Young Rachel has a new school and a new tutor, her mother's new lover.
Sunday had passed in a blur for Gary Fowler. Deprived of his ritual Saturday night session of drinking with the regulars at the Plough he had woken sober and confused believing the strange recollections must have been some kind of fever dream; he had withdrawn groaning back beneath the covers when he had realised that they were memories.
He lay in that morning thinking about his behaviour since he left the army. Time alone had induced a degree of reflection that was new to him, and that caused him much perturbation. It was as though a mirror had been placed directly in front of him and he was being forced to look at his self-inflicted blemishes. Particularly, he was thinking of Mala Gupta, the wife of the owner of the “Taste of India” restaurant chain. She had hoped for more from the handsome young workman who had entered her life. She had wanted to lay Gary in a bed of rose petals and love him with sensual oils. Gary, in his arrogance wanted none of that, and had given her his way of loving. An experience that had plainly affected her, as had the disappearance of her favourite elephant broach.
The rest of the day had been spent nursing pints in the tap room at the Plough while pool games were played and gossipy nodding went on from fellow regulars around him. The popular opinion was that Gary wasn’t feeling himself.
Early Monday started with his drive round to pick up the team for the big job in town. Wayne was first.
‘Mornin’ Gazza. Feeling better today?’ he asked
‘Eh? What do ya mean?’ he responded irritably.
‘From what our kid said you ‘ad a right monk-on last night.’
Gary thought as fast as he could. ‘It were a bloody hard week, last week.’
‘Aye, yer puttin’ in like twelve ‘ours a day’. The lads’ll chip in, yer know, on that evenin’ job.’
Gary dismissed the notion inventively. “Ha! They’ve told me it’s either just me or nought. They’re dead frit’ about getting robbed and that.’
Foreman Paul was next. ‘Ayup, Casanova!’ he chirped as he shuffled on to the bench seat.
‘Morning gaffer.’ Although the son of the owner, Gary still had to recognise the organisational structure.
‘Yer gonna be givin’ it yer whole length this week eh?’ he winked at Jake the apprentice, who clambered in through the side door.
‘Morning Gazza,” the bleary eyed youngster piped. ‘Are we stopping off at caff on’t way?’
‘Eh, the lad needs to fill up his testicles,' Paul japed. ‘good ta’ see a young lad spillin’ his junk at weekend.’
‘Gaffer, leave it out, me mum forgot me brekky.' he was learning he needed to respond to the blokes around him. Most days started with this kind of joviality.
But, noticeable to all, Gary wasn’t part of it. All had joked about the sexy, buxom aristocrat that he was devoting so much of his time toward, but none seriously believed that any “funny business” was going on. That would have been absurd; it was that absurdity that made the matter funny. But the secret dilemma he was presented with was very stark and as with very little before in his life, he took it very seriously. The prospect of a sexual Disneyland with a gorgeous mother and daughter combo needed to be weighed up against the accusative, destructive forces of society not known to be permissive of the type of relations that were being offered to him.
Of course, in the end, no moral choice was made and he found himself parking his van in the tradesman’s bay outside of the Grange’s walled garden at five prompt. It was Monday, and Wilf, who had been mowing the lawn on a little tractor, opened the gate.
‘Back fer more eh, Gary me lad?’ he asked him.
He decided to be nonchalant in his reply. ‘Aye, I’ll be glad when this bloody job is out of the way Wilf, I can tell yer.’
Wilf looked at him over his half moon glasses. Well, judging by t' job yer doin’, yer gonner be ‘ere a while yet, eh?’
He looked at the work he completed the previous Saturday. In his haste, he had failed to cover it with a ground sheet, and a thunderstorm during the night had lifted two of the tiles and spoiled his unset grouting work. ‘Chuffin’ heck!’ he cursed. The rework would take the whole of the rest of his day. Wilf cackled as he walked back to his mower.
There was a commotion on the main drive to the house as three delivery vehicles unloaded some kind of equipment into the main entrance of the house. He asked Wilf about the activity when the old gardener was locking up his sheds.
‘Some kind ‘er function early next month so I’ve been teld,’ Wilf scrunched up his nose, ‘and look at this bloody garden, a right mess, not like when t‘Captain were still alive. She should ‘a seld it when he went. At least it’d get looked after then eh?’ Wilf grunted his displeasure. ‘Still if it ain’t got burnt out cars on, so t’ little missus’ is ‘appy.’
