One thing I admire about Becky more than any of her other characteristics is that she is a genuinely kind and gentle soul. She is friendly to everyone, not simply by showing empathy or being ‘politically correct’ (however, her stepmother Simone does not fall into that category and should be filed as a ‘work in progress’.) Becky and I had been dating for about three months at this point, and I was falling more deeply in love with her with each moment that passed. I practically lived in her room in her parents’ mansion in Forest Road, New Haven.
Officially, Hamish had suggested that I consider ‘moving a few things’ into the guest room, which was a misnomer, as there were five of them. The mansion had eight bedrooms in total, all of which were ensuite. The master for Hamish and Simone, Becky’s (and by association, mine also), and Carter's quarters were like a mini condo and were split over two levels, taking up the east-most wing of the house. That allowed him the freedom to entertain separately, should he choose to do so, Hamish had told me.
Of course, we both knew that moving a few things in was a euphemism, and he was trying to be discreet. As long as his baby was happy, I was always welcome, and he cared not where I lay my head. Hamish and I understood that, provided I didn’t hurt Becky physically or emotionally, he was okay with letting us govern ourselves as young adults under his roof.
Hamish believed that his freedom of exploration, expression and, to a certain extent, self-determination by his adoptive parents during his formative years were instrumental to his becoming a well-rounded and productive member of society. He was willing to extend that same privilege to Becky and, by proxy, me. For this and his liberal views on sex and sexuality, I will be eternally grateful.
Since the tumult of our first week together, Becky’s father and I had become much closer. It was nice to have an uncle to talk with, someone who could tell me tales of the mischief he and my late father had gotten into growing up. In that respect, I suppose that he became my surrogate father. It just so happened that he was my father’s identical twin; that did take some getting used to, I won’t lie. For the longest time, I had harboured such hatred toward my father, believing that he had abandoned my mother and me to fend for ourselves.
Of course, I would later discover this was not the case. It was, in fact, my mother who had kept him out of my life, in her way protecting me from any potential emotional trauma, I guess. The only knowledge I had of my father was what he looked like and the fact that my mother and I struggled at every turn while I was growing up. I hadn’t talked with my mother about my father at any length. I didn’t want to upset her, so I formed my opinions about him based on what little I knew. Views that were mainly inaccurate or just outright wrong, I would later learn. Hamish had put me right on so many things, and I had a deep respect for him.
When Mom had arranged to visit me in the dorms for Thanksgiving, I readily agreed. I had discussed everything with Becky and Hamish, and he and Becky insisted that Mom stay in the guest room with us. I was looking forward to finally clearing the air about my father and discussing things with her as an adult now that I had all the relevant facts about him.
Becky and I were waiting in the arrival terminal of Tweed New Haven Regional Airport, and I felt more nervous as we watched the board announce flights coming and going.
“What’s the matter, Oli?” Becky asked me, giving my hand a little squeeze.
“I’m not sure how I will tell Mom I’m not living in halls. And that I am sleeping with the adopted daughter of her ex-brother-in-law, who, in turn, it seems, has quasi-adopted his long-lost nephew...” It sounded so much more convoluted when I said it out loud. I shook my head slightly, not knowing what to do for the best.
“It will all be fine. You’ll see.” Another squeeze of my hand coincided with one of Becky’s cheeky little winks that always seemed to soothe my nerves.
The flight information board clattered around and informed us that Mom’s flight had landed and was about to disembark. We walked through the terminal, quickly found the Arrivals area for Mom’s flight, and waited. Before too long, I saw Mom through the people making their way through the terminal. Mom was easily six inches taller than most of those around her, with a shock of shoulder-length platinum blonde hair that was completely natural; I pointed her out to Becky.
“Oh, she’s so pretty,” Becky exclaimed happily before realising something.
“And… tall?” she questioned, a little redundantly.
I caught the observation and questioning tone in her voice. As I said before, I considered myself average in every respect, except for the undeniably gorgeous redhead on my arm, who I still couldn’t believe was so into me. I was very much in love with her, and that love deepened with each passing day.
“Yeah, Becky, you can say it.” I joked, feigning a wounded pride. “I got the shitty end of the stick in the genetics lottery. Quasimodo’s looks and height, or lack thereof.” I grinned wryly.
I had always envied my mother’s height. A native of Savannah, Georgia, well into her late teenage years before moving to Idaho and college, she had never lost her country roots or Southern accent. She certainly hadn’t lost her sense of being forthright and sense of humour.
I realised I’d forgotten to tell Becky about Mom being a hugger and a little larger than life. In her opinion, and quite deservedly so, in her own words, ‘Life tested me, and I won… So, I’ll damned well be who I am ‘till the day I die.’
I love my Mom dearly, but she was so… so… damned enthusiastic about everything and loud to go with it. I reached towards my mother, arms outstretched and hugged her tightly. I had missed her since leaving home for Yale, but I wouldn’t change a single thing, given the life I was now living.
“Now, don’t y’all get too close, Oli! I've been on that airplane for three hours with busted air conditioning, and I declare, that I am ripe! Phee-ewe!”
