Freya St David, 09 – Goddess Of Wealth

Freya St David was a pretty nurse with strawberry coloured hair, and despite the fact that she was barely five feet tall and looked like a breadth of wind might blow her away, she was very strong and full of self-confidence.

But it hadn’t always been that way when as a young girl she lived in the village of Tipton in the northern most part of the county.

Freya was twenty-seven years old but looked much younger and she was a first-class flirt.

But flirting was as far as she ever went until she found out that all the time, she was being faithful to her boyfriend he was shagging her best friend.

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

 

She was a district nurse by profession but on that particular day she was supplementing her income with some private work.

She worked through an agency and did a wide variety of roles, evenings and weekends, the only thing she refused to do was work at the Churchill Hospital where she worked out of, as she thought that was taking the piss.

Freya was on her way to a private house on the outskirts of the Village of Carrington.

It was a big Art Deco house built in the thirties, very elegant and very stylish.

But for its owner James Boazman it had become like a prison because even a gilded cage was still a cage.

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

The reason for his imprisonment was his wife’s illness.

Freya’s role in regard to Amanda Boazman was palliative care although she was very far along and barely conscious.

Freya was the night shift and apart from managing her medication she just had to sit with her.

It enabled her to nap quite a lot so as not to impact on her day job, she was fortunate in one respect that she had never slept for more than 6 hours a night in her life.

 

It was about three o’clock in the morning when Freya woke from a dose, she checked the patient and decided to go and get herself a drink.

She crept quietly down the stairs so as not to disturb Mr Boazman.

Freya tip toed her way down until she was startled by a sound, she stopped and listened and then carried on.

As she approached his study, she noticed a light under the door.

When she got closer, she could see him seated at his desk.

“Hello Mr Boazman” said Freya

“Is everything alright?” he said startled

“Yes, I was just getting a drink” she replied

“Are you ok?” she asked and entered the room and approached him.

“If you’re having trouble sleeping, I can give you something” she said

“I’m fine really” he said

“I don’t think you are” Freya said and sat herself on the corner of his desk “So come on out with it”

He didn’t say anything immediately, but Freya noticed he was staring at her legs, and then he realised she had noticed.

“Well, I’m ashamed to say it but…. I’m bored”

He admitted

“I can’t go out and leave her, but I can’t have people over here either”

“It’s not just that though is it?” she said as she noticed his eyes on her legs again.

“No” he agreed and proceeded to tell her the root of his problem which all boiled down to the fact that he was horny, and he wasn’t getting any.

All his wealth and nobody was wetting his whistle.

This development was not expected and as she had awoken from her doze a little moist herself was not entirely unwelcome.

But whether a man too principled to pay a prostitute to come to the house and service him would be unscrupulous enough to shag his wife’s nurse was the big question.

She decided to put him to the test.

 

As he had shown such an interest in her legs, she would give him something more tantalizing to look at.

As she sat down her skirt had rucked up at the back and she knew it would not reposition itself.

She could see in her peripheral vision that there was a book on the far corner of the desk.

Freya stood up and in one fluid movement turned around and reached across the desk to retrieve the book.

This she managed to achieve with the bulk of her skirt still rucked up which meant Mr Boazman had a great view not only of her lovely legs but also most of her arse.

“So, what are you reading?” she said in no hurry to return to the perpendicular.

He didn’t answer, so Freya thought he must have been digesting the view.

She threw a little glance over her shoulder and saw that he had wheeled his chair slightly to his left to give him a completely unhindered view of her display.  

"Dickens" he said in answer to her question just as she was wondering quite how long she could stay in that position.
"Not long" was her conclusion just as she felt his hands on the back of her thighs.
His fingers were spread wide, and his thumbs pointed upwards towards the prize as they moved slowly northwards.  

"That’s nice" she said encouragingly and relinquished her hold of the book.

"It’s beautiful" he responded as his palms reached her fleshy cheeks.
Freya was bent over the desk with her full weight on her palms wondering if he would have the initiative to take advantage of the situation just as James relinquished his hold of her arse.

Freya thought the worse and feared his conscience had got the better of him.

But he had only ceased his fondling in order to raise the hem of her uniform halfway up her back.

He then ran his hands up to the waistband of her tights and yanked then smartly downwards in such a swift movement not unlike the magician’s tablecloth trick and her knickers came down with them.

So, with her knickers and tights safely around her knees Freya was assured to get something for her trouble but precisely what she was about to get she did not know.

Out of Freya’s line of sight James had undone his trousers and was sat in his chair with his erection in one hand while the other resumed its fondling of her buttocks briefly before nonchalantly slipping an inquisitive finger between her juicy lips almost like checking the oil level on your car and Freya let out an acquiescent moan in response.

And when his finger came out wet, he positioned his chair as close up behind her as possible.

“Come on then" he commanded and with his powerful hands on her tiny hips he encouraged her towards him.
Freya who still had both hands on the desk pushed herself up and then with his guidance lowered herself onto him.

