Till Death Do Us Part (TV Sitcom)

Brief intro ~ Till Death Do Us Part was a sitcom on British teevee during the sixties and seventies (it also made a comeback in the nineties); it was often misunderstood by racists who didn't grasp the fact that the leading character was a bigoted buffoon and obviously a laughable, despicable idiot. American readers may know the stolen (literally) US version which featured a character called Archie Bunker. If you've never watched it, then little of what follows will make any sense.

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Alf Garnet was pottering along the street, grumbling to himself. He turned the corner and discovered his daughter Rita loitering outside their terraced house.

"Oh, Dad!" she looked shocked, "What are you doing here?"

"Whatcha mean, 'What am I doing here?' I live here, don't I?"

He went to push the front door open but she side-stepped in front of him.

"But you always play dominoes on a Thursday evening!"

"Well not tonight I don't coz Charlie's bloody sick, ain't he. Got the bleedin' flu, the daft sod."

"But," she tried stop him opening the door, "You can't go in!"

"Whatcha talkin' about, you silly bitch? Gertcha!"

Alf barged Rita's skinny frame out of his way and walked inside. He pulled off his hat and West Ham scarf then stood dumb-founded in the doorway to his lounge. Rita came up behind him in the narrow passage and stood behind him, looking in over his shoulder.

Alf's wife was leaning over on the sofa, her floral dress was pushed up over her large, bare bum. Her voluminous grey knickers had been dragged over to one side and hung loosely on her thigh. Standing behind her, naked from the waist up and with his jeans and underwear around his ankles, was Rita's husband, pounding away happily. Rita and Alf watched as he hammered his long thick cock in and out of Elsie's red, swollen, hairy gash. The only sound in the room was their laboured gasping and the squelching of each forceful shove.

Else looked up and saw that they were being observed; she took the cigarette out of her mouth and tapped it on the lip of the ashtray that was balanced on the arm of the jiggling sofa.

"You're back, are you?" Else said scornfully then replaced the cigarette in her mouth.

"Back?" Alf finally found his voice, "Yes, I bloody well am back!"

"Oh, hello Dad." Mike said cheerily.

Rita and Alf couldn't help watching his pink bumcheeks bouncing as he fucked the old dear.

"Don't you 'Hello' me," Alf ranted, "What the bleedin' hell's going on here then? Eh? Eh?"

"Well," Mike looked confused at the question, "I'm porking your Missus, isn't it obvious?"

"It's obvious to me," Else quipped.

"And me," giggled Rita as she sidled past her flabbergasted father into the room.

Mike never strayed a beat from his hard fucking of the chubby, wobbling woman bent over in front of him.

"But..." said Alf.

"Why aren't you at the pub?" asked Else.

"But..." said Alf.

"If you will come home unexpected, you never know what you'll find."

"But..." said Alf.

"I haven't cooked you any tea."

"She hasn't had time, have you Mum?" Mike grinned and his mother-in-law smirked back at him over her shoulder.

"Never mind my bloody tea! How long's this been going on? It's marvellous, innit? Turn your back for five bloody minutes and this goes on."

"Oh, you do go on," complained Rita, "They're only having a bit of fun."

"A bit of fun!?" Alf was stunned, "You call this a bit of fun?"

"Mum needs some fun in her life, living with you!" Rita's goat was got.

"Shaddup you." Alf stood next to the humping young man, "Attacking my wife! In my own home! On my own sofa, no less! As God is my witness, I'll..."

"You'll what?" Rita was contemptuous.

"Hey, why don't you just cool it?" Mike joined in the argument as he screwed, "You're off your head, you are. Nothing's wrong. You love our Thursday night get-togethers, don't you, Mum?"

"Can't you piss off back to the pub for an hour?" Else stubbed out her cigarette and lit another.

Alf stumbled over to his armchair and sat.

"Bloody marvellous, innit," he grumbled.

Rita came over and sat on the arm of his chair.

"This is the sixties, Dad," she said, "A woman is entitled to her orgasms. And when Mum mentioned you'd never given her one."

"I've given her plenty of ones, don't you worry about that!"

"Cobblers!" Mike called over as he picked up the pace, making Else squeal with delight.

"Aw Dad," consoled Rita, "There's no shame in being a lousy lay. Things were different in your day. Now a man is expected to pleasure his woman, to perform for her, to work at her enjoyment."

"I'll perform enough for both of us!" Mike grinned.

Else was quietly climaxing on his pummelling cock, her cigarette dancing on her lips.

