The 4 1/2 litre Bentley
Introduction:
Angela said choose, It was either the Bentley or her. I chose the Bentley and her friend Kitty’s pussy
“Hush,” I said, “I think it is mis firing again.”
“Ohhhhh!” she wailed as she always wailed, “You are impossible!”
“It’s this damned pool petrol,” I said, “Damned rationing, it’s all right for lorries and the like but too low octane for the Bentley, keeps fouling the plugs, do you hear?”
“No!” she snapped, “And why must you drive this, this, this relic!”
“It’s not a relic, it’s a Bentley four and a half litre!” I reminded her, “Nearly raced at Le Mans in 1929.”
“Oh my god not again,” Angela gasped and then finished my sentence, “Except it had a mis-fire!”
“Yes,” I agreed, “Exactly, there did you hear it?”
She shrugged and sulked, lord knows how we got engaged, Mummy said I must have been drunk, I don’t remember, I came home on leave from France in ’44 and next thing I found I was engaged to be married.
Mummy said she was a very decent catch, Cheltenham Ladies college and then the WRNS as a HQ telephonist, ‘Lovely gel,” Mummy said and I didn’t mind fighting the Hun, quite enjoyed it really, going against Mummy was a different thing entirely!
Suddenly Angela bellowed “Aggghhh, stop the car!” so I slammed on the brakes, the left front tyre locked and skidded and the car swerved horribly.
“Damn, the brakes need,” I said, but she was already climbing down from the car, “Angela?” I queried.
She stared at me from the roadside, “It’s me or the car, you choose!” she snapped.
“Angela!” I protested, “Mummy’s expecting us for dinner, we will be late, get in.”
“No!” she said, “I wont, either you get a proper car or you can find yourself a new girlfriend!”
“But Angela, how will you get to Mummy’s?” I asked.
“I won’t, I’ll go home!” she said angrily.
“But how?” I asked and it suddenly dawned on me that we were outside Shrewsbury railway station.
“Carrier Pigeon,” she snapped, “How do you think!” and she grabbed her case from the back seat and stormed off.
“Cripes,” I opined as I watched her go, “We’ll be one short for whist.”
“Excuse me!” someone said, “You can’t stop there sir!”
I looked round into the ruddy face of an ageing policeman, “Sorry?” I said.
“Can’t stop there sir,” he said, “It being the main road and all.”
“Cripes,” I said, “Girl just walked off,” I added.
“Yes sir,” he agreed, “I saw her, pretty little thing.”
“Says I need a better car,” I said.
“Cor lumme sir!” he said, “Bentley three litre, what could be better!”
I held my tongue, this was a four and a half, “Said it was the car or her.”
“Plenty more fish in the sea sir,” he said, “Girls I mean, got a taste for it when the GI’s were about, ten bob would get you quite a tasty number for the night.”
“Ten bob?” I thought hard, she could make up a hand at whist.
“Indeed sir,” he said, “Young Doris is in the waiting room now if you get my meaning sir.”
“Right,” I agreed.
“Can’t park here sir,” he said.
“Right, oh and thank you.” I said.
I decided to risk it and parked the Bentley, by the Taxi rank and went to the waiting room.
I saw a lady in a fur coat, “Are you Doris the prostitute?” I asked.
“No, I most certainly am not, I am Lady Fry,” the lady replied to my intense relief as she was as old as Granny P
“I’m Doris sir,” a young girl replied.
“Oh, will you spend the night with me only we need a fourth for cards,” I asked.
“I don’t do kinky sir,” she replied.
“No, not kinky sex,” I explained, “Whist.”
“A complete imbecile,” Lady Fry opined.
“All night sir, that’s a pound I’m afraid and a Taxi home,” she insisted.
“I’ll drive you, come along.” I agreed and she followed me out to the car.
“Oh sir, its a racing car!” she said when she saw the Bentley.
“Nearly raced at Le Mans in twenty nine,” I explained, “Bunty Brabbinger had her tootled up and couldn’t stop her pinking, then Argy Ardiles, Argentinian you know, filed the pistons down to reduce the compression ratio and.”Blam Pa Blam Pa,” the unsilenced exhaust drowned my explanation which was a shame as I told her everything even about when “Benson” Hedges had her and was shot down over Germany in his ‘Spit’ and when he came home in forty five he started her up and she kept misfiring so he advertised her in the Gazette and I bought her.
