The Piffles: George and Gracie go on Holiday

[Tibxo]

For once in his life, George Ringo Paul John Piffle was a happy man as he walked up his drive to 1023 Spitfire Drive. Not only were there no relatives in sight, his kids were finally away at college and the house was his at last.

But not only that, thanks to meeting a man on a street corner, he had craftily fixed him and Gracie with all expenses paid cruise to a place called Spain, somewhere outside the United States.

"This will make Gracie happy." He said to himself. For months now, she had kept going on about their approaching wedding anniversary. Well, this can be their anniversary present.

For a brief moment, George smiled... until he suddenly remembered what his wife was like when she was really happy.

Oh no! I hope she has a headache!

Opening the door, George took a deep breath and stepped inside...




OOC: This is a closed thread for Maid of Marvels and myself. I hope you will enjoy it.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

http://www.Bibracte.dreamwater.org/ATWAS/Isobel3.jpg​

Maggie grumbled at the window, announcing George's return to the Piffle house. "Good girl," Gracie cooed, rewarding her dog with a Scooby Snack. "Now run along... I have some business with Daddy."

With all the children finally away from home, Gracie found that she could redouble her efforts to spice up their sex life. Tonight's menu would be a smorgasbord of aphrodisiac filled delights... and she planned serve herself up as the pièce de résistance.

Gracie figured she had it all covered: oysters and clams, grapes, gingko, betel nut from a shady Indian grocer. A soup liberally laced with Horny Goat Weed. There were mushrooms, asparagus, leeks. A drink made with hot milk, cardamom and honey. Hot dogs and mozzarella sticks with a "special" dipping sauce. She'd even gotten Harry at the local supermarket to order in a couple coco-de-mer, a fruit that looked suspiciously like a certain part of the female anatomy. George wouldn't be able to resist.

Removing her apron, Gracie adjusted the yards of Saran Wrap she'd swathed herself in and positioned herself strategically in the doorway of the kitchen waiting for her husband's reaction.

"I'm home, Gracie. What's for dinner?" George asked, walking with his nose buried in the afternoon edition of their local newspaper.

"Just... finger foods, dear," she purred. "But wait til you see what's for dessert."

 

[Tibxo]

George

Opening the door, George took a deep breath and stepped inside, remembering to hastily lift up his paper so that it looked like he was reading it. That way, if Gracie had anything 'lined up for him', he could just ignore it.

"I'm home, Gracie. What's for dinner?" He shouted out as he skillfully side-stepped his wife and continued towards the stairs.

"Just... finger foods, dear." He heard his wife reply. "But wait til you see what's for dessert."

Oh! Oh!

George had been married to Gracie long enough to suspect what that could entail.

He gulped.

"That's good, darling." He managed to say bravely as he reached the foot of the stairs.

Keep going!

"I'm just going upstairs to shower and change."

Don't follow me! Don't follow me! George prayed to himself, his escape route already laid out...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Gracie was barely able to suppress a giggle at what she knew George would find when he entered the master bath. She'd run the bathwater just minutes ago, scenting it with an oil she'd bought at Pokus Hokus. "Sure to arouse any man," the proprietor had giggled, twirling the end of his Faustian mustache. "And I ought to know." Five dollars more got her a love spell thrown in.

Twenty five years ago, Grace Piffle would never have had to resort to such dastardly measures. George had well earned the nickname of "Ever Ready". He humped anyone and anything that wasn't tied down... well, sometimes they were. Fact, he'd almost -- just almost -- worn her out a few times. And that was no mean feat.

Timing her arrival at the top of the stairs just as her husband entered the sally dah bane naked (Gracie had taken six years of French in high school and prided herself on her effortless interchange of the language in everyday life), she smoothed down another errant piece of Handi-Wrap and joined him.

"Hi there, lover boy" she purred, locking the door behind herself. "Are you glad to see me, or is that a Howitzer... " Gracie's grin widened as she struggled to free herself from the now airtight, drip proof transparent yardage. She wanted to feel the air. She needed to... drip. She...

"Ooh... It is lovely, isn't it, dear?"

George raised his eyes from the unexpected (though not totally unpleasant) phenomenon, a puzzled look which was almost immediately replaced by relief as both pairs of eyes followed the downward arc of his missile. "Mission aborted," he said quietly, his voice barely discernable over the sound of Gracie's wailing.

