A New Beginning

Chapter 1)

Call me Dave; most people do. I'm an ordinary enough guy, 31, the only son and the middle one of 3 kids. My life has been pretty ordinary, too; I was married in my mid-20s and divorced after five years when my ex decided she could do better for herself with someone else, took my two kids with her and made life very difficult for me to contact them. The few stilted conversations I've had with them since then have made it apparent that several untruths were ongoing in the background. The Child Support Agency has made my life hell, too. They keep getting “word” that my declared income was much more than I was getting, which is untrue. I'm just good with my money and don't generally spend it on stuff I don't need. I'm based in the Medway area of Kent, as I own a studio flat there, though I'm rarely at home. My job takes me all over the country, and the perks are good: free meals, free board and a good wage. The downside is long hours and no contact with the kids. Still, I have good relations with my family and some good friends, primarily engineers like myself, but they kept me going when things were rough.

That's still enough boring stuff. It sounds like I'm crying in my beer, and I'm not. Life is good, and it just got a lot better recently.

I was at home between jobs when I got a phone call from my older sis...

“Hi, Dave,” was her opening salvo.

“Hi Paula,” my return. Hey, I've never claimed to be original, just consistent.

“Dave, could you do me a favour? I know you aren't working, and you could do with a holiday.” At this point, I was wondering just who in the family had blabbed. I certainly hadn't told anyone I was home. It's probably my Mum, though. She's psychic or just got loads of informants.

“OK Paula, what are you angling for... ?” It couldn't be money; Paula's 35 and a fully qualified online legal secretary, married to Kevin, a builder and has two kids, Kerry and Martin, both in their teens.

“Well, Dave, Kevin's had an accident, broke his leg in 3 places and was supposed to be taking us to France camping.”

That explained the call. Paula, for all she can drive, doesn't like driving abroad or any great distances.

“You want me to drive you to France?”

A slight hesitation, then, “Yes, and spend a fortnight with your niece and nephew camping in Brittany.”

Hell, why not? I hadn't had an actual holiday in five years.

“Sure, Paula. Who's looking after Kevin, though?” I asked. Kevin makes money hand over fist, but he's the sort of guy who tries to get £6 change out of a £5 deal. He's good to my sis, though, if tight on spending. Paula laughs it off. She's not precisely penniless herself, and they've always loved camping, whereas I'm the full-board, all-inclusive hotel type.

“Maggs, his mother, will be staying over. You met her at my wedding.”

Well, I might have, damned if I could remember her though.

“Ok, when do you need me?” I would have to contact the office and let them know I was out of the country and not to call. I don't like saying no, so the easiest way is to tell them and then switch my work’s mobile off.

“Can you come down tomorrow? We have to catch a ferry early the following day, and it'll be easier than you getting up at the crack of dawn to travel down.”

Ever practical, that's my sis; that way, she gets to show off her ‘mansion’, as I call it, too, though it's not a mansion really, it's a converted oast house, but pretty massive. Kevin has done some damned fine work with it, having picked it up for a song nineteen or so years ago when it was just a shell. They've had offers in the millions to sell, but I doubt they will; it suits them down to the ground.

The following day, I travelled down to Tunbridge Wells by train, and Paula picked me up at the station and drove me to her home. I got the usual twenty questions, all aimed at either my health (good) or my finding someone new (non-existent). I'm way too busy to inflict my lifestyle on some unfortunate woman. Besides, the internet's full of ladies looking for no-strings one-nighters. Just go look if you don't believe me.

As I got out of the car and went for my bags, I was mobbed by two screaming teens, “Uncle Dave, Uncle Dave,” from Kerry and Martin, who were good kids too. Kerry, at 13, is growing up to be an absolute stunner; like her mum, Martin had his father's build and Paula's softer, warmer features. He'd be fighting the girls off with a stick if he could overcome his shyness, but at 14, he was still too unsure of himself and more interested in Warhammer. I was dragged into the house, both kids chattering away nineteen to the dozen to see their Dad.

Kevin lay in bed in obvious discomfort. He'd fallen through some rotten boards in a house his company was renovating, and it looked like he'd be laid up for a while. Judging by how he was on his laptop and had his mobile in hand, it wasn't slowing him down too much.

“I'm Grateful for this, Dave. Paula and the kids have been looking forward to this since last year. I'm glad you were free.”

“No problem, I needed a break myself.”

At that point, the door opened, and Kevin's Mum bustled in, and I did remember her, tall at five foot six, ash blonde with a 38, 26, 38 hourglass figure with a lovely set of DD tits to go with it. No spring chicken, of course; she's in her mid-fifties, but still well worth a look.

“You must be Dave,” She said, “I remember you from the wedding.”

“Nothing bad, I hope?” I said with a smile.

“Just the dancing,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

I blushed slightly as I'm to dancing as the Titanic was to staying afloat, it's just never going to happen as it should. Still, it amuses the kids and seems to have made a memorable impression on Maggs, who, I thought for a second, was checking me over, but it had to be my imagination; she's married to a guy called Tom, a bit of a couch potato, but a good laugh too.

Maggs then held up a urine pot, and I made my excuses and left; there are some things a guy shouldn't watch unless he has to.

It was later, after a superb dinner and a DVD movie, when the kids had gone up to their rooms, and Paula had followed, struggling to keep awake but warning me we had to be up at 6 a.m., that Maggs asked me if I'd care to join her for a drink.

“OK, but only the one. We’ve got a long trip tomorrow, and I don't need a hangover.”

“I rarely drink myself,” she replied. “Tom says it lowers my inhibitions.” She had a cheeky grin with that, and I started to get the feeling that she was coming on to me.

“He's a lucky guy,” I murmured.

“Only if he can get me to drink,” she laughed.

I was now getting a definite feeling, and it was no longer in my mind; a specific part of my anatomy had decided to perk up, too.

“Always had good luck myself,” I said.

“Never hurts to be lucky,” she replied, knocking back her drink in one. “I'd better check on Kevin; I don't want him ringing me on his bloody mobile because he wants the loo,” she stated.

“OK,” damn, she was teasing.

Ten minutes later, she padded back into the living room.

“They're all asleep, Kevin too, well he will be when the painkillers kick in,” she'd changed too, some sort of kaftan, very silky and seemed to caress her body quite erotically.

“Looking like that, I'll have to get a few more drinks into you,” I joked.

“I'd rather something else was getting into me or someone else,” she said with a sultry look.

