Quiet Time

For those who demand a 'back story', this perhaps isn't the tale for you. It's been written for a friend and what you'll see is for now at least, as much as I know. Actually, that's not entirely true I do know a little more; but the lady wishes to retain her anonymity, so descriptions are deliberately vague and names outright lies:

Good afternoon, my name's Emily, a forty-six year old divorcee from the north of England; a mother of two, grandmother to two more and whilst 'past my prime', I'd like to think I carry my years well. Having raised and sent two children out into the world, I now find, like so many of my friends, that I'm back in harness helping to raise my grandchildren.

With student debts and the exorbitant property costs that youngsters have to budget for nowadays, stay at home motherhood or professional full-time childcare is beyond most. It's certainly unaffordable for my daughter Judith and her husband Gavin; both work their hours over four long days each week, they fund childcare for one day and Grandma-Em looks after the boys on the other two.

It's a labour of love for me; while my twin grandsons Max and Jack might have appeared few years earlier than Jude and Gav's life-plan had envisaged, I wouldn't wish it any different. Things will no doubt get easier once the boys start school, but that's still two years away; until then, I know where I'll be each Tuesday and Wednesday.

That said, the events of this story took place on a Saturday: Judith was getting away for a rare day out with friends, while Gavin was due to look after the kids; some sort of disaster at Gav's work put the kibosh on that plan. It was all computer stuff so Gav could work at home, but he needed to concentrate and that in tandem with child-care, was impossible; as usual, Grandma-Em stepped into the breach.

I arrived at eight-thirty gave the boys breakfast, spent the morning playing with them, then served lunch at midday. Other than when delivering him a couple of coffees during the morning, I hadn't seen Gavin until lunchtime; he'd spent the morning in his home-office. Gav returned there almost immediately after, while I settled the boys down for an afternoon nap; their Quiet-Time.

Once the lunch table was cleared, I grabbed my embroidery bag and headed into the conservatory; there offers the best light in the house. Cross-stitching has long been a pastime of mine and while needles, thread and the aida cloth panels aren't good in the presence of inquisitive and grubby fingered toddlers, it's the perfect hobby for Quiet-Time.

I've no idea how long it was before I looked up from my work, nor indeed why I had looked up; there was certainly no sound, perhaps movement or a dancing shadow caught my eye? In the moment that I did, I saw Gavin standing just inside the doorway; my mouth fell open, I froze in my seat and silently stared at him.

It wasn't Gavin per se which caught and held my attention, but the fact that his trousers were unfastened and resting precariously upon his hips. Gavin's cock was on open display, resting loosely in his right hand which he was stroking lightly back and forth along its length. It looked to be a... substantial cock and very beautiful; but inarguably... inappropriate.

It's been some years since I've seen a cock in the flesh so to speak, but I perhaps saw more than my fair share when I was younger, so was confident in my appraisal. Neither of us uttered a word; Gavin stood there... wanking and I continued to watch him. I've no idea how long we maintained that tableau, but it was my tongue which broke the spell.

Not that I used it to say anything: Gavin's... performance had left me dry-mouthed and my tongue had begun to slowly circulate around my open lips; I was doing nothing more than moistening them. I realised with a start and just a little too late, that from Gavin's viewpoint, my action was perhaps projecting a very different picture?

I saw Gavin's eyes... harden, almost in the moment that I stopped. A second later Gav's left hand rose to his chest and made a gesture, a mimicry really, as he gruffly whispered: "Open it Emily.... Unfasten your blouse... give me something to look at."

I stared at Gavin for another five, perhaps even ten seconds before the moment... The moment which I can't and will likely never, be able to explain: After carefully placing my embroidery onto the floor beside my chair, I sat upright again and with trembling fingers began to unbutton my blouse; that behaviour was little more appropriate than Gavin's.

I continued to stare at Gavin's pumping hand as I worked my way down, though I spared half an eye to watch his expression; it was Gavin licking his lips now. I paused when my hands reached the level of my navel; but hey-ho, it was a little late for propriety by then, I quickly opened the remaining buttons before pulling the tail of my blouse free from the waistband of my skirt.