I both grinned and grimaced at the same time. I was so happy to see her, but her first interaction with me, witnessed by Becky, was her discussing the state of her pungent body odour. As it happened, all I could smell was her light perfume, a scent that she hadn’t changed for as long as I could remember. It smelled safe. It smelled like home.
“It’s so good to see you again, Mom. I’ve missed you!” I broke the embrace, stepped back a little, and offered my hand to Becky so she could come closer.
“Mom, I’d like you to meet an extraordinary someone. This is Rebecca Smythe-Johnson.” I turned slightly and gently tugged on Becky's hand to pull her forward in front of me.
“Becky. Please allow me to introduce my younger-than-ever-looking mother, Hannah Johnson.” I let the two women size each other up; in that way, women do, looking each other up and down for a split second before Mom broke the brief silence.
“Oh, hush now, you’re making me blush!” Mom playfully slapped me on the shoulder. I grinned, enjoying seeing her squirm a little. To my surprise, Mom was a little flushed in the cheeks.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs Johnson.” Becky hugged Mom for a three count and moved to pull away slightly. Mom, however, had other ideas and held onto both of Becky’s hands and regarded her.
“Well now, ain’t you a beauty? Purty as a Georgia peach!” my mother cooed, clearly impressed by my ability to snag a woman like Becky. Now, it was Becky’s turn to blush slightly.
“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson, you’re very kind.” Becky accepted the compliment with humility and grace.
“Come on, Mom. We’ve plenty of time to catch up in the car on the way home.”
I grabbed Mom’s carry-on bag and her suitcase on wheels, and we started towards the exit. Almost immediately, Mom was grilling Becky for information on me. ‘Was I eating right?’ and ‘Was I drinking enough?’ The usual fare for a mother still struggling to cut that last apron string. Deep down, I was glad that she loved me enough to ask. The world was filled with plenty of parents who didn’t want the children they had carelessly brought into it.
We exited the terminal and stood on the kerbside. Carter had ferried Becky and me to the airport in Hamish’s Mercedes-Maybach S-Class and parked it in short-term parking while he waited for us to appear. He expertly allowed the luxury gunmetal grey sedan to glide to a stop so the back doors were perfectly aligned to allow entry for his passengers.
The sumptuous cream leather seats were possibly the softest I’d ever sat on. They just moulded to your shape and held you in place. Carter got out, in full valet mode and introduced himself to Mom as he opened the door for her. My mother shot me a quizzical glance, as I had not mentioned anything about my situation in our brief conversation when she informed me she was coming to stay.
“Nice Uber,” Mom said appreciatively. I saw Carter grimace out of the corner of my eye, and I thought I heard Becky give the slightest of giggles, but I wouldn’t swear an oath to that.
“Get in, Mom. You’re going to love this,” was all I needed to say.
~~~~~~{}~~~~~~
The ride back to the house took us straight past my dorm building. A building that my mother had clearly remembered when she asked why we weren’t stopping there. Becky and I looked at each other and smiled broadly at each other.
“We’ve got a surprise. We’ve made erm… ‘alternative’ arrangements for your accommodation,” Becky said, seeing the confused look flash across my mother’s face. Becky immediately reached over and placed a comforting hand on her knee. “Please don’t worry. I am certain that you will approve,” she reassured my Mom.
“What are you all plannin’?” my mother asked. Although she was not the biggest fan of surprises, she was gracious enough to play along for the time being.
“It’s a surprise, as I said,” Becky commented, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
I gazed into Becky’s eyes, wondering how deep my love for her could get. I hadn’t realised it was possible to feel this… connected to another person, yet every day, I fell further in love with Becky. It wasn’t just the sex for me (which was sensational!). This was the first time I truly fell in love and wanted more - the thought of where that journey would take filled me with excitement. I glanced out the window and noticed we were about to take the last turn of the journey onto our street.
“And we’re here,” I commented.
The car was pulling up in the driveway in front of the house - a drive that could easily accommodate ten cars or fifteen with careful planning. I chuckled as Mom looked out the window at the imposing façade of Hamish’s home. Her mouth was agape.
“Welcome home, Mom,” I said gleefully, searching her face for emotions, good or bad.
“Y’all live here?” Mom looked at Becky and then at me while simultaneously pointing at the house, trying to figure out what was happening.
“Now, you wait just a darned minute. You got this fancy ride, fancy valet, and now this fancy house, too? Did y’all rob a bank or something?” Mom stood, still pointing at the house, her mouth hanging open.
Becky and I chuckled a little, and Becky spoke first.
“No, Mrs. Johnson. This really is my… sorry, our home,” Becky reassured my mother. The look on my mother’s face will stay with me forever. Her wide eyes and jaw were on the floor.
“Y’all are puttin’ me on! And honey, would you please stop callin’ me, Mrs Johnson? You’re making me feel old,” Mom said, her accent getting more pronounced the more sceptical she became. It was quite sweet.
Becky glanced at me worriedly, afraid that her respectful tone and words had offended my mother. I knew what was coming next, so I shook my head slightly and smiled.
“Y’all need to call me Helena, like everybody else does!” Mom said, smiling broadly at Becky.
