The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 07

Melissa and Chloe came out of the bedroom. They looked fuckable. My prick leapt.

"I've got somewhere to stay."

"What?" Chloe said. "So quickly."

"Yes. We own a small house in Bedminster. I didn't realise."

"There are no small houses in Bedminster." Melissa said, collecting their coats from the hallway.

"Where's yours?"

"It got burnt on Friday night and I think the police are holding it as evidence."

"We'll go to the markets." She tossed Chloe's coat to her. "Have you money."

"I can get some."

"Are you a magician, like Michael?" Chloe asked.

"No. But we do have a small safe."

I went into the main bedroom and opened the built in wardrobe's door. I removed Roddrego's suitcase and some shoes, lifted out the wooden base on one side to expose the floor safe. I spun the combination dial. I open the door. Inside the shallow cavity were some envelopes, a small red exercise book and some rolls of banknote's secured by rubber bands. I took one roll and counted the contents. Fifty pounds. I felt inside the safe for the biro that I knew was always there and wrote in the book that I had taken the sum of fifty pounds.

I closed the safe, spun the dial and replaced everything as I had found them.

I went back into the front room.

"Come on let's go shopping."

Chapter 6

We drank our tea and Linda told her tale.

I could not be angry with her, after all she had been through in the past few weeks. Still, Paul had got a hard on. But then he always woke up with a hard on. I knew from experience that it had a mind of its own and had been awoken by its attempting to gain entry into one of my holes on more than one occasion.

Sometimes I would take it inside of me. Especially at the weekend. Paul probably didn't realise how often he had had me while he slept. As to the second time. Well he had aroused her. I know the feeling when he opens you, enter you and takes it out without seeing to your needs. I tried to put myself in Linda's place. Paul had entered her and taken it out almost immediately. She hadn't made love since her rape. It had awoken desires she needed to fulfil.

I held her hand across the table.

"Fucking lesbians."

I looked up. A girl in motor cycle leathers stood at the end of our table, legs open, hands on her hips.

"I beg you're pardon?" I said.

"Pardon?" She looked like she had one hell of a hangover. I sympathised.

"You're a pair of lesbians."

"No. We're not." Linda smiled at her. "Please fuck off."

"Who do you think you're talking to?" She had flaming red hair and what looked to be a temper to match.

"Look." I said. "If you're trying to pick us up, you failed. I can't see how many could resist you with a technique like yours."

"Thank fuck for that." She sat on a chair next to Linda. "You're not going near Leeds are you?"

"Well. I don't. No." I can be decisive. "What's wrong?"

She suddenly looked very young and defenceless.

"How old are you?" Linda asked.

"Nineteen." Red head replied.

"The truth." I looked her in the eye.

"Sixteen." She mumbled.

"Are you sure?" She didn't look it.

"Yes."

I didn't push it.

"What are you doing, on the roads this time of year?"

She looked from one to the other of us.

"I'm so tired." She said, breathing in deeply.

"You look hungry." I said.

"Please."

She suddenly looked what she was, a dirty, tired, hungry schoolgirl. Who, I thought, should be at home studying for the first, and most important, set of school exams. They could make allowances for you in higher education. You were just a examination number, out of tens of thousands, at her age.

I ordered her a pie and chips and a mug of coffee. Linda and I had a fresh pot of tea.

Chapter 7 (Paul)

We had been to the street market and I returned wearing a black, imitation leather, below the ass jacket. It had a woollen insert, which you could remove in the warmer weather. We caught a taxi back to the pub around the corner from the flat at a quarter to two. We rushed inside and ordered some drinks. Beer for me, Bacardi and Coke for the girls.

After two quick drinks in succession we walked back to the flat. Hudson was in the hallway talking to a man that I'd never seen before. Tall, thin with a round, almost what could be described as pretty, face. He had a high pitched voice. He made me shudder.

His name was Clive and he was an old friend of Geoff (Hudson).

They were both carrying some wine. Hudson explained that there was a Band concert in the early evening and that the Navy would bring Michael and Roddrego after Dinner. He had the rest of the day off and was going to have a few drinks with his friend. He looked as if he'd already had a few.

