Country Pleasures

by Bond, Primula

  ‘Ben. Cousin Ben. I told you, he knows everything.’ ‘And he’s coming here?’

  ‘Hot foot! Amsterdam is like a rest-home compared with what’s been going on in this place!’

  He pulled her back towards him, holding her against his firm body, and she felt a fresh stirring of desire inside. She hooked her leg over his, realising that the burgeoning excitement wasn’t only reserved for the new, grown-up Jack. It was the thought of Ben fancying her all those years ago. Handsome, aloof Ben, who she was scared of, even now, and only ever spoke to on the phone.

  ‘Come on, let’s go see what those other sex fiends are up to.’

  She flipped away from him, suddenly restless. He groaned and put his arm across his eyes. Janie jumped up, pulled on his shorts and her broderie anglaise gypsy top; most of the buttons were missing. She walked round the corner of the cottage. Of course –there it was, just as she had envisaged the first night she and Sally were there. They had cajoled poor Derek into constructing it before he left, and there it stood. The wigwam.

  Sally bounded out of the kitchen door as Janie approached. She was carrying cushions and rugs.

  ‘We thought we could have our supper in here, but there isn’t room,’ she chirped. ‘Jono and I tried it out just now,’ she said, with a wink, ‘if you know what I mean. There’s only room for two people to do it doggy style. But you can have too much of a good thing. Even I know that! We’ll have it out here on the lawn,’ she whooped, her face flushed with sex and triumph. ‘Supper, that is!’

  Jonathan followed her with a crate of champagne and a shining new barbeque set which he’d produced from the boot of his car. Like Janie they had pulled on any old thing to wear. She giggled to see Jonathan sporting the famous pinafore. Sally had on his polo-shirt, which reached to her knees.

  ‘Guess what,’ Janie started to say, bending to go inside the wigwam and grinning with pleasure at its blood-red interior, illuminated by the setting sun. ‘Guess who’s coming to the cottage?’

  ‘What was that? We’ve got to tell you something, too.’ Sally dropped the cushions onto the grass outside. ‘Jonathan and I are going back to London.’

  Janie frowned. ‘You can’t. The summer isn’t over yet.’

  ‘I don’t mean immediately. But in the next few days. We’ve got a business to set up.’

  Janie’s limbs were heavy with a new contentment. She had no energy to argue or worry.

  ‘Whatever makes you happy, doll. Think you’ll find it hard to leave, though.’

  Sally rested her head on Janie’s arm for a moment.

  ‘You’re right. It’s been a tonic for me, coming here. I never dreamed it would be so good. You’re the best, Janie. And who would have thought that the icing on the cake would be that king of bastards following me down here and gulping down humble pie and a lot more besides?’

  ‘Who would have thought it?’

  ‘And who would have thought you would turn into the local nympho? You almost put me in the shade. I said almost.’ Sally laughed. Jonathan yelled something, and she turned to go out. ‘By the way, what were you going to tell us?’

  ‘Nothing. Nothing.’

  Janie stood in the middle of the wigwam, where the fire would be if they lit one, and stared up to the pointed, twiggy ceiling just above her head. It was just right; Derek had done well. He’d probably had a wigwam when he was a kid. But it was too small. They were adults now. It was just an illusion that they could all have played in here. She felt a slight plunge of disappointment in her chest, and as she wrapped her arms round herself something told her to keep Ben’s impending arrival to herself.

  Local nympho – daft description, but she liked it. And Sally was right. Everywhere she looked, Janie saw sex. Everyone she looked at. She stretched her aching back. She’d got the man she wanted. She was beginning to like the new Janie.

  An unexpected breeze tugged at the sheet that Derek had folded back to form the entrance to the wigwam, and someone else crept inside. Her body relaxed in the knowledge that any second now Jack’s medical hands would start to caress her again, and she knew how they would feel on her, and she would show him some more tricks. She didn’t turn round. The hairs on her neck rose as he paused behind her. She could hear him open his mouth to say something, but then she could just hear his breathing. She closed her eyes. Sally was right. There was just enough room for two in here. Somehow that had the effect of muffling the garden outside, as well. Somewhere she could hear Sally and Jonathan arguing about the food, but in here all was quiet and dark.

