Choice Tales from the Vale – (249) The Purplemere Verger – After Evensong

 

Mark Tams had been in and out of hospital for the ten years following a bad car accident just after his 15th birthday.

But he felt reborn when he and Annette Cook gave each other their innocence.

She was also 25 and was the verger at St Agatha’s where her Uncle, Jim Huggett, was the vicar.

Annette was a beautiful strawberry blonde with pale skin and freckled cheeks with whom he had fallen in love and she with him.

 

Annette worked for the Downshire and District Building Society in the Purplemere branch and Mark worked across the street at the Downshire Journal and when they could they would meet up for lunch.

“Are we going to see each other tonight?” He asked just before they went their separate ways. 

“I have Evensong but we can meet at the vicarage afterwards” she replied

“Deal” Mark said and kissed her goodbye

 

He got back home about 6pm and went home to change before going to the vicarage to meet Annette.

Some days they would travel home together but when she had Evensong she always got an earlier train.

 

As he made the short walk from his home to the vicarage feeling rather proud of himself, proud of her, and proud that she was his girlfriend.

He had fancied her for so long, and the Purplemere Verger ticked all of his boxes and he wanted her to be more than just his girlfriend.

And it wasn’t just because of the sex, which was amazing and getting better all the time, she was his soulmate and he hoped she was his.

He was thinking that hopefully he could bring her from the shadows to bathe in the light of his love and lust.

He would just have to ask her and hope he wouldn’t scare her away.

So as he walked up to the front door of the vicarage he had the ring in his pocket.

But as soon as she opened the door to him he forgot it was there because of the way Annette was dressed, she was still wearing her vestments.

This was not normal, her usual routine was to change in the vestry before going home, but she had not done that, and that distracted him from his proposal because she clearly had a proposal of her own.

He wasn’t sure what she had in store for him but he knew it would be well worth the wait to find out.

If Annette was to give him a salacious invitation to canoodle, it certainly wasn’t going to go unaccepted.

Even if there was a lack of attraction, which there was not, what she was wearing would have done the trick on its own, he liked uniforms and outfits, and even though they were both good Christians her vestments certainly didn’t put him off.

 

It was probably a combination of the fact that she was almost a woman of the cloth, he thought a verger counted, and their faith which made it extra saucy.

The whole prospect of making love a Verger, in costume, had left him quite aroused.

 

He was sitting on the sofa watching her as she flitted around the room with her white surplice over her full length cassock, clumping about in the stout ankle boots with her Barbie pink socks showing above them.

“So where’s the vicar?” he asked innocently

“He’s gone to Mornington to dine with the St George’s at the Manor”

But it was as she bent over to pick up her coat that the realization hit him.

“You’re naked under that cassock aren’t you?” he said and she turned to look at him and blushed.

“You dirty little verger”

In her embarrassment she tried to rush past him but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto the sofa and pinned her down.

She was blushing scarlet red and hid her face behind a cushion.

“So did you do the whole service like that?”

He teased

“No I did not” she said adamantly “I’m not a tart”

“You’re very sexy thought” he said “So when did you divest yourself of your clothes?”

“In the vestry” she replied from behind the cushion

“So you walked from the church like that?” he enquired

“Yes but it was dark and no one could see” Annette said defensively as she emerged from behind the soft furnishings.

“I’m only teasing” he said and laughed

“I don’t think it’s funny” she said and tried to escape his clutches

“Ow” she yelped

“What’s wrong?”

“Something dug in my thigh” she replied

“Oh yes, I almost forgot” he said and reached in his pocket and brought out a ring box

“What’s that?” she asked in a whisper

“Nothing important” he replied

“Then why was it in your pocket?”

“Well it was something I thought you might like but now I’m not so sure” he replied enigmatically

“I’m sure I would like it” she offered

“Well, I don’t know” he mused and then after he thought he had tortured her enough he added

“But as I have it here you might as well see it”

So he opened the box and showed her and she gasped

“It’s beautiful”

“Do you like it?” he asked

“I really do” she replied as she stared at it

“Good” he said and snapped the box shut and put it back in his pocket

“I just wanted your opinion, it’s for Daisy at the petrol station”

“But…” she began in disbelief

“I suppose if you really like it you can have it, but on one condition” he said taking from his pocket

“What condition?” she said sadly

“You have to marry me” he said

“What?”

“You have to marry me” he repeated

“You want to marry me?” she asked in disbelief

“Absolutely” he said “but if you don’t want to I can always ask Daisy”

“Don’t you dare” she said and snatched the box from his hand

“Is that a yes then?” he asked as she slipped the ring on her finger

“Yes, yes, yes” she replied and punctuated each affirmative with a kiss

“Good, now can the dirty verger come out to play?”

