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The Weekend Pt. 01

By: BiGrrl



Claire and I have been friends for ages. From the moment we first met we've felt like soul mates. It was Saturday morning and I had popped over for a natter and a catch up, and she was telling me about the fact that she hasn't had a break in ages.

"I'm exhausted Fiona," she said, running a hand through her beautiful, shoulder length blonde hair. "I need to get away and have some me time, but I don't know how I can."

I looked at her and thought to myself that she did look a bit harassed. I wondered if everything was alright, "Is there something wrong? No problems with Jackie?" Claire is a single mum, and has her daughter most of the time.

"No! No! Really. I just feel I'm burning the candle at both ends."

"Phew," I said, relieved. A thought came to me. "Why don't we have a girly weekend away? A cottage in the country, or a spa or go down to London and have a weekend in the smoke?"

"But I can't just up and leave Jackie," she replied.

"Of course you can, darling. That rat of an ex can take her a weekend, surely? We could leave on a Friday and be back Sunday afternoon. We can plan it. I know Brian will be fine with it. He keeps telling me I should have some me time, because I never get a break either."

Claire sat and thought about it, holding her coffee cup between her hands, her beautiful brow furrowed. "Let me think about it. I'll call Charles tonight and see what he says."

"Think about it. It could be great. What would you want to do," I asked, "assuming you decide to."

She thought for a moment. "I think I'd like to go to the big city. More to do, more chances to socialise and have fun."

"Deal. You talk it over with Charles and I'll do some searching for weekend breaks."

We finished up our coffee and I left, giving her a hug and a peck on her cheek, and making her promise once again to think seriously about it.

Let me tell you about Claire. She's a knockout, with such a lovely, cheeky smile that just lights up the room. She's also got a knockout figure, and I mean knockout. Those wonderful boobs of hers could take your eye out. She's always complaining that they're too big, but I actually am jealous. I'd love to be so blessed. She's a 38dd, I'm a 34b. So when we go shopping, we can't exactly buy the same outfits and try them on, but I do love going shopping with her. We always have such a great time, and she's such a laugh. I swear she's an exhibitionist. She's always flashing her flesh at every opportunity. I've seen her blouse come "accidentally" open on more than one occasion.

When I got home, I started looking on the internet for some weekend breaks in London, and found a couple of reasonably priced options staying at quite fancy places in the West End.

The next morning I got a very excited call from Claire.

"Fiona, It's on! And if we can do it, next weekend works really well because Charles says he'd love to have Jackie and spoil her a bitt."

I was so thrilled, "Claire, that's brilliant. I found a couple of great deals. Do you want me to come over so you can see them so we can choose? There are some that are a bit expensive, but if we shared a room we could do it. And it's my treat. Brian insisted."

I could hear the excitement in her voice as she said, "Wow! That's wonderful. But I can pay my way you know!"

"I insist, and I won't take no for an answer. You can buy me dinner."

She pretended to sigh, "Oh, okay. If you must. And as for the hotel, I trust you. Just pick one and it will be a nice surprise."

So I picked one in a swanky hotel, right in the heart of the West End. We would have to share a room, but that didn't bother me. After all we'd be going out most of the time.

Friday came, and Claire and I met at the station to get the train. Claire got out of the taxi and I was immediately knocked over by the outfit she was wearing. She was showing a lot of her gorgeous cleavage, and was wearing a loose, pale pink, above the knee skirt that was one of those that looks like it could be see through but isn't. I was just in a boring tee shirt and jeans, and felt very drab next to her.

She ran over with her case, and we hugged and air kissed. We were like a couple of schoolgirls, giggling in excitement.

"Okay, let's go," I said, taking my pull along case. I had the train tickets already, and so we went straight through and fifteen minutes later we were on the train, in First Class, puling out of the station. It was a Friday lunchtime, so there weren't many people, and none other than us in our carriage. We sat in the big comfy seats facing each other. We were talking about what we'd do, what we'd sight see.

At some point in all this, Claire decided to get more comfortable and lifted her legs up to tuck them underneath her, and as she did, the hem of her skirt lifted briefly and I was shocked when I realised what I had just caught a glimpse of.

I was pretty sure that Claire wasn't wearing any knickers. The way her legs were parted I was sure I could see her pussy lips, and also that she was completely bald down there.

Now, I should explain that I am not a lesbian. Obviously. I'm married with an almost grown up son. But I have often had fantasies about being with another woman. And yes, I mean masturbation fantasies. And some of those fantasies have involved Claire. Quite a lot of them actually. Of course, I've never acted on them, it's always been just that: A fantasy. But this brief glimpse of her pussy sent my head spinning. I already mentioned that she was an exhibitionist, but that was just her wonderful boobs. I felt a stirring in-between my own legs at the sight. This had the effect of making me keep trying to catch furtive glances of her as we talked, and I kept losing track of the conversation.

"Fiona? What do you think?"

I looked up, "Sorry, hun, I was miles away. Think about what?"

She grinned at me, "I knew you weren't listening! Think about going to that Jamie Oliver restaurant. I booked us in for tonight."

"Oh wow! That is wonderful! Yes, perfect."

With that we travelled onwards towards London and my thoughts kept returning to that brief glimpse. And then, as we pulled into Liverpool Street Station, Claire uncrossed her legs again and I got what I had been wishing so hard for for the whole journey. Unconsciously or not, she sat there with her legs slightly apart, and her skirt up high again. I was treated to the delightful sight, for all of five seconds, of her pussy. I could clearly make out her lips, and could see she was slightly damp, and the little hood of her clitoris was swollen. I tried to be sneaky in my glances, but I was sure that Claire must have known what she was doing. The next moment she smoothed her skirt out and we both stood up, retrieved our cases and went to get a taxi.

All the way from the train to the hotel, I was in a haze. I just couldn't stop thinking about what I'd seen, and I was trying to work out whether she had done it deliberately. Was my fantasy going to come true this weekend?

As we got out of the taxi, a concierge from the hotel came over and said, "Are you staying with us tonight ladies? Can I take your bags?"

I was still flustered, and Claire stepped in, "Yes, thank you." As the concierge left with our cases, she turned to me and said, "Fiona, what on earth is the matter with you? You were all lively and chatty on the train, and then you just stopped and have been all distant ever since. Did you forget something, are you regretting our weekend away?"

This brought me out of my completely weird state. I needed to focus. From what she'd said, Claire's actions were far from deliberate. If she'd done it deliberately, she would know exactly why I was so distracted. I hid my disappointment and smiled ruefully. "No sweetie. I didn't forget anything, I was just miles away in La La Fiona land. I'm back now. Let's go check in and start the fun. This is our girly weekend!"

We followed the concierge in. I have to admit that although I was disappointed, there was a certain part of me that was relieved. The idea of actually fulfilling my fantasy with Claire made me at once turned on, but at the same time incredibly nervous. What if I had misread the signals and done something? She would have rejected me and I'm sure our friendship would have suffered, and I loved her too much for that. I was also now was regretting getting a shared room. If I had been on my own I would have added another chapter to my fantasy and been able to play with myself thinking about what I'd seen on the train.

But we were where we were, and we were doing what we were doing, so with a slightly lifted heart, I went with her to the reception desk.

The rather attractive, if somewhat plastic and over made up, young woman behind the desk, her name badge said she was called 'Stacey', said, "can I help you?"

"Yes," I said, "We have a double room booked in the name of Edwards. Fiona Edwards."

She looked at us with a quizzical air, but kept a professional detachment. She obviously thought we were lovers or something. How wrong could she be?

To my regret.

"Certainly madam and... madam." She tapped some keys on her keyboard and I saw her eyebrows raise. "Ms Edwards - you appear to have booked... the honeymoon suite?"

"I certainly did not!" I said, "What on earth do you take me for?"

She looked down again, "Yes - you definitely have the Penthouse Honeymoon Suite. I even have an instruction here to make sure you have a bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne on ice with two glasses for your arrival."

I looked at Claire, somewhat bemused, and said, "Did you do this? Is this some sort of prank?"

"No! I would never do that!" She said, "There must be some mistake. You booked a package. Was it some sort of honeymoon package you booked by mistake?"

I was really confused now. I know that the weekend break was advertised as a 'Getaway Break' with suggestions for all the sights that were within easy reach of the hotel. At this point 'Stacey' broke in to our confusion and said, "Ms Edwards, I can assure you that this room is not part of some 'Getaway Break', but the bill has been paid in full, in advance, so don't worry on that account."

Now completely at a loss as to what was going on, I said, "Could it be that another Fiona Edwards is expected?"

Stacey tapped more keys and stared at her screen. "No, Ms. Edwards. There is nobody by that name, or even surname due to check in tonight."

In my mind I just said to myself, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." Out loud I said, "Well, that's absolutely fine then."

Claire and I looked at each other in confusion, but what the hell? We were going to get a luxury suite, which was several notches up the scale from what I had originally booked. But who had paid? If it wasn't Claire, and I suppose it still could be but she seemed completely sincere, then who?

Stacey handed over a small envelope with our key cards in it and explained that we were on the 15th floor, and directed us to the lift. A bell hop took our bags and led us over and we ascended to the 15th floor in that awkward elevator silence. We got out and the bell hop led us to our room and opened the door.

Onto a scene of such amazing opulence that we both took a short breath. The suite was stunning. We were on the top floor of the hotel, with huge windows looking out over London. The room was tasteful yet huge, the colours all pastel shades, with Scandinavian style furniture, but the most amazing part of it was the bed. Only one bed. When I'd booked, I'd made sure we had a room with two beds in. But this bed was big enough for three. It had a beautifully curved and moulded headboard, that seemed to be a long slow wave tumbling down from the wall to the bed.The furnishings were exquisite, with deep, comfortable looking chairs, and a large soft fabric covered sofa.

In a daze once again, I tipped the bell hop and he left, seemingly happy.

As the door closed, we looked at each other and for some odd reason cracked up laughing. Almost doubling over, every time we looked at each other we laughed again.

"What... what... how?" I said trying to catch my breath.

Claire composed herself and said, "Best not to ask. Oh, and look! There's our champagne!"

And sure enough, in an ice bucket on the pine coffee table in the centre of the room was a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and two glasses. There was an envelope on the table next to it. It was addressed simply "To Fiona and Claire."

Intrigued I picked it up and opened it. Inside was a card, "Hi girls! Have a great weekend. You both work really hard, so I thought I'd treat you to an upgrade. Enjoy the champagne! Oh, and you're not coming back until Monday, Love Brian, xxx"

My wonderful husband had arranged it. Mystery solved. Well, sort of. Poor darling clearly hadn't realised that when he asked to upgrade us to the best suite we would get one, admittedly very large, bed rather than two.

Claire was reading over my shoulder, her chin resting on me, "Oh wow! That is so lovely of Brian! What a kind and thoughtful thing!"

I turned my head, and the desire to kiss her was almost overwhelming. I suddenly had a flash back to the train and the memory that she was so close to me with her bare pussy made me almost swoon with desire.

I pulled myself together somehow and reached down for the bottle and turned to face Claire. I worked on the cork, which is something I'm not particularly good at to be honest, and I was struggling, and suddenly the cork popped and the champagne frothed out, a little spilling over the front of Claire's dress. I quickly took the bottle and poured into the two flutes while Claire laughed, "Well, I suppose I'd better unpack so I can change into something dry."

"I'm so sorry sweetie! I don't get to open champagne very often," I said.

"Don't worry, silly! Accidents happen. Nothing can be allowed to ruin our girly weekend." With that she squatted down, opened her case and sorted through until she found a dress she liked. It was one I'd seen her in before. A lovely autumn gold loose fit with a slightly flared skirt. "Could you unzip me please, hun?" She said.

I looked up, "Uh, yeah. Sure," I said, and went round behind her to unzip her dress. I slid the zip down and was so incredibly conscious of her body. I could see her bra strap, and of course when I got to the bottom, I could see her beautiful, bare bum. "There you go," I said.

What I expected next was that she'd take her outfit into the bathroom and slip into it. What actually happened was that she reached back and unclipped her bra, then turned around, completely naked, standing in front of me. I had never seen another woman, let alone Claire, completely naked in front of me before. Well, not strictly true. Of course, there were times in the showers at school, but that was so different to this. I couldn't help myself. Speechless, I just stared at her beautiful curves.

"I need to ask your honest opinion, Fiona. I have such terrible self image. Do I look ok to you?"

I didn't know what to say, but I felt that my honest feelings were the best way to go. "Claire, your body is as delicious, delightful and delectable as I've always imagined it was. You are gorgeous, wonderful and so, so super sexy."

"You really think so? You're not just saying that?"

"I really think so," I said, "There isn't a man on the planet who could resist you." I suddenly realised that there must be something behind this, "Is something wrong? Has somebody said something to you?"

"No. No, they haven't. I just worry, that's all."

I didn't know quite what to do The oddness of the situation suddenly struck me. I was standing with my best friend, who was stark naked, feeling a little turned on, a little nervous, and a little concerned for her feelings.

Tentatively I reached forward and stroked her arm. "You really don't need to worry. Hell, if I was a bloke I'd fancy you," I said in a half confession.

"Would you?"

"Yes, sweetie. I would."

"What about as a woman?"

I tried to get my head around that question. Was she asking what I thought she was asking?

"You mean do I fancy you as a woman?"

"Yes."

I took a deep breath, "Yes. Yes, Claire I do."

"Really?"

I was shaking with lust and nerves as I admitted, "Really. I always have. I probably shouldn't tell you this, but you are my fantasy woman."

"Fantasy woman? Like as in, 'perfect'?" She asked with a slight quizzical smile on her face.

"Well, yes. And more," I said blushing, "Like as in when I fantasise."

She looked at me, tilted her beautiful head to one side and said, "Show me..."

I stood frozen to the spot. Something that had been a private fantasy in my head, was now on the cusp of becoming reality. I swallowed, looked at her beautiful nakedness. A silence seemed to fall over us, and we were in this bubble where the rest of the world just didn't exist. Claire was no more than three feet from me, so I took a step forward and planted a kiss on her lips. A tentative one. She responded by wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me to her, returning the kiss more passionately. I placed my arms around her and we were locked in an embrace. I could feel her naked, glorious breasts pressing against my tee-shirt, against my braless breasts. I felt a huge surge centred on my pussy move out in waves around and through me and I had to draw in a breath, so I pulled back slightly and Claire opened her eyes, just as I did.

Without a word, she lifted my tee shirt, and I loosed my hands and held them up as she raised it over my head to reveal my breasts. I could feel how hard my nipples were. Claire now undid the button on my jeans and slid my zip down. I put my hands on the waist band and helped her slide them down over my thighs and down my legs. I stepped back and sat on the bed while Claire removed my shoes and slid my jeans off. I was now just in my panties, sitting on the bed.

Not one word had been said, and Claire rose up out from her crouch and pushed me down onto the bed, then lay down beside me. I was shaking with a combination of nerves and lust. She was on her side and reached a hand over to cup and stroke my breast. My nipples were so engorged they almost hurt. But I wanted more than that. I wanted to touch her as well, so I turned on my side and put my arm over her and pulled her to me. We kissed again, more passionately, our tongues intertwining. I could feel her breasts squashed against mine and just that fact was driving me wild. I could feel the wetness in my panties, and I so wanted to be touched there, and I so wanted to touch her there as well.

With one hand I was stroking the back of her head, as she did to me, and with the other I stroked down her back to her bum cheeks and caressed her, pushing my sex against hers. She opened her legs a little and I lifted my bum a little and slid my lower leg between hers and slid it up gently so that my thigh was rubbing her. When I felt her wet, naked pussy on my skin it was one of the most erotic things I have ever experienced. As we locked together, she slid the leg between my legs up to press against my own pantie clad sex. We started a movement that seemed to come naturally, her wetness sliding on me, mine on her. We started to moan into each other's mouths as we continued to kiss.

We were slow, and gentle and yet there was something urgent and wild about the way we were stroking, kissing, riding each other. I could feel her wetness against me, and how my own clit was throbbing and desperate.

I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of eternity exploring Claire's body, and to have her explore mine. I broke away from the kiss and opened my eyes. We looked directly at each, deep into each other and no words were needed. We were almost hanging off the enormous bed, so I pushed her gently back so that she was flat on her back and I started to kiss her, first on the neck, nibbling under her ears, down to her beautiful breasts, licking and kissing over the flesh to her nipple. I took the nearest one in my mouth and felt its hardness, circling it with my tongue. With my free hand I stroked down over her other breast and took that nipple in my fingers. I was acting with such unusual abandon. I am normally fairly quiet and reserved, but not at that moment. This was my fantasy coming true, and I didn't want it to stop.


The Weekend Pt. 01-06



The Weekend -- Part 1, The Arrival

I eagerly await your arrival with a mixture of anticipation and fear. We have talked about this weekend for a very long time and I can't believe it has finally arrived. We have negotiated as thoroughly as we can possibly think to negotiate. Part of me worries that the negotiation will ruin the weekend -- the element of surprise is gone. The rest of me is well aware that the negotiations have hardly prepared me for the reality of what is to come. The reality... oh my god. Did I say eagerly awaiting? Did I say anticipation? Fucking hell. I'm ready to run for the hills right this second. I cannot do this.

I hear your knock on the door. My heart leaps in my chest and the butterflies threaten to beat their way out of my stomach. I briefly imagine pretending like I'm not home, but there is a dark part of me that craves this... aches for it. Besides, I already confirmed that I was home when we talked on the phone an hour ago. Oops. I go to the door and peek to ensure it is you on the other side. I wouldn't be surprised if you can hear my knees knocking or my unsteady breathing through the door.

I take a moment to collect myself, failing utterly, and open the door. I step behind it so as not to display my nakedness to my unsuspecting neighbors across the street and to give myself one more moment's reprieve before I must face the inevitable. 

You step inside and close the door behind you. I am left trembling against the wall, bereft of the door that was shielding me from you. I keep my eyes low, too terrified to meet your gaze. I can feel your eyes burning my flesh as you take me in. You move slowly—as if to avoid startling a skittish animal—locking the door behind you, settling your bag on the floor just inside the door. Your eyes never leave me. I pray desperately for the floor to open and swallow me up; I want very much to hide from you. Instead, I stand there and fidget, breathing unsteadily, staring at the uncooperative floor.

You raise a finger slowly to lift my chin, holding it there until my eyes flicker nervously to yours and then away again. I hear your breathing shift to intentionally slow, deep breaths. I know you are doing this to calm me, to bolster me, to reassure me. This is one of the methods we discussed for handling my fear and trigger finger for calling the whole thing off. You give me time to adjust, simply breathing deeply and patiently waiting. My eyes flicker to yours and away a few more times before I finally manage to hold your gaze steadily.

Your eyes are smiling, welcoming, gentle. But there is also a wicked light in them that stops my breath in my throat. Reality is here and now. Oh my god!

We stand like this for a few moments more... until my breathing matches yours, slow and deep. Your eyes are dancing, infectious. I feel the burn of desire overwhelm the fear, my hunger flaring. And then your hand closes around my throat, pinning me to the wall, inhibiting my air flow, your gaze turning dark and dangerous.

The wind is knocked from me, literally and figuratively. I struggle for breath, remembering why I was afraid. Your mouth closes over mine, your lips, tongue, and teeth claiming me with a possessive, almost angry attack. My lips are bruised and swollen, my thoughts foggy from a shortage of oxygen when you finally pull back. Your hand slides from my throat to fist in my hair. I drag in desperate breaths, relieved to have the air flowing unimpeded. 

Your hand twists in my hair, gripping firmly. Your free hand slaps my face, sharp and hard. I am caught off guard even though I expected it at some point. The hand in my hair tightens until I drop to my knees even as my mind drops into the subspace I have been craving.

