Date: Sat, 8 Jan 2011 10:14:18 -0000
From: Nick <nakednick2@btinternet.com>
Subject: Keeping it in Family - Chapter 30

WARNING:  The following true story – only the names of the participants have
been changed – contains descriptions of gay, bisexual and incestuous
activity between adult relatives and others, activities which may be illegal
in some jurisdictions or cause offence against some religious beliefs.
Please do not read any further if you are likely to be offended by its
content or if it might be illegal in your country!  By the way, the story is
written with the full knowledge and approval of all the living persons
having significant mention therein.

* * * *

Sid had been close to tears as he shook our hands warmly and struggled to
find the words to thank us for our sympathetic listening to and
understanding of his problems.  Half an hour later, as we each sipped our
second round of Calvados, courtesy of Derek's expense form; he had become
much more relaxed and was quite looking forward to dinner together and the
rest of the weekend.

"It's nearly half past six, cocktails with J-P in an hour, dinner at eight.
Time to get dressed up," Derek said.  We downed the last drops of our apple
brandy and feeling decidedly tipsy, at least in my case, we made our way to
our second floor suites.

"I'm glad you can't breathalyse me for driving a lift," I said to Derek.

"If I did, I'm not sure I could read the output after two French-sized slugs
of Calvados!"

After fumbling with the key card for the suite, I was surprised to find
Sarah in a hotel dressing gown talking to Pat in our resplendent lounge,
with empty coffee cups on the side table.  Pat, who was still in her day
clothes, looked a little uncomfortable.  "Where have you been?"  Sarah
asked.

The bar, the pool, the sauna and the team room, not necessarily in that
order," I replied.  "Looks like you two have been having a little chin-wag."

"Yes, something like that," Sarah replied, somewhat non-committally, "I take
it that you've all been in the bar, on expenses."

"Where is Sid, Nick?"

"He's just gone to your suite, we've all been having a bit of natter in the
bar."

"I'd better go, then.  It's time to get dressed anyway."  I let her out and
then turned to Sarah, "What's the problem?"

"She's worried about Sid tomorrow.  They are both a bit ... , you know. "

"Sid told us about it; it's a long story, better left until later.  She
didn't ..., umm?"

"No, nothing like that...., but you can!"

"I'm not sure we have the time."  Sarah had thrown the dressing gown over
the settee and was standing in front of it, dressed only in a skimpy bra and
panties set, leaving little to the imagination.  I stripped to my CKs and we
embraced, my prick was pressing into her belly, separated only by the thin
fabric of our underwear.  We kissed passionately, and wriggled and writhed
together for several minutes, until Sarah pushed me away and said "That's
for later, we've got to get dressed for dinner, it's 7.15 already."

As we moved apart, Sarah spotted my knob as it emerged from the waistband of
my underwear; she stooped and kissed it, then pulled my CKs down, giving
Percy his freedom.  "No brewer's droop there," she said, giving my glans a
flick with her finger and thumb, then slapping my bare bum with the other
hand.

Sarah put on a rather fetching, low cut, green patterned dress I rather
liked but which she hadn't worn for a while.  She debated for a while about
which necklace to wear, then chose a silver pendant I had bought her as a
wedding present.  She had obviously spent a long time on her hair while we
were drinking in the bar and looked magnificent, her dress set off by
matching a handbag and shoes.  I wore a traditional English blazer in a dark
blue, with a white shirt, my university tie, light grey slacks and black
shoes.  We looked good and felt good as we made our way to the private
dining room.

Roger and Clare were at the bar and offered us drinks; we both had the house
white wine, which I recognised as a Vouvray from the Loire Valley.  "I
gather that Sid bared his all with you guys this afternoon," Roger said,
after allowing us time to sample our drinks.

"Yes, in the sauna and in more ways that one.  Pat talked to Sarah as well.
We haven't actually discussed it, there wasn't time."

"He came to see me; I gather Derek suggested that."

"He did and I seconded it.  He seemed relieved to have been able to raise
the issue, albeit with relative strangers."

"So was Pat," Sarah interjected.

"That is quite typical actually, I'd like to have a chat with you about them
but there is not time now.  Breakfast is supposed to be at nine in the
morning, can you both meet Clare and I for breakfast at eight?  I am seeing
them while the rest of you have your `once-overs' at the clinic.  Sid will
go last after me if he decides to stick with it.  We'll try to get Pat to
the perfume factory, even if it is a bit late.

"We're OK for eight," I said, getting a nod from Sarah.

"Good, here's the others coming now; I am glad Sid and Pat are there.  J-P
will be late; he always is, even for a Frenchman.  His French colleagues
shrug their shoulders and say that he works on GMT; the Brits just get
irritated with him!"

I recommended the Vouvray to the others; ten large glasses made a big hole
in four bottles, not far short of a hundred Euro, I guessed.  That's why
drugs are so expensive!  J-P, Antoine and their wives Pascale and Valery
arrived on the stroke of eight.  All four hosts for the evening kissed all
twelve of their guests on both cheeks in the French fashion, a process which
took a considerable time.  Who knows if anyone missed anyone; but I would
bet that nobody remembered all our names!

It was nearly 8.30pm and the maitre d' had been hovering for quite some time
before J-P suggested we should go to our table, where we found beautifully
inscribed place names.  A lot of thought had gone into the seating
arrangements around the huge square table with four chairs on each side.
The French couples were either side of two diagonal corners, Roger and Clare
on the third and Sarah and I on the fourth, with the other four couples
facing their partners, alternately seated men and women all the way round
and distributing the linguists evenly!

J-P made a speech welcoming us all and thanking Roger for making the
arrangements.  He hoped that we would not find our experiences too traumatic
and if there was any way at all in which the company could help, just ask!
He then introduced a six-course menu; each course would have several choices
and `not be too big' but typical of a different region in France, served
with regional wines.  The menu was in English and French; Antoine's wife was
a master chef and she would be pleased to explain anything that we not
clear.

Neither Sarah nor I can remember what we ate, but everything was absolutely
delicious and the wine superb.  The portions were just right so that when we
retired to the lounge about 11pm for coffee and brandy we felt `well fed but
not stuffed' to use Sarah's terminology!  I was happy to accept Roger's
invitation to thank our hosts at the end of the evening.  My confidence
boosted by the wine, I decided to do so in French.  This went down very well
except that there was laughter from the hosts and the barman when I referred
to J-P, adding his surname, `Taton'.  Sarah told me later that `j'ai pete'
means `I have farted'!

We all retired to our suites, well fed and watered.  Our bed had been turned
down, a custom that had practically disappeared in British hotels.  Then I
remembered that after my wanking session in the afternoon we had left the
bed in disarray and asked Sarah about it.  "The chambermaid must have
changed the sheets and remade the bed", she said. "It was tidy when I came
back from the spa."

"Ooops!  A new rumour, the English have sex in the afternoon!"  I said.

We undressed and made for the bathroom to do what we had to do.  I was
bursting for a pee and stood in front of the toilet.  "That's the first time
I've ever seen you pee in the pot.  You've done it often enough in a
hedgerow, but that is a first!"  When I had finished, she lowered the seat
and emptied her own bladder.

"That's the second time this week you've peed in front of me!"  She got up
and our bodies met from head to toe, our arms went around each other and we
kissed passionately.

"I suspect that I detect brewer's droop," Sarah whispered, her hand between
my legs.

"Juste un peu, peut-être.  Rien que vous ne pouvez pas réparer."

Before returning to the bedroom, I took a long drink of water to hopefully
counteract the effects of the alcohol I had consumed, much more than I was
accustomed to, but there again, I wasn't going to be driving for a couple of
days yet!

