Yorkshire Tea

This is a little story that I wrote for my girlfriend Helen… She liked it, and I hope you will too. As it’s my first ever erotic writing, I would really appreciate your comments and/or rating… Thanks, and a big kiss, BB.

Yorkshire Tea

A cold grey dawn with swirling flurries of snowflakes had given way to a warm, sunny Sunday afternoon by time Joe and Helen left the house. Fresh powdery snow on either side of the road reflected the bright sunlight. Huge droplets of water fall from the tips of the overhanging branches as they left the car and walked along the forest path.

Fresh out of the warm shower, Helen tip-toed back into the bedroom to get dressed. Joe looked admiringly at Helen’s long slim back and smooth round bottom, as she hunted for clothes in her wardrobe. He glanced across at the silky red string lying on the floor next to the pleated black kilt-skirt she had destroyed the night before. What an excellentent concert, and how proud he had felt to be there with this gorgeous, sexy girl.

Helen pulled a very sensitive-looking pair of white panties from the shelf, and with a cheese, knowing wink to her still-sleepy boyfriend, slipped into them. They completely covered her shapedly buttons and the tops of her thighs, and came up to just under her cute belly button. “Thermal… need them for a day like this” she said.

“No you don’t” he replied. “Not with me here to keep you warm.” Helen just smiled at him as she pulled on her jeans. “Are you going to make that coffee you promised me then?” she asked. Joe pulled the warm duvet over his head, but only for a brief moment, before hoping out of bed to put the percolator on the stove.

The morning had passed slowly, happily, reading beside the fire and drinking endless cups of Yorkshire tea. After his slow start, Joe has been very attentive, putting the water on to boil again before Helen had even finished her previous drink. By half past twelve the wind had died down and it had stopped snowing. Coming in with their coats over his arm, Joe suggested that they go out straight away to make the most of the break in the weather.

They walked through the light snow which glistened in the afternoon sun. The forest path led a long way from the road and up into a broad meadow. One summer evening they had camped here and cooked dinner on an open fire. Now, the ground was frozen hard, and the huge tree stump where they had sat and eaten their meal looked forlorn, poking up nakedly from its bed of snow.

Further up the paddock stood an old barn with crumbling stone walls, surrounded in summer by wait-high nettles, now part hidden by snow drifts. Joe, always fascinated by derelict buildings, heaven opened the wooden door and stepped cautiously inside. The barn had one small window, opaque with dust and dirt, a door at each end, and was nearly empty save for a deep stone basin, some dark stained wooden palettes and a few bales of hay. Helen followed Joe inside and smiled at him; he always wanted to explore dirty old buildings like this.

“I just want to try something new” he said. “Would you like to try?”

Intrigued, she nodded her agreement. He took off his backpack and throw it onto the hay-strewn floor, then undid his belt buckle and pulled the black leather belt out from its hoops. “Give me your hands” he asked, leaning forward to kiss her gently on the lips, tasting her full lower lip with the tip of his tongue.

She finally held out her hands, wondering what he would do. He looped the middle of the belt once around each of her slim wrists, then tied a wide knot in the leather. Standing on a palette, he flipped one end of the belt over a wooden roof beam that ran from one end of the hut to the other, and deftly buckled the metal clap. Her arms were held up in the air, just a little above her head, the soft leather comfortable on her wrists but securing her firmly in place.

Joe stroked Helen’s body through her woolly jumper and jeans. The wool felt itchy but good against her skin, and despite the cool damp air of the barn, her body felt flushed and warm with excitement. She felt a familiar tingling between her legs as he caressed her back, her waist, her hips and then her breasts. He kissed her passwordately on the mouth. Then he bent to pick up the backpack, and pulled out a black silk headscarf. He flipped it over a few times in his had, double it up to make a perfect blindfold, then covered her eyes and tied the bandana loosely at the back of her head.

Joe turned on the tap, and sat down on an old bale of hay. Water, brown at first, then running clear, sloshed and splashed from the tap into the deep stone trough. He took a book from his backpack and started to read.

“Er, Joe… what are you doing my love? Are you there?”asked Helen.

“Oh, don’t worry my love, I’m right here. Just relaxing and reading a little bit.”

“What ?!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “Well… well… then could you untie me now please, I really need to pee.”

“Do you?” asked Joe, feigning surprise. He must have made her at least four big mugs of tea that morning, while he himself drank half of a much smaller cup each time.
He put down the book, got up, and gently stroked her tights. “So, do you promise me not to wear those big, boring knickers again?”, he asked.

“Eh?! Oh, my thermals? No… I like my big pants… They’re comfy. Now please, can you undo this belt? And please! Turn off that tap!”

“But I don’t like your big granny pants my love… It’s a shame to see such a beautiful body hidden like that. I want you to promise not to wear them again, at least not when I’m with you.” He moved behind her and softly caresed her breasts again, then massed her stomach, just above the waist.

“Mmm… that’s better. Well… okay, I suppose. Oh, but please will you let me down now? I’m really burning… I don’t think I can wait until we get back home.”

“Are you sure?” asked Joe.

“Yes, I’m sure I can’t wait… I’ll have to pee here.”

“No, I mean are you sure about the big boring knickers? And are you sorry that you wore boring knickers for me today?” he demanded, rubbing her stomach and hips more firmly.

