Becca’s Coming of Age

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Becca’s Coming of Age

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I’ve been told that when my mother was in labor with me, my father made the mistake of getting his head down close to her. When he did so, she put him in a headlock and rasped, “If you ever touch me again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Twelve hours later, I was born. Surprisingly enough, my little brother, Michael, followed two years later.

My name is Rebecca Lee Garrett. I was born on February 29th, 2012. As a result, I have had all of four actual birthdays since then. On all non leap years, my family celebrates my birthday either on February 28th (odd years) or March 1st (even years).

My father is the Reverend Jason Garrett, pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, and currently the Bishop of the DC Metro Synod (as in Washington, DC). My mother is Dr. Erin Benning Garrett, and from 2021 until 2029, she was the Secretary of Education under President Tara Martinson.

My family lives in Georgetown, in Washington, DC. So does my Uncle Austin’s family, and my Aunt Emily’s family. There is an explanation as to how the entire Garrett clan came to live in Georgetown.

We all used to be from the Los Angeles area, in California. I was born at Henry Mayo Hospital in Valencia, California. I wasn’t supposed to be born there, but my mom went into labor when she and my dad were up visiting a friend of theirs at El Camino Pines, a Lutheran camp about fifty miles north of Los Angeles. In 2021, when I was almost nine, my mom was appointed as Secretary of Education, and we moved to DC. My dad found a Lutheran parish looking for a pastor, and then in 2027, was elected bishop of the synod.

My Uncle Austin and his wife, Kat, were from Pasadena. I had heard that once upon a time my Aunt Kat did a little bit of amateur porn, but I didn’t believe it. Unfortunately, when I was twelve, a classmate of mine showed me the November 2009 Hustler in which she could be plainly seen screwing some guy’s brains out.

Anyway, Uncle Austin is in the Air Force. In 2024, he was promoted to colonel and assigned to the Air Force Intelligence office at the Pentagon. The house right next door to my parents’ house was for sale, so Austin and Kat bought that house and moved in. Their son, Reginald (he goes by Reggie), is my age – he was born a month after I was.

My Aunt Emily (Dad’s baby sister) and her husband, Marty Daly, lived in Northridge, but they moved to DC in 2026. If Uncle Marty’s name sounds familiar, it’s because from 2010 till 2024, he was the starting quarterback for the Los Angeles Marauders of the National Football League. Before that, he was the starting quarterback for four years at the University of Southern California. He retired in 2024 when his doctor told him that if he suffered one more concussion, it would probably cause severe brain damage.

In May of 2026, Uncle Marty was offered the job of head coach of the Washington Redskins. Well, he and Aunt Emily and their daughter, Marianne, packed up and moved to Georgetown, where they bought the house across the street from Uncle Austin. Marianne was born in March of 2014, two years after me.

In January of 2029, President Martinson’s term ended. However, she and her husband, Jacob, and their sons Russell (two months older than me) and Mark (Marianne’s age), liked Washington so much that they decided to stay. In fact, they ended up buying the house right across the street from my parents’, which was rather convenient, since she was an old college friend of both of my parents.

Now I had friends from school, and from church. However, my real “crew”, as I liked to call it, was my cousins and the President’s sons. Reggie and Russell were best friends, and I was very close to both of them. Mark and Michael were best friends as well, and Marianne was always around them. As it was, the three of us older kids were always hanging out with the three younger kids because our parents wanted us to keep an eye on them.

That had its ups and its downs. It was always fun hanging out with so many people, but when Reggie, Russ, and I turned 17, we couldn’t go to R-rated movies as long as they were hanging out with us, which they usually were.

They group of us were so close that nobody was really that surprised when, in the fall of 2029, Mark asked Marianne to go to homecoming with him. After that, they started dating. It was very cute, but kind of made Mike feel like a third wheel sometimes. As such, I made it a point for us to hang out as a group more, so that Mike would feel more included.

