The afternoon sun made diamond shapes on the grass as it seared through the leaves. Janie and Sally reclined on their sun-beds, sunglasses firmly on their noses and tall glasses of Sea Breeze cocktails clamped firmly in their hands.
‘Does he have to keep clicking like that? It sounds like a swarm of crickets,’ Sally complained, raising herself up on her elbow.
‘That’s great, stay like that. Wow, this is going to make me a fortune!’
The photographer dipped and wheeled across the grass towards them. Sally raised one knee and pushed it sideways, cupping her pussy with her free hand, and he dropped to his knees to finish his film.
‘Derek, isn’t Shona Shaw waiting for you down in the village?’ Janie asked. ‘She’s finished her write-up. She only let you stay on this morning because we said we had a job for you.’
Sally chortled. ‘And have you finished what we asked you to do?’
‘Yes, it’s all built,’ Derek squeaked. ‘Come round the side of the cottage, and I’ll show you.’
‘I daresay she’s expecting you to escort her back to London,’ Janie chided. She stood up and stretched, gloriously aware of the way her breasts lifted and then bounced down. She and Sally had the tiniest of bikini bottoms on and nothing else.
‘Let her wait.’ Derek puffed out his chest. ‘I want to stay here with you. My portfolio will be enormous.’
‘That’s not all that’s enormous about you, darling, but really, it’s time to scoot.’ Janie smiled at him. ‘Apart from anything else, you’ve worn us out.’
Janie strolled slowly into the cottage, enjoying the slavering looks of the young man. At the door she turned and saw him pleading desperately with Sally to be allowed to stay, but she was being equally heartless. She pinched his face in her hand, gave him a long, slow kiss, then pointed over to his car. They had enjoyed their morning with him after Shona had gone, letting him take photographs of them in the cool shade of the willow tree, but now it was time for some serious sunbathing.
‘Here,’ she said, handing Sally another drink. ‘This is what this holiday was meant to be all about.’
‘Yes, and only today have we achieved it.’
Sally bit the straw and sucked her cocktail as Derek crunched at the gears in the vain hope that they would relent and summon him back to perform some more tasks.
‘But think what else we’ve done! A sparkling new cottage –’
‘Hope Ben will approve.’
‘And at least one new sex slave!’
They laughed. Derek’s van jerked reluctantly up the drive and started to turn into the road. All at once there was a cacophony of squealing brakes and beeping horns.
‘Honestly. It sounds like the Cromwell Road out here!’ grumbled Sally as she and Janie wandered to the fence to investigate.
‘He’ll do anything to stay here at the cottage, the scallywag,’ she chortled. ‘Even engineer a car crash!’
‘You know, I’d do anything to be able to stay on. I’ve already been here a week longer than I intended.’ Sally sounded serious for a moment, and Janie looked at her. ‘I know it’s taken me a while to settle down, and I’ve been a grumpy mare at times, but my cold’s quite gone and I feel really at home here.’
Janie felt the sun’s warmth seeping into her back along with a sense of satisfaction and peace. She nodded.
‘Well, I have to say, against all the odds you actually look like you belong in the wilds of Devon. And I’m used to having you here.’
Sally beamed. ‘So right now the thought of either of us going back to London seems like utter madness –oh, God, who’s that?’
The gutteral roar of the car which had been arguing with Derek’s at the little junction hadn’t receded. In fact, it was getting louder, crunching up their drive and materialising into the shape of a shiny Mercedes with blacked-out windows.
‘Looks like your ride back to London,’ Janie tried to joke, but her heart sank. Jonathan was throwing up dry stones in an unnecessarily violent parking manoeuvre, and the expression on Sally’s face was already changing into the mixture of petulance and desire that overcame her every time Jonathan was mentioned.
‘Nonsense,’ she murmured weakly. ‘He hasn’t been in touch since that party, so he can go to hell.’ She trotted towards the gate. ‘I ain’t going nowhere.’
Janie remained where she was, staring over the fence at the fields. The peaceful afternoon was already fragmenting. She certainly didn’t want to stick around while those two spent the rest of the day either bonking or fighting. Perhaps she’d go to the beach, she thought. She glanced over at the car. Jonathan and Sally were in their customary pose, one on either side of the gate, squaring up to each other, though it was difficult for Sally to be convincingly aggressive wearing nothing but a pink thong.
As they started to argue, someone else suddenly got out of the car and Sally’s head snapped round furiously. It was Mimi. She was wearing a white trouser suit with nothing underneath the loosely buttoned jacket, and her wild hair was swept up into an elegant coil. Janie’s stomach contracted with the memory of caressing the other woman’s dark skin in the floodlit swimming pool ten days or so ago. She didn’t move, but folded her arms across her chest.
Mimi pushed Jonathan out of the way with an impatient comment, opened the gate which he had still not entered, and laid a friendly hand on Sally’s arm. But it was Janie she was aiming for, and both Jonathan and Sally stopped bickering and stared as she stalked across the dry grass.
‘Hi, Jane,’ she breathed, and Janie’s heart started pounding. ‘Don’t look so afraid!’
She took Janie’s wrists and forced them away from their defensive posture across her bare front. The sun was full on Janie, shining on her lightly-tanned breasts. The nipples perked up eagerly as Mimi looked her up and down.
‘I’m not afraid. I’m pleased to see you,’ Janie said, and meant it. She gestured towards the table and umbrella where the ice was just about melting in the cocktail jug. ‘I haven’t been back to the pub, though I meant to come and find you –’
‘You wouldn’t have found me. I haven’t been back to work there since I last saw you. Our brief conversation at Jonathan’s party got my feet itching again.’
Mimi kept hold of one wrist as they sat down under the umbrella, but shook her head when Janie offered her a drink.
‘I can tell from the outfit that you haven’t just come from filling the optics,’ Janie said. ‘You look sensational: like a fashion editor, or a rock star. But what does Maddock make of it?’
Mimi tossed her head, forgetting that she was looking sleek, and one thick tendril of hair dropped out of her hairpins and brushed her hot cheek.
