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There Can Be Only One Ch 22

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2010-03-02


There Can Be Only One Ch 22


Sunday morning came and went. Although Ross tried to object going to church, his mother insisted. He was only too glad to be home and out of his ‘Sunday best’ clothes. Why his mother insisted they get dressed to go to church annoyed him no end. At least his mother, although well presented on the outside had accepted that she was to keep her cunt totally free from panties. A fact that allowed him to daydream which helped him get through the service.

His mother was giving Susie a lift back into town, having returned back home briefly just to get changed which left him alone in the house. Susie also argued with her mother why she could not wear jeans to church but also had to concede to her mother’s wishes.

He sat at his computer organising the latest photographs that he had taken. He regretted not taking any pictures of his mother as she sucked on the spotty geek’s cock, but at least he had quite a few of her flashing in the supermarket. He gave his erection the occasional stroke as each photo reminded him of last night’s events. He wished that his mother would hurry back…

He was tempted to wank but decided to wait ‘til his mother returned, and chose to jump onto his bed to read Susie’s diary. His cock only hardened as he read the entries…she certainly thought about sex a lot…and masturbated at least every day. Jason would not be too pleased with what she wrote about his sexual performances.

It was not a diary as such with dates on each page, more a small lined note book that Susie wrote in the date herself and then added her thoughts and the more interesting deeds of that day. There were days when no entries were made so nothing happened that warranted an entry.

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   This particular book started just two months ago. He had noticed a number 6 on the top of the first page.

He jumped up, tossing the book on his bed and went into Susie's room for a search for what he assumed to be the previous five volumes.

He had looked through all the drawers and shoe boxes that were in his sister’s room and was just about to give up when he saw the old red weekend case in the bottom of her walk in closet. He had wondered what the small key in an envelope tucked in the back of her bra drawer was…along with her three vibrators and dildos.

He had found the books almost immediately, amongst all the other sexual paraphernalia that were in the case. His sister certainly was one sexy kinky bitch. He perused the contents briefly before lifting the book marked 1…there would be plenty of time to examine the contents of the case later. He tried to put everything back in their original place before leaving his sister’s room.

He had just jumped back on his bed with the little book…this one similar to the other but slightly larger in size but not as thick…when he heard the front door shut and his mother shout out his name.

Cursing the timing of his mother’s return, and yet pleased that his now flaccid cock could get some female attention, he popped the two books under his pillow and rose to go meet his mother.

===============================

Ross had just left his room when his mother drew alongside him. She smiled.

“Give me a few minutes to change and I will get us something to eat” she spoke softly and continued to walk on to her room.

Ross turned and followed her.

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“Ross…?”

“I just wanted to be with you mum” replying to the questioning look upon his mothers face.

“But sweetheart…I have to change”

“Don’t let me stop you” he smiled as he threw himself upon his parent’s double bed.

Alice Gorman just looked at her son for a full minute debating her next move, but realising that anything other than doing as her son wanted was futile. With an exasperating sound and without breaking her stare she removed the black jacket and laid it neatly on the foot of the bed.

As her fingers started to undo the buttons of her white blouse she blushed slightly. Not because she was ashamed of her body, nor was it because she was feeling the embarrassment of removing her clothes in front of her young son, but because she could feel the state of arousal her body. She could no longer look directly into her son’s eyes.

==============================


Alice stood over the pan, stirring the scrambled eggs not believing what she had just done.

Her tongue slid along her lips, recalling how not thirty minutes ago they had held her son’s cock as she allowed him to fuck her mouth. Her free hand squeezed her left buttock through her robe, and gently pulled her cheek apart, as she had done with both hands earlier, exposing her puckered asshole to the gaze and probing finger of her son as she knelt on the edge of the bed.

She shuddered as her son’s tongue licked that most dirty of places…her mind crying out for him to stop…and yet her hands pulling her cheeks further apart to allow his tongue easier access to probe that tight hole.

As she popped the bread into the toaster her cunt twitched on remembering how her son had knelt behind her and pushed that hard throbbing cock deep in her cunt and fucked her hard like the slut she was…of him slapping her ass while he hurled obscenities at her…and of him sticking a finger in her ass…the most sacred and naughtiest of places on her body.

The toast popped up breaking her reminiscent daydream.

“ROSS” she shouted at the top of her voice.

Ross entered the kitchen and sat down and wolfed into the eggs on toast that was before him.

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   He looked up and smiled at his mother who smiled back at him as she drank her coffee.

“When’s Cathy coming home?” Ross spoke with a mouthful of food.

“Why. . . and don’t speak with your mouthful…” his mother rebuked him.

Ross smiled…still the mother even though he had her do all those things that most mothers most certainly do not do for their sons.

He waited until he cleared his mouth … “no reason…just wondered”

His mother looked at him suspiciously as she answered… “Mr’s Foster said she would drop her off at about 9…we weren’t expected back until this evening…remember?”

Ross nodded, continued to eat the last of his brunch as he looked at his mother deciding how he was going to keep himself amused this afternoon He smiled as if he didn’t know exactly how he was going to be kept amused.

