Sod's Law Pt. 07

Chapter 13

On Sunday I went home to Mum's and had to rehearse what happened on Friday, and announce the lack of a wedding on Saturday. She deserved a full accounting after her sterling defence of me at the hotel. The members of the family who were assembled did not understand our delay in getting together again, and Mum, being ever practical, made a very pertinent comment.

"So, with Helen having a week off next fortnight for what should have been her honeymoon, what are you going to do about that? Can you book a week off? Otherwise she'll be at a loose end all day everyday. Not good. Bit of a let down when you think of what she might have been doing had we not intervened?" She smiled, full of innuendo and a touch of mischief.

I mentally slapped my forehead. It was so obvious! Why hadn't I thought of that? I thought there was nothing I could do about the current week, and anyway we had decided on being apart for the duration of it, but the week after? I could book a week's holiday: there were few applications for time off at this time of year. Providing I got in early on Monday and ask for the time, I was fairly sure my diary could be kept free.

"Mum, you're a genius! I'm sure I can take the second week off - I have holiday time unused."

When I returned to the House, the phone began to ring as I entered, and in the absence of anyone else - on Sunday people were in bed or out of the building, I went to the office and answered it.

"David, I'm in a phone box about two minutes away. I need to see you urgently," and the phone went dead.

I waited, wondering what had happened now, what further disaster was impending. Then her car swung into the parking area and she leapt out, running for the front door which I opened.

"David, quick," she panted, out of breath. "Your room. Now!" and she turned and ran up the stairs. I hardly had time to admire the frantic sway and flex of her rounded bottom cheeks before she was at the top and had disappeared round the corner. I ran after her, to find her hopping up and down with urgency. Did she need the loo badly? I intuitively knew this was no time to talk, so unlocked the door and opened it.

She ran in ahead of me. I followed and shut the door behind us only to find when I turned round, she had not rushed to the bathroom as I expected but instead had discarded her outer clothing and was standing in a very fetching purple bra and thong set, with plenty of lace to hint at what was beneath.

"Davey, I can't wait until Friday, I need you so much, I need you to take me or I'll go out of my mind!"

"Helen-"

"Shut up, David," she barked, "get your fucking clothes off. No words! I need you now!" and she reached behind her and unclipped her bra, letting it fall away from her before pushing down the wisp of thong to stand stark naked in front of me. Her hand went to her sex. "Here, David my lover," she moaned as she fondled it, "I need you here!"

I knew for certain in that moment that I didn't need to delay, nor engage in any discussion either, but I certainly needed her, and I needed to be exactly whither she had pointed, in that personal private space. I moved toward her, casting off clothing as I went, while she preceded me to the bed, throwing back the duvet and crawling on, her bottom waggling lustily, as if I needed any more enticement!

I was naked as I climbed on, she having laid herself on her back her legs impossibly wide.

"Now, my love, now!" she urged, holding open her nether lips with the fingers of both hands.

I grasped my straining cock, dipped my waist and angled in, driving deep within her.

"Oh, my Sainted Aunt!" she cried. "Oh, Yes, yes, yes! Oh, fucking hell! OH! I needed this I didn't sleep I touched myself I stopped doing that I needed you so bad I had to come take me my David."

That garbled gabble drove me madly on and in, and I thrust hard again and again, our bodies slapping together with a loud clapping din, and an "Ugh, ugh, ugh!" expelled from my lungs with each pounding drive.

We were both making a lot of noise, grunts and moans rising in pitch until I came, hosing her vagina with my loving essence, as she climaxed immediately after, pulling me close in a tight hug as we twitched and shook as if it would never end, her feet drumming on my back.

Phew! What just happened? I lay on her, my head beside hers on the pillow, her arms round me pulling me tight against her, her breasts pricking me while her legs stroked my thighs.

Nothing was said. We just lay joined, pressed together as if to intermingle our bodies until there was no distinction between us, as if we were one organism. It was only after my slowly deflating cock slipped from her, that the first words came from her mouth.

She gave a short laugh. "Sorry I ruined our week of distance. After all the emotion of Saturday I just needed you so badly it hurt."

