by Ray Gordon
"That's enough!" I cried as he slipped a finger between my skirt and my stomach.
"Enough is never enough," he murmured, my nipple slipping from his mouth as he stood upright and gazed into my eyes, his strong, warm hands clutching the gentle curves of my naked hips.
"Den, please!"
"Please what?"
"Please go!"
"Already? I'll tell you what, let's go through to the lounge and..."
"No!"
"Listen, you can have the magazine. But I want you to pose for me first, like you did for the photographer."
I hesitated. "If I do, you'll give me the magazine and then leave?" I asked shakily. I must have been insane!
"I promise."
Leading him through the hall, I knew that his promise was worthless. He was a monster, an evil man, and he'd stop at nothing to have his wicked way with me. As I stood meekly in the centre of the lounge, he sat on the sofa, grinning, smirking, gazing greedily at my naked breasts. I felt dirty, demeaned.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, aware of my wet nipples stiffening in the cool air of the lounge.
"I was unpacking a tea chest and the magazine dropped to the floor. I thought I recognized the face and when I passed you in the street, I knew it was you."
"So you decided to blackmail me."
"Not blackmail, Jane. We're just having some fun. Harmless fun while Mat's at work."
Perhaps he would give me the magazine after his fun, I pondered, naive though the notion was. Harmless fun while Mat was at work? Catching his gaze, I didn't think he was the sort of man to force himself upon me. My next door neighbour... I couldn't envisage him raping me. After all, he'd said that he couldn't force me to do anything. Recalling a true life story I'd once read in a magazine, I shuddered.
"How much do you value your marriage?" he leered.
I folded my arms across my quivering breasts. "What sort of question is that?"
"A simple question. What lengths will you go to in order to save your marriage?"
The words fell effortlessly. "I'll pose for you."
"How will you pose for me?"
"I'll pose like the magazine picture."
"Go on then, pose for me. Just like you did for the photographer."
Stepping out of my white heels, I tugged my short lycra skirt down my long legs, revealing the triangular patch of red material covering my full sex lips. Succumbing to blackmail was a grave mistake, I knew as I kicked the garment aside. But I couldn't see that I had a choice. If Mat were to see the magazine... It was a mistake I'd make only once, I promised myself.
Den was weak, pathetic in his male weakness, I reflected as I fiddled with my suspender belt. He wasn't a blackmailer at heart - just in the vicinity of his trousers. Most likely he couldn't help himself, control his instinctual male desires. To appease the pitiful creature I'd pose for him, turn my alluring naked body this way and that - then serve him his marching orders.
There'd be nothing he could do, I reasoned, other than show Mat the magazine. But I felt that he wouldn't resort to that. He knew as well as me that, once the pussy was out of the bag, the game would be over. All the time Den had the incriminating photographs, he had a chance to gawp at my naked body. Showing my husband would only serve to wreck that chance. Somehow, I'd get my hands on the magazine and destroy it.
But was I destroying myself? I wondered as I unclipped my suspender belt and reluctantly rolled my black stockings down my legs. Wearing only my panties, a pang of guilt stabbed my conscience as I looked around the lounge. The marital home. Mat's armchair. The coffee table where he placed his glass of scotch every evening... I couldn't do it, I decided. Couldn't bring myself to unveil the most intimate part of my body before this virtual stranger. The room was watching me, my adultery.
"Come on, show me your cunt," Den ordered me crudely, a hint of urgency in his dark voice as he noticed my hesitation. "I want to see where Mat sticks his cock. Show me your juicy cunt."
"Den, I..."
"Remember that I know a hell of a lot about you, your past. You lived in Shropshire until you were thirteen. You then moved to Dorset and..."
"How do you know all this?"
"That's my secret. Now, show me your cunt."
The obscene word battering my swirling mind as I stood before my neighbour, my stomach somersaulting, I knew I'd gone too far to turn back. I'd crossed the bridge, transgressed the threshold of choice. Picturing the photograph in the magazine, I imagined sprawling out on the floor, my legs open, my femininity crudely displayed. Mat had never used the word cunt.
