Just a word of warning. As with all my scribblings, this is not intended as a work of classic English literature. It's just me chatting to you about things that I feel you may like to hear. If this offends you, I suggest you try Jane Austen, Charles Dickens or Thomas Hardy.
I have absolutely no doubt that Dorset in Spring and Summer is the greatest place in the world. In Winter not so much so. Although we don't get really severe weather, the long grey days can be a little daunting. Having said this, those bleak days are what makes the Spring, Summer and Autumn so special. My favourite time is the period between St George's Day and St Wite's Day. The sense of renewal is everywhere.
At that time, Harry and I are able to make our first trips out and about. When we can, we visit out of the way carparks. I get my tits out and Harry gives them a work over. You probably recall, Harry is a master craftsman at squeezing, pulling and twisting my nipples until my drawers are soaking. Then he doesn't know if he's going to fuck me or simply wank himself off. This uncertainty only adds to the excitement, he believes.
Occasionally, we stumble across a man or a group of men hanging about in the hope of free sex. I usually let then take a turn fucking me. This doesn't happen on every trip. But like I say, that only adds to the excitement.
It's the ordinary that makes the unusual special.
That's why I take pleasure in the normal and everyday. The half empty midweek evenings in the pub are the things that give the Saturday Night lock-ins their magic. It's the rainy mid-winter nights that make the Summer days so fantastic.
-
"Do you fancy a shopping trip to Bristol?" Faith asked.
"Bristol? " I said.
"Yes, it's not the end of the world."
"I know but you can see it from there. I don't usually go that far north. What do they have in Bristol that they don't have in Bournemouth? I asked.
"Harvey Nichols for a start," replied Faith rather indignantly.
"They have a Harvey Nics? In that case, yes."
"Why don't we make it a two day event? I can book a nice hotel. I presume they have nice hotels." I added.
Faith gave me a frown of agreement.
I actually thought this was my idea. How wrong could I be?
-
Just lately, while Harry is off whacking his balls about, I have been visiting Ted at Yew Tree Farm.
Is my marriage in danger? No. But I have grown very fond of Ted.
He's getting on for seventy now but we always find things to talk about that we are both interested in. Like history and the world in general.
We both agree that if History and Geography teach us anything it is that we are fortunate to live in this place at this time.
Just in case you think it's some sort of highbrow discussion group, I always end up being strapped to the Hoss with Ted gently fucking me.
There's something comforting about it. Like an old sweater or a favourite pair of slippers.
The other day, Ted was panting a little while he undid the buckles. "Feeling your age are you Ted?" I said jokingly.
"Well I guess I am. I'm thinking of retiring," said Ted sadly.
I was shocked, "It still felt pretty stiff to me."
"From farming not fucking, you soft girl," he laughed.
I love it when he called me a girl.
"What, give up Yew Tree Farm. Your family has been here for hundreds of years," I said.
"That's just the point. If I wait until I drop down dead, hopefully while hanging onto your ass, it would go anyway."
"I could leave the farm to you or Vi but I don't think either of you would have any use for it," Ted continued.
"Are you going to sell it then?" I asked.
"No, not really. I've got a better idea."
"You know that Trev's girl, Jules, is expecting, don't you?" he said.
"Every woman in the village is talking about it. It's so exciting," I said.
"Well, I was thinking of giving the farm to them as a wedding present. Trev is a steady worker and Jules is quite clever. Regardless of whether they have a girl or boy, the farm would keep going for a generation or two," Ted said smiling.
"I've seen the scan and they are definitely having a boy. If hereditary comes into it, there's no doubt who the father is either," I chuckled.
"But where will you live?" I added.
"I own Rose Cottage in the village. It's been empty for a couple of years. I think I'll live there and do it up," he told me.
"What about money?"
"Don't you worry about that, I have more than enough," Ted said.
As an afterthought I enquired, trying to hide the panic in my voice, "And what will happen about the barn and the Hoss?"
Ted laughed, "Do not concern your pretty little head. I will make sure that your continued control of them is stipulated in the bequest."
-
I owe Bristol an apology. The City Centre and the Old City are lovely. I don't know about the rest of it. Like nearly every city in the world, it owes its very existence to the exploitation of human beings. You can't deny its history but you can't change it either. Today, it is a vibrant up and coming multicultural metropolis.
On a baser level, the shops are great too.
Faith managed to purchase all sorts of fancy undies to wear beneath her conservative Vicar's Wife clothes. I picked up a few things for myself.
We had a lovely meal at a great restaurant. Then Faith hit me with the real reason for our trip. I really should have guessed.
Glenda had told her about a 'health club' that she and Craig had visited. They have a sauna and steam room as well as a large jacuzzi. Faith had never been in a jacuzzi, or so she said. It was something she had always wanted to try.
The 'club' was above a Thai Massage Parlour and if anything it was even seedier than Glenda had described it. Faith thought that the fact that women and couples got in free was lucky. I wasn't so sure. The lady on the door informed us that, so far, it was a slow night; in fact we were among the first visitors.
I have never been self conscious about my body but I did try to hide at least some of me behind the tiny off-white towel that we were supplied with. Faith did the same. We headed towards the room marked JACUZZI. Fortunately, it was empty. I, for one, was quite relieved to slip below the bubbles.
The water was pleasantly warm. No matter where I sat on the ledge that circled the tub, at least one of the jets hit me from underneath. It didn't take me long to realise that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Faith sat alongside me and had independently come to the same realisation.
Occasionally, one of us would giggle as we found exactly the right angle to have our fanny sluiced out.
After about ten minutes we were joined by a couple of men who appeared to be in their fifties. They sat either side of us about a foot or so away. Nervously at first we both answered the questions that were put to us. You know the sort of thing, "Do you girls come here often? Are you both lesbians? If so, can we watch?"
We didn't ask them if they were gay as that would obviously be rude.
When two more slightly older blokes arrived, the first two moved closer towards us as if to reserve their spots. The one on my side had his thigh right against mine. I thought about budging close to Faith but I thought, "I've just got the jet where I want it."
I glanced at Faith and she looked as if she was standing her ground too. It was difficult to tell with all the bubbles but her right hand appeared to be stretched out to the side and was moving up and down in the water.
She wasn't wasting any time. So I reached to my left and located a moderately large erection which seemed to have its own jet of warm water bursting forth from underneath its testicles. Gripping the shaft midway up, I allowed my hand to be forced upwards by the rising water and then I pushed it down again. I let the bubbles do the same again and again. What a novel experience; semi automatic wanking.
