Trust Ch. 06

"Yes," she smiled as she squeezed my hand, "and I hope we'll come here many more times together."

"I know we will," I smiled back as I kissed her.

It was customary for Jim to take refuge in the local hostelry and enjoy a pint and cigar while Rosalie fussed and fretted over preparing the Sunday lunch. Emma offered an extra pair of hands to her mother while I volunteered without very much persuasion to accompany Jim to the Fox and Hounds. As we enjoyed a pint of the excellent local ale I asked Jim if he had any advice for me with regard to his daughter.

"Whatever you do, always be completely straight with her. If you ever try and pull the wool over her eyes she'll spot you a mile away and she'll be off and you'll get no second chance. More than one young lad has found that out the hard way over the years, I can tell you." He took a long drag on his cigar before fixing his eye on mine and continuing, "But if you treat her right she'll go all the way to hell with you and back."

"I'll remember that," I smiled.

After a truly hearty and heart-threatening lunch we settled down with our coffee to look at the special photo album of most embarrassing family photos. There was Emma aged 4 with her blonde hair in little bunches, sitting on the tractor seat with her hands on the steering wheel while naked apart from her black slip-on plimsolls. There was a photo of Emma aged 11 with her brothers and sister, a very pretty red haired and green eyed girl, all four of them in ballet costume: the girls looking very pretty and very appealing in their black leotards over white tights with white satin ballet slippers tied with ankle ribbons with their hands resting on their laps, their legs demurely crossed and their feet delicately pointed; while the boys stood behind looking self-consciously proud in their white leotards and black tights with long white socks and black leather ballet slippers.

"So all four of you did ballet?" I asked in delighted surprise.

"For a while, although only Emma carried on and made a career of it," Jim explained. "Sophie naturally wanted to be like her big sister and because she and Tom were twins and they always wanted to do what the other one did, Tom wanted to do ballet as well and Mike didn't want to be left out and if any of the other boys started picking on Tom for doing ballet he wanted to be able to say to them 'I do ballet as well' before thumping them. And when Mike thumped someone, they stayed thumped so Tom never had any trouble."

There was a photo of Emma and Lucie aged 13 balancing on a see saw, both of them dressed in their bras and knickers with their white Victoria plimsolls and ankle socks. There was a photo of Emma at 15 wearing a black leotard, pink ballet tights and pink ballet shoes and a wide brimmed straw while standing en pointe on a low brick wall in the garden in imitation of the famous photo of the young Lady Diana. But the biggest surprise of all was Jim and Rosalie at the 1969 Isle of White Festival, both of them with their long hair garlanded with flowers and both of them with flowers painted all over their naked, dirt dusted bodies. Jim was barefoot but Rosalie's beautiful long legs were tipped with a pair of very muddy white Marbot plimsolls.

"And this is the woman who's always telling me off for wearing plimsolls...," declared Emma triumphantly.

"...All the time," Rosalie protested in defence. "I'm only asking you to wear something else on your feet sometimes apart from ballet shoes."

Just before we left Rosalie presented us with a cardboard box full of goodies to take home. She ended her listing of the contents by pointing to a large paper bag as she said,

"And here's a bag of courgettes. We've had such a good crop this year I don't know what to do with them all."

Emma's face suddenly contorted with the effort of stopping herself from bursting with laughter but she couldn't.

"What's so funny about courgettes?" asked Rosalie, totally mystified. Emma coughed and blushed with embarrassment and her eyes shot me a desperate plea to get her out of her mess.

"Er, it's just that we heard a silly joke about courgettes the other day." I stonewalled for a moment as I tried to think of a way out. "It's the sort of joke that makes you laugh just because it's so silly. 'Why are courgettes so interested in animals; because they're zucchinis.'"

Jim immediately burst out laughing but Rosalie just looked blank. "I don't get it," she said weakly.

Jim explained patiently, "Courgettes...zucchinis...zoo keenies...keen on zoos...animals live in zoos."

"Oh for goodness sake," Rosalie laughed as she put two fingers like the barrel of a gun to her head and pulled the trigger. "You'd better take me out the barn and shoot me. There's no hope left for me."

We took our leave of Emma's parents with lots of hugs and kisses. We weren't in a hurry to get back to London so instead of getting straight onto the motorway we decided to meander for the first part of the journey along A roads and country lanes and pick it up later. With Emma resting her white plimsolled feet very sexily on the dashboard we drove through several villages and out into open country again. After a while she said,

"Take the next turning left. There's a wonderful view I want to show you."

