(Part 01)
Michael White had been working in Los Angeles as an associate script writer since graduating from University and hadn’t been back to Mornington for 4 years but he had become disillusioned with the American Dream and was relocating back to Downshire while it was easy to do before any fresh romantic entanglements over complicated matters and furthermore once back in the UK he planned to stay put.
In the short term he was going to stay at his parents in the small country village of Mornington-By-Mere which lies in the Finchbottom Vale that nestles 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.
He loved the Vale and planned to make his home there in one of the villages but for now 26 year old Michael was moving back to his childhood home at number 2, The Close, with his parents and two younger brothers.
But for the first week or so he had the place to himself because the rest of the family were away in the Canaries.
His flight was delayed so by the time he got to their house it was after three o’clock and he was surprised to see there were signs of life in the house, he assumed he must have got his dates wrong as he parked his car on the drive and went inside not knowing who or what was inside.
But as he went in all was quiet, so he left his case in the hall and went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
When he had opened his beer he opened the door and made his way outside and as he stepped out onto the patio the sun emerged from behind a cloud and flooded into the garden and he did a double take.
In the centre of the patio was a sun lounger which was exactly where he would have expected it to be, but that was not what surprised him.
What had got his attention, directly in front of him perfectly illuminated on the lounger, was the most beautiful curvaceous figure of a young woman.
It was not a figure he was very familiar with, as far as he could recollect, it certainly wasn’t his mum’s or anyone else he would have expected to find in his parents garden, but it was a delicious figure.
But whoever the owner of it was she was laying in the foetal position on the lounger with her back to him, partially covered by a pashmina.
Michael stepped backwards into the kitchen and glanced around the room which confirmed to him that it was indeed his parent’s home and then he went back out again.
(Part 02)
Michael stepped backwards into the kitchen and glanced around the room which confirmed to him that it was indeed his parents’ home and then he went back out again.
The figure still remained illuminated by the sunlight as he walked over to the lounger, his first instinct was to give it a firm slap on the bum and wake up its owner and tell her to get out of his garden but instead he found himself giving the girl an intense perusal, beginning with the honey blonde hair that shimmered under the sun’s rays, as they sat randomly against her lightly tanned skin.
He couldn’t see enough of her face to form an opinion as to countenance or appearance so his eyes travelled in the opposite direction following the topography of her well-toned form, her back, her waist her hips and of course her firm buttocks.
He spent a long time studying that particular feature, the sweeping curve of her hip and the roundness of her buttocks, which he thought would be undoubtedly fleshy.
His eyes hungrily consumed every inch of her of every contour slowly exploring every aspect of its delicious shape.
It was as his eyes were moving along the lengthy thighs of her gorgeous legs that the girl began to stir and she murmured in her half sleep as she began to stretch out in wakefulness and rolled over onto her back which opened up a fresh expanse of her terrain for his eyes to explore and then her eyes opened and she gasped in surprise.
“Ohhhh Michael” she exclaimed “What kept you?”
And with that she reached up and gripped at his shirt and pulled him towards her and then she kissed him.
The moment she rolled over he knew the identity of the intruder, Kathryn Williams who lived next door at number 1, she had been running after him since she was 9 and he was in year ten, but she was a skinny freckly klutz and even if there hadn’t been the insane age gap she did nothing for him, well it appeared that she had grown up while he was away at University and in America and with a little mental arithmetic he ascertained she was now 20.
And as she was kissing him he determined that she certainly did something for him now.
Kathryn had fallen in love with Michael White on the occasion of her 9th Birthday when he kissed her cheek and she had dreamed of capturing his heart every day after that.
She was patient and was not perturbed by his time at University she just bided her time while she grew up, she tried on other young men for size as she did so but they never measured up.
However his decision to move to California was unexpected and heart breaking in equal measure, but she never gave up hope and when his mum Louise mentioned that he was coming home for good and that he would be staying in Mornington for a while she decided to seize her chance.
She innocently gleaned more information from the White family and when it became apparent that he would be in the house on his own she planned her honeyed trap.
She casually obtained the flight details from his Dad and volunteered her services to Louise to water her house plants which gave her access to the house and her plan was set.
However what she hadn’t accounted for was a three hour flight delay, which was why she fell asleep on the lounger and because she had fallen asleep in the warm sunshine she dreamed of him, so when she awoke and he was standing over her she took it as a sign and struck and the way he was returning her kiss she knew she had him.
Wednesday 31 May 2017
Mornington-By-Mere – (68) We Shouldn’t Be Doing This
It was midnight in Mornington-By-Mere and Andy Wilson was in the bus shelter snogging, or perhaps it would be more accurately to say that he was being snogged, by Suzy Newbold, and she had been going at it for about ten minutes before she came up for air.
They had both been to a house party in Purplemere road on the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside and he was walking her home as she lived in Military Row and he lived in The Close, when she suddenly dragged him into the bus shelter.
Now that wouldn’t normally have been a problem, Suzy was a very attractive girl, a very sexy girl, the problem was she wasn’t his girl.
His girl Sharon was still at the party throwing up in the downstairs toilet.
Suzy kissed him again, this time more urgently than before and more passionate and while her tongue was engaged in his mouth his mind was in turmoil as all the time a little voice was nagging at the back of his mind saying
“You shouldn’t be doing this”
And a second voice yelled in reply
“But she’s a really good kisser”
“What about the girl you love?” the first voice continued
“But this one is snogging your face off” Screamed the second
“Think about Sharon” the quiet voice said
“Think about the girl in your arms” came the loud response
“Suzy’s not your girlfriend, Sharon is” the whisper said
“Sharon hasn’t got her tongue in your mouth” came the other one in response.
