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Dream Cottage

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2009-12-21

“The question you've got to ask yourself is. Do you really want Edward; or are you prepared to start over again? But make sure you're not making your choice out of spite or revenge. Because the second time around, things will be harder with two young children, and the chances of finding a good man won't get any easier. ”
“But even if I wanted to keep my marriage together, and I give him another chance; what's to say I can ever trust him again?”
“It comes with time. I know what he's done must hurt, but believe me; it isn't the end of the world, nor the end of your marriage. Unless you want it to be?”
“That's easy for you to say mum, but you were lucky when you picked dad. ”

There was a cold silence for a good couple of minutes while I thought. And then I decided to put my daughter's happiness before my own pride. I didn't tell her the whole truth, but what I did tell her was true, and it hurt to admit to my daughter that the father she loved and admired had once been a philanderer. I told her how I'd found out about my Jim's other women, and how I'd taken advice from two different sources. And in truth, even now, I'm not totally sure either of the things I was advised to do would have worked in isolation. But as my daughter had already got her own family of two wonderful little children, she'd already exhausted one of the pieces of advice I'd been given.

So I began to tell her about the second piece of advice, one given to me by a professional source. And although I can't say for sure if this would have worked in isolation from the advice of starting my own family and giving my husband a feeling of purpose and duty. I am sure; it was this professional advice that tipped the scales. The advice was simply to read and learn from a little Japanese sexual techniques book.

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   And in my own mind, the most powerful of the techniques it described was the art of controlling your pussy muscles with a little ‘Jade Egg'.

Once I'd explained to my daughter about my husband's infidelity, I then began to tell her about how I'd set about attempting to combat it, not with conflict, but by making his sex life with me, superior to the sex he was getting elsewhere. I got out my little box of tricks, and showed her how I could still lift a full basket of weights using the muscles in my pussy, and then I explained exactly how that helped with giving sexual gratification to your partner. I didn't tell her the whole story, that is to say; about my own infidelity. Or that the man she called her father wasn't. Or how I'd achieved my own family of two wonderful children, when my own husband was infertile. But here it is for you to read, and I hope you won't judge my conduct too harshly.

I guess my story started that day back in 1973, we were driving across the deserted moors; that is me and my new husband on our honeymoon,
“Oh Jim, wouldn't it be just perfect to live in that little cottage up there?”
“Be a bit bloody isolated. ”
“Oh yes. But just think of the views. And nobody else around to disturb you, and come to that, no worries about you disturbing any neighbours. ”
“You're not serious, are you?”
“Yes. Why? Wouldn't you like to live in a place like that?”

“I'm easy, but if that's what you want, if we can't buy that one, I'm sure we could find another one that is just as secluded. ”
“Do you mean it?”
“Why not, I mean it isn't as if money is a problem. But you do realise, it would only be a second home.

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   I can't work this far away from London. ”

So over the next six months, we talked our way through the idea of a place in the country, and within a year of me first mentioning the idea, we'd bought a country cottage. Not the one I'd seen, but one equally as far off the beaten track, and still in Yorkshire. (That's a county in the north of England, for any none UK readers)

My Jim had taken over his dads garment firm, and with his modern ideas about fashion, he'd designed and started producing clothes that were selling like 'hot cakes'. So as he'd said, money wasn't a problem, and as I didn't need to work, it gave me lots of time to spend in our country hideaway. It was idyllic, and by the time we'd owned it a year, I'd got the most wonderful country garden with flowers, shrubs, a vegetable plot and even fruit trees. It was like heaven on a summer's day, to just lie back in the hammock, which was tied between two trees in the orchard, and watch the clouds drifting over my head.

I guess all things have their drawbacks, but mine was of my own making. I mean I knew Jim had said he'd have to work in London. So when I went up to our cottage, I was mainly on my own. Which is nice in a way, but nights can get very lonely. So the weekends when Jim came up from London were the times I longed for. And he did make it most weekends.

So move on three and a half years from the date we'd moved in. I guess the one thing that wasn't right with my little world, was that my Jim had now been in London for six weeks solid.

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   The new line of clothes he'd designed were proving difficult to manufacture. Something to do with the material he'd chosen. So as Jim prides himself on the quality of his garments, and the delivery times he'd committed to, he was working every hour god sends, to make sure the order was right, and got out on time. But it'd been so long since we spent any quality time together; I'd made plans to go down to London that weekend just to be with him. But as I'd thought it would be a nice surprise for him, I hadn't phoned to let him know.

So Friday morning arrived, and I'd got on the train, arriving in London at around ten in the morning. I'd caught a taxi to our London home, and let myself in. I knew Jim wouldn't be there, but I wanted to prepare a surprise meal for him for when he arrived home. This had taken some planning, as I wouldn't have any idea what time he'd be working to, and I wanted the meal to be ready in as little time as possible after he'd walked in the door. So clutching my bags of ingredients, I made my way to the kitchen.

I'm not sure exactly when it hit me that something wasn't right. I guess I must have caught the aroma of an unfamiliar perfume as I'd first stepped into the hall. But it wasn't until I saw the breakfast washing-up littered on the kitchen work surface, that alarm bells began to ring in my head. I mean, yes Jim would leave the things to be washed-up and tidied away by our cleaning woman. But why would there be two cups, and two glasses.

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   And it wasn't like Jim to have muesli; especially as the other plate looked like it had been used for a full fried breakfast (that was Jim's usual morning meal). I put my bags down on the floor, and went into the lounge. Shoes! Ladies shoes! And they weren't mine. I looked around the room, and all of our wedding photos were missing, in fact, there wasn't one photo of me in the room.

I almost ran up the stairs, and the clothes around the bedroom floor were the clincher. Knickers, bra, blouse and skirt; and none of them mine. Then I heard a key in the front door. The blood rose to my face, and I was about to explode. But as I got to the top of the stairs, I could see it wasn't Jim, or his fancy woman. Well not unless he'd started to have an affair with our cleaning lady Mrs Lang. Not that there is any reason why I should write her off so flippantly. But she is around fifty, and I somehow couldn't imagine her getting into the frilly little knickers I'd found on my bedroom floor.

As she heard me, she looked up, and the embarrassment showed in the colouring up of her face. I went down to where she was waiting for me.
“So how long has this been going on?”
“Please Mrs Theabold, your husband told me if I ever breathed a word, I'd not only loose my job, but he'd also sack my Freddy.