 

[Tibxo]

George

Once in the bedroom, the door locked, George relaxed.

Made it!

Now safe, George slowly stripped.

"Ah! That's better." George sighed as the second sock fell to the floor and with it, all the stress of the world had falled from his shoulders.

I feel so free!!!!

If only he could do this all the time.

But alas there were two good reasons why he couldn't:

(1) He would be arrested as soon as he left the house.

(2) He would be forever molested by his wife.

No, only in the safety of his own house and in particular his bedroom and bathroom, could he be his true self.

Taking a deep breath, he felt he was ready for his long soak. But first...

Going over to his drawer, he pulled out a battered framed picture of Ron Ely wearing only a loin-cloth.

"Just you and me, old chum." He said to the autograph. "Just you and me."

Unlocking the door as quietly as he could (as not to alert 'her downstairs', George popped his head outside the door to make sure that "her downstairs" was really downstairs. Seeing that the coast was clear, George quickly sneaked across the landing into the bathroom.

As soon as he entered, he knew he was in deep trouble.

"Hi there, lover boy."

He didn't have to hear her voice to know that she was behind him. Slowly he turned and faced her.

"Are you glad to see me, or is that a Howitzer... "

George grimaced. Torn with the realisation that he had an a storker of an erection and the fact he was trying to figure out what the hell Gracie was wearing (and how much it had cost him!).

"Ooh... It is lovely, isn't it, dear?"

"Erm." George raised his eyes only to see his 'offering' rapidly shrinking to nothing (with a sigh of relief from him and a cry from Gracie.)

"Mission aborted." he said quietly just he heard Gracie burst into tears.

Here we go!

Then abruptly she stopped. Looking over at her to see why the sudden silence, he saw that her eyes were fixed on the photograph, which he was using to try and shield his now very minute manhood.

"What is that???" She shrilled...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Having noticed the curve Gracie's eyes had taken, George tried to hide the photograph behind his back, leaving his dwindling front exposed to his wife's scorn. For a minute or two, it was a game of monkey in the middle -- or was that hide the snail? His hands were a blur as he alternately covered his nakedness from back to front and back again. Until...

"Give me that!" Gracie screeched, tackling her husband and wrenching the framed picture from his hand. Breathless from the struggle, her eyes darted back and forth from George to Ron Ely and back, not unlike someone watching a tennis match. "Love!" she cried.

"W-w-what?" George responded, his normally bewildered face even more so than usual.

"Tarzan! Why didn't I think of that myself??"

She looked as if she had discovered gold. And that worried George. It worried him a lot. "Think of what, Gracie? Think... of... what?"

"Why Tarzan, of course, you silly nit. All this time I've been thinking of ways to entice you. Playing doctor. Teacher and student. Slave trader and her property. Oooh... remember when we played library?" Her eyes now had a glassy look as she remembered those times. "We even played veterinarian. Woof! Woof! Purrrrrrrrr!" That last one made her shiver in a way that alarmed George even further. "Cripes, George. All this time. All this time... "

"It's not what you think, Gracie. Really it isn't."

Gracie was grinning even more broadly than before, and if this were a cartoon there'd have been an enormous incandescent bulb hovering over her head. But it wasn't. And she looked more than a little chuffed with whatever sick notion she'd happened upon at the sight of the near-naked man in the photo.

"George... Don't you see? Tarzan and Jane! Why didn't I think of that? Why... " Suddenly her face dropped as yet another thought entered her head. "Wait a minute. Wait just one minute. Ron Ely, right?"

George had the decency to blush as he nodded.

"He didn't have a 'Jane', did he?"

The look on her husband's face had "oh, brother" written all over it. Gracie shoved the picture into his chest, glaring as he clutched it possessively. "Did Ron Ely have a monkey? Did he? Well?? Did he?"

George shook his head.

"That was Johnny Weissmuller, wasn't it? The Tarzan with the babe and the chimp and the boy."

George nodded.

"I see." Of course she really didn't, but a wife never admitted not understanding her husband -- at least not in front of him -- and this wasn't the beauty parlor nor was it the monthly meeting of the Garden Club where such discussions ruled the day.

