Finally dragging his gaze away from my bulging panties, he opened another bottle of wine and refilled our glasses. Losing all control, I slipped my hand up my skirt and pulled my panties aside before he turned and passed me my drink. If the sight of my hairless pussy lip bulging from the side of my panties didn’t stiffen his cock, nothing would. I’d have him if it was the last thing I did, I vowed as he retook his seat.
The wine going to my head, I again parted my thighs. My stomach somersaulting, I loved the danger and excitement of exhibitionism. The very idea of Jane’s husband gazing at my vaginal lip sent my arousal soaring to amazing heights, and I knew that I was hooked on flashing. Sam lowered his eyes and stared at me, obviously stunned as he focused on the fleshy swell of my pussy lip. What was he thinking, I wondered as I chatted about the weather and the gardening I’d been doing. Had he realised that I was deliberately displaying the most private part of my eager body? I’d not worn a bra beneath my blouse because it was such a warm evening, and my nipples were clearly visible through the tight material. He must have thought me a slut, I mused excitedly as my pussy milk flowed and my clitoris swelled. Did he want to fuck me?
‘Do you think Jane will be long?’ I asked him, licking my succulent lips provocatively.
‘I don’t know,’ he replied abstractedly. ‘Er . . . How are you getting on with Dave?’
‘Getting on?’ I echoed. ‘I suppose we’re OK.’
‘Marriage becomes boring after a few years,’ he sighed. ‘Do you find that?’
‘I know what you mean. It’s inevitable, I suppose.’
‘Jane and I are OK,’ he said, unable to drag his eyes away from my pussy lip. ‘I suppose we sort of rub along together.’
‘Dave and I haven’t done any rubbing for ages,’ I quipped with a giggle.
‘You haven’t done any . . . Oh, I see what you mean.’
‘Sex, Sam. I’m talking about sex.’
‘Yes, of course. Do you enjoy sex?’
‘Well, yes. Doesn’t everyone?’
‘I love sex, Sarah. You do know what I’m saying, don’t you?’
‘I think so.’
‘You’re a horny little thing,’ he said, leaving his chair and kneeling before me. Easing my knees apart, he smiled. ‘I’ve always imagined fucking you and . . .’
‘Do it, Sam,’ I breathed, almost ripping my panties off. ‘Fuck me.’
He unbuckled his belt, lowered his trousers and proudly displayed his erect penis, his bulbous knob. I was hungry for sex, and he knew it. The feel of his solid cock entering my tight vagina driving me wild, I lay back on the sofa and parted my legs to the maximum as he impaled me completely on his magnificent organ. My hairless pussy lips stretched around another man’s rock-hard cock, my clitoris massaged by his pussy-wet shaft, I closed my eyes as he increased his rhythm.
I had no idea when Jane would be back, but I was sure that we’d hear her come in. We’d have plenty of time to sort ourselves out and appear innocent after our adulterous act. I’d fuck her husband, my vaginal throat would swallow the spunk that should have been hers, and she’d be none the wiser. Then, we’d enjoy a meal, chat and drink wine, and she’d have no idea that my cunt was brimming with her husband’s spunk. Adultery, I loved it.
‘I’ve dreamed about fucking you, Sarah,’ Sam breathed.
‘You’re a naughty boy,’ I said huskily.
‘And you’re a naughty girl. It was my idea to invite you here this evening. I knew that Jane would be out and . . .’
‘Fuck me, Sam. Just fuck me.’
Had he really dreamed about fucking me, I wondered as he slipped his hands beneath my blouse and squeezed the rounded mounds of my firm tits. Had he wanted me for several years? He’d planned this, I reflected. He’d planned to get me here alone and fuck me. Pinching and pulling on my elongated nipples, he increased his shafting rhythm as I swivelled my hips and pressed my swollen clitoris against the hardness of his thrusting cock. I could feel my cunt inflating and deflating as he fucked me. My lower stomach rising and falling, my long blonde hair cascading over my flushed face, I trembled uncontrollably as the birth of my orgasm stirred deep within my contracting womb. This was amazing, I thought happily. He’d actually planned to seduce me.
