A sequel to – A Precious Gift
1
Gemma wondered just what she had gotten into with Stan so long ago, and that continued to possess them, even if it was in unequal measures.
What had begun as a purposeful affair, with her father-in-law, had endured for so much longer than she had ever dreamt would be possible, its destructive nature inevitably leading to one of them saying something, in an unguarded moment, that would reveal how a family bond had been stretched beyond imagining.
The rugged man, still so strong and virile, had opened the way for her to lead a new life. It was one that she had dreamt of and pursued with unflinching determination. Their personalities sparked off each other, with her wanting to be a mother and having difficulties with Jake in making that happen. Stan was bewilderingly compliant in tamping her until Jonno, and then Bryony had been conceived and born. She had slept with them both, son and father; the one compliant and the other passionate and so blissfully determined to help her and in doing so to please himself in his loving of her. Any hesitancy in what she had been persuaded to embark upon had soon fallen away, Stan ‘packing’ so much and being ragingly accomplished in bringing it to her.
That should have been the end of their times together, but that would have been to ignore what else played out between them, the knowledge that Stan had been the one whose ways had shattered any mental barrier to what she had wanted. To have had his support of her had been so at odds with his wife Betty’s almost casual indifference to whether her daughter-in-law bore her any grandchildren or not. There had to be some reason for it not happening she had opined and, by inference, the blame being put on her son’s wife.
Only, now, Betty doted on the two kids as if it had always been what she too had wanted and conveniently forgetting that it had been a case of her being supported by Stan, with Betty and Jake on the other side.
Over the years of her marriage, she had learned that Stan lived by his own rules. He accepted many, certainly not all, of the boundaries that Betty set for their lives together. They were said to be happy and were seen to be a devoted couple, each of them forthright and determined in their ways. Whenever it happened, the hot flush of an argument was soon dispelled by softer words. Stan was the pursuer of those quieter ways between them, his often gruff responses but a cover for the man beneath the skin.
Stan had even witnessed a defining argument, some five years ago, when she had stepped onto a path that had finally brought them together. Jake was heard complaining, that he wondered when she would accept that their marriage might be childless. He had failed to hear her approach as they talked, and a simple DIY task soon interrupted.
‘How long have you been standing there?’ Jake had asked in dismay on seeing Stan look over his shoulder at her.
‘Oh, long enough!’ she had shouted in reply and glared at him. ‘You’ve been playing me along all this time! Your mind’s been somewhere else! It takes two, in body and soul, to make it happen! Have you got that?’
Jake had been seen to hold out a hand to calm her, but she had not taken it. ‘I just need to understand when it’ll be that we accept all of this, the fact of us not having kids?’
‘One would be enough, just one! It would be a wonderful new step in our lives! Try to see it in that way just for a change, will you? Take in what it means to me!’
‘It cuts both ways!’ Jake had retorted and glared at her. ‘Just give it a rest, let things make their way…don’t force it.’
‘Oh, sure! If we did that, nothing would happen! You’ve gone off the idea of being with me, in…’ she had realized what was being said in Stan’s presence.
Stan had given her a soft smile of understanding, before she had rushed from the room, her footsteps echoing in the stairwell, then on the tiled floor of the hallway below them. She had known, then, that a defining moment in their relationships had been reached. It now involved both Jake and, disconcertingly, Stan too.
Yes, he had been ‘on her side’, then as now, and she had sensed that there was an inevitability about their circumstances and his concern for her, the attractive young woman with her obsession, he had told her when Jake was out of their hearing. She remembered the moment only too well. She had been clothed in her washed-out tan slacks and floaty white blouse; the fabric taut against the generous, weighty swell of her breasts and its neckline revealing a chunky Boho choker necklace.
She, the rebellious one, had come back into the room once Jake had left Stan. He was seen clearing up the mess of the building works they had both been working on. The look of a thoughtful, grey-haired man had been met; the look of a man whose bulk dwarfed her slender frame. What they had then told each other was like the making of a pledge and the forming of a bond. It had soon become a tempestuous, and only too defining, love affair; a relationship that could so easily flare into an all-consuming desire to be together again. She was a young woman only too aware of his continued attention on her that went way beyond the boundaries of their relationship, through her marriage to Jake.
After all, Stan had instinctively told her, at the time, ‘that we’ll get through this, and we’ll do that together.’
She had failed to realize that his spontaneous ways would place demands upon her when she least expected them. It was the man’s unpredictable nature, where it concerned the satisfying of his hunger for her, that kept all that they had discovered burning way too brightly. It was an aberrant and suppressed passion that could so quickly flare into an unquenchable heat.
