English Pub Landlady Ep. 07

It was mid December. I was just contemplating when I should put some greenery around the bar. Maybe in another week I could hang some pine boughs and Ivy. Obviously, I wouldn't allow any Holly indoors before Christmas Eve. I tended to keep the decorations traditional. Just evergreens and candles. Pine cones to burn on the fire are always lovely too. The Mistletoe can be a problem. I have to be careful where I hang it. I don't want to get ambushed again this year. If it's put where it can be reached some wag will want to hang a bit on his belt. They all think that that's hilarious.

We always close the pub on Christmas Day. Harry and I get invited to spend Christmas lunch with one of the local farming families. I supply the drink and it means I don't have to cook. I make sure that the farmer's wife gets an extra secret Santa gift to open later. Usually something to spice up her Chtistmas but that the farmer would never dare buy her.

Christmas Eve and Boxing are busy days. I make a special effort and put out nuts and crisps on the bar and tables. One year, against Harry's advice, I put out olives too. You'd think I was trying to poison them.

Just as we were going to bed Harry said, "I told you so." A big mistake on his part. I made him stand still while I wacked his erection a few times with a slipper. Then I made him shag me. I'm still not sure if he realised it was supposed to be a punishment.

Anyway, while I was giving thought to the Yuletide, Harry came up the stairs. "There's some woman called Imogen at the door. She wants to speak to you so I told her to wait in the bar," he said.

I thought for a moment. I wasn't totally surprised. She didn't strike me as the sort of woman to go away quietly.

"Harry, could you make yourself scarce for an hour or so?"

He thought that if he went up to the Golf Club he may find some chap to play around with. I've been married to him for a long time and I never once suspected that Harry had bisexual tendencies.

I waited for ten minutes or so and then went down to the bar. "Ah, the bad penny! What do you want?" I asked Imogen.

"I apologise but I just can't get the book out of my mind. There must be some other ritual that you are prepared to share with me. I don't want to make threats but..." she said.

"I thought that it may eat away at you so I've had it all put on DVD. Would you like to see it?"

"I am not entirely sure what you mean but I would die to see it!" she exclaimed.

"You'd better come upstairs," I said, desperately resisting the temptation to offer her a drink.

In the lounge I gestured towards an armchair. I switched on the TV and the other thingy. Imogen cleaned her spectacles.

On the screen there appeared the view from the hay-loft at Ewe Tree Farm. You could clearly see a woman in a gothic black leather costume strapped to some sort of device. Close by was a queue of seven men who all appeared to be Boris Johnson. Behind them was a weedy yokel in a smock. A figure wearing a black cloak and hood stood close by.

The scene changed to the front view of what was obviously Imogen's face and tits, complete with milking cups. A shadowy figure moved behind her and her expression changed to one of delight as he moved backwards and forwards.

Now the camera angle went to a position looking up from ground level between her feet towards where two sets of genitals were colliding. It then changed to a side view which showed Boris really getting into his stride.

Now the picture divided to allow all four views to be seen at the same time. The first Boris was replaced by another. The simultaneous moment of entry and the expression on Imogen's was awesome.

"OK, you can stop it. I get the message," said Imogen.

"No, I think we'll leave it running while we negotiate," I replied.

"I could send a copy of this to the Museum. I'm sure that everyone there would like to study it carefully from a research point of view."

"Although, my technical advisor tells me that it would be just as easy to put it on the interweb thing. We could add a caption stating your name and where you work. That way you would get lots of volunteers to help with your reenactments."

In reality my technical advisor was Mucky Melvin. He runs a home security business in the next village. The high definition micro cameras were supplied by him and he also kindly did the editing. They call him Mucky Melvin because he used to do a sideline in porn DVDs but he says nobody wants them anymore.

There is no way that I would ever ruin anyone's life by releasing any of this material. I made sure that Melvin destroyed the masters. But Imogen didn't need to know that.

Imogen said, "I suppose you'll do that if I don't become a sex slave and get strapped to The Hoss to be abused by lots of men."

I replied, "Now hold your horses. You're the one making threats. And I think that your fantasies are getting the better of you."

"What I am proposing is that you and Geoffrey do some work for me."

