Trip to Glastonbury 2.

As we pulled out of the garage and into open daylight,
I glanced over my shoulder and both were half naked, in
a classic 69 position. They obviously were using
fingers and tongues on each other. I made a detour of
sorts into Northtown and asked the girls to stop what
they were doing and to get “decent”. I had heard at
least 6 climaxes take place and I did not know and
didn’t really care who had gotten their nut off.

I stopped in front of a Fredericks of Hollywood sign
and gave each of them a $100 bill and told them to go
in there and get the things they needed to keep me
interested, because we were soon going to take a trip
overseas as I had some on-site research to do. Gina’s
reaction was quite apparent as to what she seemed to
think what that overseas trip might be. Maryanne’s
reaction was that she did not seem to have a clue. She
further advised that she was mysterious as to how she
could go overseas and leave little Danny at home with
his “father”. I advised her that where there is a will,
there is always a way.

With that these two gorgeous wives got out of the car
and went into the store. I just sat there, watching
them shop. Every once in awhile I would see one of them
glance my way. Finally Maryanne seemed to get a big
reaction as if Gina had told her something. It is not
clear what Gina could have said, neither of them knew
for sure where the trip was going to be to, but in
light of what Gina and I had discussed that a.m., in
the office, she probably figured we were headed to
England and it would only be a “natural” for her to
tell Maryanne this.

When they had finished shopping Maryanne could not get
out to the car fast enough. Her first words were “How
cum you didn’t tell me we were going to England? What
am I going to do with Danny?”

I suggested to her that perhaps she could find a
babysitter to stay with Daniel and watch Danny? Or she
could fly her mother from West Virginia out to Seattle
to watch Danny while she was in England? Or she could
ask Daniel’s mother to come and babysit little Danny?

Then she wanted to know how she was going to explain a
trip to England to Daniel…as she had never been
required to even go out of town on business overnight
before. I quickly dispelled that by telling her that
she had just been promoted to Assistant Executive Sales
Secretary (a name I had just made up, that did not
really increase her salary any), and that she could go
home and announce that to Daniel later on that evening.

She had informed Gina while they were shopping in the
store her close previous relationship with me and the
often guessed paternity of little Danny. Gina seemed to
take it all in stride… while she and I had been
fucking she had figured that I had done a lot of
fucking someone before she came along. Now that
Maryanne had told her all about Maryanne and I, she
understood us quite well. She got into the car and
asked that we not go anywhere until we had a good long
talk. She did not appear saddened; in fact she seemed
more joyful.

She said that on the way back from the Playboy Club
today that she had gotten to know Maryanne quite well
and felt that they both had a lot in common and could
be greatly beneficial to each other. She also said that
my actions over the past few days were very positive
toward my maintaining a loving husband-like
relationship with her and that she had a complete trust
in me to do right by her.

As she said this, Maryanne casually caressed Gina and
it was pretty obvious… these beauties were falling
into a Lesbian relationship with each other to be
included in a Bi-sexual one with me, as well. I quickly
determined that we should perhaps consummate this and
there was yet one place close by that we could do it…
as my old house’s lease had not yet expired and my bed
was still there, intact.

We gave up on the idea of returning to the office and
Maryanne phoned in to her boss and said that she
thought she had gotten food poisoning at Lunch and was
headed for the doctor’s office and would not be in
until at least tomorrow. As soon as we got through the
front door of my “old” residence, I locked the door and
the girls were busily stripping off their clothes. Then
they started in on mine and we were soon all 4 of us
naked as the day we were born. Maryanne’s tits were not
as firm looking as Gina’s as she had had my baby and it
had suckled on her.

Maryanne made casual mention to Gina that her tummy
would soon be round as we had already fucked one time
and that was yesterday, and I had delivered a cockload
of sperm into her womb, and she had started ovulating
just yesterday morning. Gina told her “don’t feel
pregnant… I am hoping that I may “catch” soon as
well, as I want to have his baby, too.”

Gina went on to tell Maryanne about her marriage to
that Air Force pilot who did not seem to know that he
had a wife at home that wanted to start a family. I
told them both to take things as they come that if God
wanted them to have babies that He would do what was
necessary for it; and that for now “Let’s just enjoy
each other and love one another as He seemed to want us
to do.”

They both smiled at that and we were soon squirming and
wrestling around on the bed naked. I thought to
myself… I’ve got to slow this down or I’m going to
have a heart attack!

We fucked all afternoon. I got to the point that my
cock was hard but I could not shoot any cum as none was
left. We didn’t have anything to eat, as I had not
shopped in favor of living at Gina’s house, so we got
dressed about 6 p.m., and went out and got in my car
and headed for McChord AFB and Gina’s house.

Maryanne had never been on an Air Force base before so
this was a new experience for her. She could not get
over the similarity of all the houses up and down the
block and said that now she knew what “uniformity” met.
Just before we got to Gina’s house I remembered…
Maryanne was going to have to go to work tomorrow in
the same outfit she had on today and that was no good.

The mother(s) of my babies certainly deserved more. So
since department stores were mostly all closed this
time of the evening (it was now 9 p.m.) I took them
over to a Wal-Mart Supercenter, and gave each of them
another $100 apiece and told them to “go shopping” for
new outfits. Gina cautioned Maryanne…”Don does not
like underwear, so don’t buy any.” To which Maryanne
just smiled and chuckled… she and I had been down
this “route” before.

On the way home we stopped by the Oyster House in
Olympia. The Oyster House is an on-wharf seafood
restaurant that has an unlimited supply of seafood. We
were interested in building up our stamina because we
had been fucking most of the afternoon and we could
well be fucking half the night away yet.

Gina taught Maryanne that to eat a raw oyster was akin
to drinking down a load of cum and if she could swallow
a raw oyster that she surely could swallow a load of my
cum similarly. It was a good thing she did, because
later on Maryanne could not seem to get enough of my
hot fertile cum down her throat.

We returned to Base Housing and once again closed all
the doors and locked them and were naked and fucking.
We fucked most of the night away before we succumbed to
sleep. We awoke the next morning at about 10 a.m. and
Maryanne called the office and lied, telling them she
was still sick and would hopefully be in the next day.

We got up, washed, and dressed, and I took them out to
Breakfast. Afterwards we “snuck” into my office where
the girls did their lesbian thing while I took care of
my normal business. As I finished, it was about 4:30
p.m. and the phone rang. It was the Archbishop from
Bath and he had some trouble that only I could take
care of, and “would it be possible for you to come over
here right away and take care of it?”

This put me in a quandary of sorts. I knew that Gina
had a passport, but I did not know if Maryanne had one
or not. As it turned out, Tom, her boyfriend who had
ditched her unexpectedly and we always had thought that
he wanted to do her dirty and ditch her at some God-
forsaken place but somehow failed (he had ditched her
once, later, and that was in the USA, but that is
another story), had made her get a passport in
anticipation of them going to Paris one time, and she
still had this. She had kept it in her Safe Deposit Box
at the bank.

I answered to Bath that we would make arrangements for
taking the airplane leaving Seattle two days from now
because we had to make arrangements for car rental, B&B
and airline tickets as I was bringing my secretaries
with me as they had never been out of the USA before
and one was very much interested in the whole
Glastonbury story.

Chapter 4

Maryanne was having problems of what she could do with
Danny whilst she was gone to England. She decided she
should return home to Daniel that night, with the
explanation that she had gotten some kind of food
poisoning at Lunch the day before and did not want to
scare him, so she had simply checked herself into a
local hospital overnight. She explained to me that she
had often done this when she went out with the girls
and drank too much, so he would not suspect any
different.

Now she figured she had to do something more that made
some sense, but she did not know what she was going to
figure up to tell him. She needn’t have worried…
Daniel’s bosses had chartered a fishing boat for
fathers and their sons and Daniel had opted in
Maryanne’s absence to take little Danny fishing with
him for a week.

Later that night when Daniel had Danny out to Wal-Mart
and they were acquiring all the appropriate fishing
gear for their “trip”, Maryanne called me at Gina’s
house and told us the news! She could barely contain
herself over the phone, she was so happy! They were
supposed to leave for their fishing trip the very next
afternoon.

Gina was elated with excitement. Not only was she going
to get fucked every night, she was going to maybe even
get fucked where the ancients in Christianity had
fucked. She had gotten very excited at making love with
Maryanne in their Lesbian couplings and she seemed to
thoroughly enjoy the slipping of my hardness into her
pussy doggie style as she sucked on Maryanne'[s clit.

She had learned on the modern Internet all the malarkey
about “Roman Catholic tales of paganistic beliefs
surrounding Jesus”… now she could see for herself the
actual sites that made those lies so ridiculous. She
even called her father, telling him of her recent
fortune, and I could hear her telling him all about me
as her employer and wanting her to learn more about the
truth about Jesus. In my studies in both my formal
education in college working on my Master’s degree in
Theology, as well as recent further research on the
Internet, I had learned that there are some very good
superficial reasons why all this took place in England.

