Hot Hits Read online

  Title Page

  Hot Hits

  By

  Harry Blue

  Publisher Information

  Hot Hits published in 2012 by

  Andrews UK Limited

  www.andrewsuk.com

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Copyright © Harry Blue 2012

  The right of Harry Blue to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 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 other
s, 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 large instrument that Roger thought might be a euphonium but he wasn’t really sure and the man looked in danger of dropping off to sleep, let alone being competent enough to play anything that could entertain the public. Roger was pleased that he hadn’t paid admission, as he was standing in the free area. Pity those poor souls who were down below in the windy, paying seats.

  The band leader was a tall, gaunt looking man who was wearing a dark Oxford blue jacket, completely bald, and with black patent shoes that were so badly scuffed that they could be noticed from so far away. He waved his baton with verve, attempting to give the impression that he knew what he was about, but from the persistent discordant sounds it was patently obvious that he was in charge of the awful orchestra. A little later the concert was mercifully over, and the remaining souls quickly applauded and left their seats, giving the leader and his band no chance to give an encore, let alone more encouragement to strangle another tune.

  Roger’s eyes had returned frequently to the smart young lady he knew, as she was the only one worth looking at. She kept on looking at Roger as well, so he could see that she was interested. As his attention wandered away from the music, he found himself speculating what she looked like without that uniform on. Mind you, he could imagine her with JUST the uniform. That was sufficient to take his attention away from the terrible playing for quite some time. In his mind, he could see her standing in front of him, just within arms’ reach, a lovely little grin on her pretty little face, maybe licking her lips in anticipation of what might occur, as she stood there with nothing on, except for the uniform jacket. He could imagine it being buttoned, but not all the way, only perhaps the bottom two, so her bust was showing, with a hint of the nipples, which would be there, but not quite enough for him to see. The bottom of the jacket would come right to her crotch, so he would have to undo the buttons to find out exactly what was down there. He was certain however that whatever was there would be something they would both appreciate. He could then imagine her slowly, ever so slowly, turning round on her bare feet, showing her back to him, with the jacket covering her lovely pert behind. While all this imagination was going on, he realised that he had a huge erection, just thinking about the lovely young band member in the smart jacket. This was something to pursue, he was convinced.

  Roger hung around at the exit, and was rewarded by her smile as she came through.

  ‘Thought I recognised you standing there’ she said.

  ‘Hi Sue,’ said Roger, ‘wondered if all that playing had made you thirsty.’

  Sue placed her left arm through Roger’s, the other still holding her instrument in a black holdall bag. ‘Love to’, she said, leading him away from the bandstand, up the steps, and towards the entrance of the four star hotel opposite. Usually aware of his surroundings, Roger noticed the band leader staring intently at them as they walked across the road.

  ‘Your leader seemed interested in us’, commented Roger, as they sat at a window table overlooking the seafront. ‘Hope that I haven’t got you into trouble by dragging you away from him.’

  ‘That creep’ Sue replied. ‘I can’t stand him. I really don’t know what he’s doing in charge of us. He took over three months ago when our previous leader got ill with a serious tummy trouble, and he’s never come back. I have asked and asked about him, because he was no nice, but they’ve told me to belt up asking. They even had the cheek to tell me that I’m getting boring.’

  ‘Can’t imagine you being boring. You’re too good looking for that.’

  ‘Don’t be corny Roger.’

  ‘No, Sue, I mean it, there’s no-one worth looking at in your band apart from you’.

  ‘I don’t have much competition, now do I?’ she replied. ‘There’s twelve men, with only seven hairs between them, there’s eight women including me, and if I’m honest, which I usually am, if they didn’t all wear girdles then their stomachs would hide what they are playing. I don’t know how they get sufficient wind wearing their get-ups to make a note come out.’

  ‘Their playing is so bad that I wish they didn’t bother,’ he replied. ‘Changing the subject slightly, how far afield do you travel to play?

  ‘Until three months ago, twenty miles away was the furthest. But that changed when Mr. Thomas took over as leader. Since then, we’ve been to France twice, Germany once, and we have tours planned to Milan and the Gulf States.’

  ‘What,’ exclaimed Roger, ‘when hardly any of you can carry a tune, let alone play it?’

  ‘That’s very cruel.’

  ‘Sorry love, but, let’s be realistic,
if you went on “Britain’s Got Talent” you’d be booed off within ten seconds, and that’s being kind with the band getting the sympathy vote.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll give you that we could be better with some practice, but we’re certainly going places these days.’

  They carried on chatting about the band for the next half hour, and then progressed onto the college, studies, and what they were going to do when they had taken their upcoming final exams. The evening passed very quickly for both of them, with Roger noticing a lovely little trait that she didn’t even know that she had. When Sue concentrated on a particular subject, speaking about, say the band, she frowned as she spoke. He found this very attractive, sexy even, anticipating the frown when they had sex, because he knew that this was going to occur. A very confident young man.

  They were both surprised when the barman came over and asked if they wanted anything else to drink as the bar was closing shortly.

  ‘No, thanks very much’ he replied.

  Turning to Sue, he asked ‘how are you getting home?’

  ‘Cab.’

  Roger took out his mobile, and rang the local taxi company. Within five minutes the car was there, and he waved her goodbye. Roger was quite reflective as he walked along the seafront back to the guest house. He had really enjoyed the evening, and Sue had been excellent company.

  Chapter Three

  The next few weeks passed in a blur for Roger. He revised, studied, took his exams, and then did the same all over again. By the time that the beginning of July arrived, he was finished, all examed out, and with nothing to do until his results came through. He had done nothing in the guest house since his parents’ return from their post-Easter break, and every now and again thought about Sue, and her sexy frown, without doing anything about it. Time enough for girls when he was ready, and now the time had come to relax. He found himself at the bandstand more and more often, hoping that Sue’s awful orchestra would be there, but each time he came away disappointed. Then one Thursday evening, he heard the familiar strains of off music, and knew that she would be there. Roger stood on the top level, just as before, and was immediately rewarded with a big smile from Sue playing her cornet on the lower level. She immediately played a bum note, and Mr. Thomas the conductor shot Sue a filthy look.