Anthea s baby 1
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The Touch Ch. 23 free porn video
WARNING TO READERS – This is a long, rambling, multi-part story and VERY British. The individual chapters will make more sense if read in sequence.
The Touch Pt. 23 Successes and Surprises
Suddenly it was Easter and the gala re-opening of the garden centre was upon us. Although it was a Bank Holiday and the garden centre was closed to the public everybody came in to work on Good Friday to add the finishing touches so that everything was ready for the re-launch the next day.
Maggie had suggested that the family, Gwen, Emma and I spend the weekend at her house, as we would all need to make an early start on Saturday and would be working late. Gwen had taken Saturday off work from the hospital to join us as part of the ‘Meet and Greet’ management team, who would be looking after the customers and guests.
Also, there would be special guests for the weekend, Uncle Arthur and Aunt Laura would be coming down from London on Saturday morning for the Gala Day and staying at Maggie’s house until Monday. It had always been our intention to invite them to the re-opening and Maggie thought that it would be a good opportunity for us all to have the talk about the business over the week-end which would save our having to make a trip to London. The house had eight bedrooms and so there was more than enough room for all of us to stay for the weekend.
The gala re-opening day was a fantastic success. We were all up early on Saturday and after teas and coffees we went straight down to the centre. The staff had all been asked to come in for seven-thirty as we were opening for business at eight and Maggie had arranged for Grace to provide breakfast for everyone in the restaurant before we started work.
When we opened the gates at eight o’clock there was already a queue of cars waiting to be let into the car park and quite a crowd of pedestrian customers. By ten o’clock we were so busy that there were queues at both cash registers and people waiting for tables in the restaurant, Maggie, Gwen, Emma and I were run off our feet just circulating amongst the customers and guests, shaking hands and giving advice and guidance.
Grace had hired in several catering students from the college to man the hospitality tent in the back field and they were serving complimentary glasses of sparkling wine or fruit juice to all customers and handing out a printed discount card which entitled gala day customers to a discount during April, one of Emma’s bright ideas to promote ongoing business for the next month. Maggie had hired a entertainments firm to erect an inflatable ‘bouncy castle’ next to the hospitality tent so that parents could leave their children to amuse themselves whilst they browsed around the centre, there was a Punch and Judy show.
A local jazz band, ‘The Banjo Boys’, from Bath were set up on the other side of the tent on the back of our big lorry, who were playing to collect donations for local charities, and Maggie had promised to double any donations they received. The whole day had a happy, carnival atmosphere and everybody, staff and customers alike seemed to be really enjoying themselves.
As promised, Mark Dwight brought Charlie, his father, down to the centre to officially open and name the farm produce shop as ‘Gracie’s Fruit and Vegetables’, which was one of the points of key interest to the local press who took lots of photographs of the Dwights, Maggie and me for a local interest article…. all good, free advertising. The store had been so busy that morning that Mark had to send one of his hands down after lunch with a second delivery of fresh vegetables.
The new look garden centre was officially opened to a surprisingly large crowd of visitors, by Geoff Hamilton the BBC Television presenter of Gardener’s World at eleven o’clock who then stayed to receive a guided tour of the centre with Maggie and myself. Geoff was a really nice guy and was, like Maggie, a graduate of Writtle Agricultural College in Essex and paired up with Maggie to encourage me to enrol to take the National Diploma in Horticulture.
As I said goodbye to Geoff and watched Maggie walk him back to his car, I felt a light tug at my sleeve. ‘Hello Jamie,’ a familiar voice said softly from behind me. I turned around, it was Sharon Cooper, although it took me several seconds to recognise her she had changed so much in the six months since I last saw her. She was a bit slimmer although she still had a very impressive pair of tits, but she seemed to have lost weight from her face and hips.
Sharon was mid-twenties and for as long as I could remember, had dressed in black leather mini skirts, vivid coloured blouses, black patent, high heeled knee boots , and a short, fun fur jacket. Her make-up was always too bright, and her hair was bleached blonde and waist length, she probably had a look that many would call ‘tarty’, but I had always thought that underneath it all she was quite pretty.
