Gain Access to Member Area

Signup for the free Bronze membership (it takes 20 seconds), which gives you access to not only the full 15,000+ story library, but also the exclusive member area with lots of cool features like: Voting on stories, Bookmarking stories, searching for stories, reccommended stories, member forums, profiles and much more!.

Click here to create your free account



Story Info

Posting Date 2010-08-11 21:21:23
Author Lynridskinrid
Title After Monza
Category experienced oral sex
Where it happend Monza
Age then 26
Age now 26
Viewed 390
Story Length 1889

(12 votes / 79 points)

Rate this story











Bookmark this story! View Authors Profile!
Send comments to Author. View Authors BookMarks
Report this story to the admin!

Back to latest search results

After Monza


After spending the weekend like a whirling dervish crisscrossing Europe , I got the Monday evening Phone call from mother . I think that being the baby of the family she still likes to fuss . “We didn’t see you at the weekend “, she crowed !.

They have to fly to Greece on Wednesday morning an aincient aunt has died and the Greeks don’t waste time with ceremonial lying in state , they start the funeral arrangements for the next day if they can . I think she was a little melancholic , this was the last of the generation before her . They had all made 90+ years and the last ten years seemed dotted with Funerals at alarmingly regular periods . The old ladies were always black clad , and their olive skin deeply wrinkled , their faces tanned by the sun that they avoided like a curse upon them . They were proudly orthodox Christians, although the Sunday morning church service was a central meeting point, where the price of sheep and oil seemed to ring in precedence over the Papas’ half spoken half sung sermon. These ladies cowelled in their black headscarves used to squeeze and prod at you , too thin , too tall , too loud , they gave a running critique on your development , and I knew enough of the language to know that I was no oil painting . Avoiding a family marriage to their lazy overweight chauvinistic sons was a great aim in all girls lives , and I aimed well .

Mother had two days though to get there , and the early flight to Athens on Wednesday morning they have booked on the 06:20 out of Terminal 5 on the British Airways schedule . That will get them there by 11:00 and they have booked a car to take them to Gythio which is 260 kM south , the journey should take three and a half hours , the funeral is at 16:30 so they have a busy day . There will be a couple of days of mourning and face kissing to follow so they have turned it into a holiday . The whole trip is now ten days . They have cousins to discuss property with , they have nephews and nieces to kiss and praise . Their ten days will be no fun , and to compensate Father has arranged a few days in the beautiful peaceful Island of Patmos , they are getting there by foil and ferry and mother , proudly Anglican , will take the opportunity to pray like two thousand years of her ancestors at the cave of St John . She will fall back to her roots and will go native . She speaks the Greek taught at her mother’s knee like a local , she will shout and throw tantrums in every Taverna , like her fellow countrymen . Father will mutter “ bloody strange talk to me “ , under his breath , and she will love every moment .

Mother has some land inherited from the childless Aunt , and already two of her cousins have offered her money to take her share off her hands . When you mention money and property in the same sentence , father’s ears prick up like a hunting dog on a scent . Especially when the desire to take the worthless costal hill land is so urgent . They are underestimating her , she has a very sharp brain , and if they think that the English Girl is a push over then they are making a mistake , the Αγγλικά κορίτσι will give them a shock . She has had builders in tears before , and nobody in the family will play cards with her , her icy smile gives nothing away , then when they think she doesn’t understand she strikes , with an action that belittles a starving cobra . I would put money on the cousins getting the poorer part of the deal .
Well the upshot is I had to take my car to work in the London traffic , and drive to Hampshire so mother can watch me eat one meal , in case I waste away whilst she has gone . I eat well but I don’t put weight on .My sister says that childbirth will change that , and after the second my hips will develop proportions like a prospector’s saddlebags . She was slender in her youth but has rounded out as she passed her mid thirties , Anna the eldest , has rounded even more exaggeratedly as her diet of fast food enhanced by chips has given her a rear reminiscent of an Aberdeen Angus steer .
I didn’t mind mothers poking and inspection, although she always reminded me of the witch in Handsel and Gretel, poking too sees if the children are fat enough to eat. I hit the A3 south crossing the swarms of cars huddled together on the London gyratory motorway , and finding the gears on the Porsche , it growled as it stretched into its full touring mode and I flicked the cruise control to hold a steady ninety five . There is a large tunnel being built on this route and I was conscious of passing it before the swarm of commuters exiting London like the fleeing refugees in a disaster movie started to overload and jam the road.
Needless to say, by five o’clock she was pressing my stomach and complaining that there is nothing of me, and that I don’t take proper meals, I don’t eat proper food .I had a vision that she might spoon feed me a couple of litres of Olive Oil to build up my calorie intake, but I was spared that and a deep rich pie, with suet pastry and beef kidney flavouring the tender shin meat appeared before me. I rejected wine in favour of water , wine and Porsche cars do not mix as more than one film star can testify to as they made their way to their early graves
The whole purpose was to give me a grilling over the weekend and get all the detail , as well as chastising me over giving Rosie a severe rocket in the rear , about assuming that I would let her and her boyfriend spend a couple of days at my apartment in London . She a agreed with the principle, but apparently I was a little aggressive, and had told the silly bitch to “Fuck Off !!!!! “ . My eldest sister had done the tearful phone call top mother about my language , and I was being , at 26 years old , scalded for my terrible repartee . The remainder of the pie was secured into the Porsche’s tiny boot .
By six PM , we sat drinking coffee she was imparting the benefit of her experience of love and suggesting that virginity was not as important as it is cracked up to be . I reminded her that I was not all together Virgo Intacta . She must think it grows back after lack of use . I chose the moment and stated something along the lines of well at least English girls don’t roll over onto their bellies to save their hymen . She laughed and told me that was a legacy from the days gone by , her mothers generation valuing their virginity highly , and possibly in the rural areas it still was the same today . She added “ was you considering it Darling ! “ . I flushed red , scarlet , Luminescent pink , she laughed even louder at my embarrassment . Daddy came back into the room to see what caused the shrieks of laughter . he saw my face , and mother was explaining that , Lynne was thinking that the old Greek ways may have merit , he joined in . This was not funny . They tortured me without mercy; the more I squirmed the more they laughed... Not amused, really not amused.

