Bryan & Carla - Cover

Bryan & Carla

Copyright© 2021 by TonySpencer

Chapter 10: Bryan and the Bbq

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 10: Bryan and the Bbq - Carla had resolved to marry as a virgin, like her Mum, who taught her to deflect suitors' ardour with HJs or BJs. Carla had one boyfriend, a neighbour but never a life long contender. From afar Carla loved Bryan, who never asked her to date, but time was running out, Bryan's last Eve before a Short Service Commission and Military College, so Carla asked him out. Who would've guessed they were both Master and Mistress of the oral arts, that each lost control and contact. Fast forward 4 years....

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Humor   First   Oral Sex   Slow  

I worked well in company with Barry Brown, my future father-in-law, at the hot charcoal grill in the Brown’s back garden. After a while and once we had cooked and stockpiled the first batch of food, to make sure that everyone had something, he was confident to leave me in charge of the grill while he played host.

We were late finishing our shopping so we headed straight for Carla’s parents’ house, especially as Carla had received a text from her Mum to say they were back home at 11.30 and Barry was getting the charcoals loaded up and lit.

Barry reported that the furniture had been delivered and said that he had ensured that the delivery company had made a note of and agreed with him, as well as signed on the delivery note by the driver, that one of the dining room chair legs was scratched. The supplier had been contacted and they agreed to deliver a replacement by Monday.

I had to grin, I really liked Barry and could see us getting along well over the years. Other than the chair problem, he reported that all the rooms had been thoroughly cleaned. He had spotted, on the side in the kitchen, the snag list that I had started with my initial inspection on Friday morning (was that only yesterday?!) and he’d added a few things he had spotted to the list, as well as put a few simple things right during the general clean up and crossed them off the list.

They had also found time to unpack all of my boxes and put everything away. To be honest, I was shocked that he managed to get both his drunken sons from the previous evening up and out of their house to get to my place shortly after 7am, so I was left in no doubt of his persuasive powers!

I recalled that time a decade earlier, when I was just 15 and, along with half a dozen of my school friends, we were the elite selected from many applicants to help Mr Brown in his various building projects during the long school summer holidays. Not just boys were taken on, but he employed a couple of girls, too. One of the reasons I was keen to join them that year was because one of the girls in the team would be his daughter Carla. Naturally, knowing how my luck ran, for most of the six long, hot weeks of the summer, I was mostly working on the early stages of building, making and putting in shuttering for concrete pouring, mixing mortar for bricklaying or wall plaster, while Carla was more often working on a completely different site, putting the finishing touches of gloss painting windows or doors.

One project they did have though, was the renovation of a nearby village church hall, which involved a lot of filling cracks and holes and rubbing down all the inner walls, the window frames inside and out and all the door architraves and skirtings. Although part of the day was spent on labourious prep, by mid-morning we lads were on wall painting duty, using huge brushes or rollers with long-reach handles, while the girls were doing their detailed gloss painting, so I was able to keep an eye on ‘my girl’ all afternoon, which for me was heaven.

Of course, Gary Cox being Gary Cox was messing about as usual when the Boss wasn’t watching and started teasing the two girls. Carla told him to stop it. I was already moving towards them when I saw him raise his hand and smack Carla across the face. I couldn’t stop the initial blow, but I ensured he wouldn’t hit her again. I told Carla and the other girl, that if Cox ever tried that again, I would see him at the bottom of the next building foundation we laid. And I wasn’t kidding. I kept my eye on Cox and Carla for the remaining week of the holidays. Of course, Carla and Cox carried on being seen out together as a couple thereafter and, when the next year came around and Mr Brown rang me to ask why I hadn’t signed on with the others, I lied and said I had too many Army Cadet commitments. How could I tell him of my disappointment that the woman I loved chose someone else over me? Mr Brown had sounded disappointed by my response and told me that any time I needed work he would find something for me. I just couldn’t face having the couple demonstrating they were a couple in front of my eyes all day for a second year.

At the grill, Barry Brown snapped me out of my memories by getting me up to date on what they had done to help me move in. It sounded as though the many hands of the Brown family had made light work of moving me into our new house painlessly, unpacking all my boxes and even making up the flat pack bed in the third bedroom.

“There were lots of pictures that we unpacked, son, but we left the final decision where they were to go up to you. We leaned them up by the walls in the positions that Myra considered was best. She’s got a better eye for that sort of thing than I have. I’ve left a couple of packs of picture hooks plus a spare hammer, which you can keep, in the utility room for you.”

“I really appreciate that Dad.” I said, becoming more and more comfortable settling into my new enlarged family.

“One other thing son,” he said, “when you think about renting the property out, would you give us first refusal?”

“But what about this place? I have only four bedrooms and even with Carla and Brie moving out, you need more than four.”

