Conflicted Ch. 10

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Chapter 10: He Jumps Her in the Park

New Year’s Eve was the coldest day of 2014, with the temperature dipping below freezing for one of the few times in the whole year. This meant Leslie’s outfit was uncharacteristically modest compared to recent choices; she was wearing a great knitwear dress, thick black leggings, high-heeled boots and a long black fur-lined coat, but, as per the promise she made to Stuart, she was still absent of underwear. The rest of her family finished zipping or buttoning up their winter coats and then hustled quickly to the car.

The first stop they made was to drop of Katie at a New Year’s sleepover party. Lewis’s friends were going to the same fireworks display as Leslie, Malcolm and, unbeknownst to the guys in the car, Stuart. Lewis and his friends were still not on talking terms, so he had been reluctant to agree to meet them, but as Malcolm had told him, it seemed that Lewis was the loser in his self-imposed isolation.

By the time they had arrived near the park where the display was being held, Lewis had decided he should meet up with them. Most people had come in taxis, so despite the large volume of revellers, it hadn’t been as painful as they’d expected to get a place to park, but it was a fair walk from their final destination. They still had a couple of hours to kill before the start, so the trio found a nearby pub and headed in for a drink. Leslie had agreed to drive on the way back, so they had their toast to 2015 in the bar, with a glass of Prosecco each, before Lewis and Malcolm moved onto pints of beer.

At around half 11, the three of them decided it was best to go across to the park to get a good spot. Lewis texted his friends but the signal was patchy, and the message struggled to send, so he decided to stay with his parents until after the fireworks and try and meet his friends then. Lewis may not have been going anywhere, but Leslie had been more organised with her plans.

“Boys,” she said, waiting until her husband and son looked at her, “My hands are freezing, I think left my gloves in the car.”

“You can have mine,” replied Malcolm, pulling off his own gloves.

“They’ll be too big and you’ll get cold; I think I can get mine and come back before midnight.”

“OK, be quick though, you’ve got about 20 minutes.”

Leslie waited until she was out of the others’ line-of-sight before she pulled her gloves out of her bag; she may have lied that they were in the car but she was being honest when she said she was cold. She looked around for the meeting point that Stuart had given her, and checked her phone to see it was 23:45; right on time, she saw Stuart a few feet ahead of her. She was eager to go over and kiss him, but she restrained herself and walked a few paces behind him after he signalled where they were going with a tilt of his head.

She followed him off the path, trading carefully as the grass was wet from the afternoon rain, until they eventually got to edge of a small patch of trees. Leslie walked past the treeline to where Stuart was waiting. He took her into his arms and they kissed with days’ worth of pent-up desire.

“It’s a little dark; are you sure it’s safe?” she whispered to Stuart as she held close to him for warmth.

“Well we could go over there and do it under that lamp, if that’s better?”

“Very funny,” she said, as she playfully slapped his chest.

The couple retreated a couple of steps further into the darkness before Stuart pinned Leslie against a tree and soft kisses quickly turned into a full make-out session. It didn’t take long for Stuart’s hands to make their way down to Leslie’s thigh and like a sharp pinch she felt his cold skin against the warmth of her bare upper thighs.

“Eek!” she exclaimed, “Your hands are cold!”

“Yeah, sorry, thought you were wearing tights, I didn’t realise they were stockings.”

“That’s the idea, I got them specifically, they look like leggings,” she paused to kiss him and give him a cheeky smile, “but they give you easy access.”

She pulled off her gloves and took his right hand with both of hers, bringing it close to her lips. She breathed on his hand whilst rubbing it until it felt warm enough for her to direct back between her legs. She held him cautiously, inhaling sharply as his skin, still cold, but not freezing like before, touched her lower lips. She grimaced for a second but the literal heat of her arousal warmed Stuart’s fingers quickly and she relaxed her body against the tree trunk behind her. Leslie closed her eyes and her head lolled as she quietly moaned at Stuart’s touch.

A cold breeze blew her hair across her face and she remembered she was outside, in a public park, minutes from the New Year. She felt a taboo excitement deep in her chest when she heard and saw people in the distance as they made their way to the viewing points. The tingling feeling only got stronger when she thought about how none of them knew there was a teenage boy finger fucking a middle-aged mother just metres away.

Leslie güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri drew close to Stuart’s ear and nibbled it as she whispered, “This is so hot but it’s time to fuck me.”

