Bridging the Gap

A North Meets South Lesbian love affair where boundaries are crossed and getting filthy is seen as foreplay...
‘Bridging the Gap’
By Annie Golightly
Chapter 1:
‘Bloody Sat Navs!’ Nancy Holloway thumped furiously on the dashboard and stared at the small computer.
As if it wasn’t bad enough that she had been forced to drive to middle-of-nowhere Yorkshire, the stupid company car she’d been given didn’t even have the decency to have a working navigation system. It had lost the signal somewhere near Leeds, only working for short bursts that told her very little – for all she knew she’d reached Scotland already, overshooting he final destination by a good number of miles.
And to top it all off she was now lost. In a field. A VERY muddy field.
Nancy clenched her teeth and tried not to scream. She was a capable executive in the cut throat world of advertising – getting where she was in what was essentially a man’s world had taken a large amount of balls and a tenacity that seemed boundless. And she was damned if she’d let a little thing called nature beat her.
She gunned the engine one more time, feeling the wheels spinning uselessly in the mire beneath her.
“Great,” Nancy muttered and climbed out of the mini-cooper, resigning herself to calling for the AA. She pushed her over-sized Gucci sunglasses up onto the top of her bright red hair and squinted at the screen of her I-phone. No Signal.
“Even better. Perhaps moving somewhere where there aren’t as many trees will fix this.”
So she set off, shielding her eyes against the bright September sunshine and trying not to sink too deeply into the grass. With hindsight, Nancy probably wasn’t dressed appropriately for a jaunt to the countryside but her spec had been simple: Drive to Darlington to meet with a regional car manufacturer who was looking to branch out in the south of England and were considering hiring ‘Alliance Advertising’ to do their Ad campaign. As the company’s hottest young executive, Nancy had literally jumped at the chance to prove herself and had welcomed the opportunity with open arms. Of course, the spec didn’t mention getting lost three times just trying to get out of London, and then tramping through the countryside in her best high heels because of the incompetence of modern technology.
A London city girl born and bed, Nancy prided herself on her appearance sand did not own one pair of ‘comfy’ knickers or ‘lazy day’ pyjamas. She lived in labels from Gucci to Prada, Manolo to Jasper Conran, and it showed. Today for example, she had left her London penthouse looking immaculate in a crisp white blouse, black waistcoat and black skirt (long enough to be proper, short enough to entice the client to choose them regardless of the quality of her pitch.) Long pale legs were covered in sheer stockings and ended in a pair of six-inch spike heeled black Manolo Blahnicks. A naturally tall girl at six foot nothing, these shoes ensured she towered over her male colleagues and made them ever more aware of their inadequacy. Small but perky breasts and an elfin style face surrounded by waist length flame red hair completed the look of serious-business-woman-do-not-mess-with-me-bitch. Nancy was hot, and not afraid to flaunt it.
Well, Nancy was usually hot. Right now she was still struggling to get a reception and her heels were probably ruined, spattered with mud as they were. Being away from the cool breeze of the air conditioning system had caused her to sweat buckets and her shirt was sticking to her with moisture.
“Yuck!” Nancy moaned as sweat trickled between her shoulder blades and over her forehead, ruining her perfect make-up and making her hair frizz terribly. This could not get any worse.
SQUELCH
More occupied with her phone than watching where she was going, Nancy had trodden right in the middle of what appeared to have once been a pond. The summer heat had evaporated all the water, but a recent bought of rain had caused the mud caked ground to soften and thicken until it was the same consistency as thick clay. Nancy’s shoe had slid right in and she’d sunk to her ankle, the quagmire holding her foot tightly in it’s filthy grip.
“Crap!” she ejaculated, and gripped wiggled her toes in their muddy prism. There was no give, so she bent at the waist and grabbed her calf with both hands, furiously tugging to get herself free.
“Come on, come on.” Nancy mumbled. If she didn’t find her wsay out soon she’d be late for the meeting, and the contract would go to someone else. She would not let that happen.
So intent was she in her task, she didn’t notice her I-phone sliding from her waistcoat and landing with a second soft ‘plop’ in the mire.
