Chesterbury Tales Pt. 02bysarahloveitt©
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 Two : The Travellers Rest Inn
On that same morning, when many couples throughout the country were starting the day with bodies joined together at the groin, Julie awoke slowly with a comforting hand nestling between her warm, damp thighs. She was in her large, mahogany, four-poster bed, its canopy rich in embroidery, complemented by an ornamental velvet valance, and heavy, multi-coloured brocade hangings at each corner, held back with thick cords of golden silk adorned with heavy tassels. Julie was warm and comfortable, snuggling deep under the Swedish duvet with duck-down filling.
The sleeping form of her partner, on his side, was cuddled up into the contours of her back, his torso pressing against the full cheeks of her bottom. She was aware of his stiff morning pride pushed in the crack between them. Reaching between her thighs, her hand lazily explored the body behind her, locating and cradling the soft, hot bag between his legs.
The first memory to surface from her drowsy mind was the exhilarating session of the previous evening when, to conclude a night of private debauchery in the bar-lounge, Robert had taken her long and brutally over the back of an arm chair, spurred on by the other guests.
The young balletic man with the long, elegant cock had just withdrawn from her, unable to hold back his ejaculation long enough. Roger had taken over to finish her off. Julie loved it! She had, earlier, enjoyed flogging the flabby bottom of James, a middle-aged MP, with a leather strap until his cheeks were scarlet, whilst Mary jerked at his penis.
He was squatting on all-fours over Mary, she lying on the carpet, whilst tossing him off vigorously. When it spurted its thick contents all over her breasts, in seven gushes, the guests squealed with delight.
The memory of those encounters had Julie already feeling randy again. That unmistakable dragging ache deep in her secret female passage begged for attention. It often did, for Julie had a powerful appetite for sex. And she enjoyed the feeling of power it gave her over others. Fortunately she had a partner who understood her needs and pandered to them. And in doing so, had created a very lucrative business!
She fondled her damp flesh in the drowsy warmth, squeezing her full breasts and soft limp nipples, her palms gliding over the sensuous texture of the shantung silk nightdress. Her pride and narcissism about her breasts were justified, for they were in excellent shape. Her nipples were long, almost like udders, and relished massage. They had already started to stiffen in response to her own caresses, as she purred at the memory of those long deep thrusts into the clutching flesh of her slippery folds. Julie adored the soothing sensation she got from that private passage tucked away between her thighs. Her cunt!
She adored her cunt! It gave her unlimited joy and pleasure. Some people tried to avoid using that word, thinking it vulgar, but she liked it. Cunt! It was old fashioned and basic, falling easily from the lips. Cunt, cock and fuck expressed Julie's taste for the baser instincts. She thought to herself that there was no other fulfilment - either mental or physical - to compare with fucking as she lovingly fingered the warm, moist pouting lips of her bare cunt, ever willing to be filled to the brim with thick cock.
Julie luxuriated in the quiet contentment feeling herself gave her. Now turned thirty, she hungered for sex more than ever, worshipping the proud, rigid staff of male flesh and, beneath it, that lovely pair of plums in the bag her hand had returned to fondling. Lovely hot prick and squidgy balls! Hmmmm! The bigger the better! She remembered reading recently that the gorilla has the largest balls relative to its weight because the female needed regular fucking when on heat.
If human beings came second in the sex stakes, Julie was among the front of the field. She worshipped her body! She loved to bend over whilst being fucked, watching the proud cock between her thighs, stretching her flesh, pushing aside the heavy, crinkled lips at the entrance to the dark inner folds of her cunt; the dangling balls swinging as the prick slid in and out of the juice. Giving her pleasure. Pleasuring her!
Julie's private reverie was disturbed by the sound of the door opening. She half-opened one eye lazily. Through her eyelashes she saw the familiar bed-side table with its brass lamp and scarlet shade, the small clock showing eight o'clock. A slight gash of light where the brocade curtains joined was the only source of light in the quiet, darkened room. She opened the eye fully, watching Mary approach the bed with a tray of morning tea. Her tall body of perfect shape and poise, glided across the room.
'Mary will satisfy my urges', she thought, easing up her nightdress up to her shoulders as Mary put the tray on the small table before going to the window to open the curtains.
