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Elizabeth 07: Before the Storm

By: YDB95



Hindsight is such a very queer mistress. Of this I am reminded again and again in recounting the escapades of my youth and my dear friends in Westfordshire City. Time and again in those wonderful days, I feared a lovely era in my life was over, only to grow stronger and happier in the long term. Had I only known when the era truly was to come to a traumatic, irreversible end, I'd have spent far less of my precious time worrying about such things, and more of it enjoying the precious days we did have to share!

When I lost Edward to his realization that he preferred men to women, I feared I would never love again. Instead, I embarked upon a wonderful era of self-exploration and tasted the pleasures of men and women alike who appreciated my woman's breasts and thighs. When I stumbled into my affair with Irene, I feared it would put a fast end to our friendship. Instead, it only strengthened our bond (and also led directly to the most erotic afternoon of my life!). When Elizabeth and Jonathan were married, I feared it would change or even end the strong intimate bonds all our gang shared as friends. Instead, there continued to be countless evenings in the baths and the natural intimacy that setting always inspired, with the added spice of her many tales of married life. Even the birth of their first daughter, Catherine, did not dampen the fire of our friendship. It did mean Elizabeth had less time for the baths and other such fun; but that only made the times we did enjoy that much more intense. 

No, as with many generations before ours and, regrettably, since ours, it was war that destroyed our innocence. Long rumoured in the newspapers, my generation's war was an unavoidable glint on the horizon when Elizabeth gave birth to her second daughter, Margaret, on a misty April afternoon. On that happy and hopeful note began what proved to be, ever and always, the last summer of its kind. 

I have ever since been grateful for the memory of Margaret's coos and cries that rang out through the summer. If such an idyllic interlude as we had shared throughout our time in Westfordshire City had to come to an end, I am most thankful that its final days were marked by the hope and joy that only a baby can bring. 

The cries of three babies were ringing out in Uncle and Aunt's sitting room on the afternoon that summer truly began. Little Joy - now fourteen years old and unusually mature for a youngest child of that age, but still very young at heart in her own way - had been all but begging me to have Elizabeth over for tea with Margaret in tow; and at last my work schedule and her domestic one offered a free Saturday afternoon in common. Irene, now happily married to Gregory for two years, brought her six month old son Frank along as well. 

"I say, Auntie Agnes," Joy asked me while adoring all the little ones from a comfortable vantage point on the rug, "Why haven't you written about the babies in any of your columns? They'd make for so many adorable stories!"

"I've often been tempted," I confessed. "But I do my best to leave my friends out of my writing." I had, for nearly a year by then, been the proud author of a weekly column in the Westfordshire City Herald, entitled "Girl About Town" and focusing on the challenges and joys of being a young professional woman in the city. From the day I was first approached about writing, by an editor who was impressed with a legal brief I had written for the paper, I had promised all my friends that I would not air their personal business in my column. In the case of Elizabeth and Irene, of course, that was an easy promise to keep, for even a fairly average afternoon together was likely to inspire some racy conversation at the least. 

"We appreciate that, Agnes," Elizabeth said. "But you know, I think a column about life as both a mother and a professional would be most timely. There are more of us all the time who can identify."

"Amen!" Irene added. "And Joy is right, a baby story now and then would be adorable. In fact, it would be perfect for lightening the mood when we could all use a bit of that."

"Whatever do you mean, Irene?" Elizabeth asked. "I've been sensing something in the air with you this afternoon, as a matter of fact. Is all well?"

It was then we learned Irene had some news that might have been welcome under other circumstances, but was most bittersweet on this occasion. "I received a letter from Benjamin yesterday," she confessed.

"Benjamin?" I asked a bit too cheerfully, never knowing just how to broach the subject of the love I had had a hand in destroying, despite Irene's frequent rejoinders that she did not blame me for anything. "How has he been?"

"Quite well, I gather," Irene said. "But I'm afraid he's coming back to Westfordshire."

"Oh, dear," Elizabeth said. "And now you and Gregory..."

"Oh, that is no concern!" Irene said, I thought a bit too shrilly. "He knows all about Gregory and I believe he's been settled with someone else over there as well. No, it's the reason why he's coming back here." She looked wistfully down at Frank, and back up at us. "To join up."

"Oh, no," Elizabeth said. "What is it about men, just having to be heroes!"

"Don't I know it!" Irene did her best not to look angry, but she did not quite succeed. "Gregory has been on a tear about how he'll have to do his part, and nothing I've been able to say has dissuaded him. And now this as well - worrying myself about two men I love!"

"Jonathan as well," Elizabeth said. "I'm absolutely terrified, to be frank."

"In any event, Benjamin wants to see us all while he's here - especially me, he said, and Frank, too. He only wrote 'the baby', of course, as I haven't had a chance to write to him since Frank arrived." Seeing Elizabeth's sceptical look, she continued, "The point is, he knows I have a family now! He only wants to see me!"

"Yes, but do you want that?" Elizabeth asked. "That is what I am wondering about."

I wanted to concur with Elizabeth, but as was usually the case when the topic of Benjamin came up, I thought it best to keep my mouth shut. 

"I don't know what I want," Irene admitted. On that note, she squeezed Frank a bit too hard, and he let out a shriek on which Catherine and Margaret promptly joined in. 

For all the competing cries and shrieks, Joy was in heaven. She was especially smitten with Frank, having lately grown out of her boys-are-icky stage at last; when Irene needed to change his diaper a few minutes later, Joy looked on in shameless fascination. "Do you think little Frankie minds being the only boy among us?" she asked. 

"I rather doubt he has any idea of it all, dear," Irene said. 

"Wait a few years and he will," Elizabeth predicted. "And a few years after that he'll love being the only boy in the room if he has anything to say about it. Isn't that right, Joy?"

Joy looked shyly at the floor and laughed. "I guess you remember when I hated boys, Auntie Elizabeth - except for Uncle Jonathan, of course - but now..."

"What's his name, dear?" I asked.

Joy blushed and sighed. "Robert," she confessed. "I met him at the church picnic in April, and he's going to Yarmouth Boys' in the autumn, so..."

"Dear God, are you going to Yarmouth Girls'?" Elizabeth asked, trying in vain to disguise her disdain for her own alma mater. 

Joy nodded. "I wanted to be like Alex and go a nice long way away, but Mother wasn't happy with her experience. So for now at least, they're keeping me close to home. I know better than to complain, though."

"I...hope you shall like it, Joy," Elizabeth said. 

"It has changed since you were a student, Elizabeth" said Irene, who was herself a teacher there. "We are far more conscientious about ensuring that the students treat one another with respect. I've told you that before, you know."

"I certainly hope so," Elizabeth said drily. It would not, of course, do to discuss her own nightmarish experiences there in Joy's presence; the cause of her troubles was far too intimate, and in any event she did not wish to frighten Joy. 

"I'll simply think of it as the first step of my great adventure," Joy mused as she handed Catherine the rattle she had just thrown down for the third time. "I'll study so hard it will impress even Mother, and then she'll let me go my own way." 

"Excellent attitude, Joy," Elizabeth said. "Always keep that in mind if you find you're not happy at Yarmouth, will you promise us that?"

"Of course I do promise, Auntie Elizabeth!"

"Good for you. Now, tell us about Robert."

"Well..." Suddenly Joy was uncharacteristically shy. "He's tall. Tall and thin as a rail, really, and he has yellow hair like Uncle Jonathan, and he plays the trombone in the church band. And I think...Oh! Sorry, Auntie Elizabeth!" Having looked up absentmindedly from Catherine to her mother, now Joy whipped her head away, drawing Irene's and my attention to Elizabeth, who had bared her left breast to feed Margaret. 

"Joy, darling, it's perfectly all right!" Elizabeth reassured her. "It's what breasts are for, after all."

"You're sure you don't mind?" Joy asked, still staring out the window. 

"I would have left the room if I did," Elizabeth told her. In the event, Margaret had latched on most hungrily and Elizabeth was once again decent, having draped a corner of a stray afghan over herself. 

"It...is beautiful, Auntie Elizabeth," Joy allowed in an uncertain tone, turning back most gingerly as if she feared she might go blind. "Thank you for trusting me so."

A moment later, Joy was saved from any further awkwardness when the front door opened. Amidst a bustle with trunks and suitcases that we could hear but not see from our vantage point, a poised young woman in a fairly garish hat appeared in the sitting room doorway and greeted us with an agreeable smile. 

"Alex!" Joy exclaimed as her sister blossomed forth. Leaving little Catherine to her rattle, Joy jumped up and greeted her with a fierce hug that Alexandria returned more gently. 

"That's 'Alexandria' now, Joy," Alex - Alexandria - corrected her. "I'm nineteen years old; it is high time I put away the childish nicknames." After extricating herself diplomatically from her sister's embrace, she greeted each of us in turn with polite but formal greetings that recalled the fact that she had never enjoyed the bond with us that Joy had. Her regal blonde locks sported stylish curls where visible under her hat, and she was dressed in a long plaid skirt and a boyish blazer, each of the type that was so popular with university girls just before the war and that later became a symbol of lost innocence that lingered ever after with our generation. 

Alexandria, though, looked anything but innocent as she admired Frank, Catherine and Margaret. A flower of poised youth herself, she adored the babies from a polite distance and feigned ignorance of what Elizabeth was up to. "They are beautiful!" she allowed. "I have wanted so to see how little Catherine and Frank are growing this term, and to meet Margaret!"

"I was unaware you even knew of Margaret, Alexandria," Elizabeth said. 

"I'm afraid I told her all about it in my last letter," Joy confessed. "Sorry, Auntie Elizabeth." To me she added, "I have also sent her a few of your columns, clipped from the paper, just not the ones I wanted to save for myself."

"Yes, I loved your piece on men who 'forget' to invite the token woman in the office to a business meeting," Alexandria told me. "I hope that caused a round of awareness among the men who do that!"

"Thank you," I said. 

"There is nothing to be sorry for, dear," Elizabeth reassured Joy. "It is only that I had not anticipated such interest from your sister." Looking back to Alexandria, she added, "No offense intended, of course."

"And none taken," Alexandria replied. Allowing at last for a bit of a laugh, she added, "Although it does look like Margaret is too hungry to welcome visitors just now."

"Thank heavens," Elizabeth said, deftly switching Margaret to her other breast with only a brief interlude of howls. 

"What do you mean?" Alexandria asked.

"You shall understand when you are nursing one of your own," Irene advised her. "Your breasts get most uncomfortable when full. Feeding is always a blessed relief for you as well as the baby."

"Oh, Irene," I interjected. "We all know Alexandria has no interest in children. Is that not correct?"

"I...don't know," Alexandria said, still adoring Elizabeth and her bond with Margaret. "I am too young to concern myself with such things just now, of course, but you both make it look ever so beautiful!"

"It is beautiful," Irene concurred, "but I should have to agree, you are too young. I cannot imagine living this way myself at nineteen."

"If there is one thing I learned in my first year at university, it is that nineteen is not as mature as I always used to imagine it would be," Alexandria said. By then she had settled herself in a chair and was letting Catherine whack her palms again and again with her rattle. "For one thing, I never imagined I would be so happy to come back here at the end of the term! There's been so very much talk of war and how it can no longer be avoided, and it always leaves me wishing I could take to my bed and imagine I'm a little girl again!"

"Are they really ever so sure it is inevitable?" I asked. "Hasn't anyone in the government got a son they don't want to end up as cannon fodder?"

"It won't be their sons who fight," Elizabeth pointed out. 

"No, it shall be fools like my husband," Irene continued. "Men and their silly childish games." To Alexandria, she added, "I know all too well how you feel about wanting to bury your head under your blankets, my friend. But it shan't make the nightmare go away, I'm afraid."

"I'm...sorry, Irene," Alexandria said. "That was a foolish thing to say in the presence of anyone with a husband, I confess."

"We know you meant no harm," Elizabeth reassured her.

"Life must go on for us ladies, in any event," I added. "I am sure you will find ways to busy yourself this summer regardless of what is to come."

"And you are welcome to join us on our outings if you can tolerate the company of the babies," Elizabeth added. "An evening on the town can work wonders when one is feeling maudlin."

Alexandria bit her lip and looked at all three of us in turn, shy but determined. "About that..."

"Yes?"

"Well, Elizabeth - and all of you, really - do you ever visit the baths anymore?"

Of a sudden, I knew just what Alexandria was about to ask, and my initial inclination was to refuse. I did not care to acknowledge that my cousin, whom I had known as a child scarcely older than Elizabeth and Irene's babies, was an adult woman of the sort who would visit the baths. But then, I was the very epitome of that sort myself!

There was nothing to be done about my qualms, though, as Elizabeth and Irene both allowed that, yes, they did still go to the baths when Jonathan and Gregory were free to watch the children. The ice now being broken, Alexandria blurted out, "Could I join you some evening?"

"We couldn't very well forbid her, I suppose," Elizabeth acknowledged to Jonathan later that evening, after they had put Margaret down for the night. "She's nineteen years old, after all."

"Indeed," Jonathan agreed. "If you had expressed any reservations, that likely would only have encouraged her all the more, knowing little Alex."

"It's 'Alexandria' now, Jonathan; she really has grown up somewhat. But you are correct, and the three of us all knew it. I could tell by the way Agnes and Irene looked at me and one another just after she asked; we could either say yes, or she would find someone else to invite her and 'accidentally' turn up while we were there." Elizabeth set down her water glass and sighed. "I don't suppose there is any harm in it, really. She has grown, and she clearly wants to be the adult she nearly is, and the baths do have a way of teaching one to embrace differences and all that."

Jonathan gave her a knowing look from the foot of their bed as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Yes, and perhaps having her morbid curiosity about you satisfied at last will be for the best. But it is only fair to ask if you are comfortable with that, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth allowed a nervous laugh. "You know, I don't know that I am. Isn't that horrible, after all these years, the belle of the baths, the hairy and horny one, and I can still let the memory of the little brat she used to be make me feel so very shy?" 

"I think it's perfectly understandable," Jonathan reassured her. "For quite some time, she was just like the little monsters you knew back at school, and she even made you think she knew your secret that one time, at an age when that would have been completely inappropriate. Now that secret will unavoidably be revealed to her. But then, Elizabeth, will the other ladies at the baths tolerate any impolite response to that, from her or from anyone else?"

Elizabeth nodded, deep in thought. "Quite right," she said after a few moments. "If she expresses revulsion at my body, she will learn very quickly that such things are frowned upon." At last she smiled. "I must confess, in a way I have morbid curiosity of my own as to just how she will react to learning my secret at last. If she never wishes to see me in the nude again, that is hardly a bad thing, I suppose."

