All Summer
By Skinnie Stallion
1. End of Term Pick-Up
Cecilia pulled up outside the gates and waited. Other cars were parked inside, along the drive and on the circle in front of the main building. She hung back. She didn't want to embarrass him in front of his friends. What would they think of him being met by a lady in her 50s and not even her early 50s? Although she did wonder how the mums would react to her burgundy PVC pants, and the dads even more so. Best to stay out of sight. Ends of term were difficult enough as it was. End of term before the summer holidays even worse when the boys knew they weren't going to see each other for nearly 2 months. End of their last summer term traumatic: it was possible that they would never see each other again, unless at some crusty reunion in 30 or 40 years time. The full group would probably never all be together. Friendships forged over years parted in a single day. She knew how to settle him. She had a purpose in mind when collecting him from boarding school this final time.
The summer was always going to be a tense, nervous time waiting for his A-Levels. Would he get the university place he wanted? Only time would tell. With his parents still away on a diplomatic posting, she was his honorary 'Grandma'. She was ‘in loco parentis’. She needed to guide him and support him. She didn't want him moping or getting anxious. Not anxious in that way. She knew things about Stephen that his parents hadn't even realised. If he was going to be staying with her, she could help him. He'd probably be far happier and comfortable with himself when he went to university if he spent the summer her way. He'd even have some money in the bank. Money for clothes and other niceties.
She caught sight of him pulling his trunk along the drive, rucksack on his back, hockey stick tucked through the loops. He was out of uniform, already in casuals: a simple white shirt with no tie, a pair of faded blue denim jeans, and brown loafers. Better to let go and leave his schooldays behind. The trunk was clearly heavy as he laboured along, its wheels carving ruts in the gravel. Loaded with uniform, casuals and sports gear as well as books, no doubt, as well as maybe a few ‘extras’. She'd often wondered about Stephen, but it was last Easter that confirmed her suspicions. She'd found the little pouch in his trunk and the birthday card tucked at the bottom. A birthday card with lots of signatures, or rather marks. No-one seemed to want to put their name to a hand drawn card with a crude drawing on the cover with "To Hot Lips. The best lips in the Dorm. Happy Sucking Day" written inside. Hot Lips? Stephen? She might have dismissed it as teasing schoolboy humour except the pouch contained three lipsticks: bright crimson, cerise and pink. No smoke without fire, she thought.
She'd agreed with his parents that Stephen should get a job over the summer. She knew just the place given his latent tendencies. Bergman & Knightley was always offering summer jobs to provide holiday cover. He would make a perfect B&K employee. A new B&K girl.
He was almost at the car. Was he wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he got in? She smiled. She’d find out whether her hunch was current. She’d kiss him when he sat down in the passenger seat. That would be normal, but a kiss on the lips would surprise him. She'd recognise the taste on his lips and on his tongue. Tongue: start how she meant to continue. His lips might be clean, but the taste would linger. Linger in his mouth too. She hoped he was a good boy and swallowed. It was a while since she'd tasted that. His tongue needed to acquire other tastes too: more feminine tastes. There were some things that a boys only boarding school could not educate about. More refined tastes.
2. Trunk Tug
The thought of the next few weeks filled Stephen with dread. It wasn’t even going to be a normal summer holiday. At least they only used to last seven weeks or so. It would be eleven weeks or more before he started at Uni. That’s if he started at all. He was concerned that he’d fluffed his last French paper and messed up his results. If he dropped to below a B, he might not get any of the places he wanted. Heaven knows where Clearing might take him. The prospect of eleven weeks with Grandma was bad enough. Eleven weeks! He’d agreed that he didn’t want to go to whichever of the ‘Stans his parents were stationed in this time. (Why did they invariably get posted to the back of beyond? Had his mother upset someone in the Foreign Office?) Not when he might need to be around for results day, and then for visits and interviews. But staying with Grandma for all that time?! She might be one of mum’s oldest friends and mentors but staying with her was going to be stultifyingly dull.
