Consequences Unforeseen

Hong Kong June 15th 1991, 3.30am... Ghosts

Hong Kong June 15th 1991,  3.30am….. Ghosts.

For a minute he thought he was back in Tokyo with Kris. He was making love slowly and gently but with mounting intensity. The mouth beneath his was warm, moist and aggressive.

 He opened his eyes and looked down into the half shut blue eyes and steady gaze of Heather Doyle. The pale yellow lights of South Baffin Street shimmied through the summer curtains the familiar sounds of street traffic touched his subconscious, but the voice in his head screamed out “You’re dead…. You’re gone….This cannot be happening!”

In momentary shock, he tried to push away and pull out of her, but she wrapped her legs around his buttocks and held him in tight refusing him any release and drove herself harder into him, taking over all momentum.

He pushed down on the bed with his forearms and raised his head away some more and the face beneath him morphed into that of Monica Kirkside. The sarcastic half smile on the mouth undeniable, even in the half light of the Hilton Hotel Washington. The eyes, a darker blue and the breasts unmistakable with her nipples hard and pressing into him. Her muscled and even stronger legs holding him solidly to her core.

Too much for his mind to handle, he felt the sweat running down his forehead and back and creating a river down his chest between the two of them.

Pleasure was coursing through him and a rough growl was beginning from deep in his chest as the face altered again into that of Shona Richards. The movements changed again with her more aggressive thrusting and grinding of her pubis selfishly into him. Beirut was warm in the early hours and the open window did nothing to keep the humid air at bay.

“Christ sake,” he thought. “What the fuck is going on here?” But he was definitely lost in it and there was nothing he could do to stop himself and withdraw or even try to. She was clenching him so tightly he had no chance to disengage

Moving in the inevitable rhythm of sex. Not subtle now or even careful, the girl beneath him changed again to the beautiful face and younger body of Lizzy Doyle. She laughed and grinned as she drove up and into him as if she was determined to have the final say in the matter. Just like 1299. She pulled on his shoulders wrestling him over and forcing him onto his back. The scent of the stable assaulted him as she rode on him with total control

Completely helpless, just like centuries ago, he looked up at her body as it moved on him. She was close to climax with her hands cupping her breasts and her head thrown back. She started to scream in obvious ecstasy and as she did so opened her eyes and looked down at him again.

Now as recognition dawned on him, it was he who screamed, but not in sexual fulfillment: He screamed the scream of a terrified man. Straddling him and pushing into him for satisfaction was Lynda Smith. Little Rosa was rocking with her motions and the memories of the horrors of that night were smashing through his brain. “What the fuck am I doing? Was all he thought as his screams intensified…

It was the scream that finally woke him. He was soaked in sweat and lying flat on his back with the bedcovers scattered and thrown aside.

The silence was deafening and the cold draft of the air conditioning wafted over him, causing a shiver to course through him and as he raised himself on his elbows to grab a cover, he found himself looking across the room of the Hilton Hotel into the mischievous but now bruised black and blue eyes of Robin. She shook her head from side to side and pointed at his groin.

She hadn’t bothered to dress since he saw her last and as she rose from the chair and moved to the door, she looked back over her shoulder. Mischief in her gaze.

“My God,” she said. “Now I know why women find you pleasing: Because it is certainly not your gentlemanly charm.”

The door clicked as she left and pulled it shut. He realized that his erection was prominent and unashamed. “Fucking Hell,” he thought. “What in God’s name has just happened here?” He could’ve cared less about Robin’s voyeuristic tendencies, but one thought hit him like a solid slap to his face. All these women over all these years and centuries had one thing in common - that damned freckle right on their pubic mound. Then another more soul shattering memory chilled him. He had never had intimate contact with Lynda Smith… that he could consciously recall.

He shivered and thought “Fuck me, I’ve been away from Kris way too long. It’s getting’ to me!”

Never outside of his puberty years had he ever had such a real and intense wet dream. It bothered him that he could still feel the sensations on him and see that at least one part of his anatomy had taken it seriously.

His Uncle John whispered in his head without sympathy, “Ye’ve got a thousand years o’ stuff in that head o’ yours, an’ this Robin girlie wi’ her likin’ fur bein’ naked has got yer horn up,” he growled.

He continued, “Git some sleep and this time think only o’ Kris for fuck’s sake. Hard day comin’ oor way this mornin’ an ye need yer wits aboot ye!”

Douglas was still wiping the sweat off himself and retorted, “Fuck off. Its easy fur ye. Ye cannie feel them all in yer heid. It’s no just the women – it’s even Kris.” He paused shaking his head to clear the ghosts away.

He continued, “She’s no even a Doyle but I feel like I’ve been wi her before an all!.. An’ whit’s more so does she.”

His Uncle just snorted in response, “Well laddie, at least she’s still here on this planet and no jist in yer heid like I am and the others. So do yer job and let this Robin lassie keep her safe fur ye. There’s enemies gathering and ye’ll need awe the help ye can git!

Bill looked around the room and the grabbed the comforter and sheets from the floor. He was chilled now, but strange for him, he was unsettled.

What messages were there for him in all of this? Why now did all these girls come back to him? What connected them to this new girl Robin and why did her sheer “Australian character” and mannerisms unsettle him and bring all this shit back from the past?

They had scared him, yes even him,by allocating a skilled operative to protect Kris. It meant only one thing, he thought,  – and that is that they feel this whole thing could go tits up in a heartbeat.

This last reflection kept him awake the rest of the night, or so he thought. The bottle of Evian poured over his head two hours later bringing him instantly awake proved that even troubled souls could sleep.

“Get your fat arse and dick up and out bed. Tired from all the activity are you? Brookhall is downstairs, and called three times already.” Robin cocked her head to one side and continued, “I’m not being a nuisance am I.”

Bill Douglas simply gave in, got up and without a backward glance went to take a piss followed by a shower.. he didn’t give her the satisfaction of a single word in response.

Brookhall was waiting…

To be continued - soon