Sex my downfall
Fifty-four years old, I should have had more sense — the monthly bleeds stopped and three months later I stopped taking the pill, after all after menopause I did not need contraception. Sex has always been a big part of my life, at school I collected boys cherries, at sixteen I was pregnant. By my twenty first birthday I had three daughters and a son. People in town, including the boys I’d been with called me a slag — I thought it was all unfair, I was merely blessed with a high sex-drive.
By the age of twenty-one I had those four children, my future looked bleak — a life on welfare! I realised I had to make changes, one was to use contraception — saying “NO” was not part of my vocabulary. The other change was to get a career. I went to college, got the qualifications I needed then onto University — there I studied law. After University followed by three years in a law office I began earning my living writing, – writing this is a form of relaxation, a break from the daily grind — a busman’s holiday.
To return to the subject, about eight months after the “menopause”, I noticed I was putting on weight, my breasts were getting tender and maybe something was growing inside me. I went to the doctor almost convinced I had cancer. After an examination and a scan I was told I was five months pregnant. “Pregnant!” I exclaimed, “I cannot be! I’ve stopped bleeding its the menopause.”
My doctor laughed, “We often hear that, if you had come to see me I would have told you, contraception for two years after your last bleed.” Three months ago, as soon as I gave birth I resumed taking the pill, I reckon I’ll be taking it until either I am too old for sex or I am going in my box — probably the latter
“I don’t want a child.” I almost stamped my feet like a petulant teenager — I was entitled to act this way, as obviously my body thought it was still a teenager.
“I am sorry it is a bit late for that,” said my doctor — I am sure the bitch was laughing at me. They are so young today, this one looks younger than my daughters, she could probably date my grandson Gussie real name Augustus — his mother my daughter Saffron, is into Roman history, or was when he was born, her daughter is called Juliana.
Jules and Gussie, Nineteen and eighteen respectively! Jules in her second year at University Gussie about to start his first year. They were another complication, they both live with me, to save money and avoid the complications of their mother Saffron’s chaotic personal life. My life had been stable, until this unforeseen child, my fifth, my fourth girl. It frightens me that I will have turned seventy before she leaves school, eighty before she graduates from university.
It was mid summer, the festival was on, both Jules and Gussie were out, any other year too would have been out enjoying the Edinburgh Festival atmosphere. I was in the kitchen nursing my new daughter Joanna. I didn’t hear anyone come into the house, suddenly the door opened Wayne, Gussie’s friend, with Gussie following burst into the room. “Hey gran in the Grassmarket we saw ….” Gussie’s voice faded mid sentence as he saw me, my shirt wide open, nursing bra undone revealing my breasts. Wayne was literally mesmerised, his eyes standing out like organ stops, his mouth hanging open — the boy was almost drooling.
I am used to men looking at my breasts, it has happened all of my life, even when I was not nursing, they were large. Right now I am five foot two, tall and have a forty inch double F bust. My breasts developed from about twelve, at school boys loved them and girls hated me for having breasts. After that all men were fascinated by them — women were jealous of them — especially if it is their man who is ogling them.
“Wayne if you don’t shut your mouth a bus will park in there.” I said.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to stare.” Wayne mumbled not taking his eyes from me.
“Both of you get out — Now.” I was angry I felt my space had been invaded, that charging around with his mates Gussie was not respecting my privacy at this moment I regretted allowing my grand-children stay with me.
I still did not have the house to myself, Wayne and Gussie had gone to his room. Somehow or other through his friendship with Juliana and with Gussie, Wayne had become something of a fixture in my house — an unofficial lodger — a member of the extended family. Suddenly there was a stillness in the house, Wayne’s voice carried with crystal clarity as if he were in the same room. “Gus yer Gran’s tits are ginormous! They are magnificent. Yes Magnificent Mammaries! Tremendous Tits!” He said playing with the alliteration.
“Give over Wayne, that’s my Gran your talking about.”
“She maybe yer granny she could be the Queen o’ Sheba! All I ken is she is the woman with the greatest tits I have seen. How I envied that baby getting so close to her tit. I’d give anything to get off with your Gran.” Whenever Wayne gets excited his Leith accent becomes more pronounced.
I felt a warm glow in my abdomen and I am sure I was getting wet. A young man like Wayne fancying an old lady like me — behave yourself I thought — your old enough to be his granny, then I remembered meeting his grandmother — she is a woman of my own age, give or take a year.
“Dream on Wayne your not going to get off with my Gran.”
Eventually the baby finished feeding, I burped her and put her to bed. The boys were playing music in Gussie’s room, I paused to tell them to quieten down. “Oh man,” I heard Wayne say. “I’m telling you after seeing your gran’s boobies I’ll be wanking myself silly.”
“Your daft Wayne, she is too old for you.”
“Who says, I bet she still goes like a bunny rabbit. That Richard looks like he staggers out on his knees.”
I smiled at Wayne’s choice of words. Richard my sometime lover, father of my baby, married to another woman did appear to lack energy. Since the baby was born he had become disinterested in sex — well sex with me. Once we had screwed since the baby was born, then Richard seemed more concerned as to whether or not I intended to pursue him for maintenance for Joanna. What would his wife say if she found out. To be honest until that moment I had not considered these matters, after his perfunctory poking my pussy whilst whining about these matters I decided to make him pay!
“You can’t talk labout gran like that.
“Why not, why can’t I fancy her. Man she is like a part of my fantasy I would love to tit fuck her great big milky tits. I’d love to suckle on them.”
“Quieten down don’t wake the baby.” I said at the door of Gussie’s room.
My breasts felt heavy and still ached, the baby was not using all the milk I produced. I went into the bathroom leaned over the sink and began to express the milk. I have always had this problem, producing too much milk. One of the men in my life said it only went to prove I was a regular cow. With my first children I used to donate the surplus to the local hospital for babies whose mothers did not produce enough, but this time they said I was too old and the milk would be poor quality.
To be honest I feel good when I am lactating. When had my first group of children I was continuously lactating for years. My last daughter, the last one before Joanna I suckled until she was nine. I have this theory that drying up lactation early contributes to Breast Cancer, no science to it as such — it is a theory based o observing my acquaintances.
My breasts empty I poured myself a glass of wine, should I veg out watching television or should I go to my study and do some work — vegging out won the day. I know I shouldn’t drink while breast-feeding, because it might affect the baby. I must have some relaxation and it is red wine — which is good for the heart! I felt so good that I treated myself to a second glass — if it does get to the child Joanna will sleep well.