Social Decline(Current Rating 75/100, based on 71 votes)
The Honourable Pamela Morton looked at her Mother & Father in utter dismay as they imparted the news that her father was definitely not going to be fit enough to attend the local village Fete & perform the traditional opening ceremony. Such was the annual duty of the local titled family – and had been for many generations.
“I’m really no good at that sort of thing – and anyway, I don’t know anybody. If I lived here regularly it’d be different” she argued.
“I’m sorry, Darling,” soothed her Mother, “But you’re the obvious choice. I shall have to stay here until the Doctor’s been”
Pamela left the room in a huff and went to her bedroom. She was a 21-year old who had been schooled at a very expensive establishment in the Home Counties & where the nearest thing to sex had been a number of ‘girlie’ experiments with fingers in the darkness of the dormitory; none had done more than make her feel that sex was an unnecessary addition to her busy life both at school and thereafter. She was what a kind man would describe as “quite pleasant to look at” – but no more, and as a result, her experience with men was extremely limited, having met a number of her Father’s friends at dances – all of whom seemed only vaguely interested in (and totally ignorant of) the mysteries of her body.
She looked at her watch and realised she had about an hour to get ready for the Fete. She stripped off her jodhpurs, sweater & very plain white underwear before taking a quick shower. As she dried herself she cast a casual glance at the full-length wardrobe mirror; nothing that verged on sexy and a bit heavy around her bum & waist – probably due to the amount of time she spent on horseback and her love of all the wrong foods. Her body was reasonably well-proportioned with a large firm bust and shapely muscular thighs that met in a thick untrimmed bush of dark pubic hair; she regarded the mass of hair with the same disinterest as she did the monthly feminine inconvenience that caused her to restrict her riding on occasions. The only thing she did attend to regularly was underarm shaving – and she decided that was OK for today.
In a drawer of the Sheriton chest she found clean white pants and a bra, deciding to go bare-legged. The wardrobe revealed a vast array of clothes – mostly unsuitable for village wear, and she selected a flowered full-cut frock that would suit the warm weather. Her make-up took all of five minutes, being limited to some deodorant, a quick splash of perfume and some lipstick. Flat shoes completed the outfit and she went down to get the Range Rover keys.
“You look nice & summery,” commented her Mother, the remark being greeted by a terse reply from Pamela.
“I feel ridiculous – why can’t I go in jeans or something?”
“Because you’re representing the family that owns a large part of the village. Now here are the keys & off you go! – and don’t forget you also have to put in an appearance at the ‘Do’ this evening”
While this family feud was taking place, three people were having a drink in the Plough Inn about a mile down the road. The Colonel was Chairman of the Fete Committee, Miss Dodson was in charge of various stalls (but always ensured there was someone else to do the actual work) and Tom Wills was the young local farmer who provided most of the mechanical & manual assistance to erect all the stalls. He had recently taken over a tenant farm on the Morton estate, following the death of his father, and was one of a few eligible bachelors in the area.
They were all aware of the change to the VIP that would open the Fete that afternoon and as Tom took sips of his pint, his mind wandered to the daughter of his Landlord. He wondered idly whether she had ever been with a real man – not one of those foppish men he saw occasionally at the Big House, but one who would take charge of her & really give the girl something to remember. On second thoughts he decided ‘Probably not’. Underneath those expensive riding clothes she was probably very hairy, overweight, and still thought that the cleft between her legs was solely for peeing.
The Colonel interrupted his reverie.
“You’re more her age, young Tom, so will you look after the wench once she’s done the official bit?”
“If you want me to, Colonel” he replied with reluctance, wondering what his duties would entail.
“Just escort her around the stalls and make sure she spends a bit of money, the take her to the Tea tent for some refreshment. She’ll probably have had enough by then and you can see her off and get back to finding one of the more generous local girls to educate” the Colonel chuckled, “I suppose I’ll have to do my duty by her this evening, and keep her away from the village males”
“I don’t hold with all that immoral behaviour that occurs later in the day” complained Miss. Dodson – a spinster who had never been touched by any man.
Shortly after two, the assembled villagers and some tourists gathered in front of the farm trailer that served as a platform and after the Colonel had welcomed everyone, Tom appeared, escorting the reluctant Pamela. She forced a smile and formally declared the Fete “Open” before being led to the end of the platform by Tom.