Her appearance on that day couldn’t have been more different. Her hair was shorter and although still blonde had been allowed to grow out and had been professionally highlighted and her make-up was more subdued, a simple pale red lipstick which emphasised her shapely, full lips and a pale turquoise eyeliner making her eyes appear to be vivid topaz green.
The leather skirt and fun fur jacket had gone and had been replaced by a sky-blue printed ‘Queen’ rock band, t-shirt beneath a white crochet cotton cardigan and a chrome yellow wool mini skirt over sky-blue leggings that matched her t-shirt perfectly. The long boots had given way to short black leather, lace up, ankle boots. The overall look was far more fashionable than the old look Sharon, but also softer and much, much classier, she really did look terrific.
‘Hi Sharon. Wow! You look different…er, really great!’
‘Thank you,’ she smiled. I noticed that she also looked happier that when I had last seen her.
‘It’s really good to see you,’ I meant it.
I had always liked Sharon, she had a reputation as an easy screw and had picked up the nickname ‘The Bike’, and I guess that it was probably true, she had been my first shag when I was sixteen. They say that women always remember their first time, I guess that it is probably true of boys as well so she had a special place in my affections although I doubt that she remembered.
I took her elbow and guided her towards the hospitality marquee. ‘Come along, let me get you a glass of wine and we can catch up on what has been happening over the last six months.’
We took our drinks and sat at one of the small tables away from the crowd. I was drinking grapefruit juice, if I had had a glass of wine with every customer or friend I had taken to the tent that morning I would have been totally rat-arsed by mid-morning.
‘So what has been happening?’ I asked, ‘I can’t get over how great you look.’
‘I’ve started a completely new life,’ she stated simply. ‘New job, new flat, all of my own, I’ve even got my own car now.’
‘So what….?’
‘So it’s probably all your fault,’ she laughed. ‘It started after that last time I was with you, you were kind and caring and I just decided that I was done with being lonely and abused, I finally wanted my own life. Then just a few weeks later my arsehole of a father beat my mother up one time too many and she just packed her bags and left, I don’t know where she went, but she sent me a couple of postcards with a Scottish postmark.’
‘Oh God Sharon, I’m so sorry, that must have been awful…’
‘No, it was the best thing ever,’ she smiled, ‘Mum is well out of it, I hope she’s as happy as I am now….. I wasn’t staying at home on my own with Dad, and so it gave me the nudge that I needed to leave as well, I had money saved that he didn’t know about to get me started. Larry at the King’s Head pub let me stay in one of his guest rooms for free for helping out in the bar at night the first couple of weeks, I quit my job at th
e hairdressers and went in with Richard one of the guys that I trained with, he has his own shop and rents out chairs to self employed hairdressers and beauticians… I am fully qualified as both, you know, I rent a chair and work for myself.’
‘I’m really pleased for you, Sharon,’ I told her, ‘You really deserved a break.’
‘Richard, now lets me rent the flat above the shop, I’ve got all my own furniture, a car, new clothes, a new image, and a decent chance at a good future.’
I indicated that I would get her another drink but she declined. ‘I need to get back to work, I just wanted to run over to see you in my lunch break, say hello and give you my best wishes for today.’ I walked with her back to the car park and she handed me one of her business cards. ‘Will you come and see me some time … we could go for a drink … or I could make you something to eat, I’m even learning to cook now?’ she chuckled. ‘I still get lonely sometimes, but the really odd thing is that whenever I do, you are the one that I think about. I’m not sure that I should be telling you that, but it’s true…’ she added.
‘Yes, of course I will.’ How could I say anything different? Also, she looked so tasty in her new image and she was obviously putting me on a promise, one which I knew I would not be able to resist.
We exchanged a ‘friend’s kiss’ and she got into her car, a beige 1984 Ford Escort and as she drove away I noticed that she had a humorous ‘Do It’ sticker on the rear bumper that read ‘Gardeners Do It Outside’. I chuckled to myself as I remembered our assignations in the woods behind the golf course.
