Chapter 80

It was so wonderful to wake up in my sister's arms the next morning after a good night's sleep. We were snuggled up warm and comfortable, and I lay there listening to her soft breathing and just enjoying the feel of her soft-yet-firm body against mine for ages; until all too soon we were disturbed by Julie, in search of her morning cuppa.

As Adrian had followed her in to the living room, and kindly offered to put the kettle on himself, she wriggled in between the two of us to share our warmth – and to teasingly rub her naughty bits against ours for good measure. Not that she wanted to make love; the first cup of tea was more important, but it used up most enjoyably those few minutes while the water was boiling and the pot was brewing.

I jokingly accused my girlfriend of giving Jen a more passionate 'good morning' kiss than I had received, which earned me another one from both of them, and more laughter all round.

Sheila and Hamish emerged from her bedroom shortly after the kettle on the hob had whistled to announce that the water had boiled. Both looked as if they had been dragged through a hedge backwards; Sheila took one look at herself in the round mirror on the wall and bolted to the bathroom for her hairbrush. To be honest, we were all pretty dishevelled; our nights of passion and lots of movement on and around the pillow had got our long hair tangled, and we three lads were also distinctly in need of a shave.

"What time is it?"

"Just after nine."

"Is that all? Oh good! No rush then, it felt later than that."

I wisely said nothing. After Jen and I had popped our heads round her door late the previous evening to find them hard at it and sweating profusely from their exertions, it was only to be expected that they had eventually tired themselves out and fallen into the deep sleep of physical exhaustion and sexual satisfaction.

Adrian poured, and the six of us lounged around naked drinking our tea. Hamish had joined Jen on our makeshift bed on the floor, and our hosts took the two armchairs.

"So what's the plan for today?"

"Looks like the rain has stopped, so we might get our walk on the Downs after all. Hamish, did you want to pop home?"

"Nah, we were there last weekend, so I'm fine. Unless you want me to see if Mum can feed us?"

"No, it wouldn't be fair on her. You'll just have to take pot luck with me!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yep, anyway, I'm all organised to feed the Five Thousand. My beast of burden here and I had a big shop on Friday, and Mr Waite sent the meat I ordered with Twin, so the only hiccup was not getting out for lunch at the Zoo yesterday, and we got the ham for that."

My better half nudged me to remind me of something we'd discussed on the train on Friday. It was time to be tactful but firm. Not something I'd had a lot of practice at, but I was hopefully getting better at it. We were all nice well-brought-up middle-class kids, and didn't really like talking about money or bargaining; something that our dealings with our Cardiff landlady had taught us that we needed to get over!

"Err, twins, can we please make a contribution? You didn't tell us what the party tickets cost, and you can't keep feeding us all the time; it's simply not fair on you. What do we owe you?"

They protested, of course, their natural politeness and generosity pushing them to entertain us at their expense. They too didn't like discussing money. Julie chipped in with the killer argument that we'd agreed.

"If you won't let us pay our way, we'll feel guilty every time we come over, and then we'll either have to bring you expensive presents or not come at all."

Our hosts looked at each other in surrender.

"Okay. The party tickets were one fifty each, and shall we say another quid per head towards the food and the gas bill, to keep the numbers easy?"

We four guests looked at each other. The girls nodded their approval, clearly considering it a fair deal, or at least as good as we were going to get without demanding to see Sheila's account with Mr Waite the butcher!

"Thank you! We still think that you're being very generous, but at least we feel better about it!"

"But you bought the wine last night, and those buns. Call it quits!"

Hamish and I fished out our wallets from our pile of clothes and both handed a fiver to Sheila, who put them in her cash tin in one of the kitchen cupboards. The mood lightened once the nasty commercial bit was safely out of the way. Sheila bent down to get something out of the fridge.

"Okay, breakfast. Scrambled egg, sausage and toast okay? There's a carton of orange juice as well?"

As Flanders and Swann described in 'The Reluctant Cannibal', a chorus of 'Yums' ran round the room. Mr Waite's Breakfast Bangers were even better than the fictional 'Roast Leg of Insurance Salesman', and Sheila always did a mean scrambled egg, with just the right amount of butter. Hamish scored brownie points by complimenting the chef; it wasn't just that they had been living in a Hall of Residence and enduring pre-cooked eggs for the last six weeks, the praise was indeed well-deserved.

