Andy

A two-part sensuous slow-build up romance set in New Zealand; the hero is American and the heroine is a Kiwi who returns to her homeland to settle down. At the same time Any finds other women with a more enthusiastic interest in him.

Heavy clouds darkened the cemetery but it remained dry during the burial service, not that many would have soaked up rain as in attendance were the clergyman, Andy King, four women who'd been his mom's friends and standing a little distance away were the burial attendants.

The short, sharp and formal graveside service – appropriately reflecting the statue and manner of his mom thought Andy (Andrew) – concluded and he spent a few moments alone with her, staring at the white lacquered box. Then that was it. For Sylvia a long life and a very short ending.

What now? He had nothing planned as his mom's death had been sudden so he'd boarded a flight and rushed to make his final farewell, planning to be away from his work in Chicago for two weeks without thinking out a schedule. He had no relatives but he'd been to New Zealand to see his mom several times so wasn't exactly a stranger. Sylvia King first went to New Zealand fifteen years to visit her Chicago-based publishing house agents in Wellington and Auckland where she had an affair with the agency's chief executive, a divorcee. Returning home Sylvia arranged her divorce and returned to Auckland, offering to take Andy, then thirteen, with her but he chose to stay with his father Clive King who ran a small law firm. Sylvia's second husband Harry Stokes had died in a small airplane crash three years ago.

At the cemetery gates Andy found Lucy Shields the most outgoing of his mother's friends waiting for him.

"I've waited to drive you somewhere," Lucy said. "Anywhere you wish."

Andy smiled. She'd always made a fuss of him when they'd met during his three previous visits. Her husband Jerry was a magazine executive. They had two children – Gavin a scientist who worked on a research project in Antarctica, coming home for three weeks twice a year and Shannon who'd been completing her education in Europe whenever he visited his mother in Auckland. He accepted Lucy's offer and said could she take him to a hotel.

"Which one?"

"Any one,"

"So you have not booked in?"

"No, I arrived only two hours before the burial. I'd spent two days with friends on Waiheke Island to recover from jet lag."

Lucy took him by the arm. "Then you are coming home with me. Jerry and I will love to have you as our guest– stay as long as you wish. Where's your luggage?"

"In safe custody at the ferry terminal."

"Oh, you poor darling; all alone in a foreign country. You definitely are staying with us."

Andy had expected Lucy would drive a Japanese or European SUV like many well-heeled women he'd already noticed but no, the only car in the parking lot made him gape. "My God, you drive a '57 fuel injected Corvette Roadster."

"Yes, it's my baby; I purchased it from my brother-in-law who is a collector and was offered a '56 model so out went the later version. I also have a Japanese mini car for shopping. You may have the Corvette while you are my guest. Here, take the keys – I assume you have driven in this country on prior visits?"

"Yes, extensively."

Lucy beamed. "I was so pleased you were able to recognize my car. The few Americans I know now living in this country have asked me "What is it?" when they see my car for the first time."

Andy said his favorite recreational reading was classic performance cars.

"Not girlie magazines?"

"Only when between girlfriends?"

"Are you in that status at present?"

"Yes."

"Good, Shannon is not going steady at present and arrives home permanently in two weeks; I'll have to get you two together."

"Lucy, please – I don't wish to embarrass your daughter."

The youngest of his mother's friends squeezed Andy's arm and smiled,

* * *

Lucy had carnal thoughts looking at Andy. She was not above having it off with a male who took her fancy – her only rule was she must know him. That's why she'd been seduced by most of her friend's husbands and apart from Walter Carter she was satisfied husband Jerry more than kept his end up, so to speak. Until now, Walter was the youngest male under her age to attend to her sex swings – an age difference of four years. Her stomach tightened as she thought about the possibility of seducing her unexpected house guest – an age difference of exactly twenty years.

Lucy, who had sex-need swings rather than the mood swings of other women, had a rush of imagines flit through her mind and felt hot and her breath began racing. She touched Andy's hand on the wheel and said huskily, "You drive this baby so well. It's...it's..." She stopped.

Andy turned, his white teeth flashing and a smile that reached her soul. "What is it: have you had a memory lapse or were about to say something naughty?"

Oh God, how could he read her mind so accurately?

"I have a great memory," she said, aware that her pussy was twitching which probably meant she had wet her panties a little.