“But you love Sharon” Jiminy Cricket whispered
“You can love Sharon when she’s snogging you” the devil shouted
The quiet voice spoke very sagely but suffice is to say the louder voice made some valuable points as well, so he relinquished any lingering resistance and decided to give his undivided attention to the woman with her lips on his.
Instead of his previously passive participation he joined in with relish and she responded in kind, but after a few minutes he broke away and snapped
“We shouldn’t be doing this”
“Oh I think we should” she retorted and tried to reengage
“No we shouldn’t” he insisted “What about Sharon?”
“What about her?” Suzy asked
“Well while she’s throwing up in the toilet at the party I’m here snogging another girl” he pointed out
“But she’s not” Suzy said
“She’s not what?”
“She’s not throwing up, she never was” she explained
“I’m confused” he said
“Sharon wasn’t in the bathroom” Suzy admitted “She’d already left the party with Tony Dark”
“But I love her” He said “How could she do that?”
“She did it for me because I love you” she mumbled and looked at her shoes
“You do?” he asked
“Yes” she replied “I always have”
“So let me get this straight” he said “Sharon has dumped me and is going out with Tony Dark?”
“Yes”
“And Sharon and I are definitely finished?”
“Yes” she confirmed
“Well in that case come here and give me a kiss”
They had both been to a house party in Purplemere road on the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside and he was walking her home as she lived in Military Row and he lived in The Close, when she suddenly dragged him into the bus shelter.
Now that wouldn’t normally have been a problem, Suzy was a very attractive girl, a very sexy girl, the problem was she wasn’t his girl.
His girl Sharon was still at the party throwing up in the downstairs toilet.
Suzy kissed him again, this time more urgently than before and more passionate and while her tongue was engaged in his mouth his mind was in turmoil as all the time a little voice was nagging at the back of his mind saying
“You shouldn’t be doing this”
And a second voice yelled in reply
“But she’s a really good kisser”
“What about the girl you love?” the first voice continued
“But this one is snogging your face off” Screamed the second
“Think about Sharon” the quiet voice said
“Think about the girl in your arms” came the loud response
“Suzy’s not your girlfriend, Sharon is” the whisper said
“Sharon hasn’t got her tongue in your mouth” came the other one in response.
“But you love Sharon” Jiminy Cricket whispered
“You can love Sharon when she’s snogging you” the devil shouted
The quiet voice spoke very sagely but suffice is to say the louder voice made some valuable points as well, so he relinquished any lingering resistance and decided to give his undivided attention to the woman with her lips on his.
Instead of his previously passive participation he joined in with relish and she responded in kind, but after a few minutes he broke away and snapped
“We shouldn’t be doing this”
“Oh I think we should” she retorted and tried to reengage
“No we shouldn’t” he insisted “What about Sharon?”
“What about her?” Suzy asked
“Well while she’s throwing up in the toilet at the party I’m here snogging another girl” he pointed out
“But she’s not” Suzy said
“She’s not what?”
“She’s not throwing up, she never was” she explained
“I’m confused” he said
“Sharon wasn’t in the bathroom” Suzy admitted “She’d already left the party with Tony Dark”
“But I love her” He said “How could she do that?”
“She did it for me because I love you” she mumbled and looked at her shoes
“You do?” he asked
“Yes” she replied “I always have”
“So let me get this straight” he said “Sharon has dumped me and is going out with Tony Dark?”
“Yes”
“And Sharon and I are definitely finished?”
“Yes” she confirmed
“Well in that case come here and give me a kiss”
Mornington-By-Mere – (67) The Reluctant Hero
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 are a number of cottages and small houses on the Purplemere Road and Dulcets Lane which form the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside and 37 year old Divorcee Tony Chester lived at number 6, Dulcet Mill Lane.
Tony worked for O’Sullivan and Springthorpe Auctioneers, and managed the newly set up storage facility up at Mornington Field but his job also involved him having to spend time at some of the other premises like the ones in Shallowfield and Purplemere, and it was in the latter where he came into regular contact with Helen Gearing.
And the time he spent in Purplemere was fraught with problems, or problem, namely Helen who had been trying to get in his trousers for two years but he had always resisted her because although he was divorced from his ex-wife Gemma and despite the fact that she was a bitch he still loved her.
Plus although he actually liked her he thought Helen was a really annoying woman even though she did have a great figure and fabulous breasts.
But his resistance was finally broken one summer night when he had been over to the Purplemere office to help with the audit.
Everyone had to work quite late and it was after ten by the time he left and he thought he had escaped her clutches as she left ten minutes before him.
But he had hardly driven half a mile before his mobile rang and it was Helen.
“What is it Helen?” he said sharply
“I’m a damsel in distress” she replied
“Why what’s wrong?” he asked indifferently
“I’ve broken down” she replied “On the Express Way”
He suspected that it was a ruse but his conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave her helpless woman at the roadside so he weakened and agreed to go and help her.
She was parked in in a layby beside the Finchbottom Express Way, the only layby on the entire stretch that offered any privacy as there was a stand of trees separating it from the road.
“That’s very secluded” he thought to himself as he pulled up behind her and got out
“Thanks for coming” she said “you’re my hero”
“What’s the problem?” he said side stepping her flannel and looking inside the open bonnet
“Will the engine start?”
“I don’t know, but my motors running hot” she replied and when he turned to look at her, she was standing beside the driver’s door wearing a very figure hugging outfit.