  At last his hands came round to her front, very slowly stroking her stomach. Hesitantly, she thought, smiling. As if he’d never touched her before. She leaned back against him, and felt him stagger slightly at her sudden relaxed weight. She took his hands and pushed them up from her waist, up over the little blouse until they rested on her breasts. She felt him stiffen with desire behind her. His fingers trod over the broderie anglaise fabric in search of buttons, and found the couple that were still straining to keep it fastened over her breasts. She kept her fingers lightly on his wrists and stopped him from flipping the buttons undone. She wanted to relish the feeling of her breasts being covered, but only just. Her tits were swelling with excitement, threatening to burst the buttons anyway. She smiled to herself, stifling excited laughter. Now she really would look like a ravished milkmaid, her little blouse sliding off her shoulders. No more sweaters, coats, baggy shirts – she hadn’t even worn a bra for a week. Her breasts pushed forwards heavily and eagerly into his hands and her laughter turned into a soft moan. He was breathing hard into her neck now, pressing himself up against her.

  ‘Hold it right there,’ Janie said into the steamy silence. ‘This is my wigwam. This is my fantasy. In here, you do as I tell you.’

  Jack paused, then drew back from her. The flap of the wigwam dropped down, enclosing them in a blood-red cocoon.

  ‘Kneel down,’ she ordered, and saw him do so. Slowly she started to undo one tiny button, revealing the deep cleft of her cleavage, the rounded shapes of her breasts illuminated by the light outside. Then she undid the other button, held the blouse closed for a moment, then opened it, and slid it off by wriggling her shoulders as she’d seen Sally do when she was doing her Kicker Girls striptease. Janie let her breasts drop heavily forwards in the light.

  As if on cue some music started up inside the house – slow, jazzy tunes. Janie took her breasts in her hands and started to knead them, gently at first, then more firmly. This was going to be her own floor show. She couldn’t dance, but she knew enough now about pleasure to do it to herself. She couldn’t see Jack’s face clearly, but she knew he was wearing a lustful expression. She could also imagine Ben’s face, kneeling beside his friend, watching her as well.

  A great surge of hot lust pounded through her as she stepped further into her fantasy. The music pounded with it, and she caressed her breasts more passionately, swaying and letting her hair swing down her back. She let herself relax, knowing those eyes were on her, knowing that those boys would be getting hard watching her and watching each other. The heat curled up from her cunt, through her body and right into her head. She was delirious with the excitement of what she was doing, and who she was with.

  She curled one arm under her breasts to keep them raised, her hand fondling and squeezing the yielding flesh, and with the other hand she pushed the shorts down and let them fall to the ground. Then she stepped across to Jack, and placed one foot on either side of him so that her crotch was up against his face. His hands stroked up the back of her legs, tickling the skin behind her knees so that they nearly buckled. She pushed her soft bush aggressively against his face and felt his breath blow across her pubes. She started to sway her hips, into him and away, unable to stop herself moving in a way that matched the ripples of desire that were already pulsating through her. He grasped her buttocks, digging his fingers into them, and pulled her pussy against his mouth. She was so horny already that when his tongue sna
ked out and touched her clitoris she let out a loud groan, ground herself against his face, then with superhuman effort she stepped away again. It wasn’t time yet. She swayed round to face the imaginary Ben. He would be up on all fours like a dog, right behind her, virtually snarling, his face nuzzling up against her thigh. She swung round again to Jack, spread her legs on either side of his head and rested her pussy against his face. He opened her sex-lips with his fingers, held them wide apart, and gently nibbled into her.

  Janie smiled to herself and felt her legs give way as Jack’s teeth worked her into a frenzy. She was surprised at how harsh he was being. She liked it. She could imagine Ben nipping and biting like that, but she had turned herself on so much just by imagining them both watching that she feared she would come quickly if she wasn’t careful. Time to slow down.

  She stepped away from Jack’s busy mouth, and heard him curse under his breath. She kept one hand on her tits and the other cupped over her bush and, forcing herself to keep her fingers still in case she flicked the button way too early, she crossed her ankles and lowered herself to the ground, just like a squaw. Then she spread her arms in a welcoming, permissive gesture, and lay back on the rug.

