New! Planning is Everything

Editor's note: This is a fictional short story involving adults. This is a story for adults involving adults. All characters are aged 18 and above.

Sir Charles

Summary:

While Gary's parents are away on a trip, he stays with his Grandmother Jane. Secretly the young man lusts after her and decides to"take" her.....

************************* 

   It was just the chance he needed, Gary reflected. Being told by a somewhat sheepish pair of parents that they would simply love to get away for a long skiing weekend in the French alps... the first chance for them in several years... but it would only be possible if he could please look after the place for them. Already it was very late in the skiing season with only the highest resorts in France having the necessary snow cover. Please, please... the pleading oozed out of their combined gaze.

   Yes, definitely a major step towards both adolescent liberation... and embarcation on a certain project of his, now in the planning for many a long month.

   Yes, of course, don't worry about me. I'll be fine. There's always Gran I can turn to.
   He watched his parents retreating gratefully from his room, obviously in a state of massive relief at gaining his blessing on the venture. Clearly, they had been considering it for quite a while but wanting to keep the break all for themselves. Fair enough, he mused, they scarcely had much alone time together, running the family business. Almost always, the presence of one if not both of them was required in the shop six days a week. They could not afford to hire full-time staff - and this small holiday itself still required miracles of pleading and cajoling of the two part-timers if the shop was to remain open during their absence. Yes, fair enough... and particularly as it fitted in with his own plans...

************************* 

   Jane stopped her attempts to clear the garden border for a moment and mopped her brow. Despite the early Spring chill, she felt a work-generated glow and realised she needed to slow down. Perhaps too many layers..? Taking off her gardening gloves, she pulled her sweater up and over her head and, walking over to the back door, left it hanging there on the handle. The warm cotton shirt would be enough. She strolled back to the line of lavender bushes and looked rather wearily at all the work still to be done on this one patch. Trimming the plants themselves, cutting off the dead flower stalks and then weeding in between.

   She sighed. Still, it had to be done... the Summer plantings due in a few weeks time could otherwise not take place. Her eyes glazed over with the memory of Phil, her husband, who used to take such a pride in attending to all of this. Taken from her cruelly by a stroke several years back, well before his time, he had been quite the horticulturalist. Some of it had rubbed off on her, without doubt... and she knew that this was the bare minimum which needed doing... what Phillip, if he were looking down on her, would be expecting.

   She sank down onto the kneeling pad she had placed carefully and renewed her trowel's attack on the encroaching weeds, throwing the uprooted villains into the waste bag alongside. Casually, she tossed her long, salt-and-pepper hair to remove it from her field of vision. The action, being visible from the adjoining public pavement, attracted the attention of a passing pair of youths who could already make out, even from a back view, her trim and attractive figure in the light cotton shirt. One of them gave a low but audible wolf whistle, probably unaware that he was dealing with a sixty-four year old. Not turning, a gentle smile came to Jane's lips even though she made no acknowledgement. 

   Phil's stroke had been a wake-up call for Jane to keep herself in shape. She had taken out gym membership and made frequent walks both in the immediate locality and out beyond Nottingham... Sherwood Forest, Rutland Water... and also as part of her occasional weekend getaways to the coast. As grandmothers went, she kept herself very active... and was certainly no frump. The wolf whistle was justified.

   She loved being by the sea - Nottingham was just so land-locked, and she felt tied down to it. Jane had often contemplated moving but was torn between doing so and the memories of family life permeating this house... that and the fact that her son and family lived not far away next to their florist's business. Thoughts of wolf whistles and, well, men in general hardly entered her head. In all but name she was still in mourning these many years later for Phil, the love of her life. She had never really been able to cut herself loose from it. The feeling held her prisoner in a way which was all too easy to go along with. In this house she was comfortable and knew where everything was, even if it could be said to be too big for her needs. With family close by, why go to the certain expense and huge upheaval that a move would mean?

