The Touch Ch. 27

"No! Not yet .... I want you to keep it on." I eased her down until she was lying on the bed, her lower legs dangling over the side, and then knelt in front of her and lightly ran my hands up her legs from her toes, over her knees and along her thighs until they were beneath the uniform and I could feel the elasticated tops of her black hold-up stockings. One at a time I slowly rolled each stocking down, taking care not to pluck or ladder the delicate fabric, following each with my lips planting tiny nibbling kisses from her thighs down to her toes and finally gently kissing her toe tips.

"Oh God, my darling, that is so good," she moaned. "I love feeling your hands and lips on me."

I slid my hands back up her now naked legs, slowly caressing the delicate white skin of her inner thighs with my finger tips and drew my tongue lightly behind them leaving a narrow moist trail from her knee to the top of her thigh, pushing the crisp dark blue fabric ahead of me until my face was against her panties and I was able to press my lips against the outline of her pussy through the fabric. I pushed my lips against her plain black silk panties and brushed my tongue long the indentation made by her swollen pussy lips and blew hard against it, my hot breath causing her to cry out and jerk her crotch against my face, her hands coming down to clasp and capture the top of my head.

"Aaaah!" She gasped loudly as I nuzzled again into her crotch, "Please, my darling..... please.... Make love to me! I want you to love me .... NOW!" She tugged at my hair trying to drag me up over her.

I gently eased the now slightly moist fabric of her panties down her thighs and tugged at my own shorts until they lay together on the floor and then pulled myself up until I was between her waiting thighs crushing her onto the mattress my prick quivering against her Mound of Venus and I could feel the hot moistness of her pussy against my jewels.

The fabric of her uniform was now bunched up around her hips and where it had been crisp and starched it was now crumpled and creased but it was still very erotic making love to her in that dark blue sister's uniform. It wasn't just a fetish for fucking the uniform; it was far more than that, it was making love to HER, to Gwen...my mother....in that sexy uniform, I had watched her in that uniform day after day since long before we were lovers and that uniform was part of the total all encompassing passion that I had for her.

She gave a tiny gasp of expectation as the tip of my prick touched the entrance to her vagina. Our lips came together and at the same instant that our tongues touched and then thrust into each others mouths our loins joined as my hard tool slipped smoothly into her, her hot moistness offering no resistance and swallowing as much of my length as she could take. We lay still for a moment, locked together, our mouths writhing and sucking and our bodies joined where my prick was thrust into her as deeply as was possible.

Slowly we started to gently thrust at each other, moaning and laughing with the joy of our love making for a long time enjoying the sweetness of languorous joining, until our need became frantic and we hammered furiously at each other seeking release for our passion. Gwen's thighs suddenly locked hard around mine and she gave a deep throated moan as her orgasm rippled through her body and the pulsing from her pussy brought me to a gasping shuddering climax as I ejaculated furiously into her hot moist depths.

We lay quietly together in each others arms until the storm of our frenzied love making had subsided.

Gwen sat up and started to smooth out her uniform. "Oh God, my darling! Look what you have done to me!" She giggled, "I look a bloody mess!" She leaned over and kissed me soundly on the lips. "Christ.... We've been shagging, in the morning, in my bloody uniform ... when you are supposed to be at work .... I've told you before ...you are a pervert, James Riley."

We continued to laugh and tease each other as I re-dressed and Gwen found a fresh uniform and took it into the en-suite bathroom to clean up and change.

There was still coffee in the pot and so we each had another cup before indulging in a long and passionate good-bye kiss and hug and then I got into the car and drove off to my first port of call for the morning.

My first stop of the morning was at Laverstock on the east of the city which was a re-design and planting job at a newly built house which had been given to Kitty as the work experience, practical applications project for her Cities and Guilds certificate under Maggie's supervision. She had made a really good job of both the design and the build, the customer, Mr. Greenway, was absolutely thrilled with the results and full of praise for Kitty and the trainees that had helped her. It seemed to be a good opportunity to raise something with her that I had had in mind for a while.

