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That Most Decadent Summer

By: mandywilluk2000



Summers seem to have a very strong effect on me. But then I guess lots of people might say that. I wonder, though, how many people have found summers to be so influential on their sex life and sexuality as me? Not many I suspect.

I lost my virginity in the school summer holidays when I was eighteen. Later that summer, before going to uni., I had a fling with a married man fifteen years older than me. After leaving university and starting work in an ad agency I had my first work affair, well two actually with an Art Director and a Media Planner. And the next summer I fucked my first client and I also fucked my first woman. I met my husband in a summer and we had sex for the first time that same summer. See what I mean about a strong effect?

And so it had gone on when I was young. Summer meant one thing to me, sex. And now so many years later it was happening all over again.

It was turning into a crazy summer. It was a time of excess, three months of decadence, a season of sexual intensities and behavioural extremes. It was a period where I was acting so out of character, or was I?

I can make excuses. The big four five was looming. My marriage was being strained by my husband's murderous work schedule. I was lonely. Even that the summer was one of the hottest on record. But they are excuses, not justifiable reasons. And for the excesses of that decadent summer, there can be no justifiable reasons.

When I say excesses that is of course relative to my normal life; you will need to judge how much excess there is to anyone else's.

When that summer began, Charles and I had been married for twenty two years. In the main, they had been good years. We had two lovely children, a boy and a girl, both of whom had inherited Charles' brains. Our son was on an honours degree at Cambridge, our daughter was on her gap year travelling in south east Asia and Australia. We were comfortably off financially and we had a beautiful house in Highgate, North London and a lovely villa in Tuscany. 

Charles was an immensely successful corporate lawyer for one of the top legal firms in the world. He specialised in M & A, which he told me was mergers and acquisitions; in my language they were takeovers. 

Ever since I had known him, just after he left law school, he had worked hard and long. I would have thought at the age of forty eight having been a partner for nearly ten years the hours and workload would have diminished. They hadn't, if anything they had increased. 

I had been told by several of his colleagues that Charles was unique in the London legal world, for he was as qualified and knowledgeable about USA commercial law as he was about English. Big deal. What it really meant was that he spent about half his time in New York and Washington leaving me to fend for myself. That was not something I was not used to or had really minded in the past. But for some reason that summer it got to me.

We had rowed quite a lot. I knew full well that he had some excellent staff and I kept saying that he should send them occasionally, but he wouldn't. From the years I had been with Charles I knew that he was a control freak and that delegation would be difficult for him. It so frustrated me, though, that he just did not seem to try and when they were working on a deal he would often work fifteen hours a day, seven days a week, including a return trip, sometimes for a few hours meeting, to New York. 

Up until this stage in my marriage I was pretty content. Before I met Charles I had worked in advertising as a copywriter. Our mutual appreciation of the written word had been a bonding influence on us. When I had the children I had stopped working, but as they got older so I resumed firstly on a freelance basis. When our son went to boarding school I had more time on my hands and with a friend, I started an advertising, promotions and marketing agency. 

It was fun and oddly, because neither Amanda nor I put that much effort into it, it was a success. For both of us, though, it was more a hobby than a business. That may well be the reason why, at the start of that fateful summer, we employed fifteen people and had really swish offices in trendy Camden town, just down the road from where I lived in Highgate.

I had known Amanda for years, since well before her divorce from her husband Kevin. We had met when we were both in our early twenties, straight out of university and were junior copywriters at a massive, global ad agency. That was before I had met Charles. Kevin was a client of the agency. He had a business that packaged and distributed, mainly laboratories to oilfields all over the world. The advertising and promotions he required was not glamorous; no TV or film, posters or major media ads. That's why junior writers such as Mandy and I got allocated to the account. Well that's what we were told by the Account Directors, I have strong suspicions, however, that the real reason was that Kevin, who was then in his mid thirties, preferred young bits of stuff like Mandy and me to long-haired scruffy male writers. It was actually really easy stuff so we were quite capable of handling Kevin's account. What neither of us was quite so capable of handling was Kevin. We both committed the cardinal ad agency sin of fucking the client. That Amanda then went on to marry him helped her survive in that agency, I wasn't so lucky and was pushed out.

It was another few years before I met and then married Charles. Mandy and I were each Matrons of Honour at the others wedding. 

Ever since I had slept with Kevin those four or five times, I had my suspicions that even after taking up seriously with Amanda, he was looking for more with me. The glances, the 'accidental' touches, lingering looks, ogles at my boobs and legs and seemingly innocent double entendres all suggested that he was. But she was my best friend, I was 'promised' to another and, more and more, I was beginning to see him as the bastard he eventually turned out to be when the divorce proceedings showed that he was a serial adulterer, so I didn't take him up. But there always had been a strong attraction between us, I suppose deep down I always fancied him.

Oh, I think I forgot to explain that when we committed the ad industry's cardinal sin with Kevin, we did it together. Yes we had a threesome with him. The fact that he had shagged me and probably Amanda several times before that was never discussed and didn't seem to be of any particular importance, but then that was back in the early eighties and we were both young.

****

It was her birthday and he had taken her out to lunch. Around four, a slurring Amanda came on the phone to tell me that she wouldn't be back that afternoon. "Kevin and I are having a meeting," she giggled.

"Yeah I bet," I laughed as I agreed to tidy her desk.

"We are," she insisted adding. "And Kevin wants you to join us."

I fell for it, thinking that maybe she wasn't as pissed as she seemed.

"OK where? At his office? When?"

"As soon as you can Claire and no not the office."

"Where then?"

I heard some giggling and the phone went dead for a moment then she came back.

"Room six twenty in the Gordon," she said naming a local, upscale hotel.

I suppose I was naïve, or simply didn't think, but I assumed it was a meeting room so I packed up, told my boss that I was joining Amanda and Kevin at a meeting in the Gordon and off I trotted.

I remember it was a burning hot, August day. After having the sun scorching it since early morning, London becomes unbearable so the five minute walk was rather unpleasant. The coolness of the air conditioning as I walked into the lobby of the hotel was, therefore, lovely.

I was wearing a simple, loose, cornflour blue dress, I remember. It was on the knee in length, had a halter neck with short sleeves and a slightly flared skirt. Unlike Amanda who has superb, full, round breasts, mine are small. Even just after the children were born, they never really exceeded B cup size. In the grunge dominated fashion of the early nineties, bra's were by no means an essential part of a woman's wardrobe and I frequently went without. That was, and still is, such a lovely feeling on a hot day, as it was on that day.

To say I was shocked when Amanda opened the door to six twenty would be the understatement of the year for me, well more the understatement of my life. She stood behind the door as she opened it so all I saw was her head with the mass of unruly chestnut hair. It was not until I was inside and she was closing the door I saw what she was wearing. That was the real shock, for she was wrapped in a towel.

"What on earth......" I started saying only to be interrupted by Kevin who had appeared round a corner.

"Hi Claire, thanks for coming," he said, making them both burst into fits of giggles. I looked at him and had the second major shock for he too was wearing just a towel.

Looking back, it always seemed amazing how things went. How they moved so quickly and how, from never having mentioned anything about sex between Mandy and me, and certainly not together with Kevin, we were in bed our bodies entwined having three-way sex. 

They were both slightly pissed, that was obvious, but then it was her birthday and they'd had a long and obviously boozy lunch; that's how advertising was back then. Amanda got back into bed still wearing the towel and Kevin, with his towel wrapped round his waist, sat on a chair, his back to the window, his feet on the edge of the bed. Still fully dressed, I perched on the bed sort of between them and quite near to Kevin's feet, sipping a glass of champagne he had poured for me. We talked mainly about agency things. It was all rather sterile and not at all as sexy as one would think with one girl as good as naked in bed, a man who had clearly had sex with her clad in just a towel and another girl, who had also been shagged by the man, sitting on the bed. But then I had no idea what to expect, never having been in such a situation before.

It wasn't sexy at first, but when Amanda suddenly sat up, the bedclothes fell away from her showing that the towel had also come unwrapped and we both saw her tits, bare and full, it started to become so. At that time, though, I had no idea what might happen. I had never really had thoughts or feelings about sex with a woman, other than the usual curiosity practically all girls have.

"I wasn't sure you would come," Kevin said, setting off another fit of giggles between them.

"I thought you would," Amanda said, not bothering I saw to pull the sheet up. 

'She's got nice breasts,' I thought, my eyes probably dwelling on them longer than they should

"I assume you guessed we weren't having a meeting," Kevin said, his foot softly pressing against my upper leg. "Well not a business one at least," he smiled.

"I didn't know," I said lamely, feeling confused for the earlier lack of anything sexy had gone and had been replaced by a highly erotic atmosphere.

"Well you knew it was my birthday, didn't you, so you must have guessed we would be celebrating," Amanda said adding. "And boy what a celebration Kevin."

"Yes Mandy it was something else," he said, now quite obviously pressing his bare toes against my leg. It felt nice.

"Pity you didn't come earlier," Amanda said, as they both laughed; I joined in too as she went on. "We could have all come together then couldn't me?"