My blouse gaped like a pair of half-open curtains, my bra clad breasts and belly visible in the shadowy void between; save for the small but inevitable paunch of childbirth, the latter remains acceptably flat. Gavin's eyes were boring into that void when he gruffly whispered once more: "Take the bra off too... I want to see your tits."

This time my demurral was shorter, though my compliance not quite so complete: I knew full well what Gavin was used to seeing in the boob department and had no concerns about my ability to compete with regards to size... both of breasts AND nipples! But Judith's barely half my age and the... springiness of my own youth has long passed.

After peeling off and carelessly discarding my blouse, I instead reached into the cups of my bra, each in turn and lifted my breasts free of their constraint. Once each pale orb was free, I settled it delicately onto the top of my still fastened brassiere, whilst wishing that I'd chosen a more alluring one that morning; to be fair I could hardly have envisaged my exposing it.

I was confident that my display was... fetching, even before I heard the liquid growl rumble out of Gavin's throat and having lifted my eyes from his cock, registered that Gav's eyes, were almost out on stalks as he ogled my naked boobs. Confident or not and damn the impropriety of it, Gavin's responses were quite a fillip to a lady of a certain age like myself.

Perhaps it was that appreciation which hastened my acquiescence... and more, to Gavin's next gruff instruction: "Lift you skirt and open you legs Emily". Gavin's hand was still sliding lightly along that gorgeous shaft.

Having hoisted my skirt as demanded, I took a moment to peel off and discard my panties too before complying with Gavin's second request. As with my brassiere, the knickers that I'd donned that morning were far from alluring; besides, it seemed likely that an order for their removal would be issued before long anyway.

Even as my thighs began parting I heard another of those liquid growls emanating from Gavin's throat; which proved to be just the encouragement needed. I kept on going... spreading my legs obscenely wide... offering Gavin a lewd demonstration of just how... pliant I might prove be; in both thought and deed.

Gavin's growl kept on rolling, his eyes stared fixedly between my legs; I knew without looking that with legs opened this wide, my pussy too would be gaping... A hint of its salmon-pink interior on display, 'looking for all the world like an over-ripe and bursting peach'. How could I be so sure? Simple... That's precisely how Joyce had described it just yesterday:

By nature my pubic hair's prolific and rather wayward; apt to cause embarrassment during my regular visits to the local swimming pool. I'm joined on those swimming-sessions by my good friend Joyce, another single lady of a similar age and one who also labours with this same annoyance; we've long assisted each other in dealing with our shared problem.

Our regular visits to the pool are on a Friday afternoon, so we meet every Friday mornings at either my place or Joyce's and help each other to relieve our problem. A weekly depilation, followed by a thorough application of moisturising cream puts paid to our pubic hair issues and yes, it's not unusual for us to deal with one or two other frustrations at the same time.

Today being Saturday, there was barely a hint of regrowth so Gavin gained the full benefit of Joyce's effort and attention. Those staring eyes, the still ongoing liquid-growl and a strengthening of the strokes that Gavin was applying to his cock all evinced that Joyce's labours had not been in vain; while a growled "Use a hand... finger yourself Em." confirmed it.

How could I refuse? Hell, if Gavin's order had arrived just a few seconds later it would've arrived too late; my hands were already headed in that direction when he spoke! Any thoughts of propriety or simple good sense were now long gone and with my eyes now staring equally at Gavin's exposed cock, I issued a liquid, almost bestial growl of my own.

My right hand encompassed my whole mound and squeezed; that alone a caused a second growl. With index and little fingers hooked into claws and dragging through the soft folds of my vulva, the two central fingers remained arrow straight and speared into the wet, unresisting void between. That intrusion drew the third and deepest yet, of my feral growls.

Gavin's next demand drew my attention away from his cock and back to Gavin's face. "Harder Emily... I want to see you bring yourself off." As ever, my response was immediate and the combination of that demand, my own fingers and Gavin's watchful eyes ensured that his required outcome wasn't long in arriving either.

I must've looked a wanton sight: Back arched, my whole body taut as a bowstring, as I writhed and twitched my way through a powerful, but silent - save for my grinding teeth and a staccato bleating -- orgasm. I'd managed to retain sufficient awareness and self-control not to rouse the children; though in those moments, any awareness of Gavin had been lost.

