Foss
Wallyfoss@btinternet.com
Fold in the Hills 2
foldint2.txt
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mf, mmf, ff, novel

CHAPTER TWO

The telephone sounded shrilly in the sitting room of Penmawr Cottage. Sarah was
in the steepest part of the garden, trying to photograph a grey squirrel who was
sitting nervously on a fallen branch of an ash tree and gnawing at a small pine
cone he had found nearby.

She had been trying to get its picture for some time and, just as she thought
the distance and composition acceptable, the telephone sounded and the little
creature bounded down towards the stream and shot up a tall spruce.

Sarah climbed the steep bank, hurried round the cottage and grabbed for the
phone and then listened, struggling to catch breath, as Olwen asked if she'd
come down to the farm as she had something she wanted to discuss with her.

The two hadn't seen each other since they had spent the night together, for
Olwen had shouted her goodbye and driven away while Sarah had been in the shower
and she'd phoned later to say that she had to visit an aunt over the weekend,
but that she'd be in touch when she returned. Sarah had tried to put the events
of that night from her mind though in reality she had thoroughly enjoyed the
experience but, being Sarah, and feeling rather guilty about the whole thing,
she had put it down to her loneliness, William's absence and the amount of red
wine they had both consumed.

She tidied round, clearing the breakfast things and took a chicken breast from
the freezer to defrost in time for her evening meal and, on the drive down to
the farm she thought again how uncomfortable Tim had sounded on the phone when
she had telephoned him on Sunday.

She had needed to contact him to check on their current account as her Road Tax
was due and she needed to take the car in for its 40,000 mile service and was
also anxious to know if she'd had any replies from several full time posts she
had applied for with the local primary schools around York, who had advertised
for teachers to begin in September.

Tim had been rather terse and, when she had asked whether it was a bad time for
her to call, had been surprisingly unsure of what to say and at times almost
incomprehensible. Then he'd almost cut her off in mid sentence, assuring her
that nothing was wrong and he would call her back sometimes during the next few
days.

Olwen was in the kitchen when she arrived and they eyed each other shyly at
first, but soon the ice was broken and she rambled on about her old aunt and
what a wonderful woman she was for her age.

Later Sarah worked in the office, filling in and checking time sheets, dealing
with the little correspondence she needed to do, and was about to open the
receipt book and bring the accounts up to date when Olwen called her to the
kitchen for coffee.

The sat opposite each other across the large pine table and Sarah, seeing the
twinkle in Olwen's eye, forgot her awkwardness and soon the pair were laughing
and talking away fifty to the dozen.

"Well, was it so bad?" asked Olwen.

"No. Of course not. In fact it was wonderful. But it was a unique situation
wasn't it? I mean........you do prefer men, don't you?"

"Oh God, yes! Absolutely! But then again you know what they say - variety and
spice and such things."

"You're terrible, Olwen Jones," said Sarah, blushing.

"I'm not so bad, am I?"

Sarah looked at her and couldn't tell if she was serious or simply mocking her
and frowned, not knowing how to respond.

"Now, my friend, the reason you're here today is because I'm giving a party on
Saturday night and of course you're invited and of course I need your help."

"Party? Who for?"

"Well, William will be home hopefully, and we usually give a party for our
friends and workers on the farm at this time of year, before we get taken over
by market problems, agricultural shows, Ministry visits, farm returns and so on
and so on. I also think it's about time you were introduced to everyone and got
to know some of those voices on the phone you have to deal with."

"How many are invited?" asked Sarah, thinking that it sounded like a lot of
people.

"About thirty or so for a buffet supper, but most will go by about half past ten
and then a few will stay overnight, either because they live too far away or
they like to have a drink, stay for breakfast and go home the next day. I may
want you to put a couple of people up if you don't mind, nobody special, it's
just that I could be a bit short of space. You don't mind, do you?"

Sarah wasn't sure about that, but it would be churlish to refuse her friend.

"No. No. of course not. Who did you have in mind?" and she suddenly blushed
crimson and blurted, "Olwen, this isn't your idea of fixing me up with someone
is it? If it is, no thanks. My life is fine as it is and I don't need any help
to add complications to it."

"Would I?" asked Olwen with mock innocence. "No of course it isn't. In fact I
may not need your place and if I do it'll be a husband and wife. Anyway you'll
meet them before I offer Penmawr Cottage, so you can vet them for yourself.
Agreed?"

