A Veil of Sky, A Bed of Earth

Their argument was curtailed by a sudden bright flash of light in their rear-view mirror and a car passed them slowly and then pulled up on the other side of the road about a hundred meters further down.

"Ey-up," said Ted nudging his wife, "Game on. Volvo X90. You're going up-market tonight."

He flashed his lights twice at the car ahead. "What we up for?"

Brenda lent forward and turned the inside lights on -- the community-agreed signal for watching only, but it confirmed that fun was available after the light flash. "Let's get a proper look at t' fella before we commit."

The door of the Volvo opened and a guy stepped out. It was difficult to see clearly, but he was tall, with short hair and wearing a business suit.

"Yeah, alright," said Brenda. She wound the wind half-way down -- the signal that oral sex on offer.

The man approached the van on Brenda's side. As he came closer, Ted could see that he was handsome and mid-thirties -- clearly a cut-above the usual crowd and he was certain then and there that things weren't going to end with just a blow-job. He came to the window and said "Evening."

Brenda gestured behind them. "In back."

Ted was about to take the keys out of the ignition, but Brenda stopped him. "Leave air-con on, eh."

They got out and Ted opened up the rear van doors. The men got on first and together they helped Brenda up. Ted and Brenda always argued about what she should wear. He wanted her to be sexy and she wanted not to freeze on the moors. After all, she'd said, no guy had ever turned down being sucked off because the lady came out in the wrong kind of top. He'd had to agree, but now they were in business, she immediately pulled it off to reveal a blouse that left a lot less to the imagination. She grabbed the stranger by the tie. "So my first question for you is if you are a doors open or a doors closed kind of a guy?"

The man looked at the doors of the van. It was a blowy evening, and he hesitated for a second. "I'm guessing you're a doors open kind of a girl or else you wouldn't be asking." There wasn't a wrong answer exactly, but Ted knew his wife like to live dangerously. This was one of the main dogging spots in Yorkshire and it wouldn't be long until other cars started coming along.

"Mmm, I like you already. Second question then. You open to being filmed? We've got a mask for those who are a little shy. The advantage of that is that hubby here will be too busy filming to join in and you'll get me all to yourself."

Ted wasn't initially sure he was going to go for it. The stranger sighed and said, "Okay. I get to review the footage afterwards and delete anything I don't like. Even with the mask, keep it away from my face and from the car. Sorry, but I'm a professional and can't risk my career with anything being discovered."

Ted reached into a bag at the back of the van and pulled out a cute bunny mask.

"Oh, adorable," the stranger remarked.

"Left over from Easter. It'll get the job done." He pulled out his phone. "Lights, camera and over to Brenda."

His wife shot him a dirty look. Fuck. He'd used her real name again. He'd get an ear-bashing for that later tonight, no doubt, but for the moment she turned back to their new friend with a smile. "Now let's see what we have to work wi' here, shall we."

They'd put a small gym mat down at the front of the van and was onto that that Brenda now sunk to her knees. She pulled the belt loose from the trousers and dropped them to the floor. His cock was already straining through his boxers and she gave it a good rub. Even confined, she could tell it was going to be magnificent. Sticking one finger on each hand to the elastic, she slowly pulled forward until the force of his erection pushed it out of his underpants.

"Oh, my! Where have you been all my life. No offense, honey." Brenda suddenly looked back at her husband.

Ted wasn't the jealous type, but most of the guys they'd met so far had been similar in physique to him, or at least comparable. This guy was exceptional. Still, 'Happy Wife, Happy Life' had served him well as a mantra these past few month, so he nodded to her. "It's okay."

Brenda apparently needed no more assurance and got to work on the largest cock of her life. Ted got to work filming it. Brenda had promised him a proper video-camera for his birthday. Who was she fooling? She got more enjoyment from their movies than he did. Until then though, he was stuck with just the phone, which was okay during the day, but rather more grainy with just the weak van light coming through the grate from the front. He also found it difficult to zoom in and out with the touch controls. He did the best he could.

