The Fowler and His Net - Chapter 8 - Sex Stories

The Fowler and His Net - Chapter 8

Friday nights at the Plough had become more tedious for Gary as late. There had been no bang on the wall from next door for two weeks and the regular nights out with Tracey has ceased, in part, due to his increasingly erratic behaviour. So, he was left with the regulars, who, suspicions of his mood swings, ensured that he chose the pub lounge, rather than the tap room as a haunt. It was here that he spied two girls that looked familiar to him, both were dressed in short skirts and both had their cleavage on show, they were both quite young, and both wore their clothes confidently. On his next trip to the bar he asked Barbara, the barmaid about them.

‘Oh them, they’re Don Soper’s lasses.’

‘Them!’ replied Gary. Tina and Alison had always been little fat things. No longer.

She cleaned a glass and shook her head. ‘a right couple of strumpets, them. Been through most ‘t young lads in’t village.’

‘’Oh, aye?’ inquired Gary, with interest. He wondered why he hadn’t heard this.

‘well, ‘es been put away, Don, for grievous last month, He found one lad wi’em both in’t bedroom I 'eard, put I’im in hospital. Now, ‘t lasses are runnin’ riot.’

When Barbara moved away to serve another customer, Gary thought he might try his luck. He approached the girls confidently.

‘Ayup girls, how yet doin’’?’

The two provocatively dressed youngsters looked him up and down and giggled to each other.

‘’Are you off out tonight then?’ he persevered.

‘Aye, we’re off out.’ The ...

... plumper of the two replied, more giggling between the two.

‘I’m Gary. Ted Fowler’s lad’.

‘Aye, we know.’ The buxom twosome rolled their eyes and Gary got the message. He was not the sort of companion they were looking for.

‘Come on Al, ' said Tina, let’s get off for town, I fancy some fun.’

‘Aye,' replied Alison, ‘Its bloody dead here.’

The two girls found their jackets and wiggled their way out of the plough, leaving Gary to ponder his declining pulling ability. He put the whole episode down to age. He must have been ten years older than them. Or maybe he was being shunned. He found it odd, but determined to look on the bright side. He was going on holiday.

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And Gary woke at eight on the Saturday morning, changed in his outlook and with excited expectation, he had buzzed around his house packing those things he knew would be cool and comfortable in a hot climate and that would by association be potent to the two new women in his life. But, now, Gary was short of breath and sweating. He had a dreadful headache.

He had dug out his old small duffel bag and had scrubbed it in the bath, his reasoning was that all that met him in this new country, from the pilots, to the airport workers, to the drivers would know he was a “bit of rough”, no matter what he did, so he might as well embrace that by carrying his small number of things in the most unprepossessing bag he owned. But now Gary had an itch on his nose that was out of his reach and he cursed his ...