Sarah was reassured and soon they were planning food, decorations and a
timetable to ensure that all would be ready for Saturday. Olwen planned to use
the barn and lay everything out on large trestle tables so that there would be
plenty of space for people to sit and eat in groups or move around as they
wished. She told Sarah how much she disliked the more formal dinner parties
where you sat in a given place and spent most of the evening with the guests at
your side or those seated opposite.

"We used to do a formal Harvest Supper as mother and father did for many years
but, after a couple of attempts, William and I preferred the informal
arrangement and found that we could accommodate more guests and really meet many
more of our friends and colleagues."

"This sounds fun," said Sarah," but how do you get rid of one set of folks
without upsetting them?"

"Oh, that's easy," replied Olwen. "We hire a local band for dancing and such
after the supper has been cleared and, when they've finished their stint, they
say good night and most folk take their leave and drift away and then we close
the barn and retreat to the house."

"I see," said Sarah. "Am I one to go at ten thirty?"

"No. Don't be silly, Sarah. You're hosting the shindig with me. William's
useless at all this. He usually eats and drinks far too much and hates
socialising after ten thirty, so we usually end up putting him to bed and
getting on with the party so I do need you to help me with everything, Sarah. Is
that all right?"

Sarah thought it all sounded very exciting and agreed and felt that she needed
to do something, meet new people and take on fresh challenges. Perhaps she had
devoted herself to Tim to the exclusion of all the other things she wanted to do
with her life, and maybe that's why he seemed to find her such a dull person.

She drove back to Penmawr Cottage in the late afternoon with a feeling of
satisfaction, for the two had agreed a plan of action, arranged for the delivery
of food and drink, discussed the layout of the barn, contacted a local band and
she'd eventually left Olwen ringing to confirm that the people she wanted to
invite were free to join them at the party.

After her evening meal she thought she ought to try and reach Tim once more as
the next few days could be really hectic and she needed to sort out some
financial arrangement with him as she had, as yet, no inclination to return to
him in York, even after a month or so apart.

A female voice, which Sarah thought vaguely familiar, answered the phone and,
just as Sarah was about to apologise for getting a wrong number, the voice again
repeated her York number.

"Is Tim there?" she asked.

There was a pause and then the voice changed somewhat and said,

"Hold on. I'll get him."

She heard the voice call, somewhat breathlessly for Tim and heard, quite
clearly, her husband's voice saying in a fierce whisper,

"You should have left it!" before the line crackled and he said, "Hello?"

"Hello Tim, it's me. Who was that?"

There was a long pause and she could almost picture the scene in her sitting
room but, after a while Tim answered,

"Hello Sarah. How are you? I was going to ring you later, but I've been rather
busy and ......"

"Who is she, Tim? I feel I know that voice?"

Again there was silence.

"I suppose it's that woman from the office again, isn't it?"

"Yes. Yes, it is Sarah. She just popped in a few moments ago to bring me a file
I"d left at work, and to see if there was anything else she could d....."

"Don't lie to me Tim. She was there when I rang you on Sunday wasn't she? No
wonder you couldn't talk to me."

"Look Sarah, there's nothing to get upset about. She's a friend and she wants to
help, that's all."

"Tim, we need to sort out our finances. I've some bills to meet and I need to
know that there's sufficient for me to draw on our joint account. How does it
stand?"

"There's no problem, Sarah. I'll check tomorrow, so you go ahead. Do you want to
meet me?" he asked lamely.

"At the moment, you're the last person I wish to meet. God, to think of it! How
could you? You must be laughing your heads off at me. You just couldn't wait to
replace me could you? So much for your promise of it being all over. I must be
blind or crazy not to have seen this coming. Look, I can't talk any more. You
make me sick, the pair of you! I hope that you're both.....," and she slammed
down the phone and stood, shaking and white faced in her kitchen.

She thought of her home and the fact that there was someone else living there,
making meals and sleeping in her bed. She wondered how much Tim enjoyed her love
making and again thought of his stinging rebukes that had almost shattered her
self confidence and filled her mind with the painful realisation that, in all
probability, Tim no longer loved her because of her inability to make him happy
either in or out of bed.

She reached for a drink and downed a brandy, coughing as the golden liquid
seared her throat and made her head spin so much that she almost staggered to
the settee and lay back, closing her eyes and trying to shut out the imagined
laughter of the other woman and Tim as they undoubtedly discussed her lack of
passion and frigid response to her husband's demands.

