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The confessions of a justified sinner.

"Denise you weren't explicit about your vulnerability."

"Oh God Ian. I have never been like I've been with you with a man in my life." I waited.

"It was a revelation to me when it happened. Letting myself do what you demanded of me like that. Taking instructions and responding like that."

"And?"

"And it was fantastic. Absolutely wonderful."

She then told me of her previous relationships which were always dependent upon her, either determining how things would go or reciprocal.

"So you're happy for us to explore that side of you and me?"

"Try me Ian."

I took another risk.

"I noticed you have a little garden on your balcony."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

I challenged her to guess.

"Make me strip on the balcony?"

"No."

"You'll make me fuck on the balcony?"

"That's a really good idea but not what I was thinking of."

"The plants. The tubs. The pots. Wait a minute." She blushed and laughed at the same time.

"You bastard Ian. The bloody canes are out there. Christ. You are a dirty bastard aren't you?"

"Well?"

"I can't think that far. You're far ahead of me. Let's get out of here Ian."

We gathered our stuff together not bothering to put on our coats, which enabled pub regulars to scan her as we left and I hailed a taxi to her place.

In the cab I asked her if she had noticed the young guy sitting in the opposite couch. No she hadn't. A pity because he was enjoying you. Really? I pointed out that he had moved from the bar to sit there. So? He enjoyed looking at you. She hadn't noticed anything. I pointed out that she was an object of his lust as he gaped at her cleavage and thighs. I noticed how she had opened her thighs at one stage and he enjoyed the view. What view? Not sure but I was certain he was able to see above her stockings at least to her flesh. She just beamed at the thought.

Arriving at her home, we cuddled in the lift. Denise went to get drinks as I contemplated the balcony. I decided the length and thickness of the cane would be just right.

Opening the plugged bottle Denise poured some red wine for both of us. We resumed our respective seating opposite each other but close. I took in her body exuding warmth and quiet sexuality. She had undone her blouse a button or two so I was the beneficiary of much more delightful cleavage.

"So Ian has it been a lifetime's sexual interest in your Mother?"

"Fuck Denise you don't beat about do you?"

"No. Did it start in adolescence?"

"Depends what you mean by start. My sexual interest occurred then but it wasn't explicit. I just used to dream about her in bed."

"Masturbating Ian?"

"Exactly."

"When then?"

Well her jealousy of girls diverted me and I went underground as far as women were concerned until my marriage. She just about tolerated my wife. I suppose the turn came when I came back to London to stay with her because of work. Before I regaled her with the details I checked her out.

"Denise I haven't ever been this open about this. I'm not sure I can go further."

"Ian I do understand. Let me tell you I had a love affair with my uncle when I was 15 so I know the need for secrecy. I trust you Ian and I am willing to tell you all you may wish to know about him and me. No one else knows about that. I am just very curious about how it happened with your Mother. So trust me."

I must have visibly relaxed at that moment. I took another swig of wine and told the story of how once I had settled in at her flat (and my original home) I had suspected she was looking at me in bed whilst I read porn stories, how I began to listen and then watch her in bed. Then how it became tacitly accepted that we watched each other masturbating. I conveyed how exciting it became, how my Aunt had intervened and we had dealt with that and how it was still unfolding.

She had, of her own volition, begun to open her thighs and slipped her fingers across her cunt, sweeping juices between her vagina and her clit. I was hard.

"Lift your nipples out of your bra. Suck them."

Without any hesitation she did just that.

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