Early morning Norfolk sunshine streamed through the curtains, waking Brian as it did so. It was the Spring Bank Holiday Monday at the last day of his stay with Anne's parents before heading back to Cambridge to resume his studies. One could say it had been an interesting weekend -- 'interesting' that is in the sense of the old Chinese proverb! Anne's mother, merciless and unsparing in her use of the acid tongue had been terrifying, in fact more than terrifying. He wasn't sure which was worse; what she said or the withering upper class way in which she said it. Her way with words certainly didn't lack ingenuity but, as a son-in-law to be, he wished she'd put it to a kindlier use.
That he would incur Elizabeth Glenning's wrath today was scarcely in doubt. He'd woken up briefly three hours earlier, conscious of a warm wetness between his legs. Only an occasional bed-wetter, he'd assured Mrs Glenning upon his arrival on Friday that he'd didn't normally wet the bed. As it was, he'd wet the bed every night since -- much to her annoyance and his own embarrassment. Every night had been the same, the culmination of a dream in which he'd been desperate to pee and frantically searching for an all too elusive urinal.
Anne hadn't helped particularly either. On both Saturday and Sunday she'd taken him on long sightseeing trips round Norfolk, plying him with drinks and not letting him go to the toilet. On Saturday night he'd been nearly pissing himself as she drove back from Cromer and had begun to spurt in his pants the moment they got back. It wasn't that she wanted to be cruel as such. Oh no, she just wanted to introduce him to the delights of holding. Not trained to hold beyond the three or four hours necessary for most people's convenience, Brian didn't understand Anne's fascination with pee holding and he certainly couldn't match the capabilities of her cavernous bladder. He had, however, been eager to please. Although it was strictly off limits in the parental home, she'd offered him the carrot of as much sex as he wanted once they got back to Cambridge and, with it, a promise to act out any fantasy he might have. With such an inducement on offer he'd been hard pressed to resist her demands. Moreover he'd obeyed Mrs Glenning's orders and dutifully proposed to Anne. She, just as dutifully, had accepted. No longer a mere boyfriend but her fiancé instead, he was now well and truly under the thumb.
Still, whatever lingering doubts lurked in the back of his mind, Brian loved Anne deeply. In his view at least she was by far the prettiest girl in King's and could turn heads easily. Knowing she was in a nearby bedroom and yet unavailable to him under the parental roof, frustrated Brian enormously. Throwing back the duvet and ignoring the wetness of his sheets, Brian reached for his cock. He was completely naked and it was whilst nude that he loved to masturbate most. Five inches round but seven and a half long when flaccid, his penis could extend to nearly eleven inches when fully erect and he intended to take it to its full height as he fantasised about Anne and her promise of unlimited sex on their return to college. Stroking the shaft of his penis with all the gusto of the twenty year old that he was, Brian soon found himself hardening. Gasping and moaning with pleasure he quickly reached the point of no return and began to ejaculate, a large spurt of cum shooting from his swollen tail and landing on the bedclothes. As it spurted out there was a knock on the door and, before he had time to reply, in walked the formidable Mrs Glenning, Anne's mother. Embarrassed but unable to stop himself, Brian felt a sense of blind panic as a further spurt involuntarily shot out of his swollen member, this time missing the bedclothes and hitting Elizabeth Glenning's knee length skirt.
Momentarily lost for speech, Brian's throat went dry and he could only begin to imagine how she might react. Her face, black as thunder, said it all though. Clearly she was not amused and neither was she lost for words either.
"And what's the meaning of this?", she angrily demanded, fixing an icy glare on Brian's swollen penis, dripping with cum. Removing his hands from a sticky cock, Brian looked up at his hostess in a panic stricken daze.
"I'm sorry Mrs Glenning."
Elizabeth glared angrily at him.
"Sorry? Sorry doesn't go near it. Of course you're not sorry. Not only do you affront my senses with the sorry spectacle of nudity but you abuse my hospitality by masturbating all over my clean sheets. It's a filthy, weak habit, that breeds feebleness of body and mind. When I was young they used to call it self abuse and quite right too. Necessary though it is, you needn't think it pleases me that my daughter's marrying a man who can't leave his penis alone, because it doesn't. I bet you love it more than you love her, don't you?"
Rubbing cum from his hands and transferring it to his right thigh, Brian went on the defensive.
"Mrs Glenning, I love Anne very much. It's just that I've always been told that wanking -- sorry masturbation -- is no big deal. I wasn't expecting you either."
Elizabeth retrieved a tissue and wiped where Brian's cum had landed on her skirt, before throwing the spent tissue in the waste paper basket.