What the hell was going on? Was Amanda propositioning me? Were they trying to get me into bed with them? I began to think they were as Kevin was now rubbing his foot up and down my outer leg and Amanda had laid back on the pile of pillows, the sheet round her waist, her full breasts completely on view.

"I wasn't asked was I?" I retorted, probably sounding far more assured and confident than I was feeling.

"Would you have come earlier?" She asked looking right at me.

"Not sure." I replied.

Kevin's foot slid down my leg to my bare knee. I felt him wiggle his toes under the hem of my dress and start to move upwards taking the dress with it.

"It would have been nice if you had Clare," he said.

We went on like that for a few more minutes as I finished the first and got well into the second glass of champagne. As I did that, so his foot was now lifting my skirt well past half way up my outer leg, his toes giving me lovely sensations on my skin.

It was then that Amanda suddenly uttered what were probably the most erotic words I had ever heard up to that point in my sexual career.

"So why don't we make up for lost time Clare."

"How?" I asked.

Her reply hit me like a kick in the stomach. "Why not take your clothes off and join in with us Clare?"

God it sounded so sexy, so raunchy and horny, but inexplicably and amazingly it also sounded hugely inviting and just right, I suppose. 

I can't believe that I only hesitated for the briefest moment; perhaps a latent desire to be an exhibitionist came to the fore. I suddenly found myself standing up, reaching down and taking hold of the hem of the dress and in one flowing moment, pulling it up and over my head and dropping it on the floor. The silence as they say was deafening as for a few moments they both just stared at me, I quite liked that. It was even nicer when Kevin said,

"Wow, Clare, you have a great body."

"Oh baby," Amanda mewed. "You are gorgeous."

I thought both were being rather generous, for my body was far too slim and angular to be considered great and gorgeous and me were not natural bedfellows. I suppose the term that I felt most summed me up was one I had overheard someone use about me. "That willowy blonde new copywriter.' 

Willowy blonde was how I had then considered myself and that had stuck in my mind through to now. It was now how I would described myself.

"How about lying on the bed, Clare?" Kevin suggested.

Just a few hours ago such a question would have been quite outrageous to me. Now, though, it seemed perfectly appropriate and, on top of that hugely appealing. I clambered onto the bed and lay beside Amanda, who smiled and whispered. 

"Hi Clare, welcome." 

As she did that, she pushed the sheet down and off her totally naked body. I was mesmerised. I just stared at my friend. Before that moment, I had never looked at her sexually, but as she slowly revealed her rounded, full breasted body to me, she became the most erotic thing I had ever seen. My whole being was consumed with such an extreme desire to be made love to by her that I felt as if I might orgasm simply by looking at her and imagining that. 

Smiling, she reached out and stroked my wrist. I just looked at her. She ran her fingertips up my arm and rested them on my shoulder as she leaned forward a little. That made her breasts wobble so deliciously, they hung down so erotically and as she moved her hand they swayed. They were like beacons to me, they were so appealing as if they were extending an invitation to me. All of the bi curiosity I'd had for the past few years seemed to surface and Amanda's breasts became the focus of my desires and now, I recognised, needs.

I felt Kevin's weight on the bed and he put his hand on my back. He slid his body against mine. I was lying slightly on my right side and I felt his erection pressing against my bum. The other times he had done that and in any other circumstances than these, that would have been such a wonderfully sexy feeling. But with Amanda moving closer to me and her breasts dangling right before my eyes, the feel of his cock became almost an irrelevance. 'God how can I even think that?' I asked myself looking from Amanda's breasts to her eyes and returning her smile. She raised her eyebrows, clearly asking a question as her hand slid round the back of my neck. She looked so gorgeous. Her long, wavy chestnut coloured hair was tumbling down over her slightly tanned shoulders. Her full breasts were right in front of me as was her narrow waist, flat stomach and shapely legs. I could see quite plainly that her hair was natural. She was pulling on the back of my neck. It could only mean one thing, be a gesture that meant only one action, be an invitation, a request or, maybe a demand for me to do just one thing. As I saw her slightly arching her back and pushing her chest forward so I let my upper body and my head go with the pressure she was applying. We moved towards each other at the same time and pace. Nearer and nearer. It was as if my all my bisexual dreams and fantasies were coming to fruition. Everything I had visualised, imagined and masturbated about with regard to woman to woman sex appeared to be concentrated into those two delightful orbs that were now nearly brushing against my face. Amanda sat up, she took one of her boobs in her hand and lifted it. It was such an obvious, but so erotic a gesture that a small sob escaped from my mouth as she whispered the second most erotic phrase I had ever heard.

"Would you like to feel my breasts Clare?"

My heart seemed to crash against my ribs as the enormity of her question hit me. I gasped and a low moan slipped from my lips.

"Would you Clare?" She persisted.

"Yes," I stammered.

She smiled and went on softly, almost huskily.

"Would you like to play with my tits, Clare?"

"Oh God," I groaned. "Yes Amanda, yes I would."

"Then feel them for me Clare," she whispered as my hand reached out and touched them. They felt amazing.

"Mmmm, nice," she said as I cupped both orbs and ran my fingertips across her, already hard, nipples. "You like?"

"Oh yes, yes, Amanda," I groaned, stroking and cupping, pressing and squeezing my friend's boobs. 

We caught each other's glance and we both smiled as I continued fondling her gorgeous tits. The look in her eyes as my hands gave her quite evident pleasure and excitement sent a surge of pleasure and arousal through me. It made me feel so good to realise how I was affecting my friend. I liked that.

In almost a growl she said. "Suck my nipples Clare, please suck my tits." The words crashed into my mind as I rea;lised just how far I was going in such a short time.

I did and it was all and more I had imagined for so long that it would be. Then Kevin joined in as well. I was in somewhat of a conflict about that. On the one hand I felt a slight resentment to him. It was as if he was intruding. Amanda and I had started something that I badly wanted to finish and, in a way, Kevin's involvement prevented that. On the other hand, though, in my mind, his presence sort of legitimised the situation. It made my involvement with another woman more ok. I wasn't being lesbian for there was a man involved too. So, as I indulged myself on my friends' ample breasts and as I parted my legs to enable her hand to touch where I most needed to be touched, the feel of a man's hard cock on my bum and his hands on my nipples were welcome participants. 

We moved around quite a lot, far more than I was used to when having sex one to one. Kevin had Amanda on one side of him and me on the other. He put his arms round both of us and pulled us towards him. He kissed me, then Amanda and then me again. I saw Amanda run her hand down his fairly hairy chest and slip her fingers slightly into where the towel was wrapped round him. The champagne and the combination of that, seeing the shape of his erection through the towel, Amanda's naked breasts, him kissing me and now stroking my breasts was immensely arousing.

It took just a few more moments for the three of us to be kissing and touching each other and just a few more for his towel to be removed and my panties to come off.

So that was my initiation into girly stuff and threesome sex. As Kevin firstly shagged me, then Amanda and I made love and then she and he shagged, neither of us let on to the other that he had fucked us individually before. It was some years until we admitted that to each other.


That Most Decadent Summer



****

Time moved on. Kevin and Amanda married, I met Charles and we married, both couples had children and we lived our lives. We drifted apart, both us couples, Charles felt Kevin was a little flash and rather coarse, and Amanda and me as individuals. 

Oddly, in some ways I always thought, Amanda and I never had sex together alone, if that makes sense. We had another session with Kevin a few weeks later, which was fine, but a further one went wrong when jealousy reared its head: it can be awfully difficult watching a man you fancy like hell shag another woman, even if she is your best friend and you will get to fuck her shortly. Our final 'involvement' was on holiday in Switzerland when we got drunk and ended up in bed with a ski instructor. The next morning we thought it had gone rather well, so we repeated it on the next two nights. That was the end of my adventures into threesomes and largely into girls as well. I did have a couple of one to one flings, but to be honest, I actually got bored with it. In any case Charles was now in the picture and was absorbing my sexual curiosity and fulfilling my sexual needs.

It was years before Amanda and started to see each other again. It was when she and Kevin were in the throes of parting. They did that a couple of times, before having a final break and then starting divorce proceedings. 

I was surprised how easily we got on after all those years. It wasn't long before she was telling me how awful her marriage was and I was sympathising and telling her how I sometimes wondered whether I was really married, so often was Charles away or at work.

Not once did we bring up our sexually involved past. It really was a classic 'swept under the carpet' issue and, mixing metaphors dreadfully, a topic that simply 'never reared its head;' in fact we had never really talked about it, even when we were involved.

She and Kevin had started a business together, which was involved with marketing and promotions within the oil and gas industry. It was aligned to his original oilfield laboratory business, but was run by Amanda and had become very successful, probably adding more to the already bulging family coffers than the original business. Hence, when they divorced she sold him her part of the business and walked away a very wealthy lady indeed. 

Wealthy, but bored and lonely, a set of conditions I completely understood, for they were so close to mine.

I guess it was because we were both a little worried about becoming fully paid up members of the 'ladies who lunch' club that we started the business.

That was some two years ago now, two years before this summer of decadence.

This started at Amanda's daughter's birthday party, she was thirteen. Whilst none of us were Jewish, she and Kevin had we lived in a Jewish area and we all had numerous friends of that faith. As a result, the age of thirteen took on more importance than in most gentile communities. So it was a biggish party, held at Amanda's parents' house.

