Breadown Cover

I had shopping to do that morning, so at around nine thirty, I went home. And by one in the afternoon I was at the farm to collect the children. But when I got there, and found Mary, she said, "Oh the kids have been fine. No trouble at all. They're all in the play barn, so they'll be safe there until you're ready to go." And with that, she walked me out of the farm shop, I guess, so as to be away from the hearing of others, and then said, "Uncle Trevor has told me to go ahead and work on our Bob. So I'll start on that tonight. I won't push it too hard right off, as he's a typical man. If he thinks I'm interfering or trying to give him advice, he'll dig his heals in, and get bloody minded."

"Oh. Are you saying he might not want any extra help?"

"Don't be silly. What I'm saying is, he doesn't yet know he wants it. But don't worry, a few days, or maybe week, and I'll have him eating out of my hand."

"Well thank you, I guess."

"What's wrong? You look disappointed."

"Well, I thought, the way Trevor was talking, that it was as good as a forgone conclusion."

"It is. Look, I wasn't going to mention this. But I guess we're both adults. I know about..." She stopped, I guess because of my sharp intake of breath and shocked facial expression. And then before I'd said anything, she continued, "It's alright. Don't look so worried. Ok. I'll tell you what. Before I mention anything about you and my uncles, I'll tell you about my sordid secret. Maybe then you won't feel so threatened by the fact I know yours. Do you know my brother Bob?"

"No. I've never met him."

"But I know you've met my uncles?"

I blushed at the inference contained within that question, as I answered, "Yes."

"Well our Bob is in many ways, a younger version of Uncle Bill. Shy when it comes to socializing, and to some this makes him appear simple or backward. But like Bill is into his mechanical things, and is only happy when he's fixing them. Then our Bob spends all his energies in his farmwork. And that doesn't matter whether it's the livestock side, or the arable. He's got an in built talent for both. But being as he devotes so much time to it, it can make him irritable at times."

"But you said he enjoyed it?"

"He does. But unlike Uncle Bill, our Bob wasn't always a recluse. In fact, as a teenager he picked-up with a local barmaid. And being as she educated him in the pleasures of the flesh, it left him with an itch that needs a regular scratching."

"You mean sex?"

"Of course I mean sex. She was far older than Bob, and she'd already got a reputation. But she saw Bob's inheritance prospects as a meal ticket. So she cast her rod, and snagged him; hook line and sinker. But our dad knew what her game was, and he soon queered her pitch. And it was probably that experience that curtailed the development of our Bob's social skills. So anyway, the upshot is, once or twice a month, he starts to get unbearable. Not nasty, but moody. This wouldn't be so bad on its own, but once he gets like that, it affects his sleep, and eating. And then gradually even his abilities to work properly. I won't go into details about how I found a cure for his problem. Well I guess it's not really a cure, just a treatment. But it was many years ago, within a couple of months of dad sending the barmaid packing. And I've been treating him ever since. So now you know my secret, you can see there's no need to feel embarrassed about yours."

"But are you really saying what I think you are?"

"Ok. I'll spell it out in plain language, so there's no confusion. I let our Bob fuck me."

"Oh my, but you're married."

"To Sam, yes. He knows. He didn't, not when we first got married. But it's easier to just be honest with him; you know, once I knew Sam was man enough to accept it."

"He doesn't mind?"

"No. So long as it doesn't affect his rations. But surely your husband, James isn't it? Surely he doesn't mind either. According to Trevor, he was all for them giving your itch a regular scratching?"

I blushed again, "Yes it was James who suggested it. But I think it was Trevor who talked James around to it."

"And are you glad?"

"I don't know. I mean sometimes, I feel like James was in some way betraying me; kind of selling me off to the highest bidder. And other times, well it's difficult to say how I feel. The feelings themselves make me feel so guilty for feeling them. But I can't help enjoying the sex, even though I know I'll feel guilty afterwards."

"But why? Your husband has given you the green light, so you'd be silly to miss out on our family inheritance."

"Inheritance? I'm not in line to inherit anything from your family."

"No, it's the male line in our family who inherits the prise. It's obviously in the family gene pool. But whereas all the males in the family line can show-off with it, it's the females that they go with that reap the benefits." And then she winked at me. And when I still hadn't twigged, she said, "God, you are slow. Or are you trying to say your James is as well endowed as Trevor and Bill?"

