Completing The Set

Author’s note. This is a work of pure fantasy in which all characters are aged eighteen or older. All sexual acts described are consensual.

Part One: Olwen and Sid (September 1945)

World War Two was officially over. The staff and pupils of the village school gathered together in the school yard for a whole school assembly. Everybody associated with the school wanted to give thanks for victory, to remember the brave men and women who had gone to war six years earlier, and who would not be returning home, and also to say ‘farewell’ to the evacuees, who would soon be returning to the cities and towns from where they had been moved to escape the bombing.

Hymns of thanksgiving were sung, prayers of gratitude recited and finally it was time to go home. School was over for yet another day. Just before he dismissed the children in classroom order, youngest to oldest, the head master Mr. Sidney Jenkins made a plea to the teaching staff to stay behind for a few moments after the children had left.

All five teachers looked at one another in amazement. What could the head master want with five unmarried women? (All the male staff had been called up, and Mr. Jenkins only avoided being called up himself due to having a weak chest as a result of being gassed in the so-called Great War of 1914-18). They soon found out.

Mr. Jenkins summoned them all to his study. When they had all congregated there, he invited them to sit down. Lighting his pipe, he invited his staff to smoke if they so wished. Four teachers gratefully lit up cigarettes. Miss Olwen Simpson did not.

“Ladies, I am instructed by the Education Board to thank you for your sterling work during the course of the recent hostilities,” Sidney began.

“With the evacuees being returned home, school life will quickly return to normal. I will be outlining my plans for the rest of this term in due course. You will each be required to attend a meeting with me in order that I may instruct you as to your duties now that the war is over.”

“To that end, I propose to begin these meetings straight away. Miss Simpson, as you teach the youngest of our pupils, you are to be interviewed first. The rest of you may leave, and I will summon each of you in turn tomorrow morning.”

As they got up to leave, cigarettes were stubbed out into the ashtray on Mr. Jenkins’s desk. Respectable women did not smoke in public in 1945.

“How is Mrs. Jenkins coming along, sir?” asked Miss Barnes. She was enquiring about the head master’s wife, who was in the latter stages of pregnancy.

“We all send her our best wishes and our hopes that she will be safely delivered before too long.”

“It is very kind of you to ask,” smiled Sidney. “Cecilia is very well, thank you. We are both hoping and praying for a healthy baby.”

The four teachers trooped out, wishing the head master and Olwen a good evening. When they had gone, Olwen stood up and closed the door to the headmaster’s study.

At twenty years of age, Olwen was the youngest member of staff in the school. She had reached the grand old age of twenty the previous July, but with the war still raging, celebrations had been very muted.

A former pupil-teacher (she had been considered bright enough to help with some of the younger children whilst still a pupil at the school herself), Olwen was now an invaluable member of staff. She was popular with colleagues, pupils and parents, and enjoyed her chosen profession immensely.

She returned to the chair she had just vacated and sat down.

“So, Mrs. Jenkins is very well, is she? Does that mean that Mr. Jenkins no longer requires my services? Is that what this meeting is all about?”

“No, not at all, my dear,” replied Sidney, putting his pipe down into the ash tray. “Cecilia is still refusing to let me sleep in the same bed as her. We haven’t had sex since we discovered that Cissy was expecting. I want you very badly.”

Olwen stood up again and smiled.

“Well what Daddy wants, Daddy must have,” she said, licking her lips and staring at Sidney’s crotch.

“How do you want me?” she asked mischievously. “Over your desk, as usual?”

“Yes please, my dear,” came the reply as Sidney also stood up and unzipped his trousers. As he walked around the desk, he took out his cock, which was already hard. Olwen bent over the head master’s large desk and waited to feel his cock inside her. She loved being fucked doggy style, and for it to happen in the head master’s study was doubly exciting.

Sidney carefully lifted up her skirt and rubbed his hands over Olwen’s arse, which was adorned with serge blue elasticated bloomers. He stopped and hesitated, then he pulled them down to her knees in one swift motion.

Olwen felt him fingering her cunt, and sighed with pleasure. Fucking was such a wonderful experience, and Sidney had a lovely cock. It was long and thin and it always slid into her so easily. She heard his breathing increase as his fingers discovered her wetness.

“I love it when you finger me, Daddy,” she said in her little girl voice that she knew Sidney liked her to use. “Please put your cock in me now. Olwen needs to be fucked.”

Sidney also liked his young lover to use foul language. He grunted with pleasure as he replaced his fingers with his cock, and pushed it into her young, supple cunt. She moaned with pleasure as she felt herself being filled. Sidney began to fuck her, grunting with the effort of each thrust.

Olwen reached out and picked up Sidney’s pipe from the ashtray. She slipped the stem between her lips and puffed experimentally. The smoke was cool and tasted like nothing Olwen had experienced before. She quite liked it. She smoked serenely as Sidney continued to fuck her.

He never took long to cum. Three minutes after putting his cock in her, Sidney shot a load of cum into his young mistress’s cunt. Satisfied, he pulled out straight away, and tucked his cock back into his trousers. Olwen replaced his pipe in the ashtray and pulled her bloomers up. She turned around and smiled at the headmaster.

“Thank you Sir,” she said formally, and bent to pick her handbag up. “I’ll be getting off home then. Straight into the bath for me. I don’t want to find myself in the same condition as Mrs. Jenkins, do I?”

Sidney looked appalled at the suggestion.

“You make sure you clean yourself thoroughly,” he instructed. “I don’t want any scandal attached to me or to this school.”

“What a funny way he puts things,” Olwen thought to herself as she hurried home. Her mother, Alice, would have the kettle on the range in the kitchen, so she’d be assured of plenty of hot water for the tin bath that was kept hanging on the back of the scullery door. Mum would disappear to give her some privacy whilst she bathed, but not before she’d reminded her that her father would be home soon, so Olwen would not have time to linger in the bath in front of the kitchen fire.

She slid into the lovely warm water and reached for the sponge loofah. Her cunt opened up easily as she slid it into herself, shivering with pleasure as she felt the soft roughness on her still tender cunt walls. She pushed it in a bit further, to make sure she got every last bit of Sidney’s cum out of herself.

Working the loofah in and out of her cunt, Olwen giggled. It was as if she was fucking herself. And the sensation was almost as nice as when Sidney was using his cock to fuck her. She continued to use the loofah to clean herself out and the motion caused the bath water to slop over the side and splash onto the stone slabs of the kitchen floor.

