DREAMS

When I have dreams

Those dreams are of you

I tingle at the thought of them

Those dreams so blue

Each searing moment

Is burnt in my memory

I hope when I sleep tonight

I dream again of you and me 

Mornington-By-Mere – (90) In Funereal Finery

 

One of the inevitable side effects of getting older is that you seem to attend more and more funerals with every passing year, which is ironically just part of life, but for Peter St George funerals had always had a profoundly erotic effect upon him ever since the incident that occurred on the morning of his grandfather’s funeral in 1963 when he was just 15 years old.

They were all staying at Mornington Manor, the home of the St George clan, and it was a full house so he took the chance amidst the hustle and bustle to sneak into his 20 year old Cousin Julie’s bedroom while she was having a bath so he could go in her handbag and pinch a couple of cigarettes.

But she finished in the bathroom sooner than he anticipated, so not wishing to get in trouble for stealing he hid in the wardrobe instead.

He was hoping she had just forgotten something and wouldn’t be long and would return to the bathroom so he could escape, but she didn’t so he just waited and watched her.

She was sitting on the bed as she dried her long brown hair which was very boring and he thought about stepping out and confessing but then she stood up and he watched her as she turned her back to him and began drying her curvaceous body with a large bath sheet but she offered tantalizing glimpses of what was hidden from view, which was very sensual.

Peter carried on watching in fascination until the moment she turned around and threw the towel on to the bed and he saw the first naked woman of his life.

His eyes were like saucers as they were drawn first to her breasts, and their associated adornments, which were even more amazing than he had imagined, and then he moved onto the parts he hadn’t imagined at all.

Peter continued looking at her as she began to dress, first she put on her black suspender belt around her narrow waist and then pulled on a pair of black silk French drawers.

Cousin Julie did each item deliciously slowly just as if she knew she was playing to an appreciative audience.

Next she sat on the bed and pulled on the first of her seamed black stockings up her long slender leg and as she leant forward to fasten the suspender her breasts hung voluptuously down and then at the same slow deliberate pace she repeated the process for the second stocking.

Cousin Julie stood up after fastening the second suspender and seemed to look straight at him and smiled before she harnessed her large round breasts in a black lacy contraption.

And when she had finished fastening her bra he saw the image to which every woman would be subsequently compared for the rest of his life.

The addition of an under slip did not diminish his appreciation of her but when the dress went on he knew the show was over.

 

Peter had to continue to wait in the closet for another 25 minutes after she finished dressing while she applied her makeup and only when she finally went downstairs could he escape his hiding place.

As he got to the door he looked back towards the wardrobe and he could see the reason he thought she was looking at him and smiling because next to the wardrobe door was a full-length mirror.

That day stamped a mark on him that lasted a lifetime and now whenever he sees a woman in Funereal Finery he gets aroused.

 

He never forgot that day and try as he might he never found anyone to come anywhere near matching what had become his ideal. 

But then on his 24th birthday he finally realised that they weren’t Julie.

So one year later after that realisation Peter and Julie were married at St Winifred’s church in Mornington and he had finally found his ideal woman.

LIFE IS GOOD

Life is good

Life is great

Life is something

I appreciate

 

My life is good

My life is great

My life is something

I celebrate

 

 I love my life

And I love you too

You are my life

And life gave me you

Mornington-By-Mere – (89) In His Favourite Chair

 

Widowed Professor Keith Stewart was a dry and crusty academic who was Professor of History at Abbottsford University.

He was in his fifty-fifth year and was considered by everyone who knew him in academic circles to be as dull as ditch water and capable of talking about nothing but his subject, in detail and at length.

But no one was ever as they seemed and he was no exception.

He lived in the quaint chocolate box English Village of Mornington-By-Mere, which was the beating heart of the Finchbottom Vale.

There were a number of cottages and small houses in the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside and he lived at number 1 Dulcets Road Cottages which was his bolt hole, his escape from the academic world where he could enjoy his well-appointed library and his well upholstered chair.

His daughter Julie was away at University herself and as much as he loved her he loved having the house to himself more and that was because he had a lover.

 

Laura Prins was a single parent and lived in the house next door with her son Liam but he was also away at University.

Keith would spend four days a week in Abbottsford where he would spend the majority of his time in his rooms reading and looking forward to getting back to the arms of the voluptuous Laura.

 

Their relationship began at Christmas ten years earlier when he had too much wine and kissed her, and to his great delight she kissed him back.

At first they snatched moments here and there, when they found themselves alone, such as when their children were at school, or at a friends or later on when they were working, but in the three years since the children went off to University they had enjoyed each other whenever and wherever they wanted, and they really wanted to a lot.   

So when all his lectures were cancelled for the day he took the opportunity to get home to Mornington and spend the day in the loving arms and ample bosom of his Laura.

 

As she wasn’t expecting him back he phoned her from the car but it went straight to voice mail.

He was disappointed not to have spoken to her but he pressed on regardless and by the time he reached the village it was early afternoon and the sun, which had burnt off the early cloud had steadily grown in strength.

He parked the car on the drive and when he went in through the side gate he was surprised to find that the French doors were open to the Morning Room, so called as it was the room that got the morning sun, but he used it as his Study. 

He walked towards the open doors and was about to burst in and chastise whoever it was that had violated his inner sanctum.

But as he got closer he noticed that although the doors were open the curtains were not so instead of entering the Morning room from the garden he chose to peer through the gap between the curtains first and he spied a scene which changed the Professor mood in an instant.
His next door neighbour and lover, Laura Prins was sitting in his favourite leather chair.

He loved that chair with its faded and cracked Brown Leather, which was well stuffed and comfortable.

