In Yorkshire. England. In the summer of 2014.

Emma’s first time.

It was Emma’s 18th Birthday. The sun shone in a clear blue sky. Birds sang. Not a breath of wind. The heat was stifling, especially as we don’t usually get hot days here in Yorkshire.There was a big marquee on the manor lawn. The rock band were doing sound checks.

I was in a foul mood. I bought the wrong parts for my car. I had to take them back. On my bicycle, 18 miles there and 18 back. I was hot sweaty and thoroughly fed up.

I was half under the car, stripped to the waist trying to change my cam belt when Lord H, swept past in his Bentley. He stopped. Reversed back. “I say Hansen, put a shirt on, you’ll frighten the damn horses!”

It wasn’t the horses, it was his daughter Emma he was worried about. We lived on his estate. My dad worked for him. We lived in one of his cottages. Emma and I were almost the same age, the same school year, I’m six months older. We used to be friends, until he sent her to boarding school and I went to the local state school. Horten in Wharfedale Comprehensive.

“Yes my Lord. Of course my Lord,” I said ‘Three bags full my lord,” I muttered.

He was a loathsome cretin, I really hated him. Short arsed little runt. He was on wife number three. Rumour had it he liked to watch his wives having group sex with well hung black guys. Personally I always suspected he was gay, well all English public schools have buggery after lights out as a compulsory subject don’t they?

Emma was gorgeous. Honey blonde hair. Blue eyes. Hour glass figure. Today she had it squeezed into a top two sizes too small and shrink fit cut off jeans. She had already been round to laugh at me as I worked on my rather gaudy brilliant yellow MG car.

I didn’t have an invitation to her party. It didn’t worry me I would go anyway. Acquire some booze. Check out the talent. See if any of Emma’s girl friends fancied slumming it. A bit of rough. Hence the no shirt in the hot sun routine to get a decent tan.

I got my cam belt on and did battle with the belt cover fixing bolts. Bare arms smeared with oil. Sweating profusely I battled on until I had used all the bolts up. I finished up. The engine ran. I had my freedom back.

“It goes then?” my father enquired.

“Seems like it,” I agreed. “I’ll get cleaned up.”

I took a shower and wandered up to the manor, caterers were scuttling around, a boy band was doing a sound check and a group of very fit black guys were chatting around the back of the marquee.

“How do,” I said in my best village idiot voice, “Whats going off then lads?”

“Thought it was a five thirty, turns out it’s a nine thirty,” one of them said.

“Dancers, Strippers?” I asked.

“Yeah something like that, do you want to do one before you really annoy us?”
he suggested.

“Have a nice day,” I said, ‘Just the one then die’ I muttered.

“Hansen,” Lord H called when he saw me, “Bugger off there’s a good chap, invitation only, don’t want riff raff gate crashing.”

“Just offering to help,” I explained, “I’ll get off home then.”

I came back later. Round the fields. Over the back wall.

The party was in full swing. You could hear the band five miles away. Booze flowed. Emma looked a million dollars. I was chatting to Katherine and Patricia who were Emma’s friends from uni. Nice enough girls but difficult to separate and threesomes really are not my thing.

The sound system boomed.
“Well good evening ladies and gentlemen boys and girls,” Lord H’s slightly drunken voice boomed out. “I can hardly believe that eighteen years ago today my beautiful daughter Emma was born, When I first saw he I knew.” he said, “My darling wife Kate, second wife that is, come up here Kate!”

His very glamorous second wife Kate climbed on stage to raucous cheers, an older version of Emma, more older sister than mum, “Big hand for Kate everybody,” he shouted.

“When I first saw Emma in Kate’s arms I knew, I knew ladies and gentlemen, I knew she wasn’t mine!” There was a stunned silence.

“Daddy!” Emma cried. I quietly stood up and made my way towards the stage.

“Don’t you daddy me,” Lord H snapped, “You’re not my daughter. You are just a Cuckoo in the nest. You are nothing to me. Nothing do you hear!”

“No!” Emma protested.

“She cost me a small fortune, Ladies and Gentlemen. Ponies. private school, clothes, foreign holidays,” he continued, “But enough is enough, one final present and then if you want to stay here you can earn your keep.”

“Oh yes,” he continued his voice booming over the PA system, “Your diary is very illuminating. 11th of May. It says. ‘I want to be fucked in all my holes by five fit black guys.’ That’s what you wrote. So my darling here is your birthday present, five fit black guys!”

He indicated five very shocked and embarrassed ebony skinned dancers.

I walked up to the stage and hit him. Smack on the point of the jaw. There was a snapping sound as his jaw broke. It was one of the most satisfying feelings I have ever experienced. It hurt like hell and I thought I had broken several fingers but it was worth it.

