The Cycling Holiday

"I'll be ok once you get me away from here."

Tom turned and asked Mr Ross,

"Can I take her home now?"

"Course you can lad, she's done you proud."

As we drove off, I heaved a sigh of relief, hoping it was now all over. But just a look at Tom's face, told me he wasn't happy. I asked,

"Are you ok?"

"What the fuck do you care?"

"Please Tom. You know I care. All those things I did back there were for you."

"Yeh, like fuck they were."

"But I only did them to save you from a beating."

"Pull the other one; you were taking cock like it was your birthday treat."

"Tom! That's not fair. I never would have gone with any of them if it hadn't been to protect you."

"So why were you screaming for more cock. You made me feel like shit."

There was silence for quite a while, and then I asked,

"Tom."

"What?"

"Tell me you love me."

"Love you? I don't even know you. I thought you were supposed to be a virgin before you met me. And then you go and show me up like that. Even Mr Ross said he'd never seen anything like it. He even offered to let you have a job working for him."

"A job? Doing what?"

"What the fuck do you think, working as a hooker."

"Oh Tom, I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it. Taking those bouncers would have been ok, if you'd just lay there and let them get their rocks off. You weren't supposed to be grunting and begging them to fuck you harder. I was ashamed of you."

Again there was silence. That is if you don't count my crying. Then after a few minutes I gathered all my resolve, and said through my tears,

"Please Tom; tell me you won't leave me?"

"I feel like it. But that fucking old man of yours is likely to come out and hunt me down and blow my fucking balls off."

Again a long pause while I gather my thoughts,

"Its ok Tom, I'll tell dad I chucked you. I don't want you to stay with me just because you're afraid of my dad."

"Afraid! I'm not afraid of nobody. I was just saying the stupid old git will get himself into trouble. I wasn't afraid for myself."

"What ever. I'll tell him tonight. When we get back, just drive into the yard and go, you don't need to come in with me."

"What about all the spunk?"

"What?"

"All that spunk they shot up you. You'll be pregnant for sure now."

"So? What do you care?"

Again a long pause, then Tom said,

"You know your dad will blame me."

"For what?"

"If you're pregnant."

"Not if the baby comes out black with tight curly hair."

"Oh fucking Jesus! I never thought of that. He'd fucking kill me for sure if one of those black Basxxxx's has babied you-up."

"Don't look so worried."

"Why?"

"It won't be his."

"What do you mean?"

I sat there musing to myself, why I was so calm I don't know. What I did know was, I was pregnant, and it had been the man with the big cock. I could feel his sperm swimming around, and I just knew he'd struck the bulls-eye. Tom was all agitated as he again asked,

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"I mean, that third bloke, when we cum together at the end, I could feel his spunk way deep inside me. If I'm pregnant, and I'm sure I am. It'll be his, I know it."

"Oh shit! Look I know someone who knows a doctor."

"Doctor? What for? I've got a doctor."

"No. I mean one who'll get rid of it for you."

"Nobodies gonna get rid of anything. It's my baby and I want it."

"But your dad."

"I told you, if you don't want to face him, you can go. I'm not forcing you to take responsibility."

"But I don't want to go. I want to stay with you."

I lent over and kissed him,

"Then once it's confirmed, we'll get married."

"Just like that. You're forgetting your dad."

"I'm not; I can wrap him around my little finger. If you let them believe it's yours, we'll be married before the summers out."

Well it took quite a few more words to convince him, and before we got home, we'd pulled up in the gateway to a field and had a fuck. One, where he took delight in shooting his cum deep up inside me. And then that night he even came in for supper.

It was only a few days until the next date on my calendar, and as I'd expected, no show. The next day was also a no show, and by then, Tom was bracing himself for the time when the balloon would go up as dad found out. He didn't have to wait long, as on the third day after my due date, mom cornered me,

"Ok my girl, what have you got to tell me?"

"About what?"

"You know about what? Don't forget I still do the washing around here. And that idiot of a boyfriend of yours must have been too drunk that night he took you to that dance."

"What d'you mean?"

"Your knickers. Those stains weren't just leakage from your body. That idiot Tom forgot to use a jonnie that night, didn't he?"

I didn't answer, but with my head held low, I just nodded.

"And now, it's the third day since your due date. You're never late, so I think we can take it, you're with child."

