Sex stories, incest, mom and son, Son takes mum’s old bike out of storage… My mountain bike was upside down and in pieces round the back of the house and I was bent over it, my arms streaked with oil, making some odd adjustment or other when my mum breezed past me. I closed my eyes and waited for that delicious scent which I knew would inevitably follow in her wake, and…mmm, there it was. Don’t ask me to name it, you don’t give names to things which defy description. She held a basket of washing to her hip before putting it down onto the grass to prepare it for hanging.
“Mum, we’ve got this thing called a spin dryer for that. Why are you giving yourself more work?”
“Eddie, if you’d look up from that (I know she wanted to say ‘bloody’…) bike of yours, you’ll see what a glorious day it is. Believe me, there’s nothing more satisfying than the smell of fresh washing drying out in the sun.”
I smiled and thought back onto that scent I’d just experienced as she’d passed by, but thought it wiser not to mention it.
“D’you need some help?”
“What?!? Look at you, you’re filthy, I’d have to start all over again!”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll be out of your hair in a bit though, I’m going to take the bike for a spin later and make sure there’ll be no last problems.”
That’s what I was doing. Myself and a couple of mates, we’d decided we wanted to do an epic bike ride after Uni. The original plan had obviously been to get into the Guinness Book of Records by trying something like biking the whole length of the American coastline, North AND South, but had rapidly adjusted our plans to a leisurely tour of Europe. We were all enthousiastic, but we knew we weren’t athletes. So to prepare, we thought we’d do Wales over two or three days during the next week.
Mum was standing there in a dream.
She said, “You remember when your dad and I used to take the gang of you kids out on the train with our bikes to Hayfield and we’d ride around in the countryside and have a picnic and all the sheep would decide they wanted to share in the sandwiches as well?”
She was giggling, my mum, just like a little girl.
Of course I remembered it. My dad had taken photos of mum, in her sleeveless thin summer dress, trying to shoo away the sheep by wafting the bottom of her dress at them. We and the sheep thought this was kind of hilarious so she’d decided to up the ante and chase after them, only to come a cropper by tripping over a branch. Dad, in his infinite wisdom, had decided to preserve the moment for posterity by taking another picture before rushing over to help her up. What a picture. He couldn’t have taken a better one if he’d posed her a thousand times over. The look of surprise in her eyes, her hand raised to push back the hair that had come loose over her face, the dress up around her thighs, showing just a glimpse of the white panties we knew she was wearing anyway (that summer dress had been very thin…) and that gorgeous expanse of leg….. I knew the picture by heart, and if for some reason I’d want reminding, I could always look at it again because after dad had died and mum and I had spent an evening going through heaps of old pics and feeling sentimental, we’d come across it.
“Mum, why isn’t this one in the album?” I smiled, holding it up to show her. She’d made a grab for it, laughing, and I of course, had snatched my hand away at the last moment.
“Mmmm, now let’s see, I remember this. Weren’t you in a sheep-shearing contest or something?”
“No, I was trying to swim to Hayfield but the grass was too tall, now gimme that…” And with that she snatched it away, smiled at it once more and replaced it in the heap. Of course it should go without saying that I later returned to the stash, took out the picture and scanned it into my computer before returning it. I really did want to have it as the background on my desktop, but instead, printed off an enlarged copy which I later hung together with the rearview of a lady playing tennis, with no knickers, on my dormroom wall.
Many of my friends were impressed and very interested in who this ‘cougar’ was. So I took it down because I realised that one day mum might actually come for a visit and my mates would think I’d got the hots for my mum. It wasn’t that. At least I don’t think it was that. Oh no, I hoped it wasn’t that. Was it that?
I think she’d forgotten she was supposed to be hanging the washing, because she remained standing there, lost in thought, rooted to the spot, a cream pillowslip in her hands.
“Mum, I’ve just had a great thought. We’ve still got your old bike in the shed. Let me do it up for you and we can go for a ride together?”
She looked up, her train of thought broken.
“What? What!? You kidding? I’ve not been on a bike for years..”
