Choice Tales from the Vale – (325) Bank Holiday Monday

 

The Pepperstock Hills National Park stretches from the bare, and often barren crags of Oxley Ridge in the North to the dense wooded southern slopes on the fringe of the Finchbottom Vale and from Quarry Hill, and the Pits in the West to Pepperstock Bay in the East.

It is an area of stark contrasts and attracts a variety of visitors.

The Quarry Hill side of the park to the west, as the name suggests, was heavily Quarried over several hundred years, though more extensively during the industrial revolution, the Quarries have been un-worked for over fifty years and nature had reclaimed them and former pits had become lakes and were very popular with anglers and the sparse shrubbery and woodland made it popular spot with courting couples, whereas the northern crags and fells were popular with climbers and more hardy folk, it was also where the village of Springwater was to be found, which was where 30 year old Greg Monroe owned and ran the Black Swan Hotel, although he was not a native of Springwater.

Greg was 6ft tall, wiry build with short brown hair and he was born and raised in the large sprawling village of Dulcet-on-Willow, beside the gentle shallow River Willow, which ran unhurriedly from the Pepperstock Hills to the more vibrant River Brooke.

His parents had retired to a Villa in the Greek Islands and the six bedroom detached house was left jointly to him and his brothers, Colin, four years younger, who lived and worked in Australia, and Alex, two years younger, who had the house to himself the vast majority of the time.

Greg himself only got back to the Village of Willow a handful of times each year.

He loved Willow and the village was very close to his heart and he always felt at peace when he was home.

The downside was that it was situated in the Finchbottom Vale, which nestled comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, but however attractive it might have been, it was featureless in many ways and that was a problem for Greg, and that is perhaps why he was drawn  to the scenic Pepperstock Hills National Park.

His love affair with the region began when, as a 12 year old boy, his Scout troop had their Summer Camp at Oxley Ridge.  

Following his first adventurous fortnight he returned to the Park whenever he could and after University he used his degree to get a job working in the Park, and after five years, when he heard the  owner of the Black Swan was retiring, he bought him out.

When he took it on it had 30 rooms and was aimed more at the lower end of the market, a hiking boot and Cagoule flophouse, Greg reduced it to 20 en suite rooms, aimed at a more discerning clientele and after three years the Hotel had built up a solid list of regular guests and had a high overall occupancy rate.

 

Jane Broomfield was also born and raised in Willow and had also fallen in love with the scenic Pepperstock Hills National Park from an early age, although she was unable to make the move Greg had, her family did not have the financial resources that the Monroe family had, the Bloomfield’s were by no means a poor family, as they had a long established Pharmacy in the village, but she still had to work for a living, so she worked in the shop and  had to content herself with regular long weekends and short breaks.

But that year her father had been very ill so she had to do a lot more hours in the shop while he was recovering, so when she drove up to Springwater at the end of August it was her first visit for 7 months.

The upside was that her Dad was now fully recovered and as she had missed numerous trip to the Park she had more money in the kitty than usual at her disposal so she decided to treat herself to a week at the Black Swan Hotel in Springwater. 

 

It was at the Black Swan where she first met Greg and also where they shared their first mutually satisfying shag.

After their first few sexual exchanges following that momentous occasion when she first felt his huge pulsing cock inside her, she had hoped to repeat the experience several more times in the days that followed but alas it was not to be, because of the Bank Holiday.

As on that weekend there were considerably more visitors in the National Park than usual so a greater presence by the National Park Rescue Team was required so Greg had volunteered to do two full days, that was of course before he had discovered the delights of Jane Bloomfield’s body, had he known he’d have had other things to do that weekend he would have stood himself down from Rescue duty.

 

But volunteer he did which was why day had begun on Bank Holiday Monday with Jane waking up very early, and very horny, so horny in fact that she needed to service herself beneath the sheets and once more in the shower, all because she had been deprived.

However, the reason for her exceptional horniness was in reality, not because she’d had none, but rather the prospect that she was going to be getting some that day, that was what had got her so hot. 

 

It was a glorious day and very hot, but not as hot as her loins as she approached Greg’s cottage, she was so eager to quench the fire in her knickers that she was an hour early, unfortunately there was no answer to her knocking.