But at that moment he loved it even more as Laura sat in the chair with one leg draped over the arm and she was wearing his daughter Julie’s old school uniform and she was smiling because she knew he was watching her.

“Come in professor”

So he did as instructed and pushed the curtain aside and stepped in.

“How did you know I was coming?” he asked

“I spoke to Liam this morning and he told me that lectures had been cancelled” she explained “And I knew what you would want to do with your free time”

“You know me to well” he said as he closed the distance between them “I’m clearly too predictable”

“I would have been very disappointed if you hadn’t come home” she said

“Well I wouldn’t want to disappoint you” he said and bend down her kissed her expectant lips

“You never have yet” she said coyly 

 

An hour later the middle aged schoolgirl had more of her uniform on the floor than on her and he was no better.

“Time to get you up to the dorm girl” he said and slapped her buttock

“Yes Professor” she responded, then she pushed past him and ran giggling up the stairs.

“They wouldn’t call me dry and crusty, or dull if they knew how I spent my afternoons” he said to himself and smiled.

I DRAW A CIRCLE

 

I draw a circle

As a symbol

To demonstrate my love

I do not start

To draw a heart

Because a heart can break

So, I draw a circle

As a symbol

For a circle goes on forever

Mornington-By-Mere – (88) The Widow and the Widower

 

Mornington-By-Mere is a small country village lying in the Finchbottom Vale nestled between the Ancient Dancingdean Forest and the rolling Pepperstock Hills.

It is a quaint picturesque village, a proper chocolate box picturesque idyll, with a Manor House, 12th Century Church, a Coaching Inn, Windmills, an Old Forge, a Schoolhouse, a River and a Mere.

But Mornington-By-Mere is not just a quaint chocolate box English Village it is the beating heart of the Finchbottom Vale and there were a number of cottages and small houses on the Purplemere road and Dulcets Lane which formed the part of Mornington Village known as Manorside and Marcus Clooney lived at number 4 Brewery Cottages with his son and daughter.

 

But this story takes place away from Mornington when he was staying at the Worsted Viper Hotel in Purplemere and was not at all happy because he had reached the age of 58 and had acquired an unfortunate body shape, and the consequence of that was that gravity had become his enemy and a simple mirror was now his nemesis.

In the privacy of his own home he was able to minimise his exposure to the spiteful honesty of the looking glass and therefore perpetuate the falsehood that he was 20 years younger and 4 stones lighter.

He had found to his cost however that he could control his exposure to a much lesser degree in the wider world.

For example shops and stores all possess a multitude of polished surfaces and shopping centres are all bedecked with glass and mirrors, but by far the worst in his experience were hotels, in particular the one he was staying in at that moment.

It was a nice hotel, no question about that, in fact it was a rather grand and elegant place and the venue for what he very much hoped would be a dirty weekend.

However the downside to staying in an above average Hotel was the number and the positioning of mirrors.

A whole wall in the bathroom, a full length mirror in the hall and another monster above the writing desk (come dressing table), but the worst by a country mile was the bathroom.

There is nothing that dents the confidence more than seeing your naked form as others might see you if you were fortunate enough to reach that level of intimacy with them.

It was when Markus was in the shower, that he caught sight of himself, and the full horror of what he saw was not even diminished when viewed through the steam in the shower, the water droplets on the shower door and the condensation on the mirror.

In short the image did not leave him possessed of any self confidence in fulfilling his hopes of soon reaching that afore mentioned level of intimacy with a not unattractive widow of his acquaintance Rebecca Vineyard, in the room across the hall.

Marcus’s face had stood the test of time well enough but his body had been badly abused

“I bet Rebecca looks better in the bathroom mirror” he said out loud

 

He was quite presentable for his age when dressed in his dinner suit and the accessories, and without being conceited he was confident he could leave her satisfied, so to speak, if he got that far but his great fear was that he would leave her disappointed with his natural appearance.

 

Fellow Mornington resident Rebecca Vineyard meanwhile, was having much the same internal discussion as she stood before her own mirror, though even after 3 children and a hysterectomy her body had not reached the level of decline that his had although everything generally was a little further south than it used to be.

Finally she deemed herself satisfied with the final look, she just hoped it would suffice for him, for she had expectations.

However the final presentation was only achieved with undergarments that pulled her in and held her up and her fear was that the way she looked at that moment might well be enough to get him into the bedroom but with everything removed she was worried he wouldn’t go back for seconds.

 

After they ate dinner they sat at the table drinking and eventually they bade the long-suffering waiter a good night, even though it was almost 3 am, and headed, somewhat unsteadily towards their rooms.

Accompanied by raucous laughter they stumbled into the lift and unable to press the button for the floor that they actually wanted they decided to hit them all.

When they reached the first floor Rebecca announced

“This is me”

Markus was on the same floor and said

“Would you like me to see you to your door dear lady?” he asked and attempted a bow

“That would be very gallant kind Sir” she responded trying to curtsy.

He walked her rather unsteadily to her door and once she had managed to finally use the swipe card correctly and open the door she announced.

“Come in for a nightcap” she suggested and before he had chance to decline she dragged him into the room where after some intense negotiations it was decided that coffee was the order of the day.

“You can make the coffee while I just make myself comfortable” she instructed and when she emerged she was wearing only a nightie which left little to the imagination

“Wow” he exclaimed and five minutes later they were in bed together and Rebecca confessed

“It’s been a long time”

“How long?” he asked

“Too long” she replied and kissed him

 

The next morning at the breakfast table they sat across from one another, Marcus wore a smug look of satisfaction while Rebecca wore one of tiredness.

The “exhaustion” however did not prevent her from taking him back to her bed before lunch.

ALWAYS AND FOREVER

 

Always and forever

My love for you will burn

And the one and only thing

For which I yearn

Is that you will notice me

And love me in return