by Nicci Haydon
What if someone sees us?
It was an irrational thought. The houses were built too far apart, the angle was too steep. Even so, it took hold and I pushed her away from me, pulled the blouse closed over my belly.
“What is it?” Her mouth was still parted as it had been against me, forming a perfect “O”. Her lips were full, soft, seductive. Not like mine. The dress had fallen away from her left breast, exposing firm, dark flesh, a plum-coloured areola, a lighter nipple that turned up at the tip.
“I'm not... this doesn't feel right.”
“If you don't like it I'll stop licking there. We can -”
I shook my head and she hesitated.
“I want you.”
“I'm married.”
“Me too.”
She pulled the dress up to cover her nipple, had to hold it there to stop it falling. Her eyes searched my face and she pressed her lips together, licked them, then laughed. “There's nothing wrong with what we're doing. Just enjoy it.”
“What if someone catches us?”
I know what I should have said. I should have argued that it was cheating, that I didn't want to betray my husband like that. I took vows, made promises. I was happy. But I didn't say those things. Katrin heard my words, not my thoughts.
She smiled. “I'll pull the curtains.” As she slipped off the bed I couldn't avoid watching her ass. It wasn't big, wasn't curvy, but it moved back and forth as she walked. The curtains swished and clinked, cutting us off from the reality of the outside world.
Katrin was such a sweet girl. Such a beautiful young creature. Dark and pretty, and so full of energy, like a bunny in the spring. She turned and grinned at me. “There.” Then she returned to the bed and pulled my hands away from my stomach, letting her own dress fall away again. I hadn't fastened any of the buttons on my blouse, and she went right back to undoing them.
She had seen my breasts the day before but that was at a distance. Today, I'd put on a lacy bra just for her, one that lifted and separated them. As she finished unbuttoning the blouse and pulled it open she met my eyes, smiled, leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips. “Don't look so nervous. You are... amazing.”
“Are you sure? I feel so old beside you.”
She shook her head. “Don't say that.”
“It's true.”
“It isn't.” She pulled the bra straps off my shoulders, inched them down until my breasts fell free. “That's better.” A fingernail scraped across my breast, sending tingling shivers through the nerve endings, then rested against my nipple. “Can I?” She looked into my eyes, waited for my permission.
I think, in that moment, I fell for her. What had been lust was replaced, suddenly, with something else. Love, yes, but bigger. Adoration. Admiration. I knew now what she meant when she whispered to me in her garden, the night of her house warming.
Men are not the best for sex.
She was right. Men existed only in the physical world, the world of skin and sweat, erections and shouts and orgasms. They could be tender and gentle or they could be hard and fast. But women were different.
I nodded. “Please.”
That made her laugh again. She seemed to spend a lot of her time laughing, because to Katrin the world was so full of amusement. The feel of her lips closing around my nipple made me gasp, made my ears ring. The touch of her teeth, gently nipping. I took a sharp breath, then wrapped my arms around her and felt my way to her ass, took hold, lifted until she was kneeling.
As I grabbed handfuls of her cotton dress and lifted it up, she raised her arms. It rustled over her skin and made her shiver. My fingertips brushed over her ribs, made her giggle and bite harder on my nipple, forcing me to grit my teeth.
She laughed as she pulled away, sucked my nipple until it fell out of her mouth, then blew on it, making me shiver with cold. The dress came over her head and I tossed it away.
I admired her body. So lithe, so slim. Her knees were pressed tightly together, her thighs meeting, a dark patch spreading up over the smooth fabric of her thong. Damp. Ready. I reached behind me, unclasped my bra, removed it and dropped it on the floor. That made her grin and she shook her head so that her short hair swished around it. I reached out, brushed my fingertips through it, then held the back of her head and pulled her forward.
She closed her eyes, and I kissed her lips. They tasted salty, her tongue felt slick against my own. Her hand snaked between us, down over her belly. She moved so that she could slip it inside her panties. I could smell her natural scent now, sweet and damp.
We fell together onto the bed, her hand still moving at her crotch. I kissed down her belly, then pulled the waistband of her thong off her hips, inched it down her thighs. Two of her fingers slid back and forth along her pussy and I watched them separate and caress the lips. She breathed in time, and I tried to match her as I moved slowly forward and held her wrist while I lapped at the tender flaps of skin.
Her fingers changed pattern, began dipping in and out, finding her sweet spot while I licked and lapped at her lips and clit. The sound of her irregular breathing made me wet. Her scent was so strong, so sweet. I had thought that she was shaved clean, but a pencil line of tiny hairs led up over her mound, invisible from any less intimate distance. It made me feel privileged, special. I took a breath and then lapped harder.
As she began to moan I fumbled with my skirt, an above-the-knee wrap around. It came free easily and I let it drop, kicking it away. She let out a bleat, and I kissed up over her pelvis, abdomen, between her breasts and along her neck. She opened her eyes and smiled, then sighed as she orgasmed.
“Thank... you...” She panted. “I...” She shook her head and gave a low moan.
A few moments later she began to catch her breath. Then she did something unexpected. She rolled over onto her belly, lifted herself into a kneeling position, and raised her ass.
