After the Funeral Ch. 02

I had returned to my bedroom, quietly closed the door and crept into bed in as usual ungarbed. Whilst still wondering what Mum was up to and what the hell was going in Dawn's head, I slipped into sleep.

As if in a dream, I became aware of a very soft movement near my thigh. Still very sleepy and only semi-conscious, I thought it was Janet, deciding to go down me, which was very rare, but enjoyable. She had, after all, first ensconced me with her mouth on my cock. My very sleepy mind jigged me into realizing that it wasn't and couldn't possibly be Janet.

The movement beneath the sheet, for that was all that was covering me, must have been and was, in fact, Mum.

I didn't react for some reason but remained still, half turned toward the bedside. In the dark I could just glint that Mum's head was under the sheet, she was wearing her nightie, kneeling on the floor. I could feel her soft fingers seeking out my cock under the sheet, followed by a wetness that must have been her tongue. Her fingers were deftly stroking my stem, just below my circumcised head. Her tongue, then her mouth enveloped my most sensitive part around the pronounced head that separated us from the uncut of this world.

Now very much awake, I had to decide what to do. Would I, as normal, place my hand round the back of her head to acknowledge and show my approval and appreciation of what she was doing, as would have happened with Janet or Ruth? Or would I remain passive and ostensibly asleep. By doing the former, would be to show Mum that blowing me was one of the most intimate and beautiful things she could do for me. By the latter, she would not know quite how I felt. Moreover, by not conveying recognition, it would also give her more leeway as to whether we openly acknowledged this level of intimacy or not.

I decided on the latter path. Her fingers and mouth are now having their effect. Even though she had caught me in orgiastic bliss on the phone with Ruth, just a few hours ago, her mouth and small fingers were having their way with me. My swelling resulted in more rapid finger strokes on her part as well as her spending more time concentrating her tongue on the underside of my head.

I still managed to remain still, sensing no hesitation on her part. I was even able to resist thrusting my hips, my normal response to a passive blow-job. It was a novel, yet arousing experience, just letting her do all the work.

As my cock rose to its full length, she took both hands to my stem, ensuring I didn't slide too far in her mouth. She was now in full swing, slurping her profuse saliva all round my head and beginning to suck harder at the same time. One of her hands sought my balls and clasped them tenderly. She affected a steady rhythm now not seeming to want to rush me, which was fine by me. Having cum recently, I could stay awhile in this state.

Why was she doing this to me and for me? In gratitude for my masturbating her following her tears and upset earlier? Was she seeking any port, following Dad's demise and Dawn's fury? Did she actually fancy her son sexually? That was obvious. She wouldn't have come near be like this if she didn't want sex and probably found me attractive and safe. Whatever, this was sheer bliss. I didn't feel at all guilty let her suck me off. This was a wonderful ending to the funeral and I would soak it for all it was worth.

But I now sensed urgency on her part. Her mouth was tightening round my head and her tongue gripped and slid up and down my underside at its most sensitive.

To maintain my passivity was going to be an almighty strain. She was going to accomplish her ends. What was I to do with my spunk? She had taken the choice from me and she was going to have it in her mouth unless she spat me out. I had no idea what she did with Dad or even if they did suck each other. But she was sucking me now and that was all that mattered. A deep suck on her part had its effect.

I blew, or rather, let it seep out with one huge internal relief. Usually, I am known for the loudness of my cums, but now that was repressed but still just beautiful in its suppressed energy and urgency on her part. She had come to get it and she now had got it in her mouth.

As soon as I came she removed her head from the sheet. I remained eyes closed but sneakily saw her walking silently away and closing my door behind her. Turning over, I drifted once again to sleep.

Waking late on Sunday morning, I felt damp below, I needed a morning pee. Then the realisation hit me. I had given her a slow masturbatory orgasm last night and she had come to me in the night and fellated me. my god, how were we to handle that, particularly as my masturbation of her was barely recognised and she had come to me and to all intents and purposes I could have had a wet dream but with no spunk! That amused me. But we still had a problem on our hands.

