Those Days of...Ch. 61-65

Having broken the ice on a personal level, in the days and weeks that followed Steve obviously felt more comfortable about handling the different relationships with us, as both clients and Barbara's parents and often came up into the flat for a chat. I don't know if he thought we didn't know that he and Barbara were lovers but during that time he always made a point of bringing her back, never once asking her to stay over with him at his flat. There were a couple of times, when he brought her home earlier than we'd expected and came close to catching Helen and I in what would have been an embarrassing position, but luckily we heard the sound of the front door opening and had just enough time to tidy ourselves.

So there was nothing at all to compare with the situation the three of us had experienced with Mike, when sex and our individual sexual experiences had been the corner-stone of the time we spent together. But of course that gave Barbara the opportunity of developing a more normal relationship with Steve - and Helen was delighted to see that happening.

At the week-ends Helen and I started looking around for new furniture and the various other things we needed to buy for the house and although, for some inexplicable reason I still hadn't told Helen all the details of what had happened at the exhibition, I reminded Barbara of the offer Maureen had made, about helping us with whatever fabrics we needed for curtains.

Once the workmen had moved in we also got into the habit of walking around to house several times a week, to see how things were progressing. We usually did that when they had finished for the day but occasionally we ran into the foreman, who turned out to be a really nice guy, extremely conscientious and he was always more than happy to discuss the details and progress of the work. At first, other than knocking various parts down, very little seemed to be happening and there seemed to be no logic behind the mess that was everywhere but then, after a period of frustrating chaos, everything started to come together and the date for completion, that at one stage had appeared to be just an impossible dream, suddenly started to seem to be achievable.

Barbara's sky-light created a few problems, I didn't want to get involved in the details but I know Steve and Barbara spent many hours re-working her original plans for how it would actually work. Other than that and a few other, relatively minor hiccups, everything went really well and Helen and I began to count down the days to when we would be able to move in.

But the combination of continuing our normal work plus the day to day demands made by - looking for furniture and fittings, keeping up with the builder's schedule, watching our budget - and Barbara's somewhat erratic comings and goings - all resulted in our sex life suffering. Not that we weren't still getting any at all, we were, but the quality dropped off a lot. There never seemed to be the opportunity for our special times together, when we could create those exciting situations for each other, which had always been such an integral part of our mutual enjoyment.

Although I had been vaguely aware of something being wrong, something being missing, I hadn't put it all together, until something happened that made me really stop and think about it.

Chapter 64

Maureen Handles Things

It was late one Friday afternoon when I got a phone call at work from the foreman, saying that the carpeting had arrived, he realised it was a week early of course but when he'd pointed that out to the driver he had told him that he couldn't take it back again because the warehouse had closed for the week-end just after he'd left. The foreman suggested we store it up in the area that we were all still calling the 'attic', where by that time they'd virtually finished working and there would be no risk of the carpet getting damaged or paint splattered. I agreed it was a sensible idea and said I'd chew-out the carpet company on the Monday morning and, imagining the work involved in hauling the heavy rolls up the final stair-way, thanked the foreman for yet again being so obliging.

On the Saturday morning Helen and I went out shopping for a few, hopefully final bits and pieces. As we left, Barbara said that she had arranged to briefly meet Maureen at the house because they had some final measurements to check for the curtaining but that she would only be gone an hour or so and would see us for lunch.

Helen and I were quicker than I'd thought we might be and within a couple of hours were back home again and having carried our purchases I said that if she didn't mind, while she got some sandwiches together for lunch, I'd pop around to the house, to check the carpeting was stored safely.

Having let myself in and found there was no sign of Barbara I presumed she and Maureen had finished their measuring and that as I hadn't passed her on my way over she had walked back through the park. As I wandered through the ground floor rooms I tried to remember how they had looked that first day I seen the place, again marvelling at how much change a few weeks work had brought about - and looking forward to Helen and I soon moving in and turning it into a real home. Then, as I started to move up the stairs, I heard a noise coming from above, from the attic. At first I thought a bird or some sort of an animal had got in - but then as I climbed further up, I realised the rhythmic, gasping sounds were actually being made by human beings.