“What about Tom,” I said, quite shocked; for all Maggs was a damn fine-looking woman; she didn't seem the type to stray, which shows you what I know about women in general.

“What he doesn't know won't hurt him,” she replied, “Besides, he seems to have forgotten what it's for, unlike your friend down there, I see.”

I was, of course, as stiff as a board. I'm only human, after all, and it had been a while. With that, she leaned over and kissed me softly at first, then with more passion, our tongues intertwined madly as we closed with each other.

“Only one thing,” she gasped as we parted for a second. “No one else can know or even guess. I like my life the way it is, save only for the lack of sex; don't ruin it for me!”

“No problem,” I replied, then proceeded to kiss her again, my lips moving down her neck, making her gasp in delight. My hands also wandered over the surface of the kaftan. She appeared to be naked underneath it, and it was an incredibly sensuous feeling as I felt her respond to my caresses. Her nipples rose like little bullets to my touch as she was clearly getting very turned on by my touch.

Her hands were busy too, running over my chest and slipping up my T-shirt to touch my bare skin.

“Oh God,” she murmured, “It's been so long since I felt anything other than flabby muscles.”

I'm no Adonis, but the job I do keeps me in shape. Still, she was getting me more and more turned on, and I needed to do something about that.

I started to raise the kaftan, but she stopped me.

“Not here. Let's go to your room. It's at the back of the house, and no one will hear us.”

We both moved upstairs, Maggs leading the way, my eyes feasting on her form in the semi-dark. Definitely no underwear to mar the contours of the kaftan and one hell of a sexy wiggle too.

When my bedroom door was shut, we were again in each other's arms. This time, our hands were moving in unison to remove each other's clothing. Maggs might have been in her fifties, but there was nothing wrong with her body, soft and warm with a neatly trimmed pussy and heavy if still firm breasts, smallish nipples but a large areola surrounding each. My mouth greedily moved down to suckle each in turn as Maggs gasped in pleasure; her hand had now dropped my pants and underwear, allowing my cock to spring free.

“Ohhhh, that's so nice,” she almost purred. It's just what I need; it's been so long.”

She then pushed me back on the bed and proceeded to take my cock into her mouth, twisting around to present her pussy to my waiting lips and tongue. It was like tasting the nectar of the gods, and her clit was well pronounced and very sensitive as she gave out a small muffled scream each time my tongue ran across it, and her hips bucked like mad. Her tongue was rapidly taking me to the edge, too, and I gasped out, “I'm going to cum.”

“Not yet,” she replied, “I want that somewhere else this time.” She promptly turned and, straddling me, took hold of my cock in her right hand and guided me into her waiting pussy.

It was like sliding into hot buttered silk; she was no youngster, but she was a very snug fit and was so hot inside. Moving slowly, at first, she raised her body up on my cock, then slid back down again. The feeling was exquisite. She had incredible muscle control, too, and started to pick up the pace gasping at each thrust into her well-lubricated pussy.

“Ooooh,” she groaned. “Oooooh, ooooh, ooooooooooh!” As her first orgasm overtook her. “Oh my God, you naughty, naughty man,” she purred as her rhythm increased again, “I can see that you might become habit-forming for me.” This with a wicked twinkle of a smile.

Well, I had no objections, and I can be discreet, too. At the time, my thoughts were more about taking my mind off the inner explosion building up in my balls, to no avail. With an intense groan from my lips, my cock exploded within Maggs' pussy, and my cum splattered her hidden depths.

She leaned down to kiss me softly, “God, that was so good; it's been far too long since I've had a nice stiff cock do that for me.”

“More than happy to oblige, Maggs, and yes, I'd like to make it a regular thing if you want.”

“Mmmmm, you say the nicest things,” she murmured, “But no strings, I know you'll have others, but if or when you can spare the time for an old lady.”

“Maggs, it isn't the age; it's how well the engine goes,” I winked. “That and a well-maintained chassis, too.”

She leaned down and kissed me again as my now softening cock slid out of her, and I could see a tear in her eye.

“It's just so nice to be wanted again,” she smiled and then slipped down to take me in her mouth again, her tongue swirling around to get me stiff in what seemed like a few heavenly minutes.

My hands were kneading her magnificent breasts, and I could tell she was becoming even more aroused. She was incredibly sensitive in all her erogenous zones and was going to make the most of her dalliance with me.

At last, unable to take any more pleasure from her tongue, I laid her down on the bed and mounted her, my cock sliding into her warm slick pussy and back into heaven. This time, I was in control. I kept my strokes long and slow; each thrust eliciting a vocal response from Maggs as the sheer pleasure of our coupling overcame her, along with the illicit pleasure of doing or being with someone she shouldn't.

“You're very good at this,” she said with a wicked throaty chuckle.

“Takes two,” I replied

My pace gradually picked up, as did the volume of Maggs cries of pleasure until, at last, she stiffened and cried out in ecstasy again, just as my orgasm peaked, and again I filled her pussy with my cum.

Basking in the afterglow, she murmured, “It's a good job I can't get pregnant with the amount of cum you've put into me.”

I smiled, “I couldn't get you pregnant even so; my ex made sure I had a vasectomy after our second.”

“Must make you popular with the ladies. Bareback riding is the nicest of sports.”

“Chance would be a fine thing,” I said. “But there was too much work and too little time to indulge between jobs.”

“We'll have to see about that,” she grinned. “We can't have you suffering from a lack of attention now, can we?”

“Just let me know when you can pop over,” I said, “Just be careful; this isn't something the families will be happy about.”

“I know,” she said, “But I have a taste for hard cock now and don't want to lose it, but you'd better get some sleep now; long trip tomorrow.”

Then, smiling, she said, “But don't wear yourself out. I might have needs to be met again soon.” With a hug and a wink, she slid the kaftan back on and left me to drift off into a satisfied, deep sleep, thinking that the holiday could only be a let-down now; how wrong I was...

 

 

Chapter 2)

The trip to France and down into Brittany was pretty uneventful, other than the occasional squabble between the kids and Paula's increasing threat levels to get them to calm down. I don't mind travel, and I do enjoy the ferries across from Dover to Calais. It enabled me to people-watch and occasionally play the ‘would I wouldn't I’ game with the various women dotted about the ship.

Of course, Paula knew exactly what I was doing. “Still got a roving eye, Bro?” she said with a grin.

“I can't help it,” I smiled back at her. “Women just fascinate me; besides, looking isn't doing it.”

