Down There Somewhere

by uksnowy

Copyright© 2017 by uksnowy

Sex Story: Two keen detectorists go their own ways

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Fiction   Slut Wife   Wife Watching   Incest   Father   Daughter   Anal Sex   Analingus   Exhibitionism   Masturbation   Voyeurism   BBW   Hairy   Menstrual Play   Small Breasts   .

Inspired by a quirky BBC TV series and the diverse, complex and very odd characters therein

Saturday 17th June

Eric Waters and Colin Harvey were detectorists, commonly and popularly known as Metal Detectors, although the two middle aged men corrected everyone, that the term was the name of the instrument to detect metals in the earth and not the people who operated the instruments. Members of the eight strong Hindle and Bogsbrush Detectorist Club, they met once a month in the Hindle village hall or at the Cock and Brush Inn.

Norman Painter the self appointed chairman was droning on about permissions, rules, venues and equipment as usual and Eric was ogling, for nothing better to do, Norman’s girlfriend Enid Slivership, while she carted mugs of builders tea from the well appointed kitchen in the hall out to the full membership apart from Ergl Sctomvic, the newest member all the way from Latvia by means of illegal entry, purposely choosing England’s remote country area to hide. Ergl only drank vodka direct from a bottle, without labels, arguing with Norman it was purely medicinal.

Enid was about mid 50s Eric guessed, slight of body, skinny legs and minimal bosoms as much as he could make out beneath the all enveloping shrouds of clothing she seems commonly attached to whether socially like this night or at work in the chicken processing factory at the end of Bogbrush village. Eric grinned as Enid theatrically swept her thin frizzy badly bleached yellow hair from her face as she placed Norman’s mug ceremoniously in front of him, bending to kiss him.

The burly, always gruff, always right, tall well built, moustached man swept her aside, to continue with his monthly tirade to the group about the lack of treasure finds. Enid scampered busily away, her boy friend’s mug being the last, therefore hugely upsetting him, but Eric had noticed when she bent down, her pale yellow, tea cup patterned smock had ridden up because of the amount of starch she washed and ironed it with exposing the top of cheap hold up stockings in a mid tan colour. Eric Waters tried to nudge his buddy, but Colin as usual he was hanging on Norman’s every word.

Discussions about a rival group of detectorists raged, between Norman and Don a hairy, long term member who had never found anything in many searches, digs and scrabbling around. They were joined by Neal, a spotty, tall lanky youth with owl like glasses on the end of his long pointed nose which was constantly running with snot, his nickname was Sniffer ... wonder why.

“Scuse me Norm, toilet call,” said Eric, getting up after downing a mouthful of tea, which damn near burned his gullet. He strolled past the kitchen door along the hall way to the gents, but not without a lingering peep to see if Enid was bending over again. She wasn’t, she was propped against a worktop, leaning slightly, her back to him, reading a magazine and sipping her tea. Her stockings were a bit wrinkled. However to feed Eric’s voyeuristic nature, he would stare at anything female, he did notice that her smock stretched tight over her butt, betrayed no sign of any panty line.

Sandra Toole bustled out of the ladies toilet, past him, grinning inanely, determine not to miss any more of Norman’s lecture, she was his daughter to another woman, there was another somewhere. Quickly, Eric entered the female zone and felt, then sniffed the plastic lookalike mahogany toilet seat, inhaling Sandra’s cheap Eau de Cologne that pervaded the cubicle. The seat was warm but gave off no odours. On a hook in the main area, Enid’s day clothes hung. She’d come straight from work that evening.

Eric fondled the navy blue cotton drill trousers she’d worn, then her bright orange polo shirt, realising she didn’t have anything on under her smock apart from underwear. He went back to the trousers and unearthed the crotch and sniffed long and hard finding traces of piss, shit, cunt and chickens. He savoured the total effect, regardless of Enid’s outer appearance, not in the least bit fancying her, but she was female, therefore to the bachelor of fifty eight years viable snooping prey. He sloped off to the gents and had a piss.

