The following are extracts of my erotica novella "The Blue Flowers of Trouble and Desire. I've condensed them and left off a previous chapter of backstory but I welcome any feedback (good or bad) to improve my writing. I will endeavour to publish one part per week. Please enjoy.
It's not often you get a butterfly of excitement about going to work, but the following morning my heart was pounding with expectation. I whipped through Mrs Quinn's place and Mrs Rutherford got the once-over-lightly.
I looked at my watch. 9.35am.
In a deep breath I opened the door to number 3.
"Hello?"
Impatience jumped me. I went straight into her bathroom and opened the lid of the bin.
They were lying on the top as if waiting for me. Blue petals spread round the white stigma with its light yellow stain. I picked it as I would a flower and the inhaled its sweet heady aroma. I didn't want to rush the experience so I gently placed it back in the bin as if it was something precious and valuable. I'd decided to do the rest of the chores and savour it last. I gave the kitchen bench a vigorous wipe and rushed the vacuum over the carpet. I went back into the bathroom and lifted them out of the bin. I stood there in front of her mirror and held it close to my nose. I soaked up the scents and let my nose brush across it. It was delicious. I could feel that tingle in my groin and the swelling of an impending hard-on. I stayed there for about five minutes enjoying the delectable delight. I let my cock get hard but didn't touch myself. I just let it enjoy the moment with me.
Time was up I thought and almost with a tinge of sadness put them into the liner and took it out to my cart outside the door.
I didn't hear a thing Mrs Jackson said to me as I cleaned her cottage with my head in a fog of desire.
As I pushed the cart back up to the main building I noticed Mrs Prendergast coming back down. My face felt crimson.
"Morning Emjay" she chirped as she went past.
"Morning."
I checked the time. 9.55am.
The next day I felt a little braver. I now knew the window of opportunity I had to enjoy myself.
I swept through my chores finishing with the bathroom and approached the bin.
This time I took her blue flower and sat on the edge of her bed.
I pushed my face into it. I licked it. I stroked the pillow I knew she was lying on only an hour ago.
I absorbed its succulence and let my cock grow hard. The taste of heaven lingered in my nose the way smells do. I swear I it was still there when I got home and satisfied my dream.
Day four and it felt like an illicit affair.
I inhaled deeply.
What was happening?
I had no particular 'bents'. I liked women my own age. I didn't have a thing for older women. I fancied my french teacher when I was 15 but she must have only been about 30. Certainly not
old
women. I hadn't had a thing about women's underwear or some desire to pinch them off washing lines yet here I was sitting on the edge of a bed, with a cock as hard as a rock, savouring the pee and perfume of a sixty-four year old woman.
It was Friday morning and I'd made good progress at Mrs Quinn's and Mrs Rutherford's.
I checked the time. It was right on 9.30 when I stepped up to Mrs Prendergast's door. On cue she stepped out onto her porch.
"Oh, good morning Emjay," she said, " You're early today."
"Oh yes, Mrs Prendergast" I replied, "I'm hoping to get off early."
Secretly I had something else in mind. I wanted to take our 'relationship' a little further.
I'll admit I felt a little ashamed at my plan but I just felt I had to. The lust in me had been building up all week. If I happened across Mrs Prendergast during they day it would be a struggle not to look at her crotch and wonder what beauty lay under that breezy skirt. My job was menial but I couldn't concentrate on the simplest of tasks without fantasising. Maybe it was because it was too menial that my mind could wander into a daydream of longing and desire.
So I did all my usual tasks but this time left the bed unmade but closed the curtains .
I went and retrieved the previous nights panties and laid it down next to the pillow.
Stepping over to her dresser I surveyed my options. I opened a hand cream and squirted a little dab on my finger. It was quite thick and I thought that might do. I tried the second which had less perfume and thought that might be better. For good measure I thought I'd just check the body lotion. It felt smoother, sexier and it had a soft subtle aroma, a mix of lavender and honey.
Yes, I thought, this'll be perfect. I took the bottle and placed it by an old-fashioned lamp on her bedside table. I slipped off my work pants and my boxer shorts. Pulled my tunic off over my head and naked, lay down on her bed, my head on her pillow. I pushed the top of the lotion till I had a good glob in my right hand and reached down and smeared it down to the base of my penis. I smoothed it up and down and around the tip. With my left hand I placed her panties on the pillow right where her head would have been. I drew in the aroma. The strong scent of pee. It wafted with the Yves Saint Laurent up my nostrils. It mixed with more smells, her hairspray on the pillow, her body on the sheets. I stroked up and down my cock, my right hand on the shaft and the left caressing my balls, I was arching my back and pushing my hips into my hands like I was having full-on sex with Mrs Prendergast. Sex with her smell. I grabbed the panties and pushed them in my face while thrusting my hips. I felt the convulsions start and I sat up with my legs apart to tuck her blue flower under my cock and balls in time for my hot semen to spurt and ejaculate into them, it spilt down the elastic and the seams, it squirted onto the yellow stain, a finishing stream oozed down to where her anus would have rested.
In that moment that was the hottest sexual experience I thought I could have...by myself.
To be honest I was relieved that the weekend had rolled around. I needed to take stock of myself. Get a grip on reality. I went to the supermarket on Saturday morning and added a half dozen beers for the afternoon. I sculled them back on the front step of a small and ridiculously cheap apartment I'd secured just up the street from Billy's. In the shade of a big oak tree I did my best to drink away my thoughts. Mrs Prendergast kept looming back. Sometimes in her blue panties, sometimes naked. When my imagination had her bent over her couch and asking me to come in from behind her, I gave up trying.
I showered and called Billy to see if he wanted to shoot some pool at Big Joe's. It was a sports bar by the highway on the edge of town. It had a long bar down one wall, the other was lined with cubicles, each with a big screen showing live sport and half a dozen pool tables filled the space in between. We met up at six and waited till a table came free. I broke first, the balls clattered and I landed a small one in the pocket.
"Hey Billy," I asked as I lined up a second shot, "You ever fancied older women?"
"Yvonne's pretty hot."
Yvonne worked behind the bar at Big Joe's. In fact Yvonne was Big Joe in that she owned and ran the place and she had the most simple effective marketing strategy. She wore a top a size too small for her generous breasts and when she turned to reach up to the liquor rack the eye of every guy at the bar would trace the shape of the tight blue jeans down to the tall dark boots. I doubt Yvonne was even aware of it, other than she sold a lot of liquor. But she would have been 40 years old, maybe 45 at most.
I potted the second ball.
"Nah, I mean older women," Ka-plock, another ball went in. "I mean, you know, like your mums age or older."
"Nah" he replied "Ive checked out a few milfs on pornhub or whatever but I like em young. Well you know not like real young, that's fucked. Teens. Shaven havens."
"Shaven what?"
I missed my next shot.
"Havens, chicks with no pubes, shaven havens." He finally sunk his first ball. "Kinda funny how those sites figure out what you like and offer up more. Mind you Sheree would give me shit if she caught me. Its kinda weird she used to like a bit of porn herself but since she got pregnant she thinks it's
unseemly.
"
He missed his shot. I lined up my next.
"Unseemly?"
"Yeah thats what she says....
unseemly...
as if somehow our unborn kid is going to notice and get freaked out by it."
I sunk the number six ball while Billy rested on his cue.
"Hey wait a minute," he piped, "You thinkin' of getting it on with one of the oldies up at the rest home?" I felt that crimson flush in my face and hoped the low light in the bar wouldn't give me away. I did think a flat out denial would.
"Yeah," I laughed, "Theres some real hotties up there."
