The Village That FuckedThe Village That Fucked



The following story is a sex romp with the philosophy that, as long as all participants are fully consenting adults, anything goes.

So, why the warning?

Because ‘anything’ includes incest. Right from the start there’s borderline mother/daughter and, not much farther in, father/daughter is implied if not actually described. Farther on down the line… if family members find themselves in the same ‘swinging’ club then who knows what may happen.

In fact I may have shot myself in the foot. Group Sex fans may well recoil from this sprinkling of incest whereas incest fans certainly won’t find enough here to pique their interest.

With that in mind I feel it’s a Group Sex story and by no means an incest story so Group Sex is where I’m posting.

So, you have been warned. If incest puts you off then read no further. However, if you have an open mind…


Mike Higgins could hardly believe his luck. Surely this couldn’t be happening, it had to be a dream, this couldn’t be real. However, there was no doubt about it; the sensations coming from his prick were real, amazingly real. Moreover, it really was Mrs Patterson’s blonde head that was bobbing away above his lap; it really was her lips around his prick, it really was her tongue playing across his glans, he really was getting a blow job from the hottest MILF in St Marys. To say that this was the best blow job of his life was a given; it was, at that point, the only blow job of his life and the fact that it was Mrs Patterson who was doing it beggared belief.

Although she was, quite literally, old enough to be his mother, she was tall, slim, blonde and stylish and had more sex appeal in her little finger than most girls half her age. Growing up she had featured largely in his adolescent fantasies; never once had he dared to dream that these fantasies would ever come true and, yet, that was exactly what was happening. What’s more, the reality surpassed his every expectation. This was the best, the best thing ever and his only worry was that he was about to blow it all in every sense of the word. What was the protocol here? What should he do?

“Please, Mrs Patterson,” he gasped, “that’s wonderful, really amazing, but I’m about to come. I don’t think… I don’t think I can hold back much longer.”

Mrs Patterson didn’t miss a beat but just looked up, smiled, and, if anything, took him deeper into her mouth.

“You don’t need to worry about holding back,” came a voice from his left. “If you’re going to shoot your load then do it. Round here it’s not reckoned to be a proper blow job unless you swallow.”

Mike looked across. Lying on the sun lounger next to him was the icing on the cake in this truly amazing scenario. Not only was he getting a blow job from Mrs Patterson but Jess, her daughter, was avidly watching the whole thing. She lay on her side, her eyes bright with excitement and her hand buried deep inside the bottom half of her bikini which, like her mother, was the only thing she was wearing. She saw Mike looking at her, licked her lips and gave him a knowing wink. That was it, that was enough to tip him over the edge.

Mike seemed to lose control as, overcome by his orgasm, he arched his back and, giving a series of guttural croaks, he pumped his jism deep, deep into Mrs Patterson’s waiting mouth. Time and time again he felt himself spurt and spurt until, completely drained, he collapsed back, exhausted. As he drifted off, basking in the afterglow and waiting for his heart rate to subside he was vaguely aware of Mrs Patterson licking up the last few drops as they leaked from his rapidly declining prick. Finished at last, she looked up, licked her lips and smiled.

“There, all done. OK?”

“That was fabulous, simply wonderful. Thank you, thank you.”

“Not bad for an old hag like me, eh?”

“Please, Mrs Patterson, you’re not old and you’re certainly not a hag!”

“You make me sound old when you call me Mrs Patterson. Come along, you’re all grown up now, call me Emily.”

“Thank you, Emily, I will.”

“Excellent. Now, I need a drink after all that. Can I fetch you anything?”

“Just a Coke, please, I’m driving.”

“Coke it is. Another gin and tonic for you, Jess?”

“Yes, please.”

As Mrs Patterson went off to fetch the drinks Mike pulled his Speedos back up and sat up on the lounger.

“So, does your mum give blow jobs to everyone who does a bit of gardening for her.”

“Of course not, sometimes it’s my turn to do it.”

Mike just gawped at her.

“Oh, don’t be such a prude. Let’s just say that mum and dad have always had a pretty relaxed attitude to sex and, ever since my eighteenth birthday, that’s included me as well.”

“Are you saying that…”

“All I’m saying is that, around here, as long as everyone involved is a fully consenting adult then where’s the harm in having a little fun? Anyway, you didn’t seem so uptight when it was you that was getting the old gobble-gobble.”

