The TGI Chronicles: Part 2 - Dave's StoryChapter 5 free porn video

It was just one o'clock when I woke from having just dropped off to sleep. There was some one hammering at my front door. Who the Hell... ?

I opened it to see a slightly tipsy Davinia standing on my door step. She flung her arms around my neck. "I'm sorry, Dave. I think I got it wrong. Can I come in?"

"Of course you can. I'll put the kettle on, I think you need some coffee."

She wandered off towards my living room, whilst I went into the kitchen. Having made a couple of mugs of coffee, I took them into the living room, and passed her one.

"Am I forgiven then?" I asked.

"I'm not sure that there is anything to forgive. I got it wrong. I don't like you having all those films, but the ones I really don't like are probably not the ones you think I won't like."

I took a sip of coffee, it was too hot, "Why don't you start at the beginning, and tell me what happened this evening. Who was there?"

"Well, Beth and Alice, there was a friend of Beth's called Dani or Denny or something. She was the most puritanical of the lot of us, but I'll come to that. Then there was a girl called Carol who I think was from Beth's work, and Mrs Charlie Bullard! She was old enough to be my mother, and she's the wife of one of our senior bosses. It was a bit odd, watching dirty films and drinking wine and eating pizza with someone like her."

"Her name's Rose, isn't it? I've only met her at company do's, but I think Beth and Tim are quite in with the Bullards."

"Yes, well actually she was the most down to earth and unphased by anything of all of us. At one point we were watching a scene of a man licking out a girl's pussy, making a real meal of it he was, when she says, 'I've been with Charlie for thirty years, and I still haven't trained him to do that good a job.' It was sort of surreal. She suggested that she should borrow it as a training film for Charlie"

"Well?"

"Well, to be honest, the films weren't as bad as I thought they might be. Actually, Carol made us all admit that some of them really turned us on in parts. But I still don't like them all. We only sort of loaded them up and flicked through them, we didn't see any film right through, there were just too many." She looked at me pointedly, but her eyes weren't too violet.

I waited, and she continued, "When we got to a lesbian scene, Denny or Dani got upset and said it was totally unnatural that heterosexual women as these were, would take satisfaction in each other. And later on when we tried one of what we assumed would be a stronger film, Angela in the Dungeon?..."

I nodded, "Angela Visits the Dungeon." I corrected and confirmed

"Well, anyway. She insisted that she went and made coffee while we played that one. She didn't need to see that sort of thing! Actually, that was one of the films that was a bit of a surprise. Of course the film included whipping, you know that. And that scene where he put a needle through her nipple was a bit gross. But the man, the master I suppose you would call him, was always so gentle and careful for the safety of the girl. I guess it was simulated in parts, I don't know. But it was always consensual as far as we could see, and the master did really seem to care for the girl."

"But... ?" I asked

"But, nothing on that one. I mean you're not going to whip me, that just isn't going to happen, so don't even bother to waste your dreams fantasising about it. You don't do you?"

"No. What I like about that film, beyond the fact that the girl has a certain sexy something, is the way she gives herself to the man. She is totally open and giving. That's what I find sexy. I really don't care about what they get up to."

"Oh. Anyway, what I really don't like, and a lot of the girls were with me on this, is the other films. Ones where the actual sex might be fairly OK, but the men just treat those women as pieces of meat. They're so ugly in their words and their attitudes to the women. That's horrible. Alice really seemed quite upset about this, she wasn't the least bit worried about any of the sex as such, but she sounded really bitter about the harshness of the men's attitudes to the women. Haven't you ever noticed just how unloving and lacking in respect those men are?"

"I guess they are. I hadn't really thought about that aspect of it."

"Well, that's what I've got to say, except I have an idea."

"Go on."

"Well, I really don't like you having so many of these things. Rose suggested that I tell you which half a dozen or a dozen films have to be thrown away. I quite liked that idea, but as we talked some more, I decided on another approach. If you want me back Dave, then I want you to throw away every film that you aren't happy to sit down and watch with me. I've told you a little about what I found acceptable. Now it's up to you."

"Can't you give me more of a clue as to which ones have to go?"

