Just For Old Timesbyquinn rogan©
I think it was Julie’s idea to take a cottage in Cornwall for an early spring break.
We drove down on a bright, clear April morning. The cottage was just outside St Ives – a converted farm labourer’s dwelling, with a small, low kitchen, a coal-fired living-room and just the one tiny bedroom, upstairs, with a large, soft double bed, which we christened within an hour of arrival!
Julie, my lovely wife of three years, had spent a summer in Cornwall, working during the summer vacation between school and college, the year before I met her, and she had always wanted to visit the area again.
I had a suspicion that that summer had been a bit of a ‘rite of passage’ for Julie. It had been her first time away from home, and she had lived with her aunt and cousin while she was there. Her cousin, Jeanette, was a couple of years older than Julie, and family gossip had it that she was a bit of a ‘bike’. She wasn’t a very attractive girl, although she had a passable figure, but she was a nice enough lass and, if she had to ‘put out’ a bit more than other girls, to get the boys to take notice of her – well, who was I to criticise?
Jeanette, at the time, had been aiming to train in hotel management, and had a job in local pub, where she was able to fix Julie up, as well, to help with the increased summer holiday trade.
Since then, though, the aunt had died, and Jeanette was working in London, so there was no need to pay any duty visits, while we were down there. In fact, we had both had a hard winter, workwise, and we needed a break – not least to revive our sex life, which had been on the back burner a little for the past few months.
In that respect, our visit was very successful! The little cottage was remote from any other houses, at the bottom of a woodland track, and I think, by the middle of the week, we had capered around, naked, in every corner of it, and I had shagged my beautiful, sexy wife on every surface, horizontal and vertical!
Julie is quite tall, just a shade under five foot eight, with shoulder-length auburn hair, bewitching soft brown eyes, and a wide, generous mouth which breaks easily into a smile, and is utterly delicious to kiss. Her upper body is quite strong, due to a lot of swimming when she was a youngster – shoulders straight, and quite broad, and her breasts are a very generous 38”, firm and high on her chest, with large aurolae and thick blood-red nipples, which erect very easily – sometimes embarrassingly easily, as far as my wife is concerned!
Below her slim waist, Julie’s hips are also slim, and athletic – her legs long, shapely and well-defined. At the junction of her thighs lies an abundant bush of auburn hair, which only partially conceals the full lips of her vagina – an orifice I entered more times during that week in Cornwall than in the months since Christmas.
And, of course, the more we ‘did it’, the more we wanted to do it. Even on our trips out, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. The weather was warm, and glorious, and Julie was wearing short summer dresses, which showed off her bare, tanned legs, and emphasised the seductive bounce of her full, heavy tits. Notwithstanding our almost continuous sex in the cottage, we went ‘all the way’ no less than three times in the bracken, while hill-walking, and once on a deserted beach, late at night, on our way home from a restaurant.
On our last night, we decided to visit that same restaurant again and, as before, walked the two-mile journey from the cottage, into St. Ives. We arrived about half an hour before our 8.30 booking, and I suggested a drink before dinner.
“Took the words right out of my mouth!” was Julie’s response, and, as I headed for a pub beside the harbour, she grabbed my elbow and said – “No – let’s go this way,”
Something – a slight breathlessness – in her voice made me glance at her. Her cheeks were a little flushed, her eyes bright, but I couldn’t catch her eye as she practically dragged me down a little alley, then down some stairs into a basement with a sign above the door.
The pub was small, with a bar running the entire length of the room – only about twenty feet – and half a dozen tables dotted around, with chairs arranged haphazardly around them. But it was busy, with what seemed to be, predominantly, a young crowd – mixed groups of boys and girls in their late teens and early twenties. The background music was modern, but not too loud.
There was just one guy behind the bar – a man of about thirty, slim build, with blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and a gold stud in his right ear. Julie pushed me down at a small table for two, beside the window, and said – “I’ll get the drinks.”
Puzzled, I watch her cross the floor – and noticed that I wasn’t the only one, several male heads swivelling to admire her progress as she eased through the crowd, and the tightly-packed tables and chairs.
She reached the bar, and the barman looked up, a polite smile on his face. It was too noisy for me to hear, but I could see Julie ordering our drinks. The barman half-turned away, to get them, then he did a double-take and whipped round to face Julie again, a grin of delight spreading across his face.
