Friday, 13 July 2012

An Antidote To Writers Block (Part 08) The Mystery Assailant

It was after our second exhausting night of passion, when Claire Andrews and I along with her Lazarus pills were exiting the front door of the Grand Metropolitan hotel in Bristol.
We had just performed the walk of shame through the lobby causing all heads to turn in our direction.
Among our audience was an array of faces baring expressions, ranging from disgust, trough jealously to envy and then admiration.
We emerged through the door into the sunlight looking red faced and sheepish.
Having had a lobby full of eyes on us as we left the hotel we felt relived to escape into the fresh air where we turned to each other and burst out laughing
“Well Mr. Fisher thanks to you that’s another Hotel I can never stay at again” Claire said.
“Oh it’s my fault now is it?” I said indignantly
“I’m not the one who screams like a Banshee when she orgasms.”
Claire blushed to her roots and buried her face in my neck.
“Do you know just how many Hotels of that quality there are in which we can disgrace ourselves?” I asked
“How many?” Came her muffled response?
“Hundreds” I said “And that’s just in the British Isles”
“Oh goody” Claire said immerging from my neck smiling.

We boarded the train at Temple Meads and made ourselves comfortable.
We had barely left the station before Claire was asleep with her head on my shoulder.
We had met up for the second time in a couple of months
Her, me and the Lazarus pills that raise me from the dead and keep me going all night.
Claire was one of my guiltier pleasures because she was married; normally a big no-no for me, but there was always an exception or two.
Her husband was seriously disabled and incapable in everyway of pleasuring her; she remained faithful to him for nine years before I got my hands on her.
Our first get together was unplanned and unexpected but our second was anything but.
Claire was a Doctor and had a conference to attend in Bristol, so I wangled an invitation to a literary club luncheon and the rest was simple.
Well exciting, exhilarating, mind blowing and exhausting to be more precise.
We had made our own way down there but we were getting the train back together she would get off at Basingstoke and pick up her car while I would continue on to Guildford where I would change trains for Farnham and then a second change to Bushy Down.
While she was sleeping against my shoulder I indulged in a spot of people watching.
The carriage was very quiet and sparsely populated and most of the passengers were at the other end.
But there were two girls sat diagonally across the isle from us, a tall willowy blonde with outstandingly stellar legs.
She was very pretty but was very aware of the fact and she positively preened when she realized I was admiring her legs.
She crossed her legs slowly and deliberately so I could marvel at them further but then I noticed on the newly exposed inner thigh a tattoo of an arrow and beneath it were the words “this way up”.
It was like an ice cold shower to my desire.
How very classy I thought and it turned me off, I turned my attention to a quiet mousy girl sitting in the corner.
She had long straight brown hair and a rather plain, heavily freckled face, but lovely blue eyes, a cute nose and a thin-lipped smile.
She was short, body shape undetermined due to a rather shapeless baggy sweater, so it was difficult to tell which way she was facing let alone see her figure
Her legs were nice though ensconced in black shabby tights and she had tiny feet always a bonus for me.
I had trouble fixing her age though she could have been anywhere between 18 and 25.
She ticked quite a few boxes and even if the contents of her sweater turned out to be a disappointment it would be fun to rummage.
The leggy blonde on seeing my transfer of allegiance huffed quite loudly and flounced off to another part of the carriage.
I continued to appraise the mouse who seemed quite pleased with herself that she had lured me away from “legs” and that the blonde had thrown in the towel, in fact she took on an air of aloofness on recognizing her success in stealing my attentions, if she knew the reason she would be less flattered.
So myself and the mouse spent the next twenty minutes exchanging glances, mine of lechery, hers of coquettishness, in fact they continued until we were approaching Basingstoke, so I turned my thoughts back to Claire, I woke her and helped her gather her things together.
As we approached the station I got up and carried her bag to the door, she followed close behind, the train stopped; she gave me a long succulent kiss. The doors opened and our embrace followed suit.
I stepped out and put her case on the platform.
“Thank you sir” she said formerly “That’s very kind”
“My pleasure madam” I replied and got back on the train.
