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Breakdown Cover

By: Victoriajohn



As I drove home from picking the kids up after their day at school, about a mile from our house, the car just came to a standstill. I hadn't noticed any unusual noises nor were there any warning lights illuminated on the dashboard. And I also had at least a quarter of a tank of petrol; according to the gauge.

As it came to a standstill at the side of the road I turned the key and the engine wurred over with the usual noise; so from that I deduced it wasn't a flat battery; but more than that, I had no idea. Well as we live out in the sticks; in a small village. This meant any taxi would need to travel six miles just to get to where we were. So I decided to opt for walking the mile back home. I mean it was a sunny summer's day, and the exercise would do us all good.

So once I'd collected together all the kids bags, off we set. That is me, a thirty-two year old mother of two, my son, Jason who was ten, and my daughter, Emily who was eight. Well if I'd thought the moaning the kids did when being told it was bedtime, was bad, then that was nothing compared to the moaning and complaining they did on the walk home. But after around twenty minutes we arrived home.

Well once they'd been fed, I took them around to the next door neighbour, so that she could look after them whilst I sorted out what I was going to do about my car. 

Now I guess most people wouldn't have thought twice about ringing for a taxi instead of walking, and in so doing, they'd have avoided all that moaning from the kids. But things in our household at the moment are running very close to the edge. I lost my job at the local library about four months ago, and jobs these days are getting harder to find every day.

My husband has accepted a roving position in the refrigeration repair company he works for, as this brings with it a ten percent increase in salary; to compensate for having to work away from home for up to three weeks at a time. And at the moment, we're at Wednesday of week two of one of these shifts.

I'm also aware that most people have breakdown cover on their cars, but again due to lack of money, I haven't. We almost didn't re-insure my car when the premium was due. But knowing that when it came to the winter months, I'd really struggle without my car, James agreed that we'd make sacrifices elsewhere. But added, "I hope the old girl keeps going, and gets through its next M.O.T. Cos once it chucks the towel in, I can't see us finding the money to get another car for you. Well not until things get back to normal and you get a job."

So, you can probably understand now, why I didn't follow the other thing that most people would have done when their car broke down; that is ring the garage and get them to tow it in for repair.

I had no idea what was wrong with my car, and I knew my James knew less than me about cars; so how was I proposing to sort the problem? Well across the road from us live two brothers, both in their mid to late forties. They both have fulltime jobs working for the local electricity company. But you'd quite often see them in the garage at the side of their house, mending cars, and mostly not cars belonging to them. I guess they had a reputation locally as Mr Fix-its. As it wouldn't only be cars, but lawn mowers, rotavators or just about anything with an engine in.

So I'm at their door and waiting for one of them to answer my knock. And I'm feeling more than a little nervous on two counts. The first is that I have no idea what I'm going to say when the door opens. I mean we only moved out to this village just over three years ago, so even though I know their names and a little about them; I can't really claim to know them or be their friend. The second and more important reason I'm nervous is Satan. No, I'm not talking about the devil; but to me he's almost as frightening. Satan is their big (and I do mean big), black and tan, long haired Alsatian. I know it always does everything either of the brothers tells it to do. But it's so big and so full of energy, and it bounds around at top speed. 

The door opens, and it's Trevor who is standing there, but seconds later, Satan's head appears alongside his master's leg. I stutter out my words, "Oh, I...I'm Shirley. Shirley Tranter. I live across the road. Number twenty-five."

"Yes me duck. I've seen you about." The dog nudges his way forwards and I step back, my face must obviously show my fear. "Get back and lie yourself down. Sorry about that lass. But he wouldn't hurt you, he's just being nosey. What was it you wanted?"

"Well I know this is going to sound really cheeky. But you see, my husband is working away from home. And I wasn't sure who to turn to. And I know you and your brother are good with cars."

"Well we tinker. But what exactly is your problem?"

"Well in truth, I guess it's lack of money. Otherwise I'd just have rung the garage, and then I wouldn't be over here pestering you."

"Well lass, join the club. We could all use a bob or two more these days. Those buggers down in parliament seam to take more every year and give half of it away to bloody foreigners. But enough of my moaning, you didn't come here to hear my complaints. What is it that you think I can help you with? I hope it isn't a sub."

"Oh no. I'd never be that brazen. It's my car that's broken down. I wondered if it was possible that you might be able to get it back home for me? You know, using a rope behind your Land Rover; like I've seen you do before."

"That depends. It's not on a motorway. Is it?"

"Oh no. It's out along Wreaking lane. About a mile away."

He turned and shouted up the stairs, "Hey Bill. There's a young damsel in distress down here. Shift your arse; I'll need your help."

And from the top of the stairs came the reply, "Be there in a mo. Just gotta finish watering the horse."

Trevor obviously saw my look of confusion, and explained, "He means he's taking a piss." And then without batting an eyelid, he stepped out of the front door, saying, "Come on then lass, we'll get the old jalopy backed out, and wait out on the road." Satan followed him, and I turned and did the same. As we reached his old Land Rover, he said, "Oh, have you got your car keys with you?"

"Oh god. No. I'll run back over home and get them. It's a good job you've got your brain working."

By the time I'd returned with my keys, their Land Rover was parked out on the road, with Trevor behind the wheel and Bill standing waiting by the passenger door. As I approached, he held the door open, as if ushering me in first. As I looked inside there only appeared to be two seats up front, and in the back sat Satan. 

I asked nervously, "Do I have to climb over into the back with your dog?"

Trevor answered, "No lass. That place is in a mess back there, with his muddy clart, and dog hairs. You'd get shit up to high heaven. Just climb over Bill's seat, and squat yourself down on this box in the middle."

Well I climbed in, and positioned myself on the box in between the two front seats. And it wasn't that it was cramped on width (in fact modern Land Rovers of this type now have a seat of sorts in this very position). 

But this was an ancient old wreck; I think it was that old its previous owner was Noah. He could have used it to drag his ark up onto dry land. 

So as I sat up on the wooden box, I had my feet planted either side of the big long gear leaver. Which meant that they were up at about the same height as my bottom; which was on the box. This meant my knees were sticking up, and my skirt naturally wanted to drop; leaving my legs (and I guess my panties) exposed to their view. 

So as I became aware of the situation, I immediately used my hands to pull and then hold the hem of my skirt up to my knees. But even this wouldn't restrict the view from in front of me.

By now Bill had climbed in, and Trevor said, "Right. Are we all fit?"

I quickly replied, "But I haven't got a seatbelt."

"You haven't got a seat. And if I was you, I'd use your hands to steady yourself. Without a seatback, you're likely to flip over backwards and end up on your arse in the back with Satan."

And then as if to demonstrate the point, he pulled off, and as the vehicle set in motion, I rocked over as he'd predicted. I'm not sure if it was his forewarning or just the fact I'd rolled back and collided with Satan, but I managed to grab the seat either side of me, and I didn't completely roll into the back. 

But on catching hold of the backs of their seats and hauling myself up, I slid forwards on the box, and my crotch met Trevor's hand as he was pulling the big long gear-lever back to select second gear.

It was only a momentary contact, because as soon as he dropped the clutch in second gear, I slid again, this time away from his hand. But the slipperiness of my skirt on the painted top of the wooden box, meant I had to concentrate all my thoughts to the task of keeping upright and out of reach of the gear-lever. So the hem of my skirt dropped to the top of my legs, and for the whole journey my legs were naked.

And whereas Trevor's eyes stayed mainly on the road ahead (which was where they should be). Bill had his head turned my way, and I could feel the stare of his eyeballs burning a hole through the gusset of my panties.

Regardless of Bill's glaring, and Satan's hot breath on my neck, within a few minutes we'd arrived at the spot where my car had come to a halt. And once we'd all climbed out, they began a quick check of the basics, to see if they could get it started. But after ten minutes of checking various things (some of which I'd already checked), they came to the conclusion that a tow home was necessary. So then, they wasted no time in getting a tow-rope fastened.

Then Trevor asked, "Have you been towed before? Or shall I get Bill to drive your car?"

Well I'd heard my dad relate stories about being towed, and I remembered that it always sounded like a dangerous operation. So I declined, saying, "No. I've never done it, and I'd rather Bill do it. He's got more experience than me."

"Ok, you climb back into the Landy, and we'll get going. Oh, do you want it at your place? Or shall we drop it off at ours, so we can try and suss out what's up with it?"

"Well I know I'm imposing, but if you drop it at my house, it won't move again until the scrap man arrives and hauls it up onto his wagon."

"It's a bit early to be talking scrap. It might be something simple. And by the look of the bodywork, there's plenty more miles of motoring left in it yet. So you're ok with us sticking it in our garage for the night?"

"Well yes, so long as it's not too much trouble."

"Nah. It'll give Bill something to do. Otherwise he'll only spend all night re-running his Benny Hill videos and wake up in the morning with a sore wrist again."

As I climbed into the passenger seat of the Land Rover, I slowly processed the last part of Trevor's remark, and began to blush at the inference therein. But I didn't have long to be embarrassed or even angry at him for making such a naughty quip, because as soon as Satan saw me climbing in, he got to his feet and instantly made his way towards the passenger seat. 

But once he saw it was me, he just sauntered across to greet Trevor as he climbed into the driver's door and got behind the wheel. In the few minutes it took to drive home, I asked Trevor about the lack of functional seat belts, to which he replied he didn't believe in them (how he ever got his Land Rover through its annual M.O.T. test I have no idea). 

And then he surprised me by saying, "I didn't mention it earlier, when it happened; as I didn't want to embarrass you in front of our Bill. But I'm sorry about nudging your fanny-ann. It wasn't intentional. I hope I didn't bruise it? I'm a thinking they're a bit on the dainty side."

I instantly coloured up red, and I struggled to find the words to reply, "That's alright. I could see it wasn't deliberate."

"I don't mind checking it for you; you know, to make sure it's not bruised or anything?"

I could hardly believe my ears at his off-hand manner in making such a crude suggestion. But I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, and put it down to simple country-bumpkin male naivety. And wanting to stem this topic of conversation, I said, "No. It's ok. Please forget it."

"That's easy for you to say. But for me, I'll be re-living that little encounter with your fanny-ann every night in bed for weeks to come."

Again the reality of what he meant by that took a few seconds to hit me, but when it did I shrunk back inside myself, as I sat silently blushing. Luckily for me, within seconds of him making his comment, we pulled up outside his house, and he got out, quickly followed by his dog.

And then a few seconds later he appeared at the passenger window and said, "Right lass. You get off home and look after your young'uns. Once we've checked it out, I'll come over and let you know the score."

It took all my resolve to get my voice working, and even then it started as a high pitched squeak; as I replied, "Thank you for what you've done. Oh, and thank Bill. I really am grateful to both of you."

"Don't you worry about Bill; he got more than his fair share of a reward gazing at your knickers. He'll not be short of inspiration for his nightly wrist exercises."

I couldn't answer, I turned on the spot and dashed into my next-door neighbours drive and quickly made my way to their front door; where I picked up the kids, and then went home.

Once I'd sorted them out and got them both into bed, I was sitting racking my brain to think where I'd find the number of any of the other mums that I knew in the area. That is mums who might be able to give my kids a lift to school along with their own. But whereas I knew and talked to lots of different mums at the school gates, I couldn't find one number.

It was then, at almost ten at night, that my door bell rang. It was Trevor, and I invited him in. I walked him down the hall into our back parlour, all the time trying to avoid him seeing my face. Because even though it was nearly three hours since he'd made those comments, just seeing his face as I opened the door, brought on another bout of blushing.

And as I gestured to offer him a seat, he said, "Don't take on so lass. I wasn't meaning to embarrass you earlier. I was paying you a compliment. But never mind that now; it's your car I've come about."

I did my best to rise above my embarrassment, "Is it good news? Please tell me it is?"

"It's good and bad. The bad is that your camshaft belt has snapped. The good is that you're lucky. Most cars, it all but destroys the engine. But your engine is what they call a safe one. So all it's done, is stop it working. Fit a new belt and it'll be back to where it was before."

"Does it cost much for a new belt?"

"Nah. About thirty quid."

"Oh my god, that sounds a lot. But at least I'll be able to squeeze that out of my household budget."

"Ah well maybe not. You can phone around the garages. But the last person I heard of, who had one fitted at a dealer, it cost just shy of four hundred notes. There's a fair bit of work removing all kinds of stuff, before you even get to the belt. And it's all time consuming. And time is money, especially at a garage."

"Well that's it then."

"That's what? What does that mean?"

"The car is scrap. There is no way we can afford that kind of money."

"Scrap is it? I sometimes think you young'uns have money to burn."

"No. It's not that. It's the very opposite. We can neither afford to repair it, nor buy a replacement car; so I'll have to go without."

"How can you. Out here in the villages, with the local school closed down twenty years since. You'll have to have a car." I shrugged my shoulders. "Well how are you getting your kids to school tomorrow?"

"At the moment, the only way I can think of, is if we all use our bikes."

"Around these lanes! With the bloody idiots we've got driving today? You'd have to be mad. Right, as far as tomorrow is concerned, I'll phone my cousin. His wife takes their kids to the same school as yours go to."

"Do they live in the village?"

"No. But there farm is only two miles along the gated road."

"But she won't be coming down that road to get to school. It would be dragging her miles out of her way."

"Can I use your phone?"

Well three minutes later, he'd sorted out tomorrow's school run, and after he'd explained the details to me, I said, "Thank you for helping. And if you let me know how much we owe you, I'll get my husband to bring it across the weekend after next when he arrives home. Oh, and do mind if I ask you to push the car back over the road and park it in our drive."

"Don't be a silly girl; you don't owe me a penny."

"Oh no. We'll have to pay you. You've used your fuel to tow my car back. And spent all night working on it. We've got to pay you."

His attitude suddenly changed, and the tone in his voice was agitated and aggressive, "If you ever mention paying me in money again in return for neighbourly help, as big as you are, I'll put you over my knee, pull your pants down, and smack your bare arse."

At this I kind of smirked, thinking it was just a dirty meaningless threat.

But he snapped in a very brusque manner, "I mean it. Out here we help each other. And if you feel you're indebted, then you put yourself out by offering to repay the debt with some other kindness."

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Well just think on next time." And then as his voice calmed down, he continued, "Now do you want us to get the belt and let you know how much it costs? Or do you want to shop around to see if you can get one cheap anywhere?"

"But. I mean. I've just said, I can't afford to pay a garage to fit it. And my husband wouldn't have a clue."

"And I've just told you. You're a villager now, one of us. We'll do the job. But if you think you can afford the belt, then that's alright, you can pay for it. But on the other hand, if you're really strapped for cash, I'm sure we could even sort that. It wouldn't break the bank to buy the belt for you."

I was about to say, I'd never be able to repay them, when I suddenly thought he might take that as meaning money. And I wasn't sure if he'd actually carry out his threat, and I'd end up having my naked bottom smacked. 

So instead I said, "I'm sure I'll be able to squeeze the money for the belt out of my housekeeping. But as far as thinking what service I can do for you and your Bill, the only thing that comes to mind would be maybe some cleaning around your house or maybe washing."

"Bill wouldn't have anyone in there cleaning, and like as not he'd take it as an insult if you suggested it. And we've got an automatic washing machine; so that's sorted. But don't worry about that now, the point is, should we get the belt, so we can get started on the repair as soon as we get home from work tomorrow?"

"Well in that case, yes please. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No lass. You've got your hands full with the kids. And being as we're on shift, we'll be able to get started while there's plenty of daylight. So I'll come over tomorrow night, probably about this time. If that's not too late for you?"

"No. I rarely go to bed before eleven."

"Ok, half ten, to give you a progress report. Or if you're lucky and we get it finished earlier, you might even see it arrive back in your drive."

An unexplained surge welled up through my body, tears came to my eyes, and without even thinking what I was doing I pounced on him. I say pounced, because that is the nearest word I can find to describe my actions. I'd sprung up from my chair, and flung my arms around his neck. And with him still seated, I smothered his lips with kisses. I know it wasn't a sexual advance on my part. And gratitude doesn't usually surge in that way; well not in my experience. I'm assuming the feelings were a sudden release, as I realized that the bleak future I'd been expecting had now been avoided. So I'll put it down to relief.


Breakdown Cover Ch. 02



When I awoke the next morning, I couldn't understand the feeling of wellbeing that filled my whole body. And for just those few fleeting moments, I felt like the world was such a wonderful place.

But as my brain clicked into gear, it all came flooding back. The reality of the night before and the horror of what I'd been lured into. And in the awakening, my initial response was one of overriding guilt. Maybe I wasn't the guilty party as far as instigating what had taken place, but I knew I bore the burden of guilt for the ease at which I'd capitulated and then cooperated.

But then as I reviewed the various aspects of the events that had led up to my night of sexual depravity, I began to search for excuses for that capitulation. One thing that I clung onto was that crude saying Trevor had come up with yesterday. If you want to keep a wife at home, keep her well fucked and poorly shod. 

Now I'm not saying my shoes are anything special, in fact, due to our finances, I'd say they could probably do with replacing. So that part of the saying hardly applies. 

But on the other score, Trevor had no idea just how perceptive his comments were.

And in truth, it wasn't really the fault of my husband. The problem stemmed from me losing my job, and my extremely regular periods. And as fate would have it, right from the very first time he started this working away from home; my period was coming to an end that very weekend. So the week previous to that had been one without sex. Then for the next three weeks, he was away, coming home on the Wednesday, two days into my next period. And so for three months, every time he's been at home, sex has been off the agenda due to my natural cycle.

Now I know it's a very slim excuse to make, but going without for three months (well counting the week before and these two weeks since he went away, nearly four months), it's a long time, and I'm blaming that, for how easily they got me aroused.

Well back to the present, it's Saturday morning, and I'd arranged to go to the farm about mid-day to pick-up the kids. So at around twelve, I set-off. And again, like yesterday, the instant I turned the key in the ignition, the engine burst into life, and it ran like a new one, all the way to the farm. 

And just this simple thing, made me wonder if maybe I wasn't putting too much angst into what took place yesterday. After all, I wasn't hurt. Neither were my family. And if anything, we'd all got something out of the deal. 

The kids had new friends, with a fun environment to go play, and they'd not have to start using their bikes to go to school. That had to be good with winter coming on. 

As far as my husband goes; he hadn't got the stress or worry about the kids cycling to school, and the pressure to buy us a new car.

