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Introduction:

Part 12 - continues the story of my relationship with Jayne, my future wife.

Again, it has a long, slow build up, before any sexual content, because that is the way it was and how I want to tell it. So, if you are expecting beginning to end, dirty, perverted sex, this story is not for you. You do not have to read it. Move on.

How Part 11 ended…

…Feeling me finished, Jayne slowed and halted her motion and, with me still firmly planted inside her, collapsed forward onto my chest, kissed me like her life depended on it, then broke off and said “Yep, I definitely love you!” I did not reciprocate until much later, but I did not need to, it was correctly taken as read.

Slowly, nature did its thing, and my body diverted my blood supply back to more important organs, and my cock softened and fell out of Jayne. A few seconds later, with a panicked “Uh oh!” she got up and dashed for the bathroom, cupping her hand over herself, to prevent spillage. She returned several minutes later, looking a bit sheepish, I assumed because of her hasty, naked bathroom dash, where she could have run into Ken, as she held back my discharge. She found and put back on her knickers, but stayed bare chested, as she nestled into me. It was in that position, in silence, we drifted off to sleep.

…everything that night was peachy perfect…

Or was it? But that is another story!

Part 12 – TFMD, Vampirina.

I had never heard Barbie so voluble or foul mouthed.

“I fucking despair of you Titus,” she yelled at the top, of her voice. “I thought you had learned your lesson, but obviously fucking not. I do not think I have ever come across anyone so thoughtless and immature before. Just what the fuck do you think you were doing.”

It was the Monday after Jayne and I had first fucked, while TFMD was staying with our married friends, Barbie and Ken. It had been several months in the making. I’d met Jayne when she was on the rebound from an abusive husband, who she was in the process of divorcing, and it had taken some time before she felt comfortable with having full on, penetrative sex with me; not helped by the fact that I’d come on far too strong on our first ‘date’, nearly losing her at the outset. But we had finally got there, and she had given herself fully to me, making me cum deep within her as she rode me mercilessly, without thought for her own satisfaction, that first time I had entered her.

Barbie had gone out of her way to ambush me as I headed for my bus stop home that evening. As she laid into me, I was speechless. “Have you nothing to say for yourself?” Barbie continued, “What the fuck happens if she is pregnant? That girl has got more than enough on her plate at the moment, without that too. And you are obviously too fucking juvenile and stupid to be a father…”

Barbie continued to berate me, but by then I had zoned out and was oblivious to her words. My head was spinning as I tried to take in what was happening. Quickly though, the immediate shock of the situation started to turn to confusion, and a not insignificant amount of anger.

I tried to relive the events of Saturday night in my mind. True, I had ejaculated into Jayne, apparently unprotected, but; it was Jayne that had initiated intimacy that night. It was Jayne that had led me upstairs to her room and stripped me naked. It was Jayne that had straddled me and even when I had told her I was going to shoot my load, continued to fuck me hard until I did indeed cum in her. Why was I getting all the blame for this.

Now do not get me wrong. Yes, of course, I must bear my share of responsibility for whatever happened and may happen as a result. And no, I had not actually asked if there was a requirement for me to ‘rubber up.’ But looking back over the sequence of events, I did not think it was unreasonable for me to believe there was no need. Never once, before, during or after our coupling, was the fact that Jayne was not using some form of birth control mentioned. She, like me, was an adult, with free choice and responsibility. Was I really the total bad guy here.

But I knew there was no point in trying to argue my side of the story with Barbie. She had made up her mind that it was all on me. So, I just gritted my teeth, kept my rising temper in check, and took what she doled out. When she finally stopped, I simply asked her, “What should I do now then?”

Barbie responded, venomously, “Haven’t you fucking done enough already,” Then as an afterthought as she stormed away added, “pray she’s not pregnant!”

Obviously, I had to talk to Jayne, to find out exactly what had happened, but she was still ensconced at Ken and Barbie’s home. But there was no way I was going to stick my head in the lion's mouth that evening and risk getting it chewed off again by Barbie. I was a bit pissed off that Jayne had not come directly to me, rather than setting Barbie on me, and seethed over it on my, delayed, bus journey home (I had missed my normal bus and had to wait nearly an hour for the next one). I was going to give her a serious ear bending when I could get hold of her; and yes, you are right, I should just have had the stones to go straight to Jayne as soon as Barbie had confronted me. Perhaps Barbie was right. Perhaps I was selfish and immature.

When I finally reached town, I went straight to our local pub, where the first beer barely touched the sides. I nursed the next couple more slowly, as I mulled over the situation. As the booze mellowed me, I reconsidered my earlier pique. Of course Jayne would confide in her best friend, especially considering they were currently living under the same roof, albeit on a very temporary basis. Jayne must be worried sick at the moment and my flying off the handle at her for perceived disrespect would not help. I resolved that whatever the outcome, I would stand by Jayne, taking whatever role, she required of me, if indeed she still wanted anything to do with me.

I soon got my answer. Using Ken as a go between, I arranged to meet Jayne at the NAAFI café, after we both finished work on Wednesday. I got there first and grabbed the far corner table where, hopefully, we could talk in private. When Jayne arrived, she was all smiles and leaned in to give me a quick kiss on the lips, before sitting down opposite me. Now I was confused. According to Barbie, I was the devil incarnate, but here was Jayne greeting me as if I were flavour of the day.

I was not in the mood to play games. I came straight out and demanded from Jayne an explanation for why Barbie had, metaphorically, arse reamed me, apparently on her behalf. With a chuckle, Jayne explained that she had never intended for Barbie to go off on one like that, and that she had already taken her to task for interfering. Jayne had panicked a bit when she realised, we’d had unprotected sex and vented to Barbie. Jayne was not going to worry me until, or even if, there was a need, which she was now sure there was not, as she was in her ‘safe period,’ just before her next monthly. She had given Barbie a bollocking and told her to apologise to me next time she saw me, which she did.

