The babysitter came too.

 

 

“Abby has been fed; my cell number is by the phone if you need it. Don’t wait up for me Bobby.”

 

“I won’t Mrs Howard; have a nice time.”

 

Mrs Howard kissed his cheek, momentarily showing most of her breasts in a tight cleavage, his eyes dropped to them as he blushed from her peck. She turned in a cloud of perfume and chiffon to open the door and escape to her date for tonight.

 

Robert closed the door behind her, waving as she stepped into the waiting cab. Babysitting was a regular thing between him and Jean. Since her decree absolute had been granted, she had taken up some evening class or another in the local school; Robert sat for her every Friday trying to entertain her lively young daughter and keep her out of trouble. Abby, a vivacious twelve-year old, was no real trouble, they had even become friends in a kind of way; he was only four years older than she after all and could remember the antics he got upto, giving the sitter a hard time. Wasn’t that what they were for anyway?

 

He had seen Mrs Howard through the lowest times during the past few years. The divorce had not been amicable in the slightest. The fight over Abby had gone to court, as had the bitter war over finances. Mrs Howard, or Jean as she preferred, had hit bottom, often crying spontaneously; Robert had witnessed some of those despairing moments and, in his young inexperienced way, tried to be a friend, an ear for her to pour out her heart to.

 

The television was on when he came into the lounge. Abby had put a DVD in, Harry Potter, one of her favourites. She was curled up on a sofa, dressed in her nightie, ready for bed promptly at nine according to mummy, but somehow, was always extended for half an hour, sometimes even a little more.

 

“Do you want a drink?” Robert asked her and got a shake of the head by way of answer. He sat next to her to watch the film, probably for the third time.

 

Some way into it, a holistic dragon leaps almost from the screen; it always makes Abby jump, even though she knows the plot inside out. It is a ploy she had used on a few occasions now, knowing that, if she feigned fright, Bobby would put his arm around her to hold her body close to him; exactly the reason for the choice of film.

 

Predictably, he did just that, throwing a protective arm around her shoulder; he drew her closer to him. She nestled, feeling his warmth through his tee shirt and cuddled him around his stomach, her head resting against his torso.

 

It was no accident that her hand strayed to his groin. Abby wanted to feel his cock, even through his jeans; her imagination had her unzipping him so that she could grasp him in her small hand, his bulbous head, purple in colour, poking through her fist. He shifted a little, sitting up a bit so that her head lay in his lap. Robert had no idea what was on Abby’s mind until her fingers so carefully and deftly found the tab of his jeans. She had managed to pull his fly open without his knowledge until her fingers quested under the denim fabric. He almost shot up to a standing position, which would have thrown her full length onto the floor, but instead, she pushed herself up, using the hand still placed on his cock to lever herself into a kneeling position beside him.

 

“Can I see it Bobby?” Her saucer sized eyes looked directly into his with an expression that had almost always twisted her father around her finger before daddy left for good.

 

“No Abby, you can’t, it’s private.” She noticed he hadn’t lifted her hand away. She could feel his dick under the cloth of his underpants, her fingers closed around the girth of him, outlining his dick in cotton relief.

 

Half kneeling, she took no notice of his words, but full advantage of his momentary incapacity. In the time it took to blink, she had hooked a finger under the elasticated band of his shorts and pulled. His semi-hard cock was revealed. She grasped him, her fingers closing around him, only just meeting in a vice like ‘O’. He gasped and feebly tried to push her off of him, but the action only made her grasp tighter, concentrating all of his attention to where her hold on him was. He was in a precarious situation with his most delicate parts vulnerable in her grip.

 

She looked deep and directly into his eyes, he looked like a rabbit, caught in the glare of a pair of on-rushing headlamps.

 

“Abby…” He was gong to protest, but with the quickness of youth, she had ducked her head and planted a kiss on his cock head; the shock of what she had done, disabled his function of speech completely. Her lips parted, she took him in her mouth and suckled on him, using her tongue to trap his cock head against the ridged roof of her mouth. His traitorous cock sprang to life instantly, threatening to explode there and then.

 

Somehow, he managed to gather enough wits to gently lift Abby’s head so that her mouth was no longer likely to get flooded with his come. The memory of the warmth of her mouth lingered. Her hand still grasped him; he really was in desperate straights and clear thinking was something that eluded him at this precarious moment.

 

“Abby, this is wrong, you’re only twelve, and I’m a lot older.” Again, Abby ignored him, deigning not to answer, but instead, twisted around, straddled him and then sat down with a plop on his lap facing him. She had managed to keep hold of his cock, positioning him at the entrance of her down covered cunt until her downward momentum, forced his length into her body. Although she was tight, virginally tight, his cock wasn’t the first thing to have found its way into her little twat. Abby had had designs on Bobby for a while, since she became aware of the pleasure she could contrive from rubbing herself with a fingertip. Secretly, in the evenings after bedtime or in the shower, she had been practicing for this eventuality with her mother’s soft rubber dildo, fucking it into her, just as she had silently witnessed her mummy do in private moments when she was supposed to be in bed asleep. It had hurt at first, but the more she practiced, the easier it got. Her climaxes had hit a peak when she found the pleasures of her clit. Rubbing that hard little bead while ramming the bendy dildo into her twat; brought her off in no time flat and all the while, imagining Bobby’s cock pounding into her instead of a shocking pink coloured rubber dong.

 

She bounced up and down, using her knees either side of his slim waist. The feelings she received were confusing to her; the thrill of having successfully mounted the object of her desire was great, her body was responding in a much more aggressive and demanding way than when she had wormed the dildo into her, but his reaction was not what she had expected.

 

Instead of pounding into her as Uncle Keith had done to mummy many times, Bobby was just sitting still, dumbstruck and immobile. She stopped bouncing, sat down on him, successfully burying his shaft to the hilt and looked in earnest into his eyes. She couldn’t help tearing a little.

 

“Don’t you like me?” She asked, fearing the answer.

 

“Yes of course I like you; it isn’t that, just that, well, what we are doing here is totally wrong. I’m supposed to be looking after you, not making out.” He realised that his cock was still deep inside her; an involuntary twitch almost had him shooting his load. He was just as confused as Abby, at one level he was horrified at the position he was in, but at a more fundamental level, his cherry was being popped and it felt pretty damned good.

 

She burst into tears, her hands covering her face, wracking sobs caused her shoulders to bob, sending a tremor through her body to be transmitted straight to his dick still inside her and very much ready for unloading. He grasped her shoulders, as much to stop the feelings her movements were doing to his testicles, as to try and pacify the poor girl.

 

“Abby, I do like you; I like you a lot, but…”

 

“But, not enough...” She interrupted him. “…Not enough to want to screw me anyway.” A word she had heard her mother use on occasion while her uncle was ramming his cock into her. She went into another paroxysm of sobbing, the pressure was becoming too much for Bobby to bear; he was so close to coming that it was painful. Her words surprised him, even stung, because he did think an awful lot of this little girl. Her next words though, threw him into a complete panic.

 

“I’m telling.” She announced as she got off of his rock hard erection and cruelly slapped his dick with an open hand. Two things happened in very quick succession; Robert jumped up from the sofa as if his tail was on fire, pain galvanized him unto action and Abby ran, screaming blue murder, from the room, heading for the sanctuary of her bedroom.

 

It took him a few minutes to calm down sufficiently and get his throbbing cock back where it belonged, in the safety of his jeans, to be able to follow her. He was very worried now, not sure if Abby would in fact, tell her mother, but fearing she might say something on the lines of ‘Bobby touched me’ and the whole heap of pain that that would bring on. He knocked softly at her door hearing her sobs muffled. She didn’t answer so he knocked a little harder, using his knuckles.

 

He heard her answering, “What?” distortedly through the panelled door.

 

“Can I come in?” She didn’t answer. “Abby, can I come in please?” She still didn’t answer him so he tried the handle, it was not locked, the door swung open.

 

She had thrown herself on top of the bed, burying her head in a pink covered pillow. Her nightdress had ridden up to reveal her narrow buttocks, stark white in contrast to her sun-tanned legs. Robert tried not to look, but her position meant that this was the first thing his eyes landed on and, even in the position he was in now, male hormones are not interested in moral dilemmas.

 

He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her nightdress down so that the distraction of her smooth skin didn’t sway him off track. He needed to know what she would say, if anything, to her mother and, if he could, dissuade her from telling. He stroked her hair in a soothing touch. She had stopped crying, just sniffed into her pillow, staying flat on her stomach.

 

“Abby, we have to talk.” She made no move to indicate that she was listening to him.

 

“Abby, I think you are lovely, I mean, you are a fantastic girl, pretty, attractive and all that, but…” She spun up from the pillow into a kneeling position next to him so fast that he didn’t finish what he was going to say.

