Simple Twists of Fate
Copyright© 2026 by Publandlady
Chapter 14: Better than Chocolate?
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 14: Better than Chocolate? - The discovery of Granny Woodbine's Elixir for curing a limp pizzle changes everything at Broad Oaks Retirement Village. It gives ordinary people extraordinary sexual prowess and appetites. Bristol - Bruges- Chelmsford - Cincinnati - Dorchester - Gaborone - New York - San Francisco - Zurich. Their journeys to a quiet part of Dorset, England, in the early 1970s are exotic and diverse. Each one of them eventually surrenders to the control of Arthur Kemp and to the allure of the elixir.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Historical Rags To Riches Cuckold Sharing Wife Watching Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Swinging Interracial Anal Sex Exhibitionism Voyeurism Porn Theatre
It was surprising the difference that winning such a prestigious medal made to the business. The factory began to work at full capacity as new customers materialised.
Jean and George thought seriously about expanding their production capacity. They decided against it as they were doing well enough the way things were. If anything, the limited supply gave Kaffir lime chocolate added prestige.
After that, hardly a year went by without an offer to purchase the business, the recipe, or both.
By the early 70s, Jean had started to entertain the idea. Talks took place but the terms were never quite right.
After a particularly promising visit to a leading chocolate manufacturer in York, the couple were enjoying an intimate Italian meal. Seated in a quiet corner, enjoying their Tiramisu and their second bottle of Chianti, George became a trifle serious.
“How would you feel about letting go of the business on those new terms?”
“To be perfectly honest, I would miss it, certainly, but I would be happy that my ladies could retain ownership of the Chocolate Shop and run it as a co-operative, albeit under a different name. This latest offer would also leave us incredibly rich.”
“No, there is another fear that worries me. That is the fear of not doing it. The fear that maybe we have lost something from concentrating so much of our life into chocolate that we’ve missed out on other things.”
George’s eyes twinkled as he said, “I think I know what you mean but please tell me frankly what your concerns are.”
“Don’t hold back, old girl. I won’t be hurt if you think that I’ve been at fault somehow.”
Jean looked slightly shocked, “No, no. It’s nothing you’ve done. It is what we haven’t done. Maintaining that silly air of respectability has held us back from really enjoying our success. Suddenly, the world doesn’t give a damn about respectability anymore and anything goes. I’m afraid that we’ve left it too late to be reckless and do the things that we have fantasised about.”
The husband laughed out loud, “Don’t write us off just yet but we may be a little too old for all that Glam Rock malarkey. Nevertheless, it is 1974 and from what I read middle-aged people are finding ways to have fun, they just don’t broadcast it. Tell me straight, what would you really like to do?”
Jean took a deep breath before saying, “Well, I’d like to move out of the city for one thing. As well as that, I’d love us to have the occasional trip to places where we could be really, really naughty!
“Never mind me, I’m not the only one in this marriage, what do you really want?”
“Well, that’s best out in the open. Personally, I couldn’t have put it better myself. You are still a beautiful sexy woman of fifty-six and I want to do really dirty things to you and with you, uninhibited things, things we’ve spoken about and things that we haven’t even thought about yet,” said George, fervently.
“Pay the bill and let’s get out of here,” giggled Jean.
They were headed back towards the hotel, hand in hand, when George guided Jean into a narrow alley between a clothes shop and a restaurant.
“Ow!” she laughed.
“Better start as we mean to carry on. Besides, I can’t wait to fuck you!” George said.
They found a dark spot on the other side of a rusty fire escape. George took Jean in his arms and kissed her deeply.
“Turn around!” he ordered, forcefully.
His wife complied, bending over as she did so and gripping a stanchion. George lifted her dress up over her waist and felt for her silk knickers. He pulled them down over her shoes. As he helped her step out of them he caught a faintest whiff of her womanly odour. George lost no time in releasing his straining cock and guiding it into Jean’s expectant fanny.
Using her suspender belt as an anchor, he began to slam against her soft plump backside.
“Oh yes, fuck me George, fuck me hard!” cried Jean.
George felt her juices splashing onto him with every stroke.
Suddenly, as her eyes grew more accustomed to the gloom, Jean thought that she could see the faint glow of a cigarette a little way off and a dark shape below it.
“I think someone is watching us over there, George,” she said as she pushed back strongly.
“I know, I saw him a minute ago. I think he’s wanking while he’s been staring at you. It’s too late to worry about it now, I’m nearly there!”
Jean wasn’t worried, she was bloody excited by it. “Yes, fuck me harder, let him watch!”
“Yes, but I can’t hold back now!” cried George as he ejaculated into Jean.
“I fuck lady next, please very much mister please?” came a voice from the darkness.
