Ilka's Place Pt. 07

I was certainly feeling myself to be in a good place; in fact, I had, in my young life, never been happier. Ilka and Janice were fifty percent of my happiness, and Bridget and Maryanne were the other half.

I guess I'm a more sexual guy than most. Some dudes go through college, marry, settle down to a business career, have kids, and sex is just one of the many parts of their lives. Others stay single and have one-nighters or have live-in partners but sex becomes perfunctory and sublimated to other parts of their lives such as keeping dogs, or restoring classic cars, or taking vacations around the world.

As for me, it seems like there's always some sexual angle to everything I think and do. I think when I'm around other people (I know this sounds crazy) they pick up on my sexual aura. Like, they feel my animus, to use an uncommon word. Like, part of me invisibly reaches out to touch others in a warm, sexual way.

To be sure, "Bridget" was certainly conceived out of my sexual pool.

I continued to sleep with Ilka as her devoted daughter (at least I thought that was our relationship). However, one weekend morning after she'd vibrated me to heaven, she had a request.

"Bridget, you know I'm very nice to you, yes? I give you everything you want, except maybe not a Cadillac."

We both laughed.

"But Ilka is not just old mama or gramma. Ilka like sex too, like a real woman, not just everybody barber. I know I am not attractive young lady like Maryanne, but maybe you help me a little?"

OMG, I thought, finally she's going to make me to do her. Jesus.

Laying there in my nightgown, with boobs underneath, I asked, "What do you mean?"

"Oh, I am embarrass a little, but when you not here, sometimes I pleasure myself, you know. But it could be better if daughter helps."

"How?"

"Oh Bridget, I don't want to make you embarrass too."

She looked at me for a reaction. When I didn't dismiss her out of hand, she continued. "Maybe when I use magic vibrator, or just my fingers, maybe ..... maybe you could suck on nipples?"

"Like I'm Bridget, your baby?"

We both laughed, again.

She pulled a big, floppy tit out of her nightgown and showed me her very large nipple and areola. It was both repulsive and somehow beckoning. Part of me wanted to see if I could get her to explode, to finally reveal her sexual side, which she apparently had been keeping from me -- maybe because she'd been afraid she'd scare me away.

I reached over to touch her nipple.

"Oh, Bridget, you don't know how good makes me feel," said Ilka with a softer voice than usual.

I twisted her nipple a little and Ilka closed her eyes in pleasure.

She quickly found where she'd left the vibrator. Slipping under the covers, she proceeded to navigate the device "down there." I could faintly hear its delightful humming sound as she maneuvered it into her sensitive spots.

I slithered across the bedsheets to her still-proffered tit, and held some of it in my hand as I brought my mouth to her warm nipple. I began running my lips all around it."

"Suck nipple," Ilka said stoutly, "suck it good, like good girl."

I not only did that but reached into her gown to eventually find her other nipple and played with it too.

Ilka closed her eyes and soon began writhing and was obviously going for broke.

"Bite, gentle bite," she commanded. "Good bite."

Which I did.

Within seconds, she came. Now I saw momma for all she was, a full-fledged older woman, still loving sex just like the rest of us.

She was breathing heavily with eyes closed for what seemed to be a minute.

Despite myself, this whole episode so inflamed me that I grabbed the vibrator and put myself over the edge one more time, surprising myself.

"Mother, daughter, very much enjoyed," said Ilka as she watched me come again.

As the days passed, Ilka didn't mention our little bedtime adventure. But I knew that we'd passed into a new zone. I knew, though, that I didn't want to fuck her and that I wouldn't fuck her. Maybe she used a dildo, too?

Ilka couldn't conceive of her own daughter fucking her, could she? Gracious be.

The day finally arrived when Maryanne and I had our dinner/movie date. We both were quite excited by this, almost as though it was a high school date. She said the whole evening was on her, since she made a lot more money than my own "allowance" from Ilka. In fact, Maryanne was running the entire show, picking the venues and using her car.

After Ilka's reluctant "have a good time, munchkin," I arrived at Maryanne's dressed in a nice blue shirt and corduroy trousers (with sexy panties underneath, of course). My hair was now long enough so I could pull it back into a ponytail.

Maryanne greeted me with a hug and kiss. She was modestly attired in a light cotton dress that fell to her knees, neither very loose or very tight -- with her fine boots underneath. What really drew my gaze was her hair, which she (or a hairdresser) had fashioned into a very nicely tossed, somewhat curled style coming down just beyond her shoulders. My guess was that this was the best she'd looked since she left the convent.

She was even wearing some subtle lipstick and mascara.

"Brett, Brett," she said, "I love the way you look! Are we going to enjoy ourselves, or what? Isn't this great?"

"Yes, very great," I said, not able to match her enthusiasm. After all, I'm a guy -- at least at the moment.

"Now, if I were to guess," she said, "you're wearing panties and a bra underneath. An undercover Bridget."

"Oh well," I said, "you've got it half right -- the panties."

"That's sad. Don't you want to have a bra on too?"

What ensued was right out of a wet dream. She went to look for one, returning with a filmy style which wouldn't poke up under my shirt. There I was, somewhat embarrassed, slipping into it -- and Maryanne actually hooked it in back. It was quite arousing to wear it, to say the least.