“Oh for the love of... this day cannot get any worse!” Nancy reached for the phone, forgetting her anchored situation and –
Splash
She had toppled off her shoe and landed face first in the puddle, covering her entire outfit in thick, grey muck. It squelched up around the globes of her breasts, and crept up her stocking clad thighs past the hem of her skirt. Her skirt had ridden up in the tumble, exposing her pert bottom and white lace thong to the elements, covering it in the glop as well.
Nancy was disgusted. She flailed around for a while before getting a grip and managing to push her upper body clear. Spitting out mud she sat back on her haunches and surveyed the damage.
“I’M FILTHY!” she screamed, plucking at the sweat and mud stained blouse she wore in horror. Her IPhone had been crushed in the fall and now lay submerged below the muck. Her shoes suffered the same fate, whilst the stockings had acquired a run up both seams. The back of her outfit appeared relatively unscathed with only a few small splashes marring the pristine surface, but the mud was cold despite the sweltering heat and Nancy soon started to shiver.
Her nipples hardened and strained against the fabric of her blouse and bra and goose bumps rose on her skin. She had to get out of the pit and back to the car – at least them she could call for help from the spare blackberry she stored in the glove compartment.
Strengthening her resolve, Nancy braced her legs and stood up. She wobbled briefly, then regained her balance. Smiling at the first bit of good fortune that day she started to back out of the puddle, wary of turning lest she lose her balance again.
This choice would cost her dearly as she didn’t see the small tree branch poking out from the ground, and caught her leg on it as she retreated. She had no time to stop herself and thus she tumbled backwards, landing legs akimbo and sullying the only part of her that had remained clean. Too shocked to even move, Nancy just lay in the mud with her skirt rucked up around her waist and her blouse and waistcoat ripped open by the branch. Uncaring that her breasts and knickers were on display Nancy could do nothing but flail around for purchase like a literal pig in muck.
This flailing caused the mud to ride up into Nancy clit, coating her inside and out whilst causing a tingle in her belly that wasn’t all unpleasant. Later she would admit to herself that the cool caress of the mud against her sweaty skin had felt delicious, but right now she was too preoccupied with getting back to her mini and away from the bloody countryside.
Finally managing to flip herself over (losing the waistcoat entirely in the process) she crawled to the edge of the pit and flopped onto the grass, panting heavily. Looking around her, she realised she had walked so far in her search for a signal that the mini was nowhere in sight and her predicament had disorientated her so much that she no idea where to start walking.
Nancy felt like crying, but she hadn’t cried since her dad had walked out on her aged four and she sure as hell wasn’t going to break a record twenty years in the making. No, she would simply pick a direction and head that way. She hadn’t walked for long before finding the mud pit, so if she walked for say, ten minutes, and didn’t find anything she’d simply turn around and try again.
She was just about to start walking when a quiet sound reached her –singing?
“In the Summertime, when the livin’ is easy. Your daddy’s rich, an’ your mama’s good lookin’...”
The voice was soft and rich, and Nancy shuddered as it washed over her. It was also getting closer and without giving her a chance to fix her blouse or push her hair back, a young woman appeared from behind a copse of bushes.
She was wearing a purple checked shirt under some old men’s dungarees, and big army boots on her feet. Her dark brown hair was cut short in a no-nonsense style and held back into a messy ponytail. She was shorter than Nancy at about five foot eight, and built completely differently. Where Nancy was all straight lines and angles, this stranger was plump and curvy with big hips and bigger breasts poorly disguised by her ill fitting clothes.
“Oh...” The singer halted in her pace and took in Nancy standing bedraggled and wrecked in the middle of the clearing, hair stiff with mud and shirt lying open and flapping in the breeze.
The singer’s mouth had formed a perfect ‘o’ her eyes wide with surprise, so Nancy leapt at the chance of salvation.
“Thank God! I thought I was never going to get out of here. My car’s stuck in the mud a little back... well I’m not quite sure exactly. And my Iphone is somewhere in there –“ here she gestured to the pit “- along with my shoes. I was trying to find a signal. I don’t suppose you have a phone I could use to call the AA?” Nancy smiled her most charming smile and tried to look less like an escaped mental patient.
It must have worked because the girl shook herself and smiled back, albeit rather nervously.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t have own mobile.” She said in a broad geordie accent.
‘Don’t have a phone? Geez I knew Northerners were backwards about technology but seriously?’ Nancy kept this thought to herself however, and kept smiling.
