Village Tale
Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Lesbian, Heterosexual, Humor, Oral Sex, Voyeurism,

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A Young Girl learns a lot from her former gym mistress.


Gerald had not had a happy week. Thank Heaven Saturday was here at last! He wandered over to his bedroom window and looked out lazily over his large garden, a garden resplendent in the early summer sun. It could not be said that those trim borders and perfectly manicured lawns were his own handiwork. He was far too busy (and impractical) for that. But the gardener had made a splendid job of putting his, Gerald's, vision into effect. It looked exactly as he had pictured it two years ago when he first moved into the house of his late aunt, whose sole beneficiary he had been. He sighed happily.

Then something happened and he gasped, shaken out of his daydreams. His beloved long-haired white cat, Samantha, jumped silently onto the window ledge beside him and rubbed her purring litheness against his side.

"I wish you wouldn't creep up on me like that!" he said. But he stroked her affectionately all the same, grateful as ever for her companionship. Dear Samantha. It was good that she was around, for a change!

And that was part of the problem with Samantha. She was not around half as much as he would like. In the last few months she had been increasingly absent from this large house that they shared. She had once been gone for three days and he had begun to despair of seeing her again when she reappeared, as affectionate as ever, and acting as though nothing had happened.

He picked her up and held her against his face, rubbing his cheek into her soft fur. She purred happily, but Gerald sensed that the cat's attention was not focused entirely on him. She was looking out of the window, as if expecting to see something. He looked and saw nothing at first. And then a ladder appeared in the garden of the house on the other side of his garden wall. Gerald put Samantha back on the window-sill and watched as the ladder moved towards the neighbouring house. He gasped in astonishment as the person holding the ladder came into view. It was She! Or was it Her? He thought a moment or two and decided that it was, grammatically, She. So She lived next door and he had never realised.

Gerald had only met Her once. She had accidentally trodden on his foot as they pased each other in the County Stores in the local market town. He had apologised profusely, despite being the injured party and She had smilingly told him it was entirely Her fault!

Since then he had seen Her coming an going a half dozen or so times, but he doubted that She had seen him. It was usually at the weekend in the town that he spied Her and he had begun to live for the times he saw Her. One day they had been sitting a couple of rows away at a concert in St Mary's church and She had been with an older woman. At least She wasn't with a man, he had thought. Although how such a total wet blanket - afraid of his own shadow - as he was ever going to have either the wit or the nerve to make contact with this unapproachable beauty was beyond him. Once again it looked as though he was going to have to worship yet another goddess from a safe distance!

Gerald was an excellent archivist, in charge of a whole Department, but he was not much of a Man of Action in the Real World. In fact he loathed the Real World. When not at work he was happy to potter around his house, sit reading in his lovely garden and stroke Samantha. Two weeks a year he would spend in Italy, immersing himself in Renaissance art and architecture while Samantha languished in a cattery. Sometimes he reflected that it really wasn't much of a life for a man of thirty five.

And now, She was there not a hundred yards away, climbing up a ladder and looking none too steady as She tried to reach an open widow in Her attic. She must, obviously, have got Herself locked out of Her own home! Poor girl. And another thing struck Gerald as remarkable and somewhat unexpected. She was not wearing a stitch of clothing!

It soon became apparent that the Young Lady's attempt to gain entry had started to go wrong - badly wrong. The ladder moved sharply and She froze, obviously terrified to move either up or down. A faint cry could be heard. And then Gerald felt a sharp pain in his hand. Samantha had bitten him!

Bitten him! The sweet and gentle Samantha? That paragon of feline virtue? The cat that all his friends commented on so favourably, telling him how lucky he was to possess such a loving animal, when most cats were wild and unpredictable creatures, as likely to scratch and hiss as they were to purr? What was happening today?

He looked down at the cat and saw a look on that usually impassive face that shocked him. It was the most eloquent expression he had ever seen on any quadruped! It was a mixture of anger, pleading, disappointment and contempt.