‘Maddock? He has no say in what I do. He tried to order me back behind the bar when I told him I was quitting. He thinks that’s all I’m good for. That, and opening my mouth and legs.’ She sniggered, but her face softened a little. ‘I mean, that is one of the things I’m good for, but not the only one. To prove it, I gave him and his merry men the seeing-to of their lives last night. But he didn’t know it was the last time. He doesn’t know I’m going away. He doesn’t know he’s just been something to play with while I’ve been killing time down here. I always wondered what a real country boyo would be like under all that straw and mud and thick accent, and now I know. Anyway, he needs to pick on someone his own size, if you know what I mean.’
‘Yeah, chalk and cheese doesn’t begin to cover it when it comes to you and Maddock. Beauty and the beast, more like. But it’s not the winter!’ Janie’s voice rose embarrassingly, and Mimi chuckled her deep, smoker’s chuckle. ‘The summer’s only half done. You said you’d be going in the winter.’
‘I know,’ grinned Mimi, ‘but I rustled up a couple of contacts and I’ve landed an offer I can’t refuse. I’m going to LA to work on a film.’
‘Wow! I didn’t know you were an actress as well.’ Janie knew she sounded star-struck, but she couldn’t help it.
‘I’m not. At least, not exactly. I’m going to be what they call a stand-in. There are various stars who I can double for. Catherine Zeta-Jones, maybe –’
‘Wow,’ Janie said again. ‘That’s so glamorous.’
Mimi shrugged and glanced over her white linen shoulder. Jonathan and Sally had sat down, one on each sun-lounger, but they were barely talking. They looked more interested in what was going on under the umbrella. Mimi rubbed finger and thumb together like a gangster.
‘Money, darling. It’s good money. And it will lead to other things. Or maybe I’ll be back by Christmas. In London. Or Devon.’
Her black eyes burned into Janie’s, and Janie’s stomach gave an excited lurch. She wanted Mimi to come back to Devon, but she couldn’t help wondering if she ought to get real. Mimi was like a glittering, exotic bird about to flap away into the blinding sky, and yet two weeks ago she’d been pulling pints in the Honey Pot Inn. Why on earth would she come back, now that her transformation was complete? Janie returned Mimi’s wide smile, then started to laugh.
‘Anything can happen, can’t it?’ she replied, and Mimi nodded, taking Janie’s hands. She stroked the inside of her wrists suggestively and Janie sat very still, marvelling at the strange reaction shivering under the surface of her skin.
‘Take my card. You could come out there with me, see what’s there for you.’
Janie looked at the card where it lay between them on the table. Mimi Breeze, various telephone numbers, and an email address. Somehow she knew she’d be seeing this woman again.
Mimi leaned across the wooden table, the lapels of the white jacket falling open to reveal her plump brown breasts. Janie stared at them, then back at her face. Mimi’s red-painted lips parted, drew nearer, and then she pressed them onto Janie’s mouth. They radiated heat, and her tongue came out and slicked round to find Janie’s. There was the merest flutter of its tip against Janie’s lips, and Janie needed to respond, her tongue sliding warmly out to meet Mimi’s. The world stopped as their mouths locked hard onto each other, tongues flickering a delicate dance while their lips closed and sucked. But as Janie started to fidget on her chair, wanting to touch Mimi’s breasts again, Mimi suddenly withdrew, released Janie’s hands and stood up. Jonathan jumped to attention as if he were her servant.
‘I have to go. I’ll see you,’ Mimi whispered huskily. She ran one long red fingernail down between her breasts, then raised it quickly and tucked it between her lips for a moment. Janie did the same with her own finger. Then Mimi walked away with Jonathan to the garden gate.
‘Amazing what a decent outfit can do to transform a person, isn’t it?’ muttered Sally, sauntering up to the table, and trying to look as if she didn’t care. ‘She was the local bike until yesterday. Now she looks as if she owns the place.’
Janie just nodded blankly, still in her chair.
‘And what’s Jonathan doing bowing and scraping like that?’ Sally demanded. ‘Have they been – has something been going on? He’s surely not driving her off somewhere? Oh man, I haven’t even started with him!’
Sally hopped from foot to foot, itching to cross the grass and listen to what they were saying, ready to jump if he threatened to climb back into her car. But then the sleek nose of another car appeared at the small junction, and a mellow hooter sounded, shocking some sleepy birds into flight. Mimi turned, waggled her fingers at Janie and Sally, and walked off down the bumpy drive. The car inched forward, and they saw that it was a white limousine. A chauffeur got out and held the door open for her, and Mimi got in. For a moment she, the car and the chauffeur wavered in the heat-haze just like a mirage before the car slid silently away behind the hedge and was gone.
‘This place becomes more like fantasy-land every day,’ Jonathan remarked casually, as he strolled back towards the girls, sat down and helped himself to the jug of cocktails. ‘But it won’t do. It’s time we all got back to real life.’
‘Meaning?’ Janie tore her attention back to him.
‘Why should we get back to real life?’ Sally butted in, pouring herself a drink as well. ‘We’re having a blissful time down here. Looks like you and that barmaid have had a pretty blissful time of it – why spoil it with talk of “real life”?’
‘Because we have to get back to work,’ Jonathan answered. ‘And you’re coming with me.’
Janie decided to sit tight and hear what he had to say.
‘In a way he’s right, Sally. We can’t loll around in the sunshine forever.’
‘Who’s side are you on?’ Sally snapped, banging her glass down.
‘It’s not a question of sides,’ Janie sighed. ‘It’s a question of getting real, earning money, having one’s own place to live. After all, this is only meant to be a holiday.’
‘But you’ve managed to get some work done while we’ve been here – with my help!’ retorted Sally. ‘And maybe you’ll even get noticed, if that article gets a good response.’
‘And I intend to follow it up, if it happens, once I’m done down here. But I’m not the restless career girl, Sally. You are.’
‘That’s right,’ said Jonathan. ‘If you come with me, you could have all this kind of luxury, and so much more, whenever you liked. As well as the use of my place, of course.’ He leaned back in his chair and wiped a large white handkerchief round his neck. ‘With all the money you’ll earn working for me and my new business partner.’
Sally leaned her chin on her hand.
‘And who is he, this new business partner? What kind of business?’
‘Catering, clubs, entertainment. We need a PR whiz kid, with a head for business, the ultimate front woman, in fact.’
