Choice Tales from the Vale – (293) Keep it in the Family

 

Sharpington-by-Sea is a traditional seaside resort complete with a Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, the Palladium ballroom, well maintained gardens, promenade, theatre and illuminations, all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as Sharpington Fun Park which was the first purpose built amusement park to open in Britain, which had an assortment of rides, like the Rotor and the Wild Mouse, The Cyclone and the Morehouse Galloper, all very tame compared to 21st century roller coasters, but still fun.

It was also a popular resort for retirees and boasted a number of static caravan parks but there were also more adult pursuits to be had and James Staley was the owner and manager of the Tainted Angel club which catered for the more seedier tastes.

 

It may have been an unsavoury business, but James was very successful at it, but he worked long hours.

He had been married to his long-suffering wife Lianne for ten years and they were happy, but she desperately wanted a child, and because of his success at the club there was no need for her to work so as a result she was bored.

So, she compensated by drinking, and she drank a lot, firstly she did it in secret but eventually she drank all the time and to the point that she needed to go to rehab where she had been for three weeks. 

His coping mechanism for his wife’s absence was to work even longer hours and the response of his wife’s family was to send a succession of family members to look after the house and make sure he was looked after.

His current minder was Lianne’s youngest sister, 18-year-old student, Charlotte who he found to be a little over familiar, which made him feel uncomfortable, so he worked even later in order to avoid her.

 

It was 3 am when he drove up on the drive and was surprised to see there was still a light burning in the window, so he got out of the car and went inside not knowing whether she was waiting for him inside.

But when he went in, all was quiet, so he made his way upstairs where the landing light was still burning and as he passed the guest room, he noticed the light from the landing had flooded into the room causing him to do a double take because in the centre of the room, directly in front of him was the perfectly illuminated, pert round naked arse of his young sister-in-law Charlotte.

He pushed the door wide open to reveal the sumptuous scene of her laying with her back to him on the bed in the foetal position, and her naked body was only partially covered by a duvet.

He found himself walking over to the bed where he put his hand on one of her firm buttocks, which was cold to his touch, so he began caressing the cold fleshy cheek and it eventually began to warm, as did he.

And after he finished caressing her around the full curve of her buttocks his fingers reached her hot pussy and Charlotte began to stir as his fingertips lightly traced around her lips before he entered the creamy heat between them, and she murmured in her sleep as he continued stroking her juicy heat which was when she gasped. 

“Ohhhh” she said, “I knew you wanted me” and she grabbed his spare hand and pulled it up to her breast and squeezed his hand onto her globe as he continued frigging her.

 

Suffice is to say he totally succumbed to her that night, despite his misgivings and the fourteen-year age gap and he felt no guilt when he left her bed to climb into his own, its true to say that she was not a virgin when he left her room, but in his defence, she wasn’t a virgin when he entered it, or for that matter when he entered her.

Choice Tales from the Vale – (292) Auto Suggestion

Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the north, but it’s in the Village of Great Trotwood where the participants of the tale live their lives.

 

Colin Wild was the Curate of St Timothy’s in Great Trotwood and he was conducting a rather salacious affair with a wealthy married woman, Candice Robinson, whose husband was a local bigwig.

“Hello darling” she said when he picked up the phone

“Tongues have been wagging about the length of time a tall leggy brunette spent in your house on Friday afternoon”

“Really?” he said and then after a brief pause she added

“Until it immerged that you had been discussing the refurbishment of the church roof”

“People have nasty minds” he responded

“Maybe people suspect you might have a darker side” Candy suggested

“And she’s a very good looking woman, if I were a man I certainly would”

“Candy?” he said in a shocked tone and they both laughed.

“That’s an amazingly sexy image you’ve put in my head by the way” he said

“Really” she responded “and how is that sexy image affecting you?”

“Why don’t we meet in the usual place in ten minutes and you can see for yourself” he said

“I was hoping you’d say that” Candy said “So hold that thought, I’m on my way” 

The “usual” place was in a little carpark in a quiet wood on the outskirts of Little Trottwood and as it happened Candice got there first and had already removed her underclothes by the time the Curate got there.

 

Uncanny Christmas Tales – (007) The Christmas Surprise

It was Christmas 1975 and we had just returned to work after having had our Christmas lunch at the pub, although in truth calling it Christmas Lunch was perhaps a bit of a stretch and makes it sound much grander that it actually was.

In the 1970s pub grub wasn’t very unsophisticated fare and invariably consisted of Chicken in a Basket or a Ploughman’s.

The more up market establishments might well offer Scampi in a Basket and a selection of Ploughman’s including a variety of cheeses as alternatives to the normal cheddar.

