(Sequel to ‘So Much More than a Memory’)
1
To any casual observer they made for an unlikely couple, she so much older than the man she was seen dancing with; their cares forsaken, and the two of them enjoying each other’s company.
‘It’s as well we decided to come here and celebrate,’ Alain smiled as he held Mélanie close to him, ‘or people will talk. The beautifully made woman with her young man.’
‘Let them,’ she retorted, loving his compliment, her smile radiant and her look upon him unwavering. ‘Fond’ was but one word to describe how she felt about her nephew, a young man who had taken her out of an only too ordered world and had become her accomplished and breathtakingly energetic lover. It defied all logic that a clever and good-looking guy wanted her, but there were moments when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. ‘I haven’t had so much fun for a long time…’
‘In public, anyway,’ he laughed captivatingly, his eyes never leaving her. His mouth was close to her lips. ‘I’m glad that I’ve been the one to make it happen again for you…’
The dancing, frolicking, crowd on the promenade, all around the bandstand, shielded them and she pressed her body to him, one hand on his hip. She felt his prick press against her belly.
‘Alain?’
‘Yes, I want you…love how the dress shapes you. There’s so much to enjoy with you…to kiss and to touch.’
Mélanie gripped his hand a little tighter and also clutched his shirt with the other as they jigged and turned to the music in a folk dance, of sorts, known in this part of Normandy. The change in scene, from her home in Caen, was like going on holiday together, even though they had not travelled so far.
‘You’ll soon be gone from me…your studies are over. So, why should you stay here?’
‘Be still on that, Mel…please?’
‘It’s not so easy…not to, or to close out the thought of you leaving me.’
They had kept their affair a close secret and had succeeded in doing that for close on four months, a time that he had spent completing his degree and had graduated. His folks, from Paris, would be pleased to have him living with them while he took up his new career.
Their celebration of dinner, and then to be swept up into the dancing and mingling with the crowds could not cover the tinge of sadness that their times together would soon be at an end, or severely curtailed. How was travelling to Caen to see her not give a hint that something else between them had played out and continued to do so?
Right now, he felt like the moth attracted to the flame. The woman’s body, that he held, and knew so well, had been hurt by abandonment. He’d done more than ease the hurt and sense of loss. To his dismay, Mélanie took so much more from how it had become between them.
Jeez, how he loved her ways and working of him, but he had gently warned her that the emotional bond that they had stoked so feverishly, should not overwhelm the reality. Yes, he would soon be out of her sight, but not gone from her mind. It cut that way for him too.
‘Love can be selfish…Mel, you wonderful woman…so lustful and passionate,’ he said against her parted lips as they took in each other’s look.
An unrequited, and unspoken, infatuation for her had flared into a tempestuous affair. Melanie’s lodger, and nephew, becoming her lover and who often slept in her bed, or she in his, smaller as it was. The pass door between his small apartment in a wing of her house, was no longer locked and the creak of the floorboards announcing that either he, or she, were intent on being there. The illicit nature of their relationship only inflamed the senses and aroused a surge of unquenchable desire.
‘I’ll get some rest,’ she said on a wobbly smile, rising to whisper it again in his ear and to offer a moment’s suck on his earlobe.
She felt rejuvenated by his passionate and demanding attention upon her, whenever his studies and exams allowed. Her voluptuous body was a provocation to him, so often to be seen in a cotton, sleeveless tank top along with billowy slacks and her auburn hair wild. Her glittery earrings would be seen swaying as she moved, her painted toenails poking out from under the hem of her slacks, or jeans, or sandals when she dressed for work. Then, a skirt would reveal strong thighs and toned calves. At home she dressed for him and would often stand by his side as he worked, and she’d brought him a drink. At such times she would feel his hand slip under her skirt or dress and caress her skin.
He’ would often turn on his seat and hold her to him, slide his hands over the backs of her thighs then round, and onto her belly, his thumbs gently pricking into her cleft and to press into her slowly and rhythmically.
She’d tear herself away. ‘Work now…we have all night for that!’ They did. She wondered how they managed to love so often, and in the hours available to them.
‘What are you thinking of now? You’ve drawn in on yourself…Mel.’
‘I was thinking of us…how it has become between us…how you’ve made me feel, and how others in the family wouldn’t understand. I have trouble explaining it to myself sometimes.’
