Lewis and Carol Ch. 01

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The coach from Christchurch to Blenheim was fully booked and in helping two women with their heavy old-fashion leather suitcases had delayed Lewis Hall’s bid to occupy a prime seat.

“Thank you kind sir,” called one of the women; they, also being late to board, were seated opposite each other in aisle seats near the back.

Lugging his back-pack towards the unpopular rear seats near the stairwell to the washroom, Lewis spotted a seat, or what was left of it, as the window occupant seemed to have taken up more than his half. Hmmm, so much for the thought of holiday romance commencing with this bus trip.

“Over here, young man.”

On the other side of the coach a brown-haired woman wearing brown reflective sunglasses was beckoning.

Okay, this looked more promising but perhaps she had seen him assisting with luggage and was attempting to secure personal portage.

“The aisle or my window seat?” Mrs Brown-Dressed in Black said brightly. With brown hair and those noticeable sunglasses she should have been dressed in brown and would have looked very cute, but then do chic dressed women travel by coach.

“The window seat would be grand.”

“Sorry, taken,” she grinned. “We can swap later.”

Oh, I’m sitting beside the coach comedian, Lewis groaned to himself. And what will we swap later – spit or other bodily fluids? Not likely, she’s middle-aged.

“Hi, Mallory Stokes, from Stoke-on-Trent, West Midlands, England.”

Her handshake was surprisingly soft and Lewis realised she was not as old as he’d first thought – many of the wrinkles looked to be sun ageing, the woman was as tanned as a tropical native.

“Hullo, Mallory. I’m Lewis Hall from Kangaroo Island, South Australia.”

“Oh, I know where that is,” said Mallory. “I was there last time when I was out from the UK two years ago. Whereabouts on the island?”

“I work as an interpretive officer, probably better known to you as a ranger. At present I operate in the Dudley Peninsula/American River area.”

“I know it, isn’t it a small world?”

“Yeah, I suppose it is. After all I’ve been to Stoke-on-Trent – went as a boy with my mother as she was big into ceramics then.”

“Mrs Hall? Not Doris Hall of Adelaide?”

“Yeah, you know mum?”

“I know of her, she was the post-war authority on ceramics in this part of the world through to the 1970s.”

“I guess then you are into ceramics”

“Associated with the industry, I’m a historian and lecturer. That’s why I’m on this coach. I stay tonight in Blenheim and then go on to Nelson to participate as a guest presenter at guild-sponsored workshops for potters.”

They chatted for a while and during a pause Mallory drifted off to sleep. A little later she stirred and leaned into Lewis’ shoulder, pulling his arm around her. He found himself cupping her breast, a nice firm breast it seemed; she made no attempt to shake his hand away. His penis stirred slightly as if sensing romance was on the way.

Lewis fell asleep once they coach had left the city behind and was heading towards the coastal town of Kaikoura. According to his travel information they would have lunch there. Tourists gathered there to go offshore to see whales.

Lewis awoke from his doze to find Mallory struggling to unzip him. The cheek of the woman, she could have asked! At least she had the finesse to have them partly covered with her pillow,

“Hi, you’re awake to find me fiddling,” she grinned, no longer wearing her sunglasses. “I’m taking a risk I know, but it’s calculated because you were working my nipple sometime ago. I feel like playing.”

Slightly embarrassed, Lewis felt her get into a good rhythm.

“Are you going to shoot it all over your clothes, and probably mine?”

“No, Bursa Escort I’ll just slide down and gobble you at the right moment. Those two people opposite are the only ones with a good view, and they are dozing. I’ll be discrete.”

“Do you do this often?”

“Often, yes, but to strangers no. This is only my second time I’ve been so bold.”


“Don’t you take risks?”

“Er, yes.”

“I bet,” she giggled, looking up at Lewis’ flushed face.

Mallory burrowed her other hand in and gently squeezed and bounced his balls, causing Lewis to get up to speed with his heavy breathing.

Actually, though Lewis, he should be grateful; she’s actually very good. Some dames give you the impression they’re stripping off layers of skin in their quest for cum.

“I’m about to spray?” he whispered. “Your hand is soft and very talented.”

She flashed him a smile and swooped down, Lewis staying still to avoid excessive movement attracting the attention of their dozing neighbours across the aisle.

Cool lips slid over his cock-head, and then retreated a little and her tongue flicked around presumably for pre-cum. Mallory squeezed his balls a little harder and obediently they tightened to precipitate their role in the flow of fluids.

