The Philpott Kids: Sequel – 5 Years On

A chance encounter with an old friend sees Claire make up for lost time.

It was Sunday night and the local young neanderthals were propping up the bar at the Kings Arms. They were bored as, usual. They had nothing better to do than to ogle the young ladies, having a quiet drink at the corner table.

The ladies of the town’s netball team were used to being the centre of uninvited attention. It usually came when they went into a bar in their sports kit. Their short skirts and long, athletic legs seemed to make it inevitable

But tonight they were just “having a quick one” after an away match and were dressed modestly in their jeans and club sweatshirts.

Usually the oglers were interested in the prettier, more shapely girls, but tonight Leslie was attracting most attention.
A tall, tough, broad shouldered girl with an imposing physique who played Goal Shooter.
If she were a man you might say she was “built a brick shithouse” and the lady certainly had the construction you might associate with a “sturdy powder room.”
It was hard for her find feminine clothes in her size, so she often had to settle for more androgynous styles and flat shoes.
She liked to cut her hair short and chose not to wear much makeup.

Of course, in the tiny minds of the neanderthals, all these characteristics were proof positive of one thing.
She had to be gay!
So, all her friends had to be gay too!
They stood at the bar, making their “manly” jokes, giggling about the girls “playing games with eachother”, and “showering together”. All the usual unimaginative schoolboy crap.

One of the girls went to the bar.
What had started as just “a quick one” was becoming a bit of a session.
“Hey, Les” she shouted across the room, “did you want ice in your gin and tonic.”

The youths exploded in laughter.
“The rug-muncher’s called Les!” one of them roared.

“Oh, give us break guys. We’re just trying to have a quiet drink.”

“We’re not doing anything. Who are you anyway, her girlfriend?”

She walked away.

“Hey, don’t ignore me.
Can’t you deal with a real man, can you?
Bet you’ve never had one before, have you?”

“Just back off and leave us alone, will you?”

“Don’t tell me what to do, you lezza. Get your ass over here. It’s about time you let a man get a feel of those tits.”

He made a grab.
She pushed him away, spilling his pint.

“You bitch!”
He closed on her, only to be stopped by a fist. It was a big fist. A hard fist. A fist that broke his nose. It was Leslie’s fist.

Filled with fury, he shaped to take vengeance on both women.

“Fuck you you…”
This eloquent speech was abruptly curtailed as he was levelled by a rugby tackle, from a lad who really was built like a brick you know what.

The other neanderthals decided to join the fray but found themselves confronted by several more burly rugby players.
They didn’t stand a chance and were soon flattened, subdued or sprinting down the street to escape the melee.

Once the fuss was over, the tackler looked up from the prostrate fool beneath him, to check on the young lady who had bought the drinks.

“Are you okay, Claire?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks Frank. All good.”

————

The fight had only taken a few minutes, but the barmaid had already called the police. She asked Frank if he could detain the thug until they arrived. It wasn’t a difficult task.

Two bobbies soon arrived.
The older one took the lead while the other took statements and checked whether there was any damage to property.
In truth the only damage was one broken nose and it’s owner chose not to press charges. Especially once he understood that any press report, on the resulting court case, would tell the world that he had been bested by a woman.
He couldn’t have that! Not from any woman, let alone a lesbian!

“Is there anything else we can do for you landlord?” the policeman asked, as he was about to leave.

“Yeah. You can tell Rudolph there that ‘im and ‘is mates is all barred! If I ever see ’em in here again I’ll call you to have ’em removed, unless the girls ‘ere do it for me!”

The bobbies escorted him off the premises, to the sound of laughter, warning him to go straight home and not to bother the netball team or anybody else, unless he wanted to spend a night in the cells.

As the defeated red nosed clown trudged home, trying to staunch the blood qq, the younger policeman asked his colleague if he could pop back into the pub for a moment.

“Aye lad. Good thinking. Always worth using the lav – it can be a long shift.”

He stepped back inside and took off his helmet. “Hi Claire, I just wanted to check you’re really alright.”

“Bloody hell Glenn! I didn’t recognize you in uniform!”
She hugged him and kissed his cheek.
“Yes, I’m fine thanks. Leslie and Frank kept me safe.”

Frank spotted his old friend and came over for a manly handshake and a few words. Of course, Glenn was working and had to rush away, but be couldn’t leave without saying something to Claire.

“I can’t talk now, but could we er, get together sometime?”

“Yes I’d like that. Are you staying at your mum’s?”

“No, I’m in the station house.
Oh, shit, that’s awkward.
I’ll be in trouble if they find out I’ve given you my phone number while I’m on duty.”

“That’s no problem.
Give me your pen.”
She wrote her number on the back of his hand.