“So the high performing, Whites Matrix M6, easy to use detector I propose we buy at a little under five hundred quid will give us a lot more finds I am sure. You’ve all got the leaflets. It’s Turn on and go simplicity with only 2 controls, will suit all of us present, except maybe ... Oh good Eric, you know a bit about this of course, but I was just explaining the finer points to the members,” said Norman as the Hon. Treasurer of the club re-entered the hall, taking his seat.

“I believe it’s got DISC and SENS Auto Track Toggle Beach, Auto and Off Modes, All Metal Mode and...” squeaked Neal. “Ace piece of gear...”

“Yes thanks Neal,” interjected an annoyed Norman.

“Well we’ve got the funds, lets do it,” agreed Colin, Eric having found the instrument and told his buddy, much to Norman’s disquiet. “I could pick one up at Maplins tomorrow.”

“Yes Mr Secretary OK. All in favour ... thank you.” announced Norman at the unanimous show of hands. “Last thing, remember our motto, There’s some thing down there, Good luck.”

The full membership tidied the hall and dispersed to the pub apart from Ergl and Sandra, who went their own way to a car park. Several pints worse off, the smaller group in the boozer dispersed once more. Neal lived three houses along Trundle Lane from Norman and Enid, accepting their offer of a late nightcap. Norman switched the 50” LG TV on and searched, while Enid poured two bottles of Guinness and a snifter of Drambuie for herself, before popping upstairs to change. She’d thrown on a Gaberdine rain coat, left in the hall to protect herself from the rainfall that had developed while in the pub.

“I do like a bit of smut,” chortled Norman, eyes glued to a video he had found on the WiFi linked to his computer upstairs. “I know you do,” he snickered at Neal, who already was sporting a stiffy in his fashionably, but in his case carelessly torn jeans. They had managed to bump into each other in a dirty video shop while down in London during a Metal Detecting convention a few months ago and promised each other to keep sthtum to the others. The scene on the screen depicted a slender, very very black girl being shafted in all three of her pink holes while wanking two other men.

“So I’m not good enough for you,” asked Enid posing glamour girl style in the doorway. “I could do that,” she giggled, nodding at the screen, grabbing her liqueur, downing it in one.

The two men goggled at her, standing before them masking the TV screen, dressed in a see through nipple exposing garish black and purple brassiere, similar coloured suspender belt and black stocking with incredibly long suspenders, sheer black seamed stockings and six inch high heeled stilettos. The transformation from dowdy worker to would-be glamour model was complete, by Enid’s very hairy long brown muff and crotchless matching panties. Her hair was tied back with an elastic scrunchy.

“Fucking hell,” grunted Norman, who had seen it all before...

“Shit wow!” exclaimed Neal, as Enid sauntered to him, a fresh snifter in her calloused hand.

Ergl and Sandra decided to stay in the car.

Eric alone, in his deceased mother’s house, watched voyeur videos on his favourite website Tom Voyeur.

Colin at home, ostensibly occupied by a text book on Roman bronze artefacts studied Gemma his 14 year old step-daughter and her friend Natalie Barnes, long long hair masking their faces, lying face down on the lounge carpet gaming some war stuff.

Enid’s hot thin rump wriggled on Neal’s thighs, while with one hand she attempted to un-clip her bra and not spill her booze.

“He’s got a stiffy Norm, there’s something down there.” she giggled.

Her boyfriend glanced at the odd couple, smirked, shifted in his chair to free up his own erection stimulated by the gang bang on screen and the uncouth antics of his live in girl friend. His view from across the small lounge was of Enid’s wide open stringy legs with her stockings creating a myriad wrinkles so slack were they on her scrawny legs. Between them the veritable hanging forest of brown frond like pubic hair nearly masked the slender lips of a mature twat that had never experienced child birth.

“Do her then Neal, you daft twat,” scoffed an ever impatient Norman, putting his drink down, rising and undoing her bra. In turn she cupped his balls, placed her drink aside after downing it and unfastened his zipper.

“Never mind Neal darling,” Enid tittered over her shoulders. “He’s done me bra, I’ll get his cock out and then you can do me proper ... listen to that rain.”

