The rain drizzled down, swept at a sharp angle to the ground by the strong breeze coming in off the sea. Had the breeze whistled in from other directions the odds are it would have still come from the sea; this was almost the very tip of the Cornish peninsula. The name of the last place of consequence on the road sign said it all – Lands End.
"What do people do around here nowadays?" reflected the city man Tom as he drove along glancing at yet another derelict tin mine.
In the coves and harbours the men went out on the perilous seas in their fishing boats, while inland, farmers eked out a living on the land. Days gone by, many would have made their living smuggling, as the strip of land was but a few miles wide, and the narrow lanes and the ups and downs of the countryside offered an ideal environment for things secret.
Now there were others who had quite different reasons to maintain secrecy and confidentiality and the secluded cottages provided the ideal place.
Typical of such people were Tom and Deirdre from the big city of London who came down here, sometimes with guests, to hold special weekends, with extra curricular activities, that appealed to many of their city friends who cared to indulge in more avant-garde or unusual activities of which sex was a major feature.
The hired saloon turned into a small driveway almost hidden by trees and hawthorn then pulled up outside a cottage whose rendered walls were covered in wisteria and honeysuckle. The city couple muttered and fussed as they took their bags and opened the creaky door. Deirdre looked around the yard from the shelter of the doorway but with this fine rain came mist making the day seem like October rather than July.
The young man John was quite familiar with his surrounding being Cornwall born and bred but he was nervous here - for a good reason.
"Come on in JC. Why do you seem wetter than we are?" asked Deirdre
The boy smiled inwardly thinking she ought to have noticed earlier, considering the antics of the last hour.
"I stood in the rain looking out for your car in Truro," he answered.
"Tom will light the gas fire. Take your clothes off John."
"I'm not that wet!" he insisted in a loud voice.
He protested but knew very well why he was here and why he had not been taken home.
"Take off your clothes!" the woman repeated.
Tom sat by the hearth fiddling with the old gas fire, trying to light the burner.
"We'd like to take some photographs of you old chap. Y'know, arty ones – not the sort you'd come across in 'The Tatler' or 'London Life' of course. Noticed what a fine physique you have – reminiscent of the ancient Greek chaps – the gods and all that – you know, Adonis."
Deirdre smiled, "Don't worry JC, no one you know is ever going to see them. It's a hobby of mine – taking pictures."
John had come this far – and had rather enjoyed himself up to now. He was apprehensive about his task ahead – 'Fuck me while my husband watches' Dee had said. He could call her Dee rather than Deirdre; he was a friend now. So why not oblige her. John stripped off as Dee unpacked a very expensive camera.
The woman stood before him making adjustments for the light.
"Stand up straight JC – you're slouching!"
John felt a bit silly but stood to attention placing his hand on the back of a chair, self-conscious of how his pelvis seemed to thrust forward. Tom watched too, admiring the boy's torso.
Dee posed him in a variety of ways, complimenting him on the tightness of his buttocks and the slimness of his waist.
" Place your right foot on the chair JC," Dee ordered. She seemed to focus on his penis.
"Lie down on the rug now"
A series of commands came thick and fast as she clicked away.
"Take hold of your penis."
This one came as a surprise. She looked hard at him sensing he had a problem.
"Play with it for me." she said.
"Look, I can't do what you are wanting me to do. I don't feel right about it."
"Not aroused you mean?" she said smiling wickedly. "Maybe I ought to stimulate you into action."
She lifted her skirt above her knee and raised her foot to place it on the arm of a chair turning her leg side on to the boy.
"Do you fantasise about seeing up the skirts of ladies – seeing their stocking tops – wondering how it feels to stroke your hand over that smooth nylon or silk – until you reach that dark band beyond which is the white naked skin of her inner thigh?"
Dee bunched up her clothing to reveal her own stocking tops. Removing her foot from the chair she moved toward John and straddled him. Now she seemed to forget her camera work and handing the devise to Tom she slowly lifted her skirt, gradually bending her knees to sink down on the boy. John stared up between her legs as her crotch sank down, closer and closer to his face.
"Kiss me JC!" she whispered.
Shocked he let his eyes dart around wondering just where she wanted him to kiss, quickly settling on the white bare flesh of her thighs. He felt the silky smoothness of her stockings and saw how tightly the clips of her suspenders held fast the reinforced tops. Suddenly, though gently her hips swayed, and lower and lower her torso sank upon him until her crotch covered his face almost making contact with his mouth.
"Lick me JC!"
He extended his tongue and felt the furrow her cunt slit and arse crack made along the gusset of her knickers. To and fro her hips moved then carefully she pulled aside her underwear causing his tongue to lick her anus then her wet vagina. Launching her body upward she stood legs parted and checked behind, smiling at the sight of John's now erect penis. Without spoiling the lad's view she peeled her knickers seductively down her legs raising one foot at a time, kicking off her pants. Now John gazed up at the full naked glory of her puffed up vulva, and her wet slit There was just enough light when she raised her skirt to enable him to see that little tight brown hole – it began to come down toward him.
"Put your tongue right inside JC," she instructed calmly.
