The Young Wife

by The Young Wife [Nexus] (retail) (epub)

  ‘Are you all right, David?’ she asked concernedly, and I felt, not for the first time, a twinge of guilty conscience.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I answered, and asked, ‘But what about you? I’ll understand if you have second thoughts.’

  ‘No’, she said, immediately, and caught my forearm in a hard, urgent clasp. ‘I want to do this, just as much as you do.’

  A part of me wished that she had changed her mind, but another part was glad she had remained true to her word. By far the larger part, no pun intended. She almost pulled me into the bright, warm hall, such was her eagerness, and I watched the swaying of her high hem with interest, as she drew me through to the lounge. It was all prepared, right down to a bowl of hot, soapy water, and a set of new shaving gear. I was amazed at her insistence on providing the equipment, but indulged her whim. I was glad at that point, for it occurred to me that I would have looked a bit silly carrying a little holdall up the path.

  ‘Look,’ she said, expectantly, and I turned towards the place she had gestured to and saw a set of black enamelled handcuffs and a blindfold sitting neatly on one patterned cushion of her pretty, girlish sofa. I was a little taken aback, as I had imagined she would just provide some form of fabric tie, and here she was with tailor-made equipment already supplied.

  ‘I had a few strange boyfriends when I was at college, and I never got rid of the stuff,’ she told me, looking embarrassed and pretty at the same time.

  I was amazed at how much she trusted me, and so I resolved there and then to protect her, and prevent the others from coming. Not that I was going to call the whole thing off. I’m not that stupid. A chance like that comes along but once, and I was determined to take it.

  ‘I can’t believe you are doing this for me, Vivian,’ I said, and she visibly puffed with pleasure at my use of her name. I could see that she was a little in love with me, despite her rather hard exterior towards the others. I was confused in what I felt, and she seemed to take this as a product of my sexual confusion, rather than the moral dilemma I was actually facing internally.

  ‘Don’t be afraid, David. I want you to enjoy this,’ she said, and picked up the handcuffs.

  She handed them to me and turned her back, then slowly raised the hem of her dress so that her firm and muscular thighs inched into view. I caught my breath at the sight of her bottom, for she wore, unusually in all the short time I had known her, a tight, lacy, black thong of minuscule proportions. Her high, glossy buttocks bulged out at either side of the thin strip of silky material that ran in a tight arc between them. Her bottom glowed with rich, healthy muscularity, and it shuddered firmly as she drew the dress up her back and over the square, plump mounds of her dimpled shoulders. Her bra was equally black and brief, making the smooth, rippled plain of her back seem broader and firmer than it did in nakedness. Her narrow waist narrowed further, as she stretched to haul the dress over her head, and she stood with it folded shyly over her arms, as she twisted her upper torso round so that she could look over her shoulder at me. Her thick black ringlets were tied up by a shiny, black scrunchie, but some stray wisps had escaped beside her ears, so that the sweet, clean oval of her face was framed by the dark, glossy strands. Her skin shone in the dim glow of the uplights on the walls, and the high heels of her boots made her legs arch attractively in the stance she took. The neat and dimpled backs of her knees showed straining tendons at their outsides, and her buttocks bunched most attractively as she twisted.

  ‘Do you still like my bottom, David?’ she asked coquettishly, as confidently as only a supremely attractive woman can.

  ‘You look delicious, Vivian, and your bottom looks good enough to eat,’ I said, in genuine, breathless admiration.

  She let the dress drop on to the arm of her sofa, and put her hands behind her back in an attitude of complete submission. I took the offering, and stepped up behind her, to her unblemished rear, then snapped the cuffs on to the slender, trusting wrists. She gasped as the second one closed around her wrist, and I looked down between the narrow cleft of her buttocks to see them tighten in anticipation of my caress. My pelvis bumped against her semi-naked bottom, and she shivered with emotion as she turned her head. I kissed the peach-fluffed back of her bowed neck, then bent to pick up the blindfold.

  ‘You will be gentle with me, David?’ she asked, as I put it over her eyes, and I caught a hint of nervousness and apprehension in her tone.

  ‘I’ll never hurt you, Vivian’ I said, and in that moment decided it was true.

