MISTAKEN IDENTITY

 

“Bob, go to the Hilton I was told “and meet Sam Barraclough”
A lunchtime meeting at the Hilton sometimes life was tough
I was expecting a Yorkshire man with whippet on a lead you see
With a copy of the pigeon fanciers weekly laying on his knee
A dour Yorkshire man wearing cloth cap and dressed in tweed
So was not prepared for who it was to greet me I must concede
The whippet wielding Yorkshire man had turned out to be
A very pretty young woman who was called Samantha you see
She was actually a stunningly beautiful petite young blonde
The type of delicious creature it was impossible not to be fond
She introduced herself with a broad smile and a hearty hello
I stuttered out my own introduction by way of a quid pro quo
She offered her hand to me in greeting and I accepted it gladly
Her hand was soft and smooth like silk and gripped mine firmly
In my large paw her little hand was almost like that of a child
In silence we continued to shake hands and we both just smiled
We held each other's gaze and hand perhaps too long slightly
We both laughed nervously and her cheeks blushed brightly
She then turned away and bade me follow which was no chore
I followed her exotic heady fragrance out thought the door
Silently she led me down a corridor in the lounge direction
I followed mesmerized by her form and admiring its perfection
Even wearing four-inch heels I marveled at her daintiness
Only reaching the dizzy height of five foot three more or less
The straight blonde hair cascaded onto her shoulders softly
A fitted silk blouse complemented her waif-ish frame perfectly
She had the tiniest of waists and the slenderest of hips to swing
And pert round buttocks contained within the tailored skirting
Then the shapely legs clad in stockings unless I miss my guess
The overall effect was stunning and I was smitten I will confess
Then sunlight illuminated her form through silk and cotton
The sudden transparency left nothing at all to the imagination
Seemingly completely oblivious to the effect she had achieved
On the red-blooded men in her wake she'd never have believed
She stopped by a vacant seat and slowly turned towards me
This caused the illumination of her fine breasts for us to see
The vent on her skirt caught momentarily on a cushion pad
A glimpse of her stocking top confirmed the suspicion that I had
She effortlessly and elegantly slipped into the vacant place
And gestured for me to sit beside her in the neighboring space
Not coy she sat straight-backed upright confident and proud
Her voice was strangely hypnotic clear and soft but not loud
Once again I was completely enveloped in her intoxicating scent
Then she opened her briefcase and deftly removed the document
Like a precious work of art I had admired her from a distance
Now I could examine in detail every brushstroke every nuance
Her blonde hair cascaded onto her slim shoulders like fine rain
The sun was highlighting strands like spun gold again and again
The golden rain tumbled to caress the nape of her neck gently
Coming to rest on her soft silk covered shoulders diffidently
I was transfixed by the vision of golden hair framing her face
Of pale alabaster like porcelain on a doll or like a Greek grace
Her eyes stunning and captivating were of translucent green
And her nose was small and angular sat perfectly in between
Her mouth was only narrow but the lips were full and luscious
As she spoke the pale pink lips glistened moistly and sensuous
I would blush to my roots if our eyes met however fleetingly
And then a smile would dance about her mouth provocatively
I turned my attention to her slim pale arms naked and bare
The suns illumination fringing like white gold the downy hair
Then her small delicate hands with fingers so elegant and slim
No bitten or false nails just naturally well cared for and prim
Also no rings adorned her fingers in fact there was no jewelry
But then no jewelry could ever improve on this beauty before me
Suddenly she dropped her pen and leant forwards to retrieve it
Causing her blouse to gape revealing her breast well just a bit
Just the briefest glimpse of breast with a hint of lace and frill
Enough to quicken the pulse and excite the senses and thrill
Then she catches me letching and smiles as I avert my gaze
Now it's her milky white flesh that blushes in a crimson blaze
All to soon our short business meeting was at a close and done
I felt her soft and delicate hand in mine and then she was gone
So blinded by her beauty and intoxicated by her sweet perfume
I could barely stammer out a sentence before she left the room
I was left with only the exotic fragrance lingering about me
Feeling quite despondent and in a strange way quite empty
In my hand I found her business card as you would expect
Then I turned it over like you would to more closely inspect
A hand written note and number is not what I thought to see
Here's my number, call me soon, I'd like to see you socially

Choice Tales from the Vale – (025) When Aunty Ruth Came To Visit

 

The Dawkins Family lived in the village of Pangmere situated on the Finchbottom Road between Mornington and Finchbottom.

Julian and Sheila were the Licensees of the Red Lion and their children, twins Brian and Karen, went to college in Finchbottom.

The family had lived at the Red Lion since the children were little and they were very happy there and Julian and Sheila had really turned the place around.

And all during that time they had a number of regular visitors, friends and family alike, but the most regular of them all was Ruth Murton, or Aunty Ruth as the children had always called her, although she wasn’t their real Aunty, she was their mum’s best and oldest friend who was a few years younger than Sheila.

