Those Days of...Ch. 11-15

She collapsed forwards, still gasping for breath, her entire body hot and sticky with perspiration from the force of her exertions, and I held her tightly down against myself, grateful for the opportunity to recover from the power of the climax she had produced for me. Some time later she finally rolled off me, my cock making a loud squelching sound as even more fluid gushed from her pussy and then we simply lay quietly as our bodies began recovering from the intensity of what we had shared.

Chapter 13

Barbara's Visits

The next few weeks seemed to fly by. We each had our work, and in the evenings and at the week-ends, each other. We seemed to never tire of the pleasures our coming together gave us, each time was fresh, each time there was something new. Sometimes whoever was home first, and that was usually Helen, could hardly wait for the other to close the door behind them before they began. Other times we were both happy to simply be together, preparing a meal, doing some chores, occasionally going out for a meal or to a movie or show.

We talked too of course, learning more of each other's past, hopes, dreams and ambitions, but it seemed as though each of us was being careful to avoid the subject of Barbara. She dropped round a few times, usually to collect additional things from her room and though I was sometimes out when she called, when I was there I got the distinct feeling that she was watching me, as though waiting for me to do or say something.

I had to admit to myself that those infrequent visits kept the memory of my earlier pictures of her fresh in my mind, those and the strange and disturbing conversation between Helen and I.

I had given an answer to her question that seemed to please and satisfy her, but later had several times tried to be totally honest with myself. I had no trouble admitting that just the thought of having Barbara in bed, or anywhere else come to that, was more than enough to bring my cock to full attention. And the thought of having both of them together in bed with me very nearly made me shoot-off in my pants. But something, whether it was the deeper feelings I had developed for Helen or some more general, social taboo, seemed to get in the way of my being able to accept those, presumably natural reactions.

When Barbara dropped around she usually wore either shorts or jeans with some sort of T-shirt, the one thing they had in common was that they were all tight enough to show off the fact that she usually went bra-less. Once she'd collected whatever she had come for we'd sit together for a while, she and Helen chatting, while I surreptitiously watched the way the pronounced curves of her mouth-watering breasts slowly swayed each time she moved. My cock reacted in the only way it knew how and if Helen had wanted to be really sure of what reactions Barbara produced, not just inside my head but elsewhere too, a quick feel of my crotch would have been more than enough to confirm the truth.

But she didn't, Barbara would leave, Helen make a couple of comments about how well she looked, that she seemed happy enough, and that was that. But after each visit I found it took a while for me to blank out the picture of those gently swaying breasts, and for my cock to subside. And, as it seemed that each time it was taking me a little longer to get rid of the images and my reactions to them in some ways I was relieved Helen didn't raise the subject of a threesome again, until after one dramatically different visit.

That particular evening when I came home I found Barbara already there. As she was out on the narrow landing at the top, bending over to get something out of a chest they kept there, I saw her as I began climbing the stairs from the front door. She had presumably come straight from work because she wasn't in her more usual casual clothes, wearing a short straight skirt, and under it, black stockings. I could see they were stockings and not pantyhose because when I glanced up I found I could see straight up under her skirt. And as I stood still, staring up along the sheer black nylon clad legs, my eyes moved slowly higher, to where the darker welt separated the line between stockings and the pale curve of her thighs.

She must have heard the door close, my footsteps on the stairs and then that they had stopped, and known what I was doing, but she didn't move, she stayed in that position for as long as I stood staring up at her, and I can't tell how long that actually was, at the time it seemed like an age.

In the weeks we had been together Helen had become something of an expert in providing for my fetish about her legs, and seemed to get almost as much of a thrill from what she did as she gave me in doing it. She had gradually bought a whole range of suspender belts, garters and variously coloured stockings. Even when she didn't deliberately flaunt the fact that she was wearing them for me, which she usually did, just knowing what delights were waiting to be uncovered gave me a buzz. And on those occasions when she purposely kept them on while we made love, and I had the thrill of the silky feel of them wrapped around me as we did, she took me to my seventh heaven.

