The Last Flight Chapter 9 - Sex Stories

The Last Flight Chapter 9

... and spends most of her time inebriated!” “Jemima! I am so sorry!” I felt so sad for her. “Don't be sorry. I grew up trying so hard to please my father but I was not the boy he so desperately wanted. He only married my mother because he got her pregnant. My grandfather was a British army officer stationed in India and my father was the son of a very wealthy family, by Indian standards at least. He charmed my mother into bed, she was just nineteen. She fell pregnant and they married to avoid any disgrace..” “You don't have to tell me, Jemima.” I tried to let her know that it didn't matter “I know, but I want to. I want you to know everything about me, warts and all.” I didn't reply but let her continue. “They returned to England after my birth but as I grew up my father became more and more distant. My mother took to drinking and she would bring young men back to the house. I was sent to boarding school and, eventually, my father returned to India. He sent money to support me but that was all. I have not seen him in twenty years.” When she stopped I just held her hand. I had never heard such a story. Without opening her eyes, she continued, as if thinking to herself. “As I grew, I supposed I got used to calling different men 'Uncle.' I had no idea that they were my mothers lovers By the time I was old enough to understand I had become accustomed to it and thought nothing of it. To me, having sex with men was not so much different to sharing coffee or dinner. It was just ...

... something one did if one liked somebody or wanted something. I had never experienced the thing that people call 'love' when having sex. It was just one of those things you do in life.” “Jemima.” I ventured as she paused. “On the flight manifest you were shown as Mrs. Jemima Rana. What about your husband?” “What about him?” she snorted again. “He was a waste of time too. I married him for his money. He was Indian also. You would think I would have learned after my father but no. He wanted me to be the good little wife. Stay at home, organise dinner parties, while he travelled the world sleeping with whoever he wanted. Well, that wasn't me at all, I wanted to be successful and make my own money and whether he liked it or not, that is what I did.” “So how do you make your money?” It didn't really matter to me what she did but I was now curious. "I bought a warehouse and began an import/export business. With Europe rebuilding so quickly I can buy from factories all around the world and make a lot of profit.” “I can follow that.” I said, “So what about your husband?” “I haven't seen him in five years.” she replied. “I buy from his companies but I don't have any contact with him. He makes money, I make money.” I was beginning to understand now why she had behaved as she did when she slipped her hand up my skirt. Her whole life had been one disappointment after another but beneath her sad yet tough exterior I had sensed a woman who just wanted to be loved. “What about you, Karen. Did you ...