And me, well all the things that made their life better, obviously made me happy. And, of course, there was this feeling. It's hard to put into words. I guess I'd not realised I was getting frustrated by the lack of sex. But the serene feeling that kept engulfing me since last night, told me something must have been amiss before.

Not that I'm saying I'd been able to forget the seedier side of what had taken place yesterday, but I had attempted to put it all behind me, and try to think positive thoughts. I'd obviously decided that never again would I set foot in their house. But now, knowing the farm I was driving towards, was owned, and run by relatives of Trevor and Bill, I began to wonder if maybe I'd be in danger there. But surely that was stupid. I mean, the relatives of a convicted murderer don't go around murdering people.

Anyway, I had to go to the farm, my two children were there. 

So I pulled into the car parking area in front of the farm shop, and not knowing if it was safe to just open the big gates to the farmyard, and then walk in, I opted for asking inside the farm shop. The woman serving soon had a phone in her hand, and within a couple of minutes Mary had arrived with both mine, and her own kids in tow. So with four excited kids jostling around us, I got the guided tour of the farm buildings; or at least all the ones containing animals.

Some thirty or so minutes later I'm on my way home with the kids in the car, and as you might imagine, they were full of it, it was farm this and farm that. And even on the Monday morning at the school gates, as we met up with Mary and her kids, they were all planning another sleep over. 

So we move on, it's Tuesday, and I'm expecting James home in two days time. Oh, and yes, my period has started, so once again, sex won't be on offer for him. 

I was out in the front garden weeding the boarders, when I saw Trevor's Land Rover pull into their drive. I knew they'd seen me, but I didn't want to get into a conversation with them. So I got to my feet and started to gather all my tools together. But before I got chance to complete my gathering, Trevor's voice boomed across the road, “Alright Shirley luv. How's the car running?”

Now as much as I didn't want a conversation. I was even more worried about any conversing at this distance. It's a quiet village, and neighbours for several houses in either direction would be sure to hear every word at this volume.

So instead of retreating to the house, I quickly strode across to where Trevor stood at his front gate, “Please keep your voice down. I told you before; I don't want my husband to know you've repaired the car. It was supposed to be a secret.”

“Sorry lass, I forgot. But now you're here, how is it running?"

In an irritated tone, I said, “It fine. But I've told you, I don't want to be seen talking with you.”

“Well your gratitude was short lived. That car was more than just fine last week. And you were bubbling over with appreciation. And now you'll not even give us the time of day.”

“Well what d'you expect after the things you did to me last Friday night?”

“I'd assumed you'd have reasoned that through by now, and realised you're still up on the deal. I mean Bill was hoping you'd pay us another visit one night this week; y'know, before your husband arrives home.”

“You've got a bloody nerve. You're lucky I haven't reported you pair to the police.”

“That would have been a silly thing to do, especially as we've got a computer with a thousand or more pictures and half a dozen videos. And in almost every one, you're either smiling or at least showing an expression of delight.”

“I thought you deleted those?”

“We did, out of that folder; but the originals were still on the memory cards in the cameras. Bill has now trawled through every thing we took, and any pictures showing you being held, or videos where you're protesting, has all been cut away and deleted. So if anyone were to come and look at our computer, they'd only find evidence of a willing and happy lass enjoying a good fucking.”

“You bastards. I trusted you.”

“So what about Bill, can I tell him we'll be seeing you again one night this week?”

“No you can't. You can tell him to go fuck himself.”

“Oh don't worry, he does that regular. Well me'be not fuck, but wank; that's the next best thing.”

“Don't be so crude.”

“And you should stop being so prudish. You know we're owed another night. Fairs, fair.” 

I turned and as I began to walk away, I said, “I'm not listening to any more. And from now on, I'll thank you to keep your nose out of my business. I never want to hear your voice or see you again.”

His reply started at normal volume, but as I walked and the distance between us grew, so did his volume, until he was all but shouting. “Well in that case, you'd better close your eyes and cover your ears, cos Bill and I were living in this village before you came, and we'll likely be here when you leave. But you think on what I've said, one more night and we'll be even. YOU WOULDN'T WANT ANY OF THOSE PICTURES TO ACCIDENTALLY LEAK FROM OUR COMPUTER.”

Over the next two days, I did think about the threats involved with those photos and videos. But with my period upon me, even if I'd been of a mind to capitulate, it would have been a non starter. But I wasn't in that frame of mind; even with their loaded arsenal of incriminating pictures, I was still determined I'd not go back to them.

So sleepless nights followed, and now it's Thursday afternoon and my James has just driven onto our drive in his works van. Before I can even open the front door, the children are racing across the garden to meet him. By the time I join them, they're making their way to the door and the kids a talking none stop. And you can guess what about; farms and sleep over's.

As we came together, we kissed and said our usual things. You know, the, I've missed you, and it's so good to hold you again, etc. And then as we walked into the house with the kids dogging our heals, I asked, “Of course they can what?”

“Sam's farm. They've been telling me all about their sleep over last weekend. I assume you're ok with them doing it again this Friday. They said Sam's wife threw out the invite.”

“She did. But I thought, being as you see so little of them these days, I didn't say yes right off. But if you're ok with it, I’ll tell her at the school gates in the morning.”

“Yes, let them enjoy themselves. So how have you managed? Any problems?”

“No. It's been pretty routine.”

Then Jason piped-up, “Mummy, tell him about the car.” That was all I needed, now I'd have to lie my way out.

James asked, “The car? What about the car?”

Jason was bubbling with excitement, as he'd now got his dad's full attention. And although James had asked me the question, before I could think what to say, and had started to reply, Jason burst out with, “It broke down, and we had to walk home. And then…”

“Ok, ok. I was asking mummy. Now you pair run and play for five minutes while we talk.”

So looking a little crestfallen, he followed his sister out into the garden. Then James looked my way, “Go on then, how much?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? So how did you manage that?”

I explained everything, pretty much as it really happened, thinking Jason was likely to fill in with his own version at the first opportunity. But as Jason knew nothing about the seriousness of the cause of the breakdown, nor the accompanying cost; when I came to the part about what the two kind gentlemen had found wrong, I then lied. “We were lucky. It was something and nothing. Apparently a wire or connection of some sort just came loose. And they wouldn't hear of taking any payment for towing the car home. So I baked them a blackberry and apple pie. And even the ingredients for that were free, apples off our tree, and blackberries from the bush down the back lane.”

He kissed me, and said, “Who's a clever little girl then. I'd never have had the cheek to have asked them for help. We hardly know them.”

“Well, I wouldn't under normal circumstances. But with you being away, I just put on my little girl lost look, and hoped they'd take pity on me.”

“Well ten out of ten for quick thinking. But I guess I ought to go over there and thank them.”

“I don't really think that's necessary. I mean they said it was nothing. Five minutes work at most.”

“But you said they towed your car home. If you'd called a garage in, that would have been fifty quid at least.”

“Still, it was last week. And they seemed more than happy with my pie. Maybe if you happen to see them about on the weekend, you could say thank you then.”

So thankfully, the subject was dropped, and nothing of any consequence came up for the rest of the evening. 

The next day, Friday, he went off to work, but only at the local factory. When I met Mary at the school gates, I told her James was ok with the kids having another sleep over, if it was still on offer.

So come the afternoon, with no kids to collect, I was waiting for Trevor and Bill, and I intercepted him before he'd made his way to his front door.

“Trevor. I'm sorry to bother you. Can I have a quick word?”

He'd already seen me arrive at his gates, but until I called, he'd ignored me. But now he stopped, some thirty feet away from where I stood by his front gate. “I can't talk at this distance, come to the house.” And with that he turned, and carried on walking.

“Please Trevor. Please listen.”

He stopped, turned, and put a hand up to cup his ear, “Can't hear you lass. You'll have to come closer.”

I was now getting really desperate, but I was determined I'd not set one foot onto his property. “Trevor please. I'm really sorry if I upset you on Tuesday. But now I'm begging for your help.”

He put down his workbag, and started a deliberately slow walk towards me, by now; Bill was in the open doorway to the house, fussing a very excited dog. 

As Trevor got within earshot of normal talking volume, I said, “Thank you for coming…” 

I had intended to say more, but he cut me short with a very brusque, “Don't you know anything about country ways? There's only one thing us country folk detest more than a beggar. And that's a thief. And in my book, anyone desperate enough to beg, is only one step away from stealing. So be gone with your begging.”

“Please Trevor, just…”

“Look lass. We helped you once, and on Tuesday you made it plane enough you'd never accept our help again. Or have you changed your mind. They say that's a woman's prerogative?”

“I do need your help, and I am sorry about what I said on Tuesday.”

“I see. So are you begging, or asking for a favour. There is a difference. Beggars stand in the street expecting something for nothing. But if it's a favour. Well, you'll come up to the front door like you did last time, and we can talk friendly, like neighbours.”

Then he turned and walked back to his house.

I stood there for maybe ten seconds, but knowing I needed his cooperation in his response to my husband's impending visit, I opened the gates and followed him. He didn't look back, but I'm sure he knew I was following.

At the door he turned, “Now isn't this better? Tell me, what can I help you with? Is there a problem with your car?”

“No, well yes in a way.”

So stood in his open doorway, I told him all about what I'd told James, and explained that I wanted him to back-up my version of events.

When I'd finished, he said, “I see. But by my reckoning, you're still light as regards repaying us back for the last one; to the tune of one night.”

I obviously didn't want to. But at this point, I guess I'd realised this was the only way I'd get his help. But then a thought struck me, they were already saying I owed them one more night, and so as the threat they posed with the photos and videos was real. I said, “If I agreed to come back next Friday, once James has gone off again; then will you do it?”

“But you already owe us one night.”

“Yes, but you based that on how long it took you to repair my car. Fobbing James off with this little tale will only take a minute at most. So I'll stop a minute extra on Friday.”

He smiled, “That's clever. I like that. But going from just keeping your car repair a secret, to corroborating a lie. That's a whole different ball game. If he finds out the truth, and we've corroborated your story, that then makes us guilty. And sure as eggs is eggs, he'll work out what we're guilty of. No, I'm sure you realise, the very least this deserves is for you to come inside now, and let us both have a quickie.”

“But I can't do anything today. It's the wrong time of the month.”

He let out a little laugh, “I'll bet it is. So hubby comes home with a four week boner, and wifie pulls up the draw bridge. Don't come that one, when did it start?”

“Monday.”

He stood there calculating, and then said, “You're not seriously telling me that for the last three months, every time he's come home, you've been out of commission?”

“Yes.”

“No bloody wonder you were gagging for it last week. But hold on, how do I know you're telling the truth?”

“I am, honest.”

He took hold of my arm just above the elbow, and as he stepped back inside, “Come-on, we'll soon have the truth of this.”

I grabbed the edge of the door frame, and as I resisted with all my strength, I said, “What are you going to do?”

By now I was inside and as he peeled my fingers off the frame and closed the door, he said, “Are you wearing rag or a tampon?”

“Please Trevor. That's so personal.”

Then whilst still holding me with one hand, his other went under my skirt, and forced its way into my knickers. And then smiling, as he withdrew his hand, he said, “Tampon, I felt the little mouse's tail. Ok, so no fuck today. But being as we're going the extra mile to cover your tracks, when you come next Friday, you can have a sleep over.”

“What d'you mean?”

“Next Friday; your kids can have another sleep over at the farm; and you can have your own sleep over here.”

“Oh no. Not all night.”

“That's the deal. Or maybe I'll just come clean when hubby asks about the car. And say you explained you were broke, but suggested you'd pay another way. Of course I'll say we didn't want to, but you insisted.”

“Ok, I know when I'm beaten. I need your help, so I'll do what you want.”

“I'm not convinced. And I'm not even sure you'll honour your side of the bargain once I've lied to your husband.”

“I will. I promise on my Honour.”

“Well do something for us now, to prove you mean what you say.”

“I can't my James will be home at any time.”

“Well unless you prove your willingness to come back, by showing us a quick demonstration of your obedience, then I'll have to tell him the truth, and show him the photos.”

“No don't. I'll do whatever you want, but don't forget, it is the wrong time of the month, so it can't be anything below the waist.”

“Not your waist, maybe. But you could bare your titties, and suck our cocks in turn, while the other takes your picture. Just in case you're thinking of going back on our Friday arrangement.”

It seemed like I hadn't got any alternative, so I said, “Ok, but I'll have to watch the time.”

He called up the stairs, “Hey Bill, get your arse down here. The lass wants to suck on your cock.” Then turning to me, “Ok, into the back room, and get those tits out.”

And so, I was once again in their back room, stripped to the waist and on my knees. And as I sucked and caressed Bill's cock, Trevor took the pictures. And then when I was with Trevor Bill did the photography. And with both of them, they held my head, making sure I took and swallowed all.

Thankfully, once I'd played my part, they lived up to Trevor's deal, and I was allowed to go home. Which was quite fortuitous, as James came home earlier than I'd expected. “Ok, being as we haven't got the kids, we're going out for a meal.”

“A meal? Why what's the occasion?”

“Well it's been a while since we've been out, and being as you were so clever and saved us spending money on towing charges, I thought we'd lash out a bit. Nothing special, just pub grub.”

So thirty minutes later, I was dressed up, not to the nines, but good enough for a pub meal. But it wasn't until James took the keys down from the hook, that I thought about the car. Would he notice? And even if he did, could I put the smoother running down to the loose wire I'd blamed for the breakdown?

Well he noticed. Instantly, as I'd done the first time after it had been repaired. “My God! What the." He hesitated, then looking at me intently, "Loose wire!” He revved the engine a couple of times. “They've done a damn site more than connect a loose wire.”

The only feeble excuse I could muster was, “That was what they said it was.”

By now we were off down the road, and looking across at me, he said, “I thought you said it only took them a few minutes to fix it?”

I attempted to stick to my guns, “It did. Well maybe half an hour or so. It wasn't long, I know that.”

He then drove in silence until we reached the pub, some ten minutes later. And all during the meal, it was obvious by the cold shoulder, that he wasn't happy. And with the ominous silence all through the meal, it felt like we'd been out for hours.




Breakdown Cover Ch. 02



But when we'd arrived home, it transpired that we'd been out just over an hour. And then with it still being early, James picked up the phone, and asked, “What's the number for Mary?”

“Mary?”

“Yes. The farm where the kids are staying.”

“Why? What d'you want to ring them for?”

“To talk to the kids. Make sure they're ok.”

I didn't want to tell him, in fact I almost said I didn't know; but I realised that would be silly. So I gave him the number, and he rang. It was painful to listen to, he started with innocent how are you and what have you been doing questions. And then it came, “Mummy has just been telling me about last week when the car broke down.”

I didn't hear Jason's reply, but I guess now he'd been asked about it, he just spilled the whole thing out. The upshot was, when James put the phone down, he said, “OK. What's the big deal?”

“I'm not sure what you mean.”

“Jason says it wasn't mended on the day it broke down. Mary took them to school. How long were they working on it.”

“Two days. Well two evenings. And Jason was right Mary did give the kids a lift to school, but only the once.”

“So they worked on the car for two days from early afternoon, until when?”

“I'm not sure, maybe around ten'ish.”

“So two nights working all those hours. Two men we don't even know. Ok, how much did you pay them?”

“Nothing. Honest. I offered. I said you'd pay when you got back home. But they said they don't take money. They said it's a country thing. Neighbours helping each other.”

“So if we're that much in their debt, why did you stop me going over to thank them yesterday? I know it wouldn't be enough, but at least it would show we appreciated their help.”

I was now boxed into a corner, and couldn't think how to answer. And I just burst out into tears.

“Ok. I don't understand what's gone on. But I'm sure as hell gonna find out.”

So, as James now makes the running, I'll let him take over telling the story.

I was fuming. I knew my Shirley, and this lie telling and secretive behaviour, was definitely not her. So I knew someone else was to blame. And from what little I knew of what had been going on behind my back, it was all pointing to the two men who lived in the house opposite.

So when I got to their front door, I opted for using the heavy metal door knocker; that is as apposed to using the electric doorbell. And I didn't knock it gently; I whacked it against its metal anvil as violently as I could. It had the desired effect of sending an earth shattering banging through the hallway of the house. And this in turn had the desired effect of bringing at least one of the occupants to the door in a state of confusion.

As he opened the door, he angrily demanded, “What's all the bloody racket? Are you trying to break the bloody door down?”

“I'm Mr Tranter, and I want to know what's been going on?”

The man's anger, and hence the tone of his voice, changed instantly. “Ah, you must be James.” And out came his hand, as if offering it for a handshake, as he continued with, “Shirley's husband. We were expecting you.”

“Never mind the handshake. I want to know what's been going on?”

“No doubt you'll be inquiring about your car. Well it was something and nothing. No more than a loose wire.”

As he said the words, no more than, I spoke in unison with him, completing his sentence. “A loose wire. Yes, I've heard that one. But what I want this time is the truth.”

“Ah. I see. Her little charade didn't hold water. I guess I'd expected you'd see through that. In that case, me'be you'd better come in, so I can give you the full story.” He stepped back to one side, and as I stepped in, their big black and tan Alsatian dog got to his feet, from where he'd been lying on the floor behind his master. And as he did, I made an involuntary, momentary pause. “Don't worry about Satan. So long as you keep calm, don't raise your voice, and don't make any threatening gestures, he'll not bother you.”

“Is that supposed to worry me?”

“Worry you? I thought I was explaining exactly the opposite. I saw your reaction to Satan, and I was attempting to put you at your ease.”

“What, with all that shit about not raising my voice, or making threatening gestures. I could see what you were saying. Well neither you nor your dog scares me. So let's go inside and hear how you explain away what's happened between you and my wife.”

“Ok, after you. We sit in the back room.”

I strode down his hallway and into the back room, with him following. And bearing in mind, even though I knew these men were called Trevor and Bill, at this point in time, I didn't know which of the two this was. But as he followed me into the room, he offered me a seat and sat himself opposite me. He then said calmly, “Can I get you something, a cup of tea, or something stronger?”

“No, thank you. All I want is an explanation of why my wife lied, and why she's sitting at home in tears; unable to explain herself.”

He went on to tell me all about my wife's car breaking down, and the sequence of events that followed; pretty much as you've already read in my wife's version of this story. But I'm guessing there were parts he left out, or altered inferences in places. And the way he told it, him and his brother Bill were knights in shining armour, with glowing halos above their heads. 

