Desperate Measures
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Anglia Ford was desperate; she had to somehow stir some life into that flaccid chunk of man meat that was her husband’s penis. She had teased it with her nipples, massaged it vigorously and sucked it zealously, and still it didn’t stir.
Her husband, Hillman Ford, groaned and said, “Leave the bloody thing alone or you’ll wear it out.”
“I will not leave it alone,” Anglia wailed, “I want my conjugation rights.”
“If you mean your conjugal rights,” Hillman replied, “you had those a long time ago and what have you got to show for it?”
That was a familiar theme but Anglia wasn’t going to start and argument because arguments are not conducive to erection making, so she said, “Darling, I’m trying to amend things now, aren’t I, so just relax and it might happen.”
Hillman merely grunted.
She returned to sucking his penis and at last she felt it stir. It was not that in the normal course of events she wanted to engage in sexual intercourse Hillman — it was in fact an unpleasant experience — but she needed his insipid sperm in her.
When she thought it had achieved sufficient rigidity she heaved herself over Hillman and inserted it into her vagina. It was rather like trying to push jelly into a narrow letterbox slot but she finally managed it. She started to bounce on him with short jerky movements because longer strokes might cause the thing to slip out of her.
It took a long time and there was always the danger that it might go limp before Hillman ejaculated — if he did at all.
Anglia knew that she had won through when Hillman gave another grunt. A pathetic dribble of thin sperm that she hardly felt splattered into her for a few seconds, but Anglia was satisfied with this for it would serve her purpose.
Relieved Anglia removed herself from Hillman and returned to her own bed. She was safe now and she slept soundly.
* * * * * * * *
Anglia, sad to say, was as a young woman somewhat avaricious. She had the looks and decided that she would exploit this asset. Encouraged by her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Morris, and urged on by her brother Austin Morris, Anglia became a natural huntress and her pursuit finally led her to Hillman Ford; fifty years of age, a wealthy scrap metal merchant, and lacking a son and heir, you might say that Anglia became a Hillman Hunter
It was at a social gathering held by friends of her parents they met. Gnome-like Hillman Ford had been invited because the host needed a favour from him. Hillman was like Anglia, on the hunt for a suitable womb to carry his son, and his beady eyes lit upon Anglia.
She was nineteen years of age he decided that she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Her hair was a full rich brown, with glints of gold in it as though there were captive sunbeams struggling in its depths. Her eyes, set wide apart, were hazel, a golden hazel that again recalled the memory of sunbeams.
Hillman had certain ideas about what sort of woman would fulfill his need. Anglia seemed to fit his requirement: hips sufficiently wide; breasts promising a goodly supply of milk when the need arose. “Yes,” he thought, “she’ll make a good breeder.”
Anglia was at first repulsed by ugly Hillman’s attentions, but when she learned that he was immensely rich, he became surprisingly handsome. If at their wedding any of the guests were amused by their height disparity and thought of Beauty and the Beast — Hillman five feet two and Anglia five feet nine — they didn’t show it. Nearly all the guests were either in Hillman’s debt or wanted a favour from him.
There existed an unwritten contract between Anglia and Hillman: on her side she must keep her looks and produce a son; on Hillman’s side, if she kept her side of the contract he would serve as a conduit to provide her with money and those things it would buy.
Hillman held to the view that money isn’t everything, but what it isn’t it will buy, and it had certainly bought Anglia.
After eight years of marriage Anglia had only honoured one part of the contract; she still had her looks, but she had failed to produce an heir. In fairness to her it has to be said that Hillman was well past his best when it came to sexual potency. The difficulty was that Hillman would not acknowledge that he might be the one at fault when it came to propagation hatay escort of the species.
He had never threatened to trade Anglia in, largely because her decorative appearance often gave him an edge when he held dinner parties for people from whom he wanted a favour, but Anglia was never quite sure where she stood in the scheme of things.
Sexual intercourse with Hillman she found repulsive, because apart from his general ugliness his fingernails were always dirty and his breath smelt of old sump oil. She bore this bravely, telling herself she must do her duty, and it was somewhat a relief when Hillman’s always weak libido descended on a scale of zero to ten, to somewhere around two and falling.
This however, meant that the chances of her getting pregnant were also diminishing.
Another ingredient must now be thrown into the mix. Avaricious Anglia may have been, and fearful that Hillman might dump her, but she was also sexually hot. Given that she found sexual intercourse with Hillman distasteful, and also given that he could barely perform, Anglia found herself in a maddening situation.
Even when Hillman did manage to perform it did nothing for Anglia, and almost invariably she had to creep back to her bed to service herself while Hillman snored stertorously in the other bed.
To meet her sexual needs Anglia could easily have taken a lover, but she always worried about getting found out and thereby being thrown off the gravy train.
