Chapter 3: At the Brown Residence Friday Evening

“Blimey love, giv’us a chance to get me jockeys off.” Carla’s dad Barry said in an agitated tone, “What’s got into you tonight? All that yawning and ‘we got a big day tomorrow’ stuff to start with, just after Carla put Brie to bed and drove off to work. Then when George said ‘Right, Dad, I understand it’s my round’, and I said, ‘Too bloody right, son,’ and you then spring on me that universal code line about, ‘We need to talk, and I mean talk, now. Bedroom!’ I tell you, love, you fair put the willies up me.”

Carla’s mum, Myra was sitting up in bed, with the pink sheer nightie that Santa brought her for Christmas, one so private that it wasn’t actually left under the Christmas tree. Barry could smell the heady perfume from the doorway, it smelt like a Persian harem, or how he imagined one would if he ever found himself in one.

“There will definitely be some ‘Willy up me’ later Darling,” Myra said, putting on that husky voice Barry usually associates with the bedroom at playtime, “but first things first, we need to talk.”

Part of his apprehension at the ‘We need to talk’ phrase aimed at him earlier, was drifting away to now be replaced by a fear of the unknown. Mentally, while he was in the shower, he had ticked off possible causes for her behaviour. Number one was that she’d pranged her car, but it was happily sitting in the drive when he got home from work and any crash damage wasn’t obvious; Carla’s very old car was parked on the road as usual, so she wouldn’t get boxed in, and again, no damage was evident and apparently she drove off to work without any problem; then he was almost certain after he flushed that he hadn’t left a ‘floater’ in the downstairs toilet this morning; and finally he was pretty sure she wasn’t aware exactly, or even vaguely, how much he’d paid in cash for those Rugby League Cup Final tickets that he hadn’t told her about yet as the time wasn’t right and that time definitely wasn’t tonight. He sighed, no matter what problem you solve in life, there’s always another riddle just around the next corner to surprise you.

“So, what now, Myra my love?”

She smiled her bedroom smile and she asked, “Barry, can you assure me you’ve shit, shaved, showered and are ready to rock’n’roll, right?”

“Yesss?” he replied hesitatingly, after all, his body wasn’t due another shit for eight hours. Barry was regular as clockwork, knowing the building regulations stipulated he had to have a chemical toilet on site but he wasn’t going to be forced to use one of them except in dire emergencies, so was was regular as clockwork before going off to work every day, while Sunday’s he generally waited until the newspaper arrived.

In response to his positive reply she simply drew the bedclothes back on his side of the bed, revealing more of her negligée, which, as he now recalled, was completely negligent in its role as an item of clothing that actually had anything substantial in the way of clothing. Almost unnecessarily, she held up an open palm to her eye level and, with her curling index finger, summoned her willing victim into her hot clutches.

“Bloody hell, My,” he gulped as he obeyed her unspoken ‘come on’.

Ever since the five kids had put in their appearances, popping up at roughly regular intervals during the first decade of their marriage, Barry and Myra had settled into a pretty regular and, though they thought so themselves, rather spectacular routine of sex on a Saturday night plus a rigorous reprise on Sunday morning, completing just before the kids demanded their breakfast.

He wasn’t really prepared for this turn of events on a Friday night, especially after all the banter from his three eldest sons during the day had centred on them all enjoying a full night at the grand opening of the new gastric pub in the town centre next to the river. But then, at his age, 55, he dare not look a gift horse of bonus pussy in the mouth.

It all hinged on the catch. When something so good as this was in the offing, he knew there had to be a catch.

“Look, Myra, I was hoping to be on a promise for tomorrow night after stunning you with my outdoor culinary skills during the afternoon, but you remember, the reason for the BBQ tomorrow was to celebrate George joining the firm last Monday, and part of the same family company tradition is that he buys the Boss, that’s me, beer all night on the next Friday night. Remember love, even Elton John says Saturday night is ripe for dancing, and that’s when we usually do the old Horizontal Hokey Cokey.”

“Well, ... my ... darling ... man,” Myra breathed, kissing him softly on the lips with pouting lips and no tongue between her words, and rubbing the outside of the boxers that were his usual bed wear from Sunday to Friday, “I ... will ... let ... you ... drink ... all ... after ... noon ... then, ... won’t ... I? But now, lover, ... I need to get you up to ... speed.”

“Blimey, My, you keep this up and I’ll be overtaking you, in the outside lane in top gear.”

“Mmmm,” she determined, “I suppose I am not going to be able to get any real sense out of any conversation with you tonight, am I? At least until we get the elephant in the room out of the way.”

Myra pushed on his chest with both hands so he was flat on his back, his head at the foot of the bed. She yanked at his boxers with a command of “Lift your arse, Darling,” with which he complied without thinking and she tossed the offending pants away, to land on the chest of drawers (an irony that escaped the pair of them) as she grabbed his alert member, before she settled herself down across the bed flat on her stomach and engulfed the knob head in her hot, wet mouth.

“Oh, My, if you go straight into one of your famous blow jobs, you’ll finish me before we even get started,” Barry groaned, “why not turn and scoot your bum up here and I’ll see if I can get you up to steam.”

