tagIncest/TabooBlue Stocking House Ch. 01

Blue Stocking House Ch. 01

byjon.hayworth©

blue•stock•ing

(ˈbluˌstɒk ɪŋ)
n.


a woman with considerable literary or intellectual ability or interest.

[1780–90; orig., a member of a mid-18th-century London literary circle that included some women (so called from the blue stockings worn by a male participant)]

Random House Kernerman Webster's College Dictionary, (c) 2010 K Dictionaries Ltd. Copyright 2005, 1997, 1991 by Random House, Inc. All rights reserved.

 

 

Chapter One


It was then that I lost control. Somehow he rolled over me. I was pinned below him. His hard prick thrusting into my throat. I was choking. His cock seemed to be growing in size, filling my mouth. I knew all could do was swallow and try to breathe. He thrust deeper into me, his pubic bone smashing into my nose, I thought I could taste my own blood. His balls on my chin. I had gone too far, testing him beyond the bounds of a young man's self-control. If I lived I would never forget this night.

Sometimes you spend an eternity looking for something and then you realise it has been right there in plain sight all along. So it was for me.

I have always been attracted to older women, but hooking up with an older woman has usually been more difficult. When a twenty-four year old tries to date a woman twice his age, (in my experience), the woman rarely seems to take the approach seriously. Maybe I should be more thick-skinned and accept rejection, but I am thin skinned, every time it happens to me it hurts.

This tale starts the evening that a work colleague laughed when I tried to date her. Wendy was always laughing and joking, a tall willowy woman with a firm figure who had been widowed the year before. Last week for the first-time since widowhood she had come to a works barbecue. After a couple of drinks I plucked up courage to ask her out for a meal. She looked at me for a long moment then said with a tone of laughter in her voice, "No I'm not a cradle snatcher, I don't date boys." Later I saw her with some other women looking over at me and laughing. Embarrassed I slunk away, not just from them but away from the event.

When I got home I was near to tears. Aunt Adele, who is not really my aunt or anyone else's aunt, but is in fact my mothers cousin saw me on the stairs. I could not bare to hear her wittering on, in her awful gushing voice. I caught a glimpse of Therese, I avoided her too, what would she know of how I felt. I averted my face and scuttled quickly to my room. I had better explain, I live in a houseful of women. My grandmother on my mother's side, my mother, Aunt Adele, my two sisters, and Therese another cousin who is a recent addition to our ménage. Therese is a nun who for some reason, I have not been able to discover has left the convent after twenty-five years – oh yes and she is another of mother's cousins. She no longer wears her habit.

I'd better explain, apart from myself and grandma everyone who lives in this house is an academic. We live in a university town, our lives seem to revolve round the women's college, inappropriately named St Jude's. The women in this house are all involved in a feminist campaign to change the name of this hundred and fifty year old college to something more fitting. A female name, the favoured name being Mary Magdalene College, because according to mother and her cronies there is ample evidence that Mary M was Jesus wife. Heady stuff and loads of theology – not unexpected as mother was head of the Theology department, she also taught Women's Studies. Adele taught Canon Law as it relates to women. Therese the ex-nun, was a philosopher and at present works in the university library. My two sisters were both students, one an undergraduate the other a postgraduate research student. My Grandmother is a writer. Weirdly neither mother nor Grandmother saw the need to involve a man, so there was no father – no grandfather, although presumably at some time there were men. At times I felt that I was the token man, how I survived I do not know.

When Joe rushed into the house it was obvious to anyone, who saw him that he was upset. I tried to speak to him but through his grief he neither saw nor heard me. I followed him up the stairs. I was still climbing the stairs behind him, when his bedroom door crashed shut. Quietly I opened the door. Joe looked like a small boy, lying face down on his bed drumming the mattress with his fists, his body heaving with his half choked sobs.

"Joe do you want to talk about it."

No reply. I could not leave him alone, whether he knew it or not, I knew that he needed someone.



I sat myself on the bed beside him. He did not move away when I gently lay a hand on his shoulder. "Joe if you want to talk, I will listen."

What the hell would a nun know about how I felt. "Therese its not something I want to talk about."

"Joe sometimes talking is what helps no matter to who you talk. One thing you should know, is talking to me is whatever you say will not be shared with anyone else."