Racing to the end of the bar, he whipped round the corner, by which time Julie had practically arrived, and she threw herself into his arms. They flung their arms round each other, and hugged, tightly, then he withdrew his head and planted a kiss straight onto my wife’s mouth.
It was a real kiss – mouths open, heads bent sideways, bodies joined from knee to shoulder – and it lasted a bit too long, for me. Of course, by now, I had put two and two together – this was the pub where Julie had worked six – no, seven – years ago, and her ex-employer was very pleased to se her again! But, still ……
Eventually, Julie broke the kiss, and I saw her incline her head in my direction, then they were walking towards me, holding hands and grinning at each other in mutual delight.
I stood up as they approached. The barman released Julie’s hand and extended his own towards me.
“James,” said Julie, her eyes bright with pleasure, “this is Sam, who looked after me when I was here, last. Sam, this is James, my husband.”
Taking my hand firmly, Sam grinned and said – “And a very lucky man, too! It’s a real pleasure to meet you, James.”
Pulling up a chair, he sat down as Julie, too, dropped into the chair beside me. She reached a hand across the table, and Sam took it. A young barmaid appeared with our drinks, and I settled down to my beer as my wife and Sam ‘caught up’ with each other.
There was something about Sam’s face that was familiar – and something odd, as well. Suddenly, it dawned on me – I had seen his photograph, and, not only that, he was one of twins! It was one of those ‘photo booth’ pictures, with Julie sitting on the knees of those two guys who looked identical to each other. We had been looking at her old photos one night, years ago, and all I remembered was that Julie had told me it was a holiday snap, and that the two guys had been great fun to be with, but there had been nothing more to it than that, and we had moved on to the next picture ……
Somehow, though, that picture had stayed in my mind – I think it was the thought of those two guys being identical – I always used to wonder what a girl – well, Julie – would have thought about when she was with them. Would she have preferred one over the other – would she have wondered what it would be like to ‘be with’ both of them at the same time? Then, I had seen ‘The Camomile Lawn’ on TV, where a girl had a relationship with identical twins – all three of them going to bed together. I had wanted to ask Julie what she thought of that, but never quite had the courage.
Looking at her now, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at Sam, their hands clasped over the table as they laughed at their shared memories, and remembering how they had kissed, just minutes before, a shiver of uneasiness ran up my spine …… Also, to my surprise, I felt my balls tighten, and my cock give a little jerk. I took another mouthful of beer and sat back, trying to relax.
I might as well not have been there as they talked excitedly to each other, catching up on news of Jeannette, Sam’s twin brother, Joe, and other mutual friends I didn’t know from Adam, and recollecting the events and the characters and the parties from that long- ago summer. Another round of drinks appeared, and I looked at my watch – we would have to leave, shortly, to be at the restaurant for 8.30. I would be glad to get Julie out of here – back to me, and her world as it was now – and away from her youthful memories.
I drank my beer quickly, and managed to catch Julie’s eye. I tapped my watch, with an apologetic shrug. For a split second, a look of irritation crossed her face, but she masked it quickly, and explained to Sam that we would have to leave. He took it very well, I thought, but, as we all stood up, it became clear that Julie had promised to call back, after our meal, if only to say ‘hello’ to Joe, who would be in from 10 o’clock until they closed at 11, to help with the last-minute surge, and the clearing-up after closing. As we left, my mind was made up that I would try to scotch that suggestion or, at least, make sure our visit was a short one ……
Julie was very ‘high’ as we made our way the short distance to the restaurant, and I did my best to match her mood, but my mind kept switching between the images of the girl in ‘The Camomile Lawn’ sitting, bare-breasted, between the twins in the bed they all shared, and Julie, in that photo-booth, perched on Joe and Sam’s knees, her arms round their shoulders – their hands out of sight, the picture covering their heads and shoulders, only. In my mind, I could see their hands sliding up Julie’s thighs – maybe, out of shot, her dress was lifted up and their fingers were touching her panties ……
My cock was stiffening and I angrily tried to banish the vision from my mind as we entered the restaurant, and were shown to our table ……
It was a quarter past ten and two bottles of wine later, before we returned to the subject of Julie’s last summer here. It had been an excellent meal and, once we had sat down, Julie had seemed to suddenly realise that she had been making me feel uneasy, and had turned her vivacity and charm on to me, full-scale, as only she could, and we had dined, at our little corner table, like two new lovers, instead of a married couple.
