Author's introduction: You've heard of California Dreamin' I presume? This is nothing like that! I have been chatting here with a very special husband and wife who share a similar lifestyle to that which Richard and I live. As a result of a series of emails between us, the germ of a story began to sprout in my head. I asked permission to write it, and they agreed with certain reservations. So, they are American, but they don't live in Pennsylvania. The wife (G) isn't a lesbian, but she is bi-curious. The husband (D) is submissive, but I've had permission to portray him as a pain slut. All names (Richard and mine excepted) have been changed to protect the innoc... um... no-one in this story is innocent!
I am obliged to say that this story is totally fictitious, (the four main characters excepted) and that all the sex described takes place consensually between adults aged eighteen and over. In my own mind, this story is in no way connected to my other story, 'Promises Were Made', but this is set in the same sort of time period: that is, very early in my married life. I suppose that this story could conceivably have happened not long after the conclusion of 'Promises Were Made.' I'll leave it up to my loyal readers to decide. My grateful thanks to my two lovely American correspondents (you know who you are!) and also to my loyal band of followers, who are always so constructive in their comments and generous in their scoring of my stories. Enjoy this fantasy tale, and don't forget to score and comment.
Pennsylvania was a world away from my home town in deepest, Welsh speaking west Wales, and yet, here I was, living in the residential district of Penn Wynne in Wynnewood. How was I here? Let me explain.
Many years ago, a decision was made to twin my home town with Wynnewood in Pennsylvania. It was chosen because amongst the early pilgrims who crossed the Atlantic from the United Kingdom, a sizeable number left from Wales, and settled in what would become Pennsylvania. During the period in which this tale is set, the two councils, one in Wales, one in the USA, decided to do a teacher exchange and my school, and Penn Wynne Elementary school were chosen. I was to teach for a term in America, whilst my American colleague travelled in the opposite direction, to teach at my Primary school.
My husband (who is also my cuckold) was in the process of setting up his own civil engineering firm, so he was not able to accompany me. What seemed like an insurmountable problem (Richard is kept in permanent chastity, and has to be milked weekly) was soon overcome when my best friend, and fellow Hot Wife, Cindy, offered to 'look after' Richard's needs whilst I was away. With that problem solved, I kissed Richard goodbye, and left for my twelve week sabbatical in the U S of A.
The world famous American hospitality was in evidence as soon as I emerged from the immigration queue at the airport. A delegation of staff, school governors, parents and the town council were assembled in the arrivals hall. A woman extended her hand and we shook.
"Welcome to Pennsylvania," she said. "I'm Sue-Ellen Anderson, the Principal of Penn Wynn Elementary School. Thank you so much for agreeing to take part in this exchange. I've told the children all about you, and they're so looking forward to meeting you on Monday!"
I made a mental note that Mrs. Anderson should be addressed as 'The Principal', not, as back home, the Head Teacher. From the moment I arrived, I was enchanted by my hosts' wonderfully exotic accents, and they seemed equally charmed by my accent too.
After a quick visit to the Town Hall, where I was officially welcomed again, I was driven by Mrs. Anderson to the house where I would be living during my stay. By the time we got there, I was feeling wiped out, so after helping me inside with my suitcase, Sue-Ellen (she'd sternly told me that 'Mrs. Anderson' was fine for school, but outside of that environment, it made her feel old) advised me to get some sleep to try to get over my jet lag. She promised to 'come by' on Monday morning to drive me to school. I waved her goodbye from the front door, and gratefully took her advice.
When I eventually awoke, I scrabbled around trying to open my sleep-gummed eyes whilst peering at my wrist watch. It was almost six o' clock in the evening, and I'd been asleep for about nine hours. My throat felt like the Gobi desert, so I slid off my bed and stood up. My body felt heavy and listless, despite the sleep I'd had. Barefoot, I padded my way into the kitchen. The rucksack that I'd carried onto the plane lay where I'd slipped it off my back when I entered the house. I rummaged around in it and came up with my lady church warden pipe and my tobacco pouch. I stuffed the dainty bowl full of my favourite aromatic tobacco and popped the pipe stem into my mouth. I rummaged around in my back pack and found my lighter. Now all I needed was a bottle of water to quench my thirst.
I found the fridge easily enough. I couldn't exactly miss it! It was about the size of a walk-in wardrobe, and when I opened it, I found to my delight that it contained enough food and drink to ensure that I probably wouldn't need to go shopping until it was almost time for me to go home!
I grabbed a bottle of sparkling water and as I opened it, I realised that I was extremely hot. That doesn't mean that I was looking incredibly attractive and seductive! It means that my body temperature was much higher than normal! I remembered that there had been a swing seat on the front porch of the house, so I went outside to cool down, smoke my pipe and drink my water.
I opened the front door and emitted a yelp of shock. Standing there, her arm raised as she was about to knock my front door, was a middle-aged lady in a vivid red wrap around top above a stylish blue denim skirt. Her hair had been brushed back away from her pretty face, and her red lipstick, (which I immediately wanted to smudge and smear with my own lips!) had been skilfully and artistically applied. A few feet behind her stood a well built man, sporting a neatly trimmed goatee beard. He seemed to be content to let the woman do all the talking. His quiet, polite demeanour reminded me a lot of Richard.
I got over my shock quickly and apologised for my yelp.
"It's us who should apologise, my dear," replied the lady, whose voice seemed like liquid honey washing all over me. I actually felt my nipples harden, and I hoped they weren't doing pokies through my blouse!
"Welcome to our neighbourhood," my visitor continued. "I'm Gee, and I live opposite you, over there." She half turned to point to an identical house which stood across the street. In doing so, she seemed to notice the man behind her, who still hadn't spoken a word.
"Oh, this is my husband," she said carelessly. "He was baptised David, but folks round here know him as Dee."
"Hello, um.. Gee and Dee," I managed to splutter. "I'm Olwen. I've only just woken up after my flight here from Wales. I'm going to be teaching here for a term."
"Yes, I know," replied Gee with a smile that caused my clit to stir. She was so hot (in the attractive and seductive sense!) and I wondered if there was any chance that I'd get to fuck her during my stay here.Gee was talking again, but I'd missed what she said because my concentration was centered on her lovely tits.
"I'm awfully sorry," I said, giving myself a mental shake. "I missed that last bit. You were saying?"
Gee smiled again. "You have such a beautiful accent," she said. "I was saying that I know you are going to teach at P.W.E. Both Dee and I have classes there once a week. I teach piano and Dee is a vocal coach. He gives singing lessons."
"Oh that's marvellous," I replied. "Back home, I play the piano too. I'm the deputy accompanist for our local male voice choir."
I clapped my hand to my mouth in horror.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I apologised again. "Where are my manners? Please come in. Would you like a cup of tea? Or coffee? Do Americans drink tea?"
I realised that I was jabbering non-stop. I put it down to jet lag and the distraction of Gee's gorgeous tits.
"Yes, we do drink tea," Gee laughed, "but we won't disturb you further today. You're obviously jet lagged, and we are on our way to church anyway. I'm the organist at our local church, and I was going to get some practice in for tomorrow's service. We just stopped by to welcome you."
"That's very sweet of you," I smiled. "I hope we can be friends whilst I'm here."
