Alfresco Loving

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Alfresco Loving Page 5

by Miranda Forbes


  They were young, Emily could see; somewhere in their mid twenties. Young, happy and free.

  ‘It’s worth more than money,’ his girlfriend replied. ‘You could never be unhappy in a place like this. Who d’you think the owners are?’

  ‘Rich bastards,’ her boyfriend replied. ‘He works in the City, she just shops.’

  ‘Daz! You don’t know that.’

  Giggling, the girl swam up to him again, wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him passionately. He stroked her breasts, gently tweaking her nipples. They were about to make love, Emily thought. They were about to do exactly what she’d been wanting to all week. How she envied them their passion and spontaneity.

  ‘All I know is that I’d rather be you and me,’ Daz was saying. ‘This house? Expensive cars? A yacht? It’s all work and responsibility and stress. And while they’re away, we can play. I’m guessing that we’ve got a fuck sight more freedom than they have.’

  He was right, Emily thought. Her life was empty by comparison. There was no passion or sense of playfulness, no adventure or spontaneity. It had all dried up, drained by wealth and possessions and her husband’s desire for success.

  She liked these people, Emily decided. And she’d show them that she wasn’t the empty-minded shopaholic they took her for. Descending the stairs to the kitchen, she removed the chilled bottle of champagne that she’d bought for Piers’ non-existent arrival, and took three glasses from the cupboard. It was a mad thing to do, but what did she care? Maybe it was the full moon egging her on, maybe it was the result of a week’s loneliness, but at last Emily had company, and she was going to take advantage of it.

  She carried the tray out on to the pool terrace. ‘Welcome to my home,’ she said breezily, as if this kind of thing happened all the time. ‘I’m glad to see you’re enjoying yourselves.’

  The couple gasped. ‘I’m sorry …’ they began simultaneously until the girl took over. ‘I’m so sorry about this, but we didn’t think anyone was here.’

  ‘So I see,’ Emily said. ‘But you were wrong, weren’t you?’

  ‘We checked out the website,’ Daz started, as if exonerating himself. ‘You know, for the rental bookings? It said it was available this week.’

  ‘I’m the owner, I don’t need to book,’ Emily told him with a wry smile. ‘Now, are you going to help me open this bottle?’

  Embarrassed, Daz climbed out of the pool and wrapped his towel around himself, before taking the bottle Emily offered and opening it. As he poured out three glasses, his companion joined them, also wrapping herself in a towel.

  ‘I’m Becky, he’s Daz. This is our last night on the Riviera, which is why we’re doing this.’

  ‘Becky and Daz, you’re welcome,’ Emily said, raising her glass. She took a sip of champagne, relishing the cold sparkles on the back of her throat, and the warm feeling inside they induced. ‘How did you get past the security gate?’

  ‘There’s a low wall runs along the side over there,’ Daz explained. ‘We spotted it on Google-maps. It’s not a big drop.’

  ‘The previous owners had cactuses there,’ she remembered. ‘Now I know why.’

  ‘Look, we’re not burglars or anything,’ Becky explained. ‘We just kind of, get a kick out of sneaking into people’s pools. I mean, otherwise, they just sit there, not being used, don’t they?’

  ‘It’s OK,’ Emily assured her. As she leant forward her wrap fell open a little, exposing more of her breasts than she’d usually feel comfortable with. But tonight she didn’t care. ‘Tell me about your travels.’

  ‘We’ve been teaching in a school in Bangalore,’ Becky went on. ‘Then we decided to take some time out in Europe before heading back to Australia.’

  ‘What an incredible time you must’ve had.’

  ‘Oh, it’s been amazing,’ Becky said with a broad smile. ‘I wouldn’t have changed a moment. And the Indian kids were just great.’

  Draining her glass, Emily felt that tingle between her thighs again, and a need to be touched, and wanted, and needed. The moon was still shining down brightly, and it felt symbolic, like a cleansing ritual that would wash away her loneliness and depression of the last week, and help her to start life anew. Putting her empty glass down – the burst of bubbles on her tongue had made her feel heady – she got to her feet, allowed her bathrobe to slip off and dived into the pool.