Now, the erection poking up inside my trousers was caused only by the prospect of getting Julie back to our cottage for a final night of glorious, abandoned sex, before tomorrow’s long journey back home, and I was convinced that Julie was in the same mood, as her hand slid under the tablecloth and squeezed my cock gently. Her tongue ran round her lips, and she murmured “Mmmmmm……..” She was leaning forward, and I could see the soft curves of the upper slopes of her breasts down the front of her summer dress.
She caught my eye, and chuckled – well, giggled, really – and I realised that she had accounted for at least half of our considerable wine intake that night.
“Like what you see?” she breathed, in a kind of a stage whisper, and I nodded, pushing my groin forward so that there would be no doubt of my state of arousal. Julie’s fingers closed round my stalk and squeezed it, hard.
“Let’s go,” I muttered. “I can’t stand much more of this.”
“Me, neither,” she replied. “We’ll just have a quick five minutes in ‘The Admiral’ – then the rest of the night to ourselves.”
I nearly protested, but then I thought a quick visit for a last drink – say hello to the other brother – wouldn’t do any harm. In fact, it might even stimulate Julie even more – if that were possible – and, in any case, if I turned stroppy, now, the mood could be ruined, entirely.
“O.K.” I said, as I signalled for the bill, adding – “What’s he like – Joe? Is he just like his brother?”
Julie smiled. “Yes – pretty much,” she said. “Maybe – a bit more outgoing – well, maybe ‘pushy’ is the more correct word. You know – more ‘forward’, sort of ……”
She had moved her hand away from me when the waitress responded to my request for the bill, and she was leaning back, smiling reflectively. I could see the shape of her nipples, thrusting against the thin material of her bra, and her dress. My insides did a little leap.
“How do you mean?” I asked, with an assumed casualness I didn’t feel. Julie’s eyes took on a dreamy sort of quality as she searched her mind for an explanation.
“Well,” she said. “You’ve seen the bar at ‘The Admiral’. It’s pretty small and it gets quite – crowded – when there a few staff behind it, so you get squeezed together, quite a lot.”
She looked at me and I nodded. She had an odd expression on her face, a ‘secret’ sort of smile playing round the corners of her mouth.
“Well,” she went on. “When Sam had to squeeze past, behind a girl – you know – he tended to do it quite quickly, in a sort of businesslike way, but Joe liked to – well, let you know he was there ……”
Her voice trailed off, then she gave a sudden giggle.
“Oh, James,” she said. “You know what I mean!”
I did, but my mouth was drying with a sudden excitement, and I wanted Julie to go into the detail.
“Well, I think I do,” I said, “but tell me, anyway.”
“Well, if Jeanette, say, was filling a glass at the beer-pump, and Joe had to get past her, he always did it slowly, pushing himself against her – oh, all right, if you must have the gory details, he would push his groin against her bottom, so that she could feel him – his, well, his groin ……” Julie’s face was slightly pink, and her eyes slid away from mine.
“What did she do?” I asked, and Julie laughed.
“Well, you know Jeanette,” she retorted. “Usually, she’d push her bum back at him, and do a little wriggle.”
“What did Joe do?” I asked. The bill had arrived, and lay on the table in front of me, but, for the present, I was ignoring it.
“That depended on whether he was carrying anything,” said Julie. Her eyes were now bright, a couple of spots of high colour in her cheek-bones. “Sometimes, he would reach forward and grab her hip-bones and pull her towards him – and, once or twice, I even saw him slide his hands further round – further down her front, so to speak ……”
“What – onto her ……?” I asked.
Julie nodded, her expression becoming a little more serious.
“Yes,” she said, softly, glancing round to make sure we weren’t being overheard. “Of course, Jeanette and Joe were – you know?”
“You mean he was shagging her?” I said, suddenly tired of all these euphemisms. Julie nodded.
“Of course he was,” she said. “So was Sam – and two or three of the ‘regulars’ – not to mention quite a few of the ‘passing trade’. Well, you know Jeanette, and her ‘slack knicker elastic’ – it can sometimes be quite difficult to find a man who hasn’t given her one! Haven’t you?”
Her final question took me off guard. As a matter of fact, I hadn’t, but my fingers had visited where my cock hadn’t, in a secluded hallway in Julie’s Uncle Simon’s house, one wild New Year’s night not so long previously ……
“No!” I denied, a split-second too late, but Julie just laughed.
