7 comments/ 21715 views/ 2 favorites A Dirty Weekend By: joulie Peggy told us this one evening after a very pleasant afternoon on Weymouth Sea front we had danced along, arm in arm, eight of us, like a bunch of hooligans, with the usual 'kiss me quick' hats, sticks of candy floss and a few games of bingo under our pinnies. Jenny had won twenty quid and we rounded it off with a gorgeous fish supper there on the quay side, by the bridge the conversation followed its usual path. Here are her words. I know, I know, you disapprove of affairs, my only excuse is that my husband had been doing it for years, and I decided that there was nothing to stop me, the kids grown up, the youngest in his last year at school. Heck, young Darren was getting more nookie than me! My fella was Terry, not a big man, well in height, in other places, more than adequate. Its electric, he only needed to touch me and my juices flowed. When we were together it was out of this world. We would find somewhere to park, nice and secluded. It always started as they say with a kiss, simple, then open mouthed, then tongues. Then, and it was always a part of it, he would breathe into my mouth... "Do you want?" Mostly, except on very rare occasions, I would breathe back... "Of course." His hand then dropped to my breast and he fondled my tits, outside of my clothes at first, until he found my nipples coming up. That was a signal to him to open up my blouse or to slip his hand up from the waist, but usually I had chosen a button fastening blouse, expecting my pleasure. He slipped each little button exposing more of my lacy bra clad bosom to the freedom of the air. The chill giving me a slight shiver, or maybe it was expectation doing so. Still he did not touch my flesh, our mouths gasping at each other as he stroked and fondled the brassier encasement. I obviously could not see but certainly could feel my erect nipples tenting the tips of my bra. He ran his finger nails across them with great effect, deepening my gasps and making my breathing yet more ragged. "Please...." I breathed pleading into his mouth we rarely needed to speak aloud. Our kisses so sweet and essential, our tongues rested briefly at the moment of communication. This was Terry's direction to open my bra and allow the cool air to stimulate my erect nipples while they awaited his touch. Tonight, my mind raced, his fingers or would he break our mouth hold to touch his lips to my begging buds. Whichever, the gentle gossamer touch would be the very best. Between my legs the expectations were driving the juices wild as I waited longing for the touch which would trigger the first of the events throbbing, pulsing orgasms. I was desperate for release, a release I knew was just moments away and which would flow through my very being at the greatest intensity. His touch, a finger tip, the merest feather touch, my tongue lashed his mouth in appreciation as the waves of pleasure flowed through me. I was there, I was there, I was there. I knew, and so did he. Oh how sweet that sensation as he brought me to fulfilment. His hand crept from my bosom, oh, how I wished it would stay, to my knee. I parted my thighs, in anticipation, the back seat of the old car was not the biggest bed in the world and we had to maximise our loving. His hand rested on my knee. "You sure?" he breathed "Oh yes." I responded "Please." His hand slowly, he had the lightest touch, stroked up along my stockinged thighs. There was no obstruction to his progress between them as my legs, of their own volition, parted before his gently caressing fingers, admitting this welcome intruder to my most personal place. I creamed at the very first touch on my lips, my hair parted to expose my slippery juicy slit. I creamed again as he teased my clit, involuntarily thrusting my hips up at his fingers as they more urgently fondled my cunny area. My knickers, I wore plain ordinary nylon briefs on this occasion, the legs stretched and tight cutting into my groin as his hand occupied too small a space. I raised up off the seat I was sprawled on... "Get rid of them." I pushed up my skirt and inserted my hand beside my arse cheek. Terry removed his hand from the leg and tugging the gusset from me helped to get them out of the way. The back seat of the car was cramped enough so having contorted on leg free we abandoned the task of removing them leaving them damply around one ankle. Lying back and now with the skirt backup around my puss, I stretched my free leg, only to painfully knock my ankle on the hand brake. The pain was dulled by the fervour of Terry's kisses as he