'Good morning, Mary. Have you seen to the guests?' Julie asked quietly.
'Yes. That's all my jobs done for now. For a short while, anyway. Anne's busy in the kitchen, and the tables are laid for breakfast. There's only four people to cater for this morning.'
Julie smiled at her. 'Come on, then, Mary. You can cater to me. I'm desperate for some attention,' and Julie lifted the corner of the sheet to show her naked breasts and thighs.
Mary chuckled happily as she came to the side of the bed. She saw Julie's protruding nipples were already fully aroused. 'Didn't you get enough last night?'
'Do I ever?'
Mary knelt beside the bed to slide her hand over Julie's thigh above her knee, stroking the warm skin. Straying further up Julie's leg, Mary felt the smoothness of the shaved mound below her belly. The first flutter of excitement rippled in her own gut as she leaned forward to take a long stiff nipple between her lips. Julie let out sigh of pleasure. Although her nipples were large, Mary remembered being taken aback by the giant teats of one of last night's private visitors. What a mouthful they had made! Roger had suckled them eagerly and lustfully to the noisy delight of the lady herself.
Julie gave a slight sudden gasp, mild shock waves rippling through her, followed by a second surge, as Mary's expert fingers found the pleasure-bud above the moist folds of flesh. Dipping between the dark warmth of Julie's thighs, the fingers caressed the tender lips, now oozing with slippery moisture. Half-bending her right knee, Julie raised it to allow Mary's prying fingers easier access to the hairless, fleshy entrance to her wet womanhood.
Robert became half-conscious. He opened an eye to see Mary's lips teasing his wife's right nipple, her hand working under the duvet. Drawing back the covers slowly to expose the impressive cheeks of Julie's well-rounded bottom, Robert reached down to caress them sleepily. Mary's tongue traced a wet passage from the nipple, down Julie's belly until it nudged its way into the top fold of her nether lips to nibble at the little swollen bud. With a whimper of delight, Julie held Mary's head between her hands, pressing it eagerly into her groin.
Applying her mouth and tongue to Julie's luscious flesh, Mary's hand reached through the parted thighs to grasp Robert's stiff shaft, stroking it lightly. Her tongue parted the juicy petals of Julie's vulva, revealing the dark pink warmth of her passage. She drew Robert's cock between the lips, watching the familiar stiff column of flesh stretch and part the pink folds as it sank between them. Julie writhed and whimpered with pleasure as the thick column withdrew again, dragging the sticky crinkled lips with it, before thrusting once more into the yearning gap with strong regular strokes.
The uncovered clitoris was being lashed with Mary's tongue, whilst Robert's powerful thrusts brushed against her cheek. She was getting aroused herself. She felt the honey seeping into her vagina. Reaching up her own skirt with her other hand, her fluttering fingers found the oozing lips. The flesh was still sensitive from last night's buffeting but the lips thrilled to the touch, even so.
Mary reached up to Julie's left breast, rolling the hardened, rubbery, nipple between thumb and fore-finger. The combination of hard flesh driving in and out of her inner warmth, Mary's probing tongue on her clitoris, and the nipple massage, was stirring Julie's lust, bringing it to the boil. The muscles in her groin flexed as the tension rose within her. The thighs rippled and jerked. With a sudden surge Julie came to a screaming climax. It raged throughout her body, her head thrashing on the pillow with a harsh groan.
Robert was now driving hard into her at a faster pace. Muscles in his buttocks tightened. His rhythm faltered. Tighter and tighter. Grunts of agony escaped until, with a flood of relief, his loins bucked erratically at her buttocks. Growling loudly, he pulled his penis out of the warm flesh, transferring it straight into Mary's waiting, open mouth. The seed gushed forth in copious spurts.
This brought about Mary's own quivering climax. She bounced her hips up and down on her fingers impaled within her wetness, holding Robert's thick discharge in her cheeks, still sucking on the shaft, her nose nuzzling Julie's slippery crack. There was an all round sigh of pleasure and relief as their muscles relaxed. Mary slithered up to Julie's face to kiss her lips, allowing Robert's salty juices to dribble into her mouth. The two women's tongues fought for a share of the prize.
'Thanks Mary, that's just what I needed to start the day,' Julie murmured happily.