"Can't you see that you must Act?" Samantha seemed to be saying. "So much depends on your Acting in a Decisive Manner for once in your useless life! Go and rescue Her, you wimp!"

Another and more painful bite from the strangely agitated Samantha caused Gerald to do something very unusual for him - unique, even. He acted in the decisive manner demanded by the occasion. The wall was not too high for him to climb, he decided. And it was a very long way to go around to the front of Her house by more conventional means. By the time he had gone around that way, She might have fallen with consequences for Her fair and delicate frame that were too ghastly to contemplate.

As he stepped out into his garden Gerald saw a piece of material lying on the ground. It was a bikini top! He absentmindedly picked it up and stuffed it into his pocket.

"I wonder how that got there?" he thought, as he ran to the wall and climbed up and over.


Frieda Antonia Feathersonhaugh (pronounced "Fanshawe"), was a singularly lovely young woman. She had always been that way, right from day one.

"What a lovely baby, Mrs Fanshawe!" her mother had early on been informed by the other ladies of her acquaintance. And the other ladies had been right.

"What a sweet little girl!" they had enthused as the babe developed into a golden haired child. And they had been right!

"But that wonderful fair hair will darken in a few years! Such a pity!"

But here they were wrong. Very wrong. Just about as wrong as any one could be!

Frieda's hair was as fair and golden now as it had ever been. And she was twenty one.

Whenever she looked at those glorious tresses in the mirror she was, in her excusable vanity, reminded of a verse from one of the Psalms.

"Sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb. More to be desired are they than gold. Yea, than much fine gold."

Miss Roberts, Frieda's Gym Mistress at St Hilda's Academy for Genteel Young Ladies, had hungrily slavered over Frieda's burgeoning womanhood when our heroine had been one of her pupils. Lusting Miss Roberts had watched Frieda develop into, by mouth wateringly exciting degrees, a Big Girl and in All the Right Places. Miss Roberts, consumed by frenzied desire, had endured many sleepless nights as she angrily and uselessly railed against the gross injustice of a system which denied hard working and dedicated educators the right to seduce and ravish such sweet young things. But Miss Roberts valued her job and the fat pension at the end of it. Miss Roberts was a practical woman. She had to be satisfied with other things.

But Miss Roberts never forgot the delectable Frieda, or altogether abandoned hope of Attaining the Object of her Lustful Desires! We are all of us allowed to Dream, are we not?

Virginally innocent Frieda might not have noticed Miss Roberts's admiration. She might have been blissfully unaware of the older woman's yearning for her sweet young body, but the other girls did notice. One of them, a girl of whom it would have been a great and mendacious understatement to call "plain", was a fervent admirer of Miss Roberts. Ethelberta Harrison, niece of the Prime Minister and cousin of the Secretary of Sate for the Environment (whom she greatly resembled), would have given twenty years of her life for just five wonderful minutes with the athletic Miss Roberts. But Miss Roberts, blinded by lust, had eyes only for the unattainable and golden haired Frieda!

"You cow!" snarled the angry Ethelberta, one day in Summer. " I hate you, you bitch!"

"Why, darling Ethelberta?" simpered the startled Frieda. "What have I ever done to upset you?"

Frieda's lip quivered as she said this and her voice faltered.

"Miss Roberts loves you!" hissed the furious Ethelberta.

"Miss Roberts? Are you joking or what? She's just the gym mistress, Ethelberta. Just a teacher. She's just someone my Mummy and Daddy pay to educate me - just a common servant, really. She doesn't love me!... Does she? Golly, how utterly gross!"

"Oh! What a total arsehole you are, Frieda! Get with it, Frieda! Of course she loves you! She's a dyke, like me, and you are the purest piece of sugar on two legs this school has seen in fifty years! And I'm going to fight you for her. Put 'em up, Frieda! Let's see what you're made of!"

"But I like you, Ethelberta. I don't want to fight you and I don't know how to fight. I go to Japanese literature classes, not martial arts like you. Please don't make me fight you! Please, Ethelberta!"

But Ethelberta was too enraged by jealousy! She knocked Frieda to the ground in front of a horrified mistress. (Not Miss Roberts).