“But you don’t forget mum, it’s like, umm, riding a bike… Look, I’ll tell you what, let’s have a look at it, give it the once-over, and if it’s in any nick I’ll fix it up, you can give it a run round the block and, I know! Tomorrow – tomorrow we’ll go out to Hayfield like we used to, take a few sandwiches and we’ll make a day of it…”
Without waiting for an answer I strode off towards the shed where mum’s bicycle might be. I say ‘might’ because over time we’d piled all those things like old chairs and appliances, especially after dad had passed away, into the back, and now I was confronted with a huge mound of – well, junk. But there at the bottom I could just make out part of a wheel. Hopefully the rest of the bicycle was there too, and after half an hour of moving stuff around I found that, indeed, it was.
It was the perfect lady’s bicycle – mudguards, no crossbar, handlebars that bent round towards you, with a bell, and a basket for carrying shopping – and flat tyres…..
“See, it’s no good, the tyres are perished. And anyway, didn’t it used to be red?”
It was now a deep pink, the colour having faded somewhat, but….
“Leave it to me, it’s no problem, it’s Eddie to the rescue!”
And with that I whipped the bike onto its back and got to work. There really wasn’t much wrong that a few squirts of WD40 wouldn’t solve, and I went over to the bicycle shop in town and replaced the tyres and inner-tubes with brand new ones.
“Dadah..!”
“Oh, I dunno, I…”
“On you get.”
“Maybe I need training wheels…”
“I’m holding it steady, on you get.”
With a comical grimace she took hold of the handlebars and stood astride the bike.
“I’m holding it, now up you…”
Before I’d finished, she plonked herself onto the saddle – well, more accurately, onto my hand holding the saddle…. Her bum was warm and soft on my hand, and I felt her cheeks press down on me alternately as she began, slowly at first, to pedal. If she felt my hand there, she didn’t mention it.
“Woohoo..!”
She pedalled faster and my hand was left behind in empty space. For some reason I just stared at the hand.
And then suddenly she was turning back towards me, not quite in a straight line, as she used one hand to hold down her skirt to protect her modesty. She headed directly for me and…
“Whoa..!” I laughed as I grabbed the handlebars with both hands and ran backwards. “This thing’s got brakes you know..”
She was laughing so much as she came to a halt, and brushed her auburn hair back out of her eyes, lifting her face to the sunlight – wow, deja vu, she looked so lovely, the years slipped away from her.
“Ummm, well?”
“Yes. You know what? Yes! I need a change, I need a….yes, let’s do it…”
So it was decided. That evening we pored over maps together and looked at the train schedules, we packed sandwiches, we lay together shoulder to shoulder on the carpet, each with a glass of wine, making the final preparations. And then we were ready. We got up. Nothing to do but… I hugged her tightly and kissed her on the cheek.
“Mum, we’re going to have a great old time tomorrow. It’s going to be fun.”
“Ooh,” she smiling, “I’ve not been hugged like that for ages…”
Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it wasn’t.
“Goodnight mum. Should I put the alarm?”
“No I don’t think so. I’m really looking forward to this now, I’ll be wide awake with the birds.”
She kissed me on the cheek. “Goodnight Eddie.”
I lay awake in my bed that night going back over what had happened, enjoying again the feel of her bum on my hand, her rejuvenated face in the sunlight, the hug, her….
“Wake up sleepyhead, the sun’s up and you’re not.”
One train and a local bus later, we were out into the winding lanes of the Peak District, the sun shining, the birds doing what birds do and, well, suddenly all seemed right with the world. We cycled easily, side-by-side most of the time because there was very little traffic except for the local stuff, and we both smiled idiotically at one another when we caught each other’s glances. Occasionally I’d drop behind her in order to shield her from any car approaching from the rear, and then I’d look her over, my mum, just enjoying life, finally.
Her shoulder-length hair was held back with a band, her shoulders almost bare with only the thin spaghetti straps of her flowery dress stretching over them. Underneath her dress she wore a strapless white bra. Just like last time, she’d chosen her dress ‘so I don’t sweat like a pig’. She’d said it would be a good opportunity to get a tan, since she wasn’t one to just lie out in the back garden in a bikini. That was why she also rode bare-legged. Of course I noticed. And, it seemed, so did a group of other cyclists passing in the opposite direction, almost resulting in a couple of collisions. Apparently they also thought she looked hot.
