Tempting Escape

by Heather McVey

  Pulling her up by the elbow, Ted continued to kiss her, while pulling up the hem of her dress, bunching the material time and time again around her hips, so that she began to look like a female meringue. He took a step back and looked at the view that was presented. Her body was heavyset; her navel buried deep in her rounded stomach, and pierced with a golden ring. Her thighs were weighty and between them, her vulva swelled like a plump, juicy fruit, waiting to be plucked. His penis started to drip with clear, sexual lubricant. His eyes roved over the white stockings she wore clipped to a corset he couldn't see and the white, lacy panties that revealed a dark line where her juices had wet them.

  He cupped her mound through the thin lace and tugged her panties down. He grinned in appreciation at the hairy, red pussy he was presented. The red was a more vibrant shade than her fiery hair. In all his life, Ted hadn't seen a pubis as hairy or as large. Pulling one hairy lip aside with his forefinger and thumb, he tickled her clit lightly with his tongue. It was swollen and hard, begging for his attention. He felt the redhead shiver with anticipation and he took another lick, this time delving his tongue deeply between her fat lips so he could taste her. He sighed with masculine appreciation, while delving his tongue deeper still.

  She tasted heavenly.

  He was a great fan of lick-outs, he always had been, and he thought it a great pity that time was against him now. He pushed her hungry mouth away from his groin and sheathed his cock. “Sorry, darling, I'd love to finish where we left off, but time is ticking,” he gave an apologetic shrugged. “So—"

  Her disappointment showed in her dark blue eyes. “Maybe later, then?"

  "Maybe later,” he agreed and grabbed her fleshy buttocks with long, pale fingers. He was poised to enter her when there was a thudding sound from behind him, almost like a door closing. “What was that?"

  "Nothing.” She pulled his head down for a kiss. “Maybe it was just the wind or something."

  Suddenly uneasy, Ted looked down at her. He loved his intended, but she couldn't expect him to sleep with only her for the rest of his life, could she? That would be asking a hell of a lot of a man. With that decided, he thrust hard into the welcoming warmth of the redhead's pussy. Her painted nails dug deeply into his skin as the confession box swayed and rocked to the sounds of their lovemaking.

  * * * *

  Shelly stood frozen in the large gap that at one time would have been the doorway of the old Abby, her clenched fist to her mouth, and her teeth digging into her knuckles. This isn't happening, she thought, but it was, and when the sounds of their heavy breathing became unbearable, she turned and ran.

  * * * *

  "I should have known better,” Shelly moaned. “I've only myself to blame.” She did not even shiver as people with shopping bags, umbrellas, and wailing children hurried along behind her, towards bright, red, double-decker buses. She saw little and heard nothing, simply bowing her head and staring downward. Urging herself to focus, she rearranged her soaked bridal veil and dragged her sad mind back into the present, just as the persistent drizzle became a downpour.

  She felt nothing, only a deep sense of loss. Ted had betrayed her, but he had betrayed her before. She really should have known he would do it again. It had been foolish to think that because she had an engagement ring on her finger, he would change. She snorted. She certainly hadn't seen it coming with one of her bridesmaids, though. She turned and headed up the street to the modest apartment in London's East End that she and Ted had shared for the last two years. Shelly knew as soon as she walked through the front door that it was empty, only a clock ticking in the kitchen challenged the silence.

  Fear unfurled within her. He wasn't there. She dropped her soaked bridal veil in the hall. Forgetting the open door, she walked slowly into the kitchen, afraid of what message might await her. There was a note on the refrigerator:

  Gone looking for you. If you get home before me, for God's sake stay there until I get back. You've got it all wrong.

  Love,

  Ted.

  Shelly crumpled the note and flung it at the trashcan. It missed and she snorted in disgust. It seemed that lately, apart from when Ted was making love to her, all her conversations with him had been carried on with a strawberry refrigerator magnet as intermediary. The strawberry speaks, she thought hysterically. Perhaps she was going mad? She'd heard that stress or a sudden shock could do that to a person, push them over the edge into insanity. Well, she grinned crazily at the magnet; she'd definitely gotten a whopper of a shock that day.