"There are others among us who will always be more than happy to see you that way," Jonathan quipped. Elizabeth looked up at him for the first time in a minute or two and was delighted to see that he had undressed completely and was standing nude and eager at the foot of the bed, his hard cock at attention. 

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise!" Elizabeth said. Although motherhood had cooled her fires a bit - if only due to frequent exhaustion - she still smouldered rather more than Jonathan did and an overture from him remained something of an exception. 

"Only if you are up to it, of course, darling," Jonathan said. But he began stroking himself as he said it, a display that never failed to work Elizabeth into an enthusiastic lather. 

"Very funny!" Elizabeth stood up and all but tore her dress off in one inelegant but eager motion. "Now, bring that over here!" The all-important six-week mark since Margaret's birth having passed nearly two weeks before, they had made love only once in the interim, and Elizabeth had come to worry that the tales of parenthood and its effects on relations were true after all. It was all too likely that Margaret or Catherine would cry out from the next room before their encounter could be completed; but that only strengthened her resolve to enjoy the intimacy while they could. 

Jonathan followed her order and swept her up in an embrace no less passionate than their very first had been. If the lingering effects of two pregnancies had changed Elizabeth's body since then, those changes had only further endeared Jonathan to his beloved. One change in particular had been especially effective to that end: Elizabeth's already-vast pubic hair triangle had grown yet wider and thicker with the hormonal fluctuations that had come with her pregnancies. Jonathan, of course, had always been perfectly delighted with that development, and in turn Elizabeth was more than content with it as well. She was reminded of as much now as Jonathan lost no time in teasing and pulling lightly at the trail of dark hair that now emerged upwards from her panties to her navel, as she had known he would. "Yee, that tickles!" she exclaimed. 

"Well, if you'd rather I not do it..." Jonathan teased, pulling his hand away.

"I didn't say that!" Elizabeth pushed her panties down. Her massive bush now being quite matted from its confinement, she took both of Jonathan's hands and placed them in the hair. "I command you, fluff it out, darling!"


Elizabeth 07: Before the Storm



Jonathan did as he was told, running his fingers reverently through her luxuriant hair, at first teasing her vulva with only the slightest of tickles as his fingertips brushed across it, then rubbing harder in perfect tight circles as only he could do. As usual, he soon had Elizabeth reduced to a joyful loss of control, and she lay back on the bed with her legs spread wide. If the pain of giving birth was still a quite recent memory, the joy and love of the two treasures they had wrought together were more than enough for Elizabeth to once again lose herself in the primal urges that were her constant companion no matter the consequence. The even more precious - and fleeting - gift of both of those treasures being fast asleep for the moment provided for a wonderful sense of liberation as Jonathan's fingers danced about her rapidly moistening forest of dark curls. "Oh, so lovely!" she sighed in a carefree contentment that mothers can so easily forget ever existed. 

Jonathan soon had her as wet as a dewy morning, and his two fingers found no resistance at all as he eased them gently into her vagina. Elizabeth gasped in joy at the caresses as usual, and she wiggled in happy response. Her breasts, heavy with milk, jostled about a bit uncomfortably - as they always seemed to be doing of late - and instinctively she reached up to steady them with both hands. Jonathan, not to be outdone, followed suit with his free hand. "So lovely how they swell!" he murmured. 

"For you, perhaps," Elizabeth reminded him, though she said it in a husky whisper that belied her immense pleasure at Jonathan's touch within her. 

"Oh, I am sorry," Jonathan said, kissing the underside of her right breast. "I understand it's not all in fun for you. It's only that a woman's body is so magical at a time like this, and yours most of all, dear -"

At that point, Elizabeth's breasts interrupted his soliloquy on their loveliness with a squirt that found its target on his forehead. Elizabeth burst into guilty laughter. "Heavens, Jonathan, I'm sorry...but in a way it is your own fault! Your magic fingers made me lose control!"

"I shall take that as a backhanded compliment," Jonathan said drily, wiping the milk from his face. He made to dry his fingers off on the sheets, but in the heat of their passion he found the courage to try something he had half wanted to do - and that Elizabeth had always hoped he would do - numerous times over the past couple of years. He licked his fingers. 

"Oh, Jonathan!" Elizabeth said. "That is perfectly lovely!"

"Sweet," Jonathan mused. "Nothing like I had expected."

Elizabeth was delighted - and a bit relieved. "Well, you know, Jonathan, I'm feeling awfully full up here and the girls are both asleep."

Jonathan was overcome with the same bewildered look that Elizabeth knew so well from every time she had ever suggested anything unorthodox, particularly in bed. "You mean you'd like me to..."

"I would love you to! A bit on each side, please, and don't forget to finish what you've started with your hand, either!" His fingers, still nestled in her vagina, had gone still after the spurt of milk. 

"Yes! Yes, of course, sorry!" Jonathan resumed his rhythmic stroking and, the taboo gone at last, pressed his lips gently to Elizabeth's right nipple. Though a bit chapped from Margaret's sloppy nursing, she still found no small pleasure in his suckling and the release and relief it brought. She arched her back to press more firmly against his eager face, and he drank down her warm sweetness so greedily he was only just aware of her cries of joy as he brought her to orgasm. 

"The other one!" Elizabeth gasped as she caught her breath. Jonathan continued his caresses down below more gently now as he went to town on her left breast. Though his curiosity and his thirst were now satiated, he did not dare stop until Elizabeth at last whispered, "Thank you."

"Are they more comfortable now?"

"Much, darling. But I believe I must still milk you, now, mustn't I?" Before Jonathan could offer any of his usual disclaimers about how they didn't need to do that if she were too tired or sore, she already had his hard cock clutched in both her hands and was guiding him inside. "You've been so very generous tonight, it would hardly do for me to do all the taking!" she teased. 

"I suppose not," Jonathan allowed, offering up no resistance as he welcomed her envelopment. They enjoyed a quiet instant of gazing into one another's deeply contented eyes, and all was still. 

As Jonathan began pushing in and out, he kissed Elizabeth and she tasted her own milk for the first time. "Mmm, I am delicious indeed," she said between happy moans. 

"In every way!" Jonathan agreed. 

Knowing that either of the babies might awaken at any moment, their lovemaking was deliberate and a bit hurried, although it may also have been Elizabeth's long-unsatiated hunger that drove her to her uncharacteristic haste. Whatever the cause, Jonathan's loving thrusts had her back in the throes of orgasm in perhaps half the time their more leisurely relations had so often taken before. To the surprise of neither of them, as Elizabeth's screeches of joy rang out, they were promptly joined by Margaret's ragged harmony from the next room. As they both realized what had happened, passion gave way to laughter for both Elizabeth and Jonathan, and a final burst of intimacy as he came hard and fast. 

"My turn to check on her," Jonathan acknowledged, giving Elizabeth a final outer squeeze and receiving a final inner one before he disengaged himself and stood up. 

"I suppose I couldn't feed her just now anyway, thanks to you, dear," Elizabeth teased as she watched Jonathan pull on his robe. 

Four blocks away, a rather less joyful air prevailed as Irene nursed Frank. Gregory hovered over her chair, half adoring and half pensive as he admired his son. "Festerson enlisted today, you know," he said almost absentmindedly to Irene.

"He never had a bit of sense," Irene grumbled, stroking Frank's head gently. "You know that, Gregory."

"Perhaps, but he's willing to step up and do his part, isn't he? The papers say they're gearing up over there like there's no tomorrow. Anyone who can get out is getting out. By the end of the summer, surely -"

"Stop!" Irene snapped. Frank began to cry at the jolt, and Irene glared up at Gregory. "Now look what you've done! But I suppose in twenty years you'll want to send him off to war anyway - if you come home from this one!"

"Course I'll come home!" Gregory said. "We've been over this again and again, Irene, they'll fold like a house of cards and we'll be home by Christmas. Everybody says so."

"Don't they always!" Irene was still trying in vain to soothe Frank, realizing a moment too late again and again that her tone was hindering that effort. "Good heavens, Gregory, you've read your history!"

"Indeed I have," Gregory replied. "No one ever wants war, but it comes and someone's got to do it. My father did it, his father did it, and they both came home hale and hearty. Besides, have I really got to tell you what people think of young men who don't do their part? I'll not live the rest of my life with a yellow streak on my back. Even if you don't understand that, someday little Frank will. He'll get it!"

"That is my greatest fear!" Irene was near tears. "My God, we have got to stop raising our boys to think that way!"

"Best of luck with that," Gregory said. With a sigh and a conciliatory look, he added, "Now, Irene, I know you mean well. Surely you don't believe I want to go out there and sleep in the mud for months and kill or be killed. But if I don't go, they'll have to send someone else in my place and I'll have that on my conscience for life."

"But you'll still have your life." Irene whispered it, having finally calmed Frank down. She stood up and carried him to his cradle. Once he was down, Irene turned and gave her husband a stern look. "And he'll still have a father."

"It'll only be a few months," Gregory insisted. 

"That's what they always say," Irene hissed. "Besides, a few months is a very long time when you're being shot at constantly."

"I won't be harmed." Gregory was cocksure as always, and as they retired to the bedroom, he flashed the grin that nearly always made Irene melt. "You married a charmed warrior, after all."

Irene was having none of it this time. As she untied her robe sash, she said, "I suppose I can think of one positive thing about you going off to war, Gregory."

"You'll treasure our lovemaking even more when I return?" He reached out to caress Irene's breasts as she shrugged off her robe. 

"No," she said, swatting his hands away with a firmness she had never before used with him, though his aggressive style in bed had often brought her near that point. "It will likely disabuse you of your arrogance about it all." 

Gregory, himself clad in pyjamas, did not try to touch his wife again. Instead, he stood and gazed into her implacable eyes, doubtlessly aroused by the paradox of her absolute resolve despite being naked in his clothed presence, and waited for the punch line to her joke. When she said nothing else, Gregory supplied it himself. "My God, Irene, you're beautiful when you're angry." He gave her the grin again, once again in vain. 

"For the love of God, Gregory." Irene did not begrudge his lascivious admiration of her body, but she stood ready to rebuff any further efforts to touch her. "Can't you see what it would do to me if you went to war? And to Frank?"

"I told you, Frank will understand someday!"

"Not if I have anything to say about it, he won't!"

"Darling, you're..." Gregory waved his hand up and down, gesturing at Irene's body.

"A woman?" Irene looked down and clutched at her breasts with both hands. "Why, thank you, Gregory, I hadn't noticed!"

"I have immense respect for women, but there are things they just cannot understand," Gregory said. "And that is just as it should be. It's the way of the world, my dear. A woman's body gives life and nourishment, and it is not for me or any other man to pretend to understand what that is like. But that also colours your own judgment about the nastier matters of the world, and it is up to us men to address those. That is all!" He stepped forward gingerly and reached out to hold Irene, and to his surprise (and, she later told me, her own), she did not rebuff him. "Now, my dear, let us go to bed. I am here for now, after all."

Irene, still thinking over his silly commentary, allowed a tiny smile but once again slipped out of his embrace. "You go ahead and get in bed," she said. "I've got something to consider."

Gregory did as he was told, and watched as Irene stepped up to their full length mirror to look at her own body. He welcomed the sight as well, and as he settled himself under the covers he asked, "Just what is it you're looking for? I'll know where it is. I've admired your body an awful lot, after all. Probably more than you have."

That last sentence, Irene conceded, was likely true: Gregory, like Benjamin and myself before him, saw only beauty over every inch of her body where she saw flaws. But the more she thought of his nonsense on what women did and did not understand, the angrier she became. She would not, though, allow that to show in her face. Looking Gregory's reflection in the eye, she smiled and said, "I'm afraid you can't help me with this. It's something my body has lost, evidently."

"What has your body lost?" Even Gregory knew this was no time to note that she had not yet lost all the weight she had put on during her pregnancy. 

Irene took a comically hard look at her body in the mirror, her eyes lingering for a lengthy moment each on her pendulous breasts and the cleft of her vulva. "My ability to understand why senseless slaughter is senseless."

Gregory's smile evaporated. "Irene, I did not say -"

"Makes no sense that we could be born without it," Irene interrupted. "After all, female or male, we are all born of woman, which means it is possible to be born with that ability even though your mother doesn't have it."

"For heaven's sake, Irene!"

"And after all, a girl cannot in fact give life or nourishment for the first dozen years or more of her own life, so presumably at that age it is not yet lost."

"All I am saying, my dear, is -" 

"So it must only leave us as we grow into women. Do you suppose it was mixed in with my period blood, Gregory?"

"Irene! That's disgusting!"

"Disgusting?!" Irene turned around and glared at him. "A bit of a mess once a month is disgusting, but months or years of violent death and pestilence over matters most people in the street don't understand and the men who started it all remain safe behind desks, that's just a man's duty to fulfil?! Then I suppose I know which burden I would rather bear!"

"I did not say women were disgusting."

"No, only too stupid to understand why you want to march off to an early grave!"

Gregory tore back the covers and jumped out of bed. Irene braced herself for an altercation of some sort, but none was forthcoming. Rather, Gregory opened the bedroom door. "I shall sleep in the parlour. Good night, my dear." He slammed the door behind him, hard enough to awaken Frank, who set about howling. 

Irene stood near the door long enough to sense that Gregory did at least have the decency to pick up his son and rock him back to sleep; and at long last she switched off the light and got into bed. Doing her best to ignore Frank's wailing, she stretched out her legs and tried to forget all that had been said. It was no use, of course, even once Gregory got Frank back to sleep. As Irene tried unsuccessfully to follow her son's lead, her mind wandered to memories of more innocent times, coloured now by her husband's treatises on gender and nature. 

I would not, I assure you, ever be so conceited as to expect Irene to think of her affair with me at a time like that. However, she later confided in me that she had done exactly that. Though Irene did prefer however slightly the charms of men to women, we certainly had forged a bond that could only have occurred between two women, and only two women of a certain age and mindset at that. She recalled with delight the elegant curve of my breasts and hips, the delightful softness that was not available with men - and which she would not have desired from them in any event, nor would I - the knowing intimate caresses that could only come from one with the same anatomy, and most of all the absolute understanding we had with one another. Eyes to eyes, breasts to breasts, heart to heart, woman to woman. 

Was it then, she wondered now, that the magic of our relations had been due to a woman's innate propensity for nurturing? Certainly there had been a gentleness in her lovemaking with me that was never there with Gregory. Could that have been due to what Gregory had suggested?

Had I been there, I would have argued that it was not. I would have explained, as gently as I could, that while I treasured the memory of our intimacies, I had also experienced that same tenderness with some of the men I had been to bed with. Not many, but a few. In the event, Irene did not need me to explain that to her, for as she gazed at the ceiling and turned the matter over in her mind, she reached a chapter further into her past and thought of Benjamin. 