Because of Joseph’s merchant business it was a known
location, where Royal friends could help, and far from
persecution. The deeper levels of meaning require
broader levels of perspective. Without going into
detail again, I’ll mention that the Lost Tribes were
headquartered in Britain. Ephraim and Judah were
already running the country. These folks, and their
cousins that would come in later, are the very ones who
God drafted to take His message to the world. We’re
looking at a plan that God set up to run almost four
thousand years ago.

He called Abraham to father the nation that would
supply the stock and the wealth for the Zarah line to
precede the Israelites into Europe, from whence they
would take the Message of Christ to the rest of the
world. Please remember when reading the following Bible
references that the House of Israel is distinct from
the House of Judah. All are Israelites (descendents of
Israel/Jacob), but only the Tribe of Judah are the
Jews.

Although many of the Jews were scattered, Jeremiah, in
50:17 is talking about the House of Israel. We know
from the context, in which he clearly separates “the
children Israel”, from the “children of Judah.”
(v.4,20)

Hosea echoes the scattering in chapter 1 verse 4.

First Peter is addressed to the “scattered
expatriates.” The places he names are just the
locations of Israelite groups of the northeast
Mediterranean. An astounding prophecy is made by the
High Priest Caiaphas in John 11:51-52. Jesus would die
for the Jewish nation AND the ones scattered abroad
Jesus says he has other sheep “not of this
(geographical Israel) fold.” John 10:16 Jesus says that
he is sent, and he sends his apostles to the “lost
sheep of the House of Israel.”

Why not just say Israel? Jesus was specifying a
particular group of Israelites. Looking up the word
gentiles in Strong’s reveals the definition, “a tribe;
specifically a foreign(non-Jewish) one.” The Jews of
Jesus’ time called the Celts and Scythians Gentiles,
along with all the other folks that didn’t worship God.
Yet a few understood. Like Peter and Paul.

Paul writes to the Roman Church. The church that was
headed up by the Royal British family, a few of which
were related to him by law. He says in, Romans 15:8-12,
that Jesus, as well as minister to “the circumcision”,
but also came that the Gentiles might Glorify God.

Can there be any doubt that Christianity flowed out of
Britain in the first century after the crucifixion? But
remember, Joseph of Arimathea was tied into the Royal
British family, and the ties went straight into the
Royal Roman family as well. It’s just an impossible
piece of history. The Roman Emperor who decrees death
to all Christians, becomes the wing under which the
Church at Rome flourishes. He gives his daughter in
marriage to the former British King, then adopts the
daughter of his fiercest enemy, the British king
Caradoc.

And all this in the midst of the bloody war with
Britain. That night Gina stripped me naked and then
stripped herself. She was bound and determined that she
and I would consummate our love even more fully with
one another. I fucked her just once that night, but
when I shot those little fishies into her it was with a
strong desire that they turn into at least one baby, if
not more.

Like Jesus, I held a strong desire to have a baby from
each of my wives. I hoped that at least one of them
would have children, who would further have children,
and on down the bloodlines to create yet another
lineage resembling our Prince William of England as the
late Princess Diana had apparently tried but had met a
terrible and untimely death over. The next day at work
(Thursday) I got on the Internet and reserved airline
reservations for myself and my two “wives”.

We were extremely fortunate in that we got seats all
the way back on that British Airways Boeing 747, Flight
48, leaving from Seattle at :10 p.m. Friday night.
Those seats were a definite plus… they were
immediately adjacent to the lavatories on the plane and
had more leg room than the normal tourist cabin seat
had (when I fly somewhere, while I could afford an
upgrade to Business class, I do not, because for those
extra couple of hundred dollars for roughly 9 hours of
travel time it is hardly worth it, and I’d rather be
able to afford more when I get to my destination).

The lavatories would be handy… I “could not see”
myself or either of these hot young wives being able to
ride that old airplane for 9.5 hours between Seattle-
London without getting at least one load of cum in
their belly that they might have to douche themselves
over. Maryanne had been pregnant once, and now she
wanted to see if perhaps cum shot into her at 450 mph
at 40,000 feet would feel differently? I thought…
“Women… “!

That would put us in to Heathrow at Noon on Saturday. I
then contacted my normal car rental company that I use
in England and made reservations for a new Jaguar
estate wagon that we could pick up at Heathrow upon
arrival. I called my normal B&B landlady in Glastonbury
who had a couple of Bed and Breakfast rooms adjacent to
each other, one with a single bed and the other with a
double bed and found that her accommodations were
available for the 3 of us starting Saturday night.

I called the church people at Bath back and told them
of all my arrangements and since we would be arriving
at the Abbey on Saturday after picking up our car, and
the next day was Sunday, that they would meet us there
on that Sunday. The Abbey had a meeting place where we
could meet and discuss and “iron out” any problem
areas.

The Archbishop agreed to have the Sales people from the
bus lines there to better offer and discuss the
services they were to provide to us. Maryanne spent
Thursday night in our bed at McChord AFB. We did not
get much sleep because I had called in to my company’s
headquarters in Hong Kong advising them that I was on
business in England for the next week or so and would
let them know when I returned.

I made up a convincing story to them, saying that I was
working on a big international trade development that
involved the Communist Chinese, North Korea and Vietnam
on one side and the English, Germans and Italians on
the other side with the USA in the middle as a
transloading point, and that I could not discuss this
with anyone because of security arrangements. They were
very excited about this and wished me good luck.

Those wives nearly fucked me raw that night. One time I
was fucking Maryanne and Gina was down there between
Maryanne’s legs with her head, under my cock and
licking my balls as I was licking and tongue fucking
Gina in a corkscrew position. At another time I fucked
Gina and as I unloaded my shots of fishies into her
womb she screamed and I saw Maryanne pissing on my back
which dribbled down onto Gina’s nakedness beneath me.
God had obviously made these two lovely fuck mates for
me on a “special order”… I could not have asked for
more!

Our bodies were a continuous mess of wet pee, cum,
pussy juice all night. We kept our bearings by gulping
large amounts of Kosher wine, which made us have to pee
all the more. Gina’s bed was definitely going to have
to be replaced from being so saturated with spent cum
and piss from this evening! To keep confusion down, I
took the women down to a local jewelry shop Friday
morning and bought them each a nice set of engagement
and wedding rings, so that if anything arose over in
England (not that I suspected it might) that they could
claim that they were each my wife, on separate
inquiries of course.

That Friday night saw us at Sea-Tac at the British
Airways passenger counter. True to their word, those
highly professional BA stewards and stewardesses took
our luggage on check-in and helped us aboard that big
ship of the skies. As it turned out, this was not the
tourist season, so there was a lot of extra room on
board. We each had six seats across to be able to lie
down on and hopefully sleep.

We explained to one of the stewardesses that Gina’s
husband was an Air Force pilot on the C-17, but that
Gina had never flown on one of these larger airplanes
before. She wanted to know where Gina’s husband was and
we advised her that we were on a Theological planning
mission and that he was busily flying missions in and
out of the various hot spots all over the world. We did
not say anything but we “gathered” that this stewardess
figured that Maryanne and I were husband and wife. If
she only knew…

Then we were taxiing out to the runway and we were
forced back into our seats as we felt those big jets
suck in their air and push us forward. The front of
plane lifted off and soon I could feel the air currents
grab us and we floated into the air, with the end of
the runway passing below us about 200 feet. We went
into a steep climb and the pilot banked the plane to
the left and I could see Mt. Rainier pass under our
wing as we soon were higher than its peak.

As we headed almost due North towards the Hope-
Princeton area, I could see out in the distance the
Okanogan Valley, and then Osooyos, British Columbia,
and then Lake Okanagan before rising above the clouds
and out into nothing but blue sky. The women were about
as excited as they could get without peeing their
pants, figuratively speaking.

I had asked that for this trip that I would be very
pleased if no underwear was worn at any time, because
it has been my experience in England that fucking is
normally condoned regardless of where it is attempted,
except in most churches. At Glastonbury Abbey, except
in the museum, or in a service within the old confines
of the Sanctuary itself, normal social intercourse
without sex being involved, was entirely possible and
permitted as long as it did not become an display of
fucking in an out-and-out orgy. On the Glastonbury Tor
nearby group nudity with its accompanying fucking was
often the norm.

It seemed like in no time at all we were approaching
the 10,000 lakes area of southern Canada. The women
could not believe that there were so many lakes down
there, but then I reminded them that we are 40,000 feet
above them and as such we could see for miles adjacent
to just one lake. We were approaching an area that not
many people think about.

In this day and age where the computer rules we did not
have to worry about it much, but if we had not had our
computer on this airplane, and if we had to rely on the
magnetic basis of North and South, our compass would
have been going berserk. As it was, our BA flight crew
did not even have to bother about the correct heading
as we continued to fly a straight line to London.

Soon we could see the nighttime of the United States
sky off to the distant to our right. We would not
experience more than perhaps 15 minutes of darkness
tonight as when it got dark on us, the sun would be
coming up shortly to our left. We saw the shoreline of
the Hudson’s Bay emerge and then it looked like we were
crossing the Atlantic Ocean, but in reality we were
simply over Hudson’s Bay as soon we were once again
crossing eastern Canada.

