tagNovels and NovellasChesterbury Tales Pt. 01

Chesterbury Tales Pt. 01

bysarahloveitt©

It is Winter 1966. When five couples find themselves stranded at a remote high class inn by extreme weather conditions, they amuse each other by relating stories of an erotic nature, as well as taking part in all kinds of private and group sexual activities.

Chapter One: The Theatre Company Manager

'Shit!' Emma swore out loud to herself. She had left the new contract file on her desk at the flat. A file she would need with her in Cambridge. There! That's what comes of letting Rick have an early morning farewell fuck, instead of getting out of bed, she thought, stuffing her arms hurriedly into her coat.

That self-indulgence had delayed her. It meant that she'd had to rush round to get herself ready and pack her case. Still, when she recalled the exquisite pleasure of his Romeo deep inside her Juliet - goodness, she thought, the silly names we give to things - and the satisfying orgasmic relief, she reckoned it was worth the delay. After all, the journey was only about ninety miles so, providing there were no hold ups on the way, she would still get there in good time to meet Jake Castle and his agent by lunch time. And her flat was only a short walk away.

She snatched up her diary and her pen, dropped them into her bag, grabbed her brief case and hurried out of her office, calling to the secretary as she left that she was, finally, on her way.

'I'll phone in tomorrow and check out with you. Don't forget that message for Douglas.'

'OK! Have fun!' came from inside the other office.

'I'll try,' she called, hurrying out of the door. Fun! Not very likely, she thought. The touring company had run into a series of problems and she had to rush to Manchester to sort them out. She wasn't sure how Jake Castle would go down with the others actors in the company, either. Still! To hell with them!, she told herself.

She reached the car park to drop the brief case on the passenger seat of her new Capri. From there she walked quickly to her flat, on the first floor of a converted large Victorian house, the erstwhile family home of some lace magnate. Running quickly up the carpeted staircase, she fumbled in her bag for the key and let herself into her lounge. There was the file, on the desk where she had forgotten to pick it up in her hurry to leave for the office. As she took up the folder, she froze. She thought she heard someone crying in her bedroom.

What on earth ...! she muttered to herself. Emma held her breath, straining her ears to listen. Sure enough, the sounds were coming from the bedroom. It sounded like a woman in there, quietly wailing and whimpering. She tiptoed to the door, which wasn't properly closed. Pushing it ajar a few inches she peeped into the room.

Her jaw dropped in astonishment. There, on her bed, the heaving buttocks of Rick were bouncing up and down. He was plunging vigorously between the wide open legs, pointing to the ceiling in a large V, of the groaning woman. Hearing the rhythmic slapping of Rick's balls against the girl's bottom, it crossed Emma's mind that copulation between humans looked ridiculously clumsy when you weren't the one doing it.

'Yes, yes, yes!' The unknown woman was gasping softly but urgently to herself, her legs trembling and sawing the air, her loins bucking wildly and hands clawing at Rick's back.

As his rhythm disintegrated, loins bouncing hard at the hidden thighs, Rick cried out triumphantly 'I come, I come, my heart's delight!' The very expression he had used only four hours earlier when coming into Emma. The file she was holding slipped from her grasp and shuttered to the floor.

Rick turned in sudden surprise. Emma was glaring at him in astonishment and disbelief. As he turned, pulling away from the girl, Emma watched his discharge spurting into the condom, filling its sac. She also saw that the recipient of Rick's heart's delight was one of the new young acting members, Jenny Carver, with her thighs yawning wide, showing wet, tousled, hairy genitals. And on the bedside table Emma saw an empty packet. Her own condoms! For God's sake!

It took a great deal of effort to draw on a composure she certainly didn't feel. There was a short silence.

'Please go, and put my flat key by the phone as you leave.' Emma spoke in her calm, cultured voice as she picked up the file.

She went into the kitchen where she leaned her back against the fridge for support, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. The bloody traitor! she thought. The fucking, bloody traitor! Her fury began to rise in her gullet as tears of anger filled her eyes. How dare he? She wiped away the tears of humiliation from her cheeks with the back of her hand with a brusque gesture.

