1. Tartan Blanket


    Date: 9/9/2016, Categories: Cheating, Author: marlowe, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

    carried Eileen’s case and his deflated appendage. Eileen carried the soiled tartan blanket containing his fertile seed. After a friendly hug at the door and an exchange of comforting words of condolences, Ellen Brand ushered Malcolm and Eileen into the warmth of her living room. “I’ve put you and Malcolm in Frank and Mark’s room,” she said, forcing a smile that quickly faded. “Single beds, I hope that’s okay,” she added, in a whispered apology. “Couldn’t be better,” Eileen uttered, under her breath. “Frank’s stopping at a friend’s house. Mark can sleep downstairs on the sofa,” Ellen said, removing a handkerchief that she always kept under her sleeve and wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “I’ll take you to your room. After you’ve hung your clothes up, we can eat,” Ellen offered, an outstretched hand forcing another question. “Let me carry that blanket for you.” “No!” Eileen croaked her voice a little too high. “I can manage,” she insisted, lower her voice and pulling the stained blanket against her chest. It was pouring with rain the day of Victoria’s funeral. Surrounded by a sea of headstones blackened through the passage of time, family and friends gathered around the open grave to say goodbye to Victoria. Ignoring the rain battering against his face the minister opened his bible. “Our father which art in heaven...” voices croaked through sobs, sniffles and tears as the coffin was lowered into the ground by four burly men holding thick ropes. Under a veil of black ...
    umbrellas, family and friends said their final goodbye to Victoria. As the mourners slowly melted away in a steady tide of grief and the gravediggers shovelled the earth back into the hole, Eileen and Mark linked arms with Ellen as they headed towards a black limousine waiting at the main gates of the cemetery. Eddie and Malcolm followed slowly on their heels, stopping occasionally to read faceless names on a headstone. “These fucking graves are getting a bit too close to the dual-carriageway. I hope they keep enough room for me,” Eddie mumbled, through a cloud of cigarette smoke. “I’ve told her to burn me. There not putting me in a fucking hole,” Malcolm uttered. Ellen made a shushing noise in quiet protest. Eileen smiled. Mark wasn’t listening. His mind was on other things. Eileen still managed a smile when they accidently touched hands in the funeral car. Under a veil of silence the limousine pulled slowly away from the cemetery, the closeness and familiarity in the back seat bringing back memories of their impulsive intimacy in the back of his father’s car. Their eyes met briefly and she shuffled uncomfortably in the seat, her breathing increasing, her breasts rising and falling, the whisper of nylon brushing over thighs as she crossed and uncrossed her legs, staring out the window, trying to hide her emotions, trying to calm the ache between her legs. The thought of ripping her knickers off and fucking her in the back seat of a funeral car stirred the sleeping muscle inside ...
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