Releasing my firm breasts, he lifted my legs high in the air to gain deeper penetration of my young body. My knees pressing against the firm mounds of my heaving breasts, my feet resting on his shoulders, I rocked back and forth as his rock-hard cock shafted me. I could feel my outer sex lips bulging between my thighs, stretched wide apart by the sheer girth of his magnificent cock as he fucked me. This was the fourth to fuck me since Dave had left for Morocco, I mused. Or, had there been more? Derek, Barry, Keith, Sam . . . There’d been at least two other men behind the fence, I reflected. Had I been fucked by six men?
Reaching our orgasms, Sam and I gasped and writhed in our illicit union as my spasming cunt swallowed his fresh spunk. This was sheer heaven, I thought in my sexual frenzy. Six cocks had fucked my sex-hungry cunt. How many more would there be? I’d not had Rob heaving on top of me and spunking my hot cunt – yet. Or, had I? Had Rachel licked and sucked my clitoris to orgasm? Trying not to think about lesbian sex, I gazed at Sam, the sheer satisfaction depicted in his expression as he drained his balls.
My second orgasm erupting before the first had waned, I cried out in the grip of my adulterous ecstasy. I didn’t want another girl, I knew for sure as Sam pummelled my ripe cervix with his beautiful knob. Another girl could finger me and lick and suck me and make me come. But she could never fuck me senseless. I’d experienced lesbian sex, and that was the end of it. I didn’t want another girl, I convinced myself as spunk streamed from my bloated vagina and coursed down to the sensitive ring of my anus. I didn’t want the soft loving, the gentle feminine licking and kissing . . . Did I?
After finally slipping his deflating cock out of my sated vagina, Sam lowered my legs and watched as I squirmed and panted for breath in the aftermath of my incredible climax. Finally coming down from my sexual heaven, I noticed a photograph of Sam and Jane on the mantelpiece. The loving couple, I mused. The faithful, happy loving couple. I’d been faithful for four years. But, had I been happy?
Sam and I had fucked long and hard, and I enjoyed two massive orgasms. But, my sperm-flooded vagina contracting, my clitoris swelling, I’d not finished with him. Moving forward on the sofa, positioning my naked buttocks over the edge of the cushion, I demanded that he fuck me again. His beautiful cock stiffened and he slipped his purple knob between my spunk-dripping inner lips to impale me on it once more. How many times could he come? My young body again rocked with the beautiful shafting. How many times could I come?
Entwined in adulterous lust, the sound of flesh meeting flesh resounding around the room, we gasped and writhed in our illicit act as my vaginal throat again swallowed Sam’s creamy offering. I was exhausted, but I wanted more and more. Could I fuck all six men in one day? Six cocks, six loads of fresh spunk. A swollen knob pumping sperm into my thirsty mouth, a solid cock fucking my arse and another fucking my cunt . . . I was now a fully-fledged slut.
‘You’re amazing,’ Sam said, finally sitting back on his heels.
‘And you’re bloody good,’ I breathed huskily. ‘Do my arse now, Sam. Fuck my arse.’
‘God, you’re an insatiable little nymph,’ he said with a chuckle.
‘She’s a filthy slut,’ his wife screamed, entering the room and glaring at me. ‘And you’re a cheating bastard.’
‘Oh, I . . .’ he stammered, leaping to his feet and pulling his trousers up. ‘I thought . . . I didn’t know you were back.’
‘You filthy whore,’ she spat, slapping my face. ‘Get out of my house.’
I grabbed my panties from the floor, leapt to my feet and stared at Jane. There was devastation reflected in the blue pools of her tearful eyes. Her marriage was in ruins, vows shattered, trust betrayed . . . There was nothing I could say, I knew as I walked past her i
nto the hall and stuffed my panties into my handbag. She screamed at Sam as I opened the front door and left the once marital home. Did I feel guilty, I wondered as I walked down the street? I no longer felt the emotion.
Sperm streamed from my naked pussy and coursed down my inner thighs as I headed home, and I wondered why I’d not been able to control myself. I’d had no intention of fucking my friend’s husband. I’d thought that I’d moved on and was making a fresh start. Once a slut, always a slut. Sam had come on strong to me, I reflected. No, I’d started it by exposing my hairless pussy lips.
