2 comments/  79032 views/  0 favorites

Travelling Folk Series Pt. 01

By: PAUL C



Travelling Folk Series Pt. 01: Fun Fair Attractions

Copyright by Paul, 2000 07 03. All rights reserved. All characters are fictitious.

Click Here to listen to Chapter 1. (11 min/RealMedia)

Click Here to listen to Chapter 2. (26 min/RealMedia)

Click Here to listen to Chapter 3. (5 min/RealMedia)

* * * * *

Chapter 1

Pat and Chris stood on the balcony, outside the Insurance Brokers office where they worked, overlooking the field that was to be used for this year's Fair and watched as the vehicles arrived and the men begin to set up the stalls and rides. 

Both were twenty two years of age. Pat being the elder by twenty minutes. Identical in every way. Light brown hair, blue eyes, turned up noses.

They shared a bedroom in their parent's house, only went on dates together, and always dressed alike. It was suggested, by some male members of staff in the office, that they would share a toilet seat if they could have. They always went together.

They had even lost their virginity's together in the same room and at the same time at a Christmas party they had both gone to. Different men though, although it was rumoured that they had held hands. Bill, who worked in a local Supermarket as a butcher took Pats and Nick a car mechanic, took Chris'. Both were Childhood friends.

That had been over eighteen months before. Neither had had sex for seven months since they both broke up with their boyfriends when they'd suggested swapping at a party Christmas last. 

"That's a new one." Pat said pointing down to where one of the side stalls was being erected.

"What is it?" Chris peered, shading her eyes against the bright sunlight.

"Crazy Joe's Rifle Range." Pat read as the sign was positioned above the counter.

"I don't like guns." Chris ' eye was drawn to a tall, thin man with long black hair and a beard wearing a sleeveless denim jacket with a black dog on a lead walking towards the entrance of their office block.

"He's not coming in here with a dog, surely." 

"No." Pat said. "He's sure to read the sign."

They both returned to the office and sat at their desks. They both heard the lift outside whirl to a stop and the clunk of the door as it opened. A second clunk and the lift whirled away.

The outer office door opened. The man stepped inside

Pat stood up from her desk and approached the counter. She heard a growl and stopped. Chris came and stood by her side.

"Down Killer." The man said harshly and jerked on the chain he was holding.

"Yes sir?" Pat spoke hardly above a whisper. "What can we do for you?"

"Have a shooting range. They won't let me open without insurance. What's the cheapest?"

"Against fire, theft and public liability?" Pat asked, opening a book from under the counter. "We have a form to fill in."

"Just the liability." He scratched the tattoo of a crow above a heart on his right shoulder with the leather strap of his dog's lead. "Nobody steals from me when Killer's around. How much?"

"One hundred." Pat quoted from a table in the book.

"Where's the form?" He demanded brusquely. 

He reached inside a breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a roll of money. He flicked off five twenties and dropped them onto the counter. Pat picked up her pen and started to complete the form.

"Name?" She asked, conscious that the man was staring down the front of her blouse as she leaned forward over the counter. She wished she could remember how many buttons were undone.

"Crazy Joe."

"Real name please."

"Joe Watson."

"Address?"

"What's the name of that field."

"You must have a home."

"My home is where I am."

"Occupation. Never mind. I'll put travelling showman."

"Do you want a job?" He asked suddenly.

"I have a job." Pat replied. 

"Just this week." He looked Chris up and down. "Both of you. Six to eleven. Give you fifty each a night."

"We have jobs." Chris hesitated just enough to betray her interest.

"My camper and trailer are parked behind the stall. Be there at six and I'll let you have what I want you to wear. Five nights. That's a two hundred and fifty each."

Clerks in insurance companies are not well paid. Well not paid enough to turn down the offer of an extra two hundred and fifty.

All the afternoon they talked first about his offer, then what they would do with the money. 

The office closed at five and they hurried home to change. Both wore blue jeans, a white blouse and slip on flat black shoes.

They left to head back to the fair ground without eating the meal their mother had cooked.

They both felt excited. It was like an adventure.

Ignoring the catcalls and wolf-whistles of the men still working on the fair ground they made their way to the rear of the rifle range.

They were ten minutes early.

He was sitting on a small folding chair by the side entrance to his camper his dog curled in a ball beneath his outstretched legs. It lifted its head and growled deep inside its chest at their approach.

"Down boy." He spoke gently and the hackles that had risen on the dog's back began to subside. "Friends."

"Good." He stood up. "Come in."

They followed him inside. The dog stayed outside, sitting up, alert, guarding.

He picked up two costumes from the bed. A single piece outfit comprising of a red, white and blue stripped top with a red skirt and white panties.

"Try them on."

The two girls looked from at the costumes then at each other.

"They're very small." Chris held.

"Just put them on."

"But you're here." Pat protested.

"I've got better things to do than look at you."

He stepped out of the camper and closed the door behind him.

"It won't hurt to try them on I suppose." Chris said unbuttoning her blouse. 

Her bra, jeans and panties soon joined it on the bed and she picked up the costume. She looked across at her sister, who was as equally naked.

"Here goes." She said stepping into the panties part of the costume, pulling the rest up and putting her arms through the shoulder straps.

She watched as her sisters tight little bottom disappeared inside her costume and remembered how they had used to play with each other's bodies when they had been younger. That had stopped when they had boyfriends but there were times when she longed to share her sister's bed again. It was July. Nobody had touched her since before Christmas. Even this Crazy Joe was beginning to look attractive.

Why did she suddenly feel like this?

She stood close behind her sister and slowly pulled up the zip of her costume, the side of one finger running up her spine. She saw her shiver.

Pat turned around and looked deep into Chris' eyes. For a moment she thought she was about to kiss her.

The door handle rattled, breaking the spell.

"Are you finished in there?"

Chris turned, offering her back and zip to Pat who fastened her.

"Yes." She called.

The door opened and Crazy Joe climbed back into the camper.

"Turn around." He said to Pat.

Chris watched her sisters skirt flare outwards flashing the white of her panties.

"Now you." 

Chris repeated the movement, feeling the movement of her own skirt.

"Fine." Joe ran his fingers through his beard. "You'll do just fine. Be back here, changed, for six tomorrow."

Chris was first into bed and she watched as her sister undressed.

Pat stood naked in front of the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door.

"It makes you wonder what a man sees in a woman's body." She said, running her hands down her sides.

Chris thought that she could tell her.

The familiar itch was starting between her legs. It had been coming with more and more frequency of late. She placed a hand upon her pubic mound and squeezed. This sometimes relieved the pressure inside her. Not tonight. She wished her sister would hurry up and put on her night-dress and climb into her bed. Her finger slipped between her legs and massaged the outer lips of her pussy.

At last the light was off and the goodnights had been said.

She bent her knees and allowed her thighs to flop open, like a frog on a dissecting table.

With the index and ring finger of her hand she spread the lips of her pussy and ran her middle finger between them feeling her wetness increase as she did so. Describing circles around her clit with the tip of a finger she thought back to the last time she had let Nick have her. It had been on the Sunday afternoon before Christmas. Two days before the break up. Their mother had gone visiting and wouldn't be back for at least three hours. She had led Nick upstairs to her bedroom leaving Pat and Bill the front room to themselves. First they had kissed, standing up at the foot of the bed as they fumbled with each other's clothes. 

Finally naked they had lain on top of the covers on her bed and kissed some more. His hands were soon on her boobs. Rough skinned hands. Strong hands from manual work. Sometimes, when he squeezed them, she would almost cry out in pain. His hand had moved down to her stomach then on to her pubic mound. Squeezing it. She'd opened her legs for him and arched her back as he pushed his longest finger inside her. He'd pulled it out then pushed it back in again. Despite his roughness she found her body responding and indicated her agreement for him to proceed with a moan. He'd knelt between her open thighs and ran the tip of his cock up and down the outside of her pussy. She had reached down between them and held herself open as he had lunged forward. Filling her with one thrust. 

She'd grunted as their pubic mounds had banged together. He'd taken that as a sign of her pleasure and began moving quickly in and out of her. She'd lifted her hips from the bed and tried to meet his thrusts with her own. She couldn't match his pace so had relaxed back onto the bed and waited for him to come. He wasn't long and she soon felt him jerking inside her as his balls emptied.

He pulled out of her and left the room to visit the toilet. She had heard the door close behind him and had reached down to furiously massaged her clit. As she was doing now. Trying to control her breathing as she let the peaks of pleasure wash over her. Feeling the pressure building inside her until, with a strangled cry, she came.

She turned onto her side and looked at the shape in Pat's bed.

Had she heard?

Nothing stirred for what seemed ages then, as she watched, Pat turned slowly into her back. Did she look in her direction? Yes. She held her breath.

She heard rather than saw Pat bend her knees and open her legs. Straining her ears she heard the sound of a hand rubbing against a sheet. Heard her sister's sharp intake of breath. The sound in the back of her throat which she always made before coming.

Pat suddenly turned onto her side facing away from her. She heard her fight to control her breathing, then sigh.

Chapter 2

They returned to the fairground carrying their uniforms in carrier bags by six the following evening. The lights were on above the stalls and rides even though it was bright sunlight. The smells of Burgers and candyfloss filled the air, together with the sounds of music from a dozen sources and the calls of vendors attracting customers. They had discussed the events of the previous evening and what was to be expected them that evening at every opportunity during the day. Their supervisor had observed twice in the morning that their minds were not on their work that day.

After lunch, they had visited the personnel department and checked on their vacation entitlement and both applied for the remainder of the week off.

"You may as well." The supervisor commented as she was handed the forms to sign. "You're minds obviously won't be on work."

Crazy Joe told them to use his camper to change in. He tossed Chris the keys. 

"Tell Killer you have the key." He said.

They went through the back of the tent; Killer lifted his head and growled as they approached the camper.

"I've got the key." Chris felt foolish, dangling a small bunch of keys in front of a dog.

The dog stopped growling and lay down.

Inside they quickly stripped. Smiling at each one another they looked at each other's naked bodies and remembered.

They fastened each other's costumes and returned to the front of the tent. Past the dog, who watched them in silence.

The crowds were starting to gather. The noise levels rising. The smells intensifying.

Joe sat on a stool behind the counter at one end. A small metal cash box on the shelf in front of him.

He picked up one of the eight air rifles chained to the counter.

"Here is how you load them." 

He broke open the front section of the barrel. 

"Place the pellet. Round end first in the hole like this."

He loaded the weapon.

"Got that."

He pointed the weapon at the heavy canvas screen behind the targets and squeezed the trigger. The pellet thudded into it.

He pointed to the targets. Six fingers of metal in each block. Pull the string to re-set the targets. He pointed to wooden toggles that dangled above each firing point. They were set fine for somebody his height but the girls would have to lean against the counter and stand on tiptoe to reach them.

"Bring all money to me. Tickets on the prizes show how many coupons for a win. Six from six for a coupon."

He looked them both up and down.

"When you get ammunition or prizes." He pointed to four plastic buckets half filled with pellets on the lowest shelve of prizes. "Keep your backs to the counters and bend over from the waist."

"But they'll see our."

"What do you think you're here for? Your conversation? Don't stand in front of anybody when they're firing."

He turned from them and picked up an old hand held megaphone.

"Roll up. Roll up. Impress the pretty girls."

The customers started to arrive. And arrive.

At first they would crouch to collect the ammunition from the buckets but after being shouted at they started to do as they had been asked.

As Chris whispered in Pat's ear. 

"It's not as if they're our real panties. We would probably show more at the beach." 

As the evening progressed and the beer flowed the customers became more and more boisterous and rowdy. And more familiar. First they would touch their waists as they reached to reset the targets, then their backsides and finally one man reached out for Chris's tits.

A gnarled old walking stick came down upon his wrist. Crazy Joe loomed above him, standing as he was on the duckboards behind the counter.

"No touching." His growl was deeper than Killer's was. "Not unless you're invited."

He looked at Chris, and winked. 

"Roll up, roll up." He returned to his stool and spoke into his megaphone. "Win a kiss from a pretty girl. Only five coupons."

The girls were staggered. 

"We didn't agree to that." They protested in unison. 

"It'll do you no harm. Looking at you, you could both do with some."

"Roll up. Roll up." He went back to the megaphone.

"What did he mean by that." Pat hissed at Chris.

"I don't know." She replied.

"Are you going to do it?"

"I don't know. Are you?"

"Only if you are."

"He'll have to pay us more."

"Yes. If he pays us more."

"You tell him."

"No you."

"Come on you two." Crazy Joe shouted. "They're are customers waiting."

"We'll tell him together."

"Later."

"Give me some slugs." A man in his mid thirties with a scar down the side of his face and dressed in motor cycle leathers snapped. He dropped a coin onto the counter top. Two other men dressed the same, and a hard-faced girl, not wearing very much, stood behind him.

"Five for a Kiss." He looked Chris up and down. "How many for a fuck."

Chris stepped back and looked towards Joe. He sat on his stool, watching.

"Hey Joe." The man called. "How many to fuck her?" 

Some customers, especially those with children, were moving away.

"Keep your language clean." Joe stood up.

"Come on, Jim." The girl said, pulling on his arm. "It's time for the next performance."

"I'll be back." He leered at Chris.

Chris and Pat ran to Joe.

"Who was that?" They asked together.

"Mean Jim. They call him." Joe watched as the crowd swallowed up the group. "Used to be in the same Bikers club as me. I left when he wanted to change it into a Hell's Angles Chapter. He runs the Wall of Death."

As he spoke they could her the revving of a motor bike engine in the distance.

They stood closer together.

"I don't like him." Chris looked around nervously.

"Don't mind him." Joe smiled encouragingly. "He won't touch you if he knows you're with me. Who do you think gave him the scar?"

"I need the toilet." Pat said suddenly.

"So do I." Chris joined in.

"One at a time."

"But." Both girls started talking at once.

"One at a time." He looked at Pat. "You first."

Then at Chris. 

"You. Back to work."

Pat walked slowly and nervously through the crowds to the plastic cubicles on the corner. She wished Chris were with her. As she waited for her turn in the queue a hand touched her shoulder. She jumped and almost ran.

"Hey." The girl with Mean Jim stood by her side. "Jim says, come and party tonight, after the Fair closes."

"NO." Pat replied indignantly. "Go away. Leave me alone."

"That Crazy Joe can't satisfy two girls like you anymore. I've got five studs who need servicing."

Her turn had come and she stepped quickly forward, closing the door behind her and locking it.

What was she going to do? How was she going to get back? She was sure they would all be waiting for her when she went outside. She needed the toilet badly.

Reaching behind her she managed to locate the top of the zip, with difficulty, and pulled it down. She slipped her shoulders from the straps and looked down into the bowl. The previous occupant hadn't ensured her mess had been fully flushed away. Her stomach turned.

She operated the flush. Pulled off some paper and wiped the seat then crouched above it ensuring that the skin of her ass and thighs didn't come into contact with it. The relief as her bladder emptied was immense. She finished and wiped the drips from her pussy.

After struggling into her costume she stopped and pondered. What if they were outside? They could rape her. She wished Chris was there and, strangely, Joe.

Somebody thumped on the door.

"Come on. Hurry up in there I'm dying to go."

"Alright." She called back. "I'm coming." 

She pressed the button above the sink for water to wash her hands. Nothing came out.

She slowly opened the door and looked around. She could see no sign of the girl. Yes she could. Standing on the platform outside the Wall of Death enticing passers by to go in.

A girl, in a short dress and high heels brushed past her.

She had to go now. Continuously looking around she hurried back to the stall.

Chris had a worried look on her face when she reached there.

"You were gone so long." She hugged her. "I thought something had happened to you."

Pat stepped back. Somehow she didn't feel the need to be so close to her sister.

"Are you alright." Joe called.

"The girl was there." Pat shouted back.

"Lucy." Joe smiled as if remembering something.

"They invited us to a party."

"Go, if you want, now back to work." He looked at Chris. "See Mary in the Burger bar and pick up some on the way back. Tell her it's for Crazy Joe."

Chris looked at Pat.

"Go on." Pat smiled. "You'll be alright."

Chris looked doubtful but headed off in the direction of the toilets.

Having loaded the last firer Pat stood by the side of Crazy Joe's stool.

"What did she want you to do?" He asked without looking at her.


Travelling Folk Series Pt. 01



"Just come and party." Pat replied, looking at Joe's face properly for the first time. If he shaved his beard and cut his hair he could be a good looking man. She laughed nervously as he turned to look at her. "Said she had five studs to service."

"Yes." He smiled. "She's getting on, is Lucy. Probably can't take it like she used to."

"Like she used to?"

"Oh. Years ago. When I rode in a club we used to get a lot of people joining us at weekends. For many it was just an excuse to get drunk and have a gang bang on a Saturday night. For the girls as well. Nobody was raped. Lucy was a champion. She could take twenty men in a night and look fresh as a daisy in the morning. I didn't recognise the third man with them. The kid. The other one was Harry. Qualified Accountant, also a nasty piece of work."

His hand dropped to her bottom. She tensed every muscle in her body.

"Give them an extra treat this time." His fingers were pushing the material of the costume's panties between her ass cheeks. 

Nobody had ever touched her there before. She closed her eyes. She opened them to look into Joe's. His hand stopped moving between the cheeks of her ass. 

He looked down then away. His fingers started pulling the material out of her crevice. She put her hand behind her and caught hold of his wrist.

"It's alright." Something was fluttering inside her. "As you said. Let's give them a treat."

They looked into each other's eyes. Pat reached down for the megaphone and raised it to her lips.

"Roll up. Roll up." She spoke into it. "Win a kiss with five coupons."

Chris had joined the queue for the toilets. In the queue for the men's opposite she saw one of the men in motor bike leathers from earlier. She took a step backwards. He turned his head away, a hurt expression in his eyes.

She finished inside her cubicle and stepped outside. As she walked back to the stall she was conscious of being followed. She stopped and turned around. The man in leathers walked into her. They instinctively held on to each other. She looked up into his face. He was certainly no older than she was. He had lovely blue eyes. He smelled of leather and oil and sweat.

"I'm sorry." He stumbled over the words. "Lucy told us what she said to you."

"To my sister."

"I didn't want you to get the wrong idea. I've only been with them two weeks. The man I replaced broke his leg. My name's John."

"Mine's Chris." She responded automatically. 

"Hallo Chris." He smiled.

"Hallo John." She replied, returning his smile.

She realised they were still holding onto each other and stepped back.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean." He started, flustered.

"It's alright. Calm down." She looked around. "I must get back."

"Can I walk with you?" He asked in a rush.

"I have to get some Burgers on the way." 

"So have I."

"Well." She looked him up and down. "Lets go."

She linked an arm through his as if fearful of being lost in the crush.

They reached the Burger van. He ushered her in front of him. It seemed natural that he would stand close behind her with his hands on her hips. She leaned back against him. That seemed natural as well.

"Three Burgers and three coffees please." She ordered from a large woman in her fifties. "For Crazy Joe."

