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Twas a Dark and Stormy Night

By: joulie



Clarry one of our members, an author of some standing, (can I do her justice?) told her story one winter evening, she joined us after a meeting with her publisher. There was about five or six of us there that evening and I just had to write the story up as we had enjoyed it so much it was a must to share. Unlike many of our members, as an author, Clarry had a descriptive style of relating her story and I have tried to tell the tale in her way. 

*

We all have our moments don't we girls, somehow things just don't fall right...Well, maybe they do, but it's a case of taking advantage of things that arise, nudge nudge, wink wink. Let me tell you about my 'adventure'.

My home was an ancient cottage miles from anywhere out in the country. Comfortable enough, it suited me well as I preferred the isolation while I worked on my novels, I was quite well known for what was politely called 'Bodice rippers'. 

I am Clarrisa, my friends call me Clarry so I am going to leave it at that, I won't disclose the name I write under, as from there it is just a short step to my agent finding out and telling me I am bringing the publishing house into disrepute and I can't have that, so Clarry it's going to be, and I am a little bit under fifty, well to be honest forty nine and eleven months.

I suppose, truth to tell, I should have taken some sort of classes or something when I bought the place, with it being so isolated and that. I didn't, so other than simple, and I mean simple, emergency things, the cottage has over the years become somewhat dilapidated, and in need of serious work. However, you guys don't want to hear about my DIY skills, well not DIY to do with household maintenance anyway.

My story starts a few years ago now. I was tapping away one finger typing on my old Imperial typewriter. I wasn't going anywhere, so I hadn't dressed up, I had got up about six in the morning, slopped around for most of the day writing, slurping coffee, you girls will probably remember, well the older ones among us will, pipe cleaner and tissue paper used as curlers, by god did they make us look a sight and because I had a presentation dinner coming up I had decided on a face pack and you all know what they look like, and this one was green!

My dressing gown had seen better days, although I did have a 'best' that I kept for when I had to go away. Same with my slippers, light, well grubby blue, with a sort of artificial fur trim, flannel night gown, to about mid calf with dear little blue flowers and a sweet little lace trim around the sort of deep V neck. 

I know its just a bit naughty, but home alone and working, I don't usually wear drawers, nobody around, nobody's business, it also saves a moment or two if I am in full spate writing, I have a pot of coffee for the same purpose. Of course, with the style of tale that I wrote, I have been known to get a bit well you know, and the absence of drawers makes it easier to relieve the tension.

It was, here's the cliché, a dark and stormy November evening, my beloved elderly Alsatian, Herman stirred and nudged me a reminder for his dinner. I flicked the light on as I entered the kitchen only to be plunged in an instant into darkness again. Feeling with my feet across the uneven flagstone floor I returned to the hallway and flicked the light switch. Still the darkness resisted attempts to dispel it. 

I groped for the ancient hurricane lamp which I kept beside the dusty book case in the study in the hope of never needing it. I suppose common sense would have suggested that matches or some other method of lighting it should have been kept close to it. I fumbled around; I'm good at fumbling, found the matches and lit the lamp. Turning, I trod on Herman, he yelped.

I muttered a curse; the silence was rent by, first a creaky groan, then a resounding crash of the knocker at the cottage door followed by the same sounds repeated. The old iron bolt made a shocking noise and clunk as it hit the stop. The latch was equally noisy as it lifted. The hinges groaned eerily, I kept meaning to oil them, as I opened the door.

Of course, if it ended there, where would the story be? 

All hell broke loose as the old cottage door swung open. My hair in curlers. Face pack on, the guttering hurricane lamp held at waist level and my dear hungry old Herman howled in the most distressing way as dogs do.

I was shocked and horrified as the young man at the door collapsed to the floor with a blood curdling scream, his hair literally standing on end. I say young man, it was dark, and I just had a glimpse as he slid to the floor. Who ever he was he had imagination.

Leaving the cottage door open, I led Herman back to the kitchen, fed him, and closed the kitchen door, I knew Herman would be content there for a while. Passing the hall mirror I jumped out of my skin, catching sight of myself in the lamp light.

I put the lamp down, and carefully returned to the door. The lad was beginning to come round.

"Are you alright?"

He moaned.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, the electric has failed."

"I've broken down...my car...down the road"

He was as white as a sheet and shaking like a leaf as I helped him to his feet.

"You are quite safe...nothing here to hurt you...honestly." I smiled.

I led him to the kitchen, as I opened the door there was a deep throaty growl from Herman in the darkness of the kitchen.

"Good boy Herman, it's alright." The sounds in the darkness of his food bowl being pushed about on the flag stones said that he had returned to his dinner.

I pulled out a chair.

"Sit yourself down." I placed the hurricane lamp on the table.

