Mornington-By-Mere is a small country village lying in the Finchbottom Vale nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.
It is a quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.
But Mornington-By-Mere is not just a quaint chocolate box English Village it is the beating heart of the Finchbottom Vale and there were a number of cottages and small houses on the Purplemere road and Dulcets Lane which formed the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside and Tony Clooney lived at number 4 Brewery Cottages with his dad and sister.
But on Saturday morning he and Jayne Green were sitting in her mums kitchen, in one of the row of five terraced dwellings, called Brooke Side Cottages and Jayne gave a quick glance around to make sure her mum wasn’t looking and then she leant over and kissed him tenderly.
The reason why she didn’t want her mum to see was three fold, firstly she was only 16 while Tony was almost 20, secondly because they were cousins and thirdly because she had only just turned 16.
However old fashioned they might have been in their outlook her parents were very trusting that Jayne would abide by their wishes, Tony on the other hand was 19 years old and had had a crush on his cousin for a sometime, but had never acted on it.
While her mum was out of the room Jayne stood up and firstly lifted her top up and flashed him her plump lace covered little breasts at him and after her mum called to her she stopped in the doorway.
“This should give you something to think about” She said and gave another quick glance around her and then lifted the front of her skirt up exposing her matching knickers.
“Just a taster” Jayne said letting the skirt fall and Tony just sat open mouthed.
When she returned she stood in the door way as her mum called
“I’m just popping to the shops in Shallowfield, I’ll be a couple of hours, there’s some cold chicken in the fridge for lunch”
“Ok mum, see you later” Jayne responded and the moment she heard the front door close she began unbuttoning her shirt and by the time she heard the car drive away the final button surrendered and the two halves of her shirt swung open to reveal her naked breasts.
“Where’s your bra” he asked “You were wearing a bra”
“In my bedroom” she answered curtly and crossed the kitchen and kissed him hard on the mouth.
“Bloody hell” he thought but responded to her assault.
He really fancied Jayne but when he went round to hers that morning he would have considered himself lucky to get a kiss, but here she was showing him that there was more than that on her mind.
He had always known she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared but he had never imagined her capable of being so forward.
Jayne had always been in love with him and could not remember a time she did not want him.
After a few moments of intense kissing and Tony not taking the initiative Jayne, who was by far the most experienced of the two of them having lost her virginity not long after her 13th birthday, stood up
“Come with me” she said and took him by the hand
“Come on mum will be back soon” she added and led him upstairs to her bedroom where they both finally got what they wanted.
Wednesday, 14 June 2017
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (80) The Roespring Verger after Evensong
(Part 01)
Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the north and our story begins in the affluent village of Roespring.
Mark Adams had been in and out of hospital for the ten years following a bad car accident just after his 15th birthday.
But he felt reborn when he and Abigail Evans gave each other their innocence.
She was also 25 and was the verger at St Catherine’s where her Uncle, James Hall, was the vicar.
Abigail was a beautiful red head with pale skin and freckled cheeks with whom he had fallen in love and she with him.
Abigail worked for the Downshire and District Building Society in the Nettlefield branch and Mark worked across the street at the Downshire Journal and when they could they would meet up for lunch.
“Are we going to see each other tonight?” He asked just before they went their separate ways.
“I have Evensong but we can meet at the vicarage afterwards” she replied
“Deal” Mark said and kissed her goodbye and watched her go into the Building Society and then he quickly doubled back to pick up something he was going to need that night.
He got back home about 6pm and went home to change before going to the vicarage to meet Abigail.
Some days they would travel home together but when she had Evensong she always got an earlier train.
As he made the short walk from his home to the vicarage he was feeling rather proud of himself, proud of her, and proud that she was his girlfriend.
He had fancied her for so long, and the Roespring Verger ticked all of his boxes and he wanted her to be more than just his girlfriend.
And it wasn’t just because of the physical side of their relationship, which was amazing and getting better all the time, she was his soulmate and he hoped she was his.
He was thinking that hopefully he could persuade her to bathe in the light of his love forever.
He would just have to ask her and hope he wouldn’t scare her away.
So as he walked up to the front door of the vicarage he had the ring in his pocket.
But as soon as she opened the door to him he forgot it was there because of the way Abigail was dressed, she was still wearing her vestments.
This was not normal, her usual routine was to change in the vestry before going home, but she had not done that, and that distracted him from his proposal because he started having salacious thoughts.
He wasn’t sure why she hadn’t changed but his mind started to wander into lusty territory, what if Abigail was to give him an invitation to canoodle?
If she was he certainly wasn’t going to let it go unaccepted.
Even if there was a lack of attraction, which there was not, what she was wearing would have done the trick on its own, he liked uniforms and outfits, and even though they were both good Christians her vestments certainly didn’t put him off.
It was probably a combination of the fact that she was almost a woman of the cloth, he thought a verger counted, and their faith which made it extra saucy.
So the whole prospect of making love to a Verger, in costume, had made him forget about the ring in his pocket.
(Part 02)
It was probably a combination of the fact that she was almost a woman of the cloth, he thought a verger counted, and their faith which made it extra saucy.
So the whole prospect of making love to a Verger, in costume, had made him forget about the ring in his pocket.
He was sitting on the sofa watching her as she flitted around the room with her white surplice over her full length cassock, clumping about in the stout ankle boots with her Barbie pink socks showing above them.
“So where’s the vicar?” he asked innocently
“He’s gone to Mornington to dine with the St George’s at the Manor”
“Then take your Cassock off and come and have a cuddle”
“I can’t I’m not decent” she said and blushed.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean” she began “That my clothes are in the vestry”
“So you’re naked under that cassock?” he said and she turned to look at him like a rabbit caught in the headlights.
“No I am not” she said adamantly “I’m not a tart, I have underwear on”
“And you walked from the church like that?” he enquired
“Yes but it was dark and no one could see” Abigail said defensively but in her embarrassment she tried to rush past him but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto the sofa and she was blushing scarlet red and hid her face behind a cushion.
“I think it’s sexy?” he said and hugged her
“Ow” she yelped
“What’s wrong?”
“Something dug in my thigh” she replied
“Oh yes, I almost forgot” he said and reached in his pocket and brought out a ring box
“What’s that?” she asked in a whisper
“Nothing important” he replied
“Then why was it in your pocket?”
“Well it was something I thought you might like but now I’m not so sure” he replied enigmatically
“I’m sure I would like it” she offered
“Well, I don’t know” he mused and then after he thought he had tortured her enough he added
“But as I have it here you might as well see it”
So he opened the box and showed her and she gasped
“It’s beautiful”
“Do you like it?” he asked
“I really do” she replied as she stared at it
“Good” he said and snapped the box shut and put it back in his pocket
“I just wanted your opinion, it’s for Katie at work”
“But…” she began in disbelief
“I suppose if you really like it you can have it, but on one condition” he said taking from his pocket
“What condition?” she said sadly
“You have to marry me” he said
“What?”
