Mac's Progress

Clarification:

The Met. = London's Metropolitan Police Force, incorrectly known around the world as Scotland Yard or New Scotland Yard, that's just their headquarters.

" Lock-in" locking the doors of a public house outside normal opening hours, so that a private party can be held. Providing no money is exchanged for any of the alcohol that is consumed and no members of the public could gain free access, then it is (or was - UK licensing laws have changed in the last few years) technically legal. In practice a collection was normally held either before or just after the doors were locked, to pay for the alcohol to be consumed.

Diddums, used to express commiseration, normally to a child.

Chapter 03

Millie was in my room and chaffing at the bit to get started when I got there that night. God only knows how she got downstairs in her nightdress and into the kitchen without being spotted by anyone.

"God, that man winds me up!" she exclaimed as she almost tore my clothes off. "I've needed to feel a cock in me from five minutes after he first kissed me this morning. How the hell can any man have the power to do that to someone?" Then she stopped speaking for a couple of seconds before she asked. "Um, any chance you could do me like last night again, Mack?"

I looked at the pleading expression on her face. "Sure, if you'll let me have a shower first," I replied. "It was interesting to see or rather hear your reactions."

"Come on, Luvver, I'll wash your back for you. 'ere, is there anything special you want to try, by the way?" she asked.

There was, but I thought I'd leave it until another time, when I felt more settled with the situation. All this sex suddenly being thrown at me was a little overwhelming.

Well, that's how things played out over the following few months. Millie would fuck my eyes out at least two nights a week and sometimes four or five. The two nights I could guarantee were always the night before and the night after she had her day off with Phil. But often she'd come down on other nights as well. Sometimes she stayed most of the night; other times, once she'd worn me out she'd retire to her own bed. And just a couple of times she suddenly appeared early in the morning "for a quickie" as she put it; tapping on the old wooden door to the kitchen if I'd remembered to bolt it.

But most of that was still in the future. It was the third or maybe the fourth week that I was at the pub when the village Bobby came into the bar one afternoon. He'd been in before; well, he was around showing his face along the riverbank most every other day or so. This day he removed his helmet and came into the bar, making a beeline for a stool near where I was loading the glass washer.

Placing his helmet on the bar he said, "Got some paperwork here concerning you, me lad," in more of a friendly tone than anything. "Seems you're on the Met's missing persons register, is that right?"

"Dunno, George. Not exactly missing, am I? After all, I'm standing here and you're sitting there talking to me, aren't you?"

"Come on, son, you know what I mean. Someone has reported you missing and has asked the Met to find out where you are. Now, what do you want me to do? I can tell them where you are, or I can just inform them that I've spoken to you, and that you've assured me that you are here of your own volition, but do not want your whereabouts to be made public knowledge."

"The latter please, George," I told him.

"Very well, son, as you wish. Who's looking for you by the way? Your family?"

"I should imagine so. There's no one else who'd care."

"What about Lindsey?" Millie butted in. I hadn't heard her come into the bar.

"I can't see that, Millie. Lindsey's probably quite happy with her squaddy now that I'm gone!"

"He might have gone back overseas," Millie suggested.

"Come off it, Millie. Surely she's sussed that I know about him by now, and will have probably found herself another mug to string along."

George was sitting there looking from Millie to me and back again. Obviously he was a policeman who knew when it's the right time to ask questions, and when is the right time to shut up and listen.

"Oh, love triangle, was it?" George commented once Millie and I had gone silent. "But why aren't you letting your family know where you are, Mack?"

"'e says they sided with her, George! Mack seems to think he's got it all worked out; but I'm not so sure that he hasn't got things all arse about face. Seems odd that the girl would string him along for over a year, whilst she's got a soldier boy overseas."

"I watched her with him, Millie..."

"But you never saw them in bed together, did you?" Millie butted in. "And that flat of hers, you've still got the key, ain't you?"

"Yes," I replied meekly, not knowing whether I was committing some kind of an offence by still having it in my possession.

