Fridays, however, were much more to my taste and was very much ‘the men’s’ drinking evening.Other than a guy called Cedric, who was as camp as a...row of pink Ferraris, I appeared to be the only other gay person frequenting the bar. Cedric was the local hairdresser and lived on a smallholding five miles out of the village. He took care of all the local ladies coiffure requirements and thankfully only visited the pub once a month. I always avoided him like the plague.All the local guys looked like. This is the backdrop from which the rest of our sexual exploration will take place. Its starts again with us inviting him back two weeks later on a Saturday afternoon.We had already decided I would be closer to the action this time. To be honest I am not sure I could have stayed away. However, if I was to be closer we agreed I would still play a subservient role. This time I was already on the bed naked as they walked in together. They started to undress themselves than Emma lay on the bed next. Not being able to stand any more, Scott grunted as he gave one final thrust into her quivering hole. He slumped against her as she felt his dick jerk inside her, spurting out his load. They collapsed onto the floor in an exhausted heap, just as the bell went. “Wow!” Claire gasped, trying to regain her composure before heading off to french class. Scott stood up, slipping off the condom into a piece of tissue. Before he could put his dick back into his boxers, the door burst open. “What the. A glass and a friendly voice would sort it though and then, she said, she’d sleep until Saturday. ‘Saturday,’ she said, is when we are going to Winchester.’ Oh, were we? ‘I know this gorgeous little village pub just outside and my PA has booked us a room with dinner. You’ll adore it. We can be tourists in Winchester which is lovely and boff ourselves senseless under oak beams and the influence of drink. If you refuse me I shall take rat poison.’ I had plans for the weekend, which were eminently.
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