(Part 01)
“Take care of her?” said Winifred Hawkes-Holland as he opened the driver’s car door.
“Will do boss” Harry replied giving his passenger a wry smile as he got behind the wheel.
“I’m not a child,” Clare shouted petulantly out of the open window “and I don’t need babysitting”
It was certainly true to say that Clare Hawkes was not a child, far from it.
No one who ever saw the 25 years old would ever have described her as such, childish, possibly, but not a child.
After all Clare stood an inch short of six feet tall which was evidence of adulthood in itself but if that didn’t convince you then her long legs, voluminous rolling hips and a 44” bust would.
No, Clare was not a child, but her mother, as mothers always do, would always see her thus.
But Winifred Hawkes-Holland wasn’t merely Clare’s mother she was also her employer.
Holland brothers bought and sold Antiques and collectables, a business that Winifred married into and now Clare was going on her first solo-buying trip.
Even though technically she wasn’t going solo and it would have been her maiden trip but for the fact Harry Mortimer was sent with her as a babysitter.
Harry had been with the Holland’s since he left school and he was greatly trusted by Win.
And as he was in his early forties and unremarkable looking and was to all and sundry average in all respects she trusted there would be no shenanigans.
Suffice is to say Winifred trusted her precious daughter was in safe hands with Harry Mortimer.
On the journey from Northern Downshire all the way down to Finchbottom, Clare was still berating Harry on her mother’s distrust of her.
“It’s not that she doesn’t trust you,” He said
“She doesn’t seem to realise that I’m a grown woman,” she continued
“We are all aware you are a grown woman” Harry said and after pause added
“Well aware”
Clare looked at him and raised her eye brows
“So what have you noticed?” she asked with amusement
Harry blushed to his roots under her gaze
“Nnnnothing” he stammered
“Come on Harry” she pressed
“Just that I have noticed that you are no longer a child” he replied
The rest of the journey passed largely in silence with Clare admiring the countryside while occasionally sneaking glances at her driver.
They stopped that night at the White Horse Inn in Finchbottom and spent the evening in the restaurant where Clare drank more than was good for her.
Harry thought she had been in a strange mood since the journey down and kept looking at him in a funny way.
But Clare was drinking too much, and she was flirting and he had never seen her do that before, and he couldn’t let it continue.
If he did, her mother would not consider that “Taking care of her”
“Come on party girl” he said “bedtime”
“Oh goody” she said draining her glass
Accompanied by outrageous flirting and downright suggestive behaviour Harry steered her up the stairs
“Up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire” he said and when they reached the top he headed towards her room at the end of the corridor.
(Part 02)
When they got to her door Clare announced
“Honey! I’m home”
Harry propped her against the doorframe as he unlocked the door and she began kissing his neck.
“Behave yourself” he said and gave her a playful slap on her bum.
“Oooh are you going to spank me Harry?” she asked
“Get in there young lady” he said and guided her through the door
“I love it when you’re all masterful” Clare responded and wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to kiss him.
Harry managed to avoid her lips at the last second as the door slammed shut behind them and they performed a strange ungracious waltz into the room.
“Here we are young lady,” he said as he prepared to lower her onto the bed
“Bedfordshire” Clare said gleefully, and span Harry around then pushed him backwards onto the bed and she kicked off her shoes and jumped on top of him.
Harry began to protest but her soft lips and hot mouth clamped over his and her tongue was like a serpent.
Harry’s resistance lasted less than a minute, after all he had dreamt of that moment since she was 17.
His hands began to claw the shirt free of her waistband and then with great urgency she sat upright and pulled the shirt off over her head and threw it aside.
Her hands trembled as her fingers fumbled at his shirt buttons but when she had accomplished her task she ran her fingers through the hairs on his chest.
And those same trembling hands that caressed his flesh went behind her back and unhooked her bra.
Harry was looking at her face while her hands were on his chest but the moment her hands began unfastening her bra his eyes stared at her harnessed breasts and as the tension around them relaxed he reached up and pulled the bra off and discarded it and revelled at the sight of Clare’s great round breasts then she leant forward and delivered them into his waiting hands and her mouth returned to his.
Her breasts were rising and falling and Harry could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her kissing became more intense.
She sat up again and hurriedly undid his trousers and then climbed off him and dragged his trousers and pants off.
Harry raised himself up onto his elbows as Clare wriggled out of her jeans and then tantalizing slipped off her panties to reveal a neatly clipped triangle of black hair.
And when she climbed back on him she didn’t hesitate for a second before expertly enveloping Harry’s shaft with her welcoming wetness.
Clare was on him and he was at her mercy as she rose and fell on him and on each fall Harry grunted his appreciation as his hands groped her buttocks.
As Clare raised the tempo her panting came in coarse rasping breaths, each one coarser and more guttural than the one preceding it, until she cried out in orgasm.
After Clare had ridden Harry to an exhausting climax, the sweating panting beast with her raven black hair in wild disarray and eyes wide with primal lust smiled a smile of lasciviousness.
“Do you think this is what your mum meant when she said, “Take care of her”?” Harry asked
“Oh yes I think so” she said “and when you recover you can “take care of me” again”
And Harry took care of her every day they were on the road and on future trips Clare always insisted on having her babysitter with her in order to “Take care of her”.
Monday, 27 March 2017
Sunday, 26 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (012) The Lady in the Black Dress
It was a beautiful moonlit night at the Midsummers Eve Ball and just before midnight Luke Martin was enjoying an illicit cigar on the East Terrace of the Great Hall.
The reason he chose that particular place to smoke was because it was the furthest from the ballroom and therefore the furthest away from his wife’s disapproving eye.
But that wasn’t the only reason he always sought out that spot.
He also went there to be alone because he rarely saw another soul, and he liked that, he liked the solitude, and he liked to enjoy his smoke in peace.
He looked up at the hunter’s moon hanging in the clear night sky as he exhaled the mellow smoke long and slow, which was when his peace was broken by the clip clop of stiletto heels on the flagstones.
He was just about to lambast the intruder for invading his retreat but when he turned to look at the source of his annoyance, he saw it was the girl in the black dress or more precisely the Lady in the black dress, Lady Samantha Lyndon-Sanders.
The black dress in question was a full length evening dress which fitted her every contour and even in the moonlight it was patently obvious that she was completely naked beneath it.
“Hello Luke” she said “I thought I’d find you here”
“And you were looking for me why?” he said impatiently
Luke had known Lady Sam for several years and had always fancied her but he was a bit short with her because he just wanted to smoke his cigar in peace.
“Oh I just fancied a smoke” Lady Samantha replied falsely
“I’d like to know where you have your cigarettes hidden” he said looking her slowly up and down and the only things he located were her proud nipples.
“I don’t have any” she replied “as you can see well enough”
“I would have to agree that what I can see poking through your dress are not cigarette” he said
“No they’re not” she agreed “So I’ll share yours”
Lady Samantha stood very close to him as she took the cigar from his hand and took a long drag on it which Luke found strangely arousing.
They stood on the terrace in the moonlight together and smoked the stogey to a stub and Luke flicked it into the night.
“Well what do we do now?” she said “The night is young”
But before Luke could answer she began kissing him passionately on the mouth which he instantly reciprocated while his hands caressed every inch of her his hands could reach, and as his hands confirmed Lady Samantha’s lack of underwear, her hand pulled down his zip fly and expertly extracted the evidence of his arousal through the opening so her evening gloved hand could proceed to tug gently on his shaft.
Lady Samantha stopped kissing him and smiled as she continued tugging on his cock, then she dropped to her knees and eagerly took him in her mouth.
Luke stood on the patio in the moonlight as Lady Sam consumed him expertly and with relish until he exploded in her mouth.
“Wow” he said as he zipped up his fly “That was the best smoke I ever had”
“Wait until next time” Lady Samantha said getting to her feet and brushing the dirt off her knees.
“You can have the rest of me when there’s no cotton mouse in the way”
“I’ll look forward to it” he said
“And so you should” she responded and kissed him and then clip clopped back to the Ball.