Amazing, wonderful Benjamin! Palpably masculine Benjamin, with his firm body and broad chest, which was ever so heavily forested in virile hair, a swath leading down his belly to a pubic bush that rivalled Elizabeth's, embracing his lovely thick penis. Irene could not recall with any certainty that Benjamin had in fact been better-endowed than Gregory was; but in her bittersweet memories that night he most definitely was. How fitting, therefore, that Benjamin had been far too secure in his own masculinity to concern himself with any nonsense about a man's duties or a woman's inability to understand them! 

And oh, what Benjamin did understand about women - or at least about Irene! How accepting he had always been about the idiosyncrasies of her body...not just accepting, but embracing! The way he could stroke and kiss her soft belly until she could nearly forget how she normally disliked it; how the thrill of his agile tongue and appreciative fingertips on her fat pussy lips could make her happy about her overendowment for once. In her own harsh self-assessment, Irene had a big vulva; in Benjamin's eyes and hands and tongue, she had a robust vulva, and he had adored it. Most of all, that hard, masculine, well hung body of his was capable of immense tender affection. Irene had never found that big hairy cock intimidating, only immensely comforting inside her. She had, she now reflected, always felt just as safe and treasured and understood and respected in his arms as in mine. (I took no offense at this revelation when she related it to me afterward; after all, our affair had ended for a reason.)

From the moment that the memory of her trysts with me had entered into the imagery playing out for Irene on the dark ceiling, she had been aware of herself growing a bit wet. After Benjamin had taken over Irene had grown rather more than "a bit" wet. That, she knew all too well, often occurred when her lost love came to mind; but she had always suffered through her arousal rather than addressing it before. It had felt - and still did feel - too much like cheating. While she did occasionally indulge in the memory of me in bed with her, Benjamin was quite different: she had been in love with him, and now she was married to another man. Elizabeth had been all too much on the mark that afternoon - just what did Irene want? Now, with her husband in self-imposed exile in the parlour and her own inability to sleep, Irene's resistance was sorely tested indeed. She thought of the afternoon's news and the stark reality that she might well have to see Benjamin again, and did her best to conclude that it was all the more essential that she resist even entertaining such prurient thoughts of him. 

She did her best, but her best was insufficient. Facing a lonely and frustrating night and the real possibility of losing Gregory as she had lost Benjamin, Irene let her defences down at last. Spreading her legs and propping her knees up, she allowed her hands to imitate as best they could Benjamin's loving caresses in and around her frustrated, hungry vagina. Two orgasms later, she was finally off to a restless sleep. 

Two days later was to be Alexandria's debut at the baths. Elizabeth had called for lunch with Irene and myself, but I had a prior commitment. "I know it is none of my business," intoned said prior commitment, whose name was Mr. Franke, from across the table over lunch at Miles, "But it is most imperative that we know you are unattached at this time, Miss Marlston."

"Do you say that to your male writers?" I could not resist asking both Mr. Franke and his wife, who sat alongside him.

"Very soon there may well not be any male writers," he replied. 

"To address your concern, Miss Marlston, the point of hiring only unattached women is that we do not wish for any undue emotional attachment to any one of our young men," explained Mrs. Franke. "Or to whatever theatre of combat said man may find himself in. As a correspondent, objectivity on your part will be highly important."

"As will discretion," added Mr. Franke. "In any event, Miss Marlston, I do apologize for having to bring it up at all. But it is policy at our press service. It may sound old fashioned to you, but then it is tremendous progress that they are even letting us hire a woman."

"Myself excluded," added Mrs. Franke, correctly anticipating my question as to how she had found herself employed at her husband's bureau for twenty years or more. 




Elizabeth 07: Before the Storm



"I assure you, our management loves your work," Mr. Franke continued. "Your gender is not an inconvenience; it's very much an asset. You understand the struggles of a generation that is changing the world very quickly. If war is as imminent as we fear, those changes are likely to come more quickly than ever."

"You would not want the emotional stress of worrying about your husband while you were potentially in harm's way yourself, as well," Mrs. Franke added. "Really, it is only fair to you."

Sure it is, you old fashioned fools, I thought to myself. But I knew better than to voice any such objections. In the weeks since the Frankes had first approached me about joining their international press service in the event of war, I had progressed from wanting nothing to do with the whole operation to pondering the wisdom of not sitting around Westfordshire City in constant fear of bad news about all my male friends to being eager to do my part if it should come to that. With that thought in mind, I took a sip of tea and gave them an answer on my own time. "Very well, then, yes. I'd love to join the war effort if necessary. And yes, I am most definitely unattached. For over a year now, actually." 

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mrs. Franke said. 

"Why are you sorry, if you wouldn't hire me otherwise?"

"Oh, well, no one ought to be alone in this world, is all," Mrs. Franke replied. "But I imagine I might just as soon not be in love with a man your age just now."

I thought of Jonathan and Gregory and Benjamin - and James - and I nodded. "Indeed," I said. "There is a certain benefit to being on my own just now." I found my eyes drawn to the table a few rows away where James and I had eaten lunch just before our outdoor tryst those few long years ago, and I found myself laughing lightly at the absurdity of being glad I was single in that very room. 

"Have I missed a ladies' joke here?" asked Mr. Franke. 

"Not at all," I said. "It is only that it feels rather queer to say I am glad to be on my own in this restaurant. The young man I was involved with until a year ago, his name was James; he and I had a memorable date once in this restaurant. It can still bring back memories."

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Franke said, and almost looked it for once. 

"Oh, it is quite all right," I reassured her. "We had some lovely times, but we grew apart. It happens."

"Will he be joining up?" asked Mr. Franke.

"I don't know. He moved to London after we parted and I haven't kept in touch with him."

"Well, I suppose -"

"Walter!" Mrs. Franke interrupted her husband, "Perhaps she does not wish to talk about him!"

"Right, then, point taken," Mr. Franke said. "Welcome aboard, though I am sure you will join me in hoping we may not require your services in the end." We stood up and, to my pleasant surprise, he shook my hand firmly as he presumably would a man's. I could not help laughing as I realized I might even have been directly responsible for that. As if reading my mind, he said, "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I read your column about how one should not greet a professional woman as one would a lady at a ball. And I confess that is a mistake I would have made before I read your work."

"Well, thank you!" I was delighted; such positive responses to my column from men - other than Jonathan - were all too rare. 

"Shall we send the paperwork to your office?" Mrs. Franke asked. 

"Please, no!" I said. "Thank heavens you asked first! Mr. Thompson has no idea I am considering leaving. The sexist old codger has it coming, but now is not the time to tell him."

"Very well, we'll have them sent to your home," Mr. Franke said. I thanked him, and was off to explain my late lunch to Mr. Thompson. 

That proved unnecessary, as he was already into his afternoon sojourn at the bar when I returned. It was Jonathan's turn to watch the girls, and he had Margaret asleep on the impromptu mattress we had constructed out of spare blankets behind his desk and was preparing a bottle for Catherine. "The one and only thing Elizabeth can do that I cannot," he quipped in lieu of a proper greeting. 

"Yes, aren't we the lucky ones in that regard," I mused. Elizabeth had not yet told me of her and Jonathan's own recent nursing experience, so I was spared the awkwardness of pretending I did not know about it (and was very, very grateful for that when Elizabeth did tell me the story later on!).

"Yes, I suppose you are," Jonathan said. "That and a few other ways. So, I am to understand you and the girls are escorting Alexandria to the baths tonight? That ought to be interesting!"

"Oh, yes, I had nearly forgotten that." I could have smacked myself as soon as the words were out of my mouth. But it was too late.

"Forgotten? Weren't you going to have lunch with Elizabeth and Irene?"

"I..." I had no time to concoct a lie. I thought briefly of telling the truth, but I did not yet want even my dearest friends to know. Finally, a revolutionary idea dawned on me. "I had someone else I needed to talk to, I'm afraid. I'd rather not discuss all that right now; it's a bit sensitive."

"All right, I understand," Jonathan said. "I am sure Elizabeth was disappointed that you could not join her, though; I know this is highly awkward for her."

I could have kissed Jonathan for being so understanding! But I was immediately relieved that I had opted not to do so, for Mr. Thompson burst in through the office door at that moment. "Agnes!" he proclaimed. "You're looking lovely this afternoon!"

"Thank you," I said, "But this is the same dress I was wearing this morning, Mr. Thompson."

"Well, that is most interesting," he said, eyeing me up and down from close enough for me to smell the whiskey on his breath. "Something about you appears to have changed, in any event."

Silently I wondered, could that be true? Had the outcome of the meeting at Miles inspired me to look as nervous and excited about the opportunity as I felt? I had but a moment to wonder before Mr. Thompson's alcohol-addled boisterousness woke Margaret up and she began to wail. Mr. Thompson looked pityingly at her and then at Jonathan. "Good job you're such a good worker, Jonathan, this arrangement is awfully unorthodox, isn't it?"

"Elizabeth and I are very grateful you were willing to accept it," Jonathan said, setting Catherine down on his office chair; then she began to cry as well. I stepped in to pick Catherine up and calm her, something I had done enough times before that she welcomed it.

"Yes, well, it is a changing world, old chap." Mr. Thompson turned to retreat into his office. "I must say, though, had someone told me one of my lawyers would be bringing babies in to the office, I shouldn't have guessed it would be you, Jonathan." 

Jonathan looked expectantly at me, and mouthed the words, "Do it!" I grinned and nodded. It was a bit of struggle while holding Catherine, but I was able to get her into the crook of my left arm. This freed my right arm, and with it I yanked my skirt up and flashed my panties at Mr. Thompson, who as usual was none the wiser. 

"Just how many times have you done that, now?" Elizabeth asked me late that afternoon as we loitered outside the bathhouse waiting for Alexandria. She and Irene were both laughing uproariously as usual at my antics with Mr. Thompson.

"Every time he's asked for it," I said. "I can't count that high!"

"I do hope Jonathan doesn't get into any real trouble for bringing the girls in," Elizabeth said. "We just can't afford a nanny, and besides, I really don't want someone else raising my children."

"I don't think he will," I said. "Mr. Thompson will whinge about it, but he whinges about everything. Besides..." I smiled with a shyness I rarely felt in the presence of Elizabeth or Irene. "I love helping out with them."

"Any hope of you having one of your own one of these days?" Irene asked. 

"With whom, exactly?" I could only hope I had masked my irritation at my friend, who knew perfectly well that there had been no serious prospects on the horizon since James and I had gone our separate ways. 

Elizabeth, perhaps taking note of my annoyance, changed the subject deftly. "Do you suppose there is any chance Alexandria will get cold feet?" she asked. 

"I doubt it," Irene said. "You saw how thrilled she was when we agreed to accompany her."

"Much as I did not wish to," Elizabeth admitted. 

"Elizabeth, I don't understand," I said. "Normally you are so very confident and poised in there, and Alexandria is not the little brat she used to be. Besides, if she says anything out of line, she will be the one to suffer for it, not you!"

"I know, I know," Elizabeth conceded. "Do you know what I think it is, though? Agnes, you are quite right: she's not the little brat she used to be. I suppose I do not care to share our private and adult pastimes with someone I knew as a young little thing. I suppose...I suppose I am reminded of when I moved out of your family's house. That was a stark reminder that a wonderful era in my life was over. This is an even starker reminder that now it was really quite some time ago!"

Wordlessly at first, I took Elizabeth in my arms. "Do you know, my dear, how very many times I have had that same thought?"

"Me too," Irene added. "Lately more than ever, with, you know, Gregory."

"You still haven't been able to talk him out of it, then?" Elizabeth asked as she and I disentangled ourselves from one another.

"Quite the contrary," Irene said. "You see, the other night -"

Irene would later tell us all about the altercation with Gregory and her ensuing guilty reminiscing about Benjamin and about me. But that needed to wait, for at that moment Alexandria stepped down from a streetcar and greeted us with a lusty hello. "Terribly sorry I'm late!" she said before kissing us all on the cheek in turn. "Had a bit of angst over what to wear, I confess."

"Well, you do know you won't be wearing anything in there, don't you, dear?" I couldn't resist asking. 

"Of course I do, Agnes! But it just...only seemed right to make some effort to look good for the occasion." She did indeed look good, but she had chosen a similar outfit to the one she had been wearing on her arrival earlier in the week. I immediately suspected there was another reason for her tardiness - perhaps a late attack of nerves, just as Elizabeth had been hoping for? But none of us commented on that. 

"Well, then," Irene said. "Now that the gang's all here, I don't know about you, but I am well past ready to get in the water!"

"As am I," Elizabeth said, though rather less enthusiastically than the belle of the baths usually sounded about such things. 

"Ooh, I confess I am nervous, but I can hardly wait!" Alexandria said, surprising us all by hooking an arm affectionately through Elizabeth's. "Growing up here, you know, you hear so many stories about the wonderful intimacy in there and the tight friendships it inspires, and I got to watch that happen up close with the three of you. You'll never know how desperately I wanted to join you!"

"You are quite right, Alexandria, we never knew," I said. "After all, your demeanour in those days..."

"Oh, I know, I know!" Alexandria said. "And I am ever so sorry for every last bit of all that! It was jealousy, nothing more. Jealousy of how grown up and lovely and free you all were, and all the taboo topics I was sure you were talking about all the time in here," she added, looking around the bathhouse lobby in wonder as we entered. The lobby was plain and utterly uninteresting, showing no signs of what awaited the members back in the bath chamber; but I could still recall being every bit as fascinated on my very first entrance several years before. That, of course, had been accompanied by Elizabeth and Irene as well. 

"Oh, we were talking about some very private things," Irene acknowledged. "That much is true. You'll have to forgive us, Alexandria; remember, none of us grew up here."

"No, but I heard of the place as early as my first term at Yarmouth Girls'," Elizabeth said. "And like you, Alexandria, I could scarcely wait until I was old enough to join. That there could be a place so accepting seemed too good to be true back then!"

"Oh, my, yes, Elizabeth," Alexandria said in a somewhat quieter tone than she had used up to that point as we presented our cards to the desk attendant. "Yes, you were bullied there, weren't you? Still none of my business, I know, but I do hope someday we shall be close enough that you will be willing to tell me why."

The desk attendant, a regal woman in her forties, was also a frequent visitor to the baths when she was off duty and, of course, knew the answer to Alexandria's mystery. She and Elizabeth shared a quiet laugh at the knowledge of just how soon the poor dear's question would be answered. 

Alexandria squealed like a schoolgirl a few more times as we made our way down the hall to the locker room. It was mostly empty, with just a pair of older women I didn't know who were getting dressed to leave. "This is most fortunate, Alexandria," Elizabeth said. "On a colder day, this room would be bustling and you'd have quite an audience as you undressed."

