Mandy Makes a Man of Mark

"I'll take this end, you take that end," said Mandy, grabbing her laundry basket and rushing to unpeg the clothes of her and her daughters from the line. "I got up early to do this before work, I don't want all my hard work undone."

Mark went to remove the clothes at this end of the line as Mandy had requested, but stopped like a statue when he saw what was at this end of the line. It was Mandy, Donna and Jodie's underwear, bras and panties in a variety of colors.

His awkwardness seemed to amuse Mandy, who laughed. "Mark, our underwear won't bite you," she assured the uncomfortable young man.

"Are you sure it's okay, I don't know ..." Mark stammered.

"Yes, I don't want them to get wet, otherwise its baggy, saggy panties with worn-out elastic for me and the girls tomorrow," said Mandy.

Nervously, Mark reached up and unpegged a pair of panties from the line, then a bra, followed by more panties which he hurriedly placed in the basket. He could not believe that he was touching the soft cotton of Mandy's panties, and the panties of her pretty teenage daughters who happened to be his classmates. All of Mandy, Donna and Jodie's panties were cotton high-cut brief, or bikini-style panties but of a variety of pastel colors; white, pink, blue, green, lemon, orange, apricot and lilac. Other panties were white with floral print; blue flowers, pink flowers, yellow flowers, and purple flowers. It was impossible to tell the panties of mother and daughters apart but for one thing. Mark noticed on the labels at the back panels that Mandy had used a marker to inscribe an M, a D or a J, so Mark knew which woman's panties he was unpegging from the line.

Mark tried to tell himself that he was just handling cotton fabric and there was nothing interesting or sexy about this, but his mind's eye kept thinking about how the panties with an M on the label spent their days covering Mandy's firm bottom and her private feminine area. It was the same with Donna and Jodie's teen panties; Mark was unable to stop thinking about the 'D' panties and the 'J' panties were pulled up by Donna and Jodie every day, covering the private female areas and shapely bottoms of the pretty blonde and red-haired teenagers.

It was the same with the three women's bras. Each time Mark unpegged a bra he kept thinking about how it encased and supported the firm breasts of either Mandy, Donna or Jodie and it took an effort for his groin not to expand, achieved only by thinking about his mother's posse of fat, prejudiced friends.

Thankfully, Mark soon reached the ordinary clothes and with the rain becoming heavier now, the laundry was rescued from a soaking just in time. Mandy and Mark dashed inside, wiping rain droplets from their faces. "It's Mark to the rescue again," said Mandy. "Thank you Mark. I'll get some towels so we can dry off a little." Mandy dashed into the bathroom and returned with two towels, handing one to Mark.

"Thanks Mandy," said Mark, as he and Mandy dried off a little.

Outside, there was more thunder and lightning and the rain got heavier. "I think you'll be here a while by the sound of that rain out there," said Mandy. She grinned and ruffled his hair at his slightly worried expression, brought on by concern about what his mother would say if she found out. "Don't worry, I won't tell your Mom about it if you don't. I know she doesn't like me."

"I um, just don't think she knows you very well," stammered Mark.

Mandy laughed. "Well, I've said hello to her on many occasions but she's never said anything back to me. But let's not think about that, it wouldn't be very polite of me to make you feel uncomfortable, would it? Come in to the living room, and I'll get us a drink. Is there anything you would like?"

"Um, just some water please Mandy," said Mark.

"You're an adventurous young man, aren't you?" Mandy joked. "I was thinking about something far more interesting." She reached into her refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of white wine, and from a cupboard, two wine glasses. "Have you ever had wine before?"

"Um no, but I'm not supposed to drink alcohol, I'm only eighteen," said Mark. He had drank alcohol before, when he was younger. He and some friends had obtained two bottles of beer and drank them in the woods, but Mark had disliked the taste and could not see what the fuss was about.

"It's strange isn't it?" said Mandy. "You can get married tomorrow and father a child with your wife, but you can't drink alcohol. You could be drafted into the army and off to Vietnam, but you don't get a say in November as to whether we keep President Johnson or elect Mr. Goldwater." Mandy poured herself a glass of wine and held up the bottle to Mark. "Go on, one little glass won't hurt you. Again, I won't tell your mother if you don't."

