by Ray Gordon
Wandering outside, I rounded the corner of the house, just able to make out Den's penis sticking through a hole in the high fence in the dark of the night. Kneeling, I wasted no time, sucking his bulbous plum into my mouth, desperate to get it over with and climb the stairs to the safety of my bed.
"Mmm, that's good!" Den gasped. "Give me a bloody good blow job, bitch!" Moving my head back and forth, repeatedly taking his swollen knob to the back of my throat, I wondered how many times I'd be forced to kneel at the fence and swallow his sperm. How many times did he need to come each day? Four? Five? Six?
"You like my knob spunking down your throat, don't you?" he breathed. Ignoring his crudity, I mouthed and sucked on his glans, praying for him to come quickly. I was tired, physically and mentally exhausted, and all I wanted was my bed. "Mouth fuck me, whore!" he cried in his progressive excitement, his shaft twitching, his knob swelling dangerously.
His sperm gushing, bathing my tongue, filling my cheeks, I sucked and drank from his orgasming cock, draining his balls yet again. I felt dirty, crude, as his jism dribbled from my mouth and ran down my chin. Whore. The word haunted me, resounded through the wreckage of my mind. Did I want Lisa's clitoris in my mouth, or Den's cock? Confusion reigned as I sucked out the last of his salty sperm and clambered to my feet.
Ignoring Den as he asked me if sucking him off had wetted my cunt, I hurried back into the house. I hated myself for failing yet again, for succumbing to my blackmailer's crude demands. Locking the back door, I ran upstairs, the taste of sperm lingering on my tongue. Never again, I promised myself as I cleaned my teeth, washing away the reminder of my lewd act.
In bed, I pulled the quilt over my head, hiding from the cruel world. But I knew I couldn't hide from myself. I'd run away from Den, from Lisa... From Mat? As sleep began to engulf me, I again thought about a holiday on a Greek island. The sun, the beach... I wanted to dream about an idyllic holiday, not crude sex. Images of Lisa's open cunt loomed in my mind. I couldn't choose my dreams, but I could choose my way of life.
Chapter Six
Mat seemed different during breakfast. He was quieter than usual, watching me over the top of his newspaper as I sipped my coffee. He didn't even mention the computer he'd been to look at the night before. Trying to appear normal, not noticing his strange mood, I busied myself, making toast and chatting about the weather.
"How come you never wear a dressing gown now?" he asked suddenly, folding the paper.
"I prefer to dress before coming downstairs," I replied.
"Or come down naked. You always wore your gown in the mornings."
"I don't any more."
"Several things seem to have changed recently. No dressing gown, this exercising business, you naked whenever I come home..."
"I'm not always naked when you come home!" I giggled. "A couple of times I was naked, that was all."
"You were in a strange mood last night. Sitting alone in the lounge when we had guests, and then going out."
"I had to see Carole, it couldn't be helped."
"You seem different, Jane."
"I don't know why you think that, I'm still the old me."
"Well, I'd better be going. Don't forget we're going to Den's this evening."
"How could I forget?"
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. I'll see you this evening."
Watching Mat's Audi disappear up the road, I decided to ring Carole. She'd offered to come round and talk, and I was feeling increasingly guilty for not answering the door to her. She deserved an explanation. Did I have an explanation?
"I'm sorry I've not been in touch," I said sorrowfully as she answered the phone.
"What's been happening?" she asked. "I came round and you weren't in, and I've phoned several times."
"I had to go out. Look, why don't you come round for coffee this morning?"
"All right, in an hour or so. What's been happening with your neighbour?"
"I'll tell you when I see you."
"OK. You won't go out again, will you?"
"No, I'll be here."
Wondering whether or not to tell Carole the truth, I thought it best to play it by ear. I wanted to tell her everything - Den, Lisa, the crude sex, the notes... She was my best friend, and that's what friends are for. There again, what would she think of me if I told her about the garden hoe?
Gazing out of the kitchen window at the scandalous tool, I felt my vagina tighten, my clitoris swell. Could I... ? No, I couldn't repeat the beautifully vile act now, but I desperately needed to come. I thought of Lisa, her tongue, her baby-smooth cunt lips, her long, succulent nipples.