reclaimed both my mouth with his and my nether regions with his hand. I groped for his zipper, knowing full well as I had since we had started, that I would find a satisfying treasure within. I released it from the constraints of his trousers and underpants and stroked full length from base to circumcised head, then over the top with my thumb. Terry always gasped at that point, and I could feel the moist sensitivity of the precum at the orifice. I must not go too far, before I had learnt caution with that touch, I had spoilt the moment and ruined a perfectly good blouse into the bargain as my touch caused an eruption. Thank god he was young and virile, the evening wasn't lost as he didn't wilt and we rejoined the fray, this time with a little more caution. His hand once again probed me, gently exposing and spreading the lubricating juices about my sex. His head dipped to take my nipples one at a time between his lips, his tongue the one I love to suck so much, flicking fleetingly across the tips. I groaned, I moaned, I sighed, as I pulled him by the cock, on top of me, aiming his knob in about the right direction. He knelt on the car floor, easing my buttocks to the edge of the seat and correcting the position of his knob right to the entrance to my hole. He nudged forward and we were engaged, his length full bedded in me. I clamped my self around it, daring him to withdraw, to deprive me of his treasure. I am not going to be stupid and tell you it was enormous, and so long or any of that crap, because it didn't matter. It was for me, it was in me and I was being satisfied. I lifted his face and regained his mouth, kissing him deeply and raping his mouth with my tongue. Almost imperceptivly he started to move, his hips thrusting, sliding his cock up and down in me. I felt his knob parting the sheath of my pussy as it rose up within me, and his pubes pressing on my clit as he did so. I came vigorously "Please, Please, Please," I breathed with every fucking thrust of his hips. Trying to force the rhythm, I sped up my chant, willing him to faster and faster thrusts. "Near." He murmered into my mouth. As I matched him fuck for fuck. "Oh yes" I replied. Redoubling my own up thrusting hip movements. "Now!" His teeth gritted he drove the extra thrust deep into me, muffling the word, and sent me into a shattering, throbbing, clinging, gushing orgasm matching his own. His cum blasting up to mingle with my torrent of juice. It never lasts does it girls? Gradually we come down, don't we? From that ecstatic high, I am not saying, you know, I'm not saying it wasn't very satisfying, not complaining, but you want it to just go on forever and it can't, can it? He was always more than adequate, but it just naturally diminishes. Till, of course, the slackening cock slips from between your pussy lips, in this case leaving a snail trail on first my inner thighs, then the back seat of the car. We scrambled about, half the time my naked bottom flashing at anyone with the misfortune to be in the area at the time, as we gathered my discarded knickers from beneath the seats of the car. Terry was a reasonably considerate lover, our evenings spent in the back of the car usually ended with a juicy often dribbling pussy, well girls we all know don't we, what goes up must come down. The first time we did it, having been delivered to the back lane, Terry was horrified to spot the wet marks on the back of my skirt. Fortunately, he who thought he was it, had his head in the newspaper and didn't notice as I nipped up the stairs and quickly changed. Anyway, after that episode, Terry always had a clean towel for me to sit on as we drove to my home, with my skirt or dress hiked up at the back so as not to get soiled. Then just before delivery I struggled back into my knickers. My situation was somewhat different to Terry's, I was earning, yes, so was he, but he had rent and stuff to find, and my money was all my own, so from time to time things were 'my treat', and that was by my choice. Being here at Weymouth has reminded me, and its going to make you all laugh. About a weekend away that he and I shared. Just how much could go wrong with a dirty weekend, sorry, that sounds mucky, how much could go wrong with a weekend away with a lover... I suppose that sounds just as mucky. Looking back I have to laugh, come on, laugh with me. My friend Wendy started it off, well she would, mucky bitch, showing me a copy of an advert in the local paper. 