Kitty was turning into a real asset as she was very knowledgeable and was gaining a lot of practical experience, plants were her passion and she was a really hard and dedicated worker who could be left to get on with any job unsupervised which was a real bonus. I took her to one side and we sat on a bench and discussed small details of the job for a time.

I couldn't help but be aware of Kitty sitting so close beside her. She was very attractive in a very striking athletic way, quite tall, about 5' 9" with a very muscular figure, modest tits, a flat arse and very long powerfully built legs. She usually wore her long blonde hair tied back in thick plait and her face was fine-looking, rather than pretty, with a wide mouth and very sharp pale blue eyes. She was wearing the same dark green utility trousers as I was but even thought the morning was only modestly warm had stripped down to a sleeveless sports style grey vest and the soft fabric sports bra she was wearing beneath did little to conceal the hard points of her nipples which showed through the fabric. I couldn't help thinking that she looked like a very attractive female parody of the Rambo character.

Despite having worked together now for three months of so I still knew relatively little about Kitty, she did not seem to be into relationships, she didn't seem to go out on dates with guys but I was pretty certain that the rumours about her being gay were unfounded. The group of friends that I had seen her about town with were mostly a mixed bunch from college but there didn't seem to be any special attachments of either sex.

Eventually I found an opening to bring up what I wanted to ask. "Kitty, are you still intending to take off for a year in Australia after the summer?"

"Yes. That's still the plan... at the moment ... why do you ask?"

"Well, if you decide to change your mind, Maggie and I would really like you to stay on with us. Permanently ... with the professional pay scale ... of course." Kitty was really good, she totally lived for horticulture and she had now proved that she had a seriously good aptitude for design and was capable of supervising a team.

"On second thoughts," I added strongly, "I would seriously like you to consider staying as an alternative to going to Australia at all ..... become a permanent member of the team."

"Wow!" She genuinely seemed a bit startled by the offer. "Can I think about that for a few days?"

"Fine, take as long as you want... just be sure to say yes in the end."

"Thanks Jamie. You've made me feel really good about myself," she answered, then leaned over and gave me a very swift, light kiss on the cheek before going back to work. I watched her lithe body and muscular arms as she effortlessly heaved sacks of compost into a barrow, and not for the first time fantasised about the sort of back breaking sex that a body like that promised.

I left Kitty and drove the short distance to Bishopsdown and Caroline's house. All was well there; Steve and Dennis were well along with constructing the wooden decking patio and so I only stopped long enough to have a chat about progress and a cup of coffee before setting off again across the city to Craven Lodge where Colin and Mikey were working.

Colin was a first class gardener and there was never going to be any question about the quality of the work that he was doing at Craven Lodge but I was still surprised every time that I visited at the scale of change and improvement that he was bringing about, in the three days a week that he was devoting to the estate.

Georgia Craven, Maggie and I had decided that we should concentrate our efforts for the year on restoring the old 19th Century decorative garden which ran from the west face of the house down to the ornamental lake and boathouse. The lake had become clogged and the natural spring which had once fed it needed to be cleared. This was a specialist job which none of us felt qualified to undertake but I had arranged for a company which specialised in river dredging to come in to give Georgia an estimate as she was keen to have the old lake restored.

I spent a good hour with Colin discussing the next stages of work, talking to Colin was always an education and as usual I came away more knowledgeable than when I arrived. As I walked back to the car I noticed that Georgia's Range Rover was now parked in the drive at the side of the house and I could hear her dogs barking somewhere in the grounds. She had asked me to call in on her a couple of weeks back and I had let it slip, she hadn't mentioned it on Friday evening, but I thought that as we were both there that day I should try to catch-up with her.

I found her at the back of the house standing watching her two young black Labradors chasing each other about the old orchard. She was wearing blue jeans and a chequered country style shirt, and a silk headscarf tied under her chin. It was the first time that I had seen her wearing anything so informal, and I thought that she looked very petite and quite cute and seemed to be looking younger than I remembered; I guess she was actually in her early to mid fifties.