"No. If you're halfway the decent guy I think you are, then you'll know. And anyway, I haven't seen them all, and as I said, I haven't watched any of them right through."

"I do want you back, Dav. I don't know where we're going, but I want it to last longer than this."

"So, do we have a deal? It's for your own good as well as mine. Keep the ones that really hit your fantasies, but make sure they are ones that you can share with me. If you can't do that, then I'd rather we were over and finished now rather than go on to a more painful parting later on. I've done the painful parting bit quite recently, and it isn't much fun."

"Oh, we have a deal. I can understand that. When do you want to check what I've kept?"

"As soon as possible. I do want to be over this Dave. I don't know either where we're going. But I was rather enjoying getting there."

"Can we kiss to seal the deal?"

"Yes, but only a kiss. I've got to get home to bed. I got all the way home just now and turned round at the gate to come here instead."

So we kissed. A little tentatively to start with. But the second one had more passion in it, and by the fourth one we seemed to be back on track. Then she broke away. "When you've sorted out your video's."

"Where are they, by the way?"

"Still back at Beth's. Tim got back just as we were packing up. He seemed rather keen to return them to you himself, later."

"I bet he did. Dirty old bugger."

"Remember he's your boss."

And with that and one more, no three more kisses, she was gone.

I went back to bed feeling a hundred times happier.

The next morning I came into my desk and logged onto my email. The first one was from Tim, 'Have you seen Davinia yet?'

I quickly replied, 'Yes, last night, or this morning in the early hours to be accurate. I think we might be back on track. But I need the films, and I understand you're holding those.'

No sooner had I sent it than I received, 'Yes, I must give them back to you some time.'

'As soon as possible. And I don't want the covers stuck together. My future sex life depends on me sorting them out.' I typed and sent.

'Well, I've got them here. I must sort them out some time in the next 2 or 3 days. Is Monday any good to you?' Pinged into my mail box.

The bastard! He was sitting up there at his desk playing with me. I headed for his office, walking straight passed Davinia without a word.

He was standing at his desk with my holdall in front of him, beaming happily, and staring at his watch. "That's five seconds longer than I was expecting from your desk. You really should go to the gym more often, Dave." He smiled sweetly as I took the bag.

But then I relaxed. "You bastard! Tell Beth I owe her, really do thank her for me. She's a wise woman you've got there. And I suppose I should thank you. But you're still a bastard." I smiled

"Anything to keep a happy office. And being a bastard is a boss's privilege. Now get back to work, and stop wandering around the office with dirty films, you pervert." he smiled.

I didn't go to the pub that Friday, which was a rarity for me. Actually, I saw Davinia head that way with a bunch of the others, and I thought it would be a bit embarrassing to be there without us being together. So I went home to start watching and sorting the films.

God! Thirty one DVD's is a hell of a lot of viewing. It takes forever. I was just loading them up and watching them enough to understand the full context and attitude in each scene before I moved on, but it still took forever. I broke off to get myself something to eat and to open a bottle of decent beer. But, other than for that, I did nothing but watch sex scenes from about seven o'clock right through to one o'clock the next morning. And I still wasn't finished.

I got up at seven o'clock on Saturday and went on with my task. Eventually, at about eleven thirty I finished. I made myself a decent cup of coffee and sat down to check the final piles. I had rejected fourteen films, and was keeping seventeen. Then I looked again at the ones I was keeping, and there were three in there that I actually didn't like. I noticed a couple of films that I knew I hadn't watched in at least two years, so I threw them out as well.

I also realised that I'd found a couple of old favourites that I simply hadn't watched for ages. As they had passed the Davinia Test, I looked forward to watching them again sometime, possibly on the bedroom TV, with Davinia in the bed with me. I wonder if I can push her that far? It's a long way to come from total rejection out of hand, to using them as the basis of a bit of bedtime fun.

I phoned Davinia, "Hi, it's me."

"How's it going?" she asked.

"It's gone, so to speak. I've been through them all, and thrown out all those that I think are unfit for you to see. And you were right, a lot of the films don't seem to have any respect for the women, although the women are giving absolutely everything."

