Thursday, 21 June 2012

An Antidote To Writers Block (Part 06) Bareback Rider

I remember my Uncle John saying to me once, “Take it where you can find it” it was just after it became known to the family that he had impregnated his brother in laws young sister, Lucy.
I had asked him why? And I even quoted to him the old adage about not doing it on your own doorstep,
His reply was “Take it where you can find it because sooner or later supplies will dry up”
Now a comment like that presupposes that Uncle John wasn’t a fussy man but nothing could be further from the truth.
It’s true that he frowned upon the dismissal of a coupling on the grounds of the aesthetic.
Uncle John said on of his favourite ever sexual partners.
“She had a well used “Jack and Danny” that looked like a badly packed kebab”
He had a way with words did Uncle John and he was a colourful character.
But he also waxed lyrical on his preference for women’s bits to be in tact, he said, he liked everything where it should be, he said of his first wife after she had a hysterectomy that there was something quite disconcerting about the dead eye of her pussy staring at you like a Cod eye on Morison’s fish counter.
And if memory serves me he described Hysterectomy’s as gutting fish or disgorging cod.
I cannot comment having not to the best of my knowledge been in close proximity to a disgorged cod.

For myself I don’t have likes or dislikes in the pursuit of feminine company.
I do have preferences though, but that doesn’t mean I would dismiss out of hand a liaison with a sort not on the preferred list.
For example as a rule I don’t like shagging mothers because a vagina that has given birth and has ejected a large headed alien would by definition lack a certain taughtness.
But when presented with an opportunity to, I will, and after one recent carnal event in particular I would say to reject a jaunt for reasons amounting to a lack of tightness are extremely short sighted indeed.

It’s quite comical really when you hear a bunch of blokes standing around discussing who they’d shag and who they wouldn’t.
Listing the pro’s and cons for individual women when in reality it isn’t a question of which woman they would shag its more a case of which woman will let them have a shag.

But all of this is just grist to the mill for a libidinous writer like my self.
And you can reason all you want about who you would and who you wouldn’t but when the blood supply leaves your brain and heads for your dick you’ll shag anything.

There are things that really turn me I wont dispute that.
posh tottie with plummy voices, matching underwear, stockings obviously, silk underwear, uniforms, business suits, knee socks, small feet, come to think of it just about everything.
But once the beast has awoken, I generally have to let it feed, no matter what the prey.

A good case in point is Frankie, the Ginger gardener, on the face of it not an obvious candidate for my lust.
Frankie being a bit of big chunky unit with great-unfettered breasts and a shock of untamed red hair and with armpits to match.
Maybe that fact that she kept repelling my advances added to her allure.
But every Friday I would try to cop a feel of her ample unfettered tits and every Friday I am thwarted.
So as Sean Connery famously once said never say never.

This particular Friday I spied Frankie in the garden and with great stealth I stalked my Ginger prey, who was bent salaciously over a planter, however unintentionally.
I stood for a moment admiring her amply round derriere and as she stood up from her toil I slipped my hands inside her dungarees and aimed straight for her unfettered globes.
But alas she thwarted me yet again.
“Don’t you ever give up”? She said and slapped me hard on the arm.
“Oh go on just one squeeze” I pleaded
“No, my boyfriend wouldn’t like it.
“He wasn’t going to get it” I told her
“No” she reiterated
“Now let me get on”
“Hang on; I need to ask you a favour”
“Does it involve fondling my breasts”?
“Is that an option then?” I said hopefully
“No” she said firmly
“Then no it doesn’t”
“Ok ask away” she said
“Do you ever take on casual labour”? I asked
“Yes, but its hard finding someone reliable who turns up when they say they will”
“Why do you have someone in mind”?
“It’s not another lecherous git is it?” Frankie asked suspiciously
“No it’s a local girl, Maisie Stewart”
“Ok I’ll give her a trial”

Next I decided to call in at the corner shop and see the lovely Shulah and Aunt Anjuli.
Luckily lazy Omid was out, Aunt Anjuli was ill in bed and only Omid’s lovely young wife Shulah was in the shop.
When she saw me walk in she quickly fussed with her thick black hair and made her look even lovelier.
She was a skinny young girl but the nearer the bone the sweeter the meat was an adage I was very interested in exploring.
Her huge black eyes and toothy smile lit up her face and I felt a stirring.
This grew deeper when I mused on the possibility of examining the figure concealed within her loose robe and put my theory to the test and prove beyond any doubt that she had pert little breasts hidden under there.

I always flirt outrageously with her and Shulah would always flirt back.
And when it came time to pay there was always a lingering exchange where our hands would almost touch but not quite occasionally I would caress her hand with my thumb or brush my fingertips against hers and she would blush, and if she was in the shop I would brush passed her very close and she would get very flustered.
On that day however there were no prying eyes and I blatantly held her hand and caressed her cheek with the other I would have kissed her too if another customer hadn’t entered the shop.
It was Agnes Snipe, a very stern looking young woman with Short brown hair who managed the commercial side of the Golf club.
She never smiled and peers superciliously over her specs at everyone, not a joyful person.
We exchanged pleasantries if you can call them that and I broached the subject of work for Maisie and she gave me the brush off and left.
However before I could resume my activities with Shulah Victoria Braithwaite walked through the door.
She looked very flustered indeed when she saw me I suspect it was our recent liaison in the woods that was responsible for that.
Anyway when she eventually regained her composure I broached the subject with her about full time or part time work for Maisie she said that she would ask around amongst the ladies at the Women’s Institute but in the mean time she did have some odd jobs about the house that needed doing.
Shulah also promised to give Maisie a few hours in the shop while Anjuli was ill.
There were five people in the shop now, so our moment had gone so I gave Shulah’s hand a final stroke and left.

Not a bad mornings work all in all, I just hoped Maisie wouldn’t let me down.
It was just at that minute that I spotted Maisie Stewarts gawky gangling gate crossing the railway bridge so I set off in pursuit.
I lost sight of her for a few minutes and when I was across the bridge I didn’t know if she’d gone left or right.
I took a gamble and went left just as a girl on horseback rode by, it was India Carrington the little rich bitch.
She was the only child of a couple with more money than sense,
Apparently for her 21st birthday a couple of months earlier her parents flew her to America in a private plane to go on a riding holiday.
She was a pretty enough lass, only a tiny little thing sat astride a great Honey coloured colt.
The additional height gave her a great opportunity to look down her nose at the hoi polloi.
She never ever speaks to anyone and never responds to hellos or good mornings.
India Carrington was just a stuck up little bitch with no friends.
Now some men might take that as a challenge but not me
I generally have to fancy them first and foremost and if they’re stuck up, distant, snobby or uncommunicative I don’t fancy them generally.
Even if they do have an A* little bod like India did.
However snooty bitch or not I still found myself musing on whether she was wearing any underwear.
As I watched her trot out of sight I though that bloody horse was the only thing she seemed to care about.

I finally tracked Maisie down about ten minutes later sitting on the banks of a little stream dangling her naked feet in the water.
“Hello you” I said startling her
“You made me jump” she said and giggled.
“What are you up to”? I asked
“Nothing as usual” she replied glumly.
“Just as well I’ve found some work for you”
“Really”? She said excitedly
“You’re not just winding me up” she continued obviously used to being let down.
“No I’m serious”
She turned away from me and I could tell the way her shoulders were moving that she was crying.
“Well come on then” I said “Get your shoes on”
“They’re waiting for you”
“What now”? She said wiping her face on her sleeve and nearly falling in the stream.
Then she threw her long arms around me in a big gawky hug.
“Thanks Simon”
Then she sat down again and I handed her a hankie which she gave a double take at not knowing whether to dry her eyes or her feet so she did both in the end, eyes first.
As I walked her back into the village I filled her in with what odd bits of work I had found for her so far.
“But the rest is up to you” I said
“I won’t let you down Simon, I promise”
We were outside the shop now and I said
“It’s only temporary while Anjuli is ill but if you work hard, I’m sure they’ll use you again.”
She stood up straight and gave me a wonky smile.
“What if she doesn’t like me”? She said nervously
I wiped the last remnants of her tears away and took her in the shop.

As I stepped out of the shop I looked up at the church clock and realised I was going to be late; I had arranged to meet Georgia and her parents in Tollington for lunch, it was the first introduction and it meant a lot to Georgia so I rushed home and called a cab.

I made it to the restaurant with minutes to spare much to Georgie’s relief
Although I wasn’t looking forward to it, I was pleasantly surprised, her parents were good company the food was wonderful and it really was a very pleasant way to spend a couple of hours.
Her father Geoffrey had a meeting to go to and left about half an hour before the rest of us Georgia and her mum, Laura, wanted to go into Kiddingstone shopping which I gallantly let them do on their own.
They offered to drop me off but I was so stuffed after the meal I fancied a constitutional, so I declined the offer and set off to walk back to Bushy Down, Georgia said it was less than 3 miles as the crow flies and she scribbled down, on the back of a serviette, a route that would take me through Kings Oak Woods.

Well it was about an hour into my trek when I realized I was hopelessly lost and blundering about in the woods and I was wishing I’d accepted the lift.
The woods were getting thicker and thicker and darker and darker and I was starting to get despondent when I saw a glimmer of light though the trees.
I headed towards the source of the light which appeared to be a small clearing.
As I got closer I could see there was someone in the clearing, it was snooty India and her horse.
The colt was tied to a tree and she appeared to be grooming the beast.
I moved a little closer and was about to ask her to direct me back to the path to Bushy Down when I realised she wasn’t grooming the horse at all.
I had come upon the most interesting scene, where India stood beside the tethered beast, still wearing her riding hat, white shirt opened to the waist rubbing her naked breasts against the horse’s neck and shoulder, one hand gripping the horse’s neck and the other one down the front of her open jodhpurs pleasuring herself.
Now this was a most interesting development, and was a case in Point that supported Uncle Johns “Take it where you can find it” and my own adage of “Never say never”.
For India Carrington had gone in a matter of hours from an unattainable and by her manner, unattractive proposition to a top notch dead cert. or to put it another way she’d gone from a snooty stuck up little bitch to a little half naked fit bird masturbating in the woods.
I now walked slowly and stealthily, on her blind side, across the clearing to close the distance between us.
As I got closer I could hear the soft moans accompanying her fingering.
I was about five or six paces from her when she suddenly became aware of my presence and gasping India withdrew her hand from her pussy and hugged the horse even closer in an effort to cover up her nakedness, her pleasuring hand was now on the horses flank and I could distinctly see moisture glistening on two of her fingers.
“Don’t stop on my account” I said continuing to close the distance.
As I got closer she said nothing and just stood stock still against the horse.
When I was stood directly behind her I lifted the white shirt tail and she took a deep breath, and as I put my hands against the naked skin of her waist she let the breath out again.
I ran my hands slowly up her back I could feel her ribs beneath my fingers and her heart thumping behind them.
As my eager hands traversed her back I tried to slip one hand between her and the horse and grab one of her breasts, but India prevented me and she pushed my hand, not away, but down towards her fanny.
So I obligingly moved my hand across her flat belly and down into her jodhpurs and I ran my fingers through her coarse fluff and rubbed her mound of Venus gently eliciting a low moan.
I continued to rub her gently for several moments and began to move towards her slit, but instead of fingering her gash I put my left hand on her hip and yanked her jodhpurs down to her boot tops with my right.
Then I slapped her small white cheek hard like you would the haunch of a pony and left a big red hand print.
I knew I didn’t need to frig her fanny as I could see she was ready for me by the damp patch in her jodhpurs so I dropped my shorts and admired my erection for a moment.
I then slid my left hand from her hip across her soft belly and gripped her right hip firmly.
She was breathing in quick short pants when I lifted her small frame off the ground.
Bringing her cunny up to cock height and still gripping her tightly with my left arm I used my right hand to hold my shaft and I introduced my swollen cock to her waiting pussy.
She gasped as I penetrated her, I don’t know if she was a virgin or not it’s difficult to tell with these horsy types, many a cherry had been popped while in the saddle.
She was nice and tight thought, but if she was a virgin she wasn’t anymore.
I continued to support her weight with my left arm wrapped around her middle while my right hand grasped the pommel on the saddle to give me some purchase while I fucked her.
She was hugging the horse with her left arm around the horses neck her right hand grasped a handful of main.
She was moaning uncontrollably as I pounded into her,
I was banging her so hard the cheeks of her little arse were slapping against my belly like wave lapping against the side of a boat.
She really was nicely tight and I was relishing my task as I went up her again and again and with every deep penetration she let out little high pitched grunts.
I could feel my self on the threshold now and India had started to squeal with each stroke.
She was wrapped around the horses neck like a rodeo rider as I banged into her again and again and her squeals turned to squeaks and ended with a scream of satisfaction when she went rigid and I finished inside the honey cunnied little Philly.
I left it up her until my cock twitched its last.
We were both breathing hard when I pulled it out of her and she let out a long sigh.
Then I lowered her back to terra firma.
“There’s a good girl” I said and slapped her rump
Then I wiped my wet cock on her shirt tails before redressing myself.
As I left the clearing she never spoke me, she just stood there against the horse still rubbing her naked tits against his shoulder, panting out long sighs jodhpurs still round her knees.
I’m sure she thought that she’d just been fucked by her horse.

