The Fowler and His Net - Chapter 1 - Sex Stories

The Fowler and His Net - Chapter 1

... this meant and Tracey recognized his change in breathing. ‘oh, she were just fishing, the bloody hag, I weren’t born yesterday. I just said “oh aye”, right blank like. “he did say summat about that in’t pub”’.

‘Right.' said Gary, not exactly reassured.

‘Well we got talking ‘bout her. She used to clean up a't big hall when Mrs. Barton were a little lass yer see. She says she were a right sly one. Always sneaking around playing tricks. But get this though, right. She used to tell’t servants to do stuff, right, then, they’d refuse to do it because they only did what lady muck told them to do, like.'

Gary followed this gossip with interest. He was still reforming his plan of attack with regards to Samantha Barton. His prior conquests of wifely clients had been ridiculously easy, most involved invitations to the house for a tea or drink of wine, observations of body language, seductive approaches and final magnetic collisions. Such had been the case with soft spoken Mrs Flaherty just before Easter during a warm spell. She had wanted to gently massage him, using all of her professional skill, and feel the taut muscle fibres of his wonderfully proportioned body. But Gary had had different ideas and Mrs. Flaherty was left disconsolate and angry. He made sure that what he had taken was only from her bedroom, but he had managed to get a pretty sum for those trinkets from his city contacts. His old habits were too attractive to him.

‘Then, and this was when she was little ...

... mind, she’d like discuss it wiv’ em’ and the servants would like, find themselves doing what she wanted, without realizing it.' Tracey breathed out. 'Bloody weird. In’t it’

So? Gary thought. This little “bit” was going to be work. ‘Ah lass. She’s already halfway there. Was her idea for all’t tiling.'

‘Aye, but I’m just sayin,' maybe yer should, like, just leave this one eh?’

Gary snorted his contempt at this idea. ‘Bloody ‘ell. You are jealous!’ This accusation was rewarded by another slap on the chest and another derisory laugh from Gary.

‘She’s got a daughter, j’know that?’

‘Aye, she mentioned the fact.' That he had discovered the daughter to be just, if not more, appealing than the mother he thought best to hide.

‘That’s weird in’t it? Even that old bag Abel didn’t know till summer last year when they moved back in.'

‘Well, she’s been off at them posh schools hadn’t she? Since the Captain died.'

‘No, Mrs Abel says it ain’t his.'

‘But she wouldn’t know would she. Anyway does it matter?’ Gary dismissed the notion of any danger. In his brutish naivety all he saw was an opportunity for a bit of rewarding fun. His friable mind wandered again back to the Grange at the top of the hill and it’s two enticing occupants. He imagined servicing Samantha in his tried and tested way, with young Rachel watching, perky big tits perched on her young chest with her legs astride, satisfying herself with that stupid blank look on her face and waiting for her turn. ...