“Who’s Kazımkarabekir Escort getting the old gobble-gobble?”

Mike looked up to see that Mr Patterson was joining them. He cringed with embarrassment.

“Hi dad! Mum was just giving Mike a blow job as a tip for doing the garden and now he’s a little uptight about it.”

“No need for that. No need at all. Don’t want anyone around here feeling uptight about something as trivial as a blow job! So, Mike, how was it? Call me biased but, personally, I think Emily gives some of the best blow jobs in Britain. Mind you, I have to confess, I’ve yet to try them all.”

“It was fine, lovely.”

“I’m sure it was better than ‘fine’ but then, a gentleman never tells, eh?”

At that point Mrs Patterson returned with the drinks and the chat moved on to the local village fête which was to be held on the next Sunday.


Later that night Mike lay in bed, his hand cradling his cock as he replayed the events of the day and the circumstances that had led up to them.

It had all started on the train journey home from uni. He’d taken the West Coast Express which meant changing at Preston where he could catch the local bone rattler which would take him to the station nearest St Marys where he lived. He’d had nearly an hour to wait between trains and had been mooching about the platform when he heard his name being called out loud.

“Mike? Mike Higgins?”

He’d turned and there, coming towards him, was Jess Patterson. Mike only half knew her; they had been friends in primary school but, ever since eleven, when Jess had gone off to that posh boarding school, their paths hadn’t crossed much. Given that she too lived in St Marys it made sense that she would be joining him on the local train.

“Hello, Jess. It’s been a while. How are you?”

“Pretty good. Ready for the summer hols. By the looks of things you’re just back from uni as well.”

“Yeah, I’m doing Computer Science at Warwick.”

“Politics and Sociology at Oxford.” Jess took a step back and looked him up and down. “It has been a while, hasn’t it. I guess we’ve both come a long way since Miss Biggin’s class back in primary school. You’re looking good, Mike. University must agree with you. Loads of girlfriends, no doubt.”

“One or two, nothing special,” Mike bluffed. In fact he was a bit shy and hadn’t had much luck. He certainly wasn’t going to let on that he was still a virgin; something he dreamed of remedying as soon as possible. In his dreams he would lose it to a girl like Jess Patterson but, back in the real world, he set his sights a lot lower. The drop-dead gorgeous daughter of the local millionaire was completely out of his league. He was even surprised that she remembered who he was.

As the local train made its way across the Lancashire countryside they continued to chat and, when Jess discovered that Mike was planning to take the bus back to St Marys she insisted that, as she was being picked up by her mother, the obvious answer was for her to give them both a lift. She sent a text warning her that there would be one more in the car.

When they were met at the station Mike got the distinct impression that Mrs Patterson was giving him the same appraisal as Jess had done back in Preston. She was certainly very friendly and, as she steered her BMW MX6 through the narrow lanes she asked Mike about his plans for the summer. When he confessed that he hadn’t got anything concrete but would be looking for casual work Mrs Patterson suggested that, as their gardener had retired and they were having trouble finding a replacement, Mike might want to do a couple of afternoons a week keeping their extensive grounds under control. Mike wasn’t sure at first but Mrs Patterson turned on the charm and, in the end, she was impossible to resist.

So it was that, a couple of days later, he found himself mowing the lawns and tidying the boarders. It was a beautiful day and, while he worked away, Jess and Mrs Patterson came out to lie by the pool and work on their tans. Naturally he kept his head down and tried to be the model employee but the fact that they were both sunbathing topless was a huge distraction.

Come four o’clock he’d finally put away the lawnmower and made his way back to the house. Mrs Patterson got up from her sun lounger and, putting on a light cotton top, came over to sort out his wages.

“Look at you, all hot and sweaty. Why don’t you have a quick dip in the pool, help you cool down after all that hard work?”

“I’d love to but I haven’t got any swimming trunks.”

“Oh, never mind about that. We keep a few spares for times like this. What waist are you?”

“Well, if you’re sure… I’m a twenty eight waist.”

Mrs Patterson found him a pair of swimming trunks, showed him where to get changed in their home gym and, minutes later, he was doing laps in their pool. Mrs Patterson had returned to her sun lounger and, as he Escort Kazımkarabekir swum up and down, she and Jess watched him swim. The water was cool and refreshing but, fatigued from all the gardening, and it wasn’t long before he had had enough and was climbing out and reaching for his towel. Mrs Patterson chose that moment to top up her sunscreen, smoothing the cream over her upper body. Watching her sooth the cream over her arms was sensual enough but, when she started on her breasts… Much as he tried to be matter-of-fact about it Mike couldn’t help but gawp at her.

