Thus it was that with naught but motherly care, as she told herself, Margaret decided to make as silent as possible a visit to Hugh's room that night in order to extract from him what was wrong-if anything other than a moodiness of youth. That she might have done so fully dressed did not seem to occur to her. Attired solely in a crimson nightdress of silk, edged with white lace, she entered his bedroom and found him lying upon his bed in his nightshirt in quite a dreamlike state from the events of the day.
The maternal and yet voluptuous vision that thus appeared almost silently before him in the gloom served rather to excite his thoughts than otherwise as Margaret seated herself on the side of the bed and asked him what ailed him.
'Nothing-nothing at all, Mama', answered Hugh petulantly while his eyes did not fail to observe the thick and promising nipples that indented the silk which also flowed revealingly about her thighs and hips. Her tits wobbled heavily, complementing the weight of her full bottom of which Hugh had already seen more than he ever dreamed he would.
'Why, there must be something you have to tell your Mama', Margaret soothed, subsiding beside him and raising her legs so that they lay alongside and in utterly disturbing nearness to his own.
'Really, Mama…', Hugh began for in one way he wished to be left alone with his stirring visions of what had passed, though equally the warm bulging of her breasts to his arm stirred him as well. Knowing not which way to turn, he finally uttered what seemed to Margaret a doleful murmur and, rolling on his hip, cuddled into her much as he had done when little.
'Tell Mama', urged Margaret who then to her immense
surprise (or so she would have avowed) experienced the straining of her son's stiff penis against her belly, the knob being distinctly felt against her skin through the flimsy attire of the pair.
'Nothing', muttered Hugh again, though more shamefacedly, for a slight movement of his balls had caused them to swing for a moment and make the most moving of additional contacts against the thick brush of her mount whose curls burred through the silk.
'There must be something', Margaret uttered rather chok-ily. Being aware that she should draw her form back, she yet failed to do so and fell into an even greater laxity of posture from which she told herself she ought to stir. Second by second Hugh's cock seemed to grow even stiffer, impinging its length and heat into her flesh.
'Dunno', came her son's muffled murmur, for that which he wished to tell her he dare not, and that which he could not dare frustrated him the more. Throwing his upper arm impetuously around her waist, he rubbed himself pupplike against her, causing Margaret a great confusion of sensations for his weapon was gliding up and down her belly with a message that needed no translation.
'Hugh-IE!' uttered she, though it was little but a whimper and one that persuaded her son that her desires in that moment were no less than his own.
'Ma-ma!' responded Hugh in a tone that was at once wheedling, passionate and petulant. His hands clasped the rearing cheeks of her bottom which he could feel so exciting full through the silk. His fingers dug into the resilient half-moons, causing her nightgown to ruck up until his risen prick urged against her naked thigh.
Swimmy with desire and yet telling herself to stop, Margaret defensively slid her hand between their bodies and clasped his rigid weapon, causing Hugh to groan with delight and to attempt to rub it in her palm.
'No, Hughie, no, darling, this must stop!'
'Mama, please, let me kiss it!'
'Kiss what, kiss what?' asked Margaret chokily while endeavouring to use all her will-power not to fondle his throb-ber.
'Please, your thing-you know-in between…'
'Hughie, no! Oh my goodness! Remember who I am! Such things can never be!' cried his Mama who seemed momentarily to forget what she herself was so firmly grasping. Whether it was a fear of some untoward interruption that would find her in an even more guilty condition than were she sporting with her nephews, or whether she was actually resisting her own desires, she was not sure. Betwixt the two thoughts, she unleashed her fingers from around her son's very promising pego and rolled quickly off the bed to flounder to the door with her nightdress looped up halfway to her thighs.
'No, Hughie-oh, you naughty boy, you must never, never; do you hear?'
Her wild look perhaps betrayed her, though it was concealed from Hugh in the dark of the bedroom, and then she was gone. Throwing herself upon her bed, she lay upon her back with her knees drawn up and began dreamily, passionately toying with her sticky-moist and longing slit while a bereft Hugh lay in a similar pose, bumping his hips with abandon and frigging himself in a maze of ecstastic dreams until his fervent sperm jetted into the air and formed pools upon the sheet between his legs.
Chapter Nine
At the first, Margaret had not listened overmuch to Mabel's account of how they had met a 'very nice lady' who, it appeared, had recently moved into the district. Upon giving the matter more cogitation, however, it began to occur to her that such an acquaintanceship would be a fine way of getting some of the young people out of the house more often. The following morning, therefore, she evinced more interest in Vanessa and learned that her age was 'perhaps'-so Mabel said-about twenty-seven or so.
'How pleasant it will be for all of us to know her, then', Margaret remarked, much to the secret pleasure of Mabel who thereupon, with her aunt's accord, wrote a pleasant little note to Vanessa inviting her to come to tea.
Vanessa did not fail to respond in a like manner, though meanwhile she had had other things to do, having elicited from her now submissive brother almost all that had transpired in his conversation with the Vicar. Thus she knew of the imminent visit of an otherwise unknown girl, young Sally, to the Vicarage and with due aplomb made her appearance there a short while before the new supplicant was due to arrive.
Being utterly delighted to see her after the unexpected rebuff he had received upon meeting Vanessa in the lane, the Vicar showed such caution as he felt was necessary and permitted the conversation to flow from her rather than from himself. Alarmingly at first he thus began to understand that his beautiful visitor knew far more than he had ever hoped she would and indeed had appeared to have become quite transformed.
'How old is the girl who is to visit you tonight in preparation-as I understand it-for her confirmation?' Vanessa asked after the polite preliminaries had been exchanged.
'Sixteen, my dear', replied the cleric who from her calm demeanour saw no point in beating about the bush. As he spoke, so Vanessa laid down her glass of welcoming sherry and waved away his attempt to refill it.
'It may be that we shall come to an understanding', she said to his amazement, though this he concealed and asked warily, 'In what way, my dear?'
'In such a way as will benefit us both. Did I not act out my own part with you admirably?' Vanessa lied glibly, and then continued, 'You will thus be aware that I can play many parts. You have a penchant for young girls. It is common among men-less so among women, but there are other females such as myself who have what may be called…'
'Dual tastes?' put in the Vicar politely, and received a nod that was more grateful than he could have known.
'Precisely. Your housekeeper, whom I have just briefly met, is no doubt a splendid woman, but perhaps does not possess the finesse that I could bring to certain occasions. In permitting you such as I may concerning my own person, I require the return of favours from yourself. That is to say', Vanessa said, looking most earnest as she leaned upon his desk, 'There are occasions when I shall assist you. Such as with Sally'.