The Aphrodisiac Jacket


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Now that the dust has settled and we are, at the time of writing, well into February, I want to talk about what I got for Christmas. Now, you may not give at toss about what I got for Christmas, but if you bear with me for a bit and if I know you as well as I think I do, then I might be able to excite your interest after all.

I’m only going to tell you about one of the things I got, namely a beautiful WWII-type fur-lined leather flying jacket. Of course it looked fantastic, but being brand new and made of leather, it did also smell a bit. Not that I minded – actually I rather liked the smell.

I didn’t wear it straight away for fear of having the piss taken out of me and for fear of my jacket being the victim of some Christmas present type practical joke. So, as I say, I decided to wait for a few days after Christmas to inflict my new jacket on the general public. It would be, I think, about the 28th of December before circumstances arose which seemed to call for its unveiling.

In the afternoon of that day the temperature plummeted and the pressure rose and the good old hometown was hit by an arctic blizzard, the kind like mother used to make. The blizzard carried on well into the evening and showed no signs of abating. Now, to my mind, there are not many better experiences than sitting round a roaring log fire in the local pub, clutching a pint and talking with friends, while the fat-headed weather is trying and failing to batter its way through the walls and windows.

So, I donned the jacket and the Biggles white scarf and climbed into the Range Rover and battled my way through the snow to the local. The weather had turned a five minute walk into a ten minute drive, but I staggered into the pub battered but unbowed and, in the sprit that made Britain great… there was no bugger there! Not one single fellow customer!

I hadn’t gotten over the shock of being the only customer when a second one hit me…

"Theresa! Fancy seeing you behind the bar!"

"I know. Not so surprised to see you that side though," she grinned.

I can see a few words of explanation are needed. Theresa used to work behind the bar here, but she’d left some years ago. The last I heard from her she was working in another pub nearby. Theresa is a tall, willowy young lady of some 28 summers. I had been watching the news just before coming out that night and, facially, she reminded me of Sky News’ Washington correspondent; I think her name is Pippa Clarke. Theresa, though, is a brunette.

She was wearing a white collarless cheesecloth shirt and tight blue denim jeans.

"What will you have?" she asked.

"Pint of the Moonshine please. And one for yourself?"

"I'll have half of Moonshine with you as well, thank you very much."

As there was no one else in the pub, I was able to sit at one of the high chairs at the corner of the bar. I sipped my pint and watched Theresa pour her own drink.

"Right, this needs thrashing out," I told her.

"Wot does?" she asked, folding her arms and leaning on the bar. She was looking straight into my eyes and her face was rather closer to mine than was really necessary. Well within kissing distance!

Funnily enough, I got the impression that this wasn't far from her mind.

I had given her the occasional kiss of a greeting if we met, say, in another pub or at a night-club, but I was surprised at how intimate she was becoming. I remember thinking at the time that she might have been stirred by the violence of the weather. The wind and the snow certainly were battering the windows that night.

"What’re you doing here?" I asked her. "Have you come back to work here again, then?"

"No," she replied, "Jim"(that's the owner of the pub) "telephoned me to say that none of his staff could get here tonight. He’s snowed in himself, so he called me and asked if I’d mind coming in. I agreed because I am not due to be working at ‘The Kings Air’ tonight. and…"

All at once, she stood up straight and said, "Oh, I got a tickle!"

Next thing I knew, she’d turned to her right with her finger under her nose in a wonderful pre-sneeze profile.

"Ah… nntch….OOH!"

"Oh, bless you!"

"Thank you." She returned to her previous position, leaning across the bar in front of me.

Suddenly we were kissing each other passionately. She brought a  hand around the back of my head and pulled me closer towards her. Things were definitely looking up! One thing in particular!

Unfortunately, we were interrupted by a beep-beep noise from inside the kitchen. It sounded surprisingly like a microwave.

"Oh, hell!" she exclaimed, "you'll have to excuse me for a bit."

She disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few seconds later with a tray full of steaming... pint glasses! The noise I’d heard was the glass washing machine.