“Good job, too,” she said. “A good few with partners here are also eying you up.”

“Chance would be a fine thing,” I laughed, “Besides, it's mostly because they think I'm already taken ... by you. The grass is greener, etc.”

Paula stifled a giggle and also blushed. For all we're brother and sister, we don't look alike; I'm a gnat’s whisker under 6 foot, with dark brown hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders and what's known as work muscles. I don't have time for a gym, but my job keeps me more than fit, as it's pretty physical at times. Paula, though (and our other sister Meg), is five-four and almost elfin in appearance, a honey blonde, petite with a small but nicely proportioned bust and the cutest arse you could imagine. Blue-green eyes, dimples when she smiles and a lovely personality. At 33, she's in pretty good shape for her age. Though no one will ever mistake her for a teenager or even in her 20s, she carries her years with ease.

Paula has always stuck to the straight and narrow, unlike Meg, the wild one in our family. I can't swear to it, but I suspect she was a virgin on her wedding night and has never strayed, either. Chance would be a fine thing for her anyway, she works from home, and she's not daft enough to shit in her own nest.

After six hours of travel through France, we arrived at the campsite in La Trinité sur Mer and found the reps to take us to the tent. I have to admit that this was camping in style. It even had a fridge inside, as well as real beds. Unfortunately, there were only three bedrooms, and the kids wanted their privacy, but as Paula and I had brought sleeping bags, we figured we could work around it.

My first job was shopping, stocking up on good food and, more importantly, some very cheap and decent beer. Say what you like about the French (and as a true-blooded Englishman, believe me, I have); they do food and drink incredibly well, though eating out is a bit expensive.

Still, once that was sorted, it was time to explore the small site with some lovely flowering plants and sheltered bays for the individual tents and caravans. There was also a small bar and takeaway on site, along with a decent pool and various other activities for the kids to enjoy. Not too far away was a beach, and in the distance, a few islands and the Quiberon peninsula were visible.

Back at the tent, we prepared a light dinner, or instead, Paula did and the kids and I did the washing up at the communal sinks for the site. Wandering back to the tent, we found Paula in conversation with our neighbours, who had turned up after a day out. I honestly don't know how she does it, but Paula can engage anyone in conversation and have their life stories out of them within minutes. So I was introduced to Mike and Jan, both in their thirties and their kids, Aaron and Dan, who were 7 and 8 respectively. They were in the second week of their holiday but had had a great time. They told us of several places to visit, including the standing stones at Carnac. Mike was a tall string bean type of guy, slightly balding with a roving eye as he scoped Paula pretty much all over and, no doubt, mentally undressed her, too. Jan was almost the opposite, short, slightly under five foot and a little dumpy, mousey brown curly hair but a sweet face and laughing eyes. After that they invited us all to the campsite bar for a few drinks and some chat whilst the entertainment was going on, we agreed, but only for a short while, travelling can tire you out.

At the bar, the beer was good, if expensive, and the singer could have been better but enthusiastic, which caught the mood of the other campers. Eventually, time and tiredness caught up with the kids, and Paula and Jan took their respective broods back to the tent. Mike seemed to be attempting to drink for England, though I wasn't in the mood for that. Plus, he was eying up the barmaid and any other lone female in the bar. So, as the saying goes, I made my excuses and left. I wasn't too tired, so I just wandered out to the beach, watched the sun go down, and mentally ticked it off my ‘to-do’ list,” then walked back in the increasing gloom to the tent.

When I approached the tent, I could hear the slight heavy breathing of sleeping people, so I decided to sit outside in the cool air until they were all sound out. Jan stuck her head out of the tent door and offered me a beer. Well, I certainly wasn't going to turn that down, so I said “Thanks” and sat on the patio-style furniture outside her tent to appreciate it and chat a little.

“Mike still at the bar?” she asked.

“Was when I left,” I replied.

She sighed, “Bloody man, he'll spend the next two hours getting pissed, eying up women, then come back here for a drunken fumble but be unable to perform.”

How did I get into these positions? It wasn't that I could really say a lot, but. “Man's a fool; some things aren't worth the time to miss.”

“You're too kind,” Jan giggled, “You'll turn my head if you aren't careful.”

“Wasn't your head I had in mind,” I replied. That was corny and didn't make sense, but Jan just laughed and said.

“Careful now, someone might come.”

I wasn't going to pass up that opportunity for a double entendre, so grinning broadly, I said, “We might be lucky that way, yes.”

“Oh, you're awful,” she smiled back at me and placed her hand on my cock, “Mmmmm nice.”

I was beginning to wonder if someone had just switched on some babe magnet inside me. This had never happened before. Sure, I'd had some luck, but this was way too easy for my normal life. Still, I wasn't going to say no, assuming we could find a way. So I leaned over to kiss Jan and said, “We'd have to be careful.”

“I know,” she breathed. “But I'm sick of the only time I'm wanted is when he's drunk.”

With that, she moved her chair into the darkest part of the bay, out of sight of the roadway and any prying eyes, and I followed her.

I sat, and she sat across my thighs, and we kissed again and again. Our hands wandered over each other's clothing and caressed what bare skin we could get at. Jan made a point to keep one hand on my covered cock and gently massaged it to its full stiffness.

The excitement of again tasting forbidden fruit gradually drew my hands to her shorts, and I hooked two thumbs into the waistband and slid them down along with her panties. She was soaking down there, clearly wanting some adult entertainment of the adulterous kind. My fingers began to probe her pussy and seek out her clit and the opening to her hidden treasures. She groaned so loud I thought it sure to be heard on the other side of the campsite.

“Oh God, that feels so good,” she gasped after she regained control of herself. You have a lovely touch.”

She then moved back to slip down my shorts and free up my cock for action. “Oh, is that all for me?” she purred.

“Oh yes, little one, for one night only perhaps,” I replied before kissing her passionately again.

“Good,” she said, “I need this.”

I moved myself to the edge of the seat, and Jan turned her back to me and straddled me, and carefully guided me into her pussy. My hands reached up to cup her breasts under her top as she slowly began to move up and down on my cock, trying hard not to make too much noise.

“Yessss,” she murmured. “Oh yesssss.” Slowly building up the pace as she took her pleasure from me.

Moving one of my hands down, I started to finger her clit, provoking even more gasps of pleasure as an orgasm overtook her and her pussy clamped down on my cock.