"Argh, so a naughty thought was it?" he said, glancing deep into her eyes. She noticed his eyes were an intense mid-blue that suited his blonde, close cropped hair.

Her grip on his arm tightened; he grinned and told her to tell him, holding nothing back.

"You are embarrassing me; watching your hands caressing that wheel made me think of them traveling over my skin." She closed her eyes waiting for the dismissive laugh. Instead there was silence. She opened her eyes to find him ending a thoughtful glance at her before he resumed watching the road. Her pulse-rate accelerated; while she'd read nothing in his face the fact he'd looked thoughtful was something – not much but better than being ignored or even worse projecting a sneer in answer to her audacious comment.

They traveled chatting quietly, diverting to the city centre to pick up his two soft carry bags before taking the southern motorway to the metropolitan rural fringe area of Karaka – a Maori name of a berry tree endemic to New Zealand and the Kermadec and Chatham Islands.

Jerry arrived home just after Andy and Lucy at 4:30 and the two men related over a cup of coffee and meat sandwiches.

"Do you ride?" Jerry asked. Andy had noticed the horses so knew his host wasn't meaning bicycles or ATVs (all terrain vehicles).

"Well enough to stay on."

"Good, come with me," the hobby farmer said. "I breed horses but most of the land is occupied by grape vines grown for a local winemaker who cares for them as part of the contact. Each evening I ride to look at my ten mares and off-spring and ride the two access tracks through the vineyard with part proprietorial interest. Following this ritual allows the trauma of the day in the city to seep out of me."

Lucy sat on the veranda watching the two men ride back in to the barn while she stroked the inside of a thigh softly, thinking of the pounding she'd receive later that evening from her husband who appeared to be in a very good mood; in the morning she'd made a play for her guest.

During the very leisurely dinner of casseroled meat, roast vegetables and beans and peas picked fresh from the homestead's garden followed by rhubarb tart and thick cream – the best cream Andy announced he'd ever tasted, Lucy allowed her lower leg to touch Andy's leg. He pulled away but she was satisfied because he pulled away unhurriedly and he'd glanced at her with a slight grin, making her think she was in with a chance. After all, she was a fading beauty, full-breasted with a gym and horse-riding trimmed body; her firm ass for her age seemed to attract the attention of men so why should Andy be any different? If he ignored the signs of an ageing skin he could easily imagine he was fucking a woman of his age. At least she hoped he'd think like that.

It was mid-summer with still signs of daylight in the sky when Jerry announced at 9:30 he was off to bed. He said to Andy he'd leave for work at 5:45 to beat the traffic build-up. His working hours at the magazine were officially 7:00 to 3:30 but he started earlier and mostly managed to slip from the city centre by 3:45 to beat increasing traffic congestion. As Jerry walked from the room Lucy stretched and yawned, giving Andy the opportunity of seeing what she carried on her chest but didn't look at him to ensure he focused properly. She then walked to him as he stood up and said he'd have an early night.

"I'm sorry about your mother," Lucy said. "She was one of my best friends." She then kissed Andy on the lips lightly and ran her fingers through the back of his hair. "Sylvia lives on through the lovely man who is her son."

Andy's sigh was deep and prologue so Lucy drew him down and kissed his forehead. He showed no inclination to respond in any way but she knew her warmth and gentle actions would have reached to his core.

"Off you go," she said. "I'll clear these coffee cups and put the dishwasher on."

Andy said good night and thanked her for being such a warm and charming hostess. "I'm sad about mom's death but really don't miss her – we've been parted for such a long time."

House-proud Lucy fussed around with the dishes and straightened pillows. When she passed the guestroom she noted Andy's door was ajar and the bed reading light was on; she'd left a pile of Jerry's girlie magazines on his bedside cabinet with a horse sale catalogue on top of them.

"Better shut the door love; I'm horny," Jerry said, throwing back the blankets so she could see what he was stroking.

"Oh yummy," she grinned. "The door's okay – his door is shut and the light is off; the poor guy will be exhausted." As they sweated into climax Lucy was a little louder than usual to ensure Andy heard enough to have a clear idea what was going on; she didn't want him thinking perhaps at her age she was sexually inactive. In the shower as she washed away sweat and the mix of drying juices she leaned against the wall, massaging her left breast, pretending the hand at work was Andy's. She returned to bed aroused but found Jerry was already asleep. She smiled: the encores would keep.

