into my mouth. His eight-inches
disappeared. As I withdrew it, I said, "Don't come until I command you to, do
you understand." "Yes, but I'm ready to explode," he said. "I'm sure you are,"
I said, "but do as I say or else I'll crush your balls, do you understand" He
only managed a nod. "Good," I whispered.

"Get up and go fuck the flight attendant," I said. He looked at me as if he
didn't hear me correctly. "You heard me," I said. "But what if ... " he began
to protest, and I grabbed him by the bicep, my fingers nearly encircling his
whole arm, and pulled him from his seat. Bending to his ear I again said, "Go
fuck the flight attendant," and gave him a bit of a shove toward the galley.

He shuffled up the aisle, holding his pants up with one hand. As he entered
the galley, the flight attendant looked first at his cock, then at the man and
then over his shoulder at me. "I brought you a present, my pet," I said to the
flight attendant, "service him."

Again she knelt and taking the man in her mouth began to rhythmically perform
fellatio. "Hold it," I whispered in his ear, "hold it." I allowed the flight
attendant to go on for a few more minutes then told the passenger, "OK, you
may come," and no sooner had the words left my lips than he gave a sigh of
relief.

"You did well," I said to them both as I went back to my seat. I slept the
rest of the way to Los Angeles.