Sex in the Sky

PART THREE: HUSBAND AND WIFE

As it turned out, things were just beginning to get interesting. One day about a week later I noticed that the house was getting hot and

uncomfortable. Something was wrong with the central air-conditioning unit. Not only was there no cooling, the blowers didn’t seem to be working well, so there was very little air circulation.

Fortunately, my house had ceiling fans installed in the largest rooms, and I’d put in screen doors. So I turned every fan on high speed, threw open the doors, and tried to get a breeze going. Soon the ground floor was bearable, though hardly cool. The upstairs, though, was impossibly hot—no way would I be able to sleep up there tonight.

It really wasn’t too bad, though. As night fell, I stripped down to my underwear (after carefully closing the blinds), made up the couch with sheets and pillows, turned off every light I could to make the house seem cooler, and settled down in the recliner with my laptop, a pitcher of ice water and a glass by my side. The soft whir of the ceiling fans mingled with, and didn’t quite obscure the sounds of the night outside–the soft chirruping of crickets, the occasional distant bark of some neighbor dog, the whoosh of a car passing down the street. I felt absurdly like a pioneer, roughing it in my temporarily un-air-conditioned home.

Around eleven o’clock I began to yawn, and found it hard to keep my eyes open. I made a mental note to call the central air maintenance guys in the morning and got ready to hit the sack. My stuff was all in the bathroom nearest the master bedroom, so I headed up the stairs, wincing a bit at how hot it still was on the second floor.

After washing up and cleaning my teeth I decided to fetch tomorrow’s clothes from my closet, so I headed into the master bedroom. I could see a dim light coming in through the side window. One of the upstairs lights in Marsh’s house was on.

I don’t know what exactly prompted me to move across the stifling, darkened bedroom, without turning on the light, to look out my window. I told myself afterward that it was just simple curiosity about what room in their house might be across from mine. But really I was hoping to see Marsh again–after all, isn’t that what I’d been doing for weeks, trying to catch glimpses of him?

I got to the window and looked out through the partly open slats of the venetian blind covering it. Directly across from me was a open second-story window, the white curtains framing it drawn aside. The room I was looking into was clearly a bedroom. In the dim light I could see the bed placed against the opposite wall directly facing the window. Marsh was stretched out on top of the comforter, dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts, reading a magazine.

At the first sight of him I quickly drew back. After a moment’s thought I realized this was an unbelievable stroke of luck. Since my bedroom was completely dark and theirs was lit, there was little chance I would be noticed, unless Marsh or his wife came to the window and looked straight out. I felt a thrill of excitement run through me that all voyeurs must feel. There was guilt, too–but not nearly enough to stop me from going back to the window, slowly raising the blind, then carefully, noiselessly lifting the sash.

After a moment, Marsh laid the magazine aside, yawned and stretched. His body was as beautiful as I thought it would be. The defined ridges of his pecs and abs were visible even from this distance. They rivaled those of any exercise magazine cover model. I became aware that my stiffening dick was pressing painfully against the front of my briefs, and pulled them down to free it from its confines. Not taking my eyes off the window for one instant, I began to stroke myself slowly.

I saw Marsh turn his head, smile and speak to someone else in the room. Audrey must be coming to bed. I felt an irrational jealousy that she had the privilege of being close to this man, sharing his room and his bed, while I was confined to spying on them in the dark. I watched raptly as she came into view, wearing a black shorty nightgown, sheer enough so that I could see matching black panties underneath–on her slim, but surprisingly full-breasted figure the skimpy garments looked good. Marsh smiled as she got on the bed and gathered her into his arms. I heard the murmur of their voices, too far away for any words to emerge, as they cuddled affectionately. Seeing them together reminded me acutely of my own current state of aloneness–I felt sad, jealous, and intensely horny, all at the same time. My hand moved faster on my cock, by now slippery with the juices of my arousal.

The happy couple in the other house began to kiss, at first gently, then with increasing urgency. My heart raced as I realized that Marsh and Audrey were starting to make love before my eyes. His hands cupped her breasts through the nightgown. She reached down and fumbled with his boxer shorts, drawing them downward. Frustratingly, he rolled on top of her at that moment and all I could see was his shapely butt, above the boxers now halfway down his legs. Her slim arms grasped his back, white against his tanned musculature.

