The Touch Ch. 27

byGreenFingers©

I heard the kitchen door open and close behind me and thought that it would be Gwen, seeking me out for a few minutes alone together, but it wasn't it was Emma. She was still wearing her sexy outfit. She didn't say anything straight away just lifted my hand and took a shallow drag from my cigarette.

"Since when did you start smoking?" I scolded her gently. As far as I knew Emma didn't smoke and hardly ever drank alcohol, and being the protective brother figure since Dad left, I didn't really want her to start.

I took a deep drag and then offered it to her again. She shook her head. "No thanks, one puff is enough." She paused, and then added, "Jay .... Do you really think that I am pretty?"

I drew deeply on the cigarette again and then flicked the tip away, "Yes Emms, I do think you are pretty, very pretty and you look terrific tonight." I wanted to give her ego a boost but even as I said the words I realised that I was probably opening up a can of worms.

"Oh Jay, thank you!"

She sprang forward and before I could stop her had thrown her arms around me and was hugging me tight against her and had pressed her face into my throat. I could feel her hot breath and her warm moist lips against my neck as she nuzzled in with tiny affectionate kisses. Her slim body was pressed hard against mine and I could feel every contour of her, her tiny breasts pushed against my chest and her groin and thighs moulded to mine, we were almost the same height and her crotch was pressed hard against mine so that she couldn't but help be aware of the instant erection that she had provoked.

I had been in a state of uncontrolled horniness all day since being with Caroline in the morning and having Emma climbing over me was just too much. "Emma... stop!" I panted.

She removed her face from my throat and looked up; our lips were less than an inch apart. I knew she was going to kiss me but I was totally unable to stop her or resist in any way, Our lips met and our tongues touched and then hungrily thrust and twirled as we explored each others mouths and I clutched hard at her firm flat buttocks and hauled her hard up against my erection.

The light went on in the bathroom above us and we could hear Gwen ... Mum, moving about, probably getting towels from the airing cupboard. It brought me back to reality and I gently and reluctantly eased her away from me. "Enough, Emms .... Enough..." I said as kindly as possible, "We can't do this!"

"But, why not, Jay? I want to ... and I know that you want to as well." She reached down and lightly touched the bulge in my trousers. I flicked her hand away.

"Oh Christ, Emms! I'm your brother ... I'm supposed to look out for you, protect you .... I would be bloody furious if I thought that some guy was taking advantage of you ... I can't do that same thing myself, now can I?"

"OK," she said quietly. I turned her face to mine and looked deeply into her eyes. She wasn't crying, and strangely she didn't look particularly upset or angry. "I can wait ... I don't want to ... but I will." She turned and started for the door then stopped. "I'm glad you would be jealous if I went with another man," she said, "But I won't ... I'll wait for you!" She turned back and went inside.

I walked down the garden and sat on a tree stump near the compost heap for a long time and smoked two more cigarettes. I had come very close to going too far with Emma for the second time, if it happened again I was not sure that I would be able or want to stop. I was being totally duplicitous, I was already having a sexual relationship with my own mother, but Gwen was an adult and we both knew what we were getting into. Somehow I still felt very protective towards Emma, but perhaps I was being unfair to her ... she really was no longer a child, she was a woman grown, I just couldn't see her that way, which was ridiculous as I was still inflicted with the rock hard erection that she had provoked and which would not go away whilst I continued to think about her as an object of my desire.


Sunday I left Gwen and Emma still sound asleep at home and rode over to the garden centre on my Vespa about seven o'clock. It was my turn to do the Sunday watering and check the greenhouses which would fill in time before going over to Caroline's house to get on with her hedging; I didn't want to arrive too early on Sunday morning and disturb her or her neighbours.

When I got to Bishopsdown the BMW was parked in the garage but there was no sign of Caroline's other car the Lotus Elan; the house seemed to be empty, I guessed that she had gone out or maybe even returned to London. I parked by moped in the drive and let myself into the rear garden, unlocked the shed and got out my tools. The ground had been well manured and with the heavy rain during the night the soil would be soft and it should be fairly easy to dig the planting holes.

