Pete and I

As I walked I wondered what Blackcaps in Ashton could possibly mean. Something sports-related I guessed, the name of a team maybe. I'd ask my dad later.

ooo000ooo

I found a nice dress that was smart and fitted my figure well. I'm not overweight but I have an hour glass figure [so mum says] with obvious hips and breasts, so I do watch my weight. I'm nicely tanned on the legs, so I wouldn't need tights but I bought some new underwear as well. At home I have a very lightweight long white soft scarf that I'd wear if it were a little cool. I'm not a rings person – I don't like rings or a watch on me but I have a nice gold necklace from my grandma and some smart white shoes with a medium heel. I'm above average height too, quite tall really, with short mousy coloured hair.

When I got home with my purchases and had walked from the bus stop I met mum as she was putting her car away in the garage.

'Been shopping?'

I resisted the temptation to tell her that was a silly question, given the bags I was carrying, and gave her a grin that told all.

'You're going out aren't you?' she said.

I told her all about it and she was appalled that I had said those things to Pete about his appearance but she was pleased I had succeeded.

'But it's not until Friday, mum.'

I went up to my room and undressed. I thought I would try on the underwear as well as the dress. Mum poked her head around the door before I had unwrapped the dress and saw me in bra and panties.

'Are you dressing this evening?'

'No, no,' I answered, 'I'm just trying it all on to check it all, you know, looks right.'

'Call me when you got the dress on, Gwen.'

'Right.'

Mum said it looked really well and I put on the necklace and a pair of plain gold earrings. The dress had very short sleeves and was about five inches above my knees. Well, he wanted to see my legs; the dress had small buttons down the front and after mum had gone I unfastened two more so that my cleavage was very visible.

'Gwen! Gwen!' I heard mum calling from downstairs so I went to the top of the stairs.

'Yes?' I called.

'Have you still got the dress on, Gwen?' mum asked me.

'Yes, why?'

'Your dad's just got home, come down and let him see it, please.'

I went down and stood before him.

'Give us a twirl then.'

I span on my heel for him.

'You'll knock him dead,' dad said.

'That's not quite the plan,' I countered, as, laughing, I ran back up to my room. I put everything away carefully, undressing completely, brushed my hair and went downstairs. Mum said the meal was just about ready and asked me to call dad.

'He must be upstairs somewhere,' she said.

Soon the three of us were together having our meal and chatting away. It no longer seemed quite so strange to be naked in front of my parents but that didn't lessen the eroticism of the experience for me. I had always tried to drive my sexual appetite or at least my perception of it into the background. Now it seemed to have a licence to be openly much more in the emotional and physical foreground of my life. Not only was I enjoying this but also I realised appetites can expand and contract. I was aware that my own sexual hunger was growing fast in this new climate at home.

I told them a little more of what had passed between Pete and me. Dad said he hoped I had found someone who would be important to me. I remembered something Pete had said just before he left.

'Dad, if someone said to you something like: "I've got to go, Blackcaps in Ashton", what would you think they meant? Is it a football team or something?'

He was silent for a minute. 'Ashton's a pretty little village about twelve to fifteen miles form here. There's some nice woodland walks, I believe. I've never been. As for Blackcaps, I've no idea. Could be a team or a club of some kind I suppose.'

We spent some time talking about Max who was due home from some snowboarding event in Italy sometime early next week. Imprecision was an art form with Max and we never quite knew what he was up to. I think mum and dad worry about him more than they admit. Somewhat later whilst we were still at the table, dad suddenly said: 'You do know blackcaps are a kind of bird, don't you, Gwen.'

I didn't know.

'That's it then,' I almost shouted in eureka mode. 'This morning he was drawing on a piece of paper and I looked at what he was drawing and eventually I realised they were little birds in flight. He told me they were redshank. I think he likes to watch birds. Perhaps there are blackcaps in the woods at Ashton, dad.'

'I'm virtually certain you're right, Gwen. You'll be able to surprise him a little.'

After the meal I said I would clear everything away and load the dishwasher so mum and dad went off to the lounge. When I eventually joined them, mum was sitting on the sofa and dad was straightening up after bending to light the coal fire he had been laying.

He smiled at me as he heard the door open as I came in.

'I thought we might be grateful for a bit of extra warmth in here this evening,' he said. 'Oh, thanks for clearing up too, Gwen.'