'Long weekend in Jersey' (Channel Islands), for our American cousins not Joisey (New York), super bargain - fifteen quid. Wendy had a bloke too. Neither of us was sharing that information with our other halfs, they didn't know we were playing them at their own game. "Shall we see if we can talk the blokes into a mucky weekend? We could make it our treat and get our nookie in comfort for a change." What could I say, she had covered for me a few times, I fancied the idea, and we could both afford it, me from my wages and her from the housekeeping money. Terry and I had sessions in his car on evenings when I could get out, just about anywhere, but never anywhere comfortable, mainly, back lanes, or anywhere we could find. I remember tearing a favourite sexy pair of real silk knickers trying to get them off in a stubble field one evening. To be perfectly honest, it was a good job neither Terry nor I was very big, well if you didn't count my tits which were more generous than some, because Terry's car was an aging Hilman Imp the long gear stick I remember was a bloody nuisance. Clambering about in the car I nearly did myself a mischief a couple of times, when that stick nearly ended up where something else should be! Wendy and I broached the possibility with the husbands that we wanted them to take us to Jersey for the weekend, knowing full well that they would not want to, and sure enough, it was a case of... "Why don't you and Wendy go together, I'm sure you would enjoy it much more?" That was all we needed. On the next occasion Terry and I were out I made the suggestion. I suppose I could have handled it better. We were en route to a secret location, nudge nudge, wink wink, me with an itchy fanny and Terry with a stiff dick, bombing along the motorway, well as bombing as that old Hilman could achieve. "Fancy a dirty weekend in Jersey." The car swerved across all three lanes of the motorway. It ran through my mind. "Oh shit, we'll both be killed. – At least I wouldn't have to explain what I was doing there!" Terry got a grip, and regained his composure. "That would be very nice, not having to be watchful the whole time." "A good shag in a bed is my idea of bliss." "It would be very nice." "It would be my treat, the Evening paper is doing a promotion thing and it's affordably cheap enough for me." "What about your old man?" "Wendy and me, we asked mine and hers to take us, being fairly sure they wouldn't want to. Aaand they both said for us to go on our own!" "So he didn't mind?" "Probably thinks he can get a bit of freedom with is bit on the side if I'm away. I have applied for two tickets and so has Wendy." The agreement was reached! Done! So we continued about the evening's nefarious business, my itch got scratched, and I managed to make Terry's stiffie sick. The deal was a coach trip from the city to here, Weymouth, boat across to Jersey, two nights accommodation in a small hotel, a couple of day trips if wanted, and an afternoon of shopping and return home on Sunday evening. Now let's face it, nothing could be simpler...or could it? Wendy and I booked a taxi, to take us to the bus station; the idea was to pick up the two chaps on route. "Wrong!" The old man, bless his cotton socks, decided to drive us to the bus station, to give us just a bit more spending money! Likely story he just wanted to be sure we had gone so he could get into mischief. Wendy made a quick phone call to tell her Brian what was happening. At the Bus station, the two chaps were hiding in the café, watching for us being dropped off and the coast to clear before joining us. A cup of tea, much chatting, and nerves all settling well, we were on our way. "Wrong!" The coach was late, a quarter of an hour. We spoke to the inspector. The coach had started from Cardiff, should be here any time now. The coach was 45 minutes late, there were seven of us standing waiting. We spoke to the inspector again. Not a lot he could do but he would contact Cardiff and see if there was a problem. He disappeared. An hour and a half late. Find the inspector, stand over him while he contacts Cardiff. At Cardiff the travel company rep had gone home at the shift end. Has left a message with the manager. A hour and three quarters, found the message. Rep forgot to tell the coach driver he had to pick up at a second point. Seven annoyed travellers start to give the inspector a hard time. Two hours late his manager joins the commotion. Terry, is a very sensitive person and I can sense all is not well. Two and a quarter hours, the manager has arranged a Limousine to take the seven of us to Weymouth, best he could do and he could expect a row from his boss in the morning, but, all being well we would get to the boat in time. He would phone the