Greengages Ch. 04

Copyright © merf68. Please respect copyright.

This is a work of fiction continuing the story from Greengages 01, 02 & 03. Any similarities to people or places is purely coincidental. It contains material of explicitly sexual descriptions between consenting adults and includes the following categories:

F exhib, M/F, M/F fetish, tv

If any of the above are not to your liking may I respectfully suggest you look elsewhere for your entertainment.

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story.

~oOo~

Chapter Four.

It wasn't long before they drew up outside Greengages' forbidding gate set in a high wall. George pressed the button on the communication grill and announced them. The gates swung smoothly open and closed behind the car with a soft clang after they had driven through. They followed the neat gravel drive about a quarter of a mile to the great house which looked majestic in the bright morning sun. George parked the car next to three others and they all piled out.

Tom, the owner of Greengages, opened the door to welcome them wearing just his shorts. He greeted Sarah with a passionate kiss and then surprised Trish and Mike by kissing their father, which George returned with equal enthusiasm. Turning to his new guests Tom spread his arms wide, extending his greeting to them.

"Trish and Mike, my dears, at long last." He kissed the young woman firmly on her lips then turned to Mike. Trish was intrigued to see how her husband would respond to a kiss from another man but their host, instinctively divining the situation, hugged him and gave him a very discrete peck on the cheek. "Come, let's join the others." He ushered them through to the entrance hall and on to one of the side rooms in which there were four other people, all of whom Mike and Trish knew well.

Tom's Aunt Tina -- now where did she fit into this set-up, Mike wondered -- started to rise from the sofa when she saw them but George told her not to disturb herself, closing the distance between them and kissing her -- again a lusty kiss -- when she had re-seated herself. Sarah did the same and the younger couple followed suit. George sat next to Aunt Tina on the sofa and held her hand.

Everybody called her 'Aunt Tina', though only Tom did by right. She was a spinster in her mid-sixties who just personified unpretentious old world charm. Not that she was in her lavender and lace dotage by any means. A tall slender woman with a mane the colour of pale gold held back by a baby blue Alice band which matched her quick, intelligent eyes set in a face which had many smile lines etched in the rich tan of her skin. Today she wore a crisp white blouse and a faded blue flowered knee-length skirt.

Carl and Myra Johnson and their daughter Wendy all greeted the new arrivals in what seemed to be the customary fashion although Mike deliberately presented his cheek for Carl's kiss. Carl had been a junior partner in George's firm and they were all family friends of long standing. Tom invited all to be seated and tinkled a little hand bell. Wendy and Trish got along well enough together though their age difference when they were young was too much for 'best friend' status. Trish suspected Wendy had had a bit of a crush on her and was hurt when Mike and she married. As girls do, she got over it.

A short while later there was an excited feminine squeal from a side door and a pretty little maid ran in calling, "Mistress Trish, you came!" She hugged and kissed Trish thoroughly then did the same to an astonished but unresisting 'Master Mike.' Who was this young woman who seemed to know them? both wondered. They'd never known Tom to have a maid and neither could recall seeing her before.

"I'm sorry," Trish apologised, peering at the gorgeous girl, perplexed. "Do I know you?" But the maid just stood there, keeping the suspense going with a twinkle in her eye and a gamine grin.

"This is Toni," Wendy informed them. "Isn't she lovely?" They both looked at the maid, trying to think who Toni might be although they agreed that she was, indeed, lovely. Her face seemed vaguely familiar but Trish still couldn't place her until Wendy came to the rescue. She stood with her arm around the maid's waist and said, in an almost conspiratorial whisper, "It's Tony, my kid brother." Well, 'kid brother' was a joke between them, she being the older by just thirteen minutes.

"What?" They couldn't believe it at first but when they looked closely, they saw that it was in truth Tony behind the expertly delicate makeup and in the figure-hugging maid's outfit. He/she still had that saucy little grin and cocked his/her head to one side with a little shrug.

"Toni loves playing the maid, don't you, Little Bro?"

Toni dropped a perfect little curtsy and said, "Yes, Mistress Wendy." She then retrieved the tray she had hurriedly set down near the door through which she entered and busied herself serving them all tea or coffee as each preferred.

