Mother’s Secret

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Blonde

Common sense, and eventually our own experience, tell us that even when we have become adults our parents are probably still having sex. Yet it remains uncomfortable to confront; on the whole we prefer not to think about it. That was certainly true in my case – until the day I came upon the clearest possible evidence of my mother’s very active sexual existence, and not only with my father. The evidence was in her own words. Fortunately, I believe, I didn’t make the discovery until after her death,

If I told you my mother’s name you might recognise her as a highly respected writer, the author of a series of biographies of women famous in the arts – Jane Austen, Isadora Duncan, Clara Schumann, Emily Bronte among others. The books were critically acclaimed but hardly lucrative. However, under another name my mother wrote novels which almost always made the best-seller lists, To describe them as erotic fiction would be an exaggeration but her heroines were never virgins, at least not by the end of the book. I did suggest to her once that some of her writing must surely have been based on personal experience, but she merely smiled without replying. Neither before nor after I met my husband did she discuss sex with me. I was no innocent when I married but what I knew had not been learned at my mother’s knee.

Her death at the age of sixty-two, which was sudden and unexpected, left me curiously unmoved. I mourned, of course, but out of respect and gratitude rather than any deeper feeling. My father, twenty years her senior, was in a care home where he needed round-the-clock attention. As the only child, I was both the main beneficiary of her will, and, with the family solicitor, an executor, too. Writers accumulate a great deal of paper: manuscripts, notebooks and letters in addition to the mundane documents of any household. The solicitor had a practice to tend, which meant that I was left to sort what should be preserved, what destroyed.

I had been working my way through a particularly untidy filing cabinet when I came across the diaries. Not knowing that she had kept any kind of daily record, I opened one at random and read:

22nd Monday. The hotel. Still can’t believe K and I can walk in at three pm as tho’ we’re a married couple. Keep expecting polite word from the manager. Fucked nearly all afternoon, only brief rests. K at his cleverest, both ways. Meant to count my o’s but forgot so must have been v special. P wanted full details when I returned and was v aroused so came quickly and copiously in my mouth.

Was I surprised? Shocked? Disgusted? I can no longer remember. But now, more than two years after the original impact, I believe I have my thoughts in some kind of order. After long consideration, I decided it was important not to be judgemental. By the time I had read everything, I knew that no one had been hurt, no one had been coerced. Everyone, including my father – referred to throughout simply as P – had consented, by inference enthusiastically. Indeed, my only conclusion was that everyone had found the encounters highly erotic and intensely satisfying. Unorthodox, certainly, but who really knows the private thoughts and actions of others’ lives? Were my parents so extraordinary or are there many others who savour the delights of unconventional coupling? Tantalisingly, she does not record how they came to this way of life. The journals are simply a record of what happened, who did what to whom and how.

My one dilemma was what to do with the diaries; there were ten in all, closely written in hard-backed notebooks. They dealt only with sexual matters over a period of more than twenty years, although there were many gaps. Had my mother been an anonymous housewife, I would have burned them. But she was a famous author. Perhaps posterity has a right to know. Today they may still be shocking to some minds, but attitudes change and who can say what view future generations may hold?

For the moment all ten volumes are locked away in a bank strong box. I have decided to publish a selection of extracts here to test reaction. I hope that anyone who reads them will let me have their opinion before I make the final decision.

Clearly, my mother was keeping the diaries out of some personal compulsion. They are written in little more than extended note form, far removed from the fluent style of her books. I have my own theories – and in bahis firmaları some cases certainties – about the identity of several of the others, male and female, who feature. Some are still alive so it would be unthinkable to identify anyone. However, where I have felt it necessary, I have added a note for clarification.

In contrast to the restraint of her published work, my mother’s vocabulary in the diaries is basic and explicit. There is some evidence that this was reciprocated – or perhaps requested – by many of the men and women with whom she became involved, It seems probable, too, that there was an element of self-stimulation.

Her frequent use of abbreviation can be confusing but, having become familiar with all ten volumes, I can offer the following guide:

a – arse ah – arsehole b – bottom c – cock or cunt, depending on context cl – clitoris d – dick f – fuck mb – masturbate mbn – masturbation o – oral p – penis, prick ts – tits v – vagina

************************

Thursday 8th. Grouchy mood. Curse, day 4 – L says he doesn’t mind but I do. Too messy. Clear anyway by week-end with L. [L was a solicitor mother met through her agent; their relationship was sexual, not professional] Snapped at P, then apologised, curse is the problem. P suggested mb. He watched me then did himself, used my knickers to come. My o not v good but less tense afterward.

Sat 10th. With L to Bond St for lingerie. Special upper room for exclusive items. Chose two matching bra-knicker sets in black and ivory. L insisted French knickers, also bought peep-hole bra and crotchless ks. Wore these leaving shop. Afternoon fucking at hotel, quick and vigorous after week’s abstinence. Big o’s for both. Slept then long o session before bath. Evening to blue movie cinema – L a member – but not v enjoyable. Sat back row but pestered by men trying to grope my ts. One on his knees to see up my skirt, saying Give us a show, darling. Soon left, expensive dinner, then back to hotel. L’s hand up my skirt in taxi and again under table in bar. More of same in lift and corridor until back in room threw off clothes and had best f for ages, c v wet, L’s p hard for amazing time. He says afternoon f gives him total control later. Huge o. Leisurely f in morning then home to show P new undies and relate dirty details while P attended to himself.

