The Touch

WARNING TO READERS - This is a long, rambling, multi-part story and VERY British. The individual chapters will make more sense if read in sequence.

Chapter 3. Dating Debbie

I felt a lot more relaxed after my time with Sharon; it's amazing what a seriously good shag can do to put the world to rights, although the next morning I was knackered and my cock felt as if it had been wrung out. The intensity of the desires and urges started to taper off and the whole situation became more manageable. The emotional backlash that seemed to follow these intense sexual encounters, wore off after only a few hours and already I was starting to anticipate my next experience.

By the end of September the summer rush was over and things had slowed down at the garden centre although I was still spending most of my time there. Maggie seemed to be pleased with my progress and gave me a hike in salary and Jack told me that I had a genuine talent for gardening. It was true that I did have the knack for making things grow and was developing some simple skills in the art of garden design under Maggie's tuition and she had even taken me with her to a couple of times when she went to client's houses to advise on garden landscaping. The new semester was starting at the universities; Joanna had already left for Cardiff and Debbie would be following her in a few days although both would be returning to help out again at Christmas. There was now only going to be the six of us left, Me, Maggie, Jack and the three college guys, Uncle Ben had been working at the centre less and less during the past year and now was only about when a piece of machinery needed fixing.

The last day of the month Maggie beckoned me into the office, poured me a mug of coffee then reached into the desk drawer and produced an enamelled ID badge which she placed face down on the desktop. The badges had been my idea, each displayed the garden centre logo, the name of the wearer and a small full face photo, I had got the idea from Mum's nurse's badge. They gave the staff an identity when dealing with customers and were good security ID when out on deliveries. She indicated for me to pick it up. At first it looked just the same as the one that I was wearing and then I noticed the change, in bold white letters across the bottom, under my name was the title 'Assistant Manager'. I felt my face flush with pleasure and said something like, "Wow, this is really great.... but why?"

Maggie smiled, "Simple," she said, "I just want you to work even harder and do even longer hours, OK?" She chuckled, that really soft deep, sexy chuckle that I always found slightly arousing, "from now on you are the one in charge when I am out and I also want you to start getting involved with the decision making around here." She fished into the drawer again and slid a full set of keys to garden centre towards me; I noticed that there were also keys to her house and the garages on the ring. "There is one condition, however....my girls will be finishing boarding school at Christmas and coming home for a few weeks before going to France for a gap year, and I want you to be nice to them this time!"

Maggie has two daughters, the twins, Lucinda and Lauren, about six weeks older than me, we had all played together happily as children but as they got older we drifted apart and I came to believe that they were stuck-up, spoiled, little twats. I had upset everybody at Easter by bickering with them constantly when the family got together, and ended by causing a riot when I soaked both with dirty water when scrubbing out one of the green houses. They were taking the piss and so I did it just for the fun, and was totally unrepentant! They had been home again this summer and Maggie tried to get them to help around the garden centre but they really weren't interested and went off into Salisbury most days, so, to my relief, I hardly saw them at all. I do remember noticing that they had suddenly developed quite impressive figures, had stopped dressing in identical outfits, and were actually really nice looking girls.

"You can pick up the reins right now," Maggie said, "I need to go up to London for a few days, so you will be the boss until Monday!" Today was Thursday which meant that I would be flying solo for three days, but it felt good that Maggie trusted me. We chatted for a while about what was needful to be done over the weekend, and then I pinned on my new badge and sauntered out into the yard, proud as a peacock and looking for someone to show off to.

Debbie was in one of the greenhouses when I finally tracked her down. She was always a jolly, happy, bouncy girl and she smothered me with effusive congratulations, and over the top praise about my prowess as a gardener and potential as a manager, throwing her arms around my neck and giving me a big wet kiss on the mouth. She was leaving the centre on Friday and I suddenly thought of that last erotic day Alice had spent here which gave me the nudge that I needed to make my play.

"Debs," I started as casually as possible. "It is your last day tomorrow, so do you fancy going into town for a drink after work, or we could catch a film, or go for a meal?"