=======================================


Alice Gorman pushed back into Ross’s body whilst he tweaked and teased her erect nipples…her own hands mechanically washing the dishes in the sink. Her eyes were gazing out of the window, hoping that her naked torso would not be noticed by the Bert Miles who was busy working in his garden.

She kicked aside the robe that lay crumbled at her feet and spread her legs further apart to allow the hand that had slid from her breast, easier access to her wanton pussy. She wondered what kind of woman she was turning into…not refusing her own son to use her most private parts as he wished. She bent her knees and pushed further back into the warm body behind her as the fingers started to strum her clitoris.

She was jerked out of her thoughts by the loud shrill of the phone.

“Ge…get that sweetie…my hands are wet” there was disappointment in her excited voice.

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“So are mine” Ross laughed as he withdrew his sticky fingers from the warm wet cavity, tasting his own mother’s cream, not making any move to answer the phone.

Alice grabbed the tea towel, wiping her hands before tossing it to her son…

“Make yourself useful pervert…dry those dishes” she blushed on embarrassing herself by calling her son a pervert…often called such by his elder sister. She had managed to calm herself before picking up the phone.

==================================

Although mad at first when he was told that his mother had offered his services to Mrs Noakes, the anger soon disappeared as he sat next to the priest’s wife as she drove him back to the church…at least she was attractive.

He couldn’t quite understand what she was talking about what he had to do…something to do with a little repair job in the confessional box. His mother had obviously bragged about his school carpentry skills. Armed with a few tools and some wood glue in small bag on his lap, he sat returning the small talk of the well dressed buxom woman that was behind the driving wheel. Somehow, the conversation took a turn and she started giving him a brief history of the church as if he was the slightest bit interested.

“The church was built around mid 13th century…”

“blah de blah de blah…boringggg” Ross thought to himself

“…once belonged to the catholic church…”

“blah de blah…god her knockers are big…” he smiled.

“…it is of important historical importance…”

“…mmm and her legs are not that bad…

“…amongst other things they were not allowed to make structural alterations or even remove the confessional box…”

“…yeah… yeah…god I would love to fuck that mouth of yours…”

“…don’t you think? . . . Ross…Ross…”

“Uh. . .

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   sorry Mrs Noakes missed that?”

“Sorry…must have bored you…we are here anyway” she smiled that wonderful smile, as she pulled around the back of the church and parked.

Grabbing the tools he followed the shapely woman through the back door of the church and into the small alcove where the wooden confessional box of ‘national importance’ was located. Why they would want to keep an oak cupboard was way beyond Ross’s understanding.


Mrs Noakes opened the wooden door to the priest’s section, reached across, turningand handed Ross a slightly oval wooden knot about 2”in diameter. She stepped aside and pointed into the box.

“This has fallen out and needs gluing…I think”

Ross stepped around and entered clutching the wooden bung in his hand. It would appear that it was just a simple case of applying a little glue to the knot and hole and popping it back into place.

He sat down on the small wooden bench and looked at the hole…about 3” below the small wooden panel that was able to slide open.

“Looks like a glory…” he stopped himself

“Looks like a glory…what’s a glory?” the woman’s voice seemed to float in the vast open space

Ross blushed as he looked directly at the woman who was staring at him. . . he was struggling to think of what he could say next…

“What’s a glory?” the soft voice repeated

“A glory hole” he managed to stutter out

“A glory hole…never heard of it… What’s that?”

He might as well continue…his face now beamed in the dim light of the confessional.

“It’s…it’s a hole where a guy…you know…puts his…you know through it”

Mrs Noakes looked confused…

“Puts what through where…why?”

“Go into the confessional Mrs Noakes. ” Ross was thinking of a way to explain what a glory hole was without too much more embarrassment…at least if she was out of sight she wouldn’t see him beam.

Mrs Noakes threw a puzzled look at the seated youth but did as he bade.

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   She entered, not sure what to expect but knelt down as there was no seat on her side, jumping slightly on hearing the thwack as the small panel slide back.

“Feels like I should be confessing my sins here” she laughed

“Ohh…you have sins to confess too?” Ross quickly retorted

It was Claire Noakes turn to blush, for out of the blue shot the image of the outline of Ross’s cock, hard and erect showing through his shorts when she visited his mother’s house last Saturday. A sight that she could not get out of her mind as her sleeping husband snored next to her in bed that evening. Her thoughts that night were not those that should be entertained in the mind of the respectable wife of a priest.

“That would be telling” she quipped back…” Now what’s a glory hole?”

Ross tried to choose his words carefully.

“Imagine we are in public toilets…and you are in the ladies and I am in the gents”

“Uh uh…ok”

“Well if they were adjacent walls, the guy would stick his…um…penis…through and well…the woman would…”

“What?”

Ross could not believe this…she was having him on surely.

“You know…touch…or suck on his …”

It went quiet next door. Ross peered through the small wooden panel.

Claire Noakes was truly an innocent. She married her childhood sweetheart and the first time she had left the small Shetland village was to be with her husband on his first and only posting. She had heard of such things but quickly pushed them to the back of her mind blanking out such obscene images.

