My Cornish holiday with Thighbootman - Part 1

[rubbermackintosh]

My Cornish holiday with ‘Thighbootman’ – Part 1
I had far too much luggage to fly with Easy Jet so I had to take the ferry to Tenerife and cough up for a ticket with British Airways to Gatwick.

This was because, being wise to Thighbootman’s fetishes, I packed my long SBR mackintosh, Sou’wester and hip wader boots along with my old PVC yellow cape and its sou’wester, leggings and a pair of waterproof riding boots. I also packed a pair of soft black rubber long rubber gloves. All in all that lot was a fair weight. I also packed ten bottles of our Canarian wine and five two kilo bags of a coffee beans. It took me well over my baggage allowance but I knew that I could expect to need my waterproofs in February in Cornwall for outdoors as well as indoors!

My flight was on time and I had got my bags from reclaim and was passing through the green channel in customs when a uniformed official beckoned me to one side. He opened my case and saw what I had in it. “I think that you had better bring that into our inspection room” he said.

The customs inspector was a coloured guy, about 6ft 2ins tall and actually not bad looking. In the inspection room was a coloured woman official. She was about 5ft 8ins tall at a guess and I sized up her tits mentally as being around 44ins DD – a strapping lass. She started to pull on a pair of latex gloves and the inspector was grinning broadly. I didn’t fancy what this was leading to at all.

They told me to empty my bags which I did and the inspector ran his hand over the coat. “Do you like it?” I asked him and his colleague said that she thought so. “Shall I put it on for you?” He nodded at that so I put the coat on and pouted. “How about the boots and hat too” he said. I sat on the inspection bench and made a performance of removing my jeans before putting the boots on and smoothing them up to the tops. The woman said “No knickers” which is exactly what I wanted them both to see.

I could see that the inspector was starting to get aroused. There was quite a bulge in crotch. I rubbed my hand lightly across the bulge and his colleague came closer. “Why don’t you try my rubber gloves instead of those cheap latex ones” I suggested to her and tossed them to her. As she pulled the latex ones off and put my soft rubber gloves on up to her elbows I pulled the inspector’s zip down and pulled out his growing erection. Soon his cock matched the reputation of coloured guys, meaty and about 9ins long. His colleague was now behind him, one gloved hand reached round to grip his cock and the other was between his legs gripping his balls. I was stood in front of him.

The woman started to stroke that big cock as I knelt down before him and licked thee end every time that it became exposed from the gloves. His breathing got heavier and I knew what was about to happen. His eye opened and a drop of pre-cum appeared and smeared my glove and then the eruption followed. What an eruption it was. Jet after jet hit my face and coat. I hadn’t had that much for a long time. It dripped off my chin onto my coat and slowly ran down over my tits.

My gloves were tossed back to me and the woman said “Give us each a bottle of that wine and you can get out of here” I did so, threw my things back into the cases and walked out looking like a real tramp with the cum still on my coat but at least I had avoided an internal examination by that pair. I went straight to the ‘ladies’ to clean up.

I walked across the bridge to the Gatwick Sofitel where I had pre-booked a room, went up to my room and got under the shower to clean off my coat before getting a meal and retiring to bed to sleep off my “Welcome to the UK” experience. The next morning I took the Gatwick Express to Victoria station and the 10.30 ‘Cornish Riviera’ train from Paddington to Camborne.

Past readers will be aware that Thighbootman and I went to the same school in Scunthorpe and that it was he who took my virginity one wet afternoon in Normanby Park with both of us wearing yellow PVC cycle capes etc.. However, when we left school our ways parted. I went to Uni in Sheffield where I met Marco whom I eventually married and went to live at his parents’ vineyard in Gran Canaria.

We were not the only two pupils at our school, nor were the only two who were sexually active and several of us ‘played the field’. Thighbootman had a thing going with Judith, another girl in our year who was a regular cyclist to school and who wore the usual PVC cycling gear. He happened to live near to Judith and used to ride home with her on a fairly regular basis. He had a thing about riding behind Judith on wet days and trying to catch the spray from her back wheel on the front of his cape.

Their route home used a muddy short cut along which Judith often stopped to give him a wank beneath his cape and usually getting the proceeds on the front of her own cape or higher. He had the ability to fire cum about three feet and was quite a good shot with it. This one of the things about him that appealed to me as well as to Judith and a few other girls at school had had the benefit of his cum shots too.