Lewis was unable, of course, to feel his cum entering her mouth – but he could feel it leaving the core of his cock. He tried to image what her cunt would look like and that generated another gush, he was certain of that.

Seconds later Mallory’s head bounced up beside his that was already turned in her direction, his shoulder helping to conceal their near-public display of illicit sexuality. Cum dripped from her face and her eyes were bright and smiling. Oh no, he thought – she’s going to tongue me with her mouth awash with my own cum.

That’s exactly what she did. What the fuck women see in this obscene exchange of cum is a real mystery to me, mused Lewis, with a little grimace, quite overlooking his fondness for cunt lapping. At such times with that job done, he’d often want an immediate resumption in tongue-around-tongue kissing with his lady friend.

“Did you enjoy the taste of that?” asked Mallory, as if attempting to assess Lewis’ boundaries.

“It was okay, but I must say I prefer oysters.”

“Here, let my wipe your mouth – you’ve got a tell-tale track of oyster juice,” she giggled. “I almost need a towel to clean my face!”

“Here, use my handkerchief. I reckon that one falls within my best ten ever; you have such a soft touch and didn’t allow a drop to spill on my shorts. Thank you. Here, allow me to wipe your mouth.”

As soon as he had her face cleaned, Lewis kissed Mallory thoroughly.

As Lerwis leaned back into his seat she looked at him expectantly.

“Now what?” she asked sounding innocent, slowly pulling her dress up towards her hips.

Lewis hastily said they ought to take a break. They’d have a half-hour stop at Kaikoura so perhaps they could wander off and later grab some sandwiches and drinks on the way back to the coach.

“You’ve got a nice cock, a strong one too.”

Lewis turned red, his ears burned. That was one of the nicest things a woman had ever said to him sexually, even his wife Pam was not into praising his meat stick. Grunting an acknowledgement, he wondered if there would be something coming up to prompt him to return the compliment.

During a break in conversation, Lewis wondered if Mallory were married. He decided not to ask: there seemed little sense in reminding Mallory that she had a husband – not when he had full-on adultery in mind. Hell, if coach trips were normally this rewarding, he’d travel by them more often – when motoring by himself he had only the radio/CD player Bursa Bayan for amusement.

“Are you coming?” asked Mallory as they alighted and she turned to walk through the village. Her sly grin made Lewis wonder if she’d meant was he cumming? She had a nice touch of humour conversationally. He wondered why she seemed so sluttish because she was rather refined in other ways. Her clothes were expensive and the sunglasses looked as though they would cost the price of his airfare to New Zealand.

“I’m suppose you are surprised that I should behave so brazenly to a stranger, especially to a younger man,” she said, lifting up her sunglasses to look at him. “You’ve already judged me as a slut, perhaps?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of thinking that,” lied Lewis. “You’ll have your reasons.”

“Good boy, that’s very perceptive of you.

“I travel the world in my work six months of the year – mainly to China, Japan, North America, Hong Kong and each couple of years or so to Australia and New Zealand.”

“What, people in other countries pay you to talk to them about pots and glazes?”

“Well, I am considered to be an international authority, but my own people contribute financially as knowledge and outreach generally is a two-way street and very often I do return with very valuable artefacts.”


“Yes, really. But you have diverted me. Look, there’s a quiet little area up ahead.

“The people I associate with on my travels usually don’t expect me to knobble their spouses or partners, nor do they give my much time to go hunting. So usually I travel in a constant state of sexual frustration. Today when I saw you, blonde and blue-eyed although rather skinny and acting like a super-hero helping those two motherly women with their luggage, I knew I just had to try to get my satisfaction from you.

“I hope that’s not too predatory for your sensitivities.”

“No, actually it’s making me even more interested in you,” Lewis replied truthfully, taking her hand.

“How old are you, may I ask?”

“You impertinent pup. How old do you think?”

“Oh Gawd, I walked into that one. Well, my first impression was fifty-three but when I got a closer look I thought no, much younger. Later the soft touch of your hands confirmed my re-assessment, so my guess is forty-five.”

“Bravo! It’s forty-four, and that’s the truth. My husband Clive and I spend each summer in our holiday home in Spain and I love the sun and accept that it is turning me into a dried prune as there is something lacking in my skin pigmentation. But then I never was one to deny my excesses.

“And you are?”


