12a Archdeacon Street
Copyright© 2012 by Axolotl
Chapter 4: Come As You Are - Bring A Friend
Humor Sex Story: Chapter 4: Come As You Are - Bring A Friend - A tale of blundering time-travel, quite a lot of sex, several Kleenex-worth of bitter-sweet love and tenderness, and some very big tits indeed...
Caution: This Humor Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft Consensual Romantic Science Fiction Time Travel Historical Humor Tear Jerker Exhibitionism Size Big Breasts School
Claire curled up beside him in bed.
"Ouch! Your feet are like ice, girl."
"Sorry! They'll soon warm up. Cold feet, warm heart, they say. Don't they?"
"Who says that?"
"I don't know. People with cold feet, I suppose." They were warming up, though, surprisingly quickly. "What ya reading?"
"One of Sal's books."
"Her bedtime reading? What do teenage girls read in bed? Is it a bit fruity?"
"It's about time travel."
"Time travel? Where you go in a machine, with lots of buttons and flashing lights... ?"
"An old-fashioned police phone box that's much bigger inside than outside?"
"Yes."
"No. It's someone who just finds himself in the past. Just an ordinary person." A bit like me, really.
"What happens to him?"
"Nothing much. I think he's going to fall in love."
"Typical! Sally wouldn't read it unless it was dripping with sex. Come on, then. Read it out to me!"
"No, it's not like that. It's just sort of gentle and loving."
"Well, I suppose that would do, at a pinch." She nuzzled against his arm. Her nose was cold, too. She yawned suddenly. "Shopping always makes me tired. Born to shop." She was quiet. For a long time. "Don't stay awake too long, love."
"All right. I'll just finish this chapter."
"Russ! Hi. Come on in. Wow, cool coat." She felt the sleeve with her fingers. "Where's Claire?"
"Gone to her evening class. Flower arranging or something."
"Underwater macramé. Mum's out." Sally's face was flushed. Something about her looked different. She led the way into the kitchen, and Russ hung the coat over the back of a chair.
"I know. You said she went out on Thursdays. I brought these two books back."
"Oh, good. Which ones did you read?" She took them from him and stood close. "Yes, these are great. What did you think of this one?"
Sally smelled warm and faintly animal. He stepped back half a pace. "I read it in bed. All in one night. Claire went mad at me: I didn't go to sleep until three in the morning."
"I know. I was the same. I couldn't put it down." She put it down on the table, then picked it up again: wet her lips. "Do you want to borrow any more? I've got two more of his."
"That would be nice."
"Come on up, then."
Steady, Russell! He followed the girl up the stairs. Hypnotic hips. Twitch, twitch. The little room was much the same, although the only light was the one in a lampshade by the bed. Light spilled on to the turned back covers. Clothes on the bed, lots of lacy underclothes. Three bras. Big, black bras. Three?
"I was putting my undies away. Mum threatened me." She picked up a handful of panties and opened a drawer. Then one of the bras ... she wasn't wearing one. 'Must be losing my touch, ' he thought, 'if I can't spot a bra-less girl at two paces. Especially one with tits this size.' "Help yourself! To books. His are on the left. I'll just put these bras away, then I'll go through them with you."
"Sally?"
"Yeah?"
Russ selected a book from the shelf. All the others tipped over to fill the gap. "What do you think about time travel? I mean really. Do you think it's... ?
"Possible? Do I believe in it, you mean?"
"Yes."
"It's never happened to me, so I don't know."
"But if it did? You'd want to believe it, wouldn't you?" He looked up to watch her expression.
Her eyes opened wider. Her nipples seemed to have become much larger. Perhaps it was just the angle of the light. "I suppose so," she said slowly. "You never know how you'll react, do you?"
"No, you never know." He stood up. "I'll just borrow this one. Claire will throttle me if I turn up at home with any more. I want to show you something."
"You do?"
"It's downstairs."
"Oh." She led the way, squeezing between Russ and the door, facing him, of course. She evidently misjudged the amount of room she needed. Or maybe not.
Russ picked up his coat — great grandpop's coat — and dragged something out of the pocket. "Look at this." The cap sat on his head, as much like a pizza as ever.
Sally giggled, snorting rudely. "Hey, where did you buy that? It's great!"
"I didn't buy it. A boy called Herbert lent it to me."
"What for? You going to a fancy dress? What as?"
"No. Sally, listen. It was a boy called Herbert. A boy. Herbert?"
"Funny name," said Sally in a level voice. "For a boy. When?"
"Saturday. I had to wear a hat to go out for a walk with a lady." He looked at the girl steadily.
She nodded. "Where was it? Didn't you go to Staunchbury with Mum and Claire."
"Staunchbury. I don't know what's happening, but there's a little corner of town, the old part, and if I go there, and do a certain something, I end up in 1928."
"1928? Why then, of all times?"
"You believe me, though?"
