Always Turns Up Ch. 07

"I missed you, Penny. And I missed the bit of me you took with you. I fell in love with you, thirty years ago. I have never loved anyone the way I loved you. I have never stopped. Part of me is always with you."

"And you have part of me." She went very still. I stopped moving as well. We had each only been flexing very slightly, a slow circular movement against each other, but the stillness focussed me on the position I was in. Kneeling over a naked woman, her legs open, my cock inside her. Mutually vulnerable.

She blinked, and swallowed, bringing up her courage to speak. "You can have all of me. When I asked you to take me, I meant it. I want to give myself, all of me, to you. If you will have me."

"Penny Harty. I have always been yours. All of me. Always. And I have wanted you, always."

I kissed her again, and it lead to a dozen more, each less languorous than the last, and our bodies began to dance the oldest moves in the book. She came, and I felt that unexpectedly I was close, so I kept on moving, giving her no respite, and she had a secondary orgasm, keeping her on the high, and then, as I felt the rush, and my thrusts grew harder and deeper, she came again, and we both jerked and spasmed, and fell on each other's necks with hot hard kisses, and gasps, hands digging into each other's shoulders to push my body up and hers down, driving my cock into her as deep as I could go. Holding her there, as she pulsed around me.

In the aftermath, when our muscles gave out and we became soft and tangled, on our sides, facing each other, no longer joined at the crotch, but still closer than ever, I murmured in her ear, "I love you, Penny Harty."

She moved her head back and kissed me, and looked at me, and her eyes said it much louder than her lips as she whispered, "Sean Carver, you are the love of my life. I have loved you for thirty years, I love you now, I will never not love you."

She kissed me once, very softly, and rested her head on my shoulder. I pulled the covers over us, and she snuggled down some more.

She woke me about an hour later, as she tried to slip out of bed without disturbing me. She realised I was waking and said "Shush, I'm just going to the loo."

She was back in few moments, and I took her in my arms and kissed her but when she put her leg over me I realised I had the same problem. I had to excuse myself, and make the same trip. She was sitting on the edge of the bed when I got back, looking at her French knickers. She shrugged and said "It is a good job I brought a change with me." She smiled up at me. "Look at the mess you have made." The crotch was dark stained, and there were streaks of what looked like my pre come on them as well as her contribution. "Oh well," she said, tossing them over her shoulder, "It was well worth it..." she added, rising to her feet and embracing me. She didn't let the kiss develop though, leaning back after a moment and saying "Cease, you insatiable beast. Girl needs fed. Starving, ravenous, weak..."

We raided the fridge. She had brought quite a lot of food. Which was a good thing, since I generally didn't keep much. Eating for one, and not having to plan, meant I didn't look that far ahead most of the time.

She insisted we eat at the table, inside. "I hate crumbs in the bed". And fair enough the bread rolls were crusty and did produce a fair bit of mess. It was all delicious. I was hungry as well. We talked a little of course, but it was plans for the evening. If we hurried we might just see the sunset at the beach. So we hurried, and I drove. Parking in Brighton was impossible, but Penny said "Head for Hove, there is a place on the esplanade there that can take campers."

There was. I was suspicious. "How did you know about this spot?"

"Google maps. I did some research. Same as how I knew about the Devil's Dyke car park."

I took a few seconds to think about that. Of course she had it all planned. It was quite flattering really. "Ah. Yes. That makes sense. Good thinking. Shall we go down to the beach to watch the sun?"

The sun sets over the water, but not straight out to sea, as it does at Biarritz. It is more to the right, down the English Channel, so the best view is from the pier. I stood behind Penny with my arms wrapped around her, pressing my body against her back, and occasionally kissing her ear as she stood with her head resting against my shoulder. It reminded me of times long past when we had watched sunsets, and sometimes sunrises, often before or after making love.

We walked hand in hand along the beach as it grew darker, and got ice cream at a kiosk. I asked her if she was still hungry, and we shared a small bag of chips. Well, the menu said small. I wondered who could manage a large one by themselves. Penny joked that if I kept working her as hard as I had that afternoon then she would easily manage that and a full battered cod as well.

