Trip to Glastonbury

Maryanne spent Thursday night in our bed at McChord AFB. We did not get much sleep
because I had called in to my company's headquarters in Hong Kong advising them that I
was on business in England for the next week or so and would let them know when I
returned. I made up a convincing story to them, saying that I was working on a big
international trade development that involved the Communist Chinese, North Korea and
Vietnam on one side and the English, Germans and Italians on the other side with the
USA in the middle as a transloading point, and that I could not discuss this with anyone
because of security arrangments. They were very excited about this and wished me good
luck.

Those wives nearly fucked me raw that night. One time I was fucking Maryanne and
Gina was down there between Maryanne's legs with her head, under my cock and licking
my balls as I was licking and tongue fucking Gina in a corkscrew position. At another
time I fucked Gina and as I unloaded my shots of fishies into her womb she screamed and
I saw Maryanne pissing on my back which dribbled down onto Gina's nakedness beneath
me. God had obviously made these two lovely fuck mates for me on a "special order"....I
could not have asked for more! Our bodies were a continuous mess of wet pee, cum,
pussy juice all night. We kept our bearings by gulping large amounts of Kosher wine,
which made us have to pee all the more. Gina's bed was definitely going to have to be
replaced from being so saturated with spent cum and piss from this evening!

To keep confusion down, I took the women down to a local jewelry shop Friday morning
and bought them each a nice set of engagement and wedding rings, so that if anything
arose over in England (not that I suspected it might) that they could claim that they were
each my wife, on separate inquiries of course.

That Friday nite saw us at Sea-Tac at the British Airways passenger counter. True to their
word, those highly professional BA stewards and stewardesses took our luggage on
check-in and helped us aboard that big ship of the skies. As it turned out, this was not the
tourist season, so there was a lot of extra room on board. We each had six seats across to
be able to lay down on and hopefully sleep. We explained to one of the stewardesses that
Gina's husband was an Air Force pilot on the C-17, but that Gina had never flown on one
of these larger airplanes before. She wanted to know where Gina's husband was and we
advised her that we were on a Theological planning mission and that he was busily flying
missions in and out of the various hot spots all over the world. We did not say anything
but we "gathered" that this stewardess figured that Maryanne and I were husband and
wife. If she only knew...... 

Then we were taxiing out to the runway and we were forced back into our seats as we felt
those big jets suck in their air and push us forward. The front of plane lifted off and soon
I could feel the air currents grab us and we floated into the air, with the end of the runway
passing below us about 200 feet. We went into a steep climb and the pilot banked the
plane to the left and I could see Mt. Rainier pass under our wing as we soon were higher
than its peak. As we headed almost due North towards the Hope-Princeton area, I could
see out in the distance the Okanogan Valley, and then Osooyos, British Columbia, and
then Lake Okanagan before rising above the clouds and out into nothing but blue sky.

The women were about as excited as they could get without peeing their pants,
figuratively speaking. I had asked that for this trip that I would be very pleased if no
underwear was worn at any time, because it has been my experience in England that
fucking is normally condoned regardless of where it is attempted, except in most
churches. At Glastonbury Abbey, except in the museum, or in a service within the old
confines of the Sanctuary itself, normal social intercourse without sex being involved,
was entirely possible and permitted as long as it did not become an display of fucking in
an out-and-out orgy. On the Glastonbury Tor nearby group nudity with its accompanying
fucking was often the norm.

It seemed like in no time at all we were approaching the 10,000 lakes area of southern
Canada. The women could not believe that there were so many lakes down there, but then
I reminded them that we are 40,000 feet above them and as such we could see for miles
adjacent to just one lake. We were approaching an area that not many people think about. 
In this day and age where the computer rules we did not have to worry about it much, but
if we had not had our computer on this airplane, and if we had to rely on the magnetic
basis of North and South, our compass would have been going berserk. As it was, our BA
flight crew did not even have to bother about the correct heading as we continued to fly a
straight line to London.

Soon we could see the nighttime of the United States sky off to the distant to our right.
We would not experience more than perhaps 15 minutes of darkness tonight as when it
got dark on us, the sun would be coming up shortly to our left. We saw the shoreline of
the Hudson's Bay emerge and then it looked like we were crossing the Atlantic Ocean, but
in reality we were simply over Hudson's Bay as soon we were once again crossing eastern
Canada. We could see Newfoundland off to the distance with its blinking lights of
Halifax and then there seemed to be nothing below us, although in reality there was
much....millions of gallons of Atlantic Ocean and icebergs such as what had sunk the
Titanic in 1912. I began to doze off, as it was now my bedtime of about midnight back in
Seattle.

