Chapter 66

According to my memory of that summer working at the frozen vegetable factory forty years ago, the very worst thing about July 1974 was that the number one hit single in the UK was the fifty-year-old Charles Aznavour crooning 'She' – for four weeks in succession.

I'd got fairly fed up with its syrupy stickiness before we'd finished at Cardiff, and the ageing French lothario was still on Radio One several times a day. I admit that it was pleasant to have the radio on in the background when doing such repetitive work as washing and cleaning vegetables, but I cringed each time he came on.

Don't get me wrong – Julie and I loved hearing the song again when it was used in the soundtrack of the film 'Notting Hill' a few years back, but constant repetition of the saccharine version overlaid with the French accent – and the fake accents of the radio disk jockeys taking the piss out of the Frogs – had been nauseating.

Mind you, earlier in the year had been even worse, with 'Seasons in the Sun' followed by 'Waterloo' in the top spot. It's a sad thing to say at the tender age of twenty that you are too old for 'pop' music, but that's how it felt that summer!

(Not that I've got anything against 'Abba', but Radio One played 'Waterloo' so often in the weeks after they won the Eurovision Song Contest that I got heartily sick of it at the time. Even Vee started turning off her transistor radio for a few minutes when she wasn't in the mood!)

Apart from the niggle about the background music, everything was running pretty smoothly. The schoolkids had buckled down and learned to do their work, which took quite a bit of the pressure off us, and the ten of us were normally cleaning up the line ready for the next morning by about nine o'clock at night, staying on after everyone else had left the site.

We normally had a short sing-song with Fred playing his guitar, or a couple of hands of cards, or just chatted over a cuppa and some toast, before we used the showers and headed for bed. We could chat to our friends all day over the vegetable line, so we didn't need much leisure time – although we lads did occasionally mutter that a decent pint of beer wouldn't go amiss!

We quickly settled into a routine on the housekeeping; it had been arrranged that Mum would come over once a week with some extra treats and supplies and some laundry, which helped a great deal, but most of the time we were self-sufficient. Mavis in the canteen was generous with supplies of bread and milk, and we were getting two good meals a day in return for an hour's pay, which was actually a pretty generous deal on the part of Mr Johnston – but then, he did have us living on site and able to respond to any need for workers earlier or later than normal hours – like the cleaning up every evening!

The laundry of the coveralls and bedsheets went smoothly; every Wednesday the van came in from Bourne to take away our dirties and bring back the freshly washed ones. The driver even showed us how to change the blue roller towels in the changing rooms; the machines weren't all that complicated once you got the cover lifted up, and being able to pop a clean roll in certainly beat having a couple of days of having to all use the leftover tail of a used one.

We even found a solution for paying in our wages to our banks – we all had brought both chequebooks and paying-in slip books, and it was easily arranged that Mr Johnston's book-keeper paid in our wages when he collected the cash from the bank on payday – it saved a couple of us taking a good two hours off work to go into town ourselves. So pretty much everything in the garden was rosy, if you discounted the small cuts and the sore fingers that were almost inevitable working with knives and water.

Sheila and I had enjoyed each other most nights since her period ended, but the need to keep quiet so that we didn't disturb the others had erased any special sense of passion or excitement, and it had almost become a formality, with Sheila gently riding me to reach her release and bring me mine before we slept. If I was on top, the bed normally creaked or we bumped against the thin walls, so we found it best if Sheila did what was necessary to get her climax, as it normally gave Gustav his happy ending too.

My love life received a welcome boost on Wednesday 17^th. Reading Julie's diary entry for that day, she thought so too!

It had been a lovely July day, and for a change we had finished work at about half past seven with no more loads coming in from the fields after four o'clock; the annual Peterborough Show was on at the East of England Showground, and Mr Johnston reckoned that a number of farmers had sloped off early from the fields, to meet old friends and enjoy a few glasses of beer as they watched the displays in the central arena. He suggested that the Thursday and Friday would also be affected; most farming families would have at least one day out at the Show, and those who had volunteered to be Stewards, or were Members of the East of England Agricultural Society, would attend all three days. We didn't mind; after fifteen long days on the trot, it would be pleasant to have some time in the evening to ourselves, rather than just falling into bed around eleven exhausted.