"Of course. You wouldn't lie to me. What would be the point? Besides, Nanna said..." She stopped.
"Nanna?"
"No, sorry. It was just something she used to say when I visited her. It was nothing. And I promised..."
Russ waited, but Sally wasn't prepared to say anything more. He pulled Herbert's cap off and started to stuff it in his pocket again. "Can I try it on," she asked.
She held the cap in both hands, as if weighing it. Raised it to her nose and sniffed.
"Herbert's hair oil, I suppose," Russ said in answer to her quizzical glance.
She was looking inside, almost turning the cap inside out. What was that? A label of some sort?
"'Herbert Arthur Sutcliffe Chambers', wow! There's a name to conjure with. How old was he?"
"About your age. Sixteen, seventeen or so. Hard to tell, really."
"Sixteen, and lumbered with a name like that! Why did he give you his cap?"
"He didn't. I only borrowed it, but I was in such a hurry to get back to the car park, I came away with it. Ethel insisted I wear a hat."
"Ethel?"
"Someone I met." Russ felt himself reddening. He hurried on. "I'm going again. Tomorrow. I need to take Herbert's cap back. Perhaps I'd better buy myself a hat of my own..."
"Tomorrow? Russ!" He knew what was coming. "Can I come? Just to see what it's like?"
"You? I don't know. I don't know how it works. Whether I'm allowed to take a guest."
Sally plonked Herbert's cap on her long hair and grinned at him. Oh, my God! She looked positively edible! "It will work," she said confidently. "We just have to hold hands."
Russ had forgotten that senior girls at Sally's school were allowed to wear ordinary clothes on Fridays. He had been looking out for Sally in school uniform, and was taken by surprise when she detached herself from a giggling group of young women and marched boldly across the street to take his arm. She mustn't do that, the whole of Staunchbury is watching. Her school friends nudged each other and laughed at some lewd comment.
"See ya later, Sallers!"
"Be careful!"
"Don't do anything I wouldn't!"
"They let you go to school looking like that?" Russ felt like a disapproving parent.
"The short skirt takes some of the attention off my boobs," she giggled softly, hugging his arm so tight that her breasts practically swallowed it whole.
"Some of it. Don't you find the sweater has the opposite effect?"
"I can't hide them, can I?" She stepped away and spread her arms wide. No, she certainly couldn't hide them. "Where are we going? What's in the bag?"
"Just some stuff for Ethel. Nothing important."
Sally pouted. "All right, misery-poo, don't tell me, then!" She laughed. "Is it far?" She took his arm again as they set off. Everybody seemed to be staring. At the two of them. At Sally.
Russ decided it did wonders for one's image, walking down the street with a pretty and startlingly well-endowed girl clinging to one's arm. He allowed himself a sideways glance. Sally bounced when she walked. A great deal. Of course, she wasn't trying very hard to keep herself from bouncing. She was showing off outrageously. They turned off behind the market square and along beside the churchyard. Past that park bench. At least seventy years old!
"Here we are. Sal, are you sure you want to... ?"
"What do you think!"
"If anything happens..."
"Nothing will happen, Russ!"
"I might disappear!"
"We both will, darling!" She held his left hand tight, fingers interlocking. The card was in his right hand...
And they walked up Archdeacon Street together, hips just touching, hands clasped tight.
"Is this it? Are we there?" Sally was looking round, her eyes shining. "It doesn't look old."
"It's not old. It's 1928."
"It smells fresher. You can't smell the buses any more. Can't we just walk around for a bit?"
"Later. We have to see the shop first. Ethel's expecting me."
"But not me?"
"I'll tell her who you are."
"It might be better if I stayed outside. If she didn't see me."
"No. We'd better stick together. Until we know how it all works. Without me, you might not be able to get back, or ... anything! Come on."
The bell tinkled and the wooden floor echoed to the tap of Sally's heels. The bell on the counter. Somebody coming. Sally squeezed his fingers, her hand warm and damp.
"Good afternoon, sir. May I help you?"
"Herbert!" Russ found himself lugging the cap out of his pocket. "I'm afraid I walked off with your hat the other day. I'm so sorry."
"No, sir, you can keep it. Miss Ethel bought me another. She's just popped out. She told me to tell you she wouldn't be long." Herbert's eyes kept flickering towards Sally, who was regarding him with frank appraisal. The poor boy ran a finger round inside his stiff collar. He was sweating visibly.
"This is Herbert, Sal," Russ explained belatedly. "Herbert, my girlfriend's sister, Sally."
"Pleased to meet you, I'm sure." Herbert offered a trembling paw.
"Herbert Arthur Sutcliffe Chambers," murmured Sally softly, grasping the boy's limp fingers with warmth and moisture. He gulped and blushed crimson, looking hugely relieved when Sally let go of his hand and went off on a tour of the shop, taking in all the details as if she was going to be writing an essay on it later. What I Did During My Lunch Hour.
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