Polly Mintons Flea

Saturday afternoon and Polly Minton gave a final rub to the brass flower vase she'd been polishing, replaced it on the stand and turned her attention to the brass cross on the altar. Putting on the metal polish she called out to Eric, "Don't forget the vestry."

Turning off the vacuum cleaner he said, "What?"

"The vestry, don't forget to do the vestry, we forgot it last Saturday."

"Okay," Eric replied.

He went to restart the vacuum cleaner, but hesitated for a moment. Polly had sat down on the altar steps and her cotton overall dress had ridden up to give Eric a view of her thighs and panties. The panties weren't very sexy but her legs were, and Eric felt a twitching sensation in his groin.

Polly saw him looking at her and felt her face flush as she pulled the dress down to cover her thighs.

"Better get on Eric," she said, "we don't want to be here all afternoon and there's a wedding at four."

Eric restarted the vacuum cleaner and finished vacuuming the carpet that ran down the aisle, and then made his way to the vestry.

Polly paused in her polishing and sat thinking for a minute or two. It was ridiculous she knew; why would a boy Eric's age be interested in a woman her age, yet he did stare at her rather...rather...; she tried to find the word she needed and finally settled for "intensely."

It was embarrassing at times, but it was nice too, because it made her feel very feminine, a young guy like Eric wanting to look at her thighs. She pushed the thought away and got on with her polishing.

Polly had no illusions about her self; at forty three her looks were more or less what they'd always been, homely. She had been surprised that Arthur had taken an interest in her and asked her to marry him. He had said he wanted a homely girl, but he hadn't been referring to her looks. What he'd meant was that he wanted a girl who would give him a comfortable home, and Polly had done that.

Arthur had sometimes laughing said he'd married her for her tits and legs, but Polly had never been sure whether he was serious or not. Certainly her legs were quite nice, but her breasts were a doubtful asset. She often felt she carried them before her like a medieval galleon in full sail, although she had to admit that Arthur had enjoyed them.

Giving the cross a final buff she replaced it on the altar as Eric came out from the vestry.

"All done," she said; "let's go home."

* * * * * * * *

Eric had come into Polly's life by a rather circuitous route. She worked in the school canteen at lunch times and had vaguely noticed Eric along with the other students. He came into prominence when he was about fourteen and both his parents were killed in a car crash. It was then that Polly, always a very sensitive woman, had taken more notice of Eric.

His parents dead Eric was taken in reluctantly by an aunt and uncle. They saw him as an unwanted burden and a financial liability, consequently Eric ended his high school years at age sixteen. At that time Polly thought that he looked forlorn and bedraggled.

Not having completed high school it was difficult for Eric to get any worthwhile job that would give him a future. It was at that point Polly stepped in. Arthur was a builder and Polly suggested that he take Eric on as an apprentice. Arthur didn't need an apprentice at the time, and in any case employers were insisting on high school graduates as apprentices. He succumbed to Polly's persuasiveness since he'd always found it difficult to deny Polly, and so he took Eric on.

Eric, hardly able to believe his luck, and unaware that Polly had been the instrument of his good fortune, entered into the apprenticeship with enthusiasm -- an enthusiasm as Arthur had commented to Polly, "You don't find in the young chaps these days."

Arthur became Eric's mentor and for Eric Arthur became a role model, but Polly could see that it was more than that.

She and Arthur had not been able to have children, and Polly could see that Arthur was beginning to view Eric as the son he would liked to have had, and she thought that Eric saw in Arthur the father he hadn't got.

The relationship between Arthur and Eric began to expand from being a work relationship when Arthur started to bring Eric home for meals. That was when, as Polly saw it, she became a sort of substitute mother for Eric.

The turning point came when the aunt and uncle announced they were moving elsewhere. It was then that Arthur, none too subtly, began to talk about the house being too big for two people and wouldn't it be a good idea if....

The aunt and uncle were very happy to be rid of the unwanted burden, and so Eric came to live with Polly and Arthur.

It looked as if Eric's future was a bright one, and so it seemed to Arthur and Polly who now unashamedly saw Eric as the son they'd never had.

It seems that the deity or the satanic one, or whatever it is that keeps an eye on us, seeing that we are going well, steps in to remind us that life can be hazardous. It stepped in with tragic consequences for our trio.

When Eric was nineteen Arthur lost his footing on a scaffold and fell three stories to his death. The death of Arthur was devastating for Polly and Eric, but especially Polly, and it was Eric who supported her through the worst time of her grief.