After the washing up was done, the next thing to get out of the way was Sheila's regular Sunday morning phone call home, to confirm to her mother that they were still alive and well, and hadn't been abducted by aliens. After the usual greetings she explained that the four of us were staying with them for the weekend, and laughingly (and completely fictitiously) described how she'd walked into her living room this morning to find four occupied sleeping bags looking like giant caterpillars on the floor. Again, the very possibility of any sexual activity taking place with six of us there would never have occurred to her mother in a million years! She did ask Sheila to pass on her regards and hope that we would all have a good day, and that we were being properly looked after. Luckily, she didn't want to speak to any of us; Julie and I were having quiet hysterics about quite how well we had been 'looked after'!

We took turns in the bathroom. Some hair washing was required, and we all needed a shower to wash off the night's sweat. The girls then went off to Sheila's bedroom to apply her special soothing cream to their abused girlie bits; there was quite a lot of squealing and giggling from that direction. Us three lads followed their orders to have a shave, and we all got dressed to go out.

We did indeed get a very pleasant walk on the Downs. Everything had been washed clean by the previous day's rain, and the view over the Clifton Gorge, Brunel's suspension bridge, and the Bristol Channel beyond was excellent. The daffodils were beginning to make quite a show, and it really did feel that Spring had come – or was on its way, at least. The grass was still wet so we stuck to the tarmac, getting greetings and smiles from everyone we passed. It seemed that we were not the only ones keen to get out in the fresh air. I held Sheila's hand all the way round, and Julie and Adrian did the same. After all, we had an official relationship to keep up!

Adrian put the coffee percolator on when we got back to the flat, and Sheila found a packet of Digestive biscuits in the cupboard for our elevenses. Okay, so it was actually quarter past twelve, but hey, it was a Sunday, so the precise time didn't matter.

'Pot luck' for lunch was going to be onion-smothered oven-cooked pork loin chops in a casserole, which sounded pretty damn good to me; it only took a few minutes to prepare and pop in the oven with half a dozen big baking potatoes. Then the girls disappeared into Sheila's bedroom and closed the door. There seemed to be quite a lot more giggling going on!

Adrian and I were discussing whether to bother going to buy a couple of the Sunday newspapers when Sheila's bedroom door opened and they finally emerged – all wearing their baby doll nighties!

I didn't even know that Julie had brought hers along.

It was clearly an ambush.

Sorry, that's a dreadful pun. The short nighties allowed us to see that they weren't wearing any panties to cover their neatly-trimmed bushes.

What is it about flimsy female clothing? We'd had three beautiful naked girls trotting around all weekend, yet the moment they donned something to slightly hide their charms, they suddenly became that extra bit ... desirable? enticing? alluring? challenging? The frilly hems of the nighties seemed to highlight the presence of their sexual organs, and remind us of the pleasures they offered.

Gustav almost strangled himself as he tried to move from hanging down to the left to standing straight up so that he could peek over my waistband. Hamish and Adrian were clearly suffering similar problems; they too had to reach in to their jeans and make some adjustments.

My sister sat down in an armchair; the other two posed provocatively on the arms. Jen slowly and deliberately crossed her legs, making sure that us three lads got a perfect view of everything between them. Those of you who ever saw Kenny Everett on TV will know just what I mean. It was 'all in the best possible taste'...

She put on her fake American femme fatale accent.

"Well, hello there boys! Are those pistols in your pockets, or are you just pleased to see us?"

Oh yes, we were most definitely pleased to see them!

Sheila got up off the arm of the chair and slowly walked past us, running her hand lightly across our three groins. She turned to the others and showed her teeth in a wicked grin.

"Yep, you've certainly got their interest, Jen! I'll just get some towels."

She came back a minute later carrying a pile of three of the big bath sheets that they'd inherited from their grandmother. Dropping them onto the floor, she approached her twin brother and wrapped her arms around his neck for a kiss. Julie came and did the same to me, before rubbing her chest on mine and sliding her hands under my shirt. I presumed that Jen was doing the same to Hamish, but with my lips tightly attached to Julie's my peripheral vision was rather lacking.

I just about had enough blood still flowing through my big head to know that I shouldn't listen to the frantic urging from my little head – Gustav wanted me to throw her to the floor and just get stuck straight in – and I passionately kissed her back, until she stepped slightly away and started undoing my shirt buttons.

It wasn't often that we had the fun of undressing one another; in the flat in Cardiff it was normally too chilly to mess around, and often there was a certain urgency in getting naked and under the quilt. My girlfriend slowly unbuttoned me, and started running her small soft hands over my chest and sides. I leant forward and kissed her again, before lifting her nightie and stroking her smooth skin with my fingertips. Two could play at this game!

