ISLE OF LOVE

 

The scent of jasmine and honeysuckle was
Everywhere, drifting on the afternoon breeze
Filling my nostrils and catching in my dry throat
The ice in my drink chinked out a melody and
Beckoned me, my companion sat on the veranda
She turned her head to me as I approached
I leant down and kissed the nape of her neck
The downy hairs stood up and I kissed again
She met my gaze and smiled coyly then looked down
At her lap, so my eyes wandered to the
Gaping fabric of her silk dress and the soft
Roundness of her within. I watched as
Her nipples aroused either by the cooling
Air or at the knowledge of my gaze, no matter
I felt no shame at the beholding of her
She looked up at me with beguiling eyes
Her eyes said our drinks could wait awhile
I took her hand and returned her smile

Freya St David, 15 – Goddess Of Divination

 

Freya St David stood barely five feet tall and was slender and pale and the evening sun shone on her strawberry blonde hair.

Freya was twenty-eight years old but looked much younger and as a result she was much desired, and she was a first class flirt.

She was a singleton since her louse of a boyfriend, who she expecting to marry was now history, she had suspected for some time that he was shagging her best friend then out of the blue he confessed to her one night. 

From that moment on Freya took her pleasures where she found them.

She was a district nurse, a very pretty district nurse and was very experienced and well respected.

 

Freya’s head was in a spin because she had finally had word from Captain Hardman.

It was strange the effect of not hearing from him for so long, after all she had only met him twice, once briefly at the home of one of her patients and a second time at the Summer Ball. 

Yet he had filled her thoughts every day since the Ball.

His regiment had left Afghanistan and because it had been a particularly bloody tour, which had cost 11 dead and 8 wounded from the Downshire’s it was currently in Germany for R&R before returning to the UK.

This initial contact from the Captain prompted a flurry of emails between the two of them.

But this was happy news for Freya, and she looked forward to him coming home.

However, the obvious happiness she felt over his return was tempered by the affair of the dead schoolgirl.

Freya had witnessed the accident and rendered first aid and subsequently followed up the case at the Churchill Hospital.

 

Sadly, the girl, Pauline Yeo, a student at a local boarding school, Carrington Chase, had been mortally injured when she was hit by a car.

The parents were in Hong Kong at the time, and they were not expected to arrive in the UK before the girl passed.

Freya was horrified that a twelve-year-old girl was going to die alone and she was further angered by the fact that the girls school weren’t prepared to send anyone to be with Pauline as she slipped away.

It was Freya who sat with her through the night and was holding her hand as she died.

She really wanted to tell the Yeo’s how appallingly the school had behaved to Pauline but couldn’t bring herself to impose on their grief.

So she decided instead to try to get the interest of the newspapers but even the “Sunday News” a paper known less than affectionately as the “Sunday Screws” brushed her off.

She was given the name of a freelance journalist Bob Philips who was renowned for being tenacious and he took all the information,

a copy of the medical file, a sworn statement by the attending physician Dr Gossage and most damning of all the recording of the telephone conversation with the headmistress Ms Hardacre, and wrote the story but even he was blocked at every turn.

And the words of the headmistress Ms Hardacre echoed in her head.

“This school has a lot of friends to deal with the likes of you”

And clearly those friends were being well employed.

So she used her powers of divination and could foresee a solution for Freya had a wealthy and powerful friend of her own.

 

James Boazman was one of her private patients, or more accurately Amanda Boazman was the recipient of her nursing skills and during her time at the house James benefited from Freya’s other talents.

He was a good looking man in his early forties slim and even elegant and he always smelt gorgeous.

“Hello James” she said as he opened the door

“Freya! What a wonderful surprise” James said “Come in”

His poor wife Amanda had passed away some weeks before and she noticed the change in him immediately, the strain had left his eyes and the weight had left his shoulders.

They sat in the lounge and Freya made an impassioned plea for help about how she wanted to give the story to the papers and the way it was being blocked by powerful friends of the school.

Then she played him the recording of the conversation with the headmistress.