“Enjoying the view?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Oh, I don’t mind you staring. It’s nice to know I’ve still got a body worth staring at. What’s more, judging by the bulge in your Speedos, you like what you’re seeing. Is that right? Do you find me sexy?”

Mike just blushed.

“Come on, I’m fishing for complements, here. So, does my ancient body turn you on?”

“You’re not ancient.”

“I’m old enough to be your mother but, then I gather some of you young lads like it that way. MILF, isn’t that the term? Do I qualify? Am I a mum you’d like to fuck?”

“You’re a very attractive woman…”

“But you’d prefer Jess, is that it?”

“No, no, of course not!”

“Gee thanks! Jess interjected.

“I didn’t mean…” Mike felt trapped. Whichever one he said he preferred he’d end up insulting the other. “Please, Jess, Mrs Patterson, you’re both wonderful, sexy women and I’d give practically anything to have a chance with either of you but please don’t make me decide which.”

“Oh, Mike, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that. We were just having a bit of fun, nothing serious. We wouldn’t dream of making you choose between us. Tell you what, you’re such a smashing lad, let me give you a blow job to make up for it?”

“A blow job!”

“You said you’d give practically anything to have a chance with me; thing is, I’m not up for a fuck, not at the moment, anyhow, so how about we compromise on a blow job.”

“This is another joke, right?”

“Trust me, I never joke about blow jobs. Now, are you going to lay back on that sun lounger and let me do my stuff or is Jess going to have to hold you down?” Mrs Patterson’s broad grin betrayed her statement about joking about blow jobs but, even so, there was still an air of command about her.

Mike was stunned. Mrs Patterson, on the flimsiest of pretexts, was offering him a blow job. Surely there must be a catch. Women like her just didn’t so things like that. He didn’t know whether to believe her or not. Part of him was having difficulty in coping and wanted to run away. On the other hand, if she was serious, and she certainly appeared so, then he wasn’t sure there was a way of turning down this offer without causing offence. Despite the feeling that, any moment, someone was going to jump out of the bushes and shout “gotcha!” it seemed that compliance was going to be the path of least resistance and, after all, he would get a blow job out of it.

“This sun lounger?”

“That’s the one. Good lad. Now, let’s get those Speedos out of the way…” Mrs Patterson got up off her sun lounger and knelt down beside the one Mike was now lying on. As if it were the most normal thing in the world she reached for the waist band of his Speedos and, with a certain amount of tugging, pulled them down to mid thigh. Then she took his prick in her fingers and stroked it up and down while Mike looked on in amazement.

“There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it. Now, lie back and let me do the work.” She leant forward and took the tip of his prick into her mouth.

What followed was, without doubt, the most amazing few minutes of Mike’s life so far. This may have been Mike’s first blow job but it was clear that Mrs Patterson was no beginner. One moment she was playing the tip of her tongue across Mike’s glans, the next she was taking him deep, deep into her mouth. All too quickly he could feel the spunk begin to boil in his balls, all to quickly he was approaching the point of no return. He knew he ought to withdraw but Mrs Patterson and Jess seemed to think otherwise and, as the spunk erupted from him he knew that he had found heaven.

And, as he lay in bed later that night, that was the memory that kept him hard. That and speculating on what might lie ahead. The summer was only just beginning. Was this a one-off or would blow jobs become part and parcel of his pay package? He remembered Mrs Patterson saying she was not up for a fuck ‘at that moment’. Did this mean that there might be other moments when she was ‘up for a fuck’? And what of Jess? She had hinted that she too shared her parents ‘pretty relaxed attitude to sex’. Did that mean he might bed the daughter as well as the mother. His fist pumped like fury.


The next day Mike was not due at the Patterson’s so he was mooching around the house at a loose end. He was therefore Kazımkarabekir Escort Bayan grateful when his phone went and, to his surprise, it was Jim Boyd, an old school friend. While they both lived in St Marys, Jim was a year ahead of him at school and they’d never really been friends. The surprises continued when Jim suggested that they meet up for a couple of pints at the Grapes.

