Thursday afternoon and I made it onto my Eurostar carriage with barely five minutes to spare. Somewhat embarrassing as I only live ten minutes walk from Paddington railway station, whereas my seat-mate Rachel, who'd clearly arrived in plenty of time, had travelled over two hundred miles from the North of England to get there. I gave Rachel an apologetic smile as I stowed my bag.
Rachel is the mother of my girlfriend Keely and we were on our way to watch Keely compete at the Olympic Games in Paris; not something I should have been late for. Rachel and Keely are very much peas from the same pod: Tall, slim and perhaps not surprisingly, athletic; in her late-forties, Rachel's figure is a little fuller than Keely's and her hair shorter and a silver-blonde as opposed to Keely's long, golden-blonde mane.
I'd met Rachel on several occasions and even stayed at her house a few times, but I wouldn't say that I knew her well. Certainly not well enough to be entirely comfortable about our sharing a bedroom for the next five nights, which was the plan. It was a twin room and we had discussed the matter, both agreeing to respect each other's privacy and 'behave like adults'.
The British Olympic Committee provide subsidised accommodation for the closest family or friends of any competitor who requests it. Keely had been allocated such a room, which Rachel and I would share for the next five nights; assuming of course that Keely made it through both the heats and semi-finals to race for a medal in the final -- Never to be Doubted!
Though Keely's father would've no doubt liked to have been there too, he was perhaps the least likely person to get an invitation. Keely's dad had skipped-out on the family before Keely was a year old; I'd never even met him. Keely and Rachel had barely seen him either, or at least not until Keely had begun to win races, garner attention and make serious money; he'd not been invited back into the family.
The journey had been pleasant enough; once the pleasantries were over and we'd brought each other up to date with what and when we'd last heard from Keely, our conversation was fairly bland. I suspect that we were both thinking ahead as to how our room-share would work out. I felt the onus would be on me to behave... like a gentleman over the coming days and most especially the nights.
While we'd often spoken on the phone and exchanged a few, very public words last week when she'd raced in London, neither Rachel nor I had actually seen Keely in six weeks. Nor were we expecting to do so until after her final race on Monday night; Keely was in 'competition mode' and had been residing at a high-altitude training camp.
Barely four hours later we made it to our hotel, or maybe hostel would be a better description and arrived in our room. For me at least, the tension went up a notch when the door closed and I was relieved when Rachel took the lead:
"Right Sean, what I'm in need of is a shower and a change of clothes. Why don't you go and explore the complex, I'm told that there's a restaurant, or canteen at least, somewhere around here. Give me forty minutes and then I'll go there for a cup of tea while you use the bathroom."
"Sounds like a plan, I'll see you in a while." I was out of the door not two minutes later, wallet and phone in hand along with the obligatory -- unless you wanted taking down by a security team -- accreditation badge on a lanyard around my neck.
I got the lie of the land for our temporary home and having found the canteen -- restaurant would've been pushing it a bit -- enjoyed a coffee and a sandwich. With the 'Gentlemanly' bit at the forefront of my mind, I left it for an hour before returning to our room and when I got there I knocked at the door and waited until Rachel let me in.
When Rachel did, I remained at the threshold; though presumably finished in the shower, Rachel's hair was still damp and she was clad (only?) in a grey towelling bathrobe. The robe was tucked tight around Rachel's neck and the hem fell to her mid-calf, but it was still an alluring sight. "Sorry Sean, my fault, it's a lovely shower and I've spent far longer under it than I ought."
"No... not a problem, I'll head off again for a while; if I come back in another half-hour, will that be OK?"
"Don't be daft. You'd quite the sweat on when you arrived at the train, I'll bet you're as desperate for a shower as I was. No, just grab your stuff and get yourself into the bathroom, there's loads of space for hanging stuff in there. Once the door's closed I'll get myself dressed and be long gone before you're out again; I'll meet you in the restaurant yeah? Is it easy to find?"
I nodded my understanding and agreement, gave Rachel directions to the canteen and lounge area, as she sat on the end of her bed, then having grabbed my washing kit, I went into the bathroom and closed the door. The sound-proofing wasn't up to much, so until I'd turned on the shower, I could hear Rachel moving around getting dressed next door.
I was aware that I had an erection even before I stepped into the shower and the combination of the hot soapy water, my hands and the thoughts that were whirling through my mind did nothing to reduce it. Until a few minutes ago, I'd never thought of Rachel as anything other than 'Keely's Mum'; sure she was cute, perhaps even hot, but I'd never once considered her in that way.
Those few minutes looking at a damp-haired Rachel in her bathrobe and contemplating what, if anything she'd be wearing beneath it, had changed that completely; or perhaps, they just caused me to admit it? That Keely and I hadn't had sex in nearly two months was no doubt a factor too - 'competition mode' and all that -- but I couldn't deny that it was Rachel rather than Keely who I was picturing as I stood there.
My common sense and conscience put up a good fight, but the inner demon prevailed; barely a minute later I was leaning back against the tiled wall, with my right hand going ten to the dozen along my shaft. I lasted only another short minute and once again, there was no denying that it was Rachel's face I was imagining my semen spraying onto.
That wank was perhaps no bad thing? It relieved a lot of built-up tension and frustration; I was able to think clearly once again and reminded myself that I needed to behave like an adult. I spent a good ten or fifteen minutes under the shower; more than ample time for Rachel to get clear of the bedroom and I finished it off with an ice-cold rinse, as a reminder to be a gentleman.
All was silent when I turned off the shower and remained so while I was towelling myself dry. I wasn't about to take any chances though and knocked soundly on the connecting door and called out before going back into the bedroom. Even then I'd paused for a moment and wrapped the damp towel about my waist before opening the door.
It was semi-dark in the bedroom, so I was three strides inside it before I saw Rachel; she was sitting on the end of the bed, exactly where I'd left her, and still wearing that grey bath robe. I opened with a squawk of surprise, before managing "Oh God, I'm sorry Rachel, I'd expected you to have gone by now... I did knock before coming out."
