Dreaming of a White Christmas

All sexual activity is is between consenting adults over eighteen.

This chapter is a massive deviation from previous chapters and is written from Karl's point of view rather than Terry's

Where do I start with this chapter? For a proper start it may be easier if you know who I am; I'm Karl, you have seen Terry mention me in previous chapters.

I'll start September 23rd 2018 13:45, sitting at a picnic table on the veranda of the Village green cricket pavilion with Terry and a pint.

I'll have to quantify that by saying the village has become a borough as the urban sprawl has crawled forever closer and virtually enclosed the village. It's about a couple of miles from the town centre. We've been members of the cricket club and hence the clubhouse bar 'The Cricketers' for a lot of years although my presence has waxed and waned considerably in that time. The clubhouse and pavilion building is described as nearly one hundred and fifty years old, however it has been regularly extended and remodelled and we doubt any of the original timber building still exists, or if it does we have no idea, which parts. The last extension being a decent sized brick building some forty years before to replace and extend the earlier bar area and add three changing rooms, a 'committee room' and toilets, the toilets were recently remodelled and updated to include a disabled section. Jeremy and Jennifer Jackson have been the live-in licensee for around ten years and do a brilliant job of it.

A couple of months back one of the veranda decking boards had rotted and collapsed under the weight of a picnic table, one of the 'A frame' slatted table with a bench each side sort of things. Tom had cut out the rotted section and replaced it with a bit of timber as a temporary botch. In various combinations of two's, he and I along with Terry, who I have classed as my best mate for decades, have had four sessions here to survey the state of the timbers, measure and cut replacements and treat them with copious quantities of weather proofing products. In the meantime, these replacement timbers have been stored in the shipping container within the trees behind the clubhouse, known as 'The Garage' and used for the mowers, rollers and all the other paraphernalia used by the groundsman.

The veranda covers nearly the whole width of the front of the pavilion including the main front door, measures fourteen feet deep and forty-two feet wide, has a felted roof, hand rails across each end and two steps running the whole width, it easily takes eight wooden picnic tables on there although they do tend to get moved around the park.

The weather forecast had been for lovely weather and it was perfect for a day of hard graft, Karl and I arrived well before nine this morning and set about clearing the decking, the side door became the way in and out while we worked. With a combination of wrecking bars and various other levers we removed the decking boards and cut them in half with a circular saw to be ready to dump into Toms truck when he arrived. Removing the three rotted joists required the use of a grinder to remove the well rusted bolts as predicted. A leaf blower was used to clear the exposed asphalt surface below and liberal quantities of weather proofing liquids slavered on all the wooden sub-structure. The precut and treated replacement joists and decking was a perfect fit. Five hours and four packs of three inch nails for the nail guns later the new boards were down and the six picnic tables in place, where the other two were we had no idea. Tom had arrived about a half hour later than us and after strapping the load of rotted timber securely stopped just long enough to get through one pint and left to get to the tip with the old wood, leaving Karl and I to gloat at our handiwork.

"Same again?"

"Thanks Jen."

"It's looking grand."

"We're very pleased with the way it went down to be honest, very much as predicted. Sorry about the smell of the weatherproofing."

"I'm sure it shouldn't smell too long."

We watched a group of strangers cross our new surface and enter the door, a white and a couple of coloured women, and two white men. "Ooo yes I could Karl."

"I thought so Terry, green coat? White girl for me and yes I certainly could."

Jennifer returned some minutes later with pints of bitter and lager. "There you go lads, could one of you do the honours for me?"

"I'll go Terry, I need a piss."

The clubhouse is only open to members and their guests, there is a signing-in book for everyone in accordance with the licensing regulations and any strangers have to be signed in as guests, I assumed the group we had just ogled were about to be my guests. I signed them in on the way to the toilet.

"Know what Terry?"

"What?"

"Knowing your tastes I reckon green coat would be right up your street; Kim Tuck's her name, lovely voice too." I watched his lack of reaction with interest; "Penny for them mate."

"Huh, oh yes, erm sorry."

"Somewhere nice?"

"Erm, oh yes, yes nice."