Right from the start Jim set a fearsome pace and Mike found he had downed two pints before he really knew what had hit him. His guard was therefore down when Jim turned to him and said “I hear you’re working for the Pattersons. That Emily Patterson, she’s a bit of a looker, isn’t she.”

“She’s a very nice lady.”

“Oh, I’ve heard that she’s more than that. I hear she puts out. What about you? Has she made any moves on you?”

“Jim, I work there as a gardener. That’s all.”

“You know what they say about gardeners… Lady Chatterley’s lover and all that. I bet she likes to get down and dirty in the potting shed? I bet you’ve been dibbing in her vegetable garden?”

Despite Mike’s protestations Jim kept on in this vein and, as the third and fourth pints went down, Mike was getting pretty annoyed. Jim seemed to be suggesting that, if Mrs Patterson wasn’t making moves on Mike, then it was somehow his fault and, maybe, he was gay.

“Look, Jim,” Mike finally snapped, “I work there as a gardener and that’s that. As for your suggestions… Mrs Patterson is a respectable married woman and what you’re implying is rude and uncivil. Thanks for the beer but I’ve had enough and I’m going home.”

Lurching slightly from all that real ale Mike stormed out of the pub, made his way across the village green and managed to make it home to bed in one piece.

The next day Mike was feeling the after effects of four pints of real ale so, rather than suffer the noise of the lawn mower he went off to the vegetable garden and settled down to some quiet weeding. He was still cross with Jim; what a boring idiot he’d been banging on and on about Mrs Patterson like that. She was worth far more than some mucky village gossip.

He was still hard at it when Jess appeared.

“Hi, Mike, I’ve been looking all over for you. Can you come up to the house; mum would like a word.”

Mike’s heart sunk. Being summoned to the house had to mean trouble. He went to the stables, rinsed off his hands and brushed down his jeans. Then, leaving his wellingtons by the back door, he knocked and went on in.

He was rather shocked to find that Mrs Patterson was not alone. Sitting around the kitchen table were Jess, Jim Boyd and Liz Fordham, one of the village girls.

“Sit down, Mike. I’m afraid we have a bit of a confession to make.”


“We had to find out if you were discreet. Don’t ask why; I’ll tell you in a minute or two. Anyway, that’s why I had to come on a bit strong the other day and then Jim here, had to give you the third degree to see if you’d blab. I gather you passed with flying colours.”

“Quiet as the grave. I got him pissed as a fart and all that happened was he got cross with me for impugning your fine name. Sorry, by the way. Was I awful?”

“You were a bit of a bully but at least I got a drink out of it. But please,” he turned back to Mrs Patterson, “what’s this all about?”

“We run a little club for likeminded people from the village and we’re wondering if you’d like to join.”


“There are a number of us, all local people, who enjoy… let’s say we enjoy a bit of variety. Nothing heavy, nothing serious but, every now and again, we like to get together and have some fun.”

“What sort of fun?” Mike looked around the table.

“The sort of fun only grown-ups can have.”

Even then it took a moment or two before the penny dropped.

“You mean like wife swapping? Keys in a bowl sort of thing?”

“Apart from the fact that calling it ‘wife swapping’ is so awfully seventies, we wives are no more possessions to be swapped than you boys are, and, what’s more, we’ve never actually done the car keys in a bowl thing, but, yes, it’s a bit like that.”

“But why would you want me? For starters I haven’t got a wife to swap.”

“Because it’s strictly couples only and I need a partner,” Jess cut in.

“Sorry, have I got this straight?” Mike couldn’t hide his disbelief. “You, Jess Patterson, want me, Mike Higgins to be your partner at a wife swapping party?”

“Mum told you, it’s not wife swapping and yes, I would like you to be my partner.”

“But surely there must be a million other guys who would gladly offer.”

“Well, two reasons: firstly it’s strictly a village thing and you were born and brought up here. Secondly I don’t want other guys, I want you. Please, Mike, don’t make a girl beg.”

Mike was almost as dumbfounded as when Mrs Patterson had insisted she give him a blow job.

“If you’re sure it’s me you want then that’s very flattering. But, look, the sex thing… I have to admit, I’m not the most experienced in bed.” Despite the embarrassment Mike felt better admitting this than finding out he was expected to be some sort of Lothario.”

“Don’t worry about that. None of us were when we joined and it will be fun teaching you.”

Mike just blushed.

“I don’t know, it’s all a bit…”

Bir yanıt yazın

E-posta adresiniz yayınlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir