It Was Never a Waste of Time

It Was Never A Waste Of Time

A sequel to 'Wasted By Love' and 'Moments Not To Be Wasted'

Mabel's text message, sent in the middle of their working day, was to the point and certainly caught him off guard. As the team was taking a break from the concreting work, they had stopped for a brew, he took the opportunity to read it.

'Frank's walked out on me, again, and he won't be coming back. I'd sure appreciate it if you could call me. Do that for me, please, Darryl darling? Mum'

The woman that he had pictures of, stored on his iPhone, had not called herself 'Mum' for months and whenever they were in contact. Their relationship had been turned on its head shortly after Frank had left them for the first time. Now, he was gone again, and it left him wondering if Mabel expected help in picking up the pieces of her life again.

A favourite picture was a surprise snap that he had taken one morning, the sharp definition of the picture taken with his iPhone and of a woman in her soft yellow bra and panties, her large and rounded breasts held so wonderfully, her panties gripped by Mabel's broad hips and her tummy softly rounded. Mabel had a smooth and soft-skinned loveliness; she was voluptuous and desirable, and his girlfriend did not even get close to doing for him what Mabel had so recklessly done at the height of a tempestuous affair. It had sure been fun.

'I'll freshen up and then ride over to you, say six-thirty if I can get away from the job on time. Things haven't worked out with Abi so we're in the same place. C u later! D'

♥

They kissed in greeting, just a brush of their lips, and Darryl met her wondering look.

Neither of them wanted to make the first move, the memories of all that they had succumbed to, some months ago and after Frank abandoned them the first time, still so livid in their mind's eye. And yet they could not keep from gazing at each other as if to challenge what they had both decided should happen after Frank had re-entered their lives, but Mabel's in particular.

A tempestuous affair between mother and son had ended, much to Mabel's relief, and he had moved out to live with his mates in a terraced house not so different from what had once been thought of as the family home.

He had fretted as he rode his Norton motorcycle over to Mabel's place. She would be living alone and this time he could only call in to be of help, to be a prop both emotionally and physically, he supposed.

"You won't take to the bottle again, will you?" he asked, the challenge in his tone only too clear. "I helped you through the last time when you did that."

"How could I forget!" she snapped. "We've been through all of that before, so I don't need any reminders."

"Steady on, Mabel," he said calmly. "I'm just saying how it was, then. And, even if he has gone again..."

"For good," she interrupted.

"Yes, for good, and if he has gone again then I reckon that you're in a better place than the last time."

"But you're not here. You've moved away, so I have no one to talk things through with like we did then." She sighed and gave him a baleful glance. "I'm sounding so needy aren't I?"

Darryl shrugged his broad shoulders as if that was an answer to what Mabel had just confessed to.

"I thought we had agreed that we had gone beyond all of this, me being the answer to what happens. We went as far as we could the last time around. Are you asking me for help again, in that way...to love with you so that you mend after what has happened, again?"

She touched his arm and it provoked him to step closer.

"What happened...some of it's my fault. I was angry that he left me the first time for a woman who ended it, predictably. When I said that, he went crazy and told me the reason why... I wouldn't let things rest, no matter how small the problem was." She sighed and then clenched her lips shut. "And then, that afternoon, when you came around I was angry again at how he treated you. I couldn't take that, say nothing about it, and soon we reckoned that we had run out of time together. He left me, not much later...a few days...and now here I am talking to you again, as we did the first time."

Daryl was seen to shrug off his thin leather biker's jacket and put it over the newel post of the stairs. "I had hoped that my barging in on you that afternoon didn't make things worse for you."

"Things were on the slide, darling." Mabel gripped his arm and felt the warmth of his skin to her attentive and demanding touch. "He was using me, or beginning to, when we heard you downstairs..."

She turned away and he followed her into the small kitchen that was spotlessly clean. The sight was in sharp contrast to how it had been some time ago and when Frank's desertion had happened the first time. Mabel had let things go and he'd picked her up, had done so in ways that defied everything that had gone before.

