Hot Hits: Blowing Her Trumpet

By Harry Blue

Roger enjoys sex with a mature lady staying at his parents’ guest house, then more sex with Sue, who plays in a local seaside silver band. They frolic in the sand, on the back seat of a minibus, and in a Belgian hotel. Meanwhile, Roger’s parents aren’t left out – they have mature sex standing up in a huge walk-in shower. Club Sadist is a venue for torture and murder, with Roger ending in chains on the stage, ready to be sacrificed. He’s the hero, so he should, surely, survive? Barbara the hitwoman is a ruthless killer, Cedric a pathetic loser, and meet Club Sadist’s master of ceremonies, Ace.

• Language: English
• Publisher: House of Erotica
• Release date: Jun 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781781660850

Book preview

1988.

Chapter One

Roger’s parents owned a seaside six bedroom guest house, and liked to go away when they could to their French gite. They only took short summer breaks when he was available, and as a twenty two year old student, it was pretty easy for him to study anywhere.

Roger and his parents had a residential block at the rear of the house, so they had privacy from the guests when they wanted it. He had been ten years old when they had moved to the seaside, so had been helping out for many years and knew the routine so well that he was trusted to run the guest house on his own. He was a rarity among young men, because he could put his hands to cleaning, cooking, and generally running the place and overcoming any maintenance problems. They had been gone for a couple of days, and it was the cleaner’s Sunday off, so after Roger had cooked and served breakfast for everybody, cleared up, and had a brief look at the papers, it was time to service the rooms. Five rooms had checked out by now, and one, the small double, had a single lady staying but she was out most of the time.

As a six footer in good trim, visiting the gym every other day, running, and using weights, he was not a bad looking young man, so as he was on the last room, had worked up quite a sweat in his shorts and shirt.

Assuming she was out, Roger committed the worst hotelier sin and walked into Mrs. Walker’s room without knocking. There she was, without a stitch on, looking absolutely fabulous. His hard-on was immediate, and after she got over the shock of seeing him she looked down, licked her lips, and said

’Be a shame to waste that’.

Nothing more was said as she went on her knees, pulled his shorts aside, and took what she could of his prick in her mouth. He was, quite simply, huge. The last time that he had had sex was at least three months previously, and the time before that, well, he couldn’t remember. Yes, girls had come on to him, but he had concentrated on his studies, so by the time that Mrs. Walker had taken him in her mouth, he was a rampant young man at the height of sexual arousal ready for release. She couldn’t take the whole shaft, and had to use both hands to rub up and down as she gasped for air while her lips and tongue did their best to contain him. Roger just could not last, and before long was moaning loudly and pulled himself out of her mouth. Immediately, her lovely breasts were covered in his climax, and when he had finished coming she said nothing, put her hands on his chest so he would stay where he was, and went into the bathroom so she could use more than one of the man-sized tissues.

‘My turn now, big boy’, she said, as she took his hand and led him to the bed. She lay on her back and spread her legs wide. She was nice and soft, as she had recently shaved her pussy, and with both hands she guided Roger’s more than willing face to give her some satisfaction. Very soon his tongue was licking and eating her love juices, and she almost drowned him, she was so wet. Roger used two fingers of his right hand to gently ease just inside her, and the response was immediate. She was moaning and grabbing his hair at the same time, and it was obvious that he had found her G spot. She was pulling his head and tongue harder into her, and it was a good job that he was young and fit as he had to take breaths when he could. Then with a great shriek her whole body stiffened, her come flooded into Roger’s mouth that he gratefully drank, and she pulled his hair so hard he was convinced that she was going to pull her hand away with a huge clump of his hair.

But no, Roger’s hair was intact, and there she was, lying there, stark naked and sweaty, with a great grin of satisfaction on her mature face.

‘Your turn again’.

This time she placed him on his back, and proceeded to revive his prick, which had been doing a pretty good job on its own when he had been enjoying her climax. Up and down she went again with her willing mouth, her teeth teasing the shaft as her hand massaged his balls. Roger knew that he was some way off coming again, so gently stopped her, and manoeuvred her round so he was still lying on his back, and she was now astride him. No instructions necessary, she gently lowered herself onto him, and as she did so a lovely grin of satisfaction appeared on her attractive mature face. She rode Roger faster and faster, and he deliberately held back as he wanted her to come first, but he knew it was helpless, he just could not stop himself. But Mrs. Walker was a mature lover, more experienced than her young stud, and saw what was occurring, so timed her climax perfectly to his. In a shuddering, juddering, climax, they both came. Spent and exhausted, she lay on his chest, and he was breathing so fast she was almost bouncing off it. When they were both breathing normally again, she ran her hands through Roger’s hairy chest, and said

‘I was just about to enjoy a shower before I was interrupted. Fancy joining me?’

