(Part 01)
Tom Haggerty lived in a quaint Tudor cottage in a quiet suburb on the posh side of Childean.
He was fifty Two years old and recently widowed and immediately after his wife’s death he seemed to suddenly appear on the radar of the local spinster’s, widows and divorcees in and around his own age.
In fact it all started at his wife’s funeral where he was buttonholed by two well-presented mourners who made it perfectly clear he could avail himself of them if he chose to do so.
But it was many months after his dear wife was laid to rest and only after repeatedly rebuffing the endless advances of even the most attractive of the local pursuing vamps that he finally decided out of desperation and loneliness to dip his toe in the water and bump uglies with some of the local “talent”.
And those salacious liaisons went on for some time but as enjoyable as they were his heart wasn’t really in it, but he would probably have continued nonetheless but for a providential collision.
When quite by chance on one damp miserable day he met Wendy in Tesco’s car park after a minor fender bender.
She was a very beautiful woman, tall and willowy with long light ginger hair, and a smiling freckled face.
Wendy was a much younger woman than Tom had of late been involved with, in fact she was a considerably younger woman than he, whom at the time he looked upon her merely as a casual observer, although he thought she was attractive and shapely with her Lycra outfit doing nothing to hide her assets, he completely overlooked the fact that he was a man and she was a woman, because he believed she couldn’t possibly be interested in an old man like him.
And although they laughed and joked and she flicked at her hair flirtatiously he was flattered but for him it was a nonstarter, the stuff of cheap fiction, or so he thought at least, but in time he was to find out that he was wrong.
It was a warm summer Saturday afternoon a few days after the accident when Wendy knocked on his door.
“Oh hello” he said doing a double take when he recognised the beautiful smiling young woman, not dressed in Lycra or with her hair up this time, but her ginger tresses flowed free and she was wearing a summer dress, and very little else as far as he could tell.
“Hi Tom” she said and flicked her wayward hair off her face.
“This is a surprise” he said
“I wanted to make sure you were ok” Wendy said and proffered to him a bottle of wine “And apologize again”
“There really is no need” Tom insisted
“I thought there was”
“Well this is very kind of you” he said “but I can’t accept it unless you join me in drinking it”
“I thought you would never ask”
“Well you make yourself comfortable on the patio and I’ll get some glasses” he said
(Part 02)
So Wendy walked out through the French doors while Tom went into the kitchen and got two glasses from the cupboard and after opening the bottle of Pinot he poured two generous glasses of the wine and headed towards the patio.
He stepped outside with a glass in each hand but his uninvited guest was nowhere to be seen, at least not at first.
Tom had assumed she had just taken a turn around the garden while she was waiting and was about to put the glasses down and go in search of her when she suddenly came into view.
“You see I made myself comfortable” she said as she stood on the edge of the patio with the greenery of the garden behind her wearing a bracelet on her wrist, rings on her fingers and a smile on her face and absolutely nothing else.
He returned her smile and then his eyes began to view her in detail beginning with her ginger tresses, streaked with gold from the sun which he followed as they hung down to her naked plump white breasts, adorned with pale pink nipples.
They then travelled down over the topography of her white flesh, from her pronounced ribs, flat belly, narrow waist, and bony hips until they settled on the ginger tuft of pubic hair pointing the way to the gap between her skinny thighs.
“So I can see” he replied still holding the wine glasses, and then she began to walk towards him.
Well if the vision of her standing naked had mesmerised him it was nothing in comparison to the view of the naked Wendy when she set her gorgeous body in motion.
She walked slowly and deliberately getting the maximum movement into each delicious step, making her skinny hips roll which in turn made her plump little tits move in unison. By the time she reached him his mouth was open and his arousal was stirring in his shorts.
Wendy dealt with both of these things in turn, first by putting her mouth over his and invading it with her eager tongue, and with the second by wrestling it from his shorts and gently pulling on it.
Tom was unable to prevent either of these actions as he was still holding a glass of rapidly warming wine in each hand, not that he wanted to.
As her bony fingers stroked along the length of his bone she removed her mouth from his and gave him a broad confident smile before sinking to her knees where her beautiful smile enveloped his swollen organ.
After some prolonged and expert ministration to his cock she was again on her feet in front of him with the same confident smile on her face.
Wendy relieved him of one of the wine glasses and drained it and said
“You can join in now”
Tom took her by the hand and put his glass down on the table as he led her into the house.
His intent was to bed her upstairs but Wendy intervened and pushed him onto the sofa where she climbed on his lap and impaled her ginger pussy on him.
(Part 03)
Tom felt faintly ridiculous having a 23 year old girlfriend and had a feeling of extreme amazement and delight, though more amazement if he was completely honest.
His wife Mary would have laughed like a drain if she could have seen him with a girl she would have considered a child, he really missed Mary.
The sex with Wendy was amazing and made his toes curl and also made his cock stir just to think about it and without wanting to be disloyal to his late wife’s memory it was probably the best sex he’d ever had, no that wasn’t true it was definitely the best sex he had ever had or was ever likely to have.
She was supple, agile and pliable in fact she was really quite exceptionally bendy, he even called her bendy Wendy, and she had near inexhaustible stamina.
But even though Wendy was as horny as hell and a more than accomplished sexual partner she was unfortunately duller than ditch water.
She was “fun” to be with when he was benefiting from her expertise, but her company wasn’t stimulating other than in the obvious way.
Any red bloodied man not in his position would have thought him quite mad for wanting to end it.
But she had no conversation and was the very definition of vacuous.
Gorgeous, sexy, horny as hell and truly accomplished in the sexual arts, but as dumb as a stick.
The truth was that Wendy did not meet all his needs other than the physical.
What Tom wanted was someone like his wife, someone who loved him and who he could love and more importantly talk too.
Someone who knew that Muffin the Mule wasn’t a sexual offence, someone who didn’t think Mr Pastry was a 1960 version of Paul Hollywood and a woman who remembered a time when you had to get up to change the TV channel.
Wendy was not the answer to this want.
Nor could she fill his desire for some nice gentle love making and an affectionate cuddle, some grown up conversation.
Wendy was not someone he could fall asleep in front of the TV with so he decided to end it.
He went outside to break the news to Wendy but when he saw her in the garden squatting naked by the side of the ornamental fish pond Tom thought to himself “ok just one more fuck then”
Friday 31 March 2017
Thursday 30 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (016) The Accidental Cougar
(Part 01)
Yvonne Maher lived alone in a large detached Georgian house in a well-heeled leafy corner of Shallowfield and it was a bright early autumn morning when she lay cosily beneath her duvet and reflected on what had been a very interesting and eventful summer.
Yvonne was over fifty, only just over, but none the less she was the wrong side of that particular milestone and she was divorced to boot.
But she wasn’t a lonely divorcee because Yvonne had a wide circle of friends.
She also had a younger lover, more than 25 years younger to be precise which she supposed made her a cougar.
Yvonne had just come through a rather bitter divorce when they met, not that she was heartbroken by the ordeal or needed picking up from it.
In fact she didn’t mind being divorced, she hardly ever saw her husband Graham when they were together anyway, he was always on the golf course or in the 19th or more often than not he was in his secretary.
But when she met her young lover, Philip, it opened her eyes and showed her that she was still an attractive woman, still a sexy woman, still a desirable woman and her ex-husband Graham never appreciated that.
Her lover was her next door neighbour’s son, 25 years old with the body of an Adonis, a brain the size of an avocado and a cock that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Shetland pony.
She was immensely flattered to still attract male attention at her age, she had had so little attention paid to her by her ex-husband that she had forgotten how attractive she was and Philip was very attentive, very considerate and extremely vigorous.
A session with him was like Zumba and Pilates combined with mild electrocution.
After a weekend with him she was quite literally shagged out and needed the best part of a week to recover.
Not that she wanted to seem ungrateful, as many women in her position, or positions, would have been quite envious if she’d ever told anyone about him and what he did to her and how often, they certainly would not have been sympathetic if she enlightened them.
After all there was a lot to be said for being orgasmed to the point of unconsciousness at any age.
It was just that sometimes she would have been quite happy with an early night and a cuddle.
If her affair with Philip went on too long she wasn’t at all sure that his vital and sustained attention wouldn’t shag her into an early grave.
Plus the fact she was no teenager anymore and getting ready for a date that would end with her being stripped naked and well and truly ravished took a lot longer than it used to do.
As a teen, a squirt of perfume and some lippy and she was good to go.
Now she needed 24 hours’ notice a good night sleep and five hours to prepare.
At the time she met Philip she wasn’t looking for a man of any description and she certainly wasn’t looking for a toy boy she hadn’t even asked to have her grass cut so she truly was an accidental Cougar.
And it all began one early summer’s day when Philips mother Emily volunteered her Estate Agent son to spend his day off cutting her not insubstantial lawns.
(Part 02)
It was a very hot day which got all the hotter for Yvonne when Philip took off his shirt and his muscular well-toned torso glistened with sweat.
By the end of the day she was at boiling point and he had finished all the lawns and was ready to abandon his horticultural endeavours and focus his prowess towards attending to her bush.
Yvonne was in the kitchen getting him some water when he walked up behind her and slipped his hands inside her top, before she could even protest he had un-cupped her breasts and then she didn’t want to protest anymore.
Yvonne was still holding the glass in one hand and the other was on the tap which was still running.
She was unable to complete the simple task she was performing because his big hands were fondling her breasts and was powerless to resist, she knew it was wrong but she hadn’t had a man’s hands on her for two years and all she could do was hope he didn’t stop.
So Yvonne actually sighed as his hand left her breast but then she gasped as it unbuttoned her shorts.
She closed her eyes as he began to tug the zip down slowly inch by inch and as his fingertips slipped beneath the waistband of her silk panties to go where no hand but hers had been for more than two years her knees buckled and she dropped the glass in the sink.
But Philips left arm wrapped around her body and supported her weight as his fingers invaded her wet crease and she moaned coarsely and he continued to support her while his fingers quickly brought her to the brink.
Still supporting her upper body Philip took a step backwards and Yvonne’s inability to relinquish her grip on the tap forced her to bend at the waist leaving her poised invitingly for the eager youth.
Her shorts had already fallen to her knees during his frantic fingering and with a deft hand movement Philips ensured her silk knickers joined them.
He then debagged himself and poised for the briefest moment to admire Mrs Maher’s plump arse and bejewelled pussy before plunging into her and then banging her into oblivion.
That early summer afternoon rogering was the first of many such occasions when she was on the receiving end of his huge cock.
But as Yvonne lay beneath her duvet on an Autumnal morning she wondered if it was worth it, well obviously when he was in her up to his balls vigorously attending to her it was clearly worth it.
After all sex with Philip, although really marvellous, was also very exhausting.
What she really wanted was someone of her own age, who could still get her wet but who would appreciate her for what she was when she wasn’t glammed up, someone she could be herself with.
Not that useless article of an ex-husband though, someone kind and considerate.
What Philip had done more than anything that summer, apart from skewer her repeatedly, was to remind her how much she enjoyed sex and once she had tasted the sweet sensual nectar of lust once again she had an appetite for it that she needed to quench.
So as she lay beneath the duvet she made an important decision, she wouldn’t see Philip again, because his stamina really could have been the death of her.
So she would instead seek out a less vigorous partner or even partners.
And with the momentous decision made she snuggled down beneath the duvet and availed herself of a cheeky finger.
Yvonne Maher lived alone in a large detached Georgian house in a well-heeled leafy corner of Shallowfield and it was a bright early autumn morning when she lay cosily beneath her duvet and reflected on what had been a very interesting and eventful summer.
Yvonne was over fifty, only just over, but none the less she was the wrong side of that particular milestone and she was divorced to boot.
But she wasn’t a lonely divorcee because Yvonne had a wide circle of friends.
She also had a younger lover, more than 25 years younger to be precise which she supposed made her a cougar.
Yvonne had just come through a rather bitter divorce when they met, not that she was heartbroken by the ordeal or needed picking up from it.
In fact she didn’t mind being divorced, she hardly ever saw her husband Graham when they were together anyway, he was always on the golf course or in the 19th or more often than not he was in his secretary.
But when she met her young lover, Philip, it opened her eyes and showed her that she was still an attractive woman, still a sexy woman, still a desirable woman and her ex-husband Graham never appreciated that.
Her lover was her next door neighbour’s son, 25 years old with the body of an Adonis, a brain the size of an avocado and a cock that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Shetland pony.
She was immensely flattered to still attract male attention at her age, she had had so little attention paid to her by her ex-husband that she had forgotten how attractive she was and Philip was very attentive, very considerate and extremely vigorous.
A session with him was like Zumba and Pilates combined with mild electrocution.
After a weekend with him she was quite literally shagged out and needed the best part of a week to recover.
Not that she wanted to seem ungrateful, as many women in her position, or positions, would have been quite envious if she’d ever told anyone about him and what he did to her and how often, they certainly would not have been sympathetic if she enlightened them.
After all there was a lot to be said for being orgasmed to the point of unconsciousness at any age.
It was just that sometimes she would have been quite happy with an early night and a cuddle.
If her affair with Philip went on too long she wasn’t at all sure that his vital and sustained attention wouldn’t shag her into an early grave.
Plus the fact she was no teenager anymore and getting ready for a date that would end with her being stripped naked and well and truly ravished took a lot longer than it used to do.
As a teen, a squirt of perfume and some lippy and she was good to go.
Now she needed 24 hours’ notice a good night sleep and five hours to prepare.
At the time she met Philip she wasn’t looking for a man of any description and she certainly wasn’t looking for a toy boy she hadn’t even asked to have her grass cut so she truly was an accidental Cougar.
And it all began one early summer’s day when Philips mother Emily volunteered her Estate Agent son to spend his day off cutting her not insubstantial lawns.
(Part 02)
It was a very hot day which got all the hotter for Yvonne when Philip took off his shirt and his muscular well-toned torso glistened with sweat.
By the end of the day she was at boiling point and he had finished all the lawns and was ready to abandon his horticultural endeavours and focus his prowess towards attending to her bush.
Yvonne was in the kitchen getting him some water when he walked up behind her and slipped his hands inside her top, before she could even protest he had un-cupped her breasts and then she didn’t want to protest anymore.
Yvonne was still holding the glass in one hand and the other was on the tap which was still running.
She was unable to complete the simple task she was performing because his big hands were fondling her breasts and was powerless to resist, she knew it was wrong but she hadn’t had a man’s hands on her for two years and all she could do was hope he didn’t stop.
So Yvonne actually sighed as his hand left her breast but then she gasped as it unbuttoned her shorts.
She closed her eyes as he began to tug the zip down slowly inch by inch and as his fingertips slipped beneath the waistband of her silk panties to go where no hand but hers had been for more than two years her knees buckled and she dropped the glass in the sink.
But Philips left arm wrapped around her body and supported her weight as his fingers invaded her wet crease and she moaned coarsely and he continued to support her while his fingers quickly brought her to the brink.
Still supporting her upper body Philip took a step backwards and Yvonne’s inability to relinquish her grip on the tap forced her to bend at the waist leaving her poised invitingly for the eager youth.
Her shorts had already fallen to her knees during his frantic fingering and with a deft hand movement Philips ensured her silk knickers joined them.
He then debagged himself and poised for the briefest moment to admire Mrs Maher’s plump arse and bejewelled pussy before plunging into her and then banging her into oblivion.
That early summer afternoon rogering was the first of many such occasions when she was on the receiving end of his huge cock.
But as Yvonne lay beneath her duvet on an Autumnal morning she wondered if it was worth it, well obviously when he was in her up to his balls vigorously attending to her it was clearly worth it.
After all sex with Philip, although really marvellous, was also very exhausting.
What she really wanted was someone of her own age, who could still get her wet but who would appreciate her for what she was when she wasn’t glammed up, someone she could be herself with.
Not that useless article of an ex-husband though, someone kind and considerate.
What Philip had done more than anything that summer, apart from skewer her repeatedly, was to remind her how much she enjoyed sex and once she had tasted the sweet sensual nectar of lust once again she had an appetite for it that she needed to quench.
So as she lay beneath the duvet she made an important decision, she wouldn’t see Philip again, because his stamina really could have been the death of her.
So she would instead seek out a less vigorous partner or even partners.
And with the momentous decision made she snuggled down beneath the duvet and availed herself of a cheeky finger.
Wednesday 29 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (015) Birthday Girl’s
Emanuela Petrescu and Catarina Langella lived together in a two bedroom flat above a parade of shops in Childean and apart from the fact they were both 27 years old and female they had absolutely nothing in common at all.
Emanuela was Romanian and was a doctor at the Winston Churchil Hospital and Caterina was Italian and was a hairdresser at Mazzone’s in the parade of shops she lived above.
They liked different food, listened to different music and wore different clothes.
The flat was owned by Mazzone’s and Caterina and another girl from the shop, Isabella, split the rent but when Izzy got married it left Cat in a hole, so she put an advert in the Chronicle and Ema was the only applicant and apart from the fact they were complete opposites they had lived together for 18 months and it had worked out perfectly.
Ema was tall and slender with brown hair and dark eyes and she made Caterina cross because she didn’t make the best of what she had, she didn’t go overboard with makeup and wore clothes that she was comfortable in rather than what made her look good.
Caterina had less to work with, she was shorter, plainer and chubbier than her flatmate with mousy hair and a big nose but she always looked immaculate, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by Ema.
Not that Caterina was aware of that until the day after her birthday.
Emanuela had been on call at the Churchill on Cats birthday and had been out after work for a leaving party and as a result she had come home in a taxi slightly the worse for drink.
Caterina was in the bath when she returned and when she came out she was wearing a towelling bathrobe and a towel turban on her head.
On seeing her flatmate all freshly scrubbed and pink Emanuela immediately rushed towards her.
“Happy birthday draga mea” she said and threw her arms around Caterina exaggeratedly and hugged her
“Thanks Ema” she replied and hugged her back
Emanuela however didn’t release her grip on the little mousy Italian girl and in addition began nuzzling her neck.
Caterina felt a little awkward but didn’t really understand what she was doing, that is until she started chewing her earlobe.
“I don’t...” she began but in response Ema’s lips were over hers and her tongue immediately explored her flat mate’s mouth.
Caterina was shocked as she had never been kissed by a girl before and she certainly didn’t expect it from Ema and as far as she was aware she had given her no encouragement or indication that she was that way inclined, which she wasn’t.
But despite all of that Catarina still found her tongue was exploring Ema’s mouth with equal enthusiasm, and encouraged by her response Ema untied the belt on Catarina’s robe.
Cats mind was in a turmoil, she wanted to stop but she couldn’t, all of her life Sex had always left her cold, and unmoved with no heat or passion but after Ema had delivered Sappho’s kiss she was on fire.
She had always put down her indifference to the act to a low sex drive but as she and her flat mate embraced she wondered if in reality if she could have been driving in the wrong direction, was it conceivable that the secret of her sexuality was finally unlocked.
It was the first time she had felt such a kiss, the first time she’d felt that way in response to a kiss, but it had never occurred to her that she might be gay.