   Thoughts of family brought Gary, her grandson, to mind. She wondered if she could expect a visit this weekend either from him alone, as had been happening quite often recently, or in the company of his parents. Gary looked so much like Steven, his father. It really was uncanny. He had begun to fill out, too, becoming quite the young man. She always enjoyed his visits, when they talked sports and outdoor pursuits over cups of tea or coffee. Activity matters were something which had been a constant theme in the family, cascading down the generations. 

She and Phil had passed on their love of winter sports to Isobel... and she in turn had found herself a husband in the shape of Steven who shared the same passion. A shame only, she thought, that the demands of the family business allowed for so little time off. They were prisoners of it in all but name - prisoners like her, but of a different kind.

   Sighing, she continued her attack on the lavender patch tidying, a fairly mechanical and repetitive affair which allowed her to pursue thoughts of that possible move to the coast. Would she ever or not? It was almost at the level of an idle consideration, something which as a self-indulgent speculation cost her nothing...
                                                

************************* 

   A week goes past quickly at the best of times... and, what with luggage arranging, tickets, passports and currency matters - but most of all making things "just so" at the shop - Steven and Isobel had seen it go past in a veritable flash. It seemed to them, as they drove off, waving goodbye to their teenage son, that they would need this break simply for the purpose of getting over the necessary preparation for it. Still, Morzine now beckoned, a travel agent offer which had been too good to refuse, and they were on their way. They could relax and enjoy themselves from here on in. Unwind.

   Gary too had not been idle this last week. As he made his way back into the house, he was still thanking his lucky stars that the recent arrival of the small package which he had ordered had gone unnoticed, despite happening in the middle of the "grand departure". He went to fish it out from the hall store cupboard where it had been hastily thrown after receipt from the courier. Ok, in a plain wrapper and with a false name on the address, as stipulated, but he would still not have wanted it being opened by either of his parents. Having made a coffee for himself in the kitchen, he applied a sharp knife from the rack to its covering. Carefully he drew out from the manila envelope a smaller plastic bag... and from this, in turn, a pair of large manacles or shackles which threw a chrome-plated gleam onto the ceiling. At the moment, they were a single item, joined together by six inches of chain, although he had plans for that. There was no lock or key... simply a quick-engage/release lever mechanism on each. He tested this out carefully, noting with pleasure the smooth click of the apparatus as it opened and closed, seemingly with no tendency to scrape or jam. Excellent... this was precisely what he had done so much research to find.

   Finishing his cup, he went upstairs to his parents' room and, kneeling down, placed his new possession on the floor underneath the foot of the double bed, where they were just hidden from view by the drooping duvet. Experimentally, he positioned them in different places relative to the two corner posts, shifting them slightly this way and that by a few inches, making a judgement as to the ideal location. Satisfied with his assessment, he scooped them back up again and went downstairs to the garage workshop to carry out his intended alterations.

************************* 

   'Now, don't you worry about anything. I'll be over with all the necessary stuff and we'll have a lovely meal together. I'm sure there'll be enough left over for you to have either tomorrow or Sunday and then you'll only have to cook just the once for yourself. Or, you could go and get a take-away, knowing you!'
   Jane's enthusiasm was real. She was surprised at Gary's call but even more so at Isobel's lack of preparing anything in advance for the boy to eat. This disturbed her a little. Even so it was, she thought, a nice chance to spend some time with her grandson and cook for him as she did for the whole family when they visited. She knew that Gary had a partiality to lamb and she just happened to have some lamb shanks in the freezer.

   'Ok, then... I'll be over about six and we should be eating around seven to seven thirty. Will that do you, young man?', she teased.