Our little charade over I returned to my seat and much to my disappointment the Mouse was gone, she must have got off the same time as Claire.
I settled in the corner by the window and exchanged a final smile with Claire as we slowly pulled out of the station.
I thought to myself that that wasn’t the first time this weekend that I had smiled at her as I pulled out.
The motion of the train soon began to lull me off, it was only the sound of bare feet padding on the floor that brought me back and through half opened eyes I saw the Mouse had returned minus tights and shoes and seated herself in the corner diagonally opposite me across the aisle. I was starting to close my eyes again thinking I had already surveyed her meager attributes when she did something that brought me wide awake.
Her right leg was on the seat, bent at the knee, and was resting against the seat back she drew it up towards herself while her left leg was stretched across the gap between the seats.
The mouse sat there head back eyes closed a hand on each knee and then slowly slid her hands down the inside of her thighs and under her skirt.
The fabric of her skirt slowly moved upward exposing first her bum cheeks and then her slit.
Her knickers clearly came off when her tights did.
The material kept on its upward trend and the full majesty of her hairy Minge was visible.
Then her tiny hand and nimble finger returned downward either side of her closed lips when the lips peeled open like a piece of ripe fruit revealing the soft moist flesh inside.
Mouse slipped her small digits between her open lips and began working diligently on herself while my pants bulged with appreciation for her craft.
She was good, very good; it’s always the quiet mousy girls you have to watch.
As I watched her deft fiddling fingers frigging at her fanny I suddenly became aware that however exciting this was and it would undoubtedly make it to the wank bank I thought to myself she is not going to finish herself off before the next station, that is to say that she isn’t going to arrive before the train does.
So I moved across the aisle and perched on the edge of her seat, my left hand on the inside of her right thigh while two finger of my left hand invaded her cunny her fingers continued their work while I engaged in frigging her.
Mouse’s spare hand grasped mine as it worked on her as she grew closer and closer and closer until she came and pulled my fingers hard into her cunny.
Then as her thighs came together I did something I hadn’t done for many years, I creamed my jeans.
Mouse smiled coyly at me as she released her grip on my hand.
“That was very nice ….” I began
“Doreen” she said “Doreen Clarke”
“That was very nice Doreen,” I continued
The tannoy announced the train was approaching Guildford station.
“I’m Simon” I said and kissed her on the lips before standing up and returning to my seat.
We then both got off the train together and as we stood on the platform for a moment I said
“I do hope we can share a journey together again sometime” to conclude our business I thought
“Me too” Doreen said blushed and padded off barefoot to the ladies to redress herself leaving me standing alone on the platform with sticky pants.

I arrived home about an hour later and after a long awaited cup of coffee I headed off to the bathroom for a much needed shower.
The shower was wonderful and I felt refreshed and invigorated so I threw on my toweling robe and went back to the kitchen for another coffee,
Steaming coffee in hand I walked through to the lounge, the room was dominated by a large L shaped leather sofa with a large square matching foot stool which was sitting in its default position i.e. in the right angle.
The room was quite stuffy so I put my coffee down and walked across and threw open the French doors but I left the curtains drawn as the sun was full on, on that side of the house at that time of day.
I sat on the sofa and almost immediately the long blinks began to set in and within minutes I was lying stretched out on the cool expanse of leather and a few minutes later I was fast asleep.

I had no idea how long I had slept but when I began to stir I was instantly aware that my little friend was stirring also.
I lay there for an indeterminate time drifting in and out sleep with my mind full of little erotic dreams.
I dreamt I could feel fingers stroking my shaft and tugging and teasing it to full erection.
It felt so real and my cock was so hard, then I dreamt that I felt, no not dreamt, I felt the tell tale feathering of a tongue flicking round my knob.
I lifted my head off the sofa and I could see a figure in the gloom but I couldn’t tell who it was whose lips and wet mouth had enveloped my helmet, I glanced down again but I still couldn’t tell whose head was pleasuring my cock.
But to be perfectly honest at that precise moment I didn’t really care whose mouth was around my prick and sucking me off.
Then my blissful assailant in order to take me into her throat half climbed onto the sofa presenting me with her round arse well in striking distance of my hand.
