HEAT

 

 

We came together
In a frenzied embrace
Mouths locked, Nostrils flared
Snorting like fighting bulls
Kissing, stroking, groping
Fumbling with buttons and belts
Hooks and eyes
Until we lay in a heap
Disordered in our semi nakedness
I caressed her breasts
Teasing her nipples
First with fingers
Before attending to them orally
I moved my hand across her soft belly
And pulled up her skirt
My mouth alternated between
Her swollen nipples and her eager mouth
My slipped under her skirt
And I reached up
Until I felt the silk of her underwear
I pulled them down to her ankles urgently
Then I moved my hand steadily
Up her long stockinged leg
From ankle to calf to her inner thigh
The soft naked flesh above her stocking
Before combing my fingers through
Her luxuriant growth
She turned her attentions once again
To my ear frantically exploring it with her tongue
I cupped her pubic bone in my hand
And rocked it gently
Then I slipped my fingers between her lips
Into the creamy wetness
She moaned gently in my ear
And slid her finger around my swollen shaft
Tugging roughly at me
As I worked her wet flesh
Until her rhythmic moaning reach crescendo
And she came
Her thighs closed on me
Then she rolled onto her back
For me to mount her
She wanted me so badly
And my balls ached for the want of her
I lay on her and we kissed
And I probed at her wetness
Teasing her lips with my tip
Then in her urgency
with her slender legs wrapped around me
She pulled me in until she enveloped me
Then she gripped me
Vice like with her slim yet powerfull thighs
Preventing my withdrawal
Her mouth was again on my ear
Licking and chewing
Her razor like nails dug into my skin
I arched my back
And entered her deeper
Then her grip on my hips lessoned
I withdrew and thrust into her again
She writhed beneath me moaning
As she tongued my ear
I thrust again
She bit my lobe
Her nails were now in my buttocks
I thrust again and again
Then again faster and faster
We moan loudly in unison
Until I exploded inside her
And she clung to me like a limpet
There we lay in the afterglow of passion
Locked in fond embrace
For a timeless period
Until our passions were again aroused

Choice Tales from the Vale – (017) Bedding Bendy Wendy

 

Tom Haggerty lived in a quaint Tudor cottage in a quiet suburb on the posh side of Childean.

He was fifty-Two years old and recently widowed and immediately after his wife’s death he seemed to suddenly appear on the radar of the local spinster’s, widows and divorcees in and around his own age.

In fact, it all started at his wife’s funeral where he was buttonholed by two well-presented mourners who made it perfectly clear he could avail himself of them if he chose to do so.

But it was many months after his dear wife was laid to rest and only after repeatedly rebuffing the endless advances of even the most attractive of the local pursuing vamps that he finally decided out of desperation and loneliness to dip his toe in the water and bump uglies with some of the local “talent”.

And those salacious liaisons went on for some time but as enjoyable as they were his heart wasn’t really in it, but he would probably have continued nonetheless but for a providential collision.

When quite by chance on one damp miserable day he met Wendy in Tesco’s car park after a minor fender bender.

She was a very beautiful woman, tall and willowy with long light ginger hair, and a smiling freckled face.

Wendy was a much younger woman than Tom had of late been involved with, in fact she was a considerably younger woman than he, whom at the time he looked upon her merely as a casual observer, although he thought she was attractive and shapely with her Lycra outfit doing nothing to hide her assets, he completely overlooked the fact that he was a man and she was a woman, because he believed she couldn’t possibly be interested in an old man like him.

And although they laughed and joked and she flicked at her hair flirtatiously he was flattered but for him it was a nonstarter, the stuff of cheap fiction, or so he thought at least, but in time he was to find out that he was wrong.

 

It was a warm summer Saturday afternoon a few days after the accident when Wendy knocked on his door.

“Oh hello” he said doing a double take when he recognised the beautiful smiling young woman, not dressed in Lycra or with her hair up this time, but her ginger tresses flowed free and she was wearing a summer dress, and very little else as far as he could tell.

“Hi Tom” she said and flicked her wayward hair off her face.

“This is a surprise” he said

“I wanted to make sure you were ok” Wendy said and proffered to him a bottle of wine “And apologize again”

“There really is no need” Tom insisted

“I thought there was”

“Well, this is very kind of you” he said “but I can’t accept it unless you join me in drinking it”

“I thought you would never ask”

“Well, you make yourself comfortable on the patio and I’ll get some glasses” he said

So, Wendy walked out through the French doors while Tom went into the kitchen and got two glasses from the cupboard and after opening the bottle of Pinot, he poured two generous glasses of the wine and headed towards the patio.

