New Year 2014

I went to the kitchen where CC was still working with another of yesterday’s men (I think) and they made a cup of ginger and lemon tea (very advanced stuff – take one lemon and ginger tea bag and place is cup add boiling water and leave to infuse for about 5 minutes while you chat up woman). To be fair, they also gave me some little wafer biscuits with cream cheese on one, mushroom pate on another and a hot spicy one which I only nibbled to taste. Boxing day dinner would not be turkey and they asked if there was anything I liked and rattled off several dishes. They had a favourite dish of mine – trout and I opted for a salad to go with it despite the weather. From a list of available dishes; they also offered a venison casserole for dinner that evening which I accepted.

I sat alone in one of the lounges, reading and watching TV (boring during the day so don’t ask me what was on) until just before lunch then made my way to the restaurant

It was a large trout and delicious and although I had asked for the salad I also took a few buttered baby potatoes. I kept dessert simple with a fresh fruit salad and a spot of cream.

Lunch over, I felt I needed a breath of fresh air and the sun had just come out. It looked weak and watery but I thought a quick stroll around the hotel would blow any cobwebs away; the wind was strong enough to blow anything away but I set out anyway. I didn’t bother taking a coat as I didn’t feel like going back upstairs and I only planned on being out and back in perhaps 10 – 15 minutes. I comforted myself with the thought that a walk on Boxing Day is traditional and stepped out. I had not walked very far when I thought I might have been a little hasty in my planning, the wind was bitter and cutting through my jumper, I hurried towards the end of the building to obtain a little shelter. Although not one particularly troubled by either cold or heat, I was freezing. I tried two of the doors back into the hotel but they were locked and so pressed on suddenly not amused by my huge sprawling building. I rounded the next corner into what felt like an arctic gale and was about half way back, teeth chattering when I was struck by a burst of squally, ice cold rain. It was so cold it was painful and I felt close to tears as I re-entered the hotel. The heat inside was amazing but I was chilled and soaked and I knew my hair must look dreadful.

Reaching my room, I stripped off my clothes, turned on the shower and almost jumped under as soon as it was warm enough; I then turned the temperature up and stood under the beating water watching my skin go pink. It took a little while to drive the chill away but it was only then I then began to soap myself and just enjoy the sensation as the water continued to drum down on me. I eventually climbed out of the shower and took a huge fluffy towel from the heated rail and carefully dried myself with it.

Nicely warmed by the shower, I wrapped the towel around my waist and climbed onto the bed, piling the pillows around me and turned on the TV. I flicked through the channels and found an “adult channel”. Unable to resist I pressed the button. Usually in an hotel, you are expected to enter a pass number available from the desk; here the movie appeared immediately. The scene was a lesbian encounter between a blonde and a brunette which I found mildly titillating but clearly not that much as I fell asleep.

I awoke some time later to see a blonde woman open the door to a big Blackman with a huge toolbox – No! You dirty devils! That was not a euphemism! He had a huge box in which to carry the tools of his trade. Although to be fair he did have a large lunchbox as well and I don’t mean he had brought sandwiches. He was the plumber and he sorted out the blocked sing before she discovered she didn’t have the money to pay him. etc. etc.

She was giving him payment in kind, she had probably reached the Valued Added Tax, when there was a knock on the door.

I was still dozy after my nap and just called “Come In! The door is open!” without really considering my attire and its suitability for receiving guests.

The door opened and it was Gandhi. Sorry I haven’t explained! He was my first snooker instructor earlier - the skinny little old guy at the table( see “much older, one looked older than Uncle and Gupta, medium height, slim but with little hair and well wrinkled but he had a wicked twinkle in his dark eyes” in the pages above when I first met the men) to put it in more simple terms. He looked so much like Ben Kingsley in the film that I mentally tagged him as “Gandhi”.

He stopped I the middle of the room, it was a large room, and said quietly “Excuse me, Miss” Nobody has called me “Miss” since my last pupil before the Christmas Holiday and I giggled.

“Sorry! Is there a message or something?” I asked, stretching languorously and unknowingly loosing the knot on the towel at the same time. He was dry washing his hands repeatedly and he looked a little tormented as he gazed at my body then away.

He didn’t reply.

“Sorry! I didn’t hear that!” I said after a pause

“We were wondering...” He didn’t complete the question and I said.

“We?”

He turned and called a name and the door opened again and in walked the little round older guy. He stood next to Gandhi and I suppressed a giggle when the figure ‘10’ popped into my mind unbidden.

“OK gentlemen! May I ask what it is you were both wondering?”

“We wondered whether we are included in the arrangements. You know! With you?”

I thought a little tease would be fun, so I asked “What did Uncle say about the arrangements?”

“He said you were a wonderful warm hearted woman who was very well known to himself and his family. He said you would be staying over the holiday and thought you might befriend us all”

I thought “Wow! Befriend! That’s a new one!”

He continued “He told us that as far as the hotel’ facilities were concerned, we should deny you nothing.”