"I don't suppose that really matters, does it?" Alexandria asked. "I mean, if we're all going to be naked together in there anyway?"

"Excellent attitude, dear," I said, quietly impressed; perhaps she would fit in after all. 

Although her sense of impending embarrassment was absolutely palpable, Alexandria bit her lip and made a point of being the first to remove an article of clothing: her hat. She took her time hanging it carefully in her locker, making sure it was secure on its hook, so that by the time she was free to turn her attentions elsewhere, the three of us all had our shoes off and Elizabeth and I had our satchels squared away in our lockers. None of us begrudged Alexandria for peeling her blazer off quite slowly, or for stealing a glance at us as I unbuttoned my skirt and Irene her trousers. By the time she had the blazer hung safely in her locker and had no further outer clothing to remove, all three of us were down to our brassieres and panties. 

"Would you rather we go on ahead and let you undress on your own, Alexandria?" Elizabeth asked. 

"No! No, thanks. I knew what I was getting into when I came here, and I did - and still do - want the full experience. I guess it is only that the first time is rather intimidating."

"It certainly is," I said, and as I said it I resumed undressing. "I remember being absolutely terrified on my first time here. But everyone was so wonderfully accepting and welcoming!"

"I was terrified as well on my first time," Elizabeth confessed. Also down to her panties by then, she kept them on for the moment to address Alexandria. "I was just like you: dying to come here for years, but when the day finally arrived, I had my heart in my throat all the way down that hall. I still remember the locker room was quite crowded that day as well: it was late winter and everyone wanted to escape to the baths!"

"And you feared you would have an unwelcome audience as you undressed, did you?" At last Alexandria had given in and slipped her skirt off; now she was unbuttoning her blouse. 

"Oh, I did not fear that I would," Elizabeth corrected her. "I knew I would."

"But why, Elizabeth?" Alexandria had, I noted, stubbornly looked Elizabeth only in the eye, as though she were just as shy about seeing as about being seen (which perhaps she was!); and so she had not yet taken notice of our friend's secret that no pair of panties could ever hope to keep. Looking her up and down now, Alexandria did take notice, just before Elizabeth pulled her panties down and solved the mystery on which Alexandria had pondered all those years. 

"Oh my," Alexandria, herself down to her underwear now, murmured. Like dozens of women before her in that room, she found herself utterly unable to resist gazing at Elizabeth's huge, thick bush. At last looking up at Elizabeth's face - and then in turn at Irene and myself, both of us having been nude for some time - she continued. "Now I see why you never wanted to tell me why you were bullied. Totally inappropriate of me to ask, as well. I'm sorry!"

"If I hadn't forgiven you, I wouldn't have agreed to accompany you here, dear," Elizabeth reassured her. 

"Thank you. But what an absolutely bizarre thing to hassle another girl about! Of all the things I imagined might have been the cause of your problems, this is one I never thought of."

"Didn't you ever notice her eyebrows?" Irene teased.

"No one ever does!" Elizabeth said. "You would think, wouldn't you?" She did have thick, heavy eyebrows, almost like a man's. "But even Jonathan never noticed that, before I brought it to his attention. And he had seen me in the nude by then."

"Would he notice them, though?" Alexandria asked, as at long last she removed her brassiere. "It hardly seems the sort of thing a man would pay attention to."

"Alexandria, we have a lot to teach you," I said, firmly but with a smile. 

"Not least about the history of us all," Elizabeth added. "Welcome to the inner circle, I suppose." She was, she would later confide in me, immensely relieved at Alexandria's nonchalant reaction to seeing her in the nude for the first time. At that moment the last of her own apprehensions faded away, and she became determined to return the favour. As Alexandria bit her lip and finally slipped her panties off, Elizabeth pointed out the modesty cloaks that were available at the end of each row of lockers. "You will have to take it off for the bath of course, but no one will blame you if you prefer wearing it on the way there."

"Oh..." Alexandria looked down at her pert breasts and dainty triangle, only a bit more prominent than Irene's, and looked back up to see us all admiring her in polite silence. "There hardly seems to be any point to that now, does there?"

"That is just as we three have always believed," Irene agreed. She took Alexandria's hand and guided her to the bath chamber door, with Elizabeth and me following. 

If Alexandria had any lingering concerns, she hid them well as Irene opened the door and ushered her into the chamber. "Oh, this is beautiful!" Alexandria exclaimed as she stepped inside. "Even better than I imagined!"

"Ah, I see we have another first-timer," came a familiar voice from the far end of the bath. 

I was immensely amused upon hearing that voice, as I realized Alexandria's long-awaited discovery of Elizabeth's secret was to be followed immediately by meeting the only woman we knew who rivalled that secret. "Frances!" I exclaimed. "What a lovely surprise!" 

As I entered, with Elizabeth just behind me, I saw I was correct: Frances, who had moved to Westfordshire City shortly after Elizabeth's wedding and had become as much a mainstay of the baths as we were, was holding court with two young ladies I had never seen before. She looked positively delighted to see us as well. "Good afternoon!" she declared. "I see you've brought a new friend?"

"Alexandria is actually a very old friend, Frances," Elizabeth explained as the four of us descended into the delightfully hot water. "But this is her first visit to the baths."

"You certainly found the perfect companions for that!" Frances said. "I think Elizabeth is probably responsible for more pleasant introductions to our little world than anyone else who's ever been here."

"And to think I wasn't even here to witness your first visit," noted Elizabeth, who had been off on her honeymoon on the day Irene and I had accompanied Frances to the baths for the first time. 

"You were certainly here in spirit, though," Frances said. "I knew I could depend on being welcomed here thanks to your own experience." To Alexandria she added, "You see, Elizabeth and I have a certain something in common," and she looked down at her own big bush.




Elizabeth 07: Before the Storm



"No offense, but I noticed," Alexandria said with a shy grin. "I'm sorry if one isn't supposed to comment on such things in here, but -"

"There is no need to apologize for that, Alexandria!" Elizabeth reassured her. "The first thing you need to learn about our community is that we are very open about such things." 

"Just as I had always fantasized, then," Alexandria said.

"As had I," said one of Frances' friends rather timidly.

"Oh, pardon me!" Frances exclaimed. "I should have introduced you all! Everyone, this is Darla and Jeanette, and I used to care for them in the summer back home. They're both fresh out of university and in town to look for work, and when they heard of my fondness for the baths, they just had to join their dowdy old nanny for some naked fun!"

"I would hardly call you dowdy, Frances!" said one of them; I believe it was Darla. "Especially not now that I've seen you in the altogether!"

"I'd say the same to you, Elizabeth," Alexandria said, "But I think you know I already didn't consider you dowdy!"

"Quite honestly, I didn't," Elizabeth confessed. To Frances she continued, "Isn't it queer to be here with ladies we knew as children? I must admit, I don't know at all what to make of it!"

"Nor I," Frances admitted. "But I choose to be flattered that they trust me so much as to join me here now, and to appreciate how beautiful they have grown to be."

Elizabeth nodded her agreement and turned to see Alexandria grinning and looking down at her own body. Sensing she was uncomfortable, she took Alexandria's hand. "There is no need to be self-conscious here, I assure you!"

"Thank you, Elizabeth," Alexandria said. Allowing a laugh to escape, she confessed, "I appreciate that, because compared to you and Frances I have to admit I feel a bit underdressed!"

We were still laughing at that when the door made its usual loud report, and we looked up to see Lindy making her entrance. "Elizabeth!" she exclaimed, taking no notice of the rest of us. "I hardly expected to see you in here any time soon!"

"Why on earth wouldn't you, Lindy?" asked Elizabeth, who like most of us found Lindy rather tiring, though she could never dislike the woman whose meddling ways had sown the seeds of her marriage to Jonathan. "You know I never stay away from here any longer than I must."

"You just had another baby, didn't you?" Lindy asked as she slid into the water, at long last nodding a hello to the rest of us. "I had simply thought you would be too preoccupied with nursing and such." Taking note of Elizabeth's swollen breasts, she added, "Honestly, dear, it looks as though you're about to pop!"

"Thank you for the reminder, Lindy," Elizabeth said. "But I was in no danger of forgetting that!"

"Nor I," added Irene, who I had already noted was being unusually quiet this evening. "Thank you so much!"

"Oh, I meant no harm," said Lindy, evidently oblivious to the discomfort she had brought to her friends' attention. "If anything, I rather envy you. I'm sure your husbands are thrilled with all that in any event."

"Mine certainly is, if you must know," Elizabeth said. Her face broke into an irrepressible grin, then into an outright laugh.

"Clearly there is a delicious story here!" Frances said. 

Elizabeth gave Alexandria a probing look, and determined that the younger woman was not only not uncomfortable, but just as curious as the rest of us. Very well, then, for better or worse, Alexandria was a member of the community now. "Delicious is just the word, Frances," Elizabeth said. With a self-satisfied look around the pool, she declared, "Last night, Jonathan...well, he drank of me, if you will!"

"Dear God, Elizabeth!" snapped Lindy. "That's disgusting!"

"You asked for it, Lindy!" I pointed out. "And it hardly looks as though Elizabeth found it repulsive in any way."

"I absolutely did not," Elizabeth confirmed. "It was beautiful, really, and he thought so as well. It had been far too long since I had felt that intimate with him, really. I recommend it should you ever become a mother, Lindy."

I could not repress a mildly haughty laugh, as it was well known in the baths that Lindy had no intention of ever settling down. She did not appear offended, though, and simply smiled at Elizabeth. "I shall keep that in mind," she said. 

I chanced a glance at Alexandria, expecting her to be utterly repulsed at what Elizabeth had just revealed. Instead, she looked absolutely riveted. "Elizabeth, forgive my saying anything, but that is utterly marvellous!" she said. 

"That Jonathan and I did such a thing or that I talked of it?" Elizabeth asked. 

"Well, I meant the latter, but both, I suppose! Heavens, what a wonderful community where such things can be shared!"

"Indeed," Frances agreed. "I remember well what a revelation that was for me as well. It's lovely to see new faces in our little community as well. With everything changing so much of late, it's encouraging to know there will always be new friends to carry on our traditions, isn't it?"

Everyone present agreed most heartily. Everyone, that is, except Lindy, who was still clearly irritated at her backfired attempt to provoke Elizabeth; and Irene, who was still very much lost in her own thoughts. I reached under the water and caressed her hand. "Everything okay, dear?" I whispered in her ear.

"No," she admitted. "Could you and Elizabeth slip away to my flat later?"

Our time-honoured tradition of retiring to the pub for drinks after the baths was out of the question while Elizabeth and Irene were nursing; and in any event we would have had no way of disinviting Alexandria politely. And so I concocted a lie about returning to the office and saw Alexandria off on the streetcar home, her face still blushing and set in a dazed grin, and accompanied Irene home. 

Elizabeth arrived as soon afterward as she could, having made a detour to her home to feed Margaret. And Jonathan, she confessed after a probing look from both Irene and myself. "There was all too much to go around, after all," she added with a laugh. "I was bursting!"

"I know the feeling all too well," Irene said. "I could have slapped Lindy for reminding me of it!"

"Now then," Elizabeth said. "Pardon me for presuming the problem is Gregory, Irene. Will he be home soon?"

Irene shook her head and took a deep breath. "He slept on the couch last night," she said. "And this morning he gave me a choice: either let him back in his bed or he would take his leave entirely and stay in a hotel for the time being. I chose the latter."

"Oh dear," Elizabeth said. "I'm so sorry." She took Irene in her arms and Irene promptly dissolved into tears. "Let it out, dear, you'll feel better."

"No I won't," Irene sobbed. "Not unless the war talk blows over and he's safe. And even then..." She pulled back and flopped down on the couch. "What sort of man wants to leave his wife and baby and put himself in harm's way like that?"

"We bring our boys up to be that way," I said, sitting down next to her and reaching out to rub her back; I was mildly surprised that she let me do it. "He no doubt feels he has to do it for his own honour, and for yours in a way. As ridiculous as it may sound to you and me, he probably feels this is his only acceptable course of action."

"I'm afraid she's right, Irene," Elizabeth said. "I don't expect it to be any comfort to you, but it's true. And it's something nearly every woman in town is going to be coping with right along with you, so you shan't be alone."

"I ought to draw some comfort from that," Irene conceded. "And yet I don't."

"I doubt any of them will," I admitted. 

"Any of them?" Irene demanded. "Does that mean your fellow will somehow be exempt?"

"What fellow?! You know James and I are never getting back together!"

Irene replied only with a dirty look. Elizabeth interjected, "I think she is referring to your mysterious lunch date today? You told us of it yourself, and Jonathan mentioned as well when I arrived home to feed Catherine and Margaret that you had refused to tell him where you were. It is your decision to keep it buried if you wish, Agnes, but please know we are very happy for you!"

"Indeed," Irene said with a conciliatory look at me. "Even if my own heart is breaking, I shouldn't let that stand in the way of happiness for my friends."

"Oh, good heavens, no!" I said. "It wasn't that at all! Nothing even close to that. In fact, it's only because I don't have a fellow that I'm even being..." I realized too late that I was giving away far too much of my secret, and stopped there. 

But of course I had said too much for Elizabeth or Irene to leave well enough alone. "Why, this sounds juicier than any love affair," Elizabeth said with a grin. 

"Who are you and what have you done to Elizabeth, if you think anything more interesting than sex?!" I demanded, hoping the light-hearted response would steer the conversation into safer waters. 

Elizabeth and Irene both laughed at my comment, but they were not to be deterred. "Just what is it you are hiding, Agnes?" Irene demanded now. She had stopped crying, and I was grateful for that, until it occurred to me that my response might well trigger a relapse. 

"After all we have shared, what on earth have you to hide from us?" Elizabeth prodded. 

"Nothing," I conceded. "Absolutely nothing. It is only that I cannot imagine a worse time to share the news, given what you're going through, Irene."

"I trust you aren't joining the army, Agnes," Irene said. "The world has not changed nearly that much, has it?"

No, and more's the pity, I thought, though of course I said no such thing. "Of course not," I allowed. "I have...in the event that war does come, I mean, and of course I join you both in hoping it shan't, but..."

"For heaven's sake, Agnes, tell us what you have to tell!" Elizabeth prodded. "You have nothing to fear of us!"

I nodded and took a deep breath. "I have been offered a job as a war correspondent," I said finally. 

Both were silent for an uncomfortable moment. It was Irene who ended the pause. "You too? Am I doomed to have everyone I've been closest to run off and join the madness?!"

"I won't be," Elizabeth reminded her, though she knew as well as Irene and myself that she did not share quite the bond with either of us that we did with each other. 

"There is that," Irene said. "But Agnes, isn't it enough that all your friends back here will be fearing for the lives of their husbands every day, and now we shall be worrying about you as well?"

