Chapter 32: Operation Saturday

Saturday was to be a big day. All week, I had been organising it like a military campaign. And the objectives of Operation Saturday were twofold: (a) to clear up Albert's house, and (b) to get me laid as much as possible.

The former task had been outstanding for over a fortnight now. At first I had procrastinated because it looked like such hard, dirty work; then the increasingly dramatic effects of FUCK had given me other things to worry about. But now, I was looking forward to the job I had originally regarded with such distaste. Let me confess frankly that this was because I should no longer have to do it myself.

As for the second objective, getting laid, partly I saw it as useful practice for the following weekend (an undress rehearsal, as it were), but mainly it just seemed like a good idea.

Let me say at once that thanks to meticulous planning Operation Saturday was an unqualified success.

The previous night I had restored Wendy to her rightful place in the main bedroom so Alicia had her room to herself while Florence, who had returned as instructed to her college during the day to attend to her studies and notify her big boyfriend that his services would no longer be required, slept downstairs on the sofa as befitted her lowly station. I myself gravitated between all three but made sure I started and finished with Wendy.

Florence served Wendy and Alicia their breakfasts downstairs and brought me mine in bed; then the three of them left for Albert's house in the car. There they would find Fran, who had let herself in at seven o'clock so she could take delivery of the new mattress I had ordered. The four of them then set to the first task of the day, which was to get Albert's disgusting bedroom into usable condition with the cleaning materials Wendy had bought the previous evening. The bed itself, a solid metal structure, would be fine after a good clean but the horrible old mattress and bedding all had to go and the room itself needed a thorough scrubbing before the new mattress came out of its cover and the bed could be made up with the new linen that Wendy had also bought. It took the four of them over two hours of very hard work but at the end of it the room, although a bit bare, was thoroughly clean and the bed looked very inviting.

By this time Connie and Gabby had arrived and Wendy had assigned them the unpleasant task of getting the bathroom and shower into a condition in which a civilised person might be willing to use them.

It must not be thought that I was idle while all this was going on. On the contrary, I had been fulfilling my duties to Kylie, whom I had shamefully neglected all week. I rang her just as Wendy and the girls left and she was knocking at the door almost before I had replaced the phone. I fucked her senseless, then read the paper while she recuperated and showered. While she was towelling off and getting dressed I called a cab and we joined the others at Albert's house.

It was a heartening sight that met my eyes. It is my considered opinion that there are few spectacles more truly satisfying than that of other people working hard. With the twins, who had driven down from Cambridge and got there just before I did, plus Kylie, there were nine labourers in all. I had warned them it would be arduous and dirty work so they should dress down, and they were duly attired in a variety of torn or frayed old clothes. With nothing but my own viewing pleasure in mind, I had also specified "no underwear, and not too much overwear" so there was plenty of sweaty, dusty flesh on display. Florence, in some old teeshirt that was far too tight about the chest but absurdly loose everywhere else, particularly caught the eye. Not only mine, in fact; several times I saw girls watching fascinated by the extraordinary undulations as she performed so simple an act as bending down and picking something up.

Wendy alone was exempt from the requirement for skimpy attire. The work was being carried on under her overall direction and she marshalled her labour force expertly. Everywhere I looked there was a beautiful woman clearing away this or scrubbing that. In the front room the piles of dirty books were rapidly disappearing, while all scientific periodicals were handed to Fran, who had the relatively congenial task of sorting them and filing them by date and subject matter. The revolting mess that had been Albert's house was being rapidly restored to order and cleanliness and all I had to do was watch.

Well, maybe there was one other thing I could do. That newly prepared bed was for use, not for show. Gabby looked so indescribably sexy in trainers and a large male shirt and absolutely nothing else that she had to be first, and after that I took one of the twins. They were wearing some old schoolgirl-type outfits topped by baseball caps so it was not until I got my selection to the bedroom and saw her bareheaded that I knew it was Vicky on whom my choice had fallen.

When I emerged from fucking her I had a look round the house. I was most impressed by the girls' progress so I sent Fran and Connie out to buy soft drinks and sandwiches and on their return I ordered a break. Eight girls and I (the ninth, Vicky, was still floating blissfully in the bedroom) sat in the front room, chatting happily, munching sandwiches, drinking juice, and generally recovering from our labours. After a while I ordered Florence to stand up and remove her shirt. There was a collective intake of breath as the incredible tits were exposed. I then instructed her to progress very slowly about the room and exhibit her chest to the other girls, each of whom should be allowed a close inspection, and a good feel if she wished. Then I told Florence to replace her shirt and sit down. "Right," I said. "We've all had a good look. Now, can we focus on the task in hand and not on Florence's tits? Back to work, ladies, all except—" I looked round at the sea of hopeful faces. "Fran, I think."

Several hours later I was able to congratulate all concerned on an arduous job well done. Albert's house looked rather stark, because his carpets and soft furnishings had all gone the same way as his dirty books, old clothes and discarded food packaging, but it was spotlessly clean and was at last in a state that would allow me to get an estate agent to market it. Vicky and Simone had left to spend the night at George's before seeing him and Sue off to New York tomorrow, but the rest of us sat in a big circle in the front room passing a bottle of wine back and forth and relaxing after our exertions. Even I was tired, and not just from the shagging; some faint residue of chivalry had obliged me to insist that it was my task to carry endless rubbish-stuffed binliners outside to await the refuse collectors.

The girls basked in my approval, their faces shiny with honest sweat and wreathed in blissful well-fucked smiles. As they gazed adoringly at me I almost burst with pride. How could it be wrong, I asked myself smugly, to be the instrument that generated so much pleasure? Fran seemed to speak for them all: "Hard work," she said, "but well rewarded. Thank you, darling."

Wendy I had left until I got her home, but I had taken all the other eight, four of them twice. Added to my efforts in the morning before leaving home, this meant fifteen copulations in the day, which was something like the rate I should have to maintain at George's next weekend. This makes it sound a bit clinical, like a production line, but what also pleased me as I drifted off to sleep after a long day was that my final fuck with Wendy had been just as satisfying and the spunk had flowed just as freely as when I had started the day with the same woman all those hours before.

I reflected on this next day as I took stock of the situation between fucks with Wendy, Alicia, Kylie, and Florence. It seemed that both my desire and my capacity for sex were still increasing nearly three weeks after that fatal night when I had swallowed Albert's potion. In particular, I was spunking in quantities that were truly copious, and I drank pint after pint of milk to replenish my fluids.