Chapter 4

Clarification: "Wetting the babies head!" Celebration that a birth has gone safely and successfully.

For the first three days after Beverley returned from her visit to her sister, I didn't think she suspected a thing. She didn't say anything or act any differently towards me than she had done previously.

It was on the Monday night following her trip to Norwich that Beverley let me know that she knew about all what I'd done to, or rather with, her girls.

The first inkling that I got that she knew, although I didn't recognise it as such at the time, because, well, you'll understand after you read on. But I did fear exactly what was going on at the time for obvious reasons. My confusion was caused by what the girls had said about Bev intending to join me in bed, and it kind of clouded the issue.

Anyway I was in the shower that night and I heard the door to the kitchen open; then I felt the cold draught come around the shower curtain, that announced that I had company. I assumed that it was Millie; but a Millie who - unlike was her habit - didn't climb straight into the shower with me.

When I pulled the curtain back to see why Millie hadn't joined me in the shower, the sight of a very naked Beverley standing there smiling back at me, greeted me.

"I thought it was about time you made it a full house, Mack!" Beverley said, with that smile on her face getting bigger as she looked over my naked form.

I was most likely smiling back at the sight that I was beholding, as well. I don't think I picked up on the "full house" comment. Well, not consciously anyway; I was too busy marvelling at the thought that the forty-something-year-old Beverley had retained her figure so well.

Look, just because a woman looks good with all those undergarments they wear keeping things roughly where they should be, doesn't mean things are going to remain that way when she's naked.

Anyway remember, this was the woman who warned me off touching her girls. Several times she'd mentioned castration that I could recall, and Beverley - although a fair looking woman for her age, who had as I could plainly see maintained her figure far better than most - was one tough cookie. Believe me, a threat from Beverley wasn't to be taken lightly. But I think the lecherous side of my mind was doing all the real thinking that night.

I didn't move though. I really do believe that in the back on my mind somewhere, I expected Beverley to produce a knife any minute and complete the task she had threatened in the past. Although, being stark naked there really weren't many places she could hide one. I must have just stood there and stared at her with a silly grin on my face. Was it nerves about having laid the twins, or was it the anticipation of enjoying Beverley's undoubted charms. I'm buggered if I have any idea now.

"What's up? Isn't this old body good enough for the young stud?" she asked.

"No, Beverley you've got a wonderful figure. You just took me by surprise, that's all," I blustered, reaching for a towel.

But Bev beat me to it, snatching the towel from the rail and attacking me with it, rubbing me down with vigour. When she considered me dry enough for her needs, she led me by holding on to my by then rampant again member to my bed. I think my little mate must have gone up and down like a bleeding yoyo whilst I'd tried to understand the true reason for Beverley's visit. Once she took me in hand he was ready for just about anything, and definitely raring to go.

Once we got close to the bed, there was no messing around on Bev's behalf. She put her arms around my neck and clamped her lips against mine, her tongue trying to locate my tonsils I think; then she dragged me down on top of her onto the bed.

As with Millie and the girls, although there was plenty of kissing and cuddling involved, it wasn't really any proper love making. We fucked each other silly every which way that you could think of doing it, and maybe a couple more for the next hour or so. I do believe that Beverley knew more positions than Millie and me between us.

After a good couple of hours of strenuous exercise Beverley and I were laying there in each other's arms.

"Did you have them both in bed together, or did you fuck them separately?" she suddenly asked.

"Sorry?" I replied feeling worried again and feigning ignorance of what Beverley was referring to. I figured that was the most diplomatic course to steer at the time.

"Michelle and Patricia, did you fuck them together or separately?" she asked more clearly this time.

I was scratching around in my brain trying to come up with an answer of some description that wouldn't lead to Beverley castrating me with her bare hands.

"Mack, I'm not exactly daft. You realise that with no men in the house, the girls tend to walk around in negligees at night, don't you? Now you turn up here and less than a week later Millie has suddenly decided to do without her pubic hair any more. Then some months later I go away for a few days and when I return I find that both my daughters have decided to go sans pubic hair as well. It doesn't take a bloody rocket scientist to realise that someone very skilled, has been chewing away on their pussies, now does it?"

"And from the racket that Millie makes when you're chewing on hers. Oh, by the way that chimney over there is connected to the fireplace in my bedroom and every sound you make in here carries up the damned thing. And before you ask, yes, I have been getting myself off to the sound of Millie's ecstatic cries ever since you got here. Anyway I had a good idea just how good you were going to be, and I can't blame my girls for wanting to sample some of the pie." Beverley then lent closer to me and kissed me on the nose.

"You don't mind, that they slept with me?" I asked somewhat tentatively.

