Chapter 1

This is an extract from a longer story. If you haven’t read my story “Summer of 76”, I suggest you do so, to understand who these people are.

Mary came back a few days early from one of her overseas assignments, rushed past me through the house and into the bathroom, where she threw up noisily and at length. When she emerged, she came and hugged me.

“I’m pregnant,” she said.

“How...” I began, but didn’t get to finish my question.

“The usual way! You forced yourself on a poor, defenceless young girl at a moment of weakness and had your wicked way with me.” Her smile mirrored my own. We’d always said we wanted at least one child, and now was as good a time as any.

“As I was about to ask, how far along are you?”

“Eight weeks, maybe?. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time for fun before I become gross and unattractive.”

“Idiot! You’ll just be differently gorgeous, but certainly no less sexy than you always are.”

And she was. There was a glow about Mary once the morning puking stopped, that made people turn in the street just to watch her walk by. With her looks, height and figure, she’d been known to stop traffic, but now she was a significant public hazard.

Her sex drive went through the roof. She struggled, and, to my delight failed, to keep her fingers out of her knickers and at any moment I might catch her diddling herself. It wasn’t just at home in private either. The ten minute drive into town was plenty long enough for her to rub one out. On one memorable occasion when we were on a longer journey, Mary, who was wearing a loose dress, had pulled it up to her waist and was vigorously scrubbing at her knickers. The road behind and in front was empty. When I spotted a single truck up ahead, I pulled out and started to overtake it, but as slowly as I could. We pulled level with the driver’s cabin. I glanced across. Mary’s eyes were closed, but the driver’s gaze was riveted to Mary’s little blue bikini knickers and her hand that was now deep inside them. She was bucking her hips against her busy fingers, so I knew she was close to coming. I matched my speed to the truck’s, until she folded up as the spasms struck her. As I accelerated to pull away, I got a thumbs up and a headlight flash of appreciation. Mary either didn’t notice or, more likely, didn’t care. I didn’t comment, just revelled in the buzz that came from having shared the sight of my lovely, pregnant, sexy wife with a total stranger.

It was soon impossible for her to adopt the legs-behind-head position that made her so accessible to my tongue. She was determined however, that nothing was going to get in the way of a pleasure that she had grown to delight in, as had I. One lazy Sunday afternoon, we’d gone for a lie-down that had turned into a kissy, cuddly, how-about-if-I-do-this-to-you session. In the course of this, my fingernail scratched Mary’s dark rosebud. She shot upright.

“Oh, God! Do that again,” she squawked.

“Like this?”

“Oh yes! It’s like an electric shock!”

I could feel the effect when I placed a fingertip on her sphincter. It was contracting and relaxing at a rate of knots. I pressed a little harder.

“Push it inside me!” Mary demanded. “Oh, that feels so good! Can you get two fingers in there?”

I could and I did. The contractions were almost crushing my fingers. Mary scrubbed at her clitoris for a minute or so before she came, almost screaming with the strength of her orgasm. I subtly slid my fingers out and waited for her to come back down, sure that this wouldn’t be a one-off occasion.

That night, when she grabbed my hand and pulled it towards the valley between her cheeks, I didn’t hesitate, but just slipped two fingers up and inside her welcoming bum.

“So good! Can you stretch me a bit more? Yes, just like that!”

I had three fingers inside her now. When she came, her sphincter squeezed them firmly, and that seemed to increase her pleasure.

If she could take three fingers, then my cock shouldn’t be too much of a problem, I suggested. It took a couple of weeks for Mary to agree to try it, but thereafter, throughout her pregnancy, being sodomised gave her at least as much pleasure as vaginal sex. I wasn’t complaining, she was hot and tight and the contractions I’d noticed on my fingers were much more powerful when it was my cock being squeezed.

I’d heard that women sometimes went for weird food combinations when pregnant. With Mary, that extended to her sexual tastes as well. She was five months gone, and had opted to work from home, when one evening I was greeted by the sight of Mary, naked and wanking on our bed.

“In the freezer there’s a rubber glove. Can you get it for me?” she gasped.

The glove had one finger that had been filled with water which had then frozen. I took it to where Mary was writhing on the bed.

“Push it up my bum, as far as you can,” she instructed me. She howled when I did as I was told.

“Oh, it’s cold! It’s so cold! But it feels so good! Pull it out and fuck my bum, really hard! Please?”