Robert lazily drew the warm duvet up to his chin. 'Good-morning, Mary, and thanks for the waking service - and the tea.'
'You're both very welcome!' Mary laughed as she got up to open the curtains. 'It's snowing fairly hard out there. It's piling up and the forecast isn't too good.' She poured out two cups of tea, added milk and put them on the two bedside tables. 'I'd better go and give Anne a hand with the breakfasts. She's on her own and I expect she's wondering where I've got to.'
Julie giggled happily. 'You'd better not tell her where you've been or she'll be jealous!'
After she'd closed the door behind her Julie sighed. 'She's a real treasure that one. We might have to take her in as a junior partner. Or perhaps a sleeping partner!' She laughed.
Julie sat up against the pillow, sipping her tea, looking at the large print on the wall facing her. It showed one of the positions of the Kama Sutra with the man enjoying the congress of a herd of cows, with a woman bent backwards impaled on his lingam whilst he plays with the yoni of four others maidens; two with his fingers and two with his toes. Prints of other positions were to be found in the other bedrooms during these special week-ends. They were, of course, replaced with landscapes during normal business.
Mary had worked at the Travellers' Rest Inn for the best part of three years, since she was eighteen years old. For much of that time she had indulged in the erotic activities of the owners, Julie and Robert. An intelligent girl, Mary had a wide range of interests, but an insatiable sexual appetite to match that of Julie. She found her work at the Travellers' Rest offered plenty of opportunity to satisfy her sexual hunger, besides paying well.
She didn't normally do the morning tea round. She was more usually to be found behind the bar during the evening, with little to hide her natural charms, with their pert, puckered nipples. Indeed, there were times when the heat of the bar lounge forced her to work entirely topless, to the delight of the patrons.
Mary might also be seen doing a strip-tease on certain evenings. Her bouncing breasts and rotating tassels, with writhing hips, would mesmerise the guests, men and women alike. The small dance floor was specially lit with carefully placed spot lights for such entertainment. The guests would gaze wistfully through the blue haze of tobacco smoke at the carefully coiffured covering of light pubic hair, shaped to accentuate the swollen pad between her permanently parted thighs. Even when her legs were together, there remained a small gap at the join showing puckered brown-pink lips peeking through the golden curls.
Julie and Robert took good care of Mary and several of the well-heeled guests made sure that Mary got good bonuses for her excesses.
But on this particular morning the room maid hadn't turned in because of the bad weather. Mary, who lived in at the hotel most of the time, had substituted for her. Robert switched on the bedside radio to catch the latest weather forecast. Sure enough there were snow warnings and heavy falls were expected over high ground which probably meant them.
The Travellers' Rest was a seventeenth century building, having been extended from time to time to provide additional comfortable accommodation. It was situated on a secondary road leading up to the moors in the heart of England, some four miles or so from the nearest town. It was often used as a short cut from East to West and vice versa to avoid the more circuitous major route whilst offering superb scenery. There had been talk of building new motorways but that would probably be some time off. The M1 was still incomplete, so traffic was likely to get snarled up if this weather continued.
The eight guest bedrooms of the Travellers' Rest were luxuriously appointed with modern en-suite facilities. All of them had king-sized four-poster beds, beautifully curtained and sumptuously fitted. There was excellent fishing down by the river and, during the season, some grouse shooting. Good fell-walking was also there for the energetic.
Robert and Julie did a good trade with wealthy, middle-class clients. Several upper-class clients as well! The private club they had developed with great care and discretion over the years catered for the sexually liberated. They met during very special week-ends for couples seeking something rather more exciting than fishing and shooting - for those whose enjoyment came from pleasures of the flesh. Besides occasional evenings, Robert and Julie arranged six of these week-ends each year for carefully vetted clients who could afford such excesses.
Altogether, they had a clientele of around two dozen couples, mixing their invitations to avoid too frequent repetition of the same people. This ensured continued variety and interest. After the recent Profumo affair, the need for special security was paramount. This particular week-end was intended to be one of those occasion, but it was beginning to look as though it would be a non-event if the weather didn't improve.
One of the week-end couples, Laurie and Enid, had already spent the previous night at the inn, but the other seven may have difficulty getting through. Ah well! Time would tell.