That sorted, I of course wanted to know how the situation has arisen in the first place. Jayne explained that she had been on the pill throughout her marriage, so of course did not have to use anything else. However, after her separation from her husband led to temporary celibacy, she had gotten out of the habit of taking it, eventually stopping completely. When she fucked me, she just did so, without ‘using something’ out of habit. Entirely my fault she stated. I disagreed, saying I should not have just assumed she was ‘safe’ and checked with her.

Anyway, we agreed we were equally at fault. “As soon as we know I’m in the clear (she was more confident than I) I’ll go back on the pill,” she said, “until that takes effect again, we’ll use something else.” That last part was music to my ears. It indicated we were not only still an item, but also that sex was still on the cards.

Not to drag it out any longer than necessary, nature took its natural course the following week and we all breathed a collective sigh of relief. Though deep down, for the first time ever, I thought I would actually make quite a good dad. Was I perhaps a tiny bit disappointed?

Anyway, the morning after my heart-to-heart with Jayne, Ken collared me at work and told me, by way of apology, Barbie wanted to invite me to stay over at their place, with Jayne, that coming weekend. I, of course, readily accepted.

I pitched up at work on Friday, kitted out to stay until Monday morning, including the purchases of a supply run to the pharmacy, and went straight home with Ken at cease work. It was a beautiful summer’s day, and we found the ladies out in the back garden, catching the late afternoon sunshine (they finished work lunchtime on a Friday, so got home way before us.) Both wore small, tight cotton shorts, but whilst Barbie had on a t-shirt, Jayne sported a salmon pink bikini top. From the glow on her upper chest and belly, it looked as if she had overdone the sun a bit. I warned her she was burning. She had not noticed but fortunately took my advice, covered up and moved into shade, but she would feel that later.

Ken and I shed our uniforms, donned civvies, and joined the girls in the garden, grabbing a beer from the fridge en route. After a short while, Barbie rose to make a start on our evening meal, declined Jayne’s offer of help, but beckoned me to follow her into the kitchen. Straight away she dived into the promised apology for the verbal beating she had given me. I assured her it was all forgotten and went on to say I was actually very pleased that Jayne had a good friend like her, to have her back the way she did. We hugged it out for a few moments. In truth, I was still a bit pissed at her. This was the second time she had butted into our sex lives now. I was sorely tempted to tell her it was none of her business. But I knew that she and Jayne confided everything in each other, so it was pointless, and I decided not to make waves. Beside which, she was letting us fuck in their house!

When bedtime came around, there was no pretence. Jayne and I went upstairs together, to complete our bathroom routines, to leave it free for the other couple once they had locked up for the night. As we stripped off for bed, it became apparent just how sunburned Jayne actually was. Once naked, her chest, belly and upper thighs glowed bright pink, a stark contrast to the pale whiteness of her tits and groin area. For some reason, this also seemed to make her rigid nipples and thick black bush even more prominent too, causing my cock to grow hard in anticipation.

But when I reached out to caress Jayne, she flinched away. Not surprising really, I could feel the heat radiating from her skin as soon as I got close to her. It became obvious there would be no screwing that night, it would be agony for Jayne, even if we went from the back.

Waddling, like a penguin, to keep her thighs from chafing together, Jayne went to her bag, retrieved a bottle of baby lotion, and returned to lay down on her back on the bed. She handed me the bottle and instructed me to rub it onto her. “CAREFULLY!,” she exclaimed. Uncapping the bottle, I squirted a good dollop of the lotion onto her glowing belly. Jayne shrieked loudly, “FUCKING HELL, THAT’S COLD!” (She is not given to using obscenities usually, so it really must have been). “Warm it in your hands first,” she continued, at a much lower level. I could hear Barbie and Ken giggling at us from the next room. God only knows what they thought was going on.

Doing as I was told, I smothered my hands in lotion, knelt on the bed at her side, and very, very gently, started to work it into Jayne’s ‘pink bits.’ At first there was quite a bit of whincing and shuddering to my touch, but as the lotion started to soothe away the discomfort, this got less and less.

As you would expect, as I performed my duty, I could not help but feast my eyes on Jayne’s bare breasts and vulva. As I said before, the pure whiteness against the sun pinked areas made them stand out more than usual. Glancing at Jayne’s face, I saw her eyes were tight closed, as she soaked up the cooling effect of the lotion. Chancing my luck, with the next handfuls of lotion, I planted my hands directly on her firm tits, feeling the nipples in my palms. Without opening her eyes, Jayne exclaimed “THEY…are not burned!” but made no move to stop me.

Emboldened, I started to rub in a circular motion, teasing her nips, making them harden like unripe cherries. Jayne started to wriggle and coo gently to my touch, so I went further, rolling them between my thumbs and forefingers, and tugged gently, until those slippery little buds plopped from my grip, eliciting louder groans.

Safe now in the knowledge that she was up for some sort of sex play, I rapidly lost my underpants, freeing my rigid cock, and reloaded my hands with more lotion. Jayne saw this, and hurriedly covered her breasts with her own hands, in mock defiance to my ministrations. Unfortunately for her, this left my actual target fully exposed to attack. I quickly spread the contents of my palms onto her bush and outer vaginal lips, bringing about fits of laughter from her.