Uncle Arthur and Aunt Laura arrived about mid-day and Maggie went with them up to the house to get settled in and then she and Gwen took them for lunch in the restaurant. Uncle Arthur was my grandfather’s twin brother, their uncle and my great-uncle, was late seventies and lived in a large house on the Outer Circle of Regent’s Park with his eccentric wife Aunt Laura, but was still a really sharp businessman. He had been something big in the city, a well known business consultant, and his twin sons were both stockbrokers. I really like him, he reminded me of my grandfather who had died when I was about eight, and Aunt Laura was sweet although totally dotty.
By the time we closed up the centre at six o’clock everybody was exhausted but happy, but the day was not yet finished. Maggie and Grace had got together to put on a party for the staff and their families in the restaurant for the evening, there was a buffet, a free bar and a local DJ provided music for dancing.
Uncle Arthur and Aunt Laura were both close to eighty and so although they were pretty active just stayed for Maggie’s thank you speech to the staff and then went back to the house. The rest of us had a really fun evening, it was particularly nice that the family could all have a drink together as none of us had to drive home. I danced with virtually all of the women and girls at the party but, it was Emma who clung to me like glue, I think she had had a little too much wine, and Gwen and Maggie that left me horny and aroused from the closeness of their bodies as usual.
The employees with children started to drift off home about ten and I let the last couple, Mikey and his girlfriend, out and locked up just after mid-night. It had been agreed that everybody should have the Sunday and Bank Holiday Monday off work and that we would start early on Tuesday morning to get the restaurant cleared up and ready for breakfast business by eight.
The four of us sat for a short time in Maggie’s kitchen drinking hot chocolate and finishing off the remaining snacks from the buffet until Emma and Maggie said they were turning in for the night.
‘I think that I shall just take a walk around the garden and have a last cigarette,’ Gwen said, shrugging on her fleece jacket. ‘Do you want to keep me company, Jamie?’
We said our goodnights and watched as Maggie and Emma went upstairs then quietly slipped out of the back door into the garden and into each others arms.
‘Oh my darling, I have missed you so much, I’ve hardly seen you this week,’ Gwen breathed into my ear when our first long, tender kiss ended. ‘Do you think that anybody would notice if you sneaked into my room for an hour or two?’ She joked. We both knew that that was not a possibility.
We strolled down the garden to the arbour seat where we could not be seen from the house and sat just enjoying the closeness of just being together. I put my arm around her shoulders, turning her so that I could pull her face up to mine and our lips came together in a gentle, long kiss our tongues just very lightly flicking at each other tantalisingly.
Soon our kissing became more passionate, deeper and more insistent our lips hungry and our tongues thrusting and dancing as we breathlessly and urgently sank into an abyss of lustful wanting and pleasure. The kiss seemed to go on forever until we were both panting for breath and gasping with the wave of desire that was jerking our bodies together uncontrollably.
My hand was cupping her breast and I could feel the shape of an erect nipple through the fabric of her sweater and soft cotton bra, which hardened as my thumb caressed it with small circular motions.
‘Oh God, my darling,’ she moaned, ‘We have to stop … before it’s too late …. Oh, but I want you so much!’
Our mouths met again, creating a moist cavern in which our tongues wrestled and probed in parody of the lovemaking we were denying ourselves. I didn’t want to deny us any longer. I shifted around so that I was sitting astride the bench seat and pulled her to me sliding my hands beneath her skirt and easing her thighs over mine so that she was seated straddling my lap, then reached between us to unbuckle my belt, snap open my jeans and release my prick which stood up between us erect and quivering.
‘Oh Jamie, do we dare …?’
‘It’s OK,’ I whispered, ‘We can’t be seen and if anybody comes out then the security light will come on and give us warning.’
‘Oh God, this is soooooo naughty!’ she giggled softly and slid her hands beneath her skirt to pull aside the crotch of her knickers and then eased herself forward until I felt the tip of my cock touching the warm moistness of her slit. I was so ready for her that my prick was beginning to make tiny thrusts towards her vagina of its own accord and then she wriggled and I felt the glans catch and press slowly into her vagina and clasped her buttocks pressing her down onto my rock hard stiffness until she was seated firmly on my lap and my prick was sliding into her already wet pussy. She felt hot and tight and totally fantastic and we stayed still like that my prick halfway into her just revelling in the luxury of those stolen secret moments.