I reached out my paw and groped up the skirt of my assailant caressing her round buttocks though its firmness and fullness offered no clue to its owner’s identity.
So while she slurped on my member I slipped my fingers into the waistband of her knickers and yanked them down to her knees to expose the swollen lips of her shaven cunt.
That narrowed the field a bit further but I still wasn’t going to hazard a guess at their identity as nothing kills the mood quite like getting her name wrong during the act.
So instead I probed her creamy wet pussy with my fingers probed and elicited moans between the slurps on my shaft.
I inserted two fingers into her cunny.
In, out
Moan, Slurp
In, out
Moan, Slurp
In, out
Moan, Slurp
Then without disengaging her mouth from my swollen member
she wriggled her legs free of her panties and clambered onto my chest to present her hot ripe cunt to my waiting mouth and at last I knew the identity of my oral assailant
The heart shaped mole on my Cousin Molly’s pussy lip revealed it.
I kissed it and then nibbled the flesh of her labia making her moan and gasp
"I love your pussy Molly" I said then I noshed on her, slurping her cunny juice like nectar.
Molly brought me to the brink of tipping my load time after time as she came once, twice then three times her fanny farting in hoarse whispers.
Then Molly can wait no longer and jumps quickly off me stripping off her remaining clothes because she knew I liked to fuck her naked.
As I lay their watching her strip, my face covered in her juice I thought “my God Molly you’re such a spunker”
I was admiring her body as she climbed on me, she has the most incredible tits, and then she was impaling her eager nonny on to my waiting shaft and began pumping on me like a piston.
Her tits jiggled uncontrollably as she thrashed about wildly moaning like a beast as she rode me like a bucking bronco
Before she screamed out in orgasm and i exploded in her pumping hot spunk into her quivering quim.
Molly’s cunny spasm’s in time with the pulsing of each ejaculation of my cock.
Then we collapsed and slept where we had come to rest after our exertions my cock still inside her cunny.

An Antidote To Writers Block (Part 07) A Brief Encounter

It was Saturday morning and July had arrived and furthermore it had delivered us a very hot day, the hottest day of the year so far.
I had been ordered to take a few days off from the writing and Georgia had arranged for us to take her two younger sisters swimming in Kiddingstone which was great fun.
We had to do it in the morning as I had to meet Camilla Petersen at the at the Oak Park Hotel at lunchtime, she had called me the previous day about my Uncles estate and said that everything was wrapped up now, we just needed to meet to sign some papers and then it would all be settled.
Camilla said rather than drag me up to London again we could meet in Kiddingstone as she was going to be in the area anyway.
I was disappointed in a way because I thought I might be able to wind up her prudish receptionist again. No matter.

Georgia and I were sat in the Woodman’s Inn beer garden discussing the weekend.
Georgia raised an eye brow when I told her about the hotel meeting.
“Well that’s just the perfect scenario for a dirty old man” she said tongue in cheek.
“Not so much of the old” I protested
“Its alright I don’t mind you shagging other women”
Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow
“I know you do so don’t bother trying to deny it” she said sternly
“I don’t need to know who they are,”
I went to speak but she stopped me
“However I have the following conditions first you never touch my sisters” she said before adding
“Or my mother”
Her sisters were far too young to be candidates for my lust but I hadn’t considered her Mother, she was still an attractive woman.
“And as long as when you’re with me I have your undivided attention”
“Can I look at other women when were together?” I asked
“Yes”
“And can I have lustful thoughts about them?”
“Only if I get the benefit of any resulting erection”
I was just digesting what she had said when I caught site of the barmaid Mandy collecting glasses and at that precise moment she bent over to pick up an empty glass and flashed her thronged twat to the whole garden.
“So if the sight of Amanda Beaumont’s knickers wakes up the beast I get to tame it”
Well that seemed clear enough.

Anyway I had to leave Georgia and the girls swimming in the pool and go and get changed.
It was a very modern facility with modern unisex changing rooms with two long rows of cubicles’ flanked by lockers.
I liked the idea that when I was in a cubicle drying my tackle there was only an inch of MDF separating me from some naked lass drying her young fanny.
