The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face
Chapter 9

Copyright© 2014 by mthommotoo

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 9 - I heard an old favourite song on the car radio and this is what transpired. It is what happens when two unusual people meet and are the perfect match. The third odd bod was a complete surprise to improve on perfection. This is a story of true unbreakable love. All in perfect Australian English as usual.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   NonConsensual   Drunk/Drugged   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Humor   Tear Jerker   Group Sex   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Oral Sex   Petting   Pregnancy   Size  

Graham

Thirteen days after the furnace reline begins I receive the message from a site I had hoped I never would.

Man killed on site.

It only occurred minutes ago, during the night shift, and I receive the SMS about two AM on Saturday morning. Now, not one of my workers is answering their phones. The power station isn't picking up and the message comes from Chris, whose phone is now turned off. I wake Carolyn, who has her quite large baby bump snuggled into me, with her arm around both Tobi and me. That wakes Deborah who's snuggled into her back, to tell them what's going on. After I move Tobi to the bed I run to the car to hasten up there, pulling my shirt on as I climb into the driver's door. My fly is still down and I'm otherwise commando. My boots and yesterday's socks I throw onto the passenger seat floor. I ring the boss on the car phone using Bluetooth to keep me moving faster, and he curses me for a minute until I can bring him up to date. He lives at Aberglasslyn, basically on the way, and he's standing outside his front door holding his boots and pants waistband in one hand, doing up his fly with the other, his shirt hanging free, wide open, much the same as mine is.

He has his phone to his ear as he climbs in, and he's swearing something fierce, due to not receiving any replies. One might think it's two thirty in the morning and they're all asleep; well it is a possibility isn't it? I am almost dry of fuel in the main tank, but this beast has a small spare tank and there's one of the petrol stations open where I have to wait for two trucks-and-dogs* to finish filling, pay and get away from the sole diesel pump, which gives me time to put on my boots and do up my shirt, and whoops, my fly. It's March, early autumn, and beginning to cool at night, but luckily I carry a small wardrobe in the back, which is what Mitchy use to use as a bed. The traffic is as bad as usual, the only reason I can get back into the traffic is the round-about leading into the petrol station. To blokes in the twenty four hour shift roster, four thirty Saturday is just another day and time.

* A truck-and-dog is a tip truck of the larger type, with a trailer of usually equal size or a touch smaller, which also tips off the back. There's an art in tipping each without causing trouble, requiring the need to intentionally jack-knife the trailing 'dog'.

I save a lot of conversation with the boss by showing him the message I received, and say I know nothing else. Luckily my distant-semi-half-brother doesn't have that kind of sense of humour, so I immediately believed him. The boss doesn't know him like I do, so he of course questions the validity of the message. My reply's short and terse, to the point of being crude and the boss is showing major signs of stress so I don't carry on like a pork chop because he's not coping with the stress.

There's little conversation between us for the rest of the way, and he's dozing off and on, which after two hours of driving I wish I was too. We arrive at the turn off from the New England Highway at four thirty and there're cops sealing all entrances at the off-ramp. The power station, the second largest in the State and is always lit up like a Christmas tree, now has sparklers as well, red and blue flashers by the hundred from multiples of cop cars and every emergency vehicle imaginable coming into in sight as we cross the bridge over the highway. I speak to a cop who calls the man in charge on the site, and he lets us though. It turns out this is one of the emergencies the power station employees and the rescue squad practice for, and it isn't as chaotic as it otherwise could've been.

The power station's general manager is there, wearing tracky dacks, a pyjama top and slippers, looking like he's trying to keep out of the way and wishing he wasn't here. My boss talks to him and boss seems to suddenly grow a few centimetres. One man dead, not one of ours; but one of ours, Angus, was hit by flying debris and is presently being freed from under the rubble. The two of us hunt up the rest our crew, who're in the canteen drinking ordinary coffee and eating so-so food cooked by a bleary eyed cook, where we're told about the accident. The cops have already interviewed Gino and Stan and the boys are now waiting to speak to the Operational Health and Safety (OH&S) bloke who arrived here two minutes before us. Gino and Stan are in shock as they were almost hit by the explosion, another few seconds and three metres they would've been in Angus's state; or worse, like the explosives bloke who was killed.