Not to be outdone, Jayne grabbed the lotion bottle and applied a lavish coating to my own genitals. Now we were talking. In unison, we started to masturbate each other. Jayne slowly wanking my cock, as she spread her thighs to give me access to her inner sanctum. Careful not to irritate her sore thighs, I ran my greasy fingers along the outside of her lips, before parting the hair hiding her cleft and working my way inside. The slick lubrication of the baby lotion, was soon joined by her own natural wetness, allowing me to penetrate her opening and tease her G-spot with ease, causing a sharp intake of breath. Using my other hand, I started my customary circular stimulation of her hooded clitoris, relaxing that breath with a loud, satisfying groan.

As my hands worked on Jayne, hers worked on me. The lotion she had applied, allowed her to stimulate the glans of my cock. Usually, I find this sort of direct contact on my bellend too harsh, but the added lubricant provided by the lotion made it feel just incredible. It felt like I was having one, nonstop orgasm, without actually spilling my seed.

As we both continued our individual efforts to bring the other to climax, it was touch and go who would succumb first. On this occasion it was me. Jayne always has been a master at giving a handjob, and that one was particularly spectacular. I held back and held back as long as humanly possible before warning Jayne I could hold back no longer. Grunting something unintelligible at me as she approached her own orgasm, she directed my cock towards herself and increased her stroking to warp speed. That was it. I burst, shooting multiple spurts of my semen all over her poor sunburnt belly and her crotch.

When Jayne started imploring me to “Keep going, keep going, I’m almost there,” I realised in my moment of release, I had stopped my manipulation of her trigger points. I frantically resumed plugging my fingers in and out of her soaking wet vagina. At the same time, on pure instinct, I lowered my mouth to her mound, and sucked hard on her swollen clitoris, also flicking it with my tongue, tasting both her moisture and my own spilled spunk.

In combination, all these actions did the trick. With a cry of “GURRUMPF” (whatever that means), Jayne climaxed explosively. Her whole body convulsed, and her vaginal muscles clamped down, almost painfully, on my fingers, which were still embedded deep inside of her. It seemed like hours before she relaxed enough for me to withdraw, but was obviously only a minute or two, at most. As I flopped down beside Jayne, I was a little surprised to see her massaging my cum into her skin, like a salve. I believe it is a fallacy that semen is good for the skin, but if it helped ease her soreness, good luck to her.

Much as we both wanted to continue and make love that night, we agreed it would not be sensible to cause unnecessary pain and discomfort to Jayne, just to satisfy our carnal lust. In truth, I was pretty damned satisfied already from the sensational wank she had just given me, and Jayne confessed she too had cum really hard. So, after another quick pee stop, we settled down for the night. As she drifted away, I kissed the nape of her neck and whispered in her ear, “Jayne, I love you!”

She did not say anything, but the beaming smile on her face confirmed she had heard me; and we were soon both sound asleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I was alone in the bed. I hurriedly threw on some clothes, made a quick pit stop, then headed downstairs. There I found Jayne and Barbie, sat in their robes, mugs of coffee in hand, deep in conversation. Both smirked up at me. That sort of sly, smug smirk that makes you want to check your pockets to see if your wallet is still there. Then both of them broke into fits of giggling.

Why the frivolity, I did not know, especially as we were not yet entirely out of the woods, potential pregnancy wise. But I guess it was better than moping around, worrying. No doubt they were actually analysing each other’s sexual experiences from the previous night, as usual. Hopefully, the smirk meant I did okay.

Jayne stood, gave me a sloppy kiss, and headed for the kitchen to fetch me a coffee, while Barbie told me what we had decided to do that day (I did not remember being part of that decision making process, but so be it). After breakfast, assuming she could prize Ken out of bed that early on a Saturday morning, we were catching the bus to the local city centre for a shopping trip (oh, deep joy). When Jayne returned, I asked how her sunburn was. Still a bit tender, but much, much better than last night, “Thanks to the lotion,” she added. Barbie nearly spit her coffee out all over the floor.

Actually, it was not a bad day. I am not a great lover of shopping, but credit to the girls, they let Ken and I browse the record and tech stores, as much as they hit the Boots cosmetics counter and boutiques. We had a great pub lunch, after which Ken and I were ‘ordered’ to stay put and have another pint, while they went to do some ‘private shopping.’ Two pints later they returned, giggling like a pair of schoolgirls. They had found the newly opened Ann Summers store, and both sported a bag bearing that brand name and logo. What was in them? “You’ll have to wait and see.” My cock did a flip at the thought.

The afternoon passed pleasantly, doing nothing in particular. It was just nice to be out in good company, sharing the craic. About 6pm, we grabbed a bus home, stopping short of the base to visit the village store to replenish supplies (‘Lager for the men and a fruit-based beverage for the ladies’, to paraphrase a popular British Comedian), and to grab a chippy tea, before walking the last mile or so home.

After we ate, we sat chatting, each couple cuddling close until nearly midnight. Almost as if they were connected telepathically, the girls rose together and headed for the door, beseeching us to “Give us 15-minutes, then come up to our rooms.”

“I guess it’s Ann Summers time,” said Ken. I had had much the same thought or was it the same hope. Knowing for certain that Barbie and Ken were going to have sex, in the room next to us felt a bit strange. And the look on Ken’s face told me he had similar feelings. But let us be honest, neither of us were going to let that get in the way of what was about to happen. And before you jump to that conclusion, NO, we never did any swapping or swinging, at any time.

Parting on the landing, we shared a brief handshake and a silent ‘good luck mate’ and opened the bedroom doors to join our respective partners. Inside, the room was bathed in a dull, reddish hue, much duller than usual. Glancing at the bedside lamp, I noted Jayne had draped a lacy red scarf over the shade, to further shield the white light. The OCD in me immediately went to ‘fire hazard,’ but I forced that thought back down, and turned my attention to the stunning woman within.