We could see Newfoundland off to the distance with its
blinking lights of Halifax and then there seemed to be
nothing below us, although in reality there was much…
millions of gallons of Atlantic Ocean and icebergs such
as what had sunk the Titanic in 1912. I began to doze
off, as it was now my bedtime of about midnight back in
Seattle.

I was awakened by Gina. She had stayed awake and had
caught a glimpse of whiteness below us, she thought we
were at the North Pole. I explained to her about
Greenland which calmed her concerns a bit…she had
thought that the aircrew had gotten us lost. Cuddling
her back to sleep we lay in each other’s arms with an
airline blanket covering us. We got a funny look from
the Stewardess as she awoke us to give us our Dinner
meal.

I think she was trying to figure out what this young
wife was doing in my loving arms when she had said that
her husband was a Lieutenant in the Air Force and was
away from home, flying. If she would have checked the
smell on my fingers she would have found that that
young Air Force wife’s pussy juice had been bathing
them. We sat up and straightened our clothes. Maryanne
reached over and kissed me full on the lips just as
that same stewardess returned with our meals. Now she
looked really confused.

Maryanne teasingly told her that I was married to both
of them, but that sometimes Gina’s husband did not
accompany us on some of our missions for the church. We
left it at that… I think that that stewardess came to
the conclusion that we were Mormon or something and we
did not pursue it. She also exhibited some Lesbian
tendencies when she talked to Gina.

She did not seem to remember me, but I remembered
her…on an earlier flight she had inadvertently
dropped something from the food cart and had bent over
to pick it up, right in front of my face as I had
appeared to be dozing. When she bent over, her split-
in-the-back skirt did its splitting and I was facing
bare ass and cunt…obviously she did not believe in
wearing underwear.

That would stand to reason… most of the time these
stewardesses worked behind closed curtains on the
airplane and if two of them were Lesbian, the absence
of panties would aid tremendously in their chanced
sexual satisfaction when they were supposed to be
working. Shortly after we finished our meal we were
leaving Greenland’s airspace and in a short time we
could look out to our left and see Iceland off in the
distant.

Maryanne and I then sat down and reclined our seats and
Gina laid the airline blanket over us. I reached down
to Maryanne’s legs and soon was cupping her naked pubic
mound, as she reached into my Bermuda shorts and pulled
out my cock and began stroking it to hardness. I could
feel my cum building and then I was bathing her hand in
it. She pulled her hand up to her face and Gina reached
over after she saw what was going on, and the two of
them licked off all my thick syrupy cream and swallowed
it.

My “edge” had been removed, and now I slipped off to
sleep once more, to leave the women to their own
devices of sexual satisfaction. I awoke to Gina’s
exclamation of once again seeing land coming ‘up’
beneath us and looked down to see the upper islands
north of Scotland coming into view. I turned to
Maryanne and told her that unless we did it quick that
she would not get to experience shots of cum at 450
miles per hour at 40,000 feet like she had asked for in
Seattle.

With that she got up and headed for the lavatory,
beckoning me to join her in a few minutes. When I got
there she had removed her skirt and was bare from the
waist down, and was sitting on the wash basin. I barely
had the room to get into that lavatory with her there,
and I sat down on the closed lid of the toilet seat and
removed my Bermuda shorts and underwear.

My cock was once again hard and I pulled this lovely
Mommy of my son onto my lap with my cock slipping deep
into her baby nest. We began a series of hard, fast
pistoning and I soon felt my cum erupt from my balls
and begin to shoot into her depths. It was not shot at
450 miles per hour, though, that was the speed of the
airplane as I shot it into her in thick volleys. She
finally understood that. We cleaned each other off and
then she put her skirt back on and emerged back into
the cabin to rejoin Gina.

A short time later I joined both of them as we began a
short brunch somewhere over northern Scotland. We found
out that in our absence that our pilot had visited to
visit with Gina, and had asked if she wanted to visit
the cockpit for awhile. She declined saying that flying
was not her cup of tea, even though her husband was an
Air Force pilot.

In reality she thought that perhaps he was a bit horny
and after she and I had been fucking she felt that
these nerds had little to offer in issues of love or
lust. We began to feel the airplane start its descent
into London and Heathrow Airport, as the pilot turned
on the airbrakes and we began to slow down
considerably.

Then before we hardly knew it I looked out and saw the
Houses of Parliament and Big Ben slipping below our
wing. The pilot did a steep bank and soon we were
leveling off to gradually descend down onto the runway
at Heathrow. We had spent just a little over 9 hours in
the air… good time coming from Seattle. The Captain
advised that we had experienced a tail wind most of the
way across of about 50 kilometers per hour which
increased our airspeed tremendously.

We were soon through British Customs and then were
converting our U.S. dollars into British Pounds. I
could see right away that these women were going to
have a bit of a problem… they were confusing a
British Pound to equal one American Dollar when in fact
the exchange rate was One Pound equals $1.60.

I decided that until they got more used to that
conversion rate that they could spend their own money,
until at least we got to Glastonbury. That way they
could observe how I did and maybe learn from it. I then
called my car rental company and in no time at all they
delivered a brand new sky blue Jaguar estate wagon. We
only had brought a couple of smaller suitcases and I
quickly place them in the boot.

We all climbed into the car and soon I was on the M4
headed West. It was now 1 p.m. and we had about 4 hours
of driving to get to Glastonbury, plus another hour or
so to allow for stopping getting something to eat or
take pee breaks. The women could not get over us
driving on the “wrong side” of the road, but of course
it was almost second nature to me as I had lived over
here in the Air Force for nearly 4 years and had been
back several times on church business at Glastonbury,
plus each time I came back I visited friends near RAF
Lakenheath and near Northampton that were almost
“family” to me.

Chapter 5

We stopped about an hour later on the M4 at a rest stop
just outside of Swindon. The women had never seen a
British “freeway” rest stop before. They are like small
villages, with several restaurants, restrooms and
shops, and petrol stations, with large parking lots.

Once again, Maryanne was “coaching” me to “get back on
the right side of the road as I drove into the lot to
park. The women definitely had to pee so I waited for
them to come back out and then we decided to order a
small brunch as the airline had fed us so much without
us doing much exercise on the airplane.

Since I was driving I did not order a beer but they
each had a couple of light ales. And then we were on
the road again, it was about 3:30 p.m by that time. We
got to the M5 near Bristol and headed south. Maryanne
was positive… I was going to get us all killed by
driving on the “wrong” side of the road as I went
through that interchange. Gina calmed her fears and
told her to relax, that all she had to do was to
remember that we drove in England just ass-backwards to
how we drive in Seattle. That seemed to relax her a bit
and we heard no more from her about my “dangerous
driving”.

It was just a short drive on the M5 and I saw the signs
to Glastonbury and the A30. The A30 is not a freeway
and it reminds me a lot of Stevens Pass, except it does
not go over a mountain pass. Roads in England that are
2-laned often resemble a country road in the States
with their overflowing trees that cover the entire
roadway so that one gets an idea that they are driving
through a tunnel of sorts of greenery.

From almost the time we turned off the M5, we could
look out to the distant and see the familiar St.
Michael’s church tower of Glastonbury Tor. At first it
does not appear overly large, but as you draw nearer to
it the Tor is really quite a hill, sticking up out of
the surrounding English countryside of the Somerset
plains. And then we were in Street, almost a suburb of
Glastonbury if Glastonbury still existed as a viable
economic center any more. Instead, Street has become
that with Glastonbury being more of a tourist Mecca and
religious and cultural center without much economic
activity.

We arrived in Glastonbury at 5:30 p.m. local time which
was just 14:30 hours after we had left Seattle. The
women were “bushed” and I could tell that there wasn’t
going to be much fucking tonight. I found the B&B that
I normally stay at and the Filipina manager welcomed me
with open arms.

She was very happy that I had brought along these women
as she knew that when I visited previously that I had
often been a little more than horny. She said that the
last time I had been here that she had almost come
upstairs to my room and fucked me and would have
because her husband had been scheduled to work that
particular night, but at the last minute he had gotten
off work.

She, too, was a bit horny as her Bloke husband did not
want to fuck anymore after the birth of their son 9
years previously and she sooo wanted a little girl. I
told her that I could not do her any good, that these
“wives” of mine were also trying to keep me for
themselves. I could sense her disappointment. The women
did not want anything else to eat before they went to
bed.

They determined that Maryanne should sleep by herself
in the single bed and that I and Gina would share the
bed together in the other room. We all got undressed
and were soon laying in bed naked, getting ready to go
to sleep. Gina cuddled into my naked arms and legs,
murmuring how appreciative she felt of being my lover,
my secretary and now bed mate.

I made a mental note to myself that as soon as we
returned to Seattle that she would soon also become my
legal wifey, and told her so. She was overjoyed and of
course accepted, and said that we had to do something
about that by her leaving England with me pregnant with
my baby.