“Lie down,” he whispered back and nodded towards a flattish looking space between a couple of trees.

“Really? The ground is wet. I’ll get muddy.”

Stuart prodded the ground with his foot before he replied, “It’s not that bad, the trees will have kept it dry.”

Sounding unconvinced by his own words he pulled off his coat and took her by the hand to a place that was a little more out in the open but there it was more grassy than muddy. He threw down his coat and she took the hint to lie on it, pulling her dress up to her waist.

The cold pricked her skin for only as long as it took for Stuart to undo his jeans, free his erection and slide in between her legs. Leslie held Stuart close as he bucked his hips, partly because she enjoyed the feeling of his body against hers but also because her dress was riding up and exposing more skin to the icy air. However, it wasn’t that uncomfortable, if anything, the contrasting temperatures heightened her senses and increased her pleasure.

Stuart’s hands slipped up under her dress and made Leslie gasp as his cold hands pinched her hard nipples. She looked down at Stuart as she felt his tongue against her areola; her skin was so sensitive she thought she could feel every taste bud as he sucked the nub. She watched her hot steamy breath diffused around her as she exhaled deeper and faster.

She could feel an orgasm coming; she closed her eyes and rolled her head back. As she got closer the noise of distant footsteps got closer and a couple of whispered voices suddenly started chuckling.

“Wahay!” came the voice of a presumably drunk guy, maybe around Stuart’s age, as he approached with the palm of his hand out, “Shaggaaa!”

Leslie buried her face in Stuart’s shoulder as both of them were frozen in place.

“Doug, you idiot, leave them alone!” came a girl’s voice to the back drop of a third person’s laughter.

Leslie unhid her face and saw the grinning guy, staring at their naked bodies. She felt dirty, but it felt good.

“Keep going,” she whispered.

Stuart’s eyes widened in surprise as Leslie reached up and slapped the guy’s hand, which had been hovering there for at least ten seconds. He turned it into a strange handshake for a couple of seconds, but Leslie stopped paying attention almost instantly, as Stuart started going again. As Leslie started moaning, the other two people with ‘Doug’ took him away as he gave them another ‘wahay!’

“You’re such a slut,” whispered Stuart.

“I know,” groaned Leslie, not concerned about her volume like Stuart seemed to be.

She started to whimper as she thought about being out in the open with her young boyfriend and she could feel her getting close to coming. She wrapped her boots around Stuart’s back and gripped his hair tightly when fair in the background he could just hear the collective chant of hundreds of voices.

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“ONE!”

Like a perfect analogy, the crescendo of fireworks exploded drowned out the simultaneous moans of Stuart and Leslie.

Through soft gasps, Stuart spoke into Leslie’s ear, “Happy New Year, Slutty MILF.”

“Yes, Bully Boy,” she huffed, “Yes, it is…”

****

“Where were you?!” exclaimed Malcolm, as Leslie emerged through the crowd to see her husband and son.

After they finished together, Leslie had barely spent a minute with her boyfriend, allowing Stuart only a few seconds to grumble that she didn’t need to go back to the ‘dickhead’, taking just enough time to sort her clothes, whilst Stuart brushed wet grass off of his coat.

“I’ve been trying to call you but I couldn’t get through!” yelled Leslie, and flashed her phone at her husband, hoping he wouldn’t notice that the half dozen outbound calls were all made in the past minute.

“Did you miss the show?” asked Lewis, with concern.

“No, I saw it from back there,” replied Leslie, pointing in the general direction of the trees where she had just been with Stuart, hiding a sly smile.

“Doesn’t matter, you’re here now, Happy New Year,” wished Malcolm, as he gave Leslie a quick kiss on the lips.

“Happy New Year, Mum!”

“Happy New Year,” returned Leslie, looking to them both with a smile.

Leslie looked around, wondering if she could glimpse Stuart in the mass of people that were filing out of the park. She felt the sexual fluids between her thighs cooling her skin as the air blew gently under her dress. It reminded her of being exposed on the ground, minutes earlier and she wondered if the group who saw them were still out there too. A little nervous at the idea that they could recognise her if they saw her, she huddled close to her husband.

Lewis, with some apprehension, told them he was going to meet his friends; now that messages güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri were getting through again, he knew where they were. Leslie and Malcolm decided to follow the throng and made their way to the pub that look least packed. Leslie refrained from another drink, reminding Malcolm she had to drive, but he had one more pint before they decided to head back to their car.