I went up quickly but quietly and when I carefully peered around the door into the attic area I saw who was making them - and why.

It was Maureen and Charles, fucking vigorously - using the piled up carpets rolls as a substitute for a bed.

The rolls had been put over near the window, the carpet on the floor, the lighter underlay on top - and Maureen was leaning back over that, her arms around Charles, her hands locked tight together, her legs spread wide-apart, her feet on the bottom roll, bracing herself. As they were half-turned towards me I had virtually a clear view of the action. 'At least now I know she's not a natural blonde.' I thought to myself as I watched Charles' cock thrusting in and out through the matt of her dark brown pubic hair.

They had obviously not bothered too much about foreplay, Maureen's blouse was open to the waist - but her bra was still done up. Charles had merely pulled his trousers and pants down below his knees and his shirt wasn't long enough to cover his chubby, thrusting arse. I realised I had arrived just in time for the climax of their sudden lust for each other because just then, as Charles' action speeded-up, Maureen's cries of pleasure rose higher - and as she pulled herself up harder against him and began to throw her head from side to side, her eyes flicked open - and she saw me standing there watching them.

She was too close to it to be able to do anything other than let her orgasm carry her on up over the top and as the speed and force of Charles' thrusting suddenly increased even more and he made a series of loud grunting sounds, the intensity of their mutual climax made her screw them tight shut again.

I took that opportunity to slip away, leaving them to tidy themselves up in their own time - strangely disturbed to find I had become intensely aroused by what I'd so briefly seen and heard. The picture in my head, of the shaft of his cock ploughing Maureen's pussy remained sharp and clear - as did the look in her eyes during the moments they had stared deep into mine.

But there was my gorgeous, sexy Helen waiting at home for me, more than willing to do anything I could imagine wanting her to, so why should a brief glimpse of Charles and Maureen fucking, stir me so much?

As I made my way through to the back of the house and out into the garden I tried to understand my response - recalling the sight of them, her legs spread wide, his cock thrusting deep, her wide-staring eyes, her arms clasped tightly around his back, her hands locked together. Her hands!

Instantly the memory of the first day we had met her came back to mind, the day at the exhibition - and I remembered how, in spite of the lushness of the rest of her body, it had been her hands that had really made an impression on me. I remembered how they looked - and what thoughts had gone through my head.

They really were truly beautiful hands, very white and obviously very soft, with incredibly long, slim fingers tipped with perfectly shaped, brightly varnished nails. And as I'd watched her getting the coffee ready I'd found I was unable to stifle the sneaking thought of how it would feel to have such beautiful hands wrapped around my cock. And that of course brought back the even more powerful memory of how it had felt when she'd actually done that.

I'd shivered when her fingers brushed over the tip of my cock. Her touch was soft and light but as my arousal had grown it felt as though her fingers were connected to some kind of power source, transmitting tiny electric shocks when they made contact.

It seemed ridiculous, I knew I had the choice of any and all parts of Helen's body, including her hands. Yet there was no doubting it, my reaction to the thought of experiencing the unique touch of Maureen's had not only excited me - I found to my bewildered discomfort, it had also given me an instant erection.

I'm not sure how long I wandered around outside, trying unsuccessfully to rid myself of the image and memory of her hands and how they had felt - the next thing I knew she was walking towards me, her voice breaking the whirling confusion inside my head.

'He's gone Roger, I'm sorry. Please, let me explain.'

As she came closer she took my hand and said. 'Come inside, let me explain to you what happened.'

Just the soft feel of her hand was enough to fan the fire that the thought of them had ignited - but as she began to explain I did my best to push those thoughts out of my mind. As we walked back to the house and my erection began to subside I suddenly realised that on top of everything else I was actually quite badly in need of a piss. But as there was nothing I could do about that right at that moment I tried to concentrate even harder on what Maureen was telling me.

