Chesterbury Tales Pt 14
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Chesterbury Tales Pt. 07 free porn video
It is winter 1966. When five couples find themselves stranded at a remote high-class inn by extreme weather conditions, they amuse each other by relating stories of an erotic nature, as well as taking part in all kinds of private and group sexual activities.
After a torrid affair with their leading actor, Emma, the Theatre Company Manager is stranded with an actor new to the company and is soon in his bed, after the host has related the tale of a wild bisexual birthday party. Emma’s tale the next morning, involves her rise in the Company by bending to the sexual whims of those with influence.
Chapter Seven – Anne & George’s fantasies
And still it snowed! When everything had been cleared away after lunch on the second day of their incarceration in the Travellers Rest Inn, the hostess, Julie, invited the men to change into the clothes they would find in their bedrooms and to assemble in the bar. Meantime, the ladies were invited to move into the lounge, where they would find other costumes, which they were asked to change into.
Mary dispensed cups of coffee to the men when they returned, whilst Anne, the chief waitress at the inn, and Julie provided refreshments for the women. Anne was in her standard waitress outfit, black blouse and skirt with the top corners of the bib of her white apron pinned to the blouse with small brass safety pins.
Since she had lost her husband in the war, Anne had not re-married. She had found out during her first marriage that she enjoyed sex to be varied, being too curious about the male body to be tied to one man. She wasn’t obsessed by sex but had a healthy appetite for it when it presented itself. Working at the Travellers’ Rest provided her with whatever opportunities she wanted when she felt like it.
Of average height, Anne’s body was on the plump side and often sought after by those who liked some flesh to press. Her legs were shortish and well padded.
After the coffees were distributed, Julie took Anne to one side. ‘Anne, I wonder if can you spare a moment? The men need a little help in there. Would you mind helping out?’
‘OK!’ Anne nodded.
Julie took Anne through into the bar where she was stopped in her tracks at the sight of six men in dog collars, dressed in black suits, sipping coffee. They wore identical, white half-masks and black hats, each carrying a rolled umbrella. Leaving Anne looking rather aghast, Julie took George by the arm – she recognised him by the colour of his shoes – and beckoned him to follow her into the lounge.
Anne remained standing still as the chatter stopped, the men turning to look at her. She had walked straight into the scene of one of her fantasies! A group of anonymous vicars!
No one spoke. One of the men stepped towards her, pointing to a low coffee table, gesturing that he wanted her to step up on to it. Slipping off her shoes, Anne nervously got onto the low table with a feeling of some apprehension. The man hooked the tip his brolly under the hem of her skirt, pushing it up high to reveal her white frilly knickers, which were too small to hide the bushes of dark hair emerging from either side of them.
With her heart beating fast, Anne’s mouth had turned dry. The five ‘vicars’ put down their coffee cups and gathered round the front of the table to stare at her. Two of them came either side of her, hooked a fore-finger into the top of her knickers, slowly easing them down to her ankles, revealing her pubic hair in all its glory. Anne was excited, if a bit scared, wondering what they were going to do to her.
The man gestured to Anne that he wanted her to step out of the knickers. No one moved as she lifted first one foot, then the other, out of the white frilly pants. She looked at them all staring at the mass of dark luxuriant curls covering her navel. She was asked to part her legs to display the thick covering of glossy hair on her genitals, spreading down her inner thighs, through to the cleft between the cheeks of her bottom.
For some curious reason Anne blushed deeply when one of the men who had removed the knickers leaned towards her, to peer closely into the plump swelling of her vulva.
‘Yes, gentlemen. There you are.’ The first man spoke softly. ‘You see an example of the hirsute female in her natural state. A fine example. Turn round please,’ he asked Anne politely, ‘and I’d be most grateful if you’d remove your skirt.’
She did as she was told, the skirt dropping to the floor behind her, exposing the rounded cheeks of her firm bottom, drooping seductively over the tops of her thighs.
‘Would you mind bending forward, please.’ he asked, flicking the skirt to one side with his umbrella. He then pointed with his brolly. ‘There you will notice, gentlemen, the way in which the hair grows thickly between the tops of the legs. There is a large tuft in the valley of the anus, with hair spreading well down the inner thighs, and a lush covering around the orifice itself.