According to Chris the series of three blasts had seemingly gone off, the all clear sounded, but the charge hand wasn't happy with what he'd heard. Angus followed him into the site and the last charge hadn't gone off, but an echo or miss fire had been heard. The charge hand went onto the site and Angus blithely followed him in, when it finally exploded the charge hand took the brunt of the small explosion and saved Angus from the worst of it.

I take my black coffee (out of milk) and five tough as shoe leather, steak and onion sandwiches, and speak with the ambo (ambulance bloke), and he says Angus is alright, possibly some ribs broken, one piercing his lung and minor head injuries and the rescue team's bringing him out in a few minutes. (I like his bedside manner, reminds me of a Monty Python movie where the knight gets his arms and legs cut off and they're only a flesh wounds and still wouldn't let the heroes through) They'd just radioed him. Angus is soon brought to the triage spot - unconscious, but they say they hit him with pain killers which knocked him out while he was under the debris. Ten minutes later they clear a space and the Westpac rescue helicopter lands to take him directly to The John Hunter Hospital, the main hospital in Newcastle and the biggest outside Sydney.

OH&S have just finished with Gino and Stan, so we receive the okay from the site manager and help our five men grab their baggage from the caravans and tell the caterer to remain open to feed and coffee the workers on site and we'll cop the expense. That'll teach 'em for hurting our man. Billy drives my old ute home, kept company by Chris while Mitchy jumps into the back to sleep. Gino's a family friend of Angus, whose car is also on site, so he drives Stan home then follows the boss and me to Angus's parents' home. We remain there for half an hour, then I deliver the boss home, and I go home myself for another breakfast, one I can eat and actually digest.

If that had been that, it would've been bad enough, but my three amigos walk straight into a small orgy at their place. The front of the unit is parked out with stranger's cars, including the neighbours. Two of the women have a man each in bed with them, Shaver has two men having a morning glory with her, one inside each lower orifice and she's thinking she wishes she has a third one for her mouth. The rissole had been productive for men last night. Mitchy, Chris and Billy get pissed. They're tired and cranky and make minced meat out of the four strangers, then kick the three women out, naked, on their collective ears. They're under the impression only the men had to remain faithful and that agreement doesn't apply to them. I'm glad I hadn't been there. So are they, I'm sure.


Carolyn

Chris rings me immediately and I'm with them when the uniforms, Ivan and Colin, arrive. They almost wet themselves they're laughing so hard. The intruders, who're bleeding all over the common driveway, won't make a complaint, embarrassed at being beaten up by a smaller lot of men while the four mates are screwing the other blokes' women. I don't blame the blokes at all, as it's any port in a storm as far as they're concerned, and how the hell would they know the sluts' situation.

The girls however are another kettle of fish (that's a sick thought you just had, so stop it. Fish smell is a sick image to have of the girls, even as accurate as it may be). They are sitting naked in their car trying to appear inconspicuous. It's fortunate for them they forgot to lock the car when they were otherwise preoccupied the previous night, but had left the car keys inside the unit. They've no way of leaving.

Ivan and Colin act extremely officiously and have to be persuaded to not charge the four men outside for disturbing the peace and public nuisance. They're tempted to charge them for littering, for bleeding all over the concrete drive, not to mention public indecency for being naked in the drive. I talked them out of that though it didn't take much persuasion as they are enjoying the situation thoroughly, it will be lucky that they don't rupture something when they're out of public sight from laughing so hard. I've heard the story about Colin being caught with those red headed twins so he will be getting his own back from a similar situation he had, and he had to get Wally to get him out of. Ivan and he haven't been together long as Ivan and I were partnered for six months while Barny had long service leave time off to get married over in Canada or The States somewhere. The four cocks-men can't leave as their keys were locked in their cars in their haste the night before. Ivan and Colin talk me into retrieving their stuff, and the idiots are lucky that I am here. They are also lucky they all have spare car keys in their wallets.

