The village of Oakvale-On-Roe is in the north of the relatively small English county of
Downshire, situated between the old market Town of Nettlebridge, and their more affluent neighbour Roespring, and in
the affluent Shepherds Row area of the village and was where St Nicholas Church
Treasurer Andrew Brookes lived.
He was 35 years old, independently wealthy,
unmarried and had a reputation as a ladies’ man, and that reputation was well
warranted.
A frequent flyer on Andrews erotic express was the
vicar’s wife Jill Brown and one of those who wanted to get on board was her
20-year-old daughter Emily and the only reason he hadn’t bedded her was that he
preferred his women a bit more experienced, and more sexually mature.
Andrew had lived in the village his whole life, but
Reverend Brown and his family were relative newcomers having taken over
following Reverend
Thomson’s retirement.
His sexual relationship with the vicar’s wife was
not an affair, Jill Brown was just a frustrated woman who loved her husband but
had a non-existent marital sex life, and the occasional itch to scratch.
When a parishioner had a little too much to drink
at a parochial BBQ, she let slip that Andrew Brookes was a sure thing if you
had a fire quenching.
So, after that she made it her mission to get him
to ball her, and as soon as possible, she was already abusing herself on a
daily basis just to manage her urges.
Eventually
after a prolonged period of flirting she took the bull by the horns and called
at his house one morning and just hoped that he wasn’t already servicing
another parishioner.
“Ah
Jill” he said as he opened the door “How lovely to see you”
“Hello
Andrew, I have to talk to you about a donation” she said
When
they were seated in his lounge with a glass of wine, he said
“Tell
me more about this donation, is it large”
Being
unaccustomed to promiscuity she took a deep breath and replied
“Well,
that depends on what you’re prepared to give me”
“So
let me get this straight, we’re not talking about parochial finances” Andrew
asked
“No,
we’re not” she admitted and blushed beetroot red
“So,
for further clarification you want whatever I’m prepared to give you?”
“Oh
God yes” she gasped
“In
which case I’m only too pleased to oblige” he said and put his hand on her
thigh.
It
was midafternoon when she left after obliging her for the third time and that
kept her going for a few weeks before she needed to go to the well again.
After
that they always referred to their couplings as donations, and they developed a
code for what she wanted.
A
small donation was just a cheeky finger, a modest donation was oral, a Large
Donation was a sound fucking and a substantial Donation was a thorough bedding.
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