The Cycling Holiday

Also, once Derek had finished his lunch, he went off to use the phone, and when he returned, he said to his friends,

"Right that's all arranged, so make sure you've got everything out of the boat that you'll need for the rest of the day."

And then looking at me and Tom,

"Oh and that includes you and Tom; we're going off on a jaunt and won't be back until around mid-night."

So everybody finished up their drinks, and back to the boat we went to pick-up; well in my case, my make-up bag, and a cardie. Just in case it came in cold later.

And then once we were all ready, and the boat was secured, off we went to the pub car park. And waiting for us when we got there was a chauffeur, standing next to a big new 'Range Rover'. Not the short wheel-base one, like my dad used. This was the top of the range, big long one, like you'd see film-stars or even the queen using. We all got in, and off we went. We'd hardly even set off before Tom asked Derek,

"I guess all your pals know where we're going, so when are you going to let us into your secret?"

"Its no secret, we're off to meet a baby-maker."

"What? Another of your cronies with a big dick?"

"Well I've never met the man, so I'm not aware of his endowment."

"So why the title baby-maker?"

"It's another of the rural myths and legends I'm looking into. This is one about a pub, and according to a report on TV, any woman who sits on a certain stool in this pub, will become pregnant within a month."

I pricked up my ears on hearing this, and asked,

"Is that true."

"Its true the TV reported it, but from my research, I think there's a bit more to it than just sitting on a stool."

"But what ever it involves, does it really help women to conceive?"

"Again, that's what I'm going to investigate. He's supposed to have a success rate of ninety-five percent. And considering the women who go there must be already struggling, that's pretty impressive."

I looked at Tom,

"Is this fate?"

"Don't be silly."

Derek picked up on the desperation in my voice,

"Don't tell me you're having problems in that area?"

"Yes, but its down to me."

"You've both been checked out by the doctor?"

"No, but as Tom's already fathered a child elsewhere, and. Well let's just say, we know it's me."

"Ok, I won't pry. I assumed as you didn't object to taking cum, you must be on the pill."

"No. There's no need for that."

"So if this man has got some magic potion to help you have a baby, would you be interested."

"Course we would."

Then as I looked at Tom,

"Wouldn't we?"

"Depends how much it costs."

Derek said,

"As far as I'm aware, it's free. And I was going to try to persuade you both to act as a couple needing his assistance. But it seems like you fit the Bill, without needing to act. So how about it?"

I burst out with,

"Of course we will."

Derek looked at Tom,

"And you?"

"I'll play along and see what it entails. But I'm not promising I'll go through with any old shit."

"I understand where you're coming from. There are limits."

I protested angrily,

"What limits? If he can help us have a baby, I don't care if it means rubbing your cock with horse shit; we'll do whatever it takes."

Derek looked at Tom as he said,

"Oops. Looks like the little lady has already made up her mind she's up for it."

He then changed the subject, and tried to smooth things over. And so the next few minutes, there was an unmistakable frosty atmosphere, especially between Tom and I. But as the conversation topics changed, we gradually mellowed and by the time we'd reached the village of Corley, things were back to normal. We pulled into the car-park of the 'Blue Cat', and Derek looked at Tom.

"Well lad, are you up for this? Or shall I get one of the lads to act the part of her husband?"

"I'll do it."

"That's my boy. And just to show I appreciate your cooperation, here's a ton."

And he gave Tom two more fifty pound notes.

"Ok, I'd like to film what takes place, but it's my guess, if he knows its being filmed, he'll not show the full ritual. So I want you two to go in, and just tell him your heart-break story. If I was you, I'd skip the bit about knowing Tom has already fathered a child, and go with the conventional doctor and negative test route. Follow it through as far as you can, and only when we know what the real method is, will I then ask him to repeat it for the camera."

So in we went, and at the bar, Tom asked,

"Is this the pub where you've got some kind of magic stool?"

The girl turned, and called,

"Tom; there's another couple wants to know about the stool."

She turned back to us,

"He'll be with you in a second. Can I get you both a drink?"

Tom instinctively replied,

"I'll have a bitter."

But I butted in,

"No you won't. You've still got the medication from that hospital visit in your blood. We'll have two glasses of orange squash please."

