(Part 01)
Professor Robert Shadwell was a dry and crusty academic who was Professor of History at Abbottsford University.
He was in his fiftieth year and was considered by everyone who knew him to be as dull as ditch water and capable of talking about nothing but his subject, in detail and at length.
But no one was ever as they seemed and he was no exception.
He lived in the hamlet of Dulcet Meadow, in a 19th Century Farmhouse which was his bolt hole, his escape from the academic world where he could enjoy his well-appointed library and his well upholstered house keeper Mary Lucas.
He would spend four days a week in Abbottsford where he would spend the majority of his time in his rooms reading and looking forward to getting back to the arms of the voluptuous Mary.
She was ten years younger than her employer and had been his house keeper for 10 years and his lover for 5.
It began on his 45th birthday when he had too much wine and he kissed her, and she kissed him back.
Mary was a single parent, her daughter Joanna was now studying medicine in Edinburgh.
At first they snatched moments here and there, when they found themselves alone, when Joanna was at school, at a friends or working, but in the two years since she went off to Edinburgh they had enjoyed each other whenever and wherever they wanted, and they really wanted to a lot.
So when all his lectures were cancelled for the day he took the opportunity to get home to Dulcet Meadow and spend the day in the loving arms and ample bosom of his Mary.
But when he phoned her from the car he found out she was in Northchapel visiting her sister who had broken her leg.
He found it hard to hide his disappointment and she promised not to be late back.
By the time he reached Dulcet Meadow it was early afternoon and the sun which had burnt off the early cloud had steadily grown in strength since.
He parked the car on the drive and was surprised to find a green Renault Clio already there, he knew it wasn’t Johanna’s, but he had no idea whose it was.
The other thing he notice was that the French doors were open to the Morning Room, so called as it was the room that got the morning sun, but he used it as his Study.
He walked towards the open doors and as he was horny and frustrated he was about to burst in and chastise whoever it was that had violated his inner sanctum.
But as he got closer he noticed that although the doors were open the curtains were not and he could hear the intruder murmuring inside.
(Part 02)
So instead of entering the Morning room from the garden he chose to peer through the gap between the curtains and he spied a scene which gave the Professor an instant hard on.
His housekeeper's daughter, Johanna, was sitting in his favourite leather chair.
He loved that chair with its faded and cracked Brown Leather, which was well stuffed and comfortable.
But at that moment he loved it even more as completely unaware of his presence behind the curtains, Johanna sat completely naked, her clothes discarded nearby on the floor and one leg draped over the arm of the chair as she happily pleasured herself.
Her eyes were closed and thinking she was quite alone she fingered herself without a care.
He was very aroused as she wriggled and writhed as she extracted moan after delicious moan from her endeavours as her fingers worked eagerly between her lips at her moist pink flesh.
The professor had discarded his trousers and boxers and had his cock in hand as he stepped silently into the room.
He began tugging on his engorged organ as he stood before her and then she opened her eyes and gasped in surprise.
But she had eyes only for the hand pulling on his rise and she matched the rhythm of her fingering to his masturbation until she motioned to him to come closer to her in the chair.
Still tugging on his organ he approached her and with her free hand she grabbed his erection and pulled it to her mouth.
With one hand he braced himself on the back of the chair while the other one caressed her brown hair.
Suddenly her thighs drew together as she came and as she squirmed in the chair and the moan died in her throat she continued to suck on him.
Johanna suddenly released his cock and jumped up and knelt in the chair and gripped the leather back and presented her moist minge to him.
He stood behind her and fondled her plump white buttocks kneading them like bread dough then he knelt down to lick her moist cunny
"I want you in me now" Johanna snapped
"Don't worry" he replied, "I just want a taste"
“Professor please” she begged so he stood up and put a hand on each cheek, caressing her gently before penetrating her.
Johanna released a fruity chuckle as he slid inside her and his hands played with her breasts as he thrust into her tight young pussy again and again.
He fondled and squeezed her little tits right up to the moment her fit taught young body gave a shudder as she came and he followed.
He withdrew from her cunny and she collapsed into the chair and curled up in the corner panting and smiling.
He walked to the French doors and closed them in but when he turned around she had grabbed up all her clothes and was looking coy and beguiling.
“You won’t be needing them” he said thinking that if she didn’t want to go again he would at least have her mother.
“Unless you don’t want to do it again” He added as he opened the door into the hall.
Johanna had dumped her clothes and pushed past him and ran giggling up the stairs.
“They wouldn’t call me dull if they knew I’d been inside that” he said to himself, they would have been impressed enough to know he was shagging her mother but bedding mother and daughter would have shown him in a very different light altogether and would have earned him celebrity status.
Monday, 3 April 2017
Sunday, 2 April 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (019) A Rosie Memory
Kevin Bush was a 16 year old callow youth born and raised in Lower Gracewood, a quiet and unexciting village near Finchbottom.
It was more than 20 years ago in the Vale and when he was still only 16 and he was invited to a house party at the home of the friend of a friend in Finchbottom.
He wasn’t going to go at first, house parties weren’t really his kind of thing, but he allowed himself to be persuaded and as it turned out he was glad that he had because that was when he first saw Rosie Byrne.
She was way out of his league of course he knew that right from the outset, Rosie was five years older than him for a start and drop dead gorgeous into the bargain, with jet black hair, stunning green eyes and great breasts, but he figured there was no harm in looking, so he did, at every opportunity.
Anyway after a couple of beers he got brave and started to flirt with her and he was really chuffed that she flirted back, though Kevin actually thought she was just being a really good sport.
They kept up the mutual flirtation for a while and then Rosie asked for a refill of her glass so Kevin reluctantly went off to the kitchen.
He thought it was probably just a ruse to get rid of him because she had tired of the converse but he didn’t mind, after all it had only been a bit of fun.
However much to his surprise and delight, not only had she not done a runner while he was in the kitchen but she was waiting for him in the hall and steered him expertly into the utility room and planted a hot wet kiss on his mouth.
After a few moments their mouths parted long enough for him to put the drinks down and get a short sentence out.
“I thought we were only flirting”
“You have a lot to learn about women” she said closing in on him again.
“Perhaps you could teach me then” he suggested
“Ok” she replied and leant her face towards him and gently touched her lips against his.
