The Paul And Jenny Stories Pt 15J

The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 15j: Another June Wedding Part 10

Copyright 2001 by Paul. All rights reserved. All events and characters are fictitious.

* * * * *

Spain 1937.

Roland Wagstaffe.

At the edge of the village we had the party cross some shrub land to the road leading up to the Villa. Miguel, Sister Hortencia and I crept towards the village centre. I tried to persuade her to remove her habit and dress in something that didn't stand out as much but she refused. She was a member of the Order and this was their dress and that was it.

I could see a truck parked across the entrance to the Village Square and behind it, parked in a row were three other trucks and two Black Limousines. A lot of people were gathered around the far entrance to the square. There looked to be a motorcycle combination on which were sat two people with a third in the passenger chair. As I watched the two on the Bike were dragged from it and held up against a wall with a gun to each of their heads. The passenger in the chair stood up and climbed out by themselves and appeared to be addressing the men that were starting to close around him. No it was a woman. She was wearing a divided riding skirt. Margaret had one just like it.

"We can't wait." Miguel urged pointing with Roddrego's rifle towards the Trucks. "This may be our only chance."

"What about Conchita and the Presidents staff?" I asked.

"I know where Conchita is." Miguel said. "She is in that building the men are being held against. I will come back for her. When we take these vehicles these men will either follow us to get them back or move back towards Malaga to get more. Then I can come back."

"Quickly. We must hurry." Sister Hortencia had perhaps six or seven women with her. "The men have left the women in these houses while they see what is happening in the square."

All the women were wide eyed with fear. Few had much in the way of clothing. I recognised the Presidents staff.

"Are the Sisters of your order here?" I asked.

"No." Sister Hortencia turned her head away. "They will not be coming with us."

"We will get you away from here." I promised the other women.

"Climb into the back of this vehicle." Sister Hortencia said opening the driver's door. "The key is in place."

"We must go or nobody will be safe." Miguel urged.

I felt sorry for the people who had entered the square on the motorbike but they were providing the distraction we required. Or at least the woman was. The two men were nowhere in sight. Probably locked inside the building where Conchita was so that nobody would miss the fun. They had their hands all over the woman's body. Pushing her from side to side and tearing at her clothes.

We moved quickly to the other trucks taking the keys from the one we would not be driving. At the cars I plunged my knife into one of the tyres on each.

I looked again to where the men had formed a circle around the woman. Two men were holding her and a third was standing in front of her. He was fondling her breasts. Then his hand disappeared from view. I hurried back to the truck I was going to drive. I climbed aboard and was about to switch on the engine when I heard her call out. In English. A voice I'd recognise anywhere. It was Margaret.

What was she doing here? Miguel and Sister Hortencia had already started their engines and were moving away. Men were turning towards us. Weapons were being raised. I didn't have time to plan. I switched on the engine, smashed the windscreen with the butt of my rifle and drove towards the men and my wife. I fired once, releasing the steering wheel to cock and fire again and again. Then I was amongst them. I heard somebody scream as I drove over him. The Passenger door was opened and I turned the rifle towards it. Holding back the pressure on the trigger as Margaret climbed in then squeezing it and firing into the face of the man behind her.

Men were running in all directions. I shot one in the back and another in the leg. I saw two others fall. And looked across the square to where Miguel was firing Roddrego's rifle from the cab of his truck.

"Quickly." Margaret urged. "Back into the door."

I threw the gear lever into reverse and over-revving the engine slipped the clutch. The engine screamed its protest but lumbered backwards into the building behind me. Margaret reached across and took the rifle from my hands and fired it into the doorway of a house nearby.

I engaged first gear and pulled away. As I did so I looked into my door mirror and saw Alistair hit a man with his artificial hand. The man dropped as if he had been shot and Alistair disappeared from view. I stopped. I heard a voice shout "All right." And I drove off.

Somebody was firing a weapon from the back of the truck. No, there were two weapons.

Somebody was firing back at us. I heard a bullet ping off the metal roof of the cab. Somebody shouted in pain.

Miguel was driving out of the square ahead of me. I followed as fast as I could get the vehicle to move. Shots were still being fired from the back of the Truck. Then we had left the square.