In the early days when she first started to visit Pangmere she was with her husband Paul, but the Murton’s divorced when the twins were 12 years old.

Ruth was a real beauty and oozed sexuality and by the time the twins reached their teens Brian had started to see her as something other than his aunty and when he had his first wet dreams it was Aunty Ruth he was dreaming of.

And all his earliest contributions to his wank bank were the sensual images of Aunty Ruth.

For a young adolescent during his sexual awakening she was manna from heaven.  
What a sight she was, with her long blond hair and generous bosom with the flattering sweep of her hips and the roundness of magnificent buttocks and long shapely legs, who wouldn’t be impressed and horny at the sight of her.
For Brian the whole package made a most wonderful vision of sexuality which gladdened his young man’s eye and stirred his teenage loins.

 

It was from around about the time Brian turned 14 that Ruth first became aware of the effect she was having on him and she was so flattered that she even began to give him little treats.

She would show him a generous expanse of shapely stockinged leg or bend over in front of him and give him the full benefit of her great round arse or present him with the vision of her gaping blouse and its overstuffed contents.

Brian really looked forward to her visits and as he got older and Ruth realised she was still able to affect him she began visiting more and more often because the truth of the matter was that it really excited her to be able to make him squirm in his seat and cause a bulge in his pants almost at will, which she always noticed, as much as he tried to hide it from her.

Ruth wasn’t excited by arousing a young man because she was frustrated or anything of that nature, looking as she did she was not short of male attention and her generous heart was fulfilled romantically and emotionally and she was very well served in the bedroom.

So because her power over him excited her so much Ruth decided for his 16^th birthday she would give him a very special birthday present, and reward herself at the same time.

Aunty Ruth positioned herself, as usual, on the sofa opposite the chair Brian was sitting in.

She knew instantly that she had his attention so she slowly crossed her legs and exposed a tantalising expanse of thigh from her knee up to her stocking top.

As she sat in the lounge with the birthday boy and his family she repeated the manoeuvre time after tantalising time and Brian’s eyes were transfixed on Ruth’s delightful tableaux and then another adjustment of her posture disclosed not only both her stocking tops but everything beyond because she was naked underneath.
Brian could see right up her dress all the way up to her hairy heath he glanced up and Ruth was looking at him and smiling and Brian went very red indeed but he couldn’t stop looking at her and his eyes quickly returned to her muff.

They found themselves alone then and Ruth upped the stakes when she began slowly opening her legs, wider and wider, showing him more and more until finally he could see everything and he filled his pants with his seed.    

He wasn’t sure at first if she realised he had just creamed his boxers but when she smiled broadly at him he knew and he was so embarrassed, but he couldn’t leave, not while she was watching because although he had emptied his sac his erection was still very much in evidence.

Ruth felt no embarrassment whatsoever but what she did feel was exceptionally horny, she always ended up turned on when she played her little games with Brian but watching him shoot his load in front of her she really got her wet.

And when she noticed the damp patch on his jeans she decided she was going to have him.

But she knew it couldn’t be then, but she was resolved it was going to happen.

In the mean time she would have to meet up with one of her regular partners to quell the fire that Brian had ignited in her.

 

It was just over two years later when Ruth got her way or more precisely had her way.

It was a Friday afternoon when Brian arrived home alone from college, Karen was staying in Childean at a friend’s house.

His mum Sheila was in the bar and his dad was at the Cash and Carry.

“Hi love” Sheila said as he walked in.

“Hi Mum” he replied “I’ll get changed and give you a hand”         

“No rush love” She said to him, so he went upstairs to his room to get changed out of his college clothes, but he realised he was not the only one upstairs after all and as he passed the spare room he looked in and saw Auntie Ruth in stockings and a silk camisole holding a glass of wine and wearing a seductive smile.

In typical teenager fashion the sight of the object of his lust Aunty Ruth in her underwear brought an immediate swelling to his trousers which Aunty Ruth was only too pleased to deal with.

And over the following twelve months Aunty Ruth dealt with many such swellings as she continued his sexual education until he went off to University and then two years after that Ruth tragically died in a car accident in Abbottsford.

But Brian never forgot Aunty Ruth nor did he lose his taste for the more mature lady and when he married in his mid-twenties it was to a woman 15 years older than he was.

MISS TUNNEY

 

Hey there Miss Tunney
You're quite a honey
With a disposition sunny
And sense of humour, funny
So cute just like a bunny
I'd pay a deal of money
Just to taste your cunny

Freya St David, 17 – Goddess Of Beauty

 

“Oh Jon, I love you” Freya said in the seconds following her orgasm.

And in response he kissed her hot panting mouth and replied.

“I love you too”

That was an entirely unexpected outcome for Freya, the thought that she loved him had never even crossed her mind.

