It is Winter 1966. When five couples find themselves stranded at a remote high class inn by extreme weather conditions, they amuse each other by relating stories of an erotic nature, as well as taking part in all kinds of private and group sexual activities.
Chapter One: The Theatre Company Manager
'Shit!' Emma swore out loud to herself. She had left the new contract file on her desk at the flat. A file she would need with her in Cambridge. There! That's what comes of letting Rick have an early morning farewell fuck, instead of getting out of bed, she thought, stuffing her arms hurriedly into her coat.
That self-indulgence had delayed her. It meant that she'd had to rush round to get herself ready and pack her case. Still, when she recalled the exquisite pleasure of his Romeo deep inside her Juliet - goodness, she thought, the silly names we give to things - and the satisfying orgasmic relief, she reckoned it was worth the delay. After all, the journey was only about ninety miles so, providing there were no hold ups on the way, she would still get there in good time to meet Jake Castle and his agent by lunch time. And her flat was only a short walk away.
She snatched up her diary and her pen, dropped them into her bag, grabbed her brief case and hurried out of her office, calling to the secretary as she left that she was, finally, on her way.
'I'll phone in tomorrow and check out with you. Don't forget that message for Douglas.'
'OK! Have fun!' came from inside the other office.
'I'll try,' she called, hurrying out of the door. Fun! Not very likely, she thought. The touring company had run into a series of problems and she had to rush to Manchester to sort them out. She wasn't sure how Jake Castle would go down with the others actors in the company, either. Still! To hell with them!, she told herself.
She reached the car park to drop the brief case on the passenger seat of her new Capri. From there she walked quickly to her flat, on the first floor of a converted large Victorian house, the erstwhile family home of some lace magnate. Running quickly up the carpeted staircase, she fumbled in her bag for the key and let herself into her lounge. There was the file, on the desk where she had forgotten to pick it up in her hurry to leave for the office. As she took up the folder, she froze. She thought she heard someone crying in her bedroom.
What on earth ...! she muttered to herself. Emma held her breath, straining her ears to listen. Sure enough, the sounds were coming from the bedroom. It sounded like a woman in there, quietly wailing and whimpering. She tiptoed to the door, which wasn't properly closed. Pushing it ajar a few inches she peeped into the room.
Her jaw dropped in astonishment. There, on her bed, the heaving buttocks of Rick were bouncing up and down. He was plunging vigorously between the wide open legs, pointing to the ceiling in a large V, of the groaning woman. Hearing the rhythmic slapping of Rick's balls against the girl's bottom, it crossed Emma's mind that copulation between humans looked ridiculously clumsy when you weren't the one doing it.
'Yes, yes, yes!' The unknown woman was gasping softly but urgently to herself, her legs trembling and sawing the air, her loins bucking wildly and hands clawing at Rick's back.
As his rhythm disintegrated, loins bouncing hard at the hidden thighs, Rick cried out triumphantly 'I come, I come, my heart's delight!' The very expression he had used only four hours earlier when coming into Emma. The file she was holding slipped from her grasp and shuttered to the floor.
Rick turned in sudden surprise. Emma was glaring at him in astonishment and disbelief. As he turned, pulling away from the girl, Emma watched his discharge spurting into the condom, filling its sac. She also saw that the recipient of Rick's heart's delight was one of the new young acting members, Jenny Carver, with her thighs yawning wide, showing wet, tousled, hairy genitals. And on the bedside table Emma saw an empty packet. Her own condoms! For God's sake!
It took a great deal of effort to draw on a composure she certainly didn't feel. There was a short silence.
'Please go, and put my flat key by the phone as you leave.' Emma spoke in her calm, cultured voice as she picked up the file.
She went into the kitchen where she leaned her back against the fridge for support, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. The bloody traitor! she thought. The fucking, bloody traitor! Her fury began to rise in her gullet as tears of anger filled her eyes. How dare he? She wiped away the tears of humiliation from her cheeks with the back of her hand with a brusque gesture.
Then, with a resolute thrust, she pushed herself away from the fridge and stormed back into the lounge to have it out with him, only to see the front door closing behind the disappearing couple.
'You fucking louse!' she yelled as she collapsed into the arm chair, breathing heavily.
Pull yourself together girl, she told herself taking deliberate deep breaths. He's only a stupid actor. It's your own fault for falling for such a corny line. Quotes from Shakespeare, Keats and goodness knows who else besides. She shook her head in disbelief at her gullibility. After all those years of firm self-discipline, to surrender herself to a young Lothario was stupid.
Collecting her thoughts, she went quickly into the bedroom into go through to the bathroom to repair her make-up. The bed-clothes were in a tangle and the sod had even had the bloody cheek to leave the used condom beneath her bed-side lamp. And on top of her new copy of The Clockwork Orange, no less! She lifted the sticky receptacle between forefinger and thumb, held it at arms length, went into the bathroom and dropped it down the lavatory pan. So much for up-and-coming young actors. Sod 'em all! she spat out loud to herself, angrily flushing the handle.
As a final insult, the condom refused to be flushed away the first time, bobbing in the turbulent water as a kind of mockery
Emma left her flat in a confused state of mind. She returned to the car, thinking that it was just as well she was going to be away for a few days. It would give her some time to sort herself out, to decide what attitude to take on her return. She headed out on the A52 worrying that she was going to be late. Well, if she was, Jake Castle would just have to wait, that's all!
Actors spend most of their life waiting, anyway! Waiting at rehearsals, waiting to go on stage, waiting to get another job. Thankfully, though cold, the weather was dry and clear. Even so, she didn't like the look of the clouds gathering ominously to the west. She switched on the car-radio to hear the news and weather forecast.
'Oh, my God! Snow!' she moaned out loud.