"It's been a long day, I am tired, how about just a cuddle tonight and see
what the morning brings?"

"OK, but remember our breakfast meeting."

All I remember is the moment we hit the super bed from either side, we
rolled together, kissed again and clasped each other's naked body tightly.
I awoke about 6.45, in much the same position, except that my morning woodie
was clasped tightly between Sarah's legs and I was bursting for a pee.  I
gently extracted my prick trying not to disturb her and made for the
bathroom.  There was no way I could use the toilet so there was no
alternative but to step into the shower, where I still had the problem that
an erect penis won't pee.  It must have been five minutes before I could get
myself anything like comfortable and only then that I noticed Sarah
standing, wearing only a grin, watching me.

"Women don't have that problem," she said, as she sat on the toilet.  I
turned on the shower an when she had finished, Sarah joined me in the
cubicle, where we enjoyed a long, long shower and some playful exploration
of each other's bodies before getting dried and dressed, more casually this
morning.  Having shaved before dinner, I hoped to get away with not doing so
again.

Roger and Clare came out of their suite as we were passing; we went down to
the early breakfast together.  Roger and Clare had heard Sid's report on
their situation and quickly checked that what he had told the rest of us
tallied.  I filled him in with the bit about the pool attendant and Sid's
reaction.  Roger said that was understandable.  I also mentioned that he
said he was scared of being examined by a woman.  "That's not unusual,"
Roger said, "women don't usually seem to have the same fear of male doctors,
though we do usually provide a chaperone.  Anyway, Antoine will be doing the
intimate examinations this morning, probably with me there as well.  To be
honest, I am not looking forward to mine!"

"Do you want a chaperone?"  I asked, jokingly.

"Not unless you want to put your fingers up my bum!  I must remember to have
a crap first though."  I hadn't thought of that, though my regular habits
would probably take care of the situation.  "I must mention that to the
others before they leave.  Now then Sarah, what did Pat tell you?"

"Firstly, that she was not very interested in sex with a man, but had made
out with women from time to time.  She does want to have natural children
and that is why she married Sid.  He is not very good at the mechanics so
she likes to get the `messy business', her words, over and done with as
quickly as possible.  Secondly, she hates him fondling her breast, kissing
them or anything like that and any foreplay down below is a no-no so far as
she is concerned.  I don't know about you, Clare, but I love Nick getting me
well lube-ed up."  Clare nodded but did not respond.

"So Pat relies on getting herself ready, giving Sid's prick a few quick
rubs, stuffing it in, him dumping his spunk as quickly as possible and
getting off her.  She kept emphasising that she does want kids the natural
way and is happy for Sid to be their Dad."

"Did she say how often they have sex?"

"Strictly to the timetable she has worked out as her fertility cycle,
nothing more however Sid tries.  They've been trying for two years now.
Oh, and she won't do anything away from home, on holiday or anywhere.  It
might soil the sheets or somebody might hear them."

"Well, with a DIY calendar, I am not really surprised it doesn't work, even
if there is nothing else wrong," Clare said.  "Does either of you know if
Sid has had sex with anyone else, male or female, before or after Pat.  I
must say he doesn't sound too bothered and is probably ac/dc anyway."

"He never mentioned it to me," I said.

"Or me," Sarah added.

"Okay, that's fine.  I hope all that hasn't put you off your breakfast.  I
am going to keep him on the programme if he wants to stay and then refer
them to a specialist counsellor.  Obviously they will both have to sign up
to that and I suspect they will need both joint and individual therapy.  All
this is confidential of course but if either of them wants to talk, then it
would be good if you would listen.  If there is anything that frightens you
let me know – in confidence, of course."

"That sounds good to me," I said.  Sarah nodded her approval.

"Now, let's get our breakfast!"  The four of us were still enjoying our
breakfast when the others arrived in the smart dining room.  Although the
concept of `Continental Breakfast' has greatly improved over the years, our
hotel excelled itself with a breakfast buffet that would do credit to any of
its British counterparts.  Almost everyone said that they would need no
lunch.  Nevertheless, I was sure they would have some!

Just before ten we assembled in the reception area, Roger reminded us that
the men would be dropped off at the clinic and the women taken to the
perfume factory by Guillaume.  Pascale and Valery would meet them there.
The men would take ten or fifteen minutes to fill in a questionnaire before
their examinations.  He suggested that the women close their ears for a
moment and told the men that it would a good idea for them to `take a dump'
before their examination, which would be conducted by Antoine and Thierry
and take about twenty minutes.

Guillaume dropped the men plus Pat at the clinic; Roger remarked that Pat
would catch up with the other women later.  We were welcomed by J-P and
Antoine, both wearing smart suits even though it was Saturday morning.  They
introduced us to Thierry who looked much more the part, dressed in white
coat and wearing a stethoscope.  He took the six of us into a small lecture
room where the questionnaires and pens had been laid out on desks.  Thierry
explained that this was a private Urological Clinic but it was associated
with the drug company and conducted medical examinations on their behalf.
All results would be sent to them but we could have a copy if we wished.
Roger suggested we should ask for copies by ticking the appropriate box on
the form.

"Right, if there are no questions, please fill in your forms," Thierry said.
"Any problems, just ask me."

The form addressed our sexual history from `At what age did you first
masturbate?' onwards, through `At what age did you first have sexual
intercourse?' to `Have you fathered any children, if so, how many, and
when?' with lots of other detailed questions in between!  I struggled a bit
with the `How many partners?'  – one or two?  – and `How many children?'
questions, but decided to answer `one' in both cases.   I couldn't think of
`Any other information you think we should know'.

When we had finished, Thierry looked at his notes and said "I will see Nick,
and Derek first, then John and Ian, finally Roger and Sid.  I hope you don't
mind being seen in pairs, Antoine will be assisting me and it is quicker
that way.  The curtain dividing the room is not soundproof, but we are all
grown men!  Any questions?"

Derek congratulated Thierry on his excellent English and asked where he
learned it.  "In bed," he joked, "my wife is English.  I did my
post-graduate work in Coventry; not too far from where you all live, I
think.  If there is nothing else, I will take you to the changing room.
There is a toilet there; please use it if you need to.  Also the gowns to
change into, remove all your own clothes.  There is coffee if you want it."

Roger said "Sid, Pat and I will be with J-P in his office for a little
while.  We'll catch up with you later."  Being as discreet as possible, he
gave no further information.  I noticed that the mini-bus was back and
Guillaume waiting outside.

The well-appointed changing room befitted an expensive clinic, with smart
wooden lockers, toilet and washing facilities, and a separate waiting lounge
with easy chairs, newspapers and glossy magazines, some specifically male
orientated, albeit in French.  When we were changed, Thierry came in, "Nick?
You are first, I will see you, hand you over to Antoine and then come for
Derek."

Thierry checked a few details from the notes Roger had sent him and looked
at my questionnaire responses

"A virgin until your wedding day, and your wife also?  That is most unusual
these days but very commendable.  Joan and me were the same, good
Catholics!"

"We broke our duck that night at the Birmingham Airport Novotel, room 213;
made a bit of a mess of the sheets!"

Thierry laughed, "They have seen worse!  You are expecting your first baby,
good!  Intercourse two or three times a week, has that changed since you
wife was pregnant."

"Possibly increased a little."

"Quite usual, make the most of it, after six months it may not be so easy!"

"Do you ever fail to ejaculate?"

"No, never; I suppose that will change if we wake the baby!"

"Our son always used to wake as soon as we started to play.  I was glad when
we moved him to his own room.  He will be two next week, we are thinking
about another baby soon."