"Let me get you a cup of tea." I had an old Aga cooker; the simmering kettle was only just off the boil.

As he supped the tea, gradually his apparent shock appeared to diminish, the tremors slowly dying away. Even his hair appeared no longer to be standing on end. 

Small talk, I thought. Well, as you do.

"What shall I call you, what's your name?"

I swear, you couldn't write it, no one would believe you if you did. Particularly with the course of events which had got us to this point. 

"Damien...Damien Spookes"

How did I ever keep a straight face?

"I don't mean to be rude, but when you opened the door, and the dog howled and all the scraping and creaking noises, and your appearance it scared the, excuse me, shit, out of me."

It wasn't kind of me I know, but I just had to laugh.

"With a name like that, YOU got scared?"

We both had to laugh.

" You had best call me Clarry, most of my friends do. How come I got the pleasure of your company?"

"That's a lousy road, I came round the bend the rain on my windscreen left me all but blind, I wasn't going fast, honest, the tree is down across the road and I skidded into it."

"How unfortunate."

"Yours was the only house I could see."

"It's a good job I was home."

"I almost wish you hadn't been, the scare you gave me. Can you phone the garage for me?"

"If the tree is down, the line will be too."

"How far is the garage?"

"About five miles, but they are not open at this time of the day."

"Not my day is it? Is there somewhere I can get a room?"

This young man, I'd put him at about 19, young enough to be my son, was actually quite presentable. Dark hair slicked down with Brylcream, clean shaven and suited, and it was the first time I had seen those new fangled winkle picker shoes, I guessed that the heels of those shoes was what made him roughly my height.

"Well, if you could put up with sleeping in this creepy old cottage, you could stay the night."

"Are you sure, it wouldn't put you out?"

"Of course not."

As I spoke, I half panicked, basically my home was a "bachelor pad" I had only one bedroom in use, heck, I was much too busy with my writing to clean and care for the parts of the house I didn't need. 

Of course girls, we are all geniuses aren't we and realization will confirm the fact that one person with one bedroom, will have...yes, one bed! Settee? Sofa? Nope!

"I suppose I had better offer you a meal...sausages or fish fingers? Bread...eggs & bacon?"

"Are you going to eat?"

"I suppose."

"Well, may I have the same as you?"

"Sausages it is then."

"Great." 

"Damien Spookes... what a name...Tell me about you. What are you doing in this neck of the woods?"

"Just passing through as I am going well, was going north. I heard that some guys were looking for someone to join a band, so I thought I would give it a try."

"And the car?"

"It's my dad's; I had to promise to look after it. He's going to kill me!"

"I doubt that young man, I doubt that; Dads have usually had accidents themselves now just relax and we will have a look at it in the morning."

Dinner, a highly sophisticated sausage, bacon, egg, and chips, with a glass of red, romantically illuminated by the hurricane lamp, passed without incident, well very nearly, there was something but not really an incident, I noticed that Damien was watching my neck line, well more my cleavage, what I had of it, my tits had headed south over the years, but he appeared fascinated.

Noticing that of course also had an effect. A tingle, for the want a better expression, down below, in the knickers department, well it would have been the knickers department had I been wearing any, as it was, I guess it was in the jungle area!

I expected the evening to be a little challenging as bedtime approached, and indeed, so it turned out to be. My thoughts had been on managing the bedroom situation, one bed, a double, two bodies, no bolster, a couple of spare blankets a spare pillow or two, and, if my observations were correct, a case of rampant male hormones, and a not dis-interested female.

How to manage the situation, how indeed?

"I guess that you are not inclined towards boys are you?"

"Not that I have noticed, girls seem to like bands, would be a bit of a waste."

"Just as I thought."

He blushed deeply.

I have told you of the run down state of the cottage, the need for maintenance. Well, you can stretch that need to almost everything to do with my old cottage, from the plumbing to the furniture, and not to put too fine a point on it, even to the bed. It should have been replaced years ago, but dammit, it was comfortable. I inherited it from my granny, well via my father but anyway, it could be traced back a few years. So it creaked a little, and had a copy of Dickens's Great Expectations, hard back, first edition, propping up one corner.

Great expectations? It had been a very long time since I had any expectations in that bed, let alone great ones!

Damien followed me up the creaking stair case. His hot breath on my rump, when I hesitated, he bumped into me.

"I have left everything in the car; I didn't expect to be away from it overnight."

The bedroom door latch clunked, and the hinges complained, they always did as the sturdy door opened to reveal the scene inside. I have to admit being just a little embarrassed as I realised that the chamber pot was visible beneath the bed. I bent, to move the useless reading light from the bedside cabinet, replacing it with the hurricane lamp.

I was aware that as I bent over my night gown had ridden up, being a long gown it had only revealed my calves to the young man behind me.