What was I becoming? What had I become? I felt so lost, alone, confused. Talking to Carole wouldn't help, I reflected. She'd try to persuade me to tell Mat about Den, insist that he'd understand if he really loved me. Had she ever had lesbian sex? I wondered. Did she masturbate, rub her clitoris to orgasm?
My arousal soared as I waited for her to arrive. I had to come, to masturbate and relieve my mounting sexual tension. Pulling my wet panties off, I slipped my hand up my short skirt and toyed with my sensitive inner lips, pulling and twisting my pink petals. I was wet, very wet. My clitoris swollen, I desperately needed an orgasm.
Had I time to masturbate before Carole arrived? Time or not, I had to bring myself off. In the lounge, I sat down, placing my legs over the arms of the chair and tugging my skirt up over my stomach. Parting my thighs further, my vaginal crack wide open, I slipped a finger deep into my hot sex duct, caressing my inner flesh, inducing my creamy pussy milk to flow.
Massaging my clitoris with my free hand, I closed my eyes, quivering as the beautiful sensations mounted, gently rippling through my body. I was becoming addicted to orgasm, craving the immense satisfaction and pleasure masturbation brought. The very act of slipping my panties down, opening my legs, just thinking about masturbating, triggered powerful sexual feelings.
I was building a strong affiliation with my cunt, almost an obsession, a fascination. My clitoris had become the epitome of my body, the essence of my very being. I could almost feel a spiritual energy flowing through my pulsating pleasure nodule as I masturbated, an uncanny sexual energy I'd never known before. My breasts swollen, my nipples ached for my caress, yearned for the wet heat of my mouth. My body longed for my love.
Unbuttoning my blouse, cupping my firm breast in my hand, I lowered my head and took my sensitive nipple into my mouth and gently sucked. Resuming my clitoral massaging, my vaginal fingering, I bit on my nipple, the wonderful sensations permeating my full breasts, running through my quivering womb. My whole body was alive with sex, my thighs twitching, my stomach rising and falling, my mind drifting on a cloud of carnal ecstasy. Faster I massaged my pulsating sex button, fingered my wet cunt, my orgasm building within my contracting womb as my erect nipple slipped out of my mouth. I wanted Lisa's mouth there, sucking my brown bud, milking me.
Gasping, my eyes rolling, my head tossing from side to side, I shuddered as my orgasm came, erupting within my throbbing clitoris. My vagina lovingly gripping my pistoning fingers, I pictured Lisa licking and fingering me, the images adding to the beautiful waves of pure sexual ecstasy, intensifying my climax. I longed for her shaved cunt pressed against my mouth, my tongue lapping up her orgasmic cream. I imagined my tongue delving deep into her hot sex hole, licking her, fucking her.
As my orgasm rolled on, I moved my buttocks forward, my legs opening wider, almost at right angles to my trembling body, my cunt slit gaping. I desperately wanted Lisa between my thighs, masturbating me, drinking from my hot duct, fingering me. Did I want Den fucking me? I wondered as my climax finally began to wane. Did I want him sperming in my mouth? Did I want Mat?
Slowing my masturbating rhythm, my mind drifting down from paradise, I caught sight of the candle on the mantlepiece. My vaginal juices running down between my parted buttocks, lubricating my anal portal, I wondered whether to slip the wax shaft deep into my bottom and masturbate again.
I felt dirty, wicked. I craved sex and looked frantically around the room for something long and wide to slip into my spasming vagina.
Eyeing the brass door knob, I clambered to my feet and crossed the room. Pulling my skirt up as I stood by the door, I manoeuvred my hips, slipping the brass knob between my swollen pussy lips. It was very big and I wasn't sure whether my cunt would stretch to accommodate the cold phallus. I was thinking like a nymphomaniac, behaving like a wanton whore, but I couldn't help myself. Bouncing up and down, the knob forcing my inner labia wide apart, massaging my wet sex valley, I wondered whether Carole had ever committed such an obscene act.
