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“Oh my God! Julie! I’m not kidding, Ben felt big. I mean, animal big. Like a horse. He scares me.”Katie smiled. Lydia starting to giggle and progressing to laugh aloud.“Let me go close the door. More to tell.”Katie quickly moved out of sight. She was disappointed as she heard the door close. She felt her own panties moisten as she stood against the wall in her bedroom.It’s been about ten years since her husband Dave was confined to a wheelchair after a terrible motorcycle accident. It was not his fault. They were more than compensated through insurance and awarded punitive damages. The Millards didn’t have to work for a living.She was twenty-two when Lydia was born. Being the only daughter, Lydia stayed home to help her parents. She was assured of independence and total privacy. Now at forty-one, Katie needed some loving too. Dave accepted his wife’s needs. He mastered the cunnilingus technique on her. She appreciated it. She wanted more.Katie was now curious about Lydia and Ben. She. It was not long before Helen, hiding her disappointment, retreated to the kitchen where the sight of a feather-duster hanging on a hook gave her inspiration. Back in the lounge, she dusted at waist level, she dusted low, including the sofa Frank was sitting on - he obligingly moved for her but did not look up - then she dusted high, reaching up to the curtain rail, the tops of the door frames causing the hem of her nighty to ride up almost to her hips. She wished now that she had had the courage to go 'sans culotte'. It was the fruit that saved the day. Always a health eater, Helen kept a cut glass bowl on the side-board. Usually this contained apples, pears or bananas but this week the supermarket were doing a special on clementines so when she accidentally knocked the bowl over the little round oranges skittered across the floor. The sight of her bending down, teetering on her 'spikes' to retrieve them was more riveting even than Manchester United verses Liverpool. 'What are.
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