I felt her lift her knees and lean back a little and suddenly I was deep, deep inside her as far as my prick would go, and we were both gasping with the totally awesome sensation that comes for both partners with really deep penetration. I moved my face towards her so that we could kiss again and her arms snaked around my neck hugging me close as our tongues slowly mingled and brushed in time to the languid movements of our hips, my prick moving in tiny slow thrusts up and down no more than a single inch but enough to create a whole world of pleasurable sensation.
Then suddenly I felt my rigid erection harden even more and that familiar feeling, a tingling in my balls that heralded ejaculation.
‘I’m going to cum, Gwen …. I can’t stop it…!’
‘Oh yes, my darling, please do it, please…….’
Her arms hugged me tighter to her and her mouth found mine with a hard lust filled kiss and she thrust down hard with all her weight impaling herself onto me so deeply that my prick felt as if it was trapped in a moist velvet vice, the glans throbbing and ready to explode, and the my juices seemed to fill my cock with a liquid gushing, erupting violently
from the eye of my prick in several hard jets of hot jiz. She let out a sharp gasp as my semen gushed into her and then I felt her pussy begin to pulse and contract and she was reaching her own orgasm, her hips pounding her vagina down onto my still erect prick, as she moaned huskily into my throat, gasping until the storm of her climax had calmed and she relaxed limply, still on my lap and my semi-erect tool still inside her.
We remained like that, just holding each other for several long minutes.
‘Oh darling, I just can’t get enough of you… I need you to make love to me all the time,’ she giggled huskily, wriggling her hips in a lover’s tease. Then she added with a laugh, as if she had only just realised, ‘Bloody hell, last week it was the summer house and now you’ve just made love to me outside, on a garden bench, in my sister’s garden, with the whole family asleep just a few yards away, and we are sitting here with you still inside of me.’
‘Well you can’t complain that our sex life lacks variety,’ I retorted laughing. Making love with my mother was not only fantastic sex but was also fun, we had always shared the same slightly warped sense of humour and it had become a part of our relationship that added an additional erotic closeness.
We carefully untangled ourselves and then sat and smoked a cigarette before wandering back to the house arms around each others waists. I locked up and then waited down in the kitchen until I heard the door of her room snick closed and then went up to my own bed.
Sunday morning dawned dull and grey with the promise of rain later in the day and everybody remarked at breakfast that regardless of how Easter fell on the calendar it always seemed to rain. Maggie had prepared a full cooked breakfast of eggs, sausages, bacon, mushrooms and black pudding, and there was cereal for those who wanted it and plenty of toast and marmalade or honey to finish. We all made a real fuss of Uncle Arthur and Aunt Laura as we so seldom saw them these days and it was just great having most of the family around the dining table.
After breakfast Uncle Arthur took me by the elbow and steered me away from the others and into the small conservatory on the side of the house which had been Maggie’s studio where she had produced her sketches and watercolours for landscaping designs, until she moved into the new design office we had set up in the office block.
He indicated that we should sit opposite each other in two of the comfortable cane and wicker chairs. ‘There is something that you and I need to talk about before we have the family meeting.’ He had obviously prepared in advance for this conversation and he reached down and pulled his soft leather briefcase from beside his chair and laid it across his knees, tugged the straps undone and slid out a thin brown card file.
‘Do you remember much about my brother Gareth, your grandfather?’
‘Yes, of course,’ I said a little defensively. I had absolutely adored my grandfather and had spent most of my long summer holidays with him as a smaller child, either in London or at his cottage at Holkham in Norfolk. He had performed some business service for the Earl of Leicester and was allowed the great privilege of being able to rent a cottage on the Holkham estate. For me, being with Uncle Arthur was always tinged with a touch of sadness as, being my grandfather’s twin he looked, sounded and even smelt like him, they both used the same pipe tobacco, which seemed to permeate every item of their clothing, a comforting olfactory memory.
‘I’m sorry, that was a stupid question, of course you do,’ he said kindly. ‘You will also know about the rift between your mother and your grandmother which was at it’s height of stupidity at the time that Gareth got ill and then died.’
I just nodded, there were still gaps in my knowledge of the family affairs but I had never felt that I wanted to push Mum… Gwen, to tell me about them until she was ready.
Anastasia
- 22.05.2021
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