Uncle and nephew spit roast a bird

"I'm happy to be a test subject."

He turned to her and said, "Roast chicken two ways today for the main course. Just to give myself some pressure, you can watch me finish off prepping the starter and put it into the oven."

John laughed, "You're a better man than I am, Gerald Din."

She recognised the Kipling reference and suspected it was a family joke. She sipped her G&T and watched as Gerald greased a casserole dish with butter, coated it with parmesan cheese, took a bowl out of the fridge and folded in an egg-white mixture. He then poured the result into the casserole and put it in one of three ovens in the kitchen.

"Starter in thirty-five minutes. John, please entertain our guest while I sort out the. I'll join you in ten minutes or so."

John led her to the music room, sat beside her on the sofa, and their knees touched.

He said, "I gather that you will be going to the engagement party next weekend at the Wainwrights. I'll be glad to have someone nearer my age there who I know."

"I don't know that many people myself, but Bianca is a good friend from university. There will also be two friends of mine who are your age or perhaps a year older. They are the proverbial life and soul of the party. Anyway, I thought you knew Alison. Surely, you'll have plenty of friends there."

"We went out with each other in the summer holidays before I went to college, and she went to secretarial school. I'm not certain her fiancée is interested in getting to know me, and I didn't really get to know her other friends. Our friendship was ...." He struggled for a phrase which did not make it clear that they spent most of it in a horizontal position.

"If it helps, Bianca says that her sister enjoyed her time with you. Apparently, you were both a considerate and energetic boyfriend."

She saw the man simultaneously blush and look proud as she winked at him. He recovered, "It's good to have such a testimonial, but please don't tell her fiancée that."

She laughed, "I don't think it will come up in conversation. Perhaps she will tell some of her female friends who will want to get to know you. Seriously though, Dom and Pete know how to get a party going and will ensure that we both enjoy ourselves and meet new people. Anyway, I'll certainly dance with you. Do you dance as well as you play the piano?"

"Afraid not. Back when I was fourteen, I thought it was gay to learn how to dance with women. Instead, I played rugby and put my head between two men's arses in a scrum to show my masculinity." He winked at her.

OK, he had a sense of humour. "It's never too late to learn. You must have a good sense of rhythm, which is a good start."

"I joined the Oxford ballroom dancing club to meet more women. I'm told that I'm not bad now. It's just that I'm better at the piano."

"I heard you playing when I was coming through the garden. You are excellent."

He smiled at her and said, "Would you like me to play for you?"

"How about some more Simon and Garfunkel?"

He looked through the sheet music. "Scarborough Fair. Uncle is using parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme to flavour the food."

He played and sang. She moved behind him and joined in the singing when he got to the second verse and read the words on the sheet music. She leaned forward to read the words, and he moved his head back.

At the end, she said, "You have a good voice." His head pressed against her breasts, and she did not move away.

"Thanks. Again, I didn't really start singing until college. Well, not if you don't count rugby songs."

"Don't tell me. Singing was gay."

"Oh yes. Mind you, I may not have got into Oxford if I had performed in HMS Pinafore with the girls' high school and discovered women at sixteen. Well, that's what I tell myself. Still leaves the question of whether it was worth it."

She heard a laugh at the door and saw Gerald still in his apron, smiling at the two of them. He said, "John, will you open the Crémant?"

John excused himself, and Gerald approached her, kissed her on the cheek and squeezed her bum. "Thank you. He's obviously enjoying himself. Are you fine with him taking you out for dinner on Tuesday and Thursday this week?"

"Of course, Gerald. He's got a good sense of humour. It'll be a pleasure."

She checked that John had not returned and whispered, "I'm a little worried it's going too well."

"I don't think that will be a problem. Do you mind if I hint to him that you are looking for a little fun without complications in case he has the same concern?"

"It happens to be true."

John returned with the Crémant in an ice bucket and filled up the glasses, and they all toasted each other.

They exchanged pleasantries, and she went to the bathroom to allow Gerald to brief John. She washed her hands, redid her lipstick, and undid two buttons at the top of her dress to display cleavage.