But I'm guessing that the real divergence in the two versions of the story was from the point when my wife appeared at their door last Friday afternoon. But bearing in mind, at this point, I hadn't heard the version you have.

So this was how Trevor, for that was who I now knew I was talking to, described what happened last Friday.

“Your lass was so excited. Well I guess being as you've now driven the car, you'll know what I mean when I say she was overwhelmed by the change in it. And I don't think it was just excitement and gratitude about the car itself. I think when things had all gone wrong for her, and having to walk home with the young'uns. And then the consequences of no car and not enough money. I guess that anxiety must have been all bottled up. So when she arrived at the door, it was. Well I'm not sure how to describe it. She flung her arms around my neck and started planting kisses on me. Not just one, but in a kind of frenzy. I mean I could tell right off she wasn't in a rational state.”

“So you took advantage of her?”

“No, of course not. I brought her in here and attempted to calm her down. But her emotions were going haywire, she started crying, and then apologising for the fact she was crying. I couldn't really do anything with her. Well apart from sitting with her on that settee and holding her in a fatherly cuddle until she'd cried herself out. But before she reached that point, Bill came down to see what all the fuss was about, so I got him to reassure her, whilst I went out to make a cup of tea.”

“What d'you mean? Reassure her?”

“Nothing untoward. He just took my place on the settee, and held her whilst she sobbed.”

“And then what?”

“Look, I want you to understand this. D'you know about our Bill?”

“What d'you mean? Know about him. What's to know?”

“He's not the sharpest knife in the box. Don't get me wrong, put a spanner in his hand or let him listen to a knock or rattle in an engine, and he'll sort it in no time. But he's not at ease with people; especially women. He's never been with one before. So when your lass's mood swung full circle again and she started in on kissing him, he didn't have any idea where she was leading him. And in truth, the state she was in, I don't think she realised either.”

“Are you trying to tell me Shirley egged him on?”

“Not deliberately. But as he responded to her kissing, her kissing changed from simple kisses on the lips, to open mouthed. French jobs. I mean, Bill hadn't got a clue, he just reacted to the natural urges.”

“What you mean is, he raped her!”

“There was no rape. She was the one guiding the way. Bill just followed. I'll grant you he was willing enough once the newness of the situation had worn off.”

“I don't believe a word of it. I'm going straight to the police. Let's see if you can persuade them with your cock and bull story.”

“I think you ought to consider your wife's feelings for a minute. Especially when the truth of this gets out. It's not everyone who'll put such an understanding interpretation on her actions. And in that respect you'll not look good yourself.”

“Me? How's any of this reflect on me?”

“Well all this stems from your neglect.”

“How the hell d'you make that out?”

“Well the car only needed servicing once a year and you didn't even do that. But to keep a woman right, they need constant attention. A good fucking once a night is only basic rations for a healthy lass of her age. And you're away for three weeks at a time. No wonder she flipped.”

“Don't be so foul. That's my wife you're talking about.”

“I know, I remember hearing her on that very settee. It was bad enough watching them while she was arching her back and telling our Bill to give it to her harder. But the sobbing afterwards. She was devastated when she came down and realised what she'd done. I tell you, if it'd not been for her kids, I don't think she'd have been here when you came home.”

“Don't give me that shit. She wouldn't have left me, just because your brother raped her.”

“I'm not talking of leaving. Unless you mean leaving this life. She was in bits. Talking of suicide. I tell you it was only when I thought of your young'uns, and reminded her of how they'd miss her. But not for that, I genuinely think she'd have done it.”

“Well I don't believe a word you've said. I'm going home, and tomorrow morning I'll be taking her to the police station in town.” 

And then as I got to my feet, so did Trevor, saying, “I'm a coming with you. I don't want you colouring what I've told you with your own slant, and changing the meaning.”

“There's no need. The police will get the true story direct from Shirley.”

“I'm not asking your permission. I'm telling you, I'm coming with you. I've had to break a promise I made to your wife. And I'll be damned if I'll let you misrepresent what I've said. She'll hear it from my lips, so she knows I'm not telling tales behind her back.”

The march from his house to mine was done in an ominous silence. But although it only took a minute, you'd not believe the amount of thinking and reasoning that took place in my head. Could my Shirley really have given herself to that man willingly? This question I turned over and over, but had difficulty in accepting. But the more worrying, and hard hitting, was my part in all this. Yes I'll hold my hand up to the blame for the car breaking down. After all, it was an old car, and I knew it was way past due for a service. And I guess, when Shirley first lost her job, I did say that when it finally gave up the ghost, we'd not be able to afford another. So could that have built up into enough pressure to drive her to such extreme actions? But overriding all those concerns was his comment about lack of loving. I guess I'd not even thought about it. 

Yes I know it affected me, but I'm a man and men have a craving for sex that women don't feel. So after just the first six weeks without, I was as horny as a buck rabbit in springtime. And on my second stint away from home, I had a little fling with the landlady whose house I was boarding in. She was nothing special, but as they say, any port in a storm, and my sea was getting pretty stormy. It wasn't anything that was going anywhere, just an opportunity that presented itself on the last three nights of a five night stay; and I've never seen her since. 

And since then, there's only been one other. A woman in a pub, who I bought a drink for, and we chatted until the pub closed. And the fuck, well it was nothing special, up against the wall in a back alley. So yes I know men suffer if they're not getting it regular, but I always thought women looked upon sex as a duty or a chore that came with marriage.

Shit, we're here and I'm opening the front door. I lead Trevor into our front room, and Shirley is still sitting in the chair where I left her; and she still looks like she's crying. I point Trevor towards the chair at the other side of the room, and then nip out to have a quick piss; I was busting.

This next bit might get a little confusing, as when each of the three people finds it necessary to explain their feelings, they will take over the story.

Trevor.

As soon as he's out of earshot, I go over to Shirley, take hold of her by the shoulders, and say as forcefully as possible, without raising my voice, “Listen lass. I'm not sure what went on before he came to see me, but I've had to come clean on all we did to your car. And I've also told him about you and Bill having sex.”

Shirley.

I heard James arrive back, but I was still in no mood to discuss anything. In fact, I was in no mood for anything at all. Then I became aware of Trevor in the room. And seconds later he'd got hold of me, and he was talking. At first, it was just words, nothing registered, or if it did; it certainly didn't matter. And then something struck home. He said, “I've also told him about you and Bill having sex.”

My head almost exploded. I opened my eyes, and staring at him in disbelief, I said, “Please no.” 

I would have said more, but he put his finger to my lips, and said, “Don't talk. We haven't got time. I've blamed Bills lack of wits, your distressed state of mind, but mostly your James for not fucking you regular. Now if you don't want this whole thing to blow up into a big row and end up with a divorce, you'll nod your head and backup everything I say. Hold up, he's coming back, think on lass.”

James.

As I'd expected, when I arrived back in the front room to join my wife and Trevor, she was still sat there with her head down. And even this state of continued withdrawal, made me edge towards believing Trevor's story. I went and sat on the arm of the chair she was sitting in, and with my arm on her shoulder, said, “I'm sorry love. But I just need to get my head around what's been going on. Now I'm not saying I believe him, but he's been telling me some kind of story about you and his brother.” She didn't reply, she didn't even look up. “Ok, I know this must be hard, especially if what he says is true. So I'll forget most of the why's and wherefore's for now. I'll just cut to the nitty gritty. And then if you confirm what he's said he might as well go. He's saying you and his brother had sex?” Still no reply, but the intensity of her crying increased. “Please Shirley. I'm not gonna be angry with you. I just have to know. Did he?”

Trevor had been silent up to now. But at this point he launched himself to his feet, and snapped out, “Hey! I'll not have that. It takes two to tango, and our Bill didn't even know how to dance. This was just something that happened without either of them knowing, and once started; neither of them could stop it.”

I'd already turned in reaction to Trevor getting to his feet, and I said, “Ok Ok. I hear you. Just back off a minute." And then looking back down at my wife, I said, "Please Shirley. Just nod your head if he's telling the truth when he says you and Bill had sex?” She nodded her head, and another flood of tears burst forth. “Ok, just one more thing. Did he rape you?” Without any hesitation, her head swung slowly from side to side, a definite shake of the head, which meant no.

So that was it. Trevor had told the truth, or as near as I was going to get, and it seamed pointless him being here. I turned to him, “You might as well go.”

“I'll leave when your lass tells me she feels safe.”

“What d'you mean? Safe? You're not here to protect her.”

He rose to his feet again, “Look lad. I've seen husbands that feel they've been cheated on before. I'm not leaving until she tells me she feels safe to be left with you.”

“This is my house; you'll go when I say you go.”

“No lad. You're not big enough to throw me out, and if you've got any sense at all, you'll forget I'm here and look to your wife. She needs to know you care more about her wellbeing than you care about stupid marital conventions.”

“Ok, have it your way, but I don't want you sticking your oar in. Just sit there and keep your nose out.”

I spent a good forty minutes or more, gently coaxing my wife out of the shell she'd withdrawn herself into. Not that she was back to her old self by then, but she'd at least stopped crying.

And Trevor, well surprisingly, half an hour after I'd had to tell him to keep his nose out; he got to his feet and said, “Well, I'm off home. I can see you've come to your senses, so the lass will be alright. But I will be popping across tomorrow to check on things, so no recriminations once I'm out of earshot.”

I let him go without bothering to take him up on his comments, and as I've said, I carried on coaxing her until she was once again able to talk to me. But even though she was able to talk small talk, it was obvious I wasn't going to get any more information about what had really taken place.

That night in bed, we cuddled, we kissed, and we both vowed our undying love for each other. But one thing I didn't do, was to press her on the details. It wasn't that I was satisfied with what I'd been told, or that I believed it. But it was obvious that Shirley wasn't in a state to tell me. So I consoled myself with Trevor's version, blaming worry, excitement and mostly a deep rooted frustration caused by lack of sex. This was something I'd never considered before, but from now on, it was something I couldn't ignore. Maybe I should suggest she gets herself a vibrator?

Shirley.

I was so confused, Trevor had gone, and James was doing everything he could think of, to comfort and reassure me that things between us were alright. But I'd just admitted to having sex with the man from across the road. And I'd even let him believe I'd been, well if not encouraging him, then at least in some way instructing him. How had Trevor put it? “It takes two to tango, and our Bill didn't even know how to dance.” Meaning I'd shown him; and we all knew Trevor didn't really mean dancing.

So as much as I was glad that James was being so understanding, I couldn't understand why.

I can't remember any of the rest of that evening, and even once in bed, it's all a blur.

The next morning things just appeared to be normal, that is as far as the surface behaviour of James. But even though I knew he was still burning to get answers from me, I still wasn't in the frame of mind to face him. So during the morning, while he went out to the garage for his monthly fight with the mower, I was busy with my own chores in the kitchen. 

I say monthly fight with the mower, but until he started this working away from home shift, it had previously been a weekly fight. And even from the kitchen, I could hear him grumbling in the garage, as he pulled time and again on the starting rope of the mower. And then I heard, “Fuck and shit. I'm fucking fed up to the back teeth with this heap of shit.” And then the garage doors slammed shut with a loud, “Crash.”

As I went to the lounge to look out of the window, I saw Trevor striding down our garden path after James, who was making his way back to the house.

James takes over again.

On Saturday morning, I did my best to appear upbeat, and not to let my inner feelings show. But in truth, I was seething. I couldn't imagine how Shirley had done what she'd done. And for all I'd said the words, and I think, at the time, meant them; it just didn't seem possible to forgive her. And no matter what, there was no way on God's earth I could forget.

But like I say, I tried, and in trying, I thought that keeping to my normal routine would be the best way to attempt to let things settle out. So after breakfast and the usual meaningless idle conversation, I went out to mow the lawns. This was always a challenge at the best of times; as the mower was old and very temperamental. It normally did a passable job once started, but getting it going was never easy. But in my current mood, it wasn't just difficult, it was proving impossible. And after maybe five minutes of flogging my guts out pulling on the starter cord, the bloody cord snapped! I was bloody furious, and after venting my anger with a few choice words, and throwing the starting handle with the remnants of the cord still attached across the garage, I slammed the garage doors closed. 




Breakdown Cover Ch. 02



Then as I stormed my way back to the house, I heard Trevor's voice, “Hey hold up there lad.”

I stopped, turned, and in and angry scowl, asked, “What the fuck do you want?”

“Now now lad. Calm yourself down and listen a minute.”

“I am calm. Say what you've gotta say and go.”

“Oh come on. Stop beating yourself up. I know it's hard to accept that you've let her down, but it's not the end of the world, and it's not too late to turn things around.”

“What are you going on about?”

“Ok, you don't want to discuss it out here, I can understand that. But let me attempt to pour oil on troubled waters. Get your mower and bring it over to our place. And whilst Bill and I sort it out, you can borrow our mower.”

“Just go.”

“Don't be silly lad. Cutting off your nose to spite your face is in anyone’s book a stupid thing to do. Our mower will eat your little lawn in half the time you'd usually take. And I know we’ve got spare starter cord, we buy it by the reel. Now come on, it's a genuine peace offering.”

“I don't know. I might take you up on borrowing your mower; just this once. But I'll take mine in and pay to get it fixed. I don't want to be owing you any favours.”

“You won't owe us a thing. As I said, think of it as a peace offering. Now you get your mower and bring it over, I'll go and open up the doors to our garage.”

So very reluctantly, I took my mower across the road, and brought their mower over to my garden. And like Trevor said, their big mower sorted my little lawns in half the time I'd normally take. Not just because of its size, but it just cut so well.

Once I finished, I went back across, and I couldn't believe my eyes. My mower was in so many bits, I couldn't imagine they'd ever know what went where, or how to put it back together again. As soon as Trevor saw me, he said, “All done then?”

“Yes. And I'm sorry if I was a bit offhand with you earlier. I've been doing some thinking whilst I was mowing; I guess it isn't you I should be angry with.”

“That's alright lad. It's obvious you're having difficulty coming to terms with the situation. But like I said earlier, it's not the end of the world, and it's not too late to turn things around.”

“How d'you mean?”

“Your problems stem from all this time spent away from home.”

“I know, but we need the money.”

“Yes, I know that. And I've thought of a way your wife can start earning again.”

My instantaneous reaction was to think he was going to suggest paying her for sex, and almost before he'd stopped speaking, I blurted out, “You'd better not be going to make some kind of sexual suggestion.”

“Sexual? What are you going on about?”

“I d'know. Earning money how?”

“Well I've been talking to my niece Mary, you know her husband. You play football with him.”

“D'you mean Sam?”

“Yes. I asked Mary if they could me'be give your lass a job on their farm. And she says she'll start working on her brother for you. It's her brother Bob who runs the farm now, since her dad had a funny turn.”

“So what kind of work would my Shirley be able to do on the farm?”

“There's a farm shop, but that's already got a woman working full time. So Mary thinks she might be able to persuade her brother to take on your lass assisting her at busy times, and at other times, collecting eggs, and bagging up potatoes and veg.”

“But the children, she can't leave them alone.”

“No problem. The hours can be worked out to fit in with her taking them off to school, and then after school, letting your kids play with Mary's whilst your lass helps with the evening rush; it always gets busy around four to five in the afternoon. And me'be they might want her on a Saturday morning. So again, the kids can play with Mary's.”

“You've got it all worked out.”

“Not really. Well not finalized. But with Mary on your side, I'm sure she'll twist her brother around her little finger. Women have a knack for getting things they want.”

“So you think this job might pay enough for me to go back to my old shift.”

“I told you. Mary is on your side. She knows how hard it’s been for your lass; and she feels for her.”

“You haven't told her about what happened?”

“Of course not. That's a sealed-up secret. But when I put the idea of a job to her, it was her who said it must be hard for your lass, going weeks on end without a man in her bed. So you can take it from that, that she knows the score.”

It suddenly hit me just how much this man had put himself out, to help two almost strangers. And I was now beginning to see him in a new light. “I don't know what to say. Does Shirley know about this job?”

“No, I only talked that through with Mary last night.”

“D'you mind if I run over home now and tell her?”

“Well if I was you, I'd wait until we've at least got the nod to say Bob's on board.”

“Oh, ok.”

“Don't look so down, I'm sure it will come good. Now, can I ask you something?”

“Go on.”

“It's delicate.”

“I don't know what you mean. In what way delicate?”

“Well I know how hard it hit you when you realised, that what I'd told you about your wife was true. But you weren't being genuine. Were you?”

“What d'you mean.”

“Sam told Bob what you told him. And then Bob told me. You're quite liking the freedom you're getting on these trips away from home.”

I knew I'd let on to Sam about the landlady, you know, changing room bragging after the match. But I didn't want to admit to anything like that here. “It's been an experience, I'll admit that. But I only do it for the money.”

“And the fanny-ann.”

“Fanny-ann?”

“Skirt, snatch, cunt, landladies’, or barmaids; whatever you like to call it. You threw your hands up in disgust when I suggested your lass had succumbed. But you've been bragging to all and sundry about your own exploits.”

“Now hold on there. You're not thinking of telling my Shirley about some rumour you've heard?”

“Its more than a rumour, and you know it. But no. I wouldn't disillusion the lass. She thinks the sun shines out of your arse. But from you, I want to see that you understand the sheer torment you've been subjecting her to.”

“What torment?”

“The torment her fanny-ann has been giving her. You were quick enough to sate your own cravings. If you really loved her as much as you pretend, you'd worry more about her happiness than your own pride. She's showed a damn site more restraint than you. And in the end, when things got too much for her to handle, it wasn't just her craving for sex that broke her. She'd not have broke with just that one burden. But combined with money worries, responsibility for the kids and knowing she owed gratitude, the lack of sex was the straw that broke the camels back. But are you man enough to go over to your lass, and tell her you'll understand if she needs to relieve that burden?”

"What d'you mean, relieve that burden?"

"If she was to have someone who could see to her needs whilst you're away from home, then she'd be all the better off for it."

“Are you suggesting that I should tell her it's ok to go and get herself fucked whenever she feels a craving for it?”

“Well in truth, that's what you're doing. But no. What I'm saying is, she's burdened with guilt for doing what anyone would have done under the circumstances. Tell her you understand her needs, and it's not something she needs your forgiveness for, but her right during this time when she's shouldering the household on her own.”