He looked at his notes again, "Both your semen samples were very good, an
exceptionally high sperm count, propensity towards boys, though.  Male sperm
tend to be less resilient than female so that doesn't really mean a lot.
All the other vital components of your spunk are high too, that's good.  "

 You have a sister and brother; do they have children?"

Mmm, difficult, I thought!  "My sister has a son and expecting another, my
brother is also expecting his first."

"Was he trying for very long?"

I thought about my high sperm count and Rob's virtually non-existent little
wrigglers and lamented the unbalance.  "I had no option but a small white
lie, "Not too long, I think.

"Sometimes when one brother has a high count others are low, we used to
think there was some connection.  Many believe that some of our French kings
were sired by their supposed uncles; we used to have a law allowing the
succession."  This was getting a bit close to the mark; I was glad to move
on!

"Anyway, I'll just check your blood pressure and heart rate; then we are
done.  We use electronics these days, no more mercury," he said as he put
the cuff on my arm pulled a fist sized device towards him.

"Good, almost the same as Roger's note. Roger has sent your blood results so
we don't need any sample today.  Lie on the couch please; pull the gown up
to your waist.  I am going to look at your penis, or do you prefer cock or
pecker, first."

"Okay, it gets called all kinds of things!"

"Yes, I know, I was fascinated by all the names for body parts I learned in
Coventry.  I could almost make a dictionary; it is the same in France."

"Ah, not circumcised, ample foreskin, any problems as a youth, not too
tight?"

"No."  He lifted my flaccid cock and examined it externally, then pulled
back the foreskin and looked carefully at the exposed glans.

"No problems with the knob, the English name I think, just hold your cock
out of the way while I look at your balls, boules en Francais, also knackers
in English.  Left one lower, like ninety percent of men, slightly bigger, no
lumps, cord okay, sperm sac here, fine; the prostate produces most of the
ejaculate, how do you say, spunk?"

"Yes, spunk or cum; you certainly know the vernacular!" I said.

"You know, you would make a good candidate as a sperm donor.  In England you
have to be registered, in France it is anonymous but we still can't get
enough."

"That's why you need all these samples!"  I joked.

"No, no, no, we cannot use those!  Doctors are not allowed either to donate,
so I cannot make some more money.  Now the right testicle, same word in
French; no lumps, good sperm sac, cord okay.  Now one more check, he felt my
groin area carefully, maybe just an incipient hernia here, any pain or lumps
go to see your doctor as soon as you can, otherwise fine.  You would be a
good donor, about three days without sex every three months or so, come
here, have a wank, enjoy the weekend, collect the cash, go home.  We do the
rest.  Stand up, please."

I did and let the gown drop.  "No, no, keep the gown up."

My cock had stiffened noticeably during the process and, whilst not erect,
it was hanging well clear of my balls.  Antoine came in just as Thierry
cupped my balls in his hand and rolled them together for a few moments.

"No problems at all there, an excellent set of kit in full working order;
your cock has gone a little bit stiff, I see, don't worry if you get a
full-scale hard-on when Antoine plays with your prostate."

"Thierry is practising his English, I hear."

"He needs no practice," I said."

Thierry laughed, "Neither does Antoine, he also has an English wife."

"Welsh," Antoine corrected.

"I am Welsh too, from near Abergavenny originally but living near Birmingham
now," I said, "but last night I thought your wife was French."

"She used to teach French in Ceredigion when I was at Aberystwyth
University, now she teaches English but won't use it unless she has to, and
now she has a French accent!  When we went to Breton, Brittany, she spoke
Welsh and many people could understand what she said."

"I don't speak Welsh," I said.  By now, Thierry had brought Derek in to the
consulting room.

"This way, Nick," Antoine said, "Lie on your left side on the couch, I am
going to examine your prostate, first with the finger, then may be with the
small telescope.  It may be a bit uncomfortable and you may need this."  He
handed me a tissue, "Sometimes there is a leakage of semen, especially if
you have not had sex for a while."  I could hear Thierry's conversation with
Derek, doubtless Derek could hear ours.

I heard the latex gloves being put on, then felt the prodding at my ass,
suddenly a finger popped in, a strange but not unpleasant feeling.  Then I
felt what I assumed to be my prostate being massaged.  It is a vital organ
of the male body that most men don't know much about, either its function or
whereabouts; I made a mental note to do a bit of research when we got home.
The finger was withdrawn; then two fingers entered, slightly painfully, and
the massage continued.  I felt my prick rising and then there was a slight
oozing from the end.  "That's the lubrication," Antoine said, "when you have
intercourse some comes out first, that is the slight stinging you sometimes
feel, the rest mixes with the seminal fluid from the testicles to form the
ejaculate.  I am going to use my telescope now.  It may feel a bit cold; you
will see a picture on the screen there."

I had never had any real desire to see inside my ass, but I was pleased I
had had a good shit earlier that morning!  "Nice and clean there, "Antoine
said, "more important, no polyps, there you can see the bulge of your
prostate against the rectum.  All is absolutely normal.  Roger asked me to
take some internal pictures, you don't mind?"  He wiped the jelly off my ass
and I got off the couch.

"Not at all, but I won't be hanging them on the office wall!"

"It will just be a moment."  I heard a computer printer running somewhere
nearby.  "I am making some copies for you.  Roger also wants some pictures
of typical pricks and balls for his paper, is that OK with you?  It will
only be below the waist."

"No problem, nobody will recognise me from that."

"Remember we all saw you in the sauna yesterday," Derek called out from the
other side of the curtain, "I've heard there's no two alike, just like
finger prints."

"He is a policeman," I said to Antoine.  "Identification by dicks, now
there's an entirely new field for study.  You could make yourself famous,
Derek!"

"You can go back to the lounge for a few minutes.  Keep the gown on, the
photographer will be here soon."

"It's a woman, a sexy looking blonde," Derek called out.

Antoine did not see the joke, "Pierre is a happily married man, about your
age.  He has worked with us for several years, usually photographing surgery
or sometimes damaged genitals."

"Come on through, Derek," Antoine said.

As I left the examination room, I met Thierry returning with a rather
anxious looking John, "Nothing to worry about, I've still got my tackle," I
said, clutching it through the thin hospital gown.  John managed a faint
smile.  Ian was still waiting, also looking a bit worried, and anxious to
know what was going on.  "It's all still there," I said, briefly lifting the
gown to show him.  "It was nothing dramatic, much the same sort of
examination as Roger has already given you, plus a few questions."

"I got an erection last time, not a serious hard on but a definite woodie,
most embarrassing."

"They've seen it all before, big ones, small ones, hard ones, soft ones, you
name it."

"I got the impression in the sauna yesterday that yours might be quite big.
Mine makes about six inches on a good day."

"Mine's about seven.  Apparently Roger wants some photographs of men's
tackle for his paper; he's chosen mine as typical.  This is why I have to
keep this gown on until the photographer comes."

"I'm glad it's not me, I might be the one coming!"

With that, Roger and Sid came in and I noticed the minibus leaving,
presumably with Pat.  "Time to get changed, Sid.  The last locker looks
spare."  Roger stripped to his socks to reveal a dick that looked much
smaller than mine.  I noticed Ian looking too.  "That's all I've got, chaps,
but it works fine so don't get worried.  I can just about stretch to five
inches on a good day," he said as he put his gown on.  The French ones were
different from the English `tie-behind-your-back' style; they were conical
with three holes, for a head and two arms.

Sid was more discreet about changing but in the sauna he had seemed to be
well-enough endowed.  I was just wondering how the `interview' had gone when
J-P put his head round the door and asked Roger if he could spare a minute.
There was a brief conversation in the corridor and Roger came in and said
"That's all fixed for next week."