Gary concluded, looking around at what seemed to him a rather respectable garden, that Wilf’s standards were impossibly high.
As he continued to work after the old man had left him, his attention was drawn by a figure that was regularly appearing by the side of the house. It seemed to be directing the final operations that had caused a grumpy Wilf to re-rake the gravel on the front drive. That figure looked over toward him and began to approach. As it grew in size it became more familiar and finally the well dressed, distinguished gentleman became known to him. ‘Bloody hell, what’s he doin’ ere!’ Gary thought to himself.
‘Young Gary Fowler isn’t it?’ the figure asked.
‘Aye, yer ‘onour.’ Gary replied. Not without a few nerves.
‘It was never “Your Honour” Gary,’ Colonel Charles Mortimer MC MBE JP Esq conceded. ‘I am a mere magistrate, a simple Mr. Mortimer will suffice, unless you are going to be up before me of course.’ His good humoured accusation soon upgraded into a smile. ‘but from what I hear that’s unlikely, how are you Gary?’
Gary sighed in relief. ‘Aye, well …Mr Mortimer, working bloody hard.’
‘Yes, your success, well, your father’s as well, it’s a source of immense pride for both myself and my colleagues,’ Mr. Mortimer nodded in satisfaction. ‘how is your father?’
‘He’s well aye,' Gary began to relax. Mr. Mortimer had the aura of ease that the well bred generated. ‘He’s well in t’straight and narra’ now. Well dosed with it he is, like.’
‘Yes, that is so gratifying. One can never be sure with two robust characters as yourselves, but it certainly shows the benefits of well directed leniency in the justice system.’
‘Aye, Darren’s comin’ out t’forces next month, like’.
‘Darren, Darren, ' Mr. Mortimer frowned, he had a rather strong prejudice against illegitimacy, ‘Yes, I hope he has grown up too.’
‘Aye, married he is now, like. Kid on t' way.’
‘Well, that is a happy story, if only all were like that. Well, now I must apologize Gary, this function is not going to organize itself I’m afraid, and time is not on my side.’
‘Oh, no your…Mr Mortimer I’m in’t same boat.’
Mr. Charles Mortimer bid farewell and walked purposefully back to the house, leaving Gary to his work and more misgivings concerning his recent behaviour.
Tuesday came, and the sleepless nights began to have their effect on Gary. He had been irritable all day and with the exception of Paul the foreman, his colleagues were beginning to become reticent with their jokes for fear of making the work environment unpleasant. Later, as a warm summer evening bathed his nut brown torso, satisfactorily, he could look at four tenths of the pool, with new tiling and a quality he was happy with. At about six o’clock Samantha interrupted him with a start and her customary lemonade. ‘Gary, I see you are progressing very well.’
‘Aye, thanks…Samantha. Aye it’s had a couple of hiccups, but it’s coming along.’’
Samantha frowned at the perfectly arranged pattern. ‘it’s unfortunate, but I am going to have to change my plans I’m afraid.’ Gary’s heart leapt to his throat. Was he about to lose his drug? ‘ I really need to finish this job as soon as possible, is there no way that more resources can be assigned to it?’
‘I guess I can ask me Dad. He’ll want to get it done in budget mind.’
His face slumped in disappointment, and to Samantha he had obviously looked as though he assumed all other arrangements were ending too. It was a misapprehension she wasn’t in a hurry to rectify. ‘Naturally there will be a recalculation with regards to cost, but we can work that out when you come to the house later.’
‘House, later, aye Mrs…Samantha’, He reacted excitedly.
‘Yes, it is Rachel’s first day at her new school.’
‘Oh right’ Gary replied.
‘Yes, she has a lovely new uniform, I think she is quite anxious for you to see it.’
‘Oh right’ He repeated comically.
‘Yes, and of course she has homework.’
‘Homework.’ Gary felt his bodily redirection of hormones and Samantha noticed.
‘Yes, of course it hasn’t been set by the school, but I would very much like to give her a head start.’
‘Aye, like, get ‘er ‘itting the ground runnin’.
‘Exactly Gary,' Samantha smiled and extended her hand to Gary’s crotch area, he didn’t disappoint. ‘she is in need of a practical tuition. Theory is all very well, but real learning is achieved on the job…' Samantha giggled, ‘so to speak.’