"Four coffee's and five Burgers and three cokes for Mean Jim." John ordered when she looked at him.

The woman took a notebook from underneath the counter and noted the orders on different pages.

"Tell Jim he owes me twenty already. He hasn't settled up from last week."

"Will do, Mary."

As the drinks and Burgers were being prepared, and placed on the bases of old cardboard boxes for carrying, John turned Chris to face him.

"Can I see you?" He spoke softly, perhaps if she didn't hear the question she couldn't say no. "Later. After we close."

"Aren't you going to party?" Chris teased.

"No." He was embarrassed. "I don't do what they do. I've told you."

"I've my sister to think about. She can't walk home on her own."

"Oh alright then." He picked up his tray. "I'd better go."

Before she could speak he had gone.

"Nice lad that John." Mary observed into the night sky. "Come here."

She spoke briefly to her assistant and, opening the door at the end of the van, stepped down onto the grass. 

"Come here." She said again and Chris reluctantly followed her behind the van.

"As I said." Mary began when they were out of sight. "That John's a nice boy. I can't imagine why he's got involved with that Jim McArthur. He's a bad lot. Him and that Harry. They started running the wall of death about four years ago. Said they'd won it off the two brothers who had in before. Poker or something. I've never really trusted them. Always late paying up. Always borrowing things without asking."

"They must be brave to do that." Chris nodded in the general direction of the Wall of Death.

"Don't believe it." Mary shrugged her shoulders. "They potter around the bottom. They hire in riders to do the dangerous stunts."

"John said the last man broke his leg."

"And nearly every other bone in his body."

"Is it that dangerous?"

"It is when they get the riders to try more and more difficult stunts to draw in the crowds."

"What about Lucy?"

"No better than she should be I suppose."

"Now you get on with you." Mary led the way back to the front of the van. "You'll do alright with Crazy Joe. He's straight. His parents ran the stall for years. Father's dead and his mothers in a Nursing Home somewhere after a stroke. She doesn't recognise anybody anymore. He's been running the stall for six years now. It's his first time on this site."

"Is it true he was in a bikers gang?"

"If that's what he told you." She rested her hand on the door handle. "Nobody messes with Crazy Joe and that dog."

Chris collected the tray and made her way against the flow of people back to the stall.

"You took your time." Joe said, taking a Burger and coffee.

"Mary wanted to speak to me."

"Don't believe everything she says."

"Oh. Why not?"

"Because she doesn't know everything."

Chris turned and saw Pat bending over from the waist to collect a prize. Her panties were disappearing between the cheeks of her ass. She started forward when something hit her in the side of the breast. She dropped the cardboard box holder their Burgers and coffees and sat down.

Her breast started throbbing and there was a smear of blood on her fingertips when she pulled them away from it. She burst into tears.

"Stop firing everybody." She heard Joe call out.

She felt Pat's arm about her.

"What happened?" Pat asked.

"Your panties." Carol sniffed through her tears. "I tried to warn you."

"You silly thing." Pat wiped away her tears with the side of her finger. "Joe wants us like that."

"I told you not to walk in front of people when they're firing. Let's see what the damage is." Joe knelt in front of her and reached for the front of her costume.

"Not here in front of everybody." Pat said holding his wrist.

"Alright." Joe said. He lifted his head. 

"We're closed." He bellowed.

Turning to Pat he continued.

"Go to the Burger bar and get Mary."

"What about?" Pat started to ask.

"I'll look after her. Now hurry."

"Will I be alright?" Chris looked up at him, her eyes wide with pain and fear.

"Of course you'll be alright." He studied the small hole in the side of her costume. "Nobody that I know of has died from a pellet wound before. Just sit quietly."

Pat hurried to the Burger bar. All the self-doubts and hesitations of the last time she had walked this route had disappeared.

"Mary." She addressed the elder woman behind the counter. 

"Hallo again dear."

"I think you mean my sister. She's been shot. Joe wants you."

A shout attracted her attention and she saw the youngest of the party in bike leathers running towards her. He stopped in front of her. For a moment she thought he was going to hug her.

"I heard you'd been shot." He panted.

"Not me, my sister."

"You're not Chris?" He peered intently at her.

"No, I'm Pat. It's Chris who's been shot."

"Go and get your bike, John." Mary stepped down from the van carrying a first aid box.

"Where was she shot?" Mary asked as they hurried towards the rifle range.

"Behind the counter."

"No. Not where. Where?" Mary gestured at her body.

"Oh." Pat hesitated. "In the." She touched herself.

"Right."

The crowd was five deep at the counter watching Chris sitting on the ground holding her boob.

"Close the flaps and give us some privacy, Joe." Mary ordered, kneeling down by Chris's side and opening her first aid box.

When Joe had done as instructed Mary unzipped the back of Chris's costume and pulled the strap forward over her shoulder exposing her breast.

Joe coughed.

"What are you still doing in here." Mary snapped. "Get outside."

Joe slunk out under the counter flap and closed the little door behind him.

"Move along everybody." He chivvied away the remaining onlookers. "We're closed for the night. She's not badly hurt."

His last words were drowned by the sound of the engine of John's motor bike as he pulled up by his side.

Joe studied the machine closely. A seven-fifty cc Yamaha. Side panniers and pillion back rest. Joe had opened a pannier and taken out a second crash helmet.

"Mary said I might have to take Chris to hospital." He explained.

Joe nodded.

"Nice machine."

"Suits me." John replied.

"Shouldn't you be working?"

"Yes he should." Mean Jim stood with his hands on his hips five yards away. Harry stood off to one side. "Get your ass back there. You haven't finished yet."

"I have." John protested. "I've ridden my last turn tonight."

"Get back there or it will be your last."

"No." John stood straight, crash helmet dangling from his hand.

"He's doing me a favour." Joe said stepping between them.

"Stay out of it Joe." Jim took two paces forward, squaring up to Joe. "He works for me."

"Not anymore." John stepped up to Joe's shoulder. "I quit."

"You heard Jim." There was a note of menace in Joe's voice not missed by Jim. "Back off and let him be."

Jim looked around. People were smiling behind their hands.

"I'll see you later." Jim threatened.

"You'll do nothing, Jim." Joe spoke in the same low tone. The note of menace still present. "Or I'll come and see you."

"Don't push me, Joe."

"I'm not. Just walk away."

Harry took a step closer. All four men were poised.

Mary climbed out from under the counter flap with Pat. 

"Give Pat the keys to your camper." She said to Joe, eyeing up the situation. "The girl can't go home dressed like that."

Joe reached into his pocket and tossed Pat his keys without taking his eyes from Jim's face.

"Tell Killer you've got them."

Pat caught the keys and disappeared back inside the stall.

"You take that girl home John." Mary turned to Joe. "Hardly broke the skin. It will have stung for a bit. I put some antiseptic cream and a plaster on it. She'll be fine."

She turned to Jim.

"I want to talk to you." She said at the top of her voice. "You owe me money."

Jim turned away.

"Yeah. Yeah. I know. I'll settle in the morning."

Mary followed behind him.

"Make sure you do."

They disappeared into the crowd.

"I thought they were going to do something then." John observed.

"Not Jim." Joe scratched his beard. "He prefers dark alley's and two or three to one. You can sleep in the stall tonight. I normally leave Killer inside on his own. He'll like the company."

The counter opened and Chris and Pat came out.

Chris had changed into her jeans and blouse. Pat was still in her costume. Chris smiled weakly at John.

"I'll take you home if you like." John said offering her a crash helmet.

"What about Pat?"

"I'll be alright here." She looked at Joe. "You'll see I'm alright. Won't you Joe?"

"Yeah."

"Sit on the back and hold on tight to me." 

Chris looked doubtful.

"You won't go too fast. Will you?"

John pressed the self-starter and the machine throbbed into life. He twisted the right hand grip and it growled.

"I'll see you at home." Chris called over her shoulder as John pulled away.

Chris touched John on the shoulder when she wanted him to turn. Shouting in his ear to stop when they arrived outside the front of her house. They both dismounted and he kicked down the stand. Taking her helmet he placed it inside a pannier hung his own from a handlebar and placed his heavy leather gauntlets on the seat.

He followed her up the path to her front door. Watching the way the material of her jeans seemed to move in and out of her ass cheeks as she walked.

She turned to face him. He stopped, close to her but not touching.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asked nervously.

"I'll be at the stall." Something was fluttering inside her.

"I mean." He started to say then looked down at the ground.

"I know what you mean."

Chris reached up and pulled his lips down onto her own. At first they were tense and stiff then they relaxed and parted slightly as he responded to her kiss.

His hand moved up to her breast and his fingers closed around it. Her hand caught his wrist and pulled it away.

He stepped back, stammering his apologies.

"Not that one." Chris smiled at him and placed his other hand on her other breast. "It's a bit sore."

She stepped closer and kissed his cheek then his lips. His fingers massaged her breast.

She stepped back.

"I have to go in." She kissed his cheek again. "My mother will be worried. I'll see you in the morning."

"Shall I pick you up?"

For the first time she didn't give a thought to what her sister would be doing.

"Ten o'clock?" She suggested.

"We could go for a ride."

"I'll make some sandwiches."

"Ten o'clock."

He released her breast and they kissed again.

She stood in the doorway watching until he disappeared from view.

Chapter 3

Joe ducked down and followed Pat back inside the stall. Her panties were still pushed up between her ass cheeks he noted.

"You don't have to leave them up there." He said as they stood up inside.

"Leave what up where?"

"Your knickers up your ass."

"They're not up it." She'd never talk to anybody like this before. She felt an excitement she hadn't known before.

"You know what I mean."

"Do I." She stepped forward, almost touching him. "Chris told me what Mary had said about you."

"I told her not to believe everything she said."

"She told me that as well." She looked up into his eyes. "Why haven't you got a woman?"

"There have been woman." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "They all wanted to settle down in a house with a garden and raise children."

She placed her hand on top of his.

"Every woman wants that." She moved his hand to her hip. "In time."

"Is that what you want?"

"Until today I thought it was."

She reached up with both of her hands and pulled his mouth down to her own. His lips were stiff at first then softened and opened. Their tongues met. Fenced, then swirled around each other. He pulled her to him his fingers searching for and finding the zip on the back of her costume. He pulled it down to where her buttocks began to swell and slipped the straps off her shoulders. The costume started to fall to the ground, then stopped, held by the material between her ass cheeks. They smiled at one another as he reached down and pulled it out. The costume lay around her ankles. She stepped from it. He held her at arm's length and looked at her body. Her firm breasts with their erect, pointed nipples. Her flat stomach and protruding pubic mound covered in a mass of short dark curly hair. He let his finger trace a path through those hairs and between her legs. Pat gasped and held her breath as his finger prodded at, then pushed between, the lips of her pussy.

She released her breath with a whimper. Joe knelt and guided her to the ground then onto her back. She shivered as her back came into contact with the cold, hard surface of the duckboards.

She watched as Joe knelt between her thighs and looked at her exposed pussy. She'd never felt this open, vulnerable, in front of anybody before. At yet, at the same time, full of confidence. First in herself then in Joe.

He lowered his head and kissed each thigh. Instinctively she pulled her knees up to her nipples and placed the soles of her feet on his shoulders. She felt his warm breath against her pussy. His fingers gently pulling her lips apart and his tongue, wet and pliable, pushed between them and licked at her insides. She arched her back as it touched her clit, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her body. She gasped out loud as first one finger then a second was worked into her hole. Fucking her with them as he licked and sucked and licked at her clit. Her body tensed, almost in spasm as she came and came.

She lost track of time. He was lying by her side one arm behind her neck feeling her breasts. She smiled at him and reached for the buckle on his belt. Moving down his body she pushed and pulled at his jeans and underpants until her was naked from the waist down.

Kneeling by his side she picked up his prick and pulled back the foreskin. She released it and watched, fascinated as it started to slowly recover the head of his cock. She pulled it back again and slowly, hesitantly, lowered her mouth to its tip. She licked the little hole at the top, tasting the clear thick liquid that formed inside it.

She took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and took half his length inside it in one movement. She moved her lips back and forth along his shaft, listening to the changes in his breathing. Excited by the thought of the pleasure she was giving to her man. He was her man. She moved her hand in time with her mouth. She heard him moan.

She had an itch inside her that only one thing could cure. Lifting her head she straddled his hips and guided the tip of his prick to the opening of her pussy. With a gasp she sank down upon it. Feeling it filling her. She raised herself and dropped again feeling his bollocks beneath her ass cheeks. Ass cheeks he cupped and squeezed. Placing her hands on his chest she looked into his eyes and smiled as she moved up and down on his cock. As she looked he closed his eyes for a few seconds they re-opened them moving his hands to her breasts then back to her ass cheeks as his hips started to buck beneath her.

She felt him grow inside her as his movements became more urgent and her own pressure built. She stiffened, her pussy clamping tight around his cock as he jerked and pumped inside her. She collapsed forward onto his chest; her boobs squashed flat against the material of his denim jacket. They both breathed deeply, still joined together.

Hearing the sound of an approaching motor bike engine they pulled from one another. Smiling and touching the dressed, standing side by side, an arm around each other as the counter flap lifted and the little door opened.

John stood there with the biggest smile in creation on his face.

Squeezing one of Pat's ass cheeks Joe walked through to the back of the tent and his camper. 

"I'll get you some blankets." He said over his shoulder. "Wheel the bike inside."

"Is Chris alright?" Pat asked looking at John's face and the smudge of lipstick on his cheek.

"She's wonderful." He replied, then looked sheepishly away.

There was a growl behind them and the both turned to where Killer stood, hackles raised as if about to attack.

Pat took two paces towards him.

"It's alright Killer." She said crouching. "I have the key."



Travelling Folk Series Pt. 02



Travelling Folk Series Pt. 02: All the Fun of the Fair

Copyright 2000 by Paul. All rights reserved. All events and characters are fictitious.

* * * * *

Part 1

Pat opened her eyes and for a moment almost panicked. This wasn't her room. She looked down at the arm thrown protectively across her breasts then along its length to the tattoo of the heart and crow on its shoulder. Her eyes moved up to the shoulder-length long, untidy hair that could do with a wash and trim. The rather thin face with the thin lines at the corners of the eyes. The twinkling brown eyes that looked into her own.

Something hard and long was pressing against the top of her thigh. She reached down and held it. It felt warm and strangely comforting. She ran her hand up and down its length listening to the change in Crazy Joe's breathing as she did. His arm moved and his fingers cupped first one, then her other breast. As she felt her nipples responding his hand moved down her body, feeling first her stomach then her pubic mound. She shifted in the narrow bed, opening her legs for him. His fingers massaged the lips of her pussy, opening her. His pushed one finger inside then worked in a second. She arched her back lifting her pelvis from the bed. Her own breathing was changing. She was becoming wetter as his fingers continued moving in and out of her. She squeezed his cock tighter and moved her hand faster. 

Suddenly he pulled his fingers from her and moved on top of her. He had a serious look on his face as he pushed forward, his cock knocking at her entrance. She held her lips open with the fingers of one hand and guided him inside with the other. He filled her with one thrust, driving the breath from her body. He moved out, then back in again. She bent her knees and lifted her hips to meet him. He quickened, driving the breath from her body again. She started to pant. Something was building inside her. Tightening. She threw her head from side to side as she came. He was still moving. She was building again. She couldn't come again, not twice in a row. This time she cried out as she came. She could feel him jerking inside her. Moving slowly in and out then stopping. She felt his cock slip from her as it shank. She smiled up at him, a look of disbelief on her face.

"I didn't think it could be like that," she said, lifting her face for a kiss.

He looked down on her face, and then her breast's as he sat back on his heels, then her wide-open pussy. She moved to cover herself with her hands but he caught her wrists and held them.

She tensed, then relaxed.

Let him look.

He lifted his eyes to look into hers.

"I'm hungry," he said, releasing her hands and standing up. "Go and see if Mary and Kelly have that van of theirs open yet. I've got to take Killer down by the canal. I'll have an egg and bacon sandwich."

He was already into his jeans and was buttoning his shirt before she moved.

This is a bit cheeky, she thought. I sleep with him, let him have me and now I have to get the breakfast. Though, if it was a choice between getting breakfast and walking that dog. 

Pat climbed from the low bed and looked around. She felt strange. She was so used to seeing Chris, her sister. For a moment she felt very alone.

She pulled on her knickers and jeans and slipped on her shoes before putting on her blouse. She could hear voices coming from inside the rifle range tent and, lifting the rear flap, slipped inside. Killer sat three feet from her, hackles raised and teeth bared. She could hear a deep low rumbling from somewhere deep inside him.

"It's all right Killer," she said edging past him, "it's only me. I have the key."

Killer stopped growling and tilted his head to one side. Pat reached out slowly and scratched behind one of his ears. His hackles dropped and he trotted beside her as she walked to where the men were wheeling John's motorbike out of the front of the tent.

"Good morning, John," she said, "I'm going for breakfast, would you like something?"

"No thanks," he replied, straightening himself and running his fingers through his hair. They stuck in some knots.

"I've some things to do and then I've to pick up Chris at ten," he continued.

"Make sure she's back here for six." Joe said, sitting astride the bike and holding the twist grips. "Good machine this."

"What did you ride?" John asked, opening one of the side panniers and taking out a helmet.

"A Suzy-Q 500." Joe replied. Pat could see he was getting lost in his memories for a second.

Yes. She could see him as a member of a biker gang. Riding with his long hair flowing behind him. Getting into trouble. Raising hell. Then she thought of Mean Jim and the others and the romantic image disappeared. 

"Will you be long?" She asked as Joe climbed slowly from the machine. "I don't want your food going cold."

"Only ten minutes." He replied, reaching behind the counter for Killer's lead. Killer sat silently, watching intently. "We can both take him for a longer walk later."

He fastened Killer's lead and walked off between the rows of stalls and rides. He waved and nodded to people he passed. He stopped for a few seconds and spoke to a woman with multicoloured hair they both looked towards her then he moved on in response to Killer's tug on his lead. . She watched his back until he disappeared from view.

"I must be going." John said climbing onto his motor bike as she headed towards the burger van. She could smell the frying onions from there. "See you later."

Putting on his crash helmet he switched on his machine kicked up the stand and roared off between the rows of stalls and rides. 

"He'll catch it if the site manager catches him."

Pat turned and looked up at Mary behind the counter of her burger and hot dog bar.

"Why?" Pat asked.

"Private vehicles are not allowed on site. Something about the health and safety regulations. What can I do for you?"

"Joe would like an egg and bacon sandwich, please." She smiled up at Mary.

"And what would you like?" Mary asked taking two eggs from her fridge and moving some part cooked strips of bacon onto the hottest part of her hotplate. They sizzled.

"I normally have cereals." Pat confessed.

"And orange juice?"

"Well, yes."

"I think we can manage that." She said, opening a cupboard beneath a row of boxed, toy cars and producing a bowl.

