Little 'bridgefords'

Some time ago, I published three collections of stories set in an English village called Bridgeford. Rather than republish the collections, I thought I'd choose the scenes I really liked. I hope you agree.

Cinnamon Frampton eased herself out of bed, moving quietly so as not to wake her still-sleeping husband. It was lambing season and Nigel Frampton, Bridgeford's veterinary surgeon, had been out the night before attending a difficult birth. When he eventually slipped into bed, freshly showered, Cinnamon expected him to fall asleep exhausted but, to her surprise, he didn't. His mouth met hers in a passionate kiss, taking advantage of Cinnamon instinctively opening her legs to reach down and lube the swollen tip of his cock with the cream oozing from her cunt, positioning it against the opening of her asshole. Both he and Cinnamon let out deep groans of delight when Nigel slowly slid his cock up to his balls in her rectum.

Long ecstatic minutes of mutually pleasurable sodomy later, Nigel dragged his cock from Cinnamon's asshole and clambered up her body, feeding his ejaculating prick into her mouth and pouring gushes of thick sperm down her throat. Cinnamon suckled greedily, loving the taste of her ass on her husband's delicious pole, swallowing time after time until Nigel's balls were drained. Her loving husband managed to sigh, "Thanks babe, I needed that," and then slumped by her side, fast asleep.

When she woke, Cinnamon still had the salty taste of the semen she had swallowed in the back of her throat. She reached for her silk robe hanging on the back of the door, slipped it on and padded downstairs to the kitchen where Rex, the German Shepherd who belonged to Nigel's mother Deirdrah Maloney, who lived next door and was currently on holiday in Spain, climbed out of his basket, his tail wagging and his tongue lolling in happy greeting. Cinnamon bent to give him a scratch behind his ears, suddenly aware of the stickiness of her pussylips and the trickle of sperm oozing from her anus, her bottom barely covered by the soft material of the robe.

For a moment Cinnamon debated whether to slip back to bed and wake her husband by sucking his cock to hardness but decided to stick to her resolve that it was

time-to-do-something

about her ever-expanding plump and curvy butt and the slowly-appearing tummy fold which she could not allow to get any bigger. She had never been fat in her life and she was not about to let it happen now.

That meant the dreaded jogging three times a week and Cinnamon walked across to the utility room where she kept her sweatpants, t-shirt and trainers, bending over to hunt in the clothes dryer for a clean pair of sports socks. She dressed quickly and led the way out the back door to head for the nearby common, Rex following her happily. Cinnamon was fully aware she could think of any number of better ways to burn calories than messing about making a fool of herself with her tits jiggling and bouncing, with them jiggling and bouncing as she sat astride Nigel's flagpole of a cock top of the list...

*

Because of her extremely large breasts, Cinnamon had to wear a sports bra when she jogged but she hated to, preferring to leave her huge boobs as nature intended despite the fear they might lose their shape later in life. As far as Cinnamon was concerned that was what surgery was for and she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

Her feet quickly gained a natural rhythm as she jogged across the village green towards the gate that led to the big fields bordering the village, many of which had public footpaths round the perimeter. Rex followed her, stopping every now and then to sniff the base of a tree and mark it with a squirt of pee, and then rushing after her to bark happily.

As she passed other joggers and the occasional dog-walker, Cinnamon noticed they gave her admiring glances and she suddenly realized more or less everything she had was on display under her leggings. The material was stretched taut across her mons and gave her a pronounced cameltoe, undoubtedly brightening the morning of everyone who encountered her. Oh well, she thought, at least her darling hubby would enjoy peeling them off and burying his face between the cheeks of her ass when she got home. Nigel loved nothing so much as giving her asshole a thorough licking when she was hot and sweaty from her morning jog.

It was that thought which motivated Cinnamon to keep going for the forty-five minutes she had set herself for exercise and she was hugely relieved when she reached home, waited while Rex followed her through the gate, and opened the back door. She gave Rex a bowl of water and then padded upstairs, hoping to find Nigel, and his gorgeous erection, still fast asleep.

But he wasn't. Cinnamon heard the shower running and grinned to herself. If her leggings were see-through before they would be even more so when she joined her darling hubby, still wearing them, under the spray. The thought of him pulling the material down and licking her to a delirious orgasm made her shiver with desire.