Thierry called Ian, just as a man of slightly Arab appearance came in.
"Nick, I am Pierre, you can come with me."  I followed him to a room across
the corridor.  "Many mens are getting embarrassed with the camera, but you
should not `ave to worry.  I will only picture you below the ceinture –
belt, no face.  I `ave seen many cocks, big ones, little ones, all kinds, so
do not be worrying."

"No problem, pas de problem," I said.

"Take of the dress.  Stand on the platform.  Face the camera.  Put your feet
apart twenty-five centimetres, shoulders back, arms beside you."  I was
standing on a platform about a foot high.  Pierre adjusted his camera.

Percy felt remarkably composed.  "Just arrange the boules a little."  I gave
them a little jiggle and my dick nestled comfortably between them, the left
one a little lower.

"C'est bien.  I will be taking many pictures when the platform rotates.  Are
you ready?"

"I am."  Pierre flicked a switch and the platform began to turn.  When it
stopped I was again facing the camera.

"You can step down, now.  I `ave to take a view from your behind.  Turn your
back to me.  Put your feet apart as far as you can, bend forward a little.
He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed them down a little more.
"That's fine, the legs a little bit more together. Good!"

He took the camera from its tripod, squatted on the floor and pointed it
upwards towards my ass.  "It is fine, now just one very close-up front."

I could feel his breath on my groin but fortunately he did not linger; Percy
did not have time to react.  "Finis!"  You `ave some very beautiful  tools,
my dick is spoiled by circumcision, not a nice job like Doctor Thierry does,
but a back-street, old-woman job in Algiers.  My boys will not be mutilated
like that.  "Most boys in England are not circumcised, usually only when
they have a problem."

"I know, I know.  But later I have to take pictures of Mister Ian, his dick
is cut.  You can put on the dress now and then change to your clothes."

As I opened the changing room door, Roger and Sid suddenly broke off their
conversation.  "Come in, Nick," Roger said.  Sid has told me about his
conversation with you yesterday and I have told him about our discussion
this morning.

"Nick, I really want to thank you for opening a door for me.  Roger is
arranging for Pat and I to get the help we need.  He is two hundred percent
confident he can help.  When our baby is born next year, we shall call him
Nicholas or Nicola if it is a girl."

"Sid, that really is great news, but it was really only a chance encounter
we had.  I do hope that everything turns out well and do keep in touch.  I
am going to give you my phone number as soon as I get dressed."  With that,
I took off the gown, stood naked for a second or two and began dressing.

"Has Pierre taken the photos, Nick?"

"Yes, including one `from my behind' and another after I had `arranged my
boules'."

"His English is much better than it was, but still with room for
improvement!"  Sid was looking worried.

"I don't have to ..."

"No, not at all, Sid.  Nick's kit is almost perfect text-book style and
asked if he would mind me using his picture to illustrate my paper.  You've
no need to worry."

"Last but one; your turn, Sid," Thierry called from the doorway.  Derek had
gone to the perfume factory with Pat, John soon came out of the examination
room and got dressed, Ian was not far behind and Roger took his place.
John, Ian and I chatted in the lounge until Sid returned.  He was the cat
that got the cream, "That was absolutely great," he said, "this trip is the
best thing I have ever done!  Pat and I are going to have kids, if only I
had known before how easy it was to get our problems sorted out."

"We are all so pleased for you, Sid, and as I said, keep in touch, here's my
home and mobile phone numbers, as promised."

Eventually Roger emerged, followed by Thierry and Antoine.  "That's all done
then, thanks chaps.  Antoine, Thierry please bring your wives to dinner with
us tonight.  J-P chose the place but he cannot come."

"Thank you," Thierry said, "we shall enjoy that."

"Valery and I will come also, thank you.  I expect it is the fish restaurant
by the jetty, J-P's favourite!"

"That's the one, sixteen for dinner, seven o'clock, sharp."

Roger took off his gown and then called Guillaume to pick us up before
bothering to dress.  Much to the amusement of Sid, who was in an altogether
better frame of mind, his dick was bobbing up and down as he walked about
while speaking into his mobile phone.

Roger had barely finished dressing when Guillaume arrived.  We all said our
goodbyes to J-P, Antoine and Thierry and rejoined our wives on the bus for
the short journey to the auberge for lunch.  I noticed that the women all
had `goodie-bags' from the perfumery and some, including Sarah, had an
additional bag from the inevitable gift shop.

The women were anxious to hear about our morning at the clinic, their
questions punctuated by occasional laughter.  Even Pat was joining in!
After a few minutes, Sarah reached across, "I'm glad it is still there," she
said, giving Percy a good squeeze.  Roger must have overheard, "Don't worry,
Sarah, that's a prize specimen you've got there.  I've got the photographs
to prove it!"  With that, he produced a full frontal view of my genitalia,
thankfully inert, much to my embarrassment and to the amusement of the
others.

"I said I was off duty, I wouldn't dare do that in the surgery!"  Derek
snatched the photo from him and passed it round the bus.  My embarrassment
grew as the comments and laughter grew; even Guillaume took a peep, "Ah, mon
Dieu, c'est tres bon!  Plus des enfants pour monsieur Nick!"

The journey to the auberge took only a few minutes;  the meal was described
as a `Farmer's Lunch" and which consisted of a huge buffet of assorted
breads, cheeses, cold meats and fruit, a kind of `Ploughman's Lunch', on a
grand scale, together with pitchers of artisan beer and cider.  We had a
marvellous, made all the more enjoyable when Roger invited half a dozen
local barflies to help us finish it.

Well, fed and watered, we were thirty minutes late arriving for the guided
tour of the chateau, the private home of a member of a well-known French
banking family, but in true Gallic tradition, 'vous êtes ici maintenant, le
temps n'est pas important'.  There was a short introduction from the owner,
before he took us on a tour which lasted about two hours.  The house was
magnificently furnished with French antiques and art, mostly 18th century
and in splendid condition, doubtless worth an absolute fortune!

To finish, we were invited to `English Tea' in the family's private quarters
on the upper floor; these were in distinct contrast to the formal part of
the house, modern and minimalist in the extreme!  His wife was a charming
hostess and their three children so anxious to talk to us in near perfect
English that we greatly overstayed the time allotted and it was 5.30pm when
we left.  "We won't have time for a shag before dinner," Sarah whispered to
me on the way out, "it's been absolutely ages."

"Five days," I think, " you are right, that's way, way too long."

Whether or not Roger felt likewise, I don't know, but he stood up,
apologised for the lateness and asked if we should postpone dinner for an
hour.  I was about to respond when Derek said "That's a good idea, we shall
have more time for some outstanding business."  There was near instant
approval by the whole group.

"OK, I will get the dinner postponed until twenty hours, if is that okay
with you, Guillaume?  We can leave the hotel about nineteen forty-five?"  He
was falling into telling time the French way.

"Pas de problème, monsieur Roger."  Like many others, the rules relating to
drivers' working hours seemed to be more relaxed in France, or perhaps
honoured in their breaking!

Back at the hotel, it was about a minute before we were back in the suite,
in another minute we were stripped naked and in each others' arms.  Sarah
suddenly released me and said, "You haven't had time to tell me much about
this morning.  You didn't have to wank again did you?"

"No nothing like that, I've still got a full load.  I'll give you the full
story later, but I do need a pee."

"And me!"

Sarah mistakenly sat on the bidet and let fly before she realised, but at
least it left the toilet free for me.  Thus relieved, we were quickly in
each other's arms again, before I carried Sarah in the `loft position' to
the bed and dropped her on it.  She threw back the covers while I ran to the
other side and kneeled at her head.  I leant over and kissed her soft lips,
then her pert breasts; I nibbled her tits as they slowly hardened.  I leaned
further forward, kissed her abdomen, licked her navel and then moved down to
her belly, kissing the smooth flesh from side to side.  During this journey
she had taken my hardening cock into her mouth.  Her tongue was pushing into
my foreskin, probing one of my most secret places.