Access to the trailer was provided by three straw bales forming steps and Tom descended first, turning to assist Pamela down. Despite the flat shoes she missed her footing, the top bale slid sideways and she ended on the grass with Tom spreadeagled on top of her.
The front row of the crowd cheered and Tom scrambled to his feet, blushing furiously and full of apologies. For her part Pamela angrily tried - unsuccessfully - to pull down her skirt that was pinned beneath her and exposing a vast length of bare thigh.
Tom tried to avert his eyes as he reached down to help her to her feet but couldn’t avoid the view of the white panties stretched tightly between her legs.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Pamela,” he stammered.
“Get me up and away from here” she almost growled, managing at last to restore her dignity.
“Shall we tour the stalls now?” he asked, at a loss to say anything else.
“Not at the moment, thank you, just take me back to the Rover and let me make myself presentable”
They walked self-consciously away from the crowd and she got into the driving seat of the Range Rover. Tom closed the door for her and without thinking, walked around and climbed into the passenger seat.
They sat in silence for a few moments and Tom began another faltering apology.
“Don’t bother” she retorted, “It’s happened and I’m still in one piece”
“They certainly won’t forget this year’s Fete” Tom said, glancing across at the girl.
She turned to him with a changed expression on her face. It broke into a friendly smile and she started giggling. “Just as well the Local Press weren’t there to take pictures – I hate to think what the caption would have been”
Tom relaxed, and taking advantage of her change of mood, said “ Local landowner’s daughter opens everything at the Fete,” he suggested with a chuckle.
She raised an arm and playfully slapped him on the chest, “Was it that bad?”
“Nothing bad about it – quite nice actually” he said kindly, “you’ve certainly nothing to be ashamed of” he said boldly, his mind focussing on the white cotton rather than the slightly fat thighs.
Pamela looked at him strangely, her hand nervously brushing her skirt down over her knees. She had suddenly had a rather funny feeling inside – one that seemed to be centred in the pit of her stomach and made her blush.
“I’m going to drive up to the top field where there’s a breeze and we can come back later,” she said suddenly, starting the engine and slipping the vehicle into gear.
“I’ll see you when you get back” said Tom, reaching for the door handle.
“No, you just stay there,” she ordered as they moved off slowly and drove across the field to the gate.
It took about five minutes to reach the top field where she shut off the engine and they could look down on the Fete from a distance of about a mile.
Pamela got out of the car and stood looking at the magnificent view over the valley.
“I suppose I should think myself lucky to be part of this” she said quietly.
“It’s a pity you aren’t here all the time to enjoy it” said Tom, climbing down and joining her.
“Not enough excitement for me here” she said, glancing at him.
“Depends what sort of things excite you. Can’t say I yearn to be in London. A dirty smelly place where you have to dress up all the time and nobody knows you”
Pamela laughed, “It is possible to make friends there” she retorted.
“Like the weird chaps that visit down here?” he replied, “They don’t look like real men to me – a bit wimpish”
“That’s very rude – some of them are quite nice” she replied, smiling at his description of the men she had brought down sometimes for a weekend’s shooting.
“I’m sure” he said unconvinced, “But do they treat you like a proper man should?”
“I don’t know about that” she said, “They’re always well-behaved”
“How uninteresting for you – and not very satisfying”
Pamela turned to Tom and he caught a whiff of the perfume she was wearing.
Afterwards he realised that he could have jeopardised his entire future, but at that moment he seemed to be taken over by an impulse he couldn’t restrain – perhaps the earlier beers had clouded his normally very selective tastes. He put an arm around her rather large waist and drew her to him, planting a hard kiss on her unsuspecting full lips.
She didn’t pull away immediately, but uttered a gasp as their lips parted, sensing the same funny feelings in her stomach –like tiny electric shocks focussed between her thighs.
“Why did you do that?” she queried, slightly breathless.
“Because I wanted to” he said simply, “Did you mind?”
She stayed silent, looked him straight in the eyes and raised an arm to his neck.
“No” she breathed, “but you took me by surprise”
Despite the fact that he could think of about six local girls that were far sexier than Pamela, Tom could feel himself growing within his chinos and leant over again.
“So this time it won’t be so surprising,” he said as he kissed her again.