"Good morning, Georgia." I said quietly as I approached her. Georgia Craven still made me a bit nervous, she sometimes still came across as a very stiff, formal woman, a typical high powered lawyer; she had ticked me off some months back for calling her 'Mrs. Craven' instead of Ms. which was her preferred form of titular address, but I still stupidly, felt a bit uneasy calling her Georgia although we both seemed to be a bit more relaxed around each other just recently, even if our social meetings had been very brief.

"Ah, James," She always insisted on calling me James or Mr. Riley, not Jamie. "I am glad you have finally found me at home, there is something I wish you to do for me." There was no tone of censure in her voice so I relaxed a bit and followed along behind her as she walked briskly towards the front of the house.

"I hope that you are pleased with the progress with the gardens?" I ventured. We turned the corner to the front face of the house and the sweep of the main drive leading down to the gate. Drive was probably a generous description, it was little more that a neglected mud track and could be pretty hazardous in foul weather for anything other than a four wheel drive vehicle. I noticed that the scaffolding which had previously clad the front of the building had now been removed and the whole aspect looked cleaner and smarter.

"Oh yes, I really am very pleased, it is starting to look the way that I remember it as a small child when it was my grandfather's house, loved and well cared for." I caught up with her and was taken aback when she slipped her arm through mine and then gestured with the other. "I'm afraid that my father lived almost exclusively in London and after becoming a Law Lord, a High Court Judge, only ever came down for a few days at Christmas. He cared nothing for the estate and just let it go to ruin. It broke my heart, I grew up here and I love this house dearly."

This was the first time that I had ever had a conversation of more than a few words with Georgia and had certainly never touched upon anything as personal before. I was surprised that she had exposed an emotional aspect of her life to me, but it made her seem more human and less the lawyer.

"It is a shame," I ventured, "the garden must have been beautiful once .... I shall do my best to restore that again for you ... but it will take a lot of time." I smiled, "Gardeners have a saying that for every year of neglect it takes five years of growth to restore the former beauty."

She laughed. Somehow, I had expected her laugh to be harsh and brittle a reflection of her outer shell personality, but it wasn't, it was husky and soft and rather sexy. "I think you are a bit of a romantic, James. Perhaps that is a good thing in a gardener, yes?"

"Perhaps." I agreed. We seemed to be connecting on a more personal level now. "What was it that you needed? Just name it and if it is my power to deliver... it is yours." It was stupid outrageous flirting but she either didn't notice or chose not to, but she was smiling.

"I want to start inviting guests down during the summer and would like the front aspect of the house to look smarter, I am having the drive re-laid and shingled, do you think that you can do something with the flower beds here at the front, and perhaps put some pots or tubs on the rear terrace, so that we can go out there for drinks?"

"Of course, I can get Colin to start on it in the next few days, I may come over and help as well, I should have a few days free next week. Let me have a think about suitable plants for the perennial and seasonal displays and I will come back to you in a couple of days with some suggestions. The whole area will look a lot nicer if we cut the grass and tidy up the existing shrubbery, and we can steam clean the flagging and stonework on the terrace."

"Just do whatever you think is fitting .... I trust your judgement and taste."

She walked with me to my car which was parked down by the old kitchen garden. There was a service drive at the rear of the house leading a lane at the rear of the estate and Colin and I had been given keys to the gate and usually used that way to come and go, avoiding the hazardous drive. The dogs appeared from somewhere and bounced around us happily barking and chasing each other. We shook hands and I stood by the car and smoked a cigarette and watched her walking back to the house calling to the dogs and picking up sticks to throw for them. She still had a neat, trim figure and her arse was very tidy in those tight jeans when she bent down to pick up sticks for the dogs. I still felt a little wary of her but I was beginning to see her in a softer light, perhaps a lady who was little bit unhappy, maybe a bit lonely. My eyes told me that I was starting to find her attractive but my brain was telling me that I really didn't ought to go there.

