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Mack

By: SnapperL



Awoken

An uneasy silence filled the room. He had been sitting, unmoving and deep in thought for longer than he could remember. The plain room that had become his sanctuary and his prison was completely empty save an unusually large stack of books in one corner and a mattress in the other. As quiet and empty as the windowless white-washed room was; his mind was loud, racing, and full of everything that had happened and everything he had to do. He finished the last pages of the book he had only just picked up as his mind spurred his body into action. Mack was now fully galvanized and mentally ready to take on the calling that had been laid before him. 

Mack left the one room flat he had been using in the middle of Dakhla. He came from the complex to find the bustling city reassuring. The Dakhla people went about their daily chores unaware that the man that had just entered the street was angry inside, that he had revenge on his mind, and that he was preparing after a 2 year slumber to bring hell to earth. He had called Africa home for too long and it was now time to enact revenge on the group that had destroyed his life.

The dusty streets of the city with the dust colored buildings created a very surreal atmosphere that made anyone who had been to a northern country long for the color green. Not all parts of Dakhla are dusty, but being in the western part of the Sahara has its disadvantages. The African sun beats down with an intensity that is not to be found many other places in the world. Everything in this place that can not hide from the heat is eventually turned into more dust. 

Mack took the surroundings of southern Dakhla in; street merchants were lined on both sides of the street, selling everything imaginable. They sold their wares with a tenacity that truly made one understand how desperate they were. The dire situation of this people can be seen in the fact that appearances are unimportant; the trash that covers the streets indicates that in their lives there are more important tasks than keeping their society clean. The items that Mack needed though were not to be found in the inventory of a street vendor. He would have to go see Zula.

Magmus

Magmus Corporation has made the news lately, but not for good reasons. Magmus is being investigated for violating antitrust regulations. The UK Government is considering options on what to do with the Energy Giant to include fines or possibly breaking up the conglomerate.

Pete exited the black limo that had all but become his home over the last few months (rework). The conglomerate of people and cameras surrounded Pete per usual; shouting question after question trying to be heard over the other rats in the group. Man how he hated the press. 

"No questions, please. We will put out a press release when we have conclusive answers to provide."

"Mr. No... Mr. Novak, do you have anything to say about the allegations that your company has been illega--

Smiling Pete calmly cut the young lady off that had asked the question, "Again, we will put out something conclusive when we have something conclusive to put out; ergo, I have nothing to say at this moment in time."

The questions continued as Pete walked in to the all glass mirrored 35 story building. The structure had been finished 3 years ago, in time for Pete's father to see it before he passed away. In hind sight Pete thought to himself that he should have had a fence installed around the compound.

"Mr. Novak, Mr. Benson is waiting in your office for you." The receptionist called out to Pete as he came through the door."

"Thank you, Melissa. How long has he been waiting?" Pete walked to the desk and smiled at her.

"Not long. He arrived around 10 minutes ago. Would you like me to hold your calls?"

"Please," said Pete as he walked down the corridor towards his office.

Pete came in to his office and closed the door. He glanced around the office before setting eyes on Mr. Benson.

"Majaliwa, I trust you found your flight pleasant?" asked Pete as he shook Majaliwa's hand.

Majaliwa name was deceptive and so was his appearance. His mother was British and his father was Namibian. He had grown up in Africa most of his life with his father after his mother passed away, however his father was able to afford for him to go to school in the UK. Majaliwa was a large man with a firm handshake. He had a dark complexion with piercing blue eyes and short dreads.

"I did," he said in his African accent.

"Good. I am pleased with the results of our agreement. I have deposited the money into your account."

"Very good and thank you."

" Majaliwa, you have been working off and on for me for a couple of years now. I would like to hire you full time to be my representative in our African operations." Pete sat down in his chair and lit a cigar.

Majaliwa sat back in his chair as he crossed his legs. He sat for a while thinking about the offer before answering. "I would be pleased to work for you further, Mr. Novak"

"Great! Talk to Melissa on your way out; she will sort your arrangements out while you are here in the UK. I will contact you in a few days. Please take this time to tour the building here."

Majaliwa and Pete both stood up at the same time to shake each others hand. There was a moment of pause in the handshake as they looked into each other's eyes.

"Good and good bye, Mr. Benson"

"Good bye."

Alex and Sonya

Mack drank alone at a busy bar in the rather beautiful and tourist city of Casablanca. The bar was located in the cities heart. The heart of Casablanca is not actually in the center of the city; it lies on the couple of miles of coast line that look out towards the Atlantic Ocean. He was meeting Zula tomorrow afternoon; so he figured he had at least half a day that he could drink. Zula would understand also if he needed to rest when he got there. She always understood. Mack looked out at the dark area of sky that he knew met with the deep blue ocean as he thought about the people drinking in the bar. They all seemed so happy. They seemed so completely and utterly happy. He wondered how it would feel to be one of these naïve people that socialized and drank in this bar. 

"Probably would feel pretty good," 

"What would feel good," said a rather more feminine voice then he had expected to hear tonight.

"To be naive."

"To be naive? Why would it feel good to be naive?" shot back the voice again.

She's quick and on her toes. Mack had not looked at her yet. He was afraid that reality might not come to par with the picture he had in his mind. He pondered the question. 

If I was naïve I wouldn't know how fucked up everything is? No thats not it. 

"To be naïve is to be free. To be free from guilt and worry."

He had tortured himself enough and managed a glance in the direction of the voice. Green eyes. Green eyes held him in a stare which he could not leave until allowed to. After a few excruciatingly comfortable moments the voice allowed him to have another drink.

"I'm Alex, who are you," said Alex.

"Mack, so what brings you to hell?"

"Is this Hell? I was rather enjoying myself."

"As one does in Hell I suppose. So what does bring you to Morocco and how old are you by the way?" Says Mack as he takes a long drink from his beer. The beer was good. It had been a long while since he had indulged and it felt good. 

"I work for Allitan, out of the UK. We are working a deal to export phosphates and some other raw materials." Alex paused while she took a drink from her wine glass. "The export market has really expanded in recent years from Morocco.

"Interesting," said Mack bluntly.

"Is it?"

"If you enjoy what you do then that is all that matters. What are phosphates used for?"

"Well since your interested, phosphates are used in many things. House hold detergent, farming; to name a couple"

"You didn't answer my other question." 

Alex grinned slightly as she took another drink. "I'm 27, and you?"

Old is what Mack was, perhaps not in years but in miles he was very old. He tried to remember what it felt like when he had been happy. Mack started to think about the first time he had met his wife. It had been a very different situation than meeting someone in a bar.

Mack and his team had come in on a chopper to a small village that was under attack.. The British Government had sent them in to help South Africa squash the rebels that had been trying to take over parts of the country. 

"OK, we move in 30 seconds. Remember your partner and watch his back. Cloud, I want your eyes immediately. Don't wait for us, start taking them out."

The helicopter landed about a quarter of a mile away from the village. Cloud immediately started humping it towards a large hill that would give him visibility over the town below. The other four men made there way down the hill. Thor had been on point; with BOB to his right, and Mack and Butterfingers worked from the left. The area had open fields like so much of Africa with clumps of trees skirting the terrain. The team started to spread out as they came down the hill, guns at the ready they moved in with an odd walk that allowed their sights to remain motionless as they moved. They paused just outside of the town. There must have been just over 10 rebels from what Mack saw. 

The four men picked their first targets; all four of which had been hanging out watching next to a couple of buildings. As they moved within 20 feet they saw a badie go down further up. Cloud had just taken out his first. This caused their four targets to become alert, however before they could turn around they were all dead. Three of the men were shot and Butterfingers who always liked to get a little more dirty, had slit the throat of his. 

"Thats five," said Mack into his radio. Another badie went down as Cloud took out his second. The rebels were so busy ransacking the town they didn't see him drop though. 

Mack heard screams from one of the houses. "B, you're with me."

Butterfingers humped it around the back of the house as Mack made his way for the front door. Mack paused at the front door as he got a flashbang out of his pack. 

He whispered into his microphone. "Now, B." 

Two flashbangs went off simultaneously in the house just before Mack stepped through the front door. As Mack entered he saw several things all at once; Butterfingers came in through the back door, two rebels were there, and three villagers. Mack shot the rebel closest to him as Butterfingers took out the other one with his knife again. Mack admired the way Butterfingers switched back and forth so quickly between his knife and gun. The villagers are very silent as Mack looked at them. There were two women and a man. Both women had been stripped of their clothing. The man had been shot several times and was lying bleeding on the floor. 

"Thor, how are you," said Mack in to his radio.

A shot rang through the radio and echoed just after in the air. "We are good. Last one just went down. We are doing a final sweep."

"Good, BOB I have an injured man here."

"There are three here as well. How bad is he." Responded BOB through the radio.

"He's pretty messed up. He has been shot several times in the chest."

"OK"

Butterfingers went over to the man and knelt down to start tending to his wounds. Mack pulled two blankets off of the couch and handed them to the women. 

"We are with the SAS. You are safe now." Said Mack to the villagers.

Mack finally had a chance to look at the women more closely. He noticed the Black woman was very tall and had a stately grace about her that instantly made him respect her. The other woman was Caucasian with straight dirty blond hair. He smiled as he looked at her, from happiness. He couldn't help but think that she seemed so attractive standing there. 

"I'm Mack. Are you two alright?"

The women looked at each other momentarily then back at Mack then at each other again.

"I'm Zula. Thank you and I think we will be OK now." Said Zula to Mack.

The Caucasian girl came to Zula; and allowed Zula to put her arms around her as she started to weep. 

"Laying on the floor is Dr. Patrick Jessop and This is Dr. Sonya Trent. They are the doctor's of this region. She can help with the wounded." Zula turned to Sonya now. "Sonya, you need to get control of yourself. You are needed." Whispered Zula.

"I-I know. I need some clothes." Zula guided Sonya in to the other room of the house so they could both put fresh clothing on.

"Sir, I'm not sure how much more can be done for this one without a hospital." Butterfingers looked up at Mack.

"OK. Let me have the GSM." Butterfingers got the phone out of his bag and handed it to Mack. Mack proceeded to dial a number.

"SoAf operations."

"This is Lt. Makin. We need a MedVac for 4 wounded."

"MedVac is on its way, Lt. Makin. Have the wounded ready for transport in 15 mike."

"Thank you." Mack gave the phone back to Butterfingers. Sonya and Zula came out from the other room dressed and Sonya appeared to have found new strength. Mack admired the strength that both of these women showed at such an abhorrent point in their lives. 

Mack and Butterfingers moved Dr. Jessop to the evacuation point where the other wounded were at. Mack sat down and enjoyed a power bar with Thor and BOB. Dr. Trent went around helping the four wounded villagers. Mack found himself watching her intently. Now that she had regained her composure she had the same stately grace that Zula had carried earlier. She had that usual South African accent that Mack found irresistible and she was completely goregous.

"I might be in love guys."

"I think I'm suffering from the same affliction," said Thor. 

"What about you Beast Of Burden?" asked Butterfingers.

"Aye, they are both beautiful," responded BOB.

Mack paused while he turned up the last of his beer. He felt like smiling as he thought about Sonya's face. He refrained though. He had not smiled since it had happened. He came back to reality then. "So should we continue this jig or should we go back to your hotel room and fuck. I'm just trying to weigh up what my options are, Green Eyes." 

He dared another glance at her and again was held by her stare. Her wavy hair was as dark as the African sky and complimented the eyes that bore through from behind it at him. Her cheeks flushed for a moment before she got her composure.

"Wow, he has a sense of humor and he's modest. I'm starting to feel all tingly inside," said Alex facetiously.

"I guess we'll keep dancing then."

Melissa

Melissa had been to circuits for lunch. She always had a lot of energy after circuits. As she sat there recovering, she wondered how all the out of shape people around her could stand to let their bodies go like they did. 

Mary and her husband must be having troubles, she seems to be coming from the smoking lounge again.

The phone rang then and allowed her to get back in to her work. 

"Melissa, can you bring in the reports from the Egypt convention."

"Sure thing, Pete."

The office was as busy as a metropolitan city. It was almost its own society with people going about their daily jobs unaware of everything that was going on around them. Melissa glided through the swarms of people making her way to Mr. Novak's office. She wondered what kind of mood he was in today. He had been under a lot of stress lately with the investigation.

As Melissa came in the office Pete immediately noticed the flushed skin tone of her cheeks and the way her blond curls stuck to her skin at the roots. He loved when she worked out.

"Hello gorgeous, how is your day going?"

"Hi. I'm fine. More importantly though, how are you."

"Lock the door. I'm good...dealing with it all I guess. You go to circuits?"

"I did," she said as she raised her shirt ever so slightly to show her toned stomach while doing a spin in the middle of the room. "Do they have any proof?"

Pete glanced at the Egypt report, sighed, then put it back on the desk. "They have some evidence, but nothing conclusive. I have a man that may be able to help us out with the Antitrust suit. He works at the office that started the case against us. If everything works out he should have a new house in Spain and the government should drop the case. Come here." Pete said as he grinned at Melissa.

"I don't think so."

"Come here." Repeated Pete as he grabbed Melissa's arm pulling her on to his lap. 

They engaged in a knowing kiss before staring at each other for a long while. If he stared at her long enough all his problems might slip away. Only to stay in this moment, forever.

She whispered ever so softly in his ear. "You'll get no sympathy from me."

"I didn't expect any. Your so hard on me."

"I'm not hard on you. But if I held your hand through everything you would never learn. And with that I have to get back to work." she said.

(need more more more....what is the point of this chapter? plot push?)

Majaliwa

The streets of London were beautiful, but the kind of beauty that a person that enjoyed chaos would find appealing. This was not the part of London though that the tourist went to. He found it more enjoyable to walk where others did not go. In the West End of London people lived by different rules, rules that Majaliwa understood. He had a few days before his flight would take him back to his homeland. He had been employed by Peter Novak to help handle the mining operations of some mineral in Namibia. A place that he had lived a couple of years ago. He neither cared what the mineral was or what Mr. Novak wanted with it. As he looked at the people in the West End he had nostalgia for how he had grown up. He had grown up poor and had found a way to get out of that life. He never wanted to be like these people again; never wanted to feel that desperate. As he walked down the street he noticed that people watched him; like any pack watches a new comber. He stopped in front of a public house and decided to go in.

The pub was like any other pub that can be imagined. A wooden bar made up the heart of the building; dingy carpet sat under the areas that had tables. A wooden floor spread out across the rest of the building; long past needing to be sanded and re-varnished. As he entered the room the locals looked up from their conversations and pints at him. He ignored their eyes and went to the bar. The bartender came over after serving another customer to take his order. Majaliwa scanned the beers on tap quickly before responding.

"A pint of Carlsburg, please."

"Sure thing, mate." The bartender said as he grabbed a glass and proceeded to pour the cold beer. 

"Where you from then?" Asked the man.

Majaliwa paused as he paid the man for the beer. "I'm from Zambia, in southern Africa. I'm just here visiting some friends." 

"Africa? Well, its nice to see a new face. Welcome."

"Thank you."

Majaliwa felt a bump come from the left side of him as he heard a beer fall to the ground. He saw a young boy turn and look at him. Majaliwa stared at the boy waiting to see what he was going to do. The boy looked annoyed that he was there. 

"Oi, you going to say your sorry for spillin' my beer? And I don't like the way you're lookin' at me either, mate."

"I did not spill your beer. You bumped in to me."

The bartender saw what was happening and spoke up. "Tom, I'll pour you another pint, then you're cut off for the night. Now leave this man alone."

"Ya, whatever."

The boy took his pint and went back to where his friends were sitting. Majaliwa's eyes met with the bartender. 

"Sorry about tha...."

"Its alright, nothing I am not used to. So what is your name, friend?" 

"I'm Paul, and you?"

"Majal, its a pleasure to meet you."

"You're English is better......than I would have expected."

"I went to school in England" Majaliwa's phone rang from within his coat. He pulled it out and answered it.


Mack



Hey Guys,

So I was watching Pokémon. This poured out of my head. The trainer I write about is female, expect them to do some fucking. She's also going to have some interesting things happen to her...

Disclaimer: Pokemon, Pregnancy, Transformation, some gay fucking (sort of) and transsexuals. Beware.

The Illuminaughty

*****

Mack is a Machoke. He's different, because he's larger than most others, standing at 5'3" rather than 4'11", weighing in at more like 185 pounds of pure muscle. I've also trained him so he's much more docile outside of battle, so he doesn't wear a power save belt, only those purple navy briefs. He's always been this way, because he was affected by heavy amounts of nuclear radiation, and in his recovery he changed a lot. I noticed that for some strange reason, he can learn almost any move. Always advantageous in battle. But, above all, he's strange because he can speak telepathically, and, more importantly, he doesn't love female Machokes. He loves me.

On that day, that fateful day I'll always remember, I was training him. I was dressed in short short jeans and purple nike frees with white soles, without socks. I was in a white tee, with "I'm a FIGHTING" printed across the front, stretched out over my DDs. It was 8 in the morning, I had just finished brushing my hair, which held itself in curls at the ends, coming off my head straight. The light brown was contrasted by the dark blue of my eyes. The move was Triple Kick, and he wasn't doing brilliantly, but he was trying his best. Time after time, he threw himself at that punching bag hanging from the ceiling of the red barn. He would hit once, but then fall. He'd get the hang of it, hit twice, and then hit the hay blocks on the opposite wall. Until he got it.

After four hours of failing to hit it three times in a row, with increasing strength, I was getting tired. I yelled, for the forty billionth time that day, 

"Mack, Use Triple Kick!" Mack was getting tired too, I could see it, and I thought as I said it that we'd go in for some lunch after. It was noon, after all. But then Mack started running at the red punching bag, burst open in a few places from blows over the years. His takeoff was perfect, I could see the line as I watched like it was slow motion. He hit it flawlessly, smacking it harder each time he connected. Mack landed with absolute balance, and I ran over to him.

"Mack, that was great! You did it perfectly! Good job!" and I kissed him on the cheek. Apparently, that mean's 'let's fuck' in Pokémon, because he grabbed my arms and kissed back. I lifted up my arms to hold his biceps in my hands, and Mack shoved his tongue into my mouth. I let it happen, wanting to see what would occur, and not really having much choice anyway. Mack pulled off my shirt and grabbed both sides of my bra from under my arms, and pulled them apart with effortless but extreme force. The clips at the back shattered, and it was thrown to the side. I pulled my shoes off with my feet, pulling down my shorts as Mack's strong hands gripped my tits, fondling. My panties came down, and Mack reached for his own covering. 

I had never looked. I knew he was a he, but I didn't take too much interest in my Pokémon's genitals. So it was a shock to me when Mack pulled his briefs down and, from a space like nothing, in less than a second, emerged a fully hard 10" dick, as wide as a soda can. I gasped as he grabbed my sides, entering me in missionary. I moaned loudly as the creature's cock buried itself in me. Mack groaned as his purple cock got all the way in, with me squealing from a mixture of pain and pleasure. I exhaled as he pulled out, and inhaled sharply as he thrust back in. Mack built up a steady rhythm, pumping his dick in and out of his trainer's cunt. 

Soon, Mack was thrusting very quickly, beating his hips against my ass. He lifted me up, balancing me on his cock, and I wrapped my arms around his neck as he grabbed my ass and continued to thrust. I heard his grunts get louder and louder, and finally,

"maaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAACHOKE!" and I was filled to the brim with Pokémon semen. He lay me back down on the hay bales, and came for a solid 30 seconds before stopping. He then backed away, and I watched as his figure glowed white, and then a bright flash grew until it stopped, and the light shut off and there was darkness. I regained my vision, and looked back at Mack. But it wasn't Mack, not exactly.

Mack looked up. He had evolved, but not quite. His skin had turned light blue, and he had grown an extra set of arms. Everything seemed normal, except a few key qualities: The stripes on his arms remained, and his mouth was small and unlike that of a Machamp, more like a Bagon. Exhausted, I stood up and retrieved my panties and shirt. Mack put his briefs back on, and carried me back to the bedroom of the house, a mile back down the drive. By the time we got there, my panties were soaked with leaked cum. I shed my clothes and collapsed on the bed, and Mack took off his briefs and laid next to me. We didn't wake up until the next morning, after a solid hour of fucking. 

*****

A month later, after enjoying Mack's evolved, larger endowment many times, I decided I needed to see a doctor. I ended up seeing a therapist, one that specialized in the bonds between Pokémon and their trainers. His name was Professor Gale Evergreen. 

I waited for at least twenty minutes in the waiting room, coaxing Mack and reading the magazines. Finally, Professor Evergreen ushered me in to the room. I sat down on the couch, and Mack sat next to me. The professor insisted on being called Gale.

"Um... Gale... I don't know how to phrase this, so I'll just say it. I screwed my Pokémon." Gale's eyes widened. He gestured to Mack, and I nodded.

"Okay, I've heard this one before, but I need some details to suggest things to you." He said, preparing his pen and paper.

"Well, it all started when I caught him. He went voluntarily, as I had treated him and nursed him back to health when he saved me from a nuclear accident. The changes were evident, though. He can change types at will, and you can tell which one he is now by the color of his stripes and irises. He can also talk telepathically, and learn about any move. I was teaching him Triple Kick, and he got it right after a long time of practicing that morning. I ran up to him and kissed him on the cheek, and he kissed me back. It went from there... he came in my cunt and I didn't clean it out. After finishing his load, he evolved, so I guess he's a Machamp, but he's not got all the correct attributes." I recited this calmly, looking at Mack every so often. Gale thought for a moment.

"Well, I can tell you with relative confidence what has and will occur. Your Pokémon has received some very unique attributes from his nuclear exposure, which is probably why he didn't evolve exactly the way he was supposed to. He will probably continue to grow, his muscle mass increasing the more he works. As for you, two things will happen, with 95% certainty: One, you will get pregnant with his baby Pokémon, and two, you will probably become part Pokémon as a result of the DNA introduced to your system. Pokemon seed is incredibly powerful, having the ability to rewrite DNA. You probably won't become a Machamp like him, as the DNA will rewrite some of yours into Pokémon DNA, but not necessarily his specific kind. You'll be able to tell what your new form is because its thoughts will start combining with yours. You will retain human speech abilities, plus whatever parts the Pokemon DNA doesn't overwhelm. The physical transformation will not happen gradually, the DNA will activate all at once in your sleep, after it is finished developing. This will occur after the babies are delivered, but signs will show up before then." Gale spoke in a monotone voice, paying minimal attention to my look of shock.

"I'm going to turn into a Pokemon?" I said, slowly.

"I'm afraid so, Ms. Lawrence. Jennifer, to ensure the healthy delivery of your baby, I should tell you about them first. They'll develop very quickly, you'll be full size in three months. They will then proceed to incubate inside of you for another three. Understand me?" Gale said, as I was still in shock. I snapped out of my daze and nodded. 

"Furthermore, I suggest that you remain attentive to Mack over here for as long as you can. You're carrying his babies, after all. Nurse Joy at the Center can confirm my results. I suggest you go over there." Gale wrote a message on his business card,

"Test Jennifer for pregnancy and progress of DNA transformation. Be respectful, as this isn't a completely normal occurrence." The professor handed me the note, and I walked out of the building, Mack in tow.

Test results came back positive. I was two weeks along, and Nurse Joy detected twins. I was apparently 5% done with DNA transformation. I returned to the house, ate dinner, and went to sleep. I lay my head on Mack's chest, embracing him as he fell asleep, four arms around me.

*****

It was at the three month mark that I figured out what I was turning into. It was confirmed the day before that they had finished growing, now were incubating. I was the size of a house, my belly was as big as that of a woman overdue with triplets. Man, Mack's kind were huge. I gained 38 pounds in three months, and I noticed my tits had grown. I estimated that that meant the babies were each about 15 pounds, and about 6 pounds had gone to my rack. Mack carried me around on his back when I really wanted to go somewhere, otherwise he helped me move around the house. That particular morning, I woke up alone in bed, and then Mack walked in with a plate of scrambled eggs, with tomato and bacon infused into it.

"Aww, Mack, you know how to cook?" I said. I felt his dialogue in return enter my brain.

"Yes, love, I do..." I caught, and Mack smiled. He put the plate on my lap, and gave me a fork. He sat down next to me, and rubbed my belly with his second arms as I put the plate on my enormous belly, eating bites one by one. Mack brushed my hair away from my cheek as he leaned in, kissing my face. I finished the bite and put the eggs down on the bedside table, turning over towards him and kissing him back. I removed my singular piece of clothing, my panties, before grabbing his ass and saying,

"Fuck me, you fool." I said, passionately kissing him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He said to my mind. 

"Hell, yes, baby, I need you inside me. It's time." I said. He knew exactly what I meant. I ripped his underwear off and sucked his cock, making it as wet as could be. I then proceeded to turn over and sit on all fours. Mack grabbed my hips and my ass, positioning himself behind me. He teased my asshole with his monster, and then plunged.

I'm not going to lie. Before that day, I was an anal virgin. I'd been pressured before, but I never did it. The loud moan I made was like no other, and his cock beat my asshole for several minutes. I then said loudly,

"Mack, Use Double Team!" and suddenly another Mack appeared below me. He entered his cock into my cunt, and I squealed while I was penetrated by two monster cocks. This continued for several minutes before we came simultaneously, and what came extremely loudly out of my mouth was as follows,

"RAPIDASH"

*****

It was two weeks after my due date that I finally went into labor. Mack picked me up, running off to the Pokemon Center. In less than ten minutes, I was on the table, in stirrups, completely naked. I was sweating, holding my belly tight as I dealt with the pain, the doctors telling me only to push on their mark. 

"You need to push now, Jenny, ok? Hold on to Mack's hand, and push this baby as hard as you can. Ready? One, two, three, PUUUUUUSH!" The doctor shouted, and I groaned and shouted as I pushed the baby out of my vagina. The thing had four arms, it wasn't going to come easy. 

"Ready? One more time, I can see the head, c'mon... One, Two, three, PUSH!" yelled the nurse, fingers close to catch the head. The baby Machoke's head popped out. 

"One more push, then baby number one will be born, I promise... Ready, PUSH!" said the doctor, and I groaned and shouted loudly as I bent over my engorged stomach. I pushed as hard as I possibly could. I felt the first baby's shoulders pass through, followed by the rest of its body, which came out with ease. 

Twenty minutes later, the babies had been all cleaned up. Cords cut, wiped down, they take their first breaths, normal human stuff. Mack brings one in each set of arms, and tells me,

"They're beautiful... look at our beautiful babies..." And he puts them in my arms. One's a boy and one's a girl, he says. As I put one on each arm, they grab at my torso with all eight of their arms, and form a quad-grasp on each breast, sucking from my reserves. I smile, holding them up. Mack leans in and kisses me.

*****

When the babies turned one, I was told I was 100% done genetically, and to expect waking up completely different looking any day now. Well, as the kids reached 13 months, that day passed. I put the kids to bed, and they were silent. First day of more than six hours of sleep in a long time. I woke up, feeling like I was in the fetal position. I was under the covers when Mack walked in, carrying each baby in two hands. 

"Good morning, Rapidash." He said, smiling. He didn't think it to me, he said it. I understood Pokemon. I rubbed my eyes, looking down my front. Same boobs and stomach... Mack held up a mirror. My hair had changed color, now bright red at the root, warming gradually to soft yellow at the ends. I moved the covers, rolling over. But first, I looked down, and there sure as hell weren't legs there. I looked at the reflection in the glass window in the early morning, and saw that I clearly had the bottom half of a horse. Four legs, about 4 feet of space to sit on my back, the flame tail and line down my spine, the whole nine yards. I gasped, trying to get myself to a kneel on the floor. I bent my four knees, eventually resting on them. I tried to stand up, awkwardly getting up off the floor. I must have stood 8 feet tall, at least. I walked slowly and awkwardly to the bathroom, guided by Mack. One wall was ten feet high and fifteen feet long, covered entirely by a mirror. I looked at myself, examining exactly what had happened to me.

I was smaller than a regular horse, my ass was about 40 inches off the ground at the start of the flaming tail, and my back was about 4 feet long. Where the Rapidash head should have started, the area just above my former ass started. From the front, I had full view of my belly, and my undercarriage between my front and rear legs was all folds of skin. I suddenly looked down, and between my rear legs, there was a dick. Completely soft, it was 9" and 3" wide. Mack was 10" by 4" soft. And he was 13" by 6" hard. Mack watched me look in the mirror, and knelt down under my belly to look at what was between my legs. I could see his eyes widen at the huge cock, and I moaned and watched his reflection grab my dick and balls, and start fondling them. I heard a noise, like a balloon being pumped up, and suddenly my privates felt much heavier. I gasped as I looked back down at him, and he was just getting up when I saw the oranges hanging from my leg gap. 

"So you're a guy." Mack says, and kisses me. 

"Um, I guess so. Cool with you?"

"Fuck yes. Let's get those kids fed." Mack mused, walking me back to the nursery. 

*****

After a month had gone by, Jenny had finally learned to walk properly and gallop, how to move like a horse. She hadn't left the property since her transformation. Jennifer stopped breastfeeding the kids, and got them a babysitter who worked outside the house. 

Jen had finally asked Mack to try taking her. Mack obliged, but not without extraordinary amounts of lube. 

Mack sat on all sixes on the hay bale, and Jen walked up behind him, straddling the hay bale.

Jen's hard cock would tease Mack's asshole, and she would moan while the cock entered Mack, like it had a mind of its own. 

Mack squealed as his virgin asshole was ripped apart by the hard foot long, 5" wide cock, griping the hay bale for dear life as Jenny shoved herself into him. 

Jen took a while to get the hang of this body, thrusting her rear hips independent of her front ones. 

In the end, Jen came buckets into Mack, and Mack ended up enjoying it too, and they did this occasionally.

As the fifth week after the transformation started, Jennifer was out walking with Mack. Mack sat on her back, swaying softly with the movement of Jen's belly. Jen stopped cold.

"Ow." She said.

"What is it?" Mack said.

"I don't know. Something between my front two legs. Can you check? I think I hit something a while ago and the bruise hurts now." Jennifer said.

"Okay, I'll look," Mack said. He got off, knelt down, and moved the folds around to look at me. "Um, Jennifer, you're bleeding." Mack said, worriedly. He moved the folds of skin to look at the source. "Oh, no... that's not bleeding from an injury, that's a period." He said, staring at the cunt in front of him.

"What? How?" Jen said, quizzical. 

"Well, it certainly is real.." Mack said, sticking a finger inside of it. 

"Stop that!" Jennifer said, giggling. "I need to go back and find some pads or something. Let's go." Jen said, watching Mack get back on her.



Mack



by

PapaWereBear and UrsusMajr

(This is a work of fiction, depicting sex between consenting adult males. If such offends you or is illegal for you to read where you live, or you are under the age of eighteen, please leave now. No actual persons or events are depicted. Safe sexual practices are not used, but remember, this is fiction; in real life, get tested and play safe.)

Copyright, 2009. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced by any means, electronic or otherwise, without express permission of the authors.

Chapter 1

"I can't believe you're a fag!" 

The words echoed in Mack's head. His father sounded hurt and angry and confused and disappointed all at the same time. 

"I'm bi, dad, but I like guys better than girls." Mack said as if the explanation would make sense to his fifty-year-old father. 

"Bi? Bi!? Is that supposed to make a difference to me? Make me feel better? It still means you're takin' it up the ass or sucking cock, right? And what about AIDS?" Scott O'Brien's voice rose. "What about Amy? You two have been going out since your freshman year in high school." 

"Dad! I can't help how I am. Yeah, I like Amy and we've made out and I liked that and Amy doesn't have any hang ups about me likin' guys, she even thinks it's kinda cool. I like girls, but.." Mack seemed to run out of words. 

His dad rolled his eyes and continued. 

"But you'd rather get fucked by some flaming queer? I just don't understand you, son, you like football and hockey, you love trucks and I've seen the way you look at Cheryl Dunning. I always thought you were a man! You look and act like a man, not some limp-wristed queen." Scott said, that confused-disappointed sound still strong in his father's voice. "Does your mother know?" 

"I am a man, dad, and I like men who look and act like men, not queens." That last part slipped out, it was something Mack hadn't wanted to say because Scott was the quintessential man's man; a masculine, meat and potatoes, truck drivin', construction man with a full beard, a hairy chest and back, lots of muscle, and tats on his arms. He was the man Mack had measured every other man against since the age of five. 

Scott O'Brien's eyes widened as he realized something for the first time. 

"So that's why you liked football and poker nights with me and my buddies! Here I thought my son was interested in man stuff and you were just gettin' off lookin' at my buddies." Scott said and there was something new in his father's tone of voice and Mack knew exactly what that new element was -- disgust. "That's what's with the goatee too, isn't it?" Scott snorted and turned away. "I gotta get outta here before I say something I don't want to say." Scott said and grabbed his coat. "If your mother asks, I'm at Barney's, I need a beer or two to forget about this for awhile." With that his father left the house for the bar. 

Mack stood, dumbfounded; he went to his bedroom and, though he hadn't done it for years, he cried. He cried because the man he'd always loved had shoved a sword through his heart. 

That was a month ago and Mack, sitting on the bus now three days into his five day journey, still remembered it as if it had happened yesterday. He wondered if he would remember it as vividly twenty years from now. He thought he would; he thought he'd never be able to forget. 

He remembered how Officer Ryan brought his dad home that night because he'd met him outside the bar and talked him out of driving home dead drunk. He remembered his mom pouring his dad into bed and listening though the wall as his dad talked to his mom about him and how he was gay. Mack's mom, of course, knew; and had for a couple of years. Mothers are sometimes much more perceptive than fathers; and fathers sometimes are blind because they want or need to be. 

If only he'd heard his dad pull up in his truck or heard him come in the back door but he was too engrossed in the conversation he and Amy were having. If only he'd shut his door and his dad wouldn't have overheard him talking to Amy on the phone about being gay, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't be on his way to live with Uncle Russ out in California. Of course his dad would send him out to Uncle Russ; Uncle Russ was a sissy by dad's definition. 

He really had expected something like this to have happened earlier, in his senior year when he'd been caught hacking into the school's computer system. The school had called the police, and the police had brought him home. At the hearing, the judge had suggested probation since he hadn't actually caused any damage or changed any records. The school had accepted that, but it came with a string... no computer access during probation. Period. He had only done it to prove how piss-poor the school's firewalls were; but his parents had gone ballistic, especially his dad. It was his dad who had threatened sending him west the next time he'd gotten into trouble with the police, for hacking into the oil company's billing computer last winter. That time, he'd only wanted to reduce his family's heating bill so his mom wouldn't be so worried that they wouldn't be able to make it on his dad's reduced pay. His dad had threatened, "I swear to God, if you cause us any more trouble with the police, I WILL send you to live with your faggot uncle." It would be the ultimate punishment, in his father's eyes.

Mack remembered Uncle Russ differently. He remembered a strong masculine man not too different from his own father, except perhaps bigger, hairier, quieter and of course, gay. Uncle Russ' beard was longer, bushier and darker brown-red than his dad's lighter, auburn one. That same color was only slightly lighter on his chest and back and there was plenty of it too. Mack was fascinated by it and played with what poked out of his Uncle's shirt and his beard when he was much younger and Uncle Russ would hold him in his lap. Mack had really liked the feel of it. 

Mack remembered going down to the pond for a swim with his Uncle. When Uncle Russ asked, guessing the boy's secret, Mack admitted that he liked men; that big hairy men made him feel funny inside. He remembered admitting to his Uncle, with embarrassment, that yes, he had been admiring his Uncle's hairy shirtless chest and back. Yes, he liked the look and feel of his Uncles full bushy beard and yes, he had been looking at the impressive bulge in his Uncle's swim trunks. He remembered pleading with Uncle Russ not to tell anyone and his big burly Uncle took him into a gentle bare-chested bear hug that left Mack as hard as a rock. He briefly played with his Uncle's chest fur as he had done when he was a child. Uncle Russ assured him that his secret was safe and that if there ever came a time he needed to, he promised Mack could come out to California and live with him, if he liked. 

Well, now was the time to collect on that promise. Mack had nowhere else to go on short notice. His dad hadn't exactly kicked him out of the house, he'd just told him that he needed to get his own place in a couple of weeks; now that he was almost twenty-two and a 'man' and all. That had been said with a sneer. Mack had been saving a lot on rent by staying with his parents and to his credit it went directly into a savings account with only some of it going for food, truck payments and the occasional splurge. His dad rarely spoke to him, and avoided being in the same room with him. His relationship with him had cooled and was rigidly formal now; and Mack hated that. They'd been so close, going to football games, working on cars together, going fishing and now that wonderful closeness was gone. His father seemed to take some sort of perverse pleasure by lavishing that extra attention on his younger brother Billy who his father loudly proclaimed was 100% red-blooded male and would do him proud. 

Mack remembered how he'd left the only home he'd ever known three days ago. His dad had softened ever so slightly at the last and saw his eldest son off at the bus terminal with an extra $2,000 that Mack's mom had insisted on. 

He warned Mack not to flash his money and Mack took that as a somewhat hopeful sign, too. Mack had to sell his truck since there was no way he'd trust it on such a long journey with its mileage and its quirks. His personal belongings had been shipped out to Uncle Russ as freight, but even at freight rates it cost him a small fortune. His mom gave him a paid long distance phone card and made Mack promise to call every Sunday. 

"Son," Scott said looking deep into his eyes, "I don't understand you and I don't agree with your... lifestyle... if that's what you call it; but I don't wish you anything but goodness in your life." 

"I know that was hard for you, Dad." Mack paused, then said " I love you Dad." Mack hugged his father, and when the hug wasn't returned, they parted. Mack got on the bus and his parents looked on. His mother waved, his father just looked as the bus left. 

Mack sat toward the back of the mostly empty bus. He covered his head with his jacket and tried to sleep but failed. 'Time to grow up, I guess,' he thought to himself. 'I'm on my own now. I always wondered what it would be like. Guess I'll find out. Maybe Uncle Russ will have a computer I can work on.' Eventually he dozed off. 

Chapter 2

Russ O'Brien grunted as he bent over the heart of The Grrrizz. He was performing surgery and had been since five this morning. Jesse woke him up at four with a blow-job, his favorite way to wake up. Russ was hard as steel again, he always got that way when he worked on an engine. The precum stain on the front of his overalls was testimony to that. Russ was worked up and would love to push Jesse up against the ol' Bear right now, but work came first. There was no time for play, not now when the Bear needed him; play could wait until a long lunch break. Sweat ran down Russ' furry back, matting the fur down; underneath his one-piece mechanic's overalls his pits were soaking. The stump of an unlit cigar rolled around in his mouth as he torqued down a bolt. It was 9 a.m. and it was already getting hot in Bakersfield, even with the garage doors open and the morning breeze. He wore nothing beneath the overalls during the summer and though he had the front zipper down to just below his nipples, he was still too hot. 

Ol' Grrrizz, one of the mightiest metallic monsters on the monster truck circuit had broken an axle at the last rally in the Phoenix Mega-Dome. The engine had thrown a couple of rods; Russ knew it was the nitro mix and could have kicked himself black and blue for not getting the more expensive computerized regulator Jesse had wanted to get. Ol' Grrrizz had made the jump, which is what the crowd had paid to see, but the faithful ol' Bear had to be hauled home. He limped out of the arena, badly wounded. In the end, what he paid for in new parts was quite a few times the price of that regulator; still, Grrrizz had brought home the bacon, just not as much as he might have, but enough to pay the mortgage, utilities and food. The bills for the parts had to come out of the profits. 

He and Jesse had hauled the wounded Bear back here and had just finished the heart and bone transplants needed to get the big Bear back and prowling two weeks from now in Colorado. All things considered, it wasn't too bad. Each time he and Jesse worked on the Bear, they came up with new ideas to improve on him. They had talked about tearing Grrrizz apart and rebuilding him from almost scratch several times as they lay in bed; it was an odd sort of pillow talk. Jesse, of course, knew how aroused his burly daddy got when they discussed rebuilding the Bear from the ground up; it was kind of foreplay between the two. Something about working on cars and trucks pushed Russ' buttons the way talking dirty turned other guys on. Jesse didn't understand it, but he was sure going to use it. 

"There!" Russ growled around his cigar as he held the match to the end and puffed it to life, "It's done!" Russ pulled on the cigar and then released billows of bluish smoke. He stood back and looked at the engine with a certain sense of accomplishment and pride. "Now all we have to do is tune the ol' Bear up and install that high priced new nitro regulator." 

"Yeah, if you'd done that before, ol' man, we wouldn't be fuckin' around with repairs now." Jesse taunted. 

"Yeah, well fuck you Jesse Alvarez!" Russ growled, turning his gaze from the engine to his smugly grinning partner. 

"Any time you're ready, you furry ol' bastard! You want some of this, anciano?" Russ' eyes flared bright blue as Jesse said this. Jesse turned his ass to the big man and bent forward just slightly, showing off his rump. Jesse knew the "ol' bastard" comment had done the trick. 

Within seconds burly arms wrapped themselves under Jesse's strong, well muscled arms, hands knitted together behind the smaller man's neck locking him in a full nelson. 

Russ rumbled in his ear, cigar smoke puffing into Jesse's ear with each word. "What'd you say, Cub?" 

In playful defiance Jesse shot back, "You heard me, Oso! We're wastin'' time here because you wouldn't listen to me, viejo." 

Russ pulled the smaller man to his body, squeezing him tighter with his arms as he pushed his head forward bending his neck so that his chin touched his chest. Jesse loved this rough play and so did Russ. Jesse could feel the big bear's hard cock against his rump. The pounding of Russ' strong heart against his back, even through their overalls, the hot smoky breath on his ear and the low threatening growl of his love had Jesse ready to be fucked. 

"You talkin' back to your daddy, cachorro? You a bear now? Huh, Cub?" Russ hissed. 

"Damn right I'm a bear you old fart, a big, hairy, muscled out, bearded bear." Jesse said as he wrapped his arms around the big man's forearms and began rubbing Russ' inner leg with his own. 

"Is that so?" Russ said in mock curiosity and squeezed Jesse even harder. Jesse felt the bear's muscles flexing. Russ pushed his cock into the small of Jesse's back, dry humping him in slow deliberate strokes. 

"Yeah, that's so. I am a bear!" Jesse growled back and then, softly, sweetly he continued "...but I'm your Cub, Oso." 

Immediately Russ released Jesse from his hold, spun the smaller Hispanic man about pushing him against the recovering Grrrizz with a bang; Russ paused and looked deeply into Jesse's brown eyes. He sniffed at him like a carnivore about to feed. He growled lowly again and said in a deep rumble, "That's what I wanted to hear." 

He took a deep drag on the cigar and pulled it out of his mouth and then forced his tongue down Jesse's throat. 

Russ thought, 'So, what the Hell? We'll take an early long lunch.' As Jesse began unzipping the bigger man's overalls, hauling out the huge, wet cock, Russ fed Jesse his spit and the smoke. 

Russ peeled Jesse out of his one-piece with efficiency born of practice. Jesse was also naked and sweaty under his overalls; he also dispensed with underwear during the hot months. He broke their kiss and completely removed Jesse's work clothes. Putting the cigar back in his mouth and puffed; he paused a moment to admire his mate. Jesse smiled and flexed various muscle groups as Russ ran his rough hands over his lover. 

When Russ first made love to him, Jesse was smooth, almost hairless. Now Jesse had lots of silky black fur on his chest and back. His silky black beard was thick and looked so beautiful against his light brown skin. His Aztec style bear tattoo on his left upper arm was covered in fur. 

Russ grunted and pulled on his cigar. He gave his lover another smoky kiss and when they parted a string of spit hung between their mouths briefly before Russ drew on his cigar again. Jesse began stroking him hard and in moments had covered Russ' cock in its own precum. Russ was slick now with his clear lube and Jesse nuzzled his cock up to his lover's and began stroking them together, covering his thick manhood with Russ' fluid. Russ drooled out more precum than anyone Jesse had ever known; Russ never needed artificial lube when he was aroused. Jesse, of course, was adding his copious flow to their stiff rods. 

Russ groaned and then growled out, "Get in the back of the truck." 

An hour or so later, the two lay naked and satisfied next to each other on a mattress Russ kept in the shop and had thrown into the pickup bed of the ol' Bear after they'd come back from the show. The back end of Grrrizz was a favorite place to fuck for Russ. Russ, spooned around Jesse with his cock still firmly planted in his furry ass was alternately stroking the smaller man's soft silky beard and playing with his dense chest fur, twirling the beard and chest hair between his meaty fingers. Russ had smoked his morning cigar while fucking Jesse and was now puffing on the remains of a second, offering Jesse a drag now and then. 

"So, how soon until your nephew gets here?" Jesse said, changing the subject from what else needed to be done to Grrrizz. 

"He'll be out here at the end of the week, maybe a day or two after that. I talked to Sam and he agreed to hop on his bus in Georgia. He'll ride it with Mack until they reach Flagstaff, by then Mack will probably trust him enough to get on the back of that rattle trap Sam calls a Hawg to ride out here." Russ said. 

"Why Flagstaff?" Jesse asked taking a drag on the cigar and handing it back. 

"Sam wants to get off the bus and take Mack out to see the Grand Canyon; spend a couple of days with him, just the two of them." Russ said as he took the cigar back. "He'll pick up his bike, and if my nephew's on the back of that bike, breathing in that bear's scent, it's gonna make it that much easier for Mack here. It'll accustom him to bear scent." 

"You think Sam will fuck him?" Jesse asked. 

"I dunno. You and I have been fuckin' with Sam for years now, every time he stops by, and Mack sure looks enough like me. That might push Sam's buttons. Hell, Mack looks like I did at his age, when Sam broke me in, and the kid is gonna find Sam damned near irresistible. You know from personal experience what our pheromones can do. When you first came to work for me you did your best to resist it. You were quite a little hot head and wouldn't listen to a thing I told you. I woulda fired your ass, if I didn't find it so damned hot. After a couple of months, though, that body stink of mine did the trick. I watched you get more and more agreeable as you began to accept me as a dominant. Probably woulda happened sooner if you weren't as feisty. 

Jesse laughed, "Yeah, I was a handful. You know, I didn't really like fat hairy white guys before you, but that scent of yours; I didn't know why but I just wanted to get closer to you. I started seein' you in a new light and decided I might like fat hairy white guys after all. Sneaky ol' bastard. Luring an innocent young Latino man into your den and messin' with his mind like that. You should be ashamed." Jesse said with mock reproach. Jesse squeezed on Russ' cock with his ass muscles and Russ growled appreciatively in his ear. 

"Yeah, I hooked you and reeled you in. You complainin', boy?" Russ asked in mock anger.

"Nah, people get together all the time because of chemistry. There ain't nothin' wrong with falling in love with someone after they've got your attention with their natural gifts." Jesse said, "But I know what Mack's gonna go through. He's gonna keep wondering why he's attracted to Sam and won't know why he's being so agreeable." 

"Yeah, I can imagine what it's gonna be like for Mack. He already likes fat hairy white guys." Russ said with a chuckle, "I told you about the time Mack and I were at the swimming hole and he got a little boy boner." 




Mack



Jesse nodded, remembering the tale of how Mack had been so fascinated by Russ' half-naked body at the pond. 

"Sam will have him eatin' out of his hand after he's got him on the back of that bike of his. They'll be out in the desert and Sam will be sweatin' up a storm, wearin' nothin' but that ratty black Harley tank top he likes. Mack's gonna get a constant nose full of Sam's armpit stink. Then again, Sam might get all protective and paternal toward him in his role as protector. You know how he gets, all 'Papa Grizzly' like when he's being the knight guardian of his ward; it's that 'code of honor' he talks about. It's funny, I haven't quite figured out when that 'code' applies to someone he's protecting and when it doesn't." Russ pulled deeply on the very last of the cigar and stubbed it out on a piece of scrap sheet metal in the pickup bed. 

He turned Jesse's head toward him and bent his neck so that their mouths met and then filled his lover's lungs with the smoke as he deep kissed him. They traded the smoke back and forth until they both needed air. 

When they parted, Russ smacked Jesse hard on his furry butt and smiled. 

"What the Hell was that for?" Jesse asked and rubbed the reddening paw print on his ass with a smile on his face. 

"That's for being disrespectful of your elders! 'Ol' bastard', indeed!" Russ growled. 

"Got your motor runnin' didn't it, Oso?" Jesse teased as Russ began to pull out. 

"Yeah, it sure did." Russ bent down and bit Jesse's shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise. Jesse grunted in pain and moaned in pleasure. 

"Papi!"Jesse sighed. 

Russ released his bite hold and gently swatted his lover on the butt. He wasn't completely out of Jesse just yet and he was still "hungry". 

'What the fuck, another ten minutes won't make that big a difference in the schedule.' Russ thought as he pushed his cock back into Jesse and began piston fucking his lover. 

He pushed Jesse's head down to the mattress and pumped into him; with his other hand he reached around and began stroking his mate's rod, his sweaty, hairy chest and belly rubbing against Jesse's furry back. 

"Harder ol' man!" Jesse growled as Russ sped up. Jesse was milking Russ, clenching his muscles as Russ pulled out to the base of his glans and releasing as Russ thrust back in. Russ thanked God daily he had found such a talented lover. 

Jesse raised up, pushing them both into a more horizontal position. "Bite me!" 

Russ did just that, he bit into the shoulder he'd just bitten minutes ago. 

With that, Jesse lost it. "Fuck!" Jesse growled. 

He exploded all over the mattress, setting Russ off who exploded inside of Jesse with a roar that would do any Grizzly proud. 

Russ collapsed on Jesse and Jesse crumpled beneath his larger, heavier lover. They lay there for ten more minutes. Russ kissed and licked Jesse's ears, neck and shoulders, tasting his sweat. Nuzzling him until they'd both caught their breath again. 

Russ pulled out and growled, "Let's get dressed and back at it, cachorro, it's almost eleven and we've got more to do before our actual lunch break." 

Chapter 3

On the third day of his journey, as he was napping with his earphones plugged into his iPod, Mack was dreaming. He was sitting at his computer and exploring a new system he'd hacked into. He'd always had a fascination for computer networks and systems design. It was almost like he could feel how a programmer had constructed a system. He was just at the point of understanding where this particular programmer had concealed his back doors when he felt someone sit in the seat next to him. He opened his eyes to see an incredibly large broad-shouldered man adjusting the seat next to his. This made Mack a bit nervous; the man not only was really large, he was dressed in kind of worn clothes and Mack wondered if some bum had scraped enough money together to buy a bus ticket. Mack, up until this point, hadn't had another passenger sit next to him and was not too pleased to have one now. 

The bus had been empty enough so that people were spread out, but as Mack looked around he noticed the bus was now close to full. The last stop that he remembered was somewhere in north Alabama; this stop was in St. Louis, Missouri. 

Mack was sizing up the new passengers, always careful to look for potential trouble, when his thoughts were interrupted. 

"Mornin'!" the huge man next to him said and extended what could only be called a 'paw' due to it's size and the amount of hair on the back of it, "The name's Sam, Sam Adams, just like the beer!" The man laughed; his green-gray eyes even in the dim light of the bus twinkling merrily. 

"Or President John Adams cousin, right?" Mack said, carefully taking the proffered hand. Sam's huge warm paw closed over Mack's hand enveloping it. Mack noticed a slight musky scent from Sam, not like he hadn't bathed in a week, but certainly like he hadn't bathed this morning. Mack's nose was far from offended; he liked men, real men, and male scent was part of that. Still, Sam had a sort of 'animal' smell about him and Mack guessed that he might have spent a couple of nights outside, sleeping with a friendly mutt for warmth. 

"Right! Hey, you're a pretty smart! Yep, that Sam Adams was also a Governor of Massachusetts." Sam said with a deep chuckle. "How do you know so much about early American history?" Sam asked. 

Mack smiled, "I paid attention in history class when we studied the Revolutionary War." 

Sam laughed, "Yeah, they teach you a bit about the Revolutionary War, don't they?" He said and got a far away look in his eye for a moment. Sam sort of shook his head and came back from wherever he'd wandered in his thoughts. 

"It's not many young men that pay attention to what they're being taught. You can learn a lot from history if you're paying attention. Trust me, I know." Sam said. 

Sam's voice was pleasantly low and Mack though rather sexy, like Barry White if Barry White sounded like a big hairy white guy. The sound of his voice and the sincere and open manner he had was starting to turn Mack on. 

Then there were his looks; his bushy brown beard hung down to his belly. His hair was long, down to his lower back and braided. He wore a black leather Oakland Raiders baseball cap and a black leather jacket that looked like it was at least as old as Mack was and as worn as his boots. His red and black plaid flannel shirt was so old it was threadbare and the colors had faded to a dark shade of pink and gray, but it looked warm and comfortable over his new black T-shirt. His jeans were faded, had holes in them and were tucked into his well-worn black engineer boots. The boots were scuffed but looked like they'd been resoled recently. Mack knew that good pair of boots to some men was like a good friend with which you wouldn't want to part. Sam's boots looked like tough old friends he'd known for decades. 

Sam seemed to like to talk and it was odd, but Mack wanted to talk too, even though most of the time he wasn't much for conversation. Sam had a way about him that seemed to draw you into conversation. Part of it was that Sam didn't treat him like a kid who didn't know anything, like most men did when talking to someone just out of their teens. As the minutes stretched into a half-hour and a half-hour stretched into two hours, Sam talked quietly to Mack about everything from ancient history before the rise of Rome to the latest metal bands. Mack was surprised that a middle aged man who looked like Sam did would know so much about the tunes he was listening to or about computers or anything about pop culture. 

Mack was amazed at all that Sam knew. He realized that Sam was not one of those guys who were stuck in his high school 'glory days', he wasn't like those men who bemoaned the passing of their football careers. The men who were living as if their senior year never ended, listening almost exclusively to the music that was the theme song of their late teens and early twenties. 

Sam was savvy about many things. He wasn't 'hip'; indeed, if he tried to be like someone of Mack's age, it would look silly on Sam. What Sam was, was cool. He didn't just skim the surface on topics, he knew about them on deeper levels and that applied to the 'latest' things guys of Mack's age were into. 

Sam had a really friendly way about him that was quickly winning Mack over. Despite his size and unapproachable looks, he made Mack feel comfortable and on top of all of that, Sam looked like a big, shaggy, shabby, teddy bear; at least he did now that Mack had gotten to know him. 

Mack was yawning, it was 2 a.m. and Sam picked up on the young man's sleepiness. He suggested that it might be a good idea to stretch out as much as possible and catch some sleep. Sam adjusted his own seat and from the pocket of his jacket he pulled a paperback sci-fi novel. 

"I'll just read for a bit." He said to Mack as he turned on an overhead light, "I'll wake you when we get to a food stop." 

"Thanks!" Mack said though a yawn. He pulled his coat up to his neck, leaned back and put the earphones back in; soon he was asleep. 

When Mack awoke he found he was leaning against Sam with his head against the big man's shoulder. His headphones were out and blaring music; he must have removed them in his sleep. Mack was embarrassed at his position and wanted to see if Sam was awake. He carefully turned his head so he could look up at Sam's face. Mack could barely see Sam's face through the bushy beard, but he managed to and fortunately, Sam was sleeping soundly. Mack was spared the embarrassment of explaining why he was 'cuddled up' to the big man. Sam with his book in his lap didn't stir when Mack lifted his head from the shoulder he was leaning on. He checked his watch, it was 5 a.m. and the bus was still on the road. Sam didn't acgtually snore, but his deep breathing had a little volume, like a kind of white noise; Mack found the steady rhythm and sound level comforting. Mack made himself comfortable in his seat, leaning against the window with his head propped with his jacket. He put the headphones back in and returned to dreaming. 

It was 6:30 when Mack next woke; someone was gently shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes, Sam was saying something but he didn't catch it over the Brand New Sin playing in his ears. He turned the music off and said "What?" 

Sam smiled through his bushy beard and mustache, "I said, we're at a rest stop, you wanna get somthin' ta eat?" 

"Yeah, thanks!" Mack said. He was a bit groggy and had morning wood he didn't want Sam to see, but thought that perhaps Sam might have anyway. Being that his coat, which usually covered his torso and lap, was being used for a pillow he guessed his erection might have been very visible to the bearish man. 

"Well come on, we've only got an hour an' a half." Sam said in his deep resonant voice and began to get up. 

"OK, I wanna put a couple of things away and then I'll be right there." Mack said. 

Sam grunted in agreement, looked at Mack's lap and chuckled. "Yeah, put stuff away." Then he winked. He got up and proceeded down the aisle. 

Mack needed a few minutes to adjust his cock so it wasn't obvious he was hard and to allow his embarrassed flush to disappear. He also needed to piss and thought it best to take care of that in the bus restroom. 

Five minutes later Mack was off the bus and looking around. It was a small Midwestern town, he wasn't sure where and didn't much care. Most towns in the Midwest looked the same and had just about the same kinds of businesses. There was a diner across the street from the small bus terminal. He could see through the windows that Sam was inside the terminal using a cell phone. 

Mack's stomach growled and he decided to try the diner where many of the passengers had already gone. 

The place was called Joe's Diner, just like in all the old cartoons there was "Eat at Joe's" underneath the name. The place had a retro 50s feel to it, but Mack realized that the retro in this instance was more like original to the business, and not an attempt at nostalgia. It did look like the place had perhaps been spruced up within the last few years or so. Mack walked in and was shown to a booth. Not more than two minutes later Sam came in. Mack saw him come through the door and got his first good estimate at Sam's size; Sam almost filled the diner's chrome and glass door. Mack guessed Sam to be about six and a half feet tall as the door was probably a little under seven and Sam was a few inches under the top of the frame. Sam's shoulders must have been about three feet across because there wasn't much room on either side for the bearish man to get through. Sam ambled in with an easy unhurried gait and sat across from Mack just as the waitress arrived. 

She pulled another menu from a nearby empty table and asked, "You fellas together or on separate tickets?" 

Sam smiled and said, "Yeah, separate tickets. Could you bring me some coffee, strong an' black? How strong is the coffee?" Sam asked. 

"We got two pots, one is for most folks and the other is strong enough to peel paint; it's for the truckers. Which would you like?" 

"Give me the paint remover, please." Sam said and chuckled. 

"And what would you like?" the waitress asked Mack. 

"Coffee, cream and sugar please," Mack said. "...and not from the paint remover pot, please." 

The waitress smiled. "I'll give you fellas a moment or two to look over the menu and I'll be back with the coffee." 

They both looked over the menu; Sam grunted here and there as he looked over the choices for breakfast. Mack decided on pancakes, bacon and eggs almost immediately. It took Sam a moment or two longer and then he put down the menu. About that time the waitress arrived with the coffee. 

"Are you ready to order?" She asked. 

Sam indicated that Mack should go first and Mack placed his order. 

"And what would you like, sir?" the waitress asked Sam. 

"I'll have the five stack pancake breakfast with a double side of sausage an' I'd also like the hash browns, eggs an' bacon breakfast." Sam paused and smiled. 

"Is there anything else you'd like?" the waitress asked and Mack could tell that she wasn't surprised that Sam was ordering two breakfasts. Men Sam's size probably did that on occasion. 

"Yeah, I'd like the apple pie ala mode after, double scoop of French vanilla and whipped cream." Sam said and looked across the table at Mack with that same self-satisfied grin as if to say, 'Yeah, I can eat it all, you just wait and see.' 

The waitress took the menus and left. 

"Ya gotta put a lot of gas in the tank when you're as big as I am." Sam said to Mack and sipped his coffee. 

"I guess so." Mack said, smiling. 

"Well, a bear like me has'ta think about winter." Sam said and winked, which made Mack laugh. 

Before the meal arrived, Sam asked Mack where he was headed and Mack explained that he was going out to California to stay with his uncle. Mack then asked Sam where he was headed, if he didn't mind. 

Sam chuckled, "I'm headed as far as Flagstaff, then I'm on my hawg out to California too. If you'd like, I've got room on the back of it for you." 

"Well," Mack paused but thought fast, "I don't know. Maybe." Mack barely knew this hulking bear. Sam, watching his face, could read the young man's thoughts. 

'He's smart to be cautious, not all young'uns are,' Sam thought. "Tell ya what. If you don't trust me by Flagstaff, then you just stay on the bus," Sam said. 

Before Mack could answer the food arrived. 

Mack was truly amazed at just how much food arrived. His own plate, he could tell, was going to stuff him. Sam's plates would have fed Mack four times. 

Sam grunted in pleasure as he dug into his meal and commented more than a few times on how good the food was. 

"If y'ever have a question about how good the food is at a restaurant, jus' look to see who's eating there. If there's truckers an' bikers eatin' there, you can be pretty sure it's good food, at good prices with generous portions." Sam said and took another bite of pancakes. 

Mack nodded and agreed. The food really was good. 

The time was getting close to when they would have to board the bus again, but Sam was finished, pie and all, before Mack was. 

The checks came and Sam pulled out a fat wallet attached to a chain from his back pocket. Mack and Sam both left a generous tip and paid for their meals at the cashier's station. 

The bus was boarding and before they got on Sam turned to Mack and said quietly, "Look, I'm gonna make a promise to you." 

Mack was somewhat surprised that Sam would do such a personal thing with someone he'd known less than a day. 

"As long as I'm traveling with you, I promise you'll be safe." Sam said. 

They boarded the bus and took their seats. 

Sam pulled out his book and began to read; Mack interrupted him. "Why did you promise to protect me?" 

Sam smiled, "Because, you remind me of someone I know, someone I met when he was about your age; someone I care a whole lot about. I know you don't know me, but I swear I'd never harm you Mack, you have my word on that." 

Sam went back to reading his book, leaving Mack to ponder their exchange. Mack rubbed his cheeks, rubbing the soft stubble of a young beard on his face gave him a certain sense of pleasure. He played a little with his goatee as he listened to some more music and looked out the window at the mostly uninteresting scenery as it rolled by. 

Chapter 4

Mack and Sam talked more as their journey continued. It helped to pass the time; even Sam's book and Mack's iPod and Gameboy got tiresome after awhile. It was around three in the afternoon when the bus pulled into a station. They would change busses here. Mack put on his coat so it would be fewer things for him to carry in. Sam seemed to travel lighter, he didn't even have a suitcase; the only clothes he seemed to have were the ones he was wearing. 

They were somewhere in Oklahoma City at the bus terminal, Mack and Sam headed inside. Sam's cell rang and he said he'd meet Mack inside in the café. Sam stood outside, talking on his phone. Mack walked into the terminal, looking for which bay held the bus to LA and Bakersfield. 

Inside the terminal, a wiry, somewhat seedy looking man with ash brown hair, a thin mousy brown mustache, and a couple days worth of stubble was looking through the group of new arrivals through hazel eyes. He was sizing them up, seeing which would be an easy mark. There were several women who looked like easy prey, but Chris Smart preferred to follow a young man into the bathroom and rob them when their pants were down; literally. Chris had been doing this in various bus terminals in other cities in Texas, Oklahoma, Missouri, Colorado and Arkansas. He had scored quite a bit, stealing identities and using their credit cards. Often they had cash, too. Terminals like these were easy. Security was usually not that great; people traveling by bus or train usually didn't have as much money, but they were far more vulnerable than those at airports. Chris was too smart to go after someone there. A few credit cards and a wallet full of cash wasn't worth being nailed as a terrorist. Bus terminals were the best; all he had to do was hang out for a day or so to learn the rhythms and see how lax the security was. This one had an elderly guy who was pretty strict, but he watched the lobby during the graveyard shift. At the moment, some love struck kid had the shift and he was at this moment in the café trying to get in one of the waitress' pants. This meant that now would be a good time to look for potential victims. 

Chris waited until his mark went to the bathroom; if the place was empty and the mark was using a urinal, he'd put a knife to his throat while he took his wallet. He would pull the guy's pants down, push him over and before the victim could recover he'd be gone. Sometimes Chris kicked in the stall door and, using their surprise to his advantage, point a knife in their face and demand their valuables. 




Mack



The scruffy looking kid with the goatee who just came off the bus didn't look all that vulnerable, but he was alone, and he guarded that backpack just a little too well. Chris figured that any valuables he might have were in it, but he checked out his rear just to be sure. The kid didn't have the bulge of a wallet in his back pocket; it must be in the backpack not the suitcase. The way the kid held the small soft-sided suitcase told Christ that there wasn't anything in there worth stealing. Chris followed him into the bathroom and sure enough, the kid went into a stall. Chris took the stall next to his and waited. Most of the men in the bathroom, Chris knew, would use the urinals and be gone in few moments. Some of the guys coming off these busses, like this kid, spent awhile in the stalls, taking a long dump or jacking off or better still, both. This meant that those who might also be using the stalls would be in the middle of something during his attack and those that just had to take a piss would be long gone, probably in the nearest food vendor or on a telephone. Chris knew better than to try this kind of thing when there was more than a couple of buses arriving at the same time as there would be too many men using the restroom. 

Chris waited and sure enough, the crowd in the restroom thinned out and left. Chris waited a little longer for stragglers, but none came in. He made noises like he was wiping and buckled up, flushed and left. Just outside the door, Chris paused and looked around. No one was headed toward the bathroom, the lobby was generally clear, lover boy with the security badge was still trying to get some action and other than his mark in the bathroom, it was empty. Perfect! 

Wasting no time, Chris went back into the men's room and stopped outside of the stall. He raised a foot and kicked hard. The door was weak and caved in easily, much more easily than Chris had expected. It usually took twice before the door buckled and gave way. 

Inside the stall, Mack was cleaning himself. He looked up, at first shocked. The intruder seemed to know exactly what he was after. He broke in, scanned the stall and took the backpack while Mack had just managed to shout in indignation. 

The thief pointed a blade at Mack's chest and said, "Stick your legs out straight in front of you!" Mack hesitated and the thief moved the knife toward Mack's throat and repeated his demand. Mack glared at him, then complied. The thief then pulled the waistband of the jeans and underwear down, turning the legs inside out until Mack's feet were inside the jeans. He grabbed a long cable zip tie from his pants pocket, this was something new he was trying and hoped it would work. He handed it to the kid and put the knife point right at his Adam's apple. 

"Put it around your ankles and zip it up and you won't get hurt, get it?" Chris hissed and moved the knife to the side of the kid's throat to allow him to follow the order. 

Mack angrily complied. 

Chris knew the kid would be too embarrassed to hop out naked into the lobby after him and that it would take him the better part of a minute to get a pocket knife out to cut the cable tie. He'd be out the door by then. 

"Nice doin' business with ya!" Chris laughed. 

The thief, having grabbed the backpack and temporarily immobilizing his victim, now made a quick move to the exit. He reached the restroom door, the kid yelling obscenities after him and trying to free himself. Chris opened the door quietly, putting the knife in his pocket, and looked out into the lobby. No one was between him and the exit, in fact the lobby was empty except for people on the phone and they weren't paying attention to the yells coming from the bathroom. The homeless came into the terminal to use the bathrooms and it wasn't unusual for some of the less mentally stable to yell and carry on in the bathroom. Chris moved quickly to the lobby doors and made his way out. 

From out of nowhere a huge hand grabbed his shoulder as he quickly rounded the corner into a side alley. The hand swiftly pulled him into a half nelson hold, another leather clad arm wrapped around his throat. The voice was calm, icy cold, and deep. "Drop the pack or I'll gut you, right here on the street." 

"Let me go, fucker!" Chris managed to squeak out. 

"Drop the pack and I won't break your scrawny little neck." The voice said and now there was a deeper tone to it and a very low growl followed the command. The grip around Chris' neck tightened and he could feel the blood being cut off. 

Chris reached for the knife in his pocket. 

"Not a good idea." The deepening voice said coldly. Almost conversationally it continued, "You couldn't stick me fast enough before I snapped your neck." The pressure increased.

Seeing that he was getting nowhere, and that this guy was probably insane enough to do just what he suggested; Chris removed his hand from his pocket slowly, without the knife. 

Chris raised his hand in full view of the ape that had a death grip on his arm and was firmly pushing up on it behind his back. He grabbed the shoulder strap of the pack and dropped the pack gently to the ground. Immediately the grip was released and he was shoved away, sending him tumbling to the ground. Chris turned to see a huge bearded man dressed like a biker scooping up the backpack. The guy had to be four feet across at the shoulder and at least seven and a half feet tall, his fear magnifying the biker's size. He looked mean too, and even if he wasn't as big as Chris' fear made him, he was more than big enough. Chris decided to cut his losses and make a run for it. 

"Now get the fuck out of here before I decide to make you my special project." The huge man said in no more than a normal speaking voice. 

Chris stumbled to his feet and ran, rubbing his bruised throat. 

By the time Mack had managed to get himself free and put his clothes back in order so that he could go after the thief he was sure the guy was many blocks away. He rushed out of the bathroom, his suitcase in hand, only to find Sam standing there, holding his backpack. 

"I think ya lost somethin'?" Sam said with a huge grin on his face. 

He handed the backpack to the young man. Mack took the pack and impulsively grabbed Sam around the middle as far around as he could reach and gave him a tight hug. 

"Thanks, man!" Mack said and Sam wrapped his huge arms around the young man and hugged him back. 

"My pleasure!" Sam replied. 

With his nose so close to Sam's chest, he took in the big man's scent. There was that musky 'animal' scent again, mixed with the smell of unwashed male. The undertone scent seemed stronger, but oddly for a young man who'd never made love with another man, he found the musky male scent sent excited chills down his spine that went straight to his balls and made them tingle. Mack was getting hard and moved to break the hug strategically, yet casually, moving the pack between his crotch and Sam's eyes long enough so that his erection could subside. 

Sam released Mack from the embrace and Mack looked up into the big man's face. Sam was only about a foot taller than Mack, but at this moment, he seemed like a giant, a god, a savior who had just found Mack's dignity and returned it to him. 

"How...?" Mack began and Sam cut him off. 

"I caught the guy as he was runnin' out the door. I saw him from the outside makin' a B-line for the doors an' saw he had your backpack. I stepped over behind the brickwork so he couldn't see me an' waited. He wasn't too reluctant when I asked him nicely for it." 

Sam smiled innocently though his bushy mustache, his white teeth gleaming. 

"Look, Mack, I think it would be best if I rented a car an' you an' I head out to Flagstaff so I can pick up my scoot instead of riding the dog any more. Then you can ride out to Bakersfield sittin' behind me... there's nothin' like seein' the country on a hawg." Sam said merrily. 

"I dunno, shouldn't we file a police report or something?" Mack said. 

"On that guy?" Sam asked with a little laugh, "Why? He's an amateur, he almost got caught this time an' he'll probably be caught soon enough." 

"But..." Mack began and Sam cut him off. 

"Look, I really don't wanna delay my trip by sitting in a police station filling out reports. Do you? You got your pack back, he's probably not going to try ta do that again soon an' if he does, he's someone else's problem. He's probably crawled back under whatever rock he came from by now. Forget about him. Look, come with me! A car is gonna be a whole lot more comfortable than that bus." Sam said. 

"Sam, we just met yesterday, I hardly know you." Mack said. 

"Yeah? Well actually we met about twenty years ago, Mack. Had a piece of your birthday cake, watched you blow out the candle. If I remember right, the cake hand clowns on it. I remember it was chocolate with cherry cream filling. I'm sure you don't remember me, but I remember you. I'm very good friends with your Uncle Russ, real good friends." Sam said. "I'm gonna cut through the cloak and dagger stuff, here's my proof." 

Sam took out the cell phone and dialed a number. He waited and then said, "Hey Russ, it's Sam. Look, Mack here is kinda reluctant to ride with me an' I suppose that's to be expected." there was a pause as Sam listened, "No, we're not in Amarillo. Oklahoma City, I'll explain later when we have time to talk. Here, I'm putting Mack on, tell him I'm on the up an' up, OK?" There was another pause, "Yeah, it'll make our trip faster an' more comfortable. Tell him about the birthday, when you an' your homophobic brother were still talkin', right before your dad died." 

Sam handed the phone to Mack and sure enough, his Uncle Russ answered. 

"Hey Mack!" Russ' cheerful voice came through the phone. 

"Hi Uncle Russ." 

"Look, Mack, you can trust Sam. He was with me when I visited you on your third birthday, but you probably don't remember. He looked different then too, clean shaved, short hair and in a black business suit." Russ said and Mack searched his memory. He vaguely remembered a large man in a dark suit, but always thought that was another uncle, one of his mom's brothers. His mom's side were better off than his dad's, his Uncle Richard owned his own successful medical practice. He was used to seeing his mom's brothers dressed up. 

"I asked Sam if he wouldn't mind traveling with you out to California when I knew you were coming. He was back east and agreed to come out with you." Russ said. 

"Why?" Mack asked. 

"Because I thought it might be best. I love you Mack, you're my favorite nephew, I wanted someone watching over you. Sam thought it was a good idea too." Russ said. "Are you OK with that, Mack? Sam will take good care of you." 

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm OK with that... you both were doing what you thought was right." Mack said. 

"Look, Mack, I've gotta run. I'll see you when you get here, OK?" Russ said. 

"Yeah, OK, Uncle Russ." Mack said. 

"I love you Mack, remember that. Now, I gotta go, g'bye." Russ said. 

"OK, I will, g'bye." Mack said and the phone disconnected. 

Mack handed the phone back to Sam. 

"See, Mack, I'm really not a stranger. You're uncle cares a lot about you an' I was literally in the neighborhood. I gave him a call from Virginia 'bout the time you told him you were comin' out on the bus an' he asked me if I'd keep an eye on you." Sam said 

"Look, I don't need protection. I'm not a kid anymore." Mack said and Sam could tell he was hurt. 

"I know you are. You're a grown man, goatee an' all with a couple days scruff on your face too, but even a combat veteran needs a buddy to watch his back in a fight. It's not that your uncle doesn't think you're a man. Russ figured I was big enough to discourage anyone from muggin' you. That punk who stole your pack is the kind of thing I'm here for. I'm your buddy, I'm here ta make your trip easier." Sam smiled a big toothy smile. 

