This is my first contribution to this wonderful site and the first thing I’ve written in probably 30 years, so please be gentle with me!
I would value feedback though, as I want to keep writing and improve x
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It was a warm, late summer day and I was happy to be able to enjoy the afternoon sun for a while. I’d got home from work early, put on a nice floral summer dress and had time for a mango daiquiri in the garden before I needed to start getting dinner ready. My daughter, Lauren, had arrived home from work too, in her usual boisterous way.
“Looking good, Mum!” she enthused from the back doorway. “What’s that, is it cocktail night? I’m so up for that! I’m having one the second I get out of the shower. Back in a bit!”
“In a bit, sweetheart,” I chuckled, but she was gone. Oh, hold on, she’s back…
“I love that dress by the way, you look hot!” she chirped loudly from the kitchen. And then she was gone again.
“I’m fine thank you, sweet. Yes, my day was good, thanks for asking” I muttered towards the empty doorway, before relucantly heading inside.
As I cleaned the worktop, I remembered what had caught my attention as I arrived home earlier: a removal van across the road, just a couple of houses down. Some would call me nosey, I’d call me friendly and welcoming, but having checked it was still there, I found my sandals, made half a dozen cups of tea, put them on a tray with some biscuits and made my way over.
I was greeted with some thanks and even cheers from the small group of removal men, one of whom shouted into the house, alerting whoever was inside to the arrival of liquid refreshment and sugary snacks. I was suddenly the most popular person in the street and feeling pleased with my decision to do something kind, as each recipient thanked me in turn, a couple of them complimenting me on my choice of biscuits (chocolate Hobnobs – only the best).
As I went to put the tray down on the wall of the front garden, a tall, broad figure of a man, presumably the new resident, emerged from the front door. It’s no exaggeration to say I almost dropped the tray – the guy smiling warmly and walking towards me was gorgeous. I guessed early to mid 30s, about 6’2 or 6’3, give or take. Slim, but broad shouldered and muscular, dark hair swept back from his forehead and a shadow of stubble across a sharp, handsome jaw. The sheen of sweat on his neck and grubby white t-shirt were to be expected from a day of heavy lifting and only added to the appeal.
I involuntarily touched my hair, cursing myself for not brushing it. Was I sweating from my hour of sun-worship? God only knows what I looked like! At least I had a pretty dress on. Some might even say, my daughter included, a sexy dress. Mid thigh length, and I think I have nice legs for my age. It hugged my figure just enough to accentuate my hips and bum – yes I have quite a big bum, but a lot of men, and women, would say that’s not a bad thing. And without being too obvious, it was low cut enough to show off my best assets (36G in case you were wondering).
“Hi, I’m Ant. Thanks so much for the tea, that’s such a kind thing to do!” He spoke warmly, in a deep voice that almost made me weak at the knees. I could only place his accent as “somewhere south of here.”
I composed myself and shook his hand. It was big, his grip firm but gentle. I let the moment linger for a second longer than is probably considered normal, squeezing his hand and just drinking him in. I took a breath.
“Oh, you’re welcome! I’m Jill, welcome to the street! I live just there” I said, surprisingly calmly, before ruining it by gesturing idiotically towards my house. I folded my arms to stop myself from nervously waving them around.
I deflected the attention from myself by interrogating Ant about his job, his house move and anything else he wanted to share, and just enjoyed his smooth voice and blue eyes as I listened to him speak. Ant lives by himself, he’s single (internal smile from me, before reminding myself he’s a bit young for me and obviously way out of my league), he’s a manager at an engineering firm, and has moved to Suffolk from Hampshire to work on a major bridge-building project. A promotion meant a permanent move to the area, and he seemed to be relishing the prospect of a new start, a new life and a new job. Or at least he seemed more enthusiastic than most about moving to a sleepy Suffolk town which could most kindly be described as “quaint.”
Ant prompted me with some questions about myself, and having calmed down a little, I was happy to share the main headlines: I do admin and secretarial work at a large accountancy firm (which is every bit as dull as it sounds), I’m divorced and live with my daughter Lauren, who is 22 and is an events coordinator at a hotel. I bypassed the subject of my own age, because as I keep having to remind myself, I’m forty-fucking-seven.