"Mack, they are both old enough now to get into bed with whoever they wish, and there's sod all that I can do to stop them. If they want a roll in the hay, I think I'd rather it be with you than some snotty little shit that they picked up in that college they go to. Or any of the shit slingers we've got around here; some of them aren't too clever either. At least you are a bit choosey."

She smiled at me again, and we kissed properly.

"Mind I thought you pushed your luck a bit with that married bird - what was her name, Mary, wasn't it?"

"You knew about her?" I said in surprise.

"The chimney, stupid. I can hear every word said in this room if I try. If you didn't have the telly or radio on all the time, you'd probably would have heard me moving about in my room."

"Not very observant, am I?" I replied.

"I've lived here a long time, Mack. That chimney let me hear the last barman I had, and his mate, planning on shagging both my girls when they were too young to know any better. Now they are of an age where they can make their own decisions; they can shag whoever they like, when they like and there's sweet FA that I can do to stop them. I can't watch them every minute of every day, can I? But I intend to get my share of the fun as well. Have you got any objection to that?"

"No, baby, I've had one hell of a time with you tonight," I replied.

I have no idea why I started calling Beverley baby when we were in bed together. Maybe it was because I knew she was conscious of the age gap between us, I'm not sure. But she was the only one that I called my baby. Bev developed the habit of calling me stud in the bedroom as well; I've got no idea why, perhaps she did considered me her private stud.

"Good, that's settled then," Beverley said that after a moments silence and another kiss, "Okay, now if you're happy with things, then all we've got to sort out is how we are going to avoid Millie and me turning up here at the same time; that could prove embarrassing. The girls, well, them you'll have to fit in when you can. As their mother I can't very well go arranging their sexual encounters with you for them, can I? It just wouldn't be right. Here, I'm not saying that you can't shag them though. That's between you and them. But they will have to play second or is it third fiddle?" Beverley said with an unaccustomed giggle.

Then she decided it was time to get down to the business at hand again.

Before I knew it, Christmas was rushing up on us and that meant the pub bars had to be hung with Christmas streamers, etcetera. Plus I had to discover a way of somehow fitting the nine foot tree that Beverley had purchased, under the less than seven-six foot - at its highest point — ceiling. That called for a little modification (of the tree) with a saw, much to Beverley's chagrin.

Also hundreds of Christmas cards began to arrive mostly from folks who'd just spent a night or two tied up on the river by the pub. It appeared that they had all enjoyed their brief stay with us, and considered us all as their friends. Some even made kind comments about Marge. I think it was mainly Bev and Millie whom people remembered. Bev, although she looked pretty young for her forty odd years, was referred to as if she was everybody's mother.

And Millie, well who could every forget her. Calling everybody Luvver or Luvvy — male and females alike - her outspoken use of extremely plain and down to earth language, her almost non-stop repartee of questionable jokes, and suggestive comments. And of course those knockers that nobody either male or female are likely to forget in a hurry and the way she seemed to make fun of them all the time.

There were some cards from young men whom Michelle and Patricia had obviously stolen the hearts of as well. As well as just a few that Beverley suggested were aimed in my direction.

"One 'ere from some woman call Mary, Mack. Says 'er divorce is going through and she hopes to visit next year with her sister and her husband. Looks like you can look forward to having another hot night or two with her next season," Bev announced with a grin over breakfast one morning.

"Don't he get enough hot nights around here?" Michelle quipped.

"Now, Chelle, don't be begrudging our Mack a little fun," Pat quipped back at her.

If there was some pretence that Bev didn't know that the girls were finding plenty of opportunities to join me in bed, I couldn't understand how it would last much longer.

A few days later I was outside when the postman arrived and I took the mail from him. Amongst them were some cards to me from my family — I recognised the handwriting — and also two cards, one to Millie in Julia's handwriting, and one to Beverley in my mother's. Neither girl mentioned those Christmas cards to me later.

Then a few days after that, I was nipping down to the Cash and Carry and Beverley asked me to drop some cards off at the post office for her. Having handed them to me she suddenly appeared to change her mind, took them back from me and asked me to wait whilst she went into the kitchen.

Of course I watched as best I could, to see what she was doing and saw that after looking through the stack of cards, she removed one and placed in her handbag; then she came back out into the bar — almost catching me spying on her - and gave me the rest of the cards.

Millie told me later that the card was addressed to my mother. Yeah, I asked her to spy for me! I took no action of any kind over that card; Beverley had the perfect right to write to whomever she wants to.

All four of my women did bug me to send cards in reply to the ones I'd received though. Out voted by four to one, with the cards and stamps already bought and paid for, I had little choice but to concede. Although one, that I threw in the fire in front of all of them, without opening, didn't get replied too; it was postmarked Bristol.