“Oh, that’s okay then. Thanks anyway.” She turned to go.
“Wait. Sorry, you gave me a fright. Not many people come round here, at least not intentionally.” She laughed. “This is my land, and the farm house is not too far. You can come back with me and get cleaned up if you like. Then I’ll call the local garage and see if someone can pick your car up for you.”
“That would be great. Thank you so much Miss...” Nancy trailed off as she realised she didn’t even know her saviours name.
“Sally. Sally Quinn. I’d offer you my hand but I think I’m dirty enough as it is, no offence.
“None taken.” Here Nancy looked at the girl (Sally) and saw mud stains and dirt marked her own lightly freckled skin – though not to quite the extent as it did Nancy.
The two women fell into step and left the clearing in amicable conversation. Nancy was so distracted she didn’t even button her blouse.
_
“Here we are.” Sally had stopped outside a small barn conversion about ten minutes walk from the clearing. Nancy stared up at it with obvious distaste, it was a far cry from her palatial penthouse flat back in Whitechapel.
“It’s, um... lovely” she muttered, distinctly lacking sincerity. Sally seemed to sense this and her laughing blue eyes grew frosty.
“Yeah well. It’s no palace but it’s home i’nt it.” She ground out before stomping over in the direction of a hosepipe.
“I didn’t mean to offend you.” Nancy quickly placated, “I’m not from around here and I’m not used to the countryside.”
“I can see that,” Sally said with a raised eyebrow before unrolling the hose and fiddling with the tap. “Now hold still.”
“What? What are you doing?”
“You’re manky, and you’re not goin’ in the house like that. I’ve just washed the floor. I’ll rinse you off out here and get a towel – then you can go inside and have a shower.”
Nancy started backing away. “It’s okay, really. If you could just go inside and phone the garage, I’ll wait out here. I don’t want to trouble you.”
“Dinnat be daft, it gets freezing here on a night. Anyway, the garage closes at four and it’s half five now – there’s no guarantee Greg’ll come out this late at night so you might be best stoppin’ here till tomorrow.” At this Sally gave a final twist and water shot from the hose...
And straight at Nancy. It was freezing cold and for the second time that day Nancy found her nipples getting hard. She squealed and the mud was jettisoned from her body and the icy liquid caressed her breasts. The blouse was now clinging to her skin and free of most of the muck, so Sally directed the jet lower onto the skirt. The stream slid even lower, shooting at her pussy and causing her to moan and squeeze her legs together with pleasure. She couldn’t be sure, but Nancy was convinced she’d seen a wicked glint in Sally’s eye as she did this but as soon as she tried to ask the jet reached the ground and the other woman was calling her.
“Turn around!” she yelled over the roar of the hose, and Nancy obliged. The treatment was repeated on her back and soon she was clean again. Well as clean as she was going to get any way.
The water had left her shivering, yet oddly aroused as she recognised the tingling she’d felt earlier whilst in the mud. Nancy was confused. Had being filthy turned her on? She had no time to ponder this however as Sally ran over and wrapped her in a huge towel, rubbing her arms to try and generate some heat.
“C’mon, let’s get you in the warm.” Sally grabbed her arm and led her towards the house and through the kitchen. Nancy clutched the towel around her shoulders and tried to ignore the electricity running up and down her arm at Sally’s touch. There was something about her warm eyes and loud voice that made Nancy feel strange. But she didn’t lie women, she like men. Men with big cocks and even bigger bank accounts. Nancy’s crisis was suddenly interrupted by Sally’s voice.
“Here you go. Have a shower and warm up, I’ll get you something to wear. I think those clothes have seen better days don’t you?” She laughed and pushed Nancy gently towards the bathroom before turning on her heel.
Nancy was left in the doorway, thinking about the fact that no woman’s arse should look that gorgeous in baggy old overalls.
_
Note from the author: Hi everyone – I decided to stop there because it had reached about two and a half thousand words and even I think that’s a bit long. I promise there will be more messy action in Chapter 2 – a lot more if I have my way, but hopefully not at the expense of a plot.
This is my first attempt at erotic fiction as well as my first messy story so I hope you’re not too disappointed!