At least that was the plan but when she opened the door of the bathroom she was surprised to see Nigel was not alone. A naked and very wet teenage girl was standing with her hands outstretched to brace herself, her pert little bottom stuck out behind her which was where Nigel was standing, his hands on the girl's hips, his cock buried to the hilt in the girl's cunt as he fucked her.

Megan, the 18-year-old daughter of Tom and Barbara Stevens, the neighbors on the other side from Deirdrah, had to have been peeking out from between the curtains and the moment Cinnamon left to go jogging with Rex slipped across and let herself in. Judging by the boob-tube and skirt lying on the floor of the bathroom Megan had found Nigel in the shower and stripped off to join him, although usually she only joined Cinnamon and Nigel in their bed when Cinnamon invited her to do so. It had been at least a week since that last happened and Cinnamon could not help smiling, recognizing that, just like her at Megan's age, horny girls need to be thoroughly fucked on a regular basis to keep them satisfied.

Very quietly Cinnamon approached the rutting couple and suddenly shouted, "Boo!"

Megan shrieked and Nigel stepped back, his massive erection leaving Megan's pussy gaping.

Nigel had the grace to look sheepish and Megan, now she knew it was only Cinnamon who caught her being fucked, skipped out of the shower and slid her hands round Cinnamon's waist, pressing herself, still dripping wet, against Cinnamon's body, her face tilted up, her mouth opening for a hungry kiss.

"Minx," said Cinnamon softly, and reached her hands down to cup Megan's pert bum and pull her against her body, her lips seeking those of the pretty little girl, as unable to resist Megan's charms as her husband.

When she broke the kiss, Cinnamon saw Nigel was drying himself, his cock still gloriously hard, a smile on his face. "Get dry and I'll join you both in a minute," Cinnamon said to Megan.

The teenager's eyes sparkled as she did as she was told and Cinnamon laughed because her husband obviously needed no further urging.

As she stood in the shower Cinnamon slid one hand down between her legs and cupped one of her breasts in the other. She lifted the big globe to her mouth and suckled the hard nipple, heightening her arousal as she stroked her clit standing proud between her legs. She had no idea what she would find her husband and their guest doing in their bedroom but she was looking forward to joining them, every bit as sexually aroused by Megan as her husband.

In the event, her wet hair tied up in a towel, her body tingling and smelling of the jasmine talcum powder she liked, Cinnamon entered her bedroom to find Megan lying face-down and her husband lying with his face level with the teenager's pretty ass, keeping her legs together. He often did that to Cinnamon, loving to prise open the cheeks of her bottom and have them envelop his face as he buried his tongue as far as he could get it in his wife's asshole. And that was just what he was doing to Megan who, from the whimpers of pleasure she was making, enjoyed it every bit as much as Cinnamon did.

Climbing onto the bed, Cinnamon stretched out so she was lying facing Megan, her face so close she could lick her tongue in the young woman's ear and whisper, "Does that feel nice?"

"Oh god, yes. So

very

nice," Megan purred, lifting her head so she and Cinnamon could kiss eagerly. At the same time Cinnamon let out a soft moan as Nigel slid his hand along her flank and between the cheeks of her ass, probing for her asshole so he could work his long middle finger past the tight opening of her anus and into her rectum. Cinnamon smiled to herself: she could tell this was going to be one of

those

mornings when Nigel wanted to taste, smell and fuck ass exclusively which suited her just fine.

For long minutes the woman and the girl kissed, their tongues dueling in each other's mouths at the same time as the man they both loved licked the asshole of one and finger-fucked the asshole of the other. And then Nigel lifted himself off Megan and reached into the drawer of the bedside table. The girl squirmed her body so she was lying on her side, her face under Cinnamon's chin, the older woman's big breasts pressed against her smaller bosom, Cinnamon bending her head to kiss the top of the girl's head.

Cinnamon knew Megan loved being sodomized but she also knew she found the first moments, when Nigel lubed Megan's anus to relax and stretch it and then filled her rectum to capacity with his thick hard cock, a little uncomfortable and she liked it when Cinnamon held her tight so she could distract herself by suckling one of Cinnamon's big, heavy breasts.

