Going down under by Janon314Two,Janon314Two

Blacksheep returns from Oz to UK for family event

This is not a short story as it develops characters and backstory. As always, I look for proofreaders for my stories to make sure they meet the quality this site deserves.

Going down under

I looked out of the plane’s windows to see a rain soaked Heathrow coming into view. I let out a sigh and muttered, ‘Ah, blighty.’

The woman next to me looked over and then up at me. I tried an ingratiating smile, but that hadn’t worked when we stepped on to the plane in Melbourne. Perhaps I’d lost my touch with the Sheila’s. Nope, women, I corrected myself. Just because I’d been in Oz for 15 years didn’t make me entirely forget my British heritage.

I’m Bruce, by the way, well actually, it’s Byron Bruce Baker, and so you can understand why I go by Bruce. Byron doesn’t really fly when you’re working in the outback. I’m coming home for my parent’s 40th wedding anniversary, to catch up with a few friends and have a little fun. But fun was one reason I left the UK in the first place.

I was the black sheep of the family back when I was a kid. Ran with the wrong crowd, was into fast bikes, faster women and occasionally drugs. Not a lot, but enough to give me a brush in with the law a couple of times. Fortunately, I was young and came from a good home and cleaned up good for my court appearances.

I got off lightly, but my dad made it clear any more trouble and I’d be out of the family forever. I might not have listened, but I had a nasty motorcycle crash and nearly died. Both my lower legs were pinned back together with so much metal I still can’t go through an airport metal detector without a fuss.

Although it’s funny to see how awkward they get when they see the scars. I’ve sometimes idly wondered if I could smuggle something because of that reaction, but I’m not into that anymore.

It was pleasant to head through the short lines for UK passport holders, and have the guy at the desk welcome me home. Was it my home anymore? I’m certainly not the man I was when I left.

After grabbing my oversized backpack from the carousel and heading to find a train into London. Sitting on the train looking at the rain and rapidly dimming light, I looked down and noticed my wedding ring and felt annoyed with myself. I pulled it off and tucked it into my pocket. That had been a mistake, and I knew it at the time.

I flexed my hand to see the slight indentation from the ring and noticed the scars again. It was weird how you forgot they were there. Like my legs, they had pinned my bones together in my left hand. I’d lost the tip of my little finger and it was still bent and didn’t have full movement. The surgeon had suggested he remove the finger entirely, but my parents refused. I chuckled as I remembered getting the dotted line tattoo around the first knuckle with ‘cut here’ next to it.

I got off at Paddington and grimaced at the weather, saw a poor sod of a beggar. Or a street person or whatever the fuck you want to label them. He was wet and miserable, unseen by the crowds walking past him. I stopped in front of him and he looked up and up again. I’m a good four inches over six feet and a big guy overall.

The crowd had to part to get around me. I ignored them as they ignored this poor sod.

“How long?” I asked.

“8 or 9 months.”

I nodded and tossed him my wedding ring.

“Hopefully this will bring you more luck than it did me.”

“Why?”

“You need a break. Hang on, do you have a phone?” He nodded, looking worried. “With video?” Again a nod.

I knelt next to him and gestured that he should get it out. He looked worried, and I told him to video me.

“Hi, I’m Bruce Baker, from…” I gave my address and email in Oz. “I’m giving…”

The guy turned the phone to him. “I’m Simon Parks.”

“I’m giving Simon my wedding ring. Hoping it brings him more luck than it did me. This video is proof that it’s not stolen and he deserves a decent price for it.” I held a semi threatening finger at the camera.

“Why?” he asked,

“I’m home for the first time in 15 years and you’re the first person I’ve talked to. The weather may be shite, but hopefully that can be a silver lining. Even if it’s 22 carat gold. I’ve always lived with the mantra that today might be bad, but tomorrow could be better. See ya Simon buddy.” I held out a hand for a knuckle bump and he returned it.

As I stood, I had a weird moment of the world shifting. I went from being invisible kneeling, to an awkwardly large obstacle. Walking away, I felt better than I had done in ages. It was only a month since I caught my wife with another guy and, to some extent, I couldn’t blame her. Him, however, I was happy to toss over the balcony of our apartment.

But before you feel sorry for him, we were only on the 1st floor and he landed on the back of his truck. So he wasn’t badly hurt. I gathered a handful of things I wanted, loaded them into my truck, and moved on. OK, I got monumentally drunk that night and passed out with a hooker. Luckily, I knew her and she didn’t rob me. But she charged me for the full night. Which was fair, I suppose. Cheaper than having to get new bank cards and stuff.

I got a taxi and asked for a cheap hotel and the driver gave me a look that I was mad. This was London. So I clarified something not too expensive. It was still outrageous to me. But I spend half my life living in my road train with a couple of hundred tons of cargo at my back.

I woke up after a good sleep and felt none of the jet lag people claimed. Shaved for the first time in nearly a week. And looked intently at my neck and noticed the scar from the strap of my motorcycle helmet that had saved my life. It looked more like a rash than a scar. I showered and wandered naked into the bedroom and picked up the list of hotel services.

A partnership with a gym round the corners sounded good. After too long cooped up in a too small seat on the plane, I needed to work out and stretch. Slipping into workout gear, I went to reception to see how I used the gym. The young lady behind the counter eyed my muscles as she made a call, and I played with her by flexing as she watched. She ended the call, looking flushed, and gave me directions.

The gym was a godsend to me, not some poncy fancy place with incense and yoga classes. This was a down and dirty place with a boxing ring and punching bags. OK, it had the regular gym equipment as well. But I hated running.

“You must be Mr Baker? I’m Max.” A heavily muscled man approached and held out his hand.

“Call me Bruce.” I shook his hand, and he tried to crush my hand.

He was at least six inches shorter than me.

“Seriously?” I replied and cranked up my grip until he relaxed.

“Sorry, it’s a childish habit.” He replied and shook his hand. “So, what are you looking for? Pilates or yoga.” He grinned to show he was joking.

“Some stretching. I was on a flight that seemed to last years, then some weights and I might have a go at the punching bags.”

“You box?”

“More brawl, but I’ve done it.”

I would not say my boxing was bare knuckle, as that was entirely different.

I worked out and felt better as I pumped weights. Max came around a few times to check on me, but realised I knew what I was doing. When I went to use the punching bags, he rushed over to give me boxing gloves. But he had to go back to get a bigger pair.

My bent little finger would have been a problem if the final joint was there, but we strapped it up and he walked me through using the bags. I worked into a rhythm and then mixed it up with jabs and heavy punches.

“If only I’d known you when you were 16, I could have done wonders.” Max commented.

“Hey at 16 I was a tall, gangly kid with no muscles or coordination.”

“Want to try the ring? I promise to go easy on you.” Max grinned, then I wiped the grin off his face as I lunged and hit the bag hard enough for the 100-pound bag to swing wildly.

“Not this time. If I’m back in this area in the future, I may take you up on that.”

I’d not brought a change of clothes, so I headed back to the hotel to clean up. The receptionist turned crimson as she saw me walk in, all sweaty and buff. After cleaning up and having a hearty breakfast, I figured out the trains to get home and left. If I was going to be around here longer, I might have asked out the receptionist, but she was a bit young for me.

As I neared home, I called my sister Josie and checked everything was going to plan. She was trying to keep the party a secret, but I suspected mum would have known it was coming. Josie had organised a party for their 30th anniversary, so why would a 40th be different?

When I’d agreed to come, I’d expected I could stay in my old room, so it came as a double blow when I couldn’t see them before the day. And they had moved into a tiny flat in a sheltered housing complex. So I contacted former friends and put the word out that I needed a place to stay temporarily. Pradesh had come back so that I could use the bedsit over one of his dad’s newsagents. It wasn’t great, but I was only going to be there briefly.

I called him as I got into the station at home and he told me the address and I told him I’d be there in 40 minutes. Rather than get a taxi, I walked it, as only 4 miles and that’s nothing in the outback. My long legs ate it up easily.

In the shop, Pradesh looked up, frowned and rushed over.

“Byron. Mate, do you eat steroids for breakfast?”

He slapped my arm in greeting.

“Fuck!”

“Pradesh!” His elderly father chided.

“Mr, Patel. Nice to see you again.” I extended my hand, and he looked up, trying to place me. “I used to be skinny. Into motorcycles.”

“Oh, that Byron.”

I chuckled. “Sorry, sir, but there aren’t many kids called Byron these days.”

The old man nodded and gave me a fraction of a smile.

“Why are you home? Not to get my son in trouble?”

“No sir, it’s my parent’s 40th anniversary. Then I’m off.”

“Good. I appreciate you respecting your family. Here.” He handed me the keys and got Pradesh to show me the bedsit.

A single bed that was hardly big enough to fit me, with a kitchenette and the bathroom shared with the shop. Given how much time I spend sleeping in the back of my truck, it was OK. I promised to catch up with Pradesh later and dumped my bag and headed out into my old stomping grounds.

Things had changed, but not enough that I couldn’t spot the telltale signs of gangs and lookouts. I’d no interest in stepping on anyone’s toes, and my size and rather intimidating persona was likely to get people nervous. Until I approached a power and laid out my bonafides.

With no idea of the lay of the land, I headed to my old territory until 3 youths stepped out to stop me. It was pretty funny, as their sneer was so false. I outweigh at least two of them, and even with weapons, I could deal with them. But that’s not what I wanted.

“This is my old territory from 15 years ago. I’ve been out of the country and want to clear the air with whoever is in charge. Or someone who can give me a pass.”

“Why should we believe you?” One asked, showing the cut throat blade tucked into his belt.

My first instinct was to show him physically, but I restrained myself.

“I went by treble B back in the day.” I mentioned a handful of names from back in the day and handed him a slip of paper with my phone number.

“Why should we let you go?” another guy asked, fingering his knife.

“Talk to the grown-ups first, otherwise you’ll be trying to figure out an excuse why someone has to remove that knife from up your arse.”

Over the years, I’d developed quite an effective projection of threat. In the old days I’d have just done it, now I knew I could try to go bloodless first. I turned and strode past the first guy, who looked like he was going to run.

I headed to a nearby coffee bar and waited, but not for long. My phone rang.

“Treble B. What’s up?” He used the old extended pronunciation from the Budweiser adds.

“Fanny Magnet? Really? Budweiser commercials from 20 years ago?”

“Seemed appropriate, given how long you’ve been gone, and it’s not Fanny Magnet now.”

“Shame, you were fucking good at sniffing out gash.”

“So Byron, why are you here?”

Using my name like that was a slap in the face.

“Parent’s anniversary. My sister bullied me into it.”

“Josie?”

I was surprised that Pete remembered her. Josie was never part of our world, but I’d no idea what had happened in the years I’d been away.

“We see each other socially occasionally. You never kept in touch?”

“It wasn’t a happy parting, Pete.”

“I remember. It was tough. You kinda took it on the chin for her.”

“You know?”

“Don’t beat me up, which after you scared the shit out of my guys, you really could do. But she and I dated a bit.”

“Really? Miss goodie two shoes dated a dirt bag like you. Oh, and by the way, your muscle is pathetic.”

“Man, you didn’t see my muscle, but they said you were intimidating.

Using my best batman growl. “You’ve not seen me intimidating.”

The phone went silent, then filled with Pete’s laughter.

“Oh man, that’s good. You sure I can’t borrow you to persuade a few people to be nice?”

“Sorry mate, I’m here for the family and then I go back home?”

“Home?”

“Oz. I’m finding the UK alien these days.”

“Fancy a drink?” I looked around, confused to see an expensive Jaguar pull up outside the coffee shop.

“I don’t know. Some prick just turned up in a fancy Jag and is blocking out the sun.”

He laughed and opened the door and gestured to me. A guy nearly my height got out of the passenger door and glowered at me. I stepped outside and looked him over. He must have been close to three hundred pounds.

“B, don’t mess with my staff. It’s expensive to replace them. This is Karl.” The guy glowered at Tony for a moment, then held out his hand.

I sighed and let him crush my hand for a moment until I squeezed back. I’d left the UK a scrawny guy and found work drilling in the outback. Learned to fix trucks and nearly anything hydraulic. Work was hard and tough and I gained muscles from the work and I loved bulking up to stop me from feeling like some gangly tool.

Over the years, I got genuine muscle instead of simply gym muscles. So many people did not know the difference. The pressure I applied on Karl increased until he looked worried.

“There you go Karl. Nice to meet you.” I climbed into the back of the car.

“You have to do that?”

“He started it.”

“Classic B. Could you have taken him?”

The car sagged as he sat in the front seat.

“Maybe,” I replied, the mouthed ‘yes’. To a grinning Pete.

