May’s B&B, Pt. 01

May’s B&B, Part 1

Five years ago, my old man’s wasn’t very good. He’d had the hard word from his specialist at the hospital and told mom he wanted them to move to France for his last few months, so my sister, who lives there, found them a house to rent near her. Actually Sis spoke to me and I financed the buying of a nice place she found in the village she lives in.

Today, my old man is still alive and kicking, mom has grown to love the place, my sister has someone to look after, my brother says he will retire there in a few years, and being 500 miles apart has prevented the old man and me from killing each other.

Now, five years down the road, mom wants all the stuff that they left behind in Doncaster. They are finally selling the house I grew up in. It’s no secret that I hate Doncaster; it’s a shithole without any hope.

I hate it with a passion. But I am making the journey back. A Journey that, to be honest, I’d sworn I’d never make again. I had a job to do for my mom, though: pack her and dad’s stuff, then supervise the start of her piano’s move to France, I would also remove my dad’s three motorbikes to my home in the middle of Wales.

My younger brother was still working, so the job fell to me. I was happy to do it; it drew a line under the town I grew up in. To help me with this task, I hired a removal firm. For a few quid more, I could have had them pack, and I could have stayed at home.

My mom has a thing about her piano, though. It didn’t matter how good the guys who moved it were; mom wanted me there to supervise the loading of it.

The three French guys who moved the piano were on top of their game. Their boss took one look at it and said, “Ah, a Bosendorfer.” He sat on the stool and played. My mom is fairly good. However, to my ear, this guy sounded concert-standard. When he finished, he said, “Five years?” Meaning how long it had stood.

“Yes, I said.”

“For that time, the tune is very good.” I assumed he meant its state of tuning. “It is your mothers? I will tune it for her when it has stood in its new place for a while.” I thought Mom would be nervous about that; I’d better let her know this guy is top-drawer.

Now I pretty much knew the piano was in good hands. I relaxed a bit. I knew the removal man, Graham; he was a rugby contact of mine. I knew he would do a good job, but my mom wanted me to make sure all the other things were taken care of. The long and short of this is that I had to stay a day or two in Doncaster.

I gave Taylor, my best friend ever, a call. His wife answered, I was a bit jealous of Taylor and his wife. “When they married, she was what lads our age called a right dirty cow. Her stated ambition was to “shag Taylor to death, find a toy boy or two with big dicks, and live off his pension”.

Actually, they adored each other, and I’m sure they were put on this earth for each other’s benefit. Just talking to Jill, Taylor’s wife, gave me a hard on, I didn’t have to worry about what to do with her. I was allowed to flirt; nay, it was required. I also knew if I went too far, I’d get a knee in the bollocks. Not a subtle retiring girl was Jilly

As my poor luck would have it, they were going to be away in late March, so they couldn’t put me up. Jill knew of only one place, while we were chatting, she suggested “a nice place.” It’s a B&B in Wheatley, Ella-May’s place; you should try it, she advised, she’s a shit hot cook said Taylor; it will be clean and tidy added Jill, she will probably give you a scrub while you are there Taylor said laughing.

I called the number Jill gave me; yes, Ella May had a vacancy. She gave me the address and said, I guess you know where that is. What time will you get here? About twoish, I said. I’ll let you know if anything changes. Then she said that it would be nice to see you again. That puzzled me a bit. I don’t think I’ve ever met an Ella-May; I just let it go.

So I pulled up outside the address I’d been given. Wheatley ain’t the best suburb of Doncaster, but it’s far from the worst. Even so, my Merc looked a little incongruous parked there. I was shuffling bags and stuff in the back when I heard the same soft Irish lilt behind me. Without the distortion of the phone, I recognised the voice right away. It belonged to the wife of my old rugby club’s bore, drunk, and all-round arsehole, all rolled into one.

Ohh Fucking No, I thought. When I turned around, it was her alright, but the woman in front of me, while looking well nourished, was far from the woman that was married to Mick, the club bore. “May!” was all I could manage. She switched on a thousand-watt smile I’d never seen before. I was stunned.

I immediately noticed there was no wedding ring and obviously stared a bit at her bare finger, don’t worry I gave him the boot; he isn’t welcome around here anymore. Do you miss him I asked, like a dose of the pox she replied

I had always found her attractive. She has big boobs, a big bum and a nice trim waist. Pretty in a big Irish farm girl sort of a way. Her man would never dance with her at the club dances. I loved jiving with her she was energetic. The only girl at the club who would go aerial. She was quite athletic kept up her momentum in the dance so she was easy to lift.

