Langley Circle Beginning

Author's note: The following is a work of fiction that contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts and is intended for adults only. All people, places, and events are a product of my imagination and any characters described as engaging in sexual acts are over the age of eighteen. Thank you for reading. All feedback is greatly appreciated.

Welcome to Langley Circle. It's a galloping romp of exciting encounters and liaisons interwoven into a "bigger picture" plot, revolving around a group of regular characters with the Parker family at its centre. You might like to consider it as somewhat similar to a TV soap opera or Netflix series. Over the course of the first season, which is complete with twenty-four episodes, The following themes crop up:- group sex, roleplay, polyamorous relationships, non-blood incest such as step and adopted relationships, mild spanking and rough sex, mild fetish, and generally a lot of hot shagging, with a good dose of humour every now and then. I hope you will stick around for the ride.

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Season One, Episode One

"Will you be home normal time tonight?" she asked as she rinsed out the cereal bowl.

"Should be," came the reply.

Beth Parker turned and gazed affectionately at her husband as he pulled his suit jacket off the table and shrugged it on; her lips curled into a wry smile. He was still a damn handsome man; perhaps a few pounds heavier than when they had married 15 years ago, but regular squash games had kept him in reasonably good shape.

He paused, twitching his eyes up to hers. "What?"

"Oh, just checking you out," She said with a smirk. "Remembering what first attracted me to you."

He stalked across the kitchen, gradually closing the gap between them, prompting her to suppress a grin as the spark of excitement danced within her. His strong arms encircled her waist and she offered no resistance as he drew her to him, the contact of his body causing a flush of pleasurable butterflies. She tilted her head back and gave her lips to him willingly. The kiss was soft and brief, but thick with promise.

"Well, we know what that was, don't we," he said, gliding his fingers slowly along the curve of her hip as he stepped away.

Beth curled a lock of long dark hair coquettishly around one finger, her lips still tingling with the echoes of his kiss. "Oh? Do tell." There was a momentary pang of loss as the lingering contact was finally broken, and when He paused in the doorway to stare back at her with a cold hard expression, a sudden wave of concern flooded through her body.

"For my money of course," he said waggling his eyebrows playfully.

"You bloody cheeky sod!" She laughed, grabbed the folded newspaper from the table and hurled it at him. He caught it with a deft swipe, threw her a big shit-eating grin and dashed out of the room.

"Love you dear." His laughing voice sang out from down the hallway. "See you later."

"You better bloody love me Dean Parker," she called as the front door slammed.

The resulting peace and quiet only lasted a few seconds though, as thumping footsteps on the stairs signalled the start of round two of Beth's weekday routine.

"I can't find my jacket mum."

"It's on the sofa Nicky, where you left it. I am your mother remember, not your slave. You dropped it there yesterday, so it is still there, despite me asking you twice last night to hang it up."

A moment later, her daughter, now wearing the jacket, rushed into the kitchen; she poured a glass of milk and began hastily gulping it down.

"Come on love, have a proper breakfast."

"No time mum. Gotta go, meeting Sally and Bel in five."

"At least take a piece of fruit with you."

"Mum, I'm fine."

"You're an active young woman; you need to eat properly," Beth said.

Nicky was actually in good shape. Slender and Toned, thanks largely to her passion for swimming, and at eighteen already had a figure that most women would be jealous of. Not that Beth had anything to be ashamed of in that regard either, for a woman of her age.

Beth hated that manner of speech, but recently she had caught herself using similar qualifiers when considering her own appearance. "I have great hair considering my age", "My legs are still toned for someone nearing forty.", "My boobs are still firm and bouncy for a woman of my years." She was still only 38 for Christ's sake.

All said and done though, there were very few things about her body that niggled her. Sure, her curves were a bit curvier these days, but there had been no complaints from Dean, and there better not be, if he still wanted to get his hands on them.

"Here, you can eat this on the way," Beth said, forcing a cereal bar into her daughter's jacket pocket.

"Oh mum." Nicky rolled her eyes, "Gotta go." She turned and walked out of the kitchen.

"Hey, where's my kiss?"

Nicky jogged back displaying an expression of frustration, but still flashed Beth a warm smile as she leaned forward and kissed her.

