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Morton Magic

Category: Mature
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“Thank god that’s over,” said Liz as we tidied away the presentation material.

“Hey, you were great,” I said. “Never missed a beat.” And she hadn’t. Liz Morton, from head office. Fortyish, maybe ten or twelve years older than me, but slim and attractive in her tailored suit.

She smiled. “Nor did you, on the technical queries.”

I shrugged. “Well, I was lead programmer on the project, so I ought to know it, but it was you who held it all together. Technical queries I can handle, but giving a presentation to a mixed technical and non-technical audience, that’s beyond me.”

Liz grinned. “I’ve done it before. I still get butterflies in my stomach before I start, but I’m okay once I’m into it. Sometimes I need technical help, and to be candid, Jack, you were one of the best I’ve had.”

I gave her a sardonic bow. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She laughed. “Idiot! Going back tonight?”

I shook my head. “Not this boy. Being so close to the Lakes, I thought I’d take tomorrow and Friday off, go back to being a wage slave on Monday.”

“It’s still the summer holidays, so will you get accommodation okay?”

I grinned. “I have friends. I have the loan of a cottage until Sunday.”

“Lucky you. I’m jealous.”

I shrugged. “Are you going back tonight?”

“No, me neither. Tomorrow is soon enough, although I don’t have to be in until Monday.”

“Well, if you’re staying here tonight, will you have dinner with me? I’m staying over, as I can’t get the cottage keys until after midday tomorrow.”

“Dinner? Jack, I would love to have dinner with you. What time?”

“Dunno. Seven? Eight?”

“Compromise? Seven-thirty?”

“Seven-thirty it is. I’ll just let the restaurant know. See you in the bar, say, seven?”

“Seven it is. For now, I’m going to shower, and change.” She made a face. “Not that I have a lot of clothes with me.”

“Me either. I hate wearing a suit, though, so I have a casual change with me. Could you bear to dine with a man in a polo shirt and chinos?”

She laughed. “I might just manage that.” She looked around. “Right, that seems to be everything. The local office will collect this material in the morning, so I’ll drop it off at reception. Then it’s me for the shower. See you at seven.”

The bar was only half-full when I went in just before seven. I got myself a beer and looked for a table, spotting one in a quiet corner, but where I could see the door, and I’d barely taken a sip of my drink before Liz came in. She spotted me straight away and came over.

“Hi, Liz. What can I get you?”

“Just a tonic water, please, Jack.”

“Ice and lemon?”


“Back in a moment.”

We chatted easily over the drinks, enjoying the break from routine, carried on chatting over dinner, with a nice bottle of shiraz, and carried on chatting over coffee. Liz and I had never actually met before the presentation, although we’d exchanged phone calls and emails, but by the time we reached the coffee I felt as if I’d known her for years. She was easy to be with, Liz Morton. Very easy.

In time, our conversation got around to my plans for the weekend, about the cottage.

“Like I said earlier, I’m jealous,” said Liz.

I had an idea, opened my mouth to speak, but hesitated. Liz raised her eyebrows in query. I shrugged.

“I was going to say, come with me. The cottage has two bedrooms, and I enjoy your company.”

“God, Jack, that is so tempting, but I only have office-type clothes with me.”

“What would you need?”

She shrugged. “Skirt, sweater. Something casual.”

“There are mill shops. One of them might have something suitable. Maybe there will be a sale on.”

Liz laughed. “Definitely tempting.”

“Look, sleep on it. We’ll have breakfast together. You can let me know then, okay?”

“Okay, I will.” She glanced at her watch. “I think I’ll go to bed, Jack. I’m a little tired.”

“Okay. See you at breakfast, then. What time? ”

“Nine? Bit of a lie-in for me, that.”

“Nine it is. I think I’ll have another beer, and then I’ll follow your example, and hit the sack.”

Breakfast was quiet, and it seemed that neither of us was much for conversation that early. I was wondering whether Liz had forgotten my offer and was about to remind her when she forestalled me. She’d finished eating and was toying with her coffee.



“Is your offer still open?”

“The cottage? Yes, of course. You want to come for the weekend?”

“Yes, I think I do. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Absolutely, Liz. I swear.”

“There are two bedrooms?”

I laughed. “There were when I was there last year.”

“Okay, then. Yes, please.”

“Great! I’ll welcome the company.”

