The Fair Traveller Ch. 01

This story is pure fiction. Any resemblance to any people real or imagined is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1: I'm Only Sleeping

My name is Natasha Hospes. And I want to tell you a story, A story about love.

I grew up in a small town just outside LA. I got good grades at school, Especially in maths, I've always been good at maths. Which is lucky because I've always wanted to own a business. But my mother tried to tell me "A woman's place is in the kitchen, not the boardroom."

That attitude made me sick, A woman's place is wherever she wants to be. I was only five when I first shouted at my mother about how I was going to be rich one day, and I earned my first lecture straight out of the "good book" about how money is the root of all evil and we should just be grateful for what we already have.

After a few years of such lectures I made the best decision of my life. I would knuckle under and learn to be a good wife for my future husband. No don't leave, Because while I learned how to cook with my mother I spent every other moment I could learning about maths, science and English. So that when I was at the age to go to college I was smart, And a good enough liar to say to my mother "Why don't I learn about Home Economics at college?"

"Really?" She said "They still teach that?"

"Oh yes." I lied "It's not as popular as it was because of feminists complaining."

And that did it, she agreed just to "show those lesbians!" I was on my way to study business at college. What? You didn't think I would really go and study Home Ec did you? It was embarrassingly easy to keep up the charade. I won't bore you with how, but trust me it was easy.

It's now I should bring up Chaz. My first and only boyfriend. We've known each other since we were barely able to walk. We went to the same schools, He was the hot jock, I was his arm candy slash lead cheerleader. We lost our virginity to each other not an hour after having won homecoming king and queen. It you ask me the whole experience was very anti-climactic. He though it was the best night of his life.

Oh I haven't described myself have I. That's usually the form isn't it. I'm 5'7'', I'm thin but I've got curves in all the right places. My ruby lips have been described as "Kissable" my bum as "A supple peach" by various people. I've got shoulder length brunette hair and my breasts are big but not huge, Anything more than a handful is a waste if you ask me, I'm not sure what men see in huge breasts.

But anyway, me and Chaz. Like I said we came up together, known each other forever. So when he asked me to marry him it was no surprise, And needless to say I was ecstatic and screamed my yes' at him.

But it was during college I met David, One of the most important people in my life.

David was an engineering major and simply brilliant. He was my ticket to the big time. He had invented an improvement to the jet engine that improved fuel efficiency, made the engine run harder and faster and reduced noise all in one. Don't ask me to explain the science I swill simply never understand. But poor old David had a mind like a sieve and he wasn't very popular, a classic nerd.

Don't worry, I didn't steal his invention or anything. I made friends with him. I thought I would need to use my feminine whiles on him but I was surprised to find that, No I didn't. He was one of the few people I had ever met who just wanted to hear what I thought about something, Anything. In those early days we used to stay up all night and talk about stuff. I knew I had found more than a business opportunity. This was a friends for life.

Eventually I did find myself attracted to him, he wasn't much to look at, But he was genuine. When I threw myself at him one night (which involved sneaking into his dorm and waiting naked on his bed) I was shocked to discover he thought of me as no more than a friend. He let me down gently and reminded me how good I had it with Chaz. I didn't go nuts on him and we continued to be very good friends.

The next night Chaz proposed. And I said yes.

It was just after my honeymoon that me and David went into business together making and selling his new invention. Within a year we were making money hand over fist, Rich and getting richer each day. It was around this time my mother cut me off, I barely even noticed. It was around this time that Chaz's football career took off. To the lowly depths of the minor leagues. Needless to say he was rather uncomfortable with his wife being the major bread winner. And especially uncomfortable with the fact my business partner was another man. He often accused us of having an affair but he never found any proof (because there was none) but he didn't dare to try and divorce me. My lawyers would hang him out to dry. The arguments are probably the reason we never had kids, I didn't want to bring a child into a house filled with vitriol. So to cope I threw myself into my work. And the company grew into one of the largest aeronautical parts suppliers in the world. David and his R&D team kept coming up with new and astounding inventions and soon we were rich beyond the dreams of avarice.