So it wasn't that I had been deprived of the stimulation that stocking clad legs gave me and although they were terrific, Barbara's legs were not in the same class as Helen's. But nevertheless, standing there, looking all the way up them, gave me an almost instantaneous erection, and as I felt it rise I felt the same urge that I had that Saturday morning when I had found her in bed with Julia, on almost overpowering urge to thrust it deep, deep between the smooth, fleshy cheeks of her arse.

Finally I tore my eyes away and went up the remaining stairs, but even when she straightened up and turned to give me a quiet 'hello' and a mischievous grin, I couldn't get rid of the memory of what I had seen, nor the powerful reaction it had triggered. And the rest of what she was wearing simply added fuel to the fire that sight had lit. A short tailored jacket, beneath she had on a white blouse with a scooped neck that exposed an expanse of creamy white skin of the rising swell of her breasts.

Coupled with the still sharp picture of what I had seen a few seconds before, and another of the ones I carried in my head, of her standing beside Julia, fully naked, just one look was enough to send a shiver of need coursing up through me.

Barbara didn't help, she just stood there, looking me straight in the eye, not saying a word, letting me continue to stare at her, seeing my tension, watching the reactions that must have shown on my face. Then when she finally lowered her eyes she looked straight down, at my crotch, where she must have been able to see the pronounced bulge my cock was undoubtedly making. When she saw the proof of my reaction to her I saw a small satisfied smile crinkle the corners of her mouth, and it was only then that she moved, and that was towards me.

She stood so near that I could almost feel her breath as she spoke. 'What Julia and I have together is good, really good Roger, but its nowhere near as good as what I think you and I could have. You know that don't you?'

I couldn't speak, I just nodded.

Then, as she continued. 'You can't deny you want me too.' she reached forward and I felt her hand covering the ridge of my cock and then her fingers curling around it. Again I could only dumbly nod before she added. 'I'm sure Mother wouldn't mind, in fact I think she wants us to get together as much as we do.'

Her eyes seemed to bore right through me and what her fingers were doing below was getting me dangerously close to making a fool of myself, and yet I couldn't find the strength to stop her. 'Why me?' I finally managed to croak. 'I'm too old for you, your mother and I are happy together. If Julia isn't enough, why not some guy closer to your age?'

At that, to my intense relief, seemed to break the incredible tension between us, she let go of me, turned and started to move towards the kitchen, and I heard a catch in her voice as she answered. 'I can't explain it properly myself. I just know I want you. In a way, I wish I didn't.' she added as I watched her disappear through the door.

I continued to stand there, still feeling the effects of the rising surge she had created inside me when just then, and luckily, Helen came home. She paused at the foot of the stairs when she saw me and in answer to the questioning look I saw appear on her face I said. 'Barbara's here.'

As she came up towards me she must have seen and recognised the cause of the state I was in and I inwardly groaned when all she said was. 'So I see.' Before she went straight past me and into the kitchen, where I heard the two of them exchange a few brief words. Then Barbara rushed out and with just one quick, almost pleading look, sped down the stairs and was gone.

Helen followed her out and as the door below slammed shut, reached up and gave me a long kiss, full on the mouth. 'Let's solve the immediate problem first, then we'll see what else we need to do.' she said. Then, dropping to her knees, quickly unfastened my trousers, slid them and my pants down my legs and with eager fingers and lips had the bottled up cum fountaining from me in what seemed like only a matter of seconds.

Even after the excitement of that, then a shower and change of clothes I still felt disoriented, which Helen obviously realised, because she gave me time, letting me get us both drinks and then to sit quietly for a while, before she started to ask about what had happened.

I told her everything, holding nothing back. How I had come home and found Barbara already there, how, as I climbed up the stairs I had seen her, bending over the chest on the landing and that from below I could see she was wearing black stockings, my fatal weakness. I admitted that I had stood there, looking up at her, got excited by what I saw, and by the memory that view triggered. That Barbara had then literally offered herself to me, and that while she was talking she had been further exciting me by fondling my cock.

Helen listened, not saying a word until I had finished.

