Chapter 91

My much-anticipated letter offering me a job at ICI arrived via Mum’s postal delivery service on Wednesday evening. So too did a great big hug from Mum, and the gift of two of Mrs Johnson’s best 2lb pork pies together with a small jar of Colman’s ready made mustard; with a pot of tea they made a great celebration supper when we finally finished work that night!

Julie and I also celebrated privately once we got to bed; she insisted on doing all the work “to reward you”, and although I pretended to protest, I did enjoy just lying back and letting her flow all over me! We even managed a sneaky bit of early morning passion (sneaky on her part, I wasn’t actually awake when she started), and were both more than ready for a shower afterwards. It felt a little strange being able to shower twice a day after the bathroom restrictions in the Cardiff flat, but the weather was warm and free access to the staff changing room was most welcome.

I thought that I could get used to the convenience of showering rather than having to either run a bath or wash with a flannel from a handbasin as I had to the last three years at Cardiff, and I hoped that the digs I would find in Middlesbrough would have a modern bathroom with the choice of a shower.

Word of confirmation of my job offer got round quickly once we started work that morning, and everybody from Mr Johnston downwards was kind enough to congratulate me – they all thought that getting a job with ICI was a real achievement. Mavis even offered to make me a celebratory cake!

That night, Dad picked me and Julie up from the factory at six o’clock – he wanted me to show my grandparents the letter in person – and we didn’t mind losing a few hours work to make them happy. We stopped off at home so that I could write my formal acceptance, and have a bite to eat, and then all four of us went round to see Grandma Shaw. She was a little bit weepy that my grandfather had not quite lived long enough to see me getting such a good job, but she was delighted for us.

“So you’re going to have enough money coming in to marry this dear girl?”

“Yes and no, Grandma – we’d have loved to do it now as we’ve finished our degrees, though the money would be tight, but if she’s married when she comes to apply for jobs, then a lot of schools won’t employ her as a teacher. We think that we’ll have to wait a couple of years until she’s settled at a place before we can have our wedding.”

Grandma shook her head. I thought at first she was disappointed in me being content to ‘live in sin’, but I soon realised that she understood completely.

“I know! It’s a very silly rule. My favourite teacher at school was Miss Marjoribanks, lovely lady she was, but she got engaged and had to resign her position straight away, not even stay to the end of the year. Waste of a wonderful teacher; I never did like the one who took her place!”

She made Dad pour out five glasses of sherry so that they could all drink my health; then we hugged her and said goodbye as we headed off to Dad’s parents.

The Baker grandparents were equally pleased that I was embarking on my career with such a well-known firm. They insisted that we have another glass of sherry with them, and we didn’t get back to the caravan until nearly nine, by which time it was far too late to bother going back on the line. Dad had even suggested nipping over to the Darby and Joan for a swift pint or three of County, though Mum quickly and firmly reminded him that it was a work day for everyone the next day.

So they went home, and Julie and I took a shower, made a pot of tea for the others as they came in from work, and then cuddled up together for the night.

At the morning tea break, I got a big surprise! Mavis had indeed made me a cake – or rather enough cake to give everyone a slice with their cuppa. It was a chocolate sponge, made in the big heavy aluminium baking trays that normally held pies or crumbles, and although it wasn’t a patch on Mum’s baking (no icing or buttercream filling), it was most acceptable. Everyone tucked in, which was just as well, because there was rhubarb crumble needing to be cooked in the same tins for our lunch!

The local schools broke up for the summer holidays that Friday 11^th July; it was therefore the last day at work for the primary school mothers. At lunch they were busy comparing notes over where they were all going for their summer holidays – most were headed for one or other of the East Coast resorts, but one daring family was headed for Spain on a package tour for the first time. Julie did warn her to keep her husband off the cheap wine, explaining that our former flatmate’s boyfriend had got drunk as a skunk at the welcome party and then drunk the local water and given himself the trots. Mind you, according to her ‘friends’, it was the woman who was more likely to over-enjoy the wine than her husband, who was a confirmed beer drinker.

The place would be a lot quieter without them all chattering and laughing together; after we waved them off in the minibus for the last time, the foreman even admitted that he’d miss them and their banter – they’d been a very cheerful bunch, even if they were loud and ribald, and liked nothing better than to try to get the men to blush in embarrassment. They’d certainly caught me a couple of times with comments about some of the oddly-shaped baby carrots which came through the line.

