Chapter 9: Victorian Home

Diary:

Havelock House, Sunday, Septermber 2, 1973 Dear Diary,

This old house has one more tale to tell. And I'm afraid I may have some explaining to do to my son. We'll see. The house itself really is a wonderful specimen, but there is no way I could have anticipated just how complete the renovation could be. It includes a fairly complete exploration of some of the sexual mores of the Victorian Age, that were brought into bright and intense focus for me for the first time. Extraordinary evening, I must admit.

C and Jenn went off by themselves to some young people's activities in town and had a good time, I think. There could be some repercussions to be faced there, but we will see. As someone said, the problems with children get bigger as they get older.

Our Sunday is tranquil and everyone seems to have genuinely enjoyed our weekend and we are heading back to school and to home, no worse for wear.

Ellen

Present: I recall the weeks after our European trip as very pleasant. We talked a lot about all the exciting things we did and simply enjoyed reminiscing.

One night after practice, I saw Jennifer pulling out of the parking lot and she offered me a ride home.

"Cheerleader practice! Rah! Rah!" she joked.

I had not seen her long enough to talk to her since we parted on the mountain at Grindelwald in Switzerland. We had a lot of fun skiing and her Dad and my Mom had hit it off fairly well too.

"Can I come in and say hi to your Mom?" she asked.

"Sure, come on. And thanks for the ride!"

Mom and Sally had their heads together, sitting in the window seat in the kitchen. That seemed to happen frequently at that time. Sally was there a lot when I got home. I always had the feeling they had been in deep conversation about something that I wasn't in on! It didn't bother me; it was just obvious that they had become friends. Mom never, ever, said anything and she never, ever, pushed Sally and me together. But they were thick buddies.

"Hi! Look who I brought home!" I called out.

"Ohhh, Jennifer! How nice to see you again. And no broken legs, I see!" My mother hugged her and they chatted about the last time we were together.

"Sally, we ran into Jennifer and her father on the mountain in Switzerland! He's a terrific skier! Isn't he, Jenn?"

Sally was cordial but preoccupied, I thought afterwards. The girls all sat down and had a glass of lemonade and left me out of it. So I went up and changed clothes and came back downstairs to find Jennifer leaving.

"Thanks for the ride, Jenn!" I called.

Sally was a little cool, but said nothing. She was soon on her way home too, and Mom went back to fixing dinner without a word about Sally.

"So, you and Jennifer?" she said quizzically.

"Nope. Just ran into her and she offered a ride."

"I had a call from her Dad ... from Alan, the other day. I've been trying to decide if I should accept an invitation. You are invited too. He has a big sort of hunting lodge in upstate New York. Wants us to come for a weekend. I don't know. What would you think. Probably hunting or hiking if you like? He apparently bought a big Victorian House that he thinks is wonderful."

"Whatever you want, Mom. Really. When would it be?"

We left on Friday Night, I remember. It was a holiday weekend -- yes, it would have been Labor Day weekend. We picked Jennifer up at her college and headed for Alan's fancy house in the Adirondacks. I don't know what his business was, but he certainly seemed to have a lot of money to throw around, including owning this huge Victorian house set on a hill overlooking a lake.

Mom got in the back and let me drive with Jennifer craning around in her seat to talk to Mom most of the time. She was wearing a short skirt and each time she turned I had a glimpse of pink panties between her legs. The long conversations provided a lot of panty time taking my eyes from the road and resting on her soft-looking pubic mound, decorated with lace that extended down around the leg elastic of her panties. She didn't seem to mind showing it to me, either. I know she caught me looking down there and yet she didn't close her legs. Sometimes she would very late, very slowly push the skirt down like closing the curtain on a stage show. But the next time she turned, it would be just as open, just as attractive, just as pretty, just as hot! My cock was straining against the leg of my jeans and I had to adjust it from time to time to keep it from being uncomfortable.

We stopped for gas and I was relieved to be able to walk away and go to the jon to give it a little rest. When I returned to the car, Jennifer had switched to the back seat and Mom to the front.

"We decided to switch for a little variety." Jennifer said.

