Chemistry at work
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Mum is carrying my child. I constructed a new kitchen table as the old one was not suitable for a quick fuck and if Mum, Chrissie and my Mother enjoyed anything, it was a quick, impromptu fuck. We carried out extensive research as to the ideal height and design. I then constructed it. We tested it thoroughly.
For detail of the story so far -- please see Janet, Chrissie and me Chapters 1 -- 8.
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Wednesday evening a while after Mr. Johnson's wake. Chrissie, Mum and me were sitting around our new kitchen table. I was sketching Mum as she bustled about serving up dinner.
"Molly might well be around this evening Darling, while Chrissie and I are out. Please make sure she's very happy when she leaves."
"Whaaat?" I spluttered.
"My Brother's got a head like a sieve, Mum," chuckled my Sister, "now concentrate Ryan, this is important. Molly and most of the other women in the terrace want your cock, remember? Mum told you about it after Mr. Johnson's wake? Well Molly is popping round in the hope of enjoying a length of cock, your cock, OK?"
"Mum?" I said pleadingly.
"She's right Darling and you know it. She's not getting any. What with her Alf now passed she needs looking after. You promised Alf the night before he went, remember? 'I'd like you to look after Molly for me, if you can. She'll need looking after when I'm gone' he said and you promised him you'd do everything possible, remember that? Well now is the time to start keeping your promise."
"Yeah, OK although I didn't even consider that kind of 'looking after'. Anyway how did she know you two were going out? Did I even know?"
"Spur of the moment thing. Saw her this afternoon looking very down. Missing her Alf, 'know what I mean?' she said so I told her that Chrissie and I were going out about 7:30 and wouldn't be home 'til after 10. Suggested she might like to keep you company, is all," Mum chuckled, "so, like I said, make sure she goes home happy and knows she can come back for more, anytime. You owe Alf that much and we all owe Molly for her support and help over the years. It's time to help and support her now."
So, Mum and Chrissie went round to visit Rose, my Mother, Jim, my Granddad and Gerry, my Sister (same Mum AND Dad!) for a few hours and I'm sitting at the kitchen table converting the stick images of Mum in the shower that morning to images of a beautiful, naked, pregnant woman, when the doorbell chimed. I slipped my sketch books and materials into the nearest drawer.
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"Mrs. Johnson! Good evening, come in, come in."
I stepped back and held the door wide so that she could enter. She was wearing a long coat which surprised me. Her front door was less than two feet from ours. Even the wire that defined the property boundaries had long since disappeared. There was no need for her to walk up her front garden path and back down ours. She was also carrying a tray covered with a clean cloth. She'd been baking. Lemon Drizzle cake unless my nose deceived me.
"Mum and Chrissie are out I'm afraid, you'll have to put up with me for a while."
"That's alright Dear, I'm in no hurry. I'll just put this down here if you could help me with my coat?"
Putting the tray on the hall table she kept her back to me and started to unbutton her coat. I eased it off her shoulders and turned to hang it on a coat peg.
I turned back. Mrs. Johnson had turned to face me. She was wearing a dress. Mrs. Johnson always wore a dress or a skirt. I'd never seen her wear trousers, leggings or track-suit bottoms, ever. But I'd never seen her wear a dress that short. It definitely rivaled anything Mum might have worn. My brain clicked rapidly into gear. Mum and Chrissie were right. There was no other possible reason why Mrs. Johnson would wear such a short dress to visit us! And she didn't look to be over 60 at all. My jaw dropped as I drank in her beauty. She was wearing heels, something I'd not seen her wear before either. They accentuated her long legs which were further enhanced by the hem of her dress not even reaching mid thigh, barely passing the tops of her... stockings? The dress was tightly tailored emphasising her surprisingly slender waist. It was high necked and nicely tight across her chest. Mrs. Johnson was not wearing a bra.
"Wow! Mrs. Johnson, you look absolutely fabulous!" I exclaimed rather rudely, "sorry but... I know it's not polite to say it but you look incredible!"
"You like?" she beamed at me delightedly.
"No I love! Where have you been hiding all my life? If I may say so, you've got a beautiful pair of pins." I laughed in the hope that it would hide my rudeness a little.
Fortunately she laughed delightedly.
"My Alf used to say that, regularly. He'd say; Molly love, you've got beautiful pins and they go all the way up!"
"And do they, Molly love?" I asked cheekily, "twirl?" I added hopefully.
She chuckled and picked up the tray.
"You can follow me into the kitchen, if you like," she teased.
She turned and led the way down the hallway. Stockings! With perfectly straight seams! God, that dress was tight and it clearly wasn't the first time the staid, Mumsy, home baking Mrs. Johnson had worn high heels. I reached down and quickly reorganised the position of my rapidly growing cock.
She placed the tray on the table and walked straight over to the tall fridge freezer where the Tupperware cake thingy lived. She stretched up. The tight dress rose with her showing more bare flesh above her stocking tops. She stretched a little higher, the dress hem rose a little more but not quite enough.
"If I were a gentleman I'd offer to help...," I started.
"If I'd thought that you were a gentleman I'd not have bothered to wear a dress like this," she laughed, "well, do my pins go all the way to the top?"
"Can't quite see yet. Would you like me to get the cake box down?"
"No, but you can give me a lift if you would?"
Standing right behind her I stooped, wrapped my arms around her thighs and straightened up.
"Wow! My turn to be impressed! You didn't struggle in the least! That's enough, don't want to bang my head on the ceiling now do you?"
She picked up the cake box.
"You can put me down now, if you like."
"I'm in no great rush."
"There's nobody next door waiting for me."
Stepping away from the fridge freezer I turned us both to face the new kitchen table. The very same table I'd constructed at exactly the correct height to enable me to slide my cock deep into a willing cunt, effortlessly.