“We talked about renting your house over coffee at your place and John announced that he was moving in with his girlfriend shortly. Marlene lost her grandmother recently and her parents have a granny flat within their house and Marlene has spoken to them about having John move in with her and, if their relationship survives this test they will marry. Hey, it is the modern way. They are thinking about it but, as you know, there are few more respectable kids than John. As for this place, we would sell it, we are old enough to put our money into tax-free savings, and I could release enough money to give my business the capital boost it needs in equipment and training to enable the enlarged company to compete with larger firms for larger and more profitable jobs and projects.”

“You have my word that you have first refusal, I feel in this respect I can speak for Carla that I’m sure she will fully support this arrangement.” We shook on it and he began his circulation among his guests.

“Honey, I’d like you to meet Michelle, my usual partner in crime at the Riverside Bar,” Carla introduced a dark haired woman of about 30, about five years older than us, who was almost as tall as me. “She would like some of your grilled chicken in a sandwich.”

“Hi, Michelle,” I said, “I hope you’re feeling better than you did yesterday.”

She grinned in embarrassment, “Actually I was on a hot date last night. Someone invited me to the new pub opening, so I called in sick. I heard that you two are getting hitched, congratulations.”

“Thanks, Michelle,” I said as I pressed a fillet breast of chicken in a bun in her hand, “Barry’s special hot sauce and a selection of salads are on the table over there. Are you working tonight?”

“Ahh! Of course! Do you want Carla to throw a sickie, so you can have your wicked way with her all night, again?” Michelle laughed, getting a light slap on her arm from Carla.

“I have told her no such thing, Darling,” Carla smiled, “she has a vivid imagination and can see how gloriously happy I am today.”

“You positively glow, my Darling,” I laughed, with my eyes focused on hers, “I think even on the most ordinary day you can imagine, you are always my hot date.”

“So.” I replied to Michelle’s earlier question, “I only wanted to know so we can keep the babysitting arrangements simple.”

“How does the munchkin feel about the wedding?” Michelle asked us.

“She loves Bryan already, but then who wouldn’t?” Carla said, pulling her friend away, “We’ll leave Bryan to grill while you tell me all about your hot date.”

“Well, it turned out to be not so hot...” Michelle said as she was being pulled away and I couldn’t hear any more.

There were a few other guests at the BBQ, apparently a regular thing at the Browns’ during the summer. Brenda Cox was briefly introduced to me, a shy, mousey middle-aged woman who arrived quietly and immediately disappeared into the kitchen to help Myra butter rolls, heat up crisps and make salads. I assumed from her name that she was the neighbour and therefore Gary Cox’s Mum. I remember when I was helping to carry and stack bricks during the building and Barry chewing Mr Cox off for using mortar that had gone off in the mix and started setting, that Cox Senior was a surly individual, and Brenda seemed to have the timid attitude of a woman who was bullied, by her husband while he was around and now by her son.

I was formally introduced to my future brothers-in-law. John, I recognized from his Army Cadet days, as he was only a couple of years younger than myself and Carla, but Paul, George and Richard were meeting me for the first time. They all seemed friendly and interested in my travels, but the eldest three collected their food and drifted off immediately their girlfriends arrived. Richard was the youngest and didn’t have a girlfriend yet.

“I’m the bookworm in the family,” Richard confided in me after his brothers deserted him for their girls, although he looked to have the potential to develop a similar frame to his brothers, once he grew out of his smaller 13-year-old body, “I want to be an engineer and work on escape velocity rockets and strategies for refuelling vessels on other worlds and moons, rather than always having to take enough fuel for the return journey to Earth.” He was a smart kid and I expressed the wish that he’d achieve his objective.

My father Clive and his girlfriend Sadie turned up with their one-year-old baby, who was at the stage where he was beginning to crawl everywhere. Unasked, three-year-old Brie put herself in charge as Mother Hen to my half-brother, to ensure that he didn’t go where it was dangerous or too dirty, and shield him from the danger of being stepped on. I was so touched and proud of her that I had to seek out Carla to hug and kiss her for bringing our child up to be such a lovely creature. Carla swatted me lightly on my arm saying to Michelle that I was prepared to use any excuse to squeeze and kiss her.

“Do I need an excuse?” I asked, to which she replied, “No, of course not. In fact you’ll have to come up with excuses NOT to kiss me, and if you want to keep me happy they better be good ones!”

Jenny Kingstone was another arrival, Carla’s best friend. After embracing Carla, and being introduced to Michelle, she greeted me like an old friend, which we were, having been close neighbours for as long as we could remember, up until I left home and she married. She pulled me into a passionate hug and mouth kiss with tongue, which took me by surprise, whispering in my ear, “At one time I hoped that I would be the one you’d ask to marry, but I wish you and Carla every happiness.”