  Like a ghost, Shelly drifted from the kitchen, not sure what to do. How could she wash counters or dishes? With Ted off God-knows-where, her mother no doubt furious with her, and a pile of guests whispering to each other over how she had run like a lunatic, dress hoisted to her calves, from the church? Her friend Claire kept saying that everything would be all right. But it wouldn't, not this time.

  She tugged off her wedding dress. She twisted a lock of hair, her hands unable to be still. I should be used to this by now, she thought. It had been going on forever, Ted's unfaithfulness, a never-ending procession of women, sometimes barely older than girls. But it would be a sin to get used to something like that, she thought. Unnatural, you can't let yourself get used to it, because that's like giving in.

  She paused in the rectangular dining room. It was sparsely furnished with a round table, chairs, and her spider plants. Only three days ago, Ted had made love to her on that same table.

  "God, you're tight,” he had gasped. “Honey, I'll never get bored of doing it with you."

  Shelly snorted; it seemed that he already had. She picked up a wineglass from the sideboard and flung it hard against the lime-green wall. It broke in a thousand pieces with a satisfying thud and for a moment, it helped dull the pain radiating through her in waves.

  The living room was cool and shadowed. The shimmering rays of a rainbow filtered through the blinds, playing off the water in the aquarium. Perhaps she'd find peace here. She sank into the couch.

  Just enjoy the room, she told herself, but she couldn't. The tick of the clock from the kitchen seemed to hound her and the globular eyes of the fish seemed to mock. Listlessly, she walked up the stairs, unaware that she was dressed only in her pretty, white underwear. Her bedroom, the room she'd shared with Ted, was masculine with solidly built furniture; everything was in its proper place, from the books neatly stacked on the bookstand, to his slippers by the side of the bed. Ted didn't like clutter, and was a bit of a neat freak. Shelly was the opposite.

  She stood in front of the closet mirror and twisted this way and that. What's wrong with me? she wondered.

  There was nothing the matter, not that she could see. Although petite, she was leggy, with full breasts, small waist, and slim hips that curved just enough to show she was feminine. Her skin was pale, whether it was sunny or not, and her blonde hair was thick, long, and glossy.

  So why wasn't I enough for him? she wondered, her heart breaking. Her shiny, tear-filled eyes fell on the suitcase she'd packed. Belinda, her mother, had brought it over that morning. It seemed like a lifetime ago. When she picked her honeymoon tickets up from the bedside table, her best friend Claire's words came back to her. “Shell, I think you should take the tickets and go to Male. It might teach that no-good, cheating rat, Ted, a lesson.” Shelly dropped the tickets as if they had scorched her fingers. What did she have to lose, after all? she thought, frowning.

  Nothing, a small yet brave voice echoed quietly in her head, nothing.

  She closed her eyes as a subtle wind swept through the partially open window and a faint scent of sandalwood wafted around her. She took a second to savor the pleasant smell before it evaporated and the breeze settled down to the cold, moist air that was so common for October.

  Opening her eyes, Shelly turned around in a hurry of excited movement. For better or worse, she'd made her decision.

  The phone in the hall rang piercingly, ignoring it, her heart hammering, she opened the s
uitcase. Madly, she started pulling out Ted's shirts.

  Then she threw open the wardrobe and piled some more of her summer clothes in the case.

  Chapter 3

  Seven hours later, Shelly was sipping at a G&T with the roar of the airplane engines filling her ears. She still couldn't quite believe that she was on her way to the Maldives. She'd done it; she had actually gone it alone. Her own daringness still made her breathless. Looking out at the starlit sky, she thought back to the events of that day. When she'd decided to go away on her honeymoon, she'd phoned a taxi to take her to the airport, then she'd tossed her wedding dress and her headdress onto the burning coals in the little hearth in the living room. Next, she'd flung her beautiful bouquet on top of them. Using the poker, she'd rammed the lot down.

  Dressed in only her pristine corset, G-string and stockings, she'd sat back on her heels and watched with grim satisfaction, as the dress and headdress set alight. The white orchids of her bouquet sizzled and charred to a crisp cinder. Then sinking to her knees, she'd gazed into the small inferno she'd created. Her anger was gone, and fury was replaced by an aching emptiness. She had wept hopelessly for hours.