What Mandy had said about things Mark could and could not do despite being 18-years-old stirred up a feeling of rebelliousness in him and he said, "Yes, thank you Mandy."

"That's the spirit. Just one glass though, I won't let you get drunk," said Mandy as she handed him the glass and they went into the living room. Mandy removed her shoes so she was barefoot, and sat opposite Mark who caught the slightest glimpse of white panties as the older woman crossed her legs and sipped her wine.

Mark also enjoyed the taste of the wine far more than he had the beer and wondered what his mother would think if she could see him now; in Mandy Mathers' house, enjoying a glass of wine with her.

More lightning was visible outside and thunder shook the house. "I look forward to thunderstorms," said Mandy, looking out the window. "It's about the only time my daughters get off the phone. Fear of an electric shock finally drags them away from the telephone."

Mark laughed, remembering how his sister Diane would have long telephone conversations with her friends when she lived at home. "My sister was just like that when she was at school."

"I don't think Donna and Jodie could have coped during the war, when we had to wait to make a call on the party line," said Mandy. "Maybe it's just me, but I'm not big on talking on the phone. I answer calls at work all day, and I was a switchboard operator when I left school, so when I get home I obviously don't want to chat to my sisters or friends on the phone for hours. Teenagers love telephones, though. I can't imagine what things will be like 50 years from now."

More thunder was audible and Mandy again looked out the window. "I may like storms now, but when the girls were little I used to dread thunderstorms, especially at night. Donna and Jodie were absolutely terrified of thunder and lightning, and they used to cry and fret and couldn't sleep. During bad storms, they would get themselves in such a state they would throw up, and George and I would be up with them all night."

"Who's George?" Mark asked.

"My husband. Donna and Jodie's father," said Mandy.

"Your husband?" Mark had never heard Mandy speak of a husband before, nor had Donna and Jodie ever mentioned their father. "I didn't think you were married."

"Well, I'm not married now," said Mandy. "But I was. How do you think I came to have two daughters?"

"Um ..." began Mark, but Mandy smiled and shook her head.

"I know what people say about me around town, I'm not deaf. They think I entertained many different men and had the girls out of marriage, or that if I was married, that I had to get married while I was still a teenager. But that's simply not true."

Mandy got up, Mark again seeing her white panty fabric up her mini-skirt, and walked on her bare feet to a cabinet, where she removed several photographs, bringing them back to Mark. "This is George and I on our wedding day in 1946."

Mark looked at the photograph, with a very young Mandy wearing a white dress standing alongside a handsome young blonde man wearing a US Marines uniform. She looked absolutely beautiful, but so young for a bride. "You look so nice on your wedding day," Mark commented.

"Thank you Mark," said Mandy. "You know, I was about your age when that was taken."

"You were married at eighteen?" Mark asked. He could not imagine getting married so young. However, he now knew how old Mandy was. Thirty six years old, given she had married at the age of eighteen, and this was eighteen years ago. She was exactly double his age.

Mandy nodded. "That's right, I was just a week past my eighteenth birthday when I was married. George and I grew up together, we were childhood sweethearts, the loves of each other's lives and when we married, I thought we would spend our entire lives together. And ten months after we married, along came Donna and Jodie."

Mandy showed Mark another photograph of her standing alongside her husband, heavily pregnant, then another of the young couple holding their newborn babies. Then came a few other photographs of Mandy and George with their daughters as the girls were growing older during the 1950s. "We were so happy as a family," she commented.

They did indeed look very happy, Mark thought as he looked at the photographs. But this left him puzzled. What happened to George, where was he now, and why did his former wife and daughters never speak of him? Mark was curious but did not want to intrude.

Mandy continued. "Then one day four years ago, I get a knock on the door and two police officers are on the doorstep and tell me George won't be coming home that day, or the next day or any other days after that."

Mark was stunned. "Your husband died?"

Mandy nodded. "Yes."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Well, you couldn't have," said Mandy. "I've never mentioned George to you until now, and Donna and Jodie were absolutely devastated when their father died and find it hard to speak of him."

"It must have been very hard for you," Mark sympathized.