port and advise them of the situation, and they would possibly delay the sailing for a few minutes in the circumstance. Amid much muttering the limousine was soon on its way. "Trust me." says the driver, swinging the softly sprung car round sweeping bends as it raced through the evening light. We were on our way, every thing was fine. Wrong! About half way through the journey, timing is everything; Terry tapped the driver on the shoulder. "Can you pull over please, I am getting car sick and I am about to throw up." "Not in my fucking car!" The limousine slid to a halt. Terry was on the roadside verge shouting 'huweee' as the rest of us shouted to him, to hurry. Time, every minute was precious. Terry resumed his place; seating had been rearranged to enable him to travel with his head out of the window. We swept into the harbour as they were standing at the gangway, preparing to take it in, Shouting our thanks to the driver as we slammed the doors and ran for the boat. I am not too sure if Terry had actually stepped off the gangway as they started to whisk it away, the boat now twenty minutes late leaving Weymouth. All was now well; we were on the sea, on our way. Wrong! It was the roughest crossing in living memory, our seat had to be near the toilet, for the obvious reason, poor Terry's travel sickness, the doors banged continually throughout the night, all I could think, would there be any value to my thirty quid investment! The flash of La Corbier light house signalled the approach to Jersey, and slightly calmer seas. Terry perked up, and by the time we docked was feeling very much better. Well, here we were, about twenty now, including those who had enjoyed the coach journey to the boat, happily landed in Jersey, great, now we can start our fantastic weekend. Wrong! The rep, with transport to our hotel, didn't show up. Still, no worries, we knew the name of the hotel, and the very helpful policeman at the harbour gates was happy to direct us. Half past six, and twenty happy folk, starting a weekend, for us, a dirty weekend, and the hotel not ten minutes walk, and a nice hot cup of tea, and breakfast before a quick 'nap', make that a shag, before the first of the day trips. So much to look forward to as we walked excitedly down the deserted streets. Wrong! The hotel was in darkness, the doors locked, not a soul in sight. They must have forgotten our arrival time, much banging on the door, and ringing of the bell did achieve a result after nearly half an hour. A gentleman in carpet slippers and dressing gown, very obviously not happy, spoke to us from the safety of the foyer, knowing that twenty folk, quite cross by now, were not the best thing to stand in front of when you have just got out of your bed. The story even at this stage could have gone either way, but, you know what we Brits are like – tolerant. So this guy was not about to be hung from the rafters. He had an explanation, and to be fair, it was reasonable, just no bloody good to four horny people like us. Now I just know you will like the explanation, so here it is. "It's no blamed good you folk getting me out and about shouting and banging like that. Two weeks ago I contacted your travel company and told them that they shouldn't send any more visitors to my hotel until they had paid the bill for the last three parties they had sent. They haven't paid and I have relet the rooms." Booos, groans. "If you would like to take a seat I will make a phone call and see what can be done." The situation was becoming farcical, but surely it couldn't get worse? Wrong! Shortly after, a gentleman arrived from the tourist board, many apologies, the travel company wasn't paying its bills and hoteliers were closing ranks against them. However, Jersey prides itself on looking after its visitors and wouldn't see us on the streets. It would take a few minutes but he would arrange accommodation it could however mean splitting the party up. As it was not a fully organised thing anyway that wasn't a great problem. The valuable minutes of this much anticipated 'dirty weekend' were ticking frustratingly away unexploited, my itchy pussy, and Terry's rampant stiffy still unsatisfied, I could feel it as we stood hugging close, waiting for the situation to be resolved. We were delivered, humour gradually deserting us to a small hotel in one of the back streets of St. Hellier. We were made welcome by the proprietor and ushered in to the dining room. "Its going to take a little while to sort out rooms for you, we'll get you some breakfast while you are waiting." Now girls, I just know that you will understand, as