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Monica first appeared momentarily in Entertaining at Large Chapter XV and then had a starring role in the next one. That’s how this all started. Be worth reading if you want to be fully in the picture, Readers of a more sensitive disposition may be offended by the incest scenes in this story. If you’re like that, you may be better advised to give this one a miss. Comments, suggestions and support are always appreciated.
The doorbell rang at precisely the same moment as the alarm on the cooker beeped to announce my soufflé vol au vents were done. Prioritising was not difficult. Anyone who’s ever seen a vintage cooking programme knows timing is critical with soufflés. The vol au vent version was my own innovation but the same rule applies. I grabbed the oven gloves and tugged open the door, jerking my head back after the wave of hot air and steam hit my face. I always forget.
‘Nigel. Put some clothes on and answer the door, will you? If it’s Gina or one of the others, tell them to keep their hands to themselves and come back at seven o’clock.’
An odd request, you might think, but one entirely justified. I’ll explain.
Nigel, my son of almost nineteen, had spent the last couple of days traipsing around the house wearing nothing but novelty G-strings. Today’s was a Pinocchio number where a fully-erect penis was necessary to give form to the puppet’s lying nose. The reason? He was due to debut as a male stripper at a sleazy pub in town which had hit on the genius idea of organising a smut-fest to raise money for the local women’s refuge. The amateur male stripper troupe was a sop to female sensibilities, as far as I could tell, and to provide a break from day-after-day of their female counterparts which made up the rest of the programme.
I’d been helping him out. Nigel had developed cold feet, or to be more accurate a cold willy – and you all know how reductionist that can be, don’t you boys – after discovering his six-to-seven inch penis didn’t measure up to the swinging dicks sported by Internet porn stars. What mother wouldn’t want to help with such an existential crisis? My methods might have been more hands-on than others. Since his father had left on a four-day golfing holiday with his lodge buddies, caressing Nigel to full hardness, slipping on a cock ring and salivating over his firm pectoral and butt muscles had become my twice-daily routine.
There are drawbacks to such maternal diligence, an almost permanently moist pussy being topmost among them. But in the run up to the current situation, I’d been developing serious, incestuous hots for him and, touch wood, so far touching his wood was keeping more concentrated incursions down that dark path at bay. My schoolgirl error though had been buying the G-strings and cock rings from Gina. She is an old friend who just happened to have a small business running sex-toy parties for horny women. She’d met Nigel briefly when we stopped by to pick up the parcel of goodies and since then had been running a thread in praise of him on our WhatsApp group whipping up everyone’s hormones. There had been talk of organising a guerrilla group to storm the house and abduct him.
My soufflés looked perfect. I was moving them gently but quickly onto cooling trays when I heard the kitchen door open behind me.
‘You managed to beat off the horny trollops did you, sweetie? Who was it at the door?’
I got a cough in reply. I should have listened more closely to the intonation of it.
‘Sorry darling. I can’t turn round now, this is critical. Oh shit, that one’s ruined.’
I’d caught the bottom of the pastry with the spatula and crushed the delicate case. There was another cough. This one more insistent.
‘Mum, this is April. Alice’s mother.’
‘Fuck. Oh shit. Sorry. Oh god.’
I knew I was now bright red. I also knew that I was going to have to abandon the remaining soufflés to their fate. This guest needed a proper welcoming. I wiped my hands on my apron prior to turning.
‘I’m Monica, we spoke on the phone. Thank you for coming. It’s wonderful to meet you at last.’
The routine of politeness allowed me to navigate around the kitchen island to greet our guest properly. April was lovely. Short, about five foot two, I’d estimate with an attractive pale face beneath a mass of blonde curls and a perfectly balanced figure. I started to hold out a hand but then withdrew it. Too formal. I thought about a hug; perhaps too soon? There was only one solution.
‘I’m not quite sure what to do next. I was going to shake hands, but that seems too impersonal. A hug? Air kisses? What do you think?’
I was smiling, I hoped not too idiotically. April looked serious as she considered what I’d said.
‘I’ve only ever seen that air-kissing stuff on the telly. But I don’t mind giving it a bash if you’re up for it.’
