The Pub Landlady
Copyright© 2026 by Publandlady
Chapter 11
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 11 - In a quiet English village lies a pub that time forgot, presided over by a mischievous and unconventional landlady. When she discovers an ancient book recording the customs, secrets, and curious sexual traditions of generations past, she finds herself drawn into a world where old rules still cast long shadows. Part orgy organiser, part agony aunt, and part keeper of village secrets, she is happy to share her stories with you—if you dare. It's going to be a bizarre and bumpy ride.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Farming High Fantasy Historical Humor Mystery Workplace Cheating Cuckold Sharing Slut Wife Wife Watching Wimp Husband Mother Son Humiliation Light Bond Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Interracial Black Male White Male White Female White Couple Anal Sex Exhibitionism Oral Sex Voyeurism Clergy Public Sex
I was relaxing in the garden after lunch. I had my book. I was thinking about a G&T, but I don’t want you thinking that I have a problem, so I let it pass. You can guess where Harry was.
My ‘phone rang. It was Glenda and she was in a right state.
“I’ve done something really bad,” she said.
“Who died?” I replied.
“No, nothing like that.”
“Well, that’s OK. Now calm down and tell me about it.”
“Craig gave Jem the morning off. But there is something really important that they need to do together this afternoon.
“I went over to Jem’s place to take him some lunch. He said he couldn’t help Craig because he had a problem. Then he opened his dressing gown and showed me his dick.
“He had been watching stuff on the Internet and now he couldn’t get rid of his hard-on, no matter what he did.
“I told him Craig was relying on him. And he shouted at me that I would have to sort it out then.
“So I did. It didn’t take much. Nearly as soon as I started wanking him, he came,” said Glenda.
I told her, “No real harm done then, if it’s only the once.”
“Well, it’s the first time since I’ve been seeing Craig,” she said, “Jem used to pull the same stunt occasionally when we lived in the flat.
“He would get me to buy those DVDs from Mucky Malcolm for him. I didn’t mind. He had to learn somehow and there wasn’t a man about to give him advice.
“If we had to be somewhere important he would say he couldn’t go because he had the same problem. So I had to do that thing for him.
“That was alright but there were a few times when I just couldn’t make him cum.
“Jem would say that the only solution was for him to fuck me.
“Well, I wasn’t going to allow that.
“Once I got over it by holding his prick tightly between my tits and letting him fuck them. He came all over my chin.
“On another occasion he persuaded me to let him put it between the cheeks of my arse. That was OK until his humping forced me flat on my face. The tip of his dick was right up against my bumhole. Fortunately, Jem realised what was about to happen and shot his load with excitement. It was that close to disaster,” she said.
I reassured her, “But it didn’t happen so don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“All this went on while I wasn’t getting any sex myself. It made me as frustrated as anything. Between you and me, I nearly let him have his way with me once or twice,” Glenda replied.
“Still you are getting a load now with Craig, so don’t worry about it,” I told her.
“Well, that’s part of the problem. I want to be fair with Craig. We promised each other that we would be completely honest and open about sex. I don’t know if I should tell him about today and if I do, should I tell him about the past?”
“Now you listen to me,” I told her, “Craig is a good man. You know that he’s really open-minded. He knows that you have needs and desires. Why else would he let strange men fuck you? He also knows that you’ve done everything you can for Jem. Tell him the truth. He loves you and he will understand.”
“You’re probably right,” Glenda said.
“You know that I am. Now where are you? I’m going to come and give you a hug.”
“I’m in the tearoom across the street.”
“Are you fucking mad?” I shouted. “You told me all that with those women listening?”
“No, it’s OK. I’m the only one in here. Helen is out the back with Mardy; she said something about putting stock away. And I’ve been speaking quietly. You’re the one being loud.”
“Stay there. I’m coming over,” I said, shaking my head.
When I was halfway across the street I thought, “She could have come to me.”
After I hugged her I said, “Why didn’t you come into the pub rather than ‘phoning me?”
“I couldn’t say it face to face. I was afraid that you would think that I’m a dirty slut.”
“But you are a dirty slut. I’ve always known that but I would never think badly of you.”