Coming over one of many rises, we saw the road stretch out in a straight line below us down into the valley. We were a bit tired after the climb (not so much me, after all I’d got so many more gears on my bike), and my mum was breathing heavily, making the front bodice of her dress swell with each intake of breath – but looking down the road we knew we’d be able to coast down it and pick up a bit of speed maybe to take us up over the next rise……We understood each other perfectly and pushed off together down the hill.
Now city dwellers are blithely unaware of what goes on in nature, and for some reason they don’t know that running water tends to take the easiest, usually the lowest course to flow along. Thus as we soared down the road at top speed, we suddenly became aware of a silvery glistening strip crossing our path at the bottom. We glanced nervously at one another and then with big grins, took our feet off the pedals, spread our legs and went surging through the ford. The water rose up in huge arcs around us, my mum’s soaking me from head to toe and mine doing likewise to her.
We came to a gasping, spluttering, shaggy-dog-shaking stop on the other side. We just looked one another over and burst out laughing. I knew I probably looked a sight, but my mum, she was like a drowned fish – a lovely doe-eyed drowned fish with the water droplets sparkling off her smooth skin, her hair flattened and dripping, and her dress… plastered to her body and amazingly transparent.
She may as well have been wearing a sheer negligee for any good the dress did in covering her.
Her…
“Eddie…”
bra showed the intricate little lace pattern adorning the top over which her bosom spilled.
The areolas clearly defined under the stretched fabric. And further down….
“Eddie…!”
Her tiny panties taut over her mound, in the middle of which a groove…
“EDDIE…!!”
“Uh?”
“Stop gawping like a … look, we’ve got to dry ourselves off, so maybe now’ll be a good time
for those sandwiches? At least if they’re not a soggy mess…”
“Uh? Oh, yeah, let’s, um, let’s, um, let’s… no, I wrapped ’em in greaseproof paper…”
There was a gap in the hedge by the side of the lane, so we wheeled our bikes through it, mum first and, oh God, the view from the back! The tiny white triangle of panty bounced and bobbed as we made our way through the gap and into the field. There were a couple of trees hanging over what had opened out into a lively brook, so we made our way over to the bank.
“We’ve got to dry off. Put the blanket down over there in the sun and take your shirt and pants off. It’s nice and warm but we’ll be shivering if we stay in these wet things.”
And with that, she laid the bicycle to one side, crossed her arms and pulled the dress over her head.
I opened the blanket out and stood back up. I undid my belt, unzipped my shorts and dropped them to the ground. I took my T-shirt in both hands and drew it up over my chest. I managed to extricate my head from the neck of my shirt to find my mum staring at me in the way I imagine I’d been staring at her just a few moments earlier, her gaze focussing on my boxers where…uhuh….
“Er, the sandwiches, I think I’ve got them in one of my bags, but you’ve got the thermos with the coffee and… mum?”
“Oh, the thermos, sure, let’s see now…”
And with that she busied herself preparing our picnic, seemingly very intent on the design of the plastic plates.
The preparations took only a few minutes, but that was sufficient time for mum to gather herself together and face me, kneeling upright on the blanket.
“Eddie, I… Eddie…” She had a small smile on her face which expanded into a broad grin.
“We’re a right couple of wassocks, aren’t we? I, haha, back there, I really wanted to jam on the brakes but, I don’t know, I just couldn’t… I could see it coming towards me like in slow motion and… whoosh..!” She flung up her arms and spread her fingers and “Spladoosh! Wurgh! All over me…!” Her fingers spiralled down over her body, “But you, you looked so shocked… Like you were asking yourself ‘what the hell just happened to me?’ But you weren’t getting any answers. Oh, haaaaahaaahaaa…!!” She rolled on her back convulsed in laughter, clutching her stomach, “It was sooo funny..!” The epitome of ‘rotflmao’….