When she returned, John was alone, "Uncle's basting the chickens. He says he needs to keep them well-lubricated."

She laughed, "They're not the only birds getting well-oiled and lubricated."

She was amused by his reaction and said, "Shall we practice our dancing for next weekend?"

"I would be delighted to. Modern, ballroom or swing?"

"Let's do a waltz."

He put on a record and took her in his arms. It suited her to have a dance where she was close to him and got him used to having his hands on her body. She could also tell that he was reacting to her proximity. He was a better dancer than he had claimed, but it was more technique mixed with confidence rather than a natural skill.

At the end of the dance, Gerald returned and topped up all the glasses. Amber had not had breakfast, and the G&T and sparkling wine had, as she had hoped (and no doubt Gerald had planned), relaxed her already almost non-existent inhibitions.

Soon, it was time for the starter, and John took her into the dining room while Gerald went into the kitchen. There was a table which clearly could seat twelve people, no problem. John placed her at the head of the table and sat next to her on the side furthest from the door. "Uncle G will want to have access to the kitchen. He tells me that we will only get in the way if we try to help, and it suits me to believe him."

"If you believe him, then I will as well."

She looked at the table settings and realised what a difference wealth makes. There were three different types of glasses: a tablecloth, silver plated cutlery, napkins with napkin rings, and placemats, which were beautiful themselves. She could understand why Bianca had married a rich, older husband.

John opened a new bottle of wine -- it seemed to be French. He sniffed the cork, "Uncle will be pleased. Not corked." He poured her and him a new glass.

He looked at her, "Don't worry, I'm not used to eating like this either. This is Uncle G motivating me to work hard in the next few months as well as to impress you."

He paused, "Even though I know that is what he is doing, it still works."

Amber laughed, "He's good at that."

Just then, Gerald brought the ham and cheese souffle and served it. She vaguely knew that a souffle was something only the foolhardy or justifiably confident risked cooking. Unsurprisingly, Gerald was the latter. It had risen to perfection and was fluffy. She savoured each mouthful, closed her eyes, and moaned semi-ecstatically. Hell, if he could cook as well as this, he didn't have to take her to a restaurant to earn a ticket to ride.

Gerald laughed, "That is a very gratifying reaction, Amber." His hand moved under the table and onto her knee and undid another two buttons. It helped that only a spoon was needed to eat the starter.

She bit her lip as she looked him in the eyes, smiled at him, and asked, "What are the herbs and spices?"

"Nutmeg, Cayenne pepper and mustard powder. It gives it a little kick." He adjusted her dress so that the material fell to each side of her legs. He then removed his hand.

John said, "I will have to learn how to cook from you, Uncle." She felt John's hand on her right leg, and she parted her legs to encourage him.

Gerald winked at her as John's hand gradually moved up her right leg. He did not lunge but tested the boundaries. She did not intervene until he discovered the top of her thigh highs. At that stage, she reached under the table and stopped further exploration, although she did not remove the hand and gently squeezed it. She wanted to concentrate on eating.

Soon, the souffle was finished. Gerald returned to the kitchen, saying it would be about fifteen minutes until the main course was ready. John cleared the plates away and refilled her glass. He also brought in the plates for the main course and some additional mats for the serving dishes.

After he had done that, they had the chat. She clarified that Alastair was now an ex-boyfriend, and good riddance. She undid another button on her dress and played with the neckline.

John volunteered that Linda was no longer going out with him but that he knew it was for the best. The hand returned to her knee.

She said she did not feel like a serious relationship for the time being but missed the physical closeness. She parted her legs, and his hand advanced and stroked the inside of her thighs.

He had said he knew what she meant. She had placed her hand on his upper thigh and winked at him.

Gerald arrived and called on John to help bring in the food. He had cooked two chickens today to allow them to compare and contrast different methods. The first, he had cooked in a normal oven. He had prepared a butter, rosemary, tarragon, garlic, and lemon zest mix, which he had placed between the chicken breast and its skin and inside the chicken had been stuffed half a lemon, sage, and more garlic cloves. The juice of the other half of the lemon had been poured over the chicken. The other chicken had been spit-roasted after having had an olive oil and spice mixture rubbed into it and placed in the middle.