Suddenly, the rounded knob slipped into my vaginal duct, filling me, cooling my hot inner flesh. "God, what am I doing?" I breathed as I gyrated my hips, the brass knob stretching me wide open, massaging deep inside my cunt. Leaning back, slowly rocking my hips, I shuddered as the beautiful stretching sensations sent a quiver up my spine. I'd found yet another phallus to use every day, yet another friend to comfort my insatiable cunt. Did Carole fuck door knobs?
My finger between my buttocks, tentatively toying with the sensitive brown tissue surrounding my anal duct, I'd become sex-crazed. I was discovering new sensations, new crude acts to appease my craving for debased sex. My finger driving deep into my tight arsehole, waking the secret nerve endings there, bringing me incredible sensations, I rocked my hips faster, fucking myself with the solid door knob. I imagined Carole bottom-fingering herself.
As my drenched vagina tightened, gripping the knob, my second orgasm erupted, taking me to amazing heights of sexual pleasure as I thrust my finger in and out of my hot anus. My lust for debauched sex was rocketing, and I wondered to what heights of self abuse I'd fly, to what depths of sexual depravity I'd sink. A banana, the candle, the garden hoe, the door knob... What else would I force deep into my cunt and fuck myself with?
"God!" I cried, clinging to the door as my legs crumpled beneath me. "God, it's beautiful!" Rocking my hips faster, the door knob driving in and out of my aching pussy, I finally fell back, the hot phallus slipping out of my inflamed vagina as I staggered across the room. Pulling my finger out of my tight rectal sheath, I flopped onto the sofa, trembling, gasping, whimpering as I drifted down from my sexual heaven.
Did other women behave as I had while their husbands were at work?
The doorbell ringing, I brushed my damp locks away from my burning face and scanned the room. There was no evidence of my debauchery, no signs of my incredible self abuse. Staggering to my feet, yanking my skirt down, I teetered through the hall and opened the door to Carole, smiling sweetly as she stepped inside.
"Are you OK?" she asked concernedly.
"Yes, I'm fine."
"You're very flushed, and you're sweating. You haven't got a temperature, have you?"
"I've been exercising," I parroted as she followed me to the kitchen. "I'm on a keep-fit thing at the moment."
Seating herself at the table, her suspicious gaze fell to my discarded cunny-wet panties. Picking them from the floor, I casually tossed them into the washing machine and filled the kettle. My cunt milk coursing down my inner thighs, my hands still trembling, I wondered whether she'd guessed what I'd been doing. Did she finger-fuck her bottom?
"Do you masturbate?" I asked, immediately wishing I hadn't.
"That's a funny question!" she laughed. "Do you?"
"Yes," I replied coolly, spooning coffee into the cups. "I read somewhere that most women masturbate."
"I used to, but not now. I have John, so I don't need to."
"I have Mat, but I still masturbate."
"This is an odd subject to be discussing when you're being blackmailed. Tell me about this neighbour of yours, what he's been up to."
"It's OK now," I lied. "He's... he's moved away."
"That must be a relief."
"It is! I've put it all behind me now, moved on."
"There's still something troubling you, Jane, I can tell. There's something different about you."
"Have you ever... Have you ever had a lesbian relationship?"
"A lesbian relationship? What's all this about? What are you driving at?"
"An article I read - it said that a lot of women experiment with their own sex at some time or other."
"Well, at school... I went to a boarding school and... Can't we talk about something else?"
"Go on, I'm interested."
"Jane, I really don't want to talk about masturbation and lesbian relationships."
"Sorry, it's just that I found the article interesting."
"How's Mat? I saw him leaving as I arrived, has he got a day off?"
"No, no he left over an hour ago. Are you sure it was him?"
"Yes, he didn't see me, but it was him all right."
Passing Carole her coffee, I wondered whether Mat had forgotten something and... It suddenly occurred to me that he might have seen me in the lounge. Lost in my sexual haze, I wouldn't have heard him come in. Had he watched me? How long had he been there, spying on me during my most private moments? If he had seen me, at least he'd now believe that I masturbated. But the thought of him watching horrified me.
What if Den and Lisa had been in the lounge, fucking me, abusing me? I'd have to put the latch up on the front door lock the next time I masturbated. The last thing I wanted was Mat barging in and discovering me naked, fucking myself with a banana! And if he were to see me with the garden hoe stuffed up my bottom!