 

“You think I’m Lovely?” She cocked her head and looked at him askance from underneath her eyelashes. “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

 

“Yes Abby, I think you are very pretty.” He wasn’t sure where this was going, but it was better than her crying.

 

She fluttered her eyes and asked, “Do you think I’m beautiful? Daddy called me his princess. I miss my Daddy.” The floodgates opened again as soon as the words left her lips, he held her while her slim shoulders shook as wracking sob after sob tore through her. He was at something of a loss as to what to do, so he did nothing other than hold her and stroke her hair. Gradually, she calmed again.

 

As with the wind and it’s fickle intention, her direction changed. “I’ve watched mummy and Uncle Keith; I know what to do you know and I’ve been practising; wanna see?” Without waiting for his answer, she spun from his side and jumped off the bed. He caught a glimpse of her hairless fanny momentarily. She ran from the room and was back in less than a few seconds. In her hand was a shocking pink dildo, obviously filched from her mother’s bedroom.

 

She dived, head first onto the bed and had her nightdress pulled up in less time than it takes to blink. Before Robert had time to react, she had flipped over onto her back, legs spread impossibly wide and the end of the shocking pink coloured dildo, disappearing into her tight little hairless twat.

 

Transfixed, he watched as she forced the thick rubber dong into her self and then began to fuck it into her body, using a good five or six inches of the foot long monster. She gripped it with one hand and rubbed her little clit with the fingertips of the other. At one and the same time, he thought that what he was seeing was the most troublesome, but the most erotic thing he had every witnessed. Pretty shortly, her back was arching as the dildo was getting rammed into her in a blur of motion, fingers furiously twiddled her pronounced clit until she cried out, collapsing in a quivering heap, the glistening dildo still inside her; fingers still as she calmed from her climax.

 

“See.” She said breathlessly, “I have been practising and guess who I think about while I’m doing it?”

 

She sat up, bending the dildo almost double where it was half in and half out. A stray thought passed through his mind, that that had to be uncomfortable, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her nightdress was pulled over her head while she sat on the dildo, facing him.

 

Fascinated and worried at the same time, Robert stared at her underdeveloped breasts; only in the first flush of budding. She traced his eye line.

 

“They will grow; I hope they aren’t too big when I’m grown up.” She, matter of factly announced, as if the scenario they were currently in were an every day occurrence.

 

She leant forward, bending the dildo even more, and kissed Robert’s lips; smiling as she did so. Automatically, his arms went around her slim frame, pulling her into him.

 

“Hang on.” She unfolded her legs and pulled the dildo from her body. He couldn’t miss the wetness of it. She laid it on top of the duvet then, turned back to Robert, grasping his hand and placing it on her reddened cunt lips. He made to pull his hand away, but she covered his fingers and forced one into her.

 

“Oh Bobby; how I have dreamed of this.”  She was still kneeling, facing him, her arms now around his neck. She drew him to her and kissed his mouth, pushing her small tongue between his lips. Her body felt hot to his touch, smooth, but the heat from her little twat, now resting in the palm of his hand while a finger explored her insides, was radiating out like a small furnace.

 

“Put the dildo in please?” She whispered into his ear; “Fuck me with it.”

 

As if having no will of his own, Robert reached out and caught hold of the dildo; it felt huge in his hand. She knelt up allowing him to pass it around the back of her, into his otherwise occupied hand to enter her from under. She sat down on it, back into an upright kneeling position. Still clasping his neck, she started riding the dildo while he held it upright. Her breath rattled in his ear as the effort told on her. Suddenly, his hand holding the pink monster was covered in girl jizz as her cum flooded around its girth. Shakily, she stood up on rubbery knees leaving his slick covered hand holding the dildo behind.

 

In his sitting position, her hairless little twat with its perfect fold was at eye level. He could smell her sex; the aroma of her juices invaded his nose. He dropped the dildo and pushed his hand between her legs until a lone finger entered her sex. He frigged her slowly, hooking his finger so that her little clit was pushed out and forward. He pulled her towards his face and licked her as his finger worked inside. She grasped his hair at the back of his head, pushing him into her cunt.

 

Again, she flooded; her juices ran down his hand and wrist. She gasped as if short of breath.

 

“Your turn!” She said as her legs buckled under her. She pulled at his zipper and yanked his jeans down with his help. His cock, although still sheathed in his boxer shorts, was prominent in its hardness. His jeans hit the floor, discarded, and then his shorts joined them along with his shirt.

 

She pushed him back gently and sat astride his body. The heat from her sex was like a small furnace on his stomach. Abby ran her hands over his chest as if she was giving him a massage; tracing circles while her twat rubbed against his body. She knelt up and shuffled down and then grasped his twitching cock. He supported his head on a couple of pillows so that he could watch her; all thoughts of stopping this had gone with his clothes, he was completely taken up with the run of events.

 

Slowly, she bent her body to bring her mouth into position; her tongue flicked out, licking the very end of his throbbing dick; a thin string of pre-cum connected them between cock head and her bottom lip.

 

He saw her smile, a curl of her lips as she lowered her face once more to take him between her lips and into her hot little mouth. She sucked hard, drawing even more blood into his bell-end, then, released the pressure of vacuum to begin stroking his length with her hand while holding him in her mouth.

 

He couldn’t take very much more of what her mouth and hand was doing. “Abby, stop please, otherwise it will be over too quickly.”

 

She said nothing, but spun around so that her back faced him, then she shuffled back and sat on his face, her knees spread wide. He tasted her cum from earlier as his tongue darted into her slit. It was as if she had been electrified, as soon as his tongue found her hard little clit, she began to rock and rub herself on him in a rapid pelvic rock, his nose getting forced into her little twat while his tongue concentrated on her nub. Suddenly, she stiffened and then spurted her girl cream into his mouth and nose while she whimpered and whined in a high-pitched voice he didn’t recognise as hers.

 

Bonelessly, she collapsed on top of him to regain her senses. After a few minutes, the quivering lessened to something manageable. She climbed off of him, only to turn around and stand with her feet either side of his body. Abby transfixed his eyes with an intensity of her own eyes, then, once she had his full attention, she slowly began to bend her knees, lowering her self until she had his cock at the entrance of her cunt. She poised for an agonising second or two, then, continued her downward progression, sinking him into her until her whole weight was centred on his cock.

 

Robert grasped her slim buttocks and lifted her easily, only to let her down again. He fucked into her as carefully and gently as he could, but the pressure and need to come was becoming extremely urgent. Gradually he increased the pace, Abby helped, placing her palms on his chest and lifting in time with Robert.

 

He felt his balls clench, the pressure had built to a point where he could no longer hold on. His come shot from him, splashing over her insides, filling her young cunt with his seed. Pulse after pulse left him, he cried out in release; Abby cried out in the same release and the realisation of her dream. At last, Bobby had fucked her, filling her belly with his milk. It might have only lasted for a few minutes, but was no less delicious in its intensity.

 

Her hand passed under her. She hooked a couple of fingers, feeling his cock inside of her tight cunt. Then she pulled them back out, covered in his and her come. Mischievously, she licked her fingers one at a time while she smiled her gratitude.

 

After staying inside her until his dick softened, Robert got up from the bed to go to the toilet. By the time he had washed him self off and returned, Abby was curled up under the duvet, fast asleep. He dressed and made sure she was covered properly.

 

His next couple of hours were spent in front of the television. It played to its self while he thought about what had happened. He knew it was all wrong and he was in deep trouble, but Abby had had him at a disadvantage; if she cried rape to her mother, he would be sunk, possibly goaled, but whatever, in a whole heap of trouble. His thoughts were interrupted when Mrs Howard quietly opened the front door. She was back from her night out much earlier than expected.

 

Immediately, he knew that she had been crying; her make-up had run in black lines down her face, her clothes were dishevelled and a mess.

 

“Oh Bobby,” She broke down in floods of tears as the door clicked shut behind her. She ran across the hall and threw herself into his arms. She sobbed, deep-wracking sobs of utter desolation, soaking his shoulder as her tears collected in his tee shirt, staining it beyond redemption. He held her close, his arms around her slim waist, then stroking her hair to try to soothe her. Gradually, her sobbing subsided.

 

Somehow, and he didn’t really have a clear recollection of exactly how it happened; they were naked in her bed.

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Mrs Howard’s evening out had been a disaster. As so often happens when work colleagues go out, away from their normal environment, a different side of their personality often becomes prominent. David, who was fairly high in accounts, had turned from an essentially nice guy in his office persona, to a sexual predator when the shackles of office politics were removed.

 

Dinner had been okay. The Italian restaurant had been a little overpriced, but the food and service had made up for the cost. Initially, David had been the perfect companion, holding the door open for her and seating her at their table as a gentleman would. He had even consulted her on the choice of wine to accompany their food and chatted about general topics while they ate. But, afterwards, after the bill was paid and they had left the restaurant and walked for a while along the embankment of the city’s river, under the festoon lighting, his manner changed. As if a switch were turned on, his sexual predation swung into action.