I was awakened by Gina. She had stayed awake and had caught a glimpse of whiteness
below us, she thought we were at the North Pole. I explained to her about Greenland
which calmed her concerns a bit...she had thought that the aircrew had gotten us lost.
Cuddling her back to sleep we lay in each other's arms with an airline blanket covering
us. We got a funny look from the Stewardess as she awoke us to give us our Dinner meal.
I think she was trying to figure out what this young wife was doing in my loving arms
when she had said that her husband was a Lieutenant in the Air Force and was away from
home, flying. If she would have checked the smell on my fingers she would have found
that that young Air Force wife's pussy juice had been bathing them.

We sat up and straightened our clothes. Maryanne reached over and kissed me full on the
lips just as that same stewardess returned with our meals. Now she looked really
confused. Maryanne teasingly told her that I was married to both of them, but that
sometimes Gina's husband did not accompany us on some of our missions for the church. 
We left it at that....I think that that stewardess came to the conclusion that we were
Mormon or something and we did not pursue it. She also exhibited some Lesbian
tendencies when she talked to Gina. She did not seem to remember me, but I remembered
her...on an earlier flight she had inadvertently dropped something from the food cart and
had bent over to pick it up, right in front of my face as I had appeared to be dozing. When
she bent over, her split-in-the-back skirt did its splitting and I was facing bare ass and
cunt...obviously she did not believe in wearing underwear. That would stand to
reason....most of the time these stewardesses worked behind closed curtains on the
airplane and if two of them were Lesbian, the absence of panties would aid tremendously
in their chanced sexual satisfaction when they were supposed to be working.

Shortly after we finished our meal were were leaving Greenland's airspace and in a short
time we could look out to our left and see Iceland off in the distant. Maryanne and I then
sat down and reclined our seats and Gina laid the airline blanket over us. I reached down
to Maryanne's legs and soon was cupping her naked pubic mound, as she reached into my
bermuda shorts and pulled out my cock and began stroking it to hardness. I could feel my
cum building and then I was bathing her hand in it. She pulled her hand up to her face and
Gina reached over after she saw what was going on, and the two of them licked off all my
thick syrupy cream and swallowed it. My "edge" had been removed, and now I slipped off
to sleep once more, to leave the women to their own devices of sexual satisfaction.

I awoke to Gina's exclamation of once again seeing land coming 'up' beneath us and
looked down to see the upper islands north of Scotland coming into view. I turned to
Maryanne and told her that unless we did it quick that she would not get to experience
shots of cum at 450 miles per hour at 40,000 feet like she had asked for in Seattle. With
that she got up and headed for the lavatory, beckoning me to join her in a few minutes.
When I got there she had removed her skirt and was bare from the waist down, and was
sitting on the wash basin. I barely had the room to get into that lavatory with her there,
and I sat down on the closed lid of the toilet seat and removed my bermuda shorts and
underwear. My cock was once again hard and I pulled this lovely Mommy of my son
onto my lap with my cock slipping deep into her baby nest. We began a series of hard,
fast pistoning and I soon felt my cum erupt from my balls and begin to shoot into her
depths. It was not shot at 450 miles per hour, though, that was the speed of the airplane as
I shot it into her in thick volleys. She finally understood that. We cleaned each other off
and then she put her skirt back on and emerged back into the cabin to rejoin Gina. A
short time later I joined both of them as we began a short brunch somewheres over
northern Scotland. We found out that in our absence that our pilot had visited to visit
with Gina, and had asked if she wanted to visit the cockpit for awhile. She declined
saying that flying was not her cup of tea, even though her husband was an Air Force pilot.
In reality she thought that perhaps he was a bit horny and after she and I had been fucking
she felt that these nerds had little to offer in issues of love or lust. 

We began to feel the airplane start its descent into London and Heathrow Airport, as the
pilot turned on the airbrakes and we began to slow down considerably. Then before we
hardly knew it I looked out and saw the Houses of Parliment and Big Ben slipping below
our wing. The pilot did a steep bank and soon we were leveling off to gradually descend
down onto the runway at Heathrow. We had spent just a little over 9 hours in the
air....good time coming from Seattle. The Captain advised that we had experienced a tail
wind most of the way across of about 50 kilometers per hour which increased our
airspeed tremendously.

