by Vivi King
“So you said,” I replied blandly. “I can’t think why. We barely exchanged a dozen words.”
“I know. I just thought we might have a lot in common. I mean...”
“You mean you guessed what Darren and I had been doing and thought you could take advantage?” I broke in.
It was a risky tactic, in effect confessing to my night of infidelity but I wanted to ‘cut through the crap’ and perhaps knock him off his stride.
“That’s putting it a bit crudely,” he protested.
“But I’m right, aren’t I Will? You were listening?”
“I couldn’t help hearing. You made so much noise all night it kept me awake.”
I couldn’t deny it; I knew I had been noisy and Darren had fucked me many times. At one stage I had loudly begged the young man to fuck a baby into my belly. It was a wish I had expressed frequently when close to orgasm in the past but this time my lover had unknowingly granted it. My hands fell unconsciously to my belly again.
“You heard it all?” I asked aghast.
“Enough to know what kind of lover you are.”
There was a long pause. I looked into his open eyes looking for the cold hardness of a blackmailer that I assumed I would find. To my surprise I saw something more like... appreciation; perhaps even respect.
“Okay Will,” I gave in. “There’s no point denying it; I cheated on my husband with Darren. You heard it. The question is what are you going to do about it?”
It took all my willpower but I managed to stare at him coldly.
“What do you want, Will? Money?”
The boy looked genuinely shocked at the idea, then badly hurt.
“No! Of course not,” he exclaimed. “That’s a terrible thing to suggest.”
His reaction was immediate, unrehearsed and entirely convincing, wrong-footing me again.
“Then what do you want?” I demanded, more puzzled than angry.
“What did you think I wanted when I asked you to meet me here?” he asked as if astonished.
“I didn’t know what to think,” I replied. “I was worried about what you said.”
“And you thought I was threatening you?”
“Why else would you want to see me?” I asked, dumbfounded.
Will looked at me in surprise.
“Don’t you get it? Why would I ask an attractive woman for a drink somewhere private where we wouldn’t be disturbed?”
The penny finally dropped. Oh my God!
“Will I...”
“I said I wasn’t sure you’d come but I really hoped you would. And you’ve dressed so sexily too.”
Had I? I hadn’t intended to. Maybe knowing I was meeting an attractive young man my subconscious had taken over.
“You think I want to...” I asked hesitantly.
“Of course. Why else would you have come here so late?” he asked, his face open like a child’s.
“You’re not trying to blackmail me?”
Will sat back on his stool, genuinely shocked and offended.
“Christ no! What do you think I am?”
I daren’t tell him what I had thought; clearly my assessment of him was no better than his assessment of me.
“I thought” I stammered. “You mean you just want to... to...”
Will smiled and leaned forward. He reached across and placed his strong hand on my skinny thigh.
“I would never want to hurt you, Mrs. Barker. Far from it; I want to have sex with you, that’s all.”
“What?”
“I’ve wanted to do it with you ever since I heard you and Darren that night.”
There was no misunderstanding those words; no possible way of misinterpreting them. The shocked realisation stunned me.
“But I’m old enough to be your...” I stammered, dumbfounded.
“My mother? I suppose so. But you aren’t my mother Mrs. Barker and there isn’t a boy in the world that doesn’t have a crush on a MILF at some time in his life.”
Fortunately from my researches I knew what a MILF was. In my naiveté it hadn’t crossed my mind that anyone might think I was one myself.
“But you have a girlfriend,” I protested, to my annoyance sounding more like a mother than ever.
“She’s not here right now.”
For a moment I wondered whether the girl believed her relationship with Will was as casual as he clearly viewed it. Maybe she did; maybe this was the way things were done these days. But then the voice inside me spoke loudly and clearly, reminding me that I was hardly pure as the driven snow myself.
“And I’m married...” I began.
Will snorted.
“You husband’s not here either. Anyway, that didn’t stop you sleeping with Darren.”
There was no denying that either.
“Has he talked about me?” I asked anxiously.
“He doesn’t kiss and tell,” Will replied. I felt a little relieved. “Darren’s had a lot of older women; he’s got a thing about them. But he knows how to keep a secret.”
He leaned closer, his hand moving further up my thigh.
“I can keep a secret too.”
I just looked at him, stunned.
“He did say you were really good in bed – but then I’d heard that for myself.”
To my amazement I felt myself swelling with pride at these words then immediately felt ashamed of myself.
“Is that all he said?”
Will looked embarrassed, almost unable to look me in the eye as he replied.
“He said... he said you were a pushover too.”
I sighed. I suppose from Darren’s point of view that was right. It really hadn’t taken much to get me into his bed and I had made no attempt to leave it until the following morning.
“So you wanted to see if he was right? Whether you could get into my knickers too?” I asked.
He nodded, his face lowered like a naughty child’s.
“And that really is all you want?”
He nodded again.
“That’s all.”
The pause that came next was almost as pregnant as I was.