   A gentle smile played over Gary's features as he continued playing his game.
   'Oh, great... yes, Gran... so looking forward to it... see you then. Yes, bye then.'
   He heard the click as Jane replaced the receiver and did the same himself. For a short time, he sat staring vacantly into the distance, as if considering some deeply troubling thought. Then he shook his head as if to clear it, rose from his seat and went up to his parents' bedroom. He had planned this meticulously and allowed himself no room for error. He was determined to enter the room and view all as if with fresh eyes... those of his grandmother. Was anything amiss? Did anything look out of place or suspicious? He went over to the curtains opposite the door and drew them to a semi-closed position... nothing inside viewable from the exterior while the small opening left would give no grounds for suspecting any prior planning.

   The double bed lay in between. Luke positioned himself standing at its foot and cast his gaze about. Yes, all perfectly normal looking... almost. To his left, on the stretch of wall adjacent to the doorway which faced one long side of the bed hung the framed poster which he had ordered stealthily from the internet. It had arrived a couple of days previously and he had put it up just before making the call to Jane. It was somewhat garish in bright red, blue and yellow and purported to illustrate with black stick figures the various body positions required in skiing. Did it jar? On balance, he thought not... the skiing aspect was a convincing piece of "realia"... and, like it or not, it could not be changed now. It was a part of the plan.

   He went around the bed to stand in front of it and consider what he intended to happen. He gestured vaguely at the chart and then pointed more pronouncedly. He then turned, almost swirling around, and dropped to his knees. Reaching underneath the bed, his hand easily found one half of the shackles and snapped it shut around his own wrist. The work of a mere few seconds, all this. In a more leisurely way, he then pushed the quick release lever and groped for the other half, a yard away but like its twin now attached by a short length of sturdy cable to the bedpost at floor level.

   Yes, all seemed prepared... and he pushed the two restraints back a little way under the bed, out of sight but within the necessary easy reach. Only one matter remained to be done. Going back around the bed to the other long side, he removed from his pocket two of his mother's own nylon stockings, as worn on special, "seductive" occasions in respect of his father. He tied one firmly by its end to each bedpost, again out of sight down close to the floor. Experimentally, he judged their remaining length in relation to the demands of his plan... yes, that ought to be fine...

   Taking one final scan of the whole room, he nodded to himself in approval and then made his way back downstairs. Time, he thought, for some gaming, before his grandmother's arrival... no point in getting over-nervous... a distraction was called for, but it was hard not feel a sense of nervousness as he played. He remembered the first time in his life that he had been confronted physically with a woman's naked body... it had been three years ago when Gary and his parents had been at her house to take her out to a restaurant birthday meal. He had gone up to use the restroom, but instead had been confronted with its door semi open, and fate had led him to witness his grandmother coming out of the shower. 

   He had been frozen in place, aroused and mesmerised by what he was seeing. Reaching for her towel to dry herself, Jane had had no idea that all of her washed, wet, mature body was on show to the boy before, to compound matters, her towel had slipped off. She had retrieved it hastily, bending over and unwittingly offering to young Gary a generous view of her intimate parts, before disappearing into her bedroom, thinking herself unobserved. She had not caught sight of the youngster who had just rounded the corridor corner and stopped in his tracks at the display of naked flesh. 

   It had been a watershed moment for Gary. His mid-teenage testosterone stream had been switched into a flood.. . and he had been lusting after his grandmother ever since.

************************* 

   Jane smoothed her somewhat summery dress over her hips as she sat down to eat, realising for the first time that the selection had been a mite premature - the recent rise in temperature was being contradicted by the early dusk conspicuous through the dining room window. Starting on her meal, she noted with satisfaction the earnest way in which Gary's lamb shank was being tackled. Possibly dinner was served just a little later than he would normally have eaten but, even so, the boy was putting the food away with obvious relish. He had always enjoyed her cooking... more so, she allowed herself to think, than his own mother's.

   "Boy"... she mused, sitting opposite him and eating from her own plate, I'll have to stop calling him that soon. Just look at those shoulders...
   For some reason she could not quite fathom, she found the train of thought more than slightly troubling.

   'So, what will you be doing with the rest of your weekend? Saturday's usually the day for meeting up with your school pals, isn't it - or will you be deep into exam revision even tomorrow?'