Janie and Sally raised their eyebrows at each other, interest simmering.
‘And that’s me?’
‘Of course.’
‘And the new partner?’
Jonathan took a swig of his drink.
‘His name’s Mastov.’
Sally and Janie gasped. Jonathan looked at them both as if he’d just delivered the crown jewels. Janie looked at Sally, and then flicked her arm in the air as if cracking a whip, at which Sally started to giggle.
‘You mean Mastov of Holland Park?’
‘Yes, but how did you know –?’
Sally stood up, kicked Jonathan’s feet out from under the table so that his legs were sideways. She stuck her bottom out, her pert cheeks divided by the strip of pink thong, and Jonathan took hold of her hips. Then she lowered herself down onto his knee and started to rock her crotch up and down his chinos.
‘Because, King Dong, I’ve screwed him. I’ve been tied to his Chinese lacquer bed in his mansion, and I’ve seen the extent of his portfolio –’
‘You little trollop!’ Jonathan feigned horror. ‘So much for mooning round after me!’
‘I have to keep myself entertained, Jono. You know I need it day and night. I can’t just sit around waiting for the likes of you to come to your senses, for months on end. Not until you prove to me that the only way forwards is for me to come back to London with you, on my terms, and in my own time.’
‘Don’t flatter yourself.’
Jonathan tried to shove her off his knees, but she spread her legs wider across his thighs and lifted herself on tiptoe so as to push her bottom right back into his groin. She tilted her hips so that she caught his hidden penis with her pubic bone, and Jonathan slumped back in the chair.
‘There is one condition that I would like to make if we are going to work together. To be together,’ he said, his voice serious. Sally stopped wriggling.
‘Can’t promise, won’t promise.’
‘You have to promise this one thing, Sally. Don’t pout like that. It’s very easy.’
She tried to distract him by licking at his ear. He pulled her back, and made her look at him.
‘You have to promise that you will not shag my sons again. It’s far too sensitive, too close to home. You can’t go there. Not if this is going to work.’ Jonathan’s voice cracked. ‘I nearly went spare when I saw you with them on the beach at my party.’
‘Good. That was the intention,’ Sally flashed back.
There was a pause. Both Janie and Sally flushed. Sally tossed her head, knowing she was beaten on this one.
Janie turned away to hide her own lascivious smile. Didn’t stop her going there for seconds, did it? she thought.
‘OK,’ said Sally. ‘They’re dead tasty, but – they’re your little boys, and I’ll leave them alone. I promise.’
‘Good girl.’
Jonathan’s hands slid round to the front of Sally’s belly and inched under the thin fabric of her thong, and Sally winked at Janie. She was once more in control. Janie winked back and walked to the other end of the lawn.
Sally might be finding her old self, but Janie was all at sea. That Mimi had breezed, literally, into her life, turning part of it upside down, and now she was gone again. God knew what she’d done to Maddock and the other locals while she was here. They would never have encountered anyone like her. She had shocked Janie with the electric attraction she had ignited – the only time she’d felt that for a woman. Those breasts, big and round like her own, bulging with sensuality and invitation, just like her own. No wonder she hadn’t been able to resist touching. Her own tits were tingling again, and she felt hollow with longing. She needed filling. She looked up and down the empty road, the heat-haze still wavering over the silent hedges. She feared Jack had been put off coming near her after seeing her straddling Jonathan that first morning in the cottage. He’d probably heard who else she’d been straddling, too. Having come so close to rekindling their childhood friendship, she would probably never see him again.
She got up and went back to the sun-lounger, lay down and closed her eyes. The sun was hot on her body. Her arms and legs felt heavy. Her breasts seemed to swell, though, rising like dough to greet the sun, and the more she thought about them and compared them with Mimi’s, recalled them floating like buoys in the swimming pool, the harder her nipples grew and the more empty she felt.
This is the end of my adventure, she thought mournfully, and felt the dozy approach of sleep washing through her.
But there was to be no peace, because over by the umbrella Sally was starting to squeal, and not trying to contain the noise. Janie opened one eye, and saw that Sally was lying on her front across the table, the strip of her pink thong hooked over to one side. Jonathan was standing behind her, stroking her buttocks, slowly unzipping his flies, then stroking her some more. He tipped cold liquid from the jug over her bare back so that she shrieked and wriggled, and then he leaned over her and licked it off her spine, keeping his pelvis well away from her buttocks. Sally twisted round and tried to grab at him, but he took her wrists and spread her arms back down on the table so that she was spread-eagled in front of him, face down in the shade of the umbrella. Janie could see the affection in his eyes as they lingered on Sally, and she wished her friend could see it, but Sally was in her element anyway. She rose on tiptoes again, her strong dancer’s calves and legs lifting her bum towards him, and he took her arse-cheeks and spread them open, then slid both his thumbs up and down her dark crack. He sat back down on his chair and buried his face between her buttocks, lifting her higher so that he could lick down towards her pussy, while his thumbs circled the tiny hole of her arse. Janie’s cunt contracted violently as she watched, and she wanted to shut her eyes, but she was aching to be touched, and she wanted to watch. Watching made it worse and made it better at the same time. She licked her dry lips, which had the faint trace of Mimi’s lipstick on them. She remembered Mimi’s warm tongue slicking round hers, then she pressed her hand over her pussy like she had started to do when she was on her own on the beach. But then she remembered further back as if it was months rather than weeks ago; remembered that first stormy night, the first time for years that her pussy had been probed and entered, lying back as she was now, but on the scratchy hay bale. Lying in the warm sun, it seemed bizarre to think that only a couple of weeks ago she had been wearing a heavy jumper, coat and trousers and that it had been cold and raining. She started to touch herself, tangling her fingers in the tight auburn curls of her bush, and tried to recall Jack’s shadowy face in the gloomy barn. Her head turned to watch Sally and Jonathan, wanting in her desperation to run up to them and take his cock out from his trousers and stuff it in to her, but wanting them to have their moment.
‘They’re at it like rabbits, aren’t they?’
Janie had been so busy watching them she’d not seen him coming across the lawn, and for a daft second she thought she had, after all, fallen asleep. But the noises Sally was making were real enough, and so was the figure of Jack, appearing from behind her lounger.