I buried my face in her bush, my head between her legs, pushing them apart.
My tongue darted in and out of her crack, feeling her rigid she-cock
nestling between the lips.  She was groaning, no, no it was too soon.  I
rolled to one side, stood at Sarah's head, put my hands under her shoulders
and pulled her towards me.  I leaned her body against mine, trapping my
rigid prick between my belly and her back.  I dropped my hands to her waist,
lifted her to a standing position on the bed, then lowered her to the floor,
my prick wedged in her ass crack, my hands cupping her pussy.

As if anticipating my thoughts, she kneeled on the bed, her head on her
arms, her ass raised towards my manhood, her legs apart, her wet cunt
clearly exposed.  I slipped my dick into it, right to the hilt, she rocked
to and fro, the head of my prick massaging her innermost parts.  She
groaned; no it was still too soon, I pulled out and flipped her on to her
back.  She spread her legs, "Now, Nick, now, please!"  I put my hands on the
bed alongside her breasts, my legs between hers, I lowered my body and
slipped my rock hard dick slowly, fully into her cunt.  I held it there,
still, for a few seconds to regain my composure before rapidly thrusting it
in and out, hard and deep.  I had reached the point of no return.  "Now,
Nick, now!"  I let my spunk shoot deep into her body, just as she screamed
in delight at her own orgasm.

As ever, we collapsed in a sweaty, post-coital embrace, totally relaxed,
eyes closed, stroking each other's bodies gently, not even cleaning-up.
Suddenly, "Nick, it seven o'clock!  We must shower and dress, the bus leaves
in forty-five minutes."

"I have to shave as well," I said remembering that I had omitted to do so in
the morning.  We made for the bathroom, Sarah for the shower and me for the
toilet – I read somewhere that the first thing ninety percent of men do
after intercourse is to have a pee!  Having done that and after a quick
shave, I joined Sarah who was still fighting with the shower controls, water
shooting everywhere!  Having sorted that out, there was no time for more
than a wash down.

We were dried, dressed and down in reception just as Guillaume arrived with
his minibus about 7.40pm.  Roger and Clare were already waiting.  "I can't
imagine what you two got up to when you went back to your room, but you must
have been heard in Paris!"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," I said, looking him straight in
the eye but unable to suppress a grin.  "Was it really that bad?"

"It sounded pretty good to me," Roger replied.  "Thierry said he had
mentioned sperm donation to you.  Have you thought about it?"

"No not really, nor discussed it with Sarah."

Under English law, as your family doctor, I am not allowed to discuss it
with you but since I am not in England and off-duty, I suggest that it is
something you might like to think about.  It is still anonymous over here,
the French take a more liberal attitude to the regulations that we do!"

"I sometimes feel they only pay lip service to the Brussels bureaucrats."

"That's true, the clinic would pick up all the expenses for four or five
trips a year and compensate you for `any little inconveniences' caused."

"I'll think about it and talk it over with Sarah – if we get a minute!"

We all boarded the minibus for the twenty minute drive to the restaurant
which was beautifully situated just off the harbour.  As we got off the bus,
Derek took me aside, "Has Roger spoken to you about sperm donation?"

"Yes, I am not sure what to think about it and I haven't mentioned it to
Sarah yet."

"It sounds like a good deal to me but I haven't spoken to Jane either, a
free weekend down here in exchange for a few days' abstinence now and then."

"And even getting paid for having a wank!  I assume our wives can come as
well, Roger didn't say!"

"We'll have to ask him," Derek said, "unless we wanted to turn it into an
all male weekend."  I was more than a little unsure what Derek's sideways
glance towards me meant.

The restaurant looked a little shabby from outside, the sea air I suppose,
but inside it was very plush with our table being in a small, semi-private
recess, the seating four-square like the previous evening.  Neither Sarah
nor I are especially fond of shellfish so we were very relieved to find
plenty of choice on the menu.  Roger ordered two bottles of Chablis to start
with, while we considered the menu.  Antoine and Thierry were driving, thus
strictly observing the draconian French drink-driving limits.  Having
ordered their meals, the eight women were in animated conversation about the
pleasures and pitfalls of living in France, versus England.  The menfolk
were mainly discussing our jobs; in particular, Roger was discussing with
Thierry and Antoine the possibilities for English doctors working in France.
It seemed that medical competence was the most essential thing, language
skills being less important.

The food was excellent, accompanied by several bottles of Chardonnay and
Sauvignon and lots more conversation.  Thierry evidently had two brothers,
one a regional police commandant and the other in a senior position with
France Telecom; why didn't Derek and I think about working in France?  We
both thought we would stay in Britain and perhaps one day retire to France.
Antoine was engaging Ian, John and Sid in an intense discussion on Rugby
football.  Whilst we waited for the desserts, Roger discreetly mentioned to
Thierry that he had spoken Derek and I about `donations'.  Derek asked if
wives could come too.  "But of course, why not?  Unless you prefer to come
alone, maybe if you are looking for something different."

Dinner finished about 11pm and Guillaume dropped us off safely at the hotel
before 11.30pm, saying he would collect us next morning at 10.30am to go to
the wineries.  "It's certainly a busy weekend," Jane said to Roger.

"It is that," Sarah echoed, "but it is most enjoyable all the same!"  She
looked at me and whispered, "No, not tonight."  Nevertheless, as soon as we
got to our room, we undressed, cuddled for awhile, did what we had to do in
the bathroom and then snuggled together, naked, in about one third of the
huge bed, which had again been re-made after we had deranged it earlier.
"The chambermaid must think we are sex maniacs," Sarah said.

"I am sure she has seen worse," I said, nuzzling at Sarah's tits.  "Percy
needs a little play and then he'll leave you alone `till morning."  As
bidden, she started to play with my dick but as soon as it began to show
signs of life, she said "That's it, time for sleep," snuggled up to me and
we were both asleep in minutes.

I awoke with a start, thinking the fire alarm had gone off; I leapt out of
bed shouting "Sarah, fire, fire", oblivious of my morning woodie preceding
me.

"No, you're dreaming, it is only the alarm clock, it is seven o'clock."  As
soon as she could reach, Sarah grabbed my dick and pulled me towards the
bed.  I collapsed on to it and threw my arms around her.

"I put it on to make sure we had plenty of time.  I want a long, slow shag;
be nice and slow and gentle with me; then afterwards you can tell me all
about the clinic yesterday.  So much has been going on you haven't got round
to it yet."

I laid down beside her, she turned towards me and stared massaging my arms,
my chest, my belly and eventually my Willy, then my balls.  I was stroking
her bosoms, kissing her, nibbling her ears.  Then I took one hard tit into
my lips and squeezed it, letting go when she yelped then taking the other.
I rolled her over and sat astride her hips, massaging her shoulders, her
back, her narrow waist and finally her buttocks, before sliding my hands
under her breasts, cupping then tightly.  After a few moments, I lifted
myself to my knees, Sarah turned over beneath me, sat up and kissed my lips,
my nipples, my belly; her chin was resting on my dick, she moved back,
lifted her head and took it into her mouth, at the same time folding my
balls with both hands.