“Nonsense” she said in her head “I like George Clooney”
Yet her tongue still busied itself inside Ema’s mouth and her hands were inside Caterina’s robe and then those hands fondled her breasts and all thought of protestations were dispelled from her mind.
With a hand on each breast Emanuela pushed her back against the wall and withdrew her tongue from Catarina’s mouth and pulled her lips away, but Cat’s lips pursued Ema’s mouth like a hungry bird.
But Ema eluded her as her mouth had another goal and began kissing her freshly bathed skin, smelling of coconut, beginning at her neck with kisses as soft as a butterflies wings, down her chest, and then she kissed her breasts.
Caterina bit her lip in anticipation as Emanuela tongue was flicking around her nipples until that delicious moment when she took her pink proud nipple in her mouth and head was swimming and her legs trembled and when she felt Emanuelas hands on her naked buttocks they buckled and she slid down the wall.
Emanuela reluctantly relinquished her nipple and rolled her onto the floor and went to work on the other one.
Catarina layback with her eyes closed and her mouth open in anticipation of the moment she longed for and when she felt Emanuelas un-manicured fingers brushing lightly across her damp mousy bush she gasped and when those unfeminine fingers touched her intimate femininity in loves sweetest caress she emitted a moan akin to a purr and she finally knew her true self.
Emanuela was Romanian and was a doctor at the Winston Churchil Hospital and Caterina was Italian and was a hairdresser at Mazzone’s in the parade of shops she lived above.
They liked different food, listened to different music and wore different clothes.
The flat was owned by Mazzone’s and Caterina and another girl from the shop, Isabella, split the rent but when Izzy got married it left Cat in a hole, so she put an advert in the Chronicle and Ema was the only applicant and apart from the fact they were complete opposites they had lived together for 18 months and it had worked out perfectly.
Ema was tall and slender with brown hair and dark eyes and she made Caterina cross because she didn’t make the best of what she had, she didn’t go overboard with makeup and wore clothes that she was comfortable in rather than what made her look good.
Caterina had less to work with, she was shorter, plainer and chubbier than her flatmate with mousy hair and a big nose but she always looked immaculate, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by Ema.
Not that Caterina was aware of that until the day after her birthday.
Emanuela had been on call at the Churchill on Cats birthday and had been out after work for a leaving party and as a result she had come home in a taxi slightly the worse for drink.
Caterina was in the bath when she returned and when she came out she was wearing a towelling bathrobe and a towel turban on her head.
On seeing her flatmate all freshly scrubbed and pink Emanuela immediately rushed towards her.
“Happy birthday draga mea” she said and threw her arms around Caterina exaggeratedly and hugged her
“Thanks Ema” she replied and hugged her back
Emanuela however didn’t release her grip on the little mousy Italian girl and in addition began nuzzling her neck.
Caterina felt a little awkward but didn’t really understand what she was doing, that is until she started chewing her earlobe.
“I don’t...” she began but in response Ema’s lips were over hers and her tongue immediately explored her flat mate’s mouth.
Caterina was shocked as she had never been kissed by a girl before and she certainly didn’t expect it from Ema and as far as she was aware she had given her no encouragement or indication that she was that way inclined, which she wasn’t.
But despite all of that Catarina still found her tongue was exploring Ema’s mouth with equal enthusiasm, and encouraged by her response Ema untied the belt on Catarina’s robe.
Cats mind was in a turmoil, she wanted to stop but she couldn’t, all of her life Sex had always left her cold, and unmoved with no heat or passion but after Ema had delivered Sappho’s kiss she was on fire.
She had always put down her indifference to the act to a low sex drive but as she and her flat mate embraced she wondered if in reality if she could have been driving in the wrong direction, was it conceivable that the secret of her sexuality was finally unlocked.
It was the first time she had felt such a kiss, the first time she’d felt that way in response to a kiss, but it had never occurred to her that she might be gay.
“Nonsense” she said in her head “I like George Clooney”
Yet her tongue still busied itself inside Ema’s mouth and her hands were inside Caterina’s robe and then those hands fondled her breasts and all thought of protestations were dispelled from her mind.
With a hand on each breast Emanuela pushed her back against the wall and withdrew her tongue from Catarina’s mouth and pulled her lips away, but Cat’s lips pursued Ema’s mouth like a hungry bird.
But Ema eluded her as her mouth had another goal and began kissing her freshly bathed skin, smelling of coconut, beginning at her neck with kisses as soft as a butterflies wings, down her chest, and then she kissed her breasts.
Caterina bit her lip in anticipation as Emanuela tongue was flicking around her nipples until that delicious moment when she took her pink proud nipple in her mouth and head was swimming and her legs trembled and when she felt Emanuelas hands on her naked buttocks they buckled and she slid down the wall.
Emanuela reluctantly relinquished her nipple and rolled her onto the floor and went to work on the other one.
Catarina layback with her eyes closed and her mouth open in anticipation of the moment she longed for and when she felt Emanuelas un-manicured fingers brushing lightly across her damp mousy bush she gasped and when those unfeminine fingers touched her intimate femininity in loves sweetest caress she emitted a moan akin to a purr and she finally knew her true self.
Tuesday 28 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (014) An Innocent Voyeur
(Part 01)
It was a hot sultry summer afternoon in the village of Sharping St Mary, only a few miles from Purplemere, and only that morning 20 year old Caroline Danville had returned to her home from University.
Although she had actually left University a month earlier she had spent that month with her mother and stepfather in Bushy Down.
She was supposed to be there for another two days but her stepfather Graham had begun to get on her nerves, not that she disliked him or anything like that, he was harmless enough he was just a bit of a fusser and she didn’t like to be fussed over.
So Carrie, as she was known to everyone, had left early and was sitting in a quiet corner of the garden, in a shady and secluded spot.
She preferred the shade and couldn’t abide the sun, and it wasn’t overly fond of her.
She had pale ginger hair and fair delicate skin to accompany it, so she could either keep herself covered up or stay in the shade.
So she was laying on a picnic blanket in a bikini, hidden from view and lost in solitary thought.
Carrie had been out in the garden for a little under an hour when she noticed her stepmother Julie walk slowly across the lawn from the house, she liked Julie and she had liked her from the very beginning, she was younger than her dad but 15 years older than her and she had been her step mother for five years.
It was a very large garden with trees and shrubbery in abundance on three sides and a huge lawn in the centre where Julie spread out her blanket.
The garden being very private, and with her husband away on business and Carrie not due back until the weekend, Julie thought she was alone.
Carrie was about to shout “hello” but stopped herself when Julie slipped off her dress to stand naked on the lawn, with arms stretched above her head like a goddess and then she pirouetted like a ballerina, showing her magnificent well-toned and well-tanned body to the birds and the bee’s in her secluded surroundings.
Julie was a tall willowy woman with long legs and lithe limbs, her perfectly proportioned breasts moved delightfully as she continued to dance, celebrating her nakedness and offering herself to the sun.
Julie suddenly stopped her homage to Terpsichore and laughed as she ran her finger through her vibrant brunette hair, then she lay down on the blanket.
Carrie was again about to speak and make her presence known, but found herself unable, or unwilling, she was mesmerized by the tableaux that lay before her, and she found herself a little aroused.
Which surprised her greatly, not being so inclined, not being of that persuasion, not being a disciple of Sappho.
“What harm can it do?” she thought to herself, to look on with no fear of discovery.
Carrie was a reluctant voyeur but the opportunity presented itself and so she took it.
Where, was the harm in watching a beautiful woman sunbathe naked, it didn’t mean anything.
But then Julie started to touch and caress her nakedness.
(Part 02)
Julie started to touch and caress her nakedness, first her breasts, which caused Carrie to look away slightly embarrassed but her curiosity drew her back and her arousal heightened as she saw Julie’s long elegant fingers comb through her lush pubic curls and descend between her lips.
Carrie watched Julie’s busy fingers, spellbound and her arousal grew deeper with each stroke of her stepmother’s slender digits.
Carrie was so engaged by Julie’s erotic tableaux that she found her own fingers rubbing her own pussy through her bikini and when Julie’s body arched in climax Carrie let out an involuntary yet audible squeal.
Julie glanced over in her direction and their eyes met and Julie smiled while Carrie blushed.
Julie sat up and beckoned to Carrie in a wordless invitation to join her.
Carrie arose from her place of hiding and her legs felt weak as she walked tentatively to join her step mum and Julie was standing by the time Carrie reached her.
She was about to speak, to apologize for spying on her, for intruding on her privacy and for enjoying her intimacy, but Julie put a finger to Carrie’s lips to silence her, and Carrie could smell Julie’s musk upon it.
Julie’s hand then caressed Carries cheek and ran her slender fingers through Carrie’s fine Reddish Blonde hair and pulled her head towards her, and kissed her.
Carrie had never been kissed by a woman before and her first thought was to back away, but she couldn’t move, so as Julie’s lips grew closer she opened her mouth and received her step mothers tongue and for the first time Carrie enjoyed Sappho’s sweet kiss.
It was a kiss like no other kiss she had ever had, her boyfriend David never kissed her like that, and he had never made her knees go weak.
There were still no words between them only smiles when the kiss ended and Carrie offered no resistance when Julie removed her bikini top, exposing her pert little breasts and stiff pink nipples, nor did she flinch as Julie’s hands untied the strings of her bikini pants.
Julie took the garment in her hand and the moisture in the fabric and held it to her nose and inhaled Carrie’s sour scent.
Carrie looked to the ground and felt herself blush from head to toe which made Julie smile.
She dropped Carrie’s wet musky pants on the ground and then took hold of her hands and guided her onto the blanket.
“I’m not a lesbian” Carrie said
“Neither am I sweetie” she replied as she laid Carrie down on the rug where she kissed her.
First on the mouth hot and heavy then gentler on her neck, her chest, her breasts.
Julie dwelt upon her breasts and sucked slowly and deliberately on her swollen little nipples as Carrie was lying with her hand on her head and her eyes shut tight as the electricity of each of Julie’s kisses tingled through her young body.
Julie left Carrie’s stiff saliva soaked nipples and proceeded to kiss her way down to her quivering belly pausing only to flick her tongue into her navel which made her jump.
For the rest of Julie’s journey Carrie’s hands grabbed fistfuls of blanket and her tight young arse squirmed as she anticipated Julie’s ultimate destination.
And as Julie’s cheek brushed against her ginger bush Carrie parted her thighs so she could enjoy Sappho’s most intimate embrace.
It was a hot sultry summer afternoon in the village of Sharping St Mary, only a few miles from Purplemere, and only that morning 20 year old Caroline Danville had returned to her home from University.
Although she had actually left University a month earlier she had spent that month with her mother and stepfather in Bushy Down.
She was supposed to be there for another two days but her stepfather Graham had begun to get on her nerves, not that she disliked him or anything like that, he was harmless enough he was just a bit of a fusser and she didn’t like to be fussed over.
So Carrie, as she was known to everyone, had left early and was sitting in a quiet corner of the garden, in a shady and secluded spot.
She preferred the shade and couldn’t abide the sun, and it wasn’t overly fond of her.
She had pale ginger hair and fair delicate skin to accompany it, so she could either keep herself covered up or stay in the shade.
So she was laying on a picnic blanket in a bikini, hidden from view and lost in solitary thought.
Carrie had been out in the garden for a little under an hour when she noticed her stepmother Julie walk slowly across the lawn from the house, she liked Julie and she had liked her from the very beginning, she was younger than her dad but 15 years older than her and she had been her step mother for five years.
It was a very large garden with trees and shrubbery in abundance on three sides and a huge lawn in the centre where Julie spread out her blanket.
The garden being very private, and with her husband away on business and Carrie not due back until the weekend, Julie thought she was alone.
Carrie was about to shout “hello” but stopped herself when Julie slipped off her dress to stand naked on the lawn, with arms stretched above her head like a goddess and then she pirouetted like a ballerina, showing her magnificent well-toned and well-tanned body to the birds and the bee’s in her secluded surroundings.
Julie was a tall willowy woman with long legs and lithe limbs, her perfectly proportioned breasts moved delightfully as she continued to dance, celebrating her nakedness and offering herself to the sun.
Julie suddenly stopped her homage to Terpsichore and laughed as she ran her finger through her vibrant brunette hair, then she lay down on the blanket.
Carrie was again about to speak and make her presence known, but found herself unable, or unwilling, she was mesmerized by the tableaux that lay before her, and she found herself a little aroused.
Which surprised her greatly, not being so inclined, not being of that persuasion, not being a disciple of Sappho.
“What harm can it do?” she thought to herself, to look on with no fear of discovery.
Carrie was a reluctant voyeur but the opportunity presented itself and so she took it.
Where, was the harm in watching a beautiful woman sunbathe naked, it didn’t mean anything.
But then Julie started to touch and caress her nakedness.
(Part 02)
Julie started to touch and caress her nakedness, first her breasts, which caused Carrie to look away slightly embarrassed but her curiosity drew her back and her arousal heightened as she saw Julie’s long elegant fingers comb through her lush pubic curls and descend between her lips.
Carrie watched Julie’s busy fingers, spellbound and her arousal grew deeper with each stroke of her stepmother’s slender digits.
Carrie was so engaged by Julie’s erotic tableaux that she found her own fingers rubbing her own pussy through her bikini and when Julie’s body arched in climax Carrie let out an involuntary yet audible squeal.
Julie glanced over in her direction and their eyes met and Julie smiled while Carrie blushed.
Julie sat up and beckoned to Carrie in a wordless invitation to join her.
Carrie arose from her place of hiding and her legs felt weak as she walked tentatively to join her step mum and Julie was standing by the time Carrie reached her.
She was about to speak, to apologize for spying on her, for intruding on her privacy and for enjoying her intimacy, but Julie put a finger to Carrie’s lips to silence her, and Carrie could smell Julie’s musk upon it.
Julie’s hand then caressed Carries cheek and ran her slender fingers through Carrie’s fine Reddish Blonde hair and pulled her head towards her, and kissed her.
Carrie had never been kissed by a woman before and her first thought was to back away, but she couldn’t move, so as Julie’s lips grew closer she opened her mouth and received her step mothers tongue and for the first time Carrie enjoyed Sappho’s sweet kiss.
It was a kiss like no other kiss she had ever had, her boyfriend David never kissed her like that, and he had never made her knees go weak.
There were still no words between them only smiles when the kiss ended and Carrie offered no resistance when Julie removed her bikini top, exposing her pert little breasts and stiff pink nipples, nor did she flinch as Julie’s hands untied the strings of her bikini pants.
Julie took the garment in her hand and the moisture in the fabric and held it to her nose and inhaled Carrie’s sour scent.
Carrie looked to the ground and felt herself blush from head to toe which made Julie smile.
She dropped Carrie’s wet musky pants on the ground and then took hold of her hands and guided her onto the blanket.
“I’m not a lesbian” Carrie said
“Neither am I sweetie” she replied as she laid Carrie down on the rug where she kissed her.
First on the mouth hot and heavy then gentler on her neck, her chest, her breasts.
Julie dwelt upon her breasts and sucked slowly and deliberately on her swollen little nipples as Carrie was lying with her hand on her head and her eyes shut tight as the electricity of each of Julie’s kisses tingled through her young body.
Julie left Carrie’s stiff saliva soaked nipples and proceeded to kiss her way down to her quivering belly pausing only to flick her tongue into her navel which made her jump.
For the rest of Julie’s journey Carrie’s hands grabbed fistfuls of blanket and her tight young arse squirmed as she anticipated Julie’s ultimate destination.
And as Julie’s cheek brushed against her ginger bush Carrie parted her thighs so she could enjoy Sappho’s most intimate embrace.
Monday 27 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (013) A Man to be Trusted
(Part 01)
“Take care of her?” said Winifred Hawkes-Holland as he opened the driver’s car door.
“Will do boss” Harry replied giving his passenger a wry smile as he got behind the wheel.
“I’m not a child,” Clare shouted petulantly out of the open window “and I don’t need babysitting”
It was certainly true to say that Clare Hawkes was not a child, far from it.
No one who ever saw the 25 years old would ever have described her as such, childish, possibly, but not a child.
After all Clare stood an inch short of six feet tall which was evidence of adulthood in itself but if that didn’t convince you then her long legs, voluminous rolling hips and a 44” bust would.
No, Clare was not a child, but her mother, as mothers always do, would always see her thus.
But Winifred Hawkes-Holland wasn’t merely Clare’s mother she was also her employer.
Holland brothers bought and sold Antiques and collectables, a business that Winifred married into and now Clare was going on her first solo-buying trip.
Even though technically she wasn’t going solo and it would have been her maiden trip but for the fact Harry Mortimer was sent with her as a babysitter.
Harry had been with the Holland’s since he left school and he was greatly trusted by Win.
And as he was in his early forties and unremarkable looking and was to all and sundry average in all respects she trusted there would be no shenanigans.
Suffice is to say Winifred trusted her precious daughter was in safe hands with Harry Mortimer.
On the journey from Northern Downshire all the way down to Finchbottom, Clare was still berating Harry on her mother’s distrust of her.
“It’s not that she doesn’t trust you,” He said
“She doesn’t seem to realise that I’m a grown woman,” she continued
“We are all aware you are a grown woman” Harry said and after pause added
“Well aware”
Clare looked at him and raised her eye brows
“So what have you noticed?” she asked with amusement
Harry blushed to his roots under her gaze
“Nnnnothing” he stammered
“Come on Harry” she pressed
“Just that I have noticed that you are no longer a child” he replied
The rest of the journey passed largely in silence with Clare admiring the countryside while occasionally sneaking glances at her driver.
They stopped that night at the White Horse Inn in Finchbottom and spent the evening in the restaurant where Clare drank more than was good for her.
Harry thought she had been in a strange mood since the journey down and kept looking at him in a funny way.
But Clare was drinking too much, and she was flirting and he had never seen her do that before, and he couldn’t let it continue.
If he did, her mother would not consider that “Taking care of her”
“Come on party girl” he said “bedtime”
“Oh goody” she said draining her glass
Accompanied by outrageous flirting and downright suggestive behaviour Harry steered her up the stairs
“Up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire” he said and when they reached the top he headed towards her room at the end of the corridor.
(Part 02)
When they got to her door Clare announced
“Honey! I’m home”
Harry propped her against the doorframe as he unlocked the door and she began kissing his neck.
“Behave yourself” he said and gave her a playful slap on her bum.
“Oooh are you going to spank me Harry?” she asked
“Get in there young lady” he said and guided her through the door
“I love it when you’re all masterful” Clare responded and wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to kiss him.
Harry managed to avoid her lips at the last second as the door slammed shut behind them and they performed a strange ungracious waltz into the room.
“Here we are young lady,” he said as he prepared to lower her onto the bed
“Bedfordshire” Clare said gleefully, and span Harry around then pushed him backwards onto the bed and she kicked off her shoes and jumped on top of him.
Harry began to protest but her soft lips and hot mouth clamped over his and her tongue was like a serpent.
