Myfanwy

Getting the drinks made Myfanwy a little more animated. We settled back into our respective chairs and just sat there silently awhile looking at each other and thinking.

Looking at Myfanwy like this when she is so sad is heart breaking for me. It was hard for me not to break down, acquiesce or just melt in tears myself but to do that would be catastrophic for our future if we were to have one.

I'll give you some background.

First our lives are different. I am from Auckland, Myfanwy is from Wellington. I am almost like an only child. Dad's first wife died of breast cancer after having two boys years ago; he remarried and had me. He is a professor of ecology and Mum's a marriage counsellor. Dad was quite old when he had me and there is, like fifteen years between me and my youngest brother. I was pretty much an only child. Dad was my hero growing up and I couldn't have a more loving Mum.

I grew up with Blake. He was just a mate from school but to all intents and purposes he was my surrogate brother. We did everything together.

Dad, when he was young was a bit of a hippy. He actually played lead guitar in a band or two. Before he got married he had been in a long term relationship with a woman who he called the crazy lady; but he was dumped in favour of a smack freak, met his first wife, cleaned up and never looked back.

He did a PHD overseas, spent time in OZ and came back to New Zealand to a position at Auckland University. By the way, his crazy lady died of an overdose. Dad does not like talking about it but feels he dodged a bullet.

Dad was a blues man, Clapton, Hendrix, John Mayall, Muddy Waters and all that. When I was at school I was into drama and stuff. I loved music; Dad had a pile of vinyl which all stopped around 1973. He figured all music after that was derivative of the sixties so he lost interest.

Anyway I got into the vinyl. I loved the Beatles and at some stage I discovered "I am the Walrus" and managed to convince my drama teacher we should link up with the school orchestra and do it. The Drama teacher amazingly agreed so we did it as part of a school concert.

We all got dressed up and I got to sing. "I am the egg man, I am the egg man; I am the walrus. Koo koo ka choo." Guess who got the nickname egg man. Blake was in it as well and he was saddled with Walrus. Ha, we got to be called 'Walrus and the Egg man,' would you believe?

Anyway, egg man stuck to me and muso's and others continued to refer to me as that as sort of a stage name.

Dad was really impressed and suddenly all this stuff came spilling out about his time as a musician, I had never known about. He still had his old Fender Stratocaster stashed in the attic. I knew he also had an acoustic; he would bring that out from time to time.

Blake and I decided we would become musicians. Dad was not too enthusiastic about it at first. He suggested we do bass and drums I suspect he thought he would need a rhythm section so he could come out of retirement.

Blake's parents were bloody wealthy and indulged him a lot and he immediately got a kit. That forced dad's hand. He got me a bass and amp and a few bits and pieces. He didn't give it to me though. He was straight up about it. It wasn't my birthday present or anything like that. He just bought it and said this is was all his but he was lending it to me providing I keep up with my school work. If that flagged he was going to take it all back.

That's How Blake and I became a rhythm section. It wasn't long before we teamed up with some Maori guys and we had a band. We used to practice in a shed Blake's dad owned in an industrial area. We were also co-opted into the school orchestra. Initially it was pretty awful as we were trying to be musical geniuses in a bad way but with the help of Dad and others we used to get a regular supply of paying gigs by time we finished high school.

It was all a bit of a juggle as we had school work and I was involved with basketball, drama and debating. In my final year I was head prefect. I suppose I could have got better grades but I did get into engineering school OK.

Because we use to play weddings and the odd 21^st we ended up with my father's tutelage playing a bit of sixties revival stuff because the oldies liked it; stuff that they could dance and sing to. That meant Soul. We filled it out with a trumpet and sax from the school orchestra. I liked James Brown and Sly and the family stone. I especially liked Larry Graham's bass work so Blake and I decided we would specialize in funk.. Yeah!

In my last year at high school I divested myself of a lot of extra curricula activity to study but that was when I was head prefect and the band was going well so I was still busy.

We had a bit of a following then because we were the school cool dudes. The girls we were with were up for anything. So often after Saturday night gigs we would end up around some one' s house watching porn then we would all experiment .