She was certainly the oldest friend. Positively ancient in Stephen’s eyes. Although the way she dressed was always interesting to say the least. She dressed like she was twenty not seventy or whatever age she was. And she had the figure of a twenty year old to match. Maybe not quite the look of a twenty year old, but she was definitely wearing well for an old lady. She drove like a twenty year old too, except with racing driver precision. He’d never seen the point a Porsche people carrier until he rode with Grandma. But what were they going to do together all summer. It wasn’t as if he could go into town let alone London stuck in a house in the country, nothing within walking distance and no public transport. ‘Quiet and secluded’ was how Grandma described ‘her little house’. ‘The middle of nowhere was how he regarded ‘her bloody big mansion’. They’d just be stuck together, nothing to do nor talk about, getting on each other’s nerves.
Perspiration gathered on his forehead as he reached the school gates. Grandma was parked on the verge like she’d said. Well positioned for a fast getaway. His trunk weighed a ton. Why had he kept all those books? He knew he’d never open most of them again. He should have sold them off to boys in the lower sixth. Too late now. At least there were only a few more yards to go. Better do one last check. He stopped as if to gather breath and wiped the back of his hand across his lips. He examined it for any residual traces. Clean. Good. He swept his tongue around his teeth and over his lips, and then turning his back to Grandma’s car spat. He wiped his mouth again. It had been nice saying goodbye to George. They’d used the laundry store on the top floor. It was dark in the laundry store. One last time, they’d said as they’d gone up together. Gone up like he’d done with quite of few of the boys from his House and year, and many of the prefects. But George had always been his favourite.
3. Home for the Holidays
The journey home had largely been conducted in silence. Stephen was in shock about the way Cecilia had kissed him. She might be a friend, and he still called her Grandma, but Grandmas didn’t normally use tongues when kissing. And why did she insist on playing such God awful music?
Cecilia had a contented smile on her face. She put on Radio 3 as she accelerated off the verge. Her suspicion was confirmed. Her tongue never lied. She could smell it. She could taste it. Smell it on his clothes. Taste it on his lips. Taste it on his tongue. Taste it in his mouth. Smell the aftershave of another on him. Taste the lingering scent of his lipstick. Taste the salty male musk male in his saliva. Stephen had all the potential and preferences that she hoped for.
“Take your trunk upstairs while I put the kettle on,” she said as she pulled up outside the front door. “I’m sure a nice cup of tea would be welcome. I can put the car in the garage later. I’ll meet you in my bedroom in a few minutes since I want to change out of my travelling clothes. I expect you’ll want to get into something more comfortable too.”
Stephen was enchanted by the crackles and creaking sounds as Cecilia raised herself from her driver’s seat. ‘What fabulous pants,’ he thought and ‘How does she manage to drive in those heels?’ he pondered before replying, “Yes, Grandma, but I’m fine in these.”
“We may have to discuss that,” replied Cecilia curtly across the roof of the Porsche. “See you in five. You can start unpacking.” She strode towards the front door while Stephen prepared to manhandle his trunk from the boot. He was distracted by the shapely wiggle of her bottom and the march of her 5” Louboutins.
…..
Stephen sat on his bed waiting. Five minutes turned into ten. He could hear Cecilia talking on the phone on the downstairs though couldn’t make out what was being said. Finally he heard her footsteps on the stairs and moved to the door. “Come,” she said as she swept past him towards her bedroom. “Welcome to my boudoir,” she said as he followed her in. He was overwhelmed by pink. Pink curtains, pink wallpaper, pink furniture.
She turned to him. “Well done darling. School’s over. You’re about to start a new chapter. I spoke to Emma and Simon this morning and they’re really pleased with how you’ve been doing this year. I’m sure they’ve said the same to you.”
“Yes, Grandma,” said Stephen. “Sort of”. Calls with his parents were always business-like and to the point, as if they had little time to spare.
“They’re very happy that you’re spending the summer with me, and they agree that you need to get a job to keep you occupied. I can’t have you rattling round the house with me all the time.”