"Oh, but you don't need an escort?" Mack said and the illogic of what he'd just said was obvious even to him. 

Sam replied tolerantly,"No, not usually; most people give me a wide path an' those that don't are either my friends, stupid, or they've got a whole lot of tough to back them up. That guy who stole your pack was probably waitin' for someone like you. He was waitin' for someone a little younger than he was who looked inexperienced an' right now, that's how you look to predators. They figure if they can get you alone, they can take you. Trust me, if he'd harmed you, I'd be hunting him now. He might end up in a hole somewhere where no one's gonna find him until they do archaeological digs on early twenty first century trash heaps. Course, there are other things I could do so's they wouldn't even find bits of him." Sam said and his voice was soft, calm and beautifully resonant; it held patience; great, respectful patience. There was not a hint of malice or anger in his voice as he talked of these things in a matter-of-fact way; but his eyes were hard and cold and there was a flatness in them that Mack had not seen; and it made his blood run cold for a moment. 

Mack realized Sam was more than what he looked like. Sam could be a killer and more than likely he was something on par with a Green Beret or Navy Seal; not a hit man, because his vibe just now was very definitely 'commando' not mob enforcer. Sam was hard core; but hard core what? Mack wanted to withdraw his protest at being escorted. Of course this bearish man didn't need an escort, he was the sort of man which other people needed an armed escort to protect them from. 

Sam's face softened as he watched the realization of what he potentially was cross Mack's face. The boy was quick. Less than two days and Mack was already making some good guesses about Sam's real nature. How long would it be before Mack realized something a little more basic about him? He would let Mack solve that for himself, even if it was pretty obvious. Perhaps the kid didn't think bearded hulking macho men were capable of that? No, he probably suspected nothing, yet. The macho men he'd been exposed to all his life probably weren't. Then of course, there was the final matter of Sam's truest nature, but by the time Mack discovered that, it most likely wouldn't make any difference. It hadn't for his Uncle Russ and the kid was like his uncle was in his twenties. Sam had to be gentle; hitting Mack square across the face with truths about the nature of his huge traveling companion this soon might be just a bit too disturbing for one so young and relatively innocent, however much potential he had. 

Mack looking up into Sam's face took stock of what he found there. He was handsome and he was smiling at him in a gentle, almost fatherly way. His eyes were warm and soft now and Mack knew it was because, like his Uncle Russ, Sam cared a lot about him. Sam might be an efficient killer, possibly a war vet of some sort, but he was a guardian and Mack had no doubts that Sam would do what was necessary to protect him. 

"I guess I need a bodyguard after all. That was pretty stupid of me back there," Mack said He felt Sam's huge warm hand on his shoulder. 

"Ah, don't worry. Its just inexperience. You'll catch on quick." Sam removed his hand and patted Mack's shoulder before returning his arm to his side. "I'm here to see that you get the chance to become the kind of man people give wide berth to. For now, though, there are people who are too stupid, too crazy or too drugged to care if they kill ya ta get what they want. The world's a wonderful an' dangerous place, boy. Let me an' Russ help you smooth out some of those bumps on the road 'til you can do it for yourself, OK?" Sam gently squeezed Mack's shoulder again. 

"OK", Mack said and smiled. 

"I'll make you a deal; I'll watch your back an' you watch mine, ok?" Sam said. Mack smiled at the ridiculousness of the statement. 

"OK, deal." Mack said with a smile and squared his shoulders. 

"Buddies?" Sam said and he play punched Mack in the shoulder. 

"Yeah, buddies. And I'll watch your back; though I don't think you need it watched too often." Mack said, voicing his thought at Sam's offer. 

"You'd be surprised; when I get really drunk I sometimes need someone to keep an eye out for me." Sam said and winked. "All right. Well, let's forget about the bus an' go get a nice luxurious car. There's no need spendin' any more time tryin' ta gain your confidence; I think I already have it, don't I?" Sam said and chuckled. 

"Yeah, I trust you. No sense in sitting and sleeping in those small seats anymore." Mack said. 

"That's m'boy! Luxury when you can get it, right? Let's get the car an' then I'm in the mood for some really good food. We'll have to look around for a good restaurant," Sam said and picked up Mack's suitcase. Mack shouldered his backpack and the pair left the terminal in search of a car rental place. 

Chapter 5

The truck Sam rented was a big, roomy 2005 GMC Sierra. Sam wanted the Chevy Avalanche in the lot, but it had been reserved. The Sierra was big and roomy enough and had a lot of creature comforts. Mack had dug through his CD collection and the two had been rocking to Mack's heavy metal collection since Oklahoma. The kid had a wide selection from some of the early metal bands all the way up to the latest. 

Mack was proving to be a more than competent driver, and Sam settled back to relax and take a snooze after changing seats with him a few hour's drive out of Oklahoma City. His mind drifted as the miles rolled by and the disc player pounded away. Right now AC/DC's 'Hell's Bells' from the Back in Black album was playing. Sam remembered that he and some of his biker buddies had gone to see them in concert after the album's release. Sam remembered it was August, 1980 in Amarillo. The music brought back good memories of getting drunk off his butt with really good friends before the concert and the party they had after. Hell, Mack was listening to music that was released two years before he was born. Sam was remembering the wild sex he had with his biker buddies that same year. 

How time flies! Sam's mind drifted in pleasant nostalgia. Twenty five years ago another young man caught Sam's eye, the man who was working on his bike right now in Flagstaff was just a kid then. Sam remembered handing Mickey the ticket to the sold out concert. Mickey was a hard core AC/DC fan. 

Mike wasn't 'Grizzly Mike' back in those days, he was Mickey; a kid who was friends with a son of one of Sam's biker bros. Mickey and his mom lived in a trailer park and he never knew his real dad. His mom got pregnant in her junior year in high school and the guy who did it had taken off for parts unknown. His mom had a string of boyfriends who occasionally abused him physically. One lowlife had abused him sexually when he was fourteen. Mickey's mom dumped him, but it wasn't because she knew of the abuse. As far as Sam knew, he was the only one Grizzly Mike had ever told about how Billy had raped him one night when his mom was passed out drunk. His mom dumped Billy because she caught him cheating on her. Then two weeks later she'd married George, a man she'd been seeing off and on since Mickey was ten; a man who had slapped Mickey around a few times when things weren't going right for him. 

At fifteen Mickey made friends with Ronny, the son of one of the bikers Sam partied with. Big Ronny noticed the faded bruises on Mickey's back and legs. Mickey lied, of course, about how he'd got the bruises; but Big Ronny had seen enough to know that Mickey was lying to keep his step dad from beating him for telling. Big Ronny decided to give his step-dad a little lesson in proper parenting. He and some of the bros made it real clear to George that none of that shit was gonna happen anymore and used their fists and boots to punctuate their point. 




Mack



From then on, Mickey hung out more at Ronny's place than he did at home and over the next five years Sam got to know the young man and a bond formed. 

After the AC/DC concert, back at his buddy Bull's place with the party in full swing, he and Mickey went to an unoccupied bedroom. Sam hung his wallet from the chain on the outside of the door signifying that the room was occupied and by whom. It was a 'do not disturb' tradition and all the bikers respected it. That night Sam gently bonded on a much deeper level with the young man. Mickey became 'Grizzly Mike' the next day. Sam had christened him with the name that morning over breakfast with the other bros. 

Mickey got quite an education in the following years; everything from rebuilding bikes from the ground up to the subtleties of giving a good blow job. The kid was no longer a kid; at twenty-one his body was covered in dense blond fur and he had tattoos all over his arms, back and chest. In 1981, tattoos were still pretty much for men in the military, prisoners, sideshow freaks, leathermen and bikers. 

His thick long golden beard and the cigar he usually had in his mouth made him look ten years older than what he was. His tall, burly build and attitude reinforced that perception of being a full-grown man. He could pound back beers with his buddies all night and still get up in the morning and drag himself into the garage for work. The way he fucked his buddies, and took it too, gave the impression of a man who had been doing it for years; most thought he was a hard core biker who'd done time. 

Mickey was dead and 'Grizzly Mike' had risen from the ashes; a strong, serious, dependable man at work and a wild biker at gatherings; and now when he visited home to see his mom for some reason, George's fear of him was evident. Grizzly Mike enjoyed that fear. 

Sam was proud of Grizzly Mike; he had worked hard and by twenty-five had his own shop, with some financial help from his 'suit and tie' partner Larry; an older bearish man Mike had met at Sturgis. A man who, though older, quickly became Mike's 'Cub'. Sam didn't think anything of the reversal of roles. It was not uncommon in his experience, especially given what Mike and Larry had become thanks to Sam's year long mating with Mike. Age was less relevant for what they were, personality meant more and Larry was much more 'Cubbish' than Mike. 

Sam came back from his musings on the past half way through 'Givin' The Dog A Bone'. Mack was only a few years older than Mickey was when he'd met him. Both of them were so very young compared to Sam, even now. The young man sleeping quietly beside him had that same sort of maturity about him that his Uncle Russ had; that Mike had. Sam chuckled to himself. Sam knew Mack wanted sex with him and if he was willing, if he gave him reason, Sam would be happy to oblige. 

The next day was spent at the Grand Canyon. Mack had never seen it, and Sam was pleased to play tour guide. He and Mack had gone on the deluxe four and a half-hour tour of the Grand Canyon. It was a small piece of the whole, of course, but the wonder in Mack's eyes at what he saw was worth going out of their way. Sam remembered the first time he'd seen the canyon, so long ago; and how he, too, marveled at its grandeur and beauty. Of course, back then, there weren't tours... in fact there weren't many white men in the area. 

It was 10 pm by the digital clock on the dash. Sam was giving Mack a break and was back at the wheel again. He'd occasionally look over at Mack who was now sleeping in the reclined passenger seat. He'd done quite a bit of hiking around in the canyon in that four and a half-hour tour and had been tired out by the exertion. They'd stopped and had a large, leisurely meal; Mack was yawning all the way through dinner and as soon as he got comfortable he was out. He seemed to rest better now that it was just the two of them and they weren't on a bus where even when you were asleep, some part of you stayed alert enough to come out of it quickly should there be trouble. Sam knew all about that kind of sleep, he'd done it enough in his life and it was always when he was in an unpredictable or highly dangerous situation. Sam also knew his pheromones were having an effect on Mack. Mack was accepting him as his 'Papa', just as Grizzly Mike had done twenty-five years ago in Bull's house. Difference was, Mack hadn't been raped by a step-dad and wasn't as gun shy about sex with a man like Mickey had been. 

Sam pointed the Sierra towards Valle, a small town not too far away and again drifted off into his memories. Sam knew the owner and manager of the Canyon View Motel in Valle. Jim Schultz had owned the motel for the last fifteen years and Sam had helped him out by co-signing the loan. Jim was a nice guy; a big burly black bearded bear whose grandfather came over from Germany just before WWII to escape Hitler's reign of terror. Jim's grandfather wasn't Jewish, but he wasn't a man who could stomach the fascist politics in his country and was vocal about it. That had made him a marked man. 

Sam had met Jim in a bear bar in Phoenix and over the next few months got to know him really well. He learned that Jim was looking to buy and renovate the Canyon View Motel. It was a quaint late '40s era motel that had become run down and Jim had visions of restoration and renovation, but he just couldn't do it without someone to cosign on the loan. Sam's generosity was paid back in full. The motel was a thriving business once restored to its former glory and its retro atmosphere charmed those looking for a place to stay overnight. It was even declared a historical landmark, insuring its presence for generations to come. Sam got two percent of the annual profits but only because Sam had talked Jim down from ten percent he wanted to give. Sam also had a standing invitation for any room that he wanted free of charge when he was in the area; but the room Sam liked best was Jim's. 

With Jim, Sam practiced safe sex, but one day, perhaps Sam would give Jim his gift; perhaps. 

Sam's Harley was waiting for him in Flagstaff at Mike's place, and Flagstaff wasn't that far away; but still, it would be nice to take a couple of days and sleep in a bed for a change and sexually bond with Mack. Sam knew the time was close and if not tonight, then almost definitely tomorrow night. Even now, glancing over at Mack's crotch, Sam could see the effect his bear scent was having on the young man by the outline of the bulge down Mack's right leg. 

As Sam was pulling into the Canyon View's parking lot, Mack woke up. 

"Where are we?" Mack asked groggily. 

"We're at a motel. A buddy of mine runs the place. I need some sleep and you look like you'd appreciate a bed." Sam said. 

"Yeah," Mack said yawning, "this seat is nice, but it can't beat a good bed." 

"Ain't that the truth!" Sam said and chuckled as he got out of the truck. 

The two made their way to the office and Mack noticed that the 'no vacancy' sign was lit. He pointed that out to Sam and Sam just grinned. 

"I think we'll be OK, like I said, a buddy of mine runs this place." And Sam patted Mack on the back as they entered the office. 

Behind the counter a stout man with a jet-black beard and gray eyes greeted the pair. 

"Sam!" The man said with a huge grin as he came around the counter. The two embraced like long lost friends and parted. Mack noticed that the black bearded man was a good foot and a half shorter than Sam. 

"So, what brings you out here?" The man asked, turning and looking over at Mack. 

"Well Jim, this is Mack; he and I are headed out to his uncle's place in Bakersfield. I decided it would be fun to look at the Grand Canyon with someone who'd never seen it before." Sam said. "Mack O'Brien, this is Jim Schultz, he's a good friend and a real buddy." 

Jim took Mack's hand in a firm grip and shook with enthusiasm. "Good to meet you." Jim said and smiled through his bushy black beard. 

"Good to meet you too." Mack replied, as the handshake broke. Mack wondered if every bearish man in the entire southwest was a friend of Sam's as he looked over the portly bear who owned the motel. 

"So Jim, you got my room or have you rented it out? I noticed you're full up from the sign outside." Sam said ending with a grin. 

Jim's face took on a mock hurt expression, "Sam. How could you think I'd ever turn you away?" And then Jim broke into a smile, "You know I never rent out your room unless we're full and someone is truly desperate. Last time I rented it out was last month when a young couple and their two kids were broken down after visiting the Canyon. It was pouring down rain and the father looked like he was soaked to the skin from trying to fix their car." 

"You ol' softy, I bet you gave it to them for half price, didn't ya?" Sam said. 

"You know me too well." Jim laughed, "I usually don't rent that room out anyway so it doesn't hurt me to let them have it for half." 

Sam smiled, Jim had a heart of gold and he was a good businessman. Perhaps that's what made him a good businessman; he didn't let profit destroy his humanity. 

"So, why are you workin' the late shift?" Sam asked. 

"Well, the guy who usually works this shift is celebrating his anniversary and asked for the night off and the guy who would usually cover for him is at home with the stomach flu that's been going around at his kid's school, so that leaves me. I don't mind, the owner always works hardest, I knew that getting into it. It's the first rule of business. It's pretty quite and I can catch up on my reading." Jim said. 

"What ya readin'?" Sam asked. 

"Foundation series, I'm on the next to last book." Jim said. 

"I'll save you some time." Sam said with an impish look on his furry face, "The butler did it." 

Jim smiled, "Yeah, that butler sure gets around, don't he?" 

Mack yawned and Jim looked over at him. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm keeping you two from sleep." Jim said apologetically. 

"Oh, no, I'm fine." Mack said to make the innkeeper feel at ease. 

"Well just the same, let me get that key." Jim said and he hurried around the counter. 

He opened up a shallow cabinet on the wall behind the counter and took out a card key. There was no room number on it, instead it simply read VIP Suite. 

He handed the keycard over to Sam. 

Sam said, "Goodnight and come by tomorrow, 'bout 9, I think." 

"I will, we've got some catching up to do." Jim said, "Sleep well and it was nice meeting you, Mack." 

Mack said, "Nice meeting you, too," as he and Sam headed out the door. 

Sam and Mack grabbed their things from the car, locked it and Sam headed off through the motel complex. The grounds around the motel were nicely xeriscaped with large boulders, dry stream beds and a variety of cacti, succulents and other drought tolerant plants. The lighting was dramatic, yet tasteful. The remodeled mid 20th century motel was a showpiece of restoration and attracted a much better clientele than it had in the last few decades before Jim had bought the place. 

"Wow, Sam. Reserved VIP suite! Jim must like you a lot." Mack said. 

"Well, I helped Jim out years ago and he's sorta grateful, I guess. He's also a very nice man. You'll get a chance to know him better tomorrow when he comes by, we haven't visited in awhile. He always brings breakfast and we sit and catch up while eating together." Sam said. "He's a really good cook too." 

Sam opened the large Spanish style solid oak door, the lights came on automatically, but were soft like candlelight. Sam said in a slightly louder voice, "Gertrude?" 

An electronic female voice asked, "Yes?" 

"Lights brighter, please." 

"Level please?" The voice asked. 

Sam said, "Ten." 

Gertude said, "Please repeat." 

Sam said with a very pronounced 'T', "Ten." 

"Thank you." Gertrude said. 

He rolled his eyes. "Nice system, but it still has a few voice recognition problems." 

The light in the suite increased from dim to full brightness over the next five seconds. 

Sam set down his small bag on a nice wrought iron and oak table and Mack put his things on the table next to them, all the while gaping at the room and the lighting. 

The room was in rich browns and gold tones with hardwood floors and imitation Persian rugs. 

"Jim loves his gadgets. He's installed a voice activated computer control. Watch this:" Sam said merrily, "Gertrude?" 

"Yes." Came the response from the computer's speakers installed in the celling. 

"TV" 

A large panel in the wall opposite of the large, luxurious looking, black silk clad bed opened and a flat screen TV was revealed. 

"Your selection?" Gertrude asked. 

"HBO" Sam said and the screen went from blue to The Sopranos. 

"Pretty cool, huh?" Sam said. "Give it a try, I've gotta use the can. Oh, she's going to ask you for your name a few times to set her voice recognition pattern. When you're ready, just call her name." Sam said and headed for what looked like a very large bathroom; which lit up to the same level as the bedroom. 

Mack sat on the edge of the bed and said, "Gertrude?" 

Gertrude asked, "Enter your name please." 

"Mack." he said in the same clear way he'd heard Sam speak to the computer. 

"Repeat." Gertrude said. 

"Mack." he said again. 

"Repeat." Gertrude said. 

"Mack." he said slightly irritated and wondering how many times the computer needed to hear him say his name. 

"Thank you." Gertrude said. "Your request?" 

"TV" Mack said. 

"The TV is on." Gertrude said. 

"Yes, I want to change the channel." Mack said. 

"I could not understand, please repeat." Gertrude said. 

Mack said a bit louder, "I want to change the channel." 

"I could not understand, please repeat." Gertrude said. 

Frustrated, Mack was about to yell when he heard Sam holler through the closed bathroom door. 

"She's not the computer on the Enterprise, Mack; use simple commands." Sam laughed. "Say 'channel' and then tell her which one you want." 

"Gertrude." Mack said. 

"Yes" 

"Channel" Mack said in that same firm clear voice Sam had used. "Cartoon Network" 

Immediately the flat screen switched from Tony Soprano to the Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy. 

Mack kicked off his shoes and moved up on the bed and propped himself up on the pillows. Ten minutes later, when Sam came out Mack was sound asleep on the bed. Not wanting to wake Mack he walked over to the wall panel and pressed a button and spoke into the intercom style speaker and said in a normal voice. "Gertrude, lights off. TV, off." 

Immediately the TV went off and the panel closed over the screen. The lights began dimming. Sam sat in a chair and took off his boots. He climbed into the large bed next to Mack. Mack stirred slightly and then went back to the rhythmic breathing of deep sleep. Sam lay next to him and drifted off. 

Chapter 6

Mack awoke. It was 2 am by the clock on the night stand. He felt a large warm body next to him to his left and a heavy arm lay across his chest. A furry face was nestled in his left armpit. 

It was the fact that Mack's left arm had fallen asleep because it was in an odd position that he'd awoken. For a moment, Mack didn't realize where he was or who was with him in the bed. Then he remembered that he was in a motel in Arizona and that the man who was sleeping next to him with his face buried in his armpit was Sam. 

Mack felt a bit awkward. If he moved, he might wake Sam and if he didn't, his arm would still be asleep. He decided that disturbing Sam would be absolutely necessary, the pins and needles feeling in his left hand and arm was getting worse by the minute. 

Mack tried moving his left arm, but it was completely unresponsive. That feeling always scared Mack, because he always wondered if the blood flow had been cut off and if he'd lost circulation to the arm long enough for it to have died. He had an unreasoning fear that he'd have to have his arm amputated and it was this fear that made him move with less delicacy than he might have used otherwise. 

Mack scooted his body to the right by about a foot. He had to pick his left arm up and physically move it with the right arm. This moved both Sam's head from it's resting place onto the bed and the arm that was on Mack's chest. 

Sam stopped snoring, mumbled something in his disturbed state about "bathtubs". Sam in his sleep scooted that extra foot over placing his furry face right next to the left side of Mack's head, bent his left arm and placed it parallel to the length of Mack's torso and threw his left leg over Mack. Sam, in the next few minutes was once again breathing rhythmically in that soothing way Mack had noticed on the bus. 

Mack turned his head slightly and looked at the clock. It was five after two. The great hairy beast of a man next to him was warm and comforting. His beard was soft and the black Harley T-shirt he was wearing had been soaked in his sweat for the last few days. Sam smelled musky and that smell had given Mack his erection. Mack also noticed that Sam had wood and it was pressing into his left thigh. Feeling was returning to Mack's left arm. Mack wanted to unbuckle, unbutton and unzip his jeans and pull out his cock for a good jerk off, but he didn't want to wake Sam. 

Sam breathed steadily, softly. His warm breath on Mack's neck, the big strong hairy arm that just moved again across Mack to be draped horizontally across Mack's chest so that the forearm almost touched Mack's face. Sam's left leg was slightly bent and between Mack's legs. Sam's groin against Mack's leg was hot and the hard lump of his cock made Mack want to reach down and stroke it. For all intents and purposes, Mack was Sam's support pillow, but he didn't mind a bit. Having the big man cuddled next to him was heaven. He just hoped he could work out how to shoot a load without waking him. Mack decided right then and there that he really, really needed relief. 

Mack carefully reached over and pulled out several tissues from the Kleenex box on the night stand. Slowly and with extreme care, Mack unbuckled his belt with one hand. Mack had, had a lot of practice quietly jacking off while sharing a room with his younger brother before he got his own room. His kid brother had never been disturbed enough to wake up while Mack jerked it in the next bed. This was going to be completely different though, he'd never done such a thing while someone else was actually touching him. The notion of that, the 'danger' was turning Mack on even more. Slowly, he unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped. He carefully pulled the top of his pants open, reached down beneath his briefs for his cock and gently began to stroke the thumb of his right hand over the pre come slicked head. 

Sam's rhythmic breathing hadn't changed. 

Mack pulled his briefs down and began to stroke his cock, gently so as not to disturb Sam. The smell, the closeness, the warmth, the feel of the big man was filling Mack's brain with images of what Sam might look like without clothes. In the extremely dim light he could see the thick hair on Sam's arm and imagined how thickly carpeted his body would be. Mack hadn't had the opportunity to relieve his building need to come since he got on the bus and now, with just a little stimulation he was getting close to shooting. He looked over at the clock, it was only fifteen after two and he was already more than half way to shooting. 

Suddenly, while looking at the clock Sam moved his hairy arm. It quickly moved down Mack's T-shirt clad torso and the big paw-like left hand covered Mack's smaller right hand and the words, "Need some help with that, li'l Bro?" were softly growled out by the big man to his left. 

Immediately Mack froze. He turned his head to find Sam's eyes staring into his own. A wide smile was on Sam's face as he gently squeezed Mac's hand in reassurance. 




Mack



"Uh..." Mack began and Sam shushed him. 

"'S'OK bro, I'll take care of ya, like a big hairy bodyguard is suppos'd ta," he growled in his sleep-roughened voice. Sam moved Mack's hand away from his cock and grasped it firmly and began stroking the young man. 

"You an' I've been on the road for days without a chance to get any release. I was hopin' that you'd ask me to sleep with you, I was hopin' you'd take the hint of a one bed motel room and ask. I was hopin' that when I got into bed tonight that you'd wake up and ask but I guess you were just to tired out from climbin' around in the Canyon yesterday. So, when I woke just a minute ago and realized what you were doin', I decided that I wasn't gonna wait anymore." Sam chuckled. "A bear could die of sexual frustration waiting on you, boy!" Sam said and squeezed a little harder on Mack's rock hard cock sending shivers of pleasure throughout the young man. Sam chuckled again. "Yeah, well I ain't gonna die that way!" 

He moved his face closer to Mack's and said, "Give daddy a kiss." 

Mack moved his mouth to Sam's and Sam filled Mack's mouth with his tongue. Mack moved the hand, still moist with his pre come, up to the left side of Sam's face and began to run his hands through the beard, petting and caressing the bear's fur. 

The stimulation almost pushed Mack over the edge. It was then that Sam said, "Oh no, not yet, Bro!" 

With that, Sam reached down, grasped Mack's balls and gently pulled them away from his body. 

"I don't want you to come just yet. I want your first orgasm with me to be something a little more than a hand job. You need to cool off a little." Sam said. 

After a few minutes of holding Mack's balls Sam asked, "You about cooled off, Bro?" 

"Yeah, I... I don't feel like I've got to shoot." Mack said. It was the first thing he'd said since he tried to hurriedly explain why he was stroking his cock and Sam had hushed him. 

"Well good, now we can get down to business!" Sam said. 

Sam raised his voice to a normal talking tone. "Gertrude." 

"Yes." Came the female computer voice. 

"Half normal light, please." Sam said over his shoulder. 

"Certainly." Came the reply. 

"Take those clothes off, Bro, you're not gonna need 'em for a few hours." 

Slowly the light increased in the room as Sam undressed. It was an act he took slowly, making it a sensual experience for the both of them. Mack, in his youthful exuberance, had stripped within seconds, shucking his jeans, kicking them off the end of the bed and near ripping his T-shirt off. He was about to pull his briefs off and Sam, just now beginning to pull his musky, faded to charcoal, black T-shirt off paused with the bottom somewhere below his nipples but above his hairy belly said, "Nuh uh, leave those on. I want to take those off myself." 

Mack removed his hands from the sides of the underwear. 

"Lay back an' wait. I know you been wantin' to see me naked since I got on the bus. You've got to learn to savor the moment, Bro! Savor the moment!" 

Slowly, sensually, Sam continued to remove his T-shirt. It wasn't a strip tease, it was the unveiling of one of the great natural masterpieces of the world. When the T-shirt was off, Mack could finally see the complete furry torso of the great man before him. He was covered in fur, not an inch on his torso was bare. Sam handed the shirt to Mack and simply said, "Take a sniff." 

Mack took the shirt and put it to his nose, he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The rich musk of his protector, his 'daddy' filled his nostrils and sent a tingle through his body. Sam's long bearded face split in a wide smile. 

"You've wanted to do that for awhile too, haven't ya Bro? Tonight and from now on, you're my Bro, my bear Bro. We're tight now and nothin' can come between us." Sam said and Mack felt it. He knew now that this man would be part of his life for the rest of his days. 

Sam slowly unbuckled his black leather belt, unbuttoned the top of his jeans, unzipped his pants all the while Mack was breathing in the musky scent. Sam wasn't wearing underwear and as he pushed the jeans down he freed what had to be a good ten to eleven inches of thick bear cock that stood up proudly and glistened in the dim light of the room. Heavy balls hung down, touching his hairy thighs. Sam never took his eyes off the young man and saw how his cock twitched at the sight of his thickly veined monster. Sam turned round and bent over as he took the top of his pants all the way down to his ankles. Mack could see Sam's hairy back, a back as thickly carpeted as his front and his equally hairy ass and legs. It was just as Mack had imagined, Sam was furry all over, thickly furred. Mack saw that Sam's asshole was hidden by thick curly brown fur in the crack. Sam stood up and stepped out of his worn jeans. He turned around and said, "Like what you see?" 

All Mack could do was nod in agreement. 

"Its ok....you can touch if you want to." Sam stood there, the half light making his fur glow. 

"I've never seen a guy so hairy," Mack breathed. He stepped up to the big man and ran his hands through his thick chest and belly fur, then reached for his cock. 

"Like it?" Sam chuckled. 

"Oh, FUCK yeah!" Mack was in heaven. 

"Well, we can stand here all day and stroke, or we can get down on that bed there and make use of what we were blessed with!" Sam growled. Mack silently stepped back and the two lay down on the large bed. 

Mack hesitated, then blurted out, "Sam....I, uh, I've been with a girl and all, and I liked it; ad I messed around with a buddy in school some, you know... looking and touching and once a blow job; and I liked that, too. But I've never done it with a guy, I mean, a man. I got a general idea of what to do, but....." 

"Son, don't worry. You're in good paws with this ol' bear. I guarantee you'll like it, and it will certainly change your life." Sam grinned through his thick beard. "Now, let's get those tighty whities offa you." Sam's furry paws reached for the underwear.

Over the next hour or so, Mack learned a whole lot about man sex. He was a quick study, and eagerly put to use the things Sam showed him. Sam carefully brought Mack to the point where the young man was open and willing and begging for more. 

"Bro, this is going to hurt a bit, but that can't be helped the first time. And you just give it half a chance and it will feel real good, I promise. I'll take it easy, jes' relax a bit." He leaned forward over Mack and said, "Here... sniff my pit... take a good whiff. It'll make ya real horny." 

Mack did so and was hit with a wave of sexual desire so strong he thought he'd shoot right then. At the same moment, Sam pushed his thick cock into Mack's asshole. 

"God DAMN! That fucking HURTS!" Mack shouted. Sam held still and shushed the young man. 

"I know.... I'll stay quiet for a bit, let you get used to my size. I know I'm kinda big. But it gets a lot easier." True to his word, Sam held still until he felt Mack's sphincter relax, and then began to push slowly in. "See... easier, innit?" Mack nodded, not trusting himself to speak. It still hurt some, but he found he SO wanted this bear of a man in him. 

Sam slowly picked up the pace, pumping his great swollen cock deeper into Mack. Mack's eyes closed and he threw his head back, moaning as pain moved to pleasure and he began to shoot all over his own belly and chest. The first shot hit his face. Sam grinned and drove towards his own climax, firing off a huge load deep inside Mack. He leaned forward again, bending Mack nearly double as he gave him a wet sloppy bear kiss. 

He backed off so Mack could lower his aching legs and lay down on his side beside him, a huge paw resting on the young man's cum-coated belly. "Looks like you kinda liked that," the big bear chuckled. 

"Damn! That was.... that was great!" Mack was still panting. Sam's breathing had returned nearly to normal. Mack turned towards Sam's chest and belly and began snuffling and nosing through the fur. "Fuck, I just can't get enough of you... I just love this!" He stroked and petted and ran his fingers across and through everything he could reach on the bear's body. 

Sam grinned his huge grin and rolled onto his back and stretched his arms above his head. "Yep... nothing like some good ol' fashioned man sex to blow the cobwebs out. I feel like I could eat a horse and a half. Wanna get some grub?" 

Chapter 7

The two rolled out of bed and into clothes and climbed into the Sierra. "Dunno what's open now," Sam said, gunning the vehicle out onto the road. "We'll just drive a ways... bound to be something on the highway." But they only had to drive three blocks before finding a Denny's. They parked and walked in, sitting in a booth in the nearly deserted eatery. 

Sam took a menu and looked at Mack. "One of everything?" The grin that Mack was really growing to like split the big bearded bear's face. 

"Maybe for you, big guy! I'll have the Pancake Lover's Breakfast... with extra sausage." Mack replaced his menu as the waitress approached. "That's good, cub. Carbo-loading. You'll need the carbs!" That grin again. 

They placed their orders, and shortly were devouring everything in sight. "Heh... you weren't kidding about storing up for the winter, were you?" Mack asked between mouthfuls as Sam emptied his third plate. "I thought you just hadn't eaten in a while." 

"Nope. I nearly always eat like this." Sam belched. 

"Well, you've got a tummy, I'll say that. That's not a bad thing... I kinda like it." Mack grinned. "I mean, you're not fat or anything, just... big. And comfortable." Sam patted his belly and belched a second time. 

When the check came, Sam reached for it and waved Mack's money away. "You get the next one, bro. This one's on me." They headed out to the SUV. 

It was cold out and with the windows rolled up, Mack was getting an overdose of Sam's pheromones on the way back to the motel. He struggled against the waves of lust he was feeling, needing to ask a question of the bearman beside him before completely surrendering to his animal urges. 

"Sam?" 

"Yeah... what is it, son?" Sam navigated the big vehicle into the parking lot of the motel. 

"I gotta ask this, and I don't mean any disrespect or anything. I just need.... " 

Sam eased the Sierra into the parking slot in front of their room and turned the ignition off but did not get out. He turned to Mack. "Son, look at me." Mack turned so he could face Sam squarely. "You're worried that my having fucked you is going to turn you into what your dad thinks you are. Am I right?" 

Mack nodded and then said, "No, I mean... It's more complicated than that. What I mean is, well..." Sam interrupted him. 

"Hey. Do I seem in ANY way feminine to you? Is my wrist limp? Do I lisp or come across as at all faggy to you.... at ALL??" There was just a touch of impatience in Sam's voice. 

"No! Not at all... It's not that at all. I just meant that..." Once again, Sam cut Mitch's words off. 

"Son, listen to me good. I've been fucked just about as much as I've done the fucking. I like both. Does it LOOK like it's changed me into a girlie-man?" Sam stared at Mack. Mack blushed. "Look. I'm not angry with you. It's a natural question for any young pup to have. I'da been surprised if you didn't have those doubts. But, like I said... it ain't harmed me none, and men, I mean real men like us, well; we know just how to take care of each other. It don't make us any less men for it. You're gonna get your chance to plow my ass in a bit and then well see if you're still worried." Once again, Sam grinned through his beard at Mack. Mack visibly relaxed. "Come on, let's head in. My butt's itchin' " Sam opened the door and climbed out. 

Back inside the room, Sam asked Gertrude to bring the lights to half and raise the heat a bit. He looked at Mack and noticed with satisfaction that the young man's pants were tented out as far as they could go without splitting open. Mack hurriedly started to remove his shirt, but Sam slowed him. "Easy, hot shot. Take it slow. I wanna make this last a bit. Now come on over here and take these duds off me, nice an' slow-like." 

Mack moved over to Sam and slowly began to undress him. He tugged the shirt off over his head and was hit with a wave of strong male scent that shot right to his crotch, causing his dick to ache with hardness. He knelt down and unbuckled Sam's jeans and tugged them down. His thick, heavy meat sprang out, freed from the cloth prison that had held it in check. It lengthened and thickened as he watched. Sam steadied himself with one paw on Mack's back as he lifted one leg so Mack could remove his boot. After Mack had repeated the move with the other boot, Sam kicked the jeans away and stood, naked and hard, cock oozing precum in fat drops. Dizzy with desire, Mack leaned forward and licked the partly-shrouded tip. Sam moaned in pleasure. 

Mack swallowed as much of Sam as he could manage and began bobbing on the rigid pole. Sam stroked Mack's head as he worked, caressing and guiding him. When Sam gently pulled him off, Mack looked up, questioning. "Wash my balls, cub," the big bear growled, holding up his erect, unhooded meat. 

Mack gave the big, heavy orbs a good tongue bath, and then pushed Sam down onto the bed in a sitting position. He moved between Sam's thick furry thighs and went back to work on Sam's cock, learning as he worked, remembering and using the things Sam had taught by example a few hours before. Soon, Sam was leaning back, growling and bucking in Mack's mouth, pumping his hips in time with Mack's up and down sucking. 

"I'm gonna shoot, dammit!" Mack sucked harder, working as much of the long pole into his mouth as he could. He fought down a gag reflex, desperately wanting to drink all Sam would give him. Suddenly, Sam stiffened, his tip flared deep in Mack throat, and with a roar, he unloaded a torrent of bear seed. Mack swallowed as fast as he could. The taste was intoxicating, the smell overpowering; a mix of musk and stink and sweat, salt tang overlaid with a sharp, almost bleach taste. 

Mack was dizzy, but wasn't even close to passing out. The smell and taste acted on his primitive mind and he stood up, cock pounding with blood as he pulled Sam's legs up onto his shoulders, then bent him back on the bed, revealing his fur-covered ass and pucker. Damp with sweat, the thick hair swirled around the pink opening. Mack thought he saw it wink at him. Sam grinned up at him and said, "Well, boy... there it is. What you gonna do with it, eh?" 

Mack said nothing but put one hand down to push his rigid dick down so it centered on Sam's asshole and shoved in, hard. Sam winced, but didn't cry out. He reached up and held his legs to take some pressure off Mack so he could get a better position. Mack hunched down a bit and began to piston in Sam's butt. Sam growled, "Take it slow, son. We got a lot of time here. Cummin's fun, I know; and if you need to shoot now, go for it. But it's fun to take it slow sometimes, too, ya know." 

It was hard for Sam to concentrate on giving pointers to Mack, his ass felt so good with a good-sized cock in it. It had been way too long since he's been fucked. But he managed to growl out a few tips. "Vary your speed, go slow for a bit, then pick up the pace. Feel with your cock, focus on that. Oh, yeah!! That's the way! Pull almost all the way out, then slide back in slow-like. Roll me back a bit so you can get a different angle... oh, FUCK,yeah, that's it! Damn, that's good! Rubs different places inside." 

Sam squeezed his ass ring tight to milk Mack's cock, and that sent the young man over the edge. With a cry and a deep grunt, he drove in deep and pumped his load into the furry beast under him. He felt like he'd never stop cumming, but eventually he did; but his meat remained firm for a good time, and Sam asked him to leave it in in spite of legs that were beginning to ache. "Fuckin' A, that was a first class job for a beginner!" Sam chuckled as Mack panted from exertion. 

Later, when Mack pulled his softened member out with a slurping 'pop' and lay down beside Sam, they cuddled and lay together in comfortable silence for a while. Finally, Sam broke the silence with a prod of his still semi-hard cock between Mack's legs. "Still worried?" 

Mack grinned and said, "No, sir! Not at all!" 

"Good man!" Sam grunted and stretched. "What say we snooze for a bit? 'Course, if you get frisky in an hour or so, jes' wake me up. I'll be happy ta play." Sam pulled Mack in close and wrapped furry arms around him and settled in for some sleep. 

The both ended up waking each other, Mack waking Sam about an hour later, and Sam waking Mack just as the first faint light of dawn was edging around the curtains. They explored a variety of positions, getting Mack used to all the possibilities. They slept again, more soundly this time. It took the combined chiming of Gertrude and Jim's pounding on the door to waken them. 

"Come on, guys! I got breakfast waiting!" Jim knocked again, to have the door opened by a sleepy and naked Sam. 

"Aw, come on in, Jim. Wake us up proper!" Sam stood aside, fondling his cock and balls as he waited for Jim to enter. 

"Nuh-uh. You know if I come in there, we'll fuck like bunnies for hours," Jim smiled. 

"And your point would be?" Sam was at half staff now. 

"My point would be that I have a business to run! Now get decent and come on over to the office and I'll feed you both. I know you've worked up an appetite," Jim said, winking.

Sam laughed and said, "Ok... we'll be there in two shakes of a cub's butt." 

After showering and pulling on clothes, the two headed over to the office and ducked under the counter and headed into the back room. Opening off it were comfortable living quarters with a large kitchen and table laid for three. 

"Just let me check these good people out, and we can get started," Jim called out. "Make yourselves at home." 

Shortly afterwards, the three bears sat down to a hearty southwest version of breakfast, with quesadillas, burritos, Southwestern omelets, hash browns, crisp bacon, and a casserole of beans, onions, rice, tomatoes, peppers and sausage; along with two pots of strong black coffee. "Damn me, Jim... you do good work in the kitchen, I will say that!" 

"Glad you liked it. And if you two aren't in a big hurry, I would have some free time in about a half an hour, as soon as the maids get started on the rooms." He eyed the closed door leading off the living area. 

"Sure thing, Jim. Mack here needs some experience, don'cha, bro?" Mack looked a Jim, then Sam, his face a mixture of longing and concern. 

"Ah, don't worry, son. Jim and I are play buddies from way back. He's good people." 

Jim hurried off and Mack and Sam cleared the table and stacked dishes in the dishwasher. 

Jim must have been eager, because is just over twenty minutes he was back in the living area, hugging both Sam and Mack and opening the door to the bedroom, seemingly all at once. Once inside, they all started to shed clothes. Mack openly watch Jim strip. He was shorter than Sam, and built like a fireplug. He turned and shucked his shirt and dropped his pants. Mack saw that his back was smooth, as were his butt and legs, but when he turned, Mack's eyes widened. Jim was blessed with a thick mat of fur so dense his nipples couldn't be seen. His belly button was obscured, too. The thick carpet ran from his neck where he obviously shaved it to his collar line, down to his crotch in an unbroken sweep. He had a compact cock and balls, the cock resting on the snugged, fur-covered ball sack, with just the tip showing through the foreskin. Jim scratched and saw Mack's stare. "Heehee. I'm a grower, not a shower. He comes out of his house when there's someone to play with." Jim walked over and hugged Mack in a solid bear hug. Within moments, Mack could feel his own crotch being poked by a thick fleshy probe. "See? He wants to make friends!" 




Mack



"Hello"

"Majal, its Pete. How are things."

"I am fine and you."

Pete chuckled in to the phone. "I am good. Did you get a chance to tour the facilities?"

"I did. It is an impressive place. I am looking forward to getting to Namibia."

"Good. Melissa squared you away with tickets?"

"She did."

"OK, the equipment is on its way and the workers have been hired. I want you to personally hire your team."

"Very good. I know some people that will work." said Majaliwa

"OK, with that I bay you farewell. I will be down in a couple of months to see how things are going."

"OK, I look forward to it and good bye."

"Bye" 

Majaliwa sat in the bar talking with Paul. He enjoyed the polite conversation. He drank a few more Carlsburg before deciding to leave. 

He walked out of the bar and started to walk back to the tube station that would take him to his hotel. It was dark now but surprising there were still a lot of people out. He saw a group of young men ahead and recognized the boy he had briefly met in the pub. 

"ya, thats him" said one of the members in the group.

Majaliwa continued to walk, ignoring the comment.

"Oi....you...black bastard. You never said sorry for spilling my beer."

The group started to circle around him as he walked. Majaliwa slowed down seeing no clear exit as he took a count of the group. There were three walking on either side of him and probably another four behind him.

Majal turned around to face the rest of the group behind him as he set his bag on the ground. 

"I told you before that you bumped in to me."

"You don't have the right to tell me fuck all, mate. Who the fuck do you think you are?" Tom spat into Majaliwa's face.

Majaliwa knew that real fights never lasted that long. He had been in enough to know that there was a difference between a fight where people were trying to hurt each other and ones where you were defending your right to live. He had never been in any fight other than that type. 

Majaliwa unleashed the anger he kept bottled inside himself for just such occasions; ramming his head into Tom's face causing blood to spew everywhere, he used it as a stop block to support the kick he sent to the face of the adolescent behind him. He then grabbed the hair of the kid next to him and dropped to the floor throwing the boy in the air . While on the ground he kicked the kneecaps out of two more that were still standing. He rolled again allowing him to get to his feet quickly. He jumped in the air sending a punch downward on one of the kneecapped boy's faces. 

There were two left uninjured. He looked at one of them in the face as he slammed his foot into the head of the boy he had previously thrown in the air; breaking his nose as well. One of the boys threw a punch at Majal's head. Majal dodged the attack as he grabbed the boys fist, sending his other hand into the boys elbow causing the bone to snap at the joint. 

He had broken the noses of four out of seven of the group, shattered two kneecaps, and broken one arm. As they stood there gushing with blood and screaming, Majal looked at the single boy that was left with cold and piercing blue eyes.

"Your move."

The boy decided his best move was to head in the opposite direction. Majaliwa picked his bag off of the ground and headed for the tube station.

Zula

The forest floor was covered with many years worth of orange and yellow colored leaves. The forest was thick with trees; large trees that rose at least 20 feet in the air before the first branches grew out. It was so thick that it drowned most of the sun out by the time it reached the forest floor. Something seemed wrong though, it was the smell. The smell around him was wrong, he noticed also that there were no birds in the air either. Mack stood there taking the surroundings in when the first noise he had heard came from behind him. Mack turned quickly around and found that whatever had made the noise was gone. Another rustling of leaves came from behind him again. Mack turned again and saw the culprit of the noise. In a distant patch of woods where the sun was being allowed to come in he saw what appeared to be a shadow walking towards him. The shadow never fully took any shape but shifted where a face would normally be it changed to the faces of people that he recognized.

He awoke slowly from his slumber curious about the dream he had just had. The sun slowly sneaked in through the window, changing the colors of the curtains and furniture in the beautifully decorated room from black to the greens, reds, and blues they were actually made of. Without light there was no color. He enjoyed the thought of this as he laid there contemplating getting out of bed. The warm body next to him had not stirred yet which gave him a chance to admire the beautiful shape of it from above the single sheet that was being allowed to touch it. Her dark wavy hair ran lusciously over her shoulders, back and arms. He knew he had to leave before he lost his resolve to. Mack gave her a single kiss on her shoulder before getting up silently and walking out the door. 

The city of Casablanca was decidedly different from the view of Dakhla. The run down buildings and desperate people of Dakhla were a complete 180 degrees from the green grass, colorful buildings, and happy and well dressed people of Casablanca. Mack flagged down a taxi that would take him to see Zula.

"Rabat, Min Fadlak" said Mack as he got in the cab. He hardly had a chance to close the door before the driver put the car in to motion. The city began to pass quickly by the window of the cab changing from specific outlines of shapes to blurs of color. As the memory of the city became a distant Mack's focus came back to him. Alex, although beautiful was a distraction he could not afford. 

The city started to diminish now and become the barren countryside that connected all parts of Morocco. It was roughly an hour to Rabat where he would collect a passport and a few other items from Zula. He had passports already from Germany and Italy but he was worried that they were tracked now. Mack drifted off to sleep watching the countryside pass by. The cab came to a halt in the center of Rabat as Mack awoke with a start. He handed the driver 300 dirham then exited to the capital of Morocco. Mack made his way along the shopping boulevard to a small women's clothing boutique. As he entered the shop a tall African woman smiled warmly at him from behind an old Singer sewing machine. She took her glasses off, paused, then laid them on the table. She stared at him for a moment, looking him over before getting up and coming to meet him. They gripped each other in the friendly embrace of two people that don't need words.

"How are you, Zula"

"I am good and it is good to see you again after so long. You have been in Morocco for how long and could not find the time to come see me?"

"I know, and I should have come. It took me a while to get myself together."

"I know"

"I knew you would understand. Can you close up, I was hoping we could get some food."

"Of course. Take a seat over there and give me a few minutes" 

Mack sank in to the chair in a tranquil bliss as Zula busied herself hanging up the dress she had just finished. Zula truly was gifted with a needle and thread having made some of the most luxurious dresses Mack had ever seen. Of course, Mack was no expert but he knew what he liked and Zula had owned this shop for around 15 years now which was testament that she did well. Mind, she did have her other income as well which he was sure she did very well with as well. See, Zula was truly gifted at forging documents; any documents. Mack had known her since his time in the SAS when he was having to sneak in and out of countries on passports other than his own. The UK government did not make fake passports themselves, but people in the SAS always knew how to get something accomplished, however they had to. Zula finished hanging the dress and locked the back door of the shop.

"OK, Lets go!" smiled Zula. 

They walked about a hundred yards down the boulevard to a small cafe. They sat down and ordered some food. Mack noticed that although it had been two years, Zula had not aged much. He thought that she must be at least 40 by now and still held the earthly beauty she had 15 years earlier. Very tall and slender she had light brown eyes that almost matched the tone of her skin. She had been his friend as long as he could remember. 

"So what kind of trouble are you fixing to get yourself in to?"

Mack sighed slightly before answering, "I only ever get myself in to trouble that I have to. You know that. I have to finish what they started and I will finish it."

Zula stared at Mack trying to search inside him. He was the same Mack she had known before, but he was much colder now and seemed unhappy. "I will pray for you to find peace."

"I'm afraid that there is no peace, ever. There is just life, I suppose that sometimes that is a peaceful place but mostly it is just challenges and hardship and how you overcome them. I'm afraid I have found it difficult to overcome them of late." "There is peace my friend and you find that peace inside yourself. Regardless of what hardships have been thrown your way. The Mack I remember knew this." 

Mack signed slightly, "I am not the same person you knew, Zula"

"I suppose not. You have locked doors that you have to open and maybe you will not find happiness until you do. But I can tell you that you will only truly be happy when you accept what has happened and learn to forgive yourself and the rest of the world."

"I know, I just......I just ........I'm angry, I was upset before and could have accepted it. But now that I know that it was not an accident. I can not get over this until they know how much I hurt."

Zula remained silent while she watched her life long friend. They sat and ate their food for a while and the silence felt good. Mack finally broke the silence.

"How long will you need to complete the documents and were you able to get the other items I asked for?"

Zula laughed slightly, "I already completed the documents and I was able to get the other items that you asked for. How is your French?"

"A French passport is fine. It has been a while, but it will come back quickly."

"I was unable to make a UK passport. They have started putting biometric chips in them now. I don't have the facilities to make these, yet."

"Thats fine. French is fine. You mind if I crash at yours tonight."

"You know I don't mind."

Abeeku

The brown colored boxes were symmetrically and religiously stacked to the ceiling. The large warehouse was located in eastern Port Elizabeth. Port Elizabeth was a bustling city with a large harbor that handled much of the exports for the lower continent of Africa. Abeeku worked long hours in the warehouse monotonously moving boxes into the warehouse and out of the warehouse. He was an older black man; he had come out of retirement a couple of years ago and relocated to Port Elizabeth. He liked this city although he had always preferred the country. The work that he did now almost seemed therapeutic to him. The repetitiveness of it kept his mind focused and allowed the days to pass by quickly. 

The foreman came out of his office and shouted down to the crew, "We close up in 30 minutes!"

There came a small cheer from the employees as they started making preparations to go home. The employees shut down the machinery in the warehouse and started to lock the doors. Abeeku went to his locker and took off his overhauls. He grabbed his lunch pale and headed for the bus stop located just a few feet outside the front of the large building he worked in. He sat there for a moment reflecting as a tear came to his eye. He pushed the emotion back as he saw the five o'clock bus coming. 

The bus came to a stop at the designated area and several employees from the warehouse got on. Abeeku took his usual seat and prepared for the half hour ride to his apartment. He watched the streets of the city pass by as he slowly sighed to himself.  

The bus dropped him off outside of his apartment complex. He walked down to the local shop that he visited every evening to get his groceries. The radio played a local pop song in the background. The shop was small but carried the staples that every kitchen needed. He went around the various isles picking up bread, cheese, and other items that he needed. He came to the checkout and stood there calmly waiting behind a mother and her child. He listened to the song playing and thought how different it was to the music he was used to. The song finished and a news caster came on.

"Authorities are investigating an outbreak in Angola that killed nearly 1000 people. It is unknown at this time where the virus came from. The investigation has shown that the virus had a quick incubation period; killing almost all inhabitants of the large town within a matter of days."

Abeeku dropped his basket on the floor of the shop and stood motionless for several moments before promptly leaving the shop. 

Deceptive

Alex awoke slowly from her deep sleep. She stretched like a cat arching her back as the sheet hugged her body as if it was a second skin. She didn't expect to still see Mack lying next to her and was not surprised when she looked and saw that he had gone. He was a loner and she knew it. Never having been modest she got up from bed and walked nude to the room's phone. Her slender fingers picked up the phone and dialed; on the other end a man picked up.

"Hello"

"Hi, its Alex" She says.

"Miss Williams, How is Africa?"

"Hot. He has gone to see the African lady today. I expect within a couple of days he will be on his way to Europe. I should be coming back soon."

"You're not done yet. I need to know what flight he is on and to where, OK?"

Alex breathes heavily in to the phone then answers, "OK."

"Do you trust me?" Asked the voice on the other end of the phone.

"Of course I do."

"Then know that you are doing the right thing. Report back when you know where he is going."

"OK, Goodbye."

"Bye"

Alex hung up the phone and stood there for a few moments thinking. She looked at her watch while figuring out her next move. 

If I show up in Rabat it will seem odd. I will have to wait for him to come back to Casa.

She checked her notes she had written down yesterday then picked up the phone again to dial another number.

"Ahlen," answered a male voice.

"Hasan, this is Alex, how are you?"

"I am fine, Alex, how are you?"

"I'm fine. I need you to do one last thing for me."

"What do you need me to do for you?"

"I need you to hang out at the Hotel Riad Salam and let me know when the man I had you follow before comes in."

"OK, I will do this and call you when I see him. How much will you pay me?"

"Same as before?"

"This is good. I will call you. Bye now."

"Good bye, Hasan, and thank you."

"Good Bye, you are welcome."

Alex hung up the phone before getting dressed and heading down for breakfast.

Tomented

In other news Magmus Corporation's stock soared today after news that after only 3 weeks of investigation the UK Government has dropped its antitrust suit against the Energy Giant. During a press release Magmus stated that "They were pleased at the outcome of the investigation and remained dedicated to providing their customers the best service at affordable rates.

Pete wondered how much time he had. All the terrible things that he had done to make money in his life surly had to come back to claim his soul eventually. 

Your not an evil person, You have done some things that your not proud of but you are not evil, am you?

He emptied the Glenfiddich down his throat.

"Tom, another please." The bartender came over, gave Pete a once over before filling up his glass. 

Why do you play games with yourself.

He takes another small drink as he lights a cigar. He looks at the mirror that is behind the bar and stares at himself for a long while. He stares at his own eyes, trying to see into his soul. 

Do you feel sorry for the people that have died because of you? 

You didn't cause those deaths. You didn't personally kill anyone. 

But you didn't prevent their deaths either.

He took a long drag from his cigar, let the smoke fill his mouth and soak into the inside of his cheeks. He let the smoke out slowly from his mouth, swirling his scotch in its glass. He finished the last of the scotch and looked into the mirror again.

"I'm tired, so tired."

Pete stood up and staggered. His driver came over promptly and grabbed him under his arm. 

"OK, sir. Lets get you home."

"You're a good man, Brent. Call Melissa for me. As ser to come over. No...No.... lets go pick ser up. I want to see her.

"OK, sir. Lets get you to the car."

The driver walked Pete to the car which was parked in its usual spot. Pete fell immediately to sleep when he got in the car as Brent drove the black limousine to Melissa's house. 

Pete felt the car slow down as he drifted in and out of sleep. He heard the driver's door open; Pete opened his window to let some fresh air on his face. Melissa was waiting at the curb for him. The driver opened the door to let her in the back seat. 

"Melissa! How are you, gorgeous?"

Melissa giggles before answering, "I'm good, I see you are good too. How much did you have to drink?" 

"Not much; enough."

"I see," she said again as she let out another giggle.

Melissa pulled Pete's head on to her lap. She played with his hair as she loosened his tie and shirt. "I'm going to make you feel good tonight." She paused. "If you can manage to stay awake."

Confrontation

Mack ran; he ran as hard as he could but he was not gaining any ground. He was so frustrated because he knew he was a fast runner but no matter how fast he ran, the ground was not moving below his feet. The leaves in the forest slowly fell from the sky. They fell slower than what he knew was normal and occasionally stopped moving all together causing Mack to run into them. Mack looked up and saw that the sky that was visible appeared to be passing by like he was actually moving. What was odd though is that the trees were moving, they were moving opposite of him; they were actually moving on the ground. 

The shadows were moving with him also, never catching up; but always behind him. He looked behind him in fear and saw that more shadows started to appear; they shifted in and out. As he made eye contact with where one of there faces would be, it's face changed. It started as the white face of an old man, but shifted, gnarled. The eyes became large and elongated. Its teeth grew pointy and long as they gnashed at him. He tried as hard as he could but was unable to run away from it. 

Mack jumped up and hit his head on the roof of the cab. 

"Fuck!"

He had pins and needles all over his limbs and was sweating profusely. 

The cab driver glanced in his rear view mirror at Mack as he pulled the car in front of the Riad Salam. Mack paid the driver quickly and got out.

People came in and out of the hotel lobby busying themselves with their daily tasks. Hasan watched them intently. He took a drink of his water as the man he had been looking for came in through the front door. Hasan grabbed his water and started walking for the door. As he walked he pulled his phone out of his pocket to call Alex; he made eye contact with the man as he walked out of the hotel door. He headed for the passage next to the hotel. 

"Hello."

"Its Hasan."

"Hi Hasan. Has my man appeared?"

"Yes, he just turned up."

"OK, good. I left you an envelope at the lobby of my hotel."

"Thank you and goodbye."

"Bye"

Hasan heard something behind him. He turned around in time to see a fist make contact with his face. This knocked him off of his feet and sent him the ground immediately. 




Mack



Mack kicked the man in the kidneys before turning him over to look at him. Mack knelt down on top of the man and put his knee into the mans ribs. He pulled a knife out of his pocket which he slid between the mans legs up to his groin. 

"I'm going to ask you a couple of questions and if you don't answer truthfully I'm going to cut you. Do you understand?"

Hasan nodded quickly, "Ye-yes I un-understand."

"You're sure you understand because I don't want to have to hurt you, but if you don't answer truthfully I will cut your balls off." said Mack forcefully.

Hasan nodded again.

"This is the second time I have seen you. The first was when I got to Casablanca. Who asked you to follow me the first time I saw you?"

"A la-lady named Al-Alex paid me to follow you."

"Thats the same lady you were just on the phone to?"

"Ye-he yyes."

Mack closed his knife and put it back in to his pocket. "Good. Give me your phone, then you can leave."

Mack stood up, allowing the man to get off of the ground. The man hurriedly got up and ran away.

Mack walked to the hotel and up to his room immediately. He stood in the middle of the room thinking.

Who's having me followed? The old man or Peter Novak's people?

"Fuck it." Mack stood there for another moment. "Sultry vixen."

Old Man

Melissa awoke early from her slumber; the clock on the night stand said it was 02:50. Pete was still asleep next to her. She got up silently and walked out of the bedroom. It was an amazingly large house and always had seemed cold and unwelcoming to her. She made her way down to Pete's office where she closed the door behind her and turned a lamp on. She didn't have much time and had a lot of documents to search through. It had been about a month ago that a man had approached her.

She had been running as she did three times a week. As she was running she heard the footsteps of someone behind her. The man quickly caught her even though she had stepped up the pace somewhat. The man ran beside her for a few minutes then asked her a question.

"Do you consider yourself to be a moral person?"

She did not answer but rather started running even faster. The man chuckled as he easily caught up to her and asked the question again.

"Melissa Holden, running away from your problems never helps. I repeat, do you consider yourself to be a moral person."

The man knows my name. What do I do.

"What do you want?"

"There is a car coming up at the end of the park. I would like you to get in it. You will not be hurt, I give you my word." The man then hands Melissa his credentials which show that he works for the London Police. She hands the badge back to the man after she has a good look. 

She ran for a little longer before she turned to say OK, but found that the man was not there anymore.

At the end of the park she found that the man had not been lying. There was indeed a car waiting for her. A man stood there with the back door open of a black sedan with darkened windows. 

Melissa slowed down and stopped about 15 feet from the car, hesitating. She saw an old decrepit looking man poke his head out of the car door.

"Come here, come here. Its OK, you're safe." said the old man.

Melissa hesitated further then slowly got into the car. 

Melissa felt a pang of deja vu as the man started talking. "Morality is a difficult subject is it not, Melissa? My name is Archer; I work for the British Government. We know that you have intimate relations with Mr. Peter Novak. I am wondering if you know what kind of person he is." At this point Archer handed Melissa a manila folder.

Melissa took the folder then looked at Archer. She opened the folder slowly and found that it was full of pictures; lots of horrific pictures of dead people. She flipped through the pictures slowly; taking in the dead after more dead.

"Wha..."

"These are pictures of a village in lower Africa that a mysterious disease broke out in. Everyone in the village died. They died quickly as deaths go, but you can be sure that they suffered before they passed."

"What does this have to do with me, with me or Pete?"

"This atrocity was covered in the news briefly, Miss Holden. What was not covered was that under this village is a rather large deposit of pollucite. You see pollucite is the principal ore of cesium which until recently was only found in a few places in the world. As you probably know, Magmus made most of its money about 10 years ago from a device they created that can find deposits of heavy isotopes from space. They made lots and lots of money selling this technology to the government's of NATO. Anyways, pollucite as I said, is the principal ore of cesium. Scientist recently discovered how to create a fission nuclear device from cesium isotopes. Confused yet? It is all so confusing to me, at least."

"Again, what does this have to do with Pete and I?"

"Ah, did I not say?"

"Uhh no, you didn't"

"Well, first, the scientist that discovered how to create a fission nuclear device from cesium isotopes work for Magmus Corporation. And, second, the atrocity that happened in Namibia is because of a virus that Magmus Corporation released."

"Wha...I-I don't believe you."

"I thought you might say that. Please see the last document in the folder I gave you."

Melissa flipped to the last document and started to read it. It was an internal memo from Magmus regarding a warehouse transfer from Lancashire, UK for a shipment of medicine to Namibia.

The old man did not wait for the young woman to respond. "So, what I need is for you to find more proof. We do not have enough yet. Don't answer. Just think it over. Here is my card." Archer handed Melissa a business card that was blank save a single phone number on it.

"Thank you for your time, Miss Holden. Is there somewhere I could drop you off."

"No, here is fine. uh... bye"

"And Miss Holden, for your own safety I would suggest that you don't mention me or our conversation to Mr. Novak. Good bye, Miss Holden."

Melissa closed the filing cabinet drawer she had been looking at just as she heard someone coming down the hallway.

Pete must be awake.

She watched at the glass door as she saw a shadow go in to the bathroom. She opened the door and silently ran down to the bedroom. She had been looking for 3 weeks now for documents and she had not found anything. She was glad because she was not sure, but thought she was falling in love with Peter. 

Its absurd to think that he did those things anyways. This was Peter, he wouldn't hurt a fly.

Pete walks back in to the bedroom at that point. "Where were you, gorgeous?"

"I was getting a drink from the kitchen. Come here, you can finish what you started earlier, but seemed unable to finish."

"I fell asleep! You're so hard on me!"

"I'm not hard on you, now get down there!"

Back In

A hand came down to put out a cigarette into an already overflowing ashtray. Smoke rose to the top of the yellowed ceiling, threating to drown all oxygen out of the room. The old man got up from his chair slowly, stretching his muscles in the process. He grabbed his cane and headed for his office door. 

He got to his office door and shouts out, "Somebody, come here."

The office of around 20 people came to a stop. People kind of look around as one person volunteers by standing up. 

"Not you, where is....where is David." came the old man's voice.

David stood up and came towards the old man. 

"Good, David, walk with me." They walked to the center of the complex which was the only place in the whole building where a person could enjoy the sky, clouds, and sun. They walked out in to the court yard and sat down on a bench. The old man lit up a cigarette as he sat there thinking for a moment.

"David, we have got a big op coming up. You know that Alex is down in Morocco right now. You and everyone else is probably wondering why. I'm reading you and Sander's on to this operation. Let him know."

"Is this to do with Magmus Corporation?"

"I knew there was a reason we hired you. Thats right. We believe Magmus is developing a stable isotope of Cesium that would allow use in a fission powered nuclear device to be small enough to fit into say a backpack or suitcase. Yes, nuclear weapons can already fit in to such a small delivery system. The problem with this new isotope is that it is believed that it could be fabricated by almost anyone once the initial technology is created. After you get read on, I want you to assemble a team. that has intricate knowledge of SoAf and that has gone through the Radioactive Weapons course. The team will be lead by Michael Makin."

"I thought Makin was disavowed?"

"That will be all, thank you."

"Yes sir."

David left the courtyard to begin preparations for the operation. The old man sat there for another minute thinking before getting up and walking back to his office. He sat down slowly as he put his cane to the side. He picked up the phone to dial Alex. 

"Hello?"

"This is Archer. I got your message. How is our mutual friend?"

"He just got back from Rabat this morning."

"Good. I need you to approach him."

There was a pause as Alex thought about how to answer. "OK."

"Alex, I get the distinct feeling that you disobeyed me and approached him already."

There is another pause. "I approached him the first night he got to Casablanca. I know you told me to watch from afar. I was curious though. I have heard so much about him and I just wanted to talk to him. He's a nice guy."

"Girl, don't tell me what he is and is not!" Said the old man's voice ferociously. There was a pause on Archer's side of the phone this time. "Michael needs to be handled carefully right now. After what happened to him he is...." Another pause. "wound a little tight I'm afraid."

I suppose it's good that the old man does not know that I slept with him. 

"Yes, sir."

There was silence from Archer's side for a while, "Alex, you're a good agent. Thats why I gave you this assignment, but don't let yourself get caught disobeying me again. Do you know why he goes by Mack?"

"Yes, he got the name when he was in the SAS, right?"

"Right, when he was in the SAS one of the missions I sent him and his teams on was to rescue some hostages in Afghanistan. They parachuted in to the compound at night and killed most of the terrorist, while making their exit they were ambushed. Michael sent his team with the hostages to the evacuation point. He stayed behind to hold off the badies. He killed 9 of them before he was taken down. Well, he had always taught his team to be...." the old man paused for a minute. "a little disobedient. This was something that I was against, however I could never deny Michael's results. So half of his team came back, finished off the other 3 badies, and helped Michael to the pickup. They joked at that point that he must have been like a bulldog in a fight, so they started calling him Mack. Consequently that's when BOB got his name also. BOB carried Michael back to the chopper. They were the best team I've ever had. They are also, well there are things that you don't know that I'm not at liberty to discuss with you about him."

"I had heard parts of the story before. What things?"

A knock came at Alex's hotel room then. She moved silently to the peep hole and saw that it was Mack.

"Its him." She whispered.

"Really?" Archer paused. "Get your weapon and be careful, bye."

Alex put the phone in her pocket and drew her Bereta from her bag. "Coming."

Alex put her piece down the back of her jeans then opened the door.

"Hi Mack, this is an unexpected surprise."

"Hi! I was in the area and thought I would come by and see you. How are you?"

Mack stepped forward towards Alex. "I'm good. Just finished my last meeting yesterday." 

"I think we both know that we are past that." Mack lunged with both fist towards Alex's chest. She dodged the attack knowing that she would not be able to block his attacks which were more powerful then her. She kicked him in the knee from the side as she swung around. In a fluid motion he knelt to the ground with the knee that had been struck, and used his hands against the floor to propel a kick towards her chest again. She flew back in the air while she drew her weapon from behind her. When she looked up though Mack had already rolled to the left and was holding a gun to her head.

"Slowly, put down your weapon. Make no mistakes, I will put a bullet in your head if you try anything."

Alex slowly laid her weapon on the bed which Mack promptly picked up. 

"Michael, I was sent by Archer. He wants you back in for one last mission."

"I have a mission of my own, thanks."

"I think you will find that they are one and the same." 

Mack stood there with his weapon pointed at Alex's head. He pulled a couple of security ties out of his backpack. "Here, you know what to do with these."

"Michael...."

Don't talk, secure your hands."

Alex took the security ties and bound her hands together pulling them tight with her teeth.

"Good, now put your feet through your arms."

"Michael..." He flashed at Alex momentarily before pulling duct tape out of his backpack. 

"MICHA..." Mack quickly put a piece of tape on her mouth, which he took great pleasure in.

"Shhhhhh. First, I have had an extremely uncomfortable morning and second, we don't know each other nearly well enough for you to call me that. 

Anger flashed in Alex's eyes. She grudgingly obeyed by rolling back on the bed and pushing her legs through her bound arms causing her them to be in the back now. Mack came over and frisked her roughly. Which she was sure he was enjoying far too much. He found her knife and a phone in her pocket.

"Is this your secure GSM?"

"Yes." Alex let out a small sigh.

Mack thumbed through the contact list until he got to the number he was looking for. He dialed the number and put the phone to his ear.

"Hello, Mack"

"Hello, old man"

"Is Alex, OK?"

"Yes, she is fine." Mack tossed Alex's knife on to her lap since he was sure who she was now and lowered his weapon. "I'm going secure." The phone made some modem noises for a few seconds.

"How much did Alex tell you?"

"Not enough." Said Mack bluntly.

"Drop the hostility, Michael."

"Your agent is still alive."

"Touche'. I want your help and I know that you need ours. The man you are after, the man that is responsible for your wife's death is a larger fish than you know." Archer paused.

"I'm listening."

"I've formed a team that I want you to lead. We are going to take his operations down."

Mack paused before responding. "If you are involved now, why don't you just arrest him?"

"We don't have any firm evidence yet. We have someone on the inside but they are finding it difficult to get the information we need. I have gotten approval to..."

"to run an op?"

Alex cut her hands free and then held her hand out to Mack. Mack took the magazine out of her gun and emptied the chamber of its round. He then handed Alex her weapon.

"Yes." Came Archer's voice through the phone. "Are you in?"

Mack sighed, "I don't suppose I have a choice. You will send details?"

"Good and yes I will send details. I'm glad you are with me, let me speak to Alex."

"Your not training them as well as you use to." Mack handed the phone to Alex.

A flash of fury came across Alex's face as she took the phone. Mack had said the last comment for her benefit. The truth was that she was good and he knew it.

"Good job, Alex."

"But..."

"It's alright, don't feel bad. He's one of the best. And, Alex...."

"Yes."

"As a rule of thumb, you shouldn't sleep with the enemy. It makes you weak."

"Sir..."

"We will talk further when you get back."

"Yes sir."

Mack watched Alex as she hung up the phone. She stood there and he could see the anger building in her. 

Shite, to close.

Alex jabbed quickly at Mack's chin twice with her left fist before catching him with a hook with her right. She stood there in a fighting stance ready to go a second round. Mack was unsure that he would win this one if it started.

"I have no wish to fight you. I'm sure you have my number. Call me when Archer sends the packet."

Leaving

In a small town in Namibia several houses were scattered in an unplanned manner out in the African countryside. It was a beautiful site with plains of grass and small sections of trees extending from the town for many miles before the next town. A small clinic was in the center of the town that at one time the people went to get treated for injuries and to receive vaccinations. Several cooperative vegetable gardens were organized in the back of the houses with a small church in the center of the town next to the clinic. 

A gentle breeze blew through the town drying the laundry that was hanging on the lines behind the houses. The sun, although very hot was bearable today. The town was not large enough to have an official name and the inhabitants never knew the town by any name other than home. 

The town seemed empty of people today though. There were no children playing. No one was working in the vegetable garden. In fact not a single person walked in the town. They were all gathered for a town meeting in the church.

A total of thirteen people sat in the modestly decorated church. The church, which had been built many years ago was completely built out of wood. Although it was modest a lot of love had gone in to its construction. The diversified group had adults, children, women, men, blacks, and whites. They sat intermingled with each other in an indiscriminate blending of friendship. The adults chatted with each other as the children played quietly in the pews. A man got up from the second pew; he put his hand on people's shoulders as he passed by. Abeeku slowly walked to the podium and gravely looked at the crowd.

"Hello everyone. I hope you are all well."

There are collective hello's from the group.

"I called everyone here because I have a few things that I wanted to say." Abeeku took a drink of water from the glass on the podium. "After helping to bury most of my family and friends a couple of weeks ago; I felt a want to ....." he paused as he found it difficult to keep his emotions under control. "....share my feelings on the matter. I know everyone here has lost as much as I have and I wanted to question the group also on where they thought we should go from here."

"I have lived in this town my entire life. I have raised three beautiful children that I thank God moved away long ago. I am for staying. I am a hard worker and would like for us to try and rebuild."

"The question I have is; how can we maintain this community with so few people?" Said a young black man. 

"That is a good question and one that we should address, Majaliwa."

"We have no doctor, no teacher, and half of the work force that could normally have tended the garden and livestock are now older than 50. Our entire livestock of goats and cattle have perished, also. I personally am going to have to go else where to live and find work."

There were some nods from the group as others agreed with Majaliwa's statement.

"I understand the pain you feel Abeeku. The times I have wished that I had not been away when this tragedy happened. That I could have been here and could have died with my wife and daughter. The pain has been great for all of us. This disease or virus; its unthinkable that this could affect so many people. Majaliwa, although we have not known each other that long. I also feel that I could not stay here. There is just to much hurt now." said Mack.

Abeeku paused again as tears welled in his eyes. The land on which this town was built had been his home for over 40 years. He had raised two beautiful sons that were now dead along with his granddaughter. With all the hurt that he felt, he still wished to live out his remaining days here. But he understood why a lot of the younger people wanted to leave. This tragedy had taken a town of around 250 people down to thirteen. He knew it was impossible to keep the community going.




Mack



Shadows

Mack continued to run in place; sweat dripped down his face as he tried to get away from the shadows. He tripped as the strength in his legs gave out and flew forward to the ground. He laid there thinking for a moment about the ramifications of his fall. He had actually moved forward on the ground. Mack got up quickly and dug his foot into the ground and tried to step forward. It succeeded! He could make a little headway by digging each foot into the ground and propelling himself forward; he slowly started to pick up speed moving like this. 

The trees which moved around on the forest floor on their own started to move in front of him. The branches started to move lower to the ground attempting to block his path. He turned around and saw that the shadows were still there; ever there. They would not go away and; where previously they had stayed the same distance behind him, now since he had learned how to move on this hellish ground they had started to move closer to him. Mack had no choice now, he would have to face them. He stopped running and turned around to look at the shadows. They came at him with frightening speed. One of the trees branches swung around and hit him in the back. He caught himself before he fell and was able to duck a second branch. He grabbed the branch and pulled hard, ripping the limb from its socket. He immediately swung the branch around at one of the shadow's torso areas. The branch went right through the shadowy area causing Mack to swing wildly almost losing his balance. The shadows paused for a moment before they moved in and surrounded Mack. Their faces warped as large teeth grew out and gnashed at him again. Everything went dark around him.

