Welcome to England, Pumpkin!

Welcome to England, Pumpkin!

(A 'Bridgeford' Story)

By Alex Barton

Zlata Ivenov was nervous as she sat on a chair placed by the side of the desk in the back office of the 'Bridgeford Arms' public house. So she did what she always did when she was nervous, she opened her legs and slid her hand under the hem of the little black dress she was wearing, working two fingers between the lips of her bare pussy, making sure as she did so to gently caress the erect bud of her clit with her thumb, heightening her pleasure and dissipating her nervousness with every comforting little thrust of her digits into the depths of her constantly creamy wet pussywalls.

Ukrainian by nationality, 19-years-old, Zlata embodied all that was finest in her country's womenfolk. In addition to being breathtakingly beautiful, she had gloriously large breasts, a minute waist, a curvaceous backside and long shapely legs. She was studying at college for a career as a kindergarten teacher because she loved working with children and lived with her parents in a suburb of the country's capital, Kyiv. Far from infantile in her love of masturbation, she was simply a naturally highly sexed young woman who, as soon as she reached 18, delighted in expressing her love for her Mama and Papa by engaging in frequent incestuous sex with both parents, separately and together, whenever the desire took either them or her. She would have liked nothing better than for her frequent pleasurable family sex sessions to continue had not Russia's president decide to invade her country, expecting little or no resistance, in which belief he had been sadly mistaken.

"My darling, your mother and I have decided you must go to England to live with Uncle Stefan," her father had announced one morning when several of their neighbors had been injured by a drone attack on the supermarket where they had been shopping. "We are certain our brave soldiers will eventually win this war, but we have no desire to see you despoiled by Russian troops should they penetrate our defenses and Uncle Stefan owns a very nice cottage in the village of Bridgeford where you must do your best to find a job so that you can help him with the expenses of your food and accommodation and also pay for lessons to learn English which will be essential if you are to resume your career as a trainee teacher."

"But I don't want to leave you and Mama," Zlata wailed, so distressed she took longer than usual to climax as she sat astride her father's magnificently erect cock, raising and lowering her hips to achieve maximum penetration but taking care as she did so not to dislodge her Mama's questing tongue from between her buttocks where the older woman was licking her daughter's anus, heightening the erotic sensation for Zlata as her pussylips were stretched around her father's thrusting cock, a tasty slime of Zlata's cream and sperm ringing the base which her Mama avidly licked up and swallowed, her tongue immediately questing for more.

"You must, pumpkin," her mother said, pausing from giving Zlata the delightful sensation of being double-penetrated by her Papa's thick cock and her Mama's greedy tongue. "You are very beautiful and Russian soldiers would be captivated by your enormous breasts - "

Her father interrupted from fondling, suckling and nipping the nipples of his daughter's beautiful bosom long enough to say, "You have your mother's breasts and then your own," which made both women laugh aloud but then Mama Ivenov saw that her husband was close to emptying his balls into his daughter for the second time that morning and she stood up to press the huge soft globes of her naked breasts into Zlata's naked back, her lips meeting her daughter's in a passionate kiss, and, as she took pleasure in seeing Zlata's eyes close in ecstasy as her husband climaxed, whispered in her ear, "You must only give your body to a nice Ukrainian boy, pumpkin, not be gangraped by filthy Russian bears," and Zlata knew in her heart that her mother was right and she must do as her parents urged.

And so she boarded a flight to Frankfurt in Germany, then caught a coach which traveled across country to Calais in northern France, linking up with a ferry to England where she told the Immigration authorities at Dover she was visiting her uncle and was definitely not a refugee and therefore a burden to Her Majesty's Government. This made them stamp her passport with the cheery greeting, "Welcome to England, sweetheart," to which Zlata, who spoke very little English, responded with her sweetest smile, knowing it would charm any official she encountered which it duly did, finally boarding a thankfully not crowded coach to London which meant she could stretch out on the back seat and fall asleep, delighted to be within reach of her ultimate destination, her uncle Stefan's picturesque rural cottage which was to be Zlata's, hopefully temporary, new home.