By the time that my orgasm had passed and I'd returned to planet earth, Gavin had crossed the room and was standing over me; his cock still resting in his open hand, but now just inches from my face. Gavin didn't say a word, instead his eyes flicked back and forth between mine and that gorgeous shaft; Gavin didn't need to speak, my lips parted as I pressed forward to accommodate Gavin's cock.

It'd been some years since I'd last sucked on a stiff cock, but but back in the day I'd garnered something of a reputation for my prowess and I was pleased to discover that fellatio's a skill akin to riding a bike... I hadn't forgotten and I was still bloody good; Gavin's hand entwining roughly in my hair as he growled "Mmmm you are a greedy bitch Emily" attested to that.

Gavin's 'Greedy' was perhaps a tad overstated; in that first instance I'd allowed no more than the tip and first half-inch of Gavin's shaft into my mouth. Only once there did I peel back Gavin's foreskin and settle it precisely within the circle of my lips, while laving my tongue firmly and repeatedly around the base of his now exposed crown... You boys ALL enjoy that manoeuvre.

Having gained Gavin's attention I eased my lips slightly and set them to vibrating with a hum as I pulled cool air into my mouth and across the exposed head of his cock. That drew a second growled response from Gavin: "Oh fuck yessssss" and one which I rewarded by leaning forward to accommodate the rest of his erect cock.

And I do mean 'the rest'; every inch of Gavin's shaft passed through my trembling lips as his cock head tracked down into the depths of my throat. No choking or gagging and to reinforce the point, I held Gav inside me there for a count of five, before withdrawing in a similarly slow and controlled manner; that earned me a second and perhaps better warranted 'greedy' epithet.

I treated Gavin to a half dozen replays of that part-trick before easing back to concentrate on the tip of his cock... come on, a girl needs to breathe sometime. Besides, while you guys might love the sight and feel of a girl's throat distending around your cock, it's invariably our attention to that fleshy-mushroom atop it which ultimately pops your corks.

Calling up memories from the past I applied my tongue, lips, cheeks and albeit lightly, my teeth too on Gavin's swollen glans; near the end I even drew his crown firmly across the ridges of my palate -- I'd nearly forgotten that little ploy! Gavin's responses were all that a girl could wish for: those fingers tightened in my hair and his language grew ever more vulgar.

As Gavin's excitement was growing my own recent climax began to fade; thoughts of 'what the hell do you think you're doing Em? That's your son in law's cock in your mouth' began to intrude. I know that we ladies should be able to say 'No -- Enough -- Stop!' whenever we choose to, but there are perhaps limits and I was far beyond mine; besides... with Gavin's cock once again deep my throat, I couldn't say much of anything.

I was still cogitating on those thoughts when Gavin roughly pushed me away and shouted; he was the one to say "No, enough!..." For a few moments I believed that Gavin had come to his senses and regained the sense of restraint and common decency that we'd both lost? It proved a short lived respite, as Gavin concluded with: "...it's your juicy cunt that I want!"

Seconds later Gavin had sunk to his knees between my splayed legs, grasped me by the thighs and jerked me roughly forward in the chair; an instant after that, his cock was probing at the entrance to my pussy... or perhaps that should read 'juicy cunt'? Gavin's intrusion was hurried and clumsy, so it was perhaps fortunate that my cunt proved to be every bit as juicy as Gav had envisaged.

Having bulldozed his cock through the fleshy portals, Gavin drove into me with a single hard thrust... Jesus, Christ; juicy wasn't the half of it, I was absolutely awash in there! Gavin pounded into me like a man possessed and my own response was no less reckless; how many years had it been since a real flesh and blood cock had penetrated me? It seemed far too many!

Those long neglected nerve endings inside my pussy exploded like a firework display and I doubt it took as many as a dozen of Gavin's brutal thrusts before I came like that proverbial train. Gavin paused as I shuddered my way through that second, violent and once again largely silent, orgasm; though Gav leaning forward and nipping my bloated left nipple between his teeth didn't help with that silence!

Gavin's pause didn't last long and I was still gasping for breath when he began spearing into me once more. A growled "My turn now Emily... I'm going to fill you with my cum." That restored my sanity, if not my breath; I was still beyond speech but slammed my hands against Gavin's chest and pushed... the look on my face no doubt explained the rest to him.

