Blitzed

In the afternoon we took Mum with us to have a look at our 'new' house. From the outside it looked large and impressive, and the inside would have been even more so but for one thing. Despite the luxurious décor and furnishings, it had a desolate, almost bleak, unlived in feel. Spiderwebs hung everywhere, and there was a heavy coating of dust on all of the furniture. Upstairs was no different, with the unmade beds looking as though they had not been slept in for years, and toys left as they were last played with.

Hamish shook his head sadly. "It's nae wonder he hardly ever left the garage" he said insightfully. "The poor man couldnae bear tae be in a place wi' sae many ghosts."

The next day he arranged for some returned sevicemen to sort out the overgrown gardens, which in places had weeds as tall as the fence, then got stuck into restoring some semblance of order to the neglected garage. Meanwhile Mum and I busied ourselves cleaning up the inside of the house to make it fit to live in.

It took more than three weeks of tedious and often back breaking work to restore some semblance of order, but finally the house was ready to be lived in again. Mum had taken Angus for a walk to get some fish and chips for tea, and Hamish was busy giving the garage a much needed coat of eye catching red and white paint, when Dad came home from work. What with Hamish being around and all the fuss and bother and everything, it had been more than a month since we had been alone together for more than a couple of minutes. I looked up from packing clothes as he put a hand on my breast, and then I was fumbling with the buttons of his trousers as he tugged my knickers down. I hadn't realised how much I had missed our regular shags until he pushed his hard dick into my ravenous fanny, and then we were lying on the floor, making up for lost time as his hot come poured into me.

Hamish, Angus and I moved into our new home the next day, and on the following Monday we stood in front of the refurbished garage, watching a signwriter add the finishing touches to a sign proudly proclaiming 'H. BROWNING and SON' and below that in slightly smaller letters, 'QUALITY MOTOR CAR REPAIRS AND SERVICE.' A portable sign close to the kerb said ' Browning's Garage -- Opening Soon Under New Ownership.'

Business was understandably slow at first, but as more soldiers returned from duty, more cars appeared on the roads, and things began to pick up.

As the American presence scaled down, Wilbur's base became a storage depot for no longer used equipment and vehicles. We had been living in the house for three weeks when he and Doris were over for what had become a regular Saturday night get together. We were well into our usual card game, and as the evening progressed and the drinks flowed, Wilbur mentioned to Hamish that Uncle Sam was planning to sell surplus equipment by tender. He also said that as second in command, he might just happen to find himself in a position to 'influence' which bids would be accepted. Not only that, the decision was his which actual equipment went to each successful bidder.

"Speaking hypothetically, of course," he suggested with a conspiratorial wink, "if someone like, say, an enterprising garage owner, were to submit an early tender for some army surplus Jeeps, it's not beyond the bounds of possibility that a foul up in paperwork could result in competing bids for those particular vehicles being 'misfiled', and not discovered until the successful tender had been accepted."

Hamish stared at him dubiously. "Why would I want tae buy Jeeps? And if ye fixed the bids could it no bounce back at ye?"

Wilbur shook his head. "Heck no. Paperwork foul ups happen all the time, and the more paperwork the bigger the foul up. Especially when those handling the paperwork are more interested in getting back to civilian life Stateside than doing their jobs. After all, what's the worst thing that could happen to some clerk who would be a civilian before his carelessness was discovered? Besides, the colonel has too much on his plate to worry about these sort of things, so they never get past my desk. And you buy them to sell them. Just think how many are coming back from the war with uncollected pay. You'll see, anything with wheels will be in demand, and they won't argue about the price. There will be too many people needing too few cars until your auto industry is up and running again."

The way Wilbur explained it, it sounded so simple -- perhaps even foolproof, and I could see that Hamish was strongly tempted. "Sounds a wee bit risky. How much money are ye talking aboot?"

"Nothing you can't afford. The top brass are only interested in the figure at the bottom of the page, and nobody but me would see the details, so it doesn't really matter how much unless it's ridiculously low. If you decide you're interested, as far as Uncle Sam is concerned you would be submitting a legitimate tender, so you're not risking anything."

His explanation was so glib I was beginning to suspect that like Chuck, he was no stranger to such skulduggery, and I confess that the thought of pulling the wool over the eyes of those in authority held a certain appeal. After all, authority had been pulling the wool over the eyes of ordinary people throughout history, so there would be a sort of justice.