  The Weekend -- Part 2, Consent

I am on my knees in front of you, my back against the wall, your fist in my hair holding me steady. I am vaguely aware that we have not exchanged any verbal greetings even though you have been here for at least 10 minutes. I am too foggy to analyze why, but somehow it seems fitting.

You stroke my face with your fingers and I lean into your touch as much as I can. Each time your fingers lift from my face, I steel myself for another slap, but you simply move your fingers and continue stroking. My tension grows with each undelivered slap and I begin to shake. I want to scream, but there is really nothing to scream about. Yet. Your quiet laugh is somehow gentle and cruel at the same time. I suspect you know exactly what I'm expecting and that you are deliberately toying with me, allowing my overactive imagination to get the better of me. 

Your hand eventually stills on my face, your palm cupping my cheek. You squat in front of me and turn my face so that your lips are against my ear. Your voice is low when you speak. There is no greeting, just this terrifying reminder, "You are mine. There is no safeword unless you are in danger of being harmed." I hide my face against your chest, remembering our discussions about the difference between being hurt and being harmed. There is no doubt that you will hurt me.

You pull back to look me in the eye and then ask, "Shall we begin?" My throat clenches and words escape me. I don't think I can answer you, but I know I must; it is part of our negotiation. My eyes well with tears as I fight to utter the words. It is so incredibly difficult for me to speak when I am anywhere near subspace. I like to hide in my silence. 

I have practiced these words over and over since we first negotiated them. I repeated them aloud when I was alone and in my head when I was out and about. I hugged the fantasy to myself, bouncing giddily over it for weeks, but the reality carries a sense of helpless terror and a massive head rush. What the fuck am I doing?

Your eyes are locked on mine. Each time I try to shift my gaze or turn my head to hide, the hand in my hair drags me back. My voice is strained and the words halting, but I finally manage to answer, "I am yours. There is no safeword unless I am in danger of being harmed."

A sense of powerlessness washes over me, along with an urge to rear up and rebel. I want to reassert my control, renounce my abdication. I want to... FUCK! The slap on my face is sudden and hard. I squeal and try to pull away, but the hand in my hair is unrelenting. More slaps follow. I sob and try to block my face with my hands. 

You hiss a single, threatening word, "Hands!" I hurriedly drop my hands to my lap, lacing the fingers tightly to keep them out of your way. The slaps continue... every one I expected earlier and then some. The rebellion fizzles and I find my way back into subspace, a few slow tears slipping down my reddened cheeks.

With your hand still in my hair, you pull me away from the wall and steer me through the house on my hands and knees. I crawl gingerly on the hard entryway floor, thankful when I reach the modicum of comfort in the carpeted living room. My comfort is short-lived when I find myself facing the sliding glass door into the backyard. You unlock the door and slide it open, pushing me forward onto the deck. It isn't the hard wood of the deck that discomforts me now, but rather the bright sun streaming onto my naked body. The privacy fences will keep most eyes at bay, but... what if? What if?! Oh my god.

  The Weekend -- Part 3, The Great Outdoors

It is a beautiful summer afternoon. The weekend weather forecast is perfect. Perfect if one's goal is to be outside. Not so perfect if one is hoping to have an excuse to stay inside. But who am I kidding? I am thrilled. Terrified. Tingling. Trembling. Oh, and wet, even if it isn't particularly alliterative. 

I kneel on the hard wood of my deck, aware of every inch of my nakedness exposed to the warmth of the sun and the great outdoors. You tighten the fist in my hair and propel me forward. I have a quick flash of self-recrimination for not taking better care of my lawn. It is full of the prickly balls from the sweetgum trees that sit just outside my back fence. Ow! Best not to crawl on those. I carefully pick my way through them, thankful that you don't appear to be in any hurry. 

We stop at the center of the backyard. Despite the warmth of the sun, I shiver from nervous anticipation. My mind races as I wonder what comes next. My concern that negotiations might ruin the surprise of the weekend is all for naught. I have no idea how things will play out. We talked about so many things!

Your smile is broad when you look down at me. I can tell that you are at least as excited as I am. The twinkle in your eyes would be enough, but the tent in your pants emphasizes it well. You utter a single word, "Stay." I recognize the path you are heading down from your word choice and my stomach flip flops. I quickly drop my eyes and flush deeply, shaking from nervousness and at least a little bit of dread.

You slip back into the house, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts. It feels like you are gone forever. Long enough for me to question making this fantasy a reality a half dozen times. I should stop this... but I can't. I already consented to playing without a safeword. When will I learn to keep my mouth shut? Why did I tell you this fantasy? Agree to these terms? A rather superior sounding voice in my head answers, "Because you want exactly this." I glare at my internal self and wrap my arms tightly around my body. I feel incredibly exposed as I kneel naked in my backyard.

I imagine you are examining the toy closet and making plans. I wonder if you are watching me through the window also. I am facing away from the house, so I cannot tell, and I am too nervous to move. When you told me to stay... did that mean I shouldn't turn around? I don't know and I'm afraid to risk it, so I wait. Patience is a virtue, but it isn't one of mine and this is its own kind of torture. I suspect you planned it that way.

  The Weekend -- Part 4, Charmed

I hear the screen on the sliding glass door open and close again. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as I wait for you to travel the few short steps from the door to where I wait in the back yard. I realize that I am holding my breath and it suddenly occurs to me that maybe waiting wasn't such a bad thing. I'm willing to wait a little longer. Really. Go back in the house! Please. Pretty please. With a cherry on top. This cherry. Let's leave it be. My mind screams, but my lips are silent.

Your hand slides into my hair, gripping firmly and tilting my head back so that I am forced to look at you. Goosebumps rise on my flesh and the breath I'm still holding is now caught in my chest. Your smile is both warm and treacherous, which boggles my already overwhelmed brain. You bend to brush your lips very gently against mine and then you say, "Breathe." 

I slowly release my breath and shakily draw in another one. You wait patiently until my breathing settles back into a more normal pattern. Then you smile again and release my hair, reaching into your back pocket. You pull out a collar that I recognize from my toy closet. I am not surprised, though the sight almost brings me to tears as I am overpowered by my fear.

You buckle the collar around my neck. It is a simple collar that has been around for years, mostly gathering dust, while this fantasy hides from the light of day. Then you reach back into your pocket, pull out a lock, and efficiently lock the collar in place. A jolt of electricity or something very similar shoots down my spine. There's just something about the sound of a lock clicking into place. It's so... I don't know the word. But whatever it is, it very much is.

I nervously rub my hands up and down my thighs, trying to settle myself. You reach back into your pocket once again and then open your hand so that I can see what you have. A small charm rests in your palm. It is a simple charm with a single word etched into it, "Puppy." The tears that have been threatening finally spill over, slowly sliding down my cheeks. You quickly clasp the charm onto the collar and then kneel in front of me so that we are face to face.

You gently place your hands on both of my cheeks, thumbs brushing the damp tears away. You place your forehead against mine, wrap your arms around me, and pull me into your body. We are pressed together from our foreheads to our knees, your arms enveloping me. I feel vulnerable and exposed, one of my darker fantasies now gleaming in the bright light of day. I also feel warm and safe. Yes, you are toying with a space I don't let many people into, but I also know that when the weekend ends and the terror subsides, I will be grateful for giving you access to this part of me, for trusting you to take me down this path.

  The Weekend -- Part 5, Loss of Limbs

You hold me against your body until the reality has found space to settle into my brain and the tension flows out of me. Your lips briefly brush my forehead, cheeks, and lips. There is tenderness and familiar intimacy in your touch. I am scared, but I am safe. Mostly.

You pull back and study my eyes. I know you are checking to make sure I am grounded. I am reassured that you are watching out for signs that I am slipping into a bad space and I answer your unspoken question with a smile and a brief nod. Satisfied, you separate your body from mine and stand up. I continue to kneel where I am, waiting to see what will happen next.

Your fingers briefly grip the charm at my throat—renewing my consciousness of it—before you step away. You return with the bag that you had brought back outside with you but had left out of my range of vision. I eye it speculatively, trying to imagine what horrors it might contain. I don't have long to wait.

The first thing you pull out is a pair of special mittens. I stare at them as my mind somersaults around the possibilities of how they will impact me. Fuck. My stomach joins in the somersaulting. You hold the first mitten out to me and I meekly lift my hand in stunned obedience so that you can slip it on. You quickly buckle it around my wrist and then hold the other one out to me. 

A flash of rebellion flares again and I fist my free hand in my lap, trying to quickly think through an escape plan. Epic fail. I cannot concentrate long enough to find a way out. My hesitation results in another hard slap to my face, quickly dousing the flare. I yelp and raise my hand to you. The second mitten is buckled into place, effectively turn my hands into, well... paws. I try to swallow the rising panic, but it refuses to budge and expands to yet another level when these too are locked into place.

Your fingers lightly stroke my cheek, soothing the spot that stings from the slap. The quick changes from gentle to brutal and back again get to me every time. I am off balance, edgy, uncertain. This is part of the mental play that is necessary to really get under my skin and you do it so well.

You return to your bag and pull out some coils of rope. I forget my edginess momentarily and unconsciously lick my lips as I watch you work with the rope. Rope is so incredibly hot. I love all forms of bondage, but there's something special about rope. Within a few moments, you fashion a comfortably snug rope harness around my waist, building in a free loop that makes me internally scratch my head. What could that be for?

You ease me from my kneeling up position down onto my knees and mittened hands. You attach a rope to my right ankle, then pass the ends of the rope through the free loop of my waist harness, then back down to attach to my left ankle. You carefully bind off the rope and ask me to stretch out my right leg. All too soon I realize that I can stretch out my right leg, but only by bringing my left leg in closer to my crotch. The left leg is the same. There is not enough slack in the rope to allow me to stretch both legs out at the same time. You have effectively taken away my bi-pedal movements with a vision for long-term wear. I will be able to stretch out one leg at a time to ease muscle cramps, but I won't be able to stand up until the harness is removed. 

Panic swirls with admiration for your devious brilliance. At some point, I will tell you how hot your mind is, but for now I turn my focus to remembering how to breathe as the implications of this deviousness sink in more fully. God help me.  

The Weekend -- Part 6, Careful What You Wish For

All told, you have been here less than two hours, but my transformation is so complete that it feels like it must be much longer. The sun is still warm on my back though it is considerably lower in the sky than when you first arrived. 

I hear the neighbors open their back door on the other side of the privacy fence. Based on the sounds drifting over, they have clearly chosen to grill tonight. And why not? It's a beautiful evening. Why not?! Because I'm naked and tied up over here, that's why! The different factions of my brain war with each other at this unexpected evolution of my predicament. I want to tell you that this is too close for comfort, to escape into the relative safety of the house. I look up at you, nervously biting my lip, trying to figure out what I might say to get you to move us inside. Your eyes are laughing, delighted with the extra element that played right into your hands. With a sinking feeling, I realize you are not going to let me off the hook that easily.

To my horror, you say aloud in a casual voice, "Well, pup... it's such a nice night. I think we'll eat outside. Stay. I'll be right back." I cringe and gingerly crawl to the other side of the tree. This is silly -- as if the tree affords any greater protection than the privacy fence already gives me -- but I do it anyway. 

There's a logical piece of my brain that realizes you haven't said anything to suggest to my neighbors that you are speaking to anyone other than a dog. But the other part of my brain envisions horrible scenarios. They probably know I didn't have a dog -- what if they want to come over to see it? What if you forget and say something that gives us away? I certainly won't say anything! I'm too afraid to speak. I cower on the other side of the tree, shaking and uneasy. 

I hear you come back out on the deck and put some stuff down. I continue to shake. I am immobilized by fear of discovery. "Here, pup! Come!" I don't like this anymore. I want out. Fuck. Then I hear your whistle. It is loud and piercing, followed immediately by "Come! Now." I am suddenly aware that the longer I wait, the louder you will call, and the more likely you are to draw the attention of the neighbors. This motivates me to move. I slowly crawl out from behind the tree and move toward the deck.

Your smile is wicked and cruel. Your voice is clear to anyone who cares to listen. "Good girl. That's a good girl! You already know to come when I call you. That will make you so much easier to train." I glower ineffectively and am rewarded by your silent laughter and dancing eyes. "Eat up, pup!" 

I glance down at the deck and see that you have placed two bowls there, one with food and one with water. The queasiness in my stomach ratchets up a notch or two. The reality of this fantasy is coming back to bite me. The superior bitch in my head is laughing and taunting, "Be careful what you wish for." I hate her. I really do. I stare at you sullenly, hoping you will get the hint that I do not like this and take me inside.

Your reaction is lightning quick and steals the breath from my lungs. Your hand is in my hair, wrenching me into a kneeling up position, your breath hot against my ear when you whisper savagely, "You are mine. There is no safeword unless you are in danger of being harmed. Submission isn't always about having fun. Behave!" 

The admonishment cuts deeply and tears roll down my cheeks again as I start to sob quietly. You kiss my cheek and then push me back onto my hands and knees. I lean into your legs and you reward me with gentle strokes to my hair and back. "Good girl," you whisper soothingly. "Good girl." 




The Weekend Pt. 01-06



The strokes and soothing whispers continue. My sobbing eventually subsides and I am a left with a deeper feeling of submission than I have ever experienced. I bucked and fought, but you did not give into me. I am yours.



The Weekend Pt. 01



All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.

©Andyhm 2015 





The Weekend Pt. 01



She came with a muted cry as I pushed two fingers into the hot wet warmth of her cunt. She came again moments later as I caressed her G-spot, this time with a loud cry. Her legs tightened around my head and I nibbled at her clit a she writhed under me. 

"Oh holy fuck, what are you doing to me, I love you so much." 

I looked up at her flushed face as she rose to her elbows and peered down her body at me. 

"I love the sweet taste of you," I told her, "But now I just want to bury myself deep inside you." 

"Please," she said, "fuck me, show me how much you love me." She held her arms out to me inviting me to cover her body with mine. 

I knelt up and pulled my shorts off and tossed them over my shoulder. My rampant cock was as hard as I'd ever seen, and moments later all seven inches drove into her willing passage. 

I groaned as I slid into her tight wet cunt. The walls fluttered as they stretched to accommodate me. 

"Oh fuck yessss," Karen gasped as I pressed down on her. Her legs arms and legs wrapped around me holding me in place. 

She felt so wonderful and I wanted to watch her face as she lost herself to the waves of pleasure that ran across her features when with slow deliberate movements I thrust in and out of her. She met my thrusts, pushing up against me each time. Her mouth was open as she gasped each time the head of my cock ran across her G-spot. We moved to the rhythm of the waves lapping at golden sand. Both of us reaching our climaxes at the same time. Karen crying out incoherently, and I groaned as I came, cum pulsing out to coat her willing vessel. 

We lay in the dappled shade it the coconut pales that fringed the sand. It was an afternoon of new delights. I can't remember how many times we made love, on the towels or in the sea by the time the sun dipped below the horizon. 

Finally, we dressed and rode the couple of miles back to the villa in the falling twilight. As we rode Karen's arms were wrapped tightly around me and I could hear her murmuring in my ear. 

"I love you; you make me feel complete." 

They were my sentiments as well and I decided that tonight was the night I would ask her the question. 





The Weekend Pt. 01



I spent most of the rest of the day walking around, refining and editing my idea. The idea of using a Monopoly card was a no go, primarily because I couldn't find a damn Monopoly game anywhere. At last I ended up in a local jewellers where I found a gold heart locket with a small diamond set into it. I had the jeweller engrave inside on one side the words,





The Weekend Pt. 01



"Brutal, but again correct." I said, careful to enunciate each word as I filled my glass from the half-empty bottle on the table. "But that's not everything. I guess what hurts the most is that for the first time in our lives she won't discuss the situation with me. We have no secrets or at least until today I didn't think we had any." 

"And your response to this was to walk away and drown your sorrows," 

"As I'm sitting here I think we can both agree that a yes." I gestured towards my again nearly empty glass.

He sighed, "Not that I'm an expert in this field, but I'm afraid that wasn't your best decision on the night." 

Another sip and I continued, "Again an astute comment. What I don't understand is where she met the bloody guy. My best guess has to be the sales conference in Chicago but there was no indication that anything had changed when she got back. Suddenly, this evening over a bowl of pasta she tells me she wants ... No, that she needs to go away this weekend, and insinuates by giving me the locket, that she won't be faithful to me." 

I thought about her words, "Oddly though," I said, "She didn't actually say she was going to fuck him. Just that it would 'stretch the boundaries of our fidelity' whatever the fuck that means?" 

George considered my words, "Have you asked her?"

"I tried but she wouldn't discuss it, and I don't really have the right to force her. When I gave her the free pass, I said no questions and no recriminations so basically I've fucked myself." 

"I think you need to ask her again, after ten years of marriage I think you have the right to get answers. And for Christ sake, will you either answer your damn phone, or switch it off. The buzzing every five minutes is pissing me off."

"Sorry," and I finally pulled it out of my shirt pocket and checked it. Multiple missed calls and then I guess after she'd filled the voice mail, numerous texts.

I tried to focus on the last few texts.

Please come home you are the only one I love and we need to talk. 

Neil, where are you?

Neil, please come home and I'll explain everything.

I clumsily typed in, thankful for corrective text. 

Not sure where the hell I am, but far too pissed to drive. I'll be safely back tomorrow luv me :). 

And pressed send then switched it off.

I looked at the now almost empty bottle and decided that the siren call of a bed was too loud to ignore. With George's help I made it up the stairs and he showed me my room.

The bedside clock said one-thirty the first time and then nine-o-five when I managed to prize my eyes open the next morning. Considering the amount of alcohol imbibed last night I felt a lot better than I expected, or deserved.

Thirty minutes later, after a refreshing shower spoilt by the fact I had to dress in yesterday's clothes, I made my way down stairs. I followed the aroma of frying bacon to its source. George and a woman who he introduced as his long suffering girlfriend Milly, greeted me with a plate of bacon and eggs, toast and marmalade washed down with the perfect cup of tea.

As I mopped up the last of the egg yolk with a piece of toast, Milly said, "George was telling me about your situation. I admire the strength of your love that you comfortable to give your wife one chance to let her hair down." 

I shook my head. "Honestly, I'm not sure I am that strong. I was a lot younger and stronger when I made the offer than I am now. I love her and it came as a bit of a shock that after ten years she felt the need to roam." I put my hand up to forestall the question on her lips. 

"I thought she'd forgotten all about my offer; I know I almost had. So when she let me know last night that she wanted to go away this weekend. I don't think my initial reaction was the one she expected, and I'm not proud of my behaviour." 

Have you spoken to her?" 

Again I shook my head, and replied. "Not since I sent her the text last night," 

Milly looked pointedly at the phone in my shirt pocket. "So call her."

I suppose now is as good a time as ever, I thought and switched my phone back on. The welcome message had barely appeared before it buzzed in my hand. 

I accepted the call and put the phone to my ear, moving away from the table as I did. 

There was a long pause before I heard a timid voice say, "Neil is that you?" And then another long pause. "Please speak to me Neil," she sobbed down the phone. 

"Hi love." 

"Neeeil, please don't leave me." And I heard her crying uncontrollably. 

"Karen, I'm not going to leave you. I'll be home in a couple of hours." 

"Good," said a strange woman's voice, "because I won't let you hurt her anymore. Not when it's my fault!" The phone disconnected. 

I looked blankly at the phone in my hand. Who the fuck was that? Somewhere in the back of my mind her voice sounded vaguely familiar. 

Milly and George looked at me as I returned to the table. "All sorted?" Milly asked. 

"Damned if I know?" I replied. "There was someone with her. A woman who said it's all her fault. I think I getter go." 

I paid my bill and George gave me back my car keys and a travel mug of strong coffee. I made a quick call to the department secretary and let her know that I wouldn't be coming into the department that day. I had a feeling the discussions when I got home were liable to extend deep into the night.