The reason he chose that particular place to smoke was because it was the furthest from the ballroom and therefore the furthest away from his wife’s disapproving eye.
But that wasn’t the only reason he always sought out that spot.
He also went there to be alone because he rarely saw another soul, and he liked that, he liked the solitude, and he liked to enjoy his smoke in peace.
He looked up at the hunter’s moon hanging in the clear night sky as he exhaled the mellow smoke long and slow, which was when his peace was broken by the clip clop of stiletto heels on the flagstones.
He was just about to lambast the intruder for invading his retreat but when he turned to look at the source of his annoyance, he saw it was the girl in the black dress or more precisely the Lady in the black dress, Lady Samantha Lyndon-Sanders.
The black dress in question was a full length evening dress which fitted her every contour and even in the moonlight it was patently obvious that she was completely naked beneath it.
“Hello Luke” she said “I thought I’d find you here”
“And you were looking for me why?” he said impatiently
Luke had known Lady Sam for several years and had always fancied her but he was a bit short with her because he just wanted to smoke his cigar in peace.
“Oh I just fancied a smoke” Lady Samantha replied falsely
“I’d like to know where you have your cigarettes hidden” he said looking her slowly up and down and the only things he located were her proud nipples.
“I don’t have any” she replied “as you can see well enough”
“I would have to agree that what I can see poking through your dress are not cigarette” he said
“No they’re not” she agreed “So I’ll share yours”
Lady Samantha stood very close to him as she took the cigar from his hand and took a long drag on it which Luke found strangely arousing.
They stood on the terrace in the moonlight together and smoked the stogey to a stub and Luke flicked it into the night.
“Well what do we do now?” she said “The night is young”
But before Luke could answer she began kissing him passionately on the mouth which he instantly reciprocated while his hands caressed every inch of her his hands could reach, and as his hands confirmed Lady Samantha’s lack of underwear, her hand pulled down his zip fly and expertly extracted the evidence of his arousal through the opening so her evening gloved hand could proceed to tug gently on his shaft.
Lady Samantha stopped kissing him and smiled as she continued tugging on his cock, then she dropped to her knees and eagerly took him in her mouth.
Luke stood on the patio in the moonlight as Lady Sam consumed him expertly and with relish until he exploded in her mouth.
“Wow” he said as he zipped up his fly “That was the best smoke I ever had”
“Wait until next time” Lady Samantha said getting to her feet and brushing the dirt off her knees.
“You can have the rest of me when there’s no cotton mouse in the way”
“I’ll look forward to it” he said
“And so you should” she responded and kissed him and then clip clopped back to the Ball.
Saturday, 25 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (011) A Woman of a Certain Age
It was just after the Sunday morning service had ended at St Jude’s when Michael Scanlon spotted her and thought for a woman of her age she had a particularly nice figure.
The woman in question had just come down the steps from the church and had stopped briefly to converse with friends and by that time he was sitting at a table outside the Café Espresso just opposite the church entrance.
He was not a Christian himself but he was often sat outside the Church on a Sunday morning when church emptied.
Which on the face of it sounds very wrong, but in his defence he sits there waiting for the Phoenix shopping centre to open, but he would have to admit that he did get a kick out of ogling all the Christian women in their Sunday best.
He knew the woman slightly, her name was Lorraine Lyon and they were both members of the same Golf club, Forest Ridge.
She was a very wealthy woman by all accounts, which was self-evident by the way she was dressed, though her financial status was of secondary concern to him when he looked at her.
Everything Lorraine wore was real quality and she was always immaculately turned out.
So he was quite surprised on that day to see her standing chatting on the concourse wearing of all things, leggings, expensive, good quality leggings, but leggings nonetheless.
His surprise quickly abated however as he looked at the exquisite fit of the leggings and he was just thinking to himself that she had a very nice arse, when she shifted her body weight from one leg to the other and turned slightly towards him just as a beam of sunlight fell upon her, or at least on the part of her he was looking at, and as it illuminated her hind quarters it revealed as clear as day her big black knickers underneath the exquisitely fitted leggings.
It was at that point he decided to chance his arm; after her conversation was over he got up and went over and intercepted her.
“Lorraine?” he said
“Oh hello” she replied, “Mr. Scanlon isn’t it?”
“Please call me Michael,” he said
“Michael” she complied
Once he had her attention they chatted about the Forest Ridge Golf Club and the upcoming ladies day.
“You must be in with a chance of a medal” Michael said “A player of your standard”
“Oh dear me” she said all flustered “I don’t know about that”
And having duly flattered her to the point of blushing he invited her to lunch which she graciously accepted.
He was confident that she would, after all a woman of her age would always be at the very least flattered by the attention of a younger man especially one 9 years younger.
Michael had always been attracted to older women, not too much older five or ten years normally.
But of course by the time he reached his 50s there seemed to be an overabundance of suitable candidates for his lust, widows mainly, which kept him gainfully employed.
They enjoyed a very pleasant lunch, which consisted of three courses, two bottles of wine and an abundance of flirting, at a very decent restaurant from where after plying her with liberal amounts of wine he drove her home.
“It was a very nice lunch Michael,” she said as he pulled up on the drive outside her very large house. “Thank you”
“My pleasure” he said with further pleasures on his mind and then she asked
“Would you like to come in for coffee?”
“I would love to” he replied
And after coffee Michael did what he was actually invited in to do which was to liberate Lorraine from her expensive leggings and tug off her classy black knickers off her plump mature arse and too their mutual pleasure gave her a proper Sunday service in her deceased husband favourite chair.
The woman in question had just come down the steps from the church and had stopped briefly to converse with friends and by that time he was sitting at a table outside the Café Espresso just opposite the church entrance.
He was not a Christian himself but he was often sat outside the Church on a Sunday morning when church emptied.
Which on the face of it sounds very wrong, but in his defence he sits there waiting for the Phoenix shopping centre to open, but he would have to admit that he did get a kick out of ogling all the Christian women in their Sunday best.
He knew the woman slightly, her name was Lorraine Lyon and they were both members of the same Golf club, Forest Ridge.
She was a very wealthy woman by all accounts, which was self-evident by the way she was dressed, though her financial status was of secondary concern to him when he looked at her.
Everything Lorraine wore was real quality and she was always immaculately turned out.
So he was quite surprised on that day to see her standing chatting on the concourse wearing of all things, leggings, expensive, good quality leggings, but leggings nonetheless.
His surprise quickly abated however as he looked at the exquisite fit of the leggings and he was just thinking to himself that she had a very nice arse, when she shifted her body weight from one leg to the other and turned slightly towards him just as a beam of sunlight fell upon her, or at least on the part of her he was looking at, and as it illuminated her hind quarters it revealed as clear as day her big black knickers underneath the exquisitely fitted leggings.
It was at that point he decided to chance his arm; after her conversation was over he got up and went over and intercepted her.
“Lorraine?” he said
“Oh hello” she replied, “Mr. Scanlon isn’t it?”
“Please call me Michael,” he said
“Michael” she complied
Once he had her attention they chatted about the Forest Ridge Golf Club and the upcoming ladies day.
“You must be in with a chance of a medal” Michael said “A player of your standard”
“Oh dear me” she said all flustered “I don’t know about that”
And having duly flattered her to the point of blushing he invited her to lunch which she graciously accepted.
He was confident that she would, after all a woman of her age would always be at the very least flattered by the attention of a younger man especially one 9 years younger.
Michael had always been attracted to older women, not too much older five or ten years normally.
But of course by the time he reached his 50s there seemed to be an overabundance of suitable candidates for his lust, widows mainly, which kept him gainfully employed.
They enjoyed a very pleasant lunch, which consisted of three courses, two bottles of wine and an abundance of flirting, at a very decent restaurant from where after plying her with liberal amounts of wine he drove her home.
“It was a very nice lunch Michael,” she said as he pulled up on the drive outside her very large house. “Thank you”
“My pleasure” he said with further pleasures on his mind and then she asked
“Would you like to come in for coffee?”
