Tales from Lady's Bottom
Lady's Bottom is a small village located on the Weald laying across the Kent/Sussex border. Although almost feudal the villagers are happy with the village and their way of life. As an occupant I thought I would gather tales of our village and its occupants so that we can share their pleasures with others.
The village has little that is different from many other villages across England; a green, a pub called The Vixen, Dorothy's for fine dining, a teashop, dress shop, garage, school and a railway station. The railway station is perhaps unusual, but its service into central London is very useful and as it is the end of the line a seat can always be found. On the outside of the village stands the Manor house of the local hereditary baronet, Sir James Smythe-Howard; or should I say, Lady Sarah for Sir James lives about six miles away in his hunting lodge.
Jane's Arrival in the Village
Jane had moved into the village just after Christmas when she took over the small cottage that had been left to her by her Aunt who had lived all her life in the village. Jane had come to visit her aunt on a number of occasions over the years during which time she had learnt to love the village and her Aunt's close friends.
I had found the last months a little quite but I had kept myself busy clearing my Aunt's belongings and rearranging the furniture to suit me. The journey up to London and work from our local station was a great improvement. I felt safer down in the country and took to wearing skirts and dresses every day for my increased feminine style seemed to suite the village.
As I had gone through my Aunt's belonging I noted that she had large selection of very good lingerie as well as the very fine chiffon dresses; luckily for me we had the same figure! Auntie had certainly enjoyed presenting to the world a lovely picture of womanhood. Her friends were also of the same manner; one could never image that my Aunt or her friends would be seen out except dressed well, powdered and lipstick in place. The funeral had been quiet just her friends in attendance, except for one slim woman wearing a very good suit. A suit that was obviously handmade and came with trousers, she was the only pair of trousers in the Church. I had at that time no knowledge of her, but later I learnt her position in the village. All my Aunt's friends had dressed in black, but adopted a "merry widow", may be even saucy style. On leaving the cottage now mine they all hugged me tightly around the waist and kissed me full on the mouth, I felt quite warm when they had left.
The other interesting fact of my Aunt's possessions was that not only did she possess a selection of dildos but also a couple of strapons that each had a means of satisfying both the receiver and the giver. I wondered who my Aunt had satisfied or had she been on the receiving end. I did not know then but I could not resist trying the dildos and thrusting the strapons into me as I lay in my Aunt's old bedroom.
Answers and understanding of my Aunt came the following Whit Monday when the village put on it's Annual Parade. This parade was a show off event for every organisation in the village, the school, girl guides, fire brigade, even the maids from The Vixen public house.
But for me, the end or the beginning was a pair of rough hands. As I stood at the side of the road and the parade floats came by a pair of legs in overalls spread apart and between them a pair of hands, rough hands.
These hands held me, I wanted them, I need them to hold my tits, to squeeze my nipples; I wanted them to roughly rub against my clit; I wanted them thrust into pussy.
My nipples stood up, my clit stood proud, my pussy dripped cum juice that trickled down my legs. I could do nothing except follow the float. Luckily the end of the parade was on The Green not 200 yards away.
I walked towards to the float looking at the hands that held me like a magnetic.
I could think of nothing, unable to speak, only able to dream of those hands on my body. I came close and was addressed.
"Hello, my dear. You're new to the village?"
"Yes, no, I've been here 6 months",
I said, weakly, still looking only at the hands.
"Ah, yes. You're Jane of Flower Cottage, taking over from your Aunt. Lovely lady, she was. Plenty of go that one!"
"So where have you been this last six months? Nowhere in the village, so I hear"!
"I have no friends here as yet",
I said.
"Did you not know your Aunt's old friends"?
"Yes, but I was unsure how to approach them. I know them but I am not sure of their interests"
"Ah, well I can tell you their interests".
"I am free now for next 1 hour, whilst the judging is going on. Would you like to go somewhere and talk about this village"?
"Yes, but where"?
"Do you still have that flowery alcove in your garden"?
"Yes", I said nervously. My clit throbbed, I felt so weak I almost fainted!
We walked over to the cottage and as the gate was pushed over I wavered and was immediately held.
