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I had lots to think about after that weekend, the first letter I wrote on the Monday evening was to Margaret and Florence thanking them for the lovely time I had. Them another to Emma telling her all about it too and about how embarrassing their openness had been, yet admitted I had found it exciting. At the time I didn't think I could ever get used to such openness, yet I realized that's how I'd felt about Emma's perversions and somehow got used to it. The next couple of times we went up to London we stayed with them, and again were made most welcome. I found I was able to contribute be helping out with the dishes, making tea and other small favors. It was like Margaret was the queen and we were her servants catering to her needs. Still she had a matter-of-fact way about her that seemed to suit her, and Florence was the right match for her. It was like Florence was the den mother, but Margaret was head of the family. At the time I'm talking about I was only 20 going on 21, Margaret 27 and Florence about ten years older. They both had jobs, Florence had managed to persuade Margaret to give up her old ways and go to night school. The outcome was not only that she had a good job in a financial institute, but she was also a supervisor, and doing all right at it. They were a strange couple in some ways; Margaret had been born and raised in Canning Town, in those days probably the worst slum in London. Her parents (if they were married) were alcoholic's as were most of her extended family. Most lived on welfare, or with what money could be obtained through stealing, or whoring. When Margaret was in her early teens she left home to go live with her Aunt and cousins, not that they were much better, but she got on better with her cousins than she did with her own brothers and sisters. Florence was from a comfortable middle class family, an only child although she went to the right schools, and mixed with the right social class. She was not unattractive, rather had a bit of a homely appearance that seldom dated. She went to college and got a degree in social work, where she would come in contact with lots of social misfits. She stayed a virgin till she got married to an upper class gentleman, the bowler hatted type who worked in a bank in the city. Margaret on the other hand was an extremely attractive outgoing girl, who in her late teens was described then as an 'angry young girl.' With a perfect body to match her good looks, she was a magnet for all kinds of men pursuing her charms. Prostitution seemed the only way out of the misery she lived in, as it was with most young girls. Between that and stealing she often had brushes with the law, that got her sent to reform school, then when she turned 18 to prison. Being raised in her environment Margaret learned at an early age how to survive, sleeping 5 or 6 to a room with her peers put an end to any forms of modesty anyone might have had, had they known any better that is. Whereas Florence was from a very different social background, being bahis şirketleri raised from an early age to be a lady, and that her body was not something to be proud of. After about 3 or 4 months we were staying there for a long weekend, Darlene and I had driven up on the Friday night after work to be there for the weekend. The Friday evening was spent at the club, and after we returned to their Flat for the night. By now I was getting used to the sounds of their lovemaking, in fact not only getting used to it, but actually enjoying it. Why I would think other ladies wouldn't have similar feelings to us I don't know, but that's how I felt at the time. I never thought I'd ever get over Margaret's ways in private; the next morning after waking up I had to rush to the bathroom as I often did and plunked myself down on the toilet. I loved the feeling of relief that comes with the first pee of the day, and not paying attention I let go some flatulence. Suddenly a voice said, "My that was a relief I bet," and looking up startled to see Margaret standing there in all her glory and smiling at me. I was so embarrassed I could have crawled down the toilet myself; I didn't know what to say just mumbled something like "Sorry" and couldn't look at her. She came into the room and stood opposite me waiting to use the throne herself. I'm sure by this time she was getting a kick out of my embarrassing moments and this was no different. Sitting there and she was leaning with her back against the vanity, my head felt like it was in line with her groin. I saw she had the most beautiful full bush of jet black pussy hair, with her slim waist and lovely rounded hips it was like it was the perfect centerpiece. At last what had seemed like an endless stream of piss came to an end, and I was finally able to wipe myself and get up and flush the toilet. Standing up Margaret stood to one side to let me at the washbasin while she in turn sat on the toilet, and I heard her 'relief' hit the water, the noise it made obviously didn't bother her as she enjoyed her morning pee. In so many ways she was so much more outgoing then me. That afternoon Darlene was going to visit her mother, but Margaret invited me to go with her to, as she put it, "See how the other half lived." She had Florence bring their car around and we got it took off to the East end of the city. Just driving through the streets made me start to feel uneasy, and Florence finally parked on this side street. I was informed this was 'Canning Town' as I said, probably the worst slum in London at that time. Once we got out of the car a bunch of kids came rushing up calling her name, and Margaret returned the greetings calling them by name. Then she dug into her handbag and retrieved some coins and gave each one something, saying "Now you watch my car" and led the way a few doors down and we entered this pub. The place was quite crowded even for the time of day, around one in the afternoon. The place was very smoky and dark, then there shouts of, bahis firmaları "It's Maggie, 'ow the fuck are yer'" in the