  Shelly sighed. She truly doubted the memory of her lace wedding dress curling black in the flames, or the image of Ted thrusting between Gill's parted thighs, would ever leave her. She gave a watery chortle.

  Gill, what a friend she'd turned out to be. Shelly had known her from her school days. Although she had never counted Gill to be as close a friend as some of her other school friends that had survived the sometimes traumatic change from girl into woman, Shelly had always believed that she was someone whom she could trust and rely on. She sniffed; it showed just how wrong she usually was.

  Tears stung her eyes, and she was suddenly annoyed with herself for still caring so much. Angry, frustrated, and hurt, she decided that a little sexual experimentation of her own was well and truly in order. The young steward was as good a place to start as any, she decided after a thorough scan of his ‘attributes’ that comprised his looks, his carriage, and his flight attendant's uniform. Out of the corner of her eye, Shelly studied him as he passed by with the drink trolley. He couldn't have been much older than eighteen but his body was good, wide shoulders and slim, firm hips. His ass wasn't as muscled as she'd like, but she could work with it. And the bulge under his pressed trousers would definitely do.

  She could feel herself getting warmer at the thought of his hands all over her body. She bit her lip and hesitated. Would he even be interested in a woman ten years older than him? She supposed that there was only one way to find out. She sipped at her G&T and cleared her throat.

  "Yes, madam.” He smiled, ambling up the aisle towards her. “How may I be of service?"

  Well you could start by licking my pussy, Shelly thought.

  "Madam?"

  "Mmm,” Shelly said softly. She looked up into his chocolate-brown eyes. “Could I have a Manhattan, please?"

  He nodded, a blush staining his boyish cheeks.

  Shelly felt her face warming and wondered if she'd spoken out loud? As he handed her the drink, his fingers brushed up against hers, and her thighs clamped and throbbed in response.

  Licking her chapped lips, Shelly looked up at his face.

  As she stared at the young, handsome features that held just a hint of a devilish smile, a chill stole up her spine. Her body throbbed in areas she'd never known a body could throb. It was a fierce demanding ache she'd never known before. Confused, she looked down quickly at her Manhattan sitting on the small table before her.

  When she finally looked up, he was staring at her, a curious look in his eyes. Looking down, she realized that the fine, white fabric of her blouse did little to conceal the duskiness of her nipples, swollen, hard, and aching for the relief of his young lips to suckle them. Somehow, the realization made her even hornier but the airplane was full and well, she just wasn't brave enough to ask. Her gemlike eyes skittered nervously away from him. When obviously sensing the conflict waging within her, the steward moved on along the aisle, she gulped down her drink, ordered another from a tall stewardess, and gulped it down, too.

  A moment later, she bolted the door to the ladies’ room and leaned against it. Shelly Blake, she silently berated herself, you're nothing but a coward. Swaying from the alcohol she'd consumed, she closed her eyes in an effort to subdue the slow burning of her body. She was still extremely horny. Giving into the need, she traced the outline of her left nipple and pinched it; sending a delightful, throbbing pain coursing through her body. She ran her hand down over her breasts and along her hips, parted her legs, and...

  There was a rat-a-tat on the door. “Madam, are you all right?"

  Shelly jumped with a shriek and scooted back against the peach colored sink.

  "Madam?"

  She gasped. It was him, the young steward. Slowly she opened the door, her chest heaving slightly, her breasts rising and falling beneath her thin blouse. Maybe her newfound confidence came from the three Manhattans she'd already gulped down. Maybe it was because she had finally lost it. Whatever the reason, Shelly simply didn't care about anything else outside the promise she read in the steward's eyes.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her and she gripped his shirt and pulled him forward. Saying nothing, he bolted the door and began to unbutton his shirt. He's done this before, Shelly realized, in a blast of insight. Without making a move towards him, she studied him. He was dressed in tight, blue trousers, white shirt and a blue tie. At five foot seven though, he wasn't the tallest man on earth. He was slender, lithe, and pleasing to the eye. Without her willing it, the tips of her nipples grew even harder.