"I quite like a bowl of cereals myself some days." She continued, taking an individual box of corn flakes from a cupboard to one side of the serving hatch and, opening it, emptying the contents into the bowl. "Sugar?"

"Just milk please." Pat turned and watched the woman with multicoloured hair approach. "Oh, and two coffees please."

"Two sugars if it's for Joe." The woman with multicoloured hair said.

Was there a sound of bitterness in her voice? Pat thought 

"Hallo, Max." Mary said, there was real warmth in her voice.

"Hallo, Mary." Max's tone softened as she replied.

Mary turned Joe's bacon and cracked the eggs onto the hotplate. More sizzling.

"This is Joe's friend, Chris." Mary said, taking two slices of bread and spreading some yellow from a tub onto them.

"I'm, Pat." Pat said, holding out her hand. "Chris is my twin."

"I'm Max." Came the abrupt reply.

Pat had the feeling she'd upset Max in some way. She couldn't think how.

"You don't come from around here?" Pat realised it was more a statement than a question.

"Max is from Quebec, in Canada." Mary said, turning the eggs with a slice.

"That's nice." Pat said.

This Max was very difficult to talk to.

"What can I get for you, Max?" Mary asked.

"Just a coffee, please Mary." Max said, handing up a battered tin mug she'd been carrying.

Mary filled the mug and handed it down. Max took it with muttered thanks and, ignoring Pat, turned and walked back towards her stall.

"Hey Max. Come around and party tonight."

Pat turned her head to where the voice had come from.

There stood that horrible Mean Jim with his equally horrible henchman Harry and that even more horrible Lucy. They had two other, younger, men with them. If they were with them they must be horrible as well.

"Five burgers and five coffees, Mary." Jim ordered.

He placed one of his arms around Pat's waist and squeezed, tight.

"Hallo again, darling." He leered into her face.

There was a smell of stale beer on his breath.

"What do you want?" Pat snapped at him.

He almost took a step backwards in response to her reaction. He did release Pat's waist.

"Are you coming to party?"

"Get lost."

"Come on. Loosen up. Be friendly."

"She won't want us if she's fucking Joe." There was a hint of something in Lucy's voice that Pat couldn't catch.

"I wonder if John's fucked her sister yet?" Lucy continued, scratching the lips of her fanny through her jeans. All the men looked.

"Keep your language clean." Mary admonished from her caravan. "You, Jim, are getting nothing else until you've cleared your slate."

"Pay her Harry." Jim said stepping closer to Pat. "We're going to get better acquainted one day miss high and mighty."

"Here's your tray, dear." Mary said, reaching down an old metal tray with Joe's sandwich, Pat's bowl of cereals, two mugs of coffee and a glass of orange juice.

"Where's my breakfast?"

An Irish voice called from behind the caravan. The rear door opened and a thin faced man of average height and slim build climbed inside. A hand rolled cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth.

"I told you I'd bring it across when it's ready." Mary replied, writing in a book and placing the money Harry and given her into a pocket of her apron. "I've got customers to serve."

He placed his arms around Mary's waist and gave her a squeeze then he slipped a hand into the pocket of the apron and removed a twenty pounds note.

"Just some beer money." He said, quickly stuffing it into his pocket before Mary could snatch it back. "Now, where's my breakfast, woman."

Pat felt she had had enough for one morning and turned away with a thanks to Mary and walked back to Joe's stall. She was conscious of the eyes of the men, and for all she knew, Lucy, on her ass cheeks as she did. It was a relief to slip under the tent flap away from their sight and place the tray on the front counter. 

The air inside the tent suddenly smelt warm and stale. She unhooked the front flaps and folded them back to allow some fresh air to circulate then, sipping at her orange juice, watched as the fair ground around her slowly woke to the new day. People were starting to move about, the lights on stalls were being switched on despite the bright sunshine. Generators were being fired into life to allow for the maintenance of rides. People cleaning, deliveries being made. A man walked by with a heavy bag over one shoulder selling newspapers to the stallholders. She called to him and bought a 'Sun'. 

Looking down to the far end of their avenue of stalls and rides she saw Joe and Killer returning. He stopped briefly at the Fortune Tellers tent and spoke to Max. He waved when he saw her watching and hurried towards her.

"Hi." He said, unfastening Killers lead and letting him run loose behind the counter.

"Hi." Pat replied, suddenly shy.

Should she kiss him or should she wait for him to make a move? Now he'd had her would it be a case of breakfast and goodbye?

Joe leaned across, and planted his lips firmly on hers.

Picking up the sandwich he bit into it.

"Thanks." He said, yellow egg yoke running from the corner of his mouth. 

His tongue flicked out and collected it. That tongue. That tongue that had taken her places she'd had only dreamed about before. Pat could feel herself becoming wet. She munched on her cornflakes casting glances at Joe as they ate. Joe finished first and Pat handed him the newspaper. 

"I could get used to this." He said, scanning the front-page headlines then moving to the sports pages at the rear of the paper. "I have to bank yesterdays takings later then we're free until we open for business this afternoon. What would you like to do?"

"Go to bed." The words came out before Pat could stop them.

"Why? Are you tired?"

Joe placed the newspaper on the counter and, moving closer to Pat, put his arms around her waist.

"No." Pat sighed as their lips met.

Part 2

Chris opened the front door of her house at ten almost before he released the bell push. She felt strange. She could never remember having spent a whole night away from her twin before. 

"Hallo, Chris," John said, he looked as if he had slept in his clothes and his face was grubby. He held a motorcycle crash helmet and a pair of goggles in either hand. 

"Hallo, John," she replied, standing on tiptoe and kissing his cheek.

"Who is it Christine," she heard her mother call, "is it Pat?"

"No," Chris called back, "it's a friend of mine. We're going out for the day."

"Oh," her mother sounded disappointed.

"You look as if you could do with a wash," Chris remarked, picking up her shoulder bag of food, closing the door and following him down the path to where his motorbike was parked on its stand. 

"Have you seen Pat this morning?" she asked as he took the bag and stowed it inside the rear box.

"Briefly," he replied, helping to fit the helmet over her thick, light brown hair.

He looked into her face when he had finished and wished he had the courage to kiss her. 

"How was she?" Chris asked, looking at the ground then fitting her goggles.

"She looked fine."

He climbed onto the bike and held it steady whilst Chris climbed on behind him. He could feel the insides of her thighs against the outside of his ass cheeks. He looked down at her legs, resisted the temptation to touch them and started the engine.

"Where too?" He shouted over his shoulder.

"Let's go up into the hills," she pointed to the Quantock hills, purple and green in front of them.

"Okay," he said pulling away. "We need to go somewhere first."

He felt her slide forward on the seat and rest her head against his back, holding her hands against his stomach.

He was sorry when she let go as he pulled up outside 'Riders' that Mecca for motorbike owners in the South West of England. He kicked the stand down and they climbed of. Placing their helmets, goggles and his gauntlets in the side panniers they walked to the front entrance, stopping to admire the bikes on display in front of the large, pane glass windows, on the way. He didn't realise at first that she was holding his hand. He looked down at her round face with its short, turned up nose and something somersaulted inside him. 

"Why have we come here?" Chris asked.

"I want to buy you something."

"What?"

"You can't go around like that."

"Like what?" She felt offended. This was her fourth change of clothes that morning.

In the end she'd decided to wear her white jeans and her thick, yellow jumper.

"You need a jacket." 

John led the way into the accessories shop at the rear of the building and stopped at a rack of black, leather jackets.

"Now," he said looking down at the two mounds under her jumper, "let's see. This should fit."

"Have you seen the price of them?" Chris protested. "You can't buy me that. It's far too much."

"I want to."

They looked into each other's eyes then he handed her a jacket that she reluctantly tried on. It squashed her boobs when she fastened it. She yelped slightly.

"What's wrong?" He asked, concern in his voice.

"I'm still a bit sore from last night."

"Sorry." He said helping her from the jacket and searching for a larger size. "I'd forgotten."

He hadn't. He just couldn't find the words to ask her how her tit felt after it had been hit by a air-gun pellet whilst working in Crazy Joe's rifle range the evening before. It had been sore the previous evening when he'd felt it. So sore she'd taken his hand from it and placed it upon her other one.

He held open another jacket for her to try on. She turned her back on him as she threaded her arms through the sleeves. She stepped back against him as together they fastened the front zip and studs. He could smell her hair. So clean and fresh in contrast to the smell of his own clothes and body. He could feel her ass cheeks as she pushed back against his thighs.

He needed a wash and change of clothes. Most of his things were still in his Jim's caravan at the Wall of Death's caravan. He'd have to get them back later.

The girl behind the counter was looking at them. 

"You buying that?" She asked. "Oh, it's you Chris."

"Hallo Rachel." Chris replied. "I haven't seen you in months. How long have you been working here?"

"Only since they re-opened after the fire. A month or so now. How's Pat?"

"Yes. I do want to pay for this." John said, interrupting what had the signs of being a long conversation.

Chris huffed.

"This is Rachel." She made the introductions. "We went to school together. This is John."

"John?" Rachel queried examining the bank debit card John proffered for payment. "It says R J Whiting on this."

"John's my second name."

"What's your first?" Chris asked.

Both girls waited. 

"It doesn't matter. I like to be called John."

Chris tilted her head to one side as she looked up into John's face.

"Alright. It's Royston if you must know."

Rachel smiled at Chris as she swiped the card. The machine spewed out a length of paper.

"Sign here please Sir." She said, offering John a pen.

John signed whist Rachel cut the tabs from the jacket with a pair of scissors.

"Royston." Chris said as they walked back to the bike. "I like that name."

"I don't." John said watching as Chris cocked her leg over the rear seat as he held the bike. "Only my parents call me that."

He took the main road towards the coast then pulled off onto a side road in response to her tap on the shoulder.

They started to climb quickly. Through the narrow, twisting lanes with high hedgerows on either side. Past the occasional gaps with views of the levels, the coastline and in the far distance Wales.

Chris closed her eyes and clung to John as he threw the bike through the narrow, twisting corners. 

Suddenly they left the shade of the trees and emerged into bright, late summer sunshine as they breasted the hill and started to descend towards Taunton. Almost immediately they were back amongst the trees again, then they came to a narrow bridge over a stream and John turned into the car park of a pub. He switched off the engine and held the bike steady whilst Chris climbed stiffly from the rear seat. Her legs wobbled slightly as she stood on firm ground and she held John's shoulder for support until she regained her balance.

"Alright?" John asked, kicking down the bike's stand and dismounting. "I'm sorry I couldn't go any faster, it was those twisting roads."

"That was fast enough for me." Chris replied rubbing her ass cheeks to restore some circulation.

"Sorry." John apologised again. "You forget what it's like first time on a bike. You'll soon get used to it."

"I'm sure you're right." Chris said. 

"If you sold that bike you could buy a nice, second hand car." She continued, teasingly.

John looked shocked. Sell his bike?

A middle-aged couple was coming out of the Churchyard a little up the hill. The women carried a wicker basket and the man a pair of garden shears.

"Let's ask them where a good place to picnic is." Chris suggested and, without waiting for John's response, approached them.

"Excuse me." She said, the woman looked familiar. "I was wondering if you could tell me of a good spot to have a picnic."

The couple looked at each other then at Chris and John.

"If you do not mind a little walk." The woman said. "Take the bridle path the far side of the bridge and follow it up. Fifteen minutes and you will be above the trees. There are lovely views from up there. And it's so peaceful. Hardly anybody goes up there now. Do they, Paul?"




Travelling Folk Series Pt. 02



"I don't know. I don't." The man, obviously named Paul, replied.

He was good looking, Chris thought. He had a little grey hair around the temples and little creases in the skin around his eyes. Eyes that seemed to twinkle, especially when he looked at the women. Chris was certain she'd seen the woman before.

"Don't mind him." The woman said taking his arm. "He's always grumpy when we tend his families graves."

"I'm not." Paul protested.

"Yes you are. Now be told."

"Yes, Miss." Paul said resignedly. "Bloody school teachers." He muttered under his breath.

"Bloody Head School teachers." The woman corrected. The woman looked long and hard at Chris.

"Well, we won't hold you up." John said, fearing a domestic incident was brewing between the couple. "Thank you very much."

"A pleasure." Paul said, leading the woman across the road and up a narrow lane.

As they watched, his hand squeezed one of the woman's ass cheeks.

"Paul." The woman said pushing his hand away then sliding her arm around his waist. "We haven't time for that."

"I'm sure we could squeeze it in." Paul replied placing his own arm around the woman's back and resting his hand on her hip.

They didn't catch the women's reply but they saw her tilt her head to rest on Paul's shoulder.

"That's sweet." Chris remarked as then went back to the bike and collected her bag and stowed the helmets and goggles. "Come on, let's go."

Part 3

Pat looked up at Joe's face as he thrust in and out of her. He looked so serious, then he noticed Pat's gaze and his features relaxed into a smile. A smile that touched his eyes. Pat squeezed his cock with her fanny. Joe slowed his movements, breathing deeply as he did.

"That's good." He gasped.

Pat lifted her hips from the bed and squeezed again finding muscles she hadn't been aware she'd possessed until then.

A low groan escaped from Joe's lips and he began moving faster. Pat wrapped her arms around Joe's back and pulled herself up from the bed, her breasts squashing flat against his chest. Her breath caught in the back of her throat. Every muscle in her body seemed to go into spasm as her pleasure peaked. She rode the top of the wave for what seemed like an eternity then, feeling Joe's cock jerking inside her, relaxed back onto the bed.

She felt warm, relaxed and content. Joe had stopped moving but remained above her, his cock inside her, looking down into her eyes.

"Yes." He smiled. "I could get used to this."

Pat moaned her disappointment as Joe pulled his cock out of her and stood up.

She watched him dress. Lying on the bed as he'd left her. Knees bent, thighs apart, her fanny gaping wide open for all the world to see. Well, Joe anyway.

He looked down at her then sat by her side on the bed. He ran a finger along the outer lips of her fanny then pushed it inside her. Her ass cheeks tightened as she arched her back. Joe worked his finger in and out. Pat closed her eyes and smiled.

"Happy?" He asked, sliding a second finger into her.

"Oh." Pat's hips jerked slightly. Then she gasped. "Yes."

Joe spread her lips wide with the fingers of his other hand and looked down at the moist, pink flesh he'd exposed. A small pool of his cum was gathering at the base of her hole and starting to dribble out so he pushed it back up inside her with a fingertip.

Pat opened her eyes and lifted her head.

"You were leaking." Joe explained.

Pat smiled and lay back as Joe turned his attentions to her clit. First pulling back its little hood he rubbed around it's side and base before applying pressure directly to the pale pink pea.

Pat moaned and lifted her hips from the bed describing little circles in the air. Joe followed her with his finger in contact with her clit.

Pat gasped as Joe's finger moved faster. She held her breath as the pressure built inside her then threw herself to one side, closing her legs tight, as it peaked.

She sobbed, gasping for breath.

"Are you alright?" Joe asked, concern in his voice.

"Of course." Pat said and turning sat up and kissed him. "That was wonderful."

With her arms around his neck she looked into his eyes.

"I've never had, felt, anything like that before." She kissed him again.

Joe disentangled her arms, kissed her on the forehead and stood up.

"Must go to the bank." He said opening a drawer and removing a metal cash box.

Opening it he removed a wad of notes and counted out twenty-five pounds.

"Here, this is yours." He said, handing it to Pat.

"You don't have to pay me."

"It's what we agreed and you've earned it."

They both smiled.

"Come on." Joe held out his hand to her. "Get dressed."

Leaving Killer on guard inside the rifle range Pat held Joe's hand as they walked through the Fair ground, past the office block where she worked and into the town centre.

They stopped briefly at a branch of the bank where Joe held his accounts and he deposited over three hundred pounds. She hadn't realised they had taken that much. She said as much to Joe as they left.

"No better then average." He replied. "It's costing a fifty a day for site rent so there isn't a lot of profit when you allow for pellets, wear and tear on the weapons, helpers wages and the cost of prizes."

"Not many people won."

"That was a bonus."

"We'll have to put on a better show from them tonight."

"I don't want them looking at you." Joe said quietly. "Not like last night."

"It's alright." Pat squeezed his hand. "We didn't mind, really."

They continued down the street hand in hand, stopping to gaze in the shop windows. 

"You'll need a proper jacket." Joe said suddenly. "There is a place called Riders around here somewhere."

"I know it." Pat nodded. "It's just over the bridge."

"Far?"

"A five minute walk, no more. But I've got a coat at home."

"What's it like?"

"It's an Anorak."

"What colour?"

She hesitated. 

"Pink."

"You go outside in it?"

"There's nothing wrong with it." Pat huffed. "Chris has got one."

"That doesn't surprise me."

They crossed the bridge in silence and turned left onto Wylds road. Reaching 'Riders' Joe stopped to study the bikes on display then walked into the shop.

"Pat." Rachel called out from behind the counter.

"Hallo Rachel." Pat called back and walking up to her gave her a peck on the cheek.

"I don't see either of you for ages then both of you in one day. Why aren't you together anyway?"

"We must be growing apart." They must be, she thought, she couldn't remember ever being this long apart from her.

"About bloody time too. You'll never know what it was like being in the same class Pat and Chris at school." Rachel said to Joe as her eyes travelled up and down his body. "Hallo."

"Hallo." Joe replied turning away and looking at the rack of black leather jackets.

"That's Joe." Pat said as if that explained everything.

Rachel looked at her and raised an eyebrow. Pat could feel her face reddening. She turned her head away.

"What did Chris want?" She asked the base of the counter.

"She had a young man with her."

Pat thought Rachel placed a little too much emphasis on the young.

"Yes, John."

"That's right. He said he liked to be called that."

"What do you mean? That's his name."

"Not his first."

"What is it?" Joe said, his head appearing from behind the rack of jackets.

"He doesn't like people to use it."

"Come on." Pat said.

"Alright." Rachel looked around quickly as if she were about to disclose something that might effect life on Earth as they knew it and wanted to check that no unauthorised person could hear.

"It's Royston." She said, hurriedly.

She stepped back with a 'there, I've told you' look upon her face.

"Royston." Joe guffawed.

"Don't." Pat protested. "I think it's a nice name."

"Royston." Joe shook his head and smiled.

"Well I don't think it's funny and anyway it's not his fault, his parents must have given it to him."

"Somebody must of." Joe said handing Pat a jacket to try on. "It's not a name you'd chose for yourself."

Rachel examined the label on the sleeve as Pat put the jacket on.

"That's the right size."

"How do you know?" Joe asked, helping Pat fasten the jacket over her breasts.

"It's the same size as the one that Royston bought for Chris this morning."

"Oh, Chris has got one as well?" Pat said examining herself in a long mirror on the wall.

"I've sold three this morning." Rachel said entering a figure into the till. "A hard looking girl came in with four rough looking men."

"I think I know who they are." Pat said watching Joe count out a number of twenty pound notes from the roll he carried in the breast pocket of his shirt. "Are you sure? It's very expensive."

"I want you to have it."

