Emanuela Petrescu and Catarina Langella lived together in a two bedroom flat above a parade of shops in Childean and apart from the fact they were both 27 years old and female they had absolutely nothing in common at all.
Emanuela was Romanian and was a doctor at the Winston Churchil Hospital and Caterina was Italian and was a hairdresser at Mazzone’s in the parade of shops she lived above.
They liked different food, listened to different music and wore different clothes.
The flat was owned by Mazzone’s and Caterina and another girl from the shop, Isabella, split the rent but when Izzy got married it left Cat in a hole, so she put an advert in the Chronicle and Ema was the only applicant and apart from the fact they were complete opposites they had lived together for 18 months and it had worked out perfectly.
Ema was tall and slender with brown hair and dark eyes and she made Caterina cross because she didn’t make the best of what she had, she didn’t go overboard with makeup and wore clothes that she was comfortable in rather than what made her look good.
Caterina had less to work with, she was shorter, plainer and chubbier than her flatmate with mousy hair and a big nose but she always looked immaculate, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by Ema.
Not that Caterina was aware of that until the day after her birthday.
Emanuela had been on call at the Churchill on Cats birthday and had been out after work for a leaving party and as a result she had come home in a taxi slightly the worse for drink.
Caterina was in the bath when she returned and when she came out she was wearing a towelling bathrobe and a towel turban on her head.
On seeing her flatmate all freshly scrubbed and pink Emanuela immediately rushed towards her.
“Happy birthday draga mea” she said and threw her arms around Caterina exaggeratedly and hugged her
“Thanks Ema” she replied and hugged her back
Emanuela however didn’t release her grip on the little mousy Italian girl and in addition began nuzzling her neck.
Caterina felt a little awkward but didn’t really understand what she was doing, that is until she started chewing her earlobe.
“I don’t...” she began but in response Ema’s lips were over hers and her tongue immediately explored her flat mate’s mouth.
Caterina was shocked as she had never been kissed by a girl before and she certainly didn’t expect it from Ema and as far as she was aware she had given her no encouragement or indication that she was that way inclined, which she wasn’t.
But despite all of that Catarina still found her tongue was exploring Ema’s mouth with equal enthusiasm, and encouraged by her response Ema untied the belt on Catarina’s robe.
Cats mind was in a turmoil, she wanted to stop but she couldn’t, all of her life Sex had always left her cold, and unmoved with no heat or passion but after Ema had delivered Sappho’s kiss she was on fire.
She had always put down her indifference to the act to a low sex drive but as she and her flat mate embraced she wondered if in reality if she could have been driving in the wrong direction, was it conceivable that the secret of her sexuality was finally unlocked.
It was the first time she had felt such a kiss, the first time she’d felt that way in response to a kiss, but it had never occurred to her that she might be gay.
“Nonsense” she said in her head “I like George Clooney”
Yet her tongue still busied itself inside Ema’s mouth and her hands were inside Caterina’s robe and then those hands fondled her breasts and all thought of protestations were dispelled from her mind.
With a hand on each breast Emanuela pushed her back against the wall and withdrew her tongue from Catarina’s mouth and pulled her lips away, but Cat’s lips pursued Ema’s mouth like a hungry bird.
But Ema eluded her as her mouth had another goal and began kissing her freshly bathed skin, smelling of coconut, beginning at her neck with kisses as soft as a butterflies wings, down her chest, and then she kissed her breasts.
Caterina bit her lip in anticipation as Emanuela tongue was flicking around her nipples until that delicious moment when she took her pink proud nipple in her mouth and head was swimming and her legs trembled and when she felt Emanuelas hands on her naked buttocks they buckled and she slid down the wall.
Emanuela reluctantly relinquished her nipple and rolled her onto the floor and went to work on the other one.
Catarina layback with her eyes closed and her mouth open in anticipation of the moment she longed for and when she felt Emanuelas un-manicured fingers brushing lightly across her damp mousy bush she gasped and when those unfeminine fingers touched her intimate femininity in loves sweetest caress she emitted a moan akin to a purr and she finally knew her true self.
Wednesday, 29 March 2017
Tuesday, 28 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (014) An Innocent Voyeur
(Part 01)
It was a hot sultry summer afternoon in the village of Sharping St Mary, only a few miles from Purplemere, and only that morning 20 year old Caroline Danville had returned to her home from University.
Although she had actually left University a month earlier she had spent that month with her mother and stepfather in Bushy Down.
She was supposed to be there for another two days but her stepfather Graham had begun to get on her nerves, not that she disliked him or anything like that, he was harmless enough he was just a bit of a fusser and she didn’t like to be fussed over.
So Carrie, as she was known to everyone, had left early and was sitting in a quiet corner of the garden, in a shady and secluded spot.
She preferred the shade and couldn’t abide the sun, and it wasn’t overly fond of her.
She had pale ginger hair and fair delicate skin to accompany it, so she could either keep herself covered up or stay in the shade.
So she was laying on a picnic blanket in a bikini, hidden from view and lost in solitary thought.
