The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 15l

The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 15l: Another June Wedding Part 12

(Copyright 2001 by Paul. All rights reserved).

All events and characters are fictitious. No similarity with any person living or dead is intended.

* * * * * *

Part 12.

Somerset 1972.

I felt good.

We'd been to the Barbers and Steve and I had had a hot towel shave with cut-throat razors. Our hair had been trimmed on our heads and up our nostrils. I felt really clean and fresh. I even smelled nice.

There was a shout from across the street as we left the shop with mine and Jenny's fathers.

"Paul." An American voice. "It's great to see you. They said we'd find you down here."

"Hello Howie, Harve." I said, shaking their hands when they had crossed the road to join us.

I made the introductions.

"This is Harve and Howard Wolfenstein." I said.

Everybody shook hands.

"What's everyone doing?" Howie asked. "I promised Pa I take him into a British Pub while we're here. He hasn't been in one since the last war."

"You were over here then?" My father asked Harve. He was always interested in fellow ex-servicemen.

"Sure was." Harve replied. "For nearly eighteen months during the build up to D-Day. Where were you?"

"I was in the Caribbean a lot around that time and in Miami." Dad answered.

"Strange places to fight the war from."

"I was fighting a strange war."

"I was in North Africa and up through Italy." George, Jenny's father chipped in.

"Hey Paul." Howie said. "There's a little pub in your village. We drove past it dropping off Martha and Carole and little Harve. Let's stop in there for a quick one."

"Well, I have to go back to my own house after dropping off Paul to collect Mary, my wife." My father said, looking at me. He looked worried. Was it the thought of my going into a pub or what my mother was going to say about it?

"Bring her along." Harve slapped him on the back. "There's nearly three hours to the wedding. A couple of belters will set you up a treat."

We all started walking as if by common consent.

"We'll take Paul back for you." He continued.

"Just have the one, Paul." My father admonished. "You are getting married."

I knew that. I wondered what Jenny was doing. I missed her. I hadn't seen her in nearly two days. It was the longest period of time I hadn't at least seen her since just after we had meet in Northern Ireland. Was it three years ago?

We were all parked in the new multi-storey car park and parted company there. My father still looked worried.

Harve had hired a big, silver Mercedes and it glided from the car park onto the Minehead road. I pointed out the turning to Chipping Burton to him and inside twenty minutes we were pulling into the car park of the village pub.

It was a quarter to twelve when we walked into the bar. Two and a quarter hours left as a single man. If I stayed for a quarter of an hour I would have plenty of time to go to the cottage, have a final wash and brush up and not need to rush to get ready. That was what I would do.

Howie ordered pints of bitter from the landlord. I caught sight of Stephanie in the back corridor. She took one look at me and hurried from view. What was wrong with her? You'd think she'd never had anybody watch her being fucked before.

I took a swallow from my glass of beer. It tasted horrible. I took another. That was better.

"Hey Mon."

A hand landed on my shoulder. I looked around and saw Ian and Linda. She looked great in a pale blue dress with shoes to match carrying a white hat. She had looked good the last time I had seen her. On her hands and knees with me kneeling behind her with my prick moving in and out of her ass. I wondered if Michelle would turn up. We'd sent an invite to her via the American Embassy in Cairo but we had no idea if she received it or not. I must ask Jerez. He probably still had dealings with her.

Ian was saying something.

"I want to buy you a drink."

Linda had moved a bit closer to me. I could smell her perfume and feel the warmth from her body.

"I shouldn't." I replied. Was that her hand on my ass? Yes it was. She was smiling at me. "I've got to go soon to get ready."

"You've plenty of time." Ian said turning away.

Another beer appeared next to my glass on the counter of the bar.

Linda's finger was moving up and down the crack between my ass cheeks. I could feel my prick growing.

"Don't, please." I lowered my mouth to her ear and whispered.

"All right." She said removing her hand. "I just thought I'd help get you ready for Jenny."

She glanced down at the front of my trousers.

"I see it worked." She smiled again. "Don't drink to much. Jenny will want a lot of you tonight. Well I would if I was her."

