Chris And Mark Go On Holiday free porn video

Chris and Mark Go on Holiday by DKB What I Did On My Holiday by Chris Burns For my holiday I went for the first time on holiday without my mum and dad. I stayed with my friend Mark and his parents in a cottage in Cheadle near Stoke on Trent. We saw people making pots and we played football a lot and ate ice cream a lot and the best bit was going to Alton Towers and going on as many rides as we could. My favourites were Oblivion, which was really scary, and also the Flume. +++ For his thirteenth birthday Mark had expressed a wish for Chris to come on holiday with them. Mrs Halford wasn't sure whether he came up with the idea on his own or if Chris put him up to it, but whichever it was Mark seemed really keen and since he didn't have many other friends she didn't want to discourage him, no matter what she might have thought of Chris herself. The Halfords knew that Mr and Mrs Burns were going through a difficult patch and were not planning to take a holiday that year, so for a nominal contribution they arranged that Chris could come with them, so he wouldn't miss out on some time away. They rented a cottage in the attractive little town of Cheadle, in Staffordshire. It had a double and a single room, but Chris brought his parents' camp bed so he and Mark could share a room. At the back of the house there was a grassy patch of ground the boys could play on. In many ways they were very different. Mark was tall for his age, somehow gangly and stocky both at once, and often felt awkward about his size. People said that he was growing up into a handsome young man, but he was timid and reserved. To some he seemed surly, but he was never less than well-behaved, at home and school. By contrast Chris was very short and physically unassuming, but made himself stand out as much as he could by being loud and outrageous, and by wearing his thick mop of hair long and wild. He was unruly, reckless and contrary. He could be quick-tempered, but only really liked getting into fights with people bigger and nastier than he was, which made him popular with some. He made friends easily, but was peculiarly attached to Mark. He enjoyed winding him up. Mark was very clever in some ways but easy to fool in others. But from Chris he took it in good spirit and always laughed when he saw the joke. Mark admired Chris' carefree daring. Chris did what he wanted no matter what anyone said. Mark couldn't imagine himself ever being like that, but he found it exciting to be around Chris. The two boys had been close friends for only a couple of years, but were now seemingly inseparable. Chris was used to seaside holidays where his parents lay on the beach all the time and he entertained himself as he pleased. But Mr and Mrs Halford believed in planning their holidays with organised activities. Staffordshire had been in the heart of the Industrial Revolution, so they visited museums that demonstrated pot-making, or had old working steam engines. And there was one where you put on a safety helmet and went on a tour down a mine. For Mark's sake Chris was on his best behaviour, which didn't mean that he didn't rush around madly all the time, but it did mean that when Mrs Halford asked him if he couldn't please calm down for a bit he was so sweetly contrite that she found it difficult to stay annoyed at him. One particularly hot day they took a rest and didn't go anywhere. The boys read a bit, and mooched around the garden, then went out back to play football in the afternoon. A tree and a rucksack stood in for goalposts and they knocked a ball about between them, sometimes pretending to be on the same team, sometimes opponents. Mark was faster and could kick the ball harder, but Chris, normally quite overactive, conserved his energy, putting on agile bursts of speed only when necessary. By the end of the afternoon they were both tired, but still playing. Chris had the ball, but was holding back, trying to tempt Mark away from his goal-line. Mark made an ill-judged rush for the ball, but Chris dodged to one side and then booted it as hard as he could. Mark leapt towards the ball and just caught it with the edge of his shoe, whereupon it went flying off over a fence. They looked at each other and sighed and went, together, to see about retrieving it. The fence came to an end at the back of a house and poking their noses round the edge, they could see a well-tended back garden and a woman sitting up on a sun-lounger. She was topless. She had long, lightly tanned legs, a little green bikini bottom, a long, lightly tanned body and curly, light brown hair. Her breasts were large and round and evenly tanned with the rest of her body. She waved and called to them, "Hello boys. You want your ball back?" Her breasts jiggled slightly when she waved. Mark hung back nervously, but Chris walked boldly in. The woman stood up to point out where the ball was in the corner of the garden and her breasts hung down pendulously, forming a deep cleavage. As Chris walked back with the ball he noticed that the woman's body looked soft and smooth, though her face and hands were slightly lined. Perhaps in her early thirties, she looked partly like a glamour model and partly, disarmingly, like somebody's mum. She sat down again as Chris approached and said, "What are your names?" "I'm Chris and that's Mark." He pointed. "I think Mark is shy," she said, "but you can tell him from me he's cute." "Ok." "You boys play more carefully now, ok? But don't be afraid to come back if you want to, any time." "Thank you." When Chris went back to Mark he saw that Mark had an expression of wide- eyed panic on his face and he had his hands jammed in his pockets, presumably trying to hide the slight bulge in his shorts. By unspoken agreement they stopped playing football and went back to the cottage. When they got back Chris went into the bathroom and masturbated while thinking about the woman and her heavy cleavage. But as he was about to come he suddenly thought about Mark's erection bulging out of his shorts, and then about the expression on Mark's face, scared but fascinated, frozen in anxious desire. Afterwards Chris went into their bedroom and saw Mark in his bed, under the duvet though he was still dressed. Mark quickly pulled his hand out from under the duvet and said, awkwardly, "Hi." Then Chris felt like an idiot. He said, "Oh, sorry, I just wanted my...book." He could see it on his bed so he picked it up, ran out and left Mark to his business. The highlight of the holiday, for both boys, was the day they spent at Alton Towers amusement park. A series of roller coasters burled them round in the air, hurled them down near-vertical drops or rushed them along fast-moving rapids of water. After lunch Mr and Mrs Halford sat in the burger bar drinking coffee while Chris and Mark went outside and sat on a wall eating ice-creams and watching the world go by. Chris was interested in every pretty girl he saw and wanted to know, seemingly of each of them, whether Mark fancied her. Mark squirmed in embarrassment. It didn't seem to him quite proper to talk about girls like that. He didn't feel sure he knew exactly what 'fancying' meant, but he did know that the kind of feelings he was starting to have