"Nooooo!" Mack awoke in a hellish sweat that drenched clear through to the mattress as the phone rang in his hotel room bringing him out of his night terror. He got up slowly and stumbled over to the phone. 

"He....Hello" He said into the phone.

"You just wake up?"

"Ya.....Ya I did. Whats up?"

"Look, I uh....would you like to join me for a cup of coffee?"

"Sure, I would love too."

"Great. I'm downstairs. I'll be waiting for you."

Mack hung up the phone slowly and shook his head fiercely. 

The information from Archer must be here?

Mack grabbed his jeans off of the chair where he had thrown them last night. He looked in his closet and grabbed a fresh white shirt and his brown sports jacket before walking downstairs.

As he walked down the last few steps opening to the hotel lobby he saw Alex sitting alone at the bar. Her long curls flowed down her blue and green summer dress. She looked up from her thoughts as he approached. Her green eyes met with Michael's and there was a knowing understanding shared between them.

Man she is gorgeous

"Hi, Mack."

"Hi." Mack said as he took the bar stool next to her. He then looked at the bartender. "Lager, please."

"Look, can we ..... start over?"

The bartender put Mack's beer down in front of him. He took a long drink before answering.

"Sure thing, Green Eyes."

Alex looked at Michael for a moment as she took a sip of her espresso. She was as attracted to him now as she had been the first time they had met. 

"I thought we were having coffee?" She smiled at him.

"I needed a hair of the dog. I've been having some ......interesting dreams lately." He wondered why he had just told her that.

"Interesting dreams?"

"Yea, its not important. Did Archer send the info through?"

"Yes I received it this morning. We should .... go.... up to your room, their on my laptop."

"Alright, but I'm not sleeping with you." Mack said bluntly.

That was a bit harsh of me

"That's good, Mack. I'm glad we both agree on that." She said coolly as she downed the rest of her espresso. "Should we go then?"

Mack paused before taking another long drink of his beer. "I....., that was a bit harsh, I apologize." 

"Don't worry about it, water on a duck's back. I forgive you."

"Good." Mack motions towards the staircase. "After you."



MacKenzie



The beating of the music pounded in time with my heart. I couldn't tell you who was playing. Some young rock group, pouring their hearts into music that no one was really paying much attention to. The smoke from cigarettes, legal and not so legal filled my nostrils and clouded my vision. It was your typical crowded bar scene. Loud and annoying, the perfect place for me to be.

I leaned up against the bar, watching the bartender cheat the drunk or high customers, a very aggressive young entrepreneur, he should go far, assuming that he didn't cheat the wrong customer. I had to chuckle at that. I listened in on snippets of conversations. I heard young couples flirting, business deals from the hit of weed all the way up to the promise of 'very' enjoyable companionship. This was Satan's place, and I was able to blend in perfectly.

Without turning around, I knew she was there. I could smell the fragrance of her perfume. I could hear the footfalls she made as she approached the bar. I knew much about her. Her favorite drink, what she smoked. I knew what she liked for breakfast. I felt as if I had known her for years, but I had never before met her.

No, my dear friend, I did not stalk this young woman. Well, I guess I did, but not for the reasons you may think. I did not lust for the curves of her body, sumptuous as they may be. Her skin soft to the touch, held no allure for me. I had to admit that she was desirable to look at, and many a man would gladly go home with this young blonde. Dressed in her tight outfit that was designed to attract men, to tease them with views of her flesh. To entice and frustrate. Yes, any man would find her a tasty morsel.

So did I. However, not for the same reasons.

She was my prey. I was here in Satan's place, and I hunted his children. And tonight this young woman would be mine to dine on. Though, she came to hunt for male companionship, tonight, she was the hunted. I thirsted for blood as I had done so for to long. Last, I had feasted on her friend. And, through him, I knew her. Soon, I would feast on her.

I felt her presence as she neared me. In my mind, I tracked her movements. As she stopped for small talk with friends, I guessed what she talked about. I listened as she flirted with one guy or another. As she made her way closer to the bar, I could feel my hunger grow. Soon I would be satisfied of my cravings and could go back to my normal self for a while longer. Till the cravings came back. Till, once again I had to reenter Satan's place and hunt his minions.

Once I again, I had to curse the one that made me this way. But now was not the time to dwell on such things.

She made her way to the bar. There was a bit of space between us, she made a quick glance at me and looked me over. I caught a inviting smile before she turned to the bartender.

The bartender, apparently in a rage of hormones made his way over to take her order. Now was the time for me to begin to snare my trap. I spoke up before she could.

"Vodka, barkeep. For the lady," I said, she looked momentarily amused and surprised. "And, a bit of apple juice for taste."

She went from amused to surprised, "I'm impressed."

I held up my drink, the same drink. "Just recognize someone with selective taste."

I could tell that I had her attention, at least for the moment.

"So Kristie," I continued, "Enjoy your drink."

I could see that the amusement had quickly become fear. Her body language became one of a trapped animal. I could actually see that her heart was beating faster, and that the blood I craved move faster. I fought the urge to lick my lips. 

"Do I know you?" she asked with more than a hint of fear in her voice

"No." was my only reply. Sometimes I felt the overwhelming urge to play with my food.

Her eyes narrowed, "Then how do you...?" she stammered. Then trying to regain her composure, "Mind reading?"

I commented, "I am a friend of Morris'."

I could see her visibly relax. She held out her hand, "And you are?"

I took it and pressed my lips to it. Never once not maintaining eye contact, "They call me Mackenzie."

I smiled, "Friends call me Mac."

She looked at me and took a long drag of her cigarette. Playfully she said, "And what do I call you?" 

"Anything you wish." I then went on, "Hopefully, soon your dance partner."

She smiled and we walked off to the dance floor. The music had a definite techno sound to it now. The floor was crowded. I had to control myself, near all those warm bodies, with that delicious blood, just under the skin. All I had to do is reach out .....

I snapped myself back to attention as we started to dance. At least, what passed as dancing in this club in this day. Our bodies moved against each other in time to the music. As she turned her back to me, I drew her near me and my hands slowly made their way to her hips. My lips softly nibbling on her ear, then slowly down her neck to the spot where neck meets shoulder. Despite the noise of the club and her dancing, I could hear a soft moan escape her lips.

After a few minutes of this she turned around and gave me a kiss which I returned. She smiled seductively and took me by the hand and led me off the dance floor. I thought that we would be leaving now, but I was surprised when she led me to a door far to the back of the club.

We went down a dark passage way, that had several openings where I could see smaller private rooms. I could catch the odd glimpse here or there and people in those dimly lit rooms. What they where doing was in the realms of the observer's perverse imagination.

Finally, we reached an open room, and before we ducked in she turned and put her arms around me. We shared a passionate kiss as she ran her hands over my body. I trembled in anticipation as she did this. Close, I thought, so close.

Once inside, I took a quick survey of the room. The room bathed in a dim blue light was sparsely furnished. A large couch with a easy chair took up on side. The center had a sort of coffee table. We made our way to the couch, kissing and caressing each other.

By now, I was being driven mad with my needs. I could feel her pulse just below her skin. I could feel the warmth of her body and taste her skin. My hands were all over her body, touching, molding themselves to her. I could feel her growing arousal.

By now, I had her shirt removed and pushed aside her bra. My hands and lips quickly moved to caress and kiss the newly exposed skin. She started rocking in my lap, her hands holding the back of my head trying desperately to push my head closer. 

She stood suddenly, smiled and turned as she started to unbutton her pants. I was up in a flash and my arms encircled her, cupping her breasts. She moaned as my lips found their way to just below her ear. She moaned in pleasure, but that quickly became a moan of pain as my teeth sunk into her skin and I began to drink.

I could feel her squirm in the agony and ecstasy of the moment, her desperate attempts to escape. Attempts that I noticed where getting weaker and weaker as her life force drained into me, finally ceasing all together. I held her closer as she went limp in my arms. I sobbed quietly in both satisfaction and despair. I held my breath and in a quick moment grabbed her neck and head and twisted till I heard the snap of he neck and certain death.

I said a silent prayer for her as I exited the room and melted into the crowd, and finally left the club. I rushed for my home.

------------------------------------------------

Finally, I laid there in my bed drenched with sweat as a replay of the nights events played out in my mind. Every smell and sound down to the last detail. It was then that it hit me. Her memories. A curse I carried, as well as a blessing. The memories of my victims were always swept up in the blood I drank. Within in a few maddening minutes, I lived her life. The pain, the anguish, the love and the highs; all now stored in my mind. To be used to find my next victim. 

Once again I found myself staring at the ceiling in anger, cursing a invisible god that did not answer me. For the millionth time, I vowed my vengeance on he that had made me what I am. I cursed him, and what he had made me..

"You okay in there" a voice called out.

I looked at the door startled out of my lament. "I'm okay Mrs. Rigby," I replied, "just a nightmare."

I heard he reply, "Oh, well I'll be downstairs."

I looked over at the clock and noted it was a little before six AM. I drug myself out of bed and made my way to the shower. Maybe a good, hot shower. Soon I felt the stress melt away under the steam and heat of the water.

Minutes later, I was dressed again and heading down the stairs. I ran into the kindly old matron, Mrs. Rigby in the kitchen. I grabbed an apple from the table as I made my way to the door.

"No breakfast, this mornin'?" she asked in a motherly voice. I stopped and gave the old woman a peck on the cheek.

"Not hungry. I had something earlier" I replied. I went on, "I'll be working late tonight."

I could see the disapproving look she shot me, "Glory be," she said, "You'll work yourself into the grave if you keep these hours!"

I had a big smile at the thought. If only, I thought, if only.

"Have a good day, Mrs. Rigby," I said reaching for the door knob.

"You too Father Mackenzie." I heard as I shut the door behind me.



Mackenzie





Mackenzie didn't see any exit signs, didn't pass any mile markers. There was no single thing that let her know she was headed this way, but nevertheless, there she was. Driving down the road that was her life, she had gone off of the expressway and into a rut. Damn. Not even an attractive word, and yet symbolic of her feelings in way that hit too close to home. Home. Another word that just didn't measure up to her hopes for the word. Yet here she was, about to leave home for the umpteenth time to get in her car and head back into the rut. She married young, right out of college. She had her first child, a son, when she turned thirty, and her daughter at thirty three. Two years later she started noticing a sameness to the lovemaking with her husband. By the time she turned thirty seven, she became the only one to initiate sex. By forty, even that dwindled to near zero.

Shrugging off her gray mood, her thoughts were buoyed by two things: the job and career that she found so much satisfaction with, and her two kids that brought such intense feelings of joy to her very gray life. It was everything else that was responsible for growing melancholy. Fuck it, she thought to herself, I'm going to have a good day anyway. Slipping out of bed so as not to wake her husband, she showered, dressed, and headed to work. 

She was not a woman to let a problem fester, nor one to feel sorry for herself. This morning, she occupied her thoughts with trying to pin down what it was that was bugging her most. Once you give a name to the devil, she thought, it's easier to chase him out of the room. She knew that if she could name two or three things that were getting her down, she could address them one at a time. By the time she got onto the northbound freeway, she had Number One: Sex. It's not that it was bad, but that for the last few years, it either wasn't any different or wasn't there at all. An image popped into her head; John Cleese, in "A Fish Called Wanda", getting ready to go to bed with the shrill harpy that was his wife. A shudder passed through her. No way! She'd never let herself get that far into a freakin' rut.

At forty years old, her body's sexual energy was at its peak, and here she was with a twice-a-quarter, fifteen-minutes-and-a-nap sex life. No wonder I'm in a funk, she thought, as she sped up to meet the early-morning rush hour traffic. Now, how to fix this?



Two months after her commuter's epiphany, she hadn't solved her problem, and her frustration was growing. Initially, her plan worked. She pulled all of her seduction tricks out of the bag, and started working on her husband. It was great the first couple of times. She fixed romantic dinners, wore clothes she thought would get a rise out of a cadaver, and rented some steamy movies to watch before bed. Her husband responded well to the seduction, and the missing spark rekindled into a small tongue of flame licking the bigger logs. Unfortunately for Mackenzie, they always wound up in the bedroom, in the missionary position, with her watching him sleep after fifteen minutes. If anything, her unease was far worse now, because her engines were revved up, but she wasn't getting the release she wanted.

One Tuesday, she was eating her lunch at a sidewalk café, the weather being particularly nice, even for South Florida in the winter. The café was busy, the clientele was mix of natives and snowbirds escaping the really gray weather that she was so glad she didn't have to endure. Two women, very well-dressed, sat at the table next to her. Either they didn't think their voices would carry to her, or they didn't care. They looked to be in their middle forties, were slender, pretty, and had that sleek look of security and beauty that is seen so often this time of year.

"Kate, I finally decided to meet the guy I was telling you about."

"You're kidding! Tall and in charge, or the twenty-five year old?"

"Tall and In Charge."

"Mmmm, goody. Now tell me everything."

"Well, we'd been chatting online for a few weeks, and he really seemed to know what I wanted. You know how so many guys want to know if you'll meet them behind the Publix in fifteen minutes, or start off a hot chat session with 'On your knees, bitch.' You know the type."

"Booger-eating morons, every one of them."

"You do know the type. Anyway, this guy was different. He really knew how to push my buttons, so to speak. Anyway, we met for lunch in Wellington last week. He started off by telling me that if this was going to work, it would have to start right away. He said, either you accept all of my decisions right now, or we have a nice lunch and that's the end of it.

"I was a little scared, but I told him I agreed. You're not going to believe what happened next!"

"Believe me, Susan, I'm all ears."

"We sat down, and he said he was going to ask me some questions, and that he only wanted me to answer with as close to one word as possible, and that any deviation from the truth would be grounds for punishment later."

"You're kidding!"

"Then, he said I wasn't to talk to the waiter for any reason, and that I should hold my hands in my lap until he said otherwise.

"When the waiter came, he ordered lunch for both of us, and then he fed me my lunch, one bite at a time, while he ate his lunch. It was so sexy, I was dripping by the time the entrees arrived."

Just at that moment, a family of three was seated at the table on the other side of the two women, and they changed the subject. Mackenzie was intrigued, and really wanted to hear the rest of the story, but she had to get back to work.

For the rest of the day, the start of Susan's story kept replaying in her head. That night, after her husband had gone to sleep, she got on the internet and started looking around. She learned that there was a ton of information about sex, power, control and submission. She started reading.



When Mackenzie decided she had read enough, it was time to act. She knew she didn't want to meet any of Kate's "Booger-eating morons", and she had heard plenty of horror stories about girls meeting creeps online. She knew she would have a friend standing by, ready to make a phone call to the police if she didn't check in. That part didn't bother her; she wasn't stupid or timid, and could always handle herself well around men. 

She chose an adult dating web site, and set up an account. She chose an innocuous screen name, and would be known as "Lk2tryNew2009". Right away, she was stunned at how crude some of the advertisements were. It looked like she was in the trailer park version of online dating. Grainy photos of obscenely fat women with one enormous breast in their own mouth, rail-thin crackheads on all fours, and penises everywhere. How would she be able to spot someone worth talking to, if all she could see was a picture of a hard-on taken so close that the hair surrounding it looked like sticks? Still, she was determined to stick it out for at least one month. The old college try, she told herself.

She filled out the profile information, not wanting to give too much away, and still wanting to attract someone at least reasonably put together. She gave the narrative part some thought, and settled on some pretty mild language about what she was looking for and what she thought she wanted in a man. Being a fundamentally honest person, she noted that she was involved in a relationship that she didn't want to bail on, but that she needed a little something extra. Next, the she selected her sexual preferences from the laundry list of diversions available. As she started to read the choices, she felt butterflies in her stomach, and felt an urge to fidget in her seat. She was getting wet! Idly, as she checked off "D/S", "Bondage", "Light Kinky Fun", her left hand drifted into her lap, and she began tracing slow, lazy circles through her panties. This was hot!

Mackenzie finished posting the ad, shut down her computer, and went in to take a bath before going to bed for the night. She positioned herself so that the stream of water from the spout brought her to a surprisingly fast and intense orgasm.

The next days were a riot of work, errands, chores, and a dinner party with another couple. It was four days before she had enough time and privacy to check the results of her ad. She was hoping to find at least five responses. When she finally got logged in, her jaw nearly hit the floor. Almost six hundred fifty replies! Jackpot! Her elation was short-lived, however. By the time she sorted through all of the responses, she was convinced that every single male, and a surprising number of females, wanted to insert body parts and objects into her in a way that no woman had ever witnessed in the entirety of human history. Yech. Not one response she received was remotely interesting. Maybe next time, she thought to herself. Alas, she did not see any improvement the next time she checked in. She would have to figure out a way to filter some of this crap, or would simply have to cancel. She started by changing her profile, to try and weed out some of the penis photographers. She also found a way to restrict her incoming email to those that lived in Florida. A start, anyway.

Mackenzie was discouraged, and beginning to think that this idea was a waste of time, when one message caught her eye. "I think you should read this", was the subject. She opened it, and found a photograph of a smiling, good-looking man of about forty five years, with salt-and-pepper hair and a cute twinkle in his eye.

'If you are who I think you are, and if you are looking for what I think you are looking for, please read this carefully, and think about what I have written. I derive my pleasure from being given the gift of power from women. I use that power to do for them what they cannot or will not do for themselves. I use control, dominance, physical strength and will in a way that lets a woman know it is OK to let go of those same things for the duration of our encounter. Anticipation, control, restraint, and discipline are the tools with which I build and then release a tremendous amount of a woman's sexual energy.

If I have struck a chord with you, and you want to explore your feelings and limits with me, then there is a possibility that I will agree to meet with you. First, I must know many things about you. Spend some time writing your response to me, and tell me about yourself. Spare no detail, but what you tell me must be intensely personal. Second, anything you tell me from this moment on must be the absolute, unvarnished truth. I am always truthful, and I ask the same from you. It is the only way we will begin to build enough trust for you to truly submit to me. I look forward to your response."

Mackenzie was intrigued. A week later, she sat down, and began to tell a complete stranger all about her most intimate and personal sexual feelings.

Thirty miles away and four days after Mackenzie began to type her response, a man sat in a darkened room, lonely in a house full of people, reading. As he read, a smile began to spread on his face. It had been many years since he had met someone who could give herself so completely over to him. Kimberly was the last, and like the others, she had grown up a little more after the man had awakened the ability to freely give and receive power, and had returned to her own life, richer and stronger. Maybe Mackenzie could be another. Time would tell.



Two Mondays ago, Mackenzie unexpectedly received some flowers at work. The office clerk brought them into her classroom, with an inquisitive look borne from spending too much time watching late-night soap operas. Her students erupted into a ripple of giggles and smirks. Mackenzie restored order with a look that warned off any further silliness and looked at the flowers. A single orchid, beautiful and perfect, nestled in a bouquet of roses. The card read, "This is you, solitary and beautiful, surrounded by beauty and love." There was no signature. Puzzled, she went to put the flowers on the credenza behind her desk, and noticed an envelope tucked into the roses. She opened the envelope. Inside was a hotel reservation, printed from an online travel agency. On the paper, in a neat hand, was written, "You are ready." It was signed with a single letter G. Her heart thumped in her chest. He was actually going to meet with her!

Four weeks later, the seconds groaned by, and it seemed to Mackenzie that the clock was perversely refusing to move forward, in an effort to prevent her workday from finishing. Today was the day she was going to meet the man she had been corresponding with. Today was going to be the end of the emails. The end of the phone calls. The end of the anticipation. It was Thursday. Tuesday, another package arrived at her work, containing a black cocktail dress and instructions to meet him at the nicest seafood restaurant in Juno Beach at six o'clock Thursday.

Finally, her day ground to an end. She changed into the little black dress in the faculty bathroom and headed south. She had no idea what to expect; she only knew that if any more adrenalin pumped into her stomach, she might explode. She found the restaurant, parked, and went inside. She had only the picture that he had included with his first email, and she wasn't confident that she would recognize him. There was no one waiting for her at the hostess' stand, so she went to the bar and ordered a martini. God, her nerves were jumping!

After a couple of sips, she sensed someone standing behind her. She turned to look, and the man from the picture was there, with a warm smile on his face. 

"You must be Mackenzie. I'm pleased to finally meet you." He extended his hand. It was warm. Strong, with the sense that there had been some hard work in his past. Mackenzie smiled back, as he motioned her back to her seat.

He ordered a single malt scotch, rocks. When his drink arrived, he took a sip, pausing as if to let the smoky warmth of the scotch seep into him. He looked at Mackenzie and said,

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me, but they'll have to keep until I get a couple of ground rules on the table. First and foremost, did you set up your safety net like I asked you to? Please keep your answers short and on point."

"Yes, I did."

"Good. Place your first phone call now, please."

Mackenzie took her phone out of her purse and dialed. After a moment, she looked at the man and began talking to her friend.

"Carol, it's Mackenzie."

"Yes, everything is OK. We're about to go into dinner. We're at the restaurant in Juno. Yep, two hours. I'll call you around eight. Bye."

As she put her phone away, the man said,

"Thank you. Now, onto the other rules, and then we can relax and enjoy our dinner. 

"You have told me a tremendous amount of information about yourself over the last month, and I feel like I have gotten to know you from the inside out. Thank you. It took a great deal of courage to open up to me like that. I have given you precious little about myself in return. It will, unfortunately, probably stay that way for some time. I am going to extend question privileges to you over the course of dinner, with some caveats. First, you may not ask questions about what's in store for you tonight. Second, if I say that I won't answer a question, there is no appeal. You will go to your grave as a grandmother, never knowing the answer."

As he spoke, Mackenzie watched him, trying to get the sense of him. He was about six feet tall, with powerful-looking arms and shoulders. No stranger to hard work, for sure. He had the kind of square build that often leads to a drooping belly. While not exactly slim and trim, he carried his size well. He had neatly cut medium-dark hair, shot through with salt-and-pepper. It gave him a distinguished look that suddenly made her feel like she was fifteen again, colt-legged and giggly. What she noticed the most, and damn near fell into, was his eyes. His green eyes had a direct, steady gaze that she found captivating. Crow's feet were beginning to show at the corners, making him look like he was always smiling.

He was dressed in a pair of casual slacks, with a tropical shirt. A pair of sunglasses rested on the top of his head. He was wearing leather boat shoes, with no socks. The only jewelry she could see was a wristwatch and the small silver chain of a necklace. Very Tommy Bahama, she thought to herself. Still, it was a pleasant look, and overall, she found him attractive.

Their drinks finished, they moved to a quiet table in a nearly empty section of the restaurant.

"OK. Now it's your turn. I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me, and I'm pretty sure you're wrapped pretty tight right now. Rather than relaxing with another martini, let's just have a pleasant conversation. You'll be surprised at how relaxing it can be."

A torrent of questions burst into her mind. She chose the first one, and started to let fly.

"What's your name? How old are you? Where do you live?"

"Hold on, hold on. One question at a time." The man chuckled, smiling at her again.

"My name is Geoff."......

There was a steady, delicious parade of food. Appetizers, entrees, and dessert. He handled the ordering, and each course segued into the other with delicious harmony. They exchanged tastes of the other's meal, and shared a bottle of wine. They talked, and the conversation flowed as smoothly as the wine. Questions were asked and answered, experiences were shared. There was a gentle probing of philosophies from both sides of the table, and a discovery of commonality. Mackenzie could feel the nervousness and tension slipping away. When the waitress asked if there would be anything else that they needed, he shook his head and simply asked for the check. When the bill was paid, he put his napkin down, leaned across the table, and looked directly into Mackenzie's eyes.

"My dear, it's time to fish or cut bait. Question time is over. You need to place a phone call to your friend, and then make a decision. If you accept me, then you must give yourself over to me completely. If you feel you cannot surrender control, then it will be good-night. When you are done in the ladies' room, you can cast your vote by getting into my car, which will be waiting for you out front for exactly five minutes. If you are not in my car within five minutes, I am going to assume your answer is no, and go home."

With that, he leaned in and kissed her, full on the lips and tenderly. A warm and inviting kiss, to be sure. He stood up and walked out the door without looking back.

Three and a half minutes later, she was in his car as they pulled out of the parking lot.



The ride to hotel was very short, only a couple of miles, but was silent. When the car pulled into the port-côchere in front of the hotel, he turned off the key and looked at Mackenzie. Her heart gave a big thump, and butterflies were busy learning the tango in the pit of her stomach. The man smiled at her, got out and held the door open for her.

"I've already checked us in, and you won't be needing anything beyond a toothbrush, and there's a brand-new one in the room. We can go straight up."

They walked across the lobby to a bank of elevators at the far end. The doors opened to an empty car and they stepped in. He selected the fourth floor and the doors closed. He turned to her and said,

"Put your hands at your sides and turn around slowly."

She did so.

"You are a beautiful woman."

His hand reached out and slid gently down the side of her face, down her neck, and then gently cupped her breast. He lifted it up, as if checking the weight. He turned his hand over, covering it with his palm, and stepped in close to kiss her. Tender, soft kisses. Mackenzie's heart was pounding now, and she went to put her arms around him for an embrace.




Mackenzie



"You don't touch me. I touch you. Keep your hands at your sides for now, and close your eyes."

She looked at him questioningly, and when there was no response, she closed her eyes. She heard a gentle rustle of fabric, and then felt a blindfold go across her eyes. She felt him move behind her and then felt his hands fasten the blindfold. She felt his hand slide up the back of her neck. He took a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. Hard and firm, but not painful. Surprised, she caught her breath with a hitch and nearly gasped.

"Your hands must stay at your sides until I tell you otherwise." 

Hard tone in his voice, but no anger. Her thoughts were swirling in her head. He was close enough for her to smell him. Crisp and clean, like laundry that had been drying in the sun. He had hardly touched her, and still, she could feel that she was soaking wet between her legs. Her pulse was racing, and the butterflies, having grown tired of the tango, had moved on to Sumo wrestling.

The elevator announced the arrival at their floor with a muted chime and a surge of deceleration that pissed off the butterflies. Mackenzie could hear the doors open. Without taking his hand from her hair, he propelled her into the hallway. Walking to the room, he stopped in front of the door and took her right hand in his.

"You know the name of our hotel. Now, I want you to use your hand and tell me the room number. He guided her hand to the door, placing it on the numbers. It took her a moment to orient her thoughts and coordinate her sensations, but she finally said,

"Four Sixteen?

"Yes."

She heard the sliding hiss of the plastic key card, and heard the metallic click of the lock mechanism. Inside, the room was surprisingly warm. Again, she smelled something like clean linens, fresh from the clothesline. Also, the sharp tang of citrus. Limes? The door closed behind her. He heard him turn the deadbolt and set the upper sliding lock. She felt him press something cool and hard into her hand. Her telephone, she thought.

"Use your memory and your fingers to call your friend to tell her where you are, and let her know that you are OK. For planning purposes, you will be able to go home no later than two o'clock in the morning, as if you were out partying at a nightclub."

As she started feeling the keypad of her phone, she heard him move into the bathroom and shake out some towels.

When she hung up the phone, he took it from her. 

She could feel him move close to her again. She almost gasped again when he felt his hands slide down her legs. She wondered if he could tell how much her body was trembling. He gently removed her shoes. Again, she felt his hands on her legs again, this time sliding all the way up her legs. They brushed very quickly over her mound, circling her waist. He hooked his fingers under the waistband of her panties and slid them down to where she could step out of them. Now, he was standing behind her, once again sliding his hands under the little black dress she was wearing. His motions were in no way hurried. His hands felt sure and confident. As his hands passed her hips, they circled around to the front. She felt his foot between hers, urging her to spread her legs. His hand soon left no doubt in anyone's mind her state of arousal. His hand cupped her pubis and rested there. After a moment, she could feel him begin to squeeze her with his hand. The pressure began to build, nearly buckling Mackenzie's knees. God, his hands were strong! He also began slowly flexing his fingers, creating a rippling sensation she hadn't felt before. Suddenly, and too soon, the pressure was off. His hands came out from under her dress. The citrus/linen smell was replaced by an earthy, musky smell she knew was her own.

"Breathe deep. Smell yourself. Smell your power."

She inhaled deeply, the blindfold enabling her to detect nuances in her own juices she had never noticed before. Now his hands were at the nape of her neck, unfastening her dress. It slid to the floor with a whisper. She really wanted to turn around and pull him into a deep, hungry kiss, but the memory of his hand in her hair kept her urge in check. With a single, deft flick, the clasp on her brassiere was undone. She felt him take it off of her body, and heard it join her dress on the floor.

There was a pause, and then a sensation on her shoulders she couldn't identify right away. It was a lotion of some kind, and it was very warm, almost hot. She had expected him to touch her nipples next. They were erect, and she thought they could really use some attention. Instead, he began massaging her shoulders where her bra had been. Across her back, over her shoulders, and under her breasts, never touching her nipples. While a bit miffed that he wasn't using his lips and tongue to suck the ache out of her nipples, the rubdown was exquisite.

Taking her by the arm, he led her into the bathroom. There were two shocking steps on cold tile, then the warmth of the deep mat. He turned the water on and adjusted the temperature.

"Undress me." He commanded.

She started by unbuckling his belt. Soon, his pants and shirt had joined the heap of clothes by the door. She knelt to pull down his underwear. Once they passed his hips, his cock sprang up, catching her on the cheek. She moved to take it into her mouth, but his hand was back in her hair, pulling her head back. She whimpered, partly from surprise and pain, partly from disappointment.

"Not unless I say so."

He guided her into the shower, careful to support her balance as she stepped over the edge of the tub. The water was nearly too hot to stand, but she adjusted to it after a moment. She felt him begin to wash her body. Long, smooth strokes up and down, breasts to belly to knees; almost like a massage. The soap smelled like lemons, and his hands felt incredibly strong. Part shower, part massage, time seemed to slow down. The hypnotic sound of the water and the heat were forcing her to relax. 

After rinsing off the soap, he turned her around to face the stream of water from the shower head. He took both of her hands and put them on the wall in front of her. She was farther away from the shower head than she realized, and had to lean forward to reach the wall. He lifted one of her legs and placed it on the side of the tub. Now, he washed her back. He had soaped up a washcloth, and the coarseness of the cotton stimulated her skin. Up and down her back, her buttocks, and down her thighs, again to her feet. He rinsed the washcloth and she felt his hands again, in the valley between her cheeks, slick and soapy, his hands caressed her. She felt the heat rising in her body again. She yearned to have him inside of her right then. She felt his hand on her anus, and a finger was making tiny massaging circles. He slipped a finger inside of her and started making a slow fucking motion with his finger. The sensation was incredible. It felt like there was a direct three-way connection between her ass, belly and adrenal gland. A moan escaped her mouth. His finger retreated, and she felt the pang of disappointment again. God that felt good! More!

"Now, I'm going to wash your hair."

She heard him squeeze shampoo into her hand, and smelled coconuts. He stepped behind her, and instead of feeling his hands washing her hair, she felt the head of his cock teasing at the entrance of her pussy!. He entered her, and began thrusting with excruciatingly slow strokes. His cock felt hard inside of her, with that curious combination of hard and soft that she loved so much about a man's cock. She wanted so badly to speed up and take herself over the top, but he wouldn't let her. Instead, without missing a beat, he started washing her hair. She couldn't believe the sensations she was feeling. Strong, sure hands gently washing her hair, and a hard cock thrusting in and out of her. She lost herself in the sensation, feeling the slow buildup. She ached to speed up, as close as she was to orgasm. He could feel her body begin to tighten and stopped thrusting. He was buried deep inside of her and she wanted to rock her hips, scream, anything to tear the explosion out of herself, but he held her firmly, and wouldn't let her move. Gradually, he withdrew, his penis leaving an ache she wanted so badly to fulfill. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, and she was shaking. He finished washing her hair, and then rinsed it.

Again, he turned her around. Her chest was heaving, with a bright red blush above her breasts. Her nipples were fully erect and swollen. He took one into his mouth, biting and sucking at the same time. It was like plucking a guitar string that stretched from her nipple to her loins. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Her orgasm crested, and then crested again when he switched to the other nipple. 

He gave her a moment to relax under the pressure of the water. Gradually, the shaking stopped and her breathing returned to normal. The combined hypnosis of the water and heat brought her back from the edge. Again, he took one of her legs and rested it on the edge of the tub. She felt his hand on her mound, and with it, a strange cool sensation. He started making slow, deliberate circles with his hand, and stopped. The feeling of his hand was replaced by a small, rasping tug. He was shaving her! The cool sensation must have been shaving cream, she decided. He worked slowly, and very gently. Periodically, he would pull one of the lips of her labia to one side or the other. Never hurried, never rushing. Soon enough, the shaving stopped. The feel of the razor was replaced by what she knew immediately was his mouth. He teased her expertly, flicking his tongue one moment, then sliding it up and down her clit with enormous pressure. She could feel the buildup again, as her respiration and pulse increased. When he sensed her starting to wind up, he stopped. This time putting her leg down.

"Wash me."

"I can't see."

"Learn."

Mackenzie awkwardly fumbled around him, feeling for the soap and feeling frustrated with a tremendous urge to impale herself on him again and again. Finding the soap, she started washing his body. Strong muscles moved under his skin as her hands explored what she could not see. He had hair on his chest, but none on his back, and none on his ass. His ass was big, but firm, and his legs felt like tree trunks, strong and powerful. Tentatively, she reached around the front of him; she wanted to feel his cock. When she grasped it, it was as hard as any she'd felt.

"Clean, don't play."

Embarrassed, she carefully soaped his cock, and gently cleaned his balls. She was surprised that he kept himself trimmed closely. She slid her hand further back, between his ass cheeks, wondering if she should return the surprise. It was almost as if he could read her thoughts.

"Don't. It's not my turn."

Disappointed, she finished soaping him, and started fumbling around for the shampoo to wash his hair. When she turned back to him, he was on his knees, his face even with her breasts. As she washed his hair, he began playing with her nipples, alternately biting, flicking, and pinching them. It was all she could do to finish his hair. Her knees threatened to fail her again, and the damn butterflies were awake and doing calisthenics. Finally, she finished, and he stood up and turned the water off.

He dried her off with a soft, warm towel, and helped her into a terrycloth robe. He guided her into a chair.

"Here's a hair dryer and a brush. Dry your hair and brush your teeth. Your toothbrush and toothpaste are to the right of the sink."

He heard the water run and the sound of him vigorously brushing his teeth as she started the dryer. Alone with her thoughts, she spent the time wondering what was next.



"Come here."

Mackenzie put her toothbrush down and let him lead her into the bedroom. He took off her robe, and sat her down in a chair. It was smallish and straight-backed, but had a surprisingly comfortable cushion.

"Put your hands in your lap."

She heard the sounds of a suitcase being opened and rummaged through. She heard a number of sounds she couldn't identify. She heard the rasp of what she though was a lighter, and the citrus/linen smell got stronger. After a moment, she heard his voice close by.

"Put your foot out."

She did, and felt him wrap something around her ankle. He set her foot down and did the same to the other. He spread her ankles apart, and fiddled with whatever he had done. She felt him wrap something around each of her knees, and then found her knees spreading apart. He must have tied them, somehow. She was getting excited again, and a little nervous. Next, he tied one of her hands to the strap on her knee. Stepping behind her, he finished by putting a strap just under her breasts, forcing her to the back of the chair. She was totally immobile now, and naked. Nervousness was winning over excitement, but it was a close race. Suddenly, he took off her blindfold. She expected the room light to dazzle her, but the only light came from some candles on the dresser. He was wearing a bathrobe. The clock by the bed announced that it was only nine thirty. He took a matching chair and sat down in it directly in front of her.

"Do you feel any acute discomfort or numbness? A simple nod of your head will do."

Mackenzie shook her no. Although the straps were tight and restrictive, they weren't so tight that they would affect her circulation. He's done this before, she thought to herself.

"The reason your blindfold is off is because I want you to be able to see yourself, and I want you to be able to look at me."

He stood up and walked behind her. When he came back into view, he had a full-length freestanding dressing mirror that he placed directly in front of her.

Her face flushed with embarrassment. She didn't want this! For the last few years, she had been gradually avoiding looking at herself in the mirror. Two children and years of complacency had started taking a toll on her body.

"I know you are embarrassed about your body, but it's time to get over that. I want you to see how beautiful you are when you come." Now, take your free hand, and start playing with yourself."

Mortified, she tried, but her fingers felt like wood. She wanted to cry.

"Go slowly. Start by lightly pinching your nipple. You have amazingly beautiful, sensitive breasts. Feel them. Feel the connection to your loins. Feel how they respond to your touch. Look at them in the mirror. See how they're paying attention?" 

He gave her a reassuring smile. They did feel pretty good. Soon, he was standing behind her, rubbing her shoulders and encouraging her. He kept her attention focused on the image in the mirror. Physiology, pressure, friction, and tempo took over. Her face flushed. She soon stopped caring that she was watching herself masturbate. Her hand was between her legs now, tracing, touching, circling. He stopped her. She shot a look of pure daggers at him, craving the release that was approaching so quickly.

"Haste makes waste, sweetheart."

He moved out of her sight again, rummaging around behind the mirror. He reemerged with a pair of nipple clamps connected by a fine silver chain. He placed a clamp on each nipple, and then gently draped the chain over her lower lip. She understood. If she wanted to play with her nipples, she would have to figure out how to pull the chain with her mouth. He took her free hand off of her thigh and placed it back on her crotch.

With the added stimulation of the nipple clamps, it wasn't long before she was riding high on another wave of pleasure, sweat glistening on her skin, her face and chest flushed, her pulse racing. She was afraid he would stop her again, but he didn't. She came all over her hand, shaking, moaning, and gasping as the waves of sensation collapsed in on themselves, slowly subsiding until she was riding comfortably on a plateau of delicious sensation. He stepped up and kissed her, allowing her to return his kiss. When he broke the kiss, he nestled her head against her neck. Her breath was humid from exertion.

"Did you enjoy the show?" He asked her.

"Ummm. It was awesome."

He kissed her again and stood up. Putting the blindfold back on, he untied her from the chair and laid her on the bed. Apparently, the sheets were made of something like Velcro, because whenever one of the ankle or wrist bracelets touched it, it stuck fast. He arranged her spread-eagle on the bed, with her knees bent and her feet wide apart. She was immobilized again.

"You are going to experience a series of sensations, each one building on the last. If at any time, any of these sensations becomes too much, say 'uncle'. Say it so I know you understand.

"Uncle."

First was his finger. Tracing lazy circles over her body, it was the perfect tonic to the intense orgasm she'd just experienced. Next was his hand. Massaging some times, just touching others. Circling, pressing, pinching, squeezing, pulling. Slowly bringing her body back to awareness, back to the wanting. Suddenly, there was a new feeling. Small, sharp and intense. It didn't tickle, and it didn't quite hurt. He was rolling something over her body. She could feel her skin react to it as it passed over. When he rolled it over her nipples, the intensity was too much, and she cried out in pleasure. He moved on the bed, and the sharp sensation was mixed with the deeper feeling of his mouth on her pussy again. Just for a moment though, as he soon put the wheel aside. He was taking his time now, not letting her build her orgasm to the point where stopping would cause her frustration. He paused again, and she felt something touching her anus. The touching became a pushing, and she felt something hard slip into her ass. It was warm and hard, but it wasn't him. It didn't go in very far, but it was thick, making her ass stretch to accept it. There was that connection again! The deep throbbing between her ass, her belly, and her brain. She felt his mouth on her pussy again, but this time he was rhythmically tapping the thing in her ass in time with the tempo of his tongue on her clit. There was no going slow for her anymore. Rolling her head from side to side and moaning now, with the intensity of the feelings in the middle of her body, she knew she was close. Still, she had already come twice tonight, and her third orgasm took far longer to get to. He kept up the intensity, alternately tapping and pulling on her ass. Licking and sucking her clit. Pinching and twisting her nipples. Her orgasm built and built over a period of the most intense five minutes she had ever experienced in her life. The muscles under her breasts were flattened and contracting. Her stomach was doing flip-flops, and her legs were shaking uncontrollably. She was moaning a deep, guttural moan, an animal sound that she had no control over at all. Finally, after five long minutes, she teetered over the edge into the abyss. Nearly senseless, her body spasmed and shook. Muscles contorted and flexed. Her fingernails had dug furrows into her own thighs as she struggled to grip something.

Gradually, she started coming back to earth. He removed the phallus from her ass. When it came out, it gave a wet pop and she moaned. Gently, he undid all of her restraints and took off her blindfold. He brought her a cool drink of water and held her head while she drank. He crawled into bed with her, naked, and they held each other until she was well and truly finished. He stroked her hair and kissed her gently. Eventually, her breathing returned to normal, and her pulse was a soft, steady throb at the base of her neck. She was utterly spent. He spoke to her, softly.

"When you're ready, we can talk for a while. We have some time before the carriage turns back into a pumpkin."

"I can't think of a single thing I'd want to say right now, except to ask when we can do this again."




Mackenzie



"Probably not again for a few weeks."

"Why so long?"

"Why get jaded on a good thing?"

"True."

A comfortable silence passed, skin on skin, limbs intertwined, the spill of hair against a white sheet in the candlelight. She slept for a little while, waking to a kiss on her cheek.

"Pumpkin time."

"Mmmph. So soon?" Her voice was husky from exertion and sleep.

"'Fraid so." He said.

"Not just yet. I want to say thank you."

She turned and straddled him, kissing him on the lips. She moved down, kissing his face, chest, nipples and stomach. She took his cock in her hand and kissed it. As he quickly hardened, she took him in her mouth, silently stroking him up and down. She gently cupped his balls as she kissed and sucked his cock. In a few minutes, she could feel them start to tighten, and she knew he was close to his own orgasm. She wet her finger, and as he was passing the point of no return, she slid her finger into his anus. It tipped him over the edge of orgasm, and he shot a hot jet of semen, another, and another. She stayed with him for a moment while his orgasm subsided, and then went to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth to clean him with. She curled up with him again, and he kissed her. He said,

"Thank you. You didn't need to do that. This was about you."

"I know. I really wanted to, though. Funny thing is, is I haven't wanted to do that for a long time. You helped me find joy in it again."

They got out of bed and took quick showers again. They dressed silently and left the room. He drove her back to the restaurant and stopped by her car. He walked her to her car, and they kissed a final time. When she got in to leave, she saw a tear run down his cheek.





Mackenzie Pleasured by Aliens



If you knew me back in high school, then you would know that I am not the crazy type. I never seen or heard things that were not there. Indeed, I am about the non-craziest person you might know but the event I had experienced on that fateful night was certainly real. I know that you might not believe me but I know what I saw and I cannot forget the things that were done to me. My friends knew me as Mackenzie and I was a twenty year old college student with a down to earth kind of mind. Most people described me as attractive. I was tall, standing at a height just of short of six foot. This gave me longer legs which also complimented my body well. I also had a nicely tanned body that was trimmed down enough to allow me to fit into tight fitting clothing. Let us get back to the story at hand because that is the reason for why you are here right?

Well, I was never one to believe in extraterrestrial life forms. I had a hard time believing that there were other planets out there which could support life. Sure, I heard all the UFO stories about alien abductions but that didn't that I believed that these stories were genuine. That is until now. That is until it happened to me. Isn't it quite funny how one person can be oblivious to something but become a firm believer in something due to having experienced it? I know that you have heard all the stories yourself and you might not believe these are true either. Well, let me tell you about what happened to me. Then maybe you will believe.

I awoke to find the room bathed in a light that shouldn't be there. I lived in the country and in a place without streetlights. The clock on my bedside table read 3:23 AM. That meant for certain that the light was not from the sunlight and we didn't have any lights set up outside in my yard. I also knew that this light was too bright to be the moon. I laid there for a moment and just stared at the bright light coming through my window. It appeared to be moving but was bigger than a flashlight. I decided to get out of bed and check it out. I was wearing nothing more than a pair of white boy shorts and a pink T-Shirt which fit against my "c" cup sized breasts very tightly.

I moved cautiously for fear of the unknown. I made it to the window and froze. There outside my house in the pasture was a flying object. It was hovering a few feet off the ground. It wasn't a plane and neither was it a helicopter. The craft was spinning counter clockwise and glowed like a bright orb. I gasped when I spotted something moving beside the craft. They were tall and lanky creatures but it was too dark to make out anything else about them. They walking back and forth and steadily getting closer to the house. It occurred to me that they had to be aliens because no human could take on the form that they had; perhaps you might believe that I would have been scared of them. Yet, I was not. I actually was intrigued by them and was often interested in TV news reports about flying saucers and other strange occurrences.

I screamed and fell over onto my backside as another of the figures stepped right in front of the window. I backed up away from the window as it was now staring in at me and I knew one thing. I didn't like the way that thing was looking at me. I was just getting to my feet when suddenly my bedroom wasn't empty anymore. There stood three of the tall figures from outside staring at me. I backed up right into the fourth one which was standing behind me. I think I had stepped on it's feet and spun around as another screamed ripped through my lungs. I realized that I was now scared of them. I guess I had every right to be. Where had they come from? How had they gotten into my room so fast? What the hell were these things? I knew that I had my suspicions but didn't have a solid answer to my question. I screamed once more after one of the figures behind me touched my long, straight black hair. This made me spin around a second time and come face to face with the three creatures behind me. Then I felt another touch on my neck from behind before it grapped both of my wrists. I felt a strange sensation flood my body and I became like jelly. I didn't have time to react. I blacked out just as I was being taken through the window and realized that they now had total control over me. Was this really happening? Was I actually being abducted by aliens? I wasn't very sure but I knew that this was all too real for me to be dreaming it. I merely shivered at the thought of what they were about to do to me and then I lost consciousness.

I awoke a short time later and was lying on a table but it wasn't made of any material I knew. I knew it wasn't stone, metal or wood. The surface of the table was warm to the touch and was vibrating into my body to the point that it was very relaxing. I also wasn't bound to the table but I couldn't move either. I merely was able to stare at the ceiling above me. The roof was circular but not smooth. It was hard to explain but was bubbly and I could only describe it as looking like popcorn. The room was freezing and made me shiver and I was a little glad for the warm table underneath me. I could feel goose bumps all over my skin as I shivered from the cool air. I could also hear a humming noise which started faint but grew louder before it trailed off again. Shadows washed over me and I was no longer alone. The four figures I had seen earlier in my room and outside my house were now standing on either side of the table.

The first instinctive reaction to a situation like this would be to panic; however, I did not do that. It wasn't because I didn't want to but because of what one of the things did next. It reached out and lightly hovered it's fingers over my forehead. I instantly felt further relaxed and unafraid. My mind was at ease. It was strange but I suddenly felt happy or like this was suppose to happen to me. I watched as the thing moved it's fingers downward. I became aware of a sensation that was both odd and unexplainable by my normal human knowledge. My body came alive and I felt heat washing over my body as it's hand move down. It started on the surface of my clothing and skin before it began to seep deeper into me. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was becoming aroused by the feeling inside my body caused by this thing and the table below me which had also began to vibrate more. The warmth over and inside my body was growing in power. The thing's hand was now over my stomach but it wasn't stopping there. I was now biting my lip and shaking my head. I didn't know if I wanted this and continued to shiver in the soft cool breeze that kept blowing on me from somewhere above. This had caused my nipples to harden because of it; perhaps it might have also been because of how horny these things were now making me. I wasn't wearing a bra and so my erected nipples were poking up against my pink shirt. I gasped when the creature reached down and started playing with my breasts. It rubbed it's long fingers in circular motion around my nipples which caused me to bite my lip and grow wetter. I could still feel that warm sensation radiating off it's fingers and coursing through my body.

My breath soon quickened and I was moaning softly by the time the creature moved its hand down and was just mere inches above my white cotton boy shorts. The warmth invaded me more and I felt it penetrate and the force of it ride up into me . My moans quicken and became louder at this. The thing with it's hand over me it stay there for more than a minute. The four creatures all watched every expression that I was making as the warmth continued to invade my body. I was on fire now and felt like I was sitting on a tropical island bathing in the intense rays of the sun. The thing finally removed it's hand and I was able to relax and let my panting subside. I didn't have much time to rest because the four alien creatures returned to me and they all laid their hands on me. I felt that same sensation again but it was four times greater now. I began to moan and squirm under their touches but gasped when their hands moved down in between my legs. Two of them rubbed me along the thighs and over the front of my boy shorts.

"Oh god, it feels so good." I was murmuring to myself as I became wetter. The creature which had been touching me from before had managed to find it's way into the thin cotton boy shorts. His hand slid inside and right up against my pussy. I nearly screamed as shockwaves of pleasure shot right up into my body. The thing then grew claws as sharp as a knife and began to cut off my boy shorts. One of the other creatures did the same with my shirt until I was completely naked and shivering. I began to whimper under the touch of these creature's hands and claws sweeping over my body.

"Oh my god...." Was all that I could manage to blurt out during all of this. The warmth, their hands and the vibrating table below me was driving me crazy. The creature that had started to touching episode with me had now moved it's hand down to my knee. I gathered that this creature must have been the leader because it was leading their little experiment on me. My moans started to increase again as the creature's hand moved up my legs and over my inner thighs. It then stopped right on top of my tight, wet hole. I gasped and quivered at it's touch as it began to rub on me a little. I bucked my hips and arched my back to meet it's touch. The thing then inserted it's long finger into me and I screamed out in pleasure. My breath began to quicken again and my pussy tightened around the creature's fingers as it started to thrust them back and forth inside of me. The gasps, moans and screams that I was emitting at it's touch soon must have caused it to catch on cause it started to fuck me harder with it's fingers.

It wasn't long before I started to cum. I decided finish with one but had multiple bursts. The creature's ability to manipulate my body only caused me to have even more climaxes. I was soon exhausted and spent. I tried to focus on what they were doing now but soon drifted into an unconscious state. Some time later I awoke a second time and they were gone. I was also back in my room but was completely naked as I laid on my bed. That is how I knew that this had not been just a dream. It was just turning day light outside and so I got up to take a shower and tried hard to shake the thoughts which continued to plague my mind. Thoughts of pleasure and lusts and what these htings had did to me. I knew that I couldn't tell anyone because they would never believe me. I sighed and turned off the water and got dressed. I went on to work and went on about my day as if nothing had ever happened.



Mackenzie's Bed



Cary turned the page of his geology book. He had been up for hours studying for the midterm. His eyes could hardly stay open. He was ready to shut the book and go to sleep when he heard a soft tap on his door. He listened for it again, thinking it was just his imagination.

He'd been up too long. He closed the book. It was after two in the morning.

Then he heard the soft tap again. His bedroom door opened. Mackenzie's angelic face, framed by her long, straight blonde hair, peeked in.

"Cary? Are you awake?" she said in her soft, girlish voice.

"Yeah, I'm up," he said, and set the book aside.

Immediately, he remembered how he had taken her virginity the other day in the front seat of his car and he began to get aroused, despite the regret he felt for what he'd done to her. Even so, she had taken to it so readily, so willingly, as if it was what she had wanted.

She came into his room. She was wearing and oversized t-shirt that came down to her hips, just showing the bottom of her white cotton panties.

"Can't you sleep?" he said.

She shook her head sleepily and sat on the edge of his bed. Cary looked down at her bare legs and felt a twinge as he remembered how good it had felt to be between them. She had been so tight, tighter than any girl he'd known. That thought made his penis grow hard and he squeezed his legs together to hide it.

"I bled yesterday," she said.

She lifted the bottom of the oversized shirt and looked down at her panties.

"Did it hurt?"

She shook her head. "I didn't bleed today."

"That means you're a woman now, not just a girl."

He gazed over her young body. She was still skinny and bony, but he knew she would fill out nicely. Her breasts were just hand sized bumps under the shirt, and her nipples were hard points that stuck out. Her waist had begun to curve inward and her hips were beginning to show the gentle flare to her long legs. He stared at the mound between her legs. He remembered the forbidden pleasures he had experienced there and licked his lips.

He couldn't believe he had his eighteen year old cousin sitting on his bed showing him her panties. He looked at her face. She had those full, pouty lips. He couldn't believe he'd had those lips around his cock. There were so many sexy girls in this town and he'd fantasized about having sex with many of them. Doing it with Mackenzie had been better than a dream come true.

He always had a hard time with his girlfriend. She hated to even jerk him off. He'd cum on her face before, but she hated that even more. Mackenzie, though wanted him to do it to her, like she'd been waiting all her life for it. She'd even asked him to let her suck him. Then she had swallowed his cum. No girl ever did that before.

"I'm a woman now?" she said.

Cary nodded. She looked thoughtful. Was she going to fall asleep?

"Cary?" she said. "I want some more practice."

Cary's eyebrows went up in surprise. He couldn't believe he'd heard her right.

"More practice?" he asked.

Mackenzie nodded. Her hand touched his thigh and moved up toward his groin.

"I want to practice on you."

Cary's head reeled. This was too good to be true. He took the blanket off and pushed his shorts down. His long, erect penis jumped out at her. She put her small hand around it, bent over and kissed the head. Her lips smacked. She stuck her tongue out and licked it and Cary sighed. She licked it again, then he could feel her breath on the areas she'd made wet.

She learned so fast. There was no hesitation. She wanted to lick his cock, so she was doing it.

Mackenzie closed her small mouth over the fat head of his cock and moved her head up and down. Her soft lips were wet around the shaft and he could feel her tongue sliding under the head. He lay his head back against the wall, groaning.

"When I get bigger I can suck more of it," Mackenzie sighed breathlessly. She looked up at his eyes and licked the saliva from her lips. "Will you let me suck it when I get bigger?"

"Yes," Cary choked.

Mackenzie smiled. "Good," she said, and put the head back in her mouth.

Cary closed his eyes. Mackenzie was only eighteen, he had to remind himself. This was only, what, the third time she's done this? And yet she gave head better than any girl he knew, and that included Sandi. If she was that good now, how good would she be in a year, or two years? He had to make sure he had a chance to find out.

Mackenzie stopped sucking. He opened his eyes. She was looking at him, panting with her mouth open.

"What's wrong?" he said.

"I don't know. I feel so funny."

Mackenzie's voice was just a whisper. Cary sat up, suddenly alarmed.

"Funny how? Like you feel sick?"

Mackenzie shook her head. She sat up with her legs folded under her.

"It's so wet down there." She put her hand down the front of her panties. "Why is it so wet?"

Cary opened his mouth to speak and his throat tightened as the words came out.

"To make it easier for my penis to go in," he said.

Just the thought of sliding his penis into her tight, wet pussy made his heart pound in his chest. He desperately wanted to feel it again. He was afraid of saying the wrong thing in case she got scared and ran away and he would lose his chance to have sex with her again.

Mackenzie smiled at him. She seemed delirious, like she was high on a drug. Her fingers moved in her panties. Her other hand closed around his penis.

"I liked it when you did that," she said in her soft, breathy voice. "I wanna do it again."

"Come on up here. Lay next to me," Cary said, holding out his arms.

She crawled up and lay on her back beside him. He put his arm around her shoulder and she rested her head in the crook of his arm. He reached down between her legs and put his hand in her panties. She spread her legs automatically, gasping when his fingers touched her pussy.

Her juices soaked through her panties. He pushed his middle finger gently inside her. Mackenzie moaned. Her clitoris was a tiny, hard bump under his finger. He rubbed it rapidly.

Mackenzie gasped. She grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and pulled. Her legs squeezed together on his hand, but he kept rubbing. She whimpered and looked up at his eyes. Her whole body trembled. Her hips thrust up and down off the bed as fast as his hand moved.

Then Mackenzie buried her face in his muscular shoulder and screamed. Cary was startled. He hoped no one heard that. His shoulder muffled most of it. He'd hate to wake his parents. He could just imagine them walking in and catching them in bed like this. They'd go crazy.

Mackenzie was panting and moaning into his shirt, moving her pelvis slowly. When she raised her head, his shirt was wet with her saliva.

She looked up at him with her mouth open, breathing hard, her eyes half open sensually, and her blonde bangs, stringy with her sweat, hanging over her eyes. She let her legs fall apart again.

Cary took his hand from her panties. His fingers were covered with her juices. He was surprised someone so young could get so wet. He stuck a finger in his mouth and licked her juices off. She tasted good, too.

Mackenzie watched him, licking her lips. Cary held his fingers in front of her mouth and she licked them. Her expression changed, like she was trying to decide if she liked the taste. She licked her lips.

"Is that how I taste?" she asked. Cary nodded. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah."

Mackenzie nodded, as if she had made up her mind.

"Then I like it, too."

She tilted her head up and kissed him. Cary moaned. He liked the feel of her tongue in his mouth and her small, young body pressed against his.

She kicked her leg over his body and moved on top of him, straddling his body with her long, coltish legs. With her mouth clamped onto his, she raised her ass in the air, reached down between her legs, and grabbed his cock. She angled the head up toward her cunt. How the hell did she learn that on her own?

He watched her face. She had to raise her ass way in the air to get the head of his cock lined up. He could feel her rubbing it along her slit, trying to find the opening. When she found it and the head pushed her lips apart, she gasped with her mouth open. Her body trembled and she stared down into his eyes.

This was only the second time she'd done this, he reminded himself. She was a small girl. No matter how wet she was, she was still going to be very tight. He had to feel for her. She was going to feel a lot of pain.

She started to lower herself on him. He held her by her slender waist to take her weight. He could read the pain on her face. He would have stopped if she wanted, but he wanted to jam her down on his cock. He didn't want to be mean to her, and he didn't want her to stop, so he let her take it slow.

Mackenzie gritted her teeth and winced, but she pushed herself down on his cock. He admired her determination. She must have wanted it inside her just as badly as him. He could feel himself sliding into her an inch at a time. It would have been so easy to squeeze her narrow hips and shove her down on him, but he restrained himself, despite the anticipation that was killing him. He wanted the chance to fuck her again and if he hurt her that would never happen. It was worth it to him to have some patience now and suffer a little for what he might gain in the future.

Mackenzie whimpered and stopped.

"It hurts," she said.

She had about half his cock inside her. Cary stroked the side of her face.

"You can stop if you want."

She shook her head. "I don't wanna stop."

A tear came from the corner of her eye. He wiped it away. She tilted her head down and kissed him tenderly, her lips smacking softly on his. Cary moved his hands down to her ass and pressed her down, gently but firmly. He didn't want to hurt her, but he felt she needed a little help to do it all the way.

"Ow ... ow ... oh, God," she cried.

His cock pushed insistently all the way up inside her. She was just as deliciously warm and wet as he remembered. And she was so tight it was hard to push it in. Then he let her rest, to get used to the pain of being stretched open. She had her back arched with her head raised and her eyes closed. She panted in shallow, rapid breaths.

"It's in," Cary whispered, brushing the hair from her face.

Mackenzie opened her eyes and looked down at him. She smiled. It seemed like a painful smile.

"I'm making love," she whispered. "Just like a real woman."

Cary started moving his hips up and down, slowly and carefully. Mackenzie was slow to respond. He was sure the head of his cock was deep inside her, pushing at the end of her womb, and that must have caused some pain as well.

When she started to respond, she rocked her hips with his. Her head was up and her eyes were closed. She had her lower lip between her teeth. From her throat came soft, regular moans.

Cary had his hands on her ass, pulling her down when he pushed up. His finger was near her asshole. He touched it lightly and she smiled. He would love to put his penis there one day. He had heard from a couple of guys at school how amazing it was to fuck a girl there. They said a girl's pussy was never as tight as her asshole, and the girl really got off on it, too, if you could talk her into it. Mackenzie was so willing to try sex, Cary was sure she would let him try it.

"Oh Cary ... oh Cary," she moaned.

Could he make her cum again? He had no doubts about himself. His orgasm was already very close. He was going to cum inside her and there was no way he was going to stop.

They were fucking harder. Mackenzie moaned louder. Cary didn't care if she woke everyone in the house. He felt his orgasm build and build, then it exploded inside her.

"Oh yeah," he groaned.

Mackenzie's eyes came open and she gasped. Her ass continued to move in his hands and his cock throbbed, pumping seed into her.

"Oh, Cary," she sighed, and lowered her head to kiss him.

She was the most wonderful fuck he ever had. She laid her head against his shoulder and he stroked her hair while his penis continued to spasm and squirt the last few drops of cum into her pussy.

"Mackenzie?" Cary whispered.

She didn't move.

"Mackenzie?" he said again.

He could feel her breathing on his shoulder. She was asleep, he realized with surprise. She amazed him again. With his erect penis still lodged inside her hole, she cuddled up to him and went to sleep. Shaking his head in disbelief, he stroked her hair until he fell asleep, too.

* * * *

A steady, gentle movement dragged him from his sleep. He noticed first that he had an unusual weight on top of him. Then he noticed he had a monstrous hard on. As he peeled his eyes open, he remembered the weight was Mackenzie's small figure. The movement was her ass, going slowly up and down. His hard penis was still inside her.

"Mackenzie? Are you awake?" he whispered.

"Yes."

She must have moved sometime when she was sleeping. She probably felt his penis inside her and it woke her up. Then she got turned on and her ass started humping.

She kissed the side of his neck. He sucked in a deep breath. He was turned on, too. He put his hands on her waist and thrust his hips up.

"Do it harder," Mackenzie moaned softly in his ear. Cary jammed his cock into her and she whimpered. "It feels so good," she breathed.

He detected a sob in her voice. Did she like it rough? Was she one of those girls who liked to feel pain when she fucked? That was perfect for him. Most girls he fucked wanted him to be gentle and careful. He'd been looking for a girl who wanted it hard.

Feeling encouraged, he rolled over on top of Mackenzie. She cried out in surprise, staring up at him with her mouth open and her eyes wide. He hovered over her, holding himself up with his arms on either side of her. Her legs were forced wide around his body.

"This is gonna feel even better," he growled, and the ferocity in his own voice surprised him.

He pulled his hips back, withdrawing most of his penis from her cunt. He looked down. The delicate, pink lips of her pussy were spread wide, encircling his shaft. It looked grotesquely huge going into her small body.

Mackenzie stared at him expectantly. He slammed his cock back into her. She moaned out loud. He pulled his hips back and did it again. Her back arched off the bed with her deep moan. Her hands squeezed his forearms and her legs wrapped tightly around his hips. He was sure someone heard her moan that time. It was loud enough to wake the neighbors. If his parents were going to walk in on them it was going to happen soon. He wanted to cum inside her one more time before that.

"Did you like that?" he asked.

Mackenzie nodded. Her expression was a mixture of fear and excitement. She was so beautiful it took his breath away.

"Then hold on, 'cause I'm gonna fuck you hard."

Cary lifted his weight and dropped himself on her, pounding his cock into her cunt hard and fast. The bed rocked with the force of his motion. His hard, muscular belly slapped on her flat belly. Mackenzie clung to him, moaning noisily.

"Oh Cary ... oh Cary ... oh ... oh," she cried.

Her voice faded. Then she was thrashing beneath him. He had her pinned down, with his thick cock sliding in and out of her pussy. Her fingernails dug into his arms. She panted for breath. He was pleased with himself. He'd made her cum. Then he was shooting his load into her.

"Oh God," he groaned.

His cum poured from his cock like he'd opened up a hose. It overflowed her tight hole and leaked out around his shaft, dripping down over his balls and down into the crack of Mackenzie's ass. He surprised himself with how much came out. He'd fucked girls more than once a night many times before, but he'd never cum so hard, even after the first time.

"What happened?" Mackenzie panted.

"I made you cum."

"Come? Just like before?"she said.

Her brow was creased in confusion. Cary lay on top of her.

"That's what it's called when that happens. When I fuck you I make you cum. You made me cum."

"I made you come," she repeated and giggled. "I like it when you come. I like how it feels, all slippery and warm."

Cary kissed her neck. "Do you like it in your mouth?"

Mackenzie giggled again. "Yeah. It tastes funny."

Cary smiled. "Maybe I'll let you taste it again."

He lay his head beside hers, kissing her shoulder. Mackenzie had her arms around him, her fingers in his hair, and her legs stroked his legs. Strangely, he felt terrifically satisfied, and closed his eyes.

* * * *

The sound of a door closing woke Cary up. He recognized the sound. It was his father going into the bathroom to take a shower. Cary stirred and smacked his lips. The inside of his mouth was dry. It took him a moment to realize he was laying on top of someone. He pushed himself up. It was Mackenzie. She was asleep. With her eyes closed, her lips parted slightly and her golden hair spilling over his pillow, she looked like an angel.

He realized his penis was still inside her. He had stayed mostly erect the whole night. She was no longer moist, but still warm and tight. His cum had dried like a paste on their skin. This was an incredible girl, no ordinary lover. She was a fucking machine, created to pleasure a man. He had not taught her anything, he realized. He only unleashed what she already was, and she would attack the world like a sexual storm.

His penis stiffened and he moved his hips. Mackenzie stirred. Her eyes opened. She looked up at him and smiled, then appeared to realize he had his erection inside her and moved her ass slightly.

"What time is it?" she said, rubbing her eyes.

"It's morning."

Suddenly, she looked horrified.

"Oh my God. Let me up," she said, pushing on his chest with both hands.

Cary was confused, but rolled off her reluctantly. His penis slid from her hole. Mackenzie groaned, grabbed her shirt and underwear, and went to the door.

"You Mom's supposed to get me up soon," she said, looking back at him with her hand on the knob.

Her eyes looked at his penis. She came back, bent over to kiss the tip of it, then kissed Cary on the lips. She giggled and bounded back to the door. In a second, she was gone, and the whole night was like a dream in his memory, except for the faint sensation of her kiss on his penis and his lips. How much longer before he felt those lips again?

After his Dad took a shower, Cary took his shower, got dressed and went down to the kitchen. Mom was making breakfast: eggs, bacon, toast, sausage and pancakes. He was eating and his Mom had gone upstairs when Melanie came down and sat next to him, staring at him with a knowing eye.

"What?" he said with the fork an inch from his mouth.

"What were you doing in your room last night?"

Cary put the fork in his mouth and pretended to be nonchalant.

"What do you mean?" he said as he chewed.

Melanie picked up her fork. She could barely contain her grin.

"I mean, who were you fucking in your room last night?"

She scooped up some scrambled eggs and ate them. Cary froze.

"Mackenzie wasn't in bed all night, and you were fucking some girl. I could hear her. She was noisy."

She waited for him to reply, but he said nothing. She leaned close to him and lowered her voice.

"You were fucking Mackenzie last night, weren't you?"

"No way," Cary said indignantly, and ate his eggs.

Mackenzie came into the kitchen and they looked at her.

"Hi, guys," she said.

She had a huge smile and she practically glowed. Cary was struck again by how angelic she looked, even more so with the fresh, glowing color in her cheeks.

"Hi, Cary," she said, smiling seductively at him.

She grabbed an apple and went back out.

"Now let me get this straight," Melanie began. "You're fucking your cousin, but you're not fucking your own sister. What's wrong with me? I'm the one with the big tits." She grabbed them in both hands and squeezed. "She's got a flat chest. What's she got that I don't have?"




Mackenzie's Bed



Cary was too astounded to speak. He had never even looked at Melanie in a sexual way, much less considered her as a lover. Now he stared at chest, realizing with a sudden shock she had a great body.

Melanie leaned closer and lowered her voice again.

"It's her cunt, right? She's tight, right?"

She pushed her chair back and spread her legs. Cary looked down between them, where she was touching herself.

"You should try mine. I bet I'm as tight as she is."

She stuck her hand up the leg of her shorts and stared at him, her tongue running over her lips.

Cary put the fork in his mouth. His penis was hard in his shorts. Melanie had suddenly become much more to him than just his sister. For the first time he saw her as a horny, sexual girl. She was hot for him and he was hot as hell for her.

He couldn't believe his luck. He'd always had trouble convincing girls to have sex with him, and now he had his sister and his cousin begging him to fuck them. They might have been family and it might have been kind of weird, but he was horny as hell to fuck them as much as they could handle.



Mackinaw Island



Once upon a time, actually it was only this past August the 10th 2013. My girlfriend Mia and myself took a trip to Mackinaw Island for the day. Originally we had wanted to go by ourselves so we could have the whole day alone together but, in order for Mia's parents to agree on it, we dragged my mother along. Now mind you this wasn't so bad because my mom likes to do her own thing. Soon after arriving on the island we parted ways from my mother as she went walking about to a few places she enjoyed. Mia and I took off around the island.

At one point we stopped to follow a stream into the woods to see where it started. Mia is about 5'4"ish. She has thick blond hair that goes down to her upper back. Big bright blue eyes and a wonderful smile. Her boobs are about 34 Cs. They are a good medium size for her petite body. But she has an amazing ass the pops out a little bit and is nice and firm. Both of our bodies are lean and slender due swimming in school on our school teams. I'm about 6'1". I have darkish blonde hair in a curly small fro. I also have bright blue eyes. My body is mostly muscle but isn't bulging. A 7" cock that she loves to feel inside her. Normally a flat slender stomach or 4 pack during swim season. Any who, back in there standing on top of a large log we had our first woods experience. But this is not the story of the night. We continued on afterwards and came to a lookout of a large arch rock and the lake.

The hormones were still flowing through the both of us even at this point over an hour later. I then quietly asked, "Would you like to go off on a trail through the woods for another naughty experience?"

She gave me an innocent look with big eyes and softly said, "Sure, you go and I'll follow babe."

We hopped on our bikes and began down the asphalt bike trail; racing each other over slopes. At the bottom of a big hill we stopped to get off our bikes setting them aside the trail. Looking around for our place of fun, we noticed the hill was wooded and appeared to level off on top so we hiked up to investigate. As we reached the top we found out that it was a walking that I knew wasn't traveled on very often.

"So hun, do you just want to do it here or find somewhere else?" I inquired.

"I don't know, I guess I don't care. Can we walk a little bit that way?" *pointing down the trail to a small dip.* she asked.

We worked are way down the dirt trail between the trees hand in hand. The excitement building in both of our bodies. Once we reached the lowest point we looked both ways and shrugged our shoulders.

"Here look fine?" I excitedly asked. *The suspense building under my pants.*

"Ya sure." She responded quickly.

She turns in front of a tree and unbuttons her shorts, showing the top of the word love from live, love, dream which was written across the back in swirly black letters on her tight pink, black outlined panties. She takes one hand on the back of my neck and one on my cheek, tip toeing up to me to passionately begin kissing my lips. My right hand swiftly slips down her underwear over her firm ass and begins to lift, squeeze and pull up on it. The other goes around her lower back under her shirt, over her bare skin pulling her into me so she feels my already firm penis pressing against her unbuttoned front. But only feeling the bulge; she soon backs out of the heavy kissing to slide her hand into my pants and fill it with my hard cock. I spin her around and begin groping her breast under her shirt from behind and the other hand slithers its way to her lower lips. Spreading them open and entering with two fingers, pushing deeper and pulling up, hitting a sensitive spot causing a gasp from her to be released. I reach around her neck and grab the opposite side pulling her head back and towards me to have a play date with our tongues. Lips locked, tongues sliding back and forth and occasional biting of each other's lips. All the while her hand stroking my hard cock and me pumping my middle finger into her increasingly wet pussy. 

She stops and turns to me, with begging, pleading eyes, "Can we?" She asks as always when she wants to be fucked.

I pull down my pants and boxers and my solid staff bounces out of its former restraints. She bends her head over and takes my dicks head into her lips swirling her tongue over it. Sucking out the pre-cum. She takes a bit more and continues to suck. My cock couldn't get any harder and the hormones were pumping through me. I needed more. I stand her up and turn her around. She knows that it is enough teasing and business is about to start. Pulling down her shorts and then slipping off her panties, both falling to the ground, kicking them away so she can give me better access. She then leans over straight from the waist and places one hand on the ground and the other on a tree for support, her ass towards me. I press my raging boner against her wet lips. And slide my head back and forth opening them up and lubricating my dick. Without hesitation or any warning I lunge it into her forcing my way through her tightness. 

With a yelp she moans, "Oh babyyy."

I begin rocking back and forth coating my cock with her juices allowing me full range of motion. After a few pumps I begin my usual teasing. I toy with her by only fucking with the head and without notice I ram my pelvis into her butt lodging my penis as deep as it will go hitting something inside her that causes a high pitched moan to come out between her clenched teeth.

"OH BABE, oh my god, do it again please," panting heavily. Even though we've only just begun.

I toy with her, "What are you talking about?" I wait a few seconds after and as she begins to speak I shove my rod back deep in her turning her voice to moans instantly.

"Yessss, oh I want more, baby moorre."

Again I use only a third of my dick to go in and out, giving her some pleasure but leaving a void, that horniness where you want it so badly but aren't satisfied.

"Oh? You want more of what?" As soon as I finish my words I hit her hard again. "Is that what you wanted?"

"Yeaaaaaa...yes....yes." As she tries to speak I go from the tip of my head inside her to pushing my body against her ass multiple times. As she squirms around trying to move away from the intense pleasure I grab her by the hips and hold her still. Fucking her at a good pace but not ramming. She begs for more, "harder, do it harder" I lift her up by her hips and pound myself into her at the same time, getting even deeper, while dropping her from her tippy toes back to flat feet all in one motion. "Do it again" I quickly rock into her a couple times and then suddenly lift her and slam my solid cock into her again. I continue to slam into her but start spicing things up. 

We have recently done some experimenting and found we both like a little abuse during sex. Handcuffs being our latest addition. She enjoys being my fuck doll and taking it in any and every way I give it to her. I love being her sex master.

I take both my hands and collect her thick blond hair into one strand. Then pull it to the middle of her back with one hand and force her head to look up. She lets out more moans and tries to come up a bit but I push her body back down while firmly pulling her hair. I use my other hand and rub it over her luscious smooth ass. I squeeze it hard in my hand and pull it in different directions. After a minute or so of this I grab her ass hard one more time and then raise my hand and smack it. Not soft but not too hard. 