I placed my arm around her waist and gave it a squeeze. I liked Linda. The first girl to make me come. The first girl I had made come, sitting on a toilet seat lapping at her fanny as she stood in front of me. She didn't have much luck after that. To have been raped like that in the old barn by Tommy and his cousins, and to have them take photo's of it. Then for it to happen again in Egypt. In between it all, allowing me to fuck her as part of the ceremony to release Jenny from the influence of Ahmed and his god. No wonder Jenny liked her as well.

I smiled as I remembered.

"What are you smiling at?" She asked.

"Just remembering something."

I kissed her on her cheek then on her lips. She looked deep into my eyes as I did hers. Could I still see the pain?

"Hey." Steve said, pulling my arm. "Don't forget your getting married to Jenny today."

I hadn't forgotten.

I picked up my glass and took another drink, my arm still around Linda's waist. No. I hadn't forgotten I was getting married.

The pub was staring to fill. Some villagers dressed in casual clothes. Some guests arriving early for my wedding decked out in their finery.

I started my second beer.

Ian was standing with Harve and Howie. They looked to be on the whisky already.

Another beer appeared on the counter. I looked at the clock on the wall. It was a quarter to one. I had to go.

"I have to go." I said to Linda.

"Come on Paul. Hurry up and finish those drinks." Steve called from the far end of the bar where he was talking to two girls.

They looked familiar. Oh yes, Great Aunt Matilda's side of the family.

I reached out for my beer and a hand appeared out of nowhere to land on my wrist. I looked at the rings, at the lucky charm bracelet.

"Hello mother." I said.

"What are you still doing here?" She hissed. "You have to be in the church in under an hour."

"Come on Paul, hurry up, you'll be late." Steve called.

Loud enough for everyone to hear that it wasn't his fault. I looked towards him. Harve was pressing a large whisky into my father's hand.

"Gosh." I said, the beer was having a calming effect upon me. "Can that be the time? Right, I really must be going. I'll see you before we walk to the church, mother?"

"I'll be walking with you." She replied. "Steve." She said sternly. "Get him ready on time. I hold you responsible."

We left walking quickly up the lane to my grandfather's cottage. As we crunched over the gravel to the front door I heard Millie, my Labrador bitch, barking.

"Shut up you daft dog." I called. It's only me."

My grandfather and Hudson were standing in the large kitchen when we entered the house.

"We were about to start organising a search party for you." My grandfather said.

Not too much of a search party it would have seemed as both were holding glasses of whisky.

"We were dragged into the pub by the Wolfenstein's." I started to explain.

"Not by all the Wolfenstein's." A voice came from inside the lounge.

I'd forgotten they were here.

"Hello Carole, Martha." I called.

I opened the door and stuck my head around it.

"Have a nice trip over?" I asked.

Little Harve was sitting down, holding onto his mother's legs.

"Is he walking?" I asked another question.

"Fine trip over." Martha said.

"And no. He isn't walking yet." Carole answered my second question.

It wasn't my fault. I was an only child.

"I must go and get ready now." I said, they both did look nice. "There's only an hour to go."

"Your mother rang to remind you that you are to be there by half past so that you can have your photo's taken and discuss the sets you are going to have after the ceremony."

I looked out into the hall at Steve.

"Photographer?" I asked.

"Oh yes." He was moving towards the stairs. "I almost forgot about him."

I followed him up the stairs two at a time. We only had twenty minutes.

* * * * *

Somerset 1972.

Jenny.

My mother and my sisters climbed into the first Rolls Royce as it pulled up outside the front door. I watched from the living room window. Next the dressmaker got into her little car with the hairdresser. Shirley and the other Bridesmaids climbed into the second then it was my turn.

It was a big car. Two-tone grey and bright shinny chrome.

The driver held open the door and he and my father helped lift my trail in after me. My father took the seat next to me. He squeezed one of my hands as we pulled away.

"Nervous?" He asked.

"A little." I admitted, more to myself than him.

"Don't worry." He was looking at me. "Everybody there is your friend."

Something was welling up inside me.

"Can I open the window?" I needed some air.

"Driver." My father leaned forward to speak. "Can you open the window please."

There was a whirling sound as the window slid down. I opened my mouth and gulped down huge lung fulls of the cooling air. I could feel in running through my hair.

That was better.

"Feeling okay?" Father asked.

I smiled weakly at him and nodded.