Pat stood on tiptoe and kissed Joe's cheek.

Rachel handed Joe a receipt for his money and cut the tabs from Pat's jacket with a pair of scissors.

"Do you want it wrapped?" Rachel asked.

"No thanks." Pat replied, linking arms with Joe. "I'll wear it. Bye."

Outside Joe looked again at the rows of shining new machines.

"Why don't you have a motor bike?" Pat asked.

"I do." Joe replied. "It's at my parents cottage on the coast. I normally spend a few months there during the worst of the winter and any time I have between sites. I'm going there for a few days on Sunday."

"I'd like to see that." Pat turned her head away unsure of the reaction her remark would bring.

"Would you?" Joe asked quietly. "What about your job here?"

Pat took Joe's hand and they left the bikes and started walking back towards the centre of the town.

"It's not much of a job."

"It can be a hard life on the road. I make a living but I won't die rich."

"I don't eat very much and I take up very little room."

Joe walked on in silence. What if she insisted on coming with him when he left? He'd enjoyed her but he wasn't looking for a long or even medium term relationship. But then, he could have had Max if it was just a fuck he wanted. No. When he'd first kissed her the previous evening he'd felt something he'd never felt before. The nearest had been when he and Mike had ridden their bikes from Birmingham to Bristol. They had covered the eighty-two miles in fifty-five minutes. They'd had the police of three counties looking for them. They still were, for all he knew.

Mike.

He missed him.

It was six years ago now. That long? Yes, it must be. He should have watched out for Lucy better. She had been his best friend's girl. Lucy had been either drunk or high ever since. Most of that time with her legs open for anyone who'd give her a joint or buy her a drink. He hadn't wanted the responsibility for another then and he wasn't sure he wanted it now.

"Do you have Chris's pay on you?" Pat suddenly asked.

They'd stopped and she was looking into the window of a Jewellers shop. 

Part 4

John slung the strap of the bag over one shoulder as they crossed over the stream and walked up the bridle path.

For fifty yards a high wall ran along the far side of the stream. Where it stopped somebody had built a footbridge across. They stopped and looked. 

A lawn sloped up through a series of terraces to a delightful house. The large French windows in one half were open and they could see the couple from the church in an embrace. Paul pulled his lips from the woman's, glanced in their direction and, leading the woman by the hand, disappeared from view.

"It must be nice to be that much in love when your that age." Chris commented.

"Ugh." John grunted.

He thought it was a bit stomach churning.

They walked on. Trees and hedges on one side and the stream on the other. Shortly the trees started to thin and they came to a clearing. Alone, in the middle of it stood an old oak tree. It looked lob sided with two of it's main branches lying on the ground near the base of it's trunk. A trunk hollow with age.

They walked up to it. Everywhere there were initials carved into the bark. 

Chris traced the outline of one, black with age.

"A W." She said. "Nineteen hundred and three."

"P W." John said, looking at what appeared to be a list of initials on the far side of the tree. "Nineteen sixty four. Then J F no the F's crossed through and a W instead. And they've carved a heart around them."

"What do you think. J F marries P W." Chris said joining John to study the engravings. "They could have been that couple down there. I'm sure I've seen her before. W?"

"I can't see them carving their names on trees." 

"We'll never know." Chris looked around quickly. "Do you have a knife?"

"Yes." John said reaching into a side pocket of his jacket and producing a bright red Swiss Army knife. "I have this."

He opened out the blade and quickly cut his initials R J W into the tree bark. 

"And mine." Chris prompted.

"I don't know your surname." John said, cutting the numbers one, nine, nine, nine.

"It's 'A'." Chris said, looking about them. "'A' for Adam's"

"Christine Adams." John said, swirling the words around his mouth as if tasting them.

"Christine Rebecca Ann Adams."

"What's Pat's?"

"Patricia Angela." 

"You've got three names."

"I was first."

"Oh." John didn't understand so continued carving until he'd finished the last 'A' in Chris's set.

"Don't carve Pat's." Chris placed her hand on his arm as he lifted the blade again. "She's not her. It would be unlucky."

"Alright." John said stepping back and, folding the blade away placed the knife in his pocket.

They continued up the hill, through an area of gorse and bracken until they reached the summit. Here the soil was thin and such grass as there was had been cropped short by generations of rabbits.

"It is beautiful up here." Chris said, standing on a bare rock and looking back the way they'd came.

"Here's a good spot." John called from a small outcrop of rock a short distance away.

He'd already opened the bag and was removing the contents. Two plastic containers, two cans of Coke and a part used roll of kitchen towel.

Chris came and sat down by his side on the rock.

"I'll do that," she said, taking the plastic containers from him, "I know what's in them."

John leaned back against the rock and watched as she fussed over the contents of the containers. He watched her hands as they moved. She had a look of concentration on her face. Her pretty face with the slightly turned nose framed with light brown curly hair. She suddenly looked worried. 

"I hope you like it." She said offering John some kitchen towel and a sandwich. "They're Ham and mustard and lettuce and tomato."

"They look great." He replied, taking one and biting into it. "Taste good too."

She offered him a second sandwich when he'd finished the first.

Taking it, he asked.

"Aren't you eating."

"Not at the moment. I'm not hungry." Chris replied.

She didn't know whether she was or not. Something was turning summersaults inside her each time she looked at him. She longed to reach out and touch him. Just to hold his hand. Have him hold her. She pulled the ring-pull on one of the cans of Coke, was splashed by the contents as they fizzed out, then offered it to John when it had settled.

He smiled his thanks and took a sip.

"There's Coke on your face." He observed, reaching into his pocket for his handkerchief. 

They both looked down at it and John put it back. He'd seen cleaner oily rags. He leaned forward and used his piece of kitchen towel instead. Chris remained still as he wiped her forehead, her cheeks and down the bridge of her nose. His touch was so light it tickled. She sniffed.

"That's better." John said when he'd finished.

Chris offered him another sandwich. 

"Not just yet." He said, "maybe later."

Chris offered the second container. Inside were two apples and some pieces of fruitcake.

"That smells nice." He said taking a piece of cake.

"I made it this morning." Chris admitted.

"Yourself?"

"Of course. I always do my own baking."

"You have hidden talents." John bit into his slice of cake. "Hmm. This is good. I'll get fat if you keep feeding me like this."

Chris decided that she wouldn't mind that.

John finished eating and Chris packed the food away into her bag.

"What shall we do now?" John asked, stretching.

"Can we stay here for a while?" Chris asked in return. "It's nice here."

Leaning back against the rock with her legs straight in front of her and her hands resting on her thighs Chris closed her eyes, feeling the sun warm on her face. 

Something was touching her finger. Half opening her eyes she looked down. John's hand was lying on top his own thigh and the little finger was touching her own. It touched it briefly then moved away. It came back again, longer this time, then it was gone. She followed it with her own finger and they touched in the gap between their legs.

Chris turned her head to John's and looked into his eyes. They seemed so big. She blinked as they moved towards her then closed her own as he placed his lips against hers. They seemed to mould themselves together. Feeling each other. She felt his lips open and his tongue flick against hers. She allowed hers to part and his tongue to slide between them into her mouth. It tasted sweet after her cake. She touched the tip of his tongue with her own. They fenced for a few seconds then he pulled his head away. She sighed with disappointment and opened her eyes. John was looking down at the front of her leather jacket. She followed his gaze. His hand was opening the front flap and lifting the zipper lock. He leaned his head on top of hers as his fingers slowly drew the zip down the front of the jacket. The two halves of the jacket fell away as he reached the bottom. His hand was moving under her jumper. She jumped slightly as he touched her skin. A low moan escaped from her lips.

"Are you alright?" Joe asked, there was concern in his voice.

What should she say? Should she let him go a little further? It did feel nice but it was only the second day. She couldn't let him go too far. He'd have no respect for her. But it did feel nice and it had been nine months since somebody else had touched her if she discounted the thirty seconds he'd held her breast for the previous evening.

Perhaps she could let him go a little further. 

"Ow." She said as he tried to squeeze his hand inside the cup of her bra and feel her breast.

"I'm sorry." He stammered, pulling his hand away.

Chris thought for a moment that he was going to stop completely. She didn't want that to happen. She turned her head and kissed him on the lips.

"It's alright." She breathed, pulling her mouth from his. "You were a little rough, that's all."

She almost laughed out loud he looked so crestfallen.

"Here." She said, sitting up and taking off her jacket.

"Help me undo this." She continued turning her back to him and lifting up the back of her jumper so he could see the fastenings of her bra. 

She took a sharp breath as he pulled and fumbled with the catch until he finally released her breasts. She should have done it herself, she thought, but that would have been too forward.

John placed one arm around her shoulders as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Taking the wrist of his free hand in one of her hands she lifted the front of her jumper and placed his hand upon her belly. She released him and let her hand fall away to rest on his thigh. His hand moved at last, moving up, lifting her bra and settling around her uninjured breast. His fingers moved slowly, gently as if examining a delicate, precious object.

That felt nice, she thought, worming her body against him. He kissed her forehead. That was nice as well. She could feel her nipple growing hard against the palm of his hand and, closing her eyes' let herself drift away. She felt so safe there with him. They were alone in the world. She sighed deeply.




Travelling Folk Series Pt. 02



"Are you alright?"

She did wish he wouldn't keep asking her that. She didn't want to speak. She grunted her reply and allowed her hand to move on his thigh. She heard his breathing suddenly change. His fingers squeezed her breast tighter.

"Don't." She whispered. "Gently."

She felt his grip loosen and his fingers return to the gentle massaging movements of before.

Yes she could stay like this forever.

She sighed contentedly.

Suddenly his fingers released her breast and moved down to the waistband of her jeans. His fingers fumbled with the button then the zip. No. She reached down and held his wrist. It was too soon. 

"Don't." She said turning her head and looking at him. "Not yet."

He started to move his hand back beneath her jumper but the spell had been broken.

"Let's go." Chris said, fastening her jeans and standing up. 

"I'm sorry." She continued, reaching behind her back and fastening her bra while John stood up and slung the bag over his shoulder. "We haven't known each other twenty four hours yet."

"I thought you were enjoying it." John said, looking at the ground, into the air, anywhere but at Chris.

"Oh. I was." Chris admitted and stepped up to him and kissed him. "It's just that it's a bit too much too soon."

"Pat only met Joe yesterday." John complained.

"It just goes to show we aren't completely alike."

Putting on her jacket Chris took John's hand and led the way down the hill. They stopped and looked across the small bridge towards the house of Paul and the woman. The curtains had been drawn in one of the upstairs rooms. As they watched the woman pulled them apart and opened a window. There was something familiar about the woman.

Chris squeezed John's hand. He'd taken it quite well all in all. She thought. Perhaps it was just the suddenness of his movement towards her jeans that had made her stop him. Some men could have reacted violently. Forced her to do something. Let them have their way. No. John had behaved very well. She just hoped she hadn't put him off. He hadn't said a word all way down.

They walked on. Over the road bridge and back to the Pub car park. John opened the side panniers and took out their helmets. 

"What's wrong?" Chris asked. John's silence was starting to annoy her.

"Nothing." John replied, handing her a helmet.

Perhaps he wasn't taking it that well after all. Well, he shouldn't expect a girl to drop her knickers on a first date. However much she may have wanted to.

Fastening his helmet John climbed onto his bike. Chris climbed onto the seat behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She felt him stiffen and removed them holding onto the handgrips situated on the frame behind her ass cheeks instead.

John pulled away and almost bounced Chris from the rear of the machine as he took the bridge at speed. He roared up the hill. Despite herself, Chris released the handgrips and clung tightly around John's waist with her eyes tightly closed. 

They sped up the hill. John throwing the bike from side to side as they took each twisting turn in the road. Suddenly they were airborne as they breasted the crown of the hill. Chris screamed out loud as she felt as if her stomach had left her body.

John must have heard for he quickly throttled back, kicked the engine into second and slowed through two corners before applying the brakes.

"Are you alright?" He shouted over his shoulder.

"Fine." Chris wheezed. Coughed to clear her throat then shouted. "Fine."

"I thought I heard you say something back there." 

John pulled into a lay-by and kicking down the stand climbed from the machine and helped Chris off.

"I'm sorry." He said. "Did I frighten you?"

"A bit." Chris gulped.

Hold me. She wanted to scream at him. Hold me.

She stepped closer to him. Her legs went wobbly and she stumbled. John reached out and caught her, then held her, then tried to kiss her, their helmets clanged together.

They both took off their helmets and John lowered his lips to hers. The desperate sense of urgency they had both felt a moment before had gone and this kiss was long and slow and deep. John's hand moved slowly down the back of Chris' jacket until it reached her jeans. His fingers closed around one of her ass cheeks, one finger following the seam of her jeans as it disappeared between her legs.

Chris pulled her mouth from his as his finger started prodding at the lips of her pussy through her jeans and looked up at him. His hand had frozen still as if he were a naughty boy caught with his hand in the biscuit barrel. 

"Take me home." She said. 

"Won't your Mother be there?"

"No. She goes and visits with her mother in the afternoons. She won't be back until five."

John drove as if he had a cargo of fifty eggs loose in a brown paper bag.

Two police cars and an Ambulance were parked outside the Jewellers in the High Street as they passed. A woman, talking to a policeman pointed to them.

John drove on oblivious to all but the feeling of Chris' breasts pressed against his back and the feel of the insides of her thighs as they clamp tight around the outside of his. His prick throbbed hard in anticipation.

He could hear a sound behind him. It was a police siren. He looked down at his speedometer. He was legal. He glanced to his right and saw a police car keeping pace with him. A quick glance at the occupants and he was pulling into the side of the road. The police car pulled up in front.

Kicking down the stand he and Chris had both dismounted by the time the policemen and the woman from outside the shop climbed from their vehicle. John reached inside his jacket pocket for his vehicles documents and insurance and his driving licence.

"What's wrong, Officer." He said, offering the documents to the nearest constable.

He took them and examined them. Then turned away and spoke into the handset of his radio.

"That's them." The woman was saying to the other Constable. "I'd recognise her anywhere."

Chris stepped close to John and he automatically placed his arm around her shoulders.

"Would you mind accompanying us to the Police Station?" The second Constable said as the sound of the siren of a second police car could be heard approaching.

Part 5

"Something's wrong." Pat said suddenly, pulling Joe's fingers from her breast.

"What is it?" Joe asked.

"I don't know. Something."

"It'll pass." Joe said, replacing his hand inside her blouse.

"No." Pat snapped. "It's Chris. I'm sorry. There is something wrong."

She looked at Joe and kissed his cheek.

"It's not you." She continued. She could feel her nipple still throbbing. "No, it's definitely not you."

"What do you want to do?" Joe said, tucking in his shirt as he stood up from the narrow bed in his camper. "I want to open in an hour. Let's go and talk to Mary. She normally knows what's going on."

Pat stood up and, buttoning her blouse and, putting on her leather jacket, followed Joe from the camper.

Killer raised his head then lowered it again in response to Joe's. "Down boy."

At the Burger Bar Joe ordered two coffees and asked Mary if she'd heard anything.

"There was some trouble down town at lunch time." Mary replied. She moved slowly, as if she was very tired. "A robbery at the jewellers. The owner was badly injured. He's in hospital. The police have caught somebody."

"Are you alright?" Joe asked taking the coffees she handed down to him. 

"I'll be alright." Mary smiled weakly. "Kelly will take over soon and I can have a rest."

"Where's that daughter of yours." There was concern in Joe's voice. "Why isn't she here helping you?"

"She has her own family now. She can't be here every day."

"That bloody Kelly could."

"You're not to talk bad of him." Mary roused herself to defend her man.

"He'll be pissed somewhere or in the bookmakers."

"You leave him alone, Joe." 

Pat thought Mary was about to cry.

"Come on, Joe." She said. "Leave her alone. You're upsetting her."

Joe stiffened for a second and looked at Pat.

She thought for a moment he was going to shout at her, or worse.

"Come on then." He said. "We'll walk around to the Police Station and see what's happening."

Turning to Mary he said. "Close up for a couple of hours, get some rest."

"It's starting to get busy, Joe. I can't do that."

"If I see Kelly I'll send him back."

"I'll be alright, Joe."

Taking Pat's hand Joe walked quickly from the fair ground, so quickly that she had to almost jog to keep up. There were eight pubs between the fairground and the Police Station. They found Kelly in the seventh.

He was seated on a stool in the corner of the public bar staring at his glass. 

"Ah, Joe." He said when he saw them approaching. "And the lovely Miss. I don't know your name. What do you want to drink?"

"Nothing." Joe replied for them both. "Mary needs your help back at the Burger bar."

"She'll be alright." Kelly lifted his beer glass to his lips and drained it. "Another pint, Landlord, if you please."

"I think you have had enough." Joe said releasing Pat's hand and stepping closer to Kelly.

"That's for me to know." Kelly slurred. "Landlord?"

The barman, a youth barely out of his teens took Kelly's glass and refilled it from the pump.

"One pound ninety please." He said, placing the glass in front of Kelly and, taking the two pounds coin offered in payment, retreated to the far end of the bar.

"Oi." Kelly called after him. "Where's my change?"

The barman rang the sale through a till and returned with a ten pence piece.

"Are you going back to help Mary?" Joe asked.

"Why don't you fuck off and leave me alone." Kelly snapped.

For a moment Pat thought they were going to fight and held Joe's arm. She could feel the tenseness in him.

"Come away Joe." She urged. "Please."

Joe took a step backwards and looked at her. His whole frame seemed to relax. He smiled.

"Take care of Mary, Kelly. Do you hear?"

"I hear. Leave me alone."

Kelly had turned to face the bottles and optics on the wall behind the bar.

Pat pulled gently on Joe's arm, steering him from the bar and out, onto the pavement.

"Let's go to the Police Station." She said, taking his hand.

They walked on. Past the public swimming baths and magistrates court until they came to the entrance of the Police Station.

"Wait a minute." Joe said pointing to the car park at the side of the building. "That's John's bike."

Pat looked in the direction his finger pointed. It could have been John's bike. She didn't know one make from another but it certainly had boxes on the side and back like John's had.

The hurried up the steps and inside the building and stopped at the glass fronted counter. A man in a suit was talking to an old woman.

They saw the woman place her hand against her mouth and heard her gasp.

"How did she get out?"

The man in the suit looked at them, especially at Pat.

"Excuse me." Pat said to the uniformed Constable behind the counter. "We're looking for the owner of that Motorbike in your car-park and my sister. Can you help us, please."

The man in the suit opened a door in the wall to the side of the counter.

"Would you mind stepping this way for a moment, please?" He asked. "My name is Detective Sergeant Thompson."

They followed the Detective into an empty interview room and sat down, when invited to, at a table.

"What's going on?" Joe asked after the man had written their names in his notebook.

"We'll only keep you a moment." He said, standing aside as an uniformed Constable entered the room and stood beside the door. "Mrs Walker." He called, stepping into the corridor and closing the door behind him.