George was still pressed hard against his wife’s bum. He hesitated momentarily before saying, “OK, but be quick!”
“God help me, yes let him have a go!” squealed his wife, with a passion.
Appearing from the shadows, the well-built Chinese cook was still stroking his well-built penis. George stepped to one side to allow the oriental access.
“Jesus Christ!” said Jean, as she was impaled, “it’s huge!”
“Shall I stop him?” asked her husband, concerned in case things had gone too far.
“Don’t you dare!” snapped Jean.
George grasped her left tit, over her dress, and began to knead it forcefully, while the strange man pumped his wife as if his very life depended upon it.
Contrary to George’s stipulation, the man wasn’t quick. He just ploughed on and on. Jean grunted with every slap of his large low slung bullocks. Finally, she cried out, “George, he is making me come!”
“By the look on his face you are returning the compliment,” expressed her husband. He put his arm over her waist to support his spouse as her knees gave way.
With his dripping dick swinging free, the Chinaman made off up the alley. As he swung open a door a shaft of light flooded out. “Thank you please, mister, I get others fuckers!” he shouted as he stepped inside.
George quickly took Jean by the hand and led her out of the alley.
“Are you alright?” enquired George as they walked away.
Jean laughed, “Why wouldn’t I be, I’ve lost my drawers in an alley, I’ve had a double portion for the first time and I’m looking forward to our new life of debauchery!”
As Jean and George wandered around the grounds of The Broad Oaks Retirement Village on a warm spring afternoon, she said, “I love this place!”
George agreed, “So do I, it’s so peaceful and well kept.”
“Something tells me that we may not have to travel too far in search of naughtiness.”
“There is a strange atmosphere about the place but what makes you so sure it’s sexual tension?” enquired George, with a half smirk.
“Well, it may be the fact that Miss Chadwick said ‘open minded’ eight times as she showed us around.”
“Ah, I didn’t notice,” he admitted.
“That is because you are a man, my dear,” smiled Jean, “I don’t suppose you noticed the looks on the lady’s face when we were introduced to Mr and Mrs Fitzgerald and Mr and Mrs Dodds and they spoke of Mr Kemp’s parties.”
“I certainly noticed the ladies. They seemed quite pleasant.”
“Don’t worry, I know that you thought them more than pleasant. The men had their appeal too. Yes, I have a warm feeling that we are going to like it here in Dorset. Maybe Fate meant to bring us to this place at this time.”
They moved into the lovely fully furnished bungalow within a week. Everybody was so friendly. They swam most days as the weather started to get warmer. Whilst everyone wore bathing costumes, of a sort, the other residents were very carefree about making contact when they were under water. Jean bought herself some very skimpy bikinis to match those that the other ladies wore.
When they finally met Arthur Kemp, Jean had no compunction about bringing up the subject of his parties.
“Well, they are completely optional of course but if you do decide to attend there are certain rules that everyone agrees to abide by,” explained Arthur.
“Oh yes, I’m intrigued,” said Jean.
“And I’m eager to learn more,” confirmed George.
“It’s fairly simple. Each month we have a Golden Rule which everyone agrees to keep.”
“Nothing too decent, I hope,” suggested Mrs Armstrong.
“Of that you can rest assured. We insist that the ladies all wear cocktail dresses, standards must be maintained. While the gentlemen are just attired in dressing gowns and slip on shoes.
“Oh, and I nearly forgot we all drink a vial of Granny Woodbine’s Elixir before proceedings start off.”
“What on earth is that?” they both asked, almost simultaneously.
Arthur Kemp continued, “Ah, it’s hard to explain precisely. Basically, it is a herbal remedy that helps the party to go very well.
“Here you are, take these two vials, free of charge. You need to allow some undisturbed free time and both take it simultaneously.
“If you are happy with the results, Mrs Armstrong, I suggest that you talk over the implications with the other ladies.”
“Won’t I need to be in on the conversation,” asked George.
“My dear Mr Armstrong, I would suggest that if Mrs Armstrong is keen on the prospect your opinion will be of no consequence,” concluded Kemp with a laugh.
That evening, the Armstrongs returned from an excellent dinner at the White Horse in Sturminster Newton. The taxi driver, as taxi drivers often are, was quite chatty.
“They do a lovely dinner at the White Horse, I like it there.
“But, my missus is quite partial to a Chinese.”
This made Jean giggle, “Me too. Mind you, I’ve only ever had one but my husband had to drag me away to stop me having a load more.”
Then she remembered the Elixir.
“We could try that stuff that Mr Kemp gave us,” she suggested in a half whisper.
George agreed quietly, “What a great idea. Goodness knows what it is or what it does but at least we will be at home if it knocks us out.”