It appeared that my family, for some reason, had assumed that I would be short of money. Public house employees in the UK by tradition aren't on what you'd call a very good wage scale. So I must suppose that was the logic they were using. In truth, I did very well working for Bev. About the only expense that I ever had was my car, but as I was rarely going out, I hardly ever used it. Whatever the reason, in the Christmas cards from my family that I received, almost all contained cheques of assorted values. None of which I ever cashed or paid into the bank, by the way!

Christmas morning - my first Christmas away from home — was somewhat different to any I'd had before. Millie had spent most of the night with me, but I assume by pre-arrangement with the twins, left my bed about four A.M. Shortly after she left the twins arrived in my bedroom, from where they left for the kitchen to prepare breakfast for everyone. Oh, via my shower of course.

We didn't open the pub that morning until nearly half twelve. We'd planned twelve o'clock, but it took slightly longer going to church than anticipated. Yeah, Beverley dragged all four of us (kicking and screaming) to church that morning.

I'm going to say that it was an interesting experience. Almost everyone in the nearby village was there. Excepting for old Bert who'd been left standing guard over the pub with half a bottle of whisky to keep him happy. With all five of us in church it would have been too much of a temptation to the less honest folks of the district to leave the pub deserted.

Of course Millie's beau, Philip, was there but he, being a churchwarden or something and also being in the choir, didn't sit with Millie. She sat beside me and spent most of the service pointing out which females our lecher of a Vicar was banging on a regular basis. Jesus, and I thought I had some stamina. Brave bugger as well some of those women had some pretty big and strong looking husbands sitting with them.

I think the funniest part of the whole thing was watching George our local PC Plod's wife, looking daggers at Beverley. Actually once we got outside and all the inane chat and Merry Christmas wishes were being passed around, I think I spotted what her problem really was with Bev. Bev's twins were standing talking with George's daughter and her husband, I'd say they had been at school together and were old friends. The thing I spotted was that when Michelle was holding George's daughter's baby. Well, to the uninitiated, anyone would have assumed it was Michelle's baby, the likeness was that pronounced.

It was the same kind of likeness that I'd noticed between the two girls and Beverley but I realised that Michelle's features that weren't Beverley's had obviously come from George. Whether Millie had noticed them in the past and decided to not mention them to me for some reason, I have no idea, although Millie had suggested George as one possible candidate for being the father of one of the twins.

Presents were given out at the pub whilst we ate our Christmas Dinner. We'd closed the pub again at two so we could sit down and eat as if we were an extended family. Even Old Bert stayed to dinner, but with the quantity of whisky he'd consumed I doubt he remembered much about it. Millie and I had to drive him home later.

All the girls - well, I suppose it was Bev who arranged it - had clubbed together and bought me an expensive watch with several complicated timers and alarms on it. They seemed to think it was a great joke, but it was some days before I realised the significance of those timers.

We had quite a few customers in that night, but most didn't stay late. By the time I got to bed I was pretty well raring to go with Millie. She had been rubbing those Bristols of hers across my back behind the bar all evening, and both Michelle and Patricia had groped my cock behind there as well, when they thought the coast was clear.

Anyway it was a bit of a surprise when all three of them arrived in my room. Carefully I put the board that I'd got one of the boatyard workers to supply me with over the entrance to the fireplace. Yeah, well, everyone's got a right to a bit of privacy now and again, anyway I discovered it made Beverley a damn sight more frustrated when she hadn't been able to get herself off whilst listening to Millie and my antics.

Oh, yeah, I worked out later, that there were other listening voyeurs in the house as well, but I'll tell you about that in a little while.

Anyway after shutting Beverley's listening tube down, Millie let me in on what the girls had planned for the night and it gave me a whole new perspective on the girls' behaviour. It seemed they had decided to give me a very different kind of Christmas present. It was to take the form of a little show or play or so they claimed. After watching them in action, I very much doubted that there was any acting involved.

I was instructed to sit on the sofa in my room and Michelle slid onto my lap to start with, whilst Patricia and Millie started making out together on my bed. They claimed that it was that damned magazine that Millie was supposed to have found again. In there, they claimed — look, by this time I was taking just about anything these girls told me with a large helping a salt - that there was an article that said that men found watching two women having a lesbian sexual encounter exciting.

Yeah, well, once Pat and Millie got their little show started, I had to agree with that article, if it ever existed. But one thing I was sure of was that it wasn't the first time they'd been together. Michelle, in the meantime, slipped off my lap and was sitting between my legs, "Pretty Woman" style, demonstrating her skills as a fellator.