But she’d broken the tension. We laughed and chatted easily as we downed the coffee and sandwiches, and after that we lay back on the blanket in the sun and let it bake us dry.
Maybe I fell asleep to the droning of the bees and flies, but my nose tickled and – I opened my eyes. Mum was crouched over me with a long blade of grass which she was now using to caress my cheek. She replaced it with a kiss, her breast squeezing up against my bare chest as she did so.
“Come on, we’ve got places to see, nooks and crannies to explore…” She looked like she was considering what she’d just said but then shrugged and bent over to pick up her dress, her bum cheeks seeming to give me a little wave in so doing …
“Why don’t you leave your shirt off, Eddie? You’ve got a great body and I noticed you can do with a little sun. I mean, you know, all that studying…” Had my mum been sussing me out while I dozed?
But I did as she said and stuffed my shirt into one of the side bags.
Then we were off again, and it was getting to middle afternoon, though I wished I could have halted time on this day and played it over and over.
Mum now seemed to be in her element, and started swinging her bike from left to right, singing along to herself, something about raindrops falling on her head. I was easily pedalling behind her, savouring the pleasures of being her spectator, when a deep roar emerged from round the bend. A flash of racing green suddenly appeared in the middle of the road just as mum’s swing also took her into the middle.
It was a confused second. The sportscar swerved frantically to the side, mum swerved as well, losing control of the bike and careening off the side of the road. The driver didn’t stop. I watched the taillights of the car disappear over the hill with an added burst of acceleration, then turned back to where mum had disappeared. Mum? I couldn’t see her. I could only see the rear wheel of her bike on its side turning lazily, but where was mum?? I frantically dropped my own bike and raced over to the edge. There she was, sprawled in the ditch, arms and legs at all angles. I shimmied quickly down to her, tears already beginning to swim in front of my eyes. I took her head as gently as possible into my arms and wiped away the hair and blood and brought my face close to hers.
“Mum! Mum! … oh God, mum…!”
Her eyes flickered open and she seemed to look in all directions at once before focussing on me.
“Wha… wh….?”
She brought up a scraped hand to my face and tried to wipe away the tears which were now freely flowing down my cheeks. Then she lifted her other arm around the back of my head and pulled me down to her chest.
“What the fuck just happened?”
“A car… fucking idiot didn’t stop…. the bastard…. you’re OK now… you OK? Jeez. Hold on, don’t move…”
“I don’t think I can.”
I scrambled back up to my bike and took out the first-aid pack I’d thought to bring along and then scrambled back down to her.
She was rubbing the side of her head.
“Don’t move. Look, mum, we’ve got to see what condition you’re in, so just don’t move, OK?”
“OK boss…. be gentle…” She closed her eyes, but I knew she might have concussion so I couldn’t let her lose consciousness. I slapped her a couple of times on the cheek.
“Stay with me, all right? Stay with me. I need you awake..”
“Ow, that hurt….”
“I’m going to look you over, see what the damage is..”
Did I see her actually smile when I said that?
But now I was totally concentrating on the job at hand. The blood turned out to be mostly superficial, from her right leg and arm. I had her move all her joints. I pressed into her back and into her stomach and asked her did it hurt? could she feel what I was doing? was there pain here? there? her ribs maybe? Only her ankle. It wasn’t broken, but she’d twisted it. I sat back.
“I think you can try and sit up now.”
“Thanks, doc.”
“Look, there’s another stream back there. Thank heavens we’re in the Peak District, they seem to have streams all over the show. I’m going to bring some water and get you cleaned up a bit and we’ll get some iodine on those scrapes..”
I went to get the thermos from her pack, but the glass inside had splintered in the crash. So I took a couple of plastic cups. When I got back she was still sitting in the ditch but she’d taken her dress off and was examining herself, trying to look under her arm and behind her.
“Let me do that.”
I didn’t think twice and unhooked her bra and pulled the side of her panties down over her hip. There was a long scrape down the side of her body. I went to work with my T-shirt which I used as a towel to wipe her clean, and then dabbed iodine into the injuries with cotton wool. As I worked, my eyes were drawn to her breasts. She wasn’t covering them and I was surprised at how firm they seemed to be, very little sag, and the nipples, pointing…maybe she was cold? shock, maybe?
