23 comments/ 195791 views/ 22 favorites The Incomer By: Spykke The second war changed many, many lives, many for the worse, a few for the better. For me the war had an effect on my life far bigger than anything else I would experience. Through it I suffered profound grief but also met a family which changed my life for the better. I'm Jimmy Hudson and I was a seventeen year old lad in 1939. My family had a small terraced house in Bethnal Green. There was mum and dad and my two year old twin sisters Val and Shirley. The girls were an unexpected "surprise" for mum and dad – they had given up any hope of any more children after me. Dad had been a railwayman, an honest, hard working guy. I was a typical London kid, hard as nails and always ready for a spot of bother. The big love of my life was boxing. I spent as much of my spare time as possible down the local gym, I loved the feeling of being strong and fit. I was a handy lightweight and had won a few local championships, although my last fight had left me with blurred vision in my right eye and I had decided to take a break until it cleared. I had left school at the earliest opportunity and started work with Harry Fletcher, the local coal man. Lugging the sacks of coal not only earned me a handy wage, it also kept my body in top form. The biggest thing in my life was my family. It was in fact endemic in our part of London that families stuck together and so did neighbours. Although I was a bit of a handful I would never do anything to give my parents a hard time. My best friend, Charlie Marsden, lived two doors from us. Charlie was a few months older than me and a very useful heavyweight boxer. Six foot six tall and built like a brick out-house, Charlie was a real tough guy. One day in March 1940 Dad signed up. As a railwayman he was in a reserved occupation and didn't have to sign up, however he wanted to 'do his bit'. Mum took it badly, especially since it was my 18th birthday later that week. When I got home from work on the day of my birthday Mum and Dad were sat in the kitchen. Mum had been crying. "What's up?" I asked. Mum pointed at an official looking brown envelope on the table – it was my call up papers. "He's only 18," she sobbed to Dad. "He's too young to fight." I presented myself at the local recruitment office fully expecting to enter the army. I could see from the look on the recruiting sergeant's face that I would fill the bill, that was until I had the medical. "Tell me, have you had the problem with focussing your right eye for long?" the doctor asked me. I explained that my last fight had been a tough one and the other guy had caught me with a good shot on my right eye. I noticed a bit of double vision afterwards but took no notice. I explained the score to the doc. "Hmm, I thought so," he muttered. "You have a detached retina in your right eye, young man. I have to turn you down." I was devastated. The idea that I wasn't fit to join the army was unthinkable. "Sorry son, you'll have to take on one of the reserved occupations., the sergeant will explain." "Shame lad, you would have been handy in the infantry. It looks like you're going to be a farmer," the sergeant told me. I looked at him in confusion. "Men who can't be called up have to do work which will help support the country. If you don't have a reserved occupation, and you don't, then you have to work on the land or in the mines. Lucky for you, very few "Bevan Boys" come from London. "What are Bevan boys?" I asked, confused. "Men who are sent down the coal mines instead of serving in the forces, not pleasant work if you're not used to it. Because of your eye sight, the doctor has recommended that you work on the land, farm work most likely." ---------------- A letter in an official looking brown envelope came a week later. I was required to travel to a place called Long Stretton near Cambridge where I would be working with a Mr and Mrs Etheridge. The envelope enclosed a travel warrant and I was instructed to catch a train at nine o' clock from Liverpool Street station the next Wednesday. As always the case, the time passed like lightning and that Wednesday I found myself with my family on the station platform. A policemen stood with a bloke in a suit the end of the platform. Dad told him my name and the bloke wrote something on his clip board. "Third carriage from the front," he told dad, pointing at the train. The platform was packed with children awaiting evacuation and their parents. While younger kids ran around playing noisily the older children, who understood what was happening, looked upset. We walked to the front of the train. Two of the compartments in the third carriage had stickers on them saying "Long Stretton". I opened the door to one compartment and put my case on the rack. The compartment was filling up so I quickly grabbed a seat by the window. I stood by the window not knowing what to say to mum and dad. Dad tried making small talk and mum stood silently, looking too upset to speak. While I didn't want to leave, I wished that the train would leave quickly so that we could end the agonising farewell. Soon the train guard began pacing up the platform shouting for everyone to get on board. I kissed mum and the girls and shook dad's hand. "Take care son and do us proud," he told me with a catch in his throat. "Don't forget to write," mum told me. There were tears in her eyes. I couldn't speak, not trusting myself not to cry. The guard blew his whistle, waved his flag and the train began to move. I waved as my family slowly receded into the crowd of people. I wondered when or if I would see them again. I sat down and looked around the compartment. In all there were eight of us. I was the only adult with the kids seeming to range from 5 or 6 up to maybe 12. One or two looked shell-shocked, three kids were crying and the others were squealing with excitement. I looked out the window and watched the scenery change as we passed through the outskirts of London and into the country. The train didn't stop, rushing through stations such as Tottenham, Waltham Cross and St Albans, none of which I recognised. I had only been outside of London once when we went on a day trip to Southend. All these places were new to me. After quite a time the train began stopping at stations. I looked out the window to see groups of kids getting off the train to be greeted by a policeman and a group of adults. Finally early in the afternoon we reached Long Stretton station. A policemen came up to our carriage and opened the door. "Out you get, and don't forget your bags," he said in a kindly voice. I helped him unload the bags and finally found myself on the platform. My first reaction was how small the station was. It had only a single brick building on the single platform. As far as I could see in all directions were just fields. The policeman began calling out names from a list he had. As their names were called the children were approached by adults from the crowd on the platform. I walked towards the station exit where a man and a woman stood. "Mr Etheridge?" I asked. He nodded. "This way," he said pointing to a horse drawn cart As we walked I noticed as we walked that Mr Etheridge had a painful limp, his face twitching in pain as he took each step. After I had put my suitcase on the cart he turned