"I'll never forgive them," she thought. "I'll show them I'm not what they think
I am! I can do without him from now on and make my own way. A lawyer. That's
what I need at this moment," and she reached for another drink and carried the
bottle and glass to her bedroom.

That night she tossed and turned and, try as she might, she couldn't get rid of
the thought of Tim and that woman in the same bed. She imagined them together,
writhing in passion and kissing and making love with a skill and fire that made
her ache with her supposed inadequacies.

When she heard the heavy rain on the roof, and the fast filling stream beyond
she got up and went downstairs and, opening the cottage door she stared at the
driving wall of water lit by the light from the sitting room. On a mad impulse
she ran outside and, arms wide, turned her tear stained face towards the heavy
skies and, as the wind rose she cried out and ran barefoot to the top of the
garden, along the track, oblivious to the small flints and stones, and on to the
iron bridge.

She stopped as the heavy deluge flattened the thin night dress to her body and,
in a the sudden flash of blue lightning she glanced down and saw how the rain
had plastered the transparent material to her, exposing her rose-tipped breasts
and the soft hair of her lower belly.

With the second flash she took in the turbulence of the swollen stream below as
it raced away to the distant estuary, and then slowly sank to her knees,
seemingly beaten down by the buffeting wind and driving rain, and sobbed aloud.

Eventually the sheer volume of water cleared her spinning head and, pushing back
the streaming hair from her face, she reached for the hand rail and hauled
herself upright. In her head she thought,

"It's my turn now Tim Brooke. I'm free of you and free of our marriage. This is
me! I'm no little wife and belong to no man. I'm free to do as I wish when I
want and how I want!" and then out loud she cried to the elements,

"Just you wait! I'll show you!"

Later in bed she felt strangely calm and quiet, and as the wind dropped the rain
eased and soon she was asleep and, for a short while, at peace.

The supper party was a great success. William Jones had returned late on
Thursday and was delighted with the idea of a party and was particularly
friendly towards Sarah, praising her for the difference she had made to the
running of the farm office and was especially complimentary about the way she'd
organised and brought up to date he farm accounts.

Olwen had told him soon after Sarah had arrived at the cottage what she knew
about Sarah's marriage difficulties, and he was delighted that his wife had at
last found herself a companion who might make his regular absences more easy for
her to accept.

William Jones was in his fifties and his first wife had died after a long and
painful fight with cancer some years before . He and Olwen Powell had met at a
dinner party given by David Pugh, an auctioneer and mutual friend, who had a
beautiful house just a few miles down the coast near Bangor, and the pair had
immediately struck up a rapport, for she admired his humour, kindness and
apparent air of confidence when dealing with all manner of people.

William too was impressed by the way young Olwen Powell had taken over her late
father's farm and, instead of selling up and organising a comfortable life for
herself, had opted instead to run the place single handed and was making quite a
successful fist of it by all accounts.

After a brief courtship she had agreed to marry him providing he made his home
at the Bryn Aber and allowed her to carry on with the farm, and this he had been
happy to do so, gladly giving up his own home, which was full of sad memories,
and moving the few miles along the coast to be with his new bride.

William really needed to work from the company's head office in London, but he
had arranged an office in a subsidiary complex in nearby Queensferry so that he
could stay in touch and pick up work and such, though Olwen had accepted the
need for him to make frequent journeys to London and overseas. He was relieved
to find that she understood his various commitments and saw no reason to add to
his stressful work by involving him in farming matters.

Over the past few years William had found the demands of his job and the
travelling more and more onerous for, no longer a young man, he made few sexual
demands on his wife and accepted that, being much younger than he, Olwen would
occasionally seek satisfaction in other ways and with other men.

Likewise he felt that if the occasion arose while he was travelling, he too
could take a lover, and their willing and mature agreement to this state of
affairs was sealed by the fact that they occasionally discussed their extra
marital affairs, trusted each other to be absolutely discreet and gave the
outward appearance that theirs was, to all intents and purposes, a successful
marriage, which indeed it was.

After everyone at the party had finished eating, the tables were pushed to the
far end of the barn and the four piece band struck up with a series of barn
dances. The leader was a marvellous young woman from a local primary school and
she had the personality and ability to make everyone join in, and soon the
sounds of music and laughter filled the barn to its rafted roof.