"I hate that as much as you do," I said. "But what's a single woman to do if war does come? Sit around here and wish I had someone to fear for when I could be doing my part?! You and Elizabeth, you have children to look after. Like it or not, I don't. What I do have is a gift for writing, and the country will need that to keep our spirits up in a war! I've given this a lot of thought, you know!"

"Have you thought you could be slaughtered just like Gregory and Jonathan likely will be?" Irene demanded. 

"Irene!" Elizabeth snapped. "You mustn't think like that! I'm as terrified as you are, but we need one another to be strong. Our children, too - especially them! I know you're upset, but there's no excuse for that!"

"I know," Irene admitted. She stood up and wrung her hands, and then began pacing restlessly around the room. "I know. Of course I know. It is only...life has been going so well, you know? We're all here for one another, madly in love and raising our beautiful babies, and now something beyond all our control threatens to ruin it all, and two of the people closest to me are jumping up to participate?!"

"We're not all madly in love." I managed to say it politely, but it was a struggle.

"There'll be another for you, Agnes," Irene said. "If they're not all killed in the war. Is that why you want in on the boys' game?!"

"Irene, stop that!" Elizabeth ordered.

"No, wait!" Now I stood up as well, my fists clenched in frustration and rage. "What if that is why, Irene? What if my being alone again while you and Irene are blissfully happy with your husbands is exactly why I want in on the adventure? Just what is wrong with that, anyway? Clearly it is not the time of my life to settle down - if it were, I'd have married James or even Edward, come what may - and our country needs my talents as a writer. Is it so wrong that I want to do my part, and maybe see some parts of the world I would otherwise never see?"

"But think of the horrors you will see!" Irene protested. 

"I'm afraid I must agree," Elizabeth said. "War is not like a boy's adventure story, Agnes."

"But it's a story someone will need to tell if it does come to pass," I said. "And you were the first to tell me, Elizabeth, I have a gift for telling stories!"

"Indeed," Elizabeth admitted with a sad smile. 

"Don't you tell me you are believing in any of this too!" Irene snapped. 

"Irene," Elizabeth began gently. "It does none of us any good to bury our heads in the sand if war does come. Someone will have to stand up and fight back, and someone will have to let us know what is happening at the front. And you and I will be just as important in holding things together back home for the children, you know that. Don't you?"

Irene gazed out the window at the empty street, deep in thought, but her eyes remained dry. "Yes," she said at last. 

"Please know we agree with you that how Gregory handled all this was horrible as well," I said. "Perhaps it is only his way of coping with his own fear of what might lie ahead."

"You know men are rarely as good at confronting their feelings as we are," Elizabeth reminded her. 

"How very true," Irene said. "I'm sorry I've been such a child about all this."

"No!" Elizabeth and I exclaimed in unison, and presently we three were all entangled in a cathartic, healing embrace. "Believe me, I understand," Elizabeth continued.

"I think I do, too," I said, privately relieved that I had no man to fear for. 

"I'm sure you do," Irene reassured me. "I know -" I was never to know just what she knew, for at that moment Frank shattered the silence with a scream from the bedroom. "Oh, heavens," Irene said. "That's what I get for getting so wrapped up in my own problems, isn't it?"

"It happens to all mothers, that much I know!" Elizabeth said as Irene extricated herself from our arms and rushed off to collect Frank. To me she added, "I really am very proud of you for doing your part, you know."

"Thank you," I said. "I have to confess I am rather frightened. I suppose that is why I didn't want to tell you and Irene about it yet. That and I suppose I still have a bit of hope my services won't be required at all."

"I'm afraid that chance looks remote," Elizabeth said. "I hate to say it, but..."

"Don't I know it," I agreed with resignation. 

Irene re-emerged a moment later, with Frank at her breast. "You are both welcome to stay a while longer if you like," she said, "But you can see my attentions will be diverted."

"I'm afraid I must do the same, the sooner the better," Elizabeth said, cupping both of her breasts in her hands. "But if you and Frank would rather not be alone tonight, you're welcome to come home with us, you know."

"Or I could stay with you," I blurted out, not considering the connotations until it was too late.

"Oh, Agnes, would you?" Irene asked. To Elizabeth she added, "Thank you, but I don't wish to inconvenience you or Jonathan."

"Of course you don't," Elizabeth said with a conciliatory smile. If she felt any jealousy at the bond Irene shared with me but not with her, there was no sign of it - after all, she had Jonathan's arms to fall into. "Honestly, I'd like to join you both for the night, but the girls will need me." She leaned over and kissed Irene's cheek, careful not to jar Frank as he drank greedily of Irene's breast; and then she took me in a full embrace. "Take good care of her for both of us," she whispered to me.

"I shall, of course," I replied, and kissed her cheek good night. I was tempted to reassure Elizabeth that Irene and I would not be making love that night, that those days were over; but I soon concluded that such a thing should go without saying after all this time. 

Indeed, there was no talk of romance after Elizabeth left. There was little talk at all, for that matter; with two as close as we were, there was no need. Once Irene had put James back down to sleep, she announced with no fanfare that there was soup in the icebox for dinner if I cared for it, and I took it upon myself to heat it up. We ate in agreeable silence, broken by an occasional comment about Irene's students or my casework, and Irene insisted upon pouring me a glass of wine banishing me to the living room to relax while she washed the dishes. "But I feel horribly unfair about drinking when you can't," I said.

"I don't want the wine to go to waste," she insisted. "It could be months before I can touch it again, and it won't hold that long."

"Then you really don't intend to invite Gregory back home?" I asked against my better judgment. 

"No," she said with disarming firmness. "I can forgive him feeling he needs to do this, but the things he said about me not understanding just because I'm a woman...Benjamin wouldn't have done that!"

"Oh, Irene," I said. 

"I don't wish to discuss all that," she interjected. "Please just enjoy the wine and know I'm glad you're here to put it to good use!"

"As you wish." And on that note I retired to the living room. There I sat by the window and sipped my wine as I gazed out at the quiet dark street, where the outside world still looked ever so peaceful, and wondered where on earth I might be by the end of the summer. Did I want everything to go to hell just so I could rush off on some adventure? Of course not; but I did want the adventure. Of that there could be no doubt. I didn't begrudge Elizabeth and Irene their happy marriages - if indeed they were indeed happy marriages, I thought wryly as I recalled just why I was in Irene's living room - but I certainly didn't care to go on observing them both from the front row while I remained on my own. Irene's admonishment - "There'll be another for you, Agnes, if they're not all killed in the war" - echoed in my memory again and again. If only it were that simple! I had grown enough in my years in Westfordshire City to know it was not. A woman could play around a fair bit in our circles with no consequences, but that did not mean she would find true love. 

When Irene had finished washing the dishes, she joined me with a glass of water and we sat chastely by the window like a couple of old maids for what probably was not very long; but it felt like an eternity to me. A bit of stalling, stilted conversation followed, interrupted only by another round of howls from Frank. While she was attending to him, I took advantage of her absence and visited the water closet. When I emerged, Irene announced that she was off to bed, and would I also be retiring?

"Certainly," I said, though I didn't feel terribly sleepy. "Shall I sleep on the sofa?"

"Don't be silly, Agnes, this is you and me," Irene admonished. "My bed shall be too cold by half without you."

"Irene -" 

"We don't have to do anything but sleep," she prodded. "Tonight I need a friend and a sister, not a lover."

I gave her a knowing look, but did not argue the point any further. Irene took my hand and led me into the bedroom, where Frank was gurgling happily in his bassinet. After offering him a goodnight kiss, I retreated to Gregory's side of the bed unbuttoned my dress. I was down to my panties, and Irene in a similar state of undress, before it occurred to me that I had no nightgown to change into. Reminding myself that it was a hot summer night and it was only Irene, I slid my panties off and climbed into bed in the nude. 




Elizabeth 07: Before the Storm



"My, but that is enticing," Irene teased. "You could borrow a nightgown of mine, you know."

"What fun would that be?" I quipped, grinning up at her as she stood at her dresser. She was nude as well for the moment, and I admired her body shamelessly. "I hope you don't mind my saying so, Irene, but you do look beautiful just now."

"Oh, please! I feel like a cow!" She had yet to lose all the weight from her pregnancy, and her breasts were of course swollen for nursing. She looked down at her new curves and contours, but to my pleasant surprise she made no effort to cover up. 

"You look...matronly," I said. "Comforting and inviting. Really, I mean that, Irene."

"Thank you." Then, to my delight, she turned off the light and joined me in bed. "I wish I could say I felt inviting just now, but it is nice of you to say I look it."

"You certainly feel it to me," I whispered, snuggling up close to her. Rejoicing in the sensation of my dear friend's tender skin against mine, I caressed her gently until I fell asleep in her arms.

Given the thrill of holding Irene again, I suppose I was expecting sexy dreams. In this I was not disappointed, for deep in the night I enjoyed a sense of the gentlest of caresses on my thighs and vulva. I had no idea to whom the fingers and lips that teased me might belong, for I could see nothing of his or her face in my dream; but identities troubled me little as I found myself pinned delightfully to a cloud or a featherbed or perhaps a thatch of heather and received the master's touch. Seeming to float in out of nowhere, the sensation grew from a mild tease to a tickle and then to a full-on massage of the loveliest pleasure. An idyllic garden suggested its presence around me; I could see only impressionistic outlines of the flowers and trees, but I found myself resting on the most divinely luxurious bed of something or other I had ever encountered in the wild and was wonderfully aware of the glorious natural beauty that enveloped me. My mysterious lover was lavishing my lower body with the expert touch of fingers and lips alike all about my thighs and vulva, and I found myself writhing about in joy. The joy was, however, blended with a certain exquisite frustration at the intense sensation, for I found my hands unable to move to guide my partner. The strokes and kisses were sometimes too good, as they often will be from an inexperienced lover, and I could but wiggle about on the heather and endure the recurrent overkill as best I could tolerate it.

A particularly rough brush of the tongue over my clitoris shook me to my core, and the out-of-focus garden faded to Irene's darkened bedroom as I sprung awake and sat up. My hands now functional at last, they found their way to Irene's head between my legs. Heavens, not again!

"Irene!" I whispered in a husky panic. "I thought we agreed none of this!"

She bobbed up to make eye contact with me, but left her two fingers nestled in my vagina; I could never deny that they felt most welcome there. "I suppose I have no willpower," she confessed. "Forgive me, dear, and consider it a credit to how beautiful you are inside and out."

"But you're a married woman! And you remember what became of you and Benjamin because of what we did!"

"I'm married to a man who doesn't respect me! As for Benjamin, I cannot unbreak his heart, so it makes no sense to deny ourselves this pleasure now. And Agnes, with you possibly going into harm's way, shouldn't we have a lovely memory to cling to?"

"Well, I..." My resolve was slipping. I knew it, and Irene knew it, which is surely why she chose that moment to begin wiggling her fingers gently inside me. Of course my objection melted into joyous inarticulate approval, and she once again buried her face in my pussy. The very real concern about my future should the war come to pass echoed in my mind, and easily overcame my moral objections to the glorious pleasure she was giving me for the first time in far too long. 

Little wonder, then, that I came in scarcely another minute, or that my moans and screeches awoke little Frank. "I shall be right back!" Irene declared matter of factly, getting up to attend to him. The warm light from the corner lamp cast a delicious glow over Irene's body as she picked her son up, and all at once I lost all my desire to go overseas - for the moment, at least. 

I knew not how long she was up and occupied, for I was once again asleep when at last she curled up beside me again. The loving press of her body against mine woke me up again, and I murmured an apology for not waiting up. "Quiet," she ordered. "Just hold me!" And so I did, until Frank woke us up again at dawn. 

"Didn't you wear that dress yesterday?" Elizabeth asked me over lunch. Then, just as quickly, she caught herself. "Oh, heavens, I'm sorry!"

"Perhaps it's your husband to whom you ought to apologize," I quipped, nodding to Jonathan. "He managed not to notice all morning, after all."

"Oh, I noticed," he confessed. "I simply assumed you would prefer not to discuss the matter with little old me."

I laughed off my slight embarrassment. "It is not as though any of us have a great deal of secrecy from one another anymore," I reminded them both. "I suppose, Jonathan, that Elizabeth told you what we learned after the baths last night."

"Indeed," Jonathan said. "Which reminds me, congratulations are apparently in order!"

"Oh, I don't know about that," I said. "I simply feel the same calling you do, to do my share."

"I don't know that I'd call it a calling," Jonathan said. "More a responsibility, I suppose. If I had my way I'd stay right here. I admire you, Agnes, but I don't know that I understand why you're willing to go over there when no one would fault you if you didn't."

"No one who matters would fault you either, Jonathan," Elizabeth said with an uncharacteristic edge on her voice. "We've discussed that before, you know."

"Of course we have," Jonathan admitted. To me he added, "I assure you I'm not all set to run off to the recruiting office like Gregory is. I'm only being honest with myself about what might happen."

"Well, that's how I feel too," I explained. "I do hope you both understand."

"Yes and no," Jonathan said. "Honestly, Agnes, being a woman in this lifetime still has so many disadvantages, even after all the progress we've made. Why do you want to deny yourself one of the few advantages you have over us?"

"Because I don't consider it an advantage!" I said, a bit more sharply than I intended to.

"I do," Elizabeth said. I laughed in spite of myself but did not reply to her. 

"Well," Jonathan said, "I'll tell you what I hope, Agnes. I hope our volunteer force will suffice. Then I will look forward to reading every last one of your war stories from the safety of our living room, with Elizabeth by my side, sharing in the love of our children."

"And in the milk of human kindness?" I said with a brash grin that I could only have shared with my very closest of friends.

Elizabeth burst into cathartic laughter, and Jonathan turned as red as a ripe strawberry; but he kept his composure. "I highly recommend that, as a matter of fact," he said with a grin. "You ought to try it with Irene."

"I deserved that, didn't I?" I confessed, joining in on the laugh. By now all three of us were making such a racket as to attract the attention of nearly everyone else in the café. The tension of a few minutes before was now utterly forgotten, and I knew we were sharing in another lovely memory that I would treasure if I did need to sail off into the eye of the storm. "Jonathan, Elizabeth," I said, reaching over to take each of them by the hand. "Let us all remember today if...if we are separated."

"I promise," Elizabeth said. "Now let us not have any further talk of that unless it is necessary." 

We did in fact keep talk of the future to a minimum in the ensuing days and weeks, even though - or perhaps because - the news from overseas only went from bad to worse. And so it was that a beautiful midsummer's day found tension heavy in the air when Irene went to the train station on her own. Elizabeth and I had offered to accompany her, but we had both thought privately that it was best to allow her some privacy. Irene had agreed and had declined our offer. Perhaps it was for the same reason that she had resisted my every offer to follow up on our encounter; I had of course accepted that decision, and found myself following her lead when it came to fellows offering to take me home. Keeping our distance seemed the only sensible thing to do, with one exception in Irene's case.