We drove off and they continued their animated conversation, only now it was my Mom's legs that were distracting me. Her skirt was a little longer than Jennifer's mini-skirt, but the effect was similar. I could not see so far up her skirt, but that was just as distracting. Her skirt put her pussy in shadow most of the time, but I was looking at a length of nylon covered thigh, golden and gleaming. Sometimes she would scratch her thigh with her long fingernails and that musical nylon stocking 'scritching' would make me shudder in pleasure. Some of the time, when she turned to make a point, I would see a flash of white panties over the garter belt for a moment or two, secret, plump, feminine, and my mind would conjure up the scent I remembered so well between her thighs: perfume, hyped by wondrous sex scent from her pussy. It was overwhelming, I'm surprised I could keep it on the road. But it was a familiar sight now and I had become a little more calm about seeing it, thank goodness.

But then I noticed that Jennifer would lean forward at those moments when Mom turned toward me. After it happened several times, I realized that she wasn't leaning forward so much to hear, but also to see if my mother was giving me a show under her skirt as she had been doing. When I realized this, rather belatedly, I began trying to avoid looking; it was a difficult assignment. Somehow, I didn't want to share with Jennifer my secret desire to look up Mom's skirt. But she was just too savvy; unbelievably aware of what was going around her that was sexual or sensual. She seemed every bit as preoccupied with sex as I was. It was a revelation. I assumed that girls didn't really get that interested or at least never admitted it. Jennifer was an education all in itself.

We arrived at this huge mansion with lots of curlicues all over the front. The windows were trimmed in dark green against the pale yellow walls. Over each window a finial and next to each window a hinged shutter that looked like it really worked. I could almost hear the shutters banging in the high wind of a stormy night! On the flat part of the slate roof, there was what Mom called a "Widow's Walk" high on the highest peak. Supposedly, this was where the widow would go to watch out to sea for her sea captain husband to return from the deep. It was a story that would give you the willies and it looked spooky up there.

Arriving at a huge front door, Jennifer lifted a cast iron knocker and banged out an announcement that company had arrived. Alan showed up, honest to god, with one of those yellow paisley ascot ties at the throat of a soft yellow shirt, and greeted us warmly. We trudged up the stairs, he and I with the luggage, and Jennifer and Mom following along, Jenn telling her about the house as we went. I was down the hall and Jennifer's room was between mine and Mom's.

The weekend was all planned ahead and included horseback riding, a first for me. I managed to stay on the damned horse and Mom showed quickly that she hadn't forgotten her years-ago experience and she and Alan soon looked born to the saddle and frisked off into the distance. I begged off, and Jennifer and I got off the horses and sat on the grass to wait for them to return.

"You're dad seems to be a nice guy."

"Yeah ... yeah ... he's okay. Now that they live apart and the fights are not so big a deal."

"Oh. Rough, I guess."

"Yes. That's putting it mildly. But ... but ... we get along ... great, really. I love him and he's good to me. So it is all for the best that they divorced, I guess. I like your Mom. You seem to have a ... nice relationship. What happened to your dad?"

I told her the story. She was sympathetic. "Nice ... that you and she ... you know ... get along so well, eh?"

I stared off and simply replied, "Yep." She looked at me carefully, and for several seconds.

"Does it bother you?"

"What? That my dad is ... romancing her? That he wants to do her?"

My heart bounced into my throat a moment.

"Uh ... I don't know how to answer that. My Mom is ... special to me, yes, but she of course has her own ... uh ... life to lead. I want her to be ... happy."

"Complicated, though." It was a question.

"A little ... I guess."

"Me too, a little. He is always after someone. Sometimes I feel ... a little jealous, I guess. Takes him away from giving me attention. Mostly it's okay, though. I understand, like you say."

I wasn't sure that I had actually said anything, so I nodded.

"He really likes her. She's beautiful!"

Did I feel a pang of jealousy? Perhaps. Was I a little scared that someone might take her away from me? Perhaps!

We drifted to other subjects but she had sewn the seeds of many questions in my mind.