Jayne lay on the bed, on top of the counter pane, flat on her back, at attention, with her arms crossed across her chest. Her attire made her look like a female vampire, waiting for the sun to set. It gave me chills.

Jayne was wearing a sheer, full length, white night gown. The bodice clung snuggly beneath her breasts, lifting them slightly, making them appear bigger than the B-cup they really were. Small or not, they were beautiful to me, especially now as they peered, tantalising, at me through the thin top of her nightie. Further down, both sides of the garment were slashed to hip level, though Jayne had arranged it carefully over the full length of her legs. Beneath it, matching white panties encased her bum and vulva. The two layers of material were just thin enough to allow the dark shadow of her dense, black bush to be seen, inviting and teasing. Pure lust? Maybe. But I had never seen Jayne looking so voluptuous and desirable. For one, brief perverted moment, I could not help but ask myself, did Barbie look this good too, in her new purchases. Bad Titus. BAD Titus!

Turning her head towards me, Jayne lifted one arm and beckoned me towards her, before resuming her pose. I closed in on the bed, stripping off my clothes as I went, until I was down to just my skivvies, and collecting the pack of Durex from my bag. I held these up, so Jayne saw them, and she nodded acknowledgment and silently mouthed a thank you.

Carrying the ‘vampire fantasy,’ if that is what it was, through, I advanced on Jayne, knelt beside her, and sank my teeth, gently, into her bare neck. This caused her to break character and guffaw with laughter, but she enveloped me in her arms and drew me in for a long, sensuous mouth-to-mouth kiss.

As we explored each other’s mouths, Jayne casually manoeuvred me around and pressed me down onto my back. Breaking away from my lips, she started to lick and kiss down my neck, chest, and belly, until she reached the top of my pants. Hooking her fingers in the waistband, she roughly snatched them off, momentarily catching my stiffness, pulling it down at an unnatural angle, making me yelp. “Oh, poor little thing,” she cooed, and planted a sloppy kiss full on the head of my cock, to make it better. Little thing? That hurt more than the bent dick!

Jayne consolidated her oral contact with me, by taking my cock head into her warm, wet mouth, using her lips to peel back my foreskin, exposing my sensitive tip to her tongue, which she proceeded to use to lick my frenulum, each time her bobbing head reached to top of its stroke. Jayne did not blow me as much as I would like, but when she did…WOW!

For someone who did not really like giving head, Jayne really had a flair for it, that made me shudder and shake constantly, as she sucked, slobbered and lick at my cock. It only took a short time before I could feel my climax rapidly approaching and warned Jayne, I was really close.

She wouldn’t let me cum in her mouth (I’d done so once, accidentally, and got a severe bollocking for it), so when I gave her the agreed signal, two pats on the top of her head, she took my cock out of her mouth, but still licking my shaft, frantically stroked me with her hand to finish me off. I ejaculated copiously, hitting Jayne in the face and hair; another thing she hated, but on this occasion, she let it go without comment, simply wiping it off with her towel, before laying back down beside me.

I had not touched Jayne yet, but her arousal was obvious. Even through the lingering sunburn, the sex flush on her neck and chest signalled her need. After taking a short break to regather my senses, I moved to go down on her, to return the favour she had just given me. But Jayne stopped me. “No, not that, she gasped, “I need you in me, right now!” Uh oh…that concerned me a bit. I am not normally given to ‘follow on’ erections and was worried I could not rise to the occasion so quickly. But Jayne’s urgency to be fucked triggered something in me, and with a little help from her I soon sported a more than satisfactory boner.

Remembering the need for barrier protection, I rubbered up, getting even harder as I did, from the sight of Jayne gently rubbing her vulva, with her hand, through the now wet, white knickers. I announced I was ready and leaned over to undress her for action. But again, she prevented me doing so. She wanted to stay encased in the Ann Summers lingerie as we fucked it seemed.

For a moment, Jayne confused the fuck out of me, rolling over onto her side, turning her back to me. But I got the message when she raised her upper leg and pulled the crotch of her knickers to one side, exposing her swollen labia and vaginal mouth, all ready for action. I sidled up behind Jayne and, sheathed cock in hand, fumbled to enter her, in doing so rubbing my cock head against her sensitive parts, feeling their warmth and slickness, even through the Durex. “No playing, put it in, now,” said Jayne.

I was not intentionally ‘playing,’ but it did feel good, though I was struggling to penetrate her opening. But by lifting her upper leg higher, I managed to gain inroads and with a few gentle strokes, sunk fully home. Once in, lowering Jayne’s legs together anchored me firmly in place.

One great advantage of the ‘follow on’ was that I had almost indefinite control over my next orgasm now, so was able to give Jayne exactly what she wanted. Starting slowly and using the full length of my penis, I made slow, passionate love to her. Needing something to do with my hands, but conscious of the need to avoid any areas that may still be sun sore, I had no choice but to go for her ‘white bits.’ This meant I must fondle her milky white tits, tweaking and tugging on her turgid nipples; well, that is my excuse. My other hand worked its way into the front of her silky knickers, where I gently tweaked her damp pubic hair, before drawing her wetness up to lubricate her clitoris, which I stroked in time to my penile rhythm.

The triple action of my cock and hands was apparently working its magic, as Jayne became more and more animated. Meeting my thrusts with a backward motion of her hips, as we gradually increased the tempo. I do not know about you, but I always feel a great sense of relief when I give a woman an orgasm during intercourse. Especially when it is really love making, rather than just animal fucking; not that the later is a bad thing.