  As she swam a full length, kicking her legs out in a deliberately showy motion, she hoped that a part of her pussy might be visible, and that Becky and Daz would take the initiative and join her.

  ‘Did you try out the wave machine?’ she called out, before pressing a button. As a stream of water gushed towards her, she let it massage her skin, leaning back to stare at the moon. Becky and Daz jumped in after her, and the two women enjoyed the feel of the water-jets against their breasts. Becky’s were fuller and earthier than Emily’s, with large dark nipples. The two of them giggled, splashing each other, while Daz supported them against the current. Emily’s nipples were totally hard now and her breasts tingling, and she wanted more than anything for someone to take them in their mouth and kiss them. Instead, she held them herself, playfully stroking them.

  ‘You’re an amazing woman, if you don’t mind my saying so,’ Daz told her in approval.

  ‘I wish my husband felt the same way.’

  ‘Doesn’t he appreciate you?’ Becky asked, concerned. ‘How could he not appreciate you? You’re amazing. You know something? I’ve never touched a woman’s breasts before, and you have the most beautiful breasts. I’d love to touch them.’

  Emily turned to her. She felt heady and alive, and ready for a new experience. ‘So go ahead.’

  Gently Becky held both her breasts in her hands, rubbing Emily’s nipples and feeling the weight of each cup and the softness of her skin. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ she told her. Then she dropped down to take one in her mouth, and gently licked the tip of Emily’s nipples.

  ‘You have no idea how heavenly that feels,’ Emily sighed, sinking back to where Daz caught her. Now he began stroking her breasts too, watching as his girlfriend switched from one to the other, licking and sucking them.

  ‘Christ, this is amazing,’ he whispered.

  Slowly Daz swam backwards, guiding Emily to the edge of the pool, and then, holding her carefully, allowed her to raise her legs up and float. As the water bumped and bubbled between them, Emily opened her legs, unembarrassed by the strip of pubic hair that rose above the surface, or the fact that she was now exposing herself fully to Becky.

  ‘God, you’re so beautiful,’ Becky whispered. ‘I’ve never seen a woman’s pussy before. At least, not in the flesh. Can I touch you?’

  ‘Please do,’ Emily gasped, as, shyly at first, Becky began to probe the contours that made up her pussy, parting the lips and exploring the colours and textures.

  ‘Will you let me kiss you?’

  In response, Emily simply opened her legs wider, and Becky sank below the water, her tongue lapping gently at her, her hands supporting Emily’s buttocks.

  ‘Oh God, I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Daz gasped. ‘I’ve got the biggest hard-on of my life.’

  The feeling was exquisite, it was a beautiful and a heavenly kind of pleasure, but Emily wanted more. Pulling away, she climbed out of the pool and sat on the edge.

  ‘Look, I’m a happily married woman, even if we are going through a sticky patch at the moment. Tomorrow we’re all heading off in different directions, and we’ll never see each other again. But if you want to, I’d love to make love to you both, right here, in the moonlight. I don’t want it to harm your relationship, so if you have any concerns, we’ll just stop right now, and put this down to too much champagne and a full moon.’

  The couple looked at each other. It was Becky who broke the silence. ‘I want to,’ she said. Then, turning to Daz, she adde
d, ‘In truth, I’ve always wanted to see you do it with another woman. I just figure, if I can picture your cock sliding in and out of someone else when you’re inside me, it would be an amazing turn-on.’

  They climbed out of the pool and joined Emily on the lawn beside the terrace. She refilled their glasses, lying with her legs unselfconsciously apart. ‘Doesn’t it feel fabulous not to care? Not to care about offending or upsetting someone, about rules and morals and other people’s standards? Just to feel free and natural?’

  Becky took a large sip of her champagne and then, giggling, bent down until her face was up close to Emily’s pussy, and allowed the liquid to trickle down it, before licking it off. As Emily sighed in pleasure, Becky carried on, exploring the layers and folds with her tongue until she found Emily’s clitoris.

  ‘Oh God, that’s so amazing,’ Emily sighed, before reaching out to stroke Daz’s engorged cock. ‘Come here.’