to me and shook my hand. "Welcome James," he spoke with a strange accent. "I'm Arthur Etheridge" I shook his hand. His grip was firm and his hand calloused from hard work. The man was just a little taller than me with a wiry but strong looking body and a tanned, weather beaten face. He wore plain, slightly worn clothes. "My friends call me Jimmy, sir," I told him. "No need for the 'sir', Jimmy, call me Arthur." He smiled. "This here is my wife Mollie." His wife was a short, plump woman, with long curly brown hair and a red smiling face. She wore a blue, floral dress with a low cut neck which revealed her full cleavage. She stepped over, gave me a kiss full on the lips and hugged me to her plump body. She had a pleasant warm smell of carbolic soap. I found the experience very pleasant. "Welcome Jimmy," she said after releasing me. "Hop on the cart and we'll go home." I wasn't a great judge but I guessed that Arthur was a lot older than Mollie. I guessed that she was in her late 30's and he was a good ten years older. The station lay on the outskirts of the village. Arthur clicked his tongue. "Walk on Jess," he told the horse and the cart nudged into life towards the main street. "We live a mile outside the village on the Cambridge Road," he told me. The village seemed deserted with just one or two people walking and a woman riding a bike. There were no cars. "You'll no doubt find things here a little more quiet than in London," Mollie spoke, seeming to read my mind. "We don't have many cars here, in fact only the doctor has a car." The village had an almost magical atmosphere which was so different to London. There is something special about the English countryside in late summer. Its difficult to say what but it's a combination of the unique rural architecture of the English village, the lush green landscape and the tranquillity. It is something to be experienced – it cannot be easily described. To my surprise I felt uplifted. Although diametrically opposed to London I felt 'at home'. The cart left the village and I was struck by the panorama. East Anglia is a notoriously flat part of England and in the clear light I could see for miles. "On a good day like today, you can see Fred Parkinson's windmill ten miles away," Arthur told me, pointing to the right. Sure enough I could see the windmill clearly on the skyline. "What do they use the windmill for?" I asked. "For grinding corn," Arthur smiled at my naivety. After about a mile we turned off down a track which led to the farm. At the entrance the was a sign with 'Home Farm' painted in white. 'Home farm' comprised of a large brick house which faced onto a yard surrounded by buildings. What struck me most was how neat and tidy the farm was. I had always had this image in my mind that farms were messy places with animals all over the place. "What do you grow?" I asked Arthur. "Mostly its an arable farm. We grow wheat and barley. We also have a small herd of cows for milk and meat. I'll show you around later." We pulled up outside the house and we went in. Above the door was a large stone slab with the date 1810 carved in it. The door led directly into the kitchen. It was huge! I had lived all my life in a small terraced house with a bare minimum of rooms. I knew no better and to me the farm house was palatial in size. Arthur had work to do and left Mollie the task of showing me the house. A passage led from the kitchen to a dining room and sitting room. Mollie led the way up a flight of stairs to the first floor. On the first floor were two bedrooms, the master bedroom and another containing a double bed and a bathroom. In the main bedroom I saw an amazing sight – a huge wooden double bed. Mollie saw my surprise and explained. "My dad he were in the army in the first war. He met and married a French girl and after the war he had worked on her father's farm for a short time. His father gave the couple a double bed as a wedding present and he brought it back with him when he decided to come home. The two of them died in the flu epidemic just after the war." Another set of stairs led up and Mollie again led the way. We were in the roof space. The area had been split into two rooms separated by a wooden partition. One room was for me. It had been furnished very comfortably with a single bed, wardrobe and chest of drawers. Being in the roof, the ceiling sloped on one side. From the window I had an excellent view across the farm and down to a river. "Joan and Mary, my daughters, sleep in the other room," Mollie explained. " "They work in the local cottage hospital. They're eighteen so I suppose they're about your age. Oh, by the way, they are identical twins so you might find it difficult to remember which one is which." My overall impression of the house was that it was decorated and furnished in a pleasant but simple way. The furniture was plain but well made. Everywhere was tidy and welcoming. "You unpack and come down to the kitchen when you're finished. You must be starving." Mollie told me. I realised I was hungry and I wasted no time in stowing my clothes. I put my empty suitcase under the bed and went downstairs. Arthur and Mollie were sat at the table. There was bread, butter and cheese on the table along with a pot of tea. The task of cutting the home made bread always fell to Arthur who deftly sliced the loaf into inch thick chunks with a long knife. The soft bread, salty butter and strong cheese along with Mollie's sweet apple chutney was amazing. I had never tasted food like it. "Come on lad," let me show you around the farm." Arthur said once we had finished eating. For the next hour or so we walked the farm while Arthur pointed out the main features and bombarded me with facts. The farm had been in his family for 200 years and occupied 150 acres. It was roughly rectangular stretching down to the river. Apart from the main crops he had half a dozen pigs and a number of hens. This meant that he produced his own pork, eggs as well as butter from the cows. Mollie had a large vegetable area and some fruit trees making them self sufficient in fruit and vegetables. Just down the river was a large patch of ill-kept land. Arthur explained that it belonged to Harold Mays, his neighbour. Although Harold and his son owned the farm they were the worst kind of farmers, preferring to do as little as possible to cultivate and nurture the land. Peter, the son, was an ignorant bully who regularly got into trouble. It was a tragedy that such a good piece of land belonged to such wasters. Arthur admitted that he would have bought the land had he got the money. There was a large coppice down by the river which provided welcome shade from the sun. We sat down on the bank and watched the river flow by. "So Jimmy, tell me about yourself and your family." I realised that they knew as little about me as I did about them. I gave a potted history of my life and my family. "So you like boxing eh? That needs you to be fit and strong." I agreed and told him that I didn't know how I'll manage without the gym. "Don't worry about that, lad." Arthur replied. "The work here will keep you fit." Arthur pulled his pipe from his pocket, filled it and struck a match. I watched, fascinated, as he puffed clouds of sweet smelling smoke. Neither mum nor dad smoked and I had never wanted to start. "So your