Monday, 13 May 2013

An Antidote To Writers Block (Part 73) Funeral for a Friend

The morning after Anne and I made love I woke early to find the bed beside me empty.
Anne had left my bed sometime during the early morning but I didn’t notice her go.
I got up about 8 o’clock and found Anne in the kitchen making drinks
“Morning” she said “Coffee?”
“Yes please” I replied and the conversation remained at that mundane manner and we never spoke of what happened a few hours earlier.

Claire came to the house about nine and hugged me.
“How are you doing?” she asked, knowing how fond I had become of Katy.
“I’m fine” I replied
Then she repeated the exercise with Anne and the ambulance came for Katy’s body about twenty minutes after that.
The rest of the day went by in a kind of blur and I still don’t really remember a thing that happened.

On Tuesday, Olivia came to the house for the reading of the will and the planning of the funeral, not that Katy left much to plan.
And as part of the plans Katy had wisely made Olivia the executor of the will and because of her obvious organizational skills had asked her to implement the funeral arrangements.

Apart from myself and Anne, Dr Claire Andrews. The Vicar Robert Hunter, Robert’s fiancé Tilly and my cousin Molly were all in attendance.
There wasn’t much to speak of in her will she hardly had a vast estate to bequeath.
To Claire she left her, her gold crucifix, for Robert her collection of books, to Tilly she left her a Celtic bracelet (Tilly often admired it) and to Molly her gold wrist watch, (to help with her time keeping).
All her clothes and the other meagre possession she left to the church to be disposed of as they saw fit and the residue of her estate was to be divided equally between her sisters.
And to me she left her, her bible inscribed:
To Simon
“A good book for a good man”
With love Katy
I had to excuse myself.

When I returned we discussed the funeral which was to be a simple one with Claire and Judith Hunt doing the readings, Katy’s choice of hymns were Amazing Grace, Abide With Me and The Lord My Shepard and the eulogy was to be read by me, when I had written it.
The date for the funeral was set for Tuesday the 7th of May.

During the course of the week Anne and I worked closely with Olivia with the arrangements.
Which we didn’t need to be involved in but Olivia involved us with all the minutiae because it kept our minds occupied.

On the Friday the medical supply company picked up the bed and such, which made the house, feel even emptier.
It was akin to that feeling after the Christmas decorations come down in January.

Over the Bank Holiday weekend Georgia was working everyday so I only got to see her in the evenings so during the day Anne and I spent quite a lot of time sorting through Katy’s things.
Not a pleasant task by any means so I have to say that when the day of the funeral came it was greeted by us both with some relief.
Olivia had been a rock and her hand on the tiller had steered proceedings to perfection.
Warm weather was evidence on the day of the funeral and such was Katy’s popularity that everyone wanted to pay their respects, however seating in the church was quite inadequate for the numbers wanting to attend.
Tilly and Tristan, being in the sound business, had their company rig a sound system outside the church for the many people unable to get inside.
St Lucy’s was packed to the gunwales and it seemed like the whole village had turned out to say goodbye,
The village green and every available inch of verge and lane held the throng of mourners.
The service was a very moving one presided over jointly by the new vicar Robert Hunter and the Bishop.
When it came to the moment for the eulogy I rose from my pew where Georgia had been holding my hand and walked slowly to the lectern.
I stood and looked out at the sea of faces watching me and suddenly I was afraid, but then I felt a calming presence with me.
“Katy Oliver was a good person,” I began “but then that was the very least you expected her to be, but she was so much more than that”
I paused and took a breath
“She possessed a demeanour that instantly put you at your ease, and as a result she was a person it was not easy to say no to, in fact she was a person you didn’t want to say no to, because you didn’t want to disappoint her”
I looked up from my notes briefly to see the heads nodding in agreement and then I continued.
“Not only that but Katy had the uncanny knack of asking you to do something and when she had you firmly committed to the task, left you with the feeling it was your own idea”
A ripple of laughter traversed the church; I paused until it subsided,
“Katy saw through the sinner and into the person within and when she saw YOU, the real YOU inside, the person behind the façade, you felt instantly connected to the world”
I paused again and looked out across the pews.
“And as I look around her Church I know that everyone here has felt her light upon them and for me the world is a darker place with her light extinguished”
I climbed down and returned to my seat; Georgia squeezed my hand and said.
“Well done darling”

As the Bishop finished the service, the congregation slowly stood as the six pallbearers moved forward and proceeded to carry the coffin down the aisle.
The pews then slowly emptied as everyone began to decant into the churchyard.
The burial itself, as per Katy’s wishes, was to be a more private affair.
So the bulk of the onlooker’s leisurely dispersed and made their way to the Golf club for the wake.
Georgia left me in the churchyard with a kiss and joined her parents; I would catch up with her at the club after the burial.
And I walked slowly through the churchyard and joined the group of mourners at the graveside that consisted of those closest to her at the end.