He had always thought that she had a great figure and curves in all the right places but as she stood there in the moonlight she looked gorgeous and any lingering resistance to her charms melted away under the moonlight in the secluded layby.
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 are a number of cottages and small houses on the Purplemere Road and Dulcets Lane which form the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside and 37 year old Divorcee Tony Chester lived at number 6, Dulcet Mill Lane.
Tony worked for O’Sullivan and Springthorpe Auctioneers, and managed the newly set up storage facility up at Mornington Field but his job also involved him having to spend time at some of the other premises like the ones in Shallowfield and Purplemere, and it was in the latter where he came into regular contact with Helen Gearing.
And the time he spent in Purplemere was fraught with problems, or problem, namely Helen who had been trying to get in his trousers for two years but he had always resisted her because although he was divorced from his ex-wife Gemma and despite the fact that she was a bitch he still loved her.
Plus although he actually liked her he thought Helen was a really annoying woman even though she did have a great figure and fabulous breasts.
But his resistance was finally broken one summer night when he had been over to the Purplemere office to help with the audit.
Everyone had to work quite late and it was after ten by the time he left and he thought he had escaped her clutches as she left ten minutes before him.
But he had hardly driven half a mile before his mobile rang and it was Helen.
“What is it Helen?” he said sharply
“I’m a damsel in distress” she replied
“Why what’s wrong?” he asked indifferently
“I’ve broken down” she replied “On the Express Way”
He suspected that it was a ruse but his conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave her helpless woman at the roadside so he weakened and agreed to go and help her.
She was parked in in a layby beside the Finchbottom Express Way, the only layby on the entire stretch that offered any privacy as there was a stand of trees separating it from the road.
“That’s very secluded” he thought to himself as he pulled up behind her and got out
“Thanks for coming” she said “you’re my hero”
“What’s the problem?” he said side stepping her flannel and looking inside the open bonnet
“Will the engine start?”
“I don’t know, but my motors running hot” she replied and when he turned to look at her, she was standing beside the driver’s door wearing a very figure hugging outfit.
He had always thought that she had a great figure and curves in all the right places but as she stood there in the moonlight she looked gorgeous and any lingering resistance to her charms melted away under the moonlight in the secluded layby.
Tuesday 30 May 2017
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (70) The Wedding Planner
(Part 01)
Twenty eight year old Paul Ingram was involved with an older woman, a forty year old woman to be precise, who was a beautiful unhappily married, soon to be divorced Carrington Chase educated woman, called Francesca Carrington-Webber.
Paul and Francesca both lived in the village of Forest Dean situated equidistant between Shallowfield and Childean, she lived in a huge house that backed onto the The Forest Ridge Golf Club, and coincidentally Paul worked for the Golf Club.
They became involved after three chance meetings, two on a train and the third more significant one was on the Promenade in Sharpington, where he came upon her small huddled figure on the bench ahead of him in some distress and after some tender moments of consolation lead to them making love in his caravan.
Since that night they had had a non-physical relationship and on the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend some time together they always made the most of it, sometimes they had to create opportunities and sometimes they just happened and sometimes one of them managed to surprise the other but the biggest surprise came on the Halloween weekend when she arrived at his caravan dressed as a witch and announced that not only was she divorcing her husband David but that she was staying the night.
On the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend the night together they always made the most of it but sometimes they had to create opportunities and on occasion it took planning.
But there were even rarer occasions on which there was a combination of the two.
It was early on a bright May Saturday morning when he was just leaving the clubhouse at the Forest Ridge Golf Club.
“Paul darling” a voice said in familiar tones and he turned round to see the lovely Francesca dressed up to the nines.
She looked stunning in a lemon coloured suit and matching accessories, as usual she was stylishly coordinated from hat to shoes and everything in between.
“Hello Francesca, where are you off to?” he asked even though he knew the answer
“My sister Adrienne’s wedding” she said raising her eyebrows “Number four”
“Well you look gorgeous as usual,” he said as he gave her an appraising gaze. “Immaculately accessorised”
“Well thank you kind sir” she said
“Everything matching?” he asked raising an eyebrow
“Everything darling” she whispered “as usual”
“So what are you doing here?” he asked
“Well I do have a rather convoluted tale of the why’s and wherefores, but to tell the truth I just came to show off the outfit”
She confessed and then she smiled in the very cute way she had where her nose wrinkled.
“And the place is deserted” she said and shrugged “what about you?”
“I was looking for someone to play with,” he said
“And we all know what kind of game you like to play” she said cheekily
“Well you should know better than most” he whispered and Francesca blushed.
“Do you want to play?” she asked
“Always” he replied
“I meant Golf,” Francesca stated
“So did I” he lied
“No you didn’t” she retorted “Thank God”
“Where is the wedding by the way?” he asked
“Clayton Manor” she replied
“I don’t suppose you know the room number?” he whispered
“No I don’t” she replied indignantly but her eyes intimated she would let him know.
After he’d watched Francesca walk away towards the car park it started to rain so he decided to abandon the search for a partner and go home and get ready to gate crash a wedding.
(Part 02)
He got to the Hotel just after 10 o’clock, when the party was in full swing and slipped unnoticed up to the bar and mingled with the revellers as he looked for his quarry.
He knew the Clayton Manor and he also knew that the only access to the toilets from the function room was via the bar, so from his position he had a clear view of the ladies as they tottered off to the loos.