"I thought that was when I talked to a priest, anyway you're not even a nun any more – you've been defrocked or whatever."

"I laughed. Defrocked! No that is what they do to priests, to be honest I don't think there is an equivalent word for a nun who has left her order. De-habited might be a good one."

This made Joe laugh - "Like uninhabited!" He said laughing. "No one living in you Therese."

Living in me – with me – penetrating me. The stuff of my dreams – my obsession. "No Joe, there is no one for me."

"I guess that makes us two lonely people Therese. No one for me and no one for you."

"Is that why you are so upset?"

"I don't want to discuss it." His body tightened, his voice clipped, his shoulder stiffened.

"Joe if you don't want to talk I will just sit with you." To be honest I liked the feel of his firm body beneath the palm of my hand.

Joe wriggled getting himself comfortable. "OK I'll talk this is confidential right?"

"Of course it is – I promise I'll tell nobody. Tell you what I'll start you off. The way you were sobbing either your dog has died, a close family member is dead or near death or it is a matter of the heart."

Joe gave a half laugh. "Not quite the heart Therese more like sex. Do you want to carry on – I mean you being a nun an all that."

"Ex-nun, I've been de habited remember. And for your information even nuns know what sex is, thinking too much about sex results in being kicked out of the order – being de habited!"

"Is that what happened to you?" Joe asked his eyes widening - It is strange how as soon as sex is mentioned men seem to forget all else.

I began to massage his shoulder blades, "Relax Joe, let me massage all the negative tension out of your body." He did not move when I knelt on the bed and began massaging his shoulder blades. "Is that nice?"

"mmm yea, Now Therese tell me what happened to you."

"We are talking about you not me – we'll talk about me later if you want."

"OK I went to a works barbecue today. And I tried to chat-up a woman I work with."

"So she rejected you."

"Yes."

"That's no big deal so I guess there is more."

"It was afterwards, she went over with a group of other women and told them all. I know because they kept looking at me and laughing."

"Am I being dim, what was so funny."

"Ah now we get to the embarrassing bit. See Therese I have this thing for older women, she, this woman Wendy is about the same age as mother."

"Lucky woman! And she rejected you! She must need her head testing." I said trying to keep the envy from my voice. I untucked his shirt continuing the massage with my hands in direct contact his skin. Joe may not have known where this massage was going but I had a very good idea.

"She said she wasn't a cradle snatcher."

"Joe don't fret, you can have your choice of women. Just look around this house of middle-aged women, each of us a mass of rampant hormones. Well maybe you shouldn't with your mother, your grandmother or your sisters. That still leaves me and Adele." Truth to be told I was certain if the opportunity arose his mother would have dragged him to her bed. As I talked to Joe, listening to him, offering him reassurance that he was attractive to older women, specifically to me.

"I didn't think women talked about sex like that."

"Oh Joe if women didn't think about sex how would the human race procreate? And most of the time when women think about sex it is not about babies and procreation, but about sex as a recreation activity."

"Shit you mean you, mum, aunt Adele even my sisters and granny have talked about sex and the men they fancy."

At the same time, during this conversation, I offered a prayer of thanksgiving to our Lord. I know many people would be scandalised by this.

"Therese surely as an ex-nun you must believe that those kind of thoughts are sinful. Don't you feel any guilt?"

"No Joe why should I? I am who I am. I know there are people who would expect me to feel penitent and guilty. My reply to you and to them is why should I feel guilty. Oh I know all the stuff about the sin of lust. Well just for a moment try thinking about it another way.

"The lord created us, each and everyone. He gave us feet, legs fingers, hands, arms, bodies, heads and minds. He created us with a sex drive and I believe repressing that drive is a denial of our lord. It is on a par with being given a gift and returning it to the giver without even saying thank-you. I call that attitude downright ungrateful!"

"I'd never thought of that. So what you say is there is no sin in seeing, meeting someone and wanting to have sex with them?

"None at all. Your drive to lust for a woman. The ability of the your mind and your body to integrate giving you an erection, I believe is a gift which was given to you by the creator – God."