"It wasn't easy," said Mandy. "It was a huge shock, my husband gone at such a young age and being widowed at the age of 32, with two 14-year-old daughters to support. I like to think I've done the best I can in the circumstances." She gave Mark a thin smile. "Although even now, I find it hard to think of myself as a widow. When you say widow, you think of the wives who lost their husbands in the war, or older ladies who wear black for years afterwards. George served in the war in 1945 and was perfectly fine, but then fell down dead of a heart attack in the street at 33 years of age despite being fit and in perfect health."

There was one thing Mark did not understand. "You seemed really happy together. Don't you like to remember your husband?"

Mandy shook her head. "People handle grief in many different ways Mark. Take my grandmothers. On my mother's side, when my grandfather passed my grandmother always spoke of him and kept his photographs on display. It was almost like he never died. On my father's side, my grandmother consigned all of his photographs to a box in the attic, gave away all his clothes and possessions and never spoke of him again until she died too. Maybe I'm more like my paternal grandmother? Or maybe things would have been different if George hadn't died so young and so suddenly? But in any case, Donna and Jodie would dissolve into tears at seeing a picture of their father for months after, and while I tried to appear strong, I would break down and cry when alone. Because George and I never got a chance to say goodbye, I would tell myself that I would see him again, that there had just been a terrible mistake and George would turn up at the door one day and everything would be fine. I knew it was ridiculous even as I thought it, but still found myself doing it. So the girls and I thought it might be better to remember George in our own ways but not upset ourselves by having things around that reminded us of him and upset us and move on with our lives as best we could. George and I never really discussed death being so young, but one time George did say to me that if anything did happen to him, his only wish would be for me and our daughters to carry on and be happy in life."

"I'm really sorry Mandy," said Mark. He had never liked the nasty way people spoke of Mandy - especially his mother and her friends - but knowing her true circumstances, it infuriated him that people judged her without knowing all the facts.

Mandy gave him a sad smile. "Thanks Mark. But please don't repeat what I told you to anyone else, not your parents, not to your friends at school nor any other friends of your family or relatives? I like to keep my personal life just that - personal."

Given Mark did not want his mother to find out that he had been in Mandy Mathers' house drinking wine with her, he was not about to say how he had learned this new information about her background. "I promise, I won't say anything."

"Thank you Mark, I know I can rely on you to keep my confidence." Mandy's voice sounded slightly choked, like she was feeling emotional about discussing her past. Mark saw her swallow deeply, then give him a smile. "Anyway, let's not talk about me anymore. Let's talk about you. Are you planning to go to college when you graduate in June?"

"Yes, I really want to get a good education," said Mark.

"It is very important," said Mandy. "I always insist on Donna and Jodie studying hard so they can go to college and have opportunities I never had. I grew up during the Great Depression and during the war as one of six kids, and I had to leave school and go to work at the telephone exchange at the first opportunity so I could earn money for my family. That's just the way it was back then."

Mark continued to talk with Mandy about school and her job at the car yard as they finished the glasses of wine. Outside, the rain continued to pour down. "Well, I think you might be here a bit longer," Mandy commented.

"I think so," said Mark. He was in no hurry to leave. His parents would be away for ages, and he loved sitting here talking with this beautiful woman.

"So, do you have a date for the Homecoming dance Mark?" Mandy asked.

Mark shook his head. "No."

"That's a bit of a surprise," said Mandy. "A nice handsome young man like you should have no trouble finding a date."

Mark blushed at Mandy's praise, but before he could respond he became distracted by something else. During their conversation, Mandy had uncrossed her legs and was now sitting with her knees slightly apart. Her knees were not wide apart, but given that she was wearing such a short skirt, Mark was able to see up her skirt to the white cotton fabric of her panties that covered the most private parts of her body. It was such a beautiful sight and Mark felt his erection rising uncontrollably.

Mandy followed Mark's gaze to her open knees, and then she looked directly at him, a slightly quizzical expression on her pretty face as she closed her knees. Mark felt panic go through his body, his heart racing. He had been having a wonderful time talking to Mandy, and he had blown it by staring up her skirt. Mark cursed himself. "Mandy, I'm sorry I wasn't, I didn't ..."

Mandy got to her bare feet and walked over, sitting on the arm of Mark's chair, and placed her left index finger on his lips. "I see you enjoyed the view there Mark."