I went over to him to give him a peck on the cheek and a hug as I often do. I felt his hand come round the small of my back. There was no intention in my mind, no premeditation, but spontaneously I then kissed him briefly on the lips, my lips alighting only momentarily on his. I moved my face away but felt his response as his hands moved to my bare bottom, pulling me closer so his stiffening rod was warm against my stomach. I kissed him again, for longer this time and as we finally parted I ran my fingers down his cock and pulled away. He released me and I flopped down in one of the armchairs as he went to sit on the sofa with mum.

Watching them was even worse for me I was so sexually alive. Mum and dad began to kiss passionately as dad fondled her breasts, bending occasionally to suckle on one of her distended nipples. She groaned as he did so and I couldn't help starting to finger myself – not surreptitiously and quite urgently, roughly, so that I was hurting myself too as I pulled and stretched. They probably couldn't see a great deal for the heavily upholstered chunky arm of my armchair but the posture of my body coupled with the look in my eyes and the position of my arm must have made it clear what I was doing. I was aware too that they both glanced across at me now and again.

'Why don't you come over and join us, Gwen?' mum suggested.

I wanted to, there was no doubt about that. Several things were flashing through my mind. I wasn't sure where or how far this would lead but I felt that if sex with my father became a possibility I would want it, I would want it very much if mum gave her approval. I wanted her to be there too. One thing was sure: if I went across to the sofa and sat next to dad so that mum and I were either side of him then I felt that my participation in some form of sexual activity with them would take place.

I also thought about Pete and smiled at the idea that you can't reasonably be accused of being untrue to someone you've never even been out with. It was Wednesday; Friday was still some way off and any physical contact between Pete and myself would come, possibly, all in good time and certainly not until some way into our futures.

Lazily I rose to my feet and walked across to the sofa and sat down snuggled up to my dad, in full contact with his firm body. He reached his arm round my shoulders and I slipped just slightly across his right shoulder. His hand moved round and was able to touch my full, taut breast. His fingers rested on my nipple as he turned his head to mum. They kissed again passionately and as I watched I could feel my heart beating fast. My hand moved across his thigh and I touched his cock and my mum's fingers. Feeling mine there, she squeezed my hand and then moved her hand away. I continued to stroke and touch him.

'I love you, Phil,' my mum said as they broke their kiss.

Dad turned back to me and kissed me as lovers do, our tongues entwined and both his hands were now on my breasts. He must know my consent is total I thought as I twisted my body against him, writhing with need.

I tried to speak when our lips parted but my voice seemed lost. I tried again and managed, very quietly, almost a croak: 'Touch me.'

Dad looked at mum.

'It's fine, she needs you,' she said and he turned back to me and kissed me again, gently rocking me almost as his fingers moved to my crutch. I parted my legs slightly, showing him the way, and his fingers touched and gently massaged my cunt lips without actually entering me. I sighed and groaned and when I groaned he started to move his hand away.

'No, carry on,' I whispered.

Mum was watching us and after a while she slipped from the sofa and knelt on the carpet in front of dad, between his legs. She leaned forwards and kissed him as her breasts hung forward on his chest. Slowly she licked her way down his chest, taking each of his pearl-like hard little nipples into her mouth and nibbling them before proceeding down to his genitals. Beth took dad's wonderful, iron hard cock into her mouth. She sucked and licked. She pulled all the skin back from his glans and sucked it like a lollipop and then took his full length inside her mouth. Cupping his balls in her hand too her sucking became more vigorous and I felt dad's body stiffen and then I realised he was in full orgasm as he pumped himself into mum's mouth.

Greg and I had 'screwed' as he called it about a dozen times during our unsatisfactory relationship: he had never asked me for or initiated any sexual contact other than fairly quick fucks with him on top of me followed by rolling off me and smoking a cigarette while he watched me dress. He did like to watch me dress and undress and I will admit that for me that was the most erotic part of our lovemaking. I had never participated in anything like this: in terms of oral [and anal] sex I was still a virgin.

It was at this moment that something happened that took me so entirely by surprise that everything I thought I knew about my parents changed seismically. Nudity and sexual foreplay were already pretty startling developments for me: I was not ready for what came next. And yet I don't regret it as I achieved a level of pleasure that I didn't believe existed and which some people almost certainly never experience in a lifetime.