Beside him, ‘O’ nodded vigorously

Gandhi added. “Uncle stressed that your decision was final if there was anything or anyone you rejected. I wasn’t certain in the games room as to where I stood with all the younger ones there.”

He waved generally in the direction of ‘O’ and added “We spoke over lunch and decided to ask you whether you would honour us by including us despite our advanced years.”

I smiled adding “Thank you for asking. I find you all charming and as Uncle invited me to keep ALL his staff here company, that includes the two of you.”

I paused for them to take in what I had said.

“Now! On occasions I will start something but as with the snooker this morning, I will respond positively if I am enjoying something. If I do not want to do something or possibly not at that time, I will say so. Does that answer your question?”

“Oh yes, Miss!” they chimed.

I smiled and said “You must call me Mo!”

Now! Seeing that you are here and so am I; would you like to make a start? Think about what you would like to do for your first visit.” Their eyes sparkled, they obviously hadn’t thought of more than once. The volume on the TV had been turned down low but there was increase in sound as the blonde on TV was now being groped by two black guys. Gandhi moved quickly up to me and stroked my breast and then my inner thigh and the towel fell open sowing my neat little patch of blonde hair. I looked across at ‘O’ and said “and what would you like to do? You can wait until later if you don’t want to join in.

He moved to the foot of the bed. “Can I watch first?” he asked.

I said “I don’t mind, it is up to your friend here,” Gandhi just turned and nodded assent then licked his finger and gently slipped it into me.

My legs opened to the stimulus and I closed my eyes – a not infrequent sequence of events in my sexual responses I have noticed. I sensed rather felt him bend to kiss my mouth, His breath smelled faintly and pleasantly of curry and garlic and his tongue seemed to be tasting me before moving down my neck. He had now inserted his thumb inside me while his finger toyed with my rear entry. He took his time with my breasts and I heard the two of them whispering but decided I was more interested in what he was doing with his hand; until that is, his hand and mouth met and I was full of fingers and tongue, back and front. The two of them were whispering again as I twitched and writhed on Gandhi’s hand. I felt movement on the bed and suddenly Gandhi’s body, miraculously stripped, lay on my belly and he began to rapidly dip his penis into me then with a audible effort pushed it home. He nibbles my breasts and neck and begins to explore my mouth again. He must have done a good job with his fingers as my body attempts the impossible task of sucking in air from the wrong end and I soar into a smooth rocket take-off with no raw edges as he jerks to his own terminus. I may have squealed, I don’t know.

The two of them were chattering again and my body was turned unresisting and without protest onto my side. ‘O’ – I knew it was ‘O’ pulled me into a sideways doggy and then a sizable ‘dong’ entered my pussy from the rear. It was quite nice and gentle really. I had to move his hand away when he tried to stimulate my clit but I let him play quite happily with my breasts. They spoke again and ‘O’ said “OK”. There was movement on the bed and it was Gandhi, nudging my lips with his helmet. I opened and let him in. It was difficult to exercise my usual skills of fellatio as he anted to move too much, himself but we managed. ‘O’ was first with quite a loud wail and he must have been celibate for some considerable time as I was suddenly awash. Gandhi was considerably longer and his second emission fairly small.

I guessed they were finished and this was confirmed when they climbed off the bed and began dressing thanking me profusely. I stretched languorously, partially for effect (it has got several men back in the mood before now) but also because I had that cat got the cream feeling.

When they left I lay there for a while; sated by two lonely old men and humming noiselessly in my head. On the TV, a mother who looked about 25 was telling her son’s friend who looked about the same age that her son was out but would he like some iced tea. I switched to another channel and went and run a hot, deep bath.

I had already decided to “select” VJ tonight, unless of, course he did a disappearing act again. There were still, I think, four that haven’t had their Christmas bonus yet. I might also have been rash in saying “first time” to Gandhi and ‘O’. Despite my initial shock at the number I had unthinkingly consented to “entertain”; fifteen no longer seemed as daunting as Day 2 drew towards its close. Will they all expect second, third and fourth helpings in the days to come (oops)?

I slowly submerged my head beneath the hot water before emerging again covered by the thick foam created by the bubble bath. I rinsed it off and grabbed a another huge towel to dry myself and then I put on one of the thick, soft, white dressing gowns provided by the hotel; I wrapped a hand towel around my head and picked up my Kindle and spread myself on the big settee in my lounge having packed cushions behind me; had a desultory search through the Boxing Day schedule on TV and left it on a channel which was playing some pleasant music. I half read; half listened to the TV, half drifted in pleasant reverie

I felt wonderful!

One would think that I should feel like hell, but I felt wonderful. From outside, I could just hear the muted keening of an icy wind. But inside the room was warm. On TV, some male singer with a nice voice was singing a slow dreamy ballad about love to his girl, I suppose, although you can never be sure.