Carter chose that moment to open the passenger door for the ladies and assist them in getting out of the car. I hopped from the other side and popped the trunk, retrieving Mom’s bags. I closed the trunk lid and joined the rest of the party. Carter had gone ahead to open the heavy wooden doors for easy entry. Becky went in first, followed by Mom, and I brought up the rear.
“May I offer you some refreshments, ma’am?” Carter asked politely. The question was aimed at my mother, as Becky and I had eaten just before we left to collect Mom from the airport.
“Y’all really ain’t puttin’ me on, are ya?” Mom said to both Becky and me. Once again, Becky stifled a small giggle and replied gently.
“No, Helena, we’re not. This really is our home. My father holds the Chris Argyris, Professor of Psychology Chair, the position is here at Yale. I have a feeling you’ll get along famously with him,” Becky glanced at me and winked.
I knew what she was thinking. We were both nervous about how my mother would react when she discovered that Becky’s father was her ex-brother-in-law. I realised I was still holding Mom’s luggage, so I gently placed it on the foyer's marble floor.
“Well, that sure sounds fancy! And yes, I could eat a horse - what y’all got goin’?” my mother asked, to the point and without nonsense, as always.
“What would you like, Mom? Carter is a master in the kitchen.” I was trying to make mom feel as comfortable as I could. It had taken me a couple of weeks to acclimate to this opulent style of living.
“I’ll have something quick and simple. Y’all ok with making an omelette? And I would kill for an iced tea,” she said to Carter.
It was at that moment that I saw the look on her face. I recognised it. It was the same look that Becky had on her face the first night we slept together. A look of hope of what may become, and with not just a little lust lurking behind her eyes. I suppressed a slight shudder. I didn’t want to think about my mother in that manner. It properly gave me the ick.
“Mom, I’ll take you to your guest room; perhaps you want to spruce yourself up before eating?” I suggested as she’d made such a fuss of being overheated on the flight here.
I again picked up her luggage and led her up the winding staircase to the upper level and to the guest room Carter had prepared for her that afternoon. Fresh towels and a fluffy white bathrobe sat on the dresser.
“Y’all are puttin’ me on, right? All this room fer ‘lil ol’ me?” Mom stood just inside the threshold of the room, taking in her surroundings while I placed her luggage on the bed for her to unpack at her leisure.
“So, what’s the deal with that valet guy, Carter?” Mom asked, feigning innocence but with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“He’s been the family’s valet for about twenty-five years, Mom,” I clarified before continuing.
“He does everything in the house, cooking, cleaning, maintenance and gardening, all sorts of things.” I took a breath to continue.
“Becky’s father is due to be away until tomorrow evening, and her stepmother is mercifully on a retreat somewhere in Canada, so we’ve got the place to ourselves until they return,” I finished speaking, bringing Mom up to date.
“Hmmm. That’s good to know,” I could tell Mom was somewhere else in her head… and I dreaded thinking where that somewhere may be.
“Do y’all think he might be interested in your old mamma, Oli?” she asked innocently.
‘And there goes the other shoe.’ I thought to myself.
“It’s just that I haven’t been with a man since your Daddy and a woman has… needs!” On reflection, I think (and hope) that Mom forgot that she was talking out loud… to her son. The look of horror on her face spoke volumes as she realised she’d said her thoughts out loud.
“Oh, my Lordy! Oli, I am truly sorry from the bottom of my heart! I don’t want my baby boy hearin’ his momma talk so. It ain’t decent for a Christ-fearin’ woman to talk so!” Mom didn’t know where to look, as evidenced by the deep crimson shade that now adorned her cheeks.
I was trying hard to suppress a belly laugh.
“Don’t worry. I think I’ll live, Mom.” I tried to be sensitive to her embarrassment, but the poorly hidden chuckles in my voice betrayed my true emotions.
“Carter will have finished cooking your food by now, Mom. Let’s go downstairs.” I didn't particularly appreciate wasting food that Carter had taken the time to prepare. Besides, he was a good cook, and I needed an excuse to get out of the moment's awkwardness.
“My Lord, y’all are right! Lead the way, Oli,” Mom commanded imperiously.
Social faux pas were immediately forgotten. I sensed from her that she might settle into a life of luxury even more quickly than I had.
~~~~~~{}~~~~~~
I led Mom down to the kitchen just as Carter was putting the finishing touches on a Spanish Omelette with some fresh veggies and French Fries. I showed her to the table and pulled out a chair for her. As she sat, Carter presented the plate of food, and Mom's eyes widened.
“Y’all sure this ain’t a prank?” Mom said with mock suspicion.
Becky chuckled and assured her that everything was still above board.
“Carter, would you like to set and chat a spell with me?” Mom said, hinting that the “young’uns” should leave the room. Before Carter could respond, Becky suddenly picked up on Mom’s meaning and exclaimed suddenly.
“Oli, could you give me a hand upstairs, please? I need to move that furniture we talked about,” Becky winked at me and jerked her head slightly over her shoulder as she said it, but I had already divined the purpose of Mom’s statement, given our earlier… chat.
As far as we knew, Carter had devoted his life to this family and had no one to call his own. It would do the old boy good to have some fun for a change. Then I remembered that it was the force of nature known as ‘Mom’ that he was contending with, and I said a silent prayer for him.