If he had been in any doubt up to that point that she was experienced she dispelled them instantly as she rose and fell on him, rising almost to the very tip of him and then all the way down.

Freya was experienced but this position was new to her, he grunted and moaned beneath her as she rode him, and it felt wonderfully dirty.

 

Afterwards Freya reflected on the event and felt she had done a good turn, he would at least sleep well even if he would have a betrayal on his conscience.

Freya was well satisfied with what she had given and what she had received.

James was a passive partner, but Freya thought that with a bank holiday weekend approaching when she was due to do three twelve hour shifts she would have time enough to cure him of that.

Choice Tales from the Vale – (014) An Innocent Voyeur

It was a hot sultry summer afternoon in the village of Sharping St Mary, only a few miles from Purplemere, and only that morning 20-year-old Caroline Danville had returned to her home from University.

Although she had actually left University a month earlier, she had spent that month with her mother and stepfather in Bushy Down.    

She was supposed to be there for another two days, but her stepfather Graham had begun to get on her nerves, not that she disliked him or anything like that, he was harmless enough he was just a bit of a fusser and she didn’t like to be fussed over.

So Carrie, as she was known to everyone, had left early and was sitting in a quiet corner of the garden, in a shady and secluded spot.
She preferred the shade and couldn’t abide the sun, and it wasn’t overly fond of her.
She had pale ginger hair and fair delicate skin to accompany it, so she could either keep herself covered up or stay in the shade.

So, she was laying on a picnic blanket in a bikini, hidden from view and lost in solitary thought.

Carrie had been out in the garden for a little under an hour when she noticed her stepmother Julie walk slowly across the lawn from the house, she liked Julie and she had liked her from the very beginning, she was younger than her dad but 15 years older than her and she had been her stepmother for five years.

It was a very large garden with trees and shrubbery in abundance on three sides and a huge lawn in the centre where Julie spread out her blanket.

The garden being very private, and with her husband away on business and Carrie not due back until the weekend, Julie thought she was alone.
Carrie was about to shout “hello” but stopped herself when Julie slipped off her dress to stand naked on the lawn, with arms stretched above her head like a goddess and then she pirouetted like a ballerina, showing her magnificent well-toned and well-tanned body to the birds and the bee’s in her secluded surroundings.
Julie was a tall willowy woman with long legs and lithe limbs, her perfectly proportioned breasts moved delightfully as she continued to dance, celebrating her nakedness and offering herself to the sun.
Julie suddenly stopped her homage to Terpsichore and laughed as she ran her finger through her vibrant brunette hair, then she lay down on the blanket.
Carrie was again about to speak and make her presence known, but found herself unable, or unwilling, she was mesmerized by the tableaux that lay before her, and she found herself a little aroused.
Which surprised her greatly, not being so inclined, not being of that persuasion, not being a disciple of Sappho.
“What harm can it do?” she thought to herself, to look on with no fear of discovery.
Carrie was a reluctant voyeur but the opportunity presented itself and so she took it.
Where, was the harm in watching a beautiful woman sunbathe naked, it didn’t mean anything.
But then Julie started to touch and caress her nakedness.

 

Julie started to touch and caress her nakedness, first her breasts, which caused Carrie to look away slightly embarrassed, but her curiosity drew her back and her arousal heightened as she saw Julie’s long, elegant fingers comb through her lush pubic curls and descend between her lips.
Carrie watched Julie’s busy fingers, spellbound and her arousal grew deeper with each stroke of her stepmother’s slender digits.

Carrie was so engaged by Julie’s erotic tableaux that she found her own fingers rubbing her own pussy through her bikini and when Julie’s body arched in climax Carrie let out an involuntary yet audible squeal.
Julie glanced over in her direction and their eyes met and Julie smiled while Carrie blushed.
Julie sat up and beckoned to Carrie in a wordless invitation to join her.
Carrie arose from her place of hiding and her legs felt weak as she walked tentatively to join her step mum and Julie was standing by the time Carrie reached her.

She was about to speak, to apologize for spying on her, for intruding on her privacy and for enjoying her intimacy, but Julie put a finger to Carrie’s lips to silence her, and Carrie could smell Julie’s musk upon it. 

Julie’s hand then caressed Carries cheek and ran her slender fingers through Carrie’s fine Reddish Blonde hair and pulled her head towards her, and kissed her.

Carrie had never been kissed by a woman before and her first thought was to back away, but she couldn’t move, so as Julie’s lips grew closer, she opened her mouth and received her step mothers tongue and for the first time Carrie enjoyed Sappho’s sweet kiss.

It was a kiss like no other kiss she had ever had, her boyfriend David never kissed her like that, and he had never made her knees go weak.

There were still no words between them only smiles when the kiss ended and Carrie offered no resistance when Julie removed her bikini top, exposing her pert little breasts and stiff pink nipples, nor did she flinch as Julie’s hands untied the strings of her bikini pants.