They could hear other voices in the corridor outside and the door opened and Sergeant Thompson entered with the old lady.

"Now Mrs Walker have you ever seen either of these two persons before."

Mrs Walker looked at Joe then stared at Pat.

"But." She stuttered. "She was with the other man."

"It's alright, Mrs Walker." The Sergeant said comfortingly. Then looking to Pat and Joe asked. "Would you mind telling me what you were doing around lunch time today?"

"We'd been to Riders," said Pat, "then we stopped to look in the Jewellers for a birthday present for my Mother, then we went to my house for a shower and I changed my clothes."

"At what time were you in the Jewellers?"

"About twelve fifteen, I would think." Joe said. "Now what's going on?"

"Constable." The Sergeant said turning to the officer by the door. "Will you please take Mrs Walker back to the front waiting room and see if the Inspectors free." 

"He's with Mr and Mrs Wagstaffe, with the other two."

"Ask him to come in here please when he's finished."

"Will you tell us what's going on?" Joe asked, angrily.

The Sergeant sat down on the opposite side of the table.

"At approximately twelve forty five some customers entered the Jewellers and found Mr Jones, the owner, lying on the floor with the till emptied and a number of items missing. We have a witness to the fact that shortly before this time you were in the shop."

"That's right." Pat confirmed. "We were. We've already told you this."

The Sergeant stopped for a few seconds then continued.

"Did you buy anything in the shop?"

"No."

Just then there was a knock at the door and a tall, thin man with a moustache entered. Behind him, in the corridor they could see Chris and John and another couple.

"Pat." Chris called. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you."

"This is Mrs Wagstaffe. You remember. She was a teacher at our primary school."

"Hello Pat." The woman known as Mrs Wagstaffe said from the doorway. "It's been a long time."

She looked from one to the other.

"I didn't recognise Chris this lunch time in our village. I don't think I'd ever seen her on her own before."

"Well you may go now." The tall, thin man with the moustache said to Chris and John. "We are very sorry to have detained you. My Sergeant will see you out."

"Now." He continued, turning to Pat and Joe. "Would you mind helping us with our inquiries."

Part 6

Chris and John climbed onto the motor bike and headed back to the fair ground after saying goodbye and thanking the Wagstaffe's. Slowly weaving in and out of the crowds of people John pulled up outside Joe's camper. Killer stood up. Hackles raised.

"Down Killer." John said in a deep voice. "You know who I am."

"What should we do?" Chris asked.

"Open the stall for Joe." John replied.

"We haven't got any money for change and my costume has a hole in it."

"I'm sure one of the other stall holders will help out with a float and you don't have to wear a costume."

"They worked well, last night."

"Where's Pat's costume?"

"It'll be inside there." Chris nodded towards the camper.

"Well. In you go."

"You've got to tell him you have the key."

"Go on then. I'll be right behind you."

"We'll go together." Chris said reaching out and taking John's hand.

Killer growled and stood his ground.

"It's alright, Killer." Chris said as she reached for the door clasp. "I have the key."

Killer sat back on his haunches. She pulled at the clasp and the door opened.

"I think he could do with going for a walk." Chris said, handing John a dog's lead from off the top of the small set of drawers when they'd climbed inside. "Just while I get changed."

"Alright." John said doubtfully, taking the offered lead. "I'll risk it. I could do with getting my things from Jim's caravan.

When John had left Chris picked up pat's costume from where it lay on top the fitted table and held the crutch to her nose. She could smell her sister. It was a comforting smell. Making sure all of the curtains were pulled tightly closed she quickly stripped and stepped into the knicker section of the red, white and blue one-piece outfit. She struggled with the zip then looked at herself in the long mirror on the back of the closet door. She gave a twirl, watching as the short skirt flared outwards flashing the white of her knickers.

She ran her fingers through her thick curly hair and regretted not having a lipstick with her. Never mind. She couldn't have everything. There was a knock on the door. Opening it she saw Joe and Chris together with the Inspector, the Sergeant and two Constables.

"Hallo Miss." The Inspector said. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting changed." Chris replied. "We were going to open Joe's stall for him tonight."

"Thanks." Joe said. "Where's Killer."

"John's taken him for a walk."

"He's a good kid."

"Right, Sir." The Inspector said, looking at Joe. "You said you do not mind us looking around."

"Help yourself."

"Where will your friend have gone with the dog?" The Sergeant asked Chris as she stepped down from the Camper and hugged Pat.

"Down by the Canal then he was going to the wall of death Caravan to collect his belongings."

The two Constables entered the Camper. Chris saw one pick up her bra and knickers. For a moment she thought he was going to hold them to his nose as she had Pat's costume but all he did was place them neatly on top of her jeans and jumper.

He didn't notice the Sergeant leave but she heard his return accompanied by John and a snarling Killer.

"Down boy." Joe snapped. Killer stopped snarling but his hackles remained raised.

Pat reached down and rubbed his ears.

The Inspector raised an eyebrow in query to the Sergeant.

"Found him at the Wall of Death Caravan." The Sergeant reported. "Five others inside the vehicle. One was a naked woman. She didn't even try to hide her body when she saw us. She was, however, wearing a very nice necklace. When I asked her where she got it from she replied the jewellers, yesterday lunchtime. Without prompting she confirmed that they saw Mr Watson and Miss Adams leave the shop before they entered. She also has a Black Leather jacket of the same type owned by these two young ladies. There was a big man; name of Harry, who produced a receipt from the Jeweller's dated twelve twenty five. When they left they said they saw a red Jaguar pull up and two well dressed men, in suits, enter the shop."

"You are not planning on leaving town during the next few days are you? Mr Watson."

"You'll find me here until Sunday afternoon." Joe replied.

The two Constables climbed from the Camper.

"Nothing. Sir." One said to the Inspector.

"Very well." The Inspector said then turned to Joe and Pat. "I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you this afternoon but, as I am sure you understand, we must follow all lines of inquiries. Lead on Sergeant. I think we had best visit the Wall of Death."

Part 7

Pat took Chris' costume to Mary, in the Burger bar and served for her while she took a needle and thread to the hole in the side where the air rifle pellet had struck the evening before.

Mary still didn't look well.

She did say she'd had an hour off that afternoon when Max, the fortune-teller, had relieved her. She'd be all right, she assured Pat. Kelly would be back any minute.

Pat returned to the rifle range and told them what Mary had said to her.

"Max is alright." Joe remarked when he heard that she'd been helping out.

'Hmm'. Pat thought as she changed into what had been Chris' costume in the Camper.

Before leaving the camper she ran her fingers between the cheeks of her ass forcing the material of her knickers up between them. Joe wanted to give the customers a treat, after all.

He joined Chris behind the counter.

Lucy came up and spoke to John.

"Jim and Harry could be at the station for a while yet. He want's you to open up and run the Wall for him." She said. Then added. "Please."

John looked at Chris then at Joe.

"We do help each other out."

"Alright." John said, picking up his leather Jacket. "I'll do it. It doesn't mean I'm back, working full time."




Travelling Folk Series Pt. 02



"Jim understands."

"See you later Chris." John said and, slipping under the counter, walked beside Lucy towards the Wall of Death.

"Don't go too high." Chris called after him.

John looked embarrassed. Lucy linked her arm through his and looked back over her shoulder at Chris. 

Why didn't he push her away? Chris thought. Ah. He did.

They disappeared from view behind the crowd gathered in front of the Burger bar. She could smell the frying onions. Her stomach growled. She was hungry.

"Roll up. Roll up." She heard Joe call. "Win a kiss from the pretty girls."

Business was slow at first then picked up as darkness began to fall and the adults, who worked during the daytime, came to the fair.

"You hungry?" Pat called to her from her position next to Joe.

"Starving." She called back.

"I'm going to get some Burgers and Coffees. Be back in ten minutes." 

Chris watched Joe's place his hand on Pat's ass cheek as she ducked under the counter flap. Pat was smiling when she stood up on the far side.

Strange what a difference a day can make. Chris thought to herself as she bent from the waist to give the young men a quick sight of her knickers as she collected some pellets for the air rifles from the bucket on the lower shelf of prizes.

"Miss Adams? Is that you?"

Oh fuck. She almost thought.

She stood upright, automatically pulling her knickers from the crack between her ass cheeks.

"Yes it is, Mr Petigrew." She replied, to the owner of the Insurance agency where she worked.

"I didn't believe it when they said that you had taken time from work to parade half naked in front of strangers. That's not what I expect from my staff. I don't care that you are not in the office. Everything you do in public reflects upon my company. I also hear you had to go to the Police Station today."

"I'm sorry. Mr Petigrew." She stammered eyes on the ground. No, she wasn't sorry. "I think I'll do as I please when I'm not in the office, if you don't mind."

There was a smattering of a round of applause at this.

"Miss Adams." Petigrew said, looking around and colouring rapidly. "If you value your position in my Company."

"Sod your company."

"I think you had better visit personnel in the morning and collect your P45."

"A pleasure."

A rumble went up from the crowd around him. Petigrew looked around him and stormed off. A cheer went up.

"What's going on?" Joe asked, waiting for some firers to finish at his end of the range before striding up to Chris.

"That was my Boss." Chris sniffed, she wanted Pat. No, she wanted John. "I've been fired."

"What's wrong?" Pat asked, returning from the Burger bar accompanied by John, who carried a cardboard box containing their food and drinks.

"What's wrong?" He echoed.

"My boss just fired me."

"Mr Petigrew?" Pat's asked, looking about her. "Was he here?"

"Yes." Chris sniffed. "I've lost my job."

"Come here." John said, stopping under the counter flap and holding out his arms to her.

Chris ran to him, finding security and comfort in his arms. 

"I've lost my job." She sobbed into his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"There. There." He murmured. "Jim and Harry are back. They found the Jag and the two men outside Bristol."

"Take me away. Please." Chris lifted her tear stained face to John. "Please."

"Go on." Pat urged gently from one side.

John guided Chris through the back of the stall to where his bike was parked next to Joe's Camper. Killer raised his head and growled. 

"I've got the key." Chris told him as she opened the door to the camper. The first drops of rain were starting to fall. "It always rains at Bridgwater Fair." She forced a smile.

John fumbled for the switch on the ceiling light.

Chris collected her clothes from the table and laid them out on the bed. 

"Turn the light off, please." She said, reaching for the zip of her costume. "I don't want everybody to see me."

"There's only me here." John said, moving closer and placing his hands on her shoulder straps.

Chris remained still as he slipped the straps from off her shoulders and let the costume fall to the ground. He looked down at her firm high breasts, her flat stomach and the rise of her pubic mound.

He pulled her to him and kissed her. She shivered as her naked skin touched the cold, black leather of his jacket. His tongue pushed against her lips and she opened her mouth. She met it with her own tongue. Fencing, then prodding then allowing him to explore her.

His hands went to her ass cheeks. Feeling them, squeezing them, pulling them apart then squashing them together. She could feel his prick, hard inside his jeans, pushing into her belly.

Pulling her mouth from his she said. "Not here. Let's go back to where we had lunch."

"It's raining out there." John reminded her, gently.

"Not for long. There's a full moon tonight. I bet it's lovely up in the hills."

"Where we had lunch?"

"Please. You don't mind. Do you?"

Chris reached out and placed her fingertips on his prick, tracing its outline through his jeans.

John cleared his throat.

"I don't mind." He replied.

John stepped back and watched as Chris dressed. Especially the round orbs of her ass cheeks as they disappeared first inside her knickers then inside her white jeans. Chris pulled on her pale yellow jumper leaving her bra on the bed, then held up her leather jacket for John to hold as she pushed her arms into the holes. She stepped back against him, folded his arms across her waist and tilted her head back and up for a kiss. John felt as if he had almost dislocated his neck in his attempt to touch her lips with his own. But it was worth it.

Switching off the light they left the Camper and mounting John's bike drove slowly around the outskirts of the fairground. They had to stop briefly once to allow an Ambulance past then they were away from the site and off towards the dark hills in front of them. The rain had stopped and the road ahead, beyond the light from their headlamp, glistened in the moonlight.

Part 8

Pat kissed Joe on the cheek.

"Thank you." She breathed.

"What for?" Joe asked, his hands going to Pat's shoulder blades.

"For letting Chris go."

"Did I have a choice? Was I asked?"

"But you didn't mind?"

"No. I didn't mind." He turned Pat around and patted her on the backside. "Now let's get back to work. We've got a living to make."

"We?" Pat smiled over her shoulder.

Joe hesitated.

"Yes. We."

Pat went to the far end of the counter and collected the money from three customers and, bending over, collected their pellets from the bucket.

"Joe. Joe. Come quickly. Please."

Lifted her head to crane over the crowds to where max was standing waving her hands.

"It's Mary." Max continued. "She's not well."

Joe sat on the counter and, swinging his legs over, hurried after Max towards the Burger Bar. Pat enlisted the help of her three customers to fit the fit the front cover of the stall into place, quickly kissed each one as payment, then followed.

Mary was lying on the duckboards outside the Wall of Death with Joe breathing into her mouth and Jim performing compressions on her chest. She could hear the siren of an Ambulance approaching. The rain was falling heavily. The crowd was getting bigger. She could hear people shouting. She blinked away the raindrops, or, were they tears? The Ambulance forced its way through the crush. Stallholders were gathering forcing the crowd's back. Making room. One of the Ambulance men was carrying a bright yellow box. Mary's blouse was torn open, her bra lifted and her breasts exposed. The rain bounced from her nipples. The Ambulance man pressed two metal disks to Mary's chest. Her whole chest lifted with the force of the current sent into her. The second Ambulance man felt for a pulse in her wrist then her neck.

"Can some of you help us lift her?" He asked.

The first Ambulance man had disappeared to return with a stretcher on wheels and Mary was lifted gently onto it and covered to the chin with a blanket.

Pat jumped as somebody placed his arm around her shoulders. She turned and looked up at Joe. There was rain on his face. Especially around his eyes.

"Will she be alright?" Pat asked.

"I don't know. Her heart had stopped. They got it going again with that machine but it is very faint. They have to take her to Taunton."

"But that's twenty miles away."

"She's in good hands. I was a member once."

"What off?"

Joe nodded towards the lights of the Ambulance before the crowds swallowed them up.

"St John Ambulance."

"Oh."

Pat didn't want to talk anymore. She wanted Joe to hold her. Tell her Mary would be all right.

"Let's see if Max needs a hand."

Taking her hand he led her to the Burger bar.

Max was closing the back door after closing the shutter and switching of the lights.

"Could you do the generator, please Joe." She asked as they approached. "Has anyone seen Kelly?"

"Had he not come back, yet?" Joe asked angrily.

"Where's Mary?" Kelly staggered towards them from between two stalls. The front of his trousers were wet.

"Oh. Kelly. We're so sorry." Max started to explain.

"Where's my Mary." Kelly interrupted, slurring each word in turn.

"Listen to me you drunken Bastard." Joe said, stepping forward and holding him by the shirtfront. "Mary has gone to Hospital. She isn't well." 

"Where's Mary?" Kelly didn't seem to understand anything Joe said.

For a moment Pat thought Joe was going to hit him and stepped forward, placing her hand on his arm.

"Don't Joe, please." She said.

Joe turned and looked at her then back at Kelly.

"Fuck off." He said, pushing Kelly from him.

Kelly stumbled backwards and sat down.

"Kelly. Are you there?" 

They all turned their heads to this new voice.

"Hallo Mike." Max said. 

"Hallo Max, I haven't seen you for a while." Mike looked down at Kelly then at Joe and finally at Pat.

"I've come to give him a lift to the Hospital."

"Thanks Mike." Max said leaning across and kissing him on the cheek. "I'll come with you if you like?"

Joe and Mike lifted Kelly to his feet and they watched as Max and Mike walked with him through the crowds until they were lost from view.

"What shall we do now?" Joe asked suddenly.

"Do we open up again? The show must go on."

"Not tonight."

"Let's go back to the Camper."

"I need to take Killer down to the canal first."

"Alright. I'll be waiting for you."

Inside the Camper while Joe took Killer for his walk Pat slipped out of her costume. She picked up Chris's and her bra, from the bed and placed them on the small table with her own clothes. She'd never really had a chance to see around the camper before. It was definitely a man's home. She could change that. Given the chance. And she did want the chance. Chris was lucky in a way. Having lost her job she could move on if she wanted to. No, that wasn't Chris. She wanted the stable, home life. Pat knew that she was always the more adventurous of the pair. But she had the job and a man who was leaving on Sunday whereas Chris was out of work and wanted the security that gave her.

Now. If she was in Chris's shoes and Joe said come away with me. Why not? Mr Petigrew could never tell them apart. He'd sacked one twin. Then one twin would leave. She was sure Chris would agree.

She could hear Joe and Killer outside and quickly slipped naked into the bed. They'd need a bigger one of these as well. She lay back drinking in the smells and noise of the fair ground. She could get accustomed to this.

The door opened and Joe climbed into the Camper.

"Are you alright?" He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding one of her hands.

"I'm fine. Why?"

"I've been thinking."

"Careful."

He laughed.

"Would you like to come on the road with me?"

"Yes."

"You can think about it."

"I have."

"What about your job."

"I was fired tonight, remembered."

"But that was Chris."

"See. Even you are having trouble telling us apart."

He placed his hand on one of her breasts and felt it through the bed covers.

"Come to bed." Pat said throwing back the covers.

Joe looked down on her naked body. Stood up and quickly undressed. Switching off the light he lay on the bed and pulled the covers back over them.

Pat could feel his prick pressed hard against her thigh and reached down to stroke it as he kissed her mouth. He moved his head to kiss her neck. His hair smelt clean and fresh after the shower he'd had at her house after they had visited the Jewellers. She could tell her mother hadn't been impressed or approved. Joe was only twelve years older than she was. You'd have thought it was a lifetime. No, and her mother hadn't been impressed when she'd suggested that Joe take a shower after she had. 

Joe's lips had reached her nipple. His movements down the bed pulling his cock from her hand. She ran her fingers through his hair as first he sucked; then licked; then sucked again on her nipple before moving across to her other breast. 

A low moan escaped from her lips as she opened her legs wider. Bending her knees she lifted and tilted her hips to rub her slit along his stomach and ribs. She could feel the build up inside her as her breathing deepened. Joe lingered on her breasts, teasing her. She placed her hands on her shoulders and pushed. She was almost shocked by her own brazenness. A day ago she would never have dreamed about encouraging a man to go there. Not like this. Well, perhaps in her dreams.

Joe's tongue was investigating her navel. She wanted to scream. Hurry up.

Finally she gasped out loud as his fingers pulled her lips apart and his tongue found her clit. She could feel it swelling. She knew that Joe could sense her need as his tongue flicked hard against it. She couldn't breath. Every feeling in her body was concentrated on one spot. The spot where his tongue was lifting her, driving her. She felt as if she must die. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't count the number of finger he had inside her pussy. She hardly felt the other finger, coated in her lubricant that he pushed into her anus. She managed to snatch a breath before wave after wave of pleasure broke over her. Her whole body tensed. She shouted. He relaxed.

