Someone Has To Do It
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Part 7
I stood there naked, the flagstones feeling cold on my bare feet, slits gingerly running my finger around the steel collar on my neck, when Finch came back holding a pair of those tough yellow work boots with thick rubber soles, and some thin, faded pale blue jeans.
"These are your size", he told me confidently. "We had your measurements sent over from the dealer."
He stood there and watched as I put them on, and I looked around, waiting for a shirt, or perhaps a sweatshirt, to be produced. Finch saw my expectant look and said "That's all there is. That's the winter uniform for you and Ian, and you'll soon get used to being bare chested all the time - it helps you to work, actually, as in the cold there's a big incentive to keep warm. In the Summer you'll just have the boots."
I stood there in the thin jeans, which fitted quite tightly around my bum and where the outline of my cock was quite visible at the front. "No underwear", he went on, " As you get a fresh pair every morning - it gives the maids something to do to wash and iron those jeans as you boys are never careful enough at stopping your piss dribbling after you've peed."
They were those jeans that are cut quite low in the waist, and I felt they were only really staying up as I've got a nice bum. Just at that moment the back door opened and another bloke came in - this must be the Ian I was supposed to work for, as he was dressed the same as me. He looked just a bit older than I was, but he wasn't as tall, although he looked as if he'd got a lot of power in his body, which was deeply tanned.
"Ian, Steve. Steve, Ian...", Finch said, and Ian came over and grabbed my hand and shook it - the first time anyone had done anything "human" to me for a long time.
"Take Steve up and show him where you male slaves bunk, and then take him out and show him the grounds", Finch told Ian. "Then show him where to clean up and so on - I expect the mistress will want to see him before dinner, as soon as she's back from the City, especially as the master's away...." He smiled as he said this, a smile that was returned by Ian.
"Come on then, mate", he said cheerily - he had a bit of an East London accent - and slapped me on the back, guiding me towards the door out of the room, and then along a passage way, and up a narrow flight of plain wooden stairs. "This is the servants' staircase", he added as we bounded upwards. "The master and mistress and Finch use the proper one at the front, but we're not allowed in there. So we use this corridor and stairs at the back that was part of the original design, they say, to keep the servants away form the owners. They were proper servants then, of course, paid wages and everything. Who'd have thought it would still be useful today?".
He smiled again, and said "Me and the lads call it 'slipping up the back passage', if you know what I mean", and he gave me a broad wink.
We lived right at the top of the house, it seemed, and Ian pointed out that the maids' rooms and stuff were on one side of the staircase at the top, and we were at the other. "And you'd better believe what Finch says about not messing about with the maids....", he told me. "They flogged a lad who was here when I first came for just talking to the maids cheekily - so most of us now say nothing to them at all."
He threw open a door and inside it was a very plain room - just four narrow beds, very close together. The walls were painted a dull grey, and the small dormer window barely provided adequate light. A single bare light bulb dangled from the ceiling. There were no chairs or anything, and no TV. Ian saw me looking and said "I know it's not much, but at least it's warm up here in the winter. And it's a lot better than the way some servants are kept, I'm sure - at least we've got beds, and don't have to sleep on straw in an outhouse!"
He winked at me again, and added "The beds are a bit close together, so it's not very private - Marco and Pavel are only young lads, and sometimes I think they're going to beat themselves raw the way they go about wanking themselves all the time! But we're all men of the world, aren't we...." He glanced down at the front of my jeans, and went on "And I expect you need something to get yourself to sleep.... Finch said you used to fuck guys for a living.... Sounds odd, but he could hardly have made it up.... I've never met a prostitute before - well, not a bloke, anyway: I've seen enough of the others before I was indentured."
"No, it wasn't like that. I was a trainer. A proper trainer, of indentured servants. And some of them had to be trained to take cock - they were going to be bought by men who'd want them to be experienced... So they needed to be trained to take cock..."
"So you fucked them?"
"Yes..."
"Bastard!"
"Look, someone's got to do it! It would be worse for the servants to go out without any experience at all - their new owners might beat them..."
"Cut the crap, Steve! I bet you enjoyed it!"
"No, honestly...."
"Well that's your story, mate, and you stick to it. But what brings you here? It's a bit of a come down from being a trainer, fucking servants, to being one yourself who is certainly going to get fucked when the master gets back, isn't it?"
"It's a long story..."
"Better save it the, for a long winter night when you and I are nice and snug in bed..."