Carrie had been out in the garden for a little under an hour when she noticed her stepmother Julie walk slowly across the lawn from the house, she liked Julie and she had liked her from the very beginning, she was younger than her dad but 15 years older than her and she had been her step mother for five years.
It was a very large garden with trees and shrubbery in abundance on three sides and a huge lawn in the centre where Julie spread out her blanket.
The garden being very private, and with her husband away on business and Carrie not due back until the weekend, Julie thought she was alone.
Carrie was about to shout “hello” but stopped herself when Julie slipped off her dress to stand naked on the lawn, with arms stretched above her head like a goddess and then she pirouetted like a ballerina, showing her magnificent well-toned and well-tanned body to the birds and the bee’s in her secluded surroundings.
Julie was a tall willowy woman with long legs and lithe limbs, her perfectly proportioned breasts moved delightfully as she continued to dance, celebrating her nakedness and offering herself to the sun.
Julie suddenly stopped her homage to Terpsichore and laughed as she ran her finger through her vibrant brunette hair, then she lay down on the blanket.
Carrie was again about to speak and make her presence known, but found herself unable, or unwilling, she was mesmerized by the tableaux that lay before her, and she found herself a little aroused.
Which surprised her greatly, not being so inclined, not being of that persuasion, not being a disciple of Sappho.
“What harm can it do?” she thought to herself, to look on with no fear of discovery.
Carrie was a reluctant voyeur but the opportunity presented itself and so she took it.
Where, was the harm in watching a beautiful woman sunbathe naked, it didn’t mean anything.
But then Julie started to touch and caress her nakedness.
(Part 02)
Julie started to touch and caress her nakedness, first her breasts, which caused Carrie to look away slightly embarrassed but her curiosity drew her back and her arousal heightened as she saw Julie’s long elegant fingers comb through her lush pubic curls and descend between her lips.
Carrie watched Julie’s busy fingers, spellbound and her arousal grew deeper with each stroke of her stepmother’s slender digits.
Carrie was so engaged by Julie’s erotic tableaux that she found her own fingers rubbing her own pussy through her bikini and when Julie’s body arched in climax Carrie let out an involuntary yet audible squeal.
Julie glanced over in her direction and their eyes met and Julie smiled while Carrie blushed.
Julie sat up and beckoned to Carrie in a wordless invitation to join her.
Carrie arose from her place of hiding and her legs felt weak as she walked tentatively to join her step mum and Julie was standing by the time Carrie reached her.
She was about to speak, to apologize for spying on her, for intruding on her privacy and for enjoying her intimacy, but Julie put a finger to Carrie’s lips to silence her, and Carrie could smell Julie’s musk upon it.
Julie’s hand then caressed Carries cheek and ran her slender fingers through Carrie’s fine Reddish Blonde hair and pulled her head towards her, and kissed her.
Carrie had never been kissed by a woman before and her first thought was to back away, but she couldn’t move, so as Julie’s lips grew closer she opened her mouth and received her step mothers tongue and for the first time Carrie enjoyed Sappho’s sweet kiss.
It was a kiss like no other kiss she had ever had, her boyfriend David never kissed her like that, and he had never made her knees go weak.
There were still no words between them only smiles when the kiss ended and Carrie offered no resistance when Julie removed her bikini top, exposing her pert little breasts and stiff pink nipples, nor did she flinch as Julie’s hands untied the strings of her bikini pants.
Julie took the garment in her hand and the moisture in the fabric and held it to her nose and inhaled Carrie’s sour scent.
Carrie looked to the ground and felt herself blush from head to toe which made Julie smile.
She dropped Carrie’s wet musky pants on the ground and then took hold of her hands and guided her onto the blanket.
“I’m not a lesbian” Carrie said
“Neither am I sweetie” she replied as she laid Carrie down on the rug where she kissed her.
First on the mouth hot and heavy then gentler on her neck, her chest, her breasts.
Julie dwelt upon her breasts and sucked slowly and deliberately on her swollen little nipples as Carrie was lying with her hand on her head and her eyes shut tight as the electricity of each of Julie’s kisses tingled through her young body.
Julie left Carrie’s stiff saliva soaked nipples and proceeded to kiss her way down to her quivering belly pausing only to flick her tongue into her navel which made her jump.
For the rest of Julie’s journey Carrie’s hands grabbed fistfuls of blanket and her tight young arse squirmed as she anticipated Julie’s ultimate destination.
And as Julie’s cheek brushed against her ginger bush Carrie parted her thighs so she could enjoy Sappho’s most intimate embrace.
It was a hot sultry summer afternoon in the village of Sharping St Mary, only a few miles from Purplemere, and only that morning 20 year old Caroline Danville had returned to her home from University.
Although she had actually left University a month earlier she had spent that month with her mother and stepfather in Bushy Down.
She was supposed to be there for another two days but her stepfather Graham had begun to get on her nerves, not that she disliked him or anything like that, he was harmless enough he was just a bit of a fusser and she didn’t like to be fussed over.