“You’ve had quite a day then” I chirped, moving the conversation on from the inital gemlik escort introductions.
“The traffic was horrendous, and now this” he gestured towards two men struggling to fit a sofa through the front door. “But the van’s about empty now, we’re nearly done. Hey, is there a decent takeaway around here?”
I thought for a moment, contemplating which of the estabishments in our town might meet his approval. “Come to ours!” I blurted out. “I’m just about to start cooking, there’ll be plenty.” Fucksake Jill, I thought, leave the poor man alone, he’s exhausted, of course he doesn’t want to…
“Really..? Are you sure? That would be great! I mean I need to shower, but yes I’d love to, that’s really kind, thank you!”
“Not at all, it’ll be lovely!” I replied. Not the response I was expecting and I was glad I’d asked. “Oh and don’t worry about showering, we honestly don’t mind, just come as you are.” What can I say? There’s just something about a sweaty, muscular man in a grubby t-shirt. Shut up, yes there is, it’s masculine and sexy!
As I walked back to mine, I smiled, looking forward to Lauren’s reaction to our handsome dinner guest. Yes, he’s quite a bit older than her, but probably no closer to my age than hers. We have quite similar taste in men, I was sure she’d be impressed. I had no idea if anything was likely to happen, romantically or sexually, but she’s 22 and frankly gorgeous, if either of us stood a chance it was her.
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Three days later, I sat at my desk and thought about Ant. Not just about Ant, but Lauren too.
Dinner with the two of them had been lovely. Ant was a true gentleman, and very complimentary about my chicken and chorizo paella, not to mention the bottles of cold beer I happened to have in the fridge, the wine that accompanied dinner or the apple pie that followed. I was pleased with my efforts, and it seemed it was exactly what Ant needed after his exhausting day.
The conversation had flowed all evening. The three of us chatted about films, music, holidays, but mostly about Ant’s new town and the surrounding area. By the end of dinner, he was up to speed on the best shops, restaurants, pubs and attractions the place had to offer. The laughs flowed too, and Ant turned out to be as charming and funny as he was good looking.
Lauren was as smitten as I knew she would be. When he arrived at the door, I think she might have actually been speechless for a moment, which for Lauren is a rarity. Each time his back was turned, she would look in my direction with some exaggerated gobsmacked look on her face, or mouth the words “oh my God!” in a way that made it hard for me not to burst out laughing.
Eventually, she did make me burst out laughing. Ant had gone to the bathroom and Lauren had taken the opportunity to get a few observations off her chest. Several at once, actually.
“Mum!” She hissed in a hushed voice. “Where did you find him? He is literally a ten!”
“Well you know me Lauren, gorgeous men just follow me around, like bees to honey. Or flies around shit.”
She wasn’t listening. “Did you see his arms? And his chest? God, I bet he gives good snuggles. Naked ones. I’d let him snuggle me senseless. From behind. Or any way he wants. And he lives down our road?”
Lauren continued with her musings until footsteps could be heard on the stairs. She waited until the last possible second before delivering the line she knew would get me.
She stepped closer, her lips next to my ear, her voice a barely audible whisper. “I bet his cock’s huge.”
She had timed it perfectly, making me crack up in a girlish giggle just as the kitchen door opened. She is evil like that, it’s a good job I love her.
“Everything okay?” asked Ant, looking slightly confused.
I regained my composure just enough to get my own back. Revenge is a dish best served cold. I turned to her and put on my clearest and most confident deadpan voice: “I bet it is Lauren. Really thick, too.” She stifled a giggle and turned her face away from Ant. One-all.
I turned back to Ant with my best smile on. “Everything’s fine hun, thank you. We were just talking about the custard I’m making for the apple pie. We like it thick, I hope that’s ok?”
All evening I couldn’t help but notice the chemistry between Lauren and Ant. Lauren was in full, shameless flirtation mode. Polite, charming, PG, dinner table-appropriate, but nonetheless, sparks were flying. Lauren wore a dress too, shorter than mine, showing off her pale, slender thighs, which Ant couldn’t help but glance at occasionally. I couldn’t blame him, in fact it made me smile. She looked so beautiful.
The two of them were so deep in conversation as I tended to things in the kitchen that I almost felt like a third wheel, but while I was at the table they both made an effort to include me. It was such a fun evening, and I knew from seeing their enjoyment that there would be another.
