The Funeral – a Chloe Story


(Author’s Note: Many thanks to everyone who has read my stories so far, I really appreciate it and welcome any feedback. This is a standalone story for Chloe, based on a recent experience I had. It’s not necessary to have read Chloe’s Introduction in order to enjoy this one, but i would dearly love you to, all the same! All the best, Chloe xxx)

The pouring rain on the M1 motorway seemed like a harbinger of doom for Chloe, a dark portent for what the next couple of days had in store for her.

It had been two weeks since she received the phone-call.

“Chloe, dear, it’s your mum” – which she already knew from the caller-ID. Mum had never really grasped modern technology.

“Hi mum, how’s things?”

“Not good, your uncle Bernard… he died in his sleep last night.”

This wasn’t a complete surprise, as Bernard had been ill for a while, and in and out of hospital, but still the news struck Chloe hard, and she felt her heart drop.

“Oh, bless,” she said softly.

“Your father and I are helping get things arranged. The funeral date is likely to be in two weeks, will you be able to come?”

“Of course, mum! I’ll be there.”

Of course.

On the phone she hadn’t the chance to consider what she was going into, but in the two weeks leading up to the long journey north, it had hit her. Chloe was going to her hometown for the first time in twelve years.

Chloe had left for the University of Bristol to read Law, at the age of 18. She knew little of the world, really, having been brought up within a strict Catholic household, along with her older brother and sister. She had studied hard, partly in order to be allowed a University of her choosing rather than one foretold by her parents, which would have been the nearest to home.

She left home still a virgin, something which didn’t change until her second year at uni, when she moved out of the halls of residence and into a house-share with two other girls, Hannah and Tracey. These two were a right pair, she mused. It wasn’t long before they were inviting boys over and shagging them, and Chloe was listening and finding herself aroused by what she heard. Her new friends were quick to take Chloe under their wing and help her explore and enjoy her sexuality.

Looking back on those two years, Chloe felt like she had been a shackled beast, finally released back into the wild. It was a very hedonistic period. That’s the polite version, she mused. The fact was she was a proper slut during that period and did some pretty wild things, some best kept in the darker corners of her memory.

She remembered her first visit home, after she had cut her hair. Hannah had given her a makeover appointment at a well-known salon in Bristol. She’d cut her hair to just below her shoulders and had it coloured in autumnal shades of red and brown. When her mum saw her, she went white as a sheet. She was almost silent for the whole first day she was there, which ostensibly was to celebrate her birthday.

“I knew there would be…. changes, dear, but…why? Why do you look like that?”

“Like what mum?” Chloe had been very confused by her reaction.

“Like a… a strumpet! A whore!” This left Chloe open-mouthed in shock, while her mum ran upstairs and locked herself in her room. She’d looked to her dad who could only give a sort of half-apologetic shrug.

“Sorry, darling. You know how old-fashioned she is.”

It turned out that in past centuries — Centuries! – prostitutes would don red and ginger wigs to show that they were women of negotiable virtue, and Chloe’s family had some deep-rooted ideas about such things. Eventually her mum calmed down, but she still found it difficult to look at her own daughter during that weekend.

Her uncle Bernard was a different kettle of fish. He was Chloe’s mum’s brother-in-law, married to her sister, Alison. He often worked in Bath, which was very close to Bristol, and they used to meet up often for a meal. Bernard had been very supportive of her life choices and had provided sterling advice about her degree and career prospects. When she started work in London, she would often pop back to Bristol to see friends and meet up with Bernard. When things got rough with her long-time boyfriend, David, he had given her advice which quite possibly saved her life.

It was he who encouraged her to switch careers when she confessed to him her love of hairdressing and also suggested that she move out of London to be able to afford a more comfortable lifestyle, which is how she ended up at Edwina’s salon.

Chloe had been at the salon now for over a year, and a lot had changed for her. She had fit in well with the owner, Edwina, and her main stylist, Tracey, and had garnered her own set of regular istanbul travesti customers. Then one day she suddenly discovered the salon had a very sexy secret — it was the hub for a ring of dommes and subs who all had an interest in hairdressing. It had been like someone had read her secret fantasies and made them a reality.

