My Secretive Family – Gigolo
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His hands were so good, strong, firm but soothing, the tension in her neck and back dissipating. Every year was the same, rushing to get things perfect to keep her husband’s paranoia at bay. Her sister trying to avoid her obligations again, and this year keeping secrets, that wasn’t allowed in their relationship. The girls trying her patience with the bikinis and the demands for a pool party. Then there were the relatives, his side as well as hers.
That tension began creeping back, as she began replaying the three arguments, she had had this morning alone. Ted, wittering on about the pool and where the warmest spot would be, then accusing her of not buying enough food, just because he hadn’t looked properly for the burgers and sausages. The twins insisting on the slut-cut bikini bottoms, the bikini tops were bad enough but at least they covered more flesh. She wasn’t a prude, but the neighbours would be there, most of them were middle aged blokes who would have heart failure and/or solid boners.
Somehow, her son Tony managed to placate Ted and his sisters without too much trouble. Ted had his supplies of heart clogging red-meat to burn on the barbeque and the girls compromised by wearing beach shorts over their bottoms.
Then there was her sister, at least she arrived on time for once to help, recently she had been late for their daily gym and yoga classes, turning up looking washed out. Then she initially refused to take her turn fending off the advances of John, saying she didn’t feel like it. There had been no way she would avoid it for a third year in a row, it was her fault he thought he could get away with it, so at least that one got settled without Tony’s intervention. Still, that hadn’t been all her sister had done to cause her worry, why had she needed to tell her today, it could have been left until tomorrow, another day wouldn’t have meant anything different.
She heard his voice telling her softly to empty her mind, it was a soft lilting voice complimenting the massaging strokes of his hands. She let go of her thoughts, and felt the renewed tension melt away to be replaced with something akin to pleasure, sensual pleasure. Semi-naked face down on a bed a man straddling her body, being soothed by his hands and voice, this was worth the risk of embarrassment if anyone found them, a wonderful thirty minutes away from all the noise and forced conversations. She now wondered why she had been so reluctant to sneak away from the party, if anyone did find them, she wouldn’t get the blame anyway, that thought left a contented smirk on her face.
There had been that moment of embarrassed discomfort when he had deftly slipped her sun dress off her shoulders, then equally deftly unclasped her bra, as he instructed her to lie face down on the towel spread over his bed, before he went to get the massage oils. She had been free to remove the bra without showing him her tits and settle on the towel before he returned. She briefly wondered if he would have been so relaxed if he realised, she wasn’t quite who he thought her to be.
The noise outside seemed to change to a rhythmic chanting but fade into the background at the same time as she relaxed, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the sensations flowing from his touch. It felt like he knew exactly how to handle her, where to be firm, where to be gentle, this was so much better than the girl at the Spa last weekend.
His face had moved close to hers; she could feel the warm breath on her cheek and neck as he spoke softly. He had asked her something, it didn’t quite register as she concentrated on the pleasurable warmth spreading through her from the massage. She nodded and murmured ascent regardless of the question, at this moment he could do anything he wanted. She felt the bed move as he shifted position further down her body, then he stretched over her, his hands returned to her neck, then shoulders, down her arms, returned before descending in longer strokes down the full length of her spine.
She let out a murmur of contentment, as those hands glided back along her sides, fingers brushing fleetingly her side-boobs, sensual, not groping like most men would. The longer he reached the closer his torso came to her back; she could feel his warmth. His breath on her neck again fleeting, then his hands repeated their journey over her upper body, she heard her own sigh. This man would make any woman want more, if only they weren’t who they were, she might roll over and let him massage her breasts.
That thought gave her an involuntary shiver and a throb down where it shouldn’t be. Much more of this and she would need to ask him to give her a few minutes ‘alone’ time. Another smirk, if she was feeling this good in such a short session, she wondered what his female clients would want, maybe even get, another shudder.
She forced herself to ask, “How much longer have we got before we’re missed?”
The reassuring, lilting voice, responded, “As long as you need!”
