Fetish village stories
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"If I'm considering painting you nude, Mary, I think you had better stop calling me 'Major Jones' and use my Christian name." He was even more surprised when Mary told him, while holding my hand, that she had already retired as the village whore, and that she would be joining me for Communion at tomorrow's Morning Service. I wrote him a cheque for the annual rent, the army equipment and fifty pounds to pay the men to work on and in the barn. We arranged the date and time of the wedding, 12 noon on the Saturday before Christmas, that we would have no choir but wanted a peal of bells when we left the church. "I thought I detected an officer's hand in the work on that barn, Major Jones," he said.
Wendy, her best friend, had asked if she'd go and open the new toilets which had just been installed at her village hall. For three years Anne had helped Wendy with fund raising for the new loos and played an active part on the village hall committee. Knowing Wendy as I do, I think she would rather have had the Queen here to open the new toilets and this Sale of Work but Her Majesty was otherwise engaged and so you've got to make do with me instead. With that she stepped back, another larger spurt of pee escaping into her knickers, and holding herself was escorted by Wendy at great speed to the new ladies loo.