Her only reply was to pull the bottom of her cassock up to her knees.

 

As it was a celebratory coupling Annette wanted it to be the same tender way as on their first time.

She began to writhe beneath him and lick her lips as he entered again and he had to work so hard to control the urge to up the tempo as he normally would have done, Mark had to suppress his animal urges, to give her a tender affair, longer in duration and more sensual.

Annette squirmed beneath him as she reached that ecstatic point, the blissful zone between being anchored to the ground and the gravity defying release followed by toe curling orgasm.

She looked up at him as she moaned loudly and writhed beneath him and then she came with a deliciously sweet utterance that spurred him on to his own climax and she cried out

“Oh Mark”

He kissed her hot panting mouth and when their lips parted he asked

“Was that what you had in mind?”

“Yes, sweetheart” she replied then he kissed her again and she wrapped her arms around his neck and let out a rather smug self-satisfied sigh.

Choice Tales from the Vale – (248) Ice Cream Sunday

 

It was a hot sultry Sunday afternoon in Childean and Shelley Lord was as hot and sultry as the weather.

But with the children running in and out every five minutes nothing was going to happen to take the edge off unless she went upstairs and gave herself a cheeky finger.  

So she just carried on watching TV with her husband Frank and tried not to think about cock, but they were watching an episode of “Game of Thrones” so it was proving very difficult. 

“Thank God” She said when she heard the tell-tale chimes of the ice cream van playing “colonel bogey” in Shallowfield Road,

“Nothing says come and get an ice-cream more than “Hitler has only got one ball”“ Frank said as the children came running in from the garden
“Ice cream, Ice cream” they called
“Just a minute kids, Dad will give you some money” Shelley shouted to them and more quietly to Frank she said “Then Daddy can make mummy scream”

Frank gave Shelley a filthy leer and dug around in his shorts pocket and brought out a couple of two pound coins which he handed over to the children and almost before the front door closed Shelley and Frank were out of their seats and heading for the stairs.

Choice Tales from the Vale – (247) Playing the Cellist

 

Erika Dobie loved music, it was her life, and she played cello for the Downshire Symphony Orchestra, but although music was her first love, it wasn’t her only love.

Second place in her heart went to Paul Scott, the only problem was getting him to make a move.

She knew that his reluctance wasn’t because he didn’t feel the same as her it was just that he was desperately shy.

But Erika had lost her heart to Paul and failure to win his was not an option so she put her plan into operation.

 

The Downshire Symphony Orchestra had their headquarters in Finchbottom where they had a large rehearsal space as well as smaller soundproof rooms for individual practice.

Paul was the centre manager for the DSO and was always the last one to leave and always did a walk around before he turned the lights off and locked up.

So it would be late at night and in one of the booths where she would set her trap.

 

So it was late on Friday evening as Paul Scott was doing his rounds that he heard the strains of Bach’s Cello Suite No.1 emanating from one of the small rooms.

It was Paul’s favourite piece so Erika knew it would get his attention.

He peered in through the half open door and his heart skipped a beat as he saw Erika sitting in the middle of the room facing him

The great polished instrument between her long black stocking clad legs, her wavy red hair dancing across her naked shoulders and brushing her alabaster skin and but for her stockings she wore nothing but a smile.

Without speaking he walked into the room and locked the door behind him and his eyes never left her while she played and he circled the beautiful pale skinned cellist perched on a stool and he drank in her nakedness along with the Bach.

After his third circuit he stopped and knelt behind her and kissed her shoulder as his hands cupped her round white breasts.

“Do you like the Bach?” she asked

“I love the Bach” he replied and kissed her neck as his fingertips combed through her ginger bush before descending into her moist crevice.

Erika uttered no protest and continued playing faultlessly despite him making her wriggle and squirm on the stool while she played her instrument and he played her.

However eventually his rhythmic fiddling disrupted the rhythm of hers and she lay down her Cello and he lay her over the stool.

Choice Tales from the Vale – (246) A Rude Awakening

 

Don Gonye drove the short distance from Finchbottom to Middle Gracewood as he returned home after a month away in California and his head was full of thoughts of his lovely wife Lizzie.

It was 11pm when he pulled onto the drive and the house was in darkness so he got out of the car and smiled because that meant she was in bed which was exactly where he wanted her.

Don deposited his bags in the hall and went straight upstairs where he quietly opened the bedroom door and peered in. 

Lizzie was on her back lying naked on the bed bathed in pale moonlight so he quickly undressed on the landing and then crept into the room and joined her.