Julie took the garment in her hand and the moisture in the fabric and held it to her nose and inhaled Carrie’s sour scent.

Carrie looked to the ground and felt herself blush from head to toe which made Julie smile.

She dropped Carrie’s wet musky pants on the ground and then took hold of her hands and guided her onto the blanket.

“I’m not a lesbian” Carrie said

“Neither am I sweetie” she replied as she laid Carrie down on the rug where she kissed her.

First on the mouth hot and heavy then gentler on her neck, her chest, her breasts.

Julie dwelt upon her breasts and sucked slowly and deliberately on her swollen little nipples as Carrie was lying with her hand on her head and her eyes shut tight as the electricity of each of Julie’s kisses tingled through her young body.

Julie left Carrie’s stiff saliva-soaked nipples and proceeded to kiss her way down to her quivering belly pausing only to flick her tongue into her navel which made her jump.

For the rest of Julie’s journey Carrie’s hands grabbed fistfuls of blanket and her tight young arse squirmed as she anticipated Julie’s ultimate destination.

And as Julie’s cheek brushed against her ginger bush Carrie parted her thighs so she could enjoy Sappho’s most intimate embrace.

Freya St David, 08 – Goddess Of War

Freya St David was a pretty nurse, slender and pale with strawberry coloured hair and she stood barely five feet tall.

She was a district nurse and on that particular day her first call of the day was on the fifteen floor of a tower block called Gladstone court.

Thankfully the lift was working so she didn’t need to yomp up 15 flights of stairs.

Her patient that day was Ben Lewis, a sergeant in The Downshire Light Infantry who had been severely wounded by an IAD in Afghanistan and was a double amputee.

His left leg had gone below the knee and his right just above.

His wounds had all but healed but that wasn’t where his main problems lay.

Freya’s job was to manage his medication and massage what remained of his legs or more accurately his stumps but when she started visiting him Ben’s main problem was a near terminal case of self pity and low self esteem.

 

Twenty seven years old Freya looked much younger than her years and she was a first class flirt.

And for a long time flirting was as far as she went until she found out that all the time she was being faithful to her boyfriend he was shagging her best friend and from that moment on she took her pleasures where she found them.

And it was such pleasures that restored Sergeant Lewis’s will to live.

 

On that day although her schedule was lighter than usual she wasn’t expecting a prolonged visit with Ben, as since her success at putting lead back in his pencil, the fiancé was back on the scene and benefiting from Freya’s good works.

 

As she walked along the landing a couple were just leaving the flat next door and as was her habit she smiled and said

“Good morning”

And genuinely expected the customary response of echoing the greeting but instead got something quite different.

“I’ll give you good morning you ginger slut” she bawled

“You keep your eyes off my husband”

Freya was not, despite her diminutive stature, averse to the idea or indeed the execution of launching the gobby bitch over the balcony but instead chose something that would enrage her even more.

She did think to say that if she wanted her husband she’d have him but thought that might be too inflammatory.

As she stood on the doorstep waiting for Mrs Lewis to answer the door.

She gave the husband another smile, this was accompanied by a long languid appraising stare followed by a wink.

And the man’s wife launched into a tirade of abuse which was made worse by the fact Freya smiled at the woman as she was raging.

The poor husband had to physically restrain her and manhandle her towards the lifts.

The last thing she was expecting when she said good morning to them was to be verbally abused and warned off to stay away from her husband by her patient’s gobby neighbour

In truth Freya hadn’t really looked at her husband and when she did look him over after the event she didn’t think he was anything special, but her curiosity was aroused.

Just then Mrs Lewis opened the door.

“Hello dear” she said

“I see you’ve met the neighbours”

“Yes” Freya said still smiling “she’s a colourful character”

“Well her language is” Mrs L said and then added “He’s nice though”

 

When she left the Lewis’s about forty minutes later she saw the gobshites husband walking back towards her.

Despite her smiley response to the initial assault Freya was actually quite hurt.

She’d never thought of herself as a slut, admitted she was not shy when it came to sex and the number of her sexual partners had grown of late but she didn’t see herself as slutty.

She was a bit angrier now the insults had sunk in and she was up for a fight so she braced herself.

“I’m sorry about earlier” he said completely disarming her. “My wife is very jealous and it makes her a bit crazy”

“Where is the pit-bull?” Freya asked

“At work” he replied

“Come in for a coffee, by way of an apology”

She was going to politely decline his offer but then she thought how mad the pit-bull would be if she knew she’d been alone in her flat with her husband, so instead she replied.

“That would be nice, thank you”

 

They sat in the kitchen and Freya was feeling very pleased with herself she didn’t really want to be there and he was as uninteresting to talk to as he was to look at but it gave her a buzz.

She looked at her watch and drained her cup and was about to leave when the phone rang.

“Excuse me” he said and went out to the hall to answer it.