I laid out the thirty-five young trees spaced along the length of the prepared border and then started to plant them in starting in the centre and working outwards to ensure the correct spacing. Caroline and I had chosen a mixture of green and golden Leylandii trees to be planted alternatively which would give an attractive rippled effect to the hedge.

The young plants were only about a yard high but would grow at a rate of about three feet a year, the golden variety becoming quite bushy and filling out the spaces between the greens to form a dense screen. Used as a boundary hedge between houses it was prohibited for the height to exceed eight feet and so the trees would need to be topped regularly to keep the height down and give a nice even appearance, I would probably send someone round to attend to that in October and again in early spring.

The first half a dozen trees had been planted in when I heard the roar of the Lotus Elan engine as it pulled into the drive. The door slammed and I guessed that Caroline had gone into the house. About fifteen minutes later she open the French doors and came out. As usual she looked really sexy, she was one of those women who could probably wear an old sack and still look tasty and fashionable. That morning she was wearing a very trendy, pink and white, expensive jogger suit and equally up-market designer trainers, her make-up had been done and her hair was pulled back and tied loosely into a pony tail which bobbed tantalizingly as she walked towards me.

Her hand suddenly flew up to her face. "Oh Christ, Jamie! What the hell is that stink?"

I laughed out loud, she looked both funny and cute standing there holding her nose, her face screwed up in disgust. "It's OK, that is just horse manure. The soil here is so dry and lacking in nutrients that we will probably need to put down an organic fertilizer in most planting areas."

"Oh bloody hell, that is so disgusting!" She started to smile though, "I was going to bring you a coffee but you had better come into the house, I'm not staying out here...." She turned and started back towards the house, "Just don't bring that smell in with you!" Without trying to we had lapsed into a sort of friendly-come-business relationship, perhaps because she was quite young herself.

I followed her back to the French doors. She had obviously learned from the previous days experience and had spread a couple of old dustcovers on the floor of the room nearest the doors and over one of the two chairs standing either side of the coffee table.
I was not in the least offended. Gardening can be dirty work and I would not trail mud into my own house either. I kicked off my rubber boots, stepped inside and sat down on the covered chair. She returned with two cups of steaming black coffee and sat opposite me.

"I am sorry about the smell, it will go away in a few days.... I promise. I suppose I should have warned you yesterday."

She laughed, smiled, and then reached into her pocket and came out with a small, mother of pearl and silver cigarette case. She took one for herself and passed one to me, leaning forward and graced me with a view of her delightful cleavage as I lit it for her. We sat and talked for maybe ten minutes whilst we drank our coffees until I heard a car pull into the drive and a familiar voice calling to me.

"That is Becca Hill, the artist," I said, "Shall I bring her round to meet you?" Even as I said it Becca wandered tentatively around the corner of the house but had not yet spotted us sitting in the open French doors. "Over here Becca," I called.

"I can only stop for a short time, I have just brought you the coloured drawings...." Becca started and then realised that I was not alone. "Oh, sorry..." she smiled sweetly at Caroline and extended her hand, "I'm Rebecca Hill."

I introduced her properly to Caroline and gave her my chair so that they could sit side by side to look at her sketchbook whilst I stood looking over their shoulders. I was very impressed with her work, she had matched her artist's impressions almost perfectly to the plans and her rendering of the floral displays was excellent. She had prepared two colour washes of the proposed garden as seen from the house, where we were seated, one in early summer and the other an impression of the view in autumn.

I could see that Caroline was pleased. Actually she appeared closer to excited and enthusiastic, rather like a child who had been given a first picture book of a favourite story.

"These are really lovely, Mrs. Hill ..... may I keep them ..... if you put a price on them now I will write you a cheque immediately?"

Becca seemed a little taken aback by Caroline's gushing enthusiasm and her offer of an immediate purchase and glanced at me for guidance. I smiled and nodded for her to go ahead.

"These are not real paintings... just coloured wash sketches," Becca told her. "But if you really want them .... I will put them in mounts and Jamie can bring them back to you," she paused, then added with typical open honesty that I had come to expect from her, "but I really am not sure about how much I should charge you...they really did not take me that long to do."