He lay beside her and kissed her lips but she didn’t respond, so he decided he should wake her up, beginning with her nipples and having teased them to erection he took them in his mouth in turn.

Don left her swollen saliva coated teats and watched her face for signs of wakefulness as his hand drifted across her belly to her neatly trimmed bush.

His hand dallied there briefly before coming to rest on her mound and she held her breath in anticipation of its progress so he knew she was only pretending to sleep, so after a moment his finger parted her lips like a hot knife through butter and it was instantly immersed in her hot creamy juice.

The first strokes of his finger on her pussy just added to her lip creaming, and the subsequent ones had much the same effect but caused her to stir a little beneath his hand and lick her lips.

When he slipped two fingers into her cunny she murmured in response to his penetration but despite his fervent attentions she still pretended to be asleep.

So having reached the point where he couldn’t have got her any wetter if he fingered her all night long he decided on a change of tack, in order to awaken her before he mounted her, or rather get her to wake from her pretend slumber.

Don poked his finger as deep into his pussy as he could get it and made sure it was well coated with her cum when he withdrew it and then he screwed it up her tight anus and Lizzie gave a little squeal and then she was wide awake.

“You dirty bastard” she said and kissed him and he positioned himself between her thighs and slid his cock between her sticky lips all the way up to his aching balls and made her suck in air through her teeth.

“Oh Don” She said and closed her eyes again as her penetrated her again and she wriggled like a fish beneath him.

Choice Tales from the Vale – (245) Under the Sharpington Pier

 Sarah Filsell was on holiday at Sharpington with her husband and two small children and they were staying at the Seaview Hotel on the sea front, which was where she met John Crowther.

She was a 30 year old neglected housewife who was incredibly frustrated by the lack of attention from her husband and the quiet young man from the Hotel went out of his way to make her feel special, he smiled at her, he flattered her and furthermore he flirted with her.

But she would never have dreamt of taking it any further, but on Monday morning fate took a hand.

 

It all started after breakfast when Sarah’s husband Geoff told her she should wear a one piece swimsuit to the beach as nobody would want to look at her in a bikini.

An argument ensued, followed by a silent walk down to the beach where Geoff said

“Come on kids lets go down to the water for a paddle while mummy sits here and sulks”

“Go to hell” she retorted and stormed off towards the pier at the same time John Crowther was walking along the beach towards the pier from the opposite direction.

 

Sarah was furious as she stomped her way across the sand muttering under her breath.

She was angry because she did look good in a bikini despite being 30 and given birth to two children and men did still find her attractive, but mainly she was angry because she had let him make her feel worthless and unattractive, again.

So when she walked under the pier and met John coming the other way she jumped him, pushing him back against a metal support and planted a kiss on his mouth before he had chance to say hello.

And the moment their lips met her juices began to flow and her frustration came to the fore and once the genie was out of the bottle there was no way she was going to get it back in. 

So she unzipped his fly and tugged his cock out.

“God I want this so bad” she moaned

“But how can we?” John asked “I can’t take your swimsuit off someone might come along”

“Just go up the leg” she told him

“Will that work?” he asked naively

“Of course it will” she snapped

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure” Sarah said crossly “I want it”

“Only if you really want me too”

“Just do it” she urged and with her left hand she pulled the gusset of her costume aside to reveal her pink moist pussy.
And then she leant against the support and John stepped up behind her using the crease between her cheeks he guided his cock to its juicy destination.
“Oh that feels so good” Sarah said as skewered her “So good and so dirty”
She gripped the support with white knuckled hands as his deep penetrations entered her syrupy quim until her screams were lost amidst the seagulls cries.

A year later Sarah had left Geoff and was living in Sharpington with the children and was being regularly serviced by John, under the pier, on the pier, on the beach, in the park or in one of the vacant rooms in the hotel, basically anywhere she could get it. 

Choice Tales from the Vale – (244) Family Christmas Tradition

 

David Shoreman thought he had drawn the short straw when he had to drive from the family home in Abbottsford to pick up his 2^nd cousin Clare Pilkington from Dulcet St Mary on December 23rd.

But it was family tradition for the clan to gather together at Christmas and even though Cousin Clare was a pain in the arse she had to be got and it was his turn.

Although they were the same age, 35ish, were both single and shared a great grandfather, they had nothing in common whatsoever because he was an outgoing, personable and fun loving, whereas Clare was a dried up old witch, in his opinion anyway.

Clare lived alone in a big house, which she once shared with her deceased brother and parents, she didn’t socialize, she had never had a boyfriend or girlfriend for that matter and apart from the annual sojourn to Abbottsford for Christmas she was a bit of a recluse.  