Gary stood, clenched his hands and glowered at Samantha as though he were about to put his head back and bellow like a bull. Samantha smiled, impressed by his aroused countenance. ‘I do so hope you will be of assistance to the poor child.’
He did not change his expression when he spoke. ‘Oh aye! I’ll give her all the ‘elp she needs.’
‘I am so glad. Please, don’t let me disturb your work further. Will you be finished for eight?’
‘Eight, aye Mrs…Samantha.’ It was difficult for him to work with an erection and a one hundred and forty beat per minute heart rate, but as he covered his newly laid tilework two hours later, he congratulated himself on it’s quality.
He found Samantha barefoot in the kitchen as he undid and kicked off his boots. His lover was impatient, ‘Follow me, ' she whispered and led him by the hand upstairs and into the bathroom. ‘I think we need to prepare you properly, wash all of that working grime from you, Mmm’?’
This was a new delight. The feel of Samantha’s soft ampleness built a platform of lust that he felt had a permanence. His vital areas were not spared from her attention and his bristly pubic hair was softened under the exotic smelling creams and lotions that she applied. Such was her skill and tempo that he felt far away from any release, but also felt that a foundation had been laid upon which a golden house may be constructed. At least, that is how he would have felt, if such poetic thoughts ever occurred in his deeply literal mind.
Samantha, in her bedroom, threw on panties and a loose nightshirt and he was suddenly deprived of the sight of her lovely body. She encouraged him on to the bed where he leaned back on the small mound of pillows behind him. Only after his penis finally throbbed and pulsed it’s way to a respectable softness did she call to her daughter. ‘Sweety darling?’
Rachel entered the bedroom sheepishly. Her school uniform was expensive, well fitting and hid her sexuality. She stood in front of Gary stock straight, staring nervously at his nakedness, lying dormant along his thigh. ‘Oh, honey, say hello to Mr. Fowler.’
‘Hello Mr. Fowler.’
‘Good, now what was it that we had decided earlier?’
‘Sorry Mummy.’ She exhaled and moved her weight onto one hip and tilted her head. It instantly transformed her shape into one of a coquettish teaser.
‘Very good Hun’, her mother said, ‘Now, hat, and remember, don’t lose eye contact.’
She didn’t, and Rachel’s soft hair bundled toward her shoulders. The next stage came without any prompting from her mother, a simultaneous loosening of the tie with one hand and unfastening of top blouse buttons with the other, resulted with the now detached fastener being dropped to the floor.
Mrs. Burton moved to Gary’s side and held his soft genitals. She wanted to judge her daughter’s performance by Gary’s natural reaction. ‘Breathe in darling, and remember, long for him.’
Rachel didn’t make a reply but altered her posture to make her large pert breasts more of a feature. Her expression became more intense, but remained focused on Garry. Her left hand partially vanished under the tightly pulled buttons of her shirt, which widened as these fastenings were released. Her right hand disappeared behind her.
‘Yes, very good sweets, but remember to shift your weight.’ Rachel responded by transferring her balance from one hip to the other and presented a more relaxed pose. The pleats on her skirt bunched as her hemline descended a few inches and her blouse became free, however, before she gave Gary a glimpse of her undergarments, she turned her shoulder, looking and smouldering at his eyes as she did.
Gary’s cock began to twitch. Over the past week he had begun to appreciate the thing that he had been deliberately ignoring throughout his one-sided sexual life; that the woman had an active and important role in his pleasure.
‘Now you have begun teasing baby, what do you do?’ Samantha asked her daughter.
Rachel thought about this and nodded. ‘I remember Mummy.’ She gave out a teasing, childlike giggle
Her mother felt the excitement of Gary who rapidly began to stiffen.
‘That’s good honey, now shoes.’
Rachel moved toward Gary, who flinched slightly as she placed her shod foot on the bed between his legs, an inch away from his encapsulated cock. He gained a view of Rachel’s pale blue panties as she did this and she slowly rolled down her long socks, slowly unbuckled her staid school shoes, pouted and carefully observed her own actions. After removing both items, she repeated the process on the other side and gave another sultry turn away. Her skirt dropped to the floor and Rachel put her index finger to her mouth.
‘Rachel, sweetheart. It’s not a Carry On film. Remember, you are the granddaughter of a baronet. Try again.’
‘Yes Mummy' replied Rachel who bent to retrieve her fallen garment and readopted her pose. This time she turned, let it fall, opened her legs, arched her back and gave Gary a scared, doe-eyed look, that made his cock jump.