Paul didn’t have to wait too long before the lovely Francesca emerged from the ballroom looking every bit as gorgeous as she had that morning at the golf club, just a slight unsteadiness and a flushing of her cheeks betrayed the fact she had been drinking.
He let her carry on tottering to the ladies unmolested but intercepted her on the return journey.
“Francesca Carrington-Webber!!” Paul said and made her jump
“Oh hello” she said trying to hide her pleasure at seeing him and failing miserably
“What a surprise seeing you here”
“Yes it’s a small world” he responded “Are you enjoying yourself at the party?”
“Yes it’s been a wonderful party darling” she said “But I’m very tired now and I was thinking of turning in soon”
“Why don’t you join me for a drink first” he suggested
“Yes that would be lovely” she replied “just a quick one”
“Really? I think we can do better than that” he said quietly and she blushed scarlet.
For the next 10 minutes they sat at a table in the crowded bar and made banal small talk but as Francesca got towards the bottom of her glass she asked
“Is your room nice?”
“I don’t have one” he replied “I’m not sure if I’m staying”
“I see”
“What about you?” he asked
“Yes I have a lovely room” she replied and wetting her finger she wrote a number on the table.
“Well I will say goodnight then” she said and stood up “it was really nice seeing you again”
“Likewise” he responded “Goodnight”
He watched her as she walked away in her accessorised lemon suit and thought how much he loved her.
He remained in the bar for ten minutes and then paid a visit to the gents before taking the back stairs up to Francesca’s floor and when he was sure the coast was clear he knocked on the door to her room
“Room service” he called and the door opened
“Yes please” she replied and pulled him into the room by his belt and the second the door closed behind him she pinned him to the door and kissed him.
“You were pleased to see me then?” he said
“Yes” she replied unnecessarily “but it was agony, I so wanted to kiss you and hold you”
“So did I” Paul said and kissed her before they walked deeper into the room.
Twenty eight year old Paul Ingram was involved with an older woman, a forty year old woman to be precise, who was a beautiful unhappily married, soon to be divorced Carrington Chase educated woman, called Francesca Carrington-Webber.
Paul and Francesca both lived in the village of Forest Dean situated equidistant between Shallowfield and Childean, she lived in a huge house that backed onto the The Forest Ridge Golf Club, and coincidentally Paul worked for the Golf Club.
They became involved after three chance meetings, two on a train and the third more significant one was on the Promenade in Sharpington, where he came upon her small huddled figure on the bench ahead of him in some distress and after some tender moments of consolation lead to them making love in his caravan.
Since that night they had had a non-physical relationship and on the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend some time together they always made the most of it, sometimes they had to create opportunities and sometimes they just happened and sometimes one of them managed to surprise the other but the biggest surprise came on the Halloween weekend when she arrived at his caravan dressed as a witch and announced that not only was she divorcing her husband David but that she was staying the night.
On the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend the night together they always made the most of it but sometimes they had to create opportunities and on occasion it took planning.
But there were even rarer occasions on which there was a combination of the two.
It was early on a bright May Saturday morning when he was just leaving the clubhouse at the Forest Ridge Golf Club.
“Paul darling” a voice said in familiar tones and he turned round to see the lovely Francesca dressed up to the nines.
She looked stunning in a lemon coloured suit and matching accessories, as usual she was stylishly coordinated from hat to shoes and everything in between.
“Hello Francesca, where are you off to?” he asked even though he knew the answer
“My sister Adrienne’s wedding” she said raising her eyebrows “Number four”
“Well you look gorgeous as usual,” he said as he gave her an appraising gaze. “Immaculately accessorised”
“Well thank you kind sir” she said
“Everything matching?” he asked raising an eyebrow
“Everything darling” she whispered “as usual”
“So what are you doing here?” he asked
“Well I do have a rather convoluted tale of the why’s and wherefores, but to tell the truth I just came to show off the outfit”
She confessed and then she smiled in the very cute way she had where her nose wrinkled.
“And the place is deserted” she said and shrugged “what about you?”
“I was looking for someone to play with,” he said
“And we all know what kind of game you like to play” she said cheekily
“Well you should know better than most” he whispered and Francesca blushed.
“Do you want to play?” she asked
“Always” he replied
“I meant Golf,” Francesca stated
“So did I” he lied
“No you didn’t” she retorted “Thank God”
“Where is the wedding by the way?” he asked
“Clayton Manor” she replied
“I don’t suppose you know the room number?” he whispered
“No I don’t” she replied indignantly but her eyes intimated she would let him know.
After he’d watched Francesca walk away towards the car park it started to rain so he decided to abandon the search for a partner and go home and get ready to gate crash a wedding.
(Part 02)
He got to the Hotel just after 10 o’clock, when the party was in full swing and slipped unnoticed up to the bar and mingled with the revellers as he looked for his quarry.
He knew the Clayton Manor and he also knew that the only access to the toilets from the function room was via the bar, so from his position he had a clear view of the ladies as they tottered off to the loos.
Paul didn’t have to wait too long before the lovely Francesca emerged from the ballroom looking every bit as gorgeous as she had that morning at the golf club, just a slight unsteadiness and a flushing of her cheeks betrayed the fact she had been drinking.
He let her carry on tottering to the ladies unmolested but intercepted her on the return journey.
“Francesca Carrington-Webber!!” Paul said and made her jump
“Oh hello” she said trying to hide her pleasure at seeing him and failing miserably
“What a surprise seeing you here”
“Yes it’s a small world” he responded “Are you enjoying yourself at the party?”