“Are you saying I should tell her she's got the right to have sex with anyone, whenever I'm away from home?”

“You do.”

“I'm a man. Men have always done it. It's in our nature.”

“Hog-wash. You don't believe that any more than I do. What you mean is it’s easier for you to do it without her knowing. And I'll agree with you on that, what she doesn't know won't hurt her.”

“See. You agree with me. If she doesn't know it does no harm.”

“So when you first got home, did your wife looked harmed?”

“I don't get you. You're not saying you'd already told her about me?”

“No not you. But the sex she had. That did her no harm, and you'd not have known anything was wrong if it had not been for the car. And neither has it harmed you?”

“Not as such. But if the word got around, I'd be a laughing stock.”

“Ah, now we're getting down to it. It's back to your pride. So look at Bill over there working diligently on your mower. He's as happy as a sand-boy. And he always will be so long as he doesn't have to interact with other people. And with him being a recluse, and not visiting pubs and the like, you can be sure that what took place with your wife, will be kept a secret. So tell me now, what harm did it do you?”

“When you put it like that, none I guess. But that's not the same as what you said earlier. Telling her she's got the right to have sex with anyone, whenever she needs it.”

“Needs it. That's the key lad. The need. Not the want, nor the whim or fancy. But need. And not with anyone. Look at him again.” He was pointing to his brother Bill. “What the bloody hell are you worried about. It not like she's gonna fall madly in love with him and not want you once you're back home and ready to do your duty. But if he can sate her need. Surely it'll not only help her function properly at all the other jobs she's got to deal with. But having that need filled by someone you can be sure of, it makes sure she'll not go further afield for comfort. And when you get back and take over the reigns, she'll be as responsive as ever she was. Can't you see the sense in that?”

“I guess. But you said it only happened with him because she was in a state mentally. Surely she'd not go with him by choice?”

“So tell her. You understand her need, but you don't want any gossip. Tell her she has your blessing so long as it’s with someone you can trust.”

“But if this job offer is real, she won't need your Bill.”

“The job still has to be sorted. And I'm guessing you'll still have to work away from home for the next three weeks.”

“I guess you're right. But not just this first three week shift, but probably even the one after that. Once I tell them I want to go back to normal shifts, they'll have to reorganise the shift patterns again, that'll take them a while."

“So that's it. It won't be instant, so it makes sense to help her through that time. It'll only be a temporary arrangement. And once you're back to working normal, she'll not need Bill's help.”

“Maybe it would work. I'm guessing Bill is up for it?”

“What do you think?”

“So I go over there and tell her that I'm ok with her getting fucked. So long as it's by Bill?

“Tell her you've thought about the pressures you'd left her to deal with, and now you understand why she did what she did. And being as you don't want her to have to get to that point again, you think it would be a good idea to go see Bill once a week. Maybe you could suggest the kids repeat their sleepover at the farm. So every Friday, she can then come to see Bill and get her relief.”

“So not wait until she's really desperate?”

“No. That would be silly. If she's desperate, who knows who might trigger her, or where she might be. Safer to vent off the pressure early before the boiler gets to bursting pressure. Once a week is not really enough, but it should keep her cravings under control.”

“I guess it makes sense. But are you sure Bill won't go bragging about it?”

“I told you, Bill isn't that sort. So are you ok with this, or would it be easier if I come with you, to help in the explaining?”

“No. I've got it covered. And this job offer, it's a genuine one?”

“Of course it is. I wouldn't have mentioned it if it wasn't. But until we get word that Bob's agreed, I'd not mention anything at work; or to your lass.”

“Ok.”

“Ok, I'll wait to hear from you, let me know today if you can.”

Shirley.

I saw Trevor and James talking in the garden, and then after a while, James went back to his garage and following Trevor, took our mower over to their house. Then a few minutes later he returned with what I assumed was their mower. The lawns were soon done and James returned their mower. But he obviously didn't just drop it off and leave, as it was some thirty minutes later before he returned; without his mower.

When he opened the door, he said, “I think I've got some good news for you.”

“It's about time we had some, go on tell me.”

He went on to tell me, “Trevor has been talking with Sam's wife. And she's gonna try to convince her brother to sort out a job for you.”

“What kind of job?”

He explained it exactly as Trevor had explained it to him, and like when he'd questioned Trevor about various aspects, as I questioned him, he came up with workable solutions. And not just about the farm job, but we also talked through the prospect of James being able to return to normal shift patterns at some time in the near future. 

So then feeling more than just happy with this news, the horrible revelations of the last couple of days, slipped from my conscious mind. 

And it was whilst I was in this euphoric frame of mind, that James then began to explain, “I've thought through the situation I've left you in whilst I've been working away from home, and now I think I understand the sexual frustration that my being away has caused you. And I now realise just how cruel that was of me. And that that whole episode with Bill, that was inevitable. Even if it hadn't happened with Bill, it would have happened with someone else. If not then in those circumstances, but eventually. It's a credit to your stamina that you held out for as long as you did.”

I was amazed, and I can't for one minute say I agreed with his reasoning or his assumptions. But as his current attitude lightened the burden of my guilt, I was happy to feign agreement.

And then as he expanded on his assumptions, he said, “I was wondering if you'd maybe cope better, if your hormones were more in balance?”

“In what way?”

“Sexually. Tell me. Be honest. Has this week been less stressful for you? You know, since Bill did that. I mean have you felt more contented since he satisfied that craving?”

Well as I've already admitted, it had given me an unexplainable feeling of wellbeing. But, of course, the other problems of guilt, etc. that had come from that act, had overshadowed all the good feelings. But how do you answer such a question when asked by your husband? “D'you want the real truth?”

“Of course I do.”

“Ok. If I could turn the clock back, I'd make sure it never got chance to happen.”

“I see. Well no, I don't see. Are you saying that you weren't sexually frustrated, and that it didn't ease anything; sexually?”

I'd hoped my last answer would have satisfied him, I didn't want to go into this kind of detail. But it was obvious now that I'd have to elaborate further. “It has been a long while, since we made love.”

“I know and I'm sorry.”

“No. Let me finish. I'm not blaming you. I was just meaning that with it being so long, yes, I must have been on a knife edge. But it wasn't something I was consciously aware of. But I guess once tapped into, it just came to the surface, and took over. And on one level, I'll admit, it did give me a kind of glow. But consciously, it was hell; a nightmare to end all nightmares. The guilt is something I'll never get over.” And then from nowhere came floods of tears. I'd been rational up until I'd finished speaking. But now I just lost it completely.

He held me without words, and let me get it out of my system.

Some fifteen or so minutes later, when I'd got no more tears to cry, he said, “Cup of tea?”

“No.” Then I let out a nervous half laugh. “Ha. Aren't we silly? Our world collapses around us, and we think a cup of tea will make it all better.”

“Our world hasn't collapsed. In fact now I'm in possession of all the facts, I think we can make our world a happier place than its been for a very long while.”

“I don't understand.”

“But like I told you, I do. And understanding why it happened, and knowing how that helped you in your time of need. We can plan for the future, and prevent you from ever being put into that kind of situation again.”

Now the only way I could see that I'd escape being in that situation again, was, “We're gonna move house?”

“No, silly.”

“Then how can I avoid seeing Trevor and Bill again?”

“That's it, you don't. Your problems stem from our being apart. Or to put it bluntly, a lack of sex.”

“No, not...”

“Hold up, let me finish. It was my fault as much as yours. But you said it yourself. When Bill had sex with you, it gave you a glow.”

“But...”

“No, wait. You have to be honest with yourself. It did give you a glow. And it did ease that frustration; even if you say you weren't aware it was there. And answer me honestly, if it hadn't have been for the guilt you felt when you realised you'd cheated on our marriage, that glow would have been brighter and lasted longer. Wouldn't it?”

“But that's the nub of it. We made vows in church. And I broke mine.”

“Yes. And has the world stopped?”

“Mine has.”

“What? Even now? Still? Even though you know I understand. And I promise it won't affect the way I feel about you?”

“Is that true? You really do forgive me?”

“No. I told you. There is nothing to forgive. You went with Bill. So what? It relieved something that I should have taken care of myself. But it didn't do you any harm. It gave you a glow.”

I threw my arms around his neck and we kissed so passionately. That kissing went on for a while, and if it had not been for my period, I'm sure we'd have been fucking on the living room floor. But as James felt his sap rising, he said, “I think we'd better cool it a little. Otherwise I'll not be able to control my ardour.”

“D'you really mean things are back to where they were before?”

“Not back. We've moved forwards. I'm going to make sure you're ok from now on.”

“You mean, when that job on the farm comes through?”

“Well yes, when that's sorted and they rearrange the shifts at work. But that's a few weeks away. I mean from now until then.”

“I don't understand. How can you? Are you gonna see if you can slip a week to bring your time at home out of line with my period?”

“No. That wouldn't be possible. Dates and schedules for maintenance are worked out months in advance.”

“Then I don't understand how.”

“It’s simple really. Bill.”

“No. You can't mean... Tell me you don't.”

“Why not?”

“After what he did to me?”

“But you said you weren't raped. You said you led him on.”

I didn't like where this was going, and as so much had already been revealed, I thought, sod it! Let's get it all out in the open. “Ok, I guess I'd better tell you all. It wasn't like Trevor got me to agree to yesterday.”

I went on to tell him how it really happened, but although what I told him was true, I didn't describe the whole evening. I explained how I'd been excited and what had taken place with Trevor in their hallway, including stopping him mid-tracks, and him going off for a wank. Then the dog barring my exit, and how I'd had to go to Bill in the back room. Then how he started by wanking in front of me, and progressed to the point where he'd ripped my clothes off. 

And I even went on to admit, that once Bill had started in on me, my own libido had taken over, and I'd offered no resistance. And ultimately I was even guilty of egging him on; even if not consciously. And that this cooperation even included letting Trevor have his way with me. But I didn't go into detail and elaborate on the number of times each of them fucked me. 

Well all the while I'd been spilling the beans; James had sat silently catching flies with his open mouth. When I finished, he said, “Why didn't you tell me the minute I got home?”

“I couldn't. I was so ashamed.”

“Ok, get your coat; we're going down the police station.”




Breakdown Cover Ch. 03



I had shopping to do that morning, so at around nine thirty, I went home. And by one in the afternoon I was at the farm to collect the children. But when I got there, and found Mary, she said, "Oh the kids have been fine. No trouble at all. They're all in the play barn, so they'll be safe there until you're ready to go." And with that, she walked me out of the farm shop, I guess, so as to be away from the hearing of others, and then said, "Uncle Trevor has told me to go ahead and work on our Bob. So I'll start on that tonight. I won't push it too hard right off, as he's a typical man. If he thinks I'm interfering or trying to give him advice, he'll dig his heals in, and get bloody minded."

"Oh. Are you saying he might not want any extra help?"

"Don't be silly. What I'm saying is, he doesn't yet know he wants it. But don't worry, a few days, or maybe week, and I'll have him eating out of my hand."

"Well thank you, I guess."

"What's wrong? You look disappointed."

"Well, I thought, the way Trevor was talking, that it was as good as a forgone conclusion."

"It is. Look, I wasn't going to mention this. But I guess we're both adults. I know about..." She stopped, I guess because of my sharp intake of breath and shocked facial expression. And then before I'd said anything, she continued, "It's alright. Don't look so worried. Ok. I'll tell you what. Before I mention anything about you and my uncles, I'll tell you about my sordid secret. Maybe then you won't feel so threatened by the fact I know yours. Do you know my brother Bob?"

"No. I've never met him."

"But I know you've met my uncles?"

I blushed at the inference contained within that question, as I answered, "Yes."

"Well our Bob is in many ways, a younger version of Uncle Bill. Shy when it comes to socializing, and to some this makes him appear simple or backward. But like Bill is into his mechanical things, and is only happy when he's fixing them. Then our Bob spends all his energies in his farmwork. And that doesn't matter whether it's the livestock side, or the arable. He's got an in built talent for both. But being as he devotes so much time to it, it can make him irritable at times."

"But you said he enjoyed it?"

"He does. But unlike Uncle Bill, our Bob wasn't always a recluse. In fact, as a teenager he picked-up with a local barmaid. And being as she educated him in the pleasures of the flesh, it left him with an itch that needs a regular scratching."

"You mean sex?"

"Of course I mean sex. She was far older than Bob, and she'd already got a reputation. But she saw Bob's inheritance prospects as a meal ticket. So she cast her rod, and snagged him; hook line and sinker. But our dad knew what her game was, and he soon queered her pitch. And it was probably that experience that curtailed the development of our Bob's social skills. So anyway, the upshot is, once or twice a month, he starts to get unbearable. Not nasty, but moody. This wouldn't be so bad on its own, but once he gets like that, it affects his sleep, and eating. And then gradually even his abilities to work properly. I won't go into details about how I found a cure for his problem. Well I guess it's not really a cure, just a treatment. But it was many years ago, within a couple of months of dad sending the barmaid packing. And I've been treating him ever since. So now you know my secret, you can see there's no need to feel embarrassed about yours."

"But are you really saying what I think you are?"

"Ok. I'll spell it out in plain language, so there's no confusion. I let our Bob fuck me."

"Oh my, but you're married."

"To Sam, yes. He knows. He didn't, not when we first got married. But it's easier to just be honest with him; you know, once I knew Sam was man enough to accept it."

"He doesn't mind?"

"No. So long as it doesn't affect his rations. But surely your husband, James isn't it? Surely he doesn't mind either. According to Trevor, he was all for them giving your itch a regular scratching?"

I blushed again, "Yes it was James who suggested it. But I think it was Trevor who talked James around to it."

"And are you glad?"

"I don't know. I mean sometimes, I feel like James was in some way betraying me; kind of selling me off to the highest bidder. And other times, well it's difficult to say how I feel. The feelings themselves make me feel so guilty for feeling them. But I can't help enjoying the sex, even though I know I'll feel guilty afterwards."

"But why? Your husband has given you the green light, so you'd be silly to miss out on our family inheritance."

"Inheritance? I'm not in line to inherit anything from your family."

"No, it's the male line in our family who inherits the prise. It's obviously in the family gene pool. But whereas all the males in the family line can show-off with it, it's the females that they go with that reap the benefits." And then she winked at me. And when I still hadn't twigged, she said, "God, you are slow. Or are you trying to say your James is as well endowed as Trevor and Bill?"

As the realisation of what she'd been saying came to me, I blushed, and stuttered out, "N. No. I didn't realise you were talking about the size of their thingies. Are you saying Bob's big as well?"

"Big, it's bloody enormous. And dad is. But with his heart condition, his is only good for pissing through now."

I chuckled, and then asked, "You don't do it with your dad?"

"No. Not for years anyway. But since his turn, someone's got to get him dressed in the morning and bathed and ready for bed at night."

"Are you saying you used to?"

"I think I've confessed enough for one day. But back to you and your situation. Surely last night was the best night's sex you've ever had?"

Again I blushed as I confessed, "I guess so. But it still doesn't feel right, enjoying that kind of thing with someone who isn't my husband."

"I'd not worry about that. He's given you the go ahead, and those guilt pangs will diminish with every occasion. So much so, that by the time you've been at it a couple of months, you'll look back and wonder what all the fuss was about. Believe me, I know from experience. Incest is a far more worrying sin than simply fucking a neighbour."

She was so blasé about the whole thing, but I was still cringing with embarrassment as I asked, "But why are you bringing all this stuff up? What has it got to do with me getting a job?"

"Well first off, I just want you to know how powerful the weapons are that I'm going to be using to fight your cause."

"Oh God! You mean you'll have to offer yourself for sex with your brother Bob?"

"Well yes. But as I've already said, I do that on a fairly regular basis anyway. No, it's more that during the sex, he's obviously more pliable. It's amazing what it's possible to get him to agree to in the last minute before he shoots his cum. You've seen my Range Rover." And with that she winked.

"Oh my. You didn't. Did you?"

"Well a girl has to have some perks. Don't look so shocked."

"No, I'm not. Honest."

"Ok then, what about you?"

"You mean what I did with Trevor and Bill last night?"

"No silly, that's water under the bridge now. I'm asking how you're fixed if it looks like our Bob needs a little more encouragement?"

"Oh God no. You don't mean I might have to let him have me as well?"

"Well the job is to help you out. If I'm putting my two penneth in, it'd be encouraging to know you're willing to back me up?"

"But Trevor never mentioned anything about that kind of thing."

"He maybe thought I'd manage it on my own. Which I likely will. But I don't want to be using up all my credits to get you a job, only to find that you're not willing to dip into your reserves. After all, it's obvious that a fresh fanny will have a greater pulling power than one he's already got regular access to."

"But my husband hasn't agreed to this."

"I see. You need his permission?"

"Not as such. But I feel guilty enough going with Trevor and Bill, and he arranged that."

"Not the first time, he didn't."

"Oh God! I didn't know you knew about that."

"That's by the by. Why not ring him, and ask if this job is worth putting out your fanny?"

"I guess I could. But that would make me feel like I was asking to be allowed to be unfaithful."

"You're fucking the uncles every Friday night. So you're already being unfaithful."

In a dejected tone, I quietly said, "Yes, I suppose I am. But..."

"Never mind your buts; if you're not willing to fuck our Bob, then I can't see why I should bother trying to sort out a job for you."

"Please don't think I'm taking you or your efforts to help me for granted. But it's obvious that you're far more comfortable with this kind of thing than I am."

"What are you inferring? That I'm some kind of slut?"

"No. That's not what I meant. It's just that you seem to take it all in your stride; like it's not a big deal."

"Its not; unless you want to make it one. I'm assuming you spread your legs any time your husband wants a fuck?"

I coyly replied, "Well yes."

"And from what Trevor told me, you didn't take much in the way of persuasion before you stopped struggling. And from then on, he said you went at it like a wild cat. So why are you pretending this is such a big deal?"

"I'm not. Not as such. But that first time with your uncles, it'd been so long since James and I had made love. Once they got me aroused, I just couldn't help myself. And it seems that since then it's just one thing after another. I'm frightened it's getting out of control."

"Well I've made my position clear. If you're not prepared to put yourself out, then I think you can forget any job here."

"If I say I'll let him, will it be just the once? You know; a kind of a bribe to get the job? Or will he expect me to let him have me whenever he wants to?"

