Thirty Minutes to Go

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Hywel felt a flutter of nervous anticipation as he rang Eleri’s doorbell. He told himself this was ridiculous, for the only purpose of his visit was the return of the car footpump his mother had borrowed from Eleri the day before. But he was an unusually shy lad, diffident and tongue-tied with women, and the strong sexual attraction he’d always felt towards his mother’s best friend heightened rather than decreased his self-consciousness.

Suddenly there was movement behind the door’s frosted glass panes, and it swung open to reveal the lady herself, attired more casually than Hywel had ever seen her. Her raven locks, usually tied back in a pony tail, hung in waves to her shoulders, and her feet were bare below her sloppy jeans. But what made Hywel’s heart beat faster was the outline of her largish breasts under the white man’s shirt; the poking nipples and gently swinging curves betrayed her braless state.

‘Oh, it’s you, Hywel.’ She gave him a ravishing smile.

‘Hi’, murmured Hywel, overawed.

‘I thought it would be you, actually. Your Mum rang earlier to say you’d be over shortly’.

Hywel unslung the leather holdall which contained the pump from his shoulder, and proffered it to Eleri. He half-hoped that Eleri would take it and bid him good-day. Yet, at the same time, he was excited by her physical nearness (close proximity to a sexy lady, for him, was a most unusual experience). And dared he imagine that she had left her bra off deliberately for him?

As if reading his thoughts, Eleri, stooping down for the holdall so that her breasts wobbled enticingly, informed him: ‘I’m afraid you caught me at rather an awkward moment. I’ve only just climbed out of the shower.’ So that was the reason – she simply hadn’t had time to dress properly. Hywel felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.

‘You can stay for a cup of tea, though, can’t you?’ added Eleri, once more throwing Hywel’s mind into turmoil.

‘Well, I-I don’t know…’ he stammered, nonplussed.

‘Of course you can. Come in and make yourself comfy on the sofa.’ Eleri turned and marched down the front hallway, the play of the muscles in her firm buttocks well defined under the tight jeans. Hywel followed apprehensively.

‘In there’, Eleri told him, indicating a door on the left with a careless wave of her hand. Hywel passed into an untidy lounge and perched gingerly on the edge of a cream leather settee. Eleri, meanwhile, had disappeared, presumably to attire herself more respectably. But moments later she strolled through the doorway, still braless but now with two buttons undone, and bearing a bottle of malt whisky. Flinging herself on the settee, she snuggled up to him and thrust the bottle into his face.

‘Have a quick dose of that. It’ll relax you.’

Hywel obeyed, gulping back a large measure of the fiery spirit, and almost gagged in the process. He was almost at his wit’s gümüşhane escort end – nothing like this had happened before in his sheltered life.

Eleri took the bottle from him, and sipped from it as her right hand caressed the back of his neck and then slid, exploring, under his shirt.

‘What time is it, big boy? You mustn’t be late for Mummy, after all’, inquired Eleri, sensing his anxiety to be away.

‘Er…it’s five past two’, returned Hywel, glancing at his watch.

‘Very tense, aren’t you?’, she murmured, withdrawing her hand and placing it in comradely fashion round his neck. She waited awhile, then murmured in his ear: ‘Would I be right, by any chance, in thinking you’ve never even so much as pecked a girl on the cheek? And that’s partly because you’re so shy, I know. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there? If I’m not much mistaken, your mother’s told you not to get involved with women in any away. Hasn’t she just?’

Hywel glanced up, blushing, and met Eleri’s earnest (or was it secretly mocking?) gaze.

‘Well, yes…it’s true..I suppose…’

‘She told me herself she doesn’t want her kids fooling around with anyone, not anyone, till they’re properly married’, Eleri swept on airily, ignoring Hywel’s discomfiture. ‘Not that you’re a kid any more. Next week, you’re off to college, I gather. But I still think your mother’s right. Young men can get into all sorts of trouble if they’re not careful.’

Surely, Hywel felt, she was now playing cat to his mouse. He mumbled agreement to this last proposition, and fidgeted nervously.

Abruptly she rose and crossed to the hi-fi cabinet. ‘Let’s have music,’ she announced, pressing the play button on the CD. The synthesised strains of New Age music, interspersed with birdsong, pervaded the room. Returning to Hywel’s side, this bold hostess of his snuggled up to him, rather tighter than before.

‘Because there are all sorts of shameless hussies out there,’ she continued, maintaining her theme. ‘For example, there are women who’ll take a nice boy, give him a big slobbering kiss right on the lips, and even explore his mouth with their tongue. Did you know that?’

Hywel still wasn’t too sure where all this was leading, and decided his best policy was to sit tight and stare into space. But Eleri made no further move, and appeared content to hug him. Hywel was pleasantly aware of the weight of her left breast against his flank. Perhaps, though, it was time to return home – his mother didn’t like him to stay out long, even though he was no longer a child. And yet the warmth of Eleri’s presence was lulling him into a drowsy contentment from which he was reluctant to stir.