"Are you actually asking me out on a date?" she asked, giggling, "I didn't think you would ever get around to it......Joanna and me had a bet on which of the three of us you would ask first, but we had given you up as a forlorn hope, I guess I won, eh"

"Is that a yes or a no?" I pouted. I had made up my mind to experiment further with my theory about 'The Touch', and had banked on her agreeing to a date.

"It's yes, of course you silly sod!" she laughed, "I'll bring a change of gear in tomorrow and we can go straight after work......just bring plenty of money, you have no idea how much booze it takes to get me pissed and keep me that way all evening." She giggled again then flounced off back to her greenhouse. I just stood there, and then started to laugh when I remembered the Debbie was virtually tee-total. Her father had bought her a clapped out old Mini when she started university and paid the tax and insurance for her on the strict condition that she would not drink and drive and she loved that old car far too much to risk loosing it.

The garden centre kept what Jack called 'farmer's hours'; in those days we opened an hour or so after dawn and closed at sunset, so our hours were considerably shorter during the winter months. Except during Christmas fortnight, business was much slower between November and March and the saving on lighting made up for the extra we had to spend heating some of the greenhouses.

Sunset was at 6.45pm that night so it was about 7 when Debbie and I met up in the car park. We had decided to take her car into Salisbury and I had locked the moped safely in the secure tool shed where we kept the expensive equipment. In truth I was not worried about getting home, if everything worked out well, I wouldn't have to. If not, then I would get Debbie to drop me back at the centre, or I would take a taxi from where-ever we ended up.

Debbie looked nice. She had a pretty if somewhat chubby face, which was suntanned from working in the garden centre all summer and she wore no make-up except for a pale pink lipstick. She was short and quite plump with large tits that jiggled when she walked and bounced up and down when she laughed. Her hair was dark brown and shoulder length. She normally wore it loose, but tonight had twisted it into pony tail which was turned up and held with a coloured band so that the end stood up like a shaving brush at the back of her head. That little upright tail fascinated me and I could not resist teasing her by flicking my palm over the end, a sensation that I found mildly erotic.

Evenings were starting to turn cooler and she had dressed in a short wool skirt of dark green, which emphasised her soft round buttocks; thick green tights and a green cardigan over a very tight white polo neck jumper which did nothing to disguise the movements of her big breasts,. I thought the outfit made her look like a school girl and found that a bit of a turn on. I wore my usual, a decent pair of black jeans and plain white t-shirt, with my black, waxed bikers' jacket.

We parked near the market and walked into town for a burger and chips as neither of us had eaten since lunchtime. After eating we had a wander around the town and then stopped in at The Market Inn on Butcher's Row for a drink. I did not want to go to the King's Head that night in case we ran into Sharon. The pub was buzzing, I jostled my way to the bar and bought a pint of bitter for myself and an orange juice for Debbie then we found a table in a corner and sat down.

Debbie was a cheerful, bubbly girl, she had a fantastic personality and was always fun to be with, although she could be a bit of an exhibitionist and her sense of humour tended towards the really vulgar at times. Tonight she was right on form and I think we had the whole pub amused by the way we sat in the corner howling with laughter. I was just glad that nobody else could hear the really smutty gags we were telling each other, or the outrageously filthy way Debs was flirting with me.

It was well after nine by the time we had sloshed down another couple of drinks. I did not really drink a lot, the result of having a drunk for a father, and I really hated not being fully in control; but I could hold my beer fairly well and three pints had made me a bit cheeky but I was not at all pissed. We left the Market Inn and decided to drive out on the Wilton Road to a pub Debbie had heard of that had a disco on Friday nights. Debbie had stuck to fruit juices and was sober as a judge but probably appeared slightly rat arsed to onlookers as we ran hand in hand back to the car, laughing loudly and messing about, jumping on and off of low walls and leapfrogging over a line of bollards in the road.