  She guided Daz towards her and took him in her mouth, something she hadn’t done with Piers for a long time – too long, perhaps. Stroking his balls, she licked and sucked his cock, enjoying the smoothness of its skin. As he gasped in pleasure, Becky shifted round so that her pussy and anus were now facing Daz, and he plunged his tongue into her.

  ‘Let me,’ Emily said, directing Becky’s pussy over her face. She began to lick her, letting her tongue roam wherever it wanted, enjoying the different textures and tastes it discovered. She’d never done this before but suddenly it seemed the most natural thing in the world. How had she lived all her life without ever having eaten pussy?

  The women readjusted their bodies so that they mirrored each other, lying on their sides, faces pressed luxuriously in each other’s cunts. Emily stared at Becky’s in wonder, at the clump of dark hair, at the dark pink lips she now parted, and the secrets they shielded until she discovered Becky’s clitoris – the pearl in the oyster. As Becky flicked at Emily’s clitoris, Emily did the same to Becky. When Emily changed to swoop along the folds of her pussy, Becky did the same. Simultaneously they dived into each other’s vaginas, before flicking briefly at their anuses and then back to their clits.

  ‘Oh God, I need a cock inside of me,’ Emily sighed. ‘Do you have any condoms?’

  Wordlessly Daz reached in his rucksack to find one, before Becky jumped up to roll it onto him.

  ‘I want you to fuck her,’ she told him gently. ‘Fuck her hard if that’s what she wants. I want to watch you. I want to see close up what it looks like.’

  Before he could plunge inside Emily, though, Becky suddenly pressed two fingers inside Emily’s glistening wet cunt, and began to massage. ‘That’s the place, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘Your g-spot?’

  ‘Oh Christ, yes,’ Emily gasped. She couldn’t remember ever feeling more turned on.

  ‘That’s where you put the pressure,’ Becky told her boyfriend. ‘You press down like that.’ She removed her fingers and guided Daz’s cock inside Emily, staring in approval as he slid inside and out.

  ‘Becky, I want you here,’ Emily gasped, guiding her closer and placing her hand between her thighs. ‘I still want to see your cunt.’

  Becky arranged herself so that Emily’s head rested on her right thigh while her left leg straddled Daz’s shoulders, and her open cunt was near their faces. Daz started to kiss his girlfriend’s pussy, pushing his tongue in deeper and deeper. Emily watched him, thrusting harder and harder against his cock, feeling so turned on she thought she was going to explode, and then, as her orgasm came, deep and powerful, she cried out unselfconsciously again and again and again, her ecstasy ringing out around the valley and skimming over the azure blue sea before reverberating upwards towards the moon.

  ‘Oh my God, that was the most amazing, the biggest orgasm I’ve ever had in my life.’

  Suddenly Daz lost control and thrust violently inside her, harder and harder, before he fell limply on top of her.

  ‘Becky,’ Emily gasped. ‘It’s your turn now. I want you to come on my face.’

  She guided the girl’s pussy above her and took another long, deep look. Becky’s cunt was like a work of art, it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Oh, to have it sculpted and displayed on a mantelpiece. She wanted to remember it forever. But Becky’s needs came first. Emily brushed her tongue hard against her clitoris, before pushing two fingers inside her, as Becky had done earlier to her, and massaging her g-spot.

  ‘Yes, that’s it, that’s exactly it,’ Becky moaned. ‘Oh God, that feels amazing. Oh God, don’t stop. Oh God, just carry on, oh God, oh –’

  Suddenly Becky came with such force that her juices drenched Emily’s face – Emily could feel them running down her chin and could smell that sweet, strange, unmistakeable smell of sex.

  ‘That was the most intense sexual experience I’ve ever had,’ Becky exclaimed, falling heavily onto the lawn beside them.

  ‘Me, too,’ Emily agreed, as Daz handed them their champagne glasses. ‘I’m so glad you chose my pool for skinny dipping, I can’t tell you.’

  She stroked Becky’s breasts affectionately, before giving Daz’s flaccid prick a final kiss. Suddenly exhausted, Emily lay back and closed her eyes.