She had a little cry and I gave her another big hug.
“Thank you for being a good friend,” Glenda said, “I know my secrets are safe with you.”
After she’d left, I rang the counter bell and Helen eventually came out from the back of the shop.
I asked her for a pot of tea. I couldn’t be bothered to go home and make my own. Besides, after what Glenda had told me, I was feeling quite twitchy.
“I’m glad it’s you,” said Helen, “I don’t think that I’ve ever thanked you properly for everything that you’ve done for WI.
“At tonight’s meeting I am going to propose that you are made an honorary member. I know that you are not a big fan but you deserve to be recognised.”
“I appreciate the thought. I won’t have to go to any events, will I?” I asked.
“No, like I say, it’s purely honorary,” she replied.
“Then thank you,” I said.
“If there’s anything else I can do, please ask.”
Helen jumped in with, “Well, there is something you could do for me, personally.”
“Go ahead,” I said, hesitatingly.
“I don’t like to ask but a little bird told me about the lock-ins at the pub. I just wondered, if you wouldn’t mind, could you tell Gerald and I when they are going to happen?” she said shyly.
“We would love to come. If you know what I mean.”
I thought for a minute, then said, “It doesn’t quite work like that. They are not really scheduled, they just happen on odd Saturdays.”
Not strictly true, but I saw no reason to confide in her.
“You could both just come along every Saturday and see what transpires but I don’t really encourage women in my pub under normal circumstances.
“Seeing Gerald and Harry are such good friends, perhaps you could send Gerald every week. If it looks as if a lock-in will take place, Gerald could secretly text you and you could just sort of turn up later.”
“Oh, that would be lovely,” she kind of squealed.
“You do know what goes on at the lock-ins, don’t you?” I said.
“Yes, at least I hope so,” Helen answered.
“You will need to be prepared every Saturday, just in case. I don’t want you turning up cold. Maybe you could watch a dirty DVD or something on the Internet while Gerald is in the pub? It would be great if you could also get quite drunk as well,” I added.
“Yes, super, anything you say,” she gushed.
After all this depraved talk from Helen and Glenda, I felt as if I needed some spiritual guidance so I went straight from the tearoom to the vicarage.
The next day I was relaxing in the garden after lunch. I had my book. I was thinking about a G&T but I don’t want you thinking that I have a problem, so I let it pass. You can guess where Harry was.
My ‘phone rang. “Not again,” I thought. But it was Imogen. She wanted to know if we could have lunch one day soon. She had news about the box of papers that Rose had given me. I told her that I could be in Dorchester the following day. This suited her.
Imogen was full of her old enthusiasm. She had given the documents to an expert on paper conservation but it turns out that most of them weren’t on paper but on things she called vellum or parchment. Much older than we thought. All the experts were amazed. She said a lot of them dated from before the great vowel shift. I had no idea what the fuck she was on about; it sounded a bit crude to me. Evidently, a few hundred years ago the way they said words changed. I said, “Whatever!” It was too technical for me.
What was getting their academic knickers in a twist was that all of them appeared to have been written by women and back there that was bloody rare. And by country women, unheard of.
Anyway, as you know, I like a bit of history, but this was a bit beyond me so I asked her to change the subject.
“Glad to,” she said. “That’s the other reason I got you here.” I’d fallen for it again. Someone had got my attention and then slipped in their real request.
“Go on, hit me with it,” I said.
“Well, next month I’ll be forty.”
“I always thought that you were forty already.”
“Cheeky old bitch,” Imogen said.
“As I’m after a favour, I’ll let you off.
“I understand that you organise birthday parties.”
“I have done one, but how did you know?” I said.
“Rita told me every detail. Right down to the last fuck. I would have loved to have been there but I understand why other women weren’t allowed.
“That’s my dilemma. A. it’s been done and B. I’ve met some great girls since I’ve known you and I wouldn’t want them left out of it.”
I said, “So let me get this straight. My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to arrange a mind-blowingly filthy party for you that includes women.”
“And the Hoss,” Imogen added.
“And the Hoss?” I repeated.
“Yes.”