“Oh, you lovely man,” She purred, never once losing the rhythm of sliding my cock into her hidden depths. “I wish I could do this all night.”

“Always tomorrow,” I said.

“No,” she lamented, “We have to drive home the day after tomorrow so he won't be drinking.”

“Pity,” I said. “I'm enjoying this immensely.”

“Me too ... Ooooh, here we go again...” Her moans were audible this time, but fortunately, no one came to investigate.

“I'm going to cum too,” I gasped, and she lifted off me, turned and took me in her mouth, wanking me slowly and sucking hard till I exploded into her mouth in waves of sheer pleasure.

Swallowing, she said, “Sorry about that, but if he did get in, he'd know. Now I need to towel down. Would you mind holding the fort for me?”

“No problem,” I replied, feeling a bit dizzy from my efforts as I slowly pulled my shorts up.

Within five minutes, Jan was back. A quick kiss and a question: “Don't suppose you're ever up in Yorkshire?”

“Three or four times a year,” I replied. “Like a repeat performance?”

“Oooh, yes,” she sighed. Next time, you can have it all. I'll give you my mobile number and live in hope,” she said with a cheeky grin.

It was a good hope, but that's for another tale, some other time.

She left me then to settle down, and I went off to the washrooms to clean up; the last thing I wanted was for Paula to ask awkward questions. Yes, I know I'm single, but it's hers and the kid's hols, too.

On the way to the washroom, I passed a very tipsy Mike staggering home, smelling of beer, cigarettes, and what appeared to be cheap perfume. I idly mused that the next time he had Jan he'd never know he wasn’t the last man in there. With that, though, and now smelling of soap, I quietly slipped into the tent and my sleeping bag next to the gently snoring Paula and fell into a deep and satisfying sleep.

 

 

Chapter 3)

The next day was overcast and cool but perfect for a walk up to Carnac. If you've never been there, it's a bit like Stonehenge; only the stones go for miles. Kerry and Martin were fascinated, though they both tried to appear completely cool about it and the old digital camera was clicking like mad as Paula tried to get as many of us into the pictures with the stones as possible. At last, though, we wandered into the town of Carnac itself, which was a bit of a tourist trap but had a lot of Brasseries to grab a light lunch in. Though as ever in France, between the hours of twelve and two, everywhere else was shut or appeared to be. We settled down in a place called the Ch'ti bar, which, of course, the kids immediately, and to Paula's embarrassment, called the shitty bar. Lunch was superb and, like most French things, was prolonged and relaxed.

“What were you up to last night?” Paula asked after the kids went off to look at the internet café.

“Nothing,” I grinned.

“She was a bit noisy for nothing,” Paula remarked.

“Aah...,” she had me bang to rights.

“It's OK.” Paula smiled, “You at least didn't wake the kids or frighten the donkeys.”

“Sorry,” I said. “It wasn't planned.”

“Who was it?” she inquired.

“Jan,” I said.

“You're kidding! Oh, you rogue, she's a married woman!” Paula squeaked.

“Yes, but one who was very pissed off with her hubby and a bit neglected. Besides, what he doesn't know won't hurt him,” I hit back.

“True,” she mused, “But you'd better hope for her sake he never does.”

“That's for her to keep,” I said, “I'm not going to ruin things for her; I like the lady too much.”

“Some lady,” Paula mused.

“Hey!” I said, “Don't judge unless you've been in the same position.”

“Shows you what you know,” muttered Paula, but wouldn't be drawn further.

After that, we vacated the bar and wandered back to Trinite, stopping off occasionally to look at souvenir shops and pick up some gifts for the family.

The rest of the day continued overcast but became ever more humid and close. I expected to hear thunder at any time, but it never came. Although we had a barbecue for dinner and let the kids share a beer, not a lot else happened.

I did speak to Mike and Jan, though. Jan had a lovely twinkle in her eye as we bade each other farewell. Mike just appeared hung-over and a bit sullen, though not at me, just life in general. Jan also slipped me her mobile number and gave my cock a surreptitious squeeze in passing too. I planned on seeing that lady again; we had a lot of “in-depth” discussions to finalise when I was next 'oop North'.

After that, Paula, the kids, and I went to the bar to see what was happening. The reps had put on a 70s and 80s night, so being a dancing fool, I joined in and embarrassed the hell out of the kids and possibly Paula. Though it was too hard to tell, tears of laughter streamed down her face as Kerry and I did the 'bump', and I batted her across the floor and almost out of the door with an overly energetic pelvic swing.

Still, all good things come to an end, and we returned to the tent to settle for the night. The humidity was still far too high, so I changed into shorts and lay on top of the sleeping bag. Paula settled in, too, with just thin cotton shorts and a T-shirt, along with a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“Should rain and break soon,” I said.

“Hope so,” she yawned. “But not thunder; I hate thunder.”

In the background, there was a faint rumble, which did not bode well for a quiet night.

It was possibly an hour later that the rain started, light at first but gradually heavier as the heavens opened. Then there was an almighty crash of thunder, and a terrified Paula was in my arms, quaking in terror. I held her tightly and whispered calming words to try and soothe her fears. I don't know why she's frightened of it, but she is. It's irrational, but some fears are.

What was also irrational was the feeling of her perky, firm breasts pushing into me and the response from another part of my anatomy famed for having a mind of its own.

Gradually, the noise and rage of the storm settled, and a calmer Paula regained control of her fears only to figure out just what was pushing into her belly.

“Oh my,” she whispered, reaching down to grasp the obvious.

“Paula, I...”

“Shhh,” she whispered, “I feel quite complimented. Besides, this is only the second one I've ever felt.”

“Yes, but...”

“Shhh!”

She then began to slowly move her hand up and down my cock outside my shorts. “He's quite big,” She declared.

I'm not that big; I'm an average six inches, but this didn't feel like the time to be objective. My mind, though, was stunned. I've never viewed Paula in a sexual way before. Don't get me wrong, I know she's a looker and very attractive, but sexy? That was for other women.

Her hand then slipped inside my shorts...

“Paula!” I gasped, “You shouldn't! This is wrong!”

“Doesn't feel so wrong to me,” she said, “Feels very nice.”

She took one of my hands and gently slipped it under her top onto her breast. The nipple was erect, almost solid, and she moaned in pleasure as my finger and thumb gently rolled it; then, I kissed her, not a brotherly kiss but one of desire and need. Our tongues moved over each other and around each other, and my stiffness reached an almost painful level. My hands, almost of their own volition, reached out to slip Paula's top off and expose her breasts to my needy mouth.