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  ”
“Freddy, who is he, and what's he got to do with anything?”
“He's my son, and your husband gave him a job in his factory. I really didn't like what was going on, but I couldn't tell you. ”
“But I haven't seen you since the last time I was down in London over three months ago. ”
“I know. But he's been bringing different girls back here for over six months now. ”

“Different girls! The cheating bastard!”
“Well yes, I know it's not nice. But according to my Walter, he says it's not as serious as if he'd been just bringing back one woman. ”
“And how does he make that out?”
“Well he says, it's just a kind of comforter. But if it was one woman, it would mean she was a rival to you. But these are just like some men go out at night and find a street girl to relieve themselves with. I mean I'm not saying its right, but from what I can gather, these are girls from the works. ”
“So does he bring a girl back every night?”
“No, it's maybe two or three times a week. Sometimes, like a few weeks ago, he went over two weeks, without bringing back one girl. ”

I guessed that was the time he'd had the problem with the sewing-up of the garments. A problem he'd told me was still going on.

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   I felt so let down, and I just wanted to cry. I walked past Mrs Lang, and went into the lounge where I slumped down in a chair.
“You just sit there luv, I'll make us both a nice cup of tea. ”
Well by the time she'd returned with the tray with two cups, and a plate of biscuits, I was sitting with my head in my hands, sobbing.
“That's it luv, you have a good cry, get it out of your system. Here, have a sip of this. ”
We sat there for what must have been a good hour, and as she offered her words of wisdom, she gradually turned my head around. I'd started off feeling so let down, thinking I could never trust my Jim again.

But her matter of fact way of looking at sex and marriage gradually got me to accept that while what Jim was doing wasn't ideal, it was by no means the end of our marriage. She even got me to accept the idea that maybe; it was my fault to some extent. As she put it, ‘Men don't really have brains when it comes to sex'. She said if they haven't had sex in the last hour, then any female is likely to arouse their interest. And as I was living at the other end of the country, and leaving Jim alone without sex for over a week, then she said it wasn't surprising he'd felt the need to stray. Her advice was for me to move down to London, or start a family.

She said,
“Ok, giving him a son or daughter to drool over won't stop him playing around down here while you're up there looking after the family, but it will give him roots.

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   And even if he does play around, he'll be less likely to form any permanent attachments. ”
And then she said something that at first I didn't catch the meaning of,
“And anyway luv, this has now given you an excuse to get one of those country lads up there to plough your furrow. ”
“Plough my furrow? We've got a fair size garden, but not big enough to. ”
Then the penny dropped, and as I realised she was hinting I should do like Jim and start playing around. I found it very offensive.

“There is nobody up there; or for that matter anywhere else that I'd even look at. And I don't like your suggesting that kind of thing. ”
“Come on now, there's no point in trying to convince me. You can't tell me the men up there are any different to the ones down here. And even if country lads are slow witted, I'm sure at least some of them will have worked out that you spend a lot of time on your own. ”
“The men up there aren't slow witted. And the fact that I'm up there on my own so much, just makes them more protective of me. But nobody has ever made an improper suggestion. ”
“In that case, it's down to you. You've certainly got the body and looks.

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   I can only assume you're dressing down, and consciously or not, you must be snubbing all advances. But ‘what's sauce for the goose, is sauce for the gander'. So if he's not going short down here, you'd be silly to sit up there like a vestal virgin. ”

I gave her a black look as I said,
“When I took my marriage vows, I meant every word of my promise. ”
She shrugged her shoulders,
“You're living in a dream world my dear. Do you think for one second anyone takes that church mumbo-jumbo seriously? Love honour and obey. Love, yes maybe for the first few years. Honour, what in god's name does that mean? Obey! Are you kidding? There's no way I'd take orders from my old-man. ”
“But it was a solemn vow taken in church in front of a vicar. ”

“Shall I tell you about vicars and oaths? I know my wedding was a few years ago, and I know I'd had way too much to drink. And by the end of the reception I was putting it about a bit. Not serious stuff, just snogging with anything in trousers. Well at one point the vicar, the very same man who, a few hours earlier had been coaching me with the words; ‘keeping yourself for him, and forsaking all others'. This same man had backed me into the unlit cloakroom, and not content with just kissing, and a feel of my tits, I had to physically fight with him to keep his hand out of my knickers! And I'm sure if I'd let him have his way, he wouldn't have stopped there. Vows! Vicars! Church! It's all bullshit.

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   And that's being polite about it. ”

It all sounded more than a little cynical, but she did speak with a confidence, that came from experience. So gradually, I made my mind up to make my way back home, without confronting Jim. And I planned to start talking to him about the idea of children.

The next day, while I was sitting having breakfast, the phone rang, and it was Jim. He apologised for not being able to make it back home for the sixth weekend in a row, but promised that come hell or high water, he'd be up to see me next weekend. He ended as always by sending me his undying love. And for my part, I did the same to him. But I must admit, as I put the phone down, I said under my breath,
“You cheating bastard!”
Then I started to re-run all the things Mrs Lang had told me, and gradually I mellowed back into a state of submission. I decided, as I couldn't face living in London, and I knew Jim couldn't live up hear and work down there, I would have to put my hopes into the idea of family ties binding us together.

Sunday was always my church day and it was as I selected what to wear, that Mrs Lang's words came back to me. I realised at least part of her observations were true. I hadn't before consciously been aware, that I dressed differently to go to church alone, than when going with Jim. In fact, as I thought about the way I dress, I realised, that when ever Jim is away, I dress down; almost to the point of looking dowdy. I can only assume some subconscious safety mechanism must have kicked into action, to ward off unwanted advances.

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   Not that I dressed like a tart when I went out with Jim, but I usually kept up with the fashion; even if it required short skirts, or those see-through blouses. (Though not necessarily when going to church)

I thought to myself, why should I hide my charms; just because Jim isn't here. I mean, it's not as though I'd take-up any advances, even if my looks encouraged any. So I put back the dress I had taken out of the wardrobe, and found a pretty skirt and blouse. The skirt wasn't over short, and the blouse wasn't see-through. It was a real eye opener, I mean for me to see the different reaction it generated within the male church goes. And I guess I could almost describe their reaction the same way; it opened their eyes. Nothing untoward happened, but not only could I feel the eyes boring into my flesh, but it was amazing how many more men were waiting outside the church at the end of the service. Normally at least half the men are in the village pub within a minute of the end of service, leaving mostly the womenfolk to stand around catching up on the latest gossip. Bearing in mind, this is only a little village church, so there would only be a dozen men in there in total.

But today, as I walked out of the church, I was met by three of the local farmers asking about how my little vegetable garden had faired this year. Yes over the three years of living up here, I'd met each of these men on different occasions, local county fares and such; but never before on a Sunday after church, as these three were among the men who'd usually be straight down to the pub. There was nothing said by any of them that was out of place, but one of them did make me an offer of a free trailer-load of manure. Not what you'd class as being chatted-up. But overall today, there was definitely more interest in me than normal.