She was trying to say something as we left the town, “I can’t hear,” I said, “We lose the exhaust noise at seventy, hang on.” I put my foot down.
“Slow down sir for pities sake!” she wailed.
“Oh!” I replied.
“Look, why don’t we stop somewhere and have a fuck now, you’re all tense?” she said.
“No thanks,” I said, “Chap tried to do that to me in the army, not my cup of tea I’m afraid.”
“Then what do you want?” she asked awkwardly.
“Make up a four at Whist.” I explained, she cowered in the corner of her seat after that while I concentrated on making up lost time.
We hurtled into Wellington I think it was at nearly ninety, it seemed a shame to slow down when she was running so beautifully so I didn’t, poor Doris went a ghostly shade of white and then when we came to the hills I went down to third gear and charged up the inclines with a deafening roar from the unsilenced exhausts.
“You’re mad!” Doris opined.
“Yes Angela says the same,” I agreed.
“I need to stop for a pee,” Doris announced.
“Oh for cripes sake!” I said, “We’ll be late, can’t you pee in an empty petrol tin?”
“No!” she said abruptly.
“Why not?” I asked, “I do.”
“Well it’s easier for you blokes,” she suggested.
“How so?” I asked, and she looked at me in a most peculiar way.
“What with you having willies and that,” she explained.
“With having willies?” I said, “How do you mean?”
“You’re joking right?” she asked as she stared at me incredulously.
“What do you mean?” I asked in turn.
“Haven’t you seen a girl pee?” she asked.
“No, of course not!” I replied.
“Never seen one undressed neither?” she asked.
“Cripes no!” I explained, “Not the done thing.”
“Never seen a girl’s cunt?” she asked.
“What?” I asked.
“Cunt, vagina, twat, fuck hole,” she added.
“Not exactly, but Ginger Longhirst had some photos once.” I explained, “Some girls out in Burma.”
“Didn’t they show her cunt?” she asked.
“No, they showed her willy,” I explained.
“A girl with a willy?” she asked.
“Yes showing her willy, in Burma after the war,” I explained.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Oh yes with a group of sailors,” I confirmed
“Oh” she said, “I think you’ll find those were really men dressed as ladies.”
“Possibly,” I agreed, “But why?”
“Takes all sorts,” she said.
“But how can you know?” I asked.
“Proper girls don’t have willies,” she announced, “Didn’t you know?”
“Oh, gosh!” I said, “Cripes!” and I nearly forgot to swerve round a chap pushing a bicycle who fortuitously dived into the hedge to avoid me.
“They have cunts like mine,” she paused, “Haven’t you ever seen a cunt sir?”
“Fraid not, no,” I confessed in confusion, as the speed bled away as my mind reeled.
“Do you want to?” she asked.
“Not really,” I replied though my mind was spinning with the immensity of her revelations.
“That’s a cunt,” she said and she lofted her skirt and pulled her pants down revealing, well nothing for as I gasped in amazement, there was just this slit where her willy should have been.
I stared fixed at it for far too long, only the thumping of the wheels against a roadside drain that brought me back to reality and I stamped on the brakes to skid to a halt with the nearside front wheel locked up.
“Cripes,” I gasped, “Is it painful?”
“Only when someone pokes me before I’m ready,” she chuckled, “Do you want to poke me sir?” she asked.
“Gosh,” I replied, “Lot to take in, are all girls, sort of, you know, the same?”
“Not the same sir, some’s bigger and some’s smaller and some’s hairier and just a few’s shaved like mine,” she said saucily.
“Right,” I agreed.
“You can feel with your fingers if you like sir,” she said.
“No thank you,” I replied, “We aren’t engaged or anything.”
“There’s a pub,” she said pointing, “I’ll have a wee there.”
I straightened the car and drove slowly along with the thought of Doris’s cunt embedded inextricably on my minds eye.
We stopped at the pub in some unpronounceable welsh village where she went to the loo and then we resumed our journey.
“You do want to feel my cunt don’t you sir?” she suggested as she read my mind, “I bet you really want to stick your willy inside it and poke me don’t you sir?” she said.
“Uh,” I said.
“Your willy tells me he wants to be inside my nice juicy cunt,” she said, “We could get a room for the night.”
“Be late for dinner,” I explained, and I put my foot down hard upon the throttle and cast thoughts of cunts from my mind.
We arrived at three minutes to eight, Mummy was livid, “Where the hell have you been?”
“Ah,” I explained, “Angela went off in a huff so I had to pick up a prostitute to make up a fourth for whist.”
