English Roses Ch. 01

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I was born and bred in small town Australia. Not quite the outback, but not far from it. The town had a High School, so was a reasonable size, but was fairly isolated. As with many such rural towns it was conservative, with much emphasis on hard work, clean living and sport. I was fine with the sport, but struggled with the first two. I’d wanted to get out of there from my early teens and when I got a girl pregnant at 18, my father began agreeing with me.

Dad asked his brother, who worked in construction on the Gold Coast, to find me a labouring job and away I went. I only went home at Christmas and never got to see my daughter. Evidently the mother had married and her family viewed me as a pariah. Why it had to be this way I wasn’t sure, but it was the first example of women making my life more complicated than it need be.

I’d lived on the Gold Coast for nine years. My love of sport remained undiminished. Cricket and surfing in the summer, rugby in the winter. It was a great life and I wasn’t much interested in a career of any sort. Casual labouring, pool cleaning or bar work, which always had to fit around sport and my social life. However, at 27 years old, I began to feel I’d drifted into a bit of a rut. The latest job, bouncing at a local night club, was not inspiring me and my three year relationship with Emma had become a little stale.

That’s not to say Emma had lost any of her looks. She was a good looking woman and would have no trouble attracting any red blooded man. At 24 years old she was tall and slim at 5 foot eight. In true Gold Coast fashion she had sun bleached blond hair that she always straightened, which came to the middle of her long neck. Her breasts weren’t large, just a small handful, but were in proportion to her lithe body, long legs and tight butt. In summary, she was an athletic, good looking, Queensland girl and my mates thought I was lucky to have caught her. However in the past year, we’d both stopped trying and the relationship had suffered.

About this time an Englishman, Jeremy, playing a season in my cricket team, asked if I wanted him to hook me up with a club back in England. Five years earlier I’d played a season for a club over in Yorkshire and loved the experience. The weather had been rubbish, but I’d played well and become a bit of a local celebrity.

I told Jeremy that I’d be a starter for anything he could organise.

Jeremy soon came back with a club in the south of England. It was a village club, but the next village was only two miles down the road and, with a city close by, it was hardy the Outback.

The deal was that the club would find me accommodation, a job and pay me a small remuneration. In return I was to be their one overseas professional that clubs were permitted to have in that League.

I spoke to Emma about it and she didn’t seem to mind.

“Well you love your sport Babe, and to tell the truth we’re having trouble finding time for each other right now, with my knew job and all. We might as well be in separate countries.” She was referring to her new job in Travel, which she’d been throwing herself into lately.

What she didn’t say, but which had been causing tension between us, was that I had continued to be my usual slack self and had no future prospects of any real consequence. However, that should have been the least of her concerns. What Emma didn’t know, was that I’d had a couple of flings recently. One of these had been with Julie, a good friend of Emma’s. Nothing serious, just knocking off work early and going back to her place, for a little afternoon delight. I’d wondered to myself if Emma had done similar with any men.

Unfortunately Julie began to use the word, “Us”, a bit too often for my liking. I didn’t like where it was headed and so stopped these liaisons. Then, of course I had to start fretting over whether she’d be a bitch about it and say something to Emma. Fortunately she hadn’t, but it became tense when we would all meet up.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened to one of my relationships. Women just seemed to bring problems for me. They always had done. I had no trouble finding them and generally they seemed to like me, but there was always drama of some kind. Now I had yet another problem going on with Emma and our relationship. I needed to get away. Somewhere I could just concentrate on my sport and women would not cause issues in my life. England seemed just the place.

The irony was that on the day prior to my departure, Emma did everything possible to reignite the flame of passion. In an effort to turn back the clock, she found time to get off work and we went to the beach together for lunch. We hung out swimming, people watching and talking. Then, in the evening, we went out for an upmarket, romantic dinner. She got dressed up in a tight, short skirt with a light silk top. Being tall her heels meant she came up to near my height and her long tanned legs looked outstanding. She’d had a bit to drink, so when we got sarıyer escort back to the car she got me to drive.