By now my massage had travelled down his torso. "Loosen your belt Joe." I smiled watching Joe lift himself as he obeyed me while still acting coy about revealing his erection. I felt no such inhibitions no sooner was he lying down again than I pulled his pants down to reveal his taught young buttocks. From massaging his buttocks to rolling him over was the work of seconds. Now I could admire his firm young cock. "Kiss me Joe".

I needed no more prompting when Therese said, kiss me Joe. I grasped her shoulders and pulled her down to me. Our lips met. My tongue forced her teeth apart and our tongues met. My hands slipped inside her top. Undoing her bra took seconds. We broke the kiss and I removed the sweatshirt she was wearing, followed by her bra. "Let me look at you."

"They are saggy old woman's boobs," Therese replied.

"I think they are lovely – let me suck them." I answered, my hands cupped a boob laying in each, to be honest each felt heavier than they appeared. As I jiggled her mammaries each sprang to life, flat nipples hardening, enlarging. Therese leaned toward me, offering me her left breast. Gently I latched on to her nipple, sucking it and the areola into my mouth. My tongue curled around caressing and exploring her nipple.

Tasting her saltiness, at that moment, incongruously, I was struck by the truth of the phrase, "you are what you eat," I could taste a trace of garlic. Olive oil, tarragon, ginger, peppers and garlic formed the basis of our diet swilled down with either fresh brewed coffee or red wine. Therese was playing with my cock, her hand wrapped around it moving very slowly – stimulating but not carrying me too fast towards ejaculation. I grasped her wrist, releasing her nipple.

"Therese I want you naked!"

"I like that, the direct approach." Therese pulled away from me. She stood up and it seemed a single magical movement, a shimmer of light, then her skirt and her panties were no more than a multi-coloured pool of cloth around her ankles. "Come on big boy! What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. Get your kit off now." She was tugging the ankles of my pants. I lifted my hips to co-operate and in a few more moments both of us were naked.

My hand pushed between her thighs. I wanted access to her. My throbbing cock communicating the urgency of my need.

"Easy tiger," Therese said with graceful hip wiggle she swerved away leaving me empty handed. "Lovemaking is to be enjoyed not rushed like a race."

Maybe I looked a bit blank. "Joe I am flattered that the sight of my body appears to drive you wild with desire, but I want us both to enjoy this, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"So we will take this slowly. Tell me what you would like me to do, anything except penetration. Then I'll tell you what I want and then we will do it."

"Sounds crazy," I said. "But I'll give it a go."

"OK Joe you start."

I was sort of tongue tied, unsure exactly what Therese meant. "I'm not too good at this you go first."

"OK big boy. I want to hold you in my arms, then lay you on the bed. Look at your body. Kiss your fingers work along your hands, up your arms with Butterfly Kisses. Kiss your chest, I am glad it is not too hairy. Then go down south until I have your cock in my mouth and your balls cupped in my hands. The only question left is do I let you cum – or do I stop when you are on the edge.

"Your turn!"

"If you let me cum in your mouth it would be nice – don't worry I'll be rock hard again. I will kiss your fingers, your hands, your arms. Suckle on your nipples until you are writhing with desire. Then turn you on your stomach. First I will kiss your feet. Lick my way up your legs until I reach your buttocks. Turn you over again. Kiss your stomach while I palm your mons, apply more pressure clamping you to the bed as your hips begin to move. Finally tongue you to an orgasm. Once you have cum I will screw you."

"Yes please," Therese said as she wrapped her arms around me and we kissed. Tongues fencing, lips sealed, teeth clashing. Eventually we surfaced for air. "Now I want to feast my eyes on your body."

"It's not all that great." I felt as though I was blushing, her grey/blue eyes were scoping me like a laxer. "I don't work out or anything."

"Joe you are being modest, you're a reasonably active young man. Your not carrying any flab or middle-aged spread. To an old lady like me your an Adonis. Look at my body – saggy breasts, bulging tum."

"It turns me on." I interjected.

"I don't know why."

"It does – look at my cock and you can see that."

