I don’t particularly remember the first time I saw my wife – though I certainly remember the first time I saw her mother. Oh, I won’t forget that day in a hurry I can tell you. I still cringe at the memory.
Trudy, my girlfriend at the time was someone I knew from way back when we were kids, someone who hung around with the same group of people that I hung around with. In a small town you carry on seeing the same people after leaving school, you go to the same bars, the same shops, the same movies. That’s just the way those rural places are.
She was a good looking girl — and still is for that matter. Curly blonde hair, cute smile, laughing blue eyes. Also lest I forget, firm boobs and an ass that deserved to be stared at. She had run 400m at County level, so had well-developed muscles right where they counted. And boy, did they count. Her pants swivelled as she walked, tight jeans showing every ripple of the contents.
I can remember eventually plucking up the courage to ask her out and her expression of quizzical astonishment at my temerity, my desire to change the nature of our relationship from acquaintance to lover. She agreed, of course. Otherwise, this whole saga would never have been, my life would have been different and likely I would have had a life of quiet suburban domesticity – dog, office job, couple of kids and an early death through boredom. Who knows?
So I started dating Trudy and gradually as we spent more time in each other’s company we moved away from that group of friends. We made our entertainment, going to places and events that interested us as a couple, you know, just growing up together. There followed some kissing sessions at the end of an evening and eventually a furtive stroke and a fumble at each other’s bodies. All very traditional and even respectable.
Then one day Trudy mentioned that her mother was out of town and her house would be vacant for us to visit. With her father being away on business as well, we could hang out in the comfort and warmth of her front room. So we did just that.
The said front room sufficed for a few minutes but she soon offered me the Grand Tour which ended up as we both knew it would, in her bedroom. As I remember, that room was brightly decorated and strewn with clothes, in the way of ladies who are still young enough to live with their parents but are now too old to be disciplined for making a mess in their private place. The bed was covered with a crumpled floral quilt and the ripped remains of several old and faded posters of half-dressed boy pop stars were taped on the walls.
As she showed me the view from her window, she also casually showed me the view down her blouse. With two buttons on her top unfastened, a white lacy bra containing a pair of beautiful creamy tits was revealed. She stood still just a little too long, leaning over just a little too far. Then I was nonchalantly pushed back onto the bed which was soft, comfortable and permeated with her scent – a heady mixture of perfume and sleepy female.
She hoisted her short skirt around her waist to unveil panties with a printed motif of tiny scarlet poppies. After tugging down my jeans and taking my rigid cock in her warm hand, she pulled those red-flowered panties to one side and took my virginity. There was precious little formality or foreplay, she knew what she wanted and made sure that she had it. I’m not sure how much of that foreplay I expected on such an auspicious occasion but there was precious little of the commodity that day.
There was a long hesitation while she made sure that the aim was correct and she exhaled loudly as she sank. Millimetre by millimetre she descended, then once she had accepted my entire girth into the entrance to her body she moved down suddenly about half an inch. She emitted a squeak and gasped, causing me to avert my gaze from her widening pussy to her face. Her eyes were closed and she was biting on her lower lip.
She continued pushing down, her tightness stretching my skin back firmly. Eventually, the invasion was completed and she started to rock, raising herself marginally on each stroke as if riding a very placid pony.
The heat of her body as she impaled herself was not included in my expectations of this event and I also didn’t anticipate the feeling of the elastic edge of her panties rubbing against me. The encounter did not take very long. I had the sensation of impending orgasm, then in a rush, it was all over.
I collapsed, a panting mess with a foolish grin on my face.
She climbed away, removed her stained and soggy knickers and went to the bathroom. On her return she had the scent of soap. She undressed completely and made me do the same, so naked we talked together. Her heavy breasts with pale pink nipples contrasted with the lurid pink lampshade on the ceiling and she sat on my thighs as I admired her flawless body. I was in awe of the fact that she was such a beautiful creature and had chosen to have sex with me.
As we chatted the time passed and the scent of soap faded in the afternoon as I basked in post-coital antalya escort bliss. Then we heard the sound of someone climbing the stairs and before we could react, a lady with a stern expression stood in the open doorway. “Trudy, the door was unlocked, I thought we’d been burgled.”