"No, I didn't, sorry Mandy, I didn't mean too," Mark stammered, embarrassed and terrified.

Mandy feigned a disappointed look. "You didn't enjoy looking up my skirt and at my panties? That's too bad. I thought you would like it."

"Sorry?" Mark stammered.

Mandy gave him a seductive smile. "Why do think I was sitting like that way? I see the way you look at me, Mark. I know what goes through your mind when you see me. I was born in 1928, and that's not yesterday. And when I look at you, I see one very handsome young man and I know we can have a lot of fun together. A lot of private fun, just the two of us."

Mark was too shocked to speak. His nerves remained, but rather than feeling panic he now felt excitement. Mandy moved her hand to his groin, feeling his erection through his trousers and letting out a cute little laugh. "Even if I had believed you when you said you didn't enjoy looking up my skirt, this would give you away."

Mark's erection grew harder as the older woman massaged the teenager's groin through his trousers and underpants and he managed to say, "It's embarrassing when that happens."

Again, Mandy laughed. "Yes, there's no escape for boys who get over excited, is there? It's so much easier for us girls when we get excited." While still massaging Mark's penis through his clothes, Mandy lowered her face into his and they kissed. It was shallow at first, just on the lips but soon Mandy's tongue found its way into Mark's mouth and they French-kissed deeply for close to a minute, Mark unable to believe that he was actually making out with the stunningly attractive mother of his two very pretty classmates.

Mandy extricated her tongue from Mark's mouth and still stroking his erect penis, smiled and said. "You know Mark, I'm just as excited as you, but looking at me you can't tell. However, when I take you upstairs into my bed and you take down my panties, you're going to see this for yourself."

Mandy jumped to her feet, and took Mark by the hand to lead him up to her bedroom. Mark still couldn't believe what was happening. "We're going up to your bed?"

"Of course," said Mandy. "Where else did you think we're going to have sex? In my car? Out in the garden, in the pouring rain with all the neighbors watching?"

As though in a trance, Mark allowed Mandy to lead him by the hand upstairs and into her bedroom, her mini-skirt bouncing all the way there. Mandy's double bed sure looked inviting, and Mark felt like he might pass out, such was his anticipation as he removed his shoes.

Mark and Mandy, still fully clothed, lay on the bed and as they had done in the living room began to make-out, French-kissing deeply. Mark felt Mandy embrace him, her fingers running up and down his back. He then felt her other hand take hold of one of his hands, and move it to her bottom, Mark feeling his erection throbbing as he caressed the firm cheeks of Mandy's bottom through her mini-skirt and panties, the young man delighted at his fingers touching the elastic of Mandy's panty-lines.

The teenager felt Mandy's slim figure tremble at his touch, and she stopped French-kissing him for a moment to say, "You don't need my permission to put your hand up my skirt, Mark."

Mark wasted no time in sliding his hand under the hem of Mandy's mini-skirt and the young man felt the softness of Mandy's white cotton panties, gliding his hand back and forth along the fabric of the panel that covered Mandy's bottom.

"That feels great, Mark, keep going," his older lover implored him as she moved her hand to his groin.

Mark felt Mandy unfasten and unzip his trousers, and her hand on his groin, fondling his penis through his underpants, before Mandy freed his penis altogether. Mandy took a firm grip on Mark's penis, jerking him off with hard, sensual strokes, one finger on his scrotum, teasing his balls to increase his pleasure. Mark could feel the pleasure running through his body as Mandy continued to give him manual relief, and the teenager worried that he might make a very sticky mess of Mandy's bed if this continued.

Fortunately, before the over-excited teenager could reach orgasm, Mandy withdrew her hand from Mark's groin and said, "It's a bit hot for clothes, don't you think. Let's undress - each other."

Mark wasted no time in getting up, Mandy removing first his socks before Mandy unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, sensually, one button at a time. "Such firm, fit muscles," Mandy commented, running her hands over the teenager's torso, teasing his nipples with soft, sensual fingertips.

Then it was Mark's turn to remove some of Mandy's clothes. He removed the lemon headband from Mandy's long dark hair, then unbuttoned her lemon blouse, one button at a time, before feasting his eyes on Mandy's firm breasts covered in a white bra and at her slim figure.