No chimp. No boy. No... Jane. The enormity of it was too much to bear and Gracie sort of slithered rather than fell to the floor in a faint. Her husband was gay!!

 

[Tibxo]

George

"Gracie? Gracie? Are you okay?" George called out to the lump on the floor. Not knowing what to do.

Maybe, if he had been dressed, he would have gone and seen how she was. But this wasn't the first time, his wife had 'fainted' and when his guard was done, had tried to molest him.

His dear old mother hadn't raised a fool. He wouldn't fall for that one again.

Still, she looked pretty pale.

Seeing that she wasn't moving, George with his hands covering his exposed bits, took a step forward and prodded her with his right foot.

"Gracie?"

Still no response.

This time, he gave her a healthy kick in the ribs.

Still no response.

A shiver ran down his back at the realisation that all may not be right with his wife.

"All that money I spent on the holiday..." George moaned to himself, even as he quickly retrieved the Ron Ely photograph...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Gracie's eyes fluttered open. "Holiday?" she asked weakly, struggling to sit up.

"Erm... I thought you had... fainted. Are you all right? I couldn't seem to revive you," George offered meekly, hoping that his wife would buy the line.

"You mentioned holiday. I distinctly heard you mention holiday!" She bounded to her feet and peered into George's face defiantly. "Well? Did you or didn't you say holiday?"

"I did. But do you think you should... "

"I know very well what I should or should not," she retorted. "Now let's have it!"

"Well," he began. "I thought... with our anniversary coming up and all... " George edged toward the door which he'd already unlocked while Gracie was unconscious. Covering his butt with Ron Ely's photo and murmuring an apology to his idol, he ran out of the bathroom with Gracie right on his heels.

"Where are you running to, George Piffles? I asked you a question." For the second time that evening a light bulb popped up over her head. "Anniversary? Did you say... You remembered!!"

George, his back to the wall and the photo now in front (though he quickly turned it so that the photo was facing away from his body), squeezed his eyes closed in preparation for yet another onslaught by his wife. Kissing he didn't mind so much, but kissing always led to... He shuddered at the thought.

"Tell me, George! Tell me what you have planned? You and me? A holiday?" She squinted again. "Please don't say it's a Friday night at another one of your club's dart tournaments."

That would not be a holiday -- at least not in her mind. George, however, had another opinion all around and he was wondering if he might have gotten by with that instead of.. "Spain," he blurted out. "It's somewhere in Europe."

 

[Tibxo]

George

"Spain?" His wife spluttered. "Did you just say 'we are going to Spain?"

"Yes." He replied just before he found himself being squeezed in a bear hug that even Hulk Hogan would not be able to muster. After what seemed an eternity (and everything had started to go dark), he found himself on the floor almost breathing his last.

As he staggered to get up, he found Gracie standing in front of him, now wearing a coat. Her hand extended towards him.

"Wallet." She said.

"Huh?" He grunted, still disorientated by the 'affectionate cuddle'.

"I need money to buy new clothes for the holiday." Gracie said, shaking her offered hand as to emphasise its presence.

"But..but..but it isn't for a few months yet." He groaned as he meekly handed over his hard earned piece of leather.

"Oh I've seen something that would be great for the holiday. Toodle-loo." And with that, she was bolting for the door.

George looked down at his feet miserably.

She's going to go berserk. Oh the bills! The bills!

"Oh, George." George looked up to see Gracie standing at the door with a look on her face that he knew only too well. "Go and have a nap. You will need all your strength when I 'thank' you later on tonight."

And she was gone and George felt more depressed than ever...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

It was already late, but Gracie knew the mall was open until ten and after that she could always hit the Super KMart and Walmart, both of which were open twenty four hours.

"I'm going to Spain!" she announced over and over, both to the people running the registers where she frenziedly spent at least a month's worth of George's hard-earned pay and to passing shoppers, most of whom smiled back with blank-eyed stares.

Beeping the horn as she pulled into the driveway, Gracie grabbed a bag and hurried into the house. "Wake up, George. There are a few packages in the trunk. Oh, and don't forget to check the back seat. I put a few things there as well.