More soon guys,
Annie xox
P.S In case anyone’s interested the song Sally sings is called ‘Summertime’ from the musical ‘Porgy & Bess’
‘Bridging the Gap’
By Annie Golightly
Chapter 1:
‘Bloody Sat Navs!’ Nancy Holloway thumped furiously on the dashboard and stared at the small computer.
As if it wasn’t bad enough that she had been forced to drive to middle-of-nowhere Yorkshire, the stupid company car she’d been given didn’t even have the decency to have a working navigation system. It had lost the signal somewhere near Leeds, only working for short bursts that told her very little – for all she knew she’d reached Scotland already, overshooting he final destination by a good number of miles.
And to top it all off she was now lost. In a field. A VERY muddy field.
Nancy clenched her teeth and tried not to scream. She was a capable executive in the cut throat world of advertising – getting where she was in what was essentially a man’s world had taken a large amount of balls and a tenacity that seemed boundless. And she was damned if she’d let a little thing called nature beat her.
She gunned the engine one more time, feeling the wheels spinning uselessly in the mire beneath her.
“Great,” Nancy muttered and climbed out of the mini-cooper, resigning herself to calling for the AA. She pushed her over-sized Gucci sunglasses up onto the top of her bright red hair and squinted at the screen of her I-phone. No Signal.
“Even better. Perhaps moving somewhere where there aren’t as many trees will fix this.”
So she set off, shielding her eyes against the bright September sunshine and trying not to sink too deeply into the grass. With hindsight, Nancy probably wasn’t dressed appropriately for a jaunt to the countryside but her spec had been simple: Drive to Darlington to meet with a regional car manufacturer who was looking to branch out in the south of England and were considering hiring ‘Alliance Advertising’ to do their Ad campaign. As the company’s hottest young executive, Nancy had literally jumped at the chance to prove herself and had welcomed the opportunity with open arms. Of course, the spec didn’t mention getting lost three times just trying to get out of London, and then tramping through the countryside in her best high heels because of the incompetence of modern technology.
A London city girl born and bed, Nancy prided herself on her appearance sand did not own one pair of ‘comfy’ knickers or ‘lazy day’ pyjamas. She lived in labels from Gucci to Prada, Manolo to Jasper Conran, and it showed. Today for example, she had left her London penthouse looking immaculate in a crisp white blouse, black waistcoat and black skirt (long enough to be proper, short enough to entice the client to choose them regardless of the quality of her pitch.) Long pale legs were covered in sheer stockings and ended in a pair of six-inch spike heeled black Manolo Blahnicks. A naturally tall girl at six foot nothing, these shoes ensured she towered over her male colleagues and made them ever more aware of their inadequacy. Small but perky breasts and an elfin style face surrounded by waist length flame red hair completed the look of serious-business-woman-do-not-mess-with-me-bitch. Nancy was hot, and not afraid to flaunt it.
Well, Nancy was usually hot. Right now she was still struggling to get a reception and her heels were probably ruined, spattered with mud as they were. Being away from the cool breeze of the air conditioning system had caused her to sweat buckets and her shirt was sticking to her with moisture.
“Yuck!” Nancy moaned as sweat trickled between her shoulder blades and over her forehead, ruining her perfect make-up and making her hair frizz terribly. This could not get any worse.
SQUELCH
More occupied with her phone than watching where she was going, Nancy had trodden right in the middle of what appeared to have once been a pond. The summer heat had evaporated all the water, but a recent bought of rain had caused the mud caked ground to soften and thicken until it was the same consistency as thick clay. Nancy’s shoe had slid right in and she’d sunk to her ankle, the quagmire holding her foot tightly in it’s filthy grip.
“Crap!” she ejaculated, and gripped wiggled her toes in their muddy prism. There was no give, so she bent at the waist and grabbed her calf with both hands, furiously tugging to get herself free.
“Come on, come on.” Nancy mumbled. If she didn’t find her wsay out soon she’d be late for the meeting, and the contract would go to someone else. She would not let that happen.
So intent was she in her task, she didn’t notice her I-phone sliding from her waistcoat and landing with a second soft ‘plop’ in the mire.
