Private Compartment Ch. 08

The minutes and penes slipped very pleasantly away.

"Careful boys, you can't both get in there at once!"

A bit of mistiming. Paul had slowed on his stroke, feeling himself on the edge and Bill had pushed forward.

"Oh, I don't know," replied Bill.

And he was trying! Paul could feel, despite him being in residence, Bill's knob pushing against his shaft trying to slip in beside it. The idea just so erotic to him, the idea of such an intimate sharing of Ann. It set him off.

"Bill, I'm, I'm coming. Can I stay in and..." He did not wait for an answer but just pushed away, grabbing Ann's hips and making slapping noises as his flesh made contact with Ann's bottom again and again. Up inside the woman Paul's penis was firing, emptying his semen into Ann's body - spurt after spurt.

And all the time he could feel Bill's knob right up against his sliding shaft, trying to get in.

"Paul, Paul, pull out - let me in!"

The reason for the urgency obvious. Still ejaculating, he pulled back and felt Bill's knob slide past his own and up and into Ann's vagina; felt Bill's urgent thrusting against his own still leaking and pushing knob.

It had been a seamless transition. Not simply a team fucking but a team insemination of Ann. The ejaculation within her had been continuous. Bill's sighs had shown that. Paul knew he had been still ejaculating as he withdrew and was sure Bill had spurted the moment he passed Paul's penis on the way in. A heavy barrage indeed from their two cannons!

"Boys!"

Nice to step back and look at his friends still entwined. Still seemingly connected in the way of man and wife. Amazing to have done what they had just done in a railway compartment once again - and after all those years. Lovely to be there in the compartment - their very private compartment - naked with his friends. Paul looked down. There was his penis, drooping now but so wet with Ann's lubrication and his own spending. It was a moment to treasure. It was unlikely to happen again.

The end of the line came and Paul followed Ann and Bill out of the station handing his ticket to the man dressed, rather anachronistically, with cars whizzing past outside, in Victorian railway costume. Paul nodded to the man and smiled remembering handing in his ticket, evening after Wednesday evening, all those years ago having, often enough, just enjoyed sexual activity with Ann on the train. It was just like that now thirty years on. He felt pleasantly relaxed and, just like another time, all those years ago, he had her knickers still in his pocket!

It was the day after the events on the train. Ann and Bill had returned to their home. The house seemed very empty and quiet without them. Paul wandered listlessly around the house, standing for quite a time in the doorway of their bedroom now devoid of suitcase and their things, just thinking. The evening sun was warm as he strolled around his garden. He took a dip in his pool - naked, which had not been his habit - but it was not at all the same without Ann, and Bill of course.

Paul was going to make sure he did not lose touch with his friends this time. And he did not. They had invited him to stay and he went on the visit and met their children. He was very pleased with what he found. Really nice people, though they were hardly children now. And yes, there was sex. None of the children lived with them any more - after all, two of them were married and this was the 1980s after all! Of course Paul waited to be asked and he was most certainly invited into Ann and Bill's bedroom and not simply to sleep.

Other times they visited him. The advancing Autumn and Winter put paid to naked frolics by the pool. It was not the weather to be outside naked. Yet there was one absurd February day with the snow newly fallen and still falling when the three of them had run naked around the lawn holding hands and laughing like children when Ann had started a snowball fight. Paul knew he felt younger when his friends were around.

It was, unsurprisingly, only a short foray outside. It was very cold! With frozen fingers and toes and snow in their hair - pubic hair - they had rushed inside and squashed into the shower. The delight at getting warm again in the hot water had, rather inevitably, turned from the childish amusement of a snowball fight to adult amusements. Ann's soapy hand had slid up their erections, even bringing them together and soaping them as one. They had tumbled from the close embrace of the shower via vigorous towelling to extended naked sex in the warm lounge whilst watching the falling snow outside. As always for Paul such a delight to share Ann, to be permitted to push his erection into Ann's vagina and take turn and turn about with Bill.

"After you."

"No, after you!" Such absurd formal politeness when standing in his lounge with his friend in front of him as naked and as erect as, well, they had been in railway compartments.

Epilogue

It was about May time with the blossom on the trees and all in the hedgerows that Paul had received a telephone call from his friends. A call with good news, very good news, an excited call - their daughter was pregnant with her first child.

Ann and Bill were just so delighted, so excited about becoming grandparents. A stage in life moving from the role of parents to a more detached relationship with new young children. Ann so excited about the prospect of a baby, her daughter's to boot. Bill commenting the wonderful thing about it all being "You can hand them back at the end of the day!"

Paul was sure, on his already arranged visit the next week to see Bill and Ann, he would be hearing a lot more about babies, a lot more about the prospect of a future little one in the family, even perhaps more than one. Ann had, after all, said that twins ran in her family - not that she was a twin. In truth, Paul was not really interested in babies but he would be happy for Ann to talk.

