Foss
Wallyfoss@btinternet.com
Fold in the Hills 6
foldint6.txt
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mf, mmf, ff, novel

CHAPTER SIX

Sarah's life settled into a predictable pattern. Olwen had returned with new
stock for the farm and had been most impressed when she saw nothing amiss and
the barn cleared out so well.

Sarah made no mention to Olwen about her encounter with Bob Roberts for she felt
that her own behaviour on that evening had not been entirely innocent and she
remembered how, she had always secretly wondered about him on her visits to
Penmawr Cottage with both Tim and Ann, and now that she knew, she had no desire
to repeat the experience.

Bob on his part had made no reference to their encounter and had given up trying
to manipulate an opportunity to get her alone, as she'd made it patently clear
that she was not interested. He was rather upset by her coolness towards him,
for he considered that their love making had been successful and couldn't
understand why Sarah refused to meet or even speak to him, except on farming
matters. However, he had made promise, and a deal was a deal, so he reasoned
that it was her loss and their were other ladies in the area who were more than
willing to allow Bob Roberts into their beds.

William Jones returned briefly from the Middle East to meet his directors and
give an interim report, but his short homecoming lasted only a few days before
he returned to the same area to continue his work.

The good news was that his Head Of Department had finally handed in his notice
and William had been given the whisper that if all went well in the Middle East
and his report was both sufficiently detailed and far reaching enough to fulfill
the company's requirements, and was one they could confidently act upon, then
the position he hoped for was his.

Of course nothing was in writing and he knew that his supporters could so easily
change their minds, but he saw no alternative. Olwen, knowing how much the
Queensferry position meant to him, raised no objections to his brief stay at
Bryn Aber and made sure that his few days respite at home were as loving and
stress free and she could possibly make them.

When he left, Olwen seemed unusually quiet and less bubbly and increased her
daily work load with a grim determination to involve herself in everything. She
drove her workers hard and she herself could be seen working from early morning
until it was too dark to continue.

These were busy days for Sarah too, for Olwen's sudden increase in activity
meant more work for Sarah to deal with and by early afternoon, when she returned
to Penmawr, she found plenty to occupy her both in the cottage itself, where she
was busy decorating the spare bedroom, as well as in the garden.

She had visited Olwen's solicitor, Joe Balfour in Llandudno and outlined what
she and Olwen had discovered during their trip to York and had received advice
both about obtaining a divorce and her financial rights and she'd been mightily
relieved when Joe had finished talking to her and then she'd given him the name
and address of Tim's solicitor in York.

Joe Balfour was very supportive and chatted to her about her future and asked if
she had met someone else and was in a hurry to get an annulment. Sarah, amused
by the very idea, had assured him that there was no great hurry and that she
certainly hadn't any plans to even contemplate a new relationship.

At last, life once more return to a routine and, though she was reasonably
content in Penmawr Cottage she found herself thinking more and more about her
three lovers.

Mark Tolmey had been so sure of himself and incredibly virile, and Martyn had
been the most gentle and most skillful lover, while Bob Roberts had been very
selfish, far too aggressive and cared little about her and too much with his own
needs.

At night, in her large bed, she thought about the trio, and ran the events of
each encounter over and over in her mind so that, before long the three acts had
been refined and, as her memory sought to romanticise each lover, and using her
fingers or the dildo Olwen had presented her with, she brought off a number of
sybaritic climaxes which left her head reeling and heart panting but, when the
passion had receded, a vague feeling of dissatisfaction.

Sexually she didn't miss Tim but, the picture of him and Ann, naked and
together, in her bed prayed on her mind, and her nightly forays into
masturbation left her both drained and listless. So anxious was she to clear her
thought from the tormenting images that she even considered contacting Bob and
asking him to visit her in the cottage after work and repair her dripping taps
in the bathroom for the leaking was getting worse and try as she might to turn
the taps off, the steady drip, drip of water continued.

At about 4.30pm one sunny Saturday, Sarah was in the wood room busy trying to
split some rather large logs and was really struggling to keep working for the
air was so still that it was difficult to breathe.

She swung violently at a block of elm, catching the edge of the log and, as it
spun away from the chopping block, Sarah lost her balance, squealed out loudly,
fell sideways, knocking the door closed and ending up dishevelled but unhurt
against the pile of wood stacked against one of the walls.

She touched herself all over to check if she had done any damage and then
giggled when she thought how funny it must have looked.

There was an unexpected knock on the closed door and a voice,

"Hello. Are you fine?"

Sarah couldn't place the voice, so she got to her feet and opened the door a
little and saw a hand raised and about to knock on the door again and opened it
wider.

She was surprised to see a young, fair haired man, carrying a large rucksack. He
was dressed in a thin T shirt and a pair of faded shorts and had on a pair of
stout hiking boots. His legs were bare, for his socks were rolled down at his
ankles and he had a handsome, open face and very blue eyes which stared from
under his blonde fringe. When he realized that the door was open, he lowered his
arm and smiled, showing a set of beautifully even and very white teeth.

"Good day Fraulein.....Frau. I'm sorry."

Sarah stared back for a while, coughed and said,

"Hello. Can I help you?"

"Please, I am sorry to disturb, but I need the road over the mountain."

He pushed a map case towards her and when she took it he moved to her side and
pointed a finger at a thin dotted line.

"Here I am, yes?"

Sarah struggled to find familiar landmarks and, when she spotted Bryn Aber farm
and followed the dotted line up to the name Penmawr she looked up excitedly and
said,

"Penmawr. You're here!"

He looked puzzled for a moment.

"I did not know I had walked so much!" and he stood back from her and walked to
the centre of the lawned area.

"This path. Where go?"

Sarah explained that the track by her garden went over the stream and led either
back to the farm or over the hill.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"I want hostel, here," and he pointed again at a spot on his map.

"I see. Oh, you want the top track. Go back up the hill there and follow the
path that leads upwards and then the signpost in about a mile will point you to
Llanwrst."

He struggled with what she said for a while following her finger as it pointed
the way he must go.

"Is it many kilometers?"

"It's a long way from here, I suppose. You've about twelve miles to do to get
there," and she made an attempt to convert and said, tentatively,

"That's about twenty kilometers I think."