“I would love to” he replied
And after coffee Michael did what he was actually invited in to do which was to liberate Lorraine from her expensive leggings and tug off her classy black knickers off her plump mature arse and too their mutual pleasure gave her a proper Sunday service in her deceased husband favourite chair.
Friday, 24 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (010) Molly’s Folly
(Part 01)
Molly Curtis was 5ft 6 with shoulder length blond hair and was a popular nurse at the Winston Churchill Hospital in Abbottsford and the general consensus among doctors and nurses alike was that she had a nice arse, great legs and very decent tits.
Also on the staff at the Churchill was another blond nurse, more timid and less popular, who was her on/off girlfriend Samantha Elliott, who was a slightly plumper version of her lover.
When they first met, Sam thought she had found the one, and fell instantly in love, but for Molly it was different, she didn’t fall in love, she never had, for Molly it was all about the sex.
The other difference between them was that Sam was a lesbian, a woman only lesbian, she only went that way, she had never had a man, she had never been interested in a man, whereas Molly was cut from very different cloth and swung both ways and as often as possible, she loved cock and cunny in equal measure.
But even with Molly’s wandering eye they always seemed to end up back together, Samantha for the love and Molly for the lust.
One of her regular lapses to the other side was with her rich cousin Paul Barker who was a renowned womaniser who had a big house in the village of Clarence a mile or so from Purplemere.
It was a mutually gratifying relationship as Paul put it about every bit as much as she did.
Molly had suggested to Sam that a weekend away would be nice, a change of scenery which could only help their relationship, although that wasn’t all that Molly was planning.
She proposed a surprise visit to her cousin’s house on the pretence of using it as a base for a weekend in the Vale, Samantha however saw through this ruse immediately and refused to go.
“You only want to go to Paul’s so you can have unnatural relations with him” she said
“That’s not the reason at all babe” Molly said, “The thought never crossed my mind, honestly”
A long protracted argument ensued and ended with Samantha saying
“You have to promise you won’t have sex with Paul, or I’m not coming”
“Nor am I by the sounds of it” Molly thought to herself
“Ok I promise” she lied
“Cross you heart” Sam insisted
“What?” Molly said “how old you?”
“Just do it” she said
“Alright” she said and made the gesture “Cross my heart”
On the journey down from Abbottsford, Molly was in reflective mood as she mulled over in her mind the different scenarios that might lead to her getting what she wanted from her kissing cousin without Sam finding out.
However when they got to Clarence they found Paul’s house in complete darkness and no sign at all of Paul himself.
The reason for his absence on their arrival was that at that precise moment he was a mile and a half away in a bus shelter snogging a large breasted member of the darts team by the name of Brenda, after a drunken evening in the Rose and Crown.
(Part 02)
When Molly and Samantha arrived at her Cousins house he was a mile and a half away in a bus shelter snogging a large breasted member of the darts team by the name of Brenda, after a drunken evening in the Rose and Crown.
However a snog was all he got from her and he had a long walk home with lover’s balls.
But it appeared to all intents and purposes that Molly Curtis was going to get even less than that from him.
When Paul did finally arrive home nursing his aching balls, he was surprised and pleased to see Molly’s car parked outside the house, he put his hand on the bonnet and it was still barely warm to the touch so he figured it must have been there for a while.
His first thought was to go and find his kissing cousin and she how hot her engine was and ease the ache in his lover’s balls.
The house was in complete darkness so he assumed Molly had already turned in but he knew precisely how to wake her up and what with.
But before he went upstairs to give Molly a thorough wakening he went into the lounge to take his shoes off. But due to a combination of excessive alcohol, the long walk home from his ball aching snog with Brenda, and a ridiculous number of late nights, which had clearly taken their toll on him so when he sat down on the sofa so he promptly fell asleep and woke up in the same place 6 hours later.
When he did wake up he still had the vivid images in his mind of naked lady darts players performing every conceivable sexual act on him and as a result of his sensual dreaming he was sporting a spectacular early riser.
His dawn horn wasn’t the only stiffness he felt when he rose from the sofa but he thought a long hot bath later in the day would sort that out and he had other plans to ease his other stiffness.
But before he went to surprise Molly, Paul stood in the downstairs bathroom trying to piss, not easily achieved with a significant boner, he found adopting the ski jumper stance was the most effective but by no means fool proof.
He thought he would have to mop that mess up later in the day.
Once he had finished he looked down at his erection
“So what are we going to do with you?” he said
The leading contender was of course Molly who was A) a nice comfortable shag, red hot and horny and B) in the house at that very moment, red hot and horny.
“She’ll do,” he said and quickly undressed, had a wash in the sink, cleaned his teeth, rinsed with mouthwash and squirted liberally with deodorant and then addressing his erection, said
“Now let’s go for a spot of borderline incest”
(Part 03)
He crept upstairs to the spare room and slipped into bed, Molly was lying on her side with her back to him so he cuddled up and spooned her.
“Mmmmm” she murmured as he nuzzled her neck and slid his hand round on to her breast.
As he toyed and teased her nipple he kissed her skin and breathed in her perfume, which was an unfamiliar fragrance.
He moved his hand swiftly down her belly and she parted her thighs in anticipation of his digits arrival.
“Mmmmm” she acquiesced as his fingers crept closer and closer and then were awash between her freshly waxed lips.
“Good old Moll” he thought always keen as mustard
It didn’t take much attention from his fingers to get her to the edge of the abyss and before very long she reached around and took hold of him and guided his erection roughly inside her and she buried her face in the pillow to supress the animal grunts that escaped her as he fully entered her.
Similar grunts followed on receipt of each subsequent penetration until she let out a deeper muffled grunt and she went rigid as she came a fraction sooner than he.
She relaxed and they lay still for a moment enjoying the afterglow until he patted her arse, kissed her shoulder and withdrew.
“I’ll see you later babe” he said
“Mmmmm” she murmured
Paul slipped out of bed and left the room, his manhood still wet from its outing and to his surprise he met Molly coming the other way, wrapped in a damp towel.
Paul did a double take, “how the hell did she get out of the room before me” he thought.
Molly didn’t speak at first, she just looked at Paul and then his wet semi hard cock, then at Paul again and then back to his shrivelling dick.
“You just fucked Samantha,” she said accusingly
“While I was taking a bath, you fucked Samantha” and then she laughed.
“I thought it was you,” he said in his defence
“You didn’t notice anything different?” Molly asked
“It wasn’t your usual perfume” he replied
“Really?” she said inquisitively “You noticed my perfume was different but you didn’t notice the fact I’d grown a huge arse”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say about your friend,” Paul said reproachfully
“She’s not my friend, she’s my girlfriend” Molly corrected him
“Ah” He uttered “I just thought you’d filled out a bit”
“Filled out a bit, filled out a bit,” she repeated disbelievingly
“How could you not tell I’d grown two dress sizes?”
She said and punched him on the arm but then she was laughing again
“Her arse is much bigger than mine” she reiterated and punched him again then she looked at his droopy cock again.
“Isn’t it?” She asked forcefully and Paul nodded
Molly disposed of her towel and displayed her wares in front of him, her amazing tits, flat belly and hairless pussy.
“Just to remind you what a tidy body looks like” Molly said and then she knelt down in front of him and took his greasy cock in her mouth and removed every last trace of Samantha from him and sucked him back to life, then she stood up and kissed him.
“Did you know that Samantha told me I couldn’t fuck you this weekend,” she said cocking a thumb in the direction of the spare room “And then she goes and gets fucked instead”
“Well, all bets are off now” she said as she gripped his shaft and led Paul like a bull to slaughter into his bedroom.
“Now it’s time for the real Molly Curtis to get some cock”
Molly Curtis was 5ft 6 with shoulder length blond hair and was a popular nurse at the Winston Churchill Hospital in Abbottsford and the general consensus among doctors and nurses alike was that she had a nice arse, great legs and very decent tits.
Also on the staff at the Churchill was another blond nurse, more timid and less popular, who was her on/off girlfriend Samantha Elliott, who was a slightly plumper version of her lover.