“Yes it’s been a wonderful party darling” she said “But I’m very tired now and I was thinking of turning in soon”
“Why don’t you join me for a drink first” he suggested
“Yes that would be lovely” she replied “just a quick one”
“Really? I think we can do better than that” he said quietly and she blushed scarlet.
For the next 10 minutes they sat at a table in the crowded bar and made banal small talk but as Francesca got towards the bottom of her glass she asked
“Is your room nice?”
“I don’t have one” he replied “I’m not sure if I’m staying”
“I see”
“What about you?” he asked
“Yes I have a lovely room” she replied and wetting her finger she wrote a number on the table.
“Well I will say goodnight then” she said and stood up “it was really nice seeing you again”
“Likewise” he responded “Goodnight”
He watched her as she walked away in her accessorised lemon suit and thought how much he loved her.
He remained in the bar for ten minutes and then paid a visit to the gents before taking the back stairs up to Francesca’s floor and when he was sure the coast was clear he knocked on the door to her room
“Room service” he called and the door opened
“Yes please” she replied and pulled him into the room by his belt and the second the door closed behind him she pinned him to the door and kissed him.
“You were pleased to see me then?” he said
“Yes” she replied unnecessarily “but it was agony, I so wanted to kiss you and hold you”
“So did I” Paul said and kissed her before they walked deeper into the room.
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (69) Sisterly Love
The village of Kettlewell sat in the rolling Pepperstock Hills that formed the northwest border of The Finchbottom Vale and it was half a mile from the hamlet of Kettlewell-on-the-Hill, the two of which made up the parish of St Augustine’s Church.
And Kettlewell was 1.5 miles from its largest neighbour, Highfinch.
On one Saturday night in March there was a party at the Kettlewell Village Hall and by ten o’clock on that cool evening Paula Matthews was blind drunk and so her husband Lionel, and her sister Claire, who was also tipsy, decided to walk her home.
Once they had got her in the house and manoeuvred her into the right room the laid her on the bed and Lionel said
“We should take her dress off”
“How about we leave her as she is and we take my dress off,” Claire suggested
“Behave yourself” he said somewhat surprised at her brazenness, but he was smiling when he added “you’ve been in a funny mood all evening, now help me with her dress”
He sat Paula up again so Claire could unhook and unzip, then between them they pulled the whole thing off over her head.
Once she was just in her under things Claire started pulling her tights off as he watched.
As she left the bedroom Claire turned off the light and closed the door and then she kissed him, gently at first and then again more hotly and this took him completely by surprise.
The Matthews and the Tannings had lived all their married lives in Kettlewell and they were ordinary down to earth people and after twenty years of marriage both couples had reached their middle years without being blessed with children and so their leisure time was more often than not spent together in a variety of ways, restaurants, theatre, cinema and even holidays.
But of all the activities they had indulged in wife swapping was not one of them.
However he had always found Claire very attractive and had very often fantasized about the two of them together, but he had never once thought of acting on his attraction.
So the moment Claire’s lips touched his Lionel whole heartedly embraced the passionate kiss, during which he took his opportunity and his hands explored every inch of the sensual landscape he had often admired.
“God I’ve wanted to do that for so long” she said
“So have I” he agreed and their lips reengaged and then in the heat of passion his hands grappled up her skirt and found her stocking and suspenders.
“Wait until you're invited” she said playfully slapping him.
“Stockings and suspenders eh” he said
“Yes I wore them especially for someone” Claire said
“Paul is a very lucky man” he said
“I’m not wearing them for my husband” she said
“I’m wearing them for you”
And her lips returned to Lionel’s, and her tongue to his mouth and his hands returned to her stocking tops.
When she finally relinquished his mouth she stepped backwards and slipped out of her dress and gave him the full effect of her full ensemble of black lingerie.
“Did you really wear those for me?” he said looking at her stockings.
“I wore everything for you” she said
“It was lucky for me then that I got to enjoy them”
“There was no luck involved” she said cockily
“What do you mean?”
“I made sure you would get to enjoy them” she said proudly and then after a moment’s thought he asked
“Did you get Paula drunk?”
“It wasn’t hard I just made all her drinks doubles, she never could hold her drink” Claire said with a chuckle
“You naughty girl”
“You haven’t seen anything yet” she said and manoeuvred him into the spare room.
And Kettlewell was 1.5 miles from its largest neighbour, Highfinch.
On one Saturday night in March there was a party at the Kettlewell Village Hall and by ten o’clock on that cool evening Paula Matthews was blind drunk and so her husband Lionel, and her sister Claire, who was also tipsy, decided to walk her home.
Once they had got her in the house and manoeuvred her into the right room the laid her on the bed and Lionel said
“We should take her dress off”
“How about we leave her as she is and we take my dress off,” Claire suggested
“Behave yourself” he said somewhat surprised at her brazenness, but he was smiling when he added “you’ve been in a funny mood all evening, now help me with her dress”
He sat Paula up again so Claire could unhook and unzip, then between them they pulled the whole thing off over her head.
Once she was just in her under things Claire started pulling her tights off as he watched.
As she left the bedroom Claire turned off the light and closed the door and then she kissed him, gently at first and then again more hotly and this took him completely by surprise.
The Matthews and the Tannings had lived all their married lives in Kettlewell and they were ordinary down to earth people and after twenty years of marriage both couples had reached their middle years without being blessed with children and so their leisure time was more often than not spent together in a variety of ways, restaurants, theatre, cinema and even holidays.
But of all the activities they had indulged in wife swapping was not one of them.