Ethelberta was expelled the next day, after being given a severe caning, and Frieda enjoyed a happy time for the rest of her days at St Hilda's. The pure young maiden was still innocently unaware of Miss Roberts's continuing and ever increasing determination to possess and ravish her sweet young body.

Frieda and her friends would never know that Miss Roberts had a spy hole allowing her to see into the showers. Never did Frieda stand naked under the floods of hot water without a trembling Miss Roberts watching as the silvery rivulets cascaded over her adolescent firmness.

And finally Frieda left school, a year or two earlier than most. She was a clever girl and went up to Cambridge aged a mere sixteen to pursue the study of Oriental Languages. She secured a First after only two years. All her fellow students averred to the end of their days that they had never known a girl who had less interest in Life! But everybody loved her. She had not a single enemy all the time she was there!

And then came a Very Traumatic Experience involving Nudity.


Frieda was twenty one when she acquired Max. It happened a few months before she met Miss Roberts (for the first time since leaving school) and shortly after leaving Howard so spectacularly.

Howard was a young man, Miss Roberts was a thirty something gym mistress with a toned and magnificent body and a lust for Frieda's virginal purity. Max was a King Charles Spaniel. Of the three, Frieda was to come to prefer Max by far. Max was no trouble at all!

Howard seemed pretty promising to start with. Frieda met him at work. She had a job now that she had completed her education. Her knowledge of Japanese language and literature was being put to practical use. Frieda was a writer/translator.

Sadly for Frieda, her knowledge of Nipponese high culture was not what her employers were looking for. Frieda had soon discovered that life in the real world was a mundane and boring affair! She spent her time translating instruction manuals from Japanese into acceptable and comprehensible English. She readily admitted that her work was necessary and useful in a world whose household goods were mostly of Far Eastern manufacture. Thanks to her excellent work, many electronic devices found their way into the homes of hoi polloi furnished with instructions of such comprehensive accuracy and crystal clarity that only an idiot would come to grief after reading them (Plenty of idiots did come to spectacular and even fatal grief, but please, don't blame Frieda!)

One advantage of having such a boring job - Frieda was not by nature a technologically inclined young lady - was that she understood how to service, assemble, dissemble, reassemble and repair pretty well every household appliance in existence. Not only did she translate the user's instructions leaflets, but also the more complex manuals for service engineers. There were times when she considered going into business as a repair and maintenance engineer, but the thought of acquiring the formal qualifications she would need deterred her.

Howard was a Graduate Trainee at the same company. He was a tall young man a few years older than Frieda. They went out a few times to social events and one night Frieda invited him back to her flat just for a Coffee (She seriously meant it, too!)

There she experienced, for the first time, the Act of Love. And jolly nice it was, she decided! Howard was over the moon about his conquest. To have actually found and deflowered a real genuine virgin who was well over the age of consent - in this day and age - was no mean feat and he boasted of it for weeks.

Three weeks after her initiation into womanhood she was invited by Howard to go for a drive down to the coast where he promised her an idyllic day on a sandy beach, side by side with the Man of Her Dreams and with a hamper containing chilled sparkling wine and a variety of mouth watering snacks to sustain them through the day.

Frieda was not to know that Howard had in mind to repeat his manly entry into Frieda's womanhood, this time in the open air and under the benign eye of the summer sun. She would have found this delightful enough had the couple been able to find a private and secluded spot. But a Shock was in store!

When they had parked the car and walked a half mile to the beach, Frieda was struck by something odd about the bathers lying at roughly two yard intervals all along the beach. On the downward scramble she was too busy getting down to the golden strand to notice more than the precipitous nature of the descent. Once on the beach, though, she noticed that many of the people were naked. Howard - fiend that he was - had brought her to a Nudist Beach!

Poor Frieda had never known such fear and embarrassment before. What was she to do?

She extracted herself from the Beach Horror with surprising ease. For a while she was incapable of action, being stunned at what she was seeing. In all directions lay people of all shapes and sizes and most age groups not one of whom was wearing anything at all.

