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BETHS’ SUMMER BREAK Part 7 – Cider With Josie
While Gina is away, Josie, one of her oldest friends contacts Beth. Josie wants to play games and Beth is eager to participate. Over the course of an incident filled day she learns something to her advantage and finds out what is behind the locked door in Gina’s bedroom.
All characters portrayed are fictional and anyone engaging in sexual activity is at least eighteen years old and consenting.
Chapter One – The Games People Play
I was still coming down from my experience with Sienna. A few days on, I felt a warm glow when I thought back to all the things we had got up to. She and Rick were off to Greece for a holiday once he got back from his cricket tour and I hoped we’d meet again before I went back to college. I sat in the small garden on a sunny Saturday afternoon, drinking cider and wondering what to do with the rest of the day. I had considering running, but it was too hot so it looked like college work followed by feverish masturbation to lesbian porn to keep little Bethany entertained today.
The indefatigable Gina was up in London for another of her ‘assignments’ as she called them. That was tonight but she then had meetings planned with the co-owner of the agency they ran together, so she was staying over for a few days. She had promised me the low down on her adventures when she returned. Even though it had been a wild few weeks, I would have given anything, except for my trusty old bear Bruno, to get an invite to one of those parties. Even from the brief snippets she shared, I knew I’d be right in my element.
I didn’t know at the time but I wouldn’t have long to wait – that Gina had plans in that direction for me. Probably just as well really. As you may have seen, I don’t do waiting very well.
I sat, relishing the sunshine. It was a surprisingly small garden for a house of its size, but that is why Gina chose it – nothing to maintain. It was nice just sitting there for fifteen minutes, the sun on my face, listening to Mr. Blackbird up in his tree next to my bedroom window. I had woken up to his cheery song almost every morning since I got here and for the first few weeks I envied his happiness. Lately I was almost singing along with him.
Over his chirping, I heard the faint sound of a mobile phone going off. It took me a second to realise it was mine – up in my room. It wouldn’t be important. Allie wouldn’t ring me – we used Skype. Dad was in the Far East somewhere, Mum was off to Portugal with her new husband. Probably someone with Broken English as a second language telling me I was slowing down the internet with all my porn surfing.
By the time I got to my room it had rung off. I hoped to hear a message kick in, but nothing. I picked up the phone and saw a text along with the missed call message. Gina had sent me a text as well.
Only me. Expect a call soon, very important. TAKE IT! G x
I looked at the number – it was local, not a mobile. Of the few people I knew locally, Gina wouldn’t be texting to say one of them was going to call.
Only one thing for it – I hit redial and waited with interest. It took a while but it eventually picked up. There was a breathless voice on the other end. “Sorry, just a minute – Shadow, fuck off!” It was female and fruity and I was suddenly very intrigued. There was a short delay. “Sorry about that, bloody cats – bane of my life. I’m hoping by the number that’s just popped up, this is Bethany Hamilton calling me back?”
I was completely thrown. She had a lovely drawl, and if I thought Jen’s voice sounded like honey, this was like having warm chocolate dribbled on my body. And yes, I do speak from experience.
“Hi, yes it is… Bethany, I mean… Beth. Who-“
She cut me off and went on at breakneck speed. “Hi Bethany, lovely of you to call back sweetie. Sorry, I was just in the garden and the fucking cats react like I’ve been to bloody Thailand for a month when I walk back in. Gina told me to give you a buzz, said you’d be at a loose end tomorrow. I am too, so wondered if you’d fancy meeting me for a spot of lunch.”
What the hell? What was Gina setting me up with here?
“Sorry I don’t mean to be rude, but who am I talking to? Gina sent a text and said to expect a call, but not from whom. I only picked up the message when I went to call you back. And just to be clear, I don’t want to buy any insurance and my laptop is not slowing down the entire World Wide Web.”
She laughed, a dainty little trill. “Very good, dear. She said you liked a little joke. Oh that fucking woman – loves her bloody mystery and intrigue, doesn’t she? You’re probably wondering what the hell is going on, then? Bethany, you have the pleasure of conversing with Josie, an old friend of Gina’s. She told me to call you as apparently we will get along very well – her exact words – and she is most anxious for us to meet.”
Josie? Oh shit, it hit me! Josie Double-Barrelled. Josie Something-Jones. Gina mentioned her the other day when she was talking about likely candidates with casino şirketleri whom Jen could continue her new-found Sapphic leanings.