He coughed.

"I don't have any pyjamas."

"I have none to lend you, wear your shirt." 

Then thought, 'it's not going to be on for long... Shut up Clarry. What are you thinking, he's much too young?'

My loins didn't say that, I suppose a combination with my obsessive writing of naughty novels, and the close proximity of the youthful hormones and of course the length of time since I had a good rogering were leading me to an inevitable plateau of desire. (Desire? Well, it was turning to rampant lust really.)

To illuminate the bathroom for our ablutions, it was necessary to leave the door open. As I lifted my night dress to use the w.c...

"You will be a young gentleman won't you? I hope you won't be peeping?"

Some hope of that I thought, I could see him squinting into the gloom, in the hope I suspect of a glimpse of something he shouldn't.

Having pee'd I turned, first to cool my essentials with a wet flannel, the back of my night dress concealed me from behind as surely as the cold flannel brought forth life to my suddenly chilled being, then to clean my teeth. A hair net over my curlers completed my toilette.

In his turn, Damien stood before the w.c. his cock concealed in his hand, in the gloom I imagined that what I could see was at the very least a reasonable start to an erection, it was obvious that he was having some difficulty peeing.

"Do you need a hand?"

"No, I'll clean my teeth first, do you have a spare tooth brush."

"On the side, the blue one, and that wet flannel may help with the other problem."

"What other problem."

"Peeing."

I watched intently as he cleaned his teeth, he glanced over his shoulder, unbuckled his belt and allowed his trousers to fall to the floor, exposing his pale slightly hairy legs. His pants came down next, followed by a groan, as I suppose the cold wet flannel did its work, at a guess I would say it was a case of erect to flaccid in zero seconds. I shivered at the thought.

He shuffled to the toilet and pee'd long and noisily into the water before stepping from the trousers and pants swaddling his ankles. 

A little about the bed! 

It was, as I said, old. It had a substantial brass head and foot board, connected by old iron rails upon which were laid long boards, not fixed. About six inches above the boards, and attached at head and foot was a sheet spring type of thing. In appearance similar to a close knit chain link fence, don't ask how old it is, I think its original. It provided a beautiful soft springiness. On top again I had a, not too thick mattress, and a duvet finished a very comfortable nest. It was like sinking into a pair of loving arms, and I have spent many a winter night in its warm embrace.

Here I am, desperate to take advantage of the hormones screaming through that stormy night. Every other, and there had been just one or two, bed mate I had during my time at the cottage, had been sedate older gentlemen about my own age, and on at least one occasion, befuddled with drink. Simplicity Itself.

My recent experience of youth, my own long forgotten, was limited and I wasn't quite prepared for the level of enthusiasm my new found friend was to deliver.

I sneaked into the bed between the cover, determined to rid myself of the night dress yet conceal my aging frame from this youths eyes. I had done no such thing by the time he had reached the door.

"I always sleep on the left side of the bed," I told him, " so you can sleep on the right."

"No problem." He replied as he rounded the foot of the bed, his clothes in his arms, and his rigid cock sticking out from his shirt. 

He dropped his clothes, his shoes making a clatter as they hit the floor, then sat on the side of the bed.

"What about the door? You didn't close it."

"Sorry" he hurried to close it, totally unselfconscious of his cock bouncing in the cool air.

What happened next I would never have believed, he ran back to the bed, and launched himself at it. Well, as I told you, the bed had seen better days the under boards went flying, clattering to the floor beneath, the light mesh spring, mattress, the bedding, me and Damien all but disappeared into the hole the dislodged boards had created.

I couldn't move, my night dress which I had not managed to remove before he had initially entered the bedroom, was wrapped tight about me and this young bundle of hormones was on top of me further restricting my movement.

"Sorry..sorry...sorry, I didn't mean to break your bed."

Herman, in the kitchen was going demented. He wasn't used to such a racket disturbing the peace of the household.

"Just get off and get me out of here." 

He got off, and did his best, his rapidly diminishing erection disappearing behind the flap of his shirt, to haul me out of the hole he had dumped me into. Having pulled the duvet off, he took my hand and started to heave , I slithered to the side, my night dress falling back to expose my naked hairy.. you know what.

God, I was horny, knowing that I was exposed to his lustful gaze did nothing to cool my ardour, even if it had killed, hopefully only temporally, Damien's hard on. As I regained my feet, my night dress fell back to cover my cooling, moist essential.

"Don't just stand there gawping, you've seen a blinking fanny before haven't you?"

"Nnno, Nnno, not really!"

Suddenly his bravado had evaporated. So had his confidence.

"Just give me a hand to sort out this mess."

Together, we reconstructed the bed, the boards back in place...

