It was a glorious day in the Finchbottom Vale, though the occasion at the Childean Memorial Hall was a gloomy one, when Vincent Ellington saw her standing alone on the terrace, bathed in the afternoon sun and staring out into the distance.
Vincent was a thirty something accountant and longstanding family friend of the Land’s.
He walked up behind her and lightly stroked the back of Lisa’s naked arm.
“Are you ok honey?” he asked
“No not really” she replied and the tears immediately welled up in her eyes as she turned towards him, so he took her in his arms and she dissolved completely into tears.
“Its ok honey” He whispered, “let it all go”
And as she sobbed uncontrollably into his chest Vincent kissed the top of her head.
He held her close and stroked her back as she sobbed until she lifted her head and said
“I’m getting you shirt wet Vince”
“I don’t care” He replied and she broke down again which was when, to his eternal shame, he got aroused, very aroused.
He would have said in his defense that he was holding in his arms a very beautiful woman, and a woman he had not only lusted after for more than five years but who he had actually been in love with for four of those years.
What he couldn’t offer any excuse for was what he was thinking as she sobbed her heart out and he consoled her with his empty words.
And those shameful thoughts concerned him trying to imagine what she was wearing under her mourning clothes and his arousal was reaching epic proportions as he considered all the various options and the images in his head which were so vivid that he was close to tipping his barrow as he held her in his arms.
The only thing that prevented his discharge from happening was the sudden and unexpected arrival on the scene of Lisa’s mother.
Her mum took her back inside to grieve more privately but as Mrs. Land led her daughter away and offered her words of comfort he had to remain on the terrace for a few minutes longer due to his inability to walk.
That inability wasn’t helped in any way whatsoever by the fact that as he watched her and her mother walk away he still continued to think long and hard about the infinite possibilities of the lingerie Lisa Land might be wearing beneath her widow’s weeds.
But no matter how much he loved her or lusted after her or even how aroused he was, he knew with certainty that he wasn’t going to quench the ache in his balls with Lisa.
Not that day anyway but he had no doubt that over the coming weeks he would become well acquainted with the contents of her knicker draw.
But in the meantime he would have to amuse himself with one of the other black clad mourner’s and slake his thirst for a woman in black underwear.
Wednesday, 5 April 2017
Tuesday, 4 April 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (021) Dressed in Yellow
(Part 01)
It was a beautiful sunny day in the village of Dulcet-on-Brooke where James Herring sat on his sunny terrace looking at the girl in the yellow dress, a beautiful girl with her brunette hair cascading onto the sun kissed skin of her shoulders.
The Sun Terrace James was sitting on looked out across an expanse of lawn which ran down to the bank of the River Brooke.
But he had eyes only for Gemma who was the gorgeous girl wearing the pretty yellow dress, which he found deliciously attractive, and rather arousing but then that may have been because he knew she was wearing matching yellow underwear beneath it.
And the reason James knew what underwear was beneath the dress on the beautiful girl was because he had watched her getting dressed that morning.
Twice in fact, because after the first time he undressed her again and made love to her.
And at that precise moment on the Terrace he looked forward to slipping them off her again, and soon.
Yet this brown haired beauty only a year previously had been to all intents and purposes a dowdy frump.
Her name then was Gemma Cumber but that was before she married James.
They had met in the fog on the banks of Teardrop Lake, he was there for the sailing and she was on a walking break.
And on the day they first met, Gemma was dressed in stout old fashioned brogues, long argyle socks, grey tweed skirt and a shapeless sweater of indeterminate colour, which was very drab in the foggy gloom although she would have looked drab even in bright sunshine so drab really summed her up.
Her hair was tied in a bun beneath a tweed cap that matched the skirt and she appeared to be dressed for the 1930s and looked about forty.
Unfortunately the fog came down so thick and fast it wasn’t safe to try and move in any direction so they sat down and waited for the fog to disperse.
It was only as they sat on some rocks in the fog and shared her provisions, packed for her day’s adventure, that he saw and fell in love with the girl beneath the façade and discovered that beneath the frumpy exterior his soul mate was hidden from view.
And in the year since that day by the lake they had been the happiest either of them had ever been.
But on that warm summer’s day they were in the back garden of their first home together and they were entertaining guests.
So apart from James and Gemma, in the party were James’s brother John and his wife Elaine, and Elaine’s sister Karen and her partner Graham.
He was smiling as he watched her and when she looked up she smiled at him and blushed and the reason Gemma blushed was because she knew exactly what he was thinking.
James was thinking about how he had undressed her and ravished her that morning, and at that moment in the summer sunshine so was she.