"You like that hun? Have you been bad lately?" I coax her.

"Yes, yes I have. *slipping out moans in between words* I want more."

I again take my hand back but this time come down harder, SMACK. The noise was loud and clear. Moans erupt from her mouth. I smack her booty a couple more times and soon red outlines of finger prints begin to appear. I yank her head back forcing her head to come up to me but keep her butt down for me to fuck, her chest arching, her back inwards. We kiss a bit as I grope her and continue pounding my cock into her soaking pussy. I then pull her hair somewhat forcefully directing her head back down into her standing doggie position. I begin to ram her harder filling her up with my pulsing cock. She begs for it harder and harder. I grab her head with a handful of hair and yank her back by it as I charge forward with my pelvis. Bouncing off her firm ass and repeatedly pounding her like fresh meat. With each pound I go from almost completely out to as deep as possible. Sliding inch after inch flying deep into her vagina until my balls slap her ass again.

As the pace picks up I pull her hair harder and thrust deeper. Her moans becoming on the verge of screams. I smack her ass hard getting both cheeks painting them red. The noise of our fuck becomes much more heard as the smashing of our bodies makes a loud slapping noise that only gets louder. I feel her tensing up and her body begins to twitch and she starts rocking her hips. Which throws off my rhythm. I grab around her waist again taking full control and thrusting into her over and over as hard as I can. 

My cock becoming harder and harder as I near my point. I feel my dick stiffen to its max and the cum beginning to flow into it. I ram into her over and over as fast and deep as I can go. I give her the two hardest slams I can and pull out. She lets out a couple screams at the last few thrusts and pants like a dog catching her breath. We play it safe and rarely use condoms so she remains bent over so I can use her back as a table. Putting a hand on her back leaning against it, I stroke out my cum which spurts onto the natural floor of the woods. 

"You good babe," she says as she stands and turns to look at me. "Oh shit!" 

My eyes dart to the left, "Crap!" A man is at the top of the hill walking away from us. And there is no other path between us and him and with our smacking and her screaming there is no way we were not heard. We quickly put clothes on and start walking off. But he is between us and our bikes. So we sneak to the road to try and dodge him but further up it he's there again. Darting back to the path we continue to the bikes. Walking to the top of the hill not paying attention, we whisper about him. I look up and he is right there walking down, I knew by his hat. Apparently having the same thought as us and trying to avoid confrontation. Close up I realize he is an older man late in life. He smiles and says, "hello" as he passes us. We politely reply and a few feet later he speaks again. "You know, that happened to me once!"



Mack's Progress Ch. 01



 I thank my LadyCibelle and Techsan for their patience, proof reading, editing skills and of course encouragement they always give me. I also thank all of my friends, who write to encourage and help me to continue writing and posting these demented ravings of mine. Your emails are always greatly appreciated.

Clarification: Squaddy = generic term for a non-com British soldier; 

*

I hadn't wanted to be there that evening. I really didn't know why I'd thrown in the towel and agreed to come. Especially as it was during the summer season, when the pub was very busy with holidaymakers. But, for whatever reason, I'd agreed to come up to town for this damned wedding. Well, it was Billy's wedding; maybe that's why I'd relented.

Look, I'd better explain. For the last couple of years I'd been ... what'd you call it? Estranged, yeah, that's it! Estranged from my family. Why? Well, because of Lindsey, that's why. Lindsey was the girl that I was going to marry. I'd been crazy about the girl for a good year or so, when it all turned sour on me. But the most important part of it all was that my mum, dad, both my sisters and my brother appeared to be even more infatuated with the girl than I ever was.

From the day they met her, they all thought that Lindsey could do no wrong. Hey, Lindsey and I did have a couple of bust ups in our relationship, but as far as everyone in the family was concerned, they were always my fault and I was pretty well badgered to apologise to her, until one of us eventually did.

Now, although I was pretty well crazy about Lindsey, there had always been a little bone of contention in our relationship that I'd never discussed with anyone, especially my family, and that was sex. Or rather the lack of it! Just after I'd met Lindsey she'd said those words that every red blooded young man dreads to hear. "No Mucky stuff until after we are married. I intend to walk down the aisle a virgin, whether you like it or not."

Now I can't say that I was over-enamoured to hear those words. How the hell are you going to know that you are sexually compatible with someone, if you haven't done at least a little experimentation? But all Lindsey would let me do was suck on and play with her breasts, but that was as far as things ever went.

Well, no, to be fair I did get the occasional hand job when I was a good boy.

Whatever, at the time I was crazy about the woman. So I pushed my better judgement (or maybe it was my hormonal needs) aside and put up with my near celibate existence for a long time. 

Yeah, well, I say near because on the odd occasions when Lindsey and I did break-up for a few days, I normally managed to pull something out of the hat, somewhere. I had to take what I could get though, and watch my back as well. I'm pretty sure that if Lindsey got wind of my dalliances we'd have been finished for good.

But then we came to that fateful weekend. Sea fishing is my one weakness. Well, maybe it isn't the fishing; maybe it's more the messing about in small boats that I really enjoy. But fishing is an excuse to go out in the bloody boats in the first place, isn't it?

That weekend I'd driven down the coast to join a few friends on a weekend's fishing, only to discover that the weather had taken an unexpected nasty turn. An unseasonably strong wind had come up during the evening as we'd travelled down; blowing at least a force nine. On our arrival we'd been informed that there was no chance that we'd get out the following morning.

Most of the guys had shrugged their shoulders and headed for the nearest bar, but not me. If I wasn't going to be fishing or at least messing about in a boat, then I figured I'd return to town and spend my free time as I usually did, with Lindsey.

It must have been about ten when I pulled up outside Lindsey's flat, and I'd been somewhat taken aback that she wasn't at home. No, not so much taken aback, more annoyed; she hadn't told me about any plans she had for going out that evening. More to the point, she'd moaned at me about being alone and bored without me for the whole weekend.

I wandered around her little three-roomed flat, a quite large lounge come dining room with a little kitchenette in one corner. From there you went into the bedroom with its large double bed (not that I'd ever gotten near sharing it with Lindsey yet. When I slept over, as I did sometimes, it was the convertible couch for me in the lounge.) And then into the en suite bath and toilet with its abnormally large shower cubical. 

I do believe that I was looking around the flat for some kind of clue as to where Lindsey might have gone that evening. Strange how we do that kind of thing, isn't it? What could an inanimate flat tell me about what had been going on in Lindsey's mind before she'd left to go out that evening? But surprisingly it did!

I happened to notice one of those pop-out pill packets, lying on the kitchen worktop. You know the kind of thing, a flat plastic packet with little bubbles that the pills sealed in behind foil. I didn't recall seeing them before at Lindsey's flat, but I did remember seeing something very similar before; it rang a bell in the back of my mind somewhere. 

My curiosity piqued; I picked the packet up to make a closer inspection of it, turning it over as I did so. The moment I saw the other side, I remembered where I'd seen a very similar packet before. It had contained my sister's birth control pills. I could remember Julia making a big thing about going on them, two complete months before she and John got married. 

I think the fuss Julia had made over those pills at the time was a vain attempt to convince my parents that she and John hadn't 'been at it like bunny rabbits' for donkey's years. Although I should imagine John was pretty pleased to get away from those bloody condoms that were forever spilling out the glove box of his car.

'Birth control pills', I remember thinking to myself. Then I found myself having one of those infuriating mental discussions with myself. 

'What the hell has Lindsey got need of birth control pills for? Jesus, we never get anywhere near having sex....' 

'Hold on, son, I'll give you that Lindsey and you, never get anywhere near having sex. But that doesn't mean to say that she doesn't have sex with someone else when you're not around, does it?' 

'Let's face it mate; you've rocked a couple of girls' boats for them, when you and Lindsey had had the odd bust up. What's to say Lindsey hasn't got some randy little bugger hidden away somewhere who's giving her a good seeing-to, when you're not around?'

Well, that's the way my mind was working. I argued it, this way and that, for sometime before I decided that I bloody-well better find out what was going on one way or the other that weekend.

But first I had to convince myself that they genuinely were Lindsey's pills. I hunted through the cupboard she kept her medicines in; soon turning up the box the pills had come in. There was one further full packet inside the box that had originally contained three packets. According to the instruction in the box, it had originally contained three months' supply. On the outside of the box was the pharmacy label, which clearly stated that her doctor had prescribed the pills for Lindsey.

I'm not too sure how long I sat on the stool in Lindsey's little kitchen as the thoughts that she had been taking the piss out of me for the last twelve months or so, raced around in my mind. 

"No, Mack! We mustn't, Mack; I want to wear white at my wedding with a clean conscience!" Or when she got stroppy. "Mack, if you can't keep your hands under control, we'll have to break off our relationship right this minute!" 

Yeah and for at least the last couple of months she's been... no, on the shelf in that cupboard was a second instruction sheet. 'Damn, that's another three months that I can prove she's been taking the piss out of me,' I thought. 

Extremely angry, I think I managed to leave the flat as I had found it. I moved my car out of the block's parking bays and hid it down the street a ways, from where I could watch the car park. Then I sat back and waited for Lindsey to show. After two hours I wished I'd thought to get something to eat and drink, but it was too late to do anything about it then.

It was nearly three on the Saturday morning that I saw the car arrive. Lindsey jumped out of the passenger door and appeared to be really happy about something. Then a big guy got out of the driver's door; he went to the boot and retrieved a large rucksack kind of bag from the boot. You know, the sort soldiers are issued with. Effortlessly, he hoisted the large bag onto his shoulder and set off with Lindsey towards her flat with her hanging onto his arm.

Now my immediate instinct was to get out of the car, follow them to the flat and sort this out. But self-preservation had to be added into the equation. That guy was a bloody mountain next to me, and he certainly looked like he knew how to handle himself. Now I'm no coward when it comes to a fight, but I ain't no bloody idiot either. I knew I wouldn't be able to control my temper and if I lost it and took a swing at that bugger, it would be me waking up in hospital the following... week, maybe?

So I sat there and stewed in my anger and grief. Yeah, grief for my lost love; no bloody woman's going to hang horns on me, no matter how infatuated I am with her.

The lights in the flat went dim surprisingly quickly after they'd gone inside. I knew what that was all about; Lindsey just had the light in the kitchenette on in the lounge, subdued lighting without the cost of a dimmer. 

I'm not sure how long I sat there watching before I must have fallen asleep again; it could have been ten minutes or it could have been and hour, maybe I drifted in and out of sleep. Buggered if I know. I can remember looking at the clock some time during the night and the guy hadn't left because his car was still there. But was it four or five o'clock, I have no idea; I really thought that it was immaterial at the time. 

But his car was gone when I was awakened by some noise at nine A.M. I got out of my car and walked back to Lindsey's flat, thinking I'd have it out with her whilst she was alone. But the flat was empty; Lindsey had obviously left with him.

His large bag was on the foot of Lindsey's bed, and his shaving gear in the bathroom. There was also a large pile of towels on the bathroom floor that hadn't been there the previous evening. From the look of it they'd both had showers, or more likely had a shower together in that bloody great big cubical. My blood boiled at the thought.

Checking the bag a bit closer I found his name. Cpl. Jeffrey O'Toole, you know like the Irish actor. And the name of his unit, but that's of no importance. If Lindsey and I had been married, maybe I could have had "a go" at his CO. But we weren't even engaged -- well, not formally anyway -- so there was sweet FA his CO would do.

Attached to the bag was one of those airline baggage tags that I gathered had been issued in Belize. 'So your soldier boy is stationed in Belize, is he, Lindsey? No wonder I've never seen or heard anything about him," I found myself saying out loud. So that's what the bitch had been up to. I was her bit of fun on the side whilst her soldier boy was stationed overseas. Yeah, all the pieces were falling into place. 

I left the flat, returned to my car and then went off to find somewhere to eat. Not too close to the flat; I didn't want anyone recognising me. I was hoping to pick the pair of them up again later in the day and trail them for the rest of the weekend, but I would be prepared this time.

Stoked up with soft drinks and sandwiches I returned to park near Lindsey's flat around eleven-thirty in the morning. It proved to be a long wait until six when that car returned. Lindsey and the guy went back up to the flat and I sat there fuming. I only wish I could have bought a gun somewhere, then I'd have gone up there and confronted the buggers; but they are illegal in the UK.

What would that have achieved? Well, nothing really, but it might have messed up her relationship with lover boy, if I was lucky. It was pretty obvious to me that any relationship I'd had with Lindsey was over, if there'd ever really been one. Hey, the bitch had been treating me as a piggy bank, taking her out and buying her presents. Realising all this was pretty devastating to my ego, I can assure you.

There was the thought of calling for back-up from my friends, and confronting her whilst they were together, but even that would have led to one hell of a loss of face amongst my peers. Shit, the woman that everyone thought was going to be my wife and who kept her legs crossed to me was letting some squaddy shag her. Yeah, that would have done my reputation a shit load of good, wouldn't it? 

Just after seven P.M. a people carrier pulled into the car park. A girl got out if it and made her way up to Lindsey's flat. Her body language made it pretty obvious that she hadn't been there before, but eventually she found the right flat. I was confused when she threw her arms around O'Toole and kissed him when he answered the door. But she then kissed Lindsey as well, once she had appeared on the balcony. 

There was some discussion between the three of them, before O'Toole and the girl came back down to the car .... where there was a further discussion between the car's occupants, O'Toole and the girl. Eventually, three more people - two men and another woman - got out of the car and a shouted discussion was held with Lindsey who was leaning over the balcony outside of her flat.

I couldn't make out what they were saying to one another; they were too far away, but I did realise that they were trying to persuade Lindsey to join them. Then it struck me, Lindsey was waiting for my evening telephone call! When I did my fishing thing, we normally returned to the dock about six o'clock. I'd usually called Lindsey from the boat charter company office as soon as I got there. I wasn't one of the mobile phone set at that time. Lindsey was quite plainly waiting for me to ring before she went out. Probably to forestall any questions from me about why she wasn't home when I did call. 

'The front on the bitch! How long was she planning on playing this bloody charade for?' I found myself asking my empty car. 'Yeah, well, O'Toole is probably on leave and he'll have to go back in a few days,' I thought, 'no point in dumping the mug until you have to, is there?' 

After a lot of persuading Lindsey apparently relented. She went back into the flat and turned off the lights, then went down and joined the others at the people carrier. Exchanging kisses all round I might add. Then after that they'd all climbed inside it and drove away.

I followed at a discreet distance. Whoever was driving appeared to be in quite a hurry as the vehicle raced into the city. I lost sight of it a couple of times, only to pick it up again a couple of minutes later. Eventually I lost sight of it completely and it was only by luck that I spotted it parked quite close to the hospital.

This I found confusing, because there were no nightclubs or anything around that area, just a couple of so-so pubs and a restaurant or two. I could only assume they'd gone to one of those restaurants; there was no other obvious reason for the car being parked in that area.

Just after nine they came back to the car. They were all very excited about something and in very animated conversation, especially the women; but once again I was too far away to make out what was being said. Although O'Toole appeared to be getting his fair share of kisses from all of the women and for some reason the other two guys didn't seem to object. In fact they were laughing and slapping him on the back.

On the return journey, the people carrier stopped at a small supermarket and O'Toole and one of the other guys went in and purchased an assortment of alcohol. It looked like a bit of a party was planned for later on. Then they drove back to Lindsey's flat, but they didn't go inside. After parking the people carrier, all of them trooped off to the pub just along the road, actually walking right past my car in the process, but on the opposite side of the road.

This was to my advantage, because it let me get a good look at them all. They didn't see me because they were more interested in themselves. O'Toole was walking along with one arm on Lindsey's shoulder and the other arm on the shoulder of the girl who went up to the flat. Both girls had their arms around his waist. The other woman and one of the guys had their arms around each other in a similar fashion, and her free arm was holding the arm of the third guy. 

As they got close to me, I realised I'd seen the other girl who was hanging onto O'Toole before. She was some kind of a cousin or something of Lindsey's; I'd met her once at some family party that Lindsey had me take her to down Bristol way. One of the other guys, the one whose arm the woman was holding, I thought was most likely O'Toole's brother; they bore a striking resemblance to each other. The other guy and woman I had no idea about.

Full of beans and looking very pleased with themselves, they all bounced into the pub. Yeah, it wasn't far short of dancing the way Lindsey and her cousin were moving.

It was well past eleven -- the Pub closing time - when they reappeared. I watched as they danced and sang their way back to Lindsey's flat. Where I assume they spent the rest of the night consuming all of the alcohol that they had retrieved from the people carrier.

I sat and watched the flat for maybe three hours, before I realised that I was wasting my time. I could achieve nothing by sitting there. Actually all that I was achieving was upsetting myself even more. A couple of times I dozed only to dream of Lindsey and O'Toole naked and making love on that damned great bed of hers. 

There was the slightly funny side (when I look back at it) that in my dreams O'Toole started out with the body of Charles Atlas or someone like that and finished up with the body of the hulk. But I think that was my subconscious telling me that I'd never better the bugger in a face off.

I have no idea what time I arrived home. I know that one of my brothers had left his girlfriend's car in my parking place. Vague memories of him saying something about working on the thing that weekend surfaced in my mind. The streets are pretty crowded around our way and I was forced to park my car in the local pub car park almost half a mile away and walk home. I was annoyed about that, but it worked out to my advantage in the long term. 

I entered my parents' house quietly so's not to wake anyone; I was in no mood to explain why I was home or what I'd discovered about Lindsey. I crept up to my room, where I finally after almost two nights got some proper sleep.

I must have been really tired because it was nearly 10 A.M. when I awoke. I couldn't believe I'd slept through the noise of everyone getting up and going off to church like we all were required to do by my mother on Sunday mornings. At first it was a bit of a shock that she hadn't demanded that I go with them. But then I realised that the family was obviously unaware that I had come home; they thought I was down on the south coast fishing with my friends.

Missing mum's cooked breakfast was a bind, but not having to explain my presence was somewhat of a relief to my befuddled mind. I staggered downstairs and straight away a note by the telephone caught my eye; it was in my brother's scribble. It basically said that Lindsey had called and asked if anyone had heard from Mack (me) because I hadn't called her on Saturday.

I'm not sure why I picked it up and stuffed the note in my pocket. I think a plan of what my reaction to Lindsey's cheating was going to be was forming in my head. Well, it wasn't so much a plan of action, but a plan of inaction, most people would call it. I got the idea of just pretending that Lindsey no longer existed in my world. I'd just ignore her and any reference to her in the future. Well, I thought it was a good idea, but you must remember I was under a considerable amount of mental and emotional stress at that time.




Mack's Progress Ch. 01



I also got the idea of leaving the house before everyone got back from church. I'd roll up home that evening as if I had been fishing for the weekend. Hey, to whom in the family did I have to explain that I'd seen my girl - sorry, ex-girl - with some other man and had not -- as would be expected by my father and brothers -- decked the bugger. I'd have to come up with some other excuse for ditching Lindsey. But I'd worry about that later. That bit of the plan was to come back and bite me; and would eventually lead to my virtual estrangement from all of them. 

Remaking my bed and checking I'd left nothing behind, I left the house for my trusty car again. A swing past Lindsey's flat (I don't know, morbid curiosity I suppose) showed me that his car was still there but the people carrier was missing. Three minutes in a telephone box informed me that Lindsey wasn't answering the flat's number; so she was most likely with the rest of them somewhere.

"Burning the candle at both ends, aren't we, Lindsey?" I said to myself, as I hung up on the ringing tone. "Out until three on Saturday morning and partying until god knows what time this morning; eleven-thirty and you're out with him again. Must be making the most of his leave!"

I spent the day poodling around, just trying to find something else to think about unsuccessfully. Several times I passed Lindsey's flat, spotting that the people carrier was back there before six P.M., but gone again by eight. O'Toole's car was also gone when I made that eight o'clock pass. That was the last time I ever went near that flat.

Around midnight and on the right and wrong side of several beers, I arrived back at my parents' house. My parking spot was vacant this time, so I didn't have to walk half a mile.

"Why didn't you call Lindsey, Mack? She's been calling all afternoon," was the greeting I got from my mother. "You'd better call her right now. The poor girl's frantic with worry!"

"Yeah, fine, mum," I answered and went out into the hall where the home phone was kept. I didn't call Lindsey; I pretended that I didn't get an answer from her place. Mother thought that sounded odd, but I told her Lindsey had most likely turned the ringer off when she went to bed. Mother appeared to think that was logical.

"When Lindsey called yesterday she said you hadn't called her at all over the weekend; you'd better see if she's turned her telephone on this morning," my mother said to me as I entered the kitchen the following morning.

"No time now, Mum. I'll call her later at work. I'm running late and misery guts Peters (my boss) will be on my back again if I'm not careful," I replied.

"If you're not careful, you'll lose that girl, Mack!" Mother commented. "Why didn't you call her anyway? It would have taken only you a few minutes out of your fishing to call your fiancée."

"There just wasn't a working telephone handy, mother. And besides she not my fiancée. I'm not so sure that she's anything to me anymore."

"Why? What's happened? I thought you were crazy about the girl. She's madly in love with you."

"Things aren't always what they appear to be, mother. You know that. Like this bleeding job of mine, Peters is like a bloody slave driver. If he gives me any strife today, I'm liable to tell him where to stick his damned job," I raved back at her.

"Mack, there's no need for that kind of language. Mr Peters pays your wages, remember. He deserves value for his money!"

"Value, yeah, but not blood. That's all that bugger ever wants. Anyway I'd better go," I said, gulping down the rest of my mug of tea. "See you tonight, mum."

"But what were you saying about Lindsey?" I heard my mother asked as I closed the door behind me.

I'm not sure why I didn't just tell my mother that I knew that Lindsey was seeing another bloke. I'm pretty sure it would have saved me a lot of grief with the family in the long run. Could be I wouldn't have finished up estranged from them either. But I didn't know how events were going to get away from me in the following few days when I left the house that morning.

It might have been a good idea to call in sick that day as well, because things started going downhill the moment I arrived at the warehouse. Peters must have had almost as bad a weekend as I'd had, because he was on my back from the moment I stepped through the door. I can't put my finger on any particular thing, but it seemed like he was tearing me a new arsehole about something every couple of minutes of so. But then sometime during the morning Lindsey tried to call me on the company number and he went ape-shit at me.

You've got to understand this Peters wanker. I'll bet he was as sweet as pie to Lindsey, the same as he was to my mother when she had occasionally called me at work. I'm willing to bet that mother had given Lindsey the damned number; I'd always told Lindsey never to call me at my workplace and I'd never given it to her to ensure that she couldn't.

Anyway as I said, Peters would be all sweetness and light when he spoke to whoever was calling. Then "the shit" would come out into the warehouse and tear me yet another arsehole. The bastard would even time how long I was on the telephone, and dock it from my time card.

"I'm not your bleeding secretary, son. You tell your girlfriend that you can't speak to her now, and remind her that you're on company time whilst you're at it!" he'd replied, when I told him I didn't wish to receive the call.

I just walked into the office and hung up the telephone without speaking into it and walked out again.

"That wasn't very polite!" Peters said after he'd watched me do it.

"Yeah, I'm learning the ropes from a fucking expert, ain't I?" I replied in as angry a tone of voice as I could muster, as I passed him on my way back to the job in hand. 

For some time after that I could feel that Peters was staring at me, from his office doorway. I got on with my work almost as efficiently as I normally did, although every evening at knocking off time Peters would always moan that something that he'd expected to be finished wasn't.

My mind, though, was actually continuing with the task of painting myself into a corner, which my arrogant nineteen-year-old brain couldn't see. I started down a path that morning when I'd lied to my mother that was going to lead to disaster for me in the long term.

By knocking off time that night, I'd been going over in my head all day how Lindsey had been taking the piss out of me and I'd worked myself up into a real state.

"Who gives a shit?" I'd said to Peters when he expressed his usual annoyance that a particular order wasn't ready for dispatch. Then I'd strode past him and clocked out. Peters shouted some comment after me, but whatever it was I'd ignored it!

I was halfway home when it struck me that that probably wasn't a good move. I was pretty sure that Lindsey would have called my house and they'd all bug me to call her back. I couldn't pull the same trick about getting no answer from her flat that early in the evening. So I diverted into the pub where I'd parked my car on the Saturday evening. I knew I could walk home from there at closing time without risking my driving licence.

After calling home and telling my mother that I was going out with some friends for a drink from a telephone box, as expected she mentioned once again that Lindsey had called and demanded that I call her right away. I told her that I would, then headed into the pub where I grabbed a beer and a pasty that looked like it had been in the warming cabinet a lot longer than was advisable. Shit, well, I had to eat; then settled myself in a quiet corner.

It was nearly midnight when I put my key in the front door and attempted to sneak inside, unsuccessfully. My mother, father and youngest elder brother were waiting to pounce on me.

I think I did mention that my family were quite taken with Lindsey. They all seemed pretty pissed at me because it was becoming apparent to them by then that I was avoiding her.

"Lindsey and I are through and that's all there is to it!" I told them in an arrogant tone. Whether it was just my anger or the beer that was doing some of my talking (and thinking) I can't say now. But I told them that there was nothing to discuss; Lindsey, if she bothered to think about it, would know quite well why we were through. Then I stormed off to my room with all three of them shouting that they demanded an explanation. And there I really put my foot right in it, in two ways.

"For Christ's sake, ask the bitch. She knows exactly what my problem is!" I shouted back down the stairs.

My first faux pas there was to blaspheme in my mother's presence. My second was to tell them to ask Lindsey. But I wasn't to realise I'd made the second one until the following evening when my whole relationship with my family collapsed around me.

The day had not gone well, my mother had lectured me in the morning about taking the Lord's name in vain. Lindsey had called the company again and the old man had talked to her for quite some time before he'd come out into the warehouse where we'd had a real set to about me not talking to her, that is until I went into his office and hung up the telephone on her once again. Peters, for some reason, went ape shit at me for doing that, and I told him to mind his own fucking business and keep his nose out of mine.

"Watch your mouth, son, or you'll have your bloody cards on Friday!" he threatened.

Well, I was just about in the right mood for that one. "Stick you f-ing job up your arse!" I'd replied and walked out. Not forgetting to clock-out on the way though. I wanted every penny that tight bugger owed me. 

It was around ten o'clock that night when I discovered that I'd lost control of the situation completely. I was sitting in the lounge at home watching the end of some program before the news came on, when my sister Julia burst into the room.

"You perverted little bastard!" she shouted at me, to be honest taking me completely by surprise. I'd had the lectures from my mother and father earlier in the evening about not talking to Lindsey, but I was totally unprepared for the attack that came from Julia. "Do you know why this little pervert has dumped Lindsey?" Julia said to our parents who were both sitting there with shocked expressions on their faces. "Lindsey wants to walk down the aisle a virgin and this little arsehole has been bugging her to have sex. She didn't want to tell me at first but in the end I winkled it out of her. The poor girl's distraught, you fucking perverted little bastard!" Julia turned and raved at me again.

My mother was telling Julia to watch her language and my father was looking at me with an expression of disgust on his face; Mike, Julia's husband, had followed her in carrying their baby and shared that same expression. I felt about one inch tall.

So, the die was cast. Lindsey had got in with an accusation that I'd have trouble refuting. It could be that it was even true. Had I been angrier that Lindsey was shagging that squaddy than I was that she was shagging him but denying me? That's a question that I've asked myself many times in the intervening years.

Whatever, things took a downward spiral for me at home. In the next few days just about everyone expressed their disgust with me. I didn't retaliate by telling them about Lindsey's dirty weekend with the squaddy. I realised it was too late for that revelation. I'm pretty well convinced that I'd have been accused of trying to sling mud at Lindsey in retaliation for her telling Julia that she wanted to get married a virgin.

By the following Saturday things had reached the point where something had to give and it was to turn out to be me! I packed my gear into my car and lit out for pastures new, with my tail between my legs.

End of chapter 1 



Mack's Progress Ch. 02



 Clarification: In many parts of the UK, a female's "Fanny" is/are her sexual organs, not her backside as is the usual accepted meaning of the term in some other countries. The Publican or license holder of a Public house is known by a variety of names; formally they are the landlord or landlady, and colloquially they are frequently referred to as the Governor or a local abbreviated variation on the word, i.e. Gov-na or Govner. 

*

I wasn't at all sure where I was going to, when I loaded my car. I was well aware that I didn't need to stay local; actually that was the last thing I wanted to do, what with all the family thinking I was some kind of a pervert for one thing. And when my friends discovered that I was no longer with Lindsey they would want to know why we'd broken up. What do I tell them? That she'd kept her legs crossed for me, but was shagging some squaddy behind my back? Shit, that story was going to get out sometime anyway and I was going to look a prize prick.

I thought of going down to the coast and maybe finding a full time job with one of the fishing charter companies. But I scrapped that idea because most of my friends went sea fishing, someone was bound to spot me on one of their trips before very long and word would get around on where I'd sneaked off to.

Then the idea of Norfolk came into my head. There were plenty of holiday sailing and cruiser hire companies up there. I wondered it I could get a job in one of those hire boatyards. That would mean I was working around boats at least, even if they were only Broads' Holiday Cruisers.

Cutting across town I made my way up the A12 past Ipswich and on up to Lowestoft on the coast of East Anglia. Once there I was in Norfolk's Broads region and I began driving from one small Broadland town or village to the next, looking for...? Oh, shit, I had no idea what I was looking for. A bloody great sign outside a boatyard that said 'Help Wanted, preferably a pissed off big city teenager' maybe. I had no idea what I was looking for or how I expected to find it.

I'm not sure what time I pulled into the riverside pub car park. I didn't have much choice really - I'd run out of road. I'd thought there might be a boatyard at the end of the little lane but the road terminated at a waterside pub called "The Willow's Ferry". As I hadn't eaten all day I thought I might as well see if they did food and possibly they might do B&B so I could find a bed for the night there.

The pubs low ceiling made the bar fairly dark inside. There were a few lights on behind the bar itself, I gathered so that the staff could see what they were doing when pulling pints. Not that there were any staff in sight, I assumed that they were out in the riverside garden, which was pretty crowded with patrons, in contrast to the deserted bar.

Taking a seat on one of the stools by the bar I made myself comfortable until someone decided to put in an appearance. I'd been sitting there for about five minutes before a pair of Bristols walked in from the garden carrying a tray of empty glasses. I had to mention them now because... well, they were not something that any male of our species would not notice first about her; they must have come through the door a good half a second before the rest of the young woman did.

"Oh, where did you spring from, luvver?" the broad Norfolk accent, attached to the Bristols asked. And, no, I hadn't got around to looking at her face yet.

I gestured to the door that led in from the car park.

"Well, I'll be, kind of took me by surprise. Most customers come by boat or along the towpath at this time of year. What can I get you?" she asked, making her way behind the bar. Ditching the empty glasses, she began filling half a dozen or so more.

"Pint of best. And do you do food?" I replied, finally forcing myself to look up from those ginormous tits, to her face. It was an extremely pretty face that was wearing a grin that told me she was well aware of where my concentration had been since she'd entered the room. 

Actually it is possible that those Bristols weren't quite as large as they first appeared. The young woman couldn't have stood more than four foot ten or eleven. Her short height seemed to accentuate the size of those breasts. She looked like she needed a counterbalance on her back to support the damned things. Whatever, they were large by any normal standards and to be honest they looked not far short of comical on her. Although I doubted that most hot-blooded young men would have been laughing in quite the way you would imagine if they could get their hands on the damned things.

Where was I? See, I was soon to discover that's the affect those Bristols of Millie's had on most guys. 

The barmaid, who I rapidly was to learn was called Millie, pulled my pint as she was pulling the order she'd obviously taken from outside and placed it in front of me.

"I'll send Martha in to get your order, as she's doing food!" she said looking me straight in the eye. Then she looked down at her appendages, then back up into my eyes, grinned, winked and then left for the garden again carrying a tray laden with beer.

A few seconds later a much older woman appeared who I gathered was Martha. Efficiently but in a manner that told me the last thing she wanted was another food order she listed what was available and I chose sandwiches. That brought an unwarranted look of disgust from Martha, before she retreated to wherever she'd been hiding when I'd arrived.

Shortly those Bristols returned attempting to hide behind another tray full of empty glasses and Millie set about filling another tray full of pints, half pints and assorted shorts.

"On holiday?" she threw in my direction.

"Nope, looking for a job and some digs for the night. Do you do B&B here?" I replied.

Millie fixed me with a sideways look. "Doing what?"

"Dunno, thought I might find work in one of the boat hire places."

"You'll be lucky! You're not a boat builder; I can see that by the look of your hands. All the boat yards around here want fully skilled men to keep the boats up to scratch during the season," she commented.

'Well, there goes that idea out the bloody window,' I thought to myself. 

"What about B&B?" I asked her.

"I'll have a word with the landlady," she replied, hoisting the fully loaded tray and heading for the garden again.

Martha returned just long enough to place my cheese and tomato sandwiches on the bar beside me.

"You looking for work?" A definitely no nonsense and commanding female voice said from behind me as I started tucking into the first sandwich.

I glanced around to see an attractive woman, possibly in her late thirties or early forties had entered from the garden. I figured that the tray of empties she was carrying marked her out as the landlady that Millie had mentioned.

"Yeah." I nodded in reply to her.

"Can you change a barrel?" she asked, moving behind the bar and starting to fill up glasses as Millie had done before her.

"Changed a few in my time, but that's all," I replied.

"How about washing out the pipes? Have you ever worked in a public house?"

"No, can't say I have. I've changed the odd barrel at parties and the like, but I've never worked in a pub." 

"There's only Millie, my two girls and myself here most of the time. I did have a bar come cellar man but I got rid of him. He took a little too much interest in my girls; you'd better think about that before you accept the job. I can offer you room, full board and all the beer you can handle, providing you don't overdo things. The money ain't good and the hours are worse, but at the end of the season we have a divvy up on how well the season's gone. You interested?"

She'd taken me completely by surprise and for a moment I didn't know how to answer.

"Well, what do you say? I haven't got all day," she demanded.

"But you know nothing about me!" I stumbled out eventually, feeling that I had to say something.

"No, I don't, but you look clean enough, and I've got about a hundred thirsty people out by the river and there's just Millie and me to serve them. From today until after the school holidays finish it only gets worse. So what do you say?"

I made a quick decision off the top of my head. "My name's Mack," I offered by way of reply.

"Right, Mack, finish your sarnie and then get behind the bar. Millie and I will take the orders and look after the cash; you pull the pints and mix the drinks for the time being. Oh, if you get any time, get out there and collect some empties when you can. Do you know how to use that glass washer?

I shook my head in the negative.

"Millie will show when she comes in. Oh, I'm Beverly - Bev to most folks!"

Then she was gone out into the garden again and I began a crash course in bartending in a country pub during the busy season.

The next couple of hours flew by with Millie showing me how to use the glass washer and where the cellar was. There were bottles to be brought up and shelves to refill besides changing several barrels during the afternoon. The old arm was aching a bit from pulling all those pints as well.

A couple of times - well, a lot of times really - Millie came behind the bar with me and I'm damned sure she rubbed those Bristols across my lower back on purpose. Although to be fair there wasn't much room behind that bar, so I could have been reading more into that than there was.

It must have been about half five when two very good-looking young ladies entered by the car park entrance. One look told me that they were Beverly's girls that she'd mentioned earlier.

"Ooh wee, Pat, look what mother's found!" one of them said when she saw me loading the glass washer.

"Lay off, you two!" Bev's voice came from the garden door. "Mack, these are my daughters Patricia and Michelle. That's Mack and he's helping us out for a few weeks. Now, Pat, get into the kitchen and help Martha out; she's been snowed under all afternoon. And Michelle you'd better give Millie a break, the poor girls been on her feet since ten o'clock. Old Bert never turned in and we've been running about like blue arsed flies all day. Then you'd better spell Mack here for a while, he hasn't sat down since he walked in the door either." 

Both girls called, "Hi, Mack, catch you later!" then ran upstairs where I think they must have just changed their shoes, because they were down again in minutes and working like a couple of beavers.

Millie came in and hoisted herself onto one of the bar stools just after Michelle went out into the garden.

"It ain't always as bad as this!" she said in her Norfolk accent. "But bank holidays are always pretty bad. Surprising what difference it makes not having Bert here to pick up the empties."

"Bert?" I asked wondering who the hell he was.

"He's the pot-man. Just an old boy from the village, collects the empties for his beer. Nice old boy, but he's getting on a bit and has funny turns some days. We certainly miss him when he ain't here."

I had my break and then the evening was more of the same, although more folks moved into the bar as the light began to fade and the evening got cooler. Some customers began to turn up in cars as well. With Bev's daughters there, it became easier for everyone and Beverly took time to show me where I was going to sleep. She explained that it had been a brew house at one time but her husband had it converted into a little self-contained cottage. 

It consisted of one large room with a sofa, a four-foot bed and a little kitchenette (reminded me of Lindsey's place but smaller) and a separate toilet and shower. The main point was it was accessible from outside the pub, so I wasn't sleeping in the same building as the women. Could be that I felt a little disappointment in that. But later it was to prove a real boon.

To be honest the rest of the weekend was a bit of a blur. I must have been dog tired when I finally got to bed that night and it seemed only a minute or two later that Millie was banging on the door telling me that breakfast was on the table in the kitchen. After a hurried breakfast, punctuated by people knocking on the kitchen door asking for Sunday papers, milk, eggs butter and the like. 

Bev sold those things during the summer. "Out here, if there's a captive market you have to tap into it," Bev explained. "I've got an arrangement with the nearest village store."

Then it was all hands down to cleaning the pub and restocking the bar for "Sunday's bash" as Bev termed opening hours. I was introduced to old Bert when he turned up; it was surprising, he recovered a great number of glasses that we'd missed the day before. Amazing just where people will put empty glasses, considering there are tables about ten feet away.

Some of the boats out on the river moved on and others arrived to take their place, some obviously planning to stop overnight while others moored just for an hour or so. Whatever, once twelve o'clock came along we were back in full swing again. The intricacies of the till were explained to me and for just some of the time I was aware of Bev and Millie mentally checking my calculations. But they appeared satisfied. I was pretty well shattered when I hit the hay on the Sunday evening. 

The bank holiday Monday seemed to be worse than the Saturday had been, but thinking about it I'd worked less than a third of the Saturday. That Monday was a real killer. Damn. I was working so hard, I don't remember much of the day. So it was the third evening on the trot that I collapsed into bed exhausted. Only I didn't go straight off to sleep that night, I lay there thinking about what had happened in the last couple of weeks. When I did finally get to sleep, I dreamt about Lindsey being with that bleeding squaddy again.

"Christ, you look shattered this morning," Millie said as I joined the four ladies at the table for breakfast.

"Yeah, didn't sleep as well as I could have," I replied.

"Leave it out, Millie. You're used to this work; Mack will get into the swing of things in a few days," Bev said. "Right, Mack, I'm off to the cash and carry this morning, you'd better come with me so you know where it is and you can carry the heavy stuff for me." 

The two girls and Millie looked at Bev when she'd made that statement, and then at each other. Something passed between them; I know not what? 

"So what's your story, Mack?" Beverley asked as we pulled onto the lane from the pub car park.

"Sorry?" I replied, feigning ignorance about what she was asking.

"Come off it, young man. What are you running away from and why?" 

I didn't answer her.

"Come on, what is it? A girl or a wife? No, I don't think you're the type to run out on a wife, bit young for kids anyway. So it's got to be a girl, but why haven't you been in touch with your family since you've been up here? I know it's only three days but you haven't called a soul." 

Shit, if I didn't tell Bev she'd have written her own scenario by the time we got to the cash and carry.

"It was a girl, Beverley. I discovered that she's been sleeping with a squaddy behind my back. To be honest, I get the feeling that I was the diversion whilst he's been stationed overseas."

"Oh, nasty of her. Stringing you along, was she?"

"Yeah, you could say that!"

"But why haven't you been in touch with your family though?"

"They took her side. To their mind, I was at fault!"

"How do they work that one out?"

"Please don't ask, Bev. It's all too damned complicated for me to think about."

"Fine, as you wish, Mack. I'll not ask any more. But we'll need to get the legal side of things sorted out; I'm going to need your P45 before too long."

"I'll call my old boss and have it sen...." I stopped speaking as I realised that I didn't want to let Peters know where I was living. There was a chance he'd tell Lindsey or even my family. Okay I was probably being bloody minded, but for the time being at least I wanted to have disappeared off the face of the earth as far as everyone was concerned. Beverley must have realised what I was thinking.

"Don't worry about it, Mack. I'll give you the address of a pub in Norwich and they can forward it on from there. My sister and her husband are the landlords there; they won't tell anyone where you are if they can help it."

We filled Bev's car up with all kinds of stock that she needed for the pub and then returned. She told me that she might need me to run down there on my own sometimes, mentioning that Millie didn't drive and that her daughters were at college a lot of the time.

We hadn't been back at the pub long when the brewery dray arrived. For the next hour or so I was down in the cellar with Millie swinging barrels and beer crates around. I was surprised that, for her size, Millie could handle a full barrel of beer better than I could. Mind, she had had the practice and she had some extra weight, if you understand me.

I think it was during that afternoon that I realised that Millie's Bristols rubbing against my back hadn't been as accidental as I'd thought it had. I knew Millie's appendages were somewhat larger than most. But none of the other women - Beverley, Patricia or Michelle - seemed to find it necessary when they passed behind me. Well, to the extent that I felt Millie's tits on my back anyway. 

Although I was damned sure that both Michelle and Patricia backed into me - supposedly accidentally - more than once. Michelle commented, "Oh, I see you enjoyed that!" on one occasion, then giggling to herself as she carried the drinks she'd been pouring out into the garden.

Yeah, well, all four women had damned fine figures and both Patricia and Michelle wore rather short cut off denims and blouses tied just below their breasts, leaving a large area of bare midriff showing. "Does wonders for the tips from the dirty old men!" Patricia said when I complimented her on her appearance one day. "But keep your hands to yourself or mother will castrate you. Either that, or Millie will scratch my eyes out. She's after sampling your wares, you know?"

I didn't reply, figuring it was better to feign ignorance again. But Millie was to prove Pat correct the following morning. Bev had gone off somewhere; I assumed that the girls had left for college early. I was down in the cellar with Millie where she was showing me how to clean out the pipes when it happened.

Completely without warning I found myself looking at Millie's two massive and very naked tits.

"What d'you think? Better in the flesh?" she asked.

I'm not sure what I replied, although I had to admit I was having some difficulty in breathing, and understanding how a pair of tits that large didn't appear to have sagged in the slightest, without a bra to support them.

"Wanna closer look!" Millie said advancing on me very determinedly.

"Millie, we are supposed to be cleaning these pipes, aren't we?" I said trying to head her off at the pass. I didn't want Bev returning and finding Millie and me in a compromising situation.

"They're done; all we got to do is change them back to the barrels and flush the beer through. Now how about I flush your pipes for you," she said. Millie pushed me back against a stack of beer crates, and fell to her knees in front of me.

Yeah, well, I was not in control of the situation after that, and I doubt many guys would have been, once those Bristols of Millie's came out. 

I could feel those naked tits pressing against my naked knees, as Millie gave me the best blowjob that I'd ever had in my life. You know, I can't even remember her undoing my belt and pushing my trousers and underpants down.

"Millie, I'm nearly there!" was greeted with a rather strange hand signal, and a couple of grunts that had the effect of finishing the job, somewhat quicker than I'd first imagined.

"I've cleaned this cellar once today. I had no intention of letting you shoot off all over the place!" Millie said when she finally came up for air. "Nice tool you've got there. I hope you can last a bit longer when you fuck me."




Mack's Progress Ch. 02



"Millie!" I said for want of anything else to say.

"Come off it, Mack; you want to feel these things wrapped around that dick of yours. I know that's the first thing guys think of when they see them."

"Well, not exactly, Millie; I was wondering whether a guy could suffocate between them actually," I replied in a smart arse fashion.

"Whole line of them in the village cemetery, Mack; believe me. Anyway if you want some of these," she said, looking down at her breasts, "I want some more of this fella," as she gave my rapidly deflating cock another squeeze."

She'd no sooner said that than she returned to the job in hand. Mind she did have to replace her harness first. Tits that size, are not kept under control by any normal bra. Then the low cut blouse went on over the top. I looked down at her cleavage.

"Tips and lots of nice big ones from the holiday makers," she said grinning up at me.

"One of the girls said that!" I commented.

"Of course, who'd you think taught them how to get the best tips out of the lecherous old buggers? You wouldn't do yourself any harm to wear a tighter pair of trousers Mack and concentrate on serving the ladies with a smile on your face. That's an impressive piece of meat you've got there. You never know; you might get lucky as well. Oh, by the way, with the holidaymaker women, always use protection; you can't be sure of who they really are, you know."

"Do you... um, use protection... with them, I mean?"

"Bugger, Mack, what do you take me for, a bloody slut or something?" Millie was looking and sounding annoyed with me. I can't say that I blame her, although the language that she normally used was somewhat explicit and maybe sounded smutty to my ears. But thinking about it, it was more likely she used that language to tease the male customers who thought that they might get lucky. I had noticed some of them slip in the odd grope now and again. And Millie hadn't exactly chastised them for it.

"I don't shag all and bleeding sundry, Mack, I just tease the buggers to hell." She looked down at those Bristols again, wobbled them from side to side seductively and then grinned at me. "A girl has to use her god given assets. Besides word would soon get around if I started putting out left right and bleeding centre. Couldn't have Philip Warminster hearing rumours like that."

"Philip who?" I asked.

"Warminster. His old man has 10,000 acres of the best land around here. He's going to marry me one day."

"You're engaged?" I said in total shock.

"No, not engaged. Philip wants to marry me though, always has since we were at school together. Silly sod's got a problem though; the whole damn family has religion real bad. You know the day after the bugger took my cherry; he went and confessed to the local Vicar. The Vicar made him promise never to touch me that way again until after we are married and the bleeding idiot not only made the promise, he's bloody well kept it."

"Silly bugger," was the only comment I could think of to make.

"Yeah, well, Philip fucked me that night and... well, he might be able to remain celibate, but I'm buggered if I can. I love sex and I intend to have as much as I need. I just have to find myself a nice, non-local guy who won't go blabbing to all and sundry. Preferably well endowed as well; Phillip's got a pecker almost as big as yours."

"But why not just marry the bloke and you can have all the sex you like. And 10,000 acres that ain't to be sneezed at either," I suggested.

"Can't. His grandmother got the story from the Vicar and she's threatened to disinherit Philip if he marries me. We've got to wait until the old witch pops her clogs. The moment she's in the ground, we'll be down that bleeding aisle like a bullet out of a gun."

"His grandmother! What about his parents?"

"Ah, they're as good as gold. His dad is always saying that if Philip can't marry me because of the grandmother, he should bang me anyway, before he does the job for him." She looked up at me with a grin on her face. 

She must have read the question in my face.

"Naw, I ain't into incest!" Millie said.

"Would it be incest?" I asked. That's a question that had never come up in my life before.

"Dunno, but I don't intend to find out. Could you imagine it? I'll bet the dirty old bugger would want some, even after Philip and I got hitched; that ain't a risk I'm about to take in a hurry. You'll do nicely for the moment, thank you. Now just make sure that the bolts on the old door in the cottage bathroom are pulled back tonight." Millie grinned at me again, then ran up the stairs back into the bar.

It was well-gone midnight when I got out of the shower and I crawled into bed that night. The day hadn't been as bad as some, but bad enough. I suppose it must have been about one when I heard the old door that led into the pubs kitchen open, and then Millie's tits appeared around the shower room door. Followed by her cheeky face.

"Ready for me, stud?" she asked.

"I'm not sure this is right, Millie. You're all but engaged to this Philip guy," I said. That point had been rolling around in my mind all day. "Don't seem right to me somehow. You know it's what my girl was doing to me, don't you."

Oh, I suppose I'd better explain to the reader here, that I'd told Millie all about Lindsey and what I'd caught her doing, when we were chatting in the bar during a quiet spell one evening. I'd probably imbibed a little more of my free booze than I should of that day.

"Not quite, Mack. Did you ever fuck Lindsey?"

"No, I told you she wouldn't let me. That's what really got my goat. She was shagging him and wouldn't let me get a sniff. Don't do much for the old ego that, you know. I would have been mad about her being with him anyway. But her shagging him and not me; that really screwed with my mind."

"Yeah, I'll bet it did. You didn't look too good when you turned up here, you know. Anyway the point I'm trying to make here is that Philip did fuck me. The bugger was my first - to actually shag me that is - and I enjoyed every fucking minute of it. Three times I came, you know! Not bad for a first time, from what I hear. Most of the girls complain that it hurt the first time! Well, it didn't hurt me and I couldn't wait for the next time. But what does Philip go and do? The bugger cuts me off because that bleeding hypocritical Vicar told him that sex out of wedlock is a sin."

"Oh, I don't expect that the vicar is a hypocrite, Millie. It's just what he believes."

"Bollocks, do you wanna know where I first learnt about sex? Watching that dirty old bugger banging my mother, that's bloody where! My dad had passed on, and the vicar - he was just a curate back then - he came around to commiserate with my mother. They were still in the parlour when I went to bed, the sod was reading the bible and giving mother all that 'Father has gone to a much better place' crap." 

"I got thirsty and went back down to get a drink sometime later, and the bugger was shagging the backside off my mother on the parlour floor in front of the fire. They were so into it that I watched the pair of them at it for an hour or so and they never knew I was there. Watched the old sod with her a few times since as well. And I've got a good idea how many other women in his parish the bugger services on the quiet as well. Not only widows either, I might add.

"He'd like to get into Bev's knickers, but she won't let him and the sod's hinted that he wouldn't mind getting into mine as well. I told the bugger where to get off." 

"I'll bet you did, as well," I said with a smile on my face. This Millie was so down to earth and outspoken, that you couldn't help but laugh at the way she put things most of the time.

"Anyway, if Philip would shag me, I wouldn't be here now; but as the bugger won't, then you get to have some fun, okay?"

"I should imagine there's all kind of holes in the argument of your logic, Millie. But I don't think I can be bothered to go down that road. Well, not tonight anyway."

Millie, who had been sitting on the side of my bed, lent forward and kissed me. At the same time she lifted her backside off the bed and the covers were snatched away and thrown on the floor.

"We won't be needing them, or this," she said, breaking the kiss and removing her nightdress. "Here, have a suck on these. I know that's what you've been waiting for; all the guys like the idea of sucking on these buggers," she said, jamming one of her enormous nipples into my mouth.

It was pretty obvious to me that sex with Millie was going to be different to any sex that I'd ever had before. I figured that it was going to be all about sex and having fun. She made that pretty plain from the outset.

Whilst I worked on those Bristols of hers, one of her hands found its way down to my rampant member. Jesus, it couldn't be anything else with Millie trying to force a big soft football into my mouth.

"Seems my friend here needs a little attention," she said as she removed her tit from my face -- letting me breathe again - and lowered her mouth onto my cock.

Where that girl learnt to give head, I don't know but she was damned good at it.

"Take it easy, Millie, or I'm going to cum before we've got started."

"No problem. I'm sure I can get the bugger up again. Besides I like the taste of yours. The last bloke I had regular was into all that Indian and Chinese food. Shit, it tasted awful sometimes."

"Too much information, Millie."

"Sorry, hurts the old ego, does it?" she said, looking up at me.

"A little, yeah."

"Well, don't let it. His cock was nowhere near this big, I can promise you," she said, and then a curious expression came on her face. "Maaack, " she said in that drawn out way that tells you that you're just about to be asked a question or conned into something.

"Yeeeessss, Millie," I replied.

"I was wondering, have you ever gone down on a girl. You know what do they call it, muff diving or eating pussy?"

"Can't say that I have, Millie. Why do you ask?" I replied, as if I didn't know what was coming next.

"Well, I found this magazine on the side of the river. We had a bunch of young boys on a school boat trip; I think one of them must have dumped it before the teacher discovered it. Anyway I'd heard of muff diving years ago when I was at school, but I never heard of anyone - well, blokes, I mean - who'd ever done it. There were a couple of real lessies at my school and everyone called them muff divers, so I suppose that they did it."

"Yeah, I'm told that's something they do," I commented.

"Well, in this dirty mag I found, they said that men do it to women."

"Yeah, I've heard the same thing."

"And you've never done it to a girl?" 

"No, the subject never came up. Look, Millie, I've only been with a couple of girls, you know. I'm not what you'd call a great lover or a man of the world, or anything. I suppose if a girl asked me to go down on her and I thought that she was clean I'd have a go. Not sure how good I'd be though."

"Mack, look, I don't know what you think of me, but I've only been with four different guys. Three if we don't count this morning with you."

This bit of information was a complete shock to me and I treated it with more than a little scepticism, but I was later to come to believe it.

"Honest, Philip was my first and after waiting for yonks for him to get up the courage, he only shagged me that one afternoon out by the windmill. Then when he refused to fuck me again, I got frustrated so I picked out this lad who was passing on a boat one day. Bloody disaster! He had the smallest cock I've ever seen and, well, all he wanted to do was suck on these things. Just to top it off, he or rather his mates thought that they were going to take turns with me. I kicked one of them in the balls and they soon got the message."

"And then there was John, a guy who was working at the boat yard along the river. He was a lot older than me and he taught me just about all I know. He never went down on me though, but then again, I never asked him to."

"What happened with John? You aren't shagging him anymore, are you?" I asked out of curiosity.

"About two years ago the silly bugger got drunk one night and fell in the river on his way home from here. Probably tripped over someone's mooring line. They found him in the water the following morning and I've been going without since. Until you came in the bar the other day, I planned on bedding you the moment I saw you."

"You did?"

"Too right I did when I saw that bulge in your trousers, just after you'd clapped eyes on these buggers."

"Millie, those tits of yours give every red blooded man for miles around a hard-on when he sees them."

"Yeah, I'll give you that, but they ain't packing a piece of meat like this, are they?" she said, squeezing my cock.

"Millie, I don't study other guys' equipment, thank you, so I wouldn't know."

"Take my word for it, Mack. Anyway are you going to lick my fanny for me? I had a shower before I came down 'specially. After all I've sucked your cock for you, haven't I?"

"If that's what you want, I'll give it a try, but don't expect anything spectacular, will you?"

"Brilliant, I knew you were the right one," Millie said, and before I'd even prepared myself she climbed up and over me, then lowered her vagina's lips onto my face.

Yeah, well, I did just about everything I could think of, but I was scratching about in the dark a bit there. The only sounds besides some slurping from me for the next fifteen or twenty minutes were Millie's strange instructions to me and her moans of content.

"Yeah, that's it! Ooh, yeah, do that again! No, like you were doing! Oh, god, that's it, suck my clit again. Oh, Christ, how long is your tongue? You can do that all bloody night?" and then she suddenly said, "Oh, god, I'm cumin'!" and I nearly drowned in the secretions that flowed from her.

Then she slowly collapsed backwards off of me onto the bed. "Blimey that's almost better than getting fucked; I hope you'll do that to me again," she mumbled. Then after a short break to catch her breath she said, "I'd better take care of this guy again, hadn't I?" Then she turned over and started giving me an enthusiastic blowjob again.

"I'm gonna cum again, Millie." I warned her, but she just kept on sucking and bobbing away. I lifted my head and watched her gulp down my load. She looked up at me and grinned.

"I think we're going to make wonderful music together, don't you? Now lets give him some time to recover and you can screw my arse off for the rest of the night. How's that sound to you, luvver?"

"Tiring but enjoyable," I replied. 

The rest of the night -- well, until I, or rather Millie, couldn't get my little soldier up again - was spent shagging in just about every different way we could think of. 

Very early the following morning Millie woke me by sucking on me until I was ready for action then rode me like a woman possessed until she'd cum twice, and screwed the last possible available drop of output from my testicles.

Then she slipped her nightdress back on and sneaked back through the door into the pub. One thing that Millie told me to do, but I forgot about was to lock that door again. Well, I think I might have that first time, but I got a bit casual about it later,

Over breakfast I was to learn that it was Millie's day off, and I was to meet Philip, the guy I was hanging horns on, just after breakfast when he turned up to take her out somewhere. 

Strange bloke, big and I suppose some women -- well, Millie at least -- would have thought him ruggedly handsome. But I got the impression that he had been short changed in the brains department somewhere. Any silly bugger who let a sex bomb like Millie work in a public house had to be a sandwich short of a picnic, didn't he?

I found it acutely embarrassing that evening when Millie and Phil returned and ensconced themselves at the bar where I was working that evening. The worst part was Millie's damned habit of calling every young male she ever spoke to Luvver, and older guys Luvvy in her Norfolk accent. 

I was convinced she used a slightly different tone when talking to me and that Philip would pick up on it. I know that Bev had, or maybe she'd heard Millie during the night before; Millie was quite vocal when she reached a climax.

Millie went outside to see Phillip off and when she came back inside again after maybe half an hour of, I suppose, snogging, she announced she was going to bed because she'd had a tiring day. Then leaning close to me whispered, "Better pull those bolts back again, Luvver. The buggers got me all worked up and left me hanging again."

End of chapter 2



Mack's Progress Ch. 03



Clarification: 

The Met. = London's Metropolitan Police Force, incorrectly known around the world as Scotland Yard or New Scotland Yard, that's just their headquarters.

" Lock-in" locking the doors of a public house outside normal opening hours, so that a private party can be held. Providing no money is exchanged for any of the alcohol that is consumed and no members of the public could gain free access, then it is (or was - UK licensing laws have changed in the last few years) technically legal. In practice a collection was normally held either before or just after the doors were locked, to pay for the alcohol to be consumed.

Diddums, used to express commiseration, normally to a child.



Chapter 03

Millie was in my room and chaffing at the bit to get started when I got there that night. God only knows how she got downstairs in her nightdress and into the kitchen without being spotted by anyone.

"God, that man winds me up!" she exclaimed as she almost tore my clothes off. "I've needed to feel a cock in me from five minutes after he first kissed me this morning. How the hell can any man have the power to do that to someone?" Then she stopped speaking for a couple of seconds before she asked. "Um, any chance you could do me like last night again, Mack?"

I looked at the pleading expression on her face. "Sure, if you'll let me have a shower first," I replied. "It was interesting to see or rather hear your reactions."

"Come on, Luvver, I'll wash your back for you. 'ere, is there anything special you want to try, by the way?" she asked.

There was, but I thought I'd leave it until another time, when I felt more settled with the situation. All this sex suddenly being thrown at me was a little overwhelming.

Well, that's how things played out over the following few months. Millie would fuck my eyes out at least two nights a week and sometimes four or five. The two nights I could guarantee were always the night before and the night after she had her day off with Phil. But often she'd come down on other nights as well. Sometimes she stayed most of the night; other times, once she'd worn me out she'd retire to her own bed. And just a couple of times she suddenly appeared early in the morning "for a quickie" as she put it; tapping on the old wooden door to the kitchen if I'd remembered to bolt it. 

But most of that was still in the future. It was the third or maybe the fourth week that I was at the pub when the village Bobby came into the bar one afternoon. He'd been in before; well, he was around showing his face along the riverbank most every other day or so. This day he removed his helmet and came into the bar, making a beeline for a stool near where I was loading the glass washer.

Placing his helmet on the bar he said, "Got some paperwork here concerning you, me lad," in more of a friendly tone than anything. "Seems you're on the Met's missing persons register, is that right?"

"Dunno, George. Not exactly missing, am I? After all, I'm standing here and you're sitting there talking to me, aren't you?"

"Come on, son, you know what I mean. Someone has reported you missing and has asked the Met to find out where you are. Now, what do you want me to do? I can tell them where you are, or I can just inform them that I've spoken to you, and that you've assured me that you are here of your own volition, but do not want your whereabouts to be made public knowledge."

"The latter please, George," I told him. 

"Very well, son, as you wish. Who's looking for you by the way? Your family?"

"I should imagine so. There's no one else who'd care."

"What about Lindsey?" Millie butted in. I hadn't heard her come into the bar.

"I can't see that, Millie. Lindsey's probably quite happy with her squaddy now that I'm gone!"

"He might have gone back overseas," Millie suggested. 

"Come off it, Millie. Surely she's sussed that I know about him by now, and will have probably found herself another mug to string along."

George was sitting there looking from Millie to me and back again. Obviously he was a policeman who knew when it's the right time to ask questions, and when is the right time to shut up and listen.

"Oh, love triangle, was it?" George commented once Millie and I had gone silent. "But why aren't you letting your family know where you are, Mack?" 

"'e says they sided with her, George! Mack seems to think he's got it all worked out; but I'm not so sure that he hasn't got things all arse about face. Seems odd that the girl would string him along for over a year, whilst she's got a soldier boy overseas."

"I watched her with him, Millie..."

"But you never saw them in bed together, did you?" Millie butted in. "And that flat of hers, you've still got the key, ain't you?"

"Yes," I replied meekly, not knowing whether I was committing some kind of an offence by still having it in my possession.

"Well, don't make much sense t'me," Millie went on. "You could have walked in on them anytime she had him there, couldn't you? An' did you ever see any signs of him around that place of hers, pictures, or even letters and things from him?"

"No, not that I can recall. But I wasn't looking; I had no idea about him at all," I replied

"Well, don't that seem strange to you. After all, if he's the love of her life that you seem to think he is, and he's out of the country for god knows how long; wouldn't she be writing to him or on the telephone to him all the time. George," Millie said, turning to him, "your daughter's 'usband was stationed abroad, wasn't he? Didn't she get discounted telephone calls from him every few days or something?"

"They were free, I think," George replied. "I can't quite remember now. Look, Mack, I don't know the ins and outs of your troubles. But you can take it from me; what you believe you can plainly see ain't always what really is 'appening, you know. The times I've thought I've nabbed some bugger who I thought was up to no good, only to find out that they were just going about their own legitimate business."

"I know what I saw!" I said angrily.

"But you ain't given Lindsey a chance to explain what you saw, have you, Mack?" Millie chastised me.

"Please, Millie, leave it out. You know talking about her upsets me."

"I know it does, luvver, but you should talk to her, give her the chance to explain, before it's too late."

"It is too late, Millie, believe me!" I retorted.

"Looks to me like the man's made his mind up, Millie my girl," George commented. "I think you're flogging a dead 'orse with this one, girl, trying to get him to change his mind, I mean. Right, son, I'll put you down as a found person and leave it at that then, shall I?"

Without waiting for my answer, George picked his helmet up off the bar, had second thoughts about putting it on under the low ceiling, and bade us farewell and left.

That night Millie joined me in my room shortly after I got there. She asked me if I was annoyed with her about what she'd said whilst the policeman was there. Mind, she did ask just before she started sucking on my cock. Who the hell could be angry with a woman who was demonstrating a skill like that?

I suppose it was about a month after the policeman had called that I got a bit of a shock one day. Damn it, if one of my parent's neighbours and his family wasn't mooring one of the hire craft to the bank outside the pub when I caught sight of them.

Luckily, Bev, her two girls and Millie were all around that morning and I hadn't taken much in the way of time off, since I'd been there. After a quick explanation to Bev, I disappeared into my little domain for the rest of the day and most of the following morning, when the guy and his family finally departed again.

Millie had popped in with some food and for a little entertainment during the day; she spent the night with me as well. It was a well shagged out Mack who was laughed at by the girls when I reappeared the following day.

Similar things were to happen a couple of times over the rest of the summer. I was surprised that so many people that I knew, or who might know me, went on Broads boating holidays. But I'd thought that I'd spotted everybody who might have recognised me, before they actually clapped eyes on me.

As I was, it wasn't someone seeing me, but spotting my car in the car park that led to me eventually being tracked down. With almost all the summer customers, or non-locals, arriving by boat or via the towpath, that was the last thing that I expected.  

I was down by the river one morning hunting for stray glasses with Michelle, when Beverley called me back towards the pub.

"There's a young woman in the bar asking for you. I told her I'd send you in," she said to me when I got close to her.

With some trepidation I headed back inside. 'What the fuck does she think she's playing at?' I asked myself on the way in, for some reason assuming it was going to be Lindsey. It wasn't; I discovered my sister, Julia, sitting at a table in the bar, nursing a coffee.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as I took the seat opposite her.

"We've been worried about you, Mack. You might have let us know where you were. Mum's been sick with worry."

"How did you find me here? The police weren't supposed to tell you where I was," I demanded.

"They didn't. It was little Johnny Morris; you know, they live a few doors away from mum. Anyway they were on holiday up here and Johnny said he thought that he recognised your car in the car park whilst he was playing with some other kids. Mrs Morris only told mum the other day so Mike and I took a drive up here on the off chance. 

"Well, you shouldn't have bothered and there's no call to worry about me. A little pervert like me will always survive," I replied.

"That was uncalled for, Mack. We are all worried about you."

"Well, don't be! The moment you started calling me a pervert, that told me exactly what you all really thought of me for all your protestations. You don't need a pervert in your lives and I don't need to be around people who think that I am one. My reasons for breaking up with Lindsey had nothing to do with sex. Well, they did, but not the lack of sex between her and me, understand?"

"Then why did you treat her the way you did? She's been a head-case over it as well. You know she's had to go back down to Bath to live with her parents. She lost her job because she was so upset that she couldn't concentrate on her work."

"She'll probably be nearer to him then, won't she?" I retorted.

I'm afraid that my anger had got the best of my tongue. I'd had no intention of letting on to Julia that I knew about Lindsey's other fella.

"Nearer to who? What are you talking about, Mack? Just explain to me please, what is your problem with Lindsey?"

I couldn't retract what I'd said, but I could refuse to say any more. 

"I told you right in the beginning, Julia. Lindsey knows exactly what my problem is! She kept it hidden from me for god knows how long, so I should imagine she'd make a bloody good job of hiding it from you. Now are we finished? I've got work to do." 

"I know that you want me to go, so I will. But please call mum and dad. They don't deserve to be treated like this."

"And I didn't think I needed to be branded a bleeding pervert either. Seems none of us are happy, doesn't it?"

Julia stood up and went to lean towards me to kiss me, I believe, but I lent backwards away from her.

She shrugged, "I tried. I'm sorry it was me who called you a pervert in the first place. But when Lindsey told me about you and her never having sex, we... I assumed that was your problem with her. I gather it wasn't."

"It sure wasn't, Julia. I was in love with that girl and would have waited forever."

"Yeah, I can see that now. But what...?"

"Ask Lindsey, Julia. She knows." 

Julia held out her hand and I shook it very formally. 

"I'm sorry, Mack. I hope when you've calmed down enough we can get past this. You are my favourite brother."

"Pervert, you mean," I said and turned back towards the pub's garden leaving her standing there. When I looked back as I went out the door she was leaving by the front entrance into the car park.

------------------------------

"That weren't a very nice way to talk to your sister, Luvver," Millie said when she came up to me a short while later.

It didn't strike me at the time, but there had been a good ten minutes delay between my sister leaving the bar and Millie approaching me. I discovered later she'd been doing some meddling.

"Were you listening?" I demanded.

"Couldn't very well help but 'ear you in the kitchen, luvver, the way you were shouting."

"I wasn't shouting," I retorted.

"Blimey! Remind me not to be within a couple of miles of you when you do shout then, luvver," Millie said with a grin on her face. 

I think I must have laughed as well and the pair of us got back to work.

I think it was later that week or maybe the next, that I had my first bit of fly, as Millie put it. 

A family arrived about mid-morning. Husband, wife and two kids, about eight or ten years old. The wife was what I think most guys would have referred to, as a MILF, but she was very quiet and looked kind of withdrawn. 

The husband on the other hand was a pretty loudmouthed and somewhat obnoxious individual, who I was sure was half cut when he tied the boat up just along the river from the pub. The whole family came into the garden for lunch. The husband somehow managed to trip over someone else's mooring lines on the way, he went base-over-apex and finished up in the river.

He went back to the boat to dry out and change, whilst the mother came on to the pub garden with the children. I took her order and remember thinking that she was some looker. Once he'd arrived, I couldn't understand what she was doing hooked up with the likes of her husband. They stayed in the garden all afternoon, not only eating lunch but dinner there as well. The children played on the swings whilst the parents sat; he drank, she looked pissed off about how much he was drinking. 

Around eight-ish the mother took the children back to the boat whilst Mr Obnoxious engaged in a kind of slanging match with several different groups of people in the garden. Twice Bev went down and asked him to lower his voice. It wasn't fighting talk from the guy, more that kind of drunk 'know it all' drivel that gets on a lot of peoples' nerves.

I noticed at closing time he was still there, lying across a bench, snoring away to his heart's content. It was as I came out and made my way to my little flat later. Oh, we were still under the pretence - except where Millie was concerned - that there was no internal access to the flat.

Anyway I could hear a disturbance out in the dark somewhere and see torches flashing about. When I made my way down to investigate, I found the woman and another man trying to get the drunk to his feet. They told me that they were worried he'd wake up during the night and try to make his own way back to the boat. Remembering what Millie had said about her guy John, I agreed it would be dangerous to leave him there and offered to help.

Between the other man - who I never did get a good look at in the dark - and myself we hoisted the drunk up and carried him back to his boat, the wife or MILF guiding us by torchlight. Getting the drunk onto the boat was no mean feat, but we eventually achieved it. Getting him down the stairs into the master cabin, I thought was going to be impossible. In the end, the stranger lowered him down to me and I just kind of swung his bulk onto the double berth where he lay still, and snoring. I don't think his rhythm had changed during the whole strenuous exercise. 

In the light of the cabin, I could see that the MILF – okay, her name turned out to be Mary, well, that's what she told me – was dressed in nothing but a pair of Wellington boots, a negligee and a short overcoat, most probably her husband's by the look of it. The coat had come undone in the struggle to get the husband on board and all of her assets were on display.

When she saw me looking at her, she quickly closed the coat blushing profusely. I said I'd better be going and climbed the stairs out of the cabin. There was something not right about the tableau I'd seen of her standing there. The coat was of the zip-up kind, and zips - whilst they can partially open under the strain of wearers exertions - they don't normally come completely open and disconnected of their own volition, especially without the wearer noticing they have. 

"Oh, you haven't got a torch; I'd better come with you to light your path," Mary said hurriedly, "We can't have you tripping and falling into the water, after all the trouble we've put you through." Then she climbed down onto the riverbank with me and began leading the way back towards the pub.

I recognised the stumble for what it was the moment she made her very bad job of pretending to fall. She turned in the process, and finished up in my arms. I know I can be pretty stupid sometimes, but I knew when a kiss was required. She responded and we stood there kissing for a while, then we walked the rest of the way back to my little flat with our arms around each other.

There was no hesitation at the door. She walked right into my little den of iniquity, kicking her boots off at the door, then she turned and we went into a clinch.

"I don't want you to think I do this kind of thing all the time," she said, but I need someone to hold me close tonight." Then she added when we broke the kiss, "If he keeps up this drinking lark, I'll have to divorce him." 

"You'll have to excuse me. I've been working all day and I need a shower," I said, breaking away from her grasp.

"Is it big enough for me to join you?" Mary asked.

Well, if it was big enough for Millie's knockers and me to play around in there, there was going to be plenty of room for this woman's lithe frame. I didn't actually say that to her though.

I'm not sure that Mary was all that into oral sex, when she started. I felt a certain resistance when I gently pushed her down on me in the shower. She seemed to take to it like a duck to water though, even though she coughed and choked a little the first time I came in her mouth. She did swallow though and, without a second thought about it, later during the night.

I could also see that she was a bit surprised at the size of my cock. I had never thought of it as large, even with the way that Millie went on about it. I'd just assumed that Millie was stroking my ego. But Mary also appeared impressed with it and asked me to go easy the first time I pushed it in her. Pretty soon she was giving as good as she got though and nearly bucked me off a couple of times. And later she went pretty crazy when she got on top. 

Eventually my earnest friend had had enough and wouldn't stand up to play anymore, but she kept on talking and sucking at it, begging it to stand up again. She managed to get him up one final time after we'd slept for a while, just before daybreak when, after playing cowgirl again, she left, telling me that she'd had the best sex of her life and that she was planning a return match the next week, when they came back with the boat.

---------------------------------

"Jesus, six!" Millie said the following evening when she arrived in my room.

"Sorry?" I replied not fathoming what Millie was blabbering on about.

"You fucked her six times last night!" Millie replied.

"How do you know?"

"I counted how many condoms were left in the box," she grinned at me. "I heard you two going at it when I came down last night; so I thought I'd better leave you to it. Bugger, Mack, you used six condoms. Did she suck you off as well?"

"Yeah, three times altogether?"

"It was that little sexy one with the drunk husband, wasn't it?"




Mack's Progress Ch. 03



"Yeah, how'd you work that one out?"

"Thought as much. I saw her watching you during the afternoon. She looked like she needed a good seeing to, and my Mack was just the boy to give it to her. Now, you got anything left for me tonight?" She grinned.

-------------------------

A week later Mary and her husband were back. This time though she must have fed him a fair amount of drink in the boat. Oh, I don't know though, perhaps she fed him a sleeping pill or something. Anyway she was waiting by my little domain's door when I got there that night. She left with a smile on her face and a tear in her eye just before dawn again. I saw her driving the boat away with the children on deck, when I went outside after breakfast. There was no sign of hubby. Perhaps Mary had overdone the sleeping pills or drowned the bugger or something.

My only other experience with holidaymakers - of a sexual nature that is - was with three young women from up north somewhere. I do believe I remember one of them mentioning Salford, but I won't swear to it. They stayed moored up near the pub at night for four days or should I say nights, going off cruising during the day and coming back every evening. 

Anyway the long and short of it was, I had one each consecutive night. The third one was a virgin, who claimed that she'd got curious about what the other two were saying about me. 