We had dinner looking out the large windows over the lake as sun went down. A very pleasant place, good company. After dinner we took a tour of the old house through echoing halls with hardwood floors showing the long ago craftsmanship that ages so beautifully. We heard all the ghost stories connected with the history of the house and Alan was being an amusing host, touching my mother's arm when he made a point. That was, I realized, the telltale sign of his intentions to impress and win his way into her heart. I began to worry about someone winning their way in to her heart and then hurting her. It's a terrifying and complicated issue for a teenage son, I can testify.

"Are you going to show them the secret room, Daddy?"

"Oh, yes. Why not?" he said.

At the end of the hallway on the third floor, past what was once a fancy ballroom, there seemed to be nothing else. But when he touched a certain place on the wall, the concealed door popped ajar so that he could reach in and pull it open. He snapped on the light. Inside there was a large bedroom. A canopied bed, a four poster, sat in the middle of one wall. Comfortable chairs were arrayed around the room. On one wall, a large brick fireplace, reinforced with iron fittings. The dark brown beams of the high ceiling gave the room stature. A huge oil painting of a two nude women and a lone man dominated one end, softening the overall impact of the scene and added to its sensuality.

"This was the master's Master, Master bedroom, we think. The Victorian's were supposed to be so sexually repressed that it had to pop out somewhere, right? Well this is a secret place to let yourself go. I restored it because it is almost a museum of sexuality in itself. It had been allowed to deteriorate before I bought it. I mean everything was here but it hadn't been painted and the wallpaper was yellowed and peeling"

He opened a panel in the wall and inside there were a number of leather things, everything for a Victorian sex chamber; every imaginable tool for sex play, as he explained. There were harnesses, handcuffs, whips and other things that I didn't even recognize.

"Good Heavens!" my mother muttered in awe. "Spend much time in here, Alan?"

He opened another door and a closet full of Victorian age costumes were revealed. "If you would like to play dress-up, here are the period costumes!" he laughed. "Anyway, an amusing look into the past, don't you think?"

We all laughed and our tour being over, we went downstairs for a nightcap, hot chocolate for me.

We were up the next morning and off to a horse show at a neighboring farm. The auction was interesting and we had a good time together. Mom and Alan were clearly getting along well, she laughing happily at his jokes and stories, and he clinging to her anecdotes just as avidly.

The evening plan was for Jennifer and me to go off on a date in town, and the old folks would hang out at the big house on the lake. There would be fireworks in town and a dance or something like that, I can't recall exactly. Jennifer and I were off down the road in the early evening, leaving Alan and Mom getting ready for a nice dinner.

We went to a bar and they didn't check my ID. They knew Jennifer well, it seemed, and we ordered beer and sat listening to the music. She seemed to be jumpy. I had no idea why. I was surely no threat, two years age difference is a lot at that age and if anything, I was nervous being with her.

"Wonder what they are doing?" she giggled.

I didn't know what to say to that, but she clearly wanted to talk about it.

We had another beer.

"How much nerve do you have?" she asked.

"Some, I think." I still had no idea what she was thinking.

"Want to go back ... and see?" Jennifer asked. Now her state of agitation was noticeable by the flush of her cheeks and the flashing eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we could ... you know." she said mysteriously.

I shrugged.

"If you really have the nerve ... I mean really ... have the nerve."

Jennifer was challenging me. To what I didn't know for sure.

I pretended nonchalance.

"I don't know if you could do it." she said. "Probably not. Too young." she laughed and punched me on the arm.

"What do you mean?"

"We could go watch them ... and see what they do ... in secret, I mean. I know they want to do it together, don't you know that?"

"Well probably. I guess."

"Well, we could watch ... It would be ... fun."

"How?" I said after a few seconds of silence.

"If you want to, and have the nerve, there is a secret passage to that room ... Oh, what the hell, come on, I'll show you..."

We got back in the car and drove into the night to a tiny dirt lane that wound into the trees.

"Turn off the lights!" she said in a hush. I stopped the car and turned off the lights. We were plunged into a moonlit scene of trees, and a little ways away I could see the back of the house. We entered through a slanted cellar door and descended a few steps into a dank, musty basement. She turned on a light briefly, looked carefully around and then snapped it off.