A nice bit of rumpy pumpy in the woods was a very pleasant diversion Miss Carrington was a nice tight little fuck, a little weird but I would definitely ride her again.
However I still had the problem of getting back home.
I didn’t think to ask India for directions before I left and she probably wouldn’t have answered me.
But I was thinking to myself that perhaps I should have asked anyway when I spotted a sign post which read Bushy Down 1 1/4 miles.
“That’ll do for me” I said out loud and headed down the path.
A few hundred yards along it I became aware of movement behind me and when I stopped and turned I saw that it was India on her colt.
She was trotting along I could see her tits jiggling inside her shirt, and below her riding hat the find strands of blond hair were dancing around her shoulders and she had a large wet patch on the crotch of her jodhpurs she was going to have a very wet saddle when she got back to the stable.
I stepped to one side to let her pass and she slowed to a walk as she passed me and she gave me a coy little smile and then the honey cunnied Philly riding the honey coloured colt galloped off.
Oh yes I thought to myself I would definitely be back in that particular saddle very soon indeed I thought as I watched her ride away with the tails of her soiled shirt tucked inside her jodhpurs.

An Antidote To Writers Block (Part 05) Thieves And Footpads

It wasn’t very late, sometime after nine, when I left the club I had cast my net among the available femmes swimming about in the meager pool that was the 19th hole on a Monday night and had caught a crab, yes I know I just mixed my metaphors or got confused between fishing and rowing.
So I meandered my way in the fading light across the 18th fairway towards home where I thought I might as well try and scribble out a chapter or two of salacious smut, which would at least keep the publishers happy.
I was a little bit merry, not that that would hamper my writing in anyway, but it did cause me to stumbled a couple of times but I made it to the trees unscathed.
I used the torch on my phone to negotiate my way through the wood and made it to my garden having only fallen once.
I fumbled for my keys as I made my way down the lawn and my eye was drawn to a faint light through the garage window, at first I thought it might be a reflection but when I turned around there was nothing behind me but darkness.
The garage was what was known as a tandem because it was spacious enough for two cars in tandem i.e. end to end.
The up and over door was naturally at the front of the house and at the rear was a window through which I had seen the light and a door which gave access into the garden I could see as I approached that it was ajar.
I grabbed the handle of the garage door and pushed it gently open and reached my hand in feeling my way to the light switches then I pushed the door open wide and hit the two switches simultaneously.
The two lights came on instantly but one of the bulbs, the one at the rear, blew returning it to near darkness.
I should say that I don’t use the garage to keep a car in; I don’t own one for a start, if I want to drive anywhere I hire one.
So the garage was full of everything and nothing, old pieces of furniture, tools, packing boxes and so on, junk mainly, as a result not much light got from one end of the garage to the other because of everything in between.
When the lights first went on I saw the shape of a figure, just one I thought though I couldn’t be sure then the light went off again and I lost the shape in the gloom and there were a lot of shapes that could have been the intruder.
I switched on my phone torch again and in the gloomy light I thought I saw movement and then I felt a push against my shoulder but it was only a glancing one and I was able to stand my ground and I reached out and grabbed my assailant.
“Got you” I said rather unimaginatively as I bundled the intruder towards my workbench and pinned them there while I got a better purchase on them there was a lot of wriggling and during the struggle I got a whack in the face so using the weight of my upper body I pushed them forward so the hands that they were employing to hit me with had to be used to support themselves.
However they weren’t done yet and alternated hands to have quick swipes at me it was at this point while trying to subdue them that my left hand got a handful of tit, and as I held the small pliant little breast I determined my burglar was female, a bit of a minor adjustment and I transferred my weight forward so I had her completely pinned and with my right hand now free I grabbed hold of her arse and thought to myself its definitely a girls arse, a rather fine example in fact.
I don’t mind telling you that finding someone robbing me made me mad and the struggle had got my blood up and having had just enough to drink to not care about the consequences I am ashamed to say that it crossed my mind to just fuck her there and then.
The struggle seemed to have left her for now but I kept her well pinned down while I considered, seriously considered my next move.
I gave her arse another appreciative squeeze and then fortunately
I sobered up enough so it dawned on me what exactly I was considering doing,
“I don’t do this,” I said under my breath “this isn’t me” and I slapped her buttock hard.
“Get out of here” I said to her angrily although I was really angry with myself.
“If I find you in here again you’ll get more of the same, and next time I might not stop”
I walked to the house and made myself a coffee and sat in the kitchen drinking it, shaking my head at my stupidity and sighing with relief that I stopped my self when I did.
I finished my coffee and went to the cupboard above the sink and got out a new light bulb.
A proper, old fashioned 60w bulb, that lit up to its maximum brightness as soon as you flicked the switch, and not one of those low energy things that only reached maximum brightness as you were about to switch it off and leave the room.
I went back out to the garage and reached up and replaced the bulb it lit immediately and when I looked in front of me I saw a girl sitting on the bench.
A skinny waif like creature, with short mousy blonde hair, in a kind of pixie cut, although I suspect it was more by accident than design, wearing a baggy tee shirt and leggings.
“Didn’t you hear me tell you to go?” I asked her
“Yes” she said meekly
“And what I said I’d do if I caught you in here again?” I said trying to sound menacing as I walked towards her
“So why are you still here” I was directly in front of her now
“It was exciting,” she said quietly
“So I don’t mind if you want to”
“If I want to, what?” I asked
“Do what you did before like you said you would” she said falteringly
“I didn’t mean it” I said, “It was just an idle threat, it was meant to scare you, not turn you on”
“How old are you”? I asked her
“17” she replied
“And what’s your name?
“What were you after in here anyway?”
“I was looking for food”
“Why?” I asked
“Because I was hungry”
“Where are you from? Where are your parents?”
“I live in the village, Potters Lane, with my mum”
“Why hasn’t she fed you?” I questioned
“She’s not well,” she said tearfully
“Come in the house” I said
“I’ll make you something”
I took her in the house and sat her in the kitchen while I made her bacon and eggs, which she polished off in no time flat.

She was sitting drinking a hot chocolate
“Why did you stop?” said Maisie
“Before, why did you stop?”
“Because it was wrong, on so many levels” I said
“Was it because you didn’t think I was attractive?”
“I couldn’t see you remember I could only feel you”
She thought for a moment and asked
“But when you turned the light on and you could see me you didn’t want me” she stated
“So was it because I wasn’t pretty enough”?
“Not at all” I reassured her
“You liked me more in the dark when you couldn’t see me” she was getting agitated
It’s true she wasn’t stunningly beautiful but there was something about her elphin features, a distinct cuteness, she was a tomboy certainly but quite sexy.
I didn’t say that to her though
“It wasn’t because I didn’t like what I saw, it’s more complicated than that, I do think you are pretty”
“You don’t think I look like a boy?”
“No I think you look like an urchin” I corrected her and smiled
“Seriously do you think I’m ugly?”
“No I don’t, why would you think that?”
“Everybody thinks I’m ugly and worthless” and she started to cry
“Even my mum” she said between the sobs
I went over to her and hugged her.
And she locked her skinny arms around my neck.
“No one thinks you’re ugly”
“You do,” she sobbed
“No, I think you’re cute”
“Really?” She said then cried into my neck
“So why didn’t you want me”?
I thought about it for a while before I answered
“I didn’t say I didn’t want you Maisie,” I said
“Just not like that, now dry your eyes and I’ll walk you home it’s getting late,” I said giving her my hankie
“You don’t have too”
“I know but I’m going to anyway”

“Does your mum work?” I asked as we walked through the village
“No” she replied, “She’s not well enough”
“What about you”?
“No one’ll give me a job” she said and laughed
“Why not?”
“No don’t tell me because you’re ugly and worthless”
She nodded
“Do you want a job?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t care what I do, anything” she said earnestly
“So if I could get you some work, would you be interested”
“Oh yes”
We were at the end of her road now
“Ok, I’ll see what I can do”
“And you promise you won’t let me down?”
“No way” she said
“Shake on it then” I said and held out my hand
She shook my hand and looked me squarely in my eye
Then she went skipping off down the street.