Washing and dressing informally in my track suit, I went downstairs about ten-thirty to find her fully dressed in the kitchen in rather dowdy clothes which hid her sexuality. Sweater and pants and slippers. No apparent stockings and no glimpse of her sexy breasts. Her physical appearance was matched by her mental stance, I very soon found. She passed the time of day, what she was doing the rest of the day, when supper would be ready and other necessary but avoiding tactics. She didn't give one glimmer of last night's sexual interludes. She didn't even refer to Dawn.

Apparent impasse. I decided, at least for this morning, to go along with her avoidance, at least until suppertime. I didn't know what I would do then, except to let it take its course.

Mum went out about twelve. I decided to remain indoors for the day. That's what I thought at the time anyway. Soon after Mum departed the phone rang. At first I thought to ignore it but it could have been Mum. In fact, it was Dawn.

"Is that Ian?"

"Hello Dawn, yes it's Ian."

"I see you are on your own Ian. Can I come and see you or would you like to come here?"

"Perhaps, I should come to you Dawn, don't you think?"

"Yes, Ian that's probably wise."

"When would you like me to come round Dawn?"

"How about now Ian?"

"I'll be five minutes dawn."

"Thanks so much. Bye for now."

Still in my track suit and trainers but not bothering with underwear, I knocked on her door. She opened it partially and standing mostly behind it, she invited me in. she was still in her night gear. But looked as if she had made some effort for my appearance, having presumably put some lipstick on and brushed her hair. She was wearing a silk dressing gown that came to her knees with a tight cord round her waist, making her breasts look rather fulsome. She wasn't wearing a bra for they did swing rather low in contrast to how I had previously seen her. I could just discern the outline of her nipples against the tightness of her gown because of that belt. Nice for a Sunday morning. At least for me. Best of all when she walked into the living room I noticed stockings, tights? In addition, she was wearing high heeled canvass shoes with ties round her raised ankles that added tautness to her calves. She had gone to some preparation for this meeting.

But I also noticed she had been crying a lot as her face was flushed and her eyelids heavy.

"You rang me Dawn. Are you ok?"

"Not really Ian. I think I've been hard on Jean."

"Do you?"

"Yes, I have. She must be furious with me Ian."

"Why might that be Dawn?" I was determined not to be a conduit for them or convey Mum's hurt.

"I was jealous Ian, of you, in fact."

"What would make you jealous of me, I'm only her son."

"When I came in the kitchen that day I thought you were touching her up." I didn't tell Dawn that I did have a swollen cock but that would have been an honest account.

"Only later Ian did I realise she is just fond of you and that you had been estranged before your father died."

I decided to get closer."Are you and Mum an item Dawn?"

"Not really. Not yet anyway. But I would like to. Does that shock you Ian?"

"Why should it Dawn? You're both attractive women. The idea of it is rather lovely, I'd say." She smiled at that and crossed her legs, showing off her lovely legs and the hose and canvass heels.

"Well Dawn, if it were not complicated round Mum, I'd fancy my chances myself." She folded her arms under her breasts and almost involuntarily squeezed them, pressing those nipples hard against her silk gown.

"What does 'not yet' mean then?"

"A long story. You want me to tell all?" she saw more than acquiescence on my part.

"Whilst you father was in hospital, Jean would get home rather late in the evening. We had been friends ever since I moved in a year ago after my divorce. One evening when she returned I heard her getting her keys out and opened my front door, to offer her a drink and a chat. She hesitated but then agreed. We soon got a little tiddly sitting on this couch. After about an hour we got round to talking about our emotional and sexual lives, or rather the lack of them. It was then I shocked her by mentioning my little friend, I called my little beaver. Yes I can see you know what I mean Ian. Well she then kept asking me loads of questions, how often did I use it, where, how, when I was in what mood and when did I get it. So I suggested she have a look at it. As it happened it was in the folds of the couch, and she was nearest. So I told her to reach for it. She reached down and pulled it out. Would you like to see my little friend Ian?"

"Love to Dawn." With that she reached for it and stroked it warmly in her hands.

"Well Ian, I let her play with it but then said it comes alive. She looked uncertainly at me and it. I must admit I was amazed at her naivety, but there we are. Anyway I suggested she turn the base like this and whoopee it comes alive." But she then switched it off, presumably not wanting to embarrass me, muttering about saving batteries.