When they first met, Sam thought she had found the one, and fell instantly in love, but for Molly it was different, she didn’t fall in love, she never had, for Molly it was all about the sex.
The other difference between them was that Sam was a lesbian, a woman only lesbian, she only went that way, she had never had a man, she had never been interested in a man, whereas Molly was cut from very different cloth and swung both ways and as often as possible, she loved cock and cunny in equal measure.
But even with Molly’s wandering eye they always seemed to end up back together, Samantha for the love and Molly for the lust.
One of her regular lapses to the other side was with her rich cousin Paul Barker who was a renowned womaniser who had a big house in the village of Clarence a mile or so from Purplemere.
It was a mutually gratifying relationship as Paul put it about every bit as much as she did.
Molly had suggested to Sam that a weekend away would be nice, a change of scenery which could only help their relationship, although that wasn’t all that Molly was planning.
She proposed a surprise visit to her cousin’s house on the pretence of using it as a base for a weekend in the Vale, Samantha however saw through this ruse immediately and refused to go.
“You only want to go to Paul’s so you can have unnatural relations with him” she said
“That’s not the reason at all babe” Molly said, “The thought never crossed my mind, honestly”
A long protracted argument ensued and ended with Samantha saying
“You have to promise you won’t have sex with Paul, or I’m not coming”
“Nor am I by the sounds of it” Molly thought to herself
“Ok I promise” she lied
“Cross you heart” Sam insisted
“What?” Molly said “how old you?”
“Just do it” she said
“Alright” she said and made the gesture “Cross my heart”
On the journey down from Abbottsford, Molly was in reflective mood as she mulled over in her mind the different scenarios that might lead to her getting what she wanted from her kissing cousin without Sam finding out.
However when they got to Clarence they found Paul’s house in complete darkness and no sign at all of Paul himself.
The reason for his absence on their arrival was that at that precise moment he was a mile and a half away in a bus shelter snogging a large breasted member of the darts team by the name of Brenda, after a drunken evening in the Rose and Crown.
(Part 02)
When Molly and Samantha arrived at her Cousins house he was a mile and a half away in a bus shelter snogging a large breasted member of the darts team by the name of Brenda, after a drunken evening in the Rose and Crown.
However a snog was all he got from her and he had a long walk home with lover’s balls.
But it appeared to all intents and purposes that Molly Curtis was going to get even less than that from him.
When Paul did finally arrive home nursing his aching balls, he was surprised and pleased to see Molly’s car parked outside the house, he put his hand on the bonnet and it was still barely warm to the touch so he figured it must have been there for a while.
His first thought was to go and find his kissing cousin and she how hot her engine was and ease the ache in his lover’s balls.
The house was in complete darkness so he assumed Molly had already turned in but he knew precisely how to wake her up and what with.
But before he went upstairs to give Molly a thorough wakening he went into the lounge to take his shoes off. But due to a combination of excessive alcohol, the long walk home from his ball aching snog with Brenda, and a ridiculous number of late nights, which had clearly taken their toll on him so when he sat down on the sofa so he promptly fell asleep and woke up in the same place 6 hours later.
When he did wake up he still had the vivid images in his mind of naked lady darts players performing every conceivable sexual act on him and as a result of his sensual dreaming he was sporting a spectacular early riser.
His dawn horn wasn’t the only stiffness he felt when he rose from the sofa but he thought a long hot bath later in the day would sort that out and he had other plans to ease his other stiffness.
But before he went to surprise Molly, Paul stood in the downstairs bathroom trying to piss, not easily achieved with a significant boner, he found adopting the ski jumper stance was the most effective but by no means fool proof.
He thought he would have to mop that mess up later in the day.
Once he had finished he looked down at his erection
“So what are we going to do with you?” he said
The leading contender was of course Molly who was A) a nice comfortable shag, red hot and horny and B) in the house at that very moment, red hot and horny.
“She’ll do,” he said and quickly undressed, had a wash in the sink, cleaned his teeth, rinsed with mouthwash and squirted liberally with deodorant and then addressing his erection, said
“Now let’s go for a spot of borderline incest”
(Part 03)
He crept upstairs to the spare room and slipped into bed, Molly was lying on her side with her back to him so he cuddled up and spooned her.
“Mmmmm” she murmured as he nuzzled her neck and slid his hand round on to her breast.
As he toyed and teased her nipple he kissed her skin and breathed in her perfume, which was an unfamiliar fragrance.
He moved his hand swiftly down her belly and she parted her thighs in anticipation of his digits arrival.
“Mmmmm” she acquiesced as his fingers crept closer and closer and then were awash between her freshly waxed lips.
“Good old Moll” he thought always keen as mustard
It didn’t take much attention from his fingers to get her to the edge of the abyss and before very long she reached around and took hold of him and guided his erection roughly inside her and she buried her face in the pillow to supress the animal grunts that escaped her as he fully entered her.
Similar grunts followed on receipt of each subsequent penetration until she let out a deeper muffled grunt and she went rigid as she came a fraction sooner than he.
She relaxed and they lay still for a moment enjoying the afterglow until he patted her arse, kissed her shoulder and withdrew.
“I’ll see you later babe” he said
“Mmmmm” she murmured
Paul slipped out of bed and left the room, his manhood still wet from its outing and to his surprise he met Molly coming the other way, wrapped in a damp towel.
Paul did a double take, “how the hell did she get out of the room before me” he thought.
Molly didn’t speak at first, she just looked at Paul and then his wet semi hard cock, then at Paul again and then back to his shrivelling dick.
“You just fucked Samantha,” she said accusingly
“While I was taking a bath, you fucked Samantha” and then she laughed.
“I thought it was you,” he said in his defence
“You didn’t notice anything different?” Molly asked
“It wasn’t your usual perfume” he replied
“Really?” she said inquisitively “You noticed my perfume was different but you didn’t notice the fact I’d grown a huge arse”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say about your friend,” Paul said reproachfully
“She’s not my friend, she’s my girlfriend” Molly corrected him
“Ah” He uttered “I just thought you’d filled out a bit”
“Filled out a bit, filled out a bit,” she repeated disbelievingly
“How could you not tell I’d grown two dress sizes?”
She said and punched him on the arm but then she was laughing again
“Her arse is much bigger than mine” she reiterated and punched him again then she looked at his droopy cock again.
“Isn’t it?” She asked forcefully and Paul nodded
Molly disposed of her towel and displayed her wares in front of him, her amazing tits, flat belly and hairless pussy.
“Just to remind you what a tidy body looks like” Molly said and then she knelt down in front of him and took his greasy cock in her mouth and removed every last trace of Samantha from him and sucked him back to life, then she stood up and kissed him.
“Did you know that Samantha told me I couldn’t fuck you this weekend,” she said cocking a thumb in the direction of the spare room “And then she goes and gets fucked instead”
“Well, all bets are off now” she said as she gripped his shaft and led Paul like a bull to slaughter into his bedroom.
“Now it’s time for the real Molly Curtis to get some cock”
Thursday, 23 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (009) In Funereal Finery
One of the inevitable side effects of getting older is that you seem to attend more and more funerals with every passing year, which is ironically just part of life, but for me funerals have had a profoundly erotic effect upon me ever since the incident that occurred on the morning of my grandfather’s funeral in 1963 when I was just 13 years old.
We were all staying at my grandparent’s home in Childean and it was a full house so I took the chance amidst the hustle and bustle to sneak into my Aunt Julie’s bedroom while she was having a bath so I could go in her handbag and pinch a couple of cigarettes.
But she finished in the bathroom sooner than I anticipated, so not wishing to get in trouble for stealing I hid in the wardrobe instead.
I was hoping she had just forgotten something and wouldn’t be long and would return to the bathroom but she didn’t so I just waited and watched her.
She was sitting on the bed as she dried her long brown hair which was very boring and I thought about stepping out and confessing but then she stood up and I watched her as she turned her back to me and began drying her curvaceous body with a large bath sheet but she offered tantalizing glimpses of what was hidden from view and all of a sudden I was sporting a serious woody.
