"Wow, that's what I call a critics review," said Robert Preston.
He was in bed on a Sunday morning, with his fiancé Michelle Conner, reading an on line review of his Bistro in the local newspaper.
"Mmm, that's nice," said Michelle sleepily, turning over and going back to sleep.
The Bistro had been fully booked the previous night and the two of them were exhausted by the time they got back to their flat, to tired to make love, which was rare as they had a very active and varied sex life.
He re-read the article, which gave the Bistro Five stars in all categories. As the owner and chef, this was excellent news.
He pulled back the duvet and gazed at Michelle's naked body. In her mid 40's, she was still stunning looking , with the body and sex drive of a much younger woman.
He stroked the soft skin of her back and trailed his hand down to caress the twin orbs of her arse, he loved to play with them, taking him back to his first sexual encounter, with an older lady and a pair of satin panties in a London Park.
He smiled at the memory, and as Michelle stirred he reached over and cupped her left breast, the nipple becoming erect instantly.
He kissed her neck, then trailed his lips up to her ear and began to nibble and suck on the lobe, knowing this was a real turn on for her.
Michelle responded by turning around and kissing him, deeply and passionately. Her hand reaching down and encircling his quite large penis. She began to rub gently and moved her lips from his and down to to his quite hairy chest. Down and down until her tongue began to lap the head of his penis. Round and round the bulbous head, then down the length, up again and around the head again.
She knew the anticipation of full oral sex was one of his favourites, so she teased for a while, licking, trailing her lips and tongue up and down his length, sucking on his balls.
Finally Robert said "As much as I love that, please suck me properly,"
Michelle, the penis in her hand, looked up at him, smiled and closed her lips over the head and slowly slid the whole length into her mouth.
Robert lay back, enjoying the sensations. Thinking how lucky he was, he had a successful business, good health after a couple of years of medical problems, he was good looking, good body and a lady in his life, who was very sexy, loved sex and as a bonus, gave incredible blow jobs, life was good.
Michelle loved this man, and loved sex, a perfect combination. She loved the feel of his penis, sliding between her lips, and the taste of him.
As he approached his climax, she increased the pressure and when he ejaculated, she took the whole load into her mouth, then swallowed it down. She loved the taste of him, she loved the whole package of Robert Preston, he was her man.
On the other side of the Pennines, in the village of Emmerdale, Victoria Barton, woke alone, as usual. She had slept alone since her husband Adam had fled to escape a murder accusation, of which he was innocent.
She lay in her bed and thinking of her Adam, slid her hand down her pyjamas and began to rub her pussy. They had a brilliant sex life, which she missed more than anything. But since Adam, no man or woman had experienced the delight of making love to her.
She climaxed, which though satisfying, did not compensate for coupling with another human being.
While she wanted, indeed craved sex, her body crying out for it, the prospect of anything happening in the near future, seemed remote.
She lived in a small village, with no eligible men of her own age, apart from Adams brother, Ross, who she despised. Her job as the assistant chef in the village pub meant unsocial hours, so the future, in the sex stakes looked bleak.
Back in Weatherfield the next day, the phone at the Bistro never stopped ringing, the review had caused quite a stir and many new customers wanted to sample the menu and surroundings.
Robert and Michelle were delighted of course, though it meant more work, the extra interest and income would allow some staff recruitment, especially in the kitchen, to relive Robert of some of the cooking duties.
Then another call, not from a customer, but a hotel in the Yorkshire Dales. They were holding a two day class, aimed at small kitchens and in view of his growing reputation in the field, would he be interested in taking part as one of the professional chefs on the course. The money offered was extremely generous, so after consulting his diary and the bistros schedule, he rang back and accepted the offer.
Over in Emmerdale, Victoria reported for her lunchtime shift at the Woolpack. While she enjoyed working there, she really wanted her own business and was saving like mad to make it happen.
As she peeled what seemed a never ending supply of potatoes, her phones 'pinged' it was a message from a catering agency, she was registered with, advertising a two day course in a hotel in Connleton, aimed at small kitchens, the cost was pricey, but manageable. She would think about it.
Victoria added up the pros and cons of attending the course and concluded that though it would make a significant dent in her bank account, it might just be worth it in the long term. She also took into account, that she just might meet the man of her dreams, who would sweep her off her feet and they would live happily ever after. Or someone who just wanted a good screw with no strings attached.
A few weeks later, Robert handed over the responsibilities of running the bistro to Michelle and the new chef, and set off for two days of mentoring young chefs.
"Behave yourself and don't get up to any mischief," said Michelle, as she kissed him goodby. The thoughts of the previous nights lovemaking, long, slow and oh so satisfying, still vivid in her mind.
Robert replied, "why would I, when I have you at home?"
A last kiss, and he was on his way.
There was no one to wave Victoria off as she climbed into her old banger of a car, hoping it would get her to Connelton safely.
The hotel was lovely, an old converted country house, set in its own grounds.
Robert was impressed with the surroundings and even more so with the facility, where he would be tutoring the young chefs.
