I have name changed for this post. This happened in the west country when I was a 19 year old, having travelled there for work as a young man.
My job was on a stud farm working for a rich family. There were about a dozen staff there, mostly male in their 30's and 40's and married with kids. This is relevant because I was the fall guy for weekend duties, bank holidays and Christmas Day when I had to be present on site, often alone. Water off a duck's back because I loved physically working on my own outside with all the responsibility.
Long hot summers bring people out in peculiar ways. For one thing, it makes them hornier. Alice (name changed here) was the owner's daughter and having finished her A Levels was off to university that September. The owner was a functioning alcoholic, expect on Saturdays when he was several sheets to the wind in the local market town. Alice's mum (let's call her Claire) was protective and had plans for Alice which involved her marrying off into money. Alice was told to stay away from the local boys.
Alice was stunning. Bright too because she would come to the farm office on Saturdays to do some owner billing and payments when papa was in the Red Lion and Claire was up at the spa in Bath with her friends. For three months Alice and I shagged in every conceivable position, in the office, in the hay barn, on the hill in the rain overlooking the farm and on her parents kitchen floor. We shagged at the bottom of the garden in the foliage when Claire was entertaining friends. We got secretly engaged and Alice got pregnant.
As Alice's summer was coming to a close so did our opportunities to meet. Sad, but inevitable as I knew this was the direction of travel and Alice was looking forwards to a different future. One afternoon I was finishing watering the stock and had a few hours spare before the evening shift when 3-4 others would turn up to help move the stock over. I was just finishing watering up when Claire drove into the yard. For some bizarre reason she had brought some tools back up to the yard (only her husband ever did this). Claire then proceeded to engage me in discussion wanting to know about my background, plans for the future etc. All a bit unexpected, then she started becoming a bit tactile. Well, things just started to happen and Claire had her lips locked onto mine while pressing herself hard against me. I think it was clear I would not have said no! We spent the next half an hour shagging on the tack room floor with Claire's legs locked round my back. That first one was a 'quicky', but we met several more times for longer sessions, well into the winter.
Here is the thing. Some 25 years later, I am in a professional career in a town over the other side of the country. Having reminisced about the stud farm to a local contact, but leaving the shagging out for obvious reasons, she said she knew the family well. In fact, Alice had moved to the US for a while and having had a marriage failure had returned to the UK and remarried. Alice was also in that very same town and had a successful local business. The contact was heading there next and thought it would be good if I tagged along. I did and although Alice did not recognise me at first, we did have a pleasant hour over a cup of tea talking about the stud farm and what we had done since. Papa had died, the farm was sold to developers and Claire had moved across country to the same town to be closer to Alice and her kids. Claire popped in on the way past, totally unannounced. Alice said "you must remember Valley don't you?" Claire said, "yes, I think so." Now that was the uncomfortable bit.
There is more to tell. Like the Christmas Day papa came into the stud farm with a loaded shotgun convinced someone local had been shagging his wife. Or the woman who lived in the lodge house next to the stud farm, who had the most insatiable appetite for delivery men.