Just this once, the inner voice urged me as I slipped my thumbs between the tight elastic of my panties and my curvaceous hips. Just this once. My trimmed blonde pubes coming into view as I eased my panties down, I hung my head as shame and guilt engulfed me.
"Keep going," Den prodded coarsely as he moved forward in his excitement on the sofa. "That's it, pull your knickers down like a naughty little girl and show me your cunt."
Taking a deep breath, I lowered my panties to my knees and stood upright, my pink sex crack clearly visible beneath my sparse pubes. My scant scarlet shield dropping to my ankles, I kicked the garment aside, again imagining posing for my lecherous spectator. The degradation, the humiliation of lying on the floor with my legs wide open... I knew I couldn't do it.
"Very nice!" Den breathed, focusing his lustful eyes on my inner petals, protruding alluringly from my moist sex valley. I winced, closing my eyes as I sensed his gaze burning into my most intimate place. Only Mat had ever seen me there, feasted his eyes on my vaginal smile. But now? Now, like the magazine photographs, my once sacrosanct temple was blatantly on display, crudely exhibited. Was I a tart? I felt so.
"Stand with your feet as wide apart as you can," Den ordered me, his prurient gaze glued to my sex slit. Trembling, I parted my feet, knowing that my secret valley was opening, my moist inner folds unfurling. Humiliated as I sensed my lubricious juices bubbling between my pussy lips, I prayed that he wouldn't take the sentient sex fluid as a sign of arousal.
"Open your cunt lips," he instructed me with no hint of compassion, his arousal obvious by the massive bulge in his tight jeans. "I want to see inside your cunt."
"Do you know how you make me feel?" I asked shakily.
"Good?"
"Evil."
"Then be evil!" he chuckled.
My fingers trembled as I moved my hands to my lower stomach. Then, as if suddenly waking from a dream, I realized what it was I was doing. "Go on, pull your cunt lips wide apart and show me your cock hole," he breathed as I snatched my hands to my sides. "You don't want Mat to discover your sordid past, do you?"
Through my haze of horror I became aware of a car pulling up in the driveway. Almost fainting in my fear, my iniquity, Den leapt up from the sofa and dashed to the window. "Christ, it's Mat!" he cursed through gritted teeth, throwing me a parting malevolent leer before dashing from the room. I stood motionless in my horror, frozen to the spot as the backdoor slammed shut and my blackmailer made his escape. Mat's key turning in the front door lock, I was impelled to look about me, at my skirt and stockings strewn across the lounge floor.
"Jane!" Mat called in his familiar homecoming, closing the front door.
"In here!" I returned shakily, snatching up my clothes.
"Christ, what are you doing standing in the lounge starkers?" he gasped as he entered the room to confront my naked, curvaceous body.
"I... I was about to take a shower when... What are you doing home?" I blustered, tugging my skirt up, veiling my flurried pussy.
"I had to go and see a client. He's local so I thought I'd call in for coffee. Are you all right, Jane? Your face is very flushed."
"Yes, I'm fine."
"Why undress in the lounge?"
"I thought I heard the phone and..." Remembering that my bra and blouse were in the kitchen, I forced a smile. "I'll go and put the kettle on," I said, brushing past him.
The ma
gazine had gone, I noticed as I hurried into the kitchen and slipped my blouse on. Den had taken the incriminating evidence, no doubt to return and have me strip naked again. Henceforth, I reflected intuitively, the nightmare could only get worse.
As Mat appeared in the doorway, suspicion reflected in his brown eyes as he scrutinized me, I did my best to appear cool and calm. I daren't fuel his suspicion by showing telltale signs of the anxiety and guilt that were flooding my mind, drowning me. Forcing the picture of Den's mouth engulfing my nipple to the dark corners of my mind, I took a deep breath as Mat sauntered over to me.
"Why is your bra over the chair?" he asked suspiciously as I filled the kettle.
"It's to be washed. You don't mind if I wash my bra, do you?" I smiled with an air of innocence that surprised me.
"No, no of course I don't mind."
Mat perched himself on the edge of the table as I took two cups from the cupboard and opened a jar of Nescafe. I felt his eyes boring into me as I spooned coffee into the cups - boring into my soul. But there was no way that he could read it, I reasoned with myself. He'd never know of my illicit striptease act - that I'd showed Den my cunt. Cunt. I hated the word.