[These are the two earliest entries. They begin so abruptly, as though continuing an earlier account, it is impossible not to think there may have been one or more earlier diaries I haven’t found. Lost? Destroyed? I simply don’t know.]

Friday 14th. Dear P gives blessing to L’s party plan, knowing my pleasure in occasional group sessions. Show appreciation by giving him lollipop, blouse open so last second withdrawal lets him squirt on my ts. [Lollipop seems to have been their pet term for fellatio – obviously a great favourite of my father’s.]

Saturday 15th. Party at big house in Surrey. Nine couples, many masked tho I recognise two MPs and wives plus TV newsreader with husband. Three rooms in use, large drawing room downstairs with porn video on TV plus two bedrooms. Agree with L to go separate ways but meet for f later. Just one couple fucking downstairs. watched by two men stroking stiff cs. Decline invitation to join because upstairs more women than men. Soon lucky as young blonde disengages from male partner, opens arms to me. We kiss, lots of tongue. She says, Sit on me. Straddle her face, hold lips open for her tongue to probe already wet c. I lift slightly, she licks slowly from b to cl, back and forth then just on cl. Feel o coming, press down as she slips finger in my ah and I explode. Return compliment kneeling between blonde’s thighs and am myself taken from behind. About a dozen strokes, hard, with grunting, more would be good but he departs seeking another open c. Plenty to be seen. Move aside to let MP’s wife finish off young blonde while she sucks his c. In next bedroom find L and another man taking turns with voluptuous woman in state of high arousal. L fucks while his partner slides his d between woman’s heaving ts, then they change over. She asks for more until suddenly her o arrives; a great cry, long body spasms, gasping. L and I go downstairs, four couples are daisy chaining. We watch while I fondle his p, he fingers me. We fuck then separate again, me for more delicious taste of another woman’s c. Home at kaçak iddaa two a.m. sore, exhausted, v satisfied. P asleep but will want details tomorrow.

[The liaison with L lasted for more than two years during which there were many parties and much bisexual pleasure for my mother. The diaries do not reveal how or why she and L parted.

In the next extracts F is Florence, the family housemaid who eventually left to join her son and daughter-in-law in Australia. She died last year and so can be safely named.]

Tuesday 2nd. P broke the news last night that for the last few weeks he has been fucking F. Started while I was on lecture tour. P, deprived of lollipops, felt horny, propositioned F, she said yes. Pleased for him – v generous over my adventures, so why not? P says F v responsive, probably deprived at home, but worried about me. He told her no problem, would she like me to watch. F horrified but now P v taken with the idea; says F knows I always work from eight to noon, couldn’t we contrive secret watch one morning. We cook up plan.

Thursday 4th. Success! Nine-thirty, as planned, creep, stockinged feet, from my study. P has left kitchen door ajar. I have good view of action already started. F leans on work table, skirt raised, white knickers, tight over surprisingly small b. P caresses, fondles, feels. F widens legs, P fingers between. She speaks but I hear only some words: nice and wet … like last week … need this. P removes knickers, drops trousers revealing good erection. Stroking with one hand, kneels and licks – her ah, I think, then turns, slides seated on backside to get position to tongue her c. F moans loudly, says she wants to f. P starts doggie method, firm grip on hips, long, deep thrusts, not too fast, keeping control. F turns on her back, they have cushions for her b. Glimpse black pubic triangle until P steps in and eases into her. She squeals, locks legs round his back, bucks eagerly. P slows her down. Make it last, I hear him say. This small woman, fifty plus, is giving him thrilling ride. I sense climax near, creep away. Back in study, unexpectedly aroused, mbn essential. P, having finished off F, disappointed to join me too late to see me o. Agree experiment worth repeating.

[The diaries make only passing reference to how the situation developed. Mother records that father remained keen for Florence to include her in a threesome, at least to watch if not participate. Whether this ever came to fruition the diaries do not reveal.

The following extracts jump forward to the penultimate volume when father’s illness was having a serious effect on his potency; at the same time mother’s sexual appetite was undiminished. I have been unable to identify either the man, J, or the woman, S, but together they undoubtedly enriched mother’s life greatly. Introduced at a party, they seem to have exercised an immediate influence on her. Mother had already been several times to the couple’s penthouse apartment before the following extracts which give the clearest account of the relationship.]

Sunday 30th. Bleak week ahead until – hopefully – next J and S session. Determined to be resolute.

Monday 31st. No word from J and S means Saturday still all right.

Tuesday 1st. Poor P asked for lollipop but could not respond despite lengthy attempt.