 

They had sat on one of the many benches that lined the path and continued to chat about themselves, illuminated by the moon and the lighting. Suddenly, his words dried up, his mouth sought hers while his hands pulled at her clothing, mauling at her breasts and trying to part her knees. Did he expect that she would engage in a coupling here and now, in full view of the other couples that traversed the path? Was the man mad?

 

Her gentle refusal to allow his fumbling hands access to her body produced a violent reaction. Suddenly, his mood changed yet again, to anger, even to rage. He viciously hissed at her, reminding her that he had paid for dinner. Her retort, “Do you see that as payment for sex,” earned a sharp, backhanded slap to her face. He then, spun on his heel and left her there without looking back, miles from anywhere in the darkness of the park. He left her, almost running to be away from a failed encounter. Her revenge needed to be planned, but revenge she would have when she returned to her part-time job.

 

Eventually, she found her way out of the riverside park and hailed a cab. Robert, standing at the foot of the stairs, just inside her street door, was the first friendly face she had seen since, wordlessly, she had taken his hand and led him upstairs to her bed. She needed the comfort of a warm body next to her; she needed desperately to be held and soothed, but more, she needed to have a man inside of her to release the pent up fury, loneliness and frustration that threatened to overcome her completely. Her actions were unthinking, raw emotion commanded and demanded that she obtain a release, like any animal, living on nerves and instinct, Robert was the valve to allow her to vent her hurt and bruised self esteem.

 

She didn’t remove her make up, but left it smeared and streaked across her face, her clothes, usually carefully folded and put away, hit the floor in a desperate, untidy heap. Her panties and hose fell around her ankles just a second before she grabbed the bemused boy by his upper arm and pulled him to her on the bed.

 

She attacked him using her lips, mouth arms and legs. Her teeth nipped at his skin while she raked his flesh, leaving red welts in parallel lines over his chest. Then she had his cock in her mouth, sucking him with a wild abandon, her fist wrapped around his root, squeezing and coaxing him to erection. Frenetically, she forced him to the back of her throat until a gag reaction stopped her going any further, then, just as frenetically, she sucked him and fucked his hardening cock between her lips as if she couldn’t wait for him to give her his seed to swallow.

 

Robert didn’t quite know what to do. He lay on his back, smarting from the wheals she had raised on his chest, but also not knowing what was expected of him. At first, he lay stiff, with his arms beside him, knees straight while she abused his dick with her insistent mouth. His nerves and confusion about what was happening prevented him from really engaging in the act. But, then blood and nervous synapse took control of his responses, his knees came up, effectively parting his legs and giving her full access to his groin, his hands, as if of their own volition, ran through her auburn tresses, massaging her scalp and urging her on to take him to completion.

 

His earlier exploits meant that he was able to hold on to the moment of orgasm, but her wild ministrations were getting him rapidly to the point of shooting his load, his thighs clamped and thrust, while his buttocks squeezed together, forcing his hips up. She must have realised at some fundamental level, that he was getting close because she suddenly stopped sucking him and grasped his root firmly while she scooted up and sat astride him, guiding his throbbing phallus into her warm and wanting cunt.

 

She sunk down on him, burying his cock deep inside of her body. Then, she began a pelvic rock that rubbed her clit between his pubic bone and her own, creating a delicious friction that soon had her gasping.

 

Robert looked up at her, noticing that she had her eyes closed and her head thrown slightly back, exposing her throat with veins pronounced under the stretched skin. A brown mole between her tits that had been a beacon in his adolescent years drew his notice, which then, took in her swaying breasts. Her nipples, hard and effused, pointed at him, silently begging him to touch and fondle them. He obliged, taking both at the same time between thumb and forefinger and gently pulling on them. The effect was immediate, she stopped the pelvic rocking and started to fuck him properly, lifting and then plunging down to take him to her very soul inside of her.

 

The pace quickened, becoming more urgent as her climax approached. She supported herself with one hand braced on his chest; the other slid between her parted legs and viciously pulled and pinched at her clit, desperately bringing the onrush of climax.

 

Robert’s cock was rigid with blood, pulsing with need and getting ever closer to exploding inside the object of his young wet dreams. She was now getting very close as well, the combination of her fucking him, her fingers tormenting her most sensitive nub and his fingers pinching and pulling at her nipples, was taking her to that most special place of total orgasm, when the nerves jangle, bodies lose fluid in a violent reaction to the sensory overload and coherent thought is impossible.

 

Her teeth gritted in a primal grin, her breath escaping between parted lips and then she came, throwing her head back as wave over wave of pleasure overcame her. Her sweet orgasm flooded and soaking his groin as the last throws of her movement allowed her essence to escape around his cock. Sated, she sat astride him, feeling his twitching deep inside, nudging her womb entrance. Then, Robert involuntarily thrust upwards, driving him deeper still. His hot come spurted, then spurted again as his cock pulsed. She felt every throb as he emptied into her chamber and delighted as he emptied his spend.

 

She disengaged and climbed off of him to lie alongside his prone body and nestled against his cheek, whispering, “thank you.” Her head rested on his chest and in a few seconds was breathing deeply, asleep, contented and sated in his arms.

 

Unseen and silent, a figure moved away from the slightly open door to return to her bedroom, a secret smile playing over her mouth.

 

Robert waited until she had rolled away into a foetal position, her back to him, before he slid out of bed, found his clothes and quietly left the house to the sanctuary of his own bed, a few houses away.

 

The next morning, after he slept like a dead man, his mother roughly woke him telling him he had a call. Bleary eyed, he stumbled down the stairs and picked up the receiver off the wall.

 

“Hello.”

 

“Robert? It’s Mrs Howard, we need to talk, come over in an hour. Abby will be at school.” She hung up without waiting for an answer.

 

The time passed with him pacing the floor of his room. Had Abby told her mother what had happened? How much trouble was he in? He fretted and watched the clock as an hour trickled away at the pace of what seemed like minute long seconds.

 

He watched the school bus drive away from the vantage of his bedroom window, then, almost tore the back door off its hinges as he rushed out to confront her.

 

She was waiting for him, the door open and a look that that might strip wallpaper on her face. His heart sunk as his bottom lip began to be bitten in his habitual way when he was anxious. She stepped aside to let him in, then, closed the door with a click. Her house-coat swishing as she spun around to confront him.

 

Without preamble, she launched straight into what she had to say, not even taking him into the sitting room, but rather letting fly at the foot of the stairs in the hall.

 

“What happened yesterday was all wrong; totally wrong Robert.”

 

Robert hung his head and mumbled that he was sorry.

 

“What did you say?” She had her arms akimbo, staring him down.

 

“I said I’m sorry.” He kept his eyes down. “I know it shouldn’t have happened, I’m responsible and I am sorry.”

 

“What have you got to be sorry about you silly bugger?” Her manner was aggressive, borne out of a defensive position. She walked into the sitting room, not looking to see if he was following. “It’s me who should be saying sorry so keep quiet while I get this off my chest; Sit.” She pointed to the settee.

 

Robert was confused, he thought that she had found out about what he and Abby had been up to, but instead, she was making the all the wrong noises for someone who was about to chew him out for fucking her daughter and the expected fury that that would prompt. He slumped into the settee nervously; waiting for her to say whatever it was she had to say.

 

“What happened last night was a mistake Robert and cannot happen again. I took advantage of you and I am sorry.” She sat on the edge of an opposing settee, clasping her hands together between closely shut knees. Her eyes carried a forlorn message of hopelessness, “I was upset when I got back....” Her tone softened; “…and I needed… something; a hug… someone to hold… I don’t know, but what I did to you was unforgivable. You have been a real friend to Abby, and me; I trust you and betrayed that trust in a moment of weakness. Please forgive me?” She looked at him, imploring his understanding silently now that the first rush of words was out.

 

Robert remained quiet for a moment, trying to organise his thoughts and not say the first thing that came into his head. This was one of those rare moments when emotions and truth all come together, a moment when nerves are raw an open to the slightest dent or wound, a moment when the wrong word could ruin everything forever. He wanted to tell her how much he had dreamed of exactly what happened last night; he wanted to tell her that it had been the culmination of wishes, so long in the making. It was also a moment for soul bearing, but he thought to keep his experience with Abby a secret, knowing that Jean would not understand or accept it in any way.