She pressed her cheek to his face and felt again the brush of his lips to her skin, the pricking of his tongue tip into her ear that had her shiver in longing for him once more. His breaths and touches always had the effect of sending shivers of aberrant longing coursing through her body.
‘Take me away from here,’ she could not help but groan. ‘I need to share in a different dance with you…’
2
Her little Citroen runabout was insured for him to drive. It had been so since their affair had burned into life and had become a raging storm.
‘We’ll soon be home,’ he laughed softly, dismayed at Melanie’s behaviour.
‘Can we wait that long?’ she asked, bending closer to kiss his cheek, her hand sliding over his thigh and clamping on the swell in his trousers. ‘I…I don’t think you can…from what I feel.’
‘Don’t distract the driver,’ she saw him smile in the gloom, then as the oncoming headlights picked him out as Alain looked her way;. He stroked her thigh and brushed the fabric of her dress over her skin. He glimpsed her brazenly pull up the hem and expose her knees and thighs. ‘Melanie…Melanie…’
‘I know, it’s not the behaviour of an aunt…go on, touch me.’
She had parted her legs and taken his questing hand. It now pressed slowly the fabric of her panties, his fingers lightly pressing into her crack. She shuddered out of wanton longing from all that he again aroused in her.
‘We’ve gone way beyond that…aunt and nephew. We’re lovers…a man and woman,’ he answered, his eyes not leaving the road and the traffic that whizzed by. Melanie was working him, her fingers brushing his hair, his ears and neck. She offered soft caresses that wound his clock and made the swell of his erection uncomfortable in his trousers. He fingered it and shifted. To touch the soft skin of her thigh was to know of the moments of foreplay that always set them off, Melanie’s touch to the swell in his trousers soon matched by the slow caress to her crack, through the cotton of her panties, that she made easier by shifting in her seat. ‘You bring so much to me…’
‘And it’s your touch to them that I love…’ The heavy swell of her breasts were perfectly outlined by the clamp of the seat belt, as he brushed the back of one hand over their tips. She had heard him tell her often enough that she was a woman, not some inexperienced girl. ‘You’d better stop what you’re doing…or I’ll have to find you…work on what you bring to me for real.’
‘Auntie!’ he laughed out in faux surprise, even as she pushed his fingers into her crack after clumsily easing away the fabric of Melanie’s panties and slowly, but awkwardly, finger-fucking her. She made to grab his cock and her actions made him lose control for an instant. The car swerved. ‘We’re nearly home! Just wait with all that you do!’
‘Please wait, auntie…please wait,’ she kissed. She had unfastened her seat belt and in the gloom cast by the trees over her short driveway, Melanie shifted in her seat to kiss him. She moved so that he could finger her. She had to tear away from his hungry kisses that sucked the air from her, Alain’s tongue had gone so deep as his hands moved over her legs, her hips and then clamed on her breasts. They brushed over her nipples that he would feel through the fabric. ‘Inside…come on!’ she gasped, ‘do all of that inside…wherever you want!’
Alain did so.
As soon as the door closed behind them he pushed Melanie against the wall of the almost darkened hallway, dimly lit by a street light and that shone its eerie orange glow through the pane of glass set above the door.
‘Here…I want you here,’ he said through his hungering kisses; to her mouth, her throat, the front of her dress; his mouth closing over her breasts as he pulled up the hem of her dress.
Her emotions ran wild, and she groped for him; heard the snorts of expectation as she tugged on his belt before her hands were on him and pushed behind the waist band of his briefs and pulled his penis free. She worked him quickly. She was consumed by the rage of longing and the wildness of his ways.
‘Alain…Alain!’ she gasped through their kisses and his touches on her thighs as he stood between them and pushed his fingers against her cleft and fingered her. He felt the moisture to be found there. ‘Go on…go on… yes…there!’
She felt his hands on her thighs as she was lifted; and felt compelled to skip as he drew her up and she felt him press at her wet lips. She reached between them to guide his entry and she gasped at how quickly he plumbed her; shuddered as he filled her and began to rise and settle down on him. She felt Alain’s gorged prick plumb her and go deeper.
‘We fuck now…and we love later’ he gasped, as she was made to rise and fall.
