Chapter 6: Sunday morning.
I awoke to the telephone ringing.
It rang three times before I heard Marcie saying, “Hello - sure - no problem - I’ll be there in 10.” before replacing the receiver.
Glancing at my digital alarm, which read 9:07, I lay for a few more minutes deciding what to do today.
The sun shone through the lace-covered window brightening the room.
I could hear singing of birds, the occasional car in the street and the sound of running water through the wall. ‘Someone must be having a shower’ I thought as I raised myself up starting to dress.
As I passed the bathroom door it opened and Rachel emerged wearing a large pink towel pulled tightly around her large bust and another smaller white towel from her head containing her hair.
Remembering the fate of Lynda’s punk rocker I raised my hands in surrender falling backwards against the doorpost out of her way.
“Good morning,” she said cheerily as she passed me clutching a few bottles of shampoo and other assorted bathroom products.
“Morning,” I mumbled as I watched her hips sway seductively beneath the towel as she shuffled her bronzed perfect, legs towards her room.
It was easy to see why she swayed Lynda’s friend, as she was positively the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.
I stood mesmerised while Rachel’s furry slippers shuffled to her room.
As her door closed Marcie appeared before me dressed in a white nurse’s uniform with regulation black heavy coat and white starched cap.
“You keep your eyes off,” she sternly warned as she hurriedly passed me out of the front door banging it loudly as she went.
‘My stay here will be anything but dull.’ I thought as I filled the wash hand basin with hot water, wondering how long it would take before the temptations of living here would engulf me and whether my strict self-discipline would hold out.
Time alone would tell.
Leaving the bathroom I made my way to the living room where I found Debbie sitting on a sofa leafing through a large newspaper spread out before her.
She raised her head saying a cheery, “Good morning” as I entered the room. I returned a “Good morning” as I crossed to the window to look into the almost deserted street.
The sun shone brightly as a few people, dressed in their ‘Sunday best’, made their way to a nearby church.
“It’s a beautiful morning, I wonder what mischief I’ll get up to today?”
Without raising her head from her newspaper she said frankly,
“I’m still wondering what mischief you were up to last night.”
Slowly moving to the back of the sofa I leaned on it looking down at Debbie.
She was wearing her white tee shirt with the words ‘I’m a good girl’ across her chest.
Quietly I whispered, “Marcie was telling me her life-story last night and became very emotional in the middle of it.”
Debbie raised her head and sighed “Christie?” I nodded.
“Someone should have warned you the subject of children is her weakness.”
I could tell Debbie had a deep love for Marcie and now understood the circumstances surrounding the previous evening.
“Try not to mention ‘babies’ when she’s around, okay?”
“Sure thing.” I assured her as the door opened and Rachel entered, with a gust of wind saying “Good morning one and all.” as she headed straight for the kitchen.
Rachel was now wearing a pair of tight jeans, which showed off her muscular thighs and legs to great effect and had her hair in a ponytail.
As Rachel’s hair extended beyond her waist she would scrunch up a pair of old tights, with the gusset and feet cut off, and feed her hair through securing her hair in a long, straight line.
I discovered very quickly whenever she prepared for bed or relaxed around the house it was not unusual to see her with her hair that way.
Emerging from the kitchen Rachel clutched a box of Cornflakes to her chest, carrying a bowl, spoon and milk as she swept behind me to the table banging each of the items onto the wooden surface.
“Is she always like this in the mornings?” I asked Debbie.
She looked across at Rachel behind me smiled and asked,
“So, how did last night go?”
“Ace,” Rachel replied amid the sound of Cornflakes and milk being poured into the bowl.
Debbie, still smiling, turned to me “This is one of her ‘good’ mornings – you should see her on a ‘bad’ day.”
Turning towards the table I could not believe my eyes.
Rachel, now crunching on the cereal, while leafing through a magazine, was wearing a light blue tee shirt stretched across her large chest, which wasn’t supported by any bra.
Her nipples could clearly be seen erect on the most fantastic 38-inch breasts I had ever seen in my life. ‘She needn’t have bothered putting the tee shirt on’ I thought as I stood spellbound for a moment.