She knew that she liked him from the first moment she met him but was that love? 

To her great relief Jon said that he loved her too, but did he?

In the post coital hours they discussed at length the implications of their declarations and the basis on which they made them.

The outcome of their deliberations was that they were indeed in love and were victims of love at first sight.

This was something they had both heard of but didn’t actually believe was possible in reality.

They thought it was just the stuff of Romantic comedies.

However the implications of their joint declarations were self-evident and before they made love for a second time Jon made and Freya accepted his proposal of marriage.

Jon had never felt so proud and Freya had never known such happiness.

 

The wedding date was set for May and would take place in St Hilda’s church in Tipton, the village of her birth.

Her parents were ecstatic when Freya broke the news to them and when she introduced Jon to them they fell in love with him as well.

   

Freya St David, slender and pale skinned with strawberry blonde hair stood five foot nothing tall and was whippet thin and her mother was just an older version of her daughter.

Freya was twenty eight years old but looked much younger and her mum was beginning to think the day would never come when she could hand down to her daughter her own wedding dress.

 

Freya had been a singleton since her louse of a boyfriend, who she fully expected 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.

That was until the day when she was on her district nurse rounds and she met Captain Jon Hardman.

 

When her mum handed Freya the dress box she said

“You are the spit of me when I got married, I’d love you to wear this”

“What is it?” Freya asked

“Open it and see” she replied

Freya opened the box and her eyes widened as she unfolded it

“It’s beautiful” she said with tears welling up in her eyes

“Absolutely beautiful”

When she put it on it was a perfect fit and it was her mums turn to cry as her beautiful daughter wore her mother’s beautiful dress.

 

Freya stayed at her parents’ house on the night before the wedding and Jon stayed at a nearby Hotel.

But at about 9 o’clock she put on her raincoat and said to her parents

“I’m just going out for a bit”

“Is everything ok love?” her dad asked

“Yes dad” she replied “I just need some air”

“Don’t be late back” her mum said “big day tomorrow”

“Don’t worry I won’t be late to bed” she replied and closed the door.

She drove the three miles to the Black Hog Hotel and went upstairs to room twelve and knocked on the door.

“Come in” he called and she opened the door.

Jon was lying on the bed in his dressing gown watching TV.

“Hello soldier boy” Freya said in her best London street walker voice.

“Hello darling” he said as she walked over to his side of the bed and kissed him.

“What are doing here?” he asked

Freya stood up and stood in front of the window and drew the curtains.

“I’ve come to show you what I’ll be wearing tomorrow” she said as she undid the belt on her raincoat

“I thought it was bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding day”

“Well traditionally yes” she said “but this is for the groom’s eyes only”

And Freya let the coat fall to the floor.

Jon gasped as he looked at her standing with her back to him wearing white stockings, suspenders and a silk teddy.  

“Do you think it will be bad luck to see me like this?” she asked coyly as she turned around to face him.

“Oh no not at all” he said

“Tonight it’s your good luck” she said and straddled him

His hands immediately found their way to her stocking tops and his fingers caressed the naked white flesh of her thighs.

“Am I going to get lucky tonight?” she asked and undid the belt on his dressing gown and pulled the two half open like the covers of a great tome.

“Oh yes I am” she said answering her own question after she had exposed his erection then she slipped the straps of her teddy off her shoulders and exposed her tiny breasts

“You’re a very naughty girl” Jon said and began to undo the poppers on the crotch of her teddy, one by one until there was no restriction of access.

Jon slid his hands under the teddy and sought out her plump little cheeks.

Freya leant forward and kissed him

“Just help yourself soldier boy” she said in the tarts voice

“I think I will” he replied and as he fondled her cheeks he kissed her breasts and took her little rosebud nipples between his lips.

Freya meanwhile was stroking his shaft and when he took a firmer hold of her buttocks and pulled her towards him she took that as a sign.

So with a look of intense concentration on her face Freya climbed aboard her husband to be.

This was not a tender loving union this was barely controlled lust he was firmly gripping her hips as she rode him like a jockey riding a galloping horse down the home straight.

All he could do was hold on and stare and her jiggling tits as she galloped on.

Then their eyes met and they both smiled as the strawberry haired Philly took them both across the finish line.

“Can we do it like that again tomorrow night?” he said

“Tomorrow night you can have me in the dress” Freya replied

 

Afterwards he completely undressed her and then he made love to her like he did the first time when they declared their love for each other.