Darryl saw how Mabel's dress tightened on the swell of her breasts as she reached into a wall cupboard to grab two mugs. He gazed at the silken smoothness of her legs as the hem rode up over her thighs. He remembered only too clearly how it felt to have her warm flesh around his body as they humped. He shivered on remembering those times, also from the image of Frank lying between them as he took her.

"Who do you think you are to come barging in on us?" Frank had yelled. "You should be in your place, living with your pals!"

"I am, but I also think of this place as a home, too," he had answered angrily. "I'm sorry to have embarrassed the two of you. I'll get out."

"Wait, Darryl, darling!" Mabel had called out. She had been seen to cinch her dressing gown a little tighter around her naked body before she had rushed to restrain him, to keep him from leaving, but the sight of her going to him had only angered Frank further.

"Let him go, woman! He makes his life and we do the same!"

Mabel saw him shudder and met the dart of Darryl's eyes upon her as she woke from her daydream. "Here's your tea and don't think about him. I've gotten through before this and with your help."

"Thanks, it's a special brew," he answered and on feeling a moment's touch to his arm. He wondered, as he did so, whether Mabel would look to him again for moments of comfort.

"You're doing okay at work, I guess?" she asked in a flat voice.

"Yes, it's hard graft but it's fine. It's fun, even, and they want me to go on a course and learn some more. If I get through it will mean more dosh...and it will add to my work experience record. I can be a bit choosier about what I do next."

"That's great, darling." She leaned forward in her chair and reached out to touch his face. "I always knew that you'd make something of yourself. I guess me calling you all the time, or like I did today, gets in the way of you getting on..."

He grabbed hold of her hand and kissed it. "What we have runs too deep, doesn't it, Mabel?"

"Yeah, even though it shouldn't...or not in the way that it once did."

"If you're thinking like that, why call me?"

"Because I can't forget, that's why."

Darryl watched her sit back in her chair and cross her legs. He realised, now that he was in the house and alone with her, that he was hard, an erection straining at his briefs and the gnaw of longing for her, a shapely woman, too much to simply ignore. The feelings would only sharpen with the certainty that Frank had moved out and he could be alone with her. He could, if she let him, throw caution and restraint to the four winds and who they were to each other, would mean that he would not have to keep a tight rein on his feelings.

"Are we in the same place as you and I were some months ago?" he now asked.

"Perhaps we are, or I am. Let me say it in that way," Mabel answered and shifted on her seat. "I'm only too sober, this time."

"I'm sure glad about that," he smiled, each of them instinctively holding out a hand before they gripped them tightly. "You know that you can count on me."

"Yes, and it's the reason that I called you....sent you a text, I mean."

It had been some months ago that he had come home and she'd had a skinful. What had then happened between them had quickly spiralled out of control. But, they were adults and the last thing that had motivated him to seduce Mabel was some crazy notion of his insecurity; his wish to

'return to the womb'

and to hide from the world or who he was.

No, it wasn't like that at all. He loved sex and to help her through Frank's rejection of her had brought him to the crazy decision, to take her to bed that very first time.

So, restraint on his part, then her acceptance of what was to happen, brought them to a place where tempestuous and draining sex was the only thing on their minds. They had both been relieved when Frank had re-entered her life and had admitted that he had made a mistake in abandoning her.

How quickly that

'reconciliation'

had skidded out of control and Frank had walked out on her again.

Mabel stood up and gathered the two cups that had been drained of their contents. Intent on putting them in the sink she was surprised by his restraining touch. Darryl's hand slid under the hem of her dress and she felt a caress to her thigh, then to the back of her knees.

"May I take your mind off what's happened?" he asked as his caresses progressed over the back of her thighs. "Sit on me."

"I'm...I'm wondering if I should do that...if we should go there again," she mumbled, The tea mugs clattered on the kitchen table's surface. She conceded to his touches and did not restrain him as Daryl pulled the skirt of her dress over her thighs and she gathered it at her waist. Parting her legs, she sat down on his thighs and met only a moment's stilled look before their mouths crashed against each other and they pursued deep open-mouthed kisses.