  I helped her to kneel, and gently laid her face-down to the floor, with her bottom sticking up defenceless in the air. The cleft had deepened as it opened, and she spread her smooth thighs wide to get a better purchase on the floor. Her back dipped, her breasts bulged out at either side of her flattened chest, and she was ready.

  ‘I’m going out of the room for a moment, and when I come back I will begin, Vivian,’ I told her, with my face close to her ear. She barely breathed a reply from the full-lipped mouth and, when I touched her bare shoulders with a light finger, her body shivered with desire. She seemed to have gone into a trance-like state of acceptance, and I rose stealthily away from her, only to see her adjust herself so that her bottom shifted into an even more upraised position. I walked quietly to the door, and shut it softly behind me, then moved swiftly to the phone. When I spoke to Jessica, she seemed a little disappointed in me, but I was adamant that no one should disturb Vivian and me that evening. She put Anne on, but even her good-humoured sarcasm could not budge me from my fiercely whispered demands.

  ‘Oh. Go on, then,’ Anne sighed finally. ‘It looks like I’ll be going out tonight, after all. I’ll tell Jessie, and she can come with me, if she likes.’

  ‘All right, Anne, I’ll speak to you later,’ were my parting words, and I put the phone back in its cradle as I shifted my attention back to the woman who waited so patiently down the hall.

  My heart was beating heavily, though I knew what to expect, as I opened the door to the room where Vivian crouched. It seemed so different, walking into see her there, face down with her thighs so wide apart. She shifted nervously at the sound of the door closing, and I guessed that she was feeling very vulnerable, very open, as the sound of my muffled footsteps came towards her. I slipped off my shoes, and kneeled behind her upraised rear, so that I was directly behind the parting of her globe. The shiny gusset of her knickers was tight against the undulating contours of her groin, and I could pick out the detail of her most secret parts by the indentations in the smooth seam of black material. It curved out of the open groove to ride high and arched upon her narrow waist, in two taut wings of lacy cloth that arrowed over the plump rondeurs of her smooth, brown hips. The big muscles at the back of her thighs bulged, in the contracted state, above the shiny leather boots that encased her big calves. I ran a finger along the tight, sweaty lines where her knees folded, and a quiver in her inner thighs betrayed her awareness. The little whorl of her navel was stretched into a low hollow, and it fluttered underneath the palm I passed across it. The steam rising from the beaten copper bowl that sat a few feet away was curling up and disappearing inches above the bubbled surface of the water that was its source, and the smell of whatever oils she had added drifted gently over to me, as I stroked the nervous, trembling thighs that she had spread so wide. I touched the mound of swelling knicker that hid her groin, and she shuddered with surprise.

  ‘Relax,’ I said, softly. ‘I just want to touch you.’

  I saw the tense lines of her lower back subside, and her hips pressed out in brazen acceptance of my touch. I rubbed the lightly crinkled skin that betrayed the lines where her cheeks normally folded over the smooth, brown columns of her thigh, and the hollows where her inner bottom ran into the lips of her mound. I ran my hands over the shivering, satiny flanks, and grasped the tight edges of her knickers’ waistband. It formed a tight ‘V on her back, and it was the most extraordinary thing to be allowed to draw it smoothly down over the upraised, gol
den globes of quivering bottom-flesh.

  Slowly the crevice between was exposed, and for the first time I saw the way the insides of her cheeks grew slightly darker towards the crinkling of her bottom’s little hole. The wrinkled purse of her plump cunt gleamed, secretive and tight, below the pulsing seam of her perineum, and she made a little groan when I rubbed a solitary finger down the gently parting line between her outer lips. The stiff, wet nub of her clitoris showed clearly in its hood of pink folding, and her arse swayed sweetly open when I parted the lips with my thumbs to see it more clearly. The knickers, which I had left stretched around the frame of her wide-spread thighs, were then drawn down to her knees, as her hips shifted from side to side in loose anticipation. I leaned over, and drew the basin along the deep carpeting, until it was close beside my right knee. Then I wet the bristles of the ivory-handled shaving brush she had so thoughtfully provided. The popping of the soap container’s lid made her draw in her bottom with surprise, but then she must have recognised it for the sound of what it was, and her bottom was pushed out all the more eagerly for my attentions.