Afterwards we all made our way somberly to the Golf club.
The wake was held in the ballroom, but due to the clement weather the party had spilled out onto the terraces.
It was what I considered to be a Proper funeral where everyone wore black, the men in black suits and ties and the women in the whole somber ensemble.
Which was nice, it was tradition, I liked tradition; I also liked women in black.
This would normally be a source of titillation with all the women dressed in black, as I pictured them completely in black it would be a phwor moment and give me a bit of a semi, perverse I know but there you are.
That day however I was too emotionally drained to be aroused.
So as I found myself at the rear of the group as we approached the entrance to the club, after they had all gone inside I paused and turned around and walked across the 18th fairway towards home.

When I got inside I slipped my jacket off and went to the kitchen and poured myself a drink.
After sitting alone quietly for about half an hour I was disturbed by a knock at the door.
I ignored it and poured myself another drink.
There was another more persistent knock.
I ignored it again and drained my glass.
Then there was another even more persistent knock.
So I got up and walked down the hall and reluctantly opened the door.
It was Olivia Adamson, practice manager at the local surgery and organizer extraordinaire.
She was not unattractive to look at, tall and slender with nice long legs but her chest was as flat as a bowling green and she wore glasses if for no other reason than so you knew which side the was the front.
“I was told to come and get you,” She said
“You’ve been missed”
“I don’t think I can” I replied
“Nonsense” she said, “you’re expected”
I turned around and walked back to the kitchen and sat down.
“You must” she insisted crouching down in front of me.
“I can’t” I retorted
“You have no choice”
“I can’t go, how many times must I say it”? I snapped “its too hard”
“It’s not about you,” she shouted in my face “it’s about Katy”
And then inexplicably she kissed me.
“That’s not helping” I shouted and then kissed her back.
I don’t know what it was the black attire, the heated exchange or the fact that Olivia was so straight laced.
But whatever the reason the woman of whom I had never had a single sordid thought about was making my cock throb like a Formula 1 engine.
In response to my returning her kiss she laced her skinny arms around my neck and pulled her whole frame in close.
My hands began on her back but quickly descended to settle on her the surprising delight of pert little buttocks.
I grabbed a handful of her skirt with one hand and slipped the other one under it.
When I had both hands up her skirt I began dragging her tights down.
Olivia pulled her lips away from mine and I was expecting her to call a halt to proceedings but instead she said.
“Don’t ladder my tights”
“You should be wearing stockings anyway” I replied
And her mouth clamped back over mine and her lounge continued to energetically explore my mouth while I continued to debag her of her tights and knickers.
The cheeks of her arse were even more delightful when naked I fondled the exquisite globes but as nice as that was I relinquished one buttocks in order to probe between her cheeks and slip a finger into her crack.
She stopped kissing me the second my fingertip touched her crease and resting her forehead on mine she moaned at me.
Lacking any finesse on my part I quickly fingered her creamy cunny until she came loudly in my face.
We kissed again before I pushed her away.
“Turn around” I said
She followed my instructions as I undid my trousers and I sank to my knees behind her so I could do her on all fours on the kitchen floor.
I lifted her skirt off her buttocks I entered her superlatively tight cunt.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I said
“Shut up and do me,” Olivia begged
Her skirt kept falling over her buttocks as I banged her so I grabbed a handful of skirt and slipped my fingers inside her waistband.
To the casual observer it would have looked like I was a bronco rider as Olivia howled like a hound while I banged her again and again.
And then through gritted teeth she juddered and came loudly and I exploded inside her.
Afterwards Olivia stayed on all fours debauched and dishevelled panting and sighing as I pulled out.
“Will I be in one of your mucky books now?” she asked and chuckled
“Do you want to be?” I asked her
“Yes” she replied
“Then you’re in” I said as I stood up and redressed.
After a few minutes the panting practise manger got to her feet and redressed herself.
I looked her over and said
“What?” she asked
“Tights” I replied
“Shit” She said looking down at herself and noticing the large holes in the knees of her tights.

Olivia had to go home and change so I returned to the club across the 18th fairway.
When I got to the club Georgia came straight up to me and asked
“Are you ok hon?”
“Yes of course” I lied “I just needed an hour to myself to get my head straight”
Georgia seemed content with that.

The wake became quite lively and by the time I got round to see everyone and got back to Georgia it was getting late.
“Sorry darling” I said to her
“Don’t worry I’ve got you to myself the rest of the week” she replied and kissed me before continuing.
“For now I think you need to get Anne home”
I looked around and Anne was completely wasted.
“I see what you mean,” I said
Olivia was sat next to her and she asked
“Do you want a hand getting her home?”
“Yes please” I said laughing, “I rather think I do”

When I got back home after the wake I carried Anne, who was completely slaughtered, upstairs to bed while Olivia waited downstairs.
When I got back to the kitchen she was standing there in her underwear, a lacy black bra and matching panties and this time she was wearing black stockings on her lovely long legs.
“So you want to be in another story?” I asked and Olivia smiled and nodded.

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