 

“I wanted it to happen…” he began; “…I have wanted for us to be together for so long, ever since Mr Howard left. I have dreamed of a night like last night and it came true at last, so you have nothing to be sorry for. You needed a friend and I was able and more than willing to be that friend; I will be happy to keep on being that friend, for as long as you want me.” He looked at her, staring at the top of her bowed head, willing her to look up into his eyes so that she could see the truth of what he was saying and how much he really wanted it to be. Her shoulders gently shook, her silent crying became obvious to him after a few seconds; Robert thought his heart would break. Without thinking, he jumped up from the settee to sit beside her and threw his arm around her heaving shoulders. His selfless action opened the floodgates; she sobbed like a child, tears streaming down her cheeks unchecked; she buried her face in the crook of his neck as he gently rocked her and patted her back in a futile attempt to stem the flow of tears.

 

When, after a little while, her sobs lessened, he cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand, turning her to face him. He kissed her lips lightly, then, kissed her eyelids, tasting the salt of her tears. He wiped at her cheeks as she sat, still in the embrace of his arm as if she were the younger one of the two. Then, he kissed her again, feeling the warmth of her lips and the sweetness of her breath. For him, it was a moment of pure love, his heart aching at her obvious pain and wanting to take it all away if he could. Her lips parted in response to his kiss; what had been a chaste touch of lips, was now, becoming something else entirely.

 

She swivelled on the edge of the settee, knocking her knee against his and turned her body toward him. Her arms encircled his neck, drawing him into her, pulling him close so that her breasts squashed against his chest. He clasped her, feeling each breath as it was drawn into her lungs; her heart as it hammered against her ribs as if to break out. Her tongue snaked out, between his teeth in an exploratory search, he responded in kind, tasting the sugar of her morning coffee on her tongue.

 

“I have been so lonely.” She whispered into his mouth. “Take me to bed?”

 

Robert broke the embrace and kiss to stand up. He offered his hand, pulling her up when she took it. Silently, he led her up the staircase with its white balusters and stained handrail and then into her bedroom. The bed was unmade the sheets in an untidy mess, the duvet scrunched up to one side and the pillows bunched into crescent shapes where her head had been.

 

Wordlessly, he turned her around to face him guiding her by the shoulders, then, gently pushing her backwards so that she sat on the edge of the bed. He untied the ribbon bows of her housecoat one at a time, starting at the nearest to her throat and working downwards to reveal her lilac silky chemise underneath. He slipped the robe off of her shoulders and kissed each of them as she sat there immobile, her arms hanging at her sides. Then, he slipped the thin straps of the silky garment off of her shoulders; it was loose enough to pass over her breasts with a little help from him. They bounced slightly as the fabric passed over her nipples. She continued to sit, transfixed, her breasts bare to his gaze, the chemise bunched around her hips and her housecoat a crumpled heap behind her.

 

Robert thought that he had never seen a sight like it before.

 

He knelt, cupping one breast and mouthing the other, drawing her nipple between his teeth. She shivered slightly as the electrical touch evinced a reaction. She shook her arms out of the thin loops of her chemise and held his tousled head, enjoying the feel of his warm mouth as it suckled on her teat. A familiar fire began in her belly, spreading out to engulf her. It had been so long since a man had stoked that particular flame, it was a familiar tension deep inside her belly, but had almost been extinguished since her husband had left. The few occasions she had taken her brother-in-law to bed had never pricked the insular wall she had built around her loneliness or inner self. Her juices flowed unnoticed, lubricating and preparing her sex for his entry, it was a delicious feeling, and she gave herself to the abandon of sex.

 

Jean lay back over the discarded clothing on the bed, drawing her breast away from him, but exposing her whole body to his gaze. Although she was almost twice his age, she had remained trim, having regained her figure after Abby’s birth. Her tits were slightly on the small size, a reasonable B cup, but adequate she thought. Her stomach had flattened with the exercises she had religiously done to tone up; her legs, she thought to be her best feature, were long and toned with the remnants of summer sun still remaining as a light tan to her skin.

 

He remained kneeling between her legs that dangled over the edge of the bed. Slowly, his hands covered her knees then, slowly travelling up in parallel lines, over her thighs, meeting at her mons, then, over her stomach in a delicate touch that had her tingling in anticipation. They continued up until at last, grasping her breasts with his thumbs rubbing her already hardened nipples. The whole movement was languid and sensual, almost like a gentle massage. Her desire rose as the heat in her belly increased in intensity.

 

Then, she sighed as his lips found her moistened cleft. His tongue darted out, parting her lips to find her clit. Her pubic hair, kept short, but still giving a full cover, tickled his nose; he ignored it as her taste and smell overtook his sinuses. The first touch of her clit on his tongue brought forth a squeal and a yip of electric tension from her. Jean’s legs drew up and spread to allow him full access to her most sensitive nerve centre.

 

The tip of his nose replaced his tongue, rubbing against her excited clit as he pushed the organ into her cunt to get the whole of her taste over his waiting buds. He tongue fucked her slowly, squashing his nose against her pubic bone, trapping her clit and causing a friction, delicious in the heat until she moaned and shuddered through a mini orgasm. Her essence trickled in a slick stream; he loved her taste and wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life doing just this, knowing that it brought her pleasure and delighting in his ability to please her so. Pretty soon though, the friction became uncomfortable for both of them, it was time for him to make love to her, to enter into her golden box and savour the delights of passion, so often dreamt of.

 

He stood and grasped her bent knees, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed. His rigid cock quested for her sex, but slid over her clit at his first attempt to enter her body. Jean gently grasped his manhood and guided him to her waiting cunt. Robert shuffled forward, feeling the bottom of the bed rest against the bridges of his feet, then, with a pelvic thrust; his cock entered her warmth until the whole length was buried inside of her. She raised her legs and brought them closer to rest on his shoulders but allowing her enough space between to be able to rub her clit as his insistent thrusting brought her to another, more fulfilling climax. She came in a gush, soaking the bedclothes and the floor at his feet.

 

Robert’s cock ached for his release; the pressure had built to an intolerable level, holding on was not going to be an option for very much longer. His groin tightened while his balls produced seminal fluids and spermatozoa that would soon be flooding into her warm and willing womb. Then, his climax rushed upwards, amalgamating in confusion of orgasm. He sprayed his come against the walls of her cunt, spurt after spurt ejected from him as his thrusts became suddenly jerky and uncoordinated and his knees looked to be on the point of collapse.

 

He disengaged from her to lie alongside, facing her still heaving body where her breath was being drawn in ragged gasps. He threw an arm over her, cupping the opposing breast and would have fallen into a deep sated sleep were it not for her need to say something.

 

“Robert… that was… Oh! Never mind.” Apart from breathing, she seemed to be having a problem with what it was she wanted to say.

 

“What Jean? What was it?” He urged her.

 

“You have no idea how I needed that,” She said at last, “but it was so wrong.”

 

“Did it feel wrong?” He asked, knowing what her body had told him.

 

“It felt wonderful.” She snuggled against his sweat soaked skin. “It felt wonderful and exciting and I am so fucked.” She scooted across the bed so her legs were no longer dangling over the side. Robert shifted with her then held her as she curled into a foetal ball with her ass pointing towards him.

 

“How was it wrong?” He persisted. “Do you mean the age thing? Or is that you see me as something less than a man?”

 

“No not that… well perhaps because you are almost half my age, but you have been coming here baby-sitting for a few years now, I have watched you grow from a gawky kid into a fine young man. You should be out with a nice young girl your own age, not fucking some old desperate divorcee who should know better.” There, she had said what she meant to say a few minutes ago, but it didn’t make her feel any better about what was happening. She did like the feel of his arms around her and the warmth from his stomach where her ass was pressed into it.

 

“I told you, I have dreamt of this for so long now I can’t remember when it began. Laying here with you, is truly a dream come true for me, I can’t believe it has happened and I can’t tell you how happy I am to be here right now.” He was rewarded with a grunt; Jean was rapidly falling into a contented sleep, sated and replete in his arms. He slept too; all thoughts of Abby erased from his mind.

 

Later, sometime around noon, she woke and was disorientated for a few seconds, finding another in her bed where, she was used to feeling nothing but a vacant space. Then the memory flooded back as he stirred. Her thoughts raced around in her head. Was it possible? Could it be? What about the neighbours? What would her ex-husband have to say, especially where the custody battle had only just been completed? What would his parent have to say about it? So many questions danced across her mind, raising more questions in their wake, but the prevailing question was the age difference; he is only sixteen and I’m thirty almost. It is impossible; or is it? The fact that she had become a mother at his age had little to do with her thinking, just that, perhaps in a few years time, or even sooner, he would tire of her and she would be alone again. Could she compete against younger girls? Could she handle that or the accusing fingers or scorn from the neighbours. And so the endless warring questions criss-crossed her mind, tying her up in knots of doubt. The more she thought about it though, the more she was persuading herself that it could never work and that, if she had any feelings for him, she would let him go to find an attractive girl, more suited to his age.

