Chapter 3

I actually had a small plumbing job the next morning. Cash in hand, and no rampant teenage nymph to distract me. However, I was distracted by the persistent recollection of the night before, with Cressida writhing away under me, getting herself knocked up, and the thought that in a few hours' time, I'd be fucking her again.

And there was the recollection of Charlotte, Cressida's mother, watching us from the bedroom window, and that little enigmatic smile. Did she know what we'd been doing? She'd certainly been able to smell the sex in her daughter's bedroom. I was quite prepared to bet she wasn't stupid and incapable of adding it all together and come up with 'pregnant daughter'.

I was working near home and my own parents were out at work, so for lunch I popped into the local pub. One of my mates, Tom Carter, was propping up the bar at the far end. I ordered a pie and a pint and we moved over to a table with our beer to await my food.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Business is booming," I replied. "Actually, I've just one more job to do today, which makes a change for me. I seem to be in big demand."

That at least was true as far as it went. I sensed Cressida would be a very demanding girl, and reckoned I should be moving on to someone else – after the afternoon's appointment: I mean I'm not going to pass up a guaranteed roll in the hay, am I!

"My sister keeps talking about you," said Tom.

"Really?" I said, sounding interested. Tom's sister was a good-looking girl and one I'd often fantasized about when I'd been jerking off – that is, until my present run of real live girls had started.

"Yeah. She talks about you as if you're a super-stud."

I put on my 'I not understanding' face. "Dunno where she got that idea."

"Apparently from her rather sexy friend, Josephine Black. Seems like you made one hell of an impression on her, and she's recommended you to Teresa."

"How do you mean, 'recommended' me to your sister?"

"Well if it was some other girl, and not Terry, I'd suppose you'd been recommended as a good fuck-buddy."

There's this phrase about 'blood running cold', and you know what? It's true. It happens. It was happening right now to me.

"I wonder why she'd do that – or what gave her the idea," I said.

"Perhaps you fucked her and she enjoyed it."

I blushed. "Perhaps she confused me with someone else."

My lunch arrived and I was glad to have to go and collect it from the bar. I'd thought what Josephine and I had done was strictly between her and me, even though I knew girls are said to talk to each other.

On the other hand, maybe Tom's sister might ... Nah! Tom was my mate. Our families were friendly. No way was I going to foul my own doorstep, or nest, or whatever. Terry would have to remain merely fantasy material.

"You wouldn't want to go out with her then?" he asked.

"I didn't say that," I protested. "I wouldn't mind at all, but she's your sister, Tom. How would you feel about Terry and me on a date?"

Tom shuffled uncomfortably and leaned forward, close to my ear.

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to repeat it."

"Sure!"

He considered for a moment, then leaned even closer.

"The fact is, I've fancied my sister for years. Obviously, that's a bit of a problem, her being my sister, but I figure if she goes out with an alleged stud-muffin and you were to – you know – get to King's Cross with her..."

"King's Cross?" I asked, thrown by this.

"London rail terminus. End of the line. All the way. Okay?"

I stared at him. "You'd expect me to f— uh, make love to her?"

He nodded. "I reckon, if you do, and she knows I know, I might stand a chance of getting her for myself."

I thought about it briefly. Terry was a lovely girl, and if she was willing...

"Okay," I said. "I'll ask her out."

To my surprise, he shook his head.

"Nah. Get Josephine to invite both of you to hers one night when her mum's out. She's the one who recommended you to Teresa."

"Tell you what," I replied, "You get Josephine to invite your sister and me to hers when her mum's out. I don't know her that well."

He gave me a funny look.

"I thought you—"

"Yes, well that wasn't planned or anything. We weren't going together. I was just going round there to do a job for her mother."

He still looked at me weird. "You went to the house to fix her mother's plumbing, and ended up fixing Josephine's?"

"Twice."

"Twice," he echoed. He stared for quite a while, then added, "Well, whatever you had for breakfast, I want some of it."

I wondered what was in store for me as I walked up the path to Cressida's front door. Well, that's not quite right. I had a damn' good idea that we would end up in a sweaty heap, naked, on her bed, but now the shock had worn off, I wanted to talk to her and find out why she so obviously wanted a baby.

She opened the door as I approached – she'd obviously seen me arrive – wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that ended just below her huge boobs. She was barefoot. She smiled, reached up, and pulled me down to kiss her, squashing her magnificent secondary sexual features against my chest. At the same time, one hand crept between us and rubbed my flies.

It was too much to expect kissing and having my cock squeezed would have no effect, and I have to say my sexual apparatus rose to the occasion quite quickly.

"Oh, good! You're right on time. I was worried you'd be late, or possibly change your mind about coming," Cressida said. "Let's go up to my room."

She led the way, taking my hand and sitting on the bed as she drew me towards her.

"Let's get these work clothes out of the way," she said.

So far I hadn't said a word, but now I grabbed her hands as they were about to unfasten my jeans.

"Don't think I'm ungrateful – or even unwilling – not for a minute – but would you mind telling me why you want to get pregnant?"

She took her hands out of mine, and laid back on her elbows, legs parted. She looked up at me.

"Have you seen my mum? You have. How old do you think she is?"

I hate these questions about a woman's age. It's inevitable that I'll get it wrong, or worse, I'll guess high and be right. It's a no-win situation for a bloke.

"Oh, I don't know. I mean she'd have to be in her thirties. Let's say, 34?"

"She's 28."

I stared at her while I did the arithmetic. "But, if you're sixteen, she must have been only twelve when you were born!"

She sat up and pulled off her T-shirt. Her boobs were unfettered and the nipples were stiff, and looked good enough to eat.

"Who said I was sixteen?" she asked, beginning to handle her boobs herself and flick the nipples with her thumbs.

"I thought you were in Josephine's class. She's sixteen, isn't she?"

She left her boobs and undid the button on the waistband of her shorts, unzipping them and wriggling them down over her hips, which involved a lot of hip-humping.

"Did Josephine tell you she was sixteen?"

She pulled her knees together and slipped her shorts off before spreading her legs again, still with her feet on the floor and her bared, naked pussy only a couple of inches from where my cock was still trapped inside my jeans, threatening dire consequences if I didn't let it out soon.