English Pub Landlady Ep. 13

"I think that I'd like that and I'm bloody certain they would," he said.

Craig returned to the bus and told the boys that he had a treat for them. As they walked in none of them could believe their luck. They had spent all evening unsuccessfully trying to find a woman to fuck and now here was one trust up and oven-ready.

When men have had too much to drink they can be a bit unpredictable. Some get amorous, some get lecherous, others get sleepy and a few don't keep control. That was what I was there for.

Two of the lads made straight for Glenda with their cocks ready for action. I don't think it was their finest work but they managed to give her what she was expecting. Because of the drink, some of the others needed a little encouragement.

I spend the next twenty minutes or so on my knees sucking dicks and stroking bollocks to get them ready for action. All the time Harry sat watching me. Eventually, he started to walk towards Glenda undoing his flies as he went.

"Oh no you don't," I said, "you're not invited. In any case I will need your services when we get home."

Without breaking stride he changed direction, doing up his trousers as he went.

When all of his mates had fucked his fiancé, Craig had a go. He couldn't disguise his pride. Harry then rounded everyone up and steered them out to the bus.

I switched off the milker and unstrapped Glenda.

"I wish that he had the Stag Do on Friday night," she said.

A bit surprised, I said, "Why is that?

"I would really really love to walk down the aisle with all this spunk still in my knickers," Glenda replied.

"You dirty girl. In church on Saturday your fanny will be showered, powdered and as fresh as a daisy," I told her.

"As usual, you're probably right. But until then I'm keeping it in," she grinned.

"Don't forget, you're staying at my place until you walk to the church. If I catch Harry sniffing around your backside there will be trouble."

"I don't get why Craig can't see me before the wedding," Glenda said.

"It's the tradition, that's why," I said.

"If we both wore blindfolds, would it be OK if he just shagged me once tomorrow?", she asked.

"No!"

-

By Saturday Glenda was in a right state. Rita and I nearly had to tie her down to stop her panicking. The ceremony wasn't until 3 o'clock so we had plenty of time. We made her eat breakfast. Then she had a long soak in the bath.

The hair and make-up ladies came at noon.

We had Helen dressed and ready by two-thirty. Then she was allowed to sit a little back at an upstairs window so that she could watch the guests arrive.

As soon as Craig and Brian went into the church she wanted to go.

"You are not leaving this pub until five minutes past three at the earliest," I told Glenda.

"Tradition?" she said.

"Tradition," I said.

At five past three, we could hold her no longer.

We got her down to the bar, where Jem was waiting. Smoothing out her dress Rita and I made the final adjustments.

Jem kissed his mother on the cheek and told her she looked beautiful. It was almost as if someone had been coaching him.

He offered her his arm and I threw back the double pub doors. They emerged into the sunlight to a round of applause from the few village residents who hadn't managed to squeeze into the church.

Glenda and Jem walked arm in arm the fifty yards or so across the square to the door of the church. Rita and I followed closely behind like two clucking hens.

They stopped in the porch. When we had finished preening we opened the door a bit and scuttled down to our seats.

A few minutes later the organ burst into the Wedding March, the doors swung open and everyone turned to get their first glimpse of the bride.

Jem was proud to be giving his mother away, Glenda was gorgeous, Craig was proud, Rita was crying, I was crying too.

The Vicar welcomed everyone.

We sang 'Jerusalem'; which delighted the W.I. ladies.

Glenda and Craig exchanged rings and vows.

The Vicar spoke about love.

Then we sang 'Linden Lea'. It wasn't a hymn but the Vicar said the words were written by the Reverend William Barnes, the Dorset Poet, and they summed up the spiritual essence of Dorset. I cried again.

Finally, Craig led his new bride out of the church.

Everyone agreed that it was a wonderful old fashioned country wedding.

-

About two dozen people had been invited to the sit down event in the barn with everyone else in the village invited to the evening thing.

The caterers did a great job.

Jem made a speech, in place of the father of the bride. Then Craig made a speech as the bridegroom. As his best man it was Brian's duty to make a speech that flattered Glenda, which both flattered and embarrassed Craig and made everyone laugh. He did a good job. Some of his jokes were terrible and some were just downright filthy.

