This story is a two chapter spin-off from my series East End Lovers, a mother -- son love story. This story is about the son, Cliff, and a relationship he had with an older colleague in the early 1980's. It's narrated by Cliff, and set in North London. The second chapter will be narrated chiefly by Gillian. Any constructive comments on possible content are welcomed.
All characters are over 18 years, and all characters and places are fictitious.
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In the autumn of 1982 I was 25 years old and had been working for 6 months as an economist in a government office which was overseeing regional regeneration in Britain. It was actually more interesting than perhaps it sounds and I got to travel around the country quite a bit. I was living by myself in Camden Town, though had a regular girlfriend; as anyone who's read the East End Lovers series will know, I was also having a long term relationship with my mother, though at this time we only got together occasionally.
I was working in central London, in an office with around 30 staff, a mixture of economists and admin people. The senior admin officer was named Gillian, and in those days before personal computers we had a lot of face to face contact and got to know each other quite well. Gillian was around 58; she was a large woman, not so much fat as well built or what we then called stout, with very large pendulous breasts, and shapely legs. She wore glasses and had a round, attractive face -- she must have been very pretty in her younger days -- and short silvery white hair. Overall I suppose I sort of fancied her, though without wanting to do anything about it, though I did from time to time wonder what it would be like to have those breasts either side of my cock!
I had heard that she had been widowed a year or so before I joined the office. Partly because of this, I didn't go out of my way to flirt with her. However, after I'd returned from my summer holiday with a nice tan, she made a remark about it suiting me and I began to detect a few looks and smiles coming in my direction. As always I was flattered though again as always I never assumed she actually fancied me.
On Fridays it was customary for the younger members of staff -- and some older ones -- to go for a drink after work, and Gillian sometimes came along. I noticed she was starting to come more regularly and I put it down to getting over the loss of her husband. I usually left the pub around 7 to meet my girlfriend Jenny, though she also had a job involving travel and around once a month would be away.
On one particular Friday evening in October, when Jenny was not around, I stayed on and found myself chatting to Gillian for much of the evening. It got to 7 pm and most of the others had gone home; there were only four of us left, and one of the other lingerers suggested we go to the India Club along the Strand for a meal, and I was up for it so said yes. I was half expecting Gillian to leave at that point, but she wanted to come along too, so we piled into a taxi for the short ride to the restaurant.
After the meal, the other two dashed off to catch trains from Waterloo, and I was left on the street with Gillian. It was then that she dropped her first surprise—
"Cliff, I was wondering if you might like to come back for a coffee... or maybe a glass of wine? It's quite early and we don't have work tomorrow? How about it?"
Of course she might have just meant she wanted to make me a coffee.... But I thought this might well be an offer I couldn't refuse. I suddenly found that actually I did fancy her quite a bit. Gillian lived in Barnet, a few stops further up the Tube line from Camden Town so getting home would be easy, if I needed to. So of course I agreed and we headed for the Tube.
Back at her house we agreed that wine might be nicer than coffee. I had been drinking beer and was desperate for a pee, so headed to her bathroom -- and while there I gave my todger a good wash just in case...
Gillian was sitting on the sofa with two glasses of wine ready and her very shapely legs demurely together. She had put some Ella Fitzgerald on the stereo and there was just one lamp on.
"Well Cliff, here's to the future, whatever that might hold..."
We chinked our wine glasses, and then she leaned towards me and our lips came together, closed at first and then of course we started tonguing each other and my hand went to her wonderful large tits and I could feel the flesh straining at the thin materials of her bra and blouse. I groaned out loud at the simple pleasure of it all.
"Hmmm, yes, I thought you might fancy me Cliff.... I've seen you staring at my tits and I wondered if you might fancy older ladies. I must tell you that I'm a bit rusty on the physical side of things though...".
She kissed me again and our hands started to roam around each other's bodies -- mine onto her tits and hers on my chest and then down to my erection. She pushed me back on the sofa and I watched her as she undid my belt, unzipped my fly and managed to extract my hard cock so it was sticking straight up, glistening with pre-cum. I was totally taken aback by the speed this had happened, and mesmerised. Gillian stared down at me. She unbuttoned her blouse, removed it and sat there in her plain white bra, nipples already firm and pushing through the cotton.
"Goodness Cliff you are a nice hard boy... I do like a good hard set of cock and balls...and you're big too... that's just as well 'cos, well to be totally honest, I do have quite a large fanny too and I'm afraid small cocks never used to make enough impression... I hope this doesn't all sound too shocking to you? ... No, I thought not.... If you want I can tell you more about me a bit later but first I'd like to break the ice...".