“Was that Maisie Stewart?” A voice said from behind me
I turned around to see it was Judith Hunt, my next-door neighbour.
“Yes” I said
And then to answer the unasked question I said
“I caught her trying to steal from my garage”
“I see” she said, “Did you call the police?”
“I’m glad” she said, Judith was one of the angels
“Is it true her mother is ill?” I asked her
“Yes she’s a chronic alcoholic” Judith replied sadly
“I’m glad you’ve decided to try and help her”
“I didn’t say I had”
“You don’t have to you’re that kind of man”
“I just have one question,” she said looking at me earnestly
“Because someone has convinced her she’s ugly and worthless”
Judith reached up and kissed my cheek
“Good night Simon”

As it was getting late I decided to walk back along the wooded path that meandered though the woods that bordered the 18th fairway.
With my eyes now accustomed to the dark I was making steady progress and was within a couple of houses from home when I was knocked off my feet by a figure in the dark.
Excellent I thought to myself first a burglar and now a mugger.
I finished up prostate on the ground and my assailant ended up laying on top of me, using my trusty torch I shone it in there face and was surprised to see it was Victoria Braithwaite but not as surprised as I was when she kissed me full on the mouth and inserted her tongue quite expertly and in that instant of insertion I was able to determine the taste of alcohol and a certain degree of skill in her tongues application so I did the only thing I could do and that was kiss her back,
Victoria Braithwaite was a rather plain middle-aged woman just the wrong side of 50, she was quite small and slim choosing to dress in the twin set and tweed style, if style is the correct word, with sensible shoes and tan coloured tights or pop sock on her trouser days.
Often referred to behind her back as the prudish Miss Braithwaite or virginal Victoria, so to find her on top of me and have her initiate a rather pleasing engagement of tongue and I don’t mind saying she was a damn good kisser, was out of the norm.
I certainly wasn’t expecting it and nor was I expecting what happen next, which was for her hand to unzip my fly and pull out my semi through the opening.
I can tell you it didn’t stay semi for long for then she disengaged her mouth from mine and went to work on my cock, and the expert way she set about her task I could tell that mine was not the first member she'd had her lips around.
The prudish Miss Braithwaite gives great head I said to my self
then out loud "oh Miss Braithwaite" as she worked on me, talk about still waters running deep.
It was at this moment that she stopped, startled by a noise in the wood, and quickly stood up and I noticed that as she stood up one of her sensible shoes was missing.
Her absent Brown brogue had obviously come off her foot when we both fell.
Victoria backed into the shadow of an old twisted oak and I joined her there my erection still protruding from my open fly.
As we stood there in close proximity she didn’t say anything but her breathing was quick and shallow.
After a minute or so and satisfied that no one was in the wood
Her lips returned to mine and her hand went to my shaft and tugged on it roughly.
I fumbled inside her twin set and unhooked her bra and moved my hands quickly to her breasts.
She had scrawny little tits like fried eggs but her nipples were as fat as my little finger when aroused, which they quickly were.
Then as her kissing became more urgent and her grip on my rod more taught I began to hoist up her tweed skirt until I could gain access to her underwear.
I yanked down her tights, which gave little resistance over her narrow hips and boney arse and the white silk of her big French knickers quickly followed suit.
Once both tights and drawers were at knee height Victoria accommodated me by extracting her unshod foot from the unwanted items.
I then ran my hand up the outside of her thigh and fondled her arse
It was a nice arse, soft and squeezable but I soon worked my way teasingly to her generous thicket and then slid my fingers in between her juicy lips.
Those comments around the club about her being a dried up old hag were certainly a long way from the truth.
She was still kissing me hard and snorting in great lungs full of air through her nose.
Though still gripping my tool in one hand Miss Braithwaite used her other to undo my trouser button and yank down my Chinos and bare my arse.
I removed my fingers from her honeyed lips and backed her closer to the tree behind her and Victoria’s narrow hips and small buttocks fitted neatly in the crook of the oak.
But she kept her thighs together when I had her in position
"Am I just to be another conquest Simon?” she asked
“Just another notch in your headboard?"
“Yes” I said truthfully “Very probably”
“That will have to do then” she said and opened up for me and I slid into her and when I entered there was no pop of an over ripe cherry.
The way she received my offering, the way she wrapped herself around me pulling me deeper into her, I knew she had received others before me.
So I went at her greedily, her legs wrapped around my hips,
Her arms wrapped around my neck and shoulders, growling out contented moans to my rhythmic penetrations,
As I pumped her harder these turned to guttural groans as her pleasure heightened they grew to howls, the closer to climax the higher the pitch.
Onward and onward frenetically climbing until crescendo and she screamed as I shot.
We stayed in our final position for several minutes, panting loudly, my cock still twitched inside her and I could feel her muscles contracting around my shaft.
She made several long pleasurable languorous sighs.
I kissed her neck and she hugged me tight.

We dressed quickly in the dark although Victoria went home with her knickers and tights in her handbag.
“I hope we can do that again sometime,” I said
“Oh yes, Can we?” Victoria replied
I walked her to her gate and we exchanged a long liquid kiss as we parted.

As I completed my walk home I thought to myself how funny life could be.
Who would have thought that a plain middle-aged Victoria Braithwaite could be such a pleasurable fuck?
It just goes to show that even the prim and proper ones can be an absolute delight once you unlace their corsets.

An Antidote To Writers Block (Part 04) Raising The Dead

It was the first week in June when I found myself sitting in the reception at Collins, Hooper and Petersen, the firm of Solicitors handling my late Uncles estate.
I wasn’t there for anything specific it just happened that I was up in London for the day.
I had an important lunchtime meeting with my publishers and a less important Dinner meeting with my agent so as I was left with some time to kill and as I was roughly in their neck of the woods I thought I would just sandwich them in the middle and pop in to make sure they weren’t dragging their heels.
It was a case of out of sight out of mind with these people, although they always remembered you when money was due.
Anyway I sat there for about an hour waiting for Ms Petersen to become available, whom I presumed to be some Manish ball breaker who enjoyed keeping people waiting.
Any way when I saw an attractive woman, tall and slender in her early thirties wearing a tailored business suit and spectacles, I thought to myself she must be Ms Petersen’s personal assistant.
“Mr. Fisher? She said holding out her hand “sorry to keep you waiting”
I took the offered hand, which she gripped firmly
“Camilla Petersen, so pleased to meet you”
“Like wise, please call me Simon”
She smiled broadly and said
“Would you like to come through then Simon?”
She led the way and I followed on, the receptionist caught me staring at Ms Petersen’s rather delightful arse.
She frowned at me; I just shrugged and carried on looking at the rolling buttocks.
I spent a very pleasant hour with the very un-Manish Ms Petersen who might still be a ball breaker but not in the way I first thought
We went through the papers and she assured me that everything would be tied up with a bow in the coming few weeks.
I must admit that I didn’t take in every thing she was saying, due to a combination of the posh plummy tones of her voice which I found very seductive, always a turn on, the very horny way she peered over the top of her specs and the fact she was very pleasing on the eye and I’ve always had a soft spot for posh tottie.
When she leant over the desk I could stare down her blouse and when she was sat back I could stare at her magnificent long legs. But when she walked about the room I could feast my eyes on everything in turn.
Anyway the time came to leave and we shook hands again and I thought I wouldn’t want her grip my old chap that tight or would I?
I turned and walked past the receptionist who gave me a disdainful look so I looked down her top at her quite pleasing rack restrained in a pink satin bra, and when she realized I was staring at her baps she quickly covered her self up and let out a rather disgusted exclamation.
I laughed out loud.

The Dinner meeting was just as tedious as I thought it would be,
Agents are all cast in the same mould, they all talk big, make ludicrous forecasts of your prospects, name drop shamelessly and squeeze every penny out of their clients as is humanly possible and I’m sure that mine, newly acquired though he is, is no exception.
He chose a trendy nouvelle cuisine restaurant off Regents Street serving high flavour, low-calorie, and substance lacking dishes, where minor celebrities are known to dine.
The food was good, if you like tiny artistic arrangements the size of a Hors d'oeuvre, on a slab of welsh slate but you cant live on it.
When it was time to leave I was hungrier than I was when I arrived, and even though he made a big show about buying me such a “wonderful” Dinner I knew he had probably already figured out a way of claiming it as a legitimate business expense for himself while actually stiffing me with the bill.
I stopped at the first fast food joint that I came to which happened to be a Burger King and I ordered the biggest one I could see on the menu.
Having sufficiently filled the hollow with reconstituted meat, saturated fats and carbohydrates I ambled my way to my hotel.
I would have liked to stay at the Langham but it was a bit rich for my blood so I found a place close by for a third of the price.