Nigel's eyes met Cinnamon's as he squeezed out a length of the lube onto his fingers, a loving expression on his face. Cinnamon blew him a kiss as he reached down and very gently worked his slippery fingers around and past the opening of Megan's anus and up into her rectum. Then he withdrew them and reapplied the gel, reaching over Cinnamon's hip to do the same to her. Cinnamon let out a soft 'mmm' of delight, especially when Nigel brought his fingers to her mouth and she opened her lips to suck them clean. The gel tasted of caramel and her bowels and she pressed her breast harder into Megan's suckling mouth as her arousal grew. Megan responded by sliding her hands between Cinnamon's legs to find the older woman's clit and a moment later Cinnamon cried out, a climax soaring through her body as she shuddered in ecstasy.

As soon as Cinnamon's orgasm ebbed, Nigel lay down behind Megan. He lifted the teenager's leg so he could get access to her asshole then flexed his hips, working the bulging tip of his thick prick past her tight sphincter. Megan jerked slightly but then relaxed as Nigel arched his back, the movement driving first the head of his cock into her rectum and then inch after inch of the shaft until his balls were resting against the opening of her cunt, dripping wet with her cream. Nigel had sodomized Megan many times but the look of delight on her husband's face as he savored the sensation of having his cock caressed by the velvet walls of the teenager's back passage made Cinnamon smile. Her darling husband was

such

a pervert!

Gently Cinnamon eased Megan's head from her breast so she could cup the young woman's face in her hands. Their lips met in a passionate kiss at the same moment that Nigel began to fuck Megan's ass, alternating deep, grinding strokes with drawing back until only his glans was still inside her, the sensitive nerves of her anus making her cunt even more slippery wet with her thick, gooey cream. At the same time, Cinnamon slid her hand between their bodies, rolling the bud of Megan's clit between her fingers at the same time as she thrust them like a cock into the depths of the teenager's pussy. Megan moaned in ecstasy and Nigel groaned in response which Cinnamon knew from experience meant Megan had tightened the walls of her rectum, increasing the pressure on the length of her husband's cock as he ground the head deep into Megan's bowels.

However much Nigel might have wanted the pleasure of sodomizing Megan to last, there was a limit to his ability to withstand the incredible pleasure fucking the young woman's asshole was giving him. He gasped out, "Oh god, I'm going to come, baby, deep in your bowels, baby!" and Cinnamon moved her hand from Megan's pussy to her husband's belly, pressing him back as a signal.

"In my mouth!" she urged and Nigel quickly withdrew his cock, covered with the lube and fragrant with the rich scent of Megan's back passage and scrambled up the bed until he could kneel over his wife and their lover, arching his body forward so Cinnamon could lean across, her lips open in anticipation. Nigel sank several inches of his hard cock into his wife's mouth and his balls responded by pumping out gushes of hot, thick cum which Cinnamon swallowed down, so much that semen dripped from the corners of her mouth onto the upturned face of the teenager watching the spectacle with delight.

"Share it with me," Megan whispered, and Cinnamon, doing her best to hold a particularly big load of cum in her mouth, did as she was asked, letting the salty cream slide from where it covered her tongue into Megan's open mouth, both women delighting in the pleasure of cum-swapping.

Cinnamon knew it would be only moments before Nigel was ready to fuck them both again and she turned over onto her stomach, stretching lazily and then reaching back with her hands to pull open the cheeks of her ass, displaying the little puckered pathway to ecstasy her husband loved so much. She knew Nigel's first orgasm would only whet his appetite for more and, while he might adore the incredible tightness of Megan's back passage, nothing would give him greater pleasure than to slide his hands under Cinnamon's body and fill his hands to overflowing with her huge breasts while he pumped his cock in and out of her ass. And if he was a

very

good boy, she and Megan would let him alternate between their welcoming assholes and mouths, spurting as many loads as he could manage into first one and then the other...

* * *

Janet Preston hated two things most in the world. The first was having to catch the early train to London which, even on a Saturday, was always crowded, and, because the age of chivalry was well and truly dead, having to stand for at least three-quarters of the journey. The second was multiple choice personality assessment tests. She loathed the ridiculous questions even more than she hated interviews but, because many companies now insisted on them as part of the recruitment procedure, she knew she would have to grit her teeth and do her best.