Finally he roused himself and checked the time. It was twenty-five to three. Time to go. But, at that very moment, Eleri leaped at him, dragging his face against hers and starting to kiss him passionately. He could feel the moist circle of her lips on his, and then her tongue probed into his mouth, rolling and flicking. Fighting down an impulse to break free of her clutches, he gingerly put his arms round her and allowed his own tongue to fence with hers.

For a short while they continued thus. Then Eleri broke away from him abruptly and sat by his side, panting heavily. Carefully she consulted the tiny gold watch that adorned her wrist. And presently she spoke once more, articulating the words slowly and deliberately, almost as if reciting an incantation.

‘And there are ladies even more brazen than that. Ladies who think nothing of stripping to the waist in front of a guy. Can you imagine anyone being so shameless? Big boobs swinging around, just like that. And then they’ll even let the fella play with their titties, or suck their nipples, or whatever.’

Glancing sidelong at the taut swell of bosom beside him, Hywel felt a tremor of excitement stir in his loins. Any second now, Eleri would start unbuttoning her shirt, and then…

But Eleri continued to sit motionless, and, beginning to fathom her game, Hywel took deliberate note of the time. It was now quarter to three.

They passed the next half-hour in idle chit-chat. Then Eleri, still gossiping, brought her hands up to her shirt and, undoing two more buttons, pulled it clear of her left boob. Hywel stared, transfixed, at its full white curves, and instinctively reached out his hand to squeeze and stroke the firm yet lightly yielding flesh.

‘You can suck it too, young man’, whispered Eleri, and Hywel obediently bent his head and took the long nipple firmly in his mouth.

‘Teeth’, hissed Eleri sharply. ‘Sorry’, mumbled Hywel, and delicately re-applied his lips with greater care. Eleri gently ran her fingers through his hair, and the minutes passed, Hywel feeling quite at peace.

At length Eleri laid her palms against his temples and drew him upright. She now removed her shirt altogether, flinging it onto the carpet.

‘Rub my shoulders for me, will you, sweetheart,’ she entreated. Hywel pressed his fingertips into her deltoid muscles and pummelled away vigorously. ‘Mm, that’s nice. Keep doing it.’ Hywel worked away, noting with interest how her breasts shook slightly as he manipulated her back. And making her relax in this way seemed to soothe away his own nerves, for, finally, his manhood was beginning to swell. He stole a quick glance at Eleri to see if she’d noticed the bulge in his trousers. The direction of her gaze showed that she had indeed.

‘And just a few women are utter whores. They’ll undo the man’s trousers, and pull them down. Then his briefs, they have to come down too, so they can have an eyeful of his manhood. But not content with looking, they have to touch. They’ll close their fist round it, ever so gently, then start yanking away. But not too hard. They don’t want him to shoot his load. Not just yet.’

Hywel felt more timid than ever, as this speech went on and on. ‘And you know what? They’re quite happy to take him in their mouth, for goodness’ sake. I suppose you didn’t even know ladies ever did that…’

Hywel couldn’t look at her. Instead he consulted readout on the VCR in the corner, which showed it was now 15:25. Eleri rose and padded over to the hi-fi to change the CD. Hywel note the faint streak of white her bra-strap had left across her shapely back. The New Age music was replaced by a classical piece, which Hywel recognised as Ravel’s Bolero. ‘Ravel’s Bolero?’ thought Hywel to himself, who’d suddenly remember that that particular music was well-known as an accompaniment to lovemaking. Surely the suspense was over. It could now only be moments before this amazing lady flung herself on him.

Eleri turned to rejoin him. Her boobs swung lushly from side to side. Once more she cuddled up to him. But that was all. The orchestra continued their rendition of the Bolero right through to its climax.

At precisely 15:55, Eleri knelt on the carpet before him. Quite mechanically, she unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, which she then pulled down together with his briefs in one swift movement. She made a leisurely inspection of his penis, which jutted unashamedly forth in a manner which belied the intense self-consciousness Hywel still felt. Gripping him between thumb and forefinger, she pulled up and down, gently at first and then with increasing roughness. Still holding him lightly, she lowered her head and slid her pursed lips over his glans. She sucked it lightly, ever so lightly, and then pushed all the way down until the tight ring of her mouth was fastened round the base of his shaft. Hywel watched in fascination as her face, partially obscured by the cascading dark tresses which hung down to his belly, tickling him softly, rose slowly but rhythmically up down his glistening length. He could feel his climax approaching, and, lying back, he closed his eyes. Then suddenly the velvet grip was gone. Hywel roused himself, and saw that she was gazing at him with dark soulful eyes.

‘And there’s one last bit. The biggest bit of all. There are even a few women who’ll take all their clothes off, right their in front of the fella. They’ll make make him probe their slit with his finger, rubbing their clit in circles, while they cry out aloud and their pussy gets moister and moister. And finally, these unabashed harlots will climb aboard the man, absolutely starkers.’, she whispered in hushed, hypnotic tones. ‘And guide him in. They’ll sink down onto him, all the way. And then jerk up and down at a frantic pace, till the guy can’t hold back any more. Then he shoots his load in her. And slips out. Finished.’

Hywel was trembling with anticipation, and almost indeed with fear. As he cuddled up to Eleri, seeking reassurance, he had the presence of mind to note the time shown on the VCR. Just after 4. Could he survive the wait until half-past?

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