I thought I was sort of steady with one girl, Becky. Her grandparents had a fizz boat and I used to tag along and get to water ski. At one stage they were all off someplace leaving her mother and I by ourselves. I can't remember what I was doing but I looked up. Her Mother was wearing a green floral bikini and she was sitting on the bank with her legs apart. The bikini had a string top and her boobs were fair straining to break loose. I diverted my eyes quickly elsewhere.

Her tanned legs were well spread, and I couldn't help turning back. My eyes followed her thighs from her knees until ...well, I have this image imprinted on my mind of her bikini bottoms stretched across her private parts with her pubic hair poking out from the edge seams.

I got all embarrassed and looked up. She was smirking at having caught me looking at her. I mumbled about being sorry but she didn't close her legs. I realised later that she must have done it on purpose.

I went around to her place a couple of weeks later to call in on Becky but her Mother was there alone. She said Becky was out with another guy. This was a major downer.

Now her mother was married to a plumber but he never seemed to be around. She must have had Becky bloody young as she was very youthful looking. She was very attractive, and I might say sexy. Her hair was stylish in a blonde cap way. Her name was Madelaine Thomas; my friends and I unkindly called her Mad Tom, after some Shakespearean play for some incomprehensible reason. She was an art teacher at another local school. I bet the boys lusted after her.

As I was a bit upset with her daughter Becky, Madelaine got me to sit in an armchair and have a beer. She seduced me that day and we began a three month long affair that only ended when I left for Uni. I don't think Becky ever knew.

I watched Madelaine as she took a beer out of the fridge and popped the lid off the bottle. She was dressed super casually with only a woolly jumper and a mini skirt. She was in bare feet. "It's been a bit boring this morning, I have just been catching up on my housework,"she remarked.

Madelaine was standing in front of me; my eyes were fixated on her jumper. There were two very large pokies and as she moved they swayed with her breasts like waves to and fro. Madelaine went silent. She could see me staring at her breasts. She silently turned and went and sat on a matching sofa which was arranged the other side of a low wooden coffee table from my armchair.

I took a sip off my beer. For some reason I did not feel embarrassed about her catching me staring at her. In fact I was feeling aroused and wilful. She smiled at me briefly and then with a swift action took hold of the bottom of her jumper and swept it over her head then discarded it onto the carpet. She then sat back and shook two stupendous pendulous breasts. My eyes must have been fair popping out of my head.

They were large and weighty; those large nipples that had been nudging her sweater were now fully exposed in all their glory. Pinkish brown they seemed to have been magnified in my imagination, set against a backdrop of her large Areolae.

Madelaine finally spoke, "You like these don't you?" She sounded breathy. "Come over and sit beside me."

Forgetting my beer I dutifully did as I was told. Once I was sitting beside her she put an arm around me. "You like to kiss?" I reached up puckering and was met by her tongue in return.

With teenage girls you pash; I discovered with mature women you make love slowly and deliberately. My body responded with a deep shudder. My mind was blank and I just let myself be absorbed into the private world Madelaine was taking me.

Madelaine stopped leant back and beckoned me to lie across her with my head in her lap. She stooped over slightly allowing her breast to brush against my cheek. She then took hold of her breast squeezing out her nipple and caressed my lips with it. "You want to be my baby? Do you want to suck?"

There was no asking twice, I opened my mouth, pressed it into her breast and savouring her large nipple on my tongue, I began to suck, I tried to suck as hard as I could. Looking up I noticed her wincing slightly. I pulled back, "Sorry did that hurt?"

"Yes, but it is ok, keep going."

We stayed like this for some time, me playing with her tits. None of the girls I had been with had tits remotely like this.

I would suck one nipple then the other then I started giving her hickeys, red splotches across those soft alabaster hangers. It never crossed my mind as something a husband might object to and Madelaine didn't seem to care.

Madelaine seemed to get uncomfortable and readjusted herself. She lifted my head and I sat up. "I saw you looking up my legs the other week when we skiing." I must admit I coloured a bit when she brought that up. "Would you like a gander at what I have to offer?"

'Offer?' I thought. I was hard and ready to go with the flow.

