What a Difference a Day Makes

Good afternoon; my name's Mel -- well Melanie on Sundays -- and though I'm a fifty-six year old mother and grandmother, I like to think that I look far younger. I work hard to maintain my figure and my blonde hair disguises the encroaching grey; I can still draw wolf-whistles and appreciative glances from passing men, so I can't be doing too badly.

My husband George was rather older than me and died three years ago, so last year, I sold the family home -- I was rattling around in there like a pea in a drum! - and bought myself a nice apartment in a seniors development. As a bonus that downsizing enabled me to pass on some money to each of my children, so allowing them to buy bigger houses.

My daughter Alison was in particular need, as she, her husband Sean and their three boys were living in a tiny two bedroomed place; they'd only planned on two kids, but Ali had produced twins the second time around. I wasn't entirely altruistic, insisting that they bought somewhere reasonably close to my new apartment and that they allowed me to maintain the garden for them.

I've long been a keen gardener and soon after moving into my apartment I came to realise how much I missed having one of my own; a few pots and window boxes just didn't cut it. I don't know about my first proviso, but Ali and Sean had no qualms about acceding to my second; neither one of them can distinguish between a daisy, a dandelion or a delphinium, nor do they have any interest in learning to do so.

Sean undertakes any heavy digging that's needed and mows the lawns too; though not the trimming of their edges... Sean can't be trusted to expend the time and effort necessary to get those just right. Doing those edges, amongst others was what had taken me to their house on Saturday.

I normally do the gardening, while Sean and Ali are at work and the boys are in school as I prefer to work in peace. But last week had been the school's half-term holiday so the boys and either Sean or Alison had been at home for much of every day. On Saturday I had a clear run, Alison had taken the boys to a friend's house for the day and Sean was out mountain biking with his mates.

It was about two thirty in the afternoon when I rushed into the house; I was kicking off my shoes even as I arrived. I was bursting for a pee and should have come in twenty minutes earlier, but you know how it is... 'I'll just hold on and finish this job first.' Fortunately their house has a small bathroom incorporated into the utility & laundry room off the foyer to the rear door.

I stepped through the door and stopped in my tracks; surprised and confused... Not only were the lights on, but the room was steamed-up and I could hear water running. It took me only a few moments to piece things together: Sean was back from his bicycle ride and using the shower. Whoops! These things happen, time for a hasty withdrawal and a shouted apology.

Except that I didn't do either: I stood quietly in the doorway, my urgent need for the toilet momentarily forgotten, as I... took in the view. To be fair, it wasn't a very clear view; the room generally and shower screen in particular were steamed up, but I could see the outline if not the detail, of Sean lathering himself up behind it.

I knew that I shouldn't have stood there gawping, but Sean is very well... assembled and he was looking the opposite way, so hadn't noticed me. I watched for many seconds, not a full minute, but would accept that I stood there far longer than good manners or even common decency permitted, before looking away.

And that's when things became embarrassing: As I dragged my eyes away from Sean, they caught sight of the mirror above the washbasin, on the far wall. The reflection in that mirror afforded me an unencumbered and full frontal view of Sean around the end of the misty shower screen; his cock was more than half erect and his right hand was slowly sliding back and forth along its length.

That in itself might have discombobulated me, but things got worse: Sean hadn't once turned in my direction while I'd been standing in the doorway; he hadn't needed to... Sean had been watching me via the mirror all along! As if in confirmation, Sean grinned wickedly and gave me a protracted and very theatrical wink of his eye.

I squealed in dismay and rushed out, slamming the door behind me. My need for the toilet was forgotten entirely and less than two minutes later I was in my car and heading for home; I didn't even stop to put my gardening tools away. Ten minutes later I was safely in my own bathroom, my heart and breath were both still racing, while the reflection of another mirror showed my cheeks still glowing with shame.

I couldn't even hide away in my embarrassment; Sean and Alison were going out to a party themselves that evening and I'd agreed to spend the night at their house babysitting; I could put those tools away at least. I reduced my discomfiture so far as was possible, by phoning Alison to say that I was running late and not arriving until almost when they needed to leave.