about girls were not ones he felt comfortable talking about. "What about her?" asked Chris, indicating a short, dark-haired girl in a denim jacket with pink trim. Mark shrugged. "I dunno." "You should get a girlfriend," said Chris. "Like you and Monica Bradley?" "Yeah." Mark squirmed again and started biting his nails. "I couldn't...I wouldn't know what to say. Where would I take her?" "You don't have to take her anywhere. You just kind of hang out together. And if she likes you she lets you snog her." "Hmm," said Mark. Then Chris said, "What about her?" indicating a girl in a skirt and a jumper sitting on a bench across from them. She was tall and serious looking and had elaborately braided hair. "Do you think I could do my hair like that?" said Chris. "What?" Mark laughed nervously. "No! Don't!" "I think I could. Dare me to do it and I will." "Uh, I know. That's why I'm not going to." "Haha. But really, don't you think she looks pretty?" "Um, I suppose." "Yes!" said Chris, triumphant at having wrung this confession out of Mark. "Now you have to go and chat her up." "No!" "Well then I'll do it for you." Chris jumped down and went straight over to talk to the girl. She pointed at Mark. Then Chris pointed as well and the girl smiled and nodded. Then Chris walked back to where Mark was. He said, "She fancies you. You should definitely ask her out." Mark shrugged anxiously. The girl was facing away from them now, eating a chocolate bar. She didn't look like she fancied him. "Why's she looking away?" "Cos she's playing it cool of course. You have to go down and ask her if she wants to go on the Skyride with you." Just then a man came by, presumably her father, and the girl got up and walked away with him. Chris slapped his forehead in exaggerated frustration. "Aww! You missed your chance!" Mark shrugged again, relieved. On the last day they went out in the evening to a nice restaurant. Before they left Chris spent ages in the bathroom getting ready. He came out in clean black jeans and a dark blue shirt and with his hair neatly brushed. But when Mrs Halford saw him she had to stifle a giggle. "Oh my God! What have you done?" He waggled his fingers to show off his nails, each painted in shiny, glittery silver polish. "Where did you get that?" "I bought it at the shop at Alton Towers." "But that's for girls, dear." "No it's not. It's to look pretty. Boys can be pretty as well." "He does this sort of thing all the time," said Mark. "He's just messing around." "I am not!" said Chris. But the outrage was pretend and his eyes sparkled with laughter. "You'll have to clean it off before we go out," said Mrs Halford. "Why?" "Oh let him keep it Muriel," said Mr Halford. "Who cares?" "Do other boys at school ever bully you Chris?" Mrs Halford asked. "No!" "He'd smash their face in if they did," put in Mark. "Well, good for you. I think." When she got her husband alone Mrs Halford said, "What would Tracy say if I let her son go around like that?" "If I know Tracy," said Mr Halford, "she wouldn't say anything. She lets that boy get away with murder. Look, it doesn't matter. With his hair like that he looks like a girl half the time anyway." Mrs Halford giggled. "Oh Dan! You mustn't say things like that." "Why not? It's true. Look, tomorrow we'll be shot of the little bugger and we won't have to worry about him." "Oh he's not bad." "Don't get me wrong. I quite like him. But I'm glad I'm not his father. I haven't got the energy." "He is a bit boisterous." "And Mark is timid as a mouse. They make a funny pair." "You don't think Mark might, you know, imitate him?" "You mean, like, with make-up? Haha. He hasn't got the balls!" "Dan!" "Nah. I don't think we've got anything to worry about there." At the restaurant one of the waitresses told Chris he looked sweet and showed him her nails, long, elegant and scarlet, and Chris immediately wished he'd gone for that instead. During the meal Chris seemed euphoric. He seemed to fizz with energy and almost bounced up and down in his seat all the way through. He kept his hands above the table as much as possible and stretched his fingers out as he held his knife and fork, to make sure his nails were in full view at all times. Mark was half afraid he might die of embarrassment, but he also felt strangely excited. So often he had no idea what Chris was going to do next, which was scary, but exhilarating. When they got back to the cottage the boys were sent off to bed, but they were too excited to go to sleep quickly. Mrs Halford came up and made them turn their lights off, but they lay in the dark and continued to talk, in whispered tones, into the night. "I liked going down the mine. That was really good." "Yeah, but Alton Towers was the best." "Yeah." "It's a shame you didn't get off with that girl." "Hmm," said Mark. Then he said, "What did you say to her? I mean..." He clarified his question before Chris could reply. "What did you really say?" "Heh. I asked her where the car park was." "Why was she pointing at me then?" "She wasn't. You just happened to be in the same direction as the car park." "You bloody bugger!" "Haha. But I bet she fancied you anyway. Everyone fancies you." "Get lost." "Monica's friends all fancy you. I mean, some of them think you're the strong silent type and some of them think you're stupid, but they'd all go out with you if you asked them." Mark put on a bitter tone. "Maybe I should ask Monica out." But Chris refused to rise to it. "That's a great idea," he said. "You definitely should. Then afterwards I'll go round to her house and she'll tell me everything that happened." "Gah!" "Haha. But seriously, you should come out with us sometime, down the chip shop. There's always loads of people around, loads of girls." "What do you do?" "We hang out. Eat chips." "It sounds boring." "Yeah. But what do you do, when you're not doing your homework or playing on your computer?" "I run." "On your own." "Yeah." "What about Judy Mitchell. She runs." "I know. I see her at the athletics club." "There are you are then. You should run with her." "I dunno..." "Don't you like her?" "No...I mean...yeah, I suppose." "Well then. If I tell Monica you really fancy Judy and she tells Judy then Judy'll know you're serious and she'll say yes if you ask her out." "No. Don't. I dunno." "Ok. Say if you change your mind." There was quiet. Then Chris said, "Mark?" "Yeah?" "Remember that woman in her garden?" "Er..." "She fancied you." "Shut up!" "It's true. She told me to tell you you were cute. She was totally hot for you. You were definitely in there." "No!" "Haha." "Chris?" "Yeah?" "Good night." "Oh yeah. G'night." Chris lay quietly to try to hear if Mark was doing anything in his bed, but then he fell asleep without hearing anything. *** Hey Monica, How's uni? I miss you all the way up there in York and I can't wait to see you again soon, So, if you think of me and Mark on a dirty weekend in Amsterdam do you picture us, a) cruising the red light district, b) hanging out smoking joints in cool 'coffeehouses' or c) trailing around art galleries all weekend? Yup, you guessed it, we're getting all cultured. Spent a lot of time in the Rijksmuseum, which is their National Gallery. I didn't know there were so many painters with van in their