As the realisation of what she'd been saying came to me, I blushed, and stuttered out, "N. No. I didn't realise you were talking about the size of their thingies. Are you saying Bob's big as well?"

"Big, it's bloody enormous. And dad is. But with his heart condition, his is only good for pissing through now."

I chuckled, and then asked, "You don't do it with your dad?"

"No. Not for years anyway. But since his turn, someone's got to get him dressed in the morning and bathed and ready for bed at night."

"Are you saying you used to?"

"I think I've confessed enough for one day. But back to you and your situation. Surely last night was the best night's sex you've ever had?"

Again I blushed as I confessed, "I guess so. But it still doesn't feel right, enjoying that kind of thing with someone who isn't my husband."

"I'd not worry about that. He's given you the go ahead, and those guilt pangs will diminish with every occasion. So much so, that by the time you've been at it a couple of months, you'll look back and wonder what all the fuss was about. Believe me, I know from experience. Incest is a far more worrying sin than simply fucking a neighbour."

She was so blasé about the whole thing, but I was still cringing with embarrassment as I asked, "But why are you bringing all this stuff up? What has it got to do with me getting a job?"

"Well first off, I just want you to know how powerful the weapons are that I'm going to be using to fight your cause."

"Oh God! You mean you'll have to offer yourself for sex with your brother Bob?"

"Well yes. But as I've already said, I do that on a fairly regular basis anyway. No, it's more that during the sex, he's obviously more pliable. It's amazing what it's possible to get him to agree to in the last minute before he shoots his cum. You've seen my Range Rover." And with that she winked.

"Oh my. You didn't. Did you?"

"Well a girl has to have some perks. Don't look so shocked."

"No, I'm not. Honest."

"Ok then, what about you?"

"You mean what I did with Trevor and Bill last night?"

"No silly, that's water under the bridge now. I'm asking how you're fixed if it looks like our Bob needs a little more encouragement?"

"Oh God no. You don't mean I might have to let him have me as well?"

"Well the job is to help you out. If I'm putting my two penneth in, it'd be encouraging to know you're willing to back me up?"

"But Trevor never mentioned anything about that kind of thing."

"He maybe thought I'd manage it on my own. Which I likely will. But I don't want to be using up all my credits to get you a job, only to find that you're not willing to dip into your reserves. After all, it's obvious that a fresh fanny will have a greater pulling power than one he's already got regular access to."

"But my husband hasn't agreed to this."

"I see. You need his permission?"

"Not as such. But I feel guilty enough going with Trevor and Bill, and he arranged that."

"Not the first time, he didn't."

"Oh God! I didn't know you knew about that."

"That's by the by. Why not ring him, and ask if this job is worth putting out your fanny?"

"I guess I could. But that would make me feel like I was asking to be allowed to be unfaithful."

"You're fucking the uncles every Friday night. So you're already being unfaithful."

In a dejected tone, I quietly said, "Yes, I suppose I am. But..."

"Never mind your buts; if you're not willing to fuck our Bob, then I can't see why I should bother trying to sort out a job for you."

"Please don't think I'm taking you or your efforts to help me for granted. But it's obvious that you're far more comfortable with this kind of thing than I am."

"What are you inferring? That I'm some kind of slut?"

"No. That's not what I meant. It's just that you seem to take it all in your stride; like it's not a big deal."

"Its not; unless you want to make it one. I'm assuming you spread your legs any time your husband wants a fuck?"

I coyly replied, "Well yes."

"And from what Trevor told me, you didn't take much in the way of persuasion before you stopped struggling. And from then on, he said you went at it like a wild cat. So why are you pretending this is such a big deal?"

"I'm not. Not as such. But that first time with your uncles, it'd been so long since James and I had made love. Once they got me aroused, I just couldn't help myself. And it seems that since then it's just one thing after another. I'm frightened it's getting out of control."

"Well I've made my position clear. If you're not prepared to put yourself out, then I think you can forget any job here."

"If I say I'll let him, will it be just the once? You know; a kind of a bribe to get the job? Or will he expect me to let him have me whenever he wants to?"