I was in a cubicle getting dressed, I only had my shirt left to put on and I could suddenly hear some familiar voices nearby.
The first one was right out side my cubicle door
“Come on Shushu” the voice said it was Aunty Anjuli from the corner shop.
So the other voice had to be the lovely Shulah
“I’m nearly ready Aunty; you go on without me and I will catch you up” Said Shulah
The lovely Shulah from the corner shop was only a few yards away from me wearing a swimsuit.
“Ok I will see you in a minute” Anjuli said moving away.
I left it for a moment or two, listening intently to see if I could detect any movement and when I thought I could hear her close the locker door and pad along the tiled floor I open my door and found I had timed it to perfection as Shulah was right there wearing a black one piece swimsuit and clutching a towel.
“Hello Shushu” I said still stripped to the waist
“Oh Simon” she flustered not quite knowing what to do
“I didn’t know you came here” I said
“Yes we try to do it every month”
I was casting an appreciative eye over her swim suited figure where the expected pert little breasts were there for all to see.
She blushed when she noticed me looking at her titties but made no move to cover them up,
Trying to cover her embarrassment and failing she said
“Do you come here often?”
We both laughed.
“Who’s running the shop this morning if you and Anjuli are both here?” I asked her
“Maisie and Omid” she said
“How is Maisie doing?”
“Very well, she’s a very hard worker; I have to force her to go home”
“That’s because she doesn’t have much of a home to go to” I thought, but I was glad she was doing well.
But none of this could distract me from Shushu’s tits. Or her big black eyes from my naked torso.
“Wow it’s really nice to see out of that shapeless robe” I said
“You look so good”
This made her quite flustered so as I stared into her eyes I took her hand and pulled her gently into the cubicle, closed the door behind her and secured it.
“Auntie will wonder where I am” she said feebly
I ignored her and before she could speak again I kissed her and the moment my lips touched hers she locked onto my mouth like a limpet and her arms gripped me around the neck like a bear trap.
It was a warm liquid kiss with hot tongues of passion.
My hands caressed up and down her skinny frame repeatedly ending up on her tight little buttocks.
I sat down on the little bench so she was above me, kissing down into my mouth, her tongue like a striking serpent in and out of me, lips still locked limpet like on mine, nostril snorting in air.
My hands continued their travels up and down her rear aspect but I knew all the interesting stuff was at the front of the property so I steered her skinny frame until it was in a position where I could sit her down on my lap.
At the moment her bony little arse made contact with my lap our mouths disengaged briefly and she gave me a toothy smile and locked onto me again.
I now had one arm around her shoulder and the opposite hand on her waist which I slid slowly up to cup her breast; she drew in a sharp sighing breath through her nose as I fondled her breast through her swimsuit.
I fondled her little tit for a few minutes, which was nice but I wanted more.
My hand left her breast and went up to her shoulder and grasped the strap.
We stopped kissing and she dropped her arms to her sides and let me pull the shoulder straps down and then she wriggled her skinny arms out one at a time but held the front of the swimsuit in place with her spare hand.
Then she kissed me again briefly before wrapping her arms around me and burying her face in my neck.
Which was when the front of her swimsuit flopped down to finally reveal the two beautiful chocolate confections previously hidden.
They sat there and quivered before my libidinous eyes like little brown muffins topped by large chocolate brown nipples.
As my hand cupped her naked breast and played with her hardening nipples her arms gripped tighter and though her face was still buried deep in my neck I could still hear her murmur.
When I began tiring of her titties I moved my playful hand down across her belly and inside her costume, her body stiffened as my hand progressed but she didn’t resist or halt my progress.
My fingers then disappeared inside the folds of her costume until they reached the coarse hair of her Minge where they dallied before finding her prominent mound and then into the abyss of her cunny, hot and creamy she let out a little “Hmmm” of pleasure at my touch and she grabbed her towels and buried her face in it to stifle any further exclamation, of which there were many as I stroked her gorgeous wet pussy.
I continued stroking her juicy cunny bringing her closer and closer to orgasm until she screamed out, audible even through the towel, as she came beneath my touch.