name. Actually, it's quite good really. Not as many fat naked women as I was expecting. But anyway the best bit is just getting to spend so much time with Mark, without his flatmates, or my parents. I don't just mean sex (which is pretty fine though btw). I mean just waking up next to him, walking around with him, everything. He is so cute, he opens doors for me and everything all the time. It's a bit annoying, but kind of sweet as well, like he's trying so hard to make me feel special. And you know what? It's kind of working. So anyway, how are you? Is uni ok? And are you still seeing Rory? Will I get to meet him? He sounds lovely. I hope he's a better boyfriend than I was and doesn't steal your knickers all the time. Haha. Lots of love xxxx Chrissy +++ They were nineteen. Mark had just finished his first year at university and had a summer job at a laboratory just about due to start, but there was enough time for him and Chrissy to get away together for a few days, by train through the Channel Tunnel and to the Netherlands. Mark was waiting at St Pancras Station, increasingly anxious as it got nearer the time when they were supposed to check in and go through customs. It was long past when they might have had time for a coffee together first, so Mark sat on the concourse outside where they had agreed to meet, fretting and wondering if he shouldn't just start on the bottle of cola he had bought for the train. But then there she was and of course everything was suddenly all right after all. She was wearing green ballet pumps, snug calf-length jeans and a tight white t-shirt with "Fairy Princess" on it in silver letters across her little breasts. One thing you could say about Chrissy was that she always knew how to make an impression. Mark felt boringly normal next to her, but that wasn't so bad. She could be outrageous enough for both of them She hurried across with her bags. "Hi Mark, sorry I'm late. I hope we won't have to rush." And before he could say no, of course not, she dropped her bags and reached up to kiss him and he tasted lipstick, smelled her perfume, felt her squirm delightfully in his arms. She tried to be a proper girlfriend to him, however she could. She was sweet and cute for him, or coy and teasing, or outright raunchy, as the mood took her. He made no demands of her, accepted her however she was, so she felt free to experiment, to work out who she wanted to be. Being with him, in his arms, made her feel confident and attractive. And he was so tall and handsome it made her feel extra feminine. It was a shame not to be with him so much now that he was at university. But she looked forward keenly to the odd weekends they could be together and this was their first holiday away with no-one but themselves. She had the good fortune to have stayed pretty short and skinny, though her hormones made her a little rounder in some places than she had been. But she was disappointed not to be bigger-chested. Mark liked her little mounds, but she wanted more. She wanted to stand up and stand out, wanted it beyond any doubt that she was a woman. She knew born girls who were no bustier than she was. But she couldn't help feeling it was different for them. They had nothing to prove. The next morning, in bed in their hotel room, Chrissy said, "I wish I had big tits." Mark was towelling himself down, just out of the shower. "I don't think you need them," he said. "I think you're beautiful as you are." "Oh Mark! That's not the point. I know I don't need them. But I want them. I want big tits. Is there anything wrong with that?" He sat down beside her. "I suppose not." "Damn right. I want them to bounce up and down more. I want them to get in the way when I'm doing stuff. I want to have to get my bras specially made. I want them to give me back problems when I'm older. I want big tits! Wouldn't you like me to have big tits?" "Hmm. I think I'm more of an arse man, actually." "And there's another thing. I wish I had a fatter arse." He was laughing now. "Oh shut up." "No, you shut up." He shut them both up by rolling on top of her and kissing her hard. He held her tight and pushed one hand down her back and under her bum. He pushed his cock between her thighs. She could feel it rubbing against her perineum and nudging at the entrance to her arse. She felt her own penis stiffen as it nestled between his belly and hers. She wanted to melt. She wanted to open her legs and make him fuck her until she screamed. But she still felt a bit raw from the night before, and anyway if they started now they might never get out of bed. "Mmff, get off! Don't you want to get out?" "I suppose. What's the time?" "Almost nine. You want breakfast?" "Oh shit, yeah." "Well get dressed, then." But as he stood up she felt a sudden pang. She reached out and grasped his erection. He froze, transfixed, and let her guide him back onto his knees, on the bed. She propped herself up on one elbow and reached with her lips for his cock. The taste of him, the feel of him in her mouth, was a familiar pleasure to her now. She had lost count of the number of times she had licked round his shaft, kissed his glans, sucked him down. He lay back on the bed and she crouched over him and pushed her lips down, swallowing up as much of him as she could. She set up a slow rhythm, working with mouth and hand, and she let her tongue flick over his tip. She encouraged him to reciprocate, fucking her mouth with gentle thrusts. But he was afraid of choking her and preferred to lie passively, letting her take control of his pleasure. She worked with dedication now, squeezing him hard and stroking faster, with her lips clamped round his cockhead. He stroked her hair. He bucked his hips. He moaned. His spray hit the roof her mouth and she gulped it down. She wanted to savour him for longer, but he pulled away, wiped a drop from her lips and kissed her. "Thank you," he said. She blushed. "Go get your breakfast. I'll get ready and see you down there." Chrissy was still erect when she got in the shower, so she leaned back in the spray and masturbated, with the taste of her boyfriend still on her tongue. Mark had long finished his breakfast and was sitting in the lounge reading an English language newspaper when Chrissy came down, a fresh vision of loveliness. She had put her hair into two pigtails sticking out from either side of her head. She was wearing a loose, turquoise top, a denim miniskirt and red, yellow and orange striped leggings. Her nails were painted alternately blue and yellow and she had pink, sparkly eyeshadow. Mark stood up to greet her, she tilted her head up to be kissed and he kissed her. "You want breakfast?" "Nah. I'll just grab a roll and we can head off." They rented a couple of bicycles and spent the morning cycling through the streets and parks and along the canals. They ate a sandwich lunch in a big park near the centre of Amsterdam called the Vondelpark. Then they were quite close to the Rijksmuseum, which was like a great brick cathedral in front of a big pond. Chrissy wasn't really into old paintings, but Mark brought them to life for her. He knew all the stories behind the mythological and historical pictures and he could point out all the little details that made them seem so lifelike. Mark