I lifted my head, and said timidly,

"I think so."

"So will Tom marry you?"

"Oh yes."

"Does he know what he's done?"

"Yes, he knows I'm late."

"And he's said he'll stick by you?"

"Yes."

"Ok, let's call your dad."

So she told dad, he grumbled and moaned, but within minutes he was all smiles and in truth, I think he liked the idea of being a granddad. But when Tom arrived, dad took him into his office, and we could here him reading him the riot act. But again, this didn't go on for long, and by the time they came out it was sherry for mom and me, while Tom and dad had a glass of beer. Over the next few days, we went with dad to see the local vicar, and the first set of banns was read that Sunday. Mom and dad took over the arrangements, and on the fourth Saturday after my period had been due, I walked down the isle and married Tom.

I should get back to the story on the boat, but just to quickly finished this part of my tale, on that Saturday, as I was getting ready for my wedding, my period started. No miscarriage, just a normal period. A week or two later, the doctor explained missing a period wasn't all that uncommon, it can be stress related. So Tom and I were married, and dad had rented us a house in the next village. Just temporary, while he had a new house built on his own land, and that is where we now live. Tom tried working for dad, but Tom isn't cut out for farm work, so he got a job in a local hosiery factory on the maintenance. But like a lot of factories around the late eighties, this had closed down, and he was now out of work. Oh, and one other thing was that we'd, or rather Tom had come to the conclusion I was sterile. See Tom recons he'd given a girl a baby a couple of years before meeting me. And since our marriage, we hadn't used any contraception, as I wanted a baby. But three years on, no baby, so Tom said it must be me. He also pointed to that night of the dance, and after all that spunk no baby meant I must be infertile.

Now, back to the boat.

At the end of part one I went off to tell you about how Tom and I met, and the events that led to us getting married. But now I'm returning to this holiday. It had started with a simple cycling holiday, but due to an unfortunate accident when I and my bike ended up in the canal, we (my husband Tom and I) were now on board a hired narrow boat with four men. All of these men were strangers to us not more than a few hours ago. But in this few short hours, two of these men had already told me they would fuck me by the end of this day. And one of them had got me into such a state; I'd even agreed to let him. Something I'd immediately regretted, and didn't intend to go through with. So back on the boat holiday.

Whilst I was washing my clothes through, Dave came into the kitchen and took another four cans of Stout from the fridge. I made a remark about the rate they were drinking at, but all I got was a curt,

"I'd keep my trap shut if I was you."

So that is what I did, kept quiet, and got on with the washing. Once all the clothes were ready, I made my way out to the front, where they were all laughing and joking, but the second I appeared, it all went silent.

"Can one of you help me by putting my washing on the line?"

Again it was Ian who got to his feet, and took the pile of wet clothes off me. But as he did so, he whispered in my ear,

"Look at him; he'll soon be so drunk we'll be able to have you while he's sleeping it off."

I did look at Tom, and Ian's observation weren't too far off the truth. But as Ian began to climb up onto the cabin top deck, I could tell he wasn't in a much better state himself. The laughter of all the men, and the tale telling by Tom had all come to an abrupt end as I'd appeared, so as I turned from handing Ian the clothes, I said sarcastically,

"I'll go and stand out on the back deck with Derek, and then you boys can carry on telling your dirty jokes."

Steve said,

"Don't be silly, you sit over here by me."

But Tom looked at me with a real scowl,

"Let her go, she's like a wet blanket when she gets one of these moods on her."

I turned, and stomped into the cabin, but as I was leaving I heard Steve say,

"I'll go with her, it's about time someone relieved Derek so he can have a drink."

I didn't hear Tom make any kind of remark, it was as if he either didn't realise what Steve had said, or was too drunk to fathom out Steve's motives for joining me. I'd hardly got into the second cabin when I heard Steve from behind me,

"See. That was easy."

I stopped in my tracks and turned around,

"I don't know what you think you've achieved, but if you touch me, I'll scream until Tom hears me."

"No you won't. You want me as much as I want you. Now come on, let's get out the back and send Derek to the front before that idiot starts to smell a rat."

And with that, he turned me back to face the way I was supposed to be going, and pushed me with his hand on my bottom.