welcome as the breakfast was, it was not what I was becoming more hungry for. I needed meat, the right sort of meat, and I was hung gree. It was about an hour or so later that the proprietor reappeared... "Right! That's sorted, if you will all follow me, we can allocate the rooms." Gradually, our numbers were whittled down until at the last there was just Wendy and her Brian and me and my Terry. And girls, if you think it was all over, you couldn't be more wrong. "Room twenty two B, you are all friends, I hope in the circumstances you won't mind sharing." I could never be called prudish, heck, we have had some good laughs in our group, and I have been just as horny, and adventurous as the rest of you but...I draw the line at sharing my dirty weekend bedroom with my friend, my best friend, now in tears with disappointment. No, you could say I was a frustrated, annoyed, and still horny woman. "Give me a few minutes." Terry left the room. The few minutes was ten, but who's counting. "Sorted! Come on, grab your bag, Wendy can have this room." Terry took my hand, and lead me away. "What happened?" "The guy, the Frenchman, the manager, I just put it to him that he might find it less than conducive to a weekend with his mistress if he had to share a room with her friend and her lover, he quite understood, this room is a bit smaller but its all we need." A Dirty Weekend So, my seasick, sensitive, quiet, thoughtful lover had resolved the problem. "What about Wendy and Brian?" "Wendy isn't my lover, I have sorted it for us if they are not happy with what they have then Brian needs to sort it, come on." The door did actually close behind us before we were at each other, pawing, groping, kissing, and fondling. I did manage to get one leg out of my knickers before falling back copulating on the bed. Terry's rampant cock hit my pussy dead on, and slipped full length into me with no help or guidance needed. I of course came instantly, creaming generously, and fortunately Terry managed a good five full length thrusts before he to sprayed my insides with his offering. Nothing more could go wrong, pay dirt, I was getting what I wanted. That was that. Except that it wasn't. Now I know I can't be the only one who makes a mistake when in the throws of lust, sorry, I mean we can't be, and we made a right boo boo. Terry had just pulled out, cock still dribbling and rigid, to enable us to gain a more comfortable tenure on the bed, my tits were half in and half out of my bra, my knickers dangling from my ankle when... wait for it, in waltzed Wendy and Brian. There we were all in our glory showing the world our bits, Brian stood with his mouth open, and Wendy covered her mouth with an... "Oh My God...So sorry, didn't think...coach trip about to start." Brian having had a very good look at my wet and wanton pussy excused himself and left the room. Wendy was mortified, I flipped my dress back down to cover my evidence and Terry's dick wilted. "Don't 'spose you'll be coming then? The coach trip I mean. I can see the other way you will be. No, 'spose Not. Gory Castle if you want...No I..spose..." She turned to leave. "Lucky bitch, Brian's too tired" she mouthed at me. "See you at dinner time." "Brian's too tired for a fuck? I don't believe it." Terry was incredulous. The room was small, no, I mean it was really small, now that we had time to look at it. There was room for the double bed, and about six inches either side of it. There was just space to open the door, and a little alcove which housed a vanity unit and wash basin. Let's face it, did we actually need anything else, the wash basin could, if needed, double as a loo if we needed a pee. What we actually needed was more of our favourite activity and in comfort too. Terry turned back the bedding and we stripped so fast our clothes almost caught fire. There was a lot of bounce in that mattress, and we were determined to make good use of it. Stark naked for the very first time, we hugged together, kissing in our usual manner. "You want?" Terry breathed "Too right." I breathed back. My tits were pressed to his chest, his rigid cock lying up through my pubes against my belly. I pushed my hand down between us to grasp him before he had a chance to get his hands on my tits. I was a bit embarrassed that they were not as firm as they could be, but not too bad for their size. Pressed as they were against his chest, my nipples needed no manipulation to erect them. Terry wasted no time in getting his lips to them, and I had the pleasure of a full blown orgasm at the first touch of his tongue, moaning and sighing in my