“Yes, yes, ok, I’m sorry. Now please!” she moaned, her skin reddening with embarrassment as an image of her having to walk back to the car with cold, soaking trousers stole into her mind. Along with it, another image came to her, of meeting someone else out for an afternoon walk, maybe somebody she knew, and having them stare at her ‘little accident’… and then of having to sit, squelching and uncomfortable in the car until she could run into her house and hide…

“Hmm… you don’tt really sound sorry enough,” he replied. “I’m just going to read a little bit more, until you’re quite sure that you’re sorry,” said Joe.

He picked up the book again, but didn’t read, as he was far more amused watching Helen shift her weight from one leg to another and squeeze her thighs together to try to control her desperation. The water continued to pour into the big basin, tormenting the poor girl as she struggled against the pressure on her bladder.

“Oh… I am sorry my love. I’m really sorry I wore big boring pants today…” she cried.

“And you won’t do it again when I’m here?” Joe asked. He put the book down again and began to rub her pussy through her trousers.

“Ohhhh… please….” she whimpered. The tingling feeling was back more strongly than ever, despite her awkward situation. He rubbed steadily, inevitably, maddeningly against her pussy, kissing her hard on the mouth to silence her pleasures.

Then, with a swift movement, he slid his hands under her jumper and onto her breasts, finding her erect nipples and squeezing them hard through the thin material of her bra.

It was too much for the beautiful, bound, blindfolded girl. The surprise of the sudden pain made her forget to keep her muscles tightly clanced, and with a little yelp of defeat, she let her body relax.

Her jeans became dark, at first just a small patch between her legs, until with a suppressed moan she gave in to the overwhelming urge, and the shadow spread across the front and back of her trousers and slowly down the inside of each leg.

Joe watched in absolute delight as she moved her feet backwards and forwards, trying to regain some control over her body, but her effort was in vain. Helen moaned again in a deep and husky voice, and Joe waited silently, sitting on the hay bale and watching the results of his work. After a few moments, he got up and kissed Helen again fully on the lips, stroking her hair then rubbing her legs through the wet denim.

“Hmm… we’d better clean you up” he smiled. He undid the button and the zip, and eased the warm wet jeans down her thighs. Helen just whispered a shy, quiet sight.

Joe eased the jeans over her boots, then stood back to look at his girlfriend, standing in the middle of a dilapidated barn with her arms above her head and her big white knickers plastered tightly to her body, her long slim legs descending into tall black boots. After a second’s pause, he slid the panties down her legs and pulled them off. Helen shivered with embarrassment to be so naked, so exposed, and so… inconvenienced in a way that she had never experienced before. But she had to admit that she felt very turned-on by being so helpless, and by having disgraced herself in such a way.

Joe delved into the backpack again, and pulled out a new yellow sponge, of the type you would use to wash a car. He took off the plastic wrapping, ran it under the cold water and squeezed it out. Moving her ankles apart as far as he could, he started to sponge Helen’s long smooth legs, up from her knees to her thighs, up from her tighs to her bottom, and rubbing in gentle circles, wiping her stomach, taking care to ticle her navel. Then he plunged the sponge back into the cold water, and squeezed it out again, returned to rub it firmly between Helen’s open legs.

The cold water on her warm pussy made her whimper again, but she seemed practically speechless while this somehow caring, somehow humiliating task was being completed. Joe undid the silk headscarf and quickly stroked her thighs, bottom, and legs with it until they were dry. He turned off the tap, and taking another small scarf from his pocket, he finally wiped between her legs, noticing as he pulled the clothes away from her lips that it was both warmer and wetter than he had expected.

Joe smiled at his work. 'Just to be sure… are you going to wear boring underwear again my love?’ he asked.

‘No’ whispered Helen. ‘I promise you, never.’

‘Good then’ he said, stroking her thighs and pussy with his warm hands.

A pleasant surprise remained in the rucksack. Joe reached in and pulled out what was probably Helen’s smallest, tightest string, made of dark blue silk, and a long, warm, black skirt. He slipped the string over her boots and up her legs, hoisting it perhaps a little too high at the sides of her hips so that it pressed very firmly against her still-tingling lips. Then he helped her step into the skirt, and fastened it round her Waist by zipping it up at the side. Finally, he reached above her head and untied the belt, massaging her rather numb feeling shoulders, arms and hands as he let them down at her side.

Hugging her in his warm arms, rubbing her back firmly to ensure that the warmth would return to her quickly, he whispered in her ear ‘Well, my love?’.

‘Thank you thank you,’ she whispered back. ‘You made my fantasy come true… and you were just as mean as I wanted you to be!’.

They walked back hand-in-hand across the snowy fields and paths and were soon heading home in the warm car. At home in her steamy bathroom, Joe washed his darling Helen tenderly under a pleasantly hot shower. He paid special attention to her sensitive nipples, and she was soon squirming a little under his touch and wiggling her hips in a delightful way. Leaning her forward so that her hands were on the side of the bath, Joe gently slipped his thick cock into her hot, wet pussy, and slowly, slowly made love to her until she came hard, involuntarily squeezing his strong, hard penis with her overly-stimulated muscles.

Joe held her tight in his strong arms, keeping himself inside her until her climax subsided. Then,gently withdrawing, he wrapped her in a warm towel, and walked out of the bathroom. He stopped at the door.

“Cup of tea, my angel ?” he asked.

Helen beamed a broad smile at him, and shut the bathroom door.

—–
BB