However he had always found Claire very attractive and had very often fantasized about the two of them together, but he had never once thought of acting on his attraction.
So the moment Claire’s lips touched his Lionel whole heartedly embraced the passionate kiss, during which he took his opportunity and his hands explored every inch of the sensual landscape he had often admired.
“God I’ve wanted to do that for so long” she said
“So have I” he agreed and their lips reengaged and then in the heat of passion his hands grappled up her skirt and found her stocking and suspenders.
“Wait until you're invited” she said playfully slapping him.
“Stockings and suspenders eh” he said
“Yes I wore them especially for someone” Claire said
“Paul is a very lucky man” he said
“I’m not wearing them for my husband” she said
“I’m wearing them for you”
And her lips returned to Lionel’s, and her tongue to his mouth and his hands returned to her stocking tops.
When she finally relinquished his mouth she stepped backwards and slipped out of her dress and gave him the full effect of her full ensemble of black lingerie.
“Did you really wear those for me?” he said looking at her stockings.
“I wore everything for you” she said
“It was lucky for me then that I got to enjoy them”
“There was no luck involved” she said cockily
“What do you mean?”
“I made sure you would get to enjoy them” she said proudly and then after a moment’s thought he asked
“Did you get Paula drunk?”
“It wasn’t hard I just made all her drinks doubles, she never could hold her drink” Claire said with a chuckle
“You naughty girl”
“You haven’t seen anything yet” she said and manoeuvred him into the spare room.
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (68) Bath Night
(Part 01)
Twenty eight year old Paul Ingram was involved with an older woman, a forty year old woman to be precise, who was a beautiful unhappily married, soon to be divorced Carrington Chase educated woman, called Francesca Carrington-Webber.
Paul and Francesca both lived in the village of Forest Dean situated equidistant between Shallowfield and Childean, she lived in a huge house that backed onto the The Forest Ridge Golf Club, and coincidentally Paul worked for the Golf Club.
They became involved after three chance meetings, two on a train and the third more significant one was on the Promenade in Sharpington, where he came upon her small huddled figure on the bench ahead of him in some distress and after some tender moments of consolation lead to them making love in his caravan.
Since that night they had had a non-physical relationship and on the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend some time together they always made the most of it, sometimes they had to create opportunities and sometimes they just happened and sometimes one of them managed to surprise the other but the biggest surprise came on the Halloween weekend when she arrived at his caravan dressed as a witch and announced that not only was she divorcing her husband David but that she was staying the night.
On the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend the night together they always made the most of it but sometimes they had to create opportunities and sometimes they just happened.
But at other times life conspired to keep them apart, illness, work commitments, family events and on one occasion it was chicken pox as Francesca’s children both had them.
Paul had never had the virus so he had to stay away but when the children were given the all clear he still couldn’t get close to her because her aunt had pitched up during the illness and stayed for two weeks after the all clear.
He knew from an earlier overheard conversation in the post office that the aunt had finally gone home so he decided to pay her a visit but because the children were in the house he left it until well after their bedtime.
He wasn’t expecting any action, it had just been so long since he’d been able to see her and hold her that he just wanted a kiss and a hug.
He took his usual route passed the Vicarage and down the lane by the church, then he took the path that crossed the golf course from where he traversed the course until he reached the back of Francesca’s house and he could see that the downstairs lights were still on.
Paul kept to the shadows and made his way up to the house and looked through the window and he could see Francesca was already in her nightclothes and as he watched her pad around the kitchen he felt the tell-tale feelings of pride and then he tapped on the window.
She looked up immediately and gave him a broad smile and opened the door
“What are you doing here?” she said but before he had chance to reply she was kissing him.
(Part 02)
Paul kept to the shadows and made his way up to the house and looked through the window and he could see Francesca was already in her nightclothes and as he watched her pad around the kitchen he felt the tell-tale feelings of pride and then he tapped on the window.
She looked up immediately and gave him a broad smile and opened the door
“What are you doing here?” she said but before he had chance to reply she was kissing him.
“I wanted to see you” he responded when she came up for air and they kissed again
“God I’ve missed you” she said and hugged him tightly
“Me too” he agreed
“We can’t do anything though” Francesca said “The children are here”
“That’s ok” he replied “I just came for a hug”
“Good because I’m going to have a bath and go to bed” she said
“Oooh that sounds nice can I join you?”
“For which?” she asked
“Both” he replied hopefully
“I thought you only came for a hug” she asked suspiciously
“I did, but a bath sounds nice” Paul said
“No” she replied
“Oh go on” he begged “we’ve never had a bath together”
“No” she repeated
“Go on you know you want to” he urged
“Well it would be nice” she mused
“It really would” he agreed
“Ok then” She said and then with a wag of her finger she added
“But no funny business”
“I promise” he said and crossed his heart
As they lay stretched out in the bath together, Francesca was lying back against his chest, she had loosely tied her hair up to keep it out of the water and he kissed her neck and wrapped his arms around her.
It was a very relaxing bath and he was glad he had persuaded her to share it with him but he was enjoying it a little too much.
“You can stop that right away” she said suddenly
“Stop what?” he asked
“You know very well what” she said “We are no longer alone”
“Ah you noticed” he said
“We can’t be doing that tonight” she said and hugged his arm and then she stood up and he watched the water running over her glorious contours.
“I know, but it’s a real shame” he said and caressed her buttock.
She got out the bath first and then he followed and they began drying each other.
