Showing posts with label Saint Patrick's Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Saint Patrick's Day. Show all posts

Tuesday, 16 March 2021

An Antidote To Writers Block (Part 66) St Patrick’s Day

 

In the early hours of Mothering Sunday morning I was violently shaken awake.

“You have to go,” Pandora said

“What? When?” I said

“In about an hour” she replied as she laced her fingers around my shaft.

“Now this is the kind of early morning call I like,” I said as she tugged on my cock and tongued my ear

Then in a trice Pandora was above me and she was rubbing her sticky lips against my helmet provocatively before she slowly slid down on me.

And then like a whirlwind Pandora pumped her pussy on me again and again thrashing about like a whirling dervish her tits bouncing wildly with each thrust.

And each one was followed by a grunt

“Huh”

Thrust

“Huh”

Thrust

“Huh”

One after another as she satisfied herself on my rod, all I could do was grab her arse and be mesmerised by her jiggling jugs.

Then her pumping action quickened

“Huh”

“Huh”

“Huh”

Until she came in a rousing crescendo

“HUH”

And my pulsing cock shot into her hot cunny. Then Pandora, panting hard collapsed on top of me, and let out a low sigh of contentment

“Mmmmm”

“Another one for the bank?” I asked

“Ohhhh yes” she said smugly  

 

Pandora had woken me early in the morning so I could sneak out before the neighbours were up and about; but she decided to wake me extra early so we could have a shag before I left.

So on that dark Sunday morning in March after a lingering goodbye kiss I walked home across the golf course.

 

When I got back home, the house was in darkness so I wandered off to the study and crawled onto the sofa bed and went out like a light.

However I didn’t sleep for long as I was woken by the district nurse at 7.45.

After she had left I took Katy a cup of tea and she said I should go back to bed as Marion was going to get her up for the day.

But annoyingly I couldn’t go back to sleep so I got up again.

After showering and dressing for the day I thought that as we had guests and as I was up so early anyway I would set about preparing a roast dinner.

As we had company I served dinner in the dining room, a rare treat as I had only used that room on a handful of occasions since I’d lived in the house and as a matter of fact it was the only room I hadn’t had sex in.

That would have to be remedied.

 

Along with the roast pork I even made Yorkshire puddings, which I normally have great success with but on this occasion, much to my embarrassment and Katy’s amusement, they came out more like Yorkshire biscuits.

Later when the nurse came and asked her what she had eaten that day she delighted in stating “Roast Pork and Yorkshire biscuits” 

And then fell about laughing.

It was lovely to see her in such high spirits’ even if the joke was at my expense it was well worth it.

 

It turned out to be beautiful spring afternoon so after lunch Katy sat on the patio while I cleared away the lunch things and Bob and Marion went out to explore the village.

 

When I put away the last of the dishes I made a drink and went out to join Katy on the patio.

As I put her mug on the table she took hold of my hand and said

“I know I’ve said it a lot but, thank you Simon, You’ve made me so happy”

“It was worth it just to see your face” I said and kissed her forehead.

As I sat down I added

“We just have to find the other one to complete the coven”

“You are so cheeky” she said and laughed

 

The warm spring interlude continued for the next few days but as the week went on it proved to be a false dawn and the cold weather returned and before the following weekend was out so did the snow.

 

With Marion and Bob in the house and the routine with the nurses running like clockwork I found myself with a bit of time on my hands.

My first thought was an away day with Claire but she was away at a conference all week so no joy there.

So after speaking to the girls and making sure they were comfortable with it I decided to pay some attention to my day job, namely my writing.

First of all I waded through the emails that had accumulated.

Most of them were of no importance so they went into the bin, the rest comprised of a number from Gay Gordon, gently reminding me that I hadn’t submitted anything lately.

Luckily before Katy moved in I managed to get ahead of the curve and I held some in reserve for just such a time, so I fired some off to him, which I hoped, would keep him quiet for a week or two at least.

The other emails of importance were both in reference to the same thing, i.e. Gerald Overend’s stories.

There was a publisher pressing me for a date when the written stories would be available and one from the company that showed an interest in the sound recordings, there were of course emails from my agent in regard to both of the a fore mentioned messages.

 

I emailed the publisher and Lionel and told them the written stories would be available by the end of the week, as it turned out I got them there a day early.

Luckily most of the work was done so I just had to spend the next day and a half completing them and then I couriered the first drafts to the publishers.

 

The sound recordings I couldn’t do anything about until I had spoken with Tilly so I phoned Sound Bites on Tuesday morning and asked to speak with her.

I was informed by Gloria, the unhelpful receptionist, that she was not available, I was about to leave a message for her to call me but instead I asked

“Is Tristan available?”