dad's signed up, eh? What regiment?" "The infantry," I told him. "Hmm, a dangerous job that. They get all the rough jobs. I just hope this war isn't as bad as the last one." That was a bit of a conversation stopper so we contented ourselves watching a couple of mallard ducks on the river. "Did you get called up?" he asked after a while. I explained about my medical and my eyesight. "Never mind lad, it wasn't your fault," he replied sympathetically. After a while Arthur tapped his pipe against his boot and stood up. "It's nearly tea time, let's head back lad." When we got back to the house I went and got washed. I went back down to the kitchen to see if I could help with tea when the peace was shattered by the sound of running and laughter as two girls ran in. "Is he here then?" one of them called out. "Yes dear," Mollie replied. "Jimmy meet Joan and Mary." "Hello," they spoke almost in unison. "I'm Joan", one said. "And I'm Mary." I was unused to meeting girls and didn't really know what to do. "P...pleased to meet you," I stammered out, blushing. The girls giggled. I had a problem. The girls were the prettiest I had seen. Almost small versions of their mother they had long, curly, brunette hair which cascaded round their faces. They had green eyes which gleamed with wild amusement. Their bodies had a slight plumpness which I found beguiling. Their breasts were full and moved with a fascinating and mysterious fashion. I was in love but the problem was the girls were identical and you can't be in love with two girls. Can you? "Go get changed girls, teas ready," Mollie told them. The girls stampeded upstairs laughing. ------------ The two girls kept up lively chatter through tea, telling their parents about what they got up to at work and all the latest gossip. Rather than feeling left out I was content to eat quietly absorbing all that was said. Arthur left the house after tea to do another couple of hours work and the girls went out to do the milking. That left me at a loose end. Having spent time talking to Arthur it seemed a good idea that I got to know Mollie better. Much to her surprise I offered help her clear up after tea. While she washed the dishes I dried. "So what do you think of my girls then?" she asked. "Er... I think they're really nice," I replied weakly. "They seem to be full of fun." I had already noticed a particular "joie de vivre" that the girls shared. They were almost constantly smiling or laughing. "They've always been like that. Because they are identical twins they're very close. In fact they are the best of friends." Mollie explained. "They have an empathy which no outsider can imagine. They love life and it rubs off on everyone else." "Oh I should also warn you that although there isn't an ounce of malice in either them they love playing practical jokes on people." We slipped into an easy silence as we finished the washing up. Finally Mollie dried her hands, turned and gave me a big hug. "I hope you'll enjoy your time here and try not to worry about your family. We have a simple life here but it's fulfilling and full of love. I hope you can share in that." It was getting dark when Arthur returned to house, got washed and changed. "We have a little ritual," he told me. "Every evening we enjoy spending a couple of hours together in the living room. We sit, read or listen to the radio. It's our time together and helps relax us for bed." Arthur settled down in an armchair and turned on the radio. Mollie and I sat on the couch. She began knitting and I contented myself with listening to the radio. A little while later the girls came in, sat down and began to read. At around nine-thirty Joan, or was it Mary – I couldn't tell which, went into the kitchen and made cocoa. It had been a long day so I was content to head up to bed at ten o clock. Joan and Mary ran up ahead of me. "'night Jimmy," they called out and went into their room. I undressed in the dark and was soon asleep. ------------- I spent the next two days getting to know the farm and helping with a few small jobs. "We'll start you on some real work next week," Arthur told me with a grin." Over the next two days I began to get to know my hosts. Even in such a short time I came to two conclusions. First, while I missed my family, I didn't miss London as much as I expected. There was a profound tranquillity about the village which struck a chord in my soul. I rapidly began to love the place. Second, there was a remarkable integrity about Arthur and Mollie. Every conversation was not only polite, but they behaved as though they valued my contribution, wishing to know as much about my life in London as I wanted to know about theirs. They seemed to be at peace with their lives with no sign of stress or angst. Mollie had a tactile, affectionate nature, often giving me a warm, and very pleasant hug. Very quickly I grew to love these people. ------------ Arthur's main concession to pleasure was a trip to the King's head pub on a Friday evening after tea. The Incomer "Come on lad," he told me as I got up to help Mollie after tea. "Its time you met some of the villagers." Although the village was small, there were a total of six pubs. "None of them are any good except the Kings," Arthur told me as we walked down the lane. "Peter Handley, the landlord, is a good friend of mine." The King's Head was a large gabled building on the cross-roads in the centre of the village. There were around 20 men sat in the main bar drinking and puffing on their pipes. "This here be Jimmy Hudson," Arthur told Peter Handley as he pulled our pints. Peter was jocular, ruddy faced man who, from the size of his beer belly, clearly enjoyed life to the full. "Welcome lad," he grinning, gripping my hand firmly. Most of the other patrons came up to me with a friendly greeting, except for one. "We don't need bloody incomers here taking our work," came a sneering voice from the corner of the room. "I hate bloody cowards who won't fight for their country." "You be quiet Harold Mays," Peter shouted from the bar. "I'll not have nastiness said to my guests." Mays was a scruffy, sour faced man, dressed in a frayed tweed suit. I turned to face him but was stopped by Arthur's hand on my arm. "Leave him lad, he's an ignorant swine who gets worse when he's in drink, take no heed of him." We stayed in the pub for an hour, chatting and enjoying a couple of pints. Apart from Mays, the other customers proved to be decent folk who accepted me readily as a member of their society. "About time," Mollie scolded us as we came through the door. "I was about to send out a search party." The beer had made us both hungry and we enjoyed bread and cheese with our pre-bedtime cocoa. I was in a mellow frame of mind as I climbed the stairs to my bed. Once in my room I could hear the girls giggling. As I closed the curtains I heard a sound rather like a piece of wood falling to the floor. I turned around. The partition wall was made from tongue and groove planks. One had a hole in it and on the floor was a plug of wood. The girls had pushed a loose knot hole out making a peep hole between the two rooms. I heard the girls giggling followed by frantic shushing. "Quiet, he'll hear you," one girl whispered. I'd never had a problem of shyness with my body. My training had given me a hard, muscular, body and