I had had a thing for Russ all through high school, but as the son of the President, and then the son of the former President, he pretty much had the pick of the litter. He played free safety and wide receiver for our high school’s football team, and throughout most of high school had a cheerleader on his arm.

I probably could’ve been a cheerleader. I’ve got the looks – a lot of people at my church tell me how much I look like my Aunt Kat, which is strange, since I have no blood relation to her at all. I got fındıkzade escort my dad’s height – I’m 5’10” – and my mom’s looks – kind of. I got her face, her complexion, and her chest – a fantastic 36D. However, I somehow ended up with red hair and bright green eyes, and the only explanation I can find is three generations back – my great grandmother was an immigrant from Ireland, and she had red hair and green eyes as well.

However, I was told that I was too tall to be a cheerleader. My parents, though, are both very talented musically, and I inherited that. I’m a classically trained pianist (got that from Dad), and I can sing the theme from The Phantom of the Opera without missing a note (got that from Mom). Fall semester of my senior year of high school, I was offered a full ride scholarship to Julliard. I accepted it right away, of course.

On March 1st, 2030, we celebrated my eighteenth birthday. The Martinsons hosted it, which made me quite happy – they had an indoor pool, which meant that I would get to put as much as possible on display for Russ to see. After all, he had been single for over a month now!

My family was there, as were Uncle Austin’s family and Aunt Emily’s family. My dad, Uncle Austin, Uncle Marty, and Jacob Martinson all got quickly blitzed on beer, while the women got a little more slowly smashed on wine.

“Well,” I commented as the six of us teenagers sat in the Martinsons’ family room, “this is a REAL fun birthday party. The adults are all smashed. What the heck are we supposed to do?”

“I’m going swimming,” said Marianne. “Screw them. Who’s with me?”

Mark and Mike both hopped up and followed her out. Then I saw a look pass between Reggie and Russ, and Reggie got up and left as well. GULP. There I was, wearing nothing but a bikini, alone in the room with Russ Martinson.

We sat in silence for a moment. Then he spoke.

“Becca,” he said.

Becca? He had never called me that before. It was always Rebecca or R.L. Only my closest girlfriends called me Becca.

“Becca,” he said again, “there’s something I really need to tell you.”

Oh God. Oh God.

“I really like you,” he continued slowly. “I have for a long time.”

“Why-” my voice came out like a croak. I cleared my throat. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” I forced out.

“I was too nervous to,” he replied. “You’re just so beautiful, and such an incredible musician, I always figured that you’d just reject me out of hand.”

“Wait a second,” I said. “You were too nervous? Russ, you must’ve dated two thirds of the varsity cheerleading squad in the last three and a half years!”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “Yeah, some of them were cool, but a lot of them only wanted to date me because I was the President’s son. They thought that if they could get me in bed, it would make them better than all other girls or something.”

Oh. That was something I didn’t know. I mean, I guess I had figured he’d been having sex with those girls, but I’d always kind of hoped…

“When I told them that I wasn’t going to have sex with them just because they wanted to say that they had gotten the President’s son in bed, a lot of them broke up with me. There were three that didn’t – they’re cool, and even though I’ve broken up with them, I’m still friends with them.”

Oh God, I shouldn’t ask, but the question’s just going to force it’s way out… “Did you… did you…”

“Yeah,” he answered before I could even get the question out. “I’m definitely not a virgin. Sometimes I regret the fact that I didn’t wait, but in a strange way, I don’t regret having sex with any of those three.”

Dammit, it was all three.

“The thing is,” he continued, “uh, the thing is…”

Where was he going with this?

“The reason I regret not waiting is because I wish that it had been you.”

OH HOLY SHIT. Here was Russ Martinson, son of the former President, Mr. Popular Jock, homecoming king 2029, telling me that he wished he had saved his virginity – FOR ME. “Oh boy,” I said. “That’s almost more than I can take.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I just really needed to tell you that.”

“No, no,” I replied. “It’s okay. Trust me, I do not mind being told that. It’s just way more than I ever expected to hear from you.”