He stepped outside with a glass in each hand, but his uninvited guest was nowhere to be seen, at least not at first.

Tom had assumed she had just taken a turn around the garden while she was waiting and was about to put the glasses down and go in search of her when she suddenly came into view.

“You see I made myself comfortable” she said as she stood on the edge of the patio with the greenery of the garden behind her wearing a bracelet on her wrist, rings on her fingers and a smile on her face and absolutely nothing else.

He returned her smile and then his eyes began to view her in detail beginning with her ginger tresses, streaked with gold from the sun which he followed as they hung down to her naked plump white breasts, adorned with pale pink nipples.

They then travelled down over the topography of her white flesh, from her pronounced ribs, flat belly, narrow waist, and bony hips until they settled on the ginger tuft of pubic hair pointing the way to the gap between her skinny thighs.

“So, I can see” he replied still holding the wine glasses, and then she began to walk towards him.

Well, if the vision of her standing naked had mesmerised him it was nothing in comparison to the view of the naked Wendy when she set her gorgeous body in motion.

She walked slowly and deliberately getting the maximum movement into each delicious step, making her skinny hips roll which in turn made her plump little tits move in unison. By the time she reached him his mouth was open and his arousal was stirring in his shorts.

Wendy dealt with both of these things in turn, first by putting her mouth over his and invading it with her eager tongue, and with the second by wrestling it from his shorts and gently pulling on it.

Tom was unable to prevent either of these actions as he was still holding a glass of rapidly warming wine in each hand, not that he wanted to.

As her bony fingers stroked along the length of his bone, she removed her mouth from his and gave him a broad confident smile before sinking to her knees where her beautiful smile enveloped his swollen organ.

After some prolonged and expert ministration to his cock she was again on her feet in front of him with the same confident smile on her face.

Wendy relieved him of one of the wine glasses and drained it and said

“You can join in now”

Tom took her by the hand and put his glass down on the table as he led her into the house.

His intent was to bed her upstairs, but Wendy intervened and pushed him onto the sofa where she climbed on his lap and impaled her ginger pussy on him.

Tom felt faintly ridiculous having a 23-year-old girlfriend and had a feeling of extreme amazement and delight, though more amazement if he was completely honest.

His wife Mary would have laughed like a drain if she could have seen him with a girl, she would have considered a child, he really missed Mary.

The sex with Wendy was amazing and made his toes curl and also made his cock stir just to think about it and without wanting to be disloyal to his late wife’s memory it was probably the best sex he’d ever had, no that wasn’t true it was definitely the best sex he had ever had or was ever likely to have.

She was supple, agile and pliable in fact she was really quite exceptionally bendy, he even called her bendy Wendy, and she had near inexhaustible stamina.

But even though Wendy was as horny as hell and a more than accomplished sexual partner she was unfortunately duller than ditch water.

She was “fun” to be with when he was benefiting from her expertise, but her company wasn’t stimulating other than in the obvious way.

Any red bloodied man not in his position would have thought him quite mad for wanting to end it.

But she had no conversation and was the very definition of vacuous.

Gorgeous, sexy, horny as hell and truly accomplished in the sexual arts, but as dumb as a stick.

 

The truth was that Wendy did not meet all his needs other than the physical.

What Tom wanted was someone like his wife, someone who loved him and who he could love and more importantly talk too.

Someone who knew that Muffin the Mule wasn’t a sexual offence, someone who didn’t think Mr Pastry was a 1960 version of Paul Hollywood and a woman who remembered a time when you had to get up to change the TV channel.

Wendy was not the answer to this want.

Nor could she fill his desire for some nice gentle love making and an affectionate cuddle, some grown up conversation.

Wendy was not someone he could fall asleep in front of the TV with, so he decided to end it.

 

He went outside to break the news to Wendy but when he saw her in the garden squatting naked by the side of the ornamental fishpond Tom thought to himself “ok just one more fuck then”

Freya St David, 11 – Goddess Of Sessrúmnir

 

Freya St David was a pretty nurse with strawberry coloured hair, she was barely five feet tall, slender and pale and she was from 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, and her skin was always flushed pink like she was freshly scrubbed.

Yet she never did anything more than flirt and she really enjoyed flirting.