Nearing my house, I wondered why Sam hadn’t mentioned my shaved pussy. It had been his idea to invite me round, I mused. Recalling his words, I began to worry. It was my idea to invite you here this evening. I knew that Jane would be out and . . . He’d planned my seduction, he’d known that Jane would be out, he’d not mentioned my shaved pussy . . . He’d planned to fuck me, so he must have also known that Dave wouldn’t be with me. And he knew my telephone number and email address. He only lived ten minutes away from my house so it would be easy enough to slip into the alleyway and hide in the bushes by the fence. And there was something else that Sam had mentioned, I reflected. He had a couple of weeks off. He could have gone to the alleyway during the day to meet me. It all fitted, but . . . Sam, my blackmailer? No, surely not.
Checking my emails the minute I got home, I wasn’t surprised to find nothing from Brian. If Sam was Brian, he’d be rowing with Jane and have no time to send emails. What if Jane contacted Dave? If she told Dave that she’d caught me fucking Sam . . . Shit, I thought, switching the computer off and wandering into the kitchen. I was in real trouble now.
Pouring myself a glass of wine, I checked the kitchen clock. 7.30, half an hour before Dave was due home. I was in a terrible state. My hair dishevelled, spunk oozing from my hairless pussy crack . . . Gulping down my wine, I had an idea. If Sam was my blackmailer, then Jane and Dave would understand that he’d threatened me and I’d had no choice. Stupid bitch, I thought. Sam had the bloody photographs. I jumped out of my skin as the phone rang, and dashed into the lounge.
‘Hello,’ I said, pressing the receiver to my ear.
‘Why?’ Jane asked me. ‘Why, Sarah?’
‘Jane, I . . .’
‘You were supposed to be my friend.’
‘I know,’ I sighed. ‘Has Sam been going out in the evenings?’
‘What?’
‘Sam, has he been going out for walks or . . .’
‘What the hell are you talking about? You’ve just fucked my husband, and you’re asking me whether he goes out for evening walks?’
‘It’s important, Jane. Please, tell me.’
‘As it happens, he goes out for a walk most evenings. He’s just gone out for a walk.’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes.’
‘Look, I know that you’re going to tell Dave about this.’
‘Damned right I am. You’ve fucked my marriage, and I intend to fuck yours.’
‘OK, I understand that. But, before you do, we must talk.’
‘I don’t want to hear your excuses, Sarah.’
‘I’m not going to make excuses. All I’m asking is that we talk before you tell Dave. Can you come round tomorrow morning?’
‘I’ll be there at nine. And, half an hour later, I’ll ring Dave on his mobile and tell him what a dirty little slut he’s married to.’
‘OK, OK. Just give me that half hour, and you can do what you like.’
As she hung up, I hoped that she’d stick to our agreement. I also hoped that I was right about Sam. If he was blackmailing me, if I told Jane that I’d been having an affair with a couple of men and Sam had photographed me and blackmailed me and forced me to have crude sex with him . . . She’d think me a slut for screwing two other men, but she’d realise that Sam had forced me. It was a hopeless plan, but it was the only plan I had.
I was about to take a shower and prepare a meal for Dave when he rang me. He was going to be later than he’d thought, at least eleven if not midnight. He sounded worried, anxious, but I had no idea why. He also seemed to be in a hurry and I didn’t get a chance to say that I’d been round to see Sam and Jane. After the call, I poured myself yet another glass of wine. Taking my glass and the bottle out to the patio, I plonked myself in a chair.
As I watched the evening sun sink below the trees, I thought it odd that Sam had wanted me to go round on the very evening that Dave would be working late. And, now, Dave was going to be even later. Were they in this together? Had Sam called Dave and told him about Jane catching us? Was Dave going to be even later because he’d gone to meet Sam in a pub? Jane had said that Sam had just gone out for a walk. What the hell was going on?
I gulped down my wine and refilled my glass, wondering whether Jane was in on the scam. Perhaps her timely entry had been planned and . . . but what would be the point in that? My mind was going way off track as far as Jane was concerned, but the possibility of Sam and Dave working together was very real. If that was the case, then Dave was a sad pervert. Had he watched me getting fucked by other men? Had he been spying on me when Sam had fucked me?