I woke up feeling shite and groaned that I’d not bothered to at least get coffee and milk. Pete had taken me to a club and comped me. I had vague recollections of booze, hot babes and more booze. I knew he was feeling me out in case I was no longer sound and the girls were part of the plan.

Apart from the hangover, I was ok with it. Especially as one girl took me aside and sucked me off. I know she was probably getting paid, but she sucked my dick with too much obvious pleasure to think she was only doing it for that. At my height, my dick was above average and I know some women assumed my bulk meant my dick would be sub average. When they found out otherwise, it was always fun.

My phone rang, and I saw it was from to a second SIM in my phone. Pete must have slipped one in there.

“Hey man, how are you feeling?”

“Who beat me up?”

“That was Tanya. She told me to call her next time for a discount. Which is a blue chip recommendation in her world.”

“What’s up?”

“I wondered if you were up for a party tonight?”

“Not like last night?”

“No, a regular party. OK, not quite regular, but I promise you’ll enjoy it. I know you’ll be a hit.”

I stretched and told him I’d be there.

I called Josie, and she was as bossy as I remember. I felt a hint of anger that she’d been the one to get me to flee the country. She was five years my junior, and I’d occasionally covered for her when she’d fucked up so badly and I could mitigate it. My reputation with my parents was already toast.

When my parents found cocaine in her room, they accused me. It wasn’t mine, as I’d never let anyone I know sell to her. But I fell on my sword for her and threw myself under the bus and flew to the other side of the world. I never talked to the family for years. I loved my sister, but she cost me nearly everything.

When she started to try to manipulate and bully me, I pushed back.

“Josie, I’m here for mum and dad. But I’ve no compunction to not tell them that those drugs were really yours. I probably could find out who sold them to you.”

“You already linked up with your criminal buddies?”

“I’ve no idea what that means. Are we still on for Thursday, at the Golf club?” I tried to steer her back to business.

“Christ Byron, do you have to be such a dick?”

“Given how much I gave up on covering you. You owe me.” I hung up.

I was beginning to regret this idea of coming home and surprising my parents. I’d no idea if I’d be welcome, despite Josie’s assurance. But the biggest downside was hiding out until the party to avoid being noticed. So I bought some magazines from Mr Patel and read and watched TV until Tony called me for the party.

I knew something was going on from the expression on Tony’s face, but I’d let it play out. We ended up pulling into a driveway of a mini mansion and got out. Only to be met by a guy at the door. He was about 50, with a cashmere sweater draped over his shoulder. He greeted Tony warmly, and eyed me speculatively.

“This is Bruce. He’s one of my oldest friends and is cool. This is Alan.”

I shook Alan’s hand, noting the soft skin and manicured nails.

We were led into a kitchen where there were 11 other guys. Mostly around Alan’s age, but ranging up and down by about 10 years. Tony and I were the youngest by at least 5 years. All were soft looking, and I noticed everyone was drinking soft drinks. Looking over at Tony, I suddenly wondered if he was secretly gay and this was a sausage party.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve nothing against poofters, but it’s not my gig. If one hits on me, I’ll just leave.

Then, to my relief, an elegant woman appeared and talked to Alan. She’s around 50 but good looking and wearing a simple but elegant cocktail dress and expensive high heels. It’s weird, but I always notice a woman’s shoes. The body language between the pair reveals they are married and they talk for a moment. Then she leaves and Alan turns to the rest of the men and smiles.

The men start to leave the room and Alan tries to put his arm around my shoulder and fails. It looks more like a child doing it.

“I hope your friend is broad minded.” He says to Tony, who winked at me.

We’re led into a dimly lit room, and it’s not doing anything to relax me about being surrounded only by men. My eye is drawn to a painter’s dust sheet hanging down behind the double door leading into the next room. Alan stands in front of it and is looking unduly smug. Then I noticed the sheet moving, and I realised it must be on a roller or something.

Looking around the room, I see ostentatious furnishings that reminded me of a stately home and not a real home. The light suddenly increased, and I realised that the lights in the next room had been turned on. Turning back, I accepted this party might be something after all. The light is shining through the sheet, but my true attention is the naked breasts pushed through two holes in the sheet.

High on one breast is a sticker with a ‘1’ written on it. Alan passes amongst the men and hands each a small velvet bag. I check the contents to see a dozen marbles and frown at Tony. He gestures to a table with a dozen bowls, each with a labelled number. Obviously, some sort of voting system for the ladies. I wondered if there was the same for the ladies?

Alan gestured to one of the men, who approached the sheet and reached out to fondle the breasts. After about 30 seconds, Alan tapped him on the shoulder and the next man took over. Each man takes his turn, and I realised hands and mouths are allowed. As I’m new, I’m the last to go.

The woman’s nipples are hard and slightly wet from being sucked on. I can smell her perfume and make a note of it for later on. I gently caress her flesh. My hands are large and callused, but she doesn’t seem to mind. There is a little sag from age, but not bad, and I move my mouth to suckle gently on her breast and nipples.

I can hear her whispering to the other ladies about what I’m doing and hear a little sniggering and girlish giggling. Alan taps my shoulder and I stand back. The light goes off and I see the sheet move, lowering the holes for the next lady. Two more breasts appear and these are larger and rather saggy, but I never turn my nose up at any sort of breasts.

The light went on and Alan gave me a nod, as I was already there. She tensed as I cupped her breasts and sighed as my mouth found one and then the other. I can hear her describing what my tongue was doing, and then my time was done.

Numbers 3 and 4 were smaller breasts, but number 5 was spectacular. Perky with great rubbery nipples that begged to be played with. Obviously, she was popular, as Alan had to remind a couple of the men twice that their time was up. Again I was the last to go, and the woman was panting from the attention to her breasts.

Opening my mouth as wide as I could go, I sucked in as much of her C cups as I could, then rapidly ran my tongue over the nipple. Suddenly, the breast is pulled back and I look to Alan to see if I’d transgressed.

He smiles and whispers that there was a penalty for any woman who climaxes too soon. Which made me feel good, but disappointed I’d not had all my time with those amazing tits. The rest of the women were about average. A number were noticeably older, but I would not give them less than my full attention.

To me, if a woman was brave enough to offer her breasts on display and for my pleasure. As a gentleman, I owed it to her to make it worth her while. An attitude that earned me some mild teasing in Oz, but nobody risked pushing me too hard.

After the last, we all traipsed back into the kitchen. This time Alan passed out expensive whisky, which was wasted on me. I sipped it, while some of the other men go at it like water.

The hostess appeared a few minutes later, and we followed her back to the other room. I got a glance into the other room as she stepped inside. I realised it was a dining room, and I saw a couple of women around her age and smartly dressed.

Back in the living room, the sheet has been wound down, so a heap of it is on the floor. A single hole is in the sheet and a woman’s mouth is pressed to the hole. It’s a little anticlimactic after the last round, but I don’t mind just kissing a Sheila. However, by lady number four, there is a longer delay.

So when the lights come up, the hole in the cloth is at waist level. The woman’s mouth was open, and the implication was clear. Alan took host privileges and went first and unzipped himself. Turning his back to us, we all saw as he pressed his dick and heard the moan of pleasure as he put it into the offered mouth.

I looked at Tony, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. Someone put a hand on Alan’s shoulder and he stepped back as another man took his turn. Alan pulls out a phone and sets a 30 second timer. Not relying on judgement this time. I saw that most of the men had unzipped and pulled out their dicks in preparation.

I’m not so keen on this, not that I’ve anything to be ashamed of in that area. But I’m less comfortable around naked or semi naked men. At least, until my turn finally comes and I notice she’d put her number sticker on her cheek. Pressing my dick to her mouth causes her to choke and pull back. Muttering something about the size. Her hand reached out to wank it and I sensed movement on the other side of the sheet.

Shadows show that several women are looking over her shoulder to admire it. Then the mouth was back, but only for the remaining 10 seconds. Hoping that the next woman would continue, I’m disappointed when the sheet moved up. I just got to kiss the next woman, although her hand reached through the sheet to fondle my dick.

Of the remaining women, only two took the lower position. Number 10 and number 5. Number 10 was a little toothy and rather eager, while number 5 was just perfect. Soft, warm and welcoming. The sort of mouth I could spend hours inside and I sensed that was what she liked. 10 tried stupidly been trying to get us off in our 30 second time limit, whereas 5 was just a promise for more later.

Back in the kitchen, I saw all the men grinning like idiots at this party and drinking more than was sensible. If this was going to continue, they may regret that later. The hostess appeared, looking a little dishevelled. Her hair was not so perfect and a flush on her cheeks. I wondered which one she’d been as I was sure she was number 1, but I’d not noticed her number that time.

She chats to Alan at the door and he gestures for Tony and me to follow him alone. The hostess slipped into the living room and Alan gestures to Tony to enter the dining room, but blocks me from following.

“I figured you should see this bit to see what’s going on.”

The sheet has been wound up to hang about 3 feet above the ground. Tony gave me a shrug and slipped off his trousers and underwear. Then moved to stand in front of the sheet. His dick poked under it and I saw multiple ladies’ legs move close and hand reach under the cloth to touch him. I nodded to Alan and returned to the kitchen.

Only I’ve nothing in common with these men and chatting to strangers, all sporting erections is weird. So I find the back door and head outside. If the timing is the same as last time, it could be close to an hour before I’m up. A few minutes later, Alan comes outside and lights up a cigar.

“So, Bruce, how are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s odd, but…” I shrugged and he grinned. “Do you do them often?”

“Two or three times a year. It’s hard to get people who want to take part. That’s how Tony got involved.” I raised an eyebrow. “In the early days, Tony arranged for a few professionals to take part.”

“Any of those here tonight?”

“No, all volunteers.”

“All wives or girlfriends?”

“No, not all. Most are, which is why some women are more restrained than others.”

We chatted for a few minutes about my background before he stubbed out his cigar.”

“Better go back in to see how it’s going. Oh, I should have mentioned. In this round, if you cum, you have to leave the party. Will that be a problem?”

I grinned and shook my head.

“And I should tell you my wife says you’re quite the hit. Finding a younger guy with your equipment is rare.”

OK, that was weird. I’ve never had a guy compliment my equipment before. Plenty of ladies, but not a bloke.

I was trying to think of anything in my life that came close to this and the nearest I could think of was Paula in Adelaide; I think. Although the location didn’t matter. It was on the coast, anyway.

I’d just finished driving my road train for 6 days and was in a bar working on a pitcher of ice cold beer. Not my type of bar, but the beer was cheap. It was a quiet night, and I noticed when two young women entered. I recognised their look immediately. Young women, barely out of their teens, doing a world tour and marvelling at everything.

I noticed their accent was American as they ordered drinks. One was slim and Asian in origin. Small tits and full of confidence. The other was curvier with large tits, blonde, but a little more reserved. Obviously a follower and not a leader. The Asian girl was dressed in a skin-tight t-shirt and shorts, while her friend was in slightly more conservative shorts and blouse. But she still looked hot. If too young for my tastes.

As it was a slow night, the DJ was playing music, trying to get anyone to dance, and eventually the two girls got up and danced with each other. The blonde seemed to let her hair down a bit as she danced, and they both teased the crowd by rubbing up against each other.

I ordered a second pitcher and sighed at the low strength beer. It was cold and refreshing, but did nothing to get me drunk. The DJ was getting the girls to do dares, like the first one to hand him a hat wins a drink. This went on with other things, like a shoe or socks. Each winner downed a shot of something strong and sickly by the look of it.

It was pretty funny as the girls were so competitive and getting drunk on the shots. I was nearing the end of my second and final pitcher. When the DJ set a challenge to pick a guy from the audience and get them to remove their shirts. I thought he meant the guys’ shirt, but the Asian girl made a beeline for me. Plonked herself down on my lap and told me to remove her t-shirt.

“I’m Candice, by the way. My friend is Paula.”

She ground her small tight arse against my lap and I peeled off her t-shirt. She wore a bra, but hardly needed it. I handed her the shirt, but she pressed back against me and pulled my hands to her stomach, then up over her breasts.

“And my bra.” She told me with a gleam in her eyes.

I glanced over at Paula to see her guy was making the most of bouncing her on his lap and making a meal of unbuttoning her blouse. Candice ground against me, and I knew she could feel my erection growing. She leant forward to let me access the catch of her bra and pressed her hand under herself to run her hand over my bulge.

The bra came off, and I saw small breasts with tiny hard nipples over dark areola. She ground against me, then took her clothes back to the DJ. Paula looked less happy as her guy removed her bra and revealed large and very appealing boobs. Her guy groped her before she jumped up and ran to her friend and the DJ. She wrapped her arm around her boobs to hide them.