“A little more I think” he said
“You’d like me to teach you some more?” she asked smiling.
“Oh yes” He replied and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him then their lips met again and their mouths opened on contact and it then progressed with tongues flicking.
He had never had a French kiss before and he desperately hoped she wouldn’t notice.
She pulled herself away from his over enthusiastic efforts and looked into his eyes and smiled.
“You're not a bad kisser” she said kindly
“You're obviously a good teacher” he told her
“You haven’t seen anything yet” she said as she unzipped his fly and smiled lustily at him as she watched the pleasure on his face as her soft hand stroked and tugged on him.
Rosie stopped her ministrations suddenly and giggled before dropping to her knees where she wished she could see what expression of pleasure played on his face as her mouth eagerly enveloped him.
The experienced Rosie was expertly taking him to the very brink time and time again only to let his passion recede until on the last time she let him explode in her mouth and she greedily swallowed his seed.
“Now that’s better than flirting isn’t it?” she said wiping her mouth
“Oh yes” he agreed
“Bye lover” Rosie said when they emerged from the cupboard and he watched her walk away as they went their separate ways and as the party was by then in full swing their paths didn’t cross again until after midnight when Kevin was leaving to catch the last train home.
As he walked towards the station Kevin was reliving his intimate encounter in the cupboard with Rosie, and he hadn’t walked more than one hundred yards along the road when a car pulled up to the curb in front of him.
“Hey lover” Rosie called as he passed alongside the car
“Do you want a lift?”
Being a teenager and his mind being full of every lurid detail of the earlier blowjob he was sporting a hard on even before he got in the car.
“Thanks” he said and Rosie drove away and turned left at the end of the road.
“The station is the other way” he pointed out
“We’re not going to the station” she replied
“Where are we going then?”
“Think of it as another cupboard” she replied lustily
“Oh”
The metaphorical cupboard turned out to be a picnic area in Gracewood where it was time for Rosie to be on the receiving end when Kevin lost his cherry in the back of her Ford Fiesta.
It was more than 20 years ago in the Vale and when he was still only 16 and he was invited to a house party at the home of the friend of a friend in Finchbottom.
He wasn’t going to go at first, house parties weren’t really his kind of thing, but he allowed himself to be persuaded and as it turned out he was glad that he had because that was when he first saw Rosie Byrne.
She was way out of his league of course he knew that right from the outset, Rosie was five years older than him for a start and drop dead gorgeous into the bargain, with jet black hair, stunning green eyes and great breasts, but he figured there was no harm in looking, so he did, at every opportunity.
Anyway after a couple of beers he got brave and started to flirt with her and he was really chuffed that she flirted back, though Kevin actually thought she was just being a really good sport.
They kept up the mutual flirtation for a while and then Rosie asked for a refill of her glass so Kevin reluctantly went off to the kitchen.
He thought it was probably just a ruse to get rid of him because she had tired of the converse but he didn’t mind, after all it had only been a bit of fun.
However much to his surprise and delight, not only had she not done a runner while he was in the kitchen but she was waiting for him in the hall and steered him expertly into the utility room and planted a hot wet kiss on his mouth.
After a few moments their mouths parted long enough for him to put the drinks down and get a short sentence out.
“I thought we were only flirting”
“You have a lot to learn about women” she said closing in on him again.
“Perhaps you could teach me then” he suggested
“Ok” she replied and leant her face towards him and gently touched her lips against his.
“A little more I think” he said
“You’d like me to teach you some more?” she asked smiling.
“Oh yes” He replied and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him then their lips met again and their mouths opened on contact and it then progressed with tongues flicking.
He had never had a French kiss before and he desperately hoped she wouldn’t notice.
She pulled herself away from his over enthusiastic efforts and looked into his eyes and smiled.
“You're not a bad kisser” she said kindly
“You're obviously a good teacher” he told her
“You haven’t seen anything yet” she said as she unzipped his fly and smiled lustily at him as she watched the pleasure on his face as her soft hand stroked and tugged on him.
Rosie stopped her ministrations suddenly and giggled before dropping to her knees where she wished she could see what expression of pleasure played on his face as her mouth eagerly enveloped him.
The experienced Rosie was expertly taking him to the very brink time and time again only to let his passion recede until on the last time she let him explode in her mouth and she greedily swallowed his seed.
“Now that’s better than flirting isn’t it?” she said wiping her mouth
“Oh yes” he agreed
“Bye lover” Rosie said when they emerged from the cupboard and he watched her walk away as they went their separate ways and as the party was by then in full swing their paths didn’t cross again until after midnight when Kevin was leaving to catch the last train home.
As he walked towards the station Kevin was reliving his intimate encounter in the cupboard with Rosie, and he hadn’t walked more than one hundred yards along the road when a car pulled up to the curb in front of him.
“Hey lover” Rosie called as he passed alongside the car
“Do you want a lift?”
Being a teenager and his mind being full of every lurid detail of the earlier blowjob he was sporting a hard on even before he got in the car.
“Thanks” he said and Rosie drove away and turned left at the end of the road.
“The station is the other way” he pointed out
“We’re not going to the station” she replied
“Where are we going then?”
“Think of it as another cupboard” she replied lustily
“Oh”
The metaphorical cupboard turned out to be a picnic area in Gracewood where it was time for Rosie to be on the receiving end when Kevin lost his cherry in the back of her Ford Fiesta.
Saturday, 1 April 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (018) Acting Their Ages
(Part 01)
Yvonne Maher was a fifty-one year old divorcee and Tom Haggerty was fifty two and a widower and they were both spending there latter middle years alone.
Neither of them had children from their respective marriages and had no extended family to speak of.
They also shared the dubious honour of having dallied with younger lovers, much younger lovers.
Yvonne lived alone in a large detached Georgian house in a well-heeled leafy corner of Shallowfield
Yvonne was only just over fifty, but none the less she was the wrong side of that particular milestone but she wasn’t a lonely divorcee because Yvonne had a wide circle of friends.
Tom Haggerty lived in a quaint Tudor cottage in a quiet suburb on the posh side of Childean.
He was fifty two years old and recently widowed and immediately after his wife’s death he seemed to suddenly appear on the radar of the local spinster’s, widows and divorcees in and around his own age.
Tom had had a short breathless affair with a 23 year old yoga teacher which he ended.