* * *

In Boston well before dawn, Shannon Shields lay on top of her bed knees bent and wide apart, working a viabrator up the side of her inner thigh and tensing as it headed to circle her clit before being pushed into her well-ready vagina. Shannon only referred to it as her pussy when in the company of a randy male.

Ah males, she sighed. They had been rare to snare in Boston compared with London and France. The American men she'd come across were not impressed by her small boobs and those she'd aroused seem to go off the ball quickly when they found she was not into ass-fucking. Walking away from the car or bed with a sore ass was not her idea of glorious sex so more often than not her friend the viabrator gave her the ultimate in satisfaction when she sought release.

Shannon's two-year contract for post-graduate experience in international law had ended and she would spend twelve days zigzagging across America in short hops by airplane before flying home to Auckland from Los Angeles.

As the slim jelly vibrator slid into her depths she thought about her mother's new man described in an email she'd read before going to bed the previous evening. Thinking about him had made her reach for her best friend after being awoken by police car sirens and being unable to return to sleep. She thought it unlikely her mom would be fucking this guy twenty years younger but she was likely to try. So what if she did score with him – he mom couldn't help being over-sexed whereas Shannon found it so difficult to be turned on by any man. Perhaps this guy could be the one, provided her mom would hand him across; he was to travel up north but her mom had asked him to return in time to be at the airport with them to meet Shannon. Now why would her mom want him to do that? The thought of why she would want that made Shannon spasm into an unexpectedly early ejaculation.

"Oh God," the twenty-five year old sighed fantasizing, "I'm in emerging love with him already, sight unseen."

* * *

As the sound of Jerry's SUV faded into the distance Lucy sprayed a very delicate perfume over her arms, breasts and neck and sprayed a stronger one over her pussy. She only thought of it as her cunt and called it that when receiving the attention of a randy male. After pulling down her sleeping t-shirt she went almost soundless to the guest-room with the low post-dawn sunglow streaming into the bedroom. She'd wondered about how to launch a successful approach; as she entered the room her mind was in turmoil with half a dozen options spinning around in her head.

But once inside her mind snapped into attack mode; it was ready and waiting for her. Andy was on his back, holding one of the erotic magazines in one hand and the other hand encircled his morning erection, tugging it gently. Surprised, he looked at Lucy and his hand dropped away from his erection.

"Um, good morning," he managed, struggling to smile.

Without bothering to smile Lucy dropped between his legs and began licking the cockhead, urging herself not to say anything, not to look at him until she had some response.

It was like sucking the head of a frozen eel: rigid and cool.

She dropped her mouth over it, not touching him with her hands and dribbled on to it.

Nothing.

Lucy slowly licked her dribble down the far side of his length and smiled when she heard a definite sigh. She closed her mouth over a testicle and rolled it with her tongue to hear him suck in breath heavily and expel while one of his hands grabbed a fistful of hair – either to jerk her away while he berated her or to pull her head up as an unspoken invitation to begin sucking him off.

She froze.

Gently he applied pressure, urging her head up a few inches, quite a few inches in fact. She fell upon the cock he was holding for her and wondered how long she'd have to wait until a hand came seeking her nipple. Scarcely had she finished that thought when a nipple was being tweaked.

Good boy.

She looked up at him: "You may have this wake-up call every morning if you wish."

She watched his eyes widen and heard him say "Right'. She took him fully into her mouth and the tweak on her nipple felt as if it were cutting the rubbery breast ending into two.

Thirty seconds later she felt his enormous power as he lifted her by the hips to spin her around while she applied extra on-off suction to ensure his erection remained in her mouth while being rotated. She felt him lick her hair twice to part it and then his tongue entered her cunt. She grunted twice and one of his fingers entered over the top of his tongue then a second one and his thumb began circling her clit as if the nub wasn't there. Oooh, was this guy good.

Lucy showered, dressed and prepared a hearty breakfast. She sat opposite him, having her dried toast and coffee.

"Pull your tits out for me."

"Why?"

"Because they are a pair of beauties, no sign of ageing expect where some of the lines come down a bit from your neck."

She pouted. "When will you fuck me?"