The DJ raised one arm of each girl to the applause of the crowd. After a moment, Paula let her other arm drop and showed off her amazing boobs. She was flushed from the booze and being topless. Candice took it in her stride and bounced up and down in victory. The DJ took their tops and bras and handed out branded t-shirts from the bar.

The t-shirts were short and barely covered their boobs. Candice’s shirt was loose compared to her own, but Paula’s was pulled tight over her tits and I could see her nipples trying to escape.

It was obvious that the fun was over for the moment. The girls went back to the bar to find they had free drinks for the rest of the night. I was finishing my beer when Candice pulled her friend towards me. She whispered something and Paula blushed and looked at my crotch.

“This is my friend Paula.” She introduced me and I stood to shake her hand.

Both girls were fairly short and, without meaning to, I loomed over them.

“I’m Bruce.”

“Seriously?” Paula asked, and I shrugged.

Candice took the only other stool and gestured that Paula should sit on my lap. She sat sideways, and Candice frowned and shrugged. Obviously disappointed that Paula hadn’t taken advantage of sampling my bulge. But I noticed she glanced down at it a few times.

They moved off after a few minutes of small talk and moved to another table. Candice sitting on many guys’ laps and pushing her tiny tits into their faces. Paula sat on a few and allowed a little groping, but hopped up if they got too handsy. A could sense a tension between the two girls that Candice wanted Paula to play along.

Finishing my beer, I went to the dunny to recycle the beer and as I returned; I saw Paula standing off to one side, with Candice snogging some guy while sitting on another’s lap and getting groped up.

“Do you have a smoke?” Paula asked me.

I still smoked in those days and took her out to the smoking area and handed her one and lit one up myself.

“It looks like you and your friend aren’t getting on.”

“She’s only a friend of a friend. There were supposed to be 5 of us, but the other 3 backed out at the last minute. I didn’t really know her and if I did, I’d have dropped out as well.”

“A bit of a party girl?”

“And then some. I don’t mind a bit of fun and letting my hair down, but…” She shrugged.

We finished our smokes and returned to the bar, where Paula said. “Fuck!”

On the dance floor was a kneeling Candice, topless again and wanking two guys at once. I looked at Paula, who shook her head.

“Can you get me out of here safely?”

I followed her to the DJ and loomed over him as she got her clothes and purse back. One or two men eyed her up as we left. Probably wondering if she was as big a slut as her friend, but my presence was enough for them to leave her alone.

“The hostel we’re staying at is close. Will you walk me there?”

“Sure.”

We walked in silence until she stopped outside a nondescript building. And she swore under her breath.

“What?”

“I just remembered, we’re in a room with bunk beds. If things run true to form, she’ll bring at least two guys back with her and I’m in no mood to fuck a string of guys.”

“OK, I’m not trying to be forward, but you could bunk with me. I’ve got a big rig parked about 10 minutes’ walk away.” She looked up at me and I saw her calculating things in her head.

“A big rig? I’d love to see the inside one.”

“You can take the bed and I can figure out how to sleep in the front seat.”

“We’ll see.” She hooked her arm through mine as I led her to my rig.

It was rather pleasant to feel her large breast pressed against my bicep. At the rig, I opened the passenger door, and she gripped the handrails to pull herself up. Then stopped and looked back at me and then down to her butt. I realised the invitation and gripped it with the excuse of helping her into the cab.

She was like a kid exploring the cab and sleeping section. She kicked off her shoes as she clambered over the bed.

“How does a big guy like you fit back here?”

“It’s a tight fit. You can take the bed and close the curtain and I’ll sleep in the front.”

“Are you sure?” She replied and peeled the t-shirt off, revealing her amazing boobs again. “If you’ve got condoms?”

I had, and I crawled into the back with her and we struggled with the space to get naked. When she saw my erection, her eyes went wide, as if she’d never seen one before.

“Fuck me Bruce. That’s huge.” She reached out and could barely get her fingers around it.

In truth, it’s perfectly average for my size, but I’m a big guy. She sucked me off for a while before asking for the condom and rather expertly put it on me and climbed on top. Slowly impaling herself on my dick. I always let my new partners set the pace as I’m big and strong and it’s too easy to be too rough.

But Paula seemed to like it hard and fast as she bounced around on me until her orgasmed. When I’d not cum, she insisted on doing it doggy fashion and as I eased back inside; the condom broke. Not an usual occurrence, and I pulled out instantly.

“What?”

“The condom broke.”

“Fuck, just take it off and stick that monster back inside me. Just don’t cum inside me. Pull out and do it in my mouth.”

I prefer it without a rubber and fucked her harder. Despite having already cum, Paula does it again and I keep going until I’m really close. Then she begs me for a few more seconds as she’s so close again. Gritting my teeth, I held back long enough for her third orgasm and then pulled out. Spun her around like a rag doll and shot my load into her open mouth.

She took a drink of water and then asked if I minded if we just went to sleep. Which was fine by me. She slept in my arms and I woke to find her sitting naked in the cab, fixing her hair and removing makeup. She looked back at me as I stirred and grinned at me.

“I was worrying you would never wake up.”

“Well, someone wore me out last night. You realise anyone going past can see you topless?”

She looked out of the windows, then shrugged. “It’s only tits.”

“Your tits are never ‘only’. They are amazing.”

“Thanks. Better than Candice’s anyway. Fancy painting them with cum before I go?”

She turned and knelt on the seat and wiggled her tush out the window, then clambered into the back and sucked me fully hard. Then lay back and insisted I get on top. I cautioned her about my weight, but she admitted she loved being held down by the weight of a guy on top of her.

We fucked until she shuddered through her climax, then insisted I rest on her for a few minutes. Then she went back to sucking me off. When I was close, she suddenly stopped.

“What?”

“I wanted you to cum on my tits so I could show Candice that I have a wild side too, but now I want to taste it again.”

“How about we try both?” I replied, and she lay on her back and I straddled her chest.

She pushed her boobs together for a titty fuck. But I finished with my hand and got the first spurt in the middle of her chest and most of the rest into her mouth. She grinned at me and carefully moved to grab something from her purse. Sitting up, she took a selfie of her with cum over her chest and chin, with me in the background with my dick still hard.

“I hope that’s not going on the internet.”

“Relax, it’s just for me to remember the better parts of my trip.”

She dressed, carefully placing the bar t-shirt over her tits so as not to smear the cum.

“Can I have your number?” She gave me a look. “Nothing clingy. I just want to know if you and your friend are OK later.”

I gave her my number and her thumbs shot over the screen, and my phone beeped. She waved me goodbye and hopped out of the cab. I dressed and took a walk to the nearest public pool and swam for 1/2 an hour, then used the showers. Truckers need to know where they can find facilities like them and walk back to my truck.

When I checked my phone, I saw two messages from Paula. The first was the photo she’d taken with the caption ‘I loved your big rig, and the other big things.’ Followed by a kiss. The second was a photo of her and Candice at an outdoor restaurant nearby. It had the text telling me Candice had taken 3 guys back to the hostel and fucked all 3 before getting kicked out in the middle of the night. Then she’d sat in a bus shelter for the rest of the night with their bags.

I looked at the photo again and even with the sunshades, Candice looked tired.

Tony eventually came to find me and dismissed my memories. Telling me it was my turn and grinning so hard I thought the top of his head would fall off.

It was a little intimidating to step into the dining room and see many women’s feet under the sheet. It looked like someone had lifted the sheet higher in anticipation of my height. I slipped off my trousers and boxer shorts and stroked myself a little. But thinking about that encounter with Paula had made me mostly hard. I felt weird in only my shoes and knee-length socks.

The socks are something that earns some ridicule back home. Like a pom in socks and a thong. [Flip flops to the rest of the world.] But I wore them to cover up the scars as I tired of constantly having to explain them.

A stopped with my nose almost touching the sheet and heard the quiet talking on the other side stop. Then many hands touched me. Some on my flat muscled stomach, others on my large thighs, and one reached up to caress my pectoral muscles. But the two I paid the most attention to were the one cupping my balls and the other wanking my shaft.

There was quiet muttering and nervous giggling, then the hostess asked me to turn around. As hands caress my buttocks, I flex, which earns me a slap and a comment about needing a big hammer to hammer home a nail like mine.

I was guided back around and suddenly felt a mouth engulf my dick. There were gasps of surprise, and I figured it was usually more touching to start with. Looking down, I saw the hostess sucking me with a blissful expression on her face. The sheet was high enough that I could see all her face.

When she looked up, she seemed embarrassed that I’d seen her. Then pulled back and held a finger to her lips for my silence. Then she gestured I should lower the sheet a little. I saw a handle and turned it and lowered the cloth so my dick would need to lift it slightly, but giving the women their anonymity.

After the hostess was a woman who had removed her blouse and her bra was on display. I figured after earlier that it was fair game and reached into it to fondle her breast. In a moment, and without removing my dick from her mouth, she slipped it off to allow me full access.

Whatever hesitance there had been in the previous round, this time nearly every woman took their turn sucking my dick, feeling my muscles. The second woman seemed to have set the bar for the rest. As each woman was topless when then knelt in front of me. Some in skirts and others in just panties. About half way through, one commented about how heavy my balls were and when I blew, they’d better take cover.

Not that there was any chance of that. It was nice, but 30 seconds each wasn’t enough to get me off. At least until I recognised number 5’s mouth. She was the last of the 12 and I suspected I knew why. Fuck, she was good. Almost too good.

She had the best body of all the women, and I figured she was younger than me. Wearing sexy and tiny panties that I ached to remove. I caressed her breasts and was rewarded with an extra effort, which forced me to stop touching her or blow.

I’d been counting down in my head for each woman, but when my counter got to zero, it kept going. I remembered Alan’s admonishment that I was out if I climaxed. And I weighed up if it was worth it to hold off to see what was next or just explode now. Luckily, she reluctantly finished.

“Damn, I thought I nearly had him.” She said,

“I personally am glad you didn’t. The next round is something I am looking forward to.” I recognised the hostess’s voice.

If I had a glass of ice, I might have pushed my dick into it to calm down, but I dressed and returned to the others in the kitchen. Moments later, the hostess arrived and whispered to Alan, and he gave a sad smile. Then walked over to one other man and tapped him on the shoulder.

The man scowled, downed his drink, and stomped off. So at least one guy hadn’t lasted. I tried not to smirk, but it had been a close thing, even for me. Two more men are similarly singled out, but they take it in their stride and shake hands with the others before leaving.

“Does that mean their partners go as well?” I whispered to Tony.

“No, mate, that’s part of the punishment. Leaving their wife here to continue to play. Although I should warn you at this stage, some of the women pull out. They stay to the end to watch, but don’t take part.”

It made sense, but I hoped number 5 would continue.

The hostess returned for a private chat with her husband, and Tony smiled and nodded over. I saw she held up six fingers.

“Six, that’s more than usual. I wonder if it’s because you’re here?” He said, and it was a little weird again. Feeling a little like a prize bull put out to stud.

The remaining men returned to the living room to see the curtain was about waist height and I moved to the far side of the room. Seeing some ladies with their skirts or dresses on from the knees down, but others who were not.

Alan got our attention and called for the first woman. She approached the curtain, and we all saw she was nude from the waist down. Instantly I recognised the shoes and knew it’s the hostess.

“Gentlemen, a reminder to some and to explain to our newcomer. You are to be polite and respectful to the ladies. And roughness or unwanted touching will have you out of here in a moment. And for this round, the trousers stay zipped up.” Alan concludes, then takes first place to fondle his wife in front of the crowd.

He squeezed her buttocks and ran his fingers through her pubic hair, but she seemed determined to keep her legs together. Which is fine. I’m pretty sure whoever was number 4 would open them willingly. The other men follow suit, with a few bending to smell and kiss her pubes. One reached up under the curtain to fondle her tits. So it seemed everything was fair game this time.

When my turn came, I stroked her backside and ran my thumb over her pubes and stood close enough that my chest pressed against her breasts. In a low whisper, I said.

“I love your home, and I’m extremely pleased to have been invited.”

She let out a little gasp that I knew her.

“I’m very pleased that you’ve come.” So saying. Her hand reached under the sheet to rub over my bulge. “I’d love to show you the rest of the house. Like the bedroom, for example.”

“I think you’re showing an awful lot more than just some boring furniture now.”

She giggled, then surprised me by moving her feet about a foot apart. I glanced at Alan, who was as surprised as me, and took a sip of his drink. I knelt and inhaled her scent, then ran my fingertips up the inside of her thighs. Stopping as one touched her pussy. She was so hot and wet my fingers came away glistening with her juices. I brought them to my mouth and savoured it.