Still excited by the prospect of her upcoming holiday, she didn't hear her husband groan as he pulled the sash of his robe tighter and headed out to do her bidding. By the time he'd made the fifth teary-eyed trip in with her purchases, Gracie was on the phone with her mother filling her in on all the details. At least the ones she knew. She was going to Spain!

 

[Tibxo]

George

George awoke to the smell of bacon sizzling. He slowly lifted his head and saw that Gracie was not in bed. He sighed a breath of relief, especially he was left unscathed thanks to the fact that Gracie was on the phone to her mother for most of the night.

It was as he was donning on his robe that he seemed to recall that she had invited her mother to come too?

He shook his head, hoping that was part was from a dream or, specifically, a nightmare.

"Hi, Darling." His wife called out cheerfully as he found his seat at the breakfast table. "Breakfast is almost up."

A few minutes later, Gracie appeared with a plate full of everything he liked in a breakfast but that was not what had caught his attention. His wife was already dressed!

"You are up early." He commented suspiciously, not yet touching the plate. "I thought you were going in to work today?"

"I'm not." His wife replied. "I am seeing my mother and we are going into the city shopping."

The city! He could already feel the debt growing ever deeper...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

The two women entered the house together, looking something like a "before and after" picture, their matching spandex leopard print outfits clinging to every curve of their bodies. Gracie, however, had foregone the wing-tip rhinestone glasses and was more than a little proud that her boobs weren't as saggy as Mother's, either (though she would never dare to say that out loud).

"Home so early?" George commented, glancing at his wrist watch and sighing. "It's only nine o'clock." They'd left long before he'd gone to work and even with travel time, that meant she had shopped for at least twelve hours. Anything he'd saved on this holiday bargan was quickly adding up in clothing purchases alone.

"Well," Gracie twittered "Mother was getting tired, so... "

"I was not tired, GraceAnn! I just didn't want to miss my program." Grabbing the remote from George's hand, she changed the channel and flopped down on the sofa to watch. "There are a few things in the car," she added during a commercial break. "You really ought to fetch them."

All dreams of watching the latest basketball playoff dashed, George did as his mother-in-law suggested. If there was anything worse than ignoring Gracie, it was ignoring her mother.

"Mother will be staying overnight," Gracie called from the kitchen where he could hear her setting up the coffee pot. "George?"

"Yes, dear. I heard you. That's nice."

Gracie smiled as she heard her husband let himself out the door. Mother slept like a log and didn't hear a thing once she took her hearing aid out. A good thing, as she planned to thank her husband "properly" when they went to bed. He was such a dear.

 

[Tibxo]

George

One month later...

"WAKEY!!! WAKEY!!!"

The sudden shout caused George to half leap/half fall out of bed, narrowing missing his bedside table.

"W-what what???" He spluttered as he looked up at his wife standing over him.

"What are you doing down there? It's time to get ready. We have to get going." And she was rushing into their bathroom.

Still in a state of shock, George forced himself to focus on his bedside clock. It read '3AM'.

3 AM???

In one of his rare outbursts, he cried out: "For Chrissakes, it's three o'clock in the morning!!!! We aren't meant to be at the port until six in the afternoon and it'll only take us three hours to get there!"

"The way you drive???" She shouted back in that recognisable tone which told him her mind has been made. "I'm not taking any chances. We are leaving as soon as we can!"

What could poor George do? Shrugging to himself, he slowly pulled himself up, rubbing his bruised backside and went downstairs to make a coffee...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

In the end they decided to get a ride to the pier. It just so happened that Gracie's mother was dating a guy with a limo company who was quite happy to provide them with transportation in exchange for a few favors, Gracie giggled as she told George, who merely rolled his eyes. His mother-in-law had been arrested twice last year for exposing herself in a moving vehicle. At least he wouldn't have to bail her out this time. A limo usually has tinted windows.

Gracie must have gotten the gist of what her husband was thinking -- or at least thought she had -- when she whispered something about joining the "Mile LOW" club on the way to the ship. "I won't have it, I tell you!" he responded just as they heard beeping coming from the front of the house. "Besides," he said, "You'll be too busy yakking with your mother."

Ignoring his comment, Gracie ran to the door and opened it wide. "We'll be right there! Hurry, George! Grab the luggage. I'll take this one."