“You have to marry me” he repeated
“You want to marry me?” she asked in disbelief
“Absolutely” he said “but if you don’t want to I can always ask Katie”
“Don’t you dare” she said and snatched the box from his hand
“Is that a yes then?” he asked as she slipped the ring on her finger
“Yes, yes, yes” she replied and punctuated each affirmative with a kiss
“Good, now can I have my cuddle?”
“Yes, sweetheart” she replied then she kissed him again and wrapped her arms around his neck and let out a rather smug self-satisfied sigh.
Downshire is a relatively small English county but like a pocket battleship it packs a lot in, a short but beautiful coastline, a channel port, the Ancient forests of Dancingdean and Pepperstock, the craggy ridges and manmade lakes of the Pepperstock Hills National Park, the rolling hills of the Downshire Downs, the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and farm land as far as the eye can see from the Trotwood’s and the Grace’s in the south to the home of the Downshire Light infantry, Nettlefield, and their affluent neighbour’s, Roespring and Tipton in the north and our story begins in the affluent village of Roespring.
Mark Adams had been in and out of hospital for the ten years following a bad car accident just after his 15th birthday.
But he felt reborn when he and Abigail Evans gave each other their innocence.
She was also 25 and was the verger at St Catherine’s where her Uncle, James Hall, was the vicar.
Abigail was a beautiful red head with pale skin and freckled cheeks with whom he had fallen in love and she with him.
Abigail worked for the Downshire and District Building Society in the Nettlefield branch and Mark worked across the street at the Downshire Journal and when they could they would meet up for lunch.
“Are we going to see each other tonight?” He asked just before they went their separate ways.
“I have Evensong but we can meet at the vicarage afterwards” she replied
“Deal” Mark said and kissed her goodbye and watched her go into the Building Society and then he quickly doubled back to pick up something he was going to need that night.
He got back home about 6pm and went home to change before going to the vicarage to meet Abigail.
Some days they would travel home together but when she had Evensong she always got an earlier train.
As he made the short walk from his home to the vicarage he was feeling rather proud of himself, proud of her, and proud that she was his girlfriend.
He had fancied her for so long, and the Roespring Verger ticked all of his boxes and he wanted her to be more than just his girlfriend.
And it wasn’t just because of the physical side of their relationship, which was amazing and getting better all the time, she was his soulmate and he hoped she was his.
He was thinking that hopefully he could persuade her to bathe in the light of his love forever.
He would just have to ask her and hope he wouldn’t scare her away.
So as he walked up to the front door of the vicarage he had the ring in his pocket.
But as soon as she opened the door to him he forgot it was there because of the way Abigail was dressed, she was still wearing her vestments.
This was not normal, her usual routine was to change in the vestry before going home, but she had not done that, and that distracted him from his proposal because he started having salacious thoughts.
He wasn’t sure why she hadn’t changed but his mind started to wander into lusty territory, what if Abigail was to give him an invitation to canoodle?
If she was he certainly wasn’t going to let it go unaccepted.
Even if there was a lack of attraction, which there was not, what she was wearing would have done the trick on its own, he liked uniforms and outfits, and even though they were both good Christians her vestments certainly didn’t put him off.
It was probably a combination of the fact that she was almost a woman of the cloth, he thought a verger counted, and their faith which made it extra saucy.
So the whole prospect of making love to a Verger, in costume, had made him forget about the ring in his pocket.
(Part 02)
It was probably a combination of the fact that she was almost a woman of the cloth, he thought a verger counted, and their faith which made it extra saucy.
So the whole prospect of making love to a Verger, in costume, had made him forget about the ring in his pocket.
He was sitting on the sofa watching her as she flitted around the room with her white surplice over her full length cassock, clumping about in the stout ankle boots with her Barbie pink socks showing above them.
“So where’s the vicar?” he asked innocently
“He’s gone to Mornington to dine with the St George’s at the Manor”
“Then take your Cassock off and come and have a cuddle”
“I can’t I’m not decent” she said and blushed.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean” she began “That my clothes are in the vestry”
“So you’re naked under that cassock?” he said and she turned to look at him like a rabbit caught in the headlights.
“No I am not” she said adamantly “I’m not a tart, I have underwear on”
“And you walked from the church like that?” he enquired
“Yes but it was dark and no one could see” Abigail said defensively but in her embarrassment she tried to rush past him but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto the sofa and she was blushing scarlet red and hid her face behind a cushion.
“I think it’s sexy?” he said and hugged her
“Ow” she yelped
“What’s wrong?”
“Something dug in my thigh” she replied
“Oh yes, I almost forgot” he said and reached in his pocket and brought out a ring box
“What’s that?” she asked in a whisper
“Nothing important” he replied
“Then why was it in your pocket?”
“Well it was something I thought you might like but now I’m not so sure” he replied enigmatically
“I’m sure I would like it” she offered
“Well, I don’t know” he mused and then after he thought he had tortured her enough he added
“But as I have it here you might as well see it”
So he opened the box and showed her and she gasped
“It’s beautiful”
“Do you like it?” he asked
“I really do” she replied as she stared at it
“Good” he said and snapped the box shut and put it back in his pocket
“I just wanted your opinion, it’s for Katie at work”
“But…” she began in disbelief
“I suppose if you really like it you can have it, but on one condition” he said taking from his pocket
“What condition?” she said sadly
“You have to marry me” he said
“What?”
“You have to marry me” he repeated
“You want to marry me?” she asked in disbelief
“Absolutely” he said “but if you don’t want to I can always ask Katie”
“Don’t you dare” she said and snatched the box from his hand
“Is that a yes then?” he asked as she slipped the ring on her finger
“Yes, yes, yes” she replied and punctuated each affirmative with a kiss
“Good, now can I have my cuddle?”
“Yes, sweetheart” she replied then she kissed him again and wrapped her arms around his neck and let out a rather smug self-satisfied sigh.
Labels:
First Love,
Love,
New Love,
Romance,
Short Story,
Soul Mates,
True Love
Those Memories Made on Teardrop Lake – (80) It Started with a Kiss
(Part 01)
Carole Bean went to the University of Downshire where she studied English at Abbottsford and it was for her, like many girls of her age, a life defining time.
She was in halls for the first year and she shared with three other girls
Amy Coates, a tall big busted girl, Alison Holmes, a skinny girl with a bad case of OCD and Claire Jarvis a quiet busty brunette.
