Chapter 4

David and Harry, professional tradesmen, were accustomed to waking early. Harry found himself wrapped around Penny, his cock deeply embedded in her from behind, and his top hand cupping a firm tit. She was slowly and rhythmically moving her hips. He nuzzled her neck.

“Hey, pretty one. Time to get up.”

“Not until you finish what you’re doing.” She didn’t sound sleepy at all, and began to move more vigorously.

Next door, David woke with Ginny half on top of him, firm breasts pressed against his chest. “Ginny ... time to get up.”

“Oh, sir...” she wriggled. “This is so nice...”

“It is! But we need to see to the fire, or we’ll be cold.”

“Yes, sir,” sadly, rolling out of bed and on to her knees.

“Ginny, you really need to dress, love. It’ll be cold, even in the kitchen,” he explained, going on with a chuckle, “and it’s like a witch’s tit in here...”

The temperature in the room was, indeed, much lower than Ginny was used to. Her nipples were spiked with the cold, and she began to shiver before running to her room to get some clothes. Penny arrived shortly after, a hand between her legs trying to stop drips on the floor. A pad and panties were the first priority, followed by bra, t-shirt, and boiler suit. Ginny copied her, except that she hadn’t shortened the cuffs of her boiler suit, so had to wear the slacks, blouse and a pullover that she’d brought with her.

They made their way to the kitchen, where David was on his knees with the fire in the Aga.

“There you are! Good! Come and meet the stove.” He briefly demonstrated riddling the grate. “I’ve already done it. This shakes the ash into the ash-pan...” he grabbed a handle, which he hooked into a pan under the grate and pulled it out, full to the brim with grey ash and a few glowing embers. “I’ve tipped a bit of coal onto the fire and it’ll pick up pretty quickly. We can boil an electric kettle and toast some bread, but only when the electricity is working properly, so most of the time we use the Aga. There are two big hot plates under these lids,” he said, lifting one, “the kettle is on the other as you can see. There’s a hot oven and a medium oven...”

“Okay. What is there in the way of stores? Veg? Potatoes? Meat? Eggs?”

“The fridge works on gas as well as electric, and there’s bacon, milk, butter and such in there.” He pointed to a corner. “Larder there. Veg, tinned stuff.”

“Okay.” Ginny looked round, saw and grabbed a large frying-pan, took bacon, sausage and eggs from the indicated fridge, bread and tomatoes from the larder. “You know someone with a hothouse?”

“The farm which supplies our pork has tunnel hot houses. Dairy comes from another nearby. They make their own butter and cheese.”

Ginny busied herself with the pan on the second hotplate, melting dripping and adding sausages and rashers of bacon. “How many rashers?”

“Three each for Harry and me. However many you and Penny want.”

Ginny looked at her friend. “Better be one and one sausage, Penny.”

Her friend grimaced and nodded. “Sure. We need to think about how we’re going to exercise, Gin.”

Soon the smell of frying bacon suffused the air. The kettle boiled and Ginny made peppermint tea. “I miss coffee,” she sighed.

“Benny ... I mean, Etty ... might be able to help us out,” Penny said thoughtfully. “But I don’t like to...”

“I know...”

“We sort of got used to doing without tea and coffee,” Harry said. “There’s a bit of tea coming in sometimes, but it’s ridiculously expensive. The price of coffee is dropping a bit though. We do have some chicory if that’s any good?”

Ginny put piled plates in front of the two men, then smaller ones for Penny and herself before sitting down. “I’ve never tried chicory,” she commented, picking up knife and fork.

No-one commented further, being too busy with their breakfast.

David and Harry, with Penny, went downstairs to the workshop, leaving Ginny to contemplate the rest of the morning. Priority one, what to cook for lunch? Or ... sandwiches, and a stew or something for supper? That might be better. She checked the fire, which seemed to be fine. There was enough bread for sandwiches, and cheese in the fridge. Diced meat, looked like beef ... onions, carrots, parsnips. Okay. Within half an hour, she had a stew prepared and in the medium oven. She washed up the morning pots, and set about stitching the overlong arms and legs of one of the overalls. That done, she changed into it and checked the fire again, added some coal, and looked at the clock.