I bent down – I’m about five-nine in the low heels I was wearing – and we tentatively moved our heads closer while placing hands on each other: shoulder and escort ataşehir waist for me, waist for her. We made bussing noises and almost, but not quite, touched cheeks. We stepped back from each other, but at least now we were both smiling. I could feel her assessing me with the coolest blue eyes I had ever seen.
That wasn’t too bad for a first go was it? I bought you this. Nigel said you liked red.’
She held out a bottle of cheap-looking wine. I took it gratefully and examined the label – like you do. It came from one of the German budget supermarkets which now dominated the sector. It was their basic, own-brand offering.
‘I read somewhere they’d won prizes for their wines. I’ll look forward to drinking it. Thanks, but you really shouldn’t have. I told you, just come as you are.’
We checked each other out again. We were both in T-shirts, jeans and trainers and – side note to self – filled them pretty well. We smiled exaggerated smiles at each other, waiting for the stilted search for common ground and mutual interests to be started. I knew it was my job to get the ball rolling, but I needed a few minutes.
‘Nigel will get you a drink. Would you please excuse me just for one minute, but I really need to rescue the last of my soufflés if at all possible.’
‘I’ve no idea what a soufflé is, but is there anything I can do to help?’
I’d turned and picked up the spatula again. I caught a glimpse of my son standing, arms folded, watching the interaction between two strangers who he had the advantage of knowing quite well.
‘There’s loads to do, I’d be grateful for a hand, of course. But – earth to Nigel – if refreshments ever get made – mine’s a coffee, mister – why don’t we take a break and get to know each other a bit?’
My pointed remarks in his direction jolted Nigel out of his reveries and he set to work with the percolator. April nodded her agreement to a coffee too. I moved cooling food well away from his work area – experience with Nigel’s methods – and eventually settled on a stool opposite April. We both smiled that smile again. I was nervous about this meeting. Alice’s reluctance on her mother’s behalf, had been mirrored in the telephone conversation we’d had that morning. April was clearly prickly about any suggestion – real or, as in this case, imagined – that she was being condescended to or pitied. She had been adamant about not attending the party and only reluctantly agreed to come over for coffee. She refused point-blank to allow me, or even Nigel, to pick her up. We came from different worlds; I had noticed her looking around at my kitchen like a kid in a sweetshop. It was clear that even though we were wearing virtually identical outfits, mine had probably cost about ten-times the price of hers. I opened this new chapter in our lives with a short speech extolling her daughter’s qualities: always a good way to a woman’s good books.
‘I just don’t understand for the life of me what she sees in Nigel. I don’t get it, I really don’t. I’ve lived with him for the best part of nineteen years. I’d never have pencilled him in as such a winner.’
‘He’s the best boyfriend she’s ever had.’
‘I get it, you mean she’s just using him as a stepping stone until a really nice guy comes along? That makes sense.’
‘I’m in the room mum.’
Nigel was laughing, but April wasn’t. Maybe she was playing the same game as me, but she was unstinting in her praise for the way he behaved, not only with Alice, but with her too. Nigel was clearly embarrassed, I was privately delighted that he made such an impression on others. He placed two mugs in front of us. I noted that he hadn’t had to ask April how she took hers.
‘Still in the room guys, if you’re at all interested.’
‘Listen. I’m pleased Alice has made a good impression on you, she’s got a lot of good qualities that I love and admire. But let’s face it, my daughter’s a bit of a slapper. Always has been. Her choices, like mine, have almost always been bad. Until now.’
She touched Nigel’s hand gently.
‘Why don’t we go and sit in the other room while we have our coffee. Give you a chance to tell me what you really think.’
‘I’ll continue with the preparations if you want, mum. Vegan sausage rolls next?’
‘Thanks darling. You do realise though, that you’ll be homeless if I hear even a squeak out of the smoke alarm?’
I winked at April as we got up. She replied with a tentative smile. She waited until we were in the hallway before speaking again.
‘You know he’s cooked for us a couple of times? First time in my life that a man’s ever made me a meal.’
‘He been doing his own washing for the past few months. I’ve never known a man who did that.’
‘Still hear you.’