  Jack was crawling all over her at once, stroking and kissing up and down her prone body, pulling her legs apart, bringing her hands up over her head, and again Janie imagined that it was two of them. She rolled and twisted as Jack pulled her hair out of the way, then moved down towards her breasts and heaved them up so that her taut nipples were offered to the warm air. She wriggled and squealed, already twitching with her approaching climax, imagining herself floating above, watching the fantasy. She wondered how long she could hold on for.

  ‘I want to feel you inside me – now.’

  Janie opened her eyes and felt the familiar warmth of Jack’s body as he lay down on top of her. He pressed his mouth onto hers and kissed her long and hard, then he pushed her legs further apart, and eased his throbbing dick inside her. She knew that if she let herself go she would climax wildly with the pleasure of knowing Jack was hers once more. She could hardly picture Ben any more. This was Jack’s story. She wondered what Ben would think of her now, closeted inside this wigwam, his old friend’s cock buried deep inside her, her tits bare and swollen, her mouth open with ecstasy. She hoped he’d be impressed, but then again –what did it matter?

  ‘Janie! Jack! Someone here to see you! And the barbie’s nearly ready!’

  Sally’s voice sliced through the sound of their heavy breathing, and Janie and Jack smothered their laughter.

  ‘Just a little bit more,’ Janie breathed. ‘Do it, Jack.’

  She was wet and welcoming, and Jack was fired up, and she wrapped her legs round his waist as he started to thrust himself into her. She kept her mind on Jack, her thoughts trained on that first time, in the barn, with those lads watching through the door; kept her mind on it as if it was a film; heard herself at last calling Jack’s name. This was where she wanted to be. She let the waves of her own climax break as Jack thrust harder and harder to reach his goal. His buttocks slammed against her as he gave in, kissing her neck as he groaned her name in response and filled her with his spunk.

  They could hear giggles and shouts coming from somewhere near the barbeque. Jonathan would be there in the pinafore, tossing his sausages.

  Janie sat up, drew her knees up to her chest, feeling the sticky fluid slicking across her thighs and over her stomach. There was a chinking of glasses outside as Sally bustled noisily out onto the terrace, and the smell of charcoal heating up on the barbecue. Out on the big lawn Jonathan was noisily trying to erect the old swing seat.

  ‘Come on, let’s eat.’

  ‘Is that another order?’ Jack chuckled, as he fumbled with the wigwam doorway.

  Janie laughed. The wigwam shook precariously as they struggled to get out. It started to lurch to one side, and then Derek’s flimsy structure toppled right over, its bamboo legs in the air, the material falling gently in on itself like a collapsed parachute, leaving the two of them staggering about naked and blinking at the light.

  ‘So you found her, Jack.’

  They spun round, clutching scraps of red material round them. Jack looked like an Indian brave in a loincloth.

  Ben was standing on the grass, looking hot and incongruous in a grey business suit. He looked around his own garden as if he’d just landed from Mars. Janie remembered that slightly defensive stance. When Ben was a boy he would plant his feet in that exact fashion, slightly apart, when he was faced with an argument. Except usually he would be brandishing a bow and arrow, as well, to emphasise his superiority.

  ‘Ben!’ cried Jack, trying to greet him amid a clatter of bamboo twigs. ‘Good to see you! How was Amsterdam? I wasn’t sure exactly when –’

  ‘Look at you; the pair of you. Can’t trust you for a second. I thought you were supposed to be looking after the place, Janie?’

  ‘Ben! I – I have been. I mean, I am. You can see. All new.’

  Janie bit her lip, furious at the way he made her feel eight years old again. Jack put his arm round her.

  ‘And I thought you were over that crush of yours, Jack? I didn’t expect to see you both rolling about in my garden when I got back from yet another tough, exhausting business trip. Amsterdam was tough and exhausting, thanks for asking.’

  ‘It’s hard to take a telling-off when you’re butt-naked. Sorry, Ben,’ Jack pointed out. ‘And I refuse to believe that you haven’t been up to some pretty racy things yourself while you’ve been over there. I mean, Amsterdam’s your home from home, isn’t it? Tough and exhausting? I don’t think so. All those canals, those bridges, those rickety gables, those doe-eyed girls, creatures of the night sitting cross-legged in the ultraviolet light of their windows, beckoning –’

  Ben started to laugh. He took his jacket off and threw it across the back of one of the terrace chairs.