"Does your husband have you whenever he gets the urge?"

"I see. That was what I was afraid of."

"Afraid! Of a man? You've got to be kidding me. No matter how big his cock is, there's not been a man born that can out fuck a woman. He'll be fucked out and on his knees and you'll not even have broken into a sweat."

"No. I didn't mean afraid in that sense. I just meant it was like I just said; it's all building up so quickly and I feel like I'm losing control."

"Ok, it's your life. But I thought this job was to help you gain control and get your husband back into your own bed?"

"It is, or do I mean was."

"Only you can answer that question. I guess so long as you're getting a regular Friday nights fucking from my uncles, this job and your husband returning to a normal shift pattern aren't as much of a priority as they were."

"Oh God! That's not the reason. Honest."

"Oh well. I guess it's time you collected your kids."

"No please. I'll do it. If that's the price I'll have to pay, your brother can have me."

"Ok then. But who knows, maybe I'll be able to persuade him without involving you."

"Oh if you could, I'd be so grateful."

"Well we'll have to see. But now I think it's time I got on, and that means we'd better roundup your kids for you."

So as we now walked towards their specially equipped play-barn, I asked, "How long d'you think it'll be before you know whether he'll agree to give me a job?"

"Ah well. There's a compulsory time delay of a week starting tomorrow."

"Delay, why is that?" 

She looked down, and pointing towards her crotch area, said, "The monthly curse."

I blushed as I said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I never thought."

"No problem. I'll start dropping hints as soon as I see him. But working on him in earnest will have to wait."

So I collected my children and headed off home. The following Friday the children repeated their sleepover and I repeated mine with Trevor and Bill. And as far as mine went, it was as mind blowing as the previous one. And on the Saturday morning, I was still on a high; proving Mary's prediction about the guilt lessoning with every occurrence.

And at around midday, when I arrived to collect the children, that was her first question, "So, how was it last night?"

And even though we'd talked frankly the week before on the same subject, I still blushed as I replied, "It was good."

"Is that all. To hear Uncle Trevor talk, I'd have expected at least a great, or maybe even a mind blowing."

"Ok. Yes, it was. But I feel so guilty for enjoying it so much."

"Well don't. Oh, and on the job front, I think it looks promising."

"But I thought you said you wouldn't be able to start your persuasion until next week?"

"That's why I say it's looking so promising. All I've done so far is to layout some basic problems that I've suggested could be fixed with another pair of hands working flexible hours. And he's already nibbling at the bait. So when I play my trump card, I'm pretty confident he'll go for it."

"D'you mean without the need for me to get involved?"

"It looks that way. But I'd not count my chickens until they're hatched. Anyway, as I've told Bob we're rushed off our feet, we'd better get your kids rounded up, so I can look busy."

So with little more spoken about that subject, I collected my children and made my way back home. Again, nothing of any consequence happened during the week, until the Friday night sleepover. And that in itself was a replay of the two previous Friday nights. The Saturday midday again saw me arriving at the farm, and being greeted by Mary. But this time it was me who spoke first. I was so eager to know if there was any news on the job front. "Dare I ask?"

"Of course you can ask. But I'm sorry to say, he won't make up his mind until he's talked with the accountant who does the books for the farm. He's always been overcautious that way."

"But you think he might still go for it?"

"Oh I'm sure he will. Tell you what. He's seeing the accountant next Thursday morning. So if it's good news, I'll pop over to your place on Thursday evening. Will your husband be home by then?"

"Yes, he should be back Wednesday afternoon. Why, did you want to see him?"

"Not especially. But it would be nice to see his face when I break the good news."

"Yes, that's providing it is good news."

"Well if it isn't, I'll not be making you a visit; I'll just keep working on Bob, and maybe then have to consider enlisting your help."

"Ah well. Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

So again I collected the children and went home. As usual my period arrived on Tuesday, the day before James arrived back from his three weeks away. His first words were, a very sheepish inquiry, "So how was it? Have you been visiting Trevor and Bill?"

I kissed him, with a very passionate kiss. Then mildly blushing, I said, "Yes. Every Friday. And I've been stopping with them overnight."

"And?"

"And what? D'you mean the job?"

"No. I wasn't referring to the job. But I guess once you've told me how you got on, on you're Friday night visits; it'd be nice to know what progress has been made on the job front."

By now, the children had realised their dad was home, and they were bearing down on us rapidly. So I said, "We can't talk now. Not about this. I'll tell you all, once were on our own."

"Just tell me if it helped?"

"Yes, it helped. Now let's get inside."

James resisted any further questions until we'd packed the children off to bed, and as I sat alongside him on the settee, his arm went around me and he said, "Ok, am I going to get a full blow by blow description? Or just a curt, it helped."

"Neither. I'm definitely not going into detail. But I'll explain what happened and how I felt."

I then went on to tell him about how having sex with Trevor and Bill that first Friday whilst he was away, had sated any underlying cravings. But that for the first few days afterwards, I'd been racked with guilt. He obviously assured me that I had no reason to feel guilty. And I then went on to explain that the following week, the guilty feelings had diminished some what. And that since my visit last Friday, I'd hardly had any negative feelings at all.

"Oh I'm so glad. So can I take it that you'll keep up your Friday nights until I can get my shift pattern changed?"

"I was thinking of keeping it going permanently."

The look on his face was almost cartoon like, as he spluttered out, "B But it was only..." I burst out laughing the instant I'd seen his reaction, and as he realised I'd been joking, he stopped mid-sentence, and then said, "Why you little minx. I've a good mind to put you over my knee and spank your bottom."

"Will you pull my knickers down first?"

"I might just do that."

"You're sounding more like Trevor every day."

"Why? He's never spanked your bare bottom, has he?"

"No. But it was a threat of that sort, which started this whole ball rolling."

"Tell me."

So I related the details of Trevor's threats, regarding settling our debts with money. And surprisingly, talking about it now to James was so easy. So much so, I re-run the whole thing, missing out very little of the detail. Very much as I've done in part one of my story. And it was only when I'd got to the detailed descriptions of that first Friday nights sex, that I once again couldn't bring myself to reveal all.

But as I stopped relating the events, James said, "Those nights with Trevor and Bill are definitely helping; I've never known you talking so openly about things of that sort. And as for you joking about making your weekly visits a permanent feature; you really had me going there."

"Who said I was joking?"

"You were. Weren't you? You laughed about it."

"Maybe I was laughing at the look on your face."

"Ok. So were you joking?"

"I was. But would it worry you if I hadn't been?"

"I'm not sure. But why would you want to keep seeing them when I'm at home?"

"Guilt."

"Guilt? I thought you felt guilty when you did visit them?"

"I did. But I told you. Not so much anymore. And being as we've used them to our ends, shouldn't we feel guilty if we cut off their rations the instant we no longer need their help?"

"I never thought of it like that. I just thought you going with them was killing two birds with one stone. They got to have you, and you got your need satisfied. D'you really think you'll need to keep up your Friday night visit?"

"It wouldn't need to be a Friday night, and maybe not a regular weekly thing. But in fairness to the efforts they've put into helping you out, I think you ought to offer them some reward."

"You're serious. Aren't you?"

The silly thing about this conversation; is that, that first comment I'd made, was simply a joke. And even as I'd then decided to string him along further, it was just to see his reaction. But at some time during my stringing him along, a combination of the butterflies in my tummy and the logic of my false argument, kind of took over. And now he'd asked this question, I had to think carefully before I answered. "Would it be a problem to you if I was?"

"I don't know. Is it really the guilt of using them? Or is it having two strangers making love to you?"

"Well for one, after sleeping over with them at their house on three separate nights, I can't call them strangers. And during those sleepovers, there was no lovemaking. There's was lust, and they fucked me."

"Ok. Being as you're being so forthright about it, I'll call a spade a spade. Are you saying you want to keep seeing them, because you'll miss having two men fucking you?"

"Not as such. The reasons I've given you are valid ones. But if you're asking if I'll miss them if we stop it altogether, then yes."

"I see."

"Are you disappointed in me?"

"Not disappointed. Just surprised. I thought with them being old men, they'd maybe help you when nothing else was available. But I expected that once I got home, you'd be glad to get someone nearer your own age in bed with you."




Breakdown Cover Ch. 03



"You want me to be honest, don't you?"

"Yes, course I do."

"Ok. Yes, when you first meet them, it's obvious they're not young. But when I'm with them in their house, and things are getting steamy, their age doesn't even get a look in. I never think about age."

"I see. But you're not seriously expecting me to go over and offer your services to them?"

"Not on your own, I'd come with you. But I'd like them to think the offer came from you."

"Why?"

"You're my husband. You arranged the Friday nights, and if you make them this offer, it'll show them that you are my master."

"Your master? I've never been your master. I've never treated you that way."

"No. But as you said, they're older than us. And that's the way they think. If they think this is my idea, Trevor will automatically assume he is my master. You have to show you're being magnanimous, but that unless they treat you and your gift with respect, you'll take it off them."

"My God Shirley, you have thought this through. So when do I make this offer?"

"Not until the job is secured and you're no longer working shifts."

"Will your visits be overnight? And how often will you need to go with them?"

"Not overnight, I'll always want to have you inside me when I go to bed. And as for the frequency, maybe two or three times a month. Again, so long as no visit to them means you miss-out. After all, it is yours."

"It? What do you mean by it?"

"You know what I mean. My sex, or any part of my body."

"Is it?"

"You know it is. If you say stop, I'll never go over to their house again."

"I hope we're doing the right thing. I know this is all my doing; setting you up with them. I guess I just didn't think it through properly."

"Don't look so disheartened. It's only sex. It's not a big deal."

"My God! I can't believe the change in you. Just three weeks ago, it was the biggest deal in the world."

"Ah well. I've not only had my eyes opened by two veterans of sex. I've also been educated to the practical realities of the uses it can be put to; by a lady that I hope you'll meet tomorrow night."

"What lady?"

"Mary, from the farm. Sam's wife. Have you met her?"

"No. But I've seen her a couple of times when she's picked Sam up from a match."

"Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"You know, would you go with her?"

"I've never even spoken to the woman."

"That wasn't my question. I'm asking, would you fuck her?"

"I don't understand. What d'you mean?"

"Look, I know I got you turned on a few minutes ago, and that wasn't fair. Not at this time of the month, when all I can offer is to wank, or suck it. But if I can get Mary to fuck you, would you want her?"

"I told you. I've never spoken to her and I've got no kind of crush on her."

"I wasn't suggesting you had. But like you arranged Trevor and Bill to satisfy my needs, surely your needs must want satisfying?"

"I told you, I can wank."

"You'd rather wank, than fuck Mary? I don't believe you."

"I didn't say that."

"So why wank?"

"I still can't see why you think she'd go with me?"

"I can't be sure she will, not yet. But if you fancy having your mate's wife, I think it's the least I can do to ask her."

"So nothings been said? And nothings been arranged?"

"No. I've only just had the idea. It was something you said."

"I've never mentioned her."

"No. But it was her who explained to me, that sex is not only for enjoying, but it can be used as a useful tool. And being as mine is in for it monthly maintenance, and hers has just been overhauled and is ready for action. I'm guessing she'll do me a favour and show you a good time. If you want it, that is?"

"This isn't some trick, to then accuse me of fancying other women?"

"It's an offer pure and simple. Like me getting fucked by Trevor and Bill. But if you don't fancy Mary, just say no."

"Well ok, yes. If you can get her to let me, then why not?"

"Why not indeed. And then I won't feel guilty when we ask Trevor and Bill to keep fucking me. Well I guess its time for bed. And while you think about pulling Mary's knickers down, I'll suck your cock for you. That way, even if she doesn't live up to my expectations, you'll have imagined you've fucked her."

And so that's what we did. The next morning I met Mary at the school gates, and once the children had gone in, and I was able to get her on my own, I tentatively broached the offer I'd made to James the night before. "I've got another favour to ask you."

"Another? I haven't even delivered the last one yet."

"No, well. I mean, maybe if the last one doesn't come through, then you won't be coming to see me tonight, so this one will be a non starter as well."

"Ok, fire away."

"It's delicate, and I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage, or assuming too much from you. If you think I'm being too forward, just tell me. Don't feel obliged to help on account of me and your uncles."

"Stop skirting around the edges, just spit it out. If I think you're being pushy, I'll tell you."

"Oh God, when I dreamed the idea up last night, it all seemed so logical. But I'm not sure I can ask you now."

"Well you've got to ask now; otherwise I'll die of curiosity. So ask even if it's just to save my sanity."

"Ok, here goes. It's my James."

"Yes, I know your husband is called James. What about him?"

"And this week being the week of my period."

"What, and he's got randy hearing you telling how the uncles rooted you?"

"Oh my God! How did you know?"

"Men do. Just thinking of sex. No matter if it's their wife getting raped, or just hearing about a neighbour's affair. So you want me to fuck him when I come around tonight?"

"How would you even guess at that?"

"To be honest, I'd considered offering last Saturday, you know, when I was telling you about coming to see you once our Bob had confirmed the job. But I wasn't too sure how you'd take it; you were a bit uptight about the sex thing if you remember."

"Yes, I know. I guess you were right though. It isn't a big deal, unless you make it into one."

"No. But to hear some women talk, you'd think they kept the crown jewels between their legs. After all, with most men it's just ten to fifteen minutes of grunting and heaving, and then they're happy as Larry for the rest of the week."

"So does that mean you'll do it?"

"On one condition."

"What's that?"

"That you ask me properly."

"Oh I'm sorry. How rude of me. Please Mary, will you go with my husband."

"No."

"Oh!" I was momentarily stunned. "What did I say wrong?"

"That wasn't asking me properly. I didn't need the please Mary bit. I wanted you to tell me what you want me to do in plain English."

"D'you mean say fuck?"

"That's it. Now ask properly."

"Sorry. Please Mary; will you let my husband fuck you? That is, if you come to our house tonight?"

"Let him, I'll fuck his brains out for you. So do you want me to take him out to a quiet country lane, and have him in the back of the Range Rover?"

"Oh God no. Use our bedroom. You might as well be comfortable."

"Has he any particular whims, or just straight missionary sex?"

"Well with me, its always be straight sex. In fact, until I went with Trevor and Bill, that was all I'd ever done."

She smiled, "I'll bet you know a few different positions now?"

I blushed, "Yes. Some I'd never even heard of or imagined were possible."

"That's my uncles for you. And I bet there were no holes left untouched?"

Still blushing, "No. But James doesn't know about that side of things."

"And I won't tell him. Well not about you. I might offer mine to him, but not all men like that kind of thing."

And so with that sorted, and after a little more meaningless chatter, we parted, and I came home. That evening, I was on tenterhooks, wondering whether Mary would arrive, and if I'd get the job on the farm. I guess I was also a little nervous as to how things would go with her and James. After all, my experience with Trevor and Bill had enlightened me, and planted needs I'd not known had existed. Would Mary have treats for James, that might make him want her again?

It was getting on for ten in the evening, when she arrived, and just seeing her pull into my drive lifted my spirits, I'd been beginning to think the job offer had floundered. And as for the offer I'd made to James, I'd explained that I'd asked Mary and she'd accepted. But that it would only happen if she got Bob's agreement on the job front. So now seeing her pull into the drive, I went over to James, and as I kissed him passionately, I then said, "Looks like we're both in luck." 

He'd been sitting in the chair with his back to the window, and so he hadn't seen her arrive, so on me saying that, and then looking over the top of him and through the window, he shot to his feet, saying, "Is she here then?"

And as I could now see her walking towards our front door, I replied, "Yes. And she's smiling. So you make sure she knows you appreciate her generosity."

"Don't you worry, I will."

So after the usual introductions, I asked, "I assume being as you're here, that your Bob has agreed to offer me a job?"

"Yes, and No. That's why I'm so late. A simple farm job with the amount of hours you'll be able to put in, wouldn't have made you the money Trevor says you need to have, to enable James here, to go back to his normal shift." My face obviously dropped, but she carried on with, "No, wait. I haven't finished yet. I've explained to Bob just how much this job will mean to you." And then after glancing towards James to gauge his reaction, she continued, "And I've told him the lengths you're prepared to go to, to secure it." 

I hesitated in replying, on account of James not being privy to this part of her scheme. And it being such a delicate subject to broach and discuss in front of others. 

But James was obviously burning with curiosity, and he asked, "So what lengths are these then?"

Mary looked a little sheepish as she said, "Oops. Sorry. I take it from that, that you've not discussed it with your husband yet?"

Now it was me with a sheepish voice, "No. I was hoping it wouldn't be necessary." And then turning to James, "I assume you've guessed what Mary means by that phrase?"

"I hadn't. But from you're facial expression, do I take it you've agreed to have sex with him?"

Mary butted in, "Now don't go all caveman on her. She's doing no more than you did with my uncles. And in any case, it is hers to dispense with as she pleases."

I could see James was taken aback, and I quickly said, "No please Mary. Look I'm sorry. But would you mind waiting down here a minute, whilst I take James and explain this to him properly?"

Which is what I did, and surprisingly, he didn't take much persuading. In fact, I think he'd already worked out what had taken place. And by the time I'd got him on his own, he'd already come to the same conclusion as me. So after a quick kiss and cuddle to reassure each other of our love, we returned to Mary.

"Well that's it then, I'll take the job. When do you want me to start?"

"So you've sorted out the problem?"

James answered, "There wasn't a problem as such. It was just a shock to the system. Shirley isn't usually so liberal in her attitude to things of that sort." 

As she reached down and slid a bag she'd brought with her, around from the side of her chair to a position by her feet, she said, "Does he know what you've arranged for him?"

I instantly knew what she was referring to, and blushing, I said, "Yes, I've told him that you've agreed to help me out, but that it would only happen if you were already coming over with good news about the job. So I don't think he dare get his hopes up, and now it's on, I don't think the reality has sunk in yet."

Mary instantly followed with, "Well it's real enough. If he wants it, that is?"

James eagerly replied, "Oh yes. I want it"

As she proceeded to take costumes from her bag, she continued, "I've brought three different fancy-dress costumes with me. And being fancy-dress, the emphasis in the cut leans more towards the saucy, than the carbon copy. So James, who do you fancy fucking? I've got a St Trinian's school girl. A naughty night nurse. Or W P C Likes Cock. Or if you just want a simple farmer's daughter, I'll leave my bag here and we can go up with me dressed like I am."

James looked gob smacked, and as he stared in disbelief, I said, "Come on James. Mary's obviously gone to a lot of trouble on your behalf."

She scoffed, "Don't be silly. These are just the first three costumes I dug out of my play box. So if he doesn't want to play, and would prefer to just get down to business, that's fine with me."

James plucked up his courage, and said, "You're enough of a turn-on as you are. But if you'd be happier dressing up, I'm fine with what ever costume you pick."

"Tell you what, we'll go upstairs and discuss it on our own. That way, your wife won't know what kind of kinky fetishes you've got."

And with that she picked up her bag, and with her arm linked through James's, off they went. And being as this is a story about me, and their antics didn't in any way affect my story, I won't include James's description of their sex session. Suffice to say, it was gone midnight when she left, and James looked as happy as I've ever seen him.

So now we move on, I didn't visit their farm this Saturday, as with James being at home, the children didn't have a sleepover. 

So on the Monday James left for work, and another three weeks away from home.

And even with my job offer on the table and my acceptance of it, we thought it wise not to start the ball rolling on the change back to normal shifts, until I'd trialled the job, and made sure it looked like a permanent position.

That morning I met Mary at the school gates, and once the children had gone into school, I followed her back to their farm. Once there, she first introduced me to Mrs Droitwood, a woman in her fifties, the one who looked after the farm shop. And then after just a few minutes of chit-chat, she took me to the tack-room, which was attached to the end of the stables; where we both put on wellies.

The first part of the farmyard proper that she took me to, was the big buildings where the potatoes, carrots and other vegetables were brought in, in bulk, in readiness for bagging into smaller quantities; for sale in the farm shop. She also explained, that when doing that particular task, it was advisable to put on a full one-piece overall. This she said would protect my own clothing from wear and tear, and getting grubby. But she then added, that in the summer months, it was also advisable to remove my own outer clothing (back in the stable tack-room), as the overall on top of everyday clothes would be far too hot. As she explained, you'll only need it if your doing one of the mauling filthy jobs, and when bagging veg, you'll be sweating enough just with the exertion.

Once she'd talked me through the various tasks undertaken in this building, we then went on to the dairy. As we walked towards it, she explained they had two men whose sole task was the dairy herd. And by now, she said, the milking would be done, and also the cleaning down that followed it. But most likely, we'd be in time to see the hand milking.

I'd never realised that any cows were still milked by hand. But she said some cows have problems, infections, or just irritations that made that automatic milking process unsuitable. She said that this hand milking was one of the duties that Bob was hoping I'd be able to help out with.

"Oh my, you're not serious. I've never been nearer to a cow, than standing at a gate to a field and watching them grazing."

"Well if you're scared of getting up close and personal with the beasts, I can't see this job suiting you. Cos from time to time, you'll be expected to not only milk, but also feed young orphans and runts."

"No. I didn't mean I was scared, as such. But it's just I wouldn't have a clue how."

"Well as far as the milking goes, you'll have to keep your wits about you."

"Why are the cows dangerous?"

She let out a little half laugh, "God no. They're just poor women, like us. Being exploited for the fact they've got tits. In fact, even that's like us. No, I was referring to Ned and Harry, the dairymen. They think they're God's gift to women, a couple of real likely lads."

"Oh. Should I be worried then?"

"Not really. But they will try it on." Then when she saw my look, "Don't look so scared, I'm sure you can handle them."

I nervously asked, "So they're not part of this arrangement with your brother? I mean I won't be expected to put up with any unwanted advances from them?"

"God no. Any malarkey, you mark their cards. And if that doesn't sort them, then tell Bob; he'll sort them good and proper. Anyway, this is the milking parlour, so you'll soon see what you're up against." Then as we went inside she pointed across to where a man was sitting up close to a cow by the far wall. "That's Harry. I guess Ned will be skiving off somewhere. Right, being as you're not used to beasts, first simple rule is don't spook them. It's silly really, they're used to the clatter and noise of the parlour, but if we were to run over to Harry or just shout from this distance, she'd likely kick the bucket from under her or even trample poor Harry."

"I thought you said the cows were harmless?"

"Oh they are, it's not their fault if someone spooks them. Don't look so worried." By now we were close enough for her to talk to him. "How is she going Harry?" 

Harry turned and whilst still milking, as if on autopilot, "Ah, Mary lass. I'll bet you wish this was you I was seeing to."

"Now now Harry. Don't go overstepping the mark."

"Oh come on lass. Just because you're showing one of your posh girlfriends around daddy's farm, there's no need to pretend you're not partial to a bit of Harry's tit squeezing."

"I've warned you about this before. Now pack it up or our Bob'll get to hear about it. And just so as you know, this is Shirley, and she's now working here. I was about to leave her with you, so you could show her the ropes. But being as you're in one of your randy moods, I think I'd better wait until I've asked Bob to put you straight."

"Oh come on Mary luv. I was only ribbing you. You know me, I can't help myself."

"That's what I'm worried about, especially when your no-good pal comes back from wherever he's slinked off to."

He now turned completely, and with his back to the cow, he took hold of my hands, "So soft, now that's what little Katie here needs. Not my big rough hands."

I looked at Mary, "Who's Katie?"

"The cow he's milking is Kate Bush; Katie for short."

I was surprised to hear them referring to a cow by name, and I asked, "Do all the cows have names?"

Harry replied before Mary got chance, "Oh yes, all two hundred of them. And this one is our Katie. But right now she's in need of a little gentle handling." He turned again and lifting one of the cow's teats, said, "See." And then showing me his open palm, added, "And this is what I'm using. It's like rubbing her titties with sandpaper. Surely you can see she'd be better off with your soft little hands on her titties?"

"I guess so. But I haven't got a clue how to do it."

Mary said, "If I leave her with you, you'd better make sure you don't take any liberties. Cos as soon as I see Bob, I'll be sending him this way. And Shirley here was his idea. So if you upset her, you might find yourself looking for a new job." Just at that moment, another man appeared, and she continued, "Ah, here's his partner in crime. Ned. Right I'll give you the same warning."

He strode right up to her, and took hold of one of her hands, and then wrapping his other arm around her waist; as if they were about to dance. He said, "Oh Mary luv, don't break my heart this way. Surely we can have one dance before you leave."




Breakdown Cover Ch. 03



She shrugged herself from his hold, and said, "Pack it up." Then turning to me, "If I go now, d'you want to come with me? Or d'you think you can cope with these pair?"

In truth, I didn't feel in any way threatened by anything either of them had said or done, it had all seemed quite like juvenile humour; even though both men had to be in their forties. So I replied, "Well I guess they both know where they stand, and I really would like to show Bob I can be useful."

"Ok. But you two remember, Shirley here is under Bob's wing. So if she gets upset, he'll take it out on you pair."

It was Ned who responded, "Upset? Why on earth would such a little treasure as this get upset? You run along and polish that big flash car of yours, little Shirley is in good hands." And as if to make his point, he stepped up close alongside me, and slipped his arm around my waist. 

I looked up to his face as I took hold of his wrist, and lifted it up off my hip, "You heard Mary. And don't think I wont tell Bob; I'm a married woman."

Mary said, "That's it Shirley. You let them know who is boss. Ok, I'm going, but I'm sending Bob this way as soon as I find him."

As soon as she was out of earshot, but still not yet out of the building, Harry said, "She's really getting too big for her boots that one." And then turning to me, "So lass, d'you mind us calling you lass, or do you want Shirley?"

"Well Shirley is my name. But I guess if you're both too old and you can't remember people's names, then I guess lass will do."

"Oh I see. We've got a cheeky one here. So Shirley, are you gonna have a try at this milking lark?"

"I guess so. But you'll have to show me how. I've never been this close to a cow before. I never realised they were so big."

Ned instantly looked down to his flies, and pretending to zip himself back up, he said, "Oops. Sorry lass, I never realised it had dropped out."

I looked up to him, "Well if it did, it was so small, nobody here noticed it." Then turning to harry, "Ok, show me how to start."

He was by now standing, and he moved the little stool he'd been sitting on, saying, "You move in close. Slowly now, and stroke her flank. That way she'll sense your presence."

As I went to get in close to the cow, Ned stepped back in close to me, and this time, when his arm went around me, he placed it firmly on the outside of my leg, and stroked upwards; taking my skirt up with the movement of his hand. I spun around suddenly, and the cow shifted, shook its head, and with one of his back legs, kicked forwards. 

I snapped at Ned, "Hey pack it in."

And at the very same time, Harry grabbed me with one hand around my back, and the other on my tummy, and heaving me clear of the kicking rear leg, he snapped, "You silly girl. I told you slowly. You're lucky that kick didn't catch you."

It was all over in a split second, but it was enough to put me into a state of fright. Not the being touched by Ned, or being manhandled by Harry. But the cow lashing out so violently. And as Ned had now taken his hand off my hip, he slipped the stool on the ground behind me, and harry eased me back down onto it. Saying, "That was a silly thing to do. I know Ned was a fooling around, but you can't go reacting like that; you have to treat these beasts with respect."

I was still shaking, so I didn't respond immediately. But my thoughts were, never mind your bloody beasts, what about treating me with respect, instead of trying to maul me. And then once I'd recovered enough of my wits, I lashed out with, "Me silly! It's your moronic friend here who you should be calling silly. No, change that. Call him a pervert."

Ned replied with a mocking tone, "Who me? I only followed instructions. I distinctly heard Harry telling me to stroke your flank. He said it would calm you down."

"Ha ha. Very funny, I don't think. D'you realise just how juvenile your antics are. And that last one could have ended up being serious. Why don't you just grow up and act your age for a change."

Harry looked at Ned and said, "Well that's you told. If I was you I'd cool it until she mellows a bit. I think she's maybe a little on edge, being nervous about being so close to our Katie." Then as Ned stepped a couple of paces clear of where I was sitting, "Ok Shirley luv, get yourself up, and we'll try that again."

So this time, when I approached the cow and gently placed my open palm on her side, all she did, was to turn her head sideways. I guess to see who or what was touching her.

Harry said, "That's the way. Now lower yourself down, sliding the stool under you as you go." I did as instructed, but with me being so low down, and the cow being so big; I was momentarily terrified. Harry must have sensed my fear, as he said, "You're doing fine. There's nothing to be nervous about. Now gently ease yourself nearer, spreading your knees around the bucket as you go, so you can reach right under her udder to the titties on the other side."

This was one of those tasks, that once mastered, is done without having to think about it; like walking. But attempting it this first time, with the fear of spooking a cow that was towering high above me, it took all my resolve to master. And when during my manoeuvre, Harry said quietly, "Careful of the bucket. If you tip that you'll spook her." Instead of thinking he's only trying to get me to spread my legs open wider, I instantly complied. And I didn't even smell a rat, when, with his mouth almost touching my ear, he whispered, "Almost there lass. As we take your weight, you hold onto the stool and make sure it goes under with you."

And at that, a hand slipped under each armpit, and I'm guessing it was their knees they were using on my lower back, to push me under. But as I concentrated on making sure the stool came under with me, I felt their free hands hooking around my knees. So as I went in, under the cow, they eased my legs wide open; almost to a full splits.

I guess it was this last part, that raised the level of sexual threat to the point where it balanced out the fear of the cow itself. And at that point, it appeared on the radar of my conscious thought process. But still conscious of the potential threat if the cow was spooked, I dare not react in a violent manner. So as their hands started a steady stroking motion and began to edge their way towards my crotch, I just calmly said, "You'd better stop that now."

It was Ned who replied, "Just pay us no mind, you reach under their and take a hold of her titties."

"I'm not going to pay you no mind. I told you both at the off, I'm a married woman. If you don't stop now, I'll tell Bob."

Now it was Harry who spoke, "Don't be like that, we'll not hurt you. But as this is your first day, you've got to have your initiation."

"What are you talking about? What initiation?"

"Oh I see. Is this the first time you've worked with men?"

"No. There were men working at my last job in the library."

"Ah well, that's as near to an office job as they come. Have you never done manual work before?"

"There was lifting piles of heavy books and lots of other work. I got involved with all kinds of tasks during the five years I worked there."

"Maybe. But it's not the same as being part of a workforce. It doesn't matter if you're a young lad starting an apprenticeship, or a woman in any age group. Everyone in those two groups has to go through some kind of humiliation the first day on a new job. Young lads to knock the cockiness out of them. But women in the workplace are the worst. Unless you know you can trust them, they're a liability. With some, you've not hardly got to look at them before they're accusing you of all sorts. And one man on his own doesn't stand a chance when they put on the floods of tears. So just to be sure you're on our side, we have to test you; while there's two of us, and only one of you. That way, if you're a snitch, it is the word of one newcomer, against the word of two trusted employees. It's a long established ritual, if you fight it, you'll be treated as an outsider; not part of our gang. After all, it's nothing to worry about; it's only a little feel we're after. Now you do as Ned says. Take hold of a couple of titties and see if you can squeeze some milk out. The sooner you get her udder emptied, the sooner you'll get out from under her."

By now, Ned's finger tips were stroking on the outside of the gusset of my knickers, and had it not been for the fear of the cow's reaction, I'd have freaked out. Physically and verbally. But as it was, I was pinned under the cow, and Harry's fingers had now joined Ned's. I reached down, and with my hands gripping their wrists, I attempted to pull their hands away. But unlike earlier when I'd gripped Ned's wrist, and pulled his hand off my waist, this time, they were serious about what they were doing. And my strength was no match for theirs.

So again I tried pleading, "Please, you've had your feel. I promise I won't tell anyone."

Harry said, "Now that's what we wanted to hear. Now you're being a sensible little girl. See, I told you we weren't going to hurt you." 

My heart leapt, I'd feared they wouldn't listen to reason. But then after a few moments, when neither of them had withdrawn their fingers, my elation just deflated. I cautiously attempted to reason again, "Aren't you going to stop now?"

Harry said, "Of course we will. But first, you've got to show us that you're one of us. We need to know that you're not just going to go running off to Bob telling tales the minute we let you go."

"I won't. I've promised."

"It's not promises we want, we need proof."

"How can I prove it?"

"Well first, take your hands off our wrists and tell us we can each take turns feeling you. That way, you'll have given us permission, so later on, you can't accuse us."

I released their wrists, and then said, "Ok. You can take turns. But only a minute each."

I'd hardly finished speaking before Ned's fingers withdrew, and I then prepared myself for Harry to start working on my fanny in earnest; but still from outside my knickers. And although this was bad enough, especially as they'd already started an arousal. My biggest fear at this stage was timing their allotted minute. That was until I felt Harry's finger hooking into the side of my gusset, and pulling. It was a split second later, that I felt Ned's fingers gliding in my wet valley, and then slipping effortlessly up into my fanny.

My instant reaction was to fight, but as they were both restraining me, all I succeeded in doing was to agitate Katie.

And as she shuffled a half step backwards, Harry quietly said, "Steady old girl. Think on lass. You don't want Katie to get riled. Now just relax and Ned'll soon have your juices a flowing." I can't say I relaxed, but the fear of what the cow might do, did quell any resistance. And as I feared, even without me having anything to time him with, Ned didn't stop after a minute.

I can't say how long he'd been vigorously working his fingers inside my fanny, but knowing I would soon be totally theirs to do as they wanted with; I made one last verbal plea. "Please Harry; it must be your turn now."

"I think she's right. Come on Ned, fairs fair."

"Ok, I think she's about broken in."

Then as his fingers pulled out, and Harry began to lift his side of the gusset to gain entry, I said, "Isn't there anywhere else you can take me. Somewhere more comfortable." In the back of my mind, I knew the only chance I had of getting out of this, was to get away from that cow, before I lost my will to attempt an escape. And even then, I knew my chances were pretty slim.

Then Harry asked, "If we take you to the barn, will you fuck?"

"Take me there, then we'll see."

It only took seconds to ease me out from under the cow, and then I was being almost carried between them, as they strode off across the open yard to the barn. Now the fresh air, and the respite from the stimulation, gradually began to re-awaken my consciousness. And with this re-awakening, my will to resist returned. But not wanting to alert them until I was psyched-up and ready, I played along as a helpless case until we reached the barn. 

Then as Ned released his hold on me and went to open the door, I went ballistic. Screaming kicking and lashing out with all the strength I could muster. I knew I'd take them by surprise, and then a split second later, I was free. That is to say, free of the grip of either of them. Ned was still holding onto the barn door he'd already begun to open, and Harry just stood there looking at me, with a big beaming smile on his face.

I now stopped screaming, but only momentarily, to say to Harry, "What the hell do you think is so funny?"

"Nothing Shirley luv. It's just nice to get a lass with a bit of spunk for a change."

By now, Ned had pulled one side of the big barn doors open, and he quipped, "She'll have plenty of that soon enough. Now get her inside."

And as I resumed my scream, interspersed with cries of, "RAPE! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME." 

Harry rushed towards me, lowering his head as he came. And before I knew what was happening, my tummy is up on his shoulder, with my legs hanging down in front of him, and the top half of my body behind him looking at the ground. It all happened in the blink of an eye, and the next second the door had been close, and Harry was tossing me back off his shoulder, and I landed on my back in a big pile of hay. 

The shoulder charge into my tummy had taken the wind from my sails, and I'd stopped screaming. But as I sat myself back up, and they stood there glaring down at me, I resumed giving it all the voice I could muster. But far from being concerned, or even trying to stop me, they just stood and watched. And as they could see I was beginning to lag, Harry's grin re-appeared. This only spurred me on to a second wind; but it was useless, and before much longer I'd stopped altogether. 

Then as I stopped, Harry said, "Is that it? Can we talk now?"

"I'm not interested in talking, I want to go and find Mary."

"Look lass, if Mary had wanted to help you, she'd have come running when you were kicking up blue murder out there. Haven't you got it yet?"

"Got what?"

"Mary, and your hero Bob, they are the bosses. You're one of us, a worker. They stick together, and we have to do the same."

"What are you on about? Mary is my friend."

"Wake up lass. We know why you got your job. You're Bob's new play thing. Don't look at me like that. You're not his first."

Then Ned chipped in, "And if she isn't a site more cooperative with him, then she'll not last the day out."

