Beware the Roasburies! Pt. 01

"She is."

"Is it going anywhere?"

"I think so, I think she's the one. She's not sure yet."

"She will be," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "I can see that. Just a matter of time."

"I hope so."

That was it. He was always economical with words, but usually right. She said on the way back to my place that my mother gave her the third degree, but very gently.

"What did you tell her?" I asked ingenuously.

"Not telling you," she said with a mischievous smile, "You might get the right idea and get big headed."

I shrugged and left the matter alone.

Another weekend Penny begged me to take her to see her older brother Derek, married to Ingrid who was originally Scandinavian. They had two young boys, Steven nine and Leo seven.

Unlike my experience with Penny's parents, Derek and ingrid made me feel very welcome and Derek and I hit it off well. He was keen to understand the legal work I did. He was a lecturer in Mathematics at the university. It was a cold sunny weekend, so we wrapped up and played football with the lads in the garden. Ingrid had a smile that drew you in and made you a firm friend. Each time she saw me she smiled that smile.

It was an enjoyable weekend apart from the sleeping arrangements. They lived in a small house with three bedrooms. Penny got the small bedroom and I got the sofa in the living room. It was not quite long enough and was lumpy in all the wrong places. The boys arrived to play at seven, so my sleep was curtailed, while the other adults slept on.

I went to Penny's room, and woke her, which did not please her at all, but I pointed out the problems and she gave me a little room in the single bed. The organisation of the bedrooms showed I was not expected to share a bed with Penny, so we had to be alert to any sound of movement from Derek and ingrid's room, so I could be dressed and out of her bed (not necessarily in that order) before we were interrupted.

There was discussion about Penny's and Derek's parents concerning Connie, Penny's younger sister whom she had not mentioned before. Whereas Penny was studious and had ambition, her younger sister was a wild child, and lasted a year at Keele University before dropping out after failing her first year exams. She had been told by her mother that she was not welcome until she returned to university.

The next day she disappeared, and though Derek suspected she was in London, no one had heard from her since. It distressed Derek, who had made some efforts to find her without success. It distressed Penny as well, indeed for the rest of the visit and the journey home she was quiet and thoughtful.

"She and Mother always rubbed each other up the wrong way," Derek had said with resignation. "They fought like cat and dog all through her high school years."

We talked about the antipathy of Penny's mother to me, but couldn't find a credible reason. Derek said he thought she'd have been glad Penny was going out with a lawyer; he would talk to her, but nothing more was heard.

I asked her about Connie on the way home, hoping that talking about her would make Penny feel better.

"It hurts," she said. "We didn't get on all that well, but I do love her. I worry about her."

Silence followed for there was really nothing more I could say. Once in her room in Liverpool she had cheered up and I stayed over, leaving early the next day for work.

With December came the anniversary of our meeting for the first time: 13th December, which that year fell on Saturday. It gave me the great idea to give Penny a treat since her term ended on the twelfth. On reflection I should have checked with her first, but I wanted to surprise her.

So I booked a mid-range hotel in London, two first class rail tickets, and a show. When she phoned on the Wednesday before, I decided to break the news.

"Keep the weekend free," I told her. "I've got a surprise for you."

"Sorry darling," she said blithely, "I'm booked up this weekend, so can you pick me up and bring me to yours on Sunday?"

I was stunned into silence.

"Darling?" she said with some surprise.

I was now annoyed. "What's so important this weekend of all weekends? It's the first anniversary of when we met. I've planned a special surprise for you."

"Well," she said, without a trace of regret, "Friday there's a party for the postgrads, and Saturday the Vicar is hosting a little party for the ringers - a thank you for the year's service. So your surprise will have to wait I'm afraid. So I'll see you on Sunday."

"The surprise can't wait - it's booked in advance. Anyway, you said nothing about these parties last weekend," I muttered. "Didn't notice an invitation to go with you to either of them. You've been coming to me every weekend, you could have said at least."

"Didn't think about it. You booked?"

"Didn't think about the anniversary either?"

"Well, I knew-"

"But it clearly wasn't so important that you could miss your precious parties. OK, I know where I stand in your priorities. Sorry, I can't make it on Sunday, I'll still be away enjoying your surprise with someone else. I can get there Monday evening."

