Keeping a Memento

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Editor’s note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.


I have put this in the first time category but Romance would have done just as well.

Barbara and I had never been an item in the romantic sense, though at least half of the friends we had in common assumed we were. What we were was best friends who were there for eachother whenever there was a problem. We were comfortable with eachother to the point where nudity wasn’t an issue. In fact, both of us were more comfortable naked together than we had been with some of our respective lovers.

I was just back from two years working abroad and had moved into my grandparent’s home which they had left to me. My parents had and have enough money and little enough spare time that they were not interested in doing it up. I saw the project as something that they would have been proud of had they been there to see it progress.

I called Babs as she was to friends and told her I was back in town. It goes without saying that she invited herself over for a meal and by the time she would be leaving work at five, the aromas from the spicy slow cooked beef brisket in red wine were permeating the whole house. I lit the wood stove and by the time she arrived, soaking wet and cold having been caught in the freezing rain on her bicycle, it was getting almost too hot for me.

Before I had a chance to object, I was caught in a hug on the front step and soon felt almost as wet as she looked.

“I missed you James!” I gestured to the sheepskin rug in front of the fire. Babs had never been one for chairs except when eating at a table. I poured a glass of wine and brought up Dire Straits, “Brothers in Arms” at a volume that still allowed for conversation. When I turned back to hand over the wine, she was just slipping her sensible panties off, the rest of her clothes already hung on the back of a chair to dry by the stove.

“Now there is a feast for sore eyes!” I told her.

Babs laughed,

“Poor you. Is too much time in front of the computer making your eyes hurt?” Her own eyes took on a distant look for illegal bahis a moment, “You know, I still remember that night on our senior year trip. After Mrs Jones told me about my father’s death. You were asleep and I snuck into your room, undressed and crawled into your bed.

It seems so stupid now but I was shocked that you were naked, despite the fact that I was too. Almost as shocked as Mrs Jones was in the morning when she discovered us.” Babs giggled, “Some of my friends were angry thinking you took advantage of me.”

“All the boys were envious and surprised given my innocence then but would have been completely gobsmacked if they knew we didn’t do anything.”

The one thing I never told you was that I had to get myself off in the shower afterwards.”

I blushed and Barbara pressed home her advantage,

“You wanked off afterwards too didn’t you? You pervert!” But her words were without malice. I remembered that night. I remembered waking and finding my hands pressed against the soft but firm flesh of her eighteen year old breasts. I remembered trying to take my hands away and Babs pulling them back in place. Why had I never twigged that She had sexual feelings about me?

I busied myself with serving the meat and vegetables in their rich dark sauce and pouring us each another glass of wine. A recipe, never written down that I learned from my grandmother, learned through osmosis as I grew up, visiting every weekend, sometimes staying when my parents were busy. There was an easy silence as we ate, doing justice to the food, made from the finest quality ingredients but with the simplicity of good home cooking.

Afterwards, Babs returned to the rug and when I had made us each a Gaelic coffee she commanded

“Sit with me. Take your clothes off.” I did as requested. “Now cover my body in your kisses.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“No talking, just do it.”

Babs closed her eyes and I started kissing her body, choosing locations at random, an elbow, her belly, forehead, knee, the inside of a thigh, then a shoulder. I was learning every part of her body, illegal bahis siteleri memorising not just the look from close up but also the feel and taste. It was an exercise more sensual than sexual until I was asked, or perhaps told to might be more accurate given the tone of her voice,

“Will you kiss my sex.” At the time, my Right hand was gently running through her pubic hair as I thought about how I could have had this five years earlier.

I took my lips to a nipple before doing as asked and spent several minutes there before heading South. Barbara’s juices were already flowing and at times, I must admit I lapsed into enjoying the taste at times more than concentrating on giving her pleasure. That didn’t seem to matter as three times when I remembered and switched to her clitoris, she came with a shuddering climax and I was glad firstly that the house was fully detached with a good distance from the nearest neighbours and secondly that her thighs gripping my head protected my hearing.

My erection was starting to become painful so I decided that it was time to move things on. I kissed my way back up Barbara’s body until I reached her lips and as mine locked with hers I lined up my swollen head with her entrance.

She was tight, tighter than I had experienced before though given that my previous experience only amounted to two other girls perhaps that was not surprising.

“Yes!” Barbara’s exclamation confirmed that she wanted this as much as I did, “If you don’t put a bun in my oven this time we will just have to keep practising till we get it right.” The thought made me swell even further which I wouldn’t have thought possible. I pushed further and met some resistance. “Just do it! I am bored with being a virgin.” I pulled back a fraction ready to push back in. Thinking for a fraction of a second that I was chickening out she complained, “James!” And I was thrusting into her depths going boldly where no man had gone before. Barbara gasped, “Give me a minute to get used to you.”

In reality, it was probably over two minutes before I was granted permission canlı bahis siteleri to start moving again. I gently withdrew until I was just within her entrance before plunging back into the moist heat of her depths, drawing a appreciative moan. Encouraged by the reaction, I repeated the movement, again and again I don’t know how many times as I felt myself disappearing into her sky blue eyes.

I don’t remember the transition but I do remember noticing Barbara’s kisses becoming more urgent, almost aggressive as her tongue penetrated my mouth. The pace of our coupling quickened and I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer. Fortunately I was not the only one whose climax was approaching with all the subtlety of an express train.

“put a baby in me James!”

That was all it took. Over a week when I had been so busy that not even my right hand had provided any relief was over as I attempted to do the impossible and actually fill the whole of Barbara’s insides with my seed and as fast as I was pumping it her vagina contracting around me was trying to suck it out of me.

As my breathing finally started to return to normal I felt the last squeezes of her Kegel muscles around my now soft and shrunken member.

To prevent it getting too dirty, that sheepskin now lies on our bed with a new one that looks older next to the fire. It was almost ten years after these events that I heard our nine year old daughter Katie ask,

“Mummy I think someone bled on that sheepskin?”

“I think you are probably right darling.”

And another ten years after that, seven years after Barbara was killed by a drunk driver a now very grown up Katie who was the spitting image of her mother when we first slept together in innocence asked me,

“Did you and mum make love during her rag on there?”

“No beautiful.” I tried and failed to keep the tears from my eyes as I answered, “Not while she was menstruating.” Bringing up a teenage daughter had rid me of any embarrassment I might have started off with about all things menstrual.

Katie looked at me and when I looked in her blue eyes, just a fraction darker than her mother’s I found myself remembering that evening and became aware of a painful tent in my trousers.

“You took her cherry on it didn’t you?” I nodded, hoping she wasn’t noticing my arousal. “Will you take mine on it too?

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