Filming his wife blowing another, more masculine, guy turned him on. It was a strange thing to admit, but it was impossible to remain in denial as he found his own cock pushing out against his trousers. At forty-five, it could be argued that Brenda was well past her prime, but ever since she'd unleashed this wild side, he'd found her hotter than ever before. And so did all the other men, from what he could tell. Here she was, taking this huge cock all the way down inside her mouth without even breaking her rhythm. He remembered the first time she'd sucked him off, in the back of his old Ford Fiesta on the way back from Skegness after that weekend away. Then she'd been timid and nervous. Later on in their marriage, she'd been bored and the blowjobs had been dutiful at best. Now, she sucked him and everyone else off like a champion. It was a wonder to behold, and behold it he often did. And tried to capture it for posterity.

Suddenly, the stranger turned to look out of the van. He suddenly took his cock in his own hands, pushing Brenda off him. Brenda, surprised, followed his gaze. Ted also turned around, camera in hand.

Standing there right not six foot from the van doors was a girl who couldn't be more than twenty with long straight blonde and a heavy winter coat. She was holding the leashes of two big dogs, who were sniffing around the tires. She had a look of absolute amazement on her face.

"Oh, fuck," said Brenda, still on her knees.

The girl took one last look and them and then suddenly fled in the opposite direction, dragging the dogs after her. There was an awkward silence as the trio watched her disappear.

"Ok," said the stranger. "That was awkward. You think maybe we'd better call it an evening?"

"Not likely," said Brenda. "Still we can't stay here. You get back in your car and follow us. There's another spot that we know. On the positive side, no-one else will be there. On the negative side, no-one else will be there."

The guy nodded and did his trousers back up as well as he could around his still standing dick. He jumped back down from the back and headed back to the Volvo. Brenda wrapped her sweater around her shoulders and the couple set off in the van. They sat in silence as they drove to their alternate location.

Finally, Brenda broke the silence. "Who the fuck walks dogs this far into the moors in the dark?"

Ted tried to reassure her. "Don't worry. She won't go to the police. Who the hell would want to? And even if she did, it's a legal grey area, like we researched. They won't be arsed."

"Yeah, right," Brenda agreed. "But still, that's put me right off, it has. And him being such a find and all."

"Don't worry, you'll soon get the mood back. Just a bit of a shock is all. Look, how about here. This should be far enough in."

He pulled the van in to park. "So, you're fucking him right?" he asked.

Brenda looked up and snorted.

"Want to go bare?"

"You're mad, you," she said, but there was temptation there.

"I mean it. Let him fill you up wi' his spunk and I'll film it all dribbling out. You know you want to." Ted didn't know why he wanted her to do it so much, but he did.

"Yeah, well, want to and can do are two completely different things. Pass me those condoms from the glove compartment."

Ted complied and they got out for round two, or at least another crack at round one.

----------------------------------------------------

An hour later and the van was still in the same parking spot. Ted was standing just outside smoking a fag by the window and Brenda was watching a blow-by-blow playback of the footage on the phone.

"You're getting better," she remarked to her husband. "There's a lot more genitals and a lot less feet in this one."

Ted beamed with pride. "Well, keep it up and I'll take you to L.A. as the world's hottest new porn star. You want to post this one?"

"Sure, but we'd better edit it to take the girl out of it or else it might be her yer taking to L.A. Here, do you recognize her? I feel like I've seen her somewhere before." She handed her husband the phone through the window. Without taking the cigarette out of his hand, he scrolled a few seconds back through the video and let it play. She was only in the frame for little more than a second, but her face was partially illuminated in red by the van's brake lights. He played it again and tried to pause it exactly right. On the fourth go, he got it and looked at the screen thoughtfully.

"That bookstore - The one on the road south out of town. Girl behind the counter."

Brenda looked at him in surprise. "Colour me impressed. I've got cousins you still can't recognize after twenty-odd years of marriage. You musta fancied this one."

"Nah," said Ted, "She was a proper weirdo. I only remember her because we were buying that Doctor Who annual for your Susan's Norman and she kept me talking for ages about how it had never been as good after the fourth Doctor and I said 'What, Tom Baker?', and she didn't know who that was and it turned out she'd only ever read the novelizations. Barmy"

Brenda paused for a second. "That's right. And while that was going on, I was petting those two dogs they had by the fire-side. Oh fuck, it is her! She had those exact same dogs and all."