Her thigh’s closed on my hand at the point of climax trapping my hand but my finger were still between her lips and I would have liked to taken her further with my frigging and then finish her with my shaft but I was already late for my meeting and she would be missed by Aunt Anjuli but I knew even before she kissed me a soft and gentle kiss this was only the beginning for us.
I watched as she redressed her lovely titties and then we had an affectionate farewell kiss and I opened the door and she went in search of Anjuli.

I was a few minutes late when I walked up to the Oak Park Hotel I hadn’t been in their before but it clearly wasn’t in the £19 a night category.
I walked into reception and at once spotted Camilla sitting in one of the luxurious arm chairs a very pretty young woman a year or two my senior.
I thought to myself she is definitely on the “yes I would” list and would have been even if I hadn’t just been fondling Shulah half an hour earlier.
She stood up when she saw me and offered her hand to me in greeting with a broad smile and a hearty hello and I accepted them gladly.
Her hand was soft and smooth like silk and she gripped mine firmly and in my large paw her little hand was almost like that of a child.
I apologized for my tardiness but she brushed it off.
Pleasantries were exchanged and then she turned away and bade me follow.
I followed her exotic heady fragrance out through the door and down a long the corridor I followed mesmerized by her form and admiring of its perfection.
I had admired her rather delightful arse once before when we met at her offices but today if anything it was even better.
As she strode down the corridor her straight brown hair cascaded onto her shoulders and danced softly there in time with her movement.
She was immaculately dressed in a fitted white silk blouse tucked into the waist of grey flared skirt which complemented her slender frame perfectly her narrow waist and the flaring of her skirt accentuating her hips.
Her pert round buttocks contained within the tailored skirt were quite hypnotic and her shapely legs clad in black stockings, if I was not mistaken, and the ensemble finished off with four-inch heels.
To be honest after my grope with Shulah in the cubicle I needed little persuasion to rise to the occasion but after following Camilla down that corridor I was loaded and ready to fire.
Her wonderful plummy tones accompanied me all the way down the corridor until we finally arrived at our destination it was a small meeting room very plush all wood paneling and leather upholstery.
There was a briefcase and a pile of legal papers on the desk which was to be expected but I can tell you I was not expecting what happened next. She drew back the blind at one end of the room and the sunlight spilled through the window and illuminated her form through the white silk, the sudden transparency left nothing at all to the imagination but just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything she turned first left then right which caused the illumination of her fine unrestrained breasts for me to see perfectly.
All the while this floor show was going on she carried on chatting away in a professional solicitorial manner and then as she closed the blind clearly delighted with the effect she had achieved and walked towards me quite deliberately catching the vent on her skirt momentarily on the edge of the desk showing A glimpse of her stocking top confirming my earlier suspicions.
She was working very hard to seduce me with all of these choreographed moves and she really didn’t have to.
After the warm up with Shulah in the changing rooms I’d have fucked her in reception after hello.
Camilla finally sat down in one of the high backed leather armchairs, opened her briefcase and quickly removed a pen.
Picking up the document from the desk she quickly went through the salient points, leaned forward for me get another good look at her breasts, a couple of signatures and our business was concluded.
At our last meeting she assured me that everything would be tied up with a bow in the coming few weeks.
Well after she had put the papers back in her briefcase, her hand came back out holding lengths of white legal ribbon so it seemed that when she said everything would be tied up with a bow she wasn’t joking.
Camilla got out of her seat and walked behind the chair I was sitting in and when she reappeared she was minus her skirt and her blouse was unbuttoned.
I gave her a good look over and my final appraisal was one of disappointment.
White silk blouse no bra, faultless
The four inch heels and black stockings, very nice indeed, but they were hold ups, stocking go with suspenders,
I then I noticed as she moved around in front of me and the open silk blouse wafted open, I noticed two things which are major point droppers,
First she had a butterfly tattooed on her hip, desecration as far as I’m concerned and second she had trimmed her bush to leave a small square of hair above her mound which quite frankly looked like Adolph Hitler’s moustache.
