The Old Woman

My college life began again in March. If you don't know much about university life, it's like this: rich men marry beautiful women and their daughters are usually beauties too, and end up at uni. And these beautiful daughters go on to earn heaps of money themselves and send their own daughters to uni. So basically, uni offers young, blinding female beauty wherever you look. Evelyn gave me head every single morning before I went in to campus. That sated me for the morning but I was 19, remember, and by afternoon if not before I was fully recharged. Smooth girl faces, smooth long thighs.

Evelyn would phone me several times through the day wanting details about each girl I met. She also did a lot of hot and heavy talk about my erogenous zones and how she intended to take me right to the balls, and that she was better than any pretty little bitch on campus. Nobody would have believed even half of what she said. I loved it, and sometimes in fact I phoned her, because as yet I had no-one else. But a few guys from my old school went to this uni as well and one of them got me into a big, ready-made bunch of friends. By May I was one of the gang.

Long story short, I met Tess. She lived in a student place near campus. Soon we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Sex was simple, no-frills missionary, but her thighs were a revelation, her ass perfection, the sensation was sublime as she thrilled gently to my kisses on her breasts. But her touches on me felt crude and amateurish -- when trying to give me oral she couldn't keep her teeth out of the way; as soon as I could I brought the attention back on her smooth young skin. "You're not the average guy" she told me and that was true enough I guess.

I told my mother about Tess, knowing she'd go down well: a sensible girl with prospects, not a weird old bag. It worked a bit too well: my mother soon made a friend of Tess's, in that calculating and controlling way she had.

Evelyn knew something was up. I decided it was best to tell her, as casually I could, about Tess. She received the news silently. But then later that evening, "I hate her," she said. "I cannot tell you how much I hate her." That was the night she finally managed to take me balls deep.

But Tess herself soon gave me trouble. "You're not really there," she began to complain. "Where are you?" A pause. "Is there someone else?"

Into this increasingly delicate situation came a quite major complication, which requires some back story. I was studying Arts/Law. My mother despised the Arts part, wanting me to be a hot shot lawyer. A distant relative of ours was a judge; my mother cultivated him and his wife as best she could. She waged a long-term, desperate and pretty pathetic campaign to bring us socially closer to this upmarket couple, and she fed off any crumb of attention that they threw our way.

Well, it so happened that judge and wifey lived in a rich suburb adjacent to my uni, and lo and behold they offered to let me mind their luxury house rent-free for a whole year, while they were overseas. This news came to me via my Mum. Naturally she was hyped to the max. She'd already passed the news on to Tess's mother, she told me delightedly; Tess would be over the moon, she declared. I could move in within the month!

I told Evelyn who immediately looked into my eyes and took my cock in her hands, as though to physically hold me just where I was. She needn't have worried. I kissed her forehead. She responded by sinking to her knees, enduring whatever pain that gave her while she gave me pure pleasure.

Refusing the judge's offer was a tricky business. The only lame excuse I could find was that Evelyn's house was a quieter place to study. No-one bought that, least of all Tess. No -- least of all my mother.

Tess went back to her old boyfriend. The judge and his wife intimated that I seemed quite a strange young fellow. My mother told me in a rage that she felt like disowning me.

But meanwhile she visited Evelyn, to ask if she knew why her son might be passing up such a precious opportunity. When that got her nowhere, she launched a campaign of harassment against the old woman: mainly through constant phone calls threatening vague but dire consequences to Evelyn if she didn't force me to move out on the spot. In essence, my mother really lost it for a couple of weeks.

One day my mother called me when I was at uni and demanded to meet me at the family home; it couldn't wait, she said; I was to be there at 3pm that afternoon. It could not be anything good, I decided. I got there at 3.10.

My mother was in the lounge room. A lawyer was sitting there with her -- a solicitor, as they were called back then. He was a friend of the family (actually an old flame of my Mum -- younger than her and handsome in a heavy, meaty kind of way). He smiled at me. But a smile from a lawyer can mean anything, and his clean sharp suit intimidated me. Meanwhile my mother's eyes remained fixed on me.

"I'm here about your -- your landlady Evelyn Talbot," he told me.

My mother burst into cold laughter.

So this was it.

How had they found out? That didn't matter now... I had done nothing wrong, I kept telling myself. Evelyn and I were two consenting adults. Evelyn was in her right mind -- wasn't she?

"Have a look at these papers," the lawyer told me. "They relate to the psychological condition of Mrs Talbot."

"Sit down," my mother told me, and I did.

I took the papers from him with a trembling hand. They were official-looking letters. Two different letterheads: that was all I could take in.

"Just tell him, Peter," my mother said.

"Oh, the old thing's fine!" He smiled more broadly now, though with a huge question mark on his face. "Mrs Talbot has taken the trouble to have not one but two psychological assessments done on herself. To prove that she is of sound mind. She passed both tests with flying colours."

I turned and looked carefully at my mother. Some strong feeling was hidden just below the surface.

"You see," the lawyer went on, "it was Mrs Talbot's way of defending her Will and Testament from challenge by relatives or other parties."

"She has left her house to you in her Will," my mother said. "O yes, I have all this from the lady herself, she sent the paperwork to me -- to get me off her back, no doubt."

"Her house is in a good area," the lawyer said, "and prices are rising even as we speak and will soon go through the roof." He shook his head. "House, contents, plus one hundred and ninety thousand dollars. All she has goes to you." He laughed. My mother didn't.

"Well well," she said, still fixed on me, her face relaxing into a mixture of admiration and contempt, "you've certainly played her for a fool. Her -- and the rest of us. Which old biddy is next in line? You might try my mahjong club." I didn't know what to say. "How did you do it? Just sweet talk? Checkers and chess? How? It's not like you did any of the handyman work you were meant to."

Thank you Evelyn I whispered, and I wasn't thinking of the money stuff, which at my age didn't mean that much to me. I was just so glad she'd saved me from my mother's wrath.

"The paperwork came with an envelope marked to you," the lawyer said, handing it over. I flipped it over: sealed. "We haven't steamed it," my mother added. I tucked it away.

I opened it at the bus stop on the way back to Evelyn's. It contained a single sheet with a rough drawing of a female figure in a black dress lying down, hair spread out in all directions. A man twice her size sat on her face and had his erection held at base and head in her skinny hands, reaching up from below. Under the picture, the single word Love.