Derby Line Marriage Ch. 06byjtuf©
Francis fingered the scrollwork above the fireplace in her grandmother's stately Victorian home. She placed her wine glass on the mantle and sat down by the dying fire. Scattered flames flickered from the warm embers. Holidays at her grandmother's house were always dull. This year, her husband's absence made the time pass even more slowly. She hoped that his trip to a New York City fertility clinic would be worth the separation. Footsteps announced company.
"My, you look pensive," said a strapping young man as he sat down besides her.
"Hey Van. I was just wondering when I would get pregnant. It is difficult enough thinking about it at home. Here, I have to put up with grandma's questions on top of everything."
"Yeah, knowing grandma, she'll probably blame it on Patrick and say you should have married a Quebecois instead," Van responded. He placed a comforting hand on his cousin's shoulder.
Francis placed her hand over his and brightened. "At least you brought a friend home for Thanksgiving. That will divert from of her vitriol from me."
"Oh, that old bird has plenty of spite to go around. Come on. They are setting the table for diner."
They entered the formal dining room to see 16 place settings laid out on the cherry wood table. Delicate curved chairs, 7 per side, were tucked under the table. Uneasy guests stood by them, waiting to hear where they should sit. An elderly matron sat at the head of the table in a sturdy armchair. The chair's twin at the other end of the table remained empty. The unnecessary place setting in front of it added a chilly shadow to the room.
The matron patted the seat to her right. "Phillip, you were grandpa's favorite when he was alive. Have a seat next to me." The middle aged man hastily sat in his place. Relative by relative, the family matriarch assigned a seat for each guest. Soon, only three remained standing. "Francis, make yourself comfortable over there. It's a shame Patrick could not make it. I suppose family is not that important to Anglos." Francis bit her tongue as she sat down three seats to the woman's left. Her grandmother pointed to the next seat in line. "Van, that spot is yours."
Van joined he others at the table. His jaw hurt a bit from gritting his teeth. Half a minute of awkward silence hung over the proceedings. Van coughed loudly.
"Oh," said the matron as if she just noticed the lone standing guest. "Your classmate from college can sit next to me on my left."
"My friend's name is Bo," Van responded. Bo quietly assumed his position at the table.
The salad course could have been a meal on its own. Multiple types of rolls were piled high in each bread basket. The din of polite conversation mixed with the clang of silverware on china.
"Bo here is from Sweden," Van said to his companion. "He is double majoring in finance and English. He's a wiz at both."
"Thanks," Bo replied. "I hope to work in New York or London after I graduate in May."
"English is too guttural," the matriarch declared. "French is a much sweeter language. That's why I made sure all of you studied it." She turned to Van. "Donnez-moi le pain."
Van methodically selected a roll, buttered it, and placed it on his plate. Then he asked Bo, "Would you like some more bread?"
His grandmother rose from her seat. The room hushed as she walked up to Van. She smacked him on the back of the head and took a roll from the basket. Van stormed out of the room. Francis hurried after him.
The two cousins conversed in the kitchen. "Don't fume about it, Van. That's what she thrives on. It is just one holiday. Next year, Bo will be in the UK or America. He will never have to see grandma again."
"Actually, I was hoping he would be here for more holidays," Van explained to Francis.
Van looked down. "Bo isn't just my friend." He opened the refrigerator for a beer. "He is my boyfriend."
"Yeah." Van took a gulp of beer from the can. "You're the first relative I told."
"Don't worry. I'll let you be the one to tell everyone else," Francis assured him. Her hand rested on his arm. They both turned when Bo entered the room.
"Let's go for a swim," Van suggested. "I don't have the appetite for any more dinner."
Van, Bo, and Francis walked to the glass and steel structure at the far end of the estate with their swimsuits in hand. Inside, they found a heated swimming pool. The men caught Francis up on the history of their relationship as the three sat by the pool. When they were ready to swim, Van and Bo went into the bathroom to change. Then it was Francis's turn. She took a minute to admire herself in the mirrored wall above the bathroom sink. At the age of 28, she was still shapely. She had experienced enough to give her sexual confidence, but not enough to dull her desires. The two college students were already splashing each other with water when she approached the pool.
Francis jumped into the fray. Bo laughed while she dunked her younger cousin. "Why Van, you never told me Francis was so athletic," he chided. Van struggled to get his head above water, but Francis held him tight. Every so often, she turned to allow him a gasp of air. "Go easy on him," Bo chuckled, "I don't want him too tired tonight. Well, at least not at the start of the night."