“Oh!” Mummy gasped, “That’s very thoughtful,” and she turned to Doris, “Bats for the other side dear, queer as a nine bob note.”
“Oh,” Doris said, “Really?”
“Oh yes, Geoffrey’s been going with Angela for eighteen months now, not so much as a peck on the cheek, spends all his time at his club rogering his chums.”
“That’s not true!” I insisted, “I’m too busy with the six and a half, we’re boring,” I was going to say ‘It out to seven litres,’ but Father popped his head around the door.
“Yes indeed Geoffrey, you’re certainly boring,” he said, “But who’s the popsie?”
“This is Doris, she’s a prostitute!” I said.
“Geoffrey please!” Mother cried, “You’ll give your father ideas.”
“Oh,” said Doris, “I come to play whist, fucking’s extra.”
“Wash your mouth!” Mother said, “With soap!”
“I ain’t sucking his cock!” Doris insisted.
“Look Mummy, it’s dinner time and I’m famished.” I reminded them.
“You tuck in, I’ll show Doris the model railway,” Father insisted.
“Ten bob for Gentlemen, bums extra,” Doris explained helpfully.
The double doors opened revealing Maitland the butler, “Dinner is served!” he announced.
“Then we shall eat dinner!” Mother insisted, and we did.
Main course was venison, preceeded by Venison soup and poisson aux Venison as a fish course as Father had run down a deer with the Rolls especially, the sweet was fruit and largely cooking apple and cucumber in syrup, and all in all it was rather delicious, I tucked in ravenously with no time to converse.
“Mummy, Doris hasn’t got a willy,” I said as Father passed the cheese board.
“I should think not,” he said, “She’s not a Ladyboy!”
“Oh,” I paused, “Ah don’t girls have willies?”
“For gods sake Geoffrey,” Father expounded, “You’re twenty three surely you’ve seen a girl?”
“He’s queer Harold,” Mother insisted, “That’s why he and Angela are so well suited!”
“You haven’t answered my question!” I responded.
Poor old Maitland the butler didn’t know where to look.
“Yes Geoffrey,” Father intoned some ten years too late, “Girls don’t possess willies, cocks, pricks, penises meat and two veg, balls or whatever you want to call it.”
“Oh,” I replied, “Gosh.”
“Come upstairs I’ll show you!” Doris suggested.
“Geoffrey” Mother insisted, “You will do no such thing!”
“For heavens sake woman!” Father cried, “Here have ten bob,” he said as he handed me a pound note, “Go and show us you’re a man!”
“Yes come along!” said Doris and as mother glowered angrily Doris took my hand and led me upstairs to the linen cupboard, the bathroom and the fire escape before finally we found the guest room, where she slipped her pants off and lay on the bed, her charms lewdly displayed.
“Gosh” I said.
“Here put one of these on,” she said handing me a prophylactic.
“Where?” I asked, so she pulled my fly open and extracted my willy.
He seemed to come alive at her touch, he swelled frighteningly extending to nine inches or so in length and two and a half at least in girth.
“Oh sir!” Doris said as she rolled the rubber on him, “Do you want to stick him in me?”
“Uh,” I said, “We’re not even engaged.”
“That doesn’t matter!” she insisted, “Surely you want to?” she asked.
“You said it hurts sometimes?” I said.
“Only when I’m not ready,” Doris insisted.
“Right,” I said.
“But I’m ready, do you want to feel?” she asked.
“Not really,” I explained, “It seems awfully familiar.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake!” she protested and she lay back and smiled as she spread her legs wide and dragged me towards her by grasping my balls with one hand while as I was pulled helplessly towards her she slipped two or three fingers of her other hand inside herself and sort of fluttered it around for a moment before as guided me towards her.
I almost fell and as she positioned my willy between the pouting lips of her crimson gash I fell forward driving it forcibly inside her making her gasp in surprise.
“Oh sir, you are eager!” she said.
“Sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be sorry, a girl wants to feel wanted, it’s quite a compliment really,” she said, and added, “Aren’t you going to do anything then?”
“No,” I said, “This feels wonderful!” and it did, warm velvet syrup engulfed my member and in my mind I was back in mothers womb, safe inside my cocoon far from harm, far from the troubles of the world.
“It’s all very well,” she said, “But it don’t do nothing for me, can’t you hump me or something, you’re squashing me!”
“Sorry,” I said.
