The find

EP1 The find

Pulling the string around my neck I withdraw the key from inside my school shirt and leaning close to the door, rather than removing the loop over my head, unlocked it.

Automatically walking across the room to turn on the TV, the screen filled with the primary coloured set of a children’s pop quiz show and the room with the braying of the host.

I threw my jacket on the sofa and entering the small kitchen absently checked the fridge for food.

Nothing, at least nothing I wanted.

Since moving up to the ‘big school’ at the age of eleven the previous term I had become what the papers insisted on referring to as a ‘latch key kid’, a scourge of society if the reports were to be believed.

However, the reality for me was that the couple of hours spent alone in the house after school and before the return of my parents were simply rather dull.

Sometimes these would be enlivened by a visit from a friend, Mick, my ‘best friend’; however, mostly they were spent attempting to keep myself amused.

As part of such an attempt I wandered the house seeking inspiration for something to do, apathetically opening doors and cupboards, eventually unearthing a number of Laurel and Hardy super 8 cine films at the bottom of my parent’s wardrobe.

Despite the effort required to set up the equipment I decided to do so.

As I withdraw two of the boxed reels from their resting place, I noticed another reel box, this one unmarked probably a record of a holiday outing.

As an afterthought I picked this up and added to the others on the bed.

I glanced at the bedside clock and reconsidered my decision was it worth the effort?

With an hour and a half left to kill, I concluded, yes.

After perhaps twenty minutes I had successfully set up the projector on my bedroom floor, the curtains tightly drawn, my intent being to project the image onto my wall rather than go to the trouble of setting up the screen.

Carefully I threaded a film onto the spool, pressed the switch and a small piece of my wall threw back familiar black and white images.

The only sound the whir of the film spool and the fan of the projector.

The film ran its short course and the wall displayed simply a block of white light.

In the semi darkness I slid the reel of film from the unmarked box and replaced the finished short with it.

Carefully I replaced the completed reel it in its box, before pressing the switch to run the new film.

My ‘screen’ filled with a grainy colour image of my mother seated on our sofa dressed only in underwear, a shock of excitement ran through stomach as at some unseen instruction she stood. The camera failing initially to keep pace quickly recaptured her. Glancing uncertainly at the camera she reached behind herself and unfastened her bra, she continued to hold this in place covering her breast with crossed arms until once again at what appeared to be an instruction she let it slide down her arms and fall to the floor.

Exposing well shaped breast and large brown nipples, I realised that my breathing was coming in shallow gasps and consciously inhaled deeply trying to gain at least a little control on my excitement.

The familiar room and furnishings continued to contrast sharply with the alien scene that played out, as leaning forward my mother removed her panties placing a steadying hand on the back of the sofa as she stepped free of them to stand now naked save for tan stockings and a white suspender belt.

Absently I realised I was masturbating.

The intensity of this increased as my mother sat on the sofa and somewhat reluctantly opened her legs exposed her vagina to my rapacious gaze.

At this sight I reached orgasm intensely and copiously.

Still breathing heavily though a little calmer after my release I watched as the film continued. My mother regained her feet and turning bent over allowing the camera to zoom in on her exposed buttocks and the enticing crevice between.

The ‘screen’ than went blank I glanced at the projector and was relieved to see that the reel hadn’t finished I looked back at the wall willing an image to appear. I was rewarded within a few seconds.

This time the scene was set in my parent’s bedroom I watched enthralled as my mother wearing her red dress pulled up her hem to expose black stockings and suspenders, and being without panties, her vagina.

Again at what appeared to be an instruction she turned and hoisting her dress around her waist bent over the bed.

After a few seconds this image was replaced by one of my mother standing in front of the dressing table wearing black stockings and suspenders, black lace panties and a black corset.

Leaning forward slightly she pushed her panties down her thighs exposing the fascinating fissure of her cleavage as she did so.

The camera now followed her as she walked to the bed, her buttocks moving rhythmically as she did so and lay face down.

Again the image disappeared and to my disappointment was not replaced.

As soon as I realised I’d seen all there was I immediately began to rewind the reel in order that I could watch again.

However, even as I did so I realised that time was now short, if I were to ‘cover my tracks’ that is replace everything where I had found it before the arrival of my mother.

My renewed erection called to be relieved as I carried the projector to its pre use position and carefully replaced the film boxes in the wardrobe. The call became irresistible as my gaze fell on my mothers red dress and recalled the images on film. Quickly stepping to the bathroom I answered that call

That immediate need satisfied I double checked that I had left no sign of my activities and satisfied returned down stairs.

The rest of the evening past normally and uneventfully save for the images that I replayed in my mind.

The next day following a rapid journey home I once again set up the projector and lost myself in the images of my mother.

By the third day I had an idea that appealed to me, to show Mick the film, to share the experience with my friend.

He eagerly took the chance of seeing my mother in her underwear, we were quite open with each other and Mick had often described the scenarios he used in masturbation involving my mother.

His reaction to the ‘show’ was as mine had been and indeed showing him the film intensified my own pleasure in watching it.

He also came with appealing idea of his own, “My mums got a Polaroid camera, and we could take photos of the film from off the wall”

This we did.

The film itself ‘disappeared’ a few days later, and despite intensive searching it would be years before it was ‘rediscovered’

However, it would not be so long before my mother would provide me unknowingly with sexual gratification


To be continued