Then, with a resolute thrust, she pushed herself away from the fridge and stormed back into the lounge to have it out with him, only to see the front door closing behind the disappearing couple.

'You fucking louse!' she yelled as she collapsed into the arm chair, breathing heavily.

Pull yourself together girl, she told herself taking deliberate deep breaths. He's only a stupid actor. It's your own fault for falling for such a corny line. Quotes from Shakespeare, Keats and goodness knows who else besides. She shook her head in disbelief at her gullibility. After all those years of firm self-discipline, to surrender herself to a young Lothario was stupid.

Collecting her thoughts, she went quickly into the bedroom into go through to the bathroom to repair her make-up. The bed-clothes were in a tangle and the sod had even had the bloody cheek to leave the used condom beneath her bed-side lamp. And on top of her new copy of The Clockwork Orange, no less! She lifted the sticky receptacle between forefinger and thumb, held it at arms length, went into the bathroom and dropped it down the lavatory pan. So much for up-and-coming young actors. Sod 'em all! she spat out loud to herself, angrily flushing the handle.

As a final insult, the condom refused to be flushed away the first time, bobbing in the turbulent water as a kind of mockery

Emma left her flat in a confused state of mind. She returned to the car, thinking that it was just as well she was going to be away for a few days. It would give her some time to sort herself out, to decide what attitude to take on her return. She headed out on the A52 worrying that she was going to be late. Well, if she was, Jake Castle would just have to wait, that's all!

Actors spend most of their life waiting, anyway! Waiting at rehearsals, waiting to go on stage, waiting to get another job. Thankfully, though cold, the weather was dry and clear. Even so, she didn't like the look of the clouds gathering ominously to the west. She switched on the car-radio to hear the news and weather forecast.

'Oh, my God! Snow!' she moaned out loud.

As the Senior Company Manager, Emma Shaw was responsible for every member of each production company in the country. She was a brisk - sometimes brusque - well-respected manager, highly intelligent, quick-witted and fiercely efficient. She felt that it was necessary for her to be that much better than her male counterparts if she wanted to maintain her authority over a wide selection of characters, all with their own individual emotions and problems. Women in positions of authority were few and far between. She'd worked hard to get to where she was.

Emma wasn't considered beautiful in the accepted sense, but she had plenty of poise and confidence, with a personality approaching celebrity status. She also had exceptional charm which made everyone she spoke to feel that they were the most interesting person in the world. It helped that she genuinely found people fascinating; they found her equally fascinating. She was never at a loss for words, always able to keep up a conversation with a complete stranger with no sign of embarrassment or hesitation.

Every member of the company was in awe of her. In particular, her peers in management had enormous respect for her total dedication and supreme competence. She was nobody's fool, nor any man's mistress.

Until Rick came along, that is, and swept her off her feet!

Rick had disturbed her stability rather more than she would have cared to admit. She was, for a time, completely infatuated with the young actor. Not a spark of scandal had ever been associated with Emma's name. She had been very careful. In fact, some men had speculated whether or not she was a lesbian. But this was probably because she had often rejected amorous advances from them and it was just their way of retaining some masculine pride.

But she was not a lesbian. She was very fond of men, or more accurately, that central essential part of them. But she did not believe in mixing sex with business. Not any longer. It just wasn't worth the aggro. In truth, she was afraid of becoming involved and the possible loss of her self-control in an amorous affair. It was OK for men in top jobs to fool around - indeed it was almost expected of them - but not for women. Unfair, perhaps, but true!

The brief torrid affair with Rick had proved to her that self-control wasn't always possible. The silly thing was that she could always find a willing virile male body when she felt the need. She was not entirely without the usual feminine attributes.

Her figure was in good shape. Her hair was a genuine blonde colour which she kept swept back, tying it at the nape of her neck to emphasise the shape of her high cheek bones. Her eyes were a light hazel colour, emphasised by the large blue-framed spectacles she wore. Though slightly warped in shape, her nose was well-proportioned. If not exactly beautiful, it was a face full of character.

Emma always took great care with her make-up and dressed unpretentiously but well. Nothing too flashy. With salary-plus-expenses, she could afford simple, fashionable clothes. In every way, Emma was a very sophisticated lady, a resolute feminist who still cared about her appearance, dressing to be as attractive as she could whilst avoiding the over-frivolous.