I did as she asked and after driving for a mile or so along a winding single track road between large hedge-lined fields we pulled in at a stopping place next to a wooden gate and got out of the car to admire the view. The fields sloped down from the road into a broad and shallow valley before climbing up again to spill out of sight over the horizon. What made it so special was that you could gaze along the whole scene, dotted here and there with copses and small groups of cows and sheep, with rooks and swifts drifting and darting overhead, and not see a single sign of human activity or habitation.

"It's fantastic," I exclaimed in wonder. "How many places are left in England where you can see a view like this?"

"It's beautiful isn't it," she smiled as she squeezed my arm. "And do you know what?" she added, "You can take your clothes off and piss for as long as you want and nobody ever sees you."

"How do you know?" I laughed.

"Because I've done it lots of times," she grinned, "And not squatting down out of sight behind a bush all prim and proper and ladylike either; but standing up right here next to the road and seeing how far down the field I can pee."

"OK, I'll challenge you," I grinned back at her. "We'll see who can go furthest and longest."

"You're on," she giggled excitedly as we rushed to strip off down to our plimsolls.

We climbed over the fence and stood naked next to each other with our backs to the fence and facing into the field. We held ourselves in for as long as possible to build up as much initial pressure as we could before letting go. I expected an easy victory but she was full of surprise as usual. Through long practice she had learned to manipulate herself in such a way that she could project her stream a considerable distance which I had to push myself hard to exceed. Having secured the distance honours I then had to fight off her determined challenge for the endurance prize. She gave me a hard contest but she finally faltered and her flow fell away to a dribble only a couple of seconds before mine.

"Fix, she giggled as she slapped my buttock. "It's all that coffee you drank after lunch."

"Beat you fair and square," I laughed as I patted her bare bottom in riposte.

She was undiminished in her double defeat. "If you've ever wanted a girl on the bonnet of your car, now's your chance," she giggled.

Without further ado I helped her onto the bonnet while she lay back and hoisted her legs up to rest them on my shoulders and gripped the sides of the car as I entered her and gave her a good servicing. It felt fantastic to be fucking the loveliest woman I had ever known, out in the open in such a beautiful place and in such gorgeously warm and sunny surroundings, in complete abandon and without a care in the world. It was one of the most joyous fucks I had ever experienced as I pushed against her legs, thighs and pelvis and her body slid up and down on the bonnet and her white plimsolled feet waved lazily up and down in time with my thrusts into her. I knew that she felt the same way because as her orgasm overcame her she screamed at the top of her voice "This is so fucking WONDERFUL!" and clenched me as hard as she could. She ground every last bit of pleasure from me as I continued to shaft her and when my climax came I thought I'd never stop pumping into her in my convulsive delight as my body rippled in my passion and her body undulated and her breasts heaved in her ecstasy below me.

After a minute or so to recover I hugged her off the bonnet and set her on her feet on the ground so we could clean up and get dressed. I was back into my briefs and shorts and was pulling on my shirt when I noticed that she was still naked and smiling at me.

"You're not thinking of going back to London like that are you?" I laughed.

"Have you got the nerve to drive into London with me naked and tied up and gagged on the back seat of your car?" she smiled challengingly at me.

"Well I'd love to do that," I replied, trying not to let show my taken aback state. "But there is the small consideration of not wanting to be arrested on suspicion of kidnap and rape."

"Oh come on, you can trust me," she cajoled. "I promise that if the cops find me I'll say straight away it was my idea. I promise I won't drop you in it, honest truth."

"And you'll be covered up?" I still wasn't entirely sure about it.

"Dur! Like it's meant to be a kidnap, right?" she put her hands on her hips and her head on one side as she gave me a withering look.

"Oh come then you mad bitch, get your hands behind your back," I grimaced.

She leaned against the car while I used the strong tape I kept in my travelling car maintenance kit to bind her hands behind her back. I used the tow rope to truss up her upper body before laying her on her back on the back seat and using more tape to bind her ankles, knees and thighs. Before I used a length of tape to gag her she said to me, giggling,

"Can I have a courgette to play with?"

"You mean...one of those...up there?" I said to her as I glanced first at the bag of courgettes and then at her feminine glory.

"Yes please and make it a big one."

"My aim is always to please," I laughed as I gagged her before choosing a splendid specimen from the bag. She made a muffled groan of delight as she beheld my choice and moaned long and loudly as I carefully inserted it into her. She was still making rhythmic high pitched mmphs of pleasure as I blindfolded her with a final length of tape and covered her over with the car blanket. I had just got into the driver's seat and fastened the safety belt when around the corner of the road appeared a tractor pulling a trailer.

"I thought you said nobody ever came down here," I shouted back to her when it had disappeared around the next corner. Her muffled reply may have been 'There's always a first time for everything' but I really couldn't be sure.