"So much? It is very hard when the sun is warm," he said.

"Would you like a drink?"

"You are very kind, Fraulein. That is good," and he followed her to the door and
took off his haversack, propping it up against the cottage wall.

Sarah returned with a tall glass of fresh lemon juice she had made earlier and
he put his head back and drank the whole glass in one. Some of the cold liquid
spilled from the corner of his mouth and ran down his chin and onto his thin
green shirt, leaving a dark stain lines as it fell and then he smiled and
breathed deeply.

"That was so good. I thank you much."

"Where have you come from?" asked Sarah.

"I am from Oldenberg in Germany. I am on my vacation in Great Britain and
I.......,"

"No. I mean where have you come from today?"

"Oh, I understand, Fraulein. I am today from here. I show you. I do not know how
you say the strange words."

He showed her the map, pointing out Llandudno, and when his finger moved to the
name Bodnant Gardens, he said,

"Here I stop and make visit. I am gardener in Germany and I like to see the
great gardens of Britain. I have need to write what I see for my professor, you
understand?"

She nodded and smiled and felt quite comfortable with him and interested in what
he had to say.

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

He was puzzled at first and then realised as she put her hand to her mouth in a
gesture of eating.

"Ah, I understand. I had coffee and cake at the garten café."

"I am having a salad in a moment," she said very slowly. "You are welcome to
share it with me."

"Oh, no. I could not take your food, Fraulein. That would not be correct."

"Don't be silly," said Sarah, "there is plenty and it is a long way to Llanwrst
and no cafés on the road."

He seemed to understand what she was trying to say and said,

"Thank you. You are pleasant," and she smiled and said that he could sit in the
garden while she got it ready.

She watched him move to the low wall and went indoors to make him another cold
drink which he took it from her gratefully and she left him there and busied
herself in the kitchen and, before long she heard a series of banging sounds
coming from the end of the cottage and hurried outside to investigate.

When she reached the wood room she peered in and saw that her visitor had
stripped off his shirt and was busy chopping the large chords of wood into
smaller chunks and kindling. She didn't say anything and he didn't look up, but
she couldn't help but notice that his body was tanned and carried not one ounce
of fat, that his chest was completely hairless and his arms were lean and
powerful.

She hurried indoors, changed into a skirt and blouse and prepared two plates of
salad, opened a tin of red salmon and a new jar of pickled beetroot. She found a
box of white wine she'd bought some time before, and struggled until the small
tap was exposed, poured a little to taste, and began to set the folding picnic
table she had against the west wall of the cottage.

As she was adding coleslaw to the plates, she heard a knock at the door and went
to see him and saw that he had his shirt round his naked shoulders and sweat was
dripping from his forehead and on his chest.

"I have done some wood for you Fraulein. I hope it will be for many days," he
said, smiling happily.

"You are very kind," she said. "Would you like a shower before you eat?"

"This is wonderful," he said. "I will be clean, I promise."

She didn't know whether he would be clean or that he wouldn't make a mess, but
she asked him to pick up his haversack and follow her and she showed him the
bathroom and gave him a large towel to use.

He almost bowed as she left and she stood at the top of the stairs, hands to her
mouth to stifle the giggles that were building inside her.

She had everything ready when he returned wearing a new white T shirt, and she
led him out of the house and round the corner of the cottage to the small
terrace, overlooking the valley below and pointed to his seat.

He ate hungrily and with relish and she marveled at his appetite and then later
they shared a tin of peaches and cream and sat in the warmth of the evening,
drinking the cold white wine and watching the sun as it dropped towards the dark
trees on the far hillside. The drink seemed to relax them both and soon they
were chatting quite amiably.

He told her that his name was Peter and spoke of his life; his desire to come to
Britain and visit the places he had heard of as a schoolboy, and of his great
love of gardens. His grandfather had been a gardener after the war and his
father still looked after the gardens and grounds of Oldenberg Castle

She learned that he was twenty one years old and about to begin his final year
at Hanover University and that, when he qualified he planned to work with his
father for a while, but hoped to travel abroad and work in some of the world's
great gardens.

They drank and talked so long that they hardly noticed the light fade from the
sky and it wasn't until Sarah offered to make a coffee that she remembered how
far he had to travel before he could sleep.

"I am happy," he assured her, "I can walk at night, it is no problem. I am sorry
I not have the time to do as I wish."

"What do you wish?" she asked, puzzled.

"I wish to make your taps good."

"Taps?"

Taps in top. They do not stop."

"Oh, the bath taps. Yes, they need mending. Never mind, I'll get them repaired."

"You have tools?"

"Yes, I think so."

"I do them now. Show me, please. I very quick."

Despite her protests he insisted and she showed him the box of tools under the
kitchen sink. He quickly selected what he needed and disappeared upstairs and
she listened and washed the plates and dishes and he banged and shuffled above.

Twenty minutes later he reappeared, smiling proudly and put the tools back where
they belonged.

"All is ordered. No more water. I go now and say thank you Sarah for your good
friendship."

He reached for his haversack and turned to shake her hand and Sarah didn't know
what to say. She held his hand, clinging to it as her thoughts became more and
more jumbled.

"Don't go, Peter," she said softly. "It's a long way and the hostel won't be
open when you get there."

Peter enjoyed the feel of her hand in his, and smiled at her, trying to
understand what she was saying."

"All is good, Sarah. I have sleeping sack and this night is warm."

"But it's silly to leave at this time. There's a spare room you can have. Then
I'll make you a good breakfast before you go in the morning."

"You wish me to stay with you?" he asked. "You are very alone?"

"No! I mean...yes .... I want you to stay. I think it is................"

He pulled her towards him and held her close and then he patted her back gently
and, clutching her, pulled her face away from him and kissed her softly on the
lips. Sarah's emotions were in a turmoil for his kiss had completely taken her
breath away and, before she could speak, he slid his rucksack from his shoulder
and pulled her to him again.

This time his kisses became more intimate and as his tongue probed her mouth she
heard herself moan and pulled him closer and closer so that she became aware of
the urgency of his manhood as it surged against her soft belly.