‘Very good darling,' Samantha responded. ‘I couldn’t have done it better myself.’
Next, Rachel’s shoulder appeared and she followed the line of her blouse with her eyes as it descended. She moved onto her other hip, turned away, gave Gary a glimpse of her other shoulder and let her shirt drift floorward. Her matching pale blue flowered bra held her big tits as they punched into the warm air of the bedroom.
Samantha began to manipulate Gary’s now erect penis. He looked down to see his foreskin slowly moving back and forth. Rachel, also saw this and her eyes widened with lust.
‘Rachel sweetie, be demure. Don’t become too excited Hun.’
‘’Yes Mummy. Sorry.’
‘Now, honey, you have two ways of removing your bra, can you remember Mummy’s favourite?’
‘I think so,’ Rachel replied.
‘Arch your spine and draw your shoulders back dear. Yes, like that but a slight turn. Perfect.’
Rachel tucked in her chin and retained eye contact with Gary who was being steadily monitored and controlled by her mother and reached up to undo the front clasp of her flowery pale blue brassiere. It gently dislodged and the garment relaxed and parted, leaving the mammary flesh beneath, to settle and relax into their new position. As she removed it, her nipples burst forth and received a slight tender touch from the wired part of her bra as it was lifted wide of her chest, causing her lips to redden and shudder.
‘Very good baby,' Samantha lauded as her daughter dropped her bra to the floor. ‘now,' the mother stood and removed her own night shirt and stood showing her lovely round panty clad bottom to Gary. ‘like this darling.’ She took her panties down half way, gave a wiggle of her hips, during which they travelled a further two inches, and slowly drew them down her long, well toned legs. ‘Now, your turn baby.’
Rachel turned and performed the same movement. However with a facial expression that displeased her mother. ‘That’s nearly perfect honey, but try not to look like a common prostitute. You will be trying to entice the great and good in society, people of decent and refined tastes. Behaving like a nasty, filthy, horrible little slut is not going to do that.’
‘No Mummy, sorry Mummy’.
That’s fine. Let’s move on. Remember we talked about self control.
‘Yes Mummy.’
‘Now baby, when we are being fucked it is important to stay in control and be confident. Men are likely to take advantage of their partner if the girl is unable to respond to changing situations. Mmm?’
‘Yes, I remember Mummy’.
‘So that is what we are going to practice here. Mr. Fowler is going to fuck you at various degrees of intensity and you will try to stay in control so that you can manage the situation. Is that clear? Is there something wrong Mr. Fowler?’
Gary had squirmed uncomfortably with the thought of actual sexual intercourse with the young girl. ‘Er, no, er. Nothing.’ He replied.
‘Good, could you stay in readiness please, whilst I prepare my daughter?’
Gary was stupefied with the request. ‘Aye, I’ll keep on doing this.’ He replied, pulling his penis slowly. As he did, Samantha turned her daughter on to the bed beside him and lay her down.
‘Widen your legs honey-bun, I need to make you ready for Mr. Fowler’s cock.’
‘Yes, Mummy.’ As he watched Samantha use her fingers and mouth to dilate and moisten her daughter’s vagina, Gary wondered how many penises this girl had had inside her. He was obviously not to be her first, and who? Apart from the Colonel and old Wilf, and the various delivery men, who else might have access to this wonder of girlhood.
Her breathing became heavier and more voiced as her mother lapped slowly and softly at her daughter’s lovely red gash. At last she touched the upper part of it’s opening with her middle finger and drew away a thin line of gel-like dew that broke after a gap of no more than two inches. ‘I think my little baby is ready.’ She said, as though talking to a small child. Her tone changed when she turned to Gary. ‘Mr. Fowler, I would like a nice slow rhythm from you with a sudden, sustained jolt on the very last in-thrust. Is that within your capabilities?’
‘Aye, I guess Mrs. Barton.’ Gary was not thrilled to be patronised in this way, but the prospect of the welcoming, lubricated young tunnel of a youthful girl thrilled him more.
‘Don’t forget what happens if you revert to your old behaviour Mr. Fowler.’
He wasn’t likely to forget that and rolled over slowly on top of Rachel to begin the process of copulation.
‘Now, can you kneel between her legs Mr. Fowler, are you okay baby?’
‘Yes, Mummy, I am feeling tingly Mummy.’
‘That’s natural darling, I’m going to put these pillows beneath your bottom to lift you into a more comfortable level for his cock, mmm honey?’