Freya stood up and was about to put her coat on when she realised the conversation was getting a bit heated.

“No I wasn’t ogling her” he said and paused

“I didn’t notice” 

“Was she?”

Freya was aware it was about her because the pit bull was shouting so loud.

She couldn’t make it all out but she recognised words like ginger whore, skinny slut, boney bitch.

And that just made her mad again so she decided to get even, so she slipped off her coat.

 

After hanging up the phone he walked towards the kitchen door and prepared to apologise for his wife all over again but suddenly hesitated in the doorway as he caught sight of the skinny ginger slut sitting on the kitchen counter completely naked and fingering herself.

He stayed out of sight not because he didn’t want to embarrass her but because he didn’t want her to stop, so he did the ungentlemanly thing and watched her through the crack in the door.

Freya knew he was there and knew he was watching her and enjoying it and she wasn’t fazed or embarrassed as he finally walked into the kitchen, nor did she stop what she was doing as he approached.

“My wife wouldn’t like this, she wouldn’t like it at all” he said walking up to her and kissing her full on the mouth.

“She’s not going to get it”

Freya responded still fingering her crack.

But with her free hand she unzipped his trousers and tugged his engorged organ out through the opening.

Which was no mean feat one handed because although he was ordinary looking and uninteresting to talk to he had a very interestingly large cock

“I know you were watching me” Freya said “How long were you there”?” she asked between kisses

“Long enough” he replied

“Oh yes it is” she purred still holding his cock and tugging it towards her waiting pussy.

When he was inside her she hooked her skinny legs behind his arse and locked her arms around his neck and let him fuck her hard on the kitchen counter.

 

As she rode the lift down to the ground floor she was smiling as she thought about the not unpleasant nor unsatisfying shag.

It was not the best despite the size of his tool, she had had but she was glad she had done him in the bitch’s kitchen just to spite his gobshite wife.

It lacked finesses or even much technique it was just primeval sex, on the whole she thought she would not repeat the experience and decided the pit-bull could keep him.

The pit-bull declared war on her but Freya was victorious.

Choice Tales from the Vale – (013) A Man to be Trusted

“Take care of her?” said Winifred Hawkes-Holland as he opened the driver’s car door.

“Will do boss” Harry replied giving his passenger a wry smile as he got behind the wheel.

“I’m not a child,” Clare shouted petulantly out of the open window “and I don’t need babysitting”

It was certainly true to say that Clare Hawkes was not a child, far from it.

No one who ever saw the 25 years old would ever have described her as such, childish, possibly, but not a child.

After all Clare stood an inch short of six feet tall which was evidence of adulthood in itself but if that didn’t convince you then her long legs, voluminous rolling hips and a 44” bust would.

No, Clare was not a child, but her mother, as mothers always do, would always see her thus. 

But Winifred Hawkes-Holland wasn’t merely Clare’s mother she was also her employer.

Holland brothers bought and sold Antiques and collectables, a business that Winifred married into and now Clare was going on her first solo-buying trip.

Even though technically she wasn’t going solo and it would have been her maiden trip but for the fact Harry Mortimer was sent with her as a babysitter.

Harry had been with the Holland’s since he left school and he was greatly trusted by Win.

And as he was in his early forties and unremarkable looking and was to all and sundry average in all respects she trusted there would be no shenanigans.

Suffice is to say Winifred trusted her precious daughter was in safe hands with Harry Mortimer. 

 

On the journey from Northern Downshire all the way down to Finchbottom, Clare was still berating Harry on her mother’s distrust of her.

“It’s not that she doesn’t trust you,” He said

“She doesn’t seem to realise that I’m a grown woman,” she continued

“We are all aware you are a grown woman” Harry said and after pause added

“Well aware”

Clare looked at him and raised her eye brows

“So what have you noticed?” she asked with amusement

Harry blushed to his roots under her gaze

“Nnnnothing” he stammered

“Come on Harry” she pressed

“Just that I have noticed that you are no longer a child” he replied

The rest of the journey passed largely in silence with Clare admiring the countryside while occasionally sneaking glances at her driver.

 

They stopped that night at the White Horse Inn in Finchbottom and spent the evening in the restaurant where Clare drank more than was good for her.

Harry thought she had been in a strange mood since the journey down and kept looking at him in a funny way. 

But Clare was drinking too much, and she was flirting and he had never seen her do that before, and he couldn’t let it continue.

If he did, her mother would not consider that “Taking care of her”

“Come on party girl” he said “bedtime”

“Oh goody” she said draining her glass

 

Accompanied by outrageous flirting and downright suggestive behaviour Harry steered her up the stairs

“Up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire” he said and when they reached the top he headed towards her room at the end of the corridor.

 

When they got to her door Clare announced

“Honey! I’m home”

Harry propped her against the doorframe as he unlocked the door and she began kissing his neck.

“Behave yourself” he said and gave her a playful slap on her bum.