I closed the door to the lounge firmly and we settled into the sofa. Over the next half-an-hour we established a firm footing for what I hoped might become a friendship. She relaxed in my company and with the surroundings I’m sure she’d have kadıköy escort characterised as opulent. I gained respect for her directness and honesty. April was clearly a woman with very little side. Cups empty, we made a mutual decision to get back in the kitchen and spent the next couple of hours laughing at family anecdotes and teasing Nigel while the rest of the preparations seemed to take care of themselves. The old clock we’d inherited from Howard’s family was chiming six as we put the last platter of food on the table, alongside a large tray of empty champagne flutes. I wiped my hands, put an arm over April’s shoulder and let out a sigh of satisfaction.
‘I should be going, the buses finish early on a Saturday. You’ll want to get ready.’
I was horrified.
‘You’re staying. I won’t hear of you going.’
‘No, really. You’re very kind, but I’m sure I’d be out of place. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends.’
I turned on her and walked across to close the kitchen door. This, I definitely didn’t want Nigel to hear.
‘Now you’re making me cross. The idea that I’d be embarrassed by you is frankly insulting. I know it’s early to say we’ll become friends, but at the very least you’re Alice’s mum and as such, always an honoured guest.’
‘That’s a bit Japanese isn’t it?’
‘Maybe, but you won’t have to face an Alice tongue-lashing when she finds out.’
‘I’ll explain to her, don’t worry.’
‘Will that be before or after she punches my lights out?’
We were almost squared off staring at each other. The irresistible force meets the immovable object. Except that something had to give. When April and I had spoken earlier she had already been reluctant about attending the party; coming over for the afternoon had been a compromise. But I still wasn’t ready to concede.
‘Come upstairs and help me. I’ll persuade you while I get dressed. Don’t worry about public transport. We’ll open an account for you with Nigel’s Taxis if you still insist on going.’
‘Well I suppose I could. But anyway, I don’t have anything to wear. I couldn’t possibly attend a swanky do looking like this.’
‘If that’s your only worry, don’t. I’ll find you something of mine that’ll fit. Problem solved.’
She just looked me up and down and then waved her open palms in front of her own body. I’ll admit that there was and is a significant difference in our heights, bust measurements and dress sizes. But I wasn’t going to let a little thing like that stop me from at least trying. I went to the cooler and selected a bottle of champagne. Time to roll out the big guns. We both let out an involuntary girly-squeal when the cork popped and ricochetted off the ceiling. That made us smile almost conspiratorially and we clinked glasses once I’d quickly poured to avoid spillage.
‘To an evening of innocent fun. Let’s hope all our hard work pays dividends.’
We drank and I topped up the glasses before I handed her the bottle and headed for the stairs. April was clearly impressed.
‘This is amazing. I mean, I’ve had champagne before. At weddings and stuff. But none of it tasted like this.’
‘Glad you like it. I splashed out a bit, so there’s plenty more where that came from. It always makes me, I don’t know, a bit giggly.’
‘I’m not sure what it’ll do to me, but I’m really liking the taste.’
I chatted about the people I was expecting. Most were wives of other lodge members, others mothers I’d met via the boys. I stressed the fun-loving side of their personalities. I could feel April’s scepticism even without looking at her.
‘Wait ’til we’ve poured a few of these into them.’
I raised my glass for a refill.
‘Why don’t you check out the wardrobe to see if there’s anything you like. I’ll take the first shower.’
I stripped out of my clothes and underwear and slid open the wall-length wardrobe before searching my underwear drawers to select items for when I was washed. I hadn’t given a thought to my nakedness. I’m comfortable with my body and when alone in the house quite often enjoyed the freedom. I caught April staring at me when I glimpsed in the mirror. She looked away when she spotted my smile.
‘You don’t mind do you?’
‘No, no. Not at all. Me and Alice quite often do the same at home. I was just thinking.’
She stopped, obviously trying to find polite words for what she wanted to convey next.
‘That I’m well-preserved for my age?’
‘Not at all. I was wondering what gym you use and whether I could afford to join. You look great.’
‘That’s kind, thank you. So. Get stuck into these clothes, there’s got to be something you like. We’ll see what else you need when you’ve picked something.’
I walked into the bathroom and started the shower. I could hear April sliding hangars and pulling the odd thing out as I stepped into the steam. So far, so good, I thought. What she didn’t know and I wasn’t telling was that at least one maltepe escort bayan dress I owned would definitely fit her. The only question was would she have the courage to wear it. I quickly finished washing, wrapped up in a bath sheet and returned to my guest, massaging myself dry as I did so.
