Joan Revisited

I am now 20 ... possibly 19 (the constant trickle of the sands of time have eroded some of my memory) and am working in my father’s business.  Going to University had crossed my mind, but I knew I’d always end up working for my Dad and took the view that learning “on the job” was the best way forward. I started at the bottom, and was shown no favouritism, and thus the initial stigma of being “the boss’s son” soon wore away.

I had a girlfriend, Juliette. A lovely girl who went on to marry a soldier and had about 15 kids (I exaggerate ... she had 4). Juliette was a church-going girl who had firm beliefs that there should be no actual sex before marriage. Fortunately, this ban did not extend to heavy petting (as it was called back then) and I would usually end up coming between her rather delicious breasts.

There had been no other gay interludes, although I had certainly not closed my mind to that happening again. Indeed, I often fantasised about having actual sex with another male.

Sundays followed a similar pattern. Juliette would go to church in the morning, attend a religious group in the afternoon, and then go to evensong. We would meet up about 8.00pm and go for a drink and then back to her flat.  I was still living at home.

My Sundays would normally be spent with mates in the pub at lunchtime, and then the cinema in the afternoon.  However, one Sunday I was walking past Dave’s house on my way to the pub and Joan was stood in their front garden.  She had hit the bottle even harder after her marriage breakdown, especially as she was now effectively living alone with Dave away at Uni. Our previous “experience” was a thing of memory and we had never talked about it. 

Anyway, we chatted a bit, and Joan asked where I was off to. I told her, and she asked “Mind if I come with you?” I had no problem with that as I knew there would be people she knew in the pub. I assumed she just did not want to go in on her own. (It was not the “done thing” for women to go into pubs alone back then).

However, we ended up spending the entire lunchtime drinking and chatting and then she decided to buy some cider to take back.  A couple of mates asked if I was going to the pictures but they all knew I was with Dave’s Mum so no particular eyebrows were raised when I declined. I had already decided that I was going to finish our unfinished business that afternoon.

We walked back to her house and into the kitchen. I decided not to pussyfoot around and, as she put the cider bottle in the fridge, I turned her around, pushed her up against the kitchen units, and kissed her.  She responded immediately, and I soon had my hand up her skirt and was pulling her knickers to one side so that I could get my fingers onto her clit (I had Juliette to thank for teaching me that the clitoris was the way to a woman’s heart)

Almost immediately, she undid my jeans and was having fun with my cock. She then pulled away, took off her panties, hoisted up her skirt, and perched herself on the edge of the kitchen table. I needed no further invitation. I waddled across to her, with my jeans around my ankles, and slid deep into her. As we fucked, I undid her blouse and pushed her bra up so that I could squeeze her tits as I pumped away.

There was no premature ejaculation this time and I felt a great deal of pride when she started to orgasm. I was not wearing any protection and thought about pulling out when I realised I was going to come. Then I thought “fuck it” and exploded inside her.

Soon she was cleaning my cock with her mouth, sucking the last drops of juice from me.

Twenty minutes later, she was again on the table but this time face down. While I fucked her from behind, I started to work my thumb into her ass. She immediately squealed with pleasure so I pushed it in deeper. She came immediately, and so did I

The next couple of years followed a similar pattern, the only breaks coming during Uni holidays. Even then, we would exchange a kiss and a grope whenever Dave was out the room. He knew that I would take him Mum to the pub on Sundays and thought I was a great mate for doing so.

Joan, for her part, taught me so much; how to pleasure a woman with my mouth and tongue; how to perform anal sex without causing pain, and the joys of light bondage and punishment.  However, the drinking had become a real problem and, towards the end, we stopped going to the pub because she started to get a bit loud and, quite frankly, I was never sure whether she would say something to blow our secret.

Juliette, however, finished with me during this period because she believed I was seeing someone else. My mistake was trying out the lessons Joan had taught me with her. I think trying to persuade her that me fucking her up the ass would not be counted as “sex before marriage” was the final straw

Eventually, Dave persuaded his Mum to go into a clinic to treat her, by now, obvious alcoholism. She stayed on the wagon for a couple of years, but sadly had a stroke which incapacitated her so much that she spent her final years in a nursing home. She died a few days after her 52^nd birthday