"Well, well, well," Trish thought, still amazed at the transformation of this little hellion she'd known as a kid five years her junior. Tony was the kind of obnoxious little boy who would delight in putting a handful of cold, slimy worms down the back of her dress, or whatever disgusting pranks his devious mind concocted. Just the sort of tricks that make little girls hate little boys, with no sense of anything the least bit 'girlish' in him. But now 'she' carried 'her' rôle off to perfection.

Mike was feeling a kind of inner tension. When he had kissed 'Toni', it was with all the enthusiasm which seemed to be the norm here at Greengages and it had just occurred to him that he had kissed another man, a man he had watched growing up from a little boy.

Mike was a bundle of nerves when she served his coffee but his eyes followed her as she tripped her way back out of the room with her empty tray, her 4" heels clacking on the stone flags. Tony really looked good when transformed into Toni and Mike felt the beginnings of interest as her pert little butt disappeared from his sight.

They all wore light summer clothes to suit the gorgeous weather and everything seemed so 'normal' sitting there chatting about the usual social inconsequentialities amongst old friends. Everybody seemed very tactile to Greengages' latest recruits, and reached out to touch a hand or shoulder or knee frequently but it was all as above suspicion as the proverbial vicar's tea party. Trish don't really know what she expected before they arrived. Probably not a bacchanalian orgy but maybe not quite as innocent as this.

Trish was dreamily wondering how things would progress when she was distracted from her reverie by Wendy's invitation to join her in the garden. They linked arms and strolled through the patio onto the bowling-green-lush lawn, beyond which lay the swimming pool. This started a general exodus. George was not far behind the two lovely young ladies, escorting Aunt Tina. His hand was caressing her bum and she was looking up at him, smiling as they chatted animatedly, stopping briefly to exchange a kiss. They wandered off down one of the paths through a small but dense wood which had been wonderful for Hide and Seek the kids had loved when they were children.

Wendy settled herself down on the grass and patted the ground, inviting Trish to sit beside her. Sarah and Mike came out next. Sarah whispered something to him and Mike left her and sprawled himself on the lawn not far from his wife and Wendy. On either side of the door was a trestle table. One of them had the crockery and cutlery of a buffet lunch and Sarah casually removed her shirt and dropped it on the other, otherwise empty, table. Tom came up right behind her and unclipped her bra with the words, "Let me help you with this."

She turned and ran her hand affectionately over his cheek after he had removed and dropped her bra on top of her shirt. "Thank you, my dear." They joined us on the lawn and Sarah lay on her back using Tom's thigh as a pillow and Mike's legs as a footrest, uncaring that when the capricious wind lifted her flared tennis skirt her shaven pussy was open to gaze -- she wore no panties. They were closely followed by Carl and Myra who sat on a swing lounge. They heard the deep chime of the of the gate bell followed by Toni's cry from the house, "I'll get it Master Tom."

A few minutes later Trish's Aunt Mary, Uncle John and her cousins, Nigel and James, were ushered in by Toni. They were followed close behind by a young couple who were strangers to Mike and Trish. Toni introduced them as Peter and Shirley. There were kisses all round as the newcomers joined the rest on the lawn. Peter's kiss told Trish that he was 'available' so she surreptitiously gave him the once-over when they were all settled.

He was quite a hunk, this Peter, she thought. Not tall, maybe five-nine or -ten with the shaved pate which seems to be popular these days. His head bore several scars and that set the pattern for his forehead and particularly eyebrows. His ears tended to stick out and his nose was misshapen but the asymmetry seemed to give the big, open face extra character. They later learned he is a professional rugby player. He had broad shoulders and deep chest down to a thick -- but not fat -- waist with wiry curls peeping out the neck of his England shirt. His hirsute muscular arms ended in hands the size of shovels. His fawn slacks showed the creases of a long drive and he wore a pair of heavy sandals on his powerful-looking feet. This solid block of a man was a distinct possibility, Trish thought. I could pop my cork for him! His smile when he caught her looking seemed to hold a promise.

A few minutes later the delectable Toni wheeled out a trolley with a selection of cold drinks. Still feeling just a shade queasy from last night's wine binge, Trish settled for a long cool fruit juice but the most popular drink was white wine, of which there were several bottles in a large silver ice bucket.