"Jean and I drifted away from the vibrator theme and she put it down on the coffee table. She then went into a long story about how deprived she had allowed herself to be in recent years with her hubby lacking interest in all matters sexual including her. I asked her if she looked after herself. She looked embarrassed and replied that she felt guilty doing it but occasionally did when she found herself on her own. So I then went into how she should look after herself with or without a vibrator. She then went quiet on me."

"Jean you need some tlc. Let me come and give you a cuddle. Before she could react I was beside her and just held her. She didn't resist even though she wasn't aware of my intentions. Ian I had already made up my mind I wanted her. I know you must be aware of that. I just held her body next to me and her head in my hands. She collapsed in a shed load of tears, grief and eventually relief that she had someone to share. She then told me that she had been told your father didn't have long to live. This was the real story that night. Even though I was gasping for her and soaking wet, I just couldn't breach her boundaries. So I consoled her. Eventually she said she had better say goodnight. We kissed lightly on our cheeks. I followed with a peck on her lips. As she had put her coat on, I pressed my little friend into her hand, saying, "don't say no Jean just take it and borrow it for the night or as long as you want." She went all shy on me and disappeared.

"Quite a story Dawn." I crossed my legs to disguise the swelling that happened in my trainers with no pants to restrain it. She noticed but said nothing. Without my encouraging her she continued with her story.

"Well Ian the day being Sunday she was round in the late morning inviting herself for coffee. We went round the houses then she fished out of bag the vibrator, thanking me profusely for the loan of it. So I probed her as to how she found it. She just glowed. I hadn't seen her so happy in months. So I asked where she had used it. Naughty question but eventually she answered in a roundabout sort of way, but I then realised she had used it on her clit. So I asked how many times she had cum. blushing again, four times. I smiled and got up to hug her. She was much warmer and relaxed with me this time. I shared with her how comforting it could be when alone, but that there was nothing like someone else's hand or mouth when it came down to it. She stiffened in my arms when I mentioned a mouth but didn't shy away from me. She then asked me if my husband had done those things to me. I replied no and then asked her if hers had. He hadn't either. I left it there for her to mull on."

"You're a naughty one Dawn, aren't you."

"And what about you Ian? You didn't look very platonic that day I came into the kitchen and caught you with her in your arms.

"That's for you to decide Dawn."

"That means yes. You do fancy your own mother Ian." She came out with that statement as if she had prepared it well before. I didn't reply.

"Your silence tells me all." I decided to turn it on her.

"So that makes both of us Dawn." Her turn to smile.

"Would you like the rest of the story Ian?" I nodded.

"Well the evening of the funeral, I was with Jean after that incident in the kitchen. She was in grief and had come out of it and was very warm in her cuddling of me. I thought she was getting off on it and decided to kiss her properly and full on. She remained impassive. I held back my fury given what I had been to her. I went home so angry. When she just 'popped round' next morning I let rip and told her to fuck off. I was fed up with her lack of comprehension as to how I felt. And sent her off with my anger at its worst. I can be very angry Ian and she got it in full measure."

"Anyway, I've calmed down now and you've helped me Ian, particularly now I know we both want her. We should work out a way of sharing her. What do you think?"

"You're a dirty bi-sexual?, woman Dawn. I like it. We may have more in common than we realised."

"Well we certainly have your mother in common. How can you help me Ian and my help you?"

"Dawn, I will say we had a conversation today to help soothe things. But Dawn I am more interested in what's going on between us now."

"So what might that be Ian?"

"I've noticed how nicely you've done yourself out today Dawn. Quite the sexy little kitten in that outfit. The only thing I couldn't work out is whether there tights or stockings?"

"Guess."

"Stockings." She smiled triumphantly. And opened her legs and thighs for me to dwell on her hose up to her cunt and beyond. No panties. I could see the dark outline of her cunt hair. Shit, what a surprise and her so unabashed and brazen with me. I unfolded my legs and let my covered erection have free reign.

"Dawn, some rules. We must first decide how private this is between us given we both want her. Right?"

"Right Ian. Lets this be a secret between us." We agreed. "What do you want now Ian?"

