So Much More Than A Memory
Melanie knew that Alain would again be working late. Her studious nephew, a lodger of some three years, had his final exams to complete and, with that, he would soon be gone from the University of Caen, out of her sight but not her mind. She would be left with the memories of him and how it had gone between them.
Her home would feel emptier and the sound of his laughter, his choice of music, and their conversations over supper when he was around at weekends would be heard no more. They would be missed, achingly so. His companionship and attentiveness had been relied upon, perhaps too much. He had his girlfriends and some even stayed over. She had her rules and only too vivid an imagination of what Alain pursued with these girlfriends when they were under her roof. Whenever that happened it caused unbearable strains in their relationship, and she would wonder if he would leave and find lodgings somewhere else.
But something made Alain stop short of such a drastic move, and she had chosen to believe that it was more than just a blood tie between them that kept him by her side.
Alain cared more for her than he would say, but she would catch his glances upon her and would wonder what was at work in him. Instead, he would have a soft word to express his concern that she ate the wrong things, sipped too much wine, and that she was, in effect, letting herself go and for only too understandable reasons.
'It won't make up for him leaving you, aunt,' he had said, nodding in her direction and at the glass of wine she was seen to be holding. Her husband of some years had simply packed his bags and deserted her, just at the time of him pitching up at her door and then starting his fresher's year at university.
'I damn well know that, so don't remind me!'
She had spoken out angrily, meeting his concerned look upon her as she stood in the doorway and saw him at work on his laptop, his T-shirt loose and the sleeves pushed up his arms. She had seen his slender feet poking out from his jeans, the hems frayed, and had watched how he pushed back the tumble of his long hair. She loved the richness of its colour, so reminiscent of her sister. It seemed to run in the family; she was blessed with it too, and much good that did her.
She heard him sigh, had watched Alain as he sat back and raised his arms in a long stretch, and remembered what he had said at the time and in similar circumstances.
'Sorry, I just don't want you to wreck what you have, your looks and vivacity, your joie de vivre.'
He was seen to look over his shoulder and to shrug as if a confession had finally been wrung out of him. She had taken more from his look upon her than simply one of concern.
Something snapped in her on hearing what he had said. She had gone to Alain and put an arm about his neck, leaned forward to nuzzle a kiss to his cheek. His eyes had widened in surprise at her behaviour, and they had then drifted to how her cotton V-neck blouse had opened to reveal her deep cleavage, her heavy breasts pressing and then brushing against his neck.
Alain had moved to kiss her in response to her brazen and impetuous advance. She'd squirmed on feeling his hand slip under her skirt and stroke the back of her thighs and behind her knees, before offering sliding caresses until she stopped the progress of his fingers. She could have lost it so quickly if he had been encouraged to continue. Only, Alain had spoken out as if as one with her thoughts and desires.
'I,' he began, uncertain of just how to proceed, 'I can't think straight sometimes knowing what you've been through. You shouldn't be alone here in the house, not a woman like you and that as your nephew...family, I'm the only real company for you.' His voice trailed off as he thought through what else to say. She heard him sigh, as if concerned about how it would be taken, what else he had to confess. 'I should not feel what I feel and want from you.'
She had taken some steps away from him, but the few words that they had spoken, the offer of a touch, and then their kisses had brought them to a new place in their ways with each other.
'Alain?' she asked, in a small voice, dismayed by the change in his behaviour and how they were with each other.
'Be with me, love with me now?'
'You, you are crazy boy,' she had countered as Alain stopped her at his door, his arms soon around her waist and she had to still the progress of his hands as they cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing lightly over her hardening nipples. She had felt the heat in his breaths and shivered on feeling him press against her. She had known that his arousal matched what she felt, the ache of wanton longing making her concede to all that Alain did and that she had known could only be stilled by conceding to his claims upon her.
♥
Why should she not be taken to bed?
Melanie knew that her body needed release from her unresolved frustrations, and that fingering her clammy pussy, with two fingers, was no substitute for those of a man bringing her to a shattering orgasm. She had thought, often enough, of Alain's hands bringing that to her, better still his penis parting the lips of her pussy and plumbing her. Just to think of her nephew, so strong and vibrant, was enough to bring her on. All that they shared would remain their secret.
Now, as he held her against him in the dim light of her bedroom, she felt his hands fondle her soft naked breasts and slowly progress over the rounded firmness of her belly and push under the hem of her panties, to tug on coarse hair, before his fingers eased down over her parted lips, his touches slow and confident.
'Let me...let me take them off,' she gasped and pushed his hands away. She performed a little act of strip tease for him as Alain tore away his clothes and she took in his slender youthful body, what he would bring to her.