I was silent, but she would have seen the eagerness in my eyes. Madelaine bunched up her brown miniskirt. She parted those tan legs and at the apex of her smooth thighs was the light blue mound of her panties, wisps of brown pubic hair tantalizingly peeking at the edges. She then then reached down with one hand pulled her panties aside revealing a mass of blonde brown pubic hair with just a crease down the centre giving promise of what it hid.

Bringing her other hand to action, using both hands she drew back her curtain of wiry hair. The gates were open, for the first time I was looking at the meaty folds of moist pink flesh, her ladies private parts.

With one hand she pushed two fingers in drawing the lips apart and there was her vagina, the path that her daughter Becky had come into the world and the path that my now aching cock so wanted to return. "So mister Gynaecologist, what do you think?"

'Think?' I was incapable of thinking. I just grunted stupidly, staring at Madelaine's hole. She stretched her skin, her pee hole making an appearance and then she pinched her hooded appendage at the top stretching it." You know what this is?" I nodded stupidly. "It's my trigger, and don't you forget it."

With that she stood up and slipped her panties off. Dangling them in front of my nose, she took my hand with the other and pulled me up from the kneeling position I had sank to, observing the view of the lifetime.

She then turned. "I think it's time we retired to the bedroom." And there we strode.

Madelaine closed the door unzipped the side of her miniskirt it dropped to the floor and she stepped out and stood straight. There before me was Becky's Mum naked apart from her wedding and engagement ring which was twinkling in the light from the window.

Madelaine was slightly puffy especially around her stomach but otherwise slim. Her hips were narrow leaving her tits a little top heavy. Her body was of a fit mature woman whose waist was yet to thicken out. Her blonde hair cut in her distinctive pixie cap concealed her ears and framed her face. She had a firm face and jaw but her cheek bones and full lips gave it a sensual beauty.

I ceased to look; I was in uncharted territory and overcome with lust like never before. I was conscious of Madelaine crouching before me, unbuttoning my shirt, raising it over my head and discarding it; removing my shoes, one by one; unbuckling my belt, and my fly, slowly and deliberately zipping it down. She peeled my jeans down as I dumbly lifted each leg in turn as she slid them off my legs.

I was left standing in my boxers, my penis was engorged and plainly visible pressing through the fabric. Madelaine slid the boxers down, briefly untangling the fabric caught around my very stiff dick and 'voila,' I am on display.

Another new experience, the first woman I knew of, apart from my Mother, to see me in my naked glory and the first to see my erect dick in broad daylight which was now standing vertical.

The sensation filled my mind, my aching dick so needed relief. Madelaine took it in one hand and with the other guided me to the bed. I fell back and my legs dangling. Madelaine mounted me, like a bike. One leg over, she took my dick and aimed it into the centre of her wild bush then lowered herself, the warmth and the wetness enveloping my cock. I immediately ejaculated. I was actually pumping my sperm into a real woman.

And so began our affair. For three month we would meet always at her house. Sex with Madelaine was never very kinky. Usually we just did it missionary style. Madelaine was actually rather prissy about sex despite the bold seduction. She would blow me from time to time but didn't seem to like it. I think she did it to encourage me to go down on her. I thought I became very adept at that. She was very fussy and it was obviously her favourite thing.

I learnt to love the smell and taste of a woman's sex in that period. I also learnt to hold back so that I didn't prematurely ejaculate. But that first time, that very first time, would be indelibly be printed on my mind.

Although I was benignly her slave I never felt I was abused by this older woman. She was always caring and loving. She would lightly tease me sometimes, once meeting me at the door naked or flashing me as she was preparing me something to eat or drink. Sex was always in the bedroom, there was no thought of coming from behind, no toys and never demonstrative or noisy. Madelaine seem to enjoy our liaisons. She seemed so happy when I was there. She kept smiling at me; I never really new how to take that.

My confidence and skill in sex grew from her tutelage. I went from frantic teenage sex in the dark to lovemaking. I felt I also learnt about women; well through Madelaine's lens. Perhaps it made me more empathic and a little more caring than the average arrogant teen; more grownup.

We ended when I went to Uni. Madelaine cried on our last liaison. We had seemed to have survived without anyone finding out. I only ever met her husband once when Becky had a going away party. He was friendly to me but I just couldn't look him in the eye. I don't think he ever suspected.

