Harriet Peniston 12 - Sons and Mothers

Harriet gets to grips with the swinging website.

Swing-UK was obviously a busy website. Harriet found she had over a hundred messages waiting for her when she checked the next morning. It was overwhelming, and she was shocked at how many people seemed to be a part of it.

Not knowing where to start, she decided to message Angela for advice. She got a reply later that morning. It was lucky she spotted it amongst the incoming tide of messages that just kept building up.

The advice was to delete them all and to keep deleting for at least the first two weeks. She should set her message preferences to “verified users only”, and Angela would verify her to allow it. This should remove all the rubbish and make it more manageable. Harriet remembered Witness’s advice about not replying to messages. It all seemed very familiar.

She received the verification. “Me and K met Gemma on one of our outdoor expeditions. We played and K fucked her. Genuine person and would meet again”. No romance there, thought Harriet. It was very to the point, but she pressed accept and felt a thrill as it was published on her profile and she saw the tick against her name. She messaged Angela back to thank her.

“Why not come round this afternoon. I can give you more advice and tell you about some things”, was Angela’s reply. Harriet accepted and Angela sent across her address and postcode.

Angela lived in one of those old council estates and, although she hated to admit it, it scared Harriet. Following her satnav she got lost several times as turnings led to blocked off parking spaces, leading to driving around looking at signs that were high up on each block wall. They weren’t tower blocks, although a couple of those loomed over the area, but three story flats. Angela lived at 68 Ashwood, and Harriet eventually spotted a sign reading “49-72 Ashwood”. She breathed a sigh of relief and parked her car, although she was nervous about leaving it.

The block was grey. The ground was grey. The sky was grey. “More ash than wood”, thought Harriet as she walked towards the block looking for a door. She felt ridiculously conspicuous and just wanted to get inside.

She found a door. It had an entry buzzer system. Harriet just hoped it worked and that she could figure out how to use it. There were instructions on the panel and Harriet pressed 6, 8 and the bell button. “Calling 68” repeated a disembodied voice followed by a beeping sound. She heard Angela’s voice. “It’s Harriet”, she said. She heard a buzz and pulled the door. It opened.

Despite being through the door she still seemed to be outside in an external stairwell. She followed the stairs up to the top which was labelled “65-72”. It led to an external balcony and she walked along it looking at the numbers. This was a million miles away from her own life and it made her uncomfortable. The door to 68 was open and she heard Angela call out as she got to the door. She entered.

“Do you want a cuppa?”, asked Angela as she entered the passage.

“Oh, yes please”, said Harriet, out of politeness.

“Go through”, said Angela indicating her living room.

Harriet entered the living room. It wasn’t unclean but it was very tired. The only seat was a long sofa. It looked very well used and worse for wear, crushed under years of bodies. Harriet wondered what those bodies might have been doing on there.

In front of the sofa was a coffee table. It had cup marks all over it and on it was a half full ashtray. Harriet couldn’t remember the last time she saw an ashtray in a house.

A large mirror hung on the wall and in the corner was a large TV. It seemed to be the only new item in the room. Harriet sat on the sofa. She was worried about smelling of cigarettes, but she also noticed another unusual smell that she assumed it was something else in the cigarettes. She put her bag down on the coffee table where she could see it.

Angela entered carrying two mugs of tea, and settled on the sofa next to Harriet.

“Is Kevin at work?”, said Harriet, purely to get a conversation going.

“Oh we don’t live together,” said Angela laughing. “He’s married. I’m divorced”, she added.

“Oh”, said Harriet confused.

“His wife knows, but she doesn’t play. It can be best to team up with a fella. It’s safer”.

“Oh”, said Harriet again. She didn’t know what to say. This was well outside of her comfort zone.

“Now you are verified things should settle down and you should just get genuine messages. I’m surprised you didn’t know about it if you play”.

“No, I had no idea”, said Harriet, although she didn’t want to let on that this was fairly new to her.

“You want to see what it’s like in the evening?”, said Angela with a smile, as she crossed to the TV and inserted a memory stick. She browsed through some files and selected one.

The screen showed Angela on the picnic bench, there must have been about 7 men around her jostling to get close and reaching out to touch her. They all had their cocks out and Angela was doing her best to reach out to them all. Suddenly she was on her back being fucked. The men all encouraging the chosen one, although Harriet was sure they’d all get their turn. The comments reminded her of the men who masturbated over her pictures in The Witness Program. She looked at Angela who was smiling at her.

“You’d like that?”, said Angela “That was a busy night, it’s not always like that”. Harriet didn’t know what to say.

Instead Harriet pulled out her phone and browsed to a video of her with Witness and handed it to Angela to watch.

“Oh nice”, she said as she watched Harriet being pounded by his large cock. “You don’t get many blacks out there. There are a few on the estate, but they keep themselves to themselves usually. Lucky bitch “, she said. “He looks strong. Powerful”.

Harriet nodded, glad to have recovered some control. “He was “.

“Not around anymore?”, asked Angela.

“No”, said Harriet, shaking her head.

“Pity”, said Angela as she handed back her phone.

Harriet put the phone back in her bag. She was wondering what to do next when she felt Angela’s hand on her knee. She turned to her. They kissed.