Traffic was slowing ahead of us then pulling up to a stop. The driver got out and walked forward to investigate. I looked at the clock on the dashboard of the car. Eight minutes to two. Well, it was fashionable to be a little late.

"A farmers moving some cattle across the road ahead." The driver reported, climbing back behind the steering wheel. "It should only be a few minutes."

I leaned back in my seat.

How had David ended his story?

* * * * *

Spain 1937.

David Wagstaffe.

I was standing by the barricade at first light the next morning with my rifle pointing out towards the town. Looking over my shoulder I could see our fishing boat in the distance heading in towards the Quay. Conchita was lying curled up at my feet fast asleep. It seemed a shame to wake her but we would all need to be ready to move quickly once the boat had docked. I could just make out Celso, one of the men we had picked up the day before kneeling by the corner of the Café. I could see him looking in our direction waiting for the signal to return.

I dropped down beside Conchita and touched her gently on the shoulder. She caught my hand in her own as she smiled and opened her eyes. She smiled up at me and held my hand against one of her breasts. My fingers seemed to open of their own accord and close around it. She sighed as I squeezed it gently. I could feel myself starting to grow inside my trousers again. I recalled the early hours of the morning in the café. Standing side by side with an arm around each other's waist's staring out into the darkness. The silence had been broken by the screams of a young girl. Had I been alone I think I would have gone to try to help her. Conchita had held me tighter.

"You can do nothing for her." She had said.

She was right of course. I didn't know how many men were with her. I didn't even know exactly where she was. All I would achieve, if I didn't get myself killed, is draw whom ever was out there to the docks.

"It won't be long before the boat arrives." I said to her.

I stood up, knowing she would have full view of the bulge inside my trousers, and looked out at the sea front. She stood with me, her back to the barricade, running her fingertips along the length of my prick. She pressed harder as she rubbed and I closed my eyes. It felt so good.

Suddenly she stopped moving her fingers. I could her light, quick, footsteps behind me.

"David?" My mother asked.

I couldn't turn around, not as I was.

"Did you get any sleep at all last night?" She continued.

"I managed a couple of hours." I lied.

"You look very tired." She said turning my face towards her then looking at Conchita.

I knew Conchita was turning her head away, blushing. Did my mother guess what had happened? Did she know?

"Alistair says the boat will be here in a few minutes. When we start loading he wants you to call Celso to come back."

I nodded. Mother looked from me to Conchita, smiled and walked back towards the warehouse.

"Do you think she guessed?" I asked Conchita.

"She knows." She replied with a smile on her lips, her fingers searching for my prick through the material of my trousers. "She may be your mother but she is also a woman."

I could feel my prick responding to her touch. I felt one of the buttons on my trousers open, then a second and a third. Her hand was inside, pulling me out. Her hand closed around my prick and she started to stroke me. I stared resolutely ahead, panting for breath. Her hand moved faster. I didn't care if anybody came or if anyone could see us. I willed her not to stop. She didn't. I could have shouted when I came. Instead all I could do was hold my breath as I shot time after time onto the packing case and sacking in front of me.

I heard a cheer go up from behind me. Don't tell me they had all been watching. I pushed my wet, rapidly shrinking prick into my trousers and did up one of the buttons then turned around.

The boat had docked and everybody was gathering around it. The short gangplank had been passed up from the waist of the boat to the side of the Quay and people were starting to board. Suddenly she looked very small. I didn't see how she could take us all. There were over fifty of us.

I turned and waved to Celso. He looked quickly around then started to run towards us.

He was only fifteen yards from the barricade when a single shot rang out. He stumbled, righted himself and looked at me, a look of surprise on his face. A second shot rang out and he fell forward and lay still.

I heard a cry behind me. Turning I saw his wife and three children standing in a group staring at his body.

"Get them away Conchita." I snapped at her and looked out along the barrel of my rifle.

I could see people moving along the seafront. The wooden packing case on which I rested splintered before me and I felt something strike my cheek. There was a movement in a window two stories up in a building opposite. I fired twice into it. Shots were returned from different directions at the same time. I ducked instinctively. There was a man by the café corner. I fired at him. He disappeared from view.

I could hear Celso's wife screaming her grief. I fired again. Another shot was fired, this time from my side. I looked. Roddrego was standing there on one foot, leaning against the barricade. He fired again.