my pecker was well above average in size. The beer had relaxed my inhibitions and I figured that if the girls wanted to watch me undress I might as well give them a show. Acting casually I slowly removed my clothes, trying to tease the girls as much as possible. When I was down to just my underpants I turned my back to them and bent down as I pulled my pants down, giving the girls a close-up view of my crack. I stood, fully nude and turned to face them. Throughout I heard little gasps, but no more giggling. Pretending to scratch an itch I ran my hand over my balls and up my cock. With the friction and the knowledge that I was being watched my cock became nicely stiff. I gave the girls a good long look at my boner before putting on my pyjamas. I hopped into bed and turned off the light. I waited a few seconds in the dark and quietly slipped out of bed. I crept over to the peep hole and looked through. The girls were stood in the middle of their room whispering to each other. I shifted my position slightly, making a floor board creak. The girls heard the noise, stopped talking and looked towards the peephole. They grinned, realising I was there. They exchanged a quick whispered words and turned their backs to me. Slowly they pulled their dresses up, exposing inch by inch of pale, smooth legs. You should perhaps understand that my experience with girls up to that time was practically zero. My boxing had occupied all my spare time leaving no time for girlfriends. I had never seen a girl naked. My heart was pounding with excitement and anticipation as I saw more of the girls' legs. The gorgeous dimpled area behind their knees, their plump thighs. I thought I would die with pleasure as their round rears, covered by plain white knickers, came into view. Up and up their skirts went exposing their backs and bra straps before, with a flick, the girls threw their skirts onto the floor. Slowly they turned around. Their bodies were divine – slightly plump with gently rounded bellies and full tits. I could just make out dark shadows of hair behind their knickers. Reaching behind they unfastened their bras, dropping them to the ground. Their tits had only the slightest of droop and were a sight to behold. Smooth, ground globes capped with large, pink nipples. They ran their hands under their tits, cupping them as if to offer them to me before teasing and tweaking their nipples to stiffness. I had resumed stoking my cock, bringing it to huge erectness. The girls faces had become flushed although I couldn't tell whether it was from excitement or embarrassment. I suspected it was the latter. They looked at each other as if seeking reassurance and biting their lips with uncertainty they pulled down their knickers. They stood fully nude for a few seconds, their arms stretched above their heads. In that moment I knew what I liked in a woman. Both girls had heavy growths of pubic hair and full bushes in their arm pits. I noticed that one of them had a mole on her belly, just above her pubic bush. So the girls weren't identical after all!! Slowly they pirouetted once and then pulled on their pyjamas. Blowing me a kiss they jumped into bed and turned off the light. ------------- I was awoken on the Saturday morning by my bedroom door being opened and the girls shouting out. "Come on stop being lazy and get up. There are things to do." Muttering darkly I got out of bed and opened the curtains. It was light outside – but only just. The sky was clear indicating that we were in for a pleasant day. I washed and dressed. I could smell the delicious smell of frying bacon as I went downstairs and entered the kitchen. The family were sat around the table. I noticed from the clock that it was only 6-15. "What sort of time do you call this?" I asked jokingly. "It's still night time." "You'll need to get used to getting up early in the countryside," Mollie laughed as she placed a plate of egg and bacon in front of me. "Joan and Mary have jobs to do at the weekend, would you mind helping them?" Arthur asked. Given a chance to spend time with two gorgeous girls I was hardly likely to refuse! "The first job is milking," one of the girls told me as we walked across the yard." I had a problem which needed sorting out. "Listen, you need to help me out here. I know that one of you is Joan and one is Mary but I don't know which is which. I know one of you has a mole in an interesting place but I don't think I can use that to identify you." One girl blushed and they burst out laughing. They held out their right hands. Each wore a ring on their third finger, one had a green stone and the other blue. "Our aunt gave us the rings on our fifteenth birthday. Joan has the green one, mine is blue," Mary explained. We always wear then so you can use them as a guide until you get to know us better. We had reached the milk shed. A group of cows stood there waiting. Joan sat on a stool and began milking one. After a while she stopped. "Want to try?" I sat down and fumbled at the cow's teats, not really knowing how to grab hold. "Jimmy! Grab hold of them firmly. This can't the first time you've touched a pair of teats, what about your girl friend's titties, I bet you know how to hold them!" Joan exclaimed I felt my face flush with embarrassment. Mary saw it in an instant. "Haven't you touched a girl's titties?" she laughed. "Afraid not," is all I could reply. "Maybe we'll have to do something about that," she whispered to her sister, just loud enough for me to hear. She leant over my shoulder and moved my hands onto the cow's teats. Finally I managed to extract some milk although the cow didn't seem too impressed with my touch. Eventually we finished and we carried the buckets of milk up to the house. "Next," Joan announced, "dad wants us to move some bales of hay." We walked down the farm until we reached a large field. "We need a pitchfork from the shed," Joan told me, pointing at a shed the other side of the field. "Can you get it?" "It'll be quicker if you cut across the field," Mary offered. There was a single cow in the field. "What about the cow, won't it object to me crossing the field?" I asked. "No! She's a friendly old thing," the girls laughed. I climbed over the fence and headed across. All seemed fine until I noticed the cow looking at me strangely. It turned and pawed at the ground. Suddenly I realised it was a bull, not a cow. I began to turn back as it charged at me. I could hear it pounding behind me as I sprinted. Cleared the fence with a single leap, I hit the ground with a painful thud. Slowly I got to my feet, rubbing the dirt from my face. The bull was standing ten yards from the fence, making angry noises. The girls looked at me innocently as though butter wouldn't melt in their mouths. "Strange, she's normally very friendly," Mary quipped, struggling to keep a straight face. My instinctive reaction was to shout at them but they were so cute that I couldn't so it. "Your mother warned me about you," I muttered with mock severity. I had to see the funny side of things, there was a lot about the country I still needed to learn. I shrugged my shoulders in resignation. "OK, lead me to the hay bales." -------------------- The barn was a large wooden building with an open front. There was a neat stack of bales against one wall and roughly twenty dumped in