I decided I've done my job for our mates so I leave via the front door, the boys are already asleep and it amuses me to the cockles of my heart to see the three amigos, all naked in the tiny old Austin, acting as if they aren't there. As they know well I'm a lesbian but they don't understand how Shortarse and the pregnancy come into the picture, and being the lesbian that I am, I sit on the bonnet of their car and laugh and whistle, asking them, "Hey, sweet cunts, wanna go someplace and fuck?" I'm sitting cross-legged right in front of the windscreen and haven't worn underpants since I moved in with my two lovers. The three amigos are staring down the barrel of a slightly reddened and inflamed pregnant pussy.

One of the problems of living with my two lovers and not wearing undies is having a perpetual slight rash caused by my perpetual excitement from being in perpetual contact with Graham and Deborah. I already have an extremely high libido and my two lovers are noted for stopping whatever they're doing and screwing me until I can't think straight wherever and whenever they come across me or each other. That's what Graham had been doing to me over the kitchen table beside Tobi eating her Coco Pops this morning when the boys rang, or as long as three minutes after My Man arrived in the front door. He doesn't care how tired he is and will always make the time to make friendly social intercourse with me or Deborah. I, of course, think it's disgusting and immoral and go to a lot of trouble to put no impediments in their way, underpants, bras, pants of any type, now only wearing dresses and skirts, which Graham (and often Deborah) goes to a bit of trouble to buy me - and the shorter the better like any genuine lesbian would wear ... like hell. My skin tight jeans and tartan shirts are beginning to rot due to lack of use. He has extremely erotic preferences in female garb for both his women even if they sometimes look ... oddly out of place ... on my pregnant torso. My man thinks I look hot and often has to combat our woman to be the first to get into my pussy; neither of them think I look odd, just sexy. I know -- we've all got our little problems, haven't we? As Our Lover often opines, 'this new just aint wearing off' but I tell her to not talk with her mouth full and get back to work.

As Rags, I act out how I received my nom de plume (I really was a bully at school) and rag them there for ten minutes, then re-enter the unit and dig out Gale's keys from her purse, remove the house keys and place the car key only onto the car's front bumper, in my friendly consideration leaving their purses on the wall cupboard. Not clothes or a towel for their modesty's sake, but they can now drive away, naked, to anywhere they want to go. Then they realised there's nowhere they can go, naked. I know that very well, so I leave them to their dilemma. Their car is within a micky hair of being out of petrol, as is normal, they're broke anyway, as is normal too, and their overworked and deep in debt credit cards are ... inside the unit in the purses on the sideboard. Told you I was considerate

Thought of by the only one who actually does think amongst the three, and not just viscerally react to circumstances, Gale, they drive over to their old unit, not far, and knock on Midge and Angela's door. Midge answers the door naked with his massive erection leading the way, and then goes straight back to screwing Angela across the middle of their breakfast bar. He's seen the three amigos naked and had sex with them often enough to not be bothered by their presence and Angela's just happy to be getting her rocks off. The three sit naked around the mating couple, making and drinking coffee for the hour ... or two ... which is how long Midge takes to have a short screw on his, and his girl's one day off a week. The breakfast bar because it seemed like a good idea at the time, and their sex life is very similar to Graham and his lovers', sans the cohabitants.

