I must have dozed off finally, and slid into a deep sleep.
When I awoke the following morning, the sun was streaming in through the open window and Helen had gone. As I lay there on my back, the sheets twisted around me, all of the mental turmoil of the previous night rushed back into my head. Helen! Andrew! The bastard . . .
On my back, I stared up at the ceiling. I hadn't been mistaken, had I? She had groaned his name, hadn't she? A small seed of doubt niggled at me. I turned and looked at the bedside clock. 10.30am! I really had slept in. I flipped off the sheets, laying there naked, allowing myself the luxury of the sun on my torso. I stretched and used both hands to scratch my balls. The result of our lovemaking had given my pubic hair an unusual stiffness. Rolling out of bed, I trailed into the bathroom to empty my bladder. Watching the steady stream of yellow splash around the toilet bowl, my mind kept replaying those final, climatic moments from last night. Damn, I better get a grip on myself. I shook the last drops from my penis, flushed, grabbed a towel, and headed down the hallway, confident I'd not run into anyone this late in the morning.
Giving a cursory knock on Penny's door, I entered. As expected, nobody there. I cast a look around her room . . . nothing to indicate our tryst of the other day. Dropping the towel on the end of the bed, I ran the shower until there was a stream of lukewarm water then stepped in. I just stood there, letting the water cascade over me, trying to shake myself out of the mood I'd sunk into. Sighing, I reached for the soap and washed the remaining evidence of last night's sex from my body.
Rinsing off, I stood there in a contemplative mood, letting the water stream over me. What should I do? Act as though nothing had happened? Play the outraged husband? Jerking out of my reverie, I turned off the water and stepped out into Penny's room. Was it really only yesterday that she had toyed with me . . . My cock twitched.
Reaching for the towel, I briskly dried myself, recalling the lingerie she'd left on the bed the last time I was in here alone. Where was it now, I wondered. Standing still, I listened intently. It was totally silent in the house. Taking a chance, I went round the bed to the wardrobe, and opened the door. There were three drawers set into the lower corner, and opening each in quick succession, I discovered she kept her lingerie in the top one. It was all neatly folded, and laid out in small piles. Slips, camisoles, panties and bras. I gently fingered a few, trying not to disturb the order. They felt soft and wispy to my touch. I was impressed that a lady of her seniority should keep such a fine supply of underwear. I looked down at myself, conscious that my cock had grown a little heavier. Pervert, I thought.
Ah well, I thought, in for a penny . . . (ha ha!). Where does she keep her soiled underwear? In the laundry hamper, of course. Lifting the lid of the basket, the container was half full of clothing. Lifting a couple of blouses, I was rewarded with the sight of three pairs of panties, and a bra. The bra was interesting in so far as it was not exactly built for support, more for show. I picked it up and ran my fingers over the lace cups, deciding it wouldn't hide much. Naughty little Penny, I thought. My cock swung out into a semi-erection. Picking up the panties, I bunched them in my fist, and raised them to my nose, inhaling the musky scent of Penny's cunt. My prick stiffened to a respectable hard-on, and I felt a little drool ease out of the tip. Wow! I said to myself. Now is not the time . . . Dropping everything back in the hamper, I replaced the lid, grabbed my towel and exiting her room, headed down the hall to get dressed.
I slid into some shorts, and pulling on a T, headed downstairs for some breakfast. All this mental exercise had given me an appetite. I rustled up some fresh bread, cold ham and hunk of cheese while water boiled for coffee.
As I finished grinding some coffee, a voice called from the lounge. "I'll have some please."
Penny!
I laid my breakfast out on a tray, and added an extra mug. Carrying it into the living room, I saw Penny had made herself comfortable in an armchair by the open window. The view outside was stunning, hills covered with lush green vegetation backed by a clear blue sky. Setting my loaded tray on the table in front of the window, I perched on the arm of the chair opposite Penny, and poured her a coffee. She put the book she'd been reading to one side, and accepted the mug from me with a smile of thanks.
I slid from the arm into the chair, and sat there looking at her. She smiled again, sipping on the hot liquid.
'What's up?" she asked.
Good question, I thought to myself. We sat there in silence. We must have been alone, as the rest of the house was quiet. Picking up my plate, I chewed on a piece of bread, and bit off a hunk of cheese, contemplating an answer. What should I say? What could I say. Your son is fucking my wife? No - not a good response.
We sat there silently, and Penny returned to her book as I gazed silently at the scene out of the window. The morning breeze was warm, drifting in through the open window. Sipping on my coffee, I came to a decision.
"Help me out with this one please Penny." I said.
She slipped a bookmark into the page, closed the book, put it on the table, folded her hands in her lap and looked at me expectantly.
"I have a dilemma . . . and it involves two people that are close to us."
I hesitated, but she remained mute.
"Helen and . . ."
"Andrew." she finished for me.
"You know?" I asked, taken aback.
"Well." she said "Not 'know' exactly, but guessed."
I sat there in a slightly stunned state. Was it that obvious? Gazing at Penny sitting there, I wondered just how much she really knew, and how much she would share with me.