I was also relieved to discover -- judging from Alison's manner -- that Sean hadn't mentioned my faux pas to her, but it wasn't a complete success: Just as they went out of the door, Sean looked back, threw me a devilish smile and another of those theatrical winks. I'm unsure which unsettled me the most, Sean's smile, or the way in which my heart and stomach both fluttered on receiving it?

Sensibly, I ought to have been safely tucked-up in bed before Sean and Alison ever returned; it was well after midnight by then. But it's a maternal thing, stemming back to when Alison was a teenager, that I can't shake off; if she goes out in the evening and I'm there, I just have to wait up until she arrives home safe and sound.

That night, Alison returned safely, though far from sound. It had been Sean's turn to drive so Alison had been drinking; she stumbled rather than stepped through the front door. I got a slobbery kiss on the cheek, before Alison turned to Sean and mumbled "I need a pee and to look-in on the boys; I'll see you in the bedroom."

As Alison staggered her way up the stairs Sean enquired as to whether the boys had behaved themselves, thanked me for taking care of them and then he too gave me a kiss. Though it was nothing like Alison's, or indeed any he'd given me before: Sean's arms were wrapped around me before I could think and he kissed me full on the mouth, long, hard and passionately.

As had happened that afternoon, I responded too slowly and when I did act, it was... wrongly. I returned the kiss; when Sean's tongue withdrew from between my lips, I even allowed my own to explore Sean's mouth. Sean's hand was squeezing my bum and I felt his cock pressing against my belly; rather than trying to pull away, I ground myself against it.

How long did it last? Probably worse than that afternoon's... indiscretion; certainly for many seconds and it may perhaps even have been for a full minute. It was Sean who broke our embrace, concluding it with a repeat of that satyric smile/theatrical wink combination; he spoke over his shoulder as he headed for the stairs "I'd better get myself up there, Alison's always horny when she's been drinking."

I stayed downstairs for a while before going up myself; yet again trying to catch my breath, settle a racing heartbeat and control those butterflies doing loop the loops inside my belly. Only as I began to climb the stairs did I perceive that this time it was even worse; I could feel my panties rubbing against my groin... It and they were both damp.

The guest room is just across the landing from Sean and Alison's bedroom and in the moment I was opening the door I heard a squeal from Alison, followed by a more guttural "Oh fuck yes Sean... Again, just like that." I was making a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time; or perhaps it was more my behaving badly when I was? I closed the door behind me... but not entirely.

I couldn't help but listen to Sean and Alison's lovemaking as I undressed, but when I'd done so, perhaps fearing that I may not be able to hear from the bed, I remained standing just inside the door for a further five minutes. This was getting out of hand and when eventually I climbed into bed, it was evident that the moisture level of my pants was now way beyond 'damp'.

I've no idea how much later it happened; I know I'd had a dream between times, so I must have slept for a few minutes at least. I was awake now though, with the bed covers kicked back and my legs spread; that dream was at the forefront of my mind and my hands were inside my panties -- those were downright wet by now! - while my fingers plunged into the yielding channel therein.

I didn't think I'd made any noise, or at least not enough to disturb anyone... My teeth were tightly clenched. I became aware that the door was open; I knew that I hadn't closed it fully, but it was now wide open! It was darker on the landing than in my room, so I couldn't actually 'see' anyone out there, but I sensed movement and felt sure that someone was out there watching me.

In that same instant I realised that those differing light levels -- there's a street light quite close to the guest room window, so even with the curtains drawn, it's never entirely dark -- would allow whomever was on the landing, a clear view of me and of what I was doing! Why didn't I just stop you might ask? A few seconds earlier and I might have done, but by then I was beyond the point of no return.

I recall taking some solace from the fact that my panties were still in place; whoever -- Sean? - couldn't actually 'see' my hands at work, though the stretched and moving fabric would no doubt leave little to their imagination. Three fingers of my left hand were spearing into my pussy, while the knuckles of my right were grinding fiercely against my clit.