"You could do with a few screws in that ." Damien suggested.

"It was the prospect of a screw that landed us in this situation." I countered.

He grinned, a sort of sickly, shy, grin.

...under the sheet spring, then the mattress and the bedding itself, I took the opportunity to put on fresh sheets. Damned stupid really given that I expected to be indulging in some potentially messy activities before the night was out.

Finally, the bed was ready, I turned back the bedding, the reconstruction of the bed had certainly warmed me. 

"Right, now into bed, unless you want to spend the night on the floor."

Damien started to move.

"Gently, I don't want the bed wrecked again."

I waited until he was into bed, he laid out flat, the bedding pulled up to his chin, before I extinguished the hurricane lamp and eased myself into the bed. I shivered as I cautiously pulled the covers over me.

Damien turned towards me.

"Clarry" his voice trembled as he spoke.

"Yeeeeees?"

" Sorry about the bed, I just didn't think."

"It Doesn' t matter now."

"Its not very warm is it"

"No power, No heating."

"Oh... of course, I didn't think."

"Here, snuggle up to me."

He started to shuffle closer to me.

"Gently mind."

I had my back to him as he snuggled close. A moment passed, then something stirred. He wriggled uncomfortably.

"Gently," I chided.

"I am sorry, I...I..."

"Just make yourself comfortable."

He did, his cock lodged between my cheeks...No, not my face, my arse cheeks. And, I have to say, the size of it was not a disappointment...lodged between my arse cheeks. 

His arms came around me and hugged me, muzzling into my neck. Fine!

Now you girls have to admit, you are all old enough know about these things, boys, young teen boys, they are horny, and it doesn't matter how hard they try, they just can't keep their hands to themselves....

Well dears, this one couldn't, I'm not complaining mind, I have needs, just like the rest of you, and when his hand reached my breast, I started to relax, happy to accept that my luck might be in. I am not sure if he took my relaxing to mean that I wasn't interested, or otherwise. I almost panicked, I didn't want him to stop at the first hurdle.

He was at this stage moving his hand outside of my night dress, I tried a hint, I pulled at the neckline to make things a little more accessible. He took advantage and his hand entered and stole down squeezing my breasts and seeking out my nipples.

I am sure, girls, that experience will confirm what I am about to say. With Damien's hand in the top of my night dress, his wrist pressed down as he fondled his new found treasure, which I assure you, I welcomed, the result was becoming more uncomfortable across the back of my neck.

"A little consideration young man, a little consideration."

"What's wrong?"

"You are making my neck uncomfortable."

"Should I stop?" he removed his hand.

"You could just change your approach."


'Twas a Dark and Stormy Night...



Eric was feeling down. Here he was, 23 years old, with a good job in computer repair, and a pleasant house that he was renting, but life had gone wrong. Amy, his longtime girlfriend who had been living with him had left. She said it was because her employer had transferred her to an office in a distant city. Eric suspected that she had requested, or at least, not resisted the transfer.

Eric heated some left-over pasta from the fridge and washed it down with a beer. A miserable meal to match the miserable world outside. There had been freezing wind and rain all day. It was now dark and lightning was flashing in the sky. At least the heater was working. Eric flicked through the TV channels but could find nothing of interest. Finally he found and old favourite DVD and loaded it into the player. He sat in his most comfortable chair with another beer and pressed the buttons on the remote control. Eventually the screen came to life and the show began. This made him feel even more lonely. He and Amy used to sit together to watch DVDs and cuddle and fondle each other. Eric had some very pleasant memories of Amy's breasts. And when he got an erection, he had to do all the fondling himself. It was little comfort to remember the quote that "masturbation is sex with someone you love."

Then there was an almighty clap of thunder and the power failed. No lights, no heat and no DVD. Eric felt his way out to the kitchen where he kept a battery-powered light he used for camping. With this he wandered back to his chair and pondered his future. Should he stay here and hope for another girl like Amy? Should he move to a small apartment and save money? Should he go off and chase Amy? There was no easy answer.

While Eric was trying to sort out his thoughts, the power came back on. After a few attempts he persuaded the DVD to start playing where he had left off and sat back hoping to escape life's problems. Perhaps he needed another drink ...

After about half an hour, there was a knock at the door. "Who on earth comes out on a night like this?" was his obvious thought as he made his way down the hallway. He switched on the light and opened the door to find a slim young lady looking very anxious.

"Hello," she said, "I'm sorry to bother you at such a time, but I was wondering whether you could help me. I am Ruth, a friend of Amy's, and live across the street. I see that the lights have come on along the street but mine aren't working. Amy says you deal in electrical things, so I thought you may be able to help. My real problem is that I am writing a thesis on my computer and need to keep working to meet the deadline."