Inevitably, Charles couldn't make it so I had to go alone, something that was becoming relationship damaging and possibly beginning to ruin it.

Amanda had been telling me recently that she had been seeing more of Kevin. After the breakup and then the divorce, she totally refused to see him at all. Due to issues and situations affecting their daughter, she had recently relented and they had met several times. At first, it was, she had told, me very frosty. After a few meetings, though, she confided that things got easier.

"Do you know, Clare," she told me one Monday after there had been something on at Sara's school during the weekend. "I'm sure the bastard was trying it on with me."

Over the next few months she reported that he was becoming more and familiar with her when they were alone.

"Are you tempted?" I asked one day when we were having lunch in a local Italian.

"In a way, yes I am," she surprisingly told me.

"Do you think you will?"

"What, have sex with him?" she asked.

For some reason I was finding the situation rather exciting.

"Yes, do you think you will?"

"I sometimes think it might be nice, for he always was good in bed," she said, not adding as she might, 'But then you would know that.' Instead she went on. "And after all you know my situation Clare." 

As well I did, for although we didn't talk that intimately I was aware of her lack of men friends and thus sex. Amanda had reached the conclusion that she didn't want another long-term partner until Sara was 'off her hands.' That, she felt, was when she went to university at nineteen. "I just don't want her having a series of 'uncles' and I can't stand the lies and subterfuge of affairs," she had explained one day over lunch.

I'd asked whether she felt she could have more. As I put it "casual affairs?"

She had replied. "What you mean, casual, no commitment sex?"

"Yes, I suppose I do and I hear it's quite fashionable nowadays."

"I have thought about it?"

"And?"

"I'm not sure I'm ready for a fuckbuddy," she laughed. "Why have you tried it?"

I think I may even have blushed when I hurriedly said I hadn't. That was true, for so far I had only been unfaithful to Charles once and that was years ago, not long after our marriage. The blush was caused because recently I had thought about a, as she termed it, fuckbuddy quite a lot. For me and my circumstances a sex with no commitment affair had some strong appeal.

"But you'd like to," Amanda said smiling.

"It has some appeal, but I doubt that I would have the nerve."

"I'm not sure I could cope with the continual feeling of guilt," Amanda said sipping her Frascati.

"Guilt, but you're single."

"Yes I know, but I find it hard to have sex without some form of emotional involvement and commitment."

"And you don't want that?"

"No and that's my classic Catch twenty two isn't it?"

"Yes I suppose it is, so what will you do?"

"Keep my knickers on I suppose and take lots of cold showers," she said laughing.

"Is it difficult, Mands?" I asked.

"It can be, sometimes I get so frustrated I could walk out of my apartment and fuck the first decent looking guy I see."

"Oh dear be careful, luv," I said softly, unthinkingly reaching across the table and touching the backs of her fingers with my fingertips. Our eyes met again. We held each others gaze. I think we were both thinking the same thing, but neither had the pluck or whatever was needed to say 'There is another option.'

****

At the party, which took place just a week or so after that lunch, Amanda was busy so we didn't have much chance to chat. Although I knew some of the people there, it was very much a family do, so I was a little left out. I drifted from group to group chatting and laughing until after a couple of hours I found myself in a small group including Kevin on the patio. It was a warm evening and there were numerous smokers around, I even had a couple of cigarettes. 

The start of summer when we have warm evenings and we can eat and drink outside, is always a special time in England, where the weather is so unpredictable. This summer, so far, it had been very pleasant, so it was nice to be outside on this June evening. There was a friendly atmosphere and the women looked fabulous in their glamorous dresses and the men handsome in their open neck shirts and chinos, some wearing jackets and others sweaters. As usual in the social circle in that wealthy London suburb, the dresses tended to be thin and low cut and there was oodles of female flesh on show, creating a generally highly charged atmosphere. Sex was in the air everywhere!

I found myself next to Kevin. He seemed to be focusing more and more on me, which in some ways I didn't mind. It helped me out as I was on my own and I didn't know that many people and, to be truthful, I was flattered that he should show such interest.

As it goes at such events the others moved on and Kevin and I were by ourselves.

"How are things?" He asked.

"Fine," I smiled back.

"Really?"

"Yes, of course. Anyway how do you mean?"

"Whatever way you wish," he said with that somehow knowing smile that I had always found quite attractive on his face.

I smiled at him and swept the thick lock of strawberry blonde hair that tends to fall down my forehead back on top of my head. "I don't wish any way. Why would I?"

"Well you're here alone on a Sunday aren't you?"

"So?"

"Charles too busy?"

"As always."

"He should be careful," he said moving a little closer and sipping his drink.

"What do you mean?" I asked, rather stupidly innocently.

"You know what I mean."

"I don't," I replied, quite enjoying the verbal bantering. I swept the hair away from my forehead again. Maybe that was a sign of flirting, I tended to do it more when in such circumstances.

"Keep leaving you alone."

"That's work, he's very busy as you know."

"I know that, but he should get more balance."

"He tries Kevin, but it's difficult with his job."

"Yes I know that, but if he keeps leaving you alone, someone else will pinch you."

"Don't be silly, we're very happy."

"Yeah ok," he said.

We got interrupted then and I wasn't alone with him until near the end of the party.

"Maybe we could arrange lunch?" He said just as we were all leaving.

I smiled a non-commital reply. He put his head near to my ear and whispered. "Or dinner."

"Kevin, I'm married and you are my best friend's ex. Best to leave well alone."

"So did you enjoy the party?" Amanda asked when we had a drink after work in the agency on the Tuesday, as she'd had the Monday off to clear up.

"Yes it was fine, were you happy with it?"

"Yes I was."

"Kevin seemed very friendly," she said, with a smile.

"With me?" I asked, feeling a little guilty, even though nothing had happened.

"No I meant with me, was he to you too?"

I fumbled a bit. "Er no, well he was fine, friendly, but nice."

"He came on quite strong with me again," Amanda said.

"So what will you do?"

"I couldn't go back, but at times I am so tempted."

We were sitting in my office, which was furnished more like a sitting room than a working one. It had a seating area with a sofa and two easy chairs arranged round a coffee table. She was sitting one end of the sofa. We were both wearing jeans; I was in a low cut tee shirt and Amanda in a button up shirt.

"Another?" I asked holding up my empty glass.

"Please."

I went to the fridge which was behind the sofa and pulled out a fresh bottle of Chablis.

"Fuck," I said as the cork broke.

"Here let me," Amanda said getting up and moving round the back of the sofa to where I was holding the bottle. She smiled.

"At least there are some advantages to being divorced," she said fiddling the corkscrew so it bored into the broken cork. Looking at me, she went on. "Not many, but some."

We were standing close as she said that and as the cork popped out.

"Clever thing," I said holding my glass out.

"Maybe at getting corks out, but not with my life which just seems to go from one trauma to another."

"Kevin you mean?"

"Well yes him, men in general, relationships and all that."

We still hadn't moved, but she had poured the wine. We were still standing close, very close, perhaps too close, so close I could smell her perfume and see the highlighter round her eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said, not really knowing why.

"For what, Clare?"

"Your Catch twenty two, I suppose."

"Yes it is a pain, but there you go, no easy way out is there?" She said softly.

"No I suppose not. Not an easy way?"

"Huh?" She said looking right into my eyes.

"Not easy, but there is another way Mands," I whispered, brushing that thick lock of hair away from my eyes as she stared into them

I was tingling all over. I was so excited; I had never felt like this before. I had never fancied a woman, maybe anyone, as much as I was fancying my best friend right then. I saw a small smile form on her lovely lips, she half closed her eyes and then licked her upper lip in what was the most sexually provocative gesture I had ever seen.

"Yes Clare, I suppose there is, isn't there."

"Oh Mandy," I whispered.

"Yes Clare," she said quietly as, without anything further being said, we both reached out with our hands and interlocked our fingers.

"Oh my God," she groaned. "Are you sure about this Clare?"

"Yes Mandy, yes I think I am. Are you ok?"

"Oh yes Clare I am very ok about it."

Then we kissed. We fell into each others arms and squirmed our bodies together, my small breasts being completely engulfed by hers, that felt wonderful.

It went on for some time. We kissed, we tongued each other and we sucked on the other's lips. We ground our bodies together and then totally involuntarily I slid my hand between us and cupped Amanda's left breast. God was that lovely? Her shirt was out of the waist of her jeans so it was as easy as it was inevitable that my hand slipped inside, onto her bare waist and upwards to her bra covered breast.

"Oh yes," she groaned grinding her mound against mine. "But Not here Clare, not in the office, it's too sordid."

She was right.

"Come home with me, there's no one there."

I poured us both a glass of wine as I waited for her to arrive. The drive from Camden had only taken ten minutes, but it was the most nervous ten minutes I could remember, since probably when I was about to lose my virginity. At last I saw her car pull into our driveway. I opened the door. We didn't speak, there was no need, we both knew what was going to happen and we were both as nervous as hell. I beckoned her into the living room. She smiled.

"Are you sure Clare?" she said softly glancing at the stairs.

I held my hand out. "Of course."