Caroline was already pulling her cheque book from her briefcase, "Should we say fifty pounds...each?"

She wrote out the cheque and handed it to Becca, we sat for a short time and discussed small changes to the planting plans and Becca promised to have the signed and mounted sketches back to her when she came down again next week-end. I walked her back to her car.

"Bloody hell, Jamie darling!" she whispered as we stood by the old Beetle, "A hundred pounds! That is ten times more than the figure I had in mind.... That is an average man's week's wages!"

"I think it is well deserved," I told her, "Just make sure that you take photographs before bringing them back, you should start a portfolio, and I would like copies for my project file as well." She was really happy and excited not just about the money but mainly that her work was valued and appreciated. We were not overlooked and so we shared a soft long kiss before she drove away and I went back to work planting in the hedge.

Caroline came out to see me again just before mid-day to tell me that she was leaving to return to London. "I may be down one day during the week," she told me as we walked out to her car. She was taking the BMW and so she obviously left the Lotus here at the house most of the time, I had keys to her garage but I had never bothered to go in there. She gave me a light peck on the cheek and then the electric window hissed closed and she glided away, the big car almost silent.

By the time that I had finished planting out the trees, cleared up and locked my tools away in her shed it was dusk and so I made sure that the premises were secure and then rode home.

Gwen and Emma were spending the evening with Maggie and so I took a shower, made myself my favourite supper of Welsh Rarebit, topped with chestnut mushrooms and crisp streaky bacon, washed down with a tumbler of scotch, and then took a second drink up to my room and sprawled out on my bed, put on my headphones and listened to CDs of Handel and Mozart. I must have been tired; by the time the girls got home I must have been sound asleep because I awoke in the morning still in my dressing gown, but Gwen had obviously been into my room and covered me with my duvet and I could faintly taste her lipstick on the corner of my mouth.


Monday morning I was about early as Emma had the day off work and had arranged to go riding with Janice Copman; I had agreed to drop her off at the stables by eight o'clock on my way to work. I made breakfasts for us and took Gwen a cup of tea up to her bedroom; she was not going into the hospital until mid-day and would get her own breakfast when she was ready, it was her last week on ward duties and she had drawn the middle shift.

Emma was in a good mood and looking forward to her day out; she looked great in her new riding gear, the tight breeches and knee boots accented her slim figure and flat arse and she had put on a beige and sky-blue, Toggi designer polo shirt and her new quilted Barbour riding jacket. Her hair was tied back into a pony tail and then twisted and tied double with a plain black ribbon into a club. She was eager to go and by the time I came out she was already sitting in the car with her sports bag containing a change of clothes and her riding hat on her lap.

Janice met us in the car park, she was wearing her usual skin tight grey breeches and a dark blue polo shirt with the stable logo embroidered on the breast. She had obviously already been exercising horses that morning as her face was flushed and she gave off a slight odour of horse sweat and saddle soap when she leaned in close to gives me a light kiss on the lips. It was not an unpleasant smell at any time but on Janice it was decidedly erotic. I enjoyed being around horses and did not have a city boy's sensitivity to the smell of horse sweat.

"How are you getting home tonight?" I asked Emma.

"I'll drop her off," Janice replied, "It may be late as we are planning on going for a drink and something to eat this evening. I don't suppose you would want to join us?"

"Oh yes, Jay....please do." Emma pleaded. "You could pick us up and then Jan wouldn't need to borrow the stables Land Rover...."

"OK, why not? I guess that means that I shall be paying for supper as well, does it?" I laughed, "I will collect the pair of you from here about seven, OK? That will give me time to go home and shower and change."

"You can always have a shower here," Janice remarked, really casually. She was standing very close against me and furtively squeezed my buttock, hard, without Emma noticing. I was unlikely to have forgotten taking a shower at Philippa's house with Jan a few weeks earlier, and she was teasing me, knowing that I couldn't retort with Emma present. I decided to call her bluff.

"I might take you up on that; if you will join me....?"