Families were there, Mothers and Fathers allowing their sweet young children to see them in all their Nakedness! She was speechless for a while as Howard led her to a spot where there was room for them both to lie down and spread their picnic blanket on the sand.

She watched as Howard undressed, exposing his Manly Parts to the gaze of all and sundry. Not that All and Sundry seemed all that interested, which was odd because Howard's Manly Parts were remarkable, or so Frieda thought. She looked up and down the beach and Howard's Manly Parts seemed more remarkable than ever!

"Come on, Freddy!" said Howard as he noticed his girlfriend's seeming reluctance to follow suit and bare her Heavenly Beauty to the elements. "You know you want to!"

But a horrified Frieda knew nothing of the sort. This was such a disappointment. Howard had made love to her only weeks ago in the privacy of her own apartment and this had been such a wonderful experience, not least because of its privacy. It had been something for just the two of them, two young people in love and hidden from the world. But THIS, this public sharing of their bodies with a Vulgar Multitude, was horrible - quite Horrible.

"Want to do what, you pervert! Strip off in front of all these people? You must be joking! PERVERT!" She was screaming in a way that surprised herself.

Then she looked around at the masses of innocent naturists and pointed in their general direction. Her voice became a few decibels louder.

"PERVERTS! That's what you are! Perverts! You should all be arrested."

She was in danger of becoming hysterical, but just as her terrifying fury was about to consume her she became calm. She saw the car keys, lying on the picnic blanket. She bent down and seized them and ran from the scene. In minutes she was in the car and driving back to London, a sad and disillusioned lady. Howard, needing to dress before he could pursue the fleeing Frieda, arrived at the car park just in time to see his BMW and with it his Frieda becoming a mere speck in the distance.

She never did find out how he made it back home and she never really cared. He came around to collect his car next day and was subjected to a tirade of unladylike abuse, most inappropriate coming from the lips of a gentle maiden who had been expensively educated at a Very Good School. Not that Frieda was a maiden any longer, of course. But she remained virginal in spirit if not in fact.

So that was the end of Howard. Shortly after this contretemps Frieda decided to avoid the office as much as possible and work from home, only coming up to London a couple of times a month for meetings, through which she mostly daydreamed or slept. The Japanese technical manuals arrived by post and Frieda sat in her drawing room and translated them. She had moved to a village a few miles from the county town and rented a house for a year, with the option of an indefinite extension if she wanted it. She loved it there and had never been so happy - although it was a little lonely sometimes.

Then Max arrived.

It was Frieda who called him Max. After months of boring translation, naming her newly acquired dog was the first truly creative act in a very long while. It was surprisingly easy, really. She just looked at the little fellow and said "Hi, Max!" Simple as that. Such is the way with the creative process. Such is the nature of genius!

As I may have mentioned in an earlier chapter, Frieda had acquired a considerable amount of expertise when it came to servicing and maintaining electronic equipment. She could fix any problems in her own household and one day was able to put her friend Tracy's television to rights. Tracy was impressed. Impressed and very grateful.

I said that Tracy was Frieda's friend. This is not entirely accurate. She was more of the nature of a home help -a stout lady of twenty five, who needed a bit of work in order to provide for two children, the result of separate indiscretions with two men, one Indian and one West Indian. Tracy was no bigot! Frieda admired her for that, and for the thoroughness with which she kept her house tidy. Some weeks after hiring her, Frieda lost Tracy's services for eighteen months when that lady was convicted of various offences, ranging from shoplifting to trading in illegal substances, and her two little darlings taken into care.

Max was a direct result of Tracy's gratitude. Tracy talked a lot and Frieda's skills with household appliances soon became well known among her friends on the run down estate where she dwelt. One way and another Frieda began to help out a number of Tracy's friends and Max was payment for one of her jobs. A little while after acquiring Max, an interview with a truculent and aggrieved Service Engineer whose trade was being adversely affected by Frieda's freelancing, persuaded her to stick to her writing in future. I'm not saying that the man was threatening, but Frieda decided it was better to be safe than sorry.