"Does your husband have you whenever he gets the urge?"

"I see. That was what I was afraid of."

"Afraid! Of a man? You've got to be kidding me. No matter how big his cock is, there's not been a man born that can out fuck a woman. He'll be fucked out and on his knees and you'll not even have broken into a sweat."

"No. I didn't mean afraid in that sense. I just meant it was like I just said; it's all building up so quickly and I feel like I'm losing control."

"Ok, it's your life. But I thought this job was to help you gain control and get your husband back into your own bed?"

"It is, or do I mean was."

"Only you can answer that question. I guess so long as you're getting a regular Friday nights fucking from my uncles, this job and your husband returning to a normal shift pattern aren't as much of a priority as they were."

"Oh God! That's not the reason. Honest."

"Oh well. I guess it's time you collected your kids."

"No please. I'll do it. If that's the price I'll have to pay, your brother can have me."

"Ok then. But who knows, maybe I'll be able to persuade him without involving you."

"Oh if you could, I'd be so grateful."

"Well we'll have to see. But now I think it's time I got on, and that means we'd better roundup your kids for you."

So as we now walked towards their specially equipped play-barn, I asked, "How long d'you think it'll be before you know whether he'll agree to give me a job?"

"Ah well. There's a compulsory time delay of a week starting tomorrow."

"Delay, why is that?"

She looked down, and pointing towards her crotch area, said, "The monthly curse."

I blushed as I said, "Oh, I'm sorry. I never thought."

"No problem. I'll start dropping hints as soon as I see him. But working on him in earnest will have to wait."

So I collected my children and headed off home. The following Friday the children repeated their sleepover and I repeated mine with Trevor and Bill. And as far as mine went, it was as mind blowing as the previous one. And on the Saturday morning, I was still on a high; proving Mary's prediction about the guilt lessoning with every occurrence.

And at around midday, when I arrived to collect the children, that was her first question, "So, how was it last night?"

And even though we'd talked frankly the week before on the same subject, I still blushed as I replied, "It was good."

"Is that all. To hear Uncle Trevor talk, I'd have expected at least a great, or maybe even a mind blowing."

"Ok. Yes, it was. But I feel so guilty for enjoying it so much."

"Well don't. Oh, and on the job front, I think it looks promising."

"But I thought you said you wouldn't be able to start your persuasion until next week?"

"That's why I say it's looking so promising. All I've done so far is to layout some basic problems that I've suggested could be fixed with another pair of hands working flexible hours. And he's already nibbling at the bait. So when I play my trump card, I'm pretty confident he'll go for it."

"D'you mean without the need for me to get involved?"

"It looks that way. But I'd not count my chickens until they're hatched. Anyway, as I've told Bob we're rushed off our feet, we'd better get your kids rounded up, so I can look busy."

So with little more spoken about that subject, I collected my children and made my way back home. Again, nothing of any consequence happened during the week, until the Friday night sleepover. And that in itself was a replay of the two previous Friday nights. The Saturday midday again saw me arriving at the farm, and being greeted by Mary. But this time it was me who spoke first. I was so eager to know if there was any news on the job front. "Dare I ask?"

"Of course you can ask. But I'm sorry to say, he won't make up his mind until he's talked with the accountant who does the books for the farm. He's always been overcautious that way."

"But you think he might still go for it?"

"Oh I'm sure he will. Tell you what. He's seeing the accountant next Thursday morning. So if it's good news, I'll pop over to your place on Thursday evening. Will your husband be home by then?"

"Yes, he should be back Wednesday afternoon. Why, did you want to see him?"

"Not especially. But it would be nice to see his face when I break the good news."

"Yes, that's providing it is good news."

"Well if it isn't, I'll not be making you a visit; I'll just keep working on Bob, and maybe then have to consider enlisting your help."

"Ah well. Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

So again I collected the children and went home. As usual my period arrived on Tuesday, the day before James arrived back from his three weeks away. His first words were, a very sheepish inquiry, "So how was it? Have you been visiting Trevor and Bill?"

I kissed him, with a very passionate kiss. Then mildly blushing, I said, "Yes. Every Friday. And I've been stopping with them overnight."

"And?"