Harry’s resistance lasted less than a minute, after all he had dreamt of that moment since she was 17.
His hands began to claw the shirt free of her waistband and then with great urgency she sat upright and pulled the shirt off over her head and threw it aside.
Her hands trembled as her fingers fumbled at his shirt buttons but when she had accomplished her task she ran her fingers through the hairs on his chest.
And those same trembling hands that caressed his flesh went behind her back and unhooked her bra.
Harry was looking at her face while her hands were on his chest but the moment her hands began unfastening her bra his eyes stared at her harnessed breasts and as the tension around them relaxed he reached up and pulled the bra off and discarded it and revelled at the sight of Clare’s great round breasts then she leant forward and delivered them into his waiting hands and her mouth returned to his.
Her breasts were rising and falling and Harry could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her kissing became more intense.
She sat up again and hurriedly undid his trousers and then climbed off him and dragged his trousers and pants off.
Harry raised himself up onto his elbows as Clare wriggled out of her jeans and then tantalizing slipped off her panties to reveal a neatly clipped triangle of black hair.
And when she climbed back on him she didn’t hesitate for a second before expertly enveloping Harry’s shaft with her welcoming wetness.
Clare was on him and he was at her mercy as she rose and fell on him and on each fall Harry grunted his appreciation as his hands groped her buttocks.
As Clare raised the tempo her panting came in coarse rasping breaths, each one coarser and more guttural than the one preceding it, until she cried out in orgasm.
After Clare had ridden Harry to an exhausting climax, the sweating panting beast with her raven black hair in wild disarray and eyes wide with primal lust smiled a smile of lasciviousness.
“Do you think this is what your mum meant when she said, “Take care of her”?” Harry asked
“Oh yes I think so” she said “and when you recover you can “take care of me” again”
And Harry took care of her every day they were on the road and on future trips Clare always insisted on having her babysitter with her in order to “Take care of her”.
“Take care of her?” said Winifred Hawkes-Holland as he opened the driver’s car door.
“Will do boss” Harry replied giving his passenger a wry smile as he got behind the wheel.
“I’m not a child,” Clare shouted petulantly out of the open window “and I don’t need babysitting”
It was certainly true to say that Clare Hawkes was not a child, far from it.
No one who ever saw the 25 years old would ever have described her as such, childish, possibly, but not a child.
After all Clare stood an inch short of six feet tall which was evidence of adulthood in itself but if that didn’t convince you then her long legs, voluminous rolling hips and a 44” bust would.
No, Clare was not a child, but her mother, as mothers always do, would always see her thus.
But Winifred Hawkes-Holland wasn’t merely Clare’s mother she was also her employer.
Holland brothers bought and sold Antiques and collectables, a business that Winifred married into and now Clare was going on her first solo-buying trip.
Even though technically she wasn’t going solo and it would have been her maiden trip but for the fact Harry Mortimer was sent with her as a babysitter.
Harry had been with the Holland’s since he left school and he was greatly trusted by Win.
And as he was in his early forties and unremarkable looking and was to all and sundry average in all respects she trusted there would be no shenanigans.
Suffice is to say Winifred trusted her precious daughter was in safe hands with Harry Mortimer.
On the journey from Northern Downshire all the way down to Finchbottom, Clare was still berating Harry on her mother’s distrust of her.
“It’s not that she doesn’t trust you,” He said
“She doesn’t seem to realise that I’m a grown woman,” she continued
“We are all aware you are a grown woman” Harry said and after pause added
“Well aware”
Clare looked at him and raised her eye brows
“So what have you noticed?” she asked with amusement
Harry blushed to his roots under her gaze
“Nnnnothing” he stammered
“Come on Harry” she pressed
“Just that I have noticed that you are no longer a child” he replied
The rest of the journey passed largely in silence with Clare admiring the countryside while occasionally sneaking glances at her driver.
They stopped that night at the White Horse Inn in Finchbottom and spent the evening in the restaurant where Clare drank more than was good for her.
Harry thought she had been in a strange mood since the journey down and kept looking at him in a funny way.
But Clare was drinking too much, and she was flirting and he had never seen her do that before, and he couldn’t let it continue.
If he did, her mother would not consider that “Taking care of her”
“Come on party girl” he said “bedtime”
“Oh goody” she said draining her glass
Accompanied by outrageous flirting and downright suggestive behaviour Harry steered her up the stairs
“Up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire” he said and when they reached the top he headed towards her room at the end of the corridor.
(Part 02)
When they got to her door Clare announced
“Honey! I’m home”
Harry propped her against the doorframe as he unlocked the door and she began kissing his neck.
“Behave yourself” he said and gave her a playful slap on her bum.
“Oooh are you going to spank me Harry?” she asked
“Get in there young lady” he said and guided her through the door
“I love it when you’re all masterful” Clare responded and wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to kiss him.
Harry managed to avoid her lips at the last second as the door slammed shut behind them and they performed a strange ungracious waltz into the room.
“Here we are young lady,” he said as he prepared to lower her onto the bed
“Bedfordshire” Clare said gleefully, and span Harry around then pushed him backwards onto the bed and she kicked off her shoes and jumped on top of him.
Harry began to protest but her soft lips and hot mouth clamped over his and her tongue was like a serpent.
Harry’s resistance lasted less than a minute, after all he had dreamt of that moment since she was 17.
His hands began to claw the shirt free of her waistband and then with great urgency she sat upright and pulled the shirt off over her head and threw it aside.
Her hands trembled as her fingers fumbled at his shirt buttons but when she had accomplished her task she ran her fingers through the hairs on his chest.
And those same trembling hands that caressed his flesh went behind her back and unhooked her bra.
Harry was looking at her face while her hands were on his chest but the moment her hands began unfastening her bra his eyes stared at her harnessed breasts and as the tension around them relaxed he reached up and pulled the bra off and discarded it and revelled at the sight of Clare’s great round breasts then she leant forward and delivered them into his waiting hands and her mouth returned to his.
Her breasts were rising and falling and Harry could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her kissing became more intense.
She sat up again and hurriedly undid his trousers and then climbed off him and dragged his trousers and pants off.
Harry raised himself up onto his elbows as Clare wriggled out of her jeans and then tantalizing slipped off her panties to reveal a neatly clipped triangle of black hair.
And when she climbed back on him she didn’t hesitate for a second before expertly enveloping Harry’s shaft with her welcoming wetness.
Clare was on him and he was at her mercy as she rose and fell on him and on each fall Harry grunted his appreciation as his hands groped her buttocks.
As Clare raised the tempo her panting came in coarse rasping breaths, each one coarser and more guttural than the one preceding it, until she cried out in orgasm.
After Clare had ridden Harry to an exhausting climax, the sweating panting beast with her raven black hair in wild disarray and eyes wide with primal lust smiled a smile of lasciviousness.
“Do you think this is what your mum meant when she said, “Take care of her”?” Harry asked
“Oh yes I think so” she said “and when you recover you can “take care of me” again”
And Harry took care of her every day they were on the road and on future trips Clare always insisted on having her babysitter with her in order to “Take care of her”.
Sunday 26 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (012) The Lady in the Black Dress
It was a beautiful moonlit night at the Midsummers Eve Ball and just before midnight Luke Martin was enjoying an illicit cigar on the East Terrace of the Great Hall.
The reason he chose that particular place to smoke was because it was the furthest from the ballroom and therefore the furthest away from his wife’s disapproving eye.
But that wasn’t the only reason he always sought out that spot.
He also went there to be alone because he rarely saw another soul, and he liked that, he liked the solitude, and he liked to enjoy his smoke in peace.
He looked up at the hunter’s moon hanging in the clear night sky as he exhaled the mellow smoke long and slow, which was when his peace was broken by the clip clop of stiletto heels on the flagstones.
He was just about to lambast the intruder for invading his retreat but when he turned to look at the source of his annoyance, he saw it was the girl in the black dress or more precisely the Lady in the black dress, Lady Samantha Lyndon-Sanders.
The black dress in question was a full length evening dress which fitted her every contour and even in the moonlight it was patently obvious that she was completely naked beneath it.
“Hello Luke” she said “I thought I’d find you here”
“And you were looking for me why?” he said impatiently
Luke had known Lady Sam for several years and had always fancied her but he was a bit short with her because he just wanted to smoke his cigar in peace.
“Oh I just fancied a smoke” Lady Samantha replied falsely
“I’d like to know where you have your cigarettes hidden” he said looking her slowly up and down and the only things he located were her proud nipples.
“I don’t have any” she replied “as you can see well enough”
“I would have to agree that what I can see poking through your dress are not cigarette” he said
“No they’re not” she agreed “So I’ll share yours”
Lady Samantha stood very close to him as she took the cigar from his hand and took a long drag on it which Luke found strangely arousing.
They stood on the terrace in the moonlight together and smoked the stogey to a stub and Luke flicked it into the night.
“Well what do we do now?” she said “The night is young”
But before Luke could answer she began kissing him passionately on the mouth which he instantly reciprocated while his hands caressed every inch of her his hands could reach, and as his hands confirmed Lady Samantha’s lack of underwear, her hand pulled down his zip fly and expertly extracted the evidence of his arousal through the opening so her evening gloved hand could proceed to tug gently on his shaft.
Lady Samantha stopped kissing him and smiled as she continued tugging on his cock, then she dropped to her knees and eagerly took him in her mouth.
Luke stood on the patio in the moonlight as Lady Sam consumed him expertly and with relish until he exploded in her mouth.
“Wow” he said as he zipped up his fly “That was the best smoke I ever had”
“Wait until next time” Lady Samantha said getting to her feet and brushing the dirt off her knees.
“You can have the rest of me when there’s no cotton mouse in the way”
“I’ll look forward to it” he said
“And so you should” she responded and kissed him and then clip clopped back to the Ball.
The reason he chose that particular place to smoke was because it was the furthest from the ballroom and therefore the furthest away from his wife’s disapproving eye.
But that wasn’t the only reason he always sought out that spot.
He also went there to be alone because he rarely saw another soul, and he liked that, he liked the solitude, and he liked to enjoy his smoke in peace.
He looked up at the hunter’s moon hanging in the clear night sky as he exhaled the mellow smoke long and slow, which was when his peace was broken by the clip clop of stiletto heels on the flagstones.
He was just about to lambast the intruder for invading his retreat but when he turned to look at the source of his annoyance, he saw it was the girl in the black dress or more precisely the Lady in the black dress, Lady Samantha Lyndon-Sanders.
The black dress in question was a full length evening dress which fitted her every contour and even in the moonlight it was patently obvious that she was completely naked beneath it.
“Hello Luke” she said “I thought I’d find you here”
“And you were looking for me why?” he said impatiently
Luke had known Lady Sam for several years and had always fancied her but he was a bit short with her because he just wanted to smoke his cigar in peace.
“Oh I just fancied a smoke” Lady Samantha replied falsely
“I’d like to know where you have your cigarettes hidden” he said looking her slowly up and down and the only things he located were her proud nipples.
“I don’t have any” she replied “as you can see well enough”
“I would have to agree that what I can see poking through your dress are not cigarette” he said
“No they’re not” she agreed “So I’ll share yours”
Lady Samantha stood very close to him as she took the cigar from his hand and took a long drag on it which Luke found strangely arousing.
They stood on the terrace in the moonlight together and smoked the stogey to a stub and Luke flicked it into the night.
“Well what do we do now?” she said “The night is young”
But before Luke could answer she began kissing him passionately on the mouth which he instantly reciprocated while his hands caressed every inch of her his hands could reach, and as his hands confirmed Lady Samantha’s lack of underwear, her hand pulled down his zip fly and expertly extracted the evidence of his arousal through the opening so her evening gloved hand could proceed to tug gently on his shaft.
Lady Samantha stopped kissing him and smiled as she continued tugging on his cock, then she dropped to her knees and eagerly took him in her mouth.
Luke stood on the patio in the moonlight as Lady Sam consumed him expertly and with relish until he exploded in her mouth.
“Wow” he said as he zipped up his fly “That was the best smoke I ever had”
“Wait until next time” Lady Samantha said getting to her feet and brushing the dirt off her knees.
“You can have the rest of me when there’s no cotton mouse in the way”
“I’ll look forward to it” he said
“And so you should” she responded and kissed him and then clip clopped back to the Ball.
Saturday 25 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (011) A Woman of a Certain Age
It was just after the Sunday morning service had ended at St Jude’s when Michael Scanlon spotted her and thought for a woman of her age she had a particularly nice figure.
The woman in question had just come down the steps from the church and had stopped briefly to converse with friends and by that time he was sitting at a table outside the Café Espresso just opposite the church entrance.
He was not a Christian himself but he was often sat outside the Church on a Sunday morning when church emptied.
Which on the face of it sounds very wrong, but in his defence he sits there waiting for the Phoenix shopping centre to open, but he would have to admit that he did get a kick out of ogling all the Christian women in their Sunday best.
He knew the woman slightly, her name was Lorraine Lyon and they were both members of the same Golf club, Forest Ridge.
She was a very wealthy woman by all accounts, which was self-evident by the way she was dressed, though her financial status was of secondary concern to him when he looked at her.
Everything Lorraine wore was real quality and she was always immaculately turned out.
So he was quite surprised on that day to see her standing chatting on the concourse wearing of all things, leggings, expensive, good quality leggings, but leggings nonetheless.
His surprise quickly abated however as he looked at the exquisite fit of the leggings and he was just thinking to himself that she had a very nice arse, when she shifted her body weight from one leg to the other and turned slightly towards him just as a beam of sunlight fell upon her, or at least on the part of her he was looking at, and as it illuminated her hind quarters it revealed as clear as day her big black knickers underneath the exquisitely fitted leggings.
It was at that point he decided to chance his arm; after her conversation was over he got up and went over and intercepted her.
“Lorraine?” he said
“Oh hello” she replied, “Mr. Scanlon isn’t it?”
“Please call me Michael,” he said
“Michael” she complied
Once he had her attention they chatted about the Forest Ridge Golf Club and the upcoming ladies day.
“You must be in with a chance of a medal” Michael said “A player of your standard”
“Oh dear me” she said all flustered “I don’t know about that”
And having duly flattered her to the point of blushing he invited her to lunch which she graciously accepted.
He was confident that she would, after all a woman of her age would always be at the very least flattered by the attention of a younger man especially one 9 years younger.
Michael had always been attracted to older women, not too much older five or ten years normally.
But of course by the time he reached his 50s there seemed to be an overabundance of suitable candidates for his lust, widows mainly, which kept him gainfully employed.
They enjoyed a very pleasant lunch, which consisted of three courses, two bottles of wine and an abundance of flirting, at a very decent restaurant from where after plying her with liberal amounts of wine he drove her home.
“It was a very nice lunch Michael,” she said as he pulled up on the drive outside her very large house. “Thank you”
“My pleasure” he said with further pleasures on his mind and then she asked
“Would you like to come in for coffee?”
“I would love to” he replied
And after coffee Michael did what he was actually invited in to do which was to liberate Lorraine from her expensive leggings and tug off her classy black knickers off her plump mature arse and too their mutual pleasure gave her a proper Sunday service in her deceased husband favourite chair.
The woman in question had just come down the steps from the church and had stopped briefly to converse with friends and by that time he was sitting at a table outside the Café Espresso just opposite the church entrance.
He was not a Christian himself but he was often sat outside the Church on a Sunday morning when church emptied.
Which on the face of it sounds very wrong, but in his defence he sits there waiting for the Phoenix shopping centre to open, but he would have to admit that he did get a kick out of ogling all the Christian women in their Sunday best.
He knew the woman slightly, her name was Lorraine Lyon and they were both members of the same Golf club, Forest Ridge.
She was a very wealthy woman by all accounts, which was self-evident by the way she was dressed, though her financial status was of secondary concern to him when he looked at her.
Everything Lorraine wore was real quality and she was always immaculately turned out.
So he was quite surprised on that day to see her standing chatting on the concourse wearing of all things, leggings, expensive, good quality leggings, but leggings nonetheless.
His surprise quickly abated however as he looked at the exquisite fit of the leggings and he was just thinking to himself that she had a very nice arse, when she shifted her body weight from one leg to the other and turned slightly towards him just as a beam of sunlight fell upon her, or at least on the part of her he was looking at, and as it illuminated her hind quarters it revealed as clear as day her big black knickers underneath the exquisitely fitted leggings.
It was at that point he decided to chance his arm; after her conversation was over he got up and went over and intercepted her.
“Lorraine?” he said
“Oh hello” she replied, “Mr. Scanlon isn’t it?”
“Please call me Michael,” he said
“Michael” she complied
Once he had her attention they chatted about the Forest Ridge Golf Club and the upcoming ladies day.
“You must be in with a chance of a medal” Michael said “A player of your standard”
“Oh dear me” she said all flustered “I don’t know about that”
And having duly flattered her to the point of blushing he invited her to lunch which she graciously accepted.
He was confident that she would, after all a woman of her age would always be at the very least flattered by the attention of a younger man especially one 9 years younger.
Michael had always been attracted to older women, not too much older five or ten years normally.
But of course by the time he reached his 50s there seemed to be an overabundance of suitable candidates for his lust, widows mainly, which kept him gainfully employed.
They enjoyed a very pleasant lunch, which consisted of three courses, two bottles of wine and an abundance of flirting, at a very decent restaurant from where after plying her with liberal amounts of wine he drove her home.
“It was a very nice lunch Michael,” she said as he pulled up on the drive outside her very large house. “Thank you”
“My pleasure” he said with further pleasures on his mind and then she asked
“Would you like to come in for coffee?”
“I would love to” he replied
And after coffee Michael did what he was actually invited in to do which was to liberate Lorraine from her expensive leggings and tug off her classy black knickers off her plump mature arse and too their mutual pleasure gave her a proper Sunday service in her deceased husband favourite chair.
Friday 24 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (010) Molly’s Folly
(Part 01)
Molly Curtis was 5ft 6 with shoulder length blond hair and was a popular nurse at the Winston Churchill Hospital in Abbottsford and the general consensus among doctors and nurses alike was that she had a nice arse, great legs and very decent tits.
Also on the staff at the Churchill was another blond nurse, more timid and less popular, who was her on/off girlfriend Samantha Elliott, who was a slightly plumper version of her lover.
When they first met, Sam thought she had found the one, and fell instantly in love, but for Molly it was different, she didn’t fall in love, she never had, for Molly it was all about the sex.
The other difference between them was that Sam was a lesbian, a woman only lesbian, she only went that way, she had never had a man, she had never been interested in a man, whereas Molly was cut from very different cloth and swung both ways and as often as possible, she loved cock and cunny in equal measure.
But even with Molly’s wandering eye they always seemed to end up back together, Samantha for the love and Molly for the lust.
One of her regular lapses to the other side was with her rich cousin Paul Barker who was a renowned womaniser who had a big house in the village of Clarence a mile or so from Purplemere.
It was a mutually gratifying relationship as Paul put it about every bit as much as she did.