I drove back to the main road and did a few more miles of country driving before getting onto the motorway. If I had at all been expecting that it would be a quiet journey with Emma naked in her white plimsolls and ankle socks and tied up and gagged and blindfolded on the back seat while pleasuring her self on a large courgette I would have quickly had to revise any such expectation. For long periods all I could hear was her muffled moans, squeals and gasps of pleasure which gave me such a hard on that it was difficult to operate the car's pedals. Then now and again she would dispel the sexually charged atmosphere by bursting into muffled hummed renditions of traditional travellers' songs like 'One man went to mow', 'Ten green bottles', 'She'll be coming 'round the mountain' and 'It's a small world after all'.

We carried on like that until we reached the edge of London and the traffic gradually slowed to a stop-start progress. Then the problems started. She stopped humming inane tunes and began a repeated pattern of mmphing sounds that I finally managed to interpret as "I need the toilet." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. We were closely surrounded by several lanes of slow moving traffic full of people able to observe every move I made.

"How can you need the toilet again after what you got rid of earlier on? And how am I going to get you into one in the state you're in?" I hissed at her, hoping that nobody in the vehicles around us would realise I was talking to an unseen person and think I was on day release from the funny farm. "That bloody courgette has buggered up your continence. Make sure it stays up there and if you piss on my back seat I'll dump you on the hard shoulder and leave you, so help me."

She responded by mmphing even more insistently. Then the worst happened, the traffic came to a complete standstill and a minute later I saw a traffic policeman approaching as he had a quick word with each driver in turn.

"For fuck's sake don't make a sound and don't move a muscle, there's a cop coming this way," I warned her. She went silent. I opened the window as the policeman approached.

"Is there a hold up ahead?" I asked him, desperately hoping on the one hand that there was to divert attention from me and on the other hand wondering how long Emma would have to hold on with her overfilling bladder.

"We're just moving a jackknifed lorry off the road at this moment, Sir," replied the policemen with a smile. "You should be on the move again in about five minutes."

"OK, thanks," I said in relief. He was on the point of moving on to the next car when he turned to me again and said, "By the way Sir, is your friend alright?"

"Sorry?" I stonewalled, trying desperately not to give away my rising panic.

"Your friend, Sir, on the back seat?" he persisted.

I had the presence of mind not to look back. "Oh him," I said smiling as nonchalantly as could. "Junior doctor, just come off a couple of weeks of nights, sleep pattern's all over the place still."

"Tell me about it," he chuckled and parted with a cheery "Mind how you go, sir."

With a deep breath of relief I closed the window and glanced at the back seat to find out how the policemen had known there was someone rather than something under the blanket, to discover that Emma had pushed her feet out from under the blanket so her white plimsolls could just be seen up to the beginnings of her ankles. If she had pushed them out a little more her tightly taped together ankles would have been in plain view. I was furious with her.

"Get your fucking feet back under that bloody blanket before I smother you under it," I hissed at her through gritted teeth. She didn't make a sound but I was sure the blanket was shaking

My heart was still pumping as we began to move again but the pressure literally built up even more as Emma's mmphing became desperate. "Hold on for five more minutes and you'll be OK," I assured her. Soon I saw our salvation. Next to the road appeared a huge derelict industrial estate that was soon to be redeveloped. Telling her again and again to hold on just a little longer I turned into the main access road, drove over a couple of intersecting roads and turned left into the third road that ran between deserted and decrepit industrial units until we were invisible from the main road. In a matter of seconds I was out of the car, cutting through the tape bindings on her legs with scissors I kept in the glove compartment, pulling her by her shoulders out from the back seat and manhandling her a short distance from the car. I made her squat down and as soon as I pulled the courgette from her twat she turned a huge spread of dusty grey tarmac deep grey with her outflow. All the while her tightly trussed and naked body shook with her muffled laughter through her gag.

When she had emptied her fill I guided her back to the car and bent her face down over the bonnet while I took off her blindfold and gag and untied her. She continued to laugh and giggle helplessly and in spite of myself I found myself laughing with her.

"We're back in London now so I've done my bit. Now for fuck's sake get dressed and let me get you home before you cause any more trouble," I smiled.

"Get yourself another girlfriend if you want a quiet life," she giggled as she stepped her white plimsolled feet daintily through her g-string and pulled it up.

"You've ruined me for any other girl," I smiled as I kissed the back of her neck and fixed her into her bra.

"Let's have a stir fry when we get home. We can have courgettes with it." she grinned as she eased her bottom snugly into her denim shorts.

"Certainly not that one," I grimaced at her late vegetarian sex toy lying in the centre of the darkened patch of tarmac as I handed her blouse to her.

We rejoined the slow moving stream of traffic on the main road and sang a few dozen choruses of 'On Ilkley Moor', just for fun.

The courgettes were delicious.