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There was one last thing, one last taboo that we never quite got round to. Of course the risk of pregnancy was the big fear, the show stopper. If I got pregnant by Charlie then that would lead to all sorts of problems. And then, there I was down at Tescos and, somehow, when I got to the check out, there, in my shopping basket, was a pack of condoms.I went home and put the shopping away. Charlie was sat in the lounge with his feet up. He was, as ever, wearing a tracksuit. He still couldn't cope with anything with a zip fly but getting dressed in a tracksuit and slobbing out in the lounge had become second nature to him. I took the condoms upstairs and put them in my bedside cabinet. I was still conflicted. Did I really want to use them? Well, of course, that itch between my legs that never seemed to go away nowadays was gagging for it and it seemed stupid to be squeamish after everything else we'd done but somehow having Charlie's prick in my pussy, going that last step, something. Of course, I would have hired her on looks alone, the chance to see her made Wednesdays when she sat for us wonderful. She was tall and slender, with youthful modest breasts and gentle curves. But she had long, full, lush red hair that perfectly offset her creamy, freckled complexion. And she had a way of moving, deliberate and coordinated as if she was swimming through the world with her toned beautiful body. It was easy to look at someone so young, so beautiful, so uncomplicated, and fantasize about the raw pleasures of being with her. Of course, nothing’s simple, and so I contented myself with the opportunity to see her when she arrived for a few minutes each week. My wife and I would leave her with our baby son, and my wife would drop me off on her way to work. One gorgeous hot day in late spring, Jill arrived in a stunning outfit that I could only glance at as I walked out the door: short white cutoff shorts and a sheer top that showed a white bikini top underneath. She.
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