   'No, that can wait till Sunday. I've arranged with some of the guys to go bowling in town.' Gary had some difficulty getting the words out in between mouthfuls of the roast potatoes, lamb and mint sauce.

   Jane had few doubts that there was probably a fair proportion of gals among the mentioned guys... but then, these days, did "guy" not also include the female of the species? Times moved on, she observed, and wondered whether she herself was not still too stuck in the past in various ways. She changed the subject yet again.

   'Have you heard from your Mum and Dad yet? Surely they should have got to their hotel some while back..?'

   Finishing the last morsels on his plate and laying down knife and fork, Gary dabbed his napkin to his lips.

   'Just a text to say exactly that. It seems they had problems with their hire car but managed to sort it out eventually. Anyway, they asked me to acknowledge so I've done that. They now have the whole weekend in front of them to enjoy. They can relax.'

   Something about that sentiment seemed to evoke a thought in his mind, Jane noticed as she finished her own food, since his face suddenly took on a different look.

   'Er... Gran...' his voice faltered just a little, 'something in the skiing chat before they left has got me puzzled. There's this stance... the "snowplough"..? I've seen it on TV but I don't quite get how you position your body. You and Granddad were into skiing a lot, right? How precisely do you do it? It's needed for stopping... am I right?'

   'Well, there's really not a lot to it...'

   He interrupted, wanting to put across another matter.

   'Mum and Dad have a wall chart up in their room with the main skiing body positions marked on it... maybe I'm looking at it in the wrong way..? Can you come with me and show me what I'm doing stupidly?'

   'Yes, OK,' Jane pondered briefly, 'we can deal with the washing up afterwards. Lead the way.'
   The two left the dinner plates and other assembled tableware and headed out of the dining room, turning to head up the stairs, Gary going first and looking around occasionally as if to check that Jane really was following. Entering the parents' room, he gestured her ahead of him and motioned towards the eponymous skiing poster.

   'Take a look... it's number 15. What exactly are they showing there?'

   Jane stepped closer to the chart to check on things.

   'Well, it seems fairly clear to...'

   She got no further in her utterance as Gary pushed her backwards onto the double bed and at the same time, in one smooth action, dropped to the floor where his busy hands snapped the two shackles, which had lain hidden just under the bed, closed around his grandmother's ankles. It all happened so quickly that Jane had no time whatsoever to react or even to form any thoughts in response. She could only yelp loudly in her surprise. Gary jerked on the straps which held the two restraints and fastened them further apart, such that Jane's legs were jerked an arm's width from each other.

   Now Jane began a shout which threatened to be heard from outside, even though Gary had made good and sure that all upstairs windows were firmly closed. She was in the process of elbowing herself into a sitting position when Gary, having rushed to the far side of the bed, seized hold of her by the shoulders and flung her back flat against the duvet, forcing a ball gag which he had secreted in his pocket over her head and into her mouth.

   Hauling one of his grandmother's arms towards one of the stockings which he had already tied to the bed frame, he quickly tied this around her wrist. It was the work only of a few moments to repeat the process with the other arm. He now walked back in more leisurely fashion, around the struggling woman, to the foot of the bed where he stood between her restrained legs and surveyed his captive. Jane's gag-muted cries fell on deaf ears. The bed shook slightly as, spreadeagled, her four widely-splayed limbs were jerked in futility up and down.

   'Ok, Gran. I'm not going to hurt you in any way... honestly. I've been planning this for a little while now... I just want to enjoy you... that's all. Please believe me...'

   His voice trailed off as he turned and searched for something he had left on the nearby chest of drawers. Jane's eyes grew big and her struggles and cries resumed when she saw the boy turn back towards her... with a knife in his hand.

   'No, Gran, no. This is not for hurting you. I'm not like that.' Gary put as much sincerity into his voice as he could muster. He was telling the truth and genuinely wanted her to have faith in what he was saying.