The disco turned out to be a waste of time. The disc jockey appeared to be an amateur, the live band was total crap and the dance floor and bar was full of half pissed teenage yokels from the nearby village. We stayed for an hour or so, sitting outside at one of the picnic tables with our drinks. It was starting get a lot cooler and Debs shivered, then shuffled up the bench seat and pressed her self close to me. I put my arm around her shoulders and we sat that way quietly for a while, just chatting about my work, her sociology degree studies and our families.

Debbie's father was a city accountant and they had lived in Salisbury whilst she was at school so she had grown up here. After she went to Uni, her parents had moved to Maidenhead which was nearer to London, so that her father had less distance to commute each day. She told me that she had chosen to come back to Salisbury for the summer holiday because here is where all her friends were. Her father owned a caravan on a site off the Southampton Road and that was where she and Joanna had been living whilst on summer break.

She was easy to talk to and I told her about Dad disappearing and the struggle Mum and I went through in the years after, about Emma being a total little cow and about how, Maggie had come through for me time after time. She dug me in the ribs with her elbow then hugged my arm possessively and said wryly," I think I need to keep an eye on your Auntie....it sounds to me like she might fancy you!"

I put on a mock expression of shocked horror and quipped back "Do you REALLY think so," I clapped a hand to my forehead in dismay, "Oh, God ....what am I going to do? Save me....save me!" and slumped onto the table top pretending to sob loudly. The older couple at the next table must have though we were complete prats.

Debbie did a typically Debbie thing. She stood up on the bench beside me raised a hand dramatically and between giggles shouted loudly in a mock Irish accent, "I'll save you Jamie, me boyo!" Every body stopped what they were doing to look at us, "You come into the cow shed with me and I'll fuck you stupid until you'll be no use to any other woman...ever!" We both collapsed with laughter and so did some of the younger customers, but the old boy on the next table didn't see the funny side.

"You dirty little sods," he shouted, "why don't you bugger off back to the city where you belong!"

We realised that we had probably outstayed our welcome, so sheepishly made apologies to all and sundry then made our way back to the car holding onto each other and bent almost double with laughter. We sat in the old Mini on the car park until our giggles subsided, then I looked at my watch and said "It is just after eleven, if you want to go on somewhere else we will need to go back into town to a club or a pub with a late extension?"

"No, not really," Debbie answered, "I would rather just go home for a cup of tea .....you can come back if you want to?"

Silly question..."did I want to!" I mentally crowed and punched the air and was glad that it was dark in the car so that she could not see my wide grin, "Yeah, that sounds great ...let's go." I was not sure if there was any real sexual chemistry between us already, maybe it was just flirting for fun, Debbie was a good mate, but I was not going to let that interfere with my trying to get her into the sack.

We drove to the caravan park where she was living and I was quite surprised, it was like a little village and instead of the touring vans I had pictured, these were static trailers like little cottages, gas, electricity, running water everything, really neat. Her van was almost new and fitted out very smartly. There was a kitchenette, a tiny shower room and loo, a large lounge come bedroom and another, smaller bedroom at one end. This appeared to have been Joanna's room judging by the female debris scattered about and the poster of Phil Collins over the bed. Debbie obviously slept in the main room as the seats were pulled down into a double bed complete with duvet and pillows. There was a bra which could only have belonged to someone Debbie's size hanging over one of the wall lights and a pale pink towelling dressing gown and fluffy slippers on the end of the bed. The sight of her bed and the thought of Debbie in it made me start to feel quite randy and expectant.

She put a kettle on the hob, got out two mugs and started to make tea for herself and coffee for me. I took off my coat and slumped onto one of the bench seats opposite the bed. She brought the mug of coffee to me then sat on the edge of the bed, kicked off her shoes and curled her legs up under her on the bed. Her skirt hiked up a bit and a flash of white inside thigh surprised me, she was actually wearing stockings, not tights, not with suspenders but the sort that hold themselves up with elastic or something.