Jayne announced her impending climax, just before I felt the familiar contractions of her vaginal muscles around my cock, and the shuddering of her limbs, as she rode the pleasure she was feeling. I slowed my pace, allowing her to finish her cum, but kept on slowly stroking. When Jayne had come down enough to realise I was still going, she immediately rang the changes.

Barely missing a stroke, Jayne pulled away from me, pushed me to my back, whipped her knickers off, straddled me, and slipped my cock back into her sopping hole. Then in this new position, she began to ride me hell for leather. It all happened so fast, there was no time for me to lose any of my hardness, so Jayne took advantage of this and frantically started to work herself towards another orgasm, which she achieved in short order; two for two, we were on a roll.

My turn to pick the pose now. Without disconnecting, I rolled Jayne over and bought her to the edge of the bed, so I could stand between her legs, and not have to put any weight on her still tender skin. I quickly reestablished a comfortable tempo, with Jayne grunting and mewling beneath me. It was at that point I noticed her clitoris was open to my touch. Could I possibly get her to an unprecedented, for me at least, third climax. I had to try, at least.

Trying hard not to change my rhythm, I reached down and placed the fingers of my right hand on Jayne’s pubic mound, directly on her spongey damp bush. This allowed me to use my thumb to gently stroke her clit through its fleshy hood, occasionally making direct contact with the bud itself, sending shudders through her body, and bringing little groans to her lips.

We had been going for some time now and I was beginning to tire, so it was time to bring things to a conclusion, whatever the result. I had been holding my loins tense, to delay my ‘second cuming,’ but now relaxed to allow nature to take its course. I also picked up the pace of my thrusting, and ‘thumbing’ hoping I could keep it up for long enough.

Having decided I had held back long enough; it only took a few more minutes for me to reach the point of release. Just before I was about to let go, I felt Jayne’s body stiffen under me, as she reached her hat trick. It was not as powerful as the first two, but signalled that I could, with a clear conscience, finish, which I did just a few moments later, depositing my sample safely into the rubber, which thank goodness had survived the session intact.

To say we were both absolutely spent, would be a massive understatement, to say the least. It was some time before we were able to crawl up the bed and lay our heads on the pillows. Her knickers had disappeared earlier, but Jayne was still fully covered by the nightgown. I say covered; it was so sheer her assets were fully visible through the cloth. But that surely was the object of the exercise, which I am certain had added much to the success of our coupling. I needed a piss but was too knackered to get up and go to the bathroom right then. It would have to wait until I woke briefly in the early hours later.

I pulled the bed covers up over us, as Jayne snuggled into me, head on my chest and one leg draped over mine. We simultaneously looked into each other’s eyes and leaned in to exchange a meaningful kiss. When we broke, I felt an overwhelming sense of contentment wash over me and without conscious thought said aloud, “I love you Jayne.” It might have been an instinctive reaction to the post coital euphoria but was no less genuine for it. Jayne acknowledged me with a squeeze of the hand but was already drifting off into slumber.

It was me that was up first the following morning. When, an hour later, there was still no sign of Jayne, I took a mug of coffee up to her. She was awake, but still in bed. She smiled broadly at me and beckoned me over for a good morning kiss, though she was looking a bit ‘out of sorts’. She told me she was feeling the tension and mild stomach cramps that usually heralded the start of her period in the next few days. Mixed feelings. I felt bad for her, that she was in discomfort, but a bit relieved that if she did start, it would mean the end of our pregnancy scare, which, as I have already stated, it was.

I think, for different reasons, we were all feeling a bit sapped of strength that Sunday, so we just had a lazy day. Ken and I took our turn at cooking the meal that evening, and we all had an early bedtime. There was no sex that night. At least not for Jayne and I, I cannot speak for the homeowners. Us two just sat in bed, cuddled together, and talked quietly. Jayne said her lawyer had confirmed the divorce papers had been served on her estranged husband, the reason she was seeking sanctuary at Barbie and Ken’s, in case he reacted badly, possibly violently again. But there had been no word. She would give it one more week, and there was still nothing, she would return to her place. That on its own was a bit depressing for her, as it was a cramped little one room bedsit, in a shared house. I had only seen it once so far and would hate to have to return there.

We also talked about us. Our journey so far. Our current situation; and a future. It had recently dawned on Jayne that I was only in my current location on a training course, which I would complete in about four months’ time, then I would be off again. It would most likely be a UK posting but could be to anywhere in the World. (We would up stick and move home thirteen times over the next 25-years, as I was moved from post to post, until I eventually retired from the service.)

Although we had only been together for around four months at that point, it was clear there was a strong bond between us. We’d both expressed our love for each other. I for one meant it and was confident Jayne did too. It would likely be many, many months yet before her divorce was finalised, so our options were limited. In for a penny, though Telling her I did not need an immediate decision, that she should think about it carefully, I asked her to consider moving with me when the time came. Without hesitation, she hugged me tighter and said, “Of course I will. There is nothing left here for me anymore. My life is with you now if you will have me.” (not 100% true, her parents lived locally, and it would mean moving away from them).

I harboured a slight nagging feeling, that this could just be a rebound affair for Jayne. That one she was fully divorced, she would realise she had jumped from one marriage, straight into another relationship, without having time to reset properly. That she would soon get fed up with me and hanker to ‘play the field’ a little, in search of a more desirable partner. Obviously, five decades later, that fear has been proved unfounded.

Jayne actually ended up staying one further week with Barbie and Ken, three weeks in total, before we moved her back to her own room. The depression at doing so was apparent in her. The plus side was that we were back living closer together, allowing us to see more of each other. As before, Jayne spent most evenings at my flat, though as I shared a bedroom with flatmate Stewart, it was only on the odd occasions she could sleep over.