'So, now do have any doubts about what I was saying a while ago?' she asked.

'You mean about my wanting to make love to Barbara?'

'Partly.'

'Just because I got excited by seeing her like that, and then what she did to me, that still doesn't mean I want to risk what I have with you by making love to her.'

'But you wouldn't be risking anything, silly! It's what I want too, remember.'

'I still can't make sense of that bit Helen.'

'Who says sex has got anything to do with sense Roger?'

'O.K., O.K. - I know what you mean. I still can't see what's driving you, that's all.'

'But you must recognise you could do it, that you'd enjoy it. After your reaction to her you can't have any doubts about that now.'

'No.' I mumbled, after recalling the virtually instant erection I'd got from simply looking up her legs and the way her clumsy fondling had brought me to the verge of climaxing, almost disastrously quickly.

'So?'

'So, what?'

'Oh, for goodness sake Roger! Would, I mean, will you do it?'

'Go to bed with the two of you?'

'Yes.' she said in an exasperated tone.

'That's what you really want?'

'Yes.'

'You'll explain why?'

'Yes.'

'O.K.' I said after a long pause. Though I couldn't really say why I took so long to answer, I suppose that somewhere or other inside my head was the suspicion that there just had to be some kind of trap lurking underneath Helen's urging. Not that I could imagine why she would be doing that, it was just that the scenario was too bizarre for there not to be one. A mother doing her level best to get the guy she said she loved, to go to bed with her daughter. It just didn't make sense!

But even my pretty unenthusiastic response produced an excited reaction from Helen.

'You mean it?' she said, jumping up from her chair and flinging her arms around me as she landed in my lap.

'Yes. Yes, I mean it.' I said, trying to dodge her wild kisses. 'So, what about an explanation?'

'I'm afraid I'll have to start a long way back if it's all to make any sense Roger, about twenty years ago in fact.'

Hearing that, it seemed more sensible to wait until after we had eaten, so together we prepared a meal and as I gave Helen the chance to get her thoughts in order, we ate in virtual silence, and she only started to try to explain what I saw as her strange obsession a short time later, when we were both more comfortably settled in the lounge-room.

Chapter 14

Helen's Explanation

'As I said Roger, it all really begins before Barbara was born, twenty years ago.'

I listened in silence and with growing fascination as Helen let herself slip back through the years.

'Luke, my husband and I had been married for a couple of years and although everything was fine between us I hadn't got pregnant. We had both agreed that we wanted a family and that it was more practical to start while we were young, 'growing up with your children' was all the rage then, people didn't put off having them the way they seem to today.

So, nothing was happening, in spite of our enthusiastic efforts to get me pregnant. There was nothing wrong with our sex life, such as it was. You would know yourself that we were much less complicated in those days, less sophisticated if you like, people were much more satisfied with basic things. Certainly sex wasn't out in the open the way it is today, obviously there were people with more complex needs and no doubt they satisfied them, but the average person had no way of knowing about it, it wasn't on TV, in the papers and magazines the way it is nowadays. So Luke and I went along, making love in the old-fashioned way, enjoying it, but in our case, with nothing to show for it.

Eventually we went to the doctor and after a series of what were to us, very embarrassing tests, we found out that we never could have children, either of us. I had both tubes blocked from something I had caught as a child and anyway Luke was told that his sperm count was too low to be able to be sure of fertilising me.

As you can imagine, we were both devastated for a while and the marriage went through a pretty rocky period. But then the doctor suggested adoption.'

'Adoption!' I thought. 'So Barbara was adopted, was that part of the explanation?' I wondered.

'That was much easier in those days, you hardly ever heard of unmarried mothers, you would remember that having a baby out of wedlock, as it was called, was a social no-no, a disgrace. Those sorts of girls weren't 'nice', no matter how they'd become pregnant, and abortions weren't legal of course. So, if you weren't well off you had the baby and then gave it up for adoption. There was a waiting list of course but in our case, because we were young and were medically incapable of having our own, we didn't have to wait too long before we got Barbara.

