Mornington-By-Mere
is a small country village lying in the Finchbottom Vale nestled between the
Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
It is a
quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor
House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a
Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
But this
Christmas tale is set in the Manor House during Christmas 1958 when the house
was full of the St George clan and their peripheral family and the Adamson’s
and the Tarling’s fell into the latter group.
Sixteen-year-old Paul Tarling loved Christmas, though not in a
childish way, he had no interest in Father Christmas, and it held no religious
significance, as he had no faith.
He loved Christmas for the same reason he loved all the family
gatherings, his Cousin Claire Adamson.
Claire lived in Paris and was a real beauty, who oozed sexuality and
when Paul was thirteen and he had his first wet dreams it was Claire he was
dreaming about and the earliest contributions to his wank bank were the sensual
images of her.
For a young adolescent during his sexual awakening, she was manna from
heaven with her long blond hair, generous bosom, the flattering sweep of her
hips, the roundness of her magnificent buttocks and long shapely legs, so who
wouldn’t be impressed and horny at the sight of her.
For Paul the whole package made a most wonderful vision of sexuality which gladdened
his young man’s eye and stirred his teenage loins.
It was from around about the time Paul turned 14 that Claire first
became aware of the effect she was having on him, and she was so flattered that
she began to give him little treats.
She would show him a generous expanse of shapely stockinged leg or
bend over in front of him and give him the full benefit of her great round arse
or present him with the vision of her gaping blouse and its overstuffed contents.
Paul really looked forward to the high days and holidays and as he got
older and Claire realised, she was still able to affect him so did she.
The truth of the matter was that it really excited her to be able to
make him squirm in his seat and cause a bulge in his pants almost at will, which
she always noticed, as much as he tried to hide it from her, and she would
always have to deploy her fingers to her pussy afterwards.
Claire wasn’t excited by arousing a young man because she was
frustrated or anything of that nature, looking as she did, she was not short of
male attention and her generous heart was fulfilled romantically and
emotionally and she was very well served in the bedroom.
So, because her power over him excited her so much Claire decided as
he had just turned seventeen, she would give him a very special Christmas
present, and reward herself at the same time.
Claire positioned herself, on the sofa in the Morning Room, opposite
the chair Paul was sitting in.
She knew instantly that she had his attention, so she slowly crossed
her legs and exposed a tantalising expanse of thigh from her knee up to her
stocking top.
As she sat there amidst the chattering family, she repeated the
manoeuvre time after tantalising time and Paul’s eyes were transfixed on
Claire’s delightful tableaux and then another adjustment of her posture
disclosed not only both her stocking tops but everything beyond because she was
naked underneath.
Paul could see right up her dress all the way up to her hairy heath, he glanced
up and saw Claire was looking at him and smiling.
Paul went very red indeed, but he couldn’t stop looking at her and his
eyes quickly returned to her muff.
They found themselves alone then and Claire upped the stakes when she
began slowly opening her legs, wider and wider, showing him more and more until
finally he could see everything, and he filled his pants with his seed.
He wasn’t sure at first if she realised, he had just creamed his pants but when
she smiled broadly at him, he knew and he was so embarrassed, but he couldn’t
leave, not while she was watching because although he had emptied his sac his
erection was still very much in evidence.
Claire felt no embarrassment whatsoever but what she did feel was
extreme horniness, she always ended up turned on when she played her little
games with Paul, and would need an immediate fingering, but watching him shoot
his load in front of her really got Claire wet, and when she noticed the damp
patch on his jeans, she decided she was going to have him.
But she knew it couldn’t be then, but she was resolved it was going to
happen.
In the meantime, she would have to go immediately to her room to quell
the fire that Paul had ignited in her with some furious fingering.
It was two days later when Claire got her way or more precisely had
her way.
It was Boxing day when everyone was going on the traditional Boxing
Day shoot, but not everyone was going, Paul being one of them, Claire was
another.
After breakfast Paul went upstairs to his room to get his book, but
soon realised he was not the only one upstairs, as he passed Claire’s open door
he looked in and saw Claire standing beside the fourposter, where she removed
her bra, then she turned her attention to her French knicker, pulling them down
over her hips and letting gravity take them the rest of the way.
So now she was only wearing stockings, suspenders, and a seductive
smile.
In typical teenager fashion the sight of the object of his lust
removing her underwear brought an immediate swelling to his trousers which
Claire was only too pleased to see.
“Come in and close the door” she said and when he had complied, she
began unbuttoning his fly and added
“Let’s get this out, we don’t want it going off too soon”
So, Paul Tarling lost his virginity that Boxing Day morning to a woman
ten years his senior, but she kept him entertained for most of the day and over
the following week Aunty Claire continued his sexual education until the New
Year.
But that Christmas was not the end of their lusty relationship,
because the families gathered often throughout the year.
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