We walked up the stairs hand in hand, our shoulders brushing together and my arm touching her breasts. Again we didn't speak. We continued in silence as I led her into the main guest bedroom; I didn't feel shagging my best female friend was appropriate for the marital bed. We stood staring at each other alongside the bed. Her fingers, shaking a little, went to the top button of her shirt. She undid it. What an extraordinarily erotic moment that was. I stared mesmerised as one by one she undid them and let the sides fall apart so that they were caught on the apex of each breast. She was wearing a white net bra that was totally see-through. I could see all of her large round areolas and bloated nipples. She smiled again and raised her eyebrows in an obvious gesture of invitation. I didn't hesitate. Why would I? I wanted to show her my body. I quickly peeled the tee shirt up my body and over my head. I loved the intake of breath as she saw my chest. I was also wearing a white bra, but not see-through. 

As if synchronised, we both reached behind our backs and unclipped our bras at the same time. We removed them. Her breasts were larger, fuller, more rounded and altogether bigger than I had remembered all those years ago. Bigger, but just as lovely and every bit as erotic. 

"Oh Amanda," I croaked, breaking the silence.

"Oh Clare," she replied running her gaze over my boobs as I did the same to her. Our fingers were fiddling with our belts and zips. Rather unladylike and momentarily spoiling the erotic mood, we slid out jeans off. She was wearing dark, knee-length pop socks, my feet were bare. She was wearing a white, lacy thong, I was wearing white mini shorts.

We moved closer together and again slid into each other's arms and kissed. We lay on the bed, firstly on our sides as we continued kissing and started caressing the other's breasts and bottom, but then Amanda turned onto her back. Instinctively I think, I rolled on top of her. We both watched as my tits vanished into hers, but then we kissed again, deeper, longer and even more passionately. Amanda opened her legs and I slid between them. For some reason, we were still wearing our panties, but I knew that was simply a temporary situation as I, again instinctively, started to move slowly. 

"Yes," she moaned into my ear. "Oh yes Clare," she went on as my movements became more exaggerated. Up and down I slowly slid my mound against hers.

"Nice?" I whispered.

"Yes, but stop a moment."

"What, why?" I asked, smiling as I saw her lifting herself up and pushing her panties down her legs. As I fiddled them past her knees she started to pull mine down. I got back between her opened legs. She widened them and raised her knees, giving me even more room. Her hands were on my bum, they were squeezing and pinching as I dry fucked her. It didn't take very long, for both of us, but particularly Amanda.

"Oh God, Clare, I'm sorry, I'm sorry she moaned as she started to cum."

"Don't worry baby," I soothed raising my torso a little so I could squeeze her breasts and pinch her nipple. That seemed to send her over the top.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck yes, I'm cumming, you've done me, you've made me cum. God it's so good. Thank you, thank my darling," she gushed as her body stiffened and convulsed and she tried to kiss me very deeply, but her body was out of control and we couldn't maintain mouth contact.

****

"I said no."

"I know you did, but I wasn't convinced you really meant it," Kevin said when I opened the door to him a week or so later.

He'd arrived unannounced and told me he'd come to take me out to lunch. I couldn't leave him on the doorstep so I invited him in.

"That is unless, of course Clare, you would like to rustle up something."

"Why should I?" I replied thinking that just a week ago his ex wife had been standing right where he was in the lounge. She had, though, been wearing one of my dressing gowns when we came downstairs to make some tea after making exquisite love.

"Old times sake, perhaps?" He smiled. "Maybe for the future even."

"What do you mean?"

"I told you that at Sara's party."

"Look Kevin, I am a married woman."

"Well sort of you are."

"I'm happily married, I don't want any complications in my life."

"I might be a very useful and highly interesting complication, if you let me," he said moving closer and taking my hand in his. "Be truthful Clare, you aren't at all happy are you?"

"I am," I persisted, but even I could hear the lack of conviction. He squeezed my hand and smiling said. "I don't believe you, convince me."

I pulled on my hand, but he didn't let go, I probably stopped trying.

"Hard isn't it?" He asked, making me smile at the possible double entendre.

"Is it?" I smiled back adding rather foolishly in some ways. "I wouldn't know."

He got what I meant.

"Naughty. I meant convincing me. It must be terrible for you Clare, the sod being away so much, leaving you, making you lonely and alone," he said softly, sounding really considerate. As he added. "It is, it must be Clare." 

That got to me and I felt as if I might start to cry.

"No it's ok, you'd better go now, Kevin."

"No lunch then?"

"No, Charles and the kids will be here soon," I said lying, for they wouldn't be home until the evening.

He turned and I followed him to the front door. He opened it and said as he turned to face me.

"Pity Clare, it could have been fun."

We were standing quite close to each other in the hallway. I smiled and said

"So can lots of things Kevin," as I pushed the lock of hair away from my forehead. "But cheating on my husband isn't my idea of fun."

He smiled. "Who said anything about cheating, I was only offering lunch."

"Yeah right and pigs might fly," I responded.

Grinning he went out through the doorway and walked down the three steps to the path. Turning his head, he looked right into my eyes as he said. "I'll call you later," and then swaggered down the pathway to his black Rangerover Sport parked illegally right outside the house.

I didn't mention his visit to Amanda or Charles. Whilst I felt a tinge of guilt about seeing him, although I was not in any way to blame, I also had tingles of excitement about the illicit nature of seeing a man who clearly wanted to shag me; well shag me again was the truth of the situation.




That Most Decadent Summer



He phoned a day or so later. We chatted, he again suggested lunch or dinner and again I refused.

"We could just have a quick shag instead," he said laughing.

"I don't do quick shags."

"Oh right, how about a longer one then?"

"Oh piss off you randy sod," I smiled.

The next day I got a text from him. It simply said. 'I'll be in Casswells at 1.00, like to join me?"

I text back.

'I don't do lunch.'

'Dinner then, tonight?'

'I don't do dinner either with randy buggers.'

'Ok I'll just have to settle for a long shag then,' came back almost instantly.

I typed. 'Do what I said on the phone yesterday, piss off."

'Oooooo u hard woman, bye.'

Amanda and I were booked to have dinner with the MD and Marketing Director of a fairly new client. To save her going home to Docklands and then coming back to the West End where we were dining, she came home with me to shower and change.

As I drove towards Highgate, we chatted easily and the conversation moved round to the previous week. We hadn't seen much of each other since then and hadn't spoken at all about that amazing evening.

After hedging round the issue for a while, she said.

"How do you feel about what we did now Clare?"

I had, of course thought of little else, well other than Kevin trying to pull me I suppose.

"I'm ok with it luv. And you?"

"I'm not so sure to be honest."

"Oh didn't you enjoy it?" I asked looking across the small cabin of the Porsche, which Charles had bought me for my fortieth birthday. 

She was almost lying down on the low slung seat and that had caused her skirt to ride up. At the same time, it looked as though one more button than should be was undone on her white blouse. The long expanse of her bare legs and the deep cleavage made me gulp.

"Yes Clare I enjoyed the sex, but I'm not sure I can handle the emotional repercussions."

"Yes, I struggle with that, but I think I have come to terms with it."

"I am trying and I'll continue working on it," she was saying as we walked from the car to my front door. 

"You remember where everything is, don't you?" I said as I showed her to the guest bedroom which was across the first floor landing to mine.

"I remember it very well," she said smiling as we both looked at the bed where we had made such spectacular love just a week ago."

I was sitting at my dressing table naked when there was a tap on the door.

"Clare," Mandy said.

I slipped into a shorty silk robe, which I held together rather than tying the belt and opened the door. My heart pounded. Amanda was standing there with a large bath towel wrapped round her. My immediate thought was very rude, my second was, 'I've seen her like that before.'!

"They aren't coming, they have an emergency," she said, disappointing me in two ways.

"Oh fuck," slipped from my mouth.

"That's precisely what I thought," she replied.

Pausing, I wondered whether her knocking on my door in just the towel was a come on from her. I smiled. "What, you've come to terms with it then have you?"

"Huh, what do you mean?"

"Well when they said they weren't coming and your first thought was fuck, you must have come to terms with what we did."

She laughed. "I didn't mean that when I said it."

"I know, but why not come in?" I asked opening the door wide as my pulse raced with anticipation. Was I going too far, was I pushing things, was I expecting too much? On the other hand my mixed up mind was wondering if this was her making a statement, issuing an invitation and, in effect, propositioning me? What a convoluted world girl with girl sex can be?

We stared at each other. It was as if we were transfixed and it seemed as if we stood there for an age. 

"I really don't know." She said softly. "What about Charles and the kids?"

"Well Charles won't be home for hours and you know the kids are at school." I replied putting the ball firmly back into her court.

"You want me to?" She whispered.

"Yes, Mandy, I do, please come in," I said suddenly plucking up courage and letting go of the dressing robe. It fell apart just getting caught on the tips of my hardened nipples.

I saw the look come onto her face that I saw so often in business. Amanda takes some time to reach a decision for she is probably over-analytical. She reviews everything before coming to a conclusion, but when she does she implements it instantly. That's when one sees the determined expression on her face. And that was there as she walked into my bedroom. I turned and shut the door then turned again to face her. That is when I realised the decision she had reached.