The likelihood of my falling pregnant was rather slim, but it did exist and Gavin's expression suggested that the possibility was no more appealing to him than to me. Two seconds later and Gavin's cock was out of my pussy and once more in his own hand; though this time his fingers were clenched around it tightly, holding back an obviously imminent outpouring.

We both glanced around for something to catch the flow, Gav's eyes even paused for an instant on my discarded embroidery; perhaps that rather than desire was what triggered my decision? I leant forward with my mouth open wide and tongue protruding in welcome; Gavin accepted the invitation and my lips closed firmly around his pulsing cock just as his first stream poured forth.

That stream was the first of many; had Judith not been taking care of Gavin, or had I perhaps forgotten how copious a man... most especially a young one, could be? Gavin's semen flooded into my mouth, I had more trouble shovelling that all down my throat than I'd had with his cock; I didn't dare spill a drop, semen splashes on the upholstery or carpet would've been beyond explanation.

By the time I'd swallowed all Gavin had to offer, he was wearing a smug, one might even say shit-eating grin; I meanwhile had noticed the time and returned to reality with a bump. I'd pushed Gavin away and begun shovelling my boobs back into my bra when I spoke and only much later did I realise that these had been the first words which I'd spoken since Gavin's intrusion.

"The boys will be awake at any minute... pull up your pants and get back into the office. I don't want to see your face again before Judith arrives home and not one word to anybody... ever!"

I was squared away and upstairs to wake the boys before they'd got up and come looking for Grandma-Em themselves, then I entertained them until Judith's return. As ever, Jude invited me to stay for dinner, but unusually I today made my excuses and headed home almost as she walked through the door; I could barely look her in the face and was thankful to get out of there before Gavin had re-appeared.

It was the following Friday when I got the phone call from Gavin:

"Hi Emily... are you OK to talk?"

I glanced around before replying: "Sure, I'm in the car... On my way home from the sports centre, but the phone's on hands-free"

"Great, I was calling about this Sunday... Wondering if you were doing anything that day; in the afternoon?"

"Are you having to work this weekend again too?"

"No, nothing like that. Judith's looking after the kids on Sunday anyway. No... I... I was fancying going out for a spin on my mountain bike; I've not been for a decent long run on it in ages and... Well, I was thinking that if you were going to be home I could... maybe call in on you as I passed?"

There was a protracted pause in our conversation and then: "Your house is only five miles from Emily's, Gavin; It sounds to me as if what you're really fancying is a short ride on your bike followed by a much longer one on Em?"

This time the pause was even longer before Gavin's "Who... what... oh fuck."

It was now my turn to reply, speaking loudly to overcome the adjacent laughter: "That was my friend Joyce; she's in the car with me--"

"We have met a couple of times Gavin; I'm the red-headed one with the inviting cleavage that you seem to enjoy peering into."

By now I too was laughing at Gavin's expense and his muttered "Fuck." didn't help matters; unfortunately or perhaps not, Joyce continued speaking on my behalf:

"So I've heard and you sound to be quite a good one too from what Em told me about your shenanigans last weekend. But don't worry Gavin... Your secret's safe with Joyce... my lips are sealed almost as tightly as Emily's were when you shot your load down her throat last Saturday..."

All Gavin managed in response was an inarticulate growl; so Joyce continued: "...Anyway; back to the point of your call. It seems that Emily's still thinking about your proposal, but I'll be at Em's on Sunday and I'd certainly like a piece of what Emily described as your 'substantial and very beautiful cock'. So, get there at one o'clock and if Em wants in too, we'll share you... or maybe you and I could share Emily?"

Joyce closed out the call before Gavin could reply; he phoned twice more in the next few minutes, but she blanked those calls too. Joyce was grinning like a Cheshire Cat even before I suggested that "He may not turn up Joyce... You might have scared him off."

"Not one chance in a hundred; I've told you before about the way that randy little sod pervs on my tits and now that he's had a taste of your sweet pussy too... Gavin will be there and most likely arriving early. But just to allay your fears, I'll go into town tomorrow and buy a new and bigger dildo for my strap-on... With that we can share you properly Emily."