tagNovels and NovellasThe Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 17m

The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 17m


The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 17m: The Batting Order Ch. 13


We walked into the main room of the pavilion after placing the plants and coconut in my car.

The room was full of people taking sandwiches and cups of tea from the bar. It was like an oven in there. Hot bodies too close together. I couldn't see Lynda and Ian. Perhaps they had sneaked off as well.

"Paul? Mary asked, as we pushed through the crush. "What did you take Jenny away for? You knew we would be busy."

Paul spluttered. I had better get my defence in first.

"I shouldn't have gone, I know." I said sadly. "But Paul wanted to see the stalls."

"He'll never grow up."

"Can you pass those sandwiches along?" Paul asked.

"Don't you think you should wash your hands first." Mary said, catching sight of them. "They are covered in dirt."

I looked at them. I hoped he hadn't had them inside me like that.

Paul looked crestfallen for a second then looked to where Shirley was standing with her back to us washing cup, saucers and plates in the sink. I saw him contemplating washing them in there but he caught his mother's eye and pushed off in the direction of the changing room. I followed him.

"Need to go." I said to Mary.

I got there first from behind the bar and waited for him. He looked at me, then at the crowd he had had to push through.

"Come on." I said. "You guard while I wee."

He opened the door and looked inside. Satisfied it was empty he led the way inside and closed the door behind us. There were hooks for clothing on three of the walls and a large frosted glass window in the forth. In the far corner there was a door leading to the toilets and showers. We crossed the room quickly and he opened the door. There were two urinals, two toilet cubicles and two showers with plastic curtains, one of which was drawn. Paul had his prick out and was pointing it at the urinal. I stopped and watched as his stream of liquid splashed against the enamel.

Oh. I needed to go and entered the first cubical. It smelt clean in there. Paul's mother must have visited with the air freshener. I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them and my panties down past my knees as I sat down.

I broke wind as my cheeks touched the seat. It was immediately followed by an emptying from both holes. Ah. I gasped out loud. That was better. I pulled off some paper and wiped my anus. Then some more paper for my fanny. I dabbed at it gingerly. It was a bit sore. I don't suppose I should be surprised at that. Paul had had me three times already today and Lynda had given me a long fingering on the way down. Another piece of paper for my anus and I was done. I'd half expected Paul to climb onto the seat in the next cubicle to try and watch me but he hadn't. Perhaps he was taking my refusals to heart and wasn't interested anymore. I hoped not.

The tap was running. He was washing his hands.

I stood up and flushed the toilet, pulling up my jeans and panties. Pulling up the zip and buttoning the top I stepped out. I walked to the sinks and washed my hands, drying them on the long towel.

"Alright." I said, rubbing my hands on the backside of my jeans. "Shall we go?"

"Okay." Paul said, opening the door.

He raised a finger to his lips and closed the door with a thud.

I looked at him. He pressed his finger tight against my lips.

"Do you think they've gone?" I could hear Lynda's voice from the shower cubicle.

"Sure." Came Ian's voice panted in reply. "Don't worry."

Lynda gave the little moan she gave whenever I touched her clit.

"Oh yes."

"Yes." Came Ian's reply. "Help me get it in. Turn around woman."

I imagined Lynda turning away from Ian and, bending from the waist, resting her head on her hands against the wall of the shower.

"Open your legs." Ian urged.

I glanced across at Paul. He was watching me. Gauging my reaction. I should drag him from there. It wasn't right to listen to my best friend being fucked. Despite its soreness I could feel my fanny begin to moisten as I listen to the grunts and groans from behind the shower curtain. I wanted to touch myself.

"Ah." Lynda stifled a cry of pleasure.

I had to rub my pubic mound to relieve the pressure building inside me. Paul was coming closer. His hand was on my waist. His other hand was fumbling with my zip, pulling it down. His hand was inside my panties searching for my clit. It was throbbing. It was sore. It was great.

It was my turn to gasp out loud as he flicked it from side to side. I could hear Ian panting and Lynda's sighs. They were both becoming more urgent. Paul's finger was moving faster.

I threw back my head as I came.

I could hear Ian and Lynda. From their sounds they were nearly there. Paul removed his hand and opened the door. We tiptoed into the dressing room as Lynda cried out in orgasm.

The door to the main room opened and Mary showed her head around the edge.

"Ah. You've finished have you?" She said, stepping into the room. "Take over from me please, Jenny. Will you stand guard, Paul? I need to go."

Paul stood by the door as Mary entered and closed it behind her. I hoped Ian had finished. Lynda had told me how it was not unusual for him to come twice or even three times without taking it out of her. I hoped she wasn't getting sore.