Then something occurred to me. Wait a second, how had Russ gone from sitting on another couch to sitting next to me, with his hand on my knee? Not that that was a bad thing, I had just been so occupied with what was going on that I had failed to notice him move.

“Do you think… do you think there could be something between us?” he asked hesitantly.

“Sure!” I said. Oops, that was a little too happy. “Yes, I definitely do.”

And then, before I could lose my nerve, I leaned into him and kissed him.

But did the rat bastard kiss me back? NO. He broke it and said, “Wait a second, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Quite sure,” I replied. maslak escort I kissed him again, and this time he responded. After a few minutes of just plain kissing, I got a little bored, so I snaked my tongue into his mouth.

When it touched his, I felt him take a quick breath, but he responded quickly… and then, just as quickly, he pulled back and said, “Maybe we should go someplace a little more private.”

“Someplace a little more private” turned out to be his bedroom. We sat down on the bed – and immediately went back to our little make-out session. After a few minutes, he broke the kiss again and began kissing my neck. My breath sped up, and I could feel my pussy starting to get wet. Calm down, I commanded myself. You don’t want to get too excited too fast. After all, this might be as far as it goes.

Well, that’s what I told myself right up until he unbuttoned the top button of my blouse… then the second… and then all of them. He kissed his way down my chest, and then kissed my stomach. Oh God, that feels good, my mind told me. I had to agree.

Looking up at me, he slowly unclasped the fastener on the front of my bra. He separated it, freeing my breasts. Gently, he kissed each one of them, slowly twirling his tongue around the nipple. Now THAT was a new sensation for me, and it almost made me cum then and there.

Then he backed off and unbuttoned his own shirt. Oh God, he was fantastic. His pecs were beautifully formed, and had nice definition, but not too much – like you’d see on a body builder. He had washboard abs, and he had an even tan – something that’s rather hard to come by in Washington, DC! Ever so slowly, he unzipped his khakis and pulled them down and off of his legs, leaving only a pair of black boxer briefs concealing what appeared to be a fantastic ass and an even more incredible cock.

But he had to tease me. As he returned to me, I reached for the waistband of his underwear, but he grabbed my wrist, stopping me. Hooking a finger under the waistband of both my skirt and my panties at the same time, he slowly slid them down, over my knees, and off of my legs, leaving me completely naked. I don’t completely shave my pussy like so many women do these days, but keep it trimmed, very neat, and very short. In fact, I’ve seen porn from the beginning of the twenty-first century, and it appears that this was definitely the style back then.

Russ apparently approved, because he dived right in, using his tongue to do things to my pussy that I had never been able to do just with my fingers. I let out a soft moan as he worked his magic, feeling like I had never felt before.

But he was still just teasing me. He took me right to the edge of orgasm, and then stopped. Automatically, my hand went to my pussy, starting to rub it – I wanted to cum, dammit! But he grabbed my wrist again and moved it away. “Not yet,” he said, with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Then, he walked a few feet away and turned his back to me. With agonizing slowness, he rolled down his boxer briefs and let them slide down his legs and off his feet. Oh God, his ass was beautiful. I wanted to rush over and take a bite out of it. Turning his head to look at me over his shoulder, he said, “You like what you see?”

Oh yeah, I liked what I saw. And then, he turned around.

His cock was perfect, just like the rest of his body. It was erect and rock hard, about nine inches long. And he didn’t have a jungle surrounding it, like guys in pornos usually do. Instead, he had his pubic hair trimmed – not as short as mine, but it definitely was an area he paid attention to.

He walked back over to me, and as soon as it was in range, I wrapped my left hand around his cock. I gently stroked my hand up and down its length, surprised at just how warm it was. I reached up and kissed the tip of his cock, slowly licking it, almost like an ice cream cone.

“Um, yeah, you’re going to need to stop that,” Russ said. “If you don’t, I’m going to blow my load all over the wall.”

Reluctantly, I pulled my mouth away from his beautiful cock. “You’re going to have to do something soon, then,” I replied.

