NB: As observant readers will have noticed, I managed to publish part 7 and missed out part 6. This is now rectified, and part 6 is available to read as, indeed, 'Part 6.'
"I forgot to wash the tea things up. Mummy asked who had come for tea and I told her." Zephyrine was speaking on the train in the usual compartment.
Hector swallowed. Silly girl, surely she should have known to cover her tracks and hide the evidence of her... naughtiness.
"Daddy was so pleased you had walked me home, Mr Stubbs. I'm sure he'll want to thank you in person."
The doting father had no idea. No idea that his lovely, so sweet maidenly daughter was maiden no longer. Not a virgin! Wonderful Zephyrine had told the truth and said she had invited him in for tea having walked her home. The truth, or part of the truth, so much better than making up stories and getting tangled in inconsistencies and not thought through consequences.
"Stubbs?" James Marlston looked quizzically at Hector.
"We... I paid a visit to Zephyrine's house the other evening -- when you chaps missed the train and..."
The other three gentlemen leant forward. "Yes?" murmured James Marlston.
"We..." Hector looked at the schoolgirl.
"We had sexual intercourse, Mr Marlston." The girl was nodding her head. "With a condom," she added. "At my house, not on the train."
"Really!"
Zephyrine proceeded to explain. It was lovely for Hector to hear the girl recount the late afternoon and evening. Explain and retell it all from her point of view. A lovely reminder of a very happy meeting -- a joining indeed!
"Would you like, Mr Marlston," the schoolgirl looking straight at him, "to do the same? And you, Mr Headman and Mr Trowse, of course. And Mr Stubbs again. All four of you gentlemen. I think I'd like that. All those..."
The girl did not wait for permission, she just reached and started undoing James Marlston's fly. "All those cocks," she said as she drew one out from its hiding place. James Marlston's rearing up out of his fly, pink, fleshy and potent against the backdrop of trouser suiting. "This one looks good to me," the schoolgirl said and went down, her lips slipping over the erection and taking it into her mouth.
Sexual intercourse did not ensue in the compartment. Neither Zephyrine's vagina nor a condom or four were filled with semen but the schoolgirl stepped down from the compartment at the end of her journey to be greeted by her father with four -- actually five, because Stan had appeared at an opportune moment -- loads down inside her tummy. She had been a busy and perhaps thirsty girl. She also had secured the gentlemen's agreement to visit her home on the Saturday when her parents would again be out.
"We can go swimming," she said. Her parents had an indoor pool. Quite something to have at that time. "Don't bother with swimming costumes -- because..."
Mature men skinny dipping with a single schoolgirl. An image to grapple with. Perhaps the thought of a hot sunny summer's afternoon by a lazy river. Quite why there would be a single girl and four much older gentlemen there, not totally clear as an idea. That she might want to swim, and they think they should go in too, to look after her, or perhaps because they too were hot, understandable. That none would have brought swimming costumes again believable. The idea all would go in naked less so. Quite unusual. Quite improper. The idea all the men might then become visibly aroused and the schoolgirl more than happy to do something about it, really only the province of erotica. But that, somewhat, was in the offing. Not a riverbank but a private and small swimming pool, but more than likely, with all of them naked as if on the riverbank, and with the girl's youthful but womanly charms very much visible, the gentlemen's generative organs would extend and rise.
And, indeed, it was just so that Saturday. James Marlston picked the others up in his rather sporty Rover and delivered them to Zephyrine's house. Not dressed in their City clothes but weekend wear, sports jackets, coloured shirts and ties. Four gentlemen calling upon a young lady. It was all rather exciting. They certainly said as much as they drove along.
"They're in the glove box," said James Marlston. He had offered to buy the necessary condoms. Not just the one. They were hardly going to share! And sufficient to replace the one Hector had borrowed the other day. In the front passenger seat, Hector retrieved the packet of six. 'Something for the weekend' indeed.
"I never thought," said Frederick Trowse, "never in my wildest dreams. I mean, should we really? I mean, should we be doing -- be about to do - this?" He and Tom Headman were in the back seat.