She put the tray down on the bar and began taking glasses out two at a time, balancing them expertly on the shelf above her head.

I must admit I was enjoying watching Theresa hard at work, her fine figure straining as she stretched to stack up the glasses. Then I noticed her eyes were half lidded and her mouth was slightly open.

She saw me looking at her, smiled at me and said, "I'm gonna sneeze again."

She managed to take two more glasses from the tray and put them on the shelf before she turned away again and put her finger under her nose.

"AH… nntch.. OOOHHHH!"

My mouth went dry and I hurriedly had to finish the rest of my pint.

Ever the professional and seeing that my glass was now empty, she said, "Same again?"

"Yes please. And how about another one for you?"

"No, thanks, I'll stick with this one."

She began pulling me a new pint, but after a couple of pulls her eyes began to flutter.

"Oh, I’ve got the sneezes!" she said, and with that she buried her face into the crook of her arm. 

"Hah … Tictcchh!" she squeaked.

Recovering her composure, she finished pulling my pint.

"That’ll be £1.50 please."

I gave her a fiver and she went over to the till. I watched as her finger hovered tantalisingly under her nose. After a few seconds, she took her hand away and tried to operate the till keys, but before she could press any of them, her finger moved back under her nose. Then she ran, still with her finger under her nose, into the kitchen from where I heard a lusty,


Theresa reappeared from the kitchen, put the fiver into the till and gave me my change. Having served me, she went back to putting clean glasses on the shelves. The sneezes seemed to have robbed her of conversation, but at least they were giving my eyes a good time. I didn’t have long to wait for the next episode as, again, she picked a couple of glasses out of the tray and rested them on the bar before she was assailed by the next sneeze.

As with the last one, she ran across the bar into the kitchen and again I heard a muffled explosion.


There was a delicious moment of silence in which I wondered if she might sneeze again, only for the mood to be broken by the phone behind the bar ringing. Theresa ran back in to answer it.

"Hello, ‘The Old Heckler’. Oh, hi… "

She looked across in my direction. "Yes, yes he is… no, there’s no one else in. Okay."

Passing the phone over to me, she said, "It’s Jim. He wants to speak to you."

"Hiya, chap. Have you got your Range Rover with you?"

"Yes I have," I replied. "Why?"

"I wanted Theresa to close the pub now. I’m not going to get any more customers and I don't want her stuck in this snow. Do you mind taking her home for me?"

I certainly didn't!

"That’s okay Jim, no problem at all."

"That’s brilliant," he said. "Give the phone back to Theresa and I'll tell her."

I handed her back the receiver and waited. After finishing the conversation with Jim she emerged on my side of the bar wearing her coat.

"Can you help me lock the doors?" she asked.

"Sure." I had experience of the two outer doors of the pub and I knew them to be a pair of sods.

When going into the pub, these two doors are left open and they lead you into a small porch affair from where you can either enter the main pub or turn left into a little side bar referred to as 'the Dram Shop' by the locals. The two outer doors are, as I say, very difficult to lock and bolt because they have to be lined up with each other and with their respective bolt holes in the ceiling and the floor. It’s much easier for this operation to be carried out by two people – that way one person can line the doors up while the other locks and bolts them. Trouble is that there is little room within the porch for two people.

It's not so bad, though, if you have to brush against a busty, sneezy barmaid!

I lined up the doors while Theresa locked and bolted them. We were now in the small porch area in-between the two closed double doors. I watched excitedly as Theresa pinched her nose and looked up at the light.

"Oh," she gasped, "I dod’t dow what’s bakig be wadt to sdeeze so buch todight!"

"Do you often have sneezing fits?" I asked, trying to mask my rising excitement.

"Sdeezig fits?" She took her thumb and finger away from her nose and put her head on one side in thought. "No, not really. I do get them, but they’re very rare. When I do, I can rapid fire up to 10 sneezes at a time. But tonight I just get a tickle and then I sneeze and the tickle goes away and then I get another tickle and have to sneeze again."

She put her arm around my waist and lead me through the double swing  doors and into the main area in the pub.