I gulped some beer down and placed it exactly in the centre of a picnic tables plank; "Hmm, let me see now; watch a pretty lass go by and go very quiet. My conclusion after assessing all of the facts... Terry is in love... Yes?"

"Nah, not like that but yes there is a pretty girl."

"Come on then, all the gory details, spill the beans. Uncle Karl needs to know." I did a drum roll on the table and watched the drink jumping.

"Really isn't simple this time."

"Try me mate."

I watched the cogs rumbling in Terry's head for an eternity, plenty long enough for me to gulp some more beer. "The thing is Karl... Oh heck, promise to keep this under your hat?" He held out his crooked little finger.

I locked mine to it. "Course mate, you know that."

"The thing is... have you ever paid for it?"

"A prostitute? No."

"Well you know how I was interested in breast milk?"

"Oh yes."

"I met up with a coloured girl from an escort site and well I've seen her twice and she has fed me... well to put it simply she is gorgeous."

"Wow, you old dog you."

"Yeahrah, silly old bugger more like."

"Fuck no mate, you go for it. I remember only too well when 'er indoors was feeding the kids. I was so bloody jealous and bloody enjoyed it the few time I got my little share."

Jerry brought our lunch out and we continued chatting but despite the revelation most was about the job we had just done.

I'll come clean now, I'm telling a true story and just about everything here has a massive similarity to the real life events but, but, but in order to protect the guilty all characters and names are made up. I'll start back at the beginning: Thirteenth August 1971. I entered the door of Planned Environment Control Systems, also known as PECS, for the third time. The first being some five months before when I sat an examination. Pretty simple stuff mostly based on Ohms law and mathematics, I don't want to sound big headed but I reckon I scored one-hundred percent or bloody close. Two months later as a spotty sixteen year old I sat before Mister Groves the General manager, Mister Postner the training officer, Ms Hoare from Human resources and Miss Marshal a pretty younger woman, their legal secretary. That was the only job interview I ever attended and it was sooooo scary I nearly shit myself.

Third visit I walked over to the reception desk with my letter and gave my name.

"Good morning Karl, if you will follow me please to our large meeting room."

Gabriella was an older lady, well as a sixteen year old kid they all were, her high heels click clacked on the solid tiled floor until she pushed the door open and walked directly to a seat second from the end of a series of tables set in a 'U' shape; "Mister Postner will be here shortly, can I get you a refreshment; Tea, Coffee, orange juice?"

"Could I just have a water please?"

"Certainly, please take your seat."

I noted my place name on a green card, to my left sat an equally spotty kid and according to his green place name was George, to my right the green cards at the empty seats showed Terry and Harry. Looking further right and following round the 'U' shape of tables I could see three yellow cards, four orange, four red and directly opposite at the far end was five brown. Straight away I recognised the relevance of the colours being the international electrical colour code based on the colours of the rainbow, for some reason it's frequently called the resister colour code although it's used in a plethora of different situations. A total of twenty places and fourteen seats filled. The mechanical digital clock clicked to 07:48.

"Your water Karl."

"Thank you."

The only sound in the room was Gabriella's heels as she click clacked away. A few moments later Audrey did exactly the same with Terry followed by Gabriella with John and Harry at 07:54 and again at 07:58 with Mason.

"Good morning gentlemen, I see no ladies today. I'm Alan Postner, Training Officer for Planned Environment Control Systems, usually known PECS. Most of you," he looked around, "yes I met most of you at your interviews, we had nearly five hundred applicants, seventy-three didn't make it past the paper sift. Over eighty didn't pass the examination." There was a general murmur at that, verging on laughter. "We invited three hundred and seventeen to interview, thirty six didn't respond to the invitation or turn up and another thirteen did respond but didn't come to interview. At interview we were able to eliminate sixty-six. Two hundred and two potential apprentices and we chose twenty-five, offered them a position and five turned it down. You may have noticed there are five different coloured name cards and there should have been five of each. So we have eighteen here and no contact from the other two spaces, if they don't turn up we will probably move one of you from brown team to yellow. Silly to have a five and a two."