The next morning I awoke to somewhat familiar
surroundings. I knew that Viola’s husband always left
for work early on his bicycle, so I slipped on my
bathrobe and slipped downstairs to find the morning
paper. I glanced into the kitchen and there was Viola
also in her bathrobe, beginning to fix our Breakfasts.

She did not see me and I quietly snuck up on her, my
robe untied and flowing loosely around my nakedness. I
reached around her and nuzzled her neck, surprising her
at first and then she was turning in my arms against my
nakedness, her own robe falling open and my hard cock
was poking her in her little Filipino tummy. I kissed
her full on the lips in true French wantonness, and
backed off asking her if she still wanted to have a
baby daughter.

We gently slid to the floor and she did not have to
answer vocally… her hot wetness engulfed my hard cock
and I was soon pumping my fishies deep against her
cervix. As it turned out, she was ovulating and yes,
she “caught”. A couple of months later I got a note in
the mail that I was going to be a new daddy. Her
husband was pissed, and soon left her afterwards in a
divorce.

In England, Adultery is not grounds for divorce, but
desertion is, and he had deserted her, so she ended up
with the B&B with child support payments from him for
their son, and unmarried mother allowance for our
daughter because the British government could not
identify any man that had the same DNA origins as our
daughter.

I had “fed” her my cum and sperm… later on that
morning she fed us our Breakfasts. While Adultery
exists in England, legal norms against it does not. In
fact it is more or less considered just another form of
communication and the sex that accompanies it is looked
upon as little more than a common handshake or kiss.
Somehow in the early days of colonization of America
from England of the religious communities coming to New
York, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, etc., those
religious holy rollers were bound and determined that
anything sexually satisfying was to be considered a
sin. Oftentimes their leaders had attracted and married
young beautiful women, and while the husband was out
preaching in the wilderness the poor little lady was
left home alone.

Those young farm boys also got horny, and on more than
one occasion the preacher husband returned home after a
2-3 day sojourn with the young wife seeping some other
guy’s cum from her vulva lips, with of course her tummy
beginning to grow from an implanted seed.

These preachers had to do something about this so the
appropriate laws were passed and at first those guilty
were made an example of. It rapidly became not so
popular to be caught in bed with someone not your
lawfully wedded wife or husband. Guilty pregnant wives
were often locked into an apparatus that prevented them
from moving, bent over forward and forcibly fucked in
their ass, and then pissed on.

If they could catch or determine who the natural daddy
was, the guy got castrated without benefit of medical
attention and most of them bled to death. To put all
this into a nutshell, word got out that it was not nice
to fuck another’s wife or husband!

In England, on the other hand, the English had never
learned this. Pubs were popular places for debauchery
and drinking and the more people drank oftentimes the
looser they became. The micro-miniskirt came into being
and a nice looking young lass on a barstool with too
many warm Watney Red Barrel mugs of beer often created
a scenario that was conducive to opening lines of
possible romantic venturing that would never have been
attempted without the assistance of all that alcohol.

Husbands and wives often ventured to the local pub
together, leaving their kids (if they had any) to the
accompaniment of the telly and some science fiction
show. The game of Darts is a popular pastime in an
English Pub, with the losers buying a round of drinks
at each setting. Oftentimes there would be 10-15
settings in a single night. Common math would “have”
Darts players consuming as much as a gallon of beer
apiece in one night.

Many times the wife did not play Darts, but her husband
did, but each time that a match was lost the beer
included buying one for the wife as well. So she would
sit at the bar, on her barstool, getting mildly
intoxicated while her hubby got sauced. It only took a
little common sense to understand that for some bloke
that did not play Darts that wanted to fuck a young
wife, had ample opportunity to be able to enjoy the
charms of some young beauty while her husband was
passed out from drinking too much beer.

Usually about 30 minutes before closing time, these
young lechers would appear and with a little skillful
seduction the young wife would be soon walking out of
the pub, headed home “to check on the kiddies”. Of
course the hubby was still engrossed in his Darts game
and barely heard her and when the Darts game was over
he was too drunk to even make it to the door to go
home. Meanwhile the young horny sober gentleman was
escorting the young wife home, feeling her up at every
opportunity.

Many times panties were left on the sidewalk, mini-
skirts were barely hanging on from getting unzipped and
blouses were unbuttoned by the time the young wife got
to her front door. Of course the kids were in bed
asleep and the young wife and her new “boyfriend” were
engaged in a process known as trying to make a new
baby, in her own conjugal bed. And long before the pub
opened the next morning the previously passed out
husband was trying to find his way home in his hangover
condition, and the “boyfriend” had long split the scene
of impregnation.

When I had served in the Air Force previously at RAF
Lakenheath, I had become acquainted with Sammy and Liz.
Sammy was a lush, but a good Darts player. He had
married Liz who had already been pregnant and had given
birth to a baby that she did not know who the natural
daddy was. Liz loved to fuck. Sammy liked to fuck as
well, but he also liked to drink himself silly and as
such he rarely was in the kind of shape that his dick
would get hard and stay that way long enough to
impregnate Liz. I knew these two for nearly 4 years and
in the process she had had at least one of my babies (a
son) and babies from yet 2 more GIs.

Then she discovered that Africans had larger cocks so
she just had to “try one”. She had a baby girl that was
half Black. That did it for Sammy who was Irish/Welsh,
and he left town. The last I saw of her she had been
fucking yet another nigger who had also knocked her up.
She collected child support from Sammy who was her
husband when I and the other GIs got her pregnant, and
probably got the Dole from the British government on
the half-Black bastards she got from fucking those
niggers because they had rotated back to the States and
no DNA could be collected to prove paternity.

After we had finished our Breakfasts, I took the women
over to the Abbey. Actually the Abbey grounds bordered
the back yard of our Bed and Breakfast flat, but we had
to go out onto the street and walk about a block and
half to get to the front entrance of the Abbey. There
we met the Archbishop.

I introduced him to my “wives”. Then we went into the
small sanctuary, St. Patrick’s Chapel, that was used
for remembrance type services and he introduced me to
the people from Bristol who were going to provide our
bus service. There were several minor discrepancies to
work out, but they were mostly due to
misunderstandings. We quickly resolved them and then we
were free to do what we wanted to do. I took the women
around the ancient Abbey, explaining to them the
significance of various locations… the ancient
cemetery, the lower levels that consisted of the
original wattlewood church that Jesus built and the
artesian well that was used for drinking water and
baptisms. The Glastonbury Thorn tree that was developed
from the original “shoot” that had grown out of Joseph
of Arimathea’s staff as he poked it into the ground on
Wearyall Hill which at that time was the shoreline of
the ancient England.

I showed them the gravesite where King Arthur’s body
had been found, and explained the location of the 12
Stations of the Cross that we used for our Pilgrimage
services each year. I then took them inside the
Glastonbury Abbey Museum where there is a display and
model of the original Glastonbury Abbey as it appeared
before the fire destroying it about 1200 A.D. Adjacent
to the Museum was a curio shop and bookstore where
items could be bought.

In its heyday, Glastonbury Abbey was considered to be
the largest and most wealthiest cathedral in all of
Europe. It was THE center of Christianity… considered
at that time to what we thought of the Vatican today,
but much, much larger. To modern Christians the Vatican
is considered to be little more than a paganistic
temple.

The alleged St. Peter, St. Paul were poor examples of
what Jesus THE Christ had left behind to teach
Christianity, and there was ongoing developing truth
attached to them that they could very well have been
social misfits that pretty much robbed the Christian
thought from Joseph of Arimathea and Jesus’ brother
James. There is ample evidence to show that “Paul” was
little more than a magician.

In the museum there was documentary evidence that the
Saxon King of what would become England, Arviragus, had
deeded 12-160 acres (hides) of land, or about 1920
acres, to Joseph of Arimathea when he returned from
Palestine with the Disciples after the Crucifixion.
This land has never been taxed to this day by any
British government authority. Most of the land that
surrounds Somerset and Cornwall to an extent, today is
owned by Prince Charles of the British royalty, with
occupier leases for the people that use it.

Charles retains the mineral rights and other natural
resources developments. It is somewhat ironic that
Prince William will eventually inherit this wealth, as
we will see later in another chapter, through the
proven bloodlines that Prince William has to inherit it
because of his bloodline extending through his maternal
grandfather the Earl Spencer to Jesus and King David.

For reasons obvious, this is not a popular thought
amongst Roman Catholics, and they do not like to be
reminded that Joseph of Arimathea had little or nothing
to do with the ancient Roman Empire and its paganistic
practices, because he was a very practiced Jew. Even
the King of England at the time was a Druid and had no
real belief in the Roman Catholicism that we find today
was highly relative to Greek and Roman paganism.

I took the women on up to the Chalice Well. This is yet
another mysterious location and it readily will make a
believer out of you. It is said that Joseph of
Arimathea secretly brought back the Cup of the Last
Supper from Palestine, and dropped it into this Chalice
Well. From that time onwards, this well pours forth a
reddish tinted spring water on one side that has great
medicinal purities in it, as well as clear spring water
from yet another side, both sides having the same
source of supply.