Francis released her cousin. "Spare me the details. I still remember driving him to Vancouver for his first year of college. I can't believe he's already a junior. How will you two manage a long distance relationship next year?"
"I applied to study abroad," Van said. "I'll attend a college close to where ever Bo finds work."
"Wow. This is serious then," Francis exclaimed.
"You bet," said Bo as he tussled Van's hair. "This fellow is going to bunk with me for a year, and if it all works out ..."
Van placed his hand on Bo's chest. "Don't jump ahead too much. We'll see how the next couple of years go." Then he turned to Francis. "This hopeless romantic was looking for rings a month after our first date."
Bo shrugged. "What can I say? I'm the traditional type."
The group frolicked for a while until Van decided that he better return to the mansion and make peace with his grandmother. Bo relaxed in the jacuzzi near the pool. Francis went into the bathroom to rinse the chlorine out of her hair. When she tugged the shower curtain open, the curtain rod fell to the floor. A close inspection showed that the bracket for it was broken. Francis glanced at the bathroom door. If Bo was straight, she would have definitely closed it, but since he wasn't, she felt comfortable leaving it ajar.
Francis slowly removed her bathing suit. The water hissed out of the showerhead as she turned the faucet handles. She held her hand under the streaming water until the temperature stabilized. Stepping into the water, she felt the warm droplets beat against her skin. Through the mirror above the sink, she could see Bo gazing ahead. Francis licked her lips unconsciously. She loved her husband, but she saw no harm in looking. She admired Bo's cold Nordic features. Francis lathered her waist length hair with shampoo. She closed her eyes and rinsed it out. When she reopened her eyes, Bo was sitting on the edge of the Jacuzzi with a towel wrapped around his swim shorts.
Francis cleaned her face and neck. She rubbed soap along her slender arms. Through the mirror, she looked at Bo's torso. It was thicker than her husband's and had noticeably more hair. She proceeded to wash her own smooth breasts. In the two years since her marriage, this was the closest she had ever come to being naked in front of another man. Her nipples tightened at the thought. She spread soap over them. Francis let the warm water rinse off the soap. She moaned quietly from the sensation.
As she soaped up her stomach, Francis pictured Bo sitting on the bathroom sink and watching her. She rotated her hips slightly and pulled back her shoulders. Her hand glided from one hip to the other. Her fingers returned to clean out her belly button. Then they slid downward. She applied a bit of shampoo to her bush. Lathering her pubic hair was a great excuse to massage the region. The bottle said to rinse and repeat. She followed the instruction enthusiastically. She wondered what Bo would think if he had a close look at her pussy. She figured he was probably interested in other things.
Francis turned so that her back faced the mirror. With a washcloth, she cleaned between her shoulder blades. Then she applied soap to the small of her back. Her hour glass figure swayed as she imagined Bo's hands in place of hers. Her fingers spread across her derriere. Lubricated by the soap, she explored her backside. Her hand rested between her ass cheeks. Penetration there was out of the question. She had never taken anything up there, and she had no intention to start. Still, she liked the prospect of teasing a man with her curvy bottom. After all, a woman's ass looked much like a man's.
Francis placed her hands on the shower wall for support. She stuck out her bum and wiggled it gently. She wondered what Bo's cock would feel like if he smacked it against her cheeks. She imagined him standing behind her, eager for a tight ass. She grinned at the thought of how she would tease him mercilessly with her crack and then back off just before he was ready to enter. Francis's left hand wandered down to her crotch. She planned how she would take control of the situation by grabbing Bo's rod and guiding it to her snatch. Her fingers parted her pussy lips. She wished it was Bo's cockhead instead.
As her fingers entered her vaginal folds, Francis wondered how Bo would respond to the first sensation of wet pussy against his dick. She flattered herself into thinking how the experience would bring out a new side in him. She imagined him loving the feel of her womanhood and pounding her cunt with unrestrained lust. Francis thrust herself onto her hand and paused. Twitching in her pussy accompanied a trickle of cum. The shower water wasted away the fluids from her legs. Francis turned again to face the mirror. She sighed deeply and looked at the reflection of Bo's handsome face.
Later that evening, Francis bumped into Van in the hallway. "I'm glad you and Bo are dating. He is a great guy," she told him.
"Thanks. I'm very happy with him."
"Does his family know he is gay?" she asked.
"Half his relatives know we are dating. The other half don't. Oh, and he's not gay. He's bi."