Then, to my delight, Marsh turned over and stripped his shorts completely off. Even across the distance between our houses I could see the heavy length of his cock pointing stiffly upward on his lower belly, above his balls. He rose to his feet and stood sideways in front of the bed, his organ now jutting outward, silhouetted in the dim light of the bedroom. Audrey got down off the bed and knelt in front of him. I saw her head move toward his crotch, and a moment later Marsh’s cock disappeared into her mouth.

A strangled groan escaped from my throat. I would have killed to be in Audrey’s place at that moment–giving head to a man the likes of whom I’d rarely seen, and never possessed. I saw him caress her head gently with one big hand, and imagined him doing the same to me. I was dangerously close to shooting my load, and forced my hand to slow its frantic pace.

Audrey didn’t suck Marsh for very long. As she released his cock, Marsh unfastened something at her throat and the garment fell away from her, exposing her breasts. He sat his wife on the edge of the bed and drew down the panties she was still wearing, going to his knees as he did so. I caught a glimpse of the neat triangle of Audrey’s pubic mound just before Marsh’s head closed in on it. He was returning the favor his wife had done him. Audrey’s head snapped back, her blond hair spilling over her shoulders. Her eyes closed, her mouth opened, and though I couldn’t hear it I knew she was moaning with pleasure. One of Marsh’s hands reached up and caressed her breast again.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. Watching the man I desired performing the act of love, even with a woman, was an experience beyond compare. I wanted to savor every moment of it–I had taken my hand completely off my own cock, which stayed rock hard even so. I wanted to ride vicariously with Audrey and Marsh to the climax of their lovemaking.

They were now on the bed again, Audrey on her back with her legs spread. Marsh positioned himself over her, his back to the window, and lowered his body onto hers. Her arms went around him, her mouth opened in another gasp and I knew that his cock had penetrated her. Marsh’s butt began to contract rhythmically as he began to thrust, at first slowly, then with increasing speed and strength until I could see the bed shaking with the force of his fucking. Faint cries from both of them reached my ear. I began to stroke myself again, this time not trying to hold back. Soft grunts began to emerge from my own throat.

Just then, Audrey’s head, visible over one broad male shoulder, rolled from side to side, and I heard a single clear, almost musical cry of ecstasy. She clapped one hand abruptly over her mouth, her eyes bulging comically. It wouldn’t do to wake Jonah now! Marsh’s thrusts increased to a frantic pace, and I heard his voice shout wordlessly. I saw a warning finger come up to Audrey’s lips. They had obviously reached the ideal completion–a mind-blowing orgasm for her, timed to perfection with the planting of his seed inside her.

They didn’t know it, but it had been a triple play–a few seconds after Marsh came, my eyes closed involuntarily as an explosion rocked my own body. I groaned loud enough that I was afraid they would hear. I felt the hot jets spurting out of my cock and dimly wondered where they were going. Rocking onto my knees, I grasped the window sill with my free hand to keep from falling over, my head down, my breath coming in harsh gasps.

After I had regained some semblance of equilibrium I opened my eyes. Fortunately I hadn’t made enough noise to be heard across the way. Marsh and Audrey were now lying next to each other, still naked, their bodies still loosely entwined. After a while Marsh got up and moved toward the window, and I quickly retreated into the shadows. When I felt it was safe to look out again, a small fan was whirring in the window and the lights were off.

My legs and feet were tingling from crouching so long, my hand was sticky with cum, and there was a mess on the bedroom floor, and probably on the wall underneath the window as well. I rose stiffly, pulling up my briefs, and went to the bathroom to get a towel to clean up. I wiped everything up as best I could in the dim light from the hallway, still thinking it prudent not to turn on the light in the bedroom. When I was done I padded downstairs, locked up, stretched out on the couch, and at last, fell into an deep, dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER FOUR: FATHER AND SON

I awoke the next morning and didn’t know where I was. There was an unfamiliar light all around me, and an odd whirring noise. After a moment I realized I was lying on my living room couch. I had left the ceiling fans on to keep some air moving, but with the doors and windows closed the house nevertheless was stuffy.

Thoughts of last night came into my mind. The window through which I had witnessed Marsh making passionate love to his wife was the same one behind which Stan had stood one rainy morning before the house was finished, staring into my eyes as he jacked himself off. Boldly he had let me know that he was on to me–he had seen me eyeing his body while he labored on the construction crew. Then, the next day, he had knocked on my door and made what had been fantasy hot and sweet reality.