felt life couldn't get much better. Showing Amsterdam off to his beautiful girlfriend, and vice versa, made him feel on top of the world. School had been dull. Apart from Chris he hadn't got on really well with many people. University was a bit better. He'd made a few close friends doing the same classes as him. But outside of tutorials he still found it difficult to just talk to people, especially women. If he'd ever had to go to parties and chat women up he thought he'd probably still be single. That his best friend had somehow, without any effort on his part as far as he could remember, become his girlfriend was like a minor miracle. It wasn't always easy being Chrissy's boyfriend. She was headstrong and determined. She led the way in their relationship, though he was always willing to follow. In the beginning he had sometimes felt embarrassed, and then felt guilty for feeling embarrassed. But he quickly learned to ignore stupid comments, people asking if he was gay and so on. He tried to keep away from people he didn't care for (which was almost everybody except Chrissy), but Chrissy had a temper and preferred to confront people. She was also a lot more sociable than he was and insisted on dragging him out to places. It wasn't that her friends weren't perfectly nice people, but he was glad to be getting some time with just the two of them alone together. For some reason Chris was the only person he had ever felt really relaxed with. They were resting on a bench opposite a big Vermeer. He put his arm round her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. "What was that for?" "To remind me how lucky I am." "Heh." She laughed and snuggled up to him. When they were hungry they found a friendly little bar that fed them beer and sausages. Then Chrissy led Mark to the nightclub she had decided she wanted to go to. Though it wasn't his favourite thing, Mark went out dancing with Chrissy sometimes at home. At club nights at local bars there were usually a few old friends to catch up with between dances. But as he descended with Chrissy into a neon-lit warehouse full of deafening rhythms and sweaty strangers he felt his heart sink and he knew this wasn't for him. Chrissy threw herself enthusiastically into the throng and Mark gamely followed after. He danced for a bit, but he felt awkward and spent more time at the bar than on the dancefloor. He stood and drank and watched the girls. Chrissy was a natural dancer. She had an unselfconscious grace that let her submit totally to the music without thought of anything else. At first glance it looked like everyone in the club was the same, all on a pure musical high together, and Mark felt like the odd man out, the only one unable to lose himself in the rhythm. But then he noticed that a lot of people seemed to be going through the motions. A lot of guys had a stock number of moves that they cycled through in a mechanical way whilst ogling the girls. Some of the girls, meanwhile, were clearly showing off, more interested in how they were looking than in how they were feeling. And then he felt like a ridiculous snob. It didn't matter if people were enjoying looking and being looked at. It didn't matter if they weren't all good dancers. They were having fun. But he wasn't. When he found Chrissy she tried to whirl him round but he stepped back and shrugged. "I think I'm feeling a bit...you know." He shrugged again. "Tired?" Chrissy smiled ruefully. "Oh, come on! It's not even midnight." "Sorry! I guess I'm just a bit..." He gestured to his head. "Oh dear." She gave him a kiss. "Get some sleep. You'll be alright in the morning." "Yeah, definitely. So, um, I'll just..." He made to leave. "Ok. Bye." Even as he realised she wasn't coming with him he knew he couldn't ask her to and he would feel stupid if he changed his mind and stayed. So he headed off into the night, caught a taxi back to the hotel and fell into a shallow sleep, which was disturbed when Chrissy came in a couple of hours later, put the light on, turned it off again, and collapsed, only half-undressed, onto the bed. She moaned slightly, rolled over and fell asleep on top of him. He had to gently push her away before he could get to back to sleep. When Chrissy woke up the morning was almost over and she was alone. She texted Mark and when she was out of the shower and into jeans and t- shirt she found a reply. She tracked him down to a bench by a lake in the Vondelpark. "Hey." "Hey." He shrugged, the way he always did, and said, "Sorry." "Nah. There was no need to wait for me. And I'm glad you didn't wake me." "No. I mean, for last night." "What? Why? I should be saying..." He shook his head. "I dunno. For being boring." "What? Oh come on! So you bailed out on me one night, so what?" "Well..." "You're not boring." "I guess we have different interests." "Well, my main interest is sucking your cock. Maybe that's something you're not much into." "Heh. My main interest is you." "Well, there you go. We've got nothing in common." "Ha! I just feel...You come with me on my stuff, like the gallery. I should..." "But I like that. I like being with you." "And I like being with you." "I know." "I like it when it's just the two of us." "I know. But I like dancing with you. You're a good dancer." He turned away. "You are! When you're not so..." She held her hands out to him. "Dance with me now." "What?" "Come on. Get with the music." "What music?" "Whatever you want. Think of something and dance to it." Her eyes sparkled, but she was serious. He couldn't resist. With a familiar mixture of embarrassment and excitement he let her take his hands in hers and pull him up off the bench. She placed his arms round her waist and draped hers over his shoulders. He pulled her to him, felt her head rest against his shoulder, let her lead him in a few slow turns round in the grass. After lunch Mark went to the Van Gogh museum, but Chrissy wanted to do some shopping. "And I want to get ready. I'll see you back at the hotel." "Ok." When he got back she was still in the bathroom. But when she came out he was stunned again at how beautiful she was. She was in a dark blue mini-dress, with a matching handbag over her shoulder. She wore grey-blue stiletto ankle-boots that made her almost as tall he was. A necklace he had given her for her birthday was at her throat. Her nails were crimson, her eyes were violet. He was used to her being cute and quirky. Now she was glamorous, gorgeous. "Wow!" he said. And then, "Are you...are you going out somewhere?" Her eyes flashed. "Ha! I bloody better be! You tell me." "Heh." It was their last night and Mark had booked the nicest restaurant he thought he could afford. Over pudding he said, "What did I do to deserve you?" "Hmm. Something pretty terrible I expect." "Well,...if you work out what it was tell me and I'll do it again." "Heh. Nah. You don't have to worry. Keep on as you are and you'll never get rid of me." "Good." She fed him some ice-cream. "Remember when we were kids? I followed you around everywhere." "Not like a stalker." "No, but...I liked being with you as much as I could. I don't know how you put up with me." He shrugged. "You were alright. Actually, I kind of admired you." "What? Why?" "Cos you were cool. You didn't take any