He lifted his head away a fraction and looked into her eyes,

"I am so happy," he panted. "I have a need for you all the time I am here. You
are beautiful mein leibling. Our love will be very good!"

Sarah hadn't the heart to protest, for she felt that she had caused the
misunderstanding and was quite happy to be with this young stranger, whose
generosity and cheerfulness had made her forget, for a short afternoon and
evening, the pain of her recent visit to her home in York.

His innocence and trust moved her greatly and his handsome looks and gentle
manner were deeply desirable so that the prospect of a night of passion with
someone so removed from her reality was so tempting that she allowed herself to
be swept along by his enthusiastic and loving caresses.

She manouvered him over to the large settee and there they continued their hot
embraces and then he showered her with deep kisses and soon the two were panting
breathlessly and smiling lovingly into each other's eyes.

Sarah held him away to regain her breath and he looked so crestfallen, thinking
himself rejected, that she laughed softly and placed his hand at her breast.
Taking this as permission to continue he soon had her blouse unbuttoned and
worked her brassiere above her lovely breasts. He sighed aloud as his hands
touched the naked flesh and he gently squeezed then, resting their weight in his
palms be began to tease the hardening nipples with his thumbs. Soon he was
tonguing the reddening areolae and circling the soft fruit with his fingers
before he clamped his lips to the rigid, almost painful tips and nursed at them
hungrily.

Sarah felt tiny electric shocks shoot through her body as he sucked noisily at
her breasts, and as she pushed herself at him, his free hand reached round and
unfastened the brassiere strap and pushed both this and her open blouse away,
and leaving her naked from the waist up.

When he paused for breath she slumped sideways and lifted her long legs up and
onto the sofa. Her skirt caught on a corner of the cushion exposing a naked
thigh and, as she noticed his reaction, she saw the glint in his blue eyes at
the feast before him, and a shiver of pleasure coursed through her. She felt his
hand stroke the exposed flesh and its touch was so hot that she almost jumped at
the sensation.

She felt him raise her skirt even higher and sensed his eyes burning into her as
he assessed and admired her lovely lines. She almost swooned when his hand
covered her pubic region and she was suddenly aware of the dampness spreading
outwards form between her thighs.

He lowered his head and she took pleasure in his soft kisses as they worked
their way along her legs and, when his hands found the waistband of her gossamer
briefs, she raised herself slightly so that he could draw the silky material
from her and pull them off her feet.

When he looked back at her she saw the raw, youthful excitement in his face and
smiled encouragingly while raising her knees slightly. Then his blonde head
bowed once more and she felt a finger at her slit, easing the swollen lips of
her cunney apart and spreading the slippery wetness up and down the soft groove.
Soon his face dipped into her and his skillful tongue began to work its magic,
so that her vagina seemed to open like a pink English rose.

She was amazed by his expertise and admired his patient control, for nothing was
hurried, and even when his probing tongue found the hard little centre his licks
were slow, rhythmic and so tender that she was soon on the very edge of losing
control.

His tongue eventually left the rigid button and worked its way up her body,
stopping to probe her deep belly button and the underside of her rising breasts,
and then Peter stood, lifting his T Shirt above his head before casting it aside
as he smiled at her and unfastened the thick belt at his waist. She stared
spellbound, as his long fingers lowered the zip fastening and, with unwavering
attention she watched him step from his jeans and remove his short, socks and
then he straightened and stood by her side in nothing but his small white under
shorts.

She was amazed by his control, feeling that she was the pupil and he was about
to deliver a most important lesson. She noticed the distortion in his pants as
something alive within then appeared to lift and twitch as if it had a life of
its own and she reached out to touch the creature.

Peter smiled, and watched her through half lidded eyes, and as her hand neared,
he pulled away and the hidden creature jerked temptingly just out of her reach.
Sarah laughed at the display and sat up again and, as she reached for him again
it jerked once more, just beyond her hand. She stood from the sofa and backed
him towards the table so that when he felt it at his back he tried to turn, but
she lunged and grabbed her prize.

She held its thickness and it seemed to buck in her hand so strongly that she
began to fear for her own safety.

"So, Sarah," he said breathlessly, "you enjoy a good brockwurst? They are good
to eat, Fraulein, you like?"

Sarah laughed at him and, hooking her fingers in the waistband of his shorts,
she pulled the final garment from him.

As his cock sprang free it swung upwards and curved towards his hard stomach and
then he stepped from his briefs and she admired the leanness and strength of his
body. He was almost completely hairless and even the little growing round his
penis was so light and thin that it was almost invisible.

The weapon itself had a neatly circumcised head which was dark pink and red and
swollen. The large ball sack looked full and tight with excitement and he stood,
legs apart, without embarrassment while her eyes wandered over him.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him and, as their naked bodies
touched, he kissed her again and again, crushing her to him so that her breasts
squashed, almost painfully, against his hard chest.

Then his hands were on her shoulders and as he bore down on them she gladly
acquiesced and knelt before him. She looked up at him towering above her and saw
the need in his eyes and licked her lips at the erection curving upwards from
her viewpoint.

Peter grasped his tool with one hand and pushed it down so that it was pointed
at her face and, as she opened her mouth to ask him to be careful she found it
immediately full of him and clamped her lips so that they held him just below
the swollen end of his manhood. She pulled his hand away and grabbed hold of the
shaft, anxious to gain control and limit the depth of his thrusting but Peter
held her head, not in a threatening way, and stroked her hair as she began to
move her tongue over his thick weapon. He felt the heat of her mouth as she
breathed between the thrusts and, when she wiped the underside of her tongue
over the exposed helmet, his weapon seemed to kick and jerk and she tasted the
first sweet drops of his escaping juices.

She sucked mightily and worked on it, lost in the sensations of the union and,
as his shaft began to pulsate, she twisted away, releasing his cock and looked
up at his flushed face and closed eyes.

He groaned softly, clutching at his throbbing manhood and when she stood once
more he shook it at her and laughed with delight.

"You like der rute?" he asked, and then pulling her to him he squeezed her, and
when she felt the hard length of him against her she parted her legs and pushed
her hips at him.