As soon as we were moving, Emma dropped her hand directly onto my crotch and began to stroke me through my trousers.

“That’s naughty,” I said. “It’s a while since you’ve done that in the car.”

Emma looked over at me out of the corner of her eyes giving me that cheeky, slightly tipsy look.

“It’s a while since I’ve done this as well,” she said.

With that she unzipped my fly and fetched out my rapidly hardening cock. At first she continued to lightly stroke it, while I did my best to concentrate on the road. This was the cheeky fun loving Emma I’d not seen in many months.

She slowly moved her head down toward my lap, stopped her stroking and grasped firmly onto the lower end of my shaft. She brought her lips close to the knob and began to lightly blow air on it. As I tensed she brought her tongue to the underside of the shaft and licked from her hand to the top, before swirling her tongue around the knob.

Emma hadn’t done anything like this in months and it was a huge turn on. She looked up and me and moistened her lips seductively. Then she dropped her head and enveloped the four inches of my shaft that showed above her hand. I almost came right there and then and had to fight to keep control.

Emma began to bob her head up and down, as I rested my free hand lightly on her head. I was aware this blow job was my invitation to proceed onto a sexual activity she knew was my dream fantasy.

I pulled the car into a deserted beach side car park. We’d done this before and Emma knew the drill all too well. As the car came to a stop she stopped sucking and came up for air. She immediately pulled up her skirt, raised her hips and dragged her thong down those long legs. She handed it to me as we both got out of the car.

These car parks weren’t the safest at night and there was always an element of danger. Emma had told me previously that it made her very nervous, but she knew it was a huge turn on for me. She came to my side of the car and gave me a warm passionate kiss, before turning and placing both her hands on the bonnet, slightly bent at the waist. I quickly moved in behind her, my cock waving free in the warm night air.

I moved my hands under her loose top and onto her breasts, massaging them through her bra. She purred her approval at this, moved her butt back onto my cock and began to slowly rotate it. I was finding it hard to contain myself, so I grabbed the hem of her skirt and lifted it, exposing her arse. I quickly moved my hand to her slit and ran my fingers up and down, finding her pleasingly wet. I knew she’d have lubricated herself. She’d be turned on, but given her apprehension about the location, she’d want the action without any formalities.

Aware of this I didn’t hesitate in grabbing my cock and bringing it directly to her vulva. Emma shuffled back toward me on her high heels, spread her legs apart and arched her back further, making herself more vulnerable. I rubbed the head around and soon located her hole. I slipped the knob in, placed a hand on each of her hips and immediately thrust my shaft half way inside of her.

We both let out a long breath of satisfaction at this initial entry. I withdrew and thrust forward two more times, until I had completely filled her. The public space and the danger were all part of the turn on and I rested there as she adjusted to my girth. I gave her a few light taps on her arse, while still buried to the hilt inside of her. Emma began to move her hips back and forth indicating that I should get a move on, so I began to shaft her with quick deep thrusts. She pushed back to meet me, causing my hips and her rear to slap together.

Because of her oral efforts in the car and my heightened excitement about the location, it was never going to last long. I soon felt my juices rising, as I gripped her hips tighter and increased the pace of my thrusting. Finally, with a loud moan I rammed it home, one last time. I held my cock there as it began to pulse and I came deep inside of her.

I had barely finished before we heard voices from back on the road. Emma quickly moved forward, dislodging me. I knew she’d be concerned someone would come by and anxious that we move on. My cock sprang free, still hard. She turned, looked around, then grabbed it and took it in her mouth again. She bobbed her head again and sucked out the last bit of cum as she cleaned my shaft. I knew she’d be scared, hadn’t come and would have semen dribbling down the inside of her thighs. The whole act was a real giving thing on her part. I appreciated that and felt a wave of post-coital affection for Emma sweep over me.

We got back in the car, drove home, stripped naked and went straight to bed. There I repaid her in full for what she had given me that evening. I went down on her, tonguing, kissing and nibbling her inner thighs and silivri escort labia for a long time, before moving on to work on her swollen clitoris. In our own bed Emma was far more relaxed and I was able to bring her slowly to a nice climax. Then I entered her again and we fucked, slow and long, while hugging each other closely. The whole thing was very close and extremely intimate.