shit. There was no-one else I really liked hanging out with." She tried to think back. "I remember you weren't an asshole. I think that's one of the things I most liked about you." "Gee, thanks! That's some compliment." "Haha! It is! A rare quality. There were a lot of assholes about. But not you." "Um, anything else you particularly liked about me?" "Well, if you remember, I found out what you tasted like..." She saw him start to smirk, then control himself. "No, before that! When we first met." "Oh, then! I dunno. I just really liked you. You were hunky. I guess I fancied you." "Even back then?" "I suppose so. Probably without realising it at first." "I remember you talking about girls a lot in those days." "Heh. I suppose it was the thing to do. Actually, I was very interested in girls, but perhaps not in the same way other boys are." "Didn't you fancy Monica?" "Hmmm. I don't really remember. I think I probably did. I mean, I do think girls can be sexy as well. But we were mates mainly. We just fooled around. Monica says she always knew I wasn't serious. She says that was why she liked me. I wasn't a pushy boyfriend. When we hung out with her mates they moaned about their boyfriends all the time. But still, it made me think I wanted a boyfriend as well." "So you picked me?" "Not just like that. Not like, 'eeny meeny miney mo'. I just realised how I felt about you. I tried to hide it, but then I couldn't. I had to let you know, no matter what. I kind of sprang it on you, didn't I?" "I remember." "Sorry." "Don't be. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. "Really?" "God, yes. I can't say how much I love you." She sighed. "Oh, Mark!" She took his hand and placed it against the skin of her throat. He moved it down to cup her breast, leaned in and kissed her long and hard. After Mark paid the bill and they were finishing their coffee Chrissy snuggled up to him and said, "So, what should we do now?" "Ooh." He checked his watch. "I dunno." "I can think of something." "What?" "Well," she said, "why don't you..." she put a hand on his thigh, "...take me back to the hotel and fuck the arse off me?" "Erm." He smiled and gave her a quick squeeze round her waist. "Ok." She sat in his lap all the way in the taxi. The moment they got in their room she pulled down the straps of her dress and presented him with her tits. He sucked each nipple, then kissed her throat and her neck, and then down again between her tits to her navel. He hoisted her up in his arms and threw her down on the bed. As quickly as she could she wriggled out of her dress and knickers while he pulled his trousers down. She got up on her knees and went eagerly to work on his prick, delicately kissing and licking it until it was as big and hard as she could get it. Then she turned round and waggled her arse at him. He clapped his hands to her buttocks and gave big sloppy kisses to each cheek. Then he picked up her lube and let a stream of it dribble down her crack. He gently massaged the area round her anus with his thumb and cupped her cock and balls with his other hand. A gentle warmth rose up in her innards. Then he pushed one finger right into her, then two, and she gasped and squirmed. Then he positioned his cockhead by her entrance and gently pushed. Her sphincter resisted, then opened. He pushed in slowly, bit by bit, and she panted heavily, as if climbing a steep flight of stairs. When he was all the way in, he paused and she got her breath back. She expected she would get used to sex, some day, but it hadn't happened yet. When he entered her, filled her up, started to thrust, it was a strange, exquisite, indescribable thrill every time. Mark liked to take things gently, so he fucked her slowly to start with, until he felt her loosen up and he could be more vigorous. As he fucked her he kneaded her buttocks, stroked her back, held her waist. She said, "I want to lie down." So they spooned together on the bed. She cocked her leg up so he could fuck her more deeply. He kissed her shoulder and her neck. He squeezed her tight, arms round her belly and breasts. A fiery lust boiled in her bowels. She liked to finish on her back. She lay with her legs in the air and he leaned over her and fucked her firmly. It was more awkward like this. He couldn't get so deep and sometimes he plopped out. But he could hold her hand, or play with her tits and her cock, and above all she could see him, see the way he looked at her, see that he knew she was his. For Chrissy, being fucked by gentle, loving Mark was a dream she had had. And that dream came true. When she was younger she had sneakily read her mother's romance novels, to laugh at how ridiculous they were. But now she had a tall, dark, handsome hero of her own to sweep her off her feet and make sweet love to her. Her cock was hard now. It bounced against her stomach. She squeezed it tight and tugged it as fast she could. She could feel herself reaching ignition point. A sweet explosion went off inside her. She gasped, arched her back, came and spurted. She felt her sphincter spasm and clench expelling him from her body. She finished him off by hand and his semen mixed with hers in the bowl of her navel. Then they rolled together in a sticky, squelchy mess, he held her, he kissed her and he whispered in her ear, "My god Chrissy, I love you so much!" The next morning Mark woke to the sound of Chrissy in the shower. He lay quietly until she came out, in nothing but a towel. As she rubbed herself dry her penis waggled stiffly up and down. "My girlfriend gets morning wood," he thought to himself and felt the thrill he still always got when he saw her naked. He could hardly believe he was going out with her, though it was almost three years. When she saw him watching her she smiled and let the towel drop. "Come here," he said. She walked over and he sat up in bed, reached out to her and started slowly masturbating her. She giggled, kneeled onto the bed and let herself topple over into his arms. She sighed, wriggled against him, kissed him, nestled her head against his shoulder. Holding her he wondered how long he could possibly keep her. They were such different people. He felt too dull to really deserve such a brilliant, exciting girl. But she said she loved him and to hear her say so made him as happy as he had ever been. He wanted to hold onto her as long as he could. For as long as he could have her and hold her, taste her nipples and feel her cock rubbing against his belly, life would be good. *** !!!WE'RE ON HOLIDAY!!! Thank you for emailing us, but unfortunately we won't be looking at any emails now until August is over. Meredith has been slaving over a hot easel all year so Chrissy is forcing her to take a holiday. If you want to commission Meredith to paint a portrait or to photograph portraits, events, stills for theatre or film productions, or anything else, or you want Chrissy to design a website for you, go to www.MKennedyArt.com and check our rates. We do love to hear from you and will reply as soon we get the sand out of our shoes. Meredith and Christine Burns-Kennedy www.MKennedyArt.com facebook: www.facebook.com/MKennedyArt twitter: @MerriAndChrissy +++ For the duration of the holiday Chrissy developed the habit of getting up early, when