He saw the longing in her eyes and turned her so that her buttocks were against
the edge of the table and pushed gently at her shoulders, making it clear that
he wanted to take her there and then.

"Here?" she asked. "Why not the bed?"

"Quick!" he breathed passionately. "I must Sarah! I not wait!"

She lifted herself until she was sitting on the edge of the heavy, oak table,
remembering her view of Alan and Ruth France some weeks before, when they had
thrashed out their passions in the same way. She lay back carefully so that her
pussy was fully exposed and vulnerable, and her open legs swung clear of the
carpeted floor. Then, raising her head she watched as Peter spat on his hand and
rubbed his cock with moisture.

As he approached her she lay back and stared at the ceiling and then she felt
his fingers at her opening and, when they parted her soft folds, she moaned
slightly in anticipation and opened her thighs at his urging and felt the
swollen head of his cock just inside her opening.

Taking a deep breath she felt the head nuzzle its way into deeper and deeper
until it was fully buried and his pubic bone ground against hers. The withdrawal
was slow and careful and the return swift and sure and she began to enjoy his
gathering pace and tried to match her own movements to coincide, but the
hardness of the table restricted what she could achieve and she gave up,
clenched her cunney muscles and tried to grip the thrusting tool.

Their excitement mounted and Sarah was utterly involved and totally absorbed in
their union until she finally gave in to her growing excitement and, as their
sexual pleasure increased, she was amazed when he suddenly withdrew from her,
pulled her to her feet and, having turned her to face the other way, pushed her
down so that her breasts were crushed against the hard table top. Then, opening
her legs wide and keeping one hand pressed firmly on her upper back, he
skillfully reinserted his straining manhood into her slippery opening.

This was so unexpected that she had no time to protest and, only when he was
safely lodges within her, and his deep thrusts had picked up a new rhythm, did
she begin to relax and enjoy the electric sensations shooting up and down her
sweating body.

Peter's lunges began to gather pace and he gripped her shoulders urging her to
stay with him, but her ability to move was restricted so totally that she could
only squeeze her muscles in an attempt to grip his speeding shaft as it advanced
and withdrew from her.

Suddenly she heard a sharp cry from behind and, clenching her buttocks, she
abandoned her own striving and held him as he bucked and lost control. There
came a breathless and agonized groan from somewhere deep within him followed by
scalding bolts of semen which shot like burning bullets from his jerking cock.

His spasms lasted for more than a minute and, when his hips slowed he collapsed
across her and she bore his weight until she felt his softened manhood slip from
her wet channel and she move to ease him from her.

Struggling to regain her feet she rested against the table's edge and looked
down at him, slumped on the floor. She found her pants and wiped herself and
then knelt beside him while he looked up at her, his perspiring face smiling
with happiness, as she stroked his cheeks with her finger.

"You are happy?" he asked. "For Peter it was very good."

Sarah smiled back at him and held his hand to her face. She thought how young he
looked and wondered how one so youthful could have so much experience.

"I think we should go to bed," she said simply. "The table was very hard."

"Have I hurt?" he asked. "No good for my Sarah?"

"No! Yes, it was very good, but a bed is best," and she pulled him to his feet
and watched as his limp weapon swung like a pale pendulum between his legs.

He followed her gaze and held it in his hand then laughing he swung it up and
down at her.

"It is kaput, mein liebling. You have killed mein brockwurst. I need a doctor to
make well."

He laughed at his own performance and Sarah reached out for it and holding it
firmly in her hand, led him across the room and pulled him up the stairs and, as
they turned to her bedroom she felt it twitch in the palm of her hand and, by
the time they were in her room, the thing was half erect and already beginning
to lift its head and take notice.

Peter admired the bedroom, taking in the low ceiling, low windows and mirrored
dressing table. He liked the huge high bed that dominated the room and, sitting
on its edge he bounce up and down, laughing with delight when the springs began
to protest.

"Ah! A speaking bed!" he cried. "We will make it say many words tonight."

Sarah laughed and moved round to the other side. She pulled the duvet from the
bed and climbed up onto the plain white surface and then watched as Peter
admired her and held out her hand for him to join her.

Soon they were as one with Peter supporting his weight and thrusting his weapon
into her slippery fanny. She was so excited that she had her arms about his neck
and her ankles crossed below his buttocks and, as their excitement flowered she
lowered her legs, altering the angle of her love channel, and stretched them out
towards the bottom corners of the huge bed as Peter's lunges became faster and
deeper.

This time she was able to respond and she bucked her hips to meet his plunging
weapon so that the head was buried deep within her. She gave a warning cry that
her climax was fast approaching and she felt the cock within her begin to
pulsate.

He shouted some words in German which were meaningless, but the agonized
expression of his voice conveyed to Sarah that he was on the very edge of
completion and she moaned out her own encouragement, and begging him to continue
and then the pair seemed to soar towards some distant point and, as they reached
out for release, their combined cries swept from the room and seemed to echo
amongst the trees beyond the small cottage.

Some time later they slipped apart and fell into a deep sleep. Once in the night
Sarah was disturbed as Peter's hand found her breast and she turned, settling
her warm bottom into his lap before slipping once again into unconsciousness.

Sarah woke the next morning to the sounds of a foreign song issuing from her
bathroom and lay there, luxuriating in the sweet aftermath of pleasure and
listening to the strange words. She knew that it was a song of love and smiled
to herself.

Later they ate breakfast together and attempted to talk about their feelings,
but it was difficult with Peter's basic English and Sarah's non existent German.
When Peter tried out his French, Sarah understood a little of what he was
feeling for she too recalled some of her French from her teenage years.

All too soon it was time for him to leave and the pair, sensing that their
relationship was at an end, seemed to feel slightly uncomfortable as they
searched their minds for things to say to each other.

Sarah felt sad, but knew that it was over, and she was content, for each had
both taken and given, and neither had regrets for what had happened during the
last few hours.

As he lifted the rucksack to his shoulder he turned and kissed her softly on the
lips and she held him and snuggled her face into his shoulder.

"Auf Wiedersehen, Sarah. I thank you for love and for comradership."

Sarah watched as he walked away towards the drainage stream and, when he turned
to wave she raised her hand and then returned to the shade of her cottage.

