Sex with a Sting: Six Erotic Fantasies with a Kink in the Tail

by Foxwell, C. D.

  Yet now, in early 2012, when Liz started to think back over the previous 14 months or so, she could see very clearly that that evening at Maxine’s was the start of it all. She suspected that he and Kirsten may have had a brief affair, perhaps slept together once or twice, but she knew Kirsten was loyal to her husband: any fling would not have lasted long. Besides, she began to feel that Ethan had reverted to the character she met at that first dinner party, a man who moved swiftly from woman to woman.

  Evidence began to pile up. He would get texts late at night. She’d catch him smiling at messages and then pretending to look serious when she asked what was so funny. She once heard him on the phone at 3am in the front room. She couldn’t hear what he was saying because he was whispering, but it was a gentle murmur and she knew that tone well, even if she couldn’t make out the words.

  He was late home more and more regularly. He never called her at work, when previously he had made a point of calling once or twice a day. Their sex life petered out week by week – she was often asleep when he came home anyway. Cliché upon cliché, she once found what looked like a smudge of foundation on one of his shirt collars.

  The clincher was the morning she went to the bathroom and found a pill packet with three ‘Pills’ left. They did not belong to Liz – she hadn’t bothered taking them for a while as they hadn’t had sex in a couple of months. So, once again, he had been banging another woman in their bed.

  A month went by with no improvement. Ethan became ever more distant, ever more evasive and, if anything, he became sloppy. Once, he didn’t return home until 8am and tried to claim he had got drunk, his phone had run out of juice and he’d had to stay at a mate’s flat. A moment later, his phone shivered as a text message vibrated through. He looked a little sheepish and said he was going for a shower.

  She had been warned, of course. She knew this would happen. People don’t really change. The question was what to do about it.

  One evening when he did come home at a reasonable time, she tackled him. “Listen Ethan, we need to talk, don’t we?”

  “Do we?”

  “Come on, we are in serious trouble here. We barely speak, you’re never here…”

  “I’m here now.”

  “Okay, you’re rarely here. That’s not my point. I know you’ve been cheating again.”

  “I haven’t, I promise, I’ve just been really busy with work.”

  “Ethan, look, let’s not argue about this, it’s pointless and it won’t get us anywhere. I know you’ve been cheating and you know you’ve been cheating, so let’s just put our cards on the table, shall we?”

  Ethan paused for a moment. He had been sitting with his feet up on the sofa while Liz sat in the armchair, leaning forward, elbows on her knees. He realised he looked far too relaxed and carefree for this conversation, so he swung his legs round and sat up straight. “Okay, yes, I haven’t been faithful. I’m sorry, but…” he didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

  “Okay, I’m glad we’ve got that out the way. So, how long?”

  “How long what?”

  “How long have you been screwing around for? When did it start, since the last time, I mean?” Ethan opened his mouth to reply. “Be honest! There’s no point in us talking about this unless you’re going to be honest.”

  “I dunno, two or three months?” he offered. Liz shook her head sadly. “Okay, on and off, I guess… a year?”

  Liz put her face in her hands for a moment. She willed herself to carry on. “Okay. About a year. That’s what I thought. With one woman? Or more?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “It does to me. If this is one woman you’ve been continually fucking for a year then this all ends right now. If you’re back to your old ways of when we met, fucking a different one every other week, then… I suppose… in some ways, it’s different.”

  “Well, it’s not been just one woman.”

  “Okay. And how do you feel about me? Do you still love me? I mean, what’s going on here? You clearly haven’t just fallen in love with someone else.”

  “I do still love you, Lizzie. I can’t think of anyone else I want to be with. But I just can’t help myself. I’m not saying I don’t like these other women, of course I like them, but I don’t feel that much for them… I suppose I enjoy, I dunno, the game, the chase, it’s like I need it or something.”