Jennifer took my hand and led the way along one side to a door which squeaked a little as she moved it. Carefully she opened it and there was a set of stairs leading upward into the house.

She tugged my hand and we found the kitchen at the top of the stairs and a silent house. She pressed a panel and a door opened under her hand; she pulled me quickly inside then closed the door almost silently. Again she led the way up two flights of stairs along a dusty old-smelling corridor, just wide enough for us to walk single-file.

"Servant's passage! Take off your shoes." she whispered. Jennifer put her hand on my shoulder and reached to silently put her shoes neatly by the door. I did the same. She padded on down the hallway and we came to a door. Jennifer felt along the top of the door and came up with a key which unlocked the door.

"Shhhhh!"

We crept into a room, not very big, and I followed her along, feeling for furniture and bumping into a table as I went.

"Shhhh!" she cautioned again. I rubbed my toe which I had stubbed against the table. She pulled me along and onto some sort of couch; a small couch which smelled of great age, but was soft and comfortable.

"Now we wait!"

We sat in quiet whispers for sometime. Her thigh was against mine and we held hands. I really wanted to kiss her, but it took a little time to get up the nerve. Finally as she whispered some secret in my direction, I brushed her lips with mine. She stopped speaking. We stayed like that, lips barely brushing. I sucked in her exhaled breath, pleasant but beer laden. Our lips brushed again, my cock begin to expand. I pressed closer and felt her tongue between soft lips and a taste of strawberry lip gloss. We moved our lips against each other and I explored her tongue with mine, then pushed inside her mouth.

That left the question of what to do with my hands. I put one on her arm, then let my wrist touch the side of a very perky, firm breast. I felt a soft silk blouse and the firm support of a brassiere underneath. I moved my hand, pretending not to know my sneaky wrist was taking liberties with her lovely tit. We both pretended, I guess, because she didn't shake me off and I lingered there feeling her up with my sneaky-wrist trick. Ah, teenage youth is so funny, eh?

We leaned back against the soft plump back of the sofa. There was a strange half luminance in front of the couch, where some light was coming in. When my eyes got used to it, I could see a few gloomy details around me. But Jennifer was such a distraction, I was only aware that we were not in complete darkness, and continued happily exploring her body. I put my hand on her tit and squeezed very carefully, still expecting to be rebuked. But she didn't. We continued necking quietly, her lips open wide to let me explore her mouth and tongue while my fingers teased her nipple. I opened her blouse and slipped in for the full joy of fondling her bra cup, so full of Jennifer. When my hand slipped under the cup and found her bare breast and nipple, Jennifer emitted a long low sigh that made me very happy.

At last I felt her hand touch my thigh and then slip upward until it encountered the tip of my dick where it lay captive down the leg of my jeans. She moved her hand again until she had my shaft under her palm. I sighed deeply and sucked hard on her tongue as she fondled my cock.

"Where are we?" I gasped when we parted momentarily.

"Shhhh, we are in a secret room next to that Victorian sex chamber!" Jennifer giggled quietly.

"Why?"

"You'll see. You are so naive!" she kissed me with what passed for friendship. "They will come here. I just know it."

"But..."

"We'll be able to see them ... to watch them ... Can you handle it?" Again the taunting challenge.

"Oh." I said, unsure of myself, but terribly excited.

A light sprang on. A square glowed through drapes in the wall ahead of us looking like a stage with curtains drawn. Now the room was lighted from the "'stage"'.

I looked at Jennifer and she smiled a crooked smile, watching me carefully.

"Ohmigod!" I heard my mother exclaim from the other side of the wall. The sound was clear, but a little fainter than if we were in the same room.

Jennifer stood up, letting go of my cock. She quietly pulled the drapes aside. There behind the drapes was a one way glass, a mirror to the other room, a window to us.

I wanted to gasp in surprise, but held my breath, fearing discovery. Smiling at me. Jennifer stood there as if she were unveiling a statue,. Her blouse gaped open where I had unbuttoned it, revealing a black brassiere, nicely filled. She sat next to me again, curling her legs up onto the couch.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, her breath hot in my ear. She put her hand back on my cock and I sought her breast, fondling the soft padded nylon of the brassiere cup.