The odds that this present story would have a similar end were zero. Obviously Marsh and Audrey had a healthy relationship, to say the least. The house next door had provided me with one companion—it was too much to think it would give me two. With that depressing thought, I hauled myself off the couch to get ready for the day.

One afternoon later that week I walked into my favorite local coffee house. Inside there was a woman, with a little boy next to her, speaking to the cashier. She turned her head–I saw that it was Audrey and Jonah. As I approached she caught sight of me and her face brightened in recognition. “Hello,” she called. “We’re on our way home from preschool.” She looked down at her son. “Jonah, remember Mr. Rob? Say hello.”

“Hi,” Jonah said. He gave me a shy smile, and I felt unaccountably pleased.

We chatted idly for a few moments while we waited for our lattes to come up.

“You’re doing a good job with him,” I observed.

“Thanks,” Audrey replied, patting her son on the head. “Though it hasn’t been hard. Jonah’s never been any trouble–well, except when he came into the world.”

I was silent, not wanting to say that Marsh had already revealed that personal detail. Come to think of it, I knew quite a few personal details about Mr. and Mrs. Atkins. Though there was no way she could know what I had seen a few days before, I felt my face reddening.

“We still haven’t had you over for dinner,” she continued, not noticing my discomfort. “I’m afraid it may be a while. I’m going out of town tomorrow and I’m not exactly sure when I’ll be back.”

“Hope it’s nothing serious.”

“Actually, it is. My father’s been ill a long time, and he’s getting worse. He may not live much longer.”

“I’m very sorry.”

She nodded as she picked up her coffee. Unlike Marsh, Audrey seemed able to keep her private pain hidden. “Thanks. Anyway, if he does–pass away, I’ll have to stay and help take care of things. I’m going to have to leave Jonah with his dad. A hospital’s no place for a small child, and I don’t want him to miss that much school.”

“I’m sure your husband will take good care of him,” I said absently.

Audrey started talking about the arrangements that had been made for her son, how another mother from his school was going to look after him until Marsh got home from work, but I barely heard her. My mind insisted that my handsome neighbor was out of reach–but from the way my heart was beating, it obviously thought otherwise.

“Well, Rob, I may ask you to check up on that workaholic,” she laughed as she turned to go. “Come on, sport. Let’s go home and eat your cookie.”

As I was hand-watering some of the flowers in the back yard early that evening I heard my name called. I looked toward the fence and saw Marsh striding toward me.

“Hey, buddy. Audrey says she saw you today. You know she’s going away for a while?”

I nodded. “That’s tough luck. Anything I can do to help?”

“Truth is,” Marsh said, scratching his head in embarrassment, “I’m a little nervous about being alone with Jonah that long. I mean, I can dress him, feed him, get him off to preschool and put him to bed, but that leaves a lot of hours in the day. Audrey’s already grumbling about his eyes getting weak from too much TV.”

Marsh, the perfect father, was asking his single, childless, gay neighbor for advice about parenting. I stifled a laugh and tried to reassure him.

“You’ll be fine.”

“Jonah does like the water,” Marsh continued, thinking out loud. “Maybe I’ll take him to Deep Eddy this weekend. Not exactly my idea of fun, sitting in the middle of all those screaming kids, but the little guy’d have a blast.”

Deep Eddy was a park that had both a outdoor lap pool for adult swimmers, and a shallow wading pool for the kids. Marsh had told me during our kitchen conversation that one of the ways he worked out was by swimming laps. I knew he’d much rather be stroking his way up and down one of the lanes in the lap pool. The words came out of my mouth with hardly a thought.

“I could go too. You could do laps while I keep an eye on Jonah.”

Marsh’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’d really do that?”

“Sure I would.” Some devil in me had seen that the Atkins’ son might, just might be the way to get a little closer to the father. Even if nothing came of it, I still would have gotten to spend time with Marsh, who would, and this was not an insignificant detail, be in swim trunks a lot of the time.

“Well, I’ll have to ask Audrey. She’s very protective of Jonah–I didn’t mean it that way, Rob,” Marsh said, looking abashed as he realized the import of his words.

“It’s okay.” It’s not her son she should be worried about, I thought.

Marsh looked at me closely and there was something indefinable in his eyes. “I guess it’s true we haven’t known you very long. Funny, I keep forgetting that.” He turned to go, saying, “She’s leaving on Friday. Let’s plan on Saturday morning bright and early, before it gets too crowded.”