While Chloe’s reputation as a hairstylist grew, so did her sexuality. She had always considered herself to be a submissive person, and even when at college, she had gone with the flow rather than instigate anything directly herself. Now, she had discovered a whole new side to herself, one which was still developing but had willing lovers to explore with.

A blaring horn startled Chloe. She had drifted so deep into her mind that her car was starting to drift into another lane. She blinked hard and corrected her course. At least the rain had stopped, she thought, as she ploughed on.

It was the day before the funeral, and Chloe had booked into a hotel, rather than stay at her parents. She needed the space, time to decompress, before the morning’s ceremony. After a quick shower and change, she made her way to her aunt Alison’s house, where her parents were going to be.

As if having her husband die after a lengthy illness, Alison was virtually blind and losing her memory. Chloe’s mum and their other sister, Claire, were on hand to help, while Chloe’s dad tried to make sense of Bernard’s financial affairs, which were unfortunately in disarray and no will could be found.

Chloe arrived wearing a light grey skirt suit, a left-over from her days as a contract manager, with a red blouse. Her hair was in its current bleach-blonde bob.

“Who’s that?” said her aunt, as Chloe walked into her living room.

“It’s Chloe, Alison,” she said. She felt silly using the term “aunt” now.

“Ohh Chloe. Thank you for coming.” She stood up and Chloe suddenly noticed how diminutive she’d gotten.

“Have you been growing?” Alison asked.

“No, I’m afraid it’s you whose been shrinking!” she chuckled lightly.

Chloe’s mum, she noticed, remained distant again. Since that visit home with her new hairstyle, their relationship had splintered irreparably, with other factors of her life compounding the issue. It seemed to Chloe that she could accept her only at the end of a phone call and was having difficulty being in the same room. Chloe took a deep breath and decided that was a fight for another day. Her dad was pre-occupied with trying to access Bernard’s computer records, so Chloe spent the evening catching up with her aunt. It went about as well as expected.

“So, how’s life in the City, dear?”

“Oh, I don’t work in London any more Alison. Haven’t done for well over a year, now. I moved to Nottingham.”

“Oh! Are there many contract jobs there?” she asked.

“Actually, I changed professions, as well as towns. I’m now a hairstylist.”

Chloe could almost see the cogs inside Alison’s head jarring to a halt as she tried to digest this.

“A… hairdresser. You were a commercial manager and now…. a hairdresser.”

“Yes. And I’ve never been happier.”

“But what about…. you know, your fella, what’s his name….”

“David,” chimed in her mum from the kitchen.

“We….split up.”

“But you were engaged… “

“Yes. It…. it didn’t work out. It’s complicated Alison, and I don’t want to go into it right now.”

“Oh, of course dear,” she said, smiling, a little puzzled.

“SHE’S A LESBIAN!” cried her mother. “That’s why. That’s why!”

Chloe closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She opened them and smiled at her aunt.

“I better be off, Alison. I’ll see you at the church tomorrow.” She waved at her dad, looked sadly at her mum who had her back to her, and left.

On her way to the Church, the next morning, Chloe took what could charitably be called the scenic route, through her old hometown. Blackhall was an old mining town, which had virtually died when the coal pit was closed down. Unemployment was rife, the only chance for escape was prison, the military or university. Chloe had known of people from school who had chosen the former two. She had always yearned to escape and had studied hard not just at the behest of her parents but for her own agenda too.

The town consisted of a single, straight main road, with houses built either side. The sea could always be seen between the gaps of the houses and shops, a large grey sheet which met the sky on the horizon. As she drove up the main street, she couldn’t help but notice how many of the shops were closed.

The funeral itself went as well as expected. The service was light, and the burial a bit bizarre. Chloe had to admit istanbul travestileri feeling a bit queasy stood at the side of the grave, looking down at the coffin. Standing there amongst the mourners, wearing a black pinafore dress, Chloe felt a sudden moment of clarity wash over her: that, one day, she would be the one looking up. However, the moment only strengthened her resolve that she had made the right decisions, to follow her heart and her passions.