Once Ant inegöl escort had left, in fact as soon as the door had closed, Lauren turned to me. “Mum, I think I want to fuck him” she uttered, quite bluntly, matter-of-factly, as is her way. “I mean, as long as you don’t mind?”
“Of course, sweet, I think you should! I mean look at him! Why would I mind?”
“Well, I mean you like him too, right? But just because I do, doesn’t mean you can’t. God, I bet he’d love that, I think it’s every guy’s fantasy, a mum and daughter. He’s definitely into you Mum, you should have seen how he was looking at you. I bet he wants you! I’m going to find out.”
Once again, Lauren had turned off her filter and her every thought was exiting her head via her mouth. Had he really been looking at me? I doubted it, but I wasn’t going to stop her doing whatever she was planning. Frankly, the thought of us both having sex with the same man excited me, especially a man like Ant.
It’s something we had discussed before, sharing the same guy. It made sense in that our tastes were so similar, and there was something kinky about it which clearly excited both of us.
Come to think of it, there wasn’t much we had’t discussed when it came to sex. Openness and honesty were a big part of our relationship. It was important to me that Lauren always felt she could come to me for advice, help, or just to talk. And she always did. Over the years there had been long chats about masturbation, boys, girls, positions, techniques, you name it, we had probably talked about it.
It had been just the two of us for nine years now. My marriage to Lauren’s dad had been difficult, and the divorce even harder. He hadn’t treated me well in either case, and although I never badmouthed him to Lauren, she knew. She would always have a hug for me, or a kind, encouraging word. During the worst of times, she sat down with me and told me she would stay with me, live with me, after it was all over. It made me cry with happiness to hear her say it. Her love meant everything to me. She was, and still is, the only thing that mattered.
The divorce settlement wasn’t particularly favourable to me. I should have fought harder for what was mine, but emotionally I was spent and didn’t have the strength for it. I still feel some guilt over it, I should have fought harder, for Lauren’s sake. But he was cunning and cruel, hiding money from the courts and seeing to it that I didn’t have enough for decent legal representation.
Still, with what I was left with, along with my job, I was able to afford a small house which Lauren and I were delighted to call home.
Over the following years, I realised that I’d missed out on a lot, especially sexually. I had always had a high sex drive and was finally free to indulge it. I made new friends, including a couple of gorgeous bisexual women, I was introduced to swingers clubs, I experienced sex with different partners, even multiple partners at once, and I loved the thrill and adventure of it all. I still do. It was exciting to know I was still capable of being desired by so many people, and I made the most of it.
As Lauren became a woman, she was not only supportive of my choices, but intrigued by them. She began to experiment sexually herself, and we would always talk quite openly our experiences with no judgement or awkwardness. I was more than happy to let her have partners stay over, and she felt safer knowing I was nearby. Likewise, she was delighted to see me happy and enjoying life and never complained if I did so in our home.
I looked forward to our chats. They would usually begin with a comment like “sounded like you were having a good night last night” and before long we would be sharing the details. We both found it intriguing, fun, and to be honest, arousing.
A more recent development was that we had started masturbating together. It had begun one quiet Sunday afternoon. I was carrying a pile of clean washing to her room. I should have knocked, but I was away with the fairies as I opened her bedroom door and found her in front of her laptop, both feet on the desk, headphones on, cheeks a little flushed, watching porn and rubbing herself under her PJ shorts. There was no shame or embarrassment from her, as I had always encouraged her that there shouldn’t be. She just laughed, which set me off laughing, until she shrugged and said “come and look.”
I sat on the edge of her bed and saw a gorgeous, dark haired girl being pounded from behind by an athletic, not unattractive guy, her face contorted in pleasure as he grabbed a handful of her hair and increased the intensity of his thrusts. Lauren unplugged the headphones and the sound came through, loud enough to hear the spanking he was administering to her arse and her intense yelps of pleasure.
I couldn’t help noticing that Lauren had continued to rub herself, not put off at all by my presence. The scent of her arousal, along with the intensity of the on-screen fucking escort bursa made me tingle as I felt the familiar warmth between my legs.
Lauren looked back and saw me peering around her shoulder. “Oh sorry Mum, here budge up, I’ll put it on the bed.”