"So, why did you like them? No, don't answer that, I'd like to hear you tell me that when we meet."

"Well, how about I tell you that at seven thirty this evening in Not Steinbeck's. Please?"

"I'd love to. Really, Dave, I haven't enjoyed these last few days. Let's put it behind us, if we can."

"I'd like that too, Dav. I'll see you at seven thirty then. Bye."

I went into town and did some shopping. I bought myself a new shirt and trousers, which I thought I would wear for the evening. And I made sure I bought a really good loaf, one that would toast really well and go with my best marmalade, just in case. And I went into work to use the big shredder in the photocopy room to get rid of the rejected DVD's.

I got to Not Steinbeck's five minutes early, ordered a good bottle of white wine, and found a private table in a little alcove. The waitress brought over the wine, and I knew that I knew her. "Hello, Dave. How are you doing these days?"

"Oh! Fine. How are you? Been working here long?" Oh God, who the hell is she, and have I screwed her? And how do I get rid of her? I certainly don't want to be talking to some old ship that passed in some night long ago when Davinia gets here.

"No, I'm only doing it for a couple of months. After I gave up Uni, I'm just working to get myself enough money to travel this summer. Then I start my new course in October. Maddy's hoping she can come on at least part of my trip."

A friend of Maddy's! Of course, now I remember her. I think her names Gemma, or Jemima or something. I remember thinking she wouldn't be a bad catch at some time. But looking at her now, no, she's a bit young. "Well, I hope it work's out for you. Just leave the glasses and wine, I'll pour when my guest turns up."

"New conquest, eh, Dave? You've chosen a nice private table." She leaned over me and whispered, "Good luck."

Five minutes later, Davinia arrived. We kissed, chastely. And then she sat down opposite me, and I poured the wine.

I looked at her, her eyes were sort of mid-blue, not light and sparkling, but not dark violet either. "How were last night's drinks?"

"Everyone was asking me where you were. I just said I guessed you were busy."

I would have rather she had been a bit more positive, I bet she set some gossips thinking, "And they were happy with that. I bet you set some tongues wagging."

"Well, a couple of people did sort of ask if anything was wrong, or floated open ended questions in front of me. Drew asked what I was doing at the weekend."

I bet he bloody did! I'm really getting fed up with Drew circling around like some vulture waiting for me to make a deadly mistake. But I'm not sure what I can do about it.

I changed subject, "I've got rid of all the bad films. And you were right, in a lot of them the language and the atmosphere was cold and abusive to the girls. I hadn't really noticed before."

"Well done, and thank you. I've missed you."

"I've missed you." I put my hand out to hers and gave it a squeeze.

We sat and sipped our wine in silence, then she spoke, "You know I felt so empty when I left the Black Swan on Wednesday evening. I knew I'd been a bit over the top. I got halfway home and I turned round to come back, hoping I'd find you there. And then, just as I came round the corner, I saw Tim and Beth go in. I thought, well they're sure to talk to you, if you were still there, and I didn't think we needed them if I came back, so I did go home then."

"You mean I needn't have got rid of all those films, I've made myself bug eyed in the last forty-eight hours going through them all."

"Well, I don't know. I really didn't like them just there in your room. But, because of Beth's little party, I think I got a better handle on my feelings and what I wanted you to do. It wasn't so bad was it?"

"I guess not." I looked across the table at her and smiled. I'll swear her eyes got two shades lighter as I did so.

"Anyway, have you got a tired right hand from all those films?"

"What do you mean, young lady! No, I haven't!"

"Bit of a waste of money then, weren't they?"

"Actually, I didn't watch them like that. That wasn't my frame of mind, I was watching them analytically. I didn't get turned on once, even when I saw scenes that I thought could turn me on if I watched them that way. Odd really."

"Well, what are we going to do then?"

"Fancy eating? They do a good chilli here."

And that's what we did, we didn't choose chilli, but we ate at Not Steinbeck's. And then we strolled back to my place, but the long way round along the river. And it was bloody cold, the March wind was whistling down the valley. But that meant she had to cuddle in for warmth. And then we got back to my place and I made two big steaming mugs of hot chocolate, from really good bars of high cocoa chocolate in milk and with extra cream, and we sat in bed and drank them.