A moment later and not even those clenched teeth and lips could contain all the noise of my orgasm; it was explosive with a capital E! My whole body went as rigid as a steel bar, I was supported only by my heels and the back of my head, with my back arched, bum raised inches above the mattress and trembling and shuddering as if I were suffering an epileptic fit.

Fluid poured out between my still invading fingers and I wondered for one moment if I'd peed myself. I feared that my heart might burst free of my breast and didn't think that I've ever climaxed so hard in my entire life... Certainly not on my own. Only as that orgasm subsided and clear thought began to return, did I remember that I hadn't been 'on my own'.

There'd been someone watching from the landing and rather than their presence diminishing or even abbreviating my orgasm, it had enhanced and expanded it... I'd come like a bloody train! Surreptitiously looking towards the door, I noted that it was once again closed; soon after I drifted off to sleep, still wallowing in the wanton pleasure of performing for that voyeur.

My sense of propriety returned with the daylight; I was awake early but didn't dare to go downstairs. The children began moving around first, rousing Sean and Alison soon after, but I continued clinging to the sanctuary of my bedroom. I Knew Sean was taking the boys to football practice this morning, so didn't venture downstairs until after I'd heard them leaving.

Alison was sat at the kitchen table looking very much the worse for wear; that made me feel a little better; slobbing around in my dressing gown I doubt that I was looking at my best either. "Oh God mum, I feel as rough as boots this morning... I'm never drinking again."

How could I not laugh at that; how many times had I heard it before? I poured myself a coffee and refilled Alison's mug too, before enquiring after her plans for the day.

"Thankfully not much... I was going to cook us a roast dinner but Sean realised that I wasn't up to it; after football he's taking the boys to McDonalds instead... What about you mum; more gardening I'll bet."

"No, not today love; once I've finished this coffee I'll get myself dressed and head for home."

"OK, do you want to take a shower before you go? If not I'm going to go for one myself."

"No, I'll leave it and have one when I get ho... No, actually I will have one here, my shower's playing silly buggers. I must remember to phone a plumber tomorrow and get it sorted."

"What's the problem?"

"Well, the water's running OK, but it's not as warm as it used to be and on top of that, it's sort of erratic, one minute the water will be barely lukewarm and then next moment it's scalding hot."

"That'll be a problem with your thermostatic cartridge."

"What's a thermostatic cartridge when it's at home?"

"I've no idea, but it lives inside the the fat chrome cylinder that's fixed to the wall... The bit with the control knobs on the end."

"Oh, OK... I'll suggest that to the plumber when I phone him."

"No; you don't need to get a plumber in. It's probably just got a bit of limescale stuck to it; clean that off and Bob's your Uncle."

"He might well be, but as I don't know exactly where it is, what it looks like or how I get it out, I can't clean it myself can I and by the sound of things you don't know either."

"No, but Sean knows how to do it; we had the exact same problem with ours a few months ago and Sean fixed it in a jiffy... He used my vinegar from the kitchen to clean it off. When he gets back with the boys from McDonalds I'll send him round; I'll bet he can fix it in an hour."

My stomach roiled at that suggestion, Sean was the last person I wanted coming around to my house today, but if I were to say so, Alison would insist on knowing the reason why. "No, don't worry about it love; I don't want to put him out."

"Don't be ridiculous mum! Sean's not likely to be doing anything else this afternoon and he owes you... If you hadn't spent most of yesterday doing our garden for us, he would have been outside doing that this afternoon."

I was backed into a corner so with fingers metaphorically crossed I replied "OK love, that'd be great... I'll tell you what, how about you and the kids coming over too? I could make tea for us all."

"Thanks, but no thanks. After staying up late with you last night and then footballing this morning, the twins and perhaps even Sean Junior too are going to need a sleep this afternoon."

Those butterflies had again taken flight in my stomach as I nodded my assent and understanding. Forty minutes later I was in the car and heading for home, with legs almost too weak to press the pedals.

It was just after two o'clock when the doorbell chimed and looking out of a window I could see Sean's car in the car park below. I'd changed clothes once I got home and been careful in my selection: A pair of baggy jeans, together with a shapeless and even baggier ring necked sweater... I didn't want to give Sean any ideas.