“Just pull back a bit and push and pull back and, ahhhhhhh,” she said as I did as she said, “That’s much better!” and sensations flooded my brain and I started grinding furiously against her as the need to do something became overwhelming, suddenly fluffy clouds of marshmallow and soft breasts filled my mind to excess and my mind reeled through Africa and big game to the war and back to Doris’s tits until the familiar gushing feeling I had during my nightly dreams engulfed me and the stickiness shot from my balls and into her instead of all over my pyjamas.
“Gosh,” I said, “Cripes!”
“Was that really your first fuck?” she asked.
“With a girl yes,” I agreed.
“Well don’t be in such a hurry next time,” Doris advised, “Slow down a bit it ain’t a race.”
“Gosh,” I said and I pulled my trousers up and went to the bathroom to pull the now well filled rubber off my willy and have a wash.
“Is that what Angela wants?” I asked.
“Yes, give her one every now and again,” Doris advised, “She might say no but she’ll mean yes.”
Father had the brandy out when we came downstairs, Mother stared rigidly at the fire, “Congratulations!” Father said and he handed me a well filled glass, “How was he my dear?”
“Eager,” Doris said and blushed.
“Soon learn to tame the beast what?” Father chortled, “Well, well, well, and I had you down as a bugger Geoffrey,” Father chortled, “Never mind, soon make up for it eh what?”
“Don’t get ideas,” Mother muttered.
“I’ll do you sir for ten bob,” Doris suggested.
“You do and I’ll divorce you!” Mother protested.
“Promises, promises,” Father chortled drunkenly, as he fished two half crowns, two two bob bits and a shilling from his wallet and cried, “Lead on!”
Mother shook her head, “Stupid man,” she said, “I thought you were a man’s man Geoffrey,” Mother said quietly.
“Never really thought about it,” I admitted, “I never realised, you know, willies, or the lack of girl wise.”
“I blame the war,” Mother said as upstairs bed springs began to squeak, “Normally you would have put at least one housemaid in the family way by now.”
“Perhaps,” I agreed, “Any supper, I’m starving!”
Supper was Dinner’s leftovers but quite palatable and when I finished Father appeared looking rather flushed, “Half time, your innings,” he laughed, “Go on lad, I’ve paid the ten bob already.”
Mother hook her head sadly but I bounded upstairs, grabbed a rubber and once again I slid my willy firmly into Doris’s soft warm wet and yielding flesh, “Ooohhh sir, that’s lovely,” Doris said and she gave my willy a little squeeze, “Go on then!” she said and I started to hump her again, more slowly this time, dreamily, “Oooohh sir, this is so much nicer than round the bike sheds at the station.” she admitted, which I thought was nice.
I heard bedroom doors creaking, voices, “Have you had enough?” Doris asked, “Only I’m tired and you had your half hour.”
“Sorry,” I said, “I was miles away,” dreaming of big game hunting, Hippos with Angela’s face, Rhinos with mothers face, very disturbing but as I came back to reaity my willy throbbed ad the last drops of stickiness blobbed out of it and I collapsed exhausted against Doris’s tits.
“Where do I sleep?” Doris asked.
“Here,” I said, and I rolled on my back.
“Not till you get rid of that thing and have a wash,” Doris insisted, so I went to the bathroom for a wash.
She was asleep when I returned, “No not without a rubber,” she muttered as I slid under the covers beside her and put my arms around her but I just kissed her neck and went to sleep.
I slept like a log and in the morning I woke to a tinkling sensation, Doris had the bedclothes thrown back and was kneeling over me wearing my shirt and kissing my willy which was standing up vertically with the veins clearly outlined and very very hard.
“Mmmm,” Doris said, “Can I earn another ten bob?” she asked and she pulled a rubber on to me.
“What?” I asked and she simply moved along a bit and sank her warm wet slippery cunt down over my straining willy.
“That’s nice isn’t it?” she asked.
“Very!” I agreed.
“Worth ten bob?” she asked.
“Every penny,” I agreed as she squirmed around.
“I don’t get to fuck many nice gentlemen in bed,” she said, “It makes a nice change.”
“I suppose it must,” I agreed but I was thinking about flying and all sorts of other random thoughts until quite suddenly in a maelstrom of flying marshmallow and Bentleys at LeMans I started to leak, and then shoot stickiness into my rubber.
“Ohhh sir, you have got a powerful squirt,” Doris agreed, and I collapsed back onto the pillow entirely spent.
Part 2.