Ergl lay full length on his car rear seat, and sniffed a pair of black panties as Sandra rode him cowgirl style, loving the feel of his thick short cock reaming her arse hole. Anal sex had been a regular occurrence when she lived with Norman, when Gladys her mother was having one of her fits. The fact she still had her hymen intact until she was 14 led Norman to introduce the ginger haired, buck toothed teenager to one of his favourite sexual deviances. That had been a few years back, but now and then, when they felt like it, her and her step father would indulge in a bit of back door shagging.

Natalie Barne’s cute bottom in skin tight black leggings, contrasted with Gemma’s chubbier bum in equally skin tight white leggings. Their lower limbs swung up, back and forth, then sideways in excitement as they ruined each others army. They really should wear something more appropriate Colin thought and was thankful he and Selma, his wife, monitored Gemma’s device to avoid any nasty perverts contacting their beloved only daughter. He went back to his book, while Selma continued with knitting yet another cardigan for his detecting adventures.

“I’m going into town tomorrow darling,” he told Selma, who looked over the top of her spectacles, one perfectly painted eyebrow raised. “Picking up a new detector for the club. Do you want me to get you anything?”

She shook her pretty head, her natural blonde curls creating a sort of pretty halo he thought while Selma didn’t dare ask him to go into Ann Summers shop and chose a big long dildo to satisfy her cravings.

“Don’t be too late Colin, remember you’re taking the girls swimming?” she added, glancing at a clock.

He nodded and shook his head behind the book as if to say ‘for fucks sake it’s not you that has to do all this running around, do you think I’d forget?’

Gemma went to the toilet, so Natalie, swiftly glanced back and saw her adult hosts were preoccupied so she swiped the screen of her device and a man’s face grinned at her, with a message along the bottom of the image – it read:-

Hi Nat, Uncle Dan here. This time can you show me your pussy please? Your tits are gorgeous thank you. You are a truly beautiful girl.

She smiled and decided she would do that later at home, the naughty man, although she wasn’t sure she like that bushy beard and nerdy specs.

Neal let Enid do all the work, rocking hard down on his nine inch circumcised dick. She’d heard about it from both her husband and Eric when they had skinny dipped at a pool after an exhaustingly hot day out detecting, drinking wine and beer after a highly successful bag of finds. Neal had been a trifle unsure about going nude, with other men, but the fact Norm and Eric were so much older than he, gave him a measure of security. They had all giggled when he had unsheathed his donger, in awe of such a monster on such a young man, who to old timers like Eric and Norman reckoned he would have no trouble getting his rocks off regardless of his unfortunate nerdy appearance.

“Oh yes Neal fuck me as hard as you like with that big one Oohhhh!” Enid gasped, breaking for a moment from gobbling Norman’s not inconsiderable tool. She cupped her partner’s large sweaty dangling bunch of ballocks and juggled them gently, glad she told him not to wash after work in the allotment today, loving the cheesy taste, not unlike a mild Gorgonzola. Her head jiggled with Neal’s upward thrusts, loving his youthful energy as her hairy, mature minge captured all of his meat, knowing she’d had bigger shafts up her cunt.

The leisure centre was busy, closing part for a maintenance emergency. Colin took his book to read in the cafeteria, while the girls planned to swim in the junior lanes. The power failure panic had closed some of the shower areas, two of the baby changing cubicles, the crechè and other changing facilities, so Gemma and Natalie agreed to share a changing cubicle. They giggled constantly as they bumped each other, getting in each others way. Gemma removed her sleeveless pale washed out pink denim top then her white leggings, which was a laborious event, so skin tight were they. Natalie let her go first because of the limited space then repeated the same operation with her black leggings, with the mysterious to Colin, rips at the knees. Apparently they were fashionable. Natalie hauled off her tee shirt. Removing their brassieres, Natalie went first with her black one although Gemma followed quickly, also with her black one, glancing at the others breasts, concealed envy in the young miss Harvey because her best ever friend’s breasts were much bigger and wobbled a lot.

Gemma was wearing simple white briefs, Natalie cute high cut red panties with a lace trim and front panel. Both undies were despatched to their sports bags causing more sneaky glances at each others cunts.

“Do your nipples always like stick out like that Gem?” queried Natalie, noticing her chubby friends erections.