Of course George thought his wife meant the ginormous piece that held enough clothes for ten people, but (as usual) he was wrong. Gracie, purse and small makeup bag in tow, was already out the door and running across the lawn. What was a man to do? Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, George did it. Staggering under the weight of the bags, he juggled each piece into position and followed his wife toward the... station wagon???

"Some limo," he grumbled.

"They were all out already. Besides, George, they're doing us a favor," Gracie twittered when she overheard.

Amazing thing about women, that. They pretend not to hear until you don't want them to, George thought to himself as he loaded the bags into the back.

"Oh, and George?"

He looked up, like a wounded rabbit to see what his wife wanted.

"You're going to have to sit back there with the luggage, dear. Carlos has brought his mother and two cousins along for the ride. There isn't any room for you up front."

At least the windows were tinted.

 

[Tibxo]

George

It was with a sigh of relief when the station wagon came to a halt. Not only did he have to put up with the cramped space in the back, crammed with luggage (mainly his wife's and mother-in-law's) as well as Carlos' assorted packages; there was also the fact that his mother-in-law's choice of perfume was enough to make even a skunk run for cover. The latter forced him to push himself out of the vehicle, where kneeling on the ground, he took in some much appreciated lungfuls of fresh air.

"Gracie-Ann!! ?? I think there's something wrong with your husband. He's got a funny colour." Shouted his mother-in-law in that voice that only mother-in-laws (in his mind anyway) have.

"George!!! Stop mucking around and unload the car. We don't want to miss the boat!"

Groaning, George looked over and saw that the 'boat' as Gracie called it was tied to the end of the pier where it should have been. Getting up, he made his way back to the station wagon, gearing himself up for the mammoth task of getting their luggage.

Ahead of him, he could see that Carlos had helped Gracie out (though he was still holding her hand) and was talking to her:

"You are sure lucky that you are going to Spain, Mrs Piffle. It is very nice country. But remember, when you come back, you will take look at my prize cucumber, yes?"

"Oh, Carlos. If it is as big as you say it is, I would love to sample - I mean see it." His wife gushed.

George shook his head sadly.

Does she know what 'cucumber' Carlos meant? He wondered.

Seeing that he wasn't getting any help, he started unloading his wife's and mother-in-law's luggage.

His mother-in-law's???

"Gracie? How come we got some of your mother's cases here???" He shouted out.

God! Please no....

 

[Maid of Marvels]

But Gracie was paying no mind, her eyes transfixed on the luxury ocean liner named the Queen Mary. In a few short minutes they would be aboard and on their way to Spain, she thought.

Nearly orgasmic with excitement, Gracie began to walk trancelike toward the ship. And then she began to run. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong! Flailing her arms, she begain to scream as tugboats slowly assisted her out of the harbor toward the open sea. It was leaving without them!!

"Wait! I'm here! Wait!" she cried, eliciting a return salvo of cheers and a seemingly choreographed wave from the passengers at the rail that would have put any group of spectators at a college football game to shame.

"Nooooooooooooo!!!" Gracie sobbed, falling to her knees in defeat. It couldn't be! It just couldn't... Through the watershed of tears, increasing in direct proportion with the gaining distance of the liner, she spotted something that had been hidden before now.

Gracie blinked. And blinked again. It was a boat. Much, much smaller than the first, it might have served as a lifeboat. And the color! Bright pink and almost the same hue as George's face when he got apoplectic. She moaned, unwilling to believe the reality of what she was seeing. It was covered with lumpy things that could only be barnacles -- well, at least in the spots that weren't covered with rusted bits.

Blinking again, but to no avail, Gracie gave that up in favor of a determined squint, now trying to discern its name without putting on her glasses. Between the tears and her myopia, she finally sussed it out. The name "Merry Quean" was clearly visible on its prow... Well, almost. The paint was peeling and the second "r" was almost completely gone, but the name was still...

"GEORGE PIFFLE!!! Get your ass over here! NOW!!!"

 

[Tibxo]

George

"GEORGE PIFFLE!!! Get your ass over here! NOW!!!"

Even if he hadn't just witness the ocean liner's departure, he would have known he was in trouble. His wife's tone told as much. Worst still, he was in a great deal of trouble!

But why?? The tickets had said that the Queen Mary was departing at 6pm!!