It was not long after she had surrendered to slumber that Zlata found herself reliving the pleasure of feeling her mother's skilled tongue licking between her labia, questing as far inside her rippling pussywalls as it would go for the honeyed nectar of her abundant cream which her darling Mama constantly craved. But the tongue turned out to belong to a young man who had not only taken advantage of Zlata's exhaustion to unbutton her blouse and cover her magnificent mammaries with his copious saliva, her nipples now standing up to a painful hardness, but was even now kneeling on the floor with his head under her skirt, his face between her legs, his tongue suckling her stiff clitoris like a miniature penis, sending waves of ecstatic pleasure through the beautiful Ukrainian girl's lower body.

Zlata knew she really ought to insist that the young man, whom she assumed was a student from the backpack she could see on the vacant seat next to the one he had been sitting in when she boarded, giving him one of her sweet smiles in greeting, cease and desist from his lingual masturbation but it had been many hours since she last climaxed and, besides, the delicious sensation of being masturbated by pursed lips reminded her of her loving Mama. She suddenly felt a wave of homesickness that could only be assuaged by settling a hand on the young man's head to encourage him to move his questing tongue down to her anus which twitched with pleasurable anticipation of being thoroughly explored by the young man's long and highly skilled tongue. Which duly happened, bringing Zlata shuddering and trembling to a deliciously intense orgasm, the flood of her fresh cream duly lapped up and swallowed by the rather greedy young man.

And so for Zlata the journey to Victoria Coach Station in central London passed in a most agreeable fashion until the young man, aware that the coach was pulling into the designated bay, finally emerged from under her skirt, smiled at her gratefully and gave her a soft kiss that filled her nostrils with the pleasing scent of her plundered asshole, grabbed his backpack and disappeared, leaving her to consult the instructions her mother had given her and find her way to the underground station, there to travel to Waterloo Station which served the nearest town to Bridgeford, her ultimate destination.

It was a very weary Zlata who knocked on the door of No. 7, Dove Lane, immediately recognizable by the Ukrainian flag flying from a pole erected in the front garden, the scent of roses filling the early evening air, the flowers growing in profusion around the door of the whitewashed cottage which had a thatched roof and reminded Zlata of the pictures she used to show the children in her class as she read them the story of 'Hansel & Gretel' although she hoped it would be her affable uncle Stefan who answered the door rather than a witch with a hooked nose. And so it turned out.

The door was opened by an extremely large man who was only a little taller than Zlata's petite height of five foot one but with great bulging muscles barely covered by his open-necked check shirt, waistcoat straining to keep in his extremely large belly and tight black corduroy trousers outlining an immense bulge at his crotch, a pipe between his teeth which he immediately removed, reaching out his great bearlike arms to enfold his niece in a crushing hug, crying out in Ukrainian, "Zlata, baby pumpkin darling, you made it! You are most welcome to my humble home!"

Zlata did not know whether to laugh or cry with happiness but, either way, she knew three things immediately. First, that she found her uncle extremely handsome and sexually attractive despite his uncanny resemblance to a small panda bear; second, that she did not find the scent of perfumed tobacco on his breath objectionable so if he wanted to kiss her when they made love she would be delighted to have her tongue dueling with his; and third that living in Bridgeford, while deeply distressing because it meant being separated from her devoted parents, would eventually lead to great happiness. How she knew this she had no idea but her heart told her not to doubt her intuition for even a second.

*

Uncle Stefan carried Zlata's suitcase through to the back of the cottage where he had set aside a room for her use, with a comfortable-looking bed piled high with pillows, a dressing table and chair and easy access to the adjoining bathroom, his bedroom on the other side.

"Dinner will be ready soon, pumpkin," he said, lifting the suitcase onto the quilt. "I hope you like meat and are not one of those damned vegetarians or, even worse, a vegan, although I am sure we will manage if you are," and he shook his head in mock-distress.

"No, dearest uncle, I am not," Zlata said, laughing at the delighted expression that appeared on his face. "If you give me just a few minutes I shall join you in the kitchen," and she opened her suitcase and handed him the package of his favorite fragrant Ukrainian pipe tobacco his mother had sent as a gift for her much-missed brother.