We both started laughing and recalling the stupid events of the evening, then she got up from the bed and went over to the kitchen unit with her cup. "It gets fucking freezing in here at night now," she said shivering "but it isn't worth putting the heating on for just one day." I remembered that she was leaving for Cardiff on Sunday. "If you want another coffee, just make one," she added, then "I shall be back in a minute." She scooped up the dressing gown and slippers and disappeared into the bathroom, I heard the shower come on. I smiled thinking of her wedging her rotund form into that miniature shower cabinet and imagined what those big tits would look like all lathered up and wet.

She literally was only a couple of minutes and re-appeared wearing the dressing gown and had a fluffy white towel around her hair. "Fastest way to get warm in here," she quipped, and started rubbing herself all over, using the towelling dressing gown to dry her from the inside. I had kicked my trainers off whilst she was in the shower, and silently padded up behind her and put my hands on her waist and started to make little rubbing, drying motions.

"You look as though you need a hand here," I joked, "particularly at the front, lots of work there for a strong man."

"Go away you randy sod!" she chuckled, "I know your dirty little game, you think if you get your paws on a girl's knockers there will be no stopping you....next thing you'll be looking for somewhere to stick that horny great ramrod of yours," she giggled, then added in a comic posh falsetto, "a lady, 'like what I am', expects at least some mouth to mouth, a bit of decent foreplay, oh......and another cup of tea." With that she turned and bounced onto the bed, and sat with her back against the headboard and the cover over her feet.

"OK," I laughed, "If that is what it takes, tea coming up" But it had not passed notice that she had not pushed my hands away, and that she had now shuffled over so that she was lying on the far side of the bed, leaving ample room for me to get on beside her. She had discarded the towel and I noticed that her hair seemed perfectly dry, and was still twisted into that little brush at the back of her head; maybe she had used a shower cap? I quickly made her tea and stood the mug on the night shelf over the bed then as casually as possible sat on the bed swung my legs up so that we were now sitting side by side. I turned my head to look at her and saw she was sitting with her arms crossed and her face comically stern, then, both together we burst into another fit of giggling, I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards me in a friendly hug. Then, as if by an unspoken agreement we leaned in and touched lips. We stayed in that position for a while, half sitting, half lying and half turned towards each other, kissing tentatively.

Debbie's kisses were not deep or passionate, and she seemed a bit reluctant when I probed into her mouth with my tongue but gradually started to relax and after a while her tongue began to seek mine. For several minutes we experimented with kissing styles, thrusting our tongues at each other or with lips slightly apart but not touching and the tip of my tongue just lightly flicking the tip of hers. I began to suspect the despite Debbie's sexy talk, and vulgar flirting she was not very experienced with sex or love making.

After a few minutes the half sitting position started to become uncomfortable for both of us and by unspoken agreement we slid down the bed so that we were lying facing each other my left arm beneath her neck and my right hand resting on her round hip. I pulled her face closer so that we could continue snogging and slid my free hand up over her waist to cup her tit through the thick robe. She made no attempt to stop me but I noticed that her breathing became slightly heavier; she had closed her eyes and had clamped her thighs tightly together and generally seemed a bit tense.

I moved my hand again pushing slowly into the front of her dressing gown. The top of her tit felt soft and round and the whole breast moved fluidly under my hand as I slid it downwards seeking the nipple, which was suddenly there beneath my fingers. Her teat was large and soft the surrounding aureola felt rough with tiny pimples, it was like having sex by Braille. I squeezed at the nipple with little tweaking motions and felt it start to harden slightly. My hand moved further downwards pushing the front of the gown open more and my fingers made small brushing movements across her bare ribs and belly.

I desperately wanted to see her tits and broke the kiss so that I could look down, then nudged her over onto her back. Her nipples were still covered by the dressing gown but I could see the swell of her breasts and brought my face down to kiss the exposed flesh and slide the fabric aside so that her large pink nipples were visible. Her eyes were now open and she was watching my face intently, she was smiling but at the same time looked slightly frightened or worried. I kissed, licked and nibbled around the nearest nipple which rewarded my efforts by hardening to a large, firm, erect knob, like the end of a babies thumb. It must have felt good because Debbie started to make tiny shivering movements and brought her hand up to affectionately stroke my hair.