The sign at the side of the road as I left the village said. 





The Weekend Pt. 01



I nibbled gently on her nipple, while rolling the other one gently between my thumb and forefinger. Claire was moaning and spoke for the first time in what seemed like an age, "Oh, god Fiona. Oh god," and then started sighing and moaning as I carried on kissing, nibbling and tweaking.

There was now something that I wanted to do that I have fantasised about so many times that has always given me the biggest orgasms just thinking about it. I wanted to touch her pussy. I slid my hand away from her nipple, stroking down over her belly, over her beautiful shaven mound, soft, but not tickling, and then I let my fingers see for me as I stroked down the outside of her lips. She lifted her hips up almost as if she were trying to force me to enter her with my fingers. When my fingers reached the bottom of her lips, I let one finger slide between them and then started moving up. There. I felt her entrance. I stroked around the outside, sliding the tip of my finger in a little. Claire groaned with passion, and I sucked more urgently on her nipple as I then let my finger move up once more, sliding up until I found her clit. For me, this was my nirvana moment. I've always wanted to touch another woman's clit, and here I was. At that moment it felt like I could come without anybody touching me. I felt a shudder starting in the centre of my cunt and rippling out again, only so much more powerful. It lasted only a second but it made my head spin.

Claire's clit was swollen, wet and hard, and I ran my finger over it, around it, stroking underneath and then on the top, rubbing my finger in a little vibrato motion pushing down on the top of her hood. Claire was now making little "oh, oh, oh," sounds, like I do when I'm about to have an orgasm, but I didn't want her to cum yet. I didn't want this first adventure to end yet. So I took my mouth off her nipple and slid down to kneel on the floor, her legs dangling over the edge. Now I was seeing her pussy up close, for the first time, and I loved every inch of what I was seeing. I leant forward and planted a kiss on her clitty, and Claire shuddered. I loved the fact that I was able to do this to her and to make her feel these things. It wasn't a power trip, it was a giving thing, and it still is to this day. I loved giving her pleasure.

I placed my lips over her clit and started flicking my tongue back and forth, slowly at first, over her swollen button. The taste was like my taste, but different. More perfume, slightly sweeter. Claire was now gripping the bed cover with both fists, and I brought my hand up and slid a finger slowly into her wetness. I was in heaven. I could feel her wetness around me, and felt her muscles contracting around me. I stroked with my finger tips upwards, feeling for the soft pad of her g-spot. Something Brian found for me years ago and which gives me such forceful orgasms. There it was. I brushed my finger back and forth, a few millimetres only, and Claire lifted up again. She was open, and then contracting. I knew she was moments away from orgasm. Suddenly I got that centred feeling, like the world has stopped, or slowed down, and I could feel an orgasm starting in me. I hadn't even touched myself, and I could feel I was about to cum. At that moment, I felt her muscles contract around my finger, and her clit suddenly went rock hard as I flicked it.

Claire screamed out, "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! I'm coooommming!" and her pussy walls were squeezing and opening rapidly and that's when my orgasm hit me. It was strong, and I felt like I was going to pass out, but I knew I couldn't let Claire down. I kept my mouth clamped over her and sucked as we both came and then it happened. A great big gush out of her pussy, all over me. Over my chin, my cheeks, down over my breasts and dribbling down to my quivering pussy. I'd heard about women ejaculating, but thought it was urban myth. Now here it was. All over me, and it made more flushes of orgasm ride through me. Claire started to subside, but I tried to carry on gently nibbling her clit with my lips. She shuddered several times and finally said, "Stop. Stop, Fiona. It's too much. Oh fuck."

I pulled my face away from her, and slumped. I had just experienced something I had only dreamed about. Making love with another woman, seeing, playing with her body, her tits, her clit, and I had come without being touched.

I subsided and turned my head sideways and rested it between her legs. Breathing quickly and feeling her wetness and warmth on my hair, while she stroked my head.

After a while, and I really couldn't say if it was thirty seconds or thirty minutes, I heard her say, "I'm not having that..."

I lifted my head and looked at her prone body on the bed, her breasts flat against her chest. She'd lifted her head and had it propped on one hand. She was looking at me.

"Have I done something wrong?" I said, scared that she was now regretting what we'd done.

"Wrong? Are you kidding me? That was wonderful! I meant, I'm not having just me have an orgasm."

She sat up, my head was still between her legs, and her swollen, wet pussy lips were right there in front of me. I looked up at her beautiful face. "You really don't need to worry about me. I just had a huge come."

Claire looked puzzled, "But, what. Did you play with yourself? I feel cheated," she said with that mischievous grin that I knew so well.

I smiled back, "No, hun. Something amazing happened. I was so turned on by the whole thing, I came. Without touching."

"Let me see," she said.

I got up and it was clear. My little white cotton panties were completely soaked. Claire reached over and stroked the material gently with her finger, just where my clit was. I shuddered. With both hands she carefully started sliding my panties down over my hips.

"I still say it's not fair," She said. "You have seen every inch of me. Now it's my turn."

Now there I was, revealed. My bush glistening with my wetness. She guided me with her hands onto the bed. I knelt on it and lay down on my back, giving myself to her, anticipating what was to come with a huge desire. I was still so incredibly horny. I could feel my clit still alive and throbbing. My legs were slightly parted, and Claire pulled herself up so that we were, once again, side by side. I kept my eyes locked on hers, and she stared at me. She smiled, her eyes lighting up with laughter and pleasure. She leant over and kissed me gently on my mouth, tasting her own juices. She licked my chin, tasting more, and then she licked and kissed her way down my body. I was in pure heaven as her mouth made it to my nipple and she took it in, sucking on it, flicking it with her tongue. I could feel the direct connection between my nipples and my clit. I wanted, no needed, her to touch me down there.

As if she had read my mind, her hand wandered down over my belly, and stroked my triangle of hair, twirling it with her fingers. My hips lifted involuntarily, begging her all on their own to touch me. Her fingers slowly slid down, and then she touched the hood of my clit, and she circled around it. Her sucking and nibbling became a little more fierce on my nipple, and the shockwaves it sent through me were almost enough to make me pass out with pleasure.

Then she did something that made me go wild with lust. She placed her index finger and thumb on either side of my engorged, wet clit, and she started a slow motion, stroking up and down and squeezing. I have quite a large clit when I'm aroused, and I was more aroused than I can remember being in a long time. My husband calls it my 'little cock'. It can get to about a centimetre in length, and about the same at the base. She continued sucking on my nipple, and stroking and squeezing my clit and I could feel my next orgasm coming.

And then she stopped.

The shock of the stimulation going away was like a new sort of horny. Because I had been so close, it actually heightened the feelings. I had never felt anything like that before. Seconds later, but it seemed like forever, she continued her stroking, wanking my clit with her fingers and the temperature in my cunt went up ten degrees more. I could feel the orgasm about to flood out.

But she stopped again.

I cried out in lust and frustration. This was almost too much. I didn't know if I could stand it, but then, she started again and that was it. Having already had one orgasm, I can usually have another two or three quickly afterwards, and this was no exception. It ripped through my whole body, bigger and more debilitating than the last, I was shaking and crying out meaningless sounds, and as I did, she continued to stroke either side of my clit with her fingers and the wave didn't stop, it built up even more and I started crashing through another wave of pleasure, bigger and better and now I felt like I was about to pass out. As the orgasm took me over, Claire slid her fingers down through my slit and she pushed two fingers inside me, curling them upwards and finding my g-spot, stroking it. And orgasm number three added its voice to my crescendo and all I remember is my whole body becoming electric and the release of all of the orgasms seemingly at once and I crashed back, my arms and legs shaking as if I'd been plugged into the mains.

I lay there as Claire slid her fingers out of me, which sent another delicious shiver through my body, catching my breath. Trying to stay conscious, which was no mean feat in itself.

As I slowly came back down to earth from heaven, Claire came back up and put her arm around me and snuggled herself into my neck.

I heard her as if from a distance, "Well, I don't need to ask how that was for you," she said with a warm smile on her lips.

She brought her fingers up and tasted them, and then placed them on my lips. I lazily licked at my own juices on her, and I finally was able to speak.

"That was the most wonderful, erotic thing I have ever, ever experienced in my life," I said.

Claire considered for a moment before saying, "for me too, sweetie. Me too. I've had a fantasy about you pretty much since the first time we met."

"Really?" I said, somewhat surprised, but I suppose in the circumstances I shouldn't have been.

"Oh god, yes. I've lusted after you for a long time."

I was so relieved. My fantasy wasn't going to ruin our friendship, and maybe it would make it something stronger, something more.

She planted a gentle kiss on my mouth, and then said, "Ok. If we're going to make dinner tonight, we need to shower, do our hair and get dressed."

"You don't want to lie here a little longer?" I said, play pouting a little.

"God, Fiona, I really would. But let's have some food. We have to be there in two hours."

"That's plenty of time to..."

"Let's shower," she said, and got up off the bed. She stood there waiting for me, holding her hand out. I looked at her gorgeous body and reluctantly swung myself up, and let her pull me onto my feet. I nearly passed out as the lack of blood to my head from all those orgasms hit home. I steadied myself and let her lead me, naked and fulfilled, into the bathroom.

We hadn't even managed to get as far as the bathroom when we came in, I realised, and all I could manage was, "Wow."

We had a giant corner bath with enough room for three, and a shower cubicle that seemed to have been designed to accommodate a football team, with seats in the corners and multiple shower heads above us. The whole bathroom was white marble tile, and it was beyond luxury.

"Now that's what I call a bathroom," Claire said.

"We haven't unpacked yet, I need to get my shampoo and everything," I protested.

"Take a look, sweetie. Everything we need is here. Look, there's even razor blades so we can do our legs."

"Are you saying I'm hairy?" I riposted with a look of mock indignation.

"Well you are there," she replied, pointing at my pubic mound and raising an eyebrow at me.

And with that she opened the door to the shower and walked in.

"Come on, sweetie. Do you want to do my back first, or shall I do you?" She said.

"You can do me anytime, my goddess." I said and walked into the shower.

I followed Claire into the shower, and she pressed a button on the wall, and suddenly we were surrounded by wonderfully powerful streams of hot water. It came from above, and from the side, powerful jets that woke me up out of my post orgasmic state. I looked at her and I couldn't resist the urge to touch her beautiful naked flesh.

I stroked up her arm as the water fell over us, and suddenly we were in an embrace, my hands roving over her head and her back, hers sliding down to my bum cheeks, kissing with our eyes closed.

I pulled back, and she opened her eyes. I slid my hand down between us to find her clit. The feel of the torrent of water running over and between my fingers and her bald pussy was intoxicating, and I felt her stiffen with desire. I felt her clit harden under my touch, and I echoed the way she had touched me, sliding my index finger and thumb over her clit, holding her like a small cock and making small movements up and down.

I felt her weaken in my hold as she said, "Oh, god, Fiona. Oh god."

"Goddess, remember," I teased, feeling a liberation and naughtiness I never imagined existed. Here I was, making love with the woman I had fantasised about for so long, and it seemed that a weight, a burden, had dropped from my shoulders. I was free. Free from my hangups, and now I wanted to explore everything that was new with Claire.

My fingers were still stroking her clit in small up and down movements and Claire breathed hard and said, "Goddess. Yes. Oh goddess."

I was so aroused it was unbelievable. The very fact of making love with her had given me an orgasm, and my clit was still aflame. As I continued my stroking I felt Claire's hand stroke down my bush and find my clit. Claire leaned back against the wall of the shower and, with the water flowing all around us we played with each other's clits. We hit a rhythm, completely in sync. When I moved my fingers, she moved hers in exactly the same way. We were a mirror of each other. It was as if I was masturbating, but using someone else's hand. We were both there, our bodies drenched with water and stroking in unison and I could feel another orgasm approaching. Normally I find it very difficult to come when I'm standing, but now I could feel it. And I could feel how close Claire was. The eroticism of what we were doing, how we were feeding back to each other our needs, how to touch, how to stroke, started to overcome me, and I suddenly pressed hard on Claire's clit as she pressed on mine.

That was it. We both went over the edge together, not quite able to control our fingers anymore, but it didn't matter. The feedback kept working and we hugged closely as we both cried out in ecstasy. As my orgasm started to subside, Claire slowed down her movements, and in reflection, so did I. We stood, locked together, shuddering as our orgasms subsided, the water still cascading over us. There was a long moment of just holding each other tightly.

I finally managed to get my mind back together and said, "Oh god... sorry goddess, Claire. You are just wonderful."

Her eyes blinked open, her hair drenched by the shower, and looked at me.

"No, Fiona, my goddess. We are wonderful," and with that she kissed me gently and I felt myself melt into her arms.

"Right," she said, "now I am going to wash you. Everywhere."

She gave me her wonderful impish smile and I smiled back, "You have to. You're the one responsible for the mess I'm in!"

"Cheeky cow!" she laughed, and grabbed a bottle of shower gel from the shelf and opened it. She poured some out into her hands and lathered up and then, starting at my neck, she proceeded to smooth it over my shoulders, my breasts, which made my nipples stand up once more, my back, my belly, my bum, my thighs, she got down on her knees and soaped my calves and my feet. Then she stood back up and put a little more gel in her hands and cupped my pussy, slowly rubbing it, making my pubic hair lather up. It was such a wonderful feeling. I was standing there, soap all over my body, water rushing over me and it felt so amazingly good.

I snatched the bottle from her and said, "Two can play at that game."

I filled my palm with the gel and paid the same attention to her, covering her shoulders, then I focussed on her wonderful breasts. I applied the gel gently, stroking just under her breast line, just as I know I love to have done, and over her gorgeous nipples. Stroking gently with my palms. Then I moved around her back, down over her bum and her thighs, down to her feet. I came around the front and knelt down. I planted a gentle kiss at the top of her pussy, just above her clit and I let my tongue slide down and over it. It was like an act of supplication. I stopped and stood up. Without a word we were in each other's arms. Our bodies sliding together, the soap and water washing over us. We were both fulfilled, at least for now, and glorying in our wonderful bonding. We kissed, and the feel of her body against mine was affirming and delicious.

Claire drew back and grabbed one of the detachable shower heads and started spraying soap off my body. It was electrifying and I loved when the powerful spray played on my breasts, my thighs and my pussy. When I was completely free of soap, she took one of the shampoo bottles and applied it to my hair. I'm usually really fussy about the type of shampoo I use, and I actually had some of my favourite in my case, but I didn't care. I felt completely spoiled and I loved it.

Once she'd finished rinsing my hair our, I performed the same ritual on her. Shower head in hand I washed all the soap away, and then applied the shampoo, giving her a scalp massage as I did so. I rinsed her hair and then, without a word, we kissed. It was almost a chaste kiss. A wonderful feeling of bliss surrounded us. Our bubble.

"Come on. Let's get ourselves sorted out for dinner," Claire said in a languid tone.

We left the shower and dried each other with the enormous towels that the hotel supplied.

Claire said, "So, are we going to talk about this?" 

I was confused. Not sure why she was asking. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, about the fact we've obviously had this thing for each other for a long time, and now what... where do we go from here?"

I thought about it for a few seconds and knew. "We're going to be lovers, I hope. I want."

Claire leaned over and placed a kiss on my lips, "Perfect."

We went into the bedroom and fixed each other's hair, drying and brushing, and then unpacked our cases. We both picked out our outfits for the evening. Claire was going to wear a white blouse with a small floral pattern, and a matching loose white skirt with a lovely pleat. I picked my favourite little black dress, off the left shoulder and a few daring inches above knee height. They needed ironing, so we hunted and found an ironing board and iron in a closet.

We were talking all the time, saying how this was such a wonderful moment, such a wonderful start to our weekend.

As we were dressing each other, Claire looked at me and said, "Let's both not wear panties tonight. I want to be able to touch you any chance I get."

I am, I have to admit, a born exhibitionist as well. And since I couldn't wear a bra with my outfit, it meant all I would be wearing was my heels and my skirt. I loved the idea.

"I'd love that," I said.



The Weekend Pt. 02



Before reading this little adventure, please read The Weekend (Part I) which was originally intended as a stand-alone story and I have changed slightly at the suggestion of several readers in order to extend and complete the tale of our heroine. 

There is not a great deal of graphic sexual shenanigans in this absolute figment of my imagination, so if you are looking for a 'stroke' story, please give it a miss if you feel you may be disappointed. 

As always. Any similarities in these stories with persons either living or dead are purely coincidental and not intended to cause offence. 

The copyright for the following story is owned by the author and it may not be republished without his express permission. 

Here's hoping you enjoy, 

Oldie 

***** 

Summer 2008 - June 

Chapter 1 

"No Emma... No way... It would be like you are my pimp or something." 

"What about if I bring James again? You had a great night with him that weekend didn't you?" 

"I said NO... That night should never have happened, you know that. You both caught me in a weak moment." 

"For fuck's sake mum, you're just being silly. I only offered to help you out that's all." 

"Well I don't need your help to find men, so just drop it... Okay?... And stop swearing." 

The 22yr old daughter stomped off to her bedroom in frustration, muttering to herself about the stubbornness of the repressed older generation her mother belonged to. She couldn't see any problem with what she had proposed. After all, all she'd done was suggest that she knew some fit young men who would love to fuck her mum if she really wanted to be a sexy Cougar and have the kind of uncomplicated sex- life Emma had herself. She was sure many of her male friends at college would be more than happy to sleep with an incredibly sexy mature woman like her mother. As usual, her embarrassed parent had gone off the deep end. Full of shame-filled denial of her innermost desires and trying to banish any thoughts of what she had willingly allowed to happen to her, her infuriated mother had dismissed her daughter's well-meaning suggestion with an infuriating outburst of moral indignation. 

Barbara grimaced as she heard the bedroom door slam. Outwardly, she was visibly annoyed at her daughter's temerity for even suggesting such a thing. How on earth did the young girl think it would be okay for her to mother to have casual sex with boys she hardly knew? Boys who were half her age, perhaps even boys her daughter had slept with herself? Inwardly though, deep inside her previously inhibited psyche, she thrilled at the lurid images flashing through her brain. Images of James' muscular young body as he lay on top of her and pounded his thick penis deep into her loins. Wonderful memories of how he had taken her from behind, his strong hands gripping her soft hips as he thrust himself into her. Yes, Barbara thought to herself, she would love to be taken aggressively like that again - and again, and again. As many times as it took to satisfy her lusts. Yes, she wanted to be fucked, wanted to be used as a sexual goddess. But how? How could she meet those young men without the whole world knowing about it and disapproving?... 

* * * 

It had been more than six weeks since Barbara had spent that wild, lascivious weekend having sex with her daughter's some-time boyfriend. Six weeks since she had been fucked - not made love to, that had been years. Not since her husband David had been so cruelly taken from her had she known the tenderness of being intimate with the person she loved. She reluctantly admitted to herself that she was grateful for that weekend. Happy now in the knowledge that she could in fact enjoy having sex without any emotional attachment to the person she was sharing her body with. All the inner doubts she had been having were well and truly banished to the back of her mind, leaving her primed for any sexual activity that may become available to her healthy, horny, mature body. 

How to meet suitable men though? How to meet unattached young men who weren't the kind of sleaze-balls she'd always imagined would searching for lonely, middle-aged women to have sex with. That was the problem for a single woman of her age who very rarely ventured out socially. Certainly, she never went to any place where there might be a selection of potentially available young studs who were on the prowl for an older woman to ravish. In truth, when she thought about it, she had absolutely no idea where those sort of places may even be located. 