lust. His hand eased between us and he fingered down through my curls, to find my greasy crease. In he went, probing and fingering as my thighs spread before him, it felt so strange to be naked, skin on skin, no clothes between us. I parted my legs, as if it was the only thing to do, and he rolled between them. Automatically my knees came up, and his cock nuzzled my wet, wet, pussy. "Now please." I urged, and Terry obliged. The knob parting my entrance, then making its slow gentle progress up my sacred passage. His full length was in me, I was almost content. Something we could never do in the car was to try to get deeper penetration, you know how it is girls, a little more is always welcome. I raised first one leg and then the other to rest them on his shoulders. Two, or maybe three thrusts, and Terry was nudging my cervix, I was creaming almost continuously. He knelt over me, then took an ankle in each hand pushing my legs apart and towards my head, my bum was right up off the bed, the thrusting was just right and a good steady rhythm. I was going well and could feel the tension mounting in Terry. "Here it comes." He said and with two extra firm thrusts he tensed and blasted into me. Things had gone stupidly and annoyingly wrong with this weekend, but here in the throws of this passionate lunatic fuck the greatest of all our disasters hit us, Looking back I have laughed about it many times, and even when the relationship with Terry petered out, on our last evening together after a good fuck in the car, we recalled it and laughed. I hit the high note at exactly the same moment and we rocked, locked together in our ecstasy, bucking like a couple of broncos. And that was our downfall. Somehow, with our wild thrashing about we fell off the bed. The opposite side to the door. Still locked in our copulation. My legs locked around Terry, and jammed between the bed and the wall. At first we could do nothing for laughing, we were almost in hysterics, shrieking with laughter, gradually that wore off, then lying there we realised we had a problem. Terry could barely move, and I couldn't we were stuck. I had one hand free, Terry was totally trapped. All we could do was to wait and hope that Wendy would come up to the room when they got back from their excursion. Probably at least an hour. We of course started kissing, there was nothing else we could do. Moving was out of the question. "Is my cock still in?" "Its getting a bit soft but yes it is at the moment." "You know that thing you do with the muscles in your pussy, see if you can do that." A little bit of action on my part, and his cock started to firm up again, so I just kept at it, milking away, he got his head down to my tits, and started sucking, we just kept at it, till I got him to spunk up me again, the last stroke, coincided with me coughing, he just said... "Mind you don't bite his head off!" and blasted into me. It was all I needed and I joined him. We had a good sweat on, but getting a cramp when the door was knocked. "Peggy! Peggy! Are you in?" "Wendy, is Brian with you?" "No, he's down in the bar. Do you want him?" I suddenly realised that we hadn't locked the door after Wendy had left earlier. "No, We have a problem, can you come in." "I'll have to get a key from somewhere." "The door's not locked. We forgot...again." The door pushed open. "Where are you?" "Over here." "Where?" "Here." I could just see her over the edge of the bed. "What are you doing there?" "We fell out of bed and we're stuck!" Wendy giggled. "Stop, don't tell me that!" she laughed out loud, " Don't say that, I'll wet myself!" "It's serious, we cant get up." "Terry's got a nice arse." She giggled. "Never mind Terry's Arse, come and give us a hand, we are getting cramp." Girls, I bet none of you have ever been in this position, well you may have been in the position, you know with a cock up your pussy, and the guy between your thighs, but never in this situation, with that position, and jammed down between the bed and the wall and in need of a hand to resolve the situation. Wendy pushed the door, and came round to the end of the bed. She was at our feet, just standing there looking. "He's got hairy balls hasn't he?" "Never mind his arse or his balls, just get us up out of it." "Is he, you know, still stuck up you, or has he slipped out?" To be honest his cock was still in me and fairly stiff, so I just worked my muscles, doing my pelvic floor excersizes. "Oye! I am here you know, stop discussing my balls and whether I'm still up her." Terry snapped. "Don't get pissy, I've got to work out what to grab hold of to