I've always wondered how she explained that one to her boyfriend, who she also claimed had been bugging her to have sex with him. Anyway on the fourth night I took the evening off from the pub and visited them on their hire boat. I think we brought a whole new meaning to the expression of 'rocking the boat', and it was my first, (but not my last) experience of having multiple sex partners at the same time.

Millie appeared quite happy about my little escapades. Actually I'd say she encouraged me. Perhaps she thought it might ease my conscience about Phil, who still made me feel very uncomfortable when he was around, picking Millie up and bringing her home from their dates etc.

'Surely!' I thought, "the silly sod would work it out one day!' But I really don't think he ever did. Ah, unless he reads this though. Shit, do you think I'd better warn Millie next time I see her?

I did telephone my parents in the end – Beverley kept on bugging me - and we had all the apology bit from them, not that it made any impression on me. Look, being insulted – that's what being called a little pervert is, an insult – by your own family, does tend to get your goat some. Well, it did mine anyway. 

Unfortunately they also started on the "Lindsey didn't do anything wrong. Why are you being so nasty to her?" track pretty quickly as well. So the telephone call didn't last very long.

More weeks passed, with Millie improving my lovemaking techniques with every nighttime visit. And my understanding of running a country pub that relied on summer holiday trade got pretty good as well. I did have a couple more chances of scoring with some female holidaymakers and a couple of women (one married) who lived locally. I'm not sure why I didn't bang the holidaymakers; perhaps I was content enough with what Millie was throwing my way.

The local women, Millie warned me strongly against getting involved with, and I took her advice. 

"If one of the silly cows gets sweet on you and decides that she wants to marry you, you could finish up either with the kind of reputation that you don't need, or if Carol finds she can't do without your favours, that husband of hers is a big boy. The bugger could kill you without even trying," Millie pointed out.

"But what if Phil ever works it out that I'm banging you on a regular basis, he's rather a big bloke as well!" I pointed out.

"I told you, don't worry about Phil. Remember he's 'ad the chance to shag me every bleeding week since the one and only time he did. I told him what would happen but he seems to believe that it never will. Whatever, the silly bugger's got religion and he's only too willing to forgive just about anyone for anything that they do. You know, sometimes I do wonder whether I should marry the bugger or not; he acts like a complete wimp sometimes. I have a damned hard time not losing respect for him."

I decided not to make any further comment on that one; the way I looked at it, Millie was showing Phil damned little respect anyway.

By September things had quietened down some on the river, and the pub began to change into off-season mode. Marge, the woman who helped out in the kitchen, left because there was no longer a need for her. Beverley said she hoped she could find someone with a few more people skills to replace her the following year. Bev's girls were back at college after their summer break. Some break; both girls worked their socks off most of the time.

I was surprised when Bev called Millie and me together one day and handed us both a cheque, for several hundred pounds. "I've taken the tax off so you don't have to worry about it," she told me as she handed me mine. "Are you going to stay with us during the off-season, Mack?"

"I've got nowhere else to go, Bev; if you want me here during the winter, I'm happy to stay."

"About time you popped home for a few days to see your folks though, don't you think?" she suggested.

"No, I ring them once a month or so and they are still on my back. I won't be going anywhere near home until they let go of it."

"Let go of what?" Bev asked.

"That girl of Mack's, they still bug him about her every time he calls them," Millie informed her.

"Perhaps you do need to talk to Lindsey, Mack," Beverley suggested.

That surprised me. I didn't think I'd ever mentioned Lindsey's name to Bev. I had to assume that Millie must have mentioned her name at sometime, completely forgetting about Julia's visit at the time. 

In late September Bev went up to her sister's pub around Norwich way for a few days. I never did discover why, just a family visit I suppose. Anyway she left Millie and me in charge of the pub whilst she was gone. I had an inkling that Millie and I - or rather I - was going to have problems with Bev's two girls, when they didn't come straight home from college as normal the first day Bev was gone.

This, as far as I was concerned, was out of character. Both girls always seemed very mature and well behaved when Beverley was around. I definitely wasn't expecting any trouble from them when she wasn't. Millie appeared to take no notice and told me not to worry. But of course I did.

"Look, Mack, the twins...."

"Twins?" I exclaimed in shock, interrupting Millie mid sentence. 

I'd realised that there wasn't a very great difference in their ages, but I had no idea that they were twins. Yeah, they looked very similar to their mother and everyone could plainly see that they were sisters, but they were never what you might call identical. There were marked differences between them actually.

"Yeah, twins. Didn't you know?" Millie said.

"No, I didn't have the faintest idea."

"Yeah, well they are, only not identical, that's for sure." Millie looked around the bar as if to make sure that none of the five patrons in the pub were within hearing distance. "The word is that they have different fathers!" Millie whispered, with that 'this is confidential information' look on her face.

"Oh, yeah. But that would mean..." I exclaimed, only very quietly.

"You got it, Mack, two different men and possibly the same evening or day at least. You know our Bev was quite a girl in her time!" 

"And was her husband one of them?" I asked.

"From what I have gleaned, he wasn't her husband at the time of conception, no! I'm pretty sure he is the father of one of them though; she married him after she discovered that she was preggers."

"And the other one?"

"Well, it was either some local guy who I heard was in the army and got killed out in the Far East or somewhere like that, or, believe it or not, our friendly local bobby, George!" 

"But George's youngest daughter; isn't she about the same age as Bev's two?" 

"Yeah, well, don't tell anyone that I told you, okay?" Millie said with a wink.

"Beverley and PC plod, I can't imagine it."

"I can. Haven't you seen the way he looks at Bev?"

"No, can't say that I've ever noticed."

"Well, I suggest you do notice, the next time you see them talking together. Poor old George is all googly eyes over her. And also take note that Mrs PC Plod normally never shows her face around here, does she? Bev and her go at it like hammer and tongs, when they do run into each other, as I hear it."

"Do you think they still get together sometimes, Millie? You know, Bev and old George."

"Naw, pretty sure that they don't actually. Beverley is a tower of virtue nowadays, has been since that husband of hers passed on. Oh, you won't know about him, will you? He died on the nest!"

"What, whilst he was shagging Beverley? What'd he have a heart attack or something?"

"No, a twelve gauge in the arse. He was knocking off some farmer's misses from over the way there. We all thought he was out fishing on the river somewhere, the farmer caught them 'at it' in one of his barns; he was hunting rabbit, or so he said, so he had his shotgun with him. Bang, and that was the end of more than one beautiful relationship."

"Jesus, this all reads like Peyton Place, what with the Vicar, the local policeman and now the bloody publican. Is there anyone around here who isn't shagging someone else's woman?"

"That includes you, Mack, remember?" Millie said with one of her cheeky grins.

I reached and pinched her bottom. We were behind the bar so no one could see.

"Ouch, that hurt!" Millie said quite loudly.

"Not as much as that arse of yours is going to hurt tonight when I give you a tanning for being cheeky." I grinned back at her.

"Ooh, is that a threat or a promise?" Millie grinned. "But I somehow don't think you will tonight Mack." 

"And why ever not?" I asked in surprise, thinking just for a minute that Millie might decide not to join me that evening. I do believe I was trying to do some mental arithmetic calculating when her last period was.

"Never mind, I think you'll be too busy to think about doing anything like that." She grinned back at me and turned away to tidy one of the bottle shelves.

I really should have listened to what she'd said a little more clearly. Or with a more open mind or even thought about the way she said it, a bit more, I suppose. It was only later that I realised she knew all about what had been planned by certain people that evening and Millie could have saved me a lot of mental turmoil.

Bev's two girls turned up about nine o'clock; they had two really obnoxious little turds in tow. It was pretty clear that they had all been drinking and the two boys were pretty free with their hands around the girls, whom I had never seen looking that inebriated before. 

Looking is the important word here; I later discovered that both girls appear to be accomplished actresses. Well, let's put it this way; they were more in control of the situation than I had first assumed. Possibly Millie's training again, or from what Millie had told me earlier, maybe Bev had a hand in it as well.

Whatever, I didn't like the way any of the four were behaving in my bar. Yeah, well, actually Millie was the more experienced and held rank over me when Bev wasn't about. But I was the man of the house, wasn't I?

I told both the guys to tone it down a bit when they came to the bar to replenish drinks for the four of them. Both of the guys gave me that 'who the fuck do you think you are?' look.

"The guy who's going to kick your arse out of here!" I told one of them when he voiced the sentiment.

At the same time I lifted the cricket bat that we kept handy behind the bar for such occasions, so that he could see it.

"And besides, arsehole, if you and matey boy there think you're getting lucky with either of those girls tonight, you are very much mistaken. Whilst their mother's away, I'm responsible for their well being, and I can't see that that includes letting them be alone with two little wankers like you and your mate there," I informed him.

I did notice some giggling amongst all four of them after he'd returned to the table, and I was a little disappointed in the girls' behaviour that night. Later I was to learn that it was some kind of a test that the twins were putting me through.

Around closing time Millie told the guys they had to go. I stayed out of it, but within earshot so as not to inflame the situation.

"Pat's mother owns the place. What's wrong with a little lock in?" one of the guys suggested.

"And I'm the acting landlady!" Millie retorted. "I'm telling you to leave now, before I have to get serious about this!" 

Bev's two girls told the boys they'd better go, although I don't think the guys wanted to. Possibly the fact that several of the regulars had congregated near me, and we were all watching what was happening very closely, had some influence of their decision to finally leave. I do believe one of the boys did get a thump off of someone when he shouted a disparaging remark about Millie's assets outside. I was locking the door when it happened and all I saw was his friend helping the boy up.

I can't be sure on how they just happened to be there, but apparently George, with some of his colleagues, was waiting in a police car at the end of the lane for the two boys as well. I heard that the driver failed the breath test and lost his licence.

"What the hell were you two playing at with those two idiots?" Millie demanded, as I slipped the bolts home on the door.

Both girls started laughing uncontrollably, although Michelle made her way round behind the bar and poured out four glasses of wine.

"A toast to two frustrated Casanovas," she declared, holding her glass up high.

Patricia seeing the confusion on Millie and my faces decided to explain.

"Those two think they are really something," she giggled. "Anyway we heard the other day they have been telling everyone at college that they were not only going to shag Michelle and me, but change partners in the process. They've done it before to a couple of girls, according to rumour. But they forgot that Michelle and I live in a pub, and we can handle our drink better than they can. So when they chatted us up tonight we thought we'd have some fun with them; no way were they going to get into our knickers in a hurry." 

"Christ, girl, you were pushing your luck supposing they'd used one of those damned date rape drugs on you or something!" I commented.

"That's why we suggested that we come back here. We told them that mother was away and, well, you get the idea. We knew that Millie and you would watch our backs. Damn it, Mack; I thought you were going to throw them out on their ear earlier. Oh and in the future don't water our drinks down please, Mack. See, we knew what you were up to, as well."

"Well, Millie and I had no idea what game you two were playing. In the future let us in on it. will you? I thought the pair of you had gone off the rails because your mother isn't around," I lectured them.

"Not yet!" Michelle giggled.

"Pardon?" I asked not understanding the comment.

"Ah, diddums," Pat said leaning towards me and giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Come on, Chellie, let's go and get ready," she said, dragging her sister towards the stairs.

"Ready for what?" I asked.

"You'll find out!" Pat replied as they disappeared.

"Yeah, that's what's worrying me, with the mood you two are in tonight." I called up after them.

More giggling was all I heard in reply.

Millie and I went through the normal after closing time rigmarole. She kissed me goodnight, told me she'd see me shortly, then locked the garden doors as I left through them. I have no idea why I didn't just use the door in the kitchen that lead directly into my bathroom; force of habit I can only assume.

Having had my shower I was nicely tucked up in bed when I heard Millie open the connecting door in my bathroom. Well, that's who I assumed it was, but the shadow on the wall was soon to tell me that whoever it was, she wasn't carrying Millie's extra weight.

Michelle must have taken a dive from the end of the bed because she suddenly landed on top of me virtually me trapping me under the duvet. This - much to her surprise - actually worked out in my favour, because I managed to wrap the duvet around her as we both fell into a tangled mess on the bedroom floor. Oh, I knew it was Michelle by her perfume first and her hair colour once we were in the glow of the light I'd left on in bathroom.

"What the hell are you playing at?" I demanded. After I'd finally established control of the situation.

"Looking for some fun, with you!" she replied.

"Michelle, your mother would castrate me if I laid a finger on you!"

"Then don't! You just lay there like a good boy and Patsy and I will do everything." She grinned back at me.

"You must be joking."

"No, Millie has a real good time with you, and Patsy and I thought we'd like to play as well. You know those boys at college aren't what you call very experienced. Millie gets more orgasms with you in one night than either of us has managed to achieve with all the boys we've ever been with. You can have me first, and Patsy will come in, in about an hour."

"No chance, Michelle. Your mother would kill me if she found out."

"But she won't find out. We certainly aren't going to tell her, and I'm damned sure you won't."

"And what about Millie. Supposing she gets jealous and tells Beverley."

"Don't be silly. Who the hell do you think told us how good you were and made sure that you didn't lock the door this evening. Besides we could always tell Philip where she spends her nights, couldn't we?"

"Is that how you persuaded her to help you, by threatening to tell Philip?"

"Of course not! We wouldn't do that to Millie. She's like a big sister to us. We did persuade her to help us get in here though. After all we couldn't let you fuck us whilst mother's around, so it's not as if she's worried about us stealing you from her. We just asked her if we could borrow you for a couple of nights. You'll enjoy it, honest. Millie's been coaching us in blowjob techniques. Come on, Mack, it can't be often that two horny women proposition you. Just think of the fun we can have until mum gets back."

All during our conversation Michelle had been grinding her body that I had trapped, wrapped within the duvet, beneath me, up against my body. And I think her movements were having the desired effect on my resolve.

The breaking point came though, when another naked body landed on my back only somewhat gentler than Michelle's arrival had been.

"Patricia, get off," I said... well, intended to say but the next few minutes were spent in rolling around on the floor with both of them. Then suddenly the light came on.

"For Chris'ake, are you two going to fuck him or kill him?" Millie demanded.

"Millie, was this your idea?" I asked her.

"No, they wanted to bed you. Or rather they wanted you to bed them. I can't see what harm it will do. After all they are both on the pill, aren't you, girls? And, Mack, they've both been checked, you know, medically, since they lost their virginity. I'm only pleased they want to bed you, rather than some little idiots like they brought here tonight," Millie said.

"But what about Bev?" I asked.

"What about her? She ain't here, is she, luvver! And what she don't know, can't hurt her none, can it?"

"Besides, one of these days mother is going to be feeling especially randy and it'll be her coming through that door instead of Millie one night, you do realise that, don't you, Mack?" Michelle added.

"Do what?" I asked in amazement at the suggestion of her mother's intentions.




Mack's Progress Ch. 03



"Look, Mack," Patricia said, "We thought mother was going to proposition you that first week. You know, when she took you to the Cash and Carry. But then Millie got her hands on you..."

"Only because I saw him first!" Millie butted in. "I think Bev's steered clear up until now because I did get in first, but I can't see her hanging around much longer."

"Jesus! What have I got myself into here?" I asked no one in particular.

"A house full of sex starved women and you're the only stud available, luvver," Millie said with one of her cheeky grins. "Well, the only one that we can trust anyway. Now, why don't you get off the floor and give these two good friends of mine the seeing-to that they both seem to be dearly in need of. I'll see you all in the morning. And girls, don't wear him out all at once; Beverley isn't due back for another four nights yet."

Having said that, Millie turned out the light and left the three of us lying there on the floor. I extracted myself from the twins' grasp and sat on the bed. Michelle came and sat on one side of me, Patricia the other.

"Well, are you going to send us away or are we going to have some fun?" Michelle asked. 

I looked at the naked and very beautiful young woman sitting beside me and then looked at Patricia sitting the other side.

"Oh, fuck!" I said out loud.

Patricia threw her arms around my neck and kissed me, pushing me back so that I was lying down on the bed. Within seconds I felt a pair of lips that could only belong to Michelle closing around my still rampant and pretty well aching member. Look, I'd been a naked guy rolling around on the floor fighting with two very shapely and naked eighteen-year-old young women. By that time I had a bad case of what I think the Americans call blue balls.

Now I've heard of two guys double-teaming a woman, but those two girls double-teamed me that night. One ground herself into my face, whilst the other bounced up and down, impaled on my cock. I would have loved to have a videotape of that night and the following three. On the last night before Beverley was due back, the girls visited me one at a time, staying for an hour or so each. I do believe the plan was for each of them to visit me once, but Michelle came back in three times and Patricia twice before I'd reached complete burn out point. Patsy did wake me early in the morning with a blowjob though, to even the score.

End of Chapter 3



Mack's Progress Ch. 04



 Submission of this chapter was regretfully delayed by circumstances beyond my control.

Clarification: "Wetting the babies head!" Celebration that a birth has gone safely and successfully. 

*

For the first three days after Beverley returned from her visit to her sister, I didn't think she suspected a thing. She didn't say anything or act any differently towards me than she had done previously.

It was on the Monday night following her trip to Norwich that Beverley let me know that she knew about all what I'd done to, or rather with, her girls.

The first inkling that I got that she knew, although I didn't recognise it as such at the time, because, well, you'll understand after you read on. But I did fear exactly what was going on at the time for obvious reasons. My confusion was caused by what the girls had said about Bev intending to join me in bed, and it kind of clouded the issue. 

Anyway I was in the shower that night and I heard the door to the kitchen open; then I felt the cold draught come around the shower curtain, that announced that I had company. I assumed that it was Millie; but a Millie who - unlike was her habit - didn't climb straight into the shower with me.

When I pulled the curtain back to see why Millie hadn't joined me in the shower, the sight of a very naked Beverley standing there smiling back at me, greeted me.

"I thought it was about time you made it a full house, Mack!" Beverley said, with that smile on her face getting bigger as she looked over my naked form.

I was most likely smiling back at the sight that I was beholding, as well. I don't think I picked up on the "full house" comment. Well, not consciously anyway; I was too busy marvelling at the thought that the forty-something-year-old Beverley had retained her figure so well. 

Look, just because a woman looks good with all those undergarments they wear keeping things roughly where they should be, doesn't mean things are going to remain that way when she's naked. 

Anyway remember, this was the woman who warned me off touching her girls. Several times she'd mentioned castration that I could recall, and Beverley - although a fair looking woman for her age, who had as I could plainly see maintained her figure far better than most - was one tough cookie. Believe me, a threat from Beverley wasn't to be taken lightly. But I think the lecherous side of my mind was doing all the real thinking that night.

I didn't move though. I really do believe that in the back on my mind somewhere, I expected Beverley to produce a knife any minute and complete the task she had threatened in the past. Although, being stark naked there really weren't many places she could hide one. I must have just stood there and stared at her with a silly grin on my face. Was it nerves about having laid the twins, or was it the anticipation of enjoying Beverley's undoubted charms. I'm buggered if I have any idea now.

"What's up? Isn't this old body good enough for the young stud?" she asked.

"No, Beverley you've got a wonderful figure. You just took me by surprise, that's all," I blustered, reaching for a towel.

But Bev beat me to it, snatching the towel from the rail and attacking me with it, rubbing me down with vigour. When she considered me dry enough for her needs, she led me by holding on to my by then rampant again member to my bed. I think my little mate must have gone up and down like a bleeding yoyo whilst I'd tried to understand the true reason for Beverley's visit. Once she took me in hand he was ready for just about anything, and definitely raring to go.

Once we got close to the bed, there was no messing around on Bev's behalf. She put her arms around my neck and clamped her lips against mine, her tongue trying to locate my tonsils I think; then she dragged me down on top of her onto the bed. 

As with Millie and the girls, although there was plenty of kissing and cuddling involved, it wasn't really any proper love making. We fucked each other silly every which way that you could think of doing it, and maybe a couple more for the next hour or so. I do believe that Beverley knew more positions than Millie and me between us.

After a good couple of hours of strenuous exercise Beverley and I were laying there in each other's arms.

"Did you have them both in bed together, or did you fuck them separately?" she suddenly asked.

"Sorry?" I replied feeling worried again and feigning ignorance of what Beverley was referring to. I figured that was the most diplomatic course to steer at the time.

"Michelle and Patricia, did you fuck them together or separately?" she asked more clearly this time.

I was scratching around in my brain trying to come up with an answer of some description that wouldn't lead to Beverley castrating me with her bare hands.

"Mack, I'm not exactly daft. You realise that with no men in the house, the girls tend to walk around in negligees at night, don't you? Now you turn up here and less than a week later Millie has suddenly decided to do without her pubic hair any more. Then some months later I go away for a few days and when I return I find that both my daughters have decided to go sans pubic hair as well. It doesn't take a bloody rocket scientist to realise that someone very skilled, has been chewing away on their pussies, now does it?"

"And from the racket that Millie makes when you're chewing on hers. Oh, by the way that chimney over there is connected to the fireplace in my bedroom and every sound you make in here carries up the damned thing. And before you ask, yes, I have been getting myself off to the sound of Millie's ecstatic cries ever since you got here. Anyway I had a good idea just how good you were going to be, and I can't blame my girls for wanting to sample some of the pie." Beverley then lent closer to me and kissed me on the nose.

"You don't mind, that they slept with me?" I asked somewhat tentatively.

"Mack, they are both old enough now to get into bed with whoever they wish, and there's sod all that I can do to stop them. If they want a roll in the hay, I think I'd rather it be with you than some snotty little shit that they picked up in that college they go to. Or any of the shit slingers we've got around here; some of them aren't too clever either. At least you are a bit choosey."

She smiled at me again, and we kissed properly.

"Mind I thought you pushed your luck a bit with that married bird - what was her name, Mary, wasn't it?"

"You knew about her?" I said in surprise.

"The chimney, stupid. I can hear every word said in this room if I try. If you didn't have the telly or radio on all the time, you'd probably would have heard me moving about in my room."

"Not very observant, am I?" I replied.

"I've lived here a long time, Mack. That chimney let me hear the last barman I had, and his mate, planning on shagging both my girls when they were too young to know any better. Now they are of an age where they can make their own decisions; they can shag whoever they like, when they like and there's sweet FA that I can do to stop them. I can't watch them every minute of every day, can I? But I intend to get my share of the fun as well. Have you got any objection to that?"

"No, baby, I've had one hell of a time with you tonight," I replied. 

I have no idea why I started calling Beverley baby when we were in bed together. Maybe it was because I knew she was conscious of the age gap between us, I'm not sure. But she was the only one that I called my baby. Bev developed the habit of calling me stud in the bedroom as well; I've got no idea why, perhaps she did considered me her private stud.

"Good, that's settled then," Beverley said that after a moments silence and another kiss, "Okay, now if you're happy with things, then all we've got to sort out is how we are going to avoid Millie and me turning up here at the same time; that could prove embarrassing. The girls, well, them you'll have to fit in when you can. As their mother I can't very well go arranging their sexual encounters with you for them, can I? It just wouldn't be right. Here, I'm not saying that you can't shag them though. That's between you and them. But they will have to play second or is it third fiddle?" Beverley said with an unaccustomed giggle.

Then she decided it was time to get down to the business at hand again.

-----------------------------

Before I knew it, Christmas was rushing up on us and that meant the pub bars had to be hung with Christmas streamers, etcetera. Plus I had to discover a way of somehow fitting the nine foot tree that Beverley had purchased, under the less than seven-six foot - at its highest point -- ceiling. That called for a little modification (of the tree) with a saw, much to Beverley's chagrin.

Also hundreds of Christmas cards began to arrive mostly from folks who'd just spent a night or two tied up on the river by the pub. It appeared that they had all enjoyed their brief stay with us, and considered us all as their friends. Some even made kind comments about Marge. I think it was mainly Bev and Millie whom people remembered. Bev, although she looked pretty young for her forty odd years, was referred to as if she was everybody's mother.

And Millie, well who could every forget her. Calling everybody Luvver or Luvvy -- male and females alike - her outspoken use of extremely plain and down to earth language, her almost non-stop repartee of questionable jokes, and suggestive comments. And of course those knockers that nobody either male or female are likely to forget in a hurry and the way she seemed to make fun of them all the time. 

There were some cards from young men whom Michelle and Patricia had obviously stolen the hearts of as well. As well as just a few that Beverley suggested were aimed in my direction.

"One 'ere from some woman call Mary, Mack. Says 'er divorce is going through and she hopes to visit next year with her sister and her husband. Looks like you can look forward to having another hot night or two with her next season," Bev announced with a grin over breakfast one morning.

"Don't he get enough hot nights around here?" Michelle quipped.

"Now, Chelle, don't be begrudging our Mack a little fun," Pat quipped back at her.

If there was some pretence that Bev didn't know that the girls were finding plenty of opportunities to join me in bed, I couldn't understand how it would last much longer. 

A few days later I was outside when the postman arrived and I took the mail from him. Amongst them were some cards to me from my family -- I recognised the handwriting -- and also two cards, one to Millie in Julia's handwriting, and one to Beverley in my mother's. Neither girl mentioned those Christmas cards to me later.

Then a few days after that, I was nipping down to the Cash and Carry and Beverley asked me to drop some cards off at the post office for her. Having handed them to me she suddenly appeared to change her mind, took them back from me and asked me to wait whilst she went into the kitchen.

Of course I watched as best I could, to see what she was doing and saw that after looking through the stack of cards, she removed one and placed in her handbag; then she came back out into the bar -- almost catching me spying on her - and gave me the rest of the cards. 

Millie told me later that the card was addressed to my mother. Yeah, I asked her to spy for me! I took no action of any kind over that card; Beverley had the perfect right to write to whomever she wants to. 

All four of my women did bug me to send cards in reply to the ones I'd received though. Out voted by four to one, with the cards and stamps already bought and paid for, I had little choice but to concede. Although one, that I threw in the fire in front of all of them, without opening, didn't get replied too; it was postmarked Bristol.

It appeared that my family, for some reason, had assumed that I would be short of money. Public house employees in the UK by tradition aren't on what you'd call a very good wage scale. So I must suppose that was the logic they were using. In truth, I did very well working for Bev. About the only expense that I ever had was my car, but as I was rarely going out, I hardly ever used it. Whatever the reason, in the Christmas cards from my family that I received, almost all contained cheques of assorted values. None of which I ever cashed or paid into the bank, by the way!

Christmas morning - my first Christmas away from home -- was somewhat different to any I'd had before. Millie had spent most of the night with me, but I assume by pre-arrangement with the twins, left my bed about four A.M. Shortly after she left the twins arrived in my bedroom, from where they left for the kitchen to prepare breakfast for everyone. Oh, via my shower of course.

We didn't open the pub that morning until nearly half twelve. We'd planned twelve o'clock, but it took slightly longer going to church than anticipated. Yeah, Beverley dragged all four of us (kicking and screaming) to church that morning.

I'm going to say that it was an interesting experience. Almost everyone in the nearby village was there. Excepting for old Bert who'd been left standing guard over the pub with half a bottle of whisky to keep him happy. With all five of us in church it would have been too much of a temptation to the less honest folks of the district to leave the pub deserted.

Of course Millie's beau, Philip, was there but he, being a churchwarden or something and also being in the choir, didn't sit with Millie. She sat beside me and spent most of the service pointing out which females our lecher of a Vicar was banging on a regular basis. Jesus, and I thought I had some stamina. Brave bugger as well some of those women had some pretty big and strong looking husbands sitting with them.

I think the funniest part of the whole thing was watching George our local PC Plod's wife, looking daggers at Beverley. Actually once we got outside and all the inane chat and Merry Christmas wishes were being passed around, I think I spotted what her problem really was with Bev. Bev's twins were standing talking with George's daughter and her husband, I'd say they had been at school together and were old friends. The thing I spotted was that when Michelle was holding George's daughter's baby. Well, to the uninitiated, anyone would have assumed it was Michelle's baby, the likeness was that pronounced.

It was the same kind of likeness that I'd noticed between the two girls and Beverley but I realised that Michelle's features that weren't Beverley's had obviously come from George. Whether Millie had noticed them in the past and decided to not mention them to me for some reason, I have no idea, although Millie had suggested George as one possible candidate for being the father of one of the twins. 

Presents were given out at the pub whilst we ate our Christmas Dinner. We'd closed the pub again at two so we could sit down and eat as if we were an extended family. Even Old Bert stayed to dinner, but with the quantity of whisky he'd consumed I doubt he remembered much about it. Millie and I had to drive him home later.

All the girls - well, I suppose it was Bev who arranged it - had clubbed together and bought me an expensive watch with several complicated timers and alarms on it. They seemed to think it was a great joke, but it was some days before I realised the significance of those timers.

We had quite a few customers in that night, but most didn't stay late. By the time I got to bed I was pretty well raring to go with Millie. She had been rubbing those Bristols of hers across my back behind the bar all evening, and both Michelle and Patricia had groped my cock behind there as well, when they thought the coast was clear.

Anyway it was a bit of a surprise when all three of them arrived in my room. Carefully I put the board that I'd got one of the boatyard workers to supply me with over the entrance to the fireplace. Yeah, well, everyone's got a right to a bit of privacy now and again, anyway I discovered it made Beverley a damn sight more frustrated when she hadn't been able to get herself off whilst listening to Millie and my antics.

Oh, yeah, I worked out later, that there were other listening voyeurs in the house as well, but I'll tell you about that in a little while.

Anyway after shutting Beverley's listening tube down, Millie let me in on what the girls had planned for the night and it gave me a whole new perspective on the girls' behaviour. It seemed they had decided to give me a very different kind of Christmas present. It was to take the form of a little show or play or so they claimed. After watching them in action, I very much doubted that there was any acting involved. 

I was instructed to sit on the sofa in my room and Michelle slid onto my lap to start with, whilst Patricia and Millie started making out together on my bed. They claimed that it was that damned magazine that Millie was supposed to have found again. In there, they claimed -- look, by this time I was taking just about anything these girls told me with a large helping a salt - that there was an article that said that men found watching two women having a lesbian sexual encounter exciting.

Yeah, well, once Pat and Millie got their little show started, I had to agree with that article, if it ever existed. But one thing I was sure of was that it wasn't the first time they'd been together. Michelle, in the meantime, slipped off my lap and was sitting between my legs, "Pretty Woman" style, demonstrating her skills as a fellator.

I couldn't help but notice that although both Millie and Patricia were pretending to be engrossed in what they were doing, they were also engrossed in every move that Michelle made; well, Patricia was, Millie didn't have much chance of seeing anything but Pat's stomach now and again. And very unsurprisingly for me, no sooner had Michelle brought me to my climax than Patricia seemed to reach one as well. 

Damn it, Patricia had got off - be it with the help of Millie's ministrations - on watching Michelle giving me a blowjob. Never in my life did I think that I'd run into women as kinky as these ones appeared to be.

Anyway Patricia and my climaxing rapidly led to Michelle and Patricia swapping places. Michelle and Millie, like Patricia and myself, went into a prolonged snogging session for a while. Then Pat went down on me, and Millie started chewing on Michelle's pussy. This time Michelle stared into my eyes, at the same time as she uttered encouragement to Millie, whilst hanging on to Millie's head with both hands and bucking her hips up into her face.

I came to the conclusion that I was being taken advantage of, just as much, and maybe even more, than I had been taking advantage of these very willing sex partners of mine.

I thought that it was obvious - to me at least - that Millie and the twins had been getting it on together for sometime, they were so comfortable with each other and really seemed to enjoy themselves. It could be that having me watch them excited them and increased their enjoyment even more. Who's to say for sure? 

And using the same logic, it was quite possible that Millie was also getting it on with Beverley. It could possibly go some way to explaining the nights that the somewhat obsessed with sex Millie hadn't come down to join me and some where she hadn't stayed for nearly all of the night.

Whatever, these realisations, didn't lead me to worry about them. Hey, if the girls were getting it on together, then it was even less likely that they would look outside the pub for sexual partners. That meant there was much less of a chance of any of them picking up anything nasty and passing it on to me. So I let the status quo stand, without making comment.

New Year's Eve was great fun in the pub, and a little crowded. I got the feeling that everybody in the village was there. Even Mrs PC Plod put in an appearance for a while just before midnight. I noted several of the regulars placing themselves in positions, so that Bev and her couldn't see each other though. Quite comical, if you happened to know about the history between George and Beverley.




Mack's Progress Ch. 04



I think it was one cold wet and windy night sometime in early February that Mike, Julia's husband, turned up at the pub. We hadn't seen a real customer for an hour or so; the twins, Millie and myself were sitting by the fire playing cards. Beverley was upstairs in her lounge watching one of her soaps, I believe.

Anyway the door suddenly opened and in walked a very wet and bedraggled Mike. You know what body language is like; it was obvious to me that Millie had met Mike before. Those ten minutes that Millie took before she spoke to me that day Julia had visited, sprung to mind. 

Mike would have had to drive Julia up to the pub (Julia always had had zero sense of direction and could get lost driving to the shop on the corner) and I recalled that there had been two coffee cups on the table that day. 

Whilst Mike and I said hello, and I had pulled him a pint, Millie and the girls had quietly disappeared. I wondered whether Millie had been expecting Mike's arrival; I was well aware that she had been in correspondence with my sister from the Christmas card that Julia had sent her. 

Mike and I settled by the fire and he explained he was on his way back from Kings Lynn where he'd been working for a few days. 

"Just thought I'd drop in and see you whilst I was passing!" Mike explained.

'Passing! Come off it, Mike,' I thought. It was some detour from his route to call in at the pub. But on reflection, it wasn't that far out of the way that I wouldn't consider making the same detour myself to visit a member of the family if I were in his position.

For some time our chat revolved around mundane things, like everyone in the family's health, etc. But then Mike seemed to take a deep breath and changed the subject; for a little while I had no idea where he was heading.

"Mack, that mate of yours, Tony!" Mike said and then as if reminding me of who Tony was. "You know the guy you were always going fishing with."

"Yeah, what about him?" I asked.

"Well, I ran into him and a couple of your other fishing friends over the new year." Mike looked at me as if this statement was meant to mean something significant to me.

"Yeah?" was all that I could think of in reply.

"When we were talking they told Julia and me that you came home early from that last fishing trip you went on with them. Well, they said as the fishing was off on the Saturday you went back home again on the Friday night."

"Yeah, there was a storm brewing and I couldn't see much point in staying down there just to get pissed," I informed him.

"Yeah, well, you didn't go home that night, did you? You went to Lindsey's place and thought that you saw her with another bloke, didn't you?" Mike was speaking with conviction now, as if he knew better than I did what I'd seen. 

"There's no thought about it, Mike! I did see Lindsey with another guy. A squaddy on leave, he'd just flown back from Belize."

I thought that this bit of information took Mike by surprise, the fact that I knew some details about the guy and where he'd just returned from. He seemed to think for a few seconds before he continued.

"I'm not sure what you saw or what you think was going on between Lindsey and Jeff, but I know for sure it wasn't what you assumed it was."

"Oh, no? Well, I know what I saw, and I watched them together for nearly two days!" I was getting a little pissed off and my tone of voice possibly informed Mike of the fact.

"Hang on, Mack. Don't go getting out of your pram. Let me tell you what did happen that weekend. You might want to think about some of the decisions you've made, again. I know that at home none of us, even poor Lindsey, had any idea what was going around in your head." 

"Listen to what Mike has to say, Mack, and please keep an open mind." Millie had reappeared from the kitchen again and put her oar in; possibly I'd raised my voice again.

"Go on then, tell me what I didn't see when I know what I did see!"

"Jeff is a cousin of Lindsey's. Did you know that?" Mike said as if that was going to explain everything.

"No, I didn't. So he's her cousin, so what?"

"Well, he's a jungle training expert or something and he'd been stationed out in Belize for a while."

"I think I'd worked that one out for myself, Mike!"

"Yeah, well, I don't know what details you do or don't know, Mack. But let me explain what happened that weekend. If you'd spoken to Lindsey at the time she probably would have explained it to you all herself. None of us had any idea that you were in town that weekend so neither Lindsey nor Julia and I had any idea why you'd got out of your pram. You know Jeff's stuff was still at Lindsey's place when Julia and I went around to see her."

Mike stopped speaking again, possibly waiting for me to bite, but I remained silent.

"Anyway Jeff's wife was expecting a baby and as he was out of the country, they thought it would be better for Rachael to have the baby down in Bath where her mother could look after her. But when Rachael was changing trains in town, apparently her bloody waters broke a month early. So she was rushed into one of the big teaching hospitals."

"St Leonard's!" I said.

"Yeah I suppose so. How do you know? Oh, yeah, you were watching, weren't you? Anyway the hospital got in touch with Jeff's unit and Rachael's mother, who in turn called Lindsey as she lived in town. There were complications with the premature birth, so Jeff was rushed back home. He met Lindsey at the hospital and well, we guess that you saw them together when Lindsey took Jeff back to her flat so that he could wash and change. Jeff had come straight of off an exercise and jumped on a plane. 

Lindsey told us that they spent the whole weekend either at the hospital with Rachael or on the Saturday night when Rachael and the baby had been declared safe and out of danger, wetting the baby's head with Jeff's brother and sister, and Rachael's sister and her husband."

"We figured that you saw a crowd of people having a real old fashioned party and didn't understand that it was all very innocent. Poor old Lindsey didn't put two and two together because she said that you two had had a few words - well, she said that you had a real ding-dong about you going fishing for the weekend and leaving her alone, on the Thursday evening. None of us realised that when you couldn't go out fishing, you'd come back to be with Lindsey and saw her with Jeff. Is that about right?" Mike asked.

"Near enough to how things went that weekend, yeah," I replied.

"Well, there it is. It was all a big misunderstanding on your part. Look, I know Lindsey's willing to give things another try. Why don't you give her a call and speak to her?"

"I don't think so, Mike. That isn't all there was to it, you know."

"I don't understand. I thought I'd just explained to you what happened that weekend. It's obvious that it was all a big misunderstanding." 

What Mike didn't know, and I for some reason - bloody mindedness I suppose - had no intention of telling him was that I'd found Lindsey's birth control pills that Friday evening. So I knew that she'd been having sex with someone, even if it wasn't Jeffrey O'Toole.

"No, something made me lose all trust in Lindsey that weekend and if she thinks about it, she must know what it is. I have no intention of being her fool again anytime in the future, Mike. And you can tell Julia that as well."

"But, Mack..." Millie said obviously intending to join in the argument.

"Leave it out, girl!" I said to her. "This is none of your business. I don't tell you how to run your life, so don't go trying to tell me how to run mine!"

Millie must have decided that her best move was to do as I requested, because she asked Mike if he wanted anything to eat after that. I assume it was her way of changing the subject.

Mike took the hint from Millie and for the next hour or so whilst he ate the steak Millie cooked for him, what conversation there was returned to mundane things. Mike left about eleven without mentioning Lindsey again. 

I spent that night alone in my bed. Whether Millie was annoyed with the way I had spoken to her, or she decided to leave me with my thoughts, I don't know. Whatever the following morning everyone behaved as if Mike had never stopped by, and his visit wasn't mentioned to me again. I can't be sure it wasn't discussed amongst the girls though. 

So the weeks rolled by, but before we prepared for another summer season at the pub, my twentieth birthday came along. It was just before Easter and the girls organised a bit of a party for me. Julia, Mike and one of my brothers turned up bearing gifts from the family. I tried to act as if a great void hadn't opened between us, but that "little pervert!" chide kept rising to the fore of my mind.

To be truthful, if they had any idea of what I was getting up to with the four women in that public house, they probably would have called me a pervert again. But that's really irrelevant, isn't it. That insult had hurt when I needed understanding and support. They had all appeared to take Lindsey's side, the moment they discovered that we or rather I had a problem with our relationship.

-----------------------------------------

After my birthday party Julia had taken to calling me on the telephone most Sunday mornings. I must assume that someone in the pub had told her that it was a good time to catch me whilst we had our breakfast. I couldn't use the excuse that I was busy in the cellar or anything to cut the call short.

Once the summer boating season got underway we got very busy in the pub again. The twins finished their studies, Patricia taking a full time job in an office in a nearby town and Michelle working full time in the pub with Bev, Millie and myself.

After a few calls Julia dropped the bit of gossip that Lindsey had moved back to town, into the same flat, as she still held the lease and she had managed to get her old job back. I told Julia that the information was of no interest to me whatsoever.

"You bloody fool, you're going to lose the best thing that ever happened to you in your life, if you're not careful," Julia chided me.

"Julia, what you think is the best thing that happened in my life and what I think is the best thing that's happened in my life are two entirely different things," I replied, looking around and smiling at the four women sat at the table with me. They all smiled back at my compliment, although they had no idea what Julia had said to me 

It wasn't very long after Pat started her job that she developed a boyfriend from her office. I had been getting together with both girls quite often up until that time. Um... well, let's put this in its proper perspective; both of the twins had been joining me in my room when they thought they could get away with it. But after Patricia found her boyfriend, she didn't visit me again. Although there were occasions when she'd snuggle up against me behind the bar and tell me she was missing my company.

"Damn it, Mack, John could do with some lessons from you on how to make a girl feel good," she'd whisper in my ear.

"I've been missing you as well, girl," I'd tell her.

But being truthful, I do believe it was only the slight damage to my ego that losing one of my harem had caused me that I was worried about. Don't get me wrong; I was very attached to all four women, but I was not in love with any of them. Our relationship was one of convenient partners to enjoy sex with, and that's all really.

Patricia although she had a full time job outside of the pub still helped out there most evenings and weekends when we were busy, that is when she wasn't out with John. Although he seemed quite happy to sit up at the bar and get in everyone's way most of the time.

"Damn it, Mack, I warned you, Lindsey's got some guy chasing after her and I think she's going to go out with him," Julia said on one her now regular calls.

"Good luck to the bugger, Julia. I hope he has better luck than I did." 

"What's that meant to mean? You hope he gets into her pants?"

"It could, or it could mean something completely different."

"I can't understand you, Mack, do you realise that. You know that girl's nuts about you."

"Yeah and Prince Charles was nuts about Diana."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dunno, Julia, I think they call it a metaphor or something."

"You're insane, Mack, you're going to lose her, you know!" 

"Bye, Julia! Thanks for calling." 

------------------------------------

Tasha, a German or maybe an Austrian girl -- I'm not sure which really - who'd married one of the guys from the village, helped out in the kitchen that second year, instead of the ever grumpy Marge.

Tasha was a little on the heavy side, but had a pair of Bristols on her that probably matched Millie's in dimensions. Only Millie's small frame accentuated the size of her boobs and made them look ginormous, as I've said before. 

Would I? Yeah, I probably would of, if Tasha hadn't been married, that is. She even hinted a couple of times that she was available if I was interested. But I had no intention of upsetting the apple cart by banging her though. That honour fell to one of the other local guys from the village and her hubby found out about it, so Tasha was to be on her way back to Germany - or Austria - soon after the following Christmas anyway.

----------------------------

"We met him last night. Lindsey came round with a birthday present for the baby and he drove her."

"So?"

"Well, he's very nice, taller and older than you though. Look, Mack, you're running out of time. At the moment it's all very platonic but he would like to get serious with Lindsey, it's obvious."

"Time ran out over a year ago, Julia. Why can't you let it rest?" But Julia wasn't listening to anything that I said.

"Look, Mack, he works at Lindsey's office. I get the feeling he's fancied her for some time and was possibly instrumental in her getting her job back. At the moment it's reasonably safe because he's waiting for his divorce to come through," Julia babbled on.

Suddenly it all fell into place in my mind. So that was what it was all about, I was Lindsey's cover. She'd been fucking this guy from the office who was married and little old me was the smoke screen. No wonder she was always dragging me off to have drinks with the girls and go to those damned parties they held. I can just imagine how the gossip went around the office. "What? Lindsey having an affair with a married man? Don't be silly! She's madly in love with Mack. You've seen how she's all over him all the time."

"Julia, I really don't give two monkeys who Lindsey goes out with, or who she shags anymore. Now thanks for calling, I've got to go. Goodbye." 

I do believe as we built up to that summer the pub was busier than the year before. But it might have been because we didn't have Patricia around full time after the college year ended and old Bert was showing signs of his age. When the old bugger did turn up -- which was most days really -- Beverley or I took to driving him home again in the evening. Or we'd con one of the regulars into doing it.

Julia's now regular weekly phone calls were becoming a bit of a pain in the arse for me. Yeah, I didn't mind hearing about the family and what had been going on, but she kept on dropping in little bits of information about Lindsey and Conway, this new bloke of hers. 

You know I really thought that my sister was falling for the slimy git as well, the way she went on about him so much. As if I would be interested in the bastard anyway.

I'd pretty well worked it out that all of the family were still in regular contact with Lindsey and that she was probably visiting with my parents and siblings on a regular basis. But then Julia really dropped the bombshell on me.

"My god, Mack, you'd never believe it, but we discovered last night that Conway and Brian (my eldest brother) know each other. They were best friends and classmates back at Brunel (read Brunel University just outside London)."

I probably answered something like, "That is of no interest to me, Julia." But over the next few weeks, I was to learn that Conway was becoming an integral part of my family whether I liked the idea or not. I did voice my concern that my ex-girlfriend's new man appeared to be replacing me in my family and possibly their affections.

"Don't talk silly, Mack. Yes, we see Conway when he's with Lindsey. But he's Brian's old uni friend and they've hooked up together again. Conway takes his children round to play with Brian's two when he has them at weekends. You know, keeping close ties with his children is quite a problem for poor Conway. His wife is being a real bitch about their divorce," Julia ranted on at me.

Did you catch that bit, "Poor bleeding Conway!" 

'Bloody hell what a con artist that Conway fucker must be?' was the thought that passed through my mind. 

Yeah and I could see it all, from the distance that I was looking at events. It became very clear to me what was going on and the true sequence of events. 

If Conway was at Brunel University with Brian, that would put him at least in his thirties and make him, over ten years older than Lindsey at least. Well, ten years at minimum I'd say. 

The whole damn scenario wrote itself out in my mind. The reader must understand though that this is all supposition, the likely scenario of events as I assumed it had happened, drawn from the circumstantial evidence that I had available at the time. This scenario had been slowly growing and changing in my mind ever since I'd first discovered those bloody birth control pills of Lindsey's in her flat that night. 

Lindsey finishes her education and by chance of circumstance was offered a damned good job in town through the kind auspices of one of her college lecturers, whose brother was one of the managers at the company. The lecturer spotted Lindsey's talent and informed his brother about her. 

This lecher Conway spots the pretty new eighteen-year-old employee probably as soon as she starts working for the firm. He seduces her and they start an ongoing passionate affair. But Conway is married, so they need to be careful and require some kind of cover to cloud the issue concerning their affair. 

Consequently Lindsey goes hunting for a prize mug to pretend to be in love with, and picks up muggin's here; then she cons me into thinking that she is crazy about me. I, like a complete dumb arse, fall head over heels in love with the bitch 

But Lindsey for all her protestations of love for me, won't let me bed her! Even heavy petting is a bloody no no most of the time. She fobs me off with the old, "I want to wait until we are married, it'll make it so special," line and, like the bloody clown that I am, I bought the tale hook line and bleeding sinker, for a long time. No, the honour of bedding Lindsey fell to only Conway! Shit, I must have been a prize fucking idiot not to see what was going on under my nose sooner than I did. 

Everything goes along very nicely for the two lovers until I figure out that something ain't quite kosher and drop out of the picture. 

For some reason - I don't know maybe, Lindsey had got a little more attached to me than she had intended to - she threw a wobbly; of course there was the chance that was an act as well, intended to keep everyone off the scent. I should imagine Conway must have consoled her a little too much, maybe a little too often or a little too closely, and Mrs Conway starts putting two and two together on her own account, much in the manner that I did. 

Yeah, I should imagine that Mrs Conway was going to be somewhat pissed when she discovered that her loving husband had been making whoopee with a woman over ten years her junior, for god knows how long, wasn't she?

So she's bound to get a little on the awkward side about Conway taking the children out. Especially if they are going to be in Lindsey's company. Must be really hard for a woman to see the man she loves -- or did love - trying to wheedle his new woman into her children's affections. Who'd blame her for being a pain where access to the children is concerned? I know that I wouldn't. 




Mack's Progress Ch. 04



But then I realised and what really topped the cake off - from my point of view - was that Lindsey and that fucking creep are playing my whole family for bloody fools as well, by pretending that they are only just getting involved with each other. Jesus, the more it went around in my head the more pissed off I got.

I quietly worked myself up into quite a frenzy about cheating partners. I can't quite figure why I never took it out on Millie though; after all if you think about it, Millie was cheating on Philip. It could be in my twisted and confused mind, I looked on Philip as depriving Mille of something he owed her. I'm damned sure that's how she saw the situation. 

True to her word, Mary did turn up again in the early summer, sans husband this time. And I'm afraid Mary was to take the brunt of my anger, although even that backfired on me. 

She was on a large motor cruiser with her sister, brother and four children as she said she would be in her Christmas card. They invited me aboard that first night, as I had the evening off. And Mary came back to my room later. 

Mary had come to get fucked, so that's what she got. Maybe more that she was expecting really. I'd never sampled anal sex. I was angry so I figured Mary was the perfect woman to try it out with. She appeared reluctant to start with, but in the end she allowed me to have my way, providing that I promised to be gentle. I didn't have much choice really; I had no experience with anal sex and no idea how to set about it. It must have taken half an hour before we realised that she needed to be prepared first. By then Mary seemed to have gotten right into the idea, or experiment, and she did most of the preparations. 

The lubricant we used was some stuff that Millie had got, for when I titty fucked her. Millie seemed to get a real kick out of me doing that and often asked that we do it. She used to like to lie on her back holding those enormous globes together whilst I sat astride her and did the business. Millie would hold her mouth open and challenge me to shoot my sperm straight in there. The whole operation she euphemised as target practice.

Anyway back to Mary. At first I thought she didn't enjoy the experience. To be honest all that pissing about beforehand getting her ready kind of took the edge off the experience for me. That and the fact that a shower was required to clean up afterwards; so I wasn't so sure that it was worth all the bother really.

"Alright I suppose, it hurt a little at first and was nothing to write home about," Mary said when I asked her how she felt about it afterwards.

It was with some surprise that I received the request from Mary the following evening that we do it again. I'm quite sure that she was really getting into it by then, but I still couldn't see that all the agro was worth it. We did it both nights the following week when she passed through again. Personally I thought a really good deep throat blowjob like Millie and Beverley could give was a much better experience.

I didn't request that any of other the other girls try anal sex. It didn't seem worth all the hassle to me. But I was pretty sure Millie dropped some hints that could have led to anal sex on a couple of occasions after that first time that I did it with Mary

I think it must have been a week or two after Mary had gone home that I made my discovery about the other voyeurs in the pub, and possibly why Millie had hinted about trying anal sex. We were just finishing breakfast one morning when Millie picked up the step stool from the kitchen and a replacement light bulb from the cupboard.

"What are you doing with the stool, Millie?" Beverley asked her.

"The bulb blew in my room last night," Millie replied, heading for the door.

"No, hold on!" Bev said then turned to me. "Mack, you'd better go change that bulb for her. She can hardly reach the light even when she's on that damned stool. Can't have her falling and hurting herself at this time of year."

"I'd only bounce on these things anyway." Millie commented in her usual ribald fashion, but still handing me the stool and replacement bulb.

It was as I was climbing down off of the stool that I noticed the three wineglasses in the fireplace and an empty bottle in the bin near by. There were also three cushions on the floor by the fireplace.

Okay, you can imagine the tableau of three people sitting in front of the fire sharing a bottle of wine and having a quiet chat. Like fuck! In this case that scenario definitely didn't hold water. The pub had oil-fired central heating; the only two fires that were ever lit were the two in the big bar and that was only for effect, on cold winter nights. So I was thinking to myself why would Millie and the twins be sat by the draughty fireplace in her room.

And then it struck me. The fireplace was in the corner of the room, one wall of that corner was a party wall with Beverley's room next door and the fireplace in Beverley's room was also in that same corner. So the obvious conclusion was, that the fireplace in Millie's room shared the same chimney as Beverley's and the fireplace in my room down below.

Now Beverley and I had been doing our thing in my room most of the night and it was clearly apparent to me that Millie and the twins had sat by the fireplace, drinking wine and listening to our antics. Probably before they had themselves a little private orgy of their own.

Was I annoyed? I suppose I might have been, if I hadn't had the memory of watching those girls get it on together at Christmas. That had had a surprising effect on me and I very much suspected that Beverley was going to reap the rewards of my discovery, the next time we got together. Because I'd have the extra kick of thinking about what the girls were doing upstairs in Millie's room. More about the chimney later, and I could have kicked myself for not thinking about it before.

End of Chapter 4 



Mack's Progress Ch. 05



"Look, Mack, I thought I'd better warn you as soon as I heard. Brian and Conway are planning on taking the children on a couple of weeks' holiday on the Broads. You can't complain; it's your fault they are going up there anyway. They never would have thought of it if you weren't working in that boating pub," Julia informed me one Sunday morning.

'Oh, yeah, how come it's my fault?' I asked myself when the call was over.

------------------------

Patricia or really her fella John gave us all a nasty shock in early June. The silly little sod smashed his car up with both of them in it. Luckily they weren't too badly hurt and were only hospitalised for a couple or three days. But it really frightened Beverley. It wasn't often that Bev spent three nights on the trot in my bed, and that without any sex between us. She just wanted to lie there in bed and cuddle. Which I was happy to do for her!

Okay, Millie gave me enthusiastic blowjobs in the cellar everyday and I managed to fit in a quick one with Michelle or Millie sometime during the afternoon, whilst Bev and the other of them visited Patricia in hospital. What you'd call a short sharp shot, because we were busy and we only had Tasha to watch the shop whilst we were at it. Actually those quickies became a bit of a habit after that. I even shagged Bev over the kitchen table a couple of times. I'm not sure, I think the girls got off on the idea that we could be walked in on.

-------------------------

"Mike's decided he'd like to go as well, so we are going to hire two boats, cruisers Mike calls them. Should we wear life jackets, Mack? What about the baby? Do they do life jackets for babies?" was the news I was greeted with in another of Julia's weekly calls, just after Patricia came out of hospital, I do believe.

"You'll have to speak to the boat hire people, Julia; I have nothing to do with hiring boats. Some people, children mostly, wear life jackets. The water isn't all that deep really; I think those who do wear them are people who can't swim," I replied. 

I wanted nothing to do with their bloody boating holiday if Conway was involved. But my sister had asked a civil question and I'd answered her.

I'm human so I did wonder - but didn't ask - whether Lindsey was planning on joining her so called 'new man' on this holiday. I could just imagine the bitch turning up with him at the pub, to rub my nose in it. I voiced my thoughts to the girls. Beverley, Patricia and Michelle made comments in a similar vein. Millie remained strangely silent on the issue.

--------------------------

As the summer was building to its crescendo (i.e. high season when all the schools are closed), word came from the villagers first that Philip's grandmother had a stroke. That news put Millie in a really good mood for a few days, until she saw Philip and he told her that it didn't look like it was going to be terminal. However, in those few days Millie did her best to kill me every night. 

Because - as she put -- "Once Phil and I get married I'm going to miss this dick of yours. You realise that once Phil starts fucking me you ain't getting no more from me, don't you? Anyway I'd better make the most of you whilst I can."

The news that Philip's gran wasn't about to pop her clogs meant Millie needed consoling in the same way as Beverley had when Patricia had her accident. Only Millie's idea on being consoled was to have her snatch chewed on for most of the night. 'Jesus, Millie,' I thought, 'if Phil isn't a quick learner, you are going to be in for a disappointing married sex life.'

"We'll all be stopping by for a couple of nights in August. I hope you're not going to be funny about Lindsey being with us, Mack, and throw a tantrum or anything," Julia informed me.

"Damn it, Julia, I think that's damned inconsiderate of you all. You know my feelings about Lindsey. Why the hell do you have to stop here at all? There's plenty of other pub moorings you could use."

"Mack, Brian and I want to see our brother. Brian and his family haven't seen you since before you left home. You might have a problem with Lindsey and Conway being there, but that's your fault for not coming home to see the family, isn't it? Anyway, I'm sure Conway will stay out of your way, but I think Lindsey would like to talk to you to clear the air."

"Well, I don't need the air cleared, Julia. I think I've got a better idea of what's been going on than you, Brian, Mike or mum and dad will ever know. When are Lindsey and the arsehole getting married anyway?"

'Shit, damn, blast!' I thought to myself. I really hadn't intended to ask that. I was sure in my own mind that they would get hitched. I just wondered how long they were going to keep the bloody pretence up.

"Don't call Conway names, Mack! He's done nothing to you. He's a nice guy and he's treating Lindsey a damned sight more pleasantly that you ever did. If you must know they aren't even dating officially. I think Conway takes Lindsey to lunch from work quite often and it's obvious that he's got a thing for her. He runs her around in his car and takes her over to Brian's place when he takes his children there. Lindsey is coming along as Conway's guest to help look after his children. They seem to like her."

"You've seen them together then?" 'What the hell did I ask that for?' I was thinking the moment the words were out of my mouth.

"Of course, Brian's had a little pool put in and in this hot weather, Mike and I have been going over there on the weekend with the children as well. That's when they all planned this boating holiday idea. But I'm a little worried about the children and all that water."

'Little pool,' I thought. 'That doesn't sound like my brother, Brian. Olympic size pool is more his cup of tea.' But then that modern house of his only has a tiny garden. 

"Don't worry about the water, Julia. You have to be careful and use some common sense naturally. But we don't have that many serious accidents with children. It's more the drunk adults making their way back to the boats in the dark and tripping over mooring lines," I placated her. 

I don't know why, but Julia worrying about the children and the water took the edge off the anger I'd felt a few moments before. I completely put Lindsey, and her lover coming by, to the back of my mind.

-------------------------

The August Bank holiday was on us almost before I realised. Luckily for just about everyone concerned, my family party didn't turn up over the holiday weekend itself. I think I might have told Julia that I would be too busy to even speak to them during the three days.

It was the Wednesday when Patricia had been down by the river hunting for abandoned glasses with John. Both of them had taken a week's holiday from work to help out, and John was proving to be a nice guy, now he'd tamed down his driving a little. Patricia came into the bar and told me that she thought that it was Mike and Julia who were tying up a medium size craft to the bank. 

I looked out of the window to see a gigantic cruiser, probably one of the biggest available for hire on the Broads, manoeuvring to moor behind Mike and Julia's boat. That had to be Brian; he always had to have the biggest and best of everything. On the foredeck - with a rope that he was trying to throw to Mike - I could see a tall slim man who I took to be Conway. I consoled myself in the fact that he had no idea how to throw a rope and it landed short, in the water several times.

Eventually after that great cruiser had virtually rammed the bank and the clown had been able to hand Mike the rope they got the thing moored. Although I'll point out that Stephanie (Brian's wife) made a far better job of throwing the stern line to Julia. 

Four children of around eight or ten were then allowed to climb off of the big cruiser and were ushered through the pub's safety fence. During the school holidays, we put up a safety fence to separate the pub's garden from the river. It didn't look very nice, that's why we only used it when the children were off school. But it let the parents of the little ones relax more than they would be able to if they had to watch the children and the river all the time. 

Two of the children were Brian's. I recognised them straight away. They went to run up toward the pub, but Stephanie called them back. Julia and Mike had gotten their two little ones from their cruiser and then they joined the children behind the safety fence where they staked claim to a couple of the picnic benches.

"Are you going down to speak to them?" Michelle, I think, asked.

"No, not whilst the arsehole's with them. They can find me when they want to."

"Where's Lindsey?" one of the girls asked; I don't know which one now, since I wasn't listening properly.

"Still on the big cruiser I should imagine," I believe I replied. I was not really concentrating on what I was saying or on what was being said to me.

Brian, Mike, him, Julia and Stephanie fell into conversation, probably about what drinks everyone wanted. Then Brian and Mike started walking towards the pub. Conway went to follow and Julia said something to him. He faltered, looked back at Julia who had stood up again after taking a seat on the bench. They exchanged a few words, then Conway turned back towards the pub.

For a few moments I thought a confrontation of some kind was in the offing, but suddenly I saw Beverley and Millie walking out to meet Brian and Mike from the other garden door. They fell into conversation and I assume the girls took Brian's order. It would be Brian who was buying the first round, that was just Brian.

When Conway joined them I could see him looking in the pub's direction as they gave their order to Beverley. Then after lots of smiles and head gestures the three men began to walk back to the tables that Stephanie and Julia were laying claim to. Conway seemed to falter again looking back at the pub before he followed the others, looking back several times before they got to the tables.

"Arsehole!" Millie said, when she came behind the bar to pull the drinks that Brian had ordered. 

"Who?" I asked, not being sure that Millie wasn't referring to Brian, who can come over as all high and mighty sometimes, if you don't know him. He's top dog at the company where he works and tends to forget that he's not talking to his subordinates sometimes.

"That streak of shit that Lindsey's got herself hooked up with," Millie ranted. "He made disparaging remarks about my tits." 

Now this was a great surprise. Just about every customer makes some comment about Millie's assets at some time. Well, no one could fail to notice them if you know what I mean. But Millie was always the first to make a joke about them. "Hey, look, Luvver, better men than you have suffocated in here," being her usual putdown.

"Why? What did he say?" I found myself asking.

"He said, 'I see what the great attraction here is for lover boy. Got a weakness for big tits, has he, the little pervert!' The shit said it, after the others had moved away, so I don't think they 'eard him," Millie explained.

"Heard what?" Beverley, who had been at the other end of the bar, asked.

Millie explained and in an instant Beverley was disappearing out into the garden. I'd seen that look before, and I knew that trouble was in store.

"Christ, I hope she doesn't tell them all to move on. When mum gets pissed she just unties their boats and tells them to get gone!" Michelle said, "I'd better go down and try to calm her down a bit. You do want to see your family, don't you, Mack?"

"Yeah, but I could do without seeing that tosser and Lindsey though."

I don't think Michelle heard me. She was almost running, trying to catch up with Beverley. Mille went to take someone else's order and I watched through the window as Beverley went straight up to Conway, who by her body language alone I could tell got a real dressing down. I'm damn sure that the guy, who had stood up as Beverley approached, actually shrank before my eyes. 

But suddenly I found my attention was taken elsewhere. Lindsey had appeared on the deck of the big cabin cruiser that was behind them. I could see that she could hear what Bev was saying as she climbed down off of the boat. Lindsey looked at Beverley chastising her man and just stood with her mouth wide open. God knows what Beverley said to him but whatever it was it made them all take notice. Then Bev turned and came back to the pub.

"I'm not having that from anyone," she announced as she came back into the bar. "If it wasn't for the fact that he's with your family, Mack, I'd have told them all to move on. As it is, I've told them that he's not allowed in my pub under any circumstances. If they decide to move on, then I'm sorry."

I looked at Beverley, as much confused about her reaction as I had been about Millie's. Jesus, there was all kinds of innuendo flying around in that pub all the time, what with me being the only man living there. Beverley must have seen the confusion in my face.

"There's fun and there's insults, Mack! That long streak of nothing wasn't joking with Millie; he was insulting both of you. You're my staff and my family whilst you're here. I'll not stand for that sort of thing and that's the end of it," Beverley said, then switched back to friendly mother mode and continued pulling pints.

Sometime later Julia, Brian and Stephanie came into the bar to talk to me. I was quite busy, actually trying to look busier than I really was. But I stopped to sit and talk for a while.

"What was all that about?" Julia asked, "Bev went ape-shit at Conway when we arrived."

"I do believe he threw an insult in Millie's direction. You'll have to ask him what he said," I replied.

"He says he doesn't know, that it was probably you trying to chase him away," Julia informed me.

"Well, I had nothing to do with it. After Bev and Millie took your order Brian, apparently Conway said something to Millie. It's not very often that Millie gets upset, but when she came back in here she was really throwing her toys out of the pram. I think Conway was lucky she never had any beer in her hand when he said it. I've only seen Millie get annoyed like that with a couple of blokes, both of them got a beer shower and one took an unexpected bath as well."

"Feisty little one, is she?" Brian asked.

"Tough as shit as well, Brian. That girl can swing a full beer barrel around like it doesn't weigh a thing." 

After that, besides Brian telling me that Conway had been barred from entering the pub itself, the conversation turned to family matters. Brian and Stephanie's two children came in the bar to say hello to me and have a cuddle. I handed out soft drinks and packets of crisps to them and then added a second helping because Conway's two children had followed them and had very tentatively sneaked in the bar as well. Don't hold the sins of the father against the children and all that, is my motto.

Tasha came over and told Julia, Brian and Stephanie that their meals were nearly ready, so the three of them went back down to their tables in the garden, taking the children with them. All four children were to return at regular intervals for their free crisps and squashes later during the day. Can I help it if I'm a softy at heart? Actually I think that all four children had joined my fan club.

"Strange thing that kid said!" Old Bert said to me at the bar a little after they had gone the first time.

"Yeah, what was that Bert?" I asked, not really listening to what he was saying.

"One of those kids, the boy, asked the girl if you were Lynn's boyfriend," Bert said.

"Naw, you got it wrong, Bert. He obviously asked her if I was Lindsey's ex-boyfriend, which I was at one time." 

"No, lad that ain't what the boy said! I know, I 'eard him! I might be old, but I ain't deaf, lad. He asked the girl if you were the bloke who - and 'e definitely said Lynn - was going to marry. The girl told 'im that you was! But then the boy asked why they had never seen you with this Lynn and the girl says that she don't understand grown-ups either, and that she couldn't figure out why their dad wasn't living at home with their mother and them."

"Ah, the kids probably got it all arse about face, Bert. You know what kids are like," I said to him.

"Dunna 'bout that, Lad. That girl sounded pretty adamant to me."

"Okay, Bert have it your way, but I think either you or she got it very wrong." 

Bert and I had a little laugh and then I think we both forgot about the incident, for the moment anyway.

----------------------------

During the afternoon Brian came in the bar and asked where the nearest shop or supermarket was. I told him the village shop was about a mile and a half by road or three quarters of a mile along the river, but the nearest big supermarket was eight miles the other way once you reached the main road. He indicated that he really needed a big supermarket; I think they must have been moored near the village shop the evening before.

I threw him my car keys and he said thanks before asking for directions. A little later John, Patricia's fella, told me he'd seen Brian, Conway, Julia and Mike driving off in my car. I expressed surprise that Mike and Julia hadn't had their children with them, only to be informed by Michelle that Lindsey was on their boat probably baby sitting. It didn't strike me at the time that my familly's party were being closely watched by all of my new family. They must have been because I got reports every so often on every move they made.

"Be a good time to nip down and visit, Mack," Beverley said, "whilst it's a little quiet, he isn't there and Lindsey's tied up with the babies."

It wasn't really quiet as far as customers were concerned, but we had enough staff on, to handle things. Beverley was suggesting that I spend some time with Stephanie and Julia in the garden, kind of not make it look like I was neglecting or avoiding them. 

So I filled some glasses. I knew what both women's tipple was; for shows sake I even took a drink along for Lindsey, only I hoped she wasn't going to come off the boat and join us and, of course, more squash and crisps for the children. Then I went down to sit and talk to the girls for a while.

Julia greeted me with a hug once I'd put the tray down. Stephanie, spotting the cocktail umbrella in Lindsey's drink, took it over to Julia's boat. 

"Lindsey said to thank you; she's changing the little one and Sam's asleep so she can't come over," Stephanie said on her return. 

I think both girls could see the relief in my face but they didn't make comment. Actually I wondered if the story was really true. That's something I will never know.

I was still sitting talking to the girls when Brian and the rest of them came back. Brian thanked me for the use of my car and I noted that Conway made a beeline for Julia and Mike's boat, after giving his two children what I can only call a dirty look. They and Brian's two were sitting on the grass flanking me. I do believe this new uncle Mack could do no wrong in their eyes.

Later that evening Julia, Mike, Brian and Stephanie came into the bar and stayed in there all evening. Lindsey and Conway must have been assigned baby and child sitting duties on one of the boats. Although Mike and Brian took drinks down to them at regular intervals, Brian commented that he was pleased he'd ordered a boat with a television on it, or the children would have been having withdrawal symptoms by then and driving every one bonkers. I gathered from the conversation that's why the party was split over two boats, so that the childrens' TV wouldn't wake the babies. 

"And the accommodation problem!" Julia suddenly added quite forcefully. 

I couldn't understand that statement from her, because those big cruisers could accommodate 14 adults quite comfortably, providing everyone was reasonably friendly. Jesus, we'd seen more than that crowded onto some of them. 




Mack's Progress Ch. 05



I spent some of the evening chatting with them and some working. Later on we had a darts match. Locals, against my family members, which was quite fun. I have no idea who won because there was some very questionable scoring going on. For those who are unaware there is a standard dartboard and what I think is referred to, as a London board. Scoring apparently is different for the two boards. Both sides were scoring as if they were playing on the boards they normally played on. Whatever, there was a lot of fun for everyone involved.

Millie slept with me that night and for some inexplicable reason, the sex between us was a little restrained, by Millie's normal standards.

Thursday morning quite early Michelle and I were performing the usual glass search. We had the assistance of four enthusiastic helpers. The children must have searched the riverbank and the shallower parts of its bed for a hundred or so yards either side of the pub and turned up some glasses that had obviously been abandoned many years ago. Some Beverley decided to scrap rather than try to recover for use. She gave all four children a reward for their efforts though.

The children also very cheekily, and without asking permission, joined Millie and me in the cellar to watch the ritual cleaning of the pipes. In doing so they prevented Millie from cleaning my pipe as was her habit. I don't think the children had any idea what Millie and I found so funny - well, I hope they didn't! You know by now what Millie's mouth was like, and she was throwing some ribald innuendo about.

Around ten Brian came into the pub and told me that they were all going on the smaller craft to visit part of the waterways where his large cruiser couldn't navigate. He asked me if there was some way that we could reserve the mooring, but I told him it wasn't really required as they could double moor the small boat on the larger one when they returned, if necessary. So my family sailed off for the rest of the day on Julia and Mike's hire cruiser.

That evening when they returned the pub was unusually quiet, just one of those things that can happen even in the busiest part of the season. Once again they ensconced themselves in the garden near the river and ordered dinner for everyone from our kitchen.

I suppose it was about seven thirty. I was leaning on the bar with Millie beside me when completely unexpectedly Lindsey walked into the bar from the garden. Beverley, Michelle and Patricia were all sitting on the bar stools; we had been discussing the unexpected shortage of customers, I believe.

Anyway Lindsey walked in the garden door and stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes met mine and Beverley, Michelle and Pat turned on their stools to look where I was staring to see what had attracted my attention. 

Lindsey's eyes held my gaze for a while and then I saw them move first to Millie's famous appendages. Then she looked up into Millie's eyes, then Lindsey's gaze shifted first to Michelle, before passing on to Patricia's and then Beverley. She must have locked eyes with all of the girls.

What can you tell by looking into someone's eyes? I know full well that Lindsey immediately knew that I had bedded all four women. Her eyes met all of theirs again, as she slowly brought them back to stare into mine. For a moment longer she stood there unmoving, before bursting into tears, then turning and running out of the pub.

"Oh, shit!" Beverley exclaimed, breaking the silence, but she didn't enlarge further. I knew that Beverley had had the same realisation that I had.

A little later Julia appeared in the bar, her facial expression telling me that she was angry and that she wanted a word in private.

"What the fuck did you say to Lindsey?" Julia demanded when we got out into the car park. Oh, Julia doesn't normally swear, so I gathered that she was extremely angry.

"I didn't say one word to Lindsey, honestly, Julia. She walked into the bar, looked at me for a few seconds and then ran out again."

"Nothing?"

"Not a bleeding word; never got the chance!" I assured her. Although I didn't tell Julia of what I suspected that Lindsey had correctly assumed. 

"You must have said something. Didn't you even say hello?"

"Julia, I didn't have time. I looked up and suddenly Lindsey was standing in the doorway. She stared at the girls and me for a couple of seconds and then she ran out again. No one got the chance to say hello or anything. You know how I feel about Lindsey, but Beverley, Millie and the girls have got nothing against her. Come on, you know Millie. You ask her. She'll tell you none of us had time to say anything to Lindsey; she just wasn't in there long enough."

"Damn, what's got into her?"

"Look, Julia, not that I think it will do any good, but if you want I'll go down to the boat and talk to her!"

"No, Mack, I don't think that's a good idea at all. Lynn has locked herself in one of the cabins and she says she doesn't want to talk to anyone. Especially you. I asked if I should get you to go down there."

It was only later that I noted that Julia had used the name Lynn again. I'd wanted to call Lindsey Lynn but she'd objected very strongly. She'd always insisted that people call her Lindsey.

-------------------------

Michelle slept with me that night.

"What are you going to do, Mack?" she asked, at some unearthly hour, after we'd worn ourselves out and had stopped for a while to recuperate.

"About what?"

"Lindsey! She's in love with you, you know."

"Bollocks, she's shagging Conway, and has been for years."

"What makes you say that? I haven't seen her show any affection towards him. Yeah, I'd say he fancies her. But, oh... you know what I mean."

"Chellie (my pet name for Michelle stolen from Patricia), they are a pretty cute couple when it comes to hiding it. Christ, they've been working together for years and managed to keep it hidden from everyone there. Once that arsehole's divorce comes through, they will be all over each other, take my word on it." 

"Well, if that's the case, why was Lindsey so upset when she realised that you were...? Oh, you know what I mean."

"Well, let's see. Lindsey thought that she had me wrapped around her little finger. I'll admit for a time there, I worshipped the ground the woman walked on. But then I discovered that she was taking the piss out of me. It could be that she's finally realised that she no longer can throw her spell over me, or pull the wool over my eyes even if she can the rest of my family." "Oh, so what happens now?"

"I think that I'll try to fuck you to death, to get my revenge on women in general. How does that sound?"

"Some hopes," Michelle replied.

------------------

The next morning I was just getting out of the shower when I heard the local taxi driver talking to Michelle in the kitchen. He was asking for a Miss Gateland who had apparently ordered a taxi to take her to Norwich station.