Prince Charles once fell from his horse playing Polo
and broke his arm. Buckingham Palace sent him here and
he lay in a large pool of this red tinted water for
about 30 minutes and his arm was rapidly healed. People
that visit here are often seen drinking this water…
every time I come here I end up bringing at least a
gallon of it home with me in plastic bottles, for
medicinal purposes. For many years I smoked, and could
not seem to kick that habit. I sipped some of that
Chalice Well water on my first visit here and lost all
desire to smoke a cigarette afterwards.

The area surrounding the Chalice Well seems
concentrated with a spiritual blessing. The women could
feel this as we entered it. Gina made a comment to the
effect that she could almost feel the need to get
pregnant as soon as she stepped into the presence of
that well. Maryanne said that her nipples on her
breasts were creating special flashes of horniness as
soon as we came to that well. There is an adjacent
seating area that is rather private for those that wish
to partake of it and so I took the women there. As soon
as we were inside and seated, those women attacked me.

Gina said afterwards that she definitely had been told
by some spirit that it was time for her to conceive
with me. We continued on up to the Glastonbury Tor. The
Tor was considered by most people visiting here to be
the central point of the Mother Earth for rites of
fertility. Just about on any given day or night it was
rare that at least one pussy wasn’t getting fertilized
by some cock, in most cases there would be 5-10, some
of which were even getting pregnant. There seemed to be
no measure of discrimination of selections.

Many people got into various stages of dress or undress
and simply fucked the nearest pussy or cock, regardless
of whom it belonged to. This was probably the most
erotic place on all the earth and was definitely the
end to celebrate God’s plan to populate the Earth, in
an idealistic sense. Far from being the ideal, though,
was the very real scenario that a lot of this fucking
produced drug-related birth defects, a lot of venereal
disease, pregnancies with no viable identification of
who the natural daddy(s) were, etc.

Humankind had taken a beautiful thing called the human
body and sex and had just about destroyed it. The women
both advised that they once again felt the need to
reproduce as soon as we reached the top of the Tor. We
stripped naked and lay out on the grass. Some young
pothead hippie that apparently thought the women were
ripe for fucking, came over, his dick swinging. He
confronted Maryanne and she told him “No!”, on no
uncertain terms. He persisted and when Maryanne
finished with him he was lucky to have been able to
swing his dick…she hauled off and kicked him with her
bare foot as hard as she could.

He doubled over in pain in his stoned condition, got
the message and could not retreat fast enough. Other
hippies saw this and they all quickly backed away from
us, leaving us to our own little partying mood. I then
fucked Maryanne and shot my volleys into her fertility.
My cock surprised me as once it deflated from fucking
Maryanne it began to harden again, and I slipped into
Gina as well.

The fertility God assisted by the Ley Lines connecting
the Tor to Stonehenge and other ancient Druid sites had
obviously helped me to regain my vitality so that I
could possibly impregnate both of my “wives”. By the
time I finished both women were seeping my sperm from
their vulva lips. I had an idea that today both of them
were surely pregnant if they hadn’t “caught” already.

They seemed overjoyed as we descended that hill. That
same fertility god had once again visited upon me and
my cock renewed itself in hardness, but we had to go…
we had many things to do yet, today.

I then took them to Wearyall Hill, the ancient Ynys
Writin, and showed them the site where Joseph of
Arimathea landed in ancient Somerset with Jesus’ wives
Mary Magdelene and Martha and their children, and the
Mother Mary, and Lazarus, whom He had raised from the
dead. This was marked by the Glastonbury Thorn Tree
that grew from Joseph’s staff that he stuck into the
ground as he stepped from the ship that was carrying
him.

This tree has been found to be the only one of its kind
to survive from an origin in Palestine of this species.
There have been attempts to take shoots from that kind
of tree in Palestine to various places throughout the
world, and none will grow. But when shoots from this
tree are planted elsewhere they do grow…the one in
the grounds of the Washington (DC) Cathedral, the one
on the ancient Glastonbury Abbey grounds, and one at
Buckingham Palace.

It is almost as if God has chosen Glastonbury to be the
place for Joseph’s staff to take root and then to
spread from there the growing of this tree. Very few
people take into consideration the growth of this tree.
It is located on a small hill that does not offer any
significance as one enters Glastonbury from the West.
It looks more like a bit of a cow pasture and often has
cattle grazing on it. In the year 2002 it was
quarantined from the outbreak of Hoof and Mouth disease
from livestock and no one was allowed on it.

In God’s Trustee Plan we find that He works in the long
term. He often takes centuries to set up certain events
or circumstances. A neat little study is listing God’s
Trustees or Protectorates throughout the last four
thousand years. First came Joseph, the eleventh son of
Jacob. God sent him to Egypt twenty-one years before
Jacob came with his family from famine ravaged Canaan.
Twenty-one years!

Jeremiah was given Trusteeship of the Throne and the
bloodline of David. He brought King Zedekiah’s daughter
Tea Tephi to Ireland in order to join the two lines of
Judah, the Pharez line in Tea and the Zarah line in
Eochaidh, high king of Ireland. This happened in 583 BC
and was part of God’s preparation of the land to which
the House of Israel would migrate. The Davidic
bloodline would be woven through all the kings and
queens of northwest Europe as a result of the marriage
of those two. But five hundred years earlier, God had
already placed Brutus in England. He founded New Troy
(London) about 1100 BC. Talk about planning ahead!

We could also talk of Tobit, and especially Queen
Esther, whom God placed in Persia to protect the
captive Jews. We might even mention English kings
Arviragus and Caradoc. Arviragus would become God’s
“Protectorate” for the Cradle of Christianity,
Glastonbury. It was Arviragus who gifted Joseph and his
companions twelve 160 acre parcels of land, tax free
forever. Caradoc, Pendragon of England, would become
God’s “Protectorate” of the fledgling Roman Christian
Church; the church Paul wrote to. Caradoc spent seven
years “house arrest” before returning to Britain. It
was his children who were the core of the Roman church.

There are volumes be said about the pioneering of the
Tribe of Dan, as they (the Phoenicians) established
trade routes from China to south America, and
reconnoitered the migration route of the Lost Tribes
west across Europe. Look at all the “Dn” names on the
rivers. There’s the Danube, the Dneiper, the Don, and
on. Why there are three Don rivers in the British
Isles! Those Danite\Phoenicians tacked up their name
everywhere they went. Just like they did in the Bible
when they conquered a town and changed the name to
Mahanedan (Judges 18:12)

Lastly, let me point to Daniel. God set up Daniel to
run the Babylonian government during the time of the
Exile. God sticks to a winning plan. He set up a
Trustee for Christianity as well. And please notice
that these Trustees are highly educated, highly
situated, and most of them were pretty good looking,
too. Joseph of Arimathea has been called one of the
richest men in the world. He inherited that tin trade
from his fellow Israelites; the Phoenicians.

They had been bringing ore from England for centuries.
Joseph was well educated, a member of the ruling
political body of the whole country. He was well placed
as “Noblis Decurio”, a minister of mines for the Roman
empire, with direct access to Pilate himself. Joseph of
Arimathea was no slouch. How better to protect Jesus,
after Joseph the carpenter died, and insure the seeding
and growth of the Gospel in England; the place to which
the scattered House of Israel would continue to migrate
for the next eleven centuries?

The prophecies of this migration are in just about all
the prophetic books of the Old Testament. But read the
book of Hosea if you want to see the history of the
Celts and Scythians/House of Israel/Lost Tribes. Joseph
of Arimathea, in his Jewish roots of Cornwall, had
simply taken his family’s possessions of tin, marble
and zinc in their natural states, and done something
with them, and had gotten quite wealthy.

He had developed a small one- or two-boat fleet into a
large 200+ sailing vessels fleet to haul that ore from
its origins in Cornwall, most of it hand dug on the
seashore or out of seaside cliffs such as is found at
St. Agnes, to the northern shores of France,
transported overland to the South of France and then on
to Palestine, the Suez where some of it was transported
once again overland to the Gulf of Suez and then
carried yet again to the distant ports of Shanghai,
Bombay, Busan, Yokohama and Kaoshiung for the brass-
making that made those locales rich.

The “crude by today’s standards” loading docks in the
bay at Penzance (sometimes spelled Pennzance) between
St. Michael’s Mount and the English village of Marazion
composed of large rocks rising from the sandy beach
when the tide is out were very useful. When the tide
was out, this ore was hauled in to the bases of these
rocks and placed into floating barge-like containing
docks with wheels and as the tide came in they were
wheeled onto those large rocks that had been hewn out
into loading platforms.