It was only half twelve.

"GEORGE!!!!"

That shout almost shook the pier and quickly he hastened to his wife's side. Without even looking at him, she extended her hand out.

"George! The tickets - NOW!!!"

Now trembling, he quickly (or as quickly as his shaking hands allowed him) fished out the tickets and placed them in her hand which was even more quickly snatched from him.

For long seconds, he waited as he watched Gracie look deeply at what she had in her hand, her body stiffening. The air around them strangely quiet.

Then there was an explosion.

"GGGGAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

For a moment, he didn't know whether to run and hide, or stay where he was. Especially as his wife's body was starting to shake.

Just as violently, she thrusted the tickets back at him. Shaking at him to take them. Meekly he took the tickets and read the large lettering printed on them:

Welcome to the Merry Quean...

Again everything went quiet as the realisation started to dawn on him, his eyes darting to the pink boat in front of them. All bar the voice behind him shouting:

"Have we missed the boat then???"...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

His reply was so typically George that Gracie was hard put to stay angry. He meant well. He always meant well. Queen Mary, Merry Quean... Anyone could have made the same mistake.

"GracieAnn!!" Uh oh... that could only be mom bearing down on them, followed by Carlos and his little familial entourage, twittering away in a language Gracie didn't understand.

"Don't say it, Mother! Don't!" she said, linking her arm through her husband's and spinning around to face them down like a lioness protecting her cub. "It was a mistake is all. Anyone could have made it."

Her mother, looking puzzled, put her hand on her hip and grinned. "Silly twit! I wasn't going to say a word. Not one word. But... You could have at least told me you were going on the Merry Quean. I've had my trip planned for ages. I just didn't mention it cause I thought you," she stared pointedly at George, "would have something snide to say like you always do."

"Erm... Mother, what in blue blazes are you talking about?"

"The Merry Quean, dear. Oh... you are just going to love it!"

"Love it??" Gracie looked at her incredulously. "Love it?"

It took a minute to sink in, but her mother finally caught on that this sort of cruise was not what Gracie had thought she was going to be doing for the next little while. Even so, like mother like daughter, she thought to herself. My little girl is gonna go wild... poor George. Poor, poor George.

"Carlos' Uncle Raoul runs this gig," she nodded reassuringly, as if that meant everything and giggled when Carlos pinched her ample derriere. "George!"

George, more confused than ever, looked at his mother-in-law. "Yes?"

"Get the luggage! We're going aboard!"

There was nothing more to do than obey. George Piffle knew when he was beaten... or about to be.

 

[Tibxo]

George

Staggering under the weight of the suitcases, George followed the two women up the gangplank leading to the pink boat.

"Why hi there, ladies and welcome to the Merry Quean." A deep voice sounded out in front of him. Feeling his strength sapping fast (thanks to the damn cases), he managed to get a glimpse of a bronzed adonis who was helping his wife aboard before the leaking sweat on his brow blinded him.

Doesn't she ever stop? He thought to himself as he heard Gracie's simpering laughs at the man's rather poor jokes.

"Good evening, sir. Let me help you with that." A man in naval uniform (albeit a pink one) easily took the heavy weights from George's heaving body.

"I will take these to your cabins. If you wish, you could go to the bar and have a complimentary drink. I daresay that is where Lieutenant Macho is taking your companions."

Thanking the young officer (why is he wearing pink and did he just wink at him?), George set in the direction that the man was pointing in...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

As Lieutenant Macho guided Gracie and her mother down the steep flight of steps into the saloon, he placed his hands firmly on the cheeks of their shapely derrières -- to keep them from losing their balance. Such a gentleman, she thought with a twitter. Maybe this wasn't going to be such a bad thing after all.

Several people had already gathered there and Gracie was pleased to note that they all seemed quite friendly... some even going from person to person to offer hugs and kisses. Why, even the men were...

"Gracie! Psst! Gracie!"

She turned to see her husband standing beside her and smiled. "It's going to be okay, George. I really think we're going to have a lot of fun."

"But, Gracie... " George continued sotto voce. "That... man... winked at me!"

"Yes, dear. They are a friendly lot," she replied, grabbing his arm and heading for the bar. "I'm absolutely parched! I think I'll have... "

Gracie stood stock still as she and her husband noticed the banner hanging on the wall behind the bar for the first time.