She wasn’t really liked within the family in fact she was barely tolerated.

But the truth of the matter was they didn’t really know her and made little or no attempt to rectify that situation.

 

As he left Abbottsford it started to snow and the snow that had fallen ten days earlier was still evident on the ground so the fresh fall quickly settled.

He wasn’t keen on driving in the snow, and he didn’t like driving to Dulcet St Mary either, doing it in the snow just made it worse so he drove very cautiously. 

It was apparent that the snow was coming from the direction he was heading because as he was driving between the Finchbottom Expressway and the Dulcets the snow on the road was getting significantly deeper so he went even more cautiously until he finally arrived.

 

Clare looked the same as usual with her fine brunette hair scraped back off her face giving her a severe “Croydon facelift” appearance. 

She also wore the familiar black pinafore dress over a grey blouse and black wooly tights.

There was a polite though monosyllabic exchange of words on his arrival but he urged haste on the basis of the weather and she quickly locked her front door while David put her case in the car.

“I’m not sure how long it’s going to take to get to Abbottsford in this mess” he said as they set off

“I like the snow” she remarked

“Me too” he agreed “but not for driving in”

 

The road back to the Finchbottom Expressway was impassable so they tried the road to Shallowfield however they only got as far as Mornington and had to turn back.

There was another route across the Vale that went through Clarence but the likelihood that it was passable was severely in question.

“It looks like we’ll have to stay at yours and try again in the morning” he said

“Ok” she responded

 

When they got back to the house he couldn’t get the car all the way up the slope of the driveway so he had to leave it where he came to a stop.

It was only ten yards from the car to the front door but the snow was calf deep so by the time they reached the sanctuary of her house the snow had got into their footwear and Clare’s thick woolly tights were wet through.

“Make yourself at home” she said and ran upstairs

David took off his coat and wet shoes and walked into the lounge and took out his phone.

“Where are you?” His sister Karen asked crossly “we were getting worried”

“I’m at Clare’s” he replied

“What still?”

“Yes, the roads are blocked so I’m staying here for the night and we’ll try again in the morning”

“So you’re spending the night with Cruella?” Karen said and laughed

“I hope you’re going to behave yourself”

“Very funny” he retorted

“Good luck” Karen said

Just then he heard Clare descending the stairs so he said

“I’ll see you tomorrow”

Clare walked into the room and she had lost the “Croydon facelift” look and as her hair had been shaken out and tumbled onto her shoulders.

She had also lost the black pinafore dress, the grey blouse and black wooly tights, instead she had on a full length pink fluffy dressing gown, pink socks and pink bunny slippers, an altogether more frivolous version of Clare than he had ever seen before.

In her arms she was carrying some clothes.

“It’s only joggers and socks” she said “they were Clive’s, he was about your size”

Clive was her brother, who died in the same car accident that took her parents.

“Thanks” he said still reeling from the softer pinker Clare.

But despite the fluffy exterior she was still the same monosyllabic woman as before.

That was at least until she opened the first of several bottles of wine and then she didn’t stop talking.

 

Due to the snowy weather, which was showing no sign of abating, he was a captive audience as she sat and drank wine she slowly revealed herself.

After Clare opened the third bottle of wine she proceeded to reveal more and more about herself with every drink, but the more she drank the more she tended to ramble and she spoke a lot about time and sands running through her fingers and choices and not knowing, but he couldn’t really follow her train of thought very easily as the alcohol had taken its toll, so before she could open a fourth bottle of wine he took the initiative decided to steer her up to her room.

 

Once they reached her bedroom door he had to wedge her against the door jamb while he opened the door, unfortunately as the door swung open she fell into the room.

Dave instinctively reached out and grabbed her in an effort to prevent her from hurting herself unfortunately he overreached and fell to the floor before she did and landed on his back just in time for Clare to land on top of him.

“If you wanted to kiss me all you had to do was ask” she slurred before planting an almost Labrador like kiss on his mouth.

“I’m too much of a gentleman” he said after extricating himself from her embrace and struggled to his feet and helped Clare to do the same before steering her into the bedroom.

“But you’re not a gentleman” she said as he plopped her onto the bed “so there’s nothing stopping you”

She grabbed him by the lapels and planted another kiss on his mouth, much more controlled and unhurried and he started to reciprocate.

He had never noticed before but Clare was actually an attractive woman, who beneath her stern exterior was a warm open person, with an altogether pleasant demeanour.

She was not the person that the family all thought she was, she was not the persona she projected to the world.