“No one at that school cared enough about that poor girl” she said “they were heartless”

“Which journalist did you give the story to?” he asked

“Bob Philips” she replied

“I know Bob, he’s a good man and if he says he’s being blocked then he is being blocked” James said “and someone is definitely using their influence”

He paused for a moment and then said

“However I own the Sunday News”

 

So when everything was settled, James asked something of her, although there was no suggestion of any quid pro quo.

“Could we make love one last time?”

She was reluctant, she had already decided that she would curb her appetites and give, whatever feelings, or the glimmer of feelings, she had for Jonathon Hardman every possible chance to mature.

“When Amanda was alive and we did it, I felt guilty, I felt it was a betrayal”

He went on

“Now I am alone and I could enjoy you guilt free”

“Ok” Freya said as she stood up and took his hand.

Freya led him upstairs to the bedroom where she had nursed Amada.

As soon as they got in the room Freya kicked off her shoes and then steered James to the bed and began undoing his trousers.

After undoing the belt and releasing the button she yanked down the zip and his trousers which descended quickly to his ankles.

Freya then grabbed the waistband of his pants and removed their contents.

She sank to her knees and her mouth engulfed his organ

"oh Freya” he said in blissful enjoyment.

However after a minute or so and before he reached the point of no return he withdrew from her mouth and pulled her to her feet.

He kicked his pants and trousers away and pulled his shirt off over his head.

“Now it’s your turn” he said and he gleefully removed every item until the five foot nothing, whippet thin nymph with the strawberry blonde hair was completely naked.

The pale skinned topography of pink flushed flesh interrupted by a neat ginger triangle

“Now get on the bed,” she ordered and in response James kissed her moistly on the mouth which was quickly curtailed

 “I said get on the bed” she reiterated, “I’m the expert remember, so get on the bed”

He obliged and climbed on the bed and lay in the middle on his back

“And take your socks off” she added a request to which he complied

Freya then climbed on the bed and then on him and with practised expertise impaled herself on him like a piece of meat on a skewer and out of gratitude she rode him until they both reached a satisfying guilt free crescendo.

Afterwards as he watched Freya redressing, he let out a low sigh of contentment.

A week later the Sunday News ran a story on the front page headlined “Scandalous Neglect at Carrington Chase”

IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

Her eyes of velvet hazel brown
Looked at me and then look down
Her nose twitched and she bit her lip
Then she composed herself and took a sip
She fought to suppress it for a while
Then her full lips broke into a smile
I stared at the curvaceousness in her gown
Then her brow furrowed into a frown
Under my gaze her lashes fluttered nervously
her eyebrows raised disapprovingly
as I looked at her figure shamelessly
Picturing her body naked before me
The skin of her cheeks flushed deep red
Then proudly she held up her head
She flicks the brunette strands of hair
Off her face as I stand and stare
I love the beautiful things in life
So what's wrong with ogling my own wife

Choice Tales from the Vale – (022) Woman in Black

 

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.

 

 

IN THE AFTERGLOW

She lay serenely in the afterglow

The sweat of passion spent

Vaporized and no more

Her hair tousled, Frames a peaceful face

The red glow of the cheeks still visible

Her eyes resting, her mouth open slightly

Her full lips still moist, her pale skin smooth

No hint remains of what passed

The contortions of orgasm

Which were etched into her innocent face

Linger no more but shall again soon

She lies beneath a silken sheet

Stretched more tightly across her breasts

Showing them in sharp relief

The cool air from the open window

Arouses her nipples

Which stand proud through the silk

She murmurs in her sleep and squirms in unison

As her arousal continues elsewhere

If her lover does not return

Her satisfaction will be in her own hand 

Choice Tales from the Vale – (021) Dressed in Yellow

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.

 

“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.

I WANTED HER

 

 

She crouched down, almost squatting
To stroke a small dog in the park
As she did her full buttocks
Strained the fabric of her shorts
And I wanted her
When she stood up
She through back her hair from her face
As she did the sunlight caught
The fine blonde strands
And I wanted her
She reached behind her head
To tie back her loose hair
Which pushed her breasts tightly
Against her cotton shirt
And I wanted her
She saw me looking at her
And smiled at me coyly
Then she waved to me, smiling
And I wanted her
Luckily she was my wife