English Pub Landlady Ep. 20

Just a word of warning. As with all my scribblings, this is not intended as a work of classic English literature. It's just me chatting to you about things that I feel you may like to hear. If this offends you, I suggest you try Jane Austen, Charles Dickens or Thomas Hardy.

I have absolutely no doubt that Dorset in Spring and Summer is the greatest place in the world. In Winter not so much so. Although we don't get really severe weather, the long grey days can be a little daunting. Having said this, those bleak days are what makes the Spring, Summer and Autumn so special. My favourite time is the period between St George's Day and St Wite's Day. The sense of renewal is everywhere.

At that time, Harry and I are able to make our first trips out and about. When we can, we visit out of the way carparks. I get my tits out and Harry gives them a work over. You probably recall, Harry is a master craftsman at squeezing, pulling and twisting my nipples until my drawers are soaking. Then he doesn't know if he's going to fuck me or simply wank himself off. This uncertainty only adds to the excitement, he believes.

Occasionally, we stumble across a man or a group of men hanging about in the hope of free sex. I usually let then take a turn fucking me. This doesn't happen on every trip. But like I say, that only adds to the excitement.

It's the ordinary that makes the unusual special.

That's why I take pleasure in the normal and everyday. The half empty midweek evenings in the pub are the things that give the Saturday Night lock-ins their magic. It's the rainy mid-winter nights that make the Summer days so fantastic.

-

"Do you fancy a shopping trip to Bristol?" Faith asked.

"Bristol? " I said.

"Yes, it's not the end of the world."

"I know but you can see it from there. I don't usually go that far north. What do they have in Bristol that they don't have in Bournemouth? I asked.

"Harvey Nichols for a start," replied Faith rather indignantly.

"They have a Harvey Nics? In that case, yes."

"Why don't we make it a two day event? I can book a nice hotel. I presume they have nice hotels." I added.

Faith gave me a frown of agreement.

I actually thought this was my idea. How wrong could I be?

-

Just lately, while Harry is off whacking his balls about, I have been visiting Ted at Yew Tree Farm.

Is my marriage in danger? No. But I have grown very fond of Ted.

He's getting on for seventy now but we always find things to talk about that we are both interested in. Like history and the world in general.

We both agree that if History and Geography teach us anything it is that we are fortunate to live in this place at this time.

Just in case you think it's some sort of highbrow discussion group, I always end up being strapped to the Hoss with Ted gently fucking me.

There's something comforting about it. Like an old sweater or a favourite pair of slippers.

The other day, Ted was panting a little while he undid the buckles. "Feeling your age are you Ted?" I said jokingly.

"Well I guess I am. I'm thinking of retiring," said Ted sadly.

I was shocked, "It still felt pretty stiff to me."

"From farming not fucking, you soft girl," he laughed.

I love it when he called me a girl.

"What, give up Yew Tree Farm. Your family has been here for hundreds of years," I said.

"That's just the point. If I wait until I drop down dead, hopefully while hanging onto your ass, it would go anyway."

"I could leave the farm to you or Vi but I don't think either of you would have any use for it," Ted continued.

"Are you going to sell it then?" I asked.

"No, not really. I've got a better idea."

"You know that Trev's girl, Jules, is expecting, don't you?" he said.

"Every woman in the village is talking about it. It's so exciting," I said.

"Well, I was thinking of giving the farm to them as a wedding present. Trev is a steady worker and Jules is quite clever. Regardless of whether they have a girl or boy, the farm would keep going for a generation or two," Ted said smiling.

"I've seen the scan and they are definitely having a boy. If hereditary comes into it, there's no doubt who the father is either," I chuckled.

"But where will you live?" I added.

"I own Rose Cottage in the village. It's been empty for a couple of years. I think I'll live there and do it up," he told me.

"What about money?"

"Don't you worry about that, I have more than enough," Ted said.

As an afterthought I enquired, trying to hide the panic in my voice, "And what will happen about the barn and the Hoss?"

Ted laughed, "Do not concern your pretty little head. I will make sure that your continued control of them is stipulated in the bequest."

-

I owe Bristol an apology. The City Centre and the Old City are lovely. I don't know about the rest of it. Like nearly every city in the world, it owes its very existence to the exploitation of human beings. You can't deny its history but you can't change it either. Today, it is a vibrant up and coming multicultural metropolis.