Bangs like a shit-house door in a gale.
That brought it back to me. Some things do help to jog the memory. “Oh, Josie Napier-Jones! Yes she said she knew you and there may be… certain things we have in common.”
She breezed on enthusiastically. “You remembered my name! Full marks darling, gold star! Things in common? Hoping so, darling, hoping so! Oh, Shadow stop doing that, you’ll getting fucking sun-tan lotion all over your fur. Sorry, he’s a darling but mad as a hatter. I’m sitting here starkers, covered in Ambre Solaire and the silly bugger jumps on my lap. I’ll have to shower myself and the bloody cat before I head out tonight! Two pussies to clean, so to speak! So are you on for lunch? Nice little… blind date?”
Don’t sound too keen, Beth. Pretend that you are not hanging out for it merely at the sound of this woman’s voice. “Er, yes sounds like a fine idea. Any particular time? Anywhere in mind?”
“Right, lovely! Shall we say one thirty? Maybe meet for a drink first? D’you know the Cricketers Arms?”
I hadn’t a clue. It could have been on the Moon for all I knew. “Yes, know it well, lovely spot!” I hoped it wasn’t a broken down old dive or fifteen miles out into the countryside.
“Good girl – meet you in the garden. Only place a girl can smoke these days. One thirty then. Should give me time to have a nice lie in, top up this tan, get myself cleaned up and make myself presentable for you! I’ll book us a table for two thirty, give us a chance for a good old chat before we scoff!”
“Ok, look forward to it. How will I recognise you?”
“Oh, it won’t be difficult, sweetie.”
I was about to say something when I realised I was listening to a dead line. She had gone.
I’d had enough surprises over the last few weeks not to be too overwhelmed by what had just happened, but I was buzzing as I went back downstairs. Just who was this mysterious Josie, who was apparently sun-bathing nude and was quite happy to tell me she was about to wash her pussy? I wanted to hear that voice moaning as she came, telling me to do bad things to her. I hoped she wasn’t a Scary Mary.
She didn’t sound like one. Surely Gina wouldn’t do that to me? I quickly texted her.
Lunch with JN-J tomorrow! Sounds like she’s expecting more than lunch -will I survive? What’s she like? I’m either going to love you for it or rip your t!ts off! B x
First things first – where the hell was the Cricketers Arms? My watering hole of choice was the White Lion. Amberdown was a reasonable size, and I didn’t exactly know it like the back of my hand, but I’d never even heard of the place. I went back into the garden and tried to imagine a svelte, nubile blonde lying naked on a towel, dreamily gazing up at me. Mmm, you were great Bethany. Light me a cigarette, there’s a good girl.
Instead I did a search on my tablet and found out that the Cricketers was a little way south of the town centre on the River Amber. The blurb said ‘Riverside Garden’ and the magic words, ‘Real ale and ciders’. Just my kind of place to meet and I wondered why I hadn’t found it earlier.
By the time I had located it, Gina had come back.
“Told U I’d sort it! U’ll be fine she only eats men alive. My b00bs are safe – you’ll love her. Try Facebook – she’s on there – JNJ77. Have fun! G x
I responded and got down to finding out what I was letting myself in for.
Her Facebook page showed she had a very full social life and ran a business making posh and very ornate cakes. I’d seen the shop in town and the designs in the window were amazing. There was no personal status, but she was born in 1977, as her suffix suggested, making her either forty or just shy of it. Her profile picture showed a woman on horseback in full hunt regalia staring arrogantly at the camera, tapping a riding crop on her shiny leather boot. There were wisps of flaming red hair escaping from under her helmet. She had a full, red mouth, an upturned nose and green eyes that came straight out of the screen and bored into mine.
I wondered for a moment – a natural redhead would hardly be a sun-worshipper. All the redheads I knew hated the sun with their naturally pale skin. Maybe some dye going on? Her pubes would give her away. Assuming she had some – and of course, assuming little Bethany got to see them.
I flicked onto her other photos. I spent a lot of time going through them. She obviously wasn’t a shy woman. My favourite was a shot of her in a black evening dress and it looked like a pro-job. She was wearing shiny red opera gloves and held a long cigarette holder to her red lips, her striking red hair in a sleek bob to just above her shoulders. She looked sensational, like a Hollywood star from the forties. A familiar sensation began to creep in somewhere dark and damp down below.
How would I recognise Josie Napier-Jones in a pub garden?