I'd always dressed provocatively for Mat, ensuring that he glimpsed my scanty panties as I made myself comfortable in the armchair, allowing him a peek of my braless nipples as my blouse fell open. But that was our secret, our private game. Not once during my marriage had I ever dreamed of displaying my naked body to another man.
Recalling my treacherous disrobing as the kettle boiled, Den's wide eyes as I'd unveiled my vaginal crack, a mixture of fear and remorse overwhelmed me. Guilt swamping me as Mat stood behind me, holding my hips and kissing my neck, a shudder ran down my spine. For five years I'd been faithful, never dreaming about other men, let alone... But I'd not sullied my body, I consoled myself. I'd not allowed another man to touch me. Never in a million years would I do that! As Mat slipped his hands up my skirt and cupped my naked buttocks, I jumped.
"Den!" I cried, immediately realizing my mistake.
"Den?" Mat echoed as I turned guiltily to face him.
"Den, he... I spoke to him earlier. He was in his front garden."
"What did he have to say?"
"Not a lot, he just mentioned the weather. There's your coffee."
"Thanks. Why mention his name?"
"I was only going to say that I'd seen him."
"Oh, right. So, what have you been up to?"
Was he testing me? No, of course he wasn't! He was only making conversation, asking what I'd been up to. What had I been up to? My stomach sank as I imagined Mat walking into the lounge and discovering me standing naked before another man. God, what the hell had I done?
What I'd done was immoral, wrong, and would haunt me forever, I knew. But I'd had no choice. It wasn't as if I'd stripped of my own free will, displayed my feminine intimacy out of lust. Blackmailed, forced, coerced... The whispered words comforted me. I was innocent in my guilt.
"I have to go up north tomorrow," Mat said, sipping his coffee. "I'll be away for the night, I'm afraid."
"Away?"
"It can't be helped."
"You've never had to stay away before."
"There's a problem with... I won't bore you with the details. You'll be OK alone, won't you? I mean, it's only for one night."
"Yes, yes I suppose so."
Alone? If Den were to discover that Mat was away for the night, I wouldn't be alone! But I didn't have to answer the door to Den, did I? With the house locked, the curtains drawn, I'd be safe enough while Mat was away. Again, I pictured myself naked, standing before my neighbour, displaying my intimacy. But it had only been once, and that was the way it was going to stay. I'd not succumb to my blackmailer's demands again.
"You say the phone rang?" Mat asked.
"I thought I heard it ringing when I was upstairs."
"Why not answer it in the bedroom? Why come all the way downstairs?"
"I... I wanted to check the back door before I had a shower, I thought I'd left it open."
As Mat finished his coffee and placed his cup in the sink, I caught his gaze again. He seemed different, as if he knew of my wicked indiscretion. But he couldn't know, could he? I was different, I decided. Different in my guilt. I pondered on the word guilt. Blackmailed, forced, coerced... I'd stripped before my neighbour. Whatever the reason, I'd laid myself bare to a virtual stranger. I was guilty.
"I'd better be going," Mat smiled, kissing my cheek. "I'll see you this evening."
"All right. I thought we'd have steak."
"That'll be nice. I'll pick up a bottle of red wine on the way home. About seven, OK?"
"OK."
As Mat drove off, I became acutely aware of my bare pussy. Alone in the house, I felt vulnerable, completely defenceless. Den would hear Mat's car back out of the drive and... Locking the back door, I dashed into the lounge to retrieve my panties and cover my nakedness. But I couldn't find them.
"Shit!" I cursed, my mind swirling with a million thoughts. Carole would be arriving for coffee soon and I hadn't even done the washing up. But dirty plates were the least of my worries. Dirty tricks, more likely! My panic rising, I returned to the kitchen and checked the back door again. It was locked - I was safe, secure. I had to calm down and relax.
Tossing my bra into the washing machine, I looked about me feverishly. There was no evidence of my disgusting disrobing, no telltale signs - only dreadful images of my exhibitionism careering through my tortured mind. Carole would never know, Mat would never know - my sordid secret was safe. But where were my panties?