Back in the main room I served a couple of cups of tea. The room was beginning to empty. The umpires were walking out into the middle of the pitch followed by the East Chipstable team. I glanced up at the team list on the notice board behind the bar. Roger and Bill were going to bat first. There was a burst of applause from outside and I looked through the window. They were making their way out. Ron, the curate came into the room.

"I'd best get padded up." He said, heading towards the changing room.

I could hear voices coming from inside. Loud voices.

"How could you." Mary's voice.

"Ah. It was nothing." Ian's voice came back in reply. I wished I was in there.

"What's going on?" David asked.

He followed Ron into the changing room.

"What's happening?" Shirley hissed into my ear.

"Well." I spoke softly, turning my back to the bar. "It seems that Ian and Lynda are in the shower together and Mary went in to use the toilet."

"Were they there when you were in there?"


"What were they doing?"





She had a smile on her lips.

"And you think Mary caught them?"

The door was thrown open and Lynda burst into the room.

"I'm not being spoken to like that." She shouted.

"Calm down." I said, stepping towards her.

"No." She snapped back.

Everybody was looking at us.

"Lynda? Isn't it." Ron spoke softly and came to stand by our side.

"Who are you?" Lynda snapped.

"This is Ron." I explained, holding her hand. "He's the curate."

"Sorry vicar." Lynda looked at him.

The pressure of her hand on mine increased. I returned the squeeze.

"Let's all sit down quietly and discuss it." Ron suggested.

He had a lovely voice. So steady and comforting. I'd go with him if he asked me.

"Come on." Ron insisted gently. "It'll be alright."

Lynda released my hand and allowed Ron to lead her back into the changing room. At the door he stopped and turned and smiled, first at me then at Shirley.

The door closed then re-opened again and Paul came out carrying his cricket gear.

"I'd best get changed." He said, placing one boot on a chair and starting to buckle on his pads.

"What happened?" Shirley and I asked as one.

"Mother heard some noises from behind the shower curtain and pulled it back." He replied in a low voice, looking around the room.

There were at least another ten people in the room all pretending not to be paying attention to what he was saying whilst straining their ears to hear.


Sod the others. I wanted to know what had happened.

Paul changed legs.

"Well." He looked around again.

I was sure everybody had edged a little closer.

"I heard my mother shriek so I opened the door."

He undid the top buttons of his cricket whites and slid his protector inside his underpants. I could see his pubic hairs as he adjusted it into place. If I could that meant Shirley and just about everybody else in the room could.

"Paul." I hissed. "Not in front of everyone."

"Oh." He said, turning his back to the room. "Sorry."

"Can I have a sandwich?"

He moved over to where the last of the sandwiches lay on a single plate.

"Not many left." He observed picking up a sorry looking specimen and taking a bite.

I poured him a cup of tea. Shirley topped it up with milk from a bottle.

"Well." He said.

People were definitely moving closer.

"There were Lynda and Ian standing up in the shower."

He took another bite from his sandwich.

"Ian was still. You know. Inside her."

"Wow!" Shirley exclaimed.

I felt really embarrassed for Lynda. Men seem to think it's a joke when somebody sees them doing it. I could see Paul did.

"What happened?" Shirley asked.

What's come over her? I thought. She doesn't normally like discussing sex, certainly not with the opposite sex present.

"Well." Paul took a mouthful of tea. "Ian pulled it out of Lynda. Mother shrieked again and I pulled the shower curtain closed. We went back into the changing room and then the shouting started. My mother really blew her top. I don't know what came over her. I suppose she has been under a little stress what with organising everything today and running a stall in the marquee."

And if she suspected David of having it off with Shirley? After what I had seen at the back of the building an hour ago there was little doubt they were. I looked at her. She turned her head away.

Hmm. I think a bottle or two of wine and good long talk to Shirley was in order when we got back to Bristol. I'd get it out of her. Paul can have an evening in the pub, playing darts.

There was a burst of applause from outside. Through the open door I could see Bill plodding back to the pavilion. Jim Clark poked his head around the edge of the door.

"Where's Ron?" He asked.

"He's tied up for a few minutes." Paul replied. "I'd best go out."

"Ok." Jim nodded. "I'll tell the scorers. Well played, Bill."

His last remark was directed towards Bill who entered looking dejected.

"That's the fastest bowler I've ever faced." He said, sitting in a chair and unbuckling a pad. "I didn't even see it. Clean bowled me."

Paul looked ashen as he picked up his bat and gloves.

"You can tell he's on the counties books." Bill asked. "Are you in next?"

"Yes." Paul said.

I could see he was swallowing hard.

"Wish me luck."

He placed his old school cap on his head. I rushed up to him and kissed him on the cheek.

"Go on." I encouraged. "You can do it."

"Good luck, Paul." Shirley said from behind the bar where she was pouring Bill a cup of tea.

What could happen to him? It was only a game.

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