“Damnation!” hissed Olwen quietly. Unlike her head master, neither of Olwen’s parents approved of foul language.

Later, Olwen, pink and smelling sweet, helped her mother to prepare tea for all the family. She also helped with the washing up after the meal. Olwen’s dad went out to the back garden to tend to his vegetable plot, and to smoke his pipe. Like most married men of that time, he regarded himself as the head of the household, but Alice ruled the roost indoors, and she didn’t approve of smoking indoors.

Looking out through the kitchen window as she dried the dishes that Alice had washed up in the sink, Olwen smiled as she saw her father puffing contentedly on his pipe. She’d really enjoyed smoking Sidney’s pipe whilst he was fucking her. She wondered if she might take a bus trip down to the tobacconist’s shop in the next town and buy herself a pipe and some tobacco. It was certainly something to think about.

When it was too dark to do anything else in the garden, Olwen’s dad came back into the house, and the three of them sat in the parlour and listened to the news on the radio on the Home Service of the BBC.

The war in Europe might well have finished, but fighting continued in the far East, where Allied forces were slowly but surely getting the upper hand against the stubborn resistance put up by the Japanese army, the news reader informed his listeners in his very correct, received pronunciation. Only men could be trusted to deliver such vital news to the general public, and even then, only men who spoke correctly, and with no regional accent.

At half past nine, Olwen yawned and stood up.

“I’m off to bed,” she announced. “It’s a school day tomorrow, and Mr Jenkins wants to interview everybody to let us know the new arrangements.” She blushed slightly as she remembered being bent over the head master’s desk and fucked. Neither of her parents noticed her embarrassment, and Olwen enjoyed the memory and the tingling that it caused between her legs.

She kissed her mother and father goodnight, and went out to the garden, to the cold, dark toilet closet, where she had a pee. Shivering, she came back into the warm kitchen, washed her hands and face and went upstairs to bed. Her parents were still listening to the radio in the parlour.

She undressed quickly and pulled on her nightgown. She jumped into bed, shivering as the cold sheets gave her goose flesh. Snuggling down, she pulled the blankets and the eiderdown up to her chin, and settled down to sleep.

But sleep wouldn’t come. Olwen tossed and turned for a while, thinking about how different the world was about to become now that the war was over. She had a decision to make. Would she carry on with her career as a teacher, or get married and start a family? She couldn’t do both. If she married, she’d be forced to leave the teaching profession.

Pondering about marriage led her to remember that afternoon’s happenings. She loved being fucked. Her hand slipped between her legs and she touched herself through her nightgown. That felt nice. She thought about Sid’s cock and how he used it on her. She rubbed herself and felt the heat begin to flow out of her cunt.

Quickly she raised her bum off the mattress and yanked the hem of her nightgown up. She spread her legs and slipped a finger inside herself. Oh! That felt good!

Olwen began to finger fuck herself. She loved the sensation that her finger was creating deep in her cunt. She moved her finger faster and also went in deeper. This being the first time that Olwen had ever masturbated, she was rather startled when her clit began to get interested in what was happening.

It emerged from underneath its protective hood, and reacted to Olwen’s finger. “What a gorgeous sensation!” thought Olwen as her finger flashed in and out of her cunt.

Olwen’s breathing was fast and ragged by now. She let out an involuntary moan of pleasure, and stopped fingering, horrified at the sound she’d made. Had her parents heard her?

Judging from the muffled sound of the radio from the parlour, which was quickly followed by both her parents’ laughter, they hadn’t heard her moan. Olwen started to wank once more.

Her clit reacted immediately. She felt her wetness, smelled her arousal. Her nipples hardened and rubbed against the course material of her nightgown, adding to her pleasure.

Lights flashed in her head, she felt a sensation in the pit of her stomach that she’d never experienced before. As her fingers (she had two inside herself by now) continued to stimulate that little nub of flesh that felt almost like a small cock, Olwen imagined that she’d wet the bed.

A burst of thick, pungent liquid squirted out of her cunt, soaking her nightgown and her thighs and leaving a very wet patch on the sheet covering the mattress. Olwen withdrew her fingers, which were sticky with the juice she’d secreted.

Carefully she sniffed her fingers. Well. it wasn’t pee, she decided. It was much too thick and pungent to be that. Gingerly, she put out her tongue and tasted it. Oh my! It was delicious! Olwen sucked her fingers clean, loving the taste of herself. She fell asleep almost immediately, totally unaware that she had just given herself her first ever orgasm. It was to be the first of thousands.

Back at school the next day, Olwen was very busy, teaching her own class and covering for her colleagues who were being individually interviewed by the head master.

The interviews were concluded by mid-afternoon, and after school finished for the day and the children had all gone home, Mr. Jenkins summoned the staff to his study for a brief meeting.

“Thank you all for your co-operation and your understanding,” he began, puffing on his pipe and smiling at each of the five women who were seated in a semi-circle in front of his desk.

“I have been informed that we are getting a new school secretary,” he informed his staff. “I’m sure that will come as a relief to Miss Simpson, who has been doing the job for the duration of the hostilities in addition to her teaching duties.”

Olwen blushed and nodded her thanks to her colleagues, all of whom were grateful that the filing, record keeping, letter writing and all the other administrative duties which needed to be done to ensure that the school operated smoothly, had been carried out by someone other than themselves.

“Interviews will be held next week, and I’m hoping the successful applicant will commence her duties after half term,” Mr. Jenkins continued. He looked at each teacher in turn.

“Now go home, ladies,” he smiled. “You’ve all been told of your new duties and which classes you will be teaching from next Monday. I’m confident that our school will soon return to normal. Thank you all once again.”

He stood up and carefully put his pipe into the large glass ashtray on his desk.

“Miss Simpson,” he said as everybody got up from their seats, “may I impose on your time for a little longer? I want to ensure that I am fully up to date with the administration side of things. I’d like you to stay on for a few minutes so that you can bring me up to date. Then I can ask pertinent questions of the candidates next week.”

“Certainly, Sir,” answered Olwen demurely. She felt that tingle in her cunt and her nipples started to harden.

“Oh goody!” she thought with a grin, remembering the sensation she had brought about in her cunt last evening. “I’m going to be fucked again!”

No sooner had the rest of the staff left than Olwen was bent over the headmaster’s desk. She shivered in anticipation as she felt him approach her from behind. Her skirt was raised and her bloomers taken down. Sidney rubbed his hand over her arse and she opened her legs to give him access to her cunt.