I could hardly wait to get back to London and see Angela, it was so obvious now that she was clearly frustrated that I had shown no interest in bedding her.
I had to wait until Monday evening and then when I arrived at Angela’s flat she was not home and her flatmate Kitty greeted me, “Oh, for me?” she jokes as I stood there with a bottle of LaFite 35 and a bunch of roses.
“Oh, no, sorry,” I said, “Is Angela in?”
“No, not yet, she told me, you know,” Kitty said, “How you dumped her in Shrewsbury.”
She smiled prettily, she was very nice really but the wrong sort, her father worked for the gas board and her mother in a factory kitchen, grammar school girl you see, airs and graces but really common as muck, very pretty though, ready smile not like Angela’s scowl.
“Coffee?” she asked, I refused knowing how short of coupons they were and made a mental note to scrounge some more from Mr Walker who often had some spare items under the counter at the right price of course at his corner shop.
“Will you come in and wait for her, or don’t you think you can resist me?” she asked.
I swallowed, my willy was throbbing awkwardly, I felt the need to bare her pert little breasts and bury my head between them, to pull her skirt and panties off and.
“I’ll come back later,” I said awkwardly.
“Oh, are you scared I’ll jump you?” she joked.
“Something like that!” I agreed and I waved as I returned to the Bentley and sat there miserably nursing a huge erection.
Eventually I saw Angela in my mirrors and I jumped from the car, “Angela!” I cried, “I’m so sorry.”
“You bastard!” she snapped and she shot into her flat and slammed the door.
I followed and knocked on the door, “Angela!” I pleaded.
Kitty let me in, “She doesn’t,” she said so I pushed her aside, “Geoffrey!” she squealed.
“No!” Angela protested, “I’m not talking to you!”
I put the wine and flowers down and walked up to her, she stood her chest heaving with indignation, her white blouse and dark jacket the personification of the dutiful secretary hiding the boiling cauldron of passion I knew existed within her waiting to be released.
“Angela,” I said and I simply reached out and grasped her jacket and pulled it open then I took the neckline of her blouse and simply ripped it open to reveal her bra from which I released her breasts before she could react.
“No!” she protested but I had my hands on her hips pulling her skirt, and panties down leaving just her suspenders and stockings as I pushed her down onto the carpet beside the coffee table and released my erection from my trousers.
“No, Geoffrey!” Angela protested.
“Geoffrey what on earth has got into you!” Kitty demanded as she stood in the doorway but then I had Angela’s thighs apart and there somewhere in a mass of dark curls I knew there lurked a cunt.
I explored with my fingers and found the outline of a slit and quickly aimed the tip of my willy at her and thrust hard, my willy slipped off the first time, and the next two but on the fourth attempt it reluctantly began to slide inside her insufficiently lubricated innards as she tried to resist me, “Geoffrey No!” she ordered as she desperately tried to push me off, “Kitty help!”.
Kitty rushed forward her pert breasts bouncing as she ran “Geoffrey no!” she cried as she swung around me to grab me from behind and demanded, “Geoffrey what on earth has got into you!” Kitty insisted as she tried to drag us apart again, “You cannot just pounce upon people!”
“Doris said it is what she needs,” I explained, “Doris is a prostitute who works on Shrewsbury station so she should know.”
“Get off me you oaf!” Angela cried.
But Kitty now had her hand around the root of my willy and simply dragged it out of Angela’s cunt
“Actually Geoffrey she doesn’t,” Kitty explained, “Angela is a Lesbian, she likes doing it with girls.”
“Kitty!”Angela protested.
“She lets me live here as long as I do her every now and again,” Kitty admitted.
“And you are a what did you call it, lesbian too?” I asked.
“Lord no, bi perhaps, but I do like a nice big fat juicy cock inside me every once in a while,” Kitty simpered.
Angela had pulled away from me now, she was putting her clothes on, while Kitty was still holding my willy, gently stroking it in fact.
“Kitty!” Angela protested.
“He’s all hot and bothered poor dear, he needs a nice hand job,” Kitty suggested.
“And you would know!” Angela replied.
“Er,” I said because my willy felt really nice, like it does in the night before I wet the bed with the stuff that goes hard in the morning.
“Shut up Geoffrey!” Angela said angrily but my poor willy was throbbing and suddenly.
“Uggghhh,” Kitty said, “He’s cumming!”
“Don’t get it on the carpet!” Angela cried but she was far too late as a stream of silvery cum now trailed a good couple of feet across the floor.
