Lorraine. The end of Lent, a short story by Debussi. Date added: 2012-08-07. Times viewed: 4285.
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- Intro: Student Lorraine comes to stay. exhib. ust.
Holy smoke. At least five foot nine I should think. How tall girls get these days. It was all there. The flared jeans, the flowing man’s shirt, those patchwork bags they are all so fond of. The tan leather boots with the wooden heels. All beads, bracelets and tassels. They love to think they invented the fashion, but I know it well from the first time around. A new bohemian, styled in expensive stores, and a hundred miles off course.
‘I’m sending her down to stay with you at the end of Lent term. She needs some fresh air. Get her doing some exercise. Make sure she gets some proper sleep too. How is your wife?’
Does she still do her steak and potatoes?’
‘Well, tell her to cook it. Often. Lorraine’s been living on crisps and those awful nugget things. She’s been staying out much too late too. All those spiky haired types sniffing round her all the time. Need a damn good shave, most of them. She’ll be on the zero eight hundred on Tuesday. Get her sorted out and send her back on Monday morning’
‘Lorraine is it?’ I said, reaching out to carry her suitcase.
‘Yeah. That’s me’
‘I’m MacDonnell. You can call me Mac if you like, everyone else does. Your father does.’
‘Whatever’ she replied, clearly not interested what her father called me.
I didn’t offer my hand, because the young don’t bother with that anymore, but instead gave her a smile that she met with a poker face. A pleasant poker face, framed by a mop of messy red hair, but a poker face just the same. Looking into it further, I could see why her father was so concerned. Her blue eyes were bleary and sore, while her skin held a miserable, prison hue.
‘Come on then Lorraine, this way.’
The drizzle coming in from the sea was heavier now, and the shelter of my old Ford estate was comforting. Or it was to me at least. Lorraine’s nose twitched as she smelled the damp carpets, and she sighed heavily as she arranged her limbs into the seat. This was a girl clearly used to a much better standard of travel.
‘I don’t know whether Sandra will be happy though, Sir. She was thinking of having a few days up north with her family’
‘And I was thinking of five hundred for the week. I’ll have Lorraine bring it with her.’
‘Oh. In that case, I’m sure Sandra could stay and do a bit of cooking.’
‘Needless to say I expect some results.’
There wasn’t a goodbye, as usual. Lorraine’s father had always spoken to me like that. He couldn’t help it, even though our time serving together was long gone. It was in his breeding to lead, just as it was in mine to be led.
We soon reached our slightly crumbling house, well tucked away, but still in sight of the sea on a good day.
‘Is this it?’ she asked as the handbrake went on, her head turning toward me for the first time since we left the station.
‘Yes. This is it.’
‘So…what happens at night? Where do you go?’
‘We can go to the pub in the village, a mile that way’ I replied, pointing between the hedgerows. ‘Or into town of course. If you want to eat.’
It was clearly not the answer she had wished for. She wandered towards the faded front door, taking in the plants and shrubs.
‘I’ll bring your case in for you. Don’t worry’
I followed her into the kitchen, her head moving around slowly, scanning every pot and pan. Sandra was at the sink, and greeted our guest with a huge smile, wet hands, and a very one sided hug. The sight bordered on the comic, my wife’s petite five feet three dwarfed by Lorraine’s towering frame.
‘Hello pet. You must be Lorraine .How are you?’
‘Would you like some tea before you unpack? Or a piece of cake before lunch perhaps? Made some specially’
‘No. I’m tired. Where’s my room?’
‘Oh right. It’s this way. I’ll show you’ said Sandra, picking up Lorraine’s case and leading her up the stairs.
I was left with just cake for company, until I heard Sandra padding back downstairs again.
Oooh…she’s a bit of a madam isn’t she?’ she whispered.
‘Oh you noticed that too. I reckon we’re in for a long week.’
‘She’s getting her head down for an hour. I’ve shown her the bathroom and everything.’
‘I just don’t know what I’m expected to do with her, Sandra’ I said.
‘I thought it was pretty clear. He wants you to put her straight and that. Like you used to do. Before.’
‘But that was ages ago. And those men knew they were going to be shouted at. That was all part of it. She’s just a young girl.’
‘Well, if he’d wanted her to go to one of those posh spa places, he would’ve sent her to one wouldn’t he? He wants her kept out of pubs for a bit and in bed by ten. You can manage that man. Surely?’
‘Hmm.. I suppose so. I’ll try’
‘Well you’d better. We really need that five hundred. Why not take her out somewhere tomorrow, and see what she‘s like? She might be really up for it, you never know.’
Sandra always had that habit of talking common sense, whether I wanted to hear it or not. It was one of the reasons I loved her. That, her lovely smiling face, and that slender figure, hardly changed for twenty years. Her ink black hair had some occasional silver strands now, but they never managed to take anything away from her. She deserved far better than I had ever been able to provide, and five hundred pounds was a tiny repayment of my debt.
Lorraine eventually appeared sometime after three, rubbing her eyes and yawning loudly.
‘Is there any tea?’
‘Of course’ said Sandra. I’ll make some. Would you like a biscuit to go with it?’
‘Yeah, two.’ she replied, sitting herself at the kitchen table.
‘I thought we could go for a walk tomorrow Lorraine’ I said, trying to summon my most authoritative tone.
She screwed up her face, unimpressed
‘Do we have to? Can’t we just go out for a drink or something?’
‘It’s just that your father has asked me to…well to.. to try and..’
‘Your dad is worried about you pet’ interrupted Sandra, rescuing me.
‘Well, my father knows what he can do’ she said, grabbing the mug from Sandra’s hand. ‘I always have to do what he says. I’m not stopping here. It’s boring. I’ll get the train back tomorrow’
She stomped up the stairs again, without looking back.
At least a minute passed, silently.
‘I’ll have a word in a bit’ said Sandra, placing her hand on my shoulder.
The sound of the late night news ending woke me from my pre bedtime nap, the house otherwise quiet and dark. I heard Sandra attempting to slip quietly back down the stairs, and turned in my chair.