Irene, having set aside her trademark tailored pants for her most flowery summer frock, was all but ill with reluctant anticipation when that exception at last stepped down from the train. A few years older but instantly recognizable as a once-true love always is, he had no more trouble than she did in finding one another through the crowd of disembarking passengers. 

"Benjamin, darling!" 

"You haven't changed at all," he exclaimed, enfolding her in a fond embrace that she sensed was years in the waiting.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Benjamin, of course I have and so have you! But it is kind of you to pretend nothing has changed."

"Is it really?" he wondered aloud, searching her still-familiar face as they shared their tender moment, oblivious to the other travellers milling around them.

"Yes, of course it is," Irene said. "I can't tell you how often I've wished things could be just as they were in our time together lately."

"Have you really? Why is that, then, when you've been so successful in moving on with your life? I bear you no ill will for that, Irene - the decision to move on was mine as much as yours - but I do wonder all the same."

If Benjamin was expecting Irene to melt into tears in his arms, he was disappointed; but I think I knew him well enough to know he expected no such thing. In the event, Irene kept her composure as she explained, "Benjamin, there have been some developments I haven't told you in my letters."

"If you would prefer not to discuss them..." he began.

"It is not that!" she reassured him. "Well, in part I suppose it is fear that no man would understand fully, particularly not one such as yourself who is choosing to join up and fight; but mostly it is that there was no time to write with you already on your way. Thinking of you now as an old friend rather than a romantic interest - and I am sorry, Benjamin, but that is what we are now, like it or not - I felt it more appropriate to discuss the matter in person in any event." Gracefully extricating herself from his still-fond embrace, she took him by the hand and led him down the platform. "Shall we have lunch at any of your old favourite places and I shall explain everything?"

"Lovely," Benjamin agreed. "But where's your little one? I've been dying to meet him! And Gregory? I assure you, Irene, I'm prepared to be a gentleman in his presence. Speaking of which," he added, letting go of her hand, "It hardly seems appropriate to be seen hand in hand with you now."

"I suppose you are correct about that," Irene conceded, keeping to herself the disappointment of losing that chaste but precious bond; it had still felt so right after all this time! "Agnes is taking care of little Frank; you should see them together! She's a natural mother, I think, more of one than I am, honestly."

"Why not Gregory?" asked Benjamin.

"I can hardly wait to see how Frank gets on with Elizabeth's girls when they're all a bit older," Irene continued, ignoring the query. "They're all so lovely just now, although the crying seems to be contagious when we're together. One starts, and all the others..." She laughed. "Someday I suppose we shall miss it, but it is all a bit tedious just now!"

"I do hope Gregory at least tries to be a decent father," Benjamin said. "But if you do not wish to talk about that with me..."

"It is not that!" Irene said. "I shall tell you all about that once we are settled for luncheon." They were approaching the entrance to the station by then, and a streetcar was due any moment now to ferry them downtown. "Now where would you like to eat? All your old haunts are still there; it hasn't been all that long, has it?" When Benjamin did not answer immediately, she turned and looked into his intimately familiar brown eyes. "It hasn't, really...right?"

Fifteen uncomfortably quiet minutes later, they were settled at a sidewalk café just off the high street. Normally Irene would have vetoed a choice so close to the baths, for they would be sure to be spotted; but today was much too pleasant a day for anyone to want to spend it indoors. And so she acquiesced in his choice and settled herself safely across the table from him. 

"Now then," Benjamin said, "If you're ready to talk about whatever it is you've been avoiding?"

"Ready as I'm ever likely to be," Irene conceded. "Benjamin, I...I'm afraid Gregory and I are separated, at least for the moment."

Benjamin, to his eternal credit, looked shocked and a bit dismayed. "I'm terribly sorry, Irene."

"Are you really? I could hardly blame you if you were enjoying this moment immensely, Benjamin. Truly I couldn't."

"I'm not, not in the least. Losing what we had is something I shall always regret, Irene, but I still wish you all the best. I am - I was - glad to know you had made a comfortable life for yourself in the aftermath of our failure -"

"My failure, Benjamin. You were blameless; I was the one who allowed Agnes to talk me into bed, after all."

"Since you admit it, I can agree," Benjamin said with a sad smile. "In any event, I treasure the memory of us and I have never wished you anything save the best. I truly am sorry to hear you haven't got that now, and I do hope you and Gregory can reunite."

"Good Lord, Benjamin, you are not making this easy for me!" Irene said, burying her face in her hands in frustration. "I had managed to forget just how noble you can be when you care to!" 

"Making what easy for you? And what on earth should I have said in response to this news? That I should try to come between you and your husband after all these years?!"

Irene took a deep breath and looked her lost love in the eye. "Well, actually, Benjamin...yes."

"You don't mean that, Irene! We parted for a reason, after all. Several reasons, actually. Surely you remember that!"

"Of course I do," Irene allowed. "But I also remember what did work for us as well as what did not. Gregory and I...well, he was a safe choice for me to make for settling down. Or so I believed. But what is safe is not always right. Surely you would agree with that!"

"Indeed I would," Benjamin admitted. "But Irene, we're likely to be at war by the end of the summer, and like it or not, I am as likely as not to be in the thick of it all. So is Gregory, if it comes to that. Surely you don't wish to be carrying on behind his back while he's fighting for us, to say nothing of your risk of losing both your loves?"

"Stop!" Irene snapped, wadding up her serviette in frustration. "Benjamin. Why do you suppose Gregory and I are separated in the first place?"

"Because he's planning to join up as well?" Benjamin guessed. 

Irene replied with a curt, reluctant nod. "Well, it is not that so much as he was - is, I suppose - rather too enthusiastic about it all, like a boy half his age might be. That he could be leaving Frank and me alone for life does not appear to matter to him, at least not anywhere close to as much as it ought to! That, if you don't mind my saying so, is why I was so very hopeful about our little reunion. Heaven knows why when you are also planning to sign on, but for some reason I felt it would be different with you."

"It is different with me!" Benjamin replied just as angrily. "I have no wife to leave behind, after all."

Irene could not look him in the eye. "I suppose I deserve that," she murmured.

"Quite frankly, I believe you do," Benjamin said. "I had no intention of telling you this, Irene, but I quite honestly have never been the same. I've been fairly successful at my new job and my new life over there; but I have never been as truly happy as I was in our day. Not a single day, Irene. I chose to enlist because I see now that, from the day we parted, what I needed most of all was a completely different lease on life. This could be my last chance at that, and I do not intend to toss it aside in favour of attempting to relive the past. I still care about you a great deal, and I always will, but I do hope you understand, Irene!"

After a moment's stony silence, Irene nodded slowly and finally met his harsh gaze. "I do, Benjamin; I believe I do understand. And I'm sorry. But would you..."

"Would I what?" Benjamin sounded and looked a great deal more conciliatory in receipt of her apology. 

"Would you consider a one-time reunion? An intimate one? Think of it as a good-luck gift or even a thank-you in advance for fighting for us." She bit her lip and then slipped into a girlish laugh as she awaited his reply. 

Benjamin looked delighted, but he demurred. "I shouldn't. We both know that. You're married now."

"Married to a bloody fool who is no longer welcome in my bed," Irene reminded him. 

"I shouldn't. But...heavens, Irene, the memory of your love, I treasure it more than you can imagine!"

"Just this once, it needn't be only a memory, Benjamin!" 

"Do you know," Benjamin said, dodging her invitation, "There are still days when I imagine you and Agnes together. At long last I am no longer jealous, but I remain bloody curious."

"Curious of what, Benjamin? You were present for our retreat at the seaside!"

"Yes, and how can I ever forget you fingering Elizabeth and myself at the same time!" He laughed at the fond memory. "I still get tickled at the memory of how much you obviously enjoyed that! But you and Agnes, from what you confessed to me, it all sounds so much more...intimate, rather than simply sexual."

"It can - could - be, sometimes," Irene said. Then, sensing that she had not sold Benjamin on her proposal and was not likely to do so, she had an idea. "You know, I could bring things full-circle and invite her to join us." 

Benjamin looked set to repeat his refusal initially. But as he opened his mouth to say no, Irene could see a change of heart in his eyes, followed by his lips curling into a grin of saucy anticipation. 

He did retain enough resolve to send Irene home on her own that afternoon, with a promise that he would consider the offer while he settled himself at the boarding house and prepared to visit the recruiting office the next day. "I ought to be on my own tonight, and you ought to think about whether or not you truly want this," he advised her with a kiss on the cheek that Irene sensed to be a bit reluctant. "Regardless of that, though, can we assemble the gang for an outing to celebrate tomorrow?"

"There is nothing to celebrate if you are going to war, Benjamin," Irene insisted. "But I am sure the others will all want to see you."

In that she was correct, and the following evening found us all assembling at the café for dinner after work. "Benjamin and I had our first dance here," Irene mused to Elizabeth as they waited outside the already-crowded dining room for Jonathan and myself; we were on our way from the office at that moment. 

"I remember it well," Elizabeth concurred. "What a wonderful evening that was."

"Which is exactly why I wish he had chosen somewhere else for the reunion," Irene said. "I could do without being reminded so vividly of what a beautiful thing I threw away!"

Elizabeth wanted to shake some sense into her friend, to remind her not to live in the past or to fool herself into thinking the good old days were always wonderful when it simply wasn't true. But she found that she could not blame Irene for feeling so sentimental given what she had been through of late and what they were all likely to go through shortly. And so she simply put a gentle arm around Irene's back and replied, "I would have chosen elsewhere as well."




Elizabeth 07: Before the Storm



Jonathan and I arrived to find them still in their friendly cuddle by the door, and eagerly we all entered the café with all the hunger, literal and figurative, of a typical Friday evening. "Benjamin said he would come by early and ensure that we had a table waiting for us," Irene explained. 

He had done just that, and as we scanned the room for our old friend, we all seemed to spot his welcoming, vaguely familiar visage at once. "Benjamin!" Elizabeth exclaimed, throwing herself into his arms in the uniquely uninhibited way that had been so instrumental in bringing us all together in the first place. Pressing him tightly to her bosom, she continued, "I'd be lying to say I'm happy about the cause for your returning, but it is perfectly delightful to see you, my friend!"

"For me as well," Benjamin said when at last she had released him. Looking over her shoulder at Irene, he added, "I can just imagine what you are thinking at this moment!"

Irene let a guilty laugh escape. "My two hairiest pleasures," she confessed. "My fingers are itching for you both at the moment!"

With the ice broken, we all burst into salacious laughter at the memory of Irene's often expressed (and once fulfilled) longing to run her fingers through Benjamin's thick pubic hair with one hand and Elizabeth's equally ample bush with the other. For the moment at least, we were once again the thoroughly uninhibited band of truly intimate friends and lovers that we had been in that recent yet elusive past. I found my own mind wandering to similarly filthy pleasures, an experience I suspected was universal in our heady little bubble. 

"Just as well that you didn't bring them here, of course, but where are the little ones?" Benjamin asked as we settled ourselves at our favourite corner table.

"Alexandria and Joy are caring for them at the mansion," I explained. "And they couldn't be happier about it - this time at least."

"I'm almost afraid of what they'll have to say about it when the babies are done with them," Elizabeth quipped. "But yes, they were positively delighted when we asked them."

"Little Joy!" Benjamin remarked. "And Alexandria...the last time I saw her, I don't know that I'd have trusted her with an adult let alone a baby. What a reminder of all the time gone by!"

"It feels that way from our end, too," Jonathan said. "Some days it feels as though nothing has changed, some days everything. But Alexandria had most certainly changed a great deal; that much is constant."

"Thank heavens!" Elizabeth agreed. "She has fairly made a career of apologizing for her past, as well."

"Speaking of which," Benjamin said. "I feel I owe a few apologies of my own, to Jonathan for one. I've never forgotten our final conversation at the baths, and I know I was rather haughty."

"It's all forgiven," Jonathan said.

"If not outright appreciated," added Elizabeth, who recalled that the uncomfortable exchange had led to an enjoyable afternoon in bed for herself and her true love. Benjamin looked at her rather quizzically, but from the look on his face I believe he was able to determine what she was implying.

"Benjamin, you are owed at least as many apologies as you owe," Irene added. "Most of all from myself. But could we check all that at the door and focus instead on today and tomorrow?"

"Hear hear," added Jonathan. "All we know for sure about the future is that -"

"Please, let us not talk of that either!" Elizabeth interrupted. "What must be must be, but tonight is for pleasant things only!"

"Indeed," Irene agreed. "Benjamin, Elizabeth, feel free to exchange your latest hair-care tips!" She was laughing hard before she could even get the last few words out, and we all joined in promptly. Elizabeth laughed hardest of all, grateful as always for the acceptance her intimate distinction had achieved in this lovely phase of her life. 

After that undeniably racy beginning, the conversation was surprisingly devoid of salacious detail. Perhaps that was yet another sign of our growing older, but I am inclined to believe the likeliest reason was that talking about sex was far less appealing for Irene and Benjamin when they were officially no longer free to have it together. And so, as we enjoyed one another's company thoroughly but stayed for the most part with much drier topics, I found myself thinking yet again that it was high time for me to leave Westfordshire City for a while in any event. Naturally I knew better than to say so; but many was the time I thought as much while we talked of babies and life in Benjamin's faraway new home and my column and Irene's students and other things I have long forgotten. A few other old friends spotted Benjamin and stopped by to shake his hand and say hello, but all were sharp enough to see tonight was primarily for the five of us alone. Dry or not, and notwithstanding the romantic past, it stretched into an agreeably long evening of the most comfortable sort of friendship. 

"Heavens, this is what I have missed the most," I said when we finally stood to take our leave.

"As have I," Benjamin said. "If only it all could have always been so simple before!"

"Life always gets in the way, doesn't it?" Elizabeth reminded us. "Now then, Benjamin, I know you will be joining us all in accompanying Agnes home so you can meet the babies!"

"I'd have insisted upon it!" Benjamin confirmed. 

The sun was only just down outside, and the air was warm but restless. A sure sign of a summer storm, we all knew; the only question was whether we would reach the mansion before the rain began. All at once I hoped it would begin pouring as soon as we were safely inside, for the last thing I wanted just then was for our time together to end. 

As the cab wended its way down the high street towards home, I made some semblance of an effort at following the fond reminiscing in which the others continued to indulge; but my attention was focused on outside and the quiet, dark shops and the deserted sidewalks. All so peaceful and safe; that looked just perverse from where I sat just then! Elizabeth seemed to know what I was feeling as usual, for she found my hand in the dark and gave it a discrete squeeze. "We're all nervous about what is to come, you know," she whispered."