And that was as far as it ever went until the time that her pig of a boyfriend, who she had suspected was shagging her best friend, confessed it to her one night. 

And from that moment on she took her pleasures where she found them.

As a district nurse she had a number of regular home visit, terminally ill or housebound patients and she’d built up a good rapport with most of them.

She had had a very busy week and by the time she returned to the District Nursing office she was exhausted.

 

“Oh God” she said to herself when she saw that George was still there, he was one of the temporary cleaners, covering while the usual couple were on holiday for the week.

He was good at his job, but he fancied himself a bit, and he was a good looking lad with a well-toned body but he was no more than 18 years old.

This however didn’t prevent him from propositioning every female member of staff irrespective of their age.

Freya had been swatting him away like a mosquito all week thankfully the A team were back after the weekend.

She really wasn’t in the mood for any of his nonsense.

Freya was not in the best of moods to begin with as she was a bit miffed that she hadn’t heard anything from the captain, she felt sure that there was a connection between them, she thought maybe a text message or an email, even snail mail but there was nothing.

She was also hot and bothered as it had been a hot day and because they had to wear the full uniform on her rounds including black tights and her legs were sweaty.

Freya didn’t like sweaty legs much so as the evening was still warm and as the office was officially closed the first thing she did when she got back to her desk was to remove her black tights and let some air to her legs.

She was also moody because she hadn’t had it for a while.

Freya was always horny in the hot weather and as she hadn’t been active since the day of the Summer Ball, she was like a volcano ready to erupt.

So, when George propositioned her in the waiting room for the umpteenth time that week, she snapped

“So, you fancy a bit of Ginger?” she shouted and got right in his face

“Well, erm um well” he stammered

“Well let’s see what you’ve got big boy” she said angrily and thrust her hand down the front of his joggers and grabbed his cock which, as was the habit with teenagers instantly swelled in her hand.

“Not bad” she said, and he tried to kiss her

“They’ll be none of that” she snapped

She wasn’t about to let him fuck her, she had however decided to fuck him, just in case he had a hair trigger.

She released his cock and yanked his joggers and pants down to expose his not insubstantial organ and then pushed him backwards onto the large low table in the middle of the waiting room littered with magazines and other reading matter.

“Get on your back” she snarled, and he meekly complied

Freya climbed on top of him, pulled her knickers aside and slid herself onto him

“Is that what you wanted George” she said

“Oh yes” he said and tried to touch her arse

Freya slapped his hands away and said

“Just hold on to the table and try not to come too soon”

She moaned coarsely as she skewered herself on him.

He reached up to fondle her tits through her uniform but again she slapped his hands away again.

“I won’t tell you again” she snapped.

Freya wasn’t interested in him enjoying himself this was all about her stress relief, her satisfaction, and her volcanic eruption.

Which she would get as long as he didn’t finish prematurely.

Freya was content to close her eyes and ignore the callow youth treating him as no more than a dildo as she remained in complete control and exuded the most sensual self-satisfying moans as she rode him to their mutual climax.

 

She climbed off him and rearranged her drawers and looked down at George lying down on the table with a grin on his face.

“You can put that away now” she said and batted his withering erection like a cat swiping at its prey which made him wince and removed the grin “And tidy this mess up”

Choice Tales from the Vale – (016) The Accidental Cougar

 

Yvonne Maher lived alone in a large detached Georgian house in a well-heeled leafy corner of Shallowfield and it was a bright early autumn morning when she lay cosily beneath her duvet and reflected on what had been a very interesting and eventful summer.

Yvonne was over fifty, only just over, but none the less she was the wrong side of that particular milestone and she was divorced to boot.

But she wasn’t a lonely divorcee because Yvonne had a wide circle of friends.

She also had a younger lover, more than 25 years younger to be precise which she supposed made her a cougar.

Yvonne had just come through a rather bitter divorce when they met, not that she was heartbroken by the ordeal or needed picking up from it.

In fact, she didn’t mind being divorced, she hardly ever saw her husband Graham when they were together anyway, he was always on the golf course or in the 19^th or more often than not he was in his secretary.

 

But when she met her young lover, Philip, it opened her eyes and showed her that she was still an attractive woman, still a sexy woman, still a desirable woman and her ex-husband Graham never appreciated that.

Her lover was her next-door neighbour’s son, 25 years old with the body of an Adonis, a brain the size of an avocado and a cock that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Shetland pony.  