I was now also a regular visitor to Jayne’s bedsit, where we could of course make love in private. But the landlords' rules did not allow ‘overnight visitors’. I doubted the legality of that, and it would become an issue at a later date, but more on that later. Fortunately though, they spent most weekends away at their holiday home, so we, and the other tenants flouted that rule with impunity.

The male householder was a slimy, pervy git, the epitome of the ‘Rigsby’ character from the TV show, Rising Damp. The three bedsits he rented out, were all let to single women. We all knew for a fact that he came into their rooms whilst they were out and rummaged through their belongings, but we would not be able to prove it, on a legal level. It was sickening to think what he actually did in there, when alone. Before I came on the scene, one girl had confronted him with her suspicions and been summarily evicted. I could never decide whether it was a good or bad thing that she had not taken action, as it was undoubtedly an illegal eviction. If only we had ‘nannycams’ back then.

One evening, a couple of months after Jayne returned home, we were lounging in her room, naked and playing, as was often the case. I cannot remember for certain what we had done so far but will never forget what followed. When we were ready to fuck, I reached for the bedside table, where we kept a supply of condoms. To my delight, Jayne, stopped me “No need any longer,” she said. She had followed through on her decision to restart using the oral contraceptive pill and had now given it enough time to take full effect.

I have no great hatred of using rubbers, but as I have said in a previous part, I do not care what anyone says, you CAN feel the difference. Impatient to feel that difference, I hurriedly lay Jayne down and parted her knees to get at her. I guess she was as keen as me, as her hair rimmed outer lips were swollen and parted, and her interior was glistening with her own excitement. I grasped my cock and rubbed the bulbous head along Jayne’s cleft, picking up her lubricant and spreading it over myself, to ease penetration.

Jayne’s hands pulled urgently on my bum cheeks, telling me she was ready to receive me. I nestled my glans at her entrance, and applied a slight forward pressure with my hips, feeling myself sliding easily into Jayne’s welcoming vagina. Yes, we had fucked bareback on that first occasion, but the subsequent trauma had made me forget how heavenly being ‘naked’ inside her was. I assumed the exclamation of “Oh yes, that’s much better,” from Jayne, meant that she approved of the skin-to-skin contact too.

I am not going to lie. As soon as I felt the warm, wet, tight vaginal muscles gripping my bare cock, I knew I would not last long…and I did not. I tried to hold back and told Jayne to slow down and let me ‘acclimatise’ for a few moments. But on ‘special occasions, she is such a giving lover. Rather than backing off, she started to buck her pelvis up at me harder and faster, overriding any hope I had of delaying to bring her off too.

I gave up trying. Jayne was determined to make me cum as quickly as possible for some reason. So why fight it. I started to match her motion, by thrusting back as she rocked towards me. The smirk on Jayne’s face told me she wanted me to cum in her, and soon, and I did, hard and copiously. I said nothing and carried on pumping in and out of her, but Jayne exclaimed, “Oh yes…I can feel it spurting inside me…good, so, so good.”

Now call me dense by all means, but I did not know that was a thing; That a woman could actually feel a guy ejaculate inside her or, of course, that it meant so much to them to do so. When I mentioned this to Jayne later, I got her standard ‘men are so stupid and you’re the stupidest of the stupid’ look. I probably deserved that. Oh well, you live and learn.

My time in advanced training was rapidly coming to an end. We were told we had passed the course, meaning my promotion was now guaranteed. A few of the original starters had fallen by the wayside, failing various aspects of the training. All would get another chance, on a later intake, and to the best of my knowledge all were successful second time around. All that remained was for us each to complete a final section of ‘pre-employment training’ which covered the specifics of our next posting.

I was earmarked to spend three weeks on a PET course in Berlin. It was on a unique type of system, meaning that would be where my next post would be too. Now normally I would have been overjoyed at that prospect, but it could not have happened at a worse time. It would be impossible for Jayne to follow me there. ‘Living out’ was not permitted in Berlin, and Jayne and I, being unmarried, were not entitled to on base housing (unlike now). We were screwed, not for the last time, by the restrictions of armed forces life.

I talked openly about my dilemma with my course mates. Several were quite envious of my allocation, themselves only receiving various UK based roles. Much as I wanted Berlin, I had made a commitment to Jayne which I could not, no did not want to, break. After confirming it was possible with the admin authorities, I offered to exchange my Germany position for one of the UK posts. There were two takers. Neither was an ideal location for me, and both were not regarded as ‘popular roles’. But at that point in time, securing a ‘plum job’ was the least of my concerns. I was head over heels in love with Jayne. I had been here before and lost the women concerned because of enforced separation. I was not prepared to do so again. Jayne was so important to me, that if necessary, I would have exercised my right to early discharge to stay with her.

It was not necessary though. I agreed a swap for, what I considered, was the best of the two offers on the table. Either would mean long journeys back to see Jayne, until we could find a flat of our own. But even that hurdle was unexpectedly overcome.

Now I did not have to travel to my PET training in Berlin, the last few weeks were spent there at the training school. My roomies and I had to give up our flat, the tenancy was up as planned, and we had to settle for ‘transit accommodation’ a very basic temporary living space, until we moved on. This put the brakes firmly on our sex life. I mentioned earlier that I was banned from having sleepovers at Jayne’s place, by her morally corrupt landlord, who we had christened ‘Rigsby’. Perhaps it was because we knew, or at least hoped, that she would not be there much longer, we had started to push the boundaries a bit. On a number of occasions this meant I had, Quote: ACCIDENTALLY: Unquote, fallen asleep there, waking at the crack of dawn, to leave before the rest of the house stirred.