"Sure," replied Eric. "I've seen you walking along the street sometime. Come and stand by my heater while I grab my lamp and a coat."

In a couple of minutes the pair cautiously made their way down the path, across the road and up the stairs of Ruth's apartment block. Eric shone his light around the foyer and stairs, looking for the electrical box. As Ruth unlocked her door, Eric found what he sought and was able to switch on a circuit breaker and get some light inside Ruth's apartment. 

"I'd better come in and check you have power where you do the computing," he commented. 

"Yes, come in and check it all while I pour you a drink. Would you like a rum and coke, or prefer something warmer on a night like this?"

"Rum and coke would be perfect," replied Eric, not sure of what to make of an almost unknown young lady offering him a drink.

So Eric sat on a couch in the room that served as Ruth's study, dining and TV room while Ruth busied herself in the kitchen. When she returned with the drinks, Ruth sat in what was obviously her favourite chair.

"How does a student like yourself afford a place like this?" asked Eric.

"Ah, my parents are hardworking, strict protestant types who have saved quite a bit of money and don't want their little daughter mixing with 'the wrong crowd.' They bought this place partly as an investment, and partly to keep me away from the evils of the world," replied Ruth.

"And have they succeeded?" asked Eric with a chuckle.

"Yes, I have learned to live by keeping to myself and studying hard. But it hasn't been so successful socially. I have few friends."

"I'm not sure how well I'm doing socially these days," added Eric. "You might not have noticed but Amy has left me and moved far away."

"That's terrible," replied Ruth. "I used to admire the way you and Amy were as a couple. I used to secretly envy you!"

"Well, envy us no longer," replied Eric. "Our world has fallen apart. I am thinking of moving away and downsizing. Your life is actually more stable than mine!"

Ruth left the room to refresh the drinks. Eric wondered how much more computer work she would do this evening.

"Tell me about your field of study," asked Eric when Ruth returned.

"I am studying for an advanced degree in particle physics," was Ruth's reply. "I know a lot about how particles behave according to set rules, but can never work out the rules governing human behaviour!"

"I have similar trouble," replied Eric. "I was fortunate to meet up with Amy who understood all those things so well. I am lost without her."

"I was actually quite envious of Amy. She had a better figure than myself and knew more of the social graces. I've always felt I was too thin where it matters and too awkward with people. People see me as a nerd. And I have always thought Amy did rather well in having you as her partner."

"Thin is considered very desirable in the fashion world. The world is full of people trying to lose weight - mostly without success!" was Eric's reply.

"I don't know much about boys," Ruth replied, "but I know they like to see some fullness around the bust and the bottom. I have neither. I used to think Amy had about the right sized breasts and used to imagine you playing with them!"

"That's very naughty of you!" replied Eric. "But it is true that I used to enjoy Amy's breasts. I used to get turned on by them and then proceed to other activities!"

"And I used to enjoy seeing you when you worked in the front garden without your shirt. I used to envy Amy having your body to cuddle and explore."

"You certainly have been using your imagination as you walk down the street!" was Eric's slightly tipsy reply.

"Well," said Ruth, "I am 22 years old and have never seen a real naked man, so I used to imagine you taking you clothes off with Amy! I couldn't quite imagine all the details, of course. Two drinks and now I have said too much - how embarrassing!"

"Don't be embarrassed - it is good to unwind and talk freely about our thoughts. I'm thinking you put a lot of rum in our drinks!"

"Yes, I was not expecting visitors so didn't have much Coke in the fridge, so I made up the volume with rum."

At that moment there was a bright flash of light followed soon afterwards by a loud crack of thunder. And then the lights went out again.

Eric commented, "The trouble is caused by those particles of yours. Electrons jump around in the sky releasing energy which comes in our windows as photons. I wouldn't be surprised if the particles haven't damaged the power transformer. I'm sure you know how to calculate how far away the lightning is - sound travels at 340 meters per second and that thunderclap took less than a second to get here. So say 200-300 metres away. That's probably the height of the clouds outside."

"Yes, I'd already done the calculation, and it quite scares me," was Ruth's reasoned reply. "It frightens me. I've seen some artificial lightning generated in the lab. And I know the power it contains. Sitting here in the dark with all that happening above me makes me quake."

"Then come over here when the next lightning flash shows the way, and sit next to me. We can live or die together."

"How very romantic," replied Ruth as she scurried over to the couch.

Eric put his arm around Ruth's shoulders and thought he detected a tremor. "Was that fear or excitement?" he wondered as Ruth moved a little closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I don't see you getting much more computing done tonight. What with repeated power failures and the rum!"

"I'm not so worried now - I have good company, and you are letting me relax."