Sadly, all of the possible partners her friends had introduced her to were not in the least bit suitable for participation in the kind of sexual exploits she had in mind. Yes, some of them had been pleasant enough to talk to, but not one of them had stirred her loins as young James had. The hard body of an athlete; the stamina and enthusiasm only a man of his tender years could possess; the penis that seemed to be permanently erect whenever she needed it. All those qualities had, she had to grudgingly admit, raised her expectations and completely ruined her for the sort of genteel, steady lovemaking on offer from men of her own age. Emma and James had indeed coined the phrase that identified what she wanted to become. Cougar - an older woman who sought out young men for the sole purpose of sexual fun and satisfaction - that was what she wanted, no, that is what she needed to be... 

Having firmly rejected Emma's outrageous suggestion of bringing friends from college back with her whenever she came to stay, Barbara was in a quandary. She wanted to meet someone, but knew she wouldn't feel safe going into a bar or a club alone. She didn't have any 'single' girlfriends to go out with either, all her female friends were married and she wouldn't feel right asking any of them to go with her when she went looking for a man. Consequently then, her chances of meeting a young man face to face would more or less be left to luck, hoping a fit young Lothario would be tempted enough to approach her whilst she was out and about shopping or whatever - something that seemed to happen frequently in the trashy romantic novels she loved to read, but undoubtedly hardly ever happened in real life. Fortunately, despite all Barbara's misgivings and the two diverse women's disagreements, her daughter did eventually come to her rescue with what seemed to be a reasonable suggestion. 

Emma had been reading several women's magazines searching for ideas on how single and lonely mature women could meet men. They all seemed to be of the same opinion - the most convenient and frequently successful approach to meeting someone for a shy or busy woman, was on one of the many internet dating sites that had sprung up over the last few years. The problem was, her mother hated computers. She'd never had one, very rarely used one, and certainly didn't trust them. Reluctantly then, one Monday afternoon in May, an eager, but strangely nervous Barbara found herself in a branch of a major electronics retailer being patronised by a spotty-faced, greasy-haired arrogant young boy who was making little effort to disguise his contempt of all people above the age of 16. Despite the condescending attitude of the extremely irritating and impatient young man, she managed to purchase a top of the range Dell laptop and, with it tucked under her arm, almost ran out of the store before she completely lost it and slapped the cocky little prick across his acne-riddled chops. 

The day after she bought the laptop, Barbara had eagerly waited for her appointment with the broadband company recommended by Gerald. She'd fortunately calmed down overnight, admittedly with the help of several large glasses of white wine, when an engineer arrived to install a complete wireless system in her apartment. The type of system any modern, young single woman needed - according that is, to what the extremely competent telephone salesperson told the mature but gullible Barbara - one that would enable her to connect to the internet wherever she was in the flat. The helpful young engineer, after installing all the relevant cabling and equipment, had showed her how to 'login' and how to set up a security password so that only she would be able to use the network, explaining everything to her thoroughly and completely earning the large tip she insisted he take. 

Almost inevitably of course, left to her own devices, the totally bemused and inexperienced new user didn't take long to completely cock everything up, locking herself out of the system and preventing herself, or anyone else for that matter, from connecting to the internet. 

At a loss as to what to do, Barbara tried ringing her daughter, only to find that the young girl had her mobile phone switched off and was unavailable to help. Impatient to begin exploring the 'net', she tried a couple of friends, both of who were unable to help her, being as they were around the same age as her and had about the same knowledge she had when it came to computers. Eventually, she came across her architect friend Gerald's name in her phone contact list. As a habitual computer user through his work, her only single, male friend was certain he would be able to get her going again and told her he would be round in about half an hour, telling her to make sure she had a bottle of good Chablis chilling in the fridge. 

* * * 

As promised, Gerald arrived 35 minutes later and immediately began gently ribbing her about her apparent 'elderly person' computer problems, pointing out that maybe, just maybe, she might have been better reading the instruction booklet before attempting to use the laptop. Amidst much good-humoured banter back and forth, he quickly re-booted the system and logged her onto the internet once again. 

"And what made you finally decide to enter the twenty-first century then?" Gerald laughingly enquired, leaning back on the comfortable sofa and sipping at the glass of cold wine he'd been offered when he arrived. 

"Oh, you know... I thought I should get up to date and join the rest of the world. Although if I'd have known I'd have to put up with you extracting the urine like that, I wouldn't have bothered." 

The two good friends chatted happily together, finishing the wine and eating the Chinese takeaway they'd decided to order when they discovered neither of them had had dinner. Slightly tipsy - she'd drunk far more wine than her friend, who'd insisted he had to drive back home after he'd sorted her out - Barbara found herself telling him all about her lecherous weekend with her daughter's boyfriend, eventually confessing that the real reason she wanted the computer was to go online and find herself some more young men to have wild, passionate sex with. 

"Bloody hell Barb... You little slut, you... I had no idea you were into boys young enough to be your son... You naughty old slapper." Gerald laughed, pushing her gently before hugging her to him in a warm embrace. 

"Oh please don't... I know I'm a dirty old trollop, you don't have to tell me... I just happened to find it exciting, being shagged like that... So hard... You know, so energetically." 

"Oh I do know sweetheart. I love younger men myself... Their young firm bodies and all that stamina... So damned hard to resist." 

"Yes, but you're just an old perve." She teased, "But I do love you dearly..." Their laughter filled the room as the good friends collapsed on the sofa in a fit of giggling, hugging and crushing one another in a warm display of mutual affection. 

A short while later, Barbara was leant against her gay friend's chest, almost asleep due to effect of the wine and his hand gently caressing the back of her neck. "Where were you going to look? You know... On the net. What sites were you going to?" Gerald queried, extracting himself from her embrace and re-opening the laptop on the coffee table in front of them. 

"I've got no idea, Emma just read in some magazine or other that the 'net' was the best place to find dates nowadays, so I thought I'd give it a go." 

"Oh, Okay... Would you like me to suggest some suitable sites?" 

Barbara sat up and gazed quizzically into his eyes, her eyebrow raised in a silent question. 

"What?... So I use those sort of sites myself... Okay?" He laughed, mock indignation in his voice. 

"But what would I want with a gay man?... I don't want ANYTHING up my bottom, thank you very much... Well not a gay man's thingy anyway." 

"Don't knock it until you try it, you naughty old bigot. You never know what you might enjoy until you give it a go." Gerald mocked, dragging her slim body over his knees and slapping her backside hard enough to sting and send warm sexy feelings flashing through her loins. 

"GERALD... You big, bloody tease... Stop it... God, it's such a shame you're gay, you kinky old fart. We could really make some happy music together if we ever did the dirty deed." She chuckled, all remaining semblance of her dignity disappearing as she rolled away from his grasp and rested on her hands and knees for a breathless second before inelegantly attempting to rise from the floor. 

"In your dreams girl, in your dreams." He laughed, logging onto the internet as she clumsily pulled herself from the floor and sat next to him again, "There are dating sites that have all sorts of people on them. Men and women looking for anything you could think of. Gay, straight, bi... Anything you might fancy really." 

"Really?... Wow! I had no idea... I absolutely must get out more, as my daughter keeps telling me." 

"I thought that was the idea." Gerald laughed, earning himself a gentle punch in the ribs. 

* * * 

The two unfortunately sexually-incompatible friends soon discovered they actually had similar tastes when it came to prospective sex-partners. Both of them liked young, fit men; muscular and good-looking with a nice smile. To Barbara's amusement, they also both agreed that they preferred a good-sized, nothing out-of-the-ordinary, normal-looking, penis. Of course, their conversation rapidly became competitive - each of them trying to beat the other when it came to putting 'dibs' onto any particularly attractive specimen of nude masculinity. 

Barbara had quickly realised during their exploration of the internet, just how naive and innocent she had been previously. She'd ultimately concluded, the more and more kinky, even sometimes bizarre, details of other peoples sex-lives they'd uncovered, that all her naughty dreams, all the sexy fantasies she and her late husband David had shared, were nowhere near as perverted as she had once thought. Feeling her sex moisten as they looked at the advertisements, many containing explicit nude photographs, she'd finally had to admit to herself that she found all this extremely exciting. 

Browsing through the provocative messages with Gerald, she'd seen propositions and offers to participate in things that absolutely amazed her. She'd been especially shocked by some of the invitations from the couples on there. - "How on earth can they supposedly love each other and yet want to have kinky sex with other people?" She'd asked of Gerald - Even just a few months ago, Barbara would have been appalled at such suggestions. Yes, she'd had fantasies before, dreams of sharing her body with David and another man. But that's all they were, just fantasies to be kept private and used to enhance their already deeply pleasurable love-life. After what she'd seen in those advertisements though, she'd soon accepted that her own fantasies had been mild in comparison to some of the desires expressed by people on those websites. Yes, she admitted restlessly, those audacious, hopeful sexual-playmates were kinky; some of them even downright filthy; but as she'd excitedly realised when she felt her sex heating up and moistening, she found many of them very arousing and tempting. 

Eventually, Gerald left her apartment to go to his own home, reluctantly declining her offer of the use of her spare bedroom as he had to be on a building site early the following morning. Barbara had then drunkenly fallen into her bed and, amidst dreams of hard six-packs and large, throbbing penises, had brought herself to two particularly satisfying orgasms using her fingers and then her favourite 'Rampant Rabbit' vibrator... 

* * * 

The following morning, a slightly hungover Barbara sat nursing her second mug of black coffee of the day. Her new laptop lay open in front of her on the kitchen table as she studied the short list of websites Gerald had left for her to investigate. She chuckled to herself, remembering how he'd tried to show her how to look at them without committing herself to any form of membership - tried and failed miserably, their conversation rapidly sinking to a bawdy level of lewdness and giggling as they compared some of the people who were advertising for participants in all manner of degenerate sexual activities. 

Many confused thoughts were running through her mind as she stared at the blank screen, unsure of whether to continue with her explorations or not as she turned the list over and over in her hands.. Could she actually do this?... Is this what she genuinely wanted?... Could she REALLY meet a perfect stranger, knowing that, probably within the hour, she would be having vigorous, no-strings-attached sex with him? 

Finally, giggling nervously to herself, she logged onto the internet and began searching the websites on Gerald's list, "C'mon girl... You can do this. Go out and get yourself a good seeing to. You know you want to." she chastised herself, chuckling nervously as she logged onto the first site on the list, "Just put it out there and go get yourself FUCKED..." 

Chapter 2 

Over the next couple of weeks, Barbara investigated the full list of sites given to her by Gerald. On several occasions her friend came round to her apartment and helped her search for what she was looking for. Occasions which invariably ended up with them both in hysterics, much the worse for wear with drink due to amount of wine they'd consumed, but also most definitely horny because of the content of their searches. Barbara was astonished at the blatant exhibitionism of many of the people who's advertisements they looked at. Lots of men, quite a few women, and many, many couples searching for extra excitement in their otherwise mundane lives, had placed very explicit photos of themselves. Men had pictures of their erect penises, women had their legs spread showing their wide open genitals, and nearly every couple had photos of them both together in various stages of undress. 

Barbara gasped loudly at seeing a particularly explicit image of an easy-recognisable, attractive, middle-aged couple having anal sex. "My God!... I could never do that. Show myself to the whole world like that I mean. Bloody hell, I'd be petrified anyone who knows me would see them... I mean... They're shameless, for fuck's sake..." 

"Me too. I never put public photos on. I only send them some if they ask for them privately and have some of their own... Although... If you do need someone to take photos of you like that, I do have a really good camera..." 

"You really are an old pervert." Barbara laughed, missing when attempting to slap her cheeky friend around the ear as he ducked away from her reach before grabbing her and hugging her tightly as they collapsed giggling like a pair of school-kids once again. 

"Seriously though Barb. Are you going to sign up for membership of one of the sites then?" 




The Weekend Pt. 02



All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.

(c)Andyhm 2015 





The Weekend Pt. 02



"Ok pub it is," I said, "But Gillian you are going to tell me the truth. You will answer my questions or you might as well leave now." She murmured her agreement. 

"Karen, you and I really need to have a talk about your past. The rules of the game for both of you are simple. I ask a question and you answer it truthfully." They both agreed. I had to wait twenty minutes before we headed off to the pub while they changed out of the old jeans and tee-shirts they were wearing and into something more suitable.

Their idea of suitable made my jaw drop. Gillian had borrowed a black dress of Karen's and with her raven hair pulled back into a French braid, she looked every inch the movie star she was. For some reason, I don't recall Karen filling out that dress the same way Gillian did. Karen was in my favourite denim skirt and a white peasant blouse and my heart ached as I took in her beauty. I held my arms out to her and she hugged me, her lips seeking mine. 

The pub is a five-minute walk away. It nestles to one side of the village cricket pitch, close to the infamous duck pond. It's a proper English village pub, a haunt for the locals. It's warm, cosy, friendly and best of all it's off the beaten track. Strangers are a rarity and discouraged. It was our local and due to an interesting set of circumstances we been excepted by the locals very early on. So when Gillian walked in front of us, there was a brief hush, until they saw Karen and me following her and then the hubbub resumed. 

I waved at Carol, the owner of the pub. She smiled at me as I ordered our drinks from the bar. We found a cosy corner and made ourselves comfortable. The girls sat next to each other on a padded bench and I sat on the other side of the table in a high back wing armchair so I could look at both of them at the same time. I wanted to see how they reacted to my questions. 

Carol came over with our drinks. She gave Karen a kiss on the cheek and me a hug, she ruffled my hair. Karen induced her to Gillian calling her Jilly. 

"You remind me of someone," Carol said to Gillian, but she didn't wait for a response. Turning to Karen, she asked if we wanted food and seeing us nod she listed the specials. The girls ordered the grilled salmon and salad. I was happy to hear that my favourite was on the menu, game pie. 

Once Carol had left, I looked at the two beautiful women sitting across the table. They both looked nervous and apprehensive, but they sat quietly waiting for me to start. 

I swallowed a mouthful of my beer and then asked, "Why all these charades Gillian? Because I don't think a final weekend with Karen is what you are looking for." 

"It did start out like that, I followed the script just the way my therapist proposed. But after meeting Karen last week I knew it would not be enough. I could sense that she still loved me." She turned to my wife and looked at her with desperation in her eyes. "Please don't deny it, I know you felt it as well." 

"Jilly I've never stopped loving you, holding you in my arms brought it all back to the surface." Gillian's face lit up but lost its sparkle as Karen continued. "But as much as I love you, it doesn't compare to how much I love Neil." 

Karen reached out and delicately caressed the side of Gillian's face. "You will always have a significant place in my heart, but he owns it. You were my first true love and you helped me understand who I am. I don't think I would have survived my first year at university if it hadn't been for you." She put her arm around Gillian and she responded by laying her head on Karen's shoulder with a little sob.

The image of the pair of them sitting opposite me brought back a fleeting memory. 

"Now I remember you," I said. "That midterm party at Michael's a month or so after we met. I got there very late and you two were sitting just like that on the sofa. I was just happy to see she wasn't being hit on by Michael's mates." I gave an ironic laugh. "Only you were hitting on her weren't you?" 

She smiled ruefully back at me, "That's right, only it was probably one of the few times I wasn't trying to win her back. I just told her that I was going to the States the following term to finish my degree." 

"I couldn't let you see me crying," Karen remembered. "I had to rush off to the loo, I was scared you'd ask awkward questions." 

"Time for a bit of honesty I think," I said. "Who wants to go first?" 

There was a long pause while they looked at each other. "I'll go first," Gillian said. 

She leant forward so she didn't need to shout. She held out her hand and Karen took it. 

"Here goes. When Karen told me she'd fallen in love with you, my world fell apart. I was freer with my relationships, but I always knew that Karen loved me. She was the one I'd go back to and she'd take me back each time. When she rejected me, I had to get away and there was an opportunity to finish my studies in New York. I jumped at it hoping for a fresh start and didn't I just get one. The drama professor got me a job as an extra on a film. An old student of hers was directing it." 

"She went with me and introduced me to Rachael, the director. When she heard my British accent, she gave me a few lines to say. She gave me a small role in her next film and then the roles kept coming along until three years later I'm staring in my first movie." 

She took a sip from her drink and then continued. "And yes before you ask I did sleep with Rachael. The sex was fun, but I didn't love her. I've stumbled from one role to the next and one affair to the next. I love the acting, but not one of my affairs actually meant anything. I knew that there was something missing. I enjoyed the sex, but there was never the spark. I love Karen and I always will." 

"This is where it gets a bit embarrassing. I've had a firm of private investigators on retainer for the past five years. They've been keeping an eye on both of you." 

"What the fuck!" I exclaimed. 

"I wasn't looking for anything bad," she assured us. "I wanted to know what Karen was doing. I just wanted to feel like I was part of your life. They'd send me updates, photos and videos. Getting new ones were the highlights of my week. They let me know if you were going somewhere I could watch you safely. I even sent you tickets to events so I could see you." 

"A month ago they informed me you were going to Chicago to the conference. I had it all set up so that when we met it would look like a complete accident." 

Karen said, "You're a Hollywood megastar, how did you keep this secret? If it came out you were spying on us the gossip columnists would have plastered all over the papers." 

"Money buys silence," said Gillian. "Plus everything is done through my lawyers and they use several different cut-outs." 

We fell silent as Carol served our food. She looked carefully at Gillian and then said quietly, "You're Gillian Faith aren't you? I thought I recognised you earlier."

I said, "Damn it, Carol don't tell anyone. She's an old friend of Karen's and the last thing we want is for a pack of paparazzi to descend on the village." 

"I wasn't going to say anything, but I don't know if you've seen this. It might be wise if I give Philip and the lads a heads up in case people start asking questions about her." She laid a tabloid paper on the table open to the gossip pages. Then she walked over to a couple of the local lads from the village cricket team and started talking with them. 

Gillian's face was prominent under a banner headline. 

'JACK AND JILL. BIG BUST UP IN RESTAURANT'.

"Fuck!" Gillian looked around her as though she expected hordes of photographers to pop up. "The big bust up was me saying I needed a few days alone to sort out a personal issue and him taking a huff and walking out on me. He was a bit of a waste of space so it's no great loss." 

Karen said, "Are you talking about Jack Williams, the singer?" 

Gillian nodded. 

I gave her a questioning look, she'd mentioned splitting up with her boyfriend earlier, but I hadn't registered it. "Am I missing something here, your boyfriend?"

"Neil, I'm bi, I prefer women, but I do enjoy sex with the odd man. And having a boyfriend is right for my public persona. Karen was only interested in women when I knew her, I was so shocked when she told me she'd fallen in love with you." 

"Yes, that's another thing I've learnt today." 

Karen reached out and grasped my hand, "I know I should have told you before this. It's true that when I first met you, I was only interested in women. I met you and that changed, now you are my only love. I've never met another man I'm attracted to." 

I had to ask the question that was in the front of my mind. "What about other women. Have you had any other lovers since I've known you?" 

"No one new since before Thailand when you asked me to marry you. And before that, there were no mad love affairs, but I'd kept in contact with my old friends in the flat." 

The overnight stays at her old flat I thought. "The nights you would stay over at your old flat. I never understood why you kept your room, it makes sense now." 

"It was an extremely confusing time for me. I thought of myself as gay and yet I loved a man. You only had to smile at me and I went weak at the knees. I'd go back to the flat and immerse myself in the company of women. But all it did was prove to me how much I love you. If you recall my visits to the flat, tailed off in the last few months." 

"So all those months you'd leave my bed and find solace in the arms of your lovers," I said bitterly. 

"I was trying to understand all my conflicting emotions." 

"And did you ever resolve them?" 

"I love you that's the simple truth, but I still find women attractive." 

I laughed to myself, "And I used to be worried about the men in your office. Now I guess I need to worry about the women." 

"I might go window shopping darling, but I will never go into the shop." Her tone was bright but brittle to my ears. 

We'd finished the food and Carol took the empty plates away. Nature called and I needed to recycle the beers I'd been drinking. As I walked back to the corner, a couple of the lads from the local cricket club called me over. 