It turned out that he was as his was the next voice I heard 

“Tristan speaking”

“Hi Tris, its Simon” I said

“Hi Simon how are things?” he asked

“Not bad” I replied “Listen I’m trying to get hold of Tilly”

“She flew to the states this morning” he told me

“Damn” I cursed

“Anything I can help with?” I asked

“Well it’s about the tapes” I said, “I’m getting chased for them”

“Well I’m pretty sure they’re finished,” he said doubtfully “but I’ll get her to call you”

And we left it at that.

 

It was Thursday before she returned my call.

“Simon” she said brightly “Sorry it’s taken so long to get back to you, but the time difference really mess’s with my head”

“That’s ok” I lied

“Anyway all the recording are complete, so we should meet to see where we go from here”

“Ok great” I said “when”?

“Well I get back in late Friday which means on Saturday I’m going to be a cabbage so how about Sunday” she suggested “Lunch maybe, you me and Tristan”

“Ok great” I replied “Get Tris to ring me with the details”

 

Marion was going to stay in the UK for a couple more weeks at least but on Friday Bob flew back to the states; I borrowed Geoff’s Passat and drove them to the airport while Judith looked after Katy.

It was a bitterly cold day but compared to Alaska Bob and Marion thought it was quite pleasant.

I dropped Bob at departures and sat in the car with the engine running while they said their goodbyes and we got back to the village mid-afternoon.

 

On Sunday I left Marion looking after her sister and walked towards the station, it had just started to snow, and I was late leaving.

But although I was running behind my time I decided to call in at Mahajak’s on the way, just to see how Shula was coping after the death of her husband and as I walked into the shop I could distinctly hear giggling coming from behind the bead curtain at the back of the shop.

I was met by a smiling Maisie who said

“That’s loves young dream”

“Ah” I exclaimed “no need to ask if she’s bearing up then”

“She doing just find” she answered and gave me a wink

“I’ll go and catch my train then” I said, “see you later hon”

“Bye Simon” she replied still smiling

Well that was a relief, I was worried I had neglected her since Omid died but Alois had obviously taken my advice about being a shoulder to cry on, he had obviously extended that to be a lap for her to straddle as well

“Excellent” I said to myself as I approached the station.

 

I had planned to meet up with Tristan and Tilly in Kiddingstone at a restaurant called “The Pigs Trotter” at half past twelve, I had left my house five minutes later than I intended but for some unknown reason I arrived in Kiddingstone half an hour early.

I stood outside the station staring at my watch and scratching my head trying to figure out where I had gone wrong.

It was snowing hard and I was feeling the cold so I decide to have a beer at the nearest watering hole, which happened to be “Old Bell Inn” known affectionately by the locals as the “Old Bell End”.

As it was St Patrick’s Day the pub was bedecked in Green bunting and the Irish flag was draped everywhere,

It wasn’t a proper Irish pub despite the décor, the Guinness on tap and the Irish music.

I ordered a Guinness and sat at the nearest table and smiled at the tableaux before me.

The music was good, the only problem was they were playing a mixture of Irish rebel songs and Orangemen marching tunes luckily there was no one in the pub Irish enough to be offended.

It was just a bunch of piss heads taking advantage of two for ones, any excuse to get pissed on cheap booze.

 

I was halfway down my pint when I spotted a familiar face.

She had long straight brown hair and a rather plain, heavily freckled face, but lovely blue eyes, a cute nose and a thin-lipped smile.

She was short with a nice little figure, decked out for the occasion. The shabby tights that she was wearing the last time we met had been replaced by a rather more superior quality product in green which encased her shapely legs.

She also had on a flared green dress and a green hat. In fact the only things she was wearing that weren’t green were her tiny black shoes.

I watched her move from table to table collecting empties and putting them on the bar.

She was an altogether more confident lass that the shy little mouse I met on the Guildford train who, slightly the worse for drink entertained me by displaying the full majesty of her hairy Minge before her tiny hand and nimble fingers began frigging at her fanny before my eyes.

I got a distinct boner as I recalled that remarkable journey.

I had to take over when she faltered and finished her off and creamed my jeans at the same time.

I continued to appraise her as my cock bulged in my pants but I couldn’t get up and walk to the bar and speak to her due to the obvious swelling, so I called out.

“Doreen? Doreen Clarke?”

“Yes” she answered as she turned towards me, and as recognition dawned on her face she went crimson red

“Simon” she said and walked over towards me.

“Hello” I said

“Hi Simon” she responded still blushing

“You never did phone me” I remarked

“I didn’t know what to say,” she said in her coy mousy voice.

“”Hi Simon. Doreen would like to play” would have sufficed” I said

“Ok” she replied, “I’ve still got your number”

“Good” I said then I looked at my watch “oh God! I have to go”

I drained my glass and stood up; luckily the shock of now being late again instantly cooled my ardour so I could stand with no embarrassment and towered over her diminutive figure.