Now, I felt like I was half Brett and half Bridget. I would have drawn the line if she'd wanted to apply mascara .....

The first half of the evening was at a surf and turf restaurant, with Maryanne insisting I try the lobster. She had a shrimp salad. Add to that some sweet wine, and we were both pleased pink. She was telling me about her workplace and some of her co-workers, including a couple guys who'd been making passes.

"They're just rather uncouth. Their pickup lines are so funny -- I have to work hard not to laugh," she confessed. "And one of them's married."

I decided not to tell her about Ilka's masturbation.

"So, Brett, how does the bra feel? It's actually one of my favorites."

"Very sexy. I like the feel. I was afraid someone would detect it when we walked in, but they were mostly looking at you. You look so beautiful tonight."

"Oh, thank you. I just want to start stretching my boundaries and start being a full woman."

"Well, you are."

After we left our tip, went outside, and got into her Mini Cooper, I pulled out a doobie (some weed I'd gotten from Janice) and for the second time in her life, she inhaled some of its relaxing smoke. I tell you, we were getting down .... we were bosom buddies.

The movie was also her pick. We arrived at one of the city's two art theaters, parked in the nearby parking structure, and purchased tickets for "Annie and Amelia." Of course, this was going to be a chick flick, but what the heck.

We went in and sat toward the back.

"Got great reviews," she said.

In the movie, Amelia was an American exchange student spending her junior year abroad at a French university. She was a very studious math major, but also very pretty. To this point, the film made it clear, she had little experience with sex.

I could see how Maryanne could love this film.

Amelia began dating an earnest male math student, but not seriously. A kiss or two.

Then, one day she was out walking in a park when she recognized a French student from the university named, of course, Annie. Annie was a literature student, and contrary to that stereotype, was unconventional, forward, and had an obvious masculinity running through her face and body. Her hair was short -- but not man short.

The two begin palling around a lot, and one weekend they fell happily in bed with each other. Of course, such a story can't be Cinderella-perfect, and Amelia began to feel guilty when her somewhat-boyfriend discovered the relationship.

However, she got over that, and the movie ends happily, with Amelia staying an extra year in France and falling thoroughly in love.

I love movies that end happily, especially sexually happy ...

..

All during the movie, Maryanne and I were holding hands, necking, whispering, and getting aroused when the two women made love.

Afterward, as the credits rolled by and people were leaving the theater, Maryanne and I just sat there, immersed as we were in the wonderful sexuality of the movie.

She reached over and lightly brushed my bra.

"Don't you just wish that you could be Annie to my Amelia?" she asked.

We didn't broach that subject any more before we drove back to her place for a nightcap. It was 10 p.m. I knew Ilka would soon be worrying about me, imagining what Maryanne and I were up to.

Maryanne and I settled down into her soft sofa, and talked about the film. I can talk endlessly about plots.

"Remember what I said in the theater?" she asked. "About being Annie?"

"Yes, certainly. You might've been reading my mind. Or, I could've been Amelia to your Annie."

"Oh, no, I could never be Annie, never!"

"So," I said, "you selected this movie for a reason?"

Maryanne actually blushed a little, and smiled and was silent for a time.

"OK," she said, I need to tell you more about the convent. Don't think for a moment that it was a blazing hothouse of passion, because it wasn't. But there was this sister there, Serena, who distracted me from my religious introspection and observances. I was such a good nun when I came in, with sex the furthest thing from my mind. But Serena had the room next to mine, and she began to occupy my fantasies more and more. She was a very subtle flirt, asking things like, 'Have you had any impure thoughts today?' Just watching her walk down a hallway began to beguile me.

"Brett, dear, I have to admit that I began to pleasure myself at night thinking about her, knowing that only a wall separated us. And she knew exactly what I was thinking and doing, because that was her nature."

"So," I asked, "did anything happen?"

"Between her and me? No. But I learned she had a sexual relationship with another sister, and that became scandalous enough for Serena to be asked to leave. Which she did. And not long after she left, I left too."

"Oh, my god," I said, "now I see so much more of you. And, oh my god, I am just realizing this -- you want me to be a Serena."

"Oh, my god -- on my part," said Maryanne, laughing, "I really hadn't thought of that at all. Really! But maybe a small part of me does want that. Jesus! But you're not Serena, you're Bridget .... "

"Well, this does open up a whole new aspect to our, well, relationship," I said. "Remember when you asked if I would rather be Brett or Bridget, and I leaned toward Bridget, and you were OK with that. Now I could ask you, dear, would YOU rather have me be Brett or Bridget?"

"After the marijuana and the movie, to be perfectly candid, could you be a Bridget for me? I know, this is just like Ilka asking you to be her daughter!"

"Yes, but you're more my type."

"Brett, can you be my project? I know, Janice has shown you so much about looking feminine, but I would like to take you even further into the feminine world. You could be my very own girlfriend."

"A girlfriend with a little something extra, perhaps?"

"Oh yes, yes. Serena with something extra."

With that, we made out for a while, with her caressing my nipples under her bra, and me with my arm around her sexy waist, just itching to work its way down to her female center. But as usual, I didn't force things.

We finally kissed each other goodnight, and I knew she was just as wet down there as I was.

(To be continued. I had no idea this story was going to go on for so long.)