Chapter 8

June came to an end and July arrived. The festival would take place on the Saturday, the Fifth.

Marianne said, "Plan on having the whole of the following week off, Simon. I expect we'll be partying all over the weekend, and you'll definitely want Monday off — and I'd like to be able to spend time with you all that week. Besides, you deserve some time off after what you've been through, you hero you!"

Simon had waved off the last part, but had put in for the leave anyway. To his relief his request had been granted without a murmur — he really didn't want to face Marianne if her wishes had been thwarted. That he might have been given the leave because he'd saved the life of a fellow fireman didn't enter his head.

All was set for Simon, Marianne and Caroline to go to Knebworth — except transport. Simon hadn't thought of it at all, and when Caroline asked, "How are we getting there?" Marianne and Simon looked at each other in horror.

"I could ask John if we could borrow his car," Simon suggested after a moment. "He's not supposed to drive it at the moment anyway after that concussion."

So Simon hared off to see John. "Sure, no problem," he said, and readily handed over his keys. "Just, please, be careful with her?"

"Of course I will, John!" Simon assured him. "I know how much you dote on that car!"

That settled, with more assurances from Simon that he'd look after John's car, he carefully drove home.

"Mum says we ought to go and stay overnight at Aunt Jennifer's, she lives really close to Knebworth, within walking distance of the site, actually," Marianne told Simon the next morning. "It'll mean we can drop the car off there and not worry about parking it."

Simon immediately agreed. "Good. That way it won't be in a car park full of drunken drivers bashing into everything and not even leaving a note! I must admit I was worried about that. How close is your Aunt's place?"

"It's just a couple of miles — a small village called Rabley Heath. Aunt Jennifer bought a little cottage there after she and Uncle Pat got divorced."

"Yeah! Uncle Pat was a no-good so-and-so, he hit Aunt Jenny!" Caroline piped up.

"Then he went and took almost all the money, too. I never liked him either, Cari. But Jenny's cool." She turned to Simon and added, "You'll like her, I know. She looks like an older version of me and Cari."

Not knowing quite how to react to that, Simon chose humour. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea. I might get into the wrong bed."

Marianne grinned at him. "She'd like that. Aunt Jenny's got similar needs to mine, and no husband to help her out."

Caroline looked a little shocked at Marianne's words, and told her, "She wouldn't try to steal your boyfriend, Marianne!"

"No, but she might ask me if I'd care to share. What would you say to that, Simon?"

"I'd say I was your boyfriend, Marianne."

"Corrrrect answer!" she told him — and gave him a wonderful kiss!

Simon, Marianne and Caroline arrived at Rabley Heath at tea-time on Friday. The festival was the next day.

The cottage was a small, white painted house, with an equally small, well-tended garden to the front. There was room to park the car on the driveway, so Simon parked John's mini in front of the garage door and cut the engine.

Marianne grinned widely at him, opened her door, got out and held the seat up so that Caroline could emerge from behind her. Simon locked the doors behind them and walked after the twins as they skipped along the path to their Aunt's back door.

"Hi Mari! Hi Cari!" he heard as he rounded the corner.

Jennifer was, as Marianne had said, an older version of the twins. She looked to be in her mid-forties and had rounded out a little, but the resemblance was striking. The same curly dark hair, the same heart-shaped face, and those same wonderfully sparkling grey eyes. She smiled and held her hand out to greet Simon.

"You'll be Marianne's boyfriend, I take it?" she asked him, drawing him in and giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Yes ma'am, that's me. Simon Cook."

"Well it's wonderful to meet you, Simon. Come in, everybody, I'll make some tea."

So a while later the three women and Simon were sitting in Jennifer's small but cosy front room. It was tastefully cluttered in shades of cream and brown, with photographs of horses and family, mementos of places visited, and commemorative plates from various events.

After bringing in the tray with the delicate china cups and Rich Tea biscuits, the twins' Aunt said, "The whole village is abuzz with rumours about the concert this year. There were all sorts of things supposed to be going on last time, and they say it'll be worse this year."

"Oh, what sort of things?" Marianne asked with a smirk.

"Drink, drugs... and inappropriate behaviour," Jennifer told her with a straight face, before dissolving into laughter. "You should hear some of the old maids. 'Nothing like it in my day!' they say. What they're forgetting is that, really, all the same things were going on — just hidden under the carpet, and often the poor girls concerned got in the family way and were sent away, poor things."

"Barbarians," Caroline said.

"Yes, but people of their time. Things happened, they just weren't spoken of," Jennifer said.

The conversation continued around him, and Simon sat there, unable to say a word. Jennifer broke open a bottle of wine, pouring for all four of them. He took it all in, disbelieving. Just how open were these people? He couldn't imagine a conversation like this with his relatives! Though he noticed a difference; while Marianne and her Aunt were quite comfortable talking about that ('Sex!' his inner editor insisted. 'It's Sex — why don't you relax a bit?'), Caroline was quiet.

Talk eventually turned to other subjects, and Simon joined in rather more. Another bottle was produced, opened, and consumed. He wondered if it was just the alcohol that was making everyone so free and open, allowing the two girls and the older lady to talk about sex, politics, sex, religion, sex and just about any other subject seemingly without inhibition. He remembered earlier in the evening, and concluded that it wasn't — they really were this open. It wasn't what he was used to in his own home — his father was very much of the older mould, while his mother seemingly went along with him.

It was to his surprise when Jennifer announced that it was already after half-past ten, and she was going to bed.