He slid his fingers in and gave a grunt of approval.

“How long have you been thinking about this, you little trollop?” he hissed in her ear, putting his cock against her cunt slit and rubbing it up and down.

“All afternoon, Sir,” answered Olwen truthfully. “Please put your cock in me and fuck me like a little trollop. I want to please you.”

Sidney slid into her. She was very wet and as he bottomed out, her cunt gave a delicious wet fart. This seemed to excite Sidney and he began to fuck her vigorously.

Olwen reached over and picked up his pipe. She sucked on the stem and her mouth filled with cool, tasty smoke. She held it in for a few seconds and exhaled through her nostrils. She savoured the taste that the smoke left in her mouth.

Sidney was panting like a man who had run a marathon race. He was banging in and out of Olwen with the regularity of a piston. He grunted and increased his pace as Olwen smoked.

All too soon, Olwen felt his cock jerk inside her and her cunt was flooded with hot cum. One eruption was followed by another and another and then Sidney’s cock shrivelled up and plopped out of her.

Olwen was both confused and frustrated. Where was the deluge of liquid that she’d produced whilst fingering herself? Why was that little nub of flesh still hard and desirous of more stimulation. When would Olwen cum too?

She felt a slap on her arse cheek and heard Sidney say,

“Pull your bloomers up. You may go. I’ll sort out the questions for the candidates myself.”

Feeling very frustrated, Olwen did as she was told. She bade Mr. Jenkins a very good night and went straight to the staff toilet. If she’d gone home and had another bath, her mother would have been very suspicious. Instead, Olwen ran some water into the hand basin and using wads of toilet paper, she cleaned herself out, using her finger to check that all Mr. Jenkins’s cum was removed from her still very wet cunt. She went home in a very bad mood.

At morning break time the next day, a message came for the headmaster. His wife had gone into labour, so at dinner time, Sidney rushed home. He returned to school that afternoon with the news that his wife, Cecilia had given him a son. The news spread around the school and an assembly was called to give thanks and to congratulate the new father.

After school, Olwen lingered in the hope of being put across the headmaster’s desk and fucked. She made an excuse to knock on his door when she was sure everyone else had gone home, but found his room empty. She wondered when she’d next have the opportunity to get together with the headmaster and enjoy feeling his cock inside her. Unbeknown to her, it was to be a very long time. She knew that she had to be subtle, and she was, but despite all her hints and the several opportunities that came their way, Sidney ignored Olwen.

He studiously avoided being alone in her company, and spoke to her only about matters that related to school. When Olwen did manage to ask if everything was alright, he snapped at her, telling her to mind her own business and concentrate on the only matter to concern her, the education of her class of five year olds.

Olwen was devastated. Even more so when the new school secretary was appointed. Mrs. Conway was in her early forties, a war widow who had been forced back into employment to make ends meet when her husband was amongst the hundreds of thousands of victims who died in the forced labour camps in the Far East.

Sidney seemed to be paying an awful lot of attention to Mrs. Conway, from the moment she took up her post. He seemed to spend long periods of time in the secretary’s office, and the door was always closed. Rumours began to circulate amongst the staff, and Olwen slowly began to realise that she had been replaced as the headmaster’s object of affection.

About six weeks after the birth of his son, Mr Jenkins made the announcement to his staff that Mrs. Jenkins would be visiting the school that afternoon, so that every member of staff could be introduced to his new son.

The children had all gone home, and the staff gathered in Mr. Jenkins’s room to be introduced to little Leslie. They all knew Mrs. Jenkins, of course and she proudly held her infant son for all to see.

The staff had all made a donation, and Leslie was presented with a big teddy bear for his cot. Olwen had been charged with buying it, and when she presented it to Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, everybody clapped.

The recipient of the gift bawled his eyes out when he saw the brown furry creature, and Mrs. Jenkins stood up and cuddled him in an attempt to pacify him. But Leslie would not stop crying, so he was put in his pram, and mother and baby bade everyone a hurried farewell. Olwen was upset that the present had caused the young lad so much distress. She followed Mrs. Jenkins out to make sure that everything was alright, and to apologise for upsetting young Leslie.

In the school yard, Mrs. Jenkins’s face was as angry as Olwen had ever seen it. She approached the head master’s wife nervously.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Jenkins,” she began, “If you would like me to exchange the teddy bear for something less upsetting, I’ll be happy to do so.”

“What I would like, you filthy whore, is for you to keep your legs closed and not try to bewitch my husband with your filthy behaviour,” came the vicious reply.

“If I hear that you’ve been with my Sidney again, I’ll let the school board know, and you’ll be finished! I suggest that you resign, and look for another school as far away from here as possible. Now I’m going home to prepare tea for my husband.”

Without another word, Mrs. Jenkins turned on her heel and stalked off across the school yard. Olwen fought back the tears and returned to the staff room.

Everyone was preparing to go home. Mrs. Conway stood beside Mr. Jenkins as the teaching staff trooped out. Olwen picked up her handbag, and was about to leave when Mrs. Conway spoke up.

“Oh, Miss Simpson, would you wait a few minutes, please,” she said with a malicious look on her face. “The head master has something to tell you.”

Olwen looked at Sidney hopefully. He looked straight through her.

“Sit down, Miss Simpson,” he said formally. “Mrs. Conway will remain and take notes of this meeting.”

Olwen looked confused.

“Is something wrong, Sir?” she asked formally, as she sat down on the opposite side of the headmaster’s desk.

“Not unless you make things complicated,” answered the headmaster, fiddling with his pipe and avoiding looking at Olwen.

“I’m afraid that we have to lose a member of staff,” he continued. “You are the least qualified person on my teaching staff. It has to be you, I’m afraid.”

“You’re sacking me?” asked Olwen in a horrified voice. “But we’ve been…”

“Be very careful, Miss Simpson,” interrupted Mrs. Conway. “The head master is not sacking you. A teaching position has become available in the school five miles up the road. Mr Jenkins will give you an excellent reference, and will recommend you to the school board. I suggest you think it over and return in the morning with your letter of resignation. That will be all, I think. Good evening, Miss Simpson.”

Olwen looked at Sidney, but he still wouldn’t meet her eye. He said nothing, but continued to fiddle with his pipe. Olwen got up and went out with as much dignity as she could manage.