I couldn't help but notice that although both Millie and Patricia were pretending to be engrossed in what they were doing, they were also engrossed in every move that Michelle made; well, Patricia was, Millie didn't have much chance of seeing anything but Pat's stomach now and again. And very unsurprisingly for me, no sooner had Michelle brought me to my climax than Patricia seemed to reach one as well.

Damn it, Patricia had got off - be it with the help of Millie's ministrations - on watching Michelle giving me a blowjob. Never in my life did I think that I'd run into women as kinky as these ones appeared to be.

Anyway Patricia and my climaxing rapidly led to Michelle and Patricia swapping places. Michelle and Millie, like Patricia and myself, went into a prolonged snogging session for a while. Then Pat went down on me, and Millie started chewing on Michelle's pussy. This time Michelle stared into my eyes, at the same time as she uttered encouragement to Millie, whilst hanging on to Millie's head with both hands and bucking her hips up into her face.

I came to the conclusion that I was being taken advantage of, just as much, and maybe even more, than I had been taking advantage of these very willing sex partners of mine.

I thought that it was obvious - to me at least - that Millie and the twins had been getting it on together for sometime, they were so comfortable with each other and really seemed to enjoy themselves. It could be that having me watch them excited them and increased their enjoyment even more. Who's to say for sure?

And using the same logic, it was quite possible that Millie was also getting it on with Beverley. It could possibly go some way to explaining the nights that the somewhat obsessed with sex Millie hadn't come down to join me and some where she hadn't stayed for nearly all of the night.

Whatever, these realisations, didn't lead me to worry about them. Hey, if the girls were getting it on together, then it was even less likely that they would look outside the pub for sexual partners. That meant there was much less of a chance of any of them picking up anything nasty and passing it on to me. So I let the status quo stand, without making comment.

New Year's Eve was great fun in the pub, and a little crowded. I got the feeling that everybody in the village was there. Even Mrs PC Plod put in an appearance for a while just before midnight. I noted several of the regulars placing themselves in positions, so that Bev and her couldn't see each other though. Quite comical, if you happened to know about the history between George and Beverley.

I think it was one cold wet and windy night sometime in early February that Mike, Julia's husband, turned up at the pub. We hadn't seen a real customer for an hour or so; the twins, Millie and myself were sitting by the fire playing cards. Beverley was upstairs in her lounge watching one of her soaps, I believe.

Anyway the door suddenly opened and in walked a very wet and bedraggled Mike. You know what body language is like; it was obvious to me that Millie had met Mike before. Those ten minutes that Millie took before she spoke to me that day Julia had visited, sprung to mind.

Mike would have had to drive Julia up to the pub (Julia always had had zero sense of direction and could get lost driving to the shop on the corner) and I recalled that there had been two coffee cups on the table that day.

Whilst Mike and I said hello, and I had pulled him a pint, Millie and the girls had quietly disappeared. I wondered whether Millie had been expecting Mike's arrival; I was well aware that she had been in correspondence with my sister from the Christmas card that Julia had sent her.

Mike and I settled by the fire and he explained he was on his way back from Kings Lynn where he'd been working for a few days.

"Just thought I'd drop in and see you whilst I was passing!" Mike explained.

'Passing! Come off it, Mike, ' I thought. It was some detour from his route to call in at the pub. But on reflection, it wasn't that far out of the way that I wouldn't consider making the same detour myself to visit a member of the family if I were in his position.

For some time our chat revolved around mundane things, like everyone in the family's health, etc. But then Mike seemed to take a deep breath and changed the subject; for a little while I had no idea where he was heading.

"Mack, that mate of yours, Tony!" Mike said and then as if reminding me of who Tony was. "You know the guy you were always going fishing with."

"Yeah, what about him?" I asked.

"Well, I ran into him and a couple of your other fishing friends over the new year." Mike looked at me as if this statement was meant to mean something significant to me.

"Yeah?" was all that I could think of in reply.

"When we were talking they told Julia and me that you came home early from that last fishing trip you went on with them. Well, they said as the fishing was off on the Saturday you went back home again on the Friday night."

"Yeah, there was a storm brewing and I couldn't see much point in staying down there just to get pissed," I informed him.

"Yeah, well, you didn't go home that night, did you? You went to Lindsey's place and thought that you saw her with another bloke, didn't you?" Mike was speaking with conviction now, as if he knew better than I did what I'd seen.

"There's no thought about it, Mike! I did see Lindsey with another guy. A squaddy on leave, he'd just flown back from Belize."

I thought that this bit of information took Mike by surprise, the fact that I knew some details about the guy and where he'd just returned from. He seemed to think for a few seconds before he continued.