Ali grabbed her keys and was ready to drive down to the village when the doorbell rang. Damn she thought I don’t want any interruption now. She looked out the view hole in the front door and it was the Vicar’s wife – affectionately or sarcastically know as Mrs Marple. The Vicar’s wife in English county life is the doyen of everything volunteer and Marjorie was no exception. She ruled all the church ladies with an iron fist. Even the women like Ali who weren’t strictly church goers came up against her iron will through the Women’s Institute or the Adult Education Centre, of which she was chairwoman. Name a village occasion and she was there with her OBE pinned to her enormous chest. The woman had a forty inch chest with double or even triple D cup size. She was an even size from there to the ground with a set of ankles that would make any rugby player envious. Her face could stop a clock and she must have inherited her tweed twin set wardrobe from her grandmother. She had taken recently to walking with a cane in orthopaedic shoes and her thick pop socks. Staunchly conservative she was the model of virtue.
Ali opened the door for Marjorie who was delivering the monthly village magazine, which she was editor and main contributor and the parish office printed under her guidance of course.
“Oh – good morning Marjorie. Can I help you with anything?” What a question and as soon as she said it she regretted saying it.
“Since you ask dear – could I have a glass of water and a short sit down, my feet are killing me. I’ve been to the top of the village delivering this month’s Village Voice.” She had a canvas bag on her shoulder filled with the magazines and it was clearly digging into her flesh. Ali stood aside to let her in and she turned to walk in the kitchen.
“I think I can do better than a glass of water – how about a small Sherry or a nice pot of Fortnum’s Royal Blend.”
“How about both dear – I am bushed. This farmer’s market jute bag with these small straps are not meant to carry weight – my shoulders and neck are killing me.” Ali could see her discomfort as she let the bag fall to the floor.
“Well come in the living room and have a seat.” Marjorie waddled her way into the living room and Ali set about pouring a tall sherry and put the kettle on the boil. She went in the living room with the crystal sherry glass full to the brim. Marjorie had slipped off her shoes without so much as a by your leave. She had a habit of dominating any area she was in and anybody she was with. Ali sat on the couch.
“You poor dear – Marjorie you do so much for the village.” Of course Ali was being sarcastic – but she never realised. Marjorie took the sherry glass and downed it in one swallow. She began to rub her shoulders. Ali left the room to bring back the tea. “You know Marjorie when John broke his back he suffered from terrible neck and shoulder pains. I took that course at the village hall in remedial massage and got pretty good.”
“Oh yes I remember – the chap from the Royal Orthopaedic Hospital in London taught the class. One of the Vicar’s colleagues. I organised the classes – but sadly I couldn’t attend myself. Does John find it helpful?”
“Oh yes – after a long day lecturing on his feet at the University I can have him right as rain in a few minutes. Sit here on the foot stool and I give you a short rub – it’ll do wonders I promise.” Marjorie got up from the chair and looked at the foot stool rather quizzically. It is five foot long and two foot wide and really a massage table in disguise. “John made the foot stool at the furniture workshop at the vicarage. You know men they make things way too big.”
“I know dear the Vicar has that very same penchant.” While she moved over and sat on the stool Ali went and poured another tall sherry. She handed it to Marjorie.
“Oh – I couldn’t dear not a second – I’m not good at handling sherry.” Ali remembered her a few Christmases ago drunk as a sailor at the vicarage singing at the top of her voice.
“Oh come on Marge – it’s just us and it will help your muscles relax. Make my job easier – please.”
“Well … just this last one.” Ali put the sherry decanter on the coffee table. And stood behind her and began rubbing her neck.
“Heavens you are tight Marge – you poor dear.” Ali is actually a very talented masseuse and was soon digging her thumbs into the big woman’s neck and shoulders. Marjorie began to loosen up a little and relaxed her shoulders. She let out a small sigh.
“That does feel good Allison – you certainly learned well.” Ali had brought some massage oil with her from the kitchen and had it in her jogging bottom pocket.
“I have some wonderful aromatherapy oil that would really help.”
“Please don’t go to any trouble dear.”
“No trouble at all I have it right here.” She showed Marjorie the beautiful body lotion bottle and let her smell the fresh jasmine scent.
“That does smell good – I love jasmine.” Ali reached around the front of her neck and began to unbutton her blouse. “What are you doing Alison?”
“I don’t want to get the oil on your pretty blouse.”
“Oh … I suppose not.” With that Ali unbutton a few buttons down on her blouse exposing her massive cleavage. She then pulled the blouse down on her upper arms. She was certainly a muscular woman with shoulders like a javelin thrower. Ali looked at the red skin under her bra straps.
“Marge your bra straps are digging into your shoulders – no wonder you are in such discomfort. Curse of the full size bosom.”
“Yes … yes dear – you don’t know what a burden it is for a woman my size.” Ali put her fingers under the bra straps and began to move them over to her upper arms. “Is that necessary?”