"That's Lindsey," I informed Michelle by sticking my head around the kitchen door still wrapped in my towel.

"Oh, Crikes!" Michelle exclaimed and then led the taxi driver outside to point out what boat Lindsey was on to him.

"What do you think gives?" she asked me after strolling into my flat, on her eventual return.

"Buggered if I know," was all I could offer as a reply.

"She's left and gone home by the looks of things," Michelle offered. "Had her bag packed ready and everything."

"She's a free agent, Michelle; perhaps she didn't like hanging around here because I was here."

"Something's not right there, you know, Mack. I'd say that girl is really hooked on you."

"Then why was she shagging Conway?"

"Who says she was? I didn't see them all over each other!"

"And nobody who comes in this pub sees you and me all over each other, or Millie, or your mother either come to that. But you know as well as I do what goes on in this flat!"

"Mack, you always have been too quick to jump to conclusions, you know. Is there any possibility that you've read Lindsey all wrong? After all, you were wrong about that soldier bloke, weren't you?"

"Michelle, I know things about Lindsey that I've never talked to you or anyone else about. Take it from me what you see ain't what you get with that woman. I don't know, perhaps she's a control freak or something. She played me like a bloody harp when we were together and when I twigged that something weren't kosher she didn't like it. I have no idea why she's gone home, perhaps she only came here thinking that I'd fall at her feet again, and she's pissed off because I didn't!"

There was a pretty subdued atmosphere when my family was about that morning. Julia came to tell me that Lindsey had gone home. But I was able to tell her about the taxi driver and that I already knew. They hung around for a few hours and then cast off and went to explore some other part off the Broads.

Millie later informed me what Julia had told her that, after they thought Lindsey had safely locked herself in one of the cabins, they had returned to the garden and left her in peace. But when Stephanie had gone back on board later to check on the children and Lindsey, she found that she'd disappeared. They were just about to panic and send out a search party when Lindsey had come walking along the riverbank from the direction of the village. She informed them that she was going home the following morning and had been to the village to book a taxi.

----------------------------

My family stopped for one night the next week on their way back to the boatyard to return their cruisers. I didn't see Conway at all, but I saw his children. All four youngsters hung around me as much as they could get away with. 

I helped them with their lines the following morning when they left again. Conway was on the deck of Brian's big cruiser and I threw the bow mooring line to him. If looks could kill, the one he gave me would have put me in my grave.

----------------------

Within a couple of days, life at the pub had returned to normal as far as I was concerned. Patricia and John were getting more and more into each other so it was no surprise to anyone that on Patricia's nineteenth birthday, John produced a ring and asked her to marry him. The wedding date was set for the following spring, exactly one year from their first date.

"They haven't known each other that long," I said to Beverley in a quiet moment.

"At least she's made her mind up quickly, Mack. Christ, how my life would have been different if I'd known what I wanted when I first saw it. I was a silly bitch and thought that something better might come along. The only thing that did was my two girls."

"And this pub, Bev. You're nicely set up here, aren't you?"

"The trouble with a pub, Mack, is it's your life. I have to live and breathe this place every bloody day, whether I feel like it or not. I won't say that I don't enjoy my life, but sometimes I see Polly and wonder if I would have done better if I'd got in there first." 

I had no idea who Polly was at the time and there was something about the way Beverley was talking that prevented me asking.

-----------------------

Two things happened that September that were going to make further changes to my life. The first was Philip's grandmother having another stroke. She remained in hospital after that one and was never to come out again. But the "Old Witch" as Millie called her, hung on until the early part of December. And the second was that I discovered who Polly was.

It was less than a week after Phil's gran had her stroke that Mrs Plod, George wife's passed away. Word went around that she'd had a heart attack during the night and had just not woken up one morning. Poor old George found her dead beside him when he woke up. He was on compassionate leave for a long time and we had a replacement bobby for a while. Everyone at the pub except me -- I wasn't a proper local and I'd never said two words to the woman -- went to her funeral out of respect for one of the village main stays. You know Mothers Union and all the church and village committees, you say it and apparently Mrs Plod, or to use George's real name Mrs Polly Gummer, was involved with just about everything.

Her death brought about a change in Beverley that I think took all of us by surprise. Beverley suddenly took an interest in those same committees that Mrs Plod had so recently vacated. When things went quiet for the off season in the pub, all sorts of committees started holding meetings in the corner of the big bar. "So much warmer than the village hall in the winter" appeared to be the standard justification for these moves. There was, of course, the further point that Beverley had been seconded onto these committees but no one ever mentioned that or why she hadn't been on them when Mrs Plod was alive. 

After a month or so George returned to duty. By December when Philip's gran finally popped her clogs, George's patrol route had seemed to change. It now called for at least two calls on the pub to check everything was all right most days of the week when he was on duty. And he became a regular customer when he was off duty. It appeared that when Beverley wasn't talking to her committee members she was chatting quietly -- mostly laughing - with George.

And I might add, if George had paid a visit late in the evening, Beverley was in my flat before the other two got a chance of a look in.

Millie and Philip got married in early January. Millie had nearly killed me in the week before the wedding. "Damn it, if that bugger ain't as good as you, I could be back!" Millie commented more than once.

"Forget it, Millie. Once you've tied the knot with Philip then there's no excuse for you climbing in bed with me."

"Spoil sport!" was her only reply.

--------------------------------

Julia was still calling me most weekends, often by then from my parents' house so I could have a few words with them as well. But mother and father would often drop the name Lynn into the conversation and that would normally bring further communication to a sudden halt.

Actually, that Lynn bit was really getting to me. Lindsey had always been so adamant about her correct name being used. I think I settled the anomaly in my own mind with the conclusion that Conway must be calling her Lynn and the others had picked up on using it. 

Julia would still mention Conway now and again. Sometimes she'd slip-up and mention Lindsey or as everybody appeared to be calling her Lynn as well, but not very often.

------------------------

Millie's wedding to Philip was a village event. It's not often we closed the pub but we had to as we were all at the village hall for the reception. Actually you could say we didn't close the pub we just moved it to the village hall for the night because Millie and Phillip used Beverley's licence to sell the alcohol later. Look, just about everyone in the village was there. Plus maybe three or four hundred people from the farms from miles around. Phil's family might have had money but not that kind of money.

Millie, after she came back from her honeymoon, still worked in the pub. Only she was going home in the evenings and she wasn't working full time.

"Not as good as you, luvver! But I'm getting him trained up all right. Anyway if you fancy a quickie anytime I'm always game, you know?" Millie whispered in my ear as she gave me a hug on her first shift back.

"Millie, you're a married woman now. Behave yourself!" I replied with a grin. 

Then Millie and the twins disappeared into the kitchen from where peals of laughter were heard emanating for the next hour or so. I might well have worked the shift on my own for all I saw of any of them, including Beverley, that day. 

"Someone's missing you!" Beverley commented on one occasion when she came out of the kitchen to grab yet another bottle of wine.

------------------------

The next change kind of fell from the sky. It was on a Sunday lunchtime in February. During the off-season, our only really busy times -- and that is a relative statement -- were Friday and Saturday evenings and Sunday lunchtimes. Since Beverley had suddenly become a member of all those committees Sunday lunchtime had become busier than ever (off-season). 

Anyway it was one of those statements that every body unexpectedly hears in a crowded pub. You know there's that inexplicable moment of silence and someone says something that everybody in the place clearly hears. In this case it was George's daughter, Jean, who was at the pub with her husband and children. Whether she made the statement as loud as she did with the intention of everybody hearing, I don't know. But half the village heard it quite clearly and then things got complicated, for Beverley and George anyway.

"Why the hell he don't stop pissing around, and ask her to marry him I can't bleeding-well understand!" Jean almost shouted to Millie - who being off shift - was sitting with Philip at the same table.

You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife, as everyone in the place looked at George and Beverley who had been in conversation over the bar. The two of them looked around the pub at everyone in there, who in turn were all grinning at them.

"Well, dad, are you going to ask her or not? Christ, it's like living in a bloody soap opera round here lately," Jean yelled.

George and Beverley had both turned bright red and were obviously lost for words. But George's daughter wasn't giving up. She strode across the bar until she was stood beside her very embarrassed looking father.

"Dad, there ain't a soul in this pub that don't know that you have been in love with Beverley since forever. Mum's gone now and we are all waiting for you two to get hitched, so damn well get on with it and ask Beverley before she gets fed up with waiting and marries some other silly old sod." 

"You shouldn't speak to your father like that Jean!" Beverley began to say. I could see her 'high horse' attitude beginning to surface.

"Be quiet please, Beverley; I'm trying to help you out here. Anyway at the moment I can speak to my dad how I like, and you can't say nothing about it. Once the bugger sticks a ring on your finger, I'll start calling you mother and then you can tell me what to say and not say. Well, dad, are you going to ask her or have Tony and me got to put up with you looking mopey around the house forever." 

George really did look like a deer caught in a car's headlights. But it was Beverley who gave up the charade first.

"Well, George, are you going to ask me?" she said.

But George was a little more fly than any of us imagined. "Don't I remember that I did ask you once out by the old windmill? You know you never did give me an answer, Bev."

"Bugger, you're right, I didn't, did I?" Beverley said with a smile on her face. Then she stood there looking at George."

"Well?" Jean demanded.

"If you still want me George?" Beverley said very quietly.

"Damn, it's about time!" Jean shouted. "Where's the bloody vicar? We got a proper job for him to do. You got any champers behind there, Mack?"

---------------------------

The following day, George had gone home. (Where do you think he slept?) Only he didn't get much sleep, I can assure you of that and neither did I nor Michelle. That damned chimney again. I had to stuff the thing up with some insulation that one of the guys from the boatyard got for me, in the end. George and Beverley were not only very vocal whilst making love. They also did a lot of reminiscing, but I'm not going into what we heard here.

Oh, you might have noticed that I said "making love" and not shagging like a pair of bunny rabbits. Well, that was what the lovers did; they made love to each other, and it bore no relation to what Beverley and I had been doing for the previous god knows how long. 




Mack's Progress Ch. 05



Anyway after George had gone home, I went into the kitchen just as Beverley was putting the telephone down.

"Next Monday you start a five day course!" Beverley told me as if I had any idea of what she was talking about.

I must have stood there like a dummy staring back at her.

"When George and I go on honeymoon, you'll need a publicans licence to run the place whilst I'm not here. Millie's got one, but she's married and not living here anymore, so I can't leave her in charge, and Michelle's a bit young. It'll stand you in good stead if you ever want to run your own pub!" Beverley added as if to settle the matter.

"You're the boss, Bev. Did you have a good night?"

Beverley smiled, "Brought back some old memories, Mack. You know when you're young, it's very easy to misunderstand some things, and make the wrong decisions. I think you wouldn't do yourself any harm if you sort out Lindsey and clear the air with her. You never have had it out with her, have you?"

"You can say that again!" I said as I left the room. I've always wondered if Beverley saw the double meaning in my statement.

----------------

Two weeks later I was a licensed publican, albeit without a pub of my own. But I had all the relevant paperwork. Another two weeks after that, Beverley and George were married by our adulterous vicar and we had one bloody great party at the pub. Julia and Mike had somehow been invited. I discovered later that they were representing my mother and father, who Beverley had been in regular correspondence with. 

The following morning Beverley and George were collected by launch from the pub garden to start their honeymoon. We know not where they went; because Beverley didn't have a passport -- she'd never taken enough time off from the pub to actually go abroad -- we knew they must be still in the country but their location was kept secret from everyone.

"Hi, Govna, what's it like to be the boss?" Millie asked when she came in to help with the lunchtime shift that Sunday afternoon.

"No different, I can't see that I needed to take that bloody course. You're here enough hours to have stood in for Beverley," I commented.

"Naw, Luvver, not a good idea at the minute. Phil and me's trying to have a baby. I'm liable to get a bit cranky now and again. Wouldn't do to have me brain one of the customers now, would it?"

I must admit I had no idea what Millie was talking about. What has trying to get pregnant got to do with losing her temper with the customers? Didn't make much sense to me but I was too busy to argue the point so I let it slide and forgot about it.

It was still low season so we weren't very busy whilst Bev was away. Michelle and me were in the pub alone most nights. Yeah, well, Patricia slept over at John's place most of the time. It might sound stupid considering how many nights Patricia had spent in my bed. But it was agreed between us, that because John and Pat never shared a bed in the pub when Beverley was there, they wouldn't when she wasn't there either. Anyway Michelle hardly moved out of my room for the whole two weeks.

After the honeymoon, George moved into the pub and her room with Beverley. Not that he hadn't spent most of the month before the wedding there as well. Only now it was official. He also retired from the police and joined the team running the pub.

George and I got on pretty well together; he was quite happy to learn the ropes from a young man half his age, and asked advice often. He had damned good people skills and handled the customers very well. That's the big secret of running a pub, being able to handle the public.

In the next couple of months before Patricia's wedding I noted some changes coming over Millie. Sometimes she'd be really down and she went sick a few times as well. At times she'd be her usual fun loving ribald self and other days sometimes for a week or so she be as grumpy as hell. Several more guys got a beer shower when they said the wrong thing to her.

"That's our Millie," one of the locals said, after she'd drenched another smart mouth guy one day. But it wasn't a Millie that I recognised. Then a few days later Millie was standing behind some guy's chair battering him around the ears with her knockers again. One of her party pieces she did when any guy got too cheeky. You'd be surprised how many guys get all embarrassed when she did that to them. It was a brilliant way to put a smart mouth down and give everyone else a laugh. Even Phil thought it was funny when he saw her do it.

Patricia's wedding came and went, and she moved out to live with John in a cottage in the village. Like Millie she did some shifts in the pub and was there to help most weekends. John normally working the shift with her, he wasn't a bad barman either. 

----------------------

It was George who asked at breakfast one morning, "How come you and Michelle don't get hitched then, Mack?" and that took me by surprise. I really had to stop and think before I answered.

"Never going to happen, dad," Michelle replied whilst I was still thinking. Michelle and Pat were calling George Dad all the time by then. "Mack's a good friend and I love him to bit's, but we ain't meant to be together in the long term. Let's just say Mack and me are friends with benefits, shall we. I'm off to uni in the autumn and god knows where either of us will be in three years, isn't that right, Mack?"

For a moment I couldn't think how to reply. The news that Michelle was going of to university was a complete shock to me. I side stepped George's question by asking a different one of my own.

"What university are you going to, Michelle. Do you know yet?"

"Southampton, I think. I'm going to study journalism, might even try to get into the telly, you know a news reader or something."

This bit of news had really taken me by surprise and I began to realise that I couldn't let life just drift past me anymore. It was about time I started to think about my future.

End of Chapter 5



Mack's Progress Ch. 06



It was a Sunday lunchtime in early June when Millie decided it was time to make her big announcement, but as it was Millie, it had to be done in her own inimitable fashion. I wasn't working that lunchtime; normally I always did the Sunday lunchtime shift. But for some reason that day I was playing darts with Philip, Barry (Jean's husband) and John.

Some holidaymaker had just made an inane comment about Millie's appendages and she'd put him down very nicely with one of her ribald comebacks. Everybody had laughed at the poor guy, and he was sitting there doing a very convincing impersonation of a beetroot.

But then as Millie walked back across the pub to the bar with her usual wicked grin on her face, she literally shouted to Philip. "'ere Luvver, you're gonna have to buy me a wheelbarrow before long you know, you realise that, don't ya!"

Phil who was just about to throw his dart stopped in mid-swing and looked at his wife, with a confused expression on his face, quite obviously having no idea what Millie was talking about and preparing himself for whatever ribald comment Millie was about to come up with next. I think the whole pub had gone quiet, because Millie had everyone waiting with bated breath for the punch line to whatever joke she was planning.

But Millie just stood there and stared at Philip, who eventually was forced to ask the question.

"What in heaven's name would you want a wheelbarrow for Millie?"

"Yeah, well, I'm told that when they get filled up with milk, they get even bigger. I'm gonna need something to carry these buggers around in, ain't I!" Millie grinned at her confused husband and continued on her way towards the bar as if what she'd said was nothing out of the ordinary.

Phil stood there looking like a complete fool with that same confused look on his face for some time. Then someone, god only knows who shouted "Congratulations!" and slapped Phil on the back so hard that he dropped his dart. Within seconds everyone was slapping Phil on the back and congratulating him, but he still hadn't twigged it. That is until Michelle kissed him and I do believe she whispered to him that he was about to become a daddy. At that point Philip nearly fainted and had to be helped to a seat, but Millie had soon returned from the bar and was sitting on his lap reviving him by giving him her personal version of the kiss of life.

So that's how the village learnt that Millie was pregnant. Regretfully the following week brought bad news for everyone. Old Bert didn't turn up one morning; he'd been slowing down for sometime by then but normally showed by about lunchtime. Beverley must have got worried when he hadn't telephoned and she tried to call him. There was no reply, so George and Beverley set out for Bert's cottage to investigate. 

They found him sitting in his lounge where he'd obvious sat himself down on arriving home the evening before. He had left us! George informed us later that Bert had gone with a smile on his face. 

Bert's funeral cortège took a protracted route to the church, driving out of the village to stop in the Willow's car park where everyone (holidaymakers included) stepped outside to participate in a toast to Bert's memory, then all the staff from the pub joined the cortège for its journey back into the village and on to the church. After the service we followed the hearse to the crematorium. 

Beverley's sister had travelled down from Norwich with two of her barmaids to look after the Willow's whilst we were away.

The following week there was another short ceremony in the pub garden, when his ashes were sprinkled over what Bert considered to be "hallowed turf" by the vicar. For many years Bert had been the pub's gardener. 

A little brass plaque of remembrance was put up near Bert's usual stool in the bar and for a long time that stool was never soiled by a local resident's behind. Holidaymakers knew no different though and some of them did get a little confused by the toast of "To Bert" that was often sung out if one of them made the mistake of sitting upon that stool. 

----------------------------------

It must have been only a couple of weeks after Bert left us that my cousin, Billie, turned up one day on one of the cruisers. Billie was with her boyfriend and another young couple; I had no idea they'd arrived or were even coming. 

I'd just put some customers drinks on their table when out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed a lithe female form that was clad in several small pieces of red materiel - making a vain attempt to pretend that it was a bikini - threw itself at me. Both the body and I finished up rolling on the grass whilst Billie kissed me.

Billie had always been my favourite cousin - my kissing cousin. We'd sworn our undying love for each other at about the age of about seven or eight, I believe. Those sentiments had cooled a little as we'd got older, but not by very much. Billie still always hugged and kissed me whenever we met.

"Christ, Billie, have some decorum will you. I'm supposed to be working here!" I managed to say once she'd broken her hello kiss and let me breathe again.

"Well, that's nice! No, "hello, Billie"; just, "get off me." You never used to say that when we were little."

"Hello, Billie, it's nice to see you. Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" I replied, still trapped beneath her on the ground, by the way.

"We weren't sure when we would get here. We booked up at the last minute and had to collect the boat from miles away. That's my boyfriend, Laurence - no, my fiancée now; he asked me to marry him last week. I thought I'd better bring him up here to get your okay. You never come down to see us! Oh, and these are our best friends, Debra and Griff; they've just got engaged as well, so we're planning a double wedding sometime next year." 

"Hi, folks," I said looking at them through Billie's mop of auburn hair as best I could. "It would be easier to shake you fiancé's hand, if I was standing up, Billie, and besides I think he's looking a bit jealous," I pointed out.

Billie rolled off of me, then her friends helped us to our feet. But Billie still hung on to me as if I was her fiancé. We did the formal introductions, hand shaking and congratulations bit, then I I was steering them towards one of the picnic tables when a voice disturbed us.

"'Ere, luvvy, I'd put him down if I was you. You don't know where 'e's been!" It was Millie's dulcet tones. "And I'd put something a bit more chaste on, as well. We can't control 'im when he gets excited! Besides that, this is supposed to be a family pub."

"Sorry, I dropped my wrap when I was sneaking up on Mack," Billie said a little contritely at the same time as taking the sarong that Debra was holding out to her and winding around her waist, after disentangling herself from me that is. Then she went over to Mille and gave her a hug. "You must be Millie; I've heard so much about you. Congratulations!" Then seeing the slightly confused expression Millie's face, she added, "Julia and I chat all the time. She told me about the baby."

"But how did you know she was Millie?" I asked.

"Don't be bloody silly, luvver!" Millie chastised me with a grin on her face. "Everyone knows who I am the moment they see me, don't they. Jesus, Mack, you've been around 'em too long."

"Oops, yeah, forgot for a minute," I replied, realising that there weren't likely to be another pair like Millie's within a hundred miles or so.

Millie stepped close to me and kissed me on the cheek. "Should have married the bugger when I had the chance," she said to Billie, as if I wasn't even there. 

"I tried to throw a rope on dream boat more than once, but the bugger kept dodging it," Billie replied.

I suddenly realised why I'd got on with Millie so well. Except for the obvious differences, the Norfolk accent and that front suspension of Millie's, she could have been Billie's twin. No, that don't sound right. They don't look like each other at all really. Billie had an extremely slim and lithe figure; well, they both had really, but Millie had those knockers that would look big on someone twice her size. Billie and Millie, well, they just had the same personalities and sense of humour. They both cracked the same sort of ribald jokes and had the same habit of flirting with any handy bloke. 

What's more, I was soon to discover that they got on together like a house on fire. You'd have thought Billie had dropped in to visit her long lost cousin Millie, instead of me! Most of that evening was spent with Laurence and Griff chatting with me at the bar, whilst the four girls (Michelle had joined them) held court at one of the corner tables in the room.

When Bev and George came down into the pub, Bev Joined the little clique in the corner and George came to help me behind the bar.

"Don't like that!" Laurence said suddenly during the evening.

"Don't like what?" Griff asked.

"When they go all quiet and turn round and look over here. I think they are talking about me!"

"Look, lad," George offered. "If they are talking about you, you ain't got much to worry about. The same goes for if they are talking to you. You pretend to be paying attention and watch the telly at the same time. When they ain't talking, that's when you got to worry about women!"

Billie and her little gang had only hired the boat for a week, so the following morning they set off up river and returned two days later for an evening on their way back down river to the hire yard. Millie dragged Philip in for Billie's inspection that time. A friendship was built between those two girls in those couple of visits that lasts to this day.

It was Millie who two months later persuaded me to go to Billie's wedding. I don't know what happened - I can only assume that Billie and Laurence must have got a little lax about taking precautions, either that or a condom burst. Billie explained to me that she was one of the few whose bodies refused to tolerate birth control pills.

Billie had invited Millie and Philip to her wedding as well as me of course. She'd also invited Michelle but we couldn't have too many of us away from the pub at that time of year.

I wasn't going to go when the invite first arrived, but Millie wasn't having any of "that nonsense" as she called it.

"Time to put your toys back in the pram, Mack!" Millie ranted, "Besides Phil and me would have to spend the whole damned day making excuses for you not being there!"

I drove Millie and Phil down to town in my old car; Phil wasn't one for driving very far, unless it was on a tractor. The wedding had been organised at short notice so the reception was in a hotel some miles from where the family lived and the three of us had booked into the same hotel as the reception was being held in. The excuse I'd used for not staying at my parents' place was that I wouldn't have to worry about drinking and driving.

So we checked into the hotel before we went to the church, where my family pounced upon us. Julia dragged Millie and Philip off to introduce them to everyone; but not before asking me where Michelle was. I couldn't understand how several people who asked about Michelle even knew that she existed.

After the service we all went back to the hotel for the banquet and then the reception afterwards. Considering the short notice I thought it was a bloody good do, but Laurence told me later at the bar that they'd struck lucky and the hotel had had a wedding cancellation. They'd literally taken over the booking.

Once the formal side of things were out of the way, the party started; friends and guests who hadn't been invited for the meal began to arrive. The guest list had apparently been a little restricted because the numbers who could be invited were limited by the original booking. It showed how much Millie and Billie had bonded together because, as almost strangers to the family, Millie and Phil had been invited to the formal stuff.

It fell to Julia again to warn me. I was sitting at the bar talking to another cousin of mine when Julia came up to join us. I'm not sure if it was pre-planned, or if Julia made some gesture to my cousin that I didn't see, but he vanished almost the moment Julia climbed on the stool beside me.

"I thought I'd better give you some advanced warning!" Julia said after ordering herself a drink. "Lynn's coming later with her fella." Then she turned to look at me. I got the feeling she was watching for my reaction to the news.

"So why should Lindsey being here with Conway worry me?" I replied.

"No, not with Conway, Mack. Lynn's been going out with some other guy."

'Strange.' I thought 'I wonder what went wrong between Lindsey and lover boy?' but I didn't voice the question to Julia.

However Julia must have decided that the point needed clearing up in my mind, even if I attempted to show no interest.

"Conway and his wife have reconciled, Mack, or at least they are trying to. They should be here later as well!"

"That's of no interest to me, Julia!"

"Oh, well I thought that you'd be interested in who organised their reconciliation at least."

"Stephanie, I should imagine; she's always into everyone's business. Or was it you, with your interfering hat on again?"

"No, it was Lynn. Apparently we all misunderstood what was going on between Conway and Lynn. We discovered that Conway's wife and Lynn have always been friends since she first moved up to town from Bath. Conway wasn't so much chasing after Lynn, as asking her to play go between. That's why he always liked to have Lynn around. He knew that she'd tell Maria that he was behaving himself and she was happy to leave the children under Lynn's watchful eye."

'No, I don't believe a word of it, Julia!' I was thinking to myself. Lindsey and Conway have really pulled the wool over everyone's eyes. This had to be more of their smoke screen. One thing that was bugging me, though, was this Lynn instead of Lindsey bit; it was really getting my goat. I'm not sure why I asked Julia.

"What's with this Lynn bit, Julia? When I was going with her she would go ape-shit when I wanted to call her Lynn?" 

A slight exaggeration on my part there, but Lindsey would always make a point of correcting me.

Julia just stared at me for a few seconds. "Work it out for yourself, Mack. And while you are at it, think. Was there anything you used to go on at Lynn about?" 

"I don't understand what you're on about, Julia."

"Well, what about her hair?"

"Her hair?"

"Yeah, didn't you tell her you preferred it long, when she had it cut short that time?"

"Probably. I just happen to think it looked better long."

"And didn't you tell her that you liked her in that red dress of hers?"

"Most likely. I thought the colour suited her."

"Well, dumb arse, Lynn is the lady in red nowadays. She hardly ever wears any other colour and her hair is almost down to her waist now. Does that mean anything to you at all?"

"No, should it?"

"Oh, god, give me strength," Julia said, then slid off of her stool and walked away.

I was just about to follow her to get her to explain what she had been talking about when Phil and Laurence arrived at the bar. Those two appeared to get on well, which was lucky considering the way Billie and Mille got on so well. Phil was explaining something about the sugar beet harvest and for some reason Laurence sounded enthralled.

After a couple of minutes of hearing about sugar beets, a regular subject of conversation amongst the locals back at the pub around September and November time, I wished that I had chased after Julia. So as subtly as I could, I slipped away to find someone else to talk to.

I'd no sooner stepped into the function room than four children surrounded me; actually there were a damn sight more than four, but you know the four that I'm referring to. I managed to ditch them after ensuring they all had replenished soft drinks.

Anyway the presence of Conway's two informed me that he had arrived. I don't think I went looking for Conway on purpose, but I might have done to see what his wife looked like. I found them along with Lindsey and some other young guy, sat at a table at the far end of the room. Pretending that I hadn't noticed them, I carried on out into the hotel's foyer and through into the bar that was open to residents. 

I'd been safely hiding in the resident's bar for some time when Millie found me.

"What-ya doing in here, Luvver?" Millie asked dropping in the seat beside me.

"Hiding. What-ya think? Millie, I've spent most of the day replaying the story of the last two years of my life to relatives that I ain't going to see again for donkey's years. And one of the first thing most of them, asked is how is Lindsey? Now they are going to spot her in there and wonder what the fuck is going on."

"Well, you've only yourself to blame, maybe you should have visited home a few times, Mack!"

"Millie, let's not go there please; I just ain't in the mood!"

"Fine, I'll mind my own business, Mr Misery, but only if you dance with me. You haven't asked me to dance yet and that should get them wondering what's going on."

"Where's Phil? I thought he'd be dancing with you."

"Yeah, well, he did, but for the last hour him and Laurence have been chatting; I think they are cooking something up between them. Billie's getting a bit narked about them as well."

Millie and I did our thing on the dance floor for a while - well, until Billie spotted us; it was pretty obvious to me that she manoeuvred Griff over to where Millie and I were dancing. Then she ditched Griff, and grabbed hold of me for the next dance.

"You can have him for this one, Luvver. But if I can't find our husbands, I'm having 'im back for the next!" Millie said to Billie as we glided away from her.

"What's with Laurence and Phil?" I asked Billie at the first opportunity.

"Don't know. Some big secret they're cooking up, I think. I'm not sure if it's a surprise for Millie or me they are planning. When I asked them, they both got little boy grins on their faces."

"Well, providing it isn't a surprise for me, I don't mind," I replied. "You seem to have hit it off well with Millie."

"Yeah, she's great fun. I wish I'd met up with her years ago. She's like having a sister; we have the same sense of humour."

"Yeah, I noticed."

"And we have the same big brother." 

'What the hell are you talking about now, Billie?' I thought, but I just said, "Pardon?"

"You, you great lump. Having you about was like having a brother," she said, grinning at me again.

I'm not sure what expression came on my face, but Billie must have read a lot more from it than I intended.

"Oh, shit, you didn't, did you? Christ, that was almost incest! --- Oh damn, now I'm jealous of my newest best friend. How come you never took me into your bed?"

"It's nothing of the kind, Billie. I'm no relation to Millie."

"You might not be but I told you she's like a sister to me now. And you bedded her. How many times?"

"Wilhelmena, can we please change the subject?" The use of Billie's given name, I was pretty sure, would bring her back under control.

"All right, providing you don't start calling me that all the time. Okay, what do you make of him?" Billie asked.

"Who?" I asked. I had no idea if she was talking about Laurence or Philip.

"Lynn's new fella," Billie said.

"Haven't seen him," I lied. "Are they here?"

"You're a piss poor liar, Mack, you always were. You know full well that Lynn is sitting over there with Conway and his wife. And I know you've checked out the guy she's with. I watched you when you went out earlier." 

"I might have seen them, now that you mention it. But I really didn't take any notice."

"Okay, have it your way, but there's really no sense in lying to yourself, Mack. You know that neither of you will be able to move on until you've talked over this thing that came between you, don't you?"




Mack's Progress Ch. 06



"Billie, I can't see that there is anything to talk out. And Lindsey can go out with whoever she likes. I don't give a monkey's."

"You really are a piss poor liar, Mack. You're dancing with me, remember? You lost all coordination when you said that. If I hadn't been nimble on my feet, you'd have stamped all over them."

Possibly Billie was telling the truth. I was aware that our feet had collided.

"Don't be silly. I'm just a little worn out, that's all. It is the middle of our busy season. I've been worked off my feet for weeks."

"Have it your way, Mack, but I don't believe you!"

Millie seemed to arrive beside us as the band took a break, and I used the opportunity to slip away from the terrible two. That was a nickname that I was to give the pair of them not long after, and they still share to this day.

I think I was talking to my father a little while later when I caught sight of Lindsey and the new fella she was with out on the dance floor; it was a slow number and they were holding each other pretty tight. 

Did it bother me? Well, I told myself it didn't. Then Billie and Millie, dancing with their respective husbands and sharing a big joke about something, took my attention. During the number they changed partners and apparently exchanged quick kisses with their new partner before switching back again. 

When they passed by near where I was standing both girls waved at me and blew me kisses as well. Whatever my facial expression was this time, it caused all four of them to break out in laughter. I figured I was probably the butt of one of the girl's joke.

The next half hour or so was spent explaining to relatives where I'd been for the last couple of years and it was beginning to wear me down again; so as subtly as I could, I made my way towards one of the exits, heading for the residents bar again. I was almost at the door when who should sweep into view on the crowded dance floor just for a moment but Millie. The thing that took me completely by surprise was that she was dancing with Conway.

This was such a shock for me to see that I stopped in the foyer to replay the scene in my mind and convince myself that I hadn't been mistaken. While I was standing there the music stopped, so I went to the other door into the function room arriving there just in time to see Millie sitting down beside the woman who I assumed was Mrs Conway. It could be no one else; her two children were sitting with her. 

Realising that if I stood there much longer, someone -- especially Lindsey and her fella -- might spot me watching when they returned to the table, I headed into the residents' bar for a drink and found my old table in the corner still empty. I slipped into my seat and the barman arrived with my Rum and Coke with a couple of ice cubs floating in it; I'd organised my drinks order with him early. When the rum was gone he placed a pint in front of me. I looked up at him.

"I think you've had enough of the hard stuff, Mack. It's not even ten yet!" He smiled down at me.

I just nodded in return. How many times had I noticed that a customer was hitting it a bit on the hard side? Having realised that the barman was telling the truth, I sat there and nursed my pint. I was trying to figure out where my life was going now. In a few weeks Michelle would be leaving for her Uni course down in Southampton. The pub would get quiet as it always did in the winter, George, Bev and Patricia with John and Millie's help could run the place quite happily. I was wondering what I should do.

'Maybe,' I thought, 'I could go down to Southampton and find a job in a pub down that way. I could see Michelle... but no, Michelle and I were 'friends with benefits', as she had so aptly put it. There was no real chemistry between us; by being around I would cramp her style.' Oh, shit, you know what I mean.

Where the idea of backpacking came into my head from, god alone knows. But suddenly I was thinking of ditching the old car and hitchhiking around Europe, or to be precise southern Europe, probably a bit warmer down there. I might even stray into North Africa, you know Morocco and those kinds of places. To be honest I was totally lost in my thoughts when I became aware of a voice saying. 

"...Mack, isn't it? May I join you for a few minutes?"

I looked up to see Conway's wife standing there. A quick scan of the room and I noticed Conway standing by the bar watching.

I don't think I answered the lady; I believe that I just gestured with my hands by removing them from the pint glass that I was holding onto as if it would run away on its own.

"Thank you!" she said, as she sat on the seat opposite me and placed her glass on the table. 

"I'm sorry," she said, then took a sip from her drink. "I've met your friend Millie this evening and I'm afraid that you were the subject of our conversation. Well, you and Lindsey." 

I think it was the fact the she said Lindsey that made me look into her eyes. It appeared that everyone was calling her Lynn now. So this woman saying Lindsey was telling me that she'd known her for sometime; well, that's what my mind made of it.

"Millie tells me that you are under the impression that my husband and Lindsey were having an affair. I'm here to tell you that that is untrue. Conway was having an affair with a girl in his office, but it was not Lindsey. I'd known Lindsey since she first moved up to town and I'd trust her with my children's lives."

I think I mumbled something here but I can't recall what was; probably something like "more fool you then." Something on those lines anyway. But Conway's wife couldn't make out what I'd said. 

"Sorry?" she asked.

"It's of no importance," I replied.

"Anyway, Lindsey challenged Conway about his affair and made him confess it to me. I'm afraid I didn't take it quietly and threw Conway out. Poor Lindsey, the silly girl, blamed herself for our marriage breaking up and, well, eventually when I'd calmed down she persuaded me to take Conway back."

I don't know what made me look round at Conway, who was sitting on a stool at the bar by then, watching us intently. I couldn't read the expression on his face though.

"Conway would like the opportunity to apologise to you," his wife was saying.

"What for?"

"Well, you know he's quite attached to Lindsey, almost treats her like a little sister. You must understand that it was the influence she has over him that made him confess his affair to me. Well, since you and Lindsey broke up he held it against you. Apparently he insulted Millie and you at that public house you both work in. Conway has apologised to Millie and he'd like to do the same to you, if you'll let him."

"I can't see that there's much point, because I shall be leaving the country in a few weeks so it's doubtful we'll ever run into each other again," I replied.

I have no idea why I expressed my tentative plans to Conway's wife. Perhaps it was another of the knee-jerk reactions that seemed to govern my life. Whatever, it took her completely off guard; I could see the look of surprise in her face.

"Oh, we weren't aware of your plans. No one mentioned them," she said after regaining her composure a couple of seconds later. "But really, Mack, for everyone's sake, please let Conway apologise to you! It will let his conscience rest if nothing else; I know he feels awkward when your name crops up when we are with Brian and Stephanie."

I told her that if Conway wanted to apologise then let him. It really made no difference to me. She nodded in Conway's direction and he came over and said his piece. He started saying something about being annoyed about the way I'd walked out on Lindsey, but his wife stopped him, reminding him the Lindsey had asked him to stay out of her problems. So he dropped it and apologised for any insinuation or disparaging remarks he'd made about Mille and myself, then said something about not bearing any grudges. I showed my dislike of the man, by not rising to my feet to shake his hand. We did shake hands but in the sitting position. After a somewhat awkward and embarrassing few minutes, Conway and his wife left me in peace.

It didn't take me long to discover I'd put my foot in my mouth by telling Conway's wife about my idea of going backpacking though. Julia was the first one to grab me when I decided to show my face for a short while in the function room on my way back from the gents.

"What's this I hear about you leaving the country?" she demanded.

"I'm thinking of spending the winter in Europe," I told her, trying to make it sound like a normal everyday thing to do.

"Well, what about us?" she demanded.

"Well, if you want to tag along, there's nothing I can do to stop you!" I was quite proud of that comeback. But it was wasted on Julia.

"I mean when did you intend to let the family in on this little jaunt of yours?"

"Julia, I've only just thought of the idea. I haven't worked out the logistics or anything yet. The pub gets quiet during the winter and I just thought hitchhiking around Europe would be fun."

"But what about Michelle?"

"What the hell has Michelle got to do with anything; she'll be at university anyway. Not that her being anywhere would make any difference to my mind," I lied. 

If Michelle had been staying at the pub, I doubt I would have thought of going anywhere else for the winter. As I've said there was no real romance between Michelle and me but we had some bloody good fun in bed. I suppose more than one relationship has survived on less.

Julia had an exasperated look on her face. For a moment she looked like she was going to say something further, then she turned and stomped away. 

Two more relatives collared me in the next few minutes asking about my proposed backpacking trip. I managed to fob them off by explaining that it was still in the planning stage and retreated out of the function room and headed for the residents' bar again. But as I got close to the door, I spotted Millie and Billie in there talking to the barman. Just from his body language it was apparent they were asking if he knew where I was. I saw him point to the table I'd been using.

I'd also noticed that both girls looked agitated about something and I had the nastiest feeling that they also had heard the news about my trip, and they planned to lay into me.

'Bugger this,' I thought 'I'm going for a walk until the smoke clears.' And left the hotel by the front door.

I knew the area the hotel was in pretty well and strolled around the locality for half an hour or so. It was as I was walking towards the hotel's car park on my way back that I noted two people come out the front door of the hotel; one obviously following the other. The girl was Lindsey and I knew immediately that the guy was Conway. Lindsey was striding along and Conway was calling after her; she didn't stop so he sprinted a few yards, caught up with her and grabbed her arm making her swing around to face him.

Staying in the shadows I continued closing the gap between us. I think I was planning on passing the other side of a few parked cars hoping they wouldn't see me.

"There's nothing you can do. I can't understand why you just don't get on with your life. It's obvious that he doesn't give a monkey's about you or how you feel about him," I heard Conway saying as I got closer.

"But I love him, Conway, I just don't know what I did to drive him away," Lindsey replied.

They turned a little then, Lindsey was pacing backwards and forwards with Conway keeping pace with her. Even though I was a lot closer I couldn't hear what they said while they were turned away from me.

"He loved me, I know he did!" was the next thing I caught from Lindsey.

"You've got to face it, girl. Any man who walks away from a woman because she won't sleep with him before they are married isn't worth all the heartache you're putting yourself through."

"But if that is the reason he left me, as you are so convinced it was, why did he stay with me for that year? And why was Millie so convinced that I was sleeping with you? She didn't know either of us. Why would she think that we were sleeping together?"

"Did she tell you that?" Conway asked.

"Yes, she told me earlier this evening."

"Oh, shit!" Conway literally shouted. "Damn it, if Mack thought that, then I bet I know what his bloody problem is."

Lindsey had suddenly stopped walking and had she been looking to her front she would have seen me standing there less than twenty feet away. But she was looking at Conway.

"Oh, bugger, how the hell are we going to get around this one?" Conway was saying to himself, I think. Lindsey was standing there staring at him and waiting.

Now Conway began pacing. "Yeah, now I can understand why Mack went off the deep end. I think I would have done the same if I thought my girl had done the same to me." 

"Done what?" Lindsey asked him.

"Lindsey, think about it. What reason did you give Mack for not sleeping with him?"

"You know I told you a long time ago, I promised my mother I'd be a virgin on my wedding night."

"And now we find out that Mack for some reason is convinced that you and I were sleeping together."

"So?"

"Christ, Lynn, if Mack thought you were sleeping with someone else whilst denying him, it wouldn't do much for his damned ego, would it? He'd have to re-evaluate his feelings for you and the feelings you claimed to have for hi...m." The end of Conway's sentence dragged to a close. "Oh, shit! Angela!"

"Angela? What's Angela got to do with Mack?"

I could remember Angela; she was one of the girls who'd always been at those parties Lindsey used to take me.

"When Angela and I were... you know."

"Having your affair!" Lindsey said with a cold tone to her voice.

"Yeah, well, when we first got together, she had that boyfriend - I can't remember his name."

"Neither can I!"

"It's not important, but what is, is that she strung him along for a long time just to keep anyone from suspecting that she and I were..."

"Oh, god!" Lindsey said, "You don't think Mack thought that...?" 

"Can you think of a better reason for him to just piss-off like that?"

"But why didn't he speak me, say something?"

"Oh, yeah, I can see him doing that! Think about it, Lindsey. I don't know why, but Mack gets it into his head that you are having sex with me and refusing to have sex with him. Shit, just him thinking about you having sex with me would be enough reason for him to dump you. But if he thought that you were using him as cover, like Angela did that guy of hers... only I think she was shagging that guy. Anyway I doubt it did Mack's ego any good at all. If he's convinced that you've been lying to him, he's hardly going to think there's much point in discussing it with you, is he?"

"So he just goes off without a word."

"Oh, from what Brian told me there were a few words bandied about at home. They thought he'd dumped you because you wouldn't have sex with him, remember? Poor sod was between a rock and a hard place, if you ask me!"

"But why would he think I was having sex with anyone? I've been asking myself that question ever since he dumped me. You know I've never... don't you?"

"Well, you tell me that you haven't and I've no reason to believe that you're lying Lynn. But for some reason Mack does." 

"I don't understand why," Lindsey said, and then burst into tears. Conway put his arms around her and I will say it was plainly a brotherly embrace. Slowly he began to lead Lindsey back towards the building.

I stood there beside a tree, watching them go.

"Discovered what you needed to know?" a voice asked from out of the shadows on the other side of the tree.

I turned to my right and saw Conway's wife emerging from a deeper shadow than I had hid myself in.

"Oh, I saw Conway going outside, but I didn't realise he was following Lindsey. I trust Lindsey, but I don't completely trust Conway yet. I came out by the side door. When I saw he was with her I was about to go back inside when I noticed you standing there in the shadows."

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop. They were just between me and the door."

"Yeah I know, but what are your feelings about what you heard, and why are you so convinced that Lindsey was sleeping with someone else in the first place? She tells me that she's a virgin and I believe her. Why don't you?"

"She wasn't home one day when I called to see her. It was something I found in her flat." I have no idea why I said that to Conway's wife.

"Something you found in her flat that would lead you to believe that Lindsey was in a sexual relationship with someone. Specifically a man I assume?"

"Yes."

"I've known Lindsey a long time, Mack, and I've got a good idea what you found. You discovered she's taking the birth control pills, am I right?"

I didn't answer her.

"I am right!" she said with a strangely happy tone in her voice. "Mack, women don't only take the pill for its birth control properties. Yeah, that's what it was invented for, but doctors also prescribe it to some women who have irregular cycles. You know that it's called the curse, don't you? Some women have a real bad time of it. Their periods don't come like clockwork and when they do have one ... well, they can feel bloody rotten. The longer between periods the more ratty they can get just before them as well. You've heard of PMT, haven't you? Christ, most guys crack jokes about it when their wives and girlfriends are feeling ratty when they've got a touch of the PMT's."

"Yeah, I think I have. Millie said something about it once," I told her.

"Well, I can tell you that when Lindsey was in college she was having a hell of a time. She was a late developer, you know and ... well, she nearly flunked out of college until Vera - she was one of Lindsey's teachers and a friend of mine when I was in college - anyway Vera suggested that Lindsey go to a female doctor about her problems with her periods. She put Lindsey onto the pill and her troubles were almost over."

"Almost?"

"Yeah, some silly sod found her pills and assumed she was getting laid by half the guys in the country. Mack, Lindsey's a virgin, take my word for it!"

Now, to most folks that revelation of Conway's wife would have been enough to make them dash back into the hotel, find Lindsey and beg her forgiveness for mistrusting her. Regretfully when you've based the last couple of years of your life on one premise, it isn't that easy to change horses. But Mrs Conway could see that I was wavering, we stood there talking for god knows how long. Me relating my concerns and her shooting them down one after the other. The fact that she had been cheated on and had some idea how I felt when I first got suspicious seemed to help us. 

"Now you're really stumped, aren't you?" she finally said. "I'll tell you what; you come with me. I'll find Lindsey and explain what happened and, well, we'll see what develops from there, shall we?" 

"I'm not..."

"Come on, we'll go in by the side door. No one will see us. There's a library just inside that door; I doubt anyone will be in there at this time of night so you and Lindsey can talk in there."

I somewhat sheepishly followed her back into the hotel by the side door.

"You wait in there and I'll go find Lindsey," she said, pointing at a nearby door and then disappearing down the corridor.

I opened the door slowly; I'm not sure why, probably just in case the room was occupied and someone was reading in there. Doubtful at that time of night, but not an impossibility.

The room was lit by a single table lamp, or reading lamp, I didn't get a close enough look to identify which. And I discovered that it was occupied as well; there was a young man down on one knee in front of one of the Chesterfields. He was holding something out in his hand to a young woman who was sitting on the Chesterfield. I saw the lamplight reflected in the diamonds facets. The young woman? She had long dark hair and was wearing a red dress; she had one hand up as if to take the ring from the young man's hand.




Mack's Progress Ch. 06



The extra light entering the room from the open door must have attracted their attention and they both stopped mid-move and looked in my direction. I saw the recognition on Lindsey's face at about the same instant that I realised that it was she. Her eyes seemed to get very large before they vanished as I closed the door again as quietly as I had opened it.

With determination in my step I followed the same route Conway's wife had taken down the corridor. Only I didn't turn into the function room, I headed for the reception desk where I retrieved my key and told the girl behind it that I was not to be disturbed, unless World War Three broke out, or the hotel was burning down.

Then I went to my room vaulting up the stairs, three at a time. Once inside I locked the door retrieved the bottle of Rum I'd brought with me, just in case, and then turned out the light. 

End of chapter 6



Mack's Progress Ch. 07



I think it must have been about midnight when I broke the seal on that bottle of rum. I wasn't bad enough to drink straight from the bottle though and I poured a decent shot of the liquid into one of the tooth glasses I'd retrieved from the bathroom. God knows how long I lay there, trying to understand where my life was going.

And what was it about Lindsey that she kept bugging me like she did. Christ, I'd dumped her two years ago and I'd had relationships of sorts with Millie, Patricia and Michelle, not to mention Bev. But none of them had gotten under my skin as much as Lindsey had. The girl was the bane of my life; every time someone mentioned her damned name, I got this damned lump in my throat. I knew that I had to force myself to get over her somehow

Why the hell had I listened to Conway's wife. She'd convinced me I'd been wrong about Lindsey, but in my befuddled brain I'd forgotten that over two years had passed since the last time she'd told me she loved me. And in those two years, I'd treated her like shit. Was Lindsey taking her revenge on me for doing so?

Was that it? Was the whole charade that day to prove to me that I'd been wrong and then stomp on me whilst I was down. Come to that, had Conway and Lindsey's little speech in the car park all been choreographed out for me to hear? Maybe even Conway's wife being in the shadows was a set-up. Had I been conned again? Was I supposed to walk into that library and see the woman that I loved accepting a proposal of marriage from another man? 

I couldn't understand how they could have known that I was going to be in that car park at that particular time. But I had to think that that was somehow a possibility. Perhaps they had been watching me, waiting for the perfect opportunity. 

If that was the case, had what was said by anyone that day been the truth? And if it was, why did I find that jerk proposing to Lindsey? 

"No!" I told myself. When they had come out of the hotel, I was much too far too far away for them to see me, let alone recognise me. All of these jumbled thoughts were going around in my brain, and to be honest I couldn't make head or tail of any of it.

Whether I'd fallen asleep or was lost in my thoughts, I don't know. But someone knocked on my door about half twelve. I ignored the knocks and I could hear the sound of a muffled discussion going on about whether or not I was in the room. But I couldn't distinguish who was speaking. After knocking several more times and trying the door handle whoever they were went away.

A very similar thing happened again about two AM. But this time I quite plainly heard someone saying, "The occupant of that room has left specific instructions that he was not to be disturbed." There was some further muffled conversation then it went quiet again. 

The next thing I remember the telephone was ringing.

"Your morning call, sir," the girl said first when I answered it. "I'm afraid I'm a few minutes early but there's a lady on the line insisting that she speak to you. She claims to be your sister, sir."

Julia, I assumed rightly, was going to lay into me for going to bed without saying good night to anyone. I was correct; when the girl put her through, she went bonkers about not saying goodnight to anyone. 

Then she asked in an angry tone of voice, "What did you say to Lynn this time that upset her so much?" 

"I never spoke to Lindsey at all yesterday, Julia!" I replied.

"You must have done. Joan was looking for you because she said she'd arranged for you and Lindsey to sit down and talk."

"Joan?"

"Yes, Conway's wife."

"Oh, is that her name? I didn't know. Well, whatever Joan was planning, I never actually got to speak to Lindsey. I saw her, but we never said a word to each other."

"Why ever not?"

"She was too busy, Julia. Busy talking with that guy she came with yesterday, if you understand me," I explained.

"That doesn't make sense. When we saw her she was crying; Conway and Joan were taking her home. Come to think of it, I didn't see that guy leaving with them."

"Well, the last I saw of them, Lindsey and that guy were having a very intimate conversation in the hotel library, not the sort of conversation anyone would want to interrupt!" 

"Oh, shit! How intimate?" Julia asked.

"Very intimate," I replied.

"Embarrassingly, they weren't at it, were they?"

"No, I wouldn't have said that. More a conversation that most people would think impolite to interrupt," I explained.

"Then they weren't... you know?" Julia asked.

"No, Julia. That guy, whoever he was, was proposing to Lindsey."

"Holy shit! Surely she didn't accept?"

"I have no idea, Julia, but I should imagine so. It looked to me as if that guy was waving the bleeding Koh-I-Noor diamond under Lindsey's nose and I'd say that she was taking it from him when I walked in on them. I just got my arse the hell out of there, as quickly as I could. I was pretty upset at the time; bloody Conway's wife had just conned me into believing that Lindsey and I might be able to put things back... No, Julia, this is all just too upsetting for me; I don't want to go there. If you don't mind, I don't want to hear or talk about that woman ever again. The further I stay away from her, the happier I'll be!"

"No, Mack, you must have it all wrong again somehow. I spoke to Lindsey yesterday; she's still just as hooked on you as she's ever been. I know it!" 

"Julia, everyone keeps telling me how much Lindsey loves me, but I stopped believing any of that crap before I left town; I have no idea why she's still keeping up this stupid pretence. I just can't figure out what kind of silly game she's playing or why. But guys don't go out and buy an f-ing great diamond ring like that bleeding thing he had in his hand last night on the off chance! As far as I'm concerned, Lindsey doesn't exist in my universe and I have no wish to ever hear about her again." 

I got more than a little angry after that and reminded Julia that I had blanked her before when she had kept harping on about Lindsey and that I was quite prepared to do the same again. Then I ended the discussion by saying that I was going down for my breakfast.

Millie and Philip joined me at my table almost as soon as I got into the dining room. Millie began to say something about Lindsey, but I stopped her very quickly, reminding her that I was about to drive both of them back home and I could very easily travel alone. Luckily the newly weds arrived at that moment and Billie had news that was more important to everyone than Lindsey.

"Guess what, Mack. We're going to be your neighbours!" Billie gushed the moment she arrived at the table, "Philip's offered Laurence a job on his farm and we're going to live in a cottage in the village."

I quickly learnt that whilst Laurence and Philip had been talking at the wedding, the subject of where Billie and Laurence were going to live came up. They had planned to stay with Billie's parents until they'd found a flat or something that they could afford. Laurence is a mechanic of sorts and - as I've said he and Philip seemed to get on pretty good together - so Phil had offered Laurence a job with a tied cottage on the farm. That's what all the intrigue between the boys had been about at the reception. Although Laurence was a city boy, it was apparent that the plan was for Philip to teach him how to become a farmer in the long term.

Right after breakfast Brian turned up to drive the newlyweds to the airport, so there was no time for anyone to say anything much. Then the three of us headed back up to Norfolk. Conversation on the journey was a little strained. Mostly Millie was breaking the silence by talking to Philip about what needed doing to Bert's cottage, where Billie and Laurence were going to live.

-------------------------

"She was at the wedding, wasn't she?" Beverley said to me in the cellar a few days after we got back.

"If you mean Lindsey then, yes, she was. But I'd prefer not to talk about her," I replied.

"But did you talk to her?"

"Nope, I was going to, but there wasn't much point. I stumbled upon them whilst her fella was proposing to her."

"Oh!" Beverley said quietly.

"Yeah, very much, Oh! I think I was well and truly set up!"

"Sorry. How?"

"You remember that arsehole Conway?"

"Yeah, was he there?" 

"Sure was, and he had his wife with him as well." 

"But I thought they were divorced or heading that way."

"So did I. But it seems they are not. The story I got was that Lindsey had talked them into getting back together; anyway that's of no importance. What is, is that Conway's wife Joan, or whatever her name is, talked me into meeting Lindsey in the hotel library; but when I walked in there, the wanker that Lindsey had turned up at the wedding with was in the middle of proposing to her."

"Oh, shit! Did Lindsey accept?"

"Buggered if I hung about long enough to find out, Bev. I should imagine so though. That bloody diamond ring he was giving her was the size of a bleeding golf ball. What woman's going to turn down that kind of dough?"

"Oh!" Beverley said again, and then she stood there for a few moments, obviously thinking about what she was going to say next. "And you think that it was a set-up then, this Joan woman was cruel enough to send you in there so you could witness this guy proposing to Lindsey?"

"Yeah that's about it. All too much of a coincidence to be anything else. I mean, how did that Joan woman know that the library was even there; it's only open to guests and it's tucked away a bit. Neither Conway and his wife, or Lindsey were staying overnight at the hotel, so strictly speaking, none of them should have been in there anyway."

I went on to explain to Beverley the fine details of my talk with Conway's wife and the strange circumstances the meeting had taken place in. She, like myself, couldn't understand how it could have been pre-planned and Bev suggested that it must have been coincidental.

"Mack, maybe this guy had a crush on Lindsey and just picked an inopportune moment as far as you were concerned. Think about it, Mack. A wedding is a pretty good place to propose to someone, isn't it?" Beverley suggested.

"Guys don't go buying rings like that on the off chance, Bev!"

"Maybe you don't, but there's lots of guys out there who do. I knew a guy once who carried a bleeding great diamond ring around in his pocket. Well, he claimed if it was a diamond. I suspect that it was paste really; he pretended he was very rich and used to ask girls to marry him just to get them into bed. There's more than one greedy woman in this village who fell for his line of shit. You say it was a big diamond! Remember that old song 'diamonds are a girl's best friend'; well, there's plenty women who get married for money, you know. And there's plenty of men with money who will try to use it to get the woman they want."

"What? Are you trying to kid me that the guy asked Lindsey to marry him out of the blue?"

"Yeah, it's a possibility, Mack. I've had a few guys propose to me at the drop of a hat over the years; this pub is worth a good few bob, you know. Perhaps that guy thought Lindsey would marry him for his money. It's pretty obvious that the man she does love isn't going to marry her in a hurry."

I had a problem getting my head around that last comment of Beverley's, so I didn't reply whilst I tried to work out what she meant by it. Beverley must have seen the confusion on my face.

"Come off it, Mack. That woman's stuck on you and you're stuck on her. Mind, why she's still interested after the way you've behaved, I'm buggered if I know."

"You lost me, Bev!"

"Damn it, Mack, Lindsey has been waiting for you to come back to her. I don't know what the hell was going on when you saw her in that hotel library, but I'll stake my girls on the fact that Lindsey wouldn't have accepted any proposal of marriage from that guy." 

"Why?"

"Millie told me that she was crying when she saw them leave the reception and that there was no other guy aground; just the Conway guy and his wife. Millie had had a long chat with Conway's wife during the evening and she told Millie that Lindsey just can't get you out of her system."

"Don't make much sense, Bev, if that was the case. Why did Lindsey turn up with that guy in the first place?"

"I have no idea, Mack. Perhaps she wanted to avoid being embarrassed about being there alone when you weren't; remember that Michelle had been invited to the wedding as well as your guest."

"No, I don't buy it, Bev; that guy was all over Lindsey right from the start."

"Just remember what George is always saying, Mack. What you see isn't always what you get. Have another chat with your sister Julia, see if she knows what really went on, on Saturday evening."

-------------------------------------

I did speak to Julia the following weekend. And she had obviously had a long chat with Lindsey and Julia assured me that the guy's proposal to Lindsey had come completely out of the blue. The guy worked in the same company as Conway and Lindsey, and had been somewhat besotted with her for a year or so. Lindsey apparently liked the guy and they'd gone out for the odd meal together, but she'd told him that there was no chance of a romance between them; or so Lindsey had claimed to Julia.

Julia tried to talk me into going back to town to meet up with Lindsey, "just for a chat," she said, and I told her that I'd think about it. This seemed to please Julia and just about everyone else in the pub. Someone must have been either eavesdropping or have spoken to Julia on the phone shortly after I did.

But then things took an unexpected turn. Word had quickly gone around the pub that I was thinking of taking off for warmer climes for a few months during the quiet season, and Craig - one of the guys who worked in the boat yard - approached me at the bar that same evening.

"I hear you're thinking of taking off for a few months, Mack," he said as I handed him his pint.

"Yeah, I've been toying with the idea of backpacking around Europe before I get too old," I replied. 

"You do sail, don't you?"

"Yeah, I've done a fair bit, mostly little craft." 

"Any big stuff, out at sea?"

"Well, I've crewed on some big racing yachts on occasions, yeah. Mostly on the south coast. Why the interest?" 

"Well, there's this guy. He's bought this ketch rig motor-sailor. Sort of cross between a cabin cruiser and a proper yacht. Anyway he's asked me to sail the thing down to Med for him, Majorca somewhere and I'm looking for a second crewman to come with me. One of the guys in the yard was coming along, but he's dropped out; the job don't pay enough for him. I thought that if you wanted a change of scenery and I know you like pissing about in boats..."

"I'm interested, yeah. When do you need to know by?"

"Like yesterday, mate. I'm supposed to kick off next week."

I'm not sure how enthusiastic I sounded when he said that. There were still a couple of weeks of the season left to run.

-------------------------------

"But what about Lindsey?" Bev asked, when I mentioned the trip to her later.

"What about her, Bev? She had her chance at the wedding and she dragged that gink (geek) along with her."

"I think the boy should go if he wants, Bev; it'll be a new experience for him," George piped up from behind us somewhere.

"George, stay out of this please. Mack's become like a son to me and... Oh, I don't know, I think he really needs to sort things out with Lindsey before he does anything."

"Bev, it's been two years and Mack here is old enough to make his own decisions."

"Like you were when you asked Polly to marry you?" Bev threw back at George with an edge to her voice.

This was getting out of hand; I couldn't have Bev and George arguing over me.

"Stop it, you two. Look, Bev, I've appreciated everything that you've done for me, you giving me a job, and a home here when I needed. But... shit, I really don't think there's any chance that Lindsey and me are going to get back together."

"Are you sure, Mack?"

"I can't see it happening, Bev. I'll admit that I still miss her, but... well, as George just said, it's been over two years."

"Mack, you don't know. But George and I... well, when we were young, we were both pretty stupid. We were together for years until... well, we fell out over something bloody stupid, didn't we, George?"

George made a noise that I took to mean he agreed with Beverley.

"Well, like a couple of donuts, we tried to make each other jealous. I took up with the son of the man who owned the Willows and George took up with Polly. We both got jealous all right; even more than jealous, we got even angrier at each other. Then things got completely out of hand, we tried to out do each other. Eventually we ran into each other out by the old windmill; it had always been our special place and completely independently we'd both gone out there to think things over."

Beverley looked at George who put his arms around her.

"Mack, we saw each other and well... The next thing you know, we're rolling around on the grass together like we'd never been apart." Beverley kissed her husband. "But then it all went to shit on us. That night Polly told George that she was pregnant with Jean. This is a small and pretty conservative community, Mack; well, it was back then. If George hadn't married Polly, then he'd have never lived it down."

"Then I discovered that I was pregnant with the twins, so I married Tom. The point I'm making, Mack, is that George was always the love of my life and every bugger in town always knew it. And even Polly knew that George loved me; that's why we were always at loggerheads with each other. Mack, I'm pretty convinced that Lindsey's got under your skin like George has always been under mine. Two years or twenty years, it ain't going to make any difference. You'll never get over her, and from what people tell me, I very much doubt that she will ever get over you either."

Beverley and George stood there staring at me, waiting for me to say something in reply. It had taken some nerve for Bev to tell me how they'd buggered their lives up all those years ago. 

"I think that you may be right, Beverley. I can't seem to get her out of my system. I'll call her tomorrow evening when she gets home from work and then maybe drive down to town the next day if she really wants to talk."

"In the two years you've been here, that's the most sensible decision that you've made, Mack!" Beverley said, and then she kissed me on the cheek.

That night I lay in bed, still wondering whether I was doing the right thing by deciding to cut all the crap and call Lindsey. Eventually I decided we really did need to sit down and talk to each other no matter what had happened in the previous two years.

------------------------------------

As always in my life things didn't go as I'd planned. I got no answer from Lindsey's flat the following evening. Kind-of brought back memories of when I'd pretended to call Lindsey from my mother's house that day; perhaps fate was repaying me? I kept trying Lindsey's number most of the evening. It must have been gone eleven when I finally decided to call Julia to ask her if by any faint chance she knew where Lindsey was.

Julia sounded extremely excited when I told her why I'd called. She had no idea where Lindsey was and told me that she'd make some enquires and call me back.

"She's out of the country, Mack. I just spoke to Joan and she says that Lindsey has gone off with her cousin and her husband; you know Jeffrey the soldier. Joan thinks that they are over in America somewhere, but she has no idea exactly where; the west coast somewhere. Conway thinks he heard mention of San Francisco when they were planning the trip, but he couldn't be sure. They invited Lindsey to join them, to cheer her up after..."




Mack's Progress Ch. 07



"Yeah, don't say it, I know. Have you any idea when she's due back?"

"Joan thinks in about ten or twelve days, but it might be longer, apparently it was all very last minute. They flew out there last weekend."

"Surely someone must have an address out there, a hotel or something where they are staying, where I could call her."

"I'll try asking Lindsey's mother tomorrow, Mack. It's a bit late to call her tonight. I'm afraid you are not the flavour of the month with any of Lindsey's family, so I can't even tell her why I'm asking."

------------------------------------

"Sorry, Mack, you're out of luck. I found out that they are away for a month; driving around somewhere over there in one of those motor-home things. No one seems to have any way of getting in touch with them until they arrive in San Francisco in a couple of weeks time," Julia told when she called me back the following day.

"Bugger, I'm going to be gone by then."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"I've been invited to crew a yacht down to southern Spain. Then I was planning on spending the winter kicking around down there, unless Lindsey and I..." 

"Lindsey and you what...? Got back together? Christ, Mack, if Lindsey was to hear you say that, she'd be on her way up there tonight and I doubt you'd finish up sailing down to Spain."

"I've got no choice now, Julia; I've committed myself and we have to leave Lowestoft on Tuesday at the latest. Look, I'll see you tomorrow; I was coming down to town to say good-bye to everyone before I went anyway. I was planning on kicking around down that way for the winter."

"But what about Lindsey?"

"She ain't there, Julia, is she? I'd planned on talking to her before I went and well... I'd see how the land laid. But I'm not going to assume anything. I'll try and call when we get down there. Once Lindsey and I have talked on the telephone, I'll see how I feel then; in the mean time I'm not going to change my plans."

--------------------------------

I had a long chat with Bev about what my long term plans were. After asking if I was intending to return for the following season and I told her that was my plan, if she wanted me back. Bev insisted that I leave all the stuff I wasn't taking with me in my room.

My short two days in town went very well really. I suppose Julia had told everyone that I'd at last decided that Lindsey and I were going to sit down and talk things over properly; the only mention of Lindsey anyone made was my mother saying that it was a shame that she was away on holiday.

They threw a party at the Willows the night before I left. And Michelle joined me during the night for what was to be our last ever night together; she woke me in the morning with her crying. I felt like crying as well, Michelle held a place in my heart as I held a place in hers, but we both knew that we didn't really love each other.

----------------------------------

Tameron was a really nice little craft. Something just under fifty feet long, she didn't look like the racing yachts that I'd crewed on before. But she was the kind of boat that you could happily set off around the world in. I wondered whether there was going to be enough ventilation below decks for the hot summers in the Med, but that wasn't my problem.

Craig turned up at Lowestoft with two other guys. We were giving them a lift down to Brest, where they were picking up a bleeding great catamaran that they were sailing over to the Caribbean for its owner.

The run down the coast and through the Channel was in perfect sailing weather. Well, not racing weather but really good cruising weather for the Tameron; she slipped along very nicely. The four of us did hit the booze a bit though and when we finally got to Brest, Craig and I had to stock up again.

The bay took its reputation seriously giving us some stick and very little sleep. But the bad weather only lasted for about twenty-four hours, then things turned very nice again. Although we lost over a day when we joined in the search for a French fisherman who'd gone over board from his boat during the storm. We didn't find him but our two friends on the cat did.

When we'd left Brest they had disappeared over the horizon towards the Azores - their next port of call - like a bleeding greyhound in that cat of theirs and they'd left us in poor little Tameron standing. But they'd had teething problems with the new craft's rigging during the storm and had turned back to Brest for repairs. One of the guys had been up the mast trying to free whatever had jammed on them and he spotted the French guy in the water. There were ships and helicopters of all sizes looking for the guy and the boat that finds him wasn't actually taking part in the search.

We'd just resumed our course when Craig realised that they weren't very far way from us in the Cat, so we changed course and rendezvoused with them. The French Frigate that raced past us going to collect the fisherman from the Cat raced back past us less than twenty minutes later having collected him. Eventually we heaved to near each other, Craig went across to the cat and shimmied up her mast like a monkey, ten minutes later he had the problem fixed. He did try to explain it to me, but he lost me quite early on that one.

After that the Cat resumed its course and we resumed ours for Vigo in Spain, where we were planning a stopover for a day or so. I think it was about that time that I worked out Craig's master plan for these stopovers; he liked them to last at least two nights. As he'd done in Brest, the first night we'd gone out, Craig had got blind drunk. So drunk in fact that the bit of fluff he'd brought back to the Tameron - I thought - required him to have a pretty strong stomach. Whatever he shagged the arse off of it all the following day in the master cabin. Before going out with it and getting drunk yet again; but maybe just drunk enough that he didn't notice what a dog he'd picked up. He'd bed her for most of that night before kicking her off the boat before we sailed in the morning.

Then Craig would spend the next couple of days at sea -- storms and rescue searches permitting -- nipping below deck to check that his dick was still there and that it hadn't turned green or anything nasty like that.

I left Craig consuming far more of the local brew than was prudent in a bar in Vigo and went off to track down a telephone I could call home on... well, the Willows anyway. In the end I used the phone in a small, very questionable looking hotel. But the people there were very nice and extremely helpful; of course there is the chance that they had ripped me off on the cost of the call, but by then I was trying not to be a pessimist about people's intentions anymore.

When I got back to the bar there was no sign of Craig. I had a couple of beers before switching to the local cheap plonk and chatted with some Dutch people, who were also on their way to the Med with a yacht, or they might have been on the reverse journey. We did have a bit of a language problem or then again it could have been the effect that the cheap plonk was having on my brain. Around ten-ish - I think - I headed back to the Tameron to get a good night's sleep for a change.

God alone knows what time Craig returned, but I was awoken by one hell of a party going on in the main cabin, making sleep an impossibility. I struggled back into my shorts after deciding that I'd might as well join the party, as I lay there listening to it. Besides I was wondering what kind of dog Craig had picked up this time. I was sure I could hear German voices; although it could have been my Dutch friends, one of them was a real cracker. 

In the cockpit I found two Americans: one female and giving a blowjob to her male companion. He said hi, she never missed a beat. Down in the cabin there were four more American girls, one other American guy who was sitting there with his arm around one of two German guys. And a very pissed Craig who was in the arms of a grand mother, by the looks of things. I never did discover what nationality she was.

Am I being fair there? Well, I doubt it; Craig's bit of stuff was just a few years older than the four American girls. They only looked about eighteen at first glance. It was as I was debating this fact with myself that one of the American girls who'd had her back to me turned around to see who'd entered the cabin and that's when the world stopped turning!

The girl looked up into my eyes and I saw the stars in hers. One look from that girl and all thoughts of Lindsey or any other girl I'd ever known in my life were banished from my mind.

"You must be Mack. My names Codi!" she said, the sound of her voice being like music to my ears. "Craig's been telling us all about you."

"Nothing defamatory, I hope?" I replied.

"No, mate, I wouldn't do that to you. I was just telling them that you're the greatest stud in the whole of East Anglia."

I gave Craig a questioning look and wondered what the hell he'd said to these folks about me.

"Come on, Mack, surely you don't expect us to believe that you lived in the pub with three of the most fuckable chicks in the county and you didn't lay a one of the buggers. I know they all had smiles on their faces after you turned up there anyway."

"Craig!" I said. I wasn't sure how to shut him up without confirming or denying his accusation but I didn't get the chance.

"Anyway your performance with them three chicks from the Midlands has become legend around the village."

"What the fuck are you raving on about now, Craig?" I demanded.

"Those three chicks you took care of on the boat last summer," Craig explained.

I still had no idea what he was talking about and it must have showed in my face.

"Some of the lads were walking down to the Willows one night and they spy's this cruiser that they know three little darlings have hired. They crept up and sneaked a peek through one of the windows, hoping they might catch them changing or something. What they got was a grandstand view of Mack the super stud giving all three of the girls the biggest seeing to that they'd probably ever had in their lives."

"What? They watched us?"

"From the way I hear it told, you were bloody lucky none of the boys had a video camera on them or you'd be a Dutch porn star by now mate. Haven't you ever noticed how the guys all get nervous when you talk to their girlfriends? Word is that you're really something in bed, and half the girls in the village would give their right arm to get a chance with you. That's a point, mate; how come you've never taken any of them up on their offers?"

The subject was off of my girls at the Willows, so I relaxed a little. "There's an old saying Craig, 'never shit on your own doorstep'." 

"Explains a lot, but how did you manage to keep your hands off those tits of Millie's? I know I'd die for a chance at those buggers."

"Phil's a big guy, Craig!"

"Yeah, he is, isn't he? Self preservation, I suppose."

"That always has to be added into the equation, if you want to live a long life." I smiled back at him.

I was pleased with how a conversation that had started so badly for me had quietly turned itself around. Craig would completely pooh-pooh any suggestion that anything untoward had ever happened between my girls and me, when he returned to the village.

I was glad when Craig then stopped talking and returned to snogging his slut, who'd he'd been blatantly feeling up during all of the brief conversation. It meant that I could get on with chatting with Codi; no one else in the cabin held any interest for me.

I grabbed two bottles of beer from the sink that was serving as an ice bucket, flipped the top off of one and held it out to Codi. She smiled and took it from me, standing up at the same time. This I took as an invitation, flipped the top off of my bottle, turned around and climbed the few stairs into the cockpit; as I'd hoped that she would, Codi followed me.

"Jees, Marge, couldn't you find somewhere a little less public?" Codi said to the still bobbing head of the girl, as she followed me out of the cockpit and around onto Tameron's foredeck, where we settled ourselves on the roof of the cabin."

"And what brings a nice girl like you to this god forsaken neck of the woods?" I asked Codi once we were comfortably seated.

"I got fed up with college and decided to take a year touring the hot spots of Europe," she replied, with a sarcastic tone to her voice.

"Really?" I asked.

Codi took a swig of her beer and then looked right into my eyes. "Truth?" she asked. 

"I should hope so?"

"I 'was' over here trying to forget a man."

"Was?" I replied, picking up on the emphasis she'd placed on the word.

"Oh, yeah, very much was." She smiled at me. "I do believe that I might have met someone today who's going to banish him from my memory forever." 

"I wonder who that could possibly be?" I smiled back.

Now, I know that some folks will say that there ain't no such thing as love at first sight. Well, maybe they are right; maybe it's the lust that hits you first. I knew from the moment Codi and my eyes first met that I wanted this woman more than anything else I'd ever wanted in my life before. What's more I'd read in her eyes that she wanted me as well.

Who actually kissed who first? I have no idea. I can't even tell you how long it was before we adjourned from the foredeck to the privacy of my cabin. I do remember sliding into her for the first time though and I remember every sound that she made as well. Every word of encouragement that she whispered into my ear!