"I'm glad you came here for your analgesic!" I laughed, as she pushed me off her with mock outrage. "No," I said, "I'm really glad you came, in both senses."

"David, you're impossible!" she scolded, then smiled lovingly. "But so am I - I mean glad I came, not that I'm impossible."

"Not just possible, but actual!" I offered, and gained another loving smile for my efforts.

I completed my roll off her and she came into my arms.

"I'm going back this evening," she said indolently. "I think mother needs some support this week - she's really devastated by the weekend. She's still trying to make sense of it, and see the wisdom in what I've done in cancelling the wedding. In any case, you're at work all week and I'd have nothing to do."

At that, Mum's suggestion came to me. "Helen sweetheart, if I can get the week off, how about us going away somewhere next week?"

Her face lit up in a brilliant smile. "Hmm, I'll have you all to myself for a whole week!" she said seductively. "There's a lot of time lost to make up."

"Think where you'd like to go," I said. "We'll see where we can book at short notice when you get back on Friday."

She made a happy noise and snuggled against me, her hand drifting down to my resting penis, which woke it up to become a stiff and eager cock.

"Once more with feeling," she murmured, as she rolled over me, sat up, put me to her, sank down and fell forward onto me.

This time we had all the time in the world, as Louis Armstrong would agree, there was that gentle moving to and fro all the while, feeling my cock enveloped in a velvet clasp, and she gasped, so was obviously feeling the fulness.

We idly traced patterns over each other's skin, enjoying the soft inner arms and thighs, our navels, fingers, necks and ears, playing the game of 'bite the finger' as it passed over our lips, and all the while she gently rubbed her clitoris against my root giving little moans and whimpers.

Of course in the end her movements gained speed and pressure, and I began to push my hips up in time and there came the gentlest of orgasms for her, and later more of my seed found a way from me to her ready vagina.

We ate beans on toast for afternoon tea, and in all the time we were in the kitchen, only Christian called in to greet Helen happily and to say he was away at a conference until Friday. He thought there was actually no one else at home.

Helen went on her satisfied and relaxed way to reinstate our week apart. I returned to my room with a bottle of beer and a small jug of water with whisky in mind, and settled to read a book.

As I expected, there was no objection to my taking the week off, and I began assiduously to clear my outstanding work load for the rest of the week. It kept me busy working longer hours, and helped the time to pass before I could see Helen again.

We were both careful not to contact each other all week, according to what we both realised was a now ludicrous rule of separation.

It also gave me an opportunity to work out possible holiday destinations, or, if she wanted to stay at home, things to do locally.

Since only Chris knew of Helen's brief though intensive visit, the whole House was even more eager for her arrival than I was, and I was met with 'Only three more days!' or 'Nearly Friday!' and so on, always with a conspiratorial grin. I smiled and kept my secret.

Sure enough, Friday arrived and I went to work, leaving a key to my room with Kim, who had no lectures on Friday that year and though she usually disappeared for the long weekend, had no engagements that particular weekend. Personally I thought that, romantic soul as she was, she wanted to be there for the grand reunion.

At work I checked I had completed everything, had left instructions as to who would take my calls and mail, and finally went and signed off with Ezra Seddon at lunchtime, being told to go home and good luck.

I arrived at the House and saw Helen's car in the car park, so parked mine next to hers. I checked the kitchen but there was no one there. Up the stairs and into my room, and there she was, talking with Kim.

"Hi David," Helen greeted me, looking quite serene.

Kim jumped up. "I'm off!" she said with a happy smile. "So glad!" she added as she gave me a quick hug and a kiss on my cheek, before leaving the room and closing the door quietly behind her.

When I turned back to Helen she was standing before me with a sultry smile, and I stood rooted to the spot, gazing at her. She was back. But there was something...

"I only arrived ten minutes ago," she said. "I couldn't wait to get here." she laughed nervously. "I mean get back to you," she added and ran her tongue round her lips.

I propelled myself forward and took her in my arms, hugging her tightly. She hugged back, her face buried in my shoulder. I stroked her hair.