“Please.” She raised it further. Bare, taut skin pointed upwards as she lowered her torso further into the bed, put her head into her arms. “I need it.”
I reached out and barely touched her ass with my fingertips. Dampness, like dew, still glistened on her bare pussy.
She shivered. “Do it. I need it.”
“I don't...”
“Please, Monica.”
I knew what she was asking. I laid my palm flat against her ass. It felt smooth like silk. I raised my hand and slapped the palm against her skin.
She mewled. “Again.” A breath. “Harder.”
I caressed her ass, rubbed my hand around in a circle, then slapped it again. This time she jumped and pressed further into the bed.
“Again. Claim me.”
I slapped her again and she wiggled her hips so that my fingers brushed around and over the skin. “Are you mine?”
She moaned.
My hand slapped against her skin. “Are you mine?”
“Yes. Whenever you want me, I'll be here.”
“Whenever I want you?”
“Whenever.” She turned her head, crawled over to me and kissed my lips. “Thank you.” She looked into my eyes. “Your turn.”
When her tongue dipped inside my pussy I thought I might cover her with my own fluid. I was so hypersensitive that it sent shivers through my whole body. She discarded my panties somewhere on the floor and crawled all over me while I lay back against the soft pillows, raised my arms over my head and fought against an early orgasm. At times I thought my mind might explode. My nipples ached like never before, my pussy dripped, my hair stuck to my face with sweat. She explored me, then when I begged her to stop we just lay together, held each other, and listened to the distant hum of a lawn mower.
***
I woke with a loud, single drum beat.
Or that's what it sounded like. Like a bass drum thumping, followed by a shout. “I have just sealed the motherfucking mother of all fucking deals.” The voice faded, sounds of cupboards being opened and closed. “Hon?”
My chest went tight. “Shit.�
� I hissed the word as I pushed the covers away. I felt like I was drowning in them, drowning in the smell of us, the smell of sex and sweat. “Katrin, wake up.” I shook her, perhaps a little too hard. I could hear Tristram still muttering to himself. Still downstairs, for now. “Katrin!”
She rolled over, smiled up at me. “Hi.” Her eyes traced down over my body. My naked body.
Fuck. Shit. Balls.
I shook my head. “It's Tristram.”
“What? What time is it?”
“Never mind that, what are we going to do?”
She grinned. “He won't care. You're not a man. I think he will like it.”
Tristram started whistling some pop song or other. I could hear him moving through the downstairs rooms. “Katrin?”
“I need to hide.”
I glanced around the room. My clothes were everywhere, strewn in crumpled heaps like discarded scruples. I jumped off the bed and bundled them together without looking, gathered them into my arms.
“Just leave them,” Katrin whispered. “Come back to bed. I will tell Tristram the truth and he will promise not to tell Martin.”
I shook my head. “No. I can't risk it.”
She pulled the hair back from her face, yawned and stretched. The sheets fell away from her, leaving her nude and enticing. I wanted to climb back into bed with her, and I also wanted to throttle her. Her eyes met mine and she pursed her lips.
Tristram's footsteps on the stairs made me physically jump.
“I have to hide, Katrin. Now.”
She nodded and pointed. “In the wardrobe.”
It was like a sudden stay of execution. I bolted for the wardrobe and climbed inside, leaned back among clothes that smelled of spring fresh fabric conditioner and hugged in around me. It was dark, shadowy. Safe.
“Katrin?”
“It's too early,” she replied, “you should be at work.”
“It's not like you to be indoors...” He trailed off as he came into view in the bedroom doorway and stood there, swaying a little. “What are you...?”
Shallow breathing was all I could do to keep myself quiet. What was I thinking? The wardrobe? Where's the first place a suspicious husband will look? I wondered whether I could slip my clothes on in the tight space, and whether that would actually make things any better if he found me.
“I didn't expect you home.”
“I settled a big deal, thought I'd take the afternoon... What's going on?” He looked her up and down.
She didn't bother to cover herself up. “What do you think I do while you're at work all day?”
Surely she won't drop me in it, after everything...
Katrin smirked. “I've been masturbating, silly.”
His eyes narrowed and he licked his lips. Was there a slight bulge in his trousers? Did that mean that he believed her or didn't? He looked around the room, then nodded, reached his hands up and started unfastening his tie.
“What are you doing?” Katrin raised her eyebrows.
“What?”
“You're supposed to be at work.”
He gave her a half smile. “I've taken the afternoon off.”
Oh shit.
“So...?”
Tristram pulled the tie loose, unfastened his top button, then paused. “Oh come on, babe, I'll jump in with you.”
“No way. You'll stink of boy sweat and that coffee that Chloe makes for you. Besides, I'm enjoying myself.” He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. “Shower.”
His shoulders fell and he licked his lips. “I wish I hadn't come home now.”
“If you're a good boy then I'll join you.” She pushed the covers down, exposing her pussy, ran a finger gently along her slit. “When I'm done.”
He stared at her as if he'd never seen her before, then blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. Katrin grinned and he nodded.
Then he headed straight for me.
My heart pounded in my chest.