Sarah met a number of people that night and enjoyed chatting and exchanging
views with folk who she knew only as a voice on the telephone. She was invited
to dance by various male guests and was especially pleased when Bob Roberts took
her onto the floor for a reel. Once again she felt his strength as he swung her
round by the waist, and at the end of the dance he snatched her up into his arms
and held her closely to him, crushing her breasts against his face and releasing
her before she could take offence. Sarah saw the passion in his eyes and
returned his gaze for a while until she heard her name being called, and with
real reluctance broke away from him.

She returned to Olwen's group and was introduced to Martyn Peters, a local
Ministry of Agriculture official, who was standing very close to Olwen and had a
protective arm about her shoulder and Sarah guessed that there was some intimacy
between them, but dismissed the thought when she saw William join the group and
the embracing pair didn't move, but stayed as they were.

Sarah revelled in the occasion feeling that she was no longer an appendage to
Tim and referred to as Tim's wife, but a person in her own right, with her own
ideas and opinions and she took pleasure from the fact that, for the first time
in many years, people actually listened to her opinions, and responded quite
seriously to what she had to say.

When the band leader announced the last dance Bob appeared by her side and
claimed her as his partner. It was a slow number and they danced close together,
listening to the romantic words of the song. Sarah felt the heat from his body
as he pulled her even closer and, as the music neared its end, he bent and
kissed her neck. Normally she would have blushed and pulled away, but the drink,
the music and the atmosphere of the whole evening made her feel that everything
was as it should be, and when the music stopped she looked up at him and smiled.

"That's better, Sarah," said Bob seriously and still holding her tightly round
the waist.

"What's better?" she asked

"That smile. A few weeks here has certainly brought about a change in you my
girl. You seem a different person tonight."

"Maybe I am," she said. "I feel more alive, Bob. It sounds funny, but I'm
beginning to discover who I really am."

He smiled, encouraging her to explain.

"And who might that be?" he asked.

Sarah laughed.

"Don't take any notice, Bob. It's probably the drink talking."

Maybe," he mused, "and maybe it's not. You're a very beautiful woman, Sarah,
I've always thought that you know and I think you're most desirable."

"And maybe it's the drink that's making you say stupid things," she countered.

"Think what you like, but I know when I'm serious and being stone cold sober
won't change what I feel."

"I'm a married woman," she said suddenly.

"Well I don't see a married woman, Cariad. Perhaps I could be the one to fill a
certain gap in your life. Is there a gap Sarah?"

She looked at him, assessing the lust in his eyes and began to tremble.

"Have you no one special then, Bob?" she blurted.

"No one special, why?" but she pulled away from his arms as Olwen called, but he
caught her hand and held her. "Remember," he said quietly, "if you ever need me,
I'm more than willing to be there."

She looked up at him, and was again disconcerted by his open desire and, when
she realised that he was seriously propositioning her, she refrained from making
some humorous remark and said,

"You're a nice person, Bob, and make it sound so tempting and you"ve no idea
what it does to a girl's confidence," then on impulse she moved towards him and
kissed his cheek.

"Good night, and thanks, "she whispered and smiled before walking away to join
Olwen's group.

Olwen came to meet her and whispered,

"You're catching on bloody quick aren't you?"

Sarah blushed and told her not to be silly.

"Do you mind if Alan and Ruth France stay at Penmawr Cottage, Sarah? They'll be
away fairly early in the morning as they're going south to visit Ruth's
parents."

Sarah looked at the young couple and saw what a well matched pair they made.
She'd been introduced to them earlier and learned that Alan France was a cousin
of Olwen's. She had in fact had a dance with Alan and found him to be both
charming and amusing, but had noticed that even as they danced he had cast
loving glances at his wife and, whenever she had seen them together they had
been holding hands, seemingly afraid to lose contact for more than a few
moments.

Sarah smiled as she looked at the lovers and told Olwen that she'd be more than
happy to put them up and moved over to the couple and repeated her invitation,
telling them that it would cause her no trouble and she'd be happy to see that
they had a good breakfast before they left in the morning.

Ruth protested that they wanted to be away well before breakfast time and that
they'd probably stop for a meal to break their journey and Sarah asked that when
they left they gave her a lift in Alan's car as she felt that she'd had far too
much alcohol to negotiate the narrow track up the hill, and as the majority of
guests had drifted away and the band had packed their instruments, a few people
gathered in the farm house lounge for drinks and snacks.

This inner circle of friends were at ease with each other and included Martyn
Peters, David Pugh and his wife Moira, Joe and Mary Balfour, the Jones"
solicitor and some close friends of either William or Olwen's who lived very
near to the farm or were staying the night in the main farm house. Soon the
conversation turned to politics and in particular, farming matters.