The next couple of days were agonizingly suspenseful, waiting to see if Audrey would actually leave–somehow I thought she might change her mind and stay–and hoping that the weather would be good that weekend. I needn’t have worried on the latter score. Each day loomed hot and sunny, and the television newscasts were talking about an incipient drought. On Friday evening, my cell phone rang while I was on my way home.

“You still on for tomorrow morning?” asked Marsh’s voice.

My heart leaped. “Sure,” I said, trying my best to sound casual.

“Okay then. Come by around eight-thirty. You sure you can get up that early?”

“For you I will,” I said, hastily adding, “And Jonah.”

Marsh laughed. “Good man. He’s really looking forward to this.”

The next morning the three of us piled into the Blazer, equipped with sunscreen, cooler, duffel bags, and Jonah’s water toys. Marsh carefully belted his son into the back seat, but trouble began brewing when he and I got in the front.

“Want to ride in front,” Jonah protested.

“Got to stay in back, buddy,” Marsh replied. “It’s only for a little while.”

Logic and reason had little meaning for poor Jonah, obviously missing Audrey. He repeated his request more insistently, his lower lip beginning to puff out, a warning sign. Before he could erupt into a full-blown wail, I decided to try my hand at smoothing things over.

“I’ll get in back with you, Jonah.”

As I climbed into the rear seat, Jonah glared at me suspiciously. I was not, after all, his mother. I thought of something. “Here,” I said, reaching into my front pocket. “Ever seen anything like this?”

It was a little gadget that I had received as a gift at some Christmas party, the kind of thing that everyone exclaims over for five minutes and then forgets about–a hand-held, battery operated fan with soft rubber blades, that you could turn on by twisting the little head on which it was mounted. This one had a gimmick, though. It sat in a carrying case, equipped with a little spray bottle that sat behind the blades. You could fill the bottle with water, turn the fan on, push the plunger, and spritz yourself with a cool mist as well as enjoy the breeze. When I’d received it, in a clear plastic and cardboard package emblazoned with the legend “REVOLUTIONARY MISTING HAND FAN,” I’d thought to myself that a kid would like this thing. Now I was about to give my theory a field test.

Jonah took the fan curiously, momentarily diverted, at least. I showed him how to turn the thing on and off and he very quickly got the hang of it. I pointed the fan toward him so that the breeze stirred his soft brown hair. I gave him an experimental spritz and he giggled with delight. I looked up to see Marsh grinning back at me.

“Thanks, Uncle,” he said, and started the car.

Fortunately the trip to the park was a short one. On the way Jonah discovered that the fan blades would stop instantly at the slightest touch, a built-in safety feature. This, together with spraying the back of his dad’s head, kept him happily occupied until we got to the parking lot, which despite our strategy was already half full. We found a spot and unloaded. Weighted down with our equipment and a small boy, Marsh and I made our way toward the pool.

The park was laid out to have as much natural land as possible. The two pools had concrete decks, but there was plenty of grassy lawn all around, shaded with trees. It took much longer than I would have imagined to get ourselves to a shaded, comfortable spot not too far from the water, spread a towel on the ground, unpack our stuff and settle down. But at last, the three of us were ready to have fun.

“Daddy, can we go swimming?” Jonah said plaintively. He was still holding the toy I had given him.

“Yes we can, if you’ll put the fan down and let me take off your clothes,” his father answered. Catching me completely by surprise, Marsh stood and slipped his T-shirt off over his head, then unfastened his shorts and let them drop to the ground. I was slightly disappointed at the fashionably baggy, patterned boxer-style trunks that appeared underneath, but Marsh dressed only in swimsuit and flip-flops was nevertheless a breathtaking sight up close. I felt downright intimidated following suit, but nevertheless peeled down to my own conservative Speedos. I looked up to find Marsh’s eyes on me.

“You white man,” he said.

But I had to add my own spunk to those pools so I took my hand away, all sticky-slippery with his, and started to massage my own sensitive tip quite quickly. Well I was hugely turned-on, but just before the final ascent to orgasm there was a noise outside and Graham said “Are you coming to get the bread then?” There was just a hint of emphasis on the word “coming” though I don’t think he was able to see into the tent. I certainly was “cumming” so I grunted to him that I would “come soon” and “came” almost immediately all over Trev’s hairless chest. He watched my ejaculation keenly then smiled and said laconically “Great! Make sure you don’t get any of that on the bread.”