So seconds later we appear on the back deck. Steve went up to Derek, and talking directly into his ear, explained the situation; whereupon Derek left us, and made his way to the front. Steve was stood as Tom had been before, one hand on the tiller, but I stood the opposite side, as far away from him as possible, with my back up against the safety rail. As I looked over the upper deck towards the canal that stretched out before us, I saw Derek stand in the front well, and give Steve the thumbs-up sign.

I asked,

"What was that for?"

"It means your old man is busily engrossed in telling another tale."

And as if to confirm this, a round of laughter could be heard coming from the front of the boat.

"Come on then, let's have you over this side."

"Why?"

"So we can have a bit of a cuddle."

"You must be mad. Out here in the open, anyone could see us."

"So? Nobody but your husband knows anything about us. As far as anyone else is concerned, were just two over anxious lovers having a little bit of fun."

"No."

"Hey that's not what we agreed. You made me a promise."

"I wasn't thinking straight. But now I am, you're not going to touch me."

"Is that what you think?"

"It's what I've decided."

"And if I say I'm going to fuck you no matter what?"

I moved forwards to the end of the safety rail, and stood in the gap between the end of the rail and the start of the cabins; right out on the very edge of the boat. Steve said in an apprehensive tone,

"What are you playing at?"

"I'll jump in if you come near me."

"Silly sod. We've only just got you cleaned up and dry from the last time. Why on earth would you want to splash around in that muck again?"

"I mean it. I'll jump if you come near me."

"Ok have it your way. But if I can't have a fuck, I'm going up front with the others."

And then to my horror, he let go of the tiller, walked across to the steps, and in a second he was gone into the cabin. I didn't know what to do. The boat was still going along at the same speed as before, but very slowly, the tiller began to move to one side. I look towards the front, and the boat was now veering towards the canal bank. I'd never steered a boat in my life, and I wasn't sure what I should do. I dashed to the steps and looked into the cabin, but Steve was nowhere to be seen. I dashed back to the tiller, and took hold of it. I pulled, but it didn't seem as if it was going to move. I heaved even harder, and by now I was in a state of panic. But just as I thought we'd ram the canal bank, the tiller slowly began to ease towards me. And a look forwards, confirmed the front was now turning away from the bank.

Just as my panic started to subside, Steve appeared, and I had nowhere to run to. I turned, grabbed the safety rail behind the tiller, and tried to climb over. But the rail was too high for me to kick my leg up and over. And then as I tried to duck down, Steve was there, with his arm thrusting under my arm, and around my body. So as he stood there with one hand holding the tiller, his other arm held me suspended facing the deck, with my legs kicking in fresh air.

"You might as well give in; you know I'm gonna fuck you."

"Let me down."

"I will if you'll stop being so silly. All I want is for you to stand next to me."

I knew there was no way I could fight my way free, and I didn't want to attract Tom; knowing what his reaction would be. So I took a gamble on playing along with him.

"Ok. Ok, you win. Let me down, and I'll let you have your cuddle. But that's as far as it goes."

In seconds, I was standing alongside him, and his arm was around my back, with his hand stroking my bottom on the outside of the big baggy shorts. Every few moments he'd divert his gaze from the canal ahead, and turn, lean down, and kiss me. These kisses gradually got more intense, and we were now swapping tongues. It was then his hand began to roam from the outside of the shorts, to, at first, a position on my naked flesh at the top of my leg.

I fidgeted as I reminded him,

"I told you. It's just a kiss and cuddle."

His fingers eased up inside the leg of the shorts,

"Come-on, just a little feel."

I didn't want his fingers in there, and I put up a little struggle, but in no time, he was milking the juices from my pussy, as my struggling turned into a token resistance. I think I'd got it fixed in my mind, that while he was responsible for steering the boat, I was relatively safe. So as I squirmed around on his fingers, he kept stoking hot coals onto the fire of my arousal, with hot kisses that drove me wild.

It was during one of these bouts of kissing, that I felt the buckle of my belt slacken, and alarm bells rang in my head. I knew with him steering, he shouldn't have a free hand, and I opened my eyes, to see Derek was back on the tiller. The struggle with Steve suddenly went up several levels, but I was no match for him. And as I realised the shorts were now coming down, without thinking my actions through, I let out a piercing scream. Even as I did it, I knew it was a mistake.

