'Glastonbury Tor stands over 500ft and towers over the Somerset levels creating a special almost mystical place for its many visitors.' Ellen continued to read from the guide she had bought in the hippie shop in the village at its base. 'The tower at the top is a listed building..'
'You mean it's falling over?' I joked.
Ellen frowned, flipped me the bird and continued '...and was built in the 14th century.'
'It doesn't look finished yet' I muttered. My lack of enthusiasm for all things historic, mystical, archaeological and touristic was partly having spent the previous day in the company of the in laws - always a joy - and partly due to having spent several hours being dragged round various tourist trap shops in Glastonbury village.
Hand carved jewellery, home spun capes, knitted smocks - you name it we'd looked at them. At least Ellen had looked whilst I was trying to stave off death by boredom. My only laugh had been asking a shop assistant if the wind chimes were gluten free. That had got me a baffled look from the assistant and a ding round the ear hole from Ellen.
'Shall we take a look at the Tor then?' I asked, the prospect of climbing a 500ft hill being better than more shopping.
'Ooh yes' Ellen enthused and off we set.
As we climbed the hill Ellen's enthusiasm abated whilst mine actually rose. I'd been brought up in the Pennines, a range of hills in the north of England, and being able to see for a distance over the landscape brought back fond memories. The lack of Pennine rain improved my mood as well and as we neared the top the sun was at full strength and there wasn't a cloud in the sky.
Ellen clearly wasn't as adept at hill walking as I was and she was perspiring freely when we got to the top. Her floaty summer dress was clinging to her and the curves of her body were improving my mood immensely.
The tower at the top was eerie with bare stone walls and no roof, the only item being a wide stone in the centre of the floor with iron rings set in to it and an inscription carved into it. I couldn't make out the letters but pretended to Ellen that I could.
'Here ye lay down the purest of spirit for to bring the bumper harvest and fertility to all parts.' I proclaimed in a terrible Worzels style West Country accent. A couple of lads nearby laughed and Ellen giggled.
'By purest of spirit do they mean vodka?' she asked with a cheeky smile.
'They might as well do. Can't see them finding many virgins round here nowadays' I replied.
'Hey I was brought up 15 miles from here.' Ellen chided me.
'And your point is?' I asked with my eyebrows theatrically raised. The lads laughed again and Ellen playfully went to take a swing at me.
'Git' she laughed and wandered out back into the sun.
The view from the Tor is fabulous, if Somerset is to your liking. Not quite the Serengeti by moonlight but easily one of the best viewpoints in England. The Tor is covered in lush grass and is sculpted in a series of banks and terraces. A path leads from the access gate straight up the spine of the hill and most visitors enter and leave by the direct route.
We strolled around the top of the Tor and found that the first terrace down the north side was nicely sheltered from the slight breeze. I suggested a rest before we headed back down and Ellen agreed slumping to the grass.
'Oh, my feet are sore.' she moaned and I realised she was wearing sandals not really suited for hill climbing.
'Want me to rub them for you?' I offered and Ellen nodded and lay back on the slope. I knelt on the grass by her feet and undid the straps of her sandals. Red lines criss-crossed her feet where the straps had cut in and they did look sore. I gently rubbed her right foot and soon the inflammation was receding.
To reach her left foot I had to stretch Ellen's leg up and across and in doing so her skirt slipped up her thighs. Ellen's legs were lovely to behold, nice and slim, and I knew they were soft to the touch. As I soothed her foot I sort of accidentally moved her leg in such a way as to make her skirt rise further. Soon her white panties were in view and my cock started to stir.
'Mmm, that's nice' Ellen purred and I noticed her eyes were closed. Her dress was still following her body contours in alluring shapes and my cock got harder. As Mr Small Brain was doing all the thinking I slid my hands up to caress her calves and then her knees. A contended sigh was Ellen's only reaction and I moved I continued to run my fingers around her knees and up the outside of her thighs.
I kept caressing upwards until my fingers slid under her skirt and reached her panties. Ellen's eyes were still closed but there was now a smile on her face. I gently tugged at her panties and the only reaction Ellen gave was to raise her hips slightly and this meant her panties came free and I started to edge them down her legs.
'What if someone comes.' Ellen whispered as I pulled her panties off past her feet.
'Oh someone will come,' I replied 'and that someone is going to be you.'