I carried on watching as my stork grew until the moment she turned around and threw the towel on the bed and I saw the first naked woman of my life.
My eyes were like saucers as they were drawn first to her great globular breasts, surmounted by erect pink teats and then down to the fluffy curly brown triangle and as I fidgeted in the closet I came in my pants.
Even after I’d shot my load it didn’t stop me looking at her as she began to dress, first she put on her black suspender belt around her narrow waist and then pulled on a pair of black silk French drawers.
Aunt Julie did each item deliciously slowly just as if she knew she was playing to an appreciative audience.
Next she sat on the bed and pulled on the first of her seamed black stocking up her long slender leg and as she leant forward to fasten the suspender her breasts hung voluptuously then at the same slow deliberate pace she repeated the process for the second stocking.
Aunt Julie stood up after fastening the second suspender and seemed to look straight at me and smiled before she harnessed her large round breasts in a black lacy construction.
And when she had finished fastening her bra I saw the image to which every woman would be subsequently compared for the rest of my life.
The addition of an under slip did not diminish my appreciation of her but when the dress went on I knew the show was over.
I had to continue to wait in the closet with sticky pants for another 25 minutes after she finished dressing while she applied her makeup and only when she finally went downstairs could I escape my hiding place and change my pants.
As I got to the door I looked back towards the wardrobe and I could see the reason I thought she was looking at me and smiling because next to the wardrobe door was a full-length mirror.
That day stamped a mark on me that has lasted a lifetime and now whenever I see a woman in Funereal Finery I get aroused.
Most of my sexual triumphs over the years have occurred as a result of meeting women at funerals.
At Aunt Julie’s wake under the pretence of consoling her I managed to seduce her daughter Elaine, of course the underwear was different, tights instead of Stockings, satin instead of silk a thong instead of French drawers.
But the contents were every inch the likeness of her mothers.
I suppose I should feel shame for what I’ve done, exploiting the vulnerable at their time of grief but I don’t and I even attend the funerals of people I don’t even know just to meet women.
We were all staying at my grandparent’s home in Childean and it was a full house so I took the chance amidst the hustle and bustle to sneak into my Aunt Julie’s bedroom while she was having a bath so I could go in her handbag and pinch a couple of cigarettes.
But she finished in the bathroom sooner than I anticipated, so not wishing to get in trouble for stealing I hid in the wardrobe instead.
I was hoping she had just forgotten something and wouldn’t be long and would return to the bathroom but she didn’t so I just waited and watched her.
She was sitting on the bed as she dried her long brown hair which was very boring and I thought about stepping out and confessing but then she stood up and I watched her as she turned her back to me and began drying her curvaceous body with a large bath sheet but she offered tantalizing glimpses of what was hidden from view and all of a sudden I was sporting a serious woody.
I carried on watching as my stork grew until the moment she turned around and threw the towel on the bed and I saw the first naked woman of my life.
My eyes were like saucers as they were drawn first to her great globular breasts, surmounted by erect pink teats and then down to the fluffy curly brown triangle and as I fidgeted in the closet I came in my pants.
Even after I’d shot my load it didn’t stop me looking at her as she began to dress, first she put on her black suspender belt around her narrow waist and then pulled on a pair of black silk French drawers.
Aunt Julie did each item deliciously slowly just as if she knew she was playing to an appreciative audience.
Next she sat on the bed and pulled on the first of her seamed black stocking up her long slender leg and as she leant forward to fasten the suspender her breasts hung voluptuously then at the same slow deliberate pace she repeated the process for the second stocking.
Aunt Julie stood up after fastening the second suspender and seemed to look straight at me and smiled before she harnessed her large round breasts in a black lacy construction.
And when she had finished fastening her bra I saw the image to which every woman would be subsequently compared for the rest of my life.
The addition of an under slip did not diminish my appreciation of her but when the dress went on I knew the show was over.
I had to continue to wait in the closet with sticky pants for another 25 minutes after she finished dressing while she applied her makeup and only when she finally went downstairs could I escape my hiding place and change my pants.
As I got to the door I looked back towards the wardrobe and I could see the reason I thought she was looking at me and smiling because next to the wardrobe door was a full-length mirror.
That day stamped a mark on me that has lasted a lifetime and now whenever I see a woman in Funereal Finery I get aroused.
Most of my sexual triumphs over the years have occurred as a result of meeting women at funerals.
At Aunt Julie’s wake under the pretence of consoling her I managed to seduce her daughter Elaine, of course the underwear was different, tights instead of Stockings, satin instead of silk a thong instead of French drawers.
But the contents were every inch the likeness of her mothers.
I suppose I should feel shame for what I’ve done, exploiting the vulnerable at their time of grief but I don’t and I even attend the funerals of people I don’t even know just to meet women.
Wednesday, 22 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (008) Just Being Neighbourly
(Part 01)
When it all began, Leon Watson lived in a detached house in Dulcet Green with his wife of 25 years, Mary.
Although in truth that was stretching a point, it wasn’t so much living, it would perhaps have been more accurately described as an existence.
That was because Leon and Mary lived completely separate lives, they had separate bedrooms and had totally different interests, and different circles of friends, and by that stage they might just as well have been strangers.
In fact Leon didn’t really know why they stayed together, laziness perhaps.
They had no children, no pets and not even a single friend in common and they only had sex on special occasions which in Leon’s opinion was the only special thing about it.
If they’d had an ounce of common sense between them they would have divorced long before they reached 25 years, but Mary believed marriage was a lifetime commitment or more precisely a life sentence.
That didn’t mean anything to him, what kept him in the marriage though was that although he had long since stopped loving his wife he really loved the house.
And what happened just before Easter would lead to something that would make Leon love the house even more.
It was when Leon’s next door neighbours, The Brown’s moved to Cheltenham, he was something in the foreign office and he was offered a two year secondment to GCHQ.
The Brown’s decided to rent the house out in the short term and then they would sell it later should the secondment end up becoming a permanent position.
So it was on a warm day in May when the new tenants moved in to the house next door.
The house had been rented by two elderly sisters, the Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s, who were retired colonial missionary types returning to Downshire after working for many years in China.
And in addition to the two old biddies they brought with them, a live in cook housekeeper who was a dowdy and frumpish looking woman of indeterminate age who by outward appearance could have been anything between 25 and 35 years old with mousy hair and functional spectacles.
Leon noticed them move in as he was working from home, which he did at least 3 days a week, more when he could get away with it, which he was able to do quite often because he was a freelance architect.
So it was due to his “working from home” that he got to see them move in and the reason he would eventually get to know the frump.
In truth although Leon worked from home he seldom spent more than a couple of hours a day actually working.
This less than productive work ethic enabled him to spend more time doing what he loved to do, reading, listening to music, watching films and making sure the gardeners did a proper job, in fact pretty much anything that wasn’t actually working.
He always got up early every morning and cracked on with his work early doors and achieved his modest goal by about 11.00, always keeping some in hand that he could do during the evening and therefore avoid having to speak to Mary any more than was necessary.
Finishing his work early also allowed him to make himself useful in a small way to the new neighbours, well to the frump in any case, which in truth mainly involved his sitting in the Brackhampton-Finch’s kitchen drinking the frump’s excellent coffee.
The frump’s real name was Pauline Boyle and she was an Australian girl who had started working for the Brackhampton-Finch’s when they lived in China.
When they announced their plans to return to England because Pauline was such a good housekeeper and such an excellent cook they asked her to move with them and even offered to pay her passage to the UK on the proviso that she remained with them for a minimum of two years.
As she had always wanted to travel to England so she accepted because she knew she would never be able to do it otherwise.
(Part 02)
Leon got on well with Pauline in the short time she had been his neighbour, chatting over the kitchen table drinking her excellent coffee, but not quite as well as he was about too.
The summer was well underway when one day after he had achieved his meagre work target he walked out into the garden and over the fence he saw Pauline dancing on the patio with a large glass of wine in her hand.
“Are you having a party?” he shouted over the fence on the hot June afternoon.
