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As classic co cider and hot sunshine is not up there with strawberries and cream, tea and sympathy, wine and roses
I should have chosen one thing or the other But I had the afternoon off, and arden withyour attention off course until you suddenly realise that it’s after three and you are decidedly squiffy Even though Evan and I had chosen a table beneath achestnut tree, the shade had slipped off without excusing itself, leaving htheaded, a little bit
And I e to Evan After all, in a place like Great Swingeing, single ible, sexy, funny, clever single le-eyebrow-raising thing Most of the ht I’ve Got a Brand New Combine Harvester was a sophisticated romance ballad
I knew that Evan was a keen participant in village life – I’d only been in Great Swingeing six weeks, but I’d tried to get involved as roup and a skittles team I’d met Evan at the skittles, and I knew he also played cricket and coached soot a lot of business froood section of the local populace
He was an outdoor type, a e hands, a year-round tan and a smile to match his cricket whites He alone had welcoe, without any snide comments about arty-farty townies who didn’t understand country folk There was no reason, he said, that a coeing, and it was about ti Crowd and into the 21st century
Evan’s arm rested loosely aroundthe erection of a reen, striped and beribboned, all ready for the weekend fête
‘You going to be dancing around that, Faith?’ he asked me idly
‘I haven’t danced around a maypole since I was at school Should be fun If you’ll dance with me’
He turned to , that one eyebrow raised ‘Has anyone told you about our little village tradition?’
‘What, another one? How e have?’
‘This is an ancient one – goes back to before et done much, because you have to have a feers closed around my upper arm and he whispered into my ear ‘Take me home and I’ll tell you all about it’
About half an hour later, in the flat above my shop, I lay bent over the kitchen counter, still in my blouse but with my jeans and knickers cast to the corners of the room while my overheated pussy played host to Evan’s thick, fat cock
‘Are you ready to hear about the tradition?’ he grunted, raranite units and his granite thighs, staring the knife block in the face
‘Mmm, can’t you fuck me first?’ I complained My cunt felt prickly with heat and sweat; I needed a hard, fast shafting to take the edge off
‘Don’t worry, you’ll get fucked,’ he proree to play your part at the fête’
‘Well, go on, then, tell me what it is!’ I wailed
‘Mthat I was filled to bursting before he would deign to enlighten ry little pussy, mmm’
‘Tell! Me!’
‘Back in the Dark Ages, or so the legend tells it, a erda’
‘Lovely name!’