Gemma also knew that he was going to do it again as soon as the opportunity presented itself, and she couldn’t wait for that moment, her whole body tingled just thinking about it.
It was a year and a half since they had first met and the thought of making love with him still made her quiver with anticipation.
(Part 02)
“Let’s go out on the boat”
John suggested, though Elaine wasn’t at all impressed by the idea and threw him a glare, she had just got herself settled on a lounger after clearing away after lunch.
Despite Elaine’s displeasure however the general consensus was in favour of cruising on the River.
So with almost all agreeing with John’s suggestion, Gemma was excitedly gathering everything together off the terrace as the group slowly made their way to the jetty, she loved going out on the boat it was her idea to buy it when they bought the house on the River.
But James stopped her in her tracks when he took hold of her hand
“Haven’t you forgotten something?” he said
She had a quick look around the terrace
“I don’t think so” she said
“I do” James insisted
“What?” Gemma asked a little confused
“Well you know how breezy it gets out on the water?” he asked cryptically
“Yes” she replied still confused.
Then a look of comprehension spread across her face.
“I’ll get a cardigan” she said and James laughed
“I wasn’t thinking of that”
“What then?” she giggled
“Well you’re out on the windy water wearing your pretty yellow dress” he said
“Yes”
“And underneath it?”
“Oh” she exclaimed finally comprehending
“Everyone will see my knickers”
She chuckled and gave him the armful of bits she had gathered and rushed off to change.
James followed her into the house a few moments later and dropped the pile of bits she had given him on the first surface he passed and went upstairs.
When he opened the bedroom door James found Gemma sitting on the end of the bed in her yellow underwear pulling a pair of shorts over her ankles.
He sat on the bed next to her and as she leant forward he unhooked her bra.
“We haven’t got time for that” she said with a giggle
“I would hope we will always have time for that” he said running his hand across her naked back and Gemma responded by kicking off her shorts.
She bounced to her feet and her bra fell to the ground and then everything she had bounced and James eyes focused on her tits.
She pushed James backwards on the bed and grabbed his belt and hurriedly began undoing his trousers.
“We’ll have to be quick” she said with a look of intense concentration on her face.
“Ta Da” Gemma said gleefully as she roughly pulled his pants and trousers down and released the beast.
She paused momentarily to admire her handiwork then she wriggled out of her yellow knickers and in an instant she was on top of him and thrusting her eager loins onto him.
“You brazen harlot” he said gratefully, though she was lost in the moment and thought how different this girl was to the shy frumpy girl he had first met in the fog
Holding hands, James and Gemma ran headlong down the lawn towards the jetty.
Gemma was now wearing pale blue shorts and a matching top which also matched everything else.
“Where have you two been?” Elaine shouted crossly as they ran onto the jetty.
“Gemma needed to change and I was attending to security” James said as he helped Gemma on board the Cabin Cruiser and then squeezed her buttock as she passed him, and she turned around and kissed him before heading to the bow to join the other girls who were already sitting on towels sunning themselves.
“All that time for a couple of windows and a door?” Karen asked tongue in cheek
“James is very thorough” Gemma replied and blushed
“I bet he is” Karen added
James meanwhile had joined the menfolk in the cockpit
“I admire your diligence” Graham said as he reversed the 26ft cruiser away from the jetty “security is so important”
“I know what you were attending to James” John said “and it wasn’t security, you dirty pair”
And their laughter echoed across the water.
It was a beautiful sunny day in the village of Dulcet-on-Brooke where James Herring sat on his sunny terrace looking at the girl in the yellow dress, a beautiful girl with her brunette hair cascading onto the sun kissed skin of her shoulders.
The Sun Terrace James was sitting on looked out across an expanse of lawn which ran down to the bank of the River Brooke.
But he had eyes only for Gemma who was the gorgeous girl wearing the pretty yellow dress, which he found deliciously attractive, and rather arousing but then that may have been because he knew she was wearing matching yellow underwear beneath it.
And the reason James knew what underwear was beneath the dress on the beautiful girl was because he had watched her getting dressed that morning.
Twice in fact, because after the first time he undressed her again and made love to her.
And at that precise moment on the Terrace he looked forward to slipping them off her again, and soon.
Yet this brown haired beauty only a year previously had been to all intents and purposes a dowdy frump.
Her name then was Gemma Cumber but that was before she married James.
They had met in the fog on the banks of Teardrop Lake, he was there for the sailing and she was on a walking break.
And on the day they first met, Gemma was dressed in stout old fashioned brogues, long argyle socks, grey tweed skirt and a shapeless sweater of indeterminate colour, which was very drab in the foggy gloom although she would have looked drab even in bright sunshine so drab really summed her up.