On the Saturday Mr Johnston brought round several small parties of kids who were interested in working for some of their summer holidays and wanted to know what was involved. He’d told us that he was trying to avoid the mutual inconvenience of previous years when youngsters had quit after a couple of days hard graft, often without even having the decency to let him know that they were not going to appear at work.

We were more than happy to explain what we did; we did warn them that is was often quite boring and repetitive work, but said that it paid well and that the canteen lunch was several levels better than school dinners. They were impressed that it was the third year working here for Jen and I, so most of them signed up to start on the Monday. A couple didn’t seem to like the idea of standing in the same place for hours on end without being able to mess about in the company of their mates, so it was probably better all round that they didn’t start working here in the first place.

With all the time spent talking to the kids, it was pretty late (about ten o’clock) by the time we got the ‘still to do’ pile down to just a couple of crates of baby carrots to finish off, and they didn’t take too long with eight of us going at them.

The four girls went off to shower; we lads stacked the empties on the loading dock, tidied up, hosed the line down ready for the morning, and headed for the showers ourselves. It had been a long day, and we were pretty tired, but it’s amazing how refreshing a decent shower can be. Hamish and I were last out of the washroom and turned out the lights; we locked the caravan door behind us and headed for our beds. I suddenly had an idea, and when we got to Julie’s door, I put my finger to my lips and motioned to him that he should go in. He grinned, gave me a thumbs up, and opened the door.

Sheila was a little surprised that it was me rather than Hamish coming into her bedroom, again I held my finger up to warn her to be quiet. She nodded in understanding and her face broke out into a warm smile of welcome. She’d already put the quilt to one side as it was pretty warm in the small room, so I was able to quickly strip off my dressing gown and get onto the end of the bed and between her legs. She got the idea very quickly, her knees went sideways as soon as I got my hands under her buttocks to raise her up, and I was able to put my lips and tongue to good use. She smelt and tasted slightly of soap after her shower, but it wasn’t very long before I was enjoying something much more acceptable to my tastebuds. Sheila was clearly not at all unhappy with what I was doing; she’d quickly grabbed her pillow and was holding it over her face when the need to gasp and moan out loud became too much.

When there was a little gush of juices, I kept some in my mouth and moved up her body to share them with her. That made her moan again!

On the way back down I stopped at her wonderful nipples and apologised to both of them for having ignored them before now. They were pretty erect when I started, and a little bit of lip, tongue and teeth work on my part had Sheila holding the pillow over her mouth again to keep her cries of delight quiet. I moved back downwards, tickling her belly button with my tongue, before giving her clitoris a few gently swipes with my tongue, which immediately had her shuddering again. I spared a thought to once again thank Vee for introducing me to cunnilingus and teaching me how to do it properly; it was a sure-fire winner with all the girls, and I actually really enjoyed doing it – I just wished that my tongue didn’t get tired as quickly as it did, because I would have happily lapped away until the girls had told me to stop.

Sheila finally tapped me on the head to get my attention, and whispered that she wanted to get on top of me. We switched over, Gustav bobbing and nodding his complete approval of finally being called upon.

It had been a fortnight since Sheila and I had last shared carnal pleasures; from the way she put her leg over and notched Gustav into place, it might only have been a couple of minutes. She most certainly hadn’t forgotten how to do it; Gustav slipped all the way in on the first attempt, and she gave a huge sigh of pleasure as she was filled.

I pulled her down a bit so that I could keep working on her nipples and boobs; she was flexible enough that it didn’t really affect her hip action, although a couple of times she did lose her rhythm when the sensations got a little too exciting. She bounced herself to a couple more decent climaxes before Gustav couldn’t take any more and made a mess inside her. She sat there for a minute until he’d finished and started shrinking, and then she carefully climbed off, reached for some toilet tissue, carefully placed it where it would best reduce seepage, and lay back down beside me. We exchanged a couple of kisses to show mutual love, respect and admiration, and closed our eyes to enjoy the post-coital feelings.

We fell asleep! That had not been my intention, but I suddenly woke up in the dim light and realised that I’d had a brief kip.