"OK, how does someone go about putting in a tender?"

Wilbur had obviously anticipated our interest, because he grinned and pulled some folded papers from inside his jacket. "I had a feeling you might be interested so I filled out the tender forms. All you need to do is sign them. Don't worry about the figures yet, I'll fill those in when I find out how much other people are offering."

I hesitated as a thought struck me. "Why would you do this? I mean what will you get out of it?"

He shrugged. "For me? Nothing, but if you have a few extra pounds to spare I can add some extras. After Hamish sells them he can give the money to Doris. That way nothing can be traced back to me. If you don't want to do it we can tear up the forms."

This sounded more plausible, so after I talked it over with Hamish, we signed the papers.

After they had left we were lying in bed discussing what we may have let ourselves in for. No matter how much we talked about it, neither of us could see any way we could get into trouble. If there was any risk involved it would all fall on Wilbur, and he hadn't seemed in the least concerned about that possibility.

"I suppose it's only fair that Doris get something out of it." I mused. "When you think of how much we could make if it works, a couple of hundred pounds won't break the bank."

Hamish thought for a moment before replying. "Aye, but I dinna think that's the only reason Wilbur is doing it. I think the main reason is he wants tae shag ye."

I looked at him in shock, and gave an embarrassed laugh. "That's the daftest thing I ever heard!"

He shook his head seriously. "It's no sae daft. Have ye no seen the way he looks at ye?"

I knew exactly what he meant, but over the last three years I had become so used to Wilbur that I no longer noticed. "That's just Wilbur. He looks at all women like that. It means nothing."

He shook his head again. "Much as I like him I think ye're wrong. I know how men think. He has that 'I'd love to shag her' look in his eye every time he sees ye, an' I canna say I blame him. Maybe he's hoping that if we make enough from this tender business, ye'll think ye owe him enough tae let him shag ye."

I was rapidly losing patience with him, and finally I snapped. "Shut up! Is that what you really think of me? That I'd take my knickers off if there's enough money in it? If I was inclined to let Wilbur to shag me -- which I'm not - he wouldn't have to pay. He'd only have to ask." I stopped and took a deep breath. "You know what I think? I think you want to shag Doris, and saying Wilbur wants to shag me is just your way of justifying it." I was so angry that I got out of bed and started to dress. "If you wanted a prostitute for a wife, you should have married one. I'm taking Angus and going back to Mum and Dad's, and tomorrow I'm going to see Mr. Stein."

There was panic in his eyes and voice when I said that. "Och no, lassie. I dinna mean it the way it came oot. I'm sorry. I couldnae bear to lose either of ye."

I paused with my knickers halfway up my thighs and glared at him. "Listen Hamish Browning, if you want to shag Doris, go ahead and shag her -- that's if she'll let you. And if you really want me to let Wilbur shag me I will, because I love you enough to want to make you happy. Just be honest about it. Don't dirty it by bringing money into it. And don't insult Wilbur by pretending he has other motives for wanting to help your business."

"Ye're right lassie. I'm sorry. Come back tae bed. Please."

Putting on a show of reluctance, I took my knickers off again and slid between the sheets beside him. He was silent for a few minutes, then he hesitantly put a hand on my fanny, and for the first time ever I pushed him away and turned my back on him. "Don't even think about it. I only came back to bed because it wouldn't be fair to wake Angus at this time of night."

The last thing I remembered before I fell asleep was Hamish kissing gently between my shoulder blades and whispering."I wouldna want ye to do it for me lassie. Only for yersel' "

I woke in the morning with these words running through my head, and feeling a little guilty. What I had said last night had been said in anger, but in the cold light of day I knew that there was more than a grain of truth. Hamish didn't mention our first ever argument, but as the week progressed, no matter how hard I tried not to think of it, I couldn't stop wondering how it might feel to have Wilbur's dick buried in my fanny. Or how it might look to see Hamish push his dick into Doris. After all, friends as close as Doris and I, and now Wilbur and Hamish, often shared all manner of things, so why not this?