  Slowly then, and firmly, I lathered her pretty golden arse, and pubis, until the whole seam of her groin was white with thickly applied soap. Then I took up the silver, double-bladed razor, and began to carefully scrape the curling hair away from the sweet pouching of her plump cunt. I rubbed her with a towel, then dipped the blades into the warm water to clean its edges. She was silent, and compactly tensed, as I shaved away the fuzz of hair along her outer lips. Again, I dipped the razor’s head, and brought the warm blade’s edge against her naked flesh. Water ran down her inner thighs, and wet her knickers where they stretched against her knees. I rubbed her legs with the towel, and she shivered again. Her pussy-lips showed cleanly, and the pink tongues of her inner lips were plain against the fat little seam they protruded from. I pushed the inner walls of her buttocks apart with the spreading of my fingers and thumb, until the well in which her anus lay was fiat and taut for shaving.

  The little ring was bulging in a relaxed and welcoming way, as I scraped the solitary strands of wispy hair away from its areola of darkened, crinkling skin. I wet a corner of the towel, and washed her arse, and newly shaven cunt, with its perfumed folds. I pushed the corner into her bottom’s muscular ring, just a little, and she moaned at the sensation in that unfamiliar place.

  ‘Oh, David,’ she groaned. ‘That feels so nice.’

  Encouraged by this statement, I placed my thumb against the naked, glistening bud of her clitoris, and rubbed her while I pushed the wet towelling against her crinkled arsehole. Then I put all the implements aside and grasped her smooth cheeks in my hands. I spread them wide, and watched the tightening of her anus in protest at its rude exposure. Then I dipped the wet point of my tongue into its tanginess, and forced the little hole to open again in pleasure. I licked Vivian’s hairless arse and pussy until she was wriggling uncontrollably, at which point I began to cast around for something to lubricate her little arse.

  ‘I won’t be long, Vivian,’ I told her, as I rose from my kneeling position, and rubbed the pouting of her shaven cunt. ‘I’m going to get something to grease your pretty arsehole.’

  She groaned, in sheer arousal, at the thought of what was coming next, and her knees shuffled forwards as she prepared herself for my return.

  A quick survey of the bathroom produced nothing but some body lotion. I squeezed some on my fingers, and its heavy oiliness convinced me that it would do for what I intended. I walked back to her kneeling form, on legs gone weak from desire. My cock was straining heavily against my fly, but I waited to release it for just a little while longer, though I gave it a delicious squeeze as I took my place behind the open bottom. The end was wet with pre-come, and my balls felt as full as a sack of marbles. I squeezed out a lump of thick, white liquid from the bottle into my palm, and the rude noise it made as it exited made me smile, even in my excitement. Without preamble, I smeared it over Vivian’s bald, smooth bottom-cleft, and rubbed it around the taut ravine between her bulging cheeks.

  ‘Oh!’ was all she could say, and her head swivelled on her ear so that her mouth was straining open against the carpeted floor. The sight was so arousing – the red, wet mouth, the pointed tongue – that I could not stop myself from rudely sliding a finger into the tight bud of her spread arse.

  ‘Ahhh!’ she moaned, and her hips pressed out to force my finger further in. I could not wait any longer, for the slippery mouth was grasping so tightly at my finger’s intrusion that I feared that she would come before I got my cock inside her. I swiftly drew it out, and unbuckled my pants. I took them off completely, and stood above her with my cock nodding heavily to the beating of my heart. I squeezed a great dollop of cream along its length, and the coolness of the contact cleared my fevered mind for just a moment. Then I kneeled and, after shuffling forwards to a comfortable position, I laid the hot length against the open seam of her arse. Her perineum was taut and full and my cock slipped easily over it. I grabbed my penis behind the glans, and pulled the foreskin smoothly back to let me rub some cream around its angry, swelling edges.

  I placed the fat, shiny knob against her crinkled, muscular arsehole with one hand as, with the other, I pulled one of her cheeks to the side. I felt the pulsing of her anus as it quivered nervously against my penis’s insistent tip, then I pushed it rudely into Vivian’s hot arse. An inch of swollen, throbbing meat popped into her, so that she groaned, and ground her lips against the carpet.