It was a strange sensation. At first I was afraid I’d lose my erection because of the cold, but I was so turned on that I could have boiled a pot of water on my dick. Mary was even tighter than usual, and following her orders, I went at her like a stud bull. She screamed and yelled at me to go harder until I shot my boiling hot load into her entrails. She calmed down after a few minutes and staggered off to the bathroom. When she came out, her eyes were shining.

“That was unbelievable! Thank you!”

“Where did that idea come from?”

“You’ll laugh. I overheard one of the other women at the pre-maternity class telling her friend about it, so I thought I’d try it out”.

“Have you brought any other tips home? Just so I can be prepared!”

“No, but if I do, I’ll want to surprise you, so you’ll just have to wait and see.”

As the months passed and her belly grew rounder and rounder, our sex life calmed down quite a lot. Mary began to suffer from backache and it made her grumpy. Then when that faded, she got it into her head that she needed to take on a load of work, because once the baby was born, she wanted to concentrate on being a mother and wouldn’t be earning, at least for a while.

She was eight months pregnant when she was offered a three-week contract in Amersfoort, in the Netherlands. I was a bit concerned that she was getting close to her due date, but the money on offer was significant, and besides, she really wanted to do it.

What happened on her arrival there, was something I only learned about later, when Mary explained everything to me. In total ignorance of this development, when Mary called me and said she’d welcome a visit if I could arrange it, I was relieved that she and the baby were fine, pleased for her that the work was going smoothly, and delighted to say yes. I booked on the overnight ferry.

I caught the Friday night boat and arrived on the Saturday morning. Mary came to meet me at the port. I was reminded of how fortunate I was to have a wife who looked good enough to eat, even, or maybe even especially, at eight and a half months pregnant. We took the train to her hotel, fell into bed and made love, carefully and conventionally. I left her to relax and went and had a shower. When I came back into the bedroom, Mary patted the mattress beside her. I sat.

“Do you remember the evening with Jakob?” she began.

“Of course. I’ll never forget it. I doubt whether he will either”.

“How would you react if I told you I’m dying to do something similar, and that now you’re here, I want it to happen this weekend?”

“You’ve found someone you want to do that with?” I asked, feeling my heart sink. What had happened with Jakob had been by mutual consent, and pregnant hormones or not, I wasn’t comfortable with the idea that she’d picked up, or been picked up by some random Dutchman looking for a blowjob. My concern lasted the five seconds that it took Mary to look at my expression and burst out laughing. She explained.

“Do I look like a woman who might suck off some bloke I’ve just met? she asked... “This isn’t about a person, or even really about an anonymous dick. It’s about my memories of the experience with Jakob, and finding out what it would be like to do that again. It may be my hormones playing up, but I have a very strong urge to remind myself of how it felt to have a dick that wasn’t yours in my mouth and to swallow the result. Is that a problem?”

“Theoretically, no. Given what we’ve been exploring, it was always going to happen sooner or later, wasn’t it?”

“I think so. Can we talk about it practically then? Have you ever been to a glory hole?”

“A what? No! Never! I wouldn’t want to do that sort of thing without you.”

“I’ve been told of one in Amsterdam by someone I work with ... If you’re willing, she will take us there tonight.”

She? I thought. Humm. That could be interesting... “You’re sure? With your bump?” I asked.

“Quite sure. Yes or no?”

“Yes, of course. With you, I’m always a yes, you know that”.

She kissed me.

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing and I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself too. But there’s something I want to discuss with you first.”

“Go on?”

“I’ve seen how your eyes light up when I happen to mention that I had sex with girls when I was at school. I think it’s time I gave you a clearer picture.”

“I’m all ears!”

“What do you actually know, as opposed to imagine, about sex between women?”

“Um. Films? Stories? What I’ve guessed from the hints you’ve given me?” As I finished saying that, it occurred to me that I might as well have said I knew nothing. The women I’d seen on film were acting, most of the books were probably by men, and Mary had never gone into any detail. “Ok. Let’s assume that I’m ignorant.”

“You didn’t go to a boarding school, so you can have no idea of how intense all those adolescent hormones are, in a pressure cooker situation with no “normal” safety valve. I’m talking about my convent, but I’m sure it’s identical in a boys’ boarding school.”

“I’ve never given it any thought, but I suppose so.”

“Forget about any films you’ve seen. 17 year old girls come in all shapes, sizes and stages of development, sexual as well as physical and mental. I was a late starter, because when I wasn’t training to swim, swimming or thinking about swimming, I was engrossed in my books. I wanked a lot, but on my own. Do you remember my friend Millie at the wedding?”