‘I’ve had a long talk with her Mac. She’ll be staying’
‘How on earth did you manage that?’ I asked, raising myself up.
‘Oh I don’t know. I just reminded her that her dad won’t be around for ever, and that, you know, she should occasionally do things for him. Just to make him happy’
‘I see. And that worked did it?’
‘Seemed to. I just told her how much I missed my own dad, you know. How you can never get the time back and that’
‘Sandra Jane McDonnell. Your dad spends most of his time down at the social. That’s if he’s not at the match, or in the bookies. He’s fitter than the pair of us put together.’
‘You know Mac, that’s your trouble. You’re obsessed with minor details’
The day began late, as could have probably been expected. My plan for an early start was quickly foiled by Lorraine’s failure to raise herself before nine. I heard the shower start shortly afterwards, and so, after looking at my wife to check my opinion, I decided to cut her some slack. Lorraine eventually appeared at the breakfast table just before ten, in a university sweatshirt, jeans and trainers, and looking somewhat disgusted at my offer of hot, sweet porridge.
‘You’ll need it. I thought we could go across the beach and back this morning.’
‘I’ll just have some tea and a biscuit.’
There seemed little point in arguing. She had at least agreed to come for a walk, and that was a start.
Sandra let her borrow one of her waterproofs, far too small for her of course, and I led her out down the lane. We walked on for perhaps half a mile, before turning left and joining the bridleway that led towards the beach. She followed, refusing to share the pace, and just far enough behind to avoid conversation. The rutted track soon offered a gap in the hedge that Sandra and I had discovered a few weeks after moving in. A few brambles moved, a few minor thorn scratches, and we were no more than a couple of hundred yards away from the beach road itself. Lorraine was still stony faced on hearing the story, but she was at least still there behind me.
The road was easily crossed, and we were soon offered a dismal view across the bay. The lines of flat bottomed clouds were barely high enough to pass over the rooftops, and seemed to be daring us to cross the sands in time.
‘Come on Lorraine. It’s about twenty minutes to get to that café over there. A quick drink and then back again. What do you think?’
‘Be all right I suppose’
Her lack of enthusiasm made me mutter under my breath. ‘Oh tea sounds lovely. What a beautiful place this is. Thanks for bringing me here’ until I couldn’t be bothered to even do that anymore. The wind soon began to whip up the sharp sand, making me look forward to the sanctuary of the tired little café.
‘Are we going to do this everyday? It’s miles.’ Her whining voice piped up from what sounded like a thousand yards behind me.
‘We could keep coming here, or go further along the coast. We could even go for a jog sometime, if you fancied it.’
I took the silence to mean she wasn’t thrilled with any of these ideas, and so I trudged on like Captain Scott, until the café loomed into view.
Lorraine wrapped her hands around her teacup as if she was worshipping it, and for the first time I saw what her father wished to see. The breeze sweeping across the bay had helped to blow away some of her pallor, and replaced it with two rosy apples on her chubby cheeks. Her eyes seemed much bigger too, and watery from the wind.
‘I’ve no kit’ she began, without turning her face from the window.
‘Sorry?’ I answered, surprised at the sudden willingness to share.
‘Kit. If we go running and stuff. I’ve no kit.’
‘None at all?’
‘Just these trainers. Nobody told me I’d need anything else’
‘I thought your father told you I’d be taking you out for some fresh air this week?’
‘No. He never said anything like that’
I was, not for the first time, both encouraged and discouraged. Her not bringing any kit was disappointing, but it also seemed that a run was not out of the question. A possibility even. I cut her a few more inches of slack.
‘Oh. Right. Better get you sorted out then’ was the best I could offer before moving towards the door.
The town’s only sports shop was run by Billy Murphy, a lower league footballer who had settled there after he retired twenty years ago. His shop seemed to have retired at the same time, with faded Olympic posters, and several football shirts that were surely from the season before last. I thought it unlikely that his range of athletic kit for tall young girls would be extensive, and I was not wrong. Lorraine gathered up what she deemed acceptable though, and vanished into the tiny cubicle to try it all on. The gap between the tatty curtain and the floor was perhaps eighteen inches, and allowed me to see her jeans drop around her ankles, replaced by a pair of running shorts, until they too fell a minute later. She eventually presented herself at the cash register, holding several items over her arms.
‘That’s £76.50 altogether, please Miss’ said Billy, amazed at a sale of any kind on a bleak Wednesday.
Lorraine looked at me squarely for the first time in the day and nodded her head repeatedly towards Billy’s outstretched hand.
‘Can’t you just pay out of the money your father gave you? We can sort it all out later’ I answered, without
being asked the question.
‘Hmm...about that…’ she replied, her voice trailing away into silence.
I settled the debt with my well worn card and ushered Lorraine out onto the street, where the first spots of rain were starting to fall. As we wandered past the lines of empty amusement arcades, I waited to hear her explanation with interest. It was quite a time coming, but she eventually began once the promenade had ended and the beach had begun.
‘I know I should have told you, but its just that university life can be so expensive sometimes. You know. To go out and that’
‘So your father did give you our money, like he said he would?’
‘Yeah. Two weeks ago. Paid it on that transfer thing.’
‘And then you spent it?’
‘Yeah. Kind of. Most of it. Yeah.’ Her eyes were watering, and this time it had nothing to do with the wind. I let her stew with a silence of my own. All the way home.
Lorraine disappeared upstairs as soon as we entered the house, and I wished that I could have done the same. Instead, I was left to explain the situation to Sandra in the kitchen, after first making sure that there was nothing heavy or sharp within her reach.
‘Well I never! That little…so not only are we missing the five hundred, we’ve just spent nearly another hundred on her. Plus all that’s in here’ she continued, pointing at the freezer.
‘Yep. That’s about it’ I replied, preparing to dodge any flying utensils.
‘Well, I’m ringing her Dad this afternoon, but I’m going to have a word first.’
Sandra made towards the stairs, and I knew better than trying to stop her.
‘Go steady won’t you?’ I said, in a rather vain hope.