I arrive home in a cheerful mood due to all that and Tobi's departing, toothpaste caked on the corner of her mouth which I clean off with the spit moistened hem of my white, lace trimmed muslin mini skirt. My pubic bush of now almost forest density, going on display at the door in the process, has no interest to her at all (after all I'm nobody, just Mum). She says, "Yuck!" then kisses me just before she applies the afterburners on her way down the road. I don't enquire into where she's going as I really do trust her. The weekend's the only time she gets to see her gang of five's families, and, surprising to her, she has discovered she's a social animal once she had been estranged from her antisocial rapist father. She spends many of her weekends now having her meals and sleeping over at one or another of their houses where she's taken her own Coco Pops for breakfast to each house. Each time she returns to a house the Coco Pops are all gone. We must be supplying much of the neighbourhood with breakfast for the local female prepubescent population.

Her father, and us her mothers', encourage this in every way we can, considering it good therapy for a trauma she'll probably never fully recover from. All we want to know is where she is at any given moment. We supplied her with a mobile phone; not to chase her, but for her to keep herself in contact with us. She loves us all as if we're her natural parents and that being so she feels more secure in her new life. The only drawback to all this is her five mates prefer to stay at her place as they see fantastic sexy things and are allowed fairly free rein and sleeping times. At home their parents act as if they never have, gasp, sex. It's a win-win situation as far as Tobi's concerned.

It's great arriving home. Graham's reclining back in the lounge, dead to the world and drooling out one side of his mouth. Deborah's sitting on his lap with her school books spread around her and a funny unfocussed look on her beautiful face. On a closer inspection I can see she's uncovered his penis from the fly in his boxers, created an erection and is sitting with it inserted. I think, 'you beauty' and crawl under the coffee table covered with books and lick where their sexual organs are joined until either my tongue feels like it is going to fall off or her clit does. By now she is unconscious from over indulgence anyway, though that won't last long, and it's all her fault for letting me do it. It's now mid-afternoon, almost four hours after I began and the carpet under me is a saturated mess; don't know why. I've mentioned before I think these two are sex maniacs.

I rest my cheek against his inner thigh and she wakes and begins to ride him until he awakens. Then they become very noisy indeed. By the time they've done enough, my tongue's not sore anymore and I have to clean her up of the excess dribbling semen and him the residuals off his deflating penis, which instantly begins to reawaken; it seems we've discovered the secret to perpetual motion. He does love me and he proves it in so many ways. I see myself as a butch hag and he sees me as a delicate and sexy maid and his equal best friend in the world. Seeing I created the monster it's my responsibility to deflate the monster, so I take over from our woman and ride baby ride during which we discuss what we're having for tea tonight, but I keep losing track of the conversation as Deborah's chewing on my nipple after lifting my dress over my head.

Graham thinks he wants Thai. I can't see why not so we wait until he donates genetic fluids to our son and I loudly lose all track of the phone call Deborah makes to Tobi, asking her if she and her gang of five would like tea out tonight. I find it confusing when suddenly I hear Tobi's voice then she's right behind me with three more just like her, all carrying their pillows for the night. A minute later two more arrive pushing a wheelchair with Anna carting another three pillows then Penny without her pillow who notices a naked me and our man are still co-joined and whispers into in my ear, she'll share my pillow tonight. Why the hell did I instantly orgasm at that point?

The younger girls watch from the side, as it all becomes a spectator sport until our next messy and noisy finale, then carry their pillows into the spare room - leaving a certain wheelchair stranded and watching fascinated as Deborah cleans up my mess. She's a permanently crippled sixteen year-old with motor neurone disease who will never experience a normal sex life. A while ago Graham persuaded us women Anna can experience her sex life vicariously through us as she most likely won't live long enough to mature to that point and she certainly will never have a lover. Graham's the closest thing to a lover she'll ever have. Stephen Hawking has a form of this disease and has lived with it for fifty years. Our beautiful friend Anna is unlikely to have that prognosis, but for the time being she can speak in her own special way and can eat and breathe with difficulty if someone backs her up when she loses control. I've never seen anyone with as much patience with another as Graham has with Anna.