“Don’t distract me,” Myra gasped breathlessly, still pumping his cock furiously by hand, “I’m a girl on a mission here, and I have only a few seconds in which to accept this mission impossible before it explodes in front of my eyes!” And with a laugh she carried on sucking with gusto, working her tongue around the head, then with particularly furious licking aimed at the bottom of the gland. Barry’s breathing laboured.

“Oh my good God, My,” he murmured, finding it hard to breathe enough to formulate words in any recognisable language, “Ungh, ooh, ooo, argh! Fuuuuuuuck! Here it comes!”

Barry’s body was wracked with jerks, almost throwing his wife of over 28 years off the steely grip she held onto her favourite sex toy. She stayed on target and, pump after pump, she sucked him dry.

“Oh God, love, that must’ve been a world record for BJs!”

Her eyes sparkling and alive, still softly sucking and holding onto his rapidly deflating cock. As he lifted his head off the foot of the bed to look at the woman who had always fulfilled his life, all thought of holding up the bar of the new pub faded from his forethoughts. He knew there would be no holding any bar up, for a while yet. But, boy oh boy, was he relaxed! That was good, he asked himself, right? Right, was his immediate answer, although he felt unasked questions, actually more than one, remained.

As their eyes met, she lifted her head up slightly and his slippery cock plopped out of her mouth with a “pop!’ and slapped against his lower stomach, before slipping away to the left and pretty much out of sight. Myra smiled at him in triumph.

He was a beaten man, happy, admittedly, blissfully so as every muscle in his body was shutting down and whispering to himself ‘g’night, Baz, see you in the morning’, resigned to believe that there was no point in beating around the bush, she was definitely in charge of his life and happiness, and right now, although he knew that she knew she had him exactly where she wanted him to be, he was exactly where he wanted to be, anyway, sated and perfectly happy. What could possibly go wrong?

“All right, love,” Barry found once he’d got his breath back, reminding himself that he had really had absolutely nothing to contribute to what was definitely the most satisfying event of the whole week for him so far. “Now you’ve got that one out of the way and I am literally putty in your hands or mouth, what is it you wanted to discuss with me?”

“First of all, Darling,” she smiled, “scoot up to the top of the bed, I can’t do much talking to your feet and hairy arse all night.” Myra moved the short distance back to her place and sat upright, plumping a couple of pillows behind her back.

With a little effort he rolled over, then got on all fours, during which Myra couldn’t resist slapping him playfully across the bottom. He may have been shaking his head both ways as his head hovered round into Myra’s view, but at least he was sporting as big a satisfied smile as she was.

“You look like the cat that got the cream,” Myra grinned.

Barry laughed and winked, “oh contrare, mon amiee, I am sure you swallowed all the cream there was going.”

“True,” she giggled, as they cuddled, with Myra’s cheek resting on Barry’s chest and Barry’s arm around her, with a couple of fingers gently stroking the side of her breast, “and it was scrumptious as ever, Darling.”

“So, what brought this on, love, have they started showing Women’s Hour porn on Friday afternoon TV or something?”

“No, not yet, Darling.” Myra couldn’t help giggling. “Well ... You know the kind of relationship that I have always tried to build with Carla, where I try to be both mother and sister to her, where we trust each other and are open and honest together, don’t you?”

“I know, love, and with all the testosterone flying around here all week, with George on the crew and John and Paul throwing their weight around to keep themselves ahead of the fresh competition, I suppose it was inevitable that Carla was feeling a bit left out and was looking for some feminine conversation a little above toddler level.”

“No, it’s not that. The reason my libido was all fired up was because Carla reminded me, by reciting, almost blow for blow, the best oral sex she had ever experienced. She got me so wet that I’ve been wanting to have you in bed like this since before four o’clock this afternoon.”

“What?!” Barry groaned, “I’m not sure if I want to hear that she’s now learned how to do blinding blow jobs from her Mum, nor do I want to know who she’s currently using her techniques on. Especially if it’s some bloke I know.”

“Of course she has learned the A-Z of ‘how to’, Darling, she’s my greatest protégé. No, what she was describing in graphic, even porn story eloquence, happened to her years ago. I was referring to the fact that she appears to have experienced oral stimulation from someone who by her account could be as expert in that cunning art as you are, my Darling.”

“You mean, she’s actually considering starting a relationship with some guy again?”

“I hope so. She’s invited him to the BBQ tomorrow, Darling, and I wanted this conversation with you because I need you to be on your best behaviour when you meet him and during the rest of tomorrow afternoon and early evening.”

“Sure, baby doll, you can rely on me to welcome him, but I can’t help it, I will be checking what his long term intentions towards my only daughter and only grandchild are. I don’t want anyone ... well, as we both know, Carla’s been hurt enough and Brie has been denied access to her natural father.”

Myra could feel his previously relaxed body start to tense up. “I want you to stay calm, Darling. That’s why I wanted to speak to you tonight, so we can lose ourselves in our love and hope that we can pass on this wonderful sharing of love that exists between two people to the new happy couple.”