"Ok Clare, now I'm in, I guess I don't need this do I?" She said, loosening the towel and letting it fall from her voluptuous body.

"No darling, you don't," I whispered. 

We fell into each other's arms and she slid the robe off me before pulling me towards my bed. She was playing much more of a participatory role this time. And she did that for the next two hours when we made blissful and energetic love together.

This time there was little hesitation, few inhibitions and hardly any restrictions. This time the lovemaking was mutual.

This time we sucked each other's nipples and fed our mouths on the other's breasts.

This time we fingered each other to early climaxes.

This time we gave each other multiple orgasms.

This time, though, we still for some reason didn't go down on each other. Were we saving that for another time I wondered as I said goodbye to her when her cab arrived?

****

"You bastard," I fumed at Charles a couple of weeks later.

"It can't be helped, Clare, it's business," he replied with the calm coolness that had once attracted me, but which I now found infuriating.

It was our wedding anniversary and we were supposed to be going to the Villa d'este overlooking Lake Como in Italy for a few days of unashamed luxury and, hopefully lots of sex. We needed to reaffirm our relationship in that respect for lately it had been woeful. 

Charles had changed the date of departure once, because of work problems, so that we were due to fly on the day of our anniversary instead of the day before it. We were packed and the car was on its way when Charles took a series of calls. That's when he told me that he had to go to New York that afternoon. 

"Oh fuck off then," I had said as I stormed upstairs and shut myself in the bedroom. 

"I'm off then," he called up the stairs. I didn't reply.

"Happy anniversary," Kevin said down the phone when I answered my mobile an hour or so later.

We had chatted on the phone probably every other day for the past few weeks. Maybe I should have stopped him? Possibly I was letting myself be steered into potentially dangerous waters. But it helped my loneliness and I began to look forward to his calls and texts. I was being wooed, I knew that as well as I knew that I should have nipped it in the bud. But I found that quite exciting. Not just because it was my secret and that there was an underlying feeling of sexual tension whenever we spoke. It wasn't simply because we flirted and I was so unused to that, nor was it due to me having such an obvious admirer, all women must like that. It also wasn't just due to my loneliness or my lack of good sex with my husband. No it was more than that I realised when I sat and tried to analyse why I didn't stop him. And what I realised, I'm not sure I liked. The real buzz, I worked out, came from the fact that the three of us were so connected, we'd had such wonderful sex in the past and we knew each other so well. The ultimate turn on, though, I had to admit was that I was now making love to his ex wife.

"Thanks," I replied.

"Well you could sound happy, presumably the legal eagle has bought you a massive diamond and is taking you somewhere special."

"Yeah right," I said in a flat, non-commital tone."

"You ok?"

"No," I responded giving him my honest opinion.

"What's up? He hasn't left you in the lurch on your wedding anniversary has he?"

"Yep." 

I went on to explain that Charles had gone to New York and told Kevin of the now aborted plans for the Villa d'este.

"Bloody hell, he can be such a prick can't he?"

"I couldn't comment Kev."

"No, but you can think. Kids away?"

"Yes."

"You all alone?"

"Yes why?"

"I'll be there in an hour," he replied cutting the connection.

I'd already had a couple of vodkas as I stormed inside about my bastard husband. With this news being thrust on me, I felt another was needed. Luckily I had a couple of business calls that took some time so I didn't overdo the vodka nor did I have much time to think about Kevin's impending arrival.

I called Amanda and told her that Charles and I weren't going and we swapped some nasty words about what a sod he was.

"I would come over, luv," she said. "But as you know I am in Edinburgh on that client induction for RBS."

"Oh yes, of course. That's ok Mands, I'll be ok."

"You would be more Ok if I was there though wouldn't you?"

"Yes darling, you know that."

"It was amazing wasn't it?"

"It was fantastic," I said recalling the intense sensations and marvellous experiences of that evening in my bed with Amanda. 'God I could do with that again now,' I thought to myself as that familiar warmth started in the pit of my stomach and slowly spread all over my pussy and upwards into my breasts.

"I had better go," Amanda said. "I'm in too public a place to hold this sort of chat."

"And what sort of chat is that, Mandy?"

She laughed. "If your body is reacting to the thoughts of that time in any way that mine is, then you'll know full well what I mean."

"Yes," I whispered as unconsciously, I think, I ran my fingertips across my chest noting with a degree of satisfaction that my nipples had hardened completely. "Maybe you can call later and we can finish off what we have started."

"God Clare, I so want to, but every minute from now until ten tonight is tied up with meetings and Sara is flying up this evening for the weekend."

"Mmmm, pity, it's a long time since I've had phone sex."

"Fuck off lovely, I'll be back soon and we can have real sex."

Waiting for Kevin to arrive did make me nervous. I was sexually aroused from talking to his ex wife and I was relaxed from the vodkas. I was looking forward to seeing him and I was absolutely and totally pissed off with my husband. I was in my house alone and nobody would interrupt us until at the earliest tomorrow lunchtime when the cleaning lady would arrive. 

Smiling as I checked myself in the mirror, I realised that the circumstances were perfect for adultery; opportunity, motive and time. 'God what a conniving bitch I can be,' I thought.

Although it seemed an age ago, I had got ready to travel business class to Milan on BA. I'd had my hair done especially for it the evening before. I wear it so it comes half way down my neck and it's in a bob style, lots on top shorter at the back and sides. It's long at the front with a thick wave that is supposed to bisect my forehead and tuck behind my left ear. My real hair colour has always been near, but not quite, blonde so, as I have aged and more and more grey hairs have appeared, I have it lightened and toned a little so it is now, what they call, strawberry blonde. I was wearing make up and I'd had both a manicure and pedicure the previous day, with all my nails being painted a deep red, almost brown.

I was wearing a top which was a bit like a man's vest really. It was black, quite thin and fitted me tightly enough to show off my shape, but not so much that it was moulded tightly to each boob. It had a scooped front and straps a couple of inches thick, thus when I leaned forward my b cup boobies, which were pushed into a tight, nearly half cup black bra, formed a neat cleavage. I wore the 'vest' outside the waist of my trousers. I was wearing a white, linen trouser suit. It had cropped trousers which were fashionably hipster so if I stretched I showed, probably rather more of my stomach than a forty five year old should flash, but then it was flat and tanned. I was wearing black, strappy, mid-height heeled sandals and, of course, no tights. I had taken the jacket off earlier, but as I saw Kevin's other car, his Porsche pulling up outside, I slipped it back on; 'Showing too much flesh might give the wrong impression,' I thought, wondering just what the wrong impression might be today?

"Kevin," I called as he got out the car."

"Oh hi, that's some greeting," he smiled waving back.

"Take it round the back and park it across the garage, save the fine," I told him. I actually didn't want such a conspicuous car parked outside my house, for who knows how long.

I went to the back door and wandered through that and down the sixty feet or so of landscaped garden, which really is a luxury so close to Central London. He came through the gate at the end, carrying two large, plastic bags.

"Hi again."

"Hello Kevin, what the hell have you got there?"

"Provisions, you'll see."

He unloaded the bags when we got into the kitchen. I was amazed.

There was two bottles of champagne, two of white wine, a whole, cooked salmon, salad, raspberries, French bread, cakes and pastries and loads of other bits and pieces.

"Ma'am," he said in a pretty awful American accent. "Your anniversary lunch has arrived."

I laughed.

"You're crazy and there's so much."

"I brought enough in case you wanted me to stay for dinner."

"You are crazy, I haven't even invited you to my home, let alone lunch or dinner."

"You won't send me away surely?"

"No, of course not it's very thoughtful of you," I replied, pushing the wave of hair, which had fallen across my forehead away from my eyes.

"Not that thoughtful," he went moving closer to me. 

I was standing in the corner of the kitchen, leaning against the black, granite topped work surfaces, so I couldn't move away as he approached. Did I want to move away? I wondered as he stood very close, so close that I could smell his after shave.

Nervously, I replied. "Well it looks as if you have remembered everything."

He put one arm alongside me and placed his hand on the worksurface so that our bodies were almost touching and our faces were only inches apart.

He grinned as he said softly. "Actually Clare, I forgot the breakfast, but was sure you could rustle up some eggs and toast."

"You cheeky sod," I managed to say, just before he moved his hand from the granite, put his arm round me and pulled me closer to him.

"Well maybe not breakfast ma'am, but what would Missus Whittaker say if I tried to kiss her"

Although things had been building up between us and despite me allowing him in the house again, I was still surprised. I know I shouldn't have been for our calls and texts had been getting more and more flirty, I knew he wanted to have sex with me and I had done little recently, other than refuse to see him, to alter that. 

On top of that, I was beginning to acknowledge a number of things. I needed more excitement in my life, my bisexual side had reared its head with Amanda in the most dramatic fashion and my marriage, if I was truthful, had failed. Ok we would probably stay together for the kids, but not for us; I no longer loved Charles and, if I was honest, I didn't even fancy him much. I recognised that also I didn't love Kevin, but by God I did fancy him! Most interestingly, but totally incomprehensibly I also wanted that odd buzz from going with both him and Amanda. What the hell did that say about me?