His grin was immediate, and they went into the large shower hand in hand and washed and soaped each other down so thoroughly there was no way they could possibly clean each other any longer.

’Now, my handsome young man, it’s time for you to let me get presentable again. Off you go.’ She patted his bare bum, and he grabbed his clothing and went back to his own room to dress properly.

When she checked out later, she said with a grin ‘same again when your parents are away next?’

Chapter Two

Business was always slack the week after Easter, which this year had occurred in the middle of April. Roger’s parents had gone away the day after Easter Monday, and were not due back until a week later, so he was solely in charge only for another couple of days, because Mrs. Walker had stayed the weekend after Easter. That gave him more time for studying for his final exams, which he could easily include with running the business. His favourite place was sitting at the desk in the lounge window, overlooking the seafront, watching the world go by, computer on, books strewn about, casually dressed in shorts and t-shirt, sandals without socks, unshaven, and head down in concentration.

‘I’m finished now Roger. Okay if I go home?’ asked Janice, the cleaner.

‘Yes, fine, off you go, thanks very much. Anything I should know?’

‘Just that everyone’s out, all the rooms have been serviced, and the laundry man isn’t coming until tomorrow.’

‘Okay, thanks, have a good day off tomorrow, and see you soon.’

Roger returned to his studies, and it was five o’clock when he realised that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was starving hungry. He hadn’t been to the gym for two days as well, so closed his books, went to the flat at the back, collected a towel and water bottle, changed into comfortable gym clothes and shoes, and went for a two mile run along the seafront. Roger was supremely fit, and thought nothing about running on the sand, which might drain the energy of other people, but energised him so he felt really good by the time that he arrived shortly after at the gym. Some people like to look good at the gym, but do nothing, just stand around and chat to others, but Roger wanted to gain the maximum benefit from his membership, and just nodded to two or three people he knew, and concentrated on his exercises. After twenty minutes on the running machine at a high resistance rate he was sweating, and then it was onto the weights. He had recently progressed to the 50 kilo bar, so he stood on the mat, legs slightly apart, with the heavy weight balanced in his hands. Five minutes of torture later he was ready for some water to accompany a quick breather, completely unaware of some of the askance looks he was getting from some of the younger, and older, ladies who were toiling on their machines. By the time he had finished with the machines an hour later he felt exhausted, but satisfied. He had a shower, and then ran back to the guest house via the fish and chip shop. They knew him well, and only lightly battered his fresh piece of cod. He had a small portion of chips, and when he got back relished the weekly treat. He wolfed it down, and it wasn’t long before he had placed his dirty crockery and cutlery in the dishwasher. It was still mid-evening, and he had some hours to go before he was ready for bed. It was a lovely evening, so he decided on a walk along the seafront to the bandstand. He had no idea who was performing, but it was a good excuse for a walk before turning in. The bandstand was a strange anachronism, somewhere for all ages to gather. His seaside resort was a rarity, as it appealed to the younger generation as well as the older, who arrived in coaches in vast numbers. The bandstand had a summer programme with something occurring every night of the week, from activities for youngsters, pop for the teenagers, and variety for all ages.

The bandstand was on two levels, both being open to the public when nothing was occurring, but roped off to stop people from listening without paying when in use. However, there was an observation area to one side on the top level where you could stand for free, not very comfortable, but with a view nonetheless. This was Roger’s destination.

As he walked closer to the bandstand he could hear the music getting louder, and his heart dropped, because it was only a silver band. These players were not particularly good, and could at best be described as gifted amateurs, and that would be by someone who was tone deaf. Rogers’ parents would say that the members of the silver band would take it in turns to play the bum notes, they were so bad, and they were into a medley of Rogers and Hammerstein’s best known numbers by the time that Roger was standing on the upper level, looking down at them attempting to play. Ten minutes later they looked exhausted at their efforts, and the meagre audience looked just as washed out at the effort of listening to such poor playing. Inevitably, his attention had wandered, and he had seen that the crowd, such as it was, were trickling away a few at a time back to their hotels. It was not a particularly warm evening, and it was obvious that most of the audience were visitors of the older variety, too polite to boo, content to go away quietly. Roger was a very well brought up young man, and even though he knew that they had not been good, he applauded for the sake of good manners.

There were about twenty members in the band, mostly older, but Roger had recognised one of the cornet players from his college. She was quite a good looking young lady, sitting there in her powder blue uniform, instrument polished, shoulder length hair trimmed neatly, and she certainly stood out from her colleagues, who mainly wore ill-fitting uniforms that were stained, frayed, and just looked old. One man in particular was obese, he was attempting to play a