“Oh yes,” she groaned and slid her hands down to remove my shorts.

As my mouth, teeth, and tongue pampered her nipples one at a time, my hand strayed down to slide under her shorts. She was smoothly shaven, almost silky smooth, and a further probe met wetness and obvious desire.

Paula then slid her shorts down and kissed me deeply, her hands wandering up and down my anatomy, constantly stopping to stroke my cock.

“That feels so good,” I whispered.

“I'm Glad I'm doing it right,” she said. I've not had a lot of practice.”

“Surely...”

“Shhh. Just love me; we can talk tomorrow if you want.”

I then moved my mouth down to taste her nectar and I'm so glad the sound of the rain on the tent drowned out most of the noise as Paula got very vocal indeed.

“Oh God, she wept. “No one has ever done that for me.”

I continued to swirl my tongue around her clit and her entrance and felt the tremors in her body increase until finally, she just stiffened and, grabbing a pillow, held it over her mouth and screamed the most intense orgasm I've ever seen in a woman. Her limbs were flopping and flailing all over the place, and she couldn't seem to catch her breath for the longest time.

Finally, she gasped with tears streaming down her face, “Is it always like that?”

“I don't know,” I replied. “I've never seen you cum before.”

“I never have,” she sobbed. “Kiss me, please.”

I gave her a slow passionate kiss as the sobbing gradually ceased and her hand reached down to my cock again.

“Please, Dave,” she begged, “I want this so much.”

I moved on top of her. She parted her legs, and I positioned my cock at her entrance.

“I'm so going to hell’, I thought as I slid my length deep within Paula's achingly tight pussy.

Paula gave a light scream and bit down on my shoulder as I penetrated her, and I adjusted my weight on her as she got used to feeling me within.

I then slowly withdrew almost to the tip, before thrusting home again and again.

Our entwined bodies moved to their own sexual rhythm. Paula's gasps and moans were masked by the rain on the tent, along with the creaking of the bed springs as I increased the tempo and power of my strokes.

Paula gradually moved her legs to increase the depth of my penetration until they crossed over the small of my back.

“Oh, Dave,” she gasped. “This is incredible. I've never felt this way before. I know it's wrong, but it feels so bloody good!”

Finally, I gasped, “I'm going to cum!”

Paula just pulled me close and cried, “Oh yes, oh yes!”

Two hard strokes and I erupted into her, groaning in pleasure as jet after jet of cum blasted into Paula's waiting pussy.

And we kissed and held each other close for a long time, saying not a word.

Eventually, though, Paula said, “We need to sleep. We'll talk about this tomorrow, but I'd like to do it again if you want me.”

“Oh yes, Paula, I want to do this repeatedly, but...”

“Later, my love, later,” she kissed me to silence me and slipped into her sleeping bag. I slipped into mine, into a world of lurid dreams and incestuous desires all focussed on the lovely and enchanting sister sleeping silently next to me...

 

 

Chapter 4)

Morning came with clear skies and the promise of a hot, sunny day. Paula was already up and in the washroom. It sounded like the kids had gone with her. My body pleasantly ached, especially my shoulder where Paula had bitten me in the throes of passion. Yet I had to wonder at parts of the conversation we'd had last night and wanted very much to hear the full story of how Paula had finally decided that incestuous adultery was something to be desired in her life.

Finally, I decided that introspection was getting me nowhere, so I set off for the washrooms.

Breakfast was a bit subdued for me. There were questions I wanted answers to, but there was no way I would ever bring this subject up in a public conversation. Afterwards, the kids begged Paula to let them go with the camp entertainment team to a jungle gym further down the coast for only €15 each. Paula, of course, agreed after seeing the reps, who said it was perfectly safe and the kids would love it.

Five minutes after waving them off, we were kissing frantically in the tent bedroom.

“Oh God, I want you so much,” Paula gasped as I tugged her top off to get to the ripe fruit beneath.

Paula can about get away without a bra, and today she hadn't bothered, and her beautiful perky breasts were exposed to my gaze for the first time. (Hey, it was dark last night; we made love in Braille). My God, they were perfect: pink puffy areolas with tiny button nubs, pale with faint blue veins running through them. I then slid down her shorts and pants to see the hidden treasure beneath them, too. I saw a beautifully formed mound with a gently glistening slit, a hooded clit hinting at more delights within, again pale and enchanting and had me aroused in a raging passion for my beautiful sister.

Paula had been busy, too, dragging my top and shorts off to reveal the body that had pleasured her so well last night.

“Oh, Dave, you're beautiful,” she gasped. I admit, this is not a compliment I'm used to, but it was very fitting for Paula.

“You're beautiful too, Sis,” I complimented her, watching a slow blush move down over her cheeks to touch the tips of her nipples.

“No one has ever called me that,” she said, kissing me deeply and hugging me tightly. Now take me, please!”

I started with soft kisses on her mouth and then her cheeks and moved down to kiss her soft, sensuous neck. My fingers traced patterns over her silky skin as she gasped in pleasure, her fingers curled down to caress my cock. I moved further down to suckle on each breast in turn.

“Ohhhh,” gasped Paula. “You do such good things to me!”

I smiled and continued my ministrations to her breasts as I slid a hand and then fingers down to rub gently at her moist slit, finally sliding the hood of her clit back to expose it to my probing fingers.

“Oh Dave, oh Dave, oh Dave,” she cried as an orgasm swept over her, causing her pussy to spasm and make her juices flow freely.

“God, how do you do that?” she cried. “I've never felt anything like it!”

“Well, it's supposed to be like this,” I murmured.

“It seems I've been missing out,” Paula said. I often thought I was from watching films on TV.”

Finally, I moved my mouth down to taste my sister for the second time, and Paula's squeals of pleasure rang out as she seemed to orgasm at each touch of my tongue, so sensitive was her pussy.

“Take me, take me, please,” she cried.

Well, who am I to deny a lady? So I again moved to kiss her and parted her legs to mount her, sliding into a gasp of sheer pleasure from my beautiful sister.

This time, though, I took my time, prolonging the pleasure and the agony of desire for both of us, riding Paula to a tempo that alternately speeded up and slowed down as the build to my orgasm began to mount too intensely until finally, Paula just exploded under me. Her legs rode up my back to force me deeper within her, and her fingers dug into my back in spasms of ecstasy. I took this as my cue to cum as well, and again; I blasted rope after rope of my cum into Paula's tight hot pussy as it spasmed under her intense orgasm and drank down my incestuous seed into its welcoming depths.

