A Northern Welcome

Bedtime Stories Number 8

There's a stereotype in England that Northerners are unfriendly to Southerners, and Yorkshiremen are unfriendly to anyone not from Yorkshire. I don't know if it is true for the menfolk, but it is definitely not the case for their woman, if the hospitality I received last year is anything to go by.

I should say something about myself first. I'm Brian Wells, just knocking sixty and owner of a carpet cleaning business, Doctor Rugg. You should not confuse me with a huge franchise operation with a similar name, just a coincidence, honest. I'd hoped to wind down a few years ago when I took on a sensible lad, Steve, whose parents promised to buy me out if their son worked out okay. After a year, I was all set to enjoy early retirement with my wife Helen when she got a nagging cough. Six weeks later, Helen was diagnosed with lung cancer. It shattered us. Neither of us were smokers. It was very aggressive, beyond treatment, and Helen died just before Christmas the same year.

I was in limbo for a long time. Steve kept me on in the business. He worried about me sitting at home staring at the walls. I knew I was depressed, but could not find a way out of it. Steve persuaded me to accept an invitation to visit old friends up north for a change of scene. Said he could cope with the customers on his own for a while. Truth was, I'd been a spare wheel since I lost Helen and he needed a break from me.

It was freezing that Sunday winter night as my hire car limped onto the forecourt of the country pub in the middle of Nowheresville, North Yorkshire. My fuel warning light was already on twenty miles back, when the police diverted traffic off the motorway because of an accident, just before the services. The detour took me through miles of lifeless farmland. Ten minutes ago I passed a small garage with a pump outside, but it was closed. I just made it to the pub, whereupon my car refused to go any further. Then came the rain. Bloody brilliant.

The old coaching inn looked hospitable from the outside, but the landlord was not. The grumpy looking fifty-something bloke with a comb over told me they were closed for a private function this evening. My foot in the closing door was not what he expected.

"Look, I don't want to be a bother, but police diverted traffic off the motorway before the services and I've run out of petrol. The garage back down the road is closed."

"He's coming to the private function," says the landlord without a hint of sympathy.

A woman's voice from behind him came to my rescue. "Don't be so miserable Jack, can't you see the man is in a bind. Invite him in." She was a big homely woman of about the same age as him. She wore an apron over a party dress. "Please excuse Jack, he can't multitask. Why don't you finish with lights while I see to this customer?" Jack grunted something only she could understand and wandered off. "I'm Betty. How can I help?" Her smile was in direct contrast to her husband's miserable coupon. As if she were with him to restore balance to the universe.

"Thank you Betty, I'm Brian. I'm visiting friends in Catterick, but what with the motorway accident I'm miles off and everything is closed, plus I've run out of petrol. Is there any chance of a bed for the night? I noticed your sign saying rooms."

"Sorry love, we stopped letting rooms three years ago. The trade dropped off and the chambermaid left. I can't change the beds with my back these days."

"Don't you go doing your back in again. I had to do everything myself for a week last time," said Jack, struggling with a string of lights on the top of a small stepladder. He looked like he would end up on his arse.

"Jack, get of that ladder now. You know about your dizzy spells. One of the boys can do it later," Betty admonished him.

I saw my chance. "How about this? I'm in a bind. I'm happy to make my own bed and give you a hand with the lights."

She did not think about it for long. "Okay, offer accepted, Brian. That's very kind of Brian, to offer to help with the lights, isn't it Jack?" said Betty. Again, Jack grunted in husband speak.

Betty rustled me up a sandwich and cup of tea and after a brief rest in my plain but comfortable room I went down to do my chores. I just finished with lights when a chap arrived lugging DJ equipment.

"Sorry I'm late Betty, my mate let me down. I had to load up the van myself," said DJ Dan. He was in his late thirties with highlights and an earring and looked like every wedding DJ you've ever seen. A bit of a lad in his day, but now going to seed. I offered him a hand with his gear and he bought me a pint in return. I sat at the bar with Betty while Dan sound checked, then came over to join us.

"What's the occasion?" I asked.

"It's June's fiftieth. She's Jack's sister-in-law. Her husband owns the garage you passed. That's why it closed early," said Betty.

"Oh, it's a family do. Now I can see why you were reluctant to let anyone in tonight. Sorry Brian," I said.

