The wedding was a very happy occasion. The bride in white, though Paul knew that was not strictly appropriate, His knowledge, which he kept to himself, was not hearsay - he had seen the act himself on more than one occasion! The wedding breakfast was most enjoyable with even wine to drink. There was a little puzzlement amongst other guests as to how he fitted into the newly married couple's lives. Neither relation nor known friend but Paul was completely honest - to a point - he explained he was just someone they had travelled with on the train. And it was by train they set off on honeymoon. Everyone coming down to the railway station to see them off. The whistle going and the happy couple waving from the window as the carriages slipped down the platform and away as the train gathered speed. They had a compartment to themselves. Paul wondered whether... but thought it more than likely they would wait to consummate the marriage in bed despite the importance railway compartments had held in their courtship!
The new evening class started as the summer turned to Autumn but no longer did Paul have the pleasure of company in his railway compartment on the way home. Occasionally someone else might be there or get in. Once even the walrus moustached gentleman was his companion for the journey. He carefully set his hat next to him on the seat before unfolding 'The Times' but it was clear he did not recognise Paul.
Often enough Paul would sleep as he had done before but sometimes he just sat there thinking and remembering. It had been a wonderful time. If only he could find a girl or rather woman as lovely as Ann. If only they still journeyed and were happy to let him join in. If only.
Sometimes he thought of perhaps getting his handkerchief out and gently wanking on the journey: pleasantly stroking himself imagining and remembering and letting the semen flow - but he never did. He even thought of taking all his clothes off and standing as he had done more than a few times naked, almost painfully erect and holding the luggage rack remembering how soft Ann's hands and lips had been: but he never did. To do such things seemed to risk spoiling the memory.
It was a whole two years later when he saw Ann and Bill again. The weather had been atrocious and he had missed the last bus home. He had been visiting a friend right on the other side of town, not for an evening in the pub but an evening playing Bridge. It was not an impossible distance by any means to walk, a matter of a few miles only, but the night was dark and the rain had simply poured down. When he bent his head the water poured from the brim of his hat; his trousers flapped uncomfortably - they were totally drenched around his ankles; his socks were soaked and his shoes squelched and his overcoat was no longer keeping the rain out. Turning into a street he almost bumped into a couple hurrying the other way. It was Bill and Ann.
"Paul!"
A firm handshake from Bill, a peck on the cheek - a very wet and cold cheek - from Ann.
It was not a time for talking but,"You're soaked! Come back to our place for a cup of tea and to dry out. We left the fire burning."
There was no chance of drying out, not the way he dripped on the tiled hall floor of their little terraced house. It was not a modern house with electric fires and the like but something from the last century. Normal enough but with all the Victorian fuss of panelled doors and the like. It was cosy, nonetheless, in the sitting room with the coals burning away in the fireplace. It was obvious to everyone, including himself, that he was soaked through.
Outside there was a flash of lightning, "Look," said Ann, "you can't go home in all that and you can't stay like that; you'll catch your death. Get those wet things off."
"But..."
"Don't be silly, I've seen you without clothes before. Remember?"
Paul remembered. How could he forget!
"I'll get you a blanket."
And so Paul unbuttoned his sodden raincoat.
"You really caught it didn't you," said Bill.
By the time Ann returned with a blanket. Bill was standing without tie, socks, trousers or coat. He paused.
"Paul, that shirt is as wet as if I'd just lifted it out of the tub."
She began to hang his things on a clothes horse by the fire.
And when the shirt was off.
"You're being a bit shy, old man, come on, those as well," commented Bill.
Off came the vest leaving Paul in just his pants.
"They're wringing as well."
One moment Paul had been hurrying home: minutes later he was standing in Bill and Ann's front room without a stitch on with his two friends looking at him. There was not actually much to see. The cold and the rain had seen to that!
Being naked with Ann and Bill had more than a hint of the old times about it.
"Wrap this around you, and I'll get the tea."
And so Paul found himself sitting in front of a building fire wrapped in a blanket, but otherwise naked, drinking tea and catching up with his fully clothed friends. It was all about what they had been doing, how the honeymoon had gone and nothing at all about how Bill and Ann had found sleeping together and how sex had been. No mention, either, that the newlyweds had moved on from Bill wearing a condom but that was more than a little obvious to Paul. Under Ann's dress her tummy bulged. She was more than a little pregnant.
Half an hour later and Ann felt Paul's clothes. Steam had been rising but they were not at all dry. "You'll have to stay the night. We have a spare bed."
Paul would not have minded sharing theirs but that was not something he said. He felt a lot warmer now and could have stood putting on his wet things and heading home but it was so much pleasanter to accept their kind offer. It would be good seeing them in the morning and sharing breakfast. It was really good to see them again.
Ann showed him up to their spare room. It was a tiny little room but it did have a single bed neatly made up with a neatly folded towel upon it.
"You can borrow a pair of Bill's pyjamas if you like, but..." There was a pause, "I'll, I'll get you a glass of water."
The 'but' intrigued Paul. What had Ann been about to say?
The water was produced but oddly not the pyjamas. Washed and without pyjamas Paul got into bed and switched off the light. It was really nice being invited to stay. Nice to hear his friends moving about and getting ready for bed. Feet across the landing; the bathroom door opening and closing. He imagined Ann in the bathroom washing, perhaps in just her bra or even less.
He could not help it, he imagined her naked. He had thought her pretty enough before but, if anything, she looked even more so now pregnant. Her face had fattened a little and she looked simply 'blooming.' He thought her swollen stomach actually made her look just that bit more attractive. Was it the association with sex and what Bill had done? Lovely to imagine them together on a bed, perhaps Bill on top, making a baby, his bottom rising and falling as his penis - not this time clothed in latex - slid easily within her. Inside the bed clothes Paul's own penis firmed. He reached and held. A few strokes but, however much he wanted to come, he could not possibly do that. Could not do the thing Bill's penis had so evidently done within Ann. His clothes and importantly his handkerchief were downstairs drying in front of the fire. He could hardly leave Ann with somewhat 'starched' sheets to wash - even if she had washed his semen impregnated handkerchief before now. No, he could not do that though, given it was days since he had done that in his own bed, there was always the risk of a wet dream. They still happened sometimes. Rather nice to wake from some really erotic dream and find his penis spurting away all by itself.
There was a knock at his door and Bill put his head around. "You comfortable, mate?"
Comfortable certainly - and erect. A trifle embarrassing really. Not that Bill could see.
"Yes, snug as anything. You and Ann are very kind."