They just started walking when Malcolm spoke, “Les, I’ve got missed calls from Lewis, have you? We should call him back.”

“Shit,” murmured Leslie as she saw two missed calls and a message that mentioned Stuart pushing Lewis into the mud.

As Malcolm called their son, Leslie discreetly checked her work phone and saw Whatsapp notifications. She opened the app and checked it hastily, to see something from Stuart gloating about shoving ‘the Dickhead’, before having to stash it away as Malcolm ended the phone call.

“Leslie, we can’t even go to the park to watch fireworks without this little bastard ruining our day.”

“Malcolm! Name calling isn’t going to help!” She exclaimed defensively, but quickly tried to cover the less-than-motherly reaction, “Let’s just wait to hear what Lewis has to say.”

As Malcolm huffed with genuine anger and frustration on his son’s behalf, Leslie focused on the part of her that was on Lewis’s side, trying to engage her maternal instinct and eke out some genuine upset at the situation… or at the very least appear that way.

Lewis turned up a few minutes later, a greeny-brown stain on his coat and trouser leg. Leslie felt sympathy for her son, but it was truly nothing compared to her husband’s fury.

“What the hell happened?!” he demanded.

“I was just walking along to go meet the other guys when I felt a hand here,” he explained, patting his left arm; the clean side of his body, “and then I was pushed hard and I slipped into this muddy patch.”

“And it was Stuart?” asked her husband, gruffly.

“I think so, I’m sure I saw him walking away.”

“Wait,” interjected Leslie, “So you’re not sure it was Stuart?”

“Well, I mean… I’m pretty sure…”

“Lewis…” continued Leslie, dimly aware she was trying to discredit her son’s story when she knew it was true, “Are you sure Stuart is even here? Couldn’t it have been a random drunk person?”

“I suppose… maybe…”

“Leslie! If Lewis says it was Stuart, then we should trust him!”

“Yes, I agree, but he’s not saying it was Stuart, he’s saying he thinks it was Stuart, so I’m asking him how certain he is on that before we go and cry wolf,” sniped Leslie.

Malcolm’s expression softened, but was still on the wrong side of angry, when he replied, “Fine, let’s just go home. Lewis, you can change and then we can drive you to wherever your friends are.”

“It’s fine, Dad,” sighed Lewis, “I’ll just try and meet them tomorrow. I think they’re meeting up for board games.”

The drive home was filled with uncomfortable silence as Malcolm refused to say a word. The trio entered the house and Lewis told his parents he was going to bed. As Malcolm tried to convince him to have another drink with him, presumably hoping to cheer his son up, Leslie snuck upstairs and into the bathroom. She checked her work phone and went straight to Whatsapp.

‘Stuart! Lewis says he thinks he saw you pushing him! You could get in serious trouble.’

Leslie brushed her teeth whilst she waited for Stuart to see the message but it only took him a minute or so to come online and reply.

‘Lol its fine! I kept outta sight. If he said he saw me hes a lying dickhead.’

‘Please baby, be careful.’

‘Fiiiiiine. Reckon you could come meet me for a fuck around midday?’

Leslie thought for a second and realised that fit perfectly with when she planned to pick up Katie. She thought about trying to get Stuart to understand the gravity of the situation but, especially since he probably had a couple of drinks since she last saw him, she thought it would be a waste of time.

Sighing, but also smiling, she texted her reply, ‘Sure xxx look forward to it.’

‘Great start to 2015. Fuck you twice in a day and the dickhead eats the dirt. xx’

‘Glad you’re having fun x.’

*****

Leslie was driving home, her only passenger Lewis, whom she had picked up from one of his friend’s house. Stuart had been disappointed to hear Lewis had made up with his friends; Leslie had told him about it whilst she rode his cock, but he was pleased when he heard how shoving him into the mud had prolonger the reconciliation by a day. He laughed and called Lewis a prick after Leslie gave him the ‘good’ news. Leslie hadn’t in any way tried to chastise his response or scold him for pushing her son; on the contrary, upon hearing how Lewis’s night had been ruined, Stuart started grinding harder into Leslie, something she was keen to encourage, as it felt so good.

‘I couldn’t have done that to the little dickhead without you.’