The yalova escort long stroke down her back slipped lower over her buttocks, a gentle clasp then back along her sides. She pressed her legs together to halt the new throb, but it made it worse, so she spread them apart again bumping against his knees. I need to stop this or he’ll witness something he should never see, or hear and probably feel. Her mouth opened only to sigh as his torso made contact, lightly sliding over her upper back, she was sure she could feel his nipples graze her skin, her own were now extended pressing into the towel below her.
She was sure he knew the affect this was having; he just didn’t know on who. Then through the fog of pleasure a nasty, kinky thought came into her head. He knows exactly how to make her feel this way, he has been practising on an exact copy of her body. In fact, as far as he knows this is the body he is used to, and she is the copy.
He lifted her arms above her head, kissed her neck lightly, he shifted one leg between hers and she felt her legs gently nudged apart. Another movement and he no longer straddled her but knelt between her spread legs. His body stretched over her, the skin-to-skin contact firmer, only the massage oil easing the motion, then pressure against her buttocks. She knew what was causing that pressure, she knew she must stop this now, it felt heavy and solid against the lacy cloth of her knickers. It lifted, she sighed, relief and disappointment, sprang to her mind, more disappointment if she was being truthful.
Her sister probably encouraged this little game getting her thrills, leading him to the edge, but how did she stop herself crossing the line? They were always teasing each other, but she would stop it if he got too revved up.
He’s just playing his part in her sister’s game, still it’s not her fault either that he’s got her worked up, no, if her husband was only a proper husband, the thought melted, contact again firmer, his hips grinding, her buttocks squirmed. Was it him trying to find a way through the cloth or she trying to capture him? How can she stop this without awkward questions, who controls this game?
Stop she said, but not out loud, only a grunt, then a groan escaped her lips, a grunt which she translated as,
Her internal voice pleading, “Please I want it, now, and I want it deep.”
Did he understand her bitch in heat noises? Most probably, he was a natural seducer, she could feel that confidence from his first touch. The gentle one-handed grip on her wrists held above her head, the other hand snaking between their bodies, all it would take was a quick tug of thin material to one side and a thrust, that’s all.
A groan, “Do it!” she said in her head, another longer groan and a moan as his fingers caught the edge of the material,
The voice in her head screaming, “In, push it in, don’t be gentle!”
A squeal, a scream, a crash, raised voices, swearing, more screaming coming through the bedroom window.
“What the fuck is that?” she heard him say, as reality kicked in, his body lifting from hers.
“Bollocks,” he moaned, “We better get dressed and get down there!”
She opened her eyes, at first focusing only on the thick tube sticking up and out from his groin, then scanning the rest of his taut body. Her mind registering, a tattoo, a pair of cherries, on the left side of his groin.
“Come on,” he insisted, pulling up shorts, tucking himself away from her lingering gaze, “It looks like someone’s fighting down there!”
Shocked out of her inertia, she rolled off the bed and grabbed her dress, her breasts swinging in full view. Ignoring her bra, she rapidly shrugged the dress on, fumbling as she buttoned the top, her nipples still aching, forming obvious points through the material.
“I’ll go down first,” he said, checking the hallway, “Follow as soon as possible.”
She watched him go as she bent to find her sandals, ‘He was going to do it, he was going to push himself into me, his thick cock, his heavy balls!’ the thoughts came to her, as she struggled with the straps on her sandals.
‘He would have taken me,’ she mused, then stood finally, ‘I would have let him, I was about to beg him!’
“Concentrate,” she said out loud to no one, then the thoughts struck her, her sister has used him, she has felt him inside her!
She swayed reached out to steady herself on the doorframe, more shouts from the garden, she needed to move, stop thinking and compose yourself.
Lifting the hem of the dress, she slipped a finger under the leg of her knickers and eased the material out of her bum-crack, sticky wetness coated her finger. Still wobbly she tried to focus as she too checked the hallway then made for the stairs.
******** Forty minutes earlier ************************************************************
Another family birthday party, this one a slightly larger affair as Tony Dobbin’s twin sisters, Julie-Ann (Jules) and Joanne yalova escort bayan (JoJo), were belatedly celebrating their 18th birthdays (plus a few weeks), uncles and aunts from both sides of the family had arrived, alongside a mob of school friends, most of the neighbours too had been invited mainly to prevent complaints. Tony was home from university, where he was about to complete his master’s degree, it was just for a week to celebrate his little sisters’ birthdays and help out at the obligatory party.