"Love you."

"Love you too honey. Have a good day, and don't forget swimming practice tonight. I'll pick you up outside the pool at 7."

"OK mum, I won't forget," Nicky said with a somewhat weary tone as she disappeared into the hallway.

As the front door slammed for the second time that day, Beth paused for a few seconds enjoying the peace and quiet. She glanced through the back window, smiling contentedly as she cleared away the last of the breakfast things. The morning sun was just beginning to creep up the garden, evaporating the twinkling dew off the lawn; somewhere in the distance a buzzing sound heralded a keen gardener, probably grass mowing, hedge clipping or leaf blowing; a few birds were lifting their voices, chirping and tweeting in the apple tree; her husband and daughter were happy, healthy and out the door; and she was meeting the girls for coffee this morning. She was in a good mood.

... ... ...

"So, any suggestions for who he's banging on the side?"

Beth and the four other women seated around the table in the Langley Studio Tea Room, turned as one to look at Lucy, the curvy thirty something blonde that had posed the question.

"Oh come on, as if none of you were thinking the same thing. Derek is obviously having an affair, and the only one who can't see it is dawn, the poor cow."

Beth cut into her croissant and reached for the butter dish. "Well despite your utter lack of compassion Lucy, I fear you might be right. According to Dawn, Derek has been turning in more than his fair share of late nights at the office recently, and seems to be unusually attentive at home, buying flowers and gifts for her." She finished buttering and bit into the pastry.

"Well I'd go for a bit of attention like that," said an immaculately turned out brunette, sitting to Beth's left.

"Sally, it's not the attention that's the problem," said Lucy. "It's the fact that it's out of character. They've been married for seven years, and he just starts buying her flowers and gifts now?"

"All Very suspicious if you ask me," said Gwen, a tall redhead sitting opposite Beth.

"I think it's got to be his Barbie doll secretary," another woman commented. "Have you seen the fake boobs on her? They put Gwen's to shame."

"Oi Carla, These puppies are real," Gwen said, grasping her large breasts and wobbling them for emphasis.

"Can I er... get you ladies er... anything else?" a young man stammered, as he tried and failed miserably to avoid staring at Gwen's impressive breasts as she shamelessly bounced them up and down.

"Cappuccino please," Lucy said.

"Me too please," said Sophia, the only woman at the table so far not to have offered an opinion about Derek's extra marital behaviour.

Beth rolled her eyes as the young waiter failed entirely to register either of the requests.

"Two cappuccinos Billy and stop gawping at the customers," came a stern voice from behind the young man.

The busted waiter jolted free from his trance and spun round. "Er yes Mrs. Livingstone, I was just--"

"Thank you Billy that will be all," the woman interjected softening her tone, and the boy scurried quickly away. "And Gwen, please stop wobbling your tits at my staff, otherwise I will be forced to make them the subject of a health and safety risk assessment."

Sally snorted into her coffee cup, and reached for a tissue.

"Hi Sheila," Beth said smiling, "How's tricks?"

"Oh you know, somewhere between shit-show and cluster-fuck. They still haven't found anyone to keep this place open, so this will probably be your last visit here; I reckon we will shut by Friday." This proclamation caused frowns and sympathetic noises from the women at the table, even though the imminent closure of the tearoom had been on the cards for quite some time.

"Sorry to hear that Sheila," Beth said.

Carla turned to her. "Isn't Dean's company buying it?"

Beth winced inwardly at the implication. It was true that ownership of the Langley studios estate was passing over to the company that Dean worked for, but it wasn't as if they had actually wanted it, or gone out of their way to acquire it. She didn't fully understand the details, or even exactly why the estate was closing, but every time it came up in conversation with the girls, it made her feel a little guilty, as if somehow she could do something about it.

"It's got something to do with the studio being in debt I think; I'm not really sure. It's not Dean's department, so I barely know any more than you do."

"So what are you going to do?" Gwen asked Sheila.

"I'm moving down to Cornwall to live with my sister. I've been thinking about it for a few years, so this seems like the perfect opportunity. Gayle needs quite a bit of care these days, and I've been feeling guilty about how little I help."

