1
Fenna knew that she had been taken out of her only to ordered world by Paul, her nephew. Their relationship had become a torrid affair that defied all reason and knew of little restraint.
She stood again on her balcony and waited for him to appear, the checkered roof of his Mini unmistakable, the time that she could expect him made known. He had called but an hour or so ago when she had arrived home after her day at school, music lessons completed. She darted in and out to make sure their supper wouldn’t spoil.
It would be their last night together, the offer for him to stay as he managed an environment, or milieu, project in the area, ending on schedule and a reason for him to leave her. But his absence would not be as before; he had become her lover and the shared pleasure discovered, that first night, had overwhelmed them, it now seemed, ever since. The woman she had thought herself to be, so controlled and not given to wayward or promiscuous behaviour, had become someone else. His passion to know of her had been met by ardour quite her own. It had been suppressed, nothing more.
His devoted attentiveness had overcome all of her reservations and stroked her vanity. For him, raw physical instincts had overcome reason, what anyone else might consider decency and propriety. The music teacher, that she was, had fallen for the pupil; if the labels could be used to describe their relationship, which of course they couldn’t. She was fifty-three, he nearing thirty, both grownups and extremely aware of the pitfalls of the relationship they had embarked upon. None of that lessened the intensity of feelings they aroused in each other.
She sighed, as much out of dismay at him being late as for how complicit she had become in the affair that had burst open like a spring flower on feeling the sun’s warmth. Her sister’s, Femke’s, boy had become a lustful and attentive lover of her. The boundaries to what had been their ordered world had been shattered. What had been pursued possessed her thoughts once more.
After two nights in her bed, and Paul’s possession of her body and mind, she had no wish to see him go. Their times together had suspended reality or what had once passed for normality, and she could not be bothered with those distinctions any more. Passion might yet give way to them reaching an agreement, or an ‘accommodation.’ Theirs would be an affair like no other, and their physical needs would quell the instincts of love and companionship that others drifted into and would have, as a consequence…co-habitation. It was what he had lost with his girlfriend, Paul had told her. She had broken every rule; there was no way back from that, nor did she regret her submission to his ways nor her pursuit of them once their affair had been fully consummated. . Had she become a surrogate for all of that when they had met again, and the opportunity to live things out differently had been pursued by him?
No, it couldn’t be that.
They had each wanted to live out their moments together as never before; no more or less. She wanted him, a lustful young man, and he was in thrall to what she brought to his sight and touch, her clothes different now from what she always wore to classes. The passionate woman, that Paul had made her feel, was always clothed modestly for her work, but not now.
She had dressed for her lover, their shared lust prevailing over everything else; like the sharing of meals, playing the piano and talking of shared interests, going to the concert last night and being in each other’s company as never before. It felt as if all that they did were interruptions, or intervals, in their times of loving; from what he sought of her and that she was willing to share and pursue. In short, she craved the attention that he paid to her and that she understood might soon be ended, more by force of circumstances than what they might each wish to happen.
But a lie could not be lived forever, by either of them.
2
‘You didn’t play it just to please me,’ she told him before moving away, a parting brush of her fingertips over his neck enough to draw Paul’s attention to her once more.
‘No…and being here with you gave me a reason to practice, so we could play duets as we once did.’ He smiled at her, a quick movement of one hand brushing away his hair, before he looked down at the keys and resumed playing his chosen piece.
Fenna wound his clock once more, dressed as she was in a flouncy Batik print blouse, in broken blue and white patterns, with billowy sleeves and worn loose over a pair of navy-blue slacks, her bare feet poking out from under its hems. He was captivated by her sense of style, nothing overdone and enough to catch the eye. He wondered how he’d get through the days after they split. The feeling would cut both ways.
‘Don’t stop…it sounds good, rhythmic,’ she called out to him.
‘I won’t go on much longer. I’d like to go to the kermis before it’s gets much later…’
‘I hoped you’d forgotten….’
‘No, it’s a different kind of fun,’ he smiled and pouted a kiss her way. ‘I won’t scare you too much with the rides we choose…’
‘You choose, you mean…’ She had met his smile and waved her hand indicating that he should continue.
Fenna watched him play once more, choosing to sit in a favoured armchair that offered her a sight of his technique without becoming overbearing and intrusive. The line had to be carefully drawn. Experience at school had taught her, long ago, that a student’s keyboard technique faltered when they felt themselves to be unduly pressured. The keys on her piano were muted, and the instrument placed on a thick patterned rug, so as not to cause undue disturbance to her neighbours.
Fenna listened patiently, but the teacher and mentor in her soon had her seated by his side and she showed him what she sought of his playing, the moments of tuition not distracting her from the look she knew was on her as she played, her hair hanging down and hiding her face from view as she played.
‘Did you take that in?’ she asked, sitting up suddenly, exasperation in her tone. ‘I do know how you feel about me, Paul…don’t overdo it…please?’
He simply nodded in reply to that. ‘Come on, let’s go to the kermis? The street fair will be gone tomorrow, just as I will, so let’s make a night of it?’