“Thanks, I’ll be in touch:
He left to resume his duties. His colleague noticed the number and chuckled, “Fast work son. I didn’t know you had it in ya.”

Meanwhile the netballers were keen to know more about the cute young officer.
Claire told them that he was an old friend and she’d “seen him first” so “hands off”
Her friends all agreed, so long as she introduced them to those hunky young rugby players…

————-
The netballers and rugby boys had a great evening flirting with one another, while Claire caught up with her old gang mate, Frank. It was quite late when she got home to her flat. She was anxious to check her phone for calls from Glenn.

She couldn’t check her calls until she got home because mobile phones were not in common use in the 1980’s. Some yuppies and posers has them but they were the size of a housebrick and even weighed even more.
So Claire checked the ansaphone connected to her landline.
There were no messages. She guessed Glenn must be on a nightshift and went to bed.
She checked again in the morning.
Nothing.
She couldn’t check again until she got in from work that evening.
She had two messages.
She listened to the first one.
“Er hi Claire. I hope I’ve got the right number. It’s Glenn here. Sorry I couldn’t talk last night. I had a late finish so I didn’t ring when I got home. In case you were sleeping. Anyway, it would be nice to get together for a chat. I’m working all week, but I’ll be free next Monday evening, if that works for you. So erm, take care, hope to hear from you soon.”

The second message was also from Glenn, telling Claire his phone number so she could actually call him back.

She rang the number only to be connected to his ansaphone.

(To a younger reader this must sound like a real hassle, but at the time it was the norm, in fact we hadn’t even had ansaphones for long, so this was the modern way to arrange a date – even if it did take ages).

Claire was a little unnerved by the ansaphone’s recorded message and hung up to compose her reply, then dialled again, “Hi Glenn, sorry to miss you. It’s Claire here. I’ll be free next Monday if you still want to go out. See you then. Don’t work too hard.”

Twenty four hours later she had another message. “Hi Claire it’s Glenn. Look forward to Monday. I thought we might go for a meal if that’s er okay. Do you like Chinese?” Claire told his ansaphone that was okay.

The pattern was repeated the next day. Glenn told Claire’s machine that the table was booked and asked if he could pick her up at 7.30pm on Monday. In return she told his machine that was fine and she’d meet him outside Woolworths.

Once again Claire returned from work a day later to hear Glenn confirm the details and he’d be in a white mini.

She knew he was referring to his car, but called back to leave a joke saying she would wear her red mini so they wouldn’t clash.

She didn’t get a reply, so she never knew whether he got her joke or not. Ansaphones had their limits, after all.

————
Monday finally arrived and Claire rummaged through a wardrobe trying to select an appropriate outfit.
But what was appropriate?
Was it a date?
She hoped it was, but Glenn hadn’t done anything to encourage that notion. He had just invited her to dinner for a chat. After all they hadn’t seen each other for years. He might already have a girlfriend, or, worse still, a wife – maybe even children!

What Claire needed was a combination of clothes that were appealing enough to tell Glenn that she ready to finish the night in bed with him (if that was what he wanted) but which didn’t make her look like a sad, desperate slapper, if he just wanted to be friends.

Eventually she made her choice. She wore white tank top that showed off the shape of her breasts nicely and allowed a glimpse of cleavage. It was something she could wear to the disco, but she paired it with a smart red office type jacket. It had fashionable padded shoulders and was a stylish match for the mini skirt that she had promised to wear. She completed the ensemble with a white shoulder bag, hanging to her waist and exaggerating her tall, slim figure.

Glenn pulled up outside Woolworths at 7.30 on the dot and welcomed Claire with a peck on the cheek as she manoeuvred herself onto the passenger seat of his small car.

“You look very nice.” he told her.

“Why thank you,” she replied, “I see you decided not to wear your mini skirt after all.”

He laughed, so she guessed he got the joke after all.

The restaurant was out of town. Glenn explained that he liked to get away from anyone who might recognise him from work. Claire told him that her, bookmaker, father took the same precautions. Glenn said he was “very wise.”

They arrived at the restaurant and were escorted to the table that Glenn had reserved. It was a candlelit table for two in a quiet corner. Claire was pleased to see that this was a date – not just a “catch up” with an old friend. She slipped off her smart business jacket and made sure Glenn got a good view of the way her top and skirt hugged her curves.
She had filled out nicely since he had last seen her.

Glenn had filled out too.
Broader and more muscular, he carried himself with greater confidence and authority.
Claire couldn’t help but notice his deep chest, firm arse and square jaw.
And he was still a gentleman.
He had spotted her alarm at the sight of chopsticks and, although she was sure he knew how to use them, he asked the waitress for two sets of cutlery.