I pushed her back onto the bed, I moved between her legs, kissed her tits,
then her navel, before moving down over her belly to the neatly trimmed bush
at the convergence of her outstretched legs.  I buried my face in it, my
tongue found her hot crack and darted into it, probing deeply, finding her
hardening clitoris.  I could taste her juices, she pushed me away, took hold
of my rock hard member and pulled it towards her cunt.  I slid it in gently,
she wanted this to be a long, slow shag.  My knob found her cervix and
rested there a moment before I pulled back, then gently probed again and
again, resting occasionally trying to delay my climax.  Then there were the
trademark little groans; I did not respond, I was buried to the hilt and
stayed there.  A bigger groan and another, Sarah bucked beneath me, then
screamed and gripped me tightly as she reached her orgasm and I let my spunk
pour into her, before she rolled on top of me and we collapsed together,
still joined at the hip and held tightly in each other `s arms.

It was nearly 8.30 but seemed like only moments later before Sarah said,
"Now tell me about yesterday."

Sarah had, of course met Thierry and Antoine so there was no need for me to
explain their roles, but I did mention that both had met their wives while
working in Britain and then tried to recount briefly the whole episode at
the clinic, explaining how I had struggled with the questions of `How many
partners?'  – one or two?  – and `How many children?'  I explained that
Thierry had gone through the answers with me, being impressed that we were
both virgins until our wedding day and that he had said that more sex is not
unusual in the early stages of pregnancy.

I told her about my samples of spunk being judged as very good, but with a
propensity towards boys and the white lie I had had to tell about Rob, after
Thierry mentioned his possible low count.  She was amused at his story of
the French kings and about his knowledge of the English slang!

"Where could be better to learn it than in Coventry?  I asked, before going
on to describe his close examination of my prick, complete with the running
commentary which I had later realised was for the benefit of his Dictaphone.
The thought of his French secretary having to type up a description of my
dick made me feel quite randy; would I be embarrassed if I ever met her?

"You didn't get a hard on, then?"

"Not until he repeated the process with my balls; that perked Willy up a
bit!"  Sarah started playing with my tackle, now caked with the juices from
our love-making.

"Thierry's verdict was that I had no problems at all down there, `an
excellent set of kit in full working order', he said, adding that my `your
cock has gone a little bit stiff'."

"That was when Antoine came in and Thierry said `Don't worry if you get a
full-scale hard-on when Antoine plays with your prostate'."

I told Sarah about Antoine's `intimate examination' and how he had massaged
my prostate by putting his fingers up my ass, then photographed it and gave
me a copy.  "Yuk!" she said, "so that's why Roger said you all should take a
dump before the examination!  What about your full frontal pictures?"

"Apparently Roger wants some new photographs of men's tackle for his paper;
he's chosen mine as typical.  There was a bit of banter from Derek about no
two dicks being the same; he suggested that perhaps they could be used for
ID."

"It's hard to see the difference between you and Rob," she said.

"I didn't think of that.  Anyway, I had to stand naked for this Arab
photographer and `just arrange the boles a little' before he took the
pictures.  Afterwards, I think he took some pictures of Ian's circumcised
cock."

"I have never seen one of those."

"All the pictures are on the same DVD, perhaps Roger will let me have a copy
if I ask him nicely, which reminds me we haven't looked at the DVDs J-P gave
out on Friday."

"As I recall, you didn't need to!  You had some `elp'!"  I gave her a good
squeeze.

Pierre said I had `some very beautiful tools' but that his dick was spoiled
by circumcision, but `not a nice job like Doctor Thierry does, but a
back-street, old-woman job in Algiers'."

Sarah was fondling my `very beautiful tools' again, stirring Percy into some
life, "We need a shower," she said, "continue the story there."

We went to the bathroom, pumped our respective bilges, both into the toilet
this time, Sarah stepped into the shower while I shaved and then joined her.
She just about had the taps mastered by now!  "So what else happened at the
clinic?"

"Well, just the two things really, Thierry asked me about possibly of me
becoming a sperm donor.  I think he also spoke to Derek about it.  Then
there was the meeting between Roger, J-P, Sid and Pat.  That seemed to go
pretty well, Sid went through the examination process, anyway."

"Tell me about the sperm donation thing."  She was washing my private parts
under the cascading water.

"Not a lot to tell, really.  Unlike in the UK, in France it is still
anonymous, nobody will ever know who the real father was.  The donors have
to have a complete health screening by the clinic and then come here for a
wank every few months and get paid for it.  The clinic screens the product
and does the rest, sometime later, out pops baby, mummy and daddy are very
proud and the kid never knows any different.  They try to match the spunk to
the would-be Dad's physical characteristics, they split each donation lots
of ways and can store it for a couple of years if need be."

"How long does this go on for?"

"Well, they don't like too many donations from the same man because of the
risk of two of his offspring marrying later in life but there is a shortage
of donors, so you can do it for a couple of years, perhaps more."

"And I would get to come here as well?"

"Why not?  I would need a hand from you, wouldn't I?  Derek seemed keen on
making it a `men-only' activity but I am not sure I trust him.  I think he
is a bit ac/dc, comme-ci, comme-ca.  I am not sure I want to do it at all,
anyway."

I was well washed by now; Sarah had washed herself while I was shaving but
she didn't object to me giving her more interesting parts another once-over
for good measure before we stepped out of the shower and got dried.  "I'll
have to tell you about Sid and Pat some other time," I said as we were
getting dressed, "not that I am too sure what there is to tell.  By the way,
Thierry did mention that I may have an incipient hernia.  Nothing to worry
about, f I get any pain or lumps, I must see the doctor.  I wonder if I
could get Thierry to fix it here."

It was about 9.15am when we got to the dining room for breakfast.  Only
Roger and Clare were there, "There is no sign of the others yet but
Guillaume will not be here until 10.30 or so, after church.  How did you
enjoy the evening?"  Roger asked.

"It was a very good restaurant, they do seem to know how to eat well around
here," I said.

"I'm sure I have put on a couple of pounds already," Sarah said, "I'm not
even eating for two, yet!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure you are getting plenty of exercise," Clare said.
Roger looked at me but neither of us said anything.

"Have you two discussed the donor scheme yet?  Derek seems pretty keen on
it.  I think Thierry selected you two for your Celtic characteristics,
stocky, shorter stature, dark hair.  It wasn't actually one of the
objectives of this weekend, because as you know, I am not allowed to get
involved."

"We talked about it this morning but haven't made a decision yet."

"If Nick comes, can I come as well?"  Sarah asked.  We all ignored the
double entendre.

"Yes, of course, I think people usually come from Friday evening until
Monday morning," Roger said, "That gives Thierry and his team long enough to
check the samples."

"There is no particular urgency, you don't even have to tell us," Clare
said, "You can contact Thierry after you get home if you want, you have his
details."

"Derek seems pretty keen on the idea, I'm not so sure about Jane though, he
wants to come on his own," Roger said.

"It's up to them, I suppose, but I would have thought it was a `couple'
thing," I said.  "Anyway, I might want some help."

"Nick!"  Sarah exclaimed.  Clare feigned shock.  Roger said "Many hands make
light work!"

Sid and Pat came in and joined us at our table for breakfast.  Roger
commented that they looked very pleased with themselves.  "Well, we are
among friends, so I suppose I can be frank, even over breakfast.  We were
too well fed to go to bed so we ended up having a long talk last night,
discussing where we might be going wrong, how sex should be.  Pat put your
DVDs on; we didn't think much of the one with three men but the other was
good."

Roger said, "There's five men actually, but you mean the one with three
different couples, you mean?"

"That's the one," Pat said.  "We watched all three of them, I thought it was
going to be smutty but it was really educational, seeing how they did it and
how long they kept going.  We got ourselves quite excited but it was after
two o'clock by then, so we put the alarm for on this morning."

"We put the DVD on and tried to copy the first couple, we couldn't always
quite keep up or see what they were doing, but it was definitely the best
shag we've ever had," Sid said.  Pat looked a bit surprised at his frankness
but said nothing.  "Neither of us had ever done it before we were married,
nor had we ever had any education about sex.  We didn't even know what the
other looked like down there and our wedding night was a complete fiasco.
It was weeks before Pat ever saw my dick or vice versa."