Then when the tide reached its maximum in depth, the
sailing vessels would be hurriedly brought up against
those rocks and the ore would be transferred onto them
in a pulley/rope apparatus worked by human labor.
Documents discovered at the modern sea museum at Newlyn
show that sometimes it took over a month to load all
the ore from St. Agnes and Mindip that was hauled in to
this bay by donkey and oxen-pulled carts onto as many
as 20 or 30 of Joseph of Arimathea’s sailing vessels.
Oftentimes the young adolescent Jesus accompanied his
uncle in this operation, and worked on the wattlewood
home he was building for the Mother Mary while that ore
was being transported from St. Agnes to Penzance.

In their zealous activity to degrade the truth about
the real Christianity as it had been portrayed in Rome,
the Roman Catholic Church had hidden all this from the
Western world. It is interesting to note that when
God’s truth is tainted by paganistic authority, often
God shows revenge in some way. Reference the pedophile
behavior of the Roman Catholic Church that is getting a
lot of attention today in our news media, some of it so
bad that it is causing whole parishes to have to shut
down because of lawsuits.

It is also interesting to note that “Point Zero” of the
Hiroshima Atomic Bomb in WWII was none other than the
Jewish Temple in Japan where Jesus had visited with his
Uncle Joseph of Arimathea on one of these cargo-
carrying expeditions. The Roman Catholic ideological
persuasions could no longer afford as mass
communications emerged to have any existing evidence of
this, so that when the determination to bomb Japan to
end WWII was made, what better place to drop that bomb.

No one can convince me that Stalin, Roosevelt,
Churchill and the Vatican were not in cahoots with each
other. The poorly developed media at the time simply
did not have the expertise to investigate all this and
report on it like what might be done today. And there
was no asshole Texan by the name of George W. Bush Jr.,
to pass a “patriot act” to stifle criticism against
assholes in the government.

Chapter 6

In all this recent exposure these two young wives, one
of which was already a mommy, began developing
indications that they were thinking along the lines of
being more, much more, than a willing bed partner to
me. While they remained very erotic acting and would
not hesitate to lay on some grassy knoll in nature and
open their legs wide to receive what I had to give
them, they were doing things that made me becoming
convinced that they surely wanted more than just my
sperm planted in their hot little bellies, they were
becoming concerned that that sperm coupled with their
eggs would produce a baby that would be conceived in
the same place as the early Christians had been
conceived. They seemed to get just that much more
erotic and wanton in their desires of my cock.

As we ventured onto Ynys Witrin both Maryanne and Gina
kept scanning the surrounding area for other people.
Finding none, when we reached the original Thorn tree,
it was evident… if they had been naked I would have
seen their vulva lips engorged with blood from being
“in heat”.

I was practically raped under that tree by both of
them. Afterwards we lay there in our naked bliss,
letting our sex juices permeat our nakedness to dry
into a crust on my cock and balls and their freshly
fucked pussies. It was a good thing that they had not
worn panties, as their panties would have been soaked
on the way back down from that Wearyall Hill from all
my cum seeping from their baby nests. That crusting of
dryness on my cock and balls from those cum and pussy
spendings was making my crotch itch in the worst way!

They went on ahead to the museum’s store where they
wanted to buy some items of memory from this trip. I
kissed them both and asked them to make sure that they
knew how to get back to the Bed and Breakfast where we
were staying. They assured me they did, as they turned
and began walking towards the museum, talking and
giggling like a couple of teenaged girls.

I got back to the Bed and Breakfast and decided to
shower, clean up. As I came back down the stairs and
started to go into the bathroom, Viola’s door opened
and there she stood in all her lovely Filipina
nakedness. She advised that her husband had come home
and taken their son and had headed over to the Rugby
field where there was a game going on between Street
and one of the other nearby towns. My bathrobe dropped
to the floor and soon she was in my naked arms once
more. We dropped to the floor and once again that day I
was ensuring her that her womb was going to begin
growing our baby girl from the seeds I was planting in
her.

That night when the women returned, Viola fixed us all
an excellent meal of Fish n Chips. In England, Fish n
Chips are totally unlike what we find in the States
with a few paltry pieces of fish with heavy batter and
a small fist-sized bag of french fries. In England if
you order Fish n Chips, plan on being extremely hungry.
Your fish will consist of deep-fried fish in heavy
batter but your fish will be at least 2 inches thick
and will cover your entire dinner plate by itself. It
is virtually impossible to finish off both the Fish and
the French Fries, in one setting.

The English do not use lemon to spread on their fish,
instead they use a form of vinegar oil, which makes the
fish taste much better. Needless to say after all our
fucking for the day, when we finished eating we were
good for one thing… the bed and a good night’s sleep,
as tomorrow morning we would leave Glastonbury where I
would take the women further down the coast of Cornwall
and show them the ancient tin mines that both Joseph of
Arimathea and the young Jesus worked in to support
Joseph’s tin trade with the ancient commerce his
vessels carried from England to France and then
overland across France and from France to Egypt,
overland across the Suez, and then from the Suez to
India, Burma, China, Korea and Japan where the tin ore
was smelted with iron ore to give us the brass we so
value today in artwork.

I also planned to take them to the Jesus Well just
northeast of Padstow where Joseph’s ships were
replenished with fresh water for their long journeys,
and then on down to Pennzance and St. Michael’s Mount
where they could see a very real castle that sets high
on a natural barrier that was totally inaccessible
until the airplane was invented. And of course we had
to yet see Stonehenge and Southampton, the latter where
most of our English forefathers left to come to the
USA, and the last port (and only one) sailing of the
Titanic before it sunk off Newfoundland on that awful
ship disaster.

As we left Glastonbury early that next morning, I tried
to educate these young beautiful creatures more about
what God had taught us about Him and His son, Jesus.
The average person is so well inoculated with the
belief that Christianity was first established by the
Roman Catholic Church at Rome, and that Britain first
received the faith through St. Augustine, AD 597, that
they take it for granted. Wasn’t the Roman Catholic
Church established in the fourth century, well after
the death of Constantine? Between Christ’s death and
the establishment of the Roman Catholic Church lay
centuries.

Was Christianity waiting around for Constantine to
Christianize the Roman Empire and then die? Surely the
missionary work begun by the Apostles continued. But
where? The history of the Roman Catholic Church itself
testifies that England preceded itself in the
establishment of Christianity.

The average person is so well inoculated with the
belief that Christianity was first established by the
Roman Catholic Church at Rome, and that Britain first
received the faith through St. Augustine, AD 597, that
they take it for granted. Wasn’t the Roman Catholic
Church established in the fourth century, well after
the death of Constantine?

Between Christ’s death and the establishment of the
Roman Catholic Church lay centuries. Was Christianity
waiting around for Constantine to Christianize the
Roman Empire and then die? Surely the missionary work
begun by the Apostles continued. But where? The history
of the Roman Catholic Church itself testifies that
England preceded itself in the establishment of
Christianity.

The basic story of Joseph’s trip to England varies in
some details from account to account. But the bare
facts are that Joseph, with many disciples travelled
from the holy land by boat and landed at Marseilles, in
the Vienoise province of the Gauls (France). From there
he went on to England established seminaries, sent out
missionaries, and helped in the conversion of the Royal
family. In his “Ecclesiastical Annals”, Cardinal
Baronius, Curator of the Vatican library, gives this
account.

“In that year the party mentioned was exposed to the
sea in a vessel without sails or oars. The vessel
drifted finally to Marseilles and they were saved. From
Marseilles Joseph and his company passed into Britain
and after preaching the Gospel there, died.”

The reason for the boat having been set adrift, was
that the Jews wanted to get rid of these Christians,
but couldn’t get away with murder. How many of the
disciples were with Joseph of Arimathea during his
short stay in Gaul, before going on to England, is hard
to say.

Various existing records agree in part with the
Cardinal Baronius record, naming among the occupants of
the castaway boat Mary Magdlene, Martha, the hand-
maiden Marcella, Lazarus whom Jesus raised from the
dead, and Maximin the man whose sight Jesus restored.
Other records state that Philip and James accompanied
Joseph. Others report that Mary, the wife of Cleopas,
and Mary, the mother of Jesus; were also in the boat.
Here’s Baronius’ complete list of passengers:

Mary, wife of Cleopas; a very pregnant Martha-second
wife of Jesus; Lazarus, Eutropius, Salome the
handmaiden, Cleon, Saturninus, Mary Magdalene, first
wife of Jesus and mother of with Jesus’ first son
Josephus; Marcella, the Bethany sisters’ maid; second
son of Jesus and Mary Magdelene Maximin, Martial, first
son of Jesus and Martha; Trophimus, Sidonius
(Restitutus), and Joseph of Arimathea. And true to
God’s way, Philip was waiting for the travellers in
France.

There is a wealth of uncontroversial testimonies
asserting his commission in Gaul, all of which alike
state that he received and consecrated Joseph,
preparatory to his embarkation and appointment as the
Apostle to Britain. In future chapters to this story we
will find that the present Princes William and Harry of
England are descendants of Josephus, above, through
their mother, the late Dianna, Princess of Wales, and
the Spencer family, which would make them descendants
of the King David of old.

Although there are some who would argue for France
being first, most records agree that Britain, at
Glastonbury was the Root of the Christian movement. One
would expect that history would show that the
missionary activities would flow out of the well-spring
of Christianity. And well does history record this.