Molly had suggested to Sam that a weekend away would be nice, a change of scenery which could only help their relationship, although that wasn’t all that Molly was planning.
She proposed a surprise visit to her cousin’s house on the pretence of using it as a base for a weekend in the Vale, Samantha however saw through this ruse immediately and refused to go.
“You only want to go to Paul’s so you can have unnatural relations with him” she said
“That’s not the reason at all babe” Molly said, “The thought never crossed my mind, honestly”
A long protracted argument ensued and ended with Samantha saying
“You have to promise you won’t have sex with Paul, or I’m not coming”
“Nor am I by the sounds of it” Molly thought to herself
“Ok I promise” she lied
“Cross you heart” Sam insisted
“What?” Molly said “how old you?”
“Just do it” she said
“Alright” she said and made the gesture “Cross my heart”
On the journey down from Abbottsford, Molly was in reflective mood as she mulled over in her mind the different scenarios that might lead to her getting what she wanted from her kissing cousin without Sam finding out.
However when they got to Clarence they found Paul’s house in complete darkness and no sign at all of Paul himself.
The reason for his absence on their arrival was that at that precise moment he was a mile and a half away in a bus shelter snogging a large breasted member of the darts team by the name of Brenda, after a drunken evening in the Rose and Crown.
(Part 02)
When Molly and Samantha arrived at her Cousins house he was a mile and a half away in a bus shelter snogging a large breasted member of the darts team by the name of Brenda, after a drunken evening in the Rose and Crown.
However a snog was all he got from her and he had a long walk home with lover’s balls.
But it appeared to all intents and purposes that Molly Curtis was going to get even less than that from him.
When Paul did finally arrive home nursing his aching balls, he was surprised and pleased to see Molly’s car parked outside the house, he put his hand on the bonnet and it was still barely warm to the touch so he figured it must have been there for a while.
His first thought was to go and find his kissing cousin and she how hot her engine was and ease the ache in his lover’s balls.
The house was in complete darkness so he assumed Molly had already turned in but he knew precisely how to wake her up and what with.
But before he went upstairs to give Molly a thorough wakening he went into the lounge to take his shoes off. But due to a combination of excessive alcohol, the long walk home from his ball aching snog with Brenda, and a ridiculous number of late nights, which had clearly taken their toll on him so when he sat down on the sofa so he promptly fell asleep and woke up in the same place 6 hours later.
When he did wake up he still had the vivid images in his mind of naked lady darts players performing every conceivable sexual act on him and as a result of his sensual dreaming he was sporting a spectacular early riser.
His dawn horn wasn’t the only stiffness he felt when he rose from the sofa but he thought a long hot bath later in the day would sort that out and he had other plans to ease his other stiffness.
But before he went to surprise Molly, Paul stood in the downstairs bathroom trying to piss, not easily achieved with a significant boner, he found adopting the ski jumper stance was the most effective but by no means fool proof.
He thought he would have to mop that mess up later in the day.
Once he had finished he looked down at his erection
“So what are we going to do with you?” he said
The leading contender was of course Molly who was A) a nice comfortable shag, red hot and horny and B) in the house at that very moment, red hot and horny.
“She’ll do,” he said and quickly undressed, had a wash in the sink, cleaned his teeth, rinsed with mouthwash and squirted liberally with deodorant and then addressing his erection, said
“Now let’s go for a spot of borderline incest”
(Part 03)
He crept upstairs to the spare room and slipped into bed, Molly was lying on her side with her back to him so he cuddled up and spooned her.
“Mmmmm” she murmured as he nuzzled her neck and slid his hand round on to her breast.
As he toyed and teased her nipple he kissed her skin and breathed in her perfume, which was an unfamiliar fragrance.
He moved his hand swiftly down her belly and she parted her thighs in anticipation of his digits arrival.
“Mmmmm” she acquiesced as his fingers crept closer and closer and then were awash between her freshly waxed lips.
“Good old Moll” he thought always keen as mustard
It didn’t take much attention from his fingers to get her to the edge of the abyss and before very long she reached around and took hold of him and guided his erection roughly inside her and she buried her face in the pillow to supress the animal grunts that escaped her as he fully entered her.
Similar grunts followed on receipt of each subsequent penetration until she let out a deeper muffled grunt and she went rigid as she came a fraction sooner than he.
She relaxed and they lay still for a moment enjoying the afterglow until he patted her arse, kissed her shoulder and withdrew.
“I’ll see you later babe” he said
“Mmmmm” she murmured
Paul slipped out of bed and left the room, his manhood still wet from its outing and to his surprise he met Molly coming the other way, wrapped in a damp towel.
Paul did a double take, “how the hell did she get out of the room before me” he thought.
Molly didn’t speak at first, she just looked at Paul and then his wet semi hard cock, then at Paul again and then back to his shrivelling dick.
“You just fucked Samantha,” she said accusingly
“While I was taking a bath, you fucked Samantha” and then she laughed.
“I thought it was you,” he said in his defence
“You didn’t notice anything different?” Molly asked
“It wasn’t your usual perfume” he replied
“Really?” she said inquisitively “You noticed my perfume was different but you didn’t notice the fact I’d grown a huge arse”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say about your friend,” Paul said reproachfully
“She’s not my friend, she’s my girlfriend” Molly corrected him
“Ah” He uttered “I just thought you’d filled out a bit”
“Filled out a bit, filled out a bit,” she repeated disbelievingly
“How could you not tell I’d grown two dress sizes?”
She said and punched him on the arm but then she was laughing again
“Her arse is much bigger than mine” she reiterated and punched him again then she looked at his droopy cock again.
“Isn’t it?” She asked forcefully and Paul nodded
Molly disposed of her towel and displayed her wares in front of him, her amazing tits, flat belly and hairless pussy.
“Just to remind you what a tidy body looks like” Molly said and then she knelt down in front of him and took his greasy cock in her mouth and removed every last trace of Samantha from him and sucked him back to life, then she stood up and kissed him.
“Did you know that Samantha told me I couldn’t fuck you this weekend,” she said cocking a thumb in the direction of the spare room “And then she goes and gets fucked instead”
“Well, all bets are off now” she said as she gripped his shaft and led Paul like a bull to slaughter into his bedroom.
“Now it’s time for the real Molly Curtis to get some cock”
Molly Curtis was 5ft 6 with shoulder length blond hair and was a popular nurse at the Winston Churchill Hospital in Abbottsford and the general consensus among doctors and nurses alike was that she had a nice arse, great legs and very decent tits.
Also on the staff at the Churchill was another blond nurse, more timid and less popular, who was her on/off girlfriend Samantha Elliott, who was a slightly plumper version of her lover.
When they first met, Sam thought she had found the one, and fell instantly in love, but for Molly it was different, she didn’t fall in love, she never had, for Molly it was all about the sex.
The other difference between them was that Sam was a lesbian, a woman only lesbian, she only went that way, she had never had a man, she had never been interested in a man, whereas Molly was cut from very different cloth and swung both ways and as often as possible, she loved cock and cunny in equal measure.
But even with Molly’s wandering eye they always seemed to end up back together, Samantha for the love and Molly for the lust.
One of her regular lapses to the other side was with her rich cousin Paul Barker who was a renowned womaniser who had a big house in the village of Clarence a mile or so from Purplemere.
It was a mutually gratifying relationship as Paul put it about every bit as much as she did.
Molly had suggested to Sam that a weekend away would be nice, a change of scenery which could only help their relationship, although that wasn’t all that Molly was planning.
She proposed a surprise visit to her cousin’s house on the pretence of using it as a base for a weekend in the Vale, Samantha however saw through this ruse immediately and refused to go.
“You only want to go to Paul’s so you can have unnatural relations with him” she said
“That’s not the reason at all babe” Molly said, “The thought never crossed my mind, honestly”
A long protracted argument ensued and ended with Samantha saying
“You have to promise you won’t have sex with Paul, or I’m not coming”
“Nor am I by the sounds of it” Molly thought to herself
“Ok I promise” she lied
“Cross you heart” Sam insisted
“What?” Molly said “how old you?”
“Just do it” she said
“Alright” she said and made the gesture “Cross my heart”
On the journey down from Abbottsford, Molly was in reflective mood as she mulled over in her mind the different scenarios that might lead to her getting what she wanted from her kissing cousin without Sam finding out.
However when they got to Clarence they found Paul’s house in complete darkness and no sign at all of Paul himself.
The reason for his absence on their arrival was that at that precise moment he was a mile and a half away in a bus shelter snogging a large breasted member of the darts team by the name of Brenda, after a drunken evening in the Rose and Crown.
(Part 02)
When Molly and Samantha arrived at her Cousins house he was a mile and a half away in a bus shelter snogging a large breasted member of the darts team by the name of Brenda, after a drunken evening in the Rose and Crown.
However a snog was all he got from her and he had a long walk home with lover’s balls.
But it appeared to all intents and purposes that Molly Curtis was going to get even less than that from him.
When Paul did finally arrive home nursing his aching balls, he was surprised and pleased to see Molly’s car parked outside the house, he put his hand on the bonnet and it was still barely warm to the touch so he figured it must have been there for a while.
His first thought was to go and find his kissing cousin and she how hot her engine was and ease the ache in his lover’s balls.
The house was in complete darkness so he assumed Molly had already turned in but he knew precisely how to wake her up and what with.
But before he went upstairs to give Molly a thorough wakening he went into the lounge to take his shoes off. But due to a combination of excessive alcohol, the long walk home from his ball aching snog with Brenda, and a ridiculous number of late nights, which had clearly taken their toll on him so when he sat down on the sofa so he promptly fell asleep and woke up in the same place 6 hours later.
When he did wake up he still had the vivid images in his mind of naked lady darts players performing every conceivable sexual act on him and as a result of his sensual dreaming he was sporting a spectacular early riser.
His dawn horn wasn’t the only stiffness he felt when he rose from the sofa but he thought a long hot bath later in the day would sort that out and he had other plans to ease his other stiffness.
But before he went to surprise Molly, Paul stood in the downstairs bathroom trying to piss, not easily achieved with a significant boner, he found adopting the ski jumper stance was the most effective but by no means fool proof.
He thought he would have to mop that mess up later in the day.
Once he had finished he looked down at his erection
“So what are we going to do with you?” he said
The leading contender was of course Molly who was A) a nice comfortable shag, red hot and horny and B) in the house at that very moment, red hot and horny.
“She’ll do,” he said and quickly undressed, had a wash in the sink, cleaned his teeth, rinsed with mouthwash and squirted liberally with deodorant and then addressing his erection, said
“Now let’s go for a spot of borderline incest”
(Part 03)
He crept upstairs to the spare room and slipped into bed, Molly was lying on her side with her back to him so he cuddled up and spooned her.
“Mmmmm” she murmured as he nuzzled her neck and slid his hand round on to her breast.
As he toyed and teased her nipple he kissed her skin and breathed in her perfume, which was an unfamiliar fragrance.
He moved his hand swiftly down her belly and she parted her thighs in anticipation of his digits arrival.
“Mmmmm” she acquiesced as his fingers crept closer and closer and then were awash between her freshly waxed lips.
“Good old Moll” he thought always keen as mustard
It didn’t take much attention from his fingers to get her to the edge of the abyss and before very long she reached around and took hold of him and guided his erection roughly inside her and she buried her face in the pillow to supress the animal grunts that escaped her as he fully entered her.
Similar grunts followed on receipt of each subsequent penetration until she let out a deeper muffled grunt and she went rigid as she came a fraction sooner than he.
She relaxed and they lay still for a moment enjoying the afterglow until he patted her arse, kissed her shoulder and withdrew.
“I’ll see you later babe” he said
“Mmmmm” she murmured
Paul slipped out of bed and left the room, his manhood still wet from its outing and to his surprise he met Molly coming the other way, wrapped in a damp towel.
Paul did a double take, “how the hell did she get out of the room before me” he thought.
Molly didn’t speak at first, she just looked at Paul and then his wet semi hard cock, then at Paul again and then back to his shrivelling dick.
“You just fucked Samantha,” she said accusingly
“While I was taking a bath, you fucked Samantha” and then she laughed.
“I thought it was you,” he said in his defence
“You didn’t notice anything different?” Molly asked
“It wasn’t your usual perfume” he replied
“Really?” she said inquisitively “You noticed my perfume was different but you didn’t notice the fact I’d grown a huge arse”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say about your friend,” Paul said reproachfully
“She’s not my friend, she’s my girlfriend” Molly corrected him
“Ah” He uttered “I just thought you’d filled out a bit”
“Filled out a bit, filled out a bit,” she repeated disbelievingly
“How could you not tell I’d grown two dress sizes?”
She said and punched him on the arm but then she was laughing again
“Her arse is much bigger than mine” she reiterated and punched him again then she looked at his droopy cock again.
“Isn’t it?” She asked forcefully and Paul nodded
Molly disposed of her towel and displayed her wares in front of him, her amazing tits, flat belly and hairless pussy.
“Just to remind you what a tidy body looks like” Molly said and then she knelt down in front of him and took his greasy cock in her mouth and removed every last trace of Samantha from him and sucked him back to life, then she stood up and kissed him.
“Did you know that Samantha told me I couldn’t fuck you this weekend,” she said cocking a thumb in the direction of the spare room “And then she goes and gets fucked instead”
“Well, all bets are off now” she said as she gripped his shaft and led Paul like a bull to slaughter into his bedroom.
“Now it’s time for the real Molly Curtis to get some cock”
Thursday 23 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (009) In Funereal Finery
One of the inevitable side effects of getting older is that you seem to attend more and more funerals with every passing year, which is ironically just part of life, but for me funerals have had a profoundly erotic effect upon me ever since the incident that occurred on the morning of my grandfather’s funeral in 1963 when I was just 13 years old.
We were all staying at my grandparent’s home in Childean and it was a full house so I took the chance amidst the hustle and bustle to sneak into my Aunt Julie’s bedroom while she was having a bath so I could go in her handbag and pinch a couple of cigarettes.
But she finished in the bathroom sooner than I anticipated, so not wishing to get in trouble for stealing I hid in the wardrobe instead.
I was hoping she had just forgotten something and wouldn’t be long and would return to the bathroom but she didn’t so I just waited and watched her.
She was sitting on the bed as she dried her long brown hair which was very boring and I thought about stepping out and confessing but then she stood up and I watched her as she turned her back to me and began drying her curvaceous body with a large bath sheet but she offered tantalizing glimpses of what was hidden from view and all of a sudden I was sporting a serious woody.
I carried on watching as my stork grew until the moment she turned around and threw the towel on the bed and I saw the first naked woman of my life.
My eyes were like saucers as they were drawn first to her great globular breasts, surmounted by erect pink teats and then down to the fluffy curly brown triangle and as I fidgeted in the closet I came in my pants.
Even after I’d shot my load it didn’t stop me looking at her as she began to dress, first she put on her black suspender belt around her narrow waist and then pulled on a pair of black silk French drawers.
Aunt Julie did each item deliciously slowly just as if she knew she was playing to an appreciative audience.
Next she sat on the bed and pulled on the first of her seamed black stocking up her long slender leg and as she leant forward to fasten the suspender her breasts hung voluptuously then at the same slow deliberate pace she repeated the process for the second stocking.
Aunt Julie stood up after fastening the second suspender and seemed to look straight at me and smiled before she harnessed her large round breasts in a black lacy construction.
And when she had finished fastening her bra I saw the image to which every woman would be subsequently compared for the rest of my life.
The addition of an under slip did not diminish my appreciation of her but when the dress went on I knew the show was over.
I had to continue to wait in the closet with sticky pants for another 25 minutes after she finished dressing while she applied her makeup and only when she finally went downstairs could I escape my hiding place and change my pants.
As I got to the door I looked back towards the wardrobe and I could see the reason I thought she was looking at me and smiling because next to the wardrobe door was a full-length mirror.
That day stamped a mark on me that has lasted a lifetime and now whenever I see a woman in Funereal Finery I get aroused.
Most of my sexual triumphs over the years have occurred as a result of meeting women at funerals.
At Aunt Julie’s wake under the pretence of consoling her I managed to seduce her daughter Elaine, of course the underwear was different, tights instead of Stockings, satin instead of silk a thong instead of French drawers.
But the contents were every inch the likeness of her mothers.
I suppose I should feel shame for what I’ve done, exploiting the vulnerable at their time of grief but I don’t and I even attend the funerals of people I don’t even know just to meet women.
We were all staying at my grandparent’s home in Childean and it was a full house so I took the chance amidst the hustle and bustle to sneak into my Aunt Julie’s bedroom while she was having a bath so I could go in her handbag and pinch a couple of cigarettes.
But she finished in the bathroom sooner than I anticipated, so not wishing to get in trouble for stealing I hid in the wardrobe instead.
I was hoping she had just forgotten something and wouldn’t be long and would return to the bathroom but she didn’t so I just waited and watched her.
She was sitting on the bed as she dried her long brown hair which was very boring and I thought about stepping out and confessing but then she stood up and I watched her as she turned her back to me and began drying her curvaceous body with a large bath sheet but she offered tantalizing glimpses of what was hidden from view and all of a sudden I was sporting a serious woody.
I carried on watching as my stork grew until the moment she turned around and threw the towel on the bed and I saw the first naked woman of my life.
My eyes were like saucers as they were drawn first to her great globular breasts, surmounted by erect pink teats and then down to the fluffy curly brown triangle and as I fidgeted in the closet I came in my pants.
Even after I’d shot my load it didn’t stop me looking at her as she began to dress, first she put on her black suspender belt around her narrow waist and then pulled on a pair of black silk French drawers.
Aunt Julie did each item deliciously slowly just as if she knew she was playing to an appreciative audience.
Next she sat on the bed and pulled on the first of her seamed black stocking up her long slender leg and as she leant forward to fasten the suspender her breasts hung voluptuously then at the same slow deliberate pace she repeated the process for the second stocking.
Aunt Julie stood up after fastening the second suspender and seemed to look straight at me and smiled before she harnessed her large round breasts in a black lacy construction.
And when she had finished fastening her bra I saw the image to which every woman would be subsequently compared for the rest of my life.
The addition of an under slip did not diminish my appreciation of her but when the dress went on I knew the show was over.
I had to continue to wait in the closet with sticky pants for another 25 minutes after she finished dressing while she applied her makeup and only when she finally went downstairs could I escape my hiding place and change my pants.
As I got to the door I looked back towards the wardrobe and I could see the reason I thought she was looking at me and smiling because next to the wardrobe door was a full-length mirror.
That day stamped a mark on me that has lasted a lifetime and now whenever I see a woman in Funereal Finery I get aroused.
Most of my sexual triumphs over the years have occurred as a result of meeting women at funerals.
At Aunt Julie’s wake under the pretence of consoling her I managed to seduce her daughter Elaine, of course the underwear was different, tights instead of Stockings, satin instead of silk a thong instead of French drawers.
But the contents were every inch the likeness of her mothers.
I suppose I should feel shame for what I’ve done, exploiting the vulnerable at their time of grief but I don’t and I even attend the funerals of people I don’t even know just to meet women.