He was sitting on the edge of the bath drying her legs but she wrapped her arms around him and she purred
“We could do it if we’re quiet”
“I thought you said no funny business” he said
“I did” she purred and kissed him “but I love funny business”
“I love you” Paul said
“I love you and funny business” Francesca said and kissed him
“Me too” he agreed
“Stay the night with me?” she asked and he replied with a kiss.
Twenty eight year old Paul Ingram was involved with an older woman, a forty year old woman to be precise, who was a beautiful unhappily married, soon to be divorced Carrington Chase educated woman, called Francesca Carrington-Webber.
Paul and Francesca both lived in the village of Forest Dean situated equidistant between Shallowfield and Childean, she lived in a huge house that backed onto the The Forest Ridge Golf Club, and coincidentally Paul worked for the Golf Club.
They became involved after three chance meetings, two on a train and the third more significant one was on the Promenade in Sharpington, where he came upon her small huddled figure on the bench ahead of him in some distress and after some tender moments of consolation lead to them making love in his caravan.
Since that night they had had a non-physical relationship and on the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend some time together they always made the most of it, sometimes they had to create opportunities and sometimes they just happened and sometimes one of them managed to surprise the other but the biggest surprise came on the Halloween weekend when she arrived at his caravan dressed as a witch and announced that not only was she divorcing her husband David but that she was staying the night.
On the rare occasions that they managed to get to spend the night together they always made the most of it but sometimes they had to create opportunities and sometimes they just happened.
But at other times life conspired to keep them apart, illness, work commitments, family events and on one occasion it was chicken pox as Francesca’s children both had them.
Paul had never had the virus so he had to stay away but when the children were given the all clear he still couldn’t get close to her because her aunt had pitched up during the illness and stayed for two weeks after the all clear.
He knew from an earlier overheard conversation in the post office that the aunt had finally gone home so he decided to pay her a visit but because the children were in the house he left it until well after their bedtime.
He wasn’t expecting any action, it had just been so long since he’d been able to see her and hold her that he just wanted a kiss and a hug.
He took his usual route passed the Vicarage and down the lane by the church, then he took the path that crossed the golf course from where he traversed the course until he reached the back of Francesca’s house and he could see that the downstairs lights were still on.
Paul kept to the shadows and made his way up to the house and looked through the window and he could see Francesca was already in her nightclothes and as he watched her pad around the kitchen he felt the tell-tale feelings of pride and then he tapped on the window.
She looked up immediately and gave him a broad smile and opened the door
“What are you doing here?” she said but before he had chance to reply she was kissing him.
(Part 02)
Paul kept to the shadows and made his way up to the house and looked through the window and he could see Francesca was already in her nightclothes and as he watched her pad around the kitchen he felt the tell-tale feelings of pride and then he tapped on the window.
She looked up immediately and gave him a broad smile and opened the door
“What are you doing here?” she said but before he had chance to reply she was kissing him.
“I wanted to see you” he responded when she came up for air and they kissed again
“God I’ve missed you” she said and hugged him tightly
“Me too” he agreed
“We can’t do anything though” Francesca said “The children are here”
“That’s ok” he replied “I just came for a hug”
“Good because I’m going to have a bath and go to bed” she said
“Oooh that sounds nice can I join you?”
“For which?” she asked
“Both” he replied hopefully
“I thought you only came for a hug” she asked suspiciously
“I did, but a bath sounds nice” Paul said
“No” she replied
“Oh go on” he begged “we’ve never had a bath together”
“No” she repeated
“Go on you know you want to” he urged
“Well it would be nice” she mused
“It really would” he agreed
“Ok then” She said and then with a wag of her finger she added
“But no funny business”
“I promise” he said and crossed his heart
As they lay stretched out in the bath together, Francesca was lying back against his chest, she had loosely tied her hair up to keep it out of the water and he kissed her neck and wrapped his arms around her.
It was a very relaxing bath and he was glad he had persuaded her to share it with him but he was enjoying it a little too much.
“You can stop that right away” she said suddenly
“Stop what?” he asked
“You know very well what” she said “We are no longer alone”
“Ah you noticed” he said
“We can’t be doing that tonight” she said and hugged his arm and then she stood up and he watched the water running over her glorious contours.
“I know, but it’s a real shame” he said and caressed her buttock.
She got out the bath first and then he followed and they began drying each other.
He was sitting on the edge of the bath drying her legs but she wrapped her arms around him and she purred
“We could do it if we’re quiet”
“I thought you said no funny business” he said
“I did” she purred and kissed him “but I love funny business”
“I love you” Paul said
“I love you and funny business” Francesca said and kissed him
“Me too” he agreed
“Stay the night with me?” she asked and he replied with a kiss.
Monday 29 May 2017
Tales from the Finchbottom Vale – (67) Consulting the Pro
The Finchbottom Vale is nestled comfortably between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest to the south and the rolling Pepperstock Hills in the north, those who are lucky enough to live there think of it as the rose between two thorns.
And at the far eastern end of the Vale was the traditional seaside resort of Sharpington-by-Sea, complete with a Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, The Palladium ballroom, well maintained gardens, promenade, theatre and illuminations, all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park.
The four friends had spent the morning playing a foursome at the Sharpington Dunes Golf Club, they all lived locally in the town of Sharpington-By-Sea and three of them had houses that backed onto the course.
Their foursome had become a regular fixture on their social calendars after widower Dave Whitaker had taken early retirement at the age of 50.
It seemed the right thing to do at the time, his children had flown the nest, his wife had passed and his job had lost its lustre, so he retired and he had never regretted it for a moment.
Retirement enabled him to spend time with his three favourite ladies of leisure, Sarah Price, Katie George and Wilhelmina Winten.