We talked a lot as we walked back along the promenade, and out the pier and back again. Mostly about my life in the years between when I had last seen her and yesterday. I tried to be fair to my ex-wife, but not too harsh. Penny snorted when I made some excuse for her, and swung me round to face her, and put her arms around me, "My dear man, you are an idiot sometimes. This afternoon you proved that you are an exceptional lover. Better in bed than anyone I have ever known. If she didn't sleep with you five times a week when she had the chance it is because she is either an idiot or a frigid idiot. Whatever else went wrong that stopped you having a decent sex life, it wasn't your capability. Blaming you was just her way of covering up the fact she was to blame."

I had to smile, at Penny's fierce tone. "You don't like her do you?"

She snorted again. "She didn't treat you right. So no. And, I admit it, I am jealous. She had you for twenty years. It should have been me. Okay, my fault, but, I'm a woman, so I am still jealous."

"My fault too, darling. I should have come after you. I should have rugby tackled you and not let you go in the first place. There are a lot of things I should have done, and things I did do but shouldn't, that made you go away in the first place. I made a lot of mistakes."

She hugged me, and said firmly "Ok. We both made mistakes. Do you forgive me?"

"I did that a long time ago."

"What about all the things I told you yesterday? I have hardly been keeping myself for you?"

I had to nod and a little frown crossed my face, "Yeah. Yes I am a little jealous. We weren't together, you were free to do as you wish, no obligations to me, sometimes not free, and under duress as well of course. So I can't complain. But yes, I was jealous yesterday sometimes. Horrified as well. Angry, but not at you. I am glad that you told me. It clears the air."

She nodded, wisely. "That is why I told you."

"Although I suspect you haven't told me everything. Not in detail."

She looked at me with a measuring expression. "You got turned on by some of my stories yesterday didn't you? You want to hear more. You like to hear the details, don't you?"

I tried to look nonchalant "Maybe."

She laughed and hit me gently on the arm. "Come on you old perv, it is getting cold, let's go home and have a cup of tea, and if you are good I will tell you a bedtime story. But no hanky panky tonight, you have worn me out."

"If you tell me one of those stories I cannot be responsible for my actions afterwards."

She laughed, and said, "Okay. I shall not tease you that way then."

We drank tea, we talked, we got tired, and Penny said "Oh before bed, can I have a shower?"

The shower in the van is not large, and the flow rate is not great. Some compromises have to be made when you run off twelve volts and have to carry all your own water. So Penny was not overly enthusiastic about its performance. A dancing bear, as she said - one should be impressed it can dance at all, not be too fussy about the complexity of the steps. But it suffices to get one clean. And she let me scrub her back. And other bits, although not too much. It was just nice to hold her naked again, a little slippery, and kiss a little. But not too much. We were both tired. Reluctant not to do more, but sensible enough to just enjoy the flirting and the fun of cleaning each other, drying each other, helping each other to get to bed.

We slept, and we woke late. I usually woke late. She usually woke early, so for her it was a lie in. We went for breakfast at the café on the end of the pier, a Full English. Not quite as good as a Full Irish of course. No potato bread or soda bread, and they have beans instead of mushrooms. But two eggs, sausages, bacon, black pudding, fried tomatoes, and toast and marmalade, with lots of tea does set you up reasonably well for the day. The question then was what to do next. We had not discussed the future. Last night had been all about the past, our shared past and then about people we had once known together, and what they had been up to. Catching up. Reality now caught up with us.

I was a little worried when I eventually said "So what will we do today? Do you have to get back to London?"

"No." she said, and smiled. Unexpected relief flowed through me. "I have a couple of changes of knickers and two tee shirts in my bag, plus the ones I had to hand-wash last night... I have my bank cards and passport, and I have told everyone I need to that I am off for a holiday. Indefinitely. As long as you don't mind me moving in, and can maybe spare me a few inches of space in the wardrobe when I buy a couple of things to keep me decent, I can go anywhere you want to go, for as long as you will put up with me."

I laughed at the idea of her only needing a few inches in the wardrobe, and she made a face. "Ok, maybe a bit more than that. Speaking of wanting a few inches..." She gave me a flirty look.

I was a little flustered. Willing, yes, if she wanted to do more than flirt, and probably able to at least gain a reasonable erection, if a few inches was required, but I seriously doubted my ability to orgasm again after the two amazing bouts the evening before. My consternation clearly showed on my face, and hers fell. "Sorry, Sean, are you okay?"