“Oooh are you going to spank me Harry?” she asked

“Get in there young lady” he said and guided her through the door

“I love it when you’re all masterful” Clare responded and wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to kiss him.

Harry managed to avoid her lips at the last second as the door slammed shut behind them and they performed a strange ungracious waltz into the room.

“Here we are young lady,” he said as he prepared to lower her onto the bed

“Bedfordshire” Clare said gleefully, and span Harry around then pushed him backwards onto the bed and she kicked off her shoes and jumped on top of him.

Harry began to protest but her soft lips and hot mouth clamped over his and her tongue was like a serpent.

Harry’s resistance lasted less than a minute, after all he had dreamt of that moment since she was 17.

His hands began to claw the shirt free of her waistband and then with great urgency she sat upright and pulled the shirt off over her head and threw it aside.

Her hands trembled as her fingers fumbled at his shirt buttons but when she had accomplished her task she ran her fingers through the hairs on his chest.

And those same trembling hands that caressed his flesh went behind her back and unhooked her bra.

Harry was looking at her face while her hands were on his chest but the moment her hands began unfastening her bra his eyes stared at her harnessed breasts and as the tension around them relaxed he reached up and pulled the bra off and discarded it and revelled at the sight of Clare’s great round breasts then she leant forward and delivered them into his waiting hands and her mouth returned to his.

Her breasts were rising and falling and Harry could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her kissing became more intense.

She sat up again and hurriedly undid his trousers and then climbed off him and dragged his trousers and pants off.

Harry raised himself up onto his elbows as Clare wriggled out of her jeans and then tantalizing slipped off her panties to reveal a neatly clipped triangle of black hair.

And when she climbed back on him she didn’t hesitate for a second before expertly enveloping Harry’s shaft with her welcoming wetness. 

Clare was on him and he was at her mercy as she rose and fell on him and on each fall Harry grunted his appreciation as his hands groped her buttocks.

As Clare raised the tempo her panting came in coarse rasping breaths, each one coarser and more guttural than the one preceding it, until she cried out in orgasm.

After Clare had ridden Harry to an exhausting climax, the sweating panting beast with her raven black hair in wild disarray and eyes wide with primal lust smiled a smile of lasciviousness.

“Do you think this is what your mum meant when she said, “Take care of her”?” Harry asked

“Oh yes I think so” she said “and when you recover you can “take care of me” again”

And Harry took care of her every day they were on the road and on future trips Clare always insisted on having her babysitter with her in order to “Take care of her”.

An Angel In The Night

It was springtime and the sap was rising and so was Colin Capel.

He and his wife Jane were driving through the countryside to a spa hotel for a church weekend.

But it wasn’t the thought of seminars and inspirational talks that had 53-year-old Colin full of vim and vigour.

It was the thought of Angela Purcell that had him loaded and ready to fire.

She was 12 years younger than he and they had recently lit the flame of passion within each other.

It had begun in the church stationary cupboard one Sunday morning and was continued two weeks later, on her sofa.

 

He wasn’t a womaniser by nature, he’d been married more than 30 years to the same woman before he strayed into Angela’s underwear.

He loved his wife and he considered himself fortunate to be married to her, she was still a very attractive woman, slim and elegant and when they made love it was still as good as ever.

Colin had always had a roving eye, and quite unashamedly ogled woman at every opportunity but he never once seriously considered the transition from lustful voyeur to complicit adulterer.

But once he had tasted the forbidden fruit of Angela Purcell he was hooked, and he wanted more.

Although he wasn’t looking to add any further strings to his bow, he would be quite content to keep playing duets with Angela at every given opportunity.  

She was the opposite in many ways to Jane who was tall whereas Angela stood a towering 4 feet 11 in her stocking feet.

They were both beautiful, Jane classically so while Angela had large saucer eyes and a warm mesmerizing smile.

Jane still had a lovely figure especially for a woman the wrong side of 50, Angela’s figure on the other hand was singularly unremarkable.

She had short chubby legs, a flat chest and a barely distinguishable waist.

Both of them to Colin’s mind had exceptionally nice bums.

Angela won and the voice front as she spoke Roedean English and Jane had an estuary accent.

But Jane won in regard to dress she was always stunningly turned out and Angela dressed like a tomboy in cargo pants, t-shirt and plaid shirts.

 

Unfortunately, since the afternoon he liberated her from her pyjamas while she was laid up with a sprained ankle they hadn’t been able to repeat the experience.

And he didn’t hold out much hope for that weekend either.

Angela would be there, but she was sharing a room with her flatmate Judith and Colin was with Jane and the Hotel would be full of people they knew so the chances were slim.

It hadn’t occurred to him, but it was probably the chance of being caught that had him in a heightened state of excitement, such was the side effect that came with liasons dangereuses

Although blissfully unaware of his unfaithfulness Jane was very happy with life as she was benefiting from the vigorous attentions of her husband due to   Colin’s almost perpetual state of arousal.

