1. Tartan Blanket


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

    fall off the end smelling of piss.” He smiled and winked at his son. “So you must have thought about what I said, otherwise you wouldn’t have become an architect. Who knows son, one day you might be the next Christopher Robin,” he smiled, nodding his head and lifting his shoulders. “You never know,” he chimed. He was about to correct his father’s mistake but fearing it might grow into an extended debate, which he wasn’t really in the mood for, he just sighed and waited for the anecdote that always followed. “There are only two things that matter in life, son. Sex and money,” his father offered, pulling on his cigarette. “This is not a rehearsal son. Get as much as you can before you die,” he added, searching his memory for the name of his wife’s sister. “Look at your aunt Gloria, poor sod. It’s only been six months since we put her in the ground and she’s already forgotten. She had no life with that bastard she married. He spent his money like a drunken sailor. If he wasn’t spending it on drink, he was throwing it away in the betting shop,” Eddie barked, flicking ash from his cigarette, echoing his words of advice. “Get as much as you can son.” For a man who didn’t have a driving licence, Eddie Brand handled a car extremely well. If you were to ask him why he had never taken a driving test he would be the first to tell you that driving licences are for people who lack the confidence and need a certificate to tell them they are competent behind a wheel. The country roads ...
    had a covering of black ice and required his father’s deep concentration, so the rest of the journey fell silent until they reached Bishop Auckland. Eileen Brand waved a welcoming hand from her living-room window when the Rover pulled to a halt outside her dreary council house. “Come inside, Eddie,” she invited, raising both hands and wiggling her fingers. “And bring that handsome son of yours with you,” she added, a cheerful smile lighting up her face. “I’ve made you and Mark a brew and something to eat,” she offered, spinning on her heels and heading to the kitchen. After a cursory glance in the living room, Eddie lit two cigarettes and handed one to Eileen. “Where’s Malcolm?” he enquired, pulling on his cigarette. “Where do you think,” Eileen cursed. “He’s in bed pissed. Your brothers always pissed,” she barked. “I married the wrong fucking brother,” she mocked, covering her mouth with her hand in the way of an apology when she realised her outburst of inappropriate language might have embarrassed Eddie’s son. “You handsome young architect,” she said, forcing a smile and flashing her eyes, brushing her fingers through his long hair, hoping this playful gesture would recompense for her careless oversight. “Building surveyor,” he offered, catching a glimpse of her huge breasts, sitting quickly on a stool to hide an untimely erection beneath the kitchen table. “How’s Ellen coping with the loss of Victoria?” Eileen enquired, pouring tea into cups and placing a plate of ham ...
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