I got indoors, and as the succulent pie took a prominent position in my fridge, the phone rang. Peter was missing me already. He asked about my day, and like an idiot I related the conversation. He stayed quiet, and I could hear his brain churning. You can forget that, I told him. He started by telling me he was naked on the bed looking into the photograph of me which had him solidly erect.
When I was in Monza, I struck up a log conversation with the Receptionist, who had done a Hospitality and Travel Type Degree at Oxford Brookes University, which is separate to Oxford that has stood for the last five hundred years. She made a couple of jokey remarks about having a secret tryst with my Fiancé to test the compatibility in bed. Well she got put straight! I did say we were intimate but not in the fullest sense. Why does it fascinate people that I have chosen to “give “” I to him on our wedding night, It really does seem odd, I expect in the world at large promiscuity is the normal way of things, everything else the strange.

Well in our “girly “discussions, she mentioned “Fire & Ice”, I have never heard of this at all. Well on that Friday night Peter found out what it was as I practiced. And that was still ringing in his brain as we entwined our minds in the phone call.

I laid him head to bed bottom, toes to headboard, and put a pillow on his chest for me to lie on. I took a sip of hot , milk less tea into my mouth , he couldn’t see this .or didn’t realise , then tight lipped engulfed him with the hot tea swilling around in my mouth . Stupid boy, yelps, “Cor you are HOT!!! “. Well the tea sloshed around his most sensitive parts as it cooled, and it had a strong sensational effect on him. I swallowed the now Luke warm tea, and took a sip from a glass of iced water, holding a couple of ice cubes and a little water. I enclosed him, and he got a second sensation that he was not used to .The ice melted quickly, and the Tea replaced it. Well I didn’t need to drink the whole cup of either liquid , because the sensation changes seemed to trigger him to a faster start than a Space Shuttle , The first few inches are slow and then the take off was sensational .

As the strands of quick drying sperm laid across his chest and onto his neck and chin, all he could manage to say, was” what the Fuck did you do “. I rocketed him for language, but his eyes were partially glazed over.

So on the phone I told him how my tongue would encircle him and flick across the empty slit until that salty pre lubrication fluid rose to my attentions. I knew that he was stroking himself and I slipped off my dress. Let’s go to a web cam he suggested. No way! No , electronic images of my body parts are not crossing the world as a series of binary numbers ready to reassemble into a facsimile of me . I have a complex set of blade servers here , shared with my Uncle and Aunt , and it would give him a great thrill to see his niece holding herself close up to the camera , It isn’t going to happen now , or ever .
He seems to be very quick of late, which I put down to too little practice and have a scheme to cure that when he gets home.

Love Lynne


Gain Access to Member Area

Signup for the free Bronze membership (it takes 20 seconds), which gives you access to not only the full 15,000+ story library, but also the exclusive member area with lots of cool features like: Voting on stories, Bookmarking stories, searching for stories, reccommended stories, member forums, profiles and much more!.

Click here to create your free account