Toni had changed her shoes to more practical flat heels -- stiletto heels don't work too well on lawns. She was well and truly kissed and groped as she distributed the drinks around the party and seemed to revel in the attention she was receiving. Mike hesitated momentarily before giving her a passionate kiss while running his hand up her leg. Then the perverse thought hit Trish: I'd love to watch Toni go down on him.

Toni stood about 5'7" in her flat shoes. Her slim, shapely legs were sheathed in seamed black nylon stockings. The flared skirt ended with starched lace trim a respectable four inches above the knee, the black uniform and miniscule white apron were tightly cinched at the tiny waist -- how had she got herself that slim? -- and closely conformed to the swell of petite, shapely breasts. The modest neckline was also trimmed with lace and she wore a black velvet choker. Tony kept his hair short but you wouldn't believe that Toni's lustrous dark shoulder-length waves were anything but real. Her locks, topped with a lace cap, were a perfect frame for the delicate elfin face. She was a dream and even Trish caught herself speculating what it would be like to make love to her. 'Who would do what, with which and to whom?' to coin a phrase. And to think, twenty-four hours ago she hadn't looked at another man that way and now she'd set her sights both on the most gorgeous hunk in the universe and a lovely transvestite, this after being well and truly rodgered by her father.

After a few minutes Peter announced he was going to cool off in the pool. "He's had a two-hour drive to get here this morning," Wendy informed Trish, "and you know what the M5 is like at weekends. But I could do with a dip myself. Coming?" On seeing her friend's reluctance Wendy chuckled, "You don't need a swimsuit here. Keep your undies on if you must. We leave our clothes on the table -- it's easier to rush the table indoors if it rains and we always know where we left them." The two girls followed Peter to the trestle where they all stripped off, Wendy and Peter quickly and efficiently, Trish somewhat more hesitantly.

Peter rested his hands on Trish's shoulders when she was finally undressed and looked her over with pleasure and obvious attraction in his eyes. He turned and looked at her mother then back at her. "Well, you're certainly your mother's daughter! Except here!" He tugged at her pubic hair. Trish, for herself, was speechless and almost trembling as she took in the vision holding her. He was even more god-like when naked. His legs were as powerfully sculpted as his arms and chest: everywhere was covered in a dark, wiry pelt which almost hid his tool and ball sac. It felt like her womb was calling him to impregnate her. As he pulled her delightful form into his body and gave her a deep kiss she could feel the curls on his chest exciting her nipples and sending a thrill right through her. He broke the kiss and whispered, "Let's cool off in the pool." Trish didn't want to cool off. She had the hots for him.

Wendy was running towards the pool and dived straight in causing barely a ripple as her slim body slid into the water. "Race you," Peter challenged Trish and set off at a run in Wendy's footsteps.

"Hey, wait. That's not fair!" she called, pretending petulance as she chased after him, boobs swinging wildly to all points of the compass. He ignored her shouts but waited at the edge of the pool until she arrived. Laughing, grabbed her in a bear hug and threw himself into the water, with Trish in tow. The shock of the cool water had her gasping as she regained her feet still in his clutches.

"Get off, you brute. Let me go," she shouted, playfully beating a tattoo with her fists on his chest but she'd have been mortified if he obeyed her. He started wading to the deeper water until it reached their shoulders. Trapping her arms between them he kissed her and at the same time grinding her body onto his. She raised her feet from the floor, wrapped her legs round his waist and returned his kiss with all the passion firing through her body. She felt him lift his feet and almost had a panic attack as their heads sank beneath the surface of the pool, still locked in a kiss but he held her firmly with him as they floated down.

When her chest started heaving he pushed them back to the surface and she gulped a lungful of precious oxygen, snorting the water out of her nostrils. Trish was still panting when he kissed her again and once more submerged them. She didn't know what it was but there was something incredibly erotic about underwater kissing and she was more than ready to sink with him the third time.

When they resurfaced he told her to stand still and ducked down until she felt the powerful suction of his mouth on her nipple. He stayed down there what seemed to her an impossible time, mouth clamped on boob, one hand clutching her bum and the other wrapped tightly round her back. One nipple was cold in the water while the other was being caressed by a warm tongue. Trish was just shivering with pleasure.