"Look, Ian, don't tell the other guys, OK? I'd rather they didn't know what I used to do..."
He laughed. "Steve, mate, don't worry! That Marco and Pavel, they're as randy as rabbits in the spring, and they can't get enough of it. Finch and the master and mistress all think I'm so fucking tired all the time because of the work, but it's having those two on at me all the time to fuck 'em that really does it - they just can't get enough cock, and both of them like to take it and it fair wears me out trying to keep up with them. It sounds as if you're just what I need, Steve - help with the work, and help with keeping those two randy buggars satisfied."
I thought he was joking, so just ignored him, and then with another wink he said "So come on, then, let's slip down the back passage and I'll show you the grounds...."
Three acres might not sound a lot if you're a farmer or something, but as ornamental gardens it's fucking huge! There were big beds of shrubs, the edges of the place were lined with mature trees and a tall wooden fence to ensure privacy, a rock garden, a big swimming pool with a separate pool house, and a huge vegetable plot - Ian said they were almost self sufficient in vegetables, except for the exotic stuff that wouldn't grow in England. There were pictures of the place taken in 1912 with a staff of eight gardeners, he said, so it was a lot for us two even with machinery to help. We also had a "potting shed", as Ian called it - a sort of shack thing, on the far boundary, where the mowers and all the garden tools were kept, and in the middle of it was one of those old-fashioned round metal stoves in which you could burn logs, with a place on top to boil a kettle. Ian proudly showed me a really old iron kettle, and a couple of battered tin mugs, and told me that in the winter I'd welcome this, as he scavenged the bins on the days they had to go out for the collection and got used tea bags so we could make a brew to help warm us up.
As he said that I realised it was quite cool - well, I'm not used to going around without a shirt on all the time - and in reaction to this my nips were erect and I got some goose pimples forming. I asked Ian why we got only jeans, and he just shrugged. "Finch says it's because the cold makes us work harder, as we want to keep warm. But if you ask me, the master and mistress just think it makes us look like servants, rather than free men. But there's no point in arguing or anything - I've tried - we just get jeans in winter, and nothing in summer, and that's the way it is ever since I've been here."
"I thought he was joking - you mean we go naked in summer?"
"No, idiot! We still get to wear our boots, as otherwise you couldn't dig, and the big rotary mower might slice your toes off...."
"But why?"
"Steve, mate, I told you, I don't know. It's been like that ever since hey bought me three years ago, and once you get used to it, it's not so bad.... It's pretty private here, after all, and the maids aren't allowed out into the gardens so they can only peep at you from the windows... And they know it's 'look, but don't touch' anyway, just as I told you."
"Three years here, Ian? Were you a gardener before?"
He laughed. "Fuck me, know! I'm an East End boy, born and brought up in Bermondsey. Newer so much saw a tree, let alone a fucking vegetable garden. They used to have a company in to do it on contract, and then they bought me and I worked alongside them, and after a year it was just me. They cut the gardening page out of the papers on Saturdays that says what's to be done every week, and I kind of follow that - it's pretty interesting, really..."
"What did you do before that?"
"Nothing! Lived off the social. And a bit of this, a bit of that, you know what I mean...."
"No.."
"Well, I got my girl friend in the club, then she and her mom and her brothers kind of told me that the wedding was the next Saturday, then once little Liam was born, they gave us a council flat near her mom. There wasn't any point in working , was there? Get a low paid job, and I lost most of the benefits - found myself paying all the rent and stuff, so I jacked it in. Then I just did a bit of this and a bit of that, all for cash - you know, buy something off a geezer in the street - something he's selling on, or nicked himself, then take it around the pubs and find someone who wants to buy it... And the odd bit of decorating for cash. That sort of thing. I'd still be there now - it weren't a bad life as I always had a bit of cash for a pint, I had a lot of good mates, and I loved little Liam to bits. Once she got her brothers to work me over good and proper when she heard I was having it away on the side with a woman whose flat I'd been papering, especially when little Michelle was born... She had her them throw me out, and it was tough on the streets, I can tell you, until she let me back - although she hated me going around to see Michelle's mom - those women don't realise what they're missing until they've been without a bloke for a few nights, do they?"
"So you were indentured for thieving and stuff?"