   'This is only for making things easier for me. Watch carefully.'

   With an abrupt movement, he leaned forward and pushed his grandmother's summer dress up along her thighs and, with a little more difficulty, over her hips to rest around her waist. The ultra-sharp knife he inserted under the top of her tights and pulled downwards. These parted immediately and silently in a nice, straight line down to her crotch, unfolding like the wings of a butterfly. The same manoeuvre was applied swiftly to Jane's demurely grey panties and this, the two "halves" being hastily folded by Gary in turn to left and right, displayed her Mound of Venus to him, complete with its befurred cap. As if in response, Jane twisted this way and that in her shackles, moaning her shame and embarrassment obscurely through the gag.

   Gary then reached further up and, again, inserted the knife under the lip of the dress's V neck. Once more, Jane began her futile struggling against the bonds which held her.

   'Careful, Gran... I don't want any accidents... you've seen how sharp this is.'

   He pulled the knife towards himself and watched it part the dress effortlessly, only occasionally stuttering as its progress was obstructed by a seam. The last threads at the bottom gave way without protest and, again, Gary drew the two sides away to left and right. His grandmother was now almost fully exposed to him and he noticed with interest the various minor bruises and blemishes that a life of sixty plus years accumulates. One matter remained as a task.

   'The last lap now, Gran. Then the knife will be gone forever, I promise, okay..? I'm sorry if it frightened you, honestly.'

   A muffled groan came from behind the gag... Gary did not bother trying to decipher it.
   Reaching forward again over Jane's chest with the knife, he lifted her bra slightly so as to insert it underneath the centre-section and applied upward pressure. Again, the sheer sharpness of the blade tolerated little resistance and the bra's two cups sprang apart to reveal Jane's breasts... full but not excessively so. The sudden cold over the length of her body was forcing her pink-brown nipples into a stiff uprightness.

   Jane's mind was in turmoil. All of this had happened so quickly - in just a few short minutes. She was still adjusting to the shock of events and the reality of her situation. The overwhelming panic was slowly subsiding but replacing it was a sense of her vulnerability... she had been stripped and presented like a twopenny whore... and her total helplessness at the hands of her own grandson - now in the process of slowly stripping himself before her - was the dominant thought in her mind. He was the master of the situation. She could but accept her fate.

   The overarching thought in Gary's mind, as he removed his underpants finally, was that he wanted to enjoy this. He had schemed and planned for so long. This was going to be his first time, it was this woman he wanted... and he wanted to relish every last moment. Above all... above all... not to rush things..

   'All right, Gran... I'm going to enjoy myself now. I hope you like it, too.'

   His words emerged in a breathless, stuttered manner. Despite all his planning and resolve, the excitement of the moment was affecting him at all levels - he would have had to be superhuman for it not to be so. His erection, faltering before, was now throbbing and rigid. His heart was pounding. A male in rut.

   Jane only moaned weakly in response.

   Gary moved to collect one of the bed's pillows. He lifted Jane's head up gently and positioned it underneath to support her.

   He came back to his position between her legs at the end of the bed and sank to his knees. With her head raised, Jane could see him taking hold of her naked thighs with his hands and forcing them still wider apart. Gary now had exposed to him Jane's pink outer labia and the beginnings of her dark hole and, again slowly, he moved his head towards his objective.

   Jane's breathing grew rapidly faster to a hammering level as, without even realising it, she tensed herself for his touching of her most private part.

   Throughout all of their married life together, Phil had never done this. They were both conservative individuals who, in a vague and never-stated way, considered anything other than conventional penetration as dirty and weird. This is not to say that Jane had never thought about it... or indeed actually wanted Phil to do it... It was just that he had never offered and Jane had felt too embarrassed to raise the subject.