"Oh I think the lass knows the score as far as he's concerned. It's just that she's not yet worked out the pecking order in the lower ranks. You do realise that a year or two down the line, and he'll get bored with you. And at that point, when he gets himself a fresh fanny, he'll not give you so much as the drippings off his nose. So if you've got anything about you, you'll make yourself useful around here. And we're the ones who can help you with that. So wake up to whose side you're on. They might be the bosses, but we're the ones you're gonna be working with day in day out. We can either make your life easy or difficult. We workers cover for each other, and that's how we beat the bosses. But heck, that's all by the by. Why are we discussing this now, you've agreed to come to the barn for a fuck. Haven't you?"

"I might have said something like that. But that was only to get from under that cow. I was frightened."

"So now there's no cow, are you saying we don't get to fuck you?"

"Of course you don't. You didn't think I was just going to lie back and say come and help yourselves?"

"No lass we didn't. Like I told you, this is just your initiation. All we were going to do was just have that bit of a feel. "

"Well you're not getting that either."

Ned said with a smile, "I've already had mine, and right good it was too."

Harry said, "He's right, and I was about to have mine. So how about we get comfortable, and you let me finish what I started?"

"No way. I'm going to find Mary."

"And how are you going to get past us to get out of the barn?"

"Look please. You both took advantage of me being scared out of my wits under that cow. Can't you just be satisfied with what you've had already?"

"And if we do, then what?"

"I guess you should show me how to milk that bloody cow. But properly this time."

"And there'll be no telling tales from you?"

"No. Not if you behave yourselves from now on."

"Are you real?"

"What d'you mean?"

"We're men, you're a woman. It's only natural that we'd want to fuck you. So if by behave yourselves, you mean we can't attempt to get your knickers down, then we'd be lying if we agreed to that."

"But surely you can control your natural urges; I told you, I'm married."

"You can't control yours."

"What d'you mean?"

"Back there whilst Ned was working on your fanny, you were well under. And if we'd not have been gentlemen, we could have had you back there in the dairy. The only reason you're kicking up now is that we let your arousal come down. And we did that, so you'd not feel tricked."

"That's not true. You only brought me here because you thought I'd agreed to let you have me."

"I won't argue. Cos I know that you know just how far gone you were. And you know I'm telling it like it is. Anyway, I don't know why you're making such a fuss about us wanting to fuck you; you've only got this job because you agreed to do the same with Bob."

"I don't know why you think that?"

"We don't just think, we know."

Then Ned added, "He told us."

"He wouldn't."

Ned replied, "He did. And he warned us off. He wants your fanny all to himself."

"Well then. That's your answer. If he says I'm off limits, them you'd better listen to him. As you said, he's the boss."

It was Harry who responded, "Yes, and that's another reason for you to side with us."

"Why?"

"To spite him. If he thinks he's the only one fucking you, but we're banging away at it whenever he's not around, then can't you see it's us worker sticking together and getting one over on him?"

"No I can't. You're just angling for your own ends."

I'd not even finished speaking, when light flooded in, and as I turned, there was Bob. Not that I knew it was him, I just could tell it was another man.

But as he strode in and spoke, it was obvious who it was. "Ah, I thought I'd find you in here." Then as he got up close, and looking at me, "Are you alright? They haven't been giving you any trouble, have they?"

I looked into the eyes of Ned and Harry in turn, then looking back at Bob, "Nothing I can't handle."

And Harry added, "It was just a little game of kiss and chase. No harm done, Eh Shirley?"

Bob said, "So I can take it all the hand milking is completed?"

Harry replied, "Well not quite. We've still got a few to do."

"So how come you're playing silly buggers, when you haven't even finished your mornings work. It'd be bad enough larking around on my time, but those beasts are in need of milking. And the longer you leave them, the more distress you're causing them. I thought you two reckoned to be experienced dairy men. Now get back to work." And then as they both slinked off without reply, he turned to me, "So Shirley. Our Mary wasn't exaggerating, you are a choice piece." I didn't really like being referred to as if I was a piece of meat; even though I guess it was supposed to be a kind of compliment. And I didn't reply, I just blushed. He continued, "So how would you like to come and see our horse box?"

What a peculiar question. "Err, yes, if you want me to."

So next minute, we're walking across the yard towards a big lorry. He's got one arm around my back, and he's not trying to hide the fact he's caressing the cheeks of my bottom as we walk.




Breakdown Cover



Anyway. When I eventually stopped. Maybe after as long as a minute. Trevor, who looked stunned; said, "Well that's me paid in full. Now all you've got to do is think of what our Bill would like."

I was now feeling somewhat of a fool. But trying to make light of what I'd just done and turn it into a joke, I said, "Well if simple kiss would satisfy him as well, then so long as neither of you go telling tales. I think I'll be getting off lightly."

"I'm sure he'd love it, but he's so shy in front of you young girls, he'd run a mile first."

"Well yes. Now you mention it, he hasn't said a word to me face to face. I never realised. Doesn't he like women?"

"You are joking. It's the opposite. He's got tapes of all the old Benny Hill shows, and he spends hours just watching them over and over. But face to face, I think it's too much for him to handle. Anyway, I'd better get back. See you tomorrow."

So with just a few simple words of goodbye, he was gone and I went to bed. 

The next day, a lady who I'd seen before at the school gates, but never actually talked to, arrived in her spanking new top of the range, Range Rover (I'm guess that's why I'd never spoken to her. Her being one of the posh moms). She introduced herself as Mrs Mary Randle, telling me to call her Mary. She was obviously the wife of Trevor and Bill's cousin. But she was as nice as pie, and obviously being a farmer's wife, her attitude was normal and very down to earth. So the kids went off with her, and I then began to rack my brain as to how I could repay the two brothers.

I mean, the suggestion I'd made yesterday about kissing Bill, had just been a joke. And the kisses I'd stupidly given Trevor, in no way amounted to a payment in kind for the amount of work they were doing to help me out. 

Well an hours thinking later, and all I could think of was baking them a pie. I had apples from my own garden, and I knew the blackberry bushes down the back lane were covered. And making the pastry topping wouldn't incur much expense. So after an hour in the back lane, I returned home with a big bowl of blackberries, and began my baking. And at around half past two in the afternoon, as I saw them pulling into their drive, I slipped a clean tea towel over the dish and pie, and made my way across to meet them as they both approached their front door.

Trevor turned and said, "What have you got there?"

"Oh it's nothing really. I just thought you'd maybe like an apple and blackberry pie." And as I said that, I slipped the tea towel off it.

Their eyes lit up, and Trevor said, "You needn't have gone to all that trouble lass."

"Well its nothing compared with what you're doing for me."

As he took the dish from my hand, he lent forwards, and gave me a simple peck on the cheek. "We'll really enjoy tucking into that later after a bite of tea. Tell you what. Why don't you come and join us?"

"Well no thanks. I'd like to, but the children. They only like their normal fish fingers and chicken nibbles. And besides, they get a little noisy. Maybe another time when I've farmed them out at a birthday party or something."

I hadn't wanted to tell them the real truth, and that was that not only was I scared of their dog, but I just knew my kids would be as well.

"As you like lass." 

So with little more said, I went home to await the kids returning from school and Trevor and Bill set to work on my car. 

When the kids arrived home from school they were full of it. Apparently my Jason was in the same class at school as one of Mary's boys, Charles. And my Emily was in the same class as her youngest boy Edward. And as both pairs had sat together on the journey to school, it had developed into a new friendship on both counts.

So Mary was now asking if I'd allow them both to have a sleep-over at her farm tomorrow night. And as tomorrow was Friday, she said she'd pick them up from school, regardless of my car being fixed or not. The kids were, of course, full of it, and begging me to say yes.

I didn't want them to be away overnight, not least, because I'd be on my own. But I also thought the whole thing was a bit quick. I mean I'd never met the woman before yesterday, and I'd never been to their farm. But she seamed respectable, and was related to Trevor and Bill; whom I did know. So after a lot of badgering, I agreed.

So as you can imagine, both my mind and body were fully occupied sorting out things in preparation for the next day. That was until around half seven (when I put them to bed). 

And then as I sat on my own, and could see the lights still burning in their garage across the road, it reinforced just how inadequate my blackberry and apple pie was as a payment for the hours of work they were both putting into helping me. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't think of anything I could afford that could adequately repay them.

Well by the time the doorbell rang at a couple of minutes before ten, I'd still not thought of anything. So as the bell rang and I jumped up to answer the door, I never even looked at the clock. I just assumed it was ten thirty and Trevor had come to give me a progress report. But as I swung the door open and saw him dangling my keys, and the big beaming smile on his face, my heart leapt with joy.

I almost knocked Trevor over as I bounced forwards to confirm that my car was indeed returned to me. And as I saw it had been, I turned back and repeated the kisses I'd given Trevor the night before. As I dropped back onto my heals, and he handed me my keys, he said, "You know, I could get used to kisses like that every night."

"Oh don't be so silly. You know I'm only showing you how grateful I am. Is it really fixed; can I try it out?"

"Yes to both. But I wouldn't go too far. I'll wait in the doorway here in case your young'uns wake."

"No. I didn't mean I'd drive it anywhere, I just wanted to hear the sound of the engine."

"It'll sound much as it always did, but be my guest."

"No. I'm being silly. If you say it's fixed, I'm sure it runs fine."

"Well it should do. We've given it a service while we were at it. Oil change, oil filter, air filter, new plugs. Oh, and we replaced the top hose; it was buggered and about to split."

"Oh Trevor, I don't know what to say."

"Oh, before I forget. I've rang our Mary and told her you'll not be needing a lift tomorrow morning. But she says she'll still be collecting the young'uns from school and taking them back to her place; that is unless you ring her and tell her different."

"Oh no. I couldn't change that arrangement now; the kids would never forgive me. They're full of talk about tractors and farm animals." At this I walked him along the hall and into our parlour, as I'd done the night before. And then once he was seated in the same chair as last night, I said, "I've got a favour to ask you."

"Fire away then."

"It's connected to repaying you for the work you've done, and my husband's reaction to your approach to the problem. You see he'd be like I was yesterday. He wouldn't like accepting charity."

"It's not bloody charity. I told you..."

"No. Please hear me out. It's just the way we were brought up and what we're used to. But I can see your way is a lot nicer; helping each other as and when people need it. But my husband wouldn't understand. He'd look for an ulterior motive. So what I wanted to ask is, can the work you've done on my car be kept secret? I mean James never looks under my bonnet, so he'll never see what you've done."

"That's not a problem for us. We don't go around bragging and looking for praise. And as for him never looking under your bonnet, not all men are mechanically minded. Just so long as he pops his head under your skirts regularly and keeps your little fanny-ann satisfied, I guess he's fulfilling his marital obligations."

I was about to thank him for his cooperation in keeping my husband in the dark, but his secondary remark about my husband's sexual obligations, completely stunned me into an embarrassed blushing silence.

"My you are a bashful one and no mistake. I was only pulling your leg. One mention of anything to do with sex, and you shrink back into your shell like a little schoolgirl. I guess it's only to be expected with hubby being away from home so much; your fanny-ann must get excited by the merest mention of things of that nature. Still it's not his fault, I'm sure the lad does the best he can to make up in the week he is home."

Through my blushing I managed to say, "Please Trevor, I'd rather you didn't talk about that subject."

"Ok lass; I get the picture. I've set your fanny-ann to throbbing, and you need some privacy to rub one off; well it's time I was getting back anyway."

"Please Trevor, it's not like that, I just don't like that kind of talk. But there is something else I want to ask you before you go. I've been racking my brain all day, but I can't think of anything I can do to repay you both. Have you had any ideas yet?"

"I'd not worry your pretty little head about that. I'm sure something will crop up in the future. And until then, just to know we've helped you out when you needed help is enough reward for us." At this point he got to his feet and began making his way down our hall towards the front door. And then just before he reached it, he stopped and said, "Oh. No. There is maybe one thing you could do; that is if it's not asking too much?"

"Anything. Well almost. You know, within reason."

"The kisses you gave me yesterday, and again when I arrived." I blushed and was about to try to excuse myself. But before I spoke he continued, "I'm sure our Bill would be pleased if you gave him the same. You know, to show him you appreciate his help as well as mine."

"Oh I will. Should I go over now?"

"No lass. For one thing you've got young'uns in bed. And by now, he's probably got a video of Hills Angels playing. And I wouldn't want you to catch him doing his nightly wrist exercises."

It was blatantly obvious he was saying Bill would be at home letching at the TV screen, whilst he wanked himself! I couldn't believe this man could be so nice, caring, and considerate one second. And then in the next breath, come out with comments only fit for a public bar room.

I tried not to react to what he'd said, but as I was at a loss for words and didn't respond immediately, he said, "There you go again; there's no need for blushing lass. It's just a fact of life for us old bachelors. If we lose our wanking hand, it's almost like having your wife run off with the insurance man." And after following that with a self satisfied chuckle, he said. "Ok, I know, you don't like that subject. But back to your car, it should be fine, but any problems, don't hesitate to come and see us. Oh, and the cam belt cost thirty-six pounds something. But there's no hurry for that, drop it off any time you see we're at home. But just make it thirty-five; it's a nice round number."

I'd been stunned into a silence. Part shock at his frankness, and part anger; at him having the gall to talk about such things. And then mid-sentence, he was again showing kindness.

"But you've just told me you've put in new oil and all kinds of other stuff. I must owe you for that as well?"

He stooped down towards me, and said, "Ok. Give me another one of those smackers." And then he closed his eyes and puckered his lips.

My head was spinning, one second I'm ready to ask him to take his foul mouth out of my house. The next I'm feeling I owe him big-time, and a kiss isn't going anywhere near to being adequate. 

But regardless of my misgivings about his choice of subject and the coarseness of his language, I knew I was deeply in his debt. So I put my arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips, and I even let it linger. And as we lingered, his arm went around my back, pulling me tightly to himself as he stood upright. So now my feet are clear of the floor, and for a split second I felt unnerved, thinking he'd miss interpreted the motives behind my kiss. But after no more than a minute of him hugging me closely to himself, he returned me to the floor. And then after letting out an exaggerated gasp of air, said, "Well I can't wait for your car to breakdown again."

I pushed him away with my open hand on his shoulder, as I said, "Get away with you. It was only a kiss. I know I'm still in your debt, and I won't forget it."

So with that I showed him out.

The next morning I got the kids ready for school, and into the car we all got. The first shock was the way it started. It normally wurres over and over before eventually starting with a lumpy vibration that shakes the car; and only gradually does it start to run sweet after about half a minute. But today it sprang into life almost before I'd turned the key, and it just purred sweetly. It also seamed to pull away from junctions and run with less effort than normal. Even little Jason noticed the difference!

So with the kids off to school, I then started to think about what I was going to do this afternoon. But there'd been a marked shift in my mood. Yesterday, I felt indebted and grateful for their help at a time when I'd been in between a rock and a hard place. But they'd gone way beyond that with the work they'd put into my car. They hadn't just repaired it and got it back to how it was before the problem. It was to all intents and purposes, as good as a new one. But even though indebted and grateful, didn't really cover the way I was now feeling, I still hadn't come up with any way I could repay them.

But I knew I still owed them the thirty-five pounds, well maybe a lot more if you included all the other things they'd sorted on the car. But as Trevor had said thirty-five, the last thing I wanted to do was to offend him by offering more. Or even worse, rile his temper and find out his threat of a bare arse spanking was in fact a genuine one.

So later in the afternoon, when I saw they'd arrived home from work, after giving them half an hour to get settled, I made my way across and knocked at the door. As Trevor opened the door I repeated my previous demonstration of gratitude by throwing myself bodily at him, and with my arms reaching up around the back of his neck, I planted a big kiss on his lips. It was only a short one, and as I broke it off, I'd intended to drop to the floor. But as I'd pounced up, he'd wrapped one arm around my back as he'd done last night. 

So as our kiss broke and I said, "Trevor. You're bloody marvellous. And your brother. My car is so different. Its never ran the way it does now. I can't imagine how I'll ever repay you."

"Well maybe we can start like this." And then his lips re-joined mine. And from the off, this kiss on his part, was forceful. Not that I was fighting him. But as his lips pressed into mine, I detected his tongue probing my lips. And his other hand was cupping the back of my head, preventing me from breaking off the embrace. 

I only had a split second to make up my mind. Should I allow such familiarity, or rebuff him. In the event, and bearing in mind my overwhelming feeling of debt, I decided that a wet tongue kiss was indeed a small reward for the trouble they'd gone to on my behalf.

And so as I let his tongue probe into my mouth, I offered my tongue into his. But as our embrace veered from the path of a show of gratitude, onto the path of sexual awakening. I became instantly aware of how steep and slippery that slope is.

I guess our tongue kissing hadn't been going on for a minute, before the hand that had been cupping the back of my head, slipped up inside the back of my skirt, and being so big, cupped both cheeks of my bottom.

As soon as I'd felt the hand going up under my skirt, I'd began to push myself from him. But my back was up against the wall, and he was so strong. In fact, to be fair to him, I'm not sure he was even aware of my feeble efforts. And he was so deeply immersed in the passion of his embrace; I think he was equally unaware of me attempting to break off our kiss.

Meanwhile, the hand under my skirt had forced its way in between the tops of my legs, and fingers were negotiating their way around the side of the gusset of my panties. It was as his fingers slid across the silky wet lips of my pussy, and he opened his eyes, that I think he became aware of the reality of my distress.

It was instantaneous. As his eyes locked onto mine, the dreamy look of rapture disappeared, to be replaced by a look of fright. And as his lips parted from mine, before I even got out a word, he said, "Oh no. No please. I'm sorry."

By now his finger, which had glided along effortlessly on my pussy juices, and penetrated into my pussy passed his second knuckle, was withdrawn along with his whole hand, and he was lowering me to the floor.

As soon as I was standing unaided, he backed two paces away and said, "Please lass. I thought you were. No, of course, you wouldn't. Please, tell me you're alright?"

I was, of course, furious at first. That was when I'd felt the intrusion and not been able to stop it. But his look, and action since opening his eyes had convinced me of his genuine miss interpretation of my signals. And then recapping the signals I'd given him. Maybe what happened was mainly my own fault.

Anyway, I answered, "Of course I'm alright. Just a little shaken to think you'd do such a thing."

"No. I mean, are we alright? You're not gonna tell your husband or report me to the police?"

"No. Of course not. I guess it was just a misunderstanding. I let you kiss me that way as a reward. But I didn't expect you'd take it as a sign I'd go further."