Everyone else had left for the day, and we had all stripped off our work overalls to reveal the light cotton shorts and t-shirts that were all that we wore underneath, partly because the weather was so warm, and partly to reduce the burden of hand-washing our jeans and shirts. It didn't take 20/20 or X-Ray vision to know that none of the girls were wearing a bra - they had discovered the first night that even a soft cotton bra caused too much sweat to pool on tender skin, and that they were best to let their breasts breathe in such a moist atmosphere as the vegetable washing line. The military-surplus coveralls we had been issued were baggy and left plenty to the imagination, even for a big girl like Sian, so not even the most eager of the schoolkids ever got to see anything interesting on the line. Amongst ourselves, there was no great need for prudity.

The sun was still fairly high in the sky, and we ate our supper outside the caravan on the long trestle table that Mr Johnson had kindly provided so that we could all eat together – the small kitchen table in the caravan certainly wouldn't seat ten; it was mostly used for half a dozen of us to play a game of cards before we went to bed, if we had the time and the inclination. The caravan was often hot and stuffy after having been shut up for the day, even with the narrow windows left open, and it wasn't until we could fasten the door back after work that the air started circulating. We were just glad that we were on the east side of the building and therefore shaded from some of the worst heat of the day.

Once we had all finished eating, Sian and Malcolm collected the dishes as it was their turn to return them to the canteen trolley, Vee and Fred decided to turn in early (which we suspected meant that Vee was feeling horny) and Jen quietly suggested that the Six Musketeers go for a walk, and hopefully a swim, if we could find a suitable pool in the stream which ran across the fields.

The men were each given two big towels to carry, and Jen led us out past Dan the nightwatchman at the gate, and off towards 'our' hayfield. The moon was coming up, and it looked like it was going to be a lovely clear night.

Once we were out of earshot of the factory, Jen explained the actual purpose to Julie and Sheila.

"Now we've been here over a fortnight, I thought it would be a nice change to swap around a bit; in the caraven we're all having to stay in our couples so as not to offend Malcolm or Fred, and I know Hamish would really like a go with one of you two?"

"Sounds good to me; Julie, who do you want?"

"I'll have Hamish first, please, you can have your twin and Jen can have her brother, and you can all get that incestuous excitement out of your systems for a bit! Then, once we've had a bit of a bathe, I'm going to catch up with Jon."

It didn't take long to stroll to our destination. The grass hadn't yet been cut again for the second hay crop, but was beginning to reach the right height, and we enjoyed the swishing feeling on our shins as we moved through the first field from the road.

Jen and I took our towels over the stream into the next field, and quickly stripped off our shoes, t-shirts and shorts. Neither of us was wearing any underwear beneath that; it was far too hot working in the compulsory factory coveralls to wear unnecessary layers.

I moved close and put my arms around her, pulling her boobs into my chest as we hugged.

"I'm going to be all sweaty, my darling, I'm sorry if I'm smelly."

"So am I – but it seemed a waste of time to shower before coming out here. Let me have a quick whiff of you, I can always put you in the stream for a bath if it's too bad!"

Jen sniffed my shoulder, and then lifted my arm to test the smell of my armpit.

"Actually, big brother, it's all you, and it's not a bad smell in the least. I think I could get to like it, it's very masculine."

I lifted her arm in turn, and put my nose in her armpit. Her natural musk was certainly doing its job of stimulating my natural instincts, because Gustav gave a twitch as I inhaled it.

"Oh, wow, Sis, that really does it for me! Look at Gustav, he's gone completely rigid! He's obviously received a very positive message via my nose!"

"What, that I'm dying to feel him shooting deep inside me? He should know that by now!"

"Are you moist enough yet?"

"I can't tell whether it's sweat or lubrication! Be a darling and check for me!"