I stood and whispered in her ear. “You taste divine. I wish I could get a better taste.” I finished pressing my thumb between her labia and she shivered. Had she just climaxed from that?

In a shaky voice, she said. “Wait for the next round.” And my time was up.

As I moved away, I saw a few men frown at me.

“Tony, was talking to her against the rules?”

“Not as such, it’s just we like to keep up the pretence of anonymity. I was a little shocked that she did that. I never would have expected her to do it.”

“Our hostess?” I replied.

“How did you know?”

“The shoes.”

“It’s fine. We all work out who is who over time. But it’s polite to pretend we don’t. Not that anyone could mistake you. How many rocks did you have to look under to find that monster?”

“Some of us are just gifted.”

“Jammy sod.” He replied, nudging me as the next woman stepped up.

She was shorter and with a bit of a belly and thick legs. Her pussy was shaved, and she stood with her legs well parted in invitation to us all.

“How many rounds are there?” I whispered.

“Usually this is the last. I came to one that had more, but that was when we had professionals take part.”

“Because the hostess said there was at least one more.”

“Really. You must be our lucky charm.”

By the fifth guy, she shuddered with a climax, and I looked at Tony.

“Is she out?”

“Why the fuck would we want her out?”

“I thought there was a penalty for climaxing?”

“Only for the guys.”

“But they said if a woman climaxes too soon, there is a penalty.”

“Only in the early rounds. And you’d have to come to another party to see what the penalty is.”

Tony took his turn and then I came last. Reaching under the sheet with one hand, I took her large breast in one hand and I stroked her pussy with the other. I recognised this as number 2 and was well on her way to another orgasm.

“Time.” Alan announced.

“A few more seconds.” The woman begged, and I heard sniggering from the ladies.

“What do you think, guys?”

All but her obvious husband agreed a little longer. And I worked her pussy and breasts for another 30 seconds until she climaxed on my fingers.

I sucked my fingers clean and approached the unhappy-looking guy.

“Sorry, was that wrong?” He let out a sigh.

“No, not really. It’s just when she comes home from these parties without an orgasm. She’s raring for sex when we get home. If she has one here, it’s more hit and miss when we get home.”

“Well, I’m wishing you luck for later. In my experience, I think you’ll get lucky.”

I shook his hand, and he smiled.

The next woman seemed to be unsure if she wanted to be fingered or not. But one of the men knelt and lapped at what he could of her slit. After that, she moved her legs apart and invited the next guy to finger her. Instead, he licked her as well, and she climaxed and stumbled. Landing heavily on the floor and revealing her identity.

Hands appeared to pull her up and out of our prying eyes.

“Fuck!” Tony mutters. “That’s one we don’t get a go with.”

“Getting greedy in your old age.” I punched him lightly on the shoulder.

“Some don’t get the chances like some blonde haired beach bum I could mention.”

I flicked my hair as if it was long and grinned.

There was a knock on the door and I saw the hostess talking to Alan. He frowned at what she said, then closed the door.

“OK gentlemen. A slight change of plan. As there are only three ladies left. They have requested a change to the rules. Instead of each of you having 30 seconds with each lady, they have requested that each of you get 2 minutes, but you only get a single lady.”

There was some grumbling.

“However, I’ve been assured that each of the remaining women is extremely keen to get off, so you shouldn’t miss out too much.”

I noticed one of the older men looked concerned and downed the last of his drink. Then refill his glass. I’m assuming one of the last women is his wife, and that’s not something she usually did.

“I’ve also been informed that I’m excluded from this round from now on. Which is a bummer. But she who must be obeyed…” There is a loud ‘Oy,’ from the other room and everyone chuckles.

“So, split yourself into threes and play rock, paper scissors. The first winner gets lady number one and so on. Then play again to see which order you go in with each lady. But I’ve been told that whoever goes last continues until she’s done. If she’s not already done by then.”

I’d played rock, paper, and scissors a lot. When there’s nothing to do for a hundred miles, you’ll do anything. So I knew the best strategies. I had no way of knowing which lady I’d get, but I knew how to come last. I got number 2 and then 3rd place as I hoped.

When we were ready, the woman moved to the curtain, and I saw the guy I assumed was her husband wince and look awkward. He was in group three, so he had to watch three horny guys trying to get his wife off. After 3 two minute sessions, she was close but not there. So the lucky third guy kept going and another minute later, she gasped out her climax.

Her husband was flushed, but actually seemed proud of her performance.

I could have punched the air as I saw my woman was number 5. She was shaved and had a pierced belly button with a little jade bead on a ring, and I thought I could see a clit ring. I’d know soon enough. The first guy was hopeless and seemed to assume frenetic speed was all that was required. I was almost surprised he wasn’t kicked out for being rough. But the second guy was almost as bad. So when it was my turn, I was almost sorry for the girl.

I knelt before her and kissed her mons and quietly asked her to turn around. Christ, she had a great arse, one I’d love to see in my bed every day as I fucked her from behind. I whispered this to her and she wiggled it for me. Then I licked my first 2 fingers and thumb of my right hand and eased them between her parted thighs.

Gently, I worked my thumb inside her, but she was plenty wet enough. Using my first two fingers to stimulate her clit.

“Oh, that’s nice, just like that.”

While I knew I didn’t have to worry about the 2 minute time limit, I knew I couldn’t drag it out too long. So I reached up to fondle her perfect tit. A hand closed over mine and pressed me harder to her breasts. Using my fingers and the small silver ring hanging from her clit, I brought her closer to climax, faster than expected.

We heard the timer beep that my 2 minutes were up, but we kept doing it. She was leaning forward and pushing back against me. Repeating the phrase ‘oh god’ again and again. From this angle, I was tempted to look under the sheet to see who this angel was. Unless she was a trophy wife of one of these men, I wondered who she could be.

From the reactions of the other men to various women, I figured that while Tony and I were wild cards, so was she. It made less sense that she was a wife and one of the older women was a wild card.

Alan and Tony said there were no professionals here, but with her body, she could have made a fortune. She stumbled a step, and I pressed my shoulder to her backside and gripped her stomach to steady her as she exploded with her orgasm. I easily held her up until she was steady again and there was a smattering of applause from both sides of the curtain.

She stepped away and turned around, reached under the curtain and asked for my hand. Taking my right hand, she sucked her juices off me and her mouth felt as wonderful on my fingers as it had on my dick.

“I was hoping to do that myself.” I commented, and she and the others chuckled.

“Help yourself.” She lifted one leg up and allowed me free access to re-coat my fingers.

I made an exaggerated moan of culinary delight at the taste and stepped back. Painfully hard and bursting for the toilet, so I missed what happened with number three. All the men were back in the kitchen and most were visibly drunk.

“What happens now?” I asked Tony, who shrugged.

“No idea.” He replied, and I realised he was pretty drunk as well.

Alan appeared with his wife and carried the voting bowls and set them on the counter.

“OK, gentlemen. Time to vote. And remember to be nice.”

His voice was showing the booze as well. The remaining guys walked past distributing marbles almost at random. It was good to see that each lady got at least some. But the majority seemed to be for number 5, which was hardly surprising. I split mine mostly between 1 and 5, with a few randomly, for good luck.

I saw the hostess smile as she saw how many I’d put in her pot and blushed slightly as she caught me looking.

“OK, let’s have a look. My wife can assure the ladies that each of them has done well, but the lucky winner, again, is number 5.” The men all cheered. “I’m so glad I discovered her.”

So that seemed to confirm she wasn’t with one of these men.

“And my, I mean number 1, has come a reasonable second.” There is more cheering and the hostess blushes as she remembers she still had her label showing 1 on her chest.

Alan removes an envelope from his pocket and shows us a wedge of cash. To me, it looks like perhaps £500. He handed it to his wife, who slipped from the room.

“Unusually, Gentlemen, there is a bonus round. But it seems tonight is anything but usual.” He glances at me. “It’s been a long time since we played a bonus round. I suggest that each of you take a moment to consult your partners. One at a time, go to the living room and whisper your partner’s name. Then come back.”

Over the next 15 minutes, each man consults with their partner and most come back looking disappointed. Thanked Alan and waited in the hall until a woman slipped out of the dining room to join them. Alan closed the door to give them some privacy.

“I take it you two are staying?” He asked.

“If that’s ok?”

“More than OK. In fact, you’ve been specifically requested to stay.”

I’m not sure if Alan is happy about that or not, but his wife sticks her head around the door and makes an obvious 3 with her fingers. He looks surprised, then takes a deep breath.

“Here’s the deal Bruce, there are 3 ladies who are left and pretty much anything is up for grabs. The only stipulations are you cannot see their faces and…”

“Polite, considerate, and that sort of thing.”

“Exactly. If you want to stick anything up their bum. Ask first, but I suspect they’ll all be too scared of that to try.”

“Ok, is there a time limit?”

“Let’s see how many men are left first.”

The numbers reduce to 4 men. The others leave disappointed or relieved. Alan pulls out a box of condoms.

“OK, there are three ladies. Remember to treat them as such. You have to wear a condom and change it between each woman. And remember, they all want the pleasure as well don’t just concentrate on one.”

“Sorry if this bollocks up your plan, but these aren’t going to fit me.”

“Fuck! Hang on.” He hurries off and has a hasty conversation through the door of the dining room.

After a few minutes, he looks at his wife in shock, then comes back, shaking his head.

“OK, breaking every single house rule, it seems that you don’t need a condom. But that means you go last and you have to wash your dick between each woman. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I’m out because I never considered the need to buy condoms large enough to fit an elephant.”

“Touch luck mate.” I replied. But Tony held his arm up to his face and did an elephant impression.

“So if there are just the three of us, I guess there is no time limit, but at least consider the next guy waiting.”

He walked off and poured himself a very stiff whisky.

“Can I go through Alan?” The remaining guy Clive asks and Alan waved him off as the guy grabs a handful of condoms and hurries into the living room.

“What happens this time?” I asked Tony, who shrugs.

“The last time this happened was when I had 2 girls working here. As they didn’t care about anonymity, and there was a smaller group back then. It was basically a gang bang. This time I’m not sure. I’m a little shocked that there are 3 left. One is bound to be Maureen. She’s number 4 to you and Clive’s wife. So that’s not a new pussy to him. The other 2 I’ve no idea. Maybe the wife of one of the three who got kicked out early.”

“I hope one is number 5.”

“Oh fuck, she’s hot. I literally had to bite my cheek to stop myself from cumming when she blew me earlier.”

“I know. I was so close. Do you know her?”

“Not really. She’s not a wife or girlfriend, so I’ve no idea where Alan found her, but I’m glad he did. She’s only been to a few of these and it’s perked the crowd up to have a younger person. That’s why I still get invited. Even when I’m not providing girls.”

15 minutes later, Clive returns, looking sweaty but satisfied. He gave us a thumbs up, then went over to drink with Alan, who seemed to be sulking in the corner. Tony looks at his watch, waits 2 minutes before heading off. Only to return a moment later and grab the condoms.

Rather than wait with the others, I headed outside again. Feeling the chill British weather again. But at least it’s dry. As I start to feel the chill biting, I head inside as Tony returns and grins and gives me the thumbs up.

“You’re in for a treat, mate. Want me to hang around or…”

“I’ll get a taxi mate. Going last means I can take my time. I don’t want Carl being all crabby tomorrow, as we’ve kept him up past his bedtime.”

Tony fist bumps me and says good night to our host. From the slur in his voice, I think he’s not far from passing out. Clive does not sound much better.

Now or never, I thought as I entered the living room and burst into a huge grin. On three padded benches are three naked women. Each partially obscured by the sheet hanging over their upper torso. The furthest is number 4 and on her back with her leg open, waiting for me.

The nearest is our hostess, still in her expensive shoes. She’s also on her back, but more relaxed. As if patient to take her turn. The remaining woman is number 5, who is kneeling and presenting her amazing arse at me. All three benches have been adjusted to nearly the perfect fucking height. They must have done that after Tony left, as I doubt he could reach that high.

“Isn’t that a beautiful sight? Three perfect and accommodating ladies.” Number 4 giggles and her tits wobble. “I feel like a kid in a candy store, not knowing what to pick first.”

Number 4 holds up a hand and says ‘pick me’ in a high squeaky voice.

“Just to make sure, ladies, you are all comfortable that I don’t wear a condom. After I split with my Ex for fucking around, I had a STD test last month, but I need to hear you say it.” Trio all agree readily.

Moving to number 4, I take my time sucking on her tits and fingering the sloppy pussy. Her hips thrust up against me from the start and I realise she’s close to climax.

“Please, I need to feel that thing inside me.”