“I love cradle-snatching!”

They stepped down off the highway into a grove of trees.

“New Zealanders would call this a patch of bush whereas in Australia we loosely call the countryside the bush, the more desolate bush becomes the outback. All of these trees and vines and ferns are native to New Zealand though like almost all species they link back to the original flora and fauna gardens of eden of Africa and South America.”

“Very instructive and appreciated, but right now I have this great desire for some sort of release.”

“At your service, ma’am. Look, we don’t have much time. I was going to catch a late sailing of the ferry from Picton to the North Island this evening. What say I cancel and instead bed you tonight?”

“Oh I say, how romantic. Come here big boy. You’ll have time for a long suck.”

Mallory sat in a bed of dried leaves, her back against a tree truck. She pulled her dress up over her hips and gently bit the top of Lewis’s ear as she lifted her hips to allow him to remove her panties.

Laying back and staring at the choppy sea crashing against Escort Bursa the very black rocks, Mallory sighed as Lewis’ tongue worked its way along her stocking-less thighs and eventually reached her shaven mons.

A finger – his – dealt with her labia and the tongue began its real journey. She wriggled pleasurably as his probing tongue came back out of the depths to introduce itself to her clit, before bending into its task with well-directed dexterity. This young man knew his cunt! Correction – but she was giggling too much to express her thoughts about the ownership of the cunt more accurately.

The familiar feeling gripped Mallory much too early; that did not surprise her as she knew she was feeling ‘hot’. As she began to orgasm she pushed against Lewis’ head, wanting the flow to enter his mouth; she was pleased to feel no resistance, so obviously he was remaining on station.

At last his head popped up, juices plastered all over his mouth and a large drip hanging on the end of his nose. Mallory licked her lips, waiting for the big, wide-opened mouth that would bring tastes of herself into her mouth.

She watched horrified as Lewis pulled out his handkerchief and cleaned his face. What a waste!

Lewis looked at his watch and leered.

“Should we? You came so quickly that we’ve got time for a quickie. Want it?”

Mallory’s reply was to open her legs wide and look up at him under lowered eyelids. Her eyes glowed.

Lewis stepped out of his shorts, stroking his cock to greater stiffness.

In it went like a bayonet into its scabbard. Although Mallory was half-sitting, Lewis was pleased with this position, as her weight bore down, providing increased friction, and he was able to kiss her easily as he pounded away. One or both knees slipped a bit on the leafy mat, but he found he could the wayward knee back into position as he thrust forward into his beloved woman of the moment.

Lewis was aware that a teaspoon of cum is considered by authorities of such things to be a better than average total ejaculation, but that did not prevent the lie.

“Soon I’ll be pumping a gallon of cum into your sopping wet pussy, you slut,” he growled.

The response was electrifying. Mallory’s whole body shook, she moaned, but at last began pushing back against him.

Lewis rimmed a finger around the exterior of her butt-hole and she rimmed his straight back, causing his bottom jaw to drop, roaring of blood to sound in his ears and his cock to swell and start firing.

“Ooooh, ooooh. Nice,” she crooned.

“Ugh, ugh, Ummmm. Oh boy,” was the response.

They lay catching their breath, in peace, until Mallory said reluctantly, “The coach?”

“Oh shit,” swore Lewis, withdrawing with a plop, and rising to his feet a little unsteadily. “Fuck, what a mess.”

“Let’s use your underpants.”

“Okay, ladies first.”

“That should be in the singular as only one lady is present and then she’s no lady.”

“No time to talk – we’ve got to wipe and run,” urged Lewis, looking at his watch, his eyes bulging.

They ran to the coach, hearing its air horns blasting.

“Sorry!” gasped Mallory to the driver, who returned a knowing grin.

They make the long walk to their seats, enduring the mainly friendly grins of the males and the mainly indifferent and even frigid stares of women passengers.

“What kept you so long, buddy,” said the burly man on the seat opposite them, as Mallory stood aside to allow her lover to take the window seat; she’d said on the run back to the coach that he’d earned the window seat.

“Er, we were on a nature walk,” came the attempted explanation from the professional natural habitat interpretative officer.

“Oh yeah?” boomed the big mouth to the whole coach. “Then why are your underpants hanging out of your pocket?”

Mallory slipped into her seat giggling, raining kisses on to Lewis to remove the stunned look on his face.

“Let’s go to bed very early this evening,” she whispered.

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