"No, don't be fucking stupid! No one was going to complain about that, were they, and anyway, the old bill doesn't waste time on small stuff. No, it was for what they called aggravated assault.... Well, I mean to say, it was their own fault, weren't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Me and me mates were at West Ham for a big match - always have supported them - then at Canning Town on the way back some fucking stupid Chelsea supporters hadn't had the egood sense to stay on the train and came down to the Jubilee platforms and started to sing that the Hammers were shite - so me and me mates had to convince them otherwise, didn't we? And they caught me on the video, and they said it was my boot that broke the stupid fucker's ribs... And the old bill did take notice about that, especially as the kid was some poncy bloke from out in Richmond and made a big fuss... So here I am, no wife, no Liam, no bit on the side, no Michelle - fucking indentured for life."
He saw me looking at him, and went on "Mind you, I suppose it ain't all bad - I get regular meals, it's healthy here, and I get regular sex, which is more than I used to get from that slag who married me. Still, I'd like to see little Liam and Michelle again, but I don't suppose I ever will. It's not like being in the nick, is it, where they can come and visit you?
I don't suppose they even know where I am as the sale records are sealed, and we're never let out from here..."
"Never?"
"No... I've been in these three acres ever since they bought me. Come here...."
Ian pulled me over towards the trees, and as we approached the fence, my collar started to tingle. "See.... There's some sort of wire running around the fence that activates our collars. When we have to prune these trees, they turn it off but then Finch cuffs my ankle to a big chain, and then stands there with that fucking prod thing anyway! There's no chance of getting away - I once tried to take a run at it and leap over, but it knocked me out."
He turned then, and said "But come on, we've been out here long enough. They feed us early, in case the maids are needed for a dinner party or something...."
As was to be the case all the time I was there, all us servants sat around the big table - Marco and Ian and me, and Pavel if he wasn't in the kitchen, on one side; and the maids at the other, with Finch at the head. The food was good, though - a rich meat stew, baked potatoes, runner beans - and enough of it, and then a big bowl of tapioca pudding with a dollop of jam in the middle of it! Ian nudged me and said "See, that Pavel isn't only just a good fuck, he knows what he's doing in the kitchen, too - everything's home-made here, even the jam. And I grew those potatoes, and the beans..."
I felt so full, as it was the best meal I'd had in a long time, and just wanted to sit there, but Finch snapped "Go and get properly cleaned up, Steve! Marco is just about to go and fetch the mistress from the station, and I expect she'll want to inspect you as soon as she's had a drink..."
I saw Ian smirking, and he grabbed me by the arm. "Come on, Steve, mate... I think I'd better show you the ropes..."
Look, I'm not embarrassed about being in a shower with other blokes around, as I was used to that from the army. But having Ian standing there in his jeans and boots watching me as I showered, well, that was kind of different. And he kept saying things like "Be sure you're really squeaky clean all over, as the mistress will have you punished otherwise ...", and "...and you'd better make sure your arsehole is clean, too - stick your finger up it with some soap... Or do you want me to do it..?"
"Fuck off, Ian!"
"I'm only trying to help - she'll probably want to feel your arse, and if her finger's covered in crap, she'll make you lick it clean..."
"There won't be any of that! When I'm with a woman I'm in charge, and she does as she's told. Fuck, I'm looking forward to this - I haven't had a proper fuck for weeks... I suppose that's why she had me vasectomised - so we can do it raw. None of that messing around with condoms - I like nice proper skin to skin contact..."
"Oh, you were done too, were you?"
"Yes. And they took my 'skin... Same for you?"
"Yes. Not that it matters - I haven't been with a bird since I was indentured. I think they just have you done so they can let you see they're in total control of you. Still, I've got Liam and Michelle.... Well, I had them...."
I towelled myself dry as Ian watched, and pulled my jeans back on, settling my cock nicely down the right leg as usual. Ian watched as I pulled my hand out, and added "Well you won't have those on for long anyway, if past form is anything to go by. I'm fucking glad, I can tell you.... "
"Oh come on, she can't be all that bad... Even if she's ugly, I can always shut my eyes..." But then a horrible thought struck me. "Oh, fuck.... Tell me she isn't some old bat in her seventies or eighties..."
Ian broke out in a laugh. "You'll be wishing she was, Steve! She might get tired sooner then. No, I think she's about our age. She'd be just the sort of bird I'd go for if she offered it, if I met her in a pub."
"Well then, that's OK - I reckon I can trust your judgement..."
"Yes, but wait until you see how she is. Bloody insatiable. You'll be worn out."