She breathed deeply as Joe pulled his fingers from her and loomed above her in the darkness. She could feel his prick at the lips of her pussy. The tip was forcing her lips apart. He was sliding inside her. She could taste herself on the lips her pressed to her own. A musty, salty, fishy taste.

She grunted as Joe's cock hit something inside her.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Fine." She smiled up at him. 

The light from the moon was beginning to filter through the Camper's curtains. She could make out his outline above her. She could definitely feel him inside her. Moving along her tube. Opening her, then allowing her to close slightly as he pulled out, then opening her again as he pushed back in. Yes she could feel him. The inside of the Camper suddenly lightened, the Moon must have slipped out from behind a cloud. She could see his face. He did look as if he was enjoying himself. So was she. This wasn't the chore it had become with her previous boyfriend. This was so much better. She gasped as Joe quickened his strokes. Strangely, she didn't feel she needed to come again. It was nice like this. Giving pleasure to her man. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he shortened his strokes. Squeezing his cock tightly with her pussy muscles. Hearing him grunt and feeling the wetness inside her as he came. 

For a second he collapsed on top of her then he pulled his cock from her pussy and rolled onto his side beside her.

Rolling over to face him she pressed her nipples hard against his chest and felt his cock and balls against her pubic mound.

"And how do you feel?" She asked, kissing his chin.

"Fine." He replied. "Just fine."

"We will need a bigger bed."

Part 9

John breasted the hill and headed down into the village of Chipping Brunton. Reaching the bridge over the stream he stopped the bike and turned it onto the bridal path. Revving the engine he slipped the clutch and headed along the grass covered path past the Wagstaffe's house with its footbridge, terraces and swimming pool. Following the path up to the clearing with the old oak tree. 

Chris shivered as the approached it. It looked so scary bathed in moonlight, casting semi-hard shadows on the ground around it. 

John pulled up beneath its branches and switched off the engine. They both removed their helmets.

After the noise of the bike the silence was total at first. Then Chris could hear the sounds of the night. An Owl hooted. Leaves rustled in the breeze. Water dripping. Then the ticking of the engine as it cooled.

She could hear everything. It was as if every sense were alive as never before. She took John's hand and led him to the edge of the clearing and onto the well-worn path that led up through the gorse and heather. Everything looked so different in this silver half-light. But her feet seemed to know the way.

Once they stopped to look down upon the pinpricks of light from the village. The houses looked as if they had been painted in silver and black.

Chris lifted her face to John, and he kissed her.

She was glad she had made John stop on the way so she could tell her Mother she and Pat would be very late back, if they didn't stop over with friends. She knew from the tone of her mother's reply that she knew what was going on. Also that she didn't approve. She'd liked their last boyfriends. After all, she'd been to school with their mother's.

Then on again. Then they were there. Where they had picnicked earlier in the day. The place where slabs of bedrock were showing through the thin soil. They held hands as they looked back own the hill. The lights from the village were gone. Hidden by the trees that flanked the stream. They were alone on the planet.

John turned Chris to him and they kissed. Each tongue seeking the others. John reached for the zip on Chris's jacket and slowly pulled it down. The two halves falling open to reveal the mounds of her breasts beneath her jumper. Chris slipped her arms from the sleeves of her jacket and watched John lay it on the ground then remove his own and lay it next to it, forming a small bed.

John smiled at Chris as he straightened then reached for the button and zip on her jeans. Chris tensed slightly then relaxed as John undid them and pulled them to the ground. She shivered slightly as the cool evening touched the warm skin of her legs. Her jeans were by her ankles and she stepped from them as John held them. Without rising John reached for her knickers and slipped his fingers inside the elastic around her waist. Slowly he pulled them down. His face was so close she could feel his warm breath against the top of her thighs, against her pubic hairs. She stepped from them knowing she was flashing her slit at John each time she lifted a foot. Reaching behind her and holding her ass cheeks in both hands John pulled her towards him and buried his face in her pubic mound. 

She ran her finger through his hair as he nuzzled at her pussy. His breath was warm against her slit. She opened her legs and felt the moistness of his tongue as it searched between them. She gasped as it touched her clit. Guided by her response John licked again at that spot. Her leg trembled and she would have fallen had John not held her by the ass cheeks.

John helped her to lie on her back then resumed his assault on her pussy. She lifted her hips to meet each thrust of his tongue. Pulling his head closer as each wave of pleasure ran through her. Pleasure which built and built until, with a cry, she came.

John moved up to lie by her side and held one of her breasts beneath her jumper.




Travelling Folk Series Pt. 02



She pulled his lips to her own. They smiled at each other as they pulled away.

Chris slowly unbuttoned the buttons down the front of John's shirt running her fingers through the hairs on his chest between each one. Finally they were all undone and she pulled the shirt bottom from the wait band of John' jeans. Sitting upright she looked down on him. His tightly muscled torso with it's not overly generous covering of shot hair. His small dark nipples and his tight navel. The line of dark hairs leading her eyes to the top of his jeans.

Reaching down he undid his belt. The button next and then the zip. Pushing the material to the side she saw his pale blue 'Y' fronted underpants and the massive looking bulge beneath them. Sliding her hand inside his underpants she ran her fingertips along the length of his shaft. 'My god.' She thought, 'it must be as thick as her wrist.' 

Taking John's hint, from the way he lifted his bottom from the ground, Chris pushed and pulled his jeans and underpants to his knees. His cock looked so big. Gingerly she picked it up and stroked the foreskin back and forth. The sound of John's breathing changed. 

She swallowed hard and looked into John's face.

She saw lust, anticipation and something else. That something she'd hoped would be there.

Kneeling, she licked her lips and took the tip of John's cock between them. She hadn't really known what t expect. It felt so soft. So many different tastes and smells. Lifting her head she worked up some saliva in her mouth before engulfing it with her lips again. John raised his hips, helping his cock into mouth. Closing her lips around the end Chris started sucking. John placed one of his hands n the back of her head and pushed gently. Chris lifted her head. Wasn't she doing it right?

"What?" She started.

"Have you never done this before?" John asked, running his fingers through her hair.

"No." Chris mumbled her confession.

"Hey." John said, lifting her head towards him. "You were doing great. Just close your lips around it and move it in and out. Don't worry. I won't come in your mouth."

Chris studied his face for a moment. Then she looked down at his cock. It was starting to shrink. Picking it up she wanked it back to hardness then, licking her lips again she lowered her head. It slid between her lips and its head rested on the back of her tongue. She pulled back the moved forward again. It was difficult at first, trying to keep her lips closed tight and her teeth from scratching it. She moved again and again. She could tell from the sound coming from John that he was enjoying it. She would need a lot of practice, she felt.

Suddenly John grunted and his hips started to move.

"I'm going to come." He gasped.

Should she move or should she stay? John was breathing heavily. His cock seemed to grow even bigger in her mouth. She continued moving her head.

"I'm there." John cried out.

Whatever she had thought would happen next in her imagination and talking to Pat had not prepared her for the force with which his come hit the back of her throat. Her head jerked backwards. She coughed then spluttered then swallowed. There was more and still more. She could feel it on her gums, her lips, and her tongue.

At last it had stopped jerking in her mouth and lay still between her lips. Lifting her head she swallowed again. She'd never tasted anything like that before. Hot and slightly salty. She tried not to think of what it was. After all, it wouldn't kill her. She found herself licking her lips. Searching for more as she moved to John's side and lay cacooned in his arms. He kissed her forehead. ' Why not her lips?' She thought. 'It's his after all.' No. She didn't want to make a scene. Just let her lie their forever. 

John moved. He turned her onto her back and moved above her blocking the Moon with his body. It felt suddenly dark and she wanted to move. But John had moved first. She could feel his cock pushing at the lips of her pussy. Reaching down between their bodies she pulled them apart. She felt him begin to enter her. He was big. He was. She gasped as he slid inside her. Gasped again as he pulled almost out then pushed back inside.

Automatically she bent her knees opening herself further to him. His pubic mound thumped into hers and his balls banged against her ass cheeks as he quickened his movements. He moved faster still, driving the breath from her body. Making her pant. Making her gasp for air. Gasp with pleasure. Before she realised she was coming she was there. Still John kept moving inside her, taking her higher with each thrust. She came again and then again. He was there. His cock was so deep inside her. She could feel it jerking. Feel the wetness it was leaving behind.

He stopped moving and looked down at her face.

"Alright?" He asked.

She wished he didn't keep asking her that.

Part 10

John stopped the bike beside Joe's Camper and kicked down the stand. When he had asked her if she had wanted to go home she had shook her head. She wanted to stay with him.

Lifting the rear flap of the tent they were met with growls from Killer. The inside of the tent was lit by the security lighting that covered the site in a yellow glow. The odd generator still growled here and there.

"Down Killer." Chris said. "I have the keys."

As Killer subsided and allowed Chris to rub behind his ears John reached behind the shelves of prizes and targets and produced the blankets and pillow Joe had given him the night before. Pulling out some flattened cardboard boxes Joe used to transport his prizes in John lay them on the duckboards behind the counter and arranged the blankets on top.

Killer growled.

"Shut up, you stupid dog." John hissed. "You know who we are."

Killer growled again.

"I think there is somebody outside." Chris said, her voice hardly above a whisper.

John looked at Killer then at Chris.

"Alright." He said, lifting the counter flap and starting to unlace the front flap of the tent. "I'll look."

The inside of the tent lightened as he unhooked the flap and folded it back. T Chris it seemed eerier that it had on the hillside. The moonlight had softened and the stars were in full display when they had finished dressing each other and walked back to the bike. At the tree John had carved a heart around their initials.

Chris kept her hand on Killers collar and followed John out of the tent. 

A man was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of the Burger van.

He looked up as they approached.

"What's wrong?" John asked.

Suddenly there were voices. People were coming from all directions.

John helped the man to his feet. He stank of alcohol.

"Mary's dead." He said. "I didn't get to say goodbye."



Travelling Folk Series Pt. 03



Travelling Folk Series Pt. 03: Glastonbury Games

Part 3 of the Travelling Folk Trilogy

Copyright 2000. By Paul. All events and Characters are fictitious. Well, nearly all of them. The Glastonbury music festival certainly exists. As far as I am aware none of the following events have ever happened at one.

Glossary: For Fanny read Vagina.

Click Here to listen to Section 1. (14 min/RealMedia)

Click Here to listen to Section 2. (13 min/RealMedia)

Click Here to listen to Section 3. (17 min/RealMedia)

Click Here to listen to Section 4. (19 min/RealMedia)

* * * * *

Introduction

The fields are just outside Glastonbury, Somerset, England and are the site of Europe's premier music festival for three days most June's. 

The eighty thousand tickets for the three days had long been sold but the festival organisers knew that another twenty thousand would try and gatecrash at some period over the weekend. It was not that the organisers minded too much at this, they would allow for this in their calculations as to what to charge the stallholders. The maximum ticket sales figure was for insurance purposes and the security guards only evicted those without enough money on them to pay the, on the spot, entrance charge. 

A hundred thousand people. The town of Glastonbury's population would increase fourfold for this short period before sinking back into its relative obscurity. Well, relative obscurity. It was well known to many for its legend of being the site of Camelot in the days of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Also of it being the birthplace of St Patrick and from where he was abducted by Irish pirates. As well as having the ruins of what had been the largest and richest Abbey in England before King Henry the Eighth got his hands on it. Over looking it all was the old tower, or Tor, on its hill. When the mists lay thick over the Vale of Avalon it was sometimes the only landmark in sight for miles. It was an old land. 

It's ten o'clock on Thursday morning. 

The first crowds were arriving, pitching their tents in the fields around them, even though the music wouldn't start until ten the following morning. 

"Hey Max." Kelly called in his soft Irish lilt from behind the hotplate in his catering van. "Do you want a burger?" 

"Please." Max shouted back. "I'll come across." 

She finished serving her customer then checked the soil around the Bonsai Maple tree she kept as a reminder of her Canadian upbringing before lowering the flap on her tent. Her tent, from where she sold her mystical trinkets and told fortunes. She made her way across the lanes of mud to the burger van. She tapped on the back door, heard the bolt being pulled, slipped off her Wellington boots, and climbed the three steps inside. 

She was a big woman. In her late thirties, five feet eight inches tall, one hundred and sixty pounds in weight with jet-black hair streaked with bright red as befitted a mystic. She was dressed in a knee length woollen skirt and a blouse and shawl. She had a black leather purse strapped around her waist. She washed her hands at the sink, dried them and, picking up a slice, turned the burgers on the hot plate while Kelly opened and buttered some rolls and buns. She looked down at a young couple in front of her. She surely wasn't sixteen. 

"Two burgers please." The young girl said. "Do you know when the fortune tellers coming back?" 

"She's here in front of you." She pulled some diced onions onto the hottest part of the hotplate. They sizzled, giving off their distinctive aroma. "What can I do for you? Haven't you finished those bread rolls yet Kelly?" 

"You're worse than ever...." He started. 

"Give them here." She took two, filled them with burger and onions, handed the offered note to Kelly and watched as he counted the change from the purse around his own waist and handed it down. 

He was in his mid forties. She'd known him for eight years. Him and his wife, Mary. Mary who had died the previous year. They would meet at a dozen or more festivals and fairs during the season. Mary would run the van while he kept the pubs busy. Then, after that night in Bridgwater, when he hadn't been there when she had needed him, he hadn't touched a drop. It was all too late for Mary. She wondered briefly whether she would see Crazy Joe again this year. That new girl assistant he had, the one with the twin sister, she'd be good for him. Better than that horrible dog was. 

She opened the fridge at the rear of the van and took out a tray of burgers. She started them all off cooking and handed the tray to Kelly to refill from the freezer. 

The girl was still standing in front of her. 

"Would you like to know your future, Dearie?" 

The young girl tilted her head up, an expectant look upon her face. 

"Yes please." 

"If you're not on the pill you will end up pregnant." 

The couple stormed off. 

"You shouldn't have said that." Kelly said, looking out for potential customers. 

"Why not?" Max retorted. "It could prove to be one of my truer prophecies." 

She made up two burgers and handed one to Kelly. 

"Close the shutter while we eat." Max said, sitting on the stool Kelly kept for use during slack periods. 

"Why?" Kelly asked, closing the front shutters. "What do you want to do? Tell me my fortune." 

"I could. Come to my caravan tonight and I will." 

"Thanks for the offer but you know I have no truck with that sort of thing." 

"Who said it had anything to do with that sort of thing." She smiled and looked at him from underneath her large eyelashes. 

"Oh." He looked at her. "Well in that case. Maybe one day I'll take you up on it. Just not yet." 

"Whenever you're ready." 

She finished her burger and stood up refusing his offer of coffee. She looked at the row of model cars on the high shelf along the back wall of the caravan. 'Cars from the movies'. The legend on each box read. Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang, James Bond's Aston Martin DB5, and nine others. 

"I see you haven't found it yet." 

"No." Kelly shook his head. "Perhaps one day." 

"I wrote again to the company who made them." He continued. "They only produced a few hundred sets as the magazine they were produced for folded before the whole set had been issued. They let me have the un-issued ones but they had none left of the McQueen Ford Mustang." He picked up the box that contained James Bond's Aston Martin and turned it around in his hand. "It was Mary really. She was determined that I would have the complete set. I'll just keep looking." 

He replaced the box on the shelf. 

"Anyway." He pushed up and locked in place the shutters. They formed a small awning for his customers. "I've a living to earn what with the amount he wants this year for a site." 

"Tell me." Max stood on the outside steps and stepped into her Wellington boots. "It looks like it's going to rain again. I don't suppose we should expect anything else in June in England." 

"What keeps you here?" Kelly asked over his shoulder as he started filling an order for hot dogs. 

"I could go back to Canada I suppose. My sister and her husband still own their Country music bar outside Toronto. I could make a living there I suppose." 

"I've heard you sing." Kelly handed the customer his change. "You could make a living here." 

He nodded towards the trees behind which the huge stages had been set up. 

"Get on with you." 

"No, I mean it. You're very good." 

"I'm writing a song at the moment. I'm having problems with the last verse but if you don't want your fortune read or anything else, come across, and you'll be the first and probably only person to hear it." 

"Maybe. You'd better hurry. There are some folks trying to get into your tent." 

Max hurried back before they left. It was starting to rain again. She served the two young girls with the rings and necklaces they wanted and look out down the path towards the entrance of the lane. 

She knew exactly what could happen to a girl in the fields of Pilton when they weren't on the pill. She'd finished college and was out to see the world. It had been a wild period in her life. Lots of drink, lots of pot and lots of sex. She was too careful to get pregnant. That was something that only happened to others. Proof that she couldn't always see the future bounded towards her. 

"Hi Mum, sorry Max." Curly light brown hair, she had a round face with freckles on her nose. She was sixteen years and three months old. She really must get her a better fitting bra. 

"Hallo Claudette," she said, hugging her to her own bosom. 

"How's your father?" She asked when she released her. 

She didn't see Tom very often even though she owned a flat in town. He owned a Newsagents shop in the centre of Glastonbury. They had stayed together for nearly eight years but in the end she'd had to leave him. Out of boredom mainly. When his parents had died leaving him the shop and business she could see the future then, clearly. Each day would be the same until they retired or died. She'd tried to get him to sell up, come on the road, see new places, meet new people, but he'd changed almost overnight. There was Claudette to consider, he'd said, her education. She needed a home and a stable environment. 

She hadn't known at the time that Paula had been waiting in the wings to take her place almost before her old VW camper had left the town. Had she known, she would probably have left sooner. Funny, she'd never seen Tom as being the one to have an affair. 


It had probably turned out for the best. She'd had her freedom. Claudette had been brought up in a stable environment. No. Things hadn't turned out badly at all. But her nights were sometimes lonely. Her succession of lovers had never fully satisfied all her needs. There was always something missing. An emptiness that still needed to be filled. Even Crazy Joe couldn't fill it. She smiled when she thought of him. 

"Can I work with you again this year?" Claudette asked, picking out some new growth on the top of the Maple tree. 

Max had been expecting this and took the workers pass out of her purse and handed it to her. It would give her free entry into all parts of the site. 

"Thank you." Claudette said as she pinned it to her blouse. "Is there anything you need?" 

"Where from?" Max teased. "In town?" 

Claudette looked crestfallen. 

"I didn't mean there." She started to explain. 

"I know." Max smiled. "You want to look around. There'll be no stars here yet. The big ones send their roadies to do the sound tests." 

"Claudette, are you ready yet?" 

A tall, almost painfully thin, youth stood in the entrance to the tent. He was also wearing a workers pass. 

"Mum. Sorry. Max. This is Gerry." 

"Hallo Gerry." Max said, stepping towards him and holding out her hand. "Have I seen you before." 

"He goes to Millfield School." Claudette offered as explanation. 

"It's alright, Claudette. I've known your mother for years." 