And was definitely looking forward to some more that weekend so clearly someone was going to be disappointed.

 

They checked into the Hotel just after 4pm on Friday afternoon and they were the first of their party to arrive.

It was a nice place, well equipped, something for everyone, swimming pool, golf course, spa treatments, gym, sauna and country walks.

After depositing their bags in the room and unpacking they returned downstairs to have coffee in the lounge and spent a pleasant hour watching the comings and goings of their fellow guests.

Where he gleaned the information that, Angela and her roommate Judith were only booked in for the Saturday night and wouldn’t be arriving until the following morning.

This was disappointing news for Colin as it severely narrowed the window of opportunity for him to reacquaint himself with Angela.

He had unfinished business with her from the first time they made love, it was not as vigorous as they would both have liked due to Angela being slightly incapacitated by a badly sprained ankle.

But there was also another deficiency during that afternoon’s action which he had since been fixating about.

Angela had prohibited him from going down on her, much to his disappointment and her embarrassment, because she hadn’t showered.

However much the news of Angela’s late arrival disappointed Colin it pleased Jane in opposite measure because she got what was meant for Miss Purcell.   

 

The next day Colin breakfasted early and then loitered in reception hoping to see Angela’s arrival.

His vigil ended abruptly when Jane came down with a detailed itinerary of their day and so his chance had gone.

 

It was late afternoon when he and Jane next passed through reception and there, she was sat in one of the huge chairs with her stocking feet on the table chatting with friends.

“Order some coffee Colin” Jane said “I just need to take a tablet”

Colin knew that “A tablet” meant she was getting one of her heads which if she could catch early enough would not become a migraine.

“Ok love” he said

He ordered coffee and then went over to where Angela was sitting.

“Hello” he said “you look comfortable”

“Hi Colin” she replied “We walked too far and now my feet are sore”

One or two of her friends had already made a move so there were some empty seats, so he took the nearest one to Angela.

“You need a hot bath” her friend Judith suggested

“Yes, I’ll have one when I go up” she said

“Well, I’m going for one now” Judith said and picked up the key card before he had chance to see the room number.

“Ok I’ll see you up there” Angela replied

“Goodbye Mr Capel” she said

“Bye Judith”

“Do you want me to rub your feet?” he asked when they were alone

“Perhaps I can rub the ache away”     

“You know very well that’s not where the ache is” she whispered

“Or what I need you to rub”

Before he had a chance to answer Jane arrived.

“Ah there you are Colin” she said, “Hello Angela, have you been walking?”

“Yes” she replied

“Sore feet?” Jane added to which Angela responded with a nod and Jane was in complete simpatico without further explanation.

He didn’t participate in the conversation which allowed Colin the time to rerun their conversation in his head, particularly the last part.

He liked it when Angela talked dirty, he always thought things sounded twice as dirty when a posh girl said it, and it was doubly dirty when a posh Christian girl said it.

It aroused him greatly as her words echoed inside his head despite the fact he was sat in between his wife and his mistress.

After a few minutes Angela picked up her shoes and stood up.

“Well, I’m for the bath” she said “Hopefully I’ll see you later”

“Yes indeed” Jane replied although Colin knew it was directed at him.

When they came down for dinner that evening, he didn’t see Angela anywhere, although in truth she was so tiny she was easy to miss in a crowd.

On the pretence of mingling Colin wandered around the reception looking for her in every nook and cranny but there was no sign.

When it came time to go through to the restaurant, he positioned himself in proximity to the door so he could check the faces in the crowd, but she wasn’t there.

 

After a very enjoyable dinner, Jane had to excuse herself as her headache of earlier had indeed become a migraine.

Colin accompanied her up to the room and then returned to the dining room for the after-dinner speeches after which he discreetly searched for the lovely Angela in the many rooms and lounges.

Things were getting desperate, if Angela couldn’t be found and Jane was in bed with a migraine, he’d have to knock one out in the bathroom or he’d never get to sleep.

Anyway, when he had looked everywhere twice, he made his way upstairs.    

“About bloody time” she said as he walked down the corridor causing him to almost jump out of his skin.

When he regained his composure, he turned around to find Angela standing by an open door.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you” he said

“I fell asleep” she confessed “and I missed dinner”

“You must be starving” Colin said sympathetically “do you want to get something to eat”

“Hunger isn’t the appetite I need to satisfy” she said and took his hand

“Where’s Judith?” he asked

“She’s in her boyfriend’s Roger’s room getting a rogering” she said and giggled at her joke

“I’ve had a shower” she added nonchalantly raising the hem of her skirt tantalizingly leaving him in no doubt what was on the menu.

“Num, num” Colin responded

“Come and get it then” Angela said dragged him into her room.

 

It was four o’clock when he slipped out of the sleeping Angela’s bed and crept back to his room.

When he got into bed next to Jane he was quite literally shagged out.