"That's great progress, you are not out of the woods yet, but keep it up.
One swallow a summer does not make!  We've set you up with some counselling
back home but it sounds like you might not need too much.  Pat, I suggest
you make an appointment to see Clare next Monday if you can, bring Sid
along.  I will be there too and we will start the ball rolling.  Ask the
receptionist for thirty minutes when you book; tell her Clare said so."

"Early is best, before I start running late," Clare said.

Sarah and I had finished breakfast and sensing Roger and Clare might want to
talk to Sid and Pat, we left them together.  "What happened to Sid and Pat
at the clinic, then?"  Sarah asked as soon as we were out of earshot.

"Well I don't know exactly but Sid, Pat, Roger and J-P met, together or
separately and talked through some of their problems.  Evidently J-P still
knows a counsellor in Birmingham from when they were both at Aberystwyth and
has organised for them to see him.  On that basis, Sid will stay on Roger's
programme with the rest of us.  I discovered he is running five groups, by
the way, about thirty couples," I replied.

"It sounds like they are on the way to solving their problems."

"It does, I was amused, though, when Sid said that Pat hadn't seen his dick
for weeks after they were married and still hasn't seen him with a hard-on!
He was even very reticent undressing in front of us men, though we had seen
him naked in the sauna.  Incidentally, French surgical gowns are different
from the English `tie-behind-your-back' style; they are conical with three
holes, for a head and two arms, much more practical."

"I remember thinking your dick was huge when I first saw it in the Novotel
on our wedding night, it was a bit scary in fact, I wondered if it would go
in!"

"Well, it did and it has done quite a few times since!  Anyway, while Sid
was getting undressed for Thierry and Antoine he was effusive in thanking me
for `opening the door for him' as he put it.  He is even going to call their
first baby Nicholas or Nicola!  It was only a chance encounter but it seems
to have worked out splendidly for them.  Anyway, I told him to make sure to
keep in touch and we exchanged phone numbers; they only live just down the
road in Knowle."

"You might even get to be a godfather," Sarah said.  "Let's take a stroll in
the grounds for a few minutes."  I think I saw Derek and Jane going out."

As it happens, they were just coming back but we stood outside in the
morning sun chatting for a while before Derek mentioned the DVDs to me, the
women were the visit to the perfumery.  "Have you watched the DVDs Roger
gave out?"

"No, we haven't thought about them really, but Sid mentioned that one was
blokes performing and the other was of three couples.  The couples seem to
have got Sid and Pat excited!"

"I am not really surprised but it was the blokes that fascinated me, the
size of their dicks and what they did with them.  I only saw a little bit
while Jane was in the shower.  I had a job to disguise my wedgie when she
came out; I had to tell her it was for her!"

In for a penny, in for a pound, "Are you a bit ... ?"

My suspicions were at least partly confirmed when he said "I've never done
anything, but I am a bit voyeuristic about blokes.  When I was a rookie, I
was out on patrol in an unmarked car on the 452 near Stonebridge and my boss
pulled into the lay-by while we eye-balled the guys disappearing down the
disused railway embankment.  I couldn't believe it when we took a walk
ourselves ..."

"Hey, you two, come along, the bus is waiting," Jane called.

The first visit was to a small, family owned winery about thirty minutes
away.  They did everything on site from growing the grapes to despatching
the wine.  From the samples we tasted after the conducted tour, with Sarah
and Roger acting as ad hoc interpreters, they certainly did a good job!  The
next stop was at a much larger place that bought in local grapes for
processing, producing much larger quantities of more consistent blends which
we sampled over another splendid "Farmers' Lunch".  Being Sunday, that
lasted the better part of two hours; the French hospitality was fantastic as
well as being very educational.

We finally `escaped' to go to the third venue, an industrial scale blending
and bottling plant which really was of little interest, except that each of
us was presented with a case of their products.  I suspect that J-P was
behind this gesture; Roger said that as we were flying, the clinic would
arrange for the gifts to be shipped to our homes.

Guillaume dropped us off at the hotel about 4.30pm, when the consensus was
that we should spend some time in the leisure before dinner in the hotel at
7.30pm.  As Sarah and I were going down to the complex we met Sid and Pat.
Sid asked if he could talk to me for a minute, we said we would join Sarah
and Pat a little later and they went on with several other members of our
group.

"Nick, Can we go back to our suite, it will be more private there?"

"Well, yes if that's what you want or we could walk and talk in the
grounds."

"The suite would be better, I think," Sid said.

We went into the suite and Sid put one of Roger's DVDs into the player and
turned the TV on.  In an instant, the rear view of a naked man appeared on
the screen.  The figure rotated to show the full frontal view of a rather
well endowed, blonde-haired man who was joined by dark-haired man naked to
the waist, both probably in their twenties.  They kissed passionately.  The
second man dropped to his knees and took the blonde's flaccid cock into his
mouth and sucked it to full mast.  As he slowly expelled it, it sprang
upwards close to the blonde's belly and extending to his navel.  The second
man dropped his track pants to reveal his own, slightly smaller, erect
penis.

Sid put both hands in his pockets, exacerbating the bulge I has seen growing
in his trousers.  My own dick felt as if it was also rising to the occasion.
"Mine is nowhere near as big as theirs," Sid said.

"Nor is mine, the models have been specially selected, especially the
blonde.  His must be nine inches at least."

"I have never seen another man's erect prick," Sid said, "will you show me
yours?

"Show me yours, I'll show you mine," I said, realising that his was already
near full erection and I was sounding a bit like `behind the bike sheds'.

He dropped his trousers.  His dick sprang to attention when he released it
from his rather tight swimming trunks.  It was, perhaps, a little shorter
and a little thinner than mine, but that was hard to judge, it was certainly
nothing to be ashamed of!  "It is pretty much there already," Sid said,
giving it a few strokes for good measure.

"I am no expert, but it looks pretty good to me, with a fine pair of balls
to match," I said as I dropped my own trousers and revealed my own manhood
from the budgie smugglers I had out on ready for the pool.  "There it is," I
said, "much the same as yours, you've nothing to worry about down below!"
He surprised me by stooping and taking the head of my dick into his mouth,
albeit briefly.

"Do that for me, I have always wanted Pat to but never dared to ask her."

I did.  When I released it, I said, "I wanted Sarah to and she wanted to do
it but neither of us dared ask for months and months.  Then I asked and the
ice was broken, we do it all the time now!"

"One last thing," he said, "before the women start wondering where we have
got to, will you have a wank?  I want to see your spunk.  I will if you
will."

"I will," I said, "but it doesn't have to be a quid pro quo.  You might want
a shag later."  I started stroking my dick, "I am going to make this very
quick and try to save some for later."

"OK, I'll just watch then."  Sid still had his trousers down and his prick
out.

"My Father calls this `tossing-off': I still remember his little lecture a
day or two after my mother reported the first wet dream in my pyjamas."  I
said, already getting close to coming.

"My father didn't say much to me, we were on holiday in Porthcawl , getting
changed for a swim one day and he said something like `I see you're getting
a bit of hair down below, you'll be after the girls before long, just be
careful' and that was about it.  I used to try to see other men's cocks in
the bog or the shower room at work.  I'd never seen so many as in the sauna
with you yesterday."  It was little wonder that Sid was a bit confused about
sex.

"I'm coming, any second now, here it is!"  I just caught the two or three
spurts in my hand.  Sid looked at it then took my dick into his mouth again
and licked off the remains of my spunk.  I was just looking for something to
wipe may hand and he licked that clean too.