WELCOME
to
PAIN!!!​

"Pain?? PAIN?!?" she shrilled. "I thought you said... SPAIN??"

George could only manage a groan.

 

[Tibxo]

George

George was not a happy man. Not a happy man at all.

After speaking with him briefly, Gracie - his 'loyal, loving' wife had deserted him to spend time with that Lieutenant Macho. It wasn't so much that he wanted to talk to her exactly. It was more that he felt uncomfortable being on his own. Especially as the officer in the pink uniform and returned and kept winking at him everytime George glanced in his direction.

Even the mother-in-law was laughing her head off talking to a large black guy in a far corner.

Why should she be having fun and not me???

But the main thing that worried him was the banner on the wall:

"WELCOME to PAIN!!!"

What was that all about????

On seconds thoughts, he didn't want to know. Instead, he asked for another scotch and soda which he heartedly swallowed down. If any luck, he will be so inn..innib..oh so out of it that he won't remember a thing.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!"

George turned to see that the man in the pink uniform was now standing in the middle of the lounge calling everyone's attention.

"I know that you all have been just dying to meet him. Now at last, I have the very distinct pleasure to present you the Captain of the Merry Quean"

He held his hands out to the man who had just walked in and almost spluttered.

Standing in front of everyone in his prestine whiite Captain's uniform was no other than.....

RON ELY...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Gracie's mouth popped open as the Captain was introduced. Ron Ely! Ron Ely! The Ron Ely!?!? A quick glance at George, whose hands were frantically trying to hide something on his lap, told her that it was true.

Her heart sunk to her feet as realization struck home, kind of like walking headlong into a speeding semi. She was about to lose her husband. Oh, not in the way most women worried -- to some young, sexy, hot-blooded and very busty blonde. Gracie Piffle was about to lose her husband to... to... to an older man!

Rushing to George's side, she yanked his arm... which dislodged one of his hands... which revealed... a ginormous erection... that threatened to burst free of his chinos.

Normally, the sight alone would have girded her into action, immediately initiating "Plan Whatever*mumble*Number" on her insatiably, lascivious quest for the long-past but not forgotten George Piffle version of the neverending orgasm. But not this time.

"Georgie Porgie," she whispered seductively against his ear, desperate to draw his attention from the septuagenarian object of her husband's lustful affections. "How bout we go check out our... cabin. You know... find out if the mattress is firm enought?"

He barely noticed her, shrugging her hand off his arm like one would swat away a pesky gnat, as he continued to stare with a moony look on his face and a bit of spittle dribbling from the corner of his mouth at Captain Ely, dressed in a pristine white uniform that matched the blinding glare from his teeth.

"George!" Gracie shouted, drawing the attention of the other passengers and not caring.

"Go away, Gracie," he growled. "I'm trying to watch this."

Covering her mouth to stifle the shocked gasp of pain -- okay, it was a scream, dammit! -- Gracie raced headlong from the saloon in search of their cabin. There had to be a way to save their marriage. There had to be.

Running helter-skelter down yet another steep flight of stairs, Gracie found herself in the passage leading to the cabins. "Number five... number seven... number nine... number... " she chanted mantra-like as she looked at the numbers on every door, finally reaching theirs. "Thirteen!!"

The sight of their cabin as she entered, renewed Gracie's faith in mankind. Exactly twice the size of the narrow bed, it had a closet (full of naughty paraphernalia), a sink and a red velvet covered porthole near the ceiling. On the bedstand there was, such a lovely touch, she thought, a vase of fresh, plastic geraniums.

George would be hard put to resist her charms in this setting. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she gave it a good bounce before planning out her strategy.

 

[Tibxo]

George

George momentarily glanced irritably at his wife as she stormed off.

Why does she act like that? I was only trying to listen what Ron Ely has to say.

No doubt she was going to give him grief later on.

"Anyway, ladies and gentlemen." Ron Ely was saying. "The Merry Quean will be departing in five minutes. I hope that everyone here will have a wonderful time."

Everybody in the room (including George) applauded as Ron finished. The aging film star then left the lounge.