Sarah was surprised how much she had already grasped about farming problems and
felt sufficiently confident to offer her views and observations on a variety of
issues. She felt so proud when the others listened to what she had to say and
treated her opinions with all seriousness. At one point, William declared
himself too tired to stay up any longer and wished everyone good night and
retreated upstairs and very soon Martyn took his place by Olwen's side and Sarah
was amazed to see how openly the pair held hands and touched quite intimately in
front to the other guests.

Olwen caught her look and smiled back, and her expression was one of pure
defiance, so Sarah looked away and tried to fix her eyes on the local veterinary
who was telling the tale of a strange local hill farmer who had called him out
to examine his sick wife, saying he had more trust in vet than the new English
doctor.

After an hour or so Ruth yawned and Alan asked if Sarah minded if they went up
to the cottage. The trio said their good nights and soon Alan's car was parked
safely at Penmawr Cottage's door and the three were discussing sleeping
arrangements.

Sarah showed them to her bedroom, assured them that she was perfectly all right
with the smaller room and while the two used the bathroom she made them a night
cap and took it to their room.

She then left, and later climbed in to the single bed and lay there thinking
about the party and in particular, Bob Roberts. She couldn't sleep for his words
and the feel of his body seemed to dominate her mind and, try as she might,
these thoughts kept her awake so long that she began to doubt that she would be
fit to rise early and see to her guest's breakfast.

As she remembered his kiss and his words she became aware of noises from the
next room. Then she heard the springs from the brass bed begin to creak and
heard the whispered laughter which was quickly suppressed by an urgent shushing
sound.

Then the creaking stopped and moments later she heard the bedroom latch click
and a voice whispered,

"Sssshhh! Be quiet."

Next there were the sounds of careful footsteps on her stairs and she wondered
if something might be wrong. She waited for their return for what seemed ages
and finally got out of bed, put on her dressing gown and opened her own door as
quietly as she was able.

From the top of the stairs she could see that the two below had switched on the
small table lamp and, as she peered through the banister rails she nearly gasped
aloud as she saw that there was nothing at all wrong with her guests, and try as
she might, she was powerless to move away from the unfolding scene below.

A very naked Ruth was on her knees with her back to the fireplace and had the
engorged and very erect manhood of an equally naked Alan in her open mouth. Alan
appeared to be in agony, for his head was thrown back and he appeared to be
searching for a spot somewhere above and behind him and had one hand wrapped in
his wife"s hair and the other at his hip.

Moments later he seemed to gasp for air and his hips began to thrust forwards as
his excitement increased and Sarah sensed his approaching climax and, as he was
about to lose control Ruth pulled away, dislodging him from her red lips and, as
she turned her head aside, he groaned aloud with disappointment and shook his
magnificent weapon at her.

"Please!" he begged. "I was on the edge."

"Not like that," said Ruth. "Let's use something else!"

Sarah felt she must go before they saw her, but she couldn't take her eyes from
the naked couple. She admired Ruth's thick, dark hair, the small firm breasts
with their erect nipples and her smooth hips as she sat over the table edge and
parted her long, slender legs and the sight of her dark pubic bush seemed most
erotic as well as the open invitation in her half closed eyes which seemed so
wanton that Sarah almost moaned aloud with passion.

She watched in amazement as Alan grasped his long and slender weapon, and when
he moved slowly between his wife"s thighs, Ruth gently took his erection into
her own tiny hand, pulled back the slippery foreskin sand guided it between her
swollen cunney.

Soon Alan's tight buttocks were driving fiercely into his wife and the pair
began to issue little cries and whimpers as the pressure built and neared
boiling point and, as Ruth began to moan aloud, Alan put his hand over her mouth
to silence her and then thrust even harder.

Soon they both went rigid and as motionless as bronze statues before their
passionate endeavours returned with a series of jerks and spasms which went on
and on and on.

As Alan collapsed, exhausted onto his wife, Sarah tore herself away and quietly
returned to her room. She held her breath as she shut the door catch and then
found her bed in the darkness.

It felt cold and empty between the sheets and she curled up into a foetal
position and put her hands between her thighs. She felt her own wetness and
wished for someone to ease her excited emotions and make her a woman once more
and her last thought, before sleep overtook her, was of Bob Roberts and the feel
of his body against her soft breasts and his strong hands at her waist as he
took her through the dance.