"Missus Whittaker, rarely eats breakfast," I said softly as Kevin moved closer and stood between my slightly parted legs.

"But does she allow kisses?" He asked applying more pressure on my back.

Looking into each other's eyes, it was like a movie for a few moments. Slowly, almost imperceptibly our faces moved towards the other. They moved until his lips were almost touching mine and his eyes were so close they became a little blurred. I saw his mouth open and his eyes half close, I think. He slid his tongue slightly past his lips and then filled the gap between us. Surprisingly, oddly and most erotically he didn't kiss me. Instead he licked all the way along the bottom of my top lip and then along the top of my lower one, which I unconsciously let drop a little. I closed my eyes taking in every second of the extraordinarily exciting sensations I was experiencing by having my lips licked. The only thought in my mind as Kevin pulled my body against his and pressed his stomach against mine was. 'Charles would never do anything as tenderly erotic as this.'

As I felt him against me, as our bodies came into contact from our lips to our toes, so I had a surge of doubt and worry. 

'What the hell am I doing? I'm married, I have children and responsibilities. I am screwing a woman, my best friend and business partner and now I'm about to be screwed by her ex husband. Have I no shame, morals or sexual standards? The clear answer was no, not now. I may have had once, but they had vanished and now I was becoming a sexual buzz junky.'

As he at last kissed me, I gave in. Any resistance I may have had vanished, I capitulated, I became putty in his hands, I was his; I knew it and he knew it. He had been priming me for ages and now he was about to get his reward, or was it my reward? I didn't know and didn't care. All that seemed to matter was satisfying the sexual need that the combination of his ex wife, my best friend and he had built up in me.

The kiss was deep. It was probing and enquiring; it asked questions and made demands. My responses tried to answer those questions and agree to those demands. Our mouths were wide open, our tongues were searching in the other's mouth, our lips were squirming and we were slurping and, inadvertently, but inevitably, exchanging spittle.

Our arms went round the other and our hands, urgently almost frantically roamed, increasingly adventurously over the other's body. Face, hair, neck, shoulders and back, at first. But then, as the passion increased in line with our confidence, they became bolder. His found my breasts, they squeezed my bum and I grabbed his buttocks. All the time he was pressing himself against me: against my breasts, against my tummy, against my legs, between my legs and, wonderfully and so excitingly, against my mound. 

He was now fully erect. Somehow he had managed to untangle it from his underwear and had let it rear so majestically and rampantly right up the centre of my stomach. The delicious thickness that I remembered so clearly from all those years ago pressed hard against me. It effortlessly it seemed found my clit and he squirmed against that. The feelings were exquisite and the sensations were amazing. 

He started to dry fuck me outside my trousers and I moved in time with his thrusts and surges. He yanked my jacket off and pushed my vest up without waiting or asking. He took it as his right and for granted, which it was. I wanted to bare my breasts for him, I wanted his hands and mouth on my flesh, on my so sensitive breasts and nipples. Breaking the kiss and looking him right in the eye I reached down, found the hem of the vest and in one quick movement pulled it up, over my head and off.

"Fuck me, you sexy little bitch," he groaned as his mouth found my bloated nipple inside my bra and sucked, quite hard.

He slid both his hands simultaneously into the diaphanous, ridiculously flimsy, lace bra. Without any ceremony he yanked my tits out from its restraining cover and fed his mouth on my engorged nipples. I could feel myself starting to cum. It felt great. I wanted to cum, I wanted Kevin to make me cum, just as his ex wife had made me cum by lying on top of me between my spreaded legs, which were wrapped around her waist.

"Oh yes." I groaned, pulling his head more firmly against my breasts.




That Most Decadent Summer



"Nice?" He said, his voice muffled my nipple being in his mouth.

"Mmmmm," was all I could manage.

I was fumbling with his belt and zip. I had stroked, rubbed and caressed his hardness outside his thin, wool, suit trousers for some time. Now the need to feel his bareness, hold it in my hand and press it against me became paramount in my mind.

He helped me and suddenly everything was open and I was holding his cock. The cock that had fucked me several times all those years ago, the cock that I had watched sink into my work colleague Amanda and, yes, the cock that had subsequently fucked her so many times when she was his wife. I don't why or how, but the thought came into my mind as I greedily ran my hands up and down its sturdy length, 'This is the cock that had fucked the cunt that I had finger fucked in this house just a few days ago.'

It was all happening. Nothing was reserved, everything was in play; his cock, my tits and all of our bodies. He fiddled my trousers undone and squirmed his hand inside. He rubbed me momentarily outside my Janet Reger knickers, but then quickly he got his hand inside them. It was right on me, right on my wetness, right on my lips. Fuck that was good. I thought as his fingers slid into me, ran along my slit and then found that bud of such wondrous pleasures. He was doing precisely the same thing to me that his ex wife had done to me. What a fucking turn on that was.

"Come to bed, Kevin," I whispered in his ear.

"Fuck that," he croaked back sliding my trousers and panties down in one go. He turned me round and pushed the top of my body forward. "I'm gonna fuck you here, right her and now."

"Oh shit, yes," I groaned as my bare breasts were squashed against the cold granite worktop. 

The idea of being fucked in my own kitchen, partially dressed, my knickers and panties round my knees, my bra still on and my tits pulled out of it turned me on so much. Me like that and him still wearing a white dress shirt with his boxers and trousers in a pool on the floor, presented such a marvellously sordid and wanton situation.

Then he fucked me. Again there was no ceremony, but then none was needed. I was bent over the work surface my breasts were squashed against it, my legs were open. I was ready and totally available. And he did exactly what I wanted him to do; he fucked me hard and quick and dirty.

****

I felt totally embarrassed at work on the Monday after my time with Kevin. Amanda and I had a financial and operations review meeting so I was with her from the seven thirty breakfast meeting through the day long sessions with our team.

I couldn't concentrate and contributed little to the long, at times boring, but absolutely essential series of meetings. My mind was in a whirl of conflicting views and thoughts. When I looked at Amanda, I saw her naked, I saw her full breasts, bloated nipples and wet, velvety pussy. I imagined my mouth on her tits and hers on my nipples. I recalled the feeling of her warm wetness round my fingers and the shuddering sensations of her fingers driving deep inside me. But then the time with Kevin would fill my mind. Us tearing at the others clothes in my kitchen, my tits yanked out of my bra, his cock in my hand inside his boxers and my knickers round my knees. Me bent over the worksurface with him fucking me from behind as I gradually collapsed in a sobbing wreck of orgasmic delight.

I wondered where both my affairs would go? I also wondered why I had become quite such a bitch and why I had such a need for this odd buzz? Why I had reverted to wanting to have sex with another female again after all that timee and why it had been with my best friend and business partner? Why had I let Kevin keep phoning me, why I had exchanged increasingly flirty and intimate texts, why had I let him come to me in my moment of desolation and, of course, why had I let him fuck me? Why, why, why was the word that kept reverberating round my brain. I had no answers, other than, 'Well it is summer!' I mused philosophically.

The weekend had been quite amazing. He had stayed Friday night. We went out to dinner on Saturday and he stayed again. He had plans on Sunday so I was alone, but went and saw some friends in Oxford.

After the initial fervid sex in the kitchen, he prepared lunch, which we ate on the unoverlooked terrace in our back garden.

"See almost as good as Villa d'este," he joked, sitting across from me in a white tee shirt and shorts I had lent him from Charles' wardrobe. I was wearing a black bikini bottom and yellow tee.

"Not such a good view though."

"True, but better sex."

I didn't reply, it sort felt disloyal to criticise Charles, which was odd considering I had just committed adultery and most probably would do so again very shortly.

"Wasn't it?" He persisted."

"You may think that, but I could never comment," I smiled using a saying I recalled from a book or play.

After the sex in the kitchen, we had showered, separately, dressed and had some champagne. As he prepared the lunch I made some calls to the kids and my parents to let them know we hadn't gone to Italy. Cunningly, it was also to ensure that none of them would be likely to pop into my home for any reason, as they did sometimes. I was becoming sly, I thought, the subterfuge of an affair thrilling and disappointing me simultaneously.

It was a lovely day and sitting under the wisteria covered pagoda was really quite romantic. Actually, with our recent, extreme sex still fresh in my mind, with Kevin around me, the way I was dressed, I hadn't bothered with a bra, and the prospects of what probably lie ahead it was more highly erotic than romantic.

The Monday meetings dragged on and on. I became bored and more morose, I snapped at people, but asked few questions. I was tired, confused and full of guilt. I'm not sure whether those feelings were relieved or strengthened when around four Amanda whispered.

"Sara's away for the night."

I had told her about Charles when she was in Edinburgh and this morning when we'd met I had let her know the bastard was still away.

"So what did you do over the weekend?" She'd asked after telling me about hers with Sara in Scotland.

"Oh not much I was pretty pissed off with him."

Amanda was not one to be judgemental and she rarely criticised anyone, but she did remark.

"You're entitled to, the bastard needs to sort himself out, or someone else will come along."

I nearly said 'That's precisely what Kevin said,' but just managed to bite my tongue in time.

I looked at her and touched the back of her hand as I muttered. "Maybe someone has Mands." 

She gripped my hand and whispered back. "Yes Clare, maybe someone has. So what did you do?"