I entertained the thought of a nice glass of wine and although I knew the mini-bar was at my disposal, I have always been reluctant to use them after I was told by a friend of mine how a bottle of brandy she took from one, did not contain brandy (Don’t ask!)

As if in reply to the thought, there was a knock on the door. I called out “Come in!” and the door opened revealing a laden trolley with an ice bucket and the top of a bottle of champagne poking up. As the trolley came closer, I could see covered trays and a coffee pot.

The man pushing the trolley said “VJ sent us up to offer some refreshments and to discover if there is anything else you would like.” I looked behind him to see two others removing covers and another opening the champagne.

“I think VJ must be a mind reader.” I said giving a quite uncharacteristic girly squeak as the champagne corked popped.

“It is pleasant to have a little company; will you share this with me?”

The grins and knowing looks was indication enough that I would need another shower or bath some time later.

The trolley was stocked with little cakes and sandwiches and, too be honest, my mouth watered in anticipation. I sipped from the glass of champagne with my legs still stretched out along the settee, one of the men perched on the edge of the settee while two brought up and the other proffered the plates we indicated and sampled the range of delicacies ranging from little sandwiches containing smoked salmon with cream cheese, wafer thin roast beef with English Mustard and the like. There were tiny meringues split with slices of strawberry and cream between two halves, little brandy and chocolate cakes – it was gorgeous!

With a glass of champagne in one hand and a little plate of goodies in the other, the two nearest fed me from my plate while my glass was never allowed to empty. I ended with a small glass of coffee with brandy (ironically taken from the mini-bar) and a cream top. The meal had been delicious and, ignoring the calorie count, almost as light as a feather. They took my glass and plate from my hands and the trolley was moved away.

“Thank you! Gentlemen!”. I said “and thank VJ for his thoughtfulness. They nodded. I paused for effect.

“Would you like to stay a while to collect your Christmas Bonus? They looked puzzled for a moment. I rolled my eyes and said “Me! You daft lot!” Comprehension was a little slow but the one sitting by my side said something in foreign and the other three got the message. The one by my side slid down away from me and still sitting, turned towards me; putting his hand on my dressing gown covered thigh while the others moved closer.

I didn’t move but fixed my eyes on his, they were beautiful eyes, large and black like bottomless pools. You can drown in eyes like that!

His hand began to move slowly as if expecting a reproof, He parted the bottom of the dressing gown and briefly stroked the skin he exposed, his eyes still locked on mine. One of the other men spoke to him in an urgent tone and without moving his gaze replied softly and gave a little laugh. I wondered about the exchange but dismissed the thought as his hand stroked the flesh just above the knee. He reached the material of the dressing gown again and reached up to release the belt with a tug; then moving his hand first one way, then the other letting the gown fall either side revealing my nude body accompanied by an enthusiastic whispering from the others.

His fingers brushed my little patch of hair and when he probed me gently our gaze broke as my eyes closed. I sensed the others move even closer when he widened my legs and his fingers opened me up to their gaze. I am fairly certain that the comments were fairly coarse and if I had been able to hear, the men’s breathing rate had probably reached audible levels. I had lost interest in their reactions when his mouth closed on me and what felt like an improbably long and almost prehensile tongue wriggled its way into my depths and there was a rumble of approval as my back arched and pushed my sex into his greedy mouth accompanied by a loud “Aaaah!” of pleasure.

This was going well.

I confess I was panting a little when he stood pulled me down the settee onto my back and quickly climbing between my legs, pushed fully into me; his pace was hurried and I tried to slow him but he continued as if pumping up the tyres of his bicycle. I knew he could not keep that killing action for too long but what happened next was a little surprising.

He suddenly said something sounding urgent and pulled out of me. I started to protest but a fresh man was suddenly weighing down on me and I gurgled with contentment as he came up to a nice speed and I felt my sexual synapses slip into synchronicity and my hips responded by driving him deeper. Although a slightly different rhythm there was a continuity which stoked my fires and the heat built and built and...

The next man took his turn.

He was rougher than the first two and for some reason my body seemed to like it. It required no thought on my part; my hips changed gear and slammed back at him and there was a delicious stinging, aching, thud and stab of sheer ecstasy building and that is when I started getting noisy. An internal cable from my heart to my vagina tightened making my back arch and throb. I squealed as the cable extended itself to my jaw and dragging my head backwards. It whiplashed along my legs and I screamed as my toes turned back on themselves. Molten fire seared through my veins, igniting nerves and locking muscles. The penis in me seemed immense and my womb tried to seize it and drink it dry but only succeeded in sending a ball of pain that I didn’t want to stop, expanding, pulsing and searing into muscles and tendons locking my body into a pulsating emitter of pure sensation and I quivered and rocked as thrust after thrust added and spread the exquisite agony that gripped me. I heard screams and knew it must be me then just as I thought, not that I thought, there could be no more they changed again and my tears flowed. He tried to stop my mouth with his then to stop his penetration of my soul but my legs sprang round his thighs pulling him deeper and harder.