  ‘Oh, God. It’s so big,’ she moaned, and yet she thrust her bottom up for it in earnest.

  The head was well into her, so I let the shaft go and grasped the slippery bulk of her other bottom-cheek with my freed hand. I spread her wide, and worked the thick length of my cock into the heat of her tight anal passage, with short, insistent stabbings of my hips. Slowly, I shafted her, each stroke taking me deeper into her bottom’s clasping grip, until I was fully lodged within her, and the thick curls at my pubic bone mashed against the shaven crack of her well-spread arse.

  I held her like that for a while, as I rocked my penis gently back and, forth, so that I could admire the way her anus bulged in a smooth ring around my shaft. The heat and clinging of her rectum was sending rockets of beautiful sensation up my spine, and my balls buzzed with near orgasm between my hairy thighs.

  ‘Oh, Vivian,’ I grunted, ‘your arse is so tight and hot.’

  Despite the tightness, and the fullness of her arse, she was encouraged by my praise so much that she rocked her tightness against me, to make me want fuck her harder.

  I took her hint, and started to work my pulsing root in and out of her slippery, squeezing arsehole, until she was squealing with pleasure. Her whole frame was shuddering, and her anus spasmed tight against the in-driving of my greasy tool. I spun over the edge, and the first looping strings of semen erupted from the little mouth of my cock’s head deep into her rocking arse. I heard the faint sucking sounds as I tensed against her, and I could not thrust, but had to just hold myself still as she worked her slippery arse back on to my thick cock. The after-spasm seemed to last forever, and it was a long while before I was able and willing to pull my spent cock from her quivering backside.

  Before I released her bonds, I washed her arse again with the tepid water, and marvelled at its muscular resilience, for it had closed, tight as before, around the secret I had planted so vigorously within her. I lay down on my side, and she sidled up to me, her bottom lowered and her thighs fiat on the floor. She turned her head towards me and, for the first time, our lips and tongues met in a hot dance of lazy passion. I slipped the blindfold up, and stared into the wide, adoring eyes of the woman I had just fucked so completely.

  Her last words before we curled up and dozed off together were, ‘You can do that to me any time you like, David.’

  No wonder I was in love with her.

  Thirteen

  The funeral was a very dismal affair, what with Vivian sobbing loudly at every l
ine the priest spoke, and the hundred or so other assorted relatives hanging round for hours afterwards looking po-faced. The heavy rain didn’t help, either. Even after it stopped, the drips continued, and there was no part of the churchyard which was free from the overhanging branches of trees, so that we all had to stand there while the cold water dropped on to our heads and necks.

  Poor Leo. I doubt if that was how he thought it would all end. An international playboy struck down by a second massive stroke as he peered through his sister’s windows. What he saw I can only guess at, and how he managed to get there, I shall never know. The lady who was supposed to be looking after him was hysterical with guilt. She kept repeating, over and over, that she should have stayed with him. Which was silly, really. How was she to know that he would suddenly find the strength to get out of bed? And as for making his way down the path to Vivian’s place: well, that should have been nigh on impossible. Which makes me think that, all along, he had been pretending to be worse than he was. He must have decided to go and see Vivian, perhaps with the idea of telling her about me and the burglar. Or perhaps he wanted to let her know what Anne and I had done to him. I suppose that’s another thing he took to the grave with him. A very sad affair all round.

  The only bright cloud on an otherwise gloomy horizon was the fact that he died intestate, and therefore, I woke up on the morning after his death and found myself to be a very rich, very young widow. I had won, without having to fight very much at all. The house was mine, along with lots of land in Europe which I hadn’t even seen yet, and the executor informed me, several weeks later, that I was now a millionaire. Several times over, in fact.

  For a month or so after Leo’s death, I was a complete hermit, as I had a lot of things to think through. I asked everyone to stay, including the witches, but only Antonia was willing to remain with me. Vivian took David off with her on a whirlwind tour of the world, and it seemed as if we wouldn’t be seeing either of them for a while. I ended up moving into the guesthouse myself, and let the trio of Anne, Elizabeth, and Antonia take over the house. It was too big for me, and there was a ghost in every room. They protested a little when I moved out, but it was the sensible thing to do. Three’s company, four is something else entirely.