 

Then, each and every one of those thoughts dissipated into so much ethereal smoke when his vivid blue eyes opened and he smiled at her as she came into focus. Without hesitation, Robert kissed her mouth, pulling her to him and, as if nothing had happened an hour or so earlier, the fires of passion immediately were stoked into life. His cock hardened and pointed at her as if to say, you are mine.

 

She took him in her mouth, bringing him to the point of climax, then Crying, “Oh God!” as he slowly fucked her. Her worries flew away with each stroke until she was left with nothing but sheer instinct in the act of procreation.

 

The day continued with them in bed, alternately snoozing and fucking each other in a variety of ways, using whatever came to mind, mouths, hands and tongues. Jean thought that the highs this young man was taking her too had been a place never to be visited ever again after her separation and divorce. Robert seemed to know instinctively, exactly where and how to touch her in order to bring her to a plateau, she hadn’t needed to direct him very much, but in those few instructions she had given, the reward was far more than she could have expected. He was a fast learner and seemed to have an unlimited and inexhaustible amount of stamina.

 

For Robert, what had happened and was happening by the minute only reinforced the love he had for her. He hoped that she might fall in love with him in the passage of time. Already, he had differentiated between love and lust, a rare thing in one so young.

 

Later, when both of their desires were more than satisfied, they talked, making wild plans, but realising that, for the moment, Robert needed to stay at home, finish his studies then, if they still wanted each other, make their partnership a more permanent thing. In the meantime, they could share a secret sexual liaison.

 

He showered at last, cleaning of the smell of their combined essences before heading for home and the chance to reflect on a turn of events far beyond his wildest dreams.

 

His first night staying over in Jean’s bed was to open a can of worms, but that was in the future and still, Abby was far from his thoughts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

The long hot summer waxed into autumn and then, in turn, to winter. Both Robert and Abby celebrated birthdays with the passing of gifts and then more gifts as Christmas came and went.

 

Abby was cast as a shepherd in the nativity play at school. Jean and Robert laughed with the rest of the audience when baby Jesus landed on his head with a loud thud and Mary wore a mortified expression that was a classic picture and then again, when one of the wise men forgot his lines, to be reminded by a rather loud stage whisper from the wings.

 

Christmas had been hard for Abby. Her father might have left home, but it seemed that he had also left her as well as her mother. His card had a cheque for one hundred pounds, but nothing else. No words of love or that he was missing her or even an invitation to come and see him in his new house. In her mind and with the astuteness of a young girl, the money was by way of absolution for his conscience. In that one thoughtless act, he had alienated his daughter beyond repair. She was not likely to forgive the latest and greatest betrayal.

 

Jean had noticed a change in Abby. She had always been a little dizzy and somewhat clumsy and loud, but she had suddenly become much more self-assured, displaying a quietude of manner, as if she were carrying a secret. Abby also displayed rather more affection toward Jean with impromptu hugs and consideration of her space. Jean found herself liking Abby more, she loved her of course, as a mother does her child, but at another level, they were becoming friends who shared little moments, a kindred closeness. Jean thought that it might be the result of her father leaving home, perhaps a basic need to know that at least one of her parents was a constant in her life, so, didn’t question it, just enjoyed the bond they were developing.

 

Abby herself, was quite content. She had achieved her goal in seducing Robert. She would have liked to visit that special place again, but it pleased her that her mother and Robert were involved. She liked how her mum bounced around and became more like a girl, she liked that Robert was around occasionally and thought that perhaps, she might get another chance with him sometime, but was in no hurry and really didn’t want to spoil her mother’s secret or happiness. In seducing Robert, she had stepped over a threshold, had experienced that which her fantasies had promoted to an elevation far beyond the event, and, in a moment of maturity, way beyond her years, knew that she would one day, reach that goal of sexual summit again, but only when she was ready and rather more well equipped to handle it.

 

Robert’s exam result arrived. They were not brilliant, but good enough to take him to college where he wanted to study physical education. He was better than okay at most sports, but liked the idea of teaching it. To do that, he needed at least to obtain a degree in sport. He also needed to take higher exams in English and Math. September saw him embark on a path that he hoped would shape his future career and lead on to a teaching degree.

 

Jean also was progressing in her job. The chance to increase her hours had come at just the right time, allowing for a better Christmas with the extra income. It suited her needs and still allowed her to be home in time for Abby’s return from school. Her revenge over David came from an unexpected quarter. Imelda, a fairly new receptionist, very publicly and very loudly announced that it would be a cold day in hell before she went out with such an animal like him. Then, went on to inform everyone who was interested, that he had left a defenceless woman in the middle of London when she refused him sex. Although she didn’t mention Jean by name, it was common knowledge, at least amongst the women in the office and then, by most of everyone else. Many eyes turned to Jean who was sitting quietly, watching the interaction. By implication, it was accepted that she had been the victim of this predator. David’s humiliation was total and complete. Wordlessly, his face florid in embarrassment, he fled the office and found another job a week or two later.

 

Time and circumstance conspired to keep Robert and Jean apart. They managed an occasional secret coupling, usually frenzied and hurried, taking the infrequent opportunities when Abby was visiting friends after school. By tacit agreement, they hid their romance from everyone, preferring that things not be public, at least for the time being.

 

Spring came with melting snow and a gradual rise in the ambient temperature. The days grew longer and warmer. Then in turn came Easter as a celebration of the end of the harsh, cold weather. It was also Jean’s birthday.

 

Abby had baked a cake. Secretly, she had been preparing it at her best friend’s house with the help of Alice’s mother. The finished article was really very good. The icing over the rich cake was quite artistic and the writing in fluorescent green spelling out, ”The best Mum in the world”, was neatly done.

 

Abby called Robert to come over, conspiring with him that she had baked a cake as a surprise. She let him in through the back door. They waited side by side in the living room; both bearing gifts while Jean finished her shower. Abby’s cake sat on the table, candles ready to be lit, and her hand-made card alongside.

 

Robert’s gift of a crucifix was burning a hole in his pocket where he was so eager to give it to her. He had managed to appropriate a bottle of wine from home and had stashed it in the fridge to chill.

 

Eventually and completely ignorant of her waiting audience, Jean came down the stairs wrapped in a bath towel and rubbing her hair dry with another. She stepped into the living room to be confronted with a “Ta-Dah!” from them both.

 

She froze in mid rub, her arms raised above her head, holding the towel in place while her brain caught up with the scene of the two of them patiently waiting for her appearance. The sight of the two people she loved more than anything in life, standing side by side, almost tore a wracking sob from her throat in a sudden up rush of emotion.

 

“Oh!” She managed to quell the sob, swallowing it. Then her eyes found the cake and in an instant, took in the workmanship and labour that had gone into its making. “This is a nice surprise.” The ineptitude of her words made her wince a little. What she really wanted to say was something more along the lines of; what a fantastic, heart wrenching pleasure, a cake that had love lavished in its creation, a cherubic face, gleefully waiting to spring the surprise and a young man, eager to please her in any way he could. That it was a scene she would treasure forever.

 

 

“Happy birthday!” They yelled in unison, delighted smiles on both of their faces when they realised that she was completely bowled over by the surprise. Abby rushed over and threw her arms around Jean’s shoulders in a hug. They laughed, almost falling over in the fierceness of Abby’s momentum. Robert came over rather more circumspect to add a chaste kiss to Jeans cheek, but was immediately enfolded in interlocked arms by them both. He hugged them back with an arm around each of their waists and received a kiss from Jean and Abby. Privately, he realised for the first time that Abby was as tall as Jean and had developed quite a bit since summer. Guiltily, he pushed the thought away, not wanting to think about what had happened between them, preferring to compartmentalise that event into the “to be forgotten area of his mind.”

 

They broke apart to present their gifts. Abby puffed out in pride in the fruits of her labours and the accolades that came with them. Jean enthused and congratulated her daughter at the quality of the piping on the cake and artistry of her card.

 

Robert’s gift was received with effusive thanks and immediately put around her neck. A private look passed between them that promised a rather more, in depth thank you was owed and would be paid. Jean left the two of them cutting the cake into quarters and then eighths to get dressed. She awarded herself some little time to pamper herself a little, rubbing in a fragrant moisturiser all over her skin, then a light atomised spray of Jean Paul Goutier, eau de par fame. She admired her body in the full-length mirror that resided in the corner of her bedroom. For a thirty something with another year under her belt, she didn’t look at all bad she thought.

 

“I would fancy you myself.” She remarked aloud and then laughed at herself as she inspected the curve of her bum as far as possible in a two dimensional image. She selected a figure hugging pair of jeans and a top that flattered her breasts. These were pulled over a matching set of thong and push up bra she had bought for herself in “La Senza”, a present she gave to herself with Robert in mind.