 

  

Then as the three farmers went on their way, the landlord of the village pub came and made inquiries about the purchasing of any surplus from either my vegetable plot or my fruit bushes. I thought its strange how they're all so interested in my garden produce all of a sudden. But in truth I knew it was probably just the only feeble excuse they could find to talk with me. I did negotiate the sale of raspberries and gooseberries, as I'd bottled and made as much and more jam than I could use, and the remainder would only have gone to waste. I arranged to deliver it to his pub the next day, thus thwarting his idea of him coming up to my cottage to collect it. Not that I didn't trust him to come up to the cottage whilst I was on my own. But I do know how village tongues can wag even when there is no real foundation for the rumours they are spreading.

A couple of men who I recognise from seeing them handle their dogs at the sheep-dog trials, sidled their way across, and their excuse was to offer me the chance of buying one of a litter of new dogs. And I have to admit I was sorely tempted, but I didn't want to just go ahead and make that kind of decision without talking to Jim first, so I declined their offer. Then as they left and I was about to make my way to my car, the vicar made a bee-line for me. Which was rather apt, as he keeps bees, and came over to discus an idea I'd had some weeks ago, about me having a go at doing the same.

So all in all, when I sat down in front of the fire that evening, I reflected on the different attitude I'd experienced, just by a change of clothes, a bit of make-up, and a different hair style. It made it clear to me, that if I should want to adopt Mrs Lang's philosophy, it wouldn't be difficult to get started.

On the Monday I got together the fruit, and off I went to deliver it to the village pub, thinking I'd also take the opportunity to collect a few groceries at the same time. But again, like yesterday, I decided to dress smart and put a bit of make-up on.

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   The woman in the village post office noticed straight away,
“Off somewhere nice are we?”
It took me by surprise, and for a moment I wondered what she meant,
“Sorry?”
“I was just wondering, are you off somewhere? You're all dressed up. ”
“Oh no. I wouldn't call this dressed up. I just didn't feel like wearing my old gardening clothes. ”
“And I don't blame you lass. ”

Then she gave me a sly wink,
“I'd heard your old man hadn't been home these last six weeks or more. While the cats away the mice will play. Eh. ”
“Where had you heard? And I'll have you know, there'll be no playing away. Cat or no cat. ”
“Don't take offence lass. It was just old Roy at the railway office; he said your husband hadn't made it back home in a while. I wasn't meaning anything by my remarks. ”
I turned around, and marched out without even paying for the book of stamps she'd just handed to me.

Next I visited the local butcher, and he was nice as pie, in fact, I've never seen him so friendly and chatty.

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   And all the time he was talking to me, young Garry, his assistant, a man who is about my age, was standing at the sausage making machine. Now I'm sure I must have seen him or someone else operating one of those machines before. But this time, I don't know whether it was my mood, his looks, or the way he was operating the machine. But what I do know is, as those sausage skins filled in his hand, and slid through his fingers, it set such a turmoil going in my tummy. I kept trying not to look, but every time I glanced out of the corner of my eye, he'd be staring at me. When I left there I was in such a state, and yet in truth, nothing had happened to cause such a condition.

After sitting in my car for fifteen minutes to calm myself down, I then went on to the grocers; a little shop; which sold just about everything. The narrow aisles, and so much stuff stacked everywhere; overcrowding is the norm in here. Not I hasten to add, overcrowding with people, when I went in, there was only one other lady in there. I wandered my way around with a little wire basket, and then as I rounded the bottom of one of the aisles, there was Mr Harper, the shop keeper. A man around forty'ish, small in build, but good looking. Now why did I notice that? I'd seen him a million times, and not once before has that thought crossed my mind.

Well anyway, he was making his way around towards the cool cabinet to get something for his other customer, which meant we'd need to pass each other. But as I'd said, this shop hasn't much room, so unless one of us had retraced our steps, it would require squeezing past with bodily contact. I can't remember, but I'm sure some time in the past, I must have done this in this very shop.

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   But now, it was as if everything went into slow motion. He stepped back, pressing himself backwards in between a stack of brushes, and a stand stacked with weed killer. It meant I was almost forced into moving into the space in front of him. Yes, I know I could have turned and gone back the other way, but that would almost have been an insult.

So my first decision was made, now what I had to decide was, do I pass him face to face, or turn my back towards him. I decided I'd smile politely and pass face to face. Once I had started to make my move to pass him, after a brief acknowledging glance, I had diverted my gaze to directly down the aisle in the direction I was heading. But it was a small gap to squeeze through, and even with my shoulder-blades up against the shelf behind me, I still felt my breasts gently rubbing against Mr Harper's chest. Now this was the sum total of the incident, and maybe, as far as he was concerned, nothing had happened. After all, he's in this little shop everyday, so I guess it's happened lots of times before.

But for me it just heaped coals onto the fire that had been ignited by young Garry as he'd worked on the sausage machine. I collected the few other groceries I needed, and waited until Mr Harper had served the customer he was dealing with. And once I'd paid for my things, which I did without further incident, I left and made my way to my final call for the day; the pub. Going into a pub on my own is not something I'd ever done before, so even this felt strange, and as all the customers in the bar (only about ten) were men, it was with their eyes staring at me, that I had to stand and wait until the barmaid had finished serving, and then she went to fetch the landlord. He took the boxes of fruit from me, and paid the agreed sum.

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   He also invited me to stop and have a drink while I was there, but I politely declined his offer, and went on my way.

Unbeknown to me, as I'd left, the talk in the bar had turned around to me. Surprisingly, started by the barmaid, a girl around my age,
“Well lads, it looks like miss frosty-pants has come in from the cold. ”
This comment was soon picked up by one of the bar-flies,
“It's the first time I've seen her tarted-up, without her husband. ”

Another man joined in,
"Tarted-up be buggered. Did you see her nipples?"
The landlord nodded a glance towards his barmaid,
"Now then John, ladies present. "
"Young Katie don't mind. Do you lass. "
"Course I don't. I'm just surprised any of you lot noticed. You don't normally get your eyes out of the sports page. "
Soon most of the men in the bar were swapping comments about me.

"Noticed; she almost poked my eyes out, they were sticking out so far. "
"To right, and unless it's our young Katie getting excited, I'd swear I caught a whiff of her fanny. "
Again the landlord snapped,
"That's enough of that kind of language Will.