“Sounds fine, Myra, but why this special treatment you’re giving me? There must be something wrong with this fella that she fancies. I mean Carla goes everywhere with Brie, except when she’s working shifts up the pub. Where would she meet someone, anyone other than a stalker? That’s it, isn’t it? This boyfriend is either a pub regular heading towards alcoholism, a social services pariah, or a bloody old fart sex fiend. If he’s as good at oral sex as me, then he has either practiced on one woman for many many years, or on many many women in no bloody time at all, before moving onto his next conquest. Who is it, tell me?”

“He’s not like that, Barry. Not like any of that at all. He is her age almost exactly. He has a good job, actually starting a management position on Monday at Tanner’s Transport. He has bought one of those nice houses you like in Cooper’s Meadow, and I know for a fact that he’s one of the sweetest guys around and you will love him. And Brie already loves him, too, because she cooed on about him all afternoon.”

“Bloody hell, he sounds like he’s not of this Earth. Coming round tomorrow at high noon, is he?”

“Yes.”

“All right, I’ll give him a fair crack before I grill him,” Barry laughed, “you know, grrrillll him?”

“Yeah, funny, not!” Myra crinkled her forehead as she gazed up at him, lovingly.

He kissed her forehead, and Myra started to lick one of his hairy nipples, and he moved his free hand to squeeze a breast... “Wait, you know what this sounds like ... do you know him, Myra?”

“Yes, I do, Baz, and you do too.”

“I do?” He thought, ‘Yes, I think I know most of the boys in her class, the vast majority are not able to hold a light to Carla though.’ Most of the guys she knew had done casual labouring work for the firm, there was always a demand for spare hands and he was always fair to them and paid a proper wage. The only one of them worth a light would certainly have done for Carla, and he only worked for the firm for one summer break, because he got into some tizzy with Gary-fucking-Cox when they were what, about 15? And then the bright lad never volunteered to work again. In fact, Barry couldn’t remember whether he ever saw him since. But no, he knew that there was one boy who would never shirk his responsibilities and desert Carla and Brie. No, he was nothing like his old man, Clive, having seen him knocking about with, and knocking up, a girl only a couple of years older than Carla.

“Mmmm.” She was back to sucking his nipple now with a little more enthusiasm, and twiddling the other between her fingers, she loved getting his nipples hard because once hard they tended to stay that way for ages.

But he would not be distracted, and he didn’t believe he was as stupid and easily lead as sometimes he thought the three ages of females in his family seemed to think he was.

“So, my love, this new boyfriend, who is Carla’s age, more or less, and somehow been acquainted with her and both her parents for some time, wouldn’t happen to be the very same boyfriend who was sniffing around my little princess about four years ago, and bloody well put her up the duff, would he?”

Myra could feel he was growing louder and louder and his body more wound up like a coiled spring the longer his little monologue continued. And he had hit the nail on the head of course and Myra had wanted to avoid this at all cost. She needed to calm him down again before disturbing Brie in her bed and Richard, too young to go up the pub, who was up in his room watching a movie or playing on his PS4, hopefully with his soundproof can earphones on.

“Look, if he is the old boyfriend and Brie’s father, then having him back in Carla and Brie’s life has got to be good, Darling, right?”

“Good? Are you fucking mad, Myra?”

He was up off the bed and stomping around the bedroom now, like a caged tiger. He was never a sit-and-think-through-the-whole-thing kind of guy, he liked to be on the move, doing things, cutting up timber shuttering, shovelling builders sand, or laying bricks, while he was mulling over a situation in his head. It was all right for Myra, he thought, she saw everything through rose-tinted specs, if she hadn’t, she’d never married a common builder like him, she was targeted from day one by boys from professional backgrounds but she chose him and he would be grateful and loyal to her all the way to the grave. But when it came to the subject of single mum Carla and fatherless Brie, he was getting angry with Myra now.

“The man that did what he fucking did to my princess and then fucking well abandoned her ... He will never be welcomed into this house, Myra, never. And I cannot be bribed by you with sex or anything else to accept this except over my dead body. He ruined my girl, ruined her good and proper, and I’d rather fucking-well kill him than shake his hand and I’m certainly not up to offer him one of my prime streaks, or even an uncooked bloody sausage!”

“Darling. It is really not like that at all, there are extenuating circumstances.”

“No circumstances are good enough, Myra,” he snapped. He stopped pacing and squared up to her at the side of the bed and spoke to her directly. “Carla was always a jewel, even as a new-born, she filled our lives with joy from day one, didn’t she?”

“Yes, she’s absolutely lovely.”

“But since whatever happened on that night in spring four years ago, well it changed her. Changed her before she even knew she’d a bun in the oven. Nowadays, she’s only really happy when she’s with Brie, to the extent that sometimes I think the amount of emotion she invests in her is unnatural, and I worry about her, I worry about them both. What’s Carla gonna be like when Brie is at school all day?”

“But-”

“Hear me out, love. I’m not usually one for words, but I’ve been bottling this up for years and I’m now on a roll.”

Myra nodded, and sat on her haunches, clasping her hands together.

Barry continued, staring at his hands as he started to count on his fingers for each point, “She’s miserable pretty well all the rest of the time. She lost her career in graphics-”