Max was a darling little creature right from the start. His house-training was incredibly easy and soon Frieda was taking the growing little fellow for walks, always careful to dispose of any canine solid wastes by popping them into a plastic bag. Frieda was a Responsible Citizen and knew her Social Duties. Would that there were more like her!

She was taking Max shopping one Friday and had just come out of Debenhams when a well remembered voice hailed her.

Miss Roberts

"Why! If it isn't Frieda! My best ever pupil and looking as straight and slim as ever. How are you, Frieda! It's been so long!"

It was Miss Roberts! Her old gym mistress. What a lovely surprise thought Frieda, who was a little lonely since Tracy had been sent to prison and her extra curricular activities had been curtailed after representations from disgruntled tradesmen.

"Why it's Miss Roberts. How lovely to see you! I haven't really kept in touch with anyone from St Hilda's this last couple of years. What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"I'm visiting a sick sister, Frieda. Sadly, she doesn't have long left and hardly recognises me, she's so terribly ill. It's all a bit hard to bear, I'm afraid. We've always been close and it breaks my heart to see her like this."

Frieda looked appropriately sympathetic and made what she hoped were the right kind of commiserative noises. Miss Roberts dabbed at an eye and sniffed.

"Why don't we go and get a coffee?" said Frieda. "As long as we can find somewhere that welcomes this little monster!"

Max wagged his tail happily at hearing himself referred to and Miss Roberts bent down and stroked him. Max looked happy at having made a new friend - almost as happy as Frieda at having met an old one again!

Frieda so enjoyed hearing all the latest news from St Hilda's that she invited Miss Roberts round for dinner that very same night. The alacrity with which her former teacher accepted might have sounded warning bells to a more suspicious person than the open and generous Frieda with all her wide-eyed innocence (except where Men were concerned - after Howard!)

After a simple but very ample meal, Frieda began to tell Miss Roberts - or Dolores, as that good lady was named- all about her own activities since getting her First in Oriental Languages. Miss Roberts smiled as she told of her experiences with Howard, especially the trip to the seaside.

"Great Hampton Cove! I know it well, my dear Frieda. It is surprising I did not see you there! I love the place, although I agree it is tiresomely crowded at the weekend and most visitors never explore right up to the headland beyond which one can be quite alone - or pretty well alone. The nearest other person tends to be a hundred yards away at least!"

"You mean you are a nudist! YOU!"

"It's not that big a deal, darling Frieda! You'd be amazed! If you'd spoken to a cross section of the other occupants of the beach on that day, you'd have found they were all highly respectable. And I very much doubt that Howard would have tried to make love to you in front of so many others! Naturists are surprisingly prudish! You'd just have had a picnic, a swim and a nice all over tan! You silly goose!"

Miss Roberts laughed in a friendly way. Frieda might have been worried. But Miss Roberts represented order and authority. She stood for all that was secure and safe. Frieda felt herself relax, aided by the Tesco's Own Brand Claret which the pair had drunk with the roast beef.

"It's just that my parents never used to let me see them naked. And at that beach were whole families in the altogether. I was shocked. I doubt I could ever have relaxed and enjoyed my picnic with Howard."

"It's awfully hot in here, Frieda! Do you mind if I slip my blouse off for a while?"

"Not at all, Dolores! Be my guest."

Soon the pair were relaxing on Frieda's sofa. She stole a glance at her companion's bare arms and shoulders, richly tanned ( she must have been to somewhere a lot warmer than England in the last weeks) and excitingly muscular. Miss Roberts was still a very fit woman! If only I had a suntan like that, thought the envious Frieda!

"You're wonderfully brown, Dolores! I can't remember when I last had a tan of any kind, let alone an all over one! Do you mean to say you are that colour all over - every single last square millimetre of you?"

"Would you like to see it, Frieda? My all over suntan?"