Her mouth responded eagerly – almost hungrily and the kiss lasted some seconds before she paused for breath. Tom let his arm slide casually around to the front of her dress and rested it lightly on the curve of her ample breast, squeezing it very gently.
Pamela let out an almost inaudible moan and shivered. She had never felt like this before but knew she had to stop him – quickly.
With a gasp as his fingers stroked the soft flesh, she pushed him away, “No Tom, you mustn’t – we must get back to the Fete”
Tom reluctantly withdrew his hand and she quickly refastened her dress.
“I’m sorry” Tom muttered, rather embarrassed that he had let his feelings get the better of him.
Pamela smiled at him, “You don’t have to be sorry – it was as much my fault as yours”
They drove back to the Fete in silence and after parking the Rover Pamela accompanied him on a dutiful round of the various stalls. Half an hour later she suggested she had done her duty and would like to head for home. Tom escorted her back to the car and before she left he enquired whether she was attending the dance later on.
“I’m under Father’s orders to be there,” she said with a grin.
“Would you like to be formally escorted by a Committee member?”
“I’d be delighted, kind Sir, - will you pick me up at seven?”
“I’ve only got my old Land Rover,” he said apologetically.
“I’ve ridden in one before” she said by way of acceptance, and drove off with a cheery wave.
At five Tom returned to the farm and sat in the vast kitchen with a coffee, contemplating the events of the afternoon. He had grown up under the influence of his Father and had inherited the elder’s view that the Landed Gentry were all snobs who lived off their tenants. However, he was now beginning to form a different opinion. Not only had the Honourable Pamela taken the embarrassing fall in good heart, she had been content to be with him and had demonstrated that perhaps she was not the frigid Ice Maiden he had previously imagined; ‘What the hell’ he thought, ‘At least I won’t have to search for a partner tonight’ He went out to the Land Rover and removed two plastic fertiliser sacks from the passenger seat and tried to make the vehicle a shade cleaner inside.
He looked at his watch and went up to his bedroom where he unearthed his only suit, a clean shirt & a tie; dressing up was not his scene, but this evening was one of those occasions when it was the right thing to do. Satisfied that he could look reasonably respectable, he ran a bath and started to get ready, remembering to check that the little packet of condoms was still in his wallet, ‘You never know’ he thought.
A mile across the valley, Pamela was also sitting in her bedroom, deep in thought. Her Mother had reminded her that the evening function was not a Hunt Ball and she shouldn’t dress too exotically. She opened the wardrobe and selected a silky black dress that was bare at the shoulders and decided her unexpected dance partner would appreciate it.
She drew a bath and stripped off, noticing to her complete surprise that her clean white panties now had a sticky white stain in a place she wasn’t expecting. She relaxed in the bath, her thoughts firmly on the earlier interlude in the top field. The difference between Tom and her usual male companions was easy to see; he was a handsome weather-beaten hard-working farmer – some five years her senior – and the others were wealthy younger men who invariably didn’t have to work for a living. She found the vast difference rather agreeable and decided that she was actually looking forward to the evening. Once dry, she did a little delicate shaving under each arm and stood naked in front of her mirror, blushing as she found herself wondering if Tom would appreciate that view. She chose a strapless black bra, a matching suspender belt and a pair of black silk French knickers to complete her outfit. Her make-up took a little longer than usual but she was ready ten minutes before she heard Tom’s Land Rover crunching over the gravel drive. Her parents had approved the fact that she was to be accompanied, but she decided she wouldn’t invite Tom in, in case he might be a bit overcome by the presence of her titled parents.
Tom’s knock was answered immediately by the door opening and he looked in awe at the girl who had agreed to come out with him.
“You look quite stunning,” he said, genuinely surprised at the transformation. Pamela gave a slight curtsy and smiled, “Can’t have you being ashamed of your partner in front of the whole village”
“No” he thought, “But they will wonder why I’m not arriving alone and setting my sights on someone who I’m certain will be more amenable to my frustrated needs”
With abject apologies about the state of the vehicle, Tom helped her into the Land Rover and they drove slowly to the Village Hall.
When they entered, Tom noticed the grins of some of the local lads as he escorted Pamela to a table. She suggested a vodka and tonic when he offered, and after going to the bar and receiving rude comments from friends, he returned with the glass & his own beer. Once the floor was fairly full of dancers & the group were playing a slow number, he asked her if she would like to join them. His dancing was far from elegant but he avoided standing on her toes and she enjoyed feeling him hold her tightly and lead properly.