All four of the girls were studying English in one form or another and apart from their studies they also had in common the fact they were all natives of the Finchbottom Vale.
Claire was from Purplemere, Carole from Childean, Alison from Finchbottom and Amy from Shallowfield.
The friendship that resulted from, on the face of it, 4 very different characters coming together, lasted for their lifetimes and as they got on so well the four of them decided very early on to rent a house between them for the second and third years.
However of all the girls, Carole found herself drawn most to Claire Jarvis.
The fact that the two of them had more lectures and seminars together than the other two partly aided their closeness but it was mainly because they got each other, they shared a sense of humour as well as having similar tastes in music, a love of pizza and old romantic comedies.
But what really drew them together in her first year was something that would define her world and shake her to the core.
It happened during the Easter Holiday of their first year when Carole returned to the flat to discover Claire laying naked on the sofa and Carole couldn’t take her eyes off of her and when Claire discovered that she had an audience Carole couldn’t keep her hands off her either and they made love for the first time.
Allthough neither of them could fully come to terms with the fact that they might be gay it didn’t prevent them from adding to their lesbian experiences throughout their University years and the fact that they were in love but unsure of their true sexuality they still kept a foot in both camps by dating men as well but when it came down to the love making they still prefered each other.
But after they graduated University they both ended up marrying men and had to content themselves with being friends instead of lovers.
Because two years after she graduated Carole Bean fell head over heels in love with Stewart Simpson and they married a year later.
They were very happy together and it was a good marriage they didn’t have children, but they never had plans for that, and it was unlikely to change in the immediate future so everything in the garden was lovely the only fly in the ointment was the lack of fulfilment in the bedroom.
(Part 02)
Carole’s problem was that she had a very low sex drive and was therefore quite content with only having sex on high days and holidays but for her husband Stewart the reverse was true, he would have liked to be doing it with his wife all the time.
It wasn’t that the sex was unpleasant or totally unfulfilling it was just that he wasn’t a woman and more to the point he wasn’t Claire.
The same year that Carole married Stewart, Claire married her cousin James Tebb although their union was not a love match it was one of convenience and the marriage was never consummated as James was very, very gay.
The disposition of Claire’s heart was, as it always had been since she was 18, because her one and only love was Carole.
Ever since they graduated Carole and Claire had remained the best of friends but no more than that and other than a peck on the cheek there was no physicality, that was until they were 25 and attending the wedding of their former house mate Alison Holmes to her long time lover Eric Jespersen.
It was late on in the evening after the bride and groom had left, Claire was on her own as her sham husband was in New York with his boyfriend and she and Carole were outside on the terrace getting some air while Stewart had gone off to the loo.
They had both had a lot of wine and were laughing and joking but suddenly and without warning Claire planted her mouth over Carole’s and invaded her mouth with her tongue and Carole responded in kind and it was just like the first time.
But as the familiar fire began to ignite her loins she came to her senses and broke away.
“No” Carole said “We cant”
“But you were enjoying it” Claire said
“I know” she said “which is presicely why we mustn’t”
“No” Claire retorted angrily “that’s precisely why we should”
Carole shook her head and walked away and Claire shouted after her
“I’ve missed you Carole and I’ve missed your touch”
Carole paused by the door and responded
“And I’ve missed yours”
Carole went back inside to find Stewart while Claire stayed on the terrace and cried.
Carole really enjoyed the kiss and she wanted it as much as Claire but she had drawn a line underneath that part of her life.
But the fire that Claire lit inside her during that special kiss had to be quenched by her husband Stewart who was only too pleased to oblige her.
In the days that followed the kiss on the terrace Carole had numerous missed calls and texts from Claire which she chose to ignore, although in truth she was desperate to see her but she knew if she did she would weaken.
But on Wednesday morning Carole got a text message that she just couldnt ignore.
The message just read “This is for you”
And when she opened the attachment she went weak at the knees as she looked at the selfie image of Claire wearing a seethrough nightie and everything that she had regularly enjoyed was on full display and the fire in her loins returned.
(Part 03)
Carole opened the attachment and she went weak at the knees as she looked at the selfie image of Claire wearing a seethrough nightie and everything that she had regularly enjoyed was on full display and the fire in her loins returned.
Carole studied the image as she decided how to word her reply.
Ten minutes after opening the attachment she typed her reply
“I want to see more”
She was hoping that her message would prompt further attachments of salacious pictures of Claire but instead she just received another text which read.
“Come to the house at 7 and you will”
Carole looked gorgeous when she left the house and for just a moment Stewart wondered if she was dressed up for the benefit of someone else, but he dismissed the thought almost as soon as it entered his mind.
After all Carole had a very low sex drive and didn’t really like sex that much.
And of course he was right, Carol was not seeing another man, there was no point, she had a man, a good man, a kind and loving man who she loved very much and making love with him was very good, she certainly couldn’t do any better elsewhere.
Carole had discovered while at University, at the hand of Claire Jarvis that she liked her bread buttered on the other side and so it was with lustful thoughts that Carole drove from Childean to Purplemere.
It was a beautiful summer evening and the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle was everywhere, drifting on the evening breeze, filling Carole’s nostrils and catching in her dry throat, which was dry from nerves.
There were drinks on the patio table so she picked one up and the ice in the glass chinked out a melody.
Through the open French window, the sun streamed into the room, spreading across Claire’s semi recumbent form, bathing her pale porcelain skin in its yellow glow and Carole was as hot as the sun.
She looked on with delight at Claire’s perfect sensual beauty and as she marvelled at the sight her loins filled afresh with lust and an unquenchable desire forged of steel and fire as her hungry eyes consumed her glorious treasures and she felt no shame at the beholding of her, the roundness of her breasts and the curves of her hips.
Carole stepped in through the French doors and slipped of her little black dress.
Claire looked up at her with beguiling eyes and Carole knelt beside the couch that her goddess was draped upon and then she covered her smooth silken skin with kisses, kisses that Claire had not felt for three long years.
And from that night on she led a double life, dutiful wife to husband Stewart except for two nights a week when she was Claire’s lesbian lover.
Carole Bean went to the University of Downshire where she studied English at Abbottsford and it was for her, like many girls of her age, a life defining time.
She was in halls for the first year and she shared with three other girls
Amy Coates, a tall big busted girl, Alison Holmes, a skinny girl with a bad case of OCD and Claire Jarvis a quiet busty brunette.
All four of the girls were studying English in one form or another and apart from their studies they also had in common the fact they were all natives of the Finchbottom Vale.
Claire was from Purplemere, Carole from Childean, Alison from Finchbottom and Amy from Shallowfield.
The friendship that resulted from, on the face of it, 4 very different characters coming together, lasted for their lifetimes and as they got on so well the four of them decided very early on to rent a house between them for the second and third years.
However of all the girls, Carole found herself drawn most to Claire Jarvis.
The fact that the two of them had more lectures and seminars together than the other two partly aided their closeness but it was mainly because they got each other, they shared a sense of humour as well as having similar tastes in music, a love of pizza and old romantic comedies.
But what really drew them together in her first year was something that would define her world and shake her to the core.
It happened during the Easter Holiday of their first year when Carole returned to the flat to discover Claire laying naked on the sofa and Carole couldn’t take her eyes off of her and when Claire discovered that she had an audience Carole couldn’t keep her hands off her either and they made love for the first time.
Allthough neither of them could fully come to terms with the fact that they might be gay it didn’t prevent them from adding to their lesbian experiences throughout their University years and the fact that they were in love but unsure of their true sexuality they still kept a foot in both camps by dating men as well but when it came down to the love making they still prefered each other.
But after they graduated University they both ended up marrying men and had to content themselves with being friends instead of lovers.
Because two years after she graduated Carole Bean fell head over heels in love with Stewart Simpson and they married a year later.
They were very happy together and it was a good marriage they didn’t have children, but they never had plans for that, and it was unlikely to change in the immediate future so everything in the garden was lovely the only fly in the ointment was the lack of fulfilment in the bedroom.
(Part 02)
Carole’s problem was that she had a very low sex drive and was therefore quite content with only having sex on high days and holidays but for her husband Stewart the reverse was true, he would have liked to be doing it with his wife all the time.
It wasn’t that the sex was unpleasant or totally unfulfilling it was just that he wasn’t a woman and more to the point he wasn’t Claire.
The same year that Carole married Stewart, Claire married her cousin James Tebb although their union was not a love match it was one of convenience and the marriage was never consummated as James was very, very gay.
The disposition of Claire’s heart was, as it always had been since she was 18, because her one and only love was Carole.
Ever since they graduated Carole and Claire had remained the best of friends but no more than that and other than a peck on the cheek there was no physicality, that was until they were 25 and attending the wedding of their former house mate Alison Holmes to her long time lover Eric Jespersen.
It was late on in the evening after the bride and groom had left, Claire was on her own as her sham husband was in New York with his boyfriend and she and Carole were outside on the terrace getting some air while Stewart had gone off to the loo.
They had both had a lot of wine and were laughing and joking but suddenly and without warning Claire planted her mouth over Carole’s and invaded her mouth with her tongue and Carole responded in kind and it was just like the first time.
But as the familiar fire began to ignite her loins she came to her senses and broke away.
“No” Carole said “We cant”
“But you were enjoying it” Claire said
“I know” she said “which is presicely why we mustn’t”
“No” Claire retorted angrily “that’s precisely why we should”
Carole shook her head and walked away and Claire shouted after her
“I’ve missed you Carole and I’ve missed your touch”
Carole paused by the door and responded
“And I’ve missed yours”
Carole went back inside to find Stewart while Claire stayed on the terrace and cried.
Carole really enjoyed the kiss and she wanted it as much as Claire but she had drawn a line underneath that part of her life.
But the fire that Claire lit inside her during that special kiss had to be quenched by her husband Stewart who was only too pleased to oblige her.
In the days that followed the kiss on the terrace Carole had numerous missed calls and texts from Claire which she chose to ignore, although in truth she was desperate to see her but she knew if she did she would weaken.
But on Wednesday morning Carole got a text message that she just couldnt ignore.
The message just read “This is for you”
And when she opened the attachment she went weak at the knees as she looked at the selfie image of Claire wearing a seethrough nightie and everything that she had regularly enjoyed was on full display and the fire in her loins returned.
(Part 03)
Carole opened the attachment and she went weak at the knees as she looked at the selfie image of Claire wearing a seethrough nightie and everything that she had regularly enjoyed was on full display and the fire in her loins returned.
Carole studied the image as she decided how to word her reply.
Ten minutes after opening the attachment she typed her reply
“I want to see more”
She was hoping that her message would prompt further attachments of salacious pictures of Claire but instead she just received another text which read.
“Come to the house at 7 and you will”
Carole looked gorgeous when she left the house and for just a moment Stewart wondered if she was dressed up for the benefit of someone else, but he dismissed the thought almost as soon as it entered his mind.
After all Carole had a very low sex drive and didn’t really like sex that much.
And of course he was right, Carol was not seeing another man, there was no point, she had a man, a good man, a kind and loving man who she loved very much and making love with him was very good, she certainly couldn’t do any better elsewhere.
Carole had discovered while at University, at the hand of Claire Jarvis that she liked her bread buttered on the other side and so it was with lustful thoughts that Carole drove from Childean to Purplemere.
It was a beautiful summer evening and the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle was everywhere, drifting on the evening breeze, filling Carole’s nostrils and catching in her dry throat, which was dry from nerves.
There were drinks on the patio table so she picked one up and the ice in the glass chinked out a melody.
Through the open French window, the sun streamed into the room, spreading across Claire’s semi recumbent form, bathing her pale porcelain skin in its yellow glow and Carole was as hot as the sun.
She looked on with delight at Claire’s perfect sensual beauty and as she marvelled at the sight her loins filled afresh with lust and an unquenchable desire forged of steel and fire as her hungry eyes consumed her glorious treasures and she felt no shame at the beholding of her, the roundness of her breasts and the curves of her hips.
Carole stepped in through the French doors and slipped of her little black dress.
Claire looked up at her with beguiling eyes and Carole knelt beside the couch that her goddess was draped upon and then she covered her smooth silken skin with kisses, kisses that Claire had not felt for three long years.
And from that night on she led a double life, dutiful wife to husband Stewart except for two nights a week when she was Claire’s lesbian lover.
Labels:
First Love,
Love,
New Love,
Romance,
Short Story,
Soul Mates,
True Love
Tuesday, 13 June 2017
Downshire Diary – (79) The Matchmakers Match
Olivia Conway was a theatre sister at the Winston Churchill Hospital and she was a rather ordinary looking middle-aged woman just the wrong side of 50.
Olivia was five foot six inches tall and very trim, and stood an inch or so taller in her shoes, and her sisters uniform fitted her to perfection, tapered at the waist where the broad belt sat.
Her once strawberry blonde hair was now peppered with grey.
She was always smiling, but the ageing in her face wasn’t all due to laughter lines, life’s hardships and experiences were etched into her face as well, each line and furrow an event and for those who could read such signs it was like her résumé.
She was well-liked and respected at work and many of her colleagues were close friends outside of work.
