Orlright love! You heard the lady. You coming in?” Wendy nodded, feeling rather dazed. She’d not seen a naked man since … since … Well, not since the day she’d been inseminated. And then she’d seen rather a lot of them. Although what she mostly remembered were the smells, the tastes and, most of all, that insistent pounding into her vagina as man after man queued to take her. She was giggling and laughing and hating herself at the same time as she was loving being fucked by so many different men, most of whom she’d never seen before in her life. She followed Baz into the living room, where she could see Woz wrapping a thin red bathrobe around her, the swell of her belly being far too great to be decorously accommodated. “Hi there, Wen love!” she said, kissing Wendy on the cheek. “I hope you don’t mind. You caught me doing a bit of business. You don’t mind waiting another five minutes or so, do you? Baz has nearly finished. Ain’t you, love?” “I can’t be so fucking sure about that!”. At this point, I had come home after college one early evening, and found Mum and Dad sitting opposite each other in the lounge, in the prescence of Kabul's two big Arabian heavies, Abdul and Karim, who were sitting on our sofa. Obviously some sort of intense discussion had been taking place, because the room suddenly went silent as I came in. The tension between the four seated people was so thick it made the hairs raise on the back of my neck! Dad was very tense indeed, his face like a thunderstorm; although the two big heavies seemed more comfortable, even smirking occasionally, as the conversation [because of my sudden prescence] turned to lighter matters, and idle chit-chat even. As I looked at Mum, she seemed almost totally at ease; sitting there in her nightgown, smoking elegantly and chatting to the foreigners as if she was among old friends! Dad sharply told me to make coffee for them all; and as I brought it in, I noticed the Arabs looking more directly at Mum. This.
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