"Come on." I said to the Girls as I headed for the stairs. "Have a good afternoon." I called over my shoulder as I followed the girls upstairs watching as of their asses lifted their coat tails from side to side. I felt my prick stirring. No. I mustn't. I had to speak to Jenny.

In the flat I collected and opened a bottle of Champagne from the fridge. There were three in there. Hudson must have restocked. Yes, the wine rack was full as well. Melissa collected some wineglasses from the glass cabinet in the dining room and we all sat down on the sofa, me in the middle and settled down to watch TV.

After about thirty seconds Melissa put her hand on my balls, cupping and squeezing them. Chloe rested her head on my shoulder and ran her fingertips up and down the length of my prick. I closed my eyes and sighed. I opened them to look into Melissa's eyes from the range of an inch as she placed her lips on mine. Her tongue first licked then pushed at mine. I relaxed them, allowing her tongue entry, then captured it with my lips and sucked it hard into my mouth. I relaxed and she pulled her tongue from me. I followed it into her mouth with my own, licking her teeth, her gums and the insides of her lips. She pushed her tongue against mine as if to push me out. I fenced against it with the tip of my own massaging her lips with my own as I did so. She grabbed my wrist and held my hand against her breast. I weighed it and squeezed it and rubbed the nipple through her clothes with a fingertip.

I could feel fingers at the fastenings of my trousers. Cool air on my prick for a second before it became emmersed in warmth and moisture. I reached down with my other hand and held the back of Chloe's head as it bobbed up and down. Melissa pulled her mouth from mine and looked down at Chloe.

"She doesn't hang about, does she?" She snuggled up against me with her head on my shoulder. "I wanted to do that."

I put my arm around her and squeezed her breast.

She gave me a sip of wine.

"Do you think Hudson takes it or gives it." Melissa asked.

"What do you mean?" I was shocked. Hudson had medals for bravery.

"They're queers." She went on.

I let out a long sigh as a wave of pleasure hit me.

"No! Hmm yes."

Chloe looked up.

Melissa slid to her knees.

"Move over little sister." She said her hand on my prick. "It's big sisters turn now."

Chloe looked disappointed as she sat by my side. I kissed her, tasting the salt of my pre come.

"You were great." I said kissing her again and feeling her breasts.

She lifted her skirt and pulled off her white knickers and long wollen tights.

"I must wash these she said placing my hand between her legs. I pushed my finger inside her then removed it and felt for her clitoris. I found the little hard button and started rubbing it. Slowly at first then faster as my own orgasm approached. Her breaths, and mine was coming in short sharp snatches. I could feel myself building up, boiling over and shooting, shooting, shooting as Chloe cried out and clamped her thighs tight around my hand.

I ran my fingers through Melissa's hair and she looked up at us, come dribbling from the sides of her mouth.

We all looked at my prick, glistening with its coating of saliva and come. Melissa licked her lips and picking it up put it back inside her mouth. I could feel her sucking and licking me. She stopped and lifted her head again. Whilst it was still covered in saliva it was free of come.

Melissa sat on the sofa.

She looked down to where my hand was still held between Chloe's thighs.

Chapter 8 (Jenny)

We drove south to a market town called Bridgwater and turned left. It was one forty five when we arrived at the gates of the disused Second World War runway. Slabs of concrete, with weeds growing through the cracks, stretched as far as I could see. It had looked so different bouncing up and down on Paul's Willie in the darkness after a trip to the cinema. It had been my idea to stop somewhere; after all, he had made me come twice during the film. I could see a number of buildings about two thirds of the way down the runway. I drove closer then pulled in to what looked like a hard standing. Some kids were flying their kites in the distance and I could just make out the tower of a Church behind them.

We all climbed from the car and made our way towards the largest hanger. There were two other hangers, both with parts of their roofs missing and a low administration block behind it. Over the opposite side of the runway was a whitewashed, three-storey building with large glass windows, now smashed by local vandals.

There were three motorbikes on their stands near the hanger entrance. We crept past the site of a bonfire keeping close to the wall of the hanger until we came to a window. I looked inside.

A girl was on her back, her legs held open by two men whilst a third was pumping himself in and out of her vagina. A second girl stood to one side. The front of her jeans was unzipped and her hand was inside her knickers where it was furiously rubbing her clitoris.