"Oh I picked up a few guys and got myself laid and had a gang bang most of the weekend," I told her joking, feeling that was better than telling plausible lies. 

I was gradually being drawn into that world of lies, excuses and subterfuge. I wasn't sure I liked it, but it gave me a tingle.

She smiled. "Now that does make me envious."

That evening we went further. After undressing and then lying on Amanda's bed and fingering each other to lovely, long and quite powerful orgasms, we did what we both most wanted to do and what we knew was inevitable.

"Ok?" She had whispered as her head slithered down my body, with her lips planting little kisses in a trail from my breasts to my pubic line. 

Her intent was obvious, her question was unnecessary, her plan was enthralling.

"Of course darling," I sighed opening my legs to the slight pressure she applied to my thighs.

I threaded my fingers on one hand into her long, lustrous, chestnut coloured hair and let her grip the fingers on my other hand as my body received her precious gift. The feeling of a tongue on that most sensitive, female place, is always immense. When a female is doing that, when she is tipping your velvet the sensations are magnified manyfold.

I gasped with the sheer extreme nature of the pleasure I received from my female lover licking my cunt. It was amazing. I pressed her hand to my breast, grabbed a handful of her hair, and feeling a deep, grunt slide from my mouth I gave into the orgasm and I let Amanda make me cum.

It was not a million miles, I realised as I lay in her arms coming down from the soaring height of that wonderful climax, from Friday with Kevin.

"Come and sit on my lap," he'd said, after we finished the salmon salad, the raspberries and the cheese washed down with a bottle of Chablis Premier Cru and half bottle of Chateau Talbot; he always had a great taste in wines I recalled as a slight breeze got up in the garden and the sun went behind some clouds.

I did as he asked, I wanted to, it seemed just right.

"No not like that," he said as I sat on his legs my side towards him.

"How then?"

"Face me, a leg either side of my hips."

I clambered around to comply with his order, which I found mildly exciting. 

"Now get your tits out," he ordered grabbing my bum with both hands. Although i felt I was a fairly liberated woman, in keeping with many sisters, I liked being ordered around at times. Slight domination brings the, possibly, natural submissive out in me. It was something I had always liked about Kevin and had missed with Charles.

Charles and I had lived in the big, four storey townhouse in Highgate for almost fifteen years and had never had sex in the secluded garden. I had been having an affair with Kevin for a little over three hours and here I was about to be fucked by him on the terrace of the garden. Again, I was putty in his hands.

I lifted the tee up and over my head and flaunted my small tits at him, momentarily wondering what he saw in those compared to his ex wife's DD beauties.

"God they're great," he, almost growled, gripping one, slightly roughly and sucking my nipple into his mouth.

My mind immediately went back to earlier when Amanda had done exactly the same. His mouth on my bare breast, being in the open air, thinking of Amanda and feeling his bulge pressing right against my pussy, covered only by the small bikini panties, really got me going.

I watched fascinated as he unzipped Charle's shorts. He lifted his legs up a bit causing me to rise in the air and pushed his shorts down; the dirty sod hadn't bothered with boxers. His cock reared upwards, pressing against my spreaded pussy lips and running right across my uncovered clit. I pressed forward so that my bikini panty covered sensitive spots rubbed against his erection. I was still looking down as he continued alternating sucking my right and left tits and nipples. I saw him get hold of the gusset of my bikini. He tried pushing it to one side, but it was soo snug and tight.

"Fuck this," he growled grabbing the shiny, thinnish material with both hands.

"What you doing?" I asked, a little alarmed as he tugged the panties causing them to dig deeply into the crease of bum.

"Just this," he croaked as he yanked hard on the panties. 

I'm not sure what thrilled me more seeing the material rip or the noise it made. Whatever it was, suddenly the part of my body that we both wanted to be bare and available was exactly that; my naked cunt was staring at him.

He ran two fingers along my slit, looked up, smiled and then licked one finger as he continued to stare at me.

"Mmmmm, nice," he whispered holding out the other finger, obviously for me to lick. I had never done anything like that. It struck me that I had done more outlandish things during my three hour affair with him than I had in all my years married to Charles; that made me feel adventurous and bold. I grabbed his hand and avidly sucked his finger into my mouth just as I would a cock. As I did that, two thoughts came into my mind. One, I would probably soon be doing just that, for I remembered how both Amanda and I had fellated him; he loved it. And two, the taste on my fingers was just like that which had been on my fingers before, when I had finger fucked Amanda.

"Ready?"

"Yes," I replied feeling him pulling on my bum. He lifted me a bit with one hand and pulled his erection away from his, slightly paunchy I noticed, stomach with the other.

"For what."

"What do you want me to be ready for?" 

"Me to fuck you, is that what you want?"

"Yes, yes I do."

He nuzzled the tip of his cock against my clit. The sensation was so strong and the pleasure so quick, it made me jerk.

"Then say it."

"What?"

"That you want me to fuck you, I want to hear you say it."

"Why?"

"Because Ms butter wouldn't melt in your mouth it'll excite me. I love my women to talk dirty."

The words, 'my women' and the reference to butter not melting in my mouth when I was also having sex with his ex wife, excited and amused me. Again it was something I had never done with Charles. The idea, though, appealed. I pressed myself against the bulbous head of his cock.

"I want you to fuck me."

"Nice," he said pressing the end of his dick on my lips, slightly parting them.

"How much?"

"How much do you want me to fuck you?"

"Lots, loads........" I paused. "Fucking plenty, please fuck me Kevin."

"Where do you want my cock Clare."

"In me, up me."

"Up where baby?" He said leaning forward and biting my right nipple, rather hard. "Where Clare, where do you want my cock?"

The feelings washing over me from the sheer sordidness of our situation on the terrace of my back garden and talking dirty with him made me groan.

"Say it," he grunted through his teeth clamped round my nipple.

"In my cunt, Kevin."

"Say it again, say more."

I took a deep breath and held his head in my hands as I said quietly, yet firmly looking right into his eyes.

"I want your big cock in me Kevin and I want it right up my cunt."

Without any further ado he pulled hard on my buttocks and surged himself forward causing exactly that to happen. I gasped with the amazing sensation of his thick cock filling me and rushing up that so sensitive passage.

Like that, sitting in my garden he fucked me making me cum at least twice, but then I wasn't counting.

Ridiculously, as Amanda's tongue had licked so gently along my lips I suddenly thought 'I hope she doesn't smell Kevin's cum.' Of course she couldn't and wouldn't for I had washed very carefully both after the sex in the garden and that during the long and lovely nights and the next day I spent with him.

****

The summer rolled on. Things got worse between Charles and me. As I more and more bitched at him, so he simply worked longer hours. I started going out and not mentioning where I was going. Like the bastard he was turning out to be, he frustrated me, by not even enquiring where I was going or where I had been when I came home after him.

I was now having sex with Amanda most weeks and with Kevin on average, probably twice a week. I had none with Charles and I moved out of the marital bed on the grounds that I didn't want him waking me when he came home late. The truth was I didn't want to wake him when I came home late, sometimes smelling of Kevin's distinctive aftershave; it didn't matter if I smelled of Amada's perfume, for he wouldn't even recognise mine let alone another woman's.

To his credit, he insisted on moving into the main guest room, the room where Amanda and I had first fucked and the room where Kevin and I had slept. Even then, I was rather guilty of using the marital bed for my clandestine, adulterous sex. As that decadent summer wore on, that soon changed. There was even a time when Kevin fucked me in my marital bed in the afternoon and I had sex with Amanda in the evening at her apartment.

As the school holidays came about, I was more restricted with using Highgate for sex, especially with Kevin. I could get away with it more with Amanda, although actually sleeping together when the kids were there was a bridge too far.

We couldn't use Kevin's house, the one that he and Amanda had shared in Chigwell, for he had moved his parents into the five bedroom 'mini mansion.' 

So we took to using hotels, which I loved, I found checking in so erotic. Daft, but then there you go!

We had lots of sex in his car. Not the Porsche that often, although I did straddle him once like the terrace fuck on our first day, but in his other Porsche, the Cayenne, which he had recently purchased.

Amanda and I made love most frequently at her apartment in Docklands, but sometimes in Highgate.

"Where are you?" I said when Kevin phoned one Friday around seven whilst I was working on a particularly difficult piece of copy.

"I'm in Saint John's Wood heading east and am badly in need of a fuck. Any ideas?"

I smiled. "Not really, how about you?"

"Plenty."

"Such as?"

"Well how about I pick you up, take you to Highgate and fuck you rigid?"

"The second bit sounds good, but the kids have friends there for the night."

"Fuck, that screws that. Fancy a hotel?"

"Tell you what, you come here and we'll see what we can do," I said feeling immediately very raunchy, which was becoming a fairly common occurrence during that amazing summer.

Since Amanda and I had started making love, we'd installed a shower room. Ostensibly for the staff after they cycled to work, the latest trend for commuting, or had been for a run at lunchtime, it's main use was for us after we had made love in the office. Yes we had overcome the sordid feeling of that.

"I'm outside," Kevin said into my mobile.

I buzzed the door unlock.

"Come in and come upstairs to the first floor."