"I only wish that were comforting somehow," I replied; but I did return her affectionate grip. 

Alexandria and Joy were looking harried but happy when we arrived back at the mansion. Both were delighted to see Benjamin as well; Alexandria quite thoughtfully asked his permission before embracing him, which of course was freely given. "I certainly wasn't expecting that!" he confessed as he returned the hug.

"She has surprised us all in the most wonderful of ways lately," said Elizabeth, collecting up Margaret from the cradle where she had just awoken with a howl. "If you'll excuse me, I believe someone is hungry!"

"Likewise," said Irene, taking Frank from Joy's arms. "Thank you, Joy," she said. "I hope they weren't terribly hard on you tonight?"

"Oh, not at all!" Joy said. "There is no place I should rather be!"

"No place but at the church mixer with Robert!" Alexandria teased. 

"Oh, leave me alone!" Joy grumbled. To Irene she confessed, "I did want to go, but Mother says I'm too young for all that. She can hardly stop me from seeing him when we're at Yarmouth, though!"

"I shouldn't say that too loudly if I were you," I pointed out.

"Mother won't hear; she is locked away in her room," Alexandria reassured me. "All evening, once she was persuaded Joy wasn't going to run off. She made it clear she did not care for the babies, being all done with raising her own and all."

"I suppose that is her prerogative," I said, not caring to tell my cousins what I - and all of us - really thought of their mother. I sensed from the looks on Jonathan and Benjamin's faces that I was not alone in that feeling; and I was grateful that Elizabeth, whom Aunt had always liked least of all, had taken her leave along with Irene to feed the babies. 

"Benjamin," Joy declared, "I hear you've been overseas! I was ever so happy when Agnes told me you would be returning, as I want to hear all about it. I plan to go overseas myself as soon as I'm done with school, you know!"

"Well, that's delightful," said Benjamin, sitting beside her on the couch. "It certainly had been a great experience for me. Where do you think you want to go?"

The two of them were promptly lost in comparing notes on their favourite faraway places, at which point I chanced to note that my wishes had been answered: it was raining hard. A flash of lightning illuminated the garden outside the windows just long enough to show just how hard, and I was reassured that no sane person would dare leave the house anytime soon. I could only hope it would keep up that way long enough for us all to make the decision to spend the night. 

As if on cue, Jonathan declared, "I hope that doesn't keep up. We'll be stuck here all night if it is."

"Oh, do stay!" Alexandria piped up. "We'd be delighted to have you for old time's sake anyway, you know!"

"I couldn't agree more," I added. "And you too, Benjamin." 

Benjamin began to reply, but he was interrupted by a cathartic whoop from the front door. "Nearly made it!" came a voice that surely echoed throughout the ground floor. "Nearly." The door to the parlour burst open and in stumbled Joy and Alexandria's brother, Thomas, in a once-resplendent suit that was now soaked; his tie undone but still hanging limply around his neck. He looked positively delighted with himself despite (or was it because of?) his condition. He nodded hello to us all. "Benjamin! My God, man, it's fine to see you!" His wet shoes squealed across the rug as he held out his hand for Benjamin, who stood up to shake it. "I hear you're joining up?"

"No need to discuss that now, Thomas," I said.

"I don't see why bloody not!" Thomas insisted. "It's what everyone is talking about. Even at the mixer tonight, all the girls were wondering which of us boys were off to school and which would join the fun."

"Fun, Thomas?!" Now I was rather angry at my cousin.

Benjamin, though, was having none of it. "Never mind, Agnes, it's perfectly fine," he said. "Yes, Thomas, I signed up today. But I will warn you, those of us who are going do not share your enthusiasm on the matter. It's simply what we feel we've got to do, rather than some sort of game, you know."

"Oh, I know war is hell and all that," Thomas said, flopping down in a chair. "But you can't tell me it isn't also a fantastic adventure. Besides, Fanny Barton asked me first thing tonight if I was joining and I said as soon as I'm old enough, yes, and she danced with me three times! Had my eye on her since heaven knows when, and there she was in my arms again and again tonight. You should have seen the way she looked up at me while we were dancing, too! I don't think that would've happened if I'd whined about peace!"

"I would certainly be looking at you with more affection if you had," came Elizabeth's voice. 

Thomas snapped to attention at the sound of his beloved former nanny, and jumped up with a pathetic effort at straightening his sopping jacket. "Elizabeth!" he exclaimed, either ignoring the brusque tone of her comment or failing to register it at all. "So lovely to see you!"

"And you too, Thomas, but I've got to be frank: that was a horrid thing to say when so many of our young men are likely to find themselves in harm's way before long. If this Fanny of yours cares for you only because you're beating the drums of war, perhaps you ought to find another girl to tickle your fancy. I assure you there are plenty of us who would admire you a great deal more if you treated war with the gravity it deserves, my dear."

"She's got that right," I added.

"But it's for you that they're going off to fight, Elizabeth - and I as well if it isn't already over when I turn eighteen," declared Thomas, who was a bit under a year short of that threshold. "And you, and you!" he added to Irene and myself. It's a gentleman's duty, and I shan't shirk it!"

"We are not ungrateful, Thomas, but -"

"I am," Irene interrupted bluntly. "Thomas, do not insist you've got to join in on the horrors of war in our name, or at least not in mine. I never asked for any such thing." 

"Nor did I," said Elizabeth. "Thomas, I can only hope should you have to go, that you will understand our point of view when you return. If you return."

"Auntie Elizabeth, what a horrible thing to say!" exclaimed Joy, throwing her arms around her brother. "Of course he's going to come home safe!" 

"No one can promise that, I'm afraid," I said as gently as I could. "Thomas, it really is best that you understand what you are cheering for so enthusiastically here."

Joy was crying now. Thomas returned her hug, and then said, "Perhaps they're correct, Joy. I am being flippant. But I must do my part, you know."

"Of course I know!" Joy said. "And we all ought to be more supportive of him for that!"

"Perhaps it's best that we don't discuss it any further for now," Jonathan suggested. 

Alexandria, to her eternal credit, voiced her agreement. "Indeed. Joy, Thomas, we ought to get upstairs before we awaken Mother. I assure you, none of us wants that tonight!"

"We never do, do we?" Thomas said. To us he said, "Good night, all. Shall we see you in the morning? Horrible night to be out, after all."

"We were just discussing that," I said. "We'll see."

Elizabeth sat down, still clutching Margaret to her bosom, and as soon as the door was shut behind the youngsters she allowed the tears to flow. "Thomas, what a beautiful little fool he's grown up to be!" she groused. "The way he used to look up to me, how could I fail to teach him one needn't be a warrior just because he's a man?"

"He isn't quite a man yet," Jonathan pointed out, rubbing his wife's back gently in a vain attempt to soothe her. "All too typical of boys his age to think it all sounds like a wonderful adventure."

"It should destroy me if he learns otherwise the hard way," Elizabeth said. 

That thought had my eyes welling up with tears as well. I fought them off with a brisk walk to the liquor cabinet, where I poured five cognacs. "We all need this, I think, and then do let's all stay the night. I guarantee Aunt and Uncle would have it no other way with that rain out there." Elizabeth and Irene both attempted to decline, but I was not to be deferred. "You've just fed Margaret and Frank, and you have needs, too!" I prodded. 

Elizabeth, her eyes still damp, offered up only token resistance before accepting the drink. Irene lost little time in doing the same. Naturally, Jonathan and Benjamin had no reservations, nor did I. In solidarity with Irene and Elizabeth, I had been drinking little of late, and the liquor was harsh going down. Just as bitter as the conversation had turned, I mused. But I did feel a bit more relaxed as it worked its magic, and it looked to me as though the others did as well. 

"Sometimes there is no saving others from themselves, I suppose," Elizabeth said, setting her glass down. "I say, though, Agnes, what is this about spending the night here?"

"It came up while you and Irene were in the other room," I explained. "Who knows how long this rain will go on, and I have to confess I should love to have us all five together for a while longer yet, awake or asleep!"

"It would be nice to spend the night here one last time," Elizabeth said, looking around the parlour where we had spent so many happy hours years before. 

"You make that sound so dramatic!" Jonathan said, though he did not look averse to the invitation.

"It is a dramatic time, is it not?" Irene demanded. Taking Benjamin unapologetically by the hand, she went on, "The cold, hard truth is that we may never all be together again. Let us not waste an opportunity to share our time when we have no way of knowing just how precious that time is!"

"I couldn't agree more," I said, and with that I stood up and smoothed my skirt out, and concluding it was too late to ring for a servant, I excused myself to seek out and prepare a second bedroom. 

It was a pity, I thought as I hurried up the stairs, that Elizabeth's old room was now occupied by a new boarder; but a night there might just be too poignant in any event. The floor on which my room was located did offer two tiny but unoccupied rooms, a perfect setting given that we would need at least one room for the babies and anywhere from one to three rooms for the adults. The spare rooms were a bit stuffy from disuse, but that was nothing I could not fix by opening the windows just enough to let in a pleasantly moist breeze and the uniquely comforting sound of a rainy night outside and a cosy room inside. I turned on the electric lights in all three rooms, including my own, casting an inviting glow in the darkened hallway; and I returned downstairs.  

Irene and Benjamin had, in my absence, abandoned any illusion of keeping their distance from one another, and were standing in a passionate embrace while Elizabeth and Jonathan watched from the couch, all three babies snuggled securely between them. "We're doing our best to give them their bit of space," Elizabeth whispered to me. "Benjamin made some comment about understanding why we all took it so hard that he's joined up, and they were drawn together just like magnets."

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked in an equally low voice.

"Let's get the babies off to bed," I said, gathering Frank up in my arms while Jonathan took Catherine and Elizabeth stood up gingerly to avoid waking Margaret. I attempted to make eye contact with Benjamin or Irene to alert them to where we would be spending the night, but they both had their eyes closed as they enjoyed their private moment. I concluded that Irene knew where my room was and would have little trouble finding us. 

The larger of the two little bedrooms had an empty chest of drawers, and the drawers served satisfactorily as makeshift beds for the babies. Miraculously, we got all three of them put down without a whimper - for the moment, at least. Back out in the hallway, I shut the door and said, "Now, you can take the other bedroom for yourselves or, if the mood strikes you..." I grinned and pointed at my bedroom. "Entirely up to the two of you, of course."

Elizabeth looked bemused. "Look at the monster I've created, Jonathan!" she remarked. 

"A beautiful monster indeed," he said. He gave his wife an uncertain look, and neither of them offered a response to my invitation. 

"Well, my door shall be unlocked, regardless of what you decide," I said, retiring to my room. "Good night."

"But where will Irene and Benjamin sleep?" Jonathan asked. "In the babies' room?"

"Don't be naïve, Jonathan," Elizabeth said. I might have known she, at least, would have guessed as to our sleeping arrangements!

I went into my room and, leaving the door only just ajar, I took my dress off and curled up on my bed in my brassiere and panties, and waited. I neither knew nor cared just what combination of my dearest friends might choose to invade my poorly-guarded privacy; the joy of having us all under one roof for the first time in so long was a pleasure unto itself. 

In retrospect, I should like to be able to say I had at least shown some reticence when Irene had told me of her conversation with Benjamin and the suggestion that had come of it. But for better or for worse, I cannot: I had only enthusiasm to offer in return, the edge-of-the-world sensibility that comes with the knowledge that one may well be going off to war having taken over in me as much as in most of the men in our lives, I suppose. In the event, as I waited and wondered and pondered and feared for our futures, I was overcome with the delicious naughtiness that always seemed just around the corner when we were all together. Not hearing Irene or Benjamin on the stair yet (I would later learn they had lingered in the parlour for an intense and rather uncomfortable conversation), I grew impatient with waiting for any of my friends to quench my thirst. And so I sat up and removed my brassiere and, after taking a moment to savour the bliss of setting my breasts free at last, I also made fast work of my panties. After wadding both together and tossing them into a corner, I lay back nude and spread-eagled and looked at the scandalously unlocked door. Had I really grown that uninhibited in these too-short years? 




Elizabeth 07: Before the Storm



Yes, I decided after a moment's reflection, I bloody well would!

Rejecting my inclination to lock the door, I propped myself up on my pillows and spread my legs as wide as I could, and began teasing my vulva with all ten fingers. I found I was already a bit wet with the anticipation that someone was bound to open that door sooner or later, that I had no idea just what was to transpire, but that it was certain to be something deliciously wicked. A hundred beautiful memories roared through my mind, of Elizabeth chatting comfortably with me while posing in the nude for Edward's painting, of the lovely anticipation that came with undressing at the baths, of the hot water and hotter conversation in the baths, of Elizabeth and Irene teaching me to masturbate, of our seaside orgy (which was at once vivid and a rose-coloured blur...just who had done what to whom? It hardly mattered!), of Irene's face buried in my pussy and mine in hers...I found there was no chance at settling on any one of them, nor was there any need to! It occurs to me now that I did not give any thought to James; those memories were golden as well, but tonight was for our gang only, I suppose. 

The spinning collage of beautiful images soon had me worked into a delicious lather, and my fingers were warm and wet with my own nectar before I even set out to make them so. Soon I had two fingers enveloped in my vagina while my left hand grazed my clitoris gently. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the glow of the light as I continued reviewing my own erotic history, wiggling my legs a bit and vocalizing my pleasure just a bit. Soon enough I was no longer teasing but rather rubbing firmly, exulting in the waves of sensation I had grown so good at inspiring in myself. 

It may have been the first stroke that was just a bit too intense and inspired me to jolt a bit, or it may have been the third or fourth for all I know. Such is the beauty of self-pleasuring that I likely did not know even at the time. What I did know was that the sensation grew strong enough to make me open my eyes just to get my bearings before plunging into the throes of orgasm; and I was greeted with the sight of Irene and Benjamin standing fully clothed at the foot of my bed. I sat up with a jolt, my strokes coming to a sudden end but my hand remaining clamped tightly inside me. 

"Lovely show, dear," Irene said. "Please don't let us stop you."

"Sorry we didn't let you know we were here," Benjamin added. "Just that you looked so beautiful, we didn't wish to spoil it!"

Perhaps surprisingly, in that moment, I felt beautiful as well. I suppose that is because, despite my extremely vulnerable state, I felt safe and loved as I would in no other company, and also very powerful in my state of sheer physical bliss. To say nothing of Benjamin's reaction to it all, which I detected with an unapologetic look at his trousers. "Yes, Benjamin, I can see how beautiful you find it. Perhaps you should join me in undressing before you tear a hole in your pants there?"

He and Irene both laughed, and he took me up on my invitation. "Couldn't agree more, if it comes to that, Agnes," he said, slipping off his waistcoat. 