A moment later there was a knock at the door, and Peter stood there with shining
eyes.

"If you please. I come to see you on Friday! I get train from Conway Banhof to
Manchester Airport on Saturday. Is it good?"

Sarah didn't know what to say. She felt guilty, and yet the idea of seeing him
once more before he left the country seemed very tempting. She wondered if Olwen
would find out, but dismissed the thought as irrelevant. Her head began to crowd
with doubts, but she switched them off and said,

"Yes. If you like. That would be nice."

Peter kissed her softly on the cheek.

"We are good friends I think. Friday will be a good day, and I will love you.
Auf Wiedersehen, mein liebling. I go now."

This time she noticed a spring to his step and she watched him for a long time
until he was out of sight on the track above her and, from a point somewhere up
the hill, and well above Penmawr Cottage, she heard a voice cry out,

"Wiedersehen, Sarah!"

She blushed and laughed delightedly, hoping that no one else was on the hill
that morning and wondering what all the echoing commotion was about.

The next few days were the usual round of work and visits. Olwen decided that
part of the roof was damaged and getting worse so for three days two builders
worked on the damaged section, replacing broken Welsh slates and pointing the
ridges and brick chimneys.

She ordered Bob Roberts to work in the long field, earthing up the potatoes and
Ewan was to spend his time working alongside his brother Idris, sheep dipping
and moving them to new and higher pasture.

Two of the cows had been hurt, one on the face and the other on the leg, when a
barbed wire fence had been damaged, probably by vehicles trying to pass on the
narrow lane which skirted Bryn Aber farm. The wire had been dislodged and was
hanging loose in the field and the local vet, Mr. Jones, was sent for and he saw
to the two beasts and ordered them to be kept chained in a pen until their
injuries had healed.

As everyone was busy, Sarah and Olwen repaired the fence, resetting a damaged
post, and putting in two new ones and then replacing and tensioning some fresh
wire with a pair of radishers. It was hard work in the hot afternoon sunshine,
but Sarah loved being outdoors and the two made good the repairs.

"You're certainly looking tanned and a lot fitter these days, Sarah," said
Olwen, "you're hardly recognisable from the pale and tired woman of a few weeks
ago."

"It's the air that's doing it. All that walking from Penmawr and back and
healthy eating, I suppose."

"It's not the sex then?" asked Olwen, bluntly.

"You have a one track mind Olwen Jones, and its stuck somewhere below you
waist."

"Hark at Miss Innocent talking."

Sarah looked up and saw that Olwen had something on her mind.

"Come on. Out with it," Sarah demanded. "I can see from your look that you've
something on your dirty little mind."

"Who, me?"

"Come on."

"Well I'm not the one who's been playing games in the barn, am I?"

"What are you getting at," Sarah asked, suddenly worried by the way the
conversation was going and the knowing look on he companion's face.

"I was listening to someone talking about how exciting barn clearing could be
with the right person, he said."

"I don't follow you," said Sarah, knowing full well that Olwen was about to
enlighten her.

"Don't worry Sarah. I overheard something I wasn't meant to hear and I assure
you that it won't go any further."

"What did you hear?" asked Sarah quietly, knowing with absolute certainty what
Olwen was about to say to her.

"I heard Bob and Ewan discussing women while they were cleaning the tractor the
other evening, and Bob said that you weren't as innocent as you made out."

"I see," said Sarah. "What else did he say."

"Nothing at first, because he spotted me, but at the end of the day I asked him
to come to my office. I quizzed him for a while and after a few threats he told
me what happened while I was away buying those young rams."

"Did he tell you everything?"

"Enough, Sarah. But don't worry. I've warned him that if he breathes one word to
Ewan or anyone else, he'll lose his job and I left him in no doubt that I was
serious."

Sarah looked away for she felt hot and uncomfortable and slightly disloyal over
the episode.

"To be fair, it was partly my fault, Olwen, but he's the sort of man who won't
take no for an answer. In a way I was to blame as I suppose he misunderstood a
conversation I had with him and, when I realised that he was being serious and
not playing about it was too late and I wasn't physically strong enough to stop
what happened."

"Did he hurt you?"

"A bit. Not too much, but it went a lot further than I wanted it to and I
certainly don't want to have the same thing happen again."

"It wasn't rape, was it?"

"No, but it got a bit frightening at one point."

"Has he tried it on since?"

"A bit, but I think he's stopped trying now and given me up as a bad job. In
fact he's hardly spoken to me for a couple of weeks. I'm sorry really, as from
his point of view he was trying to help, but he completely misread my signals
and it all went too far and now he probably thinks the same of me as Tim."

She looked to the road as Bob Roberts came into view on the tractor.

"He's not a bad lad," said Olwen. "He tried it on with me a couple of times when
William was away, but I never mix work with pleasure and like you say, I think
he's more interested in Bob Roberts than anything else."

Sarah smiled weakly, and Olwen came to her and held her.

"Don't let it throw you Sarah. Every man isn't like Bob Roberts or even Mark
Tolmey, or Tim Brooke. There are some decent ones around you know."

"Oh, I know that," she answered brightly.

"And what does that mean?" Olwen asked, sensing something in her reply.

"Never you mind."

"Come on. Let's be knowing."

Finally, and after a great deal of coaxing and skillful tormenting, Sarah told
Olwen about her night with Peter and, when she had finished her story Olwen's
eyes shone with excitement.

"You bloody quiet ones. You're the worst of the lot. Here's me all mouth and
everything up front and thinking I know you like a book, and now you tell me
you're turning Penmawr Cottage into a house of ill repute and specialising in
foreign hikers."

"I'm not! Don't be silly. It was a one off and that's it I promise you."

"And you're not seeing him again? What a pity. I'd have wanted more of that if
I'd been in your shoes," said Olwen.

Sarah quickly dropped her eyes and stared at the ground.

"Look I've lots to do, Olwen. Let's get back to the house."

"You are seeing him again, aren't you?" exclaimed Olwen excitedly. "You can't
fool me, Sarah Brooke!"

Sarah blushed, but still tried to appear calm and in control.