“I... I need to go to the ladies room,” I eventually mumbled as I dismounted the stool, desperate to give myself a bit of space to think.
“The lights are on a movement sensor at night,” Will said matter-of-factly as I walked a little unsteadily towards the toilets. “They’ll come on when you go in.”
Once out of his sight for a second or two I contemplated simply running away; jumping into my car and going home. But that would have been no solution; I would have left an angry, frustrated witness to my impregnation behind and the danger to Pete and my future still unresolved.
Instead I half ran down the low-lit corridor to the ladies changing room. It was dark but as promised, the lights did come on as I entered. I slipped into the nearest cubicle, locked the door, sat down on the seat and rummaged in my bag for my mobile phone.
‘Are you there?’ I tapped the screen anxiously. ‘Please answer Pete.’
‘I’m here. Are you okay?’ came the prompt reply.
‘Can you talk?’ I asked.
‘I’m on top table. Speeches are still on. Wait a moment.’
Thirty second later my phone rang. It was Pete.
“Hi. Can you talk now?” I asked.
“I’m outside the French doors. I’ve got two minutes max before I’m needed.”
“I’ll be quick,” I promised.
“Have you met him yet?’
“I’m still with him at the club. I’ve gone to the loo.”
“How much does he want?” Pete asked, coming straight to the point.
“He doesn’t want money,” I replied.
“What the hell does he want then?” Pete demanded instantly and angrily.
“I can’t believe it,” I said.
“Can’t believe what?”
I sat back on the loo, took a deep breath then whispered:
“He wants me Pete.”
“What?”
“He wants to fuck me. Says I’m a MILF and he’s wanted me since my night with Darren.”
“Jesus Christ! I’ll kill the blackmailing bastard...”
The explosion that came down the phone line was prolonged and uncharacteristic of my husband but was all the more shocking for that fact. Pete sounded angrier than I could remember hearing him before. Though the outcome would be the same, clearly in my husband’s mind there was a world of difference between him agreeing to me having sex with other men and another man coercing us into another cuckolding.
The male mind is very hard to fathom sometimes.
“I’ll break his fucking...” he continued.
“No you won’t Pete,” I said loudly and clearly, halting him in mid expletive.
“Why the Hell not?”
“Because I can’t think of a better way to make all this public than for you to have a set-to with Will, can you?”
“But he’s...”
“But nothing. The last thing we want is for this to get out, right?”
“Right,” he agreed reluctantly.
“So anything we do has to be quiet and confidential. Right again?”
“I suppose so.”
There was a pause. I hadn’t told Pete that I did not think his chances of beating up a man half his age who worked out every day were very high. I loved my husband and did not want him to be hurt or humiliated any more - I had done enough of that already.
“Pete?” I prompted him.
“Has he threatened anything if you say no?” he asked more calmly.
I thought for a moment before replying. In truth Will had made no threats at all. Maybe he wasn’t a blackmailer; maybe he was just a chancer seeing an opportunity to get his end away with a woman he believed was a good fuck and an easy lay.
“No,” I said. “Not yet.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want it all to go away,” I said honestly.
“That’s not going to happen is it?”
“I suppose not.”
“Is a fuck really all he wants?” Pete asked.
“He hasn’t mentioned anything else.”
“Just one fuck?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t said that either.”
As I talked, I realised Will really hadn’t mentioned anything other than wanting to fuck me. He hadn’t said if he meant once, twice or even an ongoing affair like Darren had enjoyed with Julie. Those two had practically moved in together; God alone knew how often they had done the deed.
There was another of Pete’s infuriatingly long pauses.
“I can’t stay in the loo forever,” I prompted irritably.
“Sorry. Someone was close by.”
“Well?” I demanded.
“Can you stall him any other way till I get back?”
“I doubt it.”
“And he really doesn’t want money?”
“’I’m sure he doesn’t.”
“Sorry Penn. They’re introducing me now. I’ve got to go. I’m speaking next.”
Pete’s words made my heart sink then I jumped with surprise.
“Mrs. Barker? Penny? Are you okay?”
The sound of Will’s voice entering the ladies changing room threw me into a panic.
“Please Pete! What should I do?” I hissed into the phone then called out loud from my locked cubicle:
“I’m okay Will. I won’t be a minute!”
“I’ll be in the changing room,” he replied.
Pete’s voice came out of the speaker again.
“Do what you think is best. I trust you.”
“What if I have to let him fuck me?” I whispered anxiously. “What about the Geneva Convention?”
I was referring to the new marriage contract Pete and I had agreed at the end of our temporary separation over a month ago when we had agreed to stay together despite my previous repeated cheating.
“Anything’s okay as long as we both agree,” he sighed.
“It sounds like you expect me to fuck him, Pete.”
There was another exasperating pause which I eventually broke.
“Is that right? You’re really okay if I have to act the whore?”
My husband’s reaction was bitter, unwelcome and out of character. The helplessness of the situation must have been distressing him badly.
“It’s what got us into this situation, Penny.”