The waiter returned with the coffees, and deposited them in front of Sophia and Lucy while keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the tablecloth. He shuffled uncomfortably as he hurriedly marked the additions onto the bill.

"Anyway, I am sure it's for the best," Sheila continued, snatching the bill from the man's hand and shooing him away. "It's a good time for me to move on." She looked sad for a brief moment, and Beth suspected that Sheila didn't really believe it was for the best at all. "Right, things to do," the matronly woman said and casually ripped up the bill. "We'll forget about this; you ladies have been regulars here for years, this one's on the house."

"Sheila that's lovely; thank you," Beth said.

"Yeah cheers Sheila, and good luck down in Cornwall," said Gwen, raising her cup in salute.

Sheila smiled, nodded and walked briskly away.

"Aww poor thing, she looks miserable," said Lucy, lowering her voice and leaning across the table.

"I wish Charlie and I could afford to make an offer on this place," Gwen said." I would love to get my teeth into a project like this, and Charlie is dying to get his own restaurant."

"How long has he been head chef at Valentino's now?" Sophia asked.

"Almost five years, but it's so hard trying to save. We'll never have enough to get our own place."

"So, where shall we meet next week?" Carla asked, obviously keen to lighten the mood.

"No idea," said Lucy, as she pulled out a makeup compact from her bag and began checking her face in the small mirror.

"We can meet at my place if you like."

"Thanks Beth, that's very generous," said Sophia, smiling warmly.

Gwen turned suddenly to Carla. "How do you know about Derek's secretary?"

"I was at his office last week and caught a glimpse of her."

Beth narrowed her eyes at Carla. "Maybe you are the one banging Derek on the side."

Sally giggled, and Gwen barked a loud laugh before covering her mouth.

Carla took the teasing in her stride, poking her tongue out at Beth. "I need a new accountant, and thought I might try out his firm," she said in a manner that seemed all too casual.

"I know what firm bit of him you want to try out," Gwen shot back with a wink.

Lucy's eyes widened in sudden realisation, and she pointed an accusatory finger at Carla. "You were spying on him for Dawn!"

"No no," Carla said. "Well maybe a little yes, but only to satisfy my own curiosity. Dawn had nothing to do with it."

"You devious bitch," Gwen said with a sly smile.

"It's a good job I am, because after seeing how that bimbo fawns around him, and the way Derek can't keep his eyes off her tits for more than 5 seconds, I'm convinced it's her."

"Affairs and spying, it's all very exciting, isn't it? I could do with a bit of excitement," Sally said wistfully.

"Steve not blowing your mind in the bedroom anymore?" Lucy asked, bobbing one eyebrow playfully.

"It's fine. I mean it's ok I guess. Sometimes I just wish it was more like when we first met; we couldn't keep our hands off each other back then."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," said Lucy. The other women all stared back, waiting for her to elaborate. "Things are good with Seb, but it's the same thing. It's just getting a bit stale. I mean, I know he has it in him to be passionate and all that. Damn, I do too, but you know how it is, kids, work, and all that."

Beth found herself nodding in agreement as several of the women made sympathetic noises. "It's ironic really," she said, "I just got a commission to write an article about spicing up your love life."

"I didn't know you were an expert," said Carla.

"I'm not, but I don't see it being a ground-breaking article. I'll probably just recycle the old favourites; you know how it is. Some of it, like roleplay and fetish stuff, I don't really have a clue about, but I'm sure I can research it, or make something up."

"Ooh I could do with a bit of roleplay," Sally said sighing. "Slipping on a uniform and acting like strangers."

"Dressing up sounds so much fun," Sophia said enthusiastically. Beth was startled to hear the pretty woman speak. So often at these gatherings she said very little, but was always pleasant, polite, and seemed to enjoy herself. This was an unusual subject to pitch in on though.

"Right, I better make a move," Gwen said suddenly and stood up.

"Me too. Thanks ladies, it's been fun as always," said Lucy.

"Yep me too," said Beth, rising to her feet, "this article won't write itself."

... ... ...