"Well, he did say he might just pop in on his way back to Conway to get a train
for Manchester, you see he's flying home on Saturday. However he did show me his
route and I honestly don't think he'll have time to spare."

"His route!" cried Olwen, laughing. "I bet it's the one spelled r-o-o-t that
he's been showing you! And if I know young men; German, French or Chinese, it
doesn't matter, if they think a bit of hanky panky's on the cards they'll move
heaven and earth to make sure they've time for that, believe you me."

Sarah was very embarrassed, even more so now, knowing that Olwen was absolutely
right in her prediction, and she squirmed where she stood, disliking this
scrutiny of her love life and yet excited by the possibility of another visit
form Peter in two days time.

While she was in the office the next morning, Martyn Peters telephoned and she
blushed the moment she heard his voice. When he realised that it was Sarah and
not Olwen he was speaking to, his tone became more teasing and sensuous.

"Do you want a word with Olwen, Mr. Peter's," she asked, trying to hide her
nervousness.

"It's Martyn and well you know it, and I'm not sure who I want now that I've
heard your voice, Sarah."

"Don't be silly, Martyn. Shall I get her for you?"

"What's the big hurry? Don't you want to talk to me any more, Sarah?"

"Of course. I just............"

"Surely you haven't forgotten me already?"

"No. I only thought..........."

"What are you wearing, Sarah, underneath your dress I mean?"

Sarah almost dropped the phone with surprise and then she began to giggle
nervously, not knowing how to respond.

"Are you wearing stockings today? It's so warm isn't it?"

Sarah thought it was hot, never mind warm and, try as she might, the memory of
her night with Martyn kept intruding upon her thoughts and her mouth went dry.
She tried to recover the initiative and coughed to clear her throat.

"Martyn, I haven't the time to play silly games. Do you want to speak to Olwen,
leave a message or what?"

"Suppose so," he said petulantly. "Would you mind getting her for me, I'm going
to sit here and wait and picture your long slim legs and concentrate on that
little naked area between your stocking tops and your wispy knickers. There,
I've got it!" he whispered. "I can see you now in my mind's eye, all soft and
feminine and utterly desirable. I can................."

"You are a dirty old man, Martyn Peters!" said Sarah., laughing and rather
flattered, "and I'm not listening to any more of your stupid talk. I'll get
Olwen."

She put the phone down, took a deep breath to control her swirling emotions and
walked thought he hall, and into the yard.

Olwen came running when Sarah shouted who it was and, as Sarah stood aside to
let her pass, she saw Bob Roberts standing by the barn door and staring straight
towards her. His steady gaze seemed to hold her and suddenly he lifted his hand
and beckoned her with his forefinger. She couldn't look away at first for she
was curious as to what he was up to and, as she began to walk towards him he
suddenly laughed aloud and clutched his groin with his other hand.

She stopped in her tracks, gave him an unwavering look of hatred and shaking her
head furiously followed Olwen indoors. Olwen came back through the hall and,
seeing Sarah's flushed cheeks said,

"Don't tell me Martyn's been up to his usual. Chatting you up was he? He's a
devil, especially if he senses that there's someone in the room with you. He
only does it to embarrass you, there's no harm in him. You'll get used to him
Sarah, but wait 'til I see him!"

That Thursday night Sarah lay in bed, listening to the breeze rushing through
the tree tops outside. She wondered where Peter was, and hoped that he wasn't
too far away from her. She tried to analyse her feelings and came to the
conclusion that she and Peter were lovers without a past or a future, but each
would get something from their meeting and that would be it; simple, direct and
with no messy complications, as there would be if ever she were to allow Bob
Roberts to have his way.

She recalled him beckoning her and openly rubbing his groin and shuddered when
she recalled his strength and the anger just below the surface. She was sure
that Peter had no such anger in him and smiled when she thought of his openness
and seeming innocence and knew that he was a giver not a taker, and with him, an
almost complete stranger, she felt confident that if he returned to Penmawr
Cottage it would be for her pleasure and satisfaction as much as his own.

Friday came, and after a short stint in the office she drove out to Llandudno
and shopped for food and drink in the big Asda supermarket on the outskirts of
the resort. She drove into the town centre and parked and, almost on impulse,
dashed into one of the stores and purchased new stockings and a few items of
underwear. She went back to her car to store her items of underwear and then
called in one of the cafés for a coffee and, after a short walk along the
promenade among the summer tourists, drove back to her cottage and sat outside
in the warm sunshine.

She tried to settle down and read a novel, but her mind wasn't on the story and
she caught herself continuously glancing up the track on which Peter had left
the previous Sunday morning.

She eventually fell asleep and when she woke the sun was much lower in the blue
sky and she felt hungry. Once indoors she warmed some pitta bread and filled
them with salad and cheese and then sat in her favourite evening spot drinking
red wine and enjoying her snack and she stayed there until the sun dipped into
the valley and then moved indoors feeling disappointed and rather let down.

"There's still time for him to come," she thought, but wondered if Olwen was
wrong about her assurances that he'd keep his date and wondered if the route
he'd planned to take was over ambitious making him far behind with his schedule.

The phone rang at 8.30pm and a giggling Olwen asked her if her timing was bad.

"No. Not at all," she said quietly.

"Not here yet?"

"No. I told you his plans and visits were very ambitious and I reckon that he
hasn't time to make a detour back up here."

"Not much of a man if he misses and opportunity like this, is he?"

"Maybe he's found a better opportunity. Perhaps someone nearer his own age or
someone who can speak his language," said Sarah sadly. "There's plenty of pretty
girls on holiday in Wales at this time of year."

"Shall I come up for an hour, Sarah?" asked Olwen. "I can easily put Martyn
off."

"No, silly. I'm all right. I only half expected him anyway, and there's no
future in it is there? He's flying home tomorrow. Anyway I'm into a new book, so
I'm going to shut up this house of ill repute as you call it, curl up with my
book and have an early night."

"Poor old you," said Olwen.

"Poor old me? It's time I sorted myself out. Anyway I'm perfectly happy and I
wouldn't dream of depriving you of Martyn Peters. Goodness, it must be ages
since you and he had a night of passion. Let me see; last Wednesday was it?
That's ages ago, isn't it?"

