Seven Sinful Secrets

by 7 Author Anthology

  Even as Daisy wriggled to get comfortable the door opened, and the music started. She almost groaned out loud. How cheesy could it get? At least it wasn't “The Stripper”, but Adam Ant and “Stand and Deliver”? That was her parents’ era not hers.

  The man who came through the door made her heart beat faster, and her mouth went dry. He was dressed in black leather trousers that seemed like a second skin, and a mask through which only his eyes showed.

  Daisy bit her lip. She had to stop imagining Alex everywhere. This was a stripper; Alex was a stockbroker. She was in a strip club; he was meeting clients. Alex claimed he had two left feet; this guy could move. Around and over her it seemed.

  As her friends whooped and hollered, Daisy found herself mouth to cock with only a layer of leather between them. She licked her lips and was damned sure she heard him groan. As he straightened and brought her to her feet, Daisy was convinced she scented a hint of a familiar citrus aftershave and moved in closer.

  "Don't you bloody dare." The savage undertone was spoken in a voice so familiar to her she nearly blurted his name out. "Play along for your friends."

  Her friends, including Ruthie, were now standing on the chairs swaying and singing at the top of their voices. Daisy stiffened as Alex—she was sure it was him—lifted her onto a table in the center of the room and grinned. His hands went to the waistband of the trousers…

  "Stand and Deliver," the girls shouted. "Your money or your life … get ‘em off. Get ‘em off." Daisy grinned. She would swear he'd paled under the mask. Some stripper he was if five women, one of them his wife, could have that effect. For one moment she wondered if it was a set-up, but then she could never imagine Alex agreeing to anything like this. Then again she could never see him stripping either.

  "Go on show us what you're made of, boyo." Milly always became more Welsh the more she drank.

  Daisy leaned forward. "Go on, get it over and done with, but face me, eh?" she whispered. She held her arms out and took hold of his shoulders and did her best to sway with the music. "Carry me off into the sunset, big boy…" The last she shouted to the delight of her friends.

  The look in Alex's eyes though the tiny slit on the mask was one hundred percent gratitude. He bowed. Gripped either side of his trousers and pulled. They fell away, and he was left in a tiny g-string thong. Before any of her friends had a chance to demand he turn and face them, Daisy fell into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. She knew her skirt would hide his cock, now doing its utmost to come out and say hello.

  She waved to her friends. "He's standing and gonna deliver, girls. Enjoy your evening. I'll enjoy mine." She giggled at the looks of horror and astonishment on their faces as Alex left the room as fast as he could. She held on as best she could when her ass rested on a long hard prick.

  Alex walked somewhat stiff legged along a narrow corridor and into a room at the end.

  "Kick the door shut, please. It'll lock." Daisy did as he asked and let him slide her down his body. How she didn't grab the g-string and ping it onto his dick she didn’t know. Instead she walked across the room and turned to face him at a distance. He was too damned everything to be close to him and get angry. Anger was what she needed at that moment, not this awful, gut-wrenching what the fuck feeling.

  "What the hell is this all about?" She'd always believed attack was the best form of defense. "I didn't know I was being brought here. You knew you were. So who isn't being honest, eh? You told me you're a fucking stockbroker. What do you stock and break? Or should that be stroke and break, eh? Hearts? Dicks? Oh no maybe not. Shall I do that for you? Practice on your cock? It'll be my pleasure."

  She'd never seen him move so fast or with so much grace. Even his lack of clothes and the half mask didn't detract from his power. If anything they enhanced it.

  "The only practicing on my cock will be with your mouth or pussy, love, well, and your hands. Now let me explain. It's so simple as to be laughable." He pushed her onto the long velvet settee and turned to the sideboard where bottles and glasses waited to be used.

  "It'd better be." Daisy shifted on the seat to get into a comfortable position, and crossed her legs into a position of studied elegance. In truth she'd sat like that so he wouldn't see her knees knocking.

