12a Archdeacon Street
Chapter 10: Three Short Weeks

Copyright© 2012 by Axolotl

Humor Sex Story: Chapter 10: Three Short Weeks - 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  

The car was still there, reassuringly. At least, the police hadn't taken it away this time.

But where was Sally?

The car was locked, the keys missing from the ignition. She had got bored and gone for a walk. Not Sally, not round here, not looking the way Sally looked. The engine was still warm, and peering through the driver's window, he could see the clock. He had been gone half an hour. That figured, it seemed about right. Long enough for Sally to get bored with the inactivity. Where would she go? The market would be the best bet, any other direction would be to take her into less and less desirable areas.

At least, if she had been seized and dragged away, she wouldn't have taken the keys out and locked up after her. Russ looked around. Head for the market square and hope to meet her on her way back. Give her a good telling-off. She'd probably be contrite, although she might come over like a teenager and sulk for a while. Not that Sally's sulks ever lasted long.

The sun came out as he set off. The little minx, taking the car keys with her. It was cold out here. The sun had no warmth to it, it just added a bit of sparkle to things. And cast a different light on them.

Something was written on the roof of the car. A moistened finger had left the faintest traces in the dust. The pale sunshine brought it into stark relief.

Gone exploring!

Back later.

S. xxx

Three kisses! It would take more than three bloody kisses, girl. Exploring, for Chrissakes! On a Saturday night in what was practically the red light district of Staunchbury. Where?

Or when?

The sudden thought chilled him. Was it possible? She had asked him for the other card. Left him with just the original, the card that worked. And it had worked, on its own. But Sally had another card, and it certainly did something! But what?

Surely not! Not even Sally would do that, on her own. It occurred to him then. She wouldn't try it with him. She would only try it on her own.

With sinking heart, he set off up the alley. An hour later, he returned. The engine was now cold, the car doors still locked. The walk down to the station and the nearest working public phone was numbingly familiar. And this time, when he called her number, the voice that answered would not be Sally's.

It wasn't Sally's voice. It wasn't really anybody's. Russ tried to leave a message after the beep, but the words weren't there. There was still no reply half an hour later after he had sat on an unyielding plastic bench in the station, watching commuting passengers go in and out, watching and seeing nothing. Thoughts refused to marshal themselves in his whirling brain.

He set off up the hill again. She wouldn't be there. His car would be inaccessible, useless and empty. And somewhere, Sally - wonderful, infuriating girl - was wandering around with a business card in her hand, trying to get back to where she belonged. Who could he turn to?

No other logical choice presented itself. Only Ethel could help now. If nothing else, she represented warmth and comfort. Evening was closing in. The choice was to walk home, ten miles; catch a bus, God knows when; or go back seventy years and try to explain everything to Ethel.

He walked past the car - the dewy rime on the roof still bore evidence of Sally's last message: 'S. xxx, ' it said - and strode off up the alley.

It must have been closing time, but the lights were on inside the shop. He pushed at the door, but it was locked. A blind had been pulled down over the glass. She must be still here. She must.

He beat on the glass with his fist. And again. He was about to admit cruel defeat, when he heard steps on the other side of the door. "We're closed. I'm sorry!"

"Ethel? It's me."

"Russ?" The blind was pulled aside and a face stared out into the blackness. He would be no more than a silhouette against the darkening sky. But there was a scrabbling at the bolts and a rattling of keys, and the door was flung open. "Russ!"

"Thank God you're still here." For a while, they said nothing. Ethel bolted the door again, then hugged him tight and made little comforting noises, for she could see he was in a state, and it was probably something to do with 1999, a world over which she had no control.

"Now, what is it, darling? You weren't coming back until tomorrow, you know. Too much excitement in one day isn't good for a girl."

"It was today I was here?"

"Of course, silly!"

"Well, that's something, at least. I went back to the car. Remember, I left Sally there on her own?"

"Yes. It was only an hour and a half ago."

"She was gone. She wrote me a note on the roof."

"On the roof?" Ethel tried to work it out. A car roof was made of cloth...

"Said she'd gone exploring, whatever that means. I think she's gone wandering off into another time."

"Have you told anyone else?"

"I tried. She'd locked the car and taken the keys with her. I tried phoning home, but only got the machine."

"Machine? I thought you said it wasn't a machine."

"What? I phoned home and the machine answered."

Ethel looked unhappy. "Oh?"

"The answering machine. I didn't leave a message; I was too upset to say anything."

"Poor dear." Machines answering the phone were beyond her ken, but being too upset to speak was familiar enough.

