(But first – a health warning! If you're one of the appreciative, but limited number of, readers who have been following my 'Ambridge' series in the 'Celebrities' section – read no further. You'll find the plot somewhat familiar. I just thought, with the amount of effort that goes into these stories, I'd try for a wider audience ...)
"Good-morning, Joe," Claire Gordon greeted her father-in-law cheerfully as she bustled round the kitchen in her robe, fresh from her morning shower.
"I don't see what's so good about it," he grumbled as he picked up the cup of tea waiting for him, and drank it noisily, looking round for the morning paper.
"Where's Eddie?" he asked. "Isn't he up yet?"
"He's been up for ages," replied Claire, heaping four rashers of bacon and two eggs on to Joe's plate. "He's laying paving slabs for Linda this morning. He went half an hour ago."
"Better him than me," said Joe, attacking his breakfast vigorously. "That woman could talk for England – she drives me mad."
"What about you?" Claire asked. "Have you anything 'on' this morning?"
"No – nothing much," came the indistinct reply, as Joe mopped up the remains of his egg yolk with a piece of bread.
"Well, I'm on the lunchtime shift down at the pub," Claire announced as she picked up Joe's plate and carried it over to the sink, dropping it into the basinful of hot water. Turning round, she leaned against the sink and folded her arms in front of her.
"So, I've got a good hour before I have to start getting ready," she said. Her father-in-law looked up at her.
"Is there anything you need, while I've got a bit of free time, then, Joe?" she said, her voice a little lower than before.
"What have you got on under that robe?" he asked, his eyes glittering.
"Why don't you come over and find out?" As she spoke, Claire's tongue slid over her lips, and she watched as Joe levered himself out of his chair and crossed the kitchen floor. She unfolded her arms and put her hands on the edge of the sink, supporting herself with her arms.
Joe's rough, gnarled hand reached up and pushed the material of one side of her robe aside. A full, heavy naked breast was revealed. Joe's fingers closed round it and his index finger and thumb gripped the thick brown nipple and twisted it. Claire gasped and closed her eyes.
"Ah, you've got lovely tits," said Joe. "My Susan had nipples like yours, God rest her. Her tits weren't so big, though."
He always said that, Claire reflected, but she did love the way he treated her breasts – roughly, painfully, sometimes, but it always aroused her. He had never kissed her – she wouldn't want him to. To Joe, sex was an animal act and it excited Claire to be treated the way a stallion would service a brood mare. Not that Joe was everyone's idea of a stallion, but, for an old man, he was astonishingly virile and his cock was half as big again as his son Eddie's – Claire's husband.
Joe's other hand was already busy unbuttoning his trousers and Claire reached down to help him. As usual, his cock was already hard and it was difficult to get it out. Joe gave up in disgust and left it to Claire, raising his other hand to drag the top half of her robe fully open so that he could grab her other breast.
As he twisted her stubby nipples, Claire felt the wetness between her thighs and her mouth dried with excitement as she released his penis and it slapped against her palm. The tip was already leaking and her fingers grew sticky. She gripped his cock at the base and flooded as her fingers failed to meet round its circumference and she anticipated it stretching the mouth of her vagina as it pushed its way into her.
As a young bride, when she had first come to live at the farm, Claire had been very careful about locking the bathroom door and getting fully dressed before she emerged from the bedroom she and Eddie shared. Not that Joe ever tried anything with her, but she could sense his eyes on her, especially if she was bent over, showing a bit of cleavage, or sitting awkwardly, affording a view up her skirt.
Eddie, of course, never noticed a thing and she never talked about it to him. As far as Eddie was concerned, Claire was his wife, pure and simple. It would never occur to him that his own father could think of his daughter-in-law in a sexual context.
Things had been different with Eddie's brother, Alex. He had never made any secret of his sexual interest in his fresh young sister-in-law, and Eddie, who looked upon his no-good elder brother as some sort of a hero, had been quite unable to cope with the situation. Fortunately, when Claire first arrived at the farm, Alex had been serving time in the Army.