  Alex grinned and popped the cork on a champagne bottle with ease. He poured two glasses and passed one over.

  "To my lovely wife, whose calmness under stress is amazing."

  "And to my husband, who carried on even when his secret was discovered."

  "Well as to that…" He sipped his champagne.

  Daisy could hardly breathe. Her skin was tight and felt like a column of ants were attempting a route march over it. She waited, outwardly composed, and inside a mass of quivering jelly.

  "When I was at uni, a friend of mine and I won on the horses. We both came from families who had money but were insistent we made our own way in the world. We both loved racing and decided to speculate. Due to our background we knew what to look for and only backed horses we thought we'd win on. Of course we didn't always, but by the end of our second year we had enough money to buy this building. It housed a very run-down and seedy night club."

  "Wow, I waitressed." In spite of her annoyance and need to know more, she was impressed.

  He laughed. "Oh I did my fair bit of barman, waiter, and bell hop. So then we had to decide what to do with the building. After one god-awful night on the tiles we decided that a seedy nightclub was not what was needed here. It needed to be something more upmarket. Hence this private strip club was born. Both Tony and I worked here through uni, and to be honest had a ball … and kept our balls. Once we graduated, I went into the city, and Tony ran this full time. I'd help him out from time to time, but last month told him no more. I was a happily married man. Because I am, you know. You're all I want."

  She nodded. She knew he was sincere.

  "And I you. So tonight?"

  "Tonight was a favor. Tony was going to do it, because Ruthie is a friend of his wife. She wanted someone a bit more," he hesitated, "more upmarket. Then Rissa, his wife went into labor two months early, so I got the frantic phone call. His other strippers were all busy, and he didn't want to let down a friend of his wife. His in labor, very snarky, threatening to cut his nookie off forever wife. You can imagine how I felt when I saw who I was stripping for."

  Daisy put her glass down and went to stand next to him. "And how I felt was probably the same. But now? Well, don't say your stripping days are over."

  "No?” He sounded puzzled.

  She shook her head and hooked her fingers under the sides of his g-string. His explanation had been simple but sincere, and the rush of relief when she realized it was a one-off occasion to help his friend was overwhelming. She quashed a giggle when her damp knickers showed her that relief wasn't the only thing that had rushed over her. "Oh no, but let's just say from now, all your stripping will be done in private, with an audience of one—me."

  The End

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  Bit on the Side

  Copyright © 2013

  Jorja Lovett

  "Go on top." Carl's breath was hot on Helen's lips with his request.

  As their bodies were already joined quite snugly together she saw no reason to disrupt the proceedings now.

  "Nooooo. You'll see all my wobbly bits." She hoped her laugh hid the real insecurities behind her reluctance. It had been so long since they'd had the time, privacy, or most recently, the inclination to be intimate, and her figure had surely changed. After twenty-four years of marriage, she no longer resembled the perky eighteen-year-old he'd first met.

  "It's your wobbly bits I want to see."

  She shrieked as he rolled over, taking her with him so he got his wish. With her husband trapped firmly between her thighs she should have had the power to dictate the next move, but she was so busy tryi
ng to keep her stomach sucked in, Carl took over.

  He grabbed hold of her hips and tilted his pelvis to push deeper inside her. All thoughts of trying to maintain her perfect pose went out the window as he filled her with his thick cock. She gasped and braced herself on his chest, letting her palms skim over his muscular torso. Despite his work woes of late, Carl certainly hadn't let himself go.

  He sat up and latched his lips around one of her taut nipples. Lately she'd worried they were for decoration only, but as he gave them the kiss of life he managed to resuscitate other parts of her, too. A sudden outpouring of appreciation saturated her pussy, and Carl took it as an invitation to fuck her just that little bit harder.

  "I don't know what's come over you." Whatever had turned him from the moping miserable mess he'd become since his redundancy into her hot, horny husband she was truly grateful.

  "You, hopefully." The glint in his mischievous green eyes would've been enough to turn her insides to liquid, but then he hooked a finger inside her and coaxed her into total meltdown.