I slapped him on the back. "Look, Ian, you married men don't know the half of it. Us blokes who never got hitched, we know how to play the field. And I was a soldier - you're tough in the forces, you know."
We might have gone on like this, but Finch appeared. "Come on, Steve. The mistress is home, and she's had a gin and tonic, and she wants to see her purchase..."
I followed him out of the dingy servants' part of the house into the main area, and we went along what was evidently the corridor running between all the bedrooms. He stopped at a door and knocked gently, and I heard a faint "enter", and we went in. It was a huge room, with big bay windows overlooking the gardens. The white carpet was all soft under my feet (I hadn't put my boots on after my shower, as Ian had said that I'd be out of them soon enough anyway and it looked fucking stupid, hopping around on one foot and then the other as you tried to get them off).
I think I recognised the woman sitting there on the edge of the bed as being one of the people who'd been at the sale, but I wasn't sure. Most of them had been expensively dressed in "everyday" clothes, and that makes a big difference - this woman was sitting there, perfectly at ease, in just a big fluffy bathrobe.
"The new servant, ma'am.... Steve.", Finch said, solemnly.
"Thank you, Finch. That will be all."
Finch bowed and left the room, and I carried on standing there. The woman opened the robe slightly and showed me something hanging around her neck. "Do you know what this is?"
"No..."
She touched it, and a tingle ran through my collar. "This is the controller. And that was just two percent. Keep a civil tongue in your head, boy! And nonsense, any disobedience, and lack of respect, and I'll zap you. Understand?"
"Yes.."
This time I gave a tiny yelp as the pain was significant.
"Try that again, boy!"
I hated being called "boy", but what was I supposed to do? "Yes, ma'am..."
"That's better! Now, let me take a look at you. Lose the jeans."
I hesitated for a moment, as I'm not used to taking orders from women, and the tingling began at my collar. I saw an amused smile starting at the corners of her mouth, and decided she must be playful, so I undid the buttons, pushed the jeans to the ground and stepped out of them. As you do, I reached down and freed my cock from my balls as it was stuck there just a bit with sweat, and then, looking at the not unattractive woman sitting there so calm, I stroked myself gently so that I started to get an erection - after all, if the bitch wanted to play, I was the man for it!
I took a step towards her and she snapped "Stay right there, and put your hands behind your head."
I hesitated again, but saw her reach for the control thing, and did as I was told. She got up slowly off the bed and came towards me, and I remember thinking that this might be fun after all, to have a woman in lust actually in charge - it would certainly make a change!
She stood right next to me, and the scent of her perfume assailed my nose - fresh, and floral. Then, still holding the control device in her right hand, her left hand reached out and took my right nip, and started to roll it around between thumb and forefinger. I've got sensitive nips, and I let out a low moan, and then, as her pressure increased, I tried to take a step backwards.
"Easy boy!" Her tone was a harsh whisper. "Stay still, as I inspect you, if you don't want to get hurt!".
Her hand strayed off my nip, ruffled its way through the thatch on my chest, and slid down the ridges of my belly, and began teasing my pubes. Then, as I felt myself go rock hard, she took hold of my cock and began to stroke it. I'd never had such a forward woman before, and I moaned in passion, a moan that turned serious as her hand slipped around my sac, and began to massage my balls. Without thinking, I snaked my arms around her waist to pull her close, ready to kiss her, and then I screamed and leaped backwards, falling with a great bump to the floor.
I found myself sitting there on my arse, my legs apart, with her standing in-between them looking down at me. She kicked off her thin elegant slippers, and one foot reached out and pressed itself into my tackle. "I told you to keep your hands behind your head, boy! Are you always this wilful?"
"No... Ma'am... I just thought...."
"You're not here to think! You're here to obey." Her toes ground into my balls, and I winced slightly.
"Now, boy, we'll try again. And this time, if you misbehave, you'll get the full stun from your collar. And when you come to, you'll find yourself in the whipping frame - my husband's away, but Finch has been known to wield the whip almost as well. Is that clear?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She went and sat back on the bed, then told me to stand up. She opened her robe and at the sight of her body I knew I was erect again.
"That's good, Steve. I like to see a man who's excited by his mistress. Now, come here, kneel between my legs, and pleasure me."
I looked puzzled for a few moments, and she almost hissed at me "I think your tongue is probably on the same scale as the rest of you - and I like to be aroused. I want that long tongue of yours playing with me boy.... So get kneeling, put your hands behind your back - and keep them there - and get to work!"