He opened the drawer of his nightstand and removed what I recognized to be a condom package. I had never actually seen one in use – public school sex ed is awful – but I knew what it was. I watched, fascinated, as he withdrew a small circle of clear latex rubber from the package and gently rolled it down the length of his cock.

Returning his attention to me, he leaned me down on my back on the bed, then leaned over me, supporting himself by putting one hand on either side of me. His cock laid with its tip just below my belly button. He slowly rubbed it up and down my slit, brushing my clit with each pass. He brought me just to the brink of orgasm once again – and then, just like every damn time before, stopped.

“Okay,” he said.

Pulling his cock all the way back, he positioned its head right at the entrance topkapı escort to my pussy. I watched, entranced, as the head made contact with my inner labia. He slowly pushed forward. As I watched, the head slipped between the lips of my pussy and I felt it enter me. He continued pushing forward, and I watched, amazed, as more of his cock disappeared into my pussy. Then I felt him come up against something, and he stopped.

“I’m at your hymen,” he said. “I can still pull out, no harm, no foul, or we can keep going.”

Oh, come on. Did he seriously think I wanted to stop?

“Let’s DEFINITELY keep going,” I replied.

“Okay, then,” he replied. “What’s going to happen next will probably hurt – maybe a little, maybe a lot.”

Oh. This was what I had heard from my friends about the pain when their so-called “maidenhead” was busted.

“Be gentle,” I said.

Having received the go ahead, he pulled back a little, and then quickly thrust forward.

Huh. Well, I felt pressure and a little pinch as my hymen gave way, but it didn’t hurt that badly at all.

He stopped. “Did it hurt?”

“Not really,” I replied. “Keep going!”

He resumed his ever so slow rate of entering me. I continued to watch his cock enter me, centimeter by centimeter. As I watched the last little bit of it enter me, I felt a tingle of pleasure as his cock ran into something – my cervix, I assumed.

He was completely inside of me, the tip of his cock in contact with my cervix. Oh boy, that felt good. “Okay,” I said, “are you just going to sit there, or are we going to keep going?”

“Let’s get it on,” he replied with a grin. He moved me further back, so that I was all the way on the bed, and laid himself down on top of me.

And then he pulled his cock all the way out of me. It was almost disappointing, the sudden emptiness that it left when he pulled out. But no sooner was he out than he pushed it back in – all the way back in. Then he pulled out, but not all the way this time. He quickly established a rhythm of in-out, in-out, thrusting quickly, but not too quickly. He brushed my cervix each time, causing my back to arch slightly every time he went in.

It was quite obvious to me that he had some experience, because he definitely knew what to do to get me going. With the thumb and index finger of his left hand, he started gently pinching my nipples, alternating between them. He leaned in and kissed me, hard and deep. As he did so, with all the stimuli that my body was reacting to, I felt an explosion building deep inside of me. As his thrusts got quicker, it got closer and closer to the surface. Then, suddenly, he thrust particularly hard and deep, and as his cock impacted my cervix, I let loose.

My face went white, my nipples got rock hard, and my body started to shake. I felt spasms racing through my pussy, and fluid started leaking out from my urethra. “Oh God,” I whispered, “oh God, oh God, oh YES!”

My first orgasm at the hands of a guy was quite amazing. When I finished, I felt Russ’s cock still in my pussy. He looked down at me with an amused grin. “Ready for more?” he asked.

Oh, he wasn’t done yet! “Oh hell yes.”

He pulled out of me, and told me to stand up. Then he laid down on the bed. “Now, turn around and face me,” he said.

I did as he ordered, and then, he added, “Now I want you to crouch over my cock, and slowly lower yourself until just the tip of it is touching the outside of your pussy.”

I did that too, “but I don’t think I’m going to be able to hold myself here for that long,” I warned him.