On the way to the village boulangerie I didn’t tell Graham I had just had a terrific orgasm but I did ask him about Des. He paused for a moment before replying, then looked round at me and said simply “He’s awesome.” I knew what he meant!

Well, the sun shone again on Tuesday and that night was just as good as the first with Trevor (we had just one orgasm each.) In fact everyone seemed happy, even though it had been agreed to adjust the pairings for Wednesday and Thursday. I was to sleep with Des, while Trevor and Graham were to be together for the first time.

We were in holiday mood, the sun continued to shine, and the food, wine and sex were superb. What more could you want! Well, Des was absolutely fantastic. He’s very laid- back about his size but he’s completely reliable. Once he gets to that “third phase” of his, nothing is going to stop him and what a load he shoots! On the Wednesday night I did something I’d never done before – I asked him if I could put his enormous cock in my mouth. This was before he’d got to phase 1 and he said he had no objection (if I didn’t) so long as he didn’t actually spunk in my mouth. As my lips closed round that fabulous cut dickhead of his he gasped with pleasure – and continued to do so as I massaged his glans with my lips and my tongue while gently stroking his long thick shaft with my hand. He reached phase 1 fairly quickly, taking his rod abruptly from my mouth. I liked the taste of his pre-cum and I loved the “hard softness” of that hugely engorged head in my mouth. I was urgent to hold it like that again, using both mouth and hand and he let me, withdrawing again as he felt the approach of orgasm in his balls. On the third wave, however, he groaned “I’m close … I’m going to cum” and I took my mouth off his cockhead and stroked him fast. Because we were in the dark I didn’t see or feel him cum, but I kept stroking – and he kept pumping out his juice. When we had had sex before it was usually me who came off first, so I felt really good that this time it was him. He lay there for a few minutes, exhausted, before turning to me and asking me if he could do me in the same way. Well, of course! I let him know when I was about to shoot so that I didn’t cum in his mouth and it was one of the best and most intense orgasms I ever had in my life. Sleeping next to him all night, spent but content, was wonderful and Graham had more or less to drag me out of the bed in the morning to go and get the bread. He had had a good night (his first with Trevor) and was happy too.

On Thursday night we repeated what we had done the night before, but I shot my load first and we took longer over it. We used a towel to mop up with, otherwise the bedding would have been awash with sperm! Friday was another sunny day. After we had bathed we drove further along the coast than we had been before and found a restaurant for our evening meal where six or seven courses, washed down with several bottles of wine, took almost four hours, so we got back later than intended and decided to sleep as we were rather than change partners. In fact, what with the meal, the alcohol and the week’s night- time “activities” I was pretty tired and Des and I went to sleep without even a hard-on. I rather think Graham and Trevor did the same.

I woke early on the Saturday morning because there was an unusual noise and it took me a minute or two to realise that it was rain drops pattering on the tent! We had got so used to the fine weather that we had forgotten it could rain. I looked out of the tent and saw only low cloud and driving rain. Over coffee and croissants in the large tent we discussed our options and decided to go to visit the Nazi U-boat submarine pens at St Nazaire. The visit was a success but when we got back to the camp there were still two hours before we could go for our evening meal and it was raining. We had brought a couple of bottles of wine with us and after we had opened the first I suggested we play a game of cards. Trevor looked doubtful about this, saying that he never played cards, but Graham said we could soon teach him. I then thought of a game which involved only one card, where the players each have three “lives” (and one extra for the first player to be out) and the winner wins all the “lives” at the end of the game. For this reason the game is usually played with sweets as “lives” and the winner, if he is kind, gives the lives out for the other players to eat. We therefore hunted for sweets and found just enough toffees to play one game. We had two trial rounds for everyone to get the hang of the game, which involves either passing your card to the player on your left if you think it is low or saying “Stick” if you think it will not be the lowest card when they are all turned up at the end of the round. If you pass your card to the player on your left he must give you his card. The dealer is the last to be passed to and has the option of turning up a card from the pack. Aces are low so if, for instance, you pass a “three” to the player on your left and he gives you an Ace, he can “stick”, knowing full well that he won’t have the lowest card at the end of the round. It’s very satisfying to do this and the player with the lowest card loses a life. When you lose three lives you are “out” and take no further part in the game unless you are the first out in which case you get the extra life. It’s amazing how often the player who gets the extra life wins the game.