When she awoke the next morning, she heard the sounds of a car engine and,
leaping from bed, she reached the window in time to see Alan's car fording the
stream and heading up the steep incline to join the track to the farm below.

"Damn!" she said aloud. "What a hostess I turned out to be!" and she went back
to bed, still feeling the effects of last night's alcohol, lack of sleep and the
erotic images she had witnessed in the room below.

Soon her fingers were at her own cunney, and as her mind replayed the scene she
had witnessed on her dining table she pictured herself, nakedly vulnerable and
spread out before a lasciviously virile Bob Roberts.

Her climb was swift, intense and very exciting, but there was something vaguely
unsatisfying as she lay there perspiring and breathing very heavily and she knew
what she needed, but dare not admit it even to herself. Then reluctantly, she
left warmth of her bed, denying herself another bout with the newly acquired
dildo from Olwen and went to the bathroom for a cool shower.

Over breakfast she resolved to do something about her situation, but insure as
to how she might go about it she puzzled for some time, not clear what her true
intentions really were.

With such an early start to her day it was still only 7.45am when she arrived at
the entrance to the farm, having walked down the steep track enjoying the feel
of the sun at her back. As she turned by the stables in the farm yard she heard
a laugh and then a male voice and, not wanting to disturb the occupants at such
an early hour, she peered from the corner of the building to see who it was.

She was relieved to see Olwen emerge from the farm house door and pause for a
moment, stretching her arms skywards and yawning luxuriously. Sarah took a
breath to call out, but before any sound could be made a pair of hands appeared
from behind her friend and grasped her bosom.

Olwen turned and grinned then, looking over her shoulders around the empty farm
yard, laughed and pulled a fully dressed Martyn Peters towards her. Sarah stayed
in the shadow of the stables waiting for an opportunity to move away, but the
pair stood by the door, in full view of the sunlit yard and kissed with great
passion.

Soon Martyn had the dressing gown pulled down from Olwen's naked shoulders and
his mouth nuzzled at her large round breasts.

"Not again," thought Sarah, "has everyone taken leave of their senses?"

Not daring to make a move which might draw attention to herself, Sarah waited as
Olwen's hands rubbed her partner's groin and their bodies thrust together
greedily as Martyn's hands grasped and squeezed Olwen's breasts, and the two
kissed deeply so that Sarah could just make out the sounds of passion. Then,
without warning Martyn pulled away, leaving Olwen with heaving, red-tipped
breasts exposed to the morning sunshine.

"Look at the time. Must go my love!" he said. "Thanks for the wonderful party.
We'll meet again soon, I promise."

Straightening his jacket and tie and adjusting the lump at his groin he walked
to his car which was parked across the yard and Olwen, still half naked, watched
him go and, as the engine sprang to life she blew him a kiss then, using both
hands, hefted her breasts together and moved her tongue over her swollen lips in
a most lascivious way.

When the car had disappeared from the yard, Olwen pulled her dressing gown on to
her shoulders, knotted the belt, straightened her hair and went indoors and
Sarah waited, for her own heart to stop racing before emerging from the shadows,
crossing the yard and entering the cool kitchen.

Olwen who was by now sitting at the large pine table looked up as she entered,

"What a party, Sarah. Oh I've had such a good time!"

"So I see," answered Sarah, "where's William?"

"Still in my old room, I expect. He was really tired last night poor darling."

Sarah said nothing, but wondered why William had not shared his wife's bedroom.
Then, as she thought about the farewell she had just witnessed, knew immediately
the answer to her question.

"Are your other guests still here?" she asked

" Of course. I'll start making breakfast in an hour."

Over coffee in the kitchen the two chatted about the party and William popped
his head round the door to tell Olwen he was off to Queensferry to check his
mail and that he'd see her later.

"How were your guests?" asked Olwen when they were alone again.

"Not a minutes trouble," said Sarah. "they were away before I woke this morning.
They must think me a lazy sod not getting up and giving them breakfast before
they left."

"I shouldn't worry about Alan and Ruth. They're still in the first flushes of
wedded bliss. I reckon food's the last thing on their minds. Couple of rabbits
by all accounts. From what I hear I'm surprised you got any sleep at all!"

Sarah blushed and Olwen, quick as a flash caught her embarrassment.

"Come on Sarah. Tell me all. Were they as bad as everyone says?"

"Well, they didn't go to sleep straight away. I'll say that much," she replied,
still blushing as the image of the naked pair on her table flashed through her
mind.