He was everything she had hoped he would be.

They were both relaxed together and the years fell away as they updated eachother on their lives and their friends and reminisced about the old days.

The evening flew by.

As they enjoyed their desert they both giggled when Claire explained that her brother, Stephen was now engaged to Andrea Booth – the girl he had met when he pulled up her skirt in the school yard because he had made a bet about the colour of her knickers.

Naturally this led to a discussion about their own relationships. Glenn said that he’d noticed Claire wasn’t “wearing a ring” and asked if she had anyone “special” in her life.
She said she didn’t and asked him the same question, he confirmed that he too was single.
Claire took the initiative. Taking hold of his hand.

“You know, most of the guys in the gang thought we’d get together.” she confided. “Stephen thought we had… you know?”

“Yeah, we did date for a few months, after all and I almost made a move, but well…”

He paused, Claire stayed silent forcing him to explain.

“… you will still young and I was planning to move away to college and it didn’t seem fair to you…. and you were Steve’s sister after all.”

“I don’t think Stephen would have minded,” she said gently.

“Maybe not, but it all made sense to me back then. I wanted to be with you, but it didn’t seem right at the time…”

“What about now?” she smiled, licking her upper lip seductively. “Is this the right time?”

They kissed. Glenn paid the bill. They returned to his car, eager to seal the deal.

After some urgent snogging on the front seat the, Claire suggested that they would be more comfortable in her flat. Glenn drove them there as quickly as he could. Choosing such a distant restaurant, didn’t seem quite so “wise” now.

‐—————

“It’s nothing special,” Claire explained as they made their way up the stairs to her flat

“Don’t knock it, there aren’t many 19 year old girls with their own place.”

“Well, when dad put Stephen in charge of his new betting office, mum told him he ought to do something for me too. So here we are. I know it’s only a small place above a newsagents’, but it’s home.”

“I like it. It’s much better than my room at the station house.” Glenn explored the lounge while Claire popped into the loo.

He laughed, “Is this what I think it is?”

“What’s that?”

“This crate. Is it the one from the shed?”

“Yes,” she chuckled. “Tommy gave it to me. His dad was chucking it out. It’s kinda nostalgic isn’t it.”

“Yes, good memories.” Steve nodded knowingly.

“It’s pretty old, so I don’t think it would take my weight anymore, but I it’s quite smart now I’ve painted it black and it’s handy for storing all my videos.”

“Erm…. yes.
I’ve noticed those videos.
They’re not original copies are they?”

“Oh no, of course not, Stephen gets them cheap from one of his regulars….
Oh shit – I shouldn’t have told you that should I?
Not now you’re a policeman.”

“Well, as pirate videos they are contravening copyright. Whoever made them is breaking the law and so is Steve if he paid for them. And you are too, if you watch them.”
He thought, but not for long.
“It’s a good job I’m off duty.” He sighed.

“Oh, thank God for that.
For a minute I thought you were going to arrest me. I thought you’d have to search the flat for…. contraband!
I thought you’d have to search me… thoroughly.”

He took the hint.

“Well Miss, I ought to check that you don’t have any other illegal items in your possession.
If you could just stand up straight and put your arms out to your sides.”

Claire chuckled and gladly obeyed.
The young constable made a cursory check of her arms and an altogether more thorough search of her torso. Squeezing and feeling around her tits as she arched her back and stuck them out for his examination.

“Is everything okay, officer?” she asked.

“Yes, it seems to be. If you wouldn’t mind taking off your top please?”

“Ooooh, is that really necessary?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so, unless you would prefer to do it at the police station.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, “but promise not to peek.”

Glenn didn’t promise and he did peek. Claire looked gorgeous in a sheer, white bra that offered a tantalising view of her almost naked breasts. Almost naked, but not quite. Not yet…

“And the brasserie too Miss.” he instructed.

Sigh, “If I must.”

He nodded.

She complied, but quickly covered her chest with her forearms.

“Erm, no Miss. I don’t think so…”

He moved the arms aside, getting an unrestricted eyeful of her hard nippled charms and continuing with his search.

Claire had always loved to show off her body and baring herself for a man she had always loved, made her body tingle all over and moisten in one very special place.

“Well Miss, everything seems to be in order,” announced Glenn breathlessly. “However I do have to search you properly. Could you remove her skirt please.”

She unbuttoned, unzipped, wiggled and allowed it to fall to the floor, without question.

Glenn’s searching hands moved down, sliding over her scanty white panties to stroke and grasp her arse and then push between her legs to rub and caress her pussy.

Her knees weakened she dropped down into his cupped hand. She was very moist. Glenn was in no doubt what she wanted.

He could hardly say the words.
“If you wouldn’t mind taking off your underwear please Miss?”