On the Sunday morning, over the excellent toast and marmalade, I asked what she would like to do for the day. She thought about it for a minute, before she answered, "Well, I guess we shouldn't spend all day in bed. How about a picnic at the beach?"

"You can't be serious! It'll be freezing. But I guess we'd have the beach to ourselves. You're not serious, are you?"

"Yes. Why not? We can dress up warm, and go for a walk along a beach. Huddle together for a bite to eat, and then go on and find a pub with a roaring log fire. I'd like that. I think I've just sold it to myself." She looked at me with those big eyes. I didn't stand a chance.

I thought about how to create a winter picnic. "I think I'll have to check the freezer to see what I can do about something to eat. I'll probably have to go over to the supermarket for something, but I'll do my best to keep it to my usual standard."

"That's OK. I'll have to go home and get some suitable clothes."

"Yes, you'll need your swimsuit. I hope it's a little g-string bikini."

"You can't be serious! I think that was your phrase."

I picked her up at her place, and we drove down to the coast. We found that deserted beach. And I was right, it was freezing. But we walked and talked, and found a sheltered place in the sand dunes where we set up for lunch. I'd brought my camping stove, and I cooked. Some hot, homemade tomato soup that I'd made at the end of last summer when tomatoes were cheap and full flavoured. And then I cooked some good pork sausages from the butcher in Chillington, the best I knew. "You know this is costing me, here I am frying the finest sausages I know on a freezing beach on a camp stove. Not quite what I intended for them when I bought them."

"I'm sure they'll be delicious. You really are into good foods, aren't you, Dave."

And we talked about food and eating. She really had no idea, but she listened and learnt. I think she really was interested. She said she liked the sausages anyway.

After lunch we walked some more. We talked a lot more. As always, I found it so easy to talk to Davinia. About anything, about everything, about nothing. And, at the end of the afternoon, we found that pub with the roaring log fire. And they did good steaks, and excellent beer. And we stayed there until about eight o'clock when we drove home. We went to bed and made love. Soft, gentle, caring for each other, love. And then we had showers, a mug of coffee, and she dressed and I walked her home.

On the Monday morning, I took her a cup of coffee at her desk. And we were chatting as if we'd never had an argument, when Tim came through. He stopped and looked at us, "It looks as if everything is right with you two."

"Yes" said Davinia, before I could say a word. And she was smiling.

"Good," said Tim, "so perhaps we can get some work done." And he went into his office.

I grimaced at Davinia and went back to my desk.

Later, I phoned her, to see if we had a date for this evening. But, she said she was going to have to do some sewing for the play. Apparently they were getting a bit worried that they wouldn't be ready in time.

So, after work I went to the gym. Both Tim and Drew were there, which meant we all ended up in the Black Swan afterwards.

Drew volunteered to buy the first round, leaving Tim and myself at a window table, "Now it's my turn" said Tim looking at me, "Why aren't you scurrying home to your new found love?"

"Because she's sitting sewing regency costumes for Mr Sheridan's little epic. What about you."

"Nothing, I fancied a drink, that's all." he replied.

"Has that got anything to do with the mood you were in this morning?" I asked.

"Was I? I'm sorry. Neil was buggering me around. I wasn't happy about this Development Forum idea, and I told him. He didn't even try to explain, he just very strongly implied that we, you and I, would give it our full support and our full participation. He just pissed me off a bit, but I got over it."

Then Drew returned with our drinks, and we fell to silence as we all took long draughts. Tim put his glass down and looked at Drew, "Are you coming to this Race Day on Sunday?"

"I was thinking of it. We're trying to get a group of us who are all bachelors to come as a group. I guess I can count you two out of that category."

"Well, speaking personally, I think it might take a bit of explaining to Beth if I included myself in. And I can guess you can keep lover boy here out of it... probably. Sunday's what? Six days away. With him, anything can happen. Six days is a whole affair for him."

I smiled, "I think myself and Dav can last that long. Even a bit longer than that, maybe." I noticed Drew was listening, but said nothing.