 

Dinner was almost formal, sitting around the dining table, candles as a centrepiece and a glass of wine each. They laughed and chatted, enjoying the familiarity of each other’s company then, later, played trivial pursuit, cheating outrageously and giggling all the way through it.

 

Eventually, Abby yawned and stretched with her arms held vertically aloft. She kissed her mother good night with an embrace around her neck that said rather more than goodnight. Then she kissed Robert’s cheek, also wishing him a goodnight, but with a theatrical wink as if to say, I’m clearing out of the way so you two can play.

 

Robert sat in an armchair, pleasantly comfortable, watching the dancing flames of the fire. Jean had got up to turn the lights down low now that Abby had gone to bed. She sat on the floor at his feet, resting an elbow and then, her head on his knees, her feet curled under her.

 

He felt an ache in his heart. She was so damned attractive; he loved her hair, the subtle changes of shade. He loved the shape of her neck and the curve as her neck joined her shoulders. He adored the freckles she had on her shoulders; small splashes of colour, as if flicked from a paintbrush. Her breasts, even though she thought of them a small, were perfect as was her flat stomach and neatly trimmed thatch of dark pubic hair. These memories of her saw him through his day, but also distracted him from his studies at the oddest times.

 

His wandering thoughts were brought back into sharp focus as her hand wormed between the teeth of his opened zipper to find his cock. He hadn’t felt the slider being pulled down in his relaxed state, but was now fully awake.

 

She found his flaccid organ and freed it from the confines of denim. It looked slightly ridiculous, poking out of his jeans, but either Jean didn’t notice, or could care less as her lips encircled the dark head and the warmth of her mouth drew blood into the rapidly hardening rod.

 

She scooted around a little, making it easier for her to suck him into her mouth and with hands behind his knees; she pulled him forward so that he was prone in the armchair.

 

Jean had allowed an inch or so between her lips, but then stopped and knelt up. Deliciously slowly, she popped the button of his jeans and tugged them over his hips and down to his ankles. She undid the bottom few buttons of his shirt and tucked the ends under him. Deeming him prepared, jean deliberately slowly, lowered her mouth to his glistening cock, licking his eye with the very tip of her pointed tongue and then running it around the flanged edge of his cock head. He twitched and moaned and then gritted his teeth as her head sank lower, allowing him entry into her mouth. He felt her teeth gently rasp over his sensitive nerve endings as his cock continued the agonisingly slow progression into the warm haven of her mouth. She had over half of his twitching phallus now in the most intimate embrace she could give, but was not content, she had determined to swallow the whole length, but didn’t want to gag, so, by going slowly, she thought that she might achieve her goal and make it something special for him at the same time.

 

Millimetre by millimetre, she sank lower, pushing him deeper, trusting that he wouldn’t thrust and ruin the effort. Fully engorged, the girth forced her to open her mouth a little wider, but still she continued to ease him deeper. He was now passed the back of her tongue, passed the point where her gag reflex would have kicked in normally. His hair tickled her nose; then he was right to the back of her throat, there was no more to engulf, his whole length nestled in her warmth. In an inspirational moment, she had the idea to nod her head, rather than bob up and down. The effect was to create a gentle massage to his dick. Somehow, she managed to breath as the rocking motion brought him to a shuddering climax. Her reward was his semen, hot and urgent, flooding her throat and passing into her stomach.

 

Robert hadn’t moved a muscle while she took him to a heavenly orgasm. He didn’t dare move, not wanting to spoil the deliciously slow crescendo that she had given him, but now he had come and she had released him from the prison of her mouth, he touched her hair and then, cupped her face as she wiped a globule of his spend from her lip.

 

“Let’s go to bed.” She said, getting up from the floor and offering her hand. She hit the light switch as they passed hand in hand to mount the stairs and continue what had been the best birthday she could remember.

 

Sometime later, after Robert had returned the favour with his mouth clamped to her clit while he worked two fingers over her “G” spot and then fucked her slowly, with a passionate tenderness until she had locked her feet behind his buttocks and pulled him into her body as far as he would go, they fell into a sated sleep, locked in an embrace, her head on his chest, his arm protectively around her shoulder.

 

Jean woke early in the morning and reached for his dick, hoping to feel him inside her one last time before the constraints of their lives took control of the day. She found a hand already wrapped around the base of his shaft. Suddenly wide eyed, she raised her head from the pillow and found that Abby had crept into the bed, sometime in the night. She had hold of the sleeping Robert’s cock in a vice like grip, but was, to all intents, asleep herself.

 

Jean didn’t know what to do for a few moments. She knew that Abby was sexually curious, she even knew that her vibrator had found its way out of her ‘special’ drawer and had a fairly good idea that Abby might have used it. Jean thought that, although this might be a little early in Abby’s development, suppressing it would probably be more harmful.

 

But having her active with a man was a step too far. Somehow, she was going to have to broach the subject, perhaps it was way passed time for the Mother daughter chat. In the meantime, she had to do something with this little scenario. She peeled back a finger at a time, Abby’s fist and with a few sleepy grunts, but little else, managed to free Robert’s stiff cock from the grasp of her fourteen year old’s grasp. She gently woke him, silencing any waking noises with a kiss and then a finger on his lips, urging him to quiet.

 

He slipped from the bed noiselessly. Abby stirred and turned over but did not wake. Silently they left her to sleep on while they showered and fucked in the locked bathroom.

 

Jean told him about what had happened. Robert blushed, but managed no to blurt out that he had known when Abby got into bed, or that he had slipped a finger into her lithe little body while she rubbed him until he came over the sheet or that he had in fact, fucked her daughter, at her insistence, some time back now.

 

Later, after Robert had returned home, the conversation between Jean and Abby didn’t go exactly how she expected it to. It started off okay, a general chat about boys and sex, but then Jean had to mention that getting into her bed was now off limits.

 

“Occasionally, Robert and I will be in bed together. I know you are happy that we are together and I know you are adult enough to realise what goes on when that happens, but it is something between him and I Abby, not for you to share.”

 

“Why not?” Abby asked, guilessly.

 

“Well for one thing, you are too young.”

 

“To young for Robert do you mean?” Her faced portrayed a perfect innocence.

 

“Well, yes as a matter of fact, but also too young to be sexually active.” This was getting a little deeper than Jean felt comfortable with, but the next words from Abby were devastating in their argument.

 

“Like Robert is too young for you?” The barb sunk deep. “I mean, he is nearly half your age isn’t he, but it doesn’t stop you from screwing him now does it?” Abby looked into her mother’s eyes and knew that she had won a moral victory, she also knew that if she drove it too far, irreparable damage would ensue, so decided to be gentle with her fragile mother’s feelings. “I know what goes on between you, but that makes me happy. I like the way you are when he is around and I like what it does for you, he’s much better than anyone else and that includes dad or Uncle Keith.”

 

Somewhat defeated, Jean broke the connection of eyes. The truth of what her daughter was saying hit home. Yes Robert was way too young for her, but it was also true that her heart skipped a beat when he was near. Jean realised, perhaps admitting to the fact that she had developed a love for him. No! That wasn’t right, she loved him with a passion and really wanted for them to take it further. She wanted him all to herself and in a way, felt selfish about it.

 

“You are right Abby. Robert is too young in the eyes of the world. I doubt many would accept what we feel. All I know is that I want him, can’t live without him at any price.”

 

“Any price?”

 

“Yes.” A tear traced a course over her cheek at the fleeting thought that they wouldn’t be together.

 

“So, if I said that part of that price is that we share him, how would that be?” The trap was set and all it needed was for Jean to fall in. “Would that be too much of a price?” But Jean had known where this was headed and had already prepared an answer.

 

“Yes… and no. Abby, you are my daughter, you’re only fourteen and I must protect you and raise you as best I can. I can’t allow you to become involved in some kind of sexual relationship. It would be a dereliction of my duty.” Jean sniffed a sob back. “But if I have to, I will give up Robert or anyone else until you are old enough. It would break my heart, but if that is what is necessary, then that is how it will be.”

 

“Ha! A dereliction of duty, whatever that means, well mum, it is too late, I have had sex more than once and enjoyed it. I was careful, I went to the Doctor’s a year ago and have been on the pill since; so, I won’t get pregnant, unlike you.” She paused for effect, waiting for her mother to catch up. “So, my terms are, if I chose to and Robert is willing, I will take him to my bed, unlike you, he will not make me pregnant.”

 

“I’m not pregnant.” It was the easiest thing Jean could pick up on from the revelations her daughter had just given.

 

“News flash mum; you are pregnant, my guess is about two months.” She was right. “What are you gong to do now?”

 

Gradually, realisation of her condition, along with a piece-by-piece destruction of her argument, Jean accepted that they would share Robert. But, now that she knew she was going to have a baby, things had just gone completely crazy. The conversation finished with plans being made. First thing was to tell Robert of his impending fatherhood, then let him into the family secret, for that is what the arrangement would be, then plan what the three of them were going to do with a fourth member of the family to look out for.