I ate my cake and listened for the inevitable row. I was getting used to this, waiting around like an expectant father while events whirled around me. The television bravely tried to offer a distraction, but nevertheless failed. After what seemed like an hour, Sandra appeared, her fringe matted to her forehead.
‘I’ve had a talk with her. She was really worried that I’d tell her father, so I’ve told her that I won’t ring him for now. I’ve given her my conditions, and told her from now on I don’t want to hear any moaning, or see any sulks. Oh, and she’s going to pay us back once she gets back to university.’
‘Well done Sandra. We can use that money to pay for your Dad’s headstone’
‘Very funny. Lets see what she’s like from now on, and see how it goes. Take her for a walk into the village this afternoon. We need some more milk anyway.’
Lorraine ate her fish and vegetables in silence, but it seemed the walk had improved her appetite, as she left not a morsel. Sandra seemed disinterested in speaking to her at all, so it was left to me to ease the tension by inviting Lorraine to come into the village. She followed me there and back like a chastised spaniel, and we completed our errand without a single word being said.
We sat, and nodded our appreciation of Sandra’s tea. The moment Lorraine had finished draining hers, Sandra cleared her cup away.
‘Bath for you then Lorraine.’ she began ‘The water’s hot. I’ll bring you some of my oil to put in. You can have a rest in your room afterwards. Dinner is at half past six.’
Lorraine accepted these rather stern instructions without a murmur, and trudged up the stairs wearily. I raised my eyebrows at Sandra, impressed with her assertiveness, and she smiled back, pleased with it too.
The afternoon dragged on, and with Lorraine soundly asleep upstairs, Sandra and I spent it selfishly.
‘She’s pretty though, don’t you think? said Sandra, as we settled down.
I was far too experienced in the perils of married life to fall for that old chestnut.
‘Er…Yes. I suppose so. If you like that type of course’
‘I think she is’ said Sandra, getting into her stride. ‘I wasn’t sure when I first saw her, but I see it a bit more now. She’s a big, tall girl, but what a lovely body’
‘And how would you know?’ I asked. .
‘Earlier on. Upstairs. I got a right eyeful’
‘I went to give her some of my oil before she got undressed, but she’d beat me to it’
‘Must of been a bit awkward’ I prodded, hoping to hear more.
‘I thought she’d put a towel round her at least, but no. She just stood there without a stitch on.’
‘Not a shy one then?’
‘I didn’t know where to look’ said Sandra, throwing me a mischievous smile.
‘And I’ll tell you before you ask MacDonnell. Yes, it all matches. That’s all I’m saying’
Sandra’s little story kept my mind fully entertained for the rest of the evening, and then on into the night, especially when lying in bed at just past eleven. Sandra entered the bedroom in her familiar nightgown, before pulling it over her head as I watched. Her petite body still never failed to excite me, with her small, domed breasts, and neat triangular thatch of black pubic hair. At nearly forty, she was in truth perhaps slightly pear shaped now, but it didn’t matter a jot to me. She always got my full attention.
‘Why don’t you come over here?’ I asked, lowering the bedclothes to expose my desire for her.
‘Oh no’ she said, staring at my predicament. ‘Don’t you get any ideas. Not while she’s only just down the hallway.’
I knew what she meant. Sandra always gave a long, loud series of breathless gasps when reaching for her climax, and once she’d recovered from one of her ‘big ones’ she would often joke about being glad we lived so remotely. She slipped into bed beside me, turned her back and drifted off to sleep, with my lust resting firmly between the cheeks of her bottom.
Breakfast was pleasant, with me at one end of the table and the two girls at the other. Lorraine once again devoured her porridge, while Sandra nibbled at her toast, watching our guest and rolling her eyes at me in amusement
‘I thought we could have a run today Lorraine. Do you fancy it?
‘Really?’ she replied her eyebrows rising. ‘This morning? I don’t know if I could manage it to be honest. I’m sore after all that walking yesterday.’
‘Why not give her today off Mac? She worked hard yesterday’ said Sandra. ‘We could drive up the coast a bit. Find somewhere for a bit of lunch.’
‘That sounds cool’ said Lorraine, stealing a slice of toast.
We were soon making our way along the coast road, Sandra tucked away in the back seat and Lorraine stretched out as best she could beside me. She was wearing one of her far too small polo shirts, and had put some baggy navy shorts on, presenting her bare legs to me every time I looked to the left. We stopped a few times to take in the views, until we parked beside a deserted, and rather rocky beach.
‘This bit looks good’ said Sandra. ‘Let’s stretch our legs for a bit’
The two girls were soon well ahead of me, picking their way cautiously across the coastline. Sandra was trying to look up into Lorraine’s eyes as they talked, and taking three steps to every one of Lorraine’s just to keep up. The pair made their way between the huge rocks that lay on the fringe of the tide, occasionally disappearing from view. I eventually caught up as they stopped under the shadow of the headland.
‘You’re going to have to turn away for a minute Mac!’ giggled Sandra.
‘Just turn round and shout me if anyone comes’
‘Why? What for?’
‘Lorraine wants to have a little paddle, that’s all.’
‘You are joking. It’s not that warm.’
‘Oh give over. You’re only young once. Give me that bag. And turn round!’
I did as I was told of course, because I know better than to argue with her, although why I had to avoid seeing a girl take a paddle was beyond me. Sandra’s choice of words played loudly inside my head though. ‘You’re only young once’ was a particular sticking point, until my brain finally caught up with everyone else’s.
The temptation was too great, obviously, and as soon as I heard Sandra offer some words of encouragement, I managed to twist my neck enough to view events, praying I wasn’t being too obvious.
‘Stop being such a girl!’ laughed Sandra
‘That’s easy for you to say, stood there!’
My eyes fought against the light, and were rewarded with the sight of Lorraine, almost knee deep in the water, and picking her way carefully out to sea. She had stripped completely naked, her smooth skin in stark contrast to the ragged rocks that screened her perfectly from prying eyes. Well, almost perfectly.