When we finished I rolled away and Emma came into my arms. She started weeping on my shoulder and asked if we would still be together when I returned.

“That’s if you don’t find someone else,” I said, only half in jest.

“There is nobody else,” she replied matter of factly.

I knew she was being honest and I felt a huge pang of guilt shoot through me. Especially in regard to her friend Julie. I felt really bad about that and held Emma tight, while trying to reassure her we’d be Ok.

The next morning, she woke me early and we fucked again, one last time, before she got up, showered and we shared a final embrace. Then she left for work.

“Bloody hell,” I thought, “I wouldn’t be going if we’d had this, a couple of times a week. Why’s she giving me this, just as I’m heading away?”

I was just a simple boy from the Bush and I was really quite perplexed by the whole thing. I decided you just couldn’t figure out women or what makes them tick. I hoped things would be less complex in England.

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I left the warm, balmy Gold Coast later that day and arrived to a damp, cold England. It had snowed three days prior to my arrival. However, we managed to get some practice in and my new team mates gave me a warm welcome.

My accommodation turned out to be boarding with an older member of the team, Mike Manning and his wife Felicity. The job entailed menial shelf stacking at a supermarket owned by a former player. The pay was reasonable and this, plus what the club were paying me, was plenty for me to get by. I had to work three nights a week, 9pm to 2am, but this was fine by me, as it allowed, sleep-in’s and free time during the day.

I’d arrived after a solid cricket season back in Australia and found the standard in this League, below the level I’d been used too. Fortunately in the first game, played in frigid, wintery conditions, I managed to make a few runs and take a couple of catches. So I’d made a good early impression.

The club had two teams and I was happy to find that they enjoyed socialising. They had club rooms with a bar at their picturesque little ground and a pub nearby, that we would adjourn to later. A little further away was the city, with the usual nightclubs. The younger boys in the club would take me down there on occasion.

Despite the cold, and some yearning for Emma and the surf, I soon settled in nicely and began to relax and enjoy myself. Mike and Felicity’s two bedroom house was warm and located about half a mile from the cricket ground. My upstairs bedroom was big enough and the double bed nice and soft. I would return home late from work or socialising, sleep in the next day, mooch around, eat, watch some TV and then head down to the park for practice in the late afternoon. Just the sort of life I had been used to back home.

Of my team mates, the first I got to know well was Mike. He commuted some distance to his white collar job and left work early, so he could get back in time for practice. Felicity was a nurse and she worked shifts. They had no kids. Mike was a nice, friendly chap, while Felicity was a little more quiet and distant toward me, when I first arrived. She presented as a cautious type. However, I’d met this sort of woman before. I knew that, despite her demeanour, she’d be sizing me up.

Felicity was an attractive woman who carried herself well. At around 30 years old she looked her age, with strawberry blond, shoulder length hair framing an attractive oval face. She had high cheek bones, and hazel eyes. At about five foot six, she was nicely proportioned, with breasts consider ably larger than Emma’s. She exercised regularly at the gym and her calves were toned, but her butt was possibly a little wide for my liking. However, the good bits certainly outweighed the negatives.

My second good mate in the team soon became Jack Harrison the Team Captain. He was a great bloke and we soon became firm friends. He and fiancée Wendy were clearly smitten with each other. She was tall, slim and very attractive, almost like a model. She had long wavy brown hair that came to her mid back and she often tied it back in a pony-tail. She wasn’t as big in the bust as Felicity, but her breast size was a nice fit for her slim body shape. She interested me, but on weighing it up I felt she was almost out of my league and besides that, Jack and Wendy were very tight. I thought I’d have no chance and soon put any such thoughts out of my mind.

