Rachel's Music Lesson Part 1 of 2 - Sex Stories

Rachel's Music Lesson Part 1 of 2

... next month.’

‘Uhuh.’ She replied indifferently.

‘France, a little cottage. Far away from anywhere. Just the two of us.’ I continued.

‘Mmm, she’ll enjoy that.’ It was obvious by her tone what she meant by “that”. It was another of her reminders that we were once lovers and of what she had most valued in me. And what she had become bored of; and a reminder of my desperate pleas; and of her scorn. And of my now dependent position.

‘Is that it?’ she signalled to the window. ‘Oh, tell them to come to the door. I don’t want to get damp everywhere.’ I looked out onto the parking area. the driver was already unfurling his umbrella. Mrs. Barton came close as if to hug me. I flinched away but not before smelling the wine on her breath. ‘Sorry darling, force of habit.’ She giggled. ‘Oh, here she is.’

I turned to see Rachel move into the hall to greet me. In the past she has bounced into the hall or she had grumpily sulked into the hall or she had giggled and run to hug me when we on good terms. But today, after she had spent six weeks with her cousins on her grandparents’ estate, she “moved” into the hall. The form and the figure were all there as it was, being a more rounded, even overdeveloped version of her large breasted mother. But what was new was a confidence, one that I hoped would lead to better behaviour.

‘Hello Mr. Richards.’

‘Now, be a good girl Rachel, you’ve got John…Mr. Richards for three hours today, OK? I don’t want to hear about your misbehaving ...

... when I get back.’ Rachel put her head to one side and looked at her mother as though she was being talked down to, which she was. ’Oh, you are full of yourself now aren’t you. Give you a bit of freedom and…. Well, I suppose I hope it lasts. Is the little man here, oh yes. OK, I’ll be back at six, or maybe later, see you later little one. Bye.’

‘Bye Mummy!’ replied Rachel.

I looked out of the window to see Mrs. Barton escorted to the taxi by a compliant, and what would ultimately be a well-rewarded, temporary chauffeur. Eventually the car disappeared behind trees on the drive.

‘Oh, I’m so glad you are here Mr. Richards. I want to tell you all about my lovely, lovely holiday.’ Began Rachel.

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In the music room I soon found that Rachel had not undergone a Pygmalion type of transformation. She was still as sly, indiscreet and manipulative as ever. However, she did have a knowingness about those girlish actions that hitherto had charming innocence. It was a wet, early autumn day and not a warm one, but Rachel had dispensed with her usual childlike long stockings, a fact seemingly unnoticed by her mother. My eyes must have glanced in that direction. ‘Oh, they were so uncomfortable, especially now I’m shaving my legs. Like Deborah, she shaves her legs, and Annie wanted to try so we asked Deborah and she said, don’t be silly, but Mike thought it was a good idea. Then, Debby said OK, so we did. Do you like them?’

‘Well, Rachel I ...