I looked up. She was watching my face. She was smiling.
“Come here.”
She held out her arms and I fell into them, my face pressed up against her breast, her nipple oh so close to my mouth – I could stick out my tongue…. She kissed the top of my head. I kissed her breast.
I lifted my head away from her and we both looked into one another’s eyes, then fell back into a tight hug. We stayed like that for a minute or so, and then reason prevailed. Mum, all business, said,
“I’m going to try and stand now but you might have to catch me if I fall…”
With that, using my shoulder as a crutch, she levered herself up and tried to put her weight on both legs. She immediately lifted her right foot off the ground.
“Ow, no, it’s too sore. What can we do?”
It was a strange sight. She was leaning there against my shoulder wearing only her panties, and even they had been lowered at one side so that I could tend to her.
She was looking at me enquiringly. I was looking into her face, but my mind was taking in her lovely body.
A light flashed on in my head.
“Your bra – give me your bra, it’s elasticated, so we’ll wrap it round your ankle a few times to keep it in place just like an elastic bandage!”
“You are a genius.”
She sat back and lifted her leg gingerly onto my lap. I got to work wrapping the bra around the ankle, very conscious of the fact that if I raised my eyes I would have a view right up into the crotch of her panties…
“Maybe we should use my panties to tie it in place?”
I looked up into her smiling face.
“No, it’ll be fine, it’s got the hooks and clasp that you normally use for fastening it…. good idea though..”
I looked up at her, smiling.
“There, that should do it. But you might have trouble putting your shoe on.”
“If I don’t tie the laces it should be OK….”
She stood up again, and remained standing.
“I’m suddenly aware that I’m almost completely naked.”
“Yes.”
“Does it bother you?”
“No. How could it? You’re totally beautiful…”
She seemed to consider this, and then said,
“Well other people might not see it that way, especially as I’m going to have to put that ripped dress back on without my bra. People will think I’ve been raped. And these things are going to make a pretty sight..”
She looked down at her breasts and cupped the two of them from underneath and lifted them. Then she brushed a blade of grass off one of them – it was such a natural action and I was hooked.
“You can wear my T-shirt over the dress if you like..”
“We’ll see, but for now let’s see what our situation is?”
“How do you mean?”
“How’s my bike?”
“Oh, that.”
It didn’t take more than a single glance to know that the bike wouldn’t be going anywhere soon – the front wheel was completely buckled and the front fork was also bent out of shape.
“Mmm, do you remember singing ‘Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head’ just before the crash?”
“No..”
“Well I think we’re going to have to do the modern version of the bike scene from that movie – I’m going to have to carry you sidesaddle…”
“Oh…”
We transferred all her stuff over to my bike and I sat astride it, ready to take her on board.
“Your transport awaits, Madam…”
“Oh, how do I..?”
She tried to mount the bicycle from the front, but I stopped her, turned her round, circled her with my arms and heaved her up onto the crossbar, my arms clasped together underneath her breasts.
“Wow, ooh, you’re so strong…”
She put both her hands onto the middle of the handlebar and I pushed us off, my nose taking in the scent of her hair as it blew back into my face. I took one hand off the handlebar and brushed her hair to one side so it wouldn’t obscure my vision.
“Oh, sorry, let me do that…”
She took one of her hands off the bar to hold her hair close to her neck. The bike wobbled slightly but righted itself. I didn’t return my hand to the handlebar, but, instead, wrapped it around mum’s stomach. I could feel her breathing as the air went in and out. She leaned back into me.
“Raindrops keep…”
“…falling on my head”
“and just like a….wassock?”
“like a guy whose…”
“Well you know the movie, I don’t…..”
“Well only from the TV, I didn’t see the original……”
And so it was that, half an hour or so later, we rode into a small village. I left the bike with my mum inside a bus shelter and strode up its only street to the general supermarket. It had small amounts of everything. I received a bit of an odd look from the middle-aged woman behind the counter as I bought the bra and a packet of panties and a blouse and skirt which I thought might fit mum, and also more cotton wool and bandages as an afterthought, but otherwise I returned to her without incident.
