Shared Secret

by Ed Bemand

  If she really had to choose, it would be girls that she wanted to have more opportunities to play with. Men were great fun and she loved being fucked and feeling them cum, but women just understood each other better and no man could ever give a woman an orgasm as intense as another woman could if she was willing to take her time over it.

  Her first experience of sex with a girl had been her friend Claire, back when they’d been sharing a flat together. They hadn’t lived together for long but it seemed like there was something between them. Of course Maria had kissed plenty of girls by then, but it had all been strictly above the waist.

  She regretted it now, mostly because of how things had ended. Claire had been in love with her, wanted her all for herself, Maria had still wanted more back then. Sex with Claire had been fun but she couldn’t pretend that it was more than an experiment.

  If it had just been the sex, Maria could have imagined keeping in touch with Claire forever as a way to pass a few stolen moments while getting on with their lives. That wasn’t what Claire wanted though, so it had to end. That meant Maria had to move of course, but the way things were after she’d told Claire it was over she was glad to get a few miles between them.

  She just wished that she could find a man that knew how to touch her just like that. Claire had seemed to know Maria’s body and sensitive spots better than she knew herself. Maybe men couldn’t do it. You needed a pussy to know how to touch one like that.

  After Claire, Maria stuck with guys for a while, then Charley happened. They met at a party. Maria was drunk and feeling lustful and Charley was impossible to refuse. She was an absolutely gorgeous red-head who was deliciously kinky and loved to inflict exquisite torture on Maria that she just couldn’t resist. Just thinking about it was enough to make her pussy tingle.

  Charley had liked to tie her up in elaborate ways. Maria had never realised before just how much fun being immobilised could be. Her hands were tied to her ankles, the rope then looped around her midriff and buried between her thighs so she couldn’t move properly and if she reached too far it got hard to breathe. Of course, if she reached too far the other way, the rope rubbed roughly at her pussy. It wasn’t a nice, smooth kind of rubbing. It was prickly and sore.

  Charley had known how to really hurt Maria’s nipples and she had loved it. One evening when she had been feeling excessively possessive Charley had gone so far as to pierce Maria’s nipples. She’d used a sterilised needle and pushed it right through the tender flesh. She wasn’t trying to attach anything to them that time, all she wanted to do was leave Maria tingling and sore afterwards so that she couldn’t forget who had done it to her.

  Charley had seemed to draw all of her pleasure from the predicaments that she could put Maria into. Even after being given the most extraordinary orgasms by her, Maria had never seen Charley fully naked or tasted her pussy. Maybe that was why the orgasms had been so good. Charley drew her pleasures from doing things to people and Maria enjoyed having them done to her. It was a perfect match.

  Not that Maria had ever been tempted to convert to girls full time. Charley had been a special case. She couldn’t imagine that there were many other women like her. She certainly hadn’t met anyone else like that.

  It was a year or so after Charley that she met Alex. Trevor had been sort of an attempt to settle down with someone a bit more normal. Unfortunately he’d been too much of an insufferable prick for it to work out.

  At least Alex was different. He was a bit of a tosser but she loved him. She’d made that choice when they got married and she was trying to stick by it. He wasn’t what she’d imagined ending up with, too quiet, never any idea what the hell was going on in his head when he stared blankly into space. She was probably better off not knowing.

  Alex never seemed to be quite sure how to just bend her over and fuck her. The spontaneity and passion of fucking could get her wet a lot more easily than the half-arsed foreplay that seemed to be his sexual signature. Fiddling idly with her anatomy was never as effective a way of getting her going as just getting on and doing things.

  She had always laughed at the idea of women needing to fake orgasms for men’s sake but she had found that it helped him to just do it if she made encouraging noises. All the faffing around didn’t do a lot for her.

  It was much easier for her to play the slut with someone that made it clear what they expected of her. Being nervously asked if she “wanted” to suck someone’s cock wasn’t the same as being told to do it and like it. She liked her sex to be focussed and clear, for the other person to have the strength to be decisive. To know what they wanted from her and to know how to get it. Being a vessel of pleasure’s satisfaction was a wonderful thing for her.

  It was such a pity that Alex just didn’t quite get that. He was a good man and she loved him. She was devoted to him. Marriage was serious. She had always hoped that over the years he would have been able to learn how to give her what she needed, how to take his pleasures with her with more confidence.

  It wasn’t something that she could ask for. That would have diminished the whole thing. The point was for the other person to be able to take the initiative and just do it. She tried to signal her willingness to him, to offer herself as much as she could, but it was all just fumbling and expressions of love in the moments when she just wanted to be fucked. If only he could have learned how to be stronger with her. Through everything that they had, she was left wanting that something that he just didn’t seem to be able to offer her.

  She didn’t really mind him wanting to masturbate so much, she just didn’t want to walk in on him when he was doing it in much the same way that she didn’t want to walk in on him when he was having a shit. Some things are best kept private.