“Sort of” she replied “come and join me Leon”
“Ok” he said and walked around to the back gate
“So what’s the occasion?” he asked when he reached the patio and she poured him a glass of wine
“The Brackhampton-Finch’s have gone to Canterbury for an ecumenical council meeting” Pauline replied
She had clearly had more than the one glass of wine as she failed quite spectacularly to say ecumenical.
“And they’re clearly not coming back today” Leon said
“No” Pauline said “the day after tomorrow”
It was the first time he had seen Pauline so relaxed, but then he was well aware that an excess of alcohol will do that.
The Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s were very old fashioned and Pauline had to keep herself covered at all times with no hint of femininity visible or God forbid any hint of sexuality.
But to counteract this Pauline had a unique way of levelling the playing field so to speak which he was to find out about in due course.
However as the sisters were away which was why on that summer’s afternoon she was wearing a dress which showed off a figure that was hitherto unrecognised, unnoticed or even hinted at.
By late afternoon the combination of too much wine and too much sun found the two of them dancing on the patio to the dulcet tones of Barbara Streisand singing “The way we were”
But by the time Neil Diamond began to croon “Love on the rocks” Pauline was nibbling vigorously on his ear.
His immediate reaction was that he should nip it in the bud, he was a married man after all, albeit unhappily, and she was very much the worse for drink.
So he pulled his ear out of reach of her mouth and occupied it otherwise by kissing it which she reciprocated immediately in a wet slavery drink induced snog.
Leon knew it was wrong and he knew the right thing to do was to stop, but it was a hot day, he was merry, and very, very horny and as he hadn’t had any kind of sexual encounter with anywhere near that level of passion for more years than he could remember.
So instead of stopping proceedings he started fondling her not insubstantial breasts through the fabric of her dress which made her kissing even more wet and slavery.
“Stop now” he said to himself “while you still can, stop before you pass the point of no return”
But he didn’t listen and then he reached around her back and deftly pulled down the zipper on her dress instead.
In response she disengaged her mouth from his and let the dress fall to the floor to reveal some very unchristian underwear in red satin with black lace trim.
Then she began kissing him again even more fervently and so he immediately tried to undo her bra, but she stopped him abruptly.
“No” she shouted and Leon cursed himself for going too far too quickly.
”Not here” she said and then she took hold of his hand and led him through the French doors into the dining room.
Once inside she reached around her back and unhooked her bra herself and playfully threw it at his face.
“Now you can carry on” she said and he happily complied
Leon cupped her great white breasts and then pushed her backwards against the Brackhampton-Finch’s mahogany dining table.
He slid his hands up the backs of her thighs until he reached the fleshy cheeks of her buttocks, which he caressed and squeezed before he pulled her knickers off her cheeks and then he seated her on the table so he could completely remove her pants.
And no sooner had he slipped them off her ankles she was dragging his cock from his shorts.
She gave him a few encouraging tugs and then she lay back and let him penetrated her on the expensive mahogany dining table which he did with vigour until her hoarse scream rang out on the balmy June air.
(Part 03)
After he had sullied her on the Mahogany Dining table, they lay together in the afterglow on one of the Brackhampton-Finch sister’s many Chinese rugs and she told him how, to make up for her drab and dreary exterior she chose to wear very exotic underwear, the sexier or sluttier the better.
She also told him how when an elderly Bishop friend of the sisters was invited for afternoon tea, Pauline served it to his grace wearing stockings, suspenders and crotch less panties.
That was extraordinary behaviour for someone in a Christian household though as she was not a Christian herself it was not as bad.
They had another glass of wine as the lay on the rug in the dining room until she noticed that life was returning to his flaccid organ.
“Would you like to come to my room and look at my knicker collection?” she suggested “I think your friend does”
“If he’s interested then count me in” Leon replied
When they stood up she looked across at the dining table and laughed
“What’s so funny?” he asked
“That’s going to take some polishing” she replied pointing at the sticky patch of their joint contributions that looked like a giant snail trail.
Their next joint contributions were left on Paula’s bed linen.
Which was where he left Paula sleeping when he went home in time to have dinner with his darling wife.
As it turned out he needn’t have bothered because she called to say she was eating out and wouldn’t be back until late.
So he put a frozen dinner in the microwave and had a shower and a shave, then he ate his dinner in front of the TV and was back inside the Brackhampton-Finch’s ten minutes later and back inside Paula ten minutes after that.
That hot sensual June afternoon was the first of many sexual encounters between Leon and Pauline either in the Brackhampton-Finch’s house when they were out or at Leon’s when he was working at home and she had her days off.
They discussed at length how to employ a simple signalling system, to indicate their availability but after many and various suggestion they favoured the one where she would hang her scarlet satin knickers in her bedroom window to show that the coast was clear and she was ready for action.
But in the end she decided that a text would suffice along the lines of
“I’m horny come and fuck me”
The exact wording varied but that was the gist.
Paula felt no guilt for her wanton behaviour and Leon felt no guilt for that first day for what they did or any of the subsequent occasions, after all to his way of thinking he was just being neighbourly.
When it all began, Leon Watson lived in a detached house in Dulcet Green with his wife of 25 years, Mary.
Although in truth that was stretching a point, it wasn’t so much living, it would perhaps have been more accurately described as an existence.
That was because Leon and Mary lived completely separate lives, they had separate bedrooms and had totally different interests, and different circles of friends, and by that stage they might just as well have been strangers.
In fact Leon didn’t really know why they stayed together, laziness perhaps.
They had no children, no pets and not even a single friend in common and they only had sex on special occasions which in Leon’s opinion was the only special thing about it.
If they’d had an ounce of common sense between them they would have divorced long before they reached 25 years, but Mary believed marriage was a lifetime commitment or more precisely a life sentence.
That didn’t mean anything to him, what kept him in the marriage though was that although he had long since stopped loving his wife he really loved the house.
And what happened just before Easter would lead to something that would make Leon love the house even more.
It was when Leon’s next door neighbours, The Brown’s moved to Cheltenham, he was something in the foreign office and he was offered a two year secondment to GCHQ.
The Brown’s decided to rent the house out in the short term and then they would sell it later should the secondment end up becoming a permanent position.
So it was on a warm day in May when the new tenants moved in to the house next door.
The house had been rented by two elderly sisters, the Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s, who were retired colonial missionary types returning to Downshire after working for many years in China.
And in addition to the two old biddies they brought with them, a live in cook housekeeper who was a dowdy and frumpish looking woman of indeterminate age who by outward appearance could have been anything between 25 and 35 years old with mousy hair and functional spectacles.
Leon noticed them move in as he was working from home, which he did at least 3 days a week, more when he could get away with it, which he was able to do quite often because he was a freelance architect.
So it was due to his “working from home” that he got to see them move in and the reason he would eventually get to know the frump.
In truth although Leon worked from home he seldom spent more than a couple of hours a day actually working.
This less than productive work ethic enabled him to spend more time doing what he loved to do, reading, listening to music, watching films and making sure the gardeners did a proper job, in fact pretty much anything that wasn’t actually working.
He always got up early every morning and cracked on with his work early doors and achieved his modest goal by about 11.00, always keeping some in hand that he could do during the evening and therefore avoid having to speak to Mary any more than was necessary.
Finishing his work early also allowed him to make himself useful in a small way to the new neighbours, well to the frump in any case, which in truth mainly involved his sitting in the Brackhampton-Finch’s kitchen drinking the frump’s excellent coffee.
The frump’s real name was Pauline Boyle and she was an Australian girl who had started working for the Brackhampton-Finch’s when they lived in China.
When they announced their plans to return to England because Pauline was such a good housekeeper and such an excellent cook they asked her to move with them and even offered to pay her passage to the UK on the proviso that she remained with them for a minimum of two years.
As she had always wanted to travel to England so she accepted because she knew she would never be able to do it otherwise.
(Part 02)
Leon got on well with Pauline in the short time she had been his neighbour, chatting over the kitchen table drinking her excellent coffee, but not quite as well as he was about too.
The summer was well underway when one day after he had achieved his meagre work target he walked out into the garden and over the fence he saw Pauline dancing on the patio with a large glass of wine in her hand.