"I'm okay ... you?'

She nodded her head in an exaggerated gesture indicating that she was 'way cool'.

Obviously the original owner of the house enjoyed his sexual perversions. Here he had allowed guests to sleep or be entertained thinking they were in private while he watched from this mirrored room. It was hard to believe they could not see us, but it was soon clear that they did not. Mom stared at the mirror in front of us and straightened her dress, staring straight into our eyes without seeing us. She looked so beautiful to me, I can't tell you. I started having feelings of guilt being here; and in my heart of hearts I wanted her to leave this room and turn out the lights.

But, I couldn't resist some prurient interest, too. In the end I could not break away from Jennifer's taunting challenge if I was really up to seeing my mother seduced. I stayed quiet, for better or worse.

Mom bounced on the huge bed, testing it, and they continued talking, hand in hand. He poured wine and they toasted each other, continuing their dinner wine, I'm sure. He leaned close and kissed her, and my mother's hand touch his arm softly, giving him encouragement.

And then the show began. They opened the closet and Mom selected a Victorian costume. Alan donned a frock coat and a stovepipe hat. Mom went behind a screen, one of those folding things you see in the movies. Alan could not see her, but we could; leaning forward gave us a view of Mom beginning to undress. They continued talking, Alan finished dressing by the bed and Mom behind the screen. She tossed the dress up over the top of the screen and examined the costume. She stood there looking lovely in a white bra, and a half-slip through which I could see her panty line, stockings and high heels.

Jennifer squeezed my cock as Mom pushed the slip down and hung it over the screen and then unsnapped her bra. Jennifer aggressively rubbed my cock as we watched her breasts droop slightly as the bra cups slipped away from her pretty tits. Jennifer's eyes were as wide-open as mine, staring at her.

"She IS beautiful." she whispered, slipping her tongue in my ear and squeezing the end of my cock through my pants.

"I know."

"Oh oh!" she giggled as if I had let out a secret.

My face flushed and I stammered, 'Well ... you know!"

"Yes, I know," she giggled.

Mom unsnapped the garter belt, but left the stockings on. She pulled a corset from the heap and snapped it in front, pushing her breasts into the strange garment. Her panty crotch was just visible beneath the garment and I watched as she snapped the garters to her stockings. She hung her brassiere over the chair instead of over the top of the screen. 'Modesty clings forever, ' I thought. She slipped into at least two petticoats, draped the Victorian dress down over her hips and then pulled it up to her shoulders. The square neckline revealed her breasts scooped upward into two lovely melons over dress and corset. She came out from behind the screen and turned to let Alan fasten the dress in back.

Music came on and they danced a little, looking every bit the lady and gentleman of that historic time a century and more ago. They seemed to be happy, and laughing together. And then, they left the room!

"They'll be back!" Jennifer said in a more normal voice. "He is a seducer, isn't he?" she murmured as she went back to nuzzling my neck.

We continued our necking. I fondled those lovely breasts and got her blouse open all the way down and gazed with bated breath at those two breasts in the pushup bra.

"Charlie, why don't you take it out?" She squeezed my cock very firmly.

I unzipped and she pushed her hand eagerly inside to find my cock waiting under jockey shorts. She found the opening and my cock fell into her hand. The first touch of soft feminine hand flesh on the bare shaft of my cock is one of those thrilling moments of life; I lay back to let her fondle me bare and eager and taut under her exploring hand. The cool air felt good on the precum-glossed head. To my surprise, she leaned over and sucked my cock head into her mouth. Her tongue eagerly explored the knob and the crease behind it with great enthusiasm. I tried manfully to keep myself in control, but it was very difficult. She felt good, all wet and eagerly sucking me.

I pulled her away for a rest, took her right breast out of the cup and pushed the bra strap down her arm. I dove for the exposed, virginal looking breast, all white and smooth with a perky nipple surrounded by a small circle of dark brown areole. Nice in its way, but different from Mom's breast or Auntie Mame's nipples which were longer and more poignant looking.

But these were nice breasts, too; just different, like learner's size. I grinned inside my head at that insight, and then tried with all my might to swallow Jennifer's whole breast. I let it slip gently from my mouth and concentrated on the tiny nipple.