“Dunno, maybe ‘cos they’re like out in the cooler air. Do yours? I mean you don’t really have them do you, just those nice sort of like smooth extra sort of lumps,” Gemma answered, considering Natalie’s puffies.

“Oh yes, but not like every time, come on coach’ll be waiting,” young Miss Barnes replied hauling up her black and red team swimsuit.

A dreamy looking young pool lifeguard turned to answer his staff comms phone spotted Gemma and Natalie, exiting the cubicle that he’d once had a close interest in and cursed on the missed chance, one of hundreds. He totally ignored the drooling all eyes on him school girls. His eyes were were fixed on a woman he’d seen in the foyer buying a ticket walking to the baby changing room. She was Asian, swarthy, big hook nose, dense black hair escaping from a black hijab very very pregnant, carrying a baby and with an unruly infant dragging at her vivid yellow and red coloured Sari. The pulls on her clothing which she seemed to happily accept and tolerate, suggested her bosom was full of milk. How he’d wished his mate Darryl hadn’t been sacked for placing concealed cameras in the ceiling over one of the changing cubicles. He had enjoyed the illicit voyeur images, taking a chance on what female entered the rigged cubicle, stripping then dressing. Those young chicks would have been nice to peep on but he did favour the more mature woman.

Enid persuaded Norman to kneel down on the cushion she proffered so she could continue sucking her partner, while tilting her thin body forward, exposing her bum hole to young Neal. He fingered her bulbous sphincter set in a wide circle of darker toned skin, pulling the inch long hairs apart, making her squeal with the minute stabs of pain but mainly in delight.

“Stick your finger in if you want to Neal,” urged Norman. “She loves that,” he giggled.

“Just don’t fuck it and be careful please,” his girlfriend added. “I’m still a bit sore in there, from experimenting with the wrong kitchen utensils.”

“You silly cow,” Norman muttered.”Told you to wait till you’d tried them on me. My arse hole is bigger than yours my pet lamb,” he gushed.

“Yes gobblyboo,” Enid snickered. “It definitely is, you can shag him of you want Neal, that’s if you’ve got strength after you’re done with me.”

Neal wasn’t sure about homosexual things and didn’t reply. Norman thought the cheeky bint suggesting that. He didn’t really relish having Neal’s exceedingly long rigid stalk up his bum.

“Thanks Dad,” called Natalie as she dashed out of her father’s Citroen C4 car, before he drove it into the garage. She let herself in, stamping her feet and shaking the rain off her waist level auburn hair, then short black leather jacket as Glenys her mother appeared thankful she was home safe and relatively dry considering the downpour.

“There was no way we could let you walk home in this weather Natalie, so we text Gemma’s mum and told her. You’re not too wet though. Going to change?”

“Yeah mum, think I’ll shower as well,” the teen told her, scampering upstairs her tote bag flapping round her shoulder.

“Good girl ... Hello love, it’s not raining too hard is it?” Glenys a satisfied and demure brown haired lady greeted Frank Barnes in the hallway. “She’s gone to shower.”

Frank nodded, tossed the car keys on a table, returned the kiss and retired to his study. He switched his TV on, thinking that was good timing, flicked a switch and emailed his golfing buddy Ken Thomas. Glenys got on with her needlework.

Natalie, tossed her tablet on the bed took off her shoes and checked her device for messages. While flicking the screen, she started undressing and as it happened so did Ken Thomas in a vast very expensive flat. His TV was on. He only took off his jeans and pants. Natalie’s pale red panties were dropped on the bedroom floor to join her black skin tight leggings. Next was her damp tee-shirt and she attacked the two bra clips round her back. Off peeled her 38D brassiere, her perfect conical breasts with puffies jutting proudly, quivering tantalising and after dropping that under garment in the same place as the others, she rubbed her large juvenile well formed bosoms in a sort of relief from the tight and necessary confines of the cups.

Ken edged, loving the puffies on display sight of his buxom young daughter of his golfing partner, best friend and fellow pervert. The new top of the range surveillance equipment Ken had installed in the Barnes residence matched what he had installed in his flat and where Frank could share the charms of at least one nubile teen and maybe more if her pals visited and stayed, Ken could share the charms of his large coterie of female friends. Frank was working to find out the next time Gemma would be staying over.