front. The two girls grabbed hold of a bale together and struggled to lift it. After a moment they dropped it, it was my time to grin. I walked over. "Let me try," I said. The girls smirked at each other implying that it was a task too difficult for one. "Yeah, right, Mr Toughguy is going to do it on his own!" The bale was lashed with two lengths of heavy twine. I gripped them and lifted testing the balance of the bale. The width was just right for my arm spread and I lifted it easily and put it on the stack. Girls clapped their hands in mock applause. "Oh there is something you can do," one of them taunted. I pulled off my shirt and began work. As I cleared the bales, Arthur pulled a wagon up with another load. He stood by the girls watching me work. To be frank, I thoroughly enjoyed the work. My body was getting a good workout and I could feel my muscles swell and tighten. In a short time I shifted all the bales. "You work well," Arthur acknowledged. "We'll make a farmer of you yet." Arthur left leading the horse and cart, leaving me with the girls. "Your body looks good," Mary was looking at me strangely. "Yes, sort of fit and hard," her sister chipped in. I picked up my shirt and walked over. I explained that my training for my sport did it. "You're a boxer?" Joan was surprised. "Does that mean you're always picking fights?" I grinned and sat down beside them. "No, I don't need to fight outside the ring." I explained. "Most of the kids who pick fights think they have something to prove. I don't. I know what I can do, I don't need to prove myself to anyone outside the ring." The girls looked impressed. We walked back to the house. I needed to wash the sweat off and it was time for dinner. "So what are you going to do this afternoon?" Arthur asked as we ate. "We thought we might spend some time by the river," Joan replied. "How about you?" Arthur asked me. I had enjoyed the morning's work and I felt a hankering for some serious exercise. I had brought some of my gear with me and a run seemed a good idea. It would also give me a chance to get to know the area. "I think I'll have a run," I replied. "We'll pace you on our bikes," Mary chipped in. "We can make sure you run hard." It sounded ideal, I could have my run and keep company with these two tasty girls. I allowed my lunch to settle and got changed. Soon I was pounding down a country lane followed by the girls of their bikes. The sun was shining, the air warm. Everything was perfect. I felt strong and I felt I could run forever. After about five miles Mary called out to me. "Hey, wonderboy, can we take a break, we're getting tired." We were near a large dyke so I slowed down. We could sit on the bank. The girls leaned their bikes against the hedge and we sat down. They had put some bottles of pop in their saddle bags so we had a drink and relaxed. "You don't half run fast," Mary said. "I don't know about that, but I really enjoy it." I replied. "I love the feeling of my body working hard, it's almost as good as..." "Sex?" Joan asked. I blushed. "Er no, I was going to say boxing." "Have you had sex?" Mary asked. I looked at her. She was sat cross-legged higher up the bank. Her skirt was lifted up and I could see her panties stretched tightly over her crotch. What's more, she knew what I could see. I saw no point in lying. "No, not yet, what about you?" Joan and Mary exchanged glances. "Now that would be telling," they teased. "I'll take that as a no then?" My eyes flicked down to Mary's crotch. I could see little tufts of dark hair peeping out of the legs of her panties. "Enjoying the view?" Mary asked with a grin. "Yeah although the view last night was better." There was a tension in the air and I wondered where things were going. And then I knew, the girls burst into laughter. "You didn't look to bad either," Joan giggled. "Mind you, we haven't seen any other boy nude to compare," Mary added, also giggling. So the girls had answered my question. They were virgins too. "Mind you, Mary, you're not being reticent about giving me a good view of your charms!" Mary giggled. "Alright, cards on the table." "As you know, we're identical twins. That means that we came from the same egg, we have the same flesh," Mary continued. "We have a close psychic link, we think the same thoughts, we instinctively know what each other wants to do. While we have such a close relationship, we've always wanted someone else, like a brother, with whom we could have a sensible conversation." "The boys in the village are OK, but we can never have a good conversation with them. They only think about sex," Joan continued. "Together we think we're a pretty good judge of character and we've both taken to you." "What we're trying to say is that although we've only known you a few days, we already like you a lot. You're good fun to be with. You're the brother we always wanted." Good fun? Brother? I had hoped for something a lot more intimate but maybe time would change that. OK, if they wanted to make a confession I decided that perhaps I had better say something. "I don't have much experience with girls," I began. "So you're a bit of a mystery to me. But I have to say I enjoy your company too..." "That's not all you enjoy," Mary interrupted, noticing that I was still stealing peeps up her skirt." I grinned. "Please never think that I'm simple," I added. "I'm just inexperienced." "Joking aside, it's a mark of how much we like you that we're behaving the way we are," Mary continued. "There is no way you would have seen us naked unless we knew you were someone special who we could trust implicitly. We want you to be our soul mate." The girls extended their hands to me and grasped them in mine. Incredibly a bond of sorts had already formed between us. We all realised that things would never quite be the same again. Looking back I find it incredible that the three of us could establish such a deep and lasting rapport after only a few days. Mary told me years later that they two of them had fallen for me the moment they met me. Although they were soul mates, they had always wanted a brother. Their mother had been pregnant a couple of years before the girls were conceived. She had miscarried what would have been their older brother. We sat by the dyke for a while longer, enjoying the warm tranquillity and exchanging small-talk. "Why does Arthur walk with a limp?" I asked, voicing a question I had had since we had first met. "About five years ago dad was helping the blacksmith shoe Jess. The smith accidentally put a nail into her foot and she kicked out, hitting dad in his private places. He had a fractured pelvis and he nearly died." Mary explained. "He's in constant pain and he sleeps in the spare bedroom so that he doesn't disturb mum at night." Joan continued. "He didn't blame Jess, though, he says it was his own fault for standing behind her rear leg." It suddenly dawned on me how difficult it had to be for Arthur to run the farm with his disability. "So have you two got boyfriends?" I asked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Well James and Michael Foster go out with us sometimes," Mary replied. Joan giggled in a knowing way. My heart sank, they already had boyfriends. "But then again, we've known them all our lives, so I don't know if they count as boyfriends." Mary added. "Well