It was a long night. The interesting thing was that we'd drift off to sleep only to be woken by Craig's slut screaming encouragement at him in the adjoining cabin. That had the effect of starting Codi and me off again. Well, I don't think we needed encouragement, we just needed to be woken from our exhausted slumber.

I have no idea what time it was when I made my way into the main cabin to put some coffee on in the galley area. Codi was dead to the world and no sound was coming from the other rear cabin where Craig had been entertaining his slut. Sorry but I'd only seen the guy with two women on this trip; they had both looked and behaved like complete sluts to me, letting him blatantly feel them up in front of all and sundry.

The main cabin - or saloon I suppose you would call it - was a multi-purpose area. It contained the sitting and eating area, with the galley in one corner. The table of the dining area folded either away, or down to make the seats flanking it into a double bed. Craig and I had not bothered converting it during the cruise. But apparently someone else had during the night and the girl Marge and one of the other American girls was stretched out on it, both stark naked. There appeared to be no one else left on the craft. God knows who'd shagged the pair of them, but someone obviously had; come to that, I should imagine several people had.

I must have woken Marge and the other girl clearing enough room in the sink to fit the kettle under the drinking water tap.

"What's the time?" one of them asked.

"No idea, girl, and I don't very much care," I replied, probably a little off-handedly.

"Have you seen Codi?" Marge asked.

"Yeah, she's asleep in my cabin."

"Ooh, she got to try the stud out, did she? Trust Codi. Are you as good in bed as Craig says you are?" the other girl asked

"I wouldn't know, girl, but I've never had any complaints."

"Wanna show me what you can do?" Marge asked.

"You got to be kidding, girl. How many guys did you screw during the night?"

"I'm not sure. Dick and the two Germans, I think," Marge replied with a straight face.

"And that guy from the bar last night. He had you against the wall in that alley; I saw you," the other girl reminded her.

"Oh, yeah, and a Spaniard at the bar," Marge added.

"And did you take any kind of precautions against disease with any of them? This is a sea port, you know; you could pick up just about anything around here."

"Oh, don't be an old stick in the mud? Did you take any precautions with Codi?" Marge replied.

"Yes, he did actually and you should know me better than that, Marge," Codi's voice came from the cabin door way. "How's that coffee going, Mack, or are you making English tea?"

"Coffee, very strong and very black. How do you like yours?"

"I'll have some cream, if you've got any."

"Powdered."

"Make it black then, please."

Eventually Codi told the other two to put some clothes on, which they did after I showed them how the shower worked. Then Codi and I managed to squeeze in there together; that led us into another session in my cabin and when we came out again the other two girls had gone.

Craig and his tart still hadn't showed by the time Codi and I went out to find something to eat. After that we went to the cheap hotel Codi was staying in to retrieve her backpack; apparently Codi was travelling light.

I really don't think anything was actually said; it just seemed to be the natural thing to do for Codi to join the Tameron for the rest of the trip. She sat all of my watches with me and we spent most of the rest of the time either sunbathing together or making out below.

I learnt that Codi had been in college on the East Coast of the States somewhere. She did say the name of the place but I can't recall it now; she also led me to believe that it was a bleeding expensive place to study. Not that I took that much notice. She'd actually followed her school sweetheart to the college; apparently they'd sworn undying love to each other when they were quite young. Everything had been a rose garden until that spring when she'd discovered the bugger shagging her flatmate one afternoon.

There had been an altercation and Codi had jumped on the next plane home. Her parents were just about to depart for a vacation in Paris; Codi decided to join them. In Paris she'd met up with Marge - who was backpacking around Europe with the other girls - outside a café near the Eiffel Tower. On a whim and very much against her Judge father's wishes, Codi had joined the little band of female travellers and several months later met up with a very drunk, mad English guy in a bar in Vigo and finished up in my bed.

To tell you the truth I forgot all about phoning Lindsey when we got to Gibraltar. I didn't actually phone back to anyone in the UK, but I did send out a lot of postcards, as I had done from Brest, Vigo and Lisbon. I did the same thing when we finally arrived at Palma and handed the boat over to its owner. 

Craig flew straight home from there, I believe. Codi and I stuck around on the island for a few days, then took the ferry to Ibiza; then a few days later, another ferry to Alicante. There we finally found jobs in an English bar; the jobs came with a small room in a flat in the block above the bar.

We worked at the bar for a couple of weeks. I don't think either of us enjoyed the work very much but we enjoyed our off duty time together. I think it was one rainy morning in the bar, when Codi and I decided to move along the coast. Over the next month or so we slowly hopped from one coastal town to the next until we found ourselves in Nice. It was in Nice that we met an English guy who owned several large ski chalets in the Alps. He offered Codi and me the job of looking after one of them for the ski season.

It wasn't very good money and you had to nursemaid some of the guests, but you could get plenty of skiing in most days; not that I had ever skied before I got there, but Codi spent many hours teaching me how to. The other plus was that we had use of an old Citroen car.

I sent postcards to everyone back home regularly and I mentioned Codi in them. I was surprised that when I received a couple of letters back, from Julia and Beverley they didn't ask any questions about Codi at all. I would have thought both those two nosy women would have been curious about my relationship with Codi but they never even commented when I sent them some pictures of Codi and me together.




Mack's Progress Ch. 07



We'd given up on the French Letters when we'd been in Alicante; Codi seemed to have a never ending supply of birth control pills hidden away somewhere. We'd both assured each other that we were clear of any sexual diseases, which turned out to be true. Codi said that she hadn't been as promiscuous as the other girls in the back packing party and I believed her. Often she claimed that she found their outrageous behaviour embarrassing most of the time.

"You were quick enough to jump into my bed," I pointed out to her one evening.

"You were different than the other guys," she replied.

"Oh, in what way?" I asked.

"Well, Craig was doing a lot of talking. And he said for a guy with the stud reputation that you have, you were avoiding women like the plague. I figured that he had you wrong and you were shy or something. Then you walked into that cabin and my heart nearly jumped into my throat, I just knew that you were the guy I was going to marry. So I threw caution to the wind; I figured that I had one night to get my hooks into you."

"Well, you hooked me, girl, there's no mistake about that." 

By Christmas Codi and I were discussing where and when we were going to get married. Whether we should wed in Indiana or in the UK; eventually the decision was made to marry in the UK. Codi's extended family was much smaller than mine and she thought that they would nearly all be able to afford the airfare. Whereas I doubted many of my family could afford to fly to the US for the occasion.

By the middle of January Codi's father had sent us open tickets back to the States. Having talked to the guy several times on the phone, I gathered he was chaffing at the bit to meet his future son. Although I'm not sure that he was that enamoured about my profession in the UK. Codi and I were planning on trying for a pub tenancy somewhere in the UK after we were married.

Those months that Codi and were together I was in a different world to the one I'd lived in most of my life. When I had Lindsey I hadn't had a satisfying sex life. When I'd been at the Willows my sex life had been out of this world but I hadn't had anyone to really love. With Codi I had it all, the love of a beautiful woman, who also turned out to be as crazy about sex as Millie was.

Codi told me that she and her boyfriend had sex regularly, but she claimed she'd only learnt to really enjoy sex in all its connotations after we'd got together. From the odd comment she made her sex life with her ex sounded a little repressed to me. But then who was I to talk? I'd had a completely repressed sex life with Lindsey.

Late February and the end of the skiing season was in sight. Codi and I were trying to organise our flight to the States so that I could meet her family, when a letter came from Beverley asking me whether I was planning on returning to the Willows for the season. I hadn't got around to replying when my life turned to shit again.

End of chapter 07



Mack's Progress Ch. 08



Late February and the end of the skiing season was in sight. Codi and I were trying to organise our flight to the States so that I could meet her family, when a letter came from Beverley, asking me whether I was planning on returning to the Willows for the season. I hadn't got around to replying, when my life turned to shit again.

They were all but the last booking for the chalet. They booked up rather late really and Codi and I didn't know they were coming until the night before they arrived. We'd been looking forward to an easy week to ourselves.

They were supposedly travelling incognito and I was uncomfortable with their presence from the moment they stepped out of their car. Thespians, my mother would have called them; Wankers, I prefer to call them. As a matter of fact I shall refer to one in particular as the Wanker so that I can't be sued if anyone recognises my description of the bugger.

There were two women; one I was to learn was a model-come-actress or rather she was a want to be actress. The other was a medico pop singer who got a couple of crap songs into the lower end of the charts and who'd also turned to acting and made several films. I think her main claim to fame with the films was that she was quite happy to bare all for the camera, if it was artistically important to the script. Well, that's what she'd told the reporter in the one interview I'd see her do on the TV; I'd never actually seen any of her films.

Of the two guys, one was one of those faces that we all know from the TV and films. A regular supporting actor who's face everyone can recall having seen somewhere but who's name was always too far down the cast list for us to remember reading. And then there was the Wanker. Yep, you've all seen him a few times and you'd know his face anywhere. About twenty-eight or thirty he has a very young -- and I suppose handsome -- face. At that time he tended to play romantic young leads; teenagers even, well below his actual age.

Their main topic of conversation -- beside self-adulation -- appeared to be staying out of sight of the paparazzo. Although I sensed a certain amount of disappointment in them, that the press - or any fans - hadn't discovered their little hideaway. Their extremely high profile behaviour around the ski slopes ensured that that situation didn't remain that way for very long. Not that many people hung around out side the chalet very much unless the Wanker was in the house. Then a small crowd of fans would hang around at the end of the chalet's short driveway, hoping to get the Wanker's autograph or a picture of him.

The thing that really upset me was that I immediately recognised that Codi was in awe of our celebrity guests. Me, I figured that they were a crowd of wanker's who had far too high an opinion of themselves. Fuck me; if they were anything special, then they wouldn't have been staying in our little fleapit of a ski chalet.

I'll admit that they didn't come over as all high and mighty with me, although they loved to play to the gallery whenever one was available. What I didn't like was Codi's behaviour around the Wanker, and the fact that she talked about him nearly all the time. It was obvious to me that she equated him personally with some of the characters he'd played in films. One thing I knew for sure was that he must have used plenty of stunt doubles and maybe a few body doubles in his films. 

The geezer was a cack-handed, bleeding wimp as far as I was concerned and I definitely didn't like the way he looked at Codi sometimes or the way I'd caught him quietly talking to her alone a couple of times.

They'd been there about four days when by chance I was coming down from upstairs and I overheard the wanker telling his sycophantic friend in the lounge, "fuck the arse off of that little tart before we leave here," was all I heard him say. But as he was sleeping every night with his high profile wife, I could think of no reason for him to say those words about her. The Model was his friend's regular bed partner, so I doubted that he was talking about her either. That only left Codi as his intended target, as far as I could see. 

"Codi, I do believe that your new film star friend is intent on adding your name to those notches on his belt!" I told her in bed that evening.

"Mack, do you really think that I would do that to you?" she replied.

"Codi, I don't think that you would intentionally do anything like that, but you are a little infatuated with the bugger." 

"Oh, don't be so silly. I think he's a great actor and I'm very happy to have met him personally. But... well, I love you; I wouldn't do anything to put our relationship in any danger. Trust me please?"

"Well, there, that's our problem, Codi, isn't it? Trusting people. And remember that you trusted your ex back in the States as well, didn't you?"

"Mack, I'm disappointed in you. How could you even think that I'd do such a thing?" The look on Codi's face was one of disappointment.

"Codi, I've come to the conclusion that I can't tell what anyone could do in the right circumstances. I'm not a mind reader; I can only take people by my perception of their actions. I don't believe that you'd intentionally jump into the guy's bed," a horrified expression came over Codi's face. "But then I have to take into account that he's acted the part of seducer in several of his films. I would hazard to suggest that he could remember his lines very well."

"I'm sorry I don't understand what you're trying to say?" Codi said, looking confused.

"I'm just warning you to watch yourself around that bugger, Codi. He might be more adept with the old charm than you realise!"

With that the conversation ended with Codi sulking for a while. I felt Codi was annoyed with me for suggesting that she might fall for the Wanker's charms.

--------------------------------

I'd seen a lot since I'd first moved to the Willows. As a barman you find that you study people and the way they behave quite closely. I'd watched many a hopeful young stud holidaymaker trying to seduce Pat and Michelle, and some female holidaymakers, not counting some of the other girls from the village as well. I thought by then that I could read the buggers intentions like a bloody book. And I was pretty sure that the Wanker was after my girl.

After breakfast the following morning I came in with a basket of logs for the fire, to see the Wanker standing at the bottom of the stairs, plainly blocking any further advance that Codi could make down them. They were talking but I didn't hear what he was saying to Codi or her reply. The instant he became aware of my presence he stepped aside to allow Codi to pass.

Codi gave me what I can only describe as a nervous look and continued on her way into the kitchen.

That night after the evening meal both of the male guests were in the lounge together as I was making up the open fire. None of the females were present; I believe they were upstairs changing. So I thought I'd take the opportunity of warning the bugger off.

"You know something? There's some blokes who get very attached to their women. Do you understand what I'm getting at?" I said, turning from the fire to look at them with a large log in my hand.

"Sorry, Mack, I'm afraid you've lost me there, my friend?" the Wanker replied.

"I was just pointing out that some folks tend to turn violent if anyone trespasses on what they consider their territory."

"Mack, if you're trying to insinuate that I would lay a hand on Codi, I find it insulting. I'm a married man, remember?"

"I remember, but I have to wonder how good your memory is on occasions. You seem to find a lot to talk about with Codi."

"Oh, this morning! I was just complimenting her on the wonderful breakfast she'd prepared, that's all. Don't worry, my friend, she told all about your marriage plans."

"I'll bet she has," I said as I left the room. My anger would not let me stay in there with them any longer. The Wanker had had a mocking expression on his face during the short conversation.

That night in bed I brought the subject up again with Codi. "What was the Wanker saying to you on the stairs this morning?" I asked her.

"Well, he was just complimenting me on the breakfast, that's all."

"And was that all he complimented you on?"

"Mack, you're acting very paranoid lately. I'm not sure that I like it. But no, he complimented me on how nice I looked again. He always does that almost everyday. He's just being nice, that's all; he doesn't mean anything by it. I find it quite flattering, having a film star telling me how beautiful I am. You know XXXX (name removed for legal reasons) says I've got the looks to be an actress."

"Jesus, Codi, the guy's a bleeding slime ball. Can't you see it? Haven't you ever heard of the casting couch? I tell you the guy's after getting into your knickers before the week's out."

"He'll be out of luck then, won't he? You're my man, you know that!"

"But does he, Codi?"

"Oh, give over and kiss me, Mack, before I loose my temper with you."

---------------------------------

The following morning at breakfast the Wanker asked me if I'd book them a table for dinner that night at a restaurant at the other end of the valley. They even invited Codi and me to join them for the meal.

Their plan was to spend the whole day skiing from the top of one lift to the bottom of the next. They'd work their way slowly down the valley to the restaurant at the far end; it was not an unusual thing for our guests to do.

This pleased me some, because that day I was heading over to the other side of the valley to another of our employer's chalets. That chalet was closing for the season and I'd been asked to run the couple who'd been managing it to the airport.

Codi was going to accompany me, but when we heard our guests were going to be away all day, she changed her mind. We still had another booking for the following week, and there was some preparation that we hadn't found time to do. The party was larger and the rooms that hadn't been used recently would have to be prepared for them, as they tended to get a little damp smelling when they were closed up all the time.

I dropped the guests at the lift and then went back to have a coffee with Codi before setting off for the other chalet. Codi came out to kiss me good-bye, told me to be careful on the road and that she loved me. Standard procedure for when I went off somewhere in that old Citroen.

As I came out of the other chalet with the couple that I was taking to the airport, the French taxi driver we always used pulled up and signalled me over to have a word. We tended to use the same driver all the time and we knew that we could rely on him to pick our clients up late at night from the nightspots around the village and the valley. In return we got a kick back from him - in the form of a free trip - whenever Codi and I went out drinking.

He seemed perturbed that one of the other drivers had been booked to pick up at our chalet at one o'clock and take a fare to a ski lift halfway down the valley.

"Javier, lend me those binoculars that you carry in your taxi," I demanded.

Javier's English was as about as good as my French, but we usually appeared to understand each other. He didn't ask me why I wanted them; he just pulled them from the glove box and handed them to me. I trained them on our chalet across the other side of the valley. Sure enough there were several of the Wanker's regular fans and a couple of photographers standing in the road outside the chalet. That could only mean one thing: the Wanker was in there with Codi.

I handed the binoculars back to Javier, asked him to drive my friends to the airport, and agreed to pay the fare. Then I climbed into the old Citroen and took off at breakneck speed - considering the road conditions -- back across the valley.

I didn't pull into our own chalet's drive, but into the drive of the empty chalet next door, then set out across the snow for the rear door of our own one.

Entering as quietly as I could, I found the ground floor deserted, as were the clients' two bedrooms. Eventually I realised that I could hear noises coming from one of the rooms that Codi was supposed to be changing the linen on and airing out.

Gently trying the door handle, I found the room locked. Someone had thought they'd made sure that they wouldn't be disturbed in a hurry; but I had the master key on my ring.

Codi was on her back on the bed, her knickers and jeans still hanging from her left ankle which, like her right, was pointing up at the ceiling. Between Codi's legs was the Wanker shagging Codi as hard as he knew how.

I do believe Codi actually saw me a second before my fist made its first attempt to fuck that pretty face of the Wanker's up good and proper. I'm sure that he was completely unaware of what had hit him or where the blow had come from.

For a few seconds he lay on the floor where he'd landed, obviously trying to work out what the fuck had just happened. Then his eyes focused and he saw me standing there. 

For a few seconds, I watched as his mind scrolled through the few options he had available to him. He dared to take a quick look at Codi, I suppose to see if she was intending to try to have any influence on the situation.

He was wasting his time. Codi who hadn't uttered a sound since she'd spotted me, was trying to do a balancing act on the headboard of the bed. I do believe that she was trying to get physically as far away from both of us as she possibly could in that room.

I watched the Wanker grab hold of his trousers that were down around his knees; he'd obviously been in a hurry to get started and hadn't bothered to remove them. The muscles of his chest rippled when he tried to pull them up as he struggled to his feet; the only way out of that room was past me and he was well aware of the fact by then. 

I had to admit that he did have an impressive chest on him. I'd seen it many times during the week he'd been in residence; because he was proud of his physique and liked to show it off, even going outside to sign the fans autographs bare-chested sometimes. The thought crossed my mind that he must have removed his shirt before he'd tracked Codi down in the room she'd been preparing, probably to impress her.

I know it sounds strange to say it, but then things got slightly comical to my mind; the guy was an actor and he began to act his bleeding heart out.

Maybe that's what made me realise that for all his muscles I wasn't going to have any trouble handling him; luckily for him really, because I didn't have to resort to any emergency measures.

On his feet at last he took up a marshal arts stance and made some inane comment, which struck me as so funny that I honestly can't tell you how I managed not to laugh out loud. The familiar line he used was a famous one from one of his films. I Should imagine it was the line that was the cue for his body double stuntman to takeover and take part in the actual fighting.

"I warn you, I'm a black..." he began to add.

"I don't give a fuck what you claim to be, arsehole. You don't scare me in the slightest. Let's see if you can cut the mustard when you ain't play fighting on a fucking film set, shall we?"

"I'll warn you, if you hurt me, I'll sue you for every penny you have."

"That's handy because I'm fucking broke. Come on, shit-face, show me what a black belt can do."

Actually he did land a couple of real doozies, but I landed a fuck sight more than he did, and in the end he rolled up into a ball on the floor and actually begged me to stop hitting him.

I'd made my point and there wasn't much sense in going to jail over the fucker, or Codi come to that. I took one more, quick look at Codi who was still balancing on the bed's headboard and walked out of the room.

Half way down the stairs I met the couple who were supposed have been flying home to the UK, on their way up. They'd decided that whatever had made me take off like I did, just had to be investigated. 

I poured myself a large drink and settled myself at the kitchen table, to await whatever ramifications were to come. A few minutes later Javier came in and took a seat opposite me. I pushed the bottle of Scotch in his direction but he refused it and grabbed an open bottle of wine and a glass from the side counter.

"With Codi?" he asked.

"Yep!" I replied.

"You hurt him bad?"

"Fucked if I care, Javier."

"Women!" Javier replied, with one of his usual shrugs. Then we both sat there in silence drinking our chosen poison.

I have no idea who called the doctor or the police, but they both turned up and Javier and my friends from the other chalet dealt with them. The doctor came to look at me a little later, all the time jabbering away to Javier so fast that I couldn't understand a word he said. He shone a torch in my eyes and waved a pen in front of them as well, then apparently satisfied that I was going to live, he poured himself a glass of wine and left the kitchen. But not before giving me the thumbs up sign and a pat on the back.

A little later a police officer entered the kitchen and took a seat beside Javier, who promptly poured him a glass of the same plonk as he himself had been drinking. Javier indicated that the bottle was empty and I indicated to the cupboard where he could retrieve another bottle.

Then followed what must have been one of the strangest police interviews ever recorded, where Javier answered almost all of the questions although he had little or no idea of what had actually taken place in that bedroom. But the words "crime passionnel" were bandied about almost as freely as the glasses of plonk were consumed. Then the police officer left after shaking my hand and babbling something in French, which I could make neither head nor tale of.

Exactly when the Wanker's tart arrived back at the chalet, I have no idea. Nor do I have any idea how she found out that I'd kicked the shit out of her loving(?) husband. She came into the kitchen to see me and seemed more concerned that the incident didn't become tomorrow's headlines in the newspapers than anything else; that included the fact that her husband had been unfaithful to her.

"What are you going to do about Codi?" she finally asked me.

"Nothing. Its over!" I replied.

"But it wasn't her fault. You know he's an arsehole. He can be very persuasive when he wants to be."

"I warned her what he was planning and she didn't listen. What we had is gone. Why the hell do you put up with that kind of behaviour?"

"In a word, Mack, money. Have you any idea how much that magazine paid for exclusive photographic rights to our wedding. No, well, I'll tell you, three million. There's just one reason I'm married to the little shit and that's publicity and the cash it puts into my bank accounts. In a year or so we'll separate, very publicly, of course, and we'll both do the talk show rounds on the strength of it. And, of course, reap the financial rewards that come with that publicity."

"A bit hypocritical, isn't it?" I said.

"It's all about cash, Mack. I'm sorry, I know that you loved Codi, try to forgive her please."

"Not going to happen, XXX. I'm not made that way."

I'm sorry, Mack; I should have known the bugger was up to something when he said he'd twisted his ankle this morning. He didn't look in enough pain to me."

She didn't say good-bye; she just got up and walked out of the kitchen. Five minutes later Javier returned and told me all four guests had left in another taxi. I asked him why he hadn't driven them and he explained with some difficulty - I said neither of us were good with each others language -- that he didn't act as chauffer to his friend's enemies.

Then Javier cracked open his third bottle of plonk that afternoon, and poured me a glass, after placing the bottle of Scotch out of my reach. I looked up at him as he did so.




Mack's Progress Ch. 08



"Demain est un autre jour et la vie doit continuer," he said, smiling at me. I still have no idea what it means; then he left the room again.

"Can I come in, Mack?" Codi's voice asked nervously from the doorway.

"You've as much right to be in here as I have," I replied.

"You won't turn violent or anything?"

I turned to look at her; she quite obviously had spent most of the afternoon crying; I could see that by her puffy red eyes.

"Did I raise a hand to you when I was angry earlier?" I asked.

"No, but you made a mess of...."

"Don't say his name!" I cut her off.

"I'm sorry, Mack, I have no idea what came over me."

"You don't! Well, I do! I knew what was going to happen the first evening he was here. I watched the way you drooled over his every word; he had you running around like a tit with your knickers on fire. You were so overawed that a so-called celebrity was paying you compliments that you could hardly contain yourself. He knew he'd get you, I knew he'd get you. Fucking hell, even that tart he's married to knew he had every intention of shagging you."

"I warned you what the prick was after, and you swore blind to me that he wouldn't succeed. But that was a lie, wasn't it, Codi; you had every intention of submitting to him. You couldn't pass up the chance to shag a fucking film star, could you? And you thought that I'd be none the wiser. You told him I'd be gone for most of the morning. Didn't you think that I'd get suspicious when you decided that airing the rooms was more important than coming to the airport with me."

"I'm sorry, Mack. Is there any chance that you'll forgive me?"

"Yeah, Codi, I'll forgive you. But it's of no consequence; I no longer have any intention of marrying you. I couldn't go through life wondering when the next film or pop star was going to catch your eye."

Codi began to cry again then turned and left the room. I poured myself another glass of that crap plonk and knocked it back.

Shortly Javier returned again, looked at the almost empty bottle and recovered yet another from the wine cupboard.

"Jesus, Javier, are you still here? Haven't you got a home to go to?"

"I cannot leave my friends at this sad time!" he replied in the plainest English that I'd ever heard him use.

"Thanks, Javier," I said.

Then he went on to tell me that Codi had asked him to drive her to the station in the morning. She was catching a train to Paris and a plane from there back to the States. He waited but I made no comment.

Shortly our two friends came in and after some discussion they agreed to run Codi and my chalet until it closed for the year. Then I went up to our room and packed my bag. I noticed that all Codi's stuff was gone; I assumed that she had moved it into another room and was sleeping in there.

Throwing my rucksack on my shoulder, I went down and asked Javier if he'd mind driving me into Lyon. He just shrugged and got to his feet. I said good-bye to my two friends, handed them the keys to the chalet; then Javier and I left the chalet for good. 

It was many years before I laid eyes on Codi again.

End of chapter eight.



Mack's Progress Ch. 09



It was a long way to Lyon, but when we eventually got there Javier adamantly refused any payment for the trip. I had no idea how the train timetable ran so I was taking potluck. I'd chosen to set off from Lyon because that way my starting point would be much further down the line than Cody's so I had it figured I'd be well ahead of her; that way there was little chance of us running into each other during the journey.

Javier stayed at the station with me until the first train to Paris arrived and when it did, he wished me a safe journey the way only a Frenchman could another male. Somewhat embarrassing for my repressed English character to get accustomed to.

The express train took me directly to Paris, where I jumped on the Euro-Star to Waterloo. Then it was the underground system to the station closest to my parent's house where, I'm pleased to say, I was received like the prodigal son.

I noted that my father took a quick look up and down the road, as if he was expecting someone -- I assumed Codi -- to be with me; but if it was, he made no comment concerning her absence. It was embarrassingly obvious to me that all of my family avoided mentioning or asking questions about Codi at all though. At the time I assumed that there was something about my demeanour that told them that Codi was history; whatever she was not mentioned by anyone. 

It was to be sometime before I worked out the reason she was never mentioned, and I've chosen to never broach the subject with any of them.

Julia arrived at the house shortly after I had and I got the distinct impression that she'd turned up especially to see me. But that idea I had trouble understanding, because even if someone had called her the second I'd arrived at the house to tell her that I was home, she hadn't had the time to drive over from her own house.

All the family appeared to have assumed -- correctly -- that I'd stopped off to see them on my way back to the Willows.

"Have you called Bev to let her know that you're coming?" my mother asked.

The familiar name that my mother used for Beverley didn't really surprise me. I was well aware by then that the two women had been in regular contact with each other for years. Later I learnt that my parents had been up to stay with Bev and George for a few days, more than once, while I'd been away.

"No, I figured that I'd surprise everyone up there, like I did you lot," I replied. "Bev wrote me a letter last week and invited me back for the season so I planned on just turning up."

"You don't know then?" my father asked.

"Know what?" I replied, but before my father could say anything further my mother cut him off.

"No, father, it's Beverley's surprise; don't you dare go interfering!"

My dad clammed up after that and no matter how much I pushed him; he wouldn't elaborate on the comment he'd made. He just gave me the kind of smile that he had always reserved for my eldest brother in the past. I'm not sure how to describe it, but for once in my life I got the idea that my father was proud of me. Pride was something that I had never known him show where I was concerned before. Considering what a fuck up I'd made of just about everything in my life up to that point, I had some trouble understanding that smile.

That night as a family, we all went out for a meal together, after which some heavy drinking took place. It might sound odd - and I got a few strange looks from the family of beer drinkers - but I found myself drinking quite a bit of wine during the evening, a habit that I'd picked up in France. Although it was nice to get back to some decent beer for a change.

I know that I consumed a little more than I usually did and I'd been mixing my drinks a lot more than is prudent, but it was a family celebration after all. Anyway even in my inebriated state, I did feel that there was something not quite normal about the atmosphere and almost every one of my relatives' behaviour. They obviously asked me about my travels, but not one of them ever mentioned Codi by name. As a matter of fact not one of them mentioned her at all, unless I related a story to them. 

Not that I was going into any detail about what had happened in the previous few days. I figured I'd let them assume I'd returned to the country because of the letter Beverley had sent me, asking me if I was returning to the pub for the season. After the way I'd fucked things up so completely with Lindsey and got everything all arse about face, I could just imagine what they'd make of me telling them that Codi had done the dirty on me. Can you imagine it? 'Mack's cried Wolf again!'

The other strange thing that for some time I was to have some difficulty understanding was that Lindsey's name didn't crop up in conversation either. For any of my relatives to talk to me for more than ten minutes without Lindsey's name being slipped into the conversation eventually had been very out of character for all of them for some years. In the end I figured that they were trying to keep the whole of my debacle with Lindsey and, possibly women in general, out of the conversation.

By coincidence later on some of my old mates turned up in the pub that we'd ensconced ourselves in, and they joined the party. 

By an even greater coincidence, one of my mate's sisters worked in the same office building as Lindsey. Consequently later -- and I never did understand why - when I found myself standing at the next urinal to his, I found myself dropping a question that I really didn't intend to; well, consciously anyway.

"Cathy still work with Lindsey?" I asked, wishing that I hadn't asked even as the words were coming out of my mouth.

"No, mate, as I heard it Lindsey threw the job in last year. About the time you went sailing, I believe."

"Oh, do you know what happened to her?" I still couldn't understand why I persisted in asking him about her.

"Ain't got the faintest idea, Mack; Meg and Lindsey never were too pally. I think Meg said that she went back down Bristol way, where her parents live, but I can't be sure. To be honest I never took much notice when Meg mentioned it; I know Lindsey hasn't got that flat of hers anymore though. A guy from my office lives there now. Why, what's up, you missing her?"

"No, not really Nick." I lied, "Just curious about what happened to her, that's all."

"I hear tell you shacked yourself up with a right little babe out in Spain," he commented. "American, weren't she?"

Just where Nick had heard about Codi from, I had no idea, but from his statement it was apparent that her existence was common knowledge. I wondered how the word had gotten around.

"Yeah, we had a good thing going there for a while. But how come you know about her?"

"Can't remember exactly who told me, Mack. Christ, you know how the rumour mill works, mate. Supposed to be American and a real looker, so the story went. But then, you always did manage to hook the good-looking birds. Never could understand why; it ain't like you're no oil painting or nothin'," he jibed.

"Codi could take your breath away when she put a bikini on, I can promise you that," I replied, trying as hard as I could to put a convincing smile on my face. 

I really didn't want to discuss Codi with anyone, but I couldn't let on that she'd shit all over me to my friends, so I had to act casually about her; as if I didn't really care.

"What happened to her?" he enquired.

"Ah, she's gone back to the States. She was only over in Europe on a gap year from college."

Now that wasn't really an untruth. Codi had been intending to return to college, until we'd started talking about marriage. Now that I was out of the picture, I thought that it was safe to assume that she'd return to her original plan. It would also cover my arse quite nicely in the rumour mill.

"You going back to that Pub of yours up on the Broads, Mack?"

"Yeah, that's the basic plan."

"I heard that you were the manager there. How come you got the time off to go gallivanting around the Med?"

"Nah, I was just a barman, but I enjoyed myself working there." 

"Well, if you can live on the money, that's what you really want; a job that you enjoy doing. Shit, I hate getting up most mornings when all I've got to look forward to is that fucking office. Wish I had the guts to do what you did and just chuck it all in and find a job I enjoyed doing; even if the money was crap. But I'm getting married come September, so I can't afford the indulgence. Fuck it, can't even afford to go sea fishing anymore!"

By that time we were re-entering the noisy bar, so the conversation abruptly ended. Much to my relief, if I'm being honest.

-----------------------------

Two days later and after a very early start; I climbed off the mid-morning bus in the village. Several folks who saw me, gave me a cheery wave of acknowledgement as I began my walk towards the lane that leads to the Willows.

I could have gone by the towpath, that would have been a shorter walk, but I could easily have been spotted some distance off. I was planning on making a surprise appearance, so I went via the car park.

It was still reasonably early so I wasn't expecting that there would be any customers in the pub at that time on a cold March morning.

When I eventually entered the car park I got a disquieting shock; my car was missing and I at first thought that it had been stolen. But then I remembered that I'd left the keys with Bev and told her that, as it was taxed and insured (I hadn't had the time to cash either in before I left) and providing the driver was insured to drive it, then they could have use of the vehicle if it was required.

Beverley and George's cars were parked there and so was the old banger that Patricia drove around in. There was, however, a gap between two of them from which I assumed that my car had been removed.

The bar was very dark when I entered, far darker than it should have been. What light there was in the place was coming from a single light over the bar itself, the flames from the roaring fire in one of the grates and some light spilling out from the open cellar door.

Down in the cellar somewhere, I could hear someone moving crates and barrels around.

I went around behind the bar and looked down into the cellar, where I thought I could detect the noises that George makes when he's humping barrels about. I almost went down to join him but changed my mind.

Because my arrival had gone undetected so far, I thought that it might be fun, to pour myself a pint of keg and then settle in a seat by the fire to see how long it would take for anyone to discover me. It had to be keg because if I'd used one of the pumps, George would surely have heard the sound or noticed the slight movement in the plastic pipes.

Settling back, safely out of sight in one of the big club chairs, I stared into the flickering flames in the fire. I felt strangely content and relaxed to be back home again. All thoughts of Codi and what might have been banished from my mind.

I must have felt so warm and cosy sitting there after my long cold walk that pretty quickly I must have fallen asleep. That's when I suddenly found myself entering the Willow's for the first time again; but it was a dream of course. 

Millie came walking in from the garden, straight over to me and kissed me on the lips. Then Pat, Michele, Bev, and finally (and completely inexplicably) Lindsey came in and did the same thing; they didn't speak to me, they just kissed me. The next thing I realised was that all of the girls were stood at the bar and had began to cut cards to see which one was going to be the first to take me to bed. 

It was all very strange and confusing, but then dreams usually are. Then the dream got as crazy as most dreams eventually do. Mary, the three birds from Manchester and even Codi put in an appearance somewhere along the line as my subconscious mind played its little game with my sanity.

Then suddenly my cousin Billie was sitting on my lap kissing me. "See, he ain't dead!" she exclaimed as she broke the kiss. "Still kisses as good as he ever did anyway. You wanna go, Pat?"

"I'd love too, but I don't think John would appreciate the idea very much."

"Ah, don't be a spoil sport, snog the bugger while he still don't know what's going on." Billie laughed.

"Cut it out, Billie. Or we'll have a queue from here to kingdom come," Bev's voice said. 

That's when I realised that I was awake again and not dreaming any more. I looked around to find a group of my friends standing around looking down at me. They all started laughing at the surprised expression on my face.

"We were hiding from you in the kitchen, Mack. We intended dashing out on you when you rang the bell. We were sure that you would do that. But you didn't, or come looking for us either; you just sat yourself down and fell asleep instead," Beverley informed me, smiling. "We thought that you must be tired and decided not to wake you. We were hoping that Millie might be back before you woke up, but she's got held up and... well, we can't creep about on tip toe in here all day waiting for her."

"Hi, folks!" I replied after I'd finally got myself orientated again. That dream had unsettled me some; but isn't that what dreams -- when you can remember them -- usually do. 

"I was planning on creeping up on you all, but it looks like someone let you know that I was coming. Where is Millie by the way?" I asked, trying to act as casual as I could under the circumstances. 

"She's gone over to the..." George began to say, but Bev cut him off.

"Millie's running an errand for me. She should be back before too long. They've taken your car. I hope you don't mind?"

"Millie's finally taken her driving test then, about bloody time too," I commented.

"Not exactly, Mack, only she is taking driving lessons now. No, the new barmaid's driving her. That's all right, isn't it? You did say that providing the driver's insured to drive the car then we could use it when we needed to."

"If she's insured, then there's no problem; better that it's used than sitting out there rotting in the car park."

"Oh, yeah, she's insured all right. Some people are very lax about their paperwork," Billie, who was still sitting on my lap, commented with a giggle; for some reason, everyone else found her comment funny as well.

Whatever the joke had been, it went completely over my head. I was about to ask what was so funny when Bev suddenly decided that it was time for me to see the refitted kitchen; it had had a full makeover whilst I'd been away. 

The kitchen had never been my domain, so at the time I did wonder why Bev thought it was so important that I saw it at that particular time; but I had to admit that it was impressive. Bev is very proud of her pub.

Mille still hadn't returned by the time we got back into the bar, but a good few of the locals had started to turn up and an impromptu celebration of my return ensued. Well, I suppose it was impromptu, although someone might have done some planning or put the word out locally. After all, it was obvious that my arrival had been expected.

Almost everyone insisted on welcoming me back personally and usually with a pint or a short. After an hour or so I was feeling the effect a little, and Bev decided that steak and chips was called for, to soak up some of the booze; I was instructed to sit at one of the tables and eat it. 

Bev and George sat themselves down opposite me and almost everyone else in the pub suddenly moved away from the chosen table tucked away in a corner, to the other side of the bar.

I'm not really as daft as I sometimes behave. It was clear to me that Bev and George had something they wanted to talk to me about. Well, let's be honest Bev obviously had a bone or two to pick with me.

"There've been some changes around here whilst you've been gone, Mack," Beverley began as I ate. "George and me started thinking about the future; not that we intend to retire in any hurry or anything. But Sammy Grave wanted to call it a day; so George cashed in his pension and I liquidated some of my shares and... well, Mack, to cut a long story short, George and I have bought the Wherry off him and we were hoping that you'd go in there as manager."

The village had two waterside pubs, one at each end of the village beside the river: Beverley's pub, The Willow's Ferry, and The Wherry, about a mile or so away as the river goes at the other end of the village. Sammy Grave had been in friendly competition with Beverley for years, but he was getting on in years and the place had gone downhill some. Beverley's offer took me completely by surprise.

"I don't know what to say, Bev," was all that I could think to say in reply.

"Only for a few years, Mack, until we get the place sorted, that is. Then eventually and before George and I retire, we thought that you might like to take the place on as a tenancy, and even with a view to buy in the long term, if you'd like."

"What about Michelle and Pat? Surely they might want to..."

"Michelle's got her eye on running this place eventually. Patricia enjoys serving behind the bar but she has never wanted the hassle of running a pub herself. I think the plan is that the two girls will keep the place on but Michelle will take over as publican. But that's all in the future, Mack; George and I have plenty of life left in us yet. Anyway how'd you fancy the idea of being the publican at the Wherry?"

"I'll need some decent staff. Those buggers Sammy had working for him were bleeding useless."

"No problems there, Mack. Millie and Phil's house is nearer to the Wherry than here, so she'll be working for you. And then this new barmaid we've got, she will most likely live in the Wherry with you; that should be right up your street!" Bev giggled and got an expression that I was extremely familiar with on her face.

I think I might have blushed a little myself as I smiled back at her, enjoying her sly joke. I don't think George picked up on the inference, but he might have. George, when he wanted to, could be very poker faced. 

"Who is this new girl?" I asked. I figured it must be one of the young girls from the village who'd only just left school. It wasn't that big a village and I knew most of them by sight if nothing else.

"Oh, she's a nice girl. I'm sure you'll get along like a house on fire," Bev replied.

"It's going to be a real balls-up if you don't!" George commented rather quietly, almost under his breath. So quietly in fact that I wasn't at all sure that I'd heard him correctly.

"She hasn't been in the business very long, Mack," Bev quickly went on, ignoring George's interruption, "but she's picked it up almost as quickly as you did. Mind, you'll have to have a long talk with her first; perhaps you can sit down for a chat with her later when they get back. The Wherry's closed for the time being, whilst the builders tidy the place up a bit. Millie and the new barmaid are watching that the workmen aren't pilfering all the stock and seeing what needs to be done in the staff quarters."

"Yeah, I'll do that. The sooner the better I suppose, if we are going to work together."

"Mack, you're not exactly going to be working together. We hope she's going to be working for you as an employee remember; you're going to be the publican."

George muttered something again. I think he said, "For the minute anyway!" Which confused me at the time, but I couldn't be sure.

Bev did give him one hell of a dig in the ribs with her elbow though, before she continued. 

"And because that will be the situation, you have to realise that it's your choice whether to take her on or not. She can always stay here and work for us, if you think it'll be awkward having her at the Wherry with you."

I did wonder why Beverley seemed to think that I might not get on with the girl. I was an easygoing bloke when it came to working with people, providing they had some common sense and got on with the job. I'd never clashed with any of the part-time staff she'd hired at the Willow's.




Mack's Progress Ch. 09



"If she can do the job all right, and she's pretty," I added with a smile, to lighten the air a little; Bev was sounding very serious. "Then I can't foresee any problems, Beverley."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll think she's pretty," George commented.

Bev gave him a look that would have scared the pants off of any lesser man. But George just grinned back at her.

"Look, what's going on between you two?" I asked. They were behaving very strangely to my way of thinking.

"Nothing, Mack, we're just all very happy to have you back, that's all," Bev replied. 

George by then had developed a stupid smile on his face, like he was feeling very smug about something and being silly at the same time. For some reason it reminded me of the expression that Stan Laurel was famous for making when things went wrong in their films.

After I'd finished eating, I returned to the bar area where several more old friends had arrived. One of them was Craig who now seemed to enjoy referring to me as Super Stud and revelled in telling all and sundry about the hot American chick that I'd picked up on the Tameron. It very soon became apparent that everyone in the village was already aware that the beautiful Codi and I had become an item, and eventually one of the guys asked what had become of her.

For some reason, possibly because my mind was still on the fact that I was about to become the manager of the Wherry and that was a big responsibility for a young man, I didn't immediately come back with an answer. 

"Codi has gone back to college in America," Billie blurted out before I could get my act together.

This shocked me some because I couldn't figure out how Billie could possibly know that Codi had returned to the US. She could well have heard that Codi and I weren't together anymore from Julia, who - I suspected - had warned the Willow's that I was on my way up. But I'd said nothing at all to any of my family about Codi. Billie quickly realised that she'd said too much and very smartly disappeared amongst the crowd. And I began to wonder what the hell had been going on.

A little later I was still waiting for the chance to get Billie alone and ask her how she knew about Codi going back to the States, when two arms sneaked around my waist from behind and I felt the familiar sensation of those big knockers pressing into my lower back.

I spun around to say hello, only to have Millie pull my head down and clamp her mouth over mine, then she tried to suck my tonsils out. I wouldn't say that I was as over-enamoured about that as I could have been. Millie's husband, Phil, was standing at the bar, not six feet away. 

"Welcome back, luvver! I've missed you," Millie said when she finally let me breathe again.

"Take it easy, Millie. Your old man's around here somewhere; he might get jealous and get that shotgun of his out," I said, trying to make light of the over-enthusiastic welcome Millie had just given me. 

"I have his permission, Luvver, don't you worry!" Millie replied, still grinning and then she kissed me again.

Whilst she was trying to asphyxiate me this second time, I glanced in Phil's direction, intent on gauging his reaction to Millie's welcome. It was with some surprise that I saw the big grin on his face. Then I realised that all was not as kosher as it should be and I was being set-up for something. Phillip, although apparently watching his wife kiss me, was actually looking at something going on behind me. What's more a quick look at Millie's eyes told me that she was trying to watch the same thing. 

When I tried to turn the pair of us so that I could see what they were watching -- there was no way I was going to be able to break free until she decided that I could - Millie took me by surprise and pre-empted my turning motion by turning us in the other direction.

"Okay, what's the score, Millie?" I demanded, when she finally released me from her clutches.

"Don't know what you're talking about, Mack. I've missed you that's all."

"Millie, that snog had nothing to do with you missing me or welcoming me back home. You were keeping me occupied whilst something happened behind me," I said, turning around to scrutinise the faces of everyone who had been stood behind us when Millie kissed me. "Frank... John, what the hell just happened that I wasn't supposed to see, fellas?" I demanded of the two girls' husbands who were stood there, trying to look innocent.

But they both just shrugged back at me. Feeling annoyed that I was being made a fool of, I scanned the bar looking for anything out of the ordinary, and noted that Beverley and Billie were both missing.

But then I spotted Beverley coming through the kitchen door; our eyes met and she gestured for me to go over to her.

"What's all this bloody pantomime about, Beverley?" I demanded when I got over to her.

"Take it easy and calm down, Mack. We didn't know how this was going to go and we didn't want any kind of a confrontation in the bar," Bev replied very quietly.

"Confrontation?" I asked.

"Mack, the new barmaid's in the kitchen. Why don't you go in there and have that chat with her now?"

"Sure thing, Bev. But when I figure out what you buggers were up to, sparks are going fly!" I smiled back at her, to let Bev know that I had my emotions under control.

Bev smiled back at me and gestured towards the kitchen door, which I opened. Then Bev gave me a shove inside, because the shock of what -- or should I say who - I'd seen sitting at the table had virtually rooted me to the spot.

"Hi, Mack," Lindsey said, with tears running down her face.

"Lynn... What... Why...?" was as much as I could manage to get out.

However Lindsey obviously had her well-rehearsed little speech prepared. Once she started I daren't stop her until she'd finished. I could see and hear that she was struggling.

"I came to the mountain once, Mack, and finished up chickening out, when I..." she faltered. I thought that Lindsey was going to crack, but she took a deep breath and continued. "Then Joan actually talked the mountain into coming to me, and that bloody idiot chose the wrong moment to make his ridiculous marriage proposal." She gave a sigh. "Honestly, Mack, I'd told him that we could never be anything but friends. Well then, after my disappointment at Billie's wedding, Julia told me that the mountain still wanted to talk, so I thought I'd better come up and see him." She stopped for another breath and a little sob. "But by the time I got here, you'd already gone." 

"Beverley told me that they thought that you were coming back this year, so I decided to stay and wait until you got here. I've been working here at the Willow's ever since."

Whilst Lindsey had been talking, I'd sat myself in the seat opposite her at the table.

"Lindsey," I said reaching out to take her hand, "You do realise that..."

"I know all about Codi, Mack. Craig made sure everyone in bloody Norfolk knows all about Mack and his beautiful American girl."

"Shit, I'm sorry you heard about her, Lindsey. That guy's got a big mouth."

"I would have heard about Codi anyway, Mack! If not from Craig, then from Billie or the detective," she said.

"Detective?" I asked completely confused.

"Codi's father is a very important and I should imagine very rich judge in America, Mack," Billie, who I hadn't even realised was in the room, said. "He had your background investigated when he thought you two were going to get married. He even came over himself, to talk to Beverley and George."

"Bleeding hell!" I commented.

"And he called Beverley on Thursday morning to tell her what had happened in France. He's a nice man; he and his wife were quite worried about you, when you ran off from the chalet. Codi had no idea where you'd gone, you know?"

"Shit, Javier must not have told her."

"Javier?" Billie asked.

"A friend of mine over there. He's a cab driver. He drove me to Lyon. I assumed he would tell Codi that I'd left for England, but apparently he didn't. I wonder why the other two never told her."

"From what Codi's father told Beverley, we think Codi's persona-non-gratis among your friends down there."

"Oh, shit, poor Codi!"

"Why poor Codi? She did what Lindsey didn't do, didn't she? She's made her bed, she asked for everything she's got. But, Mack, Lindsey didn't!" Billie very pointedly, pointed out.

"Oh, god, yeah, I'm so sorry about all that, Lindsey. I kind-a got hold of the wrong end of the stick for a while there. I can only say that I'm sorry for being such a bloody arsehole," I said to Lindsey as apologetically as I knew how.

Lindsey, however, didn't reply. She just placed a large manila envelope on the table and pulled a file of papers from it.

"I thought that you might like to read this, Mack; that's if you can make any sense of it. The Doctor's handwriting is pretty abysmal," she said.

"What is it?" I asked.

"My medical records, right back from before I went on the pill. If you can understand it, it explains that my going on the birth control pill had nothing to do with my wanting to have sex with anyone. It was because of my irregular periods and the chronic pains they caused me."

"Christ, Lindsey, I don't need to see that."

"Maybe not but you do need to see this." She said pushing another piece of paper at me. "Although it's some months old now, I had the examination back in September just before I came up here; I'll have another done this week." 

"What the hell is it?"

"Briefly I says that I'm still medically a virgin and that I have never had sexual intercourse with anyone."

"Shit, Lynn, what did you get that for?"

"To convince you that I have never given to any man anything that I hadn't offered to you. Mack, I told you that I intend to walk down the aisle a virgin and I still intend to do so. And when it comes to the time I was hoping that you might possibly be the one who took my virginity."

"Lindsey, I don't know what to say. Look, you must understand that I almost married Codi."

"I understand completely, Mack. And I don't want to catch you on the rebound from her either; I can assure you of that. Mack, I don't want you to get the idea that I haven't gone out with other guys since... Oh, you know. But I will tell you that none of them stood up to... Oh, bugger, you know what I mean. I couldn't get as close to any of them, as we had been."

"I'm sorry, Lindsey, I was a bloody fool."

"Christ, Mack, stop saying that you're sorry. The time to have been sorry was three years ago. You have to understand something, Mack, which might not make much sense to you. I'm not in love with you anymore - anymore than you're in love with me either. If you were, then you would never have been able to ask Codi to marry you."

Lindsey looked me straight in the eyes. I have no idea what she read into my expression because I really can't relate what I was feeling myself at the time; I was pretty overwhelmed by the occasion.

"However," Lindsey went on, "I do still love you and I haven't been able to find anyone else that I feel that I could fall in love with. I'm not sure but I think... or rather, I'm hoping that you will feel the same way; that we can fall in love with each other again, eventually. We've got plenty of time; maybe when you've got Codi out of your system, we might date or something."

"Lynn, at this moment I would marry you tomorrow. But you are right, I'm still all mixed up in my mind, what with all that has happened - you know, with Codi and all that. I'm very flattered that you are prepared to give me... well, us - a chance. Although dating could be a problem, since you'd have to get time off from your boss and as I understand it, he's a real arsehole."

Lindsey smiled, "So we'll see what the future brings then, shall we? I'm sure that I can talk my boss around. He's a pain in the arse sometimes; but when it comes down to it, he's my pain in the arse. Well, I hope he will be."

"Hey, girl, don't go turning all kinky on me."

"Oh, Mack, there's one thing that you'd better know up front. My friend, Millie, and I do a lot of reminiscing together behind the bar when the pub's quiet."

"Jesus, what's she been saying?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? Let's just say we commiserate with each other and Millie's been teaching me more than just how to be a bar maid."

"Should I be worried?"

"Well, we'll see, shall we - eventually." Lindsey grinned.

Damn, the expression that appeared on Lindsey's face came straight out of my cousin Billie and Millie's repartee.

I had to wonder exactly how much about our relationship Millie had told Lindsey. Pretty much 'everything' I was to discover over the years. I was also to discover that Lindsey knew most of the intimate details of my relationships with Patricia and Michelle as well.

All four women have a kind of weird bond between them. Any of them can all but reduce me to an embarrassed wreck with one sly comment to any of the others. Sometimes I have to wonder how much they've told Billie as well, because she always appears to get the joke. I don't think that any of them have let on to Lindsey about Beverley and me, though. Well, there's never been any suggestive jokes in that direction.

--------------------------------

It was a month or so before we reopened the Wherry. The opening was done without any real ceremony. Oh, yeah, we had a little party for the locals but that was about all. The holiday season was rushing up on us and we were too busy getting everything ready. All the gardens had to be redone; Sammy had really let them go.

Back in those days what catering we did, besides the odd grilled steak, was limited to chicken and chips in a basket kind of stuff. But it still took time to prepare; Lindsey took charge of that side of things.

One of the things about the Wherry that I was really pleased about was that Sammy had expanded into small boat hire at one time in the past. He'd bought the tiny boat yard next-door to the pub and hired out small launches by the hour. Now all that remained of the launches were lying -- all but derelict - in an old corrugated iron boat shed on the land. The land itself - well, most of it - Bev hoped eventually to incorporate into the Wherry's gardens, but for the time being we just cleaned the place up a bit and had some local lads slap a coat of paint on the iron shed.

Craig and some of his mates were persuaded to look the old wooden launches over and, with Laurence's help, the best two we managed to get serviceable quite quickly. From then on we used the boats for transport between the two pubs, the village shop and - time permitting - the local town on shopping expeditions; sure made a change from getting the car out. We never had any plans of hiring them out to the general public. 

Bev gave one of the other launches to Millie and Phil. Phil, with Laurence's help, got sorted out. Then eventually -- once Phil got the short length of canal that led up to the farm cleared - Millie used it like most folks use a car; Millie to my knowledge never has passed her driving test. Although, I have seen her driving tractors and cars around the farm.

For a long time Lindsey and I just worked together as friends. Millie had taught her well. Maybe a little better than I would have liked, because as soon as the warm weather came along; Lindsey began to appear in the bar with an almost indecently short pair of cut offs and with her blouse tied under her breasts, much in the manner that Pat and Michelle were in the habit of wearing behind the bar.

I was amazed at how much cash Lindsey raked in, in tips from the holidaymakers. I had never realised what kind of money those girls were raking in on the quiet. Lindsey was quite happy to count her tips out in front of me on the bar after closing time, though; the other girls never had. I commented on the fact one day in the late summer.

"Not much point in keeping it a secret from you. What's mine will be ours before very much longer," Lindsey replied, taking me by surprise.

"You think so?" I answered wondering if it was the desired reply.

"I know so!" Lindsey said as she swept the pile of cash into a bag, gave me one of those, 'I know what I'm talking about looks' then disappeared in the direction of her room.

God knows how long I stood there, trying to work out what move, if any, I was expected to make then. Eventually - after weighing up all the options - I chickened out of doing anything. I was too scared of fucking things up again with Lindsey by moving too early. Yeah, just being around Lindsey everyday had made me fall head over heels in love with her again.

I think it must have been the following Monday. I was alone in the pub because Lindsey had gone off early to do some shopping at the supermarket in town. Millie and Billie, who were both on shift that day, hadn't turned up after dropping their babies off at the crèche in the Village Hall yet.

Actually I was crouched down behind the bar, tidying and restocking the bottom shelf; the one where we kept the less popular and therefore rarely asked for drinks. It tended to get in a right state.

Anyway I suddenly heard the door open, and realised that Lindsey must have returned. Obviously she was carrying some shopping and I soon realised that Millie and Billie were with her. As the girls were always playing jokes on me, I thought I'd stay down behind the bar where they couldn't see me, and then jump up to make them jump when they passed close to the bar.

They must have put some of the shopping on a handy table and then gone back out to the car for the rest. When eventually they returned, they were all giggling about something, although I couldn't really hear that well what they were saying; however I did pick up the gist of it.

"This one?" I heard Lindsey ask.

"No, this one's more like it," Millie replied.

"Christ. Are you sure? That's damned big, isn't it? I keep reaching and choking with these little ones," Lindsey commented. 

"Yeah, you'll get it eventually, Lynn; it's just a matter pf practice and mind control. We all got the retching reflex to start with; but with time and practice you'll find you will be able to overcome that, won't she, Billie?"

'What the hell are these women discussing?' I thought to myself, and sneaked my head up a little, hoping that I'd be able to see between the pump handles and that the girls would not see me.

"Look, it's easy once you get the hang of it. Watch?" Mille said.

And I watched wide-eyed as Millie pealed the skin from a fair sized banana and then, tilting her head back, took almost the whole thing into her mouth and down her throat. Then she pulled it out again and grinned at Lindsey.

"See, easy. The real trick to learn and the one that really will drive him crazy is to swallow while you've got it in there. God knows what sensation they get when you do that. But it drives them wild when your throat muscles grab hold of it," Millie said.

"Yeah, you should see how Francis jumps around when I do it to him. Watch this!" Billie said, and then proceeded to give Lindsey the same demonstration that Mille had done. Only I could clearly make out Billie's throat muscles working. Billie eventually pulled the banana out of her mouth and grinned at the other two.

Jesus, Millie and Billie were teaching Lindsey how to deep throat! I had to wonder how long this kind of thing had been going on. But knowing Millie and Billie like I did, I figured that it had probably been quite some time. Oh, this was, of course, well before I realised that Millie had told Lindsey the intimate details of our relationship.

I ducked down behind the bar again and very quietly and carefully crawled towards the hatch in the floor, which led down to the cellar. I had no intention that any of the girls were going to learn what I had just witnessed. But I was reassured that, when Lindsey and I eventually did get our relationship going again, it looked like I was going to be in for an interesting sex life. Something I had worried about, what with Lindsey's apparently repressed views on sex.




Mack's Progress Ch. 09



Shortly I clattered about as I apparently climbed up from the cellar, and acted surprised that I found the girls carrying the shopping into the kitchen. Like a gentleman - and I hoped - without too large a grin on my face, I gallantly helped carry the rest.

---------------------------------------

The Wherry was doing well, better than any of us expected, I think. Having been tidied up, especially the gardens and riverside moorings, we had plenty of hire cruisers stopping by. I had been worried that we'd take trade from the Willow's but there proved to be plenty of customers to go around. In the season, that is; in the winter we hadn't expected to do much more than tick over anyway.

Julia and her mob came up to stay in our couple of letting rooms a few times; we weren't really into bed and breakfast, being so busy with the pub. My parents visited quite a few times as well and even Conway and Joan stayed a few days. The atmosphere was what can only be described as tense between Conway and me at first, but we did warm to each other eventually. Conway was very helpful around the place actually; he unloaded the dray one day almost single handed, because we were busy in the bar, and he appeared to be fascinated with all the pipes and what have you in the cellar. Could be that Conway is a frustrated publican on the quiet.

Once the season was over, it fell to Jean, George's daughter, to give - very publicly as is her habit - Lindsey and I the shove that she felt we needed. The evening in question was what you might call a publican's night at the Willow's. 

During the quiet season, groups of publicans get together to chew the fat and moan about everything from the breweries to the customers. It's a kind of meeting where we can show our pubs off to each other and at the same time communally commiserate about the downside of the job.

Millie was looking after the Wherry that night with a part timer. Lindsey had always come to these things with me. Not that we'd been to many, what with the season only just having ended.

We were playing darts, Landlords against Landladies; Lindsey, of course, was acting as the Wherry's Landlady. Anyway something happened and Bev had to nip off into the kitchen to sort out some imminent disaster with the meal she was laying on for us all. Jean temporarily took her place in the landladies dart team.

I'd just played and having extracted my darts from the board handed them to Lindsey who used mine because she didn't have any of her own. But we must have... well, I know now that it did take a fraction of a second longer to place them in Lindsey's hands than was necessary. 

Remember although Lindsey and I worked together all day almost every day, we were both dancing around each other like we were walking on eggshells. We hadn't so much as kissed each other all the time we'd been at the Wherry. So when our hands did touch to exchange the darts, I think we both cherished the moment and maybe our hands stayed in contact a little longer than necessary.

"God, give me strength!" Jean yelled at the top of her voice, and everyone in the pub, including Lindsey and I, turned to look at her.

"Jesus!" Jean said, looking directly at Lindsey and me. "You two are even worse than Bev and dad were. When are you going to stop pretending and get bloody married? We could do with a bloody good party."

I went to say something in reply - I'm not sure what now - but in doing so I tried to move a little. The problem there was I found that I was still holding onto Lindsey hands; or she was holding onto mine. Whatever, the whole pub burst into howls of laughter that brought Beverley from the kitchen to investigate.

"What's going on?" Bev demanded.

"These two silly sods, will you look at them? I just told them we could do with a party to liven things up before Christmas," Jean told her.

Then Bev began to laugh as well. I looked back at Lindsey and at the same time realised that we were still holding hands. I attempted to pull my hands away but Lindsey held them tight. So tight she crushed the flights on two of my darts.

"What am I supposed to say?" I asked Lindsey, who smiled back at me shyly.

She didn't get a chance to answer because someone started chanting "down on one knee, Mack!" and everyone else joined in.

"Do you want me to?" I asked Lindsey.

"Yes, Mack," she replied very quietly.

"But I haven't got a ring."

"Yes, you have." Lindsey suddenly sprung into life and released my hands, the darts falling to the floor as she did so. From her handbag she retrieved a little red jeweller's box and held it out to me. I knew what it contained; not an engagement ring; but the first present I'd ever given Lindsey, a friendship ring.

"This will do nicely for now," she said as she handed it to me.

Yeah, well, I did the one knee bit in front of everyone, feeling like a prize chump actually. Well, when you have half the village, all of your friends and peers standing around cheering you on, you do feel like an idiot on these occasions.

Having put the ring on Lindsey's finger, we kissed for the first time in god knows how many years. Somehow we ignored the cheering and shouting going on all around us; except for the noise, as far as Lindsey and I were concerned we were the only people there. Anyway after that the darts game was abandoned, I believe; Lindsey and I took no further part in it anyway and we even left the Willow's before Beverley had served up the food.

Down at the launch, I helped Lindsey climb aboard and, whilst she started the engine, I cast off then jumped aboard myself. Then Lindsey took me by surprise, instead of heading up river towards the Wherry, she turned off into the short canal that lead to Phil and Millie's farm; then when we were in the still water Lindsey cut engine and lights, then swung the bow into the reeds; where the boat came to a gentle halt.

"And what have you got in mind now, Lindsey?" I asked.

"Just an hour or so alone with my man. You realise that someone will have called Millie at the Wherry and they'll all be waiting for us, don't you?"

"Yeah, you have a good point there," I replied.

Anyway it was a little different making out with your girl in a launch in the moonlight. Although I'll point out that it was September and not what you call a warm evening. Lindsey and I kept each other warm though.

End of chapter 9



Mack's Progress Ch. 10



As Lindsey had suggested there would be, there was a welcoming committee waiting for us at the Wherry. The riverside lights were on and a couple of the lads were waiting on the riverbank, ready to take the launch in hand and moor her securely for us. And, of course, to be the first at the Wherry to congratulate us on our engagement.

There was a party atmosphere for the rest of the evening with lots of hugs and kisses and congratulations for Lindsey and me from all of our regulars and their women. Although as soon as Lindsey got the chance she slipped into the kitchen to call her mother on the extension and give her the news.

When I eventually found time to call my mother, you'd have thought she'd been told that I'd won the pools or something. She went blabbering on listing everyone that she was going to have to call to give the news to, until my father came on the phone and told me that it was about time, that Lindsey was something special.

After that the telephone would ring again almost the second that it was put down, with either Lindsey's or my relatives and friends calling to congratulate us and to ask if we'd set a date for the wedding. Neither Lindsey nor I had had a chance to contemplate the date at the time.

"You might want to think about late January or early Feb, luvver," Millie suggested after she'd heard me tell the umpteenth caller that we hadn't fixed a date yet. "I think Beverley's got some plans to rehash the private accommodation upstairs once you two stopped dancing around each other." She went on, "Be kind-a handy if it was done when you're away on honeymoon, wouldn't it? You know the pub's going to be quiet then as well."

I looked at Lindsey who smiled back at me and without much more discussion, the date was selected as the third Saturday in January.

The venue for the wedding was the next problem that had to be solved. After the pub closed that evening, Lindsey and I sat in the bar and talked on the subject long and hard; but we always returned to the obvious choice, what was now our local village church.

Lindsey's folks lived around the Bristol and Bath area. Most of my folks lived in and around London. If we got married in either of those places, the other's families would have to travel and most likely most of our close friends in the village wouldn't be able to attend because we had two pubs to look after there.

We were also pretty sure that because it was out of the season, we could turn up plenty of cheap accommodation for everyone around the village as well.

Having solved that problem to our mutual satisfaction - and after a kiss and cuddle - Lindsey went up to her room, whilst I went around to check the doors were all locked and then turned out the lights.

As I entered my room I heard Lindsey in the shower. I took my shower in the other bathroom. Bev's plans, I knew, were to make the owner's suite more private and install en suite facilities in all of the other bedrooms. The Wherry was a very old building and that was going to call for some major works. Beverley had broached the subject with me a couple of times and Millie was most likely correct - Bev probably was planning to have as much of the work as possible undertaken when Lindsey and I were on honeymoon.

I heard Lindsey leave the other bathroom whilst I was still in the shower. "Night, Lindsey," I called as I passed her room, but I was a little disappointed to find that she didn't reply. I almost opened her door and repeated myself, but thought better of it.

But then when I entered my own room, I discovered why Lindsey hadn't replied; she was lying there on my bed.

I'm not sure how long I stood there staring at her, without saying a word.

"Well, are you coming to bed, or are you going to stand there with your mouth open all might?" she finally asked.

"Lindsey, I thought that you didn't want to... you know, until we are married."

"And I still would like to be a virgin when I make my vows to you, Mack. But that doesn't mean that I don't want to sleep in the same bed as you. If you want to take me now, you can have me willingly. But Millie and Billie have been teaching me all kinds of things that we can do together without actually doing it."

"Teaching?" I asked smiling and probably in a questioning tone to my voice.

Remember, I was well aware of what Millie and the twins had got up to over the years. Apparently, so was Lindsey by then.

"Whoops, no sorry, I take that back." Lindsey smiled sheepishly. "Millie and Billie have explained all sorts of things about sex to me in the last few months. Mack, Millie is the only person I know who's bi-sexual... except maybe for the twins. Oh, bugger... you know what I mean. Don't look at me like that, Mack, please."

I have no idea what expression I had on my face by then. But it was obviously embarrassing Lindsey. I laughed, and went over to the bed to lie down beside her and kiss her.

"Sorry, kiddo, but you talked yourself into that."

She didn't answer; she just pulled me close and hugged me tightly.

I lay there hugging Lindsey, somewhat annoyed with myself. I'd let the conversation go in a direction that had embarrassed her and that prevented me from asking the one question that had been uppermost in my mind for months. The opportunity missed, I'd have to wait until the right situation cropped up again.

Lindsey's and my sex life developed by leaps and bounds over the following few weeks. We did just about everything except the actual deed itself, but, hell, I wasn't complaining. I'm going to admit to you that a couple of times we did come very close, but one or the other of us would shy off at the last minute. Lindsey wanted to be a virgin when she said, "I do!" and I was more than happy to oblige her by then.

I did have to demonstrate to her how to use her new razor though. Although thinking about it, I do believe she enjoyed having me carry out the operation for her, because she has insisted that I always do it for -- or to -- her ever since. Thinking logically, Lindsey must have been shaving under her arms and her legs, etc. for years. Possibly she enjoyed what I did right after the operation was over, much as Millie and the twins had done.

Lindsey happily demonstrated to me that Millie - and Billie, the terrible two were much like a single entity by then - had instructed her very well in the art of fellatio and she developed her skills very quickly once she started to practice them. Well, they say that practice makes perfect, don't they? Lindsey got in a lot of practice over the next few weeks and I noticed the very rapid improvement in her technique. She also very vocally praised me for some of the skills I'd developed in the preceding couple of years. But no mention was ever made of with whom I'd developed those skills.

Well, not in the bedroom anyway. The odd comment did fly around between all of the girls in the bar on occasion - usually when it was exceptionally quiet, and designed, I was sure, to embarrass me most of the time. And possibly when Lindsey made them, to show that she wasn't bearing any grudges. Jealousy developing on Lindsey's part - concerning what I'd done with Millie and the girls -- was something that I had begun to worry about.

Eventually one evening, on a customer's birthday, Lindsey had imbibed a little more than she normally did. Jesus, Lindsey rarely got tipsy, but that night she was off duty, and somehow managed to get herself really tanked up. I think that possibly Millie and Billie had a hand in that. Millie was working that night, but Billie had hit the booze harder than she usually did as well.

Anyway I summoned up the courage to broach the subject of jealousy with Lindsey whilst we were clearing up. Well, to be precise I was clearing up; Lindsey was making a pretty half-hearted job of it. I'm afraid the confusing conversation that developed between us went in directions I hadn't intended it to. But it did clear the air some.

Excess of alcohol affects different people in different ways. Some it turns into fighters, others into sex-starved lovers; and some people start spewing out verbal diarrhoea. Because Lindsey was usually very conservative in her drinking habits, I can't say that I'd ever noticed that she was a talker before. 

Well, that's not exactly true; I had noticed that when Lindsey got tipsy she'd talk a lot. But because of the situations we'd generally found ourselves in when she'd got tipsy, I'd always assumed that it was because alcohol lowered her sexual inhibitions a little. For some reason I'd always taken the chat for nervous talk. I told you there were a few times when Lindsey would happily let me get her tits out and would even go as far as to give me a hand job. So I'd put all her talking down to her nervously trying to distract me from taking things any further. Well, that evening, Lindsey was to prove to me that I was wrong on that assumption.

"Jealous! Christ, Mack, of course I was bloody jealous of them. Why do you think I rushed out of the Willow's like that, that day! Jesus, when I saw you standing there with those four women, I knew that you'd... gotten laid, that's the word you use, isn't it? Of course I was bloody jealous. I just couldn't stay and had to get as far away from you and them as I could."

"I'm sorry, Lindsey. Look, if you want, after we're married we can move right away from here."

"Don't be stupid, Mack. I said 'I was' jealous of them, but I'm not any more. They are my very good friends now; I know that not one of them, or you, would... oh, Mack, you know what I mean. Look, all of these women look at life - well, sex anyway - differently to how I used to look at things. I don't know, I was repressed I suppose; I always thought the real purpose of sex was to make babies."

"Some of my friends back at college seemed to enjoy having sex with their boyfriends. But most of them treated it as a chore they only did to keep their boyfriends from straying. I never did think that was much of a basis to build a long term relationship on."

Lindsey stopped wiping the table she was standing over, turned around and sat on it, looking at me with an embarrassed expression on her face.

"Look, Mack, most of the guys at college only wanted a girl who let them... oh, you know what I mean. If a girl had sex with too many different blokes, she soon got a reputation. She found that she had plenty of guys chatting her up all the time, but we all know it wasn't for the intellectual quality of her conversation, or her looks either. So that sort of reinforced the promise I'd made to myself that I would remain a virgin until I got married."

"Most guys didn't hang around me for very long when they found out that I had no intention of letting them... and then I met you, Mack. You were something different, kind of special. Yeah, you liked to sneak the odd grope in now and again when my defences were down. But you didn't make a big thing out of it when I told you of my plans to be a virgin bride. If I remember correctly, you just smiled."

"I did?" I commented in surprise, I thought that I'd been pretty disappointed at the time.

"And then can you remember what you did?" she asked.

"Eh, well, knowing my penchant for the dramatic, I should imagine I said something pretty memorable. But not so memorable that I can recall exactly what now, Lindsey."

"It wasn't what you said, Mack, so much as what you did. You rather ceremoniously took a pack of condoms out of your pocket and threw them in the waist bin!"

"I did?" I said trying to pretend that I couldn't recall the incident. But it had quickly jumped back into my mind. That was nearly two quid that I'd discarded that night, remember? Throwing cash away was not something I'd be likely to forget in a hurry. 

"Yes, you said that we wouldn't be needing them and that you were quite happy to wait."

"Must have had too much to drink that night!" I quipped, trying to make light of the occasion.

"I don't think so, Mack. I took it as you telling me that you were willing to wait until I was ready. It told me that you were not with me for what you could get from me; but that you had genuine feelings for me!"

"Never believe in empty gestures, Lindsey. There's a condom dispenser in most pub gents, you know."

"And quite a few of the ladies conveniences as well, Mack. It was a nice gesture anyway, even if you did grow more arms than an octopus sometimes, when you got excited. I felt safe with you and I knew that I could trust you. I knew that night that you were the man I was going to marry... well, I thought I knew, until it all went wrong."

"Ah, yeah, well, I fucked up big time, didn't I? But why the hell didn't you tell me that you were on the bloody pill in the first place? God, I got it all arse about face when I found those buggers in your flat."

Lindsey walked over to the bar and refilled her glass from the optic on the wall behind it. Then after sitting on one of the bar stools and taking a sip of her Scotch, she smiled at me.

"Well, Mack, you know that I had this stupid plan to walk down the aisle a virgin."

"It isn't a stupid plan, Lindsey. You've got the perfect right to do as your conscience guides you." 

I was beginning to get the feeling that Lindsey had consumed a lot more than I'd thought she had that night. She was quite definitely much more vocal than usual and I was sure that it was the alcohol doing most of the talking. But even if Lindsey was my intended, I had my barman's hat on and let her talk.

"Let me finish what I was saying, Mack. I'm having enough trouble explaining this to you as it is. You know now - well, I hope you know - that once I'd told you about my stupid plan, that I trusted you not to pressure me too hard in that direction. I also knew, because you'd mentioned it so often that you would never place yourself in a compromising situation."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. Christ alone knew what kind of a tangent Lindsey had gone off onto then.

"Ah, well, as I remember it you were very vocal about not having sex with anyone, unless you or they had taken precautions to prevent an unwanted pregnancy. Jesus, you were like a bloody preacher with all your friends!" Lindsey explained, with a contrite look on her face.

"Ah, yeah, but what's that got to do with the price of bread?" I commented. Not really having much clue as to what point Lindsey was trying to make.

"Stop taking the piss out of me, Mack. You know what I'm saying is true. I was there in the room with Billie when she told you that she was pregnant. I heard you giving her what-for for not taking precautions."

"You were there!" I was surprised to hear that Billie and Lindsey were that close when I'd been away.

"Yes, of course, she was at my flat; she was a little scared to go home and tell her parents. She called you for some moral support and... and, well, after the way you went off at her, telling her parents was a cakewalk."

"Oh, bugger, did I upset her that much?"