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  "
Katie said,
"He's right though. Even I noticed it from this side of the bar. "
"Told you. Either she's been taking herself in hand, or somebody's been doing it for her. "

“Are well from what I've heard, there's been some sort of a bust up. ”
“How's that then?”
“Don't know the ins and outs of it, but he's down in London, and hasn't been home for over six weeks. ”
“Well she's definitely out on the pull; I've never seen her dressed-up without being on her husband's arm. And coming into this pub on her own; never. ”
“Well six weeks without a bit of how's your father; it's enough to make any woman start looking for a substitute. ”
“What d'you mean you old bugger, you ain't had any how's your father for ten years or more; so how would you know?”
They all laughed at this.

Then another man joined their conversation, this time a stranger to the area.
“So who is the young lady?”
“Ah she's not from around here. Her and her husband bought the old Thomas place up on shag fell. But he works down in London. ”
“Still, I suppose she's got relatives or some companion living with her?”
“No.

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   She's normally a real recluse. That's why today was so different. She rarely comes into the village, and when she does, she normally dresses like her. ”
He pointed to a picture on the wall. A beggar woman dressed in rags.
“Oh come on Roy, she isn't that bad, she's always got a pleasant smile, and even if she doesn't normally dress up to the nines, she's always clean and tidy. ”
“Never said no different. But you ain't telling me, she isn't looking for company. ”
Another local quipped,
“The petals only open up when the flower wants to attract a bee. And she certainly had her pollen on show today. ”
"Not just on show, she was wafting the scent of it around like an orchard in full spring blossom. "

The stranger asked,
“The fruit she was selling, do you think she'd have any more for sale?”
The landlord said,
“I think I bought all her spare fruit, but she did tell me she'd got more jam and bottled fruit than she could ever use; so maybe she'd sell some of that. ”
“Well that would be even better; it would save me the job. Do you think you could give me directions to her place?”
“She lives about fifteen or so miles out on the Thirsk road, but look out there now, the weather is closing in. They promised us a storm, and it looks like it won't be long a coming.

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   If I was you I'd by some local, Mrs Gamer in the middle of the village always has some for sale. ”
“Maybe, but as we're going out that way, it wouldn't really be off our path. ”

One of the locals quipped,
“If you ask me, you're more interested in her pollen than her fruit. ”
There was a little chuckle all around. The stranger smiled,
“Well I'd be interested if she was game. But at my age, I can't see her offering to let me collect any honey. ”
Then he looked across to where his two boys sat. I say boys, but they were men in their twenties, and built like giants,
“Now if it was my lads you were talking about; that might be different. I think they'd me'be stir something up in the lass. Anyway, you say her place is about fifteen miles out, what's the name of it?”
“You won't need a name, once you leave the village; you'll pass two farms about five miles out, and then nothing until you see her place right high up on the moors. She's at the end of a private road. There isn't another property within seven miles. ”
One of the other regulars butted in,
“Ten. ”
“Well yes, from Jackson's place, it's about ten miles by road. But she's at least seven miles as the crow flies from any other house.

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  ”
“Well thanks for the information, I think we'll get going now, it looks like the rain has already started. "

I of course, wasn't privy to any of that conversation, so I'd just gone off home, and before I'd arrived, the storm had started. I parked my Land Rover, and went inside. The days events, although looking back now, all seem innocent, had stirred something up inside me. So much so, that as soon as I got inside I went immediately to the bathroom and run myself a bath. During the half an hour I lay there soaking, I not only calmed down, but I also decided to ignore Mrs Lang's suggestion, about how I should dress that is, and I decided I'd revert back to my normal wear.

We now move on just a few hours, its seven o' clock, I've not long washed up the things from tea time, and I'm sitting in the snug in a comfy arm chair. Being late autumn it's already dark outside and that storm is now raging in its full fury out there. Thunder and lightning, and rain coming down in sheets. Up here on the moors, when a storm rages, it's a real fury. Not that I'm worried, the cottage is well built and well maintained. There is plenty of wood stacked up inside, and not only is the kitchen range blazing away pumping out heat, but the big open fire in the snug is also roaring and crackling.

This place of ours is at the end of its own private drive, a road which is a good two miles long. So of an evening, unless I've got something arrange with one of the local women, I never ever get an evening visitor. And with a storm like the one outside in full fury, I certainly am not expecting one tonight.

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   So my hair is tied up, I'm not wearing makeup; I'm not even wearing a bra. I've got on an old wrap-around house coat come dress, which doesn't even button together. All it has is a loop and tie-string to hold the overlapping front to the waist. And underneath, I'm wearing a very old fashioned pair of cotton knickers. You know, very long, elastic around the waist, with big baggy leg openings. Like I say, I'm not expecting company, and I find this style of underwear very comfortable.

I hear a noise, and its coming from the front of the house. With the noise of the storm, it's only just discernable. I turn off the stereo, and then the noise changes, it's now recognisable as the big brass door knocker on the actual front door. I guess the first noise was someone using their hand or fist to bang on the outside door to the porch. Now you might think I should have been worried, especially being on my own. But in all the time we'd lived up here, there has never been a hint of trouble, and the local people are the salt of the earth.

As I walk down the hall, I'm thinking it must be a local who has been stranded in some way by the storm, and made their way up to our cottage to take refuge. Well I was partly right. I opened the door, and there were three men.

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   I'm sure you've heard the expression ‘drowned rats'. Well I guess it's not fair to say they looked like rats, but one thing is for sure. If they just climbed out of the local river, they couldn't have been any more soaked. All three of them were huddled together in the little porch, and with the dim light in there I could just about make out their faces.

I didn't recognise any of them. There was a man about as tall as my Jim, but he was in the same age group as my dad, well into his fifties. And the two other men with him were much younger, I'd guess, late twenties. But these two were giants, six foot six at least, and big broad shoulders.

The older man spoke.
“I'm sorry to call on you in this state lass, but our car has just been hit by a falling tree. And from down in the valley, the lights of your house were the only thing we could see. Can we use your phone? Or being as were in such a state, could you ring for a breakdown truck for us?”
I stepped back into my hallway,
“Come on in. You look perished. ”
“No it's alright. We'll mess-up your house.

 

   If you could just ring for us?”
“Well ok. But pull the porch door closed behind you, and I'll go and get some towels, so you can at least dry yourselves down a little. ”

So off I went, leaving the front door open, and I returned with three bath towels.
“There you are. Now I'll go and ring for a tow truck. Do you have any special firm in mind?”
“No lass. We're not from around here. Just ring the local garage. ”

So off I went, and as soon as I'd picked up the receiver, I realised the line was dead. Again, this didn't worry me or seen suspicious, in a storm out here, a tree taking down the telephone line was quite normal. But, of course, that fact wasn't going to help their situation. I went back out to where they were now at least looking at me without water dripping from their heads.

“I'm sorry, but the telephone line must be down. I guess there's nothing for it, you'll have to come in. ”
“But your floor?”
“It'll clean.