Tom's head appeared looking from the front over the cabin deck. Other heads appeared, and it looked like they were trying to restrain him. I could tell some sort of scuffle was taking place, and then suddenly Tom appeared again. This time he was climbing up onto the cabin top deck. The next part was one of those slow motion events. Tom's hand grabbed the flag-staff, which was in a socket front and centre of the top deck. He hauled himself from the front well benches, using this flag staff to pull against. But I guess Tom being drunk, and the flag staff being only placed into a brass socket (I later found out, it can't be fixed, because it has to be removed to allow the boat to pass under some of the very low bridges). So instead of Tom going up onto the top deck, the staff came away in his hand, and Tom fell backwards over the side of the boat.

One saving grace was the washing line. Well saving for Tom. It meant if Tom held onto the staff, the line would keep him attached to the boat, and thus help with his rescue. But as the line dragged across the roof, it dragged both bikes off, and dumped them in the canal. And all my clothes being hung loosely on the line, washed off and were floating in the water. But at this point, none of that mattered.

Now these boats only do four miles an hour, so you'd think this part would really be in slow motion. But it was only moments after Tom hit the water, that we saw him floundering as he passed the back deck where Steve and I were. But in those few moments, Steve had released me, and he'd also knocked the boat out of gear (so the big propeller under the boat didn't suck Tom under, and cut him to pieces). I was screaming at Steve,

"For god's sake stop the boat and save Tom. Please, I'm begging you. He can't swim."

"I can't use reverse gear until he passes the prop."

The next second, Tom floated passed the back deck where we stood, and Steve selected reverse, and revved the engine. And then he turned to me and said,

"Be quick with your answer, do I get my fuck or not?"

I didn't hesitate,

"Save him, I'll do anything."

He stripped naked, and launched himself off the back of the safety rail. I was looking back watching Tom drift further away, but when the slack in the rope was taken up as the boat glided onwards, it wrenched the flag-staff from Tom's hand. There was a great deal of splashing, but it only lasted seconds before Tom's hands disappeared under the water. It had taken Steve under a minute to reach the end of the rope, but Tom was no longer there. I saw Steve taking a deep breath, and then he dived under the water. The time Steve was underwater was like an age, and I even began to fear for his life as well as Tom's. But they did both surface, and after taking a few seconds to get air, Steve swam on his back, with Tom held out of the water on his chest.

The boat was brought to the bank, and I jumped off (this time without any assistance) and I ran back to where Steve had pulled Tom out of the water. Tom was lying face down, head over the bank's edge, face dangling over the water. Steve was astride Tom's torso, and he was alternately, taking Tom's wrist, and lifting them up behind his back where he'd bring them together. Then as he returned his arms to a crucifix position, he'd heave hard with open palms on Tom's back. Each time he pressed like this, Tom's head would roll back, and floods of dirty black water would pump from his mouth. I watched in amazement, marvelling at how Steve was so knowledgeable to know what to do. But as Steve pumped again and again, I began to realise, for all his efforts, it was to no avail. I looked at Dave who was stood alongside me, but he lowered his head, and shook it slowly from side to side.

I let out a scream, and then as my hands covered my face, I turned to Dave and buried my head into his chest. His arms wrapped around me, and he gently patted my shoulders as I cried hysterically. Ian patted Steve on his shoulders and said,

"Give it up. You did all you could."

But Steve didn't stop, although the water had all but stopped pumping out, Steve just kept up his methodical rhythm. I'm not sure how long or how many more of Steve's stomach pumping manoeuvres had been given, but as the noise of my screaming reduced, I heard a coughing. Well almost a choking rather than coughing. Then I heard Ian say,

"My god! He's alive!"

I turned and Steve was now rubbing Tom's back, as Tom threw up the contents of his stomach. This was a sight I'd seen many times, and before I'd always feel disgusted at Tom for his drinking to excess. But now I could have kissed him for just coming back to me. But kissing wasn't possible just yet, he brought up every drop of Stout he'd drunk, plus his breakfast, and by the look of it, maybe even some of yesterday's food. He did eventually stop throwing-up, and Steve fell back lying on the canal bank naked, and he looked completely done-in. Ian and Dave put an arm under each of Tom's shoulders, and they began to walk him back towards the boat. Derek draped a big bath towel over Steve, and bent down beside him.