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