“Oh for the love of... this day cannot get any worse!” Nancy reached for the phone, forgetting her anchored situation and –
Splash
She had toppled off her shoe and landed face first in the puddle, covering her entire outfit in thick, grey muck. It squelched up around the globes of her breasts, and crept up her stocking clad thighs past the hem of her skirt. Her skirt had ridden up in the tumble, exposing her pert bottom and white lace thong to the elements, covering it in the glop as well.
Nancy was disgusted. She flailed around for a while before getting a grip and managing to push her upper body clear. Spitting out mud she sat back on her haunches and surveyed the damage.
“I’M FILTHY!” she screamed, plucking at the sweat and mud stained blouse she wore in horror. Her IPhone had been crushed in the fall and now lay submerged below the muck. Her shoes suffered the same fate, whilst the stockings had acquired a run up both seams. The back of her outfit appeared relatively unscathed with only a few small splashes marring the pristine surface, but the mud was cold despite the sweltering heat and Nancy soon started to shiver.
Her nipples hardened and strained against the fabric of her blouse and bra and goose bumps rose on her skin. She had to get out of the pit and back to the car – at least them she could call for help from the spare blackberry she stored in the glove compartment.
Strengthening her resolve, Nancy braced her legs and stood up. She wobbled briefly, then regained her balance. Smiling at the first bit of good fortune that day she started to back out of the puddle, wary of turning lest she lose her balance again.
This choice would cost her dearly as she didn’t see the small tree branch poking out from the ground, and caught her leg on it as she retreated. She had no time to stop herself and thus she tumbled backwards, landing legs akimbo and sullying the only part of her that had remained clean. Too shocked to even move, Nancy just lay in the mud with her skirt rucked up around her waist and her blouse and waistcoat ripped open by the branch. Uncaring that her breasts and knickers were on display Nancy could do nothing but flail around for purchase like a literal pig in muck.
This flailing caused the mud to ride up into Nancy clit, coating her inside and out whilst causing a tingle in her belly that wasn’t all unpleasant. Later she would admit to herself that the cool caress of the mud against her sweaty skin had felt delicious, but right now she was too preoccupied with getting back to her mini and away from the bloody countryside.
Finally managing to flip herself over (losing the waistcoat entirely in the process) she crawled to the edge of the pit and flopped onto the grass, panting heavily. Looking around her, she realised she had walked so far in her search for a signal that the mini was nowhere in sight and her predicament had disorientated her so much that she no idea where to start walking.
Nancy felt like crying, but she hadn’t cried since her dad had walked out on her aged four and she sure as hell wasn’t going to break a record twenty years in the making. No, she would simply pick a direction and head that way. She hadn’t walked for long before finding the mud pit, so if she walked for say, ten minutes, and didn’t find anything she’d simply turn around and try again.
She was just about to start walking when a quiet sound reached her –singing?
“In the Summertime, when the livin’ is easy. Your daddy’s rich, an’ your mama’s good lookin’...”
The voice was soft and rich, and Nancy shuddered as it washed over her. It was also getting closer and without giving her a chance to fix her blouse or push her hair back, a young woman appeared from behind a copse of bushes.
She was wearing a purple checked shirt under some old men’s dungarees, and big army boots on her feet. Her dark brown hair was cut short in a no-nonsense style and held back into a messy ponytail. She was shorter than Nancy at about five foot eight, and built completely differently. Where Nancy was all straight lines and angles, this stranger was plump and curvy with big hips and bigger breasts poorly disguised by her ill fitting clothes.
“Oh...” The singer halted in her pace and took in Nancy standing bedraggled and wrecked in the middle of the clearing, hair stiff with mud and shirt lying open and flapping in the breeze.
The singer’s mouth had formed a perfect ‘o’ her eyes wide with surprise, so Nancy leapt at the chance of salvation.
“Thank God! I thought I was never going to get out of here. My car’s stuck in the mud a little back... well I’m not quite sure exactly. And my Iphone is somewhere in there –“ here she gestured to the pit “- along with my shoes. I was trying to find a signal. I don’t suppose you have a phone I could use to call the AA?” Nancy smiled her most charming smile and tried to look less like an escaped mental patient.
It must have worked because the girl shook herself and smiled back, albeit rather nervously.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t have own mobile.” She said in a broad geordie accent.
‘Don’t have a phone? Geez I knew Northerners were backwards about technology but seriously?’ Nancy kept this thought to herself however, and kept smiling.