Wednesday 22 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (008) Just Being Neighbourly
(Part 01)
When it all began, Leon Watson lived in a detached house in Dulcet Green with his wife of 25 years, Mary.
Although in truth that was stretching a point, it wasn’t so much living, it would perhaps have been more accurately described as an existence.
That was because Leon and Mary lived completely separate lives, they had separate bedrooms and had totally different interests, and different circles of friends, and by that stage they might just as well have been strangers.
In fact Leon didn’t really know why they stayed together, laziness perhaps.
They had no children, no pets and not even a single friend in common and they only had sex on special occasions which in Leon’s opinion was the only special thing about it.
If they’d had an ounce of common sense between them they would have divorced long before they reached 25 years, but Mary believed marriage was a lifetime commitment or more precisely a life sentence.
That didn’t mean anything to him, what kept him in the marriage though was that although he had long since stopped loving his wife he really loved the house.
And what happened just before Easter would lead to something that would make Leon love the house even more.
It was when Leon’s next door neighbours, The Brown’s moved to Cheltenham, he was something in the foreign office and he was offered a two year secondment to GCHQ.
The Brown’s decided to rent the house out in the short term and then they would sell it later should the secondment end up becoming a permanent position.
So it was on a warm day in May when the new tenants moved in to the house next door.
The house had been rented by two elderly sisters, the Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s, who were retired colonial missionary types returning to Downshire after working for many years in China.
And in addition to the two old biddies they brought with them, a live in cook housekeeper who was a dowdy and frumpish looking woman of indeterminate age who by outward appearance could have been anything between 25 and 35 years old with mousy hair and functional spectacles.
Leon noticed them move in as he was working from home, which he did at least 3 days a week, more when he could get away with it, which he was able to do quite often because he was a freelance architect.
So it was due to his “working from home” that he got to see them move in and the reason he would eventually get to know the frump.
In truth although Leon worked from home he seldom spent more than a couple of hours a day actually working.
This less than productive work ethic enabled him to spend more time doing what he loved to do, reading, listening to music, watching films and making sure the gardeners did a proper job, in fact pretty much anything that wasn’t actually working.
He always got up early every morning and cracked on with his work early doors and achieved his modest goal by about 11.00, always keeping some in hand that he could do during the evening and therefore avoid having to speak to Mary any more than was necessary.
Finishing his work early also allowed him to make himself useful in a small way to the new neighbours, well to the frump in any case, which in truth mainly involved his sitting in the Brackhampton-Finch’s kitchen drinking the frump’s excellent coffee.
The frump’s real name was Pauline Boyle and she was an Australian girl who had started working for the Brackhampton-Finch’s when they lived in China.
When they announced their plans to return to England because Pauline was such a good housekeeper and such an excellent cook they asked her to move with them and even offered to pay her passage to the UK on the proviso that she remained with them for a minimum of two years.
As she had always wanted to travel to England so she accepted because she knew she would never be able to do it otherwise.
(Part 02)
Leon got on well with Pauline in the short time she had been his neighbour, chatting over the kitchen table drinking her excellent coffee, but not quite as well as he was about too.
The summer was well underway when one day after he had achieved his meagre work target he walked out into the garden and over the fence he saw Pauline dancing on the patio with a large glass of wine in her hand.
“Are you having a party?” he shouted over the fence on the hot June afternoon.
“Sort of” she replied “come and join me Leon”
“Ok” he said and walked around to the back gate
“So what’s the occasion?” he asked when he reached the patio and she poured him a glass of wine
“The Brackhampton-Finch’s have gone to Canterbury for an ecumenical council meeting” Pauline replied
She had clearly had more than the one glass of wine as she failed quite spectacularly to say ecumenical.
“And they’re clearly not coming back today” Leon said
“No” Pauline said “the day after tomorrow”
It was the first time he had seen Pauline so relaxed, but then he was well aware that an excess of alcohol will do that.
The Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s were very old fashioned and Pauline had to keep herself covered at all times with no hint of femininity visible or God forbid any hint of sexuality.
But to counteract this Pauline had a unique way of levelling the playing field so to speak which he was to find out about in due course.
However as the sisters were away which was why on that summer’s afternoon she was wearing a dress which showed off a figure that was hitherto unrecognised, unnoticed or even hinted at.
By late afternoon the combination of too much wine and too much sun found the two of them dancing on the patio to the dulcet tones of Barbara Streisand singing “The way we were”
But by the time Neil Diamond began to croon “Love on the rocks” Pauline was nibbling vigorously on his ear.
His immediate reaction was that he should nip it in the bud, he was a married man after all, albeit unhappily, and she was very much the worse for drink.
So he pulled his ear out of reach of her mouth and occupied it otherwise by kissing it which she reciprocated immediately in a wet slavery drink induced snog.
Leon knew it was wrong and he knew the right thing to do was to stop, but it was a hot day, he was merry, and very, very horny and as he hadn’t had any kind of sexual encounter with anywhere near that level of passion for more years than he could remember.
So instead of stopping proceedings he started fondling her not insubstantial breasts through the fabric of her dress which made her kissing even more wet and slavery.
“Stop now” he said to himself “while you still can, stop before you pass the point of no return”
But he didn’t listen and then he reached around her back and deftly pulled down the zipper on her dress instead.
In response she disengaged her mouth from his and let the dress fall to the floor to reveal some very unchristian underwear in red satin with black lace trim.
Then she began kissing him again even more fervently and so he immediately tried to undo her bra, but she stopped him abruptly.
“No” she shouted and Leon cursed himself for going too far too quickly.
”Not here” she said and then she took hold of his hand and led him through the French doors into the dining room.
Once inside she reached around her back and unhooked her bra herself and playfully threw it at his face.
“Now you can carry on” she said and he happily complied
Leon cupped her great white breasts and then pushed her backwards against the Brackhampton-Finch’s mahogany dining table.
He slid his hands up the backs of her thighs until he reached the fleshy cheeks of her buttocks, which he caressed and squeezed before he pulled her knickers off her cheeks and then he seated her on the table so he could completely remove her pants.
And no sooner had he slipped them off her ankles she was dragging his cock from his shorts.
She gave him a few encouraging tugs and then she lay back and let him penetrated her on the expensive mahogany dining table which he did with vigour until her hoarse scream rang out on the balmy June air.
(Part 03)
After he had sullied her on the Mahogany Dining table, they lay together in the afterglow on one of the Brackhampton-Finch sister’s many Chinese rugs and she told him how, to make up for her drab and dreary exterior she chose to wear very exotic underwear, the sexier or sluttier the better.
She also told him how when an elderly Bishop friend of the sisters was invited for afternoon tea, Pauline served it to his grace wearing stockings, suspenders and crotch less panties.
That was extraordinary behaviour for someone in a Christian household though as she was not a Christian herself it was not as bad.
They had another glass of wine as the lay on the rug in the dining room until she noticed that life was returning to his flaccid organ.
“Would you like to come to my room and look at my knicker collection?” she suggested “I think your friend does”
“If he’s interested then count me in” Leon replied
When they stood up she looked across at the dining table and laughed
“What’s so funny?” he asked
“That’s going to take some polishing” she replied pointing at the sticky patch of their joint contributions that looked like a giant snail trail.
Their next joint contributions were left on Paula’s bed linen.
Which was where he left Paula sleeping when he went home in time to have dinner with his darling wife.
As it turned out he needn’t have bothered because she called to say she was eating out and wouldn’t be back until late.
So he put a frozen dinner in the microwave and had a shower and a shave, then he ate his dinner in front of the TV and was back inside the Brackhampton-Finch’s ten minutes later and back inside Paula ten minutes after that.
That hot sensual June afternoon was the first of many sexual encounters between Leon and Pauline either in the Brackhampton-Finch’s house when they were out or at Leon’s when he was working at home and she had her days off.
They discussed at length how to employ a simple signalling system, to indicate their availability but after many and various suggestion they favoured the one where she would hang her scarlet satin knickers in her bedroom window to show that the coast was clear and she was ready for action.
But in the end she decided that a text would suffice along the lines of
“I’m horny come and fuck me”
The exact wording varied but that was the gist.
Paula felt no guilt for her wanton behaviour and Leon felt no guilt for that first day for what they did or any of the subsequent occasions, after all to his way of thinking he was just being neighbourly.
When it all began, Leon Watson lived in a detached house in Dulcet Green with his wife of 25 years, Mary.
Although in truth that was stretching a point, it wasn’t so much living, it would perhaps have been more accurately described as an existence.
That was because Leon and Mary lived completely separate lives, they had separate bedrooms and had totally different interests, and different circles of friends, and by that stage they might just as well have been strangers.
In fact Leon didn’t really know why they stayed together, laziness perhaps.
They had no children, no pets and not even a single friend in common and they only had sex on special occasions which in Leon’s opinion was the only special thing about it.
If they’d had an ounce of common sense between them they would have divorced long before they reached 25 years, but Mary believed marriage was a lifetime commitment or more precisely a life sentence.
That didn’t mean anything to him, what kept him in the marriage though was that although he had long since stopped loving his wife he really loved the house.
And what happened just before Easter would lead to something that would make Leon love the house even more.
It was when Leon’s next door neighbours, The Brown’s moved to Cheltenham, he was something in the foreign office and he was offered a two year secondment to GCHQ.
The Brown’s decided to rent the house out in the short term and then they would sell it later should the secondment end up becoming a permanent position.
So it was on a warm day in May when the new tenants moved in to the house next door.
The house had been rented by two elderly sisters, the Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s, who were retired colonial missionary types returning to Downshire after working for many years in China.
And in addition to the two old biddies they brought with them, a live in cook housekeeper who was a dowdy and frumpish looking woman of indeterminate age who by outward appearance could have been anything between 25 and 35 years old with mousy hair and functional spectacles.
Leon noticed them move in as he was working from home, which he did at least 3 days a week, more when he could get away with it, which he was able to do quite often because he was a freelance architect.
So it was due to his “working from home” that he got to see them move in and the reason he would eventually get to know the frump.
In truth although Leon worked from home he seldom spent more than a couple of hours a day actually working.
This less than productive work ethic enabled him to spend more time doing what he loved to do, reading, listening to music, watching films and making sure the gardeners did a proper job, in fact pretty much anything that wasn’t actually working.
He always got up early every morning and cracked on with his work early doors and achieved his modest goal by about 11.00, always keeping some in hand that he could do during the evening and therefore avoid having to speak to Mary any more than was necessary.
Finishing his work early also allowed him to make himself useful in a small way to the new neighbours, well to the frump in any case, which in truth mainly involved his sitting in the Brackhampton-Finch’s kitchen drinking the frump’s excellent coffee.
The frump’s real name was Pauline Boyle and she was an Australian girl who had started working for the Brackhampton-Finch’s when they lived in China.
When they announced their plans to return to England because Pauline was such a good housekeeper and such an excellent cook they asked her to move with them and even offered to pay her passage to the UK on the proviso that she remained with them for a minimum of two years.
As she had always wanted to travel to England so she accepted because she knew she would never be able to do it otherwise.
(Part 02)
Leon got on well with Pauline in the short time she had been his neighbour, chatting over the kitchen table drinking her excellent coffee, but not quite as well as he was about too.
The summer was well underway when one day after he had achieved his meagre work target he walked out into the garden and over the fence he saw Pauline dancing on the patio with a large glass of wine in her hand.
“Are you having a party?” he shouted over the fence on the hot June afternoon.
“Sort of” she replied “come and join me Leon”
“Ok” he said and walked around to the back gate
“So what’s the occasion?” he asked when he reached the patio and she poured him a glass of wine
“The Brackhampton-Finch’s have gone to Canterbury for an ecumenical council meeting” Pauline replied
She had clearly had more than the one glass of wine as she failed quite spectacularly to say ecumenical.
“And they’re clearly not coming back today” Leon said
“No” Pauline said “the day after tomorrow”
It was the first time he had seen Pauline so relaxed, but then he was well aware that an excess of alcohol will do that.
The Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s were very old fashioned and Pauline had to keep herself covered at all times with no hint of femininity visible or God forbid any hint of sexuality.
But to counteract this Pauline had a unique way of levelling the playing field so to speak which he was to find out about in due course.
However as the sisters were away which was why on that summer’s afternoon she was wearing a dress which showed off a figure that was hitherto unrecognised, unnoticed or even hinted at.
By late afternoon the combination of too much wine and too much sun found the two of them dancing on the patio to the dulcet tones of Barbara Streisand singing “The way we were”
But by the time Neil Diamond began to croon “Love on the rocks” Pauline was nibbling vigorously on his ear.
His immediate reaction was that he should nip it in the bud, he was a married man after all, albeit unhappily, and she was very much the worse for drink.
So he pulled his ear out of reach of her mouth and occupied it otherwise by kissing it which she reciprocated immediately in a wet slavery drink induced snog.
Leon knew it was wrong and he knew the right thing to do was to stop, but it was a hot day, he was merry, and very, very horny and as he hadn’t had any kind of sexual encounter with anywhere near that level of passion for more years than he could remember.
So instead of stopping proceedings he started fondling her not insubstantial breasts through the fabric of her dress which made her kissing even more wet and slavery.
“Stop now” he said to himself “while you still can, stop before you pass the point of no return”
But he didn’t listen and then he reached around her back and deftly pulled down the zipper on her dress instead.
In response she disengaged her mouth from his and let the dress fall to the floor to reveal some very unchristian underwear in red satin with black lace trim.
Then she began kissing him again even more fervently and so he immediately tried to undo her bra, but she stopped him abruptly.
“No” she shouted and Leon cursed himself for going too far too quickly.
”Not here” she said and then she took hold of his hand and led him through the French doors into the dining room.
Once inside she reached around her back and unhooked her bra herself and playfully threw it at his face.
“Now you can carry on” she said and he happily complied
Leon cupped her great white breasts and then pushed her backwards against the Brackhampton-Finch’s mahogany dining table.
He slid his hands up the backs of her thighs until he reached the fleshy cheeks of her buttocks, which he caressed and squeezed before he pulled her knickers off her cheeks and then he seated her on the table so he could completely remove her pants.
And no sooner had he slipped them off her ankles she was dragging his cock from his shorts.
She gave him a few encouraging tugs and then she lay back and let him penetrated her on the expensive mahogany dining table which he did with vigour until her hoarse scream rang out on the balmy June air.
(Part 03)
After he had sullied her on the Mahogany Dining table, they lay together in the afterglow on one of the Brackhampton-Finch sister’s many Chinese rugs and she told him how, to make up for her drab and dreary exterior she chose to wear very exotic underwear, the sexier or sluttier the better.
She also told him how when an elderly Bishop friend of the sisters was invited for afternoon tea, Pauline served it to his grace wearing stockings, suspenders and crotch less panties.
That was extraordinary behaviour for someone in a Christian household though as she was not a Christian herself it was not as bad.
They had another glass of wine as the lay on the rug in the dining room until she noticed that life was returning to his flaccid organ.
“Would you like to come to my room and look at my knicker collection?” she suggested “I think your friend does”
“If he’s interested then count me in” Leon replied
When they stood up she looked across at the dining table and laughed
“What’s so funny?” he asked
“That’s going to take some polishing” she replied pointing at the sticky patch of their joint contributions that looked like a giant snail trail.
Their next joint contributions were left on Paula’s bed linen.
Which was where he left Paula sleeping when he went home in time to have dinner with his darling wife.
As it turned out he needn’t have bothered because she called to say she was eating out and wouldn’t be back until late.
So he put a frozen dinner in the microwave and had a shower and a shave, then he ate his dinner in front of the TV and was back inside the Brackhampton-Finch’s ten minutes later and back inside Paula ten minutes after that.
That hot sensual June afternoon was the first of many sexual encounters between Leon and Pauline either in the Brackhampton-Finch’s house when they were out or at Leon’s when he was working at home and she had her days off.
They discussed at length how to employ a simple signalling system, to indicate their availability but after many and various suggestion they favoured the one where she would hang her scarlet satin knickers in her bedroom window to show that the coast was clear and she was ready for action.
But in the end she decided that a text would suffice along the lines of
“I’m horny come and fuck me”
The exact wording varied but that was the gist.
Paula felt no guilt for her wanton behaviour and Leon felt no guilt for that first day for what they did or any of the subsequent occasions, after all to his way of thinking he was just being neighbourly.
Tuesday 21 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (007) The Mysterious Case of the Bottle Blonde
(Part 01)
Emma Chambers was what would once have been called a bottle blonde, she was also a three time divorcee and one time widow and she was just the wrong side of fifty, but despite her age she filled a sweater very well indeed and her well-shaped arse was tailor made for tight jeans which she rarely failed to occupy to maximum effect and managed to please any man with a connoisseur’s eye.
One such man was Mark Aldridge who found her form very pleasing to his lecherous eye and in addition to her obvious assets she also had the added attraction of an all pervading sensuous musky perfume which when he got in close proximity to her he found extremely arousing.
Emma was a close friend of Mark’s wife Sue, and it was because of Emma that the Aldridge’s and she were at Clayton Manor for the murder mystery weekend in the first place for Sue’s birthday treat.
The Clayton Manor Hotel was situated in the village of Clayton tucked away in the North East corner of the Finchbottom Vale.
It was once the home a wealthy Downshire family but like so many similar great houses in the county it fell into disuse as the fortunes of the owners suffered after the Great War.
It had had many reincarnations since then and had been used for many things over the years but it wasn’t until the 80s that it became The Clayton Manor Hotel.
But things had got tough in the hotel trade with the success of Travelodge, Premier Inn and Holiday Inn Express and so places like the Clayton Manor needed to offer something extra to attract the guests.
So they put on novelty weekends, one of which was the Murder Mystery weekend.
It was something that appealed very much to Sue and she was really looking forward to it, and so was Emma.
It wasn’t Mark’s cup of tea and even if it was up his street it was far too rich for his blood which was why the merry widow stumped up the cash.
He and Sue had known Emma for some time and they often went on trips and outings together.
It suited him very well as the women entertained each other leaving him free to entertain himself, usually on the Golf course and of course he got to enjoy the spectacular view of Emma’s rolling hills.
On these outings he was often preoccupied with his ponderings over whether the contents of Emma’s sweater were real or manmade and what her natural hair colour was.
He was certain of one thing however and that was that the hair on her muff wouldn’t be bottle blonde.
On Saturday morning Mark’s lascivious gaze was rewarded firstly by following on behind her exquisitely tailored arse all the way from their rooms to the dining room and then a long lingering view down her low cut top at her spectacular breasts.
As the three of them spent most of the morning together he had many more opportunities to ogle his wife’s friend and the memory of the prolonged view of her tits and arse severely affected his game as he spent the afternoon on the golf course.
On the Saturday night Mark had to endure the Murder Mystery and was rather bored, fortunately he was rescued from the boredom by Emma who had far too much to drink and was forced to retire early.
However Sue was enjoying the entertainment far too much and didn’t want to miss the conclusion to the mystery so it was left to Mark to help the drunken Emma up to her room.