Taking a deep breath to compose myself, I stood at the sink to finish the washing up, desperately trying to push the morning's events to the back of my mind. I dropped a glass as the phone rang, nearly jumping out of my skin as it smashed loudly in the sink. "God, I'm a nervous wreck!" I breathed, dashing into the hall and lifting the receiver.
"Jane, it's me." Den's voice was dark, menacing. "I see Mat's gone."
"Yes, but he'll be back in about ten minutes."
"No, he won't. I've been thinking, why don't you come round and see me?"
"No! Mat will be back soon and I have a friend coming round for coffee."
"OK, there's no rush. I'm only next door, so we'll have plenty of opportunities to..."
"You took the magazine. You said that you'd..."
"For safekeeping, Jane. I mean, we don't want Mat to see it, do we? We don't want him discovering your sordid past."
"You told me you'd give me the magazine."
"I have your panties here. They smell nice, a fresh, girlie aroma."
"Den, I'm warning you..."
"And they're beautifully stained!"
"Den, if you... There's the doorbell, it'll be my friend."
"I'll ring you later, my horny little sexpot."
"No!"
Shakily replacing the receiver, I opened the front door, forcing a smile as I invited Carole in. "Are you OK?" she asked, immediately realizing that something was wrong as she stepped into the hall.
"Yes, of course!" I laughed. A nervous laugh.
"You look very flushed."
"I'm fine. Come through and I'll put the kettle on."
I tried to compose myself as she made herself comfortable at the kitchen table. I was showing signs of anxiety, guilt, and I didn't want her asking any searching questions. But it was obvious that something was badly amiss. My face burning, my hands trembling, I was far from my usual jovial self. Twinkling in the light, the glass shrapnel winked at me from the sink as I filled the kettle.
"I've not been feeling too well," I finally offered in way of an explanation.
"I thought you looked off colour. Have you got a temperature?"
"Just a tummy bug, I think. So, how are things with you?"
"Fine. John's up for promotion again, which is good."
"Do you reckon he'll get it?"
"Yes, I think he..."
"Ha
ve you ever been unfaithful?" I thought aloud, wishing I hadn't.
"Unfaithful? Why do you ask?"
"I... I heard something on the radio about infidelity," I lied. "It was quite interesting."
"No, I haven't. There was a friend of John's who fancied me, but that was a long time ago. Nothing happened, of course. Have you?"
"Have I what?"
"Been unfaithful."
"Er... No, no of course I haven't!"
Had I? Intercourse was the criterion I'd always held to define unfaithfulness, infidelity. Since marrying Mat, I'd not had intercourse with another man. I'd never allowed another man to touch me. Den had looked - but not touched. I hadn't been unfaithful - had I?
Passing Carole a cup of coffee, I scrutinized her. In her early twenties, with long, black glossy hair, she was extremely attractive. Would she have stripped before her lewd neighbour? I wondered, eyeing her firm breasts swelling her tight blouse. In the same situation, would she have complied with her blackmailer's demands? Probably not. Definitely not!
"Have you ever done anything you regret?" I pursued, turning the radio off and sitting opposite her.
She frowned, cocking her head to one side. "How do you mean?"
"Well, anything you'd rather John didn't know about."
"No, I don't think so. What are you getting at?"
"Oh, I don't know. I've been thinking, that's all."
"What's happened, Jane? There's something wrong, I can tell."
"A tummy bug, that's all."
"No, it's not that."
"I was just thinking back to my... I suppose we've all done things we'd rather not remember."
"There was this lad..." She hesitated, letting out a giggle as she obviously recalled something wicked. "Well, as you said, we've all done things we'd rather not remember."
"It's funny, isn't it? I mean, the things life throws at you out of the blue..."
"Are you OK with Mat?"
"Yes, never better."
OK with Mat? Yes, I decided, I was OK with my husband. What had happened earlier that morning would never happen again, I promised myself for the umpteenth time. No matter what Den threatened or did, never would I demean myself like that again. Never would I display my naked body to another man, no matter what the consequences.
