He couldn’t face
the wake so instead of joining everyone else at the Memorial Hall Clive Miles went home from the Crematorium to an empty house.
The house he and
his wife had shared in Childean for 15 years.
When he got inside
he slipped his jacket off and went to the kitchen and poured himself a drink
and then cried.
After sitting alone
quietly for about half an hour, and wondering why he was a widower at 38 years
of age, he was disturbed by a knock at the door so he ignored it and poured
himself another drink.
There was another
more persistent knock so he ignored it again and drained his glass.
A few moments more
and there was another even more persistent knock so he got up and walked down
the hall and reluctantly opened the door.
It was Fiona
Fortson, his wife’s younger sister, five years younger,
and not an altogether unattractive woman, tall and slender with nice long legs
but her chest was as flat as a bowling green, just like Katy, it was clearly a
family trait, and she wore glasses if for no other reason than so you knew
which side the was the front was, again just like his wife.
“I was told to come and get you,” She said
“You’ve been missed”
“I don’t think I can” he replied
“Nonsense” she said sharply, “you’re
expected”
He turned around and walked back to the
kitchen and sat down.
“You must” she insisted crouching down in
front of him.
“I can’t” he retorted
“You have no choice” she insisted
“I can’t go, how many times must I say it?”
he snapped “it’s just too hard”
“It’s not about you,” she shouted in his
face “it’s about Katy”
And then inexplicably and right out of the
blue she kissed him.
“That’s not helping” he shouted and then
kissed her back.
He didn’t know what it was, the black
attire, the heated exchange or the fact that Fiona was so straight laced, but
whatever the reason the woman of whom he had never had a single sordid thought
about was making his cock throb like a Formula 1 engine.
In response to his returning her kiss she
laced her skinny arms around his neck and pulled her whole frame in close.
Clive’s hands began on her back but quickly
descended to settle on the surprising delight of her pert little buttocks and
grabbed a handful of her skirt with one hand and slipped the other one under it
and When he had both hands up Fiona’s skirt he began dragging her tights down
over her skinny arse.
Which prompted Fiona to pull her mouth away
from his and he was expecting her to call a halt to proceedings, as he should
already have done, but instead she said.
“Don’t ladder my tights”
When Clive had both hands up Fiona’s skirt
he began dragging her tights down over her skinny arse.
Which prompted Fiona to pull her mouth away
from his and he was expecting her to call a halt to proceedings, as he should
already have done, but instead she said.
“Don’t ladder my tights”
“You should be wearing stockings anyway”
Clive replied and her mouth clamped back over his and her lounge continued to
energetically explore his mouth while his hands continued to debag her of her
tights and knickers.
The cheeks of her arse were even more delightful
when naked so he fondled the exquisite globes enthuiastically but as nice as
that was he relinquished one buttocks in order to probe between her cheeks and
slip a finger into her crack.
She stopped kissing him the second his
fingertip touched her crease and resting her forehead on his and moaned softly
at him.
Lacking any finesse on his part he quickly
fingered her creaminess until she moaned loudly in his face.
Clive pushed her away and said
“Turn around”
She followed his instructions without question
as he undid his trousers and sinking to his knees behind Fiona who was now on
all fours on the kitchen floor.
Clive lifted her skirt off her buttocks as
he entered her.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said
“Shut up and do me,” Fiona begged
Her skirt kept falling over her buttocks as
he went at her so he grabbed a handful of fabric and slipped his fingers inside
her waistband and he looked like a bronco rider and Fiona through her head back
like a mare.
Until through gritted teeth she juddered
and came loudly and he exploded inside her.
Afterwards Fiona remained on all fours
debauched and dishevelled panting and sighing and after a few minutes his
panting sister in law got to her feet and redressed herself and he looked her
over and said
“Oops”
“What?” she asked
“Tights” he replied
“Shit” She said looking down at herself and
noticing the large holes in the knees of her tights.
Fiona had to go home and change her tights
so Clive went onto the Memorial Hall on his own and he had to put on a brave face
for everyone and counted the minutes until it was over.
When he got back home he planned on
finishing the bottle of Scotch he’d opened earlier and then crashing out.
So he locked the front door but when he got
back to the kitchen Fiona was standing there in her underwear, a lacy black bra and matching panties and this time she was wearing black stockings on her lovely long legs.
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