Own editing done, so if the odd error triggers you, move on.
This is my first story in quite a while. It's an experiment of sorts, to see if I can write anything of any substance. Like all of my favourite work of my own, this is based on a real human being with a story built on a fleeting thought.
Be prepared, it's slow-burn, bittersweet and some may say vanilla. But I hope you enjoy.
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I was in a daze, Mum had only been dead 24 hours when the doorbell rings on my family home's front door. Dad was in the shed, busying himself with his motorcycle, so it was I who opened the door to see a shoulder blade length mane of blonde coloured hair, flowing down the back of a lithe, trim body that I strangely recognise.
She turns from her gaze down the leafy suburban setting of my parents humble abode, and as her eyes meet mine, she smiles. "Cassandra," I grin, recognising the pretty faced blonde immediately, as the mother of my best schoolfriend, Wesley. He and I had been thick as thieves in our teens, living in and out of each other's houses all summer long.
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The 1990s
Every group of teenage mates has that one friend who's unlucky enough to have the hot Mom, and Wesley drew the short straw with many's a conversation, about Cassandra over the years, ending up the same way. It would be a comment, an innocent schoolboy musing about her, 'Finest Attributes,' which were truly huge, to us.
In actual fact, she was just quite small, and her thin, but motherly figure just made her tits look huge, a fact that she used to her advantage quite well. We all were jealous of David, her husband. He was a nice guy, always welcoming me into his home to the point where I had my own key to get in, but as to how the straight laced Policeman got with the free-spirited Cassandra, none of us could quite understand.
She was always different to the other Mums, wearing floaty gowns and summer dresses, where the norm was 1990s blouses and skirts, like one was going for an interview. Her husband was like that, always in a shirt or a turtleneck pullover in the winter. But they were so clearly in love, always holding hands and stealing glances at one and other at outdoor parties, Christmas get-togethers, and if I was lucky, I'd get to go home with Wesley and hear her having sex.
Wesley was famous for always falling asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. I'd lay there, listening to the gentle thuds of headboard against wall, imagining Cassandra on her back, getting thrust into, sucked and fucked. I was too scared to go and listen at their door, how would I explain that if my friend woke up, so I would lay there and save the memories, for later!
Typically, she would cook us breakfast the next morning, usually singing Abba songs, and I'd smile politely at her as she served our food, whilst wearing a housecoat over her just showered body. She knew what she was doing, teasing a horny little idiot like me, with her free-swaying breasts wobbling about, perfectly covered by her, usually yellow coloured, robe. There was no cleavage, she was classy but sexy, alluring, desirable and perfect....oh dear God, yes.
My high school girlfriend, incidentally now my wife, Sophie, even joked about the way I/we all looked at Cassandra. Sophie and I were 15 when we got together one summer, and were good little school kids, right up until the night that established us as ex-virgins, both now at the all-embracing age of 18, of course.
It was the morning and 2 condoms later since that tender defloration, that Sophie and I first made our silly pact. Calming down from our recent orgasms, she panted, "I've never felt anything like this!"
I hugged her close, stroking her hair and openly running my hand over her well sucked breasts when she asked, "Will I do?"
Confused, I ask her what she meant and kissed the top of her head. "Just, you know. You all like MILFS with big, wobbly boobs and mine....."
"Are perfect," I interrupted, stroking the still engorged pink nipple that had been in my mouth just minutes earlier, as I filled the condom as my resolve let go. I then added, "Will I do?"
She has always liked to joke and tease me, so it's no surprise when she said, "You're good practice. I'll tag along with you until Robbie from Take That comes and takes me away!"
Flipping us over, I lay on top of her, pinning her arms with one hand whilst I tickled her sides with the other, recounting her, "Tag along with me, eh?" comment.
"Stop, MERCY! Stop tickling me," she squealed, as she writhed beneath me as my fingers torture her and my mind still adjusted to the fact that I was allowed to touch her naked skin.
I ceased my assault and gazed at her eyes, kissing her tender lips as I say, "Ok, I'll do you a deal. If Robbie and you meet and he wants some of this," I say, sucking her right tit, "You have my permission to spread your legs for him."
"Ooooh, I'll hold you to that!" She gushed, squeezing me with her legs crossed over my lower back. "And who might yours be, Wesley's Mum? Haha!"
My look must have changed to that of a small boy, caught with his hands in the cookie jar. With no point in denying it, "You're on, if Robbie or Cassandra knock on our door, we both get a 1-time pass."