I sat there sipping a glass of Chablis waiting for him. The door opened.

"Wow this is some place," he said looking round the boardroom. 

It had a beech wood table that seated ten in plush leather chairs. At one end there was a floor to ceiling window overlooking Camden Lock and the market. At right angles to the window there were two four-seater sofas facing each another and a longer six-seater one backed up, against the window. They were made from a rich, black, soft leather, were extremely comfortable, were intended for more casual than board meetings and were perfect to have sex on, as Amanda and I had found out several times.

I was sitting on the big sofa framed by the colour and lights of Camden lock. I was wearing my power stuff as I had been to a presentation earlier. White blouse with buttons up the front, a black' Karen Millar skirt and jacket suit, self-support, lacy topped stockings and black patent leather high heels. I was lying back on the sofa and I had my feet on the smoked glass coffee table with my ankles crossed.

"We like it." I replied.

"And wow Clare you look great," he went on walking over and kissing me.

"Hi," I whispered reaching up and holding the back of his hand. "Had a good day?"

"Great," he said eyeing me up and down and seeing that where my skirt had ridden up there was an inch or so of lacy stockingtops on show. "And the closer I get the greater you look."

Almost immediately I had heard his voice on the phone half an hour or so ago, I wanted him, I wanted to be shagged and I knew we'd have sex, somewhere. As soon as I put the phone down I decided it would be here, in Amanda's and my office, our agency and right in the inner sanctum of the boardroom where she and I had made love.

I had quickly showered and had considered greeting him naked. That's how far I had come with him in the month or so of our affair. But I decided not to, just in case he had made arrangements at a hotel. Instead, I slipped into a pair of sheer, black lacy topped hold-ups I had bought on a whim in Harvey Nicks when I was preparing for the abortive trip to Villa d'este, the bastard; the two went together in my mind nowadays.

I had posed myself in a purposefully provocative position on the settee, had arranged my tight, just above the knee-length skirt to show a touch of lace and opened one more button than I should on my tight, crisp white blouse.




That Most Decadent Summer



He was behind me, so when he leaned over the back of the sofa and kissed me, our heads were the wrong way round if that makes sense. That was a little awkward due to the position of our two bodies. But what wasn't awkward was that my breasts were so easily available to him and he immediately cupped them squeezing them and pinching my nipples through the cotton of the blouse and thin bra. I had thought of removing that, but I knew he was a bit of an underwear fetishist so I kept it on.

"Cleaners been?"

"They come in the mornings."

"Any staff here?"

"It's Friday, pub night."

"So we're alone," he said easing another button undone on my blouse.

"Yes, totally."

"So is there any reason then, madam, why I shouldn't fuck you, here and now?"

Reaching up and finding the bulge in his, linen I noticed, trousers I replied. "None at all," as I ran my fingers up and down his strong erection.

"Get up then," he ordered in that nicely domineering tone he took when we about to have sex.

I did as he said and stood up. He put his hands on my shoulders and manoeuvred me backwards, away from the three couches where I had assumed we would have sex. He pushed me back and back until I felt the edge of the boardroom table pressing into my legs just beneath my bum. I rested myself on that.

"Open your legs a bit," he said as he unbuttoned his shirt. I did as he asked. He removed his shirt and undid his trousers and removed them, his boxers and his socks. 

I have never known a man, but then I haven't 'known' that many, as comfortable with his nudity as Kevin. He seemed to flaunt it at me and boy was that a turn on, especially when I was still fully dressed.

He was magnificently erect. His sturdy cock reared straight up his stomach from the thick mass of dark pubic hair covering his mound and stomach. As always with him, seeing his body and especially his cock aroused me even more. He moved close to me and I took his prick in both my hands and gently rubbed. A little sigh slid from my lips for it felt so good.

With me supporting myself by resting against the edge of the table, we kissed for a while. He undid the remaining buttons on my blouse and sucked and licked my nipples through the thin, lacy, diaphanous bra.

"Mmmmm, lovely," he grunted.

"What the bra or what's in them?"

Smiling he replied. "Both," as he yanked both of my boobs out from the bra. He sucked my bare, hardened nipples as I continued stroking his cock.

"Has the legal eagle fucked you in here like this, like I'm going to?"

"No, of course not."

"Does he still shag you."

"Not since Villa d'este," I replied arching my back and pushing my breasts more firmly against his pleasure giving mouth.

"So what do you do about sex when I'm not around?"

"Oh this and that," I said trying to deflect the conversation away from that topic.

"A toyboy, I assume."

"Leave off, I couldn't handle that and you."

"Maybe a toygirl then."

I laughed, rather falsely probably as his probing questions got nearer to the truth. I kissed him and rubbed his cock more firmly to stop the questions. Suddenly he pushed my jacket backwards and half way down my arms entrapping me, it was like I imagined a straight jacket. I felt restrained, but oddly that felt nice. He pulled the blouse out from the waist of the skirt and sucked my nipples and my breasts, causing red marks to appear immediately on the upper part of each breast.

"Leaving your mark are you?" I said croakily as I cupped his balls and squeezed them firmly but not with too much pressure. I rolled them in the palm of my hand. That felt good and he seemed to like.

He took hold of the hem of my tight skirt and with a tad of help by me raising my bum from the table, he edged it upwards. Past mid thigh, over my upper thighs and onto the black, lacy stocking tops of the hold-ups.

"Fucking hell," he groaned running his fingers over the luxurious material.

"You like?" I asked continuing to squeeze his balls with one hand whilst rubbing his dick with the other.

"Of course I do, they look fabulous," he replied easing the skirt up even further. It went past the stockingtops onto that patch of skin above them and upwards and upwards. Slowly, but inexorably the hem, with both of us watching it, moved to where my wet, slightly open, due to my parted legs, pussy lips should have been covered by my panties. They weren't though; covered by my panties that is.

"Oh my fucking Lord," he groaned, kissing me. As he broke the kiss, he went on. "You dirty, filthy wonderful bitch," as he saw my bare pussy for I had not put any panties on after my shower.

"A little present," I smiled putting my arms round his neck, kissing him and squashing my tits against his chest.

He took hold of his cock and said. "You ever see Nine and Half Weeks or The Postman Knocks Twice?"

"Yes both."

"So have you and Perry Mason acted out the main scenes?"

"What?"

"Has he or anyone fucked you on a table Clare?"

"No," I croaked.

"Well that's all gonna change right now."

It excited me to realise that he was going to do that, but I should have guessed. I had noticed that he has a penchant to fuck me in unexpected places and positions and had often wondered why, but had never asked. Like the first time bending me forward over the work surface and taking me from behind. Like on the terrace, him sitting down with me straddling him. Like when we went to bed he would do something different to laying between my legs: maybe laying me back on the edge with him kneeling on the floor my legs over his shoulders or, me bent forward over the bed, a la the kitchen scene. In hotels he would fuck me standing up, perhaps facing a mirror or window. In his car we never lay on the back seat, but found other positions. It almost seemed an obsession with him, but I didn't mind or care for I was getting more and better sex from Kevin than Charles had ever provided.

So, when he held his cock and slid it slightly between my lips as I perched on the edge of the table, I wasn't that surprised.

He slowly slid himself right up me, but didn't really start fucking me, that is if a cock inside a woman can be categorised as anything other than a fuck. With Kevin that time I think it was something other than a fuck. I had no idea what it was or what it could be called, but it was lovely and hugely exciting

He was standing naked between my legs. I was still wearing everything except my panties. My jacket was wrapped round my arms, my blouse was completely undone and my boobs had been pulled out from my bra. My skirt was round my waist and my stocking clad legs were slightly parted enabling him to have his cock in me. He didn't thrust or surge, but simply held himself rigid deep inside me. He played with my breasts, I stroked his cock and balls. We kissed, he licked my nipples and breasts and I gripped his gorgeous bum; even from all those years ago I recalled what a great ass he had and boy he still had that.

"Ok?" He asked.

"Mmmm, lovely," I sighed back loving the feel of his teeth chewing gently on my nipple.

It was as though suddenly we were watching a film. As if everything went into slow motion. He was bent forward sucking my tits so I could see over his shoulder. And what I saw over it surprised and shocked me. I felt guilty and ashamed. I was concerned and worried, but oddly I was also excited and enthralled when I watched the door slowly open and I saw Amanda framed in the doorway. Kevin's back was towards the door, I was facing it. Our eyes met as Kevin, who obviously hadn't realised that the door had opened, slurped at my breasts, gripped my bum and muttered.

"I'm going to fuck you right in the middle of your board room table so every time you have a meeting you will remember being fucked on it."

I was mortified as I watched Amanda watching us as it dawned on her who was fucking me. In a way I was mortified, but oddly I was also shaking with excitement. She still stood there watching us. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to break this hugely erotic and amazingly exciting situation. I didn't want to address the issue with her in discussion and I didn't want Kevin to stop what he was doing. It was an improbable and impossible situation. There was no real solution, no way out, no resolution. In such situations I tend to turn to irony as the answer. And that is precisely what I did.

All I could think of saying was to repeat that amazingly erotic phrase she had said to me in that hotel bedroom all those years ago.

"Why not take your clothes off and join in with us Amanda?"