"Well, don't make much sense t'me," Millie went on. "You could have walked in on them anytime she had him there, couldn't you? An' did you ever see any signs of him around that place of hers, pictures, or even letters and things from him?"

"No, not that I can recall. But I wasn't looking; I had no idea about him at all," I replied

"Well, don't that seem strange to you. After all, if he's the love of her life that you seem to think he is, and he's out of the country for god knows how long; wouldn't she be writing to him or on the telephone to him all the time. George," Millie said, turning to him, "your daughter's 'usband was stationed abroad, wasn't he? Didn't she get discounted telephone calls from him every few days or something?"

"They were free, I think," George replied. "I can't quite remember now. Look, Mack, I don't know the ins and outs of your troubles. But you can take it from me; what you believe you can plainly see ain't always what really is 'appening, you know. The times I've thought I've nabbed some bugger who I thought was up to no good, only to find out that they were just going about their own legitimate business."

"I know what I saw!" I said angrily.

"But you ain't given Lindsey a chance to explain what you saw, have you, Mack?" Millie chastised me.

"Please, Millie, leave it out. You know talking about her upsets me."

"I know it does, luvver, but you should talk to her, give her the chance to explain, before it's too late."

"It is too late, Millie, believe me!" I retorted.

"Looks to me like the man's made his mind up, Millie my girl," George commented. "I think you're flogging a dead 'orse with this one, girl, trying to get him to change his mind, I mean. Right, son, I'll put you down as a found person and leave it at that then, shall I?"

Without waiting for my answer, George picked his helmet up off the bar, had second thoughts about putting it on under the low ceiling, and bade us farewell and left.

That night Millie joined me in my room shortly after I got there. She asked me if I was annoyed with her about what she'd said whilst the policeman was there. Mind, she did ask just before she started sucking on my cock. Who the hell could be angry with a woman who was demonstrating a skill like that?

I suppose it was about a month after the policeman had called that I got a bit of a shock one day. Damn it, if one of my parent's neighbours and his family wasn't mooring one of the hire craft to the bank outside the pub when I caught sight of them.

Luckily, Bev, her two girls and Millie were all around that morning and I hadn't taken much in the way of time off, since I'd been there. After a quick explanation to Bev, I disappeared into my little domain for the rest of the day and most of the following morning, when the guy and his family finally departed again.

Millie had popped in with some food and for a little entertainment during the day; she spent the night with me as well. It was a well shagged out Mack who was laughed at by the girls when I reappeared the following day.

Similar things were to happen a couple of times over the rest of the summer. I was surprised that so many people that I knew, or who might know me, went on Broads boating holidays. But I'd thought that I'd spotted everybody who might have recognised me, before they actually clapped eyes on me.

As I was, it wasn't someone seeing me, but spotting my car in the car park that led to me eventually being tracked down. With almost all the summer customers, or non-locals, arriving by boat or via the towpath, that was the last thing that I expected.

I was down by the river one morning hunting for stray glasses with Michelle, when Beverley called me back towards the pub.

"There's a young woman in the bar asking for you. I told her I'd send you in," she said to me when I got close to her.

With some trepidation I headed back inside. 'What the fuck does she think she's playing at?' I asked myself on the way in, for some reason assuming it was going to be Lindsey. It wasn't; I discovered my sister, Julia, sitting at a table in the bar, nursing a coffee.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as I took the seat opposite her.

"We've been worried about you, Mack. You might have let us know where you were. Mum's been sick with worry."

"How did you find me here? The police weren't supposed to tell you where I was," I demanded.

"They didn't. It was little Johnny Morris; you know, they live a few doors away from mum. Anyway they were on holiday up here and Johnny said he thought that he recognised your car in the car park whilst he was playing with some other kids. Mrs Morris only told mum the other day so Mike and I took a drive up here on the off chance.

"Well, you shouldn't have bothered and there's no call to worry about me. A little pervert like me will always survive," I replied.

"That was uncalled for, Mack. We are all worried about you."