“Oh, that’s okay then. Thanks anyway.” She turned to go.
“Wait. Sorry, you gave me a fright. Not many people come round here, at least not intentionally.” She laughed. “This is my land, and the farm house is not too far. You can come back with me and get cleaned up if you like. Then I’ll call the local garage and see if someone can pick your car up for you.”
“That would be great. Thank you so much Miss...” Nancy trailed off as she realised she didn’t even know her saviours name.
“Sally. Sally Quinn. I’d offer you my hand but I think I’m dirty enough as it is, no offence.
“None taken.” Here Nancy looked at the girl (Sally) and saw mud stains and dirt marked her own lightly freckled skin – though not to quite the extent as it did Nancy.
The two women fell into step and left the clearing in amicable conversation. Nancy was so distracted she didn’t even button her blouse.
_
“Here we are.” Sally had stopped outside a small barn conversion about ten minutes walk from the clearing. Nancy stared up at it with obvious distaste, it was a far cry from her palatial penthouse flat back in Whitechapel.
“It’s, um... lovely” she muttered, distinctly lacking sincerity. Sally seemed to sense this and her laughing blue eyes grew frosty.
“Yeah well. It’s no palace but it’s home i’nt it.” She ground out before stomping over in the direction of a hosepipe.
“I didn’t mean to offend you.” Nancy quickly placated, “I’m not from around here and I’m not used to the countryside.”
“I can see that,” Sally said with a raised eyebrow before unrolling the hose and fiddling with the tap. “Now hold still.”
“What? What are you doing?”
“You’re manky, and you’re not goin’ in the house like that. I’ve just washed the floor. I’ll rinse you off out here and get a towel – then you can go inside and have a shower.”
Nancy started backing away. “It’s okay, really. If you could just go inside and phone the garage, I’ll wait out here. I don’t want to trouble you.”
“Dinnat be daft, it gets freezing here on a night. Anyway, the garage closes at four and it’s half five now – there’s no guarantee Greg’ll come out this late at night so you might be best stoppin’ here till tomorrow.” At this Sally gave a final twist and water shot from the hose...
And straight at Nancy. It was freezing cold and for the second time that day Nancy found her nipples getting hard. She squealed and the mud was jettisoned from her body and the icy liquid caressed her breasts. The blouse was now clinging to her skin and free of most of the muck, so Sally directed the jet lower onto the skirt. The stream slid even lower, shooting at her pussy and causing her to moan and squeeze her legs together with pleasure. She couldn’t be sure, but Nancy was convinced she’d seen a wicked glint in Sally’s eye as she did this but as soon as she tried to ask the jet reached the ground and the other woman was calling her.
“Turn around!” she yelled over the roar of the hose, and Nancy obliged. The treatment was repeated on her back and soon she was clean again. Well as clean as she was going to get any way.
The water had left her shivering, yet oddly aroused as she recognised the tingling she’d felt earlier whilst in the mud. Nancy was confused. Had being filthy turned her on? She had no time to ponder this however as Sally ran over and wrapped her in a huge towel, rubbing her arms to try and generate some heat.
“C’mon, let’s get you in the warm.” Sally grabbed her arm and led her towards the house and through the kitchen. Nancy clutched the towel around her shoulders and tried to ignore the electricity running up and down her arm at Sally’s touch. There was something about her warm eyes and loud voice that made Nancy feel strange. But she didn’t lie women, she like men. Men with big cocks and even bigger bank accounts. Nancy’s crisis was suddenly interrupted by Sally’s voice.
“Here you go. Have a shower and warm up, I’ll get you something to wear. I think those clothes have seen better days don’t you?” She laughed and pushed Nancy gently towards the bathroom before turning on her heel.
Nancy was left in the doorway, thinking about the fact that no woman’s arse should look that gorgeous in baggy old overalls.
_
Note from the author: Hi everyone – I decided to stop there because it had reached about two and a half thousand words and even I think that’s a bit long. I promise there will be more messy action in Chapter 2 – a lot more if I have my way, but hopefully not at the expense of a plot.
This is my first attempt at erotic fiction as well as my first messy story so I hope you’re not too disappointed!
More soon guys,
Annie xox
P.S In case anyone’s interested the song Sally sings is called ‘Summertime’ from the musical ‘Porgy & Bess’