(Part 01)
Clayton is a small village in the North East corner of the Finchbottom Vale, with a large nucleus of substantial dwellings and a greater number of more humble homes and of the those inhabitants who need to work for a living the largest employer in the area was the Clayton Manor Hotel.
In the early summer a new manager was appointed, Gary Playford, and he was an instant hit with the locals because Gary was young, tall, dark and handsome, physically fit, well-toned and had a reputation as a lothario, which had very much preceded him.
He was 28 years old and his father owned the Playford Palace chain of hotels and he was grooming him to one day take over the reins of his worldwide hotel empire, the problem was that Gary had no head for business and he primarily thought with his dick.
Which could possibly have been ignored but for the fact that he and his dick ended up sleeping with the granddaughter of his father’s oldest friend.
So it was decided to send Gary to the Clayton Manor Hotel where he could do no serious harm even if he shagged everything in sight, and he very nearly did.
When he first found out he was being sent to Clayton Gary was very unhappy, he was a city boy, born and bred, and he viewed being sent to the country as purgatory, but no one was more surprised than he was when he found that actually loved it, it was a beautiful place, it was quiet and the air was clean and the women were as attractive, friendly and willing as any city girl, if not more so.
There is a very apt saying which goes “don’t shit on your own doorstep” which Gary had clearly never heard.
Because on his first day shagged the head of housekeeping in an upstairs closet.
Although in truth he was rather ambushed.
But it wasn’t just the female members of staff or hotel guests that he considered fair game.
There were also the local villagers and although he was normally the predator, within the village he had become the prey.
Because for the lonely widows, desperate singles, even more desperate divorcees and the bored house frau’s he was manna from heaven.
In the quiet of his office he sat and thought, as he nursed a large brandy, of the tortuous events of the day, in particular an inebriated lady Bishop from Nance and her form of sexual offertory which he had to decline.
That was followed by the appearance of two very mature schoolgirls, Lisa and Honey, in full uniform to report a problem with their room, he couldn’t remember the nature of the problem as he was picturing them cavorting naked around his office save for sundry items of lace and silk.
After the horny schoolgirls had left he took a walk across to the Gate Lodge to visit Blaire who was on her day off and was one of his frequent flyers, but alas she wasn’t in and was probable off wetting someone else’s balls.
(Part 02)
As he walked back across the car park he was rerunning some of the sexual encounters they had shared and it was only the sound of a car horn that ended the Technicolor orgy in his head.
When he looked round he saw it was Dr Owens, another regular recipient of his attention, driving away, she gave him a wave as she drove past, but that was enough and there were images of her in his head, her beautiful naked body beneath him, on top of him, on all fours, in the shower, and against a wall.
The afternoon and evening were annoyingly taken up with work which required him to burn the midnight oil somewhat but by the end of the day he got himself a brandy and called it a night.
He drained his glass and decided he would visit the lounge on one final prowl for a likely candidate for his lust and there she was sitting alone in an easy chair reading a book.
When she looked she smiled at him and said
“Hello Gary”
And his mind went blank clearly some woman he’d slept with at some time or other and the encounter was so unmemorable he had obviously forgotten her instantly.
He tried to picture her dressed in a different outfit, casual wear, uniform, bondage gear or work clothes and then it registered.
“Lindsay Baker” he replied, not a woman he had slept with after all and then instantly forgotten she was a solicitor from Purplemere who he tried to sleep with.
“Do you mind if I join you?” he asked.
“Not at all” she said “please do” and gestured to the neighboring chair.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asked
“Thank you, yes,” she said and he signaled to the barman.
After he ordered the drinks she said
“I heard on the grapevine you had been banished to the country, isn’t it a bit slow for a man of your propensities?”
“You would be surprised” he remarked
“Really?” she said “tell me more”
“A gentleman never kisses and tells” Gary pointed out
“Well you’re no gentleman so spill the beans”
So over the next fifteen minutes he related to her some of his more interesting encounters.
“My word you have been a busy boy” she said and squirmed a little in her seat.
“And what about you?” he probed, and hoped he might probe further
“What do you mean?” she said innocently
“You are not after all without a reputation” he said ungallantly
“Well that’s true enough, though compared to you I’m an amateur” she said
“Come on out with it” he insisted and she regaled him with the lurid tale of one of her clients who attended meetings in her office after hours and was shagging her senseless.
“Excellent” he said sporting a boner as he watched Lindsay fidgeting.
“Another drink?” he offered
“In my room perhaps” she replied
“A Nightcap?” he asked
“Something like that” Lindsay said “Providing that “Nightcap” is Hotel code for Horny Hotelier fucks Slutty Solicitor”
“We at the Clayton Manor Hotel are here to please” he said
“Yes that’s definitely what I want” she said and stood up and as she walked ahead of him he could see a damp patch on the back of her skirt.
“We’ve done the foreplay then” he said to himself
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