He grunted something that sounded like, 'That's all right'. I guess he felt I'd earned my bed for the night.

Dan said, "Jack, I've got an idea for a competition. You sing a song and the punters will win a pound for every word they understand." We all laughed, but we heard clear enough when Jack said, "Gerroffya cheeky cunt." Betty sent him to the back with a warning about his language.

Couples started arriving half an hour later. Ruddy farming men looking awkward in their shirts, ties and polished shoes. Their wives had pushed the boat out. Hair done and make-up carefully applied, wearing dresses and shoes more suited to a night out in town. Coats came off to reveal impressive cleavages. I realised the party was quite an event in this isolated community.

Betty noticed my gaze. "These country girls scrub up okay, don't they?" I made a gallant reply. I didn't expect her to broadcast it to the assembly. "Ladies, Brian from London is staying with us tonight. He says you lot could hold your own against any woman in London on a night out in the West End." A cheer went up from the ladies and the men looked at me as if to say don't get them started. Still, it was an icebreaker and several people spoke to me. The social numbness I'd felt since Helen died was thawing.

The DJ played tapes while everyone chatted. After a decent time speaking to their wives and girlfriends, the husbands gravitated to the bar where talk turned to the price of ewes and winter feed. Not subjects a city boy like me had much of an opinion on. I looked over at a table of ladies and caught the eye of Jackie, June's youngest sister, who invited me over. She was a petite woman in her late forties. I put her at five foot three and a hundred pounds, most of which seemed to be in her impressive boobs. Her short dark hair was styled in what I call a pixie cut. Short in the neck but long on top with a jagged fringe that hung just above her eyebrows. Very sexy and refined. She beckoned me to the middle of the horseshoe couch and stood to remove her cardigan as I arrived, struggling with the sleeves.

"Let me help you shrug out of your shrug," I offered.

"Why Brian, you know what it is. That makes you a metrosexual around here," Jackie smiled as she took her cardigan. Her hands lingered on mine.

I glanced over at the farmers propping up the bar. "I'm the only metrosexual in the village." I joked, paraphrasing a line from a popular comedy show. All the women laughed, causing a few heads at the bar to turn.

Jackie wore a fitted black cocktail dress. I admired her bare arms and impressive cleavage. She was pleased I'd noticed. Everybody did, including her husband and his friends at the bar. It was an awkward moment. I turned to the bar. "I hope she's got a licence for those," I joked. The round of laughter seemed to keep everyone happy. Jackie gave me a knowing, sly smile. She was flirting with me and knew I was up for the same.

"Jackie paid for 'em so she can do what she likes with 'em, I say," said an older woman at the end of the arc.

I looked at Jackie, puzzled. "I had a little win on the National Lottery, so I treated myself. Henry had his heart set on a new muck spreader."

I laughed. "I bet Henry got over it in a hurry." I thought it was legitimate to take a quick peak at her chest again.

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" said Jackie. Again, that sly smile. I think she could almost hear me getting hard.

Conversation turned to the late arrival of June, the guest of honour. "She's just phoned. Said to start the dancing. She'll be here soon," Brian announced. An enormous cheer went up, and many of the woman stood. They shielded us from the bar. Jackie leaned in. Her tits were on my arm and her hand on my thigh. She copped a feel of my hard cock and smiled. "You'll like June. She's just like me, but without the tits, so you'll be able to tell us apart." She gave me a peck on the lips and said, "I have to find my husband so he can do his duty before returning to his mates and his drink. Promise you'll dance with me later." My mouth was dry, so I just nodded. I ran my hand across her thighs as she passed, feeling the lace tops of her black stockings. She smiled back at me.

June arrived ten minutes later. She was smiling and complementing her friends on their outfits, but I could tell she was upset. Jackie went to her sister and they had a conversation by the bar. They were like bookends. The same height and general build, although June had a fuller figure. Her hair was a similar short sexy cut to her sister's, but she coloured hers a rich chestnut brown. I could not work out their conversation, but it was clear Jackie was consoling her sister. They glanced over in my direction, whispering and laughing. After a while June was smiling properly.

Jackie steered June over while she organised a tray of drinks for our table. We were introduced, and I helped June out of her coat. She wore a red wrap around dress that crossed at the breasts. Although they were smaller than her sister's enhanced version, they were not small and her push up bra was closing the gap. "All my own work," June whispered as she took her coat to place on the pile behind us. She had the same flirty look as her sister and I knew my cock would be in torment all evening.