"Mum's given us the nod about your guest," Philip said. We'll pass the word around on the QT. If we see anyone hanging about, we'll suggest they move on and we'll let you know." 

I grinned, from past experience, Philip's idea of suggesting someone move on was usually achieved with the aid of his size twelve boots and a quick visit to the duck pond. "Thanks, mate, I owe you." 

"Funny you should say that, but we're a man short for the match on Saturday." I groaned theatrically and the pair of them laughed. 

I made my way back to the girls. They'd moved apart on the bench leaving a place between. They indicated they wanted me to sit there.

Gillian started, "I want to say I'm really sorry, I never wanted to damage your marriage. It's just, I so missed her. I really did want a last weekend, but I was hoping that it would also be the start of something with both of you. When I saw her last week one of the things she mentioned was that you loved her so much, you were willing to let her have one chance to stray." 

Gillian took a deep breath and continued. "So I worked on her until she agreed to spend some time with me. I wanted her to stay for the weekend after the conference, but she refused." 

Karen said, "There was no way I could do it without talking to you first. I know you gave me your permission all those years ago, but I needed you to say it was ok again. I was hoping that you trusted me enough that you wouldn't ask awkward questions and I wouldn't have to own up to my lesbian past."

"I just wish you'd explained why you wanted to go. I thought I was losing you."

"Never love," she whispered as she took my head in her hands and pulled me into a long sensual kiss that left us both gasping. Then to my surprise, Gillian pulled me around to face her and drew me into a passionate kiss. 

I must have looked panicked. Karen took my hand and smiling whispered, "Its ok." So I relaxed and enjoyed the kiss. 

After the kiss, I rested my head on the back of the bench and said, "Thank you for that but I thought you didn't like me?"

"You're growing on me and it was only in the early days I hated you. Now I'm just jealous of the relationship you have together. I wanted to try for myself and discover what it is that Karen sees in you." 

"And?" Karen asked. 

"He kisses beautifully." 

"He does, doesn't he," she said with a sigh. I looked back and forth at the soppy grins on both of their faces and came to the conclusion that they were both daft. Not that I was ever going to say it out aloud, I value my body parts too much. 

Then suddenly I was alone on the bench as they disappeared in the direction of the loos. There seems to be an unwritten rule that no woman can ever visit the bathroom alone. The question that every man has asked himself is. What in gods name do you do in there that requires two or more of you? On second thoughts leave me my fantasies. 

Every man and most of the women followed their progress across the pub. I smiled as more than one of the lads at the bar had to adjust his jeans. One guy swivelled so much on his bar stool he had to clutch at the counter to stop falling off. 

Carol walked over. "Christ lad, you put the cat amongst the pigeons with those kisses. It's the first time I've ever seen every man in the bar drooling and that includes Roger who's as bent as a nine bob note." 

I had to laugh at the thought of Roger drooling over women. The trouble was I has a mouthful of beer at the time and it went down the wrong pipe. I was still red in the face and Carol was wiping down the mess on the table when the girls returned from the bathroom. I got a puzzled look from them which made me laugh and choke again. 

Karen said, "I think it's time for us to go, Neil, we have something we'd like to discuss when we get home." 

I paid the bill and we headed out of the pub. Philip caught me as we were leaving. 

"Don't forget the match on Saturday. It starts at one, and......" I had to smile he said all that without once looking at me. His eyes were fixed on Gillian. She smiled at him and he completely lost his train of thought. 

"Err...yes whites....bowling," then he got himself under control. "Karen, will you and your friend be coming to watch Neil make a fool of himself on Saturday?" 

She gave me a questioning look. 

"The guys are keeping an eye out for any paparazzi and in return, I'm playing on Saturday." 

She looked at me and then said with no emotion in her voice, "If we're here we will come along Philip." Again she looked at me and I couldn't read her expression.

We walked back to the cottage in silence. I wasn't sure what I'd done but apparently agreeing to play cricket had upset her. 

The frosty silence continued as we settled down in the lounge at home. I opened a bottle of wine for them and poured myself a whiskey before sitting down in the armchair. I watched the two of them poised on the edge of the sofa. 

"Jilly's invited both of us to her place in the south of France this weekend," Karen said as she watched me intently. 

Ahh, the penny dropped! This was what they had been plotting in the loos at the pub. Me agreeing to play on Saturday had put a spanner in their plans. Well, not really because I would never have gone.

"Sorry love," I replied lightly. "A promise is a promise and I've agreed to play on Saturday." 

"Can't you get out of it?" She asked hopefully.

"Probably, but I'm not going to. In return for the lads discouraging any paparazzi that turn up, I agreed to play as they are a man short. And quite frankly being the third wheel at her villa isn't my idea of a fun weekend." 

Karen looked hurt, "That's not fair, you were never an afterthought, and I wouldn't leave you alone this weekend so Jilly suggested you could come with us."

I drew a deep breath in and let it out slowly to control my anger. Then with a deep sigh, I said, "And that's my problem love. The us in that statement isn't me and you, it's you and her!" I sat back in my chair and watched the conflicting emotions flit across her face. Annoyance, followed by a realisation of what she said and then fear.

She came and knelt at my feet, she rested her arms on my knees and looked up at me. "I'm so sorry, we...I...thought that it would be an excellent opportunity for you to get to know Jilly." 

"Did you want to go?"

She hesitated for a long time before saying softly, "Yeeess....." 

My face fell, she saw my expression and said, "But not if you won't join us." Then turning to Gillian said. "I'm sorry Jilly, I can't go if Neil doesn't want to." 

Relief began to infuse me, but she ruined the moment when she turned back to me and asked pleadingly, "Can she stay with us this weekend?"

"She's your friend," I said and then looked her straight in the eyes hoping that what I meant. "And as a friend she's welcome to stay." 

Karen nodded in understanding and then rose up to her knees to kiss me. 

It had been a long and traumatic day. The beers I'd drunk earlier began to tell. I stifled a yawn and said, "I'm sorry but I'm tired and I need to going to bed. I have a lecture and a couple of tutorials in the morning. I should be home early afternoon. What are your plans?" 

"I have to go into the office tomorrow, I called in sick today and put off a couple of meetings that I'll need to deal with. I should be home at the usual time." 

"And what do you want to do?" I asked Gillian. 

"If you are ok with it I'd like to stay the weekend. I'll go back to London in the morning and deal with my publicist and agent. I can be back a bit after six if that's ok?" 

This time, I couldn't stifle the yawn. "That's fine. Sorry, I really need my bed, I'm going up. Gillian, Karen can show you the spare room." 

"I need to borrow a tee-shirt or something to sleep in. Karen have you got something I could use?"

"Of course. Neil, I'll lock up and see Jilly's got everything she needs. I won't be a few minutes," she stressed.

I nodded gratefully and headed upstairs. I undressed and had a quick shower and then lay down on the bed, our bed I reminded myself. I could smell Karen's scent on her pillow. I sighed, how close was I to losing her I wondered. Gillian's presence seemed to be a catalyst, reawakening her hidden sexuality. She still professed to love me and only me. But some of her recent words and actions made me wonder.

Unbidden, tears formed and began trickling down my face. I don't think I would survive if she left me. She'd woven her psyche so tightly into mine that it would tear me apart.

She must have undressed in the bathroom and entered the bedroom so quietly I wasn't aware of her presence until the bed shook as she lay down beside me and wrapped her arms around me.

"Please Neil believe in me," she whispered. "I couldn't live with the thought that I'd lost you." 

I rolled over to face her and her eyes widened when she saw my tear-stained cheeks.

Her voice caught in her throat and tears appeared in her eyes. She murmured, "Please tell me I haven't lost you, I can't imagine my life without you."

I gently ran a finger down the side of her face. "You're not going to lose me love, but I scared I'm losing you. I get the impression you aren't happy at the moment." 

She moved closer, her soft skin pressing against me. Her hand caressed my back. "I'm never going to leave you," she said. "Jilly's made me all confused. I never stopped having feelings for her, but until last week she was just a happy time in my life that I'd thought I'd grown out of." 

"So where do we go from here?" I asked. 

"There's nowhere to go. I'd like to stay in contact with her but as a friend rather than a lover." 




The Weekend Pt. 02



She reached behind her neck and unclasped the chain the locket hung from. She placed it in my hand. 

"Open it, please." 

I opened the locket and saw that she'd managed to scratch a big X through both inscriptions. 

She said, "There is no 'free pass' anymore. I don't want it, I want to be faithful just like you've been to me all these years." 

"As much as I'm happy to hear that, are you really sure you want to deny that part of your life. Honestly, if I'd said yes to the weekend what would you have done with Gillian?" 

"I'm not sure, remember I thought we were going to stay in her hotel suite in London. But I guess that at some point we'd have slept together." 

"And were you looking forward to sleeping with her? Which for the record is not just 'stretching the boundaries of our fidelity' as you so delicately put it. It was smashing them completely." 

She gave me a sheepish grin, "You're right. I knew that you'd always thought I'd be sleeping with a man when you gave me this. I decided that if I slept with Gillian, I wasn't entirely unfaithful to you. And yes I suppose I was looking forward to it. Even if it was just for a brief moment, to rekindling those sensations that I used to feel from a woman's touch."

"Do you miss it that much?" 

"I don't know, I do know that you completely satisfy me. But remember for four, almost five years I'd only had female lovers. Men didn't interest me at all. Jilly and I were a couple for most of that time, but she was always trying to interest me in taking other lovers." 

"Anybody I might know?" 

"Cindy and Jill and do you remember Pauline." I grimace in recollection of her.

"Jilly always was the more adventurous one. She was intrigued by the thought of bringing new lovers into our relationship, even if it worried me. She even thought of us sharing a man on one occasion. I wanted unconditional love, I suppose that's why I fell for you so hard when I met you, even if you were the wrong gender."

"Why me, you never really explained what you saw in me that first time?" 

"You caught me, literally caught me if you remember when I was feeling unloved. Jilly had gone to Paris a couple of weeks earlier and was having a whale of a time. She'd wasted no time in finding a female friend to share her bed with. I'd taken the Eurostar the weekend before to surprise her. She was staying at a student hostel and they were a bit slack about giving out keys. I let myself into her room and I found her in bed with another woman. They were so busy they never saw me standing in the doorway. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I just turned around and managed to make my way back to the station and catch the next train back." 

While she'd been talking our hands had been gently caressing each other and her nipples had hardened and my cock was twitching. I slid a hand down her body and she parted her legs then clamped them tight around my hand. 

"Wait please," she begged, "I want to finish telling you about the me you didn't know about," I replied with a kiss and she murmured thank you. 

"I'd run to Cindy when I got back and she'd helped me move my stuff out of the bedsit and into their spare room. They had an extra ticket for the Ball and had dragged me along. I fell and this wonderful man caught me. He kissed me and it was like I'd been electrocuted. You were the first man whose touch affected me. We sat by the river watching the sun rise all I could think was 'God I hope he asks me out again'." 

"You have no idea how confused I was when I got back to the flat. I was gay and yet all I wanted to do was make love to you. Cindy and Jill listened to my tirade and I ended up in bed with Cindy." 

I grinned, "You realise that's every red-blooded male's fantasy." 

She gave me a playful punch. "Is it your fantasy?" 

I rubbed my arm, "Only if you feature in it beautiful."

She tenderly kissed my arm where she'd punched me. "And you wonder if I love you. Cindy is a very thoughtful lover and it was just what I needed at that moment. I almost cancelled our next date, but just the sound of your voice on the phone was enough to get my heart racing." 

I remembered that date. She'd been very distant and quiet for the first hour or so. I'd been so scared that she was no longer interested in me. I recall that we left the restaurant fairly early and took a walk down by the river. She kept her hands in her coat pockets then suddenly she'd put her arms around me and pulled me into a long deep kiss.

"I'd been making love to Cindy that afternoon and I'd convinced myself that you were a bad idea. I was so quiet because my brain was telling me I was gay. Yet my body was screaming at me to take hold of you and make you fuck me."

"I'm glad you gave in to your baser instincts!" 

"I did didn't I, and I've never regretted it." 

"Do you ever regret your decision to marry me?"

She pulled me close, "Never, it was the best decision of my life and I've never regretted it." She sighed happily as I dropped my head and sucked a nipple into my mouth.

"Now will you put your gorgeous cock to work and fuck me?" 

She relaxed her hold on my hand and lifted her leg resting it on me. My finger traced the line of her slit and her pussy lips were slick with evidence of her arousal. 

I said trying to sound pitiful, "Is that all I am to you, a hard cock for you to use?" I slid two fingers into her soft velvety passage. 

She gasped and bit my shoulder. "Fuck yeess. Christ, you have always been so much more that a cock." She whimpered as I found her G-spot, her hand tightening around my shaft. 

She pushed me onto my back. "I said I need your cock." She stroked my rampant member as he pointed skyward, a clear drop of pre-cum forming at the tip. She took the drop on her finger and licked it, sighing in satisfaction. She continued to writhe as my fingertips carried caressing her G-spot. 

"Oh God you glorious bastard," she hissed through gritted teeth. She pulled away from me and groaned as my fingers slid out. She rose above me and grasping my shaft, guided me into the warmth of her waiting passage. She sank down my length in one steady, deliberate motion.

I groaned as her warmth enveloped me in its tight embrace. She growled as she ground her clit into my pubis and then she began a slow, deliberate rise and fall. My hands supported her arse, caressing her flexing arse cheeks. Her eyes were fixed on mine and shone with a mixture of love and lust. She bent forward and rested her forehead on mine, all the time sliding up and down my throbbing cock. 

She whispered so softly I could barely hear her, "I love you, Neil, don't ever leave me." My mouth found hers and I replied with a kiss. 

She started making little squeaking sounds each time she sank down my cock. A clear signal to me that she was getting close. I took a hand and squeezed and pulled on her nipple and that pushed her over the edge. She cried out and her whole body shook as she came. She dropped one last time and whimpered as my hard cock seemed to swell as I started the few thrusts into her that I needed to orgasm. 

Her fingers were digging into my shoulders as I pumped my cum into her, triggering another orgasm from her. She fell forward, I was still hard and we stayed linked. Her hot sticky flesh pressed down on me as she struggled to get her breath back.

"You are so beautiful," I murmured. 

She kissed me savagely, biting my lip, pulling it out. She let go and said, "You are mine, all mine!" 

She settled down on me and then looked at me hopefully, "Can I stay here on top of you. I feel so secure wrapped up in your arms."

I caressed her back and said, "Ok, but the moment you start snoring you're on your own love." 

She giggled softly and I felt the tension in her body relax. She nuzzled the side of my neck and gave me a kiss. Her breathing slowed and she fell asleep. To be honest, it wasn't the most comfortable position for me but I knew how much comfort she got from sleeping like this so it made me happy too. 

As I lay there waiting for sleep to overcome me, my mind was racing. Every piece of evidence said that she loved me. But I sensed that deep down there was still a need in her for a female lover. She'd managed to bury this need so deeply, and keep it a secret from me. So that when it was triggered by Gillian, her decision was to try and use her free pass. I suspect she thought that she could fulfil her need and hopefully keep her sexual past from me. 

I love my wife, she is the reason I live for every day and I'm not sure I could share her. But should I cage her like a bird, never to fly free. Never to enjoy what was obviously an important part of her life, could I live with myself under those circumstances? But also, could I accept the risk that having re-tasted the forbidden fruit I could lose her. I fell asleep no closer to a decision. 





The Weekend Pt. 02



Bugger, I thought. I wish she'd told me earlier. My feeling of unease didn't go away so after a few minutes I texted her.

'Lambs in the oven. Will be ready @ 7:30 latest. U sure you'll be here by then? Can try and delay if you're going to be late. Need a number for Gillian to let her know we are running late.'

I waited but got no reply so fifteen minutes later I called her. I got her voice mail box straight away. I looked at my phone in surprise, I couldn't remember a time when she hadn't answered me within half a dozen rings. I left a quick message asking her to confirm what time she would get back. 

I don't know why but then I decided to call Janice her assistant. A strange voice answered. I was surprised when she said that Karen wasn't in the office and she didn't know when she'd be back, but she'd take a message. I asked her to get a message to her saying she needed to call me urgently. 

"And who should I tell her to call," she said offhandedly. 

"Her husband, she knows the number." 

There was a gasp and then for a moment there was silence from her end. "Ohh," and then she paused again, finally saying, "Mr den Jong, I thought you knew, she had a meeting in London with a client. We're not expecting her back today." 

I hung up and stared blankly at my glass of wine. What the fuck was going on. I thought about the message she'd left me. 'Swamped in office. Got a late meeting that's gonna overrun'. I left her a second message on her voice mail. 

"Just where the hell are you because apparently you're not in your office. I don't like being lied to. Call me back now!" 

I sent a similar text message and sat back. An hour and a half later I was still sitting there. The bottle of wine was empty and my phone was silent. The aroma of roasting lamb stirred me into action. I felt I was on autopilot as I checked the food and prepared the couscous. 

Seven o'clock rolled around and still there as no sight or sound from either of them. I decided to leave another message. 

"Karen, where the fuck are you? You weren't in your office this afternoon and I'm getting worried. You need to call me." 

Eight o'clock and I sat staring at the food growing cold on the table. By now my mind was numb. I couldn't work out what was going on. I served myself a plate, but all I did was push the food around, then I had a horrific thought. 

I scrabbled for my laptop and checked out the local traffic news. I breathed a sigh of relief when there were no major accidents reported. Then I realise I'd almost hoped that an accident was the reason she was so late because otherwise... 

I called the Dorchester and tried in vain to get put through to Gillian's suite. They wouldn't even admit she was a guest, let alone take a message. 

I left several more messages for Karen. The tone grew more frantic and aggressive with each one.

Nine o'clock and I was beginning to suspect that my marriage was over. I needed some fresh air and I walked out of the cottage and made my way across the village green. I sat down on the bench by the cricket pavilion and for a long while, I sat gazing at the night sky. There was no moon and the stars flickered brightly. 

I began to believe that there was only one conclusion I could come to. At some point, she'd decided to fulfil her desire and spend the weekend with Gillian. Perversely I hoped it had been a decision she'd made during the day. Because otherwise all the sex and loving last night and this morning had been an act and that would hurt even more. 

Finally, as the falling dew began chilling my bones, I stood and hesitated for a few moments, full of indecision. Before slowly making my way into the pub. For late on a Friday night it was rather quiet. I saw Philip by the bar and he motioned me over. I wasn't interested in talking so shook my head and found an armchair by the unlit fire. I sipped at the beer I couldn't recall ordering.

I felt a presence beside me and looked up to see Carol watching me intently. 

"What's up love? You look so solemn." 

I indicated the seat beside me and she sat down. "I think that Karen's left me," I said.

"What!" 

"I said I think she's left me, Carol." 

"Don't be daft Son, she loves you. There's no way she'd ever leave you." 

"I'm not so sure, I'm not the only person she loves." 

Carol's mouth opened, but she uttered no words. 

Oh what the fuck I thought, in for a penny, in for a pound. "On Wednesday, she told me she wanted to go away for the weekend with her lover. You met her last night." 

"Lover...her!....You....you mean Gillian Faith?" 

I nodded, "Yah, apparently they were lovers at university, and it looks like they've decided to reconnect. I just don't understand it, Carol. This morning I was sure she loved me. Now I've no idea who or where she is..." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued 

Please don't forget to vote. 

Andyhm



The Weekend Pt. 02



Barbara hesitated for a few awkward moments. Contemplating what the rewards might be; what the consequences might be. Finally, she took a deep breath, grinned bashfully at her close friend and chuckled, "Bugger it. Why the hell not. Let's go for it..." 

