Chapter 7

In the cottage, the others looked, smirked and looked away. Erica walked past and said quietly “But I was first”

After she’d gone I said (also quietly) to Terri “Not like that, she wasn’t” Later, I saw her in the garden, doodling. “Terri, two things: those pictures are positively pornographic; and they are very good!” she was drawing my genital equipment from memory. The pictures were very detailed, and very well drawn. “Do you draw other things? Not other people’s cock and balls, I mean. Other pictures” She showed me some of her other pictures. She was actually very good with a pencil and paper. Looks like we had found her skill. I flicked some pages in her sketch book and there was a perfect representation of her vagina (I knew it was hers since I had seen up close quite recently), she turned the page quickly, her face red. “But that ... it really is very good. Honestly” I flicked back to it. “How did you... ?”

“I used a mirror. I wanted something difficult and fiddly as a challenge. I’m not some pervert”

I nearly said I wouldn’t mind if she was, but that could be taken the wrong way. I looked through others. She had drawn her eye, the dog, a foot, and a perfect replica of her breasts. And then there was this one of her (I assumed it was hers) nipple; all the little bumps and lumps around the centre. A man could, no, did, get a hardon looking at some of these. “No, you are an artist. Jeez! I’m not exaggerating. I think you are very good. Can I give you a commission? Could you draw the four of you? Something to remember a shitty holiday that became a perfect one”

“Yes, what was it you were saying as you met us on the cliff top?”

“Well, my Grandad was wrong. Life is shit, and then it gets better” I replied.

“No, I’m sure it will get worse again. Shall we?” We had arranged shifts now to go and call about Gramps and for me to call my mum. Dad too, of course, but he was (in the tradition of the times) more remote. Mum could tell there was something keeping me here, she couldn’t quite get it. She asked if there were any holiday girls working in the caravan sites. Not very subtle, but on the right track. I didn’t tell her I was sharing with four sexy girls, three of whom were currently in the garden at the cottage wearing next to nothing, and the other one was standing outside still (she told me) leaking from our sex session. Gramps was recovering and was apparently delighted with his book, he kept telling their granny interesting facts about Wolseley; which is like a woman explaining why knit one, purl one is such a fine knitting stitch. Granny was asked about the insurance for the car and said the certificate was in the back room, in the writing desk. We should check, she said.

We had agreed we would go in that evening. So back at the cottage, Fiona and I went to the back room. Fiona bent to look in the drawers. “Dave, stop staring at my bum” How did she know? It was a very attractive stretched fabric over that rounded pair of mounds. Could it be that any girl in a bikini, bending over, just knows she will get stares. And Fiona looked fucking good in a bikini stretched over her bottom. “I would have thought you’d had enough after wearing out Terri”

“I didn’t ... did I?” I was smiling; how could I not? “Did she say that?”

“She said you were energetic, and very good, and exhausting. Satisfied your male ego?” It had, it definitely had. I also had the impression that she had done it for the very generous reason that she wanted the others to benefit (or me to benefit from the others). I could live with that too. “Umm, Dave...” she held up what looked; no, what was; very definitely an ebony phallus. “You don’t think? Not Granny? I mean, she’s old...”

“She wasn’t always old”

“No ... but Granny? Oh ... maybe I shouldn’t look any morrrrr. Too late”

She had taken out an envelope, thinking it might have the insurance for the car in it. It didn’t, what it had was four letters from Granny to Gramps whilst he was serving overseas, and some pictures. We looked at them. “Oh no, oh, oh, oh no” Fiona was saying “These are ... Granny. They are! I’ve seen her wedding photos, this is her!” The woman in the pictures was as naked as Eve, she was actually pretty. She had full breasts (which she was cupping in some pictures), a large bottom (fashionable at the time) and a full bushy triangle. Yes, the different poses showed in all her glory.