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It was quiet few days for the three of us; Tim and I trying to find a few minutes to be together and Mum detecting something in the air; I’m not sure whether she picked up on the sexual tension between us or if it was a new feeling of… closeness?
It must have been that. Previously it had been about sex or the excitement of the build up to it. But it was becoming more and more evident that we just enjoyed each-others company.
Our relationship had been OK up to our teens. After all, once taken away from Dad and the rest of our family, we were all that we had. My hormones came along when I was twelve and I became a woman; moving away from all those closest to me had made me grow up quite quick anyway.
Tim’s on the other hand were very, very late and, while he was eventually to be extremely well endowed in later years, his hormones came five or six years after mine, and two kids that had been really close drifted simply because one had her adulthood thrust her while the other spent much of his mid teens still reading comic books and dreaming about the model railway that was actually in the attic all the time.
But I was away for the time when I should have been around, and could have helped Tim growing up and getting out into the world. This was thanks to my desire, no NEED to put distance between Mum and I. I only saw him four or five times a year; then after graduation and our falling out I was totally estranged from him and Mum for about eight years while they carried on their very own strange way of life.
When Mum had her first stroke, we hadn’t talked or exchanged so much as a birthday card. I knew by that stage that any cards I sent Tim would end up in a shoe box in the loft so sent them to him via the student union office at Manchester Polytechnic, then the Arts department were he’d got a job. He reciprocated on my birthday and we kind of stayed in touch though Aunt Veronica.
It was thanks to Ron that I found out about the stroke.
By that time Tim had grown into a man, had gone through adolescence, matured up to a point and had basically ‘caught up with me’. Once we had ‘cleared the air’ between us, it was like the intervening years had disappeared and we just started where we had left off a bit less than twenty years ago on that day my period started. I had met an old school friend, some guy I’d not seen since childhood and was seeing him in a new light.
It turned out we laughed at the same jokes, liked that same movies (while Mum was in hospital we occasionally went to the cinema to watch them) read the same books and had the same social outlook on life. Mum didn’t and resented that we did. I think she had an inkling that my relationship with Tim might have moved in the same kind of direction that hers had and for that reason she was desperate to regain her access to upstairs to find out.
This now left the matter of where I was going to sleep. The previous week I had said to them both that I did not want to sleep on the sofa again as it was so uncomfortable. On a personal note neither did I want my room back as it would mean that if Tim and I wanted sex at any time we’d lose the benefit of a floor and a noisy stair lift to let us know Mum was on the prowl.
It was decided that the front room would remain a spare room, much to Mum’s chagrin. She whined that Tim should put his model railway back in the loft so I could have ‘my’ room back; back to normal, readily under surveillance and just how she wanted everyone.
Tim came up with the perfect option. The large, high orthopaedic bed he’d purchased for her would be brought upstairs. Mum’s old bed (and Tim’s copious semen stains I worked so hard to spread over it) would go to the rubbish tip and he would buy one of those folding sofa beds for the downstairs sitting room, to bring it back into daily use after all this time.
Mum, I could see, was struggling with that. To try and cheer her up Tim said he would put another TV in their so they had the option of not having to watch the same programme, (she loved soaps and he hated them) and she could use it as a day bed.
Other than not being able to find out what we were doing to each other, the main reason Mum was having such an internal battle was the remnants of her lower middle class English concept of ‘The front room’, which was the best room, never used, kept for high days and holidays and not to be entered for any reason. Which is what it had been for my whole life, in fact, when I came home to visit her in there it was the first time I’d so much as seen the pattern of the terrible wallpaper in there. Fortunately Tim had removed it and repainted before he installed Mum in the room.
That was that; We threw ourselves into action that first weekend. He phoned a music shop in town and sold the upright piano that had sat unplayed and untouched for all of my life. Mum tried to complain but Tim simply said there was no room and it was pointless keeping it if we could money for it. She shut up for the time being.
The men collecting it smiled and expertly escort ataşehir wheeled the thing out of the house, and while the tail-lift was lowered the older of the two men unlocked it, played a few dramatic chords that were slightly flat then announced it would take a bit of a retune but had a fantastic tone. It was the first time I’d ever seen the lid lifted and for the life of me I could never understand why we’d had it. I expect that Grandma Lawrence said that all ‘nice’ houses had one.