“Are those communal Cornflakes?” I asked before lust overpowered me.
“Sure,” she answered clearing her mouth; “You’ll find a bowl in the kitchen.”
I walked to the kitchen door shaking impure thoughts from my mind and entered the spotless room, which must have cost a small fortune to install.
To my right there was a large marble worktop, with a fridge and washing machine beneath churning away quietly.
On the worktop were a microwave, toaster, bread bin, an electric fryer and electric kettle next to a massive gas cooker, which shone as the sun’s rays entering from a lace-covered window, reflected from it.
Under the window a large aluminium sink sparkled as I noticed the far wall was covered in a mass of wooden cupboards.
I began to open each cupboard door in turn marvelling at the array of tins, packets and things inside.
Eventually I opened one door to reveal the plate store, which contained about a dozen of each type of cup, bowls, saucers and plates of all sizes.
Selecting a bowl, resembling the one I had seen Rachel using, I returned to the table saying, “That’s a hell of a kitchen you have there.”
Filling my bowl with cereal and milk I filled my mind with the renewed splendour of Rachel.
“That’s Aleesha’s kingdom,” Rachel warned me, “If the desire to open a tin overcomes you check its okay with Aleesha first as she knows exactly what’s in there, Okay?”
“I appreciate you telling me,” I said, “I’ve already put my foot in it last night with Marcie.”
Rachel looked up from her magazine bewildered, which turned to horror as Debbie said. “They were discussing ‘Christie’ last night.”
Rachel lowered her spoon and spoke frankly, “Someone should have told you it’s not a good idea discussing ‘babies’ whenever Marcie is around.
You’ll soon learn we all have our weaknesses and Marcie’s is babies.”
At that moment the living room door opened slowly as Lynda slowly shuffled into the room.
“On the subject of weaknesses, here comes one now,” Rachel laughed as she exited to the kitchen with her bowl.
Lynda shuffled slowly to the table.
Settling into her usual chair, beside me, she lowered her head to rest it onto her arms.
She was wearing a beige coloured towelling dressing gown with large buttons down the front. Her hair was unkempt and her eyes were very, very heavy.
Rachel returned from the kitchen placing a glass, with aspirins dissolving noisily, onto the table by Lynda’s head.
Lynda’s right hand located the glass as she tried to hush the hissing sound with her palm before she raised her head, eyes closed, resting her head on her other hand with a deep sigh.
Rachel had by this time moved to the other side of me resting her left hand on the table and her right hand on the back of my chair, which brought her enticing bosom within six inches from my face as I tried to resist staring at her.
“So,” Rachel asked, smiling like a
Cheshire cat, “What happened to you last night?”
Lynda’s eyes slowly opened as she took a sip from the glass.
“I really can’t remember,” she said hoarsely,
“I feel like I’ve been backwards through a combine harvester.”
Her eyes focused on me as she laid her left hand onto my arm.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” she sighed, “I’m not normally like this.”
“Pants on fire.” Debbie laughed as the doorbell rang.
Rachel exited laughing, “That’ll probably be some guy wanting his combine harvester back.”
Returning a few moments later Rachel announced, “Brian, it’s for you.” She exited again.
I immediately left the table hurriedly finishing my cereal on my way to deposit the bowl in the sink, wondering who knew I was there.
That question was answered as I opened the room door to reveal Tracey standing in the doorway, with the front door open, looking at the picture of the bowl of fruit on the wall.
I ran to her and kissed her passionately for a few seconds before being interrupted by a cockney accent coming from the stairs.
“At least invite ‘er in mate.”
Opening my eyes I saw a young man dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a black leather jacket, waiting for a neighbour’s door to open. Mumbling an apology I ushered Tracey inside to my room closing the door on the smiling Englishman.
“How did you know where I was?” I enquired as she sat down on my bed and offered no resistance as I sat beside her and began fumbling with the buttons of her blouse.
“Louise gave me the address - Who the hell was that?”
She asked as I slowly opened the material revealing her lace-covered bosom, one button at a time.
“Who was what?” I enquired as I started to grope at her.
“The girl with the enormous chest who answered the door?”