I looked at Margaret. Her cheeks were flushed and there was a light in her eyes. Her naked breasts looked bruised and I could see her triangle of pubic hairs. I looked ahead.

"Well?" She asked. "Aren't you going to give me your shirt to wear?"

I struggled from it. She gasped as she saw the bandage on my back and shoulder.

"You're hurt."

"It's nothing." I assured her and in fact I had forgotten all about it in the sudden excitement.

It decided it was time to let me know it was there by throbbing none too gently.

I winced as she helped me pull my arm from my shirtsleeve.

"Are you sure you are all right?" There was a note of concern in her voice.

She had just been man handled and molested by a bunch of thugs. Been stripped and then shot at and she was more concerned about me.

I reached across and squeezed her thigh. Her legs opened. I felt the soft warm skin along the inside of her leg.

"Is everything all right in here?"

I imagined I heard a clang as Margaret's legs quickly closed. Alistair's head was at the driver's window.

"We're fine." She replied rather breathlessly. "Is David all right?"

"David?" I asked.

"He got nicked."

"Stop the lorry and let me see him." Margaret insisted.

"He'll be all right." Alistair assured her. "That young lady is looking after him."

"Her name's Conchita." I said. "She's Miguel's niece."

"Right." Alistair nodded. "What's your plan."

"We're picking up these." I said, nodding ahead to where the other two Trucks were pulling up. "Then we head around to the coast road and through Malaga back to Gib."

"If we're going through Malaga then we have a boat there. I think it will be safer going by that."

I pulled up behind the other two vehicles and, leaving the engine running, went to help organise the loading of the Trucks and scrounge another shirt for myself and something for Margaret to wear. The Mother Superior was standing with the President and his wife next to Roddrego in the Donkey Trap.

"Senore Wagstaffe." The President's wife said as I approached. "You talk to the Mother. Explain she must come with us."

"My place is at my Convent." The Mother Superior insisted.

"You know what they did to your fellow sisters." I said.

I didn't know exactly what they had done myself but I could imagine.

"Yes." She crossed herself. "That is more reason to go back so we can pray for the gift of forgiveness."

"You want to forgive them?" David asked incredulously.

I looked at him and the dark stain on his shirt on the outside of his ribs. Then at Conchita who stood about a foot behind him. He lifted his arm slightly and grimaced. His shirt was open and I could see that somebody had tied a piece of cloth around his chest.

"We must forgive them." Sister Hortencia joined in.

"But not you." The Mother Superior placed her hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "It is my wish that you go with these brave men who are risking so much to help our people. Drive your vehicle for them and when you all are safe then tell the Bishop what is happening."

I thought Sister Hortencia was about to argue but all she said was "Yes, Reverend Mother." The Mother Superior kissed her on both cheeks and Sister Hortencia went to where the other Nuns were gathering after helping load the villagers. There was a lot more kissing and hugging there.

"May I suggest Mother Superior." Alistair started in his very precise Spanish. "That you do not take the road back to the village but return across country."

The Mother Superior looked at him then nodded.

Miguel called.

"We are ready, Amigos."

"We must go." I said. "Best of luck."

"I do not think we need luck, young man." The Mother Superior replied. "We have God."

She made the sign of the cross over me then turned away. The other members of her order fell in behind her, one leading the Donkey trap, as she started walking up the side of the hill. I hoped they'd be all right.

We drove through the village below the President's Villa without seeing a soul. I heard a dog bark but that was it.

We continued on, stopping once to pick up two men and their wives and five children. One of the men carried a revolver.

We drove on stopping at the outskirts of Malaga to scavenge for food and drink in the abandoned houses. We came up with a number of bottles of wine; some two-day old bread; smoked meats; tomatoes and cheese. I felt our most pressing concern would be for water, especially for the children. It was getting hot.

We drove on again stopping at each corner to check the way was clear ahead. In the main square we could see some people shifting through the debris either in search of food or valuables. They scattered when they saw us.

We took the road to the sea front with my Truck leading and Alistair and David standing behind the driver's cabin with their weapons in their hands.