I was sitting at the bar at St Gregory’s Hotel, drinking a large Gin and Tonic and doing a spot of people watching, an occupational hazard for writers, but the bar was so empty that I exhausted that exercise in less than five minutes.
So I turned my thoughts to Georgia, my lovely brunette girlfriend who would be home from University in a couple of days and I was looking forward to spending some quality time expanding her sexual horizons.
And it was just when I was preoccupied replaying a particularly salacious scenario in my head when a voice broke in.
“Simon Fisher?” it said
I turned around and the voice belonged to an attractive looking woman, pretty face, blue eyes, soft shoulder length brown hair, 5t 3 or 4, early thirties, nice figure, wearing a black cocktail dress, thick black tights and heels, whom I didn’t recognize
Clearly some woman that I’d slept with at some time and the encounter was so unmemorable I instantly forgot her, how embarrassing.
So I tried to picture her dressed in a different out fit, casual wear, uniform or work clothes and then it registered.
“Dr Andrews” I replied, not a woman I had slept with and then forgotten phew she was my GP.
“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked.
“Not at all” I said “please” and gestured to the neighboring stool.
“Can I get you a drink?” I asked
“Thank you, yes,” she said and to the barman who had miraculously appeared “White wine please”
“And for you sir?” he asked
“I’ll have the same again please”
While we waited for our drinks she asked
“How’s the knee Simon?”
“It’s very good, no problems at all Doctor”
“That’s good, now please call me Claire, I try to play down the Doctor bit when I’m out, otherwise people have an annoying habit of telling me about their complaints.
And she laughed a rather delightful laugh.
That was when I noticed the wedding ring, which is to me what Kryptonite is to Superman.
I have a strict rule about fishing in another mans pond, a rule which I have only on a handful of occasions broken; I took a moment to think of one such recent occasion with the lovely Pandora.
But I thought there is nothing wrong with having a drink with a beautiful woman and indulging in some polite conversation.
So over a drink or three I explained how I ended up at St Gregory’s after several boring meetings and she told me about the cocktail party for a retiring colleague at the Portland Hospital.
And in slightly hushed tones we both said we would have preferred to be staying at the Langham.
I also found out that she didn’t get out and socialize much due to her husband’s illness, she didn’t go into details but it was serious and chronic, I didn’t press her further.
By the time we got to the fourth drink we were the only two customers left and we were getting a bit loud.
“Do you really have a literary agent”? She asked
I nodded superciliously
“My receptionist says you write mucky books” Claire stated and laughed loudly.
“We all have to make a living”
It was shortly after that we got the distinct impression the barman had had enough even if we hadn’t.
The convention is that the staff is obliged to keep the bar open all the while guests are wanting a drink but in reality they had to close at some point and you could still get a drink from the night porter if you wanted a nightcap.
So we bade the long-suffering barman a good night, even though it was almost 3 am and headed, somewhat unsteadily towards our rooms.
Accompanied by raucous laughter we stumbled into the lift and unable to press the button for the floor that we actually wanted we decided to hit them all.
When we reached the third floor Claire announced
“This is me, I am home”
I was on the forth floor myself but the code of chivalry dictated
What I must do.
“I will see you to your door dear lady” I said attempting a bow
“You are too kind Sir Knight” she responded trying to curtsy.
I walked Claire rather unsteadily to her door and once she had managed to finally use the swipe card correctly and open the door she announced.
“Nightcap” and before I had chance to decline Claire dragged me into the room where after some intense negotiations it was decided that coffee was the order of the day.
The room was very nice, quite spacious, much the same as my own I imagined though I hadn’t actually seen it.
I had the porter take my bag up to the room for me and I went straight in the bar.
Claire had kicked of her shoes and was sitting on the sofa with her legs up and I was facing her, also shoeless, sat on a Regency stripped chair that I had pulled out from under the desk.
So we sat there in her room drinking copious amounts of coffee and chatting, during the course of the conversation she elaborated a little further about her husband’s illness.
He had been in a very serious car crash some 9 years earlier and was severely, physically and mentally disabled.
She tried to tell me more but tears started to well up in her eyes and then they ran down her cheeks as she sobbed.
So Mr. Chivalry again stepped into action. I knelt on the floor beside her and offered myself up to comfort her with arms open wide “I’m sorry” she said gratefully accepting my open arms and burying her tearstained face in his neck.
I made encouraging noises and stroked her back but being a shoulder to cry on was the full extent of my expertise.
We held that position for some time until Claire’s sobs began to get shallower and shallower and eventually abated.
But still she held on to me tightly and began to nuzzle my neck and I could feel her breath on my skin, which is when the beast, who had been content to rest easy in my pants all evening, stirred and opened his eye.
It appeared that Kryptonite was not what it used to be.
While still nuzzling my neck her hands began to caress up and down my back and her nuzzles turned to kisses.
I reciprocated the caresses and in an instant her mouth was on mine.
Her lips were soft, her mouth was hot and her tongue was electric.
Claire’s hands began to claw at my shirt dragging it free of my waistband then with great urgency she pulled her self up so she was seated in front of me as her fingers fumbled at my shirt buttons. When she had accomplished her task she almost ripped the shirt off my back.
Then those trembling hands were on my flesh and she sighed and exhaled through her nose.
I had one hand on the zip of her dress and tugged it down without ceremony while my other hand pulled the dress off her shoulder reluctantly she released her grip on my torso long enough to allow her dress to fall to her waist, she quickly wriggled her arms free of the sleeves and they returned to their previous task.
Her kissing became more intense as I turned my attention to her bra and released the fastener between the cups and replaced the black lace with my hands.
She snorted though her nose as I toyed with her stiffening nipples.
I pushed her backwards onto the sofa and broke my lips away from her mouth and quickly transferred my affections to her dark pink teats sucking on them like a hungry child as my hand began its trek along the inside of her thigh, only the 70 denier fabric of her black tights between me and the silky skin of her inner thigh.
I loved the feel of the fabric against my palm; it felt warm and welcoming in its density.
I didn’t like tights that stretched so far they became opaque and they felt course and cheap.
I know for a pervert I’m very fussy but what can I say? I like what I like.
So as my hand crept up ever-higher Claire’s firm thighs opened and closed in anticipation and she moaned quietly as her buttocks squirmed on the sofa, her breaths becoming deep and erratic.
Then I had reached Shangri-La I could feel the heat from her pussy and as I looked down at her she was in a frenzy, her head was rolling back and forth, she was biting her lip and pulling her hair.
I returned to her breasts, which were rising and falling and I could hear her heart pounding in her chest.
I stopped sucking on her tits again choosing instead to watch her as I reached the heart of her fire and I fingered her though her tights they fabric slipping and sliding on her wet gash until her cream oozed through the fabric, Claire wriggled beneath my hand and moaned like a whore.
Claire’s hands gripped the edges of the sofa until her knuckles whitened and her panting came in course rasping breaths until she cried out in orgasm.
I reached up under her dress with both hands and smartly yanked the tights from her arse and down her thighs, then I went up there again for her pants this time she obliged me by lifting her arse off the sofa, the black lace rolled easily off her buttocks but as I tugged her wet knickers from her crotch they made a sharp ripping sound like a plaster being removed.
The action simultaneously making Claire gasp and my cock involuntarily twitch.
I then pulled them all the way off one leg and holding that leg by the ankle I began kissing her all the way down her leg so I could give her a thorough muffing.
I got as far as the back of her knee when she said
“Oh God I’m ready Simon” she panted
“Please don’t make me wait,” she begged
So I hurriedly undid my trousers and bared my throbbing dick
Her legs were spread wide to receive me, a neatly clipped triangle of brunette pussy hair pointing the way towards the dewy pink lips of her waiting cunny.
I slid my hands down her outer thighs until I had her buttock in hand and then I thrust my cock into her grateful cunt which was like wearing a warm sheath of liquid velvet, Claire let out a low animal growl which excited me greatly.
And with each successive length I gave her she exhaled a low animal grunt
My hands left her buttocks and moved to her breast
Her legs were around me now and the grunts were turning to squeals and yelps.
The strokes were getting shorter
The squeals were turning to moans
Quicker and quicker
Her moans more urgent more guttural more animals
Faster and faster
Louder and louder
Writhing and wriggling
Quicker and quicker
Louder and louder
And then crescendo.
Claire’s whole body seemed to be in spasm before me as I emptied into her pulsing and twitching.
I fell forward and her arms went round be like a sprung trap and she kissed me wetly on the mouth, which I reciprocated.
I was about to withdraw from her cunny when she said
“No don’t take it out yet,” she begged
“It’s been so long since I had a man inside me, leave it in me a while longer Simon”
So I obliged and we just lay there entwined.

“I could be struck off,” Claire said as she lay on the sofa, the front of her dress now pulled down to cover her modesty and her fanny,
The top lying loosely over her breasts and bizarrely her tights and knickers were still in a tangle around her ankle
I was sat on the regency striped chair mostly naked my trousers and pants still around my ankles which I didn’t think bizarre at all.
“I’ll stroke you off if you like,” I volunteered
“No I mean it. I could be struck off for sleeping with a patient,” she said earnestly
“Well we’ll just have to stay awake then” I offered
“It’s the staying awake part that you get struck off for”
There was silence for a few moments
“How long?” I asked
“You said, “It’s been so long since I had a man inside me””
“How long?”
“9 years” she replied
“What ever since your husband’s accident”?
Then she suddenly sat up and knelt in front of me and kissed me.
“No regrets though” she said
“Not on my part either” I said
Then she started pulling my pants and trousers off followed by my socks and then I was completely naked
Claire smiled warmly at me and kissed me as her fingers started caressing my flaccid member.
“I thought you were worried about being struck off”
“I’ll only get struck off once, no matter how many times we do it”
“Fair enough”
My manhood was now wide-awake and she was tugging gently on my shaft.
Her lips left mine and moved immediately to my cock.
Her tongue feathering my purple head before devouring me in one delightful mouthful.
“Oh Honey that’s so good” I said
She was giving me such great head for someone who had been on the bench for 9 years it was truly outstanding.
I remembered thinking as she gobbled me that it must be muscle memory. It was certainly something my muscle and me would remember for some time.
She sucked me back to life producing a wonderful boner
Well I suppose Orthopedics was her field, so bones were her specialty.
As her mouth left me and she stood up she prepared to climb aboard my cock still moist with her saliva and standing tall and proud due to her oral attentions.
The front of her dress had flopped down exposing her beautiful breasts and her lacy black bra was still loosely around her shoulders like a redundant shoulder holster.
I halted her progress with an outstretched hand.
“I want you completely naked”
She quickly complied, wriggling out of her dress and discarding her bra with a shrug.
Her tights remained attached to her ankle but I let that go as the resulting vision before me made my cock twitch in anticipation.
I gave her a smile and she climbed on my lap and slithered down me and as she did Claire let out a long breathy sigh.
She wrapped her arms tightly around my neck and hooked her heels around the chair legs and then rode me on the chair, pounding on my shaft with her velvety wet pussy, her pelvis pumping on my piston frenetically.
My hands gripped her firm buttocks as they rose and fell on me her squeals and moans in my ear through gritted teeth growing in intensity as the pace quickened.
Faster, faster
Louder, louder
Until she came with an animal yell and I pulsed inside her as I ejaculated.
I stayed in her again and I could feel her pussy hugging my cock.

As we lay stretched out in the bath together, Claire was lying back against my chest, I remember thinking you couldn’t do this at a Travel Lodge.
Claire had loosely tied her hair up to keep it out of the water and I kissed her neck her breasts were under the water but her nipples kept breaking the surface.
It was a very relaxing bath and I was glad Claire had persuaded me to share one with her before bed.
“Its strange isn’t it?” she said suddenly
“What is”? I asked
“Well I haven’t been unfaithful to my husband in 9 years and then I do it three times in one crazy night”
“We only did it twice unless I missed something”
“I know, but the night is young,”
We got out the bath and began drying each other
“Now I’m all clean so you could get me dirty again” she said and kissed me.
I had been sitting on the edge of the bath drying her legs but I dropped her towel and slip my hand between her legs and fingered her crack I couldn’t believe it she was creamed already
“We could do it again couldn’t we” she said
“You could certainly,” I said exposing my limp member; I explained that he needs to recharge his batteries before he can go again.
She snorted
“Show some respect for my fallen hero,” I scolded
“Sod that” and she went to her medical bag.
She rummaged in the bag for a few minutes before her hand immerged holding a large blue capsule, which she handed to him.
“What is it?” I asked
“Viagra with attitude” I sometimes get given stuff by pharmaceutical reps.
“Is it safe?”
I took the pill and we continued drying each other while we awaited lift off.

We sat on the edge of the bed kissing; Claire’s hand was on my cock, which was really reluctant to join the party.
“Just be patient,” she whispered softly
And I could feel the beginnings of life returning to my stricken soldier, she too could feel its rebirth and her kisses were becoming more intense, slowly but surely life was returning and he was now able to stand unsupported but Claire’s hand still busied itself playing with my shaft.
Then like Lazarus it rose fully from the dead and as its purple head emerged from its pink cocoon the resurrecting was complete.
Not only was my cock now up and throbbing but I could feel the blood pumping through my veins and I felt fantastic.
“Lift off” I said and she laughed.
She turned away to crawl onto the bed but I grabbed her hips and held her firmly as I plunged my pulsating cock between her moist pink lips.
“Oh yes do me like that” she rasped
So I banged into her again and again.
She was moaning and grunting like an animal I felt invigorated?
I could have gone on and on and on.
Claire came loudly but I kept on.
She came again much louder this time and collapsed on the bed
“I don’t think I can go on Simon”
I rolled her over onto her back and said
“You loaded the gun Doc now you have to let me fire it”
And I slipped into her again and fucked her hard, stroke after stroke after stroke.
Until she let out a long loud orgasmic scream as I spaffed into her.
She lay on the bed covered in sweat panting hard and licking her lips.
“Well that was worth doing “ she said between pants and laughed.
Then came an urgent knock on the door, she got up unsteadily to her feet and she laughed again.
Then there was another loud knock on the door.
I had to help her into her dressing gown and then wrapped a towel around my self.
There was a third knock just as Claire turned the handle.
It was the receptionist, Summer, according to her badge, and behind her the concierge.
“Is everything alright madam?”
“Oh God yes” Claire answered still a little wobbly.
“Somebody reported hearing screaming coming from your room”
“Yes sorry, that was me” she said coyly
“We were…”
“And I um … you know …. Rather loudly”
Summer suddenly realized what Claire was getting at and blushed.
“Ah I see” Summer said, “ok I understand”
“Perhaps you could try to keep the noise down”
Just before Claire closed the door I heard the concierge ask
“What was that all about?”
“The lucky cow was coming” Summer replied jealously
Then the door closed and Claire laughed and hugged me
It was seven o’clock when we finally went to bed and slept for a few hours.