Trudy grabbed the quilt to her chest, printed yellow flowers replacing the rosy areolae. “No Mum, it’s only me, everything’s alright.”
The woman turned to me, “What, pray, are you doing here?”
I was unable to move, crippled with pins and needles and trapped by the weight of Trudy’s firm and freshly fucked body on my bloodless legs. “Nothing, I mean nothing, we were just talking.” My useless stammering did not convince anyone.
“Do you mean you’re in Trudy’s bed in the middle of the day, both of you naked together and you’re just talking?”
I nodded furiously. “Yes, we weren’t doing anything.”
Her eyebrows lowered and she paused before speaking again. “What are you, some kind of weirdo?” With that, she left and shut the door behind her.
I had met Trudy’s mother. A day that is indelibly marked in my memory.
* * *
After a stunned silence Trudy twisted away and reached for her clothes. Her skirt and top were quickly dragged on, bra and sticky panties left abandoned on the floor.
I pulled on my jeans, stuffing my underpants into a pocket. As soon as we were half-way decent Trudy ushered me downstairs.
Her mother was waiting at the open front door as I stumbled down from the bedroom, still trying to regain some feeling in my legs. She wished me farewell with a fake smile and exaggerated politeness. I could have died on the spot with the shame.
* * *
When I next saw Trudy a few days later she was a trifle subdued. It turned out that her mother had hauled her down to the doctors for advice on birth control and she had had to admit that she already had that covered.
Now having been both embarrassed and humiliated, she wasn’t in the best of moods. She had started to take precautions shortly after we had first begun to date; I have to say I knew little of such things and in those days my chosen method of birth control would have been the ‘hope’ system. Hope to get laid, hope to escape any consequences. Of course that hadn’t happened at all, like any horny dog on an offer I’d honoured the offer. (And on her and off her).
Trudy got over the experience soon enough though and we made hay together several times over the next few weeks – but choosing more isolated locations avoiding any chance of her relatives disturbing us. We took walks in the forestry that surrounded the area, following the paths and streams, seeking out secluded little glens. We found a little waterfall where we could listen to the splashing and the birdsong whilst we kissed.
In the dappled shade and long fresh grass, we would remove each other’s clothes and make love. Afterwards we sometimes took a skinny dip and then sit under cascading fresh water until chilled to the core. Even now the whiff of wild garlic and leaf-mould brings memories of those trysts.
In hindsight, those assignations were youthful fumbles that were hurried and finished too soon, but at the time they were exciting and a rite of passage to adulthood.
I met her mother again several times during that period. The first time I did so the atmosphere was a little strained, the conversation more than a little stilted but after a while, we regained some sort of normality. Even now I go into a cold sweat thinking about those early encounters, but she was pleasant enough and probably didn’t make life too unbearable. It could have been a lot worse.
She looked just like a slightly older version of her daughter. Her boobs and backside were both a little lower and softer but they could easily have been mistaken for sisters. In her usual attire of tight jeans and a T-shirt, she had a good figure with a flat stomach and long legs. She clearly took good care of herself, when you look at your girlfriend’s mother to try to imagine what your prospective wife might look like in twenty years, that’s what you want to see.
Then one day Trudy wanted me to accompany her to a family wedding. This was nerve-wracking; I’d be officially introduced to the rest of her family, including her dad. I considered crying off and pretending that I had work commitments but Trudy protested at the suggestion and pointed out that everyone else would be with a partner. If she was single it would make her look like an outcast — or worse, someone’s kid.
So that weekend I put on my best (and only) suit and went around to her house before we proceeded together to the venue. When I arrived, Trudy greeted me and said that her mum was just finishing getting changed so we waited sitting on the sofa making painful small-talk. The TV was on silent, the sunlight streamed through the window behind us and Trudy was looking outstanding in a deep green silk dress held up with lacy elastic trim above the boobs. She was bare-shouldered, looking very fashionable.
I antalya rus escort noticed her checking that the top was properly in position two or three times and eventually I spoke up. “If you don’t feel secure in that dress, find something else. But stop hitching it up, you just draw attention to yourself.” Trudy had bought it especially though, so she wanted to stay with it. Apparently, she had nothing else to wear.