We fell to silence again, until Tim spoke up again, "I think I'll take the Bentley, it's the sort of car you need to go to the races."

Drew and myself looked at each other, "I thought I'd just go in the boring old Ferrari. You know, there's no point in being flash, is there. How about you Drew?"

"Well, I would use the Maserati, but my super-model girlfriend may be using it that day. I'll make my decision when I see my chauffeur after breakfast on the day."

We turned back to Tim, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

And he explained how he had inherited a vintage Bentley, that now sits in the garage under his apartment. I don't know why, maybe because I know him so well, but I didn't quite believe the story, it didn't quite ring true. Then I remembered something, not that I could see how it related, "Didn't that next door neighbour of yours have an old Bentley?"

"Yes, he did." Tim was glancing at Drew and then back to me.

I recognised the signs, "Anyone fancy Round Two?" I stood up with my empty glass.

"Not for me, thanks Dave. I will owe you one, Drew. But I think I'll get back now." Tim said, and he stood up and left, patting my shoulder as he went.

"Well, that leaves you and me, Drew. How about you?"

Drew looked slightly uncomfortable, "No, thanks, Dave. I think I'll leave it as well, if you don't mind?"

"No. No. No obligation. I'm sure there will be other nights. Don't worry, if you've got somewhere where you've got to be. See you in the office tomorrow."

I bought myself another pint, and sat there wondering how Tim came to have his wife's ex-lover's Bentley, and why Drew didn't fancy drinking with me. Not that either issue worried me, I was feeling good.

The rest of the week passed smoothly. Drew came to see me once about the project manager's job, but I dodged that by telling him that I was waiting for Personnel to announce a new procedure for transfers and promotions, which was now imminent. The transfers bit was true.

Davinia saw me as much as her Regency Player's commitments would allow, not that that was much. But she stayed over on Tuesday night, and on Thursday and Friday nights. So I wasn't complaining, we really were beginning to be very comfortable in each other's company.

On Wednesday evening Lucy phoned me to tell me that Pete wasn't coming home as expected, in just over a week, but that he'd put it off for a week. I wasn't really that interested, but I hoped it would work out for her. I hoped that this Pete would be decent about it, go off to Edinburgh and live happily ever after with whoever he's got up there, and leave Lucy to get on with her life down here. She deserved a happier life and a chance to start again

The Friday night's drinks went smoothly. Davinia spent a lot of it standing at my side, with her hand around my waist. How's that for PDA'ing? It was a pity Drew wasn't there, apparently he had somewhere else to go.

On the Saturday, Davinia spent most of it at Regency Players, but I insisted that she would come out with me in the evening. I think she felt a little bit guilty, but I like to think it was just that she wanted to spend some time with me, but she accepted and we agreed the time for me to pick her up.

We went to the theatre, to see Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman. I'd never seen it before, and I loved it. And then afterwards, we found this nice Thai restaurant near the theatre, and had a wonderful meal. And we talked and we laughed and everything was wonderful. And then we went back to my place.

Sunday was the TGI Race Day, and we were under orders to be at the Dewbury Race Course at eleven o'clock. We got there and parked two cars away from this huge black vintage Bentley. So Tim and Beth had arrived. There were three or four other couples around it, talking to Tim. Beth stood on one side just waiting. Then Alice arrived, by herself. She went straight to Beth and greeted her. Myself and Davinia wandered over, and there were greetings all round. Then I looked at the car, as were most of the guys, but only a few of the girls, most of the women just stood at the back, near a rear passenger door. I joined them to chat, and Tim came across.

"What do you think of it Dave?"

"Very nice. Not exactly my cup of tea, but I admit it has style. It looks in great condition." I opened the rear door to look inside. The rear passenger compartment was immaculate, the leather shining as if it was brand new, except for two odd scuff marks on the rear of the front seats. I stopped to look at them more closely, they were nothing serious, a little renovating leather polish would probably remove them, "They're odd." I said to Tim, pointing them out.

Alice looked in at them, as I said "I wonder what caused them. Have you been carrying anything big in here Tim?"