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   If you follow me straight down the hall into the kitchen. ”
With this I started to walk back down my hallway, as I continued with,
“I guess you'd all better take it in turns to have a bath and get out of those wet clothes. ”

They were following me in a line, with the older man first. He replied,
“But lass won't your husband mind. ”
“He isn't here, but I can't see why he would anyway. The only thing is, he's not the same build as your friends, so I won't have any dry clothes for them. I think I might find enough bath robes, they might just about be able to get one of them to wrap around them. ”

We were now in the entrance to my kitchen. I say entrance, because the main part of the kitchen has the range, washing machine, spin dryer and fridge all along one side; these take up the full length of the outside wall. And with a work surface all the way along the length of the other, the gap in between the two is really only wide enough for one person. To pass someone in between the two sides requires both people to turn sideways, and then squeeze past each other. Something Jim and I love doing; but that's another story. Anyway, being as we have a downstairs bathroom, built in the extension on the back of the house, this puts it the other side of the kitchen. So I'd stopped short of the range, where the kitchen is considerably wider, so as to allow the first of them to make their way past me to the bathroom.

As we reached this point, the older man replied,
“Are you sure its not too much trouble lass?”
“Well I can't get you a tow truck, and I can hardly send you back out into that storm, so if you're gonna sit it out here, it makes sense to let you each get a hot bath.

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   And if you throw your clothes out while you're in there, I can stick them into the spin dryer. Then maybe by the time the storm has eased off, with them hung on the drying rail up there, they might be dry enough for you to wear. ”
“Well lass I don't know what to say. You're an angel and no mistake. Well if your sure about this, I think its best if our Tom goes first. You see,”
And at this point he spoke softly, and nodded back towards one of the younger men,
“Our Kenneth here is a little slow on the uptake, so if Tom has first go, he can then show Kenneth the ropes. ”

So as Tom went off toward the bathroom, I followed on behind. Once I'd shown him what was what and where to find a robe, I waited outside the bathroom door for the clothes to be passed out. I'd expected the door to crack open, and Tom to hide behind it, with just his arm appearing around the door to pass the clothes. But to my surprise, and horror, the door swung wide open and a naked Tom stood there. Brazen as you like, his wet soggy clothes in a bundle in his hands. And the height he was holding them did absolutely nothing to cover his manhood.

I stood there for a second, in a state of shock. Not only at his barefaced rudeness, but also, the size of his manhood! I know I'm a married woman, but I'd been a virgin when I'd walked down the aisle with Jim, and my Jim's cock, was the only cock I'd ever seen. But this big lump of meat hanging limp in between Tom's legs, was over double the size of my Jim's cock.

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   I was staring as much in disbelief as I was shock. Then I came to my senses, and without a word, I grabbed the clothes, turned and marched back into my kitchen.

I stopped at the spin dryer and bundled the clothes in. I needed the few moments it took to distribute the clothes around the drum, not only to make sure this heavy load was spread evenly, but more to give myself time to collect my wits. With the bathroom being positioned off to one side at the end of the kitchen, I knew the older man and Kenneth would not have seen what had taken place, but I'm sure if I'd have gone straight back, without time to collect myself, they'd have known something had happened.

So now recovered, and spin dryer cycle started, I made my way back to where the older man, was standing alongside Kenneth, and both of them directly in front of the range. As I approached, the older man backed away from the range, as if making room for me to sidestep past him. I looked at the small gap, but knew I wouldn't get through without making bodily contact. I was for a moment not sure if I should just squeeze through, or say something. But just then the man said,
“Shift yourself back up there Kenneth, so I can move out of the way to let the lady get through. ”

And as soon as Kenneth moved, so did he, and so I slipped past them both without incident, saying,
“Thank you. Would you like a cup of tea whilst were waiting for, Tom. It is Tom, isn't it?”
“Yes, that's my lad Tom. And this is my other boy Kenneth. Oh, and I'm Jack.

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  ”
We shook hands, as I said,”
“Well that's rich; I'm Jill. ”
We both laughed, but Kenneth just stood there looking confused.

I made a pot of tea, and the three of us stood there in front of the range drinking it, while Jack told me how a tree had been struck by lightning and a massive branch had landed in the road directly in front of them. Their car had collided with it, and mounted itself up in amongst the smaller branches, coming to a standstill straddling the main bough.
“So you see, its going nowhere without a tow truck. ”
“Well thank god you're all unharmed, the car can be mended, or if not, replaced. ”
“Too right. But without an angel like you, we'd be out there in that nightmare. ”

He'd only just finished his tea and put his cup onto the work surface, when the light from the bathroom lit up the passage at the end of the kitchen,
“Ah, I think Tom's done. Go on then Kenneth lad, Tom'll show you how to go on. ”
“I'll go and take Tom's clothes out of the spinner. ”
And with that I followed Kenneth, but I stopped at the spinner, where I removed Tom's stuff, taking it back and piling it on the work surface opposite the range. Then after lowering the drying rack from the ceiling, I positioned the clothes along its length, to keep it balanced, but leaving enough spare bars for the next two lots of clothing. As I was about to haul it up, Jack's arms came around my shoulders, and he took the cord, hauling it up for me. But in so doing, it had brought our bodies into a very close contact.

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   Not that he took advantage, but it nevertheless unnerved me a little.

Then Tom appeared, and with him being so tall and broad, the bathrobe looked almost like a jacket, one that only just met with very little overlap. Thank god it had the tie/belt around it, which did at least attempt to keep the front from hanging open. Not wanting to have to pass Tom in the narrow gangway, I called down to him,
“Wait there a second, I'll come and put Kenneth's clothes in the spinner. ”
And then as I saw he looked like he was about to ignore me, and make his way towards where we stood, I added,
“No Tom, wait the other side of the spin dryer, there isn't room for us to pass alongside the work surface. ”

He smiled broadly as he said,
“Don't worry, I'll squeeze past you. ”
I looked at Jack for support, but as none appeared to be forthcoming, I turned back and said,
“Ok, drop them on the work surface; I'll wait for you to come here.
    And then once I've put them into the dryer, I'll pour you a cup of tea. ”
    He did as I'd told him, putting the clothes down, but then his reply took me by surprise.
    “Its not tea I need, ain't you got no whisky?”
    Jack replied in an agitated voice,
    “Now then Tom lad. That's not very polite. ”

    “No Jack, he's right. I guess even a hot bath doesn't really get the cold from your bones. Its just me being tea-total, I always think everybody else likes it as much as I do. I'm sure there's a bottle in the dresser.