I followed Becky upstairs and into our room. Closing the door, I spun Becky around and embraced her passionately. Our lips met, and immediately, our tongues were exploring each other. I raised my left hand and cupped Becky’s right breast firmly, massaging it beneath her sweater.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her responsive nipples poked up happily as if in greeting. With this knowledge, my cock started to twitch, and I suspect that Becky knew what was coming next.
I motioned for her to turn around and walk to the bed. I stopped her just short and helped her out of her clothes. In short order, Becky was bent over before me, naked save for her signature pair of black fishnet stockings. I squatted to allow better access to her delights, and immediately, my tongue found just how wet she’d become. I reached around her thigh so my finger could play with her clit while my tongue administered pleasure to her soaking-wet sex and puckered anus.
“Oooh yeah, Oli. That’s it.” Becky moaned as I continued to pleasure her.
Occasionally, my tongue would wander up the length of her taint and circle her ass. Just as it had that first night, Becky would go rigid for a moment before gasping in abject pleasure and relaxing once again. I serviced her labia with my tongue and would also occasionally suck one or both into my mouth and suckle on them. This action often had a fascinating effect on Becky, and she had her first orgasm of the evening for me. Thick white cream dripped from her pussy.
“Fuck baby, you’re making me so hot. I love it when you fuck my ass with your tongue!” Becky breathed wantonly.
I helped her climb onto the bed and lay her face down. Becky automatically opened her legs to allow me access so I could continue to pleasure her with my fingers. With my right hand, the middle three fingers were rhythmically gliding in and out of her pussy slowly. After a few minutes, I swapped to my left hand, which was my dominant hand and provided the same service. With my right hand, I worked some of her wetness into her ass hole and teased the sphincter with my index finger before gently pushing past the tight ring of muscle and then pushing against my fingers in her pussy.
My fingers unified in a steady rhythm that soon had Becky pleading with me to give her release. I was fascinated by her ass. I fantasised about how my cock would feel being in the soft flesh of her ass. I knew it felt fucking sensational on my fingers; how good would it feel on my cock? I couldn’t help but be curious. Lustful thoughts of naughty anal play danced in my mind.
We’d not worked up to full anal penetration yet, she was worried I might damage her, and I had no desire to rush any aspect of our lives together. We had, however, been using butt plugs and lubes of all manner and various stretching techniques that would facilitate the process when Becky felt that the time was right.
“Please, baby, make me cum for you. I know you love it when I squirt!” The tone in her voice did nothing to hide the fact that she was so close to a massive orgasm.
Becky didn’t squirt often; on the occasions that she did, it was usually because both holes were in use, and she was horny as all hell.
“Not yet, baby,” I said in reply. Since we started dating, Becky has increased my exposure to edging. I was comfortable going for an hour or two before the denial of release was too painful to contain any longer.
“I want you to enjoy everything.” I grabbed her hips and pulled her up into a kneeling position.
My cock was hard and needed relief from the ache it was feeling. I reached down and held the head of my cock against the entrance to her sex. I rubbed the head over her lips, gathering up some moisture. Not that I needed much; I was a veritable fountain of pre-cum myself.
“Oooh baby, it feels SOOO good.” Becky moaned loudly. “I need you to fuck me, Oli. Fill my cunt with your delicious cock!” she begged me.
I continued to rub the head of my cock over her pussy, making her writhe with pleasure. Gently, I pushed just the head of my cock into her and heard her now familiar sharp intake and then holding of breath. Even after all this time, my girth still made Becky wince slightly. I withdrew at the sound of her breath catching as I entered her and rubbed my cock up and down on her pussy some more, and tried once again.
This time, there was no breath-holding, just a long, satisfied moan as I slowly slid into her, balls deep in one drawn-out, smooth action. The feeling was as electrifying as the first time my cock had nestled inside her pussy in the summer house. For some reason, I always imagined I could smell pine each time my cock pierced her pretty pink pussy.
Becky’s pussy muscles clamped onto my cock almost instantly as I felt the tell-tale shuddering and low moan coming from her. Unbeknownst to me, the little minx had been strumming her clit while I had been slowly drilling her hungry pussy.
‘So much for edging today.’ I thought, secretly happy that she was getting the pleasure from me I so wanted her to have. Over the last few months, I’ve found that I am more pleased to service Becky while not expecting anything in reciprocation. Her pleasure and, ultimately, her orgasms were their own reward for me.
I picked up my pace, thrusting into her with more urgency, and before too long, I was close to cumming myself. Somehow, Becky always knew when I was close to the edge, and she seemed to be able to clamp herself just that little bit tighter in preparation to milk my cock for all it was capable of depositing.
“That’s it, baby, fuck my tight little pussy. I know you love it.” Becky panted through laboured breathing.
I needed no encouragement, as the mere sight of Becky on all fours was typically enough to get me close to climax. One thing about Becky that still intrigued me was that she was so eloquent in the company of others and just talking in general. Yet, in the bedroom, she had a mouth that would make many sailors blush. I had to admit, it was one of my favourite things about her, next to her figure, breasts, lips… well, everything.