And so we found ourselves side by side on her bed, the laptop in between us, and after only a short hesitation, my hand had made its way down my leggings. Lauren was already on her way to an intense orgasm, and as the guy on the screen pulled his impressive cock from his stunning on-screen partner before sliding it effortlessly up her perfect arse, Lauren’s toes began to curl. She drew her legs up and rubbed quickly and firmly, her thighs shuddering, her whimpered moans growing louder. I watched her, I couldn’t help it, the porn was just a sideshow now as she looked back at me, our eyes locked, hers burning with lust as she orgasmed in front of me.
It happened many more times, and we both agreed that sharing this aspect of our sex lives together was a huge turn-on. Sometimes toys would be involved, sometimes porn, other times not and we would just watch each other.
Despite this, there were still unspoken lines we wouldn’t cross. The only physical contact between us would be the brushing together of our bare thighs as we squirmed alongside each other, or the occasional hand holding, although in the context of the moment, those small things felt incredibly exciting. On one occasion, in the throes of her orgasm, Lauren’s head flopped over to me and she softly bit my shoulder. That’s all, just a playful graze of her teeth and lips on the tip of my shoulder and an exquisite flick of her tongue on my skin, but it felt so sensual and intoxicating and quickly sent me on the way to an intense, shuddering orgasm of my own.
I guess it would be natural to assume things would move on from there, that we would take things further. It certainly featured in the most deliciously naughty of my fantasies and I guessed the same might be true for Lauren. There was no denying to myself that I wanted it to happen. So why not, for someone like me who had spent the last few years seizing the moment and fulfilling my deepest sexual desires? Well for me it came down to a question of responsibility and care for Lauren. I love her more than anything or anyone in this world and I couldn’t live with myself if I caused her any pain or difficulty. She was 22 now, with a good job and the means to move out if she decided to, although she only ever said she wanted to stay here with me. But if she eventually had the opportunity to settle down with someone, maybe start a family, then I would never forgive myself if I did anything to hold her back from that. If anything more sexual was to happen between us, I needed it to be her decision, on her terms, with her making the first move, and then I would reciprocate. And so far, that hadn’t happened.
And so that’s me and Lauren. Two peas in a pod really. So alike in our personalities, our desires, our looks. She’s an inch or two taller than me, with a slim, shapely body that most men and some women would give an arm to grab hold of. A contrast to my curvier figure, and with slightly smaller boobs, but the same dark brown hair, only longer than mine, which just reaches my shoulders. Facially, people say we’re virtually identical, although I would argue that despite the obvious likeness, her youthful looks and doe-eyes are much prettier. She is as cute as a button, but hiding a wicked sense of humour and a delightfully naughty character.
As I sat at my desk, I pored over the messages I’d received from Lauren earlier that day.
Ant had messaged first, quite innocently. He’d taken a few more days off work to get settled into his new home and had asked if we had a paint roller he could borrow. We did, but I explained I was at work, but that Lauren might be home.
I messaged her and her replies came thick and fast.
“OMG!! Tell him to give me half an hour. Need to do my hair and makeup.”
“OMG Mum, I think I’m going to fuck him.”
I had smiled. She never meant to sound arrogant or presumptuous, it’s just that it never occurred to her that someone might not want to have sex with her. To my knowledge, no one has ever spurned her advances.
“What shall I wear???”
“You definitely don’t mind, right?”
“I’m so going to find out if he likes you”
“You would, right? Imagine if we share him, wouldn’t that be hot?”
I pondered what she meant by “share him.” Did she mean take turns with him? I smiled again as I pictured us drawing up some sort of weekly rota. Or did she mean something else? Did she mean we would both have him at the same time?
I replied to her messages in turn:
“I’ve told him to come over in half an hour. And yes, if you want to, you absolutely should, he’s hot! And no, of course I don’t mind, you enjoy him hun!”
“That blue dress. You look stunning in it, and it’s just casual enough that you might have been wearing it at home. I mean maybe not, but you’ll look irresistible without looking like you’re on a night out.”
“I know you’re going to find out anyway, whatever I say, but I don’t think he’ll be bothered about me darling, he’ll be far too interested in you! But yes, I would, you know I would!!”