   And thus, just as it was Gary's first contact with female genitalia, so it was now that Jane experienced for the first time in her sixty-four years the feel of a male's mouth on her pink flower. Gary sucked and nibbled, he licked and burrowed. He went to work in a determined, no-nonsense way, varying where he went and what he did. As he was about his business, he felt Jane's body contorting in its reaction. For Jane, this novelty bore little resemblance to the increasingly rare visitations of her own fingers - perhaps once or twice per week - to the same area. It felt very different - different tools were in use - and when another person is in charge each touch, each contact of skin on skin, is unexpected.

   Gary's hands gradually moved upwards and inwards toward Jane's flower, finally reaching and then, with his thumbs, prising apart those outer petals completely to reveal the inner mystery of her dark shaft. He now forced his tongue, or as much of it as he could achieve, into that darkness and moved it in and out, slowly at first but using his head to accelerate in a bobbing motion. He could not help but smell and taste Jane's sweetness, a revelation to him. Finally, still holding those outer lips widely apart, he began a series of long, slow, upward licks which, starting deep in her crevice, moved outside of it, and then up and robustly over the small nub it found at the highest pint of her labia. After only a few of these movements his tongue could feel the nub growing larger - accompanied by a bucking of his grandmother's pelvis which threatened to dislodge him in his efforts. His determination brooking of no interruption though, he held her down firmly and continued.

   Jane was being carried over an edge. From being in a state of utter fright, her body had now taken over from her mind. She could see her grandson's young face bobbing between her thighs, totally intent on his goal. As much as the physical feelings his efforts were generating in her groin, it was the look of fierce determination on that face which was now driving her to that edge. She was a female - with a body - suddenly, after many years of being merely a lady with a garden. And, never mind the 'grandson', he was a male who wanted her and who was focussed solely on having her, nothing else.

   A minor wail issued from behind the gag and drool ran down Jane's face on either side of it, her body now convulsing as that precipice was finally reached with one more rasping lick and she fell into her enforced climax.

   Gary took in the fact of Jane's orgasm with relish and added it into his memory of events - he was determined to commit all of this to a mental record which he was going to play and replay over in his mind in future. That shuddering. That look on her face. Those closed eyes. Her open mouth. Her head sagging back. Her toes splaying wide and then curling.

   'So now I'm going to fuck you,' he muttered aloud and almost to himself, 'and I'm going to use you just as I want. Enjoy it or not, I don't care. I've put you like this so I can get my own satisfaction.'
   He stood up between Jane's thighs and slowly lowered himself on top of her.

   The stress on his word "own" had sent Jane to a new place in her mind which cemented in situ this new reality for her. Since Phil's death she had been forced to assume total responsibility for herself and the household. Phil had been a good provider and attentive to her needs - perhaps overly so - and it had been hard for her to take over the reins completely and fend for herself. Even so, eventually she had managed to become a "singleton" again and gradually become accustomed to doing everything that was necessary alone and unaided. Only infrequently had she made any call on Steven and Isobel's help in things, a matter about which she harboured a secret pride. Indeed, she had gone out of her way to help them out... particularly with childminding Gary when he was younger.

   Now, and very suddenly, she found herself in a situation where all control was taken away from her. Someone else was calling the shots. Gary was the one in command and matters were very far from being something she could influence. She was both physically and mentally hugely helpless. Her mind, at some deeper level, was tasting this newly re-introduced 'flavour'. Along with the inevitable shock, she found in it a kind of... strange... relief...

   She felt his weight come to rest on her, his chest pushing down on her breasts. Her nipples felt that weight moving against them - something not experienced these many years past. She felt his paired legs forcing her thighs further apart and then the stiffness of his penis forcing itself up against her slit. My God, was it really running like this with her juices after that orgasm? Was it really slowly opening up... so brazenly... for him..? Was that... was that really her clitoris she could sense swollen large..?