“Becky, I’m gonna cum for you baby. You ready?” I was panting slightly; my rhythm had increased tempo significantly. I quietly sucked on my thumb before gently sliding it into her ass.
“Oooh,” she screamed out loudly as my thumb stretched her ass and increased the pressure of my cock in her cunt. “Oli. Cum for me. Cum in my pussy. Fuck me, Oli.” Each phrase increased in pitch by an octave as she spoke.
That was it. Those words worked every time. It was like Aladdin rubbing the Genies’ bottle. The Genie always must appear. Streams of thick cum rocketed out into Becky’s warm and tight pussy, and she started to moan and buck. The sensation of me filling her with cum, coupled with the twitching and pulsing of my orgasm, had made Becky cum again.
At that precise moment, my dear mother entered our room unannounced without so much as a knock at the door.
I reacted immediately, grabbing a large throw from the bed, more for decoration than any practical function until now, that is. The fabric managed to cover Becky’s modesty but did nothing to hide the sensual shape of her perky, perfectly proportioned peach-shaped little ass, which was wiggling in the air quite merrily.
Thankfully, the throw was an enormous fleecy type one with a tiger motif, and I also managed to wrap a corner around my waist as I turned to face my mother.
“Jesus Christ, Mom! Don’t you ever knock?” As soon as I spoke, the harshness of my admonition had the desired impact.
Mom just stood there, mouth gaping. It took me a moment to realise that she wasn’t staring at me but rather my midriff. I suddenly became aware that I was still sporting a semi.
“Mom… please?” I begged her, looking down at my covered modesty to highlight the point I was trying to make. Mercifully, she took the hint and turned around before she spoke.
“Y’all, I am so sorry to embarrass you like this; Lord knows I didn’t mean to…” Mom paused, struggling to find the words she wanted to use. “I declare I don’t know where to put myself!” it was all I could do not to laugh out loud.
A muffled chuckle from under the throw, which I now realised had completely covered Becky, informed me that she found this as comedic as I did.
“It’s okay, Mom. Don’t worry!” I tried to reassure the beleaguered woman. “You OK back there, Becky?” I asked playfully.
“All good here, honey. I’m happy as a clam,” was Becky’s quick reply.
I grimaced, knowing precisely what she meant. From the look on my mother’s face, so did she.
“What can we do for you, Helena?” Becky asked politely from under her fleecy fortress, without shame or embarrassment.
“I’m awful embarrassed t’ ask, but Becky honey, do y’all have any… women’s things?” I watched Mom blanche as she asked the question before she finished the request with, “I forgot to put ‘em in my case when I was packin’!” Mom looked at the carpet and the ceiling, anywhere but at Becky and me. However, I did catch little furtive glances from the corner of her eyes as she looked about our room.
Ever since I can remember, Mom has referred to sanitary towels and tampons as ‘things’. I guess it was a generational idiosyncrasy - the curse of the menstrual cycle was still something of a taboo in the nineteen seventies and eighties.
“Sure thing, Helena. The top drawer of my vanity, on the right side,” Becky told Mom, pointing to the treasure she sought. As I said at the beginning, Becky is very kind.
Unbeknownst to me, while secreted in her little fleece den, Becky had grabbed her phone and sent Carter a 911 text for ‘women’s supplies’. My mother had no idea, nor did I, until Becky told me about her actions later that night. Mom quickly made her exit, gushing apologies all the way.
I lay on the bed and unwrapped Becky. By this time, she’d rolled over onto her back and had been using the throw as a cover to hide the fact that she was playing with her pussy while my mother was still in the room. Taking fingers full of our combined juices and lapping them up. I could see that cum was still oozing out of her, pooling around her ass hole. The sight made me somewhat aroused once again.
“Ready for round two?” I asked mischievously, rubbing my cock seductively. It was begging to be sucked hard again. I pulled the throw over us both and gained a delighted squeal from Becky as I tickled her ribs mercilessly.
~~~~~~{}~~~~~~
An hour or so later and fully satiated, at least for now, Becky and I returned to the kitchen area to find that Mom was still talking to Carter. As we walked through the door, they laughed heartily at a joke one or the other had shared. I don’t think I’d ever seen Carter so much as smile broadly, so this was a refreshing change in his character.
“Your mother is delightful!” Carter exclaimed. I think we may become fast friends,” he looked genuinely happy. I looked at Becky, and she looked at me, eyebrows raised.
“I also took care of the little, erm, request you made earlier, Miss,” he paused for breath. “I keep a supply of such items for just such an emergency,” Carter acknowledged that his clandestine mission had been accomplished.
Becky and I talked frequently about getting Carter into the world and dating. The house ran itself and didn’t need as much attention and care as he lavished on it. Whenever we had broached the subject with him, his stock answer was always, ‘I am happy to serve, Sir/Ma’am.’ So, seeing him… out of character and having a good time to boot was a real bonus.
“Hey, y’all!” my mother greeted us, waving at us to join them at the table. Becky and I had other plans; however, it was fast approaching Hallowe’en, and we had party preparations to make.
“Sorry, Helena, we can’t stop. Oli and I have many things to arrange for a little party that we’re throwing for some of our friends,” Becky said, as eloquently as always.
