Woody Allen once said that sex was the most fun he'd ever had without laughing. But laughing and sex are not mutually exclusive. Horniness brings on undignified behaviour, and it is all the more fun if we are in on the joke. This blog is a celebration of the funny side of sex and the sexy side of humour. As an author of erotic stories I like to show that sex is more fun when it is playful and silly.

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Monday, May 23, 2011

Aleese's Hot Buns (A Fragment from the Archives)

At one stage I experimented with the idea of writing sexy little serials inspired by the models at my favourite porn site Girls Out West and including some of the other fans from the message boards as characters. Here is an example. I never did get past episode one. So it is a bit like those annoying television shows which get cancelled while on a cliff hanger. But, who knows, maybe if someone lets me know what they think should happen next I'll write more. Or maybe you'd like to be a resident at Gow Manor.


Aleese’s Hot Buns


The real Aleese
Aleese had been working at Gow Manor for about a month. She enjoyed it far more than working in the bread factory, where the famous writer Mr. Scribbler had first discovered her while doing research for an article on the multigrain scandal. Bread with dead weevils in it was being passed off as multigrain, and the Scribbler had been determined to get to the bottom of it. But the bottom he had got to was Aleese’s. He’d seen her bending over a hot oven in her tight white baker’s pants and had given her a playful pat on the rump. He’d then slid his hand between her butt-cheeks and gently tickled the cloth that was pulled tight over her hot hidden pussy.

“Wouldn’t you like to come and work for me?” he asked her with a warm and mischievous smile. “This factory is going down. I have the dirt on them.”




And so she had come to work at Scribbler’s country seat - a luxurious manor house at which he entertained all his friends from the aristocracy. Noone used their real name when staying at Gow Manor. Mr Scribbler was the pseudonym under which a prominent novelist wrote exposés for the gutter press.

Aleese’s job at the manor was to bake hot buns for the guests to enjoy as part of their continental breakfast. Not only would she bake them, but she had the job of delivering them to the guest’s rooms, a job for which she would slip out of her baker’s uniform and into a skimpy maid’s outfit, with a frilly skirt that stuck out and revealed her tighty-stretched silk panties when she bent down, and low cut neckline designed to display her soft pale breasts to the best advantage.

Delivering the hot buns to the guest’s rooms was the part of the job that Aleese loved. The guests at Gow Manor were a horny bunch, and Aleese loved being able to go into their bedrooms each morning. Most of the guests enjoyed taking breakfast in bed. Aleese loved to tease them by bending over more than she needed to to place a plate of buns on the bedspread next to them. She particularly loved it when she could see a gentleman’s cock grow long and stand up tall beneath the sheets in appreciation of the show. And thankfully the guests of Gow Manor were not ones to keep their hands to themselves. Aleese loved to have her bottom and boobs fondled and a good deal of fondling went on each morning as she did her rounds.




Some of her favourite guests were : old Mr. Fancier, who would entertain her with funny dirty poems which made her laugh ; Mr. Hulk, an old school chum of Mr. Scribbler’s and the only guest who was not an aristocrat, working as he did as a salesman for a particular new style of leisure footwear designed especially for visits to the beach; Mr. Anubis, an Egyptologist who showed his affection for Aleese by goosing her right between her panty-clad bottom cheeks in the most exciting manner; and Mr. and Mrs. Roops, the only married couple amongst the guests.

Mrs. Roops was a very heavy sleeper, and once Mr. Roops showed Aleese his patented way of waking her from her slumbers. The lovely auburn-haired Mrs. Roops was asleep on her belly. Mr. Roops put a finger to his lips to indicated that Aleese should not say a word. He then pulled down the bedclothes and lifted Mrs. Roop’s lace-trimmed silk nightie to display her firm naked bottom. Gently prying apart the cheeks of his wife’s bottom, Mr. Roops bent  down and gently licked her hairy butt-hole until she began to moan softly. Aleese was greatly aroused by seeming Mr. Roops do this. She wished he would lick her butt-hole too. But she knew she mustn’t linger over her deliveries or Annie would tell her off, and maybe even spank her.

Annie was the chief downstairs maid, and Aleese considered her something of a tyrant. She was an attractive woman with a particularly lovely pair of legs, with softly dimpled knees, something she was, to Aleese’s mind, quite vain about. It seemed she was always lifting her skirt and admiring her own legs in the mirror when Aleese reported for duty. So  far Aleese had never been spanked by Miss Annie, but she had heard from other servant girls that Annie’s right hand could leave quite an impression on a naughty girl’s bottom.


Aleese's buns
Apart from Mr. Scribbler’s friends, the Manor was also frequented by a constant stream of gorgeous courtesans. Aleese would often find them in bed with the guests or wandering the halls clad in the skimpiest and sexiest of outfits, or even nothing at all. “My house is Liberty Hall,” Mr. Scribbler was in the habit of declaring loudly, and he meant it.

Delivering buns to Mr. Scribbler’s room was another favourite part of the morning for Aleese. Mr. Scribbler was an eccentric gentleman and was always up and out of bed when Aleese entered his room. “Inspiration has crept in with the dawn,” he would inform her when she came in to put a plate of toasty buns down on the desk at which he was writing stark naked. “Ah, my love, what would I do without your buns!” he would sighed, throwing his arm around her waist to pull her close and plant a kiss upon the exposed flesh of her bosom. And sometimes he would reach around and slide his hand right down inside the seat of her panties to fondle her warm cheeks. All the time Aleese’s eyes were fixed on his cock which was invariably stiffly erect and dribbling copious amounts of pre-cum. Aleese always wondered if he had been wanking just before she entered his room.

By the time Aleese had finished her delivery round she was always really horny. So far she hadn’t had sex with Mr. Scribbler or any of his guests. Annie timed her on her delivery round and so, though many a guest had proposed some hanky panky, she hadn’t taken them up on the offer for fear of receiving a spanking from Miss Annie.

But once she had reported her delivery round completed, she found she could sneak back into the pantry for a wank. She would take off her panties and throw herself down on the big sacks of flour. There she would gently finger her warm wet pussy and tickle herself on her stiff little clit as she fantasied about pulling down the sheets of one of the guest’s beds and taking his hard cock  into the soft, warm wetness of her mouth. She loved sucking cock and it was ages since she had had the opportunity. Other times she would fantasise about being gangbanged by all her favourite guests. And if she was really feeling naughty she would imagine that Miss Annie was watching the orgy through a keyhole and wanking her wet pussy. At other times she fantasised about the gorgeous courtesans with names like Dandy, Miranda and Page, and what their experienced hands and tongues could do to her tender body.


Miranda
Most of all though, she loved to fantasise about being fucked by Big Kev. Big Kev was the delivery man who brought the flour each day, heaving it into the pantry over his big muscly shoulder. Aleese could tell he had a really big cock, because she had seen it swinging around inside his overalls. Obviously he never wore any underpants.

“Fuck my juicy cunt with your rock hard cock, Big Kev!” Aleese was yelling at the top of her voice as she slid the middle finger of her left hand in and out of her juicy wet pussy and fingered her tight warm little bottom-hole with the index finger or her right.

It was just at that moment that the pantry door opened and a figure was silhouetted in the doorway.

To be continued...


The legendary Dandy

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