My apologies again for the delay in posting this chapter in the series β I cannot get at my computer with two teenage kids vying to see who can download the most musical crap onto their I-Pods.
Just a short recap of the previous chapters for those who came in late. I had been caught giving my father-in law's raddled old cook a doggy fuck by both he and my young wife, Bethany. Banished to a small fishing town to help run the local cannery, I ended up managing it after the resident manager died. I was taken in by big generous Maude who helped me assimilate and introduced me to a bunch of old tarts who also assisted my healthy well being. I had a plot to rid the town of my father-in-law who owned the cannery. Now read on .......
I wandered down the hill towards the canning factory feeling pleasantly satiated after a lunch comprising beautiful crab sandwiches plus a fast and furious table ender fuck with Sheila, Raewyn's enormous mother. The only problem was that my recently emptied balls were nestled in a cool puddle of our combined fluids, ninety per cent of which was hers. For an old tart, she had plenty of juice.
Entering the cannery, I endured the usual cat calls and lascivious remarks from the filleting line plus a couple of hints long the lines that they knew where I'd been cos the smell of wet, slimy pussy coming from me was greater than the smell of fish that they were dicing up. I had my coat held in front of my flies because I'd already felt the wet patch and wondered yet again how they all seemed to know what I'd been up to and who I'd been up. Maude Biggs, my landlady and bed warmer smiled lovingly at me and winked. She was not the jealous type and I was profoundly grateful. I had left a nagging bitch, banished to the ends of the earth by my vengeful father in law, only to find a haven of the generosity of spirit unlike anything I'd previously experienced.
I trudged up the stairs to the office, rolling my arse due to the relative discomfort of the now coolish pool of viscous fluids that my balls were stewing in and to stir the old tarts up and the resultant whistles and cat calls did much for my male ego. They were a rowdy lot but with hearts as big as the sun. I loved them and knew that almost all of them were on for a quick shag or two, or a slow one for that matter. I was supposed to be in purgatory but once Maude had opened her legs and her heart, I had been in heaven.
I closed the door on the cacophony of yowls from the old cats and scurried into my office to take refuge behind my desk before Raewyn spotted the wet patch on the front of my trousers. Raewyn was my plain faced office assistant, a computer geek with a rough and ready tongue and the body of a sumo wrestler. She was wearing her usual attire of pink shapeless sweater and formless jeans. It was her mother that had deposited her cuntal juices in my jocks.
Rae got up from her desk and followed me into my office, wrinkling her rather cute nose as she did. "Derek, I think we have to look at the proofing up here. I swear the smell of fish is stronger in here than normal!"
I quickly looked at the door but she was no dumbo, she'd spotted the tell tale reddening of my cheeks, and to my amazement she smiled broadly virtually transforming her normally serious face into something reasonably attractive. "Then again, me mam does make strong crab sandwiches!" She turned and strolled out of the office, her shoulders shaking as she fought to control her mirth. "The program I ran was good and you can have all the data you want now. I'll have it on your desk within an hour," she called over her shoulder.
I ran for the adjoining wash room and spent the best part of ten minutes sopping up her mothers lusty juices and holding my trousers under the hand dryer. Reasonably respectable, I was talking to a marketing mate of mine when Rae returned with a sheaf of paper. "This makes interesting reading, Derek, but for the life of me I don't understand why you want this stuff. It reads like a death knell. Shrinking returns, reducing production and rising costs, it has all the signs of a business going to the wall."
I said nothing and spent the next couple of hours verifying exactly what she said vaguely aware that the hum of the machinery had died away as the production line finished for the day. My father in law, Benjamin Goodhew would be appalled but I had found the answer that I had suspected all along. I was grinning broadly when Rae appeared at the door.
"You can't possibly be happy with that lot!" she growled. "We will have to shut down and the town will die. All the women that work here will lose their jobs, and so will I."