  Helen leaned forward, grabbed hold of the headboard for support, and rode her husband for as long as her hips would keep up with his. Carl rubbed his thumb against her clit and thrust again, filling her so completely she couldn't hold on. Like the first rain after a long drought, her orgasm brought relief to every part of her. It flooded her channel with pleasure denied her too long, alleviated the tension in her body after months of worry, and put her mind at ease about the perceived problems in her marriage.

  Carl's cries echoed her own as he poured the love she feared lost, into her. For the first night in a long time, Helen soon drifted off into a deep, contented sleep.

  ****

  Only a full bladder prevented her from sleeping right through. With some reluctance she opened her eyes and sat up. Carl's side of the bed was empty, the sheets cold. She frowned and rescued her forgotten nightshirt from the floor. Even now that Gillian had married and Ethan was at university, she couldn't bring herself to parade around the house in the altogether.

  For years, both she and Carl had looked forward to the time when their kids moved out, pursued lives of their own. So far, those anticipated carefree days had been eaten up by despair over Carl's redundancy and his fruitless search for employment. They would get through their financial troubles somehow, but it was her husband's state of mind that concerned her.

  His insistence that he had somehow failed her had dented his self-esteem to such an extent his libido had virtually all but disappeared. Until tonight. And she was almost afraid to question what miracle had brought him back to life, or what on earth he was doing at ridiculous o'clock.

  After a quick trip to the bathroom, Helen followed the faint glow of light coming from under the living room door. She wasn't sure what she might walk in on, but the pad of her bare feet on the wooden floorboards would give him fair warning of her approach. When she opened the door, she half expected to find him waist deep in used tissues watching some low rent, X-rated adult channel on the TV.

  Instead, he was perched on the end of the sofa with his laptop balanced on his knee, obviously so engrossed in whatever he was doing he didn't hear her coming. He snapped the lid shut, making her wince. Lucky for both of them he was wearing his boxers.

  "I hope I didn't wake you." The sheepish expression and inability to look her in the eye confirmed he was doing something he shouldn't.

  "You didn't. I just wondered where you'd got to." The porn on its own wouldn't necessarily upset her, but if watching it alone was the way Carl chose to get aroused it took away some of the magic they'd shared earlier tonight.

  "I, uh, couldn't sleep." He got to his feet and met her at the door, turning off the light and ushering her back to bed.

  "Is everything okay?" To Helen, there was nothing worse than keeping secrets. It had taken him weeks before he'd confided in her that they were planning redundancies at the factory, bottling up his anxiety until he'd made himself ill. In her mind, whatever he was up to behind closed doors could set them right back to those bleak days of being kept in the dark.

  "Yeah, yeah. Go back to sleep." They both got back into bed, and Carl pulled the covers up around them, tucking Helen in like a cosseted child.

  For someone who purported to have trouble getting to sleep Carl's breathing soon settled into the regular pattern of someone dead to the world. His soft snores drew Helen's gaze across the pillows to watch her husband. There was no frown etched deep across his forehead, nor did his restless body toss and turn in the sheets the way she'd witnessed in the past. His short blond hair framed his line-free face like a halo, and he lay prostrate, his limbs relaxed and unmoving. Tonight, he looked at peace.

  She wished she could say the same for herself.

  ****

  Next morning their breakfast was interrupted by the insistent ringing of the doorbell.

  "Sign here please." The sullen postman handed Helen a large parcel while she scribbled her name in haste.

  Unfortunately, the package wasn't for her. "Carl, you've got a delivery."

  Curiosity almost got the better of her as she squeezed the thick envelope, but Carl whipped it from her hands before she could investigate any further. He disappeared into the bedroom clutching it with untold excitement.

  "What is it?" She couldn't stop herself from following him, wondering if he would share with her or file it away with his other secrets.

  "Something for you." He grinned at her and ripped the packet open like a kid on Christmas morning.