I still had trouble reconciling this beautifully spoken woman with the filthy talking banshee that of the bedroom. It seemed to be… so unlikely. Not that I was complaining in any fashion. The dirtier the talk, the hornier Becky was, and that suited me just fine.
We walked hand in hand to the drawing room, the scene of our first proper meeting. We sat there discussing strategies and plans and making notes on Becky’s tablet. I had decided to go as A Pilgrim and enlisted Carter’s assistance in procuring the perfect costume. It was no surprise to me now that Carter was a decent tailor, on top of his other many and varied skills… Before too long, the party was pretty much all planned, and the invitations were e-mailed to those friends we were inviting. I hadn’t noticed Becky’s face darken when she’d opened Outlook on her tablet.
“Becky, what did Carter mean about your “request”?” I asked.
Becky looked up at me quizzically, clearly flustered by something.
“Oh, right, that,” she said. “I asked Carter to pick up some ‘women's things’, as your mom called them. But you heard him; he keeps some handy for ‘emergencies’.” She used finger quotes about the word emergencies, to emphasise that it never really happens, and she was surprised he did so. She paused, and a far-away look came into her eye like she was trying to figure out how to tell me something she thought I might not like.
“By the way, I forgot to mention something to you, Oli!” Becky looked… worried.
“I had an e-mail from an old girlfriend last night. We used to be roomies at college but lost regular contact when I came home to New Haven and Yale,” she reached out and grabbed the can of soda that was sitting next to her iPad. While she took a long drink from the can, I turned to face her full-on, curiosity written on my face.
“There was something in the way you said ‘girlfriend’ then… Is there anything wrong, Becky?” I asked, concerned.
I watched Becky’s cheeks flush the delightful pink that I had grown to love so much when she was embarrassed or, more commonly, turned on. Usually, I could tell which was the cause, but this time was different. It didn’t match the horrid look of... I wanted to say guilt, veiling her beautiful countenance, but I never expected what was coming.
“Well, actually…” Becky started to twiddle and play with her hair absent-mindedly, something she usually only did when she was fatigued or wrestling with a dilemma. She looked down into her lap.
“You must promise never to speak of what I’m about to tell you to anyone! Got it?” she said pretty forcefully.
I thought, ‘So out of character for her, what could unease her so?’.
“Of course, Becky, you know you can trust me with anything,” I reassured her, placing a hand on the knee closest to me.
“Sophie and I met on our first day at college. We hit it off immediately. I thought she was exceedingly pretty.” Becky took a moment to compose her thoughts before continuing.
“She was blessed with long blonde hair, crystal blue eyes and a figure to die for. She’s about your height, too.” Becky's eyes looked distant as she got lost in her memories.
“As well as discovering we were sharing many classes together, we also found that we have similar tastes in music, movies, books... even boys, to an extent.” Something in the way she’d said ‘to an extent’ suggested there was far more to this than simple common interests. She continued speaking.
“We’d been rooming for three or four weeks when Sophie asked me if I’d ever considered kissing another girl.” Becky took another drink from her soda, lost in her reverie.
“I’d have been lying if I said no; after all, doesn’t everyone fantasise about something naughty like that when they are sixteen?” she asked of no one in particular. She took a deep, cleansing breath.
I nodded in agreement, unsure if she was even aware of my presence. I’d not thought about kissing other boys; that was for sure, the idea was abhorrent. But I wanted to be as supportive as I could. This was deeply personal and important to Becky.
“I confessed to Sophie that I had been curious but had never dared to do anything about it. A long pause ensued, and then Sophie asked me if I’d perhaps like to try finding out with her.” Becky now looked at me directly and not her lap, searching my face for a hint of what I may be feeling at her admission. Tears were welling in her beautiful green eyes; she continued telling me what had happened to her four years ago.
“I was hesitant when Sophie walked up to me slowly and gently took my face in her hands, bringing me towards her waiting lips for my first kiss with a girl,” I sat, enraptured with this tale.
I had no idea that Becky had even contemplated such a thing, let alone experimented. What’s more, I’d never seriously thought about two women together. The uncomfortable bulging in my jeans told me I should perhaps consider this. Thankfully, my burgeoning erection was being hidden by a throw cushion I was holding in my lap. I didn’t take my eyes off her as she continued.
“I was surprised at how soft her lips were. I’d kissed a few boys without wanting to make myself sound slutty. But this felt entirely… different. Far more, I don’t know… sensual, I guess?” she paused for a beat before continuing her monologue.
“I knew it was wrong, and perhaps that’s why the sensation was so utterly… naughty and delicious.” She tried to take another drink from her can but found it empty. Becky grabbed her phone and texted Carter, asking him to bring her a drink. Before she hit send, she asked if I would like anything.
“I’d love a coffee,” I responded. Becky busied her fingers on her iPhone for a moment, then continued.
“Anyway, I was not utterly horrified by the experience and leaned into the kiss. Sophie wrapped her arms around me and opened her mouth. That was my first French kiss,” Becky's voice was now barely above a whisper.