“Tristram!” He stopped as Katrin screamed the word at him. “While you're at work, this is my bedroom. So get the fuck out of my bedroom!”
“But I'm -”
“Out.” She stopped masturbating and raised her arm, pointing back the way he came in.
“Can't I just put my suit away...?”
“Shower. Now.”
He huffed like a spoilt child, but he turned around nevertheless. A moment later I heard the bathroom door click closed and the hiss of water. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, clutching my bundle of clothes to my chest like it was a baby.
“You can come out now.”
I sighed, then climbed out of the wardrobe. She was smirking at me and shaking her head. The sheets were still pushed down, her body exposed, and now that the danger was gone I couldn't help enjoying the sight of her. That dark skin, those firm breasts. My stomach did a little somersault. She had chosen me. Of all the people in the world, this gorgeous woman had chosen me.
“He wouldn't have minded,” Katrin said.
“I have to go, before he wonders what's going on and comes to see.”
“He'll be masturbating, he always does. We have another half an hour at least.”
I laughed. “I have to go, Katrin.”
She turned her lips in mock disappointment. “Fine. Tomorrow?”
I pulled on my panties, didn't bother with my bra. I still wanted to be out of there as quickly as I could. “We'll see.” My blouse was creased and crumpled, but I think they're supposed to be like that these days.
“That's a yes then.” She stifled a grin.
I didn't answer. I didn't have to. Once I'd fastened my skirt and slipped on my sandals I turned away, headed for the door.
“Monica?”
I turned my head and she blew a kiss at me.
I left her house with a smile on my face.
***
Martin looked horrified.
At first.
He stared at me across the table, held his fork suspended in mid air, floating just out of reach of his mouth. So I did it again. My foot slid up the inside of his calf, catching in the folds of his trousers. His eyes half closed, his mouth dropped open.
“Hey!” Peter yelled at his sister. I didn't see what happened. I didn't care.
Martin stared at me as my foot reached higher, then he took a sharp breath, sat up straighter. “Peter! Beth! That's enough!”
I had to cover my mouth to hide my laughter. I let my foot slide down again, then turned on mommy mode.
“Hey, hey, calm down, you two.”
“She -”
“Ah!” I cut him off. “I don't want to hear it. If you've finished then you can both go and do your homework. Go on.”
Peter sulked, but he went. Beth followed. Oscar was at my mother's, so that just left the two of us, watching each other across the dinner table.
I let my toes find their way back between Martin's legs. “Monica...”
“Martin.”
He drew a sharp breath as my foot found his crotch. “What are you...” A small sound escaped his mouth. “Fuck,” he whispered as I began to massage.
“Aren't you going to eat that?” I looked down at his plate. There were still a few forkfuls of lasagne. His mouth worked but no sound came out. “Eat it.”
He stared at me - as well as he could stare with his eyelids drifting open and closed.
“Eat it.” I continued to massage his cock with my foot, felt it pressing hard against the front of his trousers, eager to get out.
His hand shook as he gingerly lifted his fork and dug into the remaining lasagne. My mouth tried to break into a smile, but I wouldn't let it. The fork danced, rose, dropped, missed his mouth twice before it found its mark. The next was the same, then the next. Each time the fork got near his mouth, I'd press my foot into his balls and make him twitch.
When I couldn't hold it back any longer, I snorted a laugh and dropped my foot, then stood from the table and went around to him. “Come on.”
/> “Where...?”
I took his hand and pulled him out of his chair, then stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. It was a wild kiss, passionate. I felt his cock pressing against the inside of my thigh, tasted the salt of his mouth, felt a day's stubble scratch against my cheek. It was the kind of kiss that we'd never shared, the kind that speaks of more than love. Desire. Lust. Pure and carnal, untainted by higher thoughts. The kind of kiss that I had shared with Katrin.
When we broke apart he shook his head, breathing heavily. “What has gotten into you today?”
I smirked, shrugged, didn't answer. Instead I met his eyes, turned, and led the way.
“Monica, the kids...”
“We'll barricade the door.”
When I laid him down on our bed, and crawled up over him, any protest was forgotten. I saw desire in his eyes, smelled my own scent. His shirt clung to him as I peeled it away, damp with sweat. I knelt over him and kissed his chest, then dipped my tongue inside his belly button, as she had done to me earlier. Then, as he gasped and writhed, trying desperately to keep quiet, I fucked him like a porn star.
“You're beautiful,” he gasped, and I grinned and felt like a goddess.
When Katrin's face came into my mind, and I thought about the things I'd like to do to her - the things I would do to her - I didn't feel guilty. After all, this was her gift to us. The kissing, the play. I imagined Martin's palm against my buttocks and it made me grin. He would get the best of me, but she was right.
Men are definitely not the best for sex.
Strawberries and Cream
Please enjoy this complete bonus story, set in the world of my upcoming “Love All” series. You’ll never think of tennis in the same way again…
***
Katrin watched as the ball evaded Maria Szekeres' outstretched racket, bounced inside the tramlines and quickly lost momentum, rolling to the back of the court. Her partner, Milosh Bukolov, looked dejected for a moment, then quickly recovered himself and joined her at the baseline where they whispered together.