"Don't give me none of that Women's Lib nonsense. How can you condone this, girl? Your poor, beloved Mother, gawd bless her, being boinked by this randy socialist scouse git?"

"I don't usually stay and watch, but... don't you think they look scrummy? All hot and sweaty and... yummy."

Rita slid over and dropped herself in her daddy's lap. She immediately began squirming and turned slightly to speak to him.

"See!" she said accusingly, "You hypocrite, I can feel how excited you are, watching them go at it. And poor Mum needs loving too."

"But..." Alf said.

They went quiet as Mike grit his teeth and grunted like a farm animal, he was evidently emptying his balls into the quim of Alf's quivering wife.

"She told us you haven't touched her since the coronation," Rita said, after a moment.

"Even then he'd been drinking too much to do it properly, the drunken pig!" Else adjusted her dislodged spectacles.

"I mean, blimey, that was a decade ago!" Mike pulled his stiff dick out of Else's sloppy, cummy pussy with a loud plop.

"Listen, Sonny Jim-" Alf was silenced by the sight of the large, stiff, spermy cock waving around as Mike crossed the room.

Without waiting on a formal invitation, Mike slid his slimy prick into Rita's waiting mouth and she began slobbering and sucking all her mother's juices from her husband. She felt her father stiffen even more underneath her bottom.

Else had stood up and was pulling up her knickers.

"Thank you, Michael," she said, "It was lovely, as usual."

"No worries, love," Mike replied as he patted the top of his wife's head, "I'm only sorry we were rudely interrupted."

"I know, he ruins everything, him." Else straightened up her dress as she left the room.

"Look, look," an anguished Alf pleaded, "Rit, could you just get up off o' me? I don't wanna watch you do... that."

Rita pulled her mouth off Mike's cleaned cock.

"Dad, this is the permissive age," she said, licking her spunk-sodden lips, "If only you'd climb down off your high horse we could have a little fun ourselves."

She took his hand and guided it along her creamy white thigh, up under the hem of her dress and pressed his nervous fingers to her warm panties.

"Rit..." he gasped as he felt her lips open to the motions of their joined hands.

"Mm?" Rita was using his fingers to masturbate through her damp cotton crotch.

Mike stood watching his wife seduce her father, stroking his long prick and smiling smugly. Rita was smirking up at him as she wriggled about in her daddy's lap.

"We can't do this," said Alf, "It's not right."

"They're doing it," Rita argued, "Why can't we?"

"It's not the same, is it? We're bio-bolo-biolodge... we're family, ain't we? They ain't! We are of the same blood, made by God. The good book says so."

"Don't bring god into it, for christ's sake," joked Mike.

"Shaddup you. I wouldn't expect you to understand, Shirley bloody Temple. I don't know why you'd wanna be slinging your whatsit up the great big fat pudding anyway, when you have a beautiful, charming young wife to... to..."

"To screw?" Rita suggested, "Dad, I feel your whatsit poking into me, don't pretend you don't want me too."

Rita was pressing his hand harder as she ground her eager pussy on both their fingers.

"Well, maybe we could..." Alf leaned forward and whispered in his daughter's ear.

"Stuff it up my arse!?" Rita shrieked with joy.

"Shhhhhh," pleaded Alf.

Mike fell back on the sofa laughing loudly. Rita stood up giggling. Else entered, carrying a tray loaded with cups and a teapot.

"What's so funny?" she asked, placing the tray on the table.

"Mum... Mum..." Rita couldn't speak for laughing.

"Typical Tory, he wanted," Mike tried to stop guffawing, "To poke her in the rear!"

Else joined in the giggles. Alf sat in his chair, fuming.

"He wanted to put it up my bum, Mum!" Rita howled with glee and fell on the sofa with her almost naked husband.

"Well," Else started pouring some tea, "I always suspected he might be one of them."

"One of them what?" Alf stood and wagged his finger, "What are you going on about?"

"One of them nancy-boys you hear about."

"I ain't no bloody poofter, you silly moo!"

"Perhaps if I'd offered you my behind..."

"Don't you bloody start! Don't you bloody start!"

Else sat down to drink her tea.

"You should head down the docks, Alf," Mike was yanking up his underwear, "You could probably pick up a rent boy pretty cheap down there!"

"A bum chum!" Rita quipped and they all laughed.

"Shaddup, the lot of you!" Alf grabbed his hat and scarf and stormed out.

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This was just a bit of fun to distract myself, if you enjoyed it and have any ideas about what I could corrupt next (I'm thinking maybe Rising Damp), please leave a comment.