War Time - Sex Stories

War Time

... got inside the cottage I was surprised to find it so warm. Mother had a blazing fire going which was unusual given the way we had to eke out our coal to make it last. In addition all four gas jets were burning on the stove boiling water in a kettle and saucepans. Mother had undergone a change; from being depressed and agitated she seemed to be euphoric. Dressed only in her woolen dressing gown (bought at Marks and Spencers before the war), her eyes were bright and alive. I'd only eaten two cheese rolls that day, bought at what passed for the works canteen, and I was starving. Normally we ate soon after I arrived home, but mother said, "Bath darling bath," and commenced pouring the hot water into the uncovered bath. "But mum," I said, "the pipe was frozen this morning, so how..." "Old Mr. Vick unfroze if for me," she said, "now get on with your bath." I expected her to leave while I got undressed but she stayed and openly watched me. Once I was in the bath mother started heating something on the stove; it smelt delicious. "What's that?" I asked. "Ah," mother said, "something special; rabbit stew, it already cooked and only needs heating." Rabbit, an off ration luxury and rarely obtainable! "How did you..." I began, but mother interrupted, "Came in at the butchers today, I had to queue for over and hour to get it." Queuing was a common feature of shopping in those days; in fact so much so that people who saw a queue simply joined it find out what was being sold because it ...

... had to be something rarely obtainable. "You queued in this weather?" I said. "I hardly noticed," she replied, "and in any case it was very fortunate because we've only got some corned beef left from our meat ration. Now hurry up and we can eat." When I went to get out of the bath mother came to me with a towel she'd been warming in front of the bath and started to dry me. Being dried by someone else was a luxury I hadn't experienced since I was a little k**, and it's especially pleasant when the drier is a woman and she spends a lot of time working on your penis. Mother then produced my father's dressing gown (also bought at Marks and Spencers pre-war), and helped me into it. The stew was served up and we ate it in silence sitting in front of the fire in the living room. It was the warmest I'd felt for a long time, and mother's manipulation of my penis while drying me had given me an erection. The only worry I had was the coal we were burning. "Aren't we using a lot of coal, mum?" I asked. "A special occasion," mother replied, "and Mr. Pitt the ironmonger got some small bags of coke in (not the d**g or the drink), so I bought one of those to stretch out the coal." "You've been busy today," I commented. She smiled and said a trifle ambiguously, "It's a special day and I think it'll been worth it for both of us." We finished eating and then sat on the rug in front of the fire and mother asked, "Last night darling, you didn't mind?" "No...no...but father..." "Darling, he mustn't ...