‘This is a really wonderful example of the hirsute female. It is rare to find one these days in which none of the hair has been trimmed or, indeed, removed entirely. In its natural state, the hair also grows thickly in the armpits and, in some cases, around the nipples. To some gentlemen, this is a very erotic condition.
‘We shall see shortly whether or not this specimen has more body hair, or whether she has committed an act of folly by removing it? But before doing so, we must examine what lies hidden in this undergrowth.’
He groped into her groin, parting the hair on her vulva to reveal the brown, crinkled lips. With his thumb and forefinger, the man held open the lips to show the coral-pink flesh, glistening with her honey.
‘Ah! There we are! The entrance to the lady’s soft inner flesh and the reproductive system. And there you can see the juices beginning to exude from the orifice. That means that the lady’s vagina is now overflowing with her lubrication, ready for penetration by the male penis.
The men muttered and murmured amongst themselves, eventually turning and nodding their approval.
‘Would you please stand up and remove your blouse?’ Anne was asked with studied politeness.
The man had allowed the hem of her dress to fall back into place, as Anne stood upright, turned, still wearing the pinafore, which hid the hairy navel. She unfastened the brass safety-pins to remove it. Her blouse followed, the garments falling to her feet.
Her full breasts, set high on her chest, were topped with stiff, swollen, dark-brown nipples. Her belly was well rounded, with the curly hair peaking at her navel. There was no hair sprouting from her nipples, but evidence of hair-tufts could be seen sprouting from her armpits.
‘Please raise your arms above your head.’
There was a gasp from the men, as the full glory of her fleecy armpits was revealed to them.
‘Gentlemen, you are now allowed to stroke the specimen wherever you wish, run your fingers through her hairy patches. Admire and enjoy the feel of it. But respect the lady at all times.’
Anne was immediately surrounded by the five men who explored her firm, silken flesh with roving hands as though she were a marble statue. Not one of the men laid aside his brolly. Her buttocks, hips, calves, breasts and arms were all caressed and patted. The men nodded and murmured their appreciation to each other.
To Anne, it was very arousing, her heart palpitating and her vagina leaking freely. Then hands began probing her inner thighs, stroking the hair, lightly fingering the pouting lips barely visible through the mass of curls.
‘Tut, tut!’ muttered one of the men as he examined his finger, now stained with her juices. He held it out for the others to take a close look. They peered at it intently, before exchanging looks with each other.
Then another of the men tentatively pushed his second finger into the crack. After prodding it around the hidden folds, he t
ook it away and looked at it in disbelief. He sniffed it before holding it out for the others to inspect.
There was shaking of heads and much tutting. Then all five groping hands felt carefully between her thighs. Into the lips of her vulva, the crack of her bottom, her clitoris, flicking, rubbing and caressing the oily skin, drawing out the honey. They were all muttering to each other words of mock surprise and disbelief. Anne, with a dry mouth, was lit up with excitement and salaciousness.
Her thighs trembled and her buttocks shook as the agitation built up within her groin, deep inside her belly. Her vulva was now seeping copiously, soaking into the hair, to the great excitement of the gentlemen. An orgasm overtook her with a wave of joy, her knees trembling uncontrollably, her whole body shaking with the intensity of it whilst she leaned heavily on two of the men, others holding on to her firmly.
‘Come down, please,’ the first man asked when her convulsions had subsided, and helped her to step off the table. ‘Lie on your back on the front of the table, with your buttocks on the edge please.’
Anne did as she was told. ‘Open your legs wide, please, and lift them as far to your shoulders as you can.’ Anne was only too happy to comply. ‘Now gentlemen, you have witnessed the female body at work, preparing itself for it’s main purpose. The act of fornication. The function nature designed it for. If we ask the lady to rub her fingers repeatedly over the vulva and the clitoris, we will see the result.’
Anne began to gently masturbate, her middle fingers exploring the outer lips, dipping into her vagina, smearing the white honey over her little white button, an act, which always aroused her to a peak of excitement. As her fingers parted the hair round her entrance, the wetness between her thighs had increased, as yet more juices could be seen oozing and dribbling from her aroused vagina, which was now throbbing and dilating, revealing the inner tunnel in all it’s secret wonder.