‘Hi, sexy,’ Barry called over the fence. ‘Drinking alone?’
‘Hi, Barry,’ I sighed. ‘Dave’s working late. What are you up to? Where’s Jilly?’
‘At her mother’s, as usual.’
‘Do you two ever get to see each other?’
‘No, not really.’
‘She’s not seeing another man, is she?’ I said with a giggle.
‘Funny you should say that. I rang the other evening and Jilly wasn’t there. Her mother said that she’d not been round.’
‘Really? Did you ask Jilly about it?’
‘No, I didn’t. There’s probably a good explanation. Anyway, I’m back to work next week. I’m going to miss seeing you during the day.’
‘Barry, this thing about the photograph.’
‘Have you been sent any more?’
‘I’ve been sent several.’
‘What?’
‘When we were on the sofa in my dining room . . . I was sent a photo of us together.’
‘How the hell . . . Christ, Sarah, why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I’m telling you now.’
‘Fucking hell, I thought it was over.’
‘Do you have any idea who it might be?’
‘No, no idea at all. Whoever it was must have been in your garden.’
‘I think I know who it is.’
‘What? Who is it? Tell me who it is.’
‘A friend of mine, Well, her husband.’
‘Christ.’
‘He has my email address and . . . I think Dave’s involved.’
‘Dave? You’re joking.’
‘No, I’m not. I won’t go into the details, but it all fits.’
‘So, what do we do? This man . . . What does he want?’
‘Sex, basically. When you went to the pub with Dave the other evening, did he say anything?’
‘Dave . . . He didn’t go with me to the pub.’
‘What? But, the next day, I asked you whether you’d enjoyed the pub.’
‘He asked me not to tell you, Sarah. I don’t know where he went, but he wasn’t with me.’
‘What did he say, exactly?’
‘We were walking down the road and he said that he had to go and see someone and he’d join me in the pub later. He asked me not to mention it to you.’
‘And, he didn’t join you?’
‘No, he didn’t. He said that it was perfectly innocent but he didn’t want you to know. Shit, there’s my phone. I’ll be back in a minute.’
As he dashed into his house, I felt my stomach churn. The night that Dave had said that he was going to the pub with Barry, someone had fucked my arse through the hole in the fence. It was Dave, I was sure. The whole thing fitted together perfectly. I’d had to be by the fence at seven o’clock, and only a short time before seven Dave had
announced that he was going out with Barry . . . This was a shocking revelation. But, where did Sam fit into the equation? And what about Keith?
I had to make a plan of action, I decided, sipping my wine. First of all, I had to discover whether Dave had been to Morocco or not. He always kept receipts for his business so that shouldn’t be too difficult. Secondly, I had to speak to Sam. If he had been blackmailing me, he might spill the beans now that Jane had caught him with his trousers down. Jane was now in a position to destroy my marriage so, if Sam had been the culprit, he’d hardly carry on taking photographs and threatening me. Jane’s untimely arrival might have been rather fortuitous, I reflected. Sam was in trouble and, if he was in this with Dave . . . Things had certainly changed over the course of the last few hours.
I might be able to turn the whole thing round, I thought, pouring myself yet another glass of wine. If I confronted Dave, said that I’d suspected him of screwing around behind my back and that’s the reason I’d gone with another man . . . I’d had too much wine to think straight. Before I did anything, I’d talk to Jane in the morning. Depending on the outcome of our chat, I’d either confront Dave or . . . I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do. This was a bloody mess, I knew that much.
Wandering into the house as the front doorbell rang, I hoped to God that Jane hadn’t decided to bring our meeting forward. Taking my panties from my handbag, I slipped them on and opened the door. To my amazement, I found myself face to face with the last person I’d expected to see. His hand in his pockets, his dark eyes sparkling, Keith grinned at me. Ushering him in before the neighbours saw him, I realised what a mess I looked. My thighs were sticky with Sam’s sperm and my clothes were crumpled, and I wasn’t in the mood for a chat. Running my fingers through my dishevelled hair, I closed the door and asked him what he wanted.
‘I’ve seen that man again,’ he enlightened me.
Lust Call Page 16