We had a fun day, just playing tourist. Being summer, the roads were busy, but we kept off the little back roads — those I prefer to travel by bicycle — and we weren’t in a hurry, so the traffic didn’t bother us. We found a mill shop and, yes, there was a sale on, and Liz spent a few pounds on a simple skirt and sweater.

“Just had a thought, Jack. Were you planning on some hill-walking? I haven’t any boots, and I’d hate to spoil your plans. I have some comfortable walking shoes, I use them for travelling, but they wouldn’t be suitable for anything technical.”

“I was, Liz, but I’m not bothered. I’d rather have your company on a potter around the lake, than be by myself on the fell. No contest, honest.”

“If you’re sure, then.”


“Okay. Um, tonight?”

“What about tonight?”

“Evening meal?”

“We can get an evening meal at the pub, or drive into Borrowdale, maybe Keswick.”

“I assume the cottage has the means to cook? Stove, pans?”

“Of course.”

“Well, let’s just get the ingredients, and I’ll cook dinner. I enjoy cooking, especially if I have company.”

“If you’re sure, then that would be great. But only if you’re sure.”

“Absolutely certain.”

“Great! We’ll stock up in Keswick, should be there about four, I think. I’d like to stop off at the Heaton Cooper gallery at Grasmere, first, if you don’t mind.”

“Mind? Of course not, I’m loving this.”

I like Heaton Cooper’s work, and it was seeing some of his paintings that had led to my love of the Lake district. I bought some coloured pencils which were on sale, and a sketch pad. Liz raised her eyebrows, and I laughed.

“I had ambitions to be an artist when I was younger, in fact I almost went to art school, but realised in time that while I loved it as a hobby, I didn’t really want my life to revolve around it. I studied computer science instead. Never regretted the decision, either.” I brandished the bag with the pad and pencils. “I’ll do some sketches, maybe do a painting when I get home. As you noticed earlier, I have my little Canon digital camera with me, too.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing the sketches.”

“Me, too!” I laughed. “Okay, back to the car. Next stop, Keswick. Food shopping!”

We bought enough to keep us going for a couple of days. Although Liz planned to cook for us that evening, I planned that we’d eat out at least a couple of evenings over the few days we were there. We could always get more food if we needed it. Four o’clock saw us leave Keswick. Four-thirty saw us at the cottage, after a brief detour to collect the keys from Bill’s mother at their farm. Four-thirty-five saw us indoors, with our bags.

“Come on, you can choose your room,” I said, leading the way upstairs. “Bathroom, here. No en-suite, so we’re sharing, I’m afraid.”

“Not a problem, with just two of us.”

“True. Bedroom one.” A double. King-size bed, wardrobe space built-in. I opened the next door. “And here we have — oh, shit! Liz, I’m sorry, I didn’t know anything about this.” ‘This’ was dust sheets, cans of paint, redecorating materials. What there wasn’t was a bed. Bill was obviously redecorating.

“Ah,” said Liz.

I gestured helplessly. “You take the bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs.”

Liz said nothing as I led the way downstairs, but indicated the kitchen. “Kettle on, Jack. Thinking time.” She suited the action to the thought, and busied herself making the tea. While she was busy I looked around and spotted the note propped against the toaster, addressed to me. I opened it, to see Bill’s explanation.

‘Jack,’ it said, ‘you’re the only guest this week, and there are no bookings next week, so I’m doing some renovation. The bed in your bedroom is brand new. Sleep well.’ I held it out to Liz to read. She handed me a cup of tea in exchange.

“I see,” she said. “I knew from the expression on your face that it was a surprise to you, Jack, so you need no apology.” She looked at me, a curious expression on her face. “Jack, do you like me?”

“Yes, I do. Very much, in fact. Today was great, having you with me.”

She smiled. “I thought so, too.” She took a deep breath. “Jack?How do you feel about sharing the bed? And I mean that with every implication understood. When I share a bed with an attractive man it’s not just for sleeping.” There was a spot of colour in her cheeks and I thought she was holding her breath.

Her question had startled me, but my reaction was an immediate ‘yes’. I nodded, holding her eye. “Yes, please,” I said, and she let out the breath she’d been holding with a whoosh. She grinned.

“This weekend just got better,” she said.

I laughed. “Definitely! So, okay, Liz, how do we play this?”