the sun had just risen. Careful not to disturb Meredith, who was never a morning person, she put on denim shorts, a bikini top and a pair of flip-flops, and went out for a walk. The house, which had been loaned to them by a friend and patron of Meredith's, backed onto a quiet street that only served a few exclusive holiday homes built onto a promontory that jutted out into the bay. Although hardly dressed for the suburbs Chrissy could, at that early hour, stroll freely without drawing too much attention, getting quiet, sideways glances only from a street-sweeper and a couple of early morning dog-walkers. On the far side of the street a grassy area gave onto woodland that rolled up to a cliff facing out over the Atlantic Ocean. On the near side, however, the houses had large immaculate lawns that fronted onto a meadow from which, at some places by steps and at others by a brief scramble, you could get down to a beautiful, golden beach. Chrissy preferred walking round in a circle to going and returning the same way. So on her morning walks she went down the street, let herself down to the shore and came back across the sands. It was also true that she enjoyed dressing inappropriately. Just as lipstick and clip-on earrings had given her a thrill when she was a little boy at school, so also, on this residential street full of wealthy pensioners, walking along in skimpy shorts and a tiny bikini top was just a little bit exciting. She was proud of her body and liked to show it off. At almost thirty her stomach was still flat, her thighs and bottom were trim, her blonde hair was thick, in waves round her shoulders, and her prominent breasts had, for six years now, stayed high and firm and drew admiring attention. When she got to the end of the street, before it joined the main road round the bay, a little track led down towards the beach. Across the calm blue of the bay lay a little fishing village and from above the hills behind it shone the warm morning sun. The early morning haze, the vivid brightness of the colours, the restful quiet, made Chrissy feel like she was in a dream, a bit like the dreams she had when she was walking down the street and suddenly realised she had forgotten to get dressed and everyone could see her penis. Those dreams made her feel more excited than anxious and she often woke from them with a mild erection. Recently she had started having dreams where she was taking her knickers off for some man and apologising for having a penis, which was not normally something she felt she needed to apologise for, and then she would suddenly notice, or remember, that she didn't have it any more. In the dream this was just one of those things, like "How silly of me, I must have forgotten." Then she'd wake up through layers of remembering properly - she hadn't actually had that operation yet, hadn't made any plans to get it, had in fact decided long ago that she didn't need it. Or so she had thought. She strolled gently along the beach, moving between the band of hard wet sand that the ebbing tide was uncovering and the warm, dry finer sand that was harder work to walk on, but more fun to kick up in little sprays. At one point there was a rocky, pebbly spur that came down past the tide line that Chrissy could scramble over and dip her toes into the rock pools and remember what beach holidays were like when she was a kid. There were little shrimps and shellfish in the pools, a few seagulls swooping around, and a young bare-chested jogger coming down the beach towards her, maybe twenty two or three, over six foot and with a six- pack to die for. As he approached, he slowed and waved. "Hi! How you doing?" She shrugged nonchalantly and said, "It's a beautiful day. I don't know how you can run in this heat." "Stay hydrated. That's the secret." He took a long pull from a water bottle and when he caught her staring at him he pretended it was a drink she was after. "You want some?" "Uh, thanks." Actually, she was a little thirsty and took a grateful swig from his bottle. "Let me guess." She inspected his physique more carefully. "You run a lot?" "Heh. I run, cycle, row, ski as well. I like to keep in shape. But you must work out too, I'd guess." "Yeah, a bit." She grinned, enjoying the way he flirted. "Been here long? I'm Chrissy, by the way." "Neil." He shook her hand in a firm, but comfortable grip. "Uh, a couple of days so far, with my uncle. I'm supposed to be working on my thesis in peace and quiet. But I find running helps clear the head. What about you? You here on your own, or...?" She grinned. "I'm here with my wife." "Your...oh! Right." She loved saying that and the effect saying it could have. Neil took it in his stride. "Cool! Maybe I'll see you around?" "Well, I walk here every morning." "Great! Same time tomorrow then?" She smiled. "Maybe." She watched his thighs as they pounded down the beach, then continued her walk. As she approached the section of beach below the house little Lucy spotted her, waved and trotted over. "Auntie Christine! Auntie Christine! Look what I caught!" She had a little plastic bucket with a miserable looking crustacean swimming round in it. "Auntie Christine, you can eat shrimps can't you?" "Erm, special ones maybe, I think. Probably not that one." After Lucy came her father, Mark, walking down the beach towards them. He ruffled Lucy's hair and said, "Why don't you put it back now, honey. Have you found any nice seashells?" "I'll go and look for some." "Not now Lucy. We should probably get back to the house, see how Mummy and Auntie Meredith are doing." "Ok," said Lucy and ran back up the beach. Then Mark turned to Chrissy and smiled. "Good morning." "You're up early." "I feel refreshed. And the little one was too excited to stay in bed, wanted to see the beach." "How's Vicky?" "I think she's feeding George at the moment. Meredith is sketching them." "Meredith's awake? Wow!" Mark laughed and they walked together up towards the house while Lucy, having discarded her catch, scampered off ahead of them. Mark and family had arrived the previous night to stay for a few days. Even though they saw each other several times a year Chrissy still got a powerful rush of emotion when she opened the door to him and he dropped his suitcase and swept her up into a bear-hug. Now just walking next to him made her feel warm and comfortable. His hair was starting to recede and he was slightly thicker around the middle than he used to be, but he was still her lovely Mark. She sometimes wondered if things could have turned out differently. But she had no regrets. The most important thing to her was that they were still friends. Mark talked of his research and Chrissy told him about starting to design small websites for arts charities and friends' galleries. Then she said, "How are the kids?" "Good. Lucy's really looking forward to starting school." "God!" "I know, I can't believe she's almost five already." "Oh, God, yeah! But I meant, looking forward...?" "Oh! I see what you mean." He laughed. "Yeah, well, she's still young and na?ve." "She'll learn!" "Ha. I suppose. But it's really nice to see her so enthusiastic. She wants to know everything. She asks about a million questions every day. I hope she never loses that." "And George?" "Actually