“Here you go, try these for size..”
“Well, not exactly my style but I’ll reward your bravery for buying them…”
I stood on the outside of the shelter to protect her from any prying eyes as she, first, pulled on the skirt under her dress. Then she lifted the skirt from the back and whipped off her panties and placed them in my hand. They were warm.
I’d bought her a box of three…
“Ruby red, virginal white or, mmm, sexy black, all of them ever so slightly transparent..?”
“You’ve seen me in white, so let’s go for the black?”
“Wise choice Madam. You have something planned for the evening?”
I wished I could have taken that back, but mum only laughed.
“Ha, if only…”
The bra was a different proposition. She had to take her dress off to put it on. She could have turned her back to me but she didn’t. Her breasts jiggled as she played with the straps and put her arms behind her to fasten it.
“Let me…”
And she did, She turned round and lifted her hair so it wouldn’t get caught, and I fastened the bra for her.
“Mmmm, Eddie, it’s a perfect fit. How did you know my size?”
“Oh, er, … now the blouse?”
I took the blouse out of the bag and silently put her arm through one of the sleeves, then the other, and then I fastened it for her at the front, the backs of my fingers resting against her bosom.
“There you are – a real schoolma’am ….”
“You need a good spanking.”
It was now getting fairly late. The accident had set us back quite a bit and I wasn’t really sure how we should make our way home from here since we’d deviated from our original route and, of course, I’d left our maps in a side pocket of mum’s bag on her old bike.
We could either become hysterically frantic or we could say ‘c’est la vie’. We chose the latter. We didn’t get back on the bike – or rather, I didn’t get back on the bike. We rolled along the main street of the village, with mum sitting on it and me pushing it along with one hand, while my other hand was holding onto mum’s on the handlebar.
There was a pub. A pub! The village pub. I stopped pushing.
“Mum, I’m sorry, look, let’s have a short rest and a drink and a meal here. It’s probably a bit late for a bus to anywhere, and anyway we’ve got to sort you out properly and get your injuries looked at. And then there’s your bike… and any bus that might come along probably won’t have room for my bike. So what do you say? ”
“I say that you’re in charge, love…”
‘love’..? It was a familiar friendly expression around our parts, but still, to hear her say it….
We parked the bike by the front entrance and went through into a large, wooden-panelled lounge, my mum leaning on me for support.
Behind the bar, a friendly barmaid’s face looked up and then clouded over as she saw my mum was having a few difficulties.
“You alright there, love? (I told you…) You need any help?”
“No, we’re fine thanks, just got our bikes tangled further back down the road but we’re OK.”
Having ascertained that there was no need for concern, she came over to our table to wipe it clean and ask us what we wanted to drink. I needed a good beer and mum asked for wine. What she really wanted, she said, was a triple Scotch, but had second thoughts about the effects of excess alcohol after her mishap. They also had a good menu, so we ordered a hearty meal.
“And do you do rooms? Is there a room for the night?”
There, I’d said it.
I glanced over to mum who had her eyes lowered, and then back at the beaming face of the barmaid who said it must be our lucky day because someone had just cancelled.
I then returned my gaze to mum who put her hand over mine and just smiled to the girl, “That’s really lovely, thanks.”
So we ate and we chatted and we drank. The pub started to fill up. I even recognised the cashier from the supermarket, probably dropping in for a tipple before returning to yet another night in front of the telly. She looked twice at me, and then at mum and then turned to whisper something to her mate who glanced over at us and laughed.
Then suddenly the barmaid had a spare moment for us and asked if we’d like to see the room. I accompanied her upstairs, since it would be an effort for mum, and I wanted to minimise any weight on her leg. Hey, it was cosy and like something out of a couple of centuries earlier, a huge high bed with a thick eiderdown, and a half-timbered ceiling. I looked under the bed for the chamberpot and the barmaid laughed.
“Contrary to first impressions, we do have all mod-cons, even wifi…! Will you need any help bringing your wife upstairs?”