By the time I was 27 (the company was almost 8 years old by this point) my marriage was falling apart at the seams. My husband drank. But he was a rich alcoholic so no one gave a crap. He was writing a book about being a football player but he could barely even spell football so it was going nowhere fast. We were even sleeping in separate beds at this point. I don't know why I didn't get rid of him. Actually I do, He was still hot and I was still a woman with needs. I thought he could satisfy them. I would later find out how wrong I was.

By now David had married a sweet girl from the Caribbean named Marie and they had the most lovely little daughter named Hope. I'm even her godmother, And she's like the daughter I never had. You know, It's almost tragic how I spend more of my free time with her than I do my own husband. This is only made easier by the fact me and David live so close we almost share a driveway.

But that isn't why you came here is it? I bet you came to hear about Clare didn't you?

It was in the summer that I had to go to England, not for the first time. But the first time in a good few years.

"Why do you have to go?" Whined Hope as she bounced on the foot of my bed.

"Because an important client in England needs me to renew a contract I made." I said. I was packing my bag, I was only going for a few days at the most. So only the bare essentials.

"But you've never even been to England."

"I have." I told her, faux annoyance creeping into my voice.

"When?" She asked, genuinely curious. I always loved that about her.

I thought about it. "I haven't been in 5 years." I said.

Her face scrunched up in concentration. Hope was good at most things, but maths was almost completely beyond her. I was only 2!" she said with triumph. I gave her a loving pat on the head.

"Your taxi's here." Announced a gruff voice from behind us. Chaz. I could hear the tink of ice hitting the side of a scotch glass. "Where you going this time?" He asked me with barely concealed annoyance.

"England." I grunted as I turned to him, My bag full.

"You've never been to England before." He said with surety.

"Yes she has! 5 years ago silly!" Shouted Hope.

This only earned her an annoyed look from Chaz, which in turn earned him a look to curdle milk from me. He might treat me like crap but he knew he couldn't treat Hope like that with me around.

I walked briskly to the front door where David was waiting, to pick up Hope and send me on my way.

He didn't bother checking to see if I'd forgotten anything, I hadn't forgotten anything before a trip in all the years we've been in business. He just wished me luck in the only way we could.

"Time to make money." He said before high fiving me.

I gave Hope a goodbye hug, Chaz a dismissive wave and I set off in my taxi.

18 tiring ours later I was in England. In the Rolls Royce that had been laid on for me. "It's good to be rich" I thought to myself. First stop was my hotel. I checked in, got to my luxury sweet. And took a very long bath.

Baths have always been a sensuous experience for me. A chance to really "Unwind" if you see what I mean. I rub my hands all over my body and I just melt into the water. I explore my breasts, my pussy and sometimes I even tentatively send an exploratory finger up my anus. I touch myself as I wish Chaz would touch me. I love myself as I wish he would love me.

After a nice relaxing bath I dry myself off and flop into the bed, Falling instantly into dreamless sleep. I never dream.

*BEEP*

*BEEP*

*BEEP*

*BEEP*

I glowered at the alarm for having the audacity to wake me up so early. Then I remember the four hour drive to the middle of nowhere just to sign a stupid contract. This stupid company was probably the only one on the planet that still demanded contracts be signed in person, but they are a major contract so if they say "Jump!" we ask "How high?"

So after getting ready (Brushing my hair, make up etc...) I dress sexy in case I have to re-negotiate the deal (negotiating with a sexy woman intimidates men. Or at least distracts them) make my way downstairs, check out of the hotel and get going. I even get a "ma'am" as I climb in the car. I like England really.

"What's your name?" I ask my driver. He's an old man, quite short with whiting hair. But you can tell he's god at his job just by looking at him. Life experience just seems to leak out of his pores.

"Smith ma'am. Henry Smith." He replies. His voice is thick with an east London accent. I nod my acknowledgement. Knowing the name of the man driving you around is always useful.

"Been to England before?" He asks politely.

"Once. 5 years ago." I reply.

"How do you like it?" He asks and we're off. Talking about the weather ("It's about to get bad they say, but they always say that." He says) he explains soccer to me and I explain American football to him and the trip passes in a flash. As we pull into the courtyard he is failing to explain the off side rule and I genuinely regret having to cut our conversation short.