typical cockney slang, and some of the women came up and gave her a big hug. "You doin' all right Flo" she was asked, they obviously knew her from previous visits. Margaret introduced me as 'Rosalyn' to them, but obviously formality was lost on them and soon they were calling me Rosie or Rose, whatever suited them. They cleared a table for us to sit at and right away someone brought Margaret and Florence drinks and asked me what I wanted, so I ordered a Gin and tonic. (By this time I had learned that Gin was the Londoners drink, being cheap and plentiful.) We were joined by an aunt and two of her female cousins and they were soon engaged in a heated conversation. After a couple of drinks Margaret soon lapsed back into her thick cockney accent, I guess one never really loses it no matter how hard you try. There were lots of others; men as well as women, who stopped to say ?ullo,?ow are yer' in their cockney way. Margaret and Florence were quite generous in buying lots of drinks for others as well as themselves, although Florence was only drinking lemonade. I was to learn later as this was to be expected, as Margaret was one who had, "Done well for 'erself." I took notice of the patrons; there were obviously a lot of whores there, as it was too early in the day for them to ply their trade. However having said that, there probably wasn't a female in the place that hadn't turned the odd trick to make, 'a few Bob' when the occasion arose. (A Bob was a figure of speech for a shilling.) Except for Florence that is. I was appalled at how the women dressed, the cheapest and not too clean clothes, too much make up plastered on. We called them 'Tarts' in those days. Although they were friendly enough and quite cheerful and pleased to see their old friend 'Maggie', (made me think of an old song called 'Maggie May.' The men were different, the young ones wore crepe soled (Brothel creeper) shoes, drainpipe trousers and fingertip length jackets with velvet collars and string or skinny ties. Their hair was done up in a D.A. (Ducks arse) style made popular by Tony Curtis. They were largely known as 'Teddy Boys' then. Some older men wore badly fitting cheap suits that seemed to large for them, with baggy trousers that looked like they had been slept in, black or dark shirts with white or other bright gaudy ties, with soup or other stains on them. Their hair was slicked down in that old fashioned way with grease or Brylcreme, we referred to them as 'spivs.' Also it was popular with a lot of Dock workers. Still I kind of enjoyed it, Florence had tipped me off to, "Stay close to Margaret" and I would be alright and have nothing to worry about, after all some of their appearances were quite frightening to me. Still this was Margaret?s neck of the woods, and she obviously loved revisiting her old neighborhood on occasion. The drinks had flowed quite freely, and I was certainly kaçak bahis siteleri feeling good by the time we left. Back at the car Margaret dished out some more change to the kids hanging around. Florence unlocked the car and got in behind the wheel, and Margaret indicated for me to get in the back seat with her. As we drove back across the city she held my hand and asked, "Well what did you think?" In truth I didn't know what to say to her, I had enjoyed it yet I was a bit apprehensive about it. As if reading my mind she gave my hand a squeeze and said, "That's all right dear just remain seated and keep your knees together and you'll be alright." That was the first of many trips I would make with her to her 'local' as she called it, over the next few years. Back at the Flat it was still too early to go anywhere, and Darlene wasn't back from her mother?s so I went and laid down for a nap for a couple of hours. Darlene woke me up when it was time for supper and we joined the others at the table. That night it was off to the club again, by now I was getting to be known to quite a few of the other ladies. They seemed to think that because I was friends with Margaret and Florence, that I was 'all right' and hence was welcomed into their midst. As before we danced a lot sharing with some of the other ladies, and before the night was over we were invited to a get together at one of the ladies houses. It was a 'come as you are and BYOB' affair starting later in the afternoon, and we were to bring something towards supper, a 'pot luck' affair. I was excited about it but unfortunately we would have to leave early as we had our long drive back to camp after. However Margaret said Florence would bring something for all of us to eat, and we would follow them in Darlene?s car so we could leave right from there to go back to camp. That night Darlene and I made love as usual, I think the fun we had at the club coupled with the sounds of love from our hosts made us particularly randy. So to do what we wanted to one another without worrying about others might think, gave me some awesome feelings that I was happy to let out in the throes of love with my Darlene. That Sunday morning as usual I got up and went and had my pee, as the bathroom was right across from our bedroom I dashed across naked as I had done before. By now I was getting kind of used to the ways of the house, and after was expecting to put on my knickers and a blouse to join them in the kitchen for breakfast. Only I heard Margaret call to me from the kitchen. When I answered her she said "Come here for a minute," and by now I knew when she wanted something she expected it to be right away. I said, "In a minute I'm going to put something on." "Never mind that" she replied, "Just get in here." I did as I was told and automatically place my hand over my most private part and an arm over my breasts. "Look at that" she said to the others, "Can you believe how modest she is?" "Yes she's a real sweetheart," Darlene said, "Even in private for the longest time after we became lovers." "Never mind Rosalyn you're among friends here, come let me see what you look like." At that and I was blushing like hell I slowly dropped my hands to let her cast her eyes on my nakedness.