"How crazy you make me feel!"

She gazed up at the ceiling and became lost in what he did so certainly, the push of his fingers into her pussy as he tugged away her panties. She rode them and soon felt the cramps of her impending orgasm course through her belly.

"Let them happen, Mabel...let them happen, you wonder. I'm here for you."

In a maelstrom of conflicting emotions and the rush of desire aroused by the renewed claims of her son and lover, she nodded her acceptance through their kisses.

"Take me to bed! It's what you want just as much as I do!"

♥

Darryl stepped soundlessly over the tiled floor, Mabel yet to notice him drawing near. She sat at the table, with her shoulders hunched, and swirled the contents of her glass around as if in time with her thoughts.

He loved the sight of her cropped blonde hair, with its indolent curls, that she had tied haphazardly into a knot behind her head. He delighted in the grace of her movements and how her light petal green, silk, nightgown shaped her, the lacy hem of a peignoir trailing onto the floor. If she was cold, or the chill air of the room affected her, Mabel did not show it, her peachy white skin smooth and a delight to behold.

"Mabel?" he asked softly, restraining the urge to touch her shoulder and startle the woman whom he had taken to bed. Their loving had been intense, her understanding of his needs harder to explain until defining moments in their shared lives together had brought them to where they again found themselves. "Are you okay, I understand what made you do it.'

She turned on her chair and answered him sharply, one hand sweeping back stray strands of her hair, gracefully.

Mabel loved the sight of him, the young man with his strongly defined pecs, muscular biceps, the sight of his ribs under Darryl's hairless torso, the swell of his sac, and the outline of his penis that shaped his white briefs. He'd never gone into wearing boxer shorts and, now, the sight of him as Darryl stood before her aroused a flutter of anticipation in her belly.

Wayward emotions and a rush of longing would overcome any restraint or her doubts about what she wanted to pursue with him once more. She had endured what felt like unending weeks of living under the same roof with his father, Frank. But that man was gone and now Darryl set the blood humming in her veins and provoked the slow anticipatory flow of moisture in her pussy.

"Do you understand, because I don't! Letting go and with you, I could just about understand, but with Frank and all that he did to me when he came back and asked me to forgive him? You shouldn't have seen us together in that way!"

She glared at him, but he was undeterred by her angry response and the wildness in her eyes.

"I know, but I understand. We agreed not to be together as we once were, for me to be close but not to offer the comfort you needed or wanted at a bad time for you. He took advantage and...and the same could be said of me."

"He used me! We were together...us! That's how it felt, just as it did again last night! It was so wrong and yet it also felt so good," she confessed. "You don't need to keep reminding me of what we did! My mind's full of it."

He went on, undeterred.

"Life was tough for you, for us both, but for you most of all. But I understood, we both did, that it was wrong to continue."

"And yet we did do that, last night!"

It had made no sense, the pursuit of consensual acts between them and their claims upon each other that had made her feel that she had floated on a sea of pleasure. He had pursued the woman he now saw seated before him, and she had sought strained comfort at a time when she had felt abandoned once more by a feckless man.

"It's difficult for me, you know, and even more so after what happened, a few days ago." She sipped on her drink but met his concerned look upon her. She moved to reach up and touch his cheek, a trembling smile to be seen on her lips. "What a mess, what an emotional mess I've gotten myself into, again. And there you were to help me pick up the pieces. It shouldn't be happening, but it is and it did."

"And I'll help you through, again, you know that I will."

Everything continued to feel so unreal. Mabel clutched the hand that he held out to her and drew Darryl to her side, shifting on the seat so that he could stand closer.

"What I did with Frank, accepting him back was natural and more understandable, but I couldn't undo what happened with you, the sharing of forbidden comfort and company after your father left us and when I felt so low and rejected."

She scarcely recognised, let alone could explain, the behaviour of the woman that she had become once more, but she had needed comfort and had found it in her boy's arms and from the wracking pleasure that his claims upon her body, and the driving intensity of his penis as she took him in, had brought.

