Chapter 01: Angelique
I plan to add further scenes to this first one. As yet I only have an amorphous idea of where it is going to go. There is the obvious route of the mother's seduction, but also I may include Angelique's husband in some capacity. I really haven't decided yet.
Thank you to ProofreadManx for the suggestions and edit. Some suggestions I've taken, others I've let slip. Any errors in this scene are entirely mine. I hope this is enjoyed by you, the reader.
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If a house has stood for over three hundred years it is sure to hold secrets; and of course, having no voice, its secrets will remain uncovered as the generations pass and living memory fades. Just such a place exists in anonymous, serene silence, hidden from view, surrounded by trees, and ever ready to accept yet another example of humanity's secrets.
As the spring dawn broke with its promise of warm sunshine and a cloudless blue sky, Lawrence looked out from his bedroom window and again felt the sweet rush of his homecoming. The rigours of university life over the preceding three months had taken their toll on the young man. The constant demands of course work and his recent rise to captaincy of the rugby team were unrelenting, but it wasn't until this very morning that Lawrence realised fully just how heavy his work load had been. The view from his window of the flat, green lawn and well kept gardens, known to him since his earliest memory, offered him a sense of familiar permanence and security. To be home, again, in Cambridgeshire on such a morning, and with the day's promise laid out before him, made Lawrence eager for the free outdoors. Even though his family employed two groundsmen to keep the lawns and gardens tidy, Lawrence had always loved to work outside, especially on days such as this, and he became enthusiastic to take on some hard, physical work.
So it was that an hour later that Lawrence was to be seen helping Joseph, one of the groundsmen carry cords of wood to the storehouse at the side of the manor. Joseph, a young fellow only a year or two older than Lawrence, would build tidy piles of logs outside the large shed next to the senior groundsman's workshop, from where Lawrence would collect them. His route took him under his widowed mother's second story bedroom window, and it was at this point on his final shuttle, that his mother threw open the curtains and was framed by the sash. Lawrence halted, his eyes, drawn by the movement, flicked upwards. At first he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing, but then the shock hit him, like he'd been doused with ice cold water when he realised his mother was naked. The shock was quickly replaced by a hot flush of embarrassment, but for some reason Lawrence couldn't move from his position, and what was worse, he couldn't drag his gaze from his mother's nudity. He knew he should avert his eyes, propriety demanded it, just as he knew he should move from the spot below his mother's bedroom, but he was powerless to do so.
Lawrence had never contemplated his mother's femininity before, and why should he? She was his mother, her sexuality was none of his concern, but to see her as she was, bordered by the wooden window with the thick green of the ivy softening the edges, he felt the illicit image of his mother's mature ripeness pound his senses.
His breath caught in his throat while his penis stirred and thickened in an involuntary reaction as his brain captured every exquisite, forbidden, physical detail of the figure so visible in the upstairs window.
Of Italian descent, his mother's near flawless skin was a light, golden brown. Her hair, tousled by sleep, fell to her shoulders in fine waves. Despite her being beyond forty, her breasts were round and proportioned, tipped by the dark coins of her areola with small nipples like small pebbles. The shape of everything revealed so candidly captivated him completely. Certainly no longer a slip of a girl, his mother's figure remained shapely and showed little sign of her mature years.Her narrow waist flared to agreeably wide hips, and Lawrence could just see the tops of her firm, athletic thighs, but the contemptible wall obscured his view of her knees and calves. Lawrence's gaze moved to the hypnotic vision of his mother's pubic bush. He had a sudden spark of taboo eroticism as he imagined her vulva. How would she taste? What would she look like spread across her bed, her legs wide in surrender, the pink core of her body exposed? Then he looked up to his mother's face and saw her eyes.
She was looking right back at him, staring at him in fact. Their eyes met and just for a moment, a sliver of time so fleeting that afterwards Lawrence couldn't decide if he'd imagined it or if it was real. He thought he saw her smirk slightly while striking a pose, her hip tilted to one side as the thigh pushed forwards, and in the next instant she was gone.
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The river Cam is a familiar feature to those passing through the city of Cambridge as either under graduate or as one of the city's many visitors. It is particularly pleasant to stroll along its banks on warm, English summer evenings, especially if a young man fancies showcasing a pretty girl on his arm. The atmosphere lends itself naturally to romance, and on that evening, in 1937, many courting couples could be seen by any casual observer sitting on the benches outside The Oarsman public house. Many carefree pairs were taking a stroll that evening, making the most of England's quirky early-summer sunshine. There was one particular couple, however, where the young man was anything but carefree, and the pretty girl with him wasn't his girlfriend or even fiancé. She was his sister.
Lawrence and Angelique had always been close. As children, with Angelique being two years his senior, Lawrence had sought the girl out whenever he was troubled or needed answers to his myriad childhood questions. For her part, Angelique had loved the role of guardian and confidant, and in recent years she had been privy to her brother's burgeoning sexual awakening and his subsequent experiences. It seemed entirely natural to Lawrence that he should seek guidance on these matters from his sister. Their close childhood meant that he felt completely open and at ease sharing his thoughts, feelings, and emotions with Angelique, and it was this morning's revelations that he was telling her about as they walked along the tow-path towards Angelique's town house.
'Our mother? You saw Mama nude?' The broad smile on the girl's face showed amusement. 'Oh, poor Larry,' she smirked, 'whatever's the matter with that?' Angelique hooked her arm through her brother's and laughed at his worried face. 'Do you not think it was an accident?' Then her face turned sly as she continued: 'Or do you think she openly flaunted herself at you?'
Lawrence stopped and turned to his sister. 'I'm really not sure.' He paused carefully to form his next phrase. 'It's as though she posed for me intentionally, Angelique. She was at the window for a long time, well a long moment, at least.' Lawrence's smooth brow furrowed with concentration. 'Then she stared right at me and struck a sort of pose, as though I was taking a photograph of her...' Lawrence then shook his head with consternation.
Angelique waited before asking, 'And how did that make you feel?'
Lawrence was too cocooned in his world of worry to notice the thickness in his sister's tone, her earlier amusement gone like a puff of smoke on a breeze.
'How did I feel? Oh, god!' Lawrence groaned and pulled his arm free from his sister's as he covered his face with his hands. 'I was staring at her... staring at her body...'
'Her body?' Angelique questioned; her voice low and intense. 'Tell me, please, brother dear, tell me what you saw.'
There was something in his sister's tone that caused Lawrence to pause and examine her face for a moment, a look in her eyes that he'd never seen before. It was disconcerting; like he was looking at his beloved sister and seeing her in a new light, as though there was some hidden, undefined quality in her he'd never recognised before. Lawrence shook his head briefly as though clearing his muddled thoughts. He thought it must be the confusion he felt over his current dilemma and he began to tell Angelique what he had seen.