Next we went to a large furniture shop with a very ungracious Mum in tow we ordered a fine looking sofa bed. Mum complained about the price but I said that as I would be using it most I would pay for it. She grumbled something like ‘about time you paid for something’ but I let it go.
On Thursday I took Mum out as promised to buy a new rug and Tim put the fuse back into the chair lift. By chatting with a college maintenance man he’d also worked out a method of fitting a small buzzer to the power button so it gave out a low warning buzz when ascending or descending. Tim’s explanation would be that the stair width meant that the engineer had to fit a buzzer for reasons of health and safety. Even I thought it made sense and I knew it was rubbish!
Tim took her orthopaedic bed to bits and used the lift to carry it upstairs in time for the council to come and collected the old one.
Once back and ‘you’ve JUST missed the repair man’, we laid the new carpet we’d bought, and finally put in the new sofa, a big second-hand colour TV complete with a video player. The dark dingy ‘best room’ had gone and I finally had my own space in my childhood home again after all those years.
While this was going on Mum, sitting on her chair like she was the Queen Mother, still bitching about the loss of her ‘best room’, complaining about the buzzer and that it would be enough to give her a headache, ascended.
Tim had told her the story that the engineer had said that it was a legal requirement and the lift would stop working if it was deactivated. This also had more than a smack of reality about it as the man from the gas company had told her that it would be against the law if she used her gas heater with the ‘drafty’ air vent blocked again, and had left her with a form explaining all about carbon monoxide.
“I suppose it makes good sense,” she said with extremely bad grace, as she whined her way to the top of the stairs for the first time in over six months. The light and space hit her full on and I don’t thunk she knew whether to be happy or sad. The miserable green, browns and creams the house had been decorated in for the last twenty years had gone and were replaced with yellow, white, blue and apple. But she finally realised that her reign over her family had ended, and what was worse I looked likely to be the if not the Queen at least the King’s chosen consort.
Listening to her tut-tutting and sighing from upstairs we talked excitedly about our first movie night – I even suggested renting some porn, something neither of us had even seen before!
Having taken my last pill a couple of nights before I hoped desperately that my withdrawal bleed would hold off one more night so we could christen the new bed. I’d felt the familiar gentle glow within my womb and the tiny patch of light brown discharge in my knickers that told me the next day I would come on in earnest.
I told Tim and without further ado, he bent me over the end of the unfolded sofa bed we had been inspecting, raised my denim skirt and pushed me forward so my knees rested in the mattress, and putting his knees either side of mine released that huge cock of his from his jeans and rested it between my arse cheeks while he pushed his trousers and boxers down. Satisfied that all was ready he pulled down my knickers and in no time I felt his hard mushroom headed cock force a path through the faintly damp skin at the entrance to my cunt. After a few thrusts he was in me and powering in and out, having generated my moisture himself. I gasped trying to withhold my groans from Mum who was pottering around in her bedroom reacquainting herself with her drawers and cupboards and bits and pieces, not believing that the post war utility furniture Tim had painted white was the same stuff she’d been given when she first married Dad.
I was getting down to what I knew I would miss for the next week, and let Tim use me how he would; knowing that I was trying not to make too much noise he slapped my arse occasionally and chuckled at my hissed admonitions to him not to alert Mum. For his part his slid a pussy wet thumb into my arse and wriggled it until he was quite successfully pushing the shaft of his cock on my G-spot and I cried out in orgasm. He kept on fucking me, until he too reached his climax spilling himself deep into me, the last of his come would trickle out with the first blood of my unused, discarded womb lining when I went to the bathroom an hour later.
We slept apart that night for the first time that week and I did feel the tiniest kadıköy escort bit lonely. I hoped that Tim would creep down in the night but we’d both been really busy the days before with shopping, furniture moving and getting Mum to shut the fuck up.
I woke refreshed on a sunny Friday morning, and while I’d reminded Tim several times that it was the time of the month, he did his usual and I woke to find him at the foot of my bed, naked but for his boxer shorts tented by his huge cock, with toast, a mug of tea and a big smile.