She had succumbed to the emotional and physical mayhem that having intercourse with him, so tempestuously and destructively, had brought upon her. It had been discovered at a time when she had thought that she needed it least, the complications and the guilt, but Darryl's devotion to her became so much more. Whatever had played out in his mind, about her, had become ragingly and physically real in her.

And now here she was, alone again, and with him to turn to if she chose to do that. She would be claimed again by a strong-limbed and vigorous young man who was devoted to, even besotted with, her.

"I understood everything that we did and the reasons for it," Darryl now said after finding her use of words only too correct.

He had sensed Mabel fall into herself as she remembered all that had happened between them and that no one else had been the least aware of. Being under the same roof, his time spent at his work, and then with her had become a raging and tempestuous affair, the draining effects of their shared guilt but a temporary restraint before they found each other again.

She nodded and rested her head against his chest as Darryl stood behind her. She met his stilled gaze as he looked down and took in what her nightdress failed to fully conceal. His eyes had drifted over her, and she knew that his gaze would linger at the scarcely hidden swell of her breasts, how her nightdress shaped her firm thighs. She shifted and felt the press of his penis against her back and reached for his hand that rested on her shoulder.

She gripped it fiercely.

"I still excite you, don't I, or thoughts of us together as we once were has done that to you?' she asked, her thoughts tumbling over in response to his closeness and Darryl's state of arousal.

He sighed. "Yes, you know that you do and that I can't keep my eyes off you now."

Dismayed, she knew again what lay behind those eyes. It had been so wrong what she had conceded to with him months ago, but he had ardently taken her mind off everything, only to have her conscience take its destructive hold on her.

But by then it was too late.

"I'm sorry that you should have seen us, darling, but I thought you were more than settled in your new place and living with friends. You were worried for me, is that it?"

"Yeah, it goes something like that."'

He could not keep from taking in how Mabel's breasts shaped the thin nightgown that she wore, the lacy straps on her bare shoulders and the lace frill at the neckline revealing her cleavage. The wayward gnaw of desire for the woman that she was to him claimed his attention and aroused his longing for her once more. He stroked her skin, at her slender shoulders, with both hands, his thumbs moving slowly to caress her neck under that wonderful silken hair.

She felt him kiss the top of her head. "You...you can't be jealous of him, of Frank, can you?"

"No, not jealous but worried what he might do to you if you argued. I don't know what to feel or think about that,' he answered sullenly and sought to move away from her. She gripped his hands and slowly pressed them against the tumble of her breasts. Darryl gasped in dismay at what she had done. "You don't have to make it up to me again. I said that I understand if you've got your doubts about what we've done."

Despite his protestations, Mabel knew that he remained besotted with her.

"Don't I? How you are with me, now, makes me think that I do have to make it up to you, darling, and what I fell into doing with Frank. There was no pleasure in it..."

He heard her soft gasp as he squeezed and felt the weight of her shapely, firm breasts and could so easily admit to being dismayed, possessively so, by the thought that someone else had touched her in these intimate ways.

"I said that understand what made you do it and to take him back."

She turned on the seat to look up at him before she met the press of his lips to her cheeks. She chose to avoid Darryl's sought-after kiss on her mouth, but she pushed her hands over his warm skin and stroked it.

"I guess I just needed a moment's comfort from him, from Frank," she whispered, looking into his eyes and seeking his reaction. Darryl would know that she was not the promiscuous sort, even though she had fallen from grace by sleeping with him. She clung to the excuse of having sought solace from him for what Frank had done. It failed to offer an acceptable excuse for what had happened between them when Frank had left the first time.

"I said that I understand what made you do it, taking him back in."

"He first came to the house to see how I was,' Mabel went on as if she hadn't heard him. 'Your father's been of some help with the house and he asked for a favour before I agreed to take him back."

"You wanted to forget what we did?"

"Perhaps, yes, but with him it wasn't the comfort that I wanted to find, after all. Perhaps I wanted to..."

"Ease your conscience for what we had been doing for some time?"

"Yes, that too." She met his gaze and saw the angry set of his mouth. "You still seem to think that what we did has been so easy for me."