blueβ’stockβ’ing
(ΛbluΛstΙk ΙͺΕ)
n.
a woman with considerable literary or intellectual ability or interest.
[1780β90; orig., a member of a mid-18th-century London literary circle that included some women (so called from the blue stockings worn by a male participant)]
Random House Kernerman Webster's College Dictionary, (c) 2010 K Dictionaries Ltd. Copyright 2005, 1997, 1991 by Random House, Inc. All rights reserved.
Chapter One
It was then that I lost control. Somehow he rolled over me. I was pinned below him. His hard prick thrusting into my throat. I was choking. His cock seemed to be growing in size, filling my mouth. I knew all could do was swallow and try to breathe. He thrust deeper into me, his pubic bone smashing into my nose, I thought I could taste my own blood. His balls on my chin. I had gone too far, testing him beyond the bounds of a young man's self-control. If I lived I would never forget this night.
Sometimes you spend an eternity looking for something and then you realise it has been right there in plain sight all along. So it was for me.
I have always been attracted to older women, but hooking up with an older woman has usually been more difficult. When a twenty-four year old tries to date a woman twice his age, (in my experience), the woman rarely seems to take the approach seriously. Maybe I should be more thick-skinned and accept rejection, but I am thin skinned, every time it happens to me it hurts.
This tale starts the evening that a work colleague laughed when I tried to date her. Wendy was always laughing and joking, a tall willowy woman with a firm figure who had been widowed the year before. Last week for the first-time since widowhood she had come to a works barbecue. After a couple of drinks I plucked up courage to ask her out for a meal. She looked at me for a long moment then said with a tone of laughter in her voice, "No I'm not a cradle snatcher, I don't date boys." Later I saw her with some other women looking over at me and laughing. Embarrassed I slunk away, not just from them but away from the event.
When I got home I was near to tears. Aunt Adele, who is not really my aunt or anyone else's aunt, but is in fact my mothers cousin saw me on the stairs. I could not bare to hear her wittering on, in her awful gushing voice. I caught a glimpse of Therese, I avoided her too, what would she know of how I felt. I averted my face and scuttled quickly to my room. I had better explain, I live in a houseful of women. My grandmother on my mother's side, my mother, Aunt Adele, my two sisters, and Therese another cousin who is a recent addition to our mΓ©nage. Therese is a nun who for some reason, I have not been able to discover has left the convent after twenty-five years β oh yes and she is another of mother's cousins. She no longer wears her habit.
I'd better explain, apart from myself and grandma everyone who lives in this house is an academic. We live in a university town, our lives seem to revolve round the women's college, inappropriately named St Jude's. The women in this house are all involved in a feminist campaign to change the name of this hundred and fifty year old college to something more fitting. A female name, the favoured name being Mary Magdalene College, because according to mother and her cronies there is ample evidence that Mary M was Jesus wife. Heady stuff and loads of theology β not unexpected as mother was head of the Theology department, she also taught Women's Studies. Adele taught Canon Law as it relates to women. Therese the ex-nun, was a philosopher and at present works in the university library. My two sisters were both students, one an undergraduate the other a postgraduate research student. My Grandmother is a writer. Weirdly neither mother nor Grandmother saw the need to involve a man, so there was no father β no grandfather, although presumably at some time there were men. At times I felt that I was the token man, how I survived I do not know.
When Joe rushed into the house it was obvious to anyone, who saw him that he was upset. I tried to speak to him but through his grief he neither saw nor heard me. I followed him up the stairs. I was still climbing the stairs behind him, when his bedroom door crashed shut. Quietly I opened the door. Joe looked like a small boy, lying face down on his bed drumming the mattress with his fists, his body heaving with his half choked sobs.
"Joe do you want to talk about it."
No reply. I could not leave him alone, whether he knew it or not, I knew that he needed someone.
I sat myself on the bed beside him. He did not move away when I gently lay a hand on his shoulder. "Joe if you want to talk, I will listen."
What the hell would a nun know about how I felt. "Therese its not something I want to talk about."
"Joe sometimes talking is what helps no matter to who you talk. One thing you should know, is talking to me is whatever you say will not be shared with anyone else."
"I thought that was when I talked to a priest, anyway you're not even a nun any more β you've been defrocked or whatever."
"I laughed. Defrocked! No that is what they do to priests, to be honest I don't think there is an equivalent word for a nun who has left her order. De-habited might be a good one."
This made Joe laugh - "Like uninhabited!" He said laughing. "No one living in you Therese."
Living in me β with me β penetrating me. The stuff of my dreams β my obsession. "No Joe, there is no one for me."
"I guess that makes us two lonely people Therese. No one for me and no one for you."
"Is that why you are so upset?"
"I don't want to discuss it." His body tightened, his voice clipped, his shoulder stiffened.
"Joe if you don't want to talk I will just sit with you." To be honest I liked the feel of his firm body beneath the palm of my hand.
Joe wriggled getting himself comfortable. "OK I'll talk this is confidential right?"
"Of course it is β I promise I'll tell nobody. Tell you what I'll start you off. The way you were sobbing either your dog has died, a close family member is dead or near death or it is a matter of the heart."
Joe gave a half laugh. "Not quite the heart Therese more like sex. Do you want to carry on β I mean you being a nun an all that."
"Ex-nun, I've been de habited remember. And for your information even nuns know what sex is, thinking too much about sex results in being kicked out of the order β being de habited!"