‘Don’t talk…do it!’ She felt the scrape of the wall on her back and the fierce clamp on her buttocks as she rode him and met his snorted kisses of effort and pleasure.
‘Come on…you wonder…you slut! I want to fuck you so bad!!’
She gasped at his use of the word, but her wild concession made the word fit. The stumbled and bumped against the wall as they devastated remaining control. They could not delay their climaxes.
‘Viens…viens!’ she gasped, lifting her head to feel his mouth on her throat, then as his mouth crashed against her lips and their tongues circled and probed. She squirmed to feel his penis searching so deep inside her body, her muscles straining to work him, until…
He carried her to the stairs and finished it. Alain gripped her legs around his waist, and he pounded into her, behaved like a demented soul possessed by demons as he pushed her down on the stair treads and took her.
Her hips bucked up hard against him as he drove his penis in as far as she could take it, hit the end of its journey and withdrew, only for him to slam in again. They shared in a gasp and a scream, as his longing for her was finally expelled into her in tingling, spurting, rushes.
‘Sorry…it’s so rough and quick!’
She toiled to pull him closer and wrapped her aching legs and arms around him as she claimed all that he brought to her and his body. She wanted to crush him as he quivered and shuddered in these shared shattering moments of fulfilment.
‘Alain…you wonder…my lover…my devoted one!’
She knew not what she had called out to him, but she felt him bear his eight on his hands as he knelt over her and she felt the edge of the stair’s steps dig into her back and buttocks. Their bed of passion was as unforgiving as his ways of finding and then filling her had been.
‘Forgive me…’
‘No…no…it was all that you felt for me…for what we have found, my darling Alain. What we found is between a man and a woman. Who we are does not matter…not to me.’
It had been for her a conclusive orgasm. What might follow, before he left her, a prolonged farewell. The ferocity of his taking of her, now, declared more than words would have ever expressed. He had become lost with her, in her. He would be lost without her in these ways of it between them. For her, it was the ultimate orgasm, the surges of finding and spending had wracked her body and felt as if they would not stop. She had not known anything like it before.
Alain moved from her. He eased down the skirt of her dress, but not before he had kissed her where she had taken him, and he had her taste herself on his mouth.
‘We share in everything, you wonder…you beautiful woman. You have been so generous in what you have done for me.’
They kissed as lovers, who they were to each other in another life forsaken.
‘Lie with me…love me again. Just don’t say anything about it. That is for later.’
3
‘Melanie…are you there?’ her sister, Yvette, was heard to call out. Her voice sounded shrill with frustration.
‘Yes, I am…don’t shout, Yvette!’
Melanie pressed down on him. She felt Alain’s breaths hot to the skin of her breasts; his kisses to her breastbone, as he clamped on them, making her shiver. How the young man delighted in her and all that she brought to him.
‘Sorry…I can’t get hold of Alain. My calls go to voicemail!’
Melanie moved to get up and rest on her elbows, Alain’s penis still deep in her body. She felt as if she owned it at times like these.
‘He’s partying, I’m sure,. He’s…he’s saying goodbye to his friends…partying the hours away…if I know him.’ Her lips trembled as he lifted his head from the pillow and kissed her.
‘Yes, I suppose that’s so. Tell him, when you next see Alain, to call me. Jacques and I need to plan our trip over to you and to pick him, and all his stuff, up. We will also have time to see you again, sister…’
‘It’s been so long,’ Melanie agreed. ‘Yes, I will tell him. I will be sad to see him go. The place will not be the same without him. He has been company for me, whenever he has been around…’
She left it at that.
Melanie put her iPhone on the bedside table and lay down again upon him.
‘There’s nothing left to say on this, is there…Alain, my secret love?’
♥
She, the fleshy and outgoing aunt, going on fifty-two, had been pegged by a young man and she had loved the acts played out between them like never before. She basked in their body heat and did so in the shared belief that it would end.
The house would be sold and soon she would live smaller and see what life still held in store for her.
Her love affair with Alain had set her world aflame. Life with him, whenever they met, would not be the same and the house where she had truly lived, and loved, with him a reminder of all that she had found and then lost.
It was, after all, and for people related in the ways that they were, how the world turned. Unlikely as their affair had seemed in the beginning, the flames of passion would be quenched and not fully extinguished.
They had lived through too much for that to happen.
♥