"Away?" she sounded interested, but I was annoyed.

"Yes, a weekend away. Never mind, I won't waste it. See you Monday night. Good bye."

"Good bye, love," she said after a pause. She could have changed her mind but didn't.

I put the phone down, and then I phoned Kitty, whose term had already ended (that's Oxbridge for you), and invited her. She was ecstatic.

"But shouldn't you be taking Penny?" she asked, suddenly all concern.

"She's busy," I said tersely. "Can't make it."

She stared at me, understood there was a big problem there and diplomatically said "OK!"

Then she prattled on for a while, and we made our arrangements.

I was out ringing on Thursday, and the ringers went for a pint or two after practice. I joined them, getting home after midnight, since I had the day off on Friday.

Kitty and I had a whale of a time; she was so lively and appreciative. We had the hotel change the booking to a twin bed room, and since nudity was never an issue in the family, we were comfortable with each other, but did not flaunt ourselves either.

I arrived back at the flat late on Sunday night, and needed to get into work early next morning to remedy my absence the previous Friday. I went straight from work to Liverpool, and rang her bell.

She opened the door looking a mixture of upset and angry, and launched into an irate diatribe.

"You took someone else on a weekend away, did you? You think you can just pick up some girl and I'll be happy with that? Well, you'll be pleased to know that I picked up a guy at the postgrad party. Very nice he was too. So how d'you feel about that?"

I stared at her. She had not invited me in, standing on the step, arms folded.

"OK," I said. "Get him to take you home," and I turned to walk away.

"Graham!" she shouted after me. "Don't be so childish! Come back here!"

I stopped, and turned. "You 'picked up' another man. I thought we were exclusive, clearly it only works one way."

"You took 'another woman' away all weekend, some exclusive! I phoned but you were always out."

"I took Kitty. OK?" I must confess to sneering. Her face registered surprise and then horror.

"B-but..." She stopped, then looked distressed. "I didn't mean it about picking a man up. I just talked with him. We didn't do anything."

"I'm supposed to believe that?"

"Yes! Dammit!" she exploded. "I have never lied to you. I said it to get back at you. I thought you had cheated."

"Get your stuff, I'll wait in the car." I turned and walked away.

She made two trips to load the car and I lifted not a finger to help her. She got in the car and I drove away. The first ten minutes were passed in heavy silence. Then she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Graham, love," she said penitently, "I did forget our anniversary. I'm very sorry. I'm sorry I didn't cancel my plans for you, I should have. Forgive me?"

"You're forgiven. Forget it."

"So," she ventured, "What did you do at the weekend?"

"First class rail to London, good hotel, meal at a high class restaurant, a show. Kitty loved it."

Silence. Then "You planned all that for me? Why didn't you say?"

"Penny, you spent every weekend with me this term. It never crossed my mind that you'd plan something else. I wanted to surprise you. You had every chance to pass up the parties - who'd have missed you?"

She sniffed, "You're right. The parties weren't up to much either. My own fault, I should have known you'd treat me to something really nice. I won't put you off again, that I promise."

She came to the flat, we ate a takeaway, and went to bed. She came to my arms and we made slow and once more limited love. She apologised again, and I told her to forget it. Then we slept. So ended her first term.

--

Chapter Four

After our spat over the anniversary, I sensed there was something of a change in our relationship. It was impossible to pin down, but things were not quite the same. I couldn't work out whether things between us were better or worse.

Penny stayed at the flat until the weekend, going shopping in Manchester for Christmas presents, while I toiled at work. We went to my parents' house on the Monday before Christmas so that Penny could leave her presents and spend some time with my family. Kitty ragged Penny dreadfully about the weekend away, and Penny put up with it stoicly.

On Tuesday evening after work, I took her back to her parents' place. Her father was working late - something he did regularly apparently, and so I was subjected to her mother's distain without any amelioration.

Again the dragon offered no refreshment, but Penny ignored her rudeness and made me a sandwich and some tea and, I think, to irritate her mother, hung on my arm and cuddled up to me. Mother took one look and disappeared. I left with a scorching kiss from my girl, and a distinct absence from her mother.