“Please Pete! Now isn’t the time to bring that up – however true it might be.”
“I’m sorry,” he sounded so too. “That was uncalled for. I trust your judgment, Penn. Do what you think is best and I’ll back you all the way.”
“Thanks Pete. I got us into it so I’ll get us out of it.”
“They’re announcing me now. I’ve got to go,” Pete said hurriedly. “Speak later?”
“Okay. Good luck. I love you!” I whispered.
“Good luck to you too,” Pete replied. “I love you too.”
“Penny?” Will’s voice from outside the cubicle door sounded anxious.
“I’m okay,” I said in as close to my normal voice as I could. “I’ll be out in a moment.”
I rose to my feet, pulling my over-tight summer dress down over my hips, horrified by the amount of bare, middle-aged thigh it left exposed. I pressed the flush button then, taking a deep breath, opened the door and stepped out into goodness knows what.
“I thought something had happened to you!”
Will smiled as I left the toilet and stepped into the brightly lit changing room. He was sitting on a polished wooden bench that I had used many times to tie my laces or to put down my bags. There was a look of genuine concern on his handsome but very young-looking face.
“Something has happened to me,” I said angrily. “I’ve had a nasty shock.”
He looked surprised.
“Because of what I said?”
“What do you expect?” I asked seriously but not angrily. “I’m twice your age, married, we hardly know each other and you’re trying to make me jump into bed with you.”
“I’m not trying to force you,” he insisted. “All I’m saying is that I think you and I would get on well together. No-one else need ever know.”
He rose to his feet and crossed slowly over to where I was standing in front of the wall of changing- room mirrors. There was a long counter-top and half dozen hair dryers which I had often used to make myself look vaguely human again after a class or session in the gym.
I watched his reflection as he approached; my hands unconsciously on my lower belly where unknown to him, his housemate’s baby was even at that moment growing. As if pregnancy alone wasn’t a big enough problem, now I had an ear-witness to the conception who no matter what he said, could blow Pete and my lives apart any time he wanted.
If the pregnancy ever became public knowledge, Will’s evidence would be far more incriminating than he realised and would have forced us out of town by shame. God alone knew how our children would react to their mother getting pregnant by a boy their own age.
Although he wasn’t actually threatening to expose my infidelity, the danger was clear and present. Pete was right: it was imperative that Will remained silent and it appeared only I could ensure this. But how could I be sure? I needed to buy time to think but could only imagine only one way in which Will could be distracted.
Sensing my anxiety, Will started what he must have believed were the preliminaries to the seduction of an easy target. He did it well; I felt his fingers lightly stroking my arm. His hands were soft and surprisingly cool. I watched in the large mirrors as he moved slowly behind me, shivering as his young body brushed against my back.
“This isn’t a good idea, Will,” I began but the words sounded weak.
I felt the heat of a human body on my back through the thin cotton of my dress. I felt the touch of human hands on my waist and on my hips. I saw strong male hands and arms and a handsome, masculine head reflected in the mirror before
me.
Was this really all he wanted? A quick fuck with a woman as old as his mother? Would that really buy us safety? Surely the young man wanted more.
I looked at his eager, youthful face; whatever the difference in our ages, he clearly found me attractive if his lustful expression was anything to go by. And more importantly, there was no denying the fact that despite my fears, I was beginning to find him extremely attractive too.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whispered, more to convince myself than in the expectation of stopping Will.
I knew I should stop it all there and then but could do nothing but close my eyes. Will was good; surprisingly good for one so young. Unseen, unrushed hands ran up and down my sides, over my bottom then came around my torso and up to my chest where they cupped my boobs through my dress.
“You have a great body, Mrs. Barker.”
“Penny,” I corrected him automatically then metaphorically kicked myself for collaborating in my own downfall.
“Penny,” he repeated the word softly as his hands descended to my waist. My eyes opened again.
“Please Will! This is wrong. I’m married and...”
“Does that matter?” he whispered in a soft, seductive voice. “We wouldn’t really be hurting anyone, would we? Not if they never found out.”
I shook my head slowly despite my misgivings and sighed audibly, watching our reflections in the mirror as Will’s hands worked their way slowly, smoothly but inexorably over my bony hips and skinny buttocks. My own hands were still pressed protectively against my belly as if defending my growing baby from his touch.
“So why shouldn’t we enjoy each other for a while?” he continued, his low voice almost hypnotic.
I stared helplessly into his sparking reflected eyes as his hands rose up my sides and forward to my boobs where they began to knead my tiny globes more firmly. Maybe if I let him get a little way; maybe if I let him think he would succeed in the end I could put him off tonight; long enough to talk to my husband properly about it.
“It still feels wrong,” I protested weakly. “Like a kind of blackmail.”
My voice was little more than a whisper as Will’s lips found the nape of my neck. He began to plant tiny kisses along my shoulders and up to my hairline.
“It isn’t blackmail,” he insisted softly. “It’s two people enjoying each other’s bodies. Purely physical.”
