Chapter 79

Sheila and I were tired, sated, warm and cosy. We therefore slept like logs for the rest of the night. I don't think either of us stirred a muscle.

The next thing I knew, there was a vague grey daylight creeping through the small gaps in the shutters, and Adrian was standing a few feet away from us, getting dressed.

I sleepily lifted myself up on my elbows, causing my entwined bed companion to stir also as her head slipped off my chest.

"What time is it?"

"Eight fifteen. I need to get some more eggs, milk and bread."

"Hang on a tick and I'll come with you."

"Thanks, mate."

Sheila stretched her arms.

"Twin?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Pick up some more bacon and sausages from Mr Waite, will you? A couple of pounds of each? Oh, and don't forget those chops I ordered."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Don't think so. What's it like out?"

"Drizzling. I just didn't quite catch the BBC weather forecast at three minutes to the hour, but I suspect from my glimpse out of the window that it's going to rain all day, it's really grey and miserable."

"Oh heck. No lunch at the zoo, then. Tell you what, a couple of big tins of Heinz tomato soup, and a dozen slices of that breaded ham? And another half pound of butter?"

"Got it. We'll be a while."

While they were talking, I'd retrieved my clothes, and was now pulling on my jeans. I'd peeped into the bedrooms; Hamish and Julie were still fast asleep, wrapped together in Sheila's bed, and the lump under Adrian's quilt was presumably my sister.

"Okay, I'll get stirring in a minute."

She crawled to the side of the gas fire and turned on the second panel for some added warmth, sliding back under the quilt with a yawn.

Adrian grabbed the shopping basket, I finished tying up my shoelaces, and we headed out.

It was indeed drizzling, that horrid cold wet February persistent drizzle that gets down your neck and up your sleeves. We both stopped to pull up our anorak hoods before venturing through the street door and down the steps.

There was hardly anyone about until we turned the corner out of Caledonia Place. Mr Waite was of course his usual bright and cheery self as he handed over several big parcels of meat, the corner shop had plenty of milk, and at the bakery I was tempted by half a dozen jam doughnuts and six egg custard tarts to go with the loaves of bread. Adrian just grinned.

As we left the shop and turned for home, he indicated the white boxes from the bakery sticking out of the top of the basket he was carrying.

"Short of energy, are you, mate?"

I grinned back.

"Maybe. I bet you are, too?"

He grimaced.

"I must be getting old!"

We both laughed.

"I think it's more that my sister is as insatiable as yours!"

He raised his eyebrows.

"It's a very close run thing!"

The rain got heavier as we turned the corner back into Caledonia Place.

"Set in for the day, I reckon?"

"Wouldn't be surprised. Pity, Twin wanted to walk on the Downs to see the daffodils, and then pop into the zoo for lunch. Even the penguins will be inside in this weather!"

"I might manage a nap this morning; it was a long night."

"Yeah, we heard you!"

I pretended to aim a punch at him, and laughed.

"You weren't that quiet yourself! You know, I really envy you your privacy here. Back in Cardiff, we've got the others next door and some girls downstairs, so we have to keep it down. It kind of restricts things, which is why we haven't invited you two over for another weekend of sexual excess."

He nodded.

"We're bloody lucky that the blokes above and below always go home for the weekend – can't say I'd like to be separated from their families all week like they are, but it works very well for us, so I ain't going to try to dissuade them!"

He unlocked the street door and we went into the hallway, taking off our anoraks and giving them a good shake to get the droplets of water onto the communal stone floor rather than the twins' hall carpet.

Sheila and Julie were clothed and making a pot of tea when we got back upstairs; Hamish was getting dressed and Jen was having a quick shower, the other two girls having also been through the bathroom. We hung up our anoraks on the pegs in the hall and took our loot into the kitchen corner.

"Damn! I forgot to put the immersion heater on before I left. Sorry!"

"It's okay, Twin, I did it before I had my shower. What's the weather doing?"

"Absolutely bloody diabolical. We reckon that the Zoo and Downs are both out, we'll just get drenched."

"Blast! Oh well, we'll just have to stay in. Did you get the ham?"

"Oh yes, and the rest of it; we can probably withstand a siege now."

It certainly looked like it – with six pint bottles of milk, three loaves of bread, the parcels from the butchers, and two more white cardboard cartons from the baker, plus some tins, the kitchen worktop was full.

Breakfast was a poached egg and baked beans on toast; we all had another couple of rounds of toast to follow. While the others did the washing up, Adrian and I had our showers. I was about to get dressed again when Jen stopped me.

"Brother, dearest, as we're not going out, I'm going back to bed for a couple of hours. Would you perhaps care to join me?"

I broke the national record for finishing towelling my hair reasonably dry while following her to Adrian's room. I noticed as we passed Sheila's room that she and Hamish were already on her bed, and I suspected that Julie would grab Adrian as he left the bathroom. The girls had clearly been plotting again, but who was I to complain?