Embarrassingly Summer was still on reception when we checked out at lunchtime and it seemed that every head in the St Gregory’s Hotel lobby had turned to watch us leave.
The concierge gave us both a wry smile as h held open the door for us.
Once out side we both laughed.
“Well that’s one Hotel I can never stay at again,” Claire said

An Antidote To Writers Block (Part 03) Opening Pandora’s Box

I am a writer of erotic novels; bodice rippers and slutty romances and being a writer, of any kind, suited me very well indeed.
It suited in many ways, but the main benefit was that I was able to work at home, so had no tedious commute every day and my working day was flexible to the point that some days I didn’t write at all.
This afforded me the opportunity of playing a round of Golf during the working week when most people had their noses to the grindstone.
And it was on such a day, a Tuesday in fact, at the end of May when I had arranged to make up a foursome with Pandora Parkinson-Brown, wife of the club captain, Victoria Braithwaite a slim plain middle-aged little woman and a big red haired unit by the name of Dawn Symonds.
Well imagine my disappointment when on my arrival at the clubhouse I was met with the news that the prudish Miss Braithwaite and the well stacked Miss Symonds wouldn’t be playing today and it was just Pandora and I.
I wasn’t too disappointed by the absence of the bookish spinster but I was particularly looking forward to getting to know the well-built six-foot tall redhead with the massive mammals a little better. I would be lying if I said the thought of getting up at the crack of Dawn had not crossed my mind.
I have never had a “type” when it comes to women but
I know what I like, unfortunately, knowing what you like and getting it are quite often incompatible.
However it was not to be today, I’m sure there will me another opportunity and besides I liked Pandy a lot and she was great company.

It was a pleasant morning; warmer than it had been the previous few days, with the skies mainly blue expanse broken only by the occasional passing cloud.
The wind that had been affecting everyone’s scorecards of the past week had finally died away so I was expecting a pleasant round.
Considering the clement weather the course was very quiet,
We tee-ed off at 10.30 with no one waiting behind us and the twosome in front of us were probably two holes ahead.
Pandora was looking as lovely as the weather; she was wearing a large peaked white cap with her shortish blonde hair scraped into a pony tail sticking out the back.
The rest of her outfit was all matching, predominately white with yellow trim, Polo shirt, short flared skirt and ankle socks.
Her ensemble was then finished off with white Golf shoes and a yellow glove.
It was as she retrieved her ball from the cup on the first green I noticed that even her knickers were white with yellow piping.

Now I had noticed that since I had started writing bodice rippers, which is according to my mother effectively soft porn
I seemed to be permanently horny and I looked at almost every woman with a renewed appreciation if not with a pornographers eye, Victoria Braithwaite being the exception that proves the rule.

However my horniness aside, Pandora was still undoubtedly a very attractive woman and even if I was not a scribbler of slutty romances I would still appreciate her finer points like the way her hips moved when she strikes the ball they way her tits kept moving after the ball had gone, the way she wiggled as she walked down the fairway and the way her buttocks clenched when she was preparing to putt.
So as we played our way around the course I came to appreciate just how attractive she was, her body was nicely toned and she had a nice shape and over all was in very good order for a woman just turned forty.
But despite my recent penchant for all things crumpet I have always tried to avoid fishing in someone else’s pond no matter how attractive the body of water might be and the lovely Pandora was married to the club Capt and apart from the moral issue he was a big bloke.

Well despite my horniness and the distraction of Pandy
I had managed to card a pretty fair score all in all but Pandora was having a great round and by the time we reached the 17th tee Pandy was 7 shots ahead of me.
Which didn’t bother me on any level, I am not a macho man who can’t bear to lose to a woman and quite frankly I have just never been a competitor.
It has never mattered to me who wins as long as its enjoyable and playing with Pandora had been fun.
I can hear my mother saying now “it’s only a game”
to some of course its more than that and winning is all that matters I always avoid playing with people like that if I can help it.
Pandy I’m pleased to say was not one of them.

The 17th was a blind hole, although it was a par three it was a very tricky hole.
You had to hit off an elevated tee over some 90 yards of nasty rough culminating in a hundred foot drop down a sandstone cliff to the green below which had bunkers on three sides.
As you follow the path from the 16th green it passes close to the cliff edge and affords you a clear view of the green, if the green is in use you make your way to the tee and wait for the bell to ring before you play on.
As we looked down from the path the green was empty so we knew we were safe to play.
I went first as I had won the previous hole and I hit a very decent shot right down the middle.
Then Pandy hit hers and although she cleared the rough she uncharacteristically sliced it off to the right.
"Oh shit,” she exclaimed also uncharacteristic
"Never mind Pand" I said, “you might be safe there”
We collected our trolleys and followed the long winding path down to the green.
When we got there my ball was on the edge of the green and I thought to myself I should easily make par.
Pandy’s ball though was no where to be seen, so we left our trolleys at the front of the green and we went in search of it Pandy in front of me a short iron in hand in case she had to hack the ball out.
Once passed the apron we entered the woods, after the long walk down from the tee it was nice to get out of the sun for a minute and enjoy the cool dappled shade.
After an initial clearing the woods got very thick very quickly.
There was an old fallen tree halting our progress with gaps beneath it clearly visible.
"It must have rolled under here" she said as she stood on tiptoe and lent over the trunk amongst the tangle of branches
the result of which was a perfect view of her pristine white pants.
She was thrashing about at the undergrowth the other side of the tree with her club in an effort to find her ball and having no luck and with each whack resulted in a delightful quiver of her buttocks.
Now if I had been a gentleman I would have offered to find her ball for her but I would then have been denied the magnificent view of her white clad buttocks jiggling before my lascivious eyes.
“It must be in here” she said thrashing about some more
“Can you see anything from where you are?
“No I can’t see it yet” I replied when actually seeing quite a lot from where I was.
She wriggled forward slightly until her toes were off the floor
And more of her lovely arse was visible.
Then to my absolute delight in an effort to prevent her overbalancing her left leg shot out side ways and the resulting rearrangement of her buttocks caused her left cheek to become completely exposed as the knicker leg rolled between her cheeks.
Here we go again I thought.
I could hear Pandora muttering as she wriggled again on the log and wispy strands of curly hair appeared visible against her white panties.
This told me three important things firstly she kept her beaver wild and untamed, very sexy to me, second she was a natural blonde, not important but generally I like the collar and cuffs to match and thirdly we had passed the point of no return.
I moved in closer.
“Can you see it yet?” Was Pandora’s muffled shout
“No not yet” I replied lustfully staring at her crotch
Then another wriggle and there it was I was staring libidinously at her glistening Minge, My first glimpse of Pandora’s Box
“I can see it now” I said,
“Oh good, do you think you can reach it?”
“Oh yes Pandy no problem I’ll have my hand on it any second”
I prepared my approach so I could slip my two fingers straight between her lips before she knew what was happening.
“There I’ve got it” I said as my fingers entered her damp crack
“oh Simon, what…? Mm”
She was only slightly moist when I first fingered her gash but she lathered up very quickly to my ministrations and soon she was dripping.
She started to wriggle backwards and at first I thought she wanted me to stop so I hesitated and prepared to withdraw my now wet fingers.
But to my delight she just wanted to gain some purchase.
Her gloved hand gripped a branch and her right hand discarded the club and was now supporting her weight on the main trunk.
Then she began rubbing her pussy against my static fingers.
As I continued she was moaning rhythmically to my touch the tone of her moans was as syrupy as her pussy.
Then I brought her to climax and it was time to fuck her.
As I continued to stroke her quim, I dropped my trousers and took out my cock, pulling on it to expose my purple helmet.
Then I pushed my thumb inside the elastic of her panties and pulled the fabric aside to fully exposed her hairy cunny, she moaned as I then rubbed my knob along her wet slit and her juice glistened in the dappled sunlight and I repeated this again and again and each time her moan grew louder then she could wait no longer and she wriggled back towards me like a fish and slid down my shaft letting out the loudest moan of pleasure as I entered, her velvet juices immersed my member like warm honey and she moaned audibly with pleasure.
As she gripped on to the tree and I pounded her pussy from behind I reached up and yanked her shirt from her waist band then quickly scooped up the front of her sports bra to release her ripe fruits which I greedily groped and squeezed.
Her moans gave way to yelps and squeals growing ever more intense as my rhythm increased until she screamed and her body shuddered and then I shot into her, my cock was still twitching inside her hot pussy as she relaxed and let out a long languorous sigh.
After a moment or two, I kissed her on the neck as I slowly withdrew my cock from her comfortable cunt and she sighed again.
As I redressed myself Pandora was still clinging onto the tree completely spent.
Pandy was still periodically sighing as she lay in exactly the same position as she was when I pulled out of her and with each sigh her left leg would twitch.
I tucked a folded hankie in my pants to make sure I completed the round without sporting a wet patch on my trousers.
I smiled wryly and thought to myself as I stared at the exhausted Pandora and the bejeweled patch around her Minge that she was going to be wet all the way back to the club house and then some.
After a few minutes and several more satisfied sighs she slid herself off the tree trunk and her legs almost gave way, she giggled.
The extent and depth of her convulsive orgasms had left her unsteady on her feet.
“Are you ok” I asked
“Oh yes” she said very definitely and smiled coyly
Once she regained the full use of her legs she turned away from the tree and she was completely disheveled.
Her cap was all askew, her sports bra was almost up around her neck, she had one magnificent breast exposed its teat pink and proud, it’s neighbour although covered could not conceal its equally erect nipple.
She eventually got herself redressed and relatively tidy though to me she did still have the look of a woman, who had just had a good seeing to.
Then she suddenly remembered her discarded club, which she managed to reach through one of the gaps under the tree. However once on hands and knees I could see clearly her knickers were still well up her crack.
She stood up and brushed the dirt off her knees and straightened her clothes
“Knickers” I said
I put my hand up her skirt and squeezed her ample cheek.
“Oh” she said, laughed and then blushed, then in a perfectly executed movement, not unlike a ballet step, involving her leg swinging sideways, both knees bending and the introduction of one hand up her skirt, her pants were reset to their original setting.
So with both of us fully redressed we were ready to leave the wood.
“Wait a minute” I said
“What? What?” she said frantically rechecking her clothes
“What have I forgotten?” she said pleadingly
“This” I said planting a kiss on her lips
“Oh” Pandora said, “I’m glad we didn’t forget that”
And then she kissed me back in a long warm liquid kiss.
Then we broke away and smiled at each other briefly then emerged into the sunlight.
Then she stopped suddenly
“What about my ball?” she asked, “Should I take a drop?”
I looked at her and smiled
“No that’s fine lets just call it a Gimme” I replied
And she blushed deeply
As she walked towards her trolley I could see she was still a little unsteady on her feet, which for some reason caused my cock to twitch.
I followed her down the path and watched her stop by the bell
I walked up and stood directly behind her.
Beside the bell was a sign
“Ring the bell once, when finished”
“Go on then Pandy” I said
“They must be referring to you”
She blushed and turned away
Her gloved hand grabbed the bell rope
Her right hand reached behind her to hold mine.
And she rang the bell 5 times

On the par 5, 18th Pandora’s game deserted her and she dropped six shots but she still beat me by one stroke.
When we got to the clubhouse we sat on the terrace having a drink,.
We were sitting quietly reflecting on the day’s events, Pandora with a self-satisfied smile about her lips, when Judith Hunt, my next-door neighbour, joined us.
“Hello you two, have you had a good round?”
She asked picking up our scorecards
“Bless me Pandy what happened on the 18th you really went to pieces”
“My mind was obviously elsewhere” she replied
“Back in the woods” I whispered
Pandora kicked me under the table
“What was that?” asked Judith
“Nothing” I said.
“And what about you” Judith said perusing my card
“You got a par on 17?” she said in astonishment
“Yes” I said, “I think I’ve found my fauvourite hole”
Pandy sprayed the mouthful of drink she was about to swallow all over a passing waiter.
And immediately went scarlet, though everyone assumed it because she nearly choked.