I shook my head to clear it. Dozing off here was NOT a good idea, however cosy and comfortable I was. The movement woke my bedmate, who moaned in disappointment as her snuggly position was altered.

“I’m sorry, darling, I’m going to have to leave you and send Hamish back in, or I’ll fall fast asleep.”

She had enough of her wits about her to understand; she did insist on a goodnight kiss and a full body hug that got both of us panting slightly, but after a few minutes of that, I dragged myself off, picked up my dressing gown, and crept across the corridor to my own room. Hamish and Julie were both fast asleep, and it took a few moments to gently shake Hamish so that he came to sufficiently to realise where he was. He kissed Julie, who was half comatose, patted me on the shoulder, and quietly snuck back to where he should be. I crawled in beside my girlfriend, kissed her goodnight, and was pretty much out like a light.

It was Jen who brought round the mugs of tea that morning. She didn’t seem to have noticed anything different, so I guessed that we had kept the noise down sufficiently. We drank our tea, headed for the changing rooms for our showers, and then gathered in the caravan kitchen / lounge for breakfast.

Sunday was no different to the rest of the week; if the weather was okay for harvesting (and it would take torrential rain and waterlogged fields to stop most farmers getting their crops to the factory), then we would have work to do. Sure enough, the first lorry, an elderly Army Surplus Bedford RL, still in its olive green drab paint, chugged in shortly after eight. How did I know what it was? Dad had once pointed one out to me, saying that they had just been coming into service with the Army as he was finishing his National Service. I looked to check, and sure enough all the wheel nuts were still painted with the gloss red paint that the Army used to highlight the things that needed checking during first parade servicing every morning. I’d have laid money that the top of the oil dipstick was still the same colour!

We all lent a hand in unloading the crates, the foreman counted them and gave the driver his receipt, and then it was on to topping and tailing.

After lunch, Jen and I carried the tray of clean crockery and cutlery back to the caravan. We dropped it down on the table and I was about to head back out of the door when she gestured to me to join her in the corridor where we couldn’t be seen through the door or lounge windows. She put her arms round my neck and ground her coverall-covered pelvis into mine.

“A little bird told me that you’ve been dining out? Do you think that you might like to sample my menu tonight?”

She grinned at me.

“Does that mean I’m forgiven for hurting you that first night?”

She leaned forward and kissed me.

“Nothing to forgive! We both got a little bit carried away after being apart for so long!”

“Good! I can’t wait until bedtime!”

“We could have a quick taster now?”

I thought about it. It was very tempting, but a) we had to be back at work, and b) we’d have to take off her coveralls, which would be awkward if anyone came looking for us – and it was just as likely to be Malcolm as Hamish or Adrian. It being the 13^th of the month, we couldn’t depend on luck running our way. So we regretfully agreed to wait, but the hug we exchanged did confirm to Jen that Gustav would have been more than happy to be summoned to duty.

During the afternoon I took advantage of reaching the pile of crates at the same time as first Hamish and then Adrian to tell them about the sleeping arrangements for the night; Jen must have done the same with Julie and Sheila. We cracked on as fast as we could with the carrots; the incentive for an early finish was strong! It did take us until half past eight, but that seemed pretty good going. Us four lads showered together so there were no comments; it was going to be a double incest night so it was particularly important that Malcolm remained in blissful ignorance. Luckily he was fairly tired, so he wasn’t hanging around either – he wanted a cup of tea and a slice of toast, and then his pillow.

As expected, I dined well that night. We left our doors slightly open when we ‘officially’ went to bed, and as soon as I heard the latch click shut next door on Sian and Malcolm’s room, I was across the corridor, Adrian was in with Sheila, and Hamish on his way to join Julie. I had Jen Juice for starters, and it was so tasty I shared a few drops of it with the producer before going back down for a second helping. Then she sat on my lap and did some Kegel exercises (just to show Gustav that he hadn’t been abandoned and forgotten in a warm wet dark place), while I let my hands roam over her back from shoulders to buttocks, and our tongues duelled in our mouths. Her skin was soft and her muscles firm under my fingers, her boobs soft and her nipples hard and pointy against my chest, and I marvelled yet again that my kid sister had matured into this desirable woman.