Dad pulled me gently into his arms and I lay on top of him, on my back, partly cradled but resting with him as he held me in his arms. I felt my mum lifting my legs so they were over my dad's legs, the spread of my legs now leaving my cunt accessible to both my parents. My bottom was partly supported by dad's upper legs too.

Mum leaned up and forwards and kissed me, on the lips, just gently. She sucked on my nipples and pushed her tongue into my navel, tickling me a little.

'Say no at any time, Gwen. All right?'

I nodded and mum began to lick around the top of my legs, occasionally touching my labia. I responded with a slow squirming action and mum began to probe into my cunt. I felt her find my clitoris and the next few minutes were exquisite as she brought me to a wonderful climax. Throughout most of this dad and I had kissed and he had pulled on my nipples and breasts as I cried out with pleasure. I could feel his replenished cock pushing up against my anus. I was exhausted but that hunger had been satisfied in an unexpected way as my mother's probing tongue continued to pleasure me magically. I was soaking wet and so deliciously soft. I felt open to the world, to anyone who wanted. I bathed, held firm by my dad, in the illicit pleasures of my mother's sexuality.

Mum stood up and dad gently moved me off him.

'I think that's enough for tonight, Beth,' he said. He brought me a small glass of brandy.

'Drink it slowly, you'll soon feel calmer. My pulse rate and my breathing were returning to normal and we relaxed for another hour in front of the fire-glow. We talked about all sorts of quite mundane things, as lovers often do. At one point mum told me how beautiful I was and I glowed with pleasure. Later she came across, bent over the back of the armchair and whispered in my ear:

'You and Jenny Ki are the two most beautiful cunts I've ever seen.'

I was puzzled; Jenny was a neighbour who lived further down our road. She was Korean, although she was born here in Oxfordshire, and I liked her. Not only that, I knew she liked me and I often consulted her when I was a little younger about things I was too embarrassed to discuss with my mum. Yet mum's comment seemed an enigma. She smiled and the conversations moved on.

ooo000ooo

On Tuesday morning I got up early and dressed to drive mum to work so I could have the car in the afternoon. A colleague was going to bring mum home. In the kitchen, dressed in her smart work clothes, mum seemed quite serious.

'Gale, if you want any of this or all of it to stop, just say. I would never want you to do something just to please us. It must be what you are willing and what you want to do. Do you know what I mean?'

'Yes, mum.' I paused, gathering my thoughts and words. 'I love being naked, I love seeing you and dad. I loved everything last night. But how can I tell if I don't want any more? It's like asking someone who has never seen an aubergine in their life whether they like the taste of fried aubergines! If you had told me what was going to happen last night I would have been disgusted and I would not have come anywhere near either of you. But it was absolutely wonderful. I've never enjoyed the feelings of my body as I did last night. I was so on fire and the things you both said – my sexual thoughts became so real and so thrilling.'

'For us all,' said mum, hugging me and holding me tight. 'Nothing will hurt you, Gwen, I promise,' she continued. 'I want you to be with us both again and we can show you some more exotic fruits now you've tasted aubergines with me.'

She laughed, grabbed my arm and we left the house. I drove. I came straight home. I went to mum and dad's bedroom and opened the drawer of her bedside cabinet. I took out the second green volume carefully and took it to my room. Propping my pillows up against the bed's headboard, I made myself comfy.

The first double page immediately made it clear this book was different to the first one. There were photos of my mother, usually next to another man and often the photo featured several other couples as well. Many photos also included my dad with another woman beside him. What's more I knew most of the couples very well: they were all close friends of my parents – people I had known all my life. Generally they were in their normal weekend clothes; in some people were clearly dressed for the pool; in others they were dressed more for the winter.

I worked out that there were about fifteen couples in the photos but soon realised that the couples I knew so well were never standing with their husbands or wives as I understood things. After a while, and I actually sat there carefully counting, I realised that there were nine couples in all that I knew well, including mum and dad. The couples that were not familiar to me only appeared in the older photos and there were several ways to recognise these older pictures – by the appearance of mum and dad; by the clothes and by the quality of the finish of the photographs themselves. I realised five couples had moved on, to other jobs and other towns, while I was very young.