When I could see clearly again, I saw tears in Paula's eyes.

“Oh, Dave, if only I'd known,” she sobbed.

I rolled off and hugged her. “Tell me,” I said.

It seems I was right. Paula was a virgin when she married Kevin, but it wasn't for lack of trying on her part. It seemed Kevin wanted to wait to make it special.

Well, the honeymoon was memorable enough, though Kevin was rather unadventurous and made no effort to pleasure Paula. Being a bit naïve, Paula had accepted this and enjoyed sex but frankly wondered what all the fuss was about. If they made love (an irregular occurrence and one becoming more irregular as they got older), it was in missionary position only, and Kevin just mounted her quickly, with no foreplay, and used her. To paraphrase Robin Williams as Mrs Doubtfire, Kevin's idea of foreplay was to say, ‘Brace yourself, Paula’. Still, two wonderful kids and a lovely house filled her world, and she had an interesting job. Over the years, Paula heard, wondered about, and saw things on the net. But, when she broached them timidly with Kevin, he fobbed her off or got angry. Her one attempt to commence oral sex on him had been a disaster, and he'd said, “Nice people don't do that.”. But it had stifled the beginnings of adventurism in Paula.

The other thing she'd noticed was the gilded cage she found herself living in; she's even suspected Kevin of keeping an eye on her whenever she went out, but couldn't prove it, of course, but every attempt to expand her independence had been thwarted or foundered on Kevin's objections or machinations. She'd also discovered early on that Kevin could not bear her to be with any other man, save only for family, such was his jealousy and possessiveness. Still, such are the ways of the heart that Paula still loved Kevin, had no intentions of leaving him and had resigned herself to a dull and boring love life.

In the end it had been Maggs who came to Paula's rescue. Kevin's mother had invited her for lunch a year before the holiday, and in the chat, Paula had finally opened up and ended up sobbing her heart out to Maggs. Maggs had swiftly reassured Paula that she was not the one with the problem and had scandalously suggested that Paula take a lover. However, Kevin's paranoia at Paula even going out on her own quickly put paid to that. Yet the germ of an idea had grown until finally, just before a planned family holiday, Kevin had broken his leg. At first, Kevin was going to cancel it, kids to chaperone Paula or not; he was in fear of his own doubts. Yet Paula had thought of a way to escape even temporarily; it just depended on me being free. Indeed, if I had been working, she'd intended to beg me anyway.

Not that she'd planned on any incestuous coupling, just a hope that she might escape for a few hours with a stranger. Despite the risks involved, she figured I would cover for her but didn't know how she'd broach the subject.

As it was, listening to me making love to Jan and her fear of thunder had opened her eyes to a whole new world of pleasure.

“Oh my dear sis, if only I'd known,” I said

“Don't say anything to Kevin,” she begged.

“I won't if you don't want me to,” I replied. “In the meanwhile, how would you like to practice your oral technique on me?” I smiled.

“Yes, please,” Paula giggled and proceeded to go down on me.

“You can use your hand to move the foreskin back and your tongue to swirl around the head,” I gasped.

“Mmmm,” was the only reply I got as Paula took to the task with a will and a burning desire.

Finally, I was stiff again, and I asked her if she wanted to try doggy style.

Paula nodded, and I turned her over, placed a few pillows under her tummy to support her, and looked at the cutest arse just begging to be taken that I'd ever seen.

Moving behind her, I moved my cock into her wet slit and moved him up and down, just savouring the sensation until finally, I slid him into Paula and grasped her hips to aid my thrusts.

The squeal of pleasure nearly deafened me as my rampant cock slid in and out of that gorgeous hot wet pussy. I don't know if it was the perverted pleasure of doing something utterly forbidden by society. Still, both our climaxes were building rapidly and again, Paula just beat me as her whole body just spasmed in the most incredible orgasm, swiftly followed by another warm injection of my cum deep within her pulsating pussy.

“Oh, Dave,” she sighed. “I don't want to give this up.”

“Then don't,” I said. “Kevin won't mind if you visit me, will he?”

“No ... I don't think he will,” Paula replied. He's often asked why I don't visit Mum more often, too, and he often calls up when I do to make sure I'm there, too,” she said with a glint in her eye.

“Well, I'm sure you can still chat if your mouth isn't full,” I winked at her.

“You beast,” she laughed, but I could see the gleam in her eye too.

 

 

Chapter 5)

After we’d cleaned up the tent, we decided to go for a walk till the kids got back. We held hands as lovers do and chatted about nothing in particular, though it seemed to me that Paula was almost glowing in sheer pleasure. The peninsula was practically deserted, though dotted about were odd-shaped piles of rock, mostly made up of one stone piled on another and mostly conical. I never found out what it was about; it was just some art form, but it made for an interesting walk.

We reached the tip of the peninsula to look out upon the Atlantic Ocean and the Ile de Houat near the entrance to the Golfe du Morbihan, watching the yachtsmen scudding across the water and occasionally heading into Trinite.

“The Kids will be back soon,” I murmured. “That could make tonight interesting, my noisy sis,” I said with a laugh.

Paula giggled, “True, but where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“We’ll find a way,” I assured her. “Got lots to try yet.”

“Really?” Paula asked.

“Really,” I replied. It depends on you, of course, but there are a lot of positions and another port of entry, too.”

“Port of entry?” Paula asked quizzically.

“Your lovely bum, dear sis.” I laughed at her. “But only if you want; it might not be comfy or hurt if not done carefully.”

“You’re kidding, right?” She asked.

“No, some ladies really enjoy it, others use it to prevent pregnancies, others because their pussy is just for their man, and it isn’t cheating if a cock goes elsewhere.”

Paula blushed like mad now but said, “Have you...”

“Yes, once or twice when asked.” I broke in.

“I’ll have to think about it,” she said, though I could see a gleam in her eye. It’s something I could give just to you, I guess.”

By now, we’d wandered back towards the campsite, and I stopped at the shop to pick up a small bottle of baby lotion, just in case.

We’d just returned to the tent when screams and laughter announced Kerry and Martin's return. “Hi Mum, Hi Uncle Dave,” they chorused.

“Did you have a good time?” Paula asked.

“Yes,” Kerry replied. “And Martin has a girlfriend, too.”

