Seven Sinful Secrets

by 7 Author Anthology

  ****

  Helen slid from her husband onto the bed, her limbs like molten lava. She would have to get her breath back before she could return the favor.

  Carl turned to her, the evidence of her climax glistening on the golden bristles of his morning stubble. "Did you enjoy that?"

  "Yes." She imagined she'd have a smile plastered across her face for the foreseeable future.

  "What did it feel like?" He propped himself up on one elbow to quiz her.

  "Er, good. Great." If he wanted an ego boost she was more than willing to oblige. In fact at this moment in time she would quite happily take out an ad in the papers to celebrate him.

  "No, I mean how does it feel? I'm curious. It's pretty obvious what happens when I come, but all I know is you make these cute mewing noises that get higher and higher. Oh, and your toes curl." Carl's soft laugh warmed her soul, a casual reminder of how right they were together.

  "I guess it's something similar to yours only I don't make quite as much mess. It's like a build-up of pressure, a very nice pressure, so that something eventually has to give. It feels as though I'm bursting at the seams, and a wave of release washes over my body." Words were never her strong point. She was much better with figures. That's why Carl always dealt with the kids' English homework and she stuck to the mathematics.

  "It's nice to know I have that effect on you." They grinned at each other like a pair of love-sick teenagers.

  "Why don't we see what I can do for you?" Helen went to make her move, but Carl bounced up from the bed.

  "Later. This one was all about you. Now you get some rest." He dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead and left her wondering what had just happened.

  She could've lain there for hours trying to work out the sudden turnaround in her husband's behavior, but the morning's exertions soon caught up with her. When she awoke some time later she was still alone and dressed completely inappropriately for a Saturday lie-in.

  The previous sex kitten now couldn't wait to shed her PVC skin and swap it for a more comfortable jeans and sweater combination to search for her elusive other half. She found him in the living room, tapping furiously on the keyboard of his laptop.

  He closed it as soon as she came into the room. "You're awake then?"

  "I didn't mean to disturb you. If you're busy I'm sure there are a hundred and one things I should be doing around the house." She wouldn't ask him outright what he was doing. She shouldn't have to. Even if her worries were increasing with every minute he spent concealing his activities.

  "Not at all. We could go out for brunch if you like?" Carl slipped back into adoring husband mode.

  Sometimes it felt as though he was living a double life, but she didn't want to rock the boat when she was reaping some very nice rewards.

  "I'd love to. I'll just get my coat." For the moment her rumbling stomach took precedence over her suspicious mind.

  "Would you grab my wallet for me? I think it's in the pocket of my black jacket."

  Helen pulled on her coat first and stuck her hand into Carl's to rummage for his wallet. She pulled it out, along with a handful of screwed up pieces of paper. Without thinking, she flattened one out and took a glance at the contents. Along with doodles and scribbled out words she could make out two words on the creased paper, a name. She opened the others until she had a list, a lead on what her husband had been doing. Or who.

  Misty Mountains

  Sheila Blige

  Laurie L'Amour

  It sounded like a who's who of dodgy porn names. She couldn't understand why he needed them. Surely all this was available at the click of a mouse? The tap tapping of his fingers hitting the keys flitted into her memory. What if he was talking to other women over the internet, not watching porn? These could be user names from some seedy dating site.

  Helen's stomach churned as her whole world started to fall down around her. Carl was having an affair. Turning a blind eye to him jerking off to porn was one thing, but she definitely wasn't the sort to ignore her husband having sex with other women, virtual or otherwise.

  She launched the ball of paper at him with such venom it could have been a grenade she was throwing. "What the hell is this?"

  She waited for the explosion and the total disintegration of their marriage.

  Very calmly, Carl opened up the scattered pieces of their life. "I can explain."

  "I bloody well hope so. I've waited long enough for it. Who are they? Women you're seeing behind my back? With names like that they sound real classy. They could be escorts for all I know." Tears burned her eyes, but she was too angry to give in to them. She'd put up with a lot over these past months, and this was the final straw.

  He actually had the audacity to smirk. She'd never hit anybody in her life, but her palm itched to make a connection with the side of his face.

  "What's so bloody funny?"

  "You think I'm having an affair?" He was still wearing that lopsided smile, and she stepped closer so he was within arm's reach.

  "What am I supposed to think? One minute you're too depressed to even get out of bed, and the next you're some sort of Don Juan who spends his time on the computer in between shagging me senseless." She folded her arms across her chest to stem her urge to hit him.

  He opened his laptop and presented it to her as though he was handing her his firstborn. She glanced at the Word document on the screen, but it meant nothing to her.

  "It's research." That was all he offered by way of explanation.

  "Research for what?" Trying to get to the bottom of this was like wading through treacle.

  Carl shifted in his seat, and for the first time he looked as uncomfortable as he should have felt. "I thought I'd try my hand at writing a book. And, well, erotic romance seems to be the 'in' thing these days."

  She read the first paragraph to make sure he wasn't trying to pull the wool over her eyes.