I pulled back and looked at her. It was still the same Helen, and I was sure now we still had that connection, that rapport, that I thought we had the previous Sunday, though now I felt there was something different between us.

Our relationship was not the same as it had been, not as carefree, or perhaps more mature. But so what? There were all sorts of events in a couple's life as a result of which the relationship has a shift.

She saw something in my expression. "Something's changed, hasn't it?" She said.

"Helen, I was destroyed when you left so suddenly, I was distraught, but I've learned that you were too. Both of us were deeply distressed and you tried to begin life afresh with Barry, whereas I just felt empty. I suffered from depression. I was living a half-life.

"Then Harry got me going and I was like a bloodhound looking for any mistake, anything overlooked. It became desperate when you wrote and refused any contact, and your parents backed you up, so as soon as I could find a way to you, I took it. I think that shows that not only do I want you, I need you in my life."

She sighed with relief and fell into my arms, and this time we kissed. It was quite savage, as if we were trying to quench our thirst for each other. Our hands were roving over each other, finding and pressing those intimate places only lovers should go.

Then she tore at my clothes, pushing off my jacket, undoing my tie, ripping the buttons off my shirt and shoving it off my shoulders. At the same time I was pulling her teeshirt over her head, unhitching her bra, and unzipping her slacks, pushing them down her legs, while she did the same to my trousers, until we both stood, trousers round our feet.

We stopped. We looked at the results of our heedless stripping: the clothes strewn around and our trousers shackling our feet, and finally at my underpants and her tanga briefs, those being all that were now covering us, and we laughed, and laughed and laughed, stepping out and away, and hugging together tightly, feeling flesh upon flesh.

Then there was her smell, her perfume, and the odour of woman, turned on as she obviously was. She buried her face in my neck and inhaled me.

"Yesss!" she sighed. "This week has been so long!"

I simply groaned my delight: she felt right, perfect, a complete fit with me.

My hands were on her curving waist, and slid to her hips, pushing her undies away and down. Then with some urgency, her hands left my shoulders and ranged over my back until they slid under my underpants, pushed them down over my buns, and as they fell, traced a finger up my crease and into my arse, which had the effect of pulling us together again and pressing my erection against her mound.

Another hungry kiss, tongues lashing each other's mouths, ranging over ears and necks, until I was licking the humid dampness between her delightful breasts, hands coming up to cup them and fondle her nipples.

"Bed!" she groaned, "Please, quick!"

We kicked away our underwear and arms round each other, took the four or five steps to the bed, flinging back the covers.

"Stop!" I shouted.

"Ugh?" came the erudite reply from the woman attempting to crawl onto the bed.

"I want to look at you," I said. "All of you."

"For God's sake David! Here!" She had her hands on her hips and faced me. I gazed on her body, it's medium breasts, that hourglass shape for waist to hips, perfect slim thighs and shapely calves. She turned rapidly to show me her bottom with those tight globes. She bent forward, showing her vulva, clearly wet and ready, her lips swollen and reddened.

Then I saw it: the engagement ring I'd bought her, once again residing on her finger. I'd left it on the table and forgotten I'd done it.

"Seen everything?" she said with some aggression. "Now you!"

I mirrored her impudent stance, hands on hips, pulling in my stomach, my erect cock waving at her. I turned to show the back view, and she giggled.

"Beautiful bod!" she growled. "Now, please, can you do something with it?" and with that she clambered onto the bed, lay on her back and spread her lovely legs wide as she had on Sunday, knees bent and displaying herself wantonly.

I followed and berthed between her delectable thighs, leaning forward to kiss her mouth, then her tits.

"You're wearing our engagement ring," I said almost reverently.

"Well," she said looking apprehensive, "You left it out and I thought..."

"I'm glad you thought," I said. "because we are - engaged again, I mean, I hope."

She smiled seraphically. "No more waiting," she begged. "You took me back on Sunday. Do it again, take me back, sweet David, just to make sure!"

So saying she grasped my dick and as I adjusted my stance to suit, led it to the place, like the ring, where it should always have belonged. I pushed in firmly until we were locked together once more.