He had hoped, before the weekend that his coupling with Angela would be much more vigorous than their last outing but boy oh boy he was not disappointed. 

But never in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine it would be as toe curlingly vigorous as it turned out.

Angela turned out to be an absolute wildcat and as he drifted off, he thought to himself that if he was going to sleep with Angela again he would need a course of vitamins.

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Angel In Pyjamas

Colin Capel was approaching his 53 birthday and had never felt so young and vital as he had since the episode when had fondled Angela Purcell in the stationary cupboard.

At the time he had known her for roughly six years and had had a crush on her since the first moment he saw her.

She was in his wife’s bible study group which was held at his house every five or six weeks.

When the diminutive woman standing 4 feet 11 in her stocking feet looked at him with her large saucer eyes he was ensnared.

Even before she deployed the warm mesmerizing smile he was smitten.

But as remarkably beautiful as her face was, her figure on the other hand was singularly unremarkable.

She had short chubby legs, a flat chest, and a barely distinguishable waist.

Though her bum was an altogether different proposition, and each buttock was beautifully defined inside her cargos.      

Colin however despite being attracted to her didn’t envisage that anything would ever come of it, he was a happily married man, and she was a good Christian girl.

So, it came as quite a surprise when his wife Jane volunteered him to help Angela retrieve something from the stationary cupboard and he ended up helping himself to the contents of her knickers.

 

After the event Colin felt a surprising lack of guilt about it even though he was a married man, and the fondling took place on church property during the Sunday service while his wife Jane sat in the congregation.

It was the first time he had strayed from the path in over 30 years of marriage, and he should have felt a tinge of guilt but what he actually felt when he reflected on the event was a trouser tickle.

He didn’t know if Angela felt guilty, he hadn’t seen her to ask.

Though in fairness she wasn’t an innocent whom he had defiled.

His hand wasn’t the first to venture into her pants, albeit it was the first for a good few year.

It was Angela who had initiated the action in the cupboard when she feigned a slip from the steps and fell into his arms.

 

What he had come to regret about that day was his ungentlemanly action when they had taken their seats among the congregation.

Colin sat first in the vacant seat Jane had reserved for him and when Angela had found her seat, she looked across at him and smiled,

Which was when he waved his finger beneath his nose and breathed in her musky scent.

In response Angela stared wide eyed and open mouthed at his action and her face went scarlet before she looked away.

But when she turned and looked at him again a moment later, smiling broadly he took that as a signal that she might wish to play again sometime.

He berated himself however on the crude and vulgar nature of his behaviour.

 

But as time went on, he wasn’t so sure she was up for it.

Angela had a wonderful work ethic, which was something else he admired her for, and she held down three part time jobs.

Monday to Wednesday she worked at Abbotts Gardens Centre, Thursdays, and Fridays she worked Dustbusters domestic cleaning services and at weekends she worked in the café and bookshop at St Joseph’s church, which was situated on the verge of the town centre. 

 

In the week following that eventful Sunday Colin was away in Frankfurt on business and it was the next Monday when he decided to act.

He visited the Abbotts Gardens Centre numerous times but failed to see her, so he went into the café and bookshop on three separate occasions just in case she was doing extra shifts but there was no sign of her there either.

So he thought that she was obviously racked with guilt and was either keeping a low profile or had left.

Colin couldn’t keep turning up at the church looking for her as people would doubtless notice and be suspicious, he had already visited the bookshop more times in one week than he had in the previous two years.

He wasn’t going to see her again and it was all because of that silly finger sniffing episode.

He had gone too far and clearly, she had gone too.

 

And that would have been that had it not been for an overheard conversation between his wife and the café and bookshop manager, Mrs Patmore.

“Yes, I can do a couple of hours on Saturday” Jane said “And I hope Angela is better soon”

After Jane had hung up the phone Colin asked

“What was all that about?”

“Mrs Patmore is looking for help at the café while Angela is laid up” she replied

“Why what’s wrong with her?” his asked casually

“She fell off those rickety steps last Sunday” Jane said in her “I knew that would happen” voice.

He and Jane hadn’t been to St Josephs that day as they had a christening to attend in a different parish.

“Oh dear” he said wondering if she was thinking about the previous week’s antics “is she ok?”

“Badly sprained ankle” Jane said

 

It was Wednesday when he got the news about Angela’s fall, and once he realised, she wasn’t seriously hurt Colin wondered if it would be classed as a fall from grace.

Particularly if she was reminiscing on the previous outing on the steps.

He spent the next couple of days trying to think of a plausible ruse that would enable him to go round and see her.

The ruse would be superfluous for Angela as she would know why his was really there, the ruse was for the benefit of Judith who was Angela’s flatmate.

He racked his brain for a solution, but none came so he resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t see her until she returned to work.

 

On Saturday morning he was busy in the garden pruning back the shrubbery when Jane appeared at the backdoor

“I’m doing a shift at the café this afternoon” she called

“Ok” he replied

“There is a bunch of flowers on the table” she continued “I don’t have time to drop them off, so can you do it?”