 

He was in for the shock of his life. Men can be so gullible and really, although they like to think otherwise, they are completely at the mercy of a woman.

 

Chapter 4

 

 

 

“How do I look?” Jean had tried on most of her wardrobe, discarding dress after dress and looking critically in the mirror at her reflection, only to dump each ensemble in an untidy and ever growing pile of clothing on the bed. The dress she had settled on was a low cut, figure hugging, black velvet evening dress with a low-neck line and a slit to mid thigh. It was slimming, not that Jean needed it, and very flattering to her shape.

 

“You know, I think that’s it. You look fabulous Mum; it just needs some pearls or something.” Abby was also going through the same pile of clothes, but found them just a little too big for her. She had grown to the same height as her mother, but had yet to flare out into full womanhood. Her hips were too thin and her boobs, now in a training bra, still had a way to go. “I want to get my ears pierced. If we’re sharing a man, then we should share jewellery” Her mischievous grin split her face and caused Jean to laugh.

 

Even though she had laughed at Abby’s jest, Jean was not happy that she had been manoeuvred into acceptance of her daughter’s proposal. On one hand, Abby was way too young, in her opinion, to engage in sexual relations, but on a rather more fundamental level, she wanted Robert all to herself. She wasn’t happy that Abby had taken herself to the Doctor without telling her. She was furious that he had prescribed Abby birth control pills without letting her know. It might be a stupid law in this crazy politically correct world, that the patient’s rights are paramount and that, confidentiality prevented him from saying anything, but she had hoped that her relationship with the Doctor was sufficiently good enough that he might have let her know somehow. The realisation that he would have needed to examine Abby internally, without her permission or presence, appalled her, but that is English law and as a parent, you are dammed if you do and dammed if you don’t.

 

Abby was just peeling off a shimmering silver metalic party frock Jean had bought years ago to attend some function or another with her ex-husband. She looked at her developing daughter, feeling a pang as her slender body was revealed, noticing the first fluffs of hair under her arms and her budding breasts, nestling in the training bra they had bought a few weeks ago in Marks and Spencer’s.

 

“Abby…” Jean sat on the edge of the bed and waited for the dress to hit the pile of clothing, waited for Abby’s attention. “You know, I am not entirely comfortable with our agreement and think I have told you why. You are so young and should be enjoying your childhood…”

 

“I am not a child Mum. I’m not like Suzy or Claire, who are still silly and stuff.” There was a warning note in her voice that brooked no nonsense. Her two best friends were juvenile in comparison, that was true, in all things, but that was how Jean thought Abby should be and indeed, would have preferred her to be like.

 

“I know you’re not a child darling, but even so…” She shrugged, allowing her body language to complete the sentence.

 

“Look and this is how it is going to be, I don’t intend to jump into bed with Robert every chance I get. In fact, I don’t have any plans at all in the direction, but, what I am trying to agree with you is the fact that I might want to and that you agree; okay?” Abby’s own body language was letting Jean know that she meant business and there was no argument good enough to change her mind. “Now, are we going to get dressed here or what?”

 

There had been a subtle shift of power between Mother and Daughter since Jean’s vulnerability and her new condition had become apparent. The essential things were still with Jean of course, but Abby was no longer the little girl, the child of the family. Suddenly, she had adopted an equal footing in the house, a sharing of decision making and become more of a friend or co-conspirator with her mother. It meant that, providing her demands were not outlandish, her will held sway or at least, was seriously considered. She had, overnight, developed a maturity, which amazed her even.

 

Robert was expected at around seven o’clock. They had conspired to feed him with something lavish, then, let him have the news. Giggling conspirators that they were, a meal had been planned, candles and wine organised, and even a centrepiece of silk flowers had been brought down from the loft and dusted off; a memento of Jean’s wedding feast, from so long and another life ago. With everything ready, the two made final touches to their appearance and waited excitedly, for him to arrive.

 

Robert was late, as usual. Only ten minutes, but they had been a very long ten minutes to endure. Finding them both dressed as if for a funeral or something and then the laid out table waiting for him to take his place, aroused his suspicions that something was in the wind.

 

“Well you two look lovely, almost as good as the table.” He received a playful clout on his upper arm from Abby. “Is there an occasion?” He wracked his brain to see if he had forgotten a birthday or anniversary or something. Jean left Abby to see to Robert while she went to the kitchen to bring dinner in.

 

“Can’t we give our man a treat once in a while?” Abby grasped his arm in her own and led him to the head chair of the table. “Mum will be bringing the food through in a moment, so, sit and relax.” He felt a vague unease, wondering what this was really about, knowing that something was afoot, but clueless about what it could be.

 

Eventually, Jean brought steaming plates of food to the table, heated dinner plates and a chilled bottle of Chablis. The meal was portioned to plates and they chatted about inconsequential things, over the food.

 

Robert felt a bit like a rabbit trapped in the headlamps of an onrushing car, feeling the air of excitement and expectancy between them, but joined in the chitchat, offering his own opinions when they were asked for. He noticed for the first time, just how much Abby was a carbon copy of her mother, albeit a younger version and somewhat underdeveloped in comparison. They shared the same hair colouring, a kind of rich brown with auburn accents, both cut to the shoulder and laying in perfectly straight lines as if freshly combed. Hazel eyes framed by long dark lashes that didn’t need the aid of cosmetics to enhance them, clear unadorned skin and long necks. Abby was the same height now, and he noticed, had started to fill out a little more than when they had lain together seven months or so ago. He blushed at the memory and, for an uncountable time, put the memory back in the compartmentalised space in his mind called ‘not to be opened’.

 

Once the plates had been cleared away to the dishwasher, Abby and Jean came back to the table where they had insisted Robert stay; they sat, facing him like judges at the bench. He felt a thrill of trepidation, knowing that he was about to learn what this evening had been about.

 

It was Abby who opened the rather more serious conversation than the idle chat over the meal.

 

“Robert…” She squared her shoulders towards him, trapping his eyes as she did so. “We have something to tell you haven’t we Mum?” Jean nodded as Robert’s eyes escaped Abby’s for a moment.

 

“Okay…” He drew the word out and waited, thinking, this is how Damocles must have felt. His heart rate quickened; a mixture of fear, dread and anticipation all commingling at the same time. Unable to stand the suspense any longer he said, “Well?”

 

Jean looked up from her lap, found his eyes and let him have it straight off.

 

“You are going to be a father, I’m pregnant.”

 

He didn’t know what to expect, but this was several light years away from anything he had imagined. Typically of a man, knocked off his equilibrium, he reserved any emotion until he knew how she felt about the news.

 

“Oh… I err… um… how?”

 

“How do you think dummy?” Abby chimed in.

 

“No, I meant, how do you feel about it?” But neither of them was going to let him off the hook, keeping stern, emotionless faces, both directed straight at him.

 

“How do you feel about it Robert?” Asked Abby; taking the lead in the unequal conversation. “What are you going to do about it?”

 

He ignored the first question, feeling that to be too dangerous to answer right now.

 

“Do? I don’t know; it’s all a bit of a shock really.” He was floundering and becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He didn’t want to offer an opinion on something so momentous without establishing first, how the woman felt; it is a pre-programmed response pattern in men, designed to make sure he didn’t say the wrong thing and be diametrically opposed to her feelings.

 

A glance between the two signalled a swathe of laughter and smiles. Relieved, Robert was able to let out a whoosh of air and laugh with them. He was delighted really; him a father, with the woman he loved so much; how perfect would that be? Practicalities of what this would all mean to them would come later; this moment was for celebrations. Had he thought about it, he would have realised that the two were stringing him along; all the preparations did kind of give it away.

 

They hugged, a three way group, sharing in the joy of the news.

 

“When did you find out?” Robert asked Jean.

 

“It was Abby who told me. Gawd knows how she knew, but she was right, the tester said so and my Doctor has confirmed that I am about nine weeks along.” She kissed his cheek and squeezed his shoulder delightedly.

 

“It was easy really, we cycle together and when you didn’t, well it didn’t take Einstein to work it out.”

 

They talked for some time after, getting used to the idea, but then the inevitable question came. It was Jean who asked it.

 

“What are we going to do about the future Robert? You are still at college and have to finish that, but I am the only bread winner here” Then the germ of an idea lodged. “I suppose we could sell this place and find something smaller. The money would see us through for a while. I will get maternity leave with pay, so that would be okay.”

 

“Wouldn’t your husband want half the proceeds?”

 

“Screw him.” Jean spat with something approaching vehemence. “He has done fuck all for me or Abby since he took up with his bimbo, one visit and a check for a couple of hundred quid hardly gives him any claims. Screw him. Beside, my dad gave this house to me, so he has no claim on it.”