I was drawn to her well rounded bottom first, watching it flow sharply outwards from her hips, and refusing to sag by a single inch. By no means small, it had been expertly designed to drive those long, athletic legs forward. Strangely, my eyes took to Lorraine’s bright red hair next, tied back and exposing her neck to the weak spring sunshine. Her back tapered from her broad shoulders down to her waist, a gentle arrow directing my eyes towards her bottom again. Those thighs, taut and yet yielding, required a week of study, such was their length. The stirred sand and saltwater had conspired to obscure her calves and feet though, denying me the full, glorious extent of her.
‘Oooh..it’s flipping freezing!’ she cried again, raising herself on tiptoe when every swell approached. She had her arms extended fully for balance, but then brought them in attempting to prevent the chill breeze striking her further.
‘Come on back then!’ hissed Sandra. ‘Or you’ll catch your death!’
I watched Lorraine stand perfectly still, and then begin to make a slow, stuttering turn back towards shore, trying to tread lightly on the sharp gravel beneath her feet. I noticed Sandra grab a towel, ready to reclaim our mermaid, and knew it was my cue to look way again, before they caught and shamed me. Even though I was denied the gift of sight, I was at least able to hear them whispering away like schoolgirls.
‘There you go. Use this’ said Sandra
‘Ooh…s..s.sooo cold’ replied Lorraine, her teeth chattering.
‘I told you. You’re crazy!’
‘Oh… I so w.w.wish I hadn’t done that!’
‘ There. You’re about dry. Get your pants on. Quick!’
The flurry of activity soon burned itself out though, and their voices became calmer and less frequent as Lorraine regained both her clothes and some body temperature.
‘It’s ok now Mac. She’s decent’
And so she was, sadly. She seemed even more alive than before though, her complexion positively glowing, and her eyes a diamond blue.
‘Did you enjoy that Lorraine?’ I asked, inanely.
‘Yeah’ she gasped, striding out across the sand. ‘Did you?’
We ate at a small fish restaurant on the way home, Lorraine shaking her head at Sandra and I as we argued about whether we had ever been there before. We watched Lorraine shovel down her meal, followed by a huge ice-cream and a pot of her beloved tea.
As we left, she spotted the loneliest of amusement arcades across the road. It was open, but was clearly on the verge of permanent closure.
‘Air hockey!’ she shrieked, as we walked across the car park. ‘I’ve not played that in ages! Come on!’
We trooped on behind her, until we too were surrounded by a thousand flashing lights, and deafened by a hundred machines, all of them playing different tunes.
Lorraine wiped the floor with Sandra, smashing the little orange disc into her goal time after time, and raising her arms as high as the roof every time she did so. Appalled at my wife’s display, I took over to save the MacDonnell family honour. Lorraine soon thrashed me too of course, and I wasn’t sure I actually saw any of the goals go in. Sandra’s laughter didn’t make me feel any more masculine either.
Lorraine was soon ready to move on, mouthing ‘Loo-ser!’ at me as she left the table. She worked her way through the arcade, betting her change on a white horse with a yellow jockey, ‘Because I love yellow’ and winning a pound on a one armed bandit without understanding how. She watched, spellbound, as her coins jigged their way down the penny falls, and she traced their path with her finger, ordering them to fall precisely where she wished. Her disappointment when they balanced on top of each other was outdone only by her joy at receiving a meagre reward. Only when the last of her pennies came to rest, refusing to push any more of its colleagues to their doom, did she finally venture outside again.
‘Ooh! Donuts! Three please.’
The poor man was ambushed, and never stood a chance. Sandra and I laughed out loud as we watched him throwing his hands in the air, shaking his head and puffing out his cheeks, bullied into serving her fresh ones. Eventually, after scanning the park for any attractions she may have missed, Lorraine led us back to the car, her lips covered in sugar and her eyes bright with delight.
The night was a restless one, my mind filled with visions of Lorraine, naked and shivering in the water, but I must have eventually slipped away, as I woke with my hand resting between Sandra’s legs, with no memory of placing it there.
Began with a shock. I came downstairs as usual, just after seven, to find Lorraine making toast and attempting to stir porridge at the same time.
‘You sit down. I can do it’ she ordered, pointing out my usual seat.
She was wearing just a baggy white t shirt, which seemed to be about eight feet long, and finished somewhere around the middle of her thighs. I had no idea whether she was wearing any panties underneath it, but it was easy to see that she was once again braless.
‘I’d like to have that run today’ she said, sliding a bowl of rather dubious porridge across to me. ‘Can you show me that quick way to the beach again?’
‘Of course I can’
‘I’m probably going to be a bit rubbish, but I’m going to give it a go’
‘Good for you. Trying is the most important thing’
She was already outside when I came downstairs, doing some rather clumsy warm up exercises on the driveway. I was delighted to see that she had Murphy’s finest running shorts on too, exposing her endless legs perfectly. At least one size too small, they pinched into her bottom, exposing half an inch of firm cheek on each side. It would have been indiscreet to mention it, so I did the courteous thing and said nothing. She had combined the shorts with a pale blue running top, and I could see the thick, sturdy lines of a sports bra underneath it.
‘Are you ready then?’ she said, trotting off down the lane before I could answer.
I caught up eventually, and we jogged along together merrily, her ginger ponytail bouncing in time with her breasts as we ran along the tractor tracks that bordered the fields. She found the short cut with no help from me, and was through it in an instant, presenting her bottom to me like a gift. A few minutes later we were on the wet sands, the sun breaking through to welcome us. I could hear her panting heavily alongside me, trying to pick her knees up, until she finally called a halt, a few hundred yards from the café.
‘That’s it for me.. I think’ she wheezed, placing her hands behind her head. ‘I’m shattered’
‘You’ve done the best part of three miles I reckon’ I said, adding a mile on for luck.
‘I never thought I could manage that far. Feels amazing’
I looked across and breathed her in. She was just a picture of health, the copper red of her hair framed wonderfully by the pale washes of the beach. Her freckles were out too, as if to welcome the start of summer, while her skin was simply luminous.
‘Can we start walking back?’ she asked, once she had enough breath to do so.