"If you two are going to flirt and talk dirty, I'm going to go and talk to the horses." Emma put in laughing. It was really strange, she could be unreasonably jealous sometimes if I just glanced at a woman, and just recently she had come on to me herself really strongly, but at times she seemed to actively encourage me to get together with Janice. I had long ago decided that the ways of teenage girls were far too complicated for my simple man's brain. She turned and still chuckling started to walk towards the stable block, I couldn't help myself watching her tight flat arse in those breeches; not as exciting or roundly active as Janice's but still alluring. I seriously needed to stop thinking about my sister that way.

"I had better go," I told Janice, "I need to make some amendments to the plans of a job that I'm working on..... " Then it suddenly dawned on me, "Oh Blast! I REALLY do need to go, Jan, I've left my drawings at home and need to circle around and fetch them... see you tonight, OK?"

She reached up and kissed me on the mouth holding my lips to hers for several long seconds. She giggled against my ear, "You can't bring your sister along every time you take me out, you know. Sooner or later we are going to be alone and I intend collecting that shag that you owe me, Jamie Riley!"



By the time that I got back home Gwen was up, dressed in her nursing uniform, and sitting in the kitchen with coffee and toast. I drew her to me and we kissed, softly at first and then longer and more intensely our mouths urgently seeking to catch-up for the days she had been away.

"Have you got time to stop for a coffee with me, my darling?" She asked me when we parted.

"Always," I replied. I picked up my forgotten plans from the kitchen table, "I will just put these in the car before I forget them again. I don't need to be anywhere urgently; I was planning to have a drive round and visit several of the outside contract jobs this morning to check on progress."

We took our drinks through to the sitting room and sat very close, my arm around her shoulders and talked whilst we drank our coffees and smoked a cigarette, catching up on the little snippets of personal news we had missed telling each other. It was really good just to have some personal time together if only for a brief period. After a while Gwen stood up and took the coffee cups through to the kitchen and I followed her, catching up as she placed the crockery in the sink, pressing her against the unit and running my hands down the crisp cotton of her freshly pressed uniform from shoulders to her waist and finally resting on the thighs. I really had a seriously hard job keeping my hands off of her when we were together.

"God, but you are sexy in this uniform," I laughed against her ear as I nuzzled into her neck, the softness of her pony tail brushing against my cheek. Just being with her had given me a hard-on and my erection was pressed hard against her buttocks; she must her felt it as she wriggled slightly against it, teasingly.

"You had better make the most of it," she smiled, "This week will probably be the last time I wear uniform every day. Once I start the teaching job I won't need to except for clinical sessions with students."

"Then I had better make sure that I live out my fantasies now." I chuckled turning her round to face me and cupping my hands over her breasts, smoothly encased in that starched cotton shell. I ground my erection against her, drawing out a deep, lusty moan, "Let's go upstairs and explore my uniform fetish...."

"I thought .... I thought you need to go to work...?" she panted softly between kisses.

"Not as much as I need to make love to you in that uniform!"

I led her up the staircase, stopping every few risers to kiss or nuzzle at each other until we finally found her bedroom. She came back into my arms and I danced her around the room both of us giggling into each others mouths as we alternatively kissed and laughed just with the joy of what we were doing.

When we finally came to a standstill Gwen reached out and grasped my shirt, flicking the top buttons open and pulling it off over my head and then ran her hands gently over my bare torso.

"How did I get to have such a strong, handsome son?" she chuckled, then pulled me to her so that I could feel her breasts against my bare chest, the fabric of the uniform crisp and starchy but not hiding the soft firmness of her tits.

I fumbled with my belt and then pushed and kicked until I was free of my trousers and socks and my erection was only lightly restrained by the fabric of my shorts and was throbbing against her stomach as we clung to each other and sank into another long kiss, our tongues mingling and twisting in their passion fuelled dance.

When we broke apart she reached up and started to unbutton the front of the dark blue uniform, starting at the bottom. I brought my hands up to cover hers and re-buttoned all but the fastenings below the waist but removed her elasticated belt with the silver buckle that I had bought for her at Christmas.

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