‘There you are gentlemen. It appears that this specimen is more than ready to be penetrated by the male penis. The vagina is already eager to be entered. Its petals are opening and closing with expectation of penetration. A rhythmical thrusting in and out of the vagina by the penis will stimulate the lady even more.
Having strange men watch her masturbate gave Anne extra stimulation. She closed her eyes as her hips and loins shuddered and rolled with delight and excitement as her body responded to the expert touch she had perfected over the years of self-enjoyment.
‘The pumping action of the penis will also activate the little hood you see covering the clitoris,’ he explained, pointing to the part in question, ‘by dragging it up and down over the sensitive button, so stimulating it. This will, eventually, result in the lady having rapid contractions and convulsions.
‘You have already seen how the lady behaves when that occurs. She collapses. That is the orgasm. A most exciting moment for the lady and one in which her inner muscles will draw the sperm into her tubes, to search for the egg. Let’s see if we can coax another from her. Perhaps one of you would oblige her.’
And, almost immediately, Anne felt a stiff blunt weapon prodding at her vagina. She took a deep breath as she trembled again in a small, silent orgasm, brought on by the probing finger with the added anticipation of being sexually violated. The other men looked on with fascination, unfastening and dropping their trousers, pulling out their bursting erections.
‘Please restrain yourselves, gentlemen, by limiting yourselves to twenty deep thrusts each, so that you can all sample the delights of this delicious example of feminine charm. The main purpose is to stimulate the lady by filling her impatient vagina with a variety of stiff penises and satisfying it’s ache by giving her as much pleasure as possible in the encounter.’
One by one the men serviced Anne with a twenty firm plunges into her slippery, warm flesh before withdrawing to make way for the next one. Jake was the fourth man, filling her with his thick penis, and yet another wave of agitation built up inside her as the large thrusting object massaged her inner folds.
Anne thought she would explode with frustration – tighter and tighter – it was sweet agony. Then, the welcome, shuddering orgasmic release ripped through her body, the spasms accompanied by loud cries of joyful exhilaration. The last man slid into her for his twenty thrusts whilst Anne continued to gasp and moan, enjoying her climax to the last sigh.
Whilst all this was going on, George had gone through the door of the lounge. As it closed behind him, he was surprised to see five nuns in the room, each wearing a white porcelain-like mask. They were chatting away to each other animatedly before one of them raised a hand to silence them. They saw her looking at him and all turned their faces to study the newcomer.
Emma felt aroused by the fact that she was anonymous. There was nothing to identify any of them to George.
George was the novelist Susan’s husband. At 37, he was a highly sexed man and was capable of ejaculating at least three times a day. Being a handsome man, he was attractive to women. He owned his own highly successful business of an electrical contractor started by his father straight after the war. He was, of course, a multi-millionaire.
He frequently took his young secretary, and another of the office girls together in his office during the lunch hour, and Susan at night. Even so, he sometimes had to masturbate to keep his sexual needs fully satisfied. In his younger days would masturbate frequently. He was in love with his penis.
And here he was faced by a party of nuns!
‘Ah! This will be our specimen, sisters.’ One of the women crossed to him. ‘Please remove your clothes from the waist down, Father, and stand on that table.’
He was helped by two nuns undoing the waistband and flies of his trousers. They expertly slipped off his shoes and socks before removing his trousers. The bulge in his Y-front pants drew the attention of the nuns.
The leader pointed to it. ‘Within that cotton support, sisters, rests the means by which women are impregnated. It appears to be in a relaxed state at the moment, but we shall try to arouse it to a state of readiness.’
The underpants were quickly taken down leaving George naked from the waist down, his semi-soft penis slumped over the tight testicles.
‘I am the Mother Superior,’ the first nun told him. ‘I would like you to do as I ask. Up onto the ottoman, please,’ she instructed brusquely.
George stepped up onto the large, square ottoman in his bare feet, still dressed in his shirt and tie, jacket and bowler hat. The nuns grouped round the front of him as the Mother stood to one side of him. She placed a pencil beneath his flaccid penis and lifted it up for them to examine.