He knelt on the bed with a grin and handed my tea over. I sat up and took the cup from him, I couldn’t help but grin at his cheeky smile and ever hopeful countenance.
“Tim,” I said, “it’s my time of the month, you can’t have me today darling,”
“Oh, that’s OK, I know what to do when it’s time of the month, I won’t put it in there, I’ll do what I did with Mum.” He said expectantly.
“Oh OK then, you can do it,” I said with a hint of resignation in my voice.
“Can you pull your knickers down a little bit?” he asked hopefully but with an extra glint in his eye.
I guessed what he wanted to do and grinned.
“Oh alright then,” I chuckled and listening for the whine of the chair lift, slipped my panties off (like everyone I wore tampons in those days) and pulled my nightdress T-shirt over my head. Drinking the last of my tea, I knelt on the bed and prepared myself for the inevitable wanking session that would result in a gallon of his come splashing from my arse to my shoulders depending on how excited he was.
I lay there for a moment wondering what was keeping him, annoyed for a moment by my morning hair continually falling over my face. I reached to the bedside table and found my hairband and dropping to my elbows used my now free hands to tie back my hair and as I did so he returned and I felt his weight on the bed and his legs kneel either side of mine and I settled my weight on my elbows and knees, closed my eyes and laid my head on my folded arms and without turning back I purred in a little girl sing-songy voice,
“OK, Timmy, I’m all yo-ours!”
“Oh yeeeeah,” he breathed, “I haven’t done this in aaages.” He said putting his hand in the small of my back to hold me down. Both he and Debs knew this was something I really liked. Next I felt his prick resting in the crack of my arse as he had done quite a few times now. I was so relaxed that I only just heard his voice.
I was about to remonstrate with him that he’d started fucking me a few months ago and I’d let him come on my arse a couple of times at least during that time. It was a good job I was so relaxed for as I opened my mouth to speak I felt his cock slide back between my buttocks and then in one quick movement he was pushing his long penis against my anus and he slid almost all the way in with one slow, strong but amazingly gentle stroke!
“Oh shit,” I gasped feeling a little pain, as my body tensed at his intrusion, “Tim… Darling,” I said, unsure of what to do and whether to let him have my arse. Tim for his part, had started to very gently fuck just the tip of his well lubricated cock in and out of my arsehole whether I had anything to say about it or not. Fighting the urge to tense up, I made myself relax and felt his hands take a grip of my bottom in the same way he did when he took me on my hands and knees in my pussy, so I decided to let him use me as he obviously had Mum. Funnily enough he had never mentioned this aspect of their sexual relationship before, and as I lay there getting more and more turned on by his intrusion, thought it might not honestly have come up.
But Tim was just really matter of fact about the anal sex, and continued pushing in and out of my rear hole.
“You OK Lainey?” he said, starting to work further into my bottom as I’d encouraged him to do when doggie fucking me.
“Yes,” I gasped, “I’m fine Tim,” my voice shaking with the pounding that my body was starting to receive from my brother the stud, “do you know something Tim?” I panted, feeling the strangest full yet sexy feeling I’d ever known.
“What,” he replied.
“We’re equal now.”
“Equal?” he said slowing up.
“I took your cherry, You’ve just taken my anal virginity…”
“What?” he gasped, stopping his action for a second, “What? You mean… you’ve never had it… up this one…”
“Nope,” I panted, pushing my shoulders into the bed and leaning back to get more of him further inside me, “not once, not never. Couple of boyfriends” (I didn’t think I needed to mention girlfriend,) “asked me to, or played with my back hole but you are the very first to get his dick in there.” I closed my eyes and turned my head so he could see my smiling face.
“Wow,” said Tim with a raise in his voice, “wow, that is so great… shit, what an honour. Thank you Elaine,” he said, “thank you for letting me be your first!”
“Didn’t notice you asking me if you could Tim,” I gasped, grasping the sheets and getting into the buggery I was receiving, maltepe escort bayan “but I’m not complaining and, to be honest,” I said, “I’m glad it’s you.”
“I’ll see you enjoy it then,” he said and putting one hand in the small of my back (he knew this turned me on) he grasped my thigh with the other and started to pull himself in and out of my arse giving me the full length of my cock in and out, in and out until I was totally wrapped up in anal sex.