On a baser level, the shops are great too.

Faith managed to purchase all sorts of fancy undies to wear beneath her conservative Vicar's Wife clothes. I picked up a few things for myself.

We had a lovely meal at a great restaurant. Then Faith hit me with the real reason for our trip. I really should have guessed.

Glenda had told her about a 'health club' that she and Craig had visited. They have a sauna and steam room as well as a large jacuzzi. Faith had never been in a jacuzzi, or so she said. It was something she had always wanted to try.

The 'club' was above a Thai Massage Parlour and if anything it was even seedier than Glenda had described it. Faith thought that the fact that women and couples got in free was lucky. I wasn't so sure. The lady on the door informed us that, so far, it was a slow night; in fact we were among the first visitors.

I have never been self conscious about my body but I did try to hide at least some of me behind the tiny off-white towel that we were supplied with. Faith did the same. We headed towards the room marked JACUZZI. Fortunately, it was empty. I, for one, was quite relieved to slip below the bubbles.

The water was pleasantly warm. No matter where I sat on the ledge that circled the tub, at least one of the jets hit me from underneath. It didn't take me long to realise that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Faith sat alongside me and had independently come to the same realisation.

Occasionally, one of us would giggle as we found exactly the right angle to have our fanny sluiced out.

After about ten minutes we were joined by a couple of men who appeared to be in their fifties. They sat either side of us about a foot or so away. Nervously at first we both answered the questions that were put to us. You know the sort of thing, "Do you girls come here often? Are you both lesbians? If so, can we watch?"

We didn't ask them if they were gay as that would obviously be rude.

When two more slightly older blokes arrived, the first two moved closer towards us as if to reserve their spots. The one on my side had his thigh right against mine. I thought about budging close to Faith but I thought, "I've just got the jet where I want it."

I glanced at Faith and she looked as if she was standing her ground too. It was difficult to tell with all the bubbles but her right hand appeared to be stretched out to the side and was moving up and down in the water.

She wasn't wasting any time. So I reached to my left and located a moderately large erection which seemed to have its own jet of warm water bursting forth from underneath its testicles. Gripping the shaft midway up, I allowed my hand to be forced upwards by the rising water and then I pushed it down again. I let the bubbles do the same again and again. What a novel experience; semi automatic wanking.

My partner, if I can call him that, took this attention as an invitation to slip his hand between my legs. At first I was somewhat put out by the fact that he had interrupted the flow of aerated water to my snatch. But when he used two fingers to spread my vulva allowing the jet greater access to my clit, I forgave him.

Given the amount of time that I had spent with my fanny hovering over a volcano of frothing warm water, this novel development induced an almighty orgasm. As I shuddered I jerked on matey's cock. He came too. A cloud of stringy semen emerged through the bubbles in front of him and quickly dispersed.

He immediately made his way to the other side of the hot tub and turned to look back at me. I don't know if he'd suddenly lost interest or if it was some kind of 'sleaze club' etiquette but the other guy slid across to take his place alongside me.

Lost in the moment, I had taken my eyes off Faith. When I looked, the farthest bloke had her firmly gripped in a face to face embrace while the one she had been wanking was now shafting her from behind. His thrusting combined with the pumping of the jacuzzi gave the impression of a storm at sea. Giant tidal waves were crashing up Faith's arse and back and submerging her as they then engulfed her captor. There was a real danger that the amount of water on the floor would exceed that in the tub.

Faith looked as if she was successfully breathing between each tsunami so I guessed she was quite OK.

My new man didn't feel like he needed to wait for a written invitation. He slipped around in front of me. Sliding both hands under my buttocks he lifted them upwards. I desperately spread my arms out sideways and gripped the side of the tub to prevent myself from dropping below the waterline. Mr Presumptuous worked his way between my legs and scored an impressive direct hit on my snatch.

I know that cocks look bigger underwater but this one bloody felt bigger too.

He was now doing his best to add to the water on the floor. The bubbles were making my tits bob up and down in time with his fucking.

Why hadn't I tried this before? Could I get a hot tub in the pub garden? Would I even get a go if Rita, Glenda, Faith, Imogen and Helen knew about it? Would Jules think it was a new age place to have her baby?