It becomes Maccas for the younger children, which we leave them to enjoy in the restaurant while Anna votes for Thai, and knowing her age and maturity we thought she would, although it's also obvious she wants to hang around with Graham. The surprise is that Penny also wants Thai. There are a few thoughts on this decision, partly to impress me, partly to impress Graham, and partly to separate herself from the younger children. Seeing it's acceptable for the younger lot to roam under their own recognisance during the day, outside making utter fools of themselves, there isn't much they can do wrong in McDonalds.

Neither of the Michaels girls has had Thai food before so we order a mass of separate meals, hot to mild, where Anna surprised us all by liking the hottest. It seems she's been losing her sense of taste and she can taste the hottest of them, enjoying the sensation of taste for the first time for quite a while. Penny goes vanilla and sticks with the mildest, but eats some of Graham's who the two Michaels girls are bookending at the table, in competition for his attention. Graham feeds Anna and when Penny has a jealousy pang she asks him to feed her a little of a hotter one with lots of rice. She goes red in the face and breaks out in fountains of sweat, but refuses to admit it's too hot for her. Graham orders a glass of milk, nominally for himself; she asks for a sip then finishes it in one mouthful. Graham leans over and kisses her cheek but otherwise makes no comment and the sweat stop as if by magic.

Us adults think the restaurant's as ordinary as hell, but the girls enjoy it. They'd really get a kick out of a decent restaurant serving well cooked food.

We immediately pick up the gang of six and go directly home. All six share a bath and go to bed to enjoy a sort of pyjama party. Sort of because none of them brought pyjamas with them and Tobi's stopped fitting her only weeks after we bought them and she hasn't worn any since, whether or not we buy some for her. Most of the girls wear panties, but not our girl who can't see the point - taking us as her example. She's simply Graham's live and kicking doona. I'm sure winter will change that.

The true effect of the hot chilli strikes Anna late in the night when we're all asleep, and she soils her pyjamas; which we do keep a pair here for her. She normally wears adult nappies, but sucked up big time with us women to go without. Graham, who's the only one of us who has the stomach to clean up her 'little' accidents, looks doubtfully at our decision, which is the reason why she sucks up to us not him. Her body's crippled, there isn't a damned thing wrong with her thinking processes. We came to the conclusion almost as soon as we knew her she is smarter than all of us combined.

At some ungodly hour in the morning I wake and Graham's returning Anna to bed wearing only a nappy, her hard little exposed breasts standing out like pimples on a pumpkin. Frankly, I think she appears to be coming down from the high of an orgasm. He can't see her face as he carries her, but her smile is almost splitting her face in two. In the distance I can hear the washing machine running and the bath making the weird noises it does when it drains. My thought is the Thai food hit her tummy, but her hero and protector makes no comment in the morning; he, in fact, ignores it ever happened. He's made the comment a few times about the Michaels' girls and Tobi: if we can't say something constructive we shouldn't say anything at all. He's sticking to that philosophy like shit to a blanket (an unfortunate but apt choice of expression), which I think does wonders for their traumatised and stunted self-esteems.

Penny wakes in the morning with a tummy ache, and that's payback as she was treating Graham's limp appendage like a dummy while sleeping. Still asleep I turn her over away from him and she does the same immediately to my quickly expanding nipple. At least she's consistent. She spends some time on the toilet and whinges that her bottom's burning, which doesn't surprise any of us at all. Her sister declines to comment but there's that smile again.

During breakfast, Graham points out to the six gang members we buy six large boxes of Coco Pops a week in our shop. It's not exactly sending us broke, but it's about time five of the families carried their weight. All six girls have the expressions on their faces wondering what the point is he's trying to make. I hear two of them comment, after they all brush their teeth with the tooth brushes we had bought them along with four different tubes of toothpaste separate to the one tube we adults use, as of course he buys six boxes as that's how much they all eat; silly Shortarse. Something, methinks, has been lost in translation there.

 
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