He raised his hands, and grabbed my waist. The upper body strength he had built as a football player was phenomenal, as he seemed to show no effort as he maneuvered my body in several different directions, rubbing my slit and clitoris against his cock as he did so. The stimulus felt amazing, and I felt a mini-orgasm – an aftershock, if you will – coming on. It let loose as the head of his cock just barely penetrated my pussy – and as my body started shaking, he let go of my waist, allowing me to fall the entire length of his cock. It rammed home against my cervix, and the aftershock turned into another full blown orgasm.

And he wasn’t about to let it stop. Acting quickly, he began to thrust his pelvis up and down, quickly sliding his cock in and out of my pussy. Each time he brushed my cervix, it caused another wave of the orgasm to flow out into my body. When he took the thumb of his right hand and started massaging my clit, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

As my orgasm hit peak after peak, I completely lost track of what was going on with Russ. It wasn’t till he grabbed my body and held me in place, freezing his cock as deep as it would go inside my pussy, that I realized that he had reached orgasm.

Even though he was wearing a condom, I could feel the warmth of his cum as it erupted out of his cock. The feeling of it against my cervix just added that much to my own orgasm.

When he finally finished, I expected him to pull out of me. But instead of doing so, he left his softening cock inside of me, pulled me to him, and kissed me as hard as he could. I responded in kind. After a couple of minutes of this, I felt his cock growing hard inside me once more. And then he started going again.

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May’s B,B Pt. 02

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After I’d eaten my cum from Ella’s fanny and licked her clean, we sat on the bed and talked. Mick was a couple of years older than May. She had run away from an abusive Farther–physical, not sexual.

She was going to London but had the misfortune to bump into Mick who had a room in a boarding house he called his flat. It had a bed, and he shared his food with her, and he thought he owned her. That’s when he got her pregnant.

They crossed the Irish Sea from Larne to Cairnryan, first travelling to Glasgow, then south on the east coast railway. The conductor checked their tickets at Wakefield; they didn’t have any, so he threw them off the train at Doncaster.

Mick got a labouring job in a Doncaster factory, and May, as everyone called her then, got herself a job sewing knickers and bras at another Doncaster factory. One of the guys with whom Mick worked brought him down to the rugby club.

At the time, we were a fairly decent rugby team with a five-star social side. We had parties and discos, people from outside the club would pay over the odds to members to get them guest tickets. My best friend Taylor His given name is Sean, but even his mum called him Taylor; his wife, Jill, pretty much ran the social side.

Lots of the parties were fancy dress; this one was special. My mum made me a little bow-peep costume. I nicked my two-year-old nephew’s doggy on wheels, disguised it as a sheep, and won the competition.

What I didn’t remember was that by then Jill had befriended May and was heavily engaged in rehabilitating her and getting her to boot out her toxic husband. That night, I got paralytic. Went back to Taylor and Jill’s place in their car; May was also in the back.

At the time they only had a two-bedroom house; Ella staying with them there was supposedly a secret; no one else knew at the time, May was pretty much living with them full time and getting herself back onside for a decent life.

I swear I don’t remember any of this, but Ella now insists that we actually fucked. Ella-May tells me that as soon as I was in bed with her, I had a hard on, and as Mick has a cock like a matchstick, it seemed very rude to waste it. Her words, not mine.

The party had been in my honour. It was my last game. I was leaving to work on a voluntary service overseas project teaching engineering skills to the indigenous populations of several South Sea islands. Up until today, that was the best year of my life.

If I’m honest, and I think I need to be now, if I’d had the bottle to ask her, Ella May would have jumped at the chance to come with me. I should have jumped at the chance of jumping her bones. I didn’t have the bottle to ask her, thus committing the two of us to a loveless life for the last 15 years. What an absolute shit for brains idiot I can be. Jesus Christ, I so need her to love me. because, to be sure, I love her.

There was a guy at the rugby club Don Blackman, who was always on the lookout to make a buck. When I came home on my first 6-month leave, he was more than interested in my tale of supplying drinking water to thousands.

I had a very willing work force. There was a lot of work there lots of VSO grant money to buy pumps, pipework, unbelievably the big companies would not supply at anything like the right prices, their salesmen thought we were all monkeys. As it was grant money they refused to budge on their margins and at the time, there was pretty much no one else.