Thursday 3rd. Most difficult day so far for abstinence. Woke with my hand on c, mbn v desirable but managed to refrain as promised to J and S. Only forty-eight hours now.

Friday 4th. Tried to explain J and S to P but he finds concentration difficult. Almost permanent ache in v area, wet and cl sometimes erect. Tomorrow …

Sunday 6th. J and S more brilliant than ever. Noon at penthouse. Cocktail dress, black underwear as required (memories of L so long ago). S outlines scenario: will not deal with me until five p.m. S and J will carry on as per. I can watch but no touching, them or myself, or I can leave. But if I obey as told until five – then …

Soon S begins strip for J. Pale green – bra, s belt, knickers, stockings, v high heels. J asks if wet, S shakes head. J feels, lingers. S says Please, lays across J’s lap. Long period stroking, moulding S’s a, sometimes inside knickers. Spanking begins, irregular slaps, open palm. S moaning, aroused.

Finally, J releases S, she sits beside him on sofa, extracts his c, strokes it slowly, licks tip then takes in kaçak bahis mouth. J so big S can take only half length, sucks voraciously. Rewarded with more spanking, followed by rest and drinks, excellent white wine brought by young brunette v like S. Daughter? Anyway unperturbed by S in underwear.

S wants to f. J undresses before removing S’s knickers, turns her deliberately exposing shaven c for me to see, bends her over to reveal small pink ah. S stands, turns back to J on sofa and manipulates his huge P into her with ease. Must be v wet now. J unclasps bra to show S’s firm ts and upstanding black button nipples. He reaches round squeezes, hurts slightly. She begins riding, just keeping p inside before slow descent. S and J watching me closely for reaction. Badly need touch myself but do not. S keeps J inside, reaches deep internal o with two fingers on cl. J withdraws, still erect.

More wine. S asks my most erotic memory. Tell them P with F on kitchen table. Maybe not most erotic but J strokes c, S teases nipples while listening. They f again, S on knees on rug, on back, then astride. Long, hard work-out, S’s ts bobbing, J gripping her buttocks. Again S gives herself almost private o before collapsing, perspiring heavily. J rings bell, young brunette brings towels, wipes S – ts and between legs.

Later, girl summoned again. J tells her remove my dress. Girl smiles, complies, turns me for S and J to observe, eases me forward to show knickers stretched over a. S and J make approving sounds.

Four p.m. They f once more, another o for S – this time with shudders and deep breathing. Incredibly, J still seems not to have come. My own need barely controllable.

Brunette returns, S arranges herself across J’s lap, arms hanging down. Girl takes silk ribbons, ties both wrists to J’s ankle. Girl then moves round, grasps S’s ankles, spreads them, kneels between them. J opens S’s ah with both hands on buttocks, girl licks, moistens sphincter, inserts pointed tongue. S ecstatic, no longer silent, demanding more. Girl pauses, J slaps several times, harder now. Girl resumes, two fingers in S’s c, tongue again in ah, J reaches under S, apparently finds cl; together they bring her off magnificently. Girl unties ribbons, wipes S and retires.

Five p.m. My turn at last. S places me on my back on sofa, tests wetness, not disappointed – knickers already soaking. J removes my bra, slaps my ts gently – always good for me. Puts his c in my mouth, filling me, starts fucking motion, close lips round knob to prevent gagging on huge length. Feel S move knickers aside, fingering my c, lapping my cl. Week-long build-up plus five hours voyeurism take effect. Reaching for much-needed o, J and S both stop. My hand goes for my c but J stops me. They watch me panting. I beg for release. J handles his p, S fingers herself, both smile down. Not yet.

Next I receive S’s treatment, silk ribbons, spanking, tongue and then finger in ah. Wriggle with pleasure but still more desperate for o. They understand, stop again. We continue. J fucks me doggie, finger in my ah. S produces strap-on, fucks me missionary, J slaps my ts, pinches nipples. Nearly bursting now, pleading. They agree time has come. As previous sessions, S kneels, J mounts her from rear, I take off knickers, sit on sofa, spread legs, lick fingers, attack throbbing cl and erupt. J stops driving into S, withdraws, stands, shoots all over my face and ts. Feels like biggest o ever.

We finish another bottle of wine and play again, every combination, every position, S and I multiple os, at finish J manages another stream into S’s mouth while I push discarded strap-on into my c, give myself one last o.

[There is, of course, much more. It took me a long time to come to terms with what at first seemed the debauchery, indeed the depravity, to which my mother descended. But I finally came to believe that our individual sexuality is our own to resolve to our own satisfaction as long as we harm ho one. My mother, I think, achieved that.

I still cannot decide whether the diaries should be published to portray my mother, the famous author, in the round. For the present I have decided to allow a decade from her death to elapse and consider again.

Meanwhile, before the diaries were consigned to a bank strong box, I showed them to my husband. We read them together over a period of several months, with the predictable effect – and more. I always wear black knickers for our sex sessions, and we have been experimenting with spanking. From beyond the grave, my mother has added something to my sexual development, after all.]

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