Undeterred she reached over the top of the side gate and opened the latch and swung it open and walked into the little garden, and when she went around the back to the patio, she thought it was a nice little garden, even though it was predominantly laid to paving, with pots and planters of all shapes and sizes dotted around and a low stone wall separating it from his neighbours.

It was simple, functional and low maintenance which was essential when the occupant was either running his Hotel or out with the Rescue Team.

Across the wall however was much nicer than his, but then you get out of it what you put in, and the neighbour’s put a lot in.

They were retired and loved their garden and loved working in it and the result was there for all to see, a delightful English country garden.

But she was not there to smell the flowers, so she picked up one of the many pots and retrieved the spare key and let herself in, and decided as Greg was nowhere to be seen she needed to take matters into her own hands again.

 

When Greg got back to the cottage he entered by the front door and was greeted by a low moaning sound, so he quietly proceeded to investigate, and as soon as he reached the door to the lounge he found the source.

Jane was laying on the sofa with her back to him, half on her side, half on her stomach, and her position created a curve from her hip to her waist reminiscent of the slope of one of the hills he loved so much.

She had one hand cupping her breast, her fingers toying with her stiff nipple, and the other down the front of her pants, as evidenced by Greg’s view up her skirt of the unusual movement in the gusset of her knickers, as her busy fingers went about their purposeful task.

Her jet-black hair was tied back to reveal her neck and shoulders but her face was buried in a cushion so he walked up behind her and said

“You started without me again” he said and kissed her neck, so she turned and looked over her shoulder.

“Thank God you’re here” she gasped through gritted teeth

“Do you want some help?” he asked, and he gave her a long-wet kiss

“Yes, yes, oh God yes” she snapped and then he kissed her again

Longer and more passionate this time and she was responding in kind, and he slipped his hand beneath hers and cupped her tittie, and this action was initially welcomed with acquiescence, but she suddenly went rigid in response to the sound of children’s laughter.

“No, stop” she said and pushed his hand away “what’s that?”

He looked out through the French Windows and beyond the low wall at the girls splashing around in a paddling pool

“It’s the neighbours grandchildren” he explained and cupped her tit again “They can’t see us from there”

“Are you sure?” she asked as he toyed with her stiff nipple

“Positive” he replied, and they kissed again.

But she was still doubtful and rolled fully onto her stomach denying him access to her proud peak, so his unwanted hand journeyed onto her buttocks, he could still clearly see the contours of her fingers in her knickers and his hand followed the curve of her buttock to the top of her thigh as his fingers sought to join hers.

But her buttocks clenched, and her thighs closed before he could proceed and she lifted her head and asked again

“Are you sure?”

“Yes” he assured her and she relaxed again and he proceeded into her pants through her knicker leg and straight to juicy pussy and as soon as his fingers slipped into her creamy gash, she withdrew hers and then she lifted herself up onto her elbows and moaned softy and put her saucy fingers in her mouth and suck off every spec of juice from them, then she looked over her shoulder and said

“We should go upstairs”

“After I’ve had you here” he replied and she collapsed onto the sofa again and then began moaning louder as he continued to frig her, and as she was pretty well along the path before he got there, it wasn’t long before he brought her to climax, as she approached she grabbed a cushion and clamped it over her mouth and then she came, then her head lifted and she gasped.

“Oh Greg, I want you now”

“Good” he said, “because I want you, but only if you really want me too”

“Do it, do it now,” she urged so he released the eager beast from his shorts, before he adjusted her position and opened her up wide then he pulled the sodden gusset of her knickers aside with his thumb to reveal her pink moist pussy, before he guided his cock to its juicy destination.
“Oh that feels so good” Jane said, raising her head as he penetrated her “So good and so dirty”
Then her face was buried in the cushions to stifled her moans as he repeatedly skewered her with deep penetrating entries of her syrupy quim.
As he shortened his stroke and increased the tempo the sofa moved slightly and then Jane screamed a loud muffled scream into the upholstery and a second later he erupted inside her.

He withdrew his sticky shaft and she pushed herself up onto her elbows and she looked at him over her shoulder as he looked at the crotch of her sodden knickers which were still tucked aside with one side of her pants settled up the crease of her arse and her curly black pubes were clearly visible below her pink oozing pussy.
“That was so good” she purred “and so bad”