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An early guest encounter.

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Posted by Ian on December 15, 2020 at 16:46:47

Since I have been working for my parents at the chateau I have met some really great people as our guests and learned a lot about managing a hospitality business to a high standard whilst remaining friendly and approachable to those same guests. Now that might sound like a load of marketing guff and gobbledegook but it really is true, we will only succeed in future if we make our guests feel welcome, comfortable enough to ask if they need anything we might have missed or not known about and, perhaps most importantly, make them feel feel they want to come back in future and be among friends when they do. That way they might even recommend us to their family and friends.

That first summer in 2019 I was on such a steep learning curve that I sometimes felt like I was suffering from vertigo. Tony and the other local staff were brilliant! Despite their expertise, we still ended up with a few guests who, with the best will in the world, none of us ever wanted to see again – like the lady who loudly complained about the “overly hot room” every single morning despite being told when she booked that there was no air-conditioning and that August was forecast to be very hot but still refused to open the bedroom window at night whilst demanding that she have a winter-weight duvet on the bed – but the vast majority were wonderful.

We had one couple stay with their 18 year old son. They would go out each day after breakfast to explore the country-side and visit regional towns, markets, churches and places of interest and so on. On their fourth day, I saw their car disappear down the driveway and thought, as it was a hot day, I might take the chance of an hour in the pool as they were the only guests we had staying for a couple of nights. I went and changed into my swim-shorts, grabbed a towel and told Tony where I would be if anyone wanted me. He said he’d join me shortly. I got to the pool and was surprised to find the couple’s son standing by the pool. He looked up as he heard me approach.

“Hello …… it’s Ian isn’t it?” he asked “You’re the owner of this place?”

“Yes, I’m Ian but it’s my parents who own the place, I’m just the manager.” I said “Lovely day today, the forecast is for 104 this afternoon, so I thought I’d get a swim in before it gets too hot. You’re Paul aren’t you?”

“Yes, sorry should have said…” he grinned “I was getting a bit bored with old churches and visiting chateau so fancied just being lazy. The pool looks so inviting I’m tempted to just jump in……”

“Ahh well …… “ I said looking at his faded denim jeans and blue and yellow check shirt “we actually ask guests NOT to wear their clothes in the pool – like most pools here it is just swimwear or nothing I’m afraid. Sorry.”

He grinned at me “OK, nothing it is then – that’s alright is it?”

“Yes, I guess so – up to you.” I said, caught by surprise and unable to think of another answer quickly “There is one place you can go on the estate and get wet in your clothes, if that is what you like.”

Paul’s face lit up. “Really? I’m up for that any time.” he grinned.

“You’ll get a bit muddy though……”

“Even better! Lead the way, I’m all yours….” he laughed.

“OK, wait here whilst I go and get changed, back in a minute.”

I hurried off and changed quickly into my old jeans and a tee and went back to the pool only to hear Paul in the water swimming around as I approached, “Little b*gg*r!” I thought, getting prepared to tell him off for swimming in his clothes after what I had said. But when I turned the corner and saw his clothes piled on a sun-lounger, I realised he must be swimming in the buff, as he had been prepared to do. And sure enough he was floating on his back with the water swirling around him as he moved his hands and legs, and it was obvious, despite the distortions of the rippling water, that he was rather more well endowed than an average 18 year old lad, very impressive.

Paul swam to the side as he saw me approach and hauled himself out to stand dripping in front of me, completely unembarrassed at showing all his bits.

“The water looked so inviting that I couldn’t resist.” Paul grinned as he picked up his shirt and pulled it on, before slipping into his boxers and then his jeans, not bothering to dry off.

We chatted as we walked through the grounds.

“Are you at university or college still?” I asked Paul.

“No, like you I work for my dad. I left school as soon as I could really, after doing my GCSEs. You could say that I’m a film-star.” Paul laughed.

“Really? You have the looks, I must say.”

“Thanks. But it’s not my looks dad wanted me for, he runs a film production company …... he calls them ‘arty’ though you and most other people would say ‘rude’ very likely. His films get released to certain types of outlet like members-only clubs and collectors, you definitely won’t find them showing at your local multi-screen. Are you shocked by that?”

“Not really; I mean I know those sort of films have a market, can’t say I have ever got much further than a few risqué gay videos on YouTube. What sort of parts do you play, dare I ask.”

“A recent part was my first lead, a short film called “Rodeo Rod” – Rod being my character’s name and also a reference to a certain part of the character’s anatomy, I’m sure you can guess which…..” Paul laughed “It’s the part that confirmed my liking for getting wet and muddy in my clothes. Rod is a cowboy of course who is newly involved in trying his hand at the rodeo game. It starts with me in typical cowboy outfit of blue jeans, check shirt, leather waistcoat, boots and so on, when I annoy another guy and we get in a fight which ends with him and his mates dropping me in a horse trough full of water. That’s the first time that the viewer gets an indication of why my dad thought I’d be a good bit of casting – clinging wet jeans and the fairly visible erection contained therein – the film continues with lots of getting wet and falling into mud in the rodeo arena, being dragged by my ankles through fairly deep mud by a rider on a horse, all that sort of thing. There are a couple of scenes of me, still filthy dirty, being washed in the bath by a friendly young lady and then in bed making out with her under the sheets, before being caught by her boyfriend and getting wet and muddy again as we fight in the street. It ends like it started with me being dumped in another full horse trough. The camera lingers over all the shots of me and others in wet and muddy clothes, concentrating on the ‘bulges’ as dad calls them. Not exactly high art, is it?”