(Part 02)
All weekend Mark had taken every opportunity to enjoy the view of her abundant goodies as she had been wearing a selection of figure hugging outfits as well as her customary jeans and sweaters but as he guided her along the corridor to her room on Saturday night she was wearing a dress and as he struggled with her through the fire doors there was every chance she might fall out of it.
“Here’s hoping” he thought to himself
When they reached Emma’s room he had to prop her up against the wall.
“Just stand there” he said and then used her key card to open the door.
Once he got her through the door into the room however she suddenly regained her senses and pounced on him, taking him completely by surprise and knocking him backwards onto the bed.
As he lay on the bed like an upturned turtle desperately trying to get back to his feet he looked up at her and she gave him a leery smile before jumping on the bed and straddling him.
“What’s going on?” Mark asked “you can’t do this”
“Stop complaining” Emma ordered “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think nobodies looking”
And she planted a wet alcohol tasting kiss on his mouth which silenced his protests and as her eager tongue poked and probed around his mouth he grabbed her ample arse with both hands and as he groped and needed her fleshy cheeks he thought they felt as good as they looked.
This action Emma took as a sign of submission to her assault so she sat up and unzipped the back of her dress and said
“These are what you’ve been waiting to see”
And then she let the front of her dress fall away to expose her white globular breasts which caused his hands to switch their alliance from buttocks to breasts.
Her mouth returned to his and her serpent like tongue went to work as he teased and toyed with her nipple.
And while her tongue was busy in her mouth her hands busied themselves releasing his he swollen cock from his trousers.
Mission accomplished she climbed off him and wriggled free from her dress and as she stood beside the bed wearing only a pair of black knickers she looked at him with a lustful leer and divested herself of her drawers as well, and then she remounted Mark, only this time she slid her hot eager pussy down his waiting shaft.
As he redressed, he looked down at Emma’s smiling panting body lying naked in her disgrace when she let out a satisfied sigh.
As Mark reached the door he turned to look back at her and he knew she had been no drunker than he was but he was glad he had to escort her to her room.
“I think I’m going to have a headache in the morning”
She said
“And I think I will have just the medicine for you”
He replied and left the room and as he did he knew the contents of Emma’s sweater were indeed all hers and that she was naturally brunette.
When Mark got back to the drawing room he found Sue sitting and talking to one of the actors and when they had finished Sue asked.
“Have you seen to her?”
“Yes dear” He replied “you can definitely consider her seen to”
“Thanks darling” she said and kissed his cheek. “You’re such a good husband”
“Well I know she’s a good friend Sue” he said “but I wasn’t going to let her to spoil your birthday”
“I love you Mark” she said and kissed him again
“Well let’s just make sure she remains a friend” he said to himself “because I want to be a frequent flyer on the Emma Chambers passion express”
Emma Chambers was what would once have been called a bottle blonde, she was also a three time divorcee and one time widow and she was just the wrong side of fifty, but despite her age she filled a sweater very well indeed and her well-shaped arse was tailor made for tight jeans which she rarely failed to occupy to maximum effect and managed to please any man with a connoisseur’s eye.
One such man was Mark Aldridge who found her form very pleasing to his lecherous eye and in addition to her obvious assets she also had the added attraction of an all pervading sensuous musky perfume which when he got in close proximity to her he found extremely arousing.
Emma was a close friend of Mark’s wife Sue, and it was because of Emma that the Aldridge’s and she were at Clayton Manor for the murder mystery weekend in the first place for Sue’s birthday treat.
The Clayton Manor Hotel was situated in the village of Clayton tucked away in the North East corner of the Finchbottom Vale.
It was once the home a wealthy Downshire family but like so many similar great houses in the county it fell into disuse as the fortunes of the owners suffered after the Great War.
It had had many reincarnations since then and had been used for many things over the years but it wasn’t until the 80s that it became The Clayton Manor Hotel.
But things had got tough in the hotel trade with the success of Travelodge, Premier Inn and Holiday Inn Express and so places like the Clayton Manor needed to offer something extra to attract the guests.
So they put on novelty weekends, one of which was the Murder Mystery weekend.
It was something that appealed very much to Sue and she was really looking forward to it, and so was Emma.
It wasn’t Mark’s cup of tea and even if it was up his street it was far too rich for his blood which was why the merry widow stumped up the cash.
He and Sue had known Emma for some time and they often went on trips and outings together.
It suited him very well as the women entertained each other leaving him free to entertain himself, usually on the Golf course and of course he got to enjoy the spectacular view of Emma’s rolling hills.
On these outings he was often preoccupied with his ponderings over whether the contents of Emma’s sweater were real or manmade and what her natural hair colour was.
He was certain of one thing however and that was that the hair on her muff wouldn’t be bottle blonde.
On Saturday morning Mark’s lascivious gaze was rewarded firstly by following on behind her exquisitely tailored arse all the way from their rooms to the dining room and then a long lingering view down her low cut top at her spectacular breasts.
As the three of them spent most of the morning together he had many more opportunities to ogle his wife’s friend and the memory of the prolonged view of her tits and arse severely affected his game as he spent the afternoon on the golf course.
On the Saturday night Mark had to endure the Murder Mystery and was rather bored, fortunately he was rescued from the boredom by Emma who had far too much to drink and was forced to retire early.
However Sue was enjoying the entertainment far too much and didn’t want to miss the conclusion to the mystery so it was left to Mark to help the drunken Emma up to her room.
(Part 02)
All weekend Mark had taken every opportunity to enjoy the view of her abundant goodies as she had been wearing a selection of figure hugging outfits as well as her customary jeans and sweaters but as he guided her along the corridor to her room on Saturday night she was wearing a dress and as he struggled with her through the fire doors there was every chance she might fall out of it.
“Here’s hoping” he thought to himself
When they reached Emma’s room he had to prop her up against the wall.
“Just stand there” he said and then used her key card to open the door.
Once he got her through the door into the room however she suddenly regained her senses and pounced on him, taking him completely by surprise and knocking him backwards onto the bed.
As he lay on the bed like an upturned turtle desperately trying to get back to his feet he looked up at her and she gave him a leery smile before jumping on the bed and straddling him.
“What’s going on?” Mark asked “you can’t do this”
“Stop complaining” Emma ordered “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think nobodies looking”
And she planted a wet alcohol tasting kiss on his mouth which silenced his protests and as her eager tongue poked and probed around his mouth he grabbed her ample arse with both hands and as he groped and needed her fleshy cheeks he thought they felt as good as they looked.
This action Emma took as a sign of submission to her assault so she sat up and unzipped the back of her dress and said
“These are what you’ve been waiting to see”
And then she let the front of her dress fall away to expose her white globular breasts which caused his hands to switch their alliance from buttocks to breasts.
Her mouth returned to his and her serpent like tongue went to work as he teased and toyed with her nipple.
And while her tongue was busy in her mouth her hands busied themselves releasing his he swollen cock from his trousers.
Mission accomplished she climbed off him and wriggled free from her dress and as she stood beside the bed wearing only a pair of black knickers she looked at him with a lustful leer and divested herself of her drawers as well, and then she remounted Mark, only this time she slid her hot eager pussy down his waiting shaft.
As he redressed, he looked down at Emma’s smiling panting body lying naked in her disgrace when she let out a satisfied sigh.
As Mark reached the door he turned to look back at her and he knew she had been no drunker than he was but he was glad he had to escort her to her room.
“I think I’m going to have a headache in the morning”
She said
“And I think I will have just the medicine for you”
He replied and left the room and as he did he knew the contents of Emma’s sweater were indeed all hers and that she was naturally brunette.
When Mark got back to the drawing room he found Sue sitting and talking to one of the actors and when they had finished Sue asked.
“Have you seen to her?”
“Yes dear” He replied “you can definitely consider her seen to”
“Thanks darling” she said and kissed his cheek. “You’re such a good husband”
“Well I know she’s a good friend Sue” he said “but I wasn’t going to let her to spoil your birthday”
“I love you Mark” she said and kissed him again
“Well let’s just make sure she remains a friend” he said to himself “because I want to be a frequent flyer on the Emma Chambers passion express”
Monday 20 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (006) Pink Pants in the Laundry
(Part 01)
It was a perfect early spring morning in the leafy village of Pangmere and the breeze stirred the tree tops and the birds sang to the sun.
And the birds weren’t the only early risers, Sally Carey was lying in bed, warm and cosy beneath the duvet, as the birds twittered in the trees and the early morning light tried to penetrate her bed room.
As she lay there half-awake, half-dreaming, Sally could hear him through the bedroom wall as he stood in the shower and as she listened to the splattering and splashing, she envied every droplet of water as it ran unchecked over his naked skin.
However the root of her envy was because she had been in love with him since she was eleven years old and now that she was almost twenty she wanted him with every fibre of her being.
The subject of her fervent want was Danny Netherton, the elder brother of Sally’s best friend Erin, who at the age of 18 had, to all intents and purposes, by necessity become the father of his 11 year old sister.
Their parents were killed in a tragic car crash on the Pepperstock Expressway during a snow storm and all his hopes and dreams for the future died in the snow along with them.
His plans to study engineering at University and what that might have led to had to be set aside in order for him to raise his little sister, so that she at least would be able to fulfil her potential.
The early years of his enforced parenthood he was almost consumed by his new responsibilities, running the home, nurturing Erin and holding down a job.
But the saving grace for all his sacrifice and being weighed down by responsibility’s at such a young age was that he was a stronger person for the experience and Erin was to become everything their parents would have wished her to be, and he was proud of that result.
Giving up his own academic ambitions had allowed Erin to follow her dreams and she was now at Cambridge University with Sally.
As she lay in the cosy warmth of her bed listening to the water washing over him, images of his wet naked body filled her head and she felt aroused.
Her flesh tingled and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and her nipples erected and she felt that tell-tale feeling as the warmth built deep within her.
The water stopped and the heavy foot fall told her he had stepped out of the shower and then she pictured his wet naked form as he did so, and just a thin stud wall separated her eager want from the object of her lust and desire.
She could see in her mind’s eye each droplet of water dripping from his torso or running freely down his skin and her hand travelled purposely across her belly as her arousal grew.
And as her breathing deepened and her pulse quickened her small delicate fingers slipped beneath the waistband and proceeded further until her whole hand was inside her shorts.
(Part 02)
Her whole hand was inside her shorts as Sally pictured him wet and naked just the other side of the stud wall, she could see the towel now, wrapped around him as she wanted to be wrapped around him and her fingers went quickly between her moist lips and she found she was almost as wet as he was.
Sally was lost in those dreamy creamy thoughts of lust when the door suddenly opened and she heard herself gasp as Danny walked into the room, but her fingers lingered between her juicy lips as she clenched her buttocks tightly and grasped her thighs firmly around her hand, but as she watched him across the room, wearing just a towel her slender digits moved involuntarily and she continued to stroke herself.
Sally knew with him in the room she should stop fingering herself but she couldn’t help herself, she couldn’t stop.
Sally was sleeping in the spare room which also housed the laundry basket and Danny began picking up the laundry that had been discarded in and around the wash bin.
There was always plenty of it when Erin was back from University and even more whenever Sally slept over.
Sally and Erin had been best friend since forever and over the years she had been a regular house guest.
They’d been back from University for a week and the washing had already built up and this was the first opportunity he’d had to get to grips with it.
So as it was Saturday and the girls had gone to a party the night before and had stayed over at another friend’s place he thought he should make a start on the washing.
As he went through the assorted jeans, T-shirts and lingerie, he began to think how quickly time passed by and how quickly his sister and her best friend had grown up.
He smiled to himself as he remembered Erin’s first bra, which was a purely cosmetic device of course when she was twelve.
Then as she grew she went through various stages of padded enhancements and eventually to the full cupped and underwired contraptions she wore today.
It was the same with her pants, in the early days they were childishly embellished with flowers or colourful characters, then they progressed through to practical pants and onto more sophisticated items before progressing on to the skimpy things of lace and bows because is little sister was a grown woman now.
Sally watched as he stood across the room in the half light, his upper body still damp, a towel wrapped around the lower.
He was standing sorting laundry into baskets of light and dark and as he held a pair of pink knickers she recognised them as her own and she wished she was wearing them at that moment and her arousal deepened.
Danny held the pink panties briefly in his hand before dropping them into the appropriate pile.
Then a red pair, then pale blue silk and followed by black lace.
Sally watched as he handled her knickers one pair after another and she bit her lip, she had never been so turned on.
Her finger was still engaged between her juicy lips, she knew she should stop but she just couldn’t, she was just too hot.
As Danny was methodically sorting through the mountain of dirty washing he had no idea she was laying there in the gloom or what she was doing there beneath the duvet, she and Erin were supposed to be sleeping over at Karen’s house in Shallowfield, some 20 miles away.
Had he known she was there he would not have entered the room especially wearing nothing but a towel, he would have been too self-conscious.
(Part 03)
Danny had known Sally since she was an awkward clumsy eleven year old girl who seemed to spend her entire time either falling over or picking herself up and showing off her floral knickers in the process.
But she was a young woman now and Sally was a far cry from the klutzy eleven year old in the flowered briefs, she had grown up to become a swan.
He could never tell her that though, nor could he tell his sister Erin how he felt about her.
God how Sally wanted to finish herself off right there and then, but she couldn’t with him standing there.
But she didn’t want him to leave either, touching herself with him so close to her was so exciting, she had never felt as hot as she did at that moment.
Danny fished out the last item from the bottom of the bin, a pair of yellow knickers with white bows.
“They’re mine” she said in her head “Oh God”
Danny smiled and dropped them in the appropriate pile and turned to leave the room when Sally let out an involuntary moan and he turned around.
“Is that you Sal?” he asked
Sally bit hard on her lip after her exclamation but was still unable to halt her fingering
“Yes” she replied through clenched teeth
He walked to the window and opened one curtain, spilling gentle spring light into the room.
The sunlight fell across the rumpled screwed up duvet and a shapeless bulge beneath it.
“I thought you and Erin were staying over at Karen’s” Danny said
“Erin did” she gasped “but I didn’t fancy it”
Each word was spoken through gritted teeth and were slow and laboured and she was squirming beneath the duvet as her fingers still worked at her creamy wetness.
He took a hand full of duvet and threw it aside revealing Sally’s lustful pose.
Her nipples were standing proud through her pyjama top and her right hand was still inside her shorts.
Instead of feeling embarrassment, Sally’s exposure before the object of her lust merely turned her on even more and her fingers still lingering between her wet lips wouldn’t stop.
It was there that his eyes were drawn, that place were the fabric of her shorts moved to the rhythm of her busy fingers frigging herself before him.
As he stood there looking at the wonderful lustful sight he felt a passion welling up in him, a passion he had suppressed over the last two years which he dare not have hoped to have acted upon until that moment.
He watched her and she reached out her left hand and tugged at the towel wrapped around him until it fell away exposing his own arousal and she frigged her pussy with greater vigour.
Danny sat on the bed and reached up to her buttocks pulled her pyjama shorts off her buttocks and down her thighs and even as he pulled them off over her ankles and tossed them into the wash basket her busy finger never ceased their purposefulness and then he sat there stroking her thigh and watched her come.
Sally laughed a dirty lustful chuckle as Danny joined her in bed and the mutual want that had simmered for so long between them finally came to the boil in a hot passionate toe curling conclusion to their lust and a warm hearted beginning to their love.
It was a perfect early spring morning in the leafy village of Pangmere and the breeze stirred the tree tops and the birds sang to the sun.
And the birds weren’t the only early risers, Sally Carey was lying in bed, warm and cosy beneath the duvet, as the birds twittered in the trees and the early morning light tried to penetrate her bed room.
As she lay there half-awake, half-dreaming, Sally could hear him through the bedroom wall as he stood in the shower and as she listened to the splattering and splashing, she envied every droplet of water as it ran unchecked over his naked skin.
However the root of her envy was because she had been in love with him since she was eleven years old and now that she was almost twenty she wanted him with every fibre of her being.
The subject of her fervent want was Danny Netherton, the elder brother of Sally’s best friend Erin, who at the age of 18 had, to all intents and purposes, by necessity become the father of his 11 year old sister.
Their parents were killed in a tragic car crash on the Pepperstock Expressway during a snow storm and all his hopes and dreams for the future died in the snow along with them.
His plans to study engineering at University and what that might have led to had to be set aside in order for him to raise his little sister, so that she at least would be able to fulfil her potential.
The early years of his enforced parenthood he was almost consumed by his new responsibilities, running the home, nurturing Erin and holding down a job.
But the saving grace for all his sacrifice and being weighed down by responsibility’s at such a young age was that he was a stronger person for the experience and Erin was to become everything their parents would have wished her to be, and he was proud of that result.
Giving up his own academic ambitions had allowed Erin to follow her dreams and she was now at Cambridge University with Sally.
As she lay in the cosy warmth of her bed listening to the water washing over him, images of his wet naked body filled her head and she felt aroused.
Her flesh tingled and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and her nipples erected and she felt that tell-tale feeling as the warmth built deep within her.
The water stopped and the heavy foot fall told her he had stepped out of the shower and then she pictured his wet naked form as he did so, and just a thin stud wall separated her eager want from the object of her lust and desire.
She could see in her mind’s eye each droplet of water dripping from his torso or running freely down his skin and her hand travelled purposely across her belly as her arousal grew.
And as her breathing deepened and her pulse quickened her small delicate fingers slipped beneath the waistband and proceeded further until her whole hand was inside her shorts.
(Part 02)
Her whole hand was inside her shorts as Sally pictured him wet and naked just the other side of the stud wall, she could see the towel now, wrapped around him as she wanted to be wrapped around him and her fingers went quickly between her moist lips and she found she was almost as wet as he was.
Sally was lost in those dreamy creamy thoughts of lust when the door suddenly opened and she heard herself gasp as Danny walked into the room, but her fingers lingered between her juicy lips as she clenched her buttocks tightly and grasped her thighs firmly around her hand, but as she watched him across the room, wearing just a towel her slender digits moved involuntarily and she continued to stroke herself.
Sally knew with him in the room she should stop fingering herself but she couldn’t help herself, she couldn’t stop.
Sally was sleeping in the spare room which also housed the laundry basket and Danny began picking up the laundry that had been discarded in and around the wash bin.
There was always plenty of it when Erin was back from University and even more whenever Sally slept over.
Sally and Erin had been best friend since forever and over the years she had been a regular house guest.
They’d been back from University for a week and the washing had already built up and this was the first opportunity he’d had to get to grips with it.
So as it was Saturday and the girls had gone to a party the night before and had stayed over at another friend’s place he thought he should make a start on the washing.
As he went through the assorted jeans, T-shirts and lingerie, he began to think how quickly time passed by and how quickly his sister and her best friend had grown up.
He smiled to himself as he remembered Erin’s first bra, which was a purely cosmetic device of course when she was twelve.
Then as she grew she went through various stages of padded enhancements and eventually to the full cupped and underwired contraptions she wore today.