"Do tell," begged Olwen, fascinated by Sarah's obvious self consciousness.
"Could you hear what they were up to?"

With some reluctance Sarah told of what she'd seen, and Olwen was so excited she
could hardly keep her hands still. She rubbed her own breasts and clutched her
fists deep into her thighs so that they disappeared into the folds of her
dressing gown.

"What a sight!" she exclaimed. "Wish I'd been there to see it all."

"Well I don't think it was right of me to do what I did," said Sarah, "what if
they'd seen me at the top of the stairs? What then?"

"I think it would be exciting to have someone watch you make love like that.
They could tell you later what you looked like, and whether they were excited by
it. I think I"d like that Sarah, especially if I knew that someone was watching,
then I"d make sure that they had a good view and not miss any details."

"You really are unbelievable, Olwen Jones. I can't think of anything more
embarrassing to be honest."

"Well, that's you," said Olwen seriously. "We're very different aren't we? But
then again I'm always ready for a new experience, and I suppose I'm a bad girl,
but look at you Sarah, where's being a good and faithful wife got you?"

Sarah thought there was a logic to Olwen's argument, after all it was she who
had moved out of her home. It was her husband who'd found excitement with
someone else and accused her of being staid and cold. Perhaps Olwen was right.
Maybe she was unimaginative and afraid to let go.

"Perhaps you're right Olwen, and I'm the one who's stupid. But I am what I am
and that's that."

"No it isn't. You can be whatever you want to be. Take my advice and live a
little, Sarah. Loosen up and find pleasure in life. You're still young and
attractive, and that's obvious to everybody. Tim's treated you badly so get your
own back. I tell you this, Sarah, I wouldn't let it rest at a trial separation
while he sleeps with who he fancies and leaves you hanging on here, waiting for
him to ask for your forgiveness and take him back"

"It's not like that, I....."

"Oh no? Who answered the phone the last time you rang home?"

"I don't know. Someone from work he said. I wonder......."

"Grow up, Sarah!"

Sarah looked away and thought again about the voice on the phone. It sounded so
familiar to her until the woman realised who she was talking to.

"I'm not sure you're right, Olwen, but what puzzles me is that I feel sure I
know the voice, but I can't put a name to it."

"Would it matter who it was, Sarah? The fact is that you're living up here like
a nun and he"s behaving like the bloody Yorkshire Casanova!"

Sarah laughed at this comparison.

"A nun! That's a laugh. You and I have hardly been candidates for the convent,
and look at what I saw last night and what we've been gossiping about this
morning."

Olwen suddenly saw the humour of it all and collapsed into laughter.

"Well Sarah, I'm going to take your education in hand. I'm to be the teacher
here, not you, and I'm going to make a new woman of you. A woman our dear Tim
will not recognise and someone he'll find so attractive and sensual that'll
he'll plead for forgiveness and beg on his knees for you to come back to him.
And that's when you'll feel so good, because then you'll be able to make a real
choice as to whether or not he's the man you want to spend the rest of your life
with."

"What are you Olwen Jones? A worker of miracles?"

"If you give me your complete trust, and do exactly as I say, you'll be amazed
at what we can do together."

Sarah began to laugh, but stopped when she realised that Olwen was deadly
serious.

"Do you want to change, Sarah?"

"You know I do. But how?"

"Trust me. I promise you'll not regret it."

"Oh well. Do your worst! It'll be fun trying, I suppose. When do we start?"

"Today!" said Olwen, determined to keep control. "Dylis will be here soon to
help me with breakfast, so let's spend the afternoon in the spare room when
everyone's gone and we'll discuss a campaign together. What do you say?"

"You make it sound like war," said Sarah.

"Oh it's much more serious than that!" exclaimed Olwen solemnly.

That night in her cottage Sarah lay in her own big bed thinking over the events
of the last twenty four hours; Alan and Ruth, Martyn and Olwen, herself and Bob
Roberts; her husband and his mystery woman and the ideas that Olwen had put to
her during their afternoon in the small bedroom of Bryn Aber farm.

At one point Olwen had pinned her pupil's fair hair up high, and persuaded her
to undress before ordering her to put on some of her own lingerie. When she had
been forced to examine herself in the mirror, she was amazed by the stranger
staring back at her. The beautiful, silky garment felt sensually alluring, and
hung from thin shoulder straps, barely concealing her obvious charms.