They both made excruciating faces as they simultaneously downed the black green liquid.
“I can see why Mr Kemp was giving it away, there’s no way in which anybody would pay for that,” said Jean Armstrong.
“Unzip my dress for me, dear. Fix us both a gin and tonic, after that you can give me a good fingering while you tell me about the time you let a complete stranger have your wife in a dark alley,” she teased.
By the time that George turned back with the drinks, Jean had her knickers off and was lying on the bed, legs spread and knees up. She had made no attempt to divest herself of her navy blue girdle, black nylons or shoes.
“God almighty, something strange is happening, my fanny is sizzling and twitching,” she announced.
Unable to do anything with his hands full, George sort of nodded downwards towards his trousers. “You don’t have to tell me darling, something has invaded my pants.”
“Lose the drinks and let me see what it is!”
George did as he was instructed. He dropped his trousers and underpants to reveal what was obviously his own penis but somehow more rigid and upright than he’d ever known it.
“Bring it here!” Jean commanded.
George waddled forward, penguin style.
As Jean squeezed and tried to bend George’s cock it retained total turgidity.
“Don’t just stand there, get your trousers off and fuck me,” urged his wife.
“I thought that you wanted me to talk you up a bit first!”
“That won’t be necessary at all. Besides, we have no idea that this is going to last and I want to try it before it disappears.”
George Armstrong did as he was urged. As he climbed between his wife’s legs, he made a suggestion, “You had best guide it in, old girl. It’s so hard, curved against my belly, that if I just push it will miss completely.”
Too excited to argue, Jean slipped her hand between them and, with some effort, forced his penis downwards until its head was roughly where she wanted it.
“Now,” she instructed. “Awww!” Jean added as it found its target. She lifted her knees further to maximise the penetration.
George took his weight on straightened arms and began to buck furiously.
“Awww! It’s never felt quite that good before,” his wife commented.
George wasn’t offended. He was of the same opinion.
As his wife had feared, it didn’t last too long. Well no longer than her husband usually lasted, and certainly less time than the Chinese cook. Normally, like many men, once George had ejaculated his enthusiasm waned fairly quickly.
This situation wasn’t normal. Strangely, the release of hot semen started a chain reaction. Firstly, it caused his wife to orgasm violently with a scream of ecstasy. Secondly, it spurred George on with absolutely no loss of intensity. His cock was as hard as ever.
After about thirty minutes they changed position and carried on. Once they had practiced their full range of exotic gymnastic poses, they started again. Nobody saw or heard from Mr and Mrs George Armstrong during the next day. Nobody was in the slightest bit surprised; they all remembered their first experience of Granny Woodbine’s Elixir.
The day after this, the male residents of Broad Oaks Retirement Village had arranged a golf day. The ladies were shopping in Bournemouth.
A bleary-eyed and still shell-shocked George Armstrong had reluctantly agreed to take part in a social sixsome. Even though he hadn’t played for years, he was happy enough to put up his ten pound stake. To compensate for his rustiness the others allowed him five Mulligans.
All of the regular participants knew that these stipulations were irrelevant as Arthur Kemp invariably won. It wasn’t that he was a particularly good golfer. It was his ability to manipulate the proceedings. It wasn’t because Arthur needed the prize money. It was because he had to be in control. Arthur Kemp liked to be in control.
As they walked from hole to hole, the men walked in informal pairs. In this way George learnt a little about the individual journeys that had brought them to Broad Oaks.
Ron Goodwin was happily divorced. During years as a stock market wizard he had made and lost fortunes. At the retirement village he had finally found contentment.
George was fascinated by Sam Fitzgerald’s tales of his former career in the Botswana Civil Service.
For some reason, Jim Simms was rather reluctant to speak of his own life. Instead, he talked of his good friend Giles Archer. Doris, Giles’ wife, had not long ago undergone her second knee replacement surgery. As a consequence she was now able to do things that she hadn’t done for years. In celebration, the two Broad Oaks residents had undertaken a road trip to visit Doris’ sister in Carlisle. Evidently, while breaking their journey to stop at a wayside pub overnight, Doris had taken on the whole of the local darts team.
The exhibition had so excited Giles that he suffered a heart attack and was currently in hospital in Stoke on Trent.
Jim laughed uproariously when George said that Doris must be one hell of a good darts player to accept that sort of challenge.
According to Stan Dodds, his life with Beryl hadn’t really taken off until he had sold his successful plumbing business in Essex. Well, this was the version of events that the couple chose to portray; in reality Beryl had won a considerable amount of money on the Football Pools. Only then had they done the things that they should have done years ago.
Nobody was particularly surprised when Arthur took three Mulligans on the last hole to finish one stroke ahead of Sam and take the money.
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