When I was talking to Taylor about her I called her “Tonka” they were a brand of toy trucks, tractors and such like. The slogan was “Tonka Trucks, big strong toys for big strong boys!”

When she smiled like that, she was beautiful. A big girl but beautiful, she was my ideal woman. She wore a little makeup and a pair of pearl earrings. A v-neck sweater, cut-offs, and flat sandals. “Fuck me, May, you’re gorgeous.” When she walked into a room, her tits got in there five seconds before the rest of her. “What happened?”

“Oh, it’s a bit of a story; I’ll tell you later. Come inside and have a coffee.” I shut the car and followed a big, beautiful arse into her home.

“Do you want to see upstairs?” she said.

“I can see plenty of them from behind you, May.”

She giggled a bit. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “Do you want to see it all? I always liked you. You used to be shy. I wanted to pop your cherry.”

The best I could manage was, “Yes, please.” I was still pretty shy. She took my hand, pulled me into an embrace, said, “This is long overdue,” and gave me a huge French kiss.

She pulled me up the stairs and into her bedroom. Her bed was huge–a big, solid wooden job. She turned me around; there was a poster on the wall. It was I think, an old Sex Pistols poster. It shows the torso of a woman in a black bra and pants, flexing a school cane in her hands. “Do you like my bum, Rick?”

“Err. I erm.”

Whack. “Do you like my bum?”

Where the fuck did that come from? “Wow, please don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Someone does. Just look at your cock. It was straining against my Levis. Now answer this very carefully. Do you want to stop now? If you do, I’ll show you my B&B room, or do you want to stay in here with me?”

“Before you answer, I have to tell you that I am a bitch of a lover. I will make you regret bits and pieces. I will make you love more. I’ll make you beg to be my little subby? You’re a secret submissive, aren’t you Rick?” She grabbed my arse; this is just as nice as it always was. I didn’t realise I wanted to give it a good spanking back then. Then she upped the pressure in my pants, saying, “I do now”.

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“Well, first of all, that spanking is something we both want to happen.”

Oh, why do you want to spank me May”

“Oh, the best reason of all, lust, pure lust”. She was still squeezing my bum.

A better question is why do you want me to smack your bum?

I don’t May.

Then, baby, why haven’t you run a mile, Why are you still staring at my tits wondering if I will let you kiss them but most of all why have you got a huge bulge in your jeans”

I’m going to make nearly all your fears and most of your hopes come true. I will make you happy, I’ll make your little man very happy and you will make me very, very happy, so happy I’ll probably scream. You will scream as well but for a different reason So that’s enough talk. Do you want to stay?”

“Err”.

Whack. Whack: “Just to show you what a bitch I am, every time you dither or argue, I will double the strokes you get with this crop. Do you like this crop Rick? I do.

“No May.”

Whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, whack. “I was being kind then; two offences! It should have been 16, shouldn’t it boy”,

“Err, yes, May. Err Why”.

“Have you ever played plaid Female Domination games?”

“No never.”

“Have you ever fantasised, now be honest?”

“Yes May, all the time.”

“Good boy, do you want to play with me?”

“Oh God, yes, please.”

She sat on a chair by her dressing table. “Right then, over my knee now!”

I went to lie across her lap.

Don’t be dull, boy; pants down.

I undid my belt and dropped my Levi’s.

May sighed. “Still being dull I’ll be adding strokes with my crop on your bear lilywhite bum if you don’t sharpen your ideas boy?”

I dropped my boxers.

“Ooh, it’s bigger than I remember. Rick! She said, she held my cock like it was a precious thing. I do like the rings.

“I got them…”

“Tell me later,” May interrupted.

“I’ve never had one anywhere near this size. Well I have but the bastard was too drunk to remember! You are going to be paying for that for a long, long time if I have my way”

“I’m Sorry, I truly…”

“Shhh I’m teasing, you were so drunk, I Could not believe you got it hard for me. May started to sob; I wanted your baby, after you went to sleep I lay on my back so none of your seed dribbled out. I wanted it in me. You started snoring so I tickled your ear so you turned towards me. Your hand rested on my belly, I lifted it onto my boob. Then while you were asleep you squeezed it. I came again when you did that. I am a slapper Rick; only for you though, and only if you want me. Ill never let you down. If you want me I’m yours; just for you, your girly toy. Just wind me up and I’ll be anything you want!