Don and I started a company. We looked like two kids scraping to make a start Don made the right noises and the same salesmen fell over themselves cutting their margins to supply us

As soon as the banks saw it was grant-backed, the cash didn’t just flow; it flooded in. Only seven years later, we sold out to one of the big boys in pumping, I had a seven-figure bank balance. Don, my business partner, wanted more; I didn’t.

I figured I had enough for my needs for the rest of my life. I bought a house in the Surrey village of Arbinger, and I bought my little bit of heaven that fell to earth in Wales.

Don is a very rich man these days, its what he wants, the very best of luck to him.

 

In my sincere opinion, Surrey is a shit place to live, so I sold the house in Surrey and made another pile of görükle escort money. That’s by my standards. I’ve got a lump sum of money, and I live very well indeed off the investment interest.

I’ve got two cars, three bikes, six if I include dads, and no one at all to share them with. I’ve just been tossed a lifeline by my best friend’s wife; the other end is tied to a bit of a she-devil. I know I need to hold on to this.

 

Ella May has gone for a bath and is changing. She wants to go out for dinner. I’ve asked her questions, but she wants me to give her a bit of time. I’ve had a shower, and I’ve replaced my rag with a new t-shirt staring a photo of a pint of Guinness and a parrot.

 

This is going through my head, and I’m shitting myself. It’s fairly obvious to me that the B I think my new squeeze is a little confused. Rick, my dear man we are going to a fetish club in Sheffield. A cab will be here in just over half an hour.”

 

Jill took the con. “Rick, the last time I tried this, it ended with you walking away from her and my best friend Ella in tears for a week. Ella looked at the floor, I started babbling. Shut the fuck up, Rick; we haven’t got time. Back then, you told Taylor you liked her on more than one occasion.”

 

“About ten times a day, seven days a week, Taylor chipped in.”

 

Jill carried on, “I distinctly remember you punching Joansy’s lights out for calling her a slapper. She is my best mate ever, and I know her better than anyone. I know who she is, and I know you. I know she enjoys playing the whip, or rather taws-wielding sadistic bitch of your dreams, I know the soft bitch fell head over heels in love with you the day she first set eyes on you. You’re just right for her, silly man. You’re more submissive than Taylor here, and this girl over here knows absolutely what’s best for a naughty boy like you. For fucks sake man, just give it a whirl.”

 

I’m confused.

 

OK, I’ll give you that. When the Bastard, from Belfast, last hit, my best friend Taylor got himself locked in a cell for the night. He battered the bastard. I was so proud of him that he got a free shag on the back seat of our car when I picked him up from the Clink.

 

“And a blow job when she got me home,” said Taylor.”

 

Jill gave him a death-ray glare. I was obviously looking a bit shell-shocked. Taylor, show him your cock. Taylor dropped his pants. His tadger was locked in a tubular stainless steel cage.

 

What my soon-to-be whipped and bleeding worm is trying to say to Rick, my sweet, is that he doesn’t get much. Taylor, I will tell your very macho, very well-hung mate here why I keep your fun bar locked up tight if you don’t shut the fuck up. Trust me, Rick, he gets plenty; he just simply isn’t allowed to throw it over his wrist any more.

 

“So, explanation time. First and foremost, this is not a whorehouse, and my best friend is not a high-class whore who beats worthless men for a living. It’s a fucking club. An extremely exclusive club, and perhaps fucking is the worst adjective I could have used. Ooh; you didn’t let him fuck you, Ella, did you?” The woman, who was now apparently my new squeeze, looked a little sheepish.

 

“Oh, you silly bitch, you did. Did she beat your arse first?”

“Oh yes,” I said.

“Yeah right, Let me see, Oh, fuck, she did, didn’t she? Jill was Tracing lines with her finger, she said, “That’s a cane; there must be a dozen of them, but what’s this?” Oh, you poor fucker Rick. She used that bastard taws on you. Didn’t she. 12 with that.”