We seemed to have got away with it, but got blasé. In my final week, after a late night out, Jayne tried to sneak me in for sex, but Rigsby was waiting up for us. We had not been as undetected as we believed, and he had just bided his time to catch us red handed. We tried to bluff it out, but he was not having it, and started having a real go at Jayne, questioning her morals, calling her a slut and the like. I was not having that. Hands up, I did lose my temper with him, but did not, as he claimed later, threaten him. I told him a few home truths. That we knew of his intrusions into his tenants' personal lives, that he had been guilty of an unjust eviction and that some of his ‘rules’ were illegal (confirmed by the solicitor handling Jayne’s divorce when we casually inquired during a routine meeting.)

He would not have it though. He was stood in the doorway, blocking our access, well mine at least, and short of physically barging him aside, there was nothing I could do right then, so I had to concede and leave. But I was worried about Jayne and possible repercussions. So, I was back there early the following day (fortunately a Saturday). Luckily I did not have to confront him straight away, as I was let in by one of the other tenants. But shortly after I arrived there was a knock on Jayne’s room door.

I steeled myself to do battle with Rigsby again but was determined not to lose my cool this time. But to our surprise, when we opened the door, there stood a young police constable. Rigsby has set the cops on us. PC Plod said they had received a complaint, and he had already spoken to the landlord and now wanted our side of the story, which we gave him. The copper said Rigsby had claimed I had threatened him the previous night. I admitted I had lost my rag a bit, but in no way had I made any threats, physical or otherwise, which Jayne bore witness to, if that meant anything, as she was part of the argument.

The PC then asked if, as accused, we had knowingly broken any of Rigsby’s tenancy rules. No point lying. We admitted we had had ‘sleepovers,’ against his wishes, but that we had previously taken legal advice (stretching the truth a little there), and that he was not legally allowed to enforce such a rule. The police officer agreed that was the case, so long as Jayne had a legal tenancy, with a rent book, which she did, she was free to have whoever she wanted in her apartment, whenever she wanted, day or night.

Although he could not admit it, I could tell the constable was just going through the motions, as was required of him, that it was a malicious complaint, probably with the aim of scaring Jayne into submission (it had certainly scared her). He said he would speak again to Rigsby before he left, advise him of what was just confirmed with us, and suggest he take his own legal advice regarding his rights as a landlord, and those of his tenants. Although it would seem ‘we’ were in the right, I was still very concerned that there would be repercussions and was afraid that Jayne would suffer for it after I was posted. A solution to that fear unexpectedly came later that day.

The following week would be the graduation ceremony, marking the formal end of our course and our promotions. We were allowed to invite a number of guests to attend the event, to support us. In addition to Jayne, I had asked my parents if they wished to attend, and they had accepted the offer. They had decided to make a short break out of it and were driving here later that day and staying in a local hotel until the graduation, the following Wednesday. Indeed, Jayne and I were due to join them for a meal that evening and a day out ‘sightseeing’ the following day.

They had already met Jayne, we had visited them a couple of times over the past few months, and they liked her. They were really pleased when I told them we were going to stay a couple and live together at my next duty station (Mum admitted she would have preferred we got married, but that is Mums the world over for you I guess.)

We met with my olds, as arranged. Shared hugs and kisses all around, and enjoyed a wonderful meal, while we caught up on each others news and gossip. Inevitably the events of the previous night and that morning came up. Much to the amusement of my father and the disgust of Mum. When, later, the ladies went for a pit stop, Dad quizzed me further on what happened, and I gave him the full, unabridged story. I also shared my concern over the possible backlash Jayne faced, given Rigsby’s character and history. He agreed I was right to be worried and mysteriously said to “Leave it with me.”

The following morning, I caught the bus into town and Jayne’s gaff, from where my parents picked us up in their car. We drove through the countryside, for about an hour, to a popular ‘picturesque’ village my olds had always wanted to visit. We spent a very pleasant couple of hours exploring the cobbled streets and knickknack shops, before finding a hostelry for a pub lunch.

Food finished, my dad put on his serious face and announced “Right. Your mum and I have been talking….” Basically, they, like me, were concerned about Jayne’s ongoing safety and comfort (They had actually seen her bedsit on a previous visit and were not impressed then either.) They were happy to offer Jayne a roof over her head, until such time as we sorted out our own place. They had a spare room, my elder sister was long since married and flown the coup and my younger brother, whether he liked it or not, would move into the small, third bedroom. Apparently, he was hardly there these days anyway, being either out at college or staying over at his own girlfriend's place. This meant “we” could have the larger back bedroom as “ours.”

I glanced at Jayne. She was nodding her head furiously. She was terrified she would go ‘home’ one day and find her stuff in the front yard, after our ‘disagreement’ with the landlord. This option would provide a safe haven for her. As an added bonus, it would be much, much easier for me to get there, for my off-duty days, than to our current location. Win, win. The only downside was she would have to quit her job. But dad was confident there were plenty of job opportunities in their locality, where she could find something to tie her over temporarily, until she moved in with me.

It was settled that quickly. Dad would borrow a friend’s van that next weekend and move Jayne. I would be at my new duty base by then but would come to them as soon as possible thereafter. I was actually quite surprised that Mum and Dad were being so relaxed about this. By offering “us” a room together, they were obviously accepting of the fact that we would be having a sexual relationship under their roof. They, particularly my mum, used to be quite old fashioned in that respect. They had also seemed quite easy that my brother was apparently fucking his girl regularly too. They had obviously mellowed with age.