"In the pub we have a special night on New Year's Eve. I want Geoffrey to work behind the bar and I want you to take the drinks to the customers' tables and collect the glasses. On the night I will give you your uniform, which you must wear, and I will tell you exactly what your duties are."

"If you perform well then we can talk about making the DVD go away. Do you agree?"

She looked a little disappointed but she agreed. I sent her on her way.

NOTE TO THE COLONIES. If you ever visit the cradle of civilization, I don't want you to get the impression that you can just sit in an English pub and have drinks brought to your table. I am told that it may happen in places that serve food but it is definitely not normal. I could write a whole chapter on English pub etiquette and customs but as hardly anyone gets fucked you may not be interested.

-

Christmas passed pleasantly enough. This year we had lunch with Farmer Brian and his lovely wife Rita. It was quite a mixed gathering. As well as Rita and Brian, Rita's older cousin Glenda was there with her son Jem. Brian is in his late forties while Rita is about ten years younger. She is a very likeable girl. To augment the farm income Rita does my cleaning in the pub every morning.

As it happens, I am Glenda's landlord. Not in a pub sense but more in the fact that not long after I purchased the ******** Inn, I bought another property in the village. The deal also included the little flat above it that Glenda rents. She doesn't know it as I use an agent. I do keep an eye on things from a distance to ensure repairs are done quickly. Despite the agent's advice, I have never increased the rent. You have to be mindful of people's dignity in the country. I would love to help her more but that could be viewed as charity. I'm sure she would rather die than accept that.

Jem is in his early twenties and is Glenda's only child. I don't think that there has ever been a father around. Glenda has given her whole life to bringing him up. She does absolutely everything for him. She has often done two jobs to make ends meet. Rita tells me that she has had the occasional admirer but that things have never worked out because Jem didn't like it. I'm sure that a lot of men would find her attractive. She is slightly shorter than Rita, and while she is not fat she definitely doesn't have any sharp edges.

Much to Jem's disgust, Glenda had more than enough to drink and was getting very playful with Brian, trying to tickle him and make him laugh.

Rita whispered to me, "It's a pity Jem's here, otherwise I could have got Brian to give her one. She'd like that." We both had a fit of the giggles.

Rita and I debated whether one of us could keep Jem occupied in the barn while Brian sorted Glenda out but we decided that it may be inappropriate at Christmas: particularly as neither she nor I could walk in a straight line at the moment. So we had another drink and carried on talking smut.

Jem doesn't drink. On his eighteenth birthday his mates had got him so drunk that he had to be taken to hospital. Since then he won't touch it. I've never ever seen him in my pub. The only time Glenda gets to let her hair down is at my New Year's Eve party. Last year some of the blokes had fingered her under the table, which I think that she appreciated.

Brian decided to retaliate and started tickling and groping Glenda. She giggled and squealed. Trying to get away she tumbled onto Harry, who had fallen asleep during the Queen's Speech. Once he realised where he was, he joined in with tickling and groping Glenda, mostly groping. Screeching and laughing hysterically Glenda shook all over. Both Brian and Harry tried to stop her tits from shaking by getting hold of them, which made Glenda screech and laugh even more.

I thought, "If she pees her pants Jem is going to die of embarrassment."

The whole day went really well. Rita was pleased with the lingerie that I gave her. Occasionally, when we've chatted as she worked, she has mentioned that she loves Brian but that he can't keep up with her sexual appetite and she finds it frustrating. Funny, but I've heard him say the same sort of thing in the pub. Like a catholic priest, a doctor or a solicitor what is said between a customer and a landlady is highly confidential; so forget I told you.

I invited Rita, Brian and Glenda to our New Year's Eve get together.

-

Imogen and Geoffrey arrived early in the evening. Harry taught him the finer points of pint pulling and drink serving. Geoffrey was a bit concerned about handling money and giving out change. Like all clever blokes he didn't have a lot of common sense. Harry just laughed and told him that he couldn't remember the last time anyone had actually paid for a drink on New Year's Eve.