‘Yes Mummy.’
Gary looked down to where Samantha was placing the soft bedding as Rachel crabbed her mid-section into the air. Eventually, his dick was pointing directly at the drooling cunt as it quivered tantalizingly. The mother pressed his bottom onward to encourage the union.
Rachel’s mouth was slightly open as his smooth, deep red exposed cock head began disappearing and, when wholly inside, the young girl’s eyes widened. Samantha continued her encouragement. ‘Relax poppet, let Mr. Fowler’s penis stretch you out a little.’
The young girl greeted his first two inches of entry with a soft little whine, followed by a lusty groan. ‘Oooo, nnnngg!’ another inch and Gary was given his next instruction.
‘Thrust hard now please Mr. Fowler.’ He did so and Rachel responded with a little squeak. ‘Very good honey; again please but a little firmer.’ The last request, directed at Gary, was complied with and the squeal was repeated. He saw no reason to relent and made these movements again and again as Rachel’s short high pitched noises began to grow in intensity. They reached a point where her mother felt she had to intervene.
‘Now, darling I want to talk to you okay? Please keep up the pace Mr. Fowler.’
‘Aye, aye…' repeated Gary, not altogether in control himself.
’Now, I want you to think of something special baby. We don’t want you to waste all of your lovely orgasmic energy too early do we?’
‘No… Mummy.’ Rachel screeched.
‘No, we need to be able to manipulate the gentleman. But, and this is very important, the gentleman mustn’t know this. He must think that he is in control. Hmm?’
‘I...remember… Mummy’!
‘Now, do you feel his wide soft glans rubbing up inside you? Pretend it is something really, really silly. Like a gummy bear or something like that.' Rachel scrunched her eyes as she let go her small piercing screeches.
‘And think that your fanny is just sucking a lollipop on a warm summer day; on the beach in Crete, remember baby?’
Rachel continued with her screams as she focused on these new external imaginings. Her vocalisations began to die down slowly. Her mother was delighted.
‘Yes, that’s my little Baby, I’m so proud of you; my little baby!’
Gary’s well controlled work was being spoiled, so he thought, by Rachel’s newly found inactivity. He felt steadily more impotent.
‘Now, honey, ‘ Samantha continued, ‘I want you to pretend. You won’t be very good at the start, but you will learn to be much more convincing as you get older. Tell Mr. Fowler that you like it.’
‘I like it Mr. Fowler.’
‘Can you use bad language baby, like we practiced? Mr. Fowler, could you increase your speed please?’
Gary began to work harder and Rachel began to lose control again, however her mother didn’t interrupt this new course. ‘Oh, F,F,..’
‘Yes baby, say it. Say “Fuck” baby, tell Mr. Fowler you like it, you like being fucked!’
‘Fuck,' Rachel said quietly, ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck…'
‘Yes baby,' enthused her mother, ‘Harder please Mr. Fowler.’
Gary began grunting and Samantha looked closely at him. He started to sweat and he felt himself close. As his grunting started to become more staccato she broke their union, grabbed Gary by the testicles and placed her thumb tightly on the back of his cock, fully cutting off any sperm passage that may have had the audacity to make an appearance. He screamed and howled his objection ‘Jesus, fucking Christ! Fucking bitch! Jesus fuck!’
Rachel scrambled away as her mother calmly kept hold of the genitals of a panicking Gary Fowler who shouted his torment in to the humid air of the bedroom.
After a minute of turmoil he started to calm until he finally collapsed on to the bed, still under control from a totally unruffled Samantha.
‘That young lady, was the height of bad manners!’ she looked sternly over at her daughter, ‘you should never run away from a man when he is in this kind of distress. He is to be comforted in such moments.’
‘Sorry Mummy.’
‘Well, no matter, we are, after all, only practicing.’
Gary was angry, confused and in steadily reducing pain from his treatment. The hurricane of testicular activity he had generated had been redirected back into his own balls. They felt heavy and pressurised and as a result he glowered at Mrs. Barton. ‘What t’bloody ‘ell did yer just do?’
‘Oh stuff and nonsense Mr. Fowler, you should be able to take a bit of gonadal restriction from a wee little girly like myself. Some of my gentleman friends undergo the process twelve, thirteen times in succession, and they are not big, strapping, young specimens like yourself!’
Gary was quite flabbergasted by her statement and lay cowed as Samantha carried on her tuition.