"Girls, you have the spare room, of course. Simon, I'll fetch you a couple of blankets and a pillow, — you get the couch, I'm afraid."

Simon was drifting in that stream-of-consciousness state just before sleep when he became aware that he wasn't alone on the couch.

It was pitch dark, even after his eyes sprang open he couldn't really see anything. He came back to full alertness when he felt hands on the underwear he was wearing — well, he couldn't sleep naked on someone else's couch, could he? — and his manhood lay revealed. The next thing he felt was soft lips kissing his cockhead, then a warm, wet tongue lapping at him. He rapidly hardened and started to say something but felt a finger on his lips, and kept quiet.

The lips and tongue went back to work, joined now by an expert hand. Simon found himself being brought towards a peak quickly, but then kept just short. His hips moved of their own accord, his hands went to the girl's head to force himself home, but she expertly backed off, and took his hands in hers, laying them by his side. Once more she went to work on him, bringing him to the edge of ecstasy but not over it, holding him there for a while. Dimly Simon was aware that he could only feel one hand, and realised that the other was busy elsewhere.

Finally she went rigid around his cock, taking him deeply. He could feel her straining, tense like a bowstring in the dark, and when she moaned the vibrations set him off, pumping away into her mouth. She went limp against him and he, too, relaxed his muscles, finding that he'd almost lifted himself into a wrestler's bridge, his buttocks inches off the sofa, heels and shoulders digging deeply into the blanket covered soft upholstery.

His visitor crawled lazily up to kiss his face. "Thanks, Simon!" he heard Jennifer's low voice, before she kissed him lightly and rolled off him to the floor.

In shock he felt rather than saw or heard her lithely come fluidly to her feet and move off in the darkness. He heard her bedroom door snick shut, while he laid there, heart pounding, waiting for the sleep that had once been so close but was now a distant objective.

Morning came, and Simon woke. He groggily came to the conclusion that he'd slept despite himself.

What had really happened last night? Had it been a dream? His underwear was bunched up, pulled partway down his thighs. It really had happened.

Blearily he wiped his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. He pulled his underwear back up and yawned, stretching. Just then he heard voices in the corridor and the door opened. Marianne and Caroline walked in.

"My, don't you look lovely this morning?" grinned Marianne, and Caroline giggled.

No witty retort coming to mind, Simon grunted and quickly got dressed. Having both his beautiful girlfriend and her twin sister watching him ought to have aroused him, especially as they made appreciative noises, but embarrassment and guilt were overriding his lust. By a long way.

Caroline left to help her Aunt with setting out breakfast, and Marianne sat next to her boyfriend on the sofa. They sat in silence for a moment, then Simon yawned, mightily.

"Didn't sleep well, huh?" she asked him.

"Er, no, er, not well at all. I er, woke up in the middle of the night."

Marianne's expression grew more concerned.

"Oh, Simon, are you getting nightmares? You should have said something!"

"No! Well, I mean, sometimes, but not last night. No, I, er, I just woke up, and couldn't get back to sleep afterwards."

Just then the door opened and Jennifer popped her head through.

"Breakfast will be ready in a couple of minutes. Hungry, Simon?" she asked, face innocent.

Simon blushed. Marianne turned away from him to ask her Aunt if she could have some toast, offering to help, but Jennifer laughed, and told her that she'd already helped enough.

Getting through the meal was agony for Simon. How could he tell his girlfriend that her aunt had sucked him off? He was anxious and quiet, and in the end Marianne pulled her aunt into a whispered conversation. Then she grabbed Simon and pulled him into the room she'd shared with her sister overnight.

"Simon," she told him quietly but firmly, "this has gone on long enough." Marianne looked him directly in the eye, put her hands on her hips and went on, "I'm sorry. I should have asked if you'd mind beforehand, I just didn't think you would."

Simon's jaw dropped as she went on, "Aunt Jen asked me if I'd mind lending you to her last night, and I told her she could. She said she just wanted to suck you, not full sex — she seemed to think that wouldn't be right. She told me that's what happened, and that you seemed to be all right with it — is that correct, Simon?"

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew! She wouldn't have done that otherwise!"

"You could have asked me!" he shouted, angrily.

Marianne closed the distance between them and put her arms around him, face lifted for a kiss. Despite his anger he felt himself responding to her touch. He met her lips.

After a long moment she pulled back and laid her cheek on his.

"I know I should have asked first, Simon. I really am sorry. But it was just as we were going to bed, and I really didn't think you'd object!"

Marianne's aunt spoke up from the doorway, where she'd appeared unnoticed by the pair.

"I'm sorry, too, Simon. I shouldn't have done it. I took advantage of you."

Simon and Marianne broke apart and turned to look at Jennifer. It was obvious she'd been crying.

Marianne went to her aunt. Simon hung back, thinking.

"You know, what bothered most was not being asked, but what bothered me first was that Marianne wouldn't like it. Obviously, that's not a problem!"

"Obviously!" Marianne interjected.

"Okay. You and I can talk later, in private," he told Marianne, "But you..." he said, turning to Jennifer, "well I guess I should say 'thank you'. I can't say I didn't enjoy it, and I guess you did too."

"Yes, I did. But —"

"Then let's leave it at that between us, Jennifer. Let's not do, or say, anything to make things more complicated."

Marianne reached for Simon's hand and pulled him back into the front room. Caroline was there, face blank.

Jennifer wiped her eyes and looked at Simon with relief and a small smile. "You get your dick sucked in the middle of the night, and you react like I'd slapped you. Are you sure you're a young man?"