But since being on his own, truly on his own he had harked back to his youth and the days before his six pack became victim to too many six packs.
His middle aged physique tended more towards the party seven than a six pack.
He also reflected on his old girlfriends of the day with their firm buttocks, flat stomachs and gravity defying breasts which stirred his loins in his lustful nostalgia.
Part of him wanted to return to those carefree days of youth.
When all that teenage sex was so wonderful, when he had such limited sexual experience, and so much of the fun was in the learning.
All the reminiscing left him with a certain longing but he knew the past could not be relived or recaptured.
At the same time Yvonne had gone through a long exhausting affair with an estate agent 25 years her junior.
And although he stimulated every cell in her body with monotonous regularity for the sake of her health and sanity she decided she would look after her own wants and needs and kicked him into touch.
What she craved was something he couldn’t give her.
She was looking for a companion, a confidant and a friend and not just someone to bang her brains out.
One of Tom’s biggest gripes at having such a young girlfriend was the dullness of her pillow talk.
Wendy was born into a generation that had so many means of communication at their disposal yet she still had nothing meaningful to say.
There was a lot to be said for being with a woman who was wrinkle free and supple, but it was what was said afterwards that he craved.
Yvonne was immensely flattered at her age to attract the attentions of such a young lover, but the price for such toe curling sexual encounters was too high to pay.
What she longed for was to be with someone with life experience, someone she could have a proper conversation with in between the love making or even instead of it.
It didn’t have to be deep and meaningful converse just a bit more intellectual than he said/she said.
What Tom and Yvonne both wanted was someone they could talk too, not about anything earth shattering, it could be as simple as a common history or shared knowledge, someone who knew the name of the dragon in Ivor the Engine, or someone who watched Brief Encounter and didn’t think it was funny, someone who had heard of Biafra, Aberfan and the Torrey Canyon or remembered when there were only three TV channels.
Someone who remembered being able to play music at the wrong speed on a gramophone and who remembered having to wait for the black and white TV set to warm up.
Just someone who understood what the other was saying and wouldn’t stare vacantly at you when you mentioned an event that happened pre 1990.
(Part 02)
Both of them had put a stop to their respective cradle snatching relationships and put their hopes in something more age appropriate and eventually their wishes were answered one day when a mutual friend introduced them to each other at a dinner party.
The friend was Lynn Cooper who lived on Teardrop Lake, her daughter Jane did the cooking.
During the course of the evening in between the main course and desert Tom leant over and asked
“Do you remember 8 track stereo?”
Yvonne smiled and nodded and all at once realised the significance of the question.
They both got their wish answered and they had their first date a week later which presented them both with more concerns.
Whenever you reach a certain age in life you will have acquired to a greater or lesser degree an unfortunate body shape and gravity becomes your enemy and a simple mirror becomes something to be avoided.
He never had doubts when he was doing the horizontal jog with the widows and spinsters but this time the image in the mirror dented his self-confidence, this time it mattered.
It was completely irrational, after all it was the same out of shape middle-aged body that had “Bendy Wendy” wetting her knickers all summer long.
His face had stood the test of time and he was genuinely quite presentable for his age when dressed in an expensive suit, it was just when he was out of it he was likely scare the animals.
He really liked Yvonne and he was hoping that would be reciprocated and he would get lucky and without being conceited he was confident he could leave her satisfied, so to speak, he’d made Wendy scream more than once.
If he got that far with Yvonne he was sure she wouldn’t regret it but his great fear was that he would leave her disappointed with his natural appearance, she might have a more refined palette.
He wanted to fulfil his hope of soon reaching a level of intimacy with the not unattractive divorcée Yvonne Maher.
Yvonne had been having much the same internal discussion as she stood before her own mirror the only difference was that she had been doing it for three hours longer.
Her body was in quite good shape she hadn’t given birth or had a hysterectomy so her body had not reached the level of decline that some of her contemporary’s had.
Plus she had been put through a long intimate summer workout by the gardening Estate Agent which had kept her well limbered up.
Finally she deemed herself satisfied with the final look, she just hoped it would suffice for him.
She had high hopes of Tom Haggerty, she was hopeful he might fill the hole in her life.
She sniggered at the thought of him filling her hole as she dressed in her most flattering silk undergarments complete with stockings and suspenders.
Yvonne had spent five hours getting ready which involved applying endless lotions, potions, creams and balms as well as expensive underwear.
And all the time she was dressing she was imagining Tom undressing her.
And when she looked at the final result of her efforts in the mirror she had no doubts at that moment she would get Tom into the bedroom but with everything removed she was worried he might not want to go back for seconds.
(Part 03)
The date went very well, dinner at the Brown Windsor in Shallowfield and then back to Yvonne’s for coffee.
The kiss came while they waited for the kettle to boil and the moment their lips met Tom was more concerned about bringing Yvonne to the boil.
They were both strangely nervous so Yvonne went upstairs on her own to prepare herself and Tom followed ten minutes later and undressed quickly on the landing.
He slipped silently into the semi darkness of the room and she was already in bed and he quickly joined her.
Yvonne turned onto her side as he got in and they cuddled up face to face, as his hands caressed her he found she was naked but for her lace topped stockings, and he liked that very much.
They kissed then in the semi darkness and Yvonne signalled her intent when she took hold of his cock.
The kiss grew with intensity as Toms hands sort out first her plump breast and then her welcoming lips which opened like the petals of a flower and he frigged at her wetness as she continued to play with his shaft until he rolled her onto her back.
As he climbed on board her thighs parted obligingly and she gripped his cock once moor only this time she guided it between her eager lips and he slowly slid into her.
Yvonne held her breath momentarily at the instance of penetration and then closed her eyes as she leant her head back into the pillow and sucked in air through her teeth as she received all of him.
She writhed beneath him and moaned softly as her stocking clad thighs gripped him then she squirmed as she reached that ecstatic point, the breathless hinterland between being rooted to the ground and the gravity defying release of orgasm.
Tom looked down on her as she softly moaned and writhed as she came with a deliciously sweet utterance that briefly preceded his own climax.
“That’s more like it” Tom said to himself as he withdrew from her and she let out a sigh.
And as they lay cuddling in the afterglow Yvonne thought to herself
“That was very acceptable”
They had made love for the first time, and that was the difference, making love was so much nicer than just having sex.