She sat down facing me, perching on my knees, and legs astride me, unzipped my fly and tugged out my cock which she toyed with roughly.
“Touch me Simon” she said
She was one of those, I thought, a giver of instructions but I roughly frigged her pussy anyway.
I tried to kiss her
“No don’t kiss me” she said which pissed me off, I liked kissing,
“Rub me Simon” she ordered
“Rub me hard”
This went on for a while I couldn’t say how long it was all a bit tedious really.
Then she got up and took off her blouse and bent down to pick up her ribbons.
She handed them to me and said
“Restrain me Simon, tie me down and punish me”
“Oh God” I said to myself “Bloody games”
I’m not really a game player I like uniforms and sexy underwear, those kind of titillations but basically I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy I like a good bit of foreplay and then bang.
So I grabbed her arm and marched her behind one of the leather chairs
“Oh yes be rough with me Simon”
That was something that was really getting on my nerves I really didn’t like Instructions.
So quite violently I tipped her forwards over the back of the leather chair so she pivoted on it at the waist.
Then I tied her wrists too tightly to the chairs front legs.
That was when I noticed another tattoo, this time a red rose on the cheek of her arse.
Her magnificent long stockinged legs left dangling over the chair back didn’t even reach the floor.
So I yanked her shoes off and through them across the room then I tied her leg one at a time to the chairs back left resulting in restricting her movement and pulling her cunny open.
My trousers kept falling down so I got rid of them and it was so hot in that room I took everything else off as well.
I looked at her bent over the chair and she looked nicely moist and I thought about noshing her, I do like a good nosh but I kept noticing her tash and that put me right off..
So I slapped her arse instead which made a very satisfactory sound and left a lovely bright red hand print.
“Oh yes punish me”
So I slapped her again
“Oh yes spank me Simon”
Slap, slap
“Spank me harder”
Slap, slap
“Spank me faster”
SLAP
“That’s it” I said and walked round and grabbed her by the hair pulling her head up so she could see me.
“Shut up with the fucking instructions” I said and then I stuck my cock in her mouth
“Chomp on that for a bit and give my ears a rest”
It crossed my mind to just fuck her in the skull and get out of there.
Instead I withdrew from her mouth and I heard her slurp and she dribbled some saliva on the floor.
“Dirty cow” I said
“Yes I am dirty Simon” she said “punish me”
The posh plummy tones of her voice which I found so very seductive were now getting right on my tits.
So I went back in her mouth again and gave her five good deep throated lengths.
I pulled it out of her gob again and she slurped and dribbled again.
I went back behind her and pushed two fingers into her cunny and frigged her quite savagely.
“Spank me Simon” she begged
“Spank me”
God almighty would she never get the fucking message?
Then I had an idea so I got two fingers well and truly greased up with her cum and then I screwed both fingers up her anus.
She let out a sharp yell when they first went into her but then she was just panting through clenched teeth
I thought to myself with satisfaction “try barking out orders through gritted teeth Camilla darling”.
So while I frigged her arse hole with two fingers of my right hand I inserted two fingers of my left up her cunny hole and rubbed her with my thumb simultaneously.
While all that was happening I thought two things first I am really going to need to employ the nail brush tonight and the second thing was that she was having a fit or something.
She was arching her back, her long legs were jerking, her whole body was drenched in sweat and she was almost howling like a wolf through her gritted teeth.
I redoubled my efforts on her behalf and I frigged her harder and harder.
Then she did something I have never been a party to before, I’d heard about it but I’d never actually seen it
She squirted, in fact she squirted rather a lot, and it came out of her like a jet from a fountain.
Her cunny looked like the Mannequin Pis.
So I withdrew from both orifices as she continued dripping her juices onto the carpet.
Then she started again
“Oh Simon that was wonderful”
“Now do this”
“Now do that”
First of all I picked up her grey skirt and wiped my fingers very thoroughly on the front of it where it would definitely show.
Then I went to the desk grabbed her briefcase and emptied its contents all over the table.
“What are you doing?”
“You mustn’t goo in there that’s private”
“For fuck sake shut up”
Now on the table were the signed papers as previously mentioned?’