I lined up and held the bulb of my dick at her opening.

“Are you going to tell your friend what it feels like?”

“Yes!” she gasped as the head slipped inside. “Oh shit! He’s only got the tip in and I feel so full.”

Our hostess giggles nervously, and I see her reach down to touch herself.

As I slowly bottom out, she groans and holds her hands against my stomach to stop me.

“Fuck, it feels like I’m having a baby in reverse.”

“Does it hurt?” 5 asked,

“Babies, yes, this is nothing like that. This is amazing, but so fucking big. I doubt my husband will touch the sides for a week.” All three chuckle until I start to fuck her properly.

Her bench creaks and her tits bounce around as I pound at her. Her chest up to her neck is flushed. She makes grunting sounds and thrusts her hips up at me. I reach between us and strum her clit, and she gurgles as she climaxes.

“Oh fuck, that was good. The others were fun, but that was the best ever.”

“Don’t oversell it.”

“Trust me ladies, this is the best I’ve ever had.”

She moved to get off the bench, but slipped under the sheet to stand naked before me. Holding her finger up for my silence, she drops to her knees to suck me briefly. Then I hugged and kissed her.

She slipped back under the sheet and vanished. Presumably to gather her clothes and husband in that order.

I quickly wash myself and approach number 5. Although, if I had a choice of three women or just her, I’d have chosen just her. I could spend hours just admiring that arse and the shaved lips poking between her thighs would put anything from Michael Angelo in the shade.

But I still had two ladies to satisfy. Even if there wasn’t anyone else waiting, they were. Standing at one side of the bench, I reached under her to play with a breast as I caressed her buttocks. I honestly told her how amazing she was and how much I hoped to meet her on the street. And hoping I’d somehow recognise her. Take her out and enjoy ourselves.

“I bloody well hope you don’t recognise me. But for fuck’s sake, just fuck me. I’m dying here.”

I chuckled to myself. That sounded way too much like my sister’s turn of phrase.

“You asked for it.”

Press into her slowly.

“Fuck, I’ve changed my mind. It’s too big.”

“Seriously?” I asked

“OK, but go slowly. It feels like you’re trying to open an umbrella up there.”

We all laughed.

“OK, that was a very British thing to say. We’d never say that in OZ. It hardly ever rains.”

“Oh god.” She started to repeat as I worked deeper and picked up the speed.

With long thrusts that used my entire length, she froze, then started to push back to greet me. Pushing me to go harder and faster.

Her mantra became nearly impossible to understand as she got closer and closer to her orgasm. I was sweating a bit now and spots of sweat dripped onto her back and buttocks. Suddenly, I pulled out and dropped down and forced my face between her thighs to flick my tongue over her clit. She gasped and started to shudder and I quickly return to fucking her as her orgasm hits and seems to go on and on.

I stop when I realise just how close I was to cumming myself and get my breath back. She trembles and little twitches explode inside her with aftershocks.

“Are you ok?”

“Fuck, more than ok.” She reached over to touch our hostess. “You really are in for a treat. I’m not sure I could take that often, but wow.”

She walked on her hands and knees and disappeared behind the curtain.

So we’re done to one.

Taking my time to wash up, this time I need to wash my face, chest and armpit. I heard a kiss and 5 saying what a nice party, then the door opened and closed in the dining room.

“Are you still there?” Our hostess asks, a little nervously.

“Of course, just making sure I’m clean for you.”

I moved over to caress her breasts, and she jumps then giggles.

“Sorry, this isn’t something I’ve done before.”

“That’s ok, but we don’t really need this anymore, do we?” I pulled the sheet from covering her face and she looked surprised.

“It’s not like we don’t know who the other is now, is it? Isn’t it just you, me, and your husband left?”

“Good point. Hang on.” She got up and tiptoed out of the door, naked.

Ok, she was never in 5’s category, but she was a fine-looking woman and had looked after her figure. She returned a few moments later, walking normally, and gestured for me to come. I reached for my clothes, but she shook her head and held a finger up for silence.

She led me to another room where Alan was passed out with his whisky glass on the floor. Luckily, the thick lamb skin rug had stopped it from breaking.

“I don’t think a bomb under him would wake him now.”

She moved to put her back to my chest and pulled my hands around to caress her stomach and breasts. Then pressed one between her legs. As I finger her folds, she reached behind herself to wank me.

“I’ve often fantasised about doing this. Having him watch me with a younger lover. But I suppose I’ll have to make this up to him some way. I might have to turn a blind eye the next time he brings number 5 here. I know they fuck at work from time to time.”

“She works for him. But that’s more than you need to know. Apart from the fact that she’s married, but he’s not part of the crowd.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Mind is a difficult thing. What we do here is hardly normal, so it’s complicated and let’s leave it like that. Now I promised to show you the rest of the house.”

“I seem to remember you mentioned a bedroom. Got to be more comfortable than that bench.”

She led me to a large bedroom, and I cringed at the flounciness of it.

“This is my room. Alan has his own. I could no longer stand his snoring. And we don’t have sex that much anymore.”

“Would you like me to do something about that?”

“More than anything.”

She leant on the bed, and I worked it inside her.

“Maureen wasn’t exaggerating how it feels. Your wife must be very happy.”

“Happy with another guy. But hopefully happy.”

“Sorry.”

“Look, I know this is a bit weird, but I can’t keep calling you the sexy hostess.”

“Claire.” she replied and put her hand under her body to shake my hand.

“That’s a bit formal, given the circumstances.”

“Too true. How about this?” she pulled off me and threw herself down on her back.

Then showing astonishing flexibility. Put her ankles behind her head.

“See anything you like the look of cobber?” The Ozzie accent is atrocious. “Want a shrimp for the Barbie?”

“No, but I like the look of that fish pie.”

I grabbed her hips and slid her across to the edge of the bed, then knelt and dug in. As I’ve stated earlier, I’m a larger than average guy and that means my tongue is longer and very popular with the ladies. Something that Claire was learning and loving at the same time. While I would have preferred to be doing this to number 5, Claire was a responsive and active lover.

After her first orgasm on my fingers and tongue, she was like a woman possessed. Demanding and getting sex in as many positions as she could think up. After everything else I’d done that night, I’m only human, and warned her I was about to cum. She demanded I give her a pearl necklace.

Something she might have reconsidered after the mess I made. I’d hate to think what it would have been like if Tanya hadn’t emptied the sack the previous night. But Claire took it in her stride. Scooping up cum and eating it, then dragging me into the ensuite.

We cleaned up, then I fucked her against the tiles. Her legs wrapped around me and loving I was strong enough to hold her up and fuck her at the same time. But that’s never an easy position, as showers and baths can be slippery. I’m just saying.

I got the impression that she was like I’d been earlier. Too much choice and only a limited time. At one point when we were resting, she went to the toilet and left the room. Only to come back with her phone and a video camera on a tripod.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you mind if I took some photos of us together? And perhaps you could rig the video camera to the TV. So I can watch us doing it?”

“And where will the photos go?”

“Just me to remember in my old age. Or older age.”

I wrestled her about and promised I’d show her she wasn’t old.

“And I might want to show a few selected friends. But only ones that don’t show our faces.”

I rigged up the TV, but the camera would only display on the screen if it was recording, so I hit record and made sure it covered the bed.

Claire and I took dozens of photos, starting off with her licking my flaccid dick. Through until it was fully hard, and she tried and failed for a deep throat shot. But nobody had managed that with me. She posed squatting over me with my head pressing against her opening, and I have to admit that I did look big. But she was a relatively petite woman. Then shots as she sunk down and close-ups of her buried up to the hilt.

We related those shots with her on her back and her ankles behind her head. The shots of her labia stretching open to get me inside were good. Then again, but from behind. One showing her distended pussy as I pulled back, and it didn’t want to let me go.

Then we put the camera aside, and she watched herself on TV as I fucked her from behind. She insisted I fill her with cum, then photograph the cream pie and shots of her scooping cum from her pussy and eating it.

“You know all this is on video as well.”

“Really?” she looked at the camera and giggled. “I suppose I should hide the tape from Allen. Speaking of which, I’ve got another shot I want.”

She jumped up and turned off the video and the TV.

“OK, I want you to promise something.”

“Anything. What?”

“I want a shot that looks like you about to fuck my arse. But not to do it. Pressing up against me, but not inside. Right?”

“OK.”

“Promise?”

“Fine, I’ve enjoyed my night and loved my time here with you. I’ve no intention of fucking it up by being a giant dick.”

“It’s your giant dick I’m worried about.” We grinned, shot on the bed, and knelt in front of me.

“I’m trusting you.”

“I’m very trustworthy. At least now.”

“Now?” she asked, worried.

“Back when I hung out with Tony, I was not a good guy. That guy would promise and then break his word at the drop of the hat. Now I’m mature and a far better person.”

I nested the head against her opening and applied a little pressure.

“Careful.”

“That’s all the pressure I’m gonna use. Enough to press your sphincter in, without trying to invade it.”

“Invade it the right word. I think it would be like a tank platoon to do it for real.”

I took the photo and showed it to her.

“Good?”

“Excellent. That’s for the time when Alan goes too far and I can show him what I did. I’ve never let him take my bum. It’s a bit of a personal question, but have you ever done it back there?”

I chuckled. “Claire, we’re naked, fucked in a dozen different positions, and my dick is right up against your darkest orifice and you think that’s personal. The answer is yes, but only twice. There are downsides of a larger than average dick.”

“Any many upsides?”

“I’ve had more than one woman take a look and run away. One literally ran away. She was halfway down the street before she realised she was naked.”

“I want to go again, but I need a nap to recuperate.” She replied.

“In that case, I’ll go. I don’t think Alan is happy with us. But I’ll be back in Oz in a few weeks. You’re stuck here.”

“You’re only here briefly?”

“Family event. First time home in 15 years, then back home in about 3 weeks.”

“Damn. That’s too soon to have another party.”

“You have the memories and a heck of a lot of smutty photos.”

“Yeah, but now I’m thinking I really do want you to take my bottom.”

“Trust me, you don’t. Much as it sounds kinky, taboo and hot. You’re a nice lady and I’d not want to hurt you, even if you think you want it. Of the two I did, one was a size queen. She had dildos bigger than my fist inside her. The other was drunk and threatened to report me to the police. Luckily, she had a penchant for video and I had a video of her begging me. Then stopping the moment she realised it hurt.

“OK, I suppose it’s for the best. Want me to call you a cab?”

“Please, I’ve no idea where I am.”

Claire dialled my taxi, and I dressed, kissed her goodbye and left to wait outside. Just as I was paying the taxi outside my bedsit, my phone beeped. But I ignored it. Inside the bedsit I flopped on the bed exhausted. I was after 3 am and my phone beeped again. I pulled it out and was annoyed about who would message me at that time of night.

If it was one of my Ozzie mates, he was going to get a shock at his bill. But it wasn’t I’d no idea about the number, but it was 2 picture messages, both of Claire sucking my cock. I messaged her thanks, but where had she got my number? She replied she’d contacted Tony, and he grudgingly gave her the number.

I asked why I got the photos and she said, as I was the star. I deserved copies. Provided I was discrete. And did I want them all? Or course I did, but I was asleep before my phone stopped beeping as each new one arrived.

I woke annoyed by my phone beeping and glared at it, only to discover it was 11:30 am. It was my sister, entered in the phone contacts as ‘junior pain’ reminding me to stay out of sight until that evening. I reread the magazines and spend some time saving the photos from the messages to the photo store. I thought twice about syncing with the cloud, but I’d hate to lose the photos if I lost or had my phone stolen.

I spent a long time getting ready, shaving twice and using some aftershave my ex had bought me for my last birthday. Called a cab to the golf club and called my monster, I mean my sister, to check about my entrance. She told me to come around the back of the clubhouse and she’d be on the balcony.

I saw someone who waved, and she said it should be 5 minutes. Which was closer to 20. But that was typical of my sister from when she was a kid. She never could get anywhere on time.

My entrance was as dramatic as I might have hoped. I’d bought a giant bouquet and a bottle of vintage champagne. I recognised many of the faces, nobody but mum recognised me. She nearly bowled over a friend and she ran to me in tears. Shockingly, dad wasn’t that much better. Emotional, hardly covered it and I heard the buzz around the room from their friends that the prodigal son had returned.

Black sheep skulking home was closer to the mark. I recognised my sister only from her sour expression at our parent’s reaction. But it had been 15 years, and she wasn’t 16 anymore. I guessed the guy next to her was her husband. There were two kids of indeterminate age running about, but I was battered by too many questions to think much.