She had seen him look at his watch and knew that it was too early for them to tumble into bed and pursue what was never far from their minds, and Paul’s in particular. His enthusiastic and uninhibited ways would not be restrained by anything she said.
He made her feel reckless and wanted; his passionate delight in what she brought, to his sight and touch, not to be denied to him and that she, as if the goddess of bounty, would soon bestow her riches upon him once more….before the night was out.
3
They had made a night of it and Fenna wondered, as she opened the door to the apartment, whether she would still have the confetti in her hair tomorrow when she would be at work once more. They had ridden the Ferris wheel, had been bumped and shaken on the dodgem rides; shouted and gasped in fear and dismay that they had agreed on it, to share the terror of the flying swing and then the more sedate rug slide. They’d snacked on candy floss, shared a hot cocoa and run a confetti gauntlet, behaving like kids and holding hands for an instant to encourage the other along.
‘Peace, of a different kind now…’ she smiled up at him as Paul stood by her shoulder, an arm around her waist and his touches leaving her in no doubt what Paul now sought of her and that she was willing to give.
On shared kisses, and laughter, they were soon in her bedroom, had dragged the clothes off each other, each pushing away questing hands and delaying the moment when they would again be naked in each other’s arms. They soon stood naked for each to delight in what they brought to sight and mind.
‘See what you’ve made of me…someone who can’t get enough of you!’ She had met his questing touches and lingered in his embrace before tumbling into bed, each seeking dominance in their urgent claims upon each other.
‘There’s no one else like you!’ he called out to her as Fenna knelt by his side and worked him with her mouth and fingers, the gentle, insistent, squeeze on his sac so arousing; the brush of her fingernails over his trembling length making him lift his hips to meet her touches, kisses and licks.
‘And thinking of you, after being like this, won’t be enough for me…’ Her kisses had traced a path over his body until she pressed her lips to his mouth, felt Paul’s gentle caresses as her breasts swept over his chest. ‘What you do to them is beyond wonderful…’
She brought them to him, did so without restraint or embarrassment with what she sought of him. She was determined, even aggressive, in her behaviour and slowly swept her breasts and hard nipples over his chest, urging him to take each in his mouth and to have him suck on them, his mouth wide and his tongue caressing her nipples and as his lips sucked down over the heavy tumble of freckled skin.
‘Sorry…but I love them…what you bring to me.’
‘Don’t be sorry…you make me feel wanted,’ she replied, looking into his eyes before moving to kiss him; lifting one leg over his waist before she straddled his hips. Fenna fingered her slit and knew that she could take him. They would dispense with the preliminaries they had pursued at other times. ‘Through every moment of loving with you, I’ve felt wanted…have become someone else.’
Instead of answering, Paul pulled her to him for a long, deep, greedy, open-mouthed kiss, her hands pinching his chest but failing to stop his hungry mouth and tongue on her. Fenna lifted her hips and trapped his penis against her slicked opening, parted her lips before she pressed him into her and slowly settled; whimpered softly as she rocked forward and back and felt how he again stretched and filled her. She held him, worked her muscles to trap him as Paul’s movements fully claimed her and their pursuit of loving ways began once more.
‘What can I do…what can I do when you’re not with me?’ she gasped, dismayed to have that destructive thought enter her mind at a moment such as this.
Fenna looked down into his face and saw recognition of what she had just said. She had grown to demand it be this way when they fucked; to have him concede to her freedom to do what she wanted with him, the range of movements and the sense of control that he had given to her.
She gripped his hands and rocked and tugged, thrust her hips forward and tugged as she leant back and give him new pleasures, to stretch his penis as she worked it, her breasts waying in a mesmerising jerking rhythm that he chose not to stop. She heard his soft gasps of pleasure and shared the emotion with him.
‘You’re so deep in me, now…so wonderfully deep!’
She let go of one hand and rubbed at her clit; pricked her fingers to the base of his shaft as she sought to hasten the approach of her orgasm and heighten the intensity of it.
‘Fenna! Oh Fenna…woman!’
What she did to his prick, wrapped so tightly and worked in frenzied tugs, was too much; her soft gasps of effort and the pleasure discovered becoming one drawn out moan. It felt as if she’d tear it off him or would bend and stretch it to pursue positions with him that he’d never fully explored before or had been brought to him. She was oblivious to the caress of his hands t her body, the clamp on her breasts, the tug on her shoulders to bring her down to him for a kiss.
‘Where can I go with this, you darling?’ she gasped, her fingers digging into his chest as she bucked and rocked on him, unrelenting and purposeful.
‘You’re in my life as never before!’
She knew it too, destructively so, but pressed her fingers to his lips to silence him, eased in her claims for an instant and kissed him. She knew the rage of competing emotions; those of love and lust, restraint and utter abandon. They moved together on the bed, his feet thrusting into the sheet as he bucked his hips to meet her downward tamps as they pursued the pleasure that that heated flesh, and movements, brought to them.
‘Paul! What have you done to me?’ Her cry echoed in the room as her orgasm overwhelmed her and she shook; convulsed as he remained buried so deep within her.