But when she chose to she could be a private person and didn’t talk about everything in her private life and when she was outside of work she didn’t discuss every aspect of her work.
She had lived in the small Downshire village of Clarence in the Finchbottom Vale for 20 years and was believed to be a lonely soul as she lived alone and had never married.
When she wasn’t working long hours at the Winston Churchill she was heavily involved with Mary of Bethany church and she was very popular with the other congregants.
Olivia was by profession a care giver and in the village she was considered to be an angel of mercy because she would, in her own time, visit parishioners in need, she was also a matchmaker and a good one to boot.
But as good as she undoubtedly was at bringing other people together she always accepted that the sweet romances she engineered were what other people could have but not her, she wished it wasn’t so but she was resigned to it.
But she was wrong.
Mark Reid was an oncology Doctor from the Winston Churchill who, along with his wife Carol, had been Olivia’s friend for many years and she had been his greatest support over the two years since he was widowed but not in the manner that she would have liked.
Since Mark was widowed he threw himself into his work and his patients and every time he lost another one he had to grieve all over again.
It all came to a head when 11 year old Steve Wiltshire succumbed to leukemia and he broke down completely, luckily Olivia was on hand and made sure no one else witnessed his distress.
At the end of her shift she managed to sneak Mark down in the goods lift and drove him to her home in Clarence, and on the journey home she offered to put him up and he offered no objection.
Olivia put Mark up in the spare room and settled him into bed and he stayed there for three days and only on the fourth day he did leave the room.
Mark lay in his bed, as he had since he arrived in Clarence, wishing he was in hers.
Since Carol died Olivia had been a great support to him which was greatly appreciated but over the last 12 months that appreciation had turned to love.
He did nothing about it however, as much as he wanted her, in case it ruined their friendship, which he valued greatly.
Also he didn’t want her to think less of him, he was not aware of the disposition of her own heart, if he had been he would have acted sooner.
But as he lay there on his fourth day in Clarence he chastised himself for his cowardice and decided to take decisive action so he waited until he heard her go downstairs and got out of bed, and made himself presentable.
Washed and shaved he opened his bedroom door and quietly left his room and crossed the landing to the top of the stairs and tiptoed down the stairs and thought he could hear something in the kitchen, so he crept to the kitchen door, which was slightly ajar, and then he looked in and he could see Olivia standing at the counter making a hot drink and he smiled, because she was wearing blue and white-striped pajamas, the old fashioned ones with a drawstring around the waist.
He walked quietly up behind her and lightly placed his hands on her waist and she gasped and leant back in his arms.
“You made me jump”
“Sorry” he said but his hands remained on her waist and she was still leant against him.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked
“I will be soon” he replied and turned her to face him
“Oh” she exclaimed and then he kissed her
And what a kiss it was, long and languid and full of latent passion and when it ended Olivia relaxed in his arms and he confessed.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long”
“Me too” she murmured
Later that day as they lay in her bed cuddling in the afterglow Olivia was feeling very pleased with herself for a job well done, firstly because she had finally got the man she had been in love with for years, secondly because she had not had to take the initiative, he had very definitely wanted her so finally the match maker had her match.
Olivia was five foot six inches tall and very trim, and stood an inch or so taller in her shoes, and her sisters uniform fitted her to perfection, tapered at the waist where the broad belt sat.
Her once strawberry blonde hair was now peppered with grey.
She was always smiling, but the ageing in her face wasn’t all due to laughter lines, life’s hardships and experiences were etched into her face as well, each line and furrow an event and for those who could read such signs it was like her résumé.
She was well-liked and respected at work and many of her colleagues were close friends outside of work.
But when she chose to she could be a private person and didn’t talk about everything in her private life and when she was outside of work she didn’t discuss every aspect of her work.
She had lived in the small Downshire village of Clarence in the Finchbottom Vale for 20 years and was believed to be a lonely soul as she lived alone and had never married.
When she wasn’t working long hours at the Winston Churchill she was heavily involved with Mary of Bethany church and she was very popular with the other congregants.
Olivia was by profession a care giver and in the village she was considered to be an angel of mercy because she would, in her own time, visit parishioners in need, she was also a matchmaker and a good one to boot.
But as good as she undoubtedly was at bringing other people together she always accepted that the sweet romances she engineered were what other people could have but not her, she wished it wasn’t so but she was resigned to it.
But she was wrong.
Mark Reid was an oncology Doctor from the Winston Churchill who, along with his wife Carol, had been Olivia’s friend for many years and she had been his greatest support over the two years since he was widowed but not in the manner that she would have liked.
Since Mark was widowed he threw himself into his work and his patients and every time he lost another one he had to grieve all over again.
It all came to a head when 11 year old Steve Wiltshire succumbed to leukemia and he broke down completely, luckily Olivia was on hand and made sure no one else witnessed his distress.
At the end of her shift she managed to sneak Mark down in the goods lift and drove him to her home in Clarence, and on the journey home she offered to put him up and he offered no objection.
Olivia put Mark up in the spare room and settled him into bed and he stayed there for three days and only on the fourth day he did leave the room.
Mark lay in his bed, as he had since he arrived in Clarence, wishing he was in hers.
Since Carol died Olivia had been a great support to him which was greatly appreciated but over the last 12 months that appreciation had turned to love.
He did nothing about it however, as much as he wanted her, in case it ruined their friendship, which he valued greatly.
Also he didn’t want her to think less of him, he was not aware of the disposition of her own heart, if he had been he would have acted sooner.
But as he lay there on his fourth day in Clarence he chastised himself for his cowardice and decided to take decisive action so he waited until he heard her go downstairs and got out of bed, and made himself presentable.
Washed and shaved he opened his bedroom door and quietly left his room and crossed the landing to the top of the stairs and tiptoed down the stairs and thought he could hear something in the kitchen, so he crept to the kitchen door, which was slightly ajar, and then he looked in and he could see Olivia standing at the counter making a hot drink and he smiled, because she was wearing blue and white-striped pajamas, the old fashioned ones with a drawstring around the waist.
He walked quietly up behind her and lightly placed his hands on her waist and she gasped and leant back in his arms.
“You made me jump”
“Sorry” he said but his hands remained on her waist and she was still leant against him.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked
“I will be soon” he replied and turned her to face him
“Oh” she exclaimed and then he kissed her
And what a kiss it was, long and languid and full of latent passion and when it ended Olivia relaxed in his arms and he confessed.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long”
“Me too” she murmured
Later that day as they lay in her bed cuddling in the afterglow Olivia was feeling very pleased with herself for a job well done, firstly because she had finally got the man she had been in love with for years, secondly because she had not had to take the initiative, he had very definitely wanted her so finally the match maker had her match.