“Are you having a party?” he shouted over the fence on the hot June afternoon.
“Sort of” she replied “come and join me Leon”
“Ok” he said and walked around to the back gate
“So what’s the occasion?” he asked when he reached the patio and she poured him a glass of wine
“The Brackhampton-Finch’s have gone to Canterbury for an ecumenical council meeting” Pauline replied
She had clearly had more than the one glass of wine as she failed quite spectacularly to say ecumenical.
“And they’re clearly not coming back today” Leon said
“No” Pauline said “the day after tomorrow”
It was the first time he had seen Pauline so relaxed, but then he was well aware that an excess of alcohol will do that.
The Miss Brackhampton-Finch’s were very old fashioned and Pauline had to keep herself covered at all times with no hint of femininity visible or God forbid any hint of sexuality.
But to counteract this Pauline had a unique way of levelling the playing field so to speak which he was to find out about in due course.
However as the sisters were away which was why on that summer’s afternoon she was wearing a dress which showed off a figure that was hitherto unrecognised, unnoticed or even hinted at.
By late afternoon the combination of too much wine and too much sun found the two of them dancing on the patio to the dulcet tones of Barbara Streisand singing “The way we were”
But by the time Neil Diamond began to croon “Love on the rocks” Pauline was nibbling vigorously on his ear.
His immediate reaction was that he should nip it in the bud, he was a married man after all, albeit unhappily, and she was very much the worse for drink.
So he pulled his ear out of reach of her mouth and occupied it otherwise by kissing it which she reciprocated immediately in a wet slavery drink induced snog.
Leon knew it was wrong and he knew the right thing to do was to stop, but it was a hot day, he was merry, and very, very horny and as he hadn’t had any kind of sexual encounter with anywhere near that level of passion for more years than he could remember.
So instead of stopping proceedings he started fondling her not insubstantial breasts through the fabric of her dress which made her kissing even more wet and slavery.
“Stop now” he said to himself “while you still can, stop before you pass the point of no return”
But he didn’t listen and then he reached around her back and deftly pulled down the zipper on her dress instead.
In response she disengaged her mouth from his and let the dress fall to the floor to reveal some very unchristian underwear in red satin with black lace trim.
Then she began kissing him again even more fervently and so he immediately tried to undo her bra, but she stopped him abruptly.
“No” she shouted and Leon cursed himself for going too far too quickly.
”Not here” she said and then she took hold of his hand and led him through the French doors into the dining room.
Once inside she reached around her back and unhooked her bra herself and playfully threw it at his face.
“Now you can carry on” she said and he happily complied
Leon cupped her great white breasts and then pushed her backwards against the Brackhampton-Finch’s mahogany dining table.
He slid his hands up the backs of her thighs until he reached the fleshy cheeks of her buttocks, which he caressed and squeezed before he pulled her knickers off her cheeks and then he seated her on the table so he could completely remove her pants.
And no sooner had he slipped them off her ankles she was dragging his cock from his shorts.
She gave him a few encouraging tugs and then she lay back and let him penetrated her on the expensive mahogany dining table which he did with vigour until her hoarse scream rang out on the balmy June air.
(Part 03)
After he had sullied her on the Mahogany Dining table, they lay together in the afterglow on one of the Brackhampton-Finch sister’s many Chinese rugs and she told him how, to make up for her drab and dreary exterior she chose to wear very exotic underwear, the sexier or sluttier the better.
She also told him how when an elderly Bishop friend of the sisters was invited for afternoon tea, Pauline served it to his grace wearing stockings, suspenders and crotch less panties.
That was extraordinary behaviour for someone in a Christian household though as she was not a Christian herself it was not as bad.
They had another glass of wine as the lay on the rug in the dining room until she noticed that life was returning to his flaccid organ.
“Would you like to come to my room and look at my knicker collection?” she suggested “I think your friend does”
“If he’s interested then count me in” Leon replied
When they stood up she looked across at the dining table and laughed
“What’s so funny?” he asked
“That’s going to take some polishing” she replied pointing at the sticky patch of their joint contributions that looked like a giant snail trail.
Their next joint contributions were left on Paula’s bed linen.
Which was where he left Paula sleeping when he went home in time to have dinner with his darling wife.
As it turned out he needn’t have bothered because she called to say she was eating out and wouldn’t be back until late.
So he put a frozen dinner in the microwave and had a shower and a shave, then he ate his dinner in front of the TV and was back inside the Brackhampton-Finch’s ten minutes later and back inside Paula ten minutes after that.
That hot sensual June afternoon was the first of many sexual encounters between Leon and Pauline either in the Brackhampton-Finch’s house when they were out or at Leon’s when he was working at home and she had her days off.
They discussed at length how to employ a simple signalling system, to indicate their availability but after many and various suggestion they favoured the one where she would hang her scarlet satin knickers in her bedroom window to show that the coast was clear and she was ready for action.
But in the end she decided that a text would suffice along the lines of
“I’m horny come and fuck me”
The exact wording varied but that was the gist.
Paula felt no guilt for her wanton behaviour and Leon felt no guilt for that first day for what they did or any of the subsequent occasions, after all to his way of thinking he was just being neighbourly.
Tuesday, 21 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (007) The Mysterious Case of the Bottle Blonde
(Part 01)
Emma Chambers was what would once have been called a bottle blonde, she was also a three time divorcee and one time widow and she was just the wrong side of fifty, but despite her age she filled a sweater very well indeed and her well-shaped arse was tailor made for tight jeans which she rarely failed to occupy to maximum effect and managed to please any man with a connoisseur’s eye.
One such man was Mark Aldridge who found her form very pleasing to his lecherous eye and in addition to her obvious assets she also had the added attraction of an all pervading sensuous musky perfume which when he got in close proximity to her he found extremely arousing.
Emma was a close friend of Mark’s wife Sue, and it was because of Emma that the Aldridge’s and she were at Clayton Manor for the murder mystery weekend in the first place for Sue’s birthday treat.
The Clayton Manor Hotel was situated in the village of Clayton tucked away in the North East corner of the Finchbottom Vale.
It was once the home a wealthy Downshire family but like so many similar great houses in the county it fell into disuse as the fortunes of the owners suffered after the Great War.
It had had many reincarnations since then and had been used for many things over the years but it wasn’t until the 80s that it became The Clayton Manor Hotel.
But things had got tough in the hotel trade with the success of Travelodge, Premier Inn and Holiday Inn Express and so places like the Clayton Manor needed to offer something extra to attract the guests.
So they put on novelty weekends, one of which was the Murder Mystery weekend.
It was something that appealed very much to Sue and she was really looking forward to it, and so was Emma.
It wasn’t Mark’s cup of tea and even if it was up his street it was far too rich for his blood which was why the merry widow stumped up the cash.
He and Sue had known Emma for some time and they often went on trips and outings together.
It suited him very well as the women entertained each other leaving him free to entertain himself, usually on the Golf course and of course he got to enjoy the spectacular view of Emma’s rolling hills.
On these outings he was often preoccupied with his ponderings over whether the contents of Emma’s sweater were real or manmade and what her natural hair colour was.
He was certain of one thing however and that was that the hair on her muff wouldn’t be bottle blonde.
On Saturday morning Mark’s lascivious gaze was rewarded firstly by following on behind her exquisitely tailored arse all the way from their rooms to the dining room and then a long lingering view down her low cut top at her spectacular breasts.
As the three of them spent most of the morning together he had many more opportunities to ogle his wife’s friend and the memory of the prolonged view of her tits and arse severely affected his game as he spent the afternoon on the golf course.
On the Saturday night Mark had to endure the Murder Mystery and was rather bored, fortunately he was rescued from the boredom by Emma who had far too much to drink and was forced to retire early.
However Sue was enjoying the entertainment far too much and didn’t want to miss the conclusion to the mystery so it was left to Mark to help the drunken Emma up to her room.