  "For me?" It wasn't her birthday or their anniversary, and he didn't usually buy her presents for no apparent reason. She peered over his shoulder hoping to catch a glimpse of the contents and praying this wasn't some sort of guilt gift.

  "You don't have to wear it. I just thought … I hoped…" Carl held up a bubblegum pink PVC outfit, which, on closer inspection seemed to be some sort of masseuse's outfit. The spark dimmed in his eyes the longer she took to respond.

  "You want me to dress up for you?" She picked up the matching black stockings topped with a girly pink bow. In other circumstances she probably wouldn't have hesitated to add a little spice to the bedroom, especially when he was so keen. But, after catching him last night she felt like an extra drafted in to replace whatever porn Queen had got him going last night and didn't finish him off.

  "You know, maybe some night we could watch a dirty movie together." If only he would include her she wouldn't have a problem with it.

  "Sure. But right now I'm more interested in seeing you in this." He let his eyes roam over her with such hunger she had to check she was still dressed.

  A tingle zipped through her body, tightening her nipples and creating a surge of desire to pool between her thighs. Whatever the motive behind this game of dress-up they both needed the resolution. She took the outfit and gave him her best seductress look.

  In a sudden display of courage she stripped naked in front of him. Her legs trembled as she stood there exposed, wobbly bits and all. Like it or lump it, this middle aged brunette was his reality. Carl climbed onto the bed, propped himself up on the pillows and watched, nostrils flaring, as she pulled on the PVC. She zipped it up three quarters of the way, leaving an ample display of her natural cleavage on show.

  "Come here." It certainly sounded like Carl was directing his own porno as he beckoned her over, but the commanding tone of his voice made her quiver all the more.

  Helen crawled over the bed on all fours confident she looked as sleek and sexy as the costume suggested. Indeed, she was certainly enjoying the empowerment accessory that apparently came with it. She straddled her husband, fully aware she was exposing her nether regions as the mini-dress rode up her thighs. Carl sucked in a shaky breath.

  Like any good wife she attempted to relieve the stress the crotch of his jeans was suddenly under. She began to unbutton his fly, but he reached down to stop her.

  "That's not what I want."

  "Then what?" Her head was a muddle
of mixed messages and guesses about was expected of her. Things would be so much easier if he would spell it out in simple terms.

  "Sit on my face."

  "Pardon?" She almost laughed in his face at the crude, but very clear instruction.

  Without another word Carl clamped his hands on either side of her bare thighs and shuffled down the bed beneath her. She caught sight of his wicked grin before he disappeared between her legs. Her breath hitched, and her pulse picked up a beat as she waited for the unknown.

  The first lap he gave her with his tongue sent sparks dancing across her skin, the intimate touch warm, soft and surprising. This new position took Helen far from her comfort zone, and she fought hard to cling on to her sexual power. The conservative side of her wanted to bury her face in her hands and hide away under the covers as though her sexuality was something to be ashamed of.

  She guessed they hadn't explored each other as much as they should have over the years. Perhaps that also meant they still had room in their relationship to grow as a couple, and she would embrace that with open arms. Besides, as he parted her slit with the tip of his tongue her legs turned to jelly, and she couldn't move even if she'd wanted to.

  Carl slipped his palms to cup her buttocks, getting some sort of purchase to plunge deep inside her. Helen balled her hand into a fist and bit down on it as he tunneled into her core. Why hadn't they done this before? From this angle she found the oral stimulation all the more intense, helped no doubt by the primitive sounds Carl was making as he snuffled against her entrance.

  She spread her legs apart as wide as she could to give him further access and surrendered to his mastery. He washed his tongue around her clit, creating little circles of pure pleasure. Helen's body pulsated, throbbing with the need to spill onto his lips. Carl increased the tempo of his ministrations, pushing her onward in her climb to the summit. Only when he sucked on her hood did she make the final leap into oblivion. She cried out as the floodgates opened, and she came over her husband's face.