that James keeps trying to get into your knickers," Joan giggled again. Mary gave a snort of disgust. "I'm not giving it away that easily. Anyway, he's sex mad. I had bruises on my tits for a week after the Christmas dance – he couldn't keep his hands off them." Hearing a girl talked about her tits in that way came as quite a shock. "If you're going to spend time with us you had better get used to the way we speak together," Mary grinned, noticing my slight discomfort. The afternoon was drawing on so I reminded the girls that we needed to get back. Unbelievably the run back was even more enjoyable. I felt so light that my feet hardly touched the road. -------------- Sunday is as much a day of work for the farmer as any other day. "I need to dig over part of the vegetable garden today," Arthur explained over breakfast. "Could you help?" I welcomed the chance to work. Not only did I want to build up my body, but I also felt a need to contribute. Already I had a strong liking for the family and I wanted to repay their hospitality in any way I could. The task was quite simple. The land was to be used to sow late potatoes and needed turning over. A simple case of digging the soil – except the area was a square 100 yards by 100 yards!! I set about the work with enthusiasm and soon began to feel the deep pleasure of my biceps harden as they worked. There is a certain purity in a task of basic labour. I felt this intuitively but later, when much older and I had read and learned more, I realised that this was not an uncommon concept. The impressionist painter, Millet, had, for example, depicted the dignity of the common task in his painting, "The potato pickers". Arthur came over to the patch during the morning carrying a spade. I could see from his face that he was in some pain. "Are you OK?" I asked him. "Aye lad," he replied with a smile, "it isn't much." His mouth might have been smiling but his eyes weren't. "Arthur, why don't you take a break, I can do this." I saw dismay in his eyes. He didn't want to be seen as being unable to do his work. I needed to explain. "Arthur, I know about your accident." He nodded, understanding. "You've done me a great favour letting me stay here. I want to repay you by helping any way I can. It would mean a lot to me if you'll let me do that." Arthur's expression relaxed. He gave a genuine smile and nodded. I had given him a way of letting me do the work while maintaining his dignity. "I'll just stay here and keep you company then," he conceded. The Incomer He sat down against an apple tree and lit his pipe. "I suppose it was my girls who told you about my little accident with Jess." I grinned, no reply was necessary. "You seem to have got to know the girls already. So what do you think about our little village?" I put down my spade and sat down beside him. "Its as much home as London." I told him. "I feel as though I fit in perfectly." Arthur just nodded, giving a look of complete comprehension. "I thought you would." We chatted a little longer and I got back to work. ------------ The girls worked in the offices at the hospital as secretarial clerks from 9 until 5. Arthur was fairly casual about the hours I worked – "as long is the work gets done, I don't mind when you do it" – and I thought it would be fun to meet the girls after work on the Monday. "Oh, yummy," Mary squealed as they saw me waiting, "we have an escort home." They were accompanied by Susan, another clerk. Susan giggled when she saw me and whispered none to loudly to Joan. "Who's the hunky guy?" "Hands off, he's spoken for," came the reply. As we walked down the street I saw three blokes approaching us. One was a big, fat bloke who had a smirk on his face. He walked up to Susan. "Hello Suzie, how about a kiss?" "That's Peter Mays," Mary whispered. "Leave me alone!," Susan, shouted at him. "I've told you before, I don't want anything to do with you!" "Oh come on, I know you want to be friendly." "No I don't," Susan began to cry. While it wasn't my business, I didn't like blokes who pushed girls around. "Leave it out mate, she isn't interested." I told him. "And who are you?" Peter turned on me. "You speak bloody funny. You're one of them refugees from the big city eh? Keep you bloody nose out things or I'll sort you out." I wasn't in the mood for a fight but I wasn't going to back down. "Look mate, there's no need for bother, just leave her alone and that'll be that." "I ain't taking that from no city cunt," Peter snarled. "Me and my mates are going to teach you a lesson." Up to then the other two kids hadn't said anything. They were typical hangers on, cowards who hid behind Peter. "Like I said, There's no need for bother but if you want it, fine, but surely you don't need your mates to sort out a city kid, do you?" Peter gave a grin of triumph, he saw me as another victim for him to bully. His mates grinned too. "OK sucker, show me what you can do," he snarled. Without giving me time to react he ran at me. I tried to duck and his fist grazed my cheek. Instinctively I punched him hard in the belly. I think for the first time Peter knew what it was like to be on the receiving side. He looked at me in shock as he gasped to gather his breath. If I had been in the ring I would have gone after him but I wanted to give him a chance – it was obvious that he had no real fighting skills. "You cunt!! I'll have you," he snarled and moved to swing a haymaker at me. I had no problem in ducking below the telegraphed punch and I countered with a right cross to his face. His nose flattened and blood flooded down his face. I hoped that that would have knocked the fight out of but Peter was no coward. He shook his face and threw another punch. I had had enough and decided to end matters quickly. I blocked his punch easily and sent in a combination to his belly. As Peter bent forward to ease the pain I smacked him hard on the jaw. He slumped to the ground, finished. I quickly looked up at his mates, expecting them to have a go. I needn't have bothered, they were walking off. The girls and I headed off, leaving Peter to look after himself. Joan and Mary looked at me in awe. "Gosh," Mary gasped, "that was scary!" Susan looked equally impressed and gasped her thanks. "Think nothing of it," I told her. We dropped Susan off at her house and walked home. "Listen, girls, this isn't the sort of start I wanted," I told them. The last thing I needed was a reputation as a hard guy. "Please don't tell your parents." "OK, but they'll find out anyway, news spreads fast in a village this size," Mary told me. "You really sorted him, though," Joan smiled. Any hope of keeping things secret were dashed later that evening when there came a knock on the door. It was the local police constable. He spoke with Arthur for a few minutes before Arthur called me to speak to him. The constable looked at me in amusement. "So you're the tough guy who beat up Peter Mays?" I nodded. "Well his dad isn't very happy. He wants me to arrest you for assault." I explained what happened and the girls confirmed my story. "Officially, take this as a warning." The policeman told me sternly. "I won't have violence in my village. Do it again and I'll have to take action." I nodded in solemn acquiescence. The policeman then smiled. "Unofficially, that Peter needed a lesson." As things