The Amazon Barmaid ~ Episode 3
25-09-25 (05:50)
**Episode 3: The Ireland
Conservative Club**
We drove out to Ireland, a small
village a few miles from
Bristledown Manor. Frank signed
me in as a guest under the
snobbish glare of the doorman, and
then we headed for the bar. The
bar was a long room. At the far
end was a stage used for whatever
functions they had there. In the
middle was a large dance floor,
surrounded by tables and leather-
backed seating. About a dozen
people or so were currently seated,
drinking and chatting. The bar itself
was long and well-furnished.
The barmaid came over to us on
the other side of the bar. She was
a mature, stern-looking woman,
probably in her early fifties. She
had short white curly hair, a severe
face with a double chin. Her eyes
were grey and bright, and her nose
was thickish. I guessed her height
to be around 5'8" with a squat
powerful-looking build that
intrigued me. Her neck was thick
and tapered out to a very broad set
of shoulders covered by the loose
black jacket she wore. It could
have been padded, but I was
certain they were the real thing.
Her upper torso tapered
dramatically from her wide
shoulders to a medium-sized waist
and out again in a wide hourglass
figure. A low-cut white blouse
revealed that she was quite well-
endowed.
"Can I help you, gentlemen?" she
asked.
"Two pints of Whetherreds, please,"
I replied.
She fetched the glasses and pulled
our pints. I gave her the money,
and she walked to the back of the
bar to the cash register. This gave
me a chance to look at the back of
her legs. She wore a knee-length
black skirt and very high-heeled
black shoes. Sheathed in very fine-
meshed black fishnets were the
largest, most awesome-looking
calves I have ever seen. They must
have been at least 19" of sheer
muscle flaring out in dramatic
contrast to her slender ankles. I
was amazed at how such a straight-
laced woman could develop such
huge muscular calves. They seemed
bigger than my former landlady
when I was at university (JIMP#1). I
wished I could see if her thighs
were as well-developed as her
calves. I must admit that I find
something terribly erotic about
women with muscular calves,
sometimes causing my downfall
(JIMP#1 & #2). It really turns me on
to watch their calves bulge and
bunch up as they walk.
I heard Frank say something, but I
was too distracted. She turned and
approached us again with my
change, then went off to serve
another customer.
"I’m sorry, Frank, I didn’t quite catch
that," I said.
"What's this all about, Jim?" he
repeated.
"What do you know about Lady
Helen Windthorpe?" I asked.
"Not much. She came back from
India after her parents died about
10 years ago. Keeps herself pretty
much to herself, but there have
been rumors that she's into S&M
and some strange Asian religion."
"Any relationship with Cole?" I
asked.
"Not that I know of. He hardly
seems her type. She's very stuck
up with a superiority complex.
Doesn't like us lower classes much,"
he told me.
"I have a copy of a dossier she has
on Cole," I told him. "Copies of
newspaper articles, council minutes,
that sort of thing."
"He's up to all sorts, but he never
gets caught," Frank replied.
"Cole diverted the town by-pass by
several miles so it wouldn’t cross
land owned by John Davison," I said.
"The millionaire local arms dealer.
Yes, I know. Very secretive man.
Friends in high places and all that."
"He also got the council to agree a
million-pound renovation grant to
the owner of rundown riverside
houses. The landlord - John Davison.
He got the council to award a grant
to a boy who failed all his exams to
send him to Cambridge when there
were more deserving cases. The
boy was Davison's son. He also got
the council to agree a million-pound
grant to a poor farmer who
happened to be the same boy
when he got kicked out of
university." Don't forget to leave a Comment 