'I think you know that Charles and I had quite a steamy affair a couple of years ago, he came close to leaving his wife for me - I'm quite sure he would have done, if I hadn't said 'no' to him.' I nodded and she continued. 'It was pure chance that we met here today. He knew all about the work Steve was doing on this house and without knowing Barbara and I were going to be here this morning they dropped by, so Steve could show him how it was coming along. He'd already met Barbara of course - but you should have seen the expression on his face when he saw me here!

I kept in the background while they took him around to see what they'd done - but I could see he'd lost interest, he just kept staring at me - even if Steve didn't notice anything, I'm sure Barbara did. Although I wouldn't want to live with him I've always found him a very physically attractive man - and I have to admit was getting a bit wound up myself.

We ended up on the top floor, in what had been the attic and after we'd basically finished the tour, sensing what was going on between Charles and I, Barbara suggested to Steve that they go off for a coffee. It was quite funny really, Steve, not knowing anything about his father and I, couldn't understand why we didn't all go. Why Charles said he wanted to stay on, that it was all right for Steve to take the car, he'd get a cab home later. Anyway, eventually Barbara got Steve out of the way and - well, things sort of took off from there. As you saw, we didn't really waste very much time.' Her voice changing to a quite genuine tone as she added. 'But I'm really very sorry if what we did in your house offended you Roger.'

'Oh no, I wasn't offended Maureen.' I answered, gritting my teeth as the pressure inside my bladder began to get stronger.

'But when I saw you in the garden. The expression on your face...'

'I wasn't offended.'

'But?' There was a long moment of silence, her eyes stared deep into mine, then a small, tentative smile creased the corners of her mouth. 'Oh, I see - you got a bit aroused.'

'I was more than just a 'bit' aroused.'

'You got turned on by watching us fucking?'

'Partly that.'

Her face took on a puzzled look and she asked. 'What else then?'

'Oh nothing. It's silly.'

'No it's not, even now you look incredibly tense, please tell me.'

I paused for several seconds, by then I needed to get to bath-room urgently and I thought if I answered her I could break away.

'It was seeing your hands, even though they were holding Charles, I remembered the way they felt that time at the exhibition, how sensational they felt.'

'Really!' she exclaimed delightedly. 'Just the thought of my hands did that?'

'Yes. But now, look, I'm sorry but I simply must go to the bath-room, I'm nearly bursting. I won't be a minute.' I said as I turned to leave.

And was stopped dead in my tracks by her response.

'Would you like some help?' she asked quietly.

'Pardon?'

'Let me help you, I'd like that.' she replied, then, not waiting for my answer, simply walked past me and down the corridor towards the bath-room.

Even though I didn't know what she really had in mind, because the need to relieve myself had become almost unbearable I had no choice but to follow her and when I turned back from closing the door behind me I saw her sitting herself down on the lid of the toilet, beckoning me. When I stood in front of her she briefly glanced up into my eyes, a tight smile on her face, then unhurriedly began to unfasten my trousers, not just the zip, but the belt and fastening too, then pushed them and my briefs down over my hips, letting them fall down around my ankles.

I watched her long, slender fingers at work, feeling my cock thickening in anticipation of having them touch me and felt it respond even more strongly when, after she'd got my trousers out of the way, they lightly brushed my inner thigh.

'First things first.' she said as she got up again, lifted the lid and moved to stand beside me. 'Although a full bladder can often make a good cock even better I'll let you have your piss first.'

She half-turned and reached down across me, her fingers momentarily cupping my balls before closing gently around my partially aroused cock and, holding it so it pointed down into the toilet bowl, said. 'Go ahead.'

Not surprisingly, nothing happened, at least not for several long, silent seconds. The situation itself, coupled with the feel of her fingers lightly holding me evaporated all thoughts of a simple piss - triggering far more exciting ideas. But, pushing those to one side and concentrating on the tight discomfort caused by my over-full bladder finally did the trick and I heard Maureen give a sigh of satisfaction as the stream began, haltingly at first and then with its more usual power.