pull you out of it. I've got cold hands, if I grab your balls would you jump out by yourself?" she just would not take it seriously. "Don't you fucking dare!" Wendy reached down and put her hand under Terry's Chin. "Not much of a grip really, hang on." She turned and put her handbag on the bed. Regaining her previous position, Wendy again reached over and placed both hands under Terry's chin. Nothing was moving. Then she kicked off her shoes, and placed one foot his arse and pulled again, this time pushing with her foot on his arse, it didn't help the situation, but his cock was then shoved so far up me that my eyes nearly popped out. I don't believe any of you can picture the situation, but to be honest we were in hysterics. Wendy could do little for laughing, I was absolutely useless laughing and Terry was laughing so much his cock, as far up me as it was, shook with his laughter, giving me one hell of an orgasm. I was so embarrassed. "Do you want me to go and get Brian, see if he could help?" "No!" we both chorused. "Try my ankle." "What about it?" "Try pulling me by the ankle." "Which one." "For fuck sake does it matter? I've only got two feet." "Bragging again, Brian's only got six inches!" "Just do it, stop messing about." Wendy bent down again but reached between his legs and jiggled Terry's balls. "For fuck sake woman if you are that desperate for my balls, see me after, but get us up first!" She took his ankle, and pulled, nothing happened. "You need to pull harder, go on, give it a good heave." She picked up both ankles and held them under her armpits, taking him at his word, she threw herself backwards. It was effective. His head, which had been alongside of mine was dragged down my body, bouncing over my tits, Wendy ended up sitting on the floor, and Terry's nose was in my pussy. We still could not get up off the floor, we were so stiff, about the only thing that wasn't was Terry's cock. I was, as was Wendy, near wetting myself, I so desperately needed a pee and I had to compose myself before I could get up. I was dribbling as Terry lifted me towards the hand basin, and Wendy was still wetting herself watching our antics. As I finished and used a tissue... "Now you can give me a hand up to that basin, before I soak my knickers. They are damp enough already" Terry, being a gentleman, did so, then watched as Wendy eased up her skirt and pulled her pants aside. She must have been bursting as she let a torrent go. I mean while started to dress. I was starving and the restaurant was due to close. "Do you want a hand to wipe it?" Terry was most solicitous. "Oh yes? You've had an eyeful, and now you want a feel too? What do you think Peggy?" "Well you did fondle his balls." "Go on then, just a quick wipe mind!" Wendy handed him a tissue. Terry wiped then turned back toward me to show his finger through the tissue. Wendy aimed a swipe at him which he ducked. The hotel restaurant was closed by the time we got to it so we had to go out to find a fish restaurant . but I can tell you, the evening's entertainment was as tiring as any other activity, so having dined, we bid Wendy and Brian goodnight and headed for our room. There was nothing more, really that could go wrong. The bus for the excursion the following day didn't arrive, so after a short walk around the harbour, we went back to our room to enjoy our own company. I got plenty of cock, Terry had all the pussy he could cope with, we didn't see much of Wendy and Brian, which was probably a good thing, Wendy had seem more of us than was good for her, and I didn't really appreciate the way she was eyeing Terry's cock. When we got back to Weymouth, the homeward crossing was not as rough as the outward, I rang my husband and told him an hour late for when we would arrive back. It gave us the opportunity to say a quiet and sociable goodbye to our fellas – well for the time being. The following year we did something similar, for a week that time. Just three of us, Brian decided he couldn't make it. Just as well really, Wendy unexpectedly started her period on the second day, we were in France for a day trip. Neither she nor I could speak the lingo, she was unprepared so a visit to the pharmacy was needed, Terry bless him, blushed to the very roots as he tried to explain the predicament and requirement to the young, equally embarrassed, lady behind the counter, but bless him, he achieved the result and we left the shop with suitable purchases. After a couple more years, terry and I sort of petered out, then I moved away. Wendy divorced, and last I heard, she and Terry had set up home together.