I whisked Imogen upstairs and showed her what I had picked out for her to wear. It

consisted of a short kilt style skirt, a black suspender belt and black nylon stockings with Impossibly high stiletto heeled black shoes. Imogen said, "I don't think that my knickers will go with this."

"Best leave them off then," I said.

"Take off your top and bra," I commanded.

I threw her a black sheer vest that you could see right through. It had very large armholes which would expose the side of her boobs.

As she pulled it on she said, "I will look like a street walker in this outfit."

"Exactly the look I was aiming for. Now just explain to me what you will say if anyone touches you inappropriately," I asked.

"Get off!" she said.

"Definitely not. You will say 'Thank You'. Do you understand?" I said.

"I suppose so," she answered.

"I want you to stay upstairs until 9 o'clock. Then you will move around the bar area smiling, collecting empty glasses and delivering drinks to the tables. Do you think that is within your capabilities?" I said patronisingly.

-

The evening was going well. The place was absolutely packed. Geoffrey took to pint pulling like a duck to water. The old upright piano had been dusted off and people were singing all of the old songs. Songs that had been popular before most of them were born. Wartime songs, music hall songs, even some modern songs from the 60s. I had gone right over the top with the catering this year. As well as crisps and nuts there were bowls of pork scratchings and Twiglets on every table.

The log fire was roaring and smelt of pine cones. Everyone was smiling and having a great time. Initially, Rita and I were the only women in the bar. She was sitting between Brian and the Vicar. He kept whispering things in her ear which made her giggle. I was passing from table to table mingling with customers and getting touched up.

When Imogen came into the room and started collecting glasses, I took a seat at the bar where I could keep an eye on my empire. It didn't take the naughty boys long to realise that she was there to be interfered with. When she thanked them for doing it, that only encouraged them more. She had her nipples pinched and her pussy strokes every time she lent over a table. Once or twice someone had their fingers right in her. As instructed she didn't try to get away. I don't know who was enjoying it most, her, the customers or Geoffrey. He appeared to take great pleasure in watching his wife being manhandled.

At about ten, Glenda walked into the bar. Unused to her new strappy shoes, she doddled over and perched on a stool next to me. "Blimey," she said, "things are kicking off already."

"Well I did warn you that the party would be a lot dirtier this year. Don't forget, if you're uncomfortable with anything, you can escape upstairs."

"God no, if I don't get fucked soon, I swear my fanny will heal up," she said.

After a while Glenda found a place between two blokes on a bench seat in the corner. I gestured to Imogen to get her a drink. One of the men immediately suggested that Glenda got her tits out. She declined but compromised by undoing her blouse fully to reveal a rather nice black lace bra which did little to conceal her amble nipples.

"Good girl," I thought, "if you're a woman of limited means and you've invested in impractical underwear you want to make bloody sure it's seen."

When Imogen delivered Glenda's drink to the table the naughty boys encouraged her to stroke Imogen's nipples. She giggled as she put her hand in the armhole, brushed and then pulled one quite hard.

I glanced across to see if this horseplay was OK with Rita only to find that the Vicar had his hand in her drawers and was making circular movements with his fingers. She had a look on her face as if she was far far away. Brian made eye contact with me and grinned broadly. Then I could see that he had his hand in her blouse and was rolling her left nipple between his fingers.

As the clock approached midnight I made my way to the door. At the stroke of twelve I slipped the bolts closed.

We definitely don't allow that Scottish song, before you ask.

By the time I'd kissed some of the customers and wished them a Happy New Year, Rita had old Tom on the floor and was lowering herself onto his cock. To keep her balance she had hold of two other dicks, one of which belonged to Harry. Brian stood in front of her with his prick in her mouth. Her blouse was undone and he was gripping her nipples firmly as she bounced up and down.

"She was quick off the blocks," I thought.

Glenda had removed her blouse and pulled one of her bra straps right down. She was breastfeeding some bloke as he lay across her lap. His cock was in her hand and she was pulling on it frantically.

The Vicar had Imogen bent over a table and was releasing his weapon from his trousers. I couldn't believe it. Apart from being really hard it also had a considerable bend in it. I thought, "So it must have been him in the barn that day,"

He had to push it a long way downward in order to get it upwards into her snatch. When he started to hump her she began crying but I really don't think she was feeling any pain. It sounded as if she was enjoying it as much as I had.