Sarah and Katie were both wealthy grass widows and ten years younger than he was and spinster Willi was three years older and was a retired PE Teacher.
After spending a very pleasant morning on the course they lunched at the club as was their habit and as they sat down at their regular table Willi announced
“I can’t be late home today, Marta is coming to help me tidy the attic”
“It must be important if you’re going to cut your lunch short” Sarah said and they all laughed.
“If truth be told I do rather look forward to the days Marta comes to help me” she said when the laughter had subsided
“She’s really such a nice girl and very good company”
Which was when, the waitress, Georgina, arrived at the table to take their order.
“So you’re not coming to mine for drinks this afternoon Willi?” Katie asked
“I’m afraid not” she replied
“What about you Sarah?”
“No not today” she replied reading a text on her phone “somethings come up”
“Just me and you then Dave” Katie said
“Ok with me” Dave remarked
So after a very nice lunch in very pleasant company, and feeling a little over indulged, they had a rendezvous by their trolleys and prepared for the short stroll across the 18th fairway, apart that is from Sarah Price, who was the only one of the group whose house didn’t adjoin the Golf Course, she had a flat in Jubilee court overlooking the promenade.
“I’ll say goodbye now” she said “I need to pop to the pro shop before I head home”
So while the other three walked their trolleys across the 18th fairway Sarah went the other way to the pro shop.
The text she received during lunch was from David Snowdon the Golf Pro, a 6’ 2” bronzed muscular Adonis, Sarah on the other hand was not, she was attractive but she was a big buxom red head.
The bronzed God was talking to a customer when she walked in but he soon made his excuses.
“Can I help?” he said
“Yes I’m here for my Golf lesson” she replied matter of factly.
“Ok would you like to come through?”
David led her out through the door at the back of the shop and passed the stockroom, to the end of the corridor to where there was a lounge area with a Golf simulator set up.
“So what aspect of the game would you like to cover today?” he asked
“Well I have always thought that choosing the right partner is very important” Sarah said as she sidled up towards him.
“Very important” he agreed
“And the grip is also all-important” she added wrapping her arms around him.
“I have to complement you on your approach play” he said and then he kissed her as he had done many times before.
She didn’t know why a gorgeous 35 year old athletic hung was attracted to a curvaceous middle aged widow, but then she didn’t really care.
And at the far eastern end of the Vale was the traditional seaside resort of Sharpington-by-Sea, complete with a Victorian Pier, seafront hotels, crazy golf, The Palladium ballroom, well maintained gardens, promenade, theatre and illuminations, all the usual things to have a great time by the seaside, as well as amusement arcades and of course the Sharpington Fun Park.
The four friends had spent the morning playing a foursome at the Sharpington Dunes Golf Club, they all lived locally in the town of Sharpington-By-Sea and three of them had houses that backed onto the course.
Their foursome had become a regular fixture on their social calendars after widower Dave Whitaker had taken early retirement at the age of 50.
It seemed the right thing to do at the time, his children had flown the nest, his wife had passed and his job had lost its lustre, so he retired and he had never regretted it for a moment.
Retirement enabled him to spend time with his three favourite ladies of leisure, Sarah Price, Katie George and Wilhelmina Winten.
Sarah and Katie were both wealthy grass widows and ten years younger than he was and spinster Willi was three years older and was a retired PE Teacher.
After spending a very pleasant morning on the course they lunched at the club as was their habit and as they sat down at their regular table Willi announced
“I can’t be late home today, Marta is coming to help me tidy the attic”
“It must be important if you’re going to cut your lunch short” Sarah said and they all laughed.
“If truth be told I do rather look forward to the days Marta comes to help me” she said when the laughter had subsided
“She’s really such a nice girl and very good company”
Which was when, the waitress, Georgina, arrived at the table to take their order.
“So you’re not coming to mine for drinks this afternoon Willi?” Katie asked
“I’m afraid not” she replied
“What about you Sarah?”
“No not today” she replied reading a text on her phone “somethings come up”
“Just me and you then Dave” Katie said
“Ok with me” Dave remarked
So after a very nice lunch in very pleasant company, and feeling a little over indulged, they had a rendezvous by their trolleys and prepared for the short stroll across the 18th fairway, apart that is from Sarah Price, who was the only one of the group whose house didn’t adjoin the Golf Course, she had a flat in Jubilee court overlooking the promenade.
“I’ll say goodbye now” she said “I need to pop to the pro shop before I head home”
So while the other three walked their trolleys across the 18th fairway Sarah went the other way to the pro shop.
The text she received during lunch was from David Snowdon the Golf Pro, a 6’ 2” bronzed muscular Adonis, Sarah on the other hand was not, she was attractive but she was a big buxom red head.
The bronzed God was talking to a customer when she walked in but he soon made his excuses.
“Can I help?” he said
“Yes I’m here for my Golf lesson” she replied matter of factly.
“Ok would you like to come through?”
David led her out through the door at the back of the shop and passed the stockroom, to the end of the corridor to where there was a lounge area with a Golf simulator set up.
“So what aspect of the game would you like to cover today?” he asked
“Well I have always thought that choosing the right partner is very important” Sarah said as she sidled up towards him.
“Very important” he agreed
“And the grip is also all-important” she added wrapping her arms around him.
“I have to complement you on your approach play” he said and then he kissed her as he had done many times before.
She didn’t know why a gorgeous 35 year old athletic hung was attracted to a curvaceous middle aged widow, but then she didn’t really care.
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