I promised to fill my parents in on everything in time. I had weeks before I went home and tonight was their night. But my mum refused to let go of my hand for nearly two hours. As if holding it anchored me to her reality. All her friends were there and queued to wish them well and enjoy their retirement.

I managed a couple of beers, but with mum clinging onto one hand, it was hard.

When Josie started to hand out cake, mum finally released me and I took the chance to look at her properly. Gone was the puppy fat and acne. She was slim and toned. Attractive even. No, I corrected myself, my sister was a beauty, and I never had a clue. I felt a twinge of loneliness and thought of my ex. She was pretty and without thinking, my right hand fingered where I’d worn my wedding band for 2 years.

My sister saw this as she put a plate in front of me and froze. I frowned as she paled and clasped her hand to her chest. I opened my mouth to ask if she was ok. Then I noticed under her cropped top was a jade bead on a silver ring though her belly button.

I think the world stopped for an instant. Super nova’s ceased to explode and black holes went silent. I looked into her eyes and we knew what had happened. Dad asked if she was OK and she blurted out she must have drunk too much. She ran off, and I offered to check on her and rushed after.

Instead of the ladies, she’d fled to the balcony overlooking the 18th green. And was pacing back and saying ‘oh god’ again and again. It brought up intense memories of her saying that repeatedly as I fucked her just the other night.

She glowered at me and tried to punch me. I stepped aside easily.

“How could you?”

“What do you mean?”

“The other night, you…”

“And how the fuck could I know it was you?” I spoke with a lowered tone as we didn’t anyone else to know we’d fucked.

She tried to punch and kick me. So I wrapped her in a bear hug and lifted her off the ground easily.

“Calm down.”

“How the fuck can I calm down?” Then she realised she was too loud. “You fucked me!”

“After you sucked my dick. Are you going to be rational here if I put you down?” She glared at me and for a moment, I thought she might bite my ear off.

I increased the pressure on my squeeze as I’d done as a kid to get her to behave. But I had thousands of hours of manual labour and gym time to make the pressure many times worse if I needed to.

“OK bear stop. I prefer my ribs where they are.”

Bear had been a nickname I’d not heard since she was 12 or 13. I reduced the pressure, but didn’t let her go just yet.

“What happened, happened. We can’t take it back. We can try to forget or pretend it didn’t happen. But it did. We live with or it fucks up your life. OK?”

“You’re OK with what happened?”

“As I recall, I attended a weird party and everyone was supposed to be anonymous.”

“Really?” she asked as her feet hit the ground and I released her. Realising that holding her like that was a bit suspect.

“Look, Josie, nobody died, nobody got hurt. It’s fair to say that everybody enjoyed it. So we deal with it one way or another. But not tonight. Tonight is mum and dad’s night. You spent so much time and effort organising it. Dragged your knuckle dragging brother from the other side of the world. Don’t fuck it up. Tomorrow, we can let the world explode, if it wants to.

“I had a mate, Dale, when I got my first bike. An old time biker who lost a leg and his life lesson was to not let regret for making a mistake stop you from moving on. Learn from your mistakes, but never let them hold you back with regret. Pop to the ladies and fix your makeup. Tell our parents it was just wind and pretend everything is fine.”

She stepped back and punched me rather hard on my pectoral muscle, then shook her hand in pain. I let her have that one, and we made a point to avoid being near each other for the rest of the night. By the time I got home, I was exhausted from telling the same stories over and over again about what happened and where I’d been.

I drank a few more tinnies and flopped into bed. Only to be woken by my phone beeping. I could have thrown it out of a window. But I saw it was after 11 am and it was my sister.

‘Where are you? We need to talk.’ followed by another. ‘In private.’

I replied with my address and she replied to say to stay there and she’d be there in an hour. Feeling like I was awaiting the executioner, I used the bathroom and tidied up. My brief domestic experience taught me if you are going to have an argument. Don’t let there be any additional reason for a woman to get mad. Dust, vacuum and clean up if it removes any ammunition they can throw at you.

I sat on the bed, but heard a car pull and saw my sister. She was pressing the bell that didn’t seem to work, and I opened the window and dropped my keys down to her. She stomped into the bedsit with a carrier bag and looked about.

“Is this it?”

“The bathroom is on the landing. But it’s about 8 times bigger than my rig.”

“I can’t believe this, any of this. You really drive a giant truck?”

“Road train with up to 200 tons on my back.”

“Fuck! OK, this is gonna be a long and hard conversion. I’ve wine and it’s mandatory. Glasses?”

I got tall boy glasses, which seemed to fit the need. I’d have used pint glasses if I had any. With nothing to sit on but the bed, we sat side by side.

“Where do we start? 15 years of exile or the other night?” She said, filling both glasses.

“Let’s try the regular family stuff first. Regardless of what else happens, I’m here for our parents for 3 weeks. We need to fake it for them.”

“OK, I’ll start. I’ve been married to Patrick for 9 years. You have a niece, Kylie and a nephew, Nathan 7 and 4, respectively. Meeting them and being a good uncle is not negotiable. OK.”

“Sure I love kids. Never been able to eat a whole one but…” she glowered at the feeble joke.

“Still an arsehole when it comes to jokes, I see.”

“Sis, this is mega weird. My reaction is always to joke, so it doesn’t hurt so much. Go on.”

“I’m an accountant, or I should say work in an accounts department, as I remember you were such a pedant. And a fucking maths whizz. What’s 15% of 540?” She asked.

“81.” I replied a moment later.

“How the fuck to you do that and how did you end up the family fuck up?”

“The answer to both is easy. 10% of 540 is 54 and 5% is half that, so 27. At the two together and it’s 81. The second part is, one of us had to be the fuck up and I already had done the leg-work.”

“You never explained why you took the blame and fucked off out of our lives like that?”

“I loved my sister…”

“I think the other night proved just how much you loved your sister.” She said with heat.

“Stop.” I used a low and intense voice. It’s got me out of a hell of a lot of fights when it’s said right.

Almost like it stroked a primal fear. Or I’ve read too many comic books.

“Josie, fighting and recriminations aren’t going to do anything but make matters worse. You asked why I threw my life away and the answer was you. I’d blotted my copybook with the law and our parents. I wasn’t about to let you do the same. You know dad’s attitude to drugs after what I did.

“I’m amazed you had any at 17 and left them lying around. Heck, if you’d come to me, and I couldn’t talk you out of it, not only could I have gotten them cheaper and safer. I could have told you how to hide them. Dad was on a crusade, and you’d have been collateral damage. You had your whole life in front of you. So I took the bullet.”

“Seriously, you burned your whole life, your friends and stuff for me?”

“It wasn’t that big a deal.” Which was a transparent lie. “Look, I was heading down a darker path than I wanted. Saw little chance of exit and rolled a big dice to see if it would work out in the end, and it did.”

That was more honest and open than I usually allow myself to be. I was shocked when Josie hugged me and I heard tears.

“I still think you’re a dickhead and a pervert.” She said as she sat back and wiped her eyes. “Where was I? Oh yes, Patrick is 3 years older, is an under manager in a bank and a wonderful husband and father.”

I wanted to ask if he knew about her parties, but kept silent for now.

“What about mum and dad?”

“Not much, really. They retired last year. As you know, I tried to get you to come home that time as well.”

“And I explained that surprise parties only work if the people are surprised. Which does not work if you do a surprise party for every event. Besides, I said I had urgent things I needed to fix.”

“More important than mum and dad?”

“More urgent. There was a huge fire, and I needed to sort stuff out.”

“Is a fireman one of your jobs now?”

“Fuck Josie, this is like your 14 again. I own land and have a house on it. A bushfire ran through the area and I needed to see if anything was left.”

“You own land? How much?”

“Not much, 200 hundred acres.”

“What’s that in numbers I might understand?”

“Call it about a third of a square mile.”

“Mile? That’s what in real numbers?”

“If it was square, just under a thousand yards square.”

“Fuck! That’s huge.”

“It’s tiny in Ozzie terms. I bought the land ten years ago. It was pretty worthless, a dried-up creek and a few interesting caves. I discovered a guy who pioneered land recovery with drought-tolerant plants that created shade and helped trap moisture in the soil. You’ve seen those terraced farms on mountain sides? He worked to create ways to slow down water when you got some. Giving it the chance to let it soak into the soil and reduce flooding.

“I did a load of that and left it alone for 5 years. When I went back, there were more plants that I’d not planted and insects and birds. So I did some more planting and improvements and now there is water in the creek all year round. In another few years, I might build some holiday homes to rent out.”

“Just like I don’t recognise my brother. Don’t get me wrong, but I’ve never heard you speak with such passion about anything before.” I shrugged awkwardly.

Passion reminded me of the other night and set my mind on a whole another track.

I filled her in on the dozens of jobs I’d done over the years and some of the things I’d done.

“You’re married?” She exclaimed.

“Not anymore.”

“Sorry. How long ago?”

I looked at my ring finger and saw the indentation that was still there.

“About a month ago. I came home from a long trip to find my wife entertaining.” I didn’t need to be explicit.

“What happened?”

“The guy went over the balcony. Don’t worry, he was ok. Mostly.”

“And your wife?”

“I just grabbed a few things and left her to it.”

“It must have hurt.”

She hugged me again, and I struggled not to think about her breasts from the other night.

“Do you mind not doing that?”

“I can’t hug my brother?”

“After the other night, it’s not a good idea.”

“Sorry. Was the divorce hard?”

“Surprisingly not. I got drunk, did a few stupid things and called her a few days later. We talked it through like grown-ups and agreed to go our separate ways.”

Josie looked at her hands.

“So…” she started, then got up to refill the wine.

“Yeah, the other stuff. Where to start? My side is simple. I got in touch with Tony to see the lay of the land and make sure I wasn’t stepping on anyone’s toes. He took me out and got me drunk, then the following night he took me to the party without telling me what it was. I’ve no idea how you come into it. Wait, should I have mentioned Tony by name?”

“It’s fine. The ladies all talk so we know each other. Anyway, I’ve known him almost as long as you have. We even dated briefly.”

“And he doesn’t recognise you?”

“It was a long time ago and I’ve changed. And besides, we never went further than kissing and first base. Is this weird we’re talking about my love life?”

“Given that I inadvertently became part of it, the weirdness is just going to get worse. So, how did you get involved?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got weeks. So go ahead. I think at this stage we can’t hide behind our blushes.”

“Just after we conceived Nathan, Patrick started to complain about a pain in his balls. At the time, I thought he was just hinting I wasn’t giving him enough blow jobs. I had bad morning sickness and sex was out.”

“Sorry to interrupt already, but where did my sister learn to be that good at blow jobs?”

She blushed. “A girl has to have some secrets. God, this is hard. Not just talking about oral sex with my brother, but him knowing how I do it. You answer me a question. Did I get you close?”

“Shit, sis. So close. Another 30 seconds and I’d have blown. I’ve had more than my share of blow jobs, even by some professionals, and yours was the best hands down.”

“Thanks, I think. Not something I’d expected to be complimented on by my brother.”

“Tony said he only lasted by chewing the inside of his cheek.”

“Really, I might have to try something new next time.”

I wanted to ask, after that happened, why she’d continue, but remained silent.

“Anyway, I suspect that most of the others have a cheeky wank just before the party to try to make them last. But I was talking about Patrick. He went to the doctors eventually and was diagnosed with testicular cancer. They got in time, but lost both his balls. It was a horrible time, as I was weeks away from giving birth when he went in for his operation.

“That’s rough, sis. It must have been awful.” I squeezed her free hand, and she gave a sniffle.

“It was, but he got through it. But not without issues?”

“What? He couldn’t…” I gestured hard-on.

“No, that worked ok, provided he uses a testosterone patch every day. It was more psychological. He didn’t think of himself as a man any more. He can still orgasm, but not ejaculate. I tried to get him to talk to councillors, but he hates that sort of thing. But it got so bad he suggested we split so I could be with a real man. While he kept supporting us.”

“That’s bad.”

“I even worried he might do something stupid like harm himself. Men are so stupid at times.”

“You’re preaching to the choir sister.” I held my hand up for a high-five. She glared at me. “What I mean is women don’t own the copyright on neurosis over sex and self-image. A man and his relationship to his orgasm is deep and complicated. Want me to talk to him?”

“What makes you an expert? The brother I knew would crawl through broken glass naked rather than discuss emotional stuff.”

“That was 15 years ago. A lot of water under the bridge. I’ve got a story about two guys I know, Bluey and Roo.”

“Seriously? How Aussie is this story?”

“Bluey is really Keith. But he and a mate were deep water fishing and drunk and messing about in the boat. Not a good idea. Something happened and the next thing he knows is a fishing hook as big as my finger hooks through his scrotum and rips it open and severs both balls. Everyone was drunk and panicking. Someone scooped them up and put them in the ice with their beer.