The rain had actually increased as Sandra waved and smiled at the two village men who had spotted Ergl’s banger in the lane. They both stared into the car, soaked to the skin but enjoying the usual sight at a well known dogging spot, the weather preventing other exhibitionist couples to venture out and display their fucking techniques to the usual bunch of perverts. The black one with a passive friendly Labrador on a lead wanked, not worrying his mammoth black salami like cock was getting wet, as Sandra changed from being solidly buggered, to kneeling on the car seat and Ergl doing her cunt doggy style. He spotted the Labrador and mused whether Sandra would be interested in letting the hound fuck her, just like his mother, sister, wife and three daughters did back in Brivkalni, Lativa where he had come from. He thought she would, her cunt and bum were capacious enough to be tied. He climaxed, giving Sandra a couple of jism ropes, before pulling out and spraying her buttocks with great dollops of creamy East Europanan sperm. The Negro followed in seconds as did the other man.

Sunday 18th June

Gemma and her dad surveyed the mess the rain had made on the new seedlings in their mutual passion, the garden.

“Never mind pet,” said Colin, slinging a protective arm round his chubby young daughter. His hand hovered quite unintentionally near her pert but small breast, her nipples stout and prominent under her scarlet cotton shirt. “We can do them again and still have some nice salad crop, which will please mum. Can you fill the barrow with some compost for the rhubarb while I sort this mess out please?”

Expertly Gemma manhandled the fork and barrow and nearly filled the wheel barrow until she suddenly saw a snake wriggling swiftly out of sight in the mixture of horse shit, shredded paper, garden waste and rotten fruit and vegetables. School biology had stirred her soul about snakes and apart from zoos and such places, or walking in the countryside and stumbling on an adder, this was a live and available subject to study. Colin took the barrow, seeing her denim clad round bum in the air as she delved with her hands into the mire of nutritious goodies, telling him what she was doing.

Natalie, naked holding a towel in front of her trotted across the landing to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She removed her make-up, sat and had a piss, while taking the two hair clips out and shaking her long auburn locks. Then she took a look at the extent of her pubic hair, determined they would be removed, because her gang of school friends stated that girls didn’t sport any hair on their pussy these days and if they had, it needed to be removed. It must be true because some of them had boyfriends and they said so. Natalie quite liked her little brown patch and what’s more Gemma didn’t have anything like hers.

“Erreehh ohohoh fuuuurrrck!” Neal shouted, shooting gobbets of his cum high in Enid’s slack old pussy. Her hand was a blur, tossing Norman off and as he spouted ropes of elderly cum over her wizened face, his girlfriend frigged her clit and climaxed seconds later. Norman staggered back to his chair and grabbed some tissues while Enid climbed stiffly, being in the same position for a long time, off Neal, her cunt dripping combined juices onto his slack low hung balls and onto the edge of the chair. She swivelled, bending over to allow Norman to lean forward and licked her clean, while she crouched over young Neal and treated him to a wipe with her tongue. A new found sexual relationship was formed, more or less the same time the rain ceased.

Gemma photographed the Slow Worm she’d spotted and caught on the compost heap. Her textbooks informed her it wasn’t a snake, but it seemed related and sufficient for a bit of an essay. She wrote that it was a protected lizard species in the UK often mistaken for a snake. She loved the colouring of brown, copper, almost golden, with some black, dark brown sides and thin stripe on its back. The worm had a small head, and was very shiny, with a metallic sheen to it’s scales. She loved the benign appearance of it’s head, which mirrored it’s blunt tail. Holding it, the worm slithered over her skin, moving in a sensuous way creating strange feelings emanating from her sensitive hands and into her body. Smooth, searching, inquisitive - the worm triggered feelings she had experienced when handling fresh cucumbers and courgettes she’d picked from the greenhouse, their shape and length reminding Gemma of the sex lessons at school.

The shower was just the right temperature and Natalie stepped in, closing the door. She cleaned every surface, nook and cranny of her young body. Ken shot his lot at the soapy lathering of her tits, Frank edged ... with difficulty, saving his climax. Ken looked forward to a close-up still photograph, not sure when, but not to be shared with Frank.