"Any questions?... No?... We like questions at any time, anything you don't understand, anything at all. After all of the introductions and various people speaking with you we will invite you to sign a number documents, you are all welcome to take them away with you to take advice elsewhere if you wish."

We sat through countless people talking to us, several workers, Accounts, Human Resources, three Union Reps, a Doctor and a Psychologist. We had several breaks for refreshments, toilet breaks and chat, not that much chatting took place, An elderly lady in a pink house coat regularly changed the tea and coffee flasks and each time we were encouraged refresh our drinks at will.

Helen turned up a couple of hours late to make it nineteen, by the end of the day we had all signed contracts and receipts for basic tool kits and safety equipment, yellow team still only had two members and Mister Postner studied a folder of papers before choosing a member of brown team to move over.

The system which was to be our programme for the next two years being our groups would follow each other round the different departments every two months in colour code order then we would be individually assessed and specialise in the third year.

Our training included block or day release at college and also did a selection of 'outside courses' for example erecting a scaffold tower, cutting and grinding disk changing and use, elevating platform etcetera.

One of those courses was a one week residential course and while there we went to the cinema and somehow blagged our way into a popular adult only film. A film which had caused quite a controversy as it featured a topless woman several times, including breastfeeding her lovers baby and her lover.

PECS employed a number of coloured people and several of the young ladies were very attractive, Terry's interest in them didn't go unnoticed by our team mates and bit by bit he took a shine to coloured celebrities. Tina Turner and Diana Ross were firm favourites as was the coloured girl in the television programme Love Thy Neighbour.

That film made a massive impression on him, it changed his life as breastfeeding became his life fantasy. In those days tattooing hadn't caught on in a big way, in fact tattoo parlours were always little run-down back street properties. The lady in the film had Mild and Bitter tattooed over each nipple and that in itself caught on, I remember a series of articles in a Sunday newspaper as tattoos started becoming more popular and featured several women with low cut tops showing similar designs. I certainly rubbed out a few over those pictures and I imagined the same was true of many of my peers. Any buxom, attractive, coloured girl and Terry would extol the delights of breastfeeding. The same was also true but to a lesser extent for attractive white girls.

The four of us in green team got on well and spent a lot of social time together, not so much Harry as he had no interest in working on cars and of course all we could afford was old and rotten Minis, Morris minors and Ford Anglia's. Somehow Harry was driving a two year old Vauxhall Victor. On top of that, the three of us had pet poodles and regularly chatted about them and went for walks together. Harry didn't like dogs or walking.

As youngsters Terry and I had both been very keen to do the Duke of Edinburgh Award Scheme which involved a lot of walking, or so it seemed, and as youngsters had both been on many family camping holidays. Having turned eighteen we planned to spend six days including the August Bank Holiday hiking and discovered Tentaxi. Basically a man with a Ford Transit van would drive around a selection of camp sites collecting and delivering our kit which meant we could walk with essential supplies in our smaller back packs and know our tents, sleeping bags, cookers, clothes and so on would be at our nominated next stop. That meant we were able to use a bigger tent, one we could almost stand up in and not have a concern about weight or bulk. They also offered a telephone service whereby they would take messages and read them back when we called, remember this was well before mobile phones existed.

We started planning this holiday some six months in advance and getting bits together our excitement grew. Into August the weather forecast was looking good and the first three days were perfect, not too hot, not too cold, no rain, low wind. The fourth day started the same but windier. We had been through several villages by mid afternoon and left the last four miles behind us when the wind started getting up and not long after that it started spitting, not enough to be a problem but enough to start feeling uncomfortable. According to our map there was a public house up ahead and we increased our pace with the plan to have a swift half pint while the rain passed over. About a quarter mile away from the public house the rain got harder and by the time we arrived we were fairly wet as we opened the creaking door and entered.

The public house had obviously been more than one room which had been knocked through, at each end left and right were log fires, the bar ran from the centre of the back wall to the right. By the left fire were four people, two dressed like ourselves as hikers and the others more like dog walkers, something not difficult to make a guess at as there were two black Labradors laying on the floor. We ordered our drinks and sat at the nearby right end fire to steam as we dried out.