"Yeah," said Ted, "Well there's naught to be done about it now. She's not going to say anything. She's not going to remember us and if there is any trouble, at least we know where it's coming from."

He stubbed the butt of his cigarette out on the floor and came to back round into the front of the van. He propped the phone up on the dashboard and they watched the rest of the video in silence. There was little chance of any more action this evening, but they also weren't ready to go home quite yet.

About halfway through the second round, Ted had sat the phone-camera up on the divide between the cab and the back and joined in, railing his wife while she continued to suck off their partner for the evening. After that, they'd swapped places and, despite her earlier protestation, Brenda had pulled the condom off him about halfway through the fuck. He'd come in great spurts right inside her and as he did, Ted had come almost straight afterwards.

"Wait, watch that again," said Brenda.

"It was good, wasn't it?" said Ted who was particularly pleased with his art direction. Watching it was almost as much fun as doing it. Almost.

"No, ye ha'porth, just go back...There! See it?"

"No, what?"

"Over there in the top right. Something moved. Can ye zoom in?"

"Ye can wi' pictures. Wi' video. Let me see. There ye go. How's that?"

They watched the screen. They agreed that was some kind of movement in the bushes behind the van. They replayed it two or three times until they got the framing right.

"It's her!"

Ted squinted at the screen. "Is she naked?"

"She's got naught on from the shoulders up, that's for sure. She was watching us the whole time. How'd she even find us?"

Ted drummed his fingers on the dashboard. "Some windy roads around the moors and ye can see everything from up top. Not a lot of cars either. If she'd headed in a straight line and kept an eye out for us headlights, she could have kept track of us. She'd have to have been fairly moving and wade across the occasional stream, but she obviously got here in time. She'd didn't see whole thing, I'd wager, maybe just turned up for the finale."

Brenda bit her top lip. "Now, what in God's green is she up to?"

"I'll tell ye what. Looks like you've got a fan-club. Or, I dunno, an apprentice maybe?"

Brenda cycled the video back to the best shot of the girl and sucked air back through her mouth. "Tchh, chance'd be a fine thing."

"Come on. Let's call it a night. We'll stop for chips on way home."

3. The Tribute

The morning brought further discussion for Ted and Brenda and a couple of rewatches, but not a lot of decision about what, if anything, to do about their new stalker. They talked about dropping round the book-shop to check her out, but couldn't decide if any pretence more than buying a book on geraniums was necessary.

The girl was young and attractive, in her own way, and that brought its own problems. The average dogger had been around a bit and knew what was what. Making a move on this girl seemed more problematic and more likely to blow up in their faces.

In the end, she came to them -- almost immediately.

It was coming up to midday and Brenda was just starting to think about taking her lunch break from the shoe-shop when the girl came in. She was wearing a full, if rather plain, flowery dress, glasses and no make-up. She didn't come directly up to Brenda, but instead looked around a bit, seemingly focusing on the boots. Brenda's boss had opened up the shoe-shop ten-years ago with the intention of selling high-fashion ladies footwear, but had quickly found that what people, or tourists rather, wanted was footwear that could survive a week's hiking round the local hills. She'd tried sell a mixture of the two.

Brenda wasn't sure if she should approach her or not, but she paused for so long at a pair of riding boots that it would be inappropriate not to attempt some customer service. She wandered over.

"They're nice, aren't they? Would you like to try them on?" said Brenda.

The girl turned to face her. There was a flash of surprise, but her face quickly returned to normal, not showing any further signs of recognition. Could this really be just a chance shopping visit? If, so, how could she make the most of it?

"Oh, yes, thanks."

"What's your size, love? I can nip round the back and pull some out for you."

The girl was either naturally shy, or else didn't do a lot of shopping because it took her a fair while to stammer out her size, "A four, please."

Dainty, thought Brenda. They said that all the additives in modern food was making the average foot size bigger. She could well imagine this girl surviving on a diet of lentil soup and broccoli pasta. She certainly had a figure born of abstinence.