   Gary's hips made a massive forward thrust and he felt every inch of his penetration of her... the way his entry forced and divided her tunnel for him. The head of his penis now came ramming up against her cervix, forcing a gasp from her... she too had felt all of his entry and all of his presence inside her. For a long moment Gary looked down at the female below him - for the consideration of Jane as his grandmother had now receded, to be replaced by one shared by all hunters as they close in on the prey - delight in the success of the hunt. Jane's gag had now loosened and slipped out to one side, aided by copious drool... but there were no cries for help, no pleas to stop. There was only a wide open mouth accompanied by the closing, once again, of her eyes after straining open so very wide in response to that thrust.

   These signs drove Gary on. He withdrew almost fully and then moved up inside Jane again, this time more slowly. His hips repeated the motion. And again. And again. Quite intentionally - despite his reference to his 'own satisfaction', he had read up extensively on what was supposed to please women - he set up this slow but powerful thrusting. Bending lower, he sucked at her nipple. Experimentally, he reached forward to Jane's left wrist and freed it from the restraining stocking and its slip knot, still maintaining his movement. This would be a defining moment.

   Jane sensed the liberation but there was very little by way of hesitation in her own movements... her hand reached around behind Gary's shoulder to rest lightly on the back of his neck, fondling and caressing it, her hips at the same time beginning a to-and-fro rhythm of their own to match his. Encouraged, he reached to free her other hand and was gratified to find it joining the first in embracing him. Jane likewise had lost - or suppressed - the idea of Gary being her grandson. This was a strong male - her lover - who was demanding and taking what he needed from her. And she similarly was not going to deny herself all the satisfaction she could gain from the encounter. This was not a conscious 'decision' on her part but a reaction, triggered by the circumstances in which she now found herself - triggered at both the psychological and physical levels.

   She had resisted her own impulses for as long as she could but now, as Gary's determined thrusting continued unabated, she finally gave herself over to the sweetness of the tingle which had awakened in her from a penetration not savoured for many a long year. The tingle grew... and grew... until it became, in an instant, an irresistible force.

   She orgasmed again... massively... and before he did.

   Jane's accompanying, renewed vocal howl and perhaps, more importantly, the repeated clenching which her vulva supplied in its spasms to his member, completely overwhelmed any remaining focus the boy had on maintaining his rhythm... or even to any clear-headed thought at all. Jane's obvious surrender to his forcing of her - and now her clear enjoyment of it - sent Gary over his cliff edge and into a jerking gushing as his young seed flooded out and into his grandmother's womb... the womb which had brought his own mother into the world... in hot, heavy, sticky streams. He grunted his release into Jane's ear in time with his final, hammer-like, almost brutal thrusts...

   ...before collapsing, a spent force and in complete exhaustion, his body on top of hers... his sweat mingling with hers.
   Silence gradually established itself.

   They lay there, joined at the hips, their breathing slowly returning to normal.
   After a while, Gary rolled off his grandmother and they lay together in that silence for a while, side by side. Jane sighed and turned over towards him, her sheared dress and underwear lying all about her, and snaked one arm under his head.

   She pulled him towards her and canted her head up so that her lips could meet his... and they were soon in the throes of a deep French kiss. She reached down with the other hand to fetch his hand up and clamp it over her breast. Finally, she reached down further to cup his testicles gently.
   As the two lovers kissed, in Gary's mind there was a mixture of relief and triumph that his planning had paid off... that all his desires and scheming regarding his grandmother - ever since that day when he had caught a glimpse of her nakedness through a shower room door carelessly left ajar - had come to fruition...

...and that he was a virgin no longer.

   In Jane's mind were several realisations... that Gary had wanted her so very much... as a man wants a woman... that he must have spent many hours in the planning of this... and that she had consequently been the instrument of his deflowering... just as she, not Phil, was now the instrument of bringing out the best in the home garden, so she had brought her grandson to maturity, away from the sight and knowledge of his parents.

   ... and that here she was now... finally... finally... no longer in mourning.
   ... and in both minds, even allowing for the absence of clarity about what the future might hold... was the certainty that the two of them would be spending the rest of the weekend here... with framed photos of his parents and her deceased husband all around staring at them...
   ... as man and wife.