"They look like the scuff marks that a woman's high heeled shoe would make," said Alice, "Don't they, Beth?"

Beth giggled and pulled Alice out, Tim sort of flushed slightly. Alice had obviously hit on it. How come she can spot the marks of back seat passion when I don't? I pride myself on that sort of thing, I've had enough practice.

Other than that, the Race Day went off without a hitch. It was full of polite conversation with other men's wives, but with enough wine poured, slowly the atmosphere softened to more of a party. Alice dragged me over to be introduced to a few people, introducing me as the 'new star' of our insurance development team.

Greg Dickens of ITP was there, by himself as far as I could see. He looks as if he'd been ill, he had lost a lot of weight, and looked rather drawn. Late in the afternoon, I saw Tim lead him off to another bar, open to the public, rather than the one in the executive entertainment suite. That left me with Beth as well as Davinia as company. But that gave me a chance to thank Beth for arranging her hen party and helping to get myself and Davinia back together. What was nice was that Davinia gave me a squeeze and added her thanks to Beth. Beth responded by inviting us to dinner on the following Saturday, our first invite as a couple, which was rather nice.

At the end of the afternoon, myself and Davinia stopped at the King's Head on the Sheepen road, as did quite a number of other TGI'ers. Some seemed to be drunk already, others seemed intent to get themselves into that state as soon as possible. So, as I was driving, I suggested to Davinia that we just went home, which we did.

As we went into my living room she went over to my DVD and CD collection, probably to check that I had really thrown away a load of my porn collection. But she went through them and chose one of them, "How about we watch this?" she asked.

"I'd rather we just went to bed and practiced the real thing."

And we did. It was pretty vanilla, just fucking in missionary position, after a certain amount of foreplay. But it was great. I truly felt that we were back together for the foreseeable future.

Afterwards, she asked if I was hungry, and I miss understood her completely, answering by working my way up her legs from her toes. She realised the misunderstanding, just before I started it lick her out, for which I was grateful. I'm not a great one for licking out a woman afterwards, but I thought it was what she wanted. She had really meant to ask whether I needed some food? Well, yes, I did. So we showered, which was happy fun in the bathroom, but no fucking in the shower this time. And then we went out to find somewhere to eat.

We ended up back at Not Steinbeck's, which was OK. We chatted happily, and then she implied that she was going home that night, which disappointed me. She explained that she hadn't any clothes for the office in the morning.

"We could solve that. There's plenty of room in the wardrobes in my room. And I can always make more space if you want."

"Are you suggesting that I should move in? Us, together?" she asked, her eyes darkening.

"Well, I wondered. I wouldn't mind. How about you?"

"I wouldn't mind! You're so romantic, Dave. How could I ever resist."

"I'm sorry. That wasn't very well put. I think I really would like you to move in, Dav. I think we could have some fun living together. How about it?"

She sipped her wine, her eyes not lightening. I watched her carefully. Eventually she looked up at me, "No. Not yet. I'm not ready. I don't know whether that's you, or whether I'm still not over Tod, not deep down. I'm sorry, Dave."

I looked away, and sat there just thinking, or just feeling. Then I turned back, but looked at my glass rather than at her, "What don't you know about whether it's me or not? I thought we were getting somewhere."

Her hand went out to mine across the table, "I don't know. I just don't know. I think I have some difficulty trying to separate the image of the playboy Dave Finch that the girls at work talk about, and the man I've been sleeping with. Or maybe it's just too soon over Tod."

I just sat in silence. Logic told me she was being fair, but I didn't feel mollified.

Her other hand came across the table to find my other hand, "Oh! Dave. Tod is the only real comparison that I can go by. And I don't feel the passion I felt for him at the beginning. I know that. But you are a far kinder, more considerate, gentler man than he ever was. I do like that in you. Look, don't you think we've got a good thing going as we are? I'll stay over some nights, and go home some nights. I rather like this halfway house sort of arrangement. Just give me time. Please Dave, just some more time."

There was nothing I could say. I picked up her hands and brought them to my mouth and gently kissed them. "Of course, we've got all the time you need."