(Part 02)
All weekend Mark had taken every opportunity to enjoy the view of her abundant goodies as she had been wearing a selection of figure hugging outfits as well as her customary jeans and sweaters but as he guided her along the corridor to her room on Saturday night she was wearing a dress and as he struggled with her through the fire doors there was every chance she might fall out of it.
“Here’s hoping” he thought to himself
When they reached Emma’s room he had to prop her up against the wall.
“Just stand there” he said and then used her key card to open the door.
Once he got her through the door into the room however she suddenly regained her senses and pounced on him, taking him completely by surprise and knocking him backwards onto the bed.
As he lay on the bed like an upturned turtle desperately trying to get back to his feet he looked up at her and she gave him a leery smile before jumping on the bed and straddling him.
“What’s going on?” Mark asked “you can’t do this”
“Stop complaining” Emma ordered “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think nobodies looking”
And she planted a wet alcohol tasting kiss on his mouth which silenced his protests and as her eager tongue poked and probed around his mouth he grabbed her ample arse with both hands and as he groped and needed her fleshy cheeks he thought they felt as good as they looked.
This action Emma took as a sign of submission to her assault so she sat up and unzipped the back of her dress and said
“These are what you’ve been waiting to see”
And then she let the front of her dress fall away to expose her white globular breasts which caused his hands to switch their alliance from buttocks to breasts.
Her mouth returned to his and her serpent like tongue went to work as he teased and toyed with her nipple.
And while her tongue was busy in her mouth her hands busied themselves releasing his he swollen cock from his trousers.
Mission accomplished she climbed off him and wriggled free from her dress and as she stood beside the bed wearing only a pair of black knickers she looked at him with a lustful leer and divested herself of her drawers as well, and then she remounted Mark, only this time she slid her hot eager pussy down his waiting shaft.
As he redressed, he looked down at Emma’s smiling panting body lying naked in her disgrace when she let out a satisfied sigh.
As Mark reached the door he turned to look back at her and he knew she had been no drunker than he was but he was glad he had to escort her to her room.
“I think I’m going to have a headache in the morning”
She said
“And I think I will have just the medicine for you”
He replied and left the room and as he did he knew the contents of Emma’s sweater were indeed all hers and that she was naturally brunette.
When Mark got back to the drawing room he found Sue sitting and talking to one of the actors and when they had finished Sue asked.
“Have you seen to her?”
“Yes dear” He replied “you can definitely consider her seen to”
“Thanks darling” she said and kissed his cheek. “You’re such a good husband”
“Well I know she’s a good friend Sue” he said “but I wasn’t going to let her to spoil your birthday”
“I love you Mark” she said and kissed him again
“Well let’s just make sure she remains a friend” he said to himself “because I want to be a frequent flyer on the Emma Chambers passion express”
Emma Chambers was what would once have been called a bottle blonde, she was also a three time divorcee and one time widow and she was just the wrong side of fifty, but despite her age she filled a sweater very well indeed and her well-shaped arse was tailor made for tight jeans which she rarely failed to occupy to maximum effect and managed to please any man with a connoisseur’s eye.
One such man was Mark Aldridge who found her form very pleasing to his lecherous eye and in addition to her obvious assets she also had the added attraction of an all pervading sensuous musky perfume which when he got in close proximity to her he found extremely arousing.
Emma was a close friend of Mark’s wife Sue, and it was because of Emma that the Aldridge’s and she were at Clayton Manor for the murder mystery weekend in the first place for Sue’s birthday treat.
The Clayton Manor Hotel was situated in the village of Clayton tucked away in the North East corner of the Finchbottom Vale.
It was once the home a wealthy Downshire family but like so many similar great houses in the county it fell into disuse as the fortunes of the owners suffered after the Great War.
It had had many reincarnations since then and had been used for many things over the years but it wasn’t until the 80s that it became The Clayton Manor Hotel.
But things had got tough in the hotel trade with the success of Travelodge, Premier Inn and Holiday Inn Express and so places like the Clayton Manor needed to offer something extra to attract the guests.
So they put on novelty weekends, one of which was the Murder Mystery weekend.
It was something that appealed very much to Sue and she was really looking forward to it, and so was Emma.
It wasn’t Mark’s cup of tea and even if it was up his street it was far too rich for his blood which was why the merry widow stumped up the cash.
He and Sue had known Emma for some time and they often went on trips and outings together.
It suited him very well as the women entertained each other leaving him free to entertain himself, usually on the Golf course and of course he got to enjoy the spectacular view of Emma’s rolling hills.
On these outings he was often preoccupied with his ponderings over whether the contents of Emma’s sweater were real or manmade and what her natural hair colour was.
He was certain of one thing however and that was that the hair on her muff wouldn’t be bottle blonde.
On Saturday morning Mark’s lascivious gaze was rewarded firstly by following on behind her exquisitely tailored arse all the way from their rooms to the dining room and then a long lingering view down her low cut top at her spectacular breasts.
As the three of them spent most of the morning together he had many more opportunities to ogle his wife’s friend and the memory of the prolonged view of her tits and arse severely affected his game as he spent the afternoon on the golf course.
On the Saturday night Mark had to endure the Murder Mystery and was rather bored, fortunately he was rescued from the boredom by Emma who had far too much to drink and was forced to retire early.
However Sue was enjoying the entertainment far too much and didn’t want to miss the conclusion to the mystery so it was left to Mark to help the drunken Emma up to her room.
(Part 02)
All weekend Mark had taken every opportunity to enjoy the view of her abundant goodies as she had been wearing a selection of figure hugging outfits as well as her customary jeans and sweaters but as he guided her along the corridor to her room on Saturday night she was wearing a dress and as he struggled with her through the fire doors there was every chance she might fall out of it.
“Here’s hoping” he thought to himself
When they reached Emma’s room he had to prop her up against the wall.
“Just stand there” he said and then used her key card to open the door.
Once he got her through the door into the room however she suddenly regained her senses and pounced on him, taking him completely by surprise and knocking him backwards onto the bed.
As he lay on the bed like an upturned turtle desperately trying to get back to his feet he looked up at her and she gave him a leery smile before jumping on the bed and straddling him.
“What’s going on?” Mark asked “you can’t do this”
“Stop complaining” Emma ordered “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think nobodies looking”
And she planted a wet alcohol tasting kiss on his mouth which silenced his protests and as her eager tongue poked and probed around his mouth he grabbed her ample arse with both hands and as he groped and needed her fleshy cheeks he thought they felt as good as they looked.
This action Emma took as a sign of submission to her assault so she sat up and unzipped the back of her dress and said
“These are what you’ve been waiting to see”
And then she let the front of her dress fall away to expose her white globular breasts which caused his hands to switch their alliance from buttocks to breasts.
Her mouth returned to his and her serpent like tongue went to work as he teased and toyed with her nipple.
And while her tongue was busy in her mouth her hands busied themselves releasing his he swollen cock from his trousers.
Mission accomplished she climbed off him and wriggled free from her dress and as she stood beside the bed wearing only a pair of black knickers she looked at him with a lustful leer and divested herself of her drawers as well, and then she remounted Mark, only this time she slid her hot eager pussy down his waiting shaft.
As he redressed, he looked down at Emma’s smiling panting body lying naked in her disgrace when she let out a satisfied sigh.
As Mark reached the door he turned to look back at her and he knew she had been no drunker than he was but he was glad he had to escort her to her room.
“I think I’m going to have a headache in the morning”
She said
“And I think I will have just the medicine for you”
He replied and left the room and as he did he knew the contents of Emma’s sweater were indeed all hers and that she was naturally brunette.
When Mark got back to the drawing room he found Sue sitting and talking to one of the actors and when they had finished Sue asked.
“Have you seen to her?”
“Yes dear” He replied “you can definitely consider her seen to”
“Thanks darling” she said and kissed his cheek. “You’re such a good husband”
“Well I know she’s a good friend Sue” he said “but I wasn’t going to let her to spoil your birthday”
“I love you Mark” she said and kissed him again
“Well let’s just make sure she remains a friend” he said to himself “because I want to be a frequent flyer on the Emma Chambers passion express”
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