  ‘Someone’s got to be grafting away to keep you lot in cottages and barbecues! I’m only kidding. It’s great to see that you’ve finally got it together. You always had the hots for Janie, even when we were all beating the shit out of each other.’

  ‘I had the hots for you, too,’ Janie blurted out.

  ‘Ah, she speaks! Well, my timing this time was cockeyed yet again, wasn’t it? And the best man won.’

  Janie glanced at Jack. ‘Yes, he did.’

  ‘Now then, now then, what’s going on here? You all look far too serious,’ chirruped Sally, bustling across the lawn and brandishing a pair of tongs. ‘If you two have stopped shagging in the – in what’s left of the wigwam, it’s time to tuck in.’

  ‘Is that what it is? A wigwam?’ Ben snorted.

  ‘Don’t you snort, young man,’ Sally chided. ‘That’s Janie’s fantasy, that is. You don’t know the half of it.’ She waved the tongs at Janie. ‘You’ve come a long way, girl. I never thought we’d get further than talking about it in front of the fire and now look. You’ve shagged yourself senseless in there. Just one member of the cast missing, wasn’t there?’

  ‘What are you on about?’ asked Ben, undoing his collar and flipping his tie undone.

  ‘We’re talking about fantasies, cousin Ben,’ Sally said, as she picked up some more cushions and rugs and dropped them in an inviting pile near the barbecue. ‘This cottage of yours is enchanted. All sorts of things happen here. And how beautifully your little cousin Janie has grown up, wouldn’t you agree?’

  ‘Yes, definitely. Her friend isn’t so bad, either.’

  Sally slapped him on the arm. Jonathan turned from the barbecue to see what was going on, and they all laughed at him.

  ‘He can’t tell me off for flirting,’ chortled Sally. ‘Not when he looks like the cover of a raunchy cookery book! Now, Ben, you’re wearing too many clothes. Why not start with the trousers? You need to take these trousers off. Come on, there’s a good boy.’

  She started to undo his belt buckle, and slipped it expertly out from around his waist. Ben held h
is hands up in surrender.

  ‘It’s difficult to tell who’s in charge,’ he yelped, as Sally advanced on him again, snapping her tongs.

  ‘Sally, I need a hand here!’ shouted Jonathan. There was a clanking of metal as the swing seat conspired to fall apart again.

  ‘Let’s eat!’ Ben pleaded, backing away from Sally towards the food.

  ‘Let’s help Jonathan,’ Jack said, then kissed Janie and followed Ben across the grass. ‘And I’ll try to explain about who exactly is in charge.’

  ‘Yes, would you do that? For some reason I thought I’d left Maddock in charge of my property while I was away, but I see no sign of him.’

  ‘I get the feeling he was made to feel, how shall we say, redundant. Janie did all the work on the cottage. He came round once or twice, I believe.’

  Jack and Ben sat down on the rug and watched Janie tossing the salad and Sally taking a hefty bite out of a sausage.

  ‘I bet he did,’ murmured Ben. ‘Must have scared the living daylights out of them, if I know anything about his tactics!’

  ‘They gave as good as they got,’ Jack replied, but Janie shot him a look. She knew he wasn’t comfortable with that particular anecdote.

  ‘Maddock’s used to being king of the heap around here, isn’t he?’ she remarked, handing them two heaped plates.

  ‘And a very good king he makes, too, in a caveman kind of way,’ Sally added with her mouth full, ‘but he’s had some knocks this summer. Even the barmaid dumped him.’

  Jonathan had given up trying to assemble the swing seat and had pulled his trousers back on. He thumped a tray of bottles and glasses down on the grass. The twilight had dropped over the garden, and a riotous full moon was floating in the navy-blue sky.

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about Maddock,’ Ben said, and they all looked at him. ‘He looked happy as a pig in shit when I dropped in at the Honey Pot earlier. There’s a new bird behind the bar already, and she looked right up his alley.’

  ‘A proper country wench, you mean?’ Janie asked, winking at Jack.