And so Anglia found herself in a precarious and frustrating situation, eased only by Hillman’s financial generosity. The problem is that as sexual urges can become so insistent the balance between sex and money begins to tilt in the direction of sex.
Thus it was when Anglia’s brother, Austin Morris, came to stay with them at their seaside villa for a couple of weeks.
* * * * * * * *
Austin Morris was by way of being a bright young man. A research chemist he confided to Anglia that he had been working on something which, he said, “Will make ninety year olds guys perform like a Mercedes Sports and will turn women into supercharged eight cylinder jobs. It’ll render walrus tusks and rhinoceros horns obsolete,” he added, “and so I’ll be doing my bit to save the wild life.”
Anglia thought of asking Austin if she could try it out on Hillman, but hesitated because it might work and she would then be constantly engaged in sexual intercourse with him, and that was something not to be contemplated.
Austin’s revelation did however lead her to open up with him about her dilemma, namely, her distaste for sex with Hillman, her unsatisfied sex drive, her failure to produce the required son and the anxiety she had that Hillman might discard of her.
“Well,” Austin said optimistically, “look on the bright side. If he did divorce you you’d probably get a good payout.”
“Yes, possibly,” Anglia said doubtfully, thinking of the three thousand dollar a day barristers Hillman would be able to employ. “But you know me Austin, I like security, and I’ve got that with Hillman.”
She waved a hand adorned with rings, their precious stones gleaming in the afternoon sun, as if to demonstrate her security.
“Yes, I see what you mean,” Austin said. “What you need is some guy you fancy whose firing on all cylinders, that way you’ll get all the sex you need and he might get you pregnant.”
“Yes, I’ve thought of that,” Anglia replied, “but suppose I got caught, or the guy started to talk about what we were doing, they do you know. Affairs are tricky; you need to find someone you can trust absolutely. There’s this woman I know, Cowley Rover; she had an affair and the guy started to blab. Her husband found out and he nearly beat her to death.”
“Yes, difficult,” Austin said, looking at Anglia speculatively. “A bloody good looking woman,” he thought, “a pity it’s all going to waste. I wouldn’t mind road testing her myself.”
Anglia sighed and said, “Well, are we going swimming or not?”
“Yes…yes…” Austin said, snapping out of his reverie, “I’ll just go and change.”
* * * * * * * *
Now I can’t swear to the accuracy of this, but someone once told me that if there’s someone, like a sister, that you’ve known all you life, and then you don’t see them for a long time, when you do see them harshatayota.com again you can have a whole new perspective on them. That warm summer afternoon Austin got a whole new perspective on Anglia.
Having already decided that she was a good looking woman and worthy of a road test; after they descended the somewhat hazardous ladder down to Leyland Cove — it used to be called Daimler Cove but got it’s name changed when a Leyland truck went over the cliff killing the driver and scattering several hundred chickens that had been its load. A lot of the chickens got killed along with the driver, and locals claim that at times the ghostly clucks and squawks of the dead chickens can be heard.
It was upon the sands of chicken haunted Leyland Cove that the scales finally dropped completely from Austin’s eyes. Sister Anglia was revealed to him in all her seductive beauty.
She had removed her beach coat and stood before him wearing a minute bikini that was clearly designed to reveal rather than conceal.
“Who needs an aphrodisiac with her around?” he thought, his penis going into overdrive. She reminded him of the MG XP he’d set his heart on owning.
While he looked at her, she was staring at him, or more accurately, at the growing lump in his groin that his swim wear, like Anglia’s, failed to conceal.
“Why haven’t I noticed that before?” she thought, “after all, I’ve known him for years. He’s a really great looking guy, and I wouldn’t mind having that piston in my cylinder.”
In response to this thought her cylinder began to lubricate.
I wonder if anyone has come up with a way of lubricating a car cylinder before the motor has started, it might save a bit of wear and tear.
Sorry, I got sidetracked.
The over heating brother and sister made a dash for the sea in the vain hope that it would cool their systems. Of course the outcome was the very opposite because the cloth of their swimwear was rendered transparent once it was wet, and this I suppose was the designers intention.
They undertook the perilous tasks of drying each other and then lay down on beach towels. For Anglia it was all happening. Her vagina was well lubricated and it was enlarging; her external genitals were swelling and her clitoris was pulsating deliciously and her nipples had extended and were firmed. An astute observer might also have noticed the dilation of her pupils. She was revving up to go.
There was no doubt about it; she needed a good fast run.
As for Austin, his penis was erect and throbbing and his testes were gearing up for a release of his sperm and already they were sending precum up his shaft.
Have you ever noticed that if you leave a car unused for any length of time it deteriorates more rapidly than if you are driving it regularly? The moral is, make sure you do take it for a regular run, and a run was what Austin’s penis needed. It was just a question of who was going to activate the starter motor.
It was Anglia who turned the key.
“I trust you Austin,” she said meekly.