Dave began unbuttoning her dressing gown and her kissing became more intense and she snorted through her nose.

He couldn’t believe he was in Cousin Clare’s bedroom, kissing her while he was undressing her.

His sister Karen would laugh her socks off if she knew he was snogging the “dried up old witch” and enjoying it.

It didn’t feel to him like he was fondling a witch, she was too warm, soft and tender and when his finger went between her lips he knew she wasn’t dried up either.

And when he was positioned between her thighs she stopped kissing him and said

“I thought this day would never come”

So as he looked into her eyes he slowly entered her.

 

On his way back from the bathroom he paused to gaze out of the landing window and the snow was still falling fast and then he climbed back into Clare’s bed and she gave a rather smug self-satisfied sigh as she cuddled up to him.

“When can we do it again?” she asked with her head on his chest.

“Tomorrow” he replied “if you still want me”

“Why wouldn’t I still want you?” she asked

“You may feel differently in the cold light of day” he pointed out

“I won’t” she assured him

“How can you be so sure?” he asked

“Because…”

“Because?”

“Because I’ve always wanted you” she replied

“In which case we can do it all day” he said and kissed her

“We have to drive to Abbottsford tomorrow” she pointed out

“It’s still snowing so we won’t be going anywhere tomorrow”

“What about the Family Christmas Tradition?”

“I suppose we’re just going to start our own tradition” he said

Clare lifted her head from his chest and looked at him coyly and said

“Then I hope it snows till twelfth night”

Choice Tales from the Vale – (243) Cup Final Day

 

Although he now lived in Shallowfield Pete Bailey was born and bred in Abbottsford and the third Saturday in May was a red letter day for him as his beloved Abbottsford Town “the Knights” were playing Chelsea in the FA Cup final.

Unfortunately he was unable to get a ticket and as he thought he might be reduced to tears by the occasion he elected not to watch it in the The Foresters with his mates, choosing instead to watch it at home on his own, he had even ditched his girlfriend Hannah for the day and depending on the result they would either celebrate or commiserate at the pub afterwards.

 

As he sat in the Black and White quartered shirt of Abbottsford Town watching the preamble he did indeed shed a tear.

It was as the echoes of “abide with me” began to fade that the knock at the door came.

He opened the door and was greeted by his very eager and affectionate girlfriend Hannah who, the instant the front door was closed launched herself at him.

 

He managed to fend her off long enough to ask her

“What are you doing here? We’re not supposed to be meeting up until later, “after” the cup final”

“I’m horny” she replied and put his hand on her unfettered tit

“You’re always horny” he pointed out “You’re nickname is horny Hannah”

“But its Cup Final Day” he said letting go of her breast

“And I’m horny” she reiterated

“Cup Final” he shouted

“Horny” she shouted back and wriggled out of her dress

 

He was positioned on the sofa behind her in such a way that he could fiddle with her exceptionally wet fanny with one hand and play with her tit with the other and still be able to watch the Football.

He managed to keep her bubbling away just under boiling point, simmering her gently, until the half time whistle blew when he brought her quickly and noisily to the boil before he speared her over the coffee table.

 

He was thankful for the raw unrestrained sex as it took his mind off the events on the pitch where Chelsea had Town on the back foot for the whole of the first half but were shockingly unable to score.

But when the second period kicked off he needed to concentrate and try to ignore his horny girlfriend

“What happens if Chelsea win?” she asked as she sat fingering herself in the armchair in front of him trying to distract him from the screen.

“It doesn’t really matter does it? It’s only a game”

“It’s only a game?” he asked with contempt

“Yes” she said

“Well let me give you a reason to care who wins” he said

“If Chelsea win Horny Hannah doesn’t get another shag today”

“Come on the Knights” she shouted

 

Time was running out and although Chelsea completely out played the Knights it was still goalless and as the match entered stoppage time it looked for all the world that the match would go to extra time.

Then midfielder Del Blackmore started to put in a run on goal straight down the middle and twenty five yards out he let fly with his left foot.

Everyone in Black and White in the Wembley crowd were on their feet, Pete was on his feet and Hannah stopped fingering her fanny as Tim Dalton, the Chelsea keeper, leapt to his right at full stretch and was left clutching thin air as the ball hit the back of the net.

Pete went absolutely crazy and was jumping up and down and there was an explosion of noise from the Wembley stands which all but drowned out the referee’s whistle Abbottsford Town had won the FA cup.

Hannah was staring at the TV with a confused look on her face

“Does that mean I get a shag now?” she asked but Pete was already kneeling in front of her armchair with his engorged cock in his hand

“Oh goody” she cheered “Up the Knights”