With a final thrust the man came inside the girl. He pulled out of her vagina leaving it gaping open, stood upright and pissed on her. The other two men took out their pricks and did the same.

One of the men held the girl who was masturbating as she came.

The four adjusted their clothing and made their way to the hanger door and their motorbikes leaving the girl on the floor.

We waited until we heard the sound of the motorbikes receding in the distance then entered the hanger.

The young girl lay, naked from the waist down, on her side facing away from the door.

I knelt down and put my hand on her shoulder.

"Please, please." She sobbed. "No more."

"It's alright." I tried to sound as soothing as possible. "It's over. You're safe."

She turned and looked at me, then over my shoulder at the others.

She burst into tears.

"Mary said it would be fun." She blurted between sobs. "Just a weekend. Ride on some bikes. She couldn't come in the end. It wasn't meant to be like this."

She buried her head in my shoulder and sobbed inconsolably was what seemed like ages. I let her get it out of her system.

I knew first hand what men were capable of when they had a helpless female before them. Gallantry? A thing of the past.

Her sobbing had subsided. I lifted her chin and looked deep into her eyes.

"We had better call the police." I said. "We saw what the last three did to you. What's your name? Mine's Jenny, this is Linda and this is Bernadette."

"Rosemary, everybody calls me Rosy."

"Here. I don't want to get involved with no police." Bernadette said.

"No, please don't call the police." Rosy pleaded.

"But after what they did to you?" Linda was aghast.

"Nobody need know." Rosy was starting to cry again. "My parents would find out I wasn't a virgin before this and that I'm on the pill."

"How many times?" Bernadette asked.

"I don't know. Ten or twelve. That girl who just left had most. She kept saying I was a baby for wanting them to stop. She tried to get one of them to have me up my other hole but they couldn't get it in. It hurt so much." She shuddered at the memory.

"Where do you come from?" I asked.

"Sheffield." She replied. "Looks like I'm off to Yorkshire." I said.

"We are." Linda said handing Rosy her jeans and knickers.

Chapter 9 (Jenny)

Linda and I returned to the flat on Tuesday night after dropping off Rosy and Bernadette. We had all stayed at Dave and Dorothy's on the way to Yorkshire. Well, they had said drop in whenever you're passing but I didn't think they expected me to bring three others. Still they made us welcome.

Dorothy could tell I was being evasive when she asked about Paul and me and took me to one side when the others had gone to bed.

"What's happened?" She asked.

I told her. She passed no comment, made no judgement on my actions. Well, after the cruise I don't suppose she could.

"Speak to his mother." Was all she said.

We arrived back at the flat on the Tuesday night.

The flat was in darkness except for a light under our bedroom door. He was waiting up for me. I slowly turned the door knob and opened the door slowly.

Shirley was naked on her hands and knees with an equally naked Raymond thrusting in and out of her vagina. It was obviously the critical moment for them both as Raymond grabbed Shirley by the hips and pulled her back hard into his groin. I could imagine the jerking of his prick inside her as he came followed soon after by Shirley herself.

Raymond collapsed forward onto her back then slid off onto his side. He looked at me from beneath her hanging breasts. His large prick glistening with her juices.

"Hallo Jenny." He said.

Shirley yelped and covered herself with a sheet.

"What's going on?" I finally managed to say.

I found my eyes being drawn back to Raymond's prick. He made no attempt to cover himself up in fact he even picked it up and started stroking himself.

"We've put you in my old room." Shirley looked embarassed. Raymond seem intent on showing me how big he could get his prick to grow. Shirley tried to cover it with her sheet but he pushed it away.

"Why?" I had to stop looking at it.

"Well." Raymond said, displaying his fully erect prick. "As Paul's moved out."

"What?"

"He came with those two black girls he spent the weekend with. Nice lookers."

"What?"

"Look." Raymond said, pulling Shirley to him. "Let's talk about it in the morning. Turn the light off, will you?"

I stepped back into the living room. The toilet flushed and Linda came out of the bathroom. She was already dressed for bed.

"What?" She began.

"I'm in Shirley's room. Paul's left."

"Oh Jenny, I'm so sorry." She tried to put her arm around my shoulders but I shrugged her off and went into my bedroom.