“I might be back later,” I said

“I finish at seven” Doreen replied

“If I miss you call me” I instructed

“Ok I will” she replied

 

I reached “The Pigs Trotter” at half past twelve on the dot only to find the other two were late, they sauntered in fifteen minutes later.

“Sorry we’re late” Tristan said, “my fault I’m afraid, my train was delayed”

 

It was a fruitful meeting and an exceptionally nice meal.

We determined a plan of action, as I couldn’t dedicate the necessary time to the project because of Katy, I gave them carte blanche to deal directly with the distributer and they would keep Lionel in the loop as well.

When we left the restaurant we went back to Tills place and spent a relaxing afternoon.

About six o’clock I decided to make a move, Tristan decided he couldn’t be bothered so was going to spend the night at Tilly’s but I wanted to get back so I said my goodbyes and headed to the station.

It was snowing heavily and when I reached the station I found that no trains were running, I tried the taxi rank but there were no cabs to be found.

I was about to go back to Tilly’s when I remembered Doreen and walked to the “Old Bell Inn” instead.

I went to the reception and managed to secure their last vacant room.

It was a few minutes after seven when I was handed the key for room six and as the rather gruff receptionist returned to the bar a small figure wrapped up against the cold, came through the door from the noisy lounge bar and stopped dead when they caught sight of me.

“Simon” she said, her voice muffled by her scarf.

“Is that Doreen under all that?” I asked

She didn’t speak she just nodded.

“Where are you off to?” I queried

“I’ve got to get home,” she said

“There aren’t any trains,” I told her

“What? To Guildford?” she asked urgently

“To anywhere” I replied

“And there are no taxis either”

 “Oh shit,” Doreen exclaimed

“I have to try” she said, “I’d like to stay, but I have to try”

“Ok hon” I said “I’m in 6 if you change your mind”

And she disappeared out into the snowy night,

Resigned to the fact I wasn’t going to get my end away I went into the bar and ordered a pint of Guinness but it was all a bit loud and raucous so I took it up to my room.

At first glance it was a bit small and dingy but on reflection I had been a bit spoilt with some of the hotels I had frequented with Claire and Pandora so I chastised myself for being such a snob.

I sat on the bed and phoned home to tell Katy and Marion I was snowed in, in Kiddingstone.

Katy said she suspected as much as the nurse was having to stay at the house, as she couldn’t get out of the village.

That put my mind at rest so I said goodnight and promised to be back as soon as possible the next day.  

 

When I hung up I sat on the bed and switched on the TV and watched the end of one of the Rocky movies, I’m not sure which, as I drank my beer.

 

After about an hour I was convinced Doreen had somehow found a route home.

So I went into the bathroom and had a pee then as it was cold in the room I decided to get undressed and get into bed almost in time for the next film to start, this time it was one of the Jaws franchise, again not sure which, it had a big fish in it and involved a lot of splashing about.

Anyway I only lasted about ten minutes and the long blinks set in which quickly led to sleep.

 

I was woken from my slumber by a persistent tapping on the door.

I looked at my watch and only twenty minutes had elapsed since I drifted off.

I got out of bed and was just about to open the door when I remembered I was naked so I quickly grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wrapped it around me sarong style.

I opened the door and found the source of the tapping was Doreen, still wrapped up against the weather with melting snow on her shoulders.

Only her eyes and nose were visible between her woollen hat and matching scarf, and her eyes bore the evidence of crying.

“Come in Honey” I said and the moment the door closed she buried her cold face in my naked chest and began to cry.

“I”

“Cant”

“Get”

“Home” she said between sobs

Inside my head I said

“Well I did tell you that”

But saying it out loud would not have helped the situation so I just thought it and made sympathetic noises instead.

“All the trains are cancelled,” she said

“I know,” I thought

“And I couldn’t find a cab”

“I told you that as well,” I thought

“A friend offered to drive me but we only got about a mile or so and then the road was closed, so we came back”

After a few moments I asked

“What’s at home that you are so desperate to get home for?”

I was certain it wasn’t a significant other, that wouldn’t fit with her performance on the train and again in the disabled toilet at Guildford station.

“My mum” she answered

“For god’s sake” I thought “you’re in your mid-twenties, you’re a big girl now”

Out loud I just said

“Oh?”

“She has dementia, and I’m her carer”

Well did I feel bad when I heard that.

“I had to try and get home” Doreen said “but when I couldn’t I had to phone around and find someone to check on her”

“And did you?” I asked sympathetically

“Yes” she said with relief “one of the neighbours offered to stay with her overnight”

Then we just stood in the room for, I don’t know how long, her dressed in her outdoor clothes and me in a towel.  