They rolled over and he pushed up Fenna’s legs and thrust into her body in a lustful frenzy. He gave her no respite as they made love, behaved like demons aware of what the morning would bring.
‘Fenna…oh Fenna!’ His penis ached from her wanton, wrenching, claims upon it and what he sought to bring to her.
‘Lose it all…cum in me and let me know what you feel!’
Paul drove into her, forcefully and quickly; slammed his hips against her thighs as he pushed them up and away from his driving hips. He felt his sac tighten and his penis swell, Fenna’s muscles no longer clamping as they had done at the start. She’d be wasted after this, and so would he, as they sought to blot out the reality…that they would part and what passed for normality between then would return, somehow.
‘Woman! Fenna…oh…oh, woman!’
His hands gripped her breasts and he put his mouth to them as his insides became a boiling sea of emotion and sensation. He shot his unconfined lust into her in shuddering jerks of his body; loosed ropes of semen into her as she climaxed again, the clamps of her arms and legs, the pinch and caress of her fingers on his heaving body, keeping him to her, their snatched kisses in time with their claims upon each other..
She groaned in dismay at what had been so tempestuously shared with him and that had been so lustfully expelled into her. They had loved in the shower, so early in the morning and before they had each gone to work, she kneeling to take him until he’d shot his load onto her breasts, her throat and she’d tasted it on her lips. She’d been taken out of all known reality and had wondered how she could have fallen so far in playing up to his fantasies of bedding her. She ached from their loving; she couldn’t get enough of this wild departure from her ordered world; her promiscuous ways matched by his vitality and un restrained energy.
‘What am I to do…what am I to do about this? You waste me with what you ask and do with me!’
‘It’s loving…in our ways of it, Fenna…you wonder…you beautiful wonder.’
Now, in her bed, Fenna clung to him. She wouldn’t let him go and wrapped his body with her arms and legs and continued to move in harmony with him as the passion and longing for each other slowly ebbed away. On a soft gasp, he fell in upon her, heard Fenna’s sharp intakes of breath as his mouth found her breasts and he sucked upon their aching tips.
‘I haven’t been able to get enough of you…not for a moment,’ he kissed, his hot breaths making her shiver. She stroked his back in languorous sweeps of her hands to his warm skin before clenching his buttocks and pulling him to her
‘I know darling, but we have to find a way through. You know that don’t you?’
Her body ached, her thighs slicked with what he had expelled in those searing rushes, three or was it four times. She held him to her as she had never held a lover before, as if out of consolation for the loss of these moments that they knew would be upon them in only a few hours. Paul, her nephew, had brought upon her long and exhausting orgasms that seemed to have continued, gone on and on. She had strayed from all known ways between them, but she had soon discovered that she had wanted it to be that way.
Paul lay back, Fenna shivering as he finally withdrew from her and they lay against each other in a loose embrace, possessed by the lethargy of their spent passion; the consummation once more of a forbidden love.
Fenna heard a softening in his voice ad she lifted a hand to silence him, moved to kiss him and to look into his eyes.
‘Don’t say it…say the word, Paul…please? It’s not the right one, even if I know what you mean by it…’
She now moved to turn off the bedside light, felt the sweep of his hand over her belly and then breasts as Paul drew her against him. She wanted to fall asleep and do that quickly, not wishing to think of what the morning would bring.
4
‘Have I been a distraction, or a change from someone else who is in your life?’ Paul asked it in a matter-of-fact tone of voice and saw Fenna’s look upon him grow still and her features slacken. ‘I’d understand it…haven’t been able to really believe that a woman as attractive and clever as you does not have a partner, or lover…’
Fenna looked at him for a moment with stilled eyes. She then gripped his outstretched hand as if to draw strength from it for what she had to tell him.
‘Frans is an airline pilot and he’s away a lot. We drift in and out of each other’s lives…there’s no real order to it.’
‘Much the same as we have done, Fenna…’
‘Until I asked you to stay and everything that we’ve done followed on from that…’ Her fingers now brushed his cheek to make him look at her. ‘Once, a look, or a touch, they were enough to let each other know what we felt. That’s all changed in the time that you have been here. The problem, for me, is that I don’t know where to go with this…what is between us and has happened. Being close has taken on a new meaning…’
‘But doesn’t make it right?’
Fenna paused to think on how to answer him on that. ‘Morals never got in the way, Paul…but that’s not what others will say or think if they found out….’
‘Then we keep it a secret, and I am with you whenever you need that, and our consciences allow. I can’t let go of it, or you, now…what we’ve found. I’ll let a few days go by before I call you and hope that I can still do that…whether we remain lovers or return to how it once was between us. As you’ve just said, ‘once, a look, a touch, they were enough’…but not anymore.’
She met his parting kisses and clung to him. A sense of doing right, by others, crashed against what she felt on seeing him leave her. Too much had happened; too much had been shared for them to truly go back to how it had once been. Paul had wanted the woman she was, not just the woman he saw and lusted after. Strangely, the distinction had taken a hold in her, too, and where it concerned him.
As two people, they had changed because of one another.
♥