The men – and Penny – had been downstairs for about two hours, so she reluctantly made her way downstairs.

Penny:

I can’t express how good it felt, waking up next to Harry. I mean, I hadn’t lacked sex over the previous couple of years, but the trainers hadn’t been into affection, if you see what I mean. Yes, sex – very good sex, for the most part – but not cuddles, not ... making love. That’s what it felt like. As if there were a mental connection, or an emotional one. When I got into bed with him, he was obviously aroused, but he didn’t immediately start to maul me about. I snuggled against him and enjoyed his warmth and the scent of him. I never thought about that before. He caressed my back, my buttocks, but nowhere else. My nipples ached, and I pressed them against his chest. My kitty demanded attention, too. Well ... he had this hard erection, which twitched when I grasped it. If he wasn’t going to take the step, I would.

Cowgirl isn’t a position I’d experienced often. It was something we’d been taught, but on the whole, it was missionary or doggy. But I slid down his pole easily; oh, I was wet. Sitting up, it was a bit chilly, so I lay down on him and tugged the covers up to my shoulders and went to work with my abdominals and kegels. He came, oh yes. I couldn’t miss what I felt. That gave me a little orgasm, but it was the feel of his cum in my kitty that satisfied that need. Before I moved off, I kissed him, trying to convey the intensity of what I was feeling. Judging by his response, I did. Anyway, I rolled off, tucked a bit of towel between my legs, and snuggled back against him.

I woke in the night. No idea of the time. But he was behind me, spooned up, and I could feel something poking my back. It was the work of a moment to tuck the hard-on between my legs and go back to sleep. I woke a little before him. It was still dark, but I’d woken up at six am every day for two years, and didn’t need an alarm clock. His cock was hard again. Perhaps it had been all night, but I thought not. It was notched between my labia and, once more, I was wet and ready. Just a tiny movement had it in me. His arm was draped over me, and I took his hand and pressed it to a titty ... oh, the itch in my nipples again. I was happy, just moving a little, until he woke.

“Hey, Pretty One! Time to get up.”

He thinks I’m pretty? “Not until you finish what you’re doing.” I moved faster and harder, and pressed his hand against my itching nipple. Without thinking about it, my other hand found my clit and rubbed. Not absolutely necessary, as his prick was scraping my g-spot.

I came a few seconds before him, but feeling him pulse in me gave me a second one. We stayed like that for a few seconds before he sighed and withdrew. “Thank you, Pretty Girl.”

All my clothes were in the room which was Ginny’s and mine, so when Harry got up, I followed and went next door. I added a little more wiggle than usual, even though I was pinching my labia to stop dribbling cum all over the place. Ginny was there before me, dressing. We smiled at each other, and I found panties and a washable liner. Ginny left as I pulled a t-shirt over my head. I was wearing a bra, though I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. The boiler-suit I’d altered went on, along with some thick socks.

Ginny cooked bacon, sausage, tomatoes and toast. That was as good a breakfast as I’d had in the Centre. We had peppermint tea, too, instead of the usual bottle of water. As soon as we’d finished eating, I followed David and Harry downstairs. My, but that workshop was chilly. Harry used a gas poker to get the forge lit. There was a radiator on the wall, which they told me got hot water from the central heating, the water being heated by the Aga in the kitchen. Because it worked on a convection system, the workshop was at the end of the circuit, hence not very hot, but they switched on a fan and warmish air began to circulate. With the heat from the forge once the fire was established, it got so it wasn’t too bad.

It looked as though Harry was going to be my mentor, which was nice. He started me off using a steam hose to clean the engine compartment of the next car to be worked on, then had me drive the thing – I hadn’t driven much after passing my test, not surprising, given my behaviour – onto the lift. Nervous, or what? I managed not to drive over the stops, though, and he talked me through lifting the vehicle enough to get under it. Thin rubber gloves, he said that they couldn’t usually get them, but there they were, size small. A star-shaped key, which fit in the sump-plug, and an oil drip-tray. I now know how to change the oil, at least on that model, and how to change the filter.