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Button Busting Bev

Mrs Harrison made me quite weak at the knees, particularly when she had her mac on. This is quite an achievement for her really when you consider that her knee weakening effect hit me when I was just 10.

She had a son, David, who was my best friend and schoolmate. The Harrisons lived just up the road from us and Mrs Harrison would walk David and I to school as I had to pass their house en route. I would always go in on the way, and on wet days, Mrs Harrison would put her beautiful cream, double-breasted raincoat on before walking us to school. My own Mother had one too, but there was a certain “Je ne sais quoi” about Mrs Harrison in her mac that my own Mother lacked. I would watch her buttoning up, trying not to make it too obvious that I was gawping at her in awe. I wasn’t quite sure what the feelings were that I was getting. I hadn’t had them before, but as a fully blown adult I can confirm that these were my earliest feelings of attraction to someone from the fairer sex. A bit unfortunate that I picked a lady who was about 30, when I was just 10.

The really good news was that we wore school Gaberdines in navy blue. These were double breasted coats and I enjoyed wearing mine as much as so many of your other contributors did.

One wet morning when I arrived at the Harrison’s – dripping – David answered the door with big plasters all over his right hand. He had had a nasty accident with a vegetable knife the night before. He told me all about it woefully. Then Mrs Harrison appeared, buttoned up beautifully. She took David’s gabardine, stood behind him (she was tall) and fed his arms gently into the sleeves. She reached round him and fastened the buttons up for him, without saying a word. I wanted her to do that for me… It looked lovely.

The next day was wetter still. I had decided to go undone down to David’s house and see if there was a way of getting Mrs Harrison to do up my buttons too. Just as I was leaving the house my Mum saw that I was unfastened and she shouted at me to button up my coat! I did so, but began furtively unbuttoning as I neared the Harrison’s. Mrs Harrison answered the door and she told me off for not having my coat fastened. This in itself was quite enjoyable. Once again she buttoned her own coat up. While she did this I managed to fumble hopelessly with my gabardine raincoat’s buttons. She did David up too, as she had before, watching me with a beady eye. I pretended I hadn’t noticed and gave up on my buttons…. With David’s buttons done and belt tied she came and stood behind me…. “Come here. You can’t go out like that!” She proceeded to button me up from behind me. She started at the top and worked downwards. The lower she went the more I melted. This was lovely.

I carried this on every wet day, even after David’s hand was recovered. She just presumed I struggled with buttons I suppose. She probably thought my Mum had been doing them for me at home on all the previous occasions. There was one small problem when an observant boy on the playground once we reached school whooped with delight. “You’ve done your coat up the girl’s way!” I hadn’t noticed this before, but these double-breasted gabardines had two rows of button holes as well as two rows of buttons. Because Mrs Harrison stood behind me to do them up she was simply doing them in the way that felt natural to her as a lady… ie, the left hand row.

I kept this scam up for almost a year, until one day when I think she sensed how much I enjoyed it. She did up the top 2 buttons….. and then asked David to do the others….. That wasn’t so good…. I started arriving at their house with my buttons done up after that and no more was said. 

David and I remained good friends. In fact, we still are, 30 years on. I can also confirm that his Mother is still a very attractive and immaculate lady – aged 61. She has a mac… In fact, she’s always had one ever since. She always goes for a stone coloured one when she has a new one too. Come to think of it, she paints all her walls Magnolia as well.

As our teenage years evolved I grew warmer and warmer about Mrs Harrison. My Gaberdine got ditched when Secondary School started and, like most kids at the time, I moved onto anoraks – which was sad. I would often remember those days in Mrs Harrison’s hall though, thinking of her fingers on my buttons. In fact, it’s a beautiful memory as I type it now too.

A few years later Mr and Mrs Harrison made one of their least wise decisions. They allowed David to have an 18th Birthday party in the house - and went out while it was going on. Things were tamer then than they are now, but things still got rather wild with a group of sixth-formers fired up with cheap lager and cider. I’d had half an eye on Beverley throughout the sixth form. She was a big girl in all dimensions, tall, broad and big breasted. She also had a larger than life personality. She just lacked 2 things, a boyfriend, and a mac! Even in the wettest of weathers she would turn up at school in a bomber jacket affair. Had she owned a mac I may well have been totally smitten – but she didn’t, so I wasn’t. It was common knowledge that she was attracted to me though, and I’m not really sure why a red blooded 18 year old like I was hadn’t reciprocated at least a bit until then – even if she hadn’t got the sense to own a sexy coat!