There may not have been any risk of being orgasmed to the point of unconsciousness by Tom but nonetheless the whole evening, particularly the last part of it was
“Very acceptable indeed”
At the same time Tom was thinking that while Yvonne may not have been as agile, pliable or have the same stamina as a woman half her age, like Bendy Wendy, but Yvonne was just what he was looking for.
And as they lay breathless in the darkness they had the most banal and trivial conversations into the small hours and when they had finished instead of making love again they just cuddled up and went to sleep.
There would be plenty of time for more love making and many other interesting conversations.
Yvonne Maher was a fifty-one year old divorcee and Tom Haggerty was fifty two and a widower and they were both spending there latter middle years alone.
Neither of them had children from their respective marriages and had no extended family to speak of.
They also shared the dubious honour of having dallied with younger lovers, much younger lovers.
Yvonne lived alone in a large detached Georgian house in a well-heeled leafy corner of Shallowfield
Yvonne was only just over fifty, but none the less she was the wrong side of that particular milestone but she wasn’t a lonely divorcee because Yvonne had a wide circle of friends.
Tom Haggerty lived in a quaint Tudor cottage in a quiet suburb on the posh side of Childean.
He was fifty two years old and recently widowed and immediately after his wife’s death he seemed to suddenly appear on the radar of the local spinster’s, widows and divorcees in and around his own age.
Tom had had a short breathless affair with a 23 year old yoga teacher which he ended.
But since being on his own, truly on his own he had harked back to his youth and the days before his six pack became victim to too many six packs.
His middle aged physique tended more towards the party seven than a six pack.
He also reflected on his old girlfriends of the day with their firm buttocks, flat stomachs and gravity defying breasts which stirred his loins in his lustful nostalgia.
Part of him wanted to return to those carefree days of youth.
When all that teenage sex was so wonderful, when he had such limited sexual experience, and so much of the fun was in the learning.
All the reminiscing left him with a certain longing but he knew the past could not be relived or recaptured.
At the same time Yvonne had gone through a long exhausting affair with an estate agent 25 years her junior.
And although he stimulated every cell in her body with monotonous regularity for the sake of her health and sanity she decided she would look after her own wants and needs and kicked him into touch.
What she craved was something he couldn’t give her.
She was looking for a companion, a confidant and a friend and not just someone to bang her brains out.
One of Tom’s biggest gripes at having such a young girlfriend was the dullness of her pillow talk.
Wendy was born into a generation that had so many means of communication at their disposal yet she still had nothing meaningful to say.
There was a lot to be said for being with a woman who was wrinkle free and supple, but it was what was said afterwards that he craved.
Yvonne was immensely flattered at her age to attract the attentions of such a young lover, but the price for such toe curling sexual encounters was too high to pay.
What she longed for was to be with someone with life experience, someone she could have a proper conversation with in between the love making or even instead of it.
It didn’t have to be deep and meaningful converse just a bit more intellectual than he said/she said.
What Tom and Yvonne both wanted was someone they could talk too, not about anything earth shattering, it could be as simple as a common history or shared knowledge, someone who knew the name of the dragon in Ivor the Engine, or someone who watched Brief Encounter and didn’t think it was funny, someone who had heard of Biafra, Aberfan and the Torrey Canyon or remembered when there were only three TV channels.
Someone who remembered being able to play music at the wrong speed on a gramophone and who remembered having to wait for the black and white TV set to warm up.
Just someone who understood what the other was saying and wouldn’t stare vacantly at you when you mentioned an event that happened pre 1990.
(Part 02)
Both of them had put a stop to their respective cradle snatching relationships and put their hopes in something more age appropriate and eventually their wishes were answered one day when a mutual friend introduced them to each other at a dinner party.
The friend was Lynn Cooper who lived on Teardrop Lake, her daughter Jane did the cooking.
During the course of the evening in between the main course and desert Tom leant over and asked
“Do you remember 8 track stereo?”
Yvonne smiled and nodded and all at once realised the significance of the question.
They both got their wish answered and they had their first date a week later which presented them both with more concerns.
Whenever you reach a certain age in life you will have acquired to a greater or lesser degree an unfortunate body shape and gravity becomes your enemy and a simple mirror becomes something to be avoided.
He never had doubts when he was doing the horizontal jog with the widows and spinsters but this time the image in the mirror dented his self-confidence, this time it mattered.
It was completely irrational, after all it was the same out of shape middle-aged body that had “Bendy Wendy” wetting her knickers all summer long.
His face had stood the test of time and he was genuinely quite presentable for his age when dressed in an expensive suit, it was just when he was out of it he was likely scare the animals.
He really liked Yvonne and he was hoping that would be reciprocated and he would get lucky and without being conceited he was confident he could leave her satisfied, so to speak, he’d made Wendy scream more than once.
If he got that far with Yvonne he was sure she wouldn’t regret it but his great fear was that he would leave her disappointed with his natural appearance, she might have a more refined palette.
He wanted to fulfil his hope of soon reaching a level of intimacy with the not unattractive divorcée Yvonne Maher.
Yvonne had been having much the same internal discussion as she stood before her own mirror the only difference was that she had been doing it for three hours longer.
Her body was in quite good shape she hadn’t given birth or had a hysterectomy so her body had not reached the level of decline that some of her contemporary’s had.
Plus she had been put through a long intimate summer workout by the gardening Estate Agent which had kept her well limbered up.
Finally she deemed herself satisfied with the final look, she just hoped it would suffice for him.
She had high hopes of Tom Haggerty, she was hopeful he might fill the hole in her life.
She sniggered at the thought of him filling her hole as she dressed in her most flattering silk undergarments complete with stockings and suspenders.
Yvonne had spent five hours getting ready which involved applying endless lotions, potions, creams and balms as well as expensive underwear.
And all the time she was dressing she was imagining Tom undressing her.
And when she looked at the final result of her efforts in the mirror she had no doubts at that moment she would get Tom into the bedroom but with everything removed she was worried he might not want to go back for seconds.
(Part 03)
The date went very well, dinner at the Brown Windsor in Shallowfield and then back to Yvonne’s for coffee.
The kiss came while they waited for the kettle to boil and the moment their lips met Tom was more concerned about bringing Yvonne to the boil.