"Keep firing David." He encouraged.

I did again and again. I heard the engines of the boat behind me revving up and glanced quickly over my shoulder. There was still some people waiting to board and it was pulling away. I saw the glass in the wheelhouse shatter so I don't suppose I blamed the Captain.

There was a movement by the café and both Roddrego and I fired at the same time.

I heard movement behind me and turned my head. Alistair was running in a crouch towards us. He carried his revolver in his hand.

"The Captain had to pull away." Alistair panted. "He's lost one of his men already. They were sitting ducks there."

"What are we going to do?" I asked, re-loading the magazine of my rifle.

I looked down at the two rounds left in my hand as I finished.

"Twelve rounds." I said to nobody in particular, dropping the two spare rounds into a pouch.

"We can't stay here." Alistair said calmly, staring out across the bay.

I looked along the Quay. Everybody was taking whatever cover they could find. I saw my mother peering from behind the packing cases I had used the previous day.

"We could use the Trucks." I suggested.

"Who would drive it? Alistair replied.

He was right. This time they would be expecting us as well.

We all ducked as a volley of bullets struck the barricade. Two shots fizzed over our heads.

"Can you swim?" Alistair asked.

Roddrego fired.

"Why yes." I replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Out there in the bay." He nodded his head.

I looked. Bobbing up and down on the Buoy furthest from the shore was a little fishing boat. A small cabin in the front and an open stern. It looked more a pleasure craft than a working boat. I could imagine a local taking two or three wealthy visitors out to try their hand at sea fishing. It was perhaps two hundred yards away. I could swim but I didn't know if I could swim that far and in the open sea.

I looked across at my mother, I saw Conchita behind her. A lot of questions filled my head. What if? I wouldn't know the answers to them until I reached the boat.

"All right." I said. "When should I go?"

"Now. Please." He replied.

I left my rifle with him and moved along the barricade to the Quayside. There was a six-foot drop into the water. I could see the body of one of the men I'd killed the previous day floating just below the surface. It looked as if he was caught up on something. I took off my shoes and socks then my shirt and trousers. I looked along the Quay and saw my mother and Conchita both peering at me from around the side of the packing cases.

"What are you doing?" My mother called.

"Going for a swim." I replied and lowered myself over the edge of the Quay and into the water.

I heard Roddrego and Alistair firing to attract our assailant's attention. The sudden shock of the water against my skin took my breath away. I held on to one of the ropes which hung over the side for a few seconds to catch my breath then pushed off into a short breast stroke. My legs started to feel heavy at about the mid point and I turned over onto my back and floated for a minute.

I turned over and tread water for a few seconds looking around to get my bearings. The fishing boat was ahead of me. It still looked a long way away. I began swimming again. I could feel a cramp in one of my calf muscles. I had to keep going. I pulled at the water in front of me, hardly using my legs. Would that boat never get any closer? I swallowed a mouth-full of seawater and gagged. I didn't think I was going to make it. My arms were starting to ache. I turned onto my back to rest again. I don't think it help as the aching and cramps returned almost as soon as I started swimming again. Where was that boat?

I could see it no more than twenty yards. I swallowed more water. I was nearly there. I was there.

I hung onto the side of the boat gasping for breath. The side was only two feet above the level of the sea. It was the hardest two feet I ever had to climb. The water didn't seem to want to let me go. It felt as if it were trying to drag me back as I pulled myself up by my arms. I managed to get one leg onto the side and rolled into the boat. I lay still for a minute breathing deeply then rose slowly to my feet.

I made my ways to the controls by the entrance to the little cabin. The key was in place and there was a dark stain on the decking. Had the owner been trying to flee in his boat? Had somebody shot him?

I looked into the cabin half expecting to see a body. I hadn't realised I had been holding my breath and released it when I saw that it was empty.

I turned the key, pressed the starter button and the engine fired into life. I left it idling and climbed out along the side of the cabin to the Buoy and released the rope securing the boat. I moved back to the controls and moved the throttle lever forward. The propeller bit into the water and the boat moved forward. What was the best thing to do? Head in as fast as I could or take the scenic route and hope I could get there un-noticed. I could see them all crouching behind the packing cases. Even Roddrego and Alistair had left the Barricade.