They had another drink and when supper was served she declined his offer to get her food, stating that she was quite capable of queuing with everybody else. After eating and consuming the best part of a bottle of wine, they danced again and Pamela was able to show off her skill in the more modern dances, gyrating without inhibition and showing a fair bit of leg to the whole village as she executed spins that made Tom dizzy.
At eleven Tom suggested that she had more than fulfilled her duties and might like him to drive her home. Pamela agreed, if only because a fair number of the village lads were getting extremely drunk and the atmosphere was not as enjoyable as it had been earlier. They wended their way to the Land Rover and Tom headed for the Big House.
Pamela broke the silence, “That was a really enjoyable evening, thank you so much, my only complaint is that they never serve coffee at these ‘Do’s’
Tom thought quickly, “That I could offer you,” he suggested, realising that he could take the next turning and be at the farm in minutes.
“Offer accepted,” she said simply, and he headed for home, making pre-emptive apologies for his poor housekeeping and trying to remember what state the kitchen was in.
“I’m coming for coffee, not an Admirals Inspection” she chuckled, giving his knee a playful slap.
Tom parked outside the back door and they went into the kitchen that he found was tidier than he’d expected. He put on a kettle, “Cup or mug?”
“Oh, a mug would be fine – black with one sugar, please”
He made the coffee and took it over to where she was standing, admiring pictures of the local Hunt on the wall. He put the mugs on the table and explained that they were all from the days when her Grandfather had been Lord of the Manor.
She turned to get her coffee & stumbled, not realising he was immediately behind her. He put his arms out to stop her falling and suddenly her face was inches from his. The resultant kiss was a mutual decision and lasted quite a long time before she drew back, her face red & breathing hard. His arms were still round her waist, holding her close & he could feel every curve of her body from the shoulders to the hips. They kissed again and his hand stroked the bare skin down her back until it slid into the crease of her bottom and cupped the curve of one buttock.
She shivered, her hips thrusting forward sensuously, and one arm pulled his head down to kiss him again. When their lips parted she rested her head on his shoulder and whispered, “ There’s a zip at the back”
As soon as she’d said it she realised she had never encouraged a man like this before and her brain went into overdrive as she wondered whether the vodka had made her so blatant.
Tom located the zip easily and the dress fell to her waist; she moved back slightly and it was at her feet, revealing the strapless bra, French knickers and her black stockings.
Tom turned her round and pushed her back against the large oak kitchen table before standing back and admiring the full but sensual figure in front of him.
“That’s…. fantastic” he fumbled for the right words as he felt the stirring in his suit trousers.
Pamela reached to undo his tie and shirt buttons, “I think I must be a bit tipsy” she said
He held her hands, “Don’t you think it would be comfier in the sitting room?”
As she stepped out of her dress and bundled it onto the table, she felt she was detached from her body and was witnessing someone just like her doing something Lady Pamela would never have believed likely – and something she would have objected to.
He led her by the hand through the hall and sat her on a large settee in the lounge as he removed his shirt and bared his muscular sunburnt chest.
“What a manly chest” she said, admiring his body, “Come and sit down” she added, patting the sofa beside her.
He sat down and without any preliminaries, they embraced hungrily, his hand stroking the nylon on her thighs and causing her to shiver as she felt the telltale throbbing in her groin.
His hand snaked further along the firm flesh and found the lacy edge of the silk knickers. Involuntarily her thighs parted, allowing his fingers to slide under the thin silk and become the first man to touch the bushy mound beneath.
Pamela was experiencing sensations she had never felt before, and the fleeting worry that she should stop him was quickly countered by the realisation that up till now she had been missing something rather wantonly pleasurable. Tom took his hand away briefly and managed to push the bra up to reveal her firm breasts. Returning his hand to her mound, he bent his head and kissed the rigid nipple of the breast nearest him.
Pamela trembled as she sensed a humiliating little leak trickle between her thighs as his fingers probed the hairs covering her virginal lips. One finger entered the warm slit and slid back & forth gently in the creamy secretions as she started moaning, her hips lifting off the sofa to encourage him to enter further. Unintentionally, his other finger must have touched her sensitive clitoris, for she suddenly bucked violently, crying out as she lost control, her vaginal muscles pulsating and her juices pouring over his hand as she climaxed.