"She hasn't been here, then? Sally?"

"No. Only with you, those few times."

"Where would she go? She had the other card with her. We had an idea that using the other card was what dumped me back in 1999 three weeks late. If Sally used that card to get back here. She wouldn't necessarily turn up straight away. She might not arrive until three weeks later."

"Or three weeks earlier!"

"No, if she was here three weeks earlier, she'd already have been. You'd have seen her here on her own, three weeks ago."

"So she won't be here for another three weeks?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Well, in that case, where will she be? She has to be somewhere."

Russ ground his fists into his eyes. "I can't think straight. She left an hour and a half ago. Let's say she arrives in three weeks' time..."

"No, darling. That won't work. It would mean she'd have been flying around somewhere for three weeks. Or nowhere. If she wasn't anywhere during that time, how would she eat?"

"So, in that case, she left and she immediately arrived somewhere..."

"Say she's here in three weeks time. If we could jump forward three weeks, we'd find her there?"

"Sounds ridiculous enough to be true. But if she went back through the gateway again, she'd be back at the car tonight, waiting for me?"

"Or maybe in three weeks' time? Or six weeks!"


"Three coming this way, and three more going back!"

"Ethel, stop it! We've got to find her. Her Mum will go mad."

"When did you last have anything to eat, darling?"

"Eat? This morning, I think. I had a bacon sandwich."

"Right, let's go home. We can't think on an empty stomach. And from what you say, your house is full of machines tonight. Spend the night at my place."

"With you? But what about Sally? What if she turns up here?"

"I don't think she will. She knows what time we shut. If she can't find us at the shop, she'll go back to your car. She's got the key, you said."

"But she can't drive."

"Sally will think of something. Come on home."

"It's no good worrying any more. Come to bed. Do you want the double bed, or the single in the other room?"

"Where are you sleeping?"

"That's up to you. You sleep where you like, I'll take the other one."


Ethel looked at Russ's crestfallen face and laughed. "Surely you're not thinking what I think you're thinking?"

"I don't know."

"I do. You must get some sleep. If I slept with you, I'm afraid neither of us would sleep at all, would we?"

"I suppose not, no."

"Then you have my double bed. I'll sleep in the other room. If I get lonely, I might come and visit you. But you have to go to sleep first. On your own. You can wear a nightgown."

"Me? A nightie? Oh, no! No way!"

"All right. Freeze to death, see if I care. You should have brought your pyjamas."

"I don't wear any," he mumbled.

"Don't be silly. Of course you do. I'll find you a nice fluffy nightgown."

And she did. He felt ridiculous in it, like Red Riding Hood's Grandma.

"Nobody will see you, what are you worrying about?"

"I'll know what I look like. Even in the dark. I won't be able to..."

The front door. A knock. And again.

"Who can it be? It's half past ten."

"Don't open it, Ethel. Just shout through the letter box."

"Hello? Who is it?"

"Eth? Is that you? It's Sally!"

Seconds later, blinking at the light, Sally was in the narrow hall, hugging Ethel, the two of them pouring kisses on each other.

"Come into the living room. I've got a surprise for you." And she dragged Sally by the hand into the living room where Russ was behind the settee, with just his head peering over the top.

"Russie!" Sally flung herself towards him.

"No, go away!"

But she had arrived, embarrassing Ethel with the abandonment of her greeting, kissing, kissing, holding his head, kissing his face all over. "Come out from there and let me get at you properly!"

"I can't!"

"Why not?" Sally kneeled upright on the settee and looked over the back. Russ cringed and curled up like a great big foetus. "What are you wearing?"

"My spare nightgown," Ethel said. "He didn't seem to like the idea at all."

Sally, realising that Russ wasn't coming out, decided to go in and fetch him. A few well-placed pokes and prods brought him forth and he stood half-bowed, with his hairy legs protruding and his toes turned inwards.

"You look good enough to eat, precious."

"Are you hungry, Sally?" Ethel asked solicitously. "When did you eat last?"

"This morning. A bacon sarnie."

"Come on, then. You'd better have the last of this soup. Then you can tell Russ what you've been getting up to."

Sally wiped her bowl with a crust of bread. "And I tried just about every Number 23 in town before I arrived here. I ruled some of them out, but I did knock on about half a dozen front doors."

"Dressed like that?"

Sally nodded. "I got some dirty looks. But once I saw it wasn't you, I ran off."

"Have you still got my car keys?"

"Your spare set, yes. You said I could have them."

"I did what?"

"You bought a spare set of keys and gave them to me."


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