Judith went on to say my application had been accepted and
I was the latest “Member of the Club” I think it’s going to be a big title to live up to but I felt I had made a passable start.

An Antidote To Writers Block (Part 02) Family Relations

Simon Fisher’s star was definitely in the ascendency but the change in the fortunes of my writing career was not universally well received, my publisher liked it, my new agent loved it, the bank manager was ecstatic about it but my mother was disgusted by it.
Furthermore my darling supportive mother said she would rather tell people I was in prison than tell them I wrote “bodice rippers”, or as my father called them “Trouser ticklers”.
Still every cloud had a silver lining, this one being that mum would ignore me for a while and leave me in peace, which suited me as I was looking to find a suitable recipient for my resident lust.
I should perhaps explain but since I embarked on my latest literary journey, my agent came up with that phrase, but since I began I have been permanently horny.
Georgia had gone back to University and wouldn’t return until after her exams, Emily and Jenny, the flirty virgins were also deep into their exams and the weather had kept me off the Golf course and everyone else indoors.
However as it was Friday also known as gardening day, or Frankie’s day, there was some hope on the horizon.
Frankie would be in my sights.
She was my buxom ginger gardener, a big chested thirty something with a great unruly shock of ginger hair.
Not at first glance an obvious choice for my advances you might say and I would normally have agreed with you.
I suppose you’re thinking that I’m a really shallow man, any port in a storm, that kind of thing.
But the truth of the matter is that I really started to fancy her after I discovered she had hairy armpits which for some reason really turned me on.
I extrapolated that the unruly mass of hair plus hairy armpits equaled the prospect of a very hairy growler, and when I mused on the prospect of her having unshaven legs it gave me the very slightest hint of an additional trouser tickle.
So I’m not the shallow person you thought I was I am in fact just a pervert.
Now she’s quite a muscular unit about 5ft 10 probably not the most agile partner and she would not be easy to maneuver but I estimated she would not be left wanting in the stamina department.
So it was while I was staring through the window watching the robust Frankie bent over a planter, her dungaree’s stretched tight across her well-defined buttocks that I thought to myself I would love to have a crack at that.
I was about to formulate a plan as to how I was going to impress her with my dibber when the phone rang.
“Oh shit” I said reading the caller ID.
“Hi mum, its lovely to hear from you” I said with as much sincerity as I could muster
“Hello Simon, you’re not getting any better at that are you? Listen I’ll get straight to the point, Auntie Liz and Uncle Ken have asked if you could put Molly up for a week, and I said yes on your behalf”
“What?” I said shocked
“You remember Molly, you were inseparable when you were kids” she continued oblivious to my protest.
“Yes I do remember her but why the hell did you do that” I shouted
“Calm down Simon, for goodness sake, stop making such a fuss.
She is family after all, how bad can it be?
The girl’s doing some training at Kiddingstone general and it’ll save her the cost of a hotel”
“But it’s not Convenient” I protested
“It will interfere with my work”
“I’m not even going to discuss your so called work” she retorted
“You’ll have to call them back and say no” I said firmly
“I can’t possibly do that; it will make me look foolish”
“But it’s really going to cramp my style” I said as I spotted one of Frankie’s nipples standing proud through her tee-shirt.
“You haven’t got any style Simon especially since you started writing pornography” mum retorted
“Now listen Simon this will really help to cement family relations you know how bad things have been between the families, how strained and difficult it’s been since Uncle John impregnated Kens sister Lucy”
“Apart from the inconvenience” I explained “I don’t really want a stranger in the house”
“Nonsense you used to get on really well when you were children”
“I haven’t seen her for 10 years” I responded but I knew I was losing
“Molly will be no trouble at all she was always a nice girl and you’ll hardly see her anyway”
“She’s arriving Saturday” she said hurriedly
“But” I interrupted
“Must dash Bye” and she was gone.
“Bollocks” I said and put down the phone.
How was I going to cope with her in my house, perhaps I could go and stay in a Hotel.
Mum was right Molly and I did get on well when we were kids, she was five years younger than me and yes we were inseparable.
But what mum didn’t know was that when I was seventeen the 12 year old Molly tried to kiss me and that was only the first time she tried at every opportunity until when she was 14 I found her naked in my bed.
I don’t know how it may have escalated after that all I can say is that I was mightily relieved when Uncle John knocked up Lucy and we stopped spending holidays together.
Now she was going to be staying under my roof for a week
It was going to be so embarrassing.
Well I thought encouragingly at least I’ve still got time to have a bash at bashing in Frankie’s back door before Molly arrives but when I turned around I just got sight of her big round arse disappearing through the side gate.
“Oh shit”
Clearly I was going to have to take myself in hand.

Well Saturday came and Uncle Ken and Aunty Liz arrived to drop Molly off, it was a family reunion totally lacking even an ounce of warmth, I offered them both a drink but they declined,
And I have to say I was not disappointed when they did.
So they kissed their daughter goodbye before perfunctorily thanking me for helping out and all at once they were gone leaving me and Molly quite alone apart that is for the elephant in the room.
As I suspected there was a distinct awkwardness and I got the distinct impression she wasn’t any happier being my house guest any more than I was to be her host.
She was still as pretty as she was when I last saw her but she had lost the puppy fat if that’s the PC way of saying it.
She was taller now about 5ft 6 with shoulder length blond hair, a nice arse, great legs and very decent tits
I could give quite a clinical appraisal of her assets because she did nothing for me sexually at all any more than she did when she was a teenager, even the fact that she was a nurse didn’t add to her allure and you know how much I like a uniform.
But I don’t want to sound shallow because it wasn’t because she was a bit of a chubster when we were kids she was well cute it was never about her physical form its just that we were very close and Molly was more like a sister and how could I shag my own sister.
I can tell you now that when I was 17 I had a permanent hard on and if it had been any other chubby 14 year old naked under my duvet I would have shagged her in a heartbeat.
I hope that proves that I’m not shallow.
“Its very kind of you to do this” she said “Thank you”
“No problem” I lied
Then came the first of the embarrassed silences as we stood together in the kitchen without the first idea what to talk about.
“Look I’ll give you a quick tour show you where everything is, settle you in your room and then I’m afraid I need to get some work done, I have a deadline fast approaching” I lied again.
“Sure I have some studying I need to do before Monday” she said unconvincingly.
Then another embarrassed silence.
“Spare key” I said pointing to the table “just come and go as you please”
“Thanks Simon” she said
“You have the run of the house except my” I almost said bedroom “study, that’s a definite no go”
She nodded
So I gave her the tour and carried her bag to her room.
“And this is your room, bathroom is next door, and I’m sorry but I really have to get on now” and I quickly turned and walked away.
“Thanks Again” she called after me, and I’m sure I heard her let out a sigh.
I think she was just as relieved as I was that, that was over and I’m sure she was equally happy that we would be seeing as little as possible of each other.

We managed very well to avoid one another, the occasional meeting on the stairs, a coincidental clash in the kitchen, contact minimal, conversation likewise. Embarrassed silences kept to a bare minimum.
That was until Wednesday when we both happened to be going out the front door at the same time and although we desperately wanted to; neither of us could, either think of an excuse to go back or didn’t have the time to, so we ended up walking into the village together.
The conversation was forced and painful and was littered with our stock in trade, the embarrassed silence, and I think we both sighed when we reached our parting of the ways, me towards the doctors surgery and her towards the station in her uniform.
It was my first visit to the doctor’s surgery, as a patient that is.
I registered with them when I first arrived in the village back in January but this was my first appointment.
The reason for this visit was quite routine, I had surgery on my knee the year before and the hospital had contacted my GP in London to book me a follow up appointment with a view to discharging me. But because I’d changed GP and now came under an entirely different hospital trust my new GP had been asked to ascertain my status as she was a part time orthopedic consultant for my new trust.
I expected the doctor to be some geriatric old fart who still set broken jaws in pre war American football helmets.
However on arriving at the surgery I was informed that my appointment was with Dr Andrews, with no indication of age or gender and my vision switched between male geriatric old fart and female 1970s Russian hammer thrower.
Oh yes I was still frustratedly horny.
At that moment I would have taken the hammer thrower.
I sat down and grabbed the top magazine off the stack and turned the page, full page advert for healthy breakfast cereal featuring a girl in her underwear.
Next page and advert for toothpaste with a girl in skimpy nightie, the next page was a double page spread for mascara with several ear naked girls in matching underwear.
I through the magazine back down where I got it and sat back and tried not to thing about crumpet.
My name was called after about half an hour and I walked down the corridor and through the open door and was greeted not by a geriatric old fart, nor a Russian hammer thrower but a very attractive female Dr, who was emitting a very exotic perfume every time she moved.
I made a quick appraisal; I was getting quite good at those now, pretty face, blue eyes, soft shoulder length brown hair,. 5t 3 or 4, early thirties, nice figure, everything where it should be, equally proportioned.
Oh oh a trouser tickle.
“Good morning Mr. Fisher” she said as she perused my notes “take a seat”
“Morning Doctor” I replied as I sat
Then almost as soon as my arse hit the seat she said.
“Sorry, let’s have you up on the table”
I got up and proceeded to climb onto the table when she said
“Ok let’s have the trousers off first”
So I got off dropped my trousers and got back on again feeling more than a little pissed, Sit down, get up, up down up again, it had even curtailed my horniness.
As soon as I settled on the table she said “well I can see straight away you have full mobility in the joint and you’re not favouring your other leg which is good”
Which is when I realized that the sit down, get up, up down and up again was just to test my knee without giving me a chance to think about what I was doing.
Then she began a more detailed exam of the knee which is when I started to notice a little bit of pale pink bra strap, a glimpse of lace edging inside her sweater, the silhouette of a nipple, pushing through the wool, the neat hips and the beautifully round buttocks, and oh yes the horniness was back.
I was conscious that I might start a bulge in my pants and was aware that I still had to get off the table again which could be a bit tricky not to mention undignified with a boner.
So I started thinking about cricket that normally works but then it was women’s cricket and they were all naked save for their shows, gloves, hats and pads.
God knows what the reading would have been if she took my blood pressure.
“Well that all looks fine” She said then added “do you have any swelling?”
“Pardon” I said rather dry mouthed
“In you knee, do you ever have any swelling”
“No, no never” I said
“Any pain or discomfort otherwise?” asked the doctor
“It aches sometimes in the damp weather”
“Sadly that happens to us all and has nothing to do with the surgery” and smiled
“Ok get your trousers on” and added “I’m very happy with it so I have no reservations about giving the trust the green light to discharge you”
“That’s great thanks doctor” I said as I got up to leave.
“Obviously if you do develop any problems with it just come back and see me” she added finally
“Thanks again Doctor” I gave her a smile and left.