‘They’re talking business,’ she explained, and he laughed loudly.
‘Is that what they call it. Actually, I came here to talk business, too.’
‘It must be the country air,’ she said, in shock that her fantasy man was now standing in front of her. ‘Look at them.’
She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees to hide herself, but he hadn’t once looked at her tits. He was standing rather formally a few feet away.
‘I don’t want to look at them,’ he said. ‘I want to look at you. Who’d have thought it? I’ve been trying to reconcile that wild woman in the barn with little cousin Janie. But every time I’ve seen you you’ve been wearing fewer and fewer clothes, and that sweet Janie has vanished little by little.’
‘You’ve only seen me twice since that night in the barn,’ Janie pointed out, feeling stupid as she said it. ‘You’ve been gone virtually the whole time.’
‘Miss me?’
He sat down on the grass, and she felt hope unfurling in her heart.
‘Yes. No. Stupid question. I wanted to see you, that’s all,’ she said. ‘To explain –’
‘About what? Stealing my logs? Stealing my honour in the barn?’
‘Yes. No. Bloody hell, Jack, you always used to do this!’
‘What?’
‘Confuse me, interrupt me – tease me.’
‘Not enough, I now realise. I should have teased you to breaking point. What fun that would have been. I’m sorry, Janie, you were saying. Explain what?’
She sighed crossly. He was wearing another old T-shirt, long khaki shorts and had bare feet, and though he was dressed like a scruff he was no longer the dogeared schoolboy who’d tormented her back then. He was chewing a piece of grass and looking over at Sally and Jonathan. His hair was longer and curlier than a month ago, and she wanted to wrench his glasses off.
‘About what I was doing with Jonathan that day you came over,’ she said awkwardly. ‘I wish you hadn’t seen that. It wasn’t how it looked.’
‘It looked pretty sensational from where I was standing. You’re going to tell me you were simply borrowing him, I suppose,’ Jack muttered, half turning back to Janie, but with his eyes still glued to Jonathan and Sally. ‘Although, maybe it wasn’t just the once. Is this what goes on all the time when Ben’s back is turned?’
Sally was still flat on her front, gripping the edges of the table. Jonathan had stopped tonguing her and Janie looked up in time to see him slowly feeding the incredible length of his penis into her from behind; he pushed her a little way across the table with every inch that went in and made the jug and glasses rattle. Janie pressed her legs together as she watched, remembering the feel of that extraordinary length of gristle when she had pole-danced up and down on it.
‘No. Yes. We’ve been a little crazy this summer,’ she stammered, trying to get his attention. ‘But you weren’t around, Jack.’
‘More’s the pity.’
He grinned up at her from his place on the grass, and she spread her hands helplessly.
‘What do you mean?’ she demanded. ‘I thought I was getting a telling off! I thought you were going to run off and tell cousin Ben.’
Jack unfolded his legs and stood up. ‘Do you think it’s safe to grab a drink?’
She slapped him on the leg and he tiptoed up to the table, reached round the rutting pair to swipe the jug and glasses, and ran back to her.
They chinked glasses, and knocked back the strong cocktail as if it was lemonade. Janie felt woozy, and she lay back with another sigh on the lounger, hesitated for a moment, then lowered her knees and stretched herself out. Jack wasn’t quick enough to hide the lust gleaming in his eyes as she wriggled into a comfortable position with her long legs slightly parted and her breasts bouncing softly with each judder of her heart. There was a silence between them, while at the far side of the lawn the table creaked desperately.
‘You’re wrong, and you’re right,’ he said.
Janie frowned, and closed her eyes.
‘Riddles, as usual. What are you talking about?’
She felt the end of her lounger give as he sat down on it, but she kept her eyes closed. A warm sense of contentment was coming to life in her toes and starting to work up her body.
‘I mean, you’re wrong about me telling you off,’ he explained. ‘I’m not. You can do what you like. I’m jealous as hell, that’s all. I should have been here. I should have been the one to have you. Not all these others – and especially not Maddock.’
Janie let out a snuffle of laughter, but he didn’t laugh back. She held her breath, still stretched out, still heavy with anticipated pleasure.
‘There’s a lot more to Maddock than muddy boots and Land Rovers, you know,’ she started to tell him. ‘A real son of the soil. I mean, he uses it like a battering ram –’
‘Shut it, Janie. Doesn’t suit you being so crude. I thought you were more civilised that that, even if you are a thief.’
She giggled, and wriggled again. The sun was losing its ferocity, but was still just warm enough to make Janie want to fall asleep.
‘But you were right about my running off to tell Ben,’ he added.
She was befuddled, now. She’d forgotten how his mind worked, always darting about. She raised her glass and took another long drink.
‘I mean. I did tell him. He knows everything.’
Janie sat up sharply, spilling her drink over herself just as the wooden table scraped across the terrace. Jonathan was crouched over Sally, thrusting himself violently into her, and she was shouting out, and then they were yelling out together before he slumped down onto her back. But Jack wasn’t looking at them now. He had sat down closer to Janie than he realised, and he was watching as the cold drink dripped off her nipples.
Janie looked down. The cold had hardened them again. The effect was more startling than simply exposing them to the open air. They were singing and burning like little beacons, hot with desire, and their sharpness was accentuated by the swell of her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat as the constant flutter in her stomach sped up. She sat still for a moment, attempting to make sense of what Jack had just said, but all she could think about was his eyes on her tits and the shifting, fidgeting arousal deep between her legs. She shuffled on the lounger towards him until she was right in front of him, then lifted one of his legs across the seat so that he was astride the lounger, and therefore facing her.
‘Lick it off,’ she said, and her heart gave a leap of surprise at herself. He carried on looking at her nipples. Only the jumping of his pulse in his muscular neck showed any sign of life. She whipped his glasses off and put them on the grass behind her.
‘I said, lick it off. You’ll do as I say, Jack. We’re not children any more, and it’s not me who’s taking the orders.’
She reached out and grabbed his curls, tangled her fingers through them and dragged his head towards her. He pulled away for a moment, and she wondered if she was making an idiot of herself, but then he groaned, a cracked, genuine groan as if to give up any more resistance, and she kneeled up so that his dark head was on a level with her breasts. She cradled him, pushing him into the dark, inviting cleavage.