Stuart’s words echoed güvenilir bahis şirketleri in her head; he moaned that phrase into her hear as they came together. Leslie looked in the rear-view mirror and saw her son; she subdued a building feeling of guilt as she thought about how just 20 minutes before she had been straddling Stuart right where Lewis was now sat; she hadn’t even wiped down the seats. At the time, she hadn’t even felt remorse when Stuart reminded he that she had enabled his bullying by giving him Lewis’s passwords.

Instead, driven by passion alone, she egged him on, “I told the little dickhead not to go see his friends on New Year’s Day, so that it would take longer for them to make up.”

“Really? Why?” panted Stuart.

“Thought you’d like it the longer the dickhead didn’t have any friends. He went anyway… but maybe it’s the thought that counts,” she gasped back.

“Fuck… babe! You did that for me?” he exclaimed.

It wasn’t exactly the truth; she had indeed suggested Lewis didn’t go meet his friends but it was only because Lewis seemed in a bad mood and she thought it might only make things worse, derailing the fragile reconciliation. However, her lie to Stuart had the effect she wanted, Stuart thrusted faster upward into Leslie, and the couple groaned together, spurred on by the concept of Leslie’s betrayal.

She shuddered as he grunted and waited until he had finished filling her wet cunt with his thick sperm before she collapsed limp onto his body. Their sweaty skin stuck together as she lay on his chest, utterly unremorseful that she had just sold her son out again for one more orgasm.

The lights turned green just as guilt began to fill the hole lust had left, and the distraction of having to focus on the road helped her push the well-founded shame to the back of her mind; by the time they had reached home, barely five minutes later, for her to have forgotten it completely and revert to trying to coax her son off his iPhone and into a conversation.

Her husband was at the dining table organising stack of ‘important documents’; a task he did ever couple of months and often Leslie joked to herself that he did it just to appear busy sometimes. Lewis grumbled his acceptance as his dad asked for help and the three of them gathered round the table sorting bills, letters and notices.

“Oh Leslie, you got a package, it’s on the kitchen counter,” said Malcolm, without looking up as he was engrossed in paperwork.

The package was obvious; it was a large box, with an elaborately decorated envelope. A card was in the envelope, and she smiled at the message before opening the box to find an expensive bottle of Brut champagne. She brought it through with a handful of other mail that Malcolm had stashed next to the package.

“This is really nice,” she announced to the room.

Her husband and son looked up with muted enthusiasm.

“Anne sent me a bottle of champagne,” she continued, and Malcolm’s expression turned to one of genuine interest.

“Oh, that is good of her! Does that mean the whole situation is cleared up?” he asked

“Yeah, she wrote me a really nice email yesterday thanking me for my help, saying they confirmed everything as traced back to that guy Kevin and it’s clear she had nothing to do with it. I had no idea she was going to send a gift too!”

“Well you pretty much saved her job, probably even prison.”

Leslie gave Malcolm a half nod, but thought both him and Anne had over-egged Leslie’s involvement. Leslie had noticed a couple of strange procurement requests a few months back and, after a little further digging, she tipped off Anne’s boss, which led the investigation away from Anne and towards Kevin. She was pretty sure the team investigating it would have eventually found out it was Kevin, even without Leslie’s tip-off, but if they hadn’t then Malcolm was probably right. She figured the main reason Anne was so grateful was because her boss was an arsehole, and it took Leslie some persuasion before he listened.

“Prison? What’s this Mum?” queried Lewis, confused at his father’s statement.

“Anne, at my office, I told you about this, remember? She was being investigated for possible fraud.”

“Oh yeah. So that guy you thought set her up, it was actually him?”

“Yeah, total scumbag; got his girlfriend in on a benefit’s scam too. It even got to the news for a couple of days.”

“Ah cool, well nice one, Mum,” replied Lewis, briefly looking at the bottle of champagne before turning back to the post.

‘Nice one? Fuck you, you little dickhead, Stuart thought it was awesome when I showed him the news story and told him I helped get that guy,’ thought Leslie instantly, but as quickly as the thought entered her mind, she felt guilty at calling her son ‘little dickhead’, even if it was just in her own head.

She could not let sex with Stuart interfere with her family life, she thought. She immediately reminded herself that she had given Stuart Lewis’s passwords, and she clarified her thoughts; she couldn’t let it interfere in a way that was obvious to Lewis. She shouldn’t let Lewis feel like his mother has betrayed him; Stuart would have bullied Lewis either way, and this way it wasn’t in a harmful physical way.

“What’s got you so happy?” asked Malcolm to his son.

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