Footsteps coming downstairs announced the entrance of her mother. Her hair was fixed up, her make-up was perfect and I probably wouldn’t have recognised her. Especially as she was carrying her dress over her arm and wearing just white panties and a strapless bra with stockings, suspenders and heels.
This lady wasn’t particularly shy, that’s for sure. Whilst I was unsure as to whether I could make out the shadows of her areolae from behind the lace, what I could certainly see was the undulations of her butt muscles as she moved. She was definitely her daughter’s mother.
She tossed the dress onto the arm of the sofa before turning into the kitchen, giving me a good inspection of her ass. When she returned I had an equally good eye-level look of her panties tight against her pussy.
She took half a step so that her legs were slightly apart whilst she spoke. There it was; the shadow that betrayed the shape of the body behind the panties, the barest hint of a camel-toe. It wasn’t much but it was definitely there. After a second I realised that I was staring so with an audible gulp I tried to look away. I fear that I was not too successful in that endeavour; my gaze was irresistibly drawn to her crotch.
Trudy’s mum insisted that I call her by her first name, Olivia. That was somewhat strange; I would have been happier to continue calling her ‘Ma’am’.
It was more than slightly disconcerting to be having this conversation with this lady whilst she was so dressed but she seemed quite unconcerned. She went on to explain that she needed assistance with the zipper of her dress and handed me the garment. It was of a flimsy material and I saw that the cloth had caught up in the fastener. She couldn’t fix it with her manicured fingernails but it was easy enough for me.
Once the fastener was released she pulled on the dress, which had a cream top fading into a royal blue lower section. It was tight-fitting especially around her thighs and had spaghetti-thin shoulder straps.
I helped her again by pulling up the fastener at the back trying not to stare too closely at the cleft of her buttocks where the white satin delved into that crevasse, especially with Trudy being in the same room. I was unable to manage it though without briefly brushing my hands against the soft downy skin of her back.
She patted her breasts and pushed them up into the desired position under the dress, flashed a big smile and we were on our way. Inside my suit, I was now a perspiring shambles.
Olivia had arranged to meet her husband at the ceremony, so during the evening reception, I was introduced to Trudy’s father. He seemed rather remote and had little to say to me at that time, so Trudy and I left them to it.
Amongst the group of Trudy’s friends and relatives present at the party was a girl who had recently had a baby. Trudy picked up the baby to kiss it and do the normal gushing stuff that women do when their friends have produced offspring. She turned to present the child to me, but I’ve never been one to kiss other people’s babies so I returned the child as quickly as decently possible and Trudy gave the child back to the mother.
As she stood and turned to me, I noticed that the elastic top of her dress that she had been so concerned about earlier had been snagged down by the fumbling with the baby.
Her left breast was completely exposed. A rose-pink nipple was poking out into the fresh air for all to see.
I glanced around to check if anyone else had noticed but if they had they were all acting very discreetly. As far as I could see everyone was engaged in their own conversations and had not even noticed. I turned Trudy around to face me closely and reached for the lacy elastic strip, now underneath the exposed boob. She startled when I touched her and looked down, but quickly realised what had happened.
She blushed furiously as I raised the material to cover her modesty, but after that there was no telling her to relax and she repeatedly hitched the dress right up towards her shoulders.
The rest of the day passed relatively uneventfully, except that during the speeches someone thanked Trudy for providing the entertainment — and me for spoiling it.
* * *
The four of us rode in a taxi back to Trudy’s home. On arrival, her father offered us all drinks before disappearing upstairs with an announcement that he had to be up early in the morning to go to work.
After finishing her glass of red wine Olivia asked me to loosen the zip on her dress again. Once I had done that and lowered it several inches, she unfastened her bra and unexpectedly antalya ucuz escort shrugged it from under her dress with a sigh.
Still with her dress loosely over her shoulders, she sat back on the sofa where Trudy and I had waited earlier. Her nipples poked straight through the gossamer fabric, her breasts unrestrained and as nature intended. “That’s better.” She murmured, ” That thing has been cramping me in all night. It must have been designed by a man, no woman would ever have invented anything so uncomfortable to wear.”