‘I expect that most of you will be unfamiliar with this interesting part of the male anatomy. That, sisters, is the cause of much trouble in the outside world. It is what many women of the world yearn for but which we, in our order, have promised to deny ourselves. The penis, here in its state of repose. For some men, that state is fairly rare, but today we will witness how it becomes aroused to a standing position, ready to enter the woman’s vagina.’
Some of the nuns craned their heads forward to take a closer look at the innocent looking tube of flesh.
‘The hair of this specimen is unusual in that it lacks the usual curls. The majority of male pubic hair is very similar in texture to our own. Some is coarser than others, of course, which is the same as with women. But here we see wavy hair devoid of curls. That is unusual. However, it does not affect the performance of the penis itself. Perhaps you would care to take its measurements, sister, in its relaxed state.’
One of the nuns stepped forward with a dressmaker’
s measuring tape and placed it at the base of his stem.
‘Four-and-a-half inches long,’ she said, before wrapping it round the shaft, ‘and four inches in circumference.’
‘Good! Now we shall see if we can arouse it and persuade it to stiffen and enlarge.’ And the first nun began to fondle the specimen. ‘You may fondle and embrace his testicles’ she told the others, ‘and stroke his thighs and bottom. This movement helps to arouse the base instincts in man.’
Four of the nuns joined in the exploitation of George’s flesh. Normally, George would have erected in no time at all, but the unusual nature of the encounter and the strangeness of the company deterred his usual speedy inclinations. But the stroking of the flesh and the fondling of his genitals soon had the desired effect.
‘There you are, sisters,’ she purred, ‘you can see the way in which the male organ is beginning to inflate. Feel it’s spongy texture beginning to harden. Watch carefully as it sways and hoists itself slowly from its resting place as the inflow of blood fills its spongy interior. Soon it will be stiff and proud.’
The nuns were all staring at the growing shaft until it finally stood stiff and upright against George’s stomach, his shirt tails draped over each side of it.
‘Would you care to measure it again, sister?’
The tape measure was put to use once more.
‘Five and seven-eighths inches long – call it six inches – and five and a three-quarters inches in circumference at its widest part.’
The Mother explained. ‘The shape and size of the male penis does vary, which makes it an object of constant unquenchable interest to many females. However, it rarely exceeds six inches in a European man, although in my youth I saw, and indeed sampled within me, larger specimens. This particular example is what we refer to as the torpedo because of its shape. We do have here, though, an unusually slack foreskin. Would one of you care to examine it?’
Emma remembered Jake’s penis being much larger than this one. Bigger than the average. But then he was a black man! She reached out quickly. With the thumb and forefinger of both hands, she slowly drew the foreskin over the head and down the full length of the shaft. The other nuns gasped as the head emerged.
‘In the interest of personal knowledge and physical experience, could I be allowed to try to put it inside me to see if it fits? I think I should experience the problem faced by other women.’
It was the tall dark nun who was itching to get it inside her.
‘Certainly, sister. I think we should each have the chance to test it out.’ She turned to George. ‘Step down please and sit on the edge of the ottoman, leaning back as far as you can.’
George did as he was asked, resting on the palms of his hands behind him, his stiffness projecting proudly, its head glistening with a pearl of moisture. The Mother pulled up the shirttails as far as she could.
‘Notice the bead of moisture which has formed at the head of the shaft. This helps the lubrication of the foreskin as it slides over the head and back again during copulation, stimulating the trigger point of the penis until the ejaculating muscle is activated and sperm is ejected out of the shaft. It will be necessary for me to pull the stiff shaft away from the belly, otherwise penetration may be difficult. In the more usual man-on-top position, this problem doesn’t arise.’
The dark-haired nun lifted her black habit, stood astride George’s legs, with her back to him, lowering her groin onto the head of his stiff penis, which the first nun presented to the gap between her vaginal lips.
‘Can you all see,’ she asked as the other nuns bent over to get a good view. ‘You’ll notice from the nun’s vaginal lips that her lubrication is already oozing from her. This is to allow the easy passage of the male organ into her opening. It is a natural function.
This nun has a good, copious supply and you can see it beginning to trickle down her inner thighs. No doubt you are all experiencing similar natural stimuli, and are yourselves oozing in readiness for your own personal test.’ There was a general nod all round between the nuns together with some licking of dry lips.
Lizbeth
- 17.12.2021
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