 

“What I really meant was what are you going to do Robert? You are going to have to tell your parents some time soon. I doubt they will be too happy about it. And then, what do you want to do?”

 

“Move in with you.” Robert’s simple statement sounded, to him at least, an ideal solution. Move in with Jean and Abbey and live happily ever after. It had all the hallmarks of a perfect future. The consequences of moving in or telling his parents hadn’t figured in his thinking.

 

Jean went silent for a while, staring off into space while she collected her thoughts. Robert and Abby looked on without speaking, waiting for her to come to a conclusion. But, when she did at last speak, it was only with another question.

 

“Robert, I’m not so sure that that is such a good idea. Do you know what you would be taking on? I think you need to think about moving in. It would mean leaving the security of your home, probably leaving behind a lot of hurt and confusion. I’ve known your mother for many years and I know she will not understand, much less give her blessing. As for your father, I don’t know him so well, but I can guess he will not be happy about it at all. Then there are the neighbours. You might not care what they say, but neighbours can make life very difficult if they think they have a chance to. But, more than anything, you are young, very young, with a whole life in front of you and a lot of growing up to do. Who is to say that sometime in the future, you get bored or find someone your own age? You see, it isn’t so straight forward.” She would have carried on, trotting out reasons why he shouldn’t move in, exercising her doubts and justifying her doubts, talking herself out of the idea, but Robert held his hands up, palm out to halt her.

 

“I’ll deal with my parents, that’s my problem and I will try to get them to understand. As for neighbours, screw them, besides, who will know if we move? I can’t say what will happen in the future, no one can, but I love you now. I love Abby and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Besides, it might be you, you might meet someone and fall in love with them; how could I compete with an older, more experienced man?”

 

The arguments flowed back and forth, neither making it easy for the other where doubts and uncertainties clashed, neither with a strong enough argument to sway the others thinking. It was Abby who finally chipped in as mediator instead of the spectator she had been.

 

“Listen to you two… you sound like a bleeding married couple already. Why don’t you think about working out how it can be done instead of why it can’t?” She was of course, absolutely right; the innocence of her years cutting through the dressing of social acceptability, to get right to the heart of the problem. “Why not try it, find out,  work out the problems as they come up.”

 

Like a punch drunk fighter, Jean retired to the kitchen to make some coffee, gain some space and think in peace, leaving Abby and Robert to the spoils of a minor victory. Could it work between them? Exactly how did she feel about Robert? What would the future hold? Could she rely on him? So many questions buzzing around in her mind; the sanctuary of making coffee would give her a chance to mull over all of her doubts.

 

“That isn’t the only news we had for you Robert.” Abby took advantage of the lull in the ebb and flow of argument and decided that, if it might tip the balance, her own news might do the trick. “Mum and I have talked and agreed that you and I could… well, if you and I… um… you can have me too; we could share you.

 

Robert was too stunned to say anything. His already burgeoned mind just couldn’t take this last revelation in and process it.

 

“I thought that, well that you and I could, once in a while, do what we did last year. I really want to do that again, but there’s no hurry.”

 

“Abby, I don’t know what to say. I need to think.” It might have been taken as a rejection, but then, he gave her a cuddle as he rose to follow Jean into the kitchen; his own mind roiling in a confusion of thoughts and solutions, but not actually settling one thing or, anything concrete.

 

“Jean.” He quietly said as he approached her back. “I’m going to go home and tell my parents the news.”

 

“Okay.” Her jangled emotions rationalised that he was running away, just as she expected him to do. That thought brought a sudden sob and then the opening of flood gates as the emotion overwhelmed her and spilled over. Her shoulders shook as sobs wracked her slim frame.

 

Robert grasped her, spinning her around to face him, then smothered her in the embrace of his arms while she let out all of the confusion and trepidation in a tide of tears. He allowed her to let it out, just holding her, saying nothing until her sobs abated.

 

“Jean, I love you.” A simple statement and meant with all his heart and one to make her howl in anguish, expecting a ‘but’ to follow, her vision of the future a mess of jumbled thoughts. “I love you and can’t wait for us to be together.”

 

She eventually calmed, bolstered by his words and a glimmer of hope and accepted that he did need to go home and sort things out with his parents. He left her with a lingering kiss and a longing look as the door closed.

 

Jean and Abby talked for a little while longer until the emotions of the evening took there toll on Jean. She took a Nytol and went to bed.

 

A distraught Robert softly knocked on the front window a couple of hours later. His parents hadn’t taken the news of their impending grandparenthood well at all. Calling Jean names that he had to defend until he slammed the door of the front room to reach the sanctuary of his room and shut out the diatribe he was hearing, but that sanctuary was denied him when his father, in a blind rage, kicked the door in to continue the row. For the first time in his life, his father hit Robert, a full punch that split his eyebrow. In a final family act; Robert struck back, returning the punch and opening a divide that could not be bridged again between them.

 

Abby let him in and fussed over the wound, bathing it with an antiseptic that made him wince, his head in her lap. Then, when she had tended to the wound, she kissed him full on the lips. Wordlessly, she got up from the settee, took his hand and led him up the stairs to her bedroom.

 

She had filled out a little in the seven months or so since they had last been together. Her hips, though still narrow, were taking on the form of a woman. Her pubic hair had darkened and coarsened now from the down that had been there before, but was still only a patch. Her breasts formed small bumps, but rather much more pronounced now with darker aureoles surrounding her little nipples, hinting that she would develop a fine pair in the not too far distant future.

 

Neither of them spoke as she undressed him while he stood immobile at the foot of her bed. Her small hand grasped his flaccid cock, stirring life into it. She knelt and suckled on him, bringing forth a gasp as her hot mouth enveloped him.

 

As if coming to his senses, Robert began to ask about Jean, but was silenced with a finger against his lips as she stood and then, when they had lain on top of the bed, covered his mouth with her cunt, kneeling over his head and rubbing her clit against his nose while he lapped at her labia.

 

His climax fast approaching some time later, Robert was about to pull out of her, not wanting two pregnancies, but Abby had other ideas and let him know that she was protected. Her reward was a his seed, planted deep into her, spurt after hot spurt, until he collapsed, exhausted as much from the effort of coming as the emotional rollercoaster he had been on over the last few hours.

 

He rolled off of her and was asleep with in seconds. Abby’s fingers found her leaking snatch, rubbing his come over her budding clit and fucking her fingers into her until his spend was all gone. Then she slept as well, her back coiled into him in sated sleep.

 

 

Epilogue.

 

Jake was born seven months later, a healthy son to them and so welcomed and loved.

 

Jean had sold the house, getting rather more than she had expected. It raised just over three hundred and sixty thousand pounds. They could afford to buy a smaller three bedroom maisonette, nearer to town and still have just less than two hundred left after taxes and stamp duty.

 

Robert’s mother allowed him to return to collect his belongings and tried to mediate, but the rift between him and his father was too wide to be repaired. Secretly, she was delighted to have a grandson and visited on odd occasions, bringing gifts and some money she had saved in a secret account her mother had advised her to do, just in case.

 

Robert completed college, eventually starting his own business that, although not flourishing in its return, was good enough to keep them afloat.

 

Abby grew into a beautiful young woman, venturing on holiday to Spain with her friends when they reached eighteen. Got through college with a degree and started working as a personal assistant. She went through several disastrous love affairs, always returning to the family home when hurt; always seeking the comfort of Robert’s love and sex when the world conspired against her and the solace of her family.

 

Jake grew into a well balanced young man, making his way through university, but always maintaining a self assurance and independence that excluded everyone including his family. He loved them, but in his own way.

 

Jean and Robert lived, very much in love until; she was killed in a road traffic accident. Neither Robert nor Abby ever quite got over the shock, or quite filled the void left by her, but, as if waiting for the moment, Abby filled Jean’s shoes almost immediately. They lived together, in memory of Jean and a beginning that started so long ago.

 

Author’s note:

 

I am still of the opinion that child sex is totally wrong, but agree with one reader that, although not socially acceptable in these days of elongated teaching and adolescence, was perfectly acceptable, even as recently as the early nineteen hundreds in the UK and is still acceptable in some parts of Africa to this day. I also agree with his comment that we have not changed in our physical being; it is only the psychology of modern times that has altered.

 

I could have put a lot more sex into this story, made it more of a stroke event, but that might have detracted from the storyline. Given my own reserve, it would have spoiled what has been an enjoyable episode for me. It could have been drawn out much more, but again, I had reached a natural conclusion and had nothing more to say in the lives of these people who had found that most rare of commodities; love.

 

I sincerely hope that you, the reader, enjoy this story and forgive me the typos, spelling mistakes and grammatical errors. I promise that I have read it through, more than once, so most of them have been taken out, but no one is perfect.

 

Thank you for reading this.