When I opened the door Sean's expression didn't display any disappointment at my chosen outfit, he was all business and didn't seem to notice or even care what I was wearing; ridiculously, that disinterest left me disappointed. I offered Sean coffee, but he hoisted the toolbox and a holdall that he was carrying and replied "No thanks Mel, I'll just get on with it; I don't want to be too late getting home."

Chagrined by Sean making no reference to yesterday's incidents, I pointed him toward the bathroom and left him to it. Were they of such minor importance to Sean, that he'd not even remembered? I'd spent half the morning contemplating suitably tart responses to anything he might say and wasn't given the opportunity to use any of them.

I sat in the lounge and... sulked as I listened to Sean working on the shower for only twenty minutes, before -- as promised by Alison -- he called out "Finished!"

I walked into the bathroom to find the shower running and Sean re-packing his tools; there was a bottle of vinegar in that holdall. Looking up from the floor he casually declared "It seems to be working OK now Mel, but it'd probably be best if you give it a try before I leave..."

I didn't say a word, but I expect that my expression gave away my thoughts. Sean's face broke out in a wide grin and he threw me another of those damned winks while continuing: "Don't worry, I'm fairly sure it'll be fine, so I'll head down to the car and put my tools away while you're in there; you can always lock this door, just to be sure that I don't see anything I shouldn't".

Sean had pushed and twisted a small button in the centre of the door's handle while saying the last; I'd noticed it a few times while cleaning, but until now had never realised what it was for. I waited until I saw Sean exiting the front door before closing the bathroom door and then fastened and double checked that lock before peeling off my clothes.

Five minutes later I was under the shower and naked save for a coating of shower-gel and soap suds when the bathroom door swung open. As I discovered later, those little locks can be opened from the outside with a screwdriver, or even the edge of a coin! It was actually a drop in the room's air temperature rather than the opening door which caught my attention and by then it was far too late.

Sean was already inside the bathroom and stepping into the shower in front of me; there was no escape route. I squealed in surprise and more than a little distress as I clamped one hand over my pussy and pressed my other arm across my breasts; Sean of course was wearing nothing but that shit-eating, satyric smile of his.

The hand covering my pussy and the one clasped onto my left breast were both doing fine, but my soap-slick right breast refused to stay behind my forearm. When it slid free for a third time I gave another squeal, this one fuelled by frustration and turned around; at least that only left my bum on display.

That pirouette proved a little too urgent, my feet slipped on the wet shower floor and it took both hands to prevent my tumbling over; my right caught hold of the grab rail and my left that long pole the shower hose clips onto. Even those might not have stopped me falling, but in the same instant I felt Sean's hands catch me by the hips.

Those hands weren't the only thing I felt: As I recovered my legs a moment later, I could feel one of Sean's wedged between them; more unsettling still was the sensation of his cock pressing against the small of my back. Unsettling or not, I was in no position to escape from Sean and that situation only worsened when both his hands slid upward to capture my breasts.

Presumably some of that shower-gel had sluiced off them in the intervening few seconds; Sean certainly didn't seem to be having any problem in holding onto my breasts. The febrile moan which escaped my lips as Sean's hands had arrived and which strengthened in tandem with the intensity of his touch probably did nothing to dislodge them either.

That moan was still echoing around the room when Sean found my nipples... That wouldn't have proved too difficult, they were by now swollen and has hard as two pebbles. Sean caught each with a finger and thumb and rolled them between; more than 'rolled' he pinched and twisted them aggressively. How could he have known? Just how I like it! My febrile moans grew louder still.

And that was only the first of my responses, my pelvis began to circle and push back against Sean. I knew it was doing so and I realised what it must suggest to Sean; my mind was screaming 'No', but tell them as I might, those damned hips refused to stop! In addition to pressing Sean's cock even harder into my back, they were also grinding my pubis against his intruding thigh.

Sean confirmed his interpretation with a growled "I knew you were up for it Mel... I should've fucked you years ago." In reinforcement of that opinion, Sean's right hand released my breast and slid quickly across my belly to arrive between my legs; once there, to my increasing shame, it was another jerk of my wayward pelvis which drove his fingers inside of me.