"Of course," I said and reached for her hand, "I am just not used to having an insatiable nymphomaniac about the place." I gave her my best kiss on a hand and raised eyebrow, complete with bad French accent "What are you proposing, Mademoiselle?"

She laughed. "Don't do Pepe le Pew at me! I was only joking my darling, I am sure that you are a little worn out after yesterday. Some parts of me are complaining, I have to confess. Unused to the abuse. You know I haven't had a lover for over a year now. Nearly three I think... I am afraid you shall have to give me at least until this evening to recover. Unless you are in desperate need of relief, in which case I am sure I could manage something..."

"I am sure you could, and thank you for the offer. But I would probably disappoint you. I confess you constantly enflame my desire, but while the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak. And drugged. If I looked a little unwilling it was only that I realised that since I took the meds late again last night... I might rise to the occasion, but be disappointingly unable to show my appreciation fully, if you get my drift."

"Ah. So, you could get a hard on, but orgasm would be difficult?"

Her question was almost shockingly blunt. Yes, in later years we had both known and used some cruder or more direct language, and at times I had enjoyed the little taboo breaking thrill of it. And yes, the things she had talked about a couple of days before had been couched in pretty straightforward language. But this was still surprising. I would have to get used to this new Penny. I stumbled over the words. "Yes. It might be. I wouldn't want you to think that it was because I didn't find you attractive, or..."

"Don't be silly, darling. Frankly, at our age, doing it once a day is a challenge for any man. I wouldn't have been surprised if you were not on full form until this evening at best. And in any case, I am sure that if you ever have trouble with that, you are so creative with your hands, and other bits, that I would be quite satisfied." She leaned forward over the table and said gently "You were wonderful yesterday afternoon even before I got your pants off." She leaned back, smiling at my slightly embarrassed expression and said "By the way, where did you get those underpants? I liked them."

"Marks and Spencer's."

"Really? Very sleek, very stylish. Very smooth to the touch. How many pairs do you have?"

"Three."

"I shall have to look through your other ones. We may have to get more... but apart from M&S, where shall we go?" She asked.

"Macdonald's."

"What? Why on Earth? Don't tell me you like their burgers?"

"Lord, no." I said "but they have free WiFi. And the espresso is acceptable. I would like to look a couple of things up, and we could use your favourite Google maps."

"Why not just use your phone? Or set up a link with it to your laptop as a local hotspot?"

I stared at her, open mouthed. "Who are you and what have you done with Penny Harty?"

She looked mystified for a moment, and said. "Ah. Tech stuff. Not my thing, was it?"

"You wouldn't use a word processor and you hated CDs before it was 'hip' to get back into vinyl."

"Oh I still like vinyl. Well PVC, or leather, really... yes I know what you mean. I noticed your shock and the jibe about Google Maps. It was all Zi's fault. He got me into it. Blackberry and a laptop thick as a brick in those days, but once I discovered Excel I was hooked. So much easier than having to add up all the columns by hand. And then of course with Charlie the Web was big part of the business, and all my enterprises needed websites, and how can you do anything without email?"

"Ok, hotshot. Normally I would use my phone as a hotspot, but only on the Continent. My contract does not cover the U.K. in the same way, so data here is about a euro per megabyte, and I am a cheapskate. Hence Micky Dee's. They also have plugs for charging, so I used to use them all the time before I got Lulu and the charging station sorted out."

"Well, use mine then," she said, producing the latest model iPhone. "I have unlimited data."

We went back to the van, and I showed her my tech cupboard. Laptop with four batteries in trickle charge from a dedicated solar panel on the roof, and USB charging ports for everything else. Slots for phone, Kindle, tablet and a couple of power packs, including one that doubled as a torch. All of it changed over automatically to charge from the engine when it was running, as did the three large batteries for the interior lights and other gadgets. She plugged her phone in to charge, and we set up the hotspot. I made coffee while she did a few minutes checking of email, and then we began research and brainstorming.