"Aaaw come on," she says, squeezing me with her thighs. "I'll want much more than just one time with Robbie! I'd ride that thing right off him!" We eventually, immaturely agree that we each can have a complete fuck-fest with our chosen, 'Cheat Pass,' subjects.
I know what you're thinking, dear reader, that hers was a lot less likely than mine. I don't think you fully understand just how young and skinny I was, and just how smoking hot Cassandra was. Sophie had much more of a chance with Robbie Williams, back then, and it became a running joke within our circle of friends, and even brought up at our wedding during Wesley's Best Man's speech, with a heckler suggesting that I could have been his step-dad by now. My look to Cassandra and her smiling husband, made me realise that they knew the details of my pact, too.
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Present day
As she turns to me, her smile says hello before the thin face forms the words, "Hi Lee, it's nice to see you. I'm so very sorry about your Mum."
Now awestruck, I just couldn't believe it was her as, where I had changed vastly in the past 30 years, she looks the same. Sure, her face is thinner, the curves are less pronounced but in her yellow summer dress, she doesn't even look a minute older.
Gathering my mouth up, I invite her in as my wife pulls up in her car. Now all inside, Sophie, my wife, gets my Dad, who greets Cassandra with a smile and a warm hug from whom he still calls, Mrs White.
Sophie makes tea with cake and biscuits from the generous selection that people had brought the night before. Cassandra then asks how Mum had passed, and I tell her that she slipped away quietly in hospital, surrounded by her loving family.
Dad asks Cassandra about the health of her and her husband, and I'm dumbstruck when she tells us that they're doing very well, both blessed with good health at his 76 years, and her 71.
I almost spit my tea out at the news that deep down, I already knew. This woman is 30 years older than me, and she still looks like THAT!
We chat about her son, our common interest, and he's doing well. We only see each other a few times a year now, he's a busy guy, managing a major USA bank. She's very proud of him and his family of a wife, 2 boys and a girl, but misses him daily, "All the way across the pond."
My own son then arrives on his motorbike, and I introduce him to my old friend's Mum as Cassandra says she'll leave us in peace. It's only then that we both look outside and see that the rain has begun.
"Where's your car?" I ask, and she runs her hands up and down her bare arms, having just a little denim jacket to put on to shield her.
"I don't drive much now. I walked here as the weather said it was to stay dry," she smiles, "A little rain never killed anyone."
Whilst looking at her smiling eyes, I shake my head and tell her of the decision I had made in my head, "No, I'll drive you home."
She protests, but when I tell her, "Look, you and David have driven me far enough over the years, I'll call your son and he'll tell you off," and she raises her eyebrows and glares at me.
"Get you, I keep forget that you're a big man now," she smiles, "You know, it only seems like yesterday you were playing football in my back garden," as memories of her soaking up the sun in their garden floods my brain, or her wearing her gardening clothes, a pair of old jeans and a low-cut, green tank top.
As she speaks, she grabs her jacket, as I grab my keys and shout to tell Sophie that I'm going to give Cassandra a lift.
My parents' house has two steps down from it, and I instinctively put my arm out to help her down. It's not sexual, not leading to it being sexual, just helping a lady who's quite frail, down a few steps before she makes eye contact in thanks. Then she puts her jacket over her head, in hope of keeping her hair dry and I gently put my hand on her slim side, to help guide her up the driveway to my car.
Opening the door for her, I help her into the car by standing behind her, gently gripping her by the hip to assist into my high-sitting 4 X 4.
"Oh!" she squeaks, "You don't know your own strength, young man," her ever-playful voice informs me.
"Just making sure you don't fall out, I have to look after my mate's old Mum," I smile, as I reach her the seat belt and close the door. I notice that she holds my gaze as I let go of the heavy door, crossing the small distance to the drivers side, and climb in.
As we drive, chat about the good old days and she brings up an event I thought her son and I had gotten away with. I had carried her drunken son home, all the way from the pub in the local town where we had been officially drinking as adults, for the first time. Wesley was 5 days older than me, and we had celebrated the weekend before with all of our friends.
"I remember proudly telling the barman that night, that we were celebrating our birthdays," I tell Cassandra, who's smiling warmly. "When he asked what age we were and I told him we were both 18, he cocked his eyebrows at me, stopped pouring our beers and said, "Lee, you two have been drinking in here for over a year,""
Laughing at my story, Cassandra places her hand on mine as it rests on the automatic gearshift, and with a gentle squeeze she says, "You were a very cheeky couple of boys, I remember how you always seemed to stay with young Andrew, who's Dad didn't really look after him. God knows what mischief you got up to."