Sex between her and her husband no longer happened…having conceived her second child some 18 years ago, they had stopped making love. She had occasionally masturbated …and on those occasions had experienced orgasms beyond belief…but guilt prevented her from doing it more often.

“You mean…the man would…and the woman would…” She swallowed unable to continue as she tried to imagine the scene. She had of course heard of oral sex.

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  . . only through what she read in the newspapers…but never would she have thought of it being done in so cold mannered fashion.

She leaned slightly back so she could get a better view of the hole that was level with her face and let her finger run around the inside of the hole…it felt smooth. Without thinking she slid her whole finger in. She felt funny as her vagina started to itch.

Ross sat back as he watched the small index finger feel the edge and then push through. It circled a couple of times before being disappearing. He was a little confused…. was she having him on…leading him on???

He slipped his finger through the hole.

Claire’s eyes widened and she gave a small gasp on seeing the finger poke through her side of the wall. The finger remained motionless.

Her mind confused and as if her hand was not her own, she gently grasped the tip of the finger in her own two fingers and thumb as if picking up a grape. The contact sent a shiver right through her body. She let her two fingers slide up and down the protruding digit.

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   She released the finger a few seconds later as she felt it try to pull back through. Her mouth watered for some reason and she dragged her tongue across her lips.

That as far as Ross was concerned was the green light. Rising from his seated position he eased his cock from the leg of his shorts and popped the semi hard flesh through the hole. He heard a loud gasp.

He was thinking he had blown it when he just stood there with his pelvis thrust hard against the oak panel when nothing happened the other side. He was just about to withdraw his cock, which was now starting to lose what stiffness it did have, when he felt what must have been a finger tip touch half way down his shaft.

Claire Noakes was surprised when she saw the finger being replaced by the penis. She had never seen one this close before…besides her son’s and she hadn’t seen that since he was 5. Sex with her husband had always been a quick on off missionary affair…which she assumed to be the only way respectable people made love.

She stared at the penis a long time before she succumbed to her desire to touch it. That first touch made her vagina itch again…she also noticed the cock twitch on her touch.

She cant remember how her touch from a single finger to her holding the fully erect cock in her hand came about but here she was sliding her hand up and down the penis… hearing Ross moan next door. She couldn’t believe she was masturbating a penis for the very first time in her life.

She liked it…her vagina felt as if a thousand small fingers were running over it…she gripped the cock harder causing the owner of the cock to yelp.

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   Relaxing her grip slightly, she apologised and continued to give what she assumed to be pleasure to the youth, based on his soft moans.

What she was doing and where she was doing it were lost as if she in a trance … one that was so pleasurable. She did not even notice that her free hand was rubbing her crotch through her dress and panties.

She stopped moving her hand and glanced up to where she would see the face if it were not behind the wood panel…she was not sure she heard right. She looked down at the cock held in her hand and back up to the hidden voice as it spoke the words again. This time there was no mistaking what was said.

There was only a brief pause before her head dipped and her lips opened.

Her left hand had moved from the pussy she was still not consciously aware of rubbing and now supported her as the cock she held as close to the base as she could with her right hand moved back and forward between her lips.

She was sucking on the penis but unsure if she was doing it right…but once again judging by the moans the other side of the partition she must be doing okay.

She was not ready when the first spurt of semen shot out causing her to choke and her reactions were not quick enough to divert the pumping penis away from her face, although by the time the cock just oozed out its last remaining drops she had managed to point it downwards.

She could feel the cum slide down her cheek and chin and watch as the thick goo land between the cleavage of her breasts. She felt the now deflating penis shrink from between her fingers and disappear through the hole.

Ross popping his spent cock back in his shorts came around to look at the kneeling woman in the small wooden booth.

“Smile” … Ross had taken three quick photos by the time the vicars wife realised what he was doing. His own smile broadened knowing that he now had another female to add to his collection.

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===============================

Ross ignored the driver’s pleas all the way back home. He looked at the small damp spots on her dress where his cum had dropped. He looked at the pretty face, clean of his sticky deposit. He had let the crying wife clean her face and tits in the church lavatory. He of course had insisted to be in there with her as she sponged between those massive mammaries…even helping her hold the vee of her neckline apart as she did so. Of course he helped himself to a feel of those magnificent alabaster orbs. His camera was not idle either.

Claire Noakes knew that this was only the start. He had not said as much but knew that he intended on using the pictures that he had taken as blackmail so he could get more oral sex…probably more. She felt a shiver run up and down her spine.

How could she have done such a thing…and she knew that she would be made to take his cock in her mouth again as he insisted that the knot be just pushed back in place and not glued.

What confused her more were what were the answers to Ross’s questions as to who was using the glory hole…for he did point out some darker stains on the oak panelling…both sides of the partition…surely it cannot be what he is suggesting…


Comments on or about the story very welcome and suggestions as to where you want the story line to go may be sent to my e-mail addy. Nastymann@hotmail. co. uk



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