‘So, we obviously have some things to work on there darling. Let’s move on to male ejaculation and then we can allow Mr. Fowler get on with his evening.’
So, this was simply a lesson, Gary realised. The prospect of himself satisfying the big breasted couple was to be denied him. He felt flat and let down.
‘Mr. Fowler, can you kneel upright please, Rachel, can you wrap your breasts around his cock, there should be enough of your pussy juice on it to help it slip up and down, at least initially.’
‘Yes Mummy.’ Rachel did as she was asked and looked down at Gary’s penis as it appeared from and disappeared into, her deep cleavage. He could feel his foreskin flapping back and forth in the moist tunnel. She appeared to chew and let a dollop of saliva drip onto their filthy union with a giggle.
‘We are going to give Mr. Fowler just a plain, simple orgasm today Rachel,' Her mother instructed. ‘we will move on to more advanced techniques in future lessons.’
‘Yes Mummy. Is he going to cum loads?’
‘Almost certainly poppet, he did just recycle his seminal fluid. That usually promotes at least some hyper ejaculation.’ Gary must have demonstrated the beginnings of his end as Samantha gave more instructions to her daughter. ‘Now, darling I want you to observe all of his little movements and mannerisms when he shoots his load okay, honey?’
‘Yes Mummy.’ Gary, as his cock slid up and down Rachel's slimy tit crevice began to feel his spunk on its way, he gulped and his attention began to waiver.
‘Slow a little honey bun, he is about to cum.’ Gary momentarily felt as though he were cycling up hill and the top was getting further away. Suddenly it rushed toward him violently and he soared into the air like a ski jumper.
‘Ah!, Ah!, Ah!...’ he cried as Rachel giggled and Samantha gave him encouragement.
‘Oh, yes! Fucking shoot it! Shoot all of your dirty spunk over my little baby!’ His first blast grazed the young girl’s face, leaving a snail like trail, and wasting most of it’s potency on the bed clothes. The second was better directed and silenced Rachel’s giggling with a yelp, shooting up into her mouth. ’Oh, you dirty fucker!’ scolded Samantha as more of his fluid was sent into her little girl’s face. ‘Shit! Yes. Cum, Gary, fucking cum on the little slut!’
His prostrate driven spasms didn’t stop, and Rachel turned her head as more and more landed and began running from her chin. Finally, his cock began giving the outward aspect of ejaculation, but without the resultant projections of fluid, and Mrs. Barton hastily encapsulated his penis with her mouth causing his gasp to escape into the room. She emerged after extracting every drop of semen from in and around his penis.
‘All clean!’ Rachel enthused.
‘Sorry my little dumpling, Mummy simply couldn’t resist,' replied Samantha, licking her cum wetted lips.
‘Oh, that’s okay Mummy.’
After his cataclysm, Gary required some affection. It wasn’t to be.
‘Thank you Mr. Fowler you have been very useful. Say goodbye to Mr. Fowler sweetheart.’
‘Bye, Mr. Fowler.’
‘What, you want me to just…'
‘Of course, Mr. Fowler.’
Gary looked at the two naked, big titted vipers, confused and dejected. So, this was it, he was a functionary. No loving departure, no whispers of affection. He stood and gathered his clothes as the two unsatisfied females also gathered theirs and prepared to dress. ‘I, I..’ began Gary.
‘Yes, Mr. Fowler?’ Samantha enquired. He had no reply. Only when they were all dressed and Rachel had left did Samantha embrace him.
‘Oh, Gary! Thank you! Thank you so much. Oh, you were so beautiful this evening!’
‘Eh?’ He thought, this was becoming more confusing by the minute.
‘Oh, I can’t show my affection to you in front of Rachel, that wouldn’t give the right impression at all.’ They kissed long and deeply.
‘Gary, sweetness, Rachel and I have decided to go away for a few days to my Mother’s villa in the Algarve. We would be thrilled if you could join us.’ This came as a complete surprise to the already stunned young man.
‘That’s like, foreign in’t it. I ain’t got a passport now, not after leavin’ t’forces, like.’ He replied.
‘Gosh, well that’s so easy with these temporary ones you can get now isn’t it? Oh, Rachel will be so disappointed if you couldn’t join us,’ She clasped him tightly, ‘and we will have so much fun.’
It could quite honestly be said, that no single request he had ever received, had ever tempted him so much in his entire life.