I was at a loss for words, having long regarded her as a sister, but tried to take in what my Mother had said earlier about her view of Jenny’s feelings, presumably confessed to her mother, who had always been a close friend of my mother. But then she broke off the embrace and skipped away to speak to the group of girlfriends of the Brown boys. Before I could get the possible implications of that kiss sorted out in my logical mind, I was swamped with orders for more platefuls of grilled chicken, steaks and sausages from my stockpile and I loaded a few more fresh ones on the grill to cook. The beauty of cooking too much food on the BBQ is that most of it can be eaten cold later in the week or provide filling for sandwiches. With so many fast growing males in the Brown household I assumed that leftovers rarely went to waste.

Most of the youngsters were on their second platefuls before three new arrivals came through the garden gate and I stood up from enjoying my own repast sitting next to Carla to greet them, with Carla still holding one of my hands and holding out a hand for Brie to come join us.

“Hi Mum,” I said, giving the first of the arrivals to reach me a one-handed hug, then I turned to Carla, “Carla, this is my mother, Cathy Taylor, Mum this is Carla Brown...”

“Pleased to meet you Mrs Taylor.”

“Oh, call me Cathy, dear, please, come here!” Mrs Taylor was released by me and she put both arms around Carla and gave her a warm hug.

“ ... and this, Mum,” I continued proudly, “is your granddaughter Bryanna Myra Brown, Brie for short.”

Mrs Taylor released her hug around Carla and turned her attention to the little girl standing expectantly beside her mother. She dropped to her haunches and held her arms out to the little girl.

“Hello, Princess, I’m your other Nan, Nanny Catherine. I’ve been dying to see you all day, can you comegive me a hug?”

“Yes,” Brie said with a smile and fell into her arms. Cathy Taylor clutched the little girl to her with tears in her eyes. She looked towards me, “Oh Bryan, Carla, she’s absolutely beautiful, just as you said she was. Thank you, I believe she’s the spitting image of my dear sister Helen.”

I whispered in Carla’s ear, “Helen was about four or five years younger than Mum and died when she was about 10. We only have a couple of grainy snapshots of her at home.” I didn’t say anything but, from those tiny overexposed and faded photos, I really couldn’t tell if Brie was a good match of Helen or not.

Carla released her hand holding onto mine and knelt down to embrace the pair and soon all three were shedding tears of joy. I looked down the three generations of Taylor and soon-to-be-Taylors, none of them originally born as Taylors, and my heart melted too.

Then, while my attention was diverted by the scene before me, I was almost bowled over by Aunt Ann, my father’s youngest sister. She put her arms around the middle of her favourite nephew and squeezed me, burying her head in my chest.

“Hi, Aunt Ann,” I managed while I had still had air in my lungs.

I looked up and the hulking figure of my mother’s boyfriend, Arthur Campbell, had come to the BBQ in his best Scottish kilt, a reflection of him embracing his heritage, although his family had been born in London and then lived Brighton for several generations. His long ginger hair was thinning on top and streaked with grey, but he had a certain bearing and always had a lively twinkle in his eye and a taste for getting full enjoyment out of life. Having stayed with them a couple of times, I was certain that he and my mother were deeply in love, but Mum was still uncertain about her ability to hold onto a man having lost a husband to a much younger woman, before she could commit to a new marriage.

Arthur pumped my hand, while Aunt Ann joined in the group hug with the three most important women in my life. Aunt Ann was definitely a close fourth in that category.

Now that everyone I want to be present was there, I saw my chance. The ring box was already burning a hole in my pocket, and Carla was aware that I was only awaiting the arrival of my mother before officially popping the question.

“Carla,” I said, as she looked up with the same tears in her eyes as my mother.

I got down on my bended knee and pulled the ring box out of my pocket. Suddenly the hubbub of background chatter died away as I had the undivided attention of everyone at the party.

“I am on my knee, bent in front of your family, my family, and you my Darling Carla. I declare my eternal love for you and my daughter Brie, and express my desire that you will consent to accept this ring and become my wife.” I flipped open the ring box to reveal a modest diamond engagement ring, but one which we had chosen together that morning.

Carla stood and with both hands wrapped around my face, bent down for a sweet little kiss and said, “Yes, Bryan, I accept your ring and the love you offer and I will marry you as soon as we are able. Please stand by me as equals because I believe you love me just as much as I love you.”

As I rose up from my knee to place the ring on her outstretched hand, there was a sudden cry from the garden gate.

“Huh! Some love, eh, Taylor? You should know that ma bitch Carla has always loved me, you idiot!”

There stood Gary Cox with a bottle of beer cradled in one hand, wearing clothes that he looked like he had slept in for a couple of days and clearly he was carrying a sizable beer gut he had been working on in the more than four years since I last saw him.

“Go away Gary,” Carla yelled back, strong on volume but projected quite calmly, “You are not invited here, either today or any other day. I do not love you, I have never loved you. When we dated as no more than kids, you smothered me all the time, imposing the limits of your inadequate personality on me. Together with Bryan, we and our children can soar and be ourselves.”

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