Sunday Love Songs - Cover

Sunday Love Songs

Copyright© 2015 by Always Raining

Chapter 8

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 8 - Ten years after leaving school, Kevin Conners hears his name on a Radio Programme. A girl he was intimate with then, wants to get in touch. However, after they meet and he expresses interest, she proves elusive. Can he catch up with her? Will he want to? Though written in the first person, this is purely fictitious. The Radio Programme is still broadcast at the time of writing.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   First   Slow  

Nicola and I walked to Nicola's car, arms round each other. She kept hugging me to her.

"Come to ours," I said as I opened her door for her. "Tomorrow, Christmas afternoon?"

She nodded.

"What are your plans?" she asked.

"Staying till Saturday and then driving back. You want to come back then as well?"

"Yes please," and she smiled that smile, reached up and kissed me. I kissed her back. It was gentle and affectionate. "Will you have some room in your car for my stuff? It won't all fit in mine."

"No problem," I said and we kissed again.

"See?" she said. "Again, it's as if we've never been apart all this time."

"It's good," I said. "See you tomorrow."

I did see her. I picked her up from her house. She was looking out for me and was by the car before I could get out.

It was the first time she had been in our house, and she was welcomed royally. The other two males in the family could not take their eyes off her.

Later, we walked out to my car where Lorraine, who was the designated driver at her own insistence, was already sitting ready to drive her home.

Nicola smiled and sighed with satisfaction, "Kevin, I had a great time. I really felt at home; everyone was so good to me. I can see now why you are the way you are."

I cannot remember how I replied, but it made me think. After the prolonged and passionate kiss broken only by Lorraine's hoot on the horn, she was gone.

I realised, perhaps for the first time, how much I owed to my Father and Mother. It was their characters, their comfortable love for each other, and their gentle control of us as we grew that contributed in no small measure to what we are today. Each of the three of us is different and has been allowed to grow into what we are. Once Lorraine returned I said as much to them, which embarrassed the hell out of them.

Lorraine and Patrick agreed. Dad said nothing, but Mum spoke for both, saying she thought that was the best Christmas present she had ever received, and wondered what brought it on. My father nodded.

I told them it was something Nicola said, whereupon my father said, "You want to hold on to that one, she's perfect for you and she obviously brings out the best in you!"

"And she's bloody stunning!" added Michael, and Marie nodded her agreement with a smile and a sideways look at her boyfriend.

More to think about.

Next day, Boxing Day, it was a custom to go as a group to a film. Nicola came along, as did an ex-boyfriend of Lorraine whom she resurrected for the occasion. Mother came but father stayed at home as he always did. He was never one for the pictures.

"I suppose you're wondering why I've not invited you home," Nicola said as I drove her home after a cold supper at our house after the film.

"After your mother's cool reply and lie to me I assumed I would not be welcome."

"I don't think Dad cares much who I go out with, it's Mum who's the snob."

"Have you told them about our plans?"

"Not yet," she said. "The later the better. I'll tell them tomorrow. Then you'll meet them on Saturday unless they go out to avoid you." She laughed at the very idea.

They went out to avoid me. But I anticipate.

On Thursday Nicola and I drove into the Cheviots and had lunch in a pub near Hadrian's Wall. Then she spent the evening with us. She stayed at her home all day on Friday, packing, but arrived at our place that evening, livid with anger. She ranted. None of us could get a word in.

The gist of it was that she had finished with her parents, or that they had finished with her if she went back with me. She mimicked her mother.

"'You're engaged to Barry. Now there's a nice boy; we know his parents, they're our sort of people.' Then came the threats. You were only some sort of filing clerk, you were after my money. If I went with you they would cut me off. They would change their wills and cut me out. I was exchanging a life I knew for poverty and some poky little house or flat in a squalid part of Manchester."

"You didn't tell them?"

She laughed, "You mean about your squalid little house? Not likely. They're narrow minded bigots. Snobs! Anyone would think that having money made them better than anyone else. I told them poverty with you was better than wealth with them, and I mentioned mother's lie to you. You know she wasn't embarrassed or guilty? She did it for me, she said!"

Nicola continued in like vein. While she was by turns angry, upset and scornful, I thought it showed she really loved them, and having to decide between me and them hurt her a great deal. I kept my counsel for the time being. We would talk about it in good time.

Mother said nothing, though I knew she was itching to. She would want Nicola to make another attempt to keep in contact with her parents. Practical as always she offered a bed for the night, which Nicola accepted. She slept with Lorraine in Lorraine's double bed.

At breakfast which was quite lavish, since my mother would not allow me to travel on anything less than a full stomach, Nicola was still belligerent.

"When we pick up my stuff, I want you to meet my parents. I want them to see us leaving together."

"OK," I said, though I was not looking froward to the experience. Of course it did not happen.

We filled both cars to the gunwales and moved off in convoy from her empty house.


I was relieved as we unloaded the cars to see that she seemed completely relaxed, as if she'd always lived there with me. Only now and again did a little uncertainty show, as when I offered her the same guest bedroom she had before. She looked puzzled, then immediately laughed out loud.

"Kevin, your bed is the only one for me. Now I've got my foot in your door (figuratively speaking), the rest of me goes into your bed! I'm not letting you get away. I'm here for good!"

That's when she stopped, looked worried that she'd overstepped the mark.

"I'm so glad you said that," I said, "I've wanted you in my bed since that first time, and I'm delighted you're here for good."

The relief on her face!

We left all the baggage in the second bedroom, for, back to the mundane, we had to shop for food or starve. It was good to do something so ordinary, learning how each of us went about the task in a supermarket.