Another flash and thunderclap made Ruth move closer to Eric. Eric tried to calm her my gently moving his hand up and down Ruth's upper arm. Ruth gently took Eric's hand and placed it under her arm and against her chest, letting him feel her breast. Eric realised the Ruth was not wearing a bra and because the heater was off and the temperature dropping, her nipple was very prominent. He rolled it between thumb and forefinger.

"What do you think?" asked Ruth.

"About what?"

"My breast. Is it big enough for you?"

"It is a real handful," was Eric's quick reply. "I suspect you could be described as a real handful in many ways!"

"I've been a student all my life, and I'm still willing to learn. What can you teach me?"

"I could nibble your nipples the way I used to do it for Amy. Would you like that?"

"Yes, please. As I said, I used to imagine you playing with Amy's breasts," replied Ruth taking her T-shirt off quickly.

So Eric gave Ruth the full treatment, accompanied by some sighs of delight from Ruth. He then took his own jumper and shirt off and placed her hand on his chest, letting her feel the hairs.

"I've never felt a man's chest before," commented Ruth.

"There is more than that to feel!" replied Eric leaning in for a kiss. "But there isn't a lot more to see in this darkness."

"Lend me your lamp and I'll try and fix that," said Ruth who took the lamp out into the kitchen. She returned with some candles and a box of matches. With difficulty she set a lighted candle in each of their empty drink glasses.

Eric could now see clear outlines of Ruth's small but perky breasts. And the nipples were protruding beautifully. He gave her another kiss and a cuddle. But Ruth was not so easily satisfied. She had often dreamed of this moment and wasn't going to let it slip away.

"So what else do you have to show me?" she asked.

"It depends on what interests you."

"As I said I've never seen a live naked man, and I used to admire what I could see when you were working in your garden just wearing shorts. I would like to see the rest, if that's OK."

So Eric took a few steps away, loosened his belt and dropped his jeans.

"More, more!" cried Ruth. "I've seen that bit!"

So Eric pulled down his underpants and stepped out of them.

"That's better," said Ruth. "A cute bottom, and not too hairy."

"This is getting embarrassing," complained Eric. "Getting undressed in front of another person is not easy. It's better if two people do it together."

"My friends tell me that if they show their breasts to a boy, he will usually show them anything they ask. The university girls sit around comparing notes of what they have seen, and how often."

Eric turned around and let Ruth see his half erection in the flickering light.

"Come here, I want a feel," ordered Ruth.

Ruth fondled Eric's penis and his balls. His erection increased to near full size.

"I like the way it grows," was her comment. "Did Amy enjoy this?"

"Amy used to play with it and make it grow. And then we'd end up having sex after which it shrank!"

"Would you do that with me?" asked Ruth.

"But what about precautions?" replied Eric.

"Don't worry, I am on contraceptive pills to regulate my periods and reduce period pain," was the reply.

So, like a religious procession, Ruth and Eric set off to the bedroom carrying a candle each. When the got there, Ruth unceremoniously removed her jeans and panties and gave Eric a hug. 

"Now climb in big boy and show me what to do. And don't take too long about it I am rearing to go."

So with a few simple kisses to mouth and breasts, Eric felt for Ruth's vagina. He noted that there was plenty of lubrication - she certainly was a girl in a hurry. So he climbed on top of her and gently introduced his penis.

"Don't stop there," ordered Ruth as she arched her back towards him. With a quick "Ah" from Ruth, he was in more deeply.

"Give it another push," was Ruth's further order. "I might be a small girl, but I'm sure I can take a full-sized penis."

Eric pushed hard and started to pump her. If anything her smallness had produced a tighter vagina and so was more enjoyable. "Something to remember for the future," he noted to himself.

It wasn't long before Ruth started to breathe more heavily and utter some oohs and aahs. These increased until she called out "Oh, Eric, you've done it!" as she dug her nails into Eric's buttocks.

Eric came soon after and felt that warm glow of success. He lay back and put an arm around Ruth.

"We did it. And now you know what it's all about. It's no longer just scientific knowledge for you."

"I'm very pleased," replied Ruth, "It's been a long time coming, if I can say that. And now I hear the rain teaming down on the roof. How about you stay here the night and we'll look at the electrics in the morning?"

"Yes, indeed, a good idea. And who knows what might pop up during the night?" was Eric's sleepy reply.



Twas a Dark and Stormy Night



I took his hand, and lead it down to the hem of my nightdress and let it go. Silence fell once again, silence, apart from heavy breathing from two warming souls and the creaking of the bed. His hand on my thigh was a welcome treat, I was so pleased that he had warmed his hand on my bosom before I had introduced him to my nether regions.

Slowly his hand crept upward beneath my gown, he didn't at this stage achieve his initial goal, no, his first contact was my diminishing fur coat. It stopped his progress as he, and I enjoyed his exploration of cock alley.

