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.
But it wasn’t just the female members of staff or hotel guests, all came
with a bed, 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, and even more
desperate divorcees as well as the bored house frau’s he was manna from heaven.
One such example was Caroline Darville, she was a School Teacher in
Finchbottom, and was recently divorced.
She was, like Gary, in her late twenties, beautiful, brunette, and
curvy.
Caroline was also helping to arrange her sister’s wedding and was
interested in booking the Clayton Manor.
One example of a lusty villager was Caroline Darville, she was a
School Teacher in Finchbottom, and was recently divorced.
She was, like Gary, in her late twenties, beautiful, brunette, and
curvy.
Caroline was also helping to arrange her sister’s wedding and was
interested in booking the Clayton Manor.
She had been to the hotel and met with Gary and Blaire but she said her
sister had to cancel at the last minute, so she was given the tour anyway.
“We can do you a detailed breakdown of all the various options and send
it out to you” Blaire said with super efficiency
“Oh lovely” she responded and then addressing Gary directly she added
“perhaps you could pop it round one evening when my sister is there and we can
discuss it”
“Well…” he began
“I can offer wine and nibbles” she said sweetly
So the meeting was arranged and they said goodbye and Blaire said
“Her sisters not going to be there is she?”
“I doubt it very much” he said
Gary arrived at Caroline Darville’s cottage
at just after 8 o’clock and he could only see one car outside.
He smiled to himself and knocked on the
door, when it opened Caroline was standing there with a broad smile on her
face.
“Hello Gary” she said “do come in”
She was wearing a summer dress with a blue
and white chef’s apron over the top, and he thought there might be some nibbles
after all.
“Go and sit in the lounge and I’ll get the
drinks” she said affably “is Red ok?”
“Yes lovely” he replied
Gary sat on the sofa at the end of the room
and admired her big arse as walked back to the kitchen.
It was about ten minutes before she
reappeared carrying a glass of red wine in each hand and she was completely
naked, the only thing she was wearing a smug smile.
Her figure certainly didn’t disappoint and
her breasts bounced sympathetically with each step as she got closer and her
brunette pubic triangle was a delight.
She handed him one glass and put the other
on a side table
“Thank you” he said “can I assume that as
you invited me for wine and nibbles, that you are the nibbles”
“Oh no darling” she replied “you are”
And Caroline knelt on the floor in front of
him and began undoing his trousers and all the while the smug smile never left
her lips.
Once Caroline had successfully extricated
his swollen member from his pants her smile changed to a filthy leer and then
to his delight her wet mouth
enveloped his cock.
“God, I love this village” he said
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