"No need for sarcasm Sarah Thompson. Anyway, if you want to you could drive down
and join us. Martyn would love that, and I could just about tolerate it. You
could put on................"

"Olwen, I'm fine! I'm certainly not coming down there to join you two. God!
You'll be the death of me the way you carry on. Anyway I'm not in the mood. See
you Monday, Olwen, and thanks, you're a real friend. Good night."

She replace the phone and went to the kitchen to make a drink. She decided to
leave the small window light on, just in case Peter was late and, picking up her
book she climbed the stairs and went into her room.

She lay in the semi darkness for a while, thinking of Peter, remembering his
face and the feel of his hands. She thought of Olwen's invitation to join Martyn
and her, and soon her hands were at her breasts and she imagined the three of
them naked and writhing in passion in Olwen's bedroom.

She felt the dampness at her groin, but stopped herself giving in the temptation
to open the bedside drawer and use the sensuous dildo laying within. She turned
on the light and settled to read the thriller she had started abd, before long
she struggled to concentrate on the words so she turned off her bedside light
and settled to sleep.

In her dream she was trapped in a small room in the turret of a castle. There
was no escape and she had no idea how she'd got there and for what reason she
was being held captive. However she was sure that she'd be rescued and listened
as a sharp whistle sounded from somewhere below. She heard the gravel rattle
against the wall about her window and, when a piece of flint his the pane with a
sharp smack, she suddenly woke from her dream and sat up.

Again a shower of gravel hit the wall and sill and she realised that she was
really awake and that this was real. She leapt from the bed, heart pounding, and
longing for it to be Peter standing below and trying to wake her and when she
opened the sash window and peered out she heard,

"Hello Sarah, mein liebling," from a whispered voice in the darkness below.

"Peter. Oh, I'm so glad you came back," she said quietly, "don't step back Peter
or you'll fall down the bank. Keep to the wall and come round to the door."

Naked, except for her wrap, she left the room and hurried below and, sliding
back the bolt and turning the key she threw open the door and in a moment she
was in his arms and kissing his face.

She pulled him in and he dropped his rucksack and stood there with a big grin on
his face. He looked bronzed and his hair was even fairer than she remembered,
and in his faded T shirt and small shorts he looked all the world like some
handsome God from another land.

"Would you like something to eat?" she asked.

"No., but a drink I would wish," he answered

She poured a long glass of lemonade and threw a couple of ice cubes in from the
freezer compartment and he drank it quickly.

"I am late," he said seriously. "I am bad coming at night."

"What happened?" she asked. "I thought you weren't coming."

"I say I visit my Sarah. I have lost my way, and then I pay for a taxi to this
farm you showed me on map. Then I walk up hill very fast to see Sarah," and he
smiled at her proudly. "I not miss forget Sarah. This is not possible. I think
of you all the days. I have not sleep at night and want you. You understand?"

"Yes. Oh yes, I understand Peter. I've thought about you too!" and she ran to
his arms and they held each other closely and he kissed her and ran his hands
over her back and squeezed her buttocks.

"I shower, please?"

"Of course. Come on."

While he showered Sarah drew on a new pair of white stockings, fastened them to
a flimsy suspender belt and then slipped on the white teddy she had bought that
afternoon. It had white laces to tie up the front and was held up by two thin
shoulder straps. She decided against putting on a pair of briefs and examined
her reflection in the dressing table mirror and saw that the effect was totally
erotic and, as she heard him singing as he dried himself, she quickly brushed up
her hair, piling it high on her head and fastened it with combs and grips.

She turned off the light and crept over to the low window sill and sat there
waiting and soon the door to the bathroom opened and she heard Peter feeling his
way into her bedroom.

"Sarah. Are you there?" he whispered. " I not see the room."

She heard his hand on the door and then he was inside and in the dim light she
could see his huge frame in the doorway. Peter's hand felt for the bedside light
and suddenly the room was lit by a soft pink glow.

Sarah gasped at his nakedness, noticing the bronzed and hairless body, and then
she smiled sexily as his mouth gaped with surprise. He straightened from the
bedside table, admiring her lovely form sitting there and his eyes filled with
excitement and anticipation at the sheer allure of this woman who had dressed in
such a seductive and exotic fashion.

"I am so happy. You are very beautiful, Sarah. Ich lieben dich mein fraulien.
Mein Sarah, Ich lieben dich!"

She stood up and he admired her lovely neck and the jutting breasts beneath the
see through garment. He saw too the darkened hair at her groin and the white
stockings and slender, naked thighs but he was unable to find words either in
English or German so his mouth opened and closed like a landed fish.

When she held out her arms to him he almost ran to her, and soon she was in his
arms and they were kissing in a kind of frenzy that went on and on.He sat on the
chair by the window and pulled Sarah to him, parting her legs with his knees so
that she stood above him and his eyes were level with her jutting breasts.

His soft hands caressed her naked buttocks and he admired the downy hair at her
groin. He looked at the erotic garment, and when he understood the lace
fastenings his fingers played with the bow that held the thing together.

Sarah stroked his hair and pulled his face into her bosom and flexed her breasts
so that they jerked in his face and he licked their exposed roundness with his
hot tongue.

"I'm so glad you are here, Peter," she murmured softly, "I was really afraid you
wouldn't have time to see me."

Peter, whose mouth was full of breast and silk couldn't answer, but he pulled
her into him as if in reply.Then he lifted his head and looked into her eyes and
she bent forward, exposing the lovely valley between her breasts and soon their
lips met in a kiss so passionate that it lasted a lifetime.

Sarah was breathless when he finally pulled away from her and then she felt his
fingers at the lace fastening. Pulling at the knot he loosened the front so that
most of her lovely round globes were exposed to his passionate gaze and then he
stood up and pushed her against the edge of the bed and, as she overbalanced he
held her back and lowered her so that she lay flat with her feet just touching
the floor.

He kissed her again before dropping to his knees then, as his hands pulled her
thighs apart she felt his hot kisses on the soft and sensitive skin of her inner
thighs.She sighed happily as his kisses travelled up towards the centre and
moaned ecstatically as his tongue touch her outer lips and began to invade the
slippery groove.