"Well, don't be! The moment you started calling me a pervert, that told me exactly what you all really thought of me for all your protestations. You don't need a pervert in your lives and I don't need to be around people who think that I am one. My reasons for breaking up with Lindsey had nothing to do with sex. Well, they did, but not the lack of sex between her and me, understand?"

"Then why did you treat her the way you did? She's been a head-case over it as well. You know she's had to go back down to Bath to live with her parents. She lost her job because she was so upset that she couldn't concentrate on her work."

"She'll probably be nearer to him then, won't she?" I retorted.

I'm afraid that my anger had got the best of my tongue. I'd had no intention of letting on to Julia that I knew about Lindsey's other fella.

"Nearer to who? What are you talking about, Mack? Just explain to me please, what is your problem with Lindsey?"

I couldn't retract what I'd said, but I could refuse to say any more.

"I told you right in the beginning, Julia. Lindsey knows exactly what my problem is! She kept it hidden from me for god knows how long, so I should imagine she'd make a bloody good job of hiding it from you. Now are we finished? I've got work to do."

"I know that you want me to go, so I will. But please call mum and dad. They don't deserve to be treated like this."

"And I didn't think I needed to be branded a bleeding pervert either. Seems none of us are happy, doesn't it?"

Julia stood up and went to lean towards me to kiss me, I believe, but I lent backwards away from her.

She shrugged, "I tried. I'm sorry it was me who called you a pervert in the first place. But when Lindsey told me about you and her never having sex, we... I assumed that was your problem with her. I gather it wasn't."

"It sure wasn't, Julia. I was in love with that girl and would have waited forever."

"Yeah, I can see that now. But what...?"

"Ask Lindsey, Julia. She knows."

Julia held out her hand and I shook it very formally.

"I'm sorry, Mack. I hope when you've calmed down enough we can get past this. You are my favourite brother."

"Pervert, you mean," I said and turned back towards the pub's garden leaving her standing there. When I looked back as I went out the door she was leaving by the front entrance into the car park.

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"That weren't a very nice way to talk to your sister, Luvver," Millie said when she came up to me a short while later.

It didn't strike me at the time, but there had been a good ten minutes delay between my sister leaving the bar and Millie approaching me. I discovered later she'd been doing some meddling.

"Were you listening?" I demanded.

"Couldn't very well help but 'ear you in the kitchen, luvver, the way you were shouting."

"I wasn't shouting," I retorted.

"Blimey! Remind me not to be within a couple of miles of you when you do shout then, luvver," Millie said with a grin on her face.

I think I must have laughed as well and the pair of us got back to work.

I think it was later that week or maybe the next, that I had my first bit of fly, as Millie put it.

A family arrived about mid-morning. Husband, wife and two kids, about eight or ten years old. The wife was what I think most guys would have referred to, as a MILF, but she was very quiet and looked kind of withdrawn.

The husband on the other hand was a pretty loudmouthed and somewhat obnoxious individual, who I was sure was half cut when he tied the boat up just along the river from the pub. The whole family came into the garden for lunch. The husband somehow managed to trip over someone else's mooring lines on the way, he went base-over-apex and finished up in the river.

He went back to the boat to dry out and change, whilst the mother came on to the pub garden with the children. I took her order and remember thinking that she was some looker. Once he'd arrived, I couldn't understand what she was doing hooked up with the likes of her husband. They stayed in the garden all afternoon, not only eating lunch but dinner there as well. The children played on the swings whilst the parents sat; he drank, she looked pissed off about how much he was drinking.

Around eight-ish the mother took the children back to the boat whilst Mr Obnoxious engaged in a kind of slanging match with several different groups of people in the garden. Twice Bev went down and asked him to lower his voice. It wasn't fighting talk from the guy, more that kind of drunk 'know it all' drivel that gets on a lot of peoples' nerves.

I noticed at closing time he was still there, lying across a bench, snoring away to his heart's content. It was as I came out and made my way to my little flat later. Oh, we were still under the pretence - except where Millie was concerned - that there was no internal access to the flat.

