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Donna and Nellie's Tits, Global Warming and Moving In

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Three more accounts of my love for Donna
Donna and Nellie’s Tits

I arrived at the pub late one evening after a tense day at work. I found Donna sitting at ‘our’ table with Nellie who was wet eyed and sad looking. I enquired what was the matter.

‘I’m going to have them off,’ said Nellie. I was not clear what she meant. ‘My tits,’ she said, lifting them pointedly. ‘Nobody ever remembers Nellie the charming barmaid, just Nellie with the big tits. Nobody at work says, “take it to Nellie the first class secretary,” they just say give it to the chest. I’m going to have them reduced.’

‘Don’t be wet, Nellie,’ said Donna. ‘They are a national monument. That would be like cutting a bit of Winston Churchill’s statue or removing the tips off Tower Bridge.’

I put an arm around Nellie and hugged her. She sobbed. ‘I hate them. It’s as if they are all I am!’ More sobbing. ‘I’m just a pair of boobs with a smile above them if anyone ever bothers to look that high.’

‘Well,’ said Donna, ‘They do have a certain arresting quality.’ I glared at her.

‘It’s a big decision, Nellie. Why not give it a bit of time. Think about it.’

‘Good idea, College. After all, Nell, you’ve sort of grown up with them. You might miss them. I know I will.’ I glared again. Donna looked at me as if to say, ‘what did I say?’ and continued, ‘like College says, mull on it for a while.’

‘Do you think I haven’t? Look at the bloody things. It’s like having a horse’s arse down my shirt.’

‘She has got a point,’ said Donna, mercilessly.

‘What brought this on, Nellie?’ I asked quietly. And then it all came out. Apparently she had been asked out by a man, Sid the plumber, who had taken her to another pub. He’d introduced her to some friends and there was a lot of drink taken. One of the friends had said to Sid that he’d won and there was a lot of winking and nudging. Sid, when questioned, admitted he’d had a bet with a mate that he’d pull a bird with bigger tits than his friend. Nellie had poured her pint of Auntie Mary’s Old Jilling Ale over Sid’s head, much to the amusement of the assembled crowd and gone home alone and in tears.

It was at this propitious moment that Sid entered the bar. He looked shame faced and walked hesitantly towards us. He went to speak but Donna stood and faced him with a finger to her lips. I thought she was going to speak to him but instead she lifted her knee viciously and accurately into his groin. He collapsed like a burst balloon and a small cheer rose from the regulars in the pub who had heard Nellie’s account of the affair. Nellie brightened considerably.

The following evening Nellie was back behind the bar. Her knockers were on display in a t shirt that could barely contain them. Her demeanour was cheerful and, as I ordered a glass for Donna and me I whispered, ‘Have you reconsidered?’

‘Too right I have. I’m taking Sid to a party.’ I could not hide my surprise. ‘I have a bet with my friend that I could find a bloke with more bruised bollocks than she could! That Donna of yours has a really good knee action – I’m bound to win.’

Later that evening, in bed, I hugged Donna and realised that sometimes tea and sympathy are no substitute for direct action.

‘Knees must, when the devil drives,’ said Donna. I won’t tell you what her knee was doing at that moment but it was considerably more tender than the affection it had shown Sid.

Donna and Global Warming

‘This must demonstrate our commitment to reducing our carbon footprint,’ said Donna. We were sharing the large bath which blessed my flat. I was sitting, back to her, between her raised knees, my head back on her shoulder as her soapy hands roamed at will over my shoulders. I murmured my agreement. ‘I have never been totally convinced by the science of global warming but I can see that energy conservation is a good thing.’ Another murmur as her hands insinuated themselves under my arms and her nails ran lightly over the sides of my breasts. ‘See, College, it occurs to me that whilst we may reduce our footprint by sharing this tub of water I suspect that in a short while you will start getting all unnecessary and the energy you use and the carbon dioxide you exhale, that being a so-called greenhouse gas I think, will negate any environmental benefit that may have accrued as a result of our not having two baths.’ She seemed determined to get me all unnecessary as she called it. Her right hand was now doing something lovely to my right nipple while her left had wandered southwards and was working some magic there. I nuzzled into her neck and lifted my hips a little, the better to feel her digital exploration.