Geoffrey who was still behind the bar was jumping up and down at the pure excitement of seeing his wife being fucked.

After a little thought, I went round and flopped myself over the bar so that Geoffrey could shag me while we were both able watch Imogen getting used. At one point he stopped and started to step back slightly. "It's just fine where it is, young man", I said quickly.

"Sorry," he replied.

Rita's group of friends had rearranged themselves so that she was bouncing on a different cock. Old Tom was now having a turn with Imogen's rump.

"You're going well Tom," I called.

"Them blue pills," he shouted back.

"Where did you buy those?" I said.

"I didn't. Someone gave me them."

"Typical," I thought.

After Geoffrey had finished with me, I moved around the bar. Acting the good hostess and allowing various customers to grope me and to slip their fingers into my spunky fanny while I bent down to talk to others.

By this time Glenda was laying on her back on the bench with her stockinged ankles over the man's shoulders. He was removing any cobwebs from her snatch. The look of pure joy on her face made the whole evening worthwhile. I was glad to see that she hadn't wasted any money on knickers.

I encouraged everyone to take advantage of the girls as soon as they became available.

Some said they would prefer to have a go with me, some others were happy to watch and wank.

Ted, ever the gentleman, asked if would mind if he gave Rita one instead of me. Evidently, he had always had a thing for her. I told him that I was mortified but I would overlook it this time.

Everytime I looked at Glenda she was in exactly the same position, new stilettos pointing at the ceiling, but with a different pair of bollocks slapping against her soft ass each time. The one liberated tit was thrashing back and forth with every stroke. I hoped that the other one, that was still enclosed in lace, wasn't chafing as it tried to escape. Not that Glenda would have cared.

No one was keeping score but I guessed that Glenda, Rita and Imogen were getting a lot more fucking than me and I was getting plenty.

Eventually, the party started to slowly break up. Some men just couldn't give anymore, others thought that they could but I knew it wouldn't be any time soon.

-

I'd told Geoffrey and Imogen that they were to stay in one of our spare rooms. I didn't want them travelling at that time of night. I also invited Rita and Brian to do the same. Rita pulled me to one side and said, "Do you think that you could put the Vicar up for the night too?"

I replied, "He only lives across the square but if that's what you want he can have the box room."

She put her arms around me and kissed my cheek, "Thank you. I've had a lovely time but I have plans for him later tonight."

I offered to put Glenda up too but she insisted that she had to get home for Jem. It was less than 30 yards away across the street. She would have been home quicker if she hadn't had to come back for her handbag.

I woke up at about 3am and could hear Geoffrey and Imogen going at it. I hoped she was taking it up the ass for his sake. I suspected that the Vicar's bed wouldn't need making in the morning as I thought I could hear either him or Brian ministering to Rita.

-

The next morning I started to walk into the kitchen when I heard mens' voices. I just held back and peeped around the corner to see Harry, Brian and Geoffrey seated at the table with mugs of coffee and a plateful of toast and Marmite. "I bet that's going to be a scintillating conversation," I thought.

Harry said, "Where did the Vicar go? And what was going on with your three?"

"Oh, he snuck out early before anyone spotted him," said Brian.

"He had been whispering dirty things in Rita's ear all night. Something he had talked to her about really appealed to her and she was desperate to try it. He crept into our room after we went up. He said that she knew what to do. Rita lifted the sash window and stuck her head and tits out. I just sat there and watched him shafting her from behind as her tits swung like the pub sign in a storm. She said it was exciting not knowing if anyone saw her."

"Sounds like she had a good night," said Harry.

"She was quite a revelation. But an even bigger one was that I really love to see my wife being fucked," replied Brian.

"Yes, there's nothing like it," added Geoffrey.

Harry said, "You're right there."

Brian went on, "I think that she was had by about half the men in the village last night. I'd really love to see the other half have her. Do you think I could put an advert in the pub window, Harry?"

"It may be better to have a word with my missus. She may come up with a plan that's a bit more subtle," mused Harry.

About once every ten years Harry says something sensible.