Anyway I could hear a disturbance out in the dark somewhere and see torches flashing about. When I made my way down to investigate, I found the woman and another man trying to get the drunk to his feet. They told me that they were worried he'd wake up during the night and try to make his own way back to the boat. Remembering what Millie had said about her guy John, I agreed it would be dangerous to leave him there and offered to help.

Between the other man - who I never did get a good look at in the dark - and myself we hoisted the drunk up and carried him back to his boat, the wife or MILF guiding us by torchlight. Getting the drunk onto the boat was no mean feat, but we eventually achieved it. Getting him down the stairs into the master cabin, I thought was going to be impossible. In the end, the stranger lowered him down to me and I just kind of swung his bulk onto the double berth where he lay still, and snoring. I don't think his rhythm had changed during the whole strenuous exercise.

In the light of the cabin, I could see that the MILF – okay, her name turned out to be Mary, well, that's what she told me – was dressed in nothing but a pair of Wellington boots, a negligee and a short overcoat, most probably her husband's by the look of it. The coat had come undone in the struggle to get the husband on board and all of her assets were on display.

When she saw me looking at her, she quickly closed the coat blushing profusely. I said I'd better be going and climbed the stairs out of the cabin. There was something not right about the tableau I'd seen of her standing there. The coat was of the zip-up kind, and zips - whilst they can partially open under the strain of wearers exertions - they don't normally come completely open and disconnected of their own volition, especially without the wearer noticing they have.

"Oh, you haven't got a torch; I'd better come with you to light your path," Mary said hurriedly, "We can't have you tripping and falling into the water, after all the trouble we've put you through." Then she climbed down onto the riverbank with me and began leading the way back towards the pub.

I recognised the stumble for what it was the moment she made her very bad job of pretending to fall. She turned in the process, and finished up in my arms. I know I can be pretty stupid sometimes, but I knew when a kiss was required. She responded and we stood there kissing for a while, then we walked the rest of the way back to my little flat with our arms around each other.

There was no hesitation at the door. She walked right into my little den of iniquity, kicking her boots off at the door, then she turned and we went into a clinch.

"I don't want you to think I do this kind of thing all the time," she said, but I need someone to hold me close tonight." Then she added when we broke the kiss, "If he keeps up this drinking lark, I'll have to divorce him."

"You'll have to excuse me. I've been working all day and I need a shower," I said, breaking away from her grasp.

"Is it big enough for me to join you?" Mary asked.

Well, if it was big enough for Millie's knockers and me to play around in there, there was going to be plenty of room for this woman's lithe frame. I didn't actually say that to her though.

I'm not sure that Mary was all that into oral sex, when she started. I felt a certain resistance when I gently pushed her down on me in the shower. She seemed to take to it like a duck to water though, even though she coughed and choked a little the first time I came in her mouth. She did swallow though and, without a second thought about it, later during the night.

I could also see that she was a bit surprised at the size of my cock. I had never thought of it as large, even with the way that Millie went on about it. I'd just assumed that Millie was stroking my ego. But Mary also appeared impressed with it and asked me to go easy the first time I pushed it in her. Pretty soon she was giving as good as she got though and nearly bucked me off a couple of times. And later she went pretty crazy when she got on top.

Eventually my earnest friend had had enough and wouldn't stand up to play anymore, but she kept on talking and sucking at it, begging it to stand up again. She managed to get him up one final time after we'd slept for a while, just before daybreak when, after playing cowgirl again, she left, telling me that she'd had the best sex of her life and that she was planning a return match the next week, when they came back with the boat.

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"Jesus, six!" Millie said the following evening when she arrived in my room.

"Sorry?" I replied not fathoming what Millie was blabbering on about.

"You fucked her six times last night!" Millie replied.

"How do you know?"

"I counted how many condoms were left in the box," she grinned at me. "I heard you two going at it when I came down last night; so I thought I'd better leave you to it. Bugger, Mack, you used six condoms. Did she suck you off as well?"

"Yeah, three times altogether?"

"It was that little sexy one with the drunk husband, wasn't it?"