One of the two men at the dogging pitch asked Sandra, if they paid, would she do something special for him ... and of course his black pal? As soon as she determined how much and it would not involve touching or fucking them, and they could use the cameras on their phones, she opened a door as wide as possible, climbing to the edge of the seat. She shoved the two ten pound notes offered into her bra, perched on the edge of the car seat, her feet splayed on the sodden grass. The men crouched low and close, not too close as the teenager held her smooth cunt walls aside, showing a wide gape and some of her vaginal membrane.

“I like the landing strip darlin’ “ snickered one.

“How long do we have to wait, it’s fucking pissing down. Are you going to piss then?” queried the black bloke impatiently, kicking his dog away from the rich odours from her crotch, almost counting off the minutes before the first dribble of urine spluttered out.

“After a shag it always takes me ages,” Sandra giggled.

Ergl sat in the car and checked his device.

“Sorry love you’re bleeding,” murmured the black dogger.

Sandra peered down between her chubby thighs.

“Oh fuck. That had to happen now ... shit!” she exclaimed. “Sorry”

“S’OK, I love it,” said the white observer. “Got it on video, the wife’ll love it too.”

A crimson drool escaped the ginger girl’s twat at first, then subsided to a less vivid, runnier red as Sandra’s piss flowed, the spray intermittent at first then a full on spout of yellow urine forcefully gushed horizontally away from the confines of the car, until it died to a dribble. More crimson syrupy looking discharge took over for a moment, until the men watched her swipe her snatch with her fingers, rubbed them on the side of the plastic seat she was slouched on, then she stood ... remembered something and reached behind her to grab a last tissue from a box and stuffed it between her legs, slipped down her skirt and bade them goodbye after promising she would have a shit for their cameras next time, but that would cost them extra.

The black chap muttered as he sauntered away. “Fucking dirty cow, period started, wiped her cunt with her fingers and then got in the front seat.”

“You didn’t have to do that San,” moaned Ergl. “Look how you’ve made the seat all wet.”

She gave him two fingers.

Frank’s orgasm happened, timed to perfection when he had the view up his young daughter’s mott and arse hole when she bent double to swathe her hair in a towel, his favourite view of any female. Her cheeks quivered as she towelled vigorously, patting her lightly pubed fleshy cunt, likening it to an overstuffed hamburger the way her inner labia was like the cheese overspill squeezed from the adjacent baps. Two curly crinkled lips intertwined. Her little thatch bothered her for a while, would Uncle Don go off her if she had hair down there? She decided to keep it on and if he objected she could still remove it and all would be fine. Easier to take it off rather than grow it.

Colin was pleased with how the purchase of the new detector went so smoothly and strolled through the mall having no need to browse, he hated shopping for inconsequential stuff, food, clothing and all that, the parcel wrapped and safe although a little cumbersome out of it’s fit for purpose state. He reached the bottom of the last escalator up to the car park feeling the light gusts of air wafting around the concrete edifice. A mother and two little girls in summery clothing, laden with parcels were excitedly ascending on the next two steps ahead of him. He was in no rush and happily settled behind the happy family. Mum was wearing a knee length, sheer white, flouncy skirt under a black, white polka dotted loose sleeved blouse and no hose. The wind caught the little girls dresses and lifted them both and Colin was amazed how much he could see of their underwear. One had cute pink, Peppa Pig patterned panties, the other a pair of black, skin tight shorts. Both giggled, knowing their dresses lifted in the inconsistent breeze The adult told them to stop fussing and fiddling.

Another stronger blast of air rushed round the near to top escalator and this time, the girl with the shorts experienced the same thing but so did the adult. Up went the wide swaying hem, providing Colin with a second or two glimpse her arse cheeks and a sliver of lacy white panties. He was delighted as many men would be to have this sudden accidental intimate view.