So Carrie, as she was known to everyone, had left early and was sitting in a quiet corner of the garden, in a shady and secluded spot.
She preferred the shade and couldn’t abide the sun, and it wasn’t overly fond of her.
She had pale ginger hair and fair delicate skin to accompany it, so she could either keep herself covered up or stay in the shade.
So she was laying on a picnic blanket in a bikini, hidden from view and lost in solitary thought.
Carrie had been out in the garden for a little under an hour when she noticed her stepmother Julie walk slowly across the lawn from the house, she liked Julie and she had liked her from the very beginning, she was younger than her dad but 15 years older than her and she had been her step mother for five years.
It was a very large garden with trees and shrubbery in abundance on three sides and a huge lawn in the centre where Julie spread out her blanket.
The garden being very private, and with her husband away on business and Carrie not due back until the weekend, Julie thought she was alone.
Carrie was about to shout “hello” but stopped herself when Julie slipped off her dress to stand naked on the lawn, with arms stretched above her head like a goddess and then she pirouetted like a ballerina, showing her magnificent well-toned and well-tanned body to the birds and the bee’s in her secluded surroundings.
Julie was a tall willowy woman with long legs and lithe limbs, her perfectly proportioned breasts moved delightfully as she continued to dance, celebrating her nakedness and offering herself to the sun.
Julie suddenly stopped her homage to Terpsichore and laughed as she ran her finger through her vibrant brunette hair, then she lay down on the blanket.
Carrie was again about to speak and make her presence known, but found herself unable, or unwilling, she was mesmerized by the tableaux that lay before her, and she found herself a little aroused.
Which surprised her greatly, not being so inclined, not being of that persuasion, not being a disciple of Sappho.
“What harm can it do?” she thought to herself, to look on with no fear of discovery.
Carrie was a reluctant voyeur but the opportunity presented itself and so she took it.
Where, was the harm in watching a beautiful woman sunbathe naked, it didn’t mean anything.
But then Julie started to touch and caress her nakedness.
(Part 02)
Julie started to touch and caress her nakedness, first her breasts, which caused Carrie to look away slightly embarrassed but her curiosity drew her back and her arousal heightened as she saw Julie’s long elegant fingers comb through her lush pubic curls and descend between her lips.
Carrie watched Julie’s busy fingers, spellbound and her arousal grew deeper with each stroke of her stepmother’s slender digits.
Carrie was so engaged by Julie’s erotic tableaux that she found her own fingers rubbing her own pussy through her bikini and when Julie’s body arched in climax Carrie let out an involuntary yet audible squeal.
Julie glanced over in her direction and their eyes met and Julie smiled while Carrie blushed.
Julie sat up and beckoned to Carrie in a wordless invitation to join her.
Carrie arose from her place of hiding and her legs felt weak as she walked tentatively to join her step mum and Julie was standing by the time Carrie reached her.
She was about to speak, to apologize for spying on her, for intruding on her privacy and for enjoying her intimacy, but Julie put a finger to Carrie’s lips to silence her, and Carrie could smell Julie’s musk upon it.
Julie’s hand then caressed Carries cheek and ran her slender fingers through Carrie’s fine Reddish Blonde hair and pulled her head towards her, and kissed her.
Carrie had never been kissed by a woman before and her first thought was to back away, but she couldn’t move, so as Julie’s lips grew closer she opened her mouth and received her step mothers tongue and for the first time Carrie enjoyed Sappho’s sweet kiss.
It was a kiss like no other kiss she had ever had, her boyfriend David never kissed her like that, and he had never made her knees go weak.
There were still no words between them only smiles when the kiss ended and Carrie offered no resistance when Julie removed her bikini top, exposing her pert little breasts and stiff pink nipples, nor did she flinch as Julie’s hands untied the strings of her bikini pants.
Julie took the garment in her hand and the moisture in the fabric and held it to her nose and inhaled Carrie’s sour scent.
Carrie looked to the ground and felt herself blush from head to toe which made Julie smile.
She dropped Carrie’s wet musky pants on the ground and then took hold of her hands and guided her onto the blanket.
“I’m not a lesbian” Carrie said
“Neither am I sweetie” she replied as she laid Carrie down on the rug where she kissed her.
First on the mouth hot and heavy then gentler on her neck, her chest, her breasts.
Julie dwelt upon her breasts and sucked slowly and deliberately on her swollen little nipples as Carrie was lying with her hand on her head and her eyes shut tight as the electricity of each of Julie’s kisses tingled through her young body.
Julie left Carrie’s stiff saliva soaked nipples and proceeded to kiss her way down to her quivering belly pausing only to flick her tongue into her navel which made her jump.
For the rest of Julie’s journey Carrie’s hands grabbed fistfuls of blanket and her tight young arse squirmed as she anticipated Julie’s ultimate destination.
And as Julie’s cheek brushed against her ginger bush Carrie parted her thighs so she could enjoy Sappho’s most intimate embrace.
Monday, 27 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (013) A Man to be Trusted
(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”.
“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”.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)