Were mum and dad involved with these couples in some kind of partner sharing group? I turned over the page. Similar photos followed but the couples were naked and always indoors. There were group photos too; just couples standing together. Occasionally the male had his hand on her shoulder or the woman had an arm round his waist. They might have a drink in hand or be holding hands. That was all. Geoff and Mary Alsman often seemed to 'exchange' with mum and dad, as did Lee and Jenny Ki. Lee was, well, if I'm honest, Lee was someone I sometimes slept with in my fantasy world: in reality I felt shy, gauche and instantly forgettable in his company.

That was it: just six pages but they told it all and I was sure that my deductions were about right. I also now had a good idea what mum and dad were doing on Thursday night. Or at least I thought I did.

I replaced the album and drove in to college for eleven o'clock. At my work station in our base classroom was a small, flat parcel wrapped in brown paper. I opened it, glancing cautiously in Pete's direction. He grinned back: I noticed straightaway that his little beard was no more. The fringe was still there though. A compromise enhanced by my little gift. Inside was a small properly framed and glazed drawing on parchment type paper of a group of redshank, white wing bars clearly flashing as they whirled away over a marshy reed-bed. The scene was almost alive with movement. In pencil the picture was entitled 'Redshank over Morley' and signed, simply, 'P.J.' – Pete Jenkinson.

I walked over and thanked him.

'Thanks, Pete, thanks very much. It's lovely – you're quite an artist.'

'I like drawing birds,' he said.

'Blackcaps are birds,' I said, with a smile.

'Well done. You worked it out.'

'Dad helped. I bought a light blue dress for Friday,' I added, smiling my best smile for him.

'I'm looking forward to it,' he said, a shyness in his dealings with me still apparent from the way he spoke.

'So am I.' We left it at that. At lunchtime I went off with a group of my girl friends and we finished at two. I drove home with the windows down as it was another hot afternoon. It won't spoil the rest of the story to tell you I've still got my 'Redshanks' picture – it's on the desk in front of me now.

ooo000ooo

I went upstairs. The house seemed airless and I threw open my bedroom windows, stripped off and lay spread-eagled naked on my bed, lazing in the afternoon sunshine that was invading my room. Three o'clock. I went across to my parents' bedroom again and took out the third volume of the three albums and, as it was cool and shady there, I took it back to my warm room.

I sat on the edge of my bed and opened the album. Immediately I realised that this was the most private and personal of the three albums. I almost closed it instantly feeling guilty that I was looking at something I should not see. I lay back on the bed to consider. The trouble was that I couldn't undo what had been done. I couldn't now not see what I had just glimpsed, albeit briefly. I had seen my mother having sex with Geoff Alsman; I had seen that his cock was partly inside her cunt; I had seen the smile on her face. I knew it wasn't a posed shot from the sequence of other photos that I hadn't looked at closely. I also knew that a third person had taken these photos.

I suppose that after the other two albums I wasn't surprised by all this – I had assumed some of it anyway. I was surprised though to find these images that proved it and I realised that they, the group or whatever obviously approved the fact that some record existed. The large close-up I had somehow latched onto first had not been taken without the awareness and consent of the participants in my opinion.

After a few minutes, I'm not sure how long, I picked up the book again and looked more closely at the pictures. Geoff and mum were clearly pleasuring each other openly. On one photo she was sucking on his cock as he was groping her cunt with most of his fingers. The expression on her face was one suggestive of extreme agitation, close to orgasm perhaps, frozen into a silent scream by the fast shutter speed that had captured this brief moment.

I turned the page to the first double page spread and saw more pictures of my mum, with Lee Ki and with Roy Hope. Mum was on all fours on a rug in Jenny's lounge – a room I knew well – with Roy clearly screwing her ass. It was significant that my mum was with another partner, Roy Hope, having anal sex in the house of a third couple, Jenny and Lee. I was transfixed by everything about this picture: not only because its animal sexuality turned me on but because I liked Roy very much. He was my parents' age [just under 40 still] and he and Penny had been on holiday with us and since my late teens I had had a bit of a crush on him. Although in the photo mum was clearly already penetrated by his penis, some four inches of his cock were still visible linking the lovers together. I couldn't help displace my mum in the photo and imagine myself with Roy. So in my excitement I was now squatting on the bed working my hand into my very wet cunt. From other photos I knew Roy was well endowed and I was very turned on by this one picture, mesmerised probably.