She returned the next day with her neatly written letter of resignation. Everything went smoothly after that. She was interviewed for the post in the new school,, and got the job. She managed to persuade her parents that she was moving to improve her prospects, and they accepted that without question. Olwen never spoke to Sidney again, and it was an awful long time before she had the pleasure of being fucked again. When that time came, it was from a very unexpected source indeed.

Part Two: Olwen and Les (July 1970)

It was the last day of term, and the summer holidays beckoned. Six weeks of freedom! The children were all excited, looking forward to long sunny days with no lessons. The staff were almost as excited as their pupils. The head mistress, Mrs. Wilson beamed out across the packed school hall and clapped her hands for silence.

“Thank you all for all your hard work this year,” she smiled. “Now it’s almost time to go home. But before we go, there are two things left to do. We must bid ‘farewell’ to all our Standard Four pupils, who will be leaving us for the last time today.”

“In September, they will all begin their studies at the big school, but we want them to know that they have all done themselves and our school, proud this year. Their teacher, Miss Simpson has told me that she will miss them all dreadfully, but that she expects them to keep working hard at their lessons.”

Everybody laughed. Miss Simpson was the most experienced member of staff, well liked by colleagues and pupils, but she had a reputation for strict discipline in her classroom. No-one played Miss Simpson up!

Mrs Wilson waited for quiet and then continued.

“Speaking of Miss Simpson,” she said, looking at her colleague with a sly grin, “today is a very special day. It’s Miss Simpson’s birthday. Let’s all sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her, shall we?”

The song was duly sung, and in no time at all, school was over for another year. As she waited for the bus to arrive to take her home, forty-odd year old Olwen Simpson’s thoughts began to wander towards the holiday she had booked in Greece. She smiled to herself.

A fortnight on a tiny Greek island, where no-one knew her, and where she could hopefully have one of those holiday romances with a swarthy local. She was looking forward to plenty of sun, local food and drink and with a bit of luck, lots of lovely sex.

Tonight, she would celebrate at home. Admittedly she would be alone, but she’d bought herself a thick pork chop, some fresh vegetables and there was a bottle of champagne cooling in the fridge.

She got off the bus and walked the thirty yards or so to her house. It was the same house she had been born in, and grown up in, with her parents. They were both long gone, disappointed that Olwen had never managed to find herself a husband, but very proud of her achievements as a school teacher.

Olwen let herself in and closed the front door on the outside world. She took off her coat and hung it neatly in the hallway. Then she went straight into the kitchen and took her pork chop out of the fridge. She put it on a plate on the draining board to come up to room temperature. That would give her about thirty minutes. Perfect timing!

She switched on the oven and set out her vegetables on the kitchen table. She’d prepare those in a few minutes. But now, first things first. She went upstairs to her bedroom.

Drawing the curtains closed, Olwen switched on the bedside lamp and undressed. She folded her school clothes neatly and put her blouse and her knickers in the dirty linen basket. She lay down on her large double bed and leaned over to open the drawer of her bedside cupboard.

Her fingers closed around her favourite vibrator and she withdrew it and switched it on. A low buzz filled the room and the rubber tip began to revolve slowly. Olwen applied the head to her right nipple, which immediately reacted, becoming hard and very sensitive. Moving over to her left nipple, she repeated the action, getting the same reaction from that rosy pink bud too. She held her breath and played the vibrator across both tits, loving the sensation and feeling her cunt get warmer.

Lowering her hand, she opened her legs and slid the lovely rubber tip inside herself, shuddering as the head found her clit and began to tease it out from underneath its’ protective hood.

Holding the vibrator with one hand, Olwen tweaked her nipples with the other, pinching them hard until she could bear the pain no more. Then she switched to the other nipple and repeated the delicious torture.

The rubber head was doing its job. Olwen was already very wet indeed. She began to fuck herself with the whole length of the vibrator, making sure that the head touched her clit on every in stroke. She shuddered as she felt the familiar sensations in the pit of her stomach. Her cunt was on fire! She continued to fuck herself, her cunt cream flowing freely, coating her thighs and filling the bedroom with the unmistakable aroma of cunt.

All too soon, she felt her orgasm approaching. She rammed the vibrator all the way in and clenched.

“Oh fuuuuuck!” she muttered as the first wave hit. “Yes! Oh fucking hell! Mmmm!”

Olwen squirted, and, panting like a dog, she continued to fuck herself with her vibrator until the sensation was just too much. She clamped her thighs together, trapping the vibrator inside her and lay on her back, luxuriating in the sensations that raced through her body.

Eventually she came back down. She slipped the vibrator out of herself and gingerly licked the tip. It tasted familiar, warm, thick and slightly bitter. She slid the vibrator into her mouth and cleaned it up.

“Well it’s not as good as actual cock, but in the absence of the real thing, it will have to do,” Olwen told herself as she dressed, ready to go downstairs and cook her supper. She hoped that her holiday in Greece would provide some of the ‘real thing’. It had been over a month since Olwen was last fucked, and that, she told herself as she peeled the potatoes, was long enough for anyone to go without.

Two weeks later, Olwen stepped out of her hotel on a small Greek island, crossed the road and found herself on a beautiful, quiet beach. She sun bathed, and swam for most of the morning, returning to the hotel for lunch and a few hours rest when the heat got too oppressive. She went back over to the beach in the cool of the late afternoon, and lay in the warm sunshine until it was time for a shower and her evening meal. This became the pattern for her holiday, and she found it extremely relaxing.

She had become daring enough to sunbathe topless on the deserted beach, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her tits and adoring the lovely bronze colour that her tits were achieving. One morning, towards the end of her holidays, she fell asleep on her sun lounger whilst sun bathing with her tits out.

She was awakened by a raucous sound, and she saw two men wrestling and horsing about in the sea. This looked promising! She was aching for cock, so she sat up and began rubbing sun tan lotion on her tits in what she hoped was an inviting way.

“You’re wasting your time,” said a strange voice from her left hand side. Olwen jumped and dropped her bottle of sun tan lotion. She hadn’t noticed a third man, who was lying on his front on a towel and looking at her appreciatively.

“They’re a couple,” the man continued. “I met them at the airport and we shared a taxi up to the hotel. They come to Greece every summer because the laws on homosexuality are much more relaxed than back home in the UK.”

Olwen liked the look of this young man. He seemed confident and wasn’t put off by a forty-odd year old woman flashing her tits at him.

“If they’re together,” she replied, shielding her eyes from the sun, ” what are you doing here with them? Do you do threesomes?”