As he finally came up for air she felt his tool rubbing up her thigh so she put her hand down to feel it, curious about the size of this big man's cock. She wasn't disappointed, it was built like his body: not too tall but interestingly thick. She was almost cringing at the thought of stretching her pussy around that but her body was urging her on. She pulled her other hand down and caressed that lovely monster, peeling the foreskin back and forth.

Meanwhile one of her breasts was being tickled by his chest rug and the other was being thoroughly squeezed and tugged by his big hand. It all seemed to be happening so quickly but she wanted him in her. Now!

"Help me," she whispered as she tried to bring his tool to her aching slit. He lifted her by the waist and lowered her slowly down until their organs touched. This is it, Trish thought and pulled her pussy lips apart as her downward progress continued. There it was. She felt it start to penetrate her pussy, forcing the lips wider. No, she thought, no more. She felt split in two and couldn't stretch any further. "No, I can't take it," she whimpered at Peter but he knew better and with quick downward pressure the head was inside her.

Her shriek made him hold his position while she got used to it. "Wait," she gasped, just thrilled at the thought that it was actually inside her. After a few seconds she whispered, "Slowly," and slowly was allowed to sink on it, fraction by fraction, feeling every little twitch and spasm until she felt his pubic bone grating on hers. She'd been panting all the time and when she saw him closing in for a kiss she managed a gulp of fresh air and happily sank beneath the surface with him.

He started pumping it in and out a little slowly. My god, she thought with a thrill. I'm getting fucked by real hunk - underwater. She couldn't believe it but it was happening. His movements speeded up a little and his drawback got bigger with each thrust. It seemed to her that she seemed to last much longer underwater this time but eventually had to come up for air, losing George's prick in the process.

As his tool dragged out of her pussy, the cold water flooded her shrinking passage sending new thrills through her body. He joined her on the surface again and lifted her so she was again repositioned with his tool just inside her pussy and, kissing again, they submerged. He thrust her all the way down onto his prick and started ramming it into her until she just exploded inside but she could only hang on, wanting desperately to squeal. He kept her impaled as he brought her head above water, a primal scream was passing her lips even before she hit the surface, the sound strangely distorted by the water.

Peter started fucking again faster and faster until Trish knew he was almost there then took a deep breath and kissed him. Understanding her intention he took them both down and she felt his seed flooding into her womb and through her body. As they relaxed and relished the post-climax spasms, she allowed the air to trickle out of her lungs to relieve the pressure and they sank lower until Peter finally pulled them back up. They stood neck deep in the water holding each other tightly, both panting, as his tool slowly softened and diminished inside her until it finally just dropped out and her pussy got another cold dunking.

He picked his lover up, carried her to the side of the pool where he deposited her before levering himself out by his powerful arms. He stood her on her feet and with his arm around her waist he guided her back to the others on the lawn although it felt to her like she was walking bow-legged. Her eyes first sought out Mike. He'd just watched his wife being fucked by a stranger in front of all their friends: how would he react? She caught his gaze. He was happy, everything was OK.

"And you never even let your hair down," Mike laughed at his wife. It was true, Trish's pigtails were still piled and looped about her head looking like tangles of rope when wet, she reached up and pulled all the pins out, shaking the pigtails free she started to squeeze the water out.

Toni came running across the lawn with an armful of towels. "Here I am Mistress Trish," she called and wrapped Trish in a huge fluffy towel. She dried her all over, not hesitating about going between Trish's legs gently, but making sure she was clean down there after Peter's ministrations. When she was done, Toni wrapped her in a dry towel and turned her attentions to Peter who received the same efficient service.

"They must have heard you in the next county," said Mike to his wife when both were dry and Toni was retreating with the used towels.

"Jeez, Mike, if you'd been impaled on what I was impaled on, they'd have heard you in Scotland." Trish looked down to Peter's tool to make her point but it looked innocuous now, just peeping out from the curls. She pointed to it and said, "Don't let that fool you. There's a monster lurking in there," then softened the joke by giving Peter a no-holds-barred kiss and whispering, "Maybe we can coax that monster back out sometime."