‘Yep. Sure. Well done. Good effort that.’
I could have stayed looking at that face and figure for the rest of the day, but she had already turned and headed for home.
We crossed the fields again, Lorraine still gathering her breath, until we reached the sanctuary of the house, where Sandra issued her usual orders. Lorraine disappeared without questioning them, and by the time she had finished upstairs the sun had begun to shine in earnest, and we all sat down to lunch on the tiny back terrace.
‘I want you to rest for a couple of hours you once you’ve finished that Lorraine’ said Sandra. ‘You can have a sleep out here if you like. It’s warm enough’
‘Yeah. Ok. Sounds good.’
‘We’ve got a sun bed somewhere haven’t we Mac?’
I was soon in the garage, hauling one out from where we left it last September, and set it up on the lawn before returning to my newspaper.
Lorraine reappeared a few minutes later, in a top that did not even try to cover the straps of the white bra she was wearing underneath. The baggy beach shorts were back on again, and she was barefoot, her toenails varnished to look like they were not.
She breezed past me without a glance, and after several rearrangements of both the sun bed and her long limbs, she settled down with her back to us, with only her ponytail visible above the headrest.
‘Look at her Mac. It’s like she’s a different girl’ said Sandra, as we watched the ponytail become motionless. ‘Her dad will be so pleased.’
‘Yes he will. It’s quite a transformation’ I replied
‘She told me that he threatened her with all sorts if she didn’t come to stay with us. To take her away from university and make her live with him in Wales. He said he’d make sure she didn’t see any of her friends either. Frightened to death she was, poor thing. He sounds really mean.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about it Sandra. He must have been at the end of his tether with her. Parents must say things like that to their children all the time’
Silence returned, and we both watched Lorraine as she suddenly stirred, swatting away a fly. She raised herself from the sun bed, irritated, and stood up to face us from across the lawn
‘Do you mind if I…you know…go without?’ she began, miming that most delicious of unclipping motions. ‘Would it be all right? I don’t want you to feel awkward or anything. It’s just that I hate strap marks. They look so awful.’
I was speechless of course, and dared not answer for fear of immediate divorce.
‘You go right ahead pet’ said Sandra, waving her hand dismissively. ‘Don’t you worry about it’
I don’t think I had ever loved her more.
Lorraine didn’t even bother to walk back to her little sun trap, or even turn away. Instead, she lifted her top over her head, pulling it hard as it became entangled in her hair. I tried to bury myself in the small print again, fearful of what would happen next, while all about me remained perfectly calm. Lorraine reached behind her back, released the clasp, and shook off her bra, catching it as it tumbled down her arms. She held it tightly and stooped to pick up her top, allowing my eyes to dwell on her for a few precious seconds more. Her breasts swung free, and were more magnificent that I had ever imagined. They were far larger than my wife’s, as I knew they would be, but the weight and firmness of them was a revelation. Their symmetry meant both of her large nipples pointed gently skywards, their pale pink colour matching that of her lips perfectly.
‘Are you sure it’s all right?’ she asked again, looking left and right rapidly and pointlessly.
‘Of course its all right. There’s no one for miles’ said Sandra, holding her arms open.
Lorraine relaxed, and was gone again in an instant, treading across the garden and disappearing behind the sun bed once more. Once she had settled down, I could only make out that ponytail of Titian hair, the curve of her neck, and the merest part of one freckled shoulder. Even this distant view was enough to keep me rooted to my chair for another hour though, until the clouds gathered and forced me indoors.
Sandra sent Lorraine to bed at around half past ten, and we followed half an hour later. Sandra teased me with her once more, cupping her breasts and bending over whilst applying her lotion. She slid into bed oiled, perfumed, and naked.
‘Are you all right Mac? she asked, placing her hand on my growing erection.
‘I’m fine. Just struggling a bit. Look. I don’t know if I can wait any longer. ’
‘Hmm… it does look tempting’ she said, lifting the bedclothes. We can’t though Mac. She’ll hear me’
‘Oh Sandra. She’s probably heard people doing it hundreds of times at University. She’ll be asleep by now anyway. Come on’
‘Sorry pet. I wouldn’t be able to face her tomorrow’ she replied, plumping her pillow.
My face must have been a picture of disappointment, as it caused her to stop plumping and look into my eyes.
‘Well, I suppose I could give it a little kiss. Would you like that?’
The question was not worthy of an answer, and I hurriedly lowered the blanket and guided Sandra’s face downwards. She shuffled around to gain a better position, before hovering her lips ready over the head, agonisingly short of nirvana.
‘Just keep quiet at the end won’t you?’ she whispered.
‘Yes. Yes.. Please. Just do it’
In one breathless moment she took me inside, her lips working their way up and down in a familiar rhythm. Her hands soon joined in too, still soft and moist with lotion, pulling gently back on the shaft and allowing her to lick the swollen crown on every stroke. After only a couple of minutes, I felt those first, marvellous stirrings and made myself ready to relieve my frustration deep into Sandra’s welcoming mouth.
She soon began to quicken her pace, sensing I was almost there, but then stopped suddenly and absolutely dead. She shot back to a bolt upright position beside me before I had any opportunity to stop her.
‘Did you hear that?’ she whispered
‘Hear what for God‘s sake?’
‘I felt sure it was her door opening’
‘She’d only going to the loo’ I hissed. ‘Carry on. I only need one more minute’
‘I can’t love. I’m sorry. It’s knowing she’s only across there’ replied Sandra, straightening her hair. ‘Can’t you wait until she’s gone? It’s only one more night’
The moment had passed though, and we were soon lying back to back. Sandra was asleep in an instant, while I prepared for a long and restless night.
I woke alone, and to the aroma of bacon and toast. The alarm clock read nearly ten, and I realised that I must have eventually drifted off in the early hours. The radio was playing downstairs, and Sandra was singing along with it, tunelessly.
‘What are we doing this morning?’ asked Lorraine, dabbing away breadcrumbs.