“What?
Oh no!
Never!
You’ll have to catch me first!”

She turned and ran away giggling. Boobs bouncing freely as she made her way to her bedroom.
She scampered through the door and tumbled face first onto her bed, landing with her bottom stuck up into the air.

Glenn held her down even though she wasn’t struggling.
“It looks like I’ll have to remove these myself.” he told her.

“Oh no constable, please don’t do that.” Her words said “no” but her “giggle” said “yes”. Glenn listened to the giggle and stripped her of her final stitch of clothing.
He resumed his search, his hands roaming freely over her now naked buttocks, crotch, pussy, lips, clit and anything else that took his fancy.

Claire was loving his touch with every fibre of her body, but she wanted something else. Something she had wanted since she lost her virginity but had never dared ask for.

“Oh, am I in even more trouble for running away, constable? Isn’t that what they call, erm, resisting arrest?”

“It is. And when you put your arms across your chest you were also guilty of obstructing an officer in the course of his duty.”

“Are they very serious offences sir. Am I in lots of trouble. Will I have to be punished sir?”

Glenn had no idea where she was going, but everything had been great so far and he was happy to play along.

“Yes. You deserve to be punished very severely. I think I’ll have to take you to the police station after all.”

“Oh no. I don’t want that.
Couldn’t you deal with me here.”
She wiggled her arse.
“I’m sure you can think of something.”

Glenn needed to be sure that she wanted what he thought she wanted.
“Well I could apply some traditional discipline. Corporal punishment. You know what that means, don’t you?”
He clawed her right butt cheek greedily to make his intentions clear.

“Oh… you mean you’re going to smack my little bare bottom with your big hard policeman’s hand until it’s all red and stingy.”

“That’s right unless you want to go to the police station.”

“No it’s okay. I know I deserve it. How many spanks will I get.”

Of course, Glenn “the gentleman” hadn’t ever done anything like this before. He had no idea how many spanks he was going to give her.
“You will get as many as it takes to teach you a lesson.” he told her.

“Oh my God I’m sorr… ouch.”

Glenn delivered the first slaps. They were tentative and experimental as he struggled to to find the right rhythm and force.

“Well that’s not going to teach me a lesson is it, constable? We’ll be here all night.”

He got the message but styled it out, “I’m just warming you up Miss.”

He spanked harder. Leaving red blotches on her bare flesh. Pausing to grope her ass and slide his hand between her legs to her most precious place.

Claire had fantasised about being spanked for years and the reality didn’t disappoint.
Glenn was surprised to find that he was enjoying it too. Freed from his role as “gentleman” he had a beautiful, naked vulnerable woman at his mercy. She had given him license to do as wished, smacking her butt as hard and as often as he liked. She was trusting him to use his manly power to drive her to stinging, primeval pleasures, but without going too far.

They were both loving the hand on arse fun but it was time to move on to cock in cunt pleasures.

“Are you going to use your truncheon on me constable? I bet it’s big and hard and thick isn’t it?”

“It is now Miss. Do you think you deserve it?”

“Oh yes sir. It is what naughty girls get after all.”

They were both ready.
She was bent over, legs spread and pussy gaping. Glenn pushed forward and slid into her, doggy style.
His “truncheon” was as thick as Claire had hoped it would be but it slipped smoothly inside her tight slick cunt
They instinctively synchronised their movements, pleasuring each other, pistoning patiently, intimately taking one another to their shared ecstasy.

They came together.
Claire was already feeling full, when her sex muscles claimed Glenn’s throbbing cock as their own, draining it of all he had to give. His cum filled her as deeply as a man can fill any woman while her juices flooded her twat.

It had taken 11 years for the two of them consummate their love, so one fuck was never going to be enough. They enjoyed eachother’s bodies in as many ways as they could before they were overtaken by exhaustion.

“Was that all okay.” asked Glenn.

“What do mean? Of course it was. It was very okay! Couldn’t you tell?”

“I don’t mean the sex. I mean the… you know… I’ve never done that before.”

“Erm, you mean the spanking? It certainly seemed like you liked it.” She squeezed his cock.

“Yeah, I hope I wasn’t too…. mean. I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of a brute.”

She kissed him. “I’ve never thought that. I wouldn’t have asked you to spank me if didn’t know I could trust you.
The first boy I ever slept with did it and I liked it, but I’ve never let anyone else do it except you. I knew you’d keep me safe.”

“Okay.”

“It was really hot by the way. Could you bring your handcuffs next time?”

‐——————

That night with Glenn wasn’t Claire’s first shag and, to be honest, it wasn’t her best shag, but it was the first time she had made love to a man that she truly loved.

Well, apart from her brother…..

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