Christmas fell on a Thursday, and in England Christmas Day and the day after (known as Boxing Day) are public (known as Bank) holidays, and that year were followed immediately by a weekend (known as a 'weekend').

It was on Saturday morning early that I was awoken by the phone.

"Graham," Penny begged, "Please can you come and pick me up from home? I can't stand any more of mother's nagging and her lies. She's ruined my Christmas."

I had nothing else to do, and the trains would be scarce if they ran at all.

"OK," I said. "I need to get dressed and then it's about an hour."

"Thank you, you've no idea."

"You can tell me all about it on the way back, see you soon."

Thankfully it was a sunny morning. When I arrived she was waiting outside the gate with her bag. She piled in and we were off. She vented her frustration half the time on the journey.

The essence was that her mother constantly denigrated me, said I was a philanderer and fortune hunter(!), badgered her to find a 'more suitable' boyfriend, hinted that she would be 'cut off' if she married me. She said that the tirade continued all Christmas Day, to the extent that Derek told his mother to stop it or he and his family would be going home. The atmosphere was tense all the next day.

Penny said Ingrid was good to her, telling her that Derek got the same treatment when marriage was in the air for them. Mother did not want 'foreigners' in the family! The two women spent most of the time in Penny's bedroom.

There was no mention of her father, so I assumed he kept well out of it. After all, he had to live with her when everyone went home. It reminded me that he spent a disproportionate amount of time at work, and I wondered afresh about their marriage.

"You know I only have tomorrow off," I said as we carried her bags up to my flat.

That's OK," she said cheerfully (her relief at leaving home was palpable), "I can look up some friends and I can be your housekeeper. I can cook, you know."

We spent the rest of the day at my parents' with my siblings, with whom she had made firm friends.

When we returned to the flat, she expressed her gratitude for her escape by stripping naked, kneeling before me, unfastening my trousers, unzipping, pulling my pants and underwear down, pushing me down on the sofa, and heavens above, taking me in her mouth!

I was shocked.

"Penny, you don't have to," I said, desperately hoping she would brush aside my concern, which she did. Whey hey!

"Yes, I do," she said. "I talked with Ingrid, and she said it's not too bad."

She bent to her task once more, and I couldn't help feeling Ingrid had been giving instruction in technique, for she was giving a classy blow, no teeth. After a while I felt the gathering, and warned her.

"Penny, I'm close."

She did not carry on, and I did not come in her mouth. She pulled off and brought me off by hand, allowing my spend to splash all over her breasts. It was intense, and when I stopped twitching, she let go of my cock and scooped up some of my semen onto her fingers.

"Ingrid told me to taste it," she explained, and popped the fingers in her mouth. She looked puzzled, scooped some more and tried again.

"It's quite bitter, salty," she opined, "catches at the back of my throat, but doesn't taste of all that much. A bit slimy perhaps, like raw egg."

Then she laughed and looked mischievous.

"Are you going to kiss me?" she asked with a knowing smile, and scooping up the last remaining globs of the stuff, stuffing it in her mouth. It was a challenge. She sucked her fingers, swallowed and lifted her face for a kiss. I kissed her and tasted the bitterness on her tongue. I had tasted my own come long since (don't ask!). I wouldn't say it was pleasant but not unpleasant either.

She looked surprised. "Ingrid said you would refuse. Men do," she said by way of explanation.

"I'd never refuse to kiss you, my darling. Not my favourite flavour, but edible," I said smugly. "Not my first time either."

She looked a little confused at that, but the expression on her face soon changed when I pulled her up, placed her by my side sliding off immediately to pull her to the edge of the cushion. I spread her and began to return her favour. It did not take long before she was groaning and moaning and pushing her mound into my face. I intensified my tongue work and she came in quick time.

"Oh, yes!" were the only understandable words, though the other guttural and squeaky sounds she emitted expressed her pleasure eloquently enough for me.

We filled two glasses with milk and retired to bed. She made a comment about the colour of milk and semen. She thought milk tasted better but wondered about the relative protein content. I couldn't enlighten her on that one.