We were soon through British Customs and then were converting our U.S. dollars into
British Pounds. I could see right away that these women were going to have a bit of a
problem....they were confusing a British Pound to equal one American Dollar when in
fact the exchange rate was One Pound equals $1.60. I decided that until they got more
used to that conversion rate that they could spend their own money, until at least we got
to Glastonbury. That way they could observe how I did and maybe learn from it.

I then called my car rental company and in no time at all they delivered a brand new sky
blue Jaguar estate wagon. We only had brought a couple of smaller suitcases and I
quickly place them in the boot. We all climbed into the car and soon I was on the M4
headed West. It was now 1 p.m. and we had about 4 hours of driving to get to
Glastonbury, plus another hour or so to allow for stopping getting something to eat or
take pee breaks. The women could not get over us driving on the "wrong side" of the
road, but of course it was almost second nature to me as I had lived over here in the Air
Force for nearly 4 years and had been back several times on church business at
Glastonbury, plus each time I came back I visited friends near RAF Lakenheath and near
Northampton that were almost "family" to me.

Chapter 5

We stopped about an hour later on the M4 at a rest stop just outside of Swindon. The
women had never seen a British "freeway" rest stop before. They are like small villages,
with several restaurants, restrooms and shops, and petrol stations, with large parking lots.
Once again, Maryanne was "coaching" me to "get back on the right side of the road as I
drove into the lot to park. The women definitely had to pee so I waited for them to come
back out and then we decided to order a small brunch as the airline had fed us so much
without us doing much exercise on the airplane. Since I was driving I did not order a beer
but they each had a couple of light ales. And then we were on the road again..it was about
3:30 p.m by that time. We got to the M5 near Bristol and headed south. Maryanne was
positive.....I was going to get us all killed by driving on the "wrong" side of the road as I
went through that interchange. Gina calmed her fears and told her to relax, that all she
had to do was to remember that we drove in England just ass-backwards to how we drive
in Seattle. That seemed to relax her a bit and we heard no more from her about my
"dangerous driving".

It was just a short drive on the M5 and I saw the signs to Glastonbury and the A30. The
A30 is not a freeway and it reminds me a lot of Stevens Pass, except it does not go over a
mountain pass. Roads in England that are 2-laned often resemble a country road in the
States with their overflowing trees that cover the entire roadway so that one gets an idea
that they are driving through a tunnel of sorts of greenery. From almost the time we
turned off the M5, we could look out to the distant and see the familiar St. Michael's
church tower of Glastonbury Tor. At first it does not appear overly large, but as you draw
nearer to it the Tor is really quite a hill, sticking up out of the surrounding English
countryside of the Somerset plains. And then we were in Street, almost a suburb of
Glastonbury if Glastonbury still existed as a viable economic center any more. Instead,
Street has become that with Glastonbury being more of a tourist mecca and religious and
cultural center without much economic activity. We arrived in Glastonbury at 5:30 p.m.
local time which was just 14:30 hours after we had left Seattle. The women were
"bushed" and I could tell that there wasn't going to be much fucking tonight. I found the
B&B that I normally stay at and the Filipina manager welcomed me with open arms. She
was very happy that I had brought along these women as she knew that when I visited
previously that I had often been a little more than horny. She said that the last time I had
been here that she had almost come upstairs to my room and fucked me and would have
because her husband had been scheduled to work that particular night, but at the last
minute he had gotten off work. She, too, was a bit horny as her Bloke husband did not
want to fuck anymore after the birth of their son 9 years previously and she sooo wanted a
little girl. I told her that I could not do her any good, that these "wives" of mine were also
trying to keep me for themselves. I could sense her disappointment.

The women did not want anything else to eat before they went to bed. They determined
that Maryanne should sleep by herself in the single bed and that I and Gina would share
the bed together in the other room. We all got undressed and were soon laying in bed
naked, getting ready to go to sleep. Gina cuddled into my naked arms and legs,
murmuring how appreciative she felt of being my lover, my secretary and now bed mate. I
made a mental note to myself that as soon as we returned to Seattle that she would soon
also become my legal wifey, and told her so. She was overjoyed and of course accepted,
and said that we had to do something about that by her leaving England with me pregnant
with my baby.

