“What time will they go?”
“Around five.”
“Great, I’ll be back at five to.”
“Your father said he would be home early this evening, I don’t know what time though. Probably sixish, but it could be any time.”
We realised that sleeping together was not the simplest event to arrange. Peter went out and I got on with the ironing.
My mobile rang. It was Richard.
“Sorry darling I have to go to Paris tonight, could you pack me a bag please? I’ll have it picked up mid-afternoon.”
My heart started to pound. We were going to be alone. Peter and I would be in the house all night together. That immediately aroused me. I wanted to take all my clothes off, go into my conservatory, log on and write another part of my ‘novel’ about a Marta Hari type spy in the American Civil War who sleeps with men and women from both the Union and Confederates. I usually do that when I want to masturbate and I badly wanted to do that right now, but I would have no need of the stimulus of writing an erotic story. The mere thought of what lie ahead would be enough. I didn’t masturbate though. My helpers were there and the conservatory was too open.
My immediate reaction was to phone Peter and tell him, but I didn’t. I thought He would enjoy the surprise and in any case I still wasn’t totally sure. Having a love affair with your mother or your son can bring so many complications for both parties. I struggled through the afternoon alone.
After finishing the ironing I had a long, hot bath. I pampered myself by washing my hair, painting my toe and fingernails with a vivid scarlet varnish and rubbing lots of moisturiser into my skin.
The driver collected Richard’s bag around three and Pat left at quarter to four. I slipped into my tracky suit with nothing underneath; I like doing that at home.
“Why don’t you have an early day” I said to Bob just after she had gone.
“Why thanks a lot Cat, I appreciate that.”
I was alone. I went indoors unzipping my top on the way. I stood in the secluded courtyard by the garage and slipped the top off. I know that no one can see into that area so I took the trousers off as well. I love being naked around the house and in the garden and that is not for naturist reasons, it’s purely sexual.
I strolled indoors and into my conservatory. I looked at the floor where I had lain all those months ago when this thing with Peter started. I remembered vividly lying on that floor as he photographed me, as he persuaded me to undress until I was just in my panties, as he undressed, as he pulled my panties down, as he rubbed my clit, as his fingers went into me and as I stroked and rubbed his cock. What I remembered most vividly was cupping my breasts and seeing his cock exploding and streaming so much cum all over my boobs.
Feeling extremely worked up sexually I went and changed
I heard his key in the door
“I’m home” I heard Peter shout when he let himself in through the front door at around half past five. “Anyone around?”
“Just me” I replied. “I’m in the conservatory.”
“Wow you look dolled up.”