I responded by unravelling my legs and letting her have a clear view of my erection, albeit, covered by my track suit. She looked unabashed at it and commented,

"Ian I don't want you to think I've led a sheltered life. I am a really dirty woman who hasn't relied on her fucking wet husband for her sexual life. I haven't even got into my other life, apart from wanting your mother's cunt in my mouth and her hands all over me. She's the first woman I've ever fell for. That's why I was so angry with her when she rejected my desire to make love to her. But at my age I want all I can get. You've come into my life as well. I could cope if you can with us playing whilst we make demands on your Mum."

With that she opened her hosed thighs wider and started to use her fingers to stroke her pussy hairs. But whilst she watched my cock stiffening even more as I stared at her flicking fingers, she got impatient and with both hands, tore at the seam over her cunt until she succeeded in accessing her wetness, even though she had ruined the tights. Her fingers wove rapidly into her inner folds and she opened her lips for my inspection.

I pushed my track suit trousers below my arse and stood over wanking at her body and taking a liberty and running my free hand over her ample yet slightly droopy breasts still covered by her gown. I was beginning to relish this unexpected foray with Mum's friend who was furiously rubbing her now accessible clit in response to my obscene move to stand over her.

"Where do want to cum Ian? Over my face, tits, in my mouth or what?"

The doorbell at that moment made its noisy presence felt. Both Dawn and I just getting into a mood of delicious filthy mutual wanking and loving it.

"Ian, I have a sneaking suspicion that might be jean. Go upstairs and hide. Whatever happens I'll keep her here with me. Quick now or she may disappear again."

We both redressed to a degree of decency as I fled upstairs. Dawn now decent but still looking delectable, went to the front door. Unusually she asked who was there and got a querulous reply from Mum announcing herself. Maybe it was more hesitant a voice. Dawn opened the door just a little, not sure what she was going to face.

"Dawn, may I come and talk with you please?"

Dawn recalled her anger when she threw Jean out but felt some remorse immediately. The presence of Jean in a light summer frock softened Dawn immediately.

"Oh do come in Jean, I'm really glad you've come round to see me."

Jean took in Dawn scanning her body in the summer frock she had picked out so carefully as projecting softness and openness to the woman she had had advances from. She didn't want to spoil this occasion with another rejection.

With the door closed, they stood very near each other with no more words expressed. Dawn raised her hand to Jean's cheek and caressed it. As soon as she did that, Jean fell into Dawn's arms and lapsed into a flood of tears in relief that she hadn't been rejected.

Slowly, Dawn led Jean into the same room she and Ian had been getting off on and was privately relieved she hadn't got the vibrator out with Ian.

Ian witnessed it all and it did nothing to dampen his erection. He would have doffed a hat at Dawn's rapid adjustment of her behaviour. He moved again so he could still see what was happening between them.

Once in the room and still standing, Dawn lifted Jean's face by her chin. She saw a harrowed woman whose eyes betrayed even more sadness than she had endured. Though truth to say she wasn't as vulnerable as Jean.

Taking Jean's cheeks in each hand, she drew her lips to her own and pressed them to her hoped for lover's. Jean responded by bringing her arms round Dawn's back and clinging to her as if it were her only chance. Their tongues sought each other. Mum wasn't holding back and Dawn sensed this. Each others hands were all over buttocks, thighs, waists, shoulders. Now Dawn stepped back to view her lover, still holding her by her shoulders.

Dawn decided that now was not the moment for restraint. She was going to put Jean to the test, to assess her commitment, real or feigned. Withdrawing her arms she stood directly facing her. Taking her frock buttons one by one, (there must have been a dozen) she commenced to unbutton her top. First thing she noted was the absence of a bra, but she didn't open her up immediately as she got beyond her breast, merely her delightful cleavage to her drooping breasts (that makes two of us). Continuing and getting what she thought was approval, she came across a lovely pink silk suspender belt, so old fashioned but delightful. Next was the slight plumpness of her lower tummy held in somewhat by her belt. On and down and the first glimpse of hair voluminous and untouched with a very few speckles of grey amongst her dark brown hairs. Then on downwards to soft white thighs, still close together but so inviting and on to her light brown silk stockings held up by those lovely garters. Her unbuttoning was complete.