  When she woke up, hours later on the dewy grass, Daz and Becky had gone, and the moon was sinking below the horizon. Emily was alone, but she didn’t feel lonely. She wrapped her bathrobe around herself and went inside to fix a pot of coffee; then she returned to the pool terrace to watch the sunrise.

  What she’d just done had been a once-in-a-lifetime thing, she told herself. Something she’d always remember, but about which she would never tell a soul. It was nothing to be ashamed of; it would just be her secret, that was all.

  As the sun rose, warming her skin, she sank back on a sun-lounger to welcome it. Suddenly a glint of something caught her eye, and she got up for a closer look. There, hidden in a pot of geraniums, where she’d looked a dozen times before, was her diamond ring. A huge sense of relief rushing over her, Emily slipped it on her finger, where it belonged.

  The Key

  by Landon Dixon

  I was leaning against the wall, in the dark, waiting for a bus, when a woman came flying around the corner of the building, high heels tattooing the sidewalk, trench-coat billowing out behind her.

  She just about ran past me. But then she spotted me in the shadows, shrinking into the wall, and ran up to me. She pressed herself against me and gasped, ‘Help me! Please help me!’

  Then she kissed me.

  It was dark. I couldn’t see her clearly. But I could feel her, hot and panting, through every fibre of my being. And I could smell her, honeysuckle perfume mixed with the harsh tang of cold sweat. And I could taste her, warm and wet, her mouth engulfing mine – tongue transferring a smooth metal object into my mouth.

  Then she was gone, pulling away from me and running off down the sidewalk, to be swallowed up by the night.

  I stood there, stunned, hardly believing what had just happened. Nothing like that ever happened to me. I spat out what she’d put in my mouth into my hand. It was a key, a small stainless steel key. I didn’t understand.

  Two men came barrelling around the corner. I looked up, and they spotted the whites of my eyes, the glint of the key just before my hand closed over it.

  They skidded to a stop in front of me, and one of them growled, ‘Give it to us!’ He didn’t wait for a reply, grabbing my wrist and twisting. While the other pinned my shoulders up against the brick wall, breathing garlic and onions in my face.

  They were big men, bad men. I had no business tangling with them; I was a small man, a decent man. But something came over me, inspired by the mysterious woman and her breathless kiss in the dark. I kneed the mouth-breather in the groin. He bent double. I punched the other man in the back of the head, and he staggered out into the street.

  I clutched the damp little key in my fist and ran as fast as
I could in the same direction as the woman. The darkness swallowed me up, as well.

  I hid out in my apartment, calling in sick to the bank where I work. I wasn’t sure what to do. I’d never been in a situation like this before. I was just an ordinary guy with an ordinary job leading an ordinary life. Nothing in my humdrum existence had prepared me for something like this.

  The sensible thing, I concluded, was to go to the police. Let them get a good laugh at the little man with the big story about the woman and the goons and the key. But as I looked at the key, I thought about where it had come from, how I’d received it. I thought long and hard about that. And decided sensible was the last thing I was going to be from now on.

  I could still feel and smell and taste the woman two days later. I wanted more of what she had offered me, and I was sure I could get it.

  The next night I went back to that lonely bus stop in that semi-deserted neighbourhood, same late hour as before. I leaned up against the wall, in the dark, and waited.

  It was a warm night, and sweat prickled my forehead and rolled down my sides. I was wearing a light windbreaker and a white dress shirt and black dress pants, my brown hair neatly combed to the side. I waited.

  ‘Hello.’

  I jerked my head around. I’d been looking off in the other direction, at the building corner where she’d first come rushing into my life two nights earlier. ‘H-hello,’ I gulped.

  She was wearing the trench-coat, cinched tight at the waist now, her hair loose and flowing over her shoulders. In her high heels, she was almost as tall as I was. She said, ‘I wanted to thank you for getting me out of that jam the other night.’

  Her voice was throaty, husky, sexy, like it’d been textured by many cigarettes and much whiskey. Her honeysuckle perfume flooded my senses again, as she drew nearer. ‘It was my … pleasure,’ I said.

  She laughed. ‘I believe you have something of mine.’

  I was ready for that. ‘How … how do I know you’re the same woman?’

 

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