  Just looking at him aroused her.

  Her eyes as round as saucers, she trembled as he slipped his hands down to her waist and pulled her against him. She didn't resist. Instead, she pushed herself closer, rocking her hips against the long, swollen hardness of his cock. He might have a baby face, but he was all man where it mattered most. She slid her tongue along his neck. It was baby smooth and spicy from his cologne. He cupped her mound through her skirt. Shelly gasped and slipped her hands under his shirt. She ran her fingers eagerly over his warm, hairless skin, gasping again when he cupped her breast and slowly kneaded. Inch by teasing inch, he pulled up the hem of her skirt.

  Where his fingers touched her skin, it throbbed with primal need. Continuing to kiss him, Shelly unzipped his trousers and shoved her fingers inside. He was hard and ready for her. Her thighs clamped just imagining the feel of him in her pussy, long and hard, stretching her.

  With a grunt, he pulled her skirt up to her hips, turning her away so that her back was to him. Reaching around her body, he began to unbutton her blouse, baring her skin to his touch, as he nibbled her shoulder. He started pushing her skirt down over her hips. Sticking his thumbs in the waistband of her black panties, he pushed them down, too.

  Shelly had only ever slept with Ted. And the realization that for the first time she would soon be taking another man's cock into her body, made her shiver all over with a combination of apprehension and anticipation. She stood very still, enjoying the feel of her clothing moving over her hips and down her thighs. The way the delicious fibers caught on her nipples, the feeling of weightlessness below her feet as the airplane glided along. Then he was kissing her down her back, hands skimming over her thighs as he eased her skirt down even further. She lifted each foot and stepped out of her skirt, now totally naked to his touch.

  He knelt behind her and smoothed his hands down her legs, and then up. He stroked the tender, inner flesh of her thighs, gripping and pinching the skin with his teeth. Shelly trembled under his touch when he stroked his fingers through her wet pubic hair, concealing a need that was driving her crazy. Her pussy clenched and a fresh rush of warm wetness creamed his fingers. She bucked against his face when he found her creamy centre and slowly pressed inwards.

  He wrapped his arms around her thighs and leaned forward until her open pussy was pres
sed against his mouth. His tongue moved in long strokes, tasting her musky sweetness as he slid it back and forth. She felt her pussy contract, when he pushed his tongue inside her and drove it in and out. Then he stood, nuzzled her neck and turned her around to face him. When their lips met, Shelly could taste and smell the undeniable scent of her desire on his breath. She knotted her left hand in his light brown hair while she shoved her right impatiently inside his trousers, past his briefs. She wrapped her fingers around the long, hard length of his cock, squeezing a little, until she felt him jump. He growled, his hands leaving her breasts to slide down her stomach, to her hips. Lifting her, he set her down on the sink, her bare butt landing right in the center. The feel of the cool marble against her warm pussy was an alluring one.

  Then he bent and kissed her again where she wanted to be kissed the most, parting her strawberry-blonde lips to push two fingers inside. His eyes were at eye-level with her swollen cunt, as he watched his fingers, sticky and wet, slide in and out of her pink, juicy lips. Still poking her, he flicked his tongue over her clit, while he smoothed his thumb across the small, rounded opening of her anus.

  Grasping the edge of the marble ledge, Shelly's body was shuddering. Her clit was swollen and hard, begging for his attention. Her body began to shake as he stroked her, torturing the little nub between practiced fingers. If he kept going, she would explode and come all over his face, without him even having entered her.

  But then he positioned his body between her spread legs and gripped his penis in one hand. He stroked it a couple of times, then guided its swollen, red head easily between her full lips, which were soft and ready for him. He pulled back, holding her hips as he began pounding into her relentlessly.

  Shelly could feel her clit rub against him when he moved, and the fire in her loins intensified to a scorching peak. She cried out as her muscles clenched along the solid length of his arousal, while he delivered one of the best orgasms of her life. He continued to gyrate into her, still not having found his own release. Shelly's legs tightened around his waist. She leaned her head back against the mirror, her nails digging into his skin, all the while enjoying the delight of his hardness plunging in and out of her tingling pussy, stroking her to new and higher regions of pleasure.