Tracey snarled as I tried to remove her blouse.
“Oh, that’s Rachel,” I replied, “She lives across the hallway.”
“Does she now?” Tracey hissed rising to go to the window to look out.
Inspecting the wardrobe and the dressing table she returned slowly to the bed without re-buttoning her blouse. “And, how many other people live here?”
“Five,” I replied renewing my interest in removing her clothing without much resistance.
“And are they all like ‘Miss Treasure chest’?” She asked.
I decided it would have been foolish to conceal the truth so preceded cautiously.
“Well,” I began. “There’s Marcie, who is about 50 years old, I haven’t seen much of her,” I lied, “she is a nurse at the local hospital and works a lot.”
“There’s Rachel, who isn’t here much either, as she plays in a band in her spare time and is always out with them.
Then Lynda, who, at this moment, is nursing a massive hangover.
Debbie who is so sweet and innocent she is hardly ‘real,’
And Aleesha is an African student and hasn’t spoken to me since I arrived.”
“You mean to tell me you’re living here with half a dozen women?” Tracey hissed, “And you expect me to be happy about it?”
Pulling her blouse around her she held it closed over her chest.
“There’s nothing sinister going on,” I pleaded, “everything is completely ‘kosher’ and above board.
We all have our own rooms that nobody else is allowed to enter.
Most of them are never here and as far as I can see they’ve all got boyfriends, and,” pulling her to me, “I’ve got you.”
Tracey thought about what I was saying as I kissed her inviting lips repeating, with as much sincerity as I could muster,
“I don’t need anything to do with any of them as long as I have you.”
Tracey thought for a few moments as I renewed my attempts to remove her clothing.
“You know I love you,” she whispered, “and I trust you one hundred percent, but I’ll have to think about this.”
Disengaging from my mission I rested my hands upon her shoulders, “You know I love only you.” I insisted, “I thought this was what you wanted after our encounter with that cat the other night.
I need you, only you and no-one else.”
“I’m still trying to forget that cat.” Tracey smiled.
“You should know by now I am a one-woman-guy.” I pleaded,
“Well, at least one woman at a time.” I joked.
A smile came to her lips as I kissed them.
“I was wondering what mischief I could get up to today – do you have any suggestions?”
“Unfortunately, I can’t stay long as Aunt Maisie and her brood of obnoxious brats are visiting today and I said I would be home to give Mum a hand coping with them.”
“What time do you need to be home?” I asked.
“I promised I would be home by 3.” as we both looked at my digital alarm, which read 9:42. “Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun.” she smiled wickedly as we undressed.
I could feel my cheeks redden with embarrassment as I gazed at Emily, who was crunching on a prawn cracker rather loudly.
“I’m sorry with the details,” I laughed “but, I’d never seen people like these before.”
“I can imagine.” Emily smiled.
“This was an entirely new situation for me, Emily.
Never in my life have I had anything to do with women like these ones.”
“I was excited, hopelessly frightened and absolutely scared out of my mind with the emotions I was feeling towards these girls, and I didn’t have a clue what to do with them.”
“Sound like, you would have a fair idea what to do with them?”
“The emotions,” I smiled back,
“I had no idea what to do with these emotions.”
“Here I was in my prime,” I pleaded, again showing Emily the photograph as proof, “in a house with five extremely beautiful, sexy women and no idea how much trouble I was in - or could get in - if I let my emotions get the better of me.”
“Have you matured with age?” She enquired smiling wickedly, looking at the photo of me 20 years younger, several pounds lighter and with hair several shades darker.
“I’ve, kind of, slowed down a lot since - not that there was anything to slow back then.”
“I figured if Tracey visited at the weekends she could satisfy my every need and I wouldn’t be tempted by my new friends and everything would be fine.
All I had to do was convince Tracey I wouldn’t have anything to do with them.”
“Did she believe you?” Emily asked.
“Of course she believed me,” I laughed, “at that time Tracey had nothing to worry about.
The following weeks and months,” I assured her, “I firmly believed I could resist these urges.
I really believed I had everything under control.”
“And did you?” Emily asked smiling.