 

She was immensely flattered to still attract male attention at her age, she had had so little attention paid to her by her ex-husband that she had forgotten how attractive she was, and Philip was very attentive, very considerate and extremely vigorous.

A session with him was like Zumba and Pilates combined with mild electrocution.

After a weekend with him she was quite literally shagged out and needed the best part of a week to recover.

Not that she wanted to seem ungrateful, as many women in her position, or positions, would have been quite envious if she’d ever told anyone about him and what he did to her and how often, they certainly would not have been sympathetic if she enlightened them.

After all there was a lot to be said for being orgasmed to the point of unconsciousness at any age.

It was just that sometimes she would have been quite happy with an early night and a cuddle.

If her affair with Philip went on too long, she wasn’t at all sure that his vital and sustained attention wouldn’t shag her into an early grave.

Plus, the fact she was no teenager anymore and getting ready for a date that would end with her being stripped naked and well and truly ravished took a lot longer than it used to do.

As a teen, a squirt of perfume and some lippy and she was good to go.

Now she needed 24 hours’ notice a good night sleep and five hours to prepare.

 

At the time she met Philip she wasn’t looking for a man of any description and she certainly wasn’t looking for a toy boy she hadn’t even asked to have her grass cut so she truly was an accidental Cougar.

And it all began one early summer’s day when Philips’s mother Emily volunteered her Estate Agent son to spend his day off cutting her not insubstantial lawns.

 

It was a very hot day which got all the hotter for Yvonne when Philip took off his shirt and his muscular well-toned torso glistened with sweat.   

By the end of the day, she was at boiling point and he had finished all the lawns and was ready to abandon his horticultural endeavours and focus his prowess towards attending to her bush.

 

Yvonne was in the kitchen getting him some water when he walked up behind her and slipped his hands inside her top, before she could even protest, he had un-cupped her breasts and then she didn’t want to protest anymore.

Yvonne was still holding the glass in one hand and the other was on the tap which was still running.

She was unable to complete the simple task she was performing because his big hands were fondling her breasts and was powerless to resist, she knew it was wrong, but she hadn’t had a man’s hands on her for two years and all she could do was hope he didn’t stop.

So, Yvonne actually sighed as his hand left her breast but then she gasped as it unbuttoned her shorts.

She closed her eyes as he began to tug the zip down slowly inch by inch, and as his fingertips slipped beneath the waistband of her silk panties to go where no hand but hers had been for more than two years her knees buckled and she dropped the glass in the sink.

But Philips left arm wrapped around her body and supported her weight as his fingers invaded her wet crease and she moaned coarsely, and he continued to support her while his fingers quickly brought her to the brink.

Still supporting her upper body Philip took a step backwards and Yvonne’s inability to relinquish her grip on the tap forced her to bend at the waist leaving her poised invitingly for the eager youth.

Her shorts had already fallen to her knees during his frantic fingering and with a deft hand movement Philips ensured her silk knickers joined them.

He then debagged himself and poised for the briefest moment to admire Mrs Maher’s plump arse and bejewelled pussy before plunging into her and then banging her into oblivion.

 

That early summer afternoon rogering was the first of many such occasions when she was on the receiving end of his huge cock.

But as Yvonne lay beneath her duvet on an Autumnal morning she wondered if it was worth it, well obviously when he was in her up to his balls vigorously attending to her it was clearly worth it.

After all sex with Philip, although really marvellous, was also very exhausting.

What she really wanted was someone of her own age, who could still get her wet but who would appreciate her for what she was when she wasn’t glammed up, someone she could be herself with.

Not that useless article of an ex-husband though, someone kind and considerate.

What Philip had done more than anything that summer, apart from skewer her repeatedly, was to remind her how much she enjoyed sex and once she had tasted the sweet sensual nectar of lust once again, she had an appetite for it that she needed to quench.

 

So, as she lay beneath the duvet she made an important decision, she wouldn’t see Philip again, because his stamina really could have been the death of her.

So, she would instead seek out a less vigorous partner or even partners.

And with the momentous decision made she snuggled down beneath the duvet and availed herself of a cheeky finger.

Freya St David, 10 – Goddess Of Love Songs

 

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

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

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 wounds had all but healed but that wasn’t where his 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-year-old Freya looked much younger, 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 very heavy in the morning she didn’t mind too much as she had the afternoon off, but it was with a little sadness that she approached the Lewis flat for the final time.

