Genel

Poetic Seduction

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Emma had listened to ‘Moments of a Welsh Village’ by her favourite author a thousand times. Well, not actually voiced by him, but by a cast of actors and actresses. The leading voice was of the best narrator, in her opinion, that ever lived. She even had the DVD of the movie, with the same actor playing the leading role, though in her mind, she didn’t think it was as good as the hypnotic voices that echoed in her psyche.And here she was, in the very village it was written; to the home of her hero and poet. Emma was fortunate to pick up a copy of the manuscript from her local library before her journey, though as it turned out, every bookshop in the town had copies spilling out of the door.With a spring in her step, Emma hopped along the cobbled street and up the three steps into the Sailor’s Arms. She spoke briefly to Sarah, the barmaid and owner before ordering a pint of lager. A wry smile crept across her face as the clock on the wall indicated that it was eleven thirty. Picking up her pint she headed through an archway for ‘the snug’, passing the elderly gentleman in the chair with a half pint of Guinness and looking out of the window as if not seeing anything at all. Emma admitted to herself that she, unconsciously of course, sneaked a long peak at Sarah’s ample breasts. Hopefully, the early afternoon would not bring too many people into ‘the snug’ and she could get on with immersing herself in her book.Emma sat in the corner of ‘the snug’, took a sip of her lager and opened the book. As the famous words invaded her retina, they also echoed in her mind. She could feel the stillness settle around her as she read-‘And here we start, at the beginning. Where else…’The narrator’s voice permeated her senses. She couldn’t even read the text without hearing that voice, as his gentle tone added so much more to the words themselves. Emma put the book down, sipped her lager and repeated the words over and over in her head. A smile crossed Emma’s face; one that was associated with Sarah’s breasts. It has etlik escort been a long time, she thought.Emma read the first page but then began to thumb through the manuscript. She came across all those famous sentences; the ones that identified this text uniquely.‘A moment of your time please…’ Echoed in her head. Emma closed her eyes, and while holding the text in her left hand let her right wander up to her left nipple. She squeezed it, sighed and then started to flick through the book again.The words, ‘…the dreams of all those people in the waking moments…’ immediately placed her in the dreamy and sleepy realm of the people about to wake from their slumbering sleep.Emma wondered. She wondered what they would be up to. Her fingers pinched her nipple through her shirt once more before the words that introduced Mrs. Evans rang out in her mind.“Mrs. Evans. Rosalind Evans. Opens her doors to the whole of mankind…’Yes, Rosalind Evans. Emma wondered whether, in those times, Rosalind was a slut or a good time girl. She imagined all sorts of action that was openly given to the sailors of the time, for a little reward, of course. Rosalind’s open arms and legs, welcoming the men for some quick action as they shipwrecked themselves between her thighs. Emma wondered how many babies she had.Her attention suddenly transferred to Miss Melissa Owens the sweetshop keeper, as she flicked through a few more pages. Emma thought of Melissa Owens as a voluptuous busty woman dreaming of her lover Morgan Thomas. She remembered the phrase well and the tone in which it was conveyed.‘His eyes, wide as an owl, floated silently over her lonely-sleepy body…’Emma closed her eyes and rested the book on the table, her right hand snaked over her thighs as she lifted them onto the bench. Her hand pressed against her breast as she remembered Melissa Owens from the text and the landlady, Sarah. Emma smiled, gritted her teeth and let all the sexy thoughts flow through her. Her hand and her finger came keçiören escort down on her mound and she pressed eagerly inwards.As Emma teased apart her pussy lips; still covered by her crinkled skirt and knickers, she uttered the words.‘Yes, Morgan, take me now, be mine…’It wasn’t the true intention of the phrase but it made Emma feel much better to think it was sexual in nature. Her finger would have almost disappeared inside her hot cunt, if it wasn’t for the elasticity of her tight knickers. Her knickers would have to go soon, thought Emma, there are far worst passages in this manuscript than that of Melissa Owens.Emma flicked over a good few pages until she settled on Bevie Richards; always taunting the boys to kiss her before she pulled away. Was that all it took in those days, thought Emma, smirking, a tilt of the head and pursed lips. Tipping her head back, she wondered if Bevie ever kissed a girl or whether Bevie would kiss her given the chance. She hoped she would. Her lips extended as if to kiss Bevie Richards, right there, in ‘the snug’. She closed her eyes as she kissed the cool air.Emma’s brown eyes flung wide open as she remembered where she was. She looked around, wary that someone was watching her, but the fact that no-one had caught her daydreaming sexy thoughts was a relief. Emma took a large gulp of her lager and continued reading the pages.Emma stopped once more, this time reading about Emily Davies, the young schoolteacher. Emma wondered what kind of nymphet she really was. The text made Emily out to be a real tease more than a nymphomaniac; though there were many men interested in her svelte figure. Indeed, Emma would have been interested in her as well, purely from the erotic perspective of course; nothing to do with getting her fingers wet from the leaking fluids that would flood from her groin.Emma started to feel herself. She was getting wet, and decided that it was better to keep her knickers dry. She lifted her skirt and pulled her knickers kızılay escort to one side, positioning them so that they could not get in the way anytime soon. She took a squig of lager and thumbed the book with her left hand. Her right hand slipped up her skirt in anticipation.“Oh, fuck yes,” cried Emma, remembering that Mr Jones always got spanked every night of his married life. Her finger penetrated her, but what she really wanted, right there, was a hard hand on her bottom, preferably the one belonging to Mrs. Jones. Yes, Mrs. Jones would surely spank her hard.Emma recited the words in her head. She didn’t really need a book. Mrs. Jones was a fastidious and precise old woman. She ran a small hotel that didn’t take on any customers, because, as she put it, ‘I don’t want people dirtying my clean rooms, with muddy feet and greasy fingertips. Not to mention the mess they leave on the bedclothes….’To Emma, she couldn’t have made any money at all. But, because of her strictness and regimental preciseness, Emma could imagine Mrs. Jones dishing out a hard and pleasurable spanking. Emma envisaged herself on all fours on one of Mrs. Jones’s clean beds, her knickers around her ankles and her skirt up around her waist, waiting for…Yes, waiting for the hand to contact her bare bottom and thrill her to her very core; only for the hand to be raised, and lowered several more times.Emma’s finger flicked at her clit as she remembered how nice that sensation was. At least it was with her last lover, the one that left her for another woman only four months ago; the bitch, thought Emma. She opened her eyes to gaze around ‘the snug’, but no-one was there and her attention was, once more, back on her pussy. Emma stroked herself, leaving the wetness to lubricate her fingers as they searched ever inwards. The book lay in her hand that rested on the table, next to her lager.She was nearly there. Her orgasm was blossoming and yet. Emma pulled the book upwards and concentrated on the words. She rested the book on her left thigh and flicked through the pages. She knew where she wanted to end up. She could hear the words in her head. Words from the song rang out loud and clear.‘Not one, but two, and I look forward to three…’That was the same song that rang out from between Suzy Phillips’s lips.

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