She caught sight of Olwen's admiring approval in the reflection of the mirror
and smiled back, blushing with embarrassment.

"I wouldn't dare!" she said, laughing as she struck a pose.

"Oh yes you world. Look at yourself, Sarah. Honestly, what man could resist such
a sight?"

She gazed at her image and turned sideways so that the sweep of her proud
breasts stood out in profile, and as her hands went to her hair she observed the
lift of her bosom and the sensuous jut of her hardening nipples which showed
clearly through the silkiness of the thin material.

Olwen had told her that it was all a matter of confidence. Hadn't she proved to
her what a beautiful woman she was, and that any man would want her? Now it was
simple a question of finding the man and arranging the opportunity.

Again Sarah had balked at the idea still afraid of what she might be asked to do
for she was really terrified by the thought of being alone with a stranger, and
being vulnerable and at the mercy of his whims.

"I couldn't, Olwen. I know I couldn't. I"d cry "no" at the last minute and ruin
everything."

Olwen didn't say anything for some time and then suggested,

"What if you weren't alone with him? What if I made the running and then you
came in and joined us? Then there'd be no need to be frightened. You could
choose whether to take part or not when you'd seen what he did and what he was
like."

"Are you serious?" gasped Sarah.

"Of course I am. Didn't I say that I'd find it exciting to know I was being
watched? God Sarah, the more I think about it the more I want it to happen!"

"But who will you get to....? What would he say if he knew I was there? How do
you know he'd want another woman at a time like that?"

"Don't you worry about that, Sarah. The man I have in mind would give his life
for such a chance."

"Who is it? Do I know him?"

"No. But it's someone who's been after me for some time. If I give him a ring
he'll be over here in a flash, don't worry about that."

"What's he like?" asked Sarah, suddenly even more unsure of herself, and
becoming afraid that that she was getting involved with something she felt
unable to control.

"Oh, he's young and fit and has loads of confidence - bit of an arrogant bugger
come to think of it, and that's why I've been putting him off. He thinks he's an
irresistible stud, or so he keeps telling me, so let's give him an opportunity
to prove it, shall we?"

"I don't know, Olwen. This is getting serious. He might be rough..."

"What, with the two of us! I doubt that he'll have the energy to be rough."

"Who is he then?"

"He was a local driver who used to call at the farm every couple of weeks or so
for our barley or potatoes from the silo. Then he got himself a job with a
Lancashire haulage company and left the area a few months ago."

"Do you still keep in touch with him?"

"Of course not, but he insisted on leaving me his new telephone number when he
left, in case I needed any of his "special services" as he called them. God he
was a cocky bugger, but he had a certain charm I suppose and a good sense of
humour."

Olwen paused as she pictured him.

"And he was very, very fit," she laughed.

What makes you so sure he'd come over here?"

"I know Mark Tolmey, Sarah, and the thought of a chance to get his own back on
me for all the teasing and all the insults he's had to take over the months he
visited the farm, will be like a red rag to a bull. He'll not be able to resist,
I promise you."

"Oh dear," said Sarah nervously, her heart thumping as she heard Olwen put a
name to the fantasy man, "it all seems horribly possible when you talk about it.
I don't know if I can, Olwen."

"Listen. I'm going to arrange it whether you want to take part or not. At least
I'll get some pleasure out of it, even if you decide to do nothing more but
watch us. It's entirely up to you whether you decide to join in, so stop
worrying."

"Where are you going to do it?"

"I thought I'd use that old cottage above your place. You know where I mean,
over the bridge and up the track. It's got plenty of straw up there that we keep
for bedding for the sheep if it gets too bad for them out on the hills and
there's still two of the rooms that are dry and there's plenty of peepholes for
anyone who might happen to be watching."

Olwen had obviously become very aroused by her own fantasy and Sarah had to
admit that it was a stunningly exciting plan.

In the end, and after much cajoling, and against her better judgement, Sarah
finally gave way and at least promised Olwen that she would be a witness to the
whole affair, but refused to say whether or not she'd actually join in with all
the things Olwen had planned.

She became so agitated at the thought of what she'd agreed to do that sleep
seemed impossible, and in sheer desperation she reached in her bedside drawer
for the dildo which Olwen had left with her.

Within a very few moments the plunging phallus brought her to the brink of a
stunning conclusion and she cried out at its sheer intensity which lasted for
some time but eventually she relaxed and lay there in sheer contentment and, as
her breathing deepened, she slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.