The next hour or so is one of the most boring times I've ever spent doing anything. Just having to stand there and wax lyrical about how important the contract is to me. It is important, but not that important. Then we sign the contract without any more trouble (I dressed sexy for nothing *humpf*) And then I step out into the fresh air and nearly get bowled over by the wind. Which appears to have taken a disliking to anything standing over. Bins, Shrubs and apparently even people. With a hand from Henry I'm able to get back to the car without to much trouble. And I remind myself to tip him generously.

"To the airport ma'am?" He asks me.

"Yes." I reply off handedly.

He nods and starts the engine.

It's around three hours later that we have to skirt round the first tree blown over by the wind. And Henry turns on the radio to listen to traffic reports. And then that I hear the most ANNOYING news.

"...meanwhile at Gatwick Airport all flights have been grounded due to adverse weather conditions." The female newsreader announces.

"Hellfire!" I snap. "We're in the middle of nowhere." I sigh in exasperation.

"Don't worry ma'am." Says Henry as he pulls into a lay-by and holds up a book marked "Good Pup Guide." I eye it nervously. Pubs don't have a good reputation in English business circles. "Ah, Here's one." He announces and pulls off into the night.

About 10 minutes later he pulls into the carpark of a dingy looking building with a rain and wind battered sign marked "The Fair Traveller" including a mildewy picture of a woman's face. Before I can say "I think we should find another place" Henry has opened my door, ushered me out of the car and into the pub. Barely shielding me from the driving rain with his own body.

As I step through the door I see the interior of the pub. And it is nothing like I expect. Instead of the three angry regulars sitting in the dark not talking to an even angrier looking barman. I see a well let, But rustic looking room kept warm by a roaring fire. Wood panel on every surface, A number of chairs being filled by people of all shapes and sizes, All laughing in their various groups. It even has a small raised platform at one end, I presumed it was for musicians or something. And the Barman, He looks like he just stepped out of a Tolkien novel.

"Hello there!" He announces with a voice like a warm blanket. "Come in, What'll it be?" He asks and I barely know what to say. Until I hear Henry come through the door carrying my bag and I remember why we stopped in this odd place.

"Yes we need two rooms for the night." I say, Hoping Henry had the foresight to pick a place we could stay for the night.

"Oh of course!" Says the Barman jovially. "Suppose to catch a flight home tonight then?" He asks kindly. I nod in affirmation as he produces two keys from behind the counter. He passes one to me and Henry and we plod upstairs to find our rooms.

It's later in the evening, after I have showered and changed into something warmer than a blouse and short skirt that I realise just how hungry I am. I leave my room in search of food. As I walk past Henry's room I hear a snippet of conversation.

"Yes Margaret I got some food." I hear Henry say in exasperation. I assume Margaret is his wife.

"Don't worry I am safe... Yes I know what these American business women are like normally but she seems very nice... I love you too." I creep past his room resolving to give him a stupidly large tip for all this.

As I enter the bar room of the pub I glance at the clock. Just gone 8 o'clock. Dinner time. I ask the Barman what he has in stock.

"How about a nice fish and chips?" He asks me and I just nod, letting the well timed grumbling of my stomach do the talking.

As I sit down at the bar I hear the room go quiet, And the lights dim. I turn around and what I see takes my breath away. I don't know if it was the spotlight, or her short floral print dress or something else. But I know I had never seen a more beautiful woman. She was short, Shorter than me at least. Her hair was long and red, Her skin was creamy white and flawless. Her breasts were ample and barely contained by her low cut dress. Her legs were long and thin, topped by her small but perfectly round bum.

I suddenly realised I was ogling her and turned away. Luckily my food had arrived by this point and I could dive into my meal. But then I heard her voice.

"Hi I'm Clare." She said sweetly into the microphone. Her Irish brogue melted into my heart. She continued "I don't know how many of you are here for my performance but oh well." The audience chuckled slightly.

I turned back to see she had picked up an acoustic guitar and was busy with another microphone, placing it carefully where it would be able to pick up the strings.

She played an experimental cord to be sure she had got it right and then smiled as she began her first song.

As I was walking one midsummer's morning,

To hear the birds whistle and the nightingale play,

Was there that I met a beautiful maiden,

As I was a walking along the highway...