It was the same with her pants, in the early days they were childishly embellished with flowers or colourful characters, then they progressed through to practical pants and onto more sophisticated items before progressing on to the skimpy things of lace and bows because is little sister was a grown woman now.
Sally watched as he stood across the room in the half light, his upper body still damp, a towel wrapped around the lower.
He was standing sorting laundry into baskets of light and dark and as he held a pair of pink knickers she recognised them as her own and she wished she was wearing them at that moment and her arousal deepened.
Danny held the pink panties briefly in his hand before dropping them into the appropriate pile.
Then a red pair, then pale blue silk and followed by black lace.
Sally watched as he handled her knickers one pair after another and she bit her lip, she had never been so turned on.
Her finger was still engaged between her juicy lips, she knew she should stop but she just couldn’t, she was just too hot.
As Danny was methodically sorting through the mountain of dirty washing he had no idea she was laying there in the gloom or what she was doing there beneath the duvet, she and Erin were supposed to be sleeping over at Karen’s house in Shallowfield, some 20 miles away.
Had he known she was there he would not have entered the room especially wearing nothing but a towel, he would have been too self-conscious.
(Part 03)
Danny had known Sally since she was an awkward clumsy eleven year old girl who seemed to spend her entire time either falling over or picking herself up and showing off her floral knickers in the process.
But she was a young woman now and Sally was a far cry from the klutzy eleven year old in the flowered briefs, she had grown up to become a swan.
He could never tell her that though, nor could he tell his sister Erin how he felt about her.
God how Sally wanted to finish herself off right there and then, but she couldn’t with him standing there.
But she didn’t want him to leave either, touching herself with him so close to her was so exciting, she had never felt as hot as she did at that moment.
Danny fished out the last item from the bottom of the bin, a pair of yellow knickers with white bows.
“They’re mine” she said in her head “Oh God”
Danny smiled and dropped them in the appropriate pile and turned to leave the room when Sally let out an involuntary moan and he turned around.
“Is that you Sal?” he asked
Sally bit hard on her lip after her exclamation but was still unable to halt her fingering
“Yes” she replied through clenched teeth
He walked to the window and opened one curtain, spilling gentle spring light into the room.
The sunlight fell across the rumpled screwed up duvet and a shapeless bulge beneath it.
“I thought you and Erin were staying over at Karen’s” Danny said
“Erin did” she gasped “but I didn’t fancy it”
Each word was spoken through gritted teeth and were slow and laboured and she was squirming beneath the duvet as her fingers still worked at her creamy wetness.
He took a hand full of duvet and threw it aside revealing Sally’s lustful pose.
Her nipples were standing proud through her pyjama top and her right hand was still inside her shorts.
Instead of feeling embarrassment, Sally’s exposure before the object of her lust merely turned her on even more and her fingers still lingering between her wet lips wouldn’t stop.
It was there that his eyes were drawn, that place were the fabric of her shorts moved to the rhythm of her busy fingers frigging herself before him.
As he stood there looking at the wonderful lustful sight he felt a passion welling up in him, a passion he had suppressed over the last two years which he dare not have hoped to have acted upon until that moment.
He watched her and she reached out her left hand and tugged at the towel wrapped around him until it fell away exposing his own arousal and she frigged her pussy with greater vigour.
Danny sat on the bed and reached up to her buttocks pulled her pyjama shorts off her buttocks and down her thighs and even as he pulled them off over her ankles and tossed them into the wash basket her busy finger never ceased their purposefulness and then he sat there stroking her thigh and watched her come.
Sally laughed a dirty lustful chuckle as Danny joined her in bed and the mutual want that had simmered for so long between them finally came to the boil in a hot passionate toe curling conclusion to their lust and a warm hearted beginning to their love.
Sunday 19 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (005) The Birthday Treat
(Part 01)
I emerged from the bathroom just in time to see Marilyn, wearing a little black dress and walking sexily through a freshly atomized cloud of perfume.
And with the final touches applied to her makeup she sat on the bed and looked at me with complete and utter, and more to the point, shamelessly undisguised lust.
In fact I thought she looked so wanton that I wondered if we would make it to the restaurant at all.
As we walked through reception, I am not ashamed to admit I felt exceeding proud to have such a beautiful girl on my arm.
I counted my blessing every day and thanked God for placing her in my life.
So just before we entered the restaurant I turned to her and said
“I love you Miss Kane”
Marilyn smiled and kissed me.
“I love you too” she responded “old man”
“Old man?” I exclaimed as I watched her walk ahead of me.
“Come on, keep up granddad” she called.
She was referring to the fact that I had turned 30 that day, which was why we were staying in the bridal suite in a luxury hotel, and she was only 23.
We were seated in the conservatory section of the restaurant and it was a little cool so I asked the waiter to close the skylight as Marilyn had goose bumps on her arms and her temperature gauges had activated.
The waiter duly obliged with regard to the skylight and as he walked away Marilyn asked
“Are you staring at my nipples?”
“Of course” I replied
“Well that’s alright then” she said so I continued staring
“You didn’t bother with a bra then” I said stating the obvious, because her pert breasts were perfectly defined
“Are you complaining?” Marilyn asked
“Not at all, less for me to take off later” I replied
“Don’t assume you’re getting lucky just because it’s your birthday” she said aloofly
“So what was that lustful leer you were giving me earlier?” I asked
“Indigestion” she replied
“You’ll soon change your tune once I get my hand inside your knickers” I told her
“No chance of that” she said very definitely and blushed crimson red.
So I put my hand on her knee and moved my hand up under her skirt and beyond her stocking top to her knickerless nonny.
She was looking very pleased with herself so I pulled one of her pubes and made her yelp.
“The last time you went out without any knickers on you were in bed for three days” I reminded her
“That’s a result I would settle for this time,” she confessed
On the occasion that led to her being confined to bed was as a result of walking through the village wearing much the same as she was that night to wish me a happy New Year, the problem was that it was half past midnight and it was minus 5.
(Part 02)
Luckily at that moment the starters arrived and it was so delicious that my thoughts were completely distracted from Marilyn’s freshly laundered and unfettered fanny.
It was only when we were sipping our coffee that the lascivious leer returned to her innocent face and a trouser tickle to my pants.
This tickle grew as I remembered that the founder of the feast seated next to me was “sans pants”.
I put my hand back on her knee and gently pulled her legs apart.
Then my hand crept along her thigh, dwelling momentarily on the lacy fringe before proceeding along the soft silkiness of her inner thigh and ultimately the luscious moist jewel of her young pussy.
Her lips were already open and very accommodating to my approaching fingers, which slipped along her slippery crease and entered her easily which prompted her to instantly close her legs.
“Upstairs now” she ordered “sign the bill and get upstairs you dirty old man”
“Yes miss” I said feigning a tug of my forelock
My cock was ready to burst out of my trousers and I was going to leave the restaurant with a very awkward gait, which would give the appearance to the untrained eye of an old man walking.
The throbbing in my trousers was now accompanied by an ache dwelling deep in my balls.
We left the restaurant slightly less together than when we entered, I was still walking awkwardly and Marilyn was walking extremely quickly but only from the knees down.
Her thighs were together and her buttocks appeared clenched.
We said goodnight to the reception staff and once out of sight Georgie charged up the stairs taking them two steps at a time.
I went off after her in similar vein and caught up with her on the first floor landing.
I pushed her up against the wall and kissed her,
Then I hitched up her dress and my hand went straight to her fluffy brown bush.
“I like your new habit of not wearing any drawers,” I said
“It saves me having to yank them down around your ankles”
“I knew you’d like it you dirty old man” she said wickedly
I pushed two fingers into her tight wet cunny and rubbed her clitoris with my thumb and she let out a long breathy sigh.
She wrapped her arms tightly around my neck and raised one leg off the ground.
There was the sound of voices below and in an instant she had extricated herself and was away up the stairs.
“You’ll have to catch me if you want more” she called over her shoulder.
The swelling in my trousers was not making movement any easier and Marilyn had a head start on me.
But on the next flight of stairs she paused to remove her shoes and I managed to grab one of her stocking clad ankles.
(Part 03)
Marilyn was giggling as she tried to wriggle free but I wasn’t letting go and as she tried to scramble up the stairs on all fours I improved my hold on her by grabbing her about the waist with my left arm.
Meanwhile my right hand returned up her dress and fingered her pussy once more and she squealed with delight as I frigged her.
After a minute of this I yanked her dress up and exposed her round white buttocks, this gave me a great view of the object of my attentions and I felt the sudden need to drink of her hot juice.
But as soon as my lips touched hers and before my tongue could taste her hot cunny juice she managed to wriggle away and I could only watch on as she scampered up the stairs.
When she reached the top stair she sat there triumphantly with the dress still rucked up around her middle.
“Come on then, birthday boy” she said taunting me by opening and closing her legs and as Marilyn spread her legs wide I could see her juicy moist lips and then she slipped her finger down her crack.
Marilyn stood up holding her shoes in one hand and still fingering herself with the other, before she headed towards the bridal suite.
She was stood leaning against the door waiting for me and as I got close she took the room key card from her stocking top and opened the door.
Giggling and squealing as she did so, inside the room she dropped her shoes and jumped onto the four-poster bed.
I rushed into the room and closed the door behind me and found Marilyn was kneeling on the bed with her back to me.
I kicked off my shoes and undid my trousers and by the time I reached the end of the bed I was naked except for my socks, which under normal circumstances I would have removed as well but my balls were fit to bust.
Marilyn was kneeling at the end of the bed with her arse on full display as she gripped on to the bedpost with both hands.
She giggled as I unzipped her dress and slipped it off her shoulders so my hands could play with her beautiful pert breasts.
“Aren’t you going to make the old man some hot chocolate?” I asked as I stood there my legs trembling
“Just fuck me,” she ordered “this is your birthday treat”
“Happy birthday to me” I said as my cock slipped effortlessly into her tight cunny.
Marilyn exhaled a low animal grunt as I went into her up to my balls.
My hands abandoned her tits and grasped onto her hips while she held, white knuckled, onto the bed post as she pushed down onto me as she grunted ever louder with each successive penetration.
With the length of stroke shortening her moans became more urgent, more guttural, and more animal.
Until Marilyn’s whole body went into spasm as she came with a sensual scream and my cock pulsed and twitched inside her.
Then we collapsed onto the bed where we lay in a panting heap
Until Marilyn wriggled herself out of her dress and went down on me,
“And many happy returns” I said
I emerged from the bathroom just in time to see Marilyn, wearing a little black dress and walking sexily through a freshly atomized cloud of perfume.
And with the final touches applied to her makeup she sat on the bed and looked at me with complete and utter, and more to the point, shamelessly undisguised lust.
In fact I thought she looked so wanton that I wondered if we would make it to the restaurant at all.
As we walked through reception, I am not ashamed to admit I felt exceeding proud to have such a beautiful girl on my arm.
I counted my blessing every day and thanked God for placing her in my life.
So just before we entered the restaurant I turned to her and said
“I love you Miss Kane”
Marilyn smiled and kissed me.
“I love you too” she responded “old man”
“Old man?” I exclaimed as I watched her walk ahead of me.
“Come on, keep up granddad” she called.
She was referring to the fact that I had turned 30 that day, which was why we were staying in the bridal suite in a luxury hotel, and she was only 23.
We were seated in the conservatory section of the restaurant and it was a little cool so I asked the waiter to close the skylight as Marilyn had goose bumps on her arms and her temperature gauges had activated.
The waiter duly obliged with regard to the skylight and as he walked away Marilyn asked
“Are you staring at my nipples?”
“Of course” I replied
“Well that’s alright then” she said so I continued staring
“You didn’t bother with a bra then” I said stating the obvious, because her pert breasts were perfectly defined
“Are you complaining?” Marilyn asked
“Not at all, less for me to take off later” I replied
“Don’t assume you’re getting lucky just because it’s your birthday” she said aloofly
“So what was that lustful leer you were giving me earlier?” I asked
“Indigestion” she replied
“You’ll soon change your tune once I get my hand inside your knickers” I told her
“No chance of that” she said very definitely and blushed crimson red.
So I put my hand on her knee and moved my hand up under her skirt and beyond her stocking top to her knickerless nonny.
She was looking very pleased with herself so I pulled one of her pubes and made her yelp.
“The last time you went out without any knickers on you were in bed for three days” I reminded her
“That’s a result I would settle for this time,” she confessed
On the occasion that led to her being confined to bed was as a result of walking through the village wearing much the same as she was that night to wish me a happy New Year, the problem was that it was half past midnight and it was minus 5.
(Part 02)
Luckily at that moment the starters arrived and it was so delicious that my thoughts were completely distracted from Marilyn’s freshly laundered and unfettered fanny.
It was only when we were sipping our coffee that the lascivious leer returned to her innocent face and a trouser tickle to my pants.
This tickle grew as I remembered that the founder of the feast seated next to me was “sans pants”.
I put my hand back on her knee and gently pulled her legs apart.
Then my hand crept along her thigh, dwelling momentarily on the lacy fringe before proceeding along the soft silkiness of her inner thigh and ultimately the luscious moist jewel of her young pussy.
Her lips were already open and very accommodating to my approaching fingers, which slipped along her slippery crease and entered her easily which prompted her to instantly close her legs.
“Upstairs now” she ordered “sign the bill and get upstairs you dirty old man”
“Yes miss” I said feigning a tug of my forelock
My cock was ready to burst out of my trousers and I was going to leave the restaurant with a very awkward gait, which would give the appearance to the untrained eye of an old man walking.
The throbbing in my trousers was now accompanied by an ache dwelling deep in my balls.
We left the restaurant slightly less together than when we entered, I was still walking awkwardly and Marilyn was walking extremely quickly but only from the knees down.
Her thighs were together and her buttocks appeared clenched.
We said goodnight to the reception staff and once out of sight Georgie charged up the stairs taking them two steps at a time.
I went off after her in similar vein and caught up with her on the first floor landing.
I pushed her up against the wall and kissed her,
Then I hitched up her dress and my hand went straight to her fluffy brown bush.
“I like your new habit of not wearing any drawers,” I said
“It saves me having to yank them down around your ankles”
“I knew you’d like it you dirty old man” she said wickedly
I pushed two fingers into her tight wet cunny and rubbed her clitoris with my thumb and she let out a long breathy sigh.
She wrapped her arms tightly around my neck and raised one leg off the ground.
There was the sound of voices below and in an instant she had extricated herself and was away up the stairs.
“You’ll have to catch me if you want more” she called over her shoulder.
The swelling in my trousers was not making movement any easier and Marilyn had a head start on me.
But on the next flight of stairs she paused to remove her shoes and I managed to grab one of her stocking clad ankles.
(Part 03)
Marilyn was giggling as she tried to wriggle free but I wasn’t letting go and as she tried to scramble up the stairs on all fours I improved my hold on her by grabbing her about the waist with my left arm.
Meanwhile my right hand returned up her dress and fingered her pussy once more and she squealed with delight as I frigged her.
After a minute of this I yanked her dress up and exposed her round white buttocks, this gave me a great view of the object of my attentions and I felt the sudden need to drink of her hot juice.
But as soon as my lips touched hers and before my tongue could taste her hot cunny juice she managed to wriggle away and I could only watch on as she scampered up the stairs.
When she reached the top stair she sat there triumphantly with the dress still rucked up around her middle.
“Come on then, birthday boy” she said taunting me by opening and closing her legs and as Marilyn spread her legs wide I could see her juicy moist lips and then she slipped her finger down her crack.
Marilyn stood up holding her shoes in one hand and still fingering herself with the other, before she headed towards the bridal suite.
She was stood leaning against the door waiting for me and as I got close she took the room key card from her stocking top and opened the door.
Giggling and squealing as she did so, inside the room she dropped her shoes and jumped onto the four-poster bed.
I rushed into the room and closed the door behind me and found Marilyn was kneeling on the bed with her back to me.
I kicked off my shoes and undid my trousers and by the time I reached the end of the bed I was naked except for my socks, which under normal circumstances I would have removed as well but my balls were fit to bust.
Marilyn was kneeling at the end of the bed with her arse on full display as she gripped on to the bedpost with both hands.
She giggled as I unzipped her dress and slipped it off her shoulders so my hands could play with her beautiful pert breasts.
“Aren’t you going to make the old man some hot chocolate?” I asked as I stood there my legs trembling
“Just fuck me,” she ordered “this is your birthday treat”
“Happy birthday to me” I said as my cock slipped effortlessly into her tight cunny.
Marilyn exhaled a low animal grunt as I went into her up to my balls.
My hands abandoned her tits and grasped onto her hips while she held, white knuckled, onto the bed post as she pushed down onto me as she grunted ever louder with each successive penetration.
With the length of stroke shortening her moans became more urgent, more guttural, and more animal.
Until Marilyn’s whole body went into spasm as she came with a sensual scream and my cock pulsed and twitched inside her.
Then we collapsed onto the bed where we lay in a panting heap
Until Marilyn wriggled herself out of her dress and went down on me,
“And many happy returns” I said
Saturday 18 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (004) The Girl in the Red Stockings
(Part 01)
We were just a group of mates staying at Sharpinghead for the Spring Bank Holiday Weekend.
Well when I say it was just a group of mates, we were more than that and I should also clarify that by saying it was a group of mates and Waldo.
We were staying at the Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park close to Sharpington.
There were 8 of us altogether in three caravans, my sister Lorraine shared with Louise and Charlotte, I shared with Dave and Andy while Samantha shared the third caravan with her boyfriend Waldo Pienaar.
We were all in our early 20s apart from Waldo who was pushing 30 and again with the exception of Waldo we had been friends forever.
Caravan holidays weren’t really my cup of tea at all, as I don’t like caravans or tents for that matter but that’s probably because I’m 6ft 4, so of course caravans don’t really cater for people of my height.
The only reason I went at all was because Samantha Perry was going to be there, and the fact she was going was very important to me because I loved her, I always had, and I always would, which was sad really because she didn’t love me, because if she did she wouldn’t have kept going out with a succession of complete pillock’s like Waldo.
But I figured if I couldn’t have her to myself I could at least be around her and enjoy her company and it wasn’t the first time I’d tagged along on such outings, so I wouldn’t want to give the impression that I was miserable on such occasions, I still had fun I just didn’t have Sam to myself.
We arrived at the caravan park late on Friday night in the pouring rain and we were all exhausted, we only had the energy for a quick drink and turned in early.
Saturday started grey and damp and the evidence of the previous days deluge was everywhere to be seen, but the sun burst through mid-morning and we got to spend the rest of the day on the beach.
Which was where I got to see the sight that drew me to the beaches of Sharpington in the first place, the most beautiful girl I have ever known wearing her yellow bikini.
It was a lovely afternoon and we had great fun playing volleyball on the sand, only my sister Lorraine noticed that I spent more time watching Sam than I did the ball.
The evening though was a massive let down for me as Samantha and Waldo didn’t join the group, Waldo wanted them to go out on their own.
The rest of us went to the pub and the evening really dragged.