Accompanying the chicken were roast potatoes cooked with thyme and parsley, glazed carrots and peas with spring onion and pancetta. A new bottle of wine was opened, and the next part of the feast continued.

There was the usual innuendo about whether they wanted breast, leg, or thigh. John volunteered that he was a breast and thigh man and was busy proving the latter with his hand as Gerald carved the chickens. She was of course a breast woman.

The meal was as delicious as it smelled. Indeed, for a quarter of an hour, the focus was on eating rather than on talking or flirtation. Well, apart from her legs, as she played footsie with both men. To paraphrase the drinking song, she was going to be fucked tonight if she'd never been fucked before.

She said, "That's been the best Sunday lunch I've ever had. I wonder how I can repay your hospitality."

Zero out of ten for subtlety, but so what?

Gerald said, "There is some cheese for later, but perhaps we should have a little pause." His hand moved up her left leg, and he said, "John, could you put the plates in the dishwasher, grind the coffee, and put the pans in to soak? I need to talk about something with Amber in the office."

John nodded and obeyed. Once they reached the office, Gerald sat on the chair. She took off her dress and knelt on the floor before him. She looked up at him, licked her lips, smiled, undid his belt and trousers, and released his penis.

"Carry on, dear, although that wasn't the main reason I asked you here." He moved his trousers to his ankles.

"It wasn't?" She winked at him, arched her back so that he could see both her breasts and her arse, and started to lick and kiss his penis. He moaned and gasped when she tickled his balls with her left hand.

"My contact has been in contact about the lease in London. I'm amazed you signed the guarantee, but he's going to want to collect on it unless he can get the money from Alastair. Why on earth did you sign that guarantee?" He reached down and played with her breasts.

She stopped licking and sucking momentarily and said, "I didn't."

He sighed, "He was more of a scoundrel than I thought. I can understand that you were worried that mentioning it yesterday would have seemed like asking for money. Look, you should have come to me about that problem. I am your friend in this regard."

She hoped that meant that he really understood that rather than thinking she had been just delaying the request for a loan. Anyway, her best bet was to carry on blowing him. She did so, and he sighed with delight.

"There may be practical... ways of dealing with this.... which won't involve you paying money or reporting.... Alastair to the police and ending up in court or...... the national newspapers." This last line was delivered with some gasps as he responded to her ministrations. She also groaned.

"Newspapers?" Well, that was what she tried to say. It was rather hard to enunciate with her mouth full and without having her teeth do unfortunate things, but he got the gist.

"Posh boy... forging his girlfriend's... signature and stealing .... her money. Losing his job.... because he lied about his qualifications. The tabloids will lap.... it up. Goodness only .... knows what your School .... and pupils.... will make of it."

Fuck, she thought to herself. I'll be portrayed as a silly cow or a betrayed woman. Probably both. The school won't like the publicity, and it won't help my career. At best, people will feel sorry for me. She hated people pitying her. Double fuck, people will come out of the woodwork claiming to have known her intimately. Even if they are mostly complimentary, the readers won't understand about being a charity girl and not a prostitute. She had to either pay up or risk having her reputation ruined.

She then really panicked. If Alastair were accused of forging her signature in court, even a civil court, he would take her with him. He would reveal what he knew about her past and what he had been willing to do for him.

"I'm very busy... right now, but if I have time .... I'll give some thought.. to how to deal with this problem."

She needed his help more than he needed her sexual favours. The truth was that Gerald would need to be encouraged to make time for her problems. She took a deep breath and swallowed the whole of his seven-inch penis. His body shook, and his hand gripped the back of her head. For five minutes, she used the expertise she had gained from being on her knees since the first holiday between school and university to bring him to the point of almost coming as he panted and moaned.

Finally, he said, "Christ, you are so good at this. If only I'd known you... when I was your age. I promise..... to think about things as soon as I can. No need to make me come. I'd like you to get back to entertaining John. Perhaps we can pick up later."