A little over an hour later, Beth was in the study working at the computer, a half-drunk cup of coffee slowly cooling on the oak desk. She stared at the screen and re-read the unfinished article for lascivious magazine entitled 'Kinks under the covers -- tips for keeping the fun in your relationship'. It was a trashy throw away piece, and whilst it wasn't the kind of thing she normally wrote, the money was OK, and if the end piece was good enough, it might lead to bigger and better things.

She had been truthful with the girls; she was not an expert on the subject of kinky sex by any means. She was a talented writer however, so her lack of knowledge was just another creative challenge. It was not as if her sex-life was bad, far from it. She and Dean had a very healthy sexual relationship, but it had always been generally straight forward, strictly no kinks. It wasn't that kinks, or even a lack of kinks was necessarily a problem; kinks had just never come up.

Cobbling together a 500-word article based on existing knowledge and a bit of internet research was not a problem though. These pieces were more about collecting information together and presenting it in a readable and eye catching way, rather than producing original ground breaking content. At the end of the day, what was left to be said about spicing up your love life that hadn't already been said a thousand times before.

Positions, sensual massage, creating ambience, places, dirty talk, toys, watching adult movies and sharing fantasies; they were all in the article already. That just left roleplay and dressing up to cover. These areas were proving trickier as she lacked any real personal experience to draw on. They had never done anything like that, not that she would mind. The idea of slipping on a sexy outfit seemed quite naughty and exciting. It might depend on the individual scenario as to how confident she would be at actually immersing herself in a role, but when it came to dressing up, a glance at the obscene amount of clothes in her wardrobe clearly revealed her love of dressing to impress.

The simple fact was, Dean had never asked her to dress up or indulge in any make believe in the bedroom, and she had always taken her cue from him when it came to their sex life. He was strong, confident, and certainly didn't have a problem expressing his arousal or passion for her. Most of the time he was the one to orchestrate the position and nature of their lovemaking, and that was fine. It was enjoyable to relinquish control over to him during sex, and on more than one occasion, she had found herself hoping that he would push his dominance further, to see where it would take them. She would probably do whatever he wanted, if only he told her what it was he actually wanted.

Some quick internet research had turned up a whole host of roleplay and dressing up options that could be included in the article. Nurse, waitress, maid, slutty secretary, school uniform, the list was quite exhaustive. The nurse was less than appealing to her; it just sounded too clinical and icky. Maid had possibilities for sure. Tottering around in dangerously high heels whilst wearing a tight black uniform, feather duster in hand, bending and stretching to emphasise the curves of her figure; that would work. Would Dean like that? Why was she even contemplating that question? Was she actually considering doing something like this?

School uniform, now that was a possibility. She smiled fondly at the memory of how carefree and fun her final year had been in Heathfield college had been; gossiping with the girls, flirting with the boys, free from the stresses and worries that would come later in the big wide world. She had totally rocked the uniform too, despite the very best attempts of the college to design it in such a way that it displayed more than a passing resemblance to a potato sack. She had taken in and shortened the shapeless skirt, making it cling to her curvy backside and reveal a bit more leg, and swapped the regulation blouse for one that had a much more flattering cut around the bust and waist. After that, her fellow students would double take as she passed by in the halls, and it had been so much fun to tease them with a flash of thigh or a glimpse of cleavage whenever possible. A familiar warm fluttering sensation began to build in her tummy. Yes, that was definitely a role she could get behind.

She glanced back to the screen. Perhaps injecting some personal experience into the article would make it more interesting, and maybe attract attention from those with the power to grant future commissions. All she needed to do now was actually have some experiences she could draw on. Interesting scenarios and Exciting possibilities began to fill her head, bringing on a renewed enthusiasm to improve the article. Coffee now cold and forgotten, she left the study and made her way upstairs.

Throwing open the wardrobe doors, she cast her eyes over the many pieces of clothing that hung on the rail. Was there something in here that resembled her old uniform? She flicked through a few items until one caught her attention. Here was a plain white blouse that would do the job, although it would probably be a bit tight. She hadn't worn it for many years, not since her early thirties when she was still skinny. If nothing else, her boobs had swollen at least one cup size in the interceding years. She held the sleeveless white collared blouse at arm's length examining it and then smiled a devilish grin. Actually, the tighter the blouse was, the better the overall effect might be, assuming she could still button it up at all.