‘Er…’ I stuttered, suddenly realising that I had not prepared anything. ‘I thought we could go… for a bike ride. It’s a lot brighter today’
‘All right’ she replied. ‘I quite like cycling’
I’d forgotten, in my haste to think quickly, that cycling was the only sensible mode of transport for students at university, and therefore something she might actually enjoy. It was perhaps the luck of hitting a bull’s-eye while blindfolded, but I will always claim the idea as genius. I smiled encouragement at her from across the breakfast table.
Lorraine smiled back, for the first time since she arrived, and once again gave me a glimpse of the true person hidden somewhere inside. That face, although only just awake, was a thousand miles from the one I saw when I greeted her at the station. She ate her breakfast heartily, scraping the spoon across the bottom of her bowl before tripping back up the stairs again.
‘Half an hour, yeah? she asked, peeking through the banister.
‘Half an hour’
I scuttled outside, into the garage and tried to arrange two suitable bicycles for us, as Sandra’s shopper was going to be far too small for Lorraine’s legs. It was best that Lorraine took my own beloved steel racer, while I would somehow manage on that vintage, rust ridden heap that I had bought with the intention of restoring, but had never looked at since.
Lorraine appeared at the garage door just as I finished making some adjustments to it that I hoped would keep me alive. She had her beach shorts on, along with one of Murphy’s finest polo shirts. She had tied her hair back into a short ponytail with an elastic band, exposing her neck and ears splendidly.
‘Is this one mine then?’ she asked, wheeling my pride and joy out onto the roadside.
Before I could answer, she had thrown her leg over the bottle green frame and zipped away between the hedgerows. I caught up eventually, but only because she had waited at the end of the lane to ask for my directions. We set off again, with Lorraine cruising sweetly along at quite a pace, and changing gear with a casual, practised hand. I however, was struggling to keep up on the heap of scrap, having discovered that its gears worked on their own terms and that the chain had probably not seen oil since before the war. More worrying still were the deep, sinister creaks that warned of some impending disaster.
‘Come on!’ I heard her cry into the wind. ‘Keep up!’
We turned and turned again, climbing constantly, with Lorraine looking behind her at me as we approached each road junction.
‘Which way now slowcoach?’ she shouted back, mocking my efforts.
I indicated to her, either left or right, each time more wearily than the last, and then watched helplessly as she sped away into the distance.
I was delighted to finally gain sight of the sea, and even more pleased when I saw Lorraine stop and lay her bike down gently on the grass. She sat herself down on the bench and turned to watch me pedal those final, painful yards up to her.
‘Its nice here. I like it.’ she said, watching me dismount.
‘Yes…it’s… beautiful…isn’t it?’ I spluttered.
‘Can we have a little rest before we go back? The sea looks lovely from up here’
‘Of course. You take all the rest you need’ I replied, gasping for the water I had neglected to bring.
She was quite right of course. The sea did indeed look lovely, its white tipped waves breaking onto the shallow beaches below, interrupted only by the town itself in the far distance. Lorraine looked even lovelier though, the sheen of her effort showing on her forehead and neck, and her face beginning to display a healthy, windswept tan.
After a couple of minutes of dozing and wheezing, the results of her exertions must have begun to become uncomfortable, and she unbuttoned the three buttons of her top and sat back against the wooden slats. I could see that her breasts were pushing hard against the ill fitting shirt, making the lacy pattern of her bra easily visible. I stole several looks before the sunshine faded, replaced by a chilly breeze.
‘I’ll take this bike on the way back’ she said, rising suddenly and picking up the old wreck.
‘No Lorraine, there’s no need. I’ll ride it back’
‘Oh let me have it. Please. I like the colour.’
Seeing as the original paintwork was so faded it could not even be seen, and that the predominant colour now was the brown of corrosion, her reasoning was as full of holes as the frame itself. It was a lovely gesture though, and I let her make it.
The ride back towards home was a more even affair, but even then, when Lorraine decided to use both her youth and her powerful thighs fully, I was left struggling to keep pace. It was a pleasure to be able to ride behind her more closely though, the strong cheeks of her bottom rising and falling delightfully as she pedalled.
‘Did you enjoy that then, you two? asked Sandra as we appeared at the back door.
‘Yeah. It was really nice up there’ replied Lorraine, wiping her brow.
‘Well your lunches will be about an hour, I’ve done you both some pasta. You can sit out here if you like Mac and I’ll bring you a cuppa’ said Sandra, opening the back door to let the steam out. ‘Upstairs for you Lorraine. Off you go.’
Lorraine complied, brushing past me as she entered the house. I sat on the garden chair, awaiting my tea, as my heart slowly began to return to its usual rate. The open bathroom window was no more than five yards above my head, and knowing that Lorraine was in there showering made my heart rate rise straight back up again.
‘I thought we could go out later, seeing as its her last night’ said Sandra. ‘Just to the pub or something. She’s not had a drop all week, and a couple of halves won’t hurt surely?
‘Yeah. We could have a walk down there this evening. Yeah. Good idea.’
‘Yay!’ exclaimed Lorraine when we told her the plan, clearing her pasta with relish, and wiping the plate clean with her bread.
She fell asleep on the sofa all afternoon, exposing some cleavage and thigh to my gaze as I watched the TV, until Sandra woke her to tell her the time. Lorraine shot upstairs to get ready, like a prisoner offered parole.
We walked down the lane, on the right hand side to face the traffic of course, as there was no pavement. There was no traffic either, come to that.
‘What a lovely night’ said Sandra, spinning around in the road, only the click of her heels breaking the silence.
I looked across at my beautiful wife in her favourite black dress, and thought how lucky I was to have her. It was indeed a lovely night.
‘Bit hot and sticky though’ said Lorraine, bringing up the rear.
The pub was as all country pubs are, the same faces in the same seats, arguing the same arguments. The sight of our willowy lodger caused some to stare though, as if they had never seen youth or beauty before. A couple of elderly locals amused themselves as Lorraine stood beside them at the bar, pointing and whispering.