“Er yes.”

“Ooh, You poor sod. I suppose you deserved a shag for that. We will have to relax that rule anyway if my plan for my best friend to seduce you works and you move in here.”

 If I’ve got this right, Jill, I don’t think I want to live here. Ella’s face fell. I think I want to buy us a place of our own or at least rent somewhere just for me and Ella-May to call home.

 

You’ve got some money stashed away?” said Taylor. Yeah, a bit, mate. Remember when Dave Holmes made all that money, his first big break?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I owned half the company.”

 

“Oh, just a bit, then.”

 

“yup!”

 

Then heykel escort the doorbell rang again. I opened the door. “Taxi for Taylor”, said the guy at the door. I grabbed Ella’s arm, and we didn’t budge. If we ain’t spoiling any plans, can we stay here and make a plan or two ourselves?

I’ve got to work out how I’m going to introduce my mistress, first to my mum, then to the rest of the world. I don’t want to hide who I am any more. Ella’s eyes started leaking. It wasn’t crying; she told me that I couldn’t contradict my mistress, could I?

 

We waved them off, and I said, “Are you going to show me this playroom then?”

 

“No! Let’s have something to eat. Then I’ll show you around the house. “Let’s just order a takeaway, eat, sit, chat, and just be with each other.”

 

“OK Darling, but only if I can kiss your nipples for pudding. You are going to be kissing my nipples ten times a day for the rest of your life, baby.”

 

“I don’t know any food places any more, Ella; you order, I’ll pay.”

“That’s a deal.”

So we sat and talked a bit. The food came: Chinese, Kevin’s love tip for the day. Don’t eat hot curries if there is any chance at all of eating pussy after. It will fuck your night right up when she jumps out of bed to stick her fiery minge in the kitchen sink.

The food was good. The pudding was better, I could eat Ella’s nipples and fanny batter three times a day seen days a week. I was in heaven; I took Ella with me for the visit. She has very big, easy-to-press buttons.

She told me the story of the house. Mick won a fairly decent amount in the lottery. He had purposely dragged his feet with the divorce. His actions didn’t go well for him, he contested the divorce, and ran his own defence.

When the photos and medical records came out the judge told Mick if he didn’t stop wasting the court’s time he’d send him down for contempt of court As Ella cleaned up her act, she became more and more popular at the club. There were two distinct social factions in the club; the married couples and the single men.

Most of the single men managed to bridge the gap. So this was not at all divisive Being a rugby club back then there were no single women other than at parties and discos. Its a testament to the girls that, they refused to give up on one of their own. May was simply not allowed to slip away and hide.

There was a guy who played at the club called Dunmore; he is a solicitor. He liked the new and improved Ella a lot he liked the special love she trats me to now. He had a poor marriage at the time and needed a bit of love. Ella was happy to be his bit on the side but she wanted no more than that from him.

Much later, after we were wed I asked her why she didn’t look to snare him. She gave me a sour look. “Fuck me, I’ve married the village idiot” he isn’t you; duffer!

He was, I suppose, what the Americans call a family law specialist. He took Ella’s case on a no win no fee basis. By the time Mick finally settled, he had bought the winning ticket. And Dunmore set about separating him from his winnings. A few months later we were in the pub, I was trying to thank him. “I wanted the judge to order him to sell his vital organs;” Rick he said. A hundred and forty five thou ain’t much for a baby girl is it!

 

During the process, Dunmore smelled a rat and took Mick back to court. Ella and Dunmore won. Mick lost out bigtime, nearly all of it to Ella. Ella bought the house–well, half of it. Then it went wrong for her again; the firm she worked for went bust. She couldn’t pay the mortgage. Dunmore, who is as sick a puppy as me, helped Ella set up the syndicate that effectively time shares the top floor. Both Taylor and Jill bought a share each, so Ella didn’t have to; she was skint but she still kept her house. Then, with the blessing of the other shareholders, she started hosting the parties.