She obeyed and took a swig of wine. She also took a Trebor mint out of her handbag. If she hadn't entirely decided how far she was going today with John, she had now. She was glad he had broached the subject of the guarantee and made it about doing favours for each other instead of being paid cash.

"I know I will be the third bird plucked and stuffed today. I want it as well, but...."

Gerald laughed. "John will not boast about what will happen today. If he does, I will deny it. No photographs or tape recordings either."

"Don't let him treat me with contempt."

He looked her in the eyes and said seriously, "I can promise you that. Just treat John kindly."

She laughed, "If he lacks self-confidence, the human race is doomed. Still, I will try to make the next few weeks a good memory for him."

"All I can reasonably ask."

He handed her a packet of Durex. "I believe in being prepared and safe. I was the first member of my family who seemed to be capable of having sex without sprogging."

Okay, that amused her. There was no point in pretending she would not be fucked by both of them this afternoon, but she wanted to ensure that she was prepared if things escalated. One thing was for sure; she would not take it up the arse from Gerald without lots of lubricant. He was at least an inch too big for comfort.

"Thanks. Lubrication in case he is as big as the rest of him?"

"There is lots of olive oil in the kitchen. The Greeks swear by it." He paused, "KY jelly is available as well. Not from the kitchen, you will be glad to hear."

She laughed. OK, he had agreed to help her, but he still needed further motivation. Her guess was that his preference for women who were intellectually compatible with him and were wined and dined individually meant that she had something to offer him that he had not previously tried. If he rated her skills on her knees so highly, she suspected a certain limit in the willingness of his normal companions to be experimental and that he would not push too hard.

She said, "By the way, Gerald, I enjoyed it when you and John were paying attention to me simultaneously. I wouldn't mind being spit-roasted as well as plucked and stuffed if that appeals to you both. It might have the advantage of making sure he falls in lust with me and not in love."

"It'll certainly make this a memorable day. Look, are you certain about this?"

"I've done it before, and it was fun for me. So long as I can trust you both not to hurt me or call me names. After Donald, I am sensitive on the subject."

"Demeaning women does nothing for me. Sign of an insecure man, and I am not one of those. I am certain John understands as well. Let's say he's already indicated that he is open to new experiences. I suggest you ask him to dance with you if he hesitates."

"Will do. I doubt he will."

"Perhaps you could drop off the letter from the agents tomorrow morning and, if they sent it, a copy of the lease. I can't guarantee that this will be a quick process. I'll drop you a line over the week if there is any information I need. Actually, the address for his parents might be helpful."

She smiled, sipped her wine, and sucked the Trebor mint. He was already engaging his brain properly for her. He was willing to help the charity girl if she showed her gratitude more enthusiastically. She said, "Start it slowly and make certain that I am well warmed up before starting the roast. I suggest you both concentrate on one end of me at a time to avoid getting in each other's way."

He said, "I'll make coffee, and after five minutes, excuse myself to make a few phone calls from here. Perhaps you can freshen up for ten minutes before you join us in the sitting room."

/-------------------------------/

John was thoroughly looking forward to getting to know Amber better.

Uncle had been right in saying that she liked men responding to her attractiveness, provided they did not take it for granted. Flirting came as second nature to her, and her laughter encouraged him to continue to banter with her. He was impressed by the dress and the impact of buttons becoming undone on the sexiness of its wearer.

It was clear to him that Uncle must have already had sex with Amber despite what the woman had said to her friend on Friday night about liking the idea. Perhaps it had only been yesterday when he had gone round to invite her to lunch, but the fact that he was willing to allow John to have first go at her and had made so many specific suggestions about what not and what to say and do was suggestive. Still, Uncle may just be extrapolating from past experiences with women like Amber.

He had also enjoyed watching Uncle Gerald in action as a tactician in the art of seduction. The choice of a starter, which was delicious, light, and only required a spoon to eat, had allowed him to investigate Amber's leg and thigh. He had been worried about Uncle's insistence that he test the waters so early, but she had only stopped him when he had got to the top of her stockings. Even then, she had not smacked him or pushed the hand down.