Frieda nodded enthusiastically. Why not, after all? If it made the poor woman happy. After all, her sister was dying! Soon Miss Roberts stood before her. My word! But she certainly did look magnificent! There just was not a single spare ounce of flab on all that perfect body! Only the somewhate leather skin texture betrayed the fact that Dolores was no longer all that young. The gym mistress did a swift pirouette and let Frieda see her from all angles. Then she did a few quick bends and stretches to show Frieda how her long limbs had lost none of their lithe suppleness over the years.

Within a few minutes she and Frieda, both nude, were in bed together and Frieda was being educated in the Mysteries of Another Kind of Love! It was almost as jolly as being Penetrated by Howard! Max slept on the bed, thinking how lucky he was to have two friends now!

Miss Roberts's sister made a remarkable recovery a couple of weeks after Frieda and her ex-mistress had made love for the first time. The first of many! In another week she was well enough to leave hospital and Dolores took her back home with her, leaving Frieda and Max alone again after a Very Interesting Time for Frieda, whose knowledge of bizarre and kinky sexual activities had progressed in Leaps and Bounds while Miss Roberts had been her house guest.

When Dolores had first pushed her head between the tender Frieda's wide open thighs and inserted her probing, stimulating tongue into her sweet smelling tunnel of delight, Frieda had never imagined she would soon be returning the favour and loving every second of it. As Miss Roberts finally took her leave, she pronounced Frieda to be a gifted lover with natural talent and great powers of invention. Frieda, who had always been anxious to please, was flattered. She felt much the same about Miss Roberts!

"You're a real expert now, darling Frieda! That sweet little tongue has had me in Heaven. How my clitoris and I will miss you!" And with those romantic words she and her sister were gone. Frieda was left to ponder her future now that she was alone with the adoring and adorable Max. Dolores had left a gap in Frieda's life!

Each morning the pair had gone for a run. Frieda was a keen jogger in any case, but Miss Roberts was a veritable demon for hard, prolonged, challenging exercise. On their morning sessions Dolores had worn brief shorts and a sports bra. She had looked every inch the Serious Athleste! At first, Frieda had worn her tracksuit but Dolores had not approved of Frieda's attire, telling her that she must allow the air to get to her bare skin and leave her limbs free of restrictive clothing if she were to derive full benefit from the exercise. And Dolores, whose life had been devoted to physical education, ought to know! So a visit to the town Sports Shop had resulted in Frieda being kitted out with the same kind of aerodynamic and exiguously well ventilated gear as her mentor, except that instead of brief shorts, Frieda sported a pair of tiny body hugging briefs. She had gasped when ordered to buy this last item, but recollected that the women competitors at the recent Olympics had worn much the same - although perhaps not quite as revealing where the hind quarters were concerned!

The lustful Dolores gloried in the sight of those long flashing thighs, rhythmically working beside her as the pair ate up the miles in the chill morning air. For years this wonderful girl had been her favourite pupil and now that sweet body was hers to do with as she wished! Bliss!

Before the advent of the Serious Runner, Miss Roberts, Max had been wont to accompany Frieda on these morning workouts. But his wish to examine minutely each and every lamppost and tuft of grass, spending an inordinate amount of time in so doing, did not appeal to the purposeful older woman. The unfortunate creature was therefore left at home while the two humans tested their bodies to the limits before returning sweaty and breathless to a quick session in Frieda's bedroom from which the curious canine was excluded. Then Dolores would go to the hospital and her rapidly recovering sister and Frieda would translate a few more instructions from Far Eastern languages into English.

Dolores would come back in the evening and eat the meal Frieda had spent much time and effort preparing. Frieda was a good cook and Dolores had on more than one occasion to reprove the young girl for over feeding her. But a few more exercises seemed to suffice to keep her at the optimum weight. After dinner, Dolores would take off her sweater and invite Frieda to join her on the sofa and Frieda was soon persuaded to take off her top. Then the Kissing began, followed by the Intimate Groping. Dolores was very good at getting the rest of Frieda's clothes off her, by slow degrees, so that the younger woman never ceased to marvel when she realised that she was, once again, naked on the couch with Miss Roberts (also bare) on top of her and using her well practised fingers to bring her young lover to the Height of Insane Desire.