His little sisters were almost grown-ups, their final exams finished, university their next step in life, just as he was taking the step to fulltime work. The exams had been the reason the birthday party had been delayed, they and their friends had only a few days of official school left then would be free for the summer. The previous weekend Tony had used his staff discount for a birthday treat to give the twins, a couple of their friends and their Mum and Aunt (as responsible adults) to a Spa weekend. So, for now he was their favourite brother, not that they had any others, unless Dad had been a very naughty boy.
The chaos parking in their close was only matched by the chaos in the back garden. Tony stared at the scene from the kitchen window, mainly adults gathered on the patio, close to the food and booze, teenagers scattered in noisy groups near the end of the garden where music throbbed and blared, mixed with splashing, squeals and shouts from the oversized paddling pool and bouncy castle that his dad had bought from a bloke his uncle John knew. Jules and JoJo had insisted their friends all wore beach wear for their pool party even though the temperatures were still more spring than summer. The coolness of the occasional breeze made itself known by the pokies most of the girls were sporting.
The regular players from the family were present.
His Dad – Ted, a 56-year-old, Sales Executive, former semi-pro footballer, long gone to seed, who always drank too much at the weekend now active sports were a thing of distant memory, the odd round of golf unable to compensate for the drinks at the nineteenth hole. Gregarious, friendly if unimaginative, full of stories about past sporting glories, still kept the flowing locks of his days as a midfield dynamo, even longer recently. Generous, sometimes beyond his current means since his footballing heydays. He was a man who avoided conflict at all costs, especially with his brother, even when said brother was openly groping his wife.
His Mum – May and her identical twin sister Aunt June, both 44, but Mum being 34 minutes older, each named after the month they were born in. Both women were in good nick for their age as his dad would say to anyone who would listen, which was true. May and June were physically indistinguishable, but personality wise they are markedly different. His Mum the steady, even cautious one until she knew someone well, loving to her kids but not an over-the-top doting mother.
Aunt June, however, is erratic, flirty, and very tactile, Tony remembered his grandmother calling June “a flighty girl”. The two sisters were very close as is generally the case with twins, they still met every weekday morning for exercise classes or a brunch when they were working in the afternoon, but they were not inseparable.
Uncle John (Dad’s younger brother) – 53, a loud, beer-bellied market trader as in a market stall, not the money markets. Everything was cash only, and don’t tell the taxman. He was the touchy, feely one in the family, as long as you were female and not his wife, always tried it on with Tony’s Mum at least once at every party but seemed to steer clear of Aunt June. His claim to fame had been a short stint as a DJ in Ibiza during the early clubbing days. Uncle John invariably provided the music for the family parties, heavy on dance music.
Uncle John’s wife, Theresa – 40’s but no one was quite sure exactly, peroxide blonde, plain looking horsey faced, almost as loud as her husband, and a similar girth, but taller, she also worked the market stall. Once a stick thin waif, she had apparently returned with Uncle John after his last Ibiza season, announcing their engagement.
Uncle Derek (Mum’s side) – 49, pasty faced older brother, lank thinning hair, painfully skinny, strangers always asked if he was unwell. Worked in accounts at the local council but had not passed any accountancy exams. A furtive observer of all the goings-on around him, but sheepish. Mum and Aunt May seemed to ignore him most of the time, there was no hint of sisterly affection.
Aunt Miriam, Derek’s wife – 48, insisted on being called Mimi, brunette, short and wide at the hip, and until two years ago quite flat-chested, a small lottery win, and a Bulgarian clinic changed that. Mimi, also worked for the local council at the Parks and Gardens depot. She completely dominated her husband, to the point of humiliation. They, like uncle Tony and Aunt Theresa had never had children escort yalova and only visited for family parties, and the free food and drink.
Jules and JoJo – Tony’s twin sisters, like their mother and aunt virtually indistinguishable physically. Both girls were feisty and demanding but Jules older by 15 minutes was generally the leader of their scheming. Newly blossomed, at least in Tony’s eyes into sexy young women, not buxom but enough padding on their slight frames to make them easy on the eye.