Paul was certainly right. On his visit he heard a great deal more about babies, a very great deal more, and there were, indeed, to be two babies but not, as it transpired. twins. Ann's daughter was not the only person in the family who was pregnant. Ann was as well! Excited about becoming a grandmother: not so excited about becoming a mother again. Her daughter, Susan, had apparently been beside herself, "But Mum, this is my time. My time! It's me meant to be having a baby not you. Don't be ridiculous. You can't be!"

But it seemed Ann could and was. Bill had reported his daughter's words and it was clear he found the whole thing very funny. "They're due about the same time. Wouldn't it be funny if..."

Not only funny - perhaps - but the reality. Both on the same day, pretty much the same time and what was more in the very same hospital. The midwives and nurses had been amused too. Just like old times, some of the older ones said.

Mother and daughter - mothers together in the same ward, in adjoining beds with their newborn babies side by side in their transparent plastic cots, albeit one wrapped in a blue blanket and one in pink - Little Uncle William Paul and his equally little niece, Kylie! Two tiny tots together.

And there was a question, a topic not exactly hidden away by Bill and Ann right from that visit to their house when Paul learnt the news, the question of who actually was the father.

"We never thought. No period for a couple of months. I, we thought all that over. But then I began to feel a little different and I suddenly thought - oo-err."

"She didn't tell me, of course. Went to the doctors and... it was a bit of a surprise I can tell you when Ann, ever so casually mentioned, just as we sat down to watch 'The Two Ronnies' on the box, she was in the pudding club.

"I mean, contraception at my age."

Bill looked at Paul, "Your sperm and mine as mixed up as if it had been put in a Kenwood."

"That's not quite how my vagina works, Bill!"

"Well, pestle and mortar then."

"Pestles, Bill, pestles plural - that's the point!"

Ann's joke had been amusing - if the pregnancy was not quite so amusing. It was going to be a lot of hard work having a baby at their time of life though clearly there was going to be a lot of sharing between mother and daughter - mother and mother. No doubt it would sometimes be uncle and niece clamped one to each breast - when Ann or Susan was absent, the other would provide.

But the question. The question voiced between Ann, Bill and Paul - who was the father? Of course difficult to tell. Did little Will Paul look like Bill or did it look like Paul? Did the little thing really look much like Ann actually? To Paul it looked rather like a baby. Even growing up it was not exactly clear. There were things about the nose and forehead that looked like Paul, or so Ann said, but the shape of the mouth and ultimate tendency to baldness did somewhat resemble Bill. It was not something mentioned outside the circle of Bill, Ann and Paul. Little Will Paul thought Bill his father and Paul an honorary 'uncle.' A very nice uncle who rather spoilt him on visits with presents.

Bill was completely unconcerned at the idea he might not be the father. "Paul, I've got three kids - or, anyway, Ann assures me they are mine." His face creasing into a smile showed he had absolutely no doubt on that score. "So, if number four is really your number one - I'm more than delighted. I hope he is, actually, but we'll never know - and does it matter? Joint effort, eh, mate?"

It was a close relationship with Will Paul. Paul came to stay often and certainly Bill and Ann brought Will Paul for seaside holidays. It became a tradition for Paul to come and stay at Christmas. They even had Paul play Father Christmas year after year, really dressing up for the part. Bill had bought the costume. Of course little Will Paul never saw the act, did not see his stocking being filled by a white haired, white bearded old man in a long red coat with black boots. It was rather different for Ann when Paul came back into the bedroom having made his important delivery to the sleeping little boy.

It had been Bill's idea all along dating back to his comment, or was it Ann's, about Paul's snow white pubic hair - about it looking just like what Father Christmas' prick must look like! Every year Paul would come back to their bedroom and find Ann sitting up in bed holding her teddy bear,

"Have you got something for me too, Father Christmas?"

And Paul would do the 'flasher' thing with his long red coat, just pull it apart and reveal himself naked underneath. Not just naked but erect. His penis rising from its bed of whitest wool and, what was more, with a ribbon around it.

"Oooh, Father Christmas, something for me to suck!"

The years wore on. Paul did not, this time, at all lose touch with Bill and Ann, and indeed his possible son. Far from it. He was still enjoying sexual relations with Ann - usually in the presence and with the involvement of Bill but not absolutely always - right up until he was 83 when things just did not seem to work anymore however Ann tried. And to her credit, she certainly tried!

Never in bad health and so it was more the shock when Bill put down the local paper one evening and looked across at Ann. He had gone white as a sheet.

"Paul..." he said. "Paul - he's died."

And there it was in the local newspaper. 'Successful local businessman dies.' The local journalists had been quick off the mark. They had found out, despite Paul not having been 'local' for years. An obituary indeed listing just how successful he had been and how well regarded. There were things Bill and Ann did not know at all. Paul had been a modest man.

Ann was completely dumbstruck when a letter from a solicitor, an executor of the estate, advised her that she and Bill had been left everything by Paul. Sole beneficiaries of the estate. It made them wealthy people even allowing for death duties. They had not at all expected that. A little bequest for Will Paul would not have been unexpected, indeed perhaps quite a large one but everything? Ann was in floods of tears and, after a time comforting her, Bill went for a long and lonely walk. He was going to miss his friend.