Chapter Two – No Alarms and No casino firmaları Surprises
A few weeks ago, I’d have picked up the first things that came to hand in my limited little wardrobe and slung them on without a care. But having seen ‘The Girl in The Mirror’ when Gina and I were preparing for our adventure with Mike, both in Jen’s shop and at the hotel, I was now more aware of myself. I still hadn’t found the girl in the mirror, but with Gina’s help – maybe Sam’s, maybe Josie today – who knew? I was starting to wonder if my friends at Uni would recognise me when we all re-convened again in a few weeks. More to the point, would I recognise myself?
When Sam told me he wanted to find the real me, I nearly cried for him. If I can’t find myself, what chance does anyone else have?
In the end I chose my ‘Lara Croft’ outfit, tailored safari shorts and a pale blue t-shirt. I fancied an enigmatic look so raided Gina’s bedroom and found a pair of sunglasses that weren’t prescription. There was a wide-brimmed straw hat in one of her wardrobes so I tried it on. Just as I admired myself in the mirror, the front door bell rang. Thinking it was unusual for a Sunday morning, I scooted downstairs expecting a Jehovah’s Witness or Boy Scout collection, but there was a courier waiting on the doorstep.
He was holding out a small black plastic-wrapped package. Great, I thought -some more expensive face-slap for Gina, as if she needed it.
I got the usual bored response. Neither Lara Croft nor sunshine could brighten up this miserable bugger’s morning. “B Hamilton?” He barely even looked at me.
Me? Again? The second time this week? “Yes, that’s me. I am B.” I took the oddly shaped black package and signed for it on his little electronic pad. If anyone had tried to pin me down as signing for it, my squiggle would never have given me away. It was meant to say ‘BAAH’, as I always sign for things with my full initials, but it looked more like a bad drawing of a scrawny cat.
I was intrigued by the parcel. Firstly, it was for me. Secondly, there was a round lumpy thing in it and obviously some sort of card.
I was excited but forced myself to calm down. I poured some juice and took my parcel out into the garden and began to tear at the vinyl covering.
Inside there was a red draw-string bag which held something round, and despite its relatively small size, it felt quite heavy. The words, ‘DO NOT OPEN YET!’ were scrawled on it in marker pen. There was a folded A4 sized note and two sealed envelopes, one red and one green. This was looking like fun!
I held the bag in my hand and wondered what was inside. I smiled as I unfolded the note and read the typed words. There was no preamble. Josie Napier-Jones was as straight to the point as she had been on the phone. She had used a florid handwriting-style font.
A little bird tells me that the lovely Bethany likes to play games. Josie loves to play games. Don’t open the bag unless you want to play.
If you want to play my game, there is a telephone number on the back of the red envelope. If you are feeling adventurous, text the words “Bethany likes to play games”. If not, text the same number and say, ‘No thanks, kinky bitch, lunch will be fine.”
Think carefully, Bethany. Or may I call you Beth? I know how I’d choose. I won’t judge, but I’ll be very disappointed if it is the latter response.
Are you brave enough? I make Gina Harcourt look like a three week old kitten.
Love, Josephine Philomena Napier-Jones BA (Hons) Oxon x
Philomena? And she admits to it? I was trembling again. Could this summer get any better?
I carefully punched the number she had provided into my mobile. I didn’t want to get it wrong and have some poor innocent end up getting the response I was planning. My small, usually nimble fingers felt like big, fat rubbery sausages as I typed. I had to correct myself a dozen times. If the backspace key was Tippex, I’d be using a jumbo sized bottle.
Bethany doesn’t like games. She fucking loves them. Moreover, she fucking loves kinky bitches. If you think you can live with me, give me the word. Oh, and I am Bethany until you’ve earned the right to call me Beth. X
My heart was thumping as I hit send. I ran up and got my Mores from my bag and went back into the garden. I lit a cigarette and sat for minutes on end drumming my fingers on the garden table, puffing nervously, sipping juice, waiting for her response. I could hear birds singing, the hum of an occasional car passing on Sycamore Avenue, a lawnmower doing its work somewhere in the distance. A helicopter flew overhead and for a mad moment I envisioned Josie Napier-Jones skydiving out of it naked to land on the back lawn in front of me, begging me to make mad, passionate love to her on the grass.
After what seemed like an eternity, my message notification dinged its little ding. I pressed the recall button with my heart in my mouth.