The Gaulic records state that for centuries the
Archbishops of Treves and Rheims were all Britons
supplied by the mother church at Glastonbury-Avalon.
St. Cadval, a famed British missionary, going out from
Glastonbury, founded the church of Tarentum, Italy,
A.D. 170. Did you notice that this was four hundred
years before St. Augustine? And as we’ll see later,
even this date was at least fourteen years after King
Lucius Christianized all of Britain in A.D. 156!!!
Nobody really wants to play “Who was First” with the
British.

Converts literally flooded into Glastonbury for
conversion, baptism, instruction and missionary
assignment. Philip sent, from Gaul alone, one hundred
sixty disciples to assist Joseph and his team with the
crowds. And it is surely known that helpers were sent
from other places beside France.

One of the first to go out from Glastonbury was Mary
and Martha’s brother Lazarus. He headed straight back
to Marseilles where he held the Bishopric for seven
years. But that was only natural. France was a Family
Thing for the Bethany household. Mary and Martha both
lived out their lives, preaching and teaching in the
south of France.

“The Coming of The Saints,” by Taylor is a good book on
the subject. Many famous names are recorded as having
been associated with Glastonbury-Avalon. Sidonis,
Saturninus, and Cleon taught and supported other
missionaries in Gaul, then returned to Britain.

Martial’s parents, Marcellus and Elizabeth were there
along with St Zacchaeus. Many faithful Judeans moved to
Britain.

Parmena, disciple of Joseph, was appointed the first
Bishop of Avignon. Drennalus, helped Joseph found the
church at Morlaix. He was then appointed to Treguier as
it’s first Bishop.

Beatus founded the church in Helvetia, after receiving
his baptism and education at Avalon.

Beatus was baptised by St. Barnabas, the brother of
Aristobulus, sent in advance by St.

Paul to Britain. He is referred to in scripture as
Joses, the Levite. Mansuetus was consecrated the first
Bishop of the Lotharingians A.D. 49, with his See at
Toul. He also founded the church at Lorraine.

Historical note:

Mansuetus was a constant visitor at the Palace of the
British at Rome after Claudia had married Pudens. He
was a friend of Linus, the first Bishop of Rome, and
brother of Claudia. After the death of St. Clement,
Mansuetus became the third official Bishop of the
British Church at Rome. Thus we have three disciples of
Avalon, instructed by St. Joseph, to become, in
succession, Bishops of Rome.

Iltigius, in “De Patribus Apostolicis”, quotes St.
Peter as saying; “Concerning the Bishops who have been
ordained in our lifetime, we make known to you that
they are these. Of Antioch, Eudoius, ordained by me,
Peter. Of the Church of Rome, Linus, son of Claudia,
was first ordained by Paul, and after Linus’s death,
Clemens the second, ordained by me, Peter.”

There were surely some very erotic times in those early
days. Any kind of research will reveal a lot of mate
swapping and carrying on that would make Linda Lovelace
of the movie “Deep Throat”, blush. Those early tribal
men and women often satisfied themselves at mealtimes,
drank their fill of red wine and beer, and laid back to
feast once more on hard dicks and wet pussies, without
concern about who “belonged” to whom.

A cunt was made for fucking and a dick was made to
plunder that cunt. If the cunt got filled and it just
happened to be the right time of the month, a baby was
formed, otherwise the inter-connecting party(s) would
simply rest up and maybe fuck another person the next
day or night. We only got to know strict marital
responsibilities with Victorian England, led by the
queen that bore that name, in the late 15th century…
a full 1500 years after all this debauchery.

There are some very good superficial reasons why all
this took place in England. Because of Joseph’s
merchant business it was a known location, where Royal
friends could help, and far from persecution. The
deeper levels of meaning require broader levels of
perspective.

Without going into detail again, I’ll mention that the
Lost Tribes were headquartered in Britain. Ephraim and
Judah, were already running the country. These folks,
and their cousins that would come in later, are the
very ones who God drafted to take His message to the
world. We’re looking at a plan that God set up to run
almost four thousand years ago.

He called Abraham to father the nation that would
supply the stock and the wealth for the Zarah line to
precede the Israelites into Europe, from whence they
would take the Message of Christ to the rest of the
world. Please remember when reading the following Bible
references that the House of Israel is distinct from
the House of Judah. All are Israelites (descendents of
Israel/Jacob), but only the Tribe of Judah are the
Jews. Although many of the Jews were scattered,
Jeremiah, in 50:17 is talking about the House of
Israel. We know from the context, in which he clearly
separates “the children Israel”, from the “children of
Judah.” (v.4,20)

Hosea echoes the scattering in chapter 1 verse 4.

First Peter is addressed to the “scattered
expatriates.” The places he names are just the
locations of Israelite groups of the northeast
Mediterranean. An astounding prophecy is made by the
High Priest Caiaphas in John 11:51-52. Jesus would die
for the Jewish nation AND the ones scattered abroad
Jesus says he has other sheep “not of this
(geographical Israel) fold.” John 10:16 Jesus says that
he is sent, and he sends his apostles to the “lost
sheep of the House of Israel.” Why not just say Israel?
Jesus was specifying a particular group of Israelites.
Looking up the word gentiles in Strong’s reveals the
definition, “a tribe; specifically a foreign(non-
Jewish) one.” The Jews of Jesus’ time called the Celts
and Scythians Gentiles, along with all the other folks
that didn’t worship God. Yet a few understood. Like
Peter and Paul.

Paul writes to the Roman Church. The church that was
headed up by the Royal British family, a few of which
were related to him by law. He says in, Romans 15:8-12,
that Jesus, as well as minister to “the circumcision”,
but also came that the Gentiles might Glorify God.

Can there be any doubt that Christianity flowed out of
Britain in the first century after the crucifixion? But
remember, Joseph of Arimathea was tied into the Royal
British family. It’s just an impossible piece of
history. The Roman Emperor who decrees death to all
Christians, becomes the wing under which the Church at
Rome flourishes. He gives his daughter in marriage to
the former British King, then adopts the daughter of
his fiercest enemy, the British king Caradoc. And all
this in the midst of the bloody war with Britain.

Chapter 7

We left Glastonbury at about 8 a.m. and travelled back
out the A39, to connect to the M5 south. We travelled
down through Taunton, to the A361, and out west to
Barnstaple where we began going south again on the A30
to Bude, and on down to Newquay, where there is a
larger naturist club that has easy access to naturist
(nudist) beaches. I had called ahead and reserved their
trailer they held for foreign tourists that were not
acclimatized to British raining and the Roselan Sun
Club was very accommodating to us. We had stopped and
purchased our Lunch and now were set up at this nudist
resort. Our trip had been a very enjoyable one, today,
but we were all horny as usual and soon we were naked
and fucking once more.

The Chefs allowed us plenty of time for our lovemaking
and then cooked up a Fish n Chips meal second to none.
There were several other couples there that were
British, German and Italian, but we were the only
Americans. After the meal, everyone took off for the
beach for a brief swim, and then sat around open
campfires visiting.

The management of the Club had fixed up a small bar and
we sat on beach chairs sipping lager n limes, until we
got so wasted that we made ourselves to our
accommodations before we did something stupid. The
German couples were displaying a lot of seduction
techniques on the rest of us. Gina made it clear that
she was not going to share either Maryanne or me with
anyone!

The next morning we retreated back up the A30 north to
the little town of Padstow and we managed to obtain a
room with two beds at the Bed & Breakfast flat I had
stayed on my first visit to Padstow and the landlady
had assisted me to find the old pastor that knew about
the Jesus Well. She was very happy to see me back and
commented that my wife (who I introduced Gina as to
her, with a big smile on Gina’s lips of course), and
our fellow researcher Maryanne were here to study the
Jesus Well further.

It was here that the Jesus Well is located and unless
you can study ancient England completely it is very
hard to realize the importance of this little spring.
It sets, in today’s world, a good 100 feet in elevation
higher than the ocean, but was the fresh water supply
point for Joseph of Arimathea’s fleet of sailing
vessels. It’s actual location is about 500 feet outside
of a little village called Rock, which consists mainly
of a Queen’s Post, and a golf course.

The Jesus Well itself is on the edge of the golf course
and its significance is hardly noticed because until
recently it was almost ignored. Then I came along, all
the way from the United States of America, and looked
it up and started chastising the British in general at
their almost disrespect by American standards of their
ancient sites. I must have made someone very very
embarrassed, because now I am finding websites on the
Internet that are dedicated to these sites.

There were 10 of these ancient locations where fresh
water was obtained by Jesus and Joseph of Arimathea in
their travels to and from Cornwall. The women were
amazed that I knew so much about this site. It is not
only a well of spring-like water supply, its immediate
locale was developed to a scene of permanence. Someone,
probably Jesus Himself, may have dug it out and then
built a small flintstone hut around it that includes a
flintstone/plastered roof.