“Apart from that I would have carte blanche to do whatever I want?”
“As long as it’s really perverted,” added Imogen.
“Leave it with me,” I finished with.
The following Saturday night Harry was really excited. He got to spend the whole evening talking to Gerald about golf clubs and then he took him down to the cellar to show him his equipment. I try not to judge. When they came back up they had obviously started talking about golf clubs again because I heard Gerald say to Harry, “Well, from what you told me we should both buy Harley-Davidsons.”
Gerald later told Harry that by the time he got home Helen was nearly pissed out of her head but really ramped up. He said that he sucked her tits, licked her fanny and fucked her arse and she didn’t complain once.
The following week both Gerald and Harry went back to his place. Harry said they really abused her. Evidently, she was up for anything. Gerald made Harry push his whole hand up her while Gerald fucked her arse. Then Gerald put his hand in her fanny and clenched his fist. Harry said it felt really weird fucking her bum like that but he liked it.
I told Harry not to get any ideas about doing that to me but that she should go down well at next Saturday’s lock-in.
The first Saturday of the month came soon enough. The bar was packed. Imogen looked really tarty but in a nice way. Her clothing was sexy but very accessible. The blokes managed to get to her intimate place every time she stretched to retrieve a glass. Not just the men. Helen had arrived quite quickly after Harry gave Gerald the nod. Shortly followed by Mardy. She was sitting next to him having her fanny teased. Mardy encouraged her to grope Imogen whenever she got near.
Rita was receiving her usual attention but she thoughtfully kept changing seats to give everyone a chance of a wet finger.
I had saved a seat at the bar for Glenda who left it quite late. As soon as she arrived I interrogated her. Craig was smiling broadly as he helped her onto the stool by her tits so I guessed things didn’t go too badly. He went and sat next to Helen.
“So?” I said to her.
“He’s a lovely man,” she said.
“I know that but what did he say when you told him?”
“He just laughed a little because I was afraid to tell him. Then he said that when Jem started working for him he had told Craig that he had been fucking me twice a week for years and that I was a bloody good shag.
“Craig said that he was delighted when we met at that New Year’s Eve because he hadn’t had any sex for ages and he really wanted to try me after Jem’s glowing review. He also said Jem was spot on in his opinion of my merits.
“I wanted to find Jem and murder him. But Craig said he wasn’t too upset that it wasn’t true: the fucking me bit that is.
“He said young men are full of tales of their prowess and he was slightly embarrassed that he believed it. He thought that I should just let it go. He also said that I was a great mother and that he was quite happy for me to do whatever I needed to do, whenever I needed to do it. As I said, lovely man.
“Then he handed me the blindfold and said, ‘Get dressed, girl, I’m taking you for a drive.’
“I was back in the Land Rover with my stockings and boots on, my slit uncovered and my tits out for all to see when we pulled out of the yard.
“Craig said he thought I was a great shag, but he admitted he was biased. Jem apparently thought so too, even if he’d never actually tried me. Half the blokes in the pub reckoned the same, though they were usually drunk by the time I had my legs in the air.”
“Craig was reassuring. He said that I just lacked confidence and that I was the one that needed to be convinced that I was a great shag. So we should try to get some more opinions.
“We had only been driving for about ten minutes. There hadn’t been many spots where we slowed up so I guessed that Craig’s main objective wasn’t to show every passing stranger my tits. Nevertheless, I was glad that the Land Rover had sturdy leather seats because I felt like I was sitting in a puddle of my own juices.
“Craig pulled to a stop, got out and came around to my side. He opened the door and helped me out. I was gently bent over the bonnet.
“He then called out, ‘There you go, lads. Help yourselves.’ I quickly felt hands on my hips as someone slipped a prick into me.
“He was very enthusiastic. Obviously, I had been fucked a bit lately but that was in the pub by men that I knew. This was something else. I couldn’t see this guy. I was outdoors and I was fairly sure I was being watched. It was thrilling. If Craig wasn’t there it would have been bloody dangerous but, because he was, it just felt dirty.
“When matey had finished, Craig asked him blatantly how I was for him.
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