Arthur's building business was sold and the new owner took over Eric's apprenticeship, but of course it was never the same for Eric after that. The close relationship he'd had with Arthur gone, Eric felt as if there was a big hole in his life. He even began to wonder if he was a jinx who brought death to people.

He continued to live with Polly and although he might not have consciously thought about it, he seemed to be trying to replace Arthur in her life.

When the business was sold and everything was added up, Arthur hadn't left Polly a great deal to live on, and so she'd taken on cleaning work, including the church, to eke out what she had.

Eric entered the final year of his apprenticeship and did what he could to help Polly out financially, and in addition he helped her when he could with her cleaning work, especially the church.

It worried Polly at times that Eric seemed to have so little time for socializing, especially with girls. "After all" she thought, "by the time I was eighteen and Arthur was twenty we were socializing very intimately and often." But Eric seemed content to spend his time between work and being with Polly.

That worried Polly too. It didn't seem right that Eric wanted to spend so much time with her, even if she was his mother figure. It was then she started to notice the way Eric looked at her sometimes. She wondered what he was thinking and feeling and even though she told herself she as imagining things, it gave her rather pleasing sensations, especially in her clitoris, and she would have to go to her bedroom and attend to it.

* * * * * * * *

With Arthur dead men had not come knocking at her door, not like Mavis Goodenough who was widowed at forty six when her husband got killed in a rock climbing accident.

Mavis was a big busty blonde (dyed) and the men, young and old, married and unmarried, had almost worn her door out knocking on it.

The only person who had knocked on Polly's door was old Mr. Ruggles from next door. He was sixty seven at the time and a deacon in the church and made no secret of the fact he hated his wife. To be fair, nearly everybody else hated the nagging harridan.

He had suggested none too subtly that he and Polly could have a very fulfilling relationship. Polly didn't fancy having his claw-like hands up her skirt or pummeling her breasts, and besides, his breath smelt like rotten fish, and so Polly had refused his kind offer.

Now Mr. Ruggles had to be content to watch Polly from his bedroom window through his binoculars when Polly was in the back garden hanging out the washing. Polly had sometimes heard Mrs. Ruggles yell out, "Ruggles, what are you looking at?"

Mr. Ruggles would meekly reply, "There's an interesting bird in the next door garden my dear, I really must look it up in my bird book."

From Eric's perspective he certainly saw Polly as a mother figure, but once he moved in with Arthur and Polly a new element had gradually entered into his feelings for her. Certainly she was a very motherly sort of woman, but for Eric the maternal aspect seemed to focus on her luxuriant bosom.

While Arthur was alive he had hidden how he felt about Polly, but with Arthur gone he had been less careful. He wanted to see her breasts naked, to touch them and bury his head between them and suck her nipples.

He knew that Polly wasn't a fantastically beautiful woman and many might not consider her even sexy, but like Arthur he saw behind the exterior to the sensitive and comfortable woman. In his imagination he thought that her vagina would be very soft, warm and clinging and that was what he wanted.

Polly was usually very modest and did not put her assets on display, but that Saturday afternoon when she had sat on the altar steps and her dress had ridden up, Eric had realised that she had terrific legs, strong but shapely. Behind those cotton panties he imagined the gateway to juicy paradise -- his paradise.

So near and yet so far; they lived together, spent a lot of time together, and Polly seemed to be beyond his reach. The age disparity did not weigh with Eric, and he knew that a lot of his peers were enjoying the sexual favours of older women; in fact they preferred older women because older women are more giving.

He actually knew of one guy who had been engaged but had ended up marrying the woman who had been destined to become his mother-in-law.

Had Eric known the feelings Polly had for him; how at night on her bed she moaned, "Fuck me Eric, rape me," as she masturbated, or had Polly been aware of just how much Eric wanted to fuck her, their difficulties might have been easily resolved, but like many people they were uncertain of what reception they would get if they made a move.

And so things stood at a sexual impasse. They were like two people, one on each side of a chasm, and afraid to make the leap that would bring them together. It would take a very special event to make one of them take the chance.

* * * * * * * *

The event when it occurred could hardly be called "special," in fact it was rather ludicrous.

It was another Saturday afternoon; Eric was once more vacuuming the aisle carpet and Polly was polishing the brass. She felt something moving in the region of her breasts; it felt like flea. She made a tentative search and decided that she'd better go into the vestry to make a closer exploration.

In the vestry she undid her overall dress and removed her bra and began flea hunting. The flea, if one existed, seemed to have relocated itself in her pubic hair and so pushing down her panties she sat on the vestry table and began a search there.