She wanted to visit all of Europe. Since summer was coming she suggested we start north, and make the best of the weather, but we had to be in Biarritz for her birthday. I suggested a trip to Scotland immediately since we were on this side of the Channel, but she said "No, let's do that in the last week of August, when you will be coming back up to see your parents in September anyway."

It was heart-warming for me that she had remembered that little remark from two days before. So I said "Ferry from Hull to Rotterdam?"

She countered "Have you ever done the Channel Tunnel? I have been through on the Eurostar direct train to Paris, but not in a car."

We booked a trip for the evening. I knew of a good aire to park the van near St Omer.

***********

It was only two and a half hours to drive along the coast to the channel tunnel terminal, and since Penny liked driving the van we took turns, swapping over every hour or so, and made good time. So we were able to fit in a short look around Canterbury Cathedral, and get a last-chance proper fish and chips. I carry a bottle of Sarson's Malt Vinegar in the van, because the French just don't understand the concept. Penny asked me if I would share a saveloy. Another peculiar English delicacy. I had not really acquired the taste, but was happy to say I would help her with it.

We sat on a park bench to eat. After our first few mouthfuls of excellent battered Cod and chips cooked in beef dripping, she lifted the saveloy. "Hmmn, this reminds me of something." She said it with a faux innocent tone that I knew well. She looked at me with big innocent eyes as she slipped the sausage between her lips and slowly pushed a couple of inches in.

I grinned. Then she drew it out and pushed it in a little again. I still grinned. Then she drew it nearly out, and opened her lips to show her teeth, and bit the end off.

I made a mock horrified face, and she almost laughed, despite the mouthful of meat. She swallowed and then hit me and said "Don't do that. I nearly choked!"

"Well," I said, "I was just starting to develop a little erotic fantasy, when you turned it into a horror movie, so how would you expect me to look! Entirely ruined what might have been my next story for Literotica."

She apologised, profoundly, and insincerely. I accepted it in the same light-hearted spirit. Then she asked "Are you going to write up my story for Literotica?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Well, you did sort of leave your readers hanging. Why did you stop writing for so long?"

"Mainly because my meds made me uninterested in sex. And I seemed to have lost inspiration. You were my muse, and having run out things to say about you..."

"Jill Wyatt seems to have inspired you. I wonder what her bible bashing husband would say if he knew..."

"Indeed. But you know the Jill in that story was just you really. I cannot imagine her ever doing a hundredth of what I wrote. Or a hundredth of what you did. She wouldn't have survived. She would never be you. Or anything near you. I will tell you what, I will write it up, when I get the time, and you can read it and edit it. Change all the names and details you need to so that people are not identifiable, and add or delete any details you think appropriate. Plus anything to improve the story of course."

"Okay. But can you remember it all?"

"I can remember a good deal. And you can always tell me again."

I didn't realise then how busy life would be for the next three years. It was only with "confinement" as the French called it, "Lockdown" in England, and the COVID 19 virus, that I would have time to do it properly. But that is jumping ahead.

We reported in on time, and they checked the van over. Gas bottles not too full, all appliances turned off, no using the gas on the train. I drove Lulu onto the shuttle carriage. Immediately the van was secured Penny said "Come on, the journey is only 35 minutes."

"Where are we going?" I asked as she swivelled her seat and began climbing up into the main area of the van.

She turned and looked at me, and shook her head. "Oh darling, just hurry up."

She made a direct line for the bedroom door, leaving it open, peeling her clothes off as she went.

"Ah." I said.

She had shoes that were easy to slip off. Mine were not. She had discarded them, and her tee shirt, as she passed through the cabin. Her bra had been undone and flung aside as she went through the little passage between the loo and the shower cubicle, and it had been the work of a moment to push down her trousers, tights and panties in one go as she was about to step up onto the bed.

It had been that movement of hers that slowed me down. I had also shed my tee shirt, and was working on my belt buckle, fly button and zip on my trousers when I saw her baring her bottom and bending over. I kept moving towards her, my concentration was no longer on undressing. I grabbed her waist just as she was standing upright again, and put my hands round her middle. I sank my teeth gently into her neck as she arched her head back and pushed her torso against my bare chest and stomach. We kissed, and she started to twist round, and then jerked forward, breaking the kiss. "Oops, your buckle." She said, and turned all the way round to face me, forcing me to take a step back.