It was a glorious day in the Finchbottom Vale, though the occasion at the Childean Memorial Hall was a gloomy one, when Vincent Ellington saw her standing alone on the terrace, bathed in the afternoon sun and staring out into the distance.
Vincent was a thirty something accountant and longstanding family friend of the Land’s.
He walked up behind her and lightly stroked the back of Lisa’s naked arm.
“Are you ok honey?” he asked
“No not really” she replied and the tears immediately welled up in her eyes as she turned towards him, so he took her in his arms and she dissolved completely into tears.
“Its ok honey” He whispered, “let it all go”
And as she sobbed uncontrollably into his chest Vincent kissed the top of her head.
He held her close and stroked her back as she sobbed until she lifted her head and said
“I’m getting you shirt wet Vince”
“I don’t care” He replied and she broke down again which was when, to his eternal shame, he got aroused, very aroused.
He would have said in his defense that he was holding in his arms a very beautiful woman, and a woman he had not only lusted after for more than five years but who he had actually been in love with for four of those years.
What he couldn’t offer any excuse for was what he was thinking as she sobbed her heart out and he consoled her with his empty words.
And those shameful thoughts concerned him trying to imagine what she was wearing under her mourning clothes and his arousal was reaching epic proportions as he considered all the various options and the images in his head which were so vivid that he was close to tipping his barrow as he held her in his arms.
The only thing that prevented his discharge from happening was the sudden and unexpected arrival on the scene of Lisa’s mother.
Her mum took her back inside to grieve more privately but as Mrs. Land led her daughter away and offered her words of comfort he had to remain on the terrace for a few minutes longer due to his inability to walk.
That inability wasn’t helped in any way whatsoever by the fact that as he watched her and her mother walk away he still continued to think long and hard about the infinite possibilities of the lingerie Lisa Land might be wearing beneath her widow’s weeds.
But no matter how much he loved her or lusted after her or even how aroused he was, he knew with certainty that he wasn’t going to quench the ache in his balls with Lisa.
Not that day anyway but he had no doubt that over the coming weeks he would become well acquainted with the contents of her knicker draw.
But in the meantime he would have to amuse himself with one of the other black clad mourner’s and slake his thirst for a woman in black underwear.
No comments:
Post a Comment