June apologised for her lateness. Her husband Ron had dropped something on his foot and it was too painful for him to stand or drive. June had to wait for a friend to collect her because she wanted a drink on her birthday. The glance of recognition flowing through the group told me it was not the first time her husband had let her down. I sat between the two sisters so the conversation was like a tennis match. They had their own shorthand and spoke rapidly, finishing each other's sentences. It was an amusing performance, and I laughed.

"You two are so funny to listen to. I bet you've been like this since you were kids. They both looked at me.

"You understood that, Brian?" said June.

"Most of it, I think?" I explained what I heard. Both sisters smiled.

"You can tell he's not from here, Jackie. He listens to what a woman says, and he understands," said June.

"I think we should bury him in case he tells that lot our secrets," said Jackie, pointing to their husbands drinking at the bar.

"Don't worry, unless it is about the price of ewes or winter feed, I don't think it bothers them," I said.

The sisters looked at each other and laughed. "You've been here two hours and you know everything there is to know about this place," said Jackie caustically.

I leaned forward, and they leaned in so we were not overheard. "As an impartial observer ladies, you are all wasted on these men. You all have taken the trouble to look a million dollars and they are at the bar like they could be any other day of the week."

"I bet you treat your wife better," said June.

I lost my smile as I explained my circumstances. It was a natural dampener. None of us knew what to say next. DJ Dan saved us by launching into a medley of 1970s glam rock hits.

"Come and dance with us Brian." June and Jackie grabbed an arm each and we went onto the small dance area.

Twenty minutes later, I flopped back on the seat for a breather. The girls were still at it. I went to the bar for a round of drinks. A big chap clapped me on the shoulder. "I'm Henry, you were dancing with my wife Jackie." I could not read his body language, but I prepared myself for a fist just in case. He raised his other hand, but he plonked it on my shoulder. I realised I was propping him up. "Thanks, mate. She's enjoying herself. I can't dance, nor can half of these blokes, so you're taking one for the team. Isn't he guys?" Henry turned to the four blokes behind him who grunted their agreement. "Your money's no good here, let me buy that round." Henry produced two twenty quid notes before I could object.

I made my way back with the overloaded tray. "Ladies, the drinks are courtesy of your husbands at the bar, apparently I'm taking one for the team by dancing with you." The ladies raised their glasses in thanks.

"You are doing a magnificent job, Brian. What do you do for a living?" said a lady whose name I still can't recall.

"I'll show you," I said.

I raised my bum off the seat to get my wallet out of my back pocket and the same old girl said, "I knew it! Stranger in the village tonight. He's a strip-o-gram. He's going to get his cock out." There was no answer to that, and the laughing took a couple of minutes to stop. I noticed by the end of it under the table I had June and Jackie's hands on both my thighs and their eyes seemed to dare each other to touch my cock, which was harder than it had been for years. I pulled out a business card from my wallet and handed it to the old girl. "This is what I do."

Her thumb was over the logo so she did not see the cartoon carpet cleaning machine. She squinted at the type. "Oh, he's a medical man, Dr Rugg."

"Don't you mean a doctor of rugs, you know a gynaecologist," said her drunk friend. The table erupted, and both sisters used the diversion to grab my cock, pushing each other's hand off.

I whispered, "Settle down ladies, there's enough to go around... I hope." I took my card back and announced to the group, "I have a carpet cleaning business. All estimates are free so if you have a filthy rug, big or small, give Dr Rugg a call." More laughter this time and the old girl at the end is saying, "Stop it, stop it. I think I've pissed myself." The cackling reached a crescendo, and the men looked over. I gave them my 'taking one for the team' wince and they went back to their drinks.

The music has moved on to the 1980s New Romantics scene and I got both sisters up as I couldn't stand their teasing anymore. The old girl with the bladder problem noticed my hard on and just smiled.