We talked about getting a place of our own. Having had to scrimp and save her whole life made her question every penny. The idea of going house-hunting without kissing a bank manager’s arse first worried her. I eventually managed to convince her I did have the money, and it wasn’t going to disappear into a bookie’s bursa otele gelen escort till or the nearest Boozer. I threatened her with drawing it all out in pennies and making her shovel it from one side of the room to the other.

 

I still had worries; I wondered if Ella and Jill were pulling the wall over my eyes. If Ella was skint, where did the thousand pounds worth of top-end latex fetish fashion she was wearing this very minute come from? She must have someone buying her stuff. Would she tell me in her own time? Would she insist on keeping him as an occasional lover? I didn’t like that last thought one bit; for the first time in my life, I felt possessive about someone.

 

We talked about my family and introducing her. She was shitting herself about meeting my brother Sean and Shirley, his wife, again. She was having a bad enough time thinking the two of them would have told my mother bad things about her. It was pure bollocks, of course. Like a lot in the club my brother would have happily kicked Mick until he stopped bleeding. Like the rest of the club, he felt sorry for the poor girl who had been married to him.

 

I showed her photo after photo of my place in Wales. She was a bit nervous about that as well. Poor Ella had always lived in cities or towns. To her eyes, all that green stuff looked positively scary. The one thing that switched a light on for her was featured in a couple of the photos: my neighbour’s horses. Again, my new squeeze proved his absolute ignorance of all things countryside when I said you could have a horse if we lived there.

 

Don’t be silly; they cost far too much, don’t they?

 

You’re being silly, love. They practically give away old hunters who are too old to hunt. It’s keeping them that costs money. There are fifty acres there spare to keep one on. You won’t be able to keep our next-door neighbour Seren, away if you have a horse or two, she has six I think.

Ella straddled my lap, looked into my eyes, and said, “After I’ve punished you for your indiscretions, you’re going to fuck me until I’m bandy-legged.

The only problem that remained was the upkeep of this place. She was worried the others would see her as letting everyone down. I pointed out that if she gave up the hosting, as I would prefer her to do, the parties could go on. Just rotate the hosting duties. The others will be cool as a polar bear’s pantry with it. Jill will see to it that anyone who isn’t

 

So we went to see the playroom. The house was pretty much a four-bedroom detached house. The shareholders have put some extra cash in and done a loft conversion. All the loft is devoted to play, and there is a dressing room where the girls keep some of their fetish clothing. Everywhere else upstairs is devoted to S it pretty much belongs to Jan. It fits Taylor like a glove. She locks him in it. Then she fucks other men in front of him so Ella delighted in telling me. When she is carrying a full load, she moves Taylor from the cage to the chair. Once he is in there, he has no alternative but to eat whatever is put in front of him.

 

She caught him playing away from home once. I wondered if he was still paying for it. Ella said “don’t be daft. If he really didn’t want to, he wouldn’t come back a second time. Ella also told me Taylor hadn’t been allowed inside Jill since that day. Strange guy, my best mate.

 

“Who was she?” I asked idly.”

 

“You really have no idea, have you?”

 

“Pardon, am I missing something?”

 

“Only the elephant in the room! Rick, my sweet man. Your best friend is bisexual. Jill knew when she married him. That’s why they are still together, idiot. It was a man; she would have killed them both if it had been a woman. A guy he was at university with was balls deep in Taylor’s arse when Jill found them. I think Taylor arranged it so Jill could find him. He’s as bad as you for asking for what he really wants.”

 

“What does he want?” I said, my face agog.

 

“What every girl wants is a big, fat cock inside him.”

 

“So that’s why his cock is under lock and key?”

 

No, you fuckwit. He’s under lock and key because, he wants his cock to be under lock and key. He wants to be owned. Jill owns his cock; she owns him. Taylor is a happy man, gurl, slut. Whatever, he has a very happy mistress too.

 

“Why the forced cum eating, then?”

 

“That’s a bit more of a difficult question, Rick; it’s something Jill doesn’t like much.”

 

“Why does she make him do it then?”

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