I sat stone-faced, desperately trying anything to quell the raging boner that was once again threatening the safety of the button fasteners on my Levi’s.
“We kissed like that for perhaps ten minutes before Sophie asked me if I’d like to lie on the bed with her,” Becky tried to dry swallow and failed. She continued speaking softly to me.
“I was nervous and terrified that we’d be discovered somehow, but it was only us in the dorm room, and we rarely had visitors, so eventually, I agreed.” Becky tried again to get some moisture into her parched mouth.
I shuffled around a little to regain some of my lost comfort. Alas, it was not to be. My raging erection persisted in its single most valiant effort to escape my trousers to date.
“When we reached the bed, Sophie took off her jumper and bra and asked me to do the same. I was a little uncomfortable with this, however. I’d always been teased about the size of my boobs growing up, especially in High School when they developed much faster than the other girls, but Sophie seemed to be fascinated with them,” Becky took a deep breath before continuing.
“I eventually agreed to her request, and for the first time, I let another person see my breasts in all their glory. Even in high school, I’d always hide them behind a towel.” I coughed a little, becoming increasingly uncomfortable in the pants.
I felt myself becoming overwhelmed with desire at the erotic picture being portrayed for me. Primary in my mind were Becky’s magnificent tits. Through natural conversation and a little detective work, I'd learned to clarify that she was an all-natural 38D, 38DD at certain times of the month. I wasn’t sure if I could contain myself for any length of time before ripping her clothes off when she had finished telling me her story.
“Sophie’s boobs are a lot smaller than mine, maybe a 34B, but we had very similarly coloured areola and nipples which were standing very proud with arousal on us both.” At the end of this sentence, Carter arrived with our drinks, set them down, and asked us to call him if we required anything else. He gave no sign if he’d heard anything of what Becky had just said, and he departed as quickly and quietly as he’d arrived.
Upon Carter's entry, Becky looked down into her lap and clammed up for obvious reasons. When she was sure he was out of earshot, she continued speaking but didn’t look up.
“Sophie reached out and softly cupped one of my boobs, massaging it gently and rubbing her thumb over my nipple. It felt different to when boys had groped me. Much more… tender, I suppose,” she observed to herself.
“The sensations running through me to my pussy were electric, and I suddenly became aware of just how turned on I was becoming, as evidenced by the increasing dampness between my legs,” Becky reached for her can and cracked it open with its customary pssst. She took a long drink, perhaps half of the can, in one go before carrying on.
“I followed Sophie’s lead, and we played with each other's tits for a while when Sophie stood up to take her jeans and panties off,” Becky gathered her memories of this moment before she carried on. All the while, my cock was aching for release, and a significant damp spot of my own was forming on the front of my jeans.
“She stood there in front of me for a second or two so I could take in her nakedness; I was surprised to see that she had the thickest bush I’d ever seen! All the girls I’d seen up to that point were either bald or trimmed, yet it was almost invisible, with her being a natural blonde,” another sip of Coke preceded her in the following sentence.
“I don’t think that it had ever been trimmed. I suppose she stood before me like this to gauge my reaction before laying back on the bed and continuing my seduction.” I coughed and shuffled once again. Not once had she lifted her head or made eye contact with me since Carter had come in, and she’d restarted telling me her story.
“Sophie took my hand and gently guided it down to her pussy, showing me how to play with another woman with my fingers. I found myself rapidly coming to relish the feelings I was experiencing in my cunt, despite every fibre of my being telling me what I was doing was wrong.” Becky bit her bottom lip at this recollection and squirmed her ass about on the sofa we occupied.
‘There’s that word again,’ I thought absently, realising that despite everything, this retelling of her first lesbian experience was lighting a fire in Becky, also.
“Sophie said that I’d caught on quickly and seemed to be a natural. I was enjoying it so much, to my embarrassment and shame. I hadn’t noticed the amount of time I’d been doing this and became aware of Sophie moaning loudly and rubbing her tits,” Becky paused. She seemed to be willing herself to carry on telling me her tale.
“Sophie’s orgasm surprised me with its intensity, and she gushed buckets with it.” I didn’t say anything; I just sat and listened. That’s what Becky needed most now: someone to listen and not judge. My cock, however, was the most angry it has ever been, and was pissed that it was being held captive.
“Realising that I had just made that happen to Sophie, the intensity of her climax seemed far greater than ones I had experienced by myself. I was overwhelmed with such lustful and powerful feelings that I, too, stood and stripped naked for her to see me,” Becky paused for air once again.
“As I lay back down, Sophie sat up, then rolled over me to part my legs. That was the moment that I nearly lost my lunch. I was so nervous, but I was also so damned curious to find out what would happen next, how it would feel.” I swear, I could hear the cotton in my jeans beginning to tear, straining to hold in my now very painful erection.
“Sophie placed her fingers on my labia and parted them slowly, commenting on how wet I’d become. With her free hand, she placed a finger between my lips and pushed in slightly to get her finger wet with my juice; then, she placed the finger in her mouth and sucked it slowly. She said I tasted delicious,” Becky chuckled slightly at the recollection.