There was the usual lull between the formal bit and the evening bit. The ladies sat outside gossiping over pots of tea. The gentlemen played darts. When anyone threw badly, all of the others took the piss. When anyone threw well all of the others took the piss. They all desperately wanted to win. But, as tradition dictated, if they did win they were required to pretend that they weren't that bothered. Suggesting that you were lucky always went down well.

It is ingrained in every Englishman that being a bad winner is far worse than being a bad loser and being a bad loser is really not the done thing.

Rita, Imogen and I took Glenda into the farmhouse to change out of her wedding dress and into an outfit more suitable for the evening. She and Craig would be spending the night in the historic King's Arms in Dorchester so they would be ready for a quick getaway. The next day they would be moving on to the Palace Hotel in Paignton. They would be staying there for a week. Evidently, you can take a steam train from there down to Kingswear then take the ferry across to Darmouth followed by a river cruise and return journey by train.

As Glenda so romantically put it, "I've always wanted to be fucked on the Orient Express."

Neither she nor Craig have a passport so I booked this as the next best thing. I left them to make their own arrangements as regards the sex.

Jem was going to be in total charge of the farm while they were away. Craig told him that he has the utmost faith in him. He didn't tell him that Farmer Norman and Brian were going to look in on him every day.

-

I had a local band booked for the evening and the caterers were returning to do an evening buffet. They were taking care of the bar as well. Rather reluctantly, they agreed that Geoffrey could help them. I definitely, definitely refused to allow Imogen to collect glasses.

The evening started slowly but soon warmed up when the band began to play. Glenda and Craig had the first dance to 'Truly, Madly, Deeply'. Then everyone else joined in, even Ted and old Tom were up there.

Trev and Jem danced with the primary school teachers, Jules and Stacey. They had both been invited to the wedding but would only come if the boys were there. It looked as if Stacey was with Jem. She was a delicate little thing. Jules was far more robust looking which probably wasn't a bad thing if she was going out with Trev. The girls had taken the flat above the village shop and were model tenants.

At one point Craig winked at Jem and said, "How you going with that one?"

"Early days, early days," said Jem. The boy was maturing nicely.

As well as the usual pop tunes, the band slipped in a couple of tunes by the Yetties and even a few Wurzels numbers from 'north of the border'. The guests loved it.

Occasionally, one of the men would whisper something in Brian's ear and he grinned.

A nice touch was the party games that took place later. These included a hilarious version of Musical Chairs where the chairs had men on them and the women charged around before sitting on their laps when the music stopped. All good clean fun.

Everyone agreed it was just like the old fashioned weddings they all knew and loved.

Now and then a man would whisper something in Brian's ear and he would just grin.

At about ten some of the W.I. ladies and their husbands started to drift away. Harry was on hand with the minibus and chauffeur's cap to drive anyone who needed it. Alice and Lis made a special point of thanking me. I think that they knew that weddings don't organise themselves.

Later in the evening I could see different men walk up to Brian and whisper something in his ear and point towards the door. Every time a big grin would appear on his face. Rita spent increasingly more time out of the barn than in it. Not to be left out, Imogen and Helen started doing the same thing. There were plenty of outbuildings on the farm but I suspect they didn't make it that far. Claud and Jane had a friend of Craig's and were pulling him doorwards.

I tutted at the behaviour of the brazen sluts but then Craig's friend Archie took me by the hand and led me outside and shagged me behind a tractor. I got back to the barn just as the limousine arrived to take Glenda and Craig to the hotel. I had to go round ringing the Wheater's bell to persuade everyone to come and see them off.

Glenda and Craig had spent the whole evening dancing a slow dance; regardless of what the band was playing. Now, she was on a mission to kiss everyone goodbye. There was a lot of backslapping for Craig. They both made a point of thanking me, which was nice.

After that, Harry did a great job of ferrying people home. Eventually, it was only me and the caterers left. Unlike them, I didn't have to clear up.

All in all, it was probably the best wedding I'd ever organised.