My sister was stripping her clothes off; all I had to do was drop the towel that was around my waist. She still almost beat me in getting naked, though!

She threw herself on to Adrian's bed and grinned as she looked up at me.

"Now, as a concerned and kind brother, perhaps you might just check that I'm not at all sore after yesterday?"

I did check, thoroughly, using both tongue and fingers. There was an initial slight taste of soap, and she was a bit pink round the edges, but I correctly took the moans I heard as a sign that she wasn't in pain from my ministrations.

"Oh god, Jon, I can't take any more teasing! Fill me, please?"

Well, her wish was my command. She was so worked up that no sooner had I got Gustav lined up than she pushed her own hips forward with a jump, and before I knew it, our pubic bones had thumped together. She was quite right, she was almost there. It only took a few thrusts to get her over the edge, and I held her tight as she shuddered through her climax. We lay for a few minutes just enjoying the feeling of being joined together, exchanging the odd kiss. She grinned at me.

"I wonder if the shower is free yet?"

"Great idea, Sis!"

It was. We had to be a bit careful because the cubicle had just been used for its proper purpose and the floor was still wet, but the non-slip rubber mat stayed in place.

The twins' idea of putting in a rail at just the right height was a bloody brilliant one, and I blessed them every time I got to use it. Jen hopped up on the rail, I got into position, we joined back together, and she hung on to my neck for dear life as I bounced her on Gustav. Her nipples ran up and down my chest, and the extra stimulation was clearly doing the business because she was short of breath way before I was, and I was the one doing all the work!

When the time came and my knees buckled as I shot my life-essence into her, there was an extra intimacy of clinging on to each other that just didn't quite happen when the girl was flat on her back. Being vertical seemed to heighten the feeling of closeness above the waist, and increase the sense of 'joint enterprise' as we both strove to give satisfaction to the other.

On the way back to Adrian's bedroom, as we passed its absentee owner and my girlfriend crashed out on the quilt in front of the fire, I took a quick look in the round gold-painted Georgian mirror that Julie and I had given the twins as a flat-warming present. Yup, there was indeed a cheesy grin on my face, which pretty much matched that on Jen's!

She gestured for me to get on the bed first, told me to lie on my back, draped one arm over my chest, one leg over mine, laid her head on my shoulder, and closed her eyes. I flicked the quilt over us both and had a few moments of just enjoying our closeness before I too was asleep. It had been an energetic night and after our most recent bout of exercise, a nap was most definitely in order.

Julie woke us, a mug of tea in each hand. That's all she was wearing, well, apart from a rather self-satisfied smile.

"What time is it, darling?"

"Just gone twelve. My turn now – Jen, Hamish is in Sheila's bed waiting for you. Here's a cuppa to keep you going. Lunch when we've all finished."

She wasn't joking! I hardly had time to gulp down my cuppa before my girlfriend was checking that Gustav was paying attention. In fact, he was standing rigidly to attention before another minute had elapsed, and she gave a grunt of approval as her blonde hair was drawn back over my stomach.

"Mmmm. Nice flavour, darling. You and Jen together. I do like that! Now, show me that you haven't lost your touch."

"Oh god! All this passion will be the death of me!"

"As long as you can keep going for only another seventy years, that won't really matter. Now stop moaning, put your mug somewhere safe, and get on with it!"

I tried to put on my hangdog expression; it didn't make a ha'porth of difference. The love of my life straddled my waist, popped Himself inside Herself, and started rubbing her sensitive bits on mine. I just laid back and enjoyed it; I reckoned that I probably could take another seventy years of this kind of treatment!

It didn't remain that easy. Once Julie had done her first bit of panting and moaning, she reckoned that I should take over the driving. Oh well, fair was fair.

Gustav had used the short nap we'd all just had as a chance to recuperate, so he was more than happy to oblige her. The rest of me wasn't feeling quite as energetic yet, as it felt like I'd been doing press-ups half the night. I spooned behind my girlfriend, lifted up her top leg, and slipped him in. Okay, my hips had to do all the work, but my torso could relax a bit and just enjoy our gentle love-making. We switched positions to normal missionary after a few minutes so that we could kiss more easily, and all-in-all, it was a very enjoyable and affectionate coupling.

Lunch was indeed the promised bowl of tinned Heinz tomato soup and a couple of rounds of self-made ham sandwiches per head. Both Colman's English Mustard and Branston Pickle were on the table, complementing Mr Waite's home cooked ham beautifully. Dessert, served on the same side plate used for the ham sandwich to save washing up, was a jam doughnut. There was lots of licking of lips and fingertips to remove the jam and sugar which encrusted them; it's physiologically impossible to eat a jam doughnut neatly, and you waste far too much jam if you cut it into bite-sized chunks on your plate.

My ever-loving sister kindly blabbed to my friends about a time years earlier when Dad had brought home some jam doughnuts, and her greedy elder brother had sunk his fangs into one without checking where the hole was. Cue much of the jam returning under pressure through the aperture it had been injected in, landing on Mum's white linen tablecloth rather than the plate. Yours truly in disgrace for making the mess even worse while trying to scrape it up.