turned out, I had no problem in doing what the policeman wanted – Peter Mays gave neither me nor the girls any more bother. ------------ It was one Friday in May, as we sat eating, that there was a knock at the door. "Telegram for Mr Hudson," the postman announced. I took the orange-brown envelope nervously, telegrams usually meant only one thing – bad news. The news was mixed. Dad had been wounded in his arm and had returned to England. He was coming the next day with mum and my sisters to see me. Mollie was as excited as anyone. "They'll have to stay the weekend," she announced and with she set about with a vengeance making arrangements. She moved into Arthur's room leaving the master bedroom available for mum and dad. My sisters would sleep with Mary and Joan. I was frantic with excitement, counting the seconds until the morning. There was only one train in the morning and Arthur took the cart to collect them. I paced around impatiently until the cart turned into the yard. Our reunion was filled with mixed feelings. I was delighted to see Val and Shirley but sad to see dad with his arm in a sling. Joan and Mary were immediately captivated by my sisters and took them off to see the animals. The rest of us sat down in the kitchen for tea. Dad's injury had been nasty – the bullet severing a major nerve in his left arm. While nerves do regenerate, the process was very slow. The wound ruled out any further military service - to all intents and purposes, his arm would be useless for years. The railway company had given him a job as a signalman, meaning that at least he had employment. I was grateful that he would no longer be in active service but mourned his disability. My parents hit it off immediately with Arthur and Mollie. It seemed amazing that two couples with such different backgrounds could take to each other. After a time I left them to chat and went to find the girls. I found them feeding the chickens. Val and Shirley were fascinated by the birds, squealing and laughing with glee. "How can an ugly brute like you have such lovely sisters?" Mary asked. My jaw must have dropped with surprise because she burst into laughter. "Joke!!" she grinned. "Seriously Jimmy," Joan added, "they're lovely kids." The weekend went well and very, very quickly. Soon it was time for them to catch the train. "Can't you all move here?" I asked dad. "No, we have our lives back home," he told me. Dad pulled an envelope from his pocket. "This is the deed to our house." He explained. I didn't really understand. "I own our house and this is the ownership document. If anything should happen to us then the house is yours. Also, look under the floorboards under our bed." No amount of arguing would change his mind leaving me to wave from the platform as their train steamed off on the Sunday afternoon. ---------- Life settled down to routine again. I threw myself into the thousand and one jobs which the farm brought every day. Arthur and I became regular visitors to the pub and I struck up strong friendships with a number of the regulars. "You know we in the country tend to be suspicious of folks from London," Peter Handley told me one day. "We tend to think of them as being posh with lots of money and too stuck up to have any doings with country folks. You're a good lad Jimmy and we all respect what you're doing for Arthur and Mollie. Are you sure you haven't got country blood flowing in you?" It meant a lot to me that I could gain the trust and respect of these folk. The vicar had heard about my boxing and asked me to help out at the youth club giving the lads some pointers on keeping fit. This occupied a couple of hours of my time after school on a Wednesday. One Wednesday I walked into the kitchen after my stint at the youth club. Arthur and Mollie were stony faced and the girls were sobbing. "Sit down, lad," Arthur told me. I sat, wondering what the hell was going on. "We've had some news." Arthur continued. "A telegram came, I hope you don't mind but we opened it. There isn't an easy way of saying this. Your family have all been killed by a bomb." My heart jolted with shock and I felt the heat of adrenaline flood through my body. The room greyed and Arthur's voice receded. "They were on the way to air raid shelter. It was instantaneous, they felt nothing." I only vaguely heard this as the room went black and I heard nothing more. Later... I awoke disorientated. Where was I? It was night but some light filtered in through the partly open door. I realised with some surprise that I was lying in Mollie's big French bed. But why? I could hear voices outside the room. "There's no simple way of dealing with it... Losing you whole family is a serious trauma and it will take time..." Suddenly I remembered and my soul was swamped with despair. My family were gone. All that I valued had been snatched from me. My emotions burst forth and I gave a loud sob. The door opened and Mollie and a man came in. She grabbed hold of me and gave me a hug. "Here, drink this," the man spoke, offering me a glass of liquid. I drank the bitter fluid. Within a few minutes the room began to fade and there was darkness again. --------------- The sky was red and stormy. I looked around and saw that I was in a flat landscape rather like the fenlands. Thick, long reeds lashed in the wind at my legs. The world was desolate and I felt a sense of profound menace. I had to get out. Frantically I tried to run but the reeds tangled in my legs making me fall time after time. I shouted for help but the wind drowned my voice. I staggered on, panting with terror but the harder I struggled, the more I was slowed down. Suddenly the ground gave away. I was sinking into soft earth. I struggled to escape but only sank further. Soon the mud reached my neck. I desperately tried to grab a clump of reeds but my it slipped through my muddy hands. Couldn't someone help me? Stop me from sinking? I gave one final scream and the mud closed over my head. I struggled but I knew that there was no-one to help me. I was going to die alone. So alone with no one to support me. Suddenly I was awake. "Hush now, it's alright," I heard Mollie's soft voice. I was soaked in sweat and my heart pounded fit to burst. Mollie was hugging me and kissing my cheek. "Its alright now, just a bad dream." she told me. Slowly I took stock. I realised with a shock that Mollie was in bed with me. She was wearing a nightdress and she was holding my face against her partly naked breast. Slowly I calmed down. "That's better my love, do you want a drink?" she asked. My throat was dry so I nodded gratefully. Mollie slipped out of bed and left the room only to return with a glass of water. She was wearing a long night dress which buttoned up the front. The top three or four buttons were unfastened revealing a large area of her ample breasts. I took a drink. "Why am I in here?" I asked. "We were worried how you would be in a room on your own. I thought I could keep an eye on you in here." Mollie explained. She took my now empty glass from me. "Time for sleep," she told me. She hitched her nightdress up exposing her naked thighs as she sat on the bed. She switched off the light and settled down. I immediately noticed two things. First Mollie had a faint smell. Sort of musky but nice and comforting. Second I suddenly felt safe and no