The next Saturday night card game started as normally as usual, except that this time I really started to notice the way Wilbur looked at me, and more to the point, how Hamish looked at Doris. Around seven thirty Angus started to fall asleep on my lap, and laying my cards aside I carried him upstairs and settled him down.

When I came back down the matches we had been playing for had been cleared away, and Wilbur was shuffling the cards. A little too casually it seemed to me, he glanced around. "How about we change the game and up the stakes to make it more interesting?"

Suddenly on my guard I looked at him as I took a seat on the couch beside my friend. "What do you have in mind? How interesting?"

He shrugged and flashed a cheesy grin. "Oh I dunno. Anyone up for strip poker?"

Now I knew he was definitely undressing me with his eyes, and I wasn't sure how to respond. In a way I liked the thought of him seeing me naked, and when the others nodded I agreed to his suggestion.

Doris was the first to fold, and gave a gleeful giggle. "Oops, looks like I lost." With a quick movement she stripped off her blouse and sat up straight as Hamish dealt the next hand. As the last card dropped she leaned forward impatiently and swept them all into a pile. "Look, we all know what everyone else is thinking, so why waste time with silly card games?" Turning her back to Hamish, she looked over her shoulder. "Unhook me."

With an uncertain glance in my direction, he reached to unfasten her brassiere, and slipping the straps from her shoulders she pushed her chest out and sat back. I was so intent on watching the expression on my husband's face as he studied the small pointed breasts, with hard pink nipples surrounded by areolae the size of florins, that I scarcely noticed Wilbur's hands unfastening my own blouse and brassiere, until I felt the cool air on my skin. My lips formed a silent 'O' as I glanced down, almost surprised to see my brown tipped globes really were naked.

Both men sat unmoving for long seconds, staring at our bare chests until Doris broke the tension by moving closer to Hamish. "It's OK to touch them. They won't break."

She shivered as he stroked her tight little buds, then Wilbur's hands were on my tits, stroking, squeezing, teasing. I leaned forward pressing my stiffening nipples against his palms. I was glad Doris had taken the initiative, because otherwise I'm not sure I would have had the courage to allow another man to undress me in front of my husband, but as it was I came easily to my feet, and let Wilbur unfasten my skirt and slip my damp knickers down my legs. Now that I was naked I felt surprisingly at ease as he gazed at my fanny, then I sighed with pleasure as he parted the pouting lips and blew gently on my clitoris. I could smell the heady scent of my arousal as I watched him undress, then I reached impatiently for his stiff dick. From the corner of my eye I could see Hamish undressing Doris as she in turn relieved him of his clothing, and slouched beside me with her legs wide and inviting, and I watched in fascination as my husband knelt between my best friend's parted legs with his dick in his hand.

I suppose it was some sort of double standard, but after willingly giving myself to three other men, first to Dad, then to Chuck, and finally to Hamish, I had no reservations about spreading my legs for Wilbur, yet I was far from sure I liked the idea of my husband shagging another woman, even if she was my best friend. The thought lasted no more than a few seconds though, as I compared the sizes of the two rigid organs. I felt a smug satisfaction in seeing that although Wilbur's cock was larger than Dad's Hamish's was even more impressive, and decided it would be churlish to deny my best friend the pleasure I had enjoyed so often.

It still came as a bit of a shock though to discover that watching him bury his dick in Doris' fanny excited me almost as much as when he buried it in mine. I could almost feel her inner folds being caressed by his hard shaft as Hamish drove in and out, and I raised my fanny to Wilbur's probing fingers, eager to feel how Doris felt when he shagged her.

His touch was so assured and confident I knew in an instant why she had willingly surrendered her virginity so soon after they first met. Suddenly I felt as though I was the only girl in the world, as he fastened his mouth on my nipple and speared his hard Yankee cock into my more than willing pussy. I had told my husband that I would do this for him, but now that it was happening I knew it was for me, although having him beside me, watching his wife being fucked by another man raised my excitement to a different level. Almost but not quite as exciting as incest, and my come poured out around Wilbur's driving cock as he fucked me to climax after climax.

I looked to one side in time to see Hamish and Doris approach their goal, and I smiled at the familiar shudder as he pumped his cream into her twat. And then my concentration was focused again on what was happening between my legs, as Wilbur flooded my pussy with thick Yankee come.