“God, no,” replied the young man. “I’m totally straight. I’ve just had a bit of good news and I wanted to celebrate. I’ve just got my first job, and I’ll be working hard in about a month. I thought I’d get some rest and relaxation in before I begin my career. I’m a school teacher, you see. I’ve just been appointed to a school back home.”

Olwen smiled.

“Congratulations,” she replied. “We’re colleagues then. I’m a school teacher too.”

She reached for her bag and took out her cigar case. Olwen still preferred her pipe, but these days she only smoked that at home. She had enough stick from her colleagues when she lit up a cigar. The general impression amongst her fellow teachers on the staff was that only lesbians smoked cigars.

Olwen lit up and puffed out her smoke in a long thin stream. She smiled at the young man again.

“Are you staying long?” she asked hopefully.

“Another fortnight,” came the answer. “If we’re to be beach companions, I’d better introduce myself.”

He got to his feet and came over to where Olwen was lying.

“I’m Les,” he said offering his hand to shake.

Olwen put her cigar in her mouth and shook his hand. She inhaled deeply, removed her cigar with her other hand and replied,

“Olwen. I’m very pleased to meet you.”

To her delight, she saw a movement in the young man’s swimming costume, and a very attractive bulge appeared. Les didn’t seem embarrassed or put out by this. He continued to look at Olwen, who decided to take the bull by the horns.

“After all,” she thought to herself, “I’ll never see him again when I leave here. Let’s just see if it’s my smoking that’s making his cock stir.”

She replaced the cigar in her mouth, inhaled and blew the smoke out through her nostrils. The young man grinned.

“You smoke beautifully,” he said, his voice suddenly rather croaky. “I do like to see women smoking cigars. It’s so suggestive.”

“Suggestive of what?” asked Olwen, openly flirting now.

“Well forgive my plain speaking,” replied Les, sitting down on the end of Olwen’s sun lounger, “but when I see a woman with a cigar between her lips, it makes me think of what else she might suck on.”

Olwen grinned and put her foot in the young man’s crotch. Her toes touched his cock and she felt it grow hard.

“I’m in room twenty in the hotel over the road,” she said, her cigar bobbing up and down between her lips as she spoke.

“I can also speak plainly. How would you like to come back to my room right now? You can watch me finish my cigar and then maybe you can suggest something else for me to suck on.”

Les grinned in delight.

“As well as women who smoke, I do go in for women who know what they like,” he replied, getting to his feet. His cock was now tenting in his swimming trunks, making a most delightful sight, Olwen thought. She got to her feet also and picked up her beach bag and her towel.

She linked arms with her new friend and smiled at him.

“Shall we?” she asked mischievously. He adjusted his cock in his swimming trunks unashamedly.

“That’s better,” he declared. “Can’t have the locals knowing what we’re about to get up to, can we?”

“And what’s that?” asked Olwen with a grin.

“We’re going up to your room where you and I are going to fuck one another to a standstill,” replied Les, slipping his hand down the back of Olwen’s bikini bottom and giving her arse a gentle squeeze.

With the room door safely closed, Olwen turned to look at her newly found companion. He grinned at her.

“Hurry up and finish that cigar,” he croaked. “I can’t wait to get it on with you.”

Olwen pushed him in the chest. The back of his knees came up against the end of the bed and he collapsed backwards.

“Get your cock out,” she ordered sternly. “I’m a woman and I can multi task!”

As Les struggled out of his bathing trunks, Olwen knelt by the side of the bed. His cock sprang into view, and Olwen looked at it appreciatively. She drew on her cigar and blew a thin stream of creamy smoke over the throbbing cock. Then she took another drag, held it in and removed her cigar from between her lips. She took his cock in her mouth and deep throated him in one swift action. Les groaned in delight, and Olwen got her throat muscles working on his mushroom head whilst her lips caressed his long, thick shaft.

“I’m going to cum if you keep this up,” he gasped, and Olwen winked at him. She felt his mushroom head swell and bingo! A thick stream of hot cum erupted out of Les’s cock. Olwen savoured the sensation. It had been far too long since she’d had a mouthful of cum. She swallowed just in time. A second, third and then a fourth eruption followed. Olwen didn’t waste a drop.

She released Les’s cock with a soft plop, and resumed her smoking.

“You owe me,” she grinned, looking at his shrivelled cock. “I hope that state of affairs isn’t going to last too long? I need fucking!”

Les winked at her, and pulled her up onto the bed.

“You have beautiful tits,” he murmured, thumbing both her nipples which reacted immediately. “Get that bikini bottom off and let me see if your cunt is equally attractive. You’ve tasted me. It’s only fair that I taste you. It’ll give you a chance to finish your cigar and me a chance to get hard for you.”

Olwen discarded her flimsy bikini bottom and lay back in anticipation. Les licked all along her cunt slit and she shivered. Only actually being fucked was better than having her cunt eaten properly, in her opinion. She could feel his breath on her puffy cunt lips and then his tongue split them open and she was in heaven.

He quickly located her clit and lashed it back and forth with his tongue. Olwen moaned with pleasure, and thrust her groin upwards to meet his face. She was dripping wet already. She took a long drag on her cigar and exhaled through her nostrils. Les must have been looking up at her, because she heard him gasp in pleasure at her smoking. He sucked her clit into his mouth and nibbled gently at it. Olwen exploded into her first orgasm, and he relished the taste of her cunt cream.

She felt him moving up her body and she put her cigar into the ashtray on the little table at the side of the bed. He grinned at her and bent down for a kiss, his face red from his efforts and shiny with her cum. They kissed.

She loved the taste of herself on his mouth, he loved the taste of her cigar on her breath. Still lip locked, the two became one as his cock eased into her cunt with a wet squelching sound. Olwen shuddered as she felt herself filled and stretched. Then Les began to fuck her.

He certainly was no ‘Wham, Bam, Thank you, Ma’am’ operator. He made sure that she was enjoying this as much as he was, varying the speed and depth of his penetration. At some point they both had their index fingers up each other’s arse holes. It was a new sensation for Olwen, and she loved it. When Les grunted she realised he was about to cum.

“Are you on the pill?” he asked breathlessly, slowing his fucking to hear her answer.

“No,” replied Olwen, “but please don’t stop. It’s worth the risk. Don’t pull out now, I beg you!”

Les grinned and resumed his rhythmic thrusting, stimulating Olwen’s clit and bringing her to heights she had only ever dreamed of reaching. She wailed as yet another orgasm washed over and through her, and her cunt cream squirted out of her like lava being blown out of an erupting volcano.