The barmaid was typically well endowed and wearing a low cut round necked dress to show a lot off, as it was not busy she spent a fair amount of time regularly alternating between the two positions of leaning elbows or forearms on the bar while talking to us. It was virtually essential her breasts were either squeezed together or resting on her arms which seemed to push them out more. Each time she stood away from the bar she automatically hooked her fingers into the neck line and ran them round to pull the dress and brassiere back to their correct positions.

"Why do you keep doing that?" I asked

"Doing what?"

"That thing with your fingers."

"This?" She demonstrated.

"Yes that."

"I don't want to scare the customers darlin'."

"I'd rather you didn't do it, anyway we are the only two here now."

She laughed and we continued chatting. When the cassette tape finished she moved to change it and automatically went the do the finger thing.

"Uh uh no."

She laughed again and left the dress lower. When she resumed her position the brassiere was showing as was something dark on her left breast and two or three more movements without restoring her clothes it was suddenly obvious she wore the word bitter. I collected my empty glass from the table and stood.

"A bitter please." Gesturing to her breast. After she pulled the drink I added; "Actually I'd have preferred one of those bitters."

She looked down and instantly turned to fix her situation. "Oh I'm sorry darlin'."

"I'm not. I assume the other says 'mild'."

"Oh err n. no." She was obviously embarrassed.

"And a lager please and one for yourself." I watched intently as she flexed her muscles pulling on the pump and a hint of the dark writing kept winking at me. "Is this weather going to last now?"

"Maybe." She placed the drink on the bar then walked to the window. "Looking at that black I reckon it's in for the evening."

I looked at the wall clock to see we had been there for four hours. "I don't suppose you have a room we could take for the night?"

"I have one room with a double bed if you want to share."

I looked to Karl, he answered: "Good to me, we're almost doing that in the tent anyway. I'm hungry too, I don't suppose..."

"I'll see what's in the freezer. It's all pre-packed stuff. Most takes an hour nearly unless I zap it."

She looked, we chose from her verbal list and thirty minutes later all three of us sat at a table to eat. In the meantime she had put a couple of logs on the fires and I'd seen the right breast is lager.

"So you went for lager and bitter."

"Yes very stupid of me."

"Why stupid?"

"Went out with a friend one night for a drink and saw a girl at the disco with them and we talked ourselves into getting them. I regretted it within days. That bloody film has a lot to answer for."

Terry asked; "Do you breastfeed too?" I cringed as he said it.

"Not for a few years now."

"Shame, I fancy doing that since seeing the film."

"Hmm yes. You and a few others."

"Who did you feed then?"

She looked at me him little confused and jerked her head in a bit of a shake. "Ermmm. My babies of course."

"How about your husband?"

She looked down at her meal and moved it around for a moment; "Ya." It was so quiet we almost didn't hear it.

However my cock sprung to attention and with her head still in the dipped position she saw it, judging by Terry's action I assume he was in the same situation.

"How old are your babies?"

"Ah." Her head raised to look at me. "Twenty-three, twenty-two and twenty."

"Years?"

"Yes, years."

"I didn't realise."

"That you fancy suckling milk from your mummy?"

My turn to be embarrassed; "Yes I suppose so. We're both eighteen."

"It shows... it shows. I nearly asked for some sort of ID when you came in." There was some sort of realism jerked into place. "Erm your plans, tomorrow, is Ted expecting to pick your stuff up."

"Who is Ted?"

"Tentaxi. He'll likely come past on his way and the way this rain is now..."

Terry and I chatted through the arrangements and She put the television on for the weather forecast, which was terrible. Eventually we came up with a plan and she picked up the phone to use the rotary dial for the five numbers to tell Ted not to move our kit on.

We sat in the comfy seating by the one fire she kept going, then when she had cleared away the dinner things she sat with us chatting until ten. "Fuck it, no-one else is going to come tonight, I'm going to lock-up." She walked round locking doors and turning lights off. "Come on let's go to bed." The gesture was almost one of offering her hand to hold.