‘They were covered before in all those layers,’ he murmured. ‘In the barn. I felt them, but I had no idea how luscious they’ve grown.’
Jack’s voice was muffled up against her skin, and she shifted closer still on her knees until she was straddling his legs. She locked her knees behind his back so that he was trapped in front of her. Her mind wouldn’t keep still. Now she was thinking of the blond boy on the beach, taking her breasts in hesitant, clumsy fingers and wondering what to do with them until she showed him. But as the warm tip of Jack’s tongue started to trail across one breast, into the sweaty valley between, and up the other hillock, she knew this was different. This was a man at work. She stopped moving and let his tongue do the talking. It came back over the bulge of one breast, stopped short of the bursting nipple, and started to circle it. It took all her willpower to avoid thrusting the nipple into his mouth as she had done with the blond boy. To stop herself she looked over at the garden table, but Sally and Jonathan had disappeared, leaving the pink thong discarded on the terrace.
Jack’s tongue was flickering like a lizard’s over Janie’s nipple now. She could feel the nipple sticking out almost an inch away from its base, so that every touch of his tongue was close yet distant, not touching the flesh of her breast at all. She shifted very slightly on her buttocks so that she was able to press her aching crotch against his. Her bikini-bottoms were soaking, and they stuck to her pussy-lips as they shifted. The electric shocks of sensation were seared all over her, from her nipples down to her navel, from the outer layers of her fanny to the cavern of her anus, and she started, very slightly so that her thighs ached, to rise up and down to find a way to answer the clamouring of her body.
One of Jack’s hands was pressing a breast, but the other came round and rested on the small of her back, pushing her harder against him, and she laughed softly as her wet bikini made contact with the buttons of his shorts. They would be leaving a damp patch there, she thought, sliding her hands away from his head and down his warm torso to his waist. She started to undo his shorts, and suddenly he took the tortured nipple into his mouth and started sucking hard, biting it, then leaving it, cold with his saliva, and turning to the other one while his fingers took over the teasing and pinching of whichever nipple was free.
‘I want this to go on forever,’ she murmured, pushing his shorts down over his hips. His head jerked back as he looked at her.
‘Is that an order?’
In answer she wriggled backwards, letting her breasts drop heavily down in front of her, so that she could pull his shorts off. He wore nothing underneath, and her tongue came out and slid across her lips as she saw the firm erection rising out of his groin.
‘It was covered in all those layers. In the barn –’ she chuckled softly, taking it in both her hands and rubbing them up and down so that it grew longer as she fondled it ‘– I felt it, but I had no idea how luscious it had grown.’
‘Are you taking the piss?’ breathed Jack.
She chuckled again, pulling hard at him, measuring his weight in her hands. Then, still holding him, she crawled off the lounger and onto the grass, then tugged him down on top of her. For a moment he was on all fours above her, still wearing his T-shirt, his cock stiff in her hands and dangling over her stomach, then she spun round onto her knees and pushed him down onto his back as he had pushed her onto the hay bale.
‘No, my darling, Jack. I’m taking the penis.’
She knew she couldn’t hold out much longer. She realised this was what, in the back of her mind, she had been working towards all summer. The variety of her sexual experiences had been stunning, and she was anxious to repeat them, even with Mimi, but Jack had been the one initially to arouse her. They had awoken each other in the barn during that storm. He was the one she had wanted to find again, whom she wanted to go even further with, if he would let her. Now that she had tried new things, new positions, new people, she wanted to try it all over again with him. She suspected that was what, for all her brazen talk, Sally wanted with her Jonathan Dart.
‘Fuck me, Jack,’ she said loudly, not caring who might hear or about sounding ‘crude’. She yanked her bikini-bottom aside to show him her pussy, feeling it was more sexy to keep it half on. He smiled a lazy smile, halfway to a laugh, his dark-brown eyes gleaming at her from under his long eyelashes. She felt a frisson of amusement at the unaccustomed beauty of his eyes. It had been too dark to see them properly in the barn. He had never once removed his glasses when they were kids. Now he was naked and vulnerable before her. But he was still stronger than her. She tried to lower herself onto his rearing, ready cock, but he gripped her hips and stopped her just as the rounded tip of it brushed her pubes and sent tiny trickles of desire across her sex. She waited, her legs shaking with the effort, and then he let her drop far enough down for the tip to burrow in, to get just short of her burning clitoris, before stopping again.
‘Not totally in charge, Janie,’ he gasped. Then he yanked her down onto him so her crotch was against his and she shrieked out loud with the brutal impact of his cock jammed right up inside her. Then they were humping like crazy, making up for lost time, no longer caring about control. She stretched herself out on top of him, squashing her breasts against his chest, her mouth slicking across his, her legs stretched out flat between his. She let his hips take their weight, lift them both off the ground and down again as her inner muscles gripped and pulled him further and further in. Then she was up again, knees bent on the grass, bouncing up and down on him, hearing herself yell and scream with the release of tension, then lying down again to try to slow the rising tide of climax. But it wouldn’t turn back, and she let him rock her, simply moved with him, as she pressed her ear to his chest and heard his growls of ecstasy. She felt his cock juddering and hardening still more inside her and the lusciousness of the sensation unlocked any remnants of control. The orgasm flooded through her, warm and wet and long-awaited. It kept on shaking her until all she could do was roll with him sideways onto the grass and trap him with her legs until it had all faded away.
‘You really didn’t know who I was in the barn?’ he asked after a moment.
‘No. You just popped up at the right time, when I needed someone to remind me how good sex was. I really needed to fuck.’
‘Are you serious? I thought you were such a sweet girl, Janie Flower. At least, you used to be. I’m shocked.’
She laughed and sniffed the sweat on his skin.
‘Don’t give me sweet. You and that foul cousin of mine bullied me mercilessly for years. Either that or you just left me out of all your games. You couldn’t stand me. No wonder I didn’t recognise you the other night. Although I suppose I should have clocked the glasses.’
‘You’re so wrong. We both fancied you, even then. We had wet dreams about you. We used to fight over you.’
‘You were always so horrible to me! And anyway, Ben’s my cousin; he couldn’t fancy me.’