There was no confrontation with the neighbour’s on this occasion as she walked along the landing, though she did notice the curtain twitch, so Freya turned and smiled.

The last time she was there she was verbally abused by the wife who, completely unprovoked, called her vile names and warned her to keep away from her husband.

She didn’t even find the man particularly attractive and as a result, and to her great shame, and totally out of spite, she shagged the husband.

 

“Good morning” she said when Mrs. Lewis answered the door

“Hello dear” she said “my word its busy this morning”

“Yes?” Freya said

“Oh yes dear” she confirmed “We have a real house full”

“Well, it’s my last visit today” Freya said

“I know dear” Mrs. L said “We’ll miss you”

 

Freya went upstairs and knocked on Ben’s door 

“Come in” he called

“Morning sarge” Freya said and then realized he was not alone

“Hi Frey” Karen said and kissed her.

Karen was Ben’s fiancé and credited Freya for restoring Ben’s will to live.

Though I doubt if Karen would have kissed her if she’d known how she achieved it.

“Hello Karen” she said

But there was someone else in the room also who had caught Freya’s attention.

“This if my CO” Ben said “Captain Hardman”

“Pleased to meet you Captain” Freya said

“Jonathon” he said and shook her hand

Freya liked him, his handshake was firm, his handsome face was warm and open, and his voice was like honey on her ears.

“Jonathon” she said

Then Karen and the Captain left nurse and patient alone.

 

When she returned downstairs after discharging Ben and having finished the paperwork for her final visit and having said her goodbyes to Ben, she was disappointed to find Captain Hardman had left, Freya was very taken with him.

So, she said her farewell to Mrs. Lewis and got on her way because after her rounds she had the afternoon off to get ready for the Summer Ball.

After lunch Freya went home and changed before going out to have a manicure, pedicure and a facial which took most of the afternoon but not as much as she thought so on the way back home, she called in at the Boazman’s in Carrington.

James was a lonely, soon to be widower as his wife was dying.

They weren’t patients on her NHS list but were serviced by a private nursing agency that Freya was moonlighting for and she was doing some additional servicing of her own on the side.

 

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

And despite his great wealth he was sad and lonely, sad because the woman he loved was dying and lonely because of his self-imposed imprisonment in his home.

Freya had approached the problem with her usual finessed skill set and let him shag her.

And she had been letting him shag her for several weeks.

She thought sex with James was a very pleasurable experience, but she did wish he would be more dynamic and take the lead.

 

“Come in” he said, and Freya walked in as invited.

But it was no more than a minute or so after she’d taken off her coat before he was on her and he took her firm young body in his arms.

He kissed her as he fumbled inside her sweater and quickly rummaged his way through the scant layers until he reached her bare flesh and then moments later, he had his hands on her little tits.

In response to his unexpected, yet welcome assault, her hot mouth was clamped over his and her darting tongue explored every inch of his mouth and she snorted noisily through her nose.

Then Freya’s mouth, lips and tongue kissed and licked and nibbled their way to his ear as James’s hands were yanking her leggings off her buttocks and squeezing the pliable cheeks until his hands were entering her knickers and dragging them off her plump cheeks as well.

Once her knickers and leggings were at half-mast James turned his attention to moister fare and his fingers dallied briefly amidst her lush bush, and Freya stopped tonguing his ear and looked at him earnestly before giving him one of her dirty smiles and his finger slipped inside her crease.

Her smile widened and her eyes rolled back into her head as he roughly fingered her.

Freya was pinned against the wall with her knickers around her thighs as he frigged and she was loving every second of it, but she was ready now, she was so ready.

James must have sensed it because he turned her to face the wall

and slid his left hand across her soft belly and gripped her right hip firmly and lifted her small frame off the ground to bringing her waiting wetness up to the height of his waiting shaft and gripping her tightly with his left arm he offered his erection up to her eager loins.

Freya gasped as he penetrated her,

“Oh God James”

He continued to support her weight with his arm wrapped around her middle and her legs dangled and swung like she was a rag doll.

She was moaning uncontrollably as he went at her,

Getting ever closer to the threshold she panted through gritted teeth and he grunted on every stroke until it ended with Freya’s scream of satisfaction and they both collapsed to the floor.

“You see James that’s what happens when I let you take the initiative”

The annual Summer Ball at the Abbottsford Regents Hotel was for health employees of the town and its environs.

It was always a grand affair; Dinner jackets and evening dresses were compulsory.   