When Les was satisfied that this magnificent woman had cum, he pulled out and shot his bolt all over her stomach and her tits. Then he collapsed in breathless ecstasy on top of her.

“Fucking hell!” they both exclaimed at the same time, and together they burst into laughter and kissed one another deeply.

Olwen still had two days left of her holiday. She spent them both in Les’s company, and the couple fucked themselves to a standstill at every opportunity. Les even fucked her on the beach, doggy style whilst she smoked a cigar. Everytime he made sure that she had her orgasm before he came, and he made certain to pull out of her and shoot his load on her arse, on her tits, over her face, in her hair, anywhere but up her cunt. He seemed paranoid about getting her pregnant.

Les accompanied her to the airport when it was time for her to leave. He fingered her in the back of the taxi and she had a series of shuddering orgasms to remind her of a brilliant holiday.

He kissed her warmly when they arrived at the airport.

“No regrets, no recriminations,” he whispered, smiling at her. “You’re a remarkable lady, Olwen. I’m so glad we met. Good luck next term.”

“The same to you,” whispered Olwen with tears in her eyes. It was only when she was boarding the plane that she realised she didn’t know his full name, she had no address or telephone number for him.

“Ah well,” she thought, philosophically, “it was good whilst it lasted.”

Arriving back home, there was the usual pile of letters on the mat behind the front door. In the kitchen, Olwen put the kettle on and went back to pick up her mail. She quickly sorted it into two piles. Those she intended to open and read, and the junk mail that was going straight into the bin. She unfolded a scrap of paper and skimmed the words on it.

“Olwen,” she read, “this is the only piece of paper I had in the car. I wanted you to know the news as soon as you returned. Bev. Tidcombe had a heart attack and died the day you left for Greece. Ring me as soon as you get this. Hope you had a good holiday. Sally Wilson.”

Olwen made herself a cup of tea and sat down to think. Bev had not been her favourite colleague. It was she who started the rumour about lesbians being cigar smokers. Olwen was often the butt of Bev’s jokes. But she was sorry that the young woman was dead. A heart attack, Sally had reported. Olwen was not surprised. Bev must have weighed the best part of twenty stone, and she smoked like a chimney and ate the most unhealthy diet.

Olwen lit her pipe, thinking how ironic it was that Bev, who had chided her for being a cigar smoker, but who probably smoked upwards of fifty cigarettes a day, would never again light another ciggy. She puffed her favourite aromatic tobacco with great enjoyment and telephoned her head teacher. What she was told was an incredible coincidence, and when she put the phone down, she was already making plans. “Who would have thought it?” she asked herself as she puffed thoughtfully on her pipe.

Sally had told her that the school governors had arranged an emergency meeting as soon as they heard of Bev’s demise. It was too late to advertise the position, so the chair of governors, a very dynamic woman, rang the local University and obtained a list of graduates who had recently qualified as teachers.

She then phoned each of them, and in her own very authoritative way drew up a short list based on the telephone conversations she had with each of them. Interviews were arranged and held and the unanimous decision was taken to appoint… Mr. Leslie Jenkins. The same Les that Olwen had been fucking in Greece a day earlier!

And when Sally mentioned that the successful candidate was a local man, and his father had been a head teacher in the area during the War, Olwen had fond memories of being bent over Sidney’s desk and puffing on his pipe whilst he fucked her. Who would have thought it? Olwen had been fucked by a father and son combination!

The new term began, and Mr. Jenkins was introduced to the staff on their first day back at school. As it was designated a training day, no pupils were present. Les seemed to fit in immediately. If he was shocked at seeing Olwen again so soon, he hid it very well. Sally explained to him that as a newly qualified teacher, he would need a mentor, and as the children he would be teaching this year would be moving up to Miss Simpson’s class next year, it seemed sensible that Olwen be his mentor. They smiled at one another politely, and Olwen suggested that when the staff went back to their classrooms to prepare for tomorrow, Les should accompany her and they would work out a mutually convenient timetable. Sally nodded her agreement.

It worked out perfectly. During school hours Olwen and Les behaved very professionally. They met regularly and exchanged ideas and their children got on very well. During the weekends they met, but always at Olwen’s house, which backed onto a field, giving Les the perfect opportunity to arrive without being seen. They were always exceedingly discrete.

They resumed their fucking almost straight away. Les maintained his refusal to cum in Olwen, and offered to wear a condom. This was rejected out of hand and so he would fuck her until she had at least three orgasms before pulling out and cumming on various parts of her body. As Olwen acknowledged, it wasn’t perfect, but it made the best of a difficult situation.

When Les discovered that Olwen smoked a pipe, it gave him even more of a hard-on than when she smoked cigars. They enjoyed lots of fucking in the doggy position, with Olwen puffing on her pipe and Les fucking her from behind and playing with her tits at the same time. Olwen never let on that Les’s father used to like to fuck her in the same position!

Time went on, and soon Les had been teaching at the school for eight years. He and Olwen continued to fuck regularly, but they decided not to be exclusive. This was mainly to allow Les to find girlfriends, to allay suspicions that he was gay.

One weekend, he and Olwen were recovering from a particularly vigorous fuck. She was sitting on the sofa in her living room, and Les was lying with his head on her chest. Olwen was smoking her pipe and Les was fingering her and suckling one of her tits.

“I’ve asked Judith to marry me,” Les said out of the blue. “If she accepts, I don’t want to cheat on her. We’ll have to call it a day. I’ll be sorry because I love fucking you, but I’m hoping you’ll understand?”

It was a bit of a shock to Olwen, but she didn’t want to seem bitter.

“Of course I understand,” she replied, “I would never want to break up a marriage. But until she says ‘yes’ can we carry on fucking?”

Les married Judith and all the staff were invited to the wedding. In no time at all, Judith fell pregnant, and was delivered in due course of a baby boy. He was called David, and he was born the day after Olwen’s forty third birthday. When the time came for him to start school, he began at the school where Olwen and his father taught.

When the news came that the school was going to be closed due to structural weakness, Sally decided it was time to retire. She didn’t want to have to travel to the new school site, which was about eight miles away. Both Olwen and Les applied for her old job in the new school.

When Les was appointed headmaster, Olwen was offered the post of deputy head teacher, which she gladly accepted. They continued to be friends, and Olwen was given a lift to school every day in Les’s car. David travelled with them to school, and when he left to go to secondary school, he continued to have a lift with his father and ‘Aunty Olwen’ as he had always called her.