‘That’s what he thought, until I stupidly pointed out to him that you were only second cousins, or something, and anyway, it’s not illegal.’ He reached for his glasses. ‘We fell out for years because of you.’
Janie pulled the tangled hair off her face. ‘Don’t believe you. Ben’s never mentioned it.’
‘He wouldn’t – too proud. But you can ask him when he gets here. When we were last all together, we were growing up too fast. Not kids any more.’
‘I was fifteen, and you were both sixteen.’ She twisted her hair into a plait and let it drop down her back.
‘And all the games were over.’
‘You were taking pot shots at me with an air rifle!’ screamed Janie.
‘No, I was aiming for seagulls, and trying to impress you!’ Jack shook his head. ‘I was going to ask you for a date, but then you just vanished, the summer was over, and so was our childhood.’
‘Sentimental tosh.’
She punched him playfully and looked around the garden. They can’t have been lying there for long, but the sun had started to creep behind the row of tall trees bordering Jack’s farm, and the air was definitely cooler. There was still no sign of Jonathan or Sally. The approaching dusk suddenly jogged an old memory.
‘There was a moment, now you mention it,’ she murmured. ‘You and I, alone in – was it that barn, or another one? Somewhere filled with straw.’
‘We were playing hide-and-seek with some younger cousins of yours. It was a hay rick out in one of the fields. We were the wrong age to be playing games like that, but the right age to be so totally sex-obsessed. But we were – or I was – whenever you were around. You and I fetched up hiding right inside the hay bales. I was so close to you. I wanted to kiss you. I don’t know how I got it so wrong, but instead of melting into my arms, you scrambled out of our hideout, screeching!’
Janie laughed. ‘All I remember is seeing my reflection in your glasses as you bent closer and closer to me.’
They were silent for a few moments.
‘He’ll be here soon,’ Jack murmured, as if to himself. Janie edged herself off him, feeling his still firm penis sliding slowly between her wet lips and thumping down onto his leg. She lay on her back for a while, looking at the sky which was very pale with the approaching sunset.
‘Who?’ she asked dopily when he didn’t say anything more.
‘Ben. Cousin Ben. I told you, he knows everything.’ ‘And he’s coming here?’
‘Hot foot! Amsterdam is like a rest-home compared with what’s been going on in this place!’
He pulled her back towards him, holding her against his firm body, and she felt a fresh stirring of desire inside. She hooked her leg over his, realising that the burgeoning excitement wasn’t only reserved for the new, grown-up Jack. It was the thought of Ben fancying her all those years ago. Handsome, aloof Ben, who she was scared of, even now, and only ever spoke to on the phone.
‘Come on, let’s go see what those other sex fiends are up to.’
She flipped away from him, suddenly restless. He groaned and put his arm across his eyes. Janie jumped up, pulled on his shorts and her broderie anglaise gypsy top; most of the buttons were missing. She walked round the corner of the cottage. Of course –there it was, just as she had envisaged the first night she and Sally were there. They had cajoled poor Derek into constructing it before he left, and there it stood. The wigwam.
Sally bounded out of the kitchen door as Janie approached. She was carrying cushions and rugs.
‘We thought we could have our supper in here, but there isn’t room,’ she chirped. ‘Jono and I tried it out just now,’ she said, with a wink, ‘if you know what I mean. There’s only room for two people to do it doggy style. But you can have too much of a good thing. Even I know that! We’ll have it out here on the lawn,’ she whooped, her face flushed with sex and triumph. ‘Supper, that is!’
Jonathan followed her with a crate of champagne and a shining new barbeque set which he’d produced from the boot of his car. Like Janie they had pulled on any old thing to wear. She giggled to see Jonathan sporting the famous pinafore. Sally had on his polo-shirt, which reached to her knees.
‘Guess what,’ Janie started to say, bending to go inside the wigwam and grinning with pleasure at its blood-red interior, illuminated by the setting sun. ‘Guess who’s coming to the cottage?’
‘What was that? We’ve got to tell you something, too.’ Sally dropped the cushions onto the grass outside. ‘Jonathan and I are going back to London.’
Janie frowned. ‘You can’t. The summer isn’t over yet.’
‘I don’t mean immediately. But in the next few days. We’ve got a business to set up.’
Janie’s limbs were heavy with a new contentment. She had no energy to argue or worry.
‘Whatever makes you happy, doll. Think you’ll find it hard to leave, though.’
Sally rested her head on Janie’s arm for a moment.
‘You’re right. It’s been a tonic for me, coming here. I never dreamed it would be so good. You’re the best, Janie. And who would have thought that the icing on the cake would be that king of bastards following me down here and gulping down humble pie and a lot more besides?’
‘Who would have thought it?’
‘And who would have thought you would turn into the local nympho? You almost put me in the shade. I said almost.’ Sally laughed. Jonathan yelled something, and she turned to go out. ‘By the way, what were you going to tell us?’
‘Nothing. Nothing.’
Janie stood in the middle of the wigwam, where the fire would be if they lit one, and stared up to the pointed, twiggy ceiling just above her head. It was just right; Derek had done well. He’d probably had a wigwam when he was a kid. But it was too small. They were adults now. It was just an illusion that they could all have played in here. She felt a slight plunge of disappointment in her chest, and as she wrapped her arms round herself something told her to keep Ben’s impending arrival to herself.
Local nympho – daft description, but she liked it. And Sally was right. Everywhere she looked, Janie saw sex. Everyone she looked at. She stretched her aching back. She’d got the man she wanted. She was beginning to like the new Janie.
An unexpected breeze tugged at the sheet that Derek had folded back to form the entrance to the wigwam, and someone else crept inside. Her body relaxed in the knowledge that any second now Jack’s medical hands would start to caress her again, and she knew how they would feel on her, and she would show him some more tricks. She didn’t turn round. The hairs on her neck rose as he paused behind her. She could hear him open his mouth to say something, but then she could just hear his breathing. She closed her eyes. Sally was right. There was just enough room for two in here. Somehow that had the effect of muffling the garden outside, as well. Somewhere she could hear Sally and Jonathan arguing about the food, but in here all was quiet and dark.