A pair of flat shoes, black
A pair of tights, black, slightly soiled
A white bra, lacy
A pair of knickers, black, heavily soiled
I picked up the tights while she was still going on about invading her privacy.
I grabbed her by the hair again
“You need to stop giving me instructions ok?”
She nodded
“Now I just made you squirt like a fountain”
“You have never done that before have you?”
She shook her head
“So why in the name of Venus would I need you to tell me what to do”?
“Sorry Simon” she said
“Right open your mouth wide”
She quickly obliged expecting me to give her my cock again but instead I poked the soiled gusset of her tights in her mouth and gagged her, tying the legs behind her head in a bow.
Then I picked up one of the flat shoes and right in front of her face smacked in hard on my palm, her eyes widened like saucers.
Then I returned to her arse end and with the shoe in my right hand I raised it and began.
“No kissing” I said
Whack
“I like kissing”
Whack
“A white bra”
Whack
“With black knickers”
Whack
“Unforgivable”
Whack
“Do you have no class?”
Whack
“A tattoo on your hip”
Whack
“A tattoo on tour arse”
Whack
“Trimming your bush”
Whack
“Either grow it”
Whack
“Or wax it”
I was sure to spread my blows to ensure the colour and pain where well distributed
“Hold ups”
Whack
“No suspenders”
Whack
I paused
“Seriously you do the stockings which look great on your fabulous legs but then you decide on taking a short cut
Talk about spoiling the ship for a ha’porth of tar”
Whack, whack
“Pubes”
Whack
“Trimmed”
Whack
“To look”
Whack
“Like Adolph Hitler’s top lip”
Whack, whack, whack
And then she came though she didn’t squirt this time but she was definitely oozing.
I can tell that at that point I was not intoxicated by her sweet perfume or enveloped in her intoxicating scent
There was a fragrance lingering but it was not something you’d want to put behind your ears.
It was now time for me, I had a bit of a ball ache and a decent erection but this wouldn’t go down as one of the greats.
So I just plugged in and fucked her hard. banging her harder and harder until the chair moved. I wasn’t worried about satisfying her I just wanted to fuck her until I shot my load.
And when I was on the very precipice of ejaculation I pulled out of her slobbering cunny and I spaffed my seed all over her purple buttocks.
I was panting quite hard and leant against the wall momentarily to catch my breath and I could see my cum dripping off her bruised cheeks and dribbling down her stockings.
I thought to myself
“You may have looked quite classy when you walked in here Camilla but you’ll look like a chavvy slag on the way out”
And I picked up her pristine white silk blouse and wiped my cock and balls on it.
Then I got dressed and picked up my copies of the signed documents from the table.
I had thought of just leaving Camilla lying sluttish-ly bent over the chair for the Hotel cleaners to find but I though better of it and undid the ribbons binding her wrists but I left her prone, to figure out how to get up.
Then I slapped her hard on the arse one more time and left.
Normally after a shag I feel ten feet tall, and there are numerous aspects of a carnal event that live in the memory wank bank,
To be recalled on those occasions when you need to relieve yourself, however this particular encounter will not be remembered fondly and even the squirting failed to make the wank bank.
I did though pop bank into the room long enough to take a snapshot on my phone of her sopping, spent form draped over the leather chair like a slutty rag doll, just as a memento of my achievement.

Later that evening as I sat in the Woodman’s Inn beer garden with Georgia my phone buzzed, I picked it up and saw that I had a voice mail, I selected listen now.
“Simon, Camilla Petersen here, just wanted to touch base with you, I thought it was a very fruitful meeting today and I feel it might be mutually beneficial if we were to meet again, soon. Call me on...”
“I don’t think so” I said and deleted it.
“Who was that”? Georgia asked
“Its just one of those “Have you been miss sold PPP? We can help” calls”

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”?
“Yes”
“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
“Yes”
“So why are you still here” I was directly in front of her now
“Well?”
“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?
“Maisie”
“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
“What?”
“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?”
“Yes”
“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?”
“No”
“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
“Why?”
“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
“What?”
“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”?
“Yes”
“Wow”
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?”
“Perfectly”
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
“What?”
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.