She looked at me enquiringly, without a hint of malice.
“Oh, no…no…. it’s part of the marriage contract that I do all the heavy lifting…”
She laughed, gave me the key and wished us a very pleasant stay.
Back down in the bar, mum glanced over to me, one eyebrow raised.
“Well? comfy?”
“Yeah, very cosy indeed mum, er, I mean…oh, there’s just one thing – I can’t call you ‘mum’ anymore…”
“Oh, why’s that?”
“Umm, ’cause apparently we’re married..?”
“Me? To you? Us?”
I nodded.
She looked into space for a moment, one of those dramatic moments where it could have gone either way, then turned to me, reached over and placed her hand in mine. Her face was deadly serious.
“Do you promise to love, honour and obey, in sickness…?”
“I think I’ve shown you I can do the sickness bit…”
“True. What about the other bits?”
“Look, we’re only just married…” a smile. “Let me get used to it first…”
“Alright then, let’s have a look at the marital suite then, shall we?”
She placed both hands on the table and levered herself upright. The barmaid smiled at us as we hobbled out of the lounge and into the stairwell. I looked up. A lot of stairs. I took a deep breath and scooped mum up into my arms, her arm over my shoulder and her laceless shoe dangling off her foot. The first effort was not a success. The stairs were quite narrow.
“I think people were thinner in the Eighteenth Century.” She put both arms round my shoulders.
I let her down gently, then said, “Fine, in that case there’s nothing else for it.”
And with that, I bent down, grabbed her by the wrist, pulled her arm across my back and hoisted her over my shoulder, a fireman’s lift. She let out a shriek and then a laugh, or more of a cackle. Then she slapped me on the ass.
“Giddy-up…”
The door into the lounge was of ordinary glass, and as I started to carry her upstairs, the sound of muted laughter rose behind me. Did my ‘wife’ actually wave to her audience..?
Upstairs, I’d left the room unlocked, so I used my elbow to turn the handle, and then…
“Over the threshold…”
I whacked her one on the bum, staggered into the room and threw her onto the bed. She almost disappeared into the softness of it.
I threw myself down beside her.
We looked at one another and started laughing. Then…
“It’s been a strange day, unusual…” she whispered.
“The day’s not over yet…” I whispered back.
Why were we whispering? Because it was such an intimate moment, lying there, her nose almost touching mine…
“There’s more? They poisoned the wine..?”
Giggles… and as we laughed our noses touched. I rubbed my nose back and forth across hers a few times….
“Eskimo…”
“You cold?”
I heaved the eiderdown over us and we were enclosed in its cocoon…..
It was dark. I rubbed up to her nose again. Then my hand followed and my index finger traced the contour of her nose down towards her mouth, around her lips…then between her lips…and she was licking it while I was kissing her nose….then I added a couple more fingers and she was licking them too, taking them into her mouth… she had one hand under my T-shirt, fingers splayed circling my nipples…..then I replaced my fingers with my lips…and my tongue licked hers…and then each tongue was swirling around in the other’s mouth…my arms were around her, hers around me …we were trying to become one person…. we were blind using only our sense of touch….. a lot of fumbling ..some tearing…. A belt being yanked open…some buttons popping… a bra lifted up over those soft mountains… a skirt, down the legs, the unmistakable sound of a zip, a warm hand inside my pants ….then both her panties and my boxers were round our ankles…. We came up for air.
And dove back under again.
I cupped the cheeks of her bum wondering at its smoothness…my mouth and teeth and tongue on her shoulder her neck her breasts…her one hand up and down my back as far as my butt…the other one grasping my dick…then we were madly exploring this new landscape from all angles… our positions became inverted and I found my face up against her prickly mound.. my tongue delved into the slit just as a warm hot wet sensation engulfed me below as my member was drawn into the chasm of her mouth….she was swallowing me whole and squirming as my tongue sought out the most sensitive area of her cunt, my hand on her bum pressing the cheeks inward and outward… I made my tongue erect and pushed it in and out with increasing speed, just as she was doing to my dick….. she whimpered and shook…I tensed and felt the surge of my cum, oh so much cum, into her mouth …and still my tongue was going in and out of her like a jackhammer and my face became flooded with her juices….