"John's just booked for us to go to Portugal for a couple of weeks," Carole said, obviously trying to lighten the conversation.
"That'll be great. I'm thinking about going to Greece," I replied. "A week or two on a Greek island would be heavenly."
"We all need to get away at times."
"Tell me about it! I just want to get away from Den."
"Den?" she echoed.
"Er... I mean..." I stammered, wondering how to explain. "He's a friend of Mat's. They work in the same office and he calls round most evenings."
"Tell Mat that you don't want him coming round."
"It's usually about work, so... Anyway, how's John's promotion going?"
"We're still waiting to hear. It's a real nail-biting time, I can tell you! Shall we sit in the garden? It's a lovely day."
Turning and looking out of the window, I wondered whether Den was at home. If we sat in the garden, he might spy on us, take photographs and... Realizing that I was becoming paranoid, I opened the back door and stepped outside.
"You're right," I said as Carole joined me on the patio. "It is a lovely day."
"The garden's looking nice," she remarked, wandering across the lawn with her coffee. "I see you've been hoeing."
"Yes, I... It keeps the weeds down."
My vagina spasmed as I joined Carole and contemplated the hoe, the rounded end of the green handle. My sex juices still oozing from my vaginal opening, irrigating my inner thighs, I felt an urgent need to masturbate again. I really was becoming addicted to orgasm, and I wondered whether to nip up to the bathroom to appease myself. As I was about to tell Carole that I was going up to the loo, Den sauntered into the garden.
"Hi!" he called, walking across the lawn towards us. "Nice day."
"Oh, er..." I began, my hands trembling as he approached. "Er... Carole, this is... This is Dave, he lives down the road."
"Pleased to meet you," Carole smiled, shaking his hand.
"Mat's out, I'm afraid," I said, glaring at the audacious bastard.
"I came to see you but, as you have company..."
"It's OK, I was about to go," Carole broke in. "I have things to do."
"In that case, I'll stay."
"No, Carole. You... you don't have to go," I said shakily. I didn't want to be mouth-fucked. "Stay and..."
"I have to go into town to pick up one or two things, and I must call into the bank. I'll see myself out."
"But..."
"I'll give you a ring."
As she disappeared into the h
ouse, I turned and faced Den. He grinned triumphantly as he reached out and squeezed my breast through my blouse, commenting on my full melons, my succulent nipples. The situation had become absurd, I thought angrily. I couldn't even enjoy a coffee and a chat with my best friend without Den spoiling things! Seething with rage as he slipped his hand up my skirt and cupped my wet vaginal lips, I stepped back.
"How you have the gall to wander into my garden when I'm with a friend, I really don't know!" I spat.
"What do you think about the hole in the fence?" he asked cheekily. "It's rather ingenious, isn't it?"
"It's disgusting!"
"I'll let you into a little secret, Jane."
"What secret?"
He chuckled, obviously delighting in keeping me in suspense. "It wasn't me you sucked off last night," he finally laughed.
"What?" I gasped.
"A friend of mine called to see me. He stuck his dick through the hole and you sucked him off, swallowed his spunk."
My heart sank as I recalled the anonymous knob in my mouth, the sperm gushing, sacrilegiously baptizing my tonsils. In the dark, I'd not noticed that it was a different penis. After all, a cock is a cock. Even in daylight, I'd probably not have known the difference. I felt like a prostitute, sucking a stranger to orgasm for payment. Although my remuneration was Den's silence, it was still payment for sex.
"I nearly exploded with laughing when he spunked in your mouth!" Den sniggered. "The great thing about it was that I charged him ten pounds for the pleasure!"
"I've never met anyone as vile and despicable as you!" I hissed through gritted teeth. "This is the last straw! As from now, you can forget the whole bloody thing!"
"Oh dear. I really don't think Mat will be too pleased to discover..."
"Let me tell you something," I smiled sweetly. "I've been having an affair for the last three years. One week from now, I'll be living in a beautiful house in the Cotswolds with another man."
"You're bluffing."
"Am I? I wasn't going to tell Mat that I'm leaving him until the last minute. The only reason I allowed you to blackmail me was because I didn't want you rocking the boat, ruining my plans."