"Sssshushh You turn me on too." She lifted my hand to her mouth and started kissing my fingers, then my hand then the inside of my forearm up to my elbow. As I expected, it tickled but did nothing for me. She got on the bed kneeling astride of my legs and kissed the fingers of my other hand, then my hand and up my forearm to the elbow. As she worked up the inside of my upper arm her nipples brushed lightly over my abdomen, my cock responded with a twitch. When she reached my armpit she swapped arms. Then she began kissing my chest, her breasts kept brushing against my cock. My stomach muscles began knotting in eager anticipation. As she slowly kissed and licked down my body, the pressure built. I feared that any moment I might prematurely ejaculate.

She cupped my balls in her hands, sucked my cock into her mouth. It was warm and moist. I was now desperate to cum, all other thought had left my mind. Holding her head I rolled over, forcing her under me. Now it was me in control. Except in reality I was out of control. I was driving my cock into her. Fucking her mouth in the same way as I would fuck a pussy, except this was way more erotic.

I could feel, sense the tip of my cock hitting her epiglotis. She was gagging her hands pushing against my hips. Her retching trying to eject my cock. It made no difference. Her protests only served to raise the level of my excitement. My abdomen smashed repeatedly into her face as I continued fucking her mouth until I my balls tightened, then pulsated as my jizzm spurted into her mouth.

When I tried to pull away, but she held onto me until my cock had softened. "Sorry!" I said, "I am so sorry I shouldn't have done that to you."

It was embarrassing she was so understanding, so forgiving, I'd just raped her mouth and she said. "Joe don't worry it was my fault I worked you up so much that you lost control."

"Its not right. Look at the mess I have made. Your nose is bleeding."

"I know get me a tissue." Tentatively she touched the bridge of her nose pinching it. "Its not broken. Stay here I'm going to have a wash, be here when I get back."

When she returned the bleeding had stopped, her face glowed with that innocent soap and water look, devoid of cosmetics or lotions. Although her lips looked bruised and there were traces of bruising around her eyes.

Before I could speak she said. "Now Joe put away the guilt. I worked you up and you responded. I am flattered you have got another hard-on, now I want a long slow screw."

It had been a wonderful sensation completely out of control. When he rolled over on top of me I was helpless. Pinned below him I was his, he could do as he wished with me. I tried to push him off but he was too strong. His hard prick thrusting into my throat. I was choking. His cock seemed to be growing in size, filling my mouth. I knew all could do was swallow and try to breathe. He thrust deeper into me, his pubic bone smashing into my nose, I thought I could taste my own blood. His balls on my chin. I could not breathe knowing I might die choking on his cock excited me, simultaneously I felt an adrenaline rush, and an earth moving simultaneous orgasm. In a flash I suddenly understood the meaning of the term 'cum slut' – I was a cum slut!

"Joe screw me, I want a long slow screw."

When I said a long slow screw, I had envisaged slow, gentle and tender. Joe was not on the same page of the script. He pulled me onto the bed, his lips on my bruised lips, his arms around me. Then I was lying below him – h e parted my legs, lifted me. My legs were over his shoulders, I felt exposed and vulnerable. Then I felt myself opening as he slid his cock into me. It was then I realised, "Joe are you using a rubber?"

Joe seemed to freeze, half in me. "No. No I don't have one."

I couldn't stop him now, it wouldn't have been fair to him and to be honest I was driven by my own lust. "Joe carry on, screw me but please pull out before you cum. I don't want to get pregnant." I saw a momentary look of surprise flicker across Joe's face.

Joe pushed into me. "Come on big boy, I growled at him." My rampant lust surprised me. "Ram it in me ... Fuck me stupid ... I want to feel earth shattering cums - but don't cum in me." I added urgently.

What a time to mention condoms and pregnancy, at the very moment I'm entering her. The tip of my cock was just parting her coral lips. "Pull out before you cum," she said, 'whatever' I think. As sink my cock into her warm wet pussy. God the woman is some slut her cunt is juicy and wet – she obviously had an orgasm when I fucked her mouth. Realising this. I feel a bit better about myself, the way I lost control and used her.

"Come on Big Boy ... Ram it into me." I need no more urging. I bang my cock into her then draw back until the whole length is out the tip just parting her lips then assisted by gravity slam back into her. Her hips move with me. I don't stop. Her vagina tightens, ripples, flushes warm and wet. She has cum again. My balls, heavy with incipient jizzm slap against her buttocks, If I keep going I will come in her.

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