The gate was hanging loose and there were a number of seabirds congregating around an object. They took to flight as we drove past. I looked and hoped that nobody else did.

We drove onto the Quay. The boat wasn't there.

* * * * *

Somerset 1972.

Jenny.

David had paused in his story telling and was taking a sip from his mug of tea when we all heard the front door bell ring. Mary went to answer it whilst David and I remained seated. I studied the line of his jaw as he starred out towards the high moors. It was a good, strong jaw line. He hadn't shaved yet and his skin was sprouting lots of tiny black hairs. I imagined his cheeks rubbing between the insides of my thighs. Paul's stubble was till soft in the mornings and tickled. I didn't think David's would.

There were voices in the kitchen and we both turned our heads to the sounds. I could feel his eyes on me. I wondered if my dressing gown was open. Should I move or let him look? I sat still.

Suddenly we were all moving. Mary and my parents were coming from the kitchen and David was getting to his feet to greet them and I was pulling my dressing gown tight about my body.

"Morning Dear." My mother said bending and kissing me on the cheek, she was dressed for the wedding. "Did you sleep well or were you too excited."

"I slept fine." I said, suddenly stretching and yawning. "Sorry. I did, honestly."

"You'll be all right." My father said, patting my shoulder as he would a dog.

"We have a lot to do this morning." Mary said. "Jenny will want some breakfast then a bath. The hairdresser's arriving at twelve to fix your hair while you dress. Paul's great Aunt Matilda has said that she want's to meet you before the wedding so we expect her at some time. Roddrego and Michael de Vane may drop in on their way from London or they may go straight on to the cottage. Your friends from America are due to arrive soon and your Architect friend and that strange Egyptian and his American wife."

"Linda is an Archaeologist not an Architect and so is Jerez el McToomb."

I tried to point out but everybody seemed to be talking at once. I looked into the kitchen where I could see Shirley. Even in Dressing gown and slippers she looked stunning. I noticed David looking as well. Shirley was looking back. She was smiling at him.

"I'll go and put some toast on and re-fill the kettle." David said suddenly, heading towards the kitchen.

I watched his back as he left. It was a good back. Strong looking shoulders tapering to his hips. I bet that even now he'd strip good.

"Right then." My father was saying. "We are going to pick up Paul and Steve in an hour and take them to the Barbers. Get them both properly shaved. If his stag night had been anything like mine I wouldn't want to trust his fingers with a razor this morning."

I could believe that.

"Who's for toast." Shirley called, standing in the kitchen doorway.

David was standing close behind her. Very close behind her. Did she look a little flushed?

"I'll put some on and bring it out in a minute." She continued, not waiting for a reply.

They both disappeared inside the house.

I had to know what was going on.

"If you'll excuse me." I said, standing up. "I must go to the bathroom."

I heard my mother say something about 'nerves' as I walked into the kitchen. David and Shirley seemed to jump apart. Shirley's dressing gown settling against her buttocks as if something had been beneath it. "Just going to the bathroom." I said, walking through the kitchen avoiding looking at them as they were at me.

"Just putting the bread on." Shirley stammered.

"I'll fetch the teapot." David coughed.

I passed the downstairs cloakroom and went upstairs to my bedroom. I quickly pulled on a pair of panties, my jeans and a thin top.

If Shirley wanted to flaunt her half-naked body in front of him let her.

I imagined his hand beneath her dressing gown. Had he been feeling her ass cheeks and rubbing her anus or fingering her fanny from behind. How long had this been going on? Shirley would stay at Paul's parents quite a few weekends when she was seeing Steve. That seemed to be off at the present but she had still been coming down.

What did they do? Did he sneak into her bedroom when Mary was asleep and quickly enter her or perhaps he didn't play golf every Saturday and Sunday as thought and took her somewhere in his car. Perhaps he took her up in his little Aeroplane. Could you suck somebody off while they were flying an Aeroplane? I wondered what they did. Where they did it.

His office was closed at weekends. Did he take her there? Bend her over his desk. Sit in his big chair and let her bounce up and down on his prick?

How could she? He was old enough to be her father.

Lucky cow.