Freya was wearing a knee length emerald, green dress that hugged her figure beautifully and her shoulder length Strawberry blonde hair was down, so it danced around her nape as she walked,

Freya was a small girl; stick thin, with small breasts though in that beautiful emerald, green dress it appeared she had no bust line at all, though her nipples were clearly visible through the fabric.

She had well defined hips and an arse to die for, with stunning legs clad in black, her shoes were green to match her dress.

But at five foot tall in her stocking feet even four-inch heels failed to make an impression on her diminutive stature.

“Hello” he said, “its nurse St David isn’t it?"

“Yes” she replied “Freya”

Despite the fact she had only met him the once, and briefly at that, she recognized him instantly even in a dinner suit.

“Hello Captain”

“Call me Jonathon” he said “or Jon”

“No uniform tonight Jon?” she asked

“I love a man in uniform” and then she inexplicably blushed she never normally blushed when she was flirting.

In her head she chastised herself for behaving like a schoolgirl.

She was 27 for god’s sake so start acting like it, and whatever you do don’t ask…

“Are you here with someone?” she asked

“Yes and no” he replied

Freya only heard the word yes and was very disappointed

“I’m here with my brother Bob” he continued.

"Bob?" she asked

"Yes Dr Hardman"

“Oh, I see" Freya said

She had heard the name but didn’t know the man personally.

That wasn’t important, the Captain was "alone" and that was.

“I was sorry to have missed you at the house this morning” she said

“Yes, me too” he agreed “But I had to get back to camp, the Regiment is deploying again”

"Oh" she said "when?"

“Tomorrow” Jon replied

“Tomorrow?” she said disappointed again “you can’t say where I suppose?”

“No”

“But nowhere nice?” She asked

“Definitely not somewhere nice” he agreed

A comfortable silence settled around them and Freya’s mind drifted.

Freya really liked him, if she didn’t like him so much, she could have given him a farewell shag to send him on his way, but she didn’t think it appropriate even though she fancied him.

He wasn’t one of her normal potential conquests, even though they had only met that day she felt he was worth more than a knee trembler in an alley.

And Freya wanted more than a kneetrembler in an alley

“Would you like to dance?” he asked

“Love to” she replied

Jon took her hand and led her to the dance floor, and they danced through “I’m not in love” by10cc

“James Blunts “You’re Beautiful”

Barbara Streisand’s “The way we were”

“I will always love you” by Whitney Houston

And Fleetwood Macs “Albatross”

When Jon was tapped on the shoulder, he relinquished his hold on Freya and turned around

“Come on bro” a man said “it’s time”

“Ok Bob” he said “I’ll be right there”

Bob nodded and walked towards the door

“I’m afraid I need to go” Jon said

“I understand” she said    

“It was nice seeing you again” he said

“Perhaps when I return, I could call you?”

“Yes” Freya said “I’d like that”

And then he was gone.

Choice Tales from the Vale – (015) Birthday Girl’s

 

Emanuela Petrescu and Catarina Langella lived together in a two-bedroom flat above a parade of shops in Childean and apart from the fact they were both 27 years old and female they had absolutely nothing in common at all.

Emanuela was Romanian and was a doctor at the Winston Churchill Hospital and Caterina was Italian and was a hairdresser at Mazzone’s in the parade of shops she lived above.

They liked different food, listened to different music and wore different clothes.

The flat was owned by Mazzone’s and Caterina and another girl from the shop, Isabella, split the rent but when Izzy got married it left Cat in a hole, so she put an advert in the Chronicle and Ema was the only applicant and apart from the fact they were complete opposites they had lived together for 18 months and it had worked out perfectly.

 

Ema was tall and slender with brown hair and dark eyes and she made Caterina cross because she didn’t make the best of what she had, she didn’t go overboard with makeup and wore clothes that she was comfortable in rather than what made her look good.

Caterina had less to work with, she was shorter, plainer and chubbier than her flatmate with mousy hair and a big nose but she always looked immaculate, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by Ema.

Not that Caterina was aware of that until the day after her birthday.  

 

Emanuela had been on call at the Churchill on Cats birthday and had been out after work for a leaving party and as a result she had come home in a taxi slightly the worse for drink.

Caterina was in the bath when she returned and when she came out she was wearing a towelling bathrobe and a towel turban on her head. 

On seeing her flatmate all freshly scrubbed and pink Emanuela immediately rushed towards her. 