The only regular family players missing from the back garden tableau were his grandparents on Mum’s side (away on an anniversary cruise), cousin Frances (Fran), daughter of Aunt June and her ex-husband Gerry. Fran was upstairs in the girl’s bedroom playing on his old Xbox avoiding the crowd and uncle John’s grasping hands. Uncle Gerry was ‘away’ and would remain away for another 8 years at least before any chance of parole.
The party though similar to ones before also felt like a watershed in family life, not many more gatherings like this as they grew older and moved on. Soon enough he, his sisters and maybe even Fran would be the ones hosting the parties with their generation of kids playing, dancing and occasionally fighting.
Tony’s Dad, was alternately tending the barbeque, downing strong cider, chatting to the neighbours, or taking mixed drinks orders, to be passed to ‘The Bar Boy Tony’, as he was called whenever the family got together, to be fulfilled. This had become Tony’s role ever since he took a bar job to earn cash while in his first year at university, he had become the family expert drink maker at parties. Although the bar job had lasted only two terms, before he began working at an upmarket Country Club and Spa. It would have been an interesting change to be asked to perform his Spa duties at a family party, they could use the nickname Fran had given him when she heard about his client’s needs, Deuce, after a comedy film about a wannabee gigolo.
Tony had insisted on buckets of iced beers and wine to be placed around the garden to let people help themselves, now the girls and their friends were adults (at least in the eyes of the law), there was little need to restrict access.
Tony had finished mixing another couple of ‘fishbowls’ (weak on Mum’s orders) for his sisters and her friends, then poured a beer of his own, just as his aunt June passed the kitchen window on her way inside.
Before starting on the latest list from his father, which included round number five for uncle John, aunt Theresa and Aunt Mimi, Tony turned and greeted his favourite aunt with a hug, and a sloppy kiss on the neck.
“What’s that for?” asked a slightly surprised aunt June.
“It’s because you are my favourite and most gorgeous auntie!” Tony laughed, “And you look a little stressed?”
“What were you and Mum arguing about earlier?” Tony continued.
“Just twin stuff,” Aunt June replied evasively, pushing herself from his grasp, “Do you need a hand with any drinks? The pace they are downing them they won’t make it to the evening.”
“They’ll slow down a bit now, apart from Uncle John, the others are hitting capacity,” said Tony with authority.
“It’s the same every year, a sprint then uncle John leaves them trailing in his wake!”, he explained, “Although uncle John and Dad were on the beers early putting that pool together, so no doubt you’re right they will probably both be asleep by late afternoon too!” he grinned at his aunt.
“If you do want to help, you could rinse those empties and get the dishwasher on?” Tony suggested, “It will give me a bit more space to work.”
“No problem,” said Aunt June, nodded stiffly, winced, and rubbed her neck, then began tackling the array of empty glasses.
Checking the list, two new drinks had been added for the latest arrivals, these were for the new couple who had recently moved into the close. Low alcohol lager and a fruit juice.
‘They must be taking it easy as they are newbies,’ thought Tony as he scanned the garden to try to check them out. He caught sight of them talking to JoJo and her buxom friend Alice, the guy was about mid-thirties, but a tallish blonde had her back to him.
She was taller than JoJo and Alice even in her flat sandals, her dress seemed to billow around her legs in the breeze, and Tony had a strange feeling he knew her. JoJo pointed towards the house and the blonde turned exposing her huge baby bump, extending out below an ample bosom. Tony gasped as he recognised the radiant smile, Miss Jennifer Miller, a teacher from his old secondary school.
He felt his face redden, as Aunt June spoke, “Something wrong?”
“No, just someone I haven’t seen since school,” he stammered.
“Oh, the new neighbours,” said Aunt June, “She’s Jules and JoJo’s sixth form tutor, nice woman.”
“I didn’t know she was still there,” Tony muttered.
“Well, she won’t be for long,” aunt June replied, “As soon as the sixth form leave she’ll be on maternity leave, but looking at her now it could be sooner! You should go and have a chat to her, see if she remembers the family genius!”
“Er yes I suppose I should,” Tony said in a non-committal tone.
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