"Thank you, darling," Stefan said, tucking the pouch in his waistcoat pocket. "Do you drink beer?"

"I love it," Zlata said with a smile and walked across to slip her arms around her uncle's waist, delighting in the way he cupped her buttocks in his hands as she looked into his eyes and murmured softly, "Thank you for rescuing me, dearest uncle. I shall make it my mission to look after you now I am here, in the same way I did with Mama and Papa," knowing full well her mother had told him all about Zlata's enthusiastic pleasure in incestuous sex.

Stefan gave her a soft smile and Zlata felt the thickness of his hard cock against the lips of her pussy, wet with excitement and anticipation. She pressed her huge breasts into his chest and whispered, "In every way you wish," and Stefan let out a happy laugh and gave her curvy bottom a resounding smack which made her moan with pleasure.

"The dinner I took such trouble to prepare will spoil if I give in to the temptation to welcome you properly," Stefan said, his voice thick with lust as he cupped one of her breasts in his hand, hefting the soft weight and sighing with longing. "Just follow your nose to the kitchen, okay?"

"Two minutes," Zlata whispered and she gave him a little wave of her fingers as he smiled at her and left the room.

*

Zlata pushed her chair back from under the oak table that was the centerpiece of the cottage's kitchen and sighed with satisfaction. Her uncle was an amazing cook, putting out slices of delicious roast beef covered in rich gravy served in a golden pastry case which he told her was called Yorkshire Pudding with crunchy roast potatoes and string beans followed by blackberries under a sugar topping known as crumble with ice cream. Zlata astonished herself by eating like it was going out of style, which pleased her uncle greatly.

While they ate they listened to the BBC World Service because Stefan did not own a TV. "There is nothing good on," he said, and they held hands as they listened to the latest news from Ukraine where President Zelensky was struggling to raise money to fund the resistance to the invasion and the Russian dictator was threatening to use nuclear weapons rather than lose face and risk losing the war he had started. Zlata decided to divert her uncle's attention from the depressing outlook for their homeland by making him roar with laughter as she related the story of the student taking advantage of her on the coach from Dover to London, leaving her to wonder if she had stained the seat with a big puddle of creamy liquid which the next passenger would surely recognize from its highly erotic fragrance.

And then, completely involuntarily and much to her embarrassment because she was never knowingly rude, Zlata yawned mightily and almost fell asleep which made her uncle laugh and insist she take herself off to bed, pausing for a quick shower so she could climb into bed clean and refreshed.

"Thank you for making me so welcome, Uncle," Zlata said, pausing to lean down over the smiling man to display the deep cleavage between her heavy breasts to his admiring gaze.

"You are most welcome, pumpkin. I will have to be up early in the morning to attend to cutting down a diseased tree on Bridgeford Common but I shall be back at midday for lunch which, if you look in the refrigerator, you will find a pan of home-made chicken soup to warm up and there is fresh bread and butter in the larder."

"It will be waiting for you as soon as you come through the door," Zlata said and her lips brushed against his in gratitude for his making her feel so completely at home so quickly.

A few moments later, Zlata was standing under the shower, fondling her breasts at the same time as she slid her fingers between her legs, her clit so super-sensitive to her touch she climaxed so hard her whole body trembled and she had to use a sponge to stifle a groan of intense pleasure. A few moments after that, Zlata realized she need not have bothered to keep quiet because there was an immensely powerfully built man, his tanned body like that of a miniature Greek god, standing behind her under the spray, his hands circling her waist to replace her fingers kneading her breasts with his, his massive prick lying between the furrow of her buttocks. Zlata almost swooned with delight, realizing this was her chance to repay her uncle for his kindness in welcoming and feeding her by using the expertise she had gained in sucking her father's cock for the sexual pleasure of her beloved uncle.

Getting to her knees in front of Stefan, Zlata opened her lips and took as much of his massive prick into her mouth as she could, aware the head was lodged in her throat and yet there were still two or three inches remaining. She massaged his bulging glans with her muscles, forcing herself to relax so her mouth finally reached the base of his prick, the entire length of her uncle's rampant organ swallowed up in an adoring gesture to demonstrate she took as much pleasure from sucking Stefan's cock filling her mouth to capacity as she hoped he did from her doing it.