  She was happy when she realised she was pregnant. Not like the last time it had happened, back when she was seventeen and stupid. What she did then was the right decision and she stood by it, even if she never told anyone about it. Now was the right time, wasn’t it? They were a settled, married, professional couple.

  Maybe she hadn’t talked about it at the time, but when they went through the process of buying their house together, she had made sure to check out the local schools and been quietly satisfied with them. Of course, you could only expect so much from state schools, and she had already started setting aside some money towards paying for school fees.

  Three months in and allegedly she was glowing. Mostly she just felt bloated and uncomfortable. Pregnancy was physically unpleasant for her. They had already agreed that she wouldn’t be going back to work once the baby was born, so it made sense for her to leave work a little earlier than planned. Her employer was reasonably sympathetic. Her only job now was to focus on the life growing inside her.

  Then it ended. Blood, cramps. Medical confirmation. She was healthy, but no longer pregnant. She should take a few days to rest, but there was nothing to worry about.

  She didn’t want to go back to work after her miscarriage. She couldn’t face seeing her colleagues again, appearing empty handed when she had left her job eager with anticipation for her new arrival, the one that would never now arrive.

  She wasn’t afraid of sex, or even put off it really. If Alex could just manage to have some balls, to be a bit more determined. If he could just make the move, make it clear that he wanted it, then of course she would let him, and enjoy it the more for that. She couldn’t tell him to be forceful with her, wouldn’t that defeat the point? If he didn’t know how to be a man, how was she supposed to make it easier for him?

  Chapter 7 - How Maria got it

  Maria’s main reason for deciding to join the book-club was just to have a reason to be out of the house. She didn’t feel able to just hook up with friends and go out drinking and dancing like she had when she was younger. She was supposed to be an adult now, and surely that wasn’t supposed to mean waking up the day after with crunchy patches of dried cum in her hair. Anyway, people were mostly married with children now and that got in the w
ay of fun. The last thing she wanted to do was sit around listening to people tell her just how well their kids were doing.

  She’d always felt like she should make the effort to read more but never managed to get very far. Sat there with a book in her hands the words would dance on the page before her and she’d fail to absorb any of it. It was so much easier to just stare vacantly at a TV screen.

  The group described itself as being friendly and welcoming to new-comers. They met every Tuesday in a café. The group was run by Melanie. It didn’t seem like the kind of operation that required much administration but she had appointed herself the benign overlord of all of it. Nominally the books picked for the group to read were chosen from everyone’s suggestions, but in practise Melanie tended to dictate most of it.

  Maria felt a bit nervous on the way there, but she knew she couldn’t let that stop her. Maybe she was out of practise at going out and meeting new people, but she used to do it all the time. What had changed? She wasn’t drunk these days when she did it. That was probably the problem.

  It wasn’t hard to find the group. Half a dozen people sat around a table with a few copies of the same book sat on it.

  “Hello, are you the book group?” Maria asked pointlessly. A stern but familiar sounding woman spoke, clearly Melanie.

  “Yes... you must be,” she glanced at the notebook in front of her, “Maria.”

  “That’s me.”

  “Right, well, so everyone, we’ve got a new face her tonight. Perhaps you’d like to tell us a little about yourself?”

  “Well... I’m Maria. I’m married, I’m thirty. I used to work as a PA. I grew up not far from here. That’s pretty much me.”

  “Do you read much?” Melanie asked a little impatiently.

  “I like to, but I don’t think I read enough. That’s why I’m here, I suppose.”

  “This week we’re talking about Limbless Joy, have you read it?”

  Maria had never even heard of it. Should she try and fake it?

  “No...”

  “Well, I’m afraid you might be a bit lost for this evening then. Never mind.”

  She wasn’t sure that this exactly constituted friendly and welcoming. At least it made it easier for Maria to drift back from the conversation. Having concluded that she didn’t have anything useful to say, Melanie was happy to just ignore her for the time being. Anyway, Melanie clearly had a lot to say for herself, and read several pages of her notes on the book in a very teacherly way.

  From what Maria could gather, Limbless Joy was a recent novel about a disabled child set some hundreds of years ago. It all sounded a bit grim.

  “Really, it’s inspiring, the way that no matter the circumstance, Pedro remains positive and cheerful. Take the infamous arm-cutting scene, where Pedro begs Anthony to saw his arm off. ‘I cannot cut them both off alone, señor,’ and then Pedro thanks him and watches the sunset. ‘It was a beautiful day, señor’ It makes me want to weep joyful tears just thinking about it.”

  A couple of people were nodding along happily with Melanie, letting her give vent to what they were feeling.

  Maria picked up one of the books from the table. It was a fat paperback with a bright blue spine and a close up picture of the face of a young boy with olive skin grinning inanely taking up most of the cover. Limbless Joy, the Pedro Garcia story, by W. Grace Monaco. She flicked through it aimlessly.

  “I have not eaten for a week señor, but you can have my stew. What is another day without food when you are happy?”