Look, I've never been one for all this foreplay stuff - well, not for the woman, anyway: I don't mind her lips around my cock as a bit of a warm up. But frankly I never liked having to go down on a woman, so I never did it. But now I realised I had no choice - I looked as if I was hesitating, and her hand went to the control box, and I said quickly "No, please..."
"Get to work, boy! I'm waiting...."
The carpet now felt cloying and clinging as my knees and legs almost sank into it. I looked up at her and saw that smile starting, as she put her hand on my head, and said quietly "Come on, boy, get in....", and guided me down on to her.
As I licked and lapped with my tongue, I consoled myself with the thought that at least this was a preliminary, and my cock was rock hard as I looked forward to the fucking - once I'd got my cock in her, I'd show her who was the boss. But as her juices flowed and I worked away, she seemed to get more and more turned on and was rolling and moving sensuously under me. Whenever I tried to stop, to move on, she murmured "Keep working, boy...", and what other choice did I have?
Time seemed to stand still. The muscles in my back and my neck were starting to hurt from being bent over for so long, and my toes were uncomfortable from sticking into the carpet. My tongue was tired, and I was getting bored out of my mind. But still it went on, and on, and on.
Finally she gave a series of low moans, her belly jerked once or twice, and she sighed "OK, boy, that's enough for today...."
I pulled my head up, glad to ease my aching neck and back, and wondered when the real sex was going to start - should I risk moving, or would she give the commands? My cock was jerking in anticipation, as she sat up and looked down at me.
"That's acceptable for a first attempt, boy! I'll soon have you trained to pleasure me properly.... Now, get off to bed, as I've got work to do...."
"Ma'am...?" I could hardly believe that was it.
"You heard me, boy! You're here to please me, and you've done an acceptable job tonight, but we'll refine that a time goes on. Now, get out of her, and off to bed with you..."
I got to my feet, and as I did so she gave a little cry of horror. "You disgusting beast! There's stuff leaking from your penis..."
Well, it wasn't surprising, was it? Keeping a bloke waiting for sex, what did she expect? I touched the end of my dick and could feel a dribble of cock snot, and kind of shrugged. She looked down and gave a tiny scream of annoyance and rage. "You filthy animal! You've dropped your disgusting semen all over the carpet! It will be ruined...."
"Ma'am, it's not semen, it's pre-cum...."
"It's a disgusting male animal fluid and it's staining my carpet! Get down and clean it up!"
I looked at her in sheer fucking amazement. She couldn't be serious! But she was, as a zap from my collar made me realise. I went towards the bathroom, thinking to get a wash cloth or some lavatory paper or something, but she snapped "On your knees, boy! Use that tongue of yours.... And I want every trace of it up!".
This was the most utter humiliation I'd ever been subject to in my entire life - even standing nude, being offered for sale, wasn't as bad as this. Bits of fluff from the carpet got in my mouth as I licked at my patch of pre-cum, but what made it worse was that one of her feet rested on my back as I laboured away, then occasionally she'd move it to the top of my shoulder to push me backwards so she could peer down and look at progress. She made me work at it until quite a large areas had been covered in my spit, and my tongue was almost rasping it was so dry.
She told me to get up then, and added "And next time I summon you in here you'd better make sure those balls of yours are empty. If you ever make such a disgusting mess again you'll be whipped. Is that clear?"
I was bright red, from embarrassment and rage, but I knew I had to keep a grip on myself, and just muttered "Yes, ma'am."
"Good! So off to bed with you."
I went to pick up my jeans and pull them on, and she snapped "Don't waste time! Get out of here!", and I could feel here eyes burning into my back as I padded naked across the room.
The other blokes obviously knew what was going to happen to me, as when I entered our bedroom they were all laughing. "So, Steve, have a good fuck, did you? You really showed a woman what it was all about, I'll bet!". Ian was almost splitting himself with laughter as he said this, and Marco and Pavel were beside themselves.
I was pretty upset, and I think Ian saw it, as he came and put his arm around my shoulders. "Look, mate, it's not that bad... We've all been there, done that.... And that's all you ever do to her - just endless, endless foreplay with your tongue, time after time."
"It's not right, Ian.... A bloke is meant to take charge, to fuck...."
"Steve, she owns us! And with these fucking collars on, she's in charge, mate, whether you like it or not."
"But why me...?"