LE BICYCLETTE DE BELSIZE

 

As I drive home from work, with the evening
sun still beating down hot on the windscreen, I
come to an abhorrent obstruction in the
road, a cyclist the worst site to any driver with
somewhere to go and a finite time
to get there. I was driving down a very
narrow lane following a cyclist that I
knew I couldn't pass when I noticed the cyclist
for the first time, her brown hair dancing across
her shoulders contrasting starkly with the white of
the cotton blouse which tapered down to her
narrow waist before disappearing into
the waist band of her gray checked skirt.
I pondered briefly on the name of the pattern
was it “Hounds tooth, Prince of Wales, then the cloth
stretched tight against her cheeks as she was stood
up in the saddle as we climbed the hill, her long
tanned legs powering her on and her
buttocks reshaped themselves again
and again, I could only imagine what
was happening in front of her out of my
view, then the material was tight against her
curves once more as her bottom perched
back on the saddle and every bump in the road
brought a new quiver to her plaid clad cheeks
and a delicious new tingling to my loins
then all at once the lane ended and she was gone
down a path went the girl and the bike she sat upon

MELISA WITH THE GAPING BLOUSE

 

Melisa with the gaping blouse
With fabric formed tight
Around her unfettered breasts
Her aroused nipples
Standing proud
Like sentinels
She walked slowly toward me
Breasts bouncing
Sensuously with every step
Rising and falling
Attracting every eye

 

Melisa with the gaping blouse
Was closer to me now
The crisp white cotton
Of her blouse disappeared
Into the waistband of her skirt
A tight grey skirt
As she walked closer
I could hear the rustle of her clothes
Her blouse
Her skirt
Her stockings
I hoped they were stockings

 

Melisa with the gaping blouse
Flicked her eyes
In my direction
Holding my gaze
For only a moment
In a knowing glance
As good as a promise
Then walked past me
I turned to see her
Walking slowly away
Her stilettos clicking
Her hips swinging
To and fro
And her Buttocks
Forming and reforming
With every step

 

Melisa with the gaping blouse
Beat out a sexual rhythm
A sensual rhythm
A primeval rhythm
Making my pulse race
And my loins ache
And I followed her
Matching her rhythm
My temples throbbed
As blood rushed elsewhere
In a perfect rhythm
Engorging me
As she reached her door
She turned to me smiling
And proffered her hand
Gratefully I took it
Then she led me to paradise

Choice Tales from the Vale – (024) Are You Wearing Stockings?

 

 

Carl Rogers was in Beiderbecke’s, a seedy Jazz Club in an equally seedy corner of Finchbottom.

It was just approaching 11 pm when he arrived and he already had several drinks under his belt and he had just ordered another drink at the bar when he spied her in the gloom, their eyes met across the room and he knew he wanted her.

Sarah Ellis had seen him come in and instantly liked what she saw and she had waited to catch his eye and when she did Sarah knew he was hooked.

“Are you wearing stockings?” he asked himself as she got up and walked towards him.

Sarah had to weave in between tables and as she moved slalom like, the answer changed almost with every step from no to yes and back again, and when she shuffled sideways through a narrow gap he thought her buttocks might show but her hips would only say “guess”.

Stockings or not, Carl liked what he saw as she got closer, it was lust at first sight, they didn’t speak as she took hold of his hand and led him from the club and out into the night.

Together they painted the town red and after a wild night of carousel Sarah suggested they go back to her apartment, ostensibly to quell her burning arousal, but it was a mutual wanting.
A primeval burning passion which was ignited the moment they laid eyes on one another.
A need for intimate physicality, a time to enjoy each sensation.

“Are you wearing stockings?” he asked himself again as he contemplated the sexy woman in front of him.

He held his breath as he unzipped her dress and it dropped to the floor and then he was rewarded with the sight he had hoped for.

There was a moment’s hesitation as they stood face to face in the semi darkness of her apartment and then primitive and animal they touched in coarse embrace.

Carl fingered her through the silk of her pants until she moaned into his mouth and then Sarah sighed in anticipation as he pulled her wet pants down her long stocking clad thighs and purred as his hand returned to her moist lips and he probed her creamy-ness, rhythmically stroking her until he brought her to the abyss.

He pushed her onto the sofa and knelt before her as she bit her lip as she waited for his next move and then his mouth set off on a quest to kiss his way slowly along her leg up to her stocking top, to softness of her inner thigh, and then sort out her dewy prize and tasted her tangy musk.

Carl consumed her until she shuddered and let out a stifled shout then
Sarah sat up and quickly unzipped him, quickly and roughly tugged him out as she kissed him with urgency and she could taste herself on his lips and tongue, and she stopped kissing him, licked her lips and smiled.

Sarah pushed him back on the floor and she fell on him and her mouth was all about him and as she sucked on his shaft he was transported as she sucked him to the point of ecstasy.

He was beginning to lose control and thought to himself
“Will she drink her fill of me? Will she wear my pearl necklace? Or will her loin’s envelope me?”

The answer to his question quickly came as she climbed on board him and rode him like a dervish and extracted every drop from him until he could give no more, and then they lay entwined on the floor of her apartment enjoying the afterglow with their passions well spent.