“Well, it wouldn’t be for the lack of opportunity,” she said, caustically, as she rose, picking up the bill.
“Come on, then,” she said, “or we’ll miss closing-time.”
The bill paid, we left the restaurant and began the short walk down to the pub. I slipped an arm round Julie’s waist, and dropped my hand to her tight bottom. She wiggled against my palm, and I thought, again, of Joe ……
“So – did Joe ever get in a tight corner with you?” I blurted out, my pulse quickening in the knowledge that I had waited until we were walking, in the dark, to ask the question I hadn’t dared ask to Julie’s face, in the lighted restaurant.
Her walk slowed, but she didn’t say anything. I blundered on.
“I mean – I know whose bum I’d rather rub against ……” and I squeezed the slowly undulating firm cheek under my palm. Julie stopped and faced me.
“James,” she said. “They didn’t treat me the same as Jeanette – I was younger, for a start – and, well, I wasn’t a pushover, like she was – is. Of course, sometimes, Joe or Sam would have to squeeze past me behind the bar – and, well, sometimes, I would feel something pressing against my bum, but that was unavoidable. The bar was very small and crowded and it’s just one the things that happened from time to time. There was no point in me getting upset about it, was there?”
“No,” I agreed. “No – I didn’t mean – but – did he ever, you know, take advantage? Like he did with Jeanette – deliberately rubbing against you, I mean?”
“Why?” asked Julie. “If I say ‘yes’, are you going to biff him one when you meet him? Remember, I wasn’t your wife, then – I didn’t even know you.”
“No, of course I won’t ‘biff’ him,” I said. “I just …… wanted to know,” I finished, lamely.
“Well,” said Julie, turning away and beginning to walk on. “Well – yes,” she said. “I suppose Joe did, once or twice, when he had had a drink or two – but it was just in fun, James – not like it was with Jeanette ……”
She walked on a little more, in silence, and then added – “And, you know, James, it’s not always a nasty feeling for a girl, even a young one, like I was, then, to feel herself to be the cause of a man’s arousal, his excitement. It was quite exciting for me, too, feeling Joe’s hard – well, yes, his hard cock – pressing against the cleft between my bum-cheeks, and his hands gripping my hip-bones, pulling me back against him ……”
Her voice trailed off again, then she suddenly turned and threw her arms round me, hugging me tight, grinding herself against me. Her voice breathed harshly in my ear – “Ooooohhhhh, yes, James – sometimes it was exciting – really exciting – sometimes it made me wet, and I would wish …… I would wish I could be like Jeanette …… remind me about it again when we get back to the cottage tonight, and I’ll tell you how it felt – then I’ll be like Jeanette, for you ……”
I thought she was going to climax as I felt her shudder against me – she began to wrap her leg around my thigh, but then she suddenly pushed herself away and began to run.
“Come on!” she called, over her shoulder, her dress flying up round her gorgeous tanned thighs, and I set off in as hot pursuit as my raging erection would allow ……
Having met Sam, there was no mistaking Joe – despite the close-cropped fair hair, and the absence of jewellery in his ear, or anywhere else, for that matter. The physical resemblance, otherwise, between the two brothers, was total, but, I realised, at first sight, that there was a gentleness in Sam which was markedly absent in his older (by 15 minutes, Julie had told me) brother.
They were both behind the bar, when we arrived. The pub was very crowded, and there were two barmaids in evidence, as well – both young, both fairly attractive. I wondered if either, or both, were being screwed by Joe, or Sam, or both ……
Julie surprised me by sitting at the only vacant table, just inside the door, and asking me to go and fetch the drinks. It was Joe who served me, but Sam looked up as he was pushing the glasses over the counter, and greeted me.
“Hello again, James,” he exclaimed. “Glad you made it back! Make them doubles, Joe – on the house – this is Julie’s husband!”
Joe looked up, grinned, and thrust a hand over the bar – but his eyes slid over my shoulder, searching for Julie, and, the second he spotted her, he was off. I watched as he advanced on our table and, once again, Julie surprised me by remaining seated as Joe bent down and kissed her cheek, as if he were her elder brother. Her demeanour was markedly different that it had been when she had been reunited with Sam, earlier – her smile hesitant, shy, almost nervous, but, as with Sam, her eyes locked onto Joe’s as they sat, heads bent, talking, in the hubbub of the noisy bar – and, I noticed, the fingers of her left hand quickly became entwined with his.