Well, Judith left school at the same time as me but she didn’t qualify for uni. And, in any event, she wanted to join the army which she did that autumn.

Thighbootman (I’ll keep calling him that as he has never shown his real name on this site) went to work at the Appleby Frodingham works in Scunthorpe but couldn’t settle there. The following year he left and joined the army, partly in the hope of meeting up with Judith again which he did about six months later in Aldershot and they started dating regularly.

One night Judith brought him off under their regulation army issue gas capes in the guardroom and a corporal caught them and demanded the same treatment unless Judith wanted to be put on a charge. It left her little option and she gave him a blowjob for good measure. After that he pestered her for regular performances and she obliged to avoid trouble.

After a few weeks of this they went to the cinema on a wet night, both wearing their army capes and Judith managed to get pregnant in the back row. She told me later that there were a number of couples from the barracks that night and that they all wore the army waterproof capes and that the girls were fucking by sitting on blokes laps facing them and that quite a bit of swopping went on. She said that at the time it was great fun and that the noise of capes rubbing together was something to be heard. Shortly after this Judith found that she was pregnant which meant that she would have to leave the army and lose her accommodation. Judith and Thighbootman hastily married so that they would get allocated married accommodation so that she could stay in Aldershot. At four months Judith lost the baby by miscarriage. She never actually knew who the father was. It could have been one of five who she fucked with in the cinema that wet night.

The married quarters was a hot bed of sexual activity with regular swopping parties on Saturday nights. The usual thing. Leave your key at the front door and choose one to go home with while your partner went with someone else. One night Judith got the Sergeant Major, he had a cock like a ramrod and knew how to use it. He was the first one to get right down Judith’s throat until his balls hit her chin. She said that she took it without complaint so as not to cause any trouble for them both.

Thighbootman completed his three year tour of duty and left the army which made him and Judith homeless. They saw an advert for the tenancy of a small farm in Cornwall and applied for it as it was the only way that they were going to afford anywhere to live. The farm belonged to the Duchy of Cornwall so they became a tenant of HRH you know who. Judith had been brought up from the age of seven by her mother alone. There was also Judith’s kid sister, Pauline, four years Judith’s junior. They lived in a Council House.

When Judith was twenty-three her mother died and her kid sister moved to Cornwall as the Council wouldn’t allow her to live in the Scunthorpe house alone. So, when I arrived in Cornwall the two bedroom farmhouse was occupied by Thighbootman, Judith and Pauline. Guess where I would be sleeping for my holiday!

The morning of my journey from Gatwick to Cornwall dawned wet with leaden skies so I wore my black mack and hat but I figured that waders would be a bit over the top for travelling by train so they stayed in my bags.

The train from Paddington to Cornwall was very smart and seemed to be almost new. I sat by a window and watched the scenery race by. This part of England was all new to me and it was a shame that the continuous rain made everything look drab. After Exeter the train ran alongside the sea for a few miles. The sea was very rough and the train shuddered a few times when waves broke over the seawall and showered it. Soon we were at Plymouth and then crossed over a bridge high above a river and the announcer broadcast that we were entering Cornwall. Not long now I thought but the train was quite slow through Cornwall and it was over another hour before we stopped at Camborne and I alighted into pouring rain.

The platform was deserted, just one woman standing by the exit wearing a short, very short, black PVC mack and a pair of green thigh high waders. She greeted me with “Hi. I’m Pauline, I’ve been sent to collect you”

“Good job that you’ve got a good mack as I’ve come in our old Land Rover with no cab. We only have one car and Judith has gone into Penzance in it”. Pauline climbed into the driving seat, “Sling your bags in the back and climb up. The seats a bit wet and muddy but that will wash off”. We set off for the farm at Praze-am-Beeble. Pauline drove with one hand on the wheel and one on my thigh. As we got out of town her hand slipped under my mack and her fingers started to stroke my clit. “You can finger me if you want” she said. I reached for her and discovered that there was bare flesh above her green wader tops and no knickers. I slipped a finger in and she squirmed in the seat which allowed me to get two more fingers in. She started to push against my fingers and her breath quickened as she orgasmed and, as I removed my fingers she pissed herself over her boots. Well, it’s like needing to pee when the tap is running and I couldn’t help myself. I pissed myself on the inside of my rubber mack. I was starting to think that this was going to be a dirty holiday. I just didn’t realise how dirty!

We drove into the farmyard. “Hi. Welcome to Cornwall. I’ve just finished milking and will be in in a minute” called Dave. Now you know his name and I can’t carry on calling him Thighbootman through the rest of this narrative about my holiday. “Judith will be back soon and we’ll have some tea”.