Stephen brightened, this was the first good news he’d had since saying goodbye to George,. That moment when George had said he loved him. He was tempted to lick his lips and swallow to see if he could still taste George’s kiss and more but thought better of it. “Where, Grandma? There’s nowhere near here, unless you think I’m going to work on a farm.”
“No, darling, not a farm. In town.”
Darling? She’d never called him darling before. “But town’s miles away. How’s that going to work?”
“Don't be silly, darling. I’ll drive you. It’s the least I can do.”
“OK. But where am I going to find work in town?”
“No worries, darling. It’s all sorted. I’ve just been on the phone to your new employer, and they want you to come in tomorrow.”
“But tomorrow’s Friday.”
“Yes, and you can start then or next week. It all depends on whether they’ve got a uniform that fits you.”
“Uniform? I’m not joining the Army, am I?”
“No darling, you’ll be joining a company. They’re called Bergman and Knightley.”
“Aren’t they the store in town?”
“Yes, darling. How clever of you to know that. They do lovely clothes. I get a lot of my clothes there. Make-up too. And lipsticks. Nice red and pink lipsticks.” She looked at him hard. Their eyes met. In that moment, Stephen knew she knew. “Hot shades for hot lips,” she added.
A wave of confused emotion hit Stephen. Terror at being discovered. Concern about his parents finding out. Fear of being exposed. At least he couldn't get expelled which is what had happened to the previous tart in his Boarding House. “Oh, Grandma, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Whatever is there to be sorry about?” replied Cecilia nonchalantly, but quietly amused by the young man’s distress. “Nobody’s been hurt. I guess your friends enjoyed your ‘services’. You’re not at school now. You’re an adult. You can make your own choices. With a little guidance, of course.” She gave him a wink and put her hand on his shoulder.
“Yes, Grandma.”
“Bergman and Knightley, or B and K as they call it, will be perfect for you. But you will need to wear their staff uniform.”
“Uniform? For an office job. Don’t they want me in the accounts office or shipping? Something clerical.”
“Oh, no, darling. Not clerical. I’ve said you’ll be on the shopfloor. They always need extra sales staff during the summer months.”
“The shopfloor?!”
“Yes, darling. You’ll fit in perfectly, especially when you’ve been fitted with your B&K uniform.”
“But aren’t they all girls, on the shopfloor.”
“Yes, dear. Well, at least they all look like girls. You’ll be joining them. Now run along back to your bedroom. I want you to put all your bags in the cupboard and bring me the key. You will not be needing any of your clothes this Summer, Stephen.”
“Yes, Grandma.”
“But keep your lipsticks out. Then, come back here. I’d like to see what shades work best on you. You do have very kissable lips, Stephen. I may let you try some of mine too. And then you can change into something appropriate for a new B&K employee. I’m sure there are things in my wardrobe that would fit you. We can start with lingerie. You can help me change too, but not before you learn that there are other tastes to savour. Tastes even better than some of your friends.” Stephen blushed: she didn’t just know, she knew everything. “Exquisitely feminine tastes which I want you to get much more intimately acquainted with while you stay with me this summer. I assume you’ve never tasted female before, not at an all-boys school.”
“No, Grandma, though some of the guys did have a crush on the school nurse.”
“You included?”
“Er, yes,” Stephen acknowledged.
“Well now is going to be your chance to make amends. Hurry back soon with the cupboard keys and your lipsticks, darling. We have so much to do together before we have that nice cup of tea.”
Stephen rushed back to his bedroom. Perhaps staying with Grandma wasn’t going to be so bad after all. As he ran, he heard her call after him, “Darling, have you ever tried wearing heels?”
If you would like to see more of the Bergman/Knightley world. Pop on over the Patreon.
I came across a fun free app the other day, which chances clothing on pictures, so naturally I had to play.
I chose an image of the gorgeous Sally Nugent in that blue suede like biker jacket and made it as we have always dreamed. It's a kinda fun app.
Now that very sweet caption from Deviant art. It has a certain AndyVerse glow to it. Whether intentional or not. I love it.