She gasped as I did the dirty on her and flicked her nipples with my thumbs; I was gentle, knowing how sensitive they were at the start, but as she didn't move away I rubbed them a little more until they started to swell. Then she did pull back, but only to help me off with my shirt. I quickly glanced to the side; Jen was mewling softly as Hamish had one of her nipples between his lips, and the twins were locked chest to chest as their tongues duelled.

The shirt gone, my blonde bombshell turned her attention to my jeans. I helped by sliding the button through, leaving the zip to her. Luckily in those days we all wore baggy (or even flared) jeans, so once that was done they slipped down from my waist to leave Gustav defenceless apart from my grundies; with practised ease Julie quickly had those too down by my knees, so that he was totally exposed. She giggled contentedly.

"Looks like someone is ready to play?"

I've never felt particularly dignified with my trousers at half-mast, so I took the easy option and sat down on the carpet to remove my shoes and jeans. Julie helped enthusiastically, and once they were off, she pushed me backwards and sat on my chest. I reached up and pulled her head down so that our lips met again.

I was just about to suggest that she hopped on for a ride when our hostess called a halt to proceedings.

"Hold your horses, you lot, while I get the chair ready. Julie is going to be first. Hamish to start with, then Twin, then Jon."

Ah! There was a plot afoot. No great surprise; somehow whenever the Six Musketeers got together there was always a session where we tried to fuck the girls into the middle of next week, just to check that they were still multi-orgasmic. Actually, let's rephrase that to correct the emphasis – where the girls took turns to take on all three of us one after the other, just to experience again the delights of not having to rely on just one lover.

Sheila grabbed the fabric seat cushion from one armchair, wrapped it carefully in two layers of bath sheet, and placed it on top of the cushion already in the other armchair.

"Okay, Julie? Happy to kick off?"

"If I must!"

The grin belied the statement. She didn't need any encouragement!

Jen and Sheila helped the love of my life position herself with her back on the seat cushion, her head against the backrest, and her girlie bits sticking up and out just in front of the cushion. There was no doubting, judging from the glistening sheen on her labia, that this girl was ready to go.

Hamish positioned himself in front of Julie, moving his feet out sideways on the carpet so that his cock was at just the right level to be pushed in to its target.

"Jon, will you hold the back of the chair? It tends to move a bit if they get carried away."

I stood braced so that I could push back if the chair started skating. It also meant that I could look straight down into Julie's eyes; they held a smoky glimmer that told me how excited she was. Pinky and Perky's tips were already sticking straight up, another giveaway sign.

"You'll need to rest your hands on the arms of the chair, chum, you'll bump heads if you try to reach the seat."

Hamish waved his cock around her lips to pick up some extra lubrication, and then slowly pushed himself all the way in to her in one slow movement. She let out a long – and loud – gasp of pleasure.

"Take it nice and slowly, Hamish – you've got as much time as you want. Julie, darling, you'll love this!"

I looked quizzically at our hostess.

"We tried it out one week-night, but it made a hell of a noise with the chair rocking, so we decided to try again at the weekend. Once we'd wedged a towel under the back of the chair so it wouldn't go anywhere, we had a great time!"

Hamish duly lowered his arms so that his hands were gripping the arms of the chair. He shuffled his feet a little more to get the correct angle. She used her thighs and knees to guide him.

"Okay, honorary sister?"

Julie giggled despite her obvious excitement.

"Oh yes, honorary brother, that's just wonderful!"

And they were away at the races. Hamish kept up a good steady pace with nice long thrusts, his pelvis bumping Julie's at every stroke. She was soon panting, and Hamish adjusted his pace to match the rhythm of her breathing. Her gasping got even louder and shriller, with a great exhalation as his cock went in, and an even deeper breath as she felt him leave.

My girl was certainly feeling – and loving – every sensation, and I was incredibly proud of her. The shy girl downstairs of less than two years ago had blossomed into a sexual being, and I loved seeing her enjoying the pleasures that her body could give her. Okay, so it was even better when I was the one making her feel so good, but my turn would come soon enough.

Jealousy? Nah, not a bit. It was share and share alike. The girls obviously wanted to go for multiple orgasms, and I couldn't do that for Julie on my own, and I was just glad that she was so comfortable with my / our future brother-in-law. He was about to make her come, and then he'd get his own reward, and after that Adrian would do his best to keep my darling going before I got to finish her off.