Next day we joined the family on a Sunday hike in the hills. It was cloudy and cold but we were well wrapped up, followed by a hot dinner at my parents'. Then home for some gentle oral loving - she swallowed; I kissed her after. She grinned.

My work days were short that week since New Year was on the Thursday, and though it would be some years before it was made an official Bank Holiday, for our practice it was another holiday, and the practice gave us the Friday as well. No one wanted industrial legal advice then anyway! Penny stayed in bed each morning, but cooked the evening meal for all three days.

"We are invited to a New Year's Eve party," she told me over dinner on Tuesday, "You remember Annette? Did Russian, shacked up with Solly? It's at their place."

Wednesday 31 December 1969

It sounded fun, and Wednesday evening found us pushing at an open door into a fairly large Edwardian house. It seemed that the couple shared the house with four other people. I got into a discussion about the future of computing with a bloke called Bill (not Gates, at fourteen he was too young to come to the party, and anyway he lived too far away), and when I left Bill, I could not find Penny.

Eventually, after ranging over the house, I saw her sitting on a sofa in the smaller of the back rooms, deep in conversation with a very good looking guy. The room was quite dark and she didn't see me. However I could hear her and it seemed the guy was French and she was talking with him in that language.

The thing that intrigued me was that he was clearly trying to get off with her. The words I did not understand, but the tone and inflection, coupled with Penny's flirty laughter, made it obvious. I wondered where this flirtation might lead, and stood back in the dark hall out of their line of vision and watched.

He would touch her arm, her shoulder, push her hair over her ear as he talked. I'd seen lads at school and university seduce girls and he was following the script. It was when he put his hand on her knee that she stiffened and took it off. He apologised, but kept up the touching. The second time he put a hand on her thigh, and she stood up and said something the tone of which left nothing to the imagination. At that I came round the corner.

"Ah, there you are Darling!" I gushed. He bristled, she smiled.

"And oo ees thees?" he asked her, as if I were an intruder on his turf.

"Let me introduce you, Michel this is Graham, my boyfriend. Graham, Michel has been telling me all about his chateau in the Dordogne."

We shook hands. He made it a contest. As he squeezed my hand hard, I brought my other hand up and applied a finger to a pressure point on his wrist and he let go, grabbing his wrist and wincing.

"Don't try that again, pal," I said nonchalantly, "or I'll break your wrist."

Penny looked confused at the confrontation, and Michel wandered off, muttering something Gallic, an insult I was sure.

We saw in the new year, kissed each other and an undefined number of other folk of the opposite sex. I saw Michel heading for Penny, and was about to intervene, but she turned him down much to his confusion.

On the way home to my flat, she told me all about his pitch to seduce her, and how infantile she found it. I told her of his attempt to crush my hand in the hand shake, and the technique my father taught me to counter it. It seemed to bring us closer.

That weekend we played at being married, though without the full on sex - that went without saying. There was plenty of hand and oral though. She asked to be taken back to Liverpool on Monday, since I had taken an extra day's holiday. We went to the Church and found there was a practice.

Monday 5th January 1970

Penny was welcomed warmly, and I stood behind her. She re-introduced me to each member, most of whom worked in Liverpool and were older than we were, though one about our age was introduced, who lived in the area and was also at the College of Education that Penny attended, so he was more memorable: Martin Greaves. He was a good looking confident lad, I thought, and he knew it.

There were no absolute novices, and so the call was for 'rounds and call changes' and Penny stood up and was given number three of the six. I was impressed at her bell handling; she kept perfect time and made her changes crisply on call. Yes, I was impressed.

Next Jeff, the ringing master, asked me what I rang.

"Anything up to London Major," I replied.

He smiled, "We could do a touch of Kent Minor how's that?" (Major means on eight bells, Minor on six; that tower only had six bells).

We rang a touch of Kent Minor, and it went well. Martin sat out with two other ringers and next to Penny. Then we did some Plain Bob, which Martin rang, and then more call changes. A good evening.

"See you tomorrow, Penny," shouted Martin as we left for her room. She waved.

"Nice lad," I said.

"Yeah," she said. No more.

"On your course?"

"No, I'm doing Primary, he's Secondary Science. After we met at the church, he tends to have lunch with me."