‘There you go! You’re what I’d call a bit of a self-starter this evening.’

‘Bloody get on with it!’ Not the most romantic words ever uttered to a lover but the best I could manage in the circumstances since my breathing was coming a bit hard and I was feeling distinctly necessary.

‘Patience, College.’

‘Patience be damned.’

I moved in a less than elegant manner, half-standing, turning and straddling her thigh, lying over her and riding that thigh as I kissed her mouth hard. This served to shut her up and also to help me rise to the occasion. A soapy finger ran between my buttocks and I felt myself reaching towards a somewhat hasty conclusion. I kissed her hard and, arms around her neck, continued to gyrate on her wet, silky thigh. Her finger pressed a little and then I felt myself rise out of my body and look down to see myself across her, back slightly arched and I heard someone making a wailing noise and realised it was me, then I was back in my body and my back was arching more and my mouth was open in a silent scream and then I shuddered and then I went into a paroxysm and then the scream came but it wasn’t a scream it was a groan, followed by a moan, followed by a cry of utter rapture. Her leg was working with me and suddenly I couldn’t see or hear anything but the volcano that erupted somewhere near my kidneys and seemed to flow through me like hot lava.

Donna held me tight to her, my chin on her shoulder.

‘Golly,’ she said, ‘good job we didn’t overfill the bath. That could have caused a tsunami! People in Bath might have been drowned.’ My breath came back to me in soft gulps and I nibbled her ear.

‘My theory is proved,’ she said, I bet you just exhaled enough C02 to open a bleeding great hole in the ozone layer!’

‘Bugger the ozone layer.’

‘That, College, is what I call sound science. Who could argue with that?’

Donna and Moving In

Donna moved in almost imperceptibly. She’d stay overnight, borrow a pair of clean knickers and a blouse and leave hers for me to wash. She’d bring a bag with some things in and leave it behind when she left. One evening in the pub, two nights after the bath I have described to you in fact, I decided to ask her the question.

‘Are you considering my offer?’

‘Which particular offer did you have in mind, College. You’ve made a few I might remind you,’ she said. Her hand squeezed mine. ‘And, so far, all your offers have been welcome.’ She was, of course, teasing me.

‘Well, I have noticed that some of your possessions have been left at my place and I wondered if perhaps this was a sign you might be considering making an honest woman of me.’

‘As it happens, I have been considering that particular offer. You will understand I am something of a free spirit?’ I nodded and felt my heart beating in my chest. ‘I have always tried to be self supporting – unlike my Mother who has supported half the men in Twerton at one time or another, likewise, Cassandra. You earn a lot more than I do and I have worried that the disparity in our financial circumstances might be irksome for you at some point if I found myself unable to contribute to the household for any reason.’

I made to say something but she put a finger to my lips and continued.

‘I should very much like share your abode but I don’t want anything to spoil our relationship so I have a counter-proposal which might find favour.’ I looked questioningly into her eyes. ‘How about if I come to stay for a couple of weeks as a contributing house guest and we see how it goes? A sort of trial period?’

I may have whooped but I cannot be certain. I know I threw my arms around her neck and knocked her wine over when I hugged her to me and kissed her mouth. She gently pushed me away and looked down at the spreading stain of wine on her white shirt. The shirt had become almost transparent and her dark, left nipple was clearly visible. ‘You’re going to have to wash that now!’ she said with smiling eyes.

We walked home hand in hand and when we got there the first thing I did was unbutton her shirt and slip it off her. She stroked my hair as I kissed her nipple. I looked up into her lovely, odd eyes and she smiled with me.

‘The laundry can wait, College,’ she said as her hand slipped up under my skirt. A few moments later (and here I shall refrain from explaining precisely what she was doing) she said, ‘Here, these are my knickers! I don’t remember saying you could borrow them.’ She slipped them off me. ‘That’s better, let the dog see the rabbit!’

Later still, she said, ‘If I am going to stay here, we will have to have an understanding.’ I looked up at her as I lay, sated, in her lap, her hand gently resting on my naked breast. ‘You get to wear my knickers only if I get to wear yours.’

That sounded like a deal to me. I rolled over and let my tongue give her an answer.

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