She wasn't content to just hold me though, once sure that she had an uninterrupted flow she began to play with it, directing it around the bowl, slowing it by squeezing my cock tightly, then easing her grip, letting it reach full force again. When I glanced sideways at her I could tell by the rapt expression on her face and the tinge of colour that was spreading up over it that what she was doing was getting her excited too.

'You really did need to go.' she said quietly as the heavy stream still continued. 'Lovely!' Then, as she saw and felt it finally slackening off. 'Oh dear, it's finishing. Never mind, that was terrific.' Adding, as though speaking to herself as she squeezed and shook it dry. 'Now, let's get those last few drops.' And then, when she was satisfied there were no more. 'Now, I wonder what else he's got for me!'

Her fingers curled lightly around the shaft and began to glide back and forth and when she felt it almost instantly responding to her touch she looked up and gave me a smile. 'Nice?'

'Mmm, of course.'

'Good - it'll get even better in a minute. Aah, it's starting to get bigger and stiffer already!' she said as she felt my cock growing in response to the skilful manipulation of her fingers - then, pausing for a moment, supporting it mid-way along the shaft with the palm of her hand, she added. 'It really is a magnificent cock Roger, you're very lucky to have such impressive equipment. Now, let's see how much bigger I can make it, then just how much of that lovely creamy stuff you've got for me.'

As she spoke she ran the palm of her hand slowly back and forth along the underside of the shaft and I could feel it steadily lengthening and stiffening as more hot blood surged into it. The gentle touch of those beautiful, long and so very soft fingers was so stimulating it only took a couple of minutes for the veins to become swollen and knotted, the bulging head turning a dark plum-red, its skin becoming taut and glossy.

I moaned with rising pleasure, my cock jerking higher as the pressure inside me increased. Seeing my reaction, she slid her hand right down to the base, turning it and using just the tips of her fingers, lightly stroked my tightly swollen balls. 'Ah yes, I can feel how full they are, tight and heavy,. But I'll soon be emptying them for you. Until then, just enjoy it!'

After a few more of those gently tantalising strokes she curled her hand around the base of my cock, giving it a squeeze before gliding back up along the shaft. Then, in spite of the rush of thrills I'd already been feeling, I felt a shiver run through me when, on reaching the head, her fingers slipped up over the top of it. I looked down at her hand; watching as those soft, white fingers went to work on my cock-head, spreading the slick film of steadily oozing pre-cum as she slowly but insistently skimmed them around and over the head itself - then in and out of the deep groove behind it - and every now and then, grazing the sensitive ridge beneath with the tip of one finger-nail.

Her hand really did have a magical touch. Sometimes using her finger-tips, sometimes the smooth flatness of her palm, she played my cock as though it were some sort of musical instrument. Sensations of utter delight spiralled through me as she slowly, skilfully worked it up to its maximum size and hardness - then somehow made it even bigger, creating a quivering, throbbing mass. As it grew and the tremors running through me strengthened I felt my body arching, every muscle tensed, my head thrown back, eyes shut tight, teeth clenched.

Then, through the intensifying red haze I heard her speaking to herself, quietly, in a hoarse whisper. 'Oh yes, yes that really is magnificent. I can imagine what it would feel like having that rammed up inside me. But then I wouldn't be able to see it, watch it growing, until it's so big it looks as though it's about to burst. As it looks right now! Now to build up a really fantastic head of steam inside those big, beautiful balls.' she said breathlessly as she slipped beneath my arm and pressed herself against my side.

Taking a tight grip of my arse with one hand she steadily increased the strength of the other's wristy strokes and I grunted as wave after wave of tortured pleasure surged through me. The pressure from the accumulating semen rose even higher and I could tell from the way my hips were jerking forwards, as though trying to fuck her hand, that my iron-hard cock was close to bursting point.

She took me right to the brink, until my achingly full balls were drawn tight up against the base of my throbbing cock, their contents churning, needing just that one final, decisive stroke to trigger its discharge.

Then, by altering the way she was handling it, held me there!