Tom didn't argue, and just as she left the bar, the landlord, who was also called Tom, came sauntering across. He lent on the bar and up close to us, speaking in a low voice,

"I guess you heard about it from someone who saw it on the telly?"

I said anxiously,

"Yes. Does it really work?"

"Do you believe in superstition, black cats, walking under ladders and the like?"

Tom beat me to the reply,

"No. That's all shit."

"Hmm. Colourful language. But you're right. But some people do, and they go and sit on that stool in the corner, and go away happy."

I asked,

"And they then conceive?"

"I have no idea; I don't keep a record of what happens to them."

"So are you saying you do keep a record of some couples?"

"Oh yes"

"So the story on TV, isn't there any truth in that?"

"Well it's like this. It all started when three local women all fell pregnant one after another in just a few weeks. Well; once a local wag pointed out that they'd all sat on that stool, and he then made-up the ridicules idea of the stool having magic properties. Then the rumour spread and we got other women coming to sit on the stool."

"And they got pregnant?"

"No, well we never heard of any."

"So there isn't a magic way to get pregnant?"

"Well not magic, but maybe a common sense way."

"And that is?"

"Well you have to have tried all other methods, and be prepared to undergo a little embarrassment. I mean, I guess by now, if you've had all the tests, you'll know more than me about how much mucking about doctors do inside your knickers."

I blushed, but in truth I hadn't actually gone through that, but I knew women who had. But something in what he'd said, raised Tom's hackles,

"This hadn't better be a sneaky way of getting into her knickers."

"Well I have to admit, that is what it started out to be."

Tom looked daggers,

"You what?"

"No hear me out. It was my sons really. They're twins, and at the time they were both twenty-one. Apparently, one of them was serving, when a pretty young girl came in and asked about the stool. He asked where her husband was, and she said, 'oh he's working the late shift'. So the cocky little buggers strung her some line about sitting on the stool with no knickers on. And while she went out to the ladies to take her knickers off, he rubbed some ointment onto the stool; I'm not too sure what it actually was. So when she came out, minus her knickers, he got her to sit on the stool and squirm around a bit. She immediately said she could feel her fanny getting warm, so my Jack-the-lad, says. 'That's a sign its working, come with me, and we'll complete the procedure.' She went like a lamb to the slaughter, following him up to his room, where he up-ended her, and after first sponging the cream off, then began to lick her fanny to cool it. Well once he'd got to licking, and she'd just started to mellow, he concocted up some cock and bull story about the secret being the length of his cock. It's a genetic thing; both my sons must have inherited it from me. You see we've all got very long cocks, mine's in nearly twelve inches."

I saw the look on my Tom's face; it was as if to say, 'another freak'. But he didn't actually say a word. But I'm sure the landlord didn't pick-up on Tom's look, he just continued with his explanation.

"Well young Garry persuaded this girl that the extra length of his cock was the real reason women were getting pregnant, not the stool. And believe it or not, she fell for it. So he's banging away, thinking how clever he's been conning her into his bed, when into the room comes my other son. Now again, I'm not proud of this, or don't condone the practice. But apparently, what happened next, they'd done before. One of them gets a girl on the bed, and then after a few minutes fucking, they turn her over, to get the girl on top, facing towards the bed. And once the other one is in position above her, the one on the bed holds her tight, and they both take the girl at the same time."

My Tom chipped in,

"Up her bum."

"Oh no. I know I said they have long cocks, but again, like mine, they're peculiarly thin. So they both take her fanny. They fucked her good and proper, until she had what they say was a major orgasm. Now this is where it gets really bizarre. I mean you'd have expected her to throw a wobbler, but she just accepted that this must be part of the ritual. She went on her way happy, and the boys just put it down to experience, and hoped to be able to repeat the game the next time a gullible woman came along."

Tom said,

"So where's all this leading up to?"

"It was six weeks later, when the girl appeared in the pub again, this time, all beaming smiles, and running across the bar-room, she flung her arms around my lad's neck and gave him the biggest smacker you've ever seen."

"She hit him?"