“Really?” I asked Martin, who had blushed down to his hair roots.

“Sort of.” He choked out, “She’s called Krisztina, and she’s from Holland; she’s nice.” He said this, almost pleading with his eyes for us to shut up.

“She’s fifteen too,” said Kerry

“Good for you,” I said, “Girls are fun, even cradle-snatching ones.” I glanced slyly at Paula, who simply grinned at us all.

“Of course we are.” Said Kerry with a grin.

After a takeaway dinner, we all decided to walk to the town of Trinite and see what the nightlife was like. We just wandered in and out of the shops, bars, and harbour/marina until we’d seen all we wanted to, then strolled back to the campsite. Kerry and Paula were arm in arm, and Martin and I were chatting about Warhammer, at least until the ladies were out of earshot, at which point the conversation turned to girls.

“Uncle Dave?” Martin asked. “How do you talk to girls? I mean, really talk, not just boy stuff like Warhammer?”

“Well, she might like Warhammer; you never know,” I replied. However, a good way is to ask questions to find out what she likes, too.”

“Krisztina’s into music.” Martin replied, “But I’ve never heard of half the bands she listens to.”

“The best way is just to ask her to listen to some of her favourite stuff and ask who they are and why she likes them,” I replied. But be honest: if you don’t like them, say so.”

“Ok.” He replied. “Anything else?”

“Girls like to be complimented,” I said. “Just tell her she looks nice.”

“OK. Anything else?”

Remembering Paula’s tale about Kevin, I replied, “It’s early days yet. Just enjoy her company. You might never meet again, but that’s no reason not to be nice to her; you never know what might happen.”

I just hope he’ll turn out more like his Mum. He should, though. He definitely has Paula’s personality, both of them have.

That night, we stayed up late playing cards; I confirmed once again why I should never gamble losing every hand as they all laughed at my lack of skill or sheer bad luck, as I called it.

The kids then went to bed, and Paula and I sat outside for a while until we felt they’d settled. Then Paula went in to get ready, too.

Five minutes later, I let myself into the bedroom to find Paula waiting naked on top of her sleeping bag.

Swiftly stripping off, I joined her, and we fell into each other's arms. Our lips kissed, and our tongues slid into each other's mouths and entwined with passion. Telling Paula to lie flat on her tummy and sitting beside her, I slid my hand between her slightly parted thighs and started to probe her pussy with my fingers, slowly drawing my index finger up and down her slit as she gasped with pleasure. Gradually I moved to run my finger around her clit and another into her pussy itself as Paula now groaned into a pillow to keep the noise from her pleasure to a minimum. I then used my thumb to probe the entrance to her back passage, slowly applying pressure and then backing away to put a little more lubrication from her already very moist pussy onto the tip. When Paula was near the edge of orgasm, though, I slid the tip into her back passage, and it was as if I’d turned on a lightswitch as Paula bucked and flailed in a massive orgasm, biting into her pillow to keep the muffled screams from the ears of the kids.

“Oh my fucking God!” she gasped out a minute later when she had herself under control, “I’ve never felt anything like that before; I thought my heart was going to stop.”

“Sometimes like that,” I said, “Makes for the most intense orgasms in some women.”

“Not sure if I want you putting your cock in there ... yet.” She said, “But it’s moved to a definite maybe.”

“Your body, your rules,” I said and moved on top of her, sliding my cock into her hot tight pussy and using short strokes to pleasure us both so as not to have the noise of bedsprings waking up the (hopefully) deeply asleep kids.

Paula continued to groan in pleasure as again I took my time; though she never orgasmed again, she just arched her back to meet each stroke until, at last, I pushed home hard and gasped out in my pleasure as again I sent spurt after spurt of my cum deep within her.

We held each other close in the afterglow, and Paula said, “Will it bother you if Kevin still has me?”

“Well, no,” I replied, “He is your husband, after all, and I know you love him.”

“Well, yes, I do,” she said, “But I think I love you too.”

“That’s ok,” I said, “Just don’t fall in love with me; if anyone found out about this, we might be looking at prison and you having your kids taken away.”

“I know,” she said, shuddering. But I want this delight in my life, and yes, I’ll love you, but just not be in love with you.”

“That’s called having your cake and eating it.” I smiled.

“I intend to have a lot of cake.” She grinned in return, “I can’t go back to the old diet having tasted something new ... and better.”

“Just remember the rules,” I said, “Rule 1) don’t get caught. Rule 2) if in any doubt about anything, refer to Rule 1)”

Paula stifled a laugh at that and kissed me passionately. “Sleep well, oh wise bro,” she murmured.

“Sleep well, oh sexy sis,” I replied.

The following day though, both Paula and Kerry started their monthlies, which was a damned shame from my strictly selfish point of view. Paula looked at it stoically, “At least the kids won’t hear us for a few days.” She said when informing me. “Besides, it’ll give you a chance to chase down fresh prey.”

“Don’t be silly, sis; I’m not going to upset you like that,” I replied.

“Dave,” she replied, “I don’t own you. As long as you aren’t doing it in the tent beside me or embarrassing me or the kids, it’s okay.”

Well, I had no intentions, but I gave her a brotherly hug. “No problem,” I said.

Paula and Kerry then set off for Trinite to pick up various items and have some quality mummy-daughter time, leaving Martin and me to tidy up and leave ourselves to our own devices. In Martin’s case, this meant going to find Krisztina.

It was an hour later that a woman came to the tent. Tall (at least 5’ 10”), she was in her early thirties, with very short dark hair, a large nose, brown eyes, and an average, if raw-boned figure. She was also obviously pregnant. “Hi, I’m Krisztina’s mother. My name is Maartje,” she said with a pronounced Dutch accent. Martin asked me to let you know he and Krisztina had gone with my husband to Carnac for the day.

“Oh, right,” I said, “Aren’t you going with them?”

“No,” Maartje replied, “I do not travel so well at the moment, and it is too hot to walk around like I am.”

“How far along are you?” I asked.

“Six months and more trouble than Krisztina. I think it must be a boy; they’re always trouble,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Depends on whether the trouble is worth it,” I laughed.

“Depends on the boy.” Maartje said, “Sometimes it is, sometimes not. It was a nice accident, though; we did not expect this. Would you like to have a cup of tea with me? Keep each other company?”

“Yes, sure,” I said.

I walked alongside Maartje to her tent. She was obviously struggling a bit, so I held out my arm to assist her.