The reception was being held in an old country manor which was now a classy hotel. Chloe hadn’t managed to get a room there, instead had spent the night in a small bed and breakfast which had been comfortable enough. The reception itself… wasn’t very receptive of Chloe. Clearly, there had been a lot of gossip over the past couple of years about Chloe. Adults who Chloe had grown up around were having whispered conversations whenever she passed, and she had decided that she was going to have a quick drink, some food, pay her respects to her aunt and leave. She couldn’t wait to put this place in her rear-view mirror.

As she stood at the buffet table, it was her aunt who found her first. She walked up to her with an attractive looking woman on her arm.

“Now, who’s that” asked her aunt. She could only make out shadows and outlines of people.

“It’s me, Chloe, Alison”

“Ah! Good! Chloe. I don’t know if you remember… Daphne. She’s your second cousin.”

The woman smiled at Chloe. “Yes, I think we have met before…” she said.

A sudden memory flashed into her head, of her grandmother’s eightieth birthday, a stunning girl arriving and her cousins and brother musing how they couldn’t possibly be related to someone so beautiful.

“Grandma’s eightieth,” Chloe said, which made the woman smile brightly. “Yes! I believe it was!”

“I was only 14 at the time,” Chloe said.

“You had an older brother…. Chris?” it was cute how her eyebrow twitched as she tried to recall.

“Yes. Christopher”.

As they talked, the priest had come and escorted Alison away to talk to some other well-wishers.

“Looks like I’m off escort duty then,” said Daphne. “Shall we go sit down?”

The pair spent the next hour, chatting, learning a bit about each other. Like Chloe, Daphne had distanced herself somewhat from the family clan and was now living in Edinburgh. Chloe enjoyed her company immensely; she had a light sense of humour and was well read. She wore a black skirt with a white blouse and a floppy black bow. Her blonde hair was neatly styled into a French twist, and she had large jet-stone earrings dangling from her lobes, which she played with on occasion.

“Are you staying here tonight?” asked Daphne.

“No, I was planning on driving home this afternoon. Soon, actually. How about you?”

“I have a room here. I was here last night and heading home in the morning.”

“What are the rooms like?”

“Quite comfy, though the shower’s a bit weak. My room has a lovely four poster bed.”

“Sounds lovely,” Chloe smiled.

“You can come and have a look if you’d like?” There didn’t seem to be anything but innocence in her offer.

Chloe smiled. “I’d love to, what is the room number? I’ll just say goodbye to Alison and….my parents.” She’d given Daphne the précised version.

“Room 207. Just knock.”

Chloe found her dad regaling one of her cousins with an old story she’d heard plenty of times.

“Bye dad, I’m going to be off shortly. Do you know where mum is?”

He quickly scanned the room.

“Errrm, no, can’t see her at the moment dear.”

“Well tell her I’ll give her a call soon, then.”

After giving her aunt a kiss on the cheek, she slowly made her way up the large, carpeted staircase. The hotel was like a rabbit’s warren, and it took her a couple of wrong turns before she found herself knocking on room 207.

Daphne opened the door swiftly and smiled at Chloe, beckoning her inside.

“You weren’t kidding about the four poster,” she said, walking into the large room. The bed dominated the space but there was room for a sofa as well. Daphne handed her a small glass of wine.

“I know you’re planning to be driving later…a small one won’t hurt?” she enquired.

“Thank you. The bar downstairs was remarkably dry!”

They sat down on the sofa, angled slightly toward each other. Daphne kicked off her heeled shoes and reached up to take the pins out of her hair, giving it a shake, revealing a mass of blonde waves past her shoulders.

“Ahh that’s better” she said, “I feel so…. I don’t know — constricted? Restrained? Like I’ve had to resemble something I’m not.”

“I know exactly how you feel, Daphne. I’ve felt the same all day, travesti istanbul inside at least.”

Daphne smiled, and took Chloe’s glass, putting it on the small glass table in front of them. She turned to Chloe, looked her in the eyes and said, “Can I kiss you, Chloe?”

Chloe didn’t speak, just leaned towards Daphne and cupped her cheek, leaning in so their lips touched, slowly pressing together in a kiss. It was a slow, languid kiss that they both could savour. Chloe leant back slightly, looking at Daphne.