"Urmmm, that's nice." I murmured

Damien didn't respond in words, but shuffled himself so that his cock nestled into its place between my, covered I might add, buttocks. Parting my curls, he discovered my furrow, tracing that he found little need to create lubrication, I was quite moist before he even touched.

I savoured his touch and eagerly awaited his progress, by way of encouragement I wriggled back against his rigidity. I was, becoming more and more aroused, I needed to feel cock so eased the back of my gown up, we achieved cock on skin. His cock lodged between my arse cheeks. In the same moment, amid the wriggling and fidgeting, his nimble fingers encountered my clit. A shiver rippled through me, that frisson that comes with first touch.

"Ooooh Damien, that is so so naughty, and you promised that you would be a gentleman."

"You are being naughty too, how can I not be, it's you that's making me... oh my god, you are so wet down here." 

His fingers delved deeper into my furrow, it took but moments for him to reach the ultimate goal and sink to his very knuckles in my, now aching chasm.

I eased my thighs apart, not only giving him better access but also offering greater temptation.

"Pop it in dear boy, pop it in!" I needed to feel that purple plum in me.

There was pressure on my sphincter, then penetration. I groaned, not necessarily with pleasure, more, disappointment.

"You are very tight, has it been a long time? My knob is a bit bigger than my finger, do you think it will go in? It is a bit dry too."

"If you get your finger out of my arse, that will be a start."

"Ooooh, sorry...I thought..."

I felt the sort of plop as his finger left me and my sphincter snapped closed behind it. Don't get me wrong, under the right circumstances, and with appropriate and adequate lubrication...

"Now, do I have to lead you through everything, you implied that you weren't a virgin..." 

"I didn't say I actually..."

"Just find the wet bit...Yes, that's it, down there."

His knob slid along the wet furrow, from the rear.

"Now, just aim it upwards a bit...That's it, you've got it."

At that point, disaster! With a ruddy gush , the beans were spilt, the throb of his first pulse jerked the knob out of its resting place, a jet of hot cum hit my clit, I orgasmed, violently, complete with involuntary thrusts of my pelvis.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Oh shut up, just hold me tight, we will just have to ride this one out and put it down as experience."

Girls, you must have had one of these yourselves, these young cocks seem to produce gallons of the stuff, and if it was a good as they say for the skin then , my thighs were going to be the most wrinkle free in England.

I moaned, and clamped my legs together, gripping Damien's cock firmly, as he continued his apologies. Fortunately, my night dress caught the overspill of his loins or the bed would have been soaked.

Releasing Him, I rolled over onto my back, rolling my night dress up and taking it off as I did so. The gobbits of semen on my thighs, and in my curls sparkled in the guttering light of the lamp.

Damien looked upon my nakedness and reached to fondle my breasts.

"I don't think so young man, there is a price to pay for this little mess."

"A price?" his cock which had not diminished until then, started to wilt.

"This mess needs to be cleaned up, so, between my thighs and start licking." 

He made a face which indicated that he didn't really fancy the idea...

"You may have guessed that I am a witch. I just hoped my face didn't give away the jest, I could always make it so you would never have to do it again."

"Could you? How." 

"Oh, quite simple, I will just get this cup of water, pour it over your cock, and with a suitable incantation, hey presto, no more erections, no more cums, no more mess, forever, simple and straight forward. A copybook beginners incantation which we all learn when we take up the calling." 

I giggled inwardly, would he actually be gullible enough to believe this old guff. 

"I think I will just give it a try." He crawled between my spread thighs and started the task. "Its actually not as bad as I thought it would be. I think I will enjoy this little job."

He lifted his head to look then with his thumbs parted my furrow, I just hoped that some of his cream had flowed there. Whether it had or not, Damien started licking, long, strong, positive licks. On each stroke, licked from just in front of my anus right to the front I lifted my hips to meet him. I was becoming more and more excited, more and more aroused.

Until, with a shriek which coincided with a flash of lightening and crash of thunder I hit my climax. There was another noise, as I brought my legs together about Damien's ears, I sincerely hoped that it was a fart, because if not, there would have been another mess to clear up. I hoped he had not actually shit himself. Poor old Herman down in the kitchen had been disturbed and was barking fit to bust. I was too busy thrusting my pelvis into Damien's face and writhing in ecstasy to be concerned with either worrying about soothing the dog, or for that matter whether I was breaking Damien's neck, gripped as it was between my knees.

I did eventually calm down, Herman went back to sleep, and when I released him, Damien fell sideways on the bed.

He just kept muttering.

"Fucking hell, fucking hell, fucking hell, what was that?"

"That young man was one heck of a wicked woman's magic orgasm!" 

"Come again?"

"I'd love to, is your broom stick ready?"