I threw off my clothes and climbed naked into bed. The bedding hadn't been changed and smelt of man and woman.

I turned on my side away from the door.

'Right.' I said to myself. 'If that's how he wants it that's' how it would be.'

Why was I crying?

* * Part 4 * *

Chapter 1

AD 38. March.

A hilltop fort above the Avon. (The word Avon is ancient British for River.)

Spring had come early this year.

Gwen was preparing the ingredients for the evening meal before joining the other women in seeking eggs from the early nesting birds in the valley's below. She could hear a low rumbling from the south. Looking down to the huts by the river below she could see people running around. Not the Picts again. She shuddered when she remembered what they had done to her. That was two summers ago. She had a good man here. She smiled as she recalled the look on his face as he pulled from her that morning. And she had something to tell him when he returned.

Aswold was twenty and was tending to one of the settlement's flocks of sheep on the high moors. Wolves would come up from the trees below and run down a Ewe and Lamb in minutes if they were left unattended in daylight. He carried a five foot long stave and a short iron bladed knife tucked in the belt that secured his sheep skin jacket over his deer skin leggings. Crossed gartered, flat soled, cow hind boots completed his apparel. A leather pouch hung down the middle of his back on a leather throng.

There had been rumours from the south and east of invaders from across the seas. Let them come, he thought. Hadn't they beaten off the Celts from the mountains across the wide river (Wales) (Celts) during the last summer and the pirates in their short, flat-bottomed boats from the Islands to the west (Ireland) (Picts). He smiled as he recalled how they had offered up the ones they had captured as offerings to their gods for their deliverance. How they had screamed when the knives had penetrated their abdomens during they're disembowelling.

He smiled again when he thought of Gwen. Captured from a small fishing village by the Irish. Barely seventeen summers. As the son of the chieftain he had kept her for his own, first as plaything, then as wife. How beautiful she was, copper brown hair and a body not yet sagging from to many pregnancies. In fact, she had been his for a year and a half had had shown no signs of becoming pregnant. His father wanted him to take another, to produce heirs. There had been barren women in the village before and they had been respected but not as a partner for the chieftain's heir. Not to produce at least one strong, healthy son was running the risk of internal strife, as a potential successor would need to be chosen from the leading families remaining.

He thought again of Gwen. How her body had opened to him on that first night. His fingers prodding at her cunt, slipping inside her. How her juices had flown. Knelling behind her as he penetrated her with his cock. Powering into her to be met with lunges of equal power in return. Later she had knelt above him and sank down on him, engulfing him, her muscles contracting and relaxing around him until he had come again.

Slowly Gwen had learnt their language. At first she had been hated by the other village girls for supplanting them in his bed. But she had soon shown herself capable of holding her own in the women groups.

She told him one night, as she lay by his side playing with his cock, how her village had been surprised early one morning. Most of the men, including her new husband, were out in their boats. The Irish had crept inland and attacked with the first rays of dawn behind them. How she had seen her parents and brother killed. How she had been held down and fucked many times. She heard the screams as the remaining women were raped and those few men that survived the attack were tortured and mutilated.

Some of the boats had left to cross the wide river to their homeland taking some of the young girls and any plunder they had found with them. One girl had been kept for each boat that remained; to look after the men's needs, as they scouted for targets for future raids. There had been three boats with eight men in each and three girls. One had died on the second night and the other had ran off into the night on the forth.

On the fifth morning they had sighted the few small round huts at the mouth of the river and thinking that they would only be facing a handful of men had landed to attack. They hadn't realised that they had been observed by a lookout posted on a nearby hilltop that had roused the main village, which boasted nearly two hundred men. This time it was the Irish who were trapped and taken by surprise. She had seen them fight as only desperate men can but one by one they fell, clubbed to the ground to have their cocks and balls, cocks that had been inside her the night before, cut off and flung at their remaining comrades. Finally only a handful of wounded men remained and these were taken, beaten and sacrificed over the next two days feasting.

Aswold looked around his flock. He had left early that morning, before the sun was fully up. He opened his leather pouch and took out his food for the day. A skin of beer, bread, cheese and nuts gathered the autumn before. He split a handful of nuts with his strong teeth and ate the kernels inside.