I knew from the slight swelling he was getting close and wanted desperately to come with him. So snaking a hand under me and between my thighs I found my clit and started to stroke it vigorously. His gasps announced that he was nearly there I rushed to catch him up before he spilled his copious gift into my bowels.
Just in time I joined him as he gasped and panted through his orgasm, and I felt the warm wetness of his come spill deep into my tightest hole.
“Anal virginity gone Tim,” I gasped wriggling my arse to let him know I was still there, “thanks Darling.”
“You are most fucking welcome Lainey,” he giggled pulling his huge but now deflating cock slowly out of me.
He disappeared for a few moments then returned with some soft wipes and toilet tissue and cleaned me up. We lay there recovering, my bottom tingling slightly and enjoying the warmth of his semen still in there.
It transpired that he’d once gone to her room for ‘cock time’ and she’d told him she was ‘on’. Unaccustomed to being turned down by Mum he had apparently whined about his aching balls and the need to relieve the pressure in them.
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” she had grumbled, “use the other one then, but go easy it isn’t really designed for that.”
Tim said he would have settled for a wank but obviously having felt that massive cock of his wielded from behind she wasn’t going to let a little thing like the last gasps of her menstrual cycle hold things up. She had reached an age when periods were few and far between and hard to predict, but still copious and painful.
At least that was what she’d told him. Her age and his description and lack of any sign of sanitary towel or string of a tampon made me think that on the first occasion it had been because she was on, but once she’d been buggered by him that was that, and she had a little bit of him ‘around the tradesman’s entrance’ when the feeling took her.
Initially lubricating herself with Vaseline, she soon moved on to KY jelly and the tube must have sat in their bathroom cabinet until he needed it, today.
We lay together and discussed our liaison, I promised that the next time I came and saw him, three weeks from now, I’d be well and truly over my period and ready for him to fuck me properly in the hole he was meant to go in.
“But I can use your bottom every now and again can’t I?” he grinned.
I moved slightly to get my tea, and felt the hot come move in me,
“Now you’ve been kind enough to introduce me to that particular pleasure it would be rude of me not to let you…” I paused, as much for my brain as his, “to let you fuck my arse.”
“It is such a fantastic arse after all,” he said with grin, taking my mug and sipping some of my tea.
“Compliments like that will get you everywhere,” I said.
“I do hope so,” he grinned handing me my mug. He leaned in to kiss my lips when we both heard the whine, now feeling like a drone almost as if it was Mum herself, of the chair lift bringing her downstairs to see what we were up to, five minutes too late.
Tim had more than enough time to get his boxers back on and drop the tissues into my bin, take my empty tray and leave the room to meet Mum almost all the way down. I walked out of the room shaking my nightdress T-shirt down over my well-fucked bottom as she reached the end of her ride.
After a night’s sleep, a mug of tea and my first experience of being buggered I really needed the bathroom! I wished Mum a good morning and trotted past her up the stairs pulling my T-shirt across my bottom not wishing to flash her anything, realising at the last minute that all this would do was show her that I wasn’t wearing any panties.
Then reaching the bathroom I thought, ‘fuck it, if it gives her a few weeks of groaning and bitching to herself then all the better’. It would keep her brain active at least.
When I got to the bathroom I sat down in relief, and did what I had to. Standing up, I looked in the bathroom cabinet for the lube and saw the tube of KY jelly, just slightly out of place from where it had rested innocently and hidden for at least two years. Feeling that devilry in me that had made me talk to her in her sleep, I turned it from how it had sat anonymously side on, so the blue of the tube and the ‘KY’ leapt out. The cabinet was the girly one and had shampoos and conditioners, moisturisers, cold cream, make-up remover and other ‘women’s tubes’ and chances are Tim wouldn’t look in it until he wanted to fuck my arse again.
By the time I trotted back down the stairs, washed, brushed and ready to face the day, Mum was in the kitchen eating her breakfast. I dressed in my denim skirt of the day before and, like a school girl pushing boundaries, I rolled the top of the denim to shorten the skirt by a couple of inches and it sat nicely on the curve of my bottom.
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