"Oh… talking about…" She turned her head away again, but this time nothing happened.

It was then, though, that I had my idea that the smell from my new jacket might be what was causing Theresa to sneeze so much.

"I wonder," I suggested, "if it's my new jacket that’s making you sneeze. Have a smell.

"Okay," she said, putting her head into the collar of my jacket and taking a deep breath. "Ooh … I think it smells really great, and..." She pinched her nose and looked at the light again. "Oh, do you know, I think you're right!"

With that, she stifled three high pitched feminine sneezes.

"Ahh… nntch! titcht! tish! oooh, excuse me!"

"Oh, bless you!"

"Thank you." She put her arms around my neck and pulled me towards her. "God, I feel fruity tonight!"

Buoyed by her excitement, I grabbed her round the waist and we kissed hungrily.

"I'm glad you’re taking me home tonight," she purred. "It’s been so long since I had a man."

I was now more than ever convinced that my new jacket was having this peculiar effect on young Theresa. Eventually, however, she pulled away and said, "Come on, you; take me home before I have an accident in here!"

She led me out of the pub and into the maelstrom outside. Fortunately I was parked very close to the back door and I was able to get us into my car before we both died of exposure. Since the blizzard was blowing straight at the windscreen, I had to take it very slowly indeed.

While I was driving, Theresa started talking by my side. Although she was addressing her comments to me I'd got the distinct impression that she was actually talking to herself. She seemed to be working herself up into a real frenzy. Listening to her talking was turning me on like an electric fan!

"I’m so glad you're taking me home tonight," she repeated. She was breathing heavily as she spoke. "I'm so excited. I really want to make this a night to remember."

She was so turned on now that she was beginning to find it difficult to speak. She moved over towards me and breathed into my ear. "Let me have another smell of that jacket…It smells so nice! I can’t wait to get you home... Oh.. and I’ve got … to do another… snee…sneeze… Aah… AAHH... Oh… nearly!"

Needless to say, I was finding concentrating on driving very difficult. Eventually, about five times longer than it would have taken on a normal night to have walked it, we reached the main road. I stopped at the Give Way sign and looked at her for directions. She was rubbing her nose.

"Go straight... on," she breathed, "while... I… snuh… huh…sneeze.. AH... AAHH… SHEEWW! Oh dear me again. You can park up just behind that white Mondeo."

We flew out of the car through the snow and in through the front door of her small terraced house. Having closed the door, she grabbed me by the hand and pulled me upstairs to her bedroom. Once we were there she reached for my coat.

"Here, let me take this off you. You won't be needing that up here."

Then we were pawing at each other like animals, resting our clothes from one another's bodies. We fell on to the top of her bed; too excited even to be able to get between the sheets.

For a while we kissed, Theresa ran her hands across my chest and down towards my cock. I felt the warmth of her breath against me. I responded by gently sucking her nipples. Then she drew me inside her.

"Come on," she whispered, but I didn’t need any encouragement.

We were locked in a rhythm together, generating more energy than the storm outside.

"Come on," she repeated, her voice more urgent now. "That’s it. Right there."

I pushed deeper, breathless with excitement. Her body responded, tightening around me.

"Theresa," I exclaimed desperately, "I can't hold back any longer!"

"No don't. I'm gonna come!" she shouted.

I opened my eyes to see her body rippling under her cheese cloth shirt. It was too much from me and I exploded inside her.

Afterwards Theresa let me stay the night. We made love several times, but sadly there were no more sneezes.


The next outing for the jacket was on New Year's Eve. Naturally I was spending the night in the same pub where I had met Theresa just a few days earlier. This time, however, it was absolutely packed. The landlord had hired a rhythm and blues bands that were playing in the main area of the bar. I had been in the pub for some hours and I had all but forgotten about my experiences with the lovely Theresa. At about 11.30 that evening I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned round to see who the owner of the finger was.

"My God!" I exclaimed. "Laura! What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," she replied, smiling. 

"I only live just round the corner. What are you doing in here?"

"I'm with some friends from the band," she explained.