The years went by rapidly, and retirement began to loom for Olwen too. The years had treated her well. She was still a very handsome woman, capable of turning heads even when she was in her sixties. She saw no reason to stop doing what she enjoyed, although lovers were a distant memory these days. Still, she consoled herself with her memories and a collection of dildos and vibrators of varying size and shape.

Part Three: Olwen and David (November1990)

Olwen had been retired for four months. Christmas was rapidly approaching, and she was bored. Each new day seemed no different from the previous one. She woke up alone, unfortunately, and lay in bed contemplating the day ahead. No longer the thrill of expecting to be bent over the head teacher’s desk and fucked. No longer smoking on her hands and knees whilst being fucked from behind and having her nipples pleasured. All that was in the past, and it was so frustrating. Especially given that when she got one of her dildos out, Olwen’s cunt still reacted to being filled and stretched. She needed a lover, and she needed him now!

Olwen got out of bed, had a quick shower and ate her breakfast. The radio was on in the kitchen, tuned to a local radio station. During an inane chat show, the presenter announced that the station was running a competition to give away VIP tickets to the upcoming 5th of November fireworks event, which was held every year in the town, to commemorate Guy Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot, which had occurred nearly four hundred years ago, in 1605. Olwen decided that she wouldn’t enter the competition, but she would go to the event, to see what she might be able to pick up.

To that end, she hurriedly finished her breakfast, put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and prepared to go out shopping to get herself something suitable to wear to seduce some, as yet, unsuspecting person. Olwen was on the case, and she was determined to get herself fucked come hell or high water!

Wandering around town a few hours later, Olwen decided to have a cup of coffee before catching the bus home. It was a glorious Autumn day, clear, crisp and sunny and the cafe owner had taken full advantage of the unseasonal weather to set up tables on the pavement outside her cafe.

Olwen sat down, and was immediately aware of someone standing at her side. She looked up.

“Good morning, Miss Simpson. How lovely to see you. Are you enjoying your retirement?”

It was the proprietor of the cafe, and Olwen had taught both her children at some point in her career. She smiled at the lady.

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Ellis,” she replied. “Yes, I am, thank you.”

With her order placed, Olwen settled down to await her Americano coffee with some cold milk. She lit a celebratory cigar, and glanced down at the bag containing her Bonfire night outfit, a little black dress which would show off her tits perfectly and which was long enough to protect her modesty, but short enough to interest anyone who was out on the pull. She smiled to herself as she thought of the possibilities ahead.

“Still smoking your cigars then, Miss Simpson?” said Mrs. Ellis, putting Olwen’s coffee down in front of her. “Our Rebecca always used to come home from school and talk about you and your cigars. You were her favourite teacher. I’m sure she took up smoking because of you. Both she and her partner smoke cigars these days.”

How is Rebecca?” asked Olwen, puffing on her own cigar.

“Oh she’s doing really well, thank you,” replied Mrs. Ellis. “She married a few years ago, and Anna is pregnant at the moment. I’m going to be a grandmother!”

“Well congratulations,” smiled Olwen, adding, “Remember me to Rebecca when you next see her.”

“I will do,” replied Mrs Ellis, hurrying away to another table to take orders. What a good idea putting the tables out today had been. The cafe was really busy.

Olwen was aware that people were queuing to sit outside in the sunshine. She’d finished her coffee, and she stubbed out the butt of her cigar in the ashtray. Standing up, she made her way into the cafe, to pay her bill.

A red-faced, harrassed Mrs Ellis was on her way out with a tray full of coffees.

“Are you off, Miss Simpson?” she smiled.

“As soon as I’ve paid my bill,” replied Olwen.

“No need,” smiled Mrs. Ellis. “It’s on the house. It was lovely to see you again. Call in any time you’re in town.”

“I will,” promised Olwen. “Thank you very much indeed.”

Olwen made her way to the bus station. Town was indeed extremely busy. The unseasonal sunshine seemed to have brought everybody out. Olwen avoided a man being dragged along by a very yappy dog, and in doing so, stepped off the pavement.

A car horn sounded behind her and she jumped, dropping her shopping. She turned round angrily to see who had frightened her. A car had stalled a few feet away, and the driver shook his head and lifted his hand in apology.

Then he broke into a huge grin and got out of the car, oblivious to the angry hoots of drivers in cars behind him.

“Aunty Olwen?” he said incredulously. “It is you, isn’t it? How are you this long time. It’s David. David, Leslie’s son!”

Olwen picked up her shopping and smiled at the young man.

“David,” she said, “what a lovely surprise. It’s great to see you, despite the shock you just gave me! I think you’d better move your car. You’re causing a hell of a traffic jam!”

“Jump in,” David said, taking her shopping bag from her. “I’m on my way home. I’ll give you a lift. We can catch up on the way.”

Olwen got into the passenger seat and David put her shopping in the boot. He waved and smiled an apology at the driver behind him, and got into his car. He drove off slowly, aware of the crowds around him, and of people stepping into the road unexpectedly. Neither he nor Olwen spoke until he’d navigated his way out of town and was on the road to Olwen’s house.

He glanced at her and smiled.

“Well this takes me back,” he said. “I’d be on my way to school in Dad’s car, we’d pick you up and you’d sit next to me in the back seat. I was always aware of your musky perfume. It wasn’t for ages that I discovered that it was the cigars that you used to smoke that made you smell so nice!”

Olwen looked at him with an amazed grin.

“Oh, I still smoke cigars,” she admitted. “It’s one of the few vices still open to me!”

Her mind was working furiously. David’s grandfather and father had both fucked her at some point in all of their lives. Now fate had brought David back into her life. Could she have him as well? If the opportunity arose, she’d certainly seize it with both hands! He was a good looking, fit young man, and if he possessed the same family traits as his father and grandfather, he’d appreciate a woman who loved having sex.

One who was already looking forward to discovering if that twitching bulge in his trousers was as good in bed as that of his elder family relations. Olwen smiled to herself as she felt her clit begin to tingle at the thought of seducing David.

When they arrived at Olwen’s house, David switched off the engine and smiled at Olwen.

“I’ll get your shopping out of the boot,” he said, kindly.

“Will you come in for a cup of coffee?” Olwen asked hopefully. “Goodness knows when I’ll see you again, and we have a lot to catch up on.”