Her cunney seemed to open of its own accord, and then his long tongue was inside
and lapping at the sweet juices and then Peter's questing tongue searched every
corner, and when it located the hard little clitoris it began to quiver
exquisitely, causing Sarah to lift her hips in response.

As she became more and more aroused, she felt his hands reach up, and then the
lace drawstring was pulled away and the garment lay open, exposing completely
her lovely coral-tipped breasts to his soft hands and gentle caresses.

Her head spun with pure excitement, and she feared that she might faint from the
sheer ecstasy she was feeling. Her hands fluttered at her mouth and she tried to
suppress the cry that threatened to escape as she felt herself lost in a fantasy
of emotion but she moaned softly as her breasts began to swell and the tips to
harden even more when his tongue quivered at her pleasure button. She reached
for his head and held him fast, and when his long tongue hardened and slipped
inside her cunney, she cried out aloud when waves of passion raced through her
lovely body and carried her along with them.

When she was done the descent was almost painful, such was the power of her
orgasm so that, only when she felt his tongue leave her cunney and his head lift
from her thighs did she sigh and shudder and begin to sense her return to earth,
and she sighed as she basked in the afterglow of passion..

Peter lay by her and held her to him, stroking her soft shoulders and damp hair.
He felt his erection, and smiled, knowing that his own desperate needs would
soon be taken care of by the lovely woman at his side. Sarah raised herself onto
an elbow and Peter once more admired the lovely form of her half exposed bosom.

"You like?" he asked.

"Wonderful, Peter. You're a good lover."

His hands parted the silky teddy and she sat up to help as he removed the
garment from her and then stood and faced him and he admired the wispy garter
belt and white stocking tops. He saw the glistening moisture on her reddened
cunney lips and he licked his own lips in anticipation.

Sarah bent and began to take off the rest of her garment and he watched the
jiggle of her breasts before she straightened and smiled at him and then,
pushing him back onto the bed she knelt before him, and taking his penis in her
hands she began to roll it between her hot palms. She could feel the power in
his tool and thumbed the darkly swollen head.

Opening her lips she dipped her head so that the weapon lodged in her mouth and
she tentatively attempted to take in the whole shaft while Peter remained as
still as he was able, knowing what she was about and not wishing to frighten
her.

Soon she had the whole thing enclosed, and as she lifted away she tightened her
lips and heard a groan escape from her partner and she looked at him, smiling
happily into his excited eyes, and then lowering herself once more she began
sucking noisily at his twitching cock.

Peter lay back and let the pleasure and excitement roll over him and was soon
lost in a passion so deep that that he begged for release. He tried to warn her
of his fast approaching climax, but he couldn't close his mouth to say the words
while his forehead broke out in fine perspiration and then he was lost and
unable to do anything but go with the flow.

Sarah was aware of what was happening and her instinct told her to let go and
lift away, but she too was filled with the curiosity of one who has never been
so far before, and her own hesitation made the decision for her.

She almost gagged as the weapon began to swell and then the hot bolts of passion
spit out with such force that they hit the back of her throat and completely
filled her hot little mouth and she strove manfully until he was done and, even
then she bravely held on until the swelling receded and she could breathe a deep
sigh of relief as the limp charger slipped from her tired lips.

The lay together for a long while and Sarah watched as the soft moonlight
appeared at the small window. Peter said nothing, and his breathing sounded even
and heavy. He too saw the moon and felt a shudder run through his body; an after
shock from his recent orgasm and then he smiled as the light touched Sarah's
shoulder and he waited for it to cross her face and he could see that she too
was awake and enjoying the respite from their passion.

He lifted a hand and touched her soft cheek and felt the smile at his touch and
she turned to look at him, watching his quiet face and the rise and fall of his
chest.

"I thought you were asleep, Peter," she whispered.

"No. I was seeing you," he replied.

"Are you happy?" she asked.

"Mein liebling!" he cried and pulled her to him.

Sarah loved the heat of their bodies and moulded herself to him and then pushed
her breasts against him and felt the answering response from his half sleeping
weapon.

She giggled softly as the leviathan began to rise and soon her questing hands
were full of his rigid manhood and she squeezed it gently. Peter caressed her
breasts and bit her shoulder softly, and then slipped a hand down her body and
fingered the wetness between her thighs. She rolled onto her back, raised her
knees and parted her legs and then touched his arm and pulled him towards her
and, with a sigh of happiness, grasped his neck and pulled his face down to
hers.

Peter knelt between her open thighs and, holding his weapon, he slid the swollen
head up and down the wet groove. He laughed with delight as Sarah began to raise
her hips and entice him into her, and suddenly he missed his beat, and the thing
entered the slippery blackness and she held him, trapped within her.

He lowered himself onto her and then they were joined in their own dance, like
two champions who were both perfectly matched and wonderfully balanced. Sarah
had him lodged deeply inside and she marvelled at how completely he filled her,
and the way he seemed to sense what was the right thing to do. She felt that she
wanted to set the pace and before long they were speeding along so expertly that
they felt as if they were one.

She loved the steady withdrawal, confident that he would not dislodge himself
completely, and then the dizzying plunge that filled her swirling mind with tiny
stars and her heated loins with breathless passions.

All too soon she knew that she was about to lose control and felt the first
pulsing throbs from Peter. She raised her head to snatch a deep breath and then,
as the two began to quicken, she felt her heart begin to hammer and heard his
first demands for release.

When it came it was high and sharp and so intense that they thought they would
never survive the experience. The bed clanked and shook so violently that it was
in serious danger of collapsing as the throes surged on and on.

Neither heard the other, for their own cries were so fervent that they blotted
out everything but their own needs so that, when their jerking bodies stilled
and reason began to return, they saw that the moon had moved to the other
window, lighting up their sweat streaked bodies and causing them to glisten
magically like bejeweled lovers from a book of Mystical Tales of the East, as
they lay side by side, trying to come to terms with their combined ecstasies,

They didn't speak, and as the moonlight slipped from the bedroom they slept the
sleep of the exhausted and didn't wake until the chattering birds woke them
sometime during the late morning.