I felt wonderful.
“Kitty!” Angela exclaimed.
“It wasn’t my fault,” Kittey protested.
“Well you were wanking him!” Angela pointed out.
“Only to stop him rogering you,” Kitty retorted.
“Phew,” I whooshed, “That was really nice.”
“Pull your trousers up and get out!” Angela snapped so seeing her look of utter contempt I quickly pulled my trousers up and made myself decent.
“Angela!” I said, “Look about Doris, and everything.”
“Geoffrey,” Angela replied, “I don’t care about Doris, I don’t care about Shrewsbury and most important I don’t care about you!”
“Oh,” I said, “But we’re engaged.”
“Were Geoffrey, were engaged,” she snapped.
“Oh, well,” I said, “I’ll wish you good day,” and I slipped away.
I had just got to the car when Kitty ran up to me, “Don’t go, she’ll come round,” she said.
“Sounded quite final to me,” I insisted.
“Geoffrey, this prostitute, Doris, did you like doing it with her?” Kitty asked.
“Gosh yes,” I agreed.
“And did she charge you?” Kitty asked.
“Lord yes, ten bob a time, pound for all night,” I admitted.
“Only I’m a bit strapped for cash, and I like you and,” Kitty fluttered her eyelashes at me, “I’d only want five bob.”
“God, five bob to make up a four for whist,” I exclaimed.
“For a fuck you idiot!” she laughed.
“Good lord,” I replied, “Why not!”
“We had better go to your place,” she suggested, “Or Angela will be jealous.”
“Can’t I’m afraid, old Miggins the landlady won’t allow floozies,” I said awkwardly.
“A hotel then,” she suggested.
“Bit short on readies Im afraid,” I apologised thinking it would be a couple of quid at least.
“Then why don’t you pick up some tart outside Charing Cross railway station instead!” she snapped and she stormed off.
“Good Idea,” I thought, “Where the hell is Charing Cross?”
I went to Kings Cross instead, met a little tart called Mina, paid my ten bob, plus five shillings for a room and she nipped into a small hotel to make arrangements and I never saw her again.
I was very cross and had to go round to my club to borrow five pounds from “Quardle” Wardle a chap I knew at school.
I went straight round to find Kitty, Angela answered the door, “Go away Geoffrey,” she snapped.
“No I came to see Kitty, I have the cash for an hotel room so, oh,” I said as I realised I had said too much.
“Kitty, Geoffrey to see you,” Angela shouted over her shoulder.
“Geoffrey?” she asked.
“I have some cash for an hotel room,” I explained.
“Geoffrey,” Angela sighed, “You can fornicate here on the lounge carpet or dining table for all I care!”
“That’s jolly decent of you,” I agreed, “Lead on Kitty!”
“She was being sarcastic!” Kitty explained but I had already lifted her skirt and pulled her pants down ready to roger her, “Geoffrey please!” she protested.
“He really is like some wild animal, what on earth is wrong with you Geoffrey?” Angela demanded.
“Nothing, nothing at all, I feel wonderful,” I said honestly, “I just want,” I paused sex seemed such a crude word, “To make love.”
“Fornicate more likely,” Angela sneered, “The only thing you love is that damned car!”
“Yes, say fornicate then damn you!” I snapped, “Yes I want to and if you don’t want to them it seems little point in us getting married.”
“Marry the damn car, screw prostitutes see if I care!” Angela sneered.
“So what about you Kitty, will you marry me and fornicate with abandon?” I asked.
“We can fuck occasionally,” Kitty said, “But you really are a desperate bore Geoffrey.”
“Oh,” I recoiled.
“Sorry,” Kitty said, “I can’t possibly contemplate the tedium of being married to you but as regards a fuck, well, I do need the money,” she added as she turned towards me and undid my flies before extracting my penis.
“Damn it what tedium?” I demanded, “Why you can do as you will while I work on my car, where is the tedium?”
“You say the sweetest things,” Kitty said, “Do you know if you fuck me nicely I might actually consider your offer.”
She sat on the coffee table and I eased my member into her sopping hole.
Of course the coffee table collapsed so I helped her up and we fucked against the door frame instead. Well she got bored so we fucked on her bed for a while and then just as I shot my load she said. “Yes!”
“Yes what?” I asked.
“I will marry you!” she agreed.
“Oh Mummy will be pleased!” I agreed.
I think that was probably when she started planning the divorce.