At last his hands came round to her front, very slowly stroking her stomach. Hesitantly, she thought, smiling. As if he’d never touched her before. She leaned back against him, and felt him stagger slightly at her sudden relaxed weight. She took his hands and pushed them up from her waist, up over the little blouse until they rested on her breasts. She felt him stiffen with desire behind her. His fingers trod over the broderie anglaise fabric in search of buttons, and found the couple that were still straining to keep it fastened over her breasts. She kept her fingers lightly on his wrists and stopped him from flipping the buttons undone. She wanted to relish the feeling of her breasts being covered, but only just. Her tits were swelling with excitement, threatening to burst the buttons anyway. She smiled to herself, stifling excited laughter. Now she really would look like a ravished milkmaid, her little blouse sliding off her shoulders. No more sweaters, coats, baggy shirts – she hadn’t even worn a bra for a week. Her breasts pushed forwards heavily and eagerly into his hands and her laughter turned into a soft moan. He was breathing hard into her neck now, pressing himself up against her.
‘Hold it right there,’ Janie said into the steamy silence. ‘This is my wigwam. This is my fantasy. In here, you do as I tell you.’
Jack paused, then drew back from her. The flap of the wigwam dropped down, enclosing them in a blood-red cocoon.
‘Kneel down,’ she ordered, and saw him do so. Slowly she started to undo one tiny button, revealing the deep cleft of her cleavage, the rounded shapes of her breasts illuminated by the light outside. Then she undid the other button, held the blouse closed for a moment, then opened it, and slid it off by wriggling her shoulders as she’d seen Sally do when she was doing her Kicker Girls striptease. Janie let her breasts drop heavily forwards in the light.
As if on cue some music started up inside the house – slow, jazzy tunes. Janie took her breasts in her hands and started to knead them, gently at first, then more firmly. This was going to be her own floor show. She couldn’t dance, but she knew enough now about pleasure to do it to herself. She couldn’t see Jack’s face clearly, but she knew he was wearing a lustful expression. She could also imagine Ben’s face, kneeling beside his friend, watching her as well.
A great surge of hot lust pounded through her as she stepped further into her fantasy. The music pounded with it, and she caressed her breasts more passionately, swaying and letting her hair swing down her back. She let herself relax, knowing those eyes were on her, knowing that those boys would be getting hard watching her and watching each other. The heat curled up from her cunt, through her body and right into her head. She was delirious with the excitement of what she was doing, and who she was with.
She curled one arm under her breasts to keep them raised, her hand fondling and squeezing the yielding flesh, and with the other hand she pushed the shorts down and let them fall to the ground. Then she stepped across to Jack, and placed one foot on either side of him so that her crotch was up against his face. His hands stroked up the back of her legs, tickling the skin behind her knees so that they nearly buckled. She pushed her soft bush aggressively against his face and felt his breath blow across her pubes. She started to sway her hips, into him and away, unable to stop herself moving in a way that matched the ripples of desire that were already pulsating through her. He grasped her buttocks, digging his fingers into them, and pulled her pussy against his mouth. She was so horny already that when his tongue snaked out and touched her clitoris she let out a loud groan, ground herself against his face, then with superhuman effort she stepped away again. It wasn’t time yet. She swayed round to face the imaginary Ben. He would be up on all fours like a dog, right behind her, virtually snarling, his face nuzzling up against her thigh. She swung round again to Jack, spread her legs on either side of his head and rested her pussy against his face. He opened her sex-lips with his fingers, held them wide apart, and gently nibbled into her.
Janie smiled to herself and felt her legs give way as Jack’s teeth worked her into a frenzy. She was surprised at how harsh he was being. She liked it. She could imagine Ben nipping and biting like that, but she had turned herself on so much just by imagining them both watching that she feared she would come quickly if she wasn’t careful. Time to slow down.
She stepped away from Jack’s busy mouth, and heard him curse under his breath. She kept one hand on her tits and the other cupped over her bush and, forcing herself to keep her fingers still in case she flicked the button way too early, she crossed her ankles and lowered herself to the ground, just like a squaw. Then she spread her arms in a welcoming, permissive gesture, and lay back on the rug.
Jack was crawling all over her at once, stroking and kissing up and down her prone body, pulling her legs apart, bringing her hands up over her head, and again Janie imagined that it was two of them. She rolled and twisted as Jack pulled her hair out of the way, then moved down towards her breasts and heaved them up so that her taut nipples were offered to the warm air. She wriggled and squealed, already twitching with her approaching climax, imagining herself floating above, watching the fantasy. She wondered how long she could hold on for.
‘I want to feel you inside me – now.’
Janie opened her eyes and felt the familiar warmth of Jack’s body as he lay down on top of her. He pressed his mouth onto hers and kissed her long and hard, then he pushed her legs further apart, and eased his throbbing dick inside her. She knew that if she let herself go she would climax wildly with the pleasure of knowing Jack was hers once more. She could hardly picture Ben any more. This was Jack’s story. She wondered what Ben would think of her now, closeted inside this wigwam, his old friend’s cock buried deep inside her, her tits bare and swollen, her mouth open with ecstasy. She hoped he’d be impressed, but then again –what did it matter?
‘Janie! Jack! Someone here to see you! And the barbie’s nearly ready!’
Sally’s voice sliced through the sound of their heavy breathing, and Janie and Jack smothered their laughter.
‘Just a little bit more,’ Janie breathed. ‘Do it, Jack.’
She was wet and welcoming, and Jack was fired up, and she wrapped her legs round his waist as he started to thrust himself into her. She kept her mind on Jack, her thoughts trained on that first time, in the barn, with those lads watching through the door; kept her mind on it as if it was a film; heard herself at last calling Jack’s name. This was where she wanted to be. She let the waves of her own climax break as Jack thrust harder and harder to reach his goal. His buttocks slammed against her as he gave in, kissing her neck as he groaned her name in response and filled her with his spunk.
They could hear giggles and shouts coming from somewhere near the barbeque. Jonathan would be there in the pinafore, tossing his sausages.
Janie sat up, drew her knees up to her chest, feeling the sticky fluid slicking across her thighs and over her stomach. There was a chinking of glasses outside as Sally bustled noisily out onto the terrace, and the smell of charcoal heating up on the barbecue. Out on the big lawn Jonathan was noisily trying to erect the old swing seat.