Labels:
First Love,
Love,
New Love,
Romance,
Short Story,
Soul Mates,
True Love
Mornington-By-Mere – (79) Calming the Tempest
The New Year’s Eve party at the Mornington Manor was in full swing when Samantha arrived, she’d had to work late so arranged to meet Kevin at the party.
But a combination of bad luck and an awkward family get together, meant she was even later than she had anticipated and when she walked into the ballroom she was ready to grovel in apology to him, but he was nowhere to be seen.
She asked around and eventually she ascertained he had last been seen crossing the terrace heading in the direction of the summerhouse so she followed in his footsteps however it appeared it was too late for her apologies, and it was even too late to save her engagement as she found her Fiancé Kevin otherwise engaged, with her cousin Bryony, who was bent over a planter with her underwear around her knees and him stood very intimately behind her.
If Samantha had been surprised by what greeted her in the summerhouse it was nothing compared to Kevin’s surprise when she kicked him in the scrotum as he tried to put his manhood back in his trousers and there was definitely a look of surprise on Bryony’s face a split second after Samantha punched it as she tried to hoist her underwear back up, and she fell backwards over the planter.
With Kevin doubled up and unable to speak and Bryony laying on her back with her legs in the air like an upturned beetle and her knickers still halfway up her thighs Samantha stormed out of the Manor like a Celtic Goddess with her flaming red hair streaming behind her.
She sped through the crowd of guests like a heat seeking missile, through the ballroom, the entrance hall and shot straight out the main entrance and into the car park and straight into Nigel Hagarth who was lost in thought as he walked the other way and they both ended up in a heap on the floor.
“Why don’t you look where you’re going you fucking idiot” she screamed, but Nigel totally ignored Samantha’s angry remarks and instead chose to look at the striking red head with an appraising eye.
“Are you ok?” he asked with concern
She looked confused at first, unable to comprehend why someone would be nice to her after she had firstly poleaxed him and then very rudely blamed him for it.
She opened her mouth to launch another tirade at him but dissolved into tears instead.
Nigel took her in his arms and comforted her while she cried her pitiful tears and as they sat on the tarmac of the car park outside the Manor, and in the darkness as she sobbed and dribbled on his new jacket, their hearts somehow became entwined.
But a combination of bad luck and an awkward family get together, meant she was even later than she had anticipated and when she walked into the ballroom she was ready to grovel in apology to him, but he was nowhere to be seen.
She asked around and eventually she ascertained he had last been seen crossing the terrace heading in the direction of the summerhouse so she followed in his footsteps however it appeared it was too late for her apologies, and it was even too late to save her engagement as she found her Fiancé Kevin otherwise engaged, with her cousin Bryony, who was bent over a planter with her underwear around her knees and him stood very intimately behind her.
If Samantha had been surprised by what greeted her in the summerhouse it was nothing compared to Kevin’s surprise when she kicked him in the scrotum as he tried to put his manhood back in his trousers and there was definitely a look of surprise on Bryony’s face a split second after Samantha punched it as she tried to hoist her underwear back up, and she fell backwards over the planter.
With Kevin doubled up and unable to speak and Bryony laying on her back with her legs in the air like an upturned beetle and her knickers still halfway up her thighs Samantha stormed out of the Manor like a Celtic Goddess with her flaming red hair streaming behind her.
She sped through the crowd of guests like a heat seeking missile, through the ballroom, the entrance hall and shot straight out the main entrance and into the car park and straight into Nigel Hagarth who was lost in thought as he walked the other way and they both ended up in a heap on the floor.
“Why don’t you look where you’re going you fucking idiot” she screamed, but Nigel totally ignored Samantha’s angry remarks and instead chose to look at the striking red head with an appraising eye.
“Are you ok?” he asked with concern
She looked confused at first, unable to comprehend why someone would be nice to her after she had firstly poleaxed him and then very rudely blamed him for it.
She opened her mouth to launch another tirade at him but dissolved into tears instead.
Nigel took her in his arms and comforted her while she cried her pitiful tears and as they sat on the tarmac of the car park outside the Manor, and in the darkness as she sobbed and dribbled on his new jacket, their hearts somehow became entwined.
Labels:
First Love,
Love,
New Love,
Romance,
Short Story,
Soul Mates,
True Love
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (79) The Christmas Gift
Claire Jarvis went to the University of Downshire where she studied English at Abbottsford and it was for her, like many girls of her age, a life defining time.
She was the only child of well to do parents, who divorced when she was seven and as a result she had been thoroughly spoilt and was given everything her heart desired, except the one thing she craved most in all the world, their love and as a result she withdrew into her own world.
Although Claire was the oldest of the four girls in her dorm she actually looked the youngest by some distance.
Despite the fact that she had the body of a mature woman she had a baby face but she was destined to bloom into a very beautiful woman.
She was in halls for the first year and she shared with three other girls Amy Coates, a tall big busted redhead, Alison Holmes, a skinny girl with a bad case of OCD and Carole Bean a tall, beautiful and kindly girl who like herself was a brunette.
All four of the girls were studying English in one form or another and apart from their studies they also had in common the fact they were all natives of the Finchbottom Vale.
Claire was from Purplemere, Carole from Childean, Alison from Finchbottom and Amy from Shallowfield.
But being in the close company of the three girls brought her out of herself and the friendship that resulted from, on the face of it, 4 very different characters coming together, lasted for their lifetimes.
And as they got on so well the four of them decided very early on to rent a house between them for the second and third years.
However of all the girls Claire found herself drawn most to Carole Bean.
The fact that the two of them had more lectures and seminars together than the other two partly aided their closeness but it was mainly because they got each other, they shared a sense of humour as well as having similar tastes in music, a love of pizza and old romantic comedies and when it came time to go home to the Vale they normally travelled together, but what really drew them together in her first year was something that would define her world and shake her to the core.
It happened during the Easter Holiday of their first year when Carole returned to the flat to discover Claire laying naked on the sofa and Carole couldn’t take her eyes off of her and when Claire discovered that she had an audience Carole couldn’t keep her hands off her either and they made love for the first time.
Allthough neither of them could fully come to terms with the fact that they might be gay it didn’t prevent them from adding to their lesbian experiences throughout their University years and the fact that they were in love and because of that love they had some very exciting experiences together one of which was particularly memorable and occurred at the house they shared.
At the end of the year they found themselves alone in the rented house on Christmas Eve, they wanted to spend a whole day of their first Christmas together on their own, and they would travel back to the Vale early on Christmas Morning to spend Christmas with their families.
They were all packed for the next day apart from the presents which were still sitting underneath the tree, just to make the place more Christmassy.