The months that followed were the most exciting period of my life. Two, sometimes three times a week, Dad dropped in on his way home from work to shag me whilst Hamish was busy in the garage, and on Saturday nights I enjoyed Wilbur's cock as Hamish fucked Doris. It goes without saying of course that in the evenings my husband took pains to ensure I was far from neglected.

A week and a half after we first swapped partners, things took a totally unexpected twist. I had just settled Angus for his afternoon nap when Doris turned up. "I got fed up with work for today, so I thought I'd drop in for a cuppa and a chat. I hope you don't mind."

I shook my head as I put the kettle on. "Of course not. Why should I mind? I'm glad of the company."

She seemed nervous, perched beside me on the edge of the couch nursing her cup and saucer, and I looked at her questioningly. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Maybe. Oh I don't know. I hope not." There was a long pause as I waited for her to go on, then she sighed. "I've been thinking about what we've been doing. You know, the boys and us."

"What about it?" I was beginning to have an uncomfortable feeling about where this was going.

"Haven't you wondered about how it started? Why I was so willing?" she set her cup on the coffee table and turned to face me.

"I thought it was because you wanted Hamish to shag you."

"I did. And I wanted to see Wilbur shag you too."

"I see, and now you want to stop?"

"God no! Or at least not unless you want to. It wasn't that at all."

"Then what was it?"

Very hesitantly she touched her breasts, and then mine. "I thought if you saw these, you would let me see these. And this." She touched between my legs, and then the words came tumbling out. "Ever since we first met I've wanted to feel your fanny, wanted you to feel mine."

The shock must have shown on my face, because she pulled away and burst into tears. "Damn, now I've ruined everything."

"Don't be silly." I dabbed at her eyes with a hankie. "You just surprised me, that's all. We''ll always be friends and I'll always love you."

"Just not in that way though." Doris sniffled.

"I really don't know." I replied truthfully. "That sort of thing just never occurred to me." I was silent for a few minutes, trying to sort out my thoughts, then I took her hand. "Have you touched any other girls?"

She shook her head violently. "God no! I'm not like that. Really. I don't know how to explain it. It's just that you are, well, special. I could never say anything in front of the boys because I'd have died of embarrassment if you were offended."

Hearing her say that really did make me feel sort of special, in a strange sort of way. "I'm not offended. I'm flattered -- I think." I lifted our clasped hands then withdrew mine, leaving hers hovering inches from, but not quite touching my breasts. "Look, if it means so much to you I don't mind if you feel me."

She looked at me with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "Are you sure you're not just trying to make me feel better?"

"Of course I'm not. Will make it easier if I take off my things? Or do you want to do it?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe if you take your dress off -- and mine. I think I'd like to take your other stuff off."

Rising to my feet I held out my hands to help her up, before shrugging out of my dress and removing hers. I realised then that she had prepared herself for this moment, because she wasn't wearing underwear. For the first time I looked at my friend in the way a man might look at her, appreciating her small firm breasts and trim waist above flared hips. She had trimmed away most of the hairs on her mound, and the tip of her clitoris poked invitingly from between the pouting lips of her sex. I was vaguely aware that she had unfastened my brassiere, and then her nipples were pressed hard against mine as her fevered hands pushed down my knickers.

"Touch me Thelma," she whispered. Feeling a little embarrassed, I cupped her breast gently as my own body responded, and she shook her head. "I mean down there."

She was softer and warmer than I had imagined, and infinitely wetter, and she squirmed against my fingers as her own fingers probed my fanny. It was so different from either Wilbur or Hamish. No frantic probing as a prelude to a shag. Each gentle touch was an end in itself, a need to please and be pleased. When the men were feeling me I had to trust to luck that they would find the 'right' spot at just the right time, but there was no such uncertainty with Doris. Her touches were exactly right, exactly where and how and when, and as I came to understand that she was touching me the way she liked to be touched, I began to copy her.

With the scent of arousal heavy in the air, we sank slowly to the thick carpet, stroking, kissing, teasing. "Let me look at you." Her voice was barely audible as I lay with my legs parted, feeling her eyes devour me. "Oh god Thel, you're perfect." Hamish had said the same thing seconds before he licked me for the first time, and I knew that Doris, and suddenly I too, had the same thing in mind. "Will you let me taste you?"