longer alone. The pain of my loss still lurked in the back of my mind but I pushed it out of the way, not wanting to succumb to misery. The residues of the laudanum given by the doctor were still in me and I quickly fell asleep. It was still dark when I suddenly awoke. It took me a moment to realise where I was. Mollie was lying on her side with her back to me. I was lying pressed against her back with my arm around her waist. My crotch was pressed against her naked rear with my stiff cock nestling in the crack of her arse. To my horror I realised that I was dry humping her. And more incredibly Mollie was pushing back against me. I reached down and eased my cock between her thighs so that it rubbed across her crotch. Mollie gave a sigh and continued to move against me. Her crotch was sopping wet from her juices and my cock slid to and fro making quiet squelching sounds. At one point Mollie pulled away, took hold of my cock and pressed it against her body before pushing back. My cock pushed hard against her body until it suddenly slid into a tight warm place. Mollie ground her rear firmly against me until I felt as though I was buried entirely inside her. "I'm fucking her!" I suddenly realised. "Oh yesssss..." Mollie sighed letting me know that she was awake and enjoying things. Emboldened I slid my hand over her warm rear and down to my cock. Yes I was fucking her, but instead of her cunt, I was buried to the hilt in her arse. It was glorious!! "Stay still, let me do the work," Mollie told me. Gently she began milking my cock with her arse. Not just pushing in and out but also rotating her arse. Mollie began to gasp and pant, matching my own excitement. My cock grew even stiffer, I had never known it to be so large. Mollie made absolutely sure that every last bit of it was buried inside. I reached around and slid my hand into the top of her nightdress. Her breasts were huge, warm and marvellously soft. I never realised that human flesh could feel so sweet. Mollie pressed my hand hard against her chest her gasps rising to a crescendo. As she came I felt her arse twitch and pulse, triggering my own orgasm. "Oh yes, fill me up," she gasped as I came. I did my best to oblige. We didn't speak as we lay in our sexual afterglow. After a while I slipped off to sleep, still buried deep inside her. ------------ The crowing cock and the sun through the window heralded to new day. I awoke, my head on Mollie's shoulder, my cheek pressed against her naked breast. Her nipple was large, dark and erect in the cool air. I moved and kissed it gently. "Good morning, my dear," Mollie whispered. I was at a loss for words. What do you say after screwing a woman's arse? I felt guilty, very guilty. I had taken advantage of her. "Did you enjoy last night, I did," Mollie spoke, saving me the problem. Words couldn't express my feelings. I smiled, yes. "Your first time eh?" I nodded. "Yes, but it was wrong. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done it," I told her, my guilt overwhelming me. "Hush now, you needed it... I needed it. It was mutual solace and comfort." "What about Arthur?" I asked, worried what he might think. "I love Arthur dearly. He is my first and will be my last love. He took my virginity and gave me my children. No other man will enter me where he has. As you know, his accident means that he can no longer be my lover. It is a long time since I have made love to him and I miss it deeply but no-one will take his place. That is why I let you into my rear. Last night was a release for me and I did not betray Arthur. You were the first to go in there and I don't regret it for one moment." I gave Mollie a big hug and a kiss. "Thankyou." I replied. "But not a word to the girls," she added seriously. I nodded. "While we're on the subject of the girls, I know them better than anyone and you should know that they are very attached to you." I looked at her with some surprise. "Oh come on, you must have guessed." Mollie grinned. "My girls understand sex and have strong views on it. They would never give themselves to someone unless they have strong feelings about that person. I trust them to make that choice. One day soon I think they will make you an offer you can't refuse." "But there's two of them..." I exclaimed. "Yes, aren't you lucky." Mollie smiled enigmatically. "But you make sure of one thing. Never ever dare to hurt my girls. If you do you'll have me to answer to." Now that was a scary prospect. ------------- My grief lurked in the back of my mind like an ache but I was determined to try and keep on an even keel. I washed and dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen. All the family were at the table. Joan and Mary looked tired and red-eyed. Arthur and Mollie looked at me as if asking an unspoken question. I felt I needed to say a few works. "Er... I want to tell you all something," I began. "I want to say thank you to all you for the love and support you're giving me. I guess things are going to get worse before they get better and I want you to know how much I appreciate your help." I gave Joan, Mary and Mollie a hug and kiss and I shook Arthur's hand. "Do you have any heavy work for me to do today," I asked Arthur. I needed something to help purge my soul. He had just the thing – a large area of heavily overgrown pasture near the river needed clearing. A day with a scythe would be just the thing. The girls went off to work and I set to my toil. The good thing about manual labour is that you can think while you work. Gently I ran my memories through my mind – the good times with mum and dad, playing with the girls. To my surprise I felt a warm happiness – my family had been a strong unit and my memories were special. Arthur appeared at mid-day with a flask of cold tea and sandwiches. We sat against a tree and ate. "How're you bearing up, lad?" he asked in his rough, kindly voice. "Better than I hoped," I replied. "I've been thinking of all the things we did. Somehow they comfort me." Arthur nodded with understanding. "Mollie told me about last night." I heart jumped with shock and I felt the hot flush of adrenaline. "Don't worry lad, its fine with me." I looked at Arthur in surprise. "My accident was hard on Mollie. A woman needs comfort from her husband and I can't give it. You helped her and for that I'm grateful." I was utterly amazed. I had expected Arthur to be angry that I had buggered his wife, not grateful. My reaction must have been obvious because Arthur smiled. "Don't worry lad, if it gives Mollie pleasure then I'm happy. I trust my girl, I know she wouldn't betray me." ------------ I set back to work with a vengeance. I had no sense of time, my mind immersed in the thousand and one thoughts buzzing through my head. I stopped only when I heard a voice in the twilight. "Don't you think you should stop for the day?" It was Joan and Mary. "It's nearly nine, you need to eat." I realised that I was exhausted. Throughout the day my body had been on autopilot and I hadn't allowed myself to acknowledge any tiredness. I picked up my shirt and put the scythe over my shoulder. Mary and Joan stood in front of me, for once tongue tied. I realised they wanted to say something but were finding it difficult to say. "You don't need to tread lightly," I told them, "whatever you want to say just say it."