And all that afternoon and most of the evening Claire was like a child.
“Can I open a present?” she asked Carole every ten minutes.
“Just one, please, please, please” she begged and after several hours of it, she was getting right on Carole’s tits to tell the truth.
She kept picking up the presents, shaking them, squeezing them, and even listening to them until finally Carole relented and as she headed upstairs to the loo she said.
“We can open one present each before we leave for midnight mass”
“Oh Goody” Claire squealed
When she came back down stairs she was expecting to find Claire waiting impatiently by the tree to open a present.
But instead she found her lying beneath the tree with wrapping paper loosely draped about her body and she wasn’t wearing any clothes.
“You go first” she said
Once Carole had un-wrapped her present and thoroughly enjoyed the contents they were very nearly late for midnight mass.
She was the only child of well to do parents, who divorced when she was seven and as a result she had been thoroughly spoilt and was given everything her heart desired, except the one thing she craved most in all the world, their love and as a result she withdrew into her own world.
Although Claire was the oldest of the four girls in her dorm she actually looked the youngest by some distance.
Despite the fact that she had the body of a mature woman she had a baby face but she was destined to bloom into a very beautiful woman.
She was in halls for the first year and she shared with three other girls Amy Coates, a tall big busted redhead, Alison Holmes, a skinny girl with a bad case of OCD and Carole Bean a tall, beautiful and kindly girl who like herself was a brunette.
All four of the girls were studying English in one form or another and apart from their studies they also had in common the fact they were all natives of the Finchbottom Vale.
Claire was from Purplemere, Carole from Childean, Alison from Finchbottom and Amy from Shallowfield.
But being in the close company of the three girls brought her out of herself and the friendship that resulted from, on the face of it, 4 very different characters coming together, lasted for their lifetimes.
And as they got on so well the four of them decided very early on to rent a house between them for the second and third years.
However of all the girls Claire found herself drawn most to Carole Bean.
The fact that the two of them had more lectures and seminars together than the other two partly aided their closeness but it was mainly because they got each other, they shared a sense of humour as well as having similar tastes in music, a love of pizza and old romantic comedies and when it came time to go home to the Vale they normally travelled together, but what really drew them together in her first year was something that would define her world and shake her to the core.
It happened during the Easter Holiday of their first year when Carole returned to the flat to discover Claire laying naked on the sofa and Carole couldn’t take her eyes off of her and when Claire discovered that she had an audience Carole couldn’t keep her hands off her either and they made love for the first time.
Allthough neither of them could fully come to terms with the fact that they might be gay it didn’t prevent them from adding to their lesbian experiences throughout their University years and the fact that they were in love and because of that love they had some very exciting experiences together one of which was particularly memorable and occurred at the house they shared.
At the end of the year they found themselves alone in the rented house on Christmas Eve, they wanted to spend a whole day of their first Christmas together on their own, and they would travel back to the Vale early on Christmas Morning to spend Christmas with their families.
They were all packed for the next day apart from the presents which were still sitting underneath the tree, just to make the place more Christmassy.
And all that afternoon and most of the evening Claire was like a child.
“Can I open a present?” she asked Carole every ten minutes.
“Just one, please, please, please” she begged and after several hours of it, she was getting right on Carole’s tits to tell the truth.
She kept picking up the presents, shaking them, squeezing them, and even listening to them until finally Carole relented and as she headed upstairs to the loo she said.
“We can open one present each before we leave for midnight mass”
“Oh Goody” Claire squealed
When she came back down stairs she was expecting to find Claire waiting impatiently by the tree to open a present.
But instead she found her lying beneath the tree with wrapping paper loosely draped about her body and she wasn’t wearing any clothes.
“You go first” she said
Once Carole had un-wrapped her present and thoroughly enjoyed the contents they were very nearly late for midnight mass.
Labels:
First Love,
Love,
New Love,
Romance,
Short Story,
Soul Mates,
True Love
Those Memories Made on Teardrop Lake – (79) Love at the Claremont Hotel
(Part 01)
Shallowfield sat on the southern edge of the Finchbottom Vale and was bordered on the other side by the Dancingdean forest and the town’s fortunes had always relied largely upon forestry and agriculture for its survival.
In the post war years with rationing and a shortage of work a lot of people moved away from the area and it only just survived and the community around Teardrop Lake fared even worse.
Only a few of the houses around the Lake were thriving, a lot of the houses had been rented out and those that hadn’t were in a poor state of repair, some too such an extent they were little more than ruins.
But by the 70s however things were beginning to change, thanks mainly to tourism as a result of an increase in leisure time.
This trend was reflected by the fact that the previously derelict Shallowfield Lodge, which had been inherited by a young couple from Lincolnshire, Rob and Sheryl Brown, was being turned into a Hotel.
From then on Shallowfield went from strength to strength which was echoed by the fortunes of the Claremont Hotel.
It was once the home of a wealthy Downshire family but like so many similar great houses in the county it fell into disuse as the fortunes of the owners suffered after the Great War.
It had had many reincarnations since then, particularly in the years between the wars and had been used for many things over the post war years but it wasn’t until the 60s that it became The Claremont Hotel.
However things had got tough in the Hotel trade with the success of Travelodge, Premier Inn and Holiday Inn Express and so places like the Claremont needed to offer something extra to attract the guests.
In the early summer a new manager was appointed, Matthew Millward, and he was an instant hit with the locals because he was young, tall, dark and handsome, physically fit, well-toned and had a reputation as a fair minded guy, which had very much preceded him.
He was 28 years old and his father owned the Millward Manor chain of hotels and he was grooming him to one day take over the reins of his worldwide hotel empire, the problem was that Matt had no head for business and he felt that he was more of an artistic soul.
Which could possibly have been ignored but for the fact that he had broken off his engagement with the granddaughter of his father’s oldest friend.
However that in itself wasn’t what had him exiled, it was Elaine’s attempted suicide, not that his action had caused her mental meltdown, it was rather more her mental instability being the deciding factor that forced him to end the engagement.
So it was decided to send Matt to the Claremont Hotel where he could do no real harm until the dust settled.
When he first found out he was being sent to Shallowfield, Matt was very unhappy, he was a city boy, born and bred, and he viewed being sent to the country as purgatory, but no one was more surprised than he was when he found that he actually loved it, it was a beautiful place, it was quiet and the air was clean and he felt immediately at home.
(Part 02)
When he first found out he was being sent to Shallowfield Matt was very unhappy, he was a city boy, born and bred, and he viewed being sent to the country as purgatory, but no one was more surprised than he was when he found that he actually loved it, it was a beautiful place, it was quiet and the air was clean and he felt immediately at home.