I was up early on Sunday Morning of the Whitsun Bank Holiday weekend, although no one seems to call it Whitsun anymore, the fad seems to be to call it the Spring Bank Holiday instead, I don’t know why.
The rain had returned in earnest during the night and the park was very quiet, I walked around for a while squelching between the puddles and then approached caravan 17a.
The pretext was to speak with Waldo but in truth I wasn’t looking for him at all the only reason I was going over there was to see Sam.
I knew she was an early riser so I was sure she would be up and the kettle would be hot.
(Part 02)
I knocked on the door and got no answer which was strange, so I knocked once more and still there was no answer.
I looked around and noticed Waldo’s car was gone, I knocked again and I was beginning to think there was no one in and then I heard the faintest response of
“Come in”
I opened the door and stepped in to caravan 17a and found Samantha propped up in the corner on the bench seat, there was an empty glass on the table and two empty wine bottles on the floor.
“Good morning sunshine” I said
“Is it?” she replied without opening her eyes.
She was sitting with both feet on the seat with her knees drawn up in front of her and she leant forward and rested her elbows on her knees while her hands pushed her beautiful thick chestnut brown hair off her forehead away from her bleary eyes.
I sat down on the opposite end of the bench so I was looking straight at her and I was very grateful.
The reason for that was that Samantha was naked apart from a pair of red lace topped stockings, matching suspender belt and a wry smile on her lovely face.
Her lightly tanned skin was sufficiently darkened, due to the previous day’s beach activities, to highlight in stark contrast the distinct out line of her bikini top and the pallid white flesh of her pert breasts surmounted by perfect deep pink nipples arousing nicely in the cool morning air.
But my eyes were soon drawn to the glorious thicket that was the coarse triangle of brunette hair that extended to their fullest extent either side of her lips.
“Where’s Waldo?” I asked
“He’s gone” she said sadly
“What this early?” I asked
“No, last night” she replied coldly “he dumped me”
“What? He shagged you and then dumped you?”
“No, he dumped me and didn’t shag me” she said in disbelief “I got all kitted out for him as well”
“I can see that babe” I said
“What?” she asked and screwed up her face in a puzzled expression as she tried to decipher my words.
Samantha then opened her eyes to their fullest extent and looked at me for clarification and I nodded in her direction in answer to her enquiry and her state of undress suddenly dawned on her
“Oh God” she exclaimed and shut her thighs like a bear trap and scrambled for her blanket
“You pig” she shouted “Why didn’t you tell me I was naked”
“Are you kidding me?” I said “and pass up the chance to see a gorgeous girls treasures”
I realized the moments the words left my lips I had shown my hand,
“Perhaps she’s too hung over to have noticed” I said to myself
Her treasures were now well and truly buried beneath the hastily positioned blanket and the only visible parts of her were her bright red face above, and her red stocking covered toes, peeping out from below.
“Since when did you think I was gorgeous anyway?” she asked from the safety of her hiding place.
“What do you mean?” I said cursing myself for letting my guard down, apparently she wasn’t as hung over as she appeared
“You said you wouldn’t pass up the chance to see a gorgeous girls treasures” she said “so when did you start thinking I was gorgeous?”
And that was a question I was never in my wildest dreams expected to be asked.
(Part 03)
Faced with a direct question I couldn’t back track, so I took a deep breath.
“Well let me see that would be since about the time you were seven” he replied
“Since I was 7?” she exclaimed in disbelief
“What did I do when I was seven that had such a profound effect on you?”
“You showed me your knickers in Belldon Wood”
“I did not” she protested
“Yes you did” I said adamantly, “they were white with little blue periwinkle flowers on them”
Samantha gasped and said
“I remember those knickers”
“So do I, vividly”
“Oh God I did show you my knickers didn’t I?” she said, she would have gone red at the remembrance had she not still been crimson from showing me everything else.
“Yes” I confirmed
“So it was actually my knickers you thought were gorgeous” she said
I hesitated before answering, I could have agreed with her and simply laughed the whole thing off, because if I told the truth then the genie would be out of the bottle and I wouldn’t be able to unsay it.
“That’s not true” I replied deciding to bite the bullet
“I think you’re gorgeous now and you’re not wearing any”
“Don’t remind me” She said blushing crimson again and hiding her face behind her blanket.
“So you’ve fancied me ever since I was seven?”
“Pretty much” I confessed
“You really fancied me all that time?”
“It’s worse than that I’m afraid!” I admitted
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked emerging from cover.
“I never knew how” I replied
“I was just a passing fancy then” she said dismissively
“Not at all” I corrected her “I’ve always wanted you, but because you’re so special to me, and you’re such a good mate I didn’t want to risk losing that if you didn’t feel the same about me”
“So did you ever get close?” she asked softly
“Once or twice”
“And?” she queried
“You were in between completely unsuitable boyfriends who didn’t deserve you at the time” I said
“But I dithered around for too long so I wasn’t even able to catch you on the rebound”
Once the cat was out of the bag I thought I might at least get closure, for good or bad, but as it turned out I didn’t get to hear her response.
Samantha’s mouth opened but before she could speak there was a loud bang on the door.
“Who is it?” Sam yelled crossly
“It’s Loz you grumpy bint”
How ironic that my sister of all people would turn out to be the killjoy, she had been encouraging me for years to tell Sam how I felt.
“The door is open” Sam said
Lorraine opened the door and walked in and I was the first one she saw.
“Hey Mark, I’ve been looking for you” she said and then her eyes fell on Samantha
“Oh dear me, you look really rough” Lorraine said and laughed
“Shut up and have some respect for the dead” Samantha responded
“Well I suggest the corpse gets its zombie arse into the shower and then get your glad rags on” Loz instructed
“Why what’s going on?” Sam asked
“We’re all going into Sharpington for lunch” Lorraine replied and then turned to me
“And you, we leave in an hour, come on”
She started out the door and was expecting me to follow.
But I stood in the doorway and turned to look at Sam
“I liked it when you called them my treasures” she said
“You’re the real treasure” I responded and she smiled and just before I closed the door I said
“Wear your lemon dress, you always look stunning in that dress”
(Part 04)
When I had closed the door and walked down the steps I found Lorraine was waiting for me around the corner.
“Did you know Waldo did a runner last night?” she asked
“Yes” I replied
“So?”
“So what?” I asked
“So now’s the time to get to her before she gets tangled up with some other loser”
“What do you think I was doing when we were interrupted?”
Lorraine stopped and grabbed my arm
“You told her?”
“Yes” I replied and started walking again
“So how did it go?” she shouted
“How do you think it went” I snapped “I’m out here with you”
Sam and I travelled to Sharpington in separate cars and as I was in the car Andy was driving we arrived in town ten minutes behind Louise and the girls despite the fact we were right on their bumper when we left Whitecliff Hill Park and the reason for that was because he drives like an 80 year old woman.
We were further delayed due to the fact that he is totally incapable of parallel parking, so by the time we reached the restaurant the girls were already seated at the table and I ended up with Lou and Lottie between me and Sam.
It was a long and frustrating lunch, finding myself so far from the woman I loved, and the service was diabolical.
On that particular day of all days it didn’t help and although I was delighted to see that she was wearing the lemon dress as I suggested, every time I caught her eye she looked away immediately.
After lunch the weather brightened so we all walked down to the seafront, I walked slowly behind the pack with my hands stuffed in my pockets and cursed my stupidity for making my declaration to her.
My worst fears had been realized, I had shared the secret I had kept to myself for 17 years and as I always knew would be the case if I spoke up, instead of winning her love I had now lost her friendship.
“Why did I do it?” I said to myself and then I felt an arm slip through mine, when I glanced sideways to see who the arm belonged I fully expected it to be Lorraine but I was amazed to see it was Sam.
“I have a confession to make” she said
“Oh yes” I replied
“I think I chose totally unsuitable boyfriends who didn’t deserve me because I couldn’t have you” she said and we came to a stop
“And now?” I asked with bated breath
Samantha had turned to face and said
“I choose you”
And then she kissed me.
We walked the length of Sharpington seafront in the warm May sunshine and talked like we had never talked before.
And by the time we returned to the others it was almost evening.
“Come on you two” Lorraine called “We’re going to the pub as soon as we get back, you in?”
“Count us out we’ve got plans” Sam said
“Oh where are you two going then?” Lottie asked and I turned to look at Sam because I didn’t know what plans we had either and Samantha squeezed my hand and smiled at me.
“A treasure hunt” she replied and we both giggled
Everyone looked completely bemused by her answer and my response to it but suffice is to say we were in Samantha’s caravan until midafternoon on Bank Holiday Monday treasure hunting.
We were just a group of mates staying at Sharpinghead for the Spring Bank Holiday Weekend.
Well when I say it was just a group of mates, we were more than that and I should also clarify that by saying it was a group of mates and Waldo.
We were staying at the Whitecliff Hill Caravan Park close to Sharpington.
There were 8 of us altogether in three caravans, my sister Lorraine shared with Louise and Charlotte, I shared with Dave and Andy while Samantha shared the third caravan with her boyfriend Waldo Pienaar.
We were all in our early 20s apart from Waldo who was pushing 30 and again with the exception of Waldo we had been friends forever.
Caravan holidays weren’t really my cup of tea at all, as I don’t like caravans or tents for that matter but that’s probably because I’m 6ft 4, so of course caravans don’t really cater for people of my height.
The only reason I went at all was because Samantha Perry was going to be there, and the fact she was going was very important to me because I loved her, I always had, and I always would, which was sad really because she didn’t love me, because if she did she wouldn’t have kept going out with a succession of complete pillock’s like Waldo.
But I figured if I couldn’t have her to myself I could at least be around her and enjoy her company and it wasn’t the first time I’d tagged along on such outings, so I wouldn’t want to give the impression that I was miserable on such occasions, I still had fun I just didn’t have Sam to myself.
We arrived at the caravan park late on Friday night in the pouring rain and we were all exhausted, we only had the energy for a quick drink and turned in early.
Saturday started grey and damp and the evidence of the previous days deluge was everywhere to be seen, but the sun burst through mid-morning and we got to spend the rest of the day on the beach.
Which was where I got to see the sight that drew me to the beaches of Sharpington in the first place, the most beautiful girl I have ever known wearing her yellow bikini.
It was a lovely afternoon and we had great fun playing volleyball on the sand, only my sister Lorraine noticed that I spent more time watching Sam than I did the ball.
The evening though was a massive let down for me as Samantha and Waldo didn’t join the group, Waldo wanted them to go out on their own.
The rest of us went to the pub and the evening really dragged.
I was up early on Sunday Morning of the Whitsun Bank Holiday weekend, although no one seems to call it Whitsun anymore, the fad seems to be to call it the Spring Bank Holiday instead, I don’t know why.
The rain had returned in earnest during the night and the park was very quiet, I walked around for a while squelching between the puddles and then approached caravan 17a.
The pretext was to speak with Waldo but in truth I wasn’t looking for him at all the only reason I was going over there was to see Sam.
I knew she was an early riser so I was sure she would be up and the kettle would be hot.
(Part 02)
I knocked on the door and got no answer which was strange, so I knocked once more and still there was no answer.
I looked around and noticed Waldo’s car was gone, I knocked again and I was beginning to think there was no one in and then I heard the faintest response of
“Come in”
I opened the door and stepped in to caravan 17a and found Samantha propped up in the corner on the bench seat, there was an empty glass on the table and two empty wine bottles on the floor.
“Good morning sunshine” I said
“Is it?” she replied without opening her eyes.
She was sitting with both feet on the seat with her knees drawn up in front of her and she leant forward and rested her elbows on her knees while her hands pushed her beautiful thick chestnut brown hair off her forehead away from her bleary eyes.
I sat down on the opposite end of the bench so I was looking straight at her and I was very grateful.
The reason for that was that Samantha was naked apart from a pair of red lace topped stockings, matching suspender belt and a wry smile on her lovely face.
Her lightly tanned skin was sufficiently darkened, due to the previous day’s beach activities, to highlight in stark contrast the distinct out line of her bikini top and the pallid white flesh of her pert breasts surmounted by perfect deep pink nipples arousing nicely in the cool morning air.
But my eyes were soon drawn to the glorious thicket that was the coarse triangle of brunette hair that extended to their fullest extent either side of her lips.
“Where’s Waldo?” I asked
“He’s gone” she said sadly
“What this early?” I asked
“No, last night” she replied coldly “he dumped me”
“What? He shagged you and then dumped you?”
“No, he dumped me and didn’t shag me” she said in disbelief “I got all kitted out for him as well”
“I can see that babe” I said
“What?” she asked and screwed up her face in a puzzled expression as she tried to decipher my words.
Samantha then opened her eyes to their fullest extent and looked at me for clarification and I nodded in her direction in answer to her enquiry and her state of undress suddenly dawned on her
“Oh God” she exclaimed and shut her thighs like a bear trap and scrambled for her blanket
“You pig” she shouted “Why didn’t you tell me I was naked”
“Are you kidding me?” I said “and pass up the chance to see a gorgeous girls treasures”
I realized the moments the words left my lips I had shown my hand,
“Perhaps she’s too hung over to have noticed” I said to myself
Her treasures were now well and truly buried beneath the hastily positioned blanket and the only visible parts of her were her bright red face above, and her red stocking covered toes, peeping out from below.
“Since when did you think I was gorgeous anyway?” she asked from the safety of her hiding place.
“What do you mean?” I said cursing myself for letting my guard down, apparently she wasn’t as hung over as she appeared
“You said you wouldn’t pass up the chance to see a gorgeous girls treasures” she said “so when did you start thinking I was gorgeous?”
And that was a question I was never in my wildest dreams expected to be asked.
(Part 03)
Faced with a direct question I couldn’t back track, so I took a deep breath.
“Well let me see that would be since about the time you were seven” he replied
“Since I was 7?” she exclaimed in disbelief
“What did I do when I was seven that had such a profound effect on you?”
“You showed me your knickers in Belldon Wood”
“I did not” she protested
“Yes you did” I said adamantly, “they were white with little blue periwinkle flowers on them”
Samantha gasped and said
“I remember those knickers”
“So do I, vividly”
“Oh God I did show you my knickers didn’t I?” she said, she would have gone red at the remembrance had she not still been crimson from showing me everything else.
“Yes” I confirmed
“So it was actually my knickers you thought were gorgeous” she said
I hesitated before answering, I could have agreed with her and simply laughed the whole thing off, because if I told the truth then the genie would be out of the bottle and I wouldn’t be able to unsay it.
“That’s not true” I replied deciding to bite the bullet
“I think you’re gorgeous now and you’re not wearing any”
“Don’t remind me” She said blushing crimson again and hiding her face behind her blanket.
“So you’ve fancied me ever since I was seven?”
“Pretty much” I confessed
“You really fancied me all that time?”
“It’s worse than that I’m afraid!” I admitted
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked emerging from cover.
“I never knew how” I replied
“I was just a passing fancy then” she said dismissively
“Not at all” I corrected her “I’ve always wanted you, but because you’re so special to me, and you’re such a good mate I didn’t want to risk losing that if you didn’t feel the same about me”
“So did you ever get close?” she asked softly
“Once or twice”
“And?” she queried
“You were in between completely unsuitable boyfriends who didn’t deserve you at the time” I said
“But I dithered around for too long so I wasn’t even able to catch you on the rebound”
Once the cat was out of the bag I thought I might at least get closure, for good or bad, but as it turned out I didn’t get to hear her response.
Samantha’s mouth opened but before she could speak there was a loud bang on the door.
“Who is it?” Sam yelled crossly
“It’s Loz you grumpy bint”
How ironic that my sister of all people would turn out to be the killjoy, she had been encouraging me for years to tell Sam how I felt.
“The door is open” Sam said
Lorraine opened the door and walked in and I was the first one she saw.
“Hey Mark, I’ve been looking for you” she said and then her eyes fell on Samantha
“Oh dear me, you look really rough” Lorraine said and laughed
“Shut up and have some respect for the dead” Samantha responded
“Well I suggest the corpse gets its zombie arse into the shower and then get your glad rags on” Loz instructed
“Why what’s going on?” Sam asked
“We’re all going into Sharpington for lunch” Lorraine replied and then turned to me
“And you, we leave in an hour, come on”
She started out the door and was expecting me to follow.
But I stood in the doorway and turned to look at Sam
“I liked it when you called them my treasures” she said
“You’re the real treasure” I responded and she smiled and just before I closed the door I said
“Wear your lemon dress, you always look stunning in that dress”
(Part 04)
When I had closed the door and walked down the steps I found Lorraine was waiting for me around the corner.
“Did you know Waldo did a runner last night?” she asked
“Yes” I replied
“So?”
“So what?” I asked
“So now’s the time to get to her before she gets tangled up with some other loser”
“What do you think I was doing when we were interrupted?”
Lorraine stopped and grabbed my arm
“You told her?”
“Yes” I replied and started walking again
“So how did it go?” she shouted
“How do you think it went” I snapped “I’m out here with you”
Sam and I travelled to Sharpington in separate cars and as I was in the car Andy was driving we arrived in town ten minutes behind Louise and the girls despite the fact we were right on their bumper when we left Whitecliff Hill Park and the reason for that was because he drives like an 80 year old woman.
We were further delayed due to the fact that he is totally incapable of parallel parking, so by the time we reached the restaurant the girls were already seated at the table and I ended up with Lou and Lottie between me and Sam.
It was a long and frustrating lunch, finding myself so far from the woman I loved, and the service was diabolical.
On that particular day of all days it didn’t help and although I was delighted to see that she was wearing the lemon dress as I suggested, every time I caught her eye she looked away immediately.
After lunch the weather brightened so we all walked down to the seafront, I walked slowly behind the pack with my hands stuffed in my pockets and cursed my stupidity for making my declaration to her.
My worst fears had been realized, I had shared the secret I had kept to myself for 17 years and as I always knew would be the case if I spoke up, instead of winning her love I had now lost her friendship.
“Why did I do it?” I said to myself and then I felt an arm slip through mine, when I glanced sideways to see who the arm belonged I fully expected it to be Lorraine but I was amazed to see it was Sam.
“I have a confession to make” she said
“Oh yes” I replied
“I think I chose totally unsuitable boyfriends who didn’t deserve me because I couldn’t have you” she said and we came to a stop
“And now?” I asked with bated breath
Samantha had turned to face and said
“I choose you”
And then she kissed me.
We walked the length of Sharpington seafront in the warm May sunshine and talked like we had never talked before.
And by the time we returned to the others it was almost evening.
“Come on you two” Lorraine called “We’re going to the pub as soon as we get back, you in?”
“Count us out we’ve got plans” Sam said
“Oh where are you two going then?” Lottie asked and I turned to look at Sam because I didn’t know what plans we had either and Samantha squeezed my hand and smiled at me.
“A treasure hunt” she replied and we both giggled
Everyone looked completely bemused by her answer and my response to it but suffice is to say we were in Samantha’s caravan until midafternoon on Bank Holiday Monday treasure hunting.
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