"Hiya, Big Boy. Have you got a ruler in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?" A gorgeous redhead came up to George, almost causing him to spill his drink.

"I beg your pardon?" He said politely.

The woman pointed down below. George glanced down and saw a huge projection in his pants. Quickly, he fished out his 10-inch ruler.

How did that get in there?

"Erm." He said, rather embarrassed. "Sorry about that. Must have slipped into my pocket by mistake."

The woman just smiled, making George's feet curdle.

"Don't worry about." She said dismissively. "Though I was hoping it was the 'real thing'."

George felt his collar get tight.

"Mmmmmm. On second thoughts..." He saw that the woman was still staring down at him before she looked.

"Oh I am being rude. My name is Ginger, as in the colour of my hair and you are?"

"G-George." He stuttered, suddenly feeling like a five-year old.

"Hi, George. Would you mind if I buy you a drink?"...

 

[Messalina]

Ginger

Ginger brushed George's hand, picking up his glass and taking a sip of the last dregs. "Mmmmy kind of man," she purred, waving over the bartender. "Another scotch and soda for the gentleman and I'll have... " she turned to him and winked, "Whatever he's offering."

Giddy from his drink, George blushed and giggled as Ginger's breasts grazed his arm, his eyes riveted on the immodest décolletage of her blouse that almost completely revealed her voluptuous mountains of flesh that were now dangerously close to his face. "Uhh... "

His mouth opened in awe giving the redhead the purrrrrrfect opportunity to fill his gaping maw, if only for a moment. The damage, however, was done. She twittered, pointing to the large, wet circle in the material around one of her jutting nipples. "You should have pulled it down like... "

George stayed her hand as Ginger started to lower her blouse. "Erm... not... here... " he gasped, trying to sound suave and debonair, downing his fresh drink in a single gulp.

"Where then?" she breathed, sliding onto the stool next to him, her skirt (well, if you can call the thin band of material glued to her hips a skirt) riding up to reveal a barely covered patch of heaven. "You... like?" Ginger whispered, as George Piffle's eyes made a bee line from boobs to beaver in a nanosecond flat. This time it wasn't a ruler in his pocket and he was very, very glad to see her.

 

[Tibxo]

George

George quickly gulped down the last of his glass as he felt the room temperature starting to escalate.

"You okay?" Ginger asked him. "You are starting to look peaky... Oh God! You are not going to go like the last guy I tried to fuck are you?"

Fuck???

George coughed up the last remnants of his scotch.

"Ewwww!" Exclaimed Ginger. "That's gross!"

George couldn't speak as he struggled to fight his coughing fit while trying to dry his chin. Not an easy task!

"There you are." A man's voice said behind him. Finally managing to control himself, George turned round to see Ron Ely standing next to him.

"Are you okay, sir?" Ron asked politely.

Again, George found he couldn't talk. This time for a different reason. However, finally: "Erm...yes...erm...thanks....drink went down wrong way."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I hope my daughter has been of help."

Daughter??? Where???

Ron went over to Ginger.

"Now, Jane. What have I told you about wearing your mother's clothes. And you know that she has specifically told you not to wear her favourite wig." With a sweep of his hand, Ron pulled the red hair off her head. "And look at all that make-up you are wearing. It will ruin that lovely skin."

"Sorry, Daddy." Said a young girl's voice.

George couldn't believe it. In an instant, Ginger - the attractive thirtysomething redhead had been replaced by Jane - a young looking spike-haired, spotty-faced 18-year-old.

"Now go to your room. I expect to you see you cleaned up in half an hour. Got it?"

"Yes, Daddy." The girl replied and quickly turned and exited the room.

Ron gave George a polite smile and said "If you will excuse me" and he was gone.

And George found himself alone, his mind lost in a sea of confusion as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

But not for very long.

"George Piffle! I saw that!"

The sound of that voice made him jump up, finding himself facing his dear, beloved mother-in-law.

"You should be ashamed of yourself." She said in obvious disgust.

"W-what?"

"My poor Gracie. You can't do your manly duty with her. Oh no!" She raved on in a voice that could shatter mountains. "But you can with a spotty little kid can't you. You dirty old man. Wait 'til I tell my baby."

And she was gone.

"Now I am in trouble." Thought George resignedly, trying to ignore all the staring faces...