The Pig and Whistle however was not an up-market establishment in any way shape or form and offered Chicken in a Basket or cheddar cheese Ploughman’s, however in addition to that, as it was Christmas you got a Mince Pie as well.

So, after our “Christmas Lunch” we all arrived back at work with some of our number much the worse for drink.

I myself had perhaps overindulged to a small degree with an unspecified number of Light and Bitters, so as a consequence I was wearing beer goggles and even scabby Carole was looking passable.

So was Wonky Wendy, so called because she had a wonky eye, she had one eye that looked at you while the other one was looking for you. 

Ok I admit “Wonky” wasn't a very imaginative nickname but there you have it, it was the 70s and we were simple folk, well anyway through beer goggles even she looked quite appetising.

Another of the girls I wouldn’t normally have looked at twice was Pat Warner.

Although she had nice eyes and a pretty smile, other than that she was a plain looking girl about a year younger than me, and over the previous year Pat had made no secret of the fact that she fancied me.

I on the other hand did not fancy her and not because she was plain or because she was stick thin and featureless or even because she was ginger the truth was, she just didn’t do it for me.

However, that was without the benefit of alcohol fuelled lust.

 

On returning to the factory, we continued the party in the canteen, my tipple of choice from what was available was Light Ale while for Pat it was Port and Lemon and that day, we both necked a few, and with every bottle of beer I drank Pat was getting prettier and prettier.

It reached a point that when she went off to the loo, I followed a few minutes later and intercepted her as she returned and took her in the rubber room, no not that kind of rubber, it was the room where the rubber bands were sorted and counted.

It was a small room about 20’ square with glass on two sides but with the lights off it was dark enough in the shadows for what I had in mind.

As soon as the door closed behind us though she was all over me like a rash and her tongue was in my mouth like an Excocet, and her hand went straight to my fly.

“Blimey you're keen” I thought to myself

I thought I had better join in quick and yanked her blouse from the waist band of her skirt and partly unbuttoned it before going in search of her tits.

It was when I found them, such as they were, I made a startling discovery.

When I got my hand on her breast, I found something I wasn’t expecting, and no, it wasn’t anything to do with Scaramanga.

What I found was something altogether different.

Now I was just a callow youth and I wasn’t hugely experienced in the ways of the world, but I had had sufficient experience of breasts to know that nipples shouldn’t be hairy.

“This needs further investigation” I thought and proceeded to complete the unbuttoning of the blouse.

, and then I steered her gently around, so the meagre light fell across her equally meagre and exposed breast.

I broke away from her mouth and let her tongue my ear instead while I looked down at her tiny breast surmounted with a perfectly formed swollen nipple surrounded by two-inch-long curly ginger hairs.

“That can’t be right” I thought

But a moment later Pat wrestled my old chap from my jeans and began tugging on it, this distracted me from the hairy nipple as with my penis in her hand she got my full attention, so my hand abandoned her hairy tit and headed south.

I got my hand up her skirt easy enough and was attempting to get it into her knickers when she said

“No” and pushed my hand away

I kissed her again and after a few moments I tried once more to invade her pants, I even managed to get my fingertips beneath the elastic of her knicker leg that time before she stopped me again.

“I said no” she reaffirmed

“Why not?” I asked

“Because you have a girlfriend” she replied

Well, I don’t mind telling you I thought it was a bit indelicate of her to mention that I had a girlfriend as she was in a semi darkened room with me and she had my old chap in her hand.

I was about to point out the hypocrisy of her position when the door flew open.

“Aye, aye” Shaft said

Shaft was the foreman, his real name was Ted, but his nickname was Shaft not because he was black but because he was shafting Beryl from picking. 

I did the gentlemanly thing and positioned myself between Ted and Pat so she could redress herself.

It also enabled me to force my stubborn erection back into my jeans which it seemed reluctant to do, he had come out to party and didn’t want to go home early before he had popped his cork.

“I’ve just come for my coat” Ted said with a chuckle as he took his coat off the peg

“Carry on” he said and closed the door.

I would have liked to carry on, but Pat wasn’t going to let me carry on as far as I wanted to, so we went back to the party and that was that.

 

I never had another close encounter with Pat and in the light of the hairy nipples I had no desire to as in the sober light of day I didn’t fancy her.

I should also state that I never ever encountered any other hairy breasted women over the following years.

 

It was many years after the Christmas grope in the Rubber Room that doubts entered my mind that it was anything other than what it appeared, and these doubts first surfaced after I watched a documentary about Ladyboy’s, which I found quite shocking.

You have to remember we were very naïve back in 1970s Stevenage, and we had never heard of Ladyboy’s, we weren’t complete yokels though, we had heard of homosexuals, though no one I knew admitted to ever meeting one.

I always assumed that Pat was short for Patricia but after the documentary I wasn’t so sure, maybe she was really a Patrick.

