© 2001 Charmbrights Ltd. All rights reserved.
The author has asserted the moral rights under sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Carol and Jeremy
Coming away from the ante-natal clinic after a check-up four weeks before her second baby was due, Carol looked down, a little wistfully, as she eased her bulk into the car.
'Will I ever see my feet again?' she wondered.
'Nonsense,' she chided herself, 'A month from now I will have my baby to feed and most of my figure back.'
She remembered the joy of feeding her first baby and her surprise when the milk flow almost gave her an orgasm only hours after he had been born, three years earlier. As she sat behind the wheel the change of position pressed the weight of her unborn child against her clitoris, and a twinge of desire coursed through her body. Once again she regretted that Jeremy, her husband, was too thoughtful and too careful. When she had had a craving for yoghurt and carrot sandwiches a few weeks earlier he had been happy to oblige, but now she craved sex he was much too solicitous of the welfare of both the baby and her. He had read somewhere that sex in the last few weeks of pregnancy was risky, so he would not even let her suck him when what she craved was a good fucking.
As she started the car, the engine stuttered a little, but she took no notice, absorbed as she was with thoughts of sex. She caught herself eyeing every man she saw and imagining him naked and with an impossibly huge prick which was in her mouth, cunt or arse. Sometimes there were two or three men at once.
Why she should have these fantasies she could not fathom. She had had a full and happy sex life until now, and had been faithful to Jeremy ever since she first met him. Their sex was conventional, to say the least; ninety percent of the time they were content with conventional fucking, missionary or doggy, and most of the rest was fellatio. Only occasionally did Jeremy want her arse, and she always let him have it, provided he oiled her and his prick well first. It didn't hurt, although she never found it the sort of turn-on that doggy style in her cunt, with a hand on her clitoris, was.
As she drove along the stuttering in the engine became more pronounced, with it cutting in and out unpredictably for a few seconds every now and again. She cursed silently and resolved to take the short cut, through the back streets of a run-down inner city area which would save her ten minutes on the drive.
Then it happened.
On a quiet street, lined with houses in varying states of disrepair, the engine cut out completely and would not restart!
She released the bonnet catch, got out of the car, opened the bonnet and stared at the engine. As she did so, she wondered why she bothered; she didn't understand the first thing about internal combustion engines, but it seemed the right thing to do. Just then she became aware of someone else beside her on the pavement.
"What seems to be the trouble, lady?" a voice asked.
Turning, she saw an elderly white-haired negro looking at her quizzically. He seemed harmless and, indeed, avuncular.
"Do you know anything about cars?" she asked, "Mine has stopped. It was... I don't know... sort of burping as I came along."
"Sounds like fuel trouble to me," said the old man, "Me and my sons run a garage about half a mile away. If you like we can tow you down there and fix it for you."
"Would you?" she asked, instinctively know that this old man could be trusted, and at the same time somehow hoping that he would hug her like a father and make it all better.
He waved across the road to a car with two younger black men in it and one of them pulled across and parked just in front of her car.
"What is it, dad?" he asked.
Carol noticed the likeness at once; this was a father and his two sons, who were about her age.
"Fuel blockage, most likely. One of you steer the lady's car and we'll tow it down to the garage for her."
The second son got out of their car and tied a tow-rope on to both cars, then he got into the driving seat of hers.
"You get in here," the old man invited, opening the back door of their car for her.
After she was comfortably ensconced, he nipped round to the other side and slipped into the seat beside her.
"I don't know how to thank you," she said, near to tears in her hormonally mixed-up state.
"Just don't you worry, lady. Me and Bill and Ben will have it fixed in a jiffy," he answered.
She felt a wave of trust and gratitude flow over her, and laid her head on his shoulder with the occasional tear spilling down her cheeks.
"No need to worry," he said, quietly.
It seemed to her the most natural thing in the world as his left arm came round her shoulder and held her to him in a comforting way. As his fingers slipped under her arm and on to the side of her left breast, she felt a quick flush of desire and rested her right hand on his thigh.
Encouraged by this, his fingers began to caress the side curves of her breast and she automatically burrowed deeper into his shoulder, allowing his hand to reach on to the undercurves of her swollen tit and round to the nipple. The same movement lifted her hand on to the bulge in his trousers and she felt a comforting and desirable twitch from beneath the cloth. Just then they arrived at the garage and she let out a sigh of regret as the finger contacts at his groin and her nipple were broken.
"You come in the house and have a cup of tea while the boys look at the car," the old man suggested.
Carol glanced over at the two boys, who were already under the bonnet checking the engine. She could not help another twinge of desire as she saw two well-padded arses sticking in the air.
Moving into the house, they were greeted by a young black woman about her own age who said, "Hello, I'm Chrystal, Ben's wife. What's happened?"
"Her car broke down," explained the old man, "and the boys are looking at it."
Turning to Carol, he said, "You sit down and Chrystal will bring us some tea."
Sitting where he gestured, on the settee, Carol was unsurprised when he sat next to her and put his arm round her shoulders. The other hand started gently to unbutton her blouse, but she stayed his hand with a gesture.
"What about Chrystal?" she whispered.
"I'll send her out to the boys," he said, "that is, unless you want them to join us?"
"Mmmm," she murmured and nodded her head slightly, suddenly feeling a twinge of desire at the thought.
Just then, one of the boys came in and said, "Got it. The choke rod arm has snapped and the butterfly valve is flapping loose."
"Oh dear," said Carol, touching his arm caressingly "Is that serious?"
.... There is more of this story ...