I only ever saw Madelaine once after that. It was later in the year when I was back home. I ran into her in the mall and she was plainly pregnant. She had a grin from ear to ear when she saw me. We had a cup of coffee together, she told me not to worry as the baby was not mine. It suddenly dawned on me that I had never asked about contraception and we never used a condom.

I have never been entirely convinced about that. I worried a little that I might get beaten up by a mad plumber with a pipe wrench or then there was the possibly of somebody turning up shouting "Daddy."

Thankfully neither ever happened.

So what does all that say? Well when I arrived at Uni, I was a scholar, a musician and had passed my sex 101. Oh and dad got me a bike since my grades were good enough, a Ducati. I also was given the bass. So I arrived in Christchurch feeling pretty awesome. Blake, being Blake got a Mustang.

Now Blake came from one filthy rich family so he gets this Black Ford Mustang a 2006 V8 Manual. Now musicians and students are supposed to be poor, so he has this mountain bike he gets around Uni in to keep down appearances.

Blake was just a petrol head, he couldn't help himself. When he takes up with a girlfriend, also from the right side of the track, she gets a Mustang, all be it a little older. I always assumed her parents indulged her with it but Blake, the fucker always claimed he bought it for her.

Who has 'his and her Mustangs' for god sakes.

Blake used to delight in sitting behind the drums at our gigs singing 'Sarah' to the tune of Mustang Sally; "Mustang Sarah, Think you better slow that Mustang down." He used to piss the other band members off with it and embarrass Sarah.

I wondered whether he got Sarah to get the Mustang so he could sing that. I would not put it past that fucker to do a crazy thing like that. He used to do shit like that just because he could. What it is to have money; but that is the sort of crazy dude he was.

Blake joined me in Christchurch. He was doing structural engineering; me, environmental engineering. I suppose we could have been campus cowboys but we were not. Blake and I were serious.

We did link up with some guys at Uni and started a covers band but it was all about gigs and pin money and had to fit around study; so we were socially pretty quiet. Blake was already steady with his girlfriend Sarah, from Auckland and she had followed him to Christchurch as well. Blake organised a flat for us right off, so the three of us were living off campus from the start.

Sarah and he were a bit of a phenomenon on campus; both were very tall and striking looking and what with Mustangs and all. They had a group of adoring petrol head friends who used to turn up at our gigs. But Blake and Sarah were never weekend grease monkeys and maintained the cars for a bit of ostentatious cool. Blake had this thing about muscle cars at the time.

I met Myfanwy; it must have been the second week of orientation at the beginning of the first term.

I was sitting behind a computer in the library. I had quickly got in the habit of sitting in around the same area each evening. I got in early over dinner time before the library filled back up for the evening. I had sort of noticed Myfanwy around in the evenings but she was actually quite dowdy. Her hair was not styled well she wore awful glasses and her clothes, well shapeless I guess.

It was this one night, I was sitting there engrossed in my screen and I looked up. Directly opposite was Myfanwy. She looked up at me at the same time; we both grinned and started giggling. Those eyes! The glasses made them bigger but they are so big, blue and expressive; when she smiled stone hearts melted. I was taken with the Myfanwy trait when her face blushed bright pink.

I think I was smitten from the word go. We started flirting and chatting but were told to shut up so we packed up and went to the cafe, study forgotten and our conversation that night settled it.

She was the most intelligent and amusing conversationalist I had ever met. I told her about my plans about combining engineering and ecology and she loved it. She talked about her father and how he took her and her sisters camping around the south island. My dad would take me out from Auckland, the Hunua's, Great Barrier Island and other places. We chatted about that. She could play the lute and sang in a choir; she was a soprano. She was fascinated with my band. We were quickly an item but people saw us as an odd couple. Blake and I were pretty stylish and Blake's girlfriend Sarah was hot. I was never phased by this and to me Myfanwy was awesome.

I quickly learned that socially she was very shy and not confident. She had been dux of her school but did not shine socially. She was not a virgin but her sex life was basic to say the least and she had never had a steady before. She used to sit demurely looking quite prim. As she talked she would gracefully gesticulate and touch you lightly in in a delicate way. She had studied ballet and I guessed she had picked up these affectations from there.