There were sympathetic comments from the others. It was agreed that I had been especially unfortunate with the tablecloth, but they all happily admitted that they had done something similar in their formative years.

I didn't mention my New Year 'accident' with the cream slice and Sheila; Jen would probably have sent me trotting off to the bakers so that we could recreate the event especially for her, and I was sure that by now he'd have sold out!

We sat and chatted about the world, the universe and everything for a while; Hamish made another pot of tea to keep us going.

The last drop of tea finally swigged down, Adrian picked up the plates from the table and put them in the sink.

"Leave 'em there, Twin. Wash the sugar off your paws, and take Jen back to bed. Hamish, you and Julie take the shower, and Jon, you're with me. What time do we need to leave to see 'Doctor Who'?"

"Better say half-four to get a seat?"

"So we've got a couple of hours."

We all had to quickly wash our hands and faces under the tap to remove the stickiness. Licking our fingers just didn't quite do it.

We left Julie backing up on to the rail in the shower with Hamish's help, and returned to the bedrooms.

Sheila wanted to be on top to start with. That was fine with me; Gustav was feeling confident if a tad sore, and I could just lie back and enjoy playing with Sheila's amazing nipples. Every so often she paused in her movements and dipped down so that I could suckle them; moaning with pleasure as I squeezed them between my lips or ran my tongue around her aureoles. I could see the pink tinge infusing the pale white skin of her neck and upper chest as she ground her clitoris on my pubic bone, and a couple of minutes later she was loudly expressing her joy to the world. Once she got her breath back, she dismounted and rolled off me.

"Your turn now, darling. Are you feeling up to it?"

I pretended to growl at her insinuation.

"Me Tarzan, you Jane!"

"Oh goodie! Go for it, stud!"

Pausing only to check that there was a pillow between her head and the wall (you'll remember that Adrian got those beds dirt cheap because the bedhead and foot were defective), I enveloped her legs in my arms, put her ankles around my neck, and plunged back into her. Lubrication was no problem after her recent orgasm, so Gustav and I were free to pound her into the mattress.

She didn't object – on the contrary, her vocal cries of encouragement just spurred us both on. Remembering the slight altercation we'd had a while back when I had been too gentle with Julie and she had felt left out, I tried to consciously switch into my 'caveman' mode, using Sheila for my pleasure, but knowing that in her currently aroused state, she would love it too.

She must have read my thoughts. She normally didn't swear, but this time she made an exception.

"Fuck me, you bastard! Fuck my cunt as hard as you can! Fill my womb with your spunk!"

Well, with that kind of encouragement, I had no problem plunging into her, my pubic bone smashing into her clitoris on every stroke, and causing shrieks of pleasure. I hammered as hard as I could, trying to make my strokes as long as possible without pulling out too far, or getting strangled by her legs around my neck. She wasn't passive herself; she was using her arms to push hard back against me. I stared hard into her eyes, willing her on as I felt my balls beginning to pull up; there was sweat on her brow, and as I looked, some drops of my sweat fell off my nose and dripped onto her chin.

"Come with me, Sheila, darling, come ON!"

That seemed to do the trick; there was an almighty scream from her and a howl from me as my bollocks started being pumped out. I just about had enough presence of mind left to twist slightly as I collapsed so that I didn't bump heads with her, but my stomach could clearly feel her belly convulsing spasmodically against mine as her orgasm overtook her.

We lay together for a few minutes before either of us moved at all. I was a little surprised that none of the others had come in to see what we were up to, although the chances were that they too were at a point where they would rather not interrupt their activities.

Sheila was first to be able to speak.

"Oh fuck that was good!"

"You know, darling, your future husband isn't going to make old bones if you keep making demands like that on the poor sod! He's going to peg out from sexual exhaustion!"

She laughed.

"Nah, I'll feed him properly and make sure he takes vitamin tablets. He'll get plenty of cardiovascular exercise, so he'll be in good nick."

"He'll bloody well need to be!"

"I suppose I could let him croak once he can't do the business any longer, and either play the merry widow for a while, or find myself a toyboy or two to play with?"

"Hmmm. Just make sure you've got him well insured!"

"Oh, I shall, darling, I shall. Then I shan't have to choose one with lots of dosh already; there are a couple of boys in the medical school with more money than sense, and I couldn't stand to be with one of them – I want a man with his feet firmly set on the earth, even if one day we hope to have our heads in the clouds!"

That was a little bit deep, but I knew what she meant. There were a few people at Cardiff with delusions of grandeur, who had family money and didn't care who knew it, and I steered well clear of them. Most people I met were like me, middle class, the first generation of their family to have the chance of a University education, and determined to make the most of the opportunity. Those were the days when there genuinely was some social mobility in British society, and a feeling that you really could get somewhere on merit alone.