"Why not? She's had all the rest of us. And someone's got to do it, you know!"
I was still erect, and Ian gave me a gentle, friendly sort of slap on my cock. "Still, you're ready for a bit of fun, I can see.... So do you want Marco, or Pavel?"
When he saw me looking surprised, he went on "You remember what I told you - these two need a good fucking, every night! And that cock of yours looks as if it'll burst... And I should think so too, as you've been doing foreplay for two hours! A man needs proper sex after all that..."
Marco was already lying in his narrow bed, and he was smiling at me as I looked - he was really hairy, I could see now, with the sheets making a real contrast with the thick covering of black fur on h is chest. Pavel was standing next to me, though, still dressed, as he'd evidently just finished in the kitchens. He reached over and put his arm hand around my neck, looked in to my eyes, and muttered "No, Steve, come and fuck me.... Please....."
Look, I've told you that I only fuck guys "in the course of duty", so to speak, but something inside me now said "why not?". I grabbed Pavel's T and pushed it up, sliding m hand up over his belly and being surprised how smooth he was. He eagerly grabbed at the T and pulled it right off, and then half bent over to push down his chequered cook's trousers. I glance down, and was amazed to see he was completely hairless! Not a sign of anything on him, anywhere on his body, and his cock and balls looked more like a kid's just hanging there.
He saw me looking, and said quietly "They keep me totally hairless, Steve, because of the kitchen - they found a pubic hair in the soup once, and although I knew it was from one of the fucking maids, I got the blame. So now they keep me completely like this...."
I just shrugged, and pushed him gently back on to the bed. He had a nice body - not muscled, but lean and slim, with some power there as being a chef's quite hard work! I gently turned him over onto his belly, then got up onto the bed and straddled his thighs. I was so tensed up I just took him like that - I didn't open his legs, or haul his arse up into the air or anything like that - I just straddled him, and pushed my cock up his arse as he lay there flat. It's quite a good position for slim young lads, and it gives you a lot of satisfaction - but it hurts them a bit, as your cock is kind of at the wrong angle. Still, Pavel didn't put up too much of a struggle, and when is cries and moaning got too severe, it was easy to lean forward and push his head down into the pillow to shut him up.
Still, I did sleep well after that, and Ian was shaking me awake the next morning before I knew it. We pulled on our jeans and boots and went downstairs and into the grounds, and I shivered a it in the unexpected chill.
"First thing every morning - the pool", he told me. "It was my job, but it's yours now. Without fail, remember - they keep it heated all the year around, although they don't use it all that much."
"Great! I like swimming...."
"Tough, Steve! You're a servant, and you're not allowed to swim."
"But if they're not using it...."
Ian just shrugged. "What's that got to do with the price of fish? You're not allowed to swim, OK? If they see you, they'll punish you. Now...."
He showed me how to roll back the cover, and test the water, and add chemicals and stuff. And then he smiled. "And now, every morning, you have to clean it - all the leaves, insects, scum.... Strip off..."
"What?"
"You heard me. You've got to clean it out. So get naked, and get in there! You wanted to swim, didn't you? Well, at least you're going to get in the water! The professional company that used to come used big long-handled brooms and stuff, but we just use a hand brush for the scale, a small net for the floating debris, and you get in there and do it. And so unless you want wet jeans all day, strip off...."
Well, it's a bit odd, standing there on a cool morning with another bloke watching you as you strip and then get in the pool and start to clean it! And it was even odder when, a few minutes later, our mistress strolled up to watch - she was in a dark business suit, and was evidently about to leave for the station, and somehow the contrast between her impeccable outfit and m nudity made me feel a bit ashamed. I tried to keep at the deep end, so only my shoulders were showing, but I had to move to the shallow end and I could feel her eyes, and Ian's, watching me as gradually my arse, and my cock, came out of the water. She stood there silently watching me as I worked away, and then, when I got out and kind of 'planed' the water off my body, looked as if she was thinking about something.
I saw Ian looking thoughtful, too, but he tossed me a tiny scrap of towel, told me to dry myself as best I could and get dressed, as our breakfast would be ready.
Marco was back from the station by then, so all three of us sat there at the table and Pavel brought in our breakfast - big bowls of porridge, with which we were allowed as much dark brown sugar as we wanted, and then freshly-baked wholemeal rolls and home-made marmalade. As he served me, Pavel rubbed his arse suggestively, and whispered "tonight again, Steve?"
End Of Part Seven