“Oh…er…do you?”
“Yes,” Anglia said fondly. “Do you remember that time I stole the chocolate biscuits and you saw me and I wouldn’t share them with you?”
“Mmm, yes, I remember.”
“And mum and dad accused you of stealing them and you wouldn’t give me away and you weren’t allowed to see television for a week.”
“Yes, I remember but you did promise to let me…”
Anglia blushed as she recalled what she had promised and cut in quickly before Austin spelt it out; “I always trusted you after that.”
“Oh,” Austin said.
“You’d never blab, would you?”
“Er…no…er…no I wouldn’t.”
The motor was running, Anglia put it into gear and let out the clutch rather violently.
“Make me pregnant Austin,” she said speaking rapidly.
“What?”
“For God’s sake make me pregnant and don’t make me wait I’m as horny as hell.”
“Here?” Austin gasped.
“There’s no one around so get on with it, or do I have to rape you.”
Austin got on with it. He took off Anglia’s bikini and started to kiss her and fondle her breasts but Anglia was up and running. “Another time…another time,” she cried, “Do it to me now.”
Her legs were wide open and Austin could see her pink inner lips fluttering over the entrance to her vagina. He got between her legs and began to seek her entrance with the head of his penis.
Anglia, impatient for his penetration, took hold of his penis and guided him in. As the head of his penis entered her it was grasped by the muscles that surrounded the entrance to her vagina and he gave a yell of ecstasy.
As he penetrated her he felt the rhythmic contractions of her vagina like the throbbing of a well tuned car engine; she was sending him into the seventh heaven, wherever that is.
“Come in me…come in me…” Anglia was crying out, “I need it I…oh…mmm…mmmm…oh…darling I’m…I’m…oh God…oh God…yes…yes…aaaheeeeow…”
Anglia’s only sexual experience had been with Hillman, and now she was discovering what had been missing in her life. It was not the weak solution that was Hillman’s sperm that now burst into her; it was Austin’s thick young cum.
She cried out as she felt it pounding into her, and afterwards she wept from sheer joy.
“Do you think that’s done it?” Austin asked as he took his penis out of her.
“Can’t be sure,” Anglia replied, we’ll have to have a few more goes to be certain, or as certain as we can be.”
“Ah, yes, but what about Hillman, he might…”
“No…no…darling,” Anglia said, “He’s gone to town for a week or so, business or something like that.”
“Ah excellent,” Austin said, “but would you mind if next time we didn’t do it on the beach, I’d rather somewhere private?”
“Let’s go back to the house,” Anglia said, we can use the big divan. I’d rather not the bedrooms because yours has only got a single bed, and I don’t fancy having sex with you in the same room I’ve had with Hillman, too many unpleasant memories.”
They made there way back up the ladder and headed for the house. Once there Anglia decided that Austin’s sperm had been given enough time to do its job, so she went off and had a shower to remove it. She invited Austin to join her but decreed that they should not have sex under the shower on the grounds that next time it had to be full throttle, and they could have sex under the shower some time in the future, just for a change.
They retired to the living room and specifically the divan, and having had their high speed test drive they now settled down to cruising speed; enjoying the journey, as it were and experiencing the finer appointments. This of course involved careful hand and tongue explorations of each others upholstery and instrument panels.
When they finally finished it was agreed that they would make very satisfactory vehicles for further trips but of course, there was a problem; Austin was not going to be around long term, and what was more, Hillman would be coming back.
It was the return of Hillman that Anglia most dreaded, not because she would not be able to copulate with Austin — she was sure they could work around that until Austin took to the road again – but because she knew what she had to do with Hillman.
First there was the difficulty in getting Hillman’s motor running, and then the unpleasant ride if she did get it turning over, and this is where we came in.
* * * * * * * *
At the time Anglia did manage to get Hillman up and running she did not know if she was pregnant or not. Her effort in cranking Hillman up and the unpleasant ride that followed might not have been necessary.
As it was, well after Austin took to the road Anglia discovered that she was pregnant, and this only needed confirmation by her doctor. An internal inspection of her working parts showed her to be in fine running order. When she announced to Hillman that she was pregnant he declared himself to be well satisfied wither performance.
Over the following months Austin visited in order to service Anglia and make sure she was ticking over smoothly.
When Anglia gave birth to a baby Ford (male), Hillman was ecstatic; so much so that his ancient engine blew a gasket and his motor seized up. Once he was safely ensconced in that great service department in the sky, Anglia and Austin decided they would henceforth reside in a doubler garage.
The little boy, whom they assumed was the outcome of their joint travels they named Wolseley, and they had many happy and adventurous journeys in the years to come.
Of course, it is just possible that Wolseley had sprung from Hillman’s dilapidated loins. Unless there are appropriate tests you can’t be certain, but Anglia and Austin aren’t going got find out.
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