he's very quiet. He doesn't cry nearly as much as Lucy used to. We were a bit worried to start with, but he seems to be doing just fine. He just seems to be a happy baby." "That's great. You'll still be knackered though, I bet." "Uh, yup. Babies do wear you out. That'll be you and Meredith soon." "Yeah. That's a little bit scary." "You, scared? I don't believe it." "Heh. Well..." He put his hand to her shoulder. "You'll be great." He said. She shrugged. "Thanks." Pretty soon they were back at the house. Victoria was sitting in an armchair with baby George resting in her arms, while on the couch, lying back with her feet up, was the shining light and love of Chrissy's life now, her rock, her soulmate, her wife. Meredith was thirty six, with neat, short brown hair; warm, laughing blue eyes; and a smile that was full-lipped and sensuous and also wise and kindly and witty. She was tall and athletic, with long, lean limbs (like a female version of Mark, Chrissy sometimes thought, but never said). Her swollen breasts, as big as Chrissy's now, rested against the huge belly, bulging over her shorts, in which grew their child. On her hormone treatment Chrissy had long ago stopped being fertile, so Meredith had gone for donor insemination and had conceived in January, making this their last holiday together before becoming parents. Chrissy rested a hand against Meredith's belly and bent over to kiss her on the lips. "Good morning my love," said Meredith sleepily. Chrissy went to change into a big t-shirt and a skirt. Mark and Victoria insisted on clearing up the breakfast dishes, so Chrissy sat down and read some Dr Seuss to Lucy and Meredith got back to sketching George, who wriggled happily on the couch beside her. Mark and Victoria wanted their first day to be quiet, so they all relaxed in the morning and then went down to the beach for a picnic lunch which Chrissy and Victoria had put together. In the afternoon the Halfords went to visit a nearby castle and Chrissy and Meredith sat out sunbathing together in the garden. When Chrissy mentioned meeting Neil Meredith smirked and said, "I hope you're not corrupting poor innocent young men again. I thought I'd taken you away from all that." "Haha! Nah. He was very sweet. But I told him I was married." Meredith raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sure that made all the difference!" "Heh." Mark and family returned in the early evening, when the sun was still high in the sky and Chrissy rustled up a light dinner for them all. Lucy had been bought a toy figure of a knight on horseback and all through dinner she babbled about the castle and made her knight trot around the table. Then a tired little girl and an already snoozing baby were put to bed so the adults could sit back and relax over a couple of drinks. "This is such a lovely place," said Victoria. "Isn't it?" said Meredith. "It's so peaceful, so beautiful. I could really get used to it here." "It is very nice," said Chrissy. "The only difficulty is trying to keep Meredith away from an easel. It is supposed to be a holiday." "Haha. That's true. But the light is amazing. I've never been very interested in landscapes until I saw this place. But the light just seems to shine off everything." "Well, if you tell John you want to paint the place he might let us come back." "That's the guy that owns the house?" asked Mark "Yeah, that's right," said Meredith. "Normally he'd be here at this time of year, but apparently he's organising some kind of conference, or something, and couldn't get away, so we got lucky. But I know he wants to come up and visit us on Sunday. I hope that's ok. I think he wants to meet you guys as well." Mark shrugged. "Uh, yeah, I suppose." "Actually, you might get on. He's a chemist too, of some kind. I don't suppose you've heard of him. John Drummond? "Not Professor John Drummond of UCL?" "Yeah, that's him." "Well then, uh, wow! I do know him, by reputation anyway. He's like the leading man in his field. I don't work in exactly the same area he does, but I know about his research. How do you know him?" "He collects my work. He particularly likes Chrissy." "Yeah," put in Chrissy. "He's got two pictures just of me with my bits hanging out." "Um," said Mark, "if we're talking about the same guy, he's like sixty, or something." "Yeah, that's right, a real sweet old man." "Well, ok," said Mark. "I'd love to meet him." "You must be almost due," Victoria said to Meredith. "Mm-hm. The midwife doesn't really want me to be here. But I feel fine. Everything's going according to plan and I'm officially due a couple of weeks after we get back." "Everything ready then?" "Uh yeah, I think so, nursery decorated, supplies all bought in. But Chrissy did most of it. She has this nest-building thing." Chrissy started in protest. "You helped! We did it together." "A bit, but you organised everything." She turned to the others. "It's been great. I've relaxed and Chrissy totally looks after me. But then she always has. I've been a feminist all my life but somehow I've ended up married to a natural housewife. I should feel guilty, but, well...." "Ahh..." Chrissy was abashed. "She's exaggerating. We work together. But Merri has to concentrate on her painting." "No maternity leave in your line of work," said Victoria. "Ha! No. Actually I can afford some time off. But as soon as I can I'll be back at it and then I don't know how easy it's going to be. We believe in shared parenting, but I know that if I lock my studio door then Chrissy's going to have everything under control and that's really reassuring. So, to be honest, I think Chrissy might end up Mummy-in- Chief." Chrissy laughed. "We'll work it out." "Oh, I know you'll be fine," said Victoria. "Have you guys got any plans for tomorrow?" asked Meredith. "Um, not really. You mentioned showing us round the village?" "Yeah, sure. A nice walk, a pub lunch." "Mark wanted to climb the Tor." "It might be a bit much for Lucy," said Mark. "Tor Pen really isn't very big," said Chrissy. "It's not much more than a big grassy mound. There's a nice woody bit." "We'll see how it goes," said Victoria. "Lucy likes walking with us, but she still gets tired easily. But you climb to the top, dear, if you want, you and Chrissy. Merri, I guess you won't be up for much of a hike either, in your condition." "Ah, no," said Meredith. "Why don't we just stroll round the reservoir and leave Chris and Mark to climb the peak. And, oh, I think there's some sort of craft jewellery fair in the village we could take a look at." Chrissy sat up, "Ooh." Meredith laughed. "Oh, she's torn now. What's it to be, Chrissy? Shopping for jewellery or going for a ramble with your favourite man?" She grinned. "I can do both." "Well, that's a plan then." When Victoria finished her coffee she and Mark decided to turn in. Meredith followed on and Chrissy, feeling sleepy and happy, sat quietly on her own, sipping the last of her gin. She waited until she thought the bathroom was empty but then she met Mark coming out in his dressing gown. He started, briefly. "Oh, hey!" She smiled. "Hey Mark." She put her hand on his arm. "Thanks for coming. It's great to see you." He smiled and shook his head. "Thanks for inviting us. It's a pleasure." They