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       Anyway Tom, now you're dry, you might as well go and sit in the snug, and we'll all join you once the bathing is finished. ”
    Jack replied for Tom,
    “You're too kind Jill; we didn't come here to sponge off you. ”
    “It's only a glass of whisky; I think I can stand you a drink. I'm sure you'd do the same if the rolls were reversed. ”

    Tom was still alongside where he'd put the clothes, and he said,
    “Ain't you coming to sort out these wet clothes?”
    “I will when you come up here, I told you the gap is too narrow. ”
    He again smiled,
    “Not for me its not. ”
    Jack said angrily,
    “Enough of that Tom. Get yourself up here smartish, and go and wait in the other room, like the lady told you to. ”
    There were no comments or hesitation, he just meekly walked past us both, and into the snug through the door I was holding open. As he passed me, I said,
    “Sit yourself down in front of the fire; I'll be in as soon as I've put Kenneth's clothes into the dryer. ”

    And that was what I did, leaving Jack stood on his own in the kitchen, still dripping water onto the floor. As I entered the snug, Tom was seated where I'd told him to sit. I walked to the dresser, and as soon as I began pouring the glass of whisky, I knew Tom had got up from the chair. And even though I hadn't turned or glanced behind me, I could in some way sense his close presence. But what I didn't know until I turned, was that he was stood not two paces away, facing me, with the bathrobe held wide open.

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       My eyes nearly popped out of my head, and the glass slipped through my fingers, shattering with a crash as it hit the stone floor.

    I made a dash for the door, but as my hand took hold of the doorknob, his hand encircled my wrist.
    “Where are you going? Aren't you gonna pour me another glass?”
    “I I have to see to the spinner, just help yourself, you saw where I got it from. ”
    It was then I felt his other hand, pulling on my other wrist, and wrapping my left hand around his cock.

    I say wrapping , but his cock was no longer hanging down all limp, as I'd turned, it had been stood there, bolt upright, and if it wasn't over a foot in height, then I'm a Dutch-man. (A phrase my dad used to use) But not only was it long, it was so fat, my fingers weren't long enough to encircle it; not that I wanted to. But with his hand wrapped around mine, he made sure I at least got to feel it throbbing.
    “Please let me go. ”
    “Don't you like my cock? I thought the way you was eyeing it up in the bathroom; that you maybe wanted to take a ride on it. ”
    “Please. Let me go. ”

    He'd by now moved in real close, so his body was pinning me to the wall. He now released my right hand, thus allowing him to use his freed-up left hand to cup and squeeze my breasts. As his hand moved from one breast to the other, I let out a scream. His hand now flew to my mouth, where he stifled any further sounds.

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       We stood there for what must have been five minutes, one hand preventing me from making any noise, the other guiding my fingers up and down his throbbing cock. And then we heard Jack's voice from the kitchen,
    “Jill lass. Kenneth is done now, what do you want me to do with my clothes?”

    Both of Tom's hands let go, and in seconds, the door was open and he was pushing me out towards the kitchen. I was all of a fluster, but as Jack was by now at the other end of the kitchen, he didn't notice. I hurriedly made my way towards him, feeling at least the nearer I was to him, the safer I'd be. I said,
    “I'll take Kenneth's clothes out now, if you give yours to him, he can bring them out. ”
    “Ok, will do. ”

    But as he spoke, out came Kenneth, naked as the day he was born. But like his brother Tom, his cock was like a salami hanging there in between his legs. It wasn't aroused, but even in its limp state, it still looked menacing. The bathrobe was casually draped over his arm.
    “Oh Kenneth lad. Don't go flaunting yourself like that in front of the lady. ”
    Then as he took him by the arm and turned him back into the bathroom,
    “I'm sorry Jill lass, but he really doesn't know he's doing anything wrong. I'll get him to put the robe on, and then I'll send him out with my clothes.

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       Oh, and don't you struggle to lift that drying rack, get Tom or Kenneth here to do it for you. ”

    Then the bathroom door closed. I took out the clothes from the spinner, and I took them to the other end of the kitchen. I lowered the drying rack and began to put the clothes along its length as I'd done with the others. As I put the last piece on, Tom appeared behind me. I quickly ducked under the drying rack, and stood the other side of it.
    “If you come any closer I'll scream for your dad. ”
    “Now why would you do that? What have I done?”
    “Just you stop that side. And while you're there, you might as well pull that rack up for me. But I don't want you coming down this end of the kitchen. ”

    Then I heard the door behind me, and as I turned, there was Kenneth with his dad's clothes in a bundle in his hands. And this time, he had the robe wrapped around him. But like his brother, it looked far too small. I went down to meet him, and took the clothes from him one by one, and positioned them in the spinner, and as I turned towards the range end of the kitchen, the rack was hauled up out of the way, and Tom was stood there, robe wide open again. His cock was not as hard or rampant as before, but it was by no means limp.

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       It kind of hung in a bent fashion out in front of him.

    “Ok Tom, that's enough of that, why don't you just cover yourself up and go back into the snug and get yourself a drink. ”
    “I'll cover myself up on one condition. ”
    “And what might that be?”
    “You come back in and pour the drink for me. ”
    “And if I do, do you promise to keep that thing covered up. ”
    “I guess so. ”
    “And you'll keep your hands to yourself. No touching or anything like that?”
    “I wouldn't dream of it. ”
    “Look Tom, if you do touch me, I swear I'll put you all out in the rain. ”
    “What? All by yourself. I didn't know you were such a big strong girl. ”

    Why the hell I'd said that, I don't know, like I'd said, him and his brother were six foot six if they were an inch, and here I am, five foot four and nine stone when wringing wet. Oh, I guess I ought to also tell you just a little about myself. I'm twenty three, brunet, 38b 25 36, and not wanting to brag, but I do attract a lot of male attention, so I guess I must have at least a little of what it takes.

    But back to my predicament, I'd made a stupid declaration, and I knew I couldn't back it up.

     

       But what was also dawning on me, was that I have three strangers in my house, and absolutely no way of calling for help should it be required. And the more Tom played his games, the more I began to realise help might be needed. So anyway, I thought maybe, the best plan is to appease him, only just enough until his dad gets out of the shower, and then throw myself into the protection of his dad Jack.

    “Ok Tom, I'll take you at your word. Now remember, I've taken you in, and looked after not only you, but your brother as well. So now I'm putting my trust in you, I expect you to behave yourself. ”
    “Ok. Come on then. ”
    And with that, he pulled the two sides of the robe together, and tied the belt. I walked towards where he was waiting for me. As I got close I said,
    “Ok, you go first, you know the way. ”
    He stretched his arm high in the air, and reached across and behind me, bringing it gently down in the middle of my back, and at the same time said,
    “Oh no, it's always ladies first. ”

    I wanted to pull away, but realised, if I tried, he'd win the struggle, and I'd be on the back-foot. So instead, I stepped in front of him, and he followed on close, his hand slipping down my back, and pushing me along with his open palm under my bottom. And when I say bottom, I mean dead centre, and pushed under, taking the loose fitting material of my housecoat into the crevice.