‘Is it cold up there love?’ asked one eventually, to riotous laughter from his friends
‘It is actually. I bet you could warm me up though couldn’t you?’ she retorted, tweaking his nose.
Cheers and laughter echoed throughout the lounge as she became the main attraction for the evening. Sandra and I watched her hold court nearly all night, teaching one old chap how to play the fruit machine, defeating several others at darts, and then introducing them all to the delights of a truly revolting looking bright blue drink.
Eventually though, the landlord called time and we were cast outside, where cries of ‘Bye Lorraine!’ and ‘See you carrot top!’ were heard from several old, bald figures as they drifted off into the darkness.
We started home ourselves, Lorraine and Sandra arm in arm, until with perhaps half a mile to go, it began.
Not just rain. Not. Just. Rain. There was a roar, like some huge wave breaking above our heads. The girls squealed, and ran as best they could, but there was never going to be a hiding place from such a deluge. The hedges proved hopeless at providing cover and were soon abandoned in search of somewhere better. Great sheets of solid water swept over us every few seconds, and in the respite between them, huge droplets raked the ground like machine gun bullets. The noise was almost deafening, and puddles appeared before our eyes, filling potholes in an instant.
I gave up the fight after fifty yards, saturated, and the girls did the same after fifty more, walking barefoot and laughing hysterically. The old show tune soon started up from them both, as I knew it would.
‘Just singing, and dancing….in the rain!’
The good humour, and the wine, had worn off by the time we reached the house. Our sodden clothes had now chilled us to the bone, clinging painfully to our skin. We tumbled inside, straightening from the hunched positions we’d been in for the last quarter of an hour.
‘Put the kettle on Mac. We’re going to get dried off’ said Sandra, following Lorraine up the stairs.
I stood in front of the fire and cobbled together just enough oddments from the wash basket, trying to listen to the muffled conversation upstairs.
‘Can you bring mine up for me pet?’ came a yell from the landing.
I opened the bathroom door to be greeted by Sandra, wrapped in a towel, and swishing her hand in the bathwater, mixing in her oil, and turning the water a fresh, frothy green.
‘Ooh thank you. Lovely’ she said, reaching for her mug.
I stood by the window and prepared for the pleasure of watching my wife take her bath, only to be interrupted by Lorraine entering the room. She was wrapped in a towel too, and rubbing away at her golden hair with another one. Her statuesque frame filled the doorway, her sheer presence shrinking the floor to half its size.
‘Oh. I didn’t realise. Sorry.’ she said, adjusting the towel tighter around her cleavage and turning back toward the door. ‘I’ll wait until you’ve finished’
‘Don’t you worry about him pet’ said Sandra. ‘He’s seen plenty of girls starkers in his time. You go right ahead.’
Lorraine turned back to face us again, blew out her cheeks loudly, and looked skywards in some silent prayer.
Although her feet were quite still, the rest of her was one nervous fidget. Her head looked left and right, and then up and down. Looking at anything, it seemed, was preferable to looking at either me or my wife.
‘Can’t I go in after you? I just feel a bit...um…you know’
‘Oh for goodness sake, Lorraine. He’s already seen them. Hurry up and get in will you?’
Lorraine glared a glare capable of killing, and took a deep breath before turning her back to us once more. She pulled her towel open, letting it fall to the floor in an untidy heap. Her young body was truly magnificent when completely nude, especially when viewed from just a few feet. That big, bountiful bottom was even more voluptuous than I had remembered, and I savoured it as she stepped in.
‘Sit down then’ instructed Sandra ‘You can’t just stand there!’
Lorraine somehow managed to kneel and twist at the same time, preserving a great deal of her modesty, until she was finally sitting down, waist deep in the water. She had given up trying to cover her breasts though, their roundness still evident as they lay against her chest. The sea green water concealed everything from her hips down, but as she stretched her legs out, she placed both hands down between her thighs as if to protect herself even further.
‘There you go’ encouraged Sandra. ‘That feels better doesn’t it?’
‘Yeah, a bit’ mumbled Lorraine, through barely open lips.
I continued to be fascinated by Lorraine’s body as she lay back. The width of those shoulders and the size of her breasts leaving me almost hypnotised. She looked straight ahead at the bath taps, and remained perfectly still as the water lapped around her, clearly concerned that any movement might cause her even more embarrassment.
‘Any room for a little one?’ said Sandra, slipping off her own covering and shoving it firmly into my hands.
I watched Lorraine steal a look between my wife’s legs before Sandra’s bottom met the enamel with a squeak. In order to make room for her, Lorraine was forced spread her thighs slightly, lift her knees, and position her feet either side of Sandra’s torso. The water level rose as soon as Sandra got comfortable, sadly allowing the foam to cover much more of Lorraine‘s body. Never had Archimedes’ discovery been used for such evil.
‘Would you like some of your candles bringing in love?’ I said, hoping to prolong Lorraine's agony for as long as I could.
‘That’s a lovely idea pet’ said Sandra, not even opening her eyes.
I stole two from the bedroom, turned off the harsh light, and sat down on the bathroom carpet. Although I expected someone to ask me to leave, no-one did, so I watched the pair of them bathe, a picture of peace and silence.
Perhaps half an hour had passed before Sandra broke the spell.
‘This water’s starting to get a bit cold. Pass me my towel please love. I’m all done. Make sure Lorraine dries herself properly though won’t you?’ she said, disappearing in a twirl of white and a line of wet footsteps.
I would have thought Lorraine quite capable of drying herself, but only a fool would have disobeyed an order like that. I stood up, to see that Lorraine still had both hands cupped between her long thighs. Her arms were squashing her breasts together, making them look even more appealing.
‘Come on then. Out you come’
‘Oh. I have to get out now, do I?’
She rose awkwardly, all arms and legs, until she regained her balance and stood up in the water, perfectly still, candlelit, and simply breathtaking. Her hands were by her side, and I was able to feast on a neat triangle of ginger curls for the first time. Water streamed from the hair for a few moments and then turned into a Morse code of drips and dribbles. The shadows played across the curves of her entire body, moving from hips to breast, and thigh to shoulder with each flicker of the candles, and she mercifully allowed me the time to enjoy every moment.