“Thank you,” she said, “Some days, I just ache all over and feel like a beached whale.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I replied. “Pregnant ladies have an inner glow, and some guys find them quite attractive even when they do not.”

“That I should have such a guy.” Laughed Maartje, “Gus finds the whole business somewhat offputting.”

“Silly Man,” I said.

At her tent, Maartje prepared tea for both of us, serving it with a slice of lemon. She sighed with relief at finally sitting down, though it wasn’t long before she was moving about. “Today I just ache,” she sighed.

“I could massage your shoulders,” I said. “My ex-wife ached all through her two pregnancies, and she found it a relief.”

“Would you?” Asked Maartje, “I think I’d like that.”

I started on her shoulders, gradually kneading the tense muscles and provoking small sighs of contentment and a few moans as I dug in a bit hard.

“That was heaven,” She said, but my legs ache the most.”

“I can do them too, but you’ll have to lie down somewhere,” I replied.

“We have a spare bed here; we can use that,” Maartje said, leading me into the tent and one of the small bays. “Do you want me to remove my shorts?” she asked.

“That’ll help,” I said. So off came her shorts and T-shirt.

“It’s just too hot in here,” She said.

Things started well, and Maartje enjoyed my ministrations, though the closer I got to the top of her thighs, the more obvious it was that she was enjoying it in more ways than one.

“Do you find pregnant ladies attractive?” Maartje finally asked.

“Very much so,” I said.

“Thought as much,” She said, looking directly at my groin and the evidence of my pleasure in touching her. She then leaned up to kiss me, “I think I need a bit more than a massage she grinned. Gus hasn’t touched me since I started to grow, and I need the touch of a man to remind me that I’m a woman.”

I kissed her again, moving down her body to kiss the bulge where the baby lay as she sighed in contentment. I slid my fingers into her pants and gently massaged her pussy as her hips twitched in pleasure at my touch; we kissed again, no tongues, just lots of little kisses all over her lips, face and neck. My other hand deftly slid under her back, unclipped her bra and removed it. Full breasts sprang out to reveal themselves, big dark brown nipples coming more alive to my touch. Maartje’s hands weren’t idle either, stroking my cock in my shorts until I stood back and removed my clothing. Then removed her panties and moved between her thighs to kiss her very hairy pussy. I wormed my tongue into the crack and sought out Maartje’s clit. “Oooooh,” She sighed, “That is so good! I have missed this so much.”

I slid one, two, then three fingers into her, to her body’s obvious delight as her hips rolled and twitched until finally, she came with a series of sighs and moans.

I moved to lie alongside her and kissed her, then hooking her nearest leg over both of mine, I angled my hips and legs to allow my cock to nestle at her entrance and slowly slid into her.

“Oh yes,” Was all she said, and I started to thrust my hips to move my cock in and out of her gates of paradise. I also used my left hand to continue to stimulate her clit as we fucked, and she went into what appeared to be a continuous orgasm, no massive explosions, just constant pleasure measured by the continual gripping of her pussy on my cock every minute or so.

“I’m going to cum,” I gasped.

Maartje just leaned over and kissed me as my cock spasmed into orgasm, giving a whole new meaning to the term “wetting the baby's head” to me.

With a sigh, we withdrew slightly from each other.

“I shouldn’t have let you do that,” Maartje said. “But I needed it.”

“I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you,” I replied, “But I could see what your body wanted even so.”

“Yes.” She sighed. Then, with a grin, she said, “Don’t suppose we could do it again?”

“As soon as I’m able,” I said with a grin.

“Let me help,” Maartje said and promptly moved to take me in her mouth. Within five minutes, I was stiff again, and with Maartje kneeling on the bed, I took her from behind. Long pistoning strokes slid into her as she moved her hips in time with them, her constant moans of pleasure adding a wonderful chorus to the twanging of the bedsprings until finally, I came again, filling her with my cum and collapsing on the bed next to her.

“We must get dressed,” said Maartje. There's no telling when they’ll be back. Please don’t think I’m not grateful, but perhaps we should not do this again.” She sighed.

We disentangled from each other and dressed quickly. Maartje nipped off to the washrooms, and I returned to our tent, feeling somewhat bemused at my abrupt dismissal. Then again, it was understandable; Maartje had a lot more to lose than I did.

 

Chapter 6)

On my return, I was just about to go into the tent when a loud “Hello!” stopped me. I turned and saw a slightly older lady in her mid-forties, small and slim, with a massive pair of glasses and what appeared to be a massive case of the frizzies in her hair.

“Hello,” I replied.

“I wonder if you can help us,” she said. “We've just arrived today and can't seem to get our stove to work.”

“I'll be glad to have a look,” I said and followed her to the tent next door, which was a scene of chaos. Bags were strewn everywhere as what appeared to be two families struggled to move their belongings into the tent.

“My name's Mary,” said the petite slim lady. “From Edinburgh.”

“I'm Dave; you've travelled some way,” I replied.

“Indeed,” she said, “Though we did stop over en route.”

I wandered over to the stove where what appeared to be Mary's sister was muttering whilst holding the gas knob open and using a lighter to try and bring it to life, to no avail. I couldn't even hear or smell gas, so I suspected that they hadn't turned the bottle on and, with a quick check, was quickly able to get things going for them.

“Oh, thank God,” said Mary. “Let's get some water on the boil. Oh, Dave, this is my sister, Yvonne, and that's Chrissy, my daughter and George, her son. I'd introduce you to our men, but they buggered off almost as soon as we got here, probably to the bar.”

“The beer is good,” I said. “But it's way too early for me.”

“Same for us,” said Yvonne. “Suppose we should just be grateful they agreed to bring us,” she said with an infectious grin.

“Are you twins?” I asked hesitantly, aware I was entering dangerous territory with ladies ages.

“Yes,” said Mary. “Though not identical.”

We chatted for a while, with me providing my details and the local highlights and them providing theirs.

Eventually, I heard Paula and Kerry arrive back, so I waved them over. The conversation started about families and events until we left to have dinner.

“I like them,” said Paula.

“Me too,” I replied.

“Pair of them giving you the eye, though,” said Paula; Kerry nodded, too.

“Bet they can't wait to get you drunk and have their wicked way with you,” she grinned.

I laughed and said, “I don't fancy duelling a couple of outraged Scotsmen, thanks, as I'm sure they'd notice me sneaking in their tent.

That was a preview of Family Desires, The Dave's World Compilation. To read the rest purchase the book.

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