"Gerry." Max thought out loud. "Of course. You're Mike's son." 

"That's right." 

"How's your Dad?" 

"He's doing well. Promoting with the big boys now." 

"I'm glad. It was sad what happened to your grandfather when they stopped giving out licenses to Boxing booths." 

"It killed him." Gerry said bluntly. "The family had run the booth for over one hundred years. It broke his heart when they said it was not allowed in this modern age. An age ran by woman, that's what he called it." 

"A good thing too." Claudette said. "It's sad about your Grandfather but Boxing is barbaric." 

"I saw some of those booths." Max said, adjusting the position of the maple tree, then moving it back. "Getting drunken lads into the ring against professional boxers. They never had a chance." 

"Well. They're over with now." Gerry said, linking his arm through Claudette's. 

"Don't be too long this time if you're going to help me." Max raised her eyebrow in query to Claudette as they turned to leave. 

"See you later." Claudette smiled back at her and nodded. 

She watched her back until it disappeared from view amongst the hoards of people queuing at the main site entrance. 

Mike Webster's son. She thought. Now there was a thing. She knew Mike. She knew him very well indeed, in fact. She remembered the serious look he always had on his face, as he would move in and out of her. How it always broke into a huge smile after he had finished pumping his come into her. 

Should she tell Claudette? She had grown up so quickly. It wouldn't be incest for a daughter to go out with the son of her Mother's former lover. Could lead to some interesting moments if she did meet Mike again though. He had a wife now, unfortunately. Now he was one she shouldn't have let slip through her fingers. 

Another was Crazy Joe. 

There was a man. He was so hard on the outside yet so gentle as a lover. She had never really trusted that dog of his though. She had been half expecting him to try to mount her as well on the first few occasions they'd made love. In the end she'd made him leave it outside the caravan. 

Unfortunately their paths had only crossed a dozen times in that year. She would sleep with him whenever the opportunity arose but she could tell he was moving on. Some men would have continued to use her for the sex she freely offered but not Joe. That had been three years ago now. She'd hoped he would ask her to spend the winter months with him in his parent's old cottage on the south coast. Instead, one evening, before going to her bed, he'd told her that he thought their relationship should end. He wasn't being fair to her. Just using her. She'd said him she didn't mind. Then he told her he had found somebody else and left her lying on her bed. It had been a long time since she had cried over a man but she did that night. 

When she had next seen him at the Easter fair the following year she'd found out that they're hadn't been another. He had thought he was being kind to her. The fool. Now there was somebody else. A lot younger and prettier than she was. Worse still, a very nice young girl. 

Lucky Joe. Damm Him. 

She looked across at Kelly. He would take some working on. It was nearly nine months since his wife had died. He was her height though probably weighed less. A wiry physic, you could call it. A thin face, almost pointed, with the palest blue she thought she'd ever seen. 

She wondered what he'd strip like. Would he be muscular or bony? She had an itch between her legs. Turning her back on Kelly and the people walking by her stall she rubbed at herself through the material of her skirt. The itch seemed to worsen. She squeezed herself, feeling the give in the lips of her fanny. She felt a warm glow throughout her body. She hadn't felt like this in ages. She rubbed herself again, targeting her clit this time. She breathed in deeply. She looked at her watch. It was eleven thirty. There wasn't normally very much business at this time of day so she went to the front of the tent. Waving to Kelly, who had a group of people waiting for service, she started to close off the flaps of her tent. 

"Give us a hand there Maxie if you're closing up." She heard Kelly call. Fuck. 

A feeling of frustration swept over her but she finished closing the flaps of her tent from the outside, hung up her closed sign, and made her way across to Kelly's van. 

He let her in the back door and handed her his spare apron. Leaving her boots outside she slipped her feet into the spare pair of trainers he always kept by the door and, washing her hands, picked up the slice and started turning burgers. 

Perhaps it was his closeness, the occasional touching of their bodies as they moved around in the cramped confines of the van but her itch just wouldn't go away. 

Max stayed, helping Kelly, for over an hour and a half until the lunchtime rush subsided. Another five minutes on her own whilst he answered a call of nature in the nearby public port-a-loo then she headed back to her own camper, which was parked behind her tent, refusing his offer of another burger. No wonder Mary had died of a heart attack. She thought. Living off burgers and hotdogs. 

She unlocked the door of her camper and slipped inside, kicking her boots off by the door. The former horsebox where she carried her canvas and merchandise whilst moving from site to site was still hooked to it. She could do with some big strong men to unhook it for her. 

Time enough for that later. For now something more pressing had to be addressed. She pulled the curtains and stood looking down on her bed. 

"If only you could talk." She spoke her thoughts out loud as those who spend a lot of time alone often do. 

Unzipping her skirt and stepping from it she laid it out flat on the bench seat opposite her bed. Her tights and panties followed and she stopped to gaze at her half nude body in the full-length mirror on the front of the wardrobe door. Lifting her blouse with one hand she ran her fingers through her forest of dark pubic hairs. Opening her legs she swivelled her hips forward until the lips of her vagina were in view. With two fingers she spread them wide. The swollen bud of her clit sprang out from under its hood. It looked so pink and moist. She moved a fingertip to its side and gently rubbed it. The muscles on the inside of her thighs tensed, then relaxed. 

She rubbed it again. Breathing quickly. Faster. Faster. She dropped her blouse and placed her hand on the doorframe to steady herself. She threw back her head drawing in great gasps of air until, with a sigh, the tension that had been building inside her peaked. Her legs went weak and she rested her head against the back of her hand. She breathed deeply for a few seconds then, standing upright looked at her face in the mirror. She looked flushed. There were beads of sweat on her hairline. One ran down her temple onto her cheek. Her fanny felt as if it was on fire. She squeezed her lips together. It didn't help. She needed something else. 

On the small table surrounded on three sides by bench seats at the rear of the camper she had some open boxes of scented candles she'd been pricing up with her pricing gun earlier that morning. She picked up one of them and lay down upon her bed. She closed her eyes as she bent her knees and allowed her thighs to flop open. 

Crazy Joe's face was looming above her. His long hair released from his ponytail, hung down, the ends swaying to the movements of his body. She pulled her fanny lips wide with the index and middle finger of her left hand and guided the larger, blunter end of the candle between them. She first pushed an inch of the candle inside her hole, as Joe would do with his prick. She pulled it out and pushed it in again, a little further this time, as she tried to hold the image of Joe's face in her mind. She pulled it out a little then pushed it fully in. Tilting her hips to angle her vagina to take it. 

She lay still, the muscles inside her feeling and adjusting to the object of penetration. She started working the candle slowly in and out then faster as her lubrication increased. Joe's face had disappeared to be replaced by Mike, then Harry, Fred, Larry and others. A kaleidoscope of features and feelings as she continued moving the candle, moving it in and out until, finally, as Kelly's face appeared above her, she came. 

She lay still again. This time every muscle in her body seemed to relax. Her entire being was filled with a warm glow. How long she remained like that she couldn't tell. Suddenly she could hear voices outside. She recognised Claudette's. She pulled the candle from her hole and, swinging her legs from the bed, stood up and quickly pulled on her skirt. The door handle turned and the door opened. She hadn't locked it. 




Travelling Folk Series Pt. 03



"Come in." She said to Claudette and Gerry. "What's it like out there?" 

She switched on the stove and placed the kettle on to boil. 

"The fields are starting to fill up. It's stopped raining for the time being." Claudette said, suddenly hurrying to the other end of the camper and picking up Max's tights and knickers and stuffing them under the pillow on the bed. 

"Mother, sorry Max, you shouldn't leave things like that lying around." 

"Sorry. I'm sure Gerry seen a pair of tights before." Max made a pot of tea. 

"There's a lot of people outside your tent." Gerry said sitting at the table and holding Claudette's hand as she sat next to him. 

"Have you had anything to eat?" Max opened the door of the fridge and looked inside. Four cans of beer, two bottles of wine, milk, eggs and butter. 

"Yes Kelly gave us some hotdogs before he closed up." Claudette stared into Gerry's eyes. 

"Why did he close at this time of day?" Max asked closing the fridge door and standing upright. She rubbed at the base of her spine. 

"Uncle Larry told me to tell him he had a car he was looking for." 

"Larry has one. That's marvellous. He's been looking for one for so long. Is he going to let him have it?" 

She also knew where he had obtained the workers pass. 

Thoughts of Larry flashed through her brain. He had definitely been one of her mistakes. Her anus contracted as she recalled the time she'd taken him to bed. His wife was staying with her sick mother for a few weeks and they had travelled to three fairs together. 

He'd been helpful and friendly despite his rough manners and language. He was as different to his brother Mike as could be. She quite liked him however. Well, she tried to convince herself of that. They were off to different sites the following week and his wife was returning. She'd drank a bottle of wine and when he knock on her door in the small hours of the morning she'd welcomed him inside. 

He didn't make love to her. He fucked her. Forcing his prick into her mouth, her fanny and finally her ass. Taking his pleasure without concern for her. Yet, when he'd finished she'd lain before him, shamelessly masturbating herself to orgasm. 

Gerry was talking. 

"What did you say?" She asked. 

"I said I didn't think he would." Gerry repeated. "I think he just wants to let him know he has one." 

"That's mean." Claudette said. 

"Yes. It is a bit." Max agreed. "After all, it probably doesn't mean anything to him yet it would mean so much to Kelly. I must go and see what's happening." 

"We'll stay here." 

Claudette said as Max pulled on her Wellington boots. The insides were cold against the bare skin of her feet. 

"Alright." Max opened the door of the camper. "I'll be opening up as soon as I get back if you're going to help me." 

"Of course I am." 

She thought she saw Claudette's head moving towards Gerry's as she closed the door. 

She must find out what was happening. Time for Claudette later. Anyway she was Tom and Paula's problem. They'd probably resent her butting in. She knew Claudette would. She had her temper. 

As she walked out from behind her tent she saw Kelly walking slowly towards his own camper. 

"Kelly. Wait for me." She called pushing her way through the steady stream of people making their way between the lines of stalls towards the main site entrance. 

Kelly stopped at the steps leading up into his camper, his key in its lock. He turned and looked at her. He looked so sad. Something clutched at her insides. 

"What's wrong?" She asked as he turned the key and opened the door. He entered without answering. She followed him inside. 

"What's wrong?" She repeated. 

"Oh. Hallo Max." He said, as if recognising her presence for the first time. 

"I hear Larry has that model car you were looking for." 

Max sat down next to him on the sleeping bag that lay on his bed. He seemed to flinch, as if startled by her nearness. 

"What happened?" Max spoke as she would if she were trying to coax a secret from a reluctant child. 

"He wouldn't sell it to me." Kelly suddenly buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook. 

Max placed her arm around his shoulders and pulled his head down to rest on her breast. She ran her fingers through his hair and made soft, soothing noises. 

"It's stupid." Kelly said, lifting his head and looking into Max's eyes. "It's only a model car. She didn't even like the film. But she so wanted for me to have the full set. I sometimes feel she'll never rest until I do complete it." 

"How much did you offer?" Max slowly ran her fingers down the side of his face. 

"One hundred." Kelly replied, looking down at his hands. 

"That's a ridiculous amount of money." 

Her fingers were still entwined in his hair. She placed her other hand upon his. He lifted his eyes to hers. She pulled his head towards her again, this time meeting his lips with her own. She felt them tense. She massaged them with her own, licked and prodded at them with her tongue. She lifted one of his hands and placed it on her breast. The fingers squeezed gently. She returned her hand to his lap, feeling for his prick and balls through his jeans. As she cupped and squeezed them his lips parted and he began responding to her kiss. His tongue met her own in a fencing dual, first in his mouth, then in hers. His fingers tightened around her breast and she could feel her nipple hardening in response. With his hand behind her back he pulled her blouse from the waistband of her skirt and ran his fingers up her spine. They stopped at her bra strap and he fumbled to undo it one handed. 

Pulling her lips from his she smiled at him and unbuttoned the front of her blouse. He helped her to take it off and dropped it onto the floor. She unhooked her heavy bra and let it fall on top of it. Kicking off her Wellington boots she stood in front of him and undid the fastening and zip on her skirt, letting it fall to the ground. Reaching out with her hands she pulled his head against her pubic mound. His hands moved to her ass cheeks, pulling them apart, a fingertip prodding at her anus. 

Taking a deep breath she sank to her knees before him. Fingers fumbling with the belt and zip of his jeans. Finally they were undone and he lifted his ass from the bed to help her pull them down. She picked up his still flaccid prick and worked the foreskin back and forth before, with a lick of her lips, guiding it into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around its tip, probing its little hole before working its full length in and out of her mouth. 

She stopped working on his prick and took it from her mouth. Something was wrong. It wasn't growing. She looked up at him. 

"I'm sorry." He stammered. "I can't" 

"Lie down." She placed her hand on the centre of his chest and pushed gently. "Don't worry. Try to relax." 

He lay back with his head on his pillow and swung his legs up onto the bed. Max straddled his hips and, taking his prick in one hand tried to guide its still soft tip between the lips of her fanny which she held open with the fingers of her other one. She moved slowly up and down trying to coax it inside but only succeeded in increasing her own desire. She lay it flat, pointing towards his navel and ran her fanny lips along its length, coating in moisture. She worked his foreskin back and forth with her fingers. Willing it to grow and harden. Eventually he took her hands in his own. 

"I'm very sorry, Max." He turned his head to one side to stare at the wall. "I just.... You're a fine woman.... I just..." 

She climbed from the bed, tears rolling down her cheeks, and dressed in silence. He didn't move. He just lay still staring at the wall. 

She left to return to her own van. She wiped her tears on the back of her hand, it came away black with her mascara. She couldn't let anybody see her like this. She kept her head lowered, her eyes firmly to the ground, as she made her way through the crowds and down the side of her tent. 

'How could she ever face him again?' She worried as she turned her key in the lock. 

Claudette's naked legs were wrapped around Gerry's back as his prick moved in and out of her fanny. 

"Claudette." She screamed. "What are you doing?" 

Gerry jerked upright as if he'd been shot and, pulling out of Claudette, stood up, covering his rapidly shrinking, condom covered prick, with his hands. 'At least she could get a man hard.' Max thought, standing still and looking from one to the other. 

"I'm sorry Mum." Claudette said bursting into tears and turning onto her side away from her, drawing her knees up as if trying to make herself as small as possible. 

"We.... We...." Gerry could only stammer. 

Max suddenly felt very calm. The situation was quite funny, really. She had been trying her best to get a soft man hard and now she'd made a hard man soft. What could she say? Was it any of her business? They were both over sixteen. They weren't doing anything un-natural. 

"Well at least you're taking precautions. How long has this been going on? She asked mater of factly, taking a tissue from her box and wiping at her eyes. Claudette turned and looked at her. Disbelief then concern on her face. 

"You've been crying." She said, climbing off the bed and pulling on her knickers. "What's wrong?" 

"It's silly really. Larry won't sell Kelly that Damm toy car." 

"Should I speak to him." Gerry made the offer, pulling on his T-shirt but sounding as if he hoped he wouldn't be asked to. 

"I'll speak to him." She picked up her money belt. "I really should open up the stall." 

"We'll do that for you." Claudette said pulling on her jeans with difficulty. Max watched as Claudette struggled to fit her breasts into her bra. She must really buy her a better one. 

"You do that." She said, handing over her purse. "I shouldn't be too long. Check my tree for me." 

She closed the door behind her and walked behind the line of stalls until she came to Larry's Candyfloss, Toffee apples and confectionery van. Stepping past his generator she knocked on the back door. 

"Who is it?" Larry's deep, rough voice asked from the other side of the door. 

"It's Max. Can I talk to you?" 

He heard him speaking to somebody. Probably to his married Daughter who lived in Street, the next town along, and who helped out when his wife was away. The door opened and he stepped down. 

"Have you seen that Gerry, he was with that girl of yours?" He asked, no almost demanded, wiping his hands on his apron. 

He was a big man. Nearing fifty, six feet two, seventeen stones, he looked like he would have been a boxer in his youth. He was still a very masculine man. She could feel herself becoming wet. 

"Yes." Max replied. "He's with Claudette in my stall." 

"I didn't give him that pass to work for you." 

"He's only there whilst we talk." 

"What about?" 

"The car. You know how much it would mean to Kelly." 

"He hasn't got anything I want." 

He stepped closer. She stood her ground, suddenly very conscious of his nearness. She didn't move when he placed his hand upon her hip. 

"You, however, have." He continued. 

She swallowed hard. 

"You're joking." 

"It's up to you." 

His hand moved round to rest on one of her ass cheeks, squeezing it, his fingers forcing the material of her skirt into the crevice between them. 

"Do you think I'd let you. For a car." 

"No. Not for a car. For Kelly. I've seen the way you look at him. How you're always in his van or camper." 

He ran his fingers up and down the fold of material he'd created between her ass cheeks. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

"I'm closing at ten tonight. I'll bring the car around." 

"You'll be wasting your time." 

"As I said." He gave her ass cheek a final squeeze and opened the door to his van. "That's up to you." 

He climbed up into his van and closed the door behind him. 

Max stood still staring at the closed door. 

'How dare he?' She fumed, pulling the material of her skirt from between her ass cheeks. 'What kind of woman did he think she was? He had another think coming if he thought she was going to let him have her if he came around that night'. She turned and hurried back to her own tent. Gerry and Claudette stood in the rear of the tent, with their arms around each other, ignoring the customers. 

"Can I help you?" She asked the nearest, a woman in her mid twenties. She had straight black hair and looked and smelled as if she hadn't washed in a week. 

"How much is this?" She asked, pointing towards the Bonsai tree. 

"I'm sorry that's not for sale. It's private property. Only for display." She saw Gerry and Claudette release each other from the corner of her eye. 

"But I want it." 

"I'm sorry. It's not for sale." 

"Dave." The girl turned to a even dirtier looking man in his late twenties. "She won't let me have that tree." 

"This tree?" said Dave, picking it up by its branches. 

"Put it down." Max almost screamed at him. "You'll break it." 

"She said, put it down." Gerry came from the rear of the tent. 

"It's alright Gerry. I'll handle it." Max placed her arm across his chest. "Your Uncle wants you back at the van." 

"Yes, stay out of it, kid." Dave said, tossing the tree onto the table and clenching his fists. "You don't want to get hurt." 

Max could sense Gerry bristle by her side. He came from a family of fighters after all. 

"Who's going to get hurt?" 

The question came from the doorway. It was accompanied by a deep-throated growl from the dog by his side. 

"Stay out of it." Said Dave edging towards the far side of the tent. 

"I think you should leave," said Crazy Joe walking towards Max and leaving the tent entrance clear. "Come on Dave," said the girl, taking his hand. "It's all crap in here anyway." 

"Yeah, let's fuck off." They watched them leave in silence. 

Max picked up the Bonsai tree. Two branches were broken and some of its roots were visible above the soil. She placed it on the table and pressed the soil down firmly. 

"Will it be alright?" Claudette asked. 