I spent the afternoon in the office making the amendments to Caroline Brookes' designs and work plan and catching up on my paperwork. Maggie said that she would close-up so that I could get away to pick-up the girls and so I drove home and took a shower and changed into a decent pair of grey jeans, a new grey marled t-shirt and my leather jacket, had a quick cup of coffee and a cigarette and then drove over to the Shelby Riding Stables to pick-up Emma and Janice.

We decided, sensibly, to eat before going on for a drink and so I drove into Salisbury and parked at the market. After a bit of debate we finally all agreed on fish and chips from Stoby's, as usual on weekdays, the upstairs dining room was quite empty although customers were queuing for take-away and so we were able to get a table and get served almost immediately, and having eaten walked around the corner to the Royal George Inn in Bedwin Street which was one of the fashionable hang outs for students that year. The girls found a table and I went to the bar for drinks, Emma was back on her usual orange juice, Jan chose a glass of white wine and I settled for, a Cooler, tonic water with a splash of peppermint cordial and ice, as I was driving.

By about eight o'clock the pub was starting to get busy with younger customers, mostly from the college or the Salisbury Arts Centre across the road almost all of whom were known to one or another of us either from school or college. One of the guys was celebrating his acceptance to university and so the atmosphere was good and we were swept into the group. It was nice to see several old friends with whom I had lost touch over the past couple of years, and I touched hand with several of the guys and made some loose arrangements to meet up. After an hour or so the group had drifted into a disorganised and rowdy game of Consequences and I found myself sitting to one side with a girl whom I had known from my schooldays, in fact I had dated her for about six weeks when we were both fifteen.

I had met Coralline Remick, during my last long summer holiday from school, when we were both part of a volunteer archaeological team, from various schools in the county, working at a dig on Salisbury plain. It was the last carefree holiday after Dad left and before we realized that he wasn't coming back. We had become friends and by the end of the six weeks holiday were going steady; for one reason or another the relationship failed to survive long after the end of the vacation period, but she still held the record for my longest lasting steady girlfriend, exactly 47 days.

When I first knew her at fifteen, Cora was very slim with an almost boyish figure, tiny tits and a flat arse, a rather ordinary looking face with long dark brown hair which always seemed to be in a permanent mess regardless of if it was worn loose, in a pony tail or twisted into a bun. She was quite tall, about 5'9" and that emphasised her slenderness which, added to the fact that she habitually wore round steel rimmed spectacles made her look bookish and a bit geeky. There were other girls on the project who were more attractive and a couple made it known to me that they might come across, but I genuinely liked being with Cora, we enjoyed the same things, reading, chamber music, history and snogging, we were teamed together at the dig site and drifted into becoming an item.

She hadn't changed that much, she appeared to have filled out a bit but still wore the same style of spectacles and her hair still looked as though she had been dragged through a bush, but she was all smiles when she saw me, she had a great smile which always showed in her eyes not just her lips.

There had been no animosity between us when we split up, but I never saw her again, she had lived the other side of Salisbury, went to a girl's school somewhere near Bournemouth, and our paths just hadn't crossed. I remembered that somebody had told me that she had won a place at Exeter University and was reading History and Archaeology; she had always been academically brilliant. I flopped down into a chair beside her, "Hi, Cora, long time no see, you are looking great... you haven't changed a bit."

She burst out laughing, "Take another look!" She stood up and turned sideways on to me. She was decidedly and very noticeably pregnant. I suppose that I hadn't noticed in the dimly lit pub because she was sitting down and just wearing a normal t-shirt and cut off blue jeans.

"Oh God, Cora," I stuttered, "I'm so sorry...I mean, not sorry about the baby, I mean, sorry that I didn't notice ... Sorry, I guess I had better shut up before I make even more of a pratt of myself, eh?"

She sat back down, still chuckling. "No, I am sorry," she said, "That was a mean thing to do to you." She paused, "It is good to see you again, Jamie."