"How would tomorrow morning suit?"

She smiled slyly, removed her shirt and bra and sat back holding up the twin objects of his fascination and squashed them together, staring at his roving eyes watching her nipples physically activate. Lucy was so pleased he hadn't said brutally 'As soon as I've finished breakfast and been to the toilet'; instead 'How would tomorrow morning suit' had made her pussy tremble in anticipation.

"Tomorrow morning, repeatedly, would suit me lovely," she simpered, knowing she had twenty-four hours to think about coming all over that great dick of his buried inside her. Olay!

* * *

Shannon pushed one trolley and pulled another as she emerged from the security area into the airport concourse. She spotted her parents instantly with this guy; they were talking so she had almost thirty seconds to inspect them. He father looked exactly the same, good-looking with a beer-belly, balding and his face etched a little from over-work. The house guest standing beside him – this Andy – stood a good four inches taller than her father who was almost six foot. He was blonde, presumably with the inevitable blue eyes, wide shoulders that narrowed down to his hips which suggested a great ass and he looked muscular. Her mom had stated in one of her emails 'Very much an athletic male."

Eying her mom Shannon boggled. Lucy had stayed with her in Boston for a fortnight thirteen months ago and had looked good – but not this good; she positively radiated health, was slimmed down and appeared vivacious. Obviously she was being fucked twice a day – daddy at night and Mr Big Dick after daddy left for work. He mom was thriving on it and was dressed like a woman ten years her junior – showing a red bra top across the V of her shirtfront and the matching red of a half-slip a half-inch below her skirt hemline. A hand tightened over her heart: Shannon felt vaguely like throttling her mother and squeezing the guest's nuts flat in the workshop vise. She had the sense to know she was overcome with jealously.

Her father glanced up, saw her and his face was seized by a brilliant smile. Oh daddy, Shannon heart cried, my cuckolded daddy. He called to Lucy and the joy that showed on her face melted Shannon's heart telling her that naughty mom of hers was forgiven. Shannon was two preoccupied to notice the reaction of the house guest; anyway he'd only notice with disappointment her rather flat chest.

The reunited family greeted rapturously.

Shannon ignored her mother the first time Lucy said, "Shannon, I'd like you to meet our house guest Andy King." But she did notice when the big oaf reached out to greet her; he steadied himself in the crush around him by circling her mom with an arm and cupping her left breast for heaven's sake, with her daddy standing on that side of her mom! Shannon glared at her mom who pretended not to notice; she was busy trying to discreetly pull The Beast's hand from her boob.

"How are the horses daddy?" Shannon asked and was told the three colts and five fillies left were doing fine as were the older horses. "Jenna aborted close to time and the O'Hagan's took a colt early to mother-on as one of their colts had died."

Her mom was at her again: Shannon, I'd like you to meet our house guest Andy King."

Oh hullo Andy, I gather you are fucking my mom. Well, that's what she wanted to say and then to demand Why? Instead she almost acted politely and said, "Hello Andy; my mom's told me everything about you."

He swallowed and flushed, coloring almost as heavily as her mom. Her father, dammit, missed this as he was staring at a teenager no more than eighteen, adjusting her self hold-up stocking; his tongue was hanging out the side of his mouth, such was his concentration.

"Hello Shannon. God, you are beautiful." Now who was blushing! He held out his hand but as he was not touching her mom this time Shannon thrust her head forward and his lips landed on hers like butterflies. That surprised her and so did his lovely clean breath – no suggestion of her mom's perfume, bottled or secreted. He deserved a plus mark for that courtesy to the daughter.

Now her father was at it. He said proudly, "Andy can handle Gigi – he's managed to quiet her down so much that your mom has even ridden her as well."

Close to tears Shannon turned ready to tear into the house guest and only just in time heard her father say, "He has a special way with horses."

He mother, standing with her arm through Shannon's, had distinctly whispered, 'And with women'. Ignoring her mom for the moment Shannon eyed Andy without expression. "So her spirit is not broken."

"Good heavens no; it's an essential part of her character. My Uncle Ben is a professional horse trainer – or Horse Whisperer as they are called since the Robert Redford movie. Since turning eight I've spent at least two weeks of every summer, often all summer, on his ranch with Aunt Marg and gradually he began my induction."