“Maybe not, but it sounds like fun if you like being wet and muddy.” I said.

“It took a week of filming, most of the time with me being soaking wet or covered in mud. The trouble is that with each take you need dry clothes to re-start, so there’s lots of changing out of wet or mud soaked stuff and hastily drying off and getting dressed again only to end up exactly the same in just a few minutes. The only thing I had no trouble with was keeping an erection going, it really does turn me on being in wet clothes.” Paul explained “Shouldn’t really complain about it though, should I?”

“I’ve often wondered about the erection bit, how do you keep one going properly after all those takes?”

“Most of the guys use a mild form of that little blue pill if they need help, but that can be dangerous after long term use, so it’s mostly down to using hands as far as I can tell.” Paul laughed “Never had that problem – still too young I guess.” he grinned.

“So you had some stunt training as well for the fights and so on?” I asked.

“Yeah, that was good fun, spinning round and falling flat on your face into mud or water and having the other guy jump on you and wrestle around a bit just getting wetter and wetter – or muddier and muddier – and feeling the other guys wet or muddy weight on top of you is a nice feeling. It’s really all down to camera angles and cutting the shot away at the right moment, but you have to do it two or three times to get the full effect from different angles, more changing in and out of wet clothes. The whole intention is for the viewer to get plenty of views of wet or muddy jeans bulging with erections and so on and slow lingering shots of wet clothes against bodies, anything to make the viewer aroused. And the crew use hoses and buckets of water between shots to keep everyone as gleaming wet as possible all the time.”

“Doesn’t cold water rather subdue things?” I laughed “I know it does for me!”

“Not really – having a strong jet of water hit you in the balls and trace the outline of an erection certainly gets me going even more.” Paul grinned.

As he finished talking, we reached the clearing where the activities were and his eyes lit up again as he stopped and looked around.

“Wow …. awesome!” he whispered as he then ran towards the pond and ran straight in before splashing down. He was drenched when he stood up and sure enough there was the tell-tale bulge of a huge erection tenting out his jeans. He really was a big lad. Now, I know these things are pretty subjective, and I consider myself to be an average sized guy at best, but from what I saw now added to what I had seen in the pool when he was swimming and standing in front of me, I’d say he was at least 75% bigger than me in all respects, or indeed most of the guys I know. I could understand his dad’s reasoning for his career advice! He waded out of the pond and walked slowly back to me, looking around and absent-mindedly adjusting the lie of his erection in his jeans.

He spotted me watching him as he stopped “Oh sorry – just getting comfortable – not thinking.”

“That’s OK – I can understand now why you’re happy in your work …..” I laughed “Very impressive.”

“I always found it rather embarrassing at school, to be honest, but at work I sometimes feel really rather inadequate compared to some of the guys. But the girls are always very complimentary and kind, me being “the baby” of the cast in most of the films we do. What’s next?”

“Whatever you like really, help yourself.”

So we picked the muddy crawl-ditch and got nicely mud soaked before hitting the pond again. Then onto the mud pit and pole across which Paul thought was the very best. He knocked me off first and laughed at the state of me as I clambered out totally brown before having another go. He was laughing and grinning so much at me that I managed to knock him off first and so we decide on a third go as a decider. The sight of him sitting astride the pole with his mud soaked shirt sticking to his chest and his sodden jeans highlighting what was between his legs, was just too distracting and I fell in first before he deliberately splashed down next to me.

After that we headed back to the house still soaked in mud, to hose each other down and get clean. It was very obvious that Paul was still enjoying the mud sodden clothes all the way back and as we walked into the little yard at the side of Tony’s cottage to use the hose there, Tony came out.

“Ah, so that’s where you’ve be……. Holy S***!” Tony stopped as he saw Paul step up into view beside me.

“I sincerely hope it wasn’t!” I laughed “You’ve seen mud before ….”

“I wasn’t looking at the mud particularly ………” Tony said “……. I’ll get the hose unwound, stay there.” he finished obviously rather distracted.

“Tony, this is Paul, the son of our only guests – remember them?” I grinned “Paul, this is Tony, your chef whilst staying with us and my partner.”

“Hi, nice to meet you – may I shake hands after we’re clean?” Paul said as he held a muddy hand out and waved it at Tony.

Paul and his parents stayed another few nights after that encounter and I saw him a couple of times at the pool, dressed in swimming trunks (Speedo style, which he really filled very nicely) and trying to get a decent tan laying on the sunbeds. The second time he was with his parents, both of them in flashy swimwear that would have suited people half their age – more Paul’s age than their mid-40s – his dad still wore the flashy gold rings on each hand and his mum was made-up to the nines just as they were when they arrived – to my mind they looked just like the aged porn-stars they probably were, but hey, who am I to judge? …. their money is a good as anyone else’s! Oh, and they also booked for a return trip this year (2020) although that has now been postponed to 2021; I’m looking forward to meeting Paul again and hearing how his career is going. Incidentally, I searched on-line for his film “Rodeo Rod” but found no reference to it anywhere; shame, I would have paid to see him in his wet cowboy gear!


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