‘Come on, let’s eat.’
‘Is that another order?’ Jack chuckled, as he fumbled with the wigwam doorway.
Janie laughed. The wigwam shook precariously as they struggled to get out. It started to lurch to one side, and then Derek’s flimsy structure toppled right over, its bamboo legs in the air, the material falling gently in on itself like a collapsed parachute, leaving the two of them staggering about naked and blinking at the light.
‘So you found her, Jack.’
They spun round, clutching scraps of red material round them. Jack looked like an Indian brave in a loincloth.
Ben was standing on the grass, looking hot and incongruous in a grey business suit. He looked around his own garden as if he’d just landed from Mars. Janie remembered that slightly defensive stance. When Ben was a boy he would plant his feet in that exact fashion, slightly apart, when he was faced with an argument. Except usually he would be brandishing a bow and arrow, as well, to emphasise his superiority.
‘Ben!’ cried Jack, trying to greet him amid a clatter of bamboo twigs. ‘Good to see you! How was Amsterdam? I wasn’t sure exactly when –’
‘Look at you; the pair of you. Can’t trust you for a second. I thought you were supposed to be looking after the place, Janie?’
‘Ben! I – I have been. I mean, I am. You can see. All new.’
Janie bit her lip, furious at the way he made her feel eight years old again. Jack put his arm round her.
‘And I thought you were over that crush of yours, Jack? I didn’t expect to see you both rolling about in my garden when I got back from yet another tough, exhausting business trip. Amsterdam was tough and exhausting, thanks for asking.’
‘It’s hard to take a telling-off when you’re butt-naked. Sorry, Ben,’ Jack pointed out. ‘And I refuse to believe that you haven’t been up to some pretty racy things yourself while you’ve been over there. I mean, Amsterdam’s your home from home, isn’t it? Tough and exhausting? I don’t think so. All those canals, those bridges, those rickety gables, those doe-eyed girls, creatures of the night sitting cross-legged in the ultraviolet light of their windows, beckoning –’
Ben started to laugh. He took his jacket off and threw it across the back of one of the terrace chairs.
‘Someone’s got to be grafting away to keep you lot in cottages and barbecues! I’m only kidding. It’s great to see that you’ve finally got it together. You always had the hots for Janie, even when we were all beating the shit out of each other.’
‘I had the hots for you, too,’ Janie blurted out.
‘Ah, she speaks! Well, my timing this time was cockeyed yet again, wasn’t it? And the best man won.’
Janie glanced at Jack. ‘Yes, he did.’
‘Now then, now then, what’s going on here? You all look far too serious,’ chirruped Sally, bustling across the lawn and brandishing a pair of tongs. ‘If you two have stopped shagging in the – in what’s left of the wigwam, it’s time to tuck in.’
‘Is that what it is? A wigwam?’ Ben snorted.
‘Don’t you snort, young man,’ Sally chided. ‘That’s Janie’s fantasy, that is. You don’t know the half of it.’ She waved the tongs at Janie. ‘You’ve come a long way, girl. I never thought we’d get further than talking about it in front of the fire and now look. You’ve shagged yourself senseless in there. Just one member of the cast missing, wasn’t there?’
‘What are you on about?’ asked Ben, undoing his collar and flipping his tie undone.
‘We’re talking about fantasies, cousin Ben,’ Sally said, as she picked up some more cushions and rugs and dropped them in an inviting pile near the barbecue. ‘This cottage of yours is enchanted. All sorts of things happen here. And how beautifully your little cousin Janie has grown up, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘Yes, definitely. Her friend isn’t so bad, either.’
Sally slapped him on the arm. Jonathan turned from the barbecue to see what was going on, and they all laughed at him.
‘He can’t tell me off for flirting,’ chortled Sally. ‘Not when he looks like the cover of a raunchy cookery book! Now, Ben, you’re wearing too many clothes. Why not start with the trousers? You need to take these trousers off. Come on, there’s a good boy.’
She started to undo his belt buckle, and slipped it expertly out from around his waist. Ben held his hands up in surrender.
‘It’s difficult to tell who’s in charge,’ he yelped, as Sally advanced on him again, snapping her tongs.
‘Sally, I need a hand here!’ shouted Jonathan. There was a clanking of metal as the swing seat conspired to fall apart again.
‘Let’s eat!’ Ben pleaded, backing away from Sally towards the food.
‘Let’s help Jonathan,’ Jack said, then kissed Janie and followed Ben across the grass. ‘And I’ll try to explain about who exactly is in charge.’
‘Yes, would you do that? For some reason I thought I’d left Maddock in charge of my property while I was away, but I see no sign of him.’
‘I get the feeling he was made to feel, how shall we say, redundant. Janie did all the work on the cottage. He came round once or twice, I believe.’
Jack and Ben sat down on the rug and watched Janie tossing the salad and Sally taking a hefty bite out of a sausage.
‘I bet he did,’ murmured Ben. ‘Must have scared the living daylights out of them, if I know anything about his tactics!’
‘They gave as good as they got,’ Jack replied, but Janie shot him a look. She knew he wasn’t comfortable with that particular anecdote.
‘Maddock’s used to being king of the heap around here, isn’t he?’ she remarked, handing them two heaped plates.
‘And a very good king he makes, too, in a caveman kind of way,’ Sally added with her mouth full, ‘but he’s had some knocks this summer. Even the barmaid dumped him.’
Jonathan had given up trying to assemble the swing seat and had pulled his trousers back on. He thumped a tray of bottles and glasses down on the grass. The twilight had dropped over the garden, and a riotous full moon was floating in the navy-blue sky.
‘I wouldn’t worry about Maddock,’ Ben said, and they all looked at him. ‘He looked happy as a pig in shit when I dropped in at the Honey Pot earlier. There’s a new bird behind the bar already, and she looked right up his alley.’
‘A proper country wench, you mean?’ Janie asked, winking at Jack.
‘We’re just tourists,’ Ben answered. ‘Look at us, partying up here in our cute cottage. Down there, in the Honey Pot, they’re the real thing. She’ll do for Maddock, all right. Lots of blonde curls, big tits and haunches, sturdy legs, strong arms that could swing a couple of heifers. Think I’ll make my way down there myself later on!’