  The lean hungry man ate the stew quickly. All the time, little Pedro just sat there smiling.

  “Are you regretting coming here yet?”

  Maria was freed from any obligation to keep reading by a voice. The speaker was an attractive middle-aged woman who had discretely moved closer to talk to her.

  “No, it’s just not easy to follow if you haven’t read it.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s boring if you have.”

  “Is something the matter?” Melanie had noticed them and stopped reading out her notes to address them.

  “Nothing to worry about.”

  “Then perhaps, if you were hoping for a private conversation, somewhere else would be more appropriate, don’t you think, Camilla?”

  “You’re probably right, Melanie. Come on.”

  Camilla took Maria’s hand and led her out. Maria was blushing in spite of herself.

  “There’s a bar around the corner. Join me for a drink?”

  With her other options being facing scorn in the café or going home, who can blame Maria for going with her new friend? Camilla led the way. She held the door open for Maria and headed straight to the bar.

  “Wine?”

  “Sure.”

  Camilla glanced down the wine list and ordered a bottle of dry white that Maria couldn’t pronounce and two glasses.

  “I don’t think she wants to see us back there again.”

  “Don’t let it bother you. It isn’t the first time that she’s wanted me out of the way.”

  “She likes the sound of her own voice, doesn’t she?”

  “I think she always wanted to be a teacher but really dislikes children.”

  “And patronising adults is the next best thing?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So why do you keep coming back?”

  Camilla smiled and shrugged.

  “Other than her, most of the people are nice enough.”

  “I think I prefer it here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What? I didn’t mean...” Maria stuttered, then realised she was being played with and changed the subject. “What was she talking about, ‘it’s a beautiful day, señor’, that stuff is sick.”

  “Probably, but it’s won a lot of awards. Some people think it’s a masterpiece.”

  “Really?”

  Camilla shrugged.

  “I think it’s supposed to put your problems into perspective, he’s still smiling after all the things he goes through.”

  “If he’s still smiling and watching the sunset after someone’s cut his arm off he’s a fucking moron.”

  “I take it you won’t be wanting to read about poor little Pedro.”

  “If they made a film out of it, I still wouldn’t want to watch it. If it was on TV, I’d change the channel. I might even watch the news instead.”

  “You’re a stern critic. I’m guessing that it’s not your love of contemporary literature that brought you out this evening.”

  “I just needed something to get me out of the house.”

  “Problems at home?”

  “Nothing specific. I just feel really bored and frustrated. Do you ever get that feeling like everything is kinda pressing down on you and there’s nothing you can do about it...?”

  “No. It’s a problem with your husband then. Don’t take it personally if he’s sleeping around. Men aren’t happy if they’re not putting their cock somewhere they shouldn’t.”

  “As far as I know, all he’s fucking is his own hand.”

  “You’d rather it was a woman?”

  “No, but it’s just so sordid, pathetic really. All that wanking. He’s probably doing it right now.”

  “Better that than slapping you around or disappearing off to lots of conferences.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Are you going to divorce him?”

  “No, I couldn’t do that.”

  “So what’s the answer? Boredom, frustration and reading books about boys having their arms cut off?”

  “Do you have children?”

  “I stayed with my husband for twenty five years. He provided for my children and I, but he also had a string of affairs which I was supposed to pretend I didn’t know about.”

  “That must have been horrible.”

  “My children were always provided for and now they can take care of themselves. He knows that I could have made things difficult if I went public about everything, his career, y’know, it wouldn�
�t do so well if people knew what he was really like. So, he had the sense to give me enough to keep me well provided for. I shouldn’t complain.”

  “You sound like you should be in one of those horrible books, ‘it was a good marriage, señor’.”

  “Endurance is an important skill to learn. We all have to put up with stuff that we don’t like.”

  “So I should just be like that and learn to endure?”

  “That’s up to you. I made the choice for my children. Of course, they probably blame me for everything now, but that’s just the natural order of things.”

  “The way things have been going lately if I wanted to get pregnant I’d have to rummage in the bin after he’s been watching his pictures.”

  “Men need to cum regularly. If they’re not doing it with their wife, they’ll find some other way to do it.”

  “You think it’s my fault he’s doing it.”

  “Is it?”

  “I wouldn’t even mind if he could just get on with it and fuck me, but he seems to prefer porn and his own hand to me lately.”

  “Whose fault do you think it is?”

  “I don’t care whose fault it is. I just need something more.”

  “Then it’ll be you that has an affair. A beautiful woman like you would have no problem finding another man.”

  “Thank you, but I couldn’t do that.”

  “It could be said that you’ve got a little of Pedro about you too.”

  Maria smiled, mimicking the broad and vacuous beam from the book cover.

  “There must be another way, life isn’t supposed to be such a pointless grind, is it?”

  “I think that you have to find pleasure where you can, and hope that you can find enough to get you through the unpleasant bits.”