The next morning I awoke to somewhat familiar surroundings. I knew that Viola's
husband always left for work early on his bicycle, so I slipped on my bathrobe and slipped
downstairs to find the morning paper. I glanced into the kitchen and there was Viola also
in her bathrobe, beginning to fix our Breakfasts. She did not see me and I quietly snuck
up on her, my robe untied and flowing loosely around my nakedness. I reached around her
and nuzzled her neck, surprising her at first and then she was turning in my arms against
my nakedness, her own robe falling open and my hard cock was poking her in her little
Filipino tummy. I kissed her full on the lips in true French wantonness, and backed off
asking her if she still wanted to have a baby daughter. We gently slid to the floor and she
did not have to answer vocally....her hot wetness engulfed my hard cock and I was soon
pumping my fishies deep against her cervix. As it turned out, she was ovulating and yes,
she "caught". A couple of months later I got a note in the mail that I was going to be a
new daddy. Her husband was pissed, and soon left her afterwards in a divorce. In
England, Adultery is not grounds for divorce, but desertion is, and he had deserted her, so
she ended up with the B&B with child support payments from him for their son, and
unmarried mother allowance for our daughter because the British government could not
identify any man that had the same DNA origins as our daughter. I had "fed" her my cum
and sperm...later on that morning she fed us our Breakfasts.

While Adultery exists in England, legal norms against it does not. In fact it is more or less
considered just another form of communication and the sex that accompanies it is looked
upon as little more than a common handshake or kiss. Somehow in the early days of
colonialization of America from England of the religious communities coming to New
York, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, etc., those religious holy rollers were bound and
determined that anything sexually satisfying was to be considered a sin. Oftentimes their
leaders had attracted and married young beautiful women, and while the husband was out
preaching in the wilderness the poor little lady was left home alone. Those young farm
boys also got horny, and on more than one occasion the preacher husband returned home
after a 2-3 day sojourn with the young wife seeping some other guy's cum from her vulva
lips, with of course her tummy beginning to grow from an implanted seed. These
preachers had to do something about this so the appropriate laws were passed and at first
those guilty were made an example of. It rapidly became not so popular to be caught in
bed with someone not your lawfully wedded wife or husband. Guilty pregnant wives
were often locked into an apparatus that prevented them from moving, bent over forward
and forcibly fucked in their ass, and then pissed on. If they could catch or determine who
the natural daddy was, the guy got castrated without benefit of medical attention and most
of them bled to death. To put all this into a nutshell, word got out that it was not nice to
fuck another's wife or husband!

In England, on the other hand, the English had never learned this. Pubs were popular
places for debachery and drinking and the more people drank oftentimes the looser they
became. The micro-miniskirt came into being and a nice looking young lass on a barstool
with too many warm Watney Red Barrel mugs of beer often created a scenario that was
condusive to opening lines of possible romantic venturing that would never have been
attempted without the assistance of all that alcohol. Husbands and wives often ventured
to the local pub together, leaving their kids (if they had any) to the accompaniment of the
telly and some science fiction show. The game of Darts is a popular pastime in an
English Pub, with the losers buying a round of drinks at each setting. Oftentimes there
would be 10-15 settings in a single night. Common math would "have" Darts players
consuming as much as a gallon of beer apiece in one night. Many times the wife did not
play Darts, but her husband did, but each time that a match was lost the beer included
buying one for the wife as well. So she would sit at the bar, on her barstool, getting
mildly intoxicated while her hubby got sauced. It only took a little common sense to
understand that for some bloke that did not play Darts that wanted to fuck a young wife,
had ample opportunity to be able to enjoy the charms of some young beauty while her
husband was passed out from drinking too much beer. Usually about 30 minutes before
closing time, these young lechers would appear and with a little skillful seduction the
young wife would be soon walking out of the pub, headed home "to check on the
kiddies". Of course the hubby was still engrossed in his Darts game and barely heard her
and when the Darts game was over he was too drunk to even make it to the door to go
home. Meanwhile the young horny sober gentleman was escorting the young wife home,
feeling her up at every opportunity. Many times panties were left on the sidewalk, mini-
skirts were barely hanging on from getting unzipped and blouses were unbuttoned by the
time the young wife got to her front door. Of course the kids were in bed asleep and the
young wife and her new "boyfriend" were engaged in a process known as trying to make a
new baby, in her own conjugal bed. And long before the pub opened the next morning the
previously passed out husband was trying to find his way home in his hangover condition,
and the "boyfriend" had long split the scene of impregnation. When I had served in the
Air Force previously at RAF Lakenheath, I had become acquainted with Sammy and Liz.
Sammy was a lush, but a good Darts player. He had married Liz who had already been
pregnant and had given birth to a baby that she did not know who the natural daddy was. 
Liz loved to fuck. Sammy liked to fuck as well, but he also liked to drink himself silly
and as such he rarely was in the kind of shape that his dick would get hard and stay that
way long enough to impregnate Liz. I knew these two for nearly 4 years and in the
process she had had at least one of my babies (a son) and babies from yet 2 more GIs.