David’s party was, to put it mildly, a gunpowder style hormone factory. As the cider and lager flowed I became increasingly attracted to Bev – who had scrubbed up well even without a proper coat on that damp Summer night. We snuggled on the settee… She whispered stuff in my ear and we giggled together. When enough cider and lager had been consumed, somehow we finished up in Mr and Mrs Harrison’s bedroom – with the door locked by Bev, from the inside. She dropped the key into her cleavage and told me I’d have to find it in order to escape… I asked her why I’d want to! Bev became extremely open and told me that she wanted me dressed up. It turned out that a man in a suit was attractive to her. The Harrison’s bedroom had a garment-hanging rail. Bev dared me to try on one of Mr Harrison’s suits, and one of his shirts and ties. I did! He had a mac hanging on the rail too – so I put that on over the suit. I left it undone. She stared at me… “Phwoarrrrr!” she exploded.

Having pleased her so, I felt that I now had carte blanche to make Bev complete. Hanging on the end of the rail was (you guessed) one of Mrs Harrison’s macs from that era. I stood there, hands on hips… I role-played by telling her I’d had an awful day at the office and that we were “going out for dinner”…. I held up the mac, carefully removing it from its hanger…

“We need to be dressed up for dinner don’t we?”

Bev never even questioned me. She put her arms in. I came round in  front of her and did the buttons up as sensually as I could. I was enjoying myself immensely. Mrs Harrison might have been tall but she wasn’t broad. This made the buttons a bit of a tight squeeze, but I didn’t care… Once she was done up I just stood there, but Bev must have read my mind……

“Come here!” She buttoned Mr Harrison’s mac up for me, and pushed me backwards onto the bed. I think she could tell what an effect this was having on me. As if this was not enough she then launched her full weight, body, party dress and Mrs Harrison’s buttoned up mac onto the bed beside me… This was going to be it…. My first adult encounter with a girl in a mac, whilst I was wearing one too. I couldn’t believe my luck. Who could ask for more?

Oh how cruel life is…. As Bev descended onto the bed at high speed it all became a bit much for the tightly buttoned mac. All four of the buttons that I had painstakingly done up for her gave way, pinging off like missiles. One flew out of the slightly open window!

There came a knocking at the door. Then we heard David’s voice demanding to know who was inside.

Bev raised herself a little on the bed and whispered….

“S**t! What are we going to do now?”

Our passion became aborted somewhat. I looked through the open window, pushed it wider and shinned down the drainpipe in the fading light and climbed back up – having been fortunate enough to locate the missing button. Bev chucked them all in the left hand pocket and hung the mac back up. Then I realised I’d been down the drainpipe and back up it in David’s father’s mac (now dirty) and his best suit… The knocking at the door grew more urgent…

“Come out. My Mum and Dad will kill me.”

I whispered my plan to Bev. She agreed to it.

I shinned down the drainpipe again (in my clothes this time) and ran the 50 yards to the nearest phone box. No mobile phones way back then…. I phoned David’s house. My mate Simon answered the phone, barely able to hear due to loud music and perplexed about how I could phone when already in the house. I told him to get David. I knew Bev would have heard the phone and she knew David would be summoned to it. When she heard him go she unlocked the bedroom door and ran into the bathroom opposite apparently. I told David that I had gone to get us some more cider from the off licence up the road, and asked him if he needed anything else…. I came back and went in through the front door.

The next day Mrs Harrison waved cheerily at me as she drove past, buttoned up in her coat. I have no idea what was said to David when she found her coat in that state, or what Mr Harrison made of his own glad rags. I just knew that she must have been able to sew the buttons back on, and pretty quickly too. All was well that had ended well then, though I had to wait another 5 years before being in a bedroom with a lady in a raincoat again. It seemed like an eternity.

Andy