“Oh my God, something ever so weird has just happened … down there,” she said, pulling back with a mortified expression
“It doesn’t matter – they’re not rationed and you are allowed to have another one”
“You’ll have to move your hand” she gasped, “It’s so sensitive, I can’t bear it”
“Stop apologising. Just slow down …I can wait a minute” he whispered, “But only if you want me to go on”
His consideration allayed any fears she had and she put her hands to his face, gazing at him intently, “I do want you to – but it’ll be the first time and I might be a bit tense”
He looked down at her with an astonished expression, “You’re still a virgin?”
She grinned, “I’m afraid so – does that put you off?”
“No – but I’m so glad you’ve told me – and very privileged that I’ve been allowed to be the one you are giving it to” Tom pulled away and stood to reach into his wallet, unzipping & removing his trousers & pants to reveal his rigid erection.
“Oh my goodness” Pamela gasped, putting a hand to her mouth as she watched him roll on the condom, having only seen her Father naked before – and never in this state, “You’re huge”
Tom knelt between her open thighs and wriggled closer, resting the tip of the condom against her knickers as he sensed the musky aroma of high arousal. With one hand he prised the loose, soaking, silk aside and pushed very cautiously into the slippery cleft.
Regular horse riding since she was young had removed any worry that he would have difficulty in penetrating her, and soon he was deep inside the tight tunnel of her vagina, thrusting - gently at first, and then more firmly as she matched each movement with her hips & uttering throaty moans. Any worries about being tense disappeared as she began to feel the pressures building inside her again.
His arousal was intense and he knew he wouldn’t be able to make this a lengthy session. Happily, she was also feeling the mounting need for further release in every nerve of her body, and when he let out a loud ecstatic groan, she drowned the noise with a high pitched wail as her orgasm flooded over her and sucked him inside as his semen jetted into the safe confines of the condom.
They lay together, panting heavily and Pamela felt the exquisite aftershocks shooting though her body, guaranteeing that her appetite for sex had now been well & truly whetted.
Tom eased back and withdrew carefully, slipping off the condom and knotting it securely.
“There’s an awful lot of it” Pamela’s eyes widened as she saw how much he had pumped into the flimsy protective rubber.
“It’s been quite a while since it’s been active” Tom responded with a grin, “And now I’d better get you home, Miss Pamela” he added primly.
“You can’t really address me like that when I’m laying here in this wanton position” she chuckled, “I feel like a million dollars, you’ve given me the most wonderful present a man could give and I’m a very, very happy lady, although my knickers are all clammy & I’m not sure I can stand up!”
Tom helped her up and she grimaced as she adjusted the saturated knickers before he retrieved her dress from the kitchen.
“I’m afraid the coffee’s cold” he joked, “Would you like me to top it up?”
“Please – I think I need it”
He reheated the kettle and they sat in the kitchen drinking coffee and looking at each other with silly grins on their faces. When they’d finished, Tom drove her back to the house and kissed her hard before she got out.
“There is just one thing” Pamela said with a serious expression on her face, “If it’s all right with you, I think I’d like to make another visit to the farm – just to make sure that the Tenant is doing everything the Landlord wants”
“You only have to let me know, there’s plenty of things you haven’t seen yet,” he grinned, half seriously, before he drove off, assured that his immediate future physical needs would be provided by someone who seemed eager to learn more..
Pamela went in and crept upstairs.
“Did you have a good time?” came a voice from her parent’s bedroom.
“Yes, thank you, Mother” she replied with a smile as she closed her bedroom door.
The dress was hung up carefully and she stripped off her underwear, unable to resist holding the saturated knickers to her nose briefly before looking at herself in the mirror. ‘I don’t look any different’ she thought as she turned to climb into bed, ‘but I feel VERY different inside’. It was slowly beginning to dawn on her just what had happened and the more she re-lived the experience, the more fulfilled she felt – in fact, if she closed her eyes she could still envisage Tom’s immense erection and the thought caused tiny shivers to run though her - almost making her feel he was still inside her.
Naked, she lay down, guiltily putting a tentative hand on the place he had excited so much and her last thought as she drifted off was that she should now perhaps be addressed as the Dishonourable Miss Pamela. |