They were both strangely nervous so Yvonne went upstairs on her own to prepare herself and Tom followed ten minutes later and undressed quickly on the landing.
He slipped silently into the semi darkness of the room and she was already in bed and he quickly joined her.
Yvonne turned onto her side as he got in and they cuddled up face to face, as his hands caressed her he found she was naked but for her lace topped stockings, and he liked that very much.
They kissed then in the semi darkness and Yvonne signalled her intent when she took hold of his cock.
The kiss grew with intensity as Toms hands sort out first her plump breast and then her welcoming lips which opened like the petals of a flower and he frigged at her wetness as she continued to play with his shaft until he rolled her onto her back.
As he climbed on board her thighs parted obligingly and she gripped his cock once moor only this time she guided it between her eager lips and he slowly slid into her.
Yvonne held her breath momentarily at the instance of penetration and then closed her eyes as she leant her head back into the pillow and sucked in air through her teeth as she received all of him.
She writhed beneath him and moaned softly as her stocking clad thighs gripped him then she squirmed as she reached that ecstatic point, the breathless hinterland between being rooted to the ground and the gravity defying release of orgasm.
Tom looked down on her as she softly moaned and writhed as she came with a deliciously sweet utterance that briefly preceded his own climax.
“That’s more like it” Tom said to himself as he withdrew from her and she let out a sigh.
And as they lay cuddling in the afterglow Yvonne thought to herself
“That was very acceptable”
They had made love for the first time, and that was the difference, making love was so much nicer than just having sex.
There may not have been any risk of being orgasmed to the point of unconsciousness by Tom but nonetheless the whole evening, particularly the last part of it was
“Very acceptable indeed”
At the same time Tom was thinking that while Yvonne may not have been as agile, pliable or have the same stamina as a woman half her age, like Bendy Wendy, but Yvonne was just what he was looking for.
And as they lay breathless in the darkness they had the most banal and trivial conversations into the small hours and when they had finished instead of making love again they just cuddled up and went to sleep.
There would be plenty of time for more love making and many other interesting conversations.
Friday, 31 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (017) Bedding Bendy Wendy
(Part 01)
Tom Haggerty lived in a quaint Tudor cottage in a quiet suburb on the posh side of Childean.
He was fifty Two years old and recently widowed and immediately after his wife’s death he seemed to suddenly appear on the radar of the local spinster’s, widows and divorcees in and around his own age.
In fact it all started at his wife’s funeral where he was buttonholed by two well-presented mourners who made it perfectly clear he could avail himself of them if he chose to do so.
But it was many months after his dear wife was laid to rest and only after repeatedly rebuffing the endless advances of even the most attractive of the local pursuing vamps that he finally decided out of desperation and loneliness to dip his toe in the water and bump uglies with some of the local “talent”.
And those salacious liaisons went on for some time but as enjoyable as they were his heart wasn’t really in it, but he would probably have continued nonetheless but for a providential collision.
When quite by chance on one damp miserable day he met Wendy in Tesco’s car park after a minor fender bender.
She was a very beautiful woman, tall and willowy with long light ginger hair, and a smiling freckled face.
Wendy was a much younger woman than Tom had of late been involved with, in fact she was a considerably younger woman than he, whom at the time he looked upon her merely as a casual observer, although he thought she was attractive and shapely with her Lycra outfit doing nothing to hide her assets, he completely overlooked the fact that he was a man and she was a woman, because he believed she couldn’t possibly be interested in an old man like him.
And although they laughed and joked and she flicked at her hair flirtatiously he was flattered but for him it was a nonstarter, the stuff of cheap fiction, or so he thought at least, but in time he was to find out that he was wrong.
It was a warm summer Saturday afternoon a few days after the accident when Wendy knocked on his door.
“Oh hello” he said doing a double take when he recognised the beautiful smiling young woman, not dressed in Lycra or with her hair up this time, but her ginger tresses flowed free and she was wearing a summer dress, and very little else as far as he could tell.
“Hi Tom” she said and flicked her wayward hair off her face.
“This is a surprise” he said
“I wanted to make sure you were ok” Wendy said and proffered to him a bottle of wine “And apologize again”
“There really is no need” Tom insisted
“I thought there was”
“Well this is very kind of you” he said “but I can’t accept it unless you join me in drinking it”
“I thought you would never ask”
“Well you make yourself comfortable on the patio and I’ll get some glasses” he said
(Part 02)
So Wendy walked out through the French doors while Tom went into the kitchen and got two glasses from the cupboard and after opening the bottle of Pinot he poured two generous glasses of the wine and headed towards the patio.
He stepped outside with a glass in each hand but his uninvited guest was nowhere to be seen, at least not at first.
Tom had assumed she had just taken a turn around the garden while she was waiting and was about to put the glasses down and go in search of her when she suddenly came into view.
“You see I made myself comfortable” she said as she stood on the edge of the patio with the greenery of the garden behind her wearing a bracelet on her wrist, rings on her fingers and a smile on her face and absolutely nothing else.
He returned her smile and then his eyes began to view her in detail beginning with her ginger tresses, streaked with gold from the sun which he followed as they hung down to her naked plump white breasts, adorned with pale pink nipples.
They then travelled down over the topography of her white flesh, from her pronounced ribs, flat belly, narrow waist, and bony hips until they settled on the ginger tuft of pubic hair pointing the way to the gap between her skinny thighs.
“So I can see” he replied still holding the wine glasses, and then she began to walk towards him.
Well if the vision of her standing naked had mesmerised him it was nothing in comparison to the view of the naked Wendy when she set her gorgeous body in motion.
She walked slowly and deliberately getting the maximum movement into each delicious step, making her skinny hips roll which in turn made her plump little tits move in unison. By the time she reached him his mouth was open and his arousal was stirring in his shorts.
Wendy dealt with both of these things in turn, first by putting her mouth over his and invading it with her eager tongue, and with the second by wrestling it from his shorts and gently pulling on it.
Tom was unable to prevent either of these actions as he was still holding a glass of rapidly warming wine in each hand, not that he wanted to.
As her bony fingers stroked along the length of his bone she removed her mouth from his and gave him a broad confident smile before sinking to her knees where her beautiful smile enveloped his swollen organ.
After some prolonged and expert ministration to his cock she was again on her feet in front of him with the same confident smile on her face.
Wendy relieved him of one of the wine glasses and drained it and said
“You can join in now”
Tom took her by the hand and put his glass down on the table as he led her into the house.
His intent was to bed her upstairs but Wendy intervened and pushed him onto the sofa where she climbed on his lap and impaled her ginger pussy on him.
(Part 03)
Tom felt faintly ridiculous having a 23 year old girlfriend and had a feeling of extreme amazement and delight, though more amazement if he was completely honest.
His wife Mary would have laughed like a drain if she could have seen him with a girl she would have considered a child, he really missed Mary.
The sex with Wendy was amazing and made his toes curl and also made his cock stir just to think about it and without wanting to be disloyal to his late wife’s memory it was probably the best sex he’d ever had, no that wasn’t true it was definitely the best sex he had ever had or was ever likely to have.
She was supple, agile and pliable in fact she was really quite exceptionally bendy, he even called her bendy Wendy, and she had near inexhaustible stamina.
But even though Wendy was as horny as hell and a more than accomplished sexual partner she was unfortunately duller than ditch water.
She was “fun” to be with when he was benefiting from her expertise, but her company wasn’t stimulating other than in the obvious way.
Any red bloodied man not in his position would have thought him quite mad for wanting to end it.
But she had no conversation and was the very definition of vacuous.
Gorgeous, sexy, horny as hell and truly accomplished in the sexual arts, but as dumb as a stick.
The truth was that Wendy did not meet all his needs other than the physical.
What Tom wanted was someone like his wife, someone who loved him and who he could love and more importantly talk too.
Someone who knew that Muffin the Mule wasn’t a sexual offence, someone who didn’t think Mr Pastry was a 1960 version of Paul Hollywood and a woman who remembered a time when you had to get up to change the TV channel.
Wendy was not the answer to this want.
Nor could she fill his desire for some nice gentle love making and an affectionate cuddle, some grown up conversation.
Wendy was not someone he could fall asleep in front of the TV with so he decided to end it.
He went outside to break the news to Wendy but when he saw her in the garden squatting naked by the side of the ornamental fish pond Tom thought to himself “ok just one more fuck then”
Tom Haggerty lived in a quaint Tudor cottage in a quiet suburb on the posh side of Childean.
He was fifty Two years old and recently widowed and immediately after his wife’s death he seemed to suddenly appear on the radar of the local spinster’s, widows and divorcees in and around his own age.
In fact it all started at his wife’s funeral where he was buttonholed by two well-presented mourners who made it perfectly clear he could avail himself of them if he chose to do so.
But it was many months after his dear wife was laid to rest and only after repeatedly rebuffing the endless advances of even the most attractive of the local pursuing vamps that he finally decided out of desperation and loneliness to dip his toe in the water and bump uglies with some of the local “talent”.
And those salacious liaisons went on for some time but as enjoyable as they were his heart wasn’t really in it, but he would probably have continued nonetheless but for a providential collision.
When quite by chance on one damp miserable day he met Wendy in Tesco’s car park after a minor fender bender.
She was a very beautiful woman, tall and willowy with long light ginger hair, and a smiling freckled face.
Wendy was a much younger woman than Tom had of late been involved with, in fact she was a considerably younger woman than he, whom at the time he looked upon her merely as a casual observer, although he thought she was attractive and shapely with her Lycra outfit doing nothing to hide her assets, he completely overlooked the fact that he was a man and she was a woman, because he believed she couldn’t possibly be interested in an old man like him.
And although they laughed and joked and she flicked at her hair flirtatiously he was flattered but for him it was a nonstarter, the stuff of cheap fiction, or so he thought at least, but in time he was to find out that he was wrong.
It was a warm summer Saturday afternoon a few days after the accident when Wendy knocked on his door.
“Oh hello” he said doing a double take when he recognised the beautiful smiling young woman, not dressed in Lycra or with her hair up this time, but her ginger tresses flowed free and she was wearing a summer dress, and very little else as far as he could tell.
“Hi Tom” she said and flicked her wayward hair off her face.
“This is a surprise” he said
“I wanted to make sure you were ok” Wendy said and proffered to him a bottle of wine “And apologize again”
“There really is no need” Tom insisted
“I thought there was”
“Well this is very kind of you” he said “but I can’t accept it unless you join me in drinking it”
“I thought you would never ask”
“Well you make yourself comfortable on the patio and I’ll get some glasses” he said
(Part 02)
So Wendy walked out through the French doors while Tom went into the kitchen and got two glasses from the cupboard and after opening the bottle of Pinot he poured two generous glasses of the wine and headed towards the patio.
He stepped outside with a glass in each hand but his uninvited guest was nowhere to be seen, at least not at first.
Tom had assumed she had just taken a turn around the garden while she was waiting and was about to put the glasses down and go in search of her when she suddenly came into view.
“You see I made myself comfortable” she said as she stood on the edge of the patio with the greenery of the garden behind her wearing a bracelet on her wrist, rings on her fingers and a smile on her face and absolutely nothing else.
He returned her smile and then his eyes began to view her in detail beginning with her ginger tresses, streaked with gold from the sun which he followed as they hung down to her naked plump white breasts, adorned with pale pink nipples.
They then travelled down over the topography of her white flesh, from her pronounced ribs, flat belly, narrow waist, and bony hips until they settled on the ginger tuft of pubic hair pointing the way to the gap between her skinny thighs.
“So I can see” he replied still holding the wine glasses, and then she began to walk towards him.
Well if the vision of her standing naked had mesmerised him it was nothing in comparison to the view of the naked Wendy when she set her gorgeous body in motion.
She walked slowly and deliberately getting the maximum movement into each delicious step, making her skinny hips roll which in turn made her plump little tits move in unison. By the time she reached him his mouth was open and his arousal was stirring in his shorts.
Wendy dealt with both of these things in turn, first by putting her mouth over his and invading it with her eager tongue, and with the second by wrestling it from his shorts and gently pulling on it.
Tom was unable to prevent either of these actions as he was still holding a glass of rapidly warming wine in each hand, not that he wanted to.
As her bony fingers stroked along the length of his bone she removed her mouth from his and gave him a broad confident smile before sinking to her knees where her beautiful smile enveloped his swollen organ.
After some prolonged and expert ministration to his cock she was again on her feet in front of him with the same confident smile on her face.
Wendy relieved him of one of the wine glasses and drained it and said
“You can join in now”
Tom took her by the hand and put his glass down on the table as he led her into the house.
His intent was to bed her upstairs but Wendy intervened and pushed him onto the sofa where she climbed on his lap and impaled her ginger pussy on him.
(Part 03)
Tom felt faintly ridiculous having a 23 year old girlfriend and had a feeling of extreme amazement and delight, though more amazement if he was completely honest.
His wife Mary would have laughed like a drain if she could have seen him with a girl she would have considered a child, he really missed Mary.
The sex with Wendy was amazing and made his toes curl and also made his cock stir just to think about it and without wanting to be disloyal to his late wife’s memory it was probably the best sex he’d ever had, no that wasn’t true it was definitely the best sex he had ever had or was ever likely to have.
She was supple, agile and pliable in fact she was really quite exceptionally bendy, he even called her bendy Wendy, and she had near inexhaustible stamina.
But even though Wendy was as horny as hell and a more than accomplished sexual partner she was unfortunately duller than ditch water.
She was “fun” to be with when he was benefiting from her expertise, but her company wasn’t stimulating other than in the obvious way.
Any red bloodied man not in his position would have thought him quite mad for wanting to end it.
But she had no conversation and was the very definition of vacuous.
Gorgeous, sexy, horny as hell and truly accomplished in the sexual arts, but as dumb as a stick.
The truth was that Wendy did not meet all his needs other than the physical.
What Tom wanted was someone like his wife, someone who loved him and who he could love and more importantly talk too.
Someone who knew that Muffin the Mule wasn’t a sexual offence, someone who didn’t think Mr Pastry was a 1960 version of Paul Hollywood and a woman who remembered a time when you had to get up to change the TV channel.
Wendy was not the answer to this want.
Nor could she fill his desire for some nice gentle love making and an affectionate cuddle, some grown up conversation.
Wendy was not someone he could fall asleep in front of the TV with so he decided to end it.
He went outside to break the news to Wendy but when he saw her in the garden squatting naked by the side of the ornamental fish pond Tom thought to himself “ok just one more fuck then”
Thursday, 30 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (016) The Accidental Cougar
(Part 01)
Yvonne Maher lived alone in a large detached Georgian house in a well-heeled leafy corner of Shallowfield and it was a bright early autumn morning when she lay cosily beneath her duvet and reflected on what had been a very interesting and eventful summer.
Yvonne was over fifty, only just over, but none the less she was the wrong side of that particular milestone and she was divorced to boot.
But she wasn’t a lonely divorcee because Yvonne had a wide circle of friends.
She also had a younger lover, more than 25 years younger to be precise which she supposed made her a cougar.
Yvonne had just come through a rather bitter divorce when they met, not that she was heartbroken by the ordeal or needed picking up from it.
In fact she didn’t mind being divorced, she hardly ever saw her husband Graham when they were together anyway, he was always on the golf course or in the 19th or more often than not he was in his secretary.
But when she met her young lover, Philip, it opened her eyes and showed her that she was still an attractive woman, still a sexy woman, still a desirable woman and her ex-husband Graham never appreciated that.
Her lover was her next door neighbour’s son, 25 years old with the body of an Adonis, a brain the size of an avocado and a cock that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Shetland pony.
She was immensely flattered to still attract male attention at her age, she had had so little attention paid to her by her ex-husband that she had forgotten how attractive she was and Philip was very attentive, very considerate and extremely vigorous.
A session with him was like Zumba and Pilates combined with mild electrocution.
After a weekend with him she was quite literally shagged out and needed the best part of a week to recover.
Not that she wanted to seem ungrateful, as many women in her position, or positions, would have been quite envious if she’d ever told anyone about him and what he did to her and how often, they certainly would not have been sympathetic if she enlightened them.
After all there was a lot to be said for being orgasmed to the point of unconsciousness at any age.
It was just that sometimes she would have been quite happy with an early night and a cuddle.
If her affair with Philip went on too long she wasn’t at all sure that his vital and sustained attention wouldn’t shag her into an early grave.
Plus the fact she was no teenager anymore and getting ready for a date that would end with her being stripped naked and well and truly ravished took a lot longer than it used to do.
As a teen, a squirt of perfume and some lippy and she was good to go.
Now she needed 24 hours’ notice a good night sleep and five hours to prepare.
At the time she met Philip she wasn’t looking for a man of any description and she certainly wasn’t looking for a toy boy she hadn’t even asked to have her grass cut so she truly was an accidental Cougar.
And it all began one early summer’s day when Philips mother Emily volunteered her Estate Agent son to spend his day off cutting her not insubstantial lawns.
(Part 02)
It was a very hot day which got all the hotter for Yvonne when Philip took off his shirt and his muscular well-toned torso glistened with sweat.
By the end of the day she was at boiling point and he had finished all the lawns and was ready to abandon his horticultural endeavours and focus his prowess towards attending to her bush.
Yvonne was in the kitchen getting him some water when he walked up behind her and slipped his hands inside her top, before she could even protest he had un-cupped her breasts and then she didn’t want to protest anymore.
Yvonne was still holding the glass in one hand and the other was on the tap which was still running.
She was unable to complete the simple task she was performing because his big hands were fondling her breasts and was powerless to resist, she knew it was wrong but she hadn’t had a man’s hands on her for two years and all she could do was hope he didn’t stop.
So Yvonne actually sighed as his hand left her breast but then she gasped as it unbuttoned her shorts.
She closed her eyes as he began to tug the zip down slowly inch by inch and as his fingertips slipped beneath the waistband of her silk panties to go where no hand but hers had been for more than two years her knees buckled and she dropped the glass in the sink.
But Philips left arm wrapped around her body and supported her weight as his fingers invaded her wet crease and she moaned coarsely and he continued to support her while his fingers quickly brought her to the brink.
Still supporting her upper body Philip took a step backwards and Yvonne’s inability to relinquish her grip on the tap forced her to bend at the waist leaving her poised invitingly for the eager youth.
Her shorts had already fallen to her knees during his frantic fingering and with a deft hand movement Philips ensured her silk knickers joined them.
He then debagged himself and poised for the briefest moment to admire Mrs Maher’s plump arse and bejewelled pussy before plunging into her and then banging her into oblivion.
That early summer afternoon rogering was the first of many such occasions when she was on the receiving end of his huge cock.
But as Yvonne lay beneath her duvet on an Autumnal morning she wondered if it was worth it, well obviously when he was in her up to his balls vigorously attending to her it was clearly worth it.
After all sex with Philip, although really marvellous, was also very exhausting.
What she really wanted was someone of her own age, who could still get her wet but who would appreciate her for what she was when she wasn’t glammed up, someone she could be herself with.
Not that useless article of an ex-husband though, someone kind and considerate.
What Philip had done more than anything that summer, apart from skewer her repeatedly, was to remind her how much she enjoyed sex and once she had tasted the sweet sensual nectar of lust once again she had an appetite for it that she needed to quench.
So as she lay beneath the duvet she made an important decision, she wouldn’t see Philip again, because his stamina really could have been the death of her.
So she would instead seek out a less vigorous partner or even partners.
And with the momentous decision made she snuggled down beneath the duvet and availed herself of a cheeky finger.
Yvonne Maher lived alone in a large detached Georgian house in a well-heeled leafy corner of Shallowfield and it was a bright early autumn morning when she lay cosily beneath her duvet and reflected on what had been a very interesting and eventful summer.
Yvonne was over fifty, only just over, but none the less she was the wrong side of that particular milestone and she was divorced to boot.
But she wasn’t a lonely divorcee because Yvonne had a wide circle of friends.
She also had a younger lover, more than 25 years younger to be precise which she supposed made her a cougar.
Yvonne had just come through a rather bitter divorce when they met, not that she was heartbroken by the ordeal or needed picking up from it.
In fact she didn’t mind being divorced, she hardly ever saw her husband Graham when they were together anyway, he was always on the golf course or in the 19th or more often than not he was in his secretary.
But when she met her young lover, Philip, it opened her eyes and showed her that she was still an attractive woman, still a sexy woman, still a desirable woman and her ex-husband Graham never appreciated that.
Her lover was her next door neighbour’s son, 25 years old with the body of an Adonis, a brain the size of an avocado and a cock that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Shetland pony.
She was immensely flattered to still attract male attention at her age, she had had so little attention paid to her by her ex-husband that she had forgotten how attractive she was and Philip was very attentive, very considerate and extremely vigorous.
A session with him was like Zumba and Pilates combined with mild electrocution.
After a weekend with him she was quite literally shagged out and needed the best part of a week to recover.
Not that she wanted to seem ungrateful, as many women in her position, or positions, would have been quite envious if she’d ever told anyone about him and what he did to her and how often, they certainly would not have been sympathetic if she enlightened them.
After all there was a lot to be said for being orgasmed to the point of unconsciousness at any age.
It was just that sometimes she would have been quite happy with an early night and a cuddle.
If her affair with Philip went on too long she wasn’t at all sure that his vital and sustained attention wouldn’t shag her into an early grave.
Plus the fact she was no teenager anymore and getting ready for a date that would end with her being stripped naked and well and truly ravished took a lot longer than it used to do.
As a teen, a squirt of perfume and some lippy and she was good to go.
Now she needed 24 hours’ notice a good night sleep and five hours to prepare.
At the time she met Philip she wasn’t looking for a man of any description and she certainly wasn’t looking for a toy boy she hadn’t even asked to have her grass cut so she truly was an accidental Cougar.
And it all began one early summer’s day when Philips mother Emily volunteered her Estate Agent son to spend his day off cutting her not insubstantial lawns.
(Part 02)
It was a very hot day which got all the hotter for Yvonne when Philip took off his shirt and his muscular well-toned torso glistened with sweat.
By the end of the day she was at boiling point and he had finished all the lawns and was ready to abandon his horticultural endeavours and focus his prowess towards attending to her bush.
Yvonne was in the kitchen getting him some water when he walked up behind her and slipped his hands inside her top, before she could even protest he had un-cupped her breasts and then she didn’t want to protest anymore.
Yvonne was still holding the glass in one hand and the other was on the tap which was still running.
She was unable to complete the simple task she was performing because his big hands were fondling her breasts and was powerless to resist, she knew it was wrong but she hadn’t had a man’s hands on her for two years and all she could do was hope he didn’t stop.
So Yvonne actually sighed as his hand left her breast but then she gasped as it unbuttoned her shorts.
She closed her eyes as he began to tug the zip down slowly inch by inch and as his fingertips slipped beneath the waistband of her silk panties to go where no hand but hers had been for more than two years her knees buckled and she dropped the glass in the sink.
But Philips left arm wrapped around her body and supported her weight as his fingers invaded her wet crease and she moaned coarsely and he continued to support her while his fingers quickly brought her to the brink.
Still supporting her upper body Philip took a step backwards and Yvonne’s inability to relinquish her grip on the tap forced her to bend at the waist leaving her poised invitingly for the eager youth.
Her shorts had already fallen to her knees during his frantic fingering and with a deft hand movement Philips ensured her silk knickers joined them.
He then debagged himself and poised for the briefest moment to admire Mrs Maher’s plump arse and bejewelled pussy before plunging into her and then banging her into oblivion.
That early summer afternoon rogering was the first of many such occasions when she was on the receiving end of his huge cock.
But as Yvonne lay beneath her duvet on an Autumnal morning she wondered if it was worth it, well obviously when he was in her up to his balls vigorously attending to her it was clearly worth it.
After all sex with Philip, although really marvellous, was also very exhausting.
What she really wanted was someone of her own age, who could still get her wet but who would appreciate her for what she was when she wasn’t glammed up, someone she could be herself with.
Not that useless article of an ex-husband though, someone kind and considerate.
What Philip had done more than anything that summer, apart from skewer her repeatedly, was to remind her how much she enjoyed sex and once she had tasted the sweet sensual nectar of lust once again she had an appetite for it that she needed to quench.
So as she lay beneath the duvet she made an important decision, she wouldn’t see Philip again, because his stamina really could have been the death of her.
So she would instead seek out a less vigorous partner or even partners.
And with the momentous decision made she snuggled down beneath the duvet and availed herself of a cheeky finger.
Wednesday, 29 March 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (015) Birthday Girl’s
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.
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.
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.
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