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       I wanted to stop and confront him, but knew again, that this would just promote a conflict, one I couldn't win.

    So instead, I just walked into the room and as I did so, I said,
    “You promised no touching. ”
    I didn't stop until I reached the dresser, and when I did stop, and began to fill his glass, he said,
    “I'm not touching you; your dress is in between my hand and your fanny. ”
    I'd filled his already used glass, and as I turned to pass it to him, I felt a tug, and tearing sensation. And as I turned, he used both his hands to pull the front of my housecoat wide open. The ripping had been the loop on my waist, where the wraparound had been tied to.

    I stood there with the glass in one hand, and tried to pull my housecoat back together with the other. But it was pointless, Tom was using two very strong hands to hold the housecoat open, and short of ripping my own clothes, I just had to stand there. What happened next was another surprise. I knew Kenneth had followed us into the room, but he'd just been stood warming his hands by the open fire, not taking any notice of Tom's tricks. (Hands under my bum that is) But the second he saw my naked breasts, he homed in on me like; well I'm not sure; maybe a guided missile is the only thing that comes to mind.

    I'm not kidding, I'd hardly started to workout what I was going to do or how I would deal with Tom holding my housecoat open, when Kenneth's mouth was on my left breasts, and his arms were wrapped around me. At this, Tom let go. Kenneth just picked me up, and walked across to the big armchair in front of the fire, sat himself down, with me on his knee, and sucked away. Tom just stood there with a big beaming smile on his face.

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    “What in god's name are you playing at? Tell him to get off me. ”
    “Nothing to do with me, you tell him. ”
    “Kenneth luv, that's enough now. Come on please stop it. I'll tell your dad, and you know he'll be cross with you. ”
    It was as if I hadn't spoke, he hugged me tight, and sucked hard. Well now came the biggest problem of them all. As you know, it had been six weeks since Jim and I had had any quality time, and by that I mean been to bed together. Also, after the revelations of last weekend, I guess my own loyalties to Jim were under a strain to say the least.

    The days event's, while liked I'd said earlier, might appear innocent, had somehow driven my bodily senses wild. And in so doing, taking me to such heights of arousal, and then melting away without actually reaching a climax, it had left me feeling so unfulfilled. And now so far tonight, I'd seen two cocks, the like of which I'd never even imagined existed, let alone seen before. I'd held one of them, and wanked it while it throbbed relentlessly in my hand. And even though I'd not done it voluntarily; I'd done it all the same. And something I hadn't mentioned, when I'd escaped from Tom after wanking him, my hand had been wet and slimy, from the pre-cum that had oozed from his big bell-end.

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       I'd also had my breasts fondled. And now Kenneth was sucking for all he was worth.

    I'm sure there can't be many women out there, who even if they had been regularly (as the farmers say) serviced, wouldn't find their bodies reacting to such an array of stimuli. Well faithful wife or as Mrs Lang would have it, Gander looking for sauce; my body was now on fire, and that is putting it mildly. I tried to struggle free, but that was useless. I kept up a barrage of pleas and threats of actions to be carried out by Kenneth's father, but nothing made any impression at all. And now Tom was stood in front of me, cock in hand, as he wanked slowly and menacingly. Kenneth was still sucking on my breast but he'd now taken to going from one to the other. This was making me so horny, my nipples were standing out, and the tingling, no throbbing, was almost more than I could stand. But there was no sign at all that it was having any effect on him, it was almost as if he was a baby sucking on his mother to get milk.

    But Tom was an entirely different matter. He was pumping his hand up and down that monster cock, and I thought it couldn't be long before he moved his brother out of the way, and used this cock in the way his threatening eyes kept proclaiming he would. But even knowing I was about to be raped, there was nothing I could do. I wasn't strong enough to resist. Even if I screamed my lungs out, the thick stone walls in this house, would prevent Jack from hearing me at the other end of the building.

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       All I could do was to lie here and pray that Jack would soon be finished his bath, and that he would be able to control his sons.

    And then, just as I was beginning to give up hope, we heard Jack's voice.
    “Ok Jill lass, I'm done, do you want me to get my own clothes out of the spin dryer, and put them on the rack for you?”
    Tom had his robe wrapped around himself in two seconds flat, but Kenneth was oblivious, and he kept on sucking from breast to breast. The door opened, and as he walked in, Jack was saying,
    “I guess you couldn't hear me, I was just asking. Oh no Kenneth. Tom lad, surely you could have stopped him. ”

    He came across, and with a hand on each of Kenneth's shoulders, he started to try to get him to leave me alone,
    “Come on lad. The lady doesn't want to have to nurse you all night. Now come on lad. You know that you're not allowed to do that. Kenneth's mouth left my breast, and he looked up at his dad.
    “But dad, she showed them to me. ”
    “Now I'm sure she didn't. Come on lad, if the lady showed them to you and she doesn't mind you having a little suck, then I'll let you have a go later. But right now, there are jobs in the kitchen I need her to do for me.

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       So come on, be a good lad. ”

    Reluctantly, he lifted me up from his lap, and let me stand on my own feet, and as I did, I pulled both sides of my housecoat back and wrapped them across each other. It was like I'd fired off a flare. Kenneth shot from the chair, and screaming and shouting, he pulled my housecoat wide open again.
    “DON'T DO THAT. DAD, SHE'S COVERING THEM UP. I WANT HER TO KEEP THEM OUT FOR ME. ”
    Jack again took hold of his son's shoulders, but this time in a forceful manner. Not that such a smaller man could in any real way restrain this angry giant. But he did respond to his dad's voice, and he let go of my housecoat. But not before he'd torn it. And before I got chance to try to pull the torn material to attempt some sort of cover, Jack said,
    “No Jill lass. Leave it open, and you come with me. ”

    So with my housecoat still open, breasts on full show, and nipples standing out proud, I meekly followed Jack out from our snug, into the kitchen. As soon as we were out there, he said,
    “My god girl, what on earth possessed you to show him your tits?”
    I was taken aback by this question, and I stuttered out,
    “I I didn't.