Natalie laid back on her bed, legs wide, knees up just showing a little of her bottom hole, her camera on a selfie stick. She’d combed her pubic hairs carefully, masked out a pimple right at the top of her pubes with a cream used for zapping zits and fiddled with her labia, undecided whether her pussy looked better open or closed, she decided slightly open. Should she put her fingers down there when she clicked the shutter? She decided not to, her nails hadn’t been shaped and painted as she liked and the middle one on her left hand was badly chipped. She’d moved a bedside lamp closer and angled it and finally held the stick up and took two shots.

Examining the shots quickly, it was her pussy, she was happy and excitedly winged them off over the ether to Uncle Don.

Gemma unearthed the Slow Worm from the wooden box of compost she’d created to keep it in overnight, borrowing from Colin, a pane of glass to keep it in on top having been interrupted in her initial exploration the previous day. Thrilled with it’s active wriggly movement, she carried it indoors, to make a video of it to finalise her essay, both her father and mother happy she was fulfilling all their expectations, studious and thoughtful – just look at the way she’d nurtured the worm. They were out together at a garden function.

In the bathroom, holding the slithering worm, studying it’s investigation of the bat where she thought it would like a smooth vast – to the worm expanse to move in, she kneeled, bent over the bath just to observe and video it. She wore a black sleeveless cut off blouse and sparkling white gym shorts. She shifted, to ease the pressure where her small, bra less tits crushed against the bath. She rubbed them. A frisson of pleasure coursed through her nubile body when she fingered her nipples ... Wow! What was that?

Tingles, down below, as her mother called their nether regions stirred little Gemma, tingles that needed attentions and it wasn’t an itch. Worrying that the worm would find it’s way out of the bath, she delicately plucked it up and went to her bedroom. Admiring it’s ceaseless activity, she held it up The thick silvery worm in her hand created more tingles in her crotch. She lay on her bed and fondled her cunt through her shorts. The worm wriggled and wriggled in her upturned hand. The tingles were stronger, so she pulled aside the wide legged loose hem of her shorts and fingered her fanny over a pair of sensible white, lace fronted panties.

Gemma’s arm was getting tired and weaker holding up the Slow Worm, gradually sinking lower, it’s cute blunt head swaying side to side inches above her crotch. Gemma pierced under the elastic of her shorts and dug into her pussy to at last pacify what had been a growing disturbance down below. The worm seemed to get more animated. Her pussy off sensuous odours, being warm and moist and she giggled to herself, maybe it was sensing it was back near it’s natural habitat. Daringly she lowered it further able to rest her aching limb on the bed, seeing the Slow Worm’s blunt rounded head seem to make a bee line for her pussy. It couldn’t go far as long as she kept an eye on it and had proved quick enough to halt it’s wavy meanderings, she mused.

The tingle became a delicious shiver of excitement somewhere inside the forbidden cavity, down there, her mother had told her never to pay any attention to but the worm was prodding at her mons, seeking the darker hotter innards. Gemma dare not let it find it’s way inside her, it had eyes and liked warm dark places, but wanted to experience what an alien thing would feel like and would it settle her curiosity. She picked it up, turned it round and prodded it’s blunt round tail into the soft delicate folds of her teenage twat. It was nice and she aimed it inside her soft juvenile folds, holding the worm firmly. It’s tail was less animated and she liked the heat of it, slowly penetrating her vagina. It wouldn’t seem to go far in, somehow coming against an obstruction, so she ceased, turning the worm and letting it do it’s own thing. She heard the front door slam, so tidied up and went downstairs to see her mum and dad.

Monday 19th June

Ken Thomas, aka Uncle Don viewed downloads on his computer and there to his delight and excitement was a full screen close-up of a special teenage cunt. He was so pleased to have had the opportunity to install the concealed cameras at her parent’s house, and find the girl’s upmarket device carelessly left on a table, sneaking into it and finding contacts. He would show this to his golfing buddy Frank at the weekend four balls tournament without disclosing his means, motives and the young lady’s contacts. Of course Frank wouldn’t be able to know that these reckless messages and images were his daughter, due to Ken’s IT expertise. To share intimate videos from each others homes was fantastic, but this sort of thing would be seen as grooming, not that he had any intentions of underhanded persuasion to shag the youngster, he just got high on the wherewithal of obtaining and viewing them.