Instinctively Zlata knew what would give her uncle the greatest pleasure and she reached up to take his hands, placing them on her head so he could hold her steady while he fucked her face. And he did, time and again withdrawing his cock, the head pouring out slippery precum which Zlata swallowed greedily, and then plunging the full length back between the oval of her suckling lips, his face showing the intensity of the pleasure she was giving him, intensified when she reached up and cradled his balls in her fingers, massaging them gently to encourage him to empty their contents into her mouth and down her throat.

And then her uncle let out a bellow like that of a rutting bull and gushes of hot, creamy sperm burst from the head of his spasming prick, filling Zlata's mouth so quickly she struggled to gulp down the gooey liquid before her mouth filled again and she ran the risk of being unable to breathe. Fortunately, Stefan and her Papa must have compared notes because her uncle flexed his hips back which allowed Zlata to swallow the delicious mass of male seed which gushed from her uncle's penis until the thick globs turned to soft spurts and she knew she had drained him; for now at least.

Barely able to stand because she was so tired, Zlata delighted in her uncle's kindness in drying her with a big towel and then carrying her, not to her own bed but to his, a capacious king size covered with a duckdown duvet beneath which she snuggled, thrilled to feel her uncle climb in behind her and spoon himself against her body, his hand draped over her side so he could cup her breast, his still-hard cock once again lying along the furrow of her buttocks, his face buried in the softness of her blonde hair. Zlata sighed with contentment and fell fast asleep, for the moment free of cares and worries about leaving her homeland and her beloved Mama and Papa.

*

Zlata woke the next morning to the sound of heavy rain beating against the bedroom window. She expected to be alone but, from the sounds coming from the kitchen and the delicious scent of coffee and toast, she guessed her uncle's plans for tree-felling had been postponed.

She propped herself up in bed, unconcerned that her breasts were exposed, quickly made a 'huh' sound into her hand in front of her face to reassure herself her breath smelled sweet and waited for her uncle to appear, thrilled when he did wearing a shortie bathrobe and carrying a tray. His eyes lit up when he saw his niece's glorious bosom exposed for his pleasure and he put the tray down on the dresser so he could bend over, his lips meeting hers in a hungry kiss, his hand cupping a soft warm globe so he could run his thumb back and forth over the stiff nipple sending a thrill of arousal straight into Zlata's cunt and making her creamy-wet in preparation for what she hoped was about to happen.

"I love you, pumpkin, you know that?" her uncle said softly, as he trailed his lips along the line of her jaw to the lobe of her ear so he could whisper, "Thank you for last night."

"It was the least I could do," Zlata purred, her lips opening so he could kiss her again. She put her hand out and felt for the opening to his robe, closing her fingers round the shaft of his cock which she was delighted to find was as hard as an iron bar. She loved hearing him moan softly and she whispered, "Do you have time to come back to bed?"

"Well...for a little while..." he said, fetching the tray and handing it to Zlata so he could strip off his robe and slide in next to her.

For several minutes they ate the croissants he had warmed and drank the strong ground coffee he had brewed in a cafetière, and he told her there was a possibility of a job he knew of that would give her money and be an ideal opportunity for her to learn English; not the English taught in textbooks, but the language men and women spoke every day.

"You must tell me all about it when you have finished making love to me," Zlata said, her eyes meeting her uncle's as they finished eating and she slipped out of bed to take the tray through to the kitchen and then make her way to the bathroom to pee. She was about to close the door when her uncle called out, "No, leave it open. I like to watch and listen."

Zlata blushed but did as instructed, relieved she needed to do no more than release a stream of golden urine when she sat down.

"Did your mother warn you I have what she used to call 'unnatural tastes'?" Stefan called to her with a laugh.

"Yes, uncle, she did," Zlata said, wiping herself carefully when she finished. "But that only made me inquisitive to find out what they were," and she pulled the old-fashioned chain flush, washed her hands and ran back to climb under the bedclothes, loving the warmth of her uncle's arms enfolding her body, his erection like a flagpole pressing into her thigh.