That’s the first part of my holiday. The journey from Gran Canaria to Cornwall. I’ll start telling you about my time there in the next instalment.

[shinymacs]

Great start to the holiday !!

[hotwilly]

Happy reunion for two Scunthonians , looking forward to hearing how you got on.
Reading you previous exploits does make me think I went to the wrong Scunthorpe schools , we didn't have half as much fun as you

[rubbermac]

Wonderful start to your story......Many Thanks,its nice to read how Real Men treat You,not sissies like me...

[rubbermackintosh]

Part 2:

Coronavirus – Now I’m stuck with Thighbootman!

Great, Spain including the Canaries in lock down and I’m stuck on a wet and very muddy farm in Cornwall for God knows how long.

What’s more I’m sharing a 4ft wide bed with Pauline who sleeps in her waterproofs and waders so that she can sneak out at dawn to do the milking without disturbing people. At least, that’s what she says but I reckon that she’s 100% fetish and she has wandering hands in bed too.

On day one of my holiday Dave showed me round the farm on a quad bike. He advised me to wear my mack and boots as I was likely to get sprayed from the wheels. I wore my old pvc cycle cape, sou’wester and waders which I had brought with me to remind him of our previous use of them I also wore some shiny leggings. Little did I know how much I was going to need the protection that my clothing would give.

The farmhouse and its outbuildings lie in a valley and everything drains off the surrounding fields into the farmyard. No sooner had I stepped out into the yard when I slipped and landed on my back in a mixture of water, mud and dilute slurry draining out of the cowshed. It was so slippery that I couldn’t get up without a hand from Dave.

We mounted the quad bike and rode out of the yard. From the moment that we entered the first field the wheels started to slip and spray mud upwards. Dave gunned the motor and the wheels span more then it was downhill for a bit and through a stream. It didn’t look much but it was almost three feet deep. The water washed off some of the mud but guess where it went. Over my boot tops!

Next it was along a ditch filled with water. The banks either side caused the bike to slip from side to side. I hung on to Dave round his waist to stop being thrown off. We hit a bump and my hands slipped down a bit. Honest, I didn’t mean to feel him down there but it sort of happened naturally. My hands were on his cock and I could feel it growing inside of his chest waders which he was wearing beneath an oilskin hooded top.

I know what to do with an erect cock and I had done it with Dave’s many times when we were at school together so, of course, I started to rub it through his rubber chest high waders. It wasn’t long before I felt him blow his load – what a waste as I couldn’t get at it while I was sat behind him on the bike.

Eventually we returned to the farmyard and Dave drove straight into the cowshed. As I climbed off the bike he kicked my feet away from under me and I fell back on a heap of cow shit. He stood above me and unbuckled the straps that held his chest waders up. His cock sprang out, erect and long. He ripped my leggings down and fell on me and gave me the biggest seeing to that I have had in three years. I can’t say that I was raped because I had been hoping that he would do that and I enjoyed it.

Out in the yards we hosed each other down before going inside.

“Tomorrow we’ll go down to the chandlers in Newlyn and get you some real waterproofs and then go out for some fishing” Dave told me. “Judith and Pauline can manage the farm as it’s too wet to do much apart from looking after the animals”.

[hotwilly]

Lucky lady being " stuck" in Cornwall, at least you have come prepared for the weather with your clothing.
Enjoy yourself.

[rubbermackintosh]

Bugger! I'm now stuck on a muddy farm in Cornwall until the Coronavirus crisis is over. At least Dave took me to the chandlers in Newlyn the other day and I bought a set of Guy Cotten yellow chest waders, bib trousers smock and sou'wester. So now I've got those, the sun has come out!

[hotwilly]

Bugger! I'm now stuck on a muddy farm in Cornwall until the Coronavirus crisis is over. At least Dave took me to the chandlers in Newlyn the other day and I bought a set of Guy Cotten yellow chest waders, bib trousers smock and sou'wester. So now I've got those, the sun has come out!

That's life.
Strip off , put them on and enjoy the feel as they warm up

[rubbermackintosh]

If I was allowed to move around I might come to Scunthorpe and warm you up.

[hotwilly]

If I was allowed to move around I might come to Scunthorpe and warm you up.

And I would thoroughly enjoy that.
Bright sunshine and 16c here - think how that would warm up your rainwear, soft and supple