On the way back home I decided to call in at the corner shop and see the lovely Shulah.
The shop was owned and run by Omid although it was his young wife Shulah and her Aunt Anjuli who did all the work.
He was a surly old goat and old enough to be her father in fact he was old enough to be my father.
Shulah and her Aunt though were both lovely Shushu was a few years younger than me, tall and slim but her thick back combed hair made her look even taller.
She was a Skinny girl but not in a boney way she just had a skinny frame I was sure she would be extremely flexible.
Her eyes were big and almost black and she had a huge toothy smile which lit up the whole shop if not the street.
The rest of her figure was concealed beneath her loose fitting robe affair, but I would bet money she had pert little breasts under there.
I always flirt dreadfully with her and her aunt and they would always flirt back.
And when it came time to pay there was always a lingering exchange where our hands would almost touch but not quite occasionally I would caress her hand with my thumb or brush my fingertips against hers and she would blush, and if she was in the shop I would brush passed her very close and she would get very flustered.
Alas today they were at the cash and carry only the surly old goat was in the shop and he was sat on his arse watching cricket.

Later that evening I had a shower and shave and was preparing to spend the evening at the club to catch up with the latest gossip and find someone suitable to scratch my itch, when I remembered I had left my after shave in the main bathroom, I had been using the en suite since Molly arrived for obvious reasons.
So I walked across the landing wearing a towel and without hesitating entered the main bathroom, walked to the sink, found my aftershave amongst all the feminine potions and powders that had appeared on the shelf and was just turning to leave as Molly stepped naked from the shower, with water dripping from her rosebud nipples and running down her beautiful firm young body to her shaven haven.
I know I stood staring at her for longer than I should but I struggled to draw my eyes away.
Then I said,
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think”
At which point she grabbed the towel and covered herself.
And I headed hurriedly out the door repeating
“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry” Until I reached the sanctuary of my room.
I took my towel off and glanced down
“Oh Fantastic, you’re just what I need” I said to my erection
I don’t know what you think you’re doing she’s still like your bloody sister”
And there I stood for God knows how long with my hands on my head muttering to my erect penis.
“I suppose I’m going to have to deal with you in a minute” I said to him
Then the door opened and Molly came in wearing a dressing gown and stared at my erect cock.
“I’m.…” I started to say but she put a finger up to her lips gesturing me to silence.
Then she undid the belt of her robe and it fell open briefly before she dropped the toweling dressing gown to the floor revealing her nakedness, all dry, perfumed and powdered.
She walked towards me and kissed me I put a hand on her face and stroked her cheek she put her on my shaft and began gently tugging on my cock.
Then for some unknown reason I placed my other hand on her neck while her spare hand started rubbing her clit.
Then after what seems like an eternity she pushed me back violently so I was sitting on the bed, she stood in front of me and sucked the grease off her finger before she climbed on my lap and in one fluid motion slid her cunny down my shaft.
I let out a gasp and she released a long soft moaning sigh.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I was 12” Molly said and laughed before kissing me urgently on the mouth.
As she did so she rose and fell on me sliding her tight hot pussy up and down my shaft moaning softly with each penetration her lips sliding from my tip to my root greasing my balls.
Suddenly she stopped kissing me and pushed me backwards saying “get on your back”
Then she gave me two slow liquid strokes before she crawled along my body until her creamy cunny was in reach of my tongue its open petals inviting me to taste their tang and I eagerly obliged starting at the heart shaped mole on her lip before sucking on her.
It wasn’t long before she was writhing with pleasure as I devoured her flesh then she shuddered and moaned in orgasm.
All of a sudden she was off me again crawling up the bed throwing herself down when she reached the pillows ending up on her back with her legs spread wide displaying her swollen lips, while her gash oozed her tangy juices.
“Now you can fuck me” Molly said giggling.
I rapidly crawled up the bed and then slowly crawled up her kissing her belly, her plump tits and then sucking her teat before I reached her mouth and when our tongues engaged
My throbbing cock homed in on her crack like a guided missile or should that be guided muscle.
Either way, I was in her pussy deeply and her thighs gripped me tight while I pounded on her the pace increasing steadily faster and faster we moaned and grunted in unison as we sped on and on until we reached maximum velocity and we both exploded in utter ecstasy.
I rolled off her and there we lay exhausted and spent for an indeterminate period.
Then I looked at her and said
“Was that worth waiting 12 years for”?
“Oh God yes” she replied still panting.
“Even if you had fancied me it wouldn’t have been like that when we were kids”
“I never said I didn’t fancy you” I corrected her
“Then why did you react the way you did when I was in your bed”?
“Naked in my bed” I corrected her again
“Ok naked” she snapped
“But why”?
So I told her the whole story all about the feelings I had for her and why I acted as I did.
Then after digesting all I had told her she said
“So let me get this right it wasn’t that you didn’t fancy me when you rejected my advances, it was because you thought of me as a sister”?
“Yes” I replied
There was a prolonged silence then she spoke
“You weirdo you just fucked your sister”
“Yes” I agreed
“Urgh weirdo, your just a pervert” she said laughing
“Well by that token you just fucked your brother, nympho”
“No not at all, I just had sex with my cousin who I’ve fancied since I was 12” Molly corrected me in a rather superior tone
“Fair comment”
“But urgh you did incest, you’re a freaky pervy paedo”
I just looked down my nose at her and said
“Do you want to do it again or not”?
“Oh God yes” She said

Suffice is to say I didn’t make it to the club that memorable Wednesday night as my itch was well and truly scratched by Molly and we spent the rest of the week humping and grunting.
But it was on Friday night that I had Molly laying bent across my lap her black tights down around her knees. Navy blue knicker half way down her thighs and the blue nurse’s uniform rucked up about her hips.
All of which left exposed her firm round buttocks still wearing the fresh red hands prints of an excellent spanking her globes had just received.
There was also a very stimulating audible squelching from Molly’s pussy where I was frigging it with two fingers.
My double digit ministrations eliciting some wonderfully pleasurable moans from her when the phone rang and
I picked it up with my dry hand.
It was mum,
“Listen Simon, Liz and Ken can’t pick Molly up until Sunday, can you put her up for another night”
“No problem” I said my fingers still deep into Molly’s wetness
“I’m going to put it up her any minute”
“What was that dear?”
I said “Tell them not to worry about it for a minute”
“Are you sure its ok darling you really don’t mind? I thought you’d be ready to see the back of her by now”
I looked down at Molly squirming on my lap her cheeks jiggling as I fingered her and thought I’m always glad to see a view like that
“Tell them we’ll see them on Sunday” and hung up
“Is that ok with you Molly?” I said to her
I don’t think she really heard the question but she did shout out oh yes.

An Antidote To Writers Block (Part 01) The Taking Of Georgia

My name is Simon Fisher and I’m a writer of sorts and I’m sitting in front of my laptop staring at an open page in Word headed “An Untitled Novel by Simon Fisher” below it is one other word “The” followed by a space and the pulsing cursor irritatingly waiting for more, but if I give it more, it will, like some crazed addict, just keep demanding more it will never be satisfied.
If you hadn’t already guessed I have reached a hiatus in my writing career more commonly referred to as writers block.
It hadn’t always been like this, I’ve had some success in the field modest though it might be, and I wrote two novels which were successful, one stage play very well received and several screenplays perhaps less so.
This early flourish had at least provided me with a reasonable return and gave me something of a nest egg. But, why was there always a, but? But, my early success had petered away.
Luckily I didn’t go all Diva on my way up and have been able to survive on the good will of friends and acquaintances on the way down.
I milked all my contacts from Uni and the wider publishing world and picked up as many gigs as I could, a column here an essay there.
My literary agent was worse than bloody useless so we parted company I had a prolonged spell as an Agony Aunt which was most enlightening and I even had a three month stint as an Astrologer writing Horoscopes for a provincial publication while the regular numpty, Roxanne, went travelling to the East to find herself.
That gig ended when she returned after finding herself in Great Yarmouth.
I did everything to try and break the block, I even moved to London in an effort to immerse myself in its vibrant and colourful landscape with the hope that it might stimulate my writers bent.
But I just ended up getting pissed a lot.
So I had reached the fulcrum, I was 29 years old staring into the abyss of my thirties and the money I had accrued from my successful phase as an Author was now running dry.
I had a stark choice to make, firstly I could move to the states and join the swelling number of University graduates already there and try to compete with the fertile minds of those unconstrained by my affliction.
Second I could give up writing and get a proper job, a teacher maybe or God forbid an editor.
Or thirdly my personal favourite, pray hard so I could just shake the writers block.
As luck would have it fate took a hand and I didn’t have a decision to make.
My Uncle John died on New Years Day and left me his Cottage and a small cash sum more than enough to keep me going for a few more years.
I think he left it to me because he felt we were kindred spirits I really liked him, it was his tales of alcohol-induced debauchery that helped me when I was writing my novels.
His death was sudden though not unsurprising given his life style
So that’s how I found myself living in the quaint English village of Bushy Down in a lovely Victorian Cottage.
It’s a very tranquil place though not without its distractions, which you shall hear more of later.
From my study I can look out through the open French windows and across the expanse of lawn to a stand of ancient woodland that separates my garden from the golf course, there is no fence to separate garden and wood the two just merge.
The golf course is kind of the hub of the village, everyone goes there at some point and not just to play golf either there are two excellent restaurants, function rooms, a great bar all open to non members though you had to be a member to play or be the guest of a member.
Furthermore the club is crucial to the story because without it none of the following would have happened.

It was a glorious day at the beginning of May, unseasonably warm and the type of day that England was made for.
There was a big do on at the club to celebrate Pandora Parkinson-Browns 40th birthday, Pandy was the club Captains wife and she was a very popular character and a truly likeable person, as a result of which most of the village were there and subsequently a good deal of alcohol was consumed.
I arrived late at the party by a couple of hours as I’d been away for a few days and as a result I was obviously a good few drinks behind everyone else.
So I made my way to the bar and I was pleased to see the gorgeous Georgia was serving,
Ever since I first met her I’d had a soft spot for Georgie, or at least I fantasized about exploring her soft spot.
She was only just twenty and I later found out she was home for the weekend from Roehampton University where she was studying English and creative writing.
Since my arrival in the village back in January and it being known I was a writer it was perhaps not unsurprising that we would gravitate toward each other.
We had talked many times about her various writing assignments, which were her opportunity to pick my brains on writing issues and my chance to ogle her glorious bod at close quarters.
She was five foot eight with short bobbed brown hair, I’ve always liked a brunette, mesmerizing green eyes and a lovely figure suitably proportioned and all underpinned, excuse the pun, by stunning legs, sorry but I’m unashamedly a leg man.
As she was working the bar that day she was dressed in her uniform of short black skirt and crisp white blouse, always a nice combo, sorry I rather like uniforms as well.
“Hello stranger” She said smiling broadly
“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming”
“Hi George” I replied, “I’ve only just got back from town”
She raised an enquiring eyebrow
“I had to see the solicitor again; they still haven’t completely wrapped up Uncle John’s estate”
She nodded understandingly
“Do you want the usual?”
“Yes please” I replied looking around at my fellow guests “Make it a large one it looks like I have some catching up to do, oh and have one yourself”
“I’ll have one later when I can enjoy it, if that’s ok?” she said as she set a large Gin and Tonic on the counter in front of me.
“No problem”
Just then a large group of punters arrived at the bar demanding her attention.
“I’ll see you later” I said and went in search of the birthday girl.
I was still trying to get to know people at the club but there were still more who were strangers than not.
Pandy however was not one of them she always made a point to make everyone’s acquaintance.
I soon found her, slightly the worse for wear sitting on the terrace surrounded by admirers, not that she realized they were admirers.
“Happy Birthday Pandy” I called
“Simon darling” she said as she shot to her feet and launched herself at me for a rather untidy embrace.
“I’m a bit squiffy” she slurred