Until the pattern of her breathing changed and I felt the feather light kisses from her soft lips on my chest which prompted the tell-tale tingle beneath my towel.

Her lips journeyed up my chest until they reached mine and she kissed me, a long deep liquid kiss with darting tongues, a quite electric kiss with just the right amount of urgency.

I was just contemplating getting inside her outdoor apparel when she broke away and jerked the towel off me

She stood back giving me an appraising look and bit her lip as she stared at my erection.

She flicked her eyes up and made the briefest contact with mine enough to cause her to blush but not enough to prevent her from returning her gaze to my swollen cock.

I sat down on the bed and Doreen removed her outdoor clothes.

She sat on a chair and removed her boots before returning to the middle of the room.

“Well don’t stop there,” I said

“No you have to do it” she replied

I stood up and stepped towards her, her gaze still fixed unashamedly on my cock.

We kissed again but this time her small hands busied themselves caressing my naked flesh.

Meanwhile I used one hand and unzipped the back of her dress while the other one was on her shoulder and instantly pulled the sleeve of her dress down her arm, Doreen obligingly slipped her arm out, and as the fabric fell away I was able to see her small breast encased behind pale green lace.

I repeated the operation with the other sleeve and the dress fell away to the floor and Doreen used her tiny feet to kick it away.

I glanced in the mirror and could see the reflection of her rear aspect as she stood there in just her underclothes and tights.

She had a tidy little figure and a gorgeous little arse, which I quickly fondled.

Then my hands proceed upwards and unhooked her bra. I didn’t wait to discard the garment first I just moved my hand straight to the prize and cupped her tit she sighed and snorted air in deeply through her nose as I toyed with her stiffening nipple.

Our mouths disengaged briefly and she took the opportunity to wriggle free from her harness.

Still fondling her breast we kissed again. But my cock was throbbing and there was a tell-tale ache in my balls so reluctantly I released her pert tittie and instead slid my hands down inside her tights and knickers to fondle the flesh of her plump cheeks.

It took little effort to roll her tights down her buttocks to the top of her thighs.

I picked her up and in one fluid motion turned and threw her onto the bed, she gave a little scream as she landed on the bed followed by a fruity chuckle when I grabbed her ankle and began peeling her tights from her legs.

When she was naked I gave her a thorough appraisal, every inch of her small freckled frame with the pert tits and stiffened nipples and a flat stomach leading to her gloriously hairy brunette bush.

I dropped to my knees and began kissing my way up her thigh to that magnificent minge.

As enjoyable as our shag at Guildford station had been last year she didn’t have the time for me to do her full justice, and noshing her was not an option,

At the “Old Bell Inn” on St Patricks Day however I had all the time in the world.

As I proceeded upward along her thigh I could smell her pungent odour, a wonderful mix of femininity, arousal and twelve hours since it was last showered, this heady fragrance spurred me on, I looked up briefly and saw Doreen laying there with eyes closed biting her lip and as she opened up wide for me I buried my face in her moist minge.

Once I had satisfied both Doreen and my animal appetite.

I began kissing my way up her body, her primeval fragrance all around my mouth, I stopped when I reached her breasts and sucked on her teats while I fingered her hot pussy with two fingers, Doreen moaned deliciously as I frigged her and barked like a seal as she came.

I raised my head from my task to revel in her extraordinary exclamation.

Leaving her misshapen nipples wet with my saliva. I put my hand behind her neck and lifted her head up towards me so I could kiss her.

Despite my face still being wet with her pungent juices she responded urgently to my kiss, her tongue darting energetically in and out of my mouth.

Taking her by surprise I pushed her onto her back again and she looked up at me wickedly.

I was still kneeling on the floor and with her lying stretched out before be with one hand grasping a handful of duvet and the other playing with her swollen nipple.

She spread her legs wide and her juicy quim was at the perfect height to receive me.

She sucked in air through her teeth as I penetrated her and her skinny legs wrapped around me.

 “Ahhhhh” she exclaimed when I was all the way in.

Doreen wriggled like a fish on the riverbank as I repeatedly skewered her tight juicy fanny and it was wetting my bally more and more with every stroke.

She came three times in quick succession making the same delicious sound, like a mother panting through a contraction.

“Shhh”

“Shhh”

“Shhh

Followed by a more expressive

“Ohhhh”

I knew I couldn’t hold off much longer as I pumped her pussy I was very close to that ecstatic moment of conclusion

Doreen’s next big orgasm would be the finale for us both.

I had a great rhythm going and her skinny legs were still gripping me hard.

And as the strokes shortened her exclamations changed to soft rhythmic pants

“Ooh”

“Ooh”

Until we reached that perfect point of climax when we both came together and she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Ahhhhhh”

As I emptied my sac into her grateful gash.

When I pulled out of her quivering quim she let out a long soft sigh of satisfaction.