"I'm sorry. But your fanny-ann was so wet, I was sure you were ready to fuck."

"Please Trevor. It's over now. We don't need to talk about such things."

"But it was. I mean I was only going to play with it in my hand. But it was so wet and as my finger touched it, it opened and it slipped up. I guess it's with your husband being away from home so much, it's in need of a bit of attention."

"Trevor! I'm gonna go. I don't like you talking like that." I turned and was about to raise my hand towards the door handle, and a deep throated growl reminded me that as I'd walked in, Satan had sidled up to the front door, and flopped down on the floor. I slowly drew my hand back, then looking at Trevor, said, "Call him away. I want to go home."

By now, Trevor had started to make his way up the stairs. He stopped, turned, and said, "I thought you'd come to tell Bill how grateful you were for his help?"

"That can wait until I see you both outside."

"He's only in the back room. Go on. I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you."

"I'm a bit unnerved. Maybe another time. Just call Satan away from the door. Please."

"You don't mean unnerved. You mean your fanny-ann is throbbing. Don't worry. I know how you feel. While you're telling Bill how grateful you are, I'll be upstairs wanking off this hard you've given me." And with that he turned back and re-started up the stairs.

"Please Trevor."

He turned and paused momentarily, saying, "You go see Bill. I'm sure once you've given him his kiss, he'll call Satan to heal." And with that he turned and disappeared up the stairs. 

I made several more attempts to get my hand to the front door handle, but Satan was having none of it. Then I tried calling Bill, but every time, I'd hear his voice coming from the back room, "I can't come now, you come here."

And as I began my walk along their hall, Satan followed my every footstep; dropping to a sitting position every time I paused. Eventually I was at the open doorway of the back room. And although I could see in and part of the room, wherever Bill was, he wasn't visible from the doorway. I again asked, "Please Bill, will you call Satan in to you, so I can go home."

"Nope."

"Please Bill. He frightens me."




Breakdown Cover



"Trev said you were coming to see me."

"I am. I mean I was. But I'm not feeling well. I need to go home. I'll come back another day."

"You're already here. Come in. I won't bite."

"I told you, I'm not feeling well."

"You ungrateful bitch. You won't even come in and give me a kiss."

I didn't think it was worth trying to persuade him to call Satan off, so reluctantly I stepped into the room, only just inside, but enough to enable me to see around the door. Bill was sprawled out in a lounging stance, in a big armchair, with his legs spread wide, and the biggest cock I'd ever seen erect in his hand. I froze as I saw him, or to be more accurate, when I saw his massive cock. I even took an involuntary step backwards. But the deep throated growl reminded me there was no retreating.

"Come in then. Sit yourself over there." 

The chair Bill was sitting in, was against the far wall way over to the left of me. And against the wall directly to my left, behind the door, was a big sumptuous settee. And it was towards this settee that Bill was nodding his head. And as it meant I'd not really be putting myself anywhere near where he sat holding that menacing looking cock, I slowly shuffled my way across and sat down in the middle of it. And as before, Satan followed me, and he was now lying with his nose inches from my foot.

I attempted to lighten the tension, and ignoring the fact he was sitting there holding his cock, I said, "You did a marvellous job on my car. Its never ran as well as it does now." Then remembering the money I'd brought, I reached in the little pocket on the front of my skirt and pulled it out, saying, "Oh. Here's your thirty-five pounds."

"Put it on the table."

I rose to my feet, and although the table was nearer the door, Satan didn't even stir. So after dropping the money, I contemplated making a break, but as I stood at the table working out my chances, Bill said, "If he needs to stop you, I'll warn you now, his bite hurts."

I turned and as I walked back to re-take my position on the settee, I said, "But I thought Trevor said he was gentle as a lamb?"

"He is if you do as you're told." And then, cock still in hand, he got to his feet, walked to the table and pulled out a dining chair. Then he carried it across to where I sat, and placed it facing me, with just enough room for him to get in between and sit down. So now that monstrous great big cock is standing to attention directly in front of me. "You are going to do as you're told. Aren't you?"

"Look Bill, as much as I appreciate the work you and Trevor did on my car. I'm not going to sit here while you display that thing. Now put it away, and call Satan off so I can go home."

"Unbutton your blouse."

"Don't be so rude. Who d'you think you are?"

Without warning, he grabbed into the neck opening of my blouse, using both hands. And with his first wrench, it tore open every button from the neck to the point where it was tucked into my skirt. And I think even this first pull initiated a rent in the back of the collar. But he wasn't content with just one pull. And his second wrench ripped the blouse all the way down the back, pulling it from out of my skirt, and off my shoulders. Almost as if it were now two separate pieces.

I instantly cupped my hands over my breasts for cover, but before I could summon up any words, he said, "Put your hands by your sides."

He was a man of few words, but the ones he used, he obviously meant. So knowing he had the upper hand, and thinking placation might be my best option, I did as he'd asked. After all, I still had my bra on.

No sooner had I re-positioned my hands, than he barked out, "Brassier."

"Please Bill, no."

This time I was expecting his hands, and I managed to grab his wrists. But I might as well not have bothered. Even with my hands on his wrists, he tore the front of the bra apart, and the clasp at the back gave up in an instant. So now each half of the bra hung over the ripped blouse on either shoulder. I'd re-positioned my hands again, cupping and covering my now naked breasts.

"Hands. Now."

"Look Bill." I didn't pause here, but at this point, I lifted my hands away, uncovering my breasts. "If I sit here like this, and let you, you know. Wank that thing. Then can I go?"

He smiled, and then slowly reached out and took hold of my right wrist. And then almost gently, but firmly, drew it towards his cock. At first I didn't realise the planned destination. But as soon as the penny dropped, I began to resist. But again, resistance was useless. And even pulling as hard as I could, it had no effect on his progress. And then once my hand reached his cock, he used his other hand to manipulate my fingers until they were wrapped around his shaft. But the girth of his cock was so vast; my little fingers couldn't encircle far enough around it to meet my thumb. He eased my hand up and down for maybe half a minute, then he let go with his guiding hands and lay himself back against the chair back.

For maybe a couple of seconds, I continued wanking him, but then a great big beaming self satisfied smile came across his face. I think I'd resigned myself to sitting there with my breasts on show, whilst he wanked. And maybe, just maybe, I might have even completed this wank for him. But something about his smug gloating just got to me.

And so after only a few seconds going solo on his cock, I took my hand away. I didn't attempt to provoke him by covering my breasts back up, but just lay back into the settee in a similar manner to what he was doing.

This time I wasn't prepared; nor was I quick enough. His hands were into the waistband of my skirt, and he'd ripped the plastic belt, and waistband of the skirt almost before I'd realised he'd moved. Yes I do mean ripped the belt; maybe it was only plastic, not real leather. But the wrenching apart of his steely gripping hands was so fierce and powerful the belt buckle tore through the belt itself. The waistband of the skirt instantly gave-up at the side fastening, but then as each hand flew father apart, the seam at the centre of my back took up the strain; and then it split. So the skirt was wrenched from under me in two separate pieces. 

This all happened in the blink of an eye, and also resulted in my bottom being hauled forwards towards the edge of the settee. In fact, I think it was only my feet jamming into the chair he was sitting on, that prevented me from being dragged completely off.

But his rage, for that is what it appeared to be, didn't stop with him just removing my skirt. For once he'd got the two halves dangling in front of me; he then proceeded to tear it into shreds. Almost as if he was making bandage strips out of it; but not tearing it carefully. And then once he'd totally shredded it and strewn the remnants in all directions, his eyes returned to me. 

Now I'd been in a kind of stupor since he'd grabbed my skirt. I'd never expected anything of that sort; in fact, I'd never in my life seen violence and such awesome power. So still in a state of disbelief and I have to say awe, I'd froze to the spot; hands either side of me palms face down on the seat of the settee, knees spread wide to miss colliding with his chair, feet wedged at the base of his chair legs, and bottom perched at the very front edge of the settee seat base.

So now as his eyes returned to me, I felt them burning their way through the flimsy exposed gusset of my panties; the only garment I still wore that was intact and giving any measure of cover. I so wanted to lift my hands across and cover my exposed crotch, but I instinctively knew this wouldn't help. So I lay still and let him gloat at how easily he'd overpowered me, and achieved his goal.

But after maybe ten or twenty seconds of him sitting motionless, I sensed that he was waiting for me. And what he must be waiting for me to do, I assumed was to re-start the wanking I'd given up on. So feeling I had no other options open to me, I said, "D'you want me to wank it for you?"

"Too late."

"No. Please. I'll do it."

As I lifted my hands and was about to reach for his cock, both his big hands reached to just above my right hip, slipped into the waist of my panties, and as my hands gripped each of his wrists to stop him, they just pulled the panties apart. And then with my hands still gripping his wrists, he went to my left hip and repeated the action, ripping the other side apart. And after using one hand to peel my hands from his wrists, with his other hand he took extreme pleasure in slowly drawing my panties from under my bottom, and then discarding them to one side.

So now my pussy is naked to his glare, and even though I know he'll easily peel my hands back out of his way, I can't stop myself from plunging them both into a covering position over my pussy. Even as I do it, I regret my stupidity. It was obviously going to annoy him.

And then he took hold of his cock, and began to slowly wank it. I guess, not that I'd noticed it up until this point; his erection had slightly begun to wilt. So now as he looked my body up and down and massaged his shaft it soon re-stiffened. And for a few seconds, I began to think I'd maybe got away with covering my pussy. But it was only a few seconds, not even a minute, before he said, "Come on then."

"Come on what?"

"Wank it. Use both hands."

I couldn't believe I was even considering doing this. But in truth at this point, I had already made up my mind to capitulate to any request, to avoid this leading to a full rape situation. So without question or hesitation both of my hands encircled his shaft, and I began to slide them up and down.

My hands had only just moved from my crotch, when one of his moved in, and as I started on his cock, his middle finger end began stroking the lips, and then the valley of my pussy. "You're ready."

"I'm sorry. What d'you mean?"

"You're wet. No more wanking. Get back up the couch. Here's a cushion to put under your back."

It was all so matter of fact and cut and dried. My pussy was wet, so I was now going to get fucked. No mention of please. Or, would you like to. Or even taking hold of me and forcing his way on me. He just expected me to get myself into position for him, and was even offering a cushion to make myself comfortable. And what was more surreal, was that at first, I even began to comply.

I'd taken my hands from his cock, and I'd eased my bottom up onto the settee and even taken hold of the cushion. But then reality struck, and still in a sitting position, but now sideways on the settee, I stopped and said, "No, wait. Look Bill. I can't do this. I'll wank you. You can look at me naked and I'll even spread my legs so you can see it. But no touching. And I'm not going to let you fuck me."

He had already gotten up from his chair, and was stood alongside where I sat. And as I finished speaking, without making any reply, he used one hand, with fingers spread open like a massive star-fish, placed it on my chest, between my breast and neck. And then as he pushed my upper body back down to the settee, his knee dropped in between my legs, and dropped my right leg off the settee and his other hand lifted my left leg under the knee, spreading me wide open.

It all happened in one continuous sequence, and as I attempted to thwart one thing, the next was already taking place. But at the point he lifted my leg and my pussy was spread I felt his cock touch and enter.

I let out the loudest scream I could muster. "SKREEEEEEEEEEEICH!" But it had no effect on Bill. He'd easily got absolute control of the physical situation, and ignoring my scream; he'd lowered himself into a comfortable position, and now began to test my pussy for depth.

I'd mentioned before the monstrous size of his cock, it being a good two inches longer than my James's and so much thicker. But at the time I'd never expected my pussy to have to experience it. But it was obvious that Bill was aware of his extreme size, and knew the average woman wouldn't be used to encountering such girth.

So now with me securely pinned down and stretched out under him, he was able to take his time, and break me in gradually.

But as my pussy had definitely never encountered anything resembling that girth, before he'd even halted his first probe for depth, the stretching sensation had rendered my scream, to a breathless gasp. And I was held with just gasping silence until his first push had finished and he took a steady withdrawal. It was now, with sensations flooding my every being, and his cock-end almost back at my entrance, that I summoned up all my resolve, and at the top of my voice, called, "TREVOR. TREVOR PLEASE COME QUICK. HE'S RAPING ME."

Bill didn't flinch. No attempt to stifle me, and not in any way put-off the job in hand. In fact, I think the last part of my call for help had probably faded to no more than a breathless gasp, as Bill had now taken a second depth sounding, and this time, I'm sure he had not only stretched my pussy walls wider than they'd ever been. But I'm sure he was now in virgin territory. No cock had ever been up that high, and all I could do was gasp out, "Oh my heavens above. Bill stop."

As Bill stopped with his cock deep up inside my pussy, Trevor arrived in the room.

On seeing the movement, I'd turned my head, and even though I could see Trevor standing to my side, I lay there spread wide open, with my body shaking uncontrollably. As I gasped a long protracted sequence of sighs, as each contraction engulfed me. "Ohhh. Ohhh. Ohhh. Ohhh. Ohhh. Ohhh. Ohhh. Ohhh." 

And as I repeatedly gasped and shook, he froze on the spot, and then looking at Bill, said, "You bloody fool. What have you done?"

"It's ok. She wanted fucking."

"Don't give me that. She was screaming for help."

"She was just frightened. She's ok now."

It was about now, the pussy clamping began to ease off, and without intending to, I voiced my thoughts. "Oh god Bill. I. I thought I'd pass-out. I think its ok again now."

I saw the smile he gave Trevor, and then I felt his withdrawal. But before he pulled it back a couple of inches, he'd pushed again, and it was on its way back up. "Oh god Bill that's soooooo. Oh god."

Well I'm not absolutely sure of the sequence of events, nor my words from this point on, but it was very much like I've described so far. And as it continued in that vein with me coming out with words exclaiming my feelings of exhilaration, Bill continued. Not in a rush, but just taking his time, gently easing himself into my pussy, until I was taking his full length. Not that this was long in terms of time, maybe no more than two or three minutes at the most. 

But all the while, Trevor had been at my side. At the onset, standing, but once he'd heard me exclaiming my delight, he'd calmed down himself, and took up a kneeling stance. Still alongside me, with one arm above my head. And after he'd brushed my hair from my eyes with his fingers, he used his hand and began to gently stroke my forehead. And before long, his other hand was on my breast, which he was also gently fondling.

It was now that Bill re-positioned himself, slipping hands under each of my knees and lifting, and then whilst holding my legs aloft, he said, "Hold her tight."

Trevor looked at me, then to Bill, "What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna cum."

"Well do it gently."

"I can't. Hold her tight."

Jesus Christ! If I'd thought the sensations he'd generated with his slow steady shafting in and out were the pinnacle of exhilaration, then I'd been very much mistaken. Because as Bill delivered his spunk deep up inside my pussy, his violent ramming thrusts set my body off in an equally violent bucking, as I lifted, thrust and ground my pelvis onto each of his lunges. 

It was nothing short of magnificent. And even after he'd finished and pulled out, I lay in Trevor's arms, writhing around. Towards the end of my shameless display, I gradually became aware of Trevor holding me. And I realised, that at least some of the sensations I was in the grip of, were being generated by him; with his two big fat fingers in my pussy. 

But even though I now realised, it was a good thirty or more seconds before I could summon the wherewithal to first say, "Please Trevor." And then as I managed to get my hand to take hold of the back of his, "Please stop." 

He did, but not instantly. 

His first reaction when my hand took hold of his, was to pull out. And then as if to demonstrate that my hand played no part in his decision to stop, he re-entered. And then thrusting them in and out even more quickly, he rammed them in deeper. 

But once he'd done this, he pulled his fingers out, and gently returned me to a sitting position, asking, "Was it as good as it looked?"

For a split second I almost replied with the truth. And then from nowhere, I erupted with words I'd not used since my rebellious teenage years. "You pair of fucking bastards. How on earth did you think you'd get away with that? Who the fuck do you think I am? You must think I'm some frightened schoolgirl if you think I'll let that happen to me and then keep quiet."

I could see Trevor had taken the hint, and he'd backed well away. But Bill was slumped back in the armchair, as if he hadn't got a care in the world, wiping his cock with what looked like his handkerchief.

I lashed out again, but this time directing my abuse towards Bill. "Don't sit there ignoring me. You won't be smiling by the time the police have finished with you."

At this point, Trevor regrouped his wits, and edging his way back towards me, he said, "Shirley luv, he didn't mean you no harm. Please don't be hasty."

"Hasty! Didn't mean me any harm! He raped me. And you're as bad. You sat there and molested me whilst he was doing it."

"But he was careful. You have to admit, he didn't force himself into you in a rush. He let your fanny get used to his size before he fucked it hard."

"He raped me. It doesn't matter whether he took his time or went at it bull at a gate."

"Oh no. You're wrong there lass. If he'd rammed it up right from the start, you'd still be squealing with a ripped open fanny. He definitely did his best to ease you in slowly. I know he got a bit rough at the end. But he could see you were on top of it by then, and it's always difficult for a man to control himself during his cum strokes."

"Don't either of you realise the seriousness of what he's just done."

Just then I saw Bill getting to his feet and beginning to strip off. As he was the other side of the room it didn't really concern me, other than I thought it another level of intimidating behaviour to flaunt himself so blatantly. But much as I felt it an intimidation, it was still impossible to ignore looking at him. And as he dropped his underpants to the floor, leaving himself naked, his eyes locked onto mine.

The motionless stare only lasted seconds, and then as he began to walk towards me, he said, "Get yourself comfortable again. This one could take a bit longer." Trevor marched across and intercepted him, holding his hand open palmed to stop his approach. But Bill took his wrist and pushing it aside, said, "Don't be such a prat. You heard her, she enjoyed it."

"And I also heard her talking about police, and being raped."

"That's women for you, can't make up their mind. Now move aside, otherwise I'll move you."

As Trevor held his hand back up to block Bill's passage, he said, "No. you're not touching her again. Maybe if you show her you're genuinely sorry, she might not report you."

Bill brushed Trevor's arm aside again, and as Trevor brought his other arm up, they both went into a full wrestling brawl. I thought about making my escape, even though it would have to be a naked one. But even though Satan kept clear of the brawling brothers, the second he saw me attempt to get to my feet, his hackles went up, and that deep throated growl started. So with any thoughts of escape thwarted, I had to sit back and hope Trevor came out as the victor.