Driving along, her mind wandered back to Rick. She tried to remember what excuse he had used to invite himself back to her flat for lunch. But she couldn't recall the details. She only remembered that, once inside the door, he had taken her in his arms, telling her that he was enchanted by the softness and secret promise in her hazel eyes. He wanted to gaze deeply into them. His own were a wide bright blue with an ingenuous, appealing quality, looking as though they were about to shed a tear.

The looks, in fact, which had sent millions of housewives mooning over him on his very successful television debut. Rick never looked back!

He cupped her chin in the palm of his left hand and gazed hard at her. Emma was mesmerised.

'I've been watching you all morning in rehearsal, studying your lovely face and soft lips, so ripe for kissing.' And he leaned his face to her, brushing his lips lightly against hers before pressing them firmly together.

She was spellbound by his sudden, intriguing confession, remembering that she had, indeed, been conscious of his eyes fixing on her from time to time whilst she was in the rehearsal room. It had made her feel a little uneasy but flattered.

She remonstrated breathlessly, 'Rick, what on earth ...' But he placed a finger to her lips before pressing his lips to hers again, his finger between them. The kiss was firmer and longer than the first.

He murmured urgently in her ear. 'Emma, you are true beauty personified. Truly ravishing. Many people told me of your charm and kindness, but no one warned me of your fatal attractiveness.' He looked into her eyes. '"If I could write the beauty of your eyes, And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would say 'This poet lies: such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces." What's more, you smell divine.'

He nuzzled the nape of her neck. 'Clean and fresh!'

She thought he smelt appealing as well!

He drew her closer, inhaling deeply through his nose. She melted in his arms, closing her eyes with a sigh, completely overwhelmed by his expression of admiration, even though it knew it was written by Shakespeare. His tongue sought hers. She made no protest as his hands roamed over her breasts. He unfastened two buttons, pushed the blouse and bra strap from one shoulders, softly caressing the naked swelling orb.

'"The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone! Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand and softer breast,"'

His soft voice wooed her as he lifted the breast from its cradle, cupping it in the palm of his hand, rolling his thumb over the inflated nipple. Emma was proud of her teats which, when aroused, swelled up until they resembled chunky chestnuts protruding from the whites of her full breasts. When Rick felt their stunning size and shape he leaned back away from her to unfasten the remaining buttons on her blouse. He slid the garment and bra from the other shoulder, looking down with admiration at her jutting baubles.

'"This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower ..."'

Without ending the sentence, he bent his head to take the swollen object of his praise between his lips, suckling it tenderly. Emma was in a daze, still standing there with eyes closed in the middle of her spacious lounge. With guts churning, the juices started to bubble inside her. She felt his fingers unbutton her waistband, pushing her flowered skirt to the floor. Thumbs hooked into the top of her knickers, pushing them down her thighs as he sank to his knees in front of her.

A wisp of warm breath on her lower belly betrayed the closeness of his face to her genitals. A sudden tremor rippled through her loins as his lips disturbed her patch of hair, brushing against her clitoris. The knickers were removed. The tip of Rick's tongue nudged its way under the hood and her legs buckled beneath her, loins juddering with the thrill of sexual arousal. His tongue found her clitoris.

My God! she thought, what am I doing? I hardly know the man! But she did nothing to resist his advances. She thrilled to the touch of his questing tongue teasing her button of ecstasy.

Rick brought Emma to her knees, placing them either side of his thighs, facing him. He took her again in his arms, pressing her to him, murmuring into her ear, in a barely audible voice.

'Emma! You are love's idol made for dalliance and playful delight. Your body is made for adoration and worship. O, let my Romeo worship you with the passion he hungers for.'

He slipped a hand between her thighs to cradle the oozing lips of her vulva whilst the other guided her left hand to his rigid staff protruding from his light cotton trousers. She looked down at his proud hero. A droplet had already formed at its head. Rick noticed her look.

'My Romeo weeps for joy. He searches for his Juliet.' His gasps were rather melodramatic Emma thought, but as their mouths met in another passionate embrace, open-lipped, tongues exploring each other with a yearning for love, she was a slave to her senses.