My contemplation was interrupted by the approach of my second orgasm.

Just before it swept over me, my fucker took two sudden steps backwards still clutching my hips. It happened so quickly that I lost my hold on the side of the tub.

My head and upper body dropped beneath the foaming water. Even my tits couldn't keep me afloat. I can't swim but I did my best to hold my breath as I thrashed about desperately trying to get a hold on anything.

The guy was revelling in my distress as he carried on pumping me.

I don't know if he was trying to drown me or if he just didn't care. Never in my whole life had I felt like I was going to cum and die at the same time.

He banged and I splashed for what seemed like an eternity.

Just when my lungs gave me the impression they were going to burst, I felt a strong pair of arms under my back. I was lifted clear of the water.

As he got me steady, my rescuer lashed out and caught Mr Presumptuous clean across the jaw with the back of his hand. He then carried me to the edge and gently lowered me onto the floor. Soon, he was beside me, drying my face with a towel. I coughed up chlorinated water. Fortunately, I had managed to hold my breath just long enough to keep it from entering my lungs.

My knight in, I was going to say shining armour but he was bollock naked. Well, anyway it was the guy I'd wanked off. He knew the other asshole was unpredictable so he waited on the other side of the jacuzzi.

He told me that at first he wasn't sure if he should step in; these days you just don't know what turns a woman on. It soon became obvious that I wasn't enjoying the experience.

As soon as he was happy that I was OK, he just disappeared. "What a proper gentleman," I thought.

I had lain there for a few minutes when Faith bent over me. "Been having fun?" she asked, "I have."

"Three guys are waiting to have me in the Sauna now," she added.

She obviously had been totally unaware of my near death experience.

"You might like to try your luck in the Steam Room," Faith went on.

It was apparent that she didn't want me barging in on her Scandinavian adventure.

"No, I think that I'll get showered and dressed. You take your time though," I said.

"OK!" she said as she trotted off.

After I got dressed, I went out to what passed for a lobby area.

"Rough night, dear?" the woman in the booth asked.

"A bit, how do you know?" I replied.

"CCTV. It's in every room. Although quite what the fuck I'm supposed to do if it all goes tits up, I don't know."

"Your friend still hard at it, is she?" she went on.

"Yes, bless her," I said.

"Cuppa?" the woman asked.

"That would be lovely, if it's not too much trouble," I told her.

"Better pop in here, dear," she said unlocking the side door.

The mug was a bit grim but it wasn't bad tea.

"That's why we don't get many women on their own in," the woman explained.

"Mind you there's usually a steady stream of husbands who can't wait to see their wives being used by weirdos. Some of them don't even join in. I have a theory it's a way for them to take the old lady out for the evening without it costing them anything," she laughed.

"My hubby's into all that but I'm usually in control of the whole situation, That's the first time I've ever been scared," I confided.

"Don't worry, that fella won't be coming back here. I've put his photo on the barred list. By the way he shot outta here once he got that slap, I don't think he'll want to anyway," she told me.

An hour and two more cups of tea later, Faith wandered into the lobby.

"Oh, there you are. You abandoned me and left me unchaperoned. Anything could have happened: and come to think of it it did," she said jokingly.

"You want me to show her the CCTV footage of your swimming lesson?" the woman asked.

"No, probably best if she remains in her ignorance," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

-

The next day as we travelled home I asked Faith, "Why the sudden need for risky sex. Are you not getting enough abuse from Jem?"

"Oh, that's over. He said he didn't need me anymore," said Faith.

"That's funny. I wonder why that is," I said.

"He told me he's making some changes in his life. I believe that Glenda doesn't do his cleaning anymore and since Jules and Trev have been expecting he doesn't go there on a Saturday night either," she added.

Now, I was intrigued.

Faith said that she isn't too put out about Jem. She is getting enough sex at the lock-ins and besides Colin is fucking her at every opportunity now that he thinks that she is a wanton harlot.

She is glad to get the Jacuzzi thing out of her system and return to normal village fucking.

Me too.

-

"How you doing?" I asked Jem.

"Not bad. How about you?" he replied.

"How come things have cooled between you and Faith?"

"Is that her name? Just calls her the Vicar's wife," replied Jem, trying to dodge the question.

