Donna and Nellie’s Indiscretion I arrived late one evening at the pub which we always refer to as the Jill and Whistle. I was rather taken aback when I saw Nellie standing beside Donna. This would not normally arouse my indignation but on this occasion I was surprised because Nellie was holding the front of her skirt raised above her waist and Donna was staring intently at the revealed parts. I could not share the view be...

Donna and Nellie’s Tits (again) One evening, while waiting for Donna in the pub I was chatting to Nellie at the bar. It was quiet and no other customers were there. Nellie was moaning about her chest again. She had, so she told me, been out to a posh family do the weekend before and one of her tits had made a bid for freedom while she was dancing. She explained that her frock had not been suitable for a bra to be worn und...

Donna and Nellie’s Tits I arrived at the pub late one evening after a tense day at work. I found Donna sitting at ‘our’ table with Nellie who was wet eyed and sad looking. I enquired what was the matter. ‘I’m going to have them off,’ said Nellie. I was not clear what she meant. ‘My tits,’ she said, lifting them pointedly. ‘Nobody ever remembers Nellie the charming barmaid, just Nellie with the big tits. Nobody at work say...

Donna and Equality ‘If,’ said Donna, ‘all men are created equal, what about women?’ She had the ability to raise such matters at moments when I was not entirely able to reply, this time being engaged upon a mission to return a favour she had bestowed upon me earlier. Her thighs were clamped fairly tightly to my ears which made me unsure I had heard her correctly. I raised my head but she tapped it. ‘You concentrate on the...

In 1800 Maria and I were summonsed to Mistress Pickles. Jenkins, dressed in her customary Butler’s attire led us and stood in the corner as the Mistress bade us sit, then offered us sherry wine. We accepted and Jenkins served us most deferentially, offering us small glasses of the dry, Fino wine the Mistress favoured. ‘I have been discussing your future with Maria,’ she said to me and I felt a sudden fear that perhaps I w...

Time can drag sometimes. I stood at the front door of my flat, watching Tilda walk away. She didn’t look back, but I bet she knew that I continued to watch her. It wasn’t until she had turned the corner at the end of the road that I opened my door and went inside. I threw off my coat and dropped into a chair. I was tired, who wouldn’t be? I decided the laundry could wait and I went to my bedroom, set my alarm for four o’c...

Tilda was sleeping, her hair spread luxuriantly across her pillow. I sat up and in the half light looked at her. I had only once had sex with a woman on the first occasion that I met her. That was when I was travelling in Asia and met an Australian woman about my age. We were staying in the same hotel and met in the bar. She said she was alone, as I was, and asked if I would like to have dinner with her. I agreed and we w...

I sometimes write for a local amateur dramatic company. My aim is to write for the available cast, rather than script a play and for them, then, to find people to play the parts. This isn’t as easy as I had hoped but it seems to work sometimes so I probably write something for them once a year. The process is simple, however. The group arranges a meeting, usually in a room in a pub so everyone can get drunk, and we discus...

We had been in Paris for a few days and become lovers. Angela was an amazingly exciting lover and I was on a distinct high when I got home. Cloudsley, my cat, was aloof and distant when I got back. Sir Cloudsley Shovell was one of my Dad’s heroes. He’d managed to sink an entire squadron of ships in 1707 off the Isles of Scilly and, as a result of his misfortune, the race to develop a timepiece that would assist navigators...

My boss, Angela and I had become lovers during a business trip to France. It had always been a rule of mine never to mix work and romance but in her case the two were inseparable. She was a fabulous lover and after that first night in the Hotel du Roi our trip of three days became a mix of meetings, dinners and bed. I woke up the morning after our arrival still in her bed. I woke up because her mouth was covering mine and...

I almost whooped when I got the letter.  There was I, single, 30 and jobless following the collapse of the company where I had worked as PA to the Managing Director. He was a sweet man, fifty or so and devotedly married to a woman of sixty who had borne him three deeply loved daughters. I almost became a part of his family, welcomed by wife and children and accepted. The day I received my redundancy notice we had wept qui...

I may have given the impression that all in Mistress Pickles’ household was, as it were, idyllic. It would, I now conjecture, be naïve to assume that a house full of women such as it was would be so. In fact there were tensions. Not all the ladies were as pleasant as Maria or Bella. There were times of great boredom and we were somewhat restricted because of the necessary secrecy surrounding the household’s activities. We...

Donna and the Fish ‘It’s all a matter of juxtaposition.’ Donna looked exquisite. It was another exhibition at her gallery and she was wearing a beautiful pair of black, high cut trousers supported by red braces over a white shirt beneath which was a white, silk camisole. When earlier I had commented how beautiful she looked, she said, ‘I have to conceal my nipples, College. If exposed they would cause a public nuisance, p...

The scene is a beautiful hotel in the wilds of the Somerset Levels. It is a warm, late summer evening and the sun is setting over the hazy landscape. It is the occasion of my friend, Jess’s hen night and it is a quiet and small affair of perhaps nine of her closest friends. Relaxed and informal we have been sitting, talking and drinking in the lounge overlooking the hotel’s garden and across the fields beyond. I found mys...

The scene is a beautiful hotel in the wilds of the Somerset Levels. It is a warm, late summer evening and the sun is setting over the hazy landscape. It is the occasion of my friend, Jess’s hen night and it is a quiet and small affair of perhaps nine of her closest friends. Relaxed and informal we have been sitting, talking and drinking in the lounge overlooking the hotel’s garden and across the fields beyond. I found mys...