Olwen didn’t really need more caffeine, but she reasoned that if it lead eventually to some cock, it was worth it. So she was delighted when David replied that he had no plans for the rest of the day, and that a cup of coffee and a chat sounded perfect.

(As it happened, he had a raging hard-on, having been so close to Olwen in the car once again, but that’s getting ahead of ourselves chronologically in this story.)

Olwen opened the front door, and David followed her inside, carrying her shopping bags.

“You can leave those at the foot of the stairs,” Olwen said, “I’ll take them up later. Come on in and make yourself at home. I won’t be a minute putting the coffee on.”

She lead him into the middle room of the house, and as he sat down on the sofa, she went into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil. She spooned some coffee into the cafetiere, and set out two mugs.

“Do you take milk and sugar?” she called and received the answer, “Only milk, please. I’m sweet enough!”

“Yes, but are you hard enough?” Olwen thought to herself. The mere thought of possibly getting herself fucked meant that her nipples were achingly hard and her clit was tingling in that ‘hurry up and get a cock in you, so that I can be stimulated’ way.

The kettle boiled and Olwen put some boiling water in each mug and then emptied them onto the coffee grounds in the cafetiere. She put the top on and re-filled each mug with boiling water to keep them warm. Last of all, she set the timer on the stove for four minutes, checked her make-up quickly in the kitchen mirror and returned to the middle room with what she hoped was an enticing smile on her face.

“Won’t be long,” she smiled as she entered the room. David was standing by the fireplace, holding her favourite lady church warden pipe in his hands. His face was flushed. He looked up as Olwen came back in.

“Really?” he said, his voice breaking with excitement. “You smoke a pipe as well?”

“If I answer that, I’ll have to keep you here for ever, in case you tell the world my dreadful secret,” she replied, plucking the dainty pipe out of his hands and slipping the delicate, thin stem between her lips.

“Yes, I smoke a pipe. I started when I was in my twenties. My parents never knew. They wouldn’t have approved. And in fact, only a very small group of good and trusted friends know about it. Even in today’s more relaxed society, pipe smoking women are considered strange!”

“Well, I know now,” grinned David. “That means I’m either a good and trusted friend, or I’m the victim of a kidnapping and I’ll be forced to stay here with you. Which one is it?”

“Oh, you’re a friend, of course,” replied Olwen, “and I hope that I won’t have to kidnap you to ensure you visit me more often, now that we’ve re-established contact.”

“Well I live about three minutes by car up the road,” David replied. “Now that I know where you live, you’ll be sick and tired of me knocking your door before long.”

“My front door will always be open to you, David,” smiled Olwen suggestively as the timer in the kitchen began to ring, signalling that the coffee was ready. She put her pipe down on the mantlepiece and went back to the kitchen.

When Olwen returned, David had resumed his seat on the sofa. He had picked up her pipe again and was staring at the stem, which bore traces of Olwen’s lipstick. As she sat down next to him, carefully balancing both mugs on a tray, David looked at her hopefully.

“I usually have a pipe at this time with my coffee,” Olwen lied. “Would you like to watch me smoking.”

“Oh, god, yes please,” whispered David fervently.

Olwen reached for her tobacco pouch and quickly stuffed the dainty bowl full of her favourite aromatic tobacco. There was a box of extra long matches on the hearth, and David handed them to her as she slipped the stem of her pipe between her lips and clenched.

She struck a match and carefully applied it to her tobacco. Sucking gently, she made sure it was well and evenly lit. She tamped down the burning tobacco gently and puffed away, exhaling clouds of aromatic smoke from her mouth.

“Don’t let your coffee go cold,” she smiled, and David bent down and picked up his mug from the tray.

“That is so fucking hot,” he murmured, and Olwen hoped that he was referring to her, not his coffee.

“So you seem to have a thing about women who smoke?” she asked gently.

“Only cigars and pipes,” he replied honestly. “I don’t like the smell of cigarettes and women who smoke them don’t affect me in the same way.”

To Olwen’s delight, David looked down at his groin. She did the same, and saw a very satisfying bulge had developed in that area. She decided it was time to get the ball rolling.

“So does your girlfriend indulge your little fantasy?” she asked mischievously.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” David replied miserably. “I find girls my age all seem to be obsessed with becoming famous, or wanting another tattoo or something equally frivolous. I prefer mature women, but they all seem to be married or else they don’t have the same interests as me.”

He was blushing deeply as he finished this long speech, and he looked apologetically at Olwen.

“You must think I’m mad,” he continued. “But I feel that I can talk to you. You always were so interested in me when we used to travel in the car together. And now here I am, spilling my guts out to you! I’m sorry.”

He shuffled nervously on the sofa, and tried not to wince. Olwen suspected that the bulge in his trousers was becoming tight and uncomfortable. That was good news! She’d hooked him alright, she thought. Now all she had to do was to reel him in gently.

She blew a stream of creamy smoke into the air and smiled at him.

“I called it a fantasy earlier,” she said slowly, “but let’s not kid ourselves. It’s more of a fetish really, isn’t it?”

She looked at David, whose face now seemed to be permanently pink. He gulped and opened his mouth. Olwen held up her hand. She wasn’t finished yet and she didn’t want him interrupting and breaking her flow.

“You’re not alone in having fetishes,” she smiled. “I have a few myself. And they don’t include me becoming famous,” she continued. “I don’t have any tattoos, and I wouldn’t consider myself frivolous. Also, I’m not married!” she concluded with a very pointed smile.

David looked at her in disbelief.

“Do you have a, what should I call it? A special gentleman friend?”

Olwen shook her head and winked at him.

“Not currently. That position is vacant,” she replied. “But the person who wanted to fill the vacancy would have to satisfy several conditions.”

“Which are?” croaked David.

“He’d have to accept that I enjoy smoking my pipe and that I also smoke cigars,” Olwen replied quietly.

David gulped then broke out into a nervous giggle.

“I accept,” he said boldly, “on one condition.”

“Which is?” asked Olwen. She was convinced that she’d got David exactly where she wanted him now. All that was required was some subtle negotiating.

David looked at her challengingly.

“You said earlier that you don’t have any tattoos. Prove it.”

Olwen considered his request for about eight nano seconds.

“You want to see me naked?” she asked with a wicked grin.

“You’ve been checking my cock out for the last couple of minutes,” replied David, taking her unresisting hand and placing it on the bulge in his trousers.

“As you can see, I’m quite excited about the thought of what might happen in a couple of minutes. I just thought that you might prefer to be fucked without your clothes on.”