“Sophie leaned forward and started to lick up and down my pussy. At the same time, she had now put two fingers inside of me and was finger fucking my pussy while licking my clit.” It was pretty painful, as I recall, as I felt my hymen pop.” Another long pause, as if gathering herself for the finale of this tale. Becky drained the rest of the can.
“That was the first time someone other than myself had made me cum. It was the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced until recently, that is. As soon as I’d cum and was trying to catch my breath, Sophie got up and got dressed, saying that ‘tomorrow it would be my turn to taste her, and then perhaps we’d try the shower.’” Finally, Becky raised her head and looked at me almost apologetically.
“We spent the next two years secretly fucking each other in so many different ways and places. I was still interested more in boys, which didn’t bother Sophie at all, as she said a few were quite cute. Occasionally, she’d bring a boy home that she got on with, but that was a rare occurrence.” Becky paused, thinking how to continue—biting her bottom lip like she does when turned on.
“All the boys were interested in at that age was notching up another mark on their bedposts; there was no seduction, no… romance and certainly no foreplay. They’d get pissed at me for not going all the way with them.” Becky looked wistful for a moment before continuing.
“Of course, there is the whole thing with Simone and the theft of every boyfriend I brought home. So, as much as I hate her for what she did with them and tried to do with you, it’s partly my fault, I guess, for not putting out all the way.” Big green eyes were looking at me, searching for any emotion.
“Hey! It’s not your fault that the boys you brought home were immature little horny toads that wanted a quick fuck, Becky,” I took a breath.
“You’re better than that, and you know it. I’m so proud that you stuck to your principles!” I encouraged her that she’d made the right choices in waiting until she was confident that she wanted to go all the way with someone.
“Now you’re all caught up, Oli. I have nothing left to hide from you. Now you know I’m bisexual. I’m so sorry, Oli. I meant to tell you sooner, but we’re such a perfect fit that I didn’t want to spoil it for us both. Can you forgive me? Can you get past this?” the look of hope on her beautiful face will be forever etched into my memory.
Her worried face was still searching mine for any sign of emotion. Her beautiful green eyes were now made even more sparkly than usual due to the large well of tears once again threatening to course down her lovely face. I had never found her more attractive, more… vulnerable than now. Soul laid out bare for me. She was terrified that I would react badly to the news. I was so glad of the cushion in my lap; it at least enabled me to move to a slightly more comfortable position without giving away my extreme state of arousal.
“Becky, thank you for trusting me with this. I know that was hard for you to tell me. But, baby, what makes you think admitting your past to me would make me not want to be with you? I chose you!” I had rationalised that everyone has skeletons in their closets; I, too, had some, although not quite as sensational as Becky’s was.
“You’ve nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of people have experimented and found out that they like both sexes. I’m cool with it, baby. Please don’t worry! At least now I know why you like watching porn with me so much!” I added, trying to make Becky feel better about the situation and be less worried. It worked, and she dropped her head slightly and chuckled.
“Oli, you’re too kind. I know that you have some extreme views on fidelity in relationships. I didn’t want you to find out in any other way before I talked with you.”
Finally, I got to the coffee that Carter had brought me. Delicious as ever, even if it was now lukewarm.
“Would you like another drink, babe?” I asked Becky. She nodded and was about to reach for her phone when I stood.
“It’s O.K. I’ll get them… besides, I’ve got something I need to get rid of,” I said, looking down at my crotch.
Now I had the answer to the question I had asked myself the first time Becky and I had made love in the summer house. Would I feel differently if it was two women instead of two men? The picture just painted by the love of my life had provided the answer, and it was most painfully, YES!
“OH MY GOD!” Becky’s gasp was both sincere and loud. She briefly clasped a hand to her mouth before following with, “Did I do that to you? Oh, Oli, I’m so sorry!” The large spot of pre-cum staining the front of my Levis stood in stark contrast to the drier stone-washed fabric about it. I’ve never seen Becky blush so much before.
“It’s fine, honey; it’s not a big deal. I won’t be long.” I kissed her gently on the forehead, trying to be tender and supportive. I guessed that she wasn’t in the mood to service my sudden and overwhelmingly desperate need to fuck her into oblivion, given how wracked with guilt she seemed. I started to make my way to the nearest bathroom to rid myself of my pain.
Something else was nagging at my brain about how she’d said, ‘I didn’t want you to find out in any other way before I had a chance to talk to you.’ It was almost sinister.
“Before I go, honey, what did you want to say about the e-mail you had?”
“Oh, right. Sorry! I completely forgot,” Becky replied, suddenly looking sheepish.
“Erm, Sophie will be here about lunchtime tomorrow, just in time to spend a few days with us before the party,” the penny dropped immediately. I knew what was going through her mind. Becky was worried that I would find out about her past in some enlightening conversation with Sophie or otherwise be caught in some passionate tryst with her former lesbian lover.
The colour drained from my face faster than my hard-on shrivelled in my pants. Fantasy in imagining two women together is one thing and was quite fun, it turns out. Taking it a stage further and watching two women make out in a steamy porno, which was so obviously scripted to cater to men, is another thing still. Would I be able to cope with the reality, I wondered? I suddenly wasn’t so sure. In any case, I no longer needed to… take care of business; I just needed new jeans.