But he came out, a year after the wedding and, from that point on, Claire had never felt safe. Whenever he was in a room with her on his own, he bombarded her with suggestive remarks about what she and Eddie got up to, in bed, together – and, even worse, he lost no opportunity to touch her whenever he had a chance. His favourite trick was to creep up behind her when she was reaching up to a cupboard and grab her breasts from behind, holding her in a tight hug, so that she could feel the pressure of his erection against her bottom as she squirmed and wriggled in his embrace.
At first, Claire had said nothing to Eddie, and had coped as best she could by taking pains to ensure that she was alone with Alex as seldom as possible, but the dam had burst the morning he had caught her returning to the bedroom, after a bath. Claire had been wearing a robe, but nothing underneath, and Alex had pinned her up against a wall and thrust his hand inside her robe, and between her legs ......
Claire would never forget the shock as his middle finger slid inside her moist vagina, or his mocking laughter as she wrenched herself free and fled to the bedroom, in tears. The other thing she would never forget was the arousal she had felt afterwards. At first, she had cowered in the room, terrified that Alex would come in after her, but then she heard the front door slam and, looking down from the window, saw Alex jump into the old van and roar off down the farm track.
It was then that she realised, for the first time, that her vagina had been wet when Alex had slid his finger inside her – and that it still was – even more so. The thumping of her heart, which she had attributed to fear, she now realised, had more than a little sexual arousal mixed in with it and, as she contemplated what might have happened if Alex had pursued her into the bedroom, she felt her insides turn to liquid and couldn't stop her own hand straying down between her thighs ......
It was the first time she had masturbated since she had been married and, when it was over, and she had enjoyed a tumultuous climax, her conscience – and her fears – kicked in and she had forced herself to confront Eddie. In all fairness to him, her nerve had failed her when describing the extent of Alex's advances, and she hadn't been able to confess that he had fingered her pussy, but she had told her husband about his brother's sly tit-gropes – and Eddie had said he would talk to Alex.
Claire often recalled the night Eddie 'talked' to his brother. She was had spent the evening, alone, in the house, watching an old black and white 'weepie' on television, with a bottle of sweet white wine for company, and was feeling quite relaxed when Eddie and Alex returned from the pub. It was clear, right from the moment they came through the door, that Alex had managed to get his younger brother very drunk, while remaining relatively sober, himself.
It took a little longer for Claire to realise that their 'talk' had consisted, mainly, of Eddie boasting about his love-making technique, and prowess, and that, by the time Alex had worked on him for three hours, he was determined to give Alex a demonstration ......
At first, the danger signals hadn't been clear – it wasn't the first time Eddie had rolled home from the pub, his ardour greatly enhanced by several pints of beer – and, probably, a series of increasingly lustful leers down the barmaid's cleavage – and Claire was prepared to fend off his drunken advances with a certain amount of indulgent good humour – and even give in to them, later on, in the privacy of their bedroom ......
But she hadn't reckoned with Alex's intervention. As she wriggled free from Eddie's attempted embrace for the umpteenth time, with increasing irritation, another pair of hands gripped her upper arms, and Alex pulled her back on to him, so that she was lying across his chest, on the settee, her arms pinioned by her sides.
Eddie had just cackled drunkenly and knelt on the rug beside the settee, his hands falling on to his young wife's large, unprotected breasts, fondling them openly in front of his watching brother.
Claire had kicked and screamed, but they had ignored her protests, laughing, and Eddie, becoming more and more excited by the minute, had begun to wrestle with the buttons on her blouse. Claire couldn't believe what was happening as he finally lost patience and tore at the thin nylon, tearing it away from the buttons.
As her blouse fell apart, Claire felt real fear. Eddie had done things like this before, and she had found it exciting, feeling the strength – the rawness – of his desire for her. But this was different – they weren't alone. Her lacy bra was practically transparent, and she shuddered as she thought of Alex leering down at her virtually exposed breasts.