My visits to the country house were fairly sporadic although always thrilling. I was never one for over-indulgence with one partner, I liked to leave gaps between liaisons so the anticipation could build. Paul and Serena were always incredibly magnanimous and generous hosts and visiting them always felt like a privilege. Not only because of Serena. Well, actually, mainly due to Serena. The beauty and indulgent comfort of their opulent home was only surpassed by her irresistible beauty and shy, yet yearning, sexuality. It was a privilege and never-ending delight to be in their company. My evenings, mornings and daytimes spent deep in their country pile, ploughing deep into Serena’s furrow of joy remain some of my fondest and hottest memories. Sheer indulgence, sheer poetry, sheer lustful bliss.
Initially I travelled down to see them every other month on a Saturday evening and drove home afterwards sated and deeply enchanted by Serena’s iridescent beauty and her endless wardrobe of exquisite lingerie which adorned her seductive, shapely body in a way that always roused my libido to boiling point. It was never just her physical allure that made me besotted. Although always dressed to seduce an animalistic caveman she had an endearing innocence. It was almost as if it would have been fatal to her if she showed any sign or evidence of being in need of a solid pounding. Her raging need for intimacy needed to be gently coaxed. She needed a man who was able to take control who could cajole and tease her into acquiescence. Once her mind was aroused there was always a moment where her gates were unlocked and permission was willingly granted. It was like being given a password, the provision of which gave unfettered access to explore all of the territory. All of it….and always with joyful, liberated and unbounded enthusiasm.
For Paul these occasions were pleasing. He was always a welcoming, charming and avuncular host. He was a successful businessman whose only impediment was that he’d chosen a wife who was a good 20 years younger than he was, whose needs were voracious and needed sating. He’d had to come to terms with the fact that, to keep her happy, he needed to find a compromise for his declining libido. They were, in many ways, an idyllic and very happy couple. Their bond made stronger by the fact that they obviously talked about how to make sure that their relationship flourished. I could imagine why letting a younger man into their lives to satisfy his wife might be demeaning and degrading. But he showed no signs of disgruntlement. In fact, he revelled in his wife’s enjoyment and always thanked me warmly and enthusiastically on the way to the front door when it was time to leave.
There was another factor which is worth a swift mention, though not worth dwelling on. He was not blessed. In fact, he was very unblessed. Size is not everything, of course. But it’s only fair to point out that Serena was always extremely keen for me to expose my robust length. She took enormous pleasure in examining, caressing and using all I had. Her hunger for it, in her inimitable, restrained type of way, was deeply exhilarating. My abiding memory of Paul was of him sitting in a chair in the corner of the room watching the action unfold while pleasuring himself with what might easily have been a tube of lipstick.
What was habitually a Saturday night watching Serena walk down the regal staircase dressed in yet another Agent Provocateur special with undisguised and unrestrained excitement, became less formulaic as we got to know each other better and trust took hold. Saturday nights were extended to include a sleepover where I was accommodated overnight in one of the luxurious spare bedrooms. The reasons for this were twofold. Firstly, so I wasn’t in danger of failing a breathalyser; and, secondly, and possibly more significantly, so I was available for ‘breakfast’. Though, for this I didn’t even need to move from my bed. My breakfast tray arrived with a gentle knock on the door. The perpetrator was wearing the slinkiest of negligees and came with soft, nervous giggling. She slid under the covers and was all mine to do as I pleased. Pleased? I was ecstatic. I had her all to myself on those golden early mornings. She reached out to me and encouraged me to give her enough pleasure to last a lonely week. To fill her with enough sustenance to sate her ravishing hunger. Breakfast in bed has never been the same since.
There was always one detail which I noted. She always left the door open. Once I noticed a shadow outside the door. I knew that we had a witness. Though this never worried me, it just enticed me to perform with even more vigour. I wanted him to know that his wife was getting the Full English.