It was a long snog, as Harriet would have once said, their tongues meshing and rolling around each other. The taste of cigarettes made Harriet light headed rather than sick. They broke off. Angela removed her top and unclipped her bra letting her large breasts sway as she moved. “This way”, she indicated and Harriet followed her to the bedroom.

The bedroom was as tired as the living room, and the bed was unmade and again had obviously seen a lot of heavy use. She could make so much more of this, thought Harriet as she undressed. Angela was already naked and on the bed. Harriet joined her.

The feel of Angela’s body against her own felt welcoming. Angela’s hand went to Harriet’s breast before she took it in her mouth, sucking.

“Mmmmmm, I love your tits”, she said as she came back for another kiss, sliding her hand between Harriet’s legs. Harriet smiled. It felt good to be desired. Especially by another woman.

Harriet moved her own hand to Angela’s cunt, pushing her fingers inside and moving them as she liked to do on herself. She heard Angela moan with pleasure. It felt nice. She wanted to lick, to taste, but had already decided it wouldn’t be with Angela. Something about it just put her off. She tried to put it out of her mind.

Angela moved down and started to lick Harriet’s pussy. Harriet opened her legs more and felt her tongue probing fast all over. Fingers joined then. Angela certainly knew what she was doing.

As she felt her orgasm rise Harriet grabbed Angela’s head and started to rub against her face. Angela made encouraging noises which pushed her over the edge and she had another body shuddering orgasm. When it subsided she saw Angela was looking at her smiling.

“Sorry”, said Harriet.

“No need. I enjoyed it”, said Angela and they lay together for a moment.

As Harriet recovered her breath she suddenly heard the front door open and she sat up in shock, pulling up the duvet to cover herself.

“Who’s that?”, she said, concerned.

“Oh don’t worry”, replied Angela, “it’s just my son, Jamie”, and then called out “I’m in here”.

Harriet heard a voice answer back and then noises from the kitchen. She looked at Angela in shock. “Your son? You ... you don’t...?”

Angela understood what she was getting at. “No”, she laughed, and then suddenly stronger “No!”, as if she was disgusted by the question.

Seeing Harriet’s own shock she softened and smiled, “No, but he has some very nice friends “, she said with a wink. “You can if you like”, she added and got up off the bed and walked out the room still naked leaving the door open.

Harriet heard her voice “There’s a nice milf through there if you fancy”, and then saw Jamie at the door looking in at her. Angela appeared, still naked behind him.

Jamie smiled and started undressing. “I’ll put the kettle on”, said Angela returning to the kitchen.

Harriet let the duvet fall revealing her breasts as she watched him remove his underwear. He was slim, lean, about twenty, she thought. She looked at his cock, fully erect and supporting itself as it pointed upwards. It wasn’t thick, but it looked long, and she reached out for it as he climbed on the bed. She held it momentarily, enjoying the feeling of it in her hand. She wanted to suck it, but he was already on top of her and sliding it in. She was very wet and he was fucking her fast before she knew it.

It was the presumption that annoyed her. This was the second time that Angela had offered her up for a fuck without asking. At least Kevin had asked. Jamie just got on and started without saying anything. She didn’t know what was normal anymore. She was being fucked by a boy half her age, in his mother’s bed, while his mother made tea next door in full knowledge of what was happening. He was nice though. Light, but strong body. No flab, and lots of energy. She tried to get herself mentally back into it. He was going fast, like the proverbial rabbit and Harriet tried to adjust to his rhythm.

She suddenly felt that familiar tension in his body. “No, wait for me”, she said, but it was too late as she felt his cum inside her. He pulled out, wiped his cock on his mother’s bedsheets, put his trousers back on and left the room. Harriet was genuinely shocked at it all. Angela’s voice called through,”There’s wipes next to the bed”, she said as it it was all completely natural.

Eventually she got her clothes together and went through to the living room to get her bag. Angela had another mug of tea on the table for her, even though Harriet hadn’t touched the first one. Angela had put a pair of knickers on and was sat smoking on the sofa next to Jamie who was still shirtless. He was attractive, thought Harriet as he looked up at her with a cheeky smile, but the situation was too strange. He was also smoking, a joint by the smell of it. Harriet breathed deeply, feeling daring, but all she could think of was having to put her clothes on a wash as soon as she got home.

“I’ll really have to go”, she said as she picked up her bag from the table and checked that her phone was still there.

“Oh ok, love”, said Angela, “well you know where I am now, keep in touch”.

Harriet nodded and left.

As she walked back to the car, Harriet thought about how Angela was definitely not the sort of person she would normally have as a friend, but things were changing. Maybe she would keep in touch, she wasn’t sure.

Harriet was glad to see her car still in one piece where she left it and wondered if she really was a judgemental snob. She thought about those long afternoons with Witness in his beautiful bedroom, far more in her comfort zone. “Oh Dr Witness Obi, I miss you”, she said out loud to herself as she drove home.

Once home she managed to change and put her laundry on just before the kids got in.

“Mum. Why does your bag smell like weed?”, asked Hannah as she hung up her blazer.

Harriet was flustered for a moment. “Oh I went into town and there was a bunch of lads near me. Do you think that’s what it is? It seems to be everywhere these days”, she finally said in a continuous stream.

Hannah nodded, and then went upstairs slowly shaking her head. It was another strange day.