"No. Kissed him. And her husband was only a few steps behind her. When she'd finished kissing, he then shook my lad's hand. She was pregnant, and they were over the moon. But it didn't stop there, in the meantime, since they'd tricked her, they'd had three more women, and over the next few weeks, all three of them returned to say they were with child. It was at that point, they came clean, and told me what had been going on."

I excitedly asked,

"So you think there is something in what they said about the length of their cocks?"

"Well its pure speculation, but I've since researched it, and apparently, some women, can conceive, but the opening to their womb, is either restricted, or takes a lot of stimulation to get it to open enough. But what ever the case. I've got records now, and sixty-seven women have opted to try our procedure."

Tom interrupted,

"You mean let your sons fuck them?"

"Well yes. But out of sixty-seven, fifty-eight have now had healthy babies."

"So if we want your help, it means agreeing to my wife getting fucked by your sons? Both at the same time?"

"Well it would if they were both here. But one has now married, and left home, he lives in Essex now."

"So it was a waste of time us coming?"

"Well not really, see he left some time ago, and I stepped in at the request of one lady."

I asked excitedly,

"And she had a baby?"

"Oh yes, a big beautiful bouncing boy. And since then, I've been involved in the last thirty-two procedures."

I looked at Tom,

"Please Tom."

"You believe all that shit?"

As the landlord handed Tom a book, he said,

"Read it. But remember, all those names in there are confidential. Read what they say. And if you're still not sure, some of them have actually agreed to accept phone calls from me, so you can talk to them direct. But it's only reasonable, that nobody would want you going around calling."

"Please Tom, it all looks genuine. And if it isn't, what have we lost?"

"So if I agree, what happens next?"

"I take down your details, like the ones in the book you've just read, and you sign, like those couples have done."

"Then you fuck my wife?"

"We do. If that's too much for you to take, then this procedure isn't for you. Don't worry, two out of every three couples who I've explained this to; reject the idea. Mind you, I've had five of those who've rejected first time, come back and sign-up."

I asked,

"And did those five get pregnant?"

"Four did. One only came back last week, so we won't know for a week or two yet."

By now, I'd made my mind up. If Tom thought it was acceptable to sell my body for money. Then the prospect of getting pregnant, no matter how slim the chance, fully justified, allowing this man and his son equal access to my body. I picked up the pen we'd just signed the confidentiality agreement with, and signed to give him full permission. Tom said,

"I'm still not sure."

I put the pen in Tom's hand,

"Sign it now, or say goodbye."

"What's got into you?"

I glared at him,

"I mean it Tom."

"Ok. Ok. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

As Tom finished his signature, the landlord asked,

"Are you coming up to watch?"

I didn't wait for his answer,

"No he's not. I don't want anything to distract me. I want this to work."

The landlord looked at Tom,

"I guess you're ok with that?"

"Looks like I don't get a say in it."

"Ok luv. Let's go find my son, and see if we can ring that bell for you. And I guess while we're sorting out your wife, you might as well fill in the details in my book."

He took me up to a bedroom, and after knocking on the door and hearing,

"Come in."

We entered what I assumed was his sons bedroom.

"Nice one dad. She looks mint. What's your name luv?"

"Kelly."

"I'm Brad. Come on, don't be shy."

He held out his hand and pulled me towards himself. And then as I stood directly in front of where he was sat on the edge of his bed, he just slid both hands up under my dress. Each hand stroked lightly up the outsides of my legs, and as they reached my waist, his finger just hooked into the waistband of my knickers. Whereupon, without asking, he just slowly pulled them down. As they reached my ankles, again, without him asking, I lifted each leg out in turn.

He lifted the knickers, put them to his nose, and said,

"Sweet, she's gagging for it."

And then he handed them over to his dad who was stood behind me. I didn't turn, so I can only guess his dad did the same, and then he said,

"She's gonna enjoy this, aren't you luv?"

I didn't really know what to say, but the words that came out were,

"So long as you make me pregnant, I don't care."

At that, the landlord's hands slipped up into my blouse, inside my bra, and he began to fondle my breasts. But Brad, put his hands on the inside of my knees, and spread my legs open, leaving me stood with my feet a good two foot apart. And then as his hands reached my pussy, he said,

"She's dripping already."