It was marvellous, we were both so happy, our marriage got back on the road, we became the absolute epitome of doting parents. Having seen her as a young woman you can imagine how gorgeous she was as a child. We were both from the country originally, and when we took her to visit our parents they were even more soppy about her than we were.

It was the start of a whole new life for us. And that's how it was for a long, long time.

I suppose you could say that we spoiled her and with all the fuss and attention we gave her it was only natural that she should play up to that, and she did become a bit of a show-off I suppose. Looking back I can see things that I never realised at the time, little things that I should have recognised and stopped, and if things had been different, if I had given birth to her, if we had other children, if we'd been less naive, I probably would have. But, I didn't see them, so I couldn't deal with them.

I don't know when or how it began of course, we had always lavished affection on her, lots of hugs and kisses, playing with her, tickling her, the sorts of things all parents do and of course she loved it, came looking for it, from both of us.'

Helen went quiet for a while and sensing something of what was to come, I realised how painful it was becoming for her to even think about it. When she did continue it was with eyes lowered, unfocussed, staring at some ill-defined point on the floor in front of herself.

'She was eighteen, in her last year at school, she had already planned on going to college, for the course she's doing and only needed to get reasonable marks in the exam, so she didn't have quite the same pressure that a lot of the kids have. Plenty of time to do things other than straight study. She'd had boy-friends of course, looking the way she did there had never been any shortage of boys queuing up to go out with her. But strangely, she never seemed to go overboard about any of them, the way teen-age girls usually do. I just thought she was mature for her age, thought how lucky Luke and I were in having such a sensible girl as our daughter.

My Father had become very ill, he'd had a stroke and Mother was finding it difficult coping with him, so I took time off from work and went up there to help her.

Originally I didn't know just how long I would be away, I wanted to make sure they were both all right of course, then arrange some permanent help from amongst their neighbours. As it turned out I was only away just on a week. Once I was confident the people would give them both even more help than I could if I stayed longer, I rang home and told Luke I'd be home on the following Sunday, so I could get back to work the following day. Then some other friends, who just happened to have to go down to the city came round and offered me a lift with them on the Saturday morning. And as that would get me home later that same evening I accepted, and in the rush of getting ready to go I simply forgot to ring home.

In fact it was about ten o'clock before we got back and when they dropped me off and I let myself into the house I couldn't understand why everything was so dark and quiet. Obviously they hadn't heard me come in and when I went into the bedroom and turned on the light I found them there, doing it, having sex together.

None of us got much sleep that night, I was in tears most of the time, Luke went through a whole range of emotions, from guilt, to anger, to self-pity. Barbara seemed the calmest of the three of us. She understood my tears of course, but couldn't seem to accept that I just couldn't see it the way she did. She said that to her, what they had done was just an extension of the love we all felt for each other, that sex was just the next step along from a hug and a kiss.

The next few days were terrible, as they say, you could have cut the atmosphere with a knife. I watched Luke like a hawk, only had to catch him just looking at Barbara to think he was planning when he'd be able to do it again. I didn't dare leave them alone, could hardly bear not being able to keep at least one of them in sight all the time.

Luke was hopeless, when he was home he either sulked or moped around the place and the way he looked at me you'd think it was me that had done it.

But it was Barbara who eventually pulled me through, not all at once, bit by bit. Repeated what she'd said that first evening, how it was an extension of her feelings for us, her love. She pleased us in various ways, doing her share of the chores, things like that, why shouldn't she please us in other ways too, emotionally, physically?

It was all new to me, it sounded horrible at first, but, as I said, little by little I began to see her side of things, understand at least something of what she meant.

We had never made a secret of the fact that she was adopted, she knew right from her early childhood because we'd both felt there was more risk of her being hurt if she found out later in life. Of course she had wondered about her mother and father from time to time, naturally she was curious about them, but it had never been a problem for her. She included that fact in amongst the explanation of her feelings and actions, that what she and Luke had done couldn't really be incest, because she wasn't our physical daughter. That biologically we were three separate people, who loved each other and who should be free to express our feelings for each other in whatever way we wanted to.