“First,” she said, “we eat. Then we digest for a while. Then, well, then we maybe go for a walk before we go to bed.” She paused. “I usually sleep naked,” she said, her voice very soft.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “So do I.”

“Mmm, saves valuable undressing time. Or should that be not-dressing time? Jack, go and start peeling some potatoes. I’ll just change into my super new clothes and I’ll be with you in a moment, okay?”

“Sure. See you back here in the kitchen.”

She was back quickly, in her bargain outfit from the mill shop. There was something subtly different about her and it took me a while to work out what, until I realised she’d left her bra off when she changed. If nothing else, that sudden realisation convinced me that it was really happening, that a pleasant day spent with a good-looking woman was destined to end in the most pleasurable way I could imagine – in bed together for sex. I was fighting an erection almost immediately, and I’m sure Liz was aware of it, from the number of times she opted to squeeze past me rather than going the other way around the table.

The meal was delicious, although I would probably have eaten flavoured sawdust and enjoyed it! Nothing exotic, just gammon steaks, baby potatoes and broccoli, with cheese and biscuits for afters. Neither of us being wine freaks, we’d agreed on a bottle of merlot we both knew we liked. We talked, oh, boy, we talked, about anything and everything we could think of, finding common likes, dislikes, agreements, disagreements, everything in fact except what was on both of our minds. Sex.

Meal finished, washing up done together, me washing, Liz drying, we took our second glasses of wine into the living room. There was an open fire, but it was late summer and it wasn’t cold. No TV, but I knew Bill’s tastes and we soon had the stereo turned on and a Madeleine Peyroux CD playing. Next to me, on the couch, Liz kicked her shoes off, tucked her legs under her, and half-turned to me.

“Penny for them, Jack?”

“Thinking about you, actually. The private Liz Morton, the one I don’t know.”

She laughed. “Capsule history? Pregnant and married at seventeen, widowed at nineteen. Remarried at twenty-five, divorced at thirty-three. Single since. The occasional man friend, even more occasional lover. One daughter, Kate, just coming up to her twenty-third birthday while I hurtle headlong towards forty. What about you?”

I shrugged. “Still single. No steady girl friend at the moment. Never married, although I got close once.”

“What happened?”

“She went off with the guy I thought was my best friend. They’ve been married three years, have a baby daughter and seem very happy. We’re in the process of re-establishing contact.” I laughed. “I wish them well, there’s no hard feelings. I bumped into them in Hexham one day, and we chatted. They were wary, but I think I managed to convince them I was friendly and we parted on good terms.”

“That’s good to hear. We all need good friends.” She paused, and when she went on her voice was low. “And lovers.”

I drained my glass and put it on the coffee table and she mirrored my actions. There was a spot of colour on each cheek and a hesitant smile on her face as she turned to me. I took her hand and drew her closer, slipping my arm around her shoulders. There was no hesitation as she turned her face up for my kiss, gentle at first as we learned each other’s taste, but we both knew there was more, and the kiss deepened, heated, Liz’s lips parting under mine, our tongue tips questing, duelling.

My left arm was around her shoulders, my right on her hip, and I let my hand move up, making its sneaky way to cup her breast. I don’t think it was any surprise to Liz, as she moved slightly and I’m sure it was so that her left breast fitted the better into my cupped hand. I could feel the smile in her kiss as her hand came up to press mine against her, and I was momentarily nonplussed when she lifted my hand off her, but it was only to move it down, then slide it up and under her sweater, so that I could cup the naked softness of her, her nipple hard against my palm. The smile in her kiss became a grin and she broke away for a moment, murmuring, “now you know why I left my bra off,” before her lips captured mine again.

It was Liz who broke the kiss again, leaning back, my hand still cupping her breast, a soft smile on her face.


I nodded. I don’t think my voice would have worked, in any case. Liz smiled. “Leave the glasses, we’ll wash them in the morning.” I let my hand slide off her, loving the feel of her skin as my hand slid down her, and as my hand came free, Liz stood, holding her hand out and taking mine, hauling me to my feet, my half-hard erection bulging the front of my chinos. Liz grinned, and squeezed the bulge.

“Mmm. nice. Me want!”

“Um, Liz? Do I need anything?”

She stopped, solemn. “Contraceptives?” I nodded, and she nodded, too. “Yes, Jack, I’m afraid so. Have you got any?”

“Yes, I do. I carry three in my wallet. Guess I’m an optimist.”