“Sure” he replied, “who are they for?”

“Angela of course” she said “why do you never pay attention”

Flowers, why didn’t he think of flowers, it was perfect.

 

As soon as Jane had left he went upstairs and showered and shaved.

Then he got in his car and drove the six miles to the small block of flats where Angela lived.

He walked up to the first floor and rang the bell and a few minutes later it was opened by Judith Smallwood the flat mate.

“Hi Judith” he said “I have flowers for the invalid”

“Hello Mr Capel” she said politely “Do come in”

As he followed Judith down the hall staring at her denim clad cheeks, he thought that Angela’s flat mate had the three main attributes that Angela lacked youth, height and breasts.

But despite that there was something he hoped Angela had that Judith never would, a willingness to sleep with him.

 

“It’s Mr Capel” Judith announced as he walked in

“Hello Colin” she said recumbent on the sofa with her sprained ankle resting on a chair supported by a large cushion.

She was wearing a blue fleecy dressing gown over the top of pink striped pyjamas.

“What a lovely surprise”

“I come bearing gifts” he said and proffered the bunch of flowers which Judith snatched from his grasp and took them away to the kitchen

“They’re lovely” said the Roedean girl and motioned with her head like someone watching the grand prix and has just seen the car race down the home straight.

He sat down on the sofa next to her

“I would have come sooner” he said after Judith had gone.

“But…” He didn’t finish his sentence as Angela had taken hold of his hand which she continued to hold until Judith reappeared.

“Will you be alright if I just pop into town?” she asked “I won’t be long”

“Of course,” Angela replied “Colin will keep me company for a little while, won’t you Colin?”

“Oh yes” he replied “I’ll take good care of her”

The second they heard the front door close Angela took hold of his hand again and held it against her cheek.

“How’s your ankle?” he asked

“Not too bad” she said, and Colin took that as a green light for some gentle sex.

“I was hoping you would come to see me” she said in her posh wanton accent

“I came as soon as I could” he explained

“I know” she said holding his palm against her cheek.

He moved closer to her and kissed her mouth.

She reciprocated instantly with lips soft and yielding, and her mouth was hot and her tongue was inquisitive.

Angela’s hands began to claw at his shirt dragging it free from his trousers.

She made a half-hearted effort to pull it off but from her semi recumbent position she couldn’t manage it.

“Take it off” she barked            

He pulled it off over his head and threw it onto an empty chair and then her trembling hands were all over his naked flesh and she sighed.

He untied the belt of her dressing gown and slowly opened the two halves like the leaves of some great volume and Angela pulled him to her and kissed his mouth again as his fingers started on her buttons.

He took his time as he was in no great hurry as he knew the contents were not as well formed as her flat mates were but that wasn’t the reason for his lack of urgency, he wanted to see everything and the slower he went the hotter she got, and he wanted her hot.

Her hands ran up and down his back as each button in turn yielded to him and as each one did, so she gave a little snort of approval as her mouth remained clamped to his.

When the final button succumbed, he pushed the fabric aside and caressed her meagre breasts and was toying with her exceptional nipples and Angela began to murmur in his mouth.

Colin broke away from her lips and quickly transferred his affections to her dark proud teats, sucking on them like a hungry child as she lay back and bit her lip.

Her chest was rising and falling, and he could hear her heart pounding.

Meanwhile his hand had begun to pull the elasticated waist of her bottoms, but he couldn’t do it one handed.

So, he left her wet misshaped nipples and reached up under her arse and with both hands he smartly yanked them from her arse and down her thighs.

To preserve her modesty Angela quickly covered her newly uncovered bush with her dressing gown as he pulled them all the way off one leg and holding that leg by the ankle, he began kissing it all the way down her leg to an obvious goal but he only got as far as the back of her knee when she said

“No Colin” she pleaded but he started down her thigh

“Please don’t” she begged “I haven’t showered”

Then she put a cushion over her face to hide her embarrassment.

Colin released her leg, paused only to uncover her bush then lifted the cushion and kissed her lips softly.

“Don’t hide from me” he said as his fingers parted her lips and gently massaged her as Angela wriggled beneath his hand and moaned softly.

It wasn’t long before she made it known that she was ready as she awkwardly sat up and began to undo his trousers.

But with her sprained ankle still balanced on the cushions she struggled and so he hurriedly finished the job as she spread her thighs wide to receive him.

Colin slid his hands down her outer thighs until he had a buttock in each hand and then he was inside her.

He looked down at her and Angela was in a frenzy, her head was rolling back and forth, she was biting her lip as her hands gripped the edges of the sofa and she panted out course rasping breaths until she cried out finally in orgasm.

 

As he drove home, he reflected on the afternoon and pronounced to himself that it was nice, gentle and comfortable but the next time would be a little more vigorous, a little more exciting and decidedly more animal.