After signing her up for an initial three months membership on Gerald's favourite site, FriendsWithBenefits.com, the giggling pair set about sorting out an online profile for her. They settled on a screen name of 'HornyCougar44', which was surprisingly available, and began typing in her details. Deciding to put her true age, but leave her birth-date out, they then had to come up with something that would be appealing to the type of young man she was looking for. Eventually they agreed on an advertisement with the type of wording she felt expressed her desires and needs without being too smutty. 

HornyCougar44 

Attractive, fit and sexy, 44yrs old widow. WLTM young and healthy men for NSA sex. Not looking for a relationship, just uninhibited fun. 20 to 30 years old (maybe a little younger, but no older) Should be over 6' tall, (or very close)Muscular, good-looking, clean and with GSOH. Average sized appendages only (no freaks or monsters) 

SAFE SEX IS A MUST. 

Safe sex. A shiver had gone through her when Gerald mentioned that phrase. Bloody hell she'd been so lucky with young James that first time. She hadn't had sex for nearly five years before that night, and at the time, had never even considered the consequences of having a young, virile stud emptying his potent seed deep inside her unprotected womb. Although she'd been taking the pill when they were married, birth control was about the last thing on her shattered mind after David had been so tragically killed. Fortunately she did have the presence of mind the day after her unexpected sexual romp to rush down to the chemist and purchase the 'morning after' pill in time to prevent a disastrous aftermath occurring. Even so, she was absolutely overjoyed and relieved a couple of weeks later when one of her increasingly less-predictable 'monthlies' eventually kicked in. 

At Gerald's suggestion, in addition to the advertisement they'd also selected a profile picture showing a view of her from the rear wearing a slinky black cocktail dress that accentuated her long legs and gorgeous bottom. A photo that, at her insistence, she wouldn't be recognisable in even if anyone who knew her stumbled across it. 

"Okay... Are you sure that is what you want to say?" Gerald asked, finger poised over the <enter> button on the keyboard. 

Barbara took a huge sigh, suddenly feeling tense and jittery. "Yes, go for it." She murmured quietly after a few moments, scrunching her eyes closed in a nervous grimace as she heard him press the key. 

They then logged onto the site with Gerald's user name and found her advert in the 'New members' section 

"Oh my God!... I've done it. It's out there... God I'm such a slut..." Barbara exclaimed, staring in disbelief at her details on the screen, before breaking out into an intoxicated giggle "Mind you, even if I do say so myself, my arse looks absolutely frigging gorgeous." 

"Welcome to my world, you horny little hussy." Gerald laughed, raising his glass in a silent toast. 

"So what happens now?" she asked nervously. 

"Well... You can either wait and see if anyone wants to get in touch with you... Or, now you have a profile and login, you can have a proper look at the advertisers and get in touch with any of them that take your fancy. It's up to you." 

"Oh I don't know if I'm ready for that yet, maybe I'll just wait and see."Barbara giggled, taking a large gulp of wine. "What would you do?" 

"Me? Oh I'd be contacting all the men with big cocks who I fancied." he laughed, "But you?... Well I think probably you should wait and see." 

"Yes, I do too. I'd be far too nervous to contact anyone myself... Will you help me? You know, if someone does contact me." She mumbled, her voice trembling as the realisation of what she was about to commit to overwhelmed her. 

Gerald sensed his close friend was having serious doubts, now she had taken the plunge and decided to join something that was completely alien to her. He reached for her and hugged her tightly. "Of course I will my little treasure. I feel responsible for you, seeing as I encouraged you to go for it so much. Anything you want or need, I'm there for you." 

Barbara snuggled close to her friend. She felt much better about proceeding now that he had assured her he would be supporting her all the way. Fascinated, she watched the screen cursor blinking at them as it poised over her details, "Just don't tell anyone. Okay?" she muttered, filled with trepidation as to what the future held for her... 

* * * 

Chapter 3 

Three weeks later, Barbara had received over 30 replies to her ad. Most of which she was able to reject out of hand without any help from her friend due to their obvious unsuitability. Some were too old. Many were too crude for her to get past the foul language and disgusting innuendo contained in their messages - and some of them were just too plain creepy to consider. After weeding out the dross, she was left with just three possibles and asked Gerald to come round and help her decide. 

"Mmmmm, he's nice... I don't fancy him... And don't touch him with a bargepole. He's a conman who's well known on the site." 

"Well that didn't take long, did it?" Barbara laughed, happy that her friend had picked out the same one she had preferred herself. "So now what?" 

"Firstly, we need to set up an e-mail address for you to use just for this site, send him a message telling him you're interested and ask for his phone number. Then we give him a ring and you chat with him. See if there's any spark between you..." 

"Can we do that now? I don't want to lose my nerve and bottle it... God, I'm so horny." 

"You sex-mad old hussy!" Gerald laughed, delighted that she was so keen to continue. 

10 minutes later, Barbara was apprehensively sat with her mobile phone in her hand. Her hands were visibly shaking with nerves as she prepared to make the call that could possibly change her life... 

* * * 

To her great relief, despite the fact that Gerald was listening to every word, and probably much to do with the amount of alcohol she'd consumed, Barbara soon felt at ease talking to the young man. After a few hesitant minutes at the beginning of their conversation, they began exchanging details about themselves. Confidently introducing himself as Jake, he'd informed her he was a 24year old student about to start his second year at university studying for a degree in history and politics. He'd entered university later than normal after taking a several years out from education and working hard to earn enough money to enable him to not have to depend too much on his parents or crippling student loans. Playfully assuring her he was far too young and busy to get into a serious relationship, he confessed that he'd always enjoyed the company of 'older' women much more than girls his own age who, in his opinion, were much too complicated and clingy. And anyway, he mocked, older women had lived much more of the history he was studying. 

As she relaxed more, the conversation became increasingly flirtatious, with the sexual innuendos becoming more and more bawdy. He proudly divulged that he'd had several so-called meets with ladies of various ages and had particularly enjoyed making love to women old enough to be his mother. Sounding self-confident without being arrogant, he casually informed her that the oldest he'd had was actually aged 62, a friend of his grandma who was as horny as fuck and had taught him everything she knew about how to satisfy women of any age. Unusually for her, Barbara had not found his coarse language offensive - not deliberately choosing to ignore it, but actually not really noticing it. After joking about him obviously having an Oedipus complex, Barbara had hesitantly admitted that the one experience she'd had with a much younger man had given her the desire for more of the same, embarrassingly confessing under his gentle prompting, that she had had more orgasms that weekend than over the previous 5 years combined. 

Eventually, after almost half an hour of increasingly sexually-charged chat, Gerald attracted her attention and whispered to her to ask Jake for a recent photograph. They were both delighted a few minutes later to receive an e-mail attachment containing a picture of an extremely handsome young man wearing a tight white t-shirt and almost as tight jeans. He was sat astride a large, powerful-looking motorbike, with his thighs spread provocatively exposing a prominent bulge encased by faded denim. The thrilled, hopeful Cougar gasped as she felt a lustful surge of excitement shoot through her damp loins. "My God, he looks like someone who should be on the cover of one of my favourite romantic novels." The very impressed Barbara mused lustfully, openly admiring the view of him smiling seductively directly into the camera. She grinned happily as she saw Gerald give her a thumbs-up and mouthed 'Wow' to her... 

While she complimented Jake on the photo, Gerald took the laptop from her and searched amongst the photos of her they'd decided she was potentially prepared to exchange. Before she had the chance to protest, her friend had sent a picture of her on the beach taken the previous summer which showed her full-frontal and wearing a reasonably tiny, white bikini that perfectly showcased her long legs, large breasts and gorgeous dark tan. 

Seconds later, she heard Jake give a sharp intake of breath before he whispered, "WOW!... I had no idea... You're absolutely gorgeous...So sexy... Are you really 44?... Fucking unbelievable..." 

Barbara was delighted with his response. He really did sound nice, she decided. 

"Well thank you kind sir, flattery will get you everywhere." She giggled. 

"Oh God. I do hope so." He laughed back, "Just a sec..." 

A few seconds later, her laptop pinged the notification of a new e-mail arriving. 

"Fucking hell fire... Oh my God he's gorgeous." Gerald exclaimed, looking over her shoulder at the picture of a full-frontal, naked Jake sporting a very impressive erect penis that had just the hint of an upward curve as it pointed proudly toward his chest. 

"GERALD!... Go away...Please." She pleaded, laughing and shoving her friend firmly along the sofa away from her, "You're embarrassing me." 

"Who's that with you? Your husband? Are you married?... I thought you said you were a widow." She heard an obviously disturbed Jake say firmly in her ear. 

I'm not...I mean, I am... A widow I mean. That is my best friend Gerald, but don't worry, he's as gay as they come. He's just here helping me. This IS my first time you know... Trying to find a date, I mean." Barbara nearly choked as she tried to stifle the snort of laughter about to exit her mouth, immediately realising how that must sound to a one hundred percent heterosexual young man. 

"Oh, okay... Just so you know, I'm not into threesomes or anything like that... Or another man in any way." Jake replied, nervousness apparent in his voice for the first time. 

Barbara couldn't help herself, laughing loudly as the image of Gerald pushing her out of the way to get at Jake's magnificent body flashed across her mind. "No, me neither. Don't worry, I'll keep him WELL away from you." 

They both burst into peals of laughter as they heard Gerald shout, "Damn spoilsports..." from across the living room where he had retreated to. 

After that, it became very easy for the two potential lovers to chat away to one another. They carried on telling each other about themselves. Barbara surprised, even shocked, herself as he smoothly persuaded her to tell him all about her lack of experience with men; what her fantasies were; what she hoped to get out of a sexual liaison with a stranger. All things she wouldn't dream of talking to even her closest friends about, but was somehow relaxed enough to confide in him, a virtual stranger. Eventually, she felt safe and comfortable enough with him for them to agree to meet the following Saturday night with the sole purpose of them having dirty, uninhibited sex with each other. A few minutes later, they both hung up simultaneously leaving an air of sexual tension between them that they could almost taste. 

For the first time, she noticed it was well after midnight They had been talking for almost three hours, their conversation turning her on so much she was as horny and wet as she could ever remember. Gerald had disappeared into her spare bedroom and settled down for the night, so she quickly locked everything up and was almost running as she retreated to her own room without even having a wash. Tearing her clothes off and throwing them untidily on the floor, she dived onto her bed completely naked, frantically scrambling around in her bedside drawer. Her hand thankfully soon found what she was searching for and she laid back, exposing her soaking sex as she urgently spread her legs, desperate to keep a date with her battery-packed plastic friend and relieve the warm, swampy, feeling at the junction of her thighs that had completely soaked her silk panties. 

Over the next forty minutes or so, Barbara unselfconsciously moaned and screamed her way to several magnificently satisfying orgasms, totally oblivious to the fact her best friend lay a matter of feet from her in the next room and would be able to hear every single word and sound as she satisfied her lust. With the mood she was in, the sexual need driving her on, even if she had remembered Gerald's close proximity, it wouldn't have made any difference. Excited beyond measure, she was so horny her pussy's natural juices were dripping down her tensed thighs. So turned-on and lustful, her hips were rising fiercely to meet her invading plastic lover; clamping and grasping at him like a sex-starved harlot. So full of lust. So passionate. So intense - and all because of a handsome young boy she hadn't even met yet... 

* * * 

Chapter 4 

Barbara couldn't remember ever feeling as nervous as she felt getting herself ready that evening. Her hands were shaking so much she was having terrible difficulty trying to apply her make-up and lipstick. She'd gone through her complete wardrobe at least three times trying to decide what to wear, finally deciding on a thin, red shift dress that wasn't too low-cut and exposed just enough thigh to be interesting. No underwear. "What would be the point?" She'd argued with herself after trying on most of her matching sets before, at the last minute, deciding on wearing ordinary cotton panties and taking them off in the car when she arrived at the hotel "If only to stop myself soaking the back of my dress on the drive over there." She'd giggled, self-consciously aware of the warm, slick liquid constantly dribbling from the lips of her tightly-trimmed vagina. Finally, after taking even longer to dress herself than on her wedding day all those years ago, she put on her favourite black Chanel jacket over the red dress and set off on her journey. A trip of just an hour's nervous, impatient drive to their meeting place and her well organised date with depravity. 

When they'd been chatting earlier in the week, they two intended lovers had happily discovered they only lived about 50 miles apart and Jake had readily agreed he would be happy to meet her in a nice hotel she knew approximately half-way between them. Although she'd felt it was up to her, he'd insisted on going halves on the hotel bill, assuring her that, although he was a student, he'd saved enough money before starting his latest course that it wasn't a problem. Consequently, a little after 7pm, and just a few minutes late, Barbara's shiny black Mini pulled into the virtually empty car-park of the remote country-house hotel she'd picked out as the venue for her prospective sexual debasement. Giggling nervously, she raised her bottom from the seat and awkwardly tugged her soaked panties down her legs, blushing slightly as she felt their wetness rubbing against her smooth thighs. After automatically checking her lipstick in the car's rear-view mirror, the trembling first-time Cougar managed to extract her long legs from the low car, hopefully without showing too much of her 'secret place' to the world. She heard an involuntary gasp escape from her mouth as she caught a sudden whiff of her arousal rising from between her spread thighs, "Oh my God!... I smell like a fucking bitch on heat." she grimaced, blushing furiously and rapidly smoothing her thin dress back down her firm thighs. 

Carrying her small overnight bag containing everything she would need tomorrow morning and after taking several long, deep, breaths in a futile attempt to calm her ever-increasing apprehension, Barbara Henson, 44 year old, horny mother and widow, walked elegantly up the few steps and into the refuge of the thankfully quiet hotel reception. 

* * * 

"Barbara? My God you're even better looking in the flesh." 

Barbara turned, just in time to catch a glimpse of his handsome features before he closed his lips onto hers and gave her a sensual, tongue-probing kiss that immediately sent shivers through her whole body, dissipating all her previous nervous tension and erecting her nipples in such a manner they could have been used as clothes pegs in the hotel cloakroom. 

"Jake? At least I hope you're Jake." The abashed older woman babbled, giggling girlishly and half-heartedly attempting to free herself from his grasp. 

"That's me. Fuck, I'm so happy to meet you. I've already checked into the room so shall we go straight up?" 

Barbara gulped, overwhelmed by her prospective young lover's presumptuous and uninhibited brashness. She could only nod her head in agreement, not having the capability, or even the desire, to argue or protest at his forwardness. 

Grabbing her slim hand in his much larger one and taking her bag from her grasp with his other one, her soon-to-be sexual partner - a virtual stranger, and if that wasn't outlandish enough, a man young enough to be her son - confidently led her toward the lift doors. Barbara couldn't help noticing the envious, lustful smile on the face of the young hotel receptionist as they passed her desk, feeling herself colouring up and smiling bashfully as the teenage girl brazenly winked at her. 

"Will you be requiring dinner this evening sir?" The young girl almost shouted after them, her face wreathed in a knowing smile. 

"Maybe later." Jake shamelessly replied, grinning at the cheeky girl and hugging the compliant Barbara to him in a blatant display of sexual control. "Much, much later." 

Feeling the lift doors closing behind her, the older woman felt helpless with embarrassed discomfort, and yet, almost faint with desire as her young beau turned her gently toward him. She could feel her hard nipples trying to burst through their thin covering, feel her vagina flooding with anticipation of what it was about to experience. Without another word to her, Jake gently pulled her head back by her hair and once again kissed her deeply, his tongue probing hers and receiving the immediate response of her welcoming him to the confines of her warm, receptive mouth. 

They broke apart as the lift reached their floor. Barbara struggled to breathe, all feelings of angst and doubt leaving her, lost in the overwhelming sensuality of her situation. How did he know? What had she confided to him during their phone chat that she didn't remember? Did he just naturally sense what she liked? To have a man in total control and use her for his satisfaction. Not all the time. Sometimes slow, sensuous loving was what turned her on, but in times like this? He seemed to have it just right. Exciting her to the point of submission with his demanding, overpowering presence. 




The Weekend Pt. 02



Almost running down the corridor, the two eager lovers reached their room in a matter of seconds before impatiently unlocking the door and stumbling into the dimly-lit love-nest. He gripped her shoulders tightly and pulled her to him, pressing his already erect phallus against her welcoming groin and kissing her ardently as he pulled her jacket off her and tossed it carelessly on the floor. 

"Oh my God." Barbara gasped breathlessly, forcing herself even tighter against his hardness. 

Jake roughly pushed her away, turning her around so she had her back to him and hastily pulling the zipper of her dress all the way down. She hungrily watched their reflection in the large wall mirror opposite them, leaning back into him as he bent and kissed her neck. Impatiently, he slid the dress straps from her shoulders and allowed the soft garment to glide off her smooth skin. Briefly, it caught on her erect nipples before it sensually fluttered to the floor, gathering in a crumpled heap around her high-heeled shoes and exposing her mature nakedness to his lust-filled gaze. 

"Oh Fuckkkk..." He whispered in her ear, "You're completely naked... Absolutely fucking gorgeous!." 

She felt somehow proud of herself for not wearing underwear, smiling as she observed him avidly watching their reflection as he pushed her head down toward the dressing table. Submissively, she reached out to support herself with both hands, at the same time sticking her naked bottom out for his inspection. His left hand pushed its way between her legs, spreading them wider before sliding up her thighs and slipping several fingers into her dripping sex. Over her wanton moan, she barely heard the sound of his trouser zip being lowered. A couple of seconds later, she felt the hard, latex-clad tip his penis slide against her pouting lower lips after his fingers had withdrawn from her. Suddenly he found his target, and with one smooth, determined push enclosed his throbbing hardness deep into her tight, clasping womanhood. 

"Argghhhh... YES!." Her scream of anguished pleasure echoed around the hotel suite, "Ohhhh FUCK..." 

Vigorously, even a little roughly, he began thrusting himself in and out of her; quickly increasing his rutting rhythm until he was unrelentingly pounded their loins together. An obscene, wet, slapping noise reverberated around the room, almost drowning out their mutual moans of sexual gratification. Within only a couple of minutes, both watching their erotic reflection and gazing lustfully into each other's eyes, he grunted loudly and emptied his latex-protected hot seed deep inside her. Feeling him pulsing within her like that, tipped her over the edge too, causing her to orgasm almost simultaneously with him in a sensuous mutual climax. 

Gasping for breath, her nude body glistening sexily with perspiration, she felt him slip from her and watched him grin cheekily at her; almost insolently staring into her eyes through the mirror. Still fully dressed, and with his slowly softening penis hanging obscenely from the front of his jeans, he stepped back away from her and sat back on the bed. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw him peel the wet condom off him, marvelling at the amount of thick, off-white fluid filling the end of the latex. She grinned coquettishly at him then. Watched him tie a knot in the stretched contraceptive and toss it nonchalantly into the convenient waste bin. 

"Wow!... Well now we've got that over with, we can settle down and fuck properly." He chuckled boldly, winking audaciously at her. 

Stiffly, she stood and straightened her back, grimacing as the energetic sex in an uncomfortable position mockingly reminded her that she did, after all, have the body of a 44 year old despite her youthful looks. Turning to face him and seeing him immodestly displayed like that, she couldn't help but laugh at his youthful shamelessness. 

"I would certainly hope that wasn't your best effort. You promised me much better than a two minute quicky." She jokingly teased him, any nerves she had ever felt at meeting and having sex with a stranger completely forgotten. 

"Yes... Well I knew you'd be a bit apprehensive, this being your first meet and everything, so I just thought I'd get rid of any doubts you had before you had a chance to change your mind." 

"Well it sure as hell worked," She laughed, dropping to her knees in front of him, "Now let's get you naked and see if you're as good as you promised." 

Pushing him back so he was laying flat on the bed, she unhesitatingly took his still semi-erect cock into her warm mouth and began tugging his tight jeans down his legs, all the while holding his gaze and grinning sexily into to his admiring eyes... 