By the time Robert came down for breakfast one of the couples from the previous evening, though not involved in the week-end of pleasure, had already settled their bill and left. They had been assured by the AA that the road into Shropshire was still open. Robert was relieved. Martin and Delia had phoned to say that they would leave early and expected to be with them before lunch.
Mary was chatting and laughing with the second couple over a cup of coffee remembering the merrier moments of the previous night. Enid, a small, very beautiful lady, was dressed in a smart tweed suit with her fair hair combed back and tied into a bun. She wore tortoise-shell spectacles on a slightly pinched nose, looking for all the world like a prim school mistress of the Miss Brodie sort. In fact she was the managing director of a special consultancy organisation, enjoying a long week-end.
Her husband, Laurie, was well built, with thinning hair brushed straight back from the forehead. He wore a Vyella check shirt and woollen tie with diamond pattered socks and brown brogue shoes. He didn't look the least bit like a cabinet minister, but he was. Not, however, in one of the great departments of state.
'What on earth did you put in those drinks last night?' Enid asked Mary. 'I must have been well away.' A flush spread across her tight cheeks, her pale grey eyes had a rueful look, and her thin lips compressed. 'To squat down on the bar and pee into a glass. I must say!'
Mary laughed. To look at Enid, she thought, no one would ever suspect her capable of doing such a thing - certainly not into a wine glass! 'The men do so enjoy watching a woman pee, though I can't think why. They couldn't get close enough to you last night and that thin chap, Andrew - he was the one standing behind you - actually trickled it through his fingers.'
Laurie roared with laughter at the memory. 'Your party piece with the banana was the high-light of the evening, though. I made sure last night that I had the last bite.'
His wife nudged him with a laugh. 'You dirty devil!' she scolded. 'You'd already had a double helping of sweet at dinner!' There was more laughter.
'I've been doing that trick for a good many years now. It always brings the house down.'
'And the men's cocks up,' Enid added. 'Particularly our local MP's last night!'
'Who were those two young ones? Such a tall, elegant lady. Both had beautiful bodies. Their naked tango was terrific. Not a hair on either body - well, except for the head. We were all treated to ample crotch watching. Not a soft prick in the house!'
'Nor a dry fanny!'
'Hers certainly wasn't! It was almost dripping with honey! Thought he'd screw her there and then.'
'It was a very elegant penis, wasn't it? I suppose it looked longer with him being shaved. Like Robert's.'
'I was surprised when she lay down on her back and brought her legs right over her head. I thought she was just wanting to expose her bare open vulva. Then, when she started licking her own fanny... well! Extraordinary party piece!'
'And her partner just as supple, getting his head between his bent knees to suck his own cock.'
'But he didn't seem to mind when John couldn't resist any longer from stuffing his curious misshapen cock into the girl as she licked her own clit.'
'Well, her young man repaid by taking Julie before Roger gave us his finale! Screwing Julie to the sound and beat of the Beatles!'
Roger joined them just then to explain that they may be facing being snowed in for a good while so, if they wished to get away before they were trapped or make any personal arrangements, then they should go ahead.
'Nothing to go home for, old boy. No meetings.' Laurie said. 'May as well make the most of it, eh?'
Another couple expected was their good friend Bill - a young Viscount after his father's untimely death in a recent air disaster - and one of his models, Gertie. They had only a few miles to drive from his stately home. They would almost certainly make it. Still, he would ring Bill to suggest an early start.
As the morning wore on it was looking worse. Robert asked the cook, Anne, if she would be prepared to stay over if necessary. She always kept spare clothing at the hotel in case of emergencies. She made a phone call to her sister to explain the arrangement.
Anne was a well-preserved, childless war widow of thirty-eight, a willing accomplice to their special entertainment, though she preferred not to get involved in some of the more outrageous events. Serving topless was fun for her because she was proud of her unsullied breasts, pale and full, topped with dark nipples.
During the remainder of the day the hotel prepared for the week-end visitors. Immodest pictures were hung on walls, large photographs showing couples in various coital positions adorning the dining room walls, with some of Rowlandson's lewder prints in the lounge, with illustrations from the Kama Sutra in the bedrooms. By the end of the afternoon, the hotel resembled an exhibition of erotic art.