  Liz stood up and poured herself a large glass of red wine. Ethan watched her. She held the bottle up, and he nodded his head, so she poured him a glass, too. “So you love me, but you’re willing to hurt me with all this shit?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know what it is. When we were first together, it was fine, I didn’t have these urges, all that stuff went away somehow. But then they came back every now and again and now they’re here, properly, and I can’t get rid of them. I want to. I keep telling myself I have to stop, but I can’t. Maybe it’s a kind of addiction.”

  “An addiction. Classic celebrity excuse for fucking around, that.” Ethan looked at his feet. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this too. I’ve known for a while there’s been stuff going on, I’m not an idiot. And here’s how I see it. If you don’t believe you can ever stop cheating on me, then we might as well sort out a divorce now. But, if you truly believe you can change and that you want to change, then I think we should talk about ways of how we can try to make this thing work.”

  “I really want to change. I can’t lie and say I don’t enjoy what I do, but I want to change, I’d rather just be with you and be happy with that.”

  Liz took a deep breath. “Okay, that’s good. Now, the way I see it is this: you do not build emotional attachments to these women, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “You fuck them a couple of times for fun and then move on to the next one.”

  “Correct,” he said, quietly.

  “So, maybe what we need to do is to bring the excitement that you get from sleeping around into our own bedroom. If you are getting what you… need… from me, then maybe we can eliminate all the creeping around and dishonesty and try and rebuild this relationship.”

  “Sounds great in theory, but, as far as I’m concerned, our sex life used to be great – wasn’t it?”

  Liz laughed. “Yeah, it was amazing, I’ll give you that. But ‘was’ is the operative word here. We don’t really have a sex life at the moment, do we?”

  “You know what? It’s not that I don’t want you. But… it’s the guilt. I don’t feel I should touch you, because I know what I’ll probably be doing with someone else in the next 24 hours.”

  “That’s something, I suppose.” She took a large gulp of wine. “So, I’ve been thinking about things we could do to, well, start things off.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s weird, because this is going to sound like a fucking reward for all you’ve done to me. And I want you to know that I am hurt by all this. I’ve cried myself to sleep loads of times when you’ve been late home because I know you’re fucking some slag behind my back.” Ethan had no response to this. “But, the fact is, when we’re good together, we’re really good, and I want to work at this marriage. If you do.”

  “I do.”

  “And if that means doing things that perhaps normally I wouldn’t consider, then I’ll do it and hopefully we can find a way of making this all work.”

  “I really hope we can.”

  “So,” she took a deep breath and another gulp of wine. “This is my first idea. Have you ever been in a threesome?”

  Ethan burst out laughing. “Well, yeah, once or twice when I got very lucky. Before we met, of course.”

  “Why ‘of course’?”

  Ethan stopped laughing. “Good point.”

  “Was it good?”

  “It was pretty amazing, yes, I have to admit.”

  “Okay, well how would you feel about expanding our horizons a bit? Maybe start with a threesome and see what happens from there? See how it works out?”
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  “Well, I’m not going to say no! Are you sure?”

  “Well, I’ve never been with a girl before, but I have thought about it, you know. Do you think it could help us? Something like this?”

  “I guess so. It’s a weird way to go about it, but it could do. If you’re happy with it.”

  “I wouldn’t say happy, exactly. But it intrigues me.”

  “Did you have anyone in mind?”

  “Well, I’ve thought about that, too. I thought at first maybe you would know someone, a past conquest or something. But then I thought I wouldn’t like that. Inviting a woman into my bed who had fucked my husband behind my back – that doesn’t do it for me. Then I thought about hiring an escort, to make sure we get someone with no inhibitions, who would know what she was doing.”

  “Nice idea, I like that.”

  “But… hmm… I dunno. I’m not ready for that either. A sex worker, I mean. It’s prejudiced, I know, but I’m not up for that.”

  “Okay, so what’s the solution?”

  “Well, then I started thinking about my friends. And the one friend who I have, on occasions, thought about in that sort of way, because she is just sex on legs, is Maxine.” Ethan’s eyebrows raised, his lips curled into a lascivious, involuntary smile. “Yeah, I thought you might like that idea,” she said. “I’ll talk to her.”