Trevor soon learned this amusing game and what with the wine and the closeness of our four bodies kneeling in a circle in the big tent, we were soon laughing and joking. Trev, with beginner’s luck, won the first game and gave Des, Graham and me two toffees each, which left him with seven. Carelessly we ate them so he gave us another, leaving nowhere near enough for another game. We opened the other bottle of wine and I suggested we could play again if we each forfeited an article of clothing every time we lost a life. Looking round the tent I reckoned each of us had five articles of clothing on – shorts, underpants, t-shirt and two socks. Whoever got the extra life (and if he lost it) would be reduced to his underpants ….

There was great enthusiasm to play again and as the wine flowed and our mirth and enjoyment mounted, so our clothes were consigned bit by bit to the back of the tent. Des got the extra “life” and promptly lost it. He took off his shorts without hesitation and sat down to watch how the game would end. All eyes swivelled to that magnificent package and he responded by saying “Take a good look, fellas, it’ll be your turn next!”

And so it was. Trevor won that game too, discarding only his socks, and it was quickly agreed to play another with just the clothes we had got left on. This meant Des would be naked as soon as he lost his first “life” but in fact it was Trevor (his luck deserting him) and then me who lost all our clothes first, leaving Graham and Des with just their underpants on for the final round. Des lost and without embarrassment stepped out of his pants and there for us all to see was that fabulous equipment of his.

I couldn’t resist. “How about a circle jerk, fellas?” I said.

We were all a little high on the wine and the excitement of stripping. We had to explain to Trev what a circle jerk was and the rest of us had only read about it. I found the towel that Des and I had used and spread it in the middle where we had been playing cards. We all knelt round but it took a moment or two for us all to become hard so I considered what the penalty should be for the last person to cum. “The last person to cum gets to write this holiday up for others to read” I said. Graham looked doubtful but then realized that he usually came quicker than anyone else, so probably wouldn’t have to do any writing. He immediately started stroking himself. Trevor didn’t want to have to write either, so he started beating his meat, and Des and I joined in as soon as they had really got going. Looking round the circle I was amazed to see the different techniques employed. I thought of that “scientific article” and if I could have timed it, I would!

Des was still in phase 1 and I was gently massaging my glans to keep pace with him, whereas Graham was really going for it and so was Trevor. I reckoned that normally Graham would cum first, followed by me and I was not sure who would win between Trevor and Des. So I dawdled a bit and watched.

Graham was the first to show. His hand was flying and he lifted his head and said “I’m close …. Ooh, I’m close ….Ooh I’m CUMMING” and he shot a wad onto the towel. Our eyes then shifted to Trevor who was working hard and swaying at the knees. He said nothing but suddenly that long thin dick of his, pointing straight out over the towel, erupted and his first jet landed on the other side of the towel from him. He nearly fell on his face on the towel with the force of his ejaculation. Everyone cheered and I saw that fleeting expression on his face, half ashamed, half triumphant which I had seen before. I looked at Des. He was through phase 1 and working up to the end of phase 2. I knew I could cum any time if I increased my pace, and when he got to phase 3, with Graham and Trevor’s eyes glued on his tool, I looked at him and nodded slightly. He understood : we would cum off, if possible, together.

Timing your orgasm with another is a difficult feat, but somehow we managed it. I’m not sure that Graham and Trev saw mine because Des’s was so spectacular. The first jet shot into the air and went a full semi-circle before landing at the extreme edge of the towel. No-one cheered (I couldn’t because I was coaxing every last sensation and drop out of my own dick) because it was such an awesome performance. That first jet was followed by several more, all leaving the tip of his dick with extraordinary dynamic force. Des was just “big” every which way!

Anyway, once it was over, it was time to clean up, wash the towel and go out for our meal. It had stopped raining so we hung the towel on our improvised line while we went to the local restaurant. It was our last full day in France and we had certainly made the most of it. During the meal we agreed that as Des had cum fractionally before me, I should write up our story and that’s what I’ve done.

I don’t think there was any further “activity” when we rolled into our sleeping bags on our return to the tents. The towel remained unused and the next day we had to pack up and catch the afternoon ferry to Plymouth. The sun came out again and we had time for a last bathe before our departure. Our swimming trunks held no secrets now!

When we got back to the UK Graham drove Trevor and Des to their parents’ homes and we all shook hands, promising to meet again next year. Then he drove me back to our home town and deposited me at my mother’s. Before we got there he stopped the car, gave me a hug and said “We’ve had a great time, Urlen. Thanks!”

I was quite moved – because we had!