"That was great, thank you very much, Nick.  Pat and I have so much to be
grateful to you for, we could have been struggling for years."  He `shook
hands' with my now shrinking member.

"OK, don't worry about it, I am pleased to help and you have my phone
number.  We'd better get tidied up and down to the pool, Sarah and Pat will
be wondering where we have got to," I said, pulling up my trunks and
realising they were going to get stained with the last drips from my cock.

"Right, let's find the women," Sid said and we went off towards the pool.

Predictably, most of the women were chatting on the sun loungers and the men
were swimming lengths in the pool.  "Come on you two, where have you been,
jump in," Roger shouted.  We stripped off our tee shirts, footwear and
trousers and did just that.

After another 15 or 20 minutes, the women decided to get ready for dinner,
the men decided on a last session in the steam room and sauna.  As soon as
we were naked I realised that Sid's knob was still out; I checked that mine
was stowed.  Would anyone else notice?  We'd been in the steam room for a
couple of minutes when Roger said, "A hard shag was it, Sid?"  Sid looked
confused, "Your knob, you can put it away now," Roger added, pointing
towards Sid's tackle.

"Oh dear, I didn't notice, it gets stuck occasionally."

"I don't have that problem anymore," Ian said, "it was a problem before I
got cut though.  I had to go to the school nurse once, it was so painful!"

"We do about half a dozen a year at the surgery," Roger said.  "Grown men,
mostly, some can't get their knobs out, others won't go back in.  With young
boys these days, we try to encourage them to stretch their foreskins before
puberty.  In the States, they're still pretty keen on the snip just a few
days after birth."

"It was good enough for Jesus Christ," John said philosophically.

"My brother was taught how to hold the very end when he was peeing so the
water filled his foreskin," Ian said, "so that it stretched and he didn't
have to get trimmed like me."

"Yes, remember that Nick and Derek when your sons are born, that's the way
to do it even if it does splash piss all over the place!"  Roger advised.

"My neighbour's twenty year-old had the snip a few weeks ago," I said,
"well, not so much a snip as a strangulation, it brought tears to my eyes
when he told me."

"Yes, that's how we prefer to do it," Roger said, "we pop a plastic thimble
under the foreskin, and tie it off.  Then  it dries up and drops off after a
couple of days.  Some men never find them so keep your eyes open in the
street."  The huge belly laugh could only have come from men talking about
sex.  Clad only in very loose shorts, Jaques popped his head around the door
wondering what the noise was all about.

"Ah! We `ave `ere six English dicks making jokes."  I think he was mixing
his metaphors a little and the bulge at his crotch was certainly betraying
his interests!  Derek said, "Come in here a moment, Jaques."  As Jaques did
as he was asked and closed the door behind him, Derek put his hand up the
leg of the shorts.

"Ah!  We `ave `ere the grand pénis français et aucuns knickers!"

As Derek fondled Jaques's dick it grew noticeably until Jaques undid his
belt and Derek released his grip, allowing the loose shorts to fall on to
the wet floor, revealing the Frenchman's tackle in all its ascendant glory.
One or two of the English cocks were beginning to look a bit twitchy.  Derek
was playing with his in one hand and Jaques's in the other

 "Cut like yours, Ian, but not so tidy!"  Derek said.

"But it is not so big, seulement quinze centimètres, and I `ave twenty
years."

"Qui a le plus grand dick, peut-être celui-ci?"  He pointed to me.

"Sept pouces, dix-huit centimètres," I said.  Roger admitted to his `five
inches on a good day, small, but it works well!'  Most of us were showing
distinct signs of excitement as each man announced his size.  Sid was last
to say "about a six inches, not as thick as some around me, though," as he
looked straight at my erect member, one that he had handled an hour or so
ago!

"Ce Monsieur a le plus long et le plus épais, c'est un dick très bon, il
fera beaucoup de bons bébés,"  Jaques was pointing at me, everybody was
laughing, seven cocks jiggling!

"Plus tard je devrai me branler mon pénis, I will shake my dick," Jaques
said as he pulled his wet shorts over his rampant member.  "Vous pouvez
visser vos épouses ce soir, you can shag your wives!"

Jaques held out his hand and said, "It has been good to meet you, au revoir,
a bientot.  Make babies tonight!"  We all shook his hand warmly, still
aroused, still laughing and still naked.  He left and we went to the
showers, jostling with each other's semi-erect dicks as we went.

The frolics over, we showered, dried off, got dressed and went back to our
rooms where our wives were getting dressed for the informal dinner in the
hotel.  Sarah wanted to know why I had been so long.  I filled in most of
the details while I was getting changed, including the earlier encounter
with Sid.  "I feel really sorry for Sid and Pat," she said, "and there must
be thousands more like them."

"Probably less so in this so-called enlightened age of television and now
that most youngsters get proper sex education at school.  I suppose being
brought up on a farm helped me understand.  Dad only recently told me that
him and Uncle John were taught a thing or two by their Aunt Jane.
Apparently that was how it was done in their day in the welsh borderlands,
before television!"

"You mean ... ?

"Yes, exactly!  Dad told me when we saw him last.  And apparently I was
conceived in a haystack.  That probably explains why I like outdoor sex."

I got a slap, the first for a while.  "Why on earth did he tell you that?"

"We were talking about babies and he said he had been worried about Rob and
I being able to father children.  Remember Uncle John never did."

"You didn't tell him?"

"No indeed!  But I don't want to have to struggle through too many
conversations like that.  He did say that John had asked him if he would try
`help out' but Mother wouldn't hear of it, hence no `cousins'.  Anyway, it's
time for dinner!"

We were the last of our group to the dining room where the party had been
given two adjacent tables for six and four waiters dedicated to serve us.
We sat with Derek and Jane, Sid and Pat.  We were barely seated when Jane
asked sarah "Has Nick told you about the men's encounter this afternoon?
Pat and I were just talking about what men get up to when our backs are
turned!"

I nearly fell off my chair when Pat said "I hear yours was voted the
biggest, Nick."  Sarah looked at me but didn't say anything.

Roger must have overheard because he leaned over and said "I was the one
that lost out on that count but Clare says she can't have everything!"

"The frolics aside, I have said several times that I am off duty this
weekend, so is Clare.  Anything that happens is strictly off the record.
Whatever went on at the clinic, in the hotel or anywhere else is none of our
business.  Discussions we've had between us are exactly that, discussions
among friends.  The tests and conversations at the clinic were organised by
J-P and Antoine strictly for the drug company and all six of us men agreed
to take part."

"Just one more thing, Guillaume will take us to town in the morning, is 10am
OK with everyone?  And he will pick us up at 4.30pm; that will be plenty of
time to leave here for the airport at 6pm.  There's lots to do and see
around the town or if you want to, you can take a local bus to Ile de Ré,
joined to the mainland by a bridge.  There are lots of beaches, little
villages to explore and, of course, plenty of restaurants.  Right, it is
already half past seven, let's enjoy our dinner; the chef has produced a
`taster menu', about thirty dishes at the last count, have as much or as
little of whatever you want – but I warn you, don't have too much of the
earlier courses because he tends to keep the best until last!"

At that stage, the waiters produced the menus, thirty-two taster courses
with seven suggested wines to accompany them.  An irreverent thought about
the cost of modern drugs crossed my mind, if this was how the companies
entertained!  The dinner was an absolute masterpiece, a cunning rotation of
seemingly tiny helpings, with perhaps three or four complimentary dishes on
one's plate at any given time, the wines perfectly matched throughout.

It was after ten o'clock when the coffee and liqueurs were served, we were
all well fed but not stuffed after the leisurely meal and wide ranging
conversations.