That first night, after the long drive, getting her stuff unloaded and doing a significantly large grocery shop, we climbed the stairs to bed.

She seemed uncertain as to what do do, until I shrugged off my clothes and stood nakedly before her, my prick hanging down. She looked surprised at my brazen display, then a smile spread over her face as she appraised my body, and she began to strip out of her clothes without any affectation. Her plain white bra was unclasped, and fell forward showing her breasts were as firm as ever, though fuller and without any sag, and then her plain white knickers came down, and she in turn stood naked before me. She grinned as her disrobing activated my cock, but she looked so tired.

"You're tired," I said. "Let's sleep tonight, eh?"

She looked relieved, and she shot me a look of gratitude.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Good idea."

She had taken the right hand side of the bed, so I took the left, and we fell into bed together, stroked over each other's bodies, going all around and between and below, before kissing deeply and snuggling down, and we soon fell asleep. I thought her exhaustion was partly due to her problems with her parents.

The following morning we sat in bed together and drank the tea I had made, listening to the radio.

I had woken her quite late, after ten, with a gentle kiss, and she had pulled me back into bed and wrapped herself round me, turning her face up for another kiss. It was comfortable and peaceful. Then we sat up for our tea. She wanted 'Love Songs' on the radio, and we managed to get the last half hour or so.

Once the tea and the programme had finished, we sank back into the bed and resumed our entwined cuddle. My hand strayed over her stomach and down her thighs and up again. Hers traced my chest and stomach but avoided my cock which was limp so far. Then I felt her crease, bald until her landing strip. Her hand ran over my perineum, and over my balls to stroke my cock with an open hand. I started to rise to the occasion and pushed a finger into her slit to find her clitoris.

Then I had a thought and stopped.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"I hate to bring this up again after ten years," I said apologetically, "but we need to talk about safety."

She froze. We were back to the night of the prom. She sat up and glowered at me.

"Are you accusing–"

"Stop right there," I said sharply. "No one's accusing anyone. We just need to have 'the talk'. That's all. I'll start. I have had sex with Beth and Julie, and with Sarah in London after you ran. We all used condoms every time. You need to know that from me after your brush with an STD. You know I've been with other women."

Silence. She looked surprised at my mention of Sarah, and then annoyed. I could not tell whether it was that I had had it away with Sarah, or that I was talking condoms again. Then her features relaxed and she sighed.

"Yes, you're right," she said reluctantly. "Don't get upset. I've had sex with Barry. No one else since Derek. I insisted on condoms every time with Barry, and in fact we only had full penetrative sex about three times as Christmas got nearer. We only had sex after we got engaged the week before last. I'm sorry Kevin, but I thought I'd lost you, and as you'd expect, we celebrated our engagement in bed."

She searched my face with a worried frown looking for a reaction, but I just smiled. It simply wasn't an issue for me. She had slept with Barry years ago, so what if she'd done it again? I'd not exactly been idle, had I?

She looked relieved.

The moment had gone for making love though, so we got out of bed and went down to make breakfast. Neither of us felt hungry, so we contented ourselves with a couple of English muffins each, toasted, with butter or cream cheese. Halfway through the meal Nicola looked up at me.

"Kevin I trust you. We don't need condoms do we?"

"I trust you too, sweetheart, no we don't. We don't want anything to come between us from now on."

She smiled, relief all over her face.

"It's a lovely sunny day, shall we go for a walk?" she asked. I nodded.

"When I came to see you last May, we went to Alderley Edge, I think it was," she said. "I'd like to go there again; see it in winter."

So we did. We wrapped up warmly and walked briskly. The woods looked completely different shorn of their leaves, and the woodland was brighter for their nakedness, though very damp.

Then we drove to my favourite pub and had lunch. It was good for us; we chatted, touched and held hands. By the time we were turning into my drive, it was growing dark, I was feeling totally at ease, and it seemed she was too, as if we had been together for months. I know I was feeling turned on by her proximity though she made no move on me. She was however breathing hard. Two days together and no sex!

As we entered the house, Nicola made for the stairs.

"I think I'll have a shower," she said, looking over her shoulder at me. That bottom of hers encased in jeans was enticing, though the garment wasn't quite as tight as I remembered.

"Coming?" she asked over her shoulder with a little wiggle and an inviting smile.

I did not need a second invitation. By the time I reached the bedroom, Nicola was shimmying out of her high-leg briefs and unclasping her bra, throwing both on the dressing table chair.

"Come on!' she urged. "What's keeping you?"

I shed my clothes in one fluid movement, having loosened jeans and tee shirt on the way up the stairs. She ran before me into the large bathroom and made for the toilet, sitting and letting her piss run loud and free. I stood before her, my cock rising at the sight and sounds.

"You?" she asked, wiping herself and standing in one movement.

"Too hard," I said, my cock now at full mast, "never get the piss in the bowl."

"Pee in the shower!" she giggled, preceding me into the wet area, and turning on water. She turned as I followed her in, and stood in front of me.

"Go on," she said. "Pee!"

"You'll get wet."

She was under the water spray. "I am already. Go ahead."

"On you?"

"Yeah. So?"

My cock was pointing up at a forty five degree angle, and when I let rip, a stream of urine bounced on the underside of her tits and ran down her front. She gasped and giggled, playing with the stream as it hit her.

"It's as warm as the shower!" she laughed.

I wondered where she got the idea of water sports, but she forestalled me.

"I've never done this before you know," she said still bathing in the stream twisting from side to side to get a good coating, "it just seems a loving thing to do. It says I love everything about you, even your piss."

I had an unworthy thought about shit, but banished it immediately. We would never go down that road!

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