Good girl, Bethany. That’s the choice I’d have made. I’ll be calling you Beth by the end of the day, I assure güvenilir casino you. And a lot of other things. Open the red envelope and follow the instructions. You have agreed to my terms and conditions. It is my game now. Tell me you understand.
I typed again with a shaking hand. I understand. It is your game. Instruct me. I am yours to do with as you please.
Yeah, right… until I decide otherwise!
I picked up the bag and the envelopes, tearing open the red one and read the words on the card inside.
I want you to be wearing a dress and no panties. Gina says you have some nice dresses. Make sure I get easy access to your adorable little snatch. There is something inside the bag. Some people call them Venus or Ben Wa Balls. I assume you know what to do with them. Text me when they are in place. If you are in a shop or walking the dog, I suggest you don’t do it until you get home.
Laughing at the vision she conjured, I opened the bag and pulled out a pair of linked balls, each an inch or so across. They were sheer red plastic and linked by a black cord. Another black cord was attached to one of them with a little tag on the end. I felt little weights rolling around inside them. I had heard of them but never used them. This was going to be exciting!
I decided if sitting in the garden naked was good enough for my new games teacher, it was good enough for me. There was no chance of anyone seeing me, so I quickly divested myself of my Lara stuff and sat in the sunshine without a stitch on. I carefully inserted the Venus balls into my pussy, ensuring that the black cord hung down against my thigh. I felt the weights roll inside and began to get a very warm glow. They felt gentle and I loved the feel of them as I squeezed gently with my vaginal muscles. I stood up hoping they wouldn’t fall out.
I thought I’d let Josie stew for a bit, so I spent a very pleasant half hour sitting there getting used to the feel of them and letting the sun play on me. There was something very soothing about having a lovely light breeze wafting between my slightly parted legs. I may have to give this nude bathing another try sometime, but without lotion I was going to burn, so reluctantly went back upstairs.
At Josie’s instructions, I chose one of the light summery dresses Gina had bought for me. I threw my panties onto my washing pile. They were already slightly damp. My bra joined them. I really hardly had any need for one, but I’d be going minimalist today. I checked in the mirror and was happy that nothing was showing below the hem-line to give away my little hidden secret.
I went back down, savouring the feel of my new toy as it gently massaged me with each step. I texted Josie, intending her to see I was very up for this game.
I was hoping for snooker balls, but they’ll do.
I jumped as my phone rang in my hand, the same number as the text. I was about to speak when I was met with another quick-fire tirade. “Don’t say a word. You are a naughty girl, aren’t you? I think we are going to get along well. Now go and have a cigarette, or whatever takes your fancy, and relax and enjoy my little gift for a while. I’m glad you decided to play. I promise you it will be fun. I guarantee you’ll be begging me to call you Beth by sun-down, darling. Text me when you reach the Cricketers. Don’t come in. I’ll call you back with further instructions. Don’t be late, sweetie. I hate unpunctuality.”
And she was gone once more. Just like my long-distance cyber-sex with Allie, this was turning me on and making me damp. Allie and I could do this for hours. I hoped Josie and I would be doing it for hours.
I added her name and number to my contacts. The next time she rang, the display would say ‘JN-J’. She was beginning to sound like someone I wanted permanently in my contact list.
As a matter of completeness, and because I am a nosy little cow, I opened the green envelope. There was another card, this one with a crudely drawn female face with its tongue sticking out, tears on her cheeks. Boo, hiss. Lunch it is then. Your loss.
If anyone I knew from University had seen Bethany Hamilton strolling into Amberdown wearing a dress, sunglasses and a straw hat, they’d have thought someone had spiked their drinks with an hallucinogenic. I didn’t care. I loved my new look, and I hoped Josie would love it too. The balls inside my vagina were turning nicely, their little internal weights doing their gentle magic, keeping me moist. They were big enough not to have to worry about losing them in an embarrassing moment, and I was having no trouble in keeping them in.
I walked down the busy High Street and as I passed the White Lion I glanced in through the window. My heart nearly stopped. There was Sam, propping up the bar, a pint of something dark in his hand. He was laughing with two or three other people. I stopped and looked more closely, hoping if he glanced my way the hat and glasses would be disguise enough. They were all blokes. My heart resumed beating and I kept on going. I was seeing him in a couple of days and I was relieved that there were no girls in the group he was with. I felt horribly hypocritical. Poor Sam – I’m off for a Sapphic afternoon of sex games with an as-yet unseen red-headed siren and I am worrying about whether or not he is with a girlfriend.
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