By early evening a combination of too much Gin and the heat of the sun had left me a little spinny headed so I decided to call it a day and headed back across the 18th fairway and the woods beyond to the sanctuary of the cottage.
I had just stepped onto the fairway when I was hailed by Emily and Jenny, I turned to see them tottering towards me across the grass shoes in hand ever so slightly tipsy.
The girls were best friends, quite inseparable and very gorgeous but alas they were only 15 even though the kept reminding me they were actually 15 and three quarters, sadly that three quarters was not going to keep me out of jail if I did what I had thought of doing.
But they were both lovely girls and I liked them a lot and not just sexually.
Jenny was the younger of the two by a few weeks, five foot two red hair and pale complexion and cutely freckled while Emily was an inch shorter with Jet-black hair and dark dusky skin.
They were both stunningly beautiful and wearing low cut party dresses they looked even more so.
They tottered up along side me each taking an arm Emily as always was flirting outrageously.
“Can we come back to yours Simon?” Emily said
“The olds won’t let us have another drink”
“Its not like we’re drunk or anything” Jenny chipped in
“Can we?” Emily said again
“Please Simon?” Jenny added
“Ok” I said, “as long as you behave”
“What will you do if we don’t?” asked Emily
“Will you spank us?” Jenny said and giggled
“You’ll get me arrested,” I said
Being over six foot tall and being arm in arm with two girls gave me a height advantage of more than a foot, affording me a wonderful view down the front of their low cut dresses, I know I should be ashamed of ogling school girls breasts but I’m not.
Emily saw me looking at her plump brown tits and giggled so I looked again.
Then I compared them to Jenny’s pair when Emily whispered to her friend what I was doing she blushed scarlet but made no attempt to prevent me looking again.

When we reached the cottage I left the giggling flirts outside while I went inside to change and came out 10 minutes later just wearing an old pair of baggy shorts and I joined the girls as they sat on the patio which was now in the shade and I gave the girls a glass of wine each.
Which on reflection was not the wisest thing to do, Emily kept leaning over me so I could have an unrestricted view of her tits, which was giving me a hard on like a milk bottle. In between glimpses of Emily’s pert jewels they danced around my garden flirting and flaunting and flashing their skimpy knickers whether knowingly or otherwise was immaterial as it was not diminishing the intensity of my erection.
Finally out of breath they tottered over to me breathless to drink their wine and sat their pert arses on my lap while they drank which made my cock throb and my balls ache.
Emily must have been able to feel my dick under her buttock but if she did she didn’t make it known.
Maybe she would reflect on it beneath her duvet that night.
Anyway I decided that it had to stop so I pushed them up onto their feet and simultaneously gave their buttock a little pat but I gave each plump little peach a lingering squeeze and seriously considered shagging the pair of them then and there.
After all they were only a little bit too young but I nobly thought better of it, as I figured perhaps less nobly that in a few months they would be fair game.
“Time to go, before I do something I’ll regret”
“But we’re having fun” Jenny protested
“We don’t mind a bit of sexy fun” Emily said and blushed
Then both girls giggled
“When you’re old enough maybe,” I said reflecting on the time when it would be legal if not immoral to shag their collective brains out then I smacked each of them satisfyingly hard on their firm derrieres causing them to release delightful stereophonic squeals.
Then I sent them on their way. I struggled out of the chair so I could walk them to the woods but the enormity of my erection and my aching balls made getting up and then walking somewhat uncomfortable, fortunately I was wearing the baggy shorts.
The girls were someway in front of me by the time I got to the woods still giggling they turned and waved and Emily blew a kiss.
“You don’t know just how close I came to splitting your whiskers today girls,” I muttered under my breath
“Straight home and take care” I said aloud.

I made my way gingerly back to the cottage and went inside for a piss, which was hellish difficult with a hard on.
I had to lean forward like a ski jumper and I still managed to hit the cistern so I pissed in the shower instead.
By the time I got back to the patio my cock had reduced down to a semi but I still had the lovers balls.
I sat down and poured myself some wine and saw gorgeous Georgia emerge from the woods, I assumed she must have finished work for the day as she had changed out of her uniform and was wearing a lovely yellow summer dress and being the man I am I immediately wondered if her knickers matched which caused me a slight trouser tickle.
“If you’ve finished work come and have that drink”
“Ok I was hoping you’d say that”
She joined me on the patio and I poured her a drink,
“I saw the pretty girls leave” She said, a little bitterly “Everyone really loves the pretty girls”
“Yes” I said thoughtfully “I rather like a pretty girl myself”
She gave me a look and I continued “which is why I asked you in for a drink”
“I’m not pretty,” she snorted
“No, you’re beautiful” I corrected her
She turned her head away coyly.
I put the drinks down on the table put my hand on her chin and turned her face towards me.
“You’re beautiful Georgia”
I was so close to her that her intoxicating perfume enveloped me I moved my hand from her chin and caressed her cheek while I stared into her beautifully hypnotic green eyes, and then I lent in and kissed her.
She immediately responded pressing her mouth hard against mine and darting her tongue in my mouth.
Her arms immediately wrapped around me holding me so tight.
My left hand was on her hip pulling her pelvis towards my now throbbing cock; my right was now on her neck moving quickly to her shoulder.
My other hand moved from her hip up her back and slowly unzipped her dress, the hand on her shoulder pushing the strap of her dress down her arm to the elbow at which point Georgia slipped her arm out, and as the cotton fell away my hand was able to cup her exposed breast.
She sighed and snorted air in deeply through her nose as I toyed with her stiffening nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
I disengaged my mouth from hers and she immediately tried to reattach but I broke away again as I had other plans for my mouth.
Still fondling her breast I started to kiss and nibble down her neck while my other hand slipped her remaining shoulder strap off to expose her other pert little globe.
Which I quickly took hold of with my spare hand.
Briefly I returned my mouth to hers as I fondled both titties playing with her swollen peaks with my thumbs then my mouth went on a journey down her neck, shoulders and chest until I found myself kneeling in from of her and her beautiful firm round tits which I took turns on kissing, licking and sucking. Georgia was trembling, her left hand was on my shoulder, gripping hard and her right was fingering my hair as I sucked her teat.
My hands were now on her knees about to travel north, and as they slid slowly yet purposely upward as if to distract her from my intension I sucked hard on her nipple making her wince, she withdrew and I thought I had hurt her too much but instead she thrust her other teat between my lips for similar treatment and I duly obliged.
My hands meanwhile were nearing their objective and I felt the fabric of her panties beneath my finger tips.
My hands spread out across her firm buttocks squeezing and kneading them until my fingers reached the waistband of her knickers and grasping the elastic firmly I tugged them off her round cheeks and down her trembling thighs releasing them at her knees where gravity took over.
My hands were quickly occupied with her naked arse and I stopped sucking her tits and instead began kissing her quivering belly.
Simultaneously I started edging her backward against the table.
Georgie adjusted her feet, at the same time kicking off her shoes and freeing one foot from her pants,
I was now pushing up the fabric of her dress and kissing her thighs I glanced down briefly to see her knickers loosely hanging around her ankle, which I found for some reason extremely erotic, and I thought to myself “they were yellow then”
As I kissed up her thigh I could smell her odour, which spurred me on, and very soon I was rubbing my face in her ample public curls.
I maneuvered her back further until she could slide her buttocks onto the table to support her weight while I knelt before her I looked up and saw Georgia was biting her lip and then she opened up wide for me to drink deeply of her heady mix of sweat mingled with her juices and pleasured her with my nose, my mouth, my tongue until I could wait no more and I got to my feet and kissed her, her pungent fragrance was all around my mouth and when I stopped kissing her it was all around hers as well and as my hand slipped up her thigh she licked her lips.
I fingered her hot pussy with two fingers of one hand making her moan while I released my cock from its confines with the other.
Then I penetrated her and I felt her hymen break.
I stopped.
"I didn’t know you were a virgin"
I said, still inside her
I’d always assumed she was sexually active she was after all an attractive confident young woman with no shortage of admirers as far as I was aware and she’d been away at University for two years.
"I’m sorry" was her reply
“What for?” I said, my throbbing cock eager to continue
"For not being experienced, for not being any good" she said pulling her dress up to cover her tits
“I’m glad I’m the first” I replied “And I’m going to be second and third”
I pulled her dress back down exposing her gorgeous tits and kissed her
“We will have to discuss your serious self esteem issues in the afterglow”
I said as I gave her a full length, then another then another.
When Georgia came the first time I thought the table was going to collapse so I withdrew from her soaking wet cunny and droplets of her juice dripped off my glistening knob onto the patio
“Please, don’t stop” she entreated
“Don’t worry darling we’ll finish this inside on firmer ground, I don’t think this table will take any more of your passion”
I discarded my shorts and pants and stood before her wearing nothing but her cum.
She stood up and grasped the front of her dress to cover her modesty.
“Let go” I said “You’re beautiful remember”
She opened her hand and her dress fell to the floor, she stepped out of it but still had her yellow panties wrapped round her ankle, she made as if to shake it free but I said
“No leave them, its really sexy”
I held out my hand and she took it in hers and I led her inside and finished the job and when I finally lost my load into her tight young cunny it was like a dam bursting from my pulsating twitching member.

After a prolonged nap I awoke to find Georgia playing with my shaft and kissing and nibbling my ear so I fucked her tight little cunt again before I walked her home.
I had a feeling I would be visiting her delights on a regular basis.

I woke in the early hours with my head buzzing with words and phrases so I got up and went to my study where I opened my laptop, it was still on the same page headed “An Untitled Novel by Simon Fisher” and below it was one other word “The” followed by a space and the cursor pulsing, impatiently awaiting input, almost like it was tapping its foot as it stood ever ready to receive further instructions so I sat down and miraculously I began to type the words and they flowed out of me like a river, no a torrent.
Four hours later I stopped typing but only then because I was hungry and I found I had typed five chapters.
I was euphoric so I ate a hearty breakfast but decided on a hot shower before continuing.
While I was showering I began to think about my sexploits with Georgia the night before and I got a rather spectacular erection.

I returned to my computer having dealt rather satisfyingly with the unexpected erection and the river of words flowed again and I continued to write for the rest of the day and then I only stopped when I caught sight of Georgia coming across the lawn and I got a trouser tickle.

So thanks to two hot schoolgirls and a nubile student my writer’s block was gone, and it would appear I have a penchant for writing erotic novels, bodice rippers and slutty romances.
That knowledge gained from my time as an agony aunt will no doubt become invaluable.
However I decided not to publish under the name of Simon Fisher but rather decided to use a pen name and the one I settled on was Juliana Molesworth, not chosen because the use of a classy name might lend the book some literary weight but because it was the name of the girl who gave me my first blow job.