“I don’t want to spoil your lovely bra.” In fact Marjorie was wearing an industrial size bra from M&S – it could probably stop a bullet. “Put your arms down by your side Marge and try to relax.” As she did her blouse fell further down and Ali let her bra straps slide down her arms also to the elbow. Ali poured some oil in her hands and rubbed them together warming the oil before she began to rub it liberally into her waiting flesh. She started at the base of her neck and worked outwards towards her arms and then down her arms to the elbow. In slow deliberate strokes she repeated the rub several times. Marjorie was becoming putty in Ali’s expert hands. “Your back is also very tight Marge.” Ali rubbed her back down to where her bra was clasped. She did this repeatedly and marge was bending forward and slightly moaning. Ali then started again on her neck and arms and this time when she passed down her arms she deliberately brushed her hands over the side of Marjorie’s breasts. Marjorie had a sharp intake of breath – but she didn’t move. Ali went back to her neck and down her spine . When she had done this a few times she stopped and quickly undid the three hooks holding her bra together – releasing her breasts. Marjorie tightened her arms to her side to keep her bra from falling off. There was no danger of that not with those huge breasts folded over the underwire bra.
Ali pushed her forward and began working on her neck down her back. Repeatedly she worked her back until Marjorie loosed up and let her arms fall free. The back of her bra fell to the side and after a few more strokes Ali let her fingers caress the fleshy sides of Marjorie’s breasts. Slowly her bra was working its way loose from her breasts. On the next stroke Ali kneaded the sides of her breasts with her fingers and palms and her bra fell away into her lap. Ali reached under her arms and cupped her breasts fully massaging them slowly. Then she took her nipples between her fingers and gave them a slight squeeze and then milking them to erection. Her nipples were massive twice the size of a fifty pence piece and dark brown covered in small pips which Ali expertly rubbed. Marjorie was moaning at this point and had let her blouse fall away completely.
“Lay back on the stool Marge.” As she helped Marge lay backwards on her back her breasts fell to the sides of her body and Ali quickly gathered them up and began to slowly massage her breasts. They were very heavy and her skin was creamy white – no sunlight had ever touched these breasts. Ali wasn’t certain – but she felt that Marge had an orgasm – probably her first in a long while if not her first. “Roll over on your stomach Marge.” As she did Ali began to work the small of her back. With some more oil she worked from the neck downward on her spine to her waist. Ali undid the clasp on her tweed skirt waistband and pulled the zipper down. On the next downward stroke she passed under the elastic band of her slip and panties to reach the crux of her ass cleavage. This is a very sensitive part on Ali’s body and it turned out to be for Marjorie as well. She moaned and drew her knees up on the massage table. This allowed Ali to pull down her skirt, slip and panties to her ankles. Marge was lost in ecstasy with Ali using more oil and massaging the cheeks of her ass and working the crack of her buttocks. As she rubbed harder Marjorie spread her legs more and more until her legs were over the sides of the table – completely prostate. Ali rubbed her fingers down until she reached Marjorie’s asshole and then she rubbed circles around the opening. She made no protest and Ali could see the glistening of her pussy juice leaking on to the table. She still had her knees slightly drawn up and this gave Ali clear access to her pussy lips which she began to slowly massage. This woman had public hair which started almost at her belly button and continued around her crotch and covered her asshole. I was dark black and now matted with sweat. Ali had never seen such hair.
Ali reached deeper between her legs until she found her clit and began squeezing and rubbing it until Marjorie was moaning again – her second climax. Ali pulled her jogging bottoms down and stepped out of them and released her cock. She squeezed her balls to lubricate the head and shaft. She splayed Marjorie’s pussy lips apart and placed the head of her cock at the opening. Then she pushed the head inside her waiting and eager pussy. “Oh My God … Ali. What are you doing?” she didn’t need an answer – she knew what was happening as Ali gently pushed a few inches of her cock in her waiting hole.
“I’m fucking you Marge – do you want me to stop?” Marjorie put her feet on the ground and raised her bottom in the air. Ali had her answer and she pushed her cock in the full eight inches. Marjorie took a sharp intake of air.
“OH My God – yes … yes … fuck me Ali. Ali began slowly pulling in and out of Marjorie’s pussy. Then holding her by her hips Ali began to thrust in harder and harder making a slapping noise when she bottomed out against her ass cheeks. Pussy farts were escaping the sides of her pussy as she moaned in ecstasy. Her body began to shudder as she climaxed. This was the one Ali had been waiting for – she buried her cock deep in the Vicars wife’s pussy and squeezed her balls to ejaculate her cum into Marge’s pussy. Marjorie was screaming at this point and writhing in joy. Sweat was running off her body as Ali massaged her ass cheeks. Ali slowly pulled her cock out of Marge.
I think your shoulders are loose enough now Marge – don’t you think?” Marge was laying there unable to move
“Oh yes dear heart – plenty loose now. Thank you.”