Write stuff

Hurrah, I'm writing again. After months getting bogged down with my World War Two novel I've decided to put it to one side and go back to where I'm most comfortable - the Victorian country house.

I've decided to get some of the characters from 'A Week in the Country' out of retirement and let them play again. And it's fun. Here's a paragraph or two of the three or four pages I wrote today on a train (it feels really wicked writing spanko fiction on public transport...)

“I'm so sorry, mam. So very sorry. It won't happen again…”

“Good. Glad to hear it," Flick said."That'll be all…”

“You must be so disappointed…”

“A little, Edna. But these things happen,” Flick replied, distractedly. “You can run along now…”

She turned away from the maid and went to the window. Cook seemed to be preparing some sort of fish dish and the cooking smell had begun to reach the Day Room.

As Flick opened the window she noticed Charles crossing the drive some distance of the house. The dogs were at his heels and he had his gun under his arm.

Turning, she was confronted by Edna's big bottom. While Flick had been at the window the housemaid had turned around, bent over and pulled skirt and petticoats up over her head.

Her drawers could barely contain the generous curves of Edna's bum and her quim and bumhole pushed out shamelessly. It really was getting a bit tiresome, Flick thought to herself.

“I know it's what I deserve, mam…” Edna's voice was muffled, but quite firm. The maid knew what she wanted and, when the mood was on her, was dogged in her pursuit of it.

“The cane's on the table, mam,” she said. "Can you see it... are you there..." Oh dear God, thought Flick, how bored I am of all this Lady of the Manor business. 

PS To mark the moment I've decided to offer downloads of 'A Week in the Country' for the next month at a special price. Follow this link to its Amazon page.