‘Can I have it then please?’ she asked, taking the towel from my hand.
I watched her work it briskly back and forth behind her back and shoulders, before bending forward and drying her thighs and calves. In no time, the silver droplets had all but gone from her skin.
‘Go on then’ she said, resigning herself to the ordeal. ‘I know you want to. Finish me off’
The offer was one I was never going to refuse.
Lorraine looked away again as I began, her bosom rising and falling with each breath. I dabbed away on her neck and shoulders, making her flinch as I touched under her arms, and then downwards onto those large, yielding breasts, watching the nipples harden as I brushed over them.
‘Could you turn round?’
I warmed to her compliance, a reminder of days long past.
She put her hands on her hips, and presented her back and that bottom, scalded scarlet from the water, and I dried the cheeks with broad, sweeping strokes, watching them wobble delightfully.
I kneeled down to dry her feet, and then her calves, before wiping the dampness from behind her knees and thighs. By some good fortune, I found my eyes level with heaven itself, the lips slightly parted, and glistening in the half light.
Lorraine felt me stop, clearly feeling my breath on the fine covering of spun gold that lay there.
‘Hmm... I thought you’d want to make sure all my bits and pieces were dry' she sighed, resigning herself to what was to come next.
'Oh God. Go on then. If you must.’
She bent forward, placing her hands on her knees, seemingly awaiting her fate.
I did want to make sure of course, so slid the towel underneath her, and reached around to ease it through. She spread her feet perhaps a yard apart, allowing me to see-saw it gently to and fro. Her hips rose and fell in time with each push and pull of the cloth, until she stood up straight again, putting her hands behind her head, and interlocking her fingers.
A heavenly minute passed before I noticed the tiny shockwaves being sent through the flesh of her bottom, just inches from my face.
‘Oh bloody hell. Now look what you’ve done. You’ve made me go all gooey. I'll need to have one now or I'll never sleep tonight’
She grasped my hand and placed it firmly underneath her. She was wet and slippery, despite the time spent drying her there, but the time had clearly not been wasted. I extended my finger until it found her pulsing, swollen clitoris, and circled it slowly, trying to keep a gentle, even pace. Lorraine’s breathing increased immediately, her hips and bottom moving in time.
‘Ooooh...that’s lovely’ she gasped, shivering.
I made her wait, teasing and playing, and she shifted position, placing one foot up on the side of the bath. It made access to that hardening little bud much easier, and the view even better. After a few more minutes of massaging her intimately, she moved again, swivelling around as fast as those awkward limbs would allow.
'You'll have to do it to me like this. There's not much room in here' she whispered
Lorraine shuffled onto the floor, bringing her knees up and spreading her legs. Any pretension of shame was long gone, and she displayed her golden pubic mound to me quite brazenly. I could see moist evidence of her excitement there, the lips exposed, pink and swollen.
‘I’ve never let anyone lick me before. I think it’s a bit dirty to be honest. I want to know what it feels like though. Please. I‘ll only need a couple of little kisses I think. I'm not far away now.’
I didn’t need to hear any more, and my head was between her thighs in an instant. I felt her hold her breath as I hovered above her most sensitive spot, and quiver, like she’d received an electric shock, when I eventually did flick my tongue at it. Her clitoris seemed harder to find than before, but the rewards were far greater when I did.
‘Oooh…blimey...that’s incredible...’ hissed Lorraine, grinding her hips forward onto my mouth.
We soon found our rhythm, Lorraine driving her hips purposely, and then trembling involuntarily. I knew her release was close at hand, and upped the pace to meet her.
With a series of juddering, urgent thrusts, her orgasm broke over her, crushingly hard, causing her to bite her lip and fill my mouth with her juices. She forced her thighs together while she rode the rapture, clamping my head firmly between them.
She released her grip as she recovered, allowing me to hear her exhale.
‘Bloody hell’ she gasped. ‘You’ve done that before haven’t you? That was the biggest I've ever had... thank you’
She stood up, albeit shakily, and kissed me gently on the cheek.
‘I’d go and see your wife now if I were you’ said Lorraine, patting my straining crotch. ‘She’ll need to help you with that. Oh, and give her a big kiss from me won’t you?’
She slipped away, without feeling the need to cover herself. I took one last look at that magnificent derriere as she walked unsteadily down the hall, knowing that she’d be gone in the morning, and that I would never see it again.
We went to see her of course, although we weren’t invited. Her father had rang to tell us of her achievement, but managed to stop short of any thanks.
We pushed to the front of the crowd so that Sandra could see, but Lorraine was easy to spot anyway, head and shoulders above the hundreds of flowing black robes, her hair glowing like a bonfire in November. Her own gown swamped her figure, but the knowledge of what lay underneath was still enough to make me smile. She was no more than five yards away, but blindly unaware of both our presence and of the difference she had made to us.
‘Please Sandra. Go on.’ I begged. ‘Can’t you just tell me? Now that she’s gone?’
Sandra cast me a sly smile, tucking her hair behind her ear.
‘Oh all right. If it’ll shut you up. It was all about choices, pet. I simply told Lorraine she could go along with my little suggestions, or I could make a quick phone call. She just had to choose which. A few lonely years in Wales, or let you have a few peeks at her. I think she made the right decision in the end, don’t you?’
‘Well, you little..’ I stuttered. ‘How did you know it would work though? I mean...they said…’
‘Oh don’t talk to me about those clowns. I always knew they were wrong. They’d no idea what they were talking about. Just kids themselves, most of them. You just needed some help that’s all, and Lorraine did her bit, I’ll give her that. You were amazing that night. You’d certainly never kissed me that hard before. You even tasted a bit different. I’d never felt you go that deep either. Amazing. I didn't even care that she could hear me screaming at the end. I thought I was going to pass out.’
Lorraine finally disappeared, lost somewhere in a rolling tide of black gowns.
I draped my arm around Sandra’s shoulder, and rubbed her burgeoning bump.
I had, at long last, managed to provide for her.
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