We tended to take things at face value back then but if I had managed to gain entry into Pat’s knickers I would have known for sure if she was either fish or fowl.

YOU CAN RING MY BELL

 

Do you like making spoons in bed?

Or do you do it on all fours like beasts

Perhaps in the style of the missionaries

Or does she straddle you like a monkey on a stick?

Is she animated when you’re at it?

Thrashing about a lot

Or motionless like a resuscitation doll

Maybe you have her with trembling knees against a wall?

Mounting her roughly from behind

What about the wheelbarrow?

Have you tried that position?

Maybe bondage or spanking is your thing?

Do you play two-way family favorites?

Kissing the inside of her milky white thigh

Before drinking from the velvet cup

Does she enjoy performing orally?

Is her behavior quite low, morally?

Base and sluttish

Or is she prim and proper

Prudish about being rude-ish

 

Maybe it’s not what you do but who you do it with

Vampish or tarty, dumb or smarty

Clear complexioned or spotty

Levelheaded or dotty

Intelligently spectacled

Scantily clad in edibles

What about role playing and dressing up

Does she wear uniforms of cotton or serge?

And do you dress as a centurion

Or a gladiator 

Do you play doctors and nurses?

Or vicars and tarts Master and slave

Butler and parlor maid

Teacher and pupil

Acting out fantasies of filth

Do you do it wearing a hat?

In German helmet and jack boots

Cross dressing perhaps

In a pencil skirt or floral dress

Leather goods or latex or pace

What about toys or sexual aids

No let’s not go there

What about swinging do you fancy that?

Arriving in a Porsche and going home in a Passat

Does she need to be of a certain physical type?

To be of the right dimensions?

Or proportions

Tall and pencil thin

Or perhaps pear shaped or round

An hourglass figure

Or a stick thin anorexic

A particular color eyes

Hair, long, short or none at all

Blonde, brunette or red

Body piercing?

A turn on? Or turn off?

Tattoo’s like wise

Do you like your beaver wild or tamed?

Does a Brazilian look too much like you need a swipe card?

And if it looks like Adolph Hitler’s moustache do you care  

When her breasts are released are, they like airbags deploying

Or are they small and pert just enough for toying

Are you fussy about her appearance?

Or is a pulse all she needs

Perhaps you’re not even that fussy

 

Is she noisy when you’re on the nest?

Perhaps that’s what you like the best

Once she’s warmed up do you make her bellow?

So, you have to turn her over and make her bite the pillow?

What about location does it matter where it’s done

Do you like it to be a public place?

When she’s sitting on your face

Do you like it al fresco in the woods or maybe the park?

Or does a dog sniffing your bum put you off your stroke

At someone’s party under a pile of coats

At the cinema or theatre

Out back in a dark alley way

In the car? We’ve all done it there

All around the house in the bathroom and on the stair

Well, you can do it in the hall or on the kitchen table

Even on the toilet if she doesn’t care

It doesn’t matter what you do to ring each other’s bell

Or where you ring it bloody hell

Just as long as all parties are willing and able

That’s the best thing of all and the most important

And the most exiting when she tells you yes

Choice Tales from the Vale – (291) The Collector

 

Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the north, but it’s in the Village of Great Trotwood where the participants of the tale live their lives.

But Colin Wild had the afternoon off, so he drove into Abbeyvale to do a bit of shopping, nothing major just toiletries and the like, and he got most of what he wanted at Harvey’s Pharmacy, and it was after leaving the shop when he bumped into an acquaintance coming out of a very expensive lingerie establishment.

The nature of that acquaintance was of a more intimate hue than pure friendship, but for proprieties sake they had to maintain the façade of friendship as he was the Curate of St Timothy’s in Great Trotwood and she was wealthy married woman, Candice Robinson, and her husband was a local bigwig.

“Hello darling” she said, and air kissed him, and then she spotted him looking at the designer carrier bag she was carrying.

“No, you can’t look at them” she replied to his unasked question

“Ok I don’t mind seeing them on if you insist” he offered

“You’re incorrigible,” she said

“Is that a maybe?” he asked

Unmoved by his enquiry she shook her head disappointedly.

“You still owe me a pair anyway” she said quietly

“Yes” he agreed “they’re in my glove compartment”

“I’m surprised you haven’t mounted them under glass as a trophy” Candy said

“What a great idea” he said “There’s a great framer in market street, they’ll look great hanging in the Vestry”

“Don’t you dare?” she said laughing

The reason he was in possession of an expensive pair of her slightly soiled black silk knickers was because he had removed them from her tidy bod during a late-night tryst in a quiet wood on the outskirts of Little Trottwood.

However, before she could redress after the act they were almost discovered only minutes after he had withdrawn.

