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It’s Only My Hands

By Charm Brights

© Charmbrights All rights reserved.

The author has asserted the moral rights under sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Part two

Chapter four

On Jennifer’s visit a week after the accident John had his hands only lightly bandaged. They settled in to the usual routine of her sucking him off but this time he managed to stroke her tits at the same time. His delicacy of touch she rightly ascribed to the tenderness of his recovering skin rather than any attempt to please her.

On inquiring of his doctor she learned that he could now be released from hospital, and that they would rather like him to leave in order to free the bed he was in. The problem was that he would need a lot of care, which was not available in the council apprentices’ hostel he was currently living in, and to visit the hospital, or perhaps a local doctor’s surgery, frequently to have his dressings changed.

“What kind of care does he need?” she asked the doctor.

“Well he can’t do much for himself. Dressing, cooking, that sort of thing is beyond him as yet, and probably for some weeks. It does look as though he will recover the full use of his hands in time.”

“Well, I suppose we could put him up for a few weeks, but he wouldn’t need a qualified nurse would he?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. Just the dressings changed, daily at first but soon it will be just a couple of times a week.”

***

That evening Jennifer suggested to Henry that John might be invited to convalesce as their house guest. “And that way you can watch us all you want,” she added.

Henry thought that he might be able to persuade her to let the convalescent fuck her, as well as the blow jobs, or at lease let him fuck her himself while she blew John.

Three days later John was established in the guest bedroom and set up for dressing changes at the Ali Ar surgery. When he came back from his visit to the surgery with Henry driving him in the Rolls, he had a strong hint dropped that his host would like to watch him again performing with his hostess. It was clear that Henry’s desire to watch his wife went far beyond blow jobs.

When they arrived at the house, Jennifer was nowhere to be seen, so John went up to ‘his’ room. He was very surprised to find Jennifer lying on his bed stark naked. She quickly rose and started to undress him.

“Hey. What’s all this?” he asked.

“You didn’t think I’d stop ‘thanking’ you because you were out of hospital did you?” she said, “And Henry is coming along to make sure I’m doing it right.”

John allowed himself to be undressed and lay back on the bed with a very respectable erection. Jennifer began to suck him as Henry slipped in to the room and sat on a chair at the foot of the bed.

John was thoroughly enjoying Jennifer’s ministrations when both man and boy were surprised as she stopped her tonguing of the boy’s prick, stood up, and positioned herself on top of the prone figure facing her husband.

Then it happened, Jennifer gently lowered herself on to John’s erection, and to Henry’s great delight she leant back so that he could see her cunt with a prick other than his inside it.

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As Henry watched from his seat at the foot of the bed, he thought, The longest journey starts with a single step. This is the first step for Jen; I don’t think she has ever had a prick inside her except mine. Perhaps over the years I’ll see her with bigger ones, perhaps in her arse, more than one at a time, maybe even black enormous cocks like on the Internet. She is only in her mid thirties, who knows how far she can be persuaded to go in the next fifteen years? Maybe even to being black bred? Then he realised that he was wanking himself at the thought of his wife with a black baby, and his cum sprayed onto the floor.

Jennifer continued to ride on John’s prick until he had cum in her twice and his prick softened and fell out of her.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Jennings,” John said, “but it’s a bit painful like this and my burnt hands are achin.”

“Really John, you must call me Jen when we are together like this. Not in front of strangers or my ********, of course,” and she hopped off the bed. Turning to her husband she said, “I can see you enjoyed that as much as I did. Can we keep him?”

Henry’s reply was, “It depends on him, of course. He may not want to live here if that includes fucking you several times a day.” Then turning to John he asked, “What do you actually do for a living?”

“I’m apprenticed to the council parks department as a trainee gardener. I’ve done three of the four years, but there has been a lot of talk of losin staff because of the cuts.”

“Well, how does this sound,” said Henry, “minimum wage, but with all your meals provided and no rent for the room? You can fuck Jen as often as you like, unless I’ve actually got my prick in her at the time?”

“Don’t I get any say in this?” asked Jennifer, “I want to choose who I fuck and when.”

“Is that really any different from what I said?” was her husband's retort, “I bet you want it just as often as he and I can manage it.”

“We have to be practical about some things,” she cautioned, “I don’t want Debbie knowing. How do we hide it and still enjoy ourselves if we are all in the same house?”

“John could have the rooms over the garage that were meant for aged parents, if we had any. There is a connecting door to the bedroom hallway and also the rooms have a separate entrance to the other side of the garage. If we all remember to lock the door to the hallway every time we use it, she won’t know he comes in here,” said Henry, “And the cleaning lady can just add his rooms to the usual jobs.”

And so it was agreed. Jennifer spent most nights with one or the other of her bedmates, but mostly with her husband, and had a goodly number of daytime sessions with the youthful exuberance of the live-in gardening apprentice. The council parks department were happy (for a fat fee) to continue training him one day a week.

Henry found that the sessions he watched when John serviced his wife made him keener on his husbandly duties, so he fucked her more often than in recent years.

***

A few months later all was going well with Jennifer getting more sex than she had had for some years, understandably with two males, one half her age, servicing her. Even so she had occasional unscheduled urges and so she went in search of John in the gardens one afternoon. Not finding him anywhere to be seen in the gardens or the greenhouses, she decided he was probably in the potting shed and made her way there.