I reached down as she lifted one leg, gently ran my forefinger between her labia, and brought it to my mouth to taste. Her juices tasted a little stronger and gamier than normal, but were still delicious. I picked up another drop and put my finger in her mouth, so that she could savour her own nectar.

"Mmmm, that seems to be the right stuff! I'm not surprised, I have been thinking about the possibility of getting a proper seeing-to since we got off work early; I've found it a bit tedious having to keep quiet in the caravan. Hamish and I haven't done any experimenting at all since we got here!"

"Well, my darling sister, I hope you've come to the right person! I'd love to give you a 'proper seeing-to' while we make mad passionate love together!"

I gave her a long lingering kiss, and then she lay down on our towels, and opened her legs wide to give Gustav a chance to get his whole length inside her. I got down into position, and she guided him all the way in before bending her legs around my back. I gave her a few moments to get used to him, and then started moving.

She was nice and wet. There would certainly be no requirement for foreplay, and neither of us were in the mood to drag things out. It was no problem probing her with slow full-length strokes which rippled the soft tissue as my foreskin pushed its way through the warmth. Her labia stood out as I withdrew, and then almost disappeared inside her as my balls banged against her bottom.

"God, you feel good, Sis! I can really feel your muscles clutching at Gustav!"

"Yup, I've been practising my Kegel exercises. I can't quite yet make Hamish come without him moving, but that's the stage I'm trying to get to!"

"I think that will be too much for me! I'm not sure that I'm going to last long enough this time, you'll have to pinch me off before I come!"

"Let me give you a blow-job, then, and we can start afresh once you haven't come."

I gave her vagina another twenty strokes for luck, and then pulled out. I lay back on the towel and she sat up beside me.

"If you stand up, I'll deep throat you!"

"No way!"

She could, and she did!

Gustav's head went all the way past her tonsils, and her nose went into my pubic hair. I couldn't believe it!

The sensation was incredible. My sister's throat enveloped Gustav's sensitive head, and the feel of her lips nibbling his base was completely new to me. I could feel my balls suddenly boiling up.

"Oh fuck, I'm about to come!"

She quickly spat out my cock, grabbing it with one hand on the head and placing the fingers and thumb of her other hand around the base, and squeezed hard.

"Ouch!"

But it did the trick; I instantly lost the urge to ejaculate. My legs were wobbly and I sat down next to her with a bit of a thump.

"God, Sis, that was incredible! I never thought you'd manage the whole length!"

"I wasn't sure either, you're a bit thicker than Hamish, but I've finally managed to learn not to gag, and I thought it was worth a go. Remind me sometime, when we're not in so much of a hurry, and I'll let you come down my throat – it's a bit of a waste of your delicious juice, but you ought to experience it once in your life. Hamish got so excited the first time I did it to him that he didn't even go soft afterwards!"

I leant over to kiss her, more of an affectionate token than a sign of passion.

"You're amazing, Sis, and I do love you so much!"

"I love you too, big brother, and now it's your turn to make me come!"

I changed the kiss to one of passionate tongue-duelling; then she lay back on the towel, and Gustav and I put on a very special performance, which had her shrieking her orgasm to the world three times, before I too yelled out as the white heat scorched up from my balls, shot through Gustav's thin tube, and plastered the entrance to her womb with the first of a good half-dozen ropes of my seed.

God, I'd missed being able to drive into a woman – with no creaky bed or thin walls to worry about, I could do my best for a change. I had even got Jen to put one of her feet up on my shoulder, to give me the best possible access to go hard and deep.

After coming, I collapsed onto her, and kissed her as passionately as I could, between our desperate pants for breath to refill our depleted lungs. She clung on to me as her vagina spasmed yet again around my still-spurting cock. Its hungry clasping and clinging onto Gustav seemed to go on forever, her internal reflexes desperately striving to get my seed to where it was needed.

Technically our coupling had been excellent, thanks mainly to Jen's skill at moving with me, but we had both been so intent on pleasing the other and demonstrating the strength of our love, that it shot straight to Number One in my chart.