Then we were suddenly gentle with one another, licking one another, exploring one another’s body with kisses and licks… on our bellies, on our bums, on our necks…and finally our mouths were kissing again, her juices mixing with my cum…..
I threw the eiderdown off the bed – I had to feast on this in all its splendour.
She lay there wantonly open to my eyes as I knelt between her legs, her arms raised as in surrender, her legs open, her eyes watching me. As I lowered my gaze to the parting of her legs, she slowly moved them further apart as though she was doing the splits in slow-motion. I looked back up into her face and she was staring at me intently. Then an almost imperceptible nod.
“And obey…..”
She reached up and took hold of my shaft, the very action producing an instant reaction, and guided it down towards her waiting cunt. It slipped in to the already lubricated hole so easily and glided right up to the hilt. And then I slowly withdrew almost to the tip, supporting myself on my hands, before plunging back in, watching her mouth open and her face register both shock and joy. Then her feet were locked behind me, her arms at my neck, pulling me down. We fucked like there was no tomorrow, our sweaty bodies sliding against each other. I didn’t know if her cries were from my actions or from her wounds – but neither of us could have stopped anyway. I lifted her up with her legs still round my waist and held her against the wall, pummelling her into it. She held my shoulders back and we both watched in ecstasy as my cock drove in and out of her, in and out and it was a blur as we came in unison. I held her tightly there against the wall, her legs still round me, kissing every inch of flesh I could reach with my mouth and tongue. Then I carried her back to the bed, with her wiping the sweat out of my eyes.
We lay on the bed, my head resting on her stomach, my fingers drawing lazy circles round her nipples, which reacted by standing proudly. I whispered,
“I’ve always thought you were one of the sexiest people on the planet.”
“What?”
Out loud,
“I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHT YOU WERE ONE OF THE SEXIEST PEOPLE ON THE PLANET.”
“I know.”
“You know? How can you know?”
Well, you remember that photo your dad took of me that time at Hayfield, where I’d fallen over? We’d both been looking at it…”
“Yessss…”
” well that night after you’d gone up to bed, I took it out again…”
“Yesss…?”
” And it had been misplaced – I’d put it back with the others from that trip, but when I came to look at it again, it was underneath a picture of your granddad wearing his war medals…”
“Oh..”
“I didn’t think too much of it, but then later I had to go and visit your Aunt Jessie who was ill and lived not far from the Uni. When I came from her place, I thought I’d surprise you and we’d go for a coffee in the refectory….”
“Aha…?”
“I asked one of the students where your dorm room was and he took me all the way there. He was very nice…”
“I’ll bet..”
“Anyway I knocked but you weren’t there. The room was open so I walked right in and I saw myself in this huge poster….”
“I..I…”
“I didn’t want to embarrass you so I turned round and left.”
“You’re angry…”
“Angry? Why on earth should I be angry? It’s not everyone gets to be a Poster Girl, haha…”
There was a light tap at the door. I quickly grabbed my boxers and stumbled as I drew them on. I took my T-shirt and threw it over my head. It was inside-out. Mum was giggling.
I opened the door a notch. It was the barmaid.
“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but we’re just closing up downstairs in the pub. Your bike is still out the front with a couple of bags attached. I thought you might need them? You can put the bike round the back if you want to…”
“Oh, yeah, thanks, I’ll see to it right away, thanks…”
Her smile was wider than before as she walked away.
I righted my clothes, pulled on my pants, gave mum a kiss on her left nipple and went down to retrieve the bags.
Most of the rest of the night was spent with me changing the dressings on mum’s injuries, for which she had some novel ways of rewarding me.
Then we were screwing again.
During one of our breaks, she turned to me and said,
“Eddie?”
“Mmm…?”
“You know you’re going to have to go back to that supermarket again and buy me some new clothes?”
She held up a torn blouse and skirt.
“The cashier should like that…”
“And Eddie..?”
“Mmm…?”
“You’re going to have to start calling me ‘Sue’….”