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As she was about to open the door she heard a voice she recognised saying, “Yes, wank it like that,” and then, a surprisingly girlish voice sighing “Oh, John, suck my nipples.”

Not waiting a moment as she wanted to catch him with whoever the hussy was, and to tell him not to use their property for sex with anyone but her, she flung the door open. Her words choked in her throat as she realised that the girl half of the sixty-nine in front of her amazed eyes was her own ********, Debbie.

The pair of miscreants did not hear the door open, but when she recovered the power of speech she bellowed, “Out, now, both of you.” Grabbing her ******** by her hair, and not letting her fasten her brassière or blouse she frog marched her into the house and into Henry’s study. “Look what I found with your gardener in the potting shed!” and Henry did look. He looked long and hard, examining his ********’s tits for the first time since they had started to grow a little when she was ten years old.

“Harrumph, yes, well, go to your room Debbie,” he ordered. When she had fled the room, still half naked, he asked his wife, “She’s your problem, so what do you want me to do?”

“Fire the boy, today. We can always find another gardener.”

“Yes, but another toyboy for you? One willing to be watched?” he objected. Seeing the expression on her face he went out to the potting shed and ordered the boy into the house.

Meanwhile Debbie was in her room wondering at her father’s reaction to her tits. His eyes almost came out on stalks. Does he want to play with them? If I let him would that be ******? If I sucked him what would it taste like? Would it taste the same as John’s?

Chapter five
“My wife wants me to fire you, you do know that don’t you?” was the first thing Henry said to John when they were in his study.

“Yes sir.”

“And you know why, don’t you?”

“Yes sir. It’s because she caught me with your ******** suckin me off and me kissin her tits. It was Debbie’s idea,” John blustered, “She done it in the hospital and she says she likes doin it. Her mam’s just jealous cos it ain’t her.”

“Very perceptive of you. What should I do?”

“Well, I’d like to keep my jobs,” said John, “all three of them.”

“Three? What three jobs?”

“Gardenin, fuckin your missus with you watchin, and lettin Debbie play at sex with me. I ain’t fucked Debbie and I don’t intend to; I don’t want the blame when she gets up the duff.”

The thought of his ******** being fucked by someone almost made Henry cum in his underwear. How I’d like to see that, he thought, but not with this oik. With someone she can marry. “You can keep the first two jobs,” said Henry, “but no more dalliance with my ********.”

“Dally-what? Does that mean lettin her play with my prick?” the boy inquired.

“Yes. Strangely enough I don’t want a pregnant ********, let alone by you, and it’s easy for these things to go too far. Why do you think I married her mother?”

***

Later that day Jennifer said, “Henry, why is John still here? I want him sacked.”

“Oh. I thought you just wanted him warned off Debbie. I did that, or are you ready to move on to bigger and better pricks, probably black ones? They cum in groups of three or four you know? I can find you some if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, you and your dreams,” she replied, “You and John keep me more than satisfied in that quarter, and I don’t want to be stretched or to have my bottom used, remember that. While you or John are fucking me you can imagine what you like but that’s all.”

***

When Jennifer came home from college the next day she went straight to the potting shed, but it was deserted. She was wondering why John wasn’t there to be sucked when she spotted a note on the table. It read,

Debbie,

Your *** says we got to stop. He’s afraid we’ll go too far. So just get a boyfriend he likes and he’ll let you do anything, I bet. He might want to watch though.

It was fun.

John

That made her pause and consider the various young men who had asked her out recently. There were three that her father might approve of, but only one stirred her loins when she thought of being on her knees sucking him. Curiously enough his name was also John, and he was the son of the owner of the local screw factory. Yes, she thought, that seems appropriate, being screwed for the first time by a boy whose father makes wood screws. Now, how can I arrange for daddy to catch us at it? Then he’ll be happy with my choice, she mused, But what did John the gardener mean about daddy wanting to watch, I wonder?

Without the slightest regret about her lost gardener she planned, First things first; get mummy to tell the doctor to put me on the pill. Then get rid of my virginity after the college dance the first Saturday it’s safe. Then get caught by daddy when I’m enjoying myself.

Everything went to plan. Henry and Jennifer carried on with John as before; sometimes she had one of them with the other one watching, but it wasn’t long before she would suck one while the other fucked her. Step two, thought Henry.

John was glad he didn’t have to resist the temptation of Debbie’s beautiful young body.

Debbie duly got rid of her virginity, discovered that different people’s jism tastes much the same, and got a fiancé of whom her father approved.

***

It was a stylish wedding at St.Giles church, and the honeymoon in the Seychelles was all either of them could wish for.

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Of course it did help that they had been rehearsing the wedding night and honeymoon activities for months. Debbie enjoyed sex in all the ways they tried it, and she had no intention of going off the pill any time soon.

When they stayed at her parents’ house, which was for several days each month, Debbie made sure to put on a display in what was now the second guest room, thinking, Silly daddy. Of course I know where the secret camera is. Stupid husband John thinks I’m excited by being fucked in my old bedroom, while it’s really thinking of daddy watching that turns me on.





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AUTHOR’S NOTE: If anyone recognises the brick wall at the bottom of Lenton Street in chapter one, and the church in chapter five, please contact me via this web site. I don’t mean “can find them on Google”, I mean recognise them. I know they are only half a mile apart.