2
It would soon be time for her to go to work, the children safely cared for in their playgroups and taken care of by friends until she could collect them. Organizing her work roster around them took some time and all of her persuasive skills.
Now she had some moments to spare and watched Stan through the kitchen window as he worked at relaying the sods of turf that covered the cable that supplied power to the garden lanterns that he had installed in places that she had chosen, with Jake’s agreement. They would bathe the grass, and close surroundings to them, in a soft light when the kids wanted to play in the gathering gloom of a winter’s evening, or when she and Jake entertained friends, seated around the table by the brightly painted garden shed with its decking.
Stan had created it all and had even paid for some of it, calling the works a ‘present’ for their birthdays, but she knew that he had done so mostly for her.
‘I’ll be off to work quite soon!’ she called out to him, through the open door that led out into the garden.
‘Okay, I’m almost through with this…it’s gone well,’ he answered with a casual wave and a stilled look her way. ‘I’ll come and see you off.’
She snorted a soft disbelieving laugh on hearing him say it and watched Stan step over the path towards her, treading down the edges of the turf that he had disturbed. He looked so darned ‘hot’ for a man his age, his faded denim shirt and jeans a counterpoint to his hair, along with a curly tuft of snow-white hair to be seen at the hollow of his throat, more on his breastbone, and all of it stark against Stan’s tanned skin. She watched him kick off his boots and leave them by the back door. He stood before her, his pouted smile and appraising look of his eyes again letting her know what was, or had been, on his mind when he had rung the doorbell and she had opened the door to him, once she had seen who it was by looking through the spy hole.
She had heard Stan say something, a compliment on her appearance, perhaps, but it had registered only vaguely in her consciousness. She had wanted him to take her, to use the little time that remained before she went to work, for them to fuck. She wanted Stan inside her and had frantically pulled on his arm and dragged him to the foot of the stairs.
‘Hey, what’s this?’ he had laughed as her dressing gown had fallen onto the stair’s treads and she’d felt his hands on her back then slide round onto her belly. ‘I love surprises.’
His kisses had soon been on her skin, his questing hands caressing her body in ways that relit the fire in her belly that she always felt on seeing or being close to him.
‘And I want you…want you to remind me how it went between us.’ She’d tugged frantically at his belt and pushed her questing hands under the rim of his briefs, had pushed her hips forward so that he continued to rub her sweet spot, her clit, against Stan’s fingers and only too aware of his hardening prick. She had felt it pressing against her, the man so responsive and virile, and she so wet from all that he had begun to do with her.
And then with a trick of timing, or untapped passion once more, their bodies had come together in a violent coupling. There had been no hesitation or gentleness, no prolonged preambles just the meeting of an urgent need. He had parted her pussy’s lips with that long pole of flesh and gone deep into her in a single, long, and sinuous thrust. He had stretched and then sunk further, rocked and thrust in a quickening rhythm that had her crying out in pleasure and from the early discomfort of this invasion of her body when she was not fully ready to accept him. It was the wildness of the man that she loved to know of, the absence of any finesse, and, instead, the raw lust of the man for her body.
‘Go on, be quick, and find me!’
She’d cried out in abject pleasure and had stilled her cries by pressing her lips against his chest, his throat, or shoulders as they writhed on the bed, her feet scrabbling to get some purchase on the covers so that she could give back what he wanted from her. Stan had always promised that he would never hurt her, small as she was against his bulk, but in his lack of control also lay the discovery of her pleasure.
‘Are you okay now?’ he asked, his voice softer and considerate, as he broke into the silence that had fallen between them.
‘Yes, but I’ll think of you and what we have done, again,’ she smiled wanly, moving her head as his fingers caressed her throat and she met the stilled look of his eyes upon her. ‘You needed me again, so badly, it seems.”
‘Yeah, because we have no time as we once did.’
‘That was long ago…’
‘I keep a hold of the memories, Gem’. You should know that by now.’
‘Yes, I do, and I can’t seem to let them go, though I should.’ She rose on tip toes to kiss him quickly. ‘Lock up, won’t you?’
‘What, the house or the memories?’
‘Both, now I have to go. Take care of yourself, and thanks…for everything, for being who you are to me,’ she smiled, looking at him as if it was to be for the last time, lovers taking their leave of each other. She had known, again, that she was in his blood and had been overwhelmed by his ardour almost from the moment that Stan had arrived at her door a couple of hours ago.
The front door closed silently behind her. She knew that he could not see her through the frosted glass, but she still looked back at the house, her mind possessed by what she had brazenly demanded of him a couple of days ago, and before she had washed and finally got dressed for work. Love and betrayal were such strange companions in their lives together. Then, there had been no time for what she had just shared with him, and Stan had still gotten his way.