  A couple of days later, Ethan had just finished working with a client. He turned his phone back on and a text came through: “It’s on. Saturday. 9pm.” He smiled. He couldn’t quite believe his luck.

  Saturday night. Ethan sat with his back up against the wrought iron bars of his vintage bed so that he could get a perfect view through the bedroom door. He was wearing a white linen shirt and smart jeans, no shoes or socks. He, Liz and Maxine had had a couple of drinks to loosen themselves up. He’d sat between them and they had allowed him to place his hands on their thighs. Now he was waiting. He could hear the two women murmuring, occasionally giggling, in the other room.

  The anticipation was almost more than he could bear. He had known Maxine for years. He had always fancied her – virtually everyone did – she was just naturally sexy. The way she walked, the way she talked, the way she ate, the way she drank. Everything she did was sexy. It was effortless. Every now and again he would try it on with her, but she never responded. He had never got close. Generally speaking, with a few notable exceptions, he had usually been able to seduce pretty much anyone he wanted since he was a teenager. Maxine was one of the very few he had never made it with, although she had frequently appeared in his fantasies, and once he had even slept with a woman simply because she had a passing resemblance to her.

  So, to get her and Liz, who, despite their recent dry spell in the bedroom, he still found incredibly attractive and desirable, together, at the same time, pleasing him, was almost beyond his dreams. Almost. Not quite. He had dreamt about it several times even before Liz had mentioned it the previous week as a possibility. Since then, he had barely been able to get the images out of his head. Liz and Max kissing; Liz and Max taking each other’s clothes off; Liz and Max taking his clothes off; Liz and Max letting their tongues and lips explore his rock hard cock at the same time; Liz and Max kissing while he fucked Liz; Liz and Max kissing while he fucked Max; Liz going down on Max; Max going down on Liz… all this went through his mind and more as he waited, impatiently, for the girls to emerge. He tried to stop himself thinking of all the scenarios. He just wanted it to unfold, to be surprised by it all… but, still, imagine Liz riding his cock while Maxine lowered her pussy to his lips... He was already rigid with desire.

  There were still murmurings and giggling going on in the other room, but he resisted both the urge to spy on them and the urge to call out and ask what they were doing. Eventually, however, after what seemed like hours but in truth was only about 20 minutes or so, the two women strolled into the room, arm in arm.

  They looked incredible. Liz was wearing virginal white. The bra was made of some kind of sheer material so that he could make out her dark nipples underneath. Next, around her torso was a beautifully sexy white suspender – sheer material again, with a vintage, detailed lace section underneath. Her stockings were pure white at the top of the thigh, descending into a translucent gloss. She wore shiny white high heels. Finally, the tiny brief, barely clinging to her hips, was made of the same delicate, transparent material as the bra. Ethan breathed deeply as he noticed her fresh Brazilian style of pubic hair underneath.

  Maxine, on the other hand, had gone in the opposite direction. She was in all black, in contrast to her porcelain skin. He wasn’t quite sure how her strapless black bra was staying on, but he loved it all the same. It looked like one shake of her boobs would cause it to drop off. Like Liz (had they been shopping together?) she wore a suspender across her torso, only this was a little different. Made of silk satin, it occasionally sparkled in the candlelight of the bedroom and was intricately designed, almost like a web, around her abdomen. The stockings were similar to Liz’s, only black, and, like Liz, she wore dominating high heels, but, again, in black. Her panties matched the suspender – a latticework of silk from hip to hip.

  Both had pinned their hair up, exposing their necks. Their make-up, though, was different. Maxine’s pouting lips were dark red, her face white, her eyes heavy with black eye shadow; a beauty spot on her left cheek. Liz was simpler, purer, just light pink lipstick and a small amount of eyeliner. Ethan felt very underdressed. Just the sight of his wife’s fingers curled around Maxine’s waist was enough to make him want to jump the pair of them. Yet he continued to sit, perhaps dumbfounded, even intimidated.