"And what? D'you mean the job?"

"No. I wasn't referring to the job. But I guess once you've told me how you got on, on you're Friday night visits; it'd be nice to know what progress has been made on the job front."

By now, the children had realised their dad was home, and they were bearing down on us rapidly. So I said, "We can't talk now. Not about this. I'll tell you all, once were on our own."

"Just tell me if it helped?"

"Yes, it helped. Now let's get inside."

James resisted any further questions until we'd packed the children off to bed, and as I sat alongside him on the settee, his arm went around me and he said, "Ok, am I going to get a full blow by blow description? Or just a curt, it helped."

"Neither. I'm definitely not going into detail. But I'll explain what happened and how I felt."

I then went on to tell him about how having sex with Trevor and Bill that first Friday whilst he was away, had sated any underlying cravings. But that for the first few days afterwards, I'd been racked with guilt. He obviously assured me that I had no reason to feel guilty. And I then went on to explain that the following week, the guilty feelings had diminished some what. And that since my visit last Friday, I'd hardly had any negative feelings at all.

"Oh I'm so glad. So can I take it that you'll keep up your Friday nights until I can get my shift pattern changed?"

"I was thinking of keeping it going permanently."

The look on his face was almost cartoon like, as he spluttered out, "B But it was only..." I burst out laughing the instant I'd seen his reaction, and as he realised I'd been joking, he stopped mid-sentence, and then said, "Why you little minx. I've a good mind to put you over my knee and spank your bottom."

"Will you pull my knickers down first?"

"I might just do that."

"You're sounding more like Trevor every day."

"Why? He's never spanked your bare bottom, has he?"

"No. But it was a threat of that sort, which started this whole ball rolling."

"Tell me."

So I related the details of Trevor's threats, regarding settling our debts with money. And surprisingly, talking about it now to James was so easy. So much so, I re-run the whole thing, missing out very little of the detail. Very much as I've done in part one of my story. And it was only when I'd got to the detailed descriptions of that first Friday nights sex, that I once again couldn't bring myself to reveal all.

But as I stopped relating the events, James said, "Those nights with Trevor and Bill are definitely helping; I've never known you talking so openly about things of that sort. And as for you joking about making your weekly visits a permanent feature; you really had me going there."

"Who said I was joking?"

"You were. Weren't you? You laughed about it."

"Maybe I was laughing at the look on your face."

"Ok. So were you joking?"

"I was. But would it worry you if I hadn't been?"

"I'm not sure. But why would you want to keep seeing them when I'm at home?"

"Guilt."

"Guilt? I thought you felt guilty when you did visit them?"

"I did. But I told you. Not so much anymore. And being as we've used them to our ends, shouldn't we feel guilty if we cut off their rations the instant we no longer need their help?"

"I never thought of it like that. I just thought you going with them was killing two birds with one stone. They got to have you, and you got your need satisfied. D'you really think you'll need to keep up your Friday night visit?"

"It wouldn't need to be a Friday night, and maybe not a regular weekly thing. But in fairness to the efforts they've put into helping you out, I think you ought to offer them some reward."

"You're serious. Aren't you?"

The silly thing about this conversation; is that, that first comment I'd made, was simply a joke. And even as I'd then decided to string him along further, it was just to see his reaction. But at some time during my stringing him along, a combination of the butterflies in my tummy and the logic of my false argument, kind of took over. And now he'd asked this question, I had to think carefully before I answered. "Would it be a problem to you if I was?"

"I don't know. Is it really the guilt of using them? Or is it having two strangers making love to you?"

"Well for one, after sleeping over with them at their house on three separate nights, I can't call them strangers. And during those sleepovers, there was no lovemaking. There's was lust, and they fucked me."

"Ok. Being as you're being so forthright about it, I'll call a spade a spade. Are you saying you want to keep seeing them, because you'll miss having two men fucking you?"

"Not as such. The reasons I've given you are valid ones. But if you're asking if I'll miss them if we stop it altogether, then yes."

"I see."

"Are you disappointed in me?"

"Not disappointed. Just surprised. I thought with them being old men, they'd maybe help you when nothing else was available. But I expected that once I got home, you'd be glad to get someone nearer your own age in bed with you."