paused, then hugged. "Good night." "G'night. See you in the morning." When Chrissy finished her shower she came to the bedroom in her t-shirt and knickers and found Meredith waiting for her, naked. She was wearing a big strap-on dildo and in the summer evening gloom she looked like a weird ancient fertility symbol, a Venus-Priapus with bulging fertile stomach and huge, ever-erect cock. Chrissy rested one hand on Meredith's belly and reached up to kiss her. Almost instinctively she reached out with the other hand and stroked the dildo, feeling the gentle ridges that ran round it. She poked the tip down the front of her knickers and rubbed it against her balls and slowly thickening cock. Meredith pulled Chrissy's t-shirt off, stroked her breasts and toyed with her nipples. She sat down on the bed and slowly licked and kissed Chrissy's boobs all over and Chrissy moaned and stroked Meredith's hair. Then Meredith laid back against a couple of pillows. Chrissy pulled her knickers off and sat down next to her. With her fingertips Chrissy surveyed the landscape of Meredith's body, the phallic tower protruding out of her thickly forested cunt and the great, sacred mount of her belly with its two dark-nippled foothills nestling on the northern flank. Chrissy kissed her way up the insides of Meredith's thighs until she reached the inner sanctum. The strap-on was double-ended, with an inner section projecting deep into Meredith's pussy. Chrissy coyly kissed the tip and pretended to fellate it, which made Meredith giggle softly. Then she grasped the shaft and worked the inner section around and about inside Meredith's pussy while also kissing and licking around the outside, her labia and clitoris. Then she pulled the dildo out and to one side so she could get full access. Meredith spread her legs and Chrissy got right in, licking and sucking with abandon until Meredith shuddered to a climax. Then Meredith strapped the dildo back on and lay back. Chrissy lubed herself up, straddled Meredith's hips and lowered herself down. She put her hands on her buttocks and pulled them apart and she felt each ridge of the dildo push past her sphincter until she was sitting on Meredith's pubis and she could feel the whole length inside her. Meredith rested her hands on Chrissy's hips and Chrissy raised and lowered herself, increasing her speed as her sphincter relaxed and became capable of taking it faster. Her cock and tits bounced in rhythm. As she fucked herself on the dildo she took her wife's hands and looked into her eyes and a surging warmth spread over her chest, from her heart to her nipples and down to her groin. Then she slowed and stopped and climbed off. Meredith clutched the dildo and fucked herself with it and masturbated with her other hand until she came again. Then Meredith sat up carefully and took off the strap-on. Chrissy lay down on her front and Meredith massaged her thighs, and then her buttocks and anus, and worked a stubby dildo vigorously in and out of her arse. Chrissy slowly writhed and bucked her hips and felt her nipples and cock rubbing against the blankets beneath her. As well as fucking her with the dildo Meredith lightly stroked and scratched the inside of Chrissy's thighs, her buttocks and the small of her back. A slow boiling built up in Chrissy's innards until she couldn't take any more and she rolled onto her back and spread her legs, clenched her fist round her cock and started tugging furiously. Meredith squeezed Chrissy's boobs, pinched her nipples and held the dildo crammed deep into her arse and Chrissy masturbated as hard as she could until she felt the fire of orgasm build up to a peak, then fall away to a warm glow. When Chrissy was totally spent Meredith lay on her back in the dark and Chrissy lay on her side gently panting, head lying against Meredith's breast and arm resting on her great heaving belly. Chrissy said, "You know...?" "Mm hm?" "I think...I've decided. I want to... you know... I want to do it." Meredith turned to Chrissy and kissed her on the forehead. "Are you sure?" "Yeah. I'm ready, ready to go further." "Why now, if you don't mind me asking?" "It just feels right. I'm ready for the next stage." "I don't know why you didn't do it ages ago. You can get it on the NHS, can't you? I mean, you're all diagnosed and everything, long before I even met you." "I don't know. It didn't seem to matter. I mean, I always felt like I was kind of a girl, but I didn't feel a great need to get rid of my privates. When I realised I didn't really have to I was like, 'ok'. What mattered was how I felt in myself and how I felt with other people. My hormones help me live as female and that was enough." "You got tits." "Ha. Yeah. But tits are cool, though. Aren't they?" "Heh. Yeah. They are quite nice. But what's different now? Why change?" "Don't you want me to? Will you miss my little thing?" "Heh! You know I love you whatever you do. But don't change the subject. Why do you want to do this now? I want to know." "Well, it never really mattered. I didn't feel less of a woman because I didn't have a vag. Actually, I didn't really go round thinking 'I feel like a woman' very much at all, though that's what I had to tell psychologists. I just feel like me, whatever that means. But now...I don't know. It's difficult to describe." "Honey, I should be the last person to be persuading you to hold on to your manhood. But it seems so final. It's a serious op." "I know. But I've thought it through. I've been thinking about it for while now, you know that." "Yeah, but it's a hell of a time to decide now, with the baby coming." "Sorry. I know. We won't both be in hospital at the same time, obviously. I'm not going to get it for a while now. I know you'll find it difficult to manage when I'm recovering, but we've got loads of friends that'll help." "Wait, you don't think...?" She rested her hand against her stomach. "Do you feel like you can't be a mum with a cock? I mean..." "No! Course not." She shrugged. "It's not as random as I'm making it sound. I don't have to do it for any this or that reason. But I want to do it. I want to commit to it, for myself, for the way I want to be now." "Ok." She reached over and stroked Chrissy's hair, and her breast. "I love you Christine and I will support you through anything." "Thanks love. Hey, what kind of vag do you think I should get? A big meaty cavern you can stick your fist in? Or a tiny virgin hole you can tickle and tease until I go crazy and beg you to violate me brutally?" "Christ! Maybe you should..." "Haha." "...wait and see. I don't know if you get to decide that." She felt something nudging her thigh and put her hand down between Chrissy's legs. "My God, you're hard! It's like, threaten to cut it off and it goes all horny. You are one crazy fucked up little girl, you know that?" "Haha." "Will you fuck me?" "You want me to?" "Yeah." She leaned back and pulled her legs up and apart. "I wish... Know what? I wish we'd just fucked more often. I like having you in me. Come and fuck me hard, while you still can." "Meredith Kennedy! What would the sisterhood say? You lesbian cockslut. And you call me crazy!" "Haha. Shut up and fuck me." Chrissy rolled over, crouched between her wife's legs and did as she was told.