“They turn back to port, but it’s about 2 hours and they call the coast guard who came to get him. It still took an hour and a half to get him to the Hospital. But by then they found his balls were frozen solid and impossible to reattach. Normally, people with ginger hair are called Bluey, but in this case, I think you can guess why he got the nickname.”

Josie frowned, then shook her head in amusement. “He’s Bluey, because he literally had blue balls. Jesus, how crap is that?”

“I didn’t name him. But he adopted it and even bribed someone to pickle them in formaldehyde and he carried them around in a little glass jar. Used them as a conversation piece. Although you have to watch him when he’s drunk as he would threaten to drop them into your drink.”

“Ew!”

“Yep. Anyway then there was Roo, or Rupert. He was like Patrick. Cancer, blah, blah, blah. Only he took to drinking and ended up assaulting his wife and got two years in prison. Lost his wife and kids, as well as his home, because he couldn’t adjust.”

“How is that a good story to help, Patrick?”

“Because Bluey recognised that an orgasm is not what makes you a man. That is being there for your kids and wife. If she came home from work tired, he’d give her a foot rub if the kids were there. And if they were out, he’d give her a full body massage with a happy ending. He even went to the effort of hiring two lesbian hookers…”

“For his wife or him?”

“His wife, indirectly. Who better to master cunnilingus than a professional? After that, I never saw his wife without a smile on her face and she was more in love with her husband than ever. I didn’t know about the hookers at the time when I drunkenly asked his wife their secret. She talked to Bluey and arranged to show me.”

“Show you? Not tell you?”

“Turns out she had a thing about me before she met Bluey. She was a bit of an exhibitionist, so I’d already seen her topless and she had a fantasy of having someone watch her. So I watched as Bluey gave me a master class on cunnilingus with his wife’s commentary on the side.”

“So you just watched?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t going to try to step in and fuck up their marriage. And I was doing it as a prop to help fix up my marriage. Not that it worked, even if she commented I was suddenly a lot better.”

“Perhaps she thought you were cheating?”

“I’d not thought about that. I should have explained it to her. But what I’m saying is Bluey threw himself into pleasing his wife and got his manliness back from that. That was the point for Patrick. Does he know about those parties?”

“Of course. It was his idea, in a way. Look, this bit is a bit more uncomfortable and I don’t want to see you looking at me. Can we lie back on the bed and look at the ceiling?”

“Patrick suggested I find a lover, but that felt too much like cheating.”

“Sorry to say this, sis, but how are the parties not?”

“We never normally have actual sex. Normally, it’s some sexy naughty fun. A little nudity, some touching, and I go home excited and tell Patrick about it and hopefully I get a chance to regain my husband for a bit.”

“You missed out on the blow jobs and fingering. Does he know that bit?”

“Actually, I exaggerate it. He thinks I have full sex each time. Before the other night, technically I’d not fucked a guy at the party.”

“Technically? That sounds like a cop-out.”

“OK, about my second or third party, during the women’s bottomless round, a guy did what you did and turned me around. But he got me to bend over and before I knew it he managed to ram his dick partway inside me. I screamed in shock and the other men dragged him away and threw him out. His wife went ballistic and I think they got divorced.”

“Is that it?”

“I suppose Alan counts, but I’ve never fucked him at a party.”

“You’ve had sex with him?”

“OK, let me explain. A little over two years ago, coming up to Christmas, Patrick was really depressed, and I was desperate to figure out what to do. When I attended our company Christmas party at Alan’s house. It’s a big house, as you know, and I was driving, because with a two-year-old at home, I didn’t fancy a hangover.

“I was in the hall hanging out when I heard two women talking about Alan’s parties and I realised one woman was explaining it was a sex party. I couldn’t believe it but she was trying to persuade her friend to talk her husband into it. I peeked into the room to see a pair of women in their 50s. They didn’t see me and I learned a lot.

“Towards the end of the night, I found Alan sitting in a room alone and I asked him about the parties. He blustered and denied it, but I kept telling him details from the woman and he tried to claim one woman was winding the other up. But he wasn’t selling it. I knew he’d fancied me from the day I got the job and I may have used my feminine wiles to try to talk him around.

“I told him about Patrick’s problem and how if I attended a party, it might help him. Alan said he’d think about it and declared it was time to end the party. On Christmas Eve, when most of the office was getting ready for the holidays, he called me into his office. He said he was very reluctant to talk about something so private when it might leak out. Especially someone outside his social circle.

“I asked if there was anything to prove I was reliable and discreet. He smiled and said that if a person were to pull their skirt up and sit on his desk with their legs apart, he might think about it. It was naughty, and I’d not have satisfactory sex for 2 years. So I did it. Sitting there with my panties on display. Alan was sitting at his desk and could have reached out to touch me.”

“Did he?”

“No, not that time. I felt myself getting very wet, partially for doing it in front of my boss, and that we were at work and someone could walk in on us. I’d never had a rush like that before. After a few minutes of looking, he picked up his mobile phone and started to fiddle with it as if I wasn’t there.”

“That’s a bit rude. I know from experience I’d not look away.”

“I realised what he was doing, and I needed to do more to convince him. So I glanced at the door and unbuttoned my blouse and opened it to show off a sexy new bra. Alan was speechless. He’d been trying to sneak a peek for years.”

“To be fair sis, you tits are world class. I’ve seen millions and yours are superior to any others I’ve ever seen.”

“Millions? Yeah, right?” She replied sarcastically.

“I’m a single guy with access to the internet. So it’s only 1/2 a million woman, as they generally come in pairs. Plus, there are lots of topless beaches in Oz.”

“OK. But it worked. My boobs mesmerised him into telling me about the parties and earned me an invitation to the next one if I wanted. I told him I needed to talk to my husband, and I’d let him know. Patrick was excited about the idea, as he’d always had a fantasy about showing my body off to others. Which came as a surprise to me.”

“I can’t say I blame him. It’s like having the Mona Lisa and not letting anyone know what a lucky bastard you are.”

“At the time there weren’t that many couples and Tony provided one or two professionals to pad the numbers and they would do more than the wives might do. Anyway, the first party he went without professionals and it was a little tame to test the waters and see if I was up for it. Kissing and touching, but not fingering or blow jobs. Just hand jobs. And I loved it and so did Patrick. He practically begged me to go to the next one.

“He pointed out that the advantage of the parties and the group was I was less likely to get emotionally involved like if I took a single lover. Which I’d not considered at the time.”

“Actually, that makes sense. I’m not sure I could be detached to go with my partner though.” I replied.

“I have to admit at first I found it sexy fun. But I gradually found I loved the attention and the rush from it. Being naked and touched by pseudo strangers was so hot. Plus, being the youngest woman and lusted over each time was intense. The money was just a bonus.”

“I was a bit worried about that, you getting paid…”

“It’s not like that!” She snapped.

“Sorry, it’s just…”

“I’d keep going at this stage even without the cash. I’m sort of addicted to it. Anyway, we use the money for family holidays. Patrick doesn’t know the money comes from the parties. I’d pay it into my bank and claim it was just a work bonus.”

“What about Alan, you know Claire knows about the pair of you?”

“I thought as much. We’ve not been as discrete as we should have been. How do you know Claire’s name?”

“After I’d…”

“After you’d fucked your sister to multiple orgasms.” Josie said.

“OK, but neither of us knew the other person. Anyway, after you left. I took the sheet away as I knew it was our hostess from her shoes. She checked on Alan to find him passed out and took me to her bed for comfort. Had some fun and took some photos…”

“Can I see them?” She asked eagerly, rolling on her side to look at me.

I picked up my phone, then hesitated. “I really should get her permission, really.”

“How?” she asked. They mimed using a phone. “Hello Claire, I’m lying on my bed with number 5, who turns out to be my sister. Mind if I show her our fuck photos?”

“Good point. You really want to see them?”

“It’s not like I’ve not seen her naked. Or you, for that matter. Which is weird.”

“But explicit photos of us fucking?”

“It’s not like I don’t know what fucking you felt like.”

“I’ll think about it. You said you’ve not fucked before at these parties. Why the other night?”

“It was you.”

“Why me?”

“Everyone else but Tony and I are older, middle-aged couples. Having us there makes it more exciting for them. Spices up their sex lives. But when it’s the same people every time. This plateau. Having a new guy who was a big hit in every way lit the touch paper of all the women. Usually, the woman’s bottomless round has fewer participants and apart from Maureen and me the others don’t allow anything inside.”

“And the fucking?”

“Don’t let it go to your head, and this is nothing against my husbands, but your cock was the biggest I’ve seen outside porn. I knew I’d never forgive myself if I’d not tried it. After all, I’d been lying to Patrick and saying I’d had sex at each party. Doing it for real didn’t seem like such a big deal.

“Until you found the dick belonging to your long-lost brother.”

“I know. No matter how much I freaked out when I discovered that. It didn’t take away from the fact it was the best sex I’ve ever had in; ever.”

“I know that feeling. It’s Sod’s law on steroids. I finally found the perfect woman. A woman I’d be prepared to go halfway around the world to be with and she turns out to be married, and my sister. Which is a double kick in the shitter.”

“You think I’m perfect?”

“Ok, it’s your personality that loses you the perfect title. Physically and sexually, then yeah. Sorry, if it’s hard to hear, but even now I can’t stop thinking about you sexually.”

“Is that why I can see a bulge in your pants?”

“Sorry, but it was the best sex ever. The only downside was I couldn’t have you to myself instead of the other men and women there. I want to…”

“What? Cuz you did a heck of a lot.”

“I wanted to take you up and hold you in my arms. More than just sex, I wanted to be with you. Forever.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Sorry if that’s too much.”

“Actually, it’s kinda sweet. A bit soppy for you. But it makes me feel better. With the others, it’s just a bit of fun, but it’s deeper with you. Knowing you feel that way takes some of the curse off it.”

“What about Alan? You said you had sex, but not at the parties?”

“OK. I’m not so proud of this bit, and I’ve not told Patrick about it. He thinks I’ve already fucked him at the parties, so when it started I decided to not tell him. And now I don’t think I can. It was a little over a year ago. About half the guests cancelled at the last minute with a flu outbreak. But the party went ahead, with only 5 guys, including Alan.

“All four of the others didn’t make it past the blow job round, and Alan only made it because I was trying not to annoy his wife. As she knew he was sniffing around me.”

“Literally I bet. Your pussy did taste very tasty.”

“I can’t believe my brother knows what I taste like. Anyway, you know any guy who blows leaves the party, so the party ended early despite them begging to ignore that rule one time. I was really disappointed as I was looking forward to the next round. Alan wasn’t drinking that night as he had medical tests the next day and offered to drive me home.

“We both complained about how the evening had ended and I admitted I was so horny about missing out on being fingered. So he offered to help me out and got me to remove my panties in his car and reached over to finger me as he drove. It was nice, but kinda awkward for both of us. I offered to give him a blow job and he could cum that time. But he admitted he’d always wanted to go down on me properly. Instead of just a lick in front of his wife.

“When he suggested we divert via the office to have a little fun, I was all up for it. The time on his desk had left a fantasy to do it at work high on my list. He stripped me naked, and I knelt under his desk to suck him and finished the job properly that time. Then he lifted me onto his desk and went down on me.”

“Sorry sis.” I interrupted and pushed my hand into my pants to move my erection to a more comfortable position.

“It’s ok, well not really, but after the other night and the subject matter I understand. I’m a little moist myself.”

“Don’t tell me that!” I moaned, and she giggled.

“Anyway, he was lapping away at my juicy, hungry pussy.” She said, playing up the sexiness. “After he got me off, I was starting to recover when he stood and just put it in me.”

“Really. You didn’t stop him?”

“First, I’d been claiming to my husband we’d done it before, and second you saw me the other night, once I climax, I need more. So while it wasn’t ‘you’ sex, it was still good. But I think part of that was the location and the risk.”

“I know that. I dated a girl once who claimed she could only get off with the risk of getting caught.”

“Like where?”

“Beaches obviously. A construction site of a skyscraper. Overlooking an office full of people. We definitely were seen, but got finished and away before anyone came for us. The last time was on a balcony overlooking a sports bar. Someone, saw us and got the CCTV feed to show us fucking on every screen.”

“So you’re a porn star? It explains your size now.”

“Twice over, it seems.”

“What do you mean?”

“Claire has a video of us as well as the photos.”

“Damn, I wonder if I can persuade her to show me it next time we meet.”

“Isn’t it awkward around her with what you and Alan did?”