  Ethan Samuels knew how to pleasure women. It was his job, his pastime, and his attempt to fill the huge void in his life. Christy Meyer was only supposed to be a good fuck, another one-nighter before he moved on to the next. So why couldn't he get her out of his head?

  The f-bomb caused a raised eyebrow as Helen tried to marry her mild-mannered husband with his double life as an erotic writer. "What about the names on the paper? Who are these people?"

  "I was trying to come up with a pen name. I didn't think Carl Smith was very inspiring." Helen could've sworn he blushed as he finally shared all of his secret with her.

  It was her turn to smile. "I don't think Misty Mountains will cut it either. So, the great sex, the outfit, were all so you could put it into a dirty book?"

  While the specter of another woman had disappeared from the sidelines, Carl hadn't managed to completely put her mind at ease.

  "No. I won't deny you've given me some great material to work with, but that's not why I've changed. I have a goal, something to work for, and I'm enjoying writing again. It's made me feel like me again." He reached out and grabbed her, knocking her off balance so she fell onto his lap.

  "Well, mister big shot author I think we need to knuckle down to that research so you can write your best-seller." Helen planted her lips on her husband in a smooch that would've put their horny teenage selves to shame.

  Now, with everything out in the open and their relationship stronger than ever, they could start a brand new chapter, together.

  The End

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  Domination Dreams

  Copyright © 2013

  Michaela Rhua

  He couldn't move. The handcuffs attached each side of the headboard rendered him helpless. A sharp slap to his ass stung as a warning against movement. Damn, that would earn him a further flogging. His ass was already burning after the last one. The tingling sensation subsided after the slap, and the cold leather-gloved hand of his Mistress soothed t
he after-burn.

  "Now, let’s really see what this ass can take," she whispered from behind him.

  His cock hardened at the very thought, and he wriggled his ass as an offering to her.

  A shrill noise near his ear awoke Nicholas. Turning over he cursed the alarm that dragged him away from his fantasy. He looked over to the sleeping woman next to him and knew he loved her; only he didn't feel like he did. He wanted the kind of love that would rock his world, tilt it upside down, and throw him out the other end worn out and dazed. It was quiet moments like these that he wondered what it would be like if she reached out and squeezed his cock then climbed on board to help herself to some morning delight. Now that would be a way to put a smile on anyone's face. Only it was all what-ifs. Marissa turned and faced away from him, her hair fanned out on the pillow. The once dark, glossy hair now had grey scattered across her head. He knew she went to the hairdresser to have it done every so often. Why didn't she do it monthly instead? Money had been tight lately, but his recent promotion at work had meant they could afford to spend more on luxuries. Nicholas reached out and stroked her fine strands, careful not to wake her. Lifting a few strands, he brought it to his nostrils and inhaled deeply. The smell of summer fruits from the shampoo she used wound around him causing his cock to harden a little. Inside he longer to grab her hair and kiss her passionately, but he knew she would brush off his advances.

  The second alarm sounded again, warning him to get out of bed as otherwise he would be late for his train into the city. Marissa groaned.

  "Sorry, darling," he said leaning over to place a chaste kiss on her head.

  Then he got out of bed, trying not to wake her further, and walked to the bathroom to prepare for the day ahead.

  Thirty minutes later, he was sitting alone at the kitchen table reading the newspaper and finishing his cereal. Upstairs he heard the shower turn on and knew his wife was getting ready to begin her day as a receptionist at the local doctor's surgery. She only worked a few hours each day then got on with other things. Right now, he wasn't sure what other things she did. Putting his paper down, he looked across at the empty chair across the table. There was a time when they always had breakfast together. When had that changed?

  Finishing the last of his coffee, he placed his dishes into the dishwasher. Then he did something he had not for a little while. He laid the table for his wife, while the kettle boiled and placed a tea bag in her favorite cup, before getting out a selection of cereals for her to choose. He took at look at the table and smiled, then dashed out of the door to catch his train.

  The accounts office was a hive of activity that morning as it was coming to the end of the financial year. There were many reports to check for each department. Nicholas was kept busy all morning, and it was only when he glanced at the clock that he realized it was lunchtime already. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and made his way out. The day was bright, with a slight chill in the air. He enjoyed days like this because it refreshed his mind especially when days were busy in the office.

  After selecting his sandwich, he found a seat at the counter, which overlooked the street—and was next to two women. Nicholas began to focus on his lunch. Damn it. He had forgotten his phone at the office. He usually liked to browse the internet while he ate.

  "So I said to him, why don't we do something different." The high-pitched voice belonging to one of the pair continued. "He said, ‘well, we do it doggy style. What more do you want?’"

  Her friend giggled. "Bloody men! You should try that kit you can get from that online store, you know, where I got Molly's hen night stuff. Hold on. I'll find it." The blonde reached for her phone and began searching.

  Nicholas' curiosity was piqued. Did Marissa chat like this with her friends? Their sex life was good. After all twice a week was supposed to be about the norm. Only he knew deep down he longed for more. However, he was too scared to voice what he wanted, even to himself.