"Ohhhhh..." she said, as she ran her hand though my hair and pulled my head closer.

She had my dick in her hand, jacking slowly up and down the shaft while we sat there uncomfortably cramped, eager for each other's bodies.

Jennifer slipped her hand into her left brassiere cup and scooped her other tit into my waiting mouth. I knelt on the floor so I could suckle her more easily. Her tits were jutting out to me over the crumpled bra, which sagged below the shelf of her tits. She craned her arms around and loosed the snaps. The brassiere slid down her arms and she put it beside us, then lay back to enjoy me sucking her nipples.

"Ohhhh, yes, Charlie ... yes..." she moaned. I continued suckling, going one to the other, alternating from whole breast to nipple, from sucking to nibbling, to biting and pulling her nipples away from her body and letting them snap back into place. Each time I did that, she gave out a little cry of pain/pleasure. I slipped my hands under her skirt along the outside of her thighs. I could feel that soft little fuzz of a few hairs, invisible to the eye, but there nevertheless on her thighs. My hands came to rest on her panties and Jennifer kept me busy moving my head from side to side, alternating breasts. I licked my way down one mound to the valley floor and then up the other mound to capture the cute little nipple at the top. I was wildly excited. This was the farthest any of the girls my age had let me go. My hands on her panties, my mouth simply devouring both tits -- this was indeed heaven. Her legs were apart for me to get to her tits, but I didn't try to put my hands up between her legs, I was waiting for my nerve to reach a new high. I could smell the scent of her sex, though, and it was driving me wild.

Suddenly our parents burst into the Victorian room, continuing dance steps started down the hall in the ballroom, I decided.

I sat up on the couch with Jennifer and we let our pounding hearts subside a little, still fondling each other, and snuggling close on the couch. Jennifer looped her leg over mine; the shadow of her skirt tenting across pretty thighs distracted me terribly. "Is she going to let me fuck her? Is that possible?" I began to think it was possible. "Do I have a rubber in my bill fold?" Panic!

They danced awhile and then stopped. They kissed. They stood against each other. His hand found her bottom under all those petticoats and they laughed together over that. They stood in one place, rubbing against each other to the music in the background. Their kisses became longer and more intense. I knew that her tongue was exploring his, that her nipples would be hard under the corset.

Then a strange thing happened, they opened the cabinet of leather harnesses and began looking them over and selecting a few. He went over to a chair and turned it and unfolded it and it became something else. He positioned Mom before it and she looked at it questioningly, then obediently followed his instruction and bent over it. She leaned her bosom on the velvet top and extended her arms down from there. It seemed to be just the right height for her to be bent over it at a 90 degree angle.

Alan took each wrist and cuffed her to a chain and then knelt on the floor near her head and fastened the chain to the leg of the chair. They laughed a little as he looked into her eyes, squatted on the floor like he was, and then kissed her lips with some tenderness. He went to the other side and clipped her other chain to the leg of the chair too.

From the cupboard he brought what seemed to be silk scarves and bound her ankles to the back legs of the chair. My Mother was now bent at the middle, helplessly chained to this object that had looked like an ordinary overstuffed chair. He pressed his hands to her bottom as he helped himself up. Again he returned to the cabinet and returned, dragging the tip of a whip and another object, a paddle. I saw my mother shake her head, craning to look up at him but helpless to move. He put the paddle away but then came to stand behind her. He pressed his mid section against her bottom and his hands found her breasts and squeezed for a long minute.

I heard her moan quietly. Hardly audible.

And then with a flourish, he whipped her dress and petticoats up over her waist and Jennifer squeezed my cock as my mother's bottom, clothed in long legged pantaloons, came into view. The lacy but plain under-drawers had buttons below the knee and her stocking showed though the opening up the side of the pantaloons. Even in these old fashioned panties, she looked terribly sexy to me. Jennifer had a tight hold on my cock and I slipped my hand under her skirt and felt her panties against my hand. I squeezed her thigh the way she was squeezing me and pressed my fingers against the folds of her pussy, feeling the wet panties. Very wet panties.