She fetched the boots from the storeroom and helped the girl put the boots on. She didn't normally find her day-to-day work particularly arousing, but a shiver of anticipation did run through her as she helped to tie the boots all the way up, getting a good look at and even a bit of a feel of those long shapely legs. Their experimentation hadn't included her with other women yet, but if Ted did every get lucky with this one, she'd be happy to keep the girl's engine revving while her husband refuelled. It'd be a treat for the both of them.

She snapped herself out of it. Professionalism first, at least while she worked out the lay of the land.

"Now, there we go. Do you want to have a walk around in them? They might feel a bit uncomfortable. New shoes always do, of course but that goes doubly wi' boots like these. You also have to be careful about what socks you wear underneath. Have the wrong ones and they can make the rubbing worse. We sell specially made ones by the counter, if you'd like."

The girl didn't respond immediately but walked up and down the shop testing the weight and feel. They really were good boots - largely practical with a low heel, but leather and calf was always a sexy combination and the long winding laces all the way up the front and the double buckles round the ankles flirted with ostentation. They weren't cheap, and Brenda wondered if she had the money for them. Not that that was a question she should highlight. The girl seemed so taken with them.

"Horse-rider, are we?" she asked.

"No, I was going hiking," the girl replied almost apologetically.

"Oh, well in that case, you do better with something a little shorter. We've got a good range of hiking boots. Not quite so feminine, but probably better for tramping through the mud."

"No," said the girl. "These are the ones I want."

As she began another lap of the shop, Brenda went with her. She saw an opportunity. "Where abouts were you planning on going hiking?"

"Oh, well, just around you know. The moors." It was annoyingly vague answer. Does she not know or does she not want to say? You'd expect more from a local girl. Still, it gave her an in.

"There's a lovely spot over by Linton Peak. A beautiful bit of woodlands, that -- secluded. My husband and I often go over there of an evening to enjoy the sights. We were thinking of going over there this evening, as it happens. There's a trail starting over at the supermarket that'll take you out of the town and round in a couple of hours. The bit I mean is about forty minutes along. Or else you can get to it if you turn left by Jones' Farm on the Leeds Road, you know, the one that sells those lovely turkeys at Christmas. Do you drive at all?"

"No," said the girl. Brenda had been very careful to phrase everything in a way that was wholly appropriate for an overly chatty shop-assistant. There was nothing she'd said that would seem out of the ordinary, but in the context of last night... The girl's face didn't indicate that she'd picked up on any of the subtext of her ramble on rambles or, indeed, that she particularly cared about hiking or what she and her husband got up-to at night.

"Ah, well," said Brenda. "What do you think?"

"How much?" said the girl.

That was the thing about women, Brenda mused. The price was right there. A man would never try on a pair of shoes he couldn't afford. A woman would spend half-an-hour umming and ahhing before she even looked at the price tag. She'd done it herself enough times, she knew. It made clothes shopping more fun. The little independent shop was not particularly known for its value for money. People who suddenly arrived on holiday short of the appropriate footware were often willing to pay through the toes for it. These boots were the most expensive in the shop and came in at close to three hundred pounds. She told the girl who looked crestfallen.

"Okay," she said. "I might come back in a week or so." Brenda doubted it. As the girl took the boots off and slipped her original sandals back on, Brenda saw something out of the corner of her eye in the shop window. The girl muttered one hurried final thanks and then left.

Her boss who'd been doing the books in the back came out. "You want your break now, Bren?" she asked.

"Hang on a sec," said Brenda still looking through the window. She leaned back on the counter and waited. After another minute, the boy who'd been hanging around outside came in. He was jumpier than anyone who just wanted a pair of Doc Martins had any right to be. He'd been watching through the window for a good five minutes, but had scooted out of the way just before the girl went out. Then he'd been straight back with his nose pressed up against the glass.

"Oh, hey. It's Maureen Blackley's lad, isn't it?" Brenda said in welcome. "Neville? How's your mam?"

Neville jumped like he'd was a burglar who just been caught breaking and entering. "Oh, hi. Err, yeah, she's fine. Knee still giving her a bit of trouble. Otherwise, she says 'mustn't grumble' and then grumbles. You know how she is."

"Ay, well, you probably don't remember me. Brenda Norris. We were in school together, your mam and me. When you see her say 'hi' will ya. Now what can I do you for today?"