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       It was your Tom. He ripped my housecoat open. ”
    “Oh god I'm sorry. You can cover yourself up now if you want. I should have realised. He'd do anything to try to get his brother into trouble. He didn't hurt you, did he?”
    “No, but he ripped the tie ribbon on my housecoat, and then held it open so your Kenneth could see my nakedness. ”
    “Yes that would do it. And then I guess Kenneth just lost control?”
    “Yes. He came at me so suddenly. ”

    “I guess I'll have to explain. It all started when they were very young. I mean all babies suckle their mother's tits, but with our Kenneth being so; well lets say different. Whenever he got upset, his mother would lift him up for a cuddle, and he'd suckle her tits. But this then became a comforter for him.

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       I mean, even after he'd been weaned. Well by the time they were both toddlers; they are twins by the way. Like I said, by the time they were running around, Tom had started to get jealous of Kenneth's cuddles, and he started to play up. Well I didn't find out until some years on, but to pacify Tom, the wife took to playing with his cock, and even sucking it. By the time they were starting the big school, they were both being treated to more of my wife's goodies than I was! And on a much more regular basis. ”

    “It was around then, when I came home one day early, and found Tom fucking her. I know it's hard to believe, but she told me some time later, that they had both been able to get erections from the time they started their first school. But she said they didn't actually shoot their first load of cum until they were both at the big school. And believe it or not, they both came on-line so to speak, within a month of each other. And all these years, neither of them have ever had another woman except my wife, and they were both fucking and doing just about everything imaginable to her, up until about three years ago, when she passed away suddenly with a brain tumour. I sometimes wonder if it wasn't the tumour that had affected her judgment, and the way she brought those lads up. ”

    “So you see, Kenneth wasn't coming to you for sex as such, in his mind, seeing your tits on display, he just wanted some old fashioned comfort. ”
    “I see. That explains one thing. ”
    “What's that lass?”
    “I don't know how to put it.

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      ”
    “Well there's no point in being shy now. You spit it out, I've seen it all, and I won't be offended by anything you say. ”
    “Well it was just all the time he held me and was sucking my breasts, his, you know. ”
    “His cock?”
    “Yes. It was still soft. But Tom was stood there in front of me, with the biggest erection I've ever seen. ”

    “That's it my dear. I'm sorry about what happened. But now I guess I'd better get my damp clothes back on, and get the boys to get dressed as well. ”
    “But the storm is still raging. ”
    “I know, but we can't wait until it blows over now. You've seen the size of those boys. If they want you, there's little I could do to stop them. ”
    “But they both do what you tell them. ”
    “Ah well yes.

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       But only up to a point. If you were to upset Kenneth; I mean like when you pulled your dress together. I mean, he could flare up, and I'd not be able to stop him. ”
    “But you'll have at least ten miles to walk to get to the nearest house. And if their phone line is down as well, it's another five more miles to the nearest village. ”

    “Well of course I don't want to go out there, but other than us going now, there are only two more options. ”
    “And they are?”
    “Well you resign yourself to playing the substitute mother to both of them. And you know what that would mean?”
    “You mean letting them have sex with me?”
    He nodded,
    “Or there is maybe one other way. ”
    He paused, I said,
    “Go on. ”
    “Well if you keep Kenneth on your side, he wouldn't let Tom touch you. Well not have sex with you anyway. ”

    “What? You mean if I let you stay, I'll have to let Kenneth suck my breasts, to keep him happy. ”
    “You saw his reaction when I told him to let you go. The only reason he took any notice of me, was that I said he could carry on once you'd finished doing jobs for me. ”
    “I can't believe that after all I've done for you, that you could expect me to let him do that.

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      ”
    “I don't. ”
    And at this he un-tied the cord, and as he started to lower the drying rack, continued,
    “That is why I said I'd better take them away from here. ”

    He began to pull the clothes from the rack, but I put my hands onto his,
    “No wait. Surely there is some way to stop them without having to send you all back out into that storm. I mean its getting worse if anything. I wouldn't put a dog out on a night like this. ”
    “But like you said, I can't ask you to nurse him. And I know that if he isn't pacified, then he won't be on your side if Tom decides to rape you. ”
    “But you think if I let Kenneth nurse me, as you put it, then he will stop Tom?”
    "Oh yes. Tom might look and act as if he is the stronger of the two, but Kenneth has a violent rage. I wouldn't be surprised if his brain isn't suffering like his mother's was. ”
    “Oh that's dreadful, I'm so sorry for him. "
    "It's not him that suffers, he's oblivious to it. It's the likes of you who pay the price. "

    "Yes I see, and I know it isn't their fault.

     

       And I can maybe forgive and try to put it out of my mind, the things they've already done. But try as I might, even though it might be the Christian thing to do, I can't walk in there and just let your boys maul my body. I'm sorry. ”
    He took all the clothes from the rack, and carried the bundle towards where I stood at the door to the snug. As I opened it for him, in he went. I stopped in the kitchen, but propped the door slightly ajar with a log from the wood box; I wanted to hear what was said.

    “Ok lads, get yourselves dressed, I'll go and get my clothes on, and I'll be back in a couple of minutes. ”
    It was Kenneth's voice I heard next,
    “Where is she?”
    “Never you mind where she is, we're going now. Just get yourself dressed. ”
    The next sound I heard was a dull thud, and then a throaty noise. It took a good minute before I realised it was a choking sound. I threw the door open, and there was Kenneth holding his dad up against the wall. His hands were around his dad's neck, and his dad's feet were dangling in mid air. The noise had all but stopped coming from his mouth, and his face was bright red.

    I dashed across and took hold of one of Kenneth's wrists with both my hands and as I pulled like crazy, I yelled,
    “Stop it! For gods sake stop it.

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      ”
    My pathetic grip on his wrist had no effect at all, and neither did my shouting. In a last desperate effort, I stood back a couple of paces, pulled the top of each side of my housecoat wide open, and with my breasts pushed fully out towards Kenneth, I said,
    “Here Kenneth. You can have them. Let him down. ”
    Talk about magic, Jack dropped like a stone, into a crumpled heap on the floor, and I was swept up in Kenneth's arms and carried back to the big arm chair. His mouth was instantly back on my nipples.

    And within seconds, my nipples were again on fire. I looked across to where Jack was still lying, and there was no movement. I called to Tom,
    “See if your dad is ok. ”
    “Fuck him. ”
    “Please Tom. He could be dieing. ”
    “Serves him right. ”
    “Tom please. ”
    It was then I saw an idea springing into his head.

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       I'm not kidding; it was just like a cartoon character. His surly look changed to a big sly grin. If I'd have thought about it, I could have guessed what his next words would be.

    “What's it worth?”
    But I hadn't, and it took me by surprise,
    “What?”
    “What's it worth if I go and make sure he's ok?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I get to fuck you? Yes?”
    “No. ”
    “Well that means you've fucked him. ”
    And then I got my next shock. He calmly walked to where his dad was lying, and lunged out with his leg. The heel of his f.

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