"Uuuhm"

"Yes, I can see it is, now I can ride off on it, my pussy will be pleased."

Pushing him down onto the rickety bed, I straddled his throbbing cock, hoping against hope that he wasn't a one shot guy, though at his age I had every faith that I would achieve the desired result. 

His cock at about seven inches, no I didn't measure it, I am guessing, was not the longest I had enjoyed, but the purple head which topped it was without doubt the largest I had ever had between either set of lips.

This time the lower lips were being stretched, and that in itself was stimulation enough to get me creaming yet again. 

Damien groaned as I engulfed his knob and sank down upon it. 

I had on numerous occasions ridden to hounds, and the English seat, the rise and fall of the pelvis as one rode was akin to the thrusting motion of satisfying sex. I started, I started, rising and falling upon the phallus of my young stead, I rode, and rode, enjoying the sensation of this knob coursing through my inner being. 

I savoured every moment, every movement, rising so far as to have the knob half out of my cunny to then descend again to get the sensation of it splitting my lips apart again before it made glorious contact with my cervix to restart the whole cycle again...and again... and again Oh my god It was such a sensation I wanted it to go on forever, forever forever. 

I knew of course that it could not and this time the eruption of Damien's life giving elixir drenched my inner cavity as it should have originally. I bore down on him as he started to cum, the gobbits blasting against my cervix as I ground my clitoris into the hairy course covering of his pubic bone.

My hair hung in sweaty ringlets about my face, I leaned forward and dangled my sagging titties, nipples as stiff as corks, just out of his initial reach. 

He flicked his tongue, which although he missed my nipples, was as stimulating as if he had suckled. He raised his head, and after a further attempt caught the nipple, first between his lips, then more firmly between his teeth. That nip... quite tender really was sufficient to do for my restraint, and my juices joined his as I crashed into a gratifying orgasm of unexpected strength.

I gripped his thighs, sought out his lips and locked them with mine, first lip on lip then I raped his mouth with my tongue he responded as we fenced, tongue with tongue exchanging saliva as well as the other bodily fluids in my cunny.

As my orgasm ebbed away I resumed the pelvic thrusts, gently, almost imperceptibly at first, his body, saturated with our combined juices well lubricated to ease the friction of my thrusting.

Damien remained firm, embedded in cock alley. As my thrusts stimulated him he regained the solidity of youth. With, at first occasional, throbs , increasing in vigor as the momentum built. Suddenly, although it was after some period of time we found ourselves racing once again for the finish.

We paused.

I turned, leaned forward and grasped his ankles exposing myself as lewdly as possible to his youthful , lustful gaze. I lowered my shoulders and eased forward. I could feel his knob about half out of my well creamed cunny, knowing full well that it presented a image so stimulating that grown men had been known to blow their wad at the critical point. 

After several more presentations I heard a groan, and felt a somewhat deeper throb between my lips. I thrust back, the timing was everything and the first of his now diminishing wads cannoned into my cervix, I sat back onto Damien's pelvis to get his cock as far up me as I could. 

The cockerel crowed, and I noticed that the room was lit by the dawn, where had the night gone? I had no sleep, and neither had Damien. The storm had passed, pleasantly for me I must say, the birds were singing, I was exhausted. All was right with the world.

The garage came out to the car, it was nothing too serious, but would take a day or so to repair.

Damien stayed just one more night, and minor, less athletic copulations were enjoyed by both of us. Unfortunately we were both too tired from the encounters of the first night for more. 

We parted, Damien to return home, he had missed his opportunity with this particular band, and me to my novel. I planned to use the experience to provide a saleable book, it wasn't to be. I decided that if the sex was taken out of the equation that there was no real relationship, no great conflict, just a cock and a cunny and a whole lot of fun. 

Damien did promise to call when he was next passing, I told him there was a bed here any time, at a modest rent of course. 

It happened about a year later, and a jolly time was had, things were a little different, he had phoned ahead so I was dressed albeit sans knickers, and ready for him. 

We passed a number of hours in athletic pursuits, Al Fresco, under the apple tree in the garden, caught bending over the kitchen table, he was clearly more experienced. Bedtime was far more sedate, although he did ask me to do his favourite position, you can guess which it was, which of course I did, and which he told me he had periodically masturbated over the enduring image of. 

There was a second visit, a further year on...things were different, there were three of us, I didn't get to sample again his generous juicy knob. Jane was a rather sweet young blonde, they looked good together.

We hugged as we parted.

"You aren't really a witch are you?" she asked

I winked.

I do still get a Christmas card from them, they had three boys and a girl, they named her Jessica Clarissa, she is the image of her mother. 

I hope the three boys are blessed with their father's attribute , if they are, there will be some very happy ladies about.

XXX