In the meantime Eric had finished the carpet and was on his way to the vestry. Entering he was confronted by Polly with dress wide open, her breasts exposed, her panties half way down her legs, and searching with her fingers for the elusive flea in her pubic hair.

Polly froze in mid flea hunt and Eric might be forgiven for thinking she was in the preliminary stages of masturbating. Eric too was rooted to the spot as he took in her naked and luscious breasts, the only activity being the rapid rise of his penis.

They were roused from their state of petrifaction when the vacuum cleaner hose fell from Eric's lifeless fingers.

"I...I...I was just..." Polly began, but stopped as her eyes focused on the large protuberance at Eric's groin that seemed to be struggling to get out of his jeans. She felt her juices starting to flow and her nipples grew long and firm.

Eric, his eyes riveted on her splendid mammary glands gasped, "You're so beautiful."

In other circumstances Polly might have denied she was beautiful but her condition at that moment allowed for no negative responses. Her panties had slipped down to her ankles and after a minor tussle she kicked them off and then opened and raised her legs to expose her genitals invitingly to Eric.

As Eric gazed upon the long cleft of her vulva Polly she extended her arms to him saying, "Yes, darling." She had leapt rather like the elusive flea, across the chasm.

Those two words were all he needed; he went to her and her arms went round his neck, drawing his face to hers. Her mouth was wide open, ready to receive the exploration of his tongue. It searched slowly, first her lower mouth and then roamed to her upper palate, then to the back of her mouth and finally engaged in a writhing battle with her tongue.

With one hand he fondled a breast while the other sought and found her wet genitals which he began to caress.

With some difficulty Polly managed to unzip his flies and pull out his penis which she began to stroke. When they both surfaced from the kiss breathing heavily she gasped, "In me darling...put it in me..."

Guided by her hand his penis entered her tunnel of joy, and it was all that he had imagined and more. It was soft, warm, wet and seemed to be saying, "Welcome," as it gripped and released his length spasmodically.

For a while they moved in perfect unison, the only sounds being Eric's groans of pleasure and Polly's repeated refrain, "I want you...I need you...I want you...I need you...," until it changed to a deep throated cry, "You're making me come...you're making me come...faster...harder darling...deeper....come...come with me...come wi-eeeeow."

Eric felt the delicious tingling sensation in his testes as they released his sperm to send it rushing up his length. He rammed his penis hard into Polly as the sperm shot out of his urethra into her. They clung together unmoving for a couple of heart beats, and then they were frantically jerking together as he filled her with his cum.

As Polly reached her climax she gave a long howling cry and then moved against Eric with short sharp movement whimpering, "Stay...stay...not finished...stay..."

Even when her post-coital judders ended Polly would not release Eric. Her hands were stroking and twining in his hair as she kissed and licked his face.

"Beautiful...wonderful...love you...love you...my lovely boy...lots of love now...lots more darling..."

In the midst of this Polly suddenly looked at her watch and said, "We'd better finish up here and go home. Eric was a trifle disappointed because he had begun to feel that his penis had taken up permanent residence in Polly' vaginal tunnel and he liked it.

When he withdrew his penis from her it was glistening with their joint fluids, and the bulk of those fluids having been left in Polly, they began to ooze out of her.

"Pass me my panties," she said. Eric bent and retrieved the panties from the floor and taking them from him Polly first wiped his penis and then plied the panties to her sticky wet sex organ. Having mopped up as much as she could and omitting her bra, she button up her dress and returned to the body of the church to finish the brass polishing, while Eric vacuumed the vestry.

Completing their tasks they made their way home.

* * * * * * * *

Admittedly I have a suspicious mind, but it has occurred to me that there never was a flea; that Polly had calculated when Eric would finish vacuuming the aisle carpet and would make for the vestry, there to find her...well...as he did find her.

If it was a ploy to finally get Eric's penis into her vagina then it worked to perfection. After that time she needed no more ploys, and if there was any more flea hunting then one might wonder how Eric's tongue in her genitals and his penis in Polly's mouth could be classified as an efficient way to flea hunt.

The search for the flea may have been in vain, they however did find something else -- something rather unexpected given Polly's age. At first they thought they would call the child Fleance, but decided against this, first on the ground that the poor child would have a miserable life at school with such a name, and secondly because they discovered it was a boy's name, and the child was a girl. They called her Bouncy instead.

They never did find that elusive flea, but then, they did not try very hard because they had better things to do.