The Liberation Of Father Mortimer
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I was fortunate enough to secure a position as the night porter at a home for elderly well to do Jewish people. I was the only non-Jewish person in the place. I was twenty-three when I started my new job. My duties were limited to nothing more than security, and if a resident pressed the alarm button I along with the duty matron would investigate what the problem was. Even though I was not of their faith I was warmly welcomed to the home.
There was one lady in particular who was very helpful and supportive to me. Her name was Sarah Goldman and she was in her early eighty's. I liked her very much she had a warm almost mumsy personality. Sometimes during the night, she would come downstairs to my little room and we would play Chess. She was a very good player.
One night we were moving the pieces across the chequered board and I was actually winning for once when quite by accident she knocked the rook over and it landed under the table. As I bent down to retrieve it I saw something which I was not supposed to see. Sarah was on display? My face must have been more than a little red. All too soon it was time for her to go back up to her room.
I had been told not to have favourites among the residence but that was hard to do because some of the ladies were just so delightful. Every morning I took Sarah up a nice cup of Lemon tea. It was our little secret because had it been known I would have been swamped by requests for the same. In the autumn of my first year working there, there was an outbreak of a flu virus at the home,
The staffing levels were reduced dramatically. On Thursday night when I reported for duty, the female manager was waiting for me. Needless to say, my first thought was that I had done something wrong. We went into her office. I was convinced that I was going to be dismissed.
She came straight to the point. "I am fully aware that you are not a carer but we have a crisis. Can you please assist us during this difficult time."
"Doing what? I am the porter."
What she then said sent a ripple of fear right through me. "The ladies needed to be bathed just the same as always."
What could I say excep, "Yes, of course, I will help?" I was allocated, four residents, and Sarah was one of them. I was shaking when I ran the bathwater for the first one.
The ladies were grateful for my clumsy efforts and made things very easy for me. Sarah was last on my little list. As she slipped into the warm bubbly bath water she was talking to me about her daughter who would be back in England very soon for a couple of months. She was in Israel on business with her husband. I was now feeling just a little bit more confident about bathing ladies when disaster struck.
The whole house was plunged into darkness, there was a major power failure. It would be several minutes before the emergency generators would kick in. We were in total darkness. I had no idea what to do but Sarah did have a few ideas. She took my left hand and pushed it under the water and onto her slit. What a moment that was but there was more to come. She soon had my cock out of my trousers and what she said to me just before she gave me a good sucking was not very ladylike.
For several minutes we pleasured each other with Sarah telling me what to do? Then the lights came back on again. It was almost surreal because she then starting talking about Chess? As I was rinsing her off I noticed something. On her lower right arm was a faded serial number and I knew what that meant? Later that night Sarah and I set up the Chessman for another epic battle. We hadn't even made four moves each when she stopped playing?
There was sadness in her eyes. Something was very wrong. She knew that I had seen the number? She needed to tell me her story. Her family was arrested by the Nazis in Amsterdam in the spring of 1944 and deported to Auschwitz Birkenau. Sarah and her brother Chaim were selected for work in the area known as Canada. Nearly all the rest of the people on their transport including Sarah's parents were sent straight to the shower's?
The only thing that kept Sarah alive was the love and support of her brother. They had lived through hell. In January 1945 the camp was liberated by the advancing red army. All the German guards were shot where they stood. Sarah and Chaim came to England in the summer of 1946 and started a very small business in a back street shop selling fine cloths. Sarah and Chaim relocated to the city of Leicester and moved into a bigger and better shop. Their business was growing quite rapidly.
Life at the home soon returned to normal after the flu outbreak passed. In some ways, I wished that it hadn't. I had become rather good at bathing mature well to do ladies and I was much in demand?
One very windy and wet night I was in Sarah's room fixing the latch on the window because it would not close properly. She handed me a glass of red wine. We sat together chatting generally about nothing in particular. She opened the top drawer in the nearby cabinet and took out an unimpressive photo album. The first part were general photos of the family before they were decimated by the holocaust. Then there were quite a lot of pictures of Sara growing up. She was a pretty girl.
Sarah handed me her empty glass and suggested that we have another one. At the very back of the album, there was a brown envelope. My curiosity was aroused. It was sealed so whatever it was must have been quite confidential. We were on our third glass of red wine when she handed me the envelope. She told me to spread out the contents on top of her bed.
I was aghast when I saw what was in that envelope. There was a complete photographic record taken at fortnightly intervals of her pregnancy when she was carrying her daughter Linda. They were in black and white and very tastefully done. Sarah was stunning. We stood together looking carefully at each photo and she gave me a kind of running commentary.
I had no idea that I could be so aroused simply by looking ar something so natural. My stiffness did not go unnoticed. Then the unthinkable happened. She whispered things to me things which made me stiffen even more. She slipped off her nightdress and lay down on top of her photos. I didn't need her to tell me the significance of her actions. I almost tore my uniform off in my haste to mount her. I didn't see an elderly lady as I pounded her well-lubricated gaping slit. I only saw a beautiful naked pregnant woman.
Linda came to see her mother on her return from Israel. She brought her daughter Rebecca with her. Sarah introduced me to them and we sat together in the garden enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun. Her granddaughter was the same age that Sarah was when the photosTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
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Gay MaleIt was a simple sign in the woods, “Backstage Pass”. I had cycled to the end of a woodland trail, an old rail bed, and found a gate blocking the trail, presumably erected there by a property owner jealous of his privacy. The gate was flanked by barbed wire fencing that stretched away into the mixed hardwood bush on both sides as far as the eye could see. However, off to the right of the gate, nailed to a sapling, was the sign: “Backstage Pass”. Intriguing. Mysterious. Beside the sapling...
One day I received an engraved invitation at our agency's office. It indicated that I was invited, as a "World Class Patron" of the National Ballet Company of Capitallia, to a special ballet event for patrons only. It was to be an "Un-Dress Rehearsal" of the company's upcoming performance of "La Fille Mal Gardee" (The Girl Who Is Not Well Guarded). Well of course I knew what a "dress rehearsal" was but I had never heard of an undress rehearsal, so I read on. It seemed that during...
Note: This is Part II of the backstory on Jim and Monique, two grieving lovers who find each other on a private island in the South Pacific. In the previous installment, Jim meets Monique, who has anchored on the far side of his island, secretly, to stock up on fresh water before sailing to Hawaii. He tells her that if she had only asked he would have given her all the fresh water she wanted, and cooked dinner for her, too. In this installment, she takes him up on his offer. ———— December 27...
BACKLASH BY Vrykolakas Scot hit the enter key for the last timethat day--at least, in an officialcapacity. He rose to his feet, pushing back his wheeled chairand stretching,all in one flowing series of motions. He was proud of his strength, all thosehours of martial arts; looked like something was finally paying off. His legstrength alone could kick out a fire-door. He brushed back a few stubborn locksof hair from his eyes, and grabbed for his jacket and keys. It was time togo. Food, a...