There were a number of younger single boys in the team. They were good sorts and plenty of fun. şirinevler escort The unofficial leader and the one I initially talked with the most, was Finn. He was a travelling salesman and a tall, good looking lad with short cropped hair. His girlfriend Vanessa, or Ness, was a cute little thing in her early 20’s. Her hair was jet black, but that wasn’t its original colour. Ness was from, “up north”, and had a broad northern accent. She was the life and soul of the party, and while no stunner like Wendy, she was an appealing sight. She often showed up at the pub in her tight top, little black mini and high heels, all set for a night on the town.

It was with Finn, Ness and their mates in the team that I would go clubbing. Ness would tease me about who I might like to go home with. To be fair, I was a reasonably good looking boy, 5 foot 10, short dark hair, toned body, with a nice Aussie tan and the accent to match. I liked to give the local girls a bit of chat and could have gone home with any number of them, should I have wished too. However, those last few days with Emma were still fresh in my mind. I was missing her, was a little bit homesick and decided to just play it cool for a start.

If I was going to go with anyone it would have to be more meaningful than a one night stand.

The one player I didn’t take a great liking too was Francis Goodwin. I wasn’t on my own with this, as most of the other players appeared not to like him. He was a good player, the next best batsmen after me and Jack, but he liked to talk cricket non-stop. To use a local word, he was a bit of a prat.

For the first two weeks I didn’t realise that Francis had a partner of any kind. Then one night, after we had moved on from the clubrooms to the pub, I noticed this young girl hanging around our group, chatting to one of the younger boys. I thought she looked too young to be in a pub, the legal drinking age being 18 years old in England. I asked Finn, who she was. He told me she was with Francis and her name was Terri.

“Francis has got a girl has he? How old is she?” I asked.

“Yeah, she’s Terri and she’s 18,” said Finn.

“Just left school and off to University up north in the autumn. She’s nice; don’t know what she sees in a wanker like Fanny Francis.”

“Yeah right,” I agreed, as we both found humour in Finn’s description of our team mate.

To be honest, Terri didn’t grab me for a start. She was a slightly built girl about 5 feet 3 tall, with dark brown hair, parted like a boys. It was cut very short on one side, but covered her ear on the other. She wore baggy T- shirts, but even so you could tell her breasts weren’t large. The shirt came down over her jeans and you could not see her butt. She wore Dr Martin type boots, which completed the androgynous look. I did note her thin face was attractive enough, with nice eyes, high cheek bones and a large, pretty mouth. However, she did not appear to be wearing one bit of makeup, not even lipstick.

“Not my type,” was my initial thought.

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That first month in England progressed very well from my point of view. May turned to June, the weather began to warm and our team had won three out of four games, with one rained off. My batting form was good and the club were more than getting their money’s worth. I’d been Emailing Emma regularly, but I was now over the initial homesickness I’d felt.

Generally I’d been lying in late, drinking to excess and eating too much fast food. I started to do a bit of running to keep the weight down. Only about 5 miles at a time, but I included some faster work and began to trim down.

At home, in Mike and Felicity’s house, things had settled into a nice routine. Everyone went about their business and any initial discomfort at my presence soon dissipated. However, as they became more familiar with my presence, they began to drop their façade. What I quickly noted was that they were not particularly content with each other. Felicity was unhappy with the amount of time Mike spent at cricket and socialising. She had not come to watch us play and had come to the pub only once.

For his part Mike was stuck in a dead end job and intimated that Felicity was unsupportive and over controlling. There was tension between them, which I did my best to circumnavigate, while she began to interest me.

Felicity had started off very cool toward me. I think bringing a boarder in for the summer was another reason for her to be upset with Mike. However, I had not matched her antagonism, I helped around the house and I had a sense of humour. We were often both at home during the day, so saw each other regularly and she became increasingly friendly toward me. She was happy to engage in conversation and banter and at times could be a little flirtatious, in her quiet manner.

Some of the TV programs we would watch together after Mike had gone to bed had some genuine sex scenes. Programs such as “Game of Thrones” had proven a little embarrassing at first, but as my stay moved on we began to joke about what was occurring on the screen.

“Oops here we go again.”

“You think she’s enjoying that.”

“Well he looks like he is.”

I stopped short of asking Felicity, “Is that how you’d like to do it?”

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