"No, not really, but I think she was more worried about how you would take the news than anyone else. That's why you were the first in your family to know. You do realise that she looks on you as her big brother, don't you?"

"Yeah, she's a good kid."

"She's not a kid anymore, Mack. She's a wife and a mother; and a damned good one too. Anyway I've gotten off the subject. You wanted to know why I never told you about those damned birth control pills of mine. Well, it was because I didn't trust myself!"

By then she had lost me completely. What did she mean; she couldn't trust herself not to let some other bugger shag her? That didn't make much sense; Lindsey must have seen the confusion on my face.

"Mack, when you used to stay over at my place after we'd been out drinking, things got a little heavy sometimes... well, heavy for me anyway. Damn... look, I had trouble controlling my emotions sometimes, it's not only you guys who have hormones, you know. If you had pushed hard enough, then I probably would have... oh, shit, look I knew that you wouldn't because you thought that I wasn't on birth control."

They weren't Lindsey's exact words and it all took some unravelling in my mind; but I got the gist of the idea that Lindsey had relied on my phobia about unwanted - or rather unplanned - pregnancies to make sure that she'd remained a virgin.

"Lindsey, you relied on my self-control. You were pushing your luck a bit, weren't you?" I finally retorted.

"No, I knew my man... well, I thought I did. There was my phobia about letting myself go as well. That meant that you never pushed me very hard to start with. But there were a couple of times when I'd drunk a damned sight more that I should have done... oh, and I might point out, than I wouldn't have done if I'd been with anyone else but you. But more than once, I'd have happily let you take me! I just abdicated my responsibilities and left it up to you."

"Jesus, you really pushed your bleeding luck girl."

"Maybe I did, but I was right in my judgement of my man, wasn't I? You've had every opportunity in the last few weeks and you still haven't disappointed me."

"Well, we'll be married in a couple of months; not that there's much we haven't' tried in the meantime; I suppose we have to save something for the big day."

"Or night! Are you coming to bed now?" she said after emptying her glass then giving me her 'I'm in the mood to play' look.

"No, I've still got clearing up to do. You go and sleep off some of that booze you've drunk this evening."

Lindsey slid off her stool and kissed me. "Look, Mack, whilst we were apart everyone told me to forget you and move on with my life. I tried, but I couldn't because you were the best thing that's ever happened to me. I was in a kind of limbo for a long time, I didn't know what I'd done wrong, and I had no idea how to put it right again."

Lindsey suddenly burst into tears and hung onto me very tightly. 

"Then I came up here looking for you and that Craig guy told everyone in the village about you and Codi and I really thought I'd lost you. I don't know what I'd thought up to then, but somehow I'd been convinced that someday we'd finish up together again. I was really on the verge of giving up and going back home when that American detective turned up and started asking questions about you all around the village. Word soon went around about why he was asking questions. You know, he was employed by Codi's father checking whether you were a suitable marriage candidate for his daughter."

"When Codi's dad turned up to see Beverley, I really did think it was a done deal and actually went up to my room and got my stuff packed whilst he, Beverley and George were talking in the bar."

I couldn't see Lindsey's face whilst she was talking, but my shirt was getting very wet from her tears. She'd gone quiet for a few seconds, so I asked, "How come you were still here when I arrived then?"

"I wouldn't have been if Codi had been with you. Beverley talked me into staying; for some reason she seemed convinced that you'd more likely than not arrive back at the Willow's alone. But she wouldn't explain why! Anyway she said that if you did arrive alone then she thought that I needed to be here. If you had Codi tagging along, then Julia would tip her the wink."

Lindsey lifted her head and looked into my eyes. "Anyway Beverley told me that she thought that I should stay in the village, for a little while at least. Bev told me that I should stay and fight Codi for you; oh, not in the literal sense. But Beverley said that she'd messed up and made a big mistake when she was young; she told me that she didn't want us - you and me - to make the same one. Has she ever told you about her and George?" 

"Yeah, I doubt there's many in the village who don't know the tale. I doubt that there's many who don't know the intricate details of our relationship either. This is a small community and they gossip a lot."




Mack's Progress Ch. 10



"They know who's won though, Mack. Come on, let's go to bed now please. We can leave this lot until the morning."

"Alright, but none of your funny stuff; I know what you sex mad women are like."

--------------------------------------

Lindsey and I had to have two engagement parties, one at my parent's house and one at a hotel just outside Bath. I can't say that I was particularly flavour of the month with Lindsey's relatives; but then I really didn't expect that I would be. Even less so, after Lindsey had informed them of where the wedding was to be held. My folks had taken that news a little more... stoically.

As Christmas approached I began to realise and understand Beverley's long term plans for the two pubs; but it was something that Michelle did that made me see how far into the future Beverley was looking.

Not two months into her course at Southampton, Michelle had suddenly changed horses big style. She had been taking media studies down there, but she suddenly left the college completely and moved herself up to London, where she lodged with Julia and entered Chiswick College studying hotel and catering.

It was when I expressed my surprise at Michelle's change of direction that Beverley sat me down and filled me in on her plans. She saw the two pubs developing differently. The Wherry she saw as going down the young persons and music road. The Willow's she intended moving more in the restaurant direction.

"The worlds changing, Mack, and pubs are going to have to move with the times. What with the breathalyser nowadays, out of season we are only just covering our overheads. A nice restaurant by the river should bring in some more out of season custom here, and a live band or two should pull the youngsters into the Wherry."

"We should be able to increase our mark-ups as well during the summer months, if we can lay on all the trimmings!" Beverley sat back with a satisfied smile on her face.

-------------------------

Christmas and New Year came and went with their usual flurries in trade and a good few loud party nights at both pubs. Builders and architects turned up to offer their suggestions to Beverley on what sort of structural work would be required on the two pubs to fit in with her long term plans. And guys from the local council-planning department also visited to argue with Beverley over those same plans. Most of Beverley's plans were not going to happen right away, but she wanted to make sure that anything she did at the beginning would fit into the master plan. There was no point in making any changes twice.

---------------------------

Lindsey and my wedding day was upon us almost before we realised. The day dawned sunny and without the wind that often roars into Norfolk from the North Sea. But it was bleeding cold.

Guests had arrived from all over and were scattered about in different hotels and B & B establishments. Some were even accommodated on Holiday Cruisers that had been pressed into service and were moored on the river, by the Willows.

The reception was held in the village hall as Millie and Phillip's had been. But there were a damned sight more people there, what with our families as well as just about every soul in the district.

Around midnight Lindsey and I were packed off in a limousine for our first night as man and wife together. This was a surprise because we had intended spending our first official night together at the Wherry. I still don't know who organised our night at the Hotel Nelson in Norwich, or who paid for it. Lindsey and I have spent the night of almost every wedding anniversary in the same room there ever since. We usually try to re-enact the first time we did the actual deed proper every year. We like to pretend that it's the same bed as well; but the hotel has changed hands and been given the once over several times since that first night.

These re-enactments are performed with a lot of giggling and are usually accompanied by the consumption of copious quantities of Champagne on someone's part; personally it doesn't do much for me.

We honeymooned for two weeks in Malta and for the most part really enjoyed ourselves. I hired a car that, surprisingly, only had 64 miles -- or maybe they were kilometres, we were just surprised at the low reading - on the clock and we toured every corner of the island.

The one down point - or maybe it was just that it was embarrassing to me - was on the trip we took to Gozo. We hadn't been off of the ferry long and were sitting in a small bar, when Codi's friend Marge appeared from out of nowhere, did a quick double take to assure herself that it was me and then approached us.

"Hi, Mack. What happened to tight arse?" she asked casually, although I should imagine that she had actually said tight ass.

"Hello, Marge. This is my wife, Lindsey," I replied, hoping to shut her up quickly. Marge was just about the last person that I wanted to meet or talk to.

"I figured that somehow," she replied, then turned to look at Lindsey. "Hi, Lindsey, congratulations. From what I've heard, you've caught yourself a real stud."

"He's not too bad and I don't intend to throw him back in a hurry," Lindsey replied with laughter in her voice, somewhat surprising to me.

Without being invited Marge settled her fat arse into one of the other chairs at the table, the last thing I wanted. I was beginning to think that I'd have to get rude with her before she'd leave us alone.

"Please excuse me, Lynn, but I was wondering. What happened with you and..." she asked turning back to me.

I was at least pleased that Marge stopped speaking before she mentioned Codi's name.

"She found herself a film star," I replied.

"Oh, shit... silly bitch! You mean to tell me she couldn't keep her legs crossed."

"That's about it!"

"Silly bitch, and she was always lecturing me. Sorry, Lynn, but she was such a goody two shoes until Mack here came along. I can't understand the bitch. From what the grapevine said, she was nuts about you, Mack."

"Not nuts enough apparently," I replied.

"Could be that you had a lucky escape, Mack. I don't think the girl was right in the head. I'm right in taking it that you two are on honeymoon, aren't I?"

"You assume correctly," I answered in my best 'get lost' voice.

"I thought so. Keep him under a tight rein, Lindsey. Sorry to have imposed on you, but my curiosity got the better of me. Ciao." Then she was gone almost as quickly as she had appeared.

"I'm sorry about that," I said to my wife, leaning across to kiss her.

"Don't be, Mack. Codi existed in our lives for a while, but she's gone now."

I'm not sure but later in the week, it might have been Marge who I saw talking to Lindsey as they came out of a store in Valencia. I was waiting in a bar down across the road whilst Lindsey picked up a surprise for me. If it was Marge, Lindsey never mentioned that she'd seen her again to me and I chose not to enquire.

End of Chapter 10



Mack's Progress Ch. 11 & Epilogue



 Clarification: In British public houses and hotels, it's usually standard procedure to place towels over the beer pumps to signify that the bar isn't open for the business of serving alcohol; especially when the general public has access to the bar area for other reasons. 

*

"See, told you. I'll bet she is!" I heard Millie exclaim to Billie when they met us at the airport arrivals gate."

"Is what?" Francis - who'd brought the terrible two along with him for the ride - asked.

"Preggers, dummy," Billie retorted. "Millie reckons that she's got a sixth sense when it comes to spotting pregnancies.

"Jesus wept already?" Francis retorted.

"Well, you should know how easily these things can happen, Luvver," Billie told him, giving him a hug. "Anyway, we got the wedding timed dead right for Lindsey's fertile time of the month."

"Umm," I said, looking from one to the other of the three women and the bemused looking Francis.

"Well, Millie's probably being a bit premature, but you always said that you wanted children. I came off the pill the day you asked me to marry you." Lindsey smiled at me. "Not angry I hope?"

"Making sure that I wasn't going to get away again, were you?" I said as I kissed her. I'm not quite as daft as I sometimes look; I had noted that I hadn't seen Lindsey taking any birth control pills during the honeymoon.

"Yeah, I should have done that several years ago. I would have saved myself a lot of heartache."

"Both of us." I replied, "But do you really think you could be pregnant already?"

"I doubt it, Mack. Getting pregnant isn't that easy. Jeff and Rachael tried for three years before..." Lindsey broke off in mid sentence and started laughing quietly to herself.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"I was just thinking that it was Rachael's pregnancy that started everything off, wasn't it. If she hadn't been pregnant, then I'd have been at home that night, wouldn't I?" Lindsey kissed me. "Have you ever wondered where we'd have been now, if I had been home that evening, Mack?"

"I'm not with you, Lindsey; I suppose we would have been married a couple of years ago."

"You think. I'm not so sure. God moves in mysterious ways sometimes," she said, giving a Millie a hug.

"I'm not following you, Lindsey."

"Never mind, Mack. It doesn't really matter now. We'll just have to wait and see what happens in the next week or so, to see whether he's decided that it's the right time for me to have a baby."

-----------------------------------

As it turned out Lindsey was pregnant and she delivered me of our first daughter late that autumn, and to cap that the following autumn, Lindsey added a second daughter. Then the following year, James Ellery Mackenzie was to join the family. 

Well, why did you think everybody called me Mack? Can I help it if my mother was into crime stories? The point is anyone with their head screwed on right didn't go through a city school with a name like Ellery; well, they didn't when I was a lad. 

After James came along, Lindsey and I were to figure that three children were enough, so she went back onto the pill permanently. Did something for her general demeanour at times as well. Not that her tantrums ever bothered me much; if you know the root cause of someone's odd fits of temper then they are pretty easy to overlook.

Both Millie and Billie had a son each in the same period of time, Millie dropping another (unplanned) daughter about five years later.

Bugger, I've got ahead of myself a little. Michelle came home from College that first year with Quinn in tow. Tarquin to be precise, but he probably suffered from the same sort of problems that I'd had at school; anyway he went by the name of Quinn. Quinn was studying to become a chef, curiously handy that was to turn out to be in the long term. Whatever, Michelle was in love with him and he followed her around like a lost puppy.

When I met Quinn, my first impression was that he was a pleasant enough guy, but a real wanker. Christ, the guy was clumsy and appeared to be totally inept at just about anything. That was, until he stepped into a kitchen, where you could only describe him as a bleeding genius. Knowing Michelle's appetite for sex, I can only assume that he must have cut the mustard in the bedroom as well; I never heard Michelle complain anyway.

They were married right after their final exams and returned to the Willows, where Quinn's skills in the kitchen soon became famous far and wide. Michelle, who - it became obvious to everyone - wore the trousers in that relationship eventually bore him four children.

Beverley's plans for both pubs came to fruition a lot quicker than I had imagined they would. In the year following my marriage to Lindsey, major structural changes were made during the winter months to both pubs, to accommodate their intended new roles. 

At the Wherry, we had local bands in several nights a week that kept the place fairly crowded most of the year round. And after a year or so, tables had to be reserved at the Willow's most nights during the summer months and every Friday and Saturday night throughout the year.

------------------------

The years seemed to race passed. Our three children grew into fine teenagers and seemed to enjoy village life and living in a public house. As they matured, Louise and Natalie were drawing far too much attention from the boys for my liking. And James - who everyone insisted was his father's son; whatever that's supposed to mean -- was growing into a handsome young man, who had quite a few of the young girls in the village hanging on his every word. I thought he was a great kid, even if he did tend to jump to conclusions a little too quickly for my liking; and he could be damned stubborn on occasions as well.

-----------------------

Louise - Lindsey and my eldest -- had been about ten when my brother Brian moved up to Broad land. Brian had quietly bought into the local holiday boat hire company and eventually took it over completely. Very soon after he moved into the district Julia and her brood moved into the village as well.

Julia worked for Brian part time, and the rest of the time with her husband in the art gallery that he had opened in the village. That was the first inclination that I'd got that Julia's husband was quite an artist on the quiet. Julia swears blind that she was never the model for any of his popular and very erotic nude studies. But I don't believe her, and I doubt anyone else in the village does either.

Lindsey and I had been married for about twelve years, when Beverley formed the company. Michelle, Lindsey and I were called together at Beverley's house for a meeting one day. She and George had moved out of the Willows and it had become -- in all but name -- Michelle's pub by then; besides being her, Quinn and their children's home. 

Anyway that day Beverley informed us all that she was setting up a private limited company that would run the two pubs and the micro brewery that John had set up with Bev and George's financial backing. We had all been aware that Beverley and George had financed John's venture.

Shares in the new company were distributed equally between Beverley, George, Michelle, Patricia and myself. Before I had a chance to say anything, Bev told me that she and the twins considered that I was part of their family, and the twins adopted brother, and that I was not to argue. I've told you before that it wasn't wise to argue with Beverley, especially when she had the twins behind her. 

-----------------------------

Louise must have been nineteen... yeah, it was just before she got engaged, that I got a completely unexpected visitor whose arrival gave me the biggest shock of my life.

It was a fairly quiet morning in early June; James and I were down in the cellar sorting the place out after the delivery dray had made an early call.

As we climbed the stairs back into the bar, I picked up on the end of a conversation that Lindsey was having on the telephone.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Then she listened for a few seconds. "Oh, bugger, how long do you think it will be before they get here?" There was another pause. "No, I'm fine and I agree with you, Bev; I'll say nothing and thanks for the heads up... Oh, hi, Mack!"

I'm not that dumb, the "Hi, Mack" comment was said very loud, so that Beverley would know that I'd entered the bar. Lindsey looked guilty about something as well. She rapidly ended her conversation with Bev and hung up the telephone.

I stood there with what I hoped was an expectant look on my face. But Lindsey didn't bite. Considering that I'd just heard her tell Bev that she was going to say nothing, I wasn't at all surprised when she made some lame excuse and headed for the kitchen.

"Are you expecting anyone, dad?" James asked. He'd obviously overheard the end of Lindsey's conversation as well.

"Not that I'm aware of, son. But I know better than to ask your mother about it, if it's supposed to be a surprise."

James didn't reply but went over to the window that overlooked the car park. Apparently seeing nothing he shrugged and then went out into the garden by the river. I presumed he was on a glass hunt from the previous evening. It was still well before opening time so there were no bar customers around yet. 

Although I must add, James had been eyeing up a young teenager from one of the holiday boats the evening before, so he might have gone prowling. Turning out to be a real a chip of the old block was my son.

Shortly Millie arrived for work in her launch. Millie had her eldest daughter with her and I was already aware that she, Louise and my other daughter Natalie were planning on going off to town in the launch that morning. The point was that a little later I noted that all three girls were still kicking around out in the garden chatting with James.

It fell to Millie to take the towels off the pumps at opening time. She and Lindsey were on duty so I went upstairs to change and have a break before I joined them later when the bar got busy. I suppose I'd only been up there for about ten or twenty minutes when the assistance light started flashing.

We have a button by the till that, when pushed, flashed lamps up in Lindsey and my private quarters to warn us that the bar staff were busy and/or needed assistance.

A glimpse out of the window of our private lounge told me that the gardens weren't very full, so I thought that the bar couldn't be that busy yet. As I headed down the stairs - through another window - I noted that there were only a few cars in the car park, one of them Julia's. So by the time I got to the bottom of the stairs, I was well aware that it was more likely that whoever Lindsey and Bev had been discussing on the telephone earlier had finally arrived.

The main bar was very quiet when I stepped in to it. Lindsey was behind the bar and I noted that she gestured in my direction to a young man she was in conversation with.

He must have stood about six feet tall and despite the warm weather that day, was wearing a formal and rather smart dark grey whistle. As he turned to look in my direction, I noted his very close cropped hair and that for an instant he looked down to check out his appearance, before he took a couple of smart paces in my direction.

"Mr Mackenzie, sir?" he asked, his right arm beginning to make a movement that he quickly checked, and changed to offering his hand for me to shake.

An American, from his accent, about twenty-five years old and in the forces from his body language, I quickly deduced. He'd actually gone to give me a salute, before he had realised what he was doing and from that I guessed that he was nervous about something, but I couldn't figure out what.

Come on, I had two very good-looking teenage daughters and I also had the reputation as a tough pub landlord and father, who didn't suffer fools lightly; so I'd seen quite a few nervous young suitors by then. But both my daughters had steady -- thoroughly vetted and suitably terrified - boyfriends at the time, so I couldn't figure out why this young Yank looked so worried.

"That's right, and what can I do for you, young man?" I replied, surprised that the young man seemed to shrink, the moment I opened my mouth.

"Joseph Conrad Junior, sir," he replied pulling himself to his full height again.

"Well, Joseph, what can I do for you?" 

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted that Lindsey had stepped out from behind the bar and was making her way slowly in our direction. And that Millie, the three girls and James were all stood in the doorway to the garden, watching the proceedings.

"Well, sir... Um, it's like this..." Joseph had a quick look around the bar, then took a deep breath. "It's my girl, sir. She says that I've got to ask her father's permission before she'll agree to marry me."

"So, what's that got to do with me, son?" I asked.

But it was Lindsey who I suppose had taken pity on the guy who replied. "Quite a lot, Mack." Both Joseph and I turned to look at her. "Codi had trouble with a tooth when you were together in France, didn't she?"

"Yes," I said remembering having to take Codi to the local dentist. But wondering how Lindsey had known that and just what kind of tangent my loving wife was going off on this time.

Lindsey does have a talent for going all around the world before she gets to the point.

"Well, my guess is that the dentist prescribed Codi some antibiotics or something. Can you remember?"

"What's going on here?" I asked.

"Antibiotics interfere with birth control pills, Mack," Lindsey said matter-of-factly. "Actually they can often negate the pills effects completely. It appears that our children have a half-sister, Mack. Her name's Mackenzie and I assume that she's out in the car park with her mother."

I looked at the young man again.

"I... I'm afraid that's correct, sir," he said, looking even more nervous than he had before. "Mackenzie insisted that I ask you for your consent to marry her."

I looked back at Lindsey, probably with questioning eyes.

"Today was the first I knew about it honestly!" she replied, to my unasked question. Then added, "Beverley called and told me earlier."

I'm not sure how long I stood there looking from Lindsey to Joseph and back again, and quite honestly, wondering what I was supposed to do next. I had another daughter that for some reason Codi had never told me about. I think I was angry and inexplicably happy at the same time. Angry that Codi had never told me about the child, but then pleased that I had another offspring. A drink was called for, a strong one!

I headed for the bar only to find that Millie, in her usual mind reading way, had beaten me to it and she handed me a large straight rum when I got there. "Another, Millie," I said, knocking it back in one and sagging down onto my usual stool.

Lindsey had followed me over and gave me a quick hug. "You'd better go bring her in, Joseph. Oh, and Codi too, whilst he's still in shock and lost for words," she told the young man.

But before Joe made it to the door, Louise and Natalie came through it dragging a young woman who had to be Mackenzie along between them.

Obviously the thought had crossed my mind that she might not be mine, but those thoughts were quickly dispelled the moment I clapped eyes on her. It could have been a young Julia standing there.

Disengaging herself from my two daughters, Mackenzie took Joseph's hand and he led her over to me. I could see that she looked even more nervous than poor Joe had done.

"I'm sure your half-sisters have told you that I don't bite," I said, smiling and holding my arms out to her. Well, what else could I do?

Mackenzie let go of Joe's hand, stepped into my outstretched arms and we hugged each other.

"Hello, father. I've been waiting all my life to meet you," she whispered into my ear. "But, I didn't know how to approach you. We... I didn't know how you'd react when you heard that I'd been born."

"Silly girl, how could anyone not be overjoyed to know that they had a beautiful daughter like you? Now where's you mother? I think I've got a bone to pick with her." I was trying to inject as much humour into the situation as I could muster with my voice.

"I think she's gone back to the Willows with Aunt Julia, dad," Louise informed everyone. "She seemed worried about meeting you and mum."

I looked over at Lindsey, who had a big grin on her face. It wasn't necessary to say anything; we'd been married long enough to know each other's mind. Lindsey picked up the telephone and began to call the Willows. I knocked back my second rum then got to my feet.

A few short minutes were spent formally introducing Mackenzie and Joe to her half-siblings and Lindsey, although Lindsey was talking to Beverley or George on the phone at the time. Eventually Lindsey gave me the nod that told me Julia and Codi had arrived back at the Willows.

Wrapping my new daughter's hand around my arm, I asked everyone to please excuse us, then, with another look and gesturing nod of the head to Lindsey that she returned, led Mackenzie out into the garden and down to our launch. I wanted to get to know Mackenzie in private for a little while. She asked Joe to get her purse from the car as we went and he delivered it to us at the launch.

I pulled the launch out into the current then throttled back so we were only just maintaining steerage way and headed towards the Willows. At that speed Mackenzie and I would have a good half an hour or so to talk. I knew that Beverley would bring Joe along in the car.

"Your intended seems like quite a nice lad," I commented, using Joe to break the ice.

"Yeah, he's great, and very patient with me, and mother. Mother can get a bit screwy and very possessive at times."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"You shouldn't be, father, it wasn't your fault. The Judge wouldn't go into details, but he told me that mother screwed things up between you and her completely."

"The Judge?"

"Yeah, grandfather; everyone calls him the Judge, even his wife and mother. Look, I don't know exactly what happened, but I've got a good idea. Mother's got some photographs of you and her together hidden away and I found them a long time ago. Oh, she'd shown me some of them, of course, but I've always had one of you and her together on a yacht beside my bed and I've got another of you skiing as well. But mother has kept a lot of them hidden in the closet in her room. I think she gets them out sometimes when she locks herself away in there."

"Oh!" I think was all I could come up with at that point.

"The Judge wouldn't go into details, but from what he did say I worked out that when I was born, they thought that there was a possibility that someone else might have been my father. It doesn't take a brain surgeon to work out that mother cheated on you and you found out about it, does it?"

"Well, you're on the right lines, Mackenzie. Jesus, everyone doesn't call you Mackenzie all the time, do they? Surely you have a nickname."

"No, mother insists on Mackenzie. No one gets away with calling me Mack when mother's around, for obvious reasons."

I made no comment to that.

"The Judge had to organise for mother to go into a clinic when she got back home from Europe and it was whilst she was in there that they discovered that she was pregnant. From what I can make out, the clinic suggested that I should be aborted, but neither the Judge nor mother would allow that. Not that I think mother had much say about anything at the time; reading between the lines mother was..." Lindsey stopped speaking for a few seconds. "She's had a couple of relapses since. Normally after one of her marriages broke up; the Judge tries to make sure that she doesn't get involved with too many men anymore."




Mack's Progress Ch. 11 & Epilogue



"Christ, I'm sorry, Mackenzie."

"Why? It wasn't anything that you did. The Judge said that at the time he hoped that you and mother would get back together eventually but... Look, he never approached you when mother was first ill, because well... for one they weren't sure that you were my father. He didn't know why but mother always insisted to everyone that only you could be. Do you know why?"

I looked across at Mackenzie. "Opportune timing, I should imagine. I thumped the guy before..."

"Oh, god, you didn't catch them whilst they were..?" she interrupted me, with a shocked expression on her face, but didn't complete the question.

I nodded.

"Oh, my, no wonder mother's too embarrassed to face you. And that's probably why she had her breakdown. She loved you a hell of lot you know."

"I loved her at the time. But Codi had a strange way of returning that love!" I commented.

Mackenzie reached out and took my hand. "God only knows what goes on in mother's mind sometimes, father. Anyway by the time mother was right enough in the head for the Judge to approach you to tell you about me, you were married to Lindsey and she was expecting your first child. Louise, isn't it?" 

I nodded. 

"The Judge didn't think it was fair to risk damaging your marriage."

Mackenzie released my hand, then dug around in her handbag and pulled out some papers.

"Look, there's you listed as my father on my birth certificate; I have dual nationality, you know; the Judge insisted. The judge managed to have them name you as my father on my British birth certificate that he got from the embassy as well."

"I thought only British citizens could do that. The registration I mean."

"I think that the Judge can do just about anything he wants to, when he sets his mind to it, father," she said, handing some papers to me for me to read. 

They were copies of two birth certificates, one American and one issued by the British embassy in Washington. Both listed Ellery Mackenzie as the father of Mackenzie Mackenzie and they gave my address as the Wherry.

"Mackenzie Mackenzie!" I read out loud. Probably with a shocked tone to my voice.

Mackenzie giggled, "Mother wanted to make sure that no one forgot who my father was. I think she was still a little... you know, at the time. The Judge didn't want to risk upsetting her, so he went along. I've always found it quite amusing myself. Grandfather's the only person who calls me Mack, by the way; but never when mother's around."

That was the only time that Mackenzie ever referred to her Grandfather as anything other than the Judge.

"So what made you decide to come and find me now, after all these years?"

"Mother and the Judge have always been worried about doing anything that might upset your marriage. They have never gone into details, but I assumed they had their reasons to believe that if my existence became known, it might have caused some trouble between you and your wife."

"I can't understand why."

"Who knows what they were thinking, father? Perhaps they worried you might try to take me from them when I was younger. But I insisted that I wanted to at least see you before I got married. I had always hoped that my real father would be present at my wedding."

"Your real father?"

"Yeah, mother has been married twice. And if you must know, I don't think they stood up to her idea of the perfect husband, or father for me. Neither of them lasted very long. Although I got on with them both pretty well."

"We came over last week and stayed in London. Mother has always wanted to see the Willows, so we drove up and went there for a meal last night. The ladies there, Beverley and Michelle, they were looking at us very strangely. Eventually Beverley... she kept staring at me, and well, she guessed who I was first when Joe called me by name, and then she worked out who mother was, of course. We stayed there last night and she sent us over here this morning.

"Yeah, I knew something was going on because she called Lindsey to warn her that you were coming, but that was hours ago."

"Oh, yeah, well, mother was very nervous about meeting you and your wife. Well, we both were, so we stopped in that little art gallery in the village for a coffee. Of course we had no idea that your sister Julia owned it. She worked out who we were quicker than Beverley had. Your sister's very nice; she came with us to your pub."

"And she's taken Codi back here to the Willows, probably so that we could meet on neutral ground," I replied, as the launch nudged up against the bank.

Beverley was waiting at the garden entranced to meet us. "She's upstairs in our lounge with Julia and Lindsey, Mack. Maybe you should have a word with Lindsey first."

As I'd hoped she would, Lindsey had driven over to the Willows herself as soon as Mackenzie and I had left the Wherry in the launch. She met me at the top of the stairs and gave me a big hug.

"Be gentle with her, Mack. She's very frightened and I think a little delicate as well."

"Yeah, Mackenzie has explained about her mental condition."

"Maybe that's got something to do with what she did in France," Lindsey offered. "You know, she's self-destructive or something. Anyway that was all a long time ago Mack, so please go easy on her."

"I'm more concerned that I wasn't told about Mackenzie than anything else, Lynn."

"Of course you are, but look at it from Codi's family's point of view. Their only daughter has a tendency to be... unstable. Mackenzie is their only grandchild and her father lives on the other side of the world. If you had claimed custody of Mackenzie through the courts, citing Codi's mental problems and won. Well... they'd rarely see her, would they, and what kind of effect could that have had on Codi? She's worried enough now that you'll take her daughter away from her."

I think I could understand the logic of what Lindsey was saying. Although I can't say that I've been happy about the way things had gone. Whatever, I decided that what was done was done and there was little point in arguing about it. It would surely just cause Mackenzie a lot of pain if Codi and I were at loggerheads.

"I can be magnanimous when I need to be, sweetheart." I winked at Lindsey.

"Thanks, Mack, and give her a hug when you get in there." I looked her in the eyes. "Don't worry, I know that you love me and I told her that I'd scratch her eyes out before she'd steal you away from me again." She laughed.

I gave my wife another hug before I entered Beverley's lounge. Actually it was Michelle's lounge but for some reason I've always thought of the Willows as Beverley's place. Lindsey following me to the door from where she gestured to Julia to leave with her as I entered.

The years hadn't been as kind to Codi as they had been to Lindsey; maybe that's why she didn't seem worried about this meeting. As Codi hurriedly jumped to her feet I could see that she'd retained her figure, but the skin of her face showed those all too obvious signs of a face lift. And inexplicably to me there was a look of real fear in her eyes.

"Hi, Codi, long time no see." Stupid statement, but the best I could come up with at the time. She didn't reply; she just looked even more frightened and took a step back. A rabbit caught in a car's headlights is about the most apt description I can give.

So I tried again. "Mackenzie's a beautiful girl. You must be proud of her."

"I'm sorry about Mackenzie. I... We... and then it was too late. I should have told you, but I wasn't..." Codi's words were only just audible.

Seeing Codi's reaction to my presence and knowing what Mackenzie had explained me about her mental condition, I had little choice but pretend that I wasn't upset about the situation.

"Codi, sometimes we do the wrong things with the best of intentions, Mackenzie's told me all about it and I think that I can understand the way the wind was blowing at the time. I'm not happy about it... Christ, I can never be happy about what happened back then. But I'm way too old to worry about that now, or let bygones risk any future relationship I might have with Mackenzie. Or you!" I added on reflection.

"But it was all so stupid. I loved you and I destroyed everything." Codi was crying by then and she looked so pitiful standing there. "They wanted me to abort her, you know. God, I was such a fool."

There's not much point in trying to repeat the rest of the conversation here because it got rather complicated and completely confusing even for me at the time; Codi was trying to apologise for not telling me about Mackenzie and at the same time for what she'd done with the Wanker in France. It took some unravelling, I can assure you.

Years later - and well after her mother's demise - Mackenzie and I came to some mutual conclusions about why Codi did some of the things that she did do, but they would take too long to explain here. I'll try and get back to them later.

Eventually that morning Codi and I signed a peace pact of sorts, and the past was never mentioned when she was around again. Oh and I did give her the little hug that Lindsey had asked me to.

-------------------------

"Codi's a very troubled woman," Lindsey said, later that evening. Which I took to mean that she agreed with me that Codi was balancing on a tightrope and was only just maintaining her sanity.

Codi appeared to relax a lot after our chat together, but of course it was awkward; I think we got through the rest of her, Mackenzie and Joe's visit without very much trauma. 

I got to know Joe well during that visit and grew to like him very much. He was about to be discharged from the forces and under the Judge's guidance - I believe - he went on to take up Law. Eventually he finished up as a business attorney over there and a pretty successful one as far as I'm aware. 

Strange though that Joe still seems unsure of himself around me; especially when he was so at ease around the Judge, in who's company I never did feel comfortable.

The three of them stayed in the UK for four weeks altogether, Codi and Joe lodging at the Willows, and Mackenzie staying with us at the Wherry. It was Joe's idea that he lodged at the Willows; he said it would allow Mackenzie to get to know Lindsey, our children and me better if he wasn't around all of the time.

Remarkably quickly really, Mackenzie bonded with her half siblings and the rest of her newly extended family: Julia, Billie, Brian and their families. Plus of course my parents and my other brother and his family came up for quick visits as well.

It was a sad day for all of us when they left to fly home. I missed Mackenzie much more than I expected I would.

It was early the following January that we flew out to the States for Mackenzie and Joe's wedding. The girls enjoyed being her bridesmaids and James tried his best to play the English gentleman usher; especially round the younger ladies present, several of whom he wrote to for some time afterwards.

Lindsey and I met the Judge and his wife, who I'd better point out wasn't Codi's mother. The tension between the Judge's wife and Codi was hidden quite well, but both Lindsey and I picked up on it very quickly.

It's an odd thing to try to explain but one thing I found very surprising was that Codi appeared to want to be with Lindsey all the time. Almost from the moment we arrived at the judge's house, if I found Lindsey, Codi would be with her. The two girls went on shopping trips and fussed around the wedding arrangements together as well. I mentioned it to Lindsey in bed one evening.

"Yeah, it's strange, isn't it?" Lindsey replied. "You know I was worried that Codi might make a play for you when we came over here. You know, that she'd feel that she had you on her home ground. But she's insisting that I have a say in everything about this wedding; strange, it's as if she's trying to push Mackenzie and me together."

Mackenzie and Joe took to coming over to the UK at least a couple of times a year, although until Joe was qualified I think the Judge financed their visits. They brought Codi with them a couple of times as well after they had their first child. They also attended all three of Mackenzie's half-siblings weddings, Mackenzie playing maid of honour at the two girls weddings.

Lindsey and I tended to spend a couple of weeks in the States every year, but usually during the winter months. As the Judge got older, I was to feel a little more relaxed in his company. I think I was pretty cut up when Lindsey and I had to fly out there at short notice for his funeral. He was getting on a bit, but he had always seemed a pretty tough old bugger; a heart attack took him at some formal dinner.

It was only just over four months after the Judge went, that I received an urgent call from Joe. That morning Codi's body had been found floating in the swimming pool of the Judge's house where she'd been living with her stepmother. We didn't arrive in time to attend the inquest and I sense there was a reluctance to talk about the Coroner's findings, which I believe found Codi's death to have been accidental.

Although later, I was to learn that the autopsy revealed that Codi's system was loaded with what were euphemistically described as prescription drugs, I took them to have been the antidepressants - that I was well aware she'd been on for years - and alcohol, which as a publican, I knew was not recommended. I gathered that some interesting questions had been asked about why Codi had been in the pool in the first place, because she was not in the habit of taking a swim late at night. 

Lindsey and I had to rush back over to the States with the children for the funeral. Mackenzie as you'd expect was pretty cut up about losing her mother and she clung very tightly to Lindsey and me most of the time that we were there.

I think that that was when I realised that Codi's death couldn't possibly have been an accident, and that she had been planning it for sometime. I had always known that she couldn't abide her stepmother and I honestly believe she had delayed taking her own life until after the Judge had passed on.

I deduced from what the attorney who handled Codi's estate said, that she'd been very busy in the intervening months between The Judge and her own demise, making sure that Mackenzie was to get her fair share of the Judge's estate that had been originally divided between the three of them.

Codi's death hit me very hard, harder than I thought it would; although I tried not to show exactly how hard at the time. But I believe Lindsey and Mackenzie both knew. As did Beverley when we returned home again. Beverley and I spent a lot of time talking about the unwarranted - as Beverley termed them - feelings of guilt that I felt over Codi's death.

After Codi's death, I gathered that Mackenzie had little contact with the Judge's widow, who sold his house and moved down to Florida.

Mackenzie began to spend a lot more time in the UK, flying over several times a year. Always with her children and normally accompanied by Joe, who eventually bought a house in the village. It's a bit large to call a holiday home and I think that he might have ideas along the lines of settling over here. He seems to be doing a lot of work with American companies in London in the last year or so and that's increased the frequency of their visits to the UK.

Well that about brings you up to date; how things will go on from here is anybodies guess.

Life goes on

Epilogue

Well that just about brings things up to date, although it wouldn't hurt to add that Mackenzie and I have discussed Codi, and the weird things she did, very often since she's been gone. Mackenzie has come to her own conclusions about why Codi behaved as she did and has tried to explain them to me many times.

It appears -- or so Mackenzie has been trying to convince me -- that Codi really did love me, but she had always had a sort of self-destructive streak. She'd been an extremely rebellious child who'd driven the poor old Judge almost to distraction on many occasions.

Eventually She (Mackenzie) came to the conclusion that Codi's little tryst with the Wanker actor had nothing to do with me at all; it had more to do with the Judge being happy with her choice of me to marry, or rather his enthusiasm for the marriage.

Let me try to explain it as Mackenzie tried to explain it to me. Apparently it all went back to when Codi's mother had passed away and the Judge had remarried. 

Codi had been about six years old and she had not taken her mother's death well. She had been even more upset that the Judge had remarried quite quickly, apparently within the year. What's more his choice of new bride had been a woman who Codi knew that her mother disliked intensely.

Mackenzie seems to have come to the conclusion that there might have been something going on between the Judge and his second wife, whilst her grandmother was still alive and what's more she's convinced that Codi was aware of the relationship. Mackenzie even went so far as to suggest that Codi's mother's death might not have been from natural causes, that the Judge's second wife might possibly have had a hand in things. 

When I asked why Mackenzie would think such a thing. She replied that the thoughts came from odd comments that Codi had made over the years. None of which you could call a definite accusation, more a sort of inference.

Anyway, Mackenzie thought that in retaliation for what she believed, as she'd got older, Codi had purposely set about becoming a real pain in the backside to the Judge and her stepmother. She was always getting into trouble at school, although she was a reasonably good student academically.

Codi just appears to have gone out of her way, to do anything that she could think of to upset her father and stepmother. I won't bother to go into the list of Codi's legal misdemeanours committed in her younger teenage years, that Mackenzie reeled off to me. But take my word for it, it was extensive.

Then Codi had taken up with this guy she met at college, and had suddenly pulled her socks up and began to behave herself. Apparently she was in love with the guy who, it turned out, was quite conservative. Now, the Judge had never been -- lets say -- particularly enamoured with any of Codi's previous boyfriends, consequently he had been in no hurry to meet the guy.

That was fine, until the guy started talking to Codi about marriage and the Judge finally did have meet him. Much to his surprise, the Judge found that he approved of the guy, and that's when things started going wrong.

Three months later Codi was supposed to have found the guy in bed with her housemate. Mackenzie suspects that the reverse was actually true and the poor sod found Mackenzie in bed with some guy possibly a friend of his. He, of course, broke it off. 

That's apparently when Codi went rushing home to the Judge and eventually joined him and her stepmother on their trip to Europe. It was in Paris where she met up with the little crowd that I found her hanging with.

"Sorry to tell you this, dad," Mackenzie told me, "But a barman bumming around Europe, isn't the kind of guy that the Judge had visions of mother marrying. And what's more you can bet your bottom dollar, she knew it." 

"I don't know whether she took up with you in the first place to piss the Judge off. But I do know that she fell head over heels in love with you."

"If you're trying to say, what I think you're trying to say, Mackenzie. Then I doubt that somehow."

"No dad, whether she'd intended to or not, mother loved you more than anyone else in the world... and that includes me."

"Nonsense, kiddo; your mother loved you very much."

"Not as much as she loved you, dad, I can promise you that. I'm sure she had no idea why she went with the actor bloke that day. But I do know that she regretted it for the rest of her life. I think that the Judge giving her the green light to marry you sort of tripped a switch in her brain and she couldn't control what happened after that."




Mack's Progress Ch. 11 & Epilogue



"My mother was the most mixed up person, I've ever known, dad. She had three goals in her life, to see me and you happy! And to do down her stepmother at every opportunity that she could find. I think she succeeded in at least two of those goals. The only trouble was, she had the most miserable life of her own."

"You think so?" I commented, "I think your mother was always happy when she was with you."

"Not as happy as she would have been if we'd all been together, father." Mackenzie replied, then, she hugged me.

Well there it is and "Life Will Go On" as it always has too.

*

 This is the last that you'll read of Mack and his women friends here; that I will write anyway. I'd like to thank the many people who've followed his adventures, trials and tribulations, and who took the time to write to me with their thoughts on the tale. Mack sure did upset some readers in the earlier chapters.

Mack started out as a typical, dumb, proud teenager, who thought he knew it all. And who had the habit of jumping to conclusions far too quickly for his own good. His pride all too often got in the way of his common sense, as well. Like most youngsters, almost any pretty female - with a glint in her eye - could lead Mack around like a pet dog.

Personally I got to like the guy quite a lot towards the end of the tale.  



Macks R Us



Mike and I have been messing about for almost a year now He lives next door and at eighteen is a few months younger than me. He is more delicately built than me and with longish fair hair has a slightly feminine look about him.

What we do started off as normal boyish behaviour. We began as many boys do by groping each other which quickly developed into extended wanking sessions. When the opportunity presents itself, we strip off and mess about, occasionally indulging in oral sex. This doesn't occur as often as we would like because we have to wait until his Mother and Sister are out of the house. Unfortunately my Mother, a semi invalid, is house-bound making it difficult for us to meet there.

Not long ago Mike sheepishly confessed to me that he had been masturbating while wearing a pair of his Sister's panties. This intrigued me so I asked him to let me see what he did. Going to her bedroom he returned, looking slightly embarassed, wearing a pair of wide legged pink nylon knickers, tented out by his rigid prick. I smiled reassuringly and putting my arm round his waist started to gently stroke his raging hard-on through the soft silky material. As I did so he began to tremble and gasp and urge his prick up and down in my hand. Obviously the effect on him was dramatic because almost immediately he spurted copius amounts of spunk into the briefs. Over the next few weeks he continued to rifle his Sister's wardrobe adding to the garments he wore. In addition to always wearing nylon or silk knickers he added a bra, which he padded with rolled up stockings, a slip and more recently a dress or blouse and mini skirt. He tried to get me to dress up as well but lingerie doesn't turn me on. My part in this always involved masturbating him through the panties or sucking his cock as it poked out of the leg opening. He rewarded me by masturbating or sucking me to an orgasm but often said that he wished I had a special fetish or kink that would let him give me the same pleasure.

Several weeks passed before it was again safe for us to meet. On reaching his bedroom we stood close together gently massaging each others rising cocks. After a few minutes he said that he had a confession to make. I immediately thought he had met a girl and wanted to end our relationship. Anxiously I waited to hear what he had to say. "You know how much I like dressing in silk and nylon, well that is not what I like to do best." I immediately thought he was going to say that he wanted to fuck but before I could ask what it was he continued. "I will have to show you." As usual he started to undress and motioned for me to do the same. He then started to put on the undies. He liked an audience and sometimes needed help with buttons or zips. This time he surprised me by stopping when he had only put on his bra and pants. Thinking he had finished I went to take him in my arms but he evaded me and left the room. When he returned, I could hardly believe my eyes, my heart almost stopped beating with excitement. Over his arm, neatly folded, he was carrying what I immediately recognised as a womans mackintosh. Shyly he handed it to me and asked me to help him put it on. I took the garment from him and carefully shook out the folds of the gorgeous material. It was of scarlet crepe silk lined with the softest pale pink rubber. For a moment I held it against my naked body and, while he watched in amazement I buried my face in the smooth rubber lining, inhaling the delicious aroma. Mark walked slowly towards me and turned with his arms out ready for me to help him put it on. Reluctantly I held it so that he could slip his arms into the sleeves. He shuddered slightly as he felt the cold rubber slide up his bare arms, across his shoulders and down his back. I pressed myself closely against him with my straining prick pressed hard into the silky cloth, while I reached round his body and slowly, one by one, fastened the buttons up to his neck. Then I passed the end of the wide belt through the gilt buckle and pulled it tightly round his waist. Lastly I placed the hood over his curls with the rubber lining against his cheeks.

He turned round to face me with a knowing look and taking a fold of the skirt in his hand slowly stroked my rampant cock with the smooth rubber lining.

"Now we have a secret passion to share," he said quietly, "stroking my cock faster. I knew I would cum in a few seconds if he continued so I held his hand still. "I want to enjoy much more before I cum," I said turning him round towards the bed. Standing behind him I began to caress his mackintosh clad body, gently sliding the rustling rubber over his stomach and down his legs. Reaching under the skirt of the mac I slid the knickers down his legs so that he could step out of them. Then with both hands thrust deep into the rubber lined pockets I slowly caressed his balls and rock hard cock with the slithery rubber lining. He gasped as I squeezed the tip and with two fingers moulded the rubber round the throbbing head now moistened with a drop or two of cum that oozed out of the slit. Grasping his cock more firmly I started rubbing it up and down with increasing speed. Almost at the peak of sexual excitement, I gently pushed him down onto the bed so that his groin was just resting on the edge. I then lifted the skirt of the mackintosh and folding it forward laid it across his buttocks rubber side uppermost. Spreading his legs wider I thrust a fold of the rubberised silk into the cleft of his ass and leaning forward I pushed my eager prick into this delicious channel. Gripping Mark round the waist I began a fucking motion and as I moved forward, Mark was also pushed forward with his prick also sliding on the rubber lining and as I slid my prick back so I pulled him back. Our enjoyment was enhanced by both the wonderful rubbery smell and the music of the rustling mackintosh. Gradually the pace increased until our ultimate goal was reached and we flooded the rubber lining with many copious spurts of our spunk.

Exhausted we lay for several minutes before rising up to sit side by side on the edge of the bed. "That was wonderful," exclaimed Mark, smiling at me and taking my hand said, "Thank you, I have always been excited by mackintoshes but thought I was the only one and was scared to tell anybody." I have been passionately fond of rubber mackintoshes all my life," I replied, "and at last I have found someone who will share my love with me."



Macky Dees



Warning, this story has a very intense theme. Expect it to be disturbing. Based on where you found this story, you will probably be turned on by the beginning. However at the end, it should be clear that something wrong happened. It should illuminate how we consume news of bad things happening to people as entertainment. There is no denying that many would find the headline of what happened as titillating. Yet, the actual experience that the person lived through was very sad. Read this as an examination of the conflicting feelings.

The story is very loosely based on reality. Video surveillance tapes have been released on the Internet. Wikipedia has a detailed article about the incident.

---------------------------------

"Macky Dees, Farnhamville, Joe speaking. How can I help you?"

"I am officer Scotty. We have a report that a suspect may be working at your business. The suspect is female, white, slight build, blond hair. Does that description match any of your employees?"

"Sir, we have about 70 employees, many of which are female and blond. Do you have any more information?"

"This is privileged information, because we don't want anyone to know how close we are. Her first name initial is 'L'."

"No, Laurie is a very hefty girl, definitely not slight."

"Maybe, she goes by another name..."

"Officer, my manager just told me that you need to come down here, if you want any more information. He told me to hang up right now, as I am not authorized to speak on behalf of Macky Dee Corporation."

Click.

"Macky Dees, Harcourt, Karl speaking. How may I help you?"

"I am officer Scotty. We have a report that a suspect may be working at your business. The suspect is female, white, slight build, blond hair. Does that description match any of your employees?"

"If you got a warrant, you come down here. Otherwise, fuck you very much!"

Click.

"Macky Dees, Churdan, Janet speaking. How may I help you?"

"I am officer Scotty. We have a report that a suspect may be working at your business. The suspect is female, white, slight build, blond hair. Does that description match any of your employees?"

Janet swallowed. Her body heaved with tension. Her body was the shape of a pyramid. Her head was the pointed tip. Down from there, her torso expanded into every which direction with her fat hip being the ultimate foundation. She wore a dark blue shirt-pant combo that was oversized with many ripples in the clothing. It gave her body the outline of a blob without definition. The mouth with the flaming red lip stick in the pale face dropped open.

"Oh gosh, oh gosh, the police," she muttered under her breath. She waved her arms to get enough momentum to slip off the round, hard plastic disc that served as a bolted-in seat. Everything about the tiny restaurant was cheap, sturdy, and vandal-proof. The chairs and tables were bolted to the floor. The shine of the white tiles had gone. A thin permanent coating of gray grime covered it. The small fast food counter fit one registry and a big glass case with factory made apple pies, guaranteed to be 100% sugar, chemicals, and artificial flavor.

"I got to take this in my office." Janet was already panting from the effort of walking and the adrenaline had her eyes starring wild ahead at the door handle of her office. It was a small 7x7 feet cube filled with boxes of personnel records, promotional items, and cleaning supply. That's all that was needed for a place serving a rural Iowa city with a lazy main street up front.

"We got a new girl working the floor right now. She looks so innocent. She is barely 18. I can't belief her having gotten into any trouble."

"Is the initial of her first name 'L'?"

"Oh, yes, Lisa Forrester is her name."

"I think we got our suspect. There is a small reward out in her name. You may be able to collect it, if you help us in apprehending her."

"Oh, no, it must be drugs. She must have gotten into drugs, poor girl."

"Janet, I cannot share case confidential information with you. A police car is on the way. In the meantime, I need you to go back in the store and be my eyes and ears. Observe her from the distance and report back to me."

Janet stood behind the counter holding the cordless phone in her hand. Roger, a black, tall lanky college kid, was punching orders into the register. His eyes looked bugged and glanced at the timer in the top right corner every ten seconds. The counter constantly egged him on to get his average order taking time to under 80 seconds. There was a line of five corn fed customers waiting for lunch. A bulky construction worker had a pink fedora feather in his wavy dark hair. A five year old was holding a colorful toy car high in the air pretending it to be a plane.

Lisa was bent over a table corralling the yellow burger wrappers, red food baskets, and paper cups into a pile. A dirty, used, originally white cleaning rag lay twisted on the table. Her arms moved lanky and awkward like teenager ripped out of her world of playing all day in her room to doing something productive in an adult world. Her face looked contemplative at the pile of refuse. She tried to balance the cups on the garbage pile. Then, she put some garbage in the cup to lower the pile. That worked better. She smiled. Her hair was dirty blond and hung down limp from the low end shampoos.

"Janet, describe her clothing."

Lisa wore Old Navy sneakers with neckless socks, so that it seems like the foot is barefoot in the shoe. Yet close observation usually finds a sliver of white sock near the opening of the shoe. Her jeans had a stiff and tube shaped cut to it that little conformed to her body. The white t-shirt was size S and fit her snuggly. The fabric was fluffy from the many washes. The bra strap clearly showed on her back, when she was leaning forward.

"None of the witnesses were able to give us a precise description. We need us to give clothes sizes."

"Oh, that's maybe a 26 inch jeans. Shoe size is 6. That's definitely an S-size t-shirt."

"What's her bra size."

"Gosh, you need to know that as well. I have to wait until she turns around."

Lisa turned around to go for the garbage can. She began sprinting with a slightly desperate face. She seemed worried about her job performance, not cleaning fast enough. Her feet flung sideways in a funny way, as she was running. She bumped into a customer's stuck out elbow. "So, sorry," she said while brushing the man's arm. The man looked surprised and thrown out of contemplation.

"Such a goose! She is a B or C cup. She is so young. They look like they will still be growing."

"Janet, I got bad news. The car en route was diverted for a code 604. You have to apprehend her for us and hold her until we can send another car. Ask her to go to your office without causing a scene."

"Okay."

Janet swung around the corner and walked straight up to Lisa sorting the refuse into recycling and trash. Being empowered by acting on behalf of the police, she stood a little too close. Lisa was taken aback by the sensation of the large rolling body right next to her. Lisa had to be careful getting up to avoid touching Janet. "Yes, Janet!" Lisa had the worried look of a dear on her face. There was a little quiver in her voice.

"Come with me to my office."

Janet turned around without question. Lisa tried to get around the large body ahead of her. "Janet, I'll try working harder. I swear I'll bring out the trash more often. That dumpster smells so awful. Yet, I'll do it. I really want to learn this job!"

Without turning, Janet hissed, "You are in deep trouble, Missy."

"Janet, try to keep it low key or she may try to escape."

"What did I do?"

"Keep quiet and get her into your office."

"What did I do? I deserve to know what I did wrong." Lisa's voice was thin and her eyes were teary. Her heart was thumping. "I'll work for free for a week to learn the ropes. My aunt told me nobody hires inexperienced help. I need to get started somewhere. I'll clean the bathroom, too."

The door shut closed. The room penned them close together. There was only one place to stand for Lisa between the boxes and guest chair piled on with aprons. Janet had only one place for her large body behind the desk. Lisa's body was shivering with stifled sobs. Her arm hung down lifeless on the lanky girl with slight build. The emotion got Janet riled up to proof that she had taken the right role. Until now she had been cautiously listening to the officer. Now, her face was heaving with anger to proof that she was right to detain Lisa.

"That's the police on the phone. They finally caught you. You little filthy thief were trying to take advantage of my gullible nature. You better confess now."

"I didn't do anything," cried out Lisa. Her eyes were pulled open white. Her lips moved wide, when she talked. Saliva showed and the red flesh of her mouth was evident in the moment.

"Janet, you need to remain calm. She may try to send a message to her accomplices. You need to search her for cellphones and pagers."

"Come here, you," hissed Janet. Janet reached for Lisa's arm. A box of papers was knocked of the desk. Lisa instinctively pulled her arm away and pushed against Janet with the other arm. Janet got her rump around the desk and hit the sharp desk corner with a yelp. Then, Janet pushed Lisa's arms above Lisa's head against the wall and pinned them there with one hand. The other hand frisked Lisa's back. The space in the little jeans pockets was narrow. There was a bundle of two twenty dollar bills and a rimstone decorated cell phone. Janet knew that a bra made for a good hiding space. She felt up the stiff, smooth bra cup.

"Take your shoes off." Lisa kicked of her shoes. She stood on the balls of her tiny white low-cut socks trying to avoid the cold floor. Lisa's face had a newfound composure assuming that the worst was over. Janet backed away from her body and emptied the guest chair for her to sit. Janet heaved herself behind the desk. She looked wedged into place in between the desk and the wall. Her fatty arms rested on her belly holding the phone and money.

"Pass the phone to Lisa," said officer Scotty with a stern voice. Janet went passive with the phone out of her hand starring at her desk. The adrenaline was slowly calming down in her.

"Officer Scotty here. Lisa, what is your full name and address?"

"I didn't do anything!" Lisa cried out and jumped on her seat.

"You got to shut up and follow instructions."

"Lisa Simone Forrester, 304 13th street. I live with my ma."

"You have a choice here. I want you to carefully consider. It's the same to me. You can admit to your crime. And, we will work something out. Or, you get the full treatment of a criminal."

"But, I didn't do anything!"

"Okay, pass me back."

"Here Janet."

"Janet, she is not cooperating. I take it that you are a manager. I have your company's headquarter on the other line. The HR person tells me that your employment agreement requires your full corporation with the authorities. This is a serious case. However, all the police cars were diverted to a major code. It may take a long time to get out to your rural location. So, we need you to collect evidence. For that evidence to be admissible in court, we need to swear you in as a citizen deputy."

"Of course, I will fully cooperate with the law, sir."

"Take any communication devices out of your office, lock the door, and find a trustworthy person as a witness."

Janet stepped out of the office with the office phone, cordless, and cellphone pressed against her chest with one arm. The key clicked the door shut. The hallway was narrow, dark, and filthy. She stepped up to Roger, the college boy with the paper hat on. She pulled him into the kitchen with the small stainless steel prep table and deep fryers bubbling oozing oil. Shelves at head level had openings of plastic bags intruding into the room. Janet swatted one out of her hair.

"Roger, the police is on the line. Lisa has done something very bad. You have to swear me in as a deputy citizen."

"A' you k'ddin me, ma'am? Have you been watching too many Westerns?"

"It's not uncommon here in rural Iowa. The police is stretched thin, you Chicago muffin head."

Janet raised her right arm and placed her left arm on her chest. Roger held the phone, "a' righty, ma'am. Cop's a gonna tell me what I tell you to tell me." Roger had black stubble on his face. His hair was cut stylishly like a hip club dancer. He wore a big white shining apron. Janet looked on earnest with big bags under her eyes.

"My name is Janet Sybille Hansen. I swear to uphold the law. I swear to obey the chain of command without question. I give up my constitutional rights to expression of freedom, while in the duty of the country. I clearly understand that I am only allowed to apprehend. I am not allowed to prosecute or act as a judge in my role as citizen deputy."

"Cop says you are an official citizen deputy now. He says you need to wait for the system to generate your deputy number. And, I need to get back to my customers."

Janet found a pen behind a bug of fluffy buns. She wrote the number on her palm "42378."

"Janet, you are now a citizen deputy. You need to arrest Lisa. Then, you need to remove all her clothes and put them into a bag. She may be hiding evidence."

"Yes, sir."

Janet jiggled her big key chain to open the office again. Lisa was sitting on the guest chair with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around the shins. She was really quiet. Her eyes followed Janet low and guarded.

"I'm sworn in as a citizen deputy. You are herewith arrested. You have the right to remain silent. Anything that you say may be used against you in court. Stand up."

Lisa stood up. Her arms were hanging. Her face was hanging down sad. Her hair seemed even limper.

"Pick up your shoes and put them into this plastic bag on the desk." The plastic bag had the sides rolled down so that it stood open. Lisa stood up, bent over, and deposited the shoes.

"Socks next." Lisa pulled the socks off her feet. She had pink polish on her toes. The feet were small and skinny.

"Your t-shirt." Lisa grabbed the bottom sides of her t-shirt with crossed arms and pulled the t-shirt over her head in a twist. She wore a white bra with stiff shape that held her boobs like a glass holds water – pooling at the bottom. Her belly was silky smooth and skinny. Without her top, she seemed even smaller of a girl. Her right foot twisted sideways to express her unease. And, she dropped off the t-shirt into the bag like a hot potato."

"Your jeans." Lisa unbuttoned the jeans. Her small size had only two jeans buttons. Then, she stripped them down her thigh and pulled her feet out of them. Her panties were pale yellow. They had a snug simple fit with a tiny bow at the front. Lisa looked very docile at the wall. Her arms hung slightly from her body leaving a little gap, missing a little of the touch that would have soothed herself.

"All of it? Okay, sir. Your bra as well."

"No," whined Lisa. Her face was torn with pain. Her arms clutched around her chest. Janet got quickly around the table, started pulling on the bra, before she realized that she needed to be careful about unhooking at the back. Lisa's arms pushed against Janet's big body. The hands landed on Janet's large saggy boob and wobbly belly. They sunk inches deep without having any impact on the much larger woman.

Next, Janet grabbed her fatty hand around the front of the panties and pulled them down. In resignation, Lisa helped pulling her feet up to step out of it. The slightly build blond girl was standing naked in the ramshackle office. A solitary tear ran down her cheek. Janet felt ever more empowered in her role after she had to put down the struggle.

"Search the clothing. We are looking for a tiny piece that she may be hiding on her body. In particularly, run your fingers along every seam. That's where criminals tend to sew in contraband."

Janet put her large, big rimmed glasses on. She diligently folded over the jeans. She held the panties in her hand. They were so tiny compared to her own tent sized panties. She carefully felt along the seam of the panties. The material was so soft and sensual. She kind of enjoyed it and was jealous of the life the a young sexually active girl would have.

"It's all clear."

"You have to secure the evidence in a lockable place. Is your car nearby?"

"Yes."

"Lock the clothes there. Before you go, you need to find a responsible person to hold Lisa in custody. Now that she is in custody, you are responsible. You can never leave her alone, because she may harm herself."

"I'm calling Roger in here. Can I cover her up with an apron at least? The poor girl is all naked."

"Yes."

"Roger, come in here!"

While Janet was gone, Roget sat in Janet's chair. The lanky black man caressed his stubble and opened his mouth to show his red mouth and shining white teeth. It was a gesture to defuse the nervosity inside of him. To Lisa, it seemed like a deliberate, appraising gesture. She looked abashed to the floor. She tucked the white apron in place. The clothes of the apron were hard to fix in place on her body and kept sliding. She was careful to have her legs crossed and the apron high enough to cover her décolleté. Yet, the sides of her hips were still exposed.

Roger's gaze crawled slowly over her body. He took in the skin of her knees that were trying to twine themselves around each other thrice. The fair skin of her whole side was exposed. With the adult Janet gone, Lisa's face had turned to a renegade expression. The knowledge that Lisa was naked underneath was potent in the room.

"Don't worry girl, you are covered well." Leaning forward with a conspiratorial face, he inquired, "Just between you and me, what did you do?"

"Maybe, I made a mistake on last night's cash drop. I was short two cents. So, I just put two of my own cents in. I didn't think much about it. Maybe, the two cents were the sign of a bigger irregularity."

"Oh, that bastard Sam is probably ripping off the store big time. He was closing last night. You gotta be careful in what you get wrapped up."

"Can you tell that to Janet?" pleaded Lisa.

"No, girl. Hell no! I ain't getting wrapped up in your trouble. Can you imagine my black ass butt naked in jail like you are? They ain't playing nice with our kind. You just go along and everything will be a'right."

Janet opened the door. Roger jumped out of the chair, mumbled 'customers', and stormed out. Janet seized up Lisa standing in the door and nodded knowingly.

"Scotty told me everything. The headquarters had contacted them. They were planning to close down my store, because the losses were too high. They ran one more check on the numbers and found a theft. The store would do fine without the theft. The police think that you are keeping the money in a safe deposit box. They think that you might have the key hidden on your body. It sure wasn't in your clothes."

"Put your feet on the desk. Between toes is where inmates tend to hide contraband. You have no chance. The police know everything about how you crooked people operate."

Lisa put a foot on the desk. With the knee raised, her pussy was exposed. The lips folded open, letting the pink insides dangle free in the air. After carefully moving all the tootsie toes around, Janet kept staring at Lisa's mound. She hesitated to take in the wrinkled folds and the hood of the clitoris. Janet opened her mouth and licked her lips with apprehension.

"That's the next place, we gotta look for that key."

Janet got a big jar of white hand crème out of a desk drawer. Lisa's eyes opened wide. She put both of her hands around her vagina and clutched her hands around them. She held the soft wet flesh in her palms. Janet cleared a box of the table and laid Lisa on the desk over stacks of paper and other desk knick knack.




Macky Dees



"Now, if I gotta force my way, it'll hurt. You better cooperate."

Lisa placed her hands on the inside of her thighs, close to her vagina, holding onto her bent knees. Janet reached with the hand into the white hand lotion jar to swirl a good load on her hand. Janet smeared the ounces of cream onto Lisa's pussy. The white lotion and pink tissue created a pattern. Lisa inhaled deeply at the sensitive and moist touch. All her nerve endings were stimulated. Janet kept smearing the cream around out of worry to be careful. Lisa kept getting stimulated. She could feel the happiness beating in her heart mixed into the bitterness of the situation.

Janet slid one finger into the opening. She tried to slide the second finger in to get deeper. Two normal fingers would have fit. However, Janet's fingers were so fatty that she felt the tight unmovable boundary of how far the opening stretched. "Girl, I need you to relax. I can't properly get in." Janet gently massaged her finger in and out, twisting it, and stretching to the sides of the opening. "Just a little warming up." Lisa faced the wall away. She was struggling to compartmentalize her sensual feelings with the cold situation.

"Got it!" smiled Janet. "Well, I got in. I didn't find anything." Janet smiled nervously like a teenager guilty after masturbating in mom's bed. She tried to get the hand lotion of her hands. There was no hand towel around. She got some old accounting rims and a brochure for the nearby vacation resort to smear the excessive hand lotion off.

"What now, Scotty?"

"Make her do jumping Jacks. If she is hiding the safe deposit key anally, it'll fall out."

"It's too cluttered in this room."

"Can you take her elsewhere?"

Janet grabbed the naked Lisa by the neck and guided her into the kitchen. Lisa ducked her neck low. Her bare feet made flopping sounds on the floor.

"I have put all my savings and energy into this franchise. I sure am not going to lose it to a thief. You are going to do some jumping jacks now."

Lisa made a gingerly jump. Her feet were jumped hip wide. She held her arms in front of her chest in a prayer pose. Janet stomped onto the ground and yanked Lisa's hands high. "Do it right." Lisa started jumping with abandon. Her feet flung wide apart. Her arms made full circles. Her boobs bounced like a Kentucky rodeo. Her hair flung in wild abandon in all directions. Her lungs panted. Janet looked on self-righteously like a cat waiting in front of a mouse hole. She was ready to lunge for anything that might shake off.

"Make her do pushups!"

Lisa's body was in a plank. Her shoulder plates pointed to the ceiling. Her gentle back muscles bulged with definition. The dirt blond hair was hanging over her head. Her butt had firmed into a tight ball with sweat glistening on it. She was fighting against gravity and the grimy, greasy floor that both pushed her, where she only touched with her toes and hands in deep disgust.

Roger entered the entrance of the kitchen and starred from the sinews showing on the bare soles up the youthful legs to take it all in. Like caught in a dream, Janet waved Roger to get out.

"Ma'am, a big crowd showed up. I'm a busting, but there ain't no way, I can stock and serve at the same time. I need you out there, sweet heart. I don't know what kind of shenanigans you are doing in the back here. I need either you or her out there."

"Scotty, a situation has come up. I need to work."

"Do you know any trustworthy person to hold Lisa in custody?"

"Well, my husband works next door. He could come over."

The husband showed up in a minute with his flimsy, balding hair raggedy from the wind and air. He wore a big blue t-shirt with pen stains. The tie was knotted too short and hung sideways on the big belly anyway.

"What? What do you need me to do for our business? Our savings are in here."

"Officer Scotty on the phone will tell you about it. I have to help Roger. The business is getting slammed."

The husband was left alone in the kitchen with the naked waitress and the ancient bulky off-white cordless in his hand. He seized up the naked girl. "Don't you have any clothes to put on?" Lisa only hid her face embarrassed in front of the middle aged man with the shifty face. The husband full on stared at Lisa's titties. They were just like the porn that he wanked off to.

"Archer here. Who is this?"

"Officer Scotty here. You are holding Lisa Forrester in custody. She is a suspect. Our officers are clearing up a big code. They will be there in a few minutes to pick her up."

"She's naked."

"That's standard procedure to secure evidence hidden in her clothes until an officer can properly search her."

"That's fine with me. She's pretty."

"While we are waiting, maybe you can get her to confess. Sometimes a male is more authoritative. Your wife did very well. However, if you asked her, she may be compelled to start talking."

"What did you do? And, where is the key?"

"I did not do anything. I don't have a key. I am completely stripped naked. What else are you going to strip off?"

"She's denying all."

"Tell her to sit on your lap."

"That's funny but all right with me. Lisa, come to the office and sit on my lap."

"She is standing in front of me and shaking her head."

"You are going to sit down on my lap. Listen to the police!"

"She ain't doing it."

"You gotta make her listen to you or she may realize that you are made of sugar. Then, she might try to make a break for it."

Archer closed the door knowing that it would get loud. He slid his body past Lisa's again to sit down on the desk chair. Then, his brawny, hairy hand slapped her loud on the butt. The shockwave rippled through her butt tissue. She yelped briefly. Her hands instinctively let go of the shield over her pussy to cover her buttock. Thus, sexually exposed, she looked at the man unbelieving. "Sit down," and Archer's other hand reached around her and slept the unprotected buttock with weight. Another slap. Another gasp.

Each hand covering a buttock, he took a slap for her face. The hair flew wild. Her mouth opened wide. Her cheek reddened. Her senses are thrown into turmoil. She quickly sat down on the lap with worn office pants. The small naked teenager was on the lap of the obese, sloppy office worker. He had wrapped his arms around her. She had to accept his clothes fabric all over her skin. The fabric had his essence in it, the careless lack of cleaning, the stains, the smell, the bad fashion taste.

He felt himself getting turned on holding the little, hot body on his lap. He indulged in her useful feminine smell. He looked deeply into her blue haunted eyes that were so close to his face. His hands had wrapped around her thigh and side torso. The skin felt so smooth and warm. He could get a real sense of her frame. His heart felt connected to her chest rising against his chest with every breath. He laughed the little quivers that ran through her body.

"Scotty, I could be a cop all day. This is fun."

"We are going to do a technique, where you request her compliance repeatedly and raise the level each time. When it works, in the end you can ask her to confess and she will do it. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Ask her to kiss you."

"What?"

"It's not orthodox. As a cop, I can't do that legally. However, you are a citizen. There is a gray area that we can use to bring her to justice."

"Lisa, the cop wants you to kiss me."

Lisa raised her lips into a scrunched up pose to deny the aged, fat cheeked, smoke-smelling, acne-scared face to get close to her innocent lips. Archer's face remained calm, which relaxed Lisa. He started caressing her hair back. She instinctively relaxed into the caring touch. Once, he had collected all the hair in a ponytail, his fist wrapped around it, and forced her head forward onto his lips. His wet tongue darted through her pressed together lips that were blowing pressed air out in protest. His tongue meandered around her shut teeth licking the inside pocket between her lips and her teeth.

Her hands were wandering all over his body pressing away. She pressed against the fat chest. The hands sunk deep into the belly. Her whole body being forced to lean forward made her reach down. She touched his crotch and find the erection.

"Let me tell you, you are a good kiss," and archer wiped her spit from his lips.

"What next?"

"Kiss her breast."

"Are you sure that this is all legal? I feel a bit like raping her. However, if this is all within the law, I am the last to complain."

"Definitely! You are all alone, right? It'll be her word against yours. We do this frequently. Getting criminals to talk isn't all pretty like on TV."

His thin lips eagerly dove onto her hardened nipples from the cold air on her sweaty skin. Her boobs were so soft that he massaged them with one hand, while holding on to her pony tail with the other. There, Lisa felt again that odd mixture of sensual arousal in a dim environment. She tried to wreathe herself free. She ended up sliding down over his body to end up at his knees. She felt the hard erection in his pants on the way down.

Archer unbutton the pants on his own accord to free the hard erection under his belly. The office with the old stuff piled in it felt as campy as possible. The exposed penis on the fully dressed man with the bare naked, crying teenager at his knees created the feeling of a porn movie. He placed her hand on his shaft and cooed her on "just kiss it."

Roger stormed into the office. The white of his eyes standing out stark in his black face, he screamed, "He's forcing her to give him a blow job." He whipped out his cellphone and called 911.

Archer yelled, "talk to Scotty. This is all legit."

"That mother fucker is a dirty cop."

They stood in silence, while the 911 line kept ringing and ringing. Janet joined them with a speechless face. Lisa was still naked on her knees with archers penis inches from her face.

"911 operator. What is the situation?"

"I need a full force police response at the Mackey Dees in Churdan. We've got a way fucked up situation here. And, there is a dirty cop involved."

"Sir, keep down the language. Tell me step by step, what happened."

Within 60 seconds, the whine of police sirens filled the parking lot. The tires bounced hard over the curbs, as they did not pay attention to the proper parking lot entrance or pavement lines. A trooper with stiff, black leather uniform and white helmet crashed through the doors. "Everyone stay down." He stormed into the back facing the three employees and the husband. The husband was still so shocked that he held Lisa's face inches from his hard cock.

The cop took one look, ripped Archer out of his seat, and smashed him head first onto the grimy, greasy kitchen floor. The head made a loud bang upon contact with the concrete. Archer's eyes looked dazed and unfocused. His hands tried to steady himself. A second cop stepped onto Archer's legs with his heavy boots and steadied himself against the wall with both hands. Archer moved his head around drowsy. The first cop yelled into Archer's face with spit flying, "Are you going to resist? Are you?" He already held the maze spray pointed into Archer's eyes waiting for the tiniest movement.

Archer stopped breathing to be as still as possible. The cop's nostrils were moving with anger. The cop really wanted to unload a whole can of law enforcement grade maze into the scum bags face. However, Archer held his breath long enough.



Meanwhile in Tampa, Florida, a white police car lazily rolled up in front of one of the last left over public phone booths in a big box supermarket parking lot. A cop with perfectly, crisp uniform stepped out of the car. The golden stitches of his rank were glowing in the tropical sun. He wore big black glasses that covered most of his face. A neatly, full, and carefully trimmed mustache adorned his face. He had a mouth piece with a little cotton ball in front of his lips.

He suavely meandered up to the phone booth. The second cop was watching with his chin arms resting on the police car and an entertained look on his face. The first cop smiled warmly at the man in the phone booth, "I believe we have a date." The man in the phone booth wore a Hawaiian shirt with many colors and parrots with big beaks painted on. The shirt was tugged out and hung over his shorts. He stood there with his blond hair as a floppy as his flip flops.

The cop powerfully grabbed the dazed man by the neck to guide him to the police car. On the way out of the phone booth, the cop slammed the man's face hard and fast against the metal enclosure of the phone booth. Deep red blood ran down his face instantly. "Oops, my bad. I'll get you the police violence form, right when we get to the station."