“Yes, you may, Daphne dear”, and kissed her again, more firmly, her own lips pushing Daphne’s apart as her tongue slid against them, causing Daphne to moan softly. Chloe’s hand slid under Daphne’s hair, stroking her nape. She felt Daphne’s fingers exploring her own clippered undercut.

Their kiss became a bit more urgent, as they grew more aroused in themselves and one another. Chloe felt Daphne’s fingers unzipping her dress, and she broke the kiss, standing up and slowly sliding the dress down her body. As she stood there, Daphne took off her blouse, her skirt and earrings. She unhooked her bra, freeing her large grapefruit sized breasts, then finally her black lace knickers, revealing her smooth, waxed mound. Chloe undid her own bra, and slid off her panties, revealing her neatly trimmed triangle of fur.

“oh, wow,” said Daphne. “That looks so sexy”.

With that, she knelt between Chloe’s thighs, as she stood naked before her. Chloe shivered as she felt Daphne’s fingers slide into her thick fur, rubbing it, stroking her mound gently, kissing the smooth skin around the edge.

Chloe reached down and took Daphne’s hand, pulling her up into an embrace, kissing her. “Let’s move to the bed darling,” she said.

Daphne climbed onto the fourposter and lay on her back, pulling Chloe to her. Chloe’s knee pressed between her thighs as she kissed her ear, her neck, her throat.

Daphne arched her back as Chloe attacked her breasts, trying to fit as much flesh into her mouth as she could and sucking hard on it. She gasped and moaned when Chloe dragged her teeth over her skin, til she caught hold of her nipple and sucked on it hard.

Daphne’s hands slid into Chloe’s hair, clutching and scrunching it, something which always aroused Chloe, making her even more wet. They could smell their wet arousal, Chloe’s knee slick with Daphne’s juices.

Chloe moved to Daphne’s other breast and pulled her nipple with her teeth, something which made her back arch and a guttural moan escape from her throat. Her hands pushed at Chloe’s head, bidding her to sink lower between her thighs. She was more than willing to oblige.

The pair were running on lustful instinct, their desire for each other perfectly in tune. Neither was in a rush, there was passion without an immature urgency to their movements. Chloe slid down and pushed Daphne’s knees apart and settled between her thighs.

“Ohh yesses”, moaned Daphne as her mound, her smooth, waxed mound, was licked, kissed, and nibbled at by Chloe’s lip and tongue. She clamped her mouth over Daphne’s vulva and started a series of long slow licks along the outside and inside of Daphnis lips.

Her tongue slid between them, pressing them apart, a series of long, slow licks that ended pressing against her clit. Daphne was panting now, her pussy soaking wet. Chloe’s lips sought out the hood and started sucking gently, while two fingers pushed into Daphne.

“Umm yesses, fuck me, Chloe” she breathed, her hips raising to meet Chloe’s fingers. She was wet, sodden, and Chloe easily slid in and out. She concentrated on rubbing her fingers against Daphne’s inner wall as she thrust them inside. She continued sucking on Daphne’s hood, feeling the hard nub inside, and lashed it with her tongue, causing Daphne to cry out.

“Oh, Chloe I’m going to cum” she panted. Chloe kept up the pace of her fingers and hooked them hard against the inner wall, causing Daphne to cry out and convulse hard. Suddenly she was squirting cum, soaking Chloe’s face. Chloe closed her eyes and held on, riding out Daphne’s orgasm which caused her to grip Chloe’s fingers like a vice. Cum dripped from her face and chin as Daphne slowly came down from her intense climax.

Chloe lay beside her, hugging her gently for a few minutes, before reluctantly moving from the bed.

“You’re not going?” Asked Daphne. Chloe sighed.

“I have to, it’s going to be dark soon and I hate driving at night on the motorway.”

Daphne sat up.

“Then….stay. Stay with me tonight. Head back in the morning.”


“We can have an early breakfast, and you’ll be back in time for work. I need to set off early myself, so you won’t be late, I promise. Please, Chloe. Stay with me tonight.”

And so, she did.

It never occurred to her mum that, when she finally left the hotel, that Chloe’s car was still in the carpark. However, it did occur to Chloe, that she would never have a happier memory of this place, her whole time here, than right in that moment.

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