"You're been fucking her all this time and you didn't ask her name?"

"It never came up," Jem said, with a slightly bemused look on his face.

"Anyway, what brought it to a close?" I asked, not letting it go.

"Well me and Craig was talking. He said that it was time I settled down and had a regular girlfriend. When I thought about it that's just what I wanted. So I got one and put the rest of my life in order too," he confided.

"Who is she?" I asked.

"Ah, that's for me to know," he grinned.

"Come on you can tell me," I said.

"Nope!"

"I'll bar you from the pub if you don't tell me," I threatened.

"I don't go in the pub," Jem laughed.

"Well, the tearoom, then," I said in desperation.

"You don't run the tearoom, the old ladies do. I just have to stroke a nipple in there and they'll do anything for me so that threat won't work either," he chuckled.

"If I let you shag me, will you tell me?"

"I'm staying faithful to her so, no thanks," he said.

Dam, none of my usual bargaining tools had worked.

-

That evening in the pub, I collared Craig at the bar.

"Who is Jem's new girlfriend?" I asked.

"Couldn't possibly say," he replied.

I tried my trump card first, "I could bar you if you don't tell me."

"You always say that but you've never barred anyone. Well, except for that time Tom pissed into the top of the piano. Even then, you let him back in the next night," said Craig laughing.

"Oh, go on. You have to tell me," I pleaded.

"Geneva Convention," he said.

"Geneva Convention?"

"Yes, you remember. I only have to give my name, rank and serial number," he grinned.

I frowned and said, "Have it your own way. I'll ask Glenda. Women aren't covered by all that bullshit. If another woman asks them a direct question, they are duty bound to answer."

Then I made him wait until Harry served him, as a punishment.

-

They had a batch of the good bread pudding in the tearoom so I took some around to Glenda at Henchard's Farm. My only motive was that I'm sure she enjoys a nice bread pudding.

"Thanks," said Glenda, eyeing the gift with some uncertainty.

"Faith tells me that Jem has belayed their Wednesday night get togethers," I slipped into the conversation as soon as she was off guard.

After some hesitation, she replied, "You know men, they go off things."

"I believe that he has a regular girlfriend now," I said, trying a different tack.

"Yes," was her curt reply.

"Do you know her name?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Is it anyone I know?"

"Yes."

"Oh, for fuck sake. Who is it?" I demanded.

There was a pregnant pause.

"Well, actually, it's me," she dropped it like an H Bomb.

"What?"

"It was their idea, I wasn't sure at first," Glenda mumbled.

"Who's idea?" I asked.

"Jem and Craig's. They were having one of their manly chats at the kitchen table. Craig was telling Jem how great it was to have someone you love. Someone you could be faithful to. Someone you could have the thrill of watching strange men fuck," she explained.

"How did you get involved?" I said.

"Jem told Craig that he would only ever love one woman. Craig said that Jem should make her his and never let her go," Glenda said.

"Jem said that she was married to someone else.

"When Craig asked him who it was, Jen told him it was me.

"So they just decided that they would share me. I was a bit flabbergasted at first but they persuaded me that it made sense.

"Craig said that I was always over at Jem's cleaning. I had to always pretend that I didn't like Jem fucking me. Craig said him and Jem always talked about it the next day.

"If Jem lived in the farmhouse it would make life easier. So that's what we're doing. It's a good job we have a big bed," Glenda finished with.

I foolishly asked, "Doesn't that make sex a bit complicated?"

"Not really, once one starts they both have a go. Usually at the same time. Still I quite like it back and front. They never argue about who goes where."

"The biggest problem is when I'm bending over in the kitchen and one of them surprises me. It takes me a while to work out who's shagging me," concluded Glenda.

-

Considering it was the first Saturday of the month, it was fairly quiet in the pub. There must have been eight of nine of the regular blokes in. I knew that Rita was off visiting her Aunty Flo over Whitchurch Canonicorum way but Brian was in. Helen had done her usual trick of sending Gerald over first. She was likely to swan in just before time.

The giggling was coming from Faith; she was seated between two farm lads. They were telling her in great detail exactly what they intended to do to her once the bolts went over. Faith reminded them that they could do whatever they liked as long as they had the nerve to stare the Vicar straight in the eyes in church tomorrow.