Max was always a fascinated bystander. After three weeks of this, when Dolores left and life returned to normal, he was to miss all this exhibition of pulsating, heaving, threshing and sweating human flesh! Frieda soon enough reverted to her former fully clothed state. Max preferred the stripped Frieda! But Max was only a dog and he knew his place. What Max needed was another furry creature - one of a more independent nature - to stiffen his resolve. This creature was not that far away.


Frieda went out for her early morning run next day, the first time she had been without the athletic Dolores by her side. She found that she no longer derived quite such pleasure at feeling the cold clean air of morning on her skin. All she could think of was that her long thighs, delightful ankles and exquisite midriff, arms, shoulders and cleavage were exposed for all to see. Now that Miss Roberts had moved on, Frieda's natural modesty had reasserted itself. But a seed had been sown nevertheless. Frieda wanted the sun to caress her body and turn it a rich shade of brown just like that of the ageing but still beguiling form of the departed Miss Roberts. But in private.

Now that the keen gym mistress was no longer there to keep her up to the mark and because she wanted company as she ran, Max was allowed to resume his presence by her side and under her feet. Inevitably this meant that she had to make frequent pauses in order that the beast might inspect each and all of the entrancing and exciting scents encountered, and also deposit his own Scent in ways that will be familiar to dog lovers and need not be described here in Distasteful Detail.

On her third morning as a lone runner once more (except for Max), she donned her former all enveloping gear. Some of the looks she had been getting from such few people as were around so early had disturbed her. But as soon as she put on her tracksuit she was amazed at the piteous whine that emanated from her little companion.

"What is it, precious?" she asked tenderly of the doleful little dog.

Another heartrending whine. With regret, Frieda decided that she had better not go for her jog today. Max seemed to be sickening for something and she feared to leave him. She slipped out of her tracksuit, revealing the usual running gear underneath. Amazingly Max perked up at this and yelped delightedly, running to the front door and demanding to be let out, obviously anxious to be off with his now familiarly underdressed mistress. So Frieda and the dog left, with our lovely heroine dressed again only in her tiny briefs, running shoes and sports bra.

How inexplicable are the ways of the Animal Kingdom, thought Frieda as she faced again the embarrassment of running with so much of her firm and nubile young body visible for all to see. She supposed that Max had come to associate minimal gear with a daily ritual, a ritual that must be observed in all details in order that his primitive fear might be not aroused. Animals obviously love the familiar and are afraid of Sudden Change.

Later that day, after she had translated into English the instructions for an electric carving knife in terms so cogently specific and easy to understand that only a congenital idiot could fail to get it right, she went out into the garden to get a breath of air. If she had known that not one but three congenital idiots were to have fatal and extremely bloody accidents with the easy to assemble and use carving knife, and that her client would be sued (unsuccessfully - thank heaven), she might have felt less at peace with the world.


"Oh, you lovely Pussy!" Frieda said delightedly. The last time that these words had been uttered on these premises had been upstairs in Frieda's bedroom by the now departed Miss Roberts, and she had been referring to the taste of a part of Frieda's anatomy! But Frieda was addressing a long haired white cat which had been sitting outside her back door as she stepped into the garden.

"Meow" replied the beautiful animal.

And she WAS beautiful! Frieda immediately designated the stranger to belong to the female sex of its species. Later on when she had come to know and fondle the newcomer she would discover that the cat was indeed a lady and a very refined lady at that.

The cat advanced in a friendly manner and allowed herself to be stroked. She purred loudly. Her fur was soft and well cared for. This was obviously someone's loved and pampered pet.

And then the white cat's attention was distracted. She was no longer attending to Frieda but looking beyond her. Frieda sensed this and looked around. Max was standing at the door and looking at the newcomer.

"Oh, dear!" thought Frieda. "This could be awkward!"


The cat had seen Max and Max had seen the cat. Frieda prepared to scoop up the lovely white creature and save her from Max's rage. Alternatively she was ready to protect Max from the cat's anger. It all depended on which of the two needed protecting from which! On the whole she feared more for Max, having been told that a cat can make mincemeat of a dog more than twice its size, and Max was only a small dog, as well as a very peaceable one.