  Maxine smiled. She leant in to Liz and whispered something in her ear. Liz giggled. Max kissed her neck, gently, and Ethan watched as Liz’s hand dropped to Maxine’s behind. He could hardly bear this. Maxine allowed her lips to brush against Liz’s, and Liz closed her eyes as she did so. As Max withdrew, Ethan could see a reddish smudge of lipstick on Liz’s neck.

  He began to move off the bed, his hard-on already clear for both the women to see. “Pleased to see us?” laughed Liz.

  “Fuck yes!”

  “Ah, ah, ah! We won’t have such coarse language in our bedroom, will we, Elizabeth?” said Maxine, severely.

  “No, we shall not, Maxine.” Maxine withdrew her arm from around Liz’s waist and now Ethan saw that she had brought some extra items into the bedroom with her. There was a clinking noise as Maxine held them casually by her hips. Small, thin, black ropes and cuffs.

  “So, we’re going to play, are we?” he laughed.

  “We are, yes,” replied Maxine.

  “I think you need to undress,” added Liz.

  “How about you girls undress me?”

  “Do as the lady says,” commanded Maxine. Ethan started to say something but then decided against it. He unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it to the floor.

  “Hang it up,” ordered Liz. He did so. He slipped out of his jeans. “And fold those up too,” she added. His erection bulged inside a pair of black Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

  “Get rid of the pants,” said Maxine. The women watched him intently as he slipped out of them and then, before being asked, he placed them in the washing hamper at the side of the room. “He learns quickly,” mused Maxine. Ethan stood there, naked, his cock pointing towards the heavens. He felt a little ridiculous, even vulnerable. The women stared at his lithe body, barely a hair on it, good-sized pecs, strong thighs and arms, a slight, intriguing inward curve to his penis. They waited. He had no idea what to do with his hands. He took a step towards them.

  “Sit on the bed,” said Liz without emotion in her voice. He perched uncertainly on the side and very quickly, within two strides, Maxine reached him and shoved him backwards.

  “Lie down properly. Lengthways. Hands and legs outstretched. Like you’re doing a star jump lying down. You get your clients to do star jumps don’t you?” asked Maxine. He nodded. “I mean, when you haven’t got that cock of yours ins
ide them, anyway. Or maybe you use star jumps as some kind of foreplay? Don’t answer, I don’t want to know.”

  Ethan was now spread-eagled on the bed. Max passed Liz two of the cuffs. These were slightly unusual. They weren’t like traditional handcuffs. Instead, each item was made up of a single ring of metal to which a piece of smooth, spiralled black rope had been attached, leaving two tasselled ends. The women walked to the head of the bed on opposite sides. Each took a wrist and quickly snapped a cuff on. Then they tied the ropes to the corners of the bed. Ethan said nothing. He just smiled, allowing them to have their fun. He liked this kind of anticipation.

  The women moved back down to the end of the bed, snapped the cuffs around his ankles and tied the rope to the corner posts. He was now completely helpless.

  “Shall we go then?” said Liz, suddenly breaking character.

  “Yeah, let’s go!” and the pair of them began to walk out.

  “Wait! Wait! What the fuck?!” wailed Ethan. The women reached the door and then turned back.

  “Isn’t he sweet?” purred Maxine.

  “I think he really wants us to stay,” pouted Liz. “Do you want us to stay, baby?”

  “Yes!”

  “Yes please,” corrected Maxine.

  “Yes please. Fuck me, you two planned this properly didn’t you? Bitches!”

  “He called you a bitch, Elizabeth!”

  “He called you a bitch too, Maxine!”

  “Now that’s not very nice, is it? Or very smart, considering you have your hands and feet tied up like that. I mean, we could do anything to you.”

  “Anything,” agreed Liz.

  “I apologise, I’m sorry, ladies.”