"I'll help you, Benjamin," Irene said. "Agnes has her hands full, or rather she is full of her hands, or some such."

I thought of adding some commentary on how we knew Irene had missed helping Benjamin out of his clothes, but that would have been rather cruel. I realized as much just in time, and chose to enjoy the view silently as I lay back and resumed masturbating. No memory can ever compete with the joy of seeing a beautiful body emerge from hiding, particularly one that you haven't seen in several years. I enjoyed the show with growing hunger as Irene unbuttoned Benjamin's pants, pulled his shirt out of them, and peeled it away to reveal his broad and well-forested chest. I longed to run my fingers over it and through all that wonderfully virile hair, and the way he admired my own busy little show made it clear that such participation would have been most welcome. 

In no time, Irene - who was still fully clothed - had him down to his short pants, which were straining desperately against his immensely hard cock. Turning to me, she asked teasingly, "Do you think I should let the poor thing out?"

"Yes!" he and I answered in unison, and I was just as emphatic in my desire to see the treasure as he was to have it liberated. His eyes met mine, as he finally tore his adoring gaze away from my vagina, and we laughed together.

"Well, I can see what the two of you want, then!" Irene continued, not yet making any move to finish undressing him. "But don't I get a vote?"

"Get out of your dress and then we can talk about that!" I said, my breath now growing husky again. 

"Are we that desperate, dear?" Irene went on. She made no move to undress. 

"Do I look desperate?" I quipped, now being on the cusp of an orgasm any time I cared for it.

"He certainly does, doesn't he?" Irene mused. But the longing look on her face reflected her own sense of urgency to see and touch his lovely cock once again. 

"Yes, he does!" Benjamin confessed, wiggling adorably as if he were late for the water closet. Irene and I both laughed through the thick sexual tension, and to my relief Benjamin seemed to be amused at the situation as well. 

"Please, Irene," I said, nearly bursting with longing for a look at his nude body. "I know how much you've missed him, after all!"

"Well, yes," she conceded, now turning away with a coy look on her face to admire the night sky beyond my window, where I had left the curtains not quite drawn. "But we have got all night, after all; why hurry it all along so?"

"Why indeed, Irene?" came Elizabeth's voice. We all whipped around to see her and Jonathan standing hand in hand in the doorway, each of them wearing a big smile and absolutely nothing else. Jonathan's penis snapped to attention when he lay eyes upon me, much to my delight, and I gave him a come-hither look to which he readily agreed, hard cock in hand. 

"Well, I didn't expect you to join us!" Irene said, as I wondered how she felt about being the only one still fully clothed. 

"Did you really think we should want to miss out on the fun?" Elizabeth asked, shutting the door at last. She ran both hands through her head-hair and then took Benjamin in a fierce embrace. "We know how Irene shall enjoy this, don't we?"

Benjamin looked delighted, but he also gave Jonathan a concerned look.

"Don't mind me, Ben, we've talked about it," Jonathan said, and he scarcely had the words out before helping himself to a spot beside me on the bed, where he began to fondle my breasts most agreeably. I withdrew my hand from my pussy at last and took his erection in a warm, wet grip that inspired an appreciative gasp from him. Elizabeth would tell me later on that their talk about it had lasted all of half a minute before they both confessed that they were dying to join us. In those first moments of their presence, I was already able to guess as much!

"I haven't decided when to remove his short pants, Elizabeth," Irene warned. 

"Yes, well, I have!" Elizabeth replied. 

"That's hardly fair, is it!" Irene protested, though she was grinning in anticipation of a long look at both of her hirsute friends in the nude.

"Isn't it, though?" Elizabeth replied. "It is his penis, after all. I think he ought to be free to take it out for anyone he likes." To Benjamin she asked, "Do you care to take it out, my dear?"

"What does it look like?" he replied, helping himself to a run through Elizabeth's legendary triangle with his fingers. "Mmmmm, I should think Irene would like to be in my shoes right now."

"Or mine!" Elizabeth pulled down his short pants as quickly as she was capable of in her pleasure-addled state. "Oh, Benjamin, lovely!" He had found her clitoris, deep in its forest, and demonstrated that his touch was adept as ever after our lost years. "And one good turn deserves another!" With Benjamin finally, blissfully nude, she took his hard cock in a firm grip and soon had him just as worked up as he had her. 

"Let's join them on the bed!" I heard Benjamin say. Elizabeth apparently agreed, for they landed with an uninhibited thump beside Jonathan and myself a moment later; but I took no notice of Elizabeth's reaction, for I was concentrating on teasing Jonathan into a tizzy by tickling his cock gently while he rubbed and kissed me into a most intense orgasm. 

Once my screams of joy had subsided, I released my possibly-painful grip on Jonathan and opened my eyes to see Elizabeth and Benjamin had paused in their play to admire me. "We certainly taught you well, didn't we?" Elizabeth quipped. 

"And how," I whispered in a lusty breath. After a pleasant moment of silence, I was once again aware of Jonathan's throbbing presence in my right hand. "Oh dear, I'm not done, am I?" I asked, and without waiting for a response I slid down and took him in my mouth. 

As I was focused on bringing Jonathan off - and on his lovely moaning and wriggling about and rubbing my head as I went about it - I was not aware of Irene at last taking her dress off and joining us all on the bed. But she did, and in short order she took over both Benjamin's and Elizabeth's duties with one another, tickling them both mercilessly in their vast bushes. Their laughs and screeches mingled beautifully with Jonathan's moans. Though I was delighted with the taste and sensation of his hardness in my mouth and about my tongue, I did regret the missed opportunity to admire Elizabeth and Benjamin laughing side by side and clutching one another while Irene played in their pubes. That longing, perhaps, inspired a more intense approach on my part, and it seemed no time at all before Jonathan erupted with a roar above me and a splash in my throat. Though I never did care for that taste, I was always willing to tolerate it for the knowledge of the pleasure I had caused, never more than on that occasion. 

"Thank you," Jonathan whispered. As if reading my mind, he added, "Sorry about the taste."

"It's not so bad," I reassured him, sitting up. Then a lovely idea occurred to me. "I know just how to cleanse my palate!" I stood up and walked around the bed, to where Elizabeth was perched on the other edge, lost in the throes of sensation as Irene was now fingering her as she was so very good at doing. "Hope you don't mind, dear," I said, but I stopped short of actually asking permission. 

A sly grin through her intense moans revealed that she understood and did not object; and she even twisted around a bit to give me greater access. I leaned over and, hoping my hair tickled her a bit to add to the sensation, I latched gently on to her left breast. It was heaving about a bit as she approached orgasm, but I was nevertheless able to coax the sweet taste into my eager mouth. I was wonderfully aware of her intense breathing, and my own gentle touch was rewarded with an affectionate arm around my back as I suckled. Suddenly her hold on me strengthened a great deal and I found myself smashed up tightly against her bosom as Irene brought her to orgasm. I returned her hug as best I could in my awkward position, delighted to be sharing the beautiful moment with my dear friend. 

When the climax had passed, I planted a kiss between Elizabeth's breasts and made to stand up. But she tightened her arm around me. "The other one, Agnes!" she ordered. 

"I'm bursting here, too," Irene said behind me. 

"I can help with that," said Benjamin, who had come right after Elizabeth. And so he and Irene switched places and the two young mothers found themselves suckling their friends side by side. When I had drunk my fill and stood back up, I was greeted with the sight of the pair of them holding hands and kissing as they enjoyed the wonderfully absurd situation. 

I was not done, I realized. For all the wonderful adventures we had been through, and all the beautiful situations Elizabeth's magnificent ladygarden had inspired, I had never had the honour of tending to that garden myself. Presented with what was likely to be my one and only chance to rectify that, I found myself surprisingly reticent about it all. As I stood there admiring her majestic bush, I could not help but wonder if some mysteries were best left intact. 

It took but a moment to conclude that this was not such a mystery! With Elizabeth's eyes still closed while she and Irene were busy with one another, I surprised her with an elegant swoop in and a long and luxurious kiss on her vulva. 

Elizabeth responded immediately with a yelp of pleasant surprise. "Agnes! Oh my..."

"Isn't she brilliant at that?" Irene asked. 

"Yesssssss..." That endorsement encouraged me all the more to make the most of this last chance; but of course I was already glad I had taken it. Her wet, furry musk filled my senses as that luxurious hair tickled my face and my tongue tickled her lips and clitoris. Gripping her hips with both hands, I teased the edges of her bush with all my fingers as my tongue worked its magic on her. Bobbing my head a bit in rhythm, I licked as hard as I dared, half-hoping I was doing a poor job so as to have an excuse to keep at it for a nice long time. Alas, I was well-practiced and inspired by this unique opportunity to make love to my idol, and it seemed as though I wasn't buried in her bush for long at all before I was rewarded with a beautiful screech and a jerk of her body. Delighted with my handiwork, I pulled back and looked up just in time to enjoy the view as much as the sound. 

"So that's what I missed out on, never joining you and Irene," Elizabeth said.

"I missed out as much as you did," I said. "That was lovely!"

Elizabeth held out her arms to me. "Let me hold you, and let's watch this."

It was only as I was easing my way into her offer that I realized what 'this' was: Benjamin and Irene were fully engaged with one another next to us, he on top and she wrapping her legs tightly around his, kissing him passionately as if trying to make up for all those years in one hot moment. From where I lay beside them, it looked as though she might even succeed in that, for her responses were most intense indeed.

"How long have they been at it?" I asked.

"Since just after you went down on Elizabeth," said Jonathan, who I now saw was standing at the foot of the bed and stroking himself. "I think her responses inspired them!"

"They're certainly inspiring me, now," Elizabeth said. "How beautiful!" Indeed, Irene both looked and sounded beautiful as Benjamin thrust in and out, his entire body rigid and a look of absolute adoration in his eyes, which stayed open throughout so that he could see every bit of his lost love's joy. That joy was palpable for us all, and even at such close range I could only marvel at what Irene must be feeling! Elizabeth tightened her arms around me and Jonathan drank in the entire scene with great appreciation. All three of us were silent and still as Irene's orgasm rang out in every corner of the room, and likely all the way down the corridor as well. Thank heavens we had no guests that night!

"Come for me, Benjamin," she said once she had caught her breath. "Come for us all!"

"You know I will!" he grunted; and he pounded into her as rapidly as I had ever known anyone to do, drawing only encouragement from Irene in the form of breathless exhortations. These were soon rewarded with a breathless grunt as he came to rest, and Irene threw her arms around him. They remained silent and still and intertwined with one another, and I began to feel as though I ought to offer them some privacy - an absurd idea given the context, but something I felt nevertheless. Instead, I found myself rubbing Benjamin's shoulders with one hand and squeezing Elizabeth's hand with the other. 

"All's well that ends well?" I did not intend it as a question, but I could hear that it emerged as such. 

"I suppose it does," Elizabeth said, giving me a final squeeze and prodding me to let her out, as one of the babies had broken the silence simultaneously with my comment. She and Jonathan took their leave, and I, still uncertain about what to do next, also got out of bed and stood by the window. That perverse sense of false peace greeted me once again in the dark sky above and the quiet fields below, where once I had frolicked as a girl on school holidays and which - for the moment - young men were not dying by the hundred to defend. The horrid contrast of that near certainty with the passionate love implied by my nude body bathed in the warm light and white hot air was more than enough to cost me my final shred of composure, and I burst into tears. Tears of joy? Rage? Fear? Longing for that night to never end? All of that and more, dear reader, all of that and much more! 

I know not how long I stood there at the window and sobbed. I do know Elizabeth soothed me with her incomparable gentle touch upon her return to the room, and that Jonathan was just behind her and that they both enveloped me in an embrace that must have caught the attention of Irene and Benjamin, though they remained in bed. Neither Elizabeth nor Jonathan had any need to ask what had upset me; everyone in the room - and quite possibly in the entire country - understood. 

"It's okay, Agnes," Jonathan reassured me. "We're all scared."

"Let it out, you'll feel better," added Elizabeth.

"I already do," I assured them. "Thank you." Turning to see Irene and Benjamin snuggling together in a perfect tangle of joy, I asked, "Shall I sleep in the spare bedroom with the babies, do you think?"

"No," Irene said. 

"That's right, you're joining us," Benjamin said. "No one should sleep alone tonight. Not after what we've all just done and before what's coming."

"I quite agree," Elizabeth told me. "I only wish the bed were large enough for all five of us. But failing that, Agnes..."

She and Jonathan kissed me on the lips in turn and released me, and hand in hand they retreated to the door. "Good night, everyone," Elizabeth said, her hand on the electric light switch. She did not turn it off until I had climbed into bed, sandwiching Benjamin between Irene and myself. My inhibitions evaporated immediately, for his body and the suggestion of hers on his other side were an absolutely delightful combination at a moment when I needed all the companionship I could find. 

"Good night, Elizabeth and Jonathan," we three said in ragged harmony.

I curled my arm around Benjamin's side and gave his penis an affectionate squeeze, and ran my fingers through his pubic hair as best I could access it against Irene's body, which was pressed as closely as mine on the other side. He exhaled deeply in appreciation, and then I felt Irene's hand doing the same in turn, and finally giving mine an affectionate squeeze. There were no more words and no more tears, and I was left to enjoy the wonderful sensation of all three of our bodies wrapped up so tightly together in the warm dark. 

Benjamin had four more days in Westfordshire City before his induction; but I saw little of him after that, as he and Irene spent most of their time alone together at his boarding house. She never spoke of just what they did to fill those hours, not even to Elizabeth or myself, but then she hardly needed to explain. It is just as well that I know nothing of exactly what they did in those days of limbo when we were all present but not together, for that frees me to remember that beautiful night as the finale. It was that memory of how right he and Irene felt together with me in my bed that would linger as the last and best taste of our glorious youth.

It was that memory that sustained me through the sunny yet poignant morning on which we all had a subdued breakfast at the café nearest Benjamin's boarding house and then saw him off at the train station; and the dark day scarcely a week beyond when the inevitable news arrived; and the exhilarating yet horrifying morning only days after that when I kissed Irene, Elizabeth and Jonathan goodbye and boarded the train to the coast for training and the first of what would be dozens of overseas assignments. It kept me as warm as could be expected when I was alone in my bed in the drafty armoury where we slept while awaiting our ships, and in my bunk aboard the ship as we sailed into hell. It offered a modicum of comfort against the horrors of war that I saw in Africa and later the Americas as I filed one account after another for the readers back home, and against the black fear I experienced each time I heard of Benjamin's latest posting, and when I received the inevitable news that Jonathan had also been called up. It sustained me as best anything could through the weeks and months between bits of news from either of them, or letters from Elizabeth and Irene.