“Three?” said Liz. “Good. We’ll get some more tomorrow.” I laughed. I had the feeling I was going to enjoy myself.

In the bedroom Liz teased me, slipping her skirt off before she took off her sweater. She stood, barefoot, the sweater offering tantalising glimpses of her panty-clad pussy, and gestured to me.

“Come, on, Jack. This is two-way traffic. Get them off!”

I grinned at her and pulled off my polo shirt. Liz came close and ran her fingers over my chest, stroking, then reached to my belt and loosened it, unbuttoned the stud on my fly and slid the zipper down, then slid her hand into my chinos, all the while holding my eyes, an impish half-smile on her face. She stopped, stripped off her sweater and discarded it and before I could take a moment to appreciate her breasts, she was rubbing her nipples, her very erect nipples, over my chest, while her hands went down the back of my chinos, inside my boxer shorts, and began to lower chinos and shorts, her nipples trailing down over my chest as she moved.

I was glad when my shorts had negotiated the obstacle of my prick, because it was hard, proud, and moved between Liz’s breasts as she went to her knees, lowering my chinos and shorts to my ankles. I hissed in a breath as her mouth closed over me, her tongue swirling over my glans, her lips nipping at me, but she let it slip from her mouth with a soft ‘pop’ and uncoiled to her feet, her breasts rubbing against me all of the way up. Her arms went around my neck and her lips came to mine again in a kiss, a hot kiss, a kiss of want, of desire, a kiss that almost made my toes curl.

It was Liz that broke it, pirouetting away to the bed, shimmying her panties down while she wiggled her butt at me. I kicked my chinos and shorts off my feet and followed her to the bed, just as she turned, her panties dangling from one elegant finger. She gave me a rueful smile.

“Sometime tomorrow, Jack, I need to get out of bed long enough to find somewhere I can buy some spares. These are soaking!”

“Sometime,” I agreed, my mind trying to absorb her implied dallying. “But now?” I said, taking the panties from her and holding them to my nose, breathing deep. Erotic, rousing scent of super-heated, sexually charged female.

“Now?” she said. “Now, we fuck! No need for foreplay, Jack, I’ve been anticipating this since breakfast.” She smiled at my surprised look. “Yes, Jack, since breakfast. I’m surprised you couldn’t smell me in the car. I want you hard and deep, now. Later, we can play, but it’s almost a year since I had a prick in my pussy, and it wasn’t as pretty as yours.” She smiled, laying herself on the bed, her legs spread, holding her hand out to me, a look of anticipation, almost of pleading, on her face.

I dropped her panties on top of her other clothes and moved to kneel between her spread legs. I could study her now, naked before me, a touch of colour in her cheeks, her eyes bright, nipples erect, a sheen of moisture in the cleft of her pussy. Pubic hair neatly trimmed to her bikini line, breasts flattened now as she lay back, but lovely mounds, topped by erect nipples, surprisingly large, on her inch-across rose-brown areolae. I’d grabbed a rubber from my wallet and I quickly unrolled it onto my hardness, Liz watching me with a little smile curving her lips.

I leaned forward, weight on one outstretched arm, my hardness between finger and thumb, aiming for the moisture I could see – smell! – between her legs. Her hand covered mine, lifting it away, replacing it with her own cool fingers.

“Let me,” she murmured, guiding me into the heat and wetness of her pussy, a hiss from between clenched teeth as she felt me enter her, her sheath a clinging scald around me, tightening, so that I had to pull back, then press forward, then again, until every bit of my prick that would fit was inside her. She moaned softly, then stretched up to give me a quick kiss. “You feel good,” she whispered. “Fuck me, Jack, fuck me hard.”

Invited to paradise, I went. I pulled back and then pushed deep again, loving the feel of her around me. Her knees came up and her feet hooked together behind my butt, and as I pushed in again, I got a helpful assist from my willing partner, prompting a shared grin.

“Naughty,” I murmured.

“Ooh, yes, please!” said Liz, fighting a giggle. “This is the sort of naughty I like.”

“Mm, me too.”

