Chapter 7

She was right about the weather, I'd sat at the rickety old table in the garden, reading the Sunday papers and pretending not to look at her as she dug up what potatoes Mr Patel wanted as well as a few for our own Sunday lunch.

It was quite a mixture that she wore for the self imposed task, the tee shirt and skirt from earlier had been matched with my old Wellington boots, complete with turned down tops, an incongruous mix at the best of times, but she still hadn't restored the skirt to it's normal length and apart from the boots being at least three sizes too large, she was still panty - less and I couldn't really generate much interest in the usual sensational "Soap star had an affair with queen mum's second cousin" garbage in the newspaper!

She giggled as I sighed and put the paper down,

"Mum for God's sake, how am I supposed to concentrate on catching up with the news when you keep flashing your pussy at me?"

"You're not" she laughed, "You're supposed to be looking at me and thinking of all the sexy things you can do to me over the next two weeks!"

She had both feet on the spade as she spoke, bouncing up and down trying to force it deeper underneath a particularly bountiful potato plant.

"If you don't stop jiggling your boobs like that, I'll start right now" I growled and reached for her.

At that second, a clap of thunder rent the Sunday morning tranquillity and the heavens opened, it wasn't rain in the usual sense, it was more like a solid sheet of water and in an instance we were soaked to the skin!

Mum squealed and slipped off the narrow blade of the spade, both feet went from under her and she fell into the quagmire that was the potato patch,

I reached for her and promptly slipped too, landing on my back in the mud,

"Oh for fu- - -," then I realised she was laughing, lying there her hair plastered to her head, tee shirt soaked through displaying the dark circles of her nipples, skirt up round her waist and legs wide open.

"Tommy no!" she squealed as I pulled her on top of me and fumbled in my shorts

"You're bloody mad, you fool"

Then she sank down onto my rigid cock and fell forwards as the rain ran like a river over her back, I felt the mud oozing into the legs of my shorts as I heaved myself up into another quagmire that was her cunt.

"You're crazy" but the already familiar excitement belied her protests, "Absolutely, beautifully fucking crazy!"

Gripping my shoulders, she rolled us over and laughed madly as she felt the thick cloying mud under her quivering bottom. I slipped my hands under her, into the mud and grabbed two handfuls before cupping her cheeks and smearing it all over her as she clung to me, matching her thrusts to mine.

"I'm cumming Tommy" she hissed and arched her back up out of the mud,

"Fuck me you bastard" she shouted and as another clap of thunder crashed above us, she orgasmed, sobbing and laughing, clawing at the earth, grabbing hands full of slime and smearing it over my back, even in my hair!

She was still moving slowly and sensuously as I exploded too and kissed her mud splashed face, even as I ejaculated inside her, she told me she loved me and held me tightly as the deluge continued around us!

Mr Patel's face was a picture when I delivered his vegetables, we gathered them up from around where we'd made love, still laughing at the craziness of what we'd done, but shivering now as the rain began to chill us and I just opened the shop door and laid the box inside the door

"I fell" I grinned sheepishly as he stared at the mud splattered apparition before him, "See you tomorrow" and I was gone!

The first bath took the mud off us and the second one cleansed us completely, but by the time we'd finished, I decided it was too late to start cooking the dinner so I told mum to get dolled up and we'd go down to the pub again for a pub lunch.

The knock at the door sounded official, but when I opened the door I saw an old man standing there, looking quite distressed and breathing heavily,

"Can I help you?" I enquired and waited patiently while he caught his breath.

"You could let me sit down for a moment, the stairs you know"

Still with no idea as to his identity, I took his arm and led him to a chair, he nodded gratefully and after a few seconds said in a surprisingly strong voice,

"Matthews, Arnold Matthews" and offered a hand.

"Well Mr Matthews" I said, "I know now who you are, but I'd like to know what you are"

"Arnold!"

Mum came in from the bedroom, looking absolutely gorgeous in a thin summer dress and took his hands in hers, he tried to rise but she motioned him to stay there,

"What brings you here on a Sunday afternoon Arnold?"

Turning to me, she told me he was a prison visitor, one of those people who spend time with prisoners who have no visitors, or are disallowed visits from friends and relatives as a punishment.

I nodded to him, relieved at least to discover he wasn't some sort of parole officer or something.

"Arnold was very kind to me in there Tommy" she still held his hands and kept looking at him fondly,

"Well as you know Polly, I live just down the road from here, alone since my wife passed away and I've always had a lady to come in every day to clean and do my washing and generally help with whatever I can't manage"

He paused for breath again before continuing,