“Happy birthday draga mea” she said and threw her arms around Caterina exaggeratedly and hugged her

“Thanks, Ema” she replied and hugged her back

Emanuela however didn’t release her grip on the little mousy Italian girl and in addition began nuzzling her neck.

Caterina felt a little awkward but didn’t really understand what she was doing, that is until she started chewing her earlobe.

“I don’t...” she began but in response Ema’s lips were over hers and her tongue immediately explored her flat mate’s mouth.

Caterina was shocked as she had never been kissed by a girl before and she certainly didn’t expect it from Ema and as far as she was aware, she had given her no encouragement or indication that she was that way inclined, which she wasn’t.

But despite all of that Catarina still found her tongue was exploring Ema’s mouth with equal enthusiasm and encouraged by her response Ema untied the belt on Catarina’s robe.

Cat’s mind was in a turmoil, she wanted to stop but she couldn’t, all of her life Sex had always left her cold, and unmoved with no heat or passion but after Ema had delivered Sappho’s kiss she was on fire.

She had always put down her indifference to the act to a low sex drive but as she and her flat mate embraced, she wondered if in reality if she could have been driving in the wrong direction, was it conceivable that the secret of her sexuality was finally unlocked.

It was the first time she had felt such a kiss, the first time she’d felt that way in response to a kiss, but it had never occurred to her that she might be gay.

“Nonsense” she said in her head “I like George Clooney”

Yet her tongue still busied itself inside Ema’s mouth and her hands were inside Caterina’s robe and then those hands fondled her breasts and all thought of protestations were dispelled from her mind.

With a hand on each breast Emanuela pushed her back against the wall and withdrew her tongue from Catarina’s mouth and pulled her lips away, but Cat’s lips pursued Ema’s mouth like a hungry bird.

But Ema eluded her as her mouth had another goal and began kissing her freshly bathed skin, smelling of coconut, beginning at her neck with kisses as soft as a butterfly’s wings, down her chest, and then she kissed her breasts.

Caterina bit her lip in anticipation as Emanuela tongue was flicking around her nipples until that delicious moment when she took her pink proud nipple in her mouth and head was swimming and her legs trembled and when she felt Emanuelas hands on her naked buttocks they buckled, and she slid down the wall.
Emanuela reluctantly relinquished her nipple and rolled her onto the floor and went to work on the other one.

Catarina layback with her eyes closed and her mouth open in anticipation of the moment she longed for and when she felt Emanuelas un-manicured fingers brushing lightly across her damp mousy bush she gasped and when those unfeminine fingers touched her intimate femininity in loves sweetest caress, she emitted a moan akin to a purr and she finally knew her true self.

 

 

 

BERNADETTE FROM BLACKHEATH

I remember my very first girlfriend

Bernadette O’Flahety was her name

She was ever so slightly unattractive

But she was my girlfriend all the same

 

She was considered quite the looker

Where she was born in Blackheath

Despite the very large warty nose

With the ginger moustache beneath

 

She did have a face like a smashed crab

Or perhaps like a bag full of spanners

She had tufts of red hair under her arms

Like a pair of nesting ginger hamsters

 

They say that beauty is only skin deep

So, she must have had hers on inside out

She’d a funny eye so that one looked

At you and the other seeked you out

 

She was best viewed in a dimmed light

Preferably from distance to be unkind

It was best not to see her naked form

But tackle her in the dark from behind

 

She had hairy legs and even hairy nipples

Her shape wasn’t curves so much as sags

She carried at least three spare tyres

And had breasts like roof tiler's nail bags

 

Bernadette's complexion resembled

Two-week-old cold lumpy porridge

She had Denis Healy bushy eyebrows

Accentuating the prominent ridge

 

She was older than me by a little bit

And she had been around the block

And it would be more than fair to say

She had too many miles on the clock

 

Bernadette was a bit of an old banger

You could say in more way than one

But on a those long cold dark nights

She was also a real bundle of fun

 

My brother said unkindly, the poor girl

Must have fallen from the ugly tree

And making matters worse she had hit

On the way down a branch or three

 

The excessive cellulite on her thighs

Made them look and feel like tripe

She had a number of boils and sores

And her skin was of the greasy type

 

And yes, it’s true that she did have a face

Like a well smacked arse bless her

Or a bulldog chewing a wasp but then

I was no oil painting or Adonis either

 

And perhaps she was not what a mother

Would want to choose for her son

But Bernadette was quite acceptable

For a shy young man to practice on