* * * 

Chapter 5 

Driving home the following afternoon, Barbara couldn't prevent a self-satisfied grin from spreading all over her flushed face. Perhaps fortunately, the traffic was sparse, even for a Sunday afternoon. Fortunate in that the happy, but extremely tired, new Cougar was finding it immensely difficult to concentrate on the road. Her long, black hair streamed out behind her in the breeze coming through the wide-open windows. Loudly accompanying the songs on the radio, her terrible, off-key voice filled the small car before flying out into the glorious sunshine that totally matched the joyful memories of her sex-filled escapades over the previous 24 hours. 

She felt herself blushing as she thought about some of the naughty, even downright dirty, things her and her new lover had done together. Chuckling loudly in the privacy of her car, she looked back fondly at how he had taken her and used her body for their mutual pleasure. Despite her being much older, he had far more experience than her when it came to the actual mechanics of sex. His wonderful technique, matched with his youth and exuberance, had conquered any misgivings and reluctance she may have initially had with regard to what she used to think of as sexual debauchery. 

Memories of their time together continued to distract her from her driving, different arousing flashbacks flying across her mind and keeping her in a sensual state of arousal. She giggled loudly, reflecting on how, just an hour or so before, they'd even indulged in oral sex in a pub car-park where they could have been discovered at any time. After they had eaten a lovely Sunday lunch, and before they went their separate ways home, a gentle goodbye kiss had rapidly turned into a sex-fuelled swapping of writhing tongues leading to Barbara shamelessly sitting in her car as Jake stood in front of her, thrusting his erect manhood in and out of her mouth. She'd sucked him eagerly until he'd shot an impressive amount of his hot sperm down her throat - very impressive considering how many times he'd already orgasmed over the previous 20 hours, then obscenely swirled his seed around her mouth before grinning mischievously at him and swallowing his deposit like a well-well paid whore. 

As she drove along, thinking about how much her life had changed recently, Barbara found herself fondly looking back on her marriage to her wonderful husband David. She found herself able to lovingly reminisce about him without any sadness in her heart for about the first time since she'd lost him. She was even able to compare him sexually to the two younger lovers she had now had in the last few weeks without any accompanying guilt: Compare his warm, tender, gentle love-making to their more urgent, vigorous fucking. 'Fucking' - a word she used to hate but now, after what she'd recently experienced, had come to understand the true meaning of. Totally different to the act of making love, the naughty word seemed to fully describe what she'd done with her two young cubs. 

She couldn't help comparing her two lovers too. James' vigorous, urgent straight-forward fucking in a few different positions, to Jake's more varied, even kinky, desires. He'd totally taken control of her, taken her to places she never knew existed. She felt her sex moistening again as she thought back to how he'd made her kneel with her bottom in the air while he used his squirming tongue to probe her most secret place. An act just a few short weeks ago she would have found dirty and utterly repulsive. Last night though, caught up in the moment, it had thrilled her so much she actually massaged her own clitoris until she collapsed before him in a screaming orgasm as he inserted his tongue deep into her anus and fucked that naughty place with its squirming roughness. Inevitably, after that electrifying experience, she had allowed him to gently take her delicate virgin bottom, once again climaxing as he emptied his seed deep into her clasping rear hole whist simultaneously fingering her pussy and massaging her throbbing clitoris. 

* * * 

Desperately needing a pee, Barbara decided to stop at a service station and have a coffee while she was there. Sat alone in the cafeteria, absent-mindedly staring out of the window, anyone who happened to look at her must have wondered what the hell it was that was causing the beautiful middle-aged woman to grin like a lunatic as she sat alone with a simple mug of mediocre coffee. She knew of course. Daydreaming once again about last night, she was remembering how they'd still been awake at 2:30am and absolutely starving hungry. Fortunately, being rated a 4 star, the hotel had a 24 hour room service menu enabling the two temporarily sated lovers to order club sandwiches and a couple of beers to be delivered to their room as soon as possible. 

Alone and horny, Barbara once again felt herself blushing at the memory of the night porter insisting on bringing his trolley into their room and discovering her sat up in bed, obviously naked and even more obviously just been fucked. Her large breasts, with their prominently erect nipples, had remained fully on view all the time the awestruck elderly bellhop was in the room, openly staring at her exposed flesh while her amused young lover was stifling his laughter and grinning evilly behind the obviously impressed old man. Despite all her futile attempts to cover what she could with a duvet that was mostly draped on the floor, she possibly even gave them both a flash of her neatly trimmed pussy as her legs thrashed about during her abortive struggle conceal her nudity. 

The once-naive, newly-awakened, sensual woman in her wasn't actually feeling ashamed, or even just a little embarrassed, about being seen like that - by a stranger, completely naked and with all of her voluptuous chest on open display. Instead, sitting in a public restaurant, amongst unsuspecting families and fellow travellers, she was feeling warm and wet between her legs as she secretly recalled the wicked thrill she'd enjoyed while flaunting herself. That was another turn-on that was a new experience for her, that exhibitionist streak that had never surfaced before. 

Always dressed demurely up to then, her luscious body had invariably been fully covered whenever she was out in public. She'd always refused when David and Emma had repeatedly tried to persuade her to wear shorter skirts and deeper cleavages, preferring to dress more respectably. When they were on holiday, despite loving the sun, she'd constantly refused to join in with the modern trend of going topless when on the beach or round a hotel pool, protesting it wasn't appropriate for a wife and mother of her age. But now she'd involuntarily experienced the stimulating effect of exposing herself to a complete stranger, she was determined to join in with her daughter and anyone else who wore less modest, more revealing clothing; women who automatically discarded their bikini tops and exhibited their womanly charms - Yet another small step in her willing journey from unworldly, wide-eyed, mature widow and mother to being an open-minded, passionate, sexually-charged libertine. 

* * * 

Tempted to go to the rest-room and relieve the increasingly exciting itch in her loins, Barbara, after surreptitiously stroking her aroused sex and reminding herself just how sore she was down there, decided instead to complete her journey home and have a long soak in a warm bath. "Maybe, if I'm still feeling horny afterwards, I'll have a gentle session with my fingers before I go to sleep." She giggled, "But not with Rampant Rabbit... I don't think I could face him after what my pussy went through last night." 

Laughing loudly, much to the surprise of the young family on the next table who obviously thought the beautiful lady had gone completely mad, the newly-qualified Cougar jauntily walked to her car and made her happy way home... 

* * * 

Chapter 6 

Late 2008 to Early August 2010 

Over the next year or more, Barbara learned just how lucky she had been to meet Jake on her first attempt at a casual sexual liaison. 

On their second date, at the same hotel, they had actually taken time out from their sexual frolicking to have dinner in a nice restaurant just down the road from their love-nest. There they had talked animatedly for a good couple of hours. Not in any rush - they obviously knew they would be fucking the rest of the night away - the couple chatted away easily and frankly. She had fully explained her reasons for wanting fun-sex, confirming her desire to fuck, not only him, but other young men too. She justified this by telling him that she wanted to have what her liberated daughter was having and enjoying. That she had been a virgin when she met her late husband and now felt she deserved to catch up on what she had missed out on as a young woman. Not that she regretted marrying her first lover in any way, just that now she was single there was no reason for her to abstain. 

Jake, confirming that he was the thoroughly nice man she'd thought he was when they'd initially talked on the phone, had readily agreed with her, acknowledging her desire to experience other lovers. After all, it was only what he and thousands of others were doing. He had however, insisted on offering her the benefit of his experience as a casual philanderer, giving her a list of what he thought should be the minimum of do's and don'ts. Most importantly, he stressed, always meet in a public place first. Give herself the chance to size the man up before deciding whether or not to fuck him. She had been fortunate with him, he'd joked, but he may well have been a mass murderer or rapist and she had injudiciously allowed him to take her to an empty room in a strange hotel. He went on to explain the various rules he actually imposed on himself before finally emphasising vehemently the need to always use condoms when she was unsure of someone, again pointing out she'd had no idea of whether he'd had one or not the first time he had fucked her over the dressing table. "Little steps." He'd advised her, "Never close your mind to anything. Don't try it if you really don't want to, but never be left regretting NOT trying it." 

Barbara couldn't help being impressed by her young paramour's philosophical attitude toward 'sporting' sex, as he'd laughingly described it. It all made a lot of sense. "Most of this ties in with what Emma tried to explain too," Barbara found herself thinking as she remembered her conversations with her daughter. 

After much more verbal flirting and seductive chat over the next hour, the newly-confirmed 'fuck-buddies' then retired to their hotel room, again much to the amusement and envy of the young receptionist, where it took only a minute or two before they were once more rolling naked on the large bed and duly spent the whole night screwing themselves to a standstill. 

* * * 

In between meeting with Jake regularly, Barbara soon felt confident enough to arrange sex-dates with other men too. Unfortunately, with varying degrees of success. Out of a total of five men she met in the same period she was having her affair with Jake, two never actually got her into bed. One of those turned out to be years older than the photographs he had sent her, and the other smelled so bad she was almost sick as soon as he approached her. Of the other three, only one was anywhere near as good a lover as Jake. The other two had fucked her quickly and inadequately for a few minutes before ejaculating well before she was anywhere near her own orgasm. They'd then disappeared immediately afterwards just as soon as they could throw their clothes back on. The remaining one had actually been quite good, in her admittedly limited experience. He had indeed stayed the night and given her several satisfying orgasms before they'd parted the following day. Unlike with Jake though, she had no intention of meeting this other man again. Truth be told, as he had once cockily pointed out, her young paramour had spoiled her for other, let's say kindly, less competent lovers. 

Barbara quickly became more and more at ease in the company of Jake, eventually feeling comfortable enough to invite him to stay over at her apartment rather than going to the expense of paying for hotels and meals out. Gradually she felt relaxed enough to go out to the local pub with him, inevitably running into old friends of hers and introducing them to her young beau without feeling any embarrassment. It was during one of these pub visits that she'd needed to use the loo and left Jake alone with Gerald and a middle-aged married couple who had been good friends with both Barbara and her late husband. She was washing her hands when the rest-room door opened and two elderly women who she barely knew entered. Out of their sight behind the open door, she couldn't help but overhear what was obviously the back end of a conversation about her. 

"I think it's disgusting. Her husband was such a lovely man too., and there she is flaunting her toy-boy like a whore." 

"Me too. I mean he's half her age. She's old enough to be his mother, for pity's sake." 

Barbara was shocked to say the least. Those women hardly knew her, and yet felt they had the right to comment on her life. How dare they? 

Instead of being embarrassed and slinking shamefacedly away from any confrontation with the obnoxious busybodies as she would have done a few months before, Barbara, with her freshly-instilled self-confidence obviously empowering her, stepped into their view. "Yes ladies, you're right. He is young enough to be my son, but unlike you two dried-up old shrews, I'm about to go home and get the stuffing fucked out of me by a big, hard cock. Maybe you should try it sometime, then perhaps you wouldn't be so fucking judgemental." 

Strangely calm, given the circumstances, Barbara then forced her way between the two open-mouthed old farts, laughing loudly at the startled dismay on their faces. Still giggling, and slightly amazed at herself for unexpectedly using the sort of coarse language she normally shied away from, the self-confessed 'older-woman' quickly walked back to join Jake and her good friends again where she explained the reason for her obvious mirth. Having had just enough time to tell her companions all about the confrontation, she and her friends all turned and laughed at the two visibly shocked old biddies gathering up their coats and their unmistakably downtrodden husbands before hurrying out of the pub, red-faced and deliberately avoiding all eye-contact with the laughing group of friends. 

* * * 

A few days later, Barbara was having lunch with her friend Diane, her friend from the pub, when her relationship with Jake inevitably cropped up in their conversation. 

"Do YOU think it's wrong? Is that really what people are thinking about me?" 




The Weekend Pt. 03



All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.

(c)Andyhm 2015 





The Weekend Pt. 03



"Yeah I notice you didn't tell me." 

Karen looked a bit sheepish, "Well I didn't want you asking any awkward questions." 

"Oh, and one other thing. Do you know if there are any rumours about Gillian's intentions about entering the fashion industry bouncing around?" 

"I think so, at least, I wasn't that surprised when she mentioned it."

"In Chicago?" 

"Yeah."

I racked my brains to remember and another cog in the wheel fell into place. The Chicago trip had come up rather suddenly. Usually, her business trips were planned weeks in advance. This time, it had been the Friday evening before, far too late for me to change my plans and travel with her as I'd done in the past. 

"Who planned the trip?" 

"David, he was supposed to be going, then on the Friday something came up and he asked me to go instead. Why all the questions Neil, I thought you wanted to talk to Jilly?" 

"Oh, I do, but now I think you need to be there." 

She looked confused but came back down the stairs and followed me into the lounge. 

"Gillian," I said. "Tell us again, when did you know Karen would be in Chicago?"

"Err...it must have been at least a couple of weeks beforehand." 

"And how did you find out?" 

"Her travel details and hotel reservation were sent to me in an email." 

Karen shook her head, "That can't be right. I only found out the day before I flew." 

"Who sent you the information?"

"The PI's, they have a source in her offices."

The last card fell into place in my mind. 

"Karen, call David and put it on speaker." 

"It's one o'clock in the morning, Neil."

"Please just do it." 

She shrugged her shoulders and picked up her phone and dialled David's number. 

"It's ringing," she said, "I hope you know what you are doing." 

"Oh, I do. Please don't say anything." 

She passed the phone to me and I put it on the table in speaker mode.

"Karen?" A sleepy voice said.

"No, it's Neil."

"Is there a problem, is she alright?" David's voice rose in concern. 

"Not actually, she and I have been discussing the end of our marriage and her affair with Gillian."

"What!" David shouted and Karen whispered, "Oh God, please no Neil." looking at me with a horrified expression. I shook my head, putting my finger to my lips. 

"You need to get over here right away," I told him. 

"Neil, it's late and I'm in bed and I don't even understand what I can do to help. Can't this wait until the morning?" 

"David, I know. You've got an hour, if you are not here by then I'll get Gillian to tear up the contract with your company." 

"FUCK, you can't."

"I can and I will." 

"And I most certainly can," Gillian shouted.

There was a long pause and then he rang off. 

In the silence of the room, I grinned at Gillian. "You've worked it out haven't you?" 

She nodded hesitantly, "I'm not sure, but backing you seemed the best idea at the time."

Karen said, "You think David has something to do with this, don't you? I can't see how. I was the one who went to him about the possibility of getting the account." 

"Jilly," Christ, I'd started to call her by Karen's pet name for her. "Let me propose a scenario. You wanted to get closer to my wife. You knew that she worked for an advertising agency. And low and behold, you were just about to launch a clothing and accessory line that needs to be branded and advertised." 

"All you needed to do was find out where she'd be, and if I wasn't around, all the better. Then contrive a meeting and drop hints you are looking for a new advertising agency and you'd have a genuine reason to be around her all the time." 

I looked at her, "Convenient how things worked out wasn't it, almost as though you had a helping hand."

Silence fell and I could see both of them thinking hard. I kept myself busy while we waited to see if David would appear. I made hot chocolate for all of us, my go to comfort drink in times of stress. Karen and Gillian took their mugs with a grateful smile, blowing on the froth to cool them. 

I sat down between them on the sofa and Karen tucked her feet up and curled up against me. Gillian gave us a longing look and thinking that it's not going to kill me, I raise my arm in a mute invite. She gave a contented sigh and slid up against me and pulled my arm over her shoulders. 

Karen gave me a surprised look. 

I said to Karen as I kissed the top of her head, "Let's face it, other than the fact she's an opportunist she's still in love with you after all these years." 

"True, I am both of those," Gillian interrupted. 

"I think that when our guest arrives, we are going to find out that both of you have been manipulated into this situation." 

"Ohh, do tell?" 

"You know how I hate not having all facts so let's wait till David gets here." 

"Are you sure he's going to come?" 

"Oh, I know he will. Our threat to tear up the contract would have him panicking." 

Karen wriggled around to face me, "Yes, about that. You know that's all my hard work the pair of you are casually tossing in the bin. If we lose this contract, a lot of our plans for the agency are going to have to be scrapped. I'm not even sure we will survive." 

Gillian stretched over me and kissed Karen. "I'm not going to do it, but David doesn't need to know that, it's our secret." 

I moved away from Gillian, "Did I say it was ok for you to kiss her?"

Karen looked nervously at me, Gillian just looked annoyed.

"I still don't trust you," I said. 

She appeared to swallow her first thought. Then said, "I'm sorry I forget myself sometimes. I'm just nervous and worried about what David's going to say." 

I said, "Jilly, if it hadn't have been for the fact that Karen worked there, would David's company even be in the running to get you as a client?" 

She shook her head, "Not even on the horizon!" I felt I'd been told the truth for once.

It was another twenty minutes before the glow of the security lights coming through the window, announced David's arrival. 

"I'll let him in," Karen said as she stood up. 

I said, "Don't say anything to him, just bring him through." 

She nodded and went to open the door. We heard the sound of David's voice before she reappeared closely followed by a flustered looking David. 

"I don't like being threatened," David said as he sat down on the armchair. 

"And I don't appreciate that your actions have come close to ruining my marriage," I replied. 

"I don't know what you mean." 

"Why don't I tell you all a story, you three can fill in the gaps. David if you don't cooperate, then I'm going to get Jilly to tear up the contract." 

"And I will, 'cos I'm not happy with you," Gillian said. David sank back into his chair with a resigned expression on his face. 

"So this is how I think it went down," I said. "Please step in and correct me where I go wrong." 

"I guess this all started a few months ago. Karen, I remember you telling me that David was looking for a big client to help fund his expansion plans."

"That's right though it wasn't just for that. The recession has hurt us; we've lost several of our old clients. We need to find new business to survive." 

"Ahh, that explains a lot. David, I suspect that you heard rumours that Jilly was about to enter the fashion industry. You already knew that she and Karen had been close friends at university. How did you find out that they had been lovers?" 

He gave a little smile at that, "Ah, that was Sally, my secretary. It seems her girlfriend was part of the group that ran around with the pair of them at uni. She saw both of you, at last year's Christmas party. She couldn't believe that Karen was married. She remembered you as a hard hard lesbian, who was in in a long-term relationship with Gillian. She told Sally, who told me." 

"Ok, that clears that one up. Then you found out, or were told that Gillian was still interested in Karen." 

"You can chalk that up to Sally as well. She let slip a year ago that someone was paying her for information about Karen. She didn't see any harm in it as all they wanted to know was Karen's travel and social calendar. I was worried that a competitor was trying to head hunt her. I got Sally to arrange a face to face meeting which I crashed. That's when I found out it was a private detective and that Gillian was paying them to keep tabs on Karen." 

Gillian said, "Fuck, sorry Neil; they never told me that they'd been compromised." 

"So your investigations weren't as anonymous as you thought they were," I said. "Which means that David was able to work out that you still had feelings for Karen." 

David ignored my statement so I carried on with my tale. I was getting worked up so I stood and started pacing the room. A bad habit of mine that I thought I'd managed to control.

"So this is what I think happened. David needs a big new client to save the company. He knew about your past and your relationship with Jilly. He was also pretty sure that she wanted to rekindle that relationship with you. A relationship he felt would give him an in, and an edge in any contract deals with you." 

"Remember Karen, Gillian confirmed earlier, under normal circumstances your agency wouldn't have been in the running. I think, hearing the rumours that Gillian was about to launch her own range, David decided his best option was to engineer a meeting between the pair of you. He settled on the Chicago conference as his best option and then booked a flight and room for Karen. He had no intention of going himself. Then he made sure that Sally passed on the information about the Chicago trip." 