I recalled meeting Millie, a very short, slight, not unattractive young woman, with long hair as red as Mary’s. Millie hadn’t made a huge impact on me, but then, no other woman than Mary did, at that time. I nodded.

“Well, I can remember the first time that Millie gathered the courage to crawl into my bed. There was a thunderstorm raging, and she was terrified of lightning. At first we just cuddled, and then before I realised it she’d slid her hand inside my pyjama pants and her fingers had started work. I was no stranger to masturbating, but it was so different that I let her carry on. She started kissing me, face, shoulders, arms. When she got to my nipples, I was lost. I don’t know why I pushed her head downwards, but she didn’t hesitate. When her tongue found my clitoris, I almost exploded. I had to grab my pillow and bury my face in it, or I’d have been yelling at the top of my voice that I was coming. Ok so far?”

“It’s a fabulous image to think about! Two pretty girls enjoying sex together!”

“Ah. Now hear this, then. Millie was and is a wonderful person, but she’d tell you herself that she’s never been anybody’s idea of a blazing beauty. She’s lost weight since, and had some dental work done. Back then, though, she had crooked teeth, hair like rats’ tails, she was a good five kilos overweight and although she swore she was one metre fifty-five, I’ve no idea where she got the last five centimetres from. But she was my first and best friend at the school, two ginger girls, one half-pint and one giraffe against the world. Millie was the person I could trust totally, who taught me most of the jokes I’ve told you, the girl I could tell about my period pains, the one who invited me to stay in the holidays when my parents’ marriage was imploding. Sex became an important part of our survival system in those final two years, but it was only ever one part of it.”

I scrubbed my mental picture of two nude Mary look-alikes, and tried to grasp the huge difference between the sexes at that age, us boys ready to screw the front-door keyhole, but girls seeing sex as part of a wider and more subtle relationship. I was sure that the one was as stereotypical as the other, but it seemed to me, that what I had now with Mary was closer to the female model.

“Surely it must happen sometimes that a girl just falls in love ... or in lust, with another girl?”

“It does. Sometimes there’s something you can’t put into words about somebody ... and how is that for a nonsensical sentence? I’m sure that’s the same for a man. The way someone walks, or stands, or scratches their nose, triggers an electric shock that makes your hair stand on end.”

“Like mine did when I met you, you mean?”

“Flatterer! But the wonderful thing about that moment was that you and I both felt it. When I arrived here, Elke came to pick me up, and within seconds of meeting I could feel it, that thing, whatever it is. She’s from Suriname, and gorgeous, which helps, as tall as me, brown, all sorts of different genetic elements making a harmony that set off fireworks in my body. She was wearing tight hot pants, boots and a top that was so loose that when she bent to pick up my suitcase, I could see all of her boobs, and you’ll see, she has beautiful boobs! I’m not feeling at my sexiest with my bump, but I was tingling all over.

She drove me to the hotel and dealt with getting my suitcase up to my room. I was waiting for her to go so I could unpack, when she suddenly looked me straight in the eyes.

“What would you say if I told you I really wanted to kiss you?” she asked.

I didn’t have to think. I was flooded with relief, happy that I hadn’t been fooling myself about what I was feeling. I just blurted it out:

“I’d say as long as I can kiss you back, that would be just lovely.”

We kissed and it was wonderful. Just lips at first, and hers were full and soft, but soon it was tongues, and her unclipping my bra, and my fingers in her knickers and both naked and on the bed and fingers and tongues ... oh, everywhere imaginable!”

Mary ran out of breath and had to pause. Her face was bright pink.

“I’m sorry I missed that. It sounds amazing,” I said.

“It was.” Mary’s tone was back to all business. She went on. “So. The gloryhole. Are you on for watching me doing that? I really want to. And you’ll meet Elke and see her in action too, of course!”

How could I be a spoilsport? Of course I said yes.

We met Elke in the hotel’s reception. She was a whole League of Nations genetically, as tall as Mary, slim and brown-skinned, with asiatic eyes, a restrained Afro hairstyle and, in her pink minidress, what looked like a terrific sexy body. Mary caught me looking, and winked at me. We followed Elke to her car and set off. Once in Amsterdam she parked and we walked, stopping eventually at a little bar in a backstreet. Inside, we went down some stairs into a discotheque. The music was deafening and the place was heaving with an eclectic mix of men and women, some ostentatiously gay, transvestites, plus a horde of tourists, ranging from a hen party gang to what looked like an entire men’s basketball team. Something for everyone, I thought. The guy on the turntables was a little person. Something for everyone indeed!