He studied the shots again, admiring the curves and granny’s of her young snatch and yes ... that is a touch of moisture right at the bottom of the curls of her sweet pink labia. She must have been turned on when taking them.

Saturday 24h June

It rained for nearly a week until Eric and Colin met in the usual field and commenced their usual trek up and down sweeping the discs side to side. Now and then their machines bleeped and they investigated the easy to dig or scrape the sodden earth. Various trinkets, bullet cases and bits of metal were collected and noted, but nothing significant ... as usual.

Back at the cars, Colin showed Eric the parcel and recounted the story of his drive into town, the details of the purchase, his walk back to the car and the drive home. Eric listened dutifully bored.

“Hey Eric, you’d have laughed. On the escalator, I was behind this woman and two kids. There was the bit of a breeze you know, the forecasters said it would be a still calm day didn’t they? The kids, two little girls, might have been sisters or just friends and they were really excited because they’d been shopping and I heard them talking about some Lego and a new game. They were so excited it was good to listen, saved a boring ride up those two long escalators you know. You know the ones I mean, outside Waitrose, between Waitrose and the PoundShop ... you know?”

“Course I know you daft prat,” answered Eric, bored rigid now, wanting to go home and polish a Roman coin.

“It was surprising how busy everything was on a Sunday. Never happened in the old days. Well that breeze, it shouldn’t have been there according to Carol Kirkwood on the Beeb last night, you know 10.30 after the news,” Colin went relentlessly on. “It suddenly blew the mother’s skirt up, you know the one with the two little kids on that escalator and I saw her knickers ... would you believe?”

Suddenly Eric was all ears.

“Yeah what did you see you say? Her knickers?”

“Yes of course, and the little girls. Cute pink gingham skirts, white socks, lovely little Peppa...”

“No ... for fucks sake Colin, the mother’s ... the mother’s knickers what were they like?”

“I dunnon ... like knickers, white, lacy ... a nice pattern with a trim all round the edge. She had two spots just below her right cheek, looked a bit sore ... you know?”

“Any hair?” asked Eric. He got a puzzled quizzical look. “You see any of her hair, you know her pubes?”

He drew a blank and decided to go to the village hall.

Back at the hall, business proceeded in normal style until the proud moment when Norman, who was the chairman after all, unpacked and unveiled the Matrix M6 detector. The club members were excited, crowded round examining it, while Colin settled the remuneration and paperwork. He then revelled in the credit from the group while Eric pieced the intricate machine together. Enid fussed around in the kitchen making tea and opening the box of Jaffa Cakes she had specially bought to celebrate the grand opening of the new equipment. She served it round as all the members tried their hand at manipulating the detector, until close supervision from Norman.

The chairman unfolded the information packed with the Matrix M6, made loads of copies distributing them round and suggesting they all read though them. Eric wandered off with the new toy, explaining he was getting used to the weight and the sweep reach, sweeping it back and forth. Norman got annoyed and suggested he left the main hall as the machine was bleeping with all the metalwork, so Eric wandered into the foyer and looked for a larger space. The smaller hall was in use for the choir practice so he entered the kitchen. He didn’t mind the bleeps and circled the space. Enid wandering in to start washing up.

“Don’t mind me,” they both said in unison and chortled. “We should be in the choir,” chuckled Eric, puzzling over some unusual reading on the instrument display. Enid got on with her chores. The machine settled so Eric roamed the big space until Enid turned not knowing he was so close and skittered with little yelps over the circular detector. She apologised as an evil idea formed in his mind, Colin’s tortured tale about his trip to town very fresh in his brain. She got on with clearing the sink and worktops and Eric positioned himself behind her. The idea percolated as much as the special brew of coffee she was treating the members to, out of her own pocket, not telling Norman. Convinced he had achieved a modicum of success with the new toy after a few sweeps of the machine behind an innocent Enid, he returned to the club meeting.

Coffee, instrument discussions and Jaffa cakes finished, the group tidied up and dispersed to the Cock and Brush to toast a new beginning in the search for something down there. Later at home, Eric did some searching on the internet and purchased two identical very small items on line, not paying an awful lot of money. They were scheduled to arrive two days later.

Sunday 25th June

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