With an eager movement, she brought her open thighs closer to his lap, pushing her impatient lips towards the object of their desire. Her fingers brought the head of his erect shaft between the lips, holding it in the portals of her shrine. Once there, it paused whilst Emma thrilled in anticipation of the joy to come before sinking onto the staff.

Little by little, she felt the head of Rick's hero press inside, fill her, exploring every warm fold of her inner temple, her citadel of rapture and love.

Emma responded in a hoarse whisper, 'My willing Juliet greets your Romeo, craving his visit. "Oh gentle Romeo! If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully." Let him enter and welcome Juliet's embrace.'

And she squeezed the internal muscles of her vagina to cling to every contour of the welcome intruder, clenching and unclenching them.

'It fits as perfect as any glove made for love. My Romeo at last has found the elusive Juliet he has sought. Our lovers are united in a tender embrace. Their oily essence mixed to one sweet salve.'

His silky smooth voice made Emma's senses reel. She fell backwards, pulling Rick with her, until she was on her back, open-thighed, with his rigid Romeo filling her aching Juliet.

'Do it beautifully, darling. Do it beautifully,' she implored him urgently.

He slowly withdrew himself, until the bulb was barely held between her clinging lips, before plunging back deep into her. The stiffness slid in and out of her with slow thrusts, savouring each separate stroke. Emma was in bliss, overwhelmed by the joyful feeling in her bursting flesh. This wonderful intruder gave her such delicious sensations within. As he began to gather more pace, the churning inside Emma became more intense. Her senses focused on her very epicentre. The fetters of frustration tightened within as the idol drove into her citadel. The thrusting became more uncontrolled. The tension within her increased.

'Yes, yes!' she groaned. Her breathing became harsher. 'It's coming, coming, coming! Faster, faster! Harder, harder!'

Her voice rose into a hoarse frenzy. Her loins began to jerk and buck. 'You're killing me, Rick. Make me come, make me come!' she begged urgently.

Her senses and thoughts were hammering at the barrier in her groin, shrieking for release, sensations tumbling over each other in their frenzy to burst out. She had no thought for anything or anyone else. Only her own sensual liberation. Romeo was now driving fast and hard, dragging her little hood up and down. Rasping against her sensitive clitoris.

Emma's knees trembled violently; fists beat the floor in wild frustration. Her mind was ready to erupt in her agony. Then, with a mighty wrench, the barrier broke. Sensations exploded in her citadel, washing over every nerve in her body with an enormous feeling of elation.

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When her senses began once again to take in external things, she realised that Rick was gasping hard and grunting. His loins juddered and jerked until, with one huge lunge to a dramatic cry of 'I come, I come my heart's delight,' he ejaculated, washing the walls of her shrine of love with the essence of his testicles. She squeezed her loins hard to siphon out all his seed, sucking it high into her belly.

When Emma regained her breath she was ready for a second dose. One she could enjoy, now that the self-indulgence of the first one was over. She licked his eye-lids and kissed his ears.

'Come to bed!' she said softly and seductively. And they removed their clothes before clambered onto the bed. Emma hinged her thighs wide open to present the opening of her vulva, the blonde curls now tangled with their combined juices. She caressed his back, stroked his bottom, slowly arousing her emotions ready to receive him again. Her hand reached further to cradle his testicles. She was taken aback. What enormous balls!, she thought. They're huge! Absolute whoppers!

'Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?' She whispered.

Rick re-entered Emma's willing body, his thrusting loins soon urging him once again into a strong rhythmic plunging motion.

'The second coming is always better than the first. Let's really enjoy ourselves. Once more unto the breach,' he said. And he looked down to watch his gliding, honey-smeared shaft, slide in and out of Emma's pink flesh.

Each concentrated on the delicious awareness of their united genitals, giving the other delightful sensations throughout the body, until passions began to rise once more. Tensions rose. Loins were flexed. Emma fluttered her fingers on her own clitoris to bring about another overwhelming orgasm.

Rick continued to thrust in and out of her, his massive balls slapping against her bottom, before the inevitable result. With a grunt and a lurch of his hips, he emptied into her a second time to a cry of triumph.

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