Serious examination of it shows that nothing of wooden
or plant construction went into this hut… it is all
flintstone. Surrounding it to keep the wild animals and
grazing sheep and cattle out of it is yet another
flintstone wall that is about 3.5 feet high and about 2
feet thick, with a small gate-like entrance that one
must enter in a zigzag fashion and is so narrow that no
cow or sheep could ever pass through it.

In the Well itself is a Lily and I would suspect that
that Lily could well be at least as old as the Well
itself. No one was around there in the year 2001, so I
managed to stoop low and reach into the water and break
off a leaf from that lily. I have it at home with a
picture of the Well, over my fireplace encased in
plastic. Gina “just had” to bathe her naked beauty in
this Well. As soon as she got naked, Maryanne followed
and they were soon cavorting and skinny-dipping in this
cool spring water. I did not want to get in the water,
myself, but when they emerged, I was naked and waiting
for them.

The 3 of us definitely were looked upon in favor that
evening by whatever Spirits were there. Maryanne said
later that she could feel the presence of a holy image
as we lay on that grass fucking and squirming about in
what was then “holy intercourse” as I shot my seed deep
into their cervixes.

We returned to our Bed and Breakfast flat in Padstow.
The landlady had contacted the old pastor once more and
now he awaited our return from the Jesus Well. He was
very thankful that I had so decidedly refused to simply
pass the Well by, because he could so easily know its
historical value, and he felt that if an American was
interested enough to search it out then surely British
should properly identify it and put it under some kind
of protection.

He said that he had advised this to the Cornwall
Diocese of the Church of England and had been somewhat
amazed… they had gone off to the Archbishop of
Canterbury and funds had been released by HRH Queen
Elizabeth to work on a more permanent fitting and
recognition to these ancient sites. He had failed to
get my name on my last visit but he was correcting this
because the Archbishop had asked for it, and he was
phoning this information in to Canterbury that very
next day.

Of course the women had no idea that I had been so
esteemed and after the pastor left and we got to bed,
there was all sorts of activity for me to deposit my
now “enriched” sperm into their willing bellies!

The next day we left Padstow for the tin ore mines near
St. Agnes. When I had visited here before, I had had no
idea of what I would find in ancient mining diggings.
At first when I arrived I found a shale-like rock all
over the surface of the ground where the tin ore had
been dug from. I thought that perhaps this was the area
where Jesus and Joseph of Arimathea had worked, but the
mines themselves did not lend too much credence to
this.

All of this area was situated on a high shelf
overlooking a fine looking, sandy beach perhaps 300
feet below that shelf. Beaches always fascinate me so I
took a “breather” and walked down to the beach. Some
bloke recognized me as a Yank and wanted to know what I
was doing there. I explained to him about Joseph of
Arimathea’s tin trade and he chuckled and said that I
had found the place for it but it was about a kilometer
north on the beach, and that I would recognize it when
I saw it.

In my search for this site I found completely natural
marble outcroppings poking their beauty out of the
beach sand. I was amazed at all this marble, obviously
going to waste. Then just beyond this marble I saw
it… a large cavern-like opening in the sea cliffs
that obviously had been chiseled by hand for its tin
ore. You could still see the results of man labor as
these ancients, including Joseph of Arimathea and Jesus
hand dug that tin ore, 2000 years ago.

The women were excitingly anxious. Both were nature
girls by nature. Now as we got down on that beach and
got past the marble outcroppings, we arrived at this
large cavern once more. The tides at this location
seldom got high at all, and investigation revealed
several ledges that were high and wide enough that no
tide would ever menace us to the point of danger, on
some of the higher ledges.

The cavern had been carved out as if following a
specific vein of tin ore, complete with nicks and
crannies similar to a stateside gold mine, except that
in most gold mines timbers had to be used to create
safety against cave-ins. This tin ore mine was laced
across its top by solid marble, like what we had seen
on the sand as we came in to this cavern’s location.

The meandering of the cavern led us away from the
sometimes cold ocean breezes of the Cornwall coast to
the point that any amount of keplunking had us into a
nice warm, breezeless air in hardly any time at all.

The women wanted to sleep in this cavern tonight, and
play at being cave women one evening. We had enjoyed
thus far a nudist camp, and B&B accommodations, now
they felt it was time to be cave people. I hesitated a
bit at that, but was soon coerced into returning to the
car and getting a couple of blankets that I had had the
car rental company provide to use in case we had car
trouble someplace in the middle of the night and had to
sleep in the car on our touring. When I returned to the
cavern the women were already nude and walking about.

I lay out the blankets on a higher ledge that was quite
wide, and tore off my clothes and we were soon all
naked and jostling about. When I had returned to the
car, I had also brought back with the blankets Gina’s
small radio and a couple of bottles of Sherry wine. In
he course of exploring about the cavern, Gina had found
a large collection of Mussels, and Maryanne had put her
Campfire Girls lessons to work and had built a small
fire at the entrance to the cavern. Now that I had
returned, the three naked Americans roasted Mussels and
drank wine until we were full and a little punch drunk.

We put out our campfire and crawled up to our ledge
with the blankets. I teasingly told Gina that perhaps I
needed a big wooden club to captivate my woman, caveman
style. At that both of them grabbed my hard cock and
suggested that they had already captivated all that
need captivating and once again we were fucking as if
we were the first people on Earth and had to hurry and
populate it.

The nice thing about our caveman/cavewoman experience
that night was that when we got all sticky from cumming
so much, the gentle waves of the ocean were nearby for
us to rinse ourselves off in. Ocean salt water is very
smooth feeling on one’s nakedness and it was with great
pleasure that I felt the soothing effects of that
natural cleansing agent. The next morning we arose and
collected some more Mussels which we ate both raw and
cooked and washed them down with what was left over
from the wine. Then we bathed once more and got
dressed.

We hated to leave this place… we all three felt that
it would not take much for us to simply revert back to
the beginnings of the human race and live the rest of
our lives right here on this beach. In a matter of
about 20 years or so we could have quite a small town
if I kept these “wives” of mine pregnant all the time,
and perhaps if the 3 of us got tired of fucking, by
that time our sons and daughters could take up the job,
or maybe some other people would come along to
introduce new blood. We decided to keep this place in
mind for when we returned to the States, one never knew
what might lie in the future for us…

We were soon on the road, this time to Marazion, near
Penzance. Located in this bay were those large rock
outcroppings that had been hewn out by the ancients to
assist in the loading of Tin ore onto Joseph of
Arimathea’s sailing vessels. The tide in Penzance bay
uses its full 6 feet (and then some) in washing back
and forth across the bay. Research has it that Joseph
of Arimathea’s men would dig the Tin ore from the
cavern we had stayed in last night, and then haul it
via mostly oxcart, but some by pack mule, to Penzance
Bay, delivering it to large stationary barges adjacent
to those large rock outcroppings where it would be
placed loosely on the barge in a pile, sorta like a
pile of sand.

Then when the tide came in it would float the barge up
and the Tin ore would be shovelled onto the hewn-out
rock outcropping by yet more of Joseph’s workers. Then
as the ox carts and mules returned for still more Tin
ore from the mines, those old sailing vessels would be
brought in on the next high tide and the ore would be
loaded onto them. Indications seemed to point to the
fact that it may have taken as long as a month to load
6-8 vessels with enough Tin ore to make the sailing
profitable. These large hewn-out rock outcroppings
still today, 2000 years later, show the cutting marks
of the ancient tools to hew them out from their granite
compositions. As I explained all this to the women,
they were decidedly impressed that I had studied all
this so in depth and knew about it so well.

Adjacent to those rock outcroppings was a very good
example of a more recent-day castle, in the form of St.
Michael’s Mount. Of course the women “just had to” see
that castle. Never mind the 1200 steps it took
continuous to get to the base of the castle, but of
course my “wives” were not aware of the steep climb
until we were about half-way up. It was a good thing
that we had stocked my backpack with cold beer, it was
needed badly by all of us as we stopped to rest.

What can you say about St. Michael’s Mount that would
do justice to this romantic island location? There was
a Benedictine Priory here, built in the 12th century as
a daughter house of Mont St. Michel in Normandy. St.
Michael’s Mount is an odd mix of house, religious
retreat, and fortified castle. It was a pilgrimage
centre in the Middle Ages, converted first to a
fortress, then to a house after the Civil War by the
St. Aubin family.

Within the castle are comfortable family rooms, with
paintings by Gainsborough, among others. The former
refectory of the priory is now the Cherry Chase Room,
with a 17th century frieze depicting hunting scenes
painted on the walls. Other features of the house
include a weapons collection, Chippendale furniture,
and 18th century clothes worn by the St. Aubin family.
Reached by a boat (in summer) or via a causeway that is
covered by water at high tide.

The causeway is open for 2-5 hours daily. We spent the
better part of the rest of the day taking a tour of the
castle. Being that we were all very sexually active, we
were getting extremely horny with each other. The women
had worn their cut-off denim shorts with button-down
blouses that they had tied the shirttails of across
their tummys and just the sight of them made my dick
hard.

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