Laura and I had worked together some 10 or 12 years ago and we hadn’t seen much of each other since. She was a handsome woman with a beautiful figure and she didn’t seem to have changed much over those passing years. She had short, cropped brown hair and was wearing a rose pink longed sleeved T shirt and tight blue jeans. There was something appealing about her soft but distinct Geordie accent.

I had always found Laura attractive, but her politics were far to the left of mine at the time we worked together and she was very active within the union. I remember I used to find that rather intimidating back then. Tonight, all was different. It seemed that we were both rather mellow as a result of what we’d been drinking.

Although the bar was very full, it did seem to me that she was standing rather closer to me than might have been necessary. Mind you, I wasn't complaining!

At that point though, our conversation was interrupted by an announcement that it was approaching midnight.

Everyone went silent as the sounds of the chimes of Big Ben were relayed through the P.A. in the bar. At the stroke of midnight, everyone cheered and released streamers and we all sang Auld Lang Sine. And then Laura and I turned to face each other. She put her arms around my neck and whispered,

"Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year, Laura," I replied.

We kissed long and passionately, not caring what anyone else might see or think. I was happily thinking this could last all night, but then she broke off and turned her head to the right. She still had her arms around my neck and she pulled them tighter around me so that she could put a finger under her nose.

I waited expectantly, but nothing happened.

"It's alright I thought I was going to sn… " She turned her face away again, but still nothing happened.

"Ooh nearly!" she said, rubbing her nose. "Perhaps it's the cigarette smoke that's getting to me, maybe we could go outside."

"Okay," I said. I was thinking bloody hell, it’s happening again!

"Good. I'll just go and fetch my coat."

She disappeared towards the back of the pub and came back wearing a long black coat. I took her hand and led her outside into the beer garden. It was hard to imagine a more different evening than the one I had battled through with Theresa only a few days earlier. True enough it was cold; it was midwinter and had every right to be. Much of the snow that had fallen in the previous days still lay on the ground, but the sky was clear and the stars were bright. I put my arms around her waist and pulled her towards me. We began to kiss passionately again and my hands had moved southwards to feel her gorgeous, tight sexy bottom.

Suddenly Laura pulled away again and looked me in the face. "I keep feeling like I want sneeze, but I can't."

Her voice changed to a whisper and her nostrils flared. Then her eyes began to flutter, "I’m just... on the… verge... huh... huhh…"

But again nothing happened.

"I'm so sorry about this." Then she reached down and put her hand on the bulge threatening to break out of my jeans. "Though it doesn't seem to be putting you off."

"Actually," I replied, "it's having the opposite effect."

"You’re joking me," she answered, astonished.

"No, honestly. It really is turning me on."

Laura continued to massage my erection and said, "Well, I suppose what can't speak can't lie!"

"A lot of this still has to do with you having such a gorgeous figure, though," I reassured her.

She looked at me with an expression so sexy that she almost smouldered. "Flattery will get you everywhere," she purred.

With that, we recommenced our passionate kissing session, noisily and greedily consuming one another. Laura broke off again. This time it was to say,

"Oh, GOD, isn’t there anywhere we can go?"

"My place?" I ventured.

"Is it far?"

"No. I only live around the corner. Five minutes walk, tops."

"Right, then," she said. "Let’s go."

And, with that, she grabbed me by the hand and hauled me out of the beer garden and into the street. I must say that this was not the Laura that I remembered. She was more interested in politics back then, almost to the point of obsession. I have always been pretty uneasy around obsessions, but I hadn’t seen Laura for over 10 years and she could well have changed in that time.

Also, the pathways to lust had been well greased by alcohol.

We had only been walking for a couple of minutes when I pulled her towards me again and we began kissing hungrily. Laura pushed me away.

 "No, don't," she whispered. I thought this time I had finally overstepped the mark.

"I'm sorry... " I said.

"No, it's all right. It’s just that I'm close to boiling over. And it… once I start, I just can't stop." Once again, her face glazed over with lust. "And I tend to get a bit... noisy," she added.