Liz was wet, ready for me, and I could hear the slither of my prick in her wetness as I thrust, a liquid sound that stimulated my senses. It had been a while since I’d masturbated, even longer since my prick had been anywhere but my hand, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I came, but I tried to take my time, tried to make the moment as good as possible for Liz, trying desperately to think of anything but how good it felt to feel my prick moving in Liz Morton’s talented pussy. It didn’t last, it couldn’t, I was too excited, but even as I opened my mouth to tell Liz that I was coming, I felt the clutch of her pussy around me, a spasm deep inside her and she came, pulling me over the precipice of climax with her, my hips driving me into her even as her pussy milked the last drop of come from me. Slowly, I stilled. Slowly, my breathing returned to normal. Slowly I raised my eyes to Liz’s, seeing the answering wonder in hers. Holding her tight, staying inside her, I rolled onto my back so that she was on top. I grinned at her and she laughed.

“That, Jack, was good.” I shook my head. Her face fell. “It wasn’t good?”

“No, Liz, it wasn’t good.” I paused. “It was fucking marvellous!”

She laughed. “Idiot. What time is it?”

“Who cares? Um, just after eight.”

“Can we do it again soon?”

“Is that an invitation?”

“An invitation? Of course it’s an invitation, idiot!”

“Well, then. Let’s put it this way, if it’s anything to do with me, the answer is an unqualified ‘yes’.”


She turned her head on my chest and we lay in silence for a while. “Liz?”



Her head came up and she smiled. “Mainly because I wanted to, because I like you, and probably because it’s almost a year since I had sex with anyone I even halfway liked. I was seriously thinking of taking the lesbian route.”

I laughed. “Glad you didn’t.”

“So am I!” She giggled suddenly.


“My daughter tried it.”


“She said it was great fun, but that a dildo or strap-on could never replace a good, hot, hard prick with a warm, caring man attached who has the skill to use it.”

“She sounds eminently sensible, your daughter. You sound as if you have a good relationship?”

“We do. Like I said, I was only seventeen when she was born, so I never had the sort of life a lot of girls have. You know, parties, dances, that sort of thing. I was always busy looking after Kate. Then, when Jim died I had to get work, to keep us. I’m lucky, my mum looked after Kate during the day and I had her every night. I’m glad, because that meant I could see her develop, and I never missed those parties. We’ve always been close, and I love her.”

“I think I can tell that.”

“She’d like you, I think.”

“Nice of you to say so.” A thought struck me. “Um, Liz, does Kate know where you are tonight?”

“If you mean, in bed with you, then no, not specifically, but she knows I came with you and knowing me, she probably wouldn’t be surprised.”

I frowned, puzzled. “Hang on. You only made the decision to come with me this morning, and you haven’t phoned her while I’ve been with you.”

Liz smiled at me, a gentle smile. “Jack, I made up my mind last night, after I went back to my room, and I told Kate when I phoned her.”

“Last night?”

She nodded. “Last night.”

“When, last night?”

She laughed. “About halfway through the sweet.”

“Why then?”

“Partly because you had just given your undivided attention to a little anecdote I was telling, and didn’t let yourself be distracted.”

“You mean by Miss Cleavage 2009?”

Liz laughed again. “You did see her!”

“Hard to miss, and totally not my type. I prefer my lady friends to be a little understated, not so loud they can be heard coming a county away.” I grinned. “Besides, you have the better figure!”

Liz looked startled. “You’re joking!”

I shook my head. “No way. You most definitely have the better figure, certainly for me you do.”

“You know who she is?”

I nodded. “Small time actress, gets sexy walk-on parts and emotes.”

Liz laughed. “Ouch.”

“I think she’s had breast implants. They never look right to me, whereas you, dear Liz, are definitely natural and a pleasure to see and touch.”

“Thank you, kind sir.”

“My pleasure.”

Liz lifted herself, leaning on one outstretched arm, her lovely, natural breasts pendant. Nipples still erect, I noticed. “Rested enough?”

“Probably, yes. Why? Got plans?”

“For round two? Yes, I have.”

“Good. Anything I need to do?”

Liz grinned, wicked, almost feral. “Lie back and enjoy, while I weave Morton magic!”

I grinned back at her. I’d never anticipated anything like this happening when Liz and I had worked on the presentation the previous day. I’d looked forward to a few days away from work, enjoying the beautiful Lake District. I had the feeling that I wasn’t going to see an awful lot of the Lake District, but I had the feeling, too, that I wasn’t going to care. Morton magic? The magic of summer? Gimme! I wondered if she’d let me sketch her. Nude, of course. I guessed I’d find out soon enough.

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