But her fears of a cross-species bust up were groundless. Pussy was purring more loudly than ever! And Max was wagging his tail with extreme vigour and grinning his joy at the sight of the delightful newcomer. He had liked Miss Roberts, but hadn't really approved of the things she was doing to his mistress. This obviously well behaved cat would, he decided, not lead the too easily beguiled Frieda into Bad Ways. She was a worthy replacement.

The two approached and started to make friends. Pussy rubbed herself around Max and Max sniffed Pussy's sweet little arsehole, Pussy obligingly lifting her tail to facilitate this inspection. Then the two disappeared inside the house.

Frieda saw them going upstairs together and assumed that Max, the polite host, was showing Snowy around the house. Perhaps he was showing her where the bathroom was!

For Frieda had decided to name the cat Snowy. She was white and so was snow - at least when it first fell. Also, the first flakes were already falling of a snowfall that was to leave the entire countryside covered before lunchtime.

"Just as well I had my morning run before this started" thought Frieda. Then the phone rang.

It was Miss Dolores Roberts, now at home and tending her convalescent sister. Almost four days separation from Frieda's unspoiled sweetness and hot moist little tongue inside her hungry womanhood had made her desperate to talk to her former pupil.

"Hello my precious! Are you well now I have gone away?"

"Yes, my darling! As well as I could be without you to warm my bed and fill my body with the joys of Paradise!" replied the poetic Frieda. For Frieda was still very much in love with Miss Roberts.

"Is it snowing where you are, precious Frieda?"

"It's just started to, my sweet love! And the sky is like lead. I reckon we're in for quite a fall! Thank Heaven I went for my morning run before all this started. Goodness knows how long it will be before I can go out again!"

Frieda did not mention the aristocratic and snow-white feline whose coming had seemingly heralded the advent of the winter's first blizzard. She knew that Miss Roberts did not care for cats. She didn't much care for Max, come to that, regarding him as not a proper dog at all! Miss Roberts had very masculine tastes where most things were concerned - including dogs.

"What are you saying, Frieda? Am I to understand that you will not venture out tomorrow?"

Frieda realised that her standing with her lover and role model was in danger of sinking to a very low depth indeed. She would go out next day, after all!

"Oh. Yes! I'll go out, but I'll be wearing a bit more than today! I'd have been a block of ice in minutes if I'd gone out in this with so little on!"

At the other end of the line, Miss Roberts exploded!

"Are you afraid of a few silly little snowflakes on that fine strong body? The fire within you will melt it in seconds! You are a Real Woman, Frieda - not some silly pretty thing for men to toy with!"

Frieda gulped apprehensively. She'd never thought of herself in quite such heroic terms before! Miss Roberts continued.

"I shall go out tomorrow morning, dressed just as I was today, and so will you! Have courage, my Frieda! Please promise me you won't be afraid. We women are strong, my darling and must be ever stronger in a world still run by Men! Don't let me down! I shall think of you as I run through the snow! I shall picture those lovely young limbs crimson in the bitter cold. Be brave, Frieda! Be very brave! We shall both gain strength by coming through these next days. And now Agnes needs her lunch! Don't forget, Frieda! No slacking!"

Frieda put down the phone and went to the window. What a lovely sight! But surely it was impossible to go out in this with most of her body uncovered? Dolores seemed to think it possible! Dolores taught Physical Education! She was the expert, after all. Maybe Frieda could do it?

Frieda put on her running gear and tried a few circuits of her very large garden. At first it was terrible but she persevered and soon found that she was warming up with the exertion. After fifteen minutes she was feeling great, except for her fingers, which just wouldn't stop hurting. Maybe she would be OK if she wore gloves? Better phone Dolores after her sister had been fed!

(Will Dolores agree to Frieda wearing gloves in the morning cold as she does her daily run? Or is the gym mistress too hard, even to her beloved Frieda?)

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