Graduation day came. Wearing our dress uniforms, pressed and polished to the extreme, we were presented with our diplomas and shiny new stripes, and posed for the obligatory ‘grinning grip’ photograph with the presenting staff officer. Graduates and guests then enjoyed a complimentary buffet lunch and bar, to round off the ceremony. Straight after the event ended, the olds said their goodbyes, arranged to meet Jayne for the move that weekend, and headed for home, to evict my poor brother from his room.

The following day I would need to travel to my new base. That meant Jayne and I had one more night together for an unspecified period of time, until I knew my new duty schedule, I had no idea, it could be many weeks, even months if those duties included an out of area deployment. Once I had changed and finished packing my kit, I told Jayne we should go to her place, and fuck what Rigsby thought. There was nothing to lose now. Another surprise. “No need,” said Jayne “I have booked us into the hotel you parents were at, for tonight. I want your body.”

It was to be a night of two halves. It started with long, slow, and passionate. We had reached a pivotal moment in our relationship. We were moving on from the months of erratic, grab sex where and when you can, towards a true life as a couple, with a shared abode, albeit temporary to start with. We were in love, had made the strongest commitment to each other that we could, at that moment in time. Alone in that big, comfortable bed, it felt as if we had all the time in the world, and when we joined, as man and woman, we showed each other our feelings through beautiful love making: Long sensuous foreplay, gentle penetration and hours of penis in vagina stimulation, until we finally hit gold, and orgasmed virtually simultaneously, before falling into a deep sleep, still coupled.

Then, when we woke in the morning, still naked in each other’s arms, the realisation that this would be our last opportunity for a while hit, so we frantically set about trying to fit a quart into a pint pot. Jayne grasped my flaccid member and fondled it firmly until it too woke from its slumber and rose to the occasion. Once I was fully hard, she wasted no time and kneeled astride my chest and took me deep into her mouth, at the same time presenting me with her fanny, so I could join her in oral play.

As she licked and sucked on my rigid cock, I performed reciprocal actions on her vulva. We giggled like a pair of teenagers, as we waged and unspoken contest to see who could make the other cum first. Jayne frantically bobbed her head up and down, her lips sealed on the top of my cock, whilst furiously rubbing its base with a free hand. I, in turn, sucked nibbled and licked on her puffy labia and clitoris.

Soon, I could feel myself nearing release, so doubled down my efforts to be the winner. Plunging two fingers into her dripping vagina, I rubbed on her G-spot and started blowing raspberries and ‘humming’ on her clit, as if I were playing a bugle. I had read about this technique but never tried it before and it worked a treat, sealing my win, as Jayne climaxed, with a long, loud expulsion of breath.

My victory was, however, by the smallest of margins. Jayne had managed to keep going at my cock through her orgasm, and almost as if a switch had been thrown, I could no longer hold back, and shot my bolt without warning Jayne, straight into her mouth. I at once readied myself for the expected bollocking, but uniquely on that occasion, she said nothing. In fact, she continued to suck and lick at me, eking every drop of my cum from my cock and I am sure, for the first and last time ever, swallowing it hungrily.

As we took a breather, we laughed together at the absurdity of our ‘contest’ but agreed to call it a draw. Jayne was not finished with me yet though. As soon as she had regained her composure, she again started to tease my cock back to life, something that does not always work with me, but she was determined, and by adding a bit more oral stimulation, succeeded in short order.

Not willing to risk wasting what she had achieved, Jayne at once straddled me and fed my revived dick into her, with a loud groan of satisfaction. I just let her get on with it, setting her own pace. When she got into a rhythm, I simply matched her motions, thrusting up to meet the bottom of her stroke, penetrating her deeper than I thought possible. The tip of my cock was hitting something inside at each stroke, making her yelp and groan at each touch, driving her faster and faster towards another blessed release. It did not take much longer until she was growling and shuddering in orgasm once more, collapsing forward onto my chest.

I would have been quite content with just the early morning blow job, but having been bought back to life again, I too needed more myself now. When Jayne’s breathing returned to normal, I slapped her playfully on the arse and told her, “Go doggie for me.” Her immediate response was to ‘woof and bark’ at me, but she climbed off me and assumed the position, on hands and knees, at the edge of the bed, as I gently stroked my cock to maintain my erection, as if afraid I would lose it. When Jayne was comfortably in place, I moved behind her, parted her with my fingers, and slid my dick straight back in. Then, grasping her hips firmly, proceeded to pound her hard from behind. The different sensations of rear entry always bought me off quickly, and this time was no exception. After only a few more minutes thrusting I boiled over and released what semen I had left into Jayne’s vagina. We were both now sexually replete, and just spent the next hour, flopped on the bed recovering, gently stroking an caressing each other, our morning session complete.

All to soon, it was time for me to head back to base, to grab my gear, and catch transport for my journey to my new unit. We showered (alone or we would have got nowhere), dressed and grabbed a quick breakfast and a taxi back to Jayne’s place. She was supposed to be working her notice at her job. But had already missed yesterday for my pass out and had decided to ‘bunk off’ the rest of it and sacrifice the weeks wages instead.

When we could leave it no longer, I had to leave. Jayne started sobbing. It was not only our parting upsetting her, but she also really did not want to stay in that flat alone a moment longer. At that stage, the only real thing I could do was to offer to pay for her to return to the hotel, or find a guest house, for her last three nights. But after a few minutes considering it, and talking it through, she accepted that was impractical. She needed to be there to pack her own stuff ready for the move at the weekend. She would brave it out, keep her head down, her door locked and a heavy object beside her bed!

With a final embrace and kiss, I turned and left the flat, hearing the door close and the lock turn behind me. I had ‘been here’ several times previously, and it had always ended in heartbreak. This time it would be different. This time I would ‘get the girl,’ for keeps.

I will perhaps tell you about it if I am spared a bit longer!

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