“Do.” She corrected me and sighed. “And given what we do at the parties, we sort of pretend things don’t happen. It is a fallacy, but we hide behind it. After that one time in the office, we started messing around at work. Nothing too bad.”

“Like what?”

“He’d call me into his office to review some figures I’d done. I’d stand next to his chair, and he’d slip his hand up under my skirt and fondle my bum or brush his finger over my pussy through my panties.” She giggled. “I remember I nearly wet myself when someone poked their head into his room to say the next appointment was waiting for him.”

“Did they see?”

“No, but they must have seen me flushed. Other times, I’d be in his chair and changing figures on the screen. He’d reach over my shoulder and slip his hand down my blouse and into my bra.” She looked over, and I saw she was looking at my crotch before looking away.

“I remember the look on his face when I said we had to stop doing stuff in the office. My relatively low position in the office didn’t justify the number of times I’d been in the office with him. You could tell he thought I was trying to screw him over to a promotion or something. It took quite some persuading to convince him I wasn’t.”

“Let me guess, something sexual?”

“It was stupidly dangerous when I think back, but I wasn’t thinking. I got topless and got under his desk and sucked him off while he played with my tits. After that, we limited it to once a month or so, but we also started to go back to his place when Claire was out. Oh god! This is worse than I thought when I lay it all out. Isn’t it?”

“It’s not great. First question is, do you have feelings for Alan? Remember Patrick’s comment about safety in a group?”

“No, not really. The sex is ok if I’m honest, but it’s that he takes charge and the rush from the risk.”

“And the risks are going up. You’re twisting things to fit a definition that suits you.”

“Meaning?”

“You twist the fact you claimed to have sex with Alan to justify having an affair.”

“It’s not an affair?”

“Are you fucking, just the two of you in secret and not telling Patrick? That sounds like an affair. And fucking your boss with his wife aware is extra dangerous. She could out your activities, force him to get rid of you or split up. Then the other night, you agreed to fuck a random stranger without a condom just because you liked the look of his dick.”

“Fuck! What if…”

“Don’t worry, after I left my wife, I got checked out just in case and I’m clean. But you were thinking with a hungry vag and not your brain.”

“What should I do?”

“Change jobs, stop seeing Alan and stop going to the parties.”

“I’m not sure I can. Does that make me a bad person?”

“I’d never think I’ll of you, sis. How about this, you like someone to take charge? Talk to Patrick and explain that to him. Tell him about your love of being shown off and then arrange for the pair of you to join a sex club.”

“Seriously?”

“The active members get health screening and you can wear masks if you want. Get stripped and touched, but under Patrick’s supervision. If you’re his to control, he doesn’t have to perform sexually, but can decide if you do or don’t. It may make him feel more like a man with every male and female lusting after you.”

“Women?”

“I almost feel it’s unfair to women in general to never have the chance to experience your oral skills.” Josie shuddered. “You ok.”

“Yeah, I just had a very intense image of being extremely naughty with a woman.”

“You like the idea. I can tell.” Josie blushed. “I’m just saying a club like that you can try anything you want without the consequences of involving friends.”

“Or family. Is that uncomfortable?” she nodded to my bulge. “It must be given your size.”

“It is.”

“I wouldn’t care if you made yourself more comfortable.” She said it trying to sound casual and looking away.

“Why?”

She glanced at me briefly. “If you won’t show me the photos of you and Claire. I wouldn’t mind another look at it. ”

“But the other night…”

“The other night I either had 11 other women vying to look and touch it. Or it was stuck in my mouth and I’d be crossed eyed looking at it. And then…”

“I know. I pounded your perfect pussy. You really just want to look?” She nodded. “What about your freak out the other night?”

“What about your mate, Dale? We can’t change what happened. You were right. Until I knew it was you. It was an amazing night. I cannot pretend it didn’t happen or that I totally loved it. You’ve been gone nearly half my life and you’re a virtual stranger. If I think of you as a long-lost friend, I can accept that.

“Now I’ve actually fucked people at a party. I want to get the details right to tell Patrick.”

“You’ve not told him yet?”

“No, with mum and dad’s party I’ve not had the chance.”

“Do you just want me to unzip?”

“If you’re offering, I’d love to see you fully naked. Seeing you a bit at a time isn’t the same.”

“You owe me!”

“Brother, I owe you more than I can ever repay by throwing your life away for me.”

“It’s worked out better for me if it hadn’t. Here, I’m not sure what I’d have done. Probably prison time, or worse.” I stripped off my shirt and watched Josie’s expression.

“OK, I’ve never really liked a big guy with muscles, but you look great.”

“Most of it is from real work and not just bulking up at the gym.” I was trying to be casual as I unfastened my trousers and dropped them and my boxers.

Josie inhaled sharply as her eyes locked on my erection. After long seconds, she gestures I should turn around.

“Even I got embarrassed by some comments about your bum.” I flexed my muscles and turned back to face her.

“I heard some.”

“You know, I think you hit the DNA jackpot.”

“Right back at you, sis.”

She padded the bed next to her.

“Come and lie next to me so I can get a closer look.”

The part of my brain that usually warned me when something was wrong. Was currently in a different state, if not another time zone.

I lay on the bed within reach of my sister and watched as a tiny drop of pre-cum emerged from my erection.

“God, you do not know how sexy that is. I’ve never seen a guy wank before.”

“Really?”

“OK, a few strokes, but they stop in case they cum.”

“If you’re there while they do it and naked. Or even a little naked. I can’t say I blame them.”

“Would you do it for me?”

“Seriously?”

“Please, for me?”

I reached down, and she stopped me.

“Wait, I need to gauge how big it is.”

She held her hand out and placed the heel of her hand against my crotch and extended her hand up alongside it. Her fingers touched me for a moment and apologies as I flinched.

“That’s about a hand and half, long. And; may I?” I nodded to agree regardless of what she wanted.

Her thumb and middle finger curled around the shaft. Barely touching me, but it still felt like fires of pleasure from her touch. She moved further down the bed to get a closer look at the gap between her fingertips.

“OK, that explains a lot. I’d need a second thumb to get all the way around.”

She tried to show, but in doing so moved her other fingers, wanking me a little.

“Sorry, you were supposed to do that.”

I replaced her fingers with my hand and stroked myself. Peeling back the foreskin to reveal the nearly purple glans beneath.

“Fuck, that’s so sexy. I’ve no idea why, but seeing that reminds me of aliens exploding from your chest. But in a sexy way.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that.”

“A woman’s body doesn’t change that much for sex. Stiff nipples and clit. A little puffiness of the labia and that’s about it. You have a floppy sausage thing between your legs most of the time. Then you get this! A scary monster that is scarcely good and overriding my brain and overriding my libido.”

I was wanking slowly and trying to think of stubbing my toe against the bed legs, or a fat granny on a topless beach.

“Stop.” She said, and I froze. “You’ve got too much pre-cum. Wipe some up and spread it over the head.”

I did as she requested and watched the glans glistened. Josie bit her lip.

“Get some more.” There was plenty leaking out.

I was about to add more to my skin, when she pulled my hand off and closer to her face.

“I’ve never really studied it. I mean, I’ve seen it but…” She leant closer and sniffed it then shivered.

“OK?”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just a very potent smell.”

“Bad?” I asked.

“No, it. OK. When I was a girl, cum was icky and gross. Mine or anyone else’s. Then I got older, and I accepted it without loving it. When I got married, my mind switched to loving it. Not knowing that I’d be robbed of it after his condition.”

She surprised me by lapping the pre-cum off my fingertip.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” She started to shake, and I grabbed her and pulled her into my arms.

“It’s ok.”

“No it’s not. It’s fucked up. All I can think about is your dick. I want to suck it, I want to fuck it. I even want you to take my virgin arse. And I know that’s terrible on every level. I’m out of control.”

As she said that, her hand wrapped around my shaft to wank me.

“Stop.” I managed to say. Torn between doing the right thing and supporting my sister and giving into pleasure.

She started to cry, and I slipped off the bed and quickly redressed, then took her into my arms again. Swearing mentally, that I’d missed a chance for sex with the most wonderful girl in the world. But the most wonderful girl in the world was my sister and blood is thicker than water. A rebellious part of my mind asked if it’s thicker than cum.

After ten minutes, she pulled herself together and sat up.

“You OK?” I asked.

“No, I’m fucking not!” she snapped.

“What can I do?”

“Do you really want to know?” I nodded. “If you won’t let me fuck you, you could at least get me off. If I try to drive home now, I’m likely to kill someone.”

I chuckled, then held my hand up to mollify her.

“How about I show you what Bluey taught me? Then you can teach Patrick what I learned. I promise it’s worth it.”

Josie’s reply was to jump up and struggle to tug off her jeans. I pushed her onto the bed and knelt, removed her shoes and then her jeans and panties. She gave me a look that combined nervousness, and lust. Pressing her legs apart, I marvelled at my first true look at her pussy.

The memory of the photos of Claire as I fucked her forced their way into my head. But replaced with the image of my fat dick pressing in there. I shook my head then spent 30 minutes proving Bluey had spent his money wisely. Hiring specialists was a brilliant idea.

Something that my trembling sister finally agreed with after three orgasms.

“Bruce. I think I know why you drive a truck now. It would be too awkward to deal with the thousands of women swarming your house when they know you can do that. Fuck me.”

“I wanted to. I want to.” I corrected.

Josie hugged me hard. “I know Bruce. I want to. More than anything. Do you think we can hold out for the time you’re here?”

“If we’re never alone, then probably.”

“Want me to blow you?”

I shook my head as my body screamed denial, and she left.

Finding a gym that accepted walk-in people, I worked out with weights. At first impressing the other people, then amazing them as I piled on the weight. I was punishing myself for everything that had happened. It was stupid, but I needed the pain.

It was only after I finished that the cute receptionist slipped me a card for a massage parlour I might like. For a moment, I considered calling Tony and getting Tanya’s contact details. But I could only vaguely remember if she was any good or not.

I got a painful massage from a fat Korean guy who would have earned good money with the Stasi. Then headed to my parents. After about a dozen cups of tea, trying to fill 15 years of my life in a single session. Dad had mellowed, or accepted like I did, that moving to Oz was better for me than staying. I got away, to hit a pub.

It was tempting to get wrecked, but I’d not eaten at all. So headed to find a chip shop, hoping it was as good as I remembered as a kid. Finding it shut spoiled my mood, which was soured more, as I found another chippy and found four drunk teenage youths harassing the other customers.

A couple of younger, teenage girls seemed to be the focus of their attention. Cringing at the crude comments and causing an older man to fume, but his wife was holding him back. The first they noticed me was when I placed heavy hands on two of their shoulders.

They were too drunk to take in the full effect as they looked around and up. And I realised I’d made a mistake. Small drunk men stupidly see a big guy and decide to go for it. I got the chance to glance at the guy in charge of the chip shop and gestured to the phone before two of them rushed me.

The fight was short, but not unbloody. I got them outside, and when they produced blades of various forms, I put them down. One had a classic cut-throat razor and the rest parcel knives. A nastier proposition and one I knew how to deal with. It’s pretty simple. Violence!

I’m big, but not slow. Although not quick enough to go unscathed. But I figured the ending score was worth it. One puking from a kick in the balls, another unconscious from being introduced to a passenger window with his face at speed. And the last two cracked or broken ribs. I had a shallow cut just above my eyebrow that pissed blood and looked worse than it was.

And two slightly deeper cuts on my forearms. But the pain was burned away by my explosion of activity after what happened with Josie. The police arrived and arrested all five of us and we were taken to A&E to be treated.

Four butterfly stitches for my forehead. Which was a posh way of saying paper sticky things. But 12 old school fashioned stitches to my arms. The cuts weren’t deep but long, and unlike my forehead, they needed to be stronger to cope with the movement of my muscles in my forearms.

The doctor who did them apologised, but I just held out my scared and mutilated left hand.

“My legs are worse.” I added.

He was just finishing up when a familiar face walked into the cubicle, and I groaned.

“Well, well, well, a familiar face. Mr Byron Bruce Baker. Long-time no see.”

“Hello Mr Carter.” He’d been the one to arrest me and take me to court and nearly to prison.

“It’s Inspector now.”

“Congratulations. It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.” He looked at me. Expecting ridicule or sarcasm. “I mean it. You were a stand-up guy. Played fair and it wasn’t your fault I got off.”

He frowned and consulted a piece of paper before going in.

“We’ve not encountered you for over 15 years, so that means…”

“Australia.” I interjected. “I can give you references.”

“Actually, I don’t think I need to. We saw the shop’s CCTV and have witness statements that say you tried to stop them hassling people.”

I shrugged as well as I could as the doctor was finishing the last stitch.

“Hold still please?”