“Geoffrey!” Emma exclaimed. I grabbed her and threw her over my shoulder cave man style.

I carried her across the Marquee, “Start playing,” I told the band leader. “For he’s a jolly good fellow!” I ranted and I stormed out of the marquee.

The Band struck up with “Perfect Day.”

“Geoffrey put me down!” Emma screeched.

“No way, I’m not letting you near that drunken fool till he sobers up,” I insisted.

“But five black guys Geoffrey, for my first time please!” she pleaded.

“You’re a virgin?” I gasped.

“Afraid so,” she admitted, “But just imagine five big black cocks!”

“Sounds horrific!” I admitted.

“Put me down!” she protested again.

I put her down carefully on the grass, but not before we were a hundred yards or more from the marquee on a wide grassy path leading towards the church.

“I suppose you’re an expert on doing it?” she teased, “How many big black cocks have you had.”

“None!” I protested.

“And hundreds of girls?” she continued.

“Not exactly,” I admitted.

“How many?” she demanded.

“Not many,” I admitted.

“Geoffrey, are you a virgin too?” she demanded.

“More or less,” I admitted.

“Oh that’s so sweet!” so sighed.

We could hear people searching for us in the car park.

“Geoffrey, do you want to fuck me?” Emma asked.

“Yes please,” I replied politely.

“Then pretend to be five black men,” she suggested and she kissed me.

I kissed her, I expected to smell alcohol on her breath but her lips tasted of fruit juice.

I put my hand on her leg. I lifted up her short black party dress. Eased my fingers inside her tiny white lace panties. Eased my finger into her soft moist vagina.

“Yes,” she said urgently, “Do it!”

I pulled her panties aside and dropped my trousers. My cock reared like some primeval monster, the veins standing out prominently as he strained.

“Oh gosh, its huge!” she complained.

“I thought you wanted five big black cocks?” I reminded her.

“Er,” she said rather too honestly, “I rather thought yours would be sort of medium, er start small and work up?”

“It is medium, it’s just that you turn me on!” I countered.

“Oh Geoffrey you say the sweetest things,” she said as she grabbed my cheeks and kissed me on the lips.

I held her tight and kissed her. Everything sort of dissolved around us. The noise of the party. The sounds of the search. Nothing mattered except Emma and I. I kissed her nose and forehead and then raised myself up and eased my cock between the soft pink lips of her vagina.

It was heavenly to feel her soft warm flesh envelope my shaft. I eased in and out quite gently before beginning to hump against her quite vigorously as she pulled against my buttocks urging me to press ever harder.

It felt wonderful. An extension of how we played as children yet so much more intense and yet it felt so right.

“Yes. Yes. Yes!” she gasped, “Ohhhh Geoffrey,” and I started pumping my love juice deep inside her.

“There they are !” someone shouted and before we could react we had an audience.

Emma’s mother Kate was among the group.

“Emma you slut!” Kate laughed as she arrived, “Well done!”

“Mummy?” she queried.

“Well he is quite a hunk, and well hung!” she laughed. “And that punch. That was absolutely brilliant. I so wanted to do that!”

“Er how is he?” I asked.

“Still a nasty vindictive little prick,” she said.

“And his jaw?” I asked.

“I’m afraid you have mistaken me for someone who cares,” she said. “But Emma, how long have you two been an item!”

“We aren’t mummy,” Emma said, “It was our first time.”

“Well well well,” Kate sighed, “I find that hard to believe. You looked so perfect together, anyway you can come and live with me. Both of you that is, if po face continues to be awkward and doesn’t apologise.”

I didn’t know how to respond. We just lay locked together as my cock shrank.

“Pull your trousers up Geoffrey you’ll frighten the horses,” Kate added as I tried to hide my manhood. “If only I was six months younger and you hadn’t seen him first…”

“Sorry,” I said nervously as I pulled my trousers up.

“She’ll break your heart,” Kate added. “Fluffy little kittens tend to grow into man eating Cougars I’m afraid.”

“Oh?” I queried.

“And dashing young playboys grow into boring old farts,” she added very wisely, “So what are you Geoffrey?”

“Out of my depth probably.” I suggested.

“Quite possibly.” Kate agreed.

“Mummy,” Emma sighed, “How do you know?”

“Because I was like you once.” she admitted. “She’s very much like me Geoffrey.”

“Well Geoffrey is not like Daddy.” Emma said very wisely.

“And thank god for that,” Kate agreed. “Back to the tent everyone!”

We were alone, “Geoffrey, did you like having sex with me?” Emma asked hopefully.

“Yes, it was great,” I agreed.

“There are all these different positions and everything?” she said, “Do you want to try them out with me?”

“Sounds good to me,” I agreed, “When?”

“How long does it take to get hard again,” she giggled.

To be continued.

Pulled and re posted due to inappropriate troll comments

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