"Give it time." Joe said telling his dog to sit. 

Max smiled weakly at him. 

"Thanks Joe." She said. 

"I could have handled him," said Gerry. 

"Could you now," said Joe, looking him up and down. 

"This is Mike's son and Larry's nephew." Max made the introductions. "Gerry this is Crazy Joe. You'll have heard of him." 

"Just Joe." He said holding out his hand. 

"You had better get back to your uncle." Max said to Gerry. 

"Alright I'm going." Gerry turned to Claudette. "Will I see you later?" 

"I've got something to do at home. What time will you close tonight?" She asked Max. 

"Ten o'clock." She replied without thinking. 

"You could walk me home." Claudette smiled at Gerry. 

"Yeah." Gerry smiled back. "We close then as well." 

Claudette walked outside the tent with him. 

"Only the hot food vans will be open after then." Joe observed, picking up and examining a symbol on a chain. "How much?" He asked. 

"Have it." Max smiled. 

He looked good, she thought. Hair and beard trimmed. His jeans and old denim top cleaned and pressed. Even the tattoo on his shoulder looked less angry. 

He smiled at her and her stomach did a somersault. Why was it that any man who'd had her always seemed to hold some sort of power over her? All he would have to say was I want you now and she'd have closed the tent and bent over a table inside thirty seconds. 

He didn't say it. 

"Are you sure? I know what he's charging this year." 

"Please. What brings you down this end anyway." 

"Just exercising Killer and I wanted to see who was here this year." 

"Is there any trouble?" Kelly asked from the entrance. "Those two who just left. They were swearing and making signs. They had a group of friends with them. I thought they were going to come back." 

"They won't be." Joe said with assurance. "You'd have been too late if there had been." 

Max thought he was going to say 'again'. 

"Anyway I must get back." Joe continued and walked to the entrance. "Look after yourself, Maxine." 

Max turned to Kelly. 

"I couldn't get away. Customers." He stammered. 

"It's alright nothing happened." 

Kelly stared at the ground. 

"Don't forget." Max started re-arranging some of the objects on the table. "You have to come across and hear my song one night." 

"I will." He promised. Looking out of the tent he saw a crowd forming at his van. "I must go. You're sure you are alright?" 

"I'm fine. I'll see you later." 

Claudette struck her head around the edge of the tent flap. 

"I need to go home for an hour." She said. "There's something I have to do." 

"Go on then." Max sat in one of the folding chairs by the card table with the large crystal ball in the middle that she used in her fortune telling. 

Trade was steady that evening. Claudette came back two hours later. First she stopped at Kelly's van with a carrier bag which she told Max had contained some butter spread that he had asked her to pick up for him. 

Ten o'clock came and Gerry arrived for Claudette. She had seemed excited about something all evening but Max put it down to her being in love. 

She closed up herself and contemplated helping Kelly but he had a woman from the town as his assistant in the evenings. It would be another hour before he closed and another half-hour before he cleaned up and finished for the day. 

She took her bonsai tree with her when she went back to her camper. She opened a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass to drink whilst she counted her takings, entered the total in her accounts, and locked them away in the strong box inside one of the bench seats at her table. 

She undid the top of her skirt and thrust out her legs under the table, wriggling her toes. This was a nice wine, she thought, and poured another glass full. A warm glow filled her being as the cares of the day seemed to seep from her. The warm feeling increased as she slipped her hand inside the front of her skirt and squeezed her fanny lips through her knickers. She opened her legs wider, feeling her lips part beneath her fingers. She rubbed down towards her anus then back to where her clit was crying out for attention. She closed her eyes as she gently squeezed it between two of her fingers. 

She looked towards her bed. Should she lie down? No. It was so nice sitting here. She closed her eyes again and slid her hand inside the waistband of her knickers, through her pubic hairs. 

There was a knock at the door. She sat bolt upright suddenly feeling guilty. She stood and fastened the button at the back of her skirt. 

"Who..." She started, then coughed, swallowed and asked again. "Who is it?" 

"It's me, Larry. Let me in." 

'Let him in' the itch between her legs seemed to scream. 'Send him away,' her conscience whimpered. 

She opened the door. 

Larry stood there holding the toy Ford Mustang in its box. 

"Well?" He asked. "Do you want it." 

'Yes' the itch inside her yelled. 

"You had better come in." 

Max retreated into her camper to stand by her bed. Larry entered, unable to stand upright inside the camper he sat on it. 

"Come here." He held out his hand to her. 

For a moment she hesitated then took it and allowed him to pull her down by his side. 

He placed his arm around her back and his hand on her hip. She tensed. He took her chin in his fingers and turned her face towards him. 

"You're not getting anything." Max could feel resolve weakening. Why couldn't she just say no? 

"You can have the Damm toy." He said. 

There. He'd given her a way out. Say no, take the toy and get rid of him. She reached up and pulled his mouth to her own. Opening her lips she probed between his with her tongue. His hand moved down to her breast as he sucked her tongue into his mouth, then he pushed it away with his own. She could feel her nipple hardening against the palm of his hand as he lifted her heavy breast and massaged it with his fingers. His other hand moved from her hip to the button on her skirt in the middle of her back. Her tummy sagged a little as he undid it. His fingers were at the waistband of her knickers, then inside them as he tried to force his hand beneath her ass cheeks. She shifted her weight to allow him access then gasped in pain as one of his fingers stabbed at her anus. He pushed with it again, trying to force it inside her hole. Her anus tightened and her ass cheeks clenched together. He removed his hand as he took his lips from hers. With both hands he unbuttoned the front of her blouse, sliding it over her shoulders and dropping it to the floor. Her bra quickly followed. He picked up a breast as if weighing it then lowered his mouth to the nipple and sucked hard. He moved his lips to her other breast, sucking half of it into his mouth then releasing it to lick along its underside. 




Travelling Folk Series Pt. 03



He pushed her onto her back. She lifted her hips to help him remove her skirt and knickers. She bent her knees, exposing herself to him. He pushed first one then a second finger inside her. Opening her as he worked them back and forth. With his other hand he unfastened his trousers and pulling them down to his knees with his underpants moved onto the bed to kneel between her legs. 

She looked down. He was still a very well built man. She could remember longer but none thicker. She took his prick in her hand as he took his fingers from her hole and moved over her. She held her lips open wide and guided him between them. Two thrusts and he was fully inside her, their pubic mounds banging together. He moved quickly in and out of her, staring straight ahead, not once looking into her eyes. He moved faster and she could feel the pressure building inside her. Faster still with short sharp movements. Her own pressure was increasing. Suddenly it peaked and her body was filled with a warm glow. She could feel him jerking inside her as his come hit the walls of her fanny. He stopped moving and pulled out. 

Pulling up his underpants and trousers he made his way to the door. She felt cheap and used. 

"By the way, Max." He said as he opened it. "Gerry tells me that Kelly has a Mustang now. Claudette found one in some piles of un-returned papers in her father's shop. Been there for years apparently." 

"You Bastard." She yelled then looked past him into Kelly's eyes. 

Kelly turned and walked away without a word. 

Max ran to the door despite her nakedness. 

"Kelly come back." She called after him. "Let me explain." 

Lights were being switched on in the campers and caravans around her. Curtains were twitching. Let them look. 

"Kelly come back here." 

He stopped and turned to face her. 

"What's to explain?" He shouted. 

Doors were opening and people were coming out to stand on their steps. 

"I did it for you." 

"I didn't want you to fuck him." 

People were talking. She heard the words tart and slut. Let them talk. She looked around. Larry had disappeared. 

Kelly walked back to her. 

"Get inside woman." He ordered. "Standing there bare assed naked like that." 

"I don't care." She said, but did as she was told. 

"Get yourself dressed." 

She picked up her skirt and blouse and put them on. Her knickers she shoved under her pillow. 

"I came to hear your song and show you this." He took a box from the carrier bag he was holding. The legend on its side read 'Cars from the Movies.' Beneath the cellophane window were the words ' Steve McQueens Ford Mustang from the film, Bullit.' 

He looked down to where an identical box lay. Bending, he picked it up. 

"Isn't it the way." He mused. "You wait years for one then two come along at once." 

Max lifted the top of the bench seat opposite her bed and took out her guitar. Kelly didn't seem to want to talk about Larry and that suited her fine. After all, its none of his business whom she makes love to. She suddenly felt anger towards him. If he hadn't come then Larry would have left and nobody would have known, including her neighbours. 

She looked at him. There was a tear in the corner of one of his eyes. She resisted the urge to pull him to her. To comfort him in any way she could. Instead she sat crossed legged on the head of her bed and strummed her guitar. 

"It's not really finished yet but here goes." She lifted her head and looked into his eyes as he sat on the end of her bed, still holding the two boxes. 

She started to sing. Softly at first, then louder, glancing down at her guitar as she changed chords. The words to the final verse just seemed to flow from her. 

"Shut up." Came a voice from the night. "We're trying to sleep here." 

She stopped and looked at Kelly. His eyes were on her open legs. With her skirt stretched tight across her thighs he must have a full view of her fanny. Let him look she just hoped she wasn't leaking any of Larry's come. 

He realised she was looking at him and turned his head away. 

"Sorry." He mumbled. 

"Don't be." Max placed her hand upon his shoulder. "I like you looking at me." 

They were both silent for a minute. Her thoughts were Carnal. She could only guess at his. 

"You hungry?" He suddenly asked. 

"Why?" Was he going to cook her a burger? 

"Fred's van is open all night tonight for those who are going to climb the Tor for the sunrise." 

She hadn't done that since her first year. 

"Let's," she suddenly said. 

She took a pair of shoes from the bottom of her small wardrobe. Glancing in the mirror as she stood up she saw Kelly's eyes on her ass. Yes, she liked him looking at her. 

Picking up her shawl she followed him to the door. Locking it behind her she handed him the keys. Putting them in his pocket he linked his arm with hers and they walked between the rows of stalls to the main road and turned towards the Tor. 

She looked at her watch. It was gone one. That still left over three hours until sunrise. 

An occasional vehicle passed them as they walked the mile or so to the foot of the hill on which the Tor stood. 

A group of twenty or so stood at Fred's van eating hot dogs or burgers and drinking tea and coffee. A few held cans of beer. 

Kelly ordered burgers and coffees from the man, in his early thirties, standing behind the counter. 

"Have you met Max, Fred?" Kelly asked, handing him up a note. 

"Seen her about," he replied, smiling down at them. 

He'd more than seen me, the bugger. Max thought, smiling back sat him. 

She took the coffee and burger that were handed down to her and walked with Kelly across the cattle grid and onto the hillside. The Tor was lit from below by a single floodlight. Looking up she could see people holding hands and dancing around it. She imagined that people had been dancing on this hillside for hundreds if not thousands of years. She thought back to her first visit to Glastonbury. She'd been one of the dancers then. Prancing naked in the early morning sun. High on emotion and Cannabis. Then later in their tent with Tom on top of her. It was the first time he'd had her. She could remember his face but little else. She'd supposed to have been sharing with a girlfriend. It was a long time ago. They climbed to one of the wooden benches set into the side of the hill and sat down. She ate and drank watching the lights of an occasional vehicle disappear along the main road to Street and Bridgwater below. 

She didn't remember it being this cold the last time. She pulled her shawl tightly about her shoulders whilst Kelly walked to a waste bin and dropped their rubbish into it. 

"Cold?" He asked, sitting by her side. 

"Bit." She replied. 

Kelly was wearing a thin sweater and a cotton shirt. She slid along the seat closer to him and he put his arm around her. She lay her head against his shoulder. 

A young girl was singing a love song in the distance. Her voice was clear and fresh. Max looked up at Kelly. 

"You alright?" She asked. 

"Fine, just fine." He replied, taking one of her hands in his and holding it on her lap. 

Some men were singing a rude, drunken song at the foot of the hill. Somebody yelled to them to shut up. After a few swear words they drifted away. Suddenly it was quiet. The breeze dropped and the hillside lay silent as if waiting. She must have nodded off for when she next opened her eyes the sky in front of her was noticeably lighter. 

She moved slightly. Oh. She felt stiff. She flexed the muscles in her legs then her ass cheeks. Kelly stirred beside her. She looked up into his eyes. 

"Okay?" He asked. 

"Bit stiff." 

"So am I." 

He released her hand and stood up. He helped her to stand and placed his arm around her waist as they watched the first angry rays of the sun appear and lighten the undersides of the few streaks of cloud the hung motionless in the sky. 

During the night the numbers on the side of the hill had grown into the hundreds. People were chanting around the Tor. Holding hands and dancing. She looked over her shoulder. Yes, some, mostly girls, were naked. 

Some people were clapping. Whether it was to applaud the wonder of a new day or in thankfulness at the ending of a night, she didn't know. 

Somebody started singing Jerusalem. It spread. More and more people joined in. Max did. Even Kelly, when they came to the parts with Chariots and spears. The bright orange disc of the sun appeared over the horizon and the singing stopped. The side of the hill was lit, momentarily, with a soft glow. People turned to look at the Tor. The soft Limestone shining bright yellow for a few seconds then returning to its normal grey. 

Max took Kelly's hand. 

"Come on." She said. "Let's go." 

"What? Back to..." 

"No. I have a flat in Town. It's my base. I have a lockup as well." 

"Right." 

They walked hand in hand to the bottom of the hill. Refusing Fred's offer of another coffee she led him into the centre of the town then out again to a flat above a Drapers shop. In the large courtyard at the rear two parking spaces in front of a large, stone built garage, had been marked 'Max'. 

She asked him for her keys and selecting one turned it in the lock of a door at the rear of the building. The door opened onto a flight of stairs and she led the up the flat above. 

The front door opened onto a short corridor that led to the living room. The door into her kitchen was on one side, to the toilet the other. "I need the loo." She said. 

"So do I," he replied. 

"Me fist." She said opening the door. "I know what you men are like. Go straight ahead." 

Fuck it. She swore to herself as she lifted her skirt and sat on the seat. Why not print a sign and hang it around my neck. Maxine. Thirty-eight years of age. Thirty-four users. 

She wiped, flushed and washed her hands. Drying them on the towel in the ring by the sink she used the fresh air spray and walked into the living room. 

"Toilets free," she said. "I going to have a quick shower." 

She could have added that she still felt dirty from Larry. 

As Kelly left to use the toilet she opened the door to the former broom cupboard that a former lover had converted into a shower room. Floors and walls tiled with surplus stock from a building site he worked on. The shower cubicle was constructed from the finest materials even down to gold plated taps. 

She turned one of them now and dropped her clothes to the floor before stepping naked under the stream of water, closing the cubicle door behind her and soaping her body all over. 

Replacing the bar of soap in its dish she allowed the water to run down her body taking the soapsuds and Larry with them. 

Kelly stood by the front window overlooking the street, watching the occasional passer by. Max, a large towel wrapped around her body came up behind him and resting her chin on his shoulder wrapper her arms around his waist. 

He turned to face her. She let the towel fall to the ground and stood before him, naked. He looked her up and down then reached out and felt one of her breasts. She ran her fingers down the side of his face then knelt before him unzipping his jeans and pulling out his prick. She ran her fingers up and down its length then pulled his foreskin back and released it. Undoing the button on his jeans she pulled them to the floor then, with difficulty over his erect prick, his underpants. Working his foreskin back and forth again she took the end of his prick into her mouth. He moved his hips in time with her as her lips moved back and forth along his shaft. She heard him take a deep breath then her head was jerked backwards with force of his come hitting the back of her throat. She swallowed, it was followed by a second load then a third, she swallowed again, and a forth, would it never end, and a fifth. She swallowed again as he pulled out of her mouth. 

"I'm sorry." He stammered. 

"What for?" She asked, licking her lips as she stood up. 

"For in your mouth." 

"You've done nothing to be sorry about. I wanted it there." 

"But Mary would never." He stopped. 

"But I would. I can't replace her. I'm me. Get out of those clothes." 

He stepped from his jeans and underpants whilst she pulled off his sweater and unbuttoned his shirt. Finally he stood there in just his socks. 

"You haven't got cold feet?" Max asked over her shoulder as she headed for the bedroom. 

Kelly hopped from foot to foot in his efforts to remove them and follow her at the same time. 

By the time he reached the bedroom Max lay on her back on top of the mattress. Kelly knelt on the bed between her legs and with his hands behind her knees bent her legs exposing her fanny and anus. He kissed the back of each thigh then each ass cheek in turn. He remained still for a few seconds, breathing in the aroma of an aroused woman before placing his lips against her fanny and pushing his tongue inside her. Max jerked as if she had been shot. Breathing deeply she ran her fingers through his hair as he first licked one side then the other. She moaned out loud when his tongue first touched her clit. She pulled him closer to her. Then with her feet on his shoulders pushed him away. Pulling and pushing at him as he drove her up the steep hill of pleasure until with a cry on her lips he sent her over the top. 

She opened her eyes and looked up into his. She could feel his prick banging at her entrance and reached down between their bodies to spread her lips for his entry. She gasped as he filled her with one thrust. Wrapping her arms and legs around him as he moved in and out. Clenching at his prick with her fanny. Gasping and crying as she came again, then again. Then the jerking of his prick as he pumped his come inside her. 

She closed her eyes and fell asleep in his arms. 

It was one o'clock when she opened them next. She could feel the tip of Kelly's prick between her ass cheeks. Just touching her anus. It felt nice. She felt so warm. At some time he must have covered them both with a sheet. Nice of him. He moved slightly. She could feel her anus opening slightly. There was a short stab of pain then he pulled back. She lifted her leg, reached behind her and guided him inside her fanny. She held his hand to her breast as he moved slowly in and out of her. This was nice. He quickened. Let him. She didn't want to come. She was happy to lie there and be used by him. She could feel him breathing into her hair. Heard him gasp as his prick jerked inside her. They lay joined together. Neither of them moving. Then he pulled slowly out of her. 

"I need the toilet." He said climbing from the bed. 

Max didn't answer or move. She wanted to stay like this forever. 

She heard the doorbell ring. The toilet flushed. She heard Kelly moving in the living room. She imagined him hurriedly dressing. She wasn't going to move. The doorbell rang again. 

"I'll get it." Kelly called. 

She turned onto her back and stretched. She felt wonderful. 

She heard voices in the living room and Kelly came back into the bedroom carrying her clothes. 

"What's up?" She asked. "Who is it?" 

Kelly dropped her clothes onto the bed by her side. 

"It's the police." He said. 

Max quickly dressed and followed Kelly into the living room. 

"Somebody has broken into your caravan." The policeman said, reading from his notebook. "They couldn't get inside your strongbox." 

Max breathed a sigh of relief. 

"What they did do." The policeman continued. "They broke a guitar, destroyed a small tree and crushed two toy cars." 

Max looked at Kelly. 

"I'm so sorry." She said. 

"It doesn't matter any more." He smiled back. "The constable will give us a lift back to the site." 

"But your cars." 

"It really doesn't matter." Kelly took her hand in his. "Come on. I'll make you a burger."