‘Use your mouth if you’ve got no time for the rest of it,’ he had commanded, but his voice softer and hinting that it was a request of her that she should go down on him. She hadn’t done so and so the frenzy of his ways of loving had ensued.
‘You’re in my blood… and you have been in my body in ways I only find with you,’ she muttered.
Her shoes clacked on the pavement as she hurried along, her thoughts filled by what she had pursued with him. It had been so only a few days ago, when other chores had to be attended to and she had known that she could not get enough of him, given the mood they had fallen into and whenever they were alone together.
3
That first time, before the floodgates of lust had opened again, Stan had simply waited for her as she had asked of him, sat on a kitchen bar stool with his jeans and pants around his ankles and covering his work shoes, and she’d taken in the aroused state of Stan’s penis and the weight of his sac, so big and heavy. It seemed to always be so full of what she knew he could bring to her, just as he had done many times in the past. His balls shaped the wrinkled skin and she had reached for them, stroked a hand over his long, veined shaft as she rolled them in her small hands. She had never gotten used to how quickly he could be aroused, or what he brought to his loving of her, and what he had then asked her to do.
‘I…I just need to lose this, what I feel, with you,’ she had heard Stan groan and she had obliged him, had knelt on the kitchen floor between his parted legs and flickered her tongue over the tip of his penis, tasted the pre-cum on it before her tongue swirled over it and down his hairless shaft, before she took it in her mouth and sucked, then dragged her teeth gently over the underside in ways that she remembered he loved her to do.
She had marvelled, once more, at his state of arousal, had felt the veins under the skin of his shaft as she licked down to his balls, one hand then gripping the base as she put her mouth to him once more and began to suck, to bob her head as her lips and one hand worked on him. She had shivered, as always, on feeling his strength and the girth of his wonderful penis that she would suck and squeeze pleasure from, just as his ways of fucking her had taken her to places she never found with Jake.
She would do this for him, for Stan…
The devoted mother, the wife of Stan’s son, the mother of children she knew were Stan’s, had become lost in a frenzy of licking, sucking, tugging, and squeezing on that length of flesh that had found her, that had brought on shattering and wasting orgasms in quick and raging succession whenever they had been together, like moths around the flame, obsessive in their ways about what they had sought from each other.
It had been no different when she had reclaimed him days ago.
‘You’ve…you’ve brought me there, girl!’ she had heard him yell, not lowering her mouth too far over him but sucking and licking on the bulbous tip of his penis that seemed to fill her mouth with trembling throbbing flesh. She’d become lost in her world of aberrant pleasure and had felt her body and pussy spasm, the juices flow, as she felt the bolts of his semen erupt and coat the back of her throat, his hands now in her hair to keep her to him.
‘Let it all go, you darling man!’ she gagged, squeezing on his heavy scrotum as Stan jerked and yelled out in his pleasure and response to her claims upon him. Her cries of an impending orgasm were aroused by what she was doing for him, and Stan’s clamping hands on her head and body were silenced by her working on him. ‘Stan…Stan! You wonder…you have so much…still!’
She had risen to kiss him, cupped her two hands over the tip of his penis, and captured what he had still to give and to keep it off her blouse and face, felt him shudder and then fall in on himself, satisfied. For her, it had all felt as if her brain and body had been overwhelmed by the wanton pleasure that they had pursued and that she had willingly conceded to.
She had quickly cleaned herself, washed out her mouth, and said goodbye as if nothing had passed between them. At the time, she had lingered in the kitchen with him for long enough to hand Stan some kitchen tissues so that he could clean himself up. She had loved him, had felt the euphoric glow of having had control over him when he had sought to make his demands upon her. She had seen how Stan had raised his head, eyes shut, as she worked him and brought to him unconfined pleasure, a release from the torment he had again felt on being denied his ways with her.
And then, her lover had gotten on with the chores that he had set himself, a soft smile of thanks directed her way.
‘He’s obsessed with me, still, even when he has Betty to lose it all with when it gets too much to deny. I’ve got to take back control of everything, of him and my feelings, somehow.’
She had been here before with him, and she still could not bring an end to their claims upon each other. The kids, her work, and her life with Jake seemed to keep failing to fill an inexplicable void in her emotional life that going with Stan, so long ago, had first aroused in her and that there seemed to be no end to.
‘I’m where I am, and all because of you,’ she sighed and wondered when, if ever, their deceitful affair would truly be brought to an end.
♥