She lifted her legs until they were over my shoulders, allowing further penetration, and she groaned, "Oh, yes, so deep! Oh, how I need this, need you my darling."

Slowly, fully out then fully in, over and over, all the time gazing into those lovely eyes, hearing the slap of wetness as we collided again and again, harder and harder, faster and faster.

"Yes, ugh, yes, ugh, yes ugh," over and over she showed her delight, lifting those hips in time, making each stroke agonisingly intimate, utterly accepting.

Then she came. She stopped breathing for an age, then exhaling with the loudest of grunts as her legs fell and she convulsed over and over each time I moved the slightest amount. She pulled my head to hers and kissed voraciously, open mouthed, tongue thrashing, as if to climb inside me.

I held still until she subsided a little, than thrust long and deep, still kissing, again and again until I felt the rising in me, when I rose off her and looked into her eyes so she could see me come for her, stopped still with bated breath, breathed and moved infinitesimally feeling the delicious ache of denied climax, stopped, refusing to breathe out, and again moved minimally, teetering on the very edge, then could not help myself any longer, bellowing as I thrust deep over and over, spurting as if my very essence was wrenched from me into her.

She simply gazed unblinking and amazed at my contorted face as I gave her everything I could, then her face softened and looked with such love and relief before I fell on her, pressing her down into the mattress, as she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me to herself even more tightly.

How long did we lie like that, my cock still hard and buried in her, her hands roving over my back and bottom, tracing my crease with a finger before she stroked my back again?

"Yes," she whispered at last. "We're back. I wondered about Sunday, but oh, it's so good, having you on me and in me. Love you so much!"

"Love you too," I answered, and though it seemed a fairly tame reply, it gained a vaginal squeeze from my love.

Then a thought came to me, and on consideration it was a thought I could well have done without it. I rolled off her and she came to me as she always used to, to wind herself round me, her head on my shoulder.

The unwelcome thought after such intimacy? What was it like for her with Barry? Was he...?

"You tensed then. What's the matter?"

I was silent, not wanting to admit what could be jealousy, or fear of another man's prowess.

"It's Barry, isn't it?" She hugged me tighter.

All I could do was nod.

She spoke reflectively. "You want to know about him. I'll tell you the unvarnished truth.

"Barry did all the things you did and do for me, in and out of bed, but he was never better than you at any of it, and I'm not just saying that to make you feel good. He always put me first, just like you do. He fingered me like you do, ate me out like you do, pinched my tits like you do, tantalised me to really get me going like you do, his cock filled me like yours does, he was affectionate like you are..."

She paused and I was dumbstruck. This was indeed the truth, but did I want it spelled out so starkly, or did I rather want to hear that I was a much better lover than him? In the absence of any comment from me, she continued.

"I thought you might want to know if he was... better? Or perhaps that you are better? What I'm trying to say is that you are both loving and caring men, and you really are very alike in your attitude and your characters. So like you, he did make me feel very loved.

"But, and this is what is important my love.

"While the feelings are much the same, my own reaction to them - well, with you the only word is cataclysmic! You tear me apart with your love every time, the intimacy is so much deeper with you it almost hurts, it reaches right into my soul.

"So with Barry, the relationship was deep and very loving, but as far as my response goes, it never came near what you and I have. You seem to reach into my soul."

"And you into mine," I replied, very much impressed. "You're right, I did have a passing thought about Barry."

"I just had this feeling after we made love that you would want to know. Men are more insecure about that sort of thing than women are."

With that little 'conversation' we were back, though there was a niggling thought about their life together for a year, their affection, lovemaking, and the daily routines they shared. Again she surprised me.

"David, never a day went by without me thinking of you, wondering what you were doing, whether you'd found someone else, worrying in case you still wanted me in spite of me being your sister, a fear that you'd come looking for me. There was always a nagging ache that we were apart. I felt I had to push you away: I kept wanting to run back to you and hang the consequences. I just hoped every day the feelings would lessen, but they didn't. Eventually I resigned myself to having to live with them."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I felt the same way, I wanted closure, to say goodbye... until I found out the truth, then there was a different agenda, and lots of frustration."

"I'm so glad you did what you did. So is Barry."