“Have you got time for a coffee?” she asked

“I do” he replied so they went into a coffee house, a nice one, Café Société, not one of the chains, a very swanky establishment.

Colin ordered the drinks as Candice sat in the corner and when he joined her, he said

“I wouldn’t mind adding to my collection” he mused, and she blushed knowing he was referring to her knickers again and then after a few moments she said

“You’re not having the new ones”

“Well, I’ll settle for the ones you’re wearing now” Colin said and smiled as she blushed scarlet

A few minutes later they left the comfort of the plush upholstered sofas and went off to the loo.

 

Twenty minutes later they returned in tandem and Candice walked through the coffee shop sans panties and when she sat down, she giggled.

“Wow that was very saucy” she said “and you know I like saucy”

“How do you feel?” he asked as he fondled the warm silk fabric in his pocket

“I always feel good afterwards” she whispered

“I meant; how do you feel going commando” he explained “in public”

“It felt really dirty” she replied “but in a good way, it’s very liberating”

“Good” he said “I can’t wait until the next time I liberate you”

Choice Tales from the Vale – (290) Family Affairs

 

Sarah Kessler was a hard-working woman who had her own hairdressing business in Abbeyvale, it was only a small concern and was certainly no threat to the Mazzone’s chain of establishment, but it was all hers and she did alright.

But for her birthday her sister Karen bought her a three day, all-inclusive Spa break for her and a friend at the Tipton Manor Hotel and Spa in the north of Downshire County, and they had a great time using the facilities and enjoyed the full range of what was on offer, fitness classes, gym, rock sauna, infra-red sauna, aroma steam room, ice fountain, drench showers, Jacuzzi, a Romanesque pool, Reflexology, Raki, facials, scalp massage, hand massage, Manicure and Pedicure you name it they had it.

But before she went for dinner on the first night she had just enough time to phone home and check in with her boyfriend Chris, who she was missing terribly.

 

Chris Eames loved Sarah very much, but he also loved sex and he didn’t really care who with, and while Sarah was away in Tipton he was entertaining his girlfriend’s sister Karen and was still doing so when the phone rang.

He had Karen laying bent across his lap with her jeggings pulled down around her knees and her skimpy knickers half way down her thighs, all of which left exposed her firm round buttocks still wearing the fresh vivid red hands prints of an excellent spanking her globes had just received.

There was also a very stimulating audible squelching from her pussy where he was frigging it with two fingers and his double-digit ministrations was eliciting some wonderfully pleasurable moans from her when the phone interrupted him, so he picked it up with his dry hand and he saw that it was Sarah,

“Hey babe” Sarah said, “Are you missing me?”

“So much” he said, his fingers still deep into Karen’s wetness

“Are you being good?”

“I am being incredibly good” he replied as he looked down at Karen squirming on his lap, her cheeks jiggling as he fingered her juicy hole, and she came, then Karen turned to look at him and grinned.

Sarah then listed in detail all the things they had done while Karen slithered off his lap and onto her knees, where she set about extricating his cock from his trousers and by the time Sarah had finished the next day’s itinerary Karen’s mouth had engulfed it.

“Ok babe I have to go now” Sarah said, “Behave yourself,”

“I will” he said

“Promise?”

“I promise” he said “Now go and have dinner”

“Ok, bye, love you”

“I love you too” he said and hung up.

He felt no guilt as he looked down at Karen’s head rising and falling on his shaft as his cock was already in her mouth well before he promised to behave.

Choice Tales from the Vale – (288) Creating A Monster

 

She was a perfect example of young womanhood, a sweet angelic countenance, a demure mode of dress, and an air of innocence.

But beneath the virginal exterior beats the heart of an insatiable harlot who can’t get enough of me.

I am the Vicar of St Timothy’s in Dulcet-on-Brooke and chose the angelic, demure, virgin, to be my partner in life, but her sexual appetites are at odds with her spiritual being.

It’s true to say that I am responsible for unleashing the beast, as when I first met her she was still a virgin and remained so until she was twenty-two and we were engaged to be married, but I persuaded her that as we were in a committed relationship, and were engaged, it would be ok if we were to give ourselves to each other.

She reluctantly agreed but once she had succumbed to me that first time, she wanted me all the time, I had created a monster, a beautiful, angelic, demurely dressed innocent looking cock monster.

Once she had lost her virginity she wanted to do it with me at every opportunity, at any time and in any location, even in the church, in fact wherever the mood took her.

And even when she’s on her period, she still likes to play and can be relied upon to satisfy me, with a blowjob, a tit wank or even a hand job.

I don’t want you to think that I am for one moment complaining about her behaviour that is not the reason I’m writing this, far from it, this is perhaps not the done thing, for a Church of England minister to admit, but the reason for my confession is by way of bragging.