Standing on the platform, clutching a coffee cup and a newspaper, Janet wondered if she had chosen the right clothes. Was her skirt just a little on the short side as it ended six inches above her knees? Was it too tight across her bottom which, despite hours of exercise in the gym and following the bloody awful diet where she had to starve herself for two days out of five, resolutely stuck out in a plump, voluptuous curve?

And what about her breasts, massive since she was a teenager which her daughter Emma seemed to have inherited, were they too much on display under her cream silk blouse and black tailored jacket whose buttons were straining with the weight? Oh god, she thought, if she was fretting like this now, how was she going to be when she was sitting in the company's foyer waiting for the doubtless perfectly-made-up-and-impossibly-slim Human Resources Manager to appear? Janet felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes and she had to tell herself firmly to

get a grip

: the company had, after all, invited her for an interview at

very

short notice so she had to be in with a chance.

The public address system announced the arrival of the train and the waiting commuters surged forward the second it stopped. Janet wanted to display some dignity but the thought of standing for an hour made her as determined as everyone else and she climbed on board, her heart sinking when she saw every seat was already taken and people were standing in the aisles. The only consolation was the train's windows were open so, while she might have been pressed up against someone, she wouldn't have to inhale their body odor or discover the Indian meal they'd eaten the night before contained more garlic than curry.

Trying her best to sip her coffee without upending it over herself, her body swaying with the movement of the train, Janet hardly noticed when the train stopped at the next station down the line. She hoped desperately some of the people around her might get off but no-one did and more people crowded on.

Glancing over her shoulder, Janet realized a distinguished-looking man in what she guessed was his early fifties, wearing an exquisitely tailored suit, a raincoat over his arm, was standing so close to her she could smell the mix of pipe tobacco, saddle leather and expensive cologne that came from his clothes. It was a lovely smell and catapulted Janet back to before her much-loved father's death from cancer.

Janet had loved her Daddy more than any man in the world, a love she demonstrated by accepting his seduction of her as soon as she reached 18, even to the point where her father was also her daughter's father although she had never admitted that to Emma. Memories of spending long summer evenings in bed with him flooded her mind: the taste of his sperm as it poured from the tip of his cock buried in her throat, her cries of delight when he lifted her slender legs over his shoulders and fucked her to multiple orgasms, the soft whispers of his mouth against her ear when he turned her on her stomach and slowly and sweetly slid his cock past her anus and up into her rectum, emptying his balls into her bowels and then, as soon as she had sucked him clean, delighting them both by doing it again.

The memory was so intense Janet did not at first notice the man in the suit was using the raincoat over his arm to mask his movements as he slid his hand down to cup the cheeks of her bottom in his hand and started caressing the full globes.

For a moment Janet had to fight to control herself from giggling. This was

so

like one of those stupid personality assessment questions: 'The man behind you is touching you inappropriately. Do you...?' but all she could do was wonder if this was something the man did to every woman he stood next to or was it her particularly curvy bottom that so attracted him? That thought was not entirely unpleasant and Janet decided that, provided he didn't do any more than just stroke her through her skirt, she would not make a scene by slapping him, demanding he stop molesting her.

And then any thought Janet might have had about whether the man in the suit's movements were innocent became academic. She felt his warm breath on the back of her neck as he leaned his head down to inhale her perfume, whispering in her ear in a cultured voice, "Such beautiful breasts you have, my dear."

Janet felt herself blush because that was

exactly

what her Daddy used to say to her and then she squirmed with shock as the man, his movements concealed by the raincoat, reached around her body and very slowly and carefully lifted the hem of her skirt so he could slide his hand down over the fluttering skin of her tummy and under the elastic of her panties to cup his fingers round the mound of her pussy.

Oh. My. God. Janet thought, taking a sip of her now-cold coffee so she could look from side-to-side and see if anyone was watching, and possibly taking pleasure from, what was happening. But no-one was: her fellow commuters were oblivious with their heads buried in newspapers or frantically writing emails on their laptops which meant Janet, whose pussylips were being pressed open by a long, thick finger which slid smoothly into the depths of her cunt, was being finger-fucked right next to them without anyone being the slightest bit aware.