"Okay." I  took her by the hand and led her home. We almost ran the rest of the way there.

Now I have about twelve keys on my key ring, and of course when I’m in a rush I can't find the key to my door, especially when it's dark. Laura was stood behind me, her arms around my waist. Gently she started manipulating the front of my jeans.

"Puh- please hurry," she gasped.

Eventually I found the key and we tumbled into my house. I had her pinned against the wall and we were desperately clutching at each other’s clothing. In next to no time we were standing against the wall, naked from the waist down.

"Come on," she said, "let's go to bed!"

"Okay," I replied, but I was too sexed up to move.

"Come on!" she urged and we kind of rolled along the wall to the bottom of my stairs.

Then she squealed, "Oh god, I can't wait any longer!"

We fell together, Laura on top of me. She clawed at my back, digging her fingers into me. I fumbled my way inside her, suddenly reminded of how eager Theresa had been a few nights before. It must be the jacket, I thought excitedly. But there wasn’t really much time for thought.

We were a blur of motion as we made love. I tried to hold myself back, gently caressing Laura towards orgasm, my fingers stroking her nipples. Every movement I made seemed to elicit a louder response of pleasure. She was building herself up to fever pitch and carrying me along for the ride.

Eventually her body bucked and twisted and I felt myself lose control and come inside her.

I exhaled deeply. This was a fairly ungainly position to be in. "Come on, let's go up to the bedroom."

She smiled at me and allowed me to lead her upstairs to my bed.

Laura sat down and I stood facing her. She said, "You know, you look such a nit standing naked from the waist down with that flying jacket on."

"Okay then," I replied, "I’ll take it off."

"Here, give it to me. I’ll fold it up properly."

So I took the thing off and gave it to her. She carefully folded it up and laid it on a coffee table I have in front of my bedroom window. She then returned and sat back on the bed. She looked wonderfully sexy; her T-shirt acting as a mini dress. Then she inclined her head in an almost shy fashion and said, " Oh… my itchy nose.. has come… b-… back!"

Immediately my cock rose up to stare at her in the face like an inquisitive dog. Laura squealed with amusement, and collapsed on the bed giggling. Then she sat back up and stared at my cock again and said, "Honestly, I’ve never seen or heard anythi…oh… I wish I could sneeze for you!"

"Well,"  I offered, "let me turn on the light. If you look into a bright light it might help."

"Why should that make any difference?" she asked. "Oh, I don't know, though..."

She began to tighten her top lip as she put her finger under her nose and said, "Oh... this time... AAHH…TCCHEWWWW!"

Her beautiful breasts bobbled as she sneezed and my cock twitched in sympathy.

"It liked that, didn’t it?" said Laura. "How long have you .." she stammered. She kept her finger under her nose and tried again. "How long... ahh... AAAHH… have you…AAHH…TISH... ooh. Dear me..  had this... oh … I’ve got….ATISHOOO!- the sneezes… have … AAHH…" This time there was a dramatic pause of a few seconds and, "AHHH … TISSHOOOOHH!"

My cock was about ready to explode and this had not gone unnoticed.

Laura looked at me and smiled. "I think you better find somewhere to hide that thing before it gets out of control."

I didn’t need a second invitation. She lay on her back on the bed and I climbed on top and slid inside her. Laura was ringing wet. She was as sexed up as I was! It wasn’t long before I felt myself fully aroused, pushing with more urgency into Laura.

"Oh God… I’m gonna come again! I'm gonna come! I... oh... oooh... AAAH!"

For a second I had lost all control. I watched Laura’s lips spread wide open, a delicate smile revealed and then I felt her body shiver beneath me. We rolled over and lay in each others arms, finally exhausted.

It didn’t seem to me that Laura made the connection between the sex, the sneezing and the jacket, whereas I did get the impression that Theresa had suspected something and she may have twigged that it was my jacket that was making her horny as well.

Interesting though, isn’t it? No? Oh well, please yourselves.

Let me know if you want me to tell you about any other incidents that my new jacket may cause. After all, I don’t want to bore you!