So I stood there, while one of them worked my breasts, and the other worked on my wet pouting pussy. They only worked me for a minute or so before I was stripped naked, and eased back onto the bed. Dad continued working my breasts, but now mainly with his mouth and tongue. Whilst son Brad spread my legs wide open, and used the same approach but on my pussy. I lay back, heaved hard, and began to make silly noises of appreciation. Again, this phase of my arousal wasn't kept up for more than a minute or so, before dad was climbing onto the bed, and lying on his back alongside me. I was then manoeuvred into position on my back on top of him, and I felt his cock touching my pouting pussy. He was right about the thickness, it slipped up, and I at first thought they must have been lying about his size. But it was as he'd said, no thickness, but it just kept going up and up. And then once he'd got his whole length up inside me, Brad climbed up, and began to push his cock into my already occupied hole. But it just opened, and in he went, slipping in alongside his dad.

They both started to shaft in and out, but their pace wasn't the same. Brad was more impatient, and he was fucking more rapidly. The consequence of this, was sometimes one cock would be going in at the same time as the other was pulling out, and then gradually, they both be pushing up at the same time. And even though neither of them were thick like Derek, when the two of them pushed in together the stretching was just something else. Another thing about this session that was out of kilter, compared with a fuck with Derek or his pals, was that I'd normally get into their rhythm, and heave in opposition, getting deeper penetration. But as they weren't together, I couldn't pickup or sync with them. So it meant sudden unexpected deep penetration, and lots of half ones. But one thing we did manage to get together on, was the climax. I could sense Brad was nearing his ejaculation, and try as I might, there was no way I could hold-off mine until his dad was ready. So as brad began to shoot, my pussy started it contractions, and I went AWOL. But apparently, (I was told later); the dad's cum strokes were triggered by my pussy spasms.

So once I came back to earth, I was shown into a bathroom, and fifteen minutes later the landlord escorted me back downstairs to the room where my Tom had been waiting.

"Here she is, and I'll be surprised if you're not a proud father within nine months."

I turned around, put my arms around his neck, and gave him a long wet passionate kiss. As our lips parted and I dropped back down to my feet, I said,

"Thank you. Even if it doesn't work, thank you for trying. And please tell Brad how grateful I am."

"I will luv. Good luck to you both and don't forget to let me know if it worked."

So full of hope; and I guess full of cum, I happily skipped my way out of the pub on my Tom's arm, and into the waiting Range Rover. Derek and the others weren't in the car waiting for us, but the driver took us the few hundred yards to another pub in the same village, where he asked us to wait while he informed Mr Thompson. I assumed this must be Derek's surname. The driver came back out almost immediately, and informed us they wouldn't be long, and he'd been told to ask us to wait. We only had to wait about ten minutes and then Derek and the others came trouping out. Once we were underway, Tom said,

"So it's an early night then?"

Derek answered him,

"Oh; the night's not over yet. We still have one more place to visit while we're in this neck of the woods. Anyway, are you going to tell me how it went?"

So between us, Tom and I told Derek the whole story of what had taken place in the pub. We had to take our time, as he was writing it all down in a little book. Once our tale was told, Tom asked,

"So what are you going to do now? I thought you wanted to film it."

"Well I do, and I will approach the landlord in due time. But so long as I've got first hand information confirming what I've already been told, then as far as my research is concerned, I'm happy."

"What's this research in aid of?"

"It's just a project of interest to members of our club. And speaking of which, this looks like Meriden coming up now."

"What's here?"

"The Meriden Bull."

"Another pub. And on a day that I'm not allowed to drink."

"Well he's not a pub, he's a man. But we will be meeting him in a pub, and I'm sure the effects of the medication they gave you last night will have worn off by now. I think you deserve a drink for the way you've handled yourself today."

I scowled at Derek for encouraging Tom, but all I got was a wry smile in return. So with the time now approaching eight in the evening, we pulled into yet another pub car park, and all got out. Once inside, we took-over a corner position in the main lounge, with seating all around two tables. A round of drinks were brought to our table, and for me, they'd brought a full bottle of white wine. I remember thinking to myself; I'll have two glasses and no more.