On the dance floor I said, "Do you remember the funny dance they used to do to this one?" I took Jackie by both hands and pulled her toward me, swinging my hip in and my knee up. She mirrored my moves and then we repeated it on the other leg. Jackie shrieked, "Oh my God June, do you remember us doing this in the Sheffield nightclubs when you were at catering college?" I took June's hands and did the same move, and then the two girls did the move together. Others caught on and repeated it in their own fashion, and we swapped partners until everyone had danced with everyone else. We did this for a few numbers and then I dropped out for a breather. I could see the two sisters talking animatedly on the dance floor and looking over now and again. They arrived and sat back down; faces flushed with excitement.

"Brian, you made us remember the good times we had when we were young. You've made my birthday a night to remember," said June. She kissed me on the cheek.

"It's not over yet sis," said Jackie. She leaned over to me. "Brian, I know you would like to fuck us, but you don't know which one you stand you best chance with. Well, you can relax. We've decided to share you."

I looked at each of them. They smiled at my astonishment. "This is the point where I wake up and discover I've spunked my pyjamas."

June said, "You won't be wasting it there, I'm having you first. It's my birthday. Say your good nights and go up to your room, I'll be there in five minutes. Jackie will keep an eye on things down here."

I turned to Jackie and said thanks. She squeezed my cock under the table and told me to save some for her.

It took me longer than five minutes to get away, but moments later there was a knock on the door and June stood there. I was undoing her dress before the door had shut. She found my zip in double quick time. I didn't bother undoing her bra, I just pulled her tits out of the cups and they pointed at me. Her orangey brown areole ended in stubby nipples. I sucked on each tit greedily. I pushed her dress off her shoulders and nibbled them.

"God, you're hornier than I am. Let me see your cock." June was on her knees and my pants and trousers came down together. It's not huge, but it's in proportion for a six-foot bloke. The helmet burst through my foreskin and a drop of pre-cum fell on her tits. June whimpered and put me in her mouth. She grabbed both cheeks of my arse as she thrust her head back and forth. My wife had been a reluctant cock sucker, but June was a real enthusiast. Her tongue tickled the sensitive underside of my helmet. My legs buckled.

"June, I'm going to cum too quickly."

"I want you to Brian, then you'll last longer when you fuck me."

I could not argue with her logic, so I let her suck my balls. We could hear the slow numbers starting downstairs, so we knew we did not have long. June deep throated my cock, making horny gagging sounds. Saliva lubricated her throat, and I slid in further than I thought possible. My climax was quick and with little warning. June had been holding the base of my cock in in two fingers. She released her grip and a flood of spunk rushed up my cock and into her mouth. She swallowed as much and she could, then she pulled me out and my last spurt hit her in the face.

I lifted her onto her feet. My one hand fondled her arse through the black Lycra tights. The other found her cunt. The crotch was soaked with her juices and her thong knickers were embedded between her fleshy lips, which I tweaked through the material. June groaned, I kissed her, tasting my spunk in her mouth. That turned her on, and she ground her cunt against my hand.

I pushed her back on the bed and pulled at her tights, which seemed to be made of some super strength material. Control tights, I found out afterwards. Finally naked, I pushed her knees up to her tits. June's cunt was delightful. A protruding mound with pouting lips and a fine trim of short ginger hair. "How is my rug, Doctor?" June said, looking between her thighs. I looked up at her flushed face and heaving tits and fell upon her like a man possessed. I sucked her cunt and nibbled the lips. June thrashed around. My tongue found her clit and two fingers searched for her g-spot while my little finger teased her puckered arsehole. That was the final straw and June came mouthing a stream of obscenities and ejected a good squirt of juice that soaked the quilt. She was still having aftershocks as I slid into her. "Fuck me, Brian. Fuck me hard and nasty. Fuck me like a whore." It drove me wild. My wife was never that interested in sex talk, but I'd discovered my voice.

"I'll fuck your cunt raw, June. I'm going to fuck it inside out. The lips won't close for a week." Her heels dug into my arse to spur me on. Her cunt gripped my cock as she prepared to come.

"Fuck me Brian, use me. Fuck me like a slut." I grabbed a handful of hair and sucked hard on her nipples. She moaned and thrust back at me. "I'm coming, Brian. Yes, yes, oh my god yes." She spasmed, and I shot my load. I hadn't been with another woman since Helen, but I was surprised I could come again so quickly. I coated her insides with several good spurts, then I started to dry come. After a few painful blanks, I had to pull out. Moments later, my spunk oozed from her lips onto the quilt to make a cocktail with the earlier juices.