She dropped the offending item of underwear on the floor and held the dress fabric close to her breasts. “Did I really need it anyway? Can you see through the material? I think I’m still firm enough to go without.”
That made it very difficult for me to avoid looking closely at her tits and her nipples became even stiffer with my attention. I muttered a response, “You could have got away without it if you’d wanted.”
Her hands dropped, allowing the dress to gape so I could see more of her cleavage. Now I noticed a feature that her daughter didn’t have. Freckles. She had a dusting of them across her chest.
“Are you staying over tonight?” The words caught me by surprise. Did she mean for me to sleep with Trudy? I’d assumed that she would have defended her daughter’s honour as far as possible.
“Of course he is, mother,” Trudy answered for me. “He’s staying with me, he can go home in the morning. It’s too late now and in any case, he’s had a drink.” One of the most bizarre conversations ever was going on around me and I seemed to have little input.
Olivia spoke again, “That’s decided then, I’ll find a toothbrush for you.” With that, she stood and kicked off one of her heels. Now unevenly-footed, she staggered slightly and found herself restricted against the tightness of her dress around her knees. By the time she had recovered her balance the top of her dress had fallen away from her left breast, exposing an entire nipple. It was browner and larger than Trudy’s but she didn’t seem worried and very calmly raised the material again to cover herself.
I tried to keep the image in my head and studied it closely. The nipple was about the size of the tip of my little finger, the areola the size of the end of a coke can. I peered past it to see how far the freckles extended but the lower side down as far as her ribs was perfect unblemished skin.
As it was the same side that Trudy had inadvertently flashed to the crowd earlier I could make a direct comparison. It was slightly lower, slightly softer.
“Should I have worn a slip under this dress, do you think? I thought of it but I love the way it falls without anything underneath. I’d have gone braless if I could, but I need the support nowadays.” She pressed the dress against her flat belly. “Could you see my panties through it?” With it tight against her body I could see the outline of the underwear around her waist but very little further detail.
“OK, I’ll go upstairs, leave you to it. I think he’s ready for you, Trudy.”
Trudy looked down at me and giggled. I followed her gaze and saw that my cock was bulging firmly against my suit pants.
Olivia was quickly out of the room as Trudy pulled my head down to kiss me. The door didn’t quite shut and I saw Olivia pause at the foot of the stairs to shed her dress. Once more I caught a glimpse of her impressive posterior as she climbed the stairs.
I felt Trudy fondle me, bringing my attention back. As I attained full stiffness and raised the hem of her green dress to slide my hand into the front of her panties, she stood with her thighs wide apart to allow me to feel the moistness of her body.
She caught my hand and removed it from her patch of soft golden pubes, raising it to my face so that I could breathe in her scent. “Tell me, what do I smell like?”
I started stammering again, but she was laughing and shrugged the dress down over her beautiful body and stepped out of it. Now just in matching green silk panties, she kicked off her heels then pulled down her lace-topped stockings. At last two thumbs were inserted beneath the sides of her panties and she slowly tugged them down. Now she was naked, her close-cropped triangle of curls not quite hiding the crease between her legs.
Trudy led me upstairs, her gorgeous butt in front of my nose. Halfway up she suddenly hesitated so that my face bumped against her. She giggled again. Once in her room, she undressed me and took me to her bed. As ever, it didn’t take me all night to do what I wanted to do all night.
* * *
The next morning when I awoke I was alone in the soft bed. Trudy was gone, only her aroma remaining. That glorious bouquet of fresh musk, mixed with the faint hints of the floral perfume that she had worn.
I lay pondering the joys of a morning woody and my next course of action. However my thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Olivia entered, wearing an oversize white T-shirt and carrying a toothbrush. “Here you are, as promised. You can shower next door and then we can have a chat.” Then she was gone again. A vision barely covered, with those long muscular legs visible almost to her ass. Only the hem of her T-shirt prevented me from seeing her otherwise heavy breasts swing with an almost imperceptible time-lag behind the rest of her body.