  The women continued chatting and giggling away at the images on the phone. A little while later, the blonde-haired woman went to the bathroom and left the phone on the counter. Nicholas took a quick look and saw the name of the website she was looking at and made a mental note.

  Maybe, just maybe with his birthday coming up. No! He chastised himself. Marissa would never consider it.

  ****

  Marissa got into the car while Nicholas put the bags of groceries into the car. She checked her lipstick in the vanity mirror and smiled at Nicholas when he got in.

  "Why are you being so difficult about your birthday? Usually you have a list of things you want, but this year you say you don't need anything," she said.

  Marissa reached across and stroked his leg, then noticed he tensed under her touch. Has he gone off me? What's going on? She moved her hand away and clasped her hands together on her lap, looking straight ahead.

  "I'll think of something soon, I promise," he said.

  "You better hurry up because it's Saturday now, and your birthday is on Friday. Plus you're away at that conference all week," Marissa said.

  "Okay, okay, if I haven't said what by Monday morning then you can get me that magazine subscription for that business journal," he said.

  Marissa rolled her eyes. He was still the same, no spark, no imagination, and completely dull in the bedroom. All those magazine articles she had been reading about spicing up your sex life only worked if your partner was willing to try something different, and Nicholas certainly was not. He was missionary all the way, and she couldn't be bothered with that. She had given up thinking things would be different.

  ****

  Nicholas sat eating his breakfast. He had packed for his week away last night. The conference was considered a bit of a reward for a job well done. This year the company had selected Nicholas. There were essential training aspects to it, but there was also complimentary dinners and drinks with other accountancy firms. Time to hob-knob and pass your business card around, as well as the possibility of sampling other delights.

  He went to the cupboard and took out the box that had been delivered early Saturday morning. Marissa had been at the hairdresser, so she had not seen it. All weekend Marissa had gone on about his birthday. There was one moment after dinner when he’d nearly told her what he wanted. He resisted the temptation. He did not want to be around when she saw what he had in mind. He stroked the box as he placed it on the kitchen table with the note he had written. Taking a deep breath, he stepped away, resisting the urge to throw it away in the bin. His secret longing would be revealed, and he was not certain how Marissa, his wife of twenty years, would react.

  ****

  The week had been successful in that he had passed around his company cards and possibly secured a lucrative contract. The taxi slowed to a stop, and Nicholas blew out a slow breath. Marissa had been sharp on the phone when he called her to say he was on the way home. It seemed that she had not reacted well to the package he had left behind. It was time to face the music.

  The sun was just dipping behind the hills in the distance. Looking at the neat house that was his home, he saw a small garden that needed a little tidy up. That would be his weekend job. Looking up to the bedroom window, he saw the light on and the blind down. Strange. Maybe Marissa is lying down with one of her headaches.

  "Marissa, you home?" He called out. "Marissa!"

  He heard movement upstairs. It was unusual for her to be in bed at this time. Usually her headaches came on later in the evening, just before bedtime, conveniently. He put his bag on the floor and shuffled through the letters on the side table. Nothing urgent from what he could tell. Nicholas heard more shuffling come from upstairs.

  "Marissa, you okay?" He called again.

  This time he decided to investigate. He climbed the stairs slowly, and as he reached the top, he saw the bedroom door ajar and the light went out. Something strange was going on. He walked to the door and pushed it open.

  "What's going on, Marissa?" he asked.
/>   "Come in, and shut the door," Marissa said with a sharp tone.

  "What?" Nicholas asked.

  "Shut the door," she said.

  The room was completely dark once the door was shut. Then he heard a crackling sound and saw a spark followed by a flame. Marissa stood with her back to him. The candle she lit created a warm glow but still not enough to see clearly.

  "What's going on, Marissa?" he asked again.

  "Did I tell you to speak?" she said with a hard edge to her voice, then lit another candle and turned to face him.

  He gulped at the sight of his wife before him. Clad in a leather basque, fishnet stockings, high heels and black gloves, she was a vision of pure sex. His cock twitched at the sight of what was in her hand. Was that the spanker I ordered?

  "Nothing to say, I see." She spoke slowly and looked him up and down. He felt like she was inspecting him. His brain tried to put together what she was wearing and how she was acting. Nothing made sense. His brain was fogged by desire.

  "It seems you have been keeping a secret from me, you dirty little boy." As she spoke, a smile played on her red painted lips.

  "Well, err … I," he mumbled, feeling like a naughty schoolboy.

  "Yes, Mistress," she said, emphasizing the latter.

  "Yes, Mistress," he said, not believing what was going on.

  She strode closer, and as she did so, her breasts bounced and his mouth watered. He couldn't take his eyes of them. They looked good enough to eat, as did the rest of her. Even after all these years of being married Marissa still looked good. She had curves in all the right places, great breasts, rounded hips, and shapely legs. His cock strained against his zipper.

  She lifted the spanker with red hearts to his face. He gulped. She stroked his face, and then stroked his chest, before resting it on his cock.