I watched April as she flicked through my dresses. She pulled out one of my favourites and raised it admiringly before holding it against herself. She tutted and replaced it. Obviously too big. She did the same with a couple more before she realised I was back in the room.
‘You’ve got some beautiful clothes.’
‘But it’s like I thought, none of them are my size. They’d look like sacks on me.’
‘You went through everything?’
‘I think so.’
‘Why don’t you take a shower to freshen up while I get some underwear on. I’m sure there’s a couple of outfits in there which would suit us down to the ground.’
‘Probably better if I wait ’till I get home. I really don’t want to cause you any more bother.’
I could sense some disappointment in her voice. Either my persuasion, or the champagne, was clearly mellowing her attitude.
‘Come on, I’ll find something that’ll make the rest of them’s eyes pop out. What have you got to lose? An evening of crap telly and take-away food?’
‘Well if you put it like that, why not? You smell amazing. At least I’ll get to use your posh gel and expensive towels.’
‘That’s the spirit. Don’t worry about a thing. Come on, off with those things and go and spoil yourself.’
I watched her as she got undressed. I’d guessed right when I first saw her. She was slim with a perfectly flat stomach. Her breasts, the size of large apples, stood out prominently from her chest and barely shook as she moved. Her pubes were trimmed not shaved, but so pale as to be hardly visible anyway. Her outer labia covered everything leaving a faint pink line shadowing her vaginal entrance.
‘You don’t need my gym. Hard work seems to be doing the job for you. You’re gorgeous.’
She coloured slightly and covered her pudenda with her hands when she noticed me looking. I busied myself selecting thong, bra, suspender belt and stockings from a drawer. I pulled out a second pair of stockings and another belt.
‘These should fit you nicely. They’re too small for me. I’ve got a pack of thongs somewhere that should also be your size. I got carried away one afternoon.’
‘Do you mind if I ask you a question?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Are you bisexual?’
I wanted to laugh, but managed to stop myself. If I’d made a mental list of questions I thought she’d want to ask, that would have been right at the bottom.
‘Not sure is the honest answer. I’ve only had one adult experience with another woman – and that was in highly unusual circumstances. But I have to admit I enjoyed it and have been curious ever since as to whether I’d take the opportunity again if it ever arose. Why do you ask?’
‘You’ve obviously been checking me out. You’re pretty confident you’ve got something I can wear despite the obvious difference in our body shapes. I suppose I just started wondering whether there was more to it.’
‘You mean do I fancy you?’ Would you be offended?’
‘No. No. Definitely not. In fact I’d be flattered. Most people I get off with aren’t half as good looking as you.’
‘You mean men or women? Or both?’
‘I’ve never been with a woman. Never had the chance, but I’m not sure I’d be into it. I like the feeling of a dick inside me too much.’
‘Then I’m definitely flattered. Come on, get in that shower, the guests’ll be here in less than an hour.’
Her face was a picture when she exited the bathroom and saw what I was wearing. The G-string panties were more lace than cloth; I had chosen one of my thinnest suspender belts and the sheer, seamed black stockings looked like they were suspended on strings. Normally I’d have worn the matching bra under the see-through, net dress I’d squeezed into the night before to titillate Nigel. Now I had rejected it in favour of two bright red, heart-shaped pasties I’d bought from Gina on impulse at a previous girls’ night sex-toys party. I’d never tried them before, not even as Monique, and I could have done with some help managing the glue and the positioning. When I looked at myself in the full-length mirror I was satisfied. When I saw April’s face – a combination of shock, amusement and confusion – I was more than satisfied.
‘You’re wearing that?’
‘I am. Makes a statement doesn’t it?’
‘It certainly does that. Probably good job you left your husbands at home tonight, ladies is the closest I could come up with.’
‘I wanted to make sure you felt slightly overdressed when you squeezed into these.’
I handed her the fresh glass of champagne I’d poured and nodded to the bed where I’d laid out the garments I’d chosen. She let out a shriek which she quickly stifled and gulped down half the glass while she went red and started laughing defensively.
‘Me? I’ve never. I couldn’t. I mean what would your friends think?’
‘That’s easy. They’ll think wow.’
‘Really? Come on.’
‘That or god, I feel like a frump in my raciest dress, I’ll never forgive those two bitches.’
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