He had also fallen head of heels in love with Sarah Poole, the Hospitality Manager, in spite of the fact he had pledged not to get romantically entangled with anyone, but all his resolve evaporated after she kissed him out of the blue, but then she ran away.
Sarah Poole was five foot eight with short red hair, in a pixie cut, mesmerizing green eyes and a cute figure with curves in all the right places and long slender legs.
She was 26 years old and wasn’t looking for a relationship either because she was married, albeit to an alcoholic who hadn’t had shown her any marital attention for two years but she was still married to him nonetheless.
Sarah had worked at the hotel since she left school, five years in housekeeping, reaching deputy manager, and five more in hospitality, and for two of those she was Manager and she loved her job, and she also loved Matthew Millward.
But she was a married woman and so she told herself in no uncertain terms that she couldn’t have him, and she decided the best way to ensure that nothing happened between them was to avoid him.
And that worked very well for the first few days, however fate took a hand when an angry guest had a problem that demanded the presence of both of them.
As suspected the guest had somewhat overdramatised the situation and what he had suspected was a water leak, turned out to have been caused by him knocking his glass of water off his night stand while he was sleeping.
With a very embarrassed guest skilfully placated by Sarah the pair of them went down the fire escape stairs.
“Well done” he said and a moment later added “and you look very nice today by the way”
“You shouldn’t say things like that” she said “it might be misconstrued”
“In what way?” he asked
“It could be seen as sexual harassment” she asked
“Not at all, I’m merely complimenting a co-worker on her appearance” he said
“But it might be seen in a different light” she pointed out in a flirtatious way
“Well I can give an example of sexual harassment if you like” Matthew said
“Ok I’m here to learn” she said so Matthew pushed her into the corner of the stairwell and kissed her and when he had finished he said
“That would be considered a mild example”
“Wow” she said “can I have another example?”
Matthew obliged her request but they both wanted more than stolen kisses in a stairwell but they also knew it couldn’t happen.
Shallowfield sat on the southern edge of the Finchbottom Vale and was bordered on the other side by the Dancingdean forest and the town’s fortunes had always relied largely upon forestry and agriculture for its survival.
In the post war years with rationing and a shortage of work a lot of people moved away from the area and it only just survived and the community around Teardrop Lake fared even worse.
Only a few of the houses around the Lake were thriving, a lot of the houses had been rented out and those that hadn’t were in a poor state of repair, some too such an extent they were little more than ruins.
But by the 70s however things were beginning to change, thanks mainly to tourism as a result of an increase in leisure time.
This trend was reflected by the fact that the previously derelict Shallowfield Lodge, which had been inherited by a young couple from Lincolnshire, Rob and Sheryl Brown, was being turned into a Hotel.
From then on Shallowfield went from strength to strength which was echoed by the fortunes of the Claremont Hotel.
It was once the home of a wealthy Downshire family but like so many similar great houses in the county it fell into disuse as the fortunes of the owners suffered after the Great War.
It had had many reincarnations since then, particularly in the years between the wars and had been used for many things over the post war years but it wasn’t until the 60s that it became The Claremont Hotel.
However things had got tough in the Hotel trade with the success of Travelodge, Premier Inn and Holiday Inn Express and so places like the Claremont needed to offer something extra to attract the guests.
In the early summer a new manager was appointed, Matthew Millward, and he was an instant hit with the locals because he was young, tall, dark and handsome, physically fit, well-toned and had a reputation as a fair minded guy, which had very much preceded him.
He was 28 years old and his father owned the Millward Manor chain of hotels and he was grooming him to one day take over the reins of his worldwide hotel empire, the problem was that Matt had no head for business and he felt that he was more of an artistic soul.
Which could possibly have been ignored but for the fact that he had broken off his engagement with the granddaughter of his father’s oldest friend.
However that in itself wasn’t what had him exiled, it was Elaine’s attempted suicide, not that his action had caused her mental meltdown, it was rather more her mental instability being the deciding factor that forced him to end the engagement.
So it was decided to send Matt to the Claremont Hotel where he could do no real harm until the dust settled.
When he first found out he was being sent to Shallowfield, Matt was very unhappy, he was a city boy, born and bred, and he viewed being sent to the country as purgatory, but no one was more surprised than he was when he found that he actually loved it, it was a beautiful place, it was quiet and the air was clean and he felt immediately at home.
(Part 02)
When he first found out he was being sent to Shallowfield Matt was very unhappy, he was a city boy, born and bred, and he viewed being sent to the country as purgatory, but no one was more surprised than he was when he found that he actually loved it, it was a beautiful place, it was quiet and the air was clean and he felt immediately at home.
He had also fallen head of heels in love with Sarah Poole, the Hospitality Manager, in spite of the fact he had pledged not to get romantically entangled with anyone, but all his resolve evaporated after she kissed him out of the blue, but then she ran away.
Sarah Poole was five foot eight with short red hair, in a pixie cut, mesmerizing green eyes and a cute figure with curves in all the right places and long slender legs.
She was 26 years old and wasn’t looking for a relationship either because she was married, albeit to an alcoholic who hadn’t had shown her any marital attention for two years but she was still married to him nonetheless.
Sarah had worked at the hotel since she left school, five years in housekeeping, reaching deputy manager, and five more in hospitality, and for two of those she was Manager and she loved her job, and she also loved Matthew Millward.
But she was a married woman and so she told herself in no uncertain terms that she couldn’t have him, and she decided the best way to ensure that nothing happened between them was to avoid him.
And that worked very well for the first few days, however fate took a hand when an angry guest had a problem that demanded the presence of both of them.
As suspected the guest had somewhat overdramatised the situation and what he had suspected was a water leak, turned out to have been caused by him knocking his glass of water off his night stand while he was sleeping.
With a very embarrassed guest skilfully placated by Sarah the pair of them went down the fire escape stairs.
“Well done” he said and a moment later added “and you look very nice today by the way”
“You shouldn’t say things like that” she said “it might be misconstrued”
“In what way?” he asked
“It could be seen as sexual harassment” she asked
“Not at all, I’m merely complimenting a co-worker on her appearance” he said
“But it might be seen in a different light” she pointed out in a flirtatious way
“Well I can give an example of sexual harassment if you like” Matthew said
“Ok I’m here to learn” she said so Matthew pushed her into the corner of the stairwell and kissed her and when he had finished he said
“That would be considered a mild example”
“Wow” she said “can I have another example?”
Matthew obliged her request but they both wanted more than stolen kisses in a stairwell but they also knew it couldn’t happen.
Labels:
First Love,
Love,
New Love,
Romance,
Short Story,
Soul Mates,
True Love
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