It was an English folk song called Game Of All Fours and I will remember it till the day I die. It was then that I fell in love with English folk music. And the rest of the next hour only cemented it's place in my heart. Many times over Clare's set I had to remind myself not to stare at her open mouthed and finish my meal (which was very good if you're wondering).

When Clare had finished her set she said "Um, I have some CD's if anybodies interested." I knew I had to have one to take home. But nerves took over, for the first time in my life I was too nervous to do something, And I couldn't work out why.

It was only after she had sold a couple of CD's, packed up her guitar and came over to the bar that I finally plucked up the courage to speak.

"Umm, Do you have any CD's left?" I asked lamely.

"Oh yeah." She chirped, flashing me a smile. Lucky I was sitting down because I went weak it the knees for no reason. "Here." She said, giving me the CD. I passed her the money and then, a part of my brain took over proceedings.

"Hi, I'm Natasha." It announced using my mouth. It thrust out my hand. And Clare took it.

"I'm Clare." She giggled. "You're from America?" She asked.

"Yeah. I'm here in business." I answered, Now my brain had the ball rolling it had passed me the reins with not even a by your leave.

"Never heard folk music before?"

"No never. It was beautiful." I said "Especially the way you sang it." I added with a blush. Why did say that? I asked myself.

"Oh thanks." Replied Clare with her own blush.

We talked for a while. She explained about each song she had sung, About folk music in general. And I noticed something. I was flirting with her, I hadn't flirted since high school, I was shocked.

I was even more shocked to notice she was flirting back. My little touches of her hand were being returned. So were the touches to her leg and arm. Soon we were leaning on each other to laugh, like we had been friends for years.

After a while we were both more than a little tipsy and the last people in the bar. The Barkeep had long since shut off the pumps and gone to bed, trusting us not to be complete idiots.

"Are you staying here?" She asked me, her eyes smoky.

"Yes." I answered.

"So am I. Top floor." She said. And she kissed me.

Her lips hit mine and took my breath away. Her skin was so soft, and her lips tasted of strawberry. I leaned in for more, my tongue slipped into her mouth and hers into mine. I moaned and so did she. Her hand crept up my chest onto my breast, It felt amazing.

"Better than Chaz" my mind thought. And I came crashing back to the real world. I pulled away harshly, clearly upsetting Clare.

"Did I do anything wrong?" She asked worriedly.

"No no no no." I assured her "It's me. I'm shouldn't have been doing it anyway." I suddenly realised how that sounded "Because I'm married! I don't have any problem with you being a..." My cotton wool mind struggled for the word.

"A lesbian." Clare completed for me and I could only nod embarrassed. "Well we're both a bit drunk so..."

"Yeah, must be it." I didn't even allow myself to think or realise I had wanted to kiss her since I had first seen her earlier that evening. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on or anything."

"No It's ok." She sighed "I have to be up early anyway." And she left the bar, her shoulders slumped dejectedly. I felt awful. But I couldn't work out why. Wasn't it good I was normal and not a lesbian, Right?

Later than night I lay in bed, Staring up at the ceiling beams. I did realise I had wanted to kiss Clare. I had wanted to kiss her all night, kiss her, hold her. Make love to her? I rolled around, confusion swelling in my head. Did I want to have sex with Clare, I didn't even know how two women would make love. In my mind they did lack a certain key piece of anatomy.

I deliberated going to her room. There were only three rooms on the top floor. Me and Henry were in two so that left only one. I pulled back the covers, only to pull them back. She was almost certainly asleep. And I was married. I may have hated the jerk but Chaz was still my husband, Till death do us part and all that.

It was then I felt it. Something was in my bed with me. Crawling up towards me. I looked down to see Clare. Her eyes almost cloudy with arousal. I felt the same lust for her now, and I realised I couldn't fight it. I pulled her over to me, locking lips with her.

She pushed me down and she explored my body. Rubbing my breasts, kissing my stomach, squeezing my buttocks. I was in pure ecstasy. Her hands found my pussy and for the first time in my life I came. A pure and powerful orgasm rocked my body and I realised just how much had been missing from my love life. She crawled back up the me leaving her fingers at my crotch. She kissed me. A forceful but loving kiss I happily returned.