Her hair was tied in a bun beneath a tweed cap that matched the skirt and she appeared to be dressed for the 1930s and looked about forty.
Unfortunately the fog came down so thick and fast it wasn’t safe to try and move in any direction so they sat down and waited for the fog to disperse.
It was only as they sat on some rocks in the fog and shared her provisions, packed for her day’s adventure, that he saw and fell in love with the girl beneath the façade and discovered that beneath the frumpy exterior his soul mate was hidden from view.
And in the year since that day by the lake they had been the happiest either of them had ever been.
But on that warm summer’s day they were in the back garden of their first home together and they were entertaining guests.
So apart from James and Gemma, in the party were James’s brother John and his wife Elaine, and Elaine’s sister Karen and her partner Graham.
He was smiling as he watched her and when she looked up she smiled at him and blushed and the reason Gemma blushed was because she knew exactly what he was thinking.
James was thinking about how he had undressed her and ravished her that morning, and at that moment in the summer sunshine so was she.
Gemma also knew that he was going to do it again as soon as the opportunity presented itself, and she couldn’t wait for that moment, her whole body tingled just thinking about it.
It was a year and a half since they had first met and the thought of making love with him still made her quiver with anticipation.
(Part 02)
“Let’s go out on the boat”
John suggested, though Elaine wasn’t at all impressed by the idea and threw him a glare, she had just got herself settled on a lounger after clearing away after lunch.
Despite Elaine’s displeasure however the general consensus was in favour of cruising on the River.
So with almost all agreeing with John’s suggestion, Gemma was excitedly gathering everything together off the terrace as the group slowly made their way to the jetty, she loved going out on the boat it was her idea to buy it when they bought the house on the River.
But James stopped her in her tracks when he took hold of her hand
“Haven’t you forgotten something?” he said
She had a quick look around the terrace
“I don’t think so” she said
“I do” James insisted
“What?” Gemma asked a little confused
“Well you know how breezy it gets out on the water?” he asked cryptically
“Yes” she replied still confused.
Then a look of comprehension spread across her face.
“I’ll get a cardigan” she said and James laughed
“I wasn’t thinking of that”
“What then?” she giggled
“Well you’re out on the windy water wearing your pretty yellow dress” he said
“Yes”
“And underneath it?”
“Oh” she exclaimed finally comprehending
“Everyone will see my knickers”
She chuckled and gave him the armful of bits she had gathered and rushed off to change.
James followed her into the house a few moments later and dropped the pile of bits she had given him on the first surface he passed and went upstairs.
When he opened the bedroom door James found Gemma sitting on the end of the bed in her yellow underwear pulling a pair of shorts over her ankles.
He sat on the bed next to her and as she leant forward he unhooked her bra.
“We haven’t got time for that” she said with a giggle
“I would hope we will always have time for that” he said running his hand across her naked back and Gemma responded by kicking off her shorts.
She bounced to her feet and her bra fell to the ground and then everything she had bounced and James eyes focused on her tits.
She pushed James backwards on the bed and grabbed his belt and hurriedly began undoing his trousers.
“We’ll have to be quick” she said with a look of intense concentration on her face.
“Ta Da” Gemma said gleefully as she roughly pulled his pants and trousers down and released the beast.
She paused momentarily to admire her handiwork then she wriggled out of her yellow knickers and in an instant she was on top of him and thrusting her eager loins onto him.
“You brazen harlot” he said gratefully, though she was lost in the moment and thought how different this girl was to the shy frumpy girl he had first met in the fog
Holding hands, James and Gemma ran headlong down the lawn towards the jetty.
Gemma was now wearing pale blue shorts and a matching top which also matched everything else.
“Where have you two been?” Elaine shouted crossly as they ran onto the jetty.
“Gemma needed to change and I was attending to security” James said as he helped Gemma on board the Cabin Cruiser and then squeezed her buttock as she passed him, and she turned around and kissed him before heading to the bow to join the other girls who were already sitting on towels sunning themselves.
“All that time for a couple of windows and a door?” Karen asked tongue in cheek
“James is very thorough” Gemma replied and blushed
“I bet he is” Karen added
James meanwhile had joined the menfolk in the cockpit
“I admire your diligence” Graham said as he reversed the 26ft cruiser away from the jetty “security is so important”
“I know what you were attending to James” John said “and it wasn’t security, you dirty pair”
And their laughter echoed across the water.
Monday, 3 April 2017
Choice Tales from the Vale – (020) In His Favourite Chair
(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.
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.
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.
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