"I suspect he got her to include rumours that Karen still had feelings for you to wet your appetite Gillian. Next, I suspect he re-enforced the agency's need for new clients to Karen." 

"He did go on about over the past few weeks. But why did he wait for the last moment to tell I was going if he'd already booked for me, he waited until the last minute to tell me I was going?" 

"That one's easy. He knew that if you had told me about the trip in time, I could have arranged to travel with you, I've done it in the past." I looked at Gillian, "If I had been there, would you have approached Karen?"

"Probably not." 

"So Gillian, you two were finally in the same place and you set up the meeting to look like an accident. You spun her a story about why you were there, and when the time was right, you told her about your new venture. That you were looking for a new agency to help launch the lines. Karen must have thought Christmas had come early. An old friend she still had feelings for, just happens to need what her company could provide. What a coup that would have been?" 

"What I don't understand is why you thought she'd stay the weekend with you?" 

I stopped in mid-steam. "Oh, of course, I'm an idiot. You already knew the story behind the locket didn't you?" 

Gillian gave a short nod. 

"It's not something I hid, Neil," Karen added. "I was proud that you trusted me so much. I used to show it to the girls in the office. The fact I hadn't used it was proof of my love for you. When she asked me about it, I saw no reason not to tell her about it." 

"But of course, you already knew Gillian, your whole goal was to make her feel that it was alright to use it. You were fairly sure you could pressure her into staying with you and she wouldn't feel guilty about it."

"That's what I hoped. Especially after I heard that she was having second thoughts about her marriage. I thought if I could just get her on my own for a couple of days it would rekindle her love for me." 

Karen spluttered, "But that not true, I never said anything like that. I'm more in love with him now than I've ever been." 

I looked at David, "Something else you got Sally to pass on I guess. Basically, you pimped out my wife expecting her to come back with the contract. And you didn't care if you destroyed our marriage on the way." 

"No," he said vehemently.

"Bollocks, you were stacking the cards in your favour and you didn't care who you hurt so long as you claimed the pot." 

The fight seemed to ooze out of him and he put his head in his hands. "Fuck it, I was just trying to save the company. The divorce meant I had to pay back the investment Sandra's parents made in the business. I took personal loans out against the company to be able to afford it. But with business the way it's been over the past eighteen months I've had to dip into the company accounts to be able to make the loan payments." 

Their divorce had been a couple of years ago. Sandra had found about his reputation of playing away from home on his business trips. She'd set a PI on him and had easily got the proof of his lifestyle. She'd really been upset and I knew the divorce had hurt him. 

I shook my head and got my thoughts back to the point in hand. 

"So I guess that means you admit it," I said. "You were happy to do anything to save your bloody company. You fed false information to Gillian hoping that her feelings for Karen would make her eager to work with your business. And you sent Karen to her, hopeful that when she met Gillian again, it would rekindle her feelings for her. If they became lovers again, then you would be sure of getting the contract. 

Then I raised my voice, "You didn't give a fuck if you screwed up our marriage." 

Karen stepped over to him and slapped his face. 

"You can take that as my resignation," she snapped at him. Then she clutched at me and burst out crying. 

Shit, I thought, she loves that job. If she goes and Gillian carries through with her threat then ...

And if she was reading my mind, Gillian said, "If Karen's not there, then I'll cancel the deal. She's the reason I pushed so hard for your agency." 

Then to Karen, she said, "Come and work for me instead..."

"Fuck no," I blurted out. Karen stiffened in my arms. 

"Why wouldn't you want me, not to work for her, I thought you said she was as much a victim in this as I was." 

"David may have manipulated the pair of you. But that doesn't condone the fact that within hours of meeting her again, she almost had you agreeing to spend the night with her. If I hadn't called when I did, I would probably already be filing for a divorce!" 

I sighed in desperation. "I wouldn't be honest with myself if I didn't say no. Let's be realistic, it seems that no sooner do you profess your love for me than you are going on about her. I meant what I said earlier. I'm not willing to share you." 

Karen shook in my arms, "Oh God, I so wanted you to like her. The thought that I might have Jilly back in my life again has made me so ..."

She felt me stiffen and her words trailed away into silence. 

Into the awkward silence came David's voice. "So what happens now?" 

I struggled to get my racing emotions back to the question of David. 

"Without the contract how long can the agency survive?" 

"A few months at most. That is unless I can find a hell of a lot of new contracts in the next few weeks. Otherwise, I'll need to let most of the staff go. I'll declare bankruptcy to try and save the little I can." 

My mind was racing as I tried to think of something. But there at the back of my mind, overriding all others, was the thought. If the agency failed then, Gillian would go away. 

Gillian cleared her throat. "Why don't I buy you out? You could stay on as the manager and so could Karen." 

"No," Karen said. "That would be the same as me working for you and Neil's already said no to that. Buy the company, that's a good idea, but I can't work for it."

Gillian sat still for a moment, biting her lips in concentration. "What if you owned it?" She mused. 

"I don't understand," Karen said. 

I could see Gillian lining up her thoughts. 

She held up her hand and said. "Bare with me for a minute. I have a proposal that might solve this. What if I do buy out the agency. But then I sell it to you, for say a pound... yes, a pound. Then you wouldn't be working for me, I'd just be the client." 

In the silence that followed this statement, a plethora of emotions flickered across the faces of all of us. 

There was a look of satisfaction with a tinge of triumph on Gillian's. David's just showed a mix of hope and relief. And Karen looked so hopeful I wanted to cry. All my fears and insecurities came rushing to the fore again. 

My groan of despair echoed around the room. Gillian had managed to do it, offer Karen the one thing she'd always wanted. Something that was way out of my reach to be able to give her. The chance to run her own agency. 

I moved away from them, I knew I'd lost; if this happened then at best, we would stagger along for a few months until I became irrelevant to her future. I couldn't bare to see her face and I stumbled up the stairs. I felt a hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off. Behind me, I heard a whimper and then more raised voices. I was no longer interested in anything. I made it to the top of the stairs and collapsed on the single bed in the little box room. Surrounded by the clutter of broken furniture, the dregs of our life together. A fitting place for me I felt. I was physically and mentally exhausted and fell into a deep dreamless sleep within moments of my face hitting the musty pillow. 





The Weekend Pt. 03



She gave me a bemused look, "Have you read them correctly?" 

"Not really, I just glanced at the top page." 

"Oh, you beautiful fucking idiot it's good news. Yes, Jilly's agreed to buy out David." 

"It seems your idea of good news sure as fuck ain't the same as mine. So you now work for your lover." 

"Yes."

I looked at her smiling face in horror. 

"You need to read the papers, Neil before you jump to a conclusion." 

I made no move to pick them and she hissed in frustration. "Oh, for Christ sake you stubborn idiot. Yes, Jilly is buying David out, and no I don't work for her. She's signing it all over to you. I'll be working for you." 

"What!" And I sat back down in my chair in surprise. 

"She and David agreed on a price quite quickly, even though I kept telling her I couldn't work for her. She kept telling me she had a cunning plan. I knocked up a simple letter of intent. They both signed it and he went home. He'll stay on as general manager." 

"No, hang on a moment, go back a bit. Did you just say I owned the agency?" 

"What part of 'she's signing it over to you' did you not understand?"

"Why for fucks sake?" I was seriously beginning to think I hadn't woken up and this was all a frigging nightmare. On top of which my head was still thumping away.

"Because you were right when you said, I would always feel indebted to her, and obliged to give her, her pound of flesh." 

"I know that it's why I thought the whole thing was a bad idea." 

"It is and it isn't." 

I put my head in my hands and growled, "Fuck it, Karen, will you please stop trying to confuse me. In my fragile state, it doesn't take a lot." 

She came over to me and sat on my lap. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed my forehead, then my lips. 

She said wistfully as she gently massaged my temples, "I'm so sorry, the last few days have been really rough on you, and none of it is your fault. I hurt you by wanting to go away for the weekend with her. It was a stupid idea, but I was all swept up in the emotion. Then you found out about my sexuality." 

She kissed me hard crushing my lips. "I was so scared you would reject me and so happy that you didn't."

I murmured, "I'll never understand why you thought that knowing you were ... still are, attracted to women, would make me not love you." 

My voice rose slightly, "What I won't accept is that someone, anyone is trying to steal your affection away from me. So do you want to explain to me what the hell, you and Gillian are plotting? And come to think about it where is she?" 

Her body shook against mine. "Gillian said she'll explain it properly this afternoon. Her driver picked her up a couple of hours ago. She said there was something she needed to get from her hotel. But if you asked, I was to tell you that the gift of the agency is by way of an apology that she never got us a wedding present." 

"A whole company's a fucking big wedding present." 

She laughed, "I think she does know you. She said you would say that and I was to point out that she was paid over forty million dollars for her last film. She won't even notice the million or so that buying out David costs." 

It took me a few moments to take all this in, moments I used to reacquaint myself with the beauty of the woman on my lap. One question still needed to be answered, the elephant in the room question. 

"Is there still an us, or do you expect me to share you with her?"

Her response was quick and forceful. "Only you, with one hundred percent of my body, mind and soul. Jilly will be here this afternoon to watch you play and she wants to talk to you. She's going to confirm she understands that she can never be my lover again." 

Then her voice turned all wistful again, and she pleaded, "Please Neil, don't make me give her up as a friend. I've missed her over the years." 

The problem was that I was growing to like this interloper in our lives. I may hate the thought of her swooping in and trying to steal my wife, but hadn't I done just that to her all those years ago. She was beautiful and when she got her head out of her arse, I could see the personality that had attracted Karen all those years ago. 

Karen had never had a female best friend in all the years I'd known her, and now I knew why. She'd never found anyone who could replace Gillian. But I was still so scared that if I agreed I'd slowly lose her. I tried to say what I felt, but my words seemed stiff. 

"I have no objection to the pair of you being friends. But can you promise me that you'll only stay friends?"

This was one of those times I was so grateful she knew me so well, that she understood there was so much more I was trying to say than my few words implied.

She took my hands off her body and held them between hers. "I know you want me to say yes. But I can tell that every fibre of your body is screaming at you to make me tell her to go away." 

She looked me straight in my eyes and said forcefully and deliberately, pausing between each word. "There ... is ... no ... way ... I'm ... ever ... going ... to... leave ... you!" 

She kept looking at me as she leant in to kiss me, forcing me by her willpower to keep eye contact. 

"Since we got engaged I've never been unfaithful to you. Yes, there was that brief period after I met you that I was still sleeping with other women. Neil, there was even one time with Jilly the day she got back from Paris. I needed to know if I forgave her for the woman she slept with there." 

"And I guess you did."

"Not immediately, but I had by the time she left for New York."

"Karen, you didn't really answer my question, am I going to have to share your love with her? Because if that's what you want, then I'm not sure our marriage will survive!"

"No," she said adamantly, "Our marriage is over when I say it is, and I can tell you it isn't now. I know what's at stake and only one person is ever going to decide who shares our bed and that's you." 

There was a short pause then she said, "Please take me to bed, fuck me hard. I have to prove to you that I'm yours," Karen whispered. "And I want to have our baby. I stopped taking birth control last month and I'm ready and fertile now. I was going to tell you earlier, but I wanted to surprise you." 

I carried her upstairs, setting her down at the foot of our bed. I swept my cricket whites and sports bag off the bed. I went to take off my shirt, but she stopped me. 

"You're the most important person in my life and I'm going to prove it." She pushed me up against the wall pulling hard at the front of my shirt. Pulling it open without undoing the buttons. Then bestowing feather-light kisses across my chest before sucking my nipples making me moan in pleasure. 

"You are all mine," she whispered, "and I'm all yours and only yours and I'm going to prove it until you beg me to stop." 

She fumbled at the belt of my jeans, undoing it and the jeans. She pulled them down over my hips and let them pool at my ankles. She groaned in satisfaction as she saw the growing bulge in my boxers. She slid them down to free my cock, rampant with desire, from his confines. Her mouth opened and she swallowed the head, sucking hard and running her hands along the shaft and under my balls. I leant back against the wall, moaning as her head bobbed faster as she swallowed more of me each time. Her long blond hair cascaded over shoulders and tickled the front of my legs.

The pent up anger in me made me lose control quite quickly. I felt the pressure building up and I managed to gasp out. "Ohh shit, Karen, I'm going to cum." 

She grinned up at me and sucked harder. I came with a shudder, filling her mouth and she swallowed, licking me clean. I pulled her up and she kissed me, her tongue sharing my essence with me. 

"It's my turn," I whispered and I stripped her jeans and top from her. She wore no bra and an almost transparent little pair of emerald green panties. She lay back on the bed, letting her thighs fall open. I kissed my way slowly up the inside of her thighs until my lips hovered above the centre of her sex. Her panties were wet with desire. Pulling them to one side exposed the glistening beads on her puffy labia. The little sighs of pleasure became a loud moan as my tongue slid along the length of her slit.

"Please, just there," she whimpered as the tip of my tongue paused on her erect clit. I let my tongue circled and caressed her clit her growing urgency evident from the guttural cries forced from her throat. I slid two fingers into her, the tips finding and stimulating her G-spot. 

She rolled her hips, pushing up against me as my mouth and fingers moved tirelessly teasing, first one then a second screaming orgasm from her soul. 

"Ohh God, fuck ... me ... now ..." she gasped out. 

Her fingers clenched in my hair, and pulled me up, urging me to cover her. I tore her panties from her, throwing the ruined scrap of fabric over my shoulder. I pushed in deep and hard. Her legs wrapped around the back of my thighs. Her fingers clenched against the flesh of my buttocks, urging me to push in deeper. I reveled in the sensations as her soft silky cunt enveloped my trusting shaft. 

I kept up the pace, changing the rhythm of the strokes in tune with her needs and the movements of her hips. Her body stiffened as she came. She babbled out my name repeatedly. I kept moving, she was mine and I was going to prove it to her. 

She whimpered and cried out again as another and then yet another orgasm washed over her. Until I came with a rasping gasp, pumping my hot cum against the entrance of her ripe womb, covering her cervix with my possessive life-giving essences. 

Her fingertips were dug deep into muscles on my back and the walls of her passage clenched tightly around me, milking the last drop from me. 

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at me with a familiar look of love and desire. I rolled to the side, but she refused to let me pull out. Her finger traced a line of sweat running down my chest. She kept squeezing my shaft with her cunt. 

She kissed my nipple, "I love you so much," she whispered, "I am yours, please don't ever stop loving me."

"I won't, I couldn't. You're part of me, love." 

She gave a little sob of happiness and relaxed in my arms. 





The Weekend Pt. 03



It took us exactly one more over to reach that total. Philip scoring two runs off the sixth and last ball of the over for the win. There was a polite round of applause from the opposition and the spectators as we walked from the field and to the pavilion. On the way, I had a brief conversation with Philip. He gave a surprised look but nodded his agreement. 

In the pavilion, I took off my gear and with a nod to Philip slipped out the back door. I hurried over to the cottage. It only took five minutes before I was climbing into my car having stripped off my whites and dressed in jeans and shirt. 

It had come to me as a sickening realisation as I'd played those last few balls that I needed to make a decision. Looking at the pair of them, I was sure Carol was right. Karen was always going to wonder 'what if'. If we were going to survive I needed to let her try her 'what if', regardless of how much it hurt me. 

Having made my mind up, I drove out of the village and began the three-hour drive to our little holiday cottage on the Devon coast. 

No, I hadn't just walked out on Karen, I'm not that much of a bastard. I was going to come back. As we'd walked back to the pavilion I'd asked Philip to tell Carol, I'd taken her advice. I was going to give Karen and Gillian some space tonight. But I couldn't be around them; I had to get away to a place of good memories. 

Carol was to let Karen know before she got worried and tell her I intended to be back tomorrow evening. Was I happy, fuck no. Was there a risk I could lose her, hell yes. I just had to hope she did love me and Carol was right. 

As I suffered the traffic on the M25, I was deep in thought. I was starting to regret my actions, but Carol's words kept coming back to me. I was scared that if I just said no, which was my gut feeling, I'd lose her; maybe not to Gillian, but ultimately I'd lose her. I'd been driving for an hour before my phone started ringing. I ignored it; I think I'd have lost it completely if I had heard her voice. 

Over the next two hours, it took me to reach our holiday cottage. I'd almost turned around, at least, a dozen times and it took a great deal of willpower to get out of the car and not go back immediately. One thought kept me driving, and that was, I loved her and I knew she loved me. And because I loved her I had to trust her feelings. She was convinced that Gillian had feelings for me, so I resolved to talk to Gillian when I got back. She was stunning and I suppose if she did show me that she wanted to be part of our lives, not just Karen's, it would soften the blow of them being together periodically. 

Our holiday cottage is an old fisherman's cottage that sits on a low rise at the head of a tiny cove. We'd been very lucky; it used to belong to a distant relative of Karen's mother. She'd inherited it and was going to sell it, as it needed a fair amount of work. We bought it from her for next to nothing on the understanding that the family could use it after we fixed it up. 

I parked the car at the top of the track and walked up the long path to the cove. The trail curves around until it tops the rise. The early evening sun hung in the sky casting a warm glow on the grey slate of the roof. The peace of the cove settled around me like a warm blanket and for the first time in days, I began to relax. 

The cottage squats in the landscape as though it's been there forever. It's small, basically, only two rooms, although we'd converted an old external lean-to outhouse into an extension to house a decent bathroom. The granite walls were painted white and the roof a grey slate cap. 

I opened up the place, throwing the windows open to capture the gentle warm sea breeze. I took a bottle of wine and a glass and sat down at the table and chairs in the small walled garden. I checked my phone and smiled. No bars, the cove was a cellular blind spot on the on the map, another check mark on the plus side of the place in my mind. 

The sea in front of me reminded me of a Turner painting, flecks of colour reaching from the deepest blue to golden orange. Our twenty-four-foot sailboat was moored to a pair of buoys in the middle of the cove and was framed by the dark granite rocks forming the headlands to either side of the inlet. 

I relaxed in the chair, a glass in my hand and my feet propped up on a log. The sounds of the cove were a lullaby to my soul: the waves on the rocks; the rustling of the leaves in the breeze; and the bird songs and occasional lowing of cattle in the nearby fields, a perfect counterpoint. 

The usual sounds of civilisation were conspicuously absent, no traffic or people assaulted my senses. I closed my eyes, feeling the sun on my face and the breeze as it stirred my hair while I occasionally sipped from my glass. 

The sound of a distant helicopter briefly disturbed the peace. I topped up my glass before letting the magic of the cove settle around me again. 

Was I seriously considering the thought that Gillian could become part of my relationship with my wife? I was so focused on my thoughts and the harmony of my surroundings that I never heard them arrive. 

A softly spoken, "Master" appearing on the periphery of my senses was my first indication I wasn't alone anymore. It took me a moment to realise that this wasn't the first time I'd heard this familiar voice. I opened my eyes to see every man's fantasy. Two beautiful women, no let's be accurate here, two beautiful women dressed in skimpy skirts and tiny bikini tops kneeling on the grass in front of me. Each wore a leather collar and held out a lead to me in the hand that wasn't clasped demurely in their lap. They weren't looking at me but at the ground in front of me. 

My first thought wasn't 'holy fuck there are two almost naked women kneeling before me'. It was 'where the hell did they get the collars and leads'. I'm not sure what that says about my emotional state. 

There was a long pause while I gathered my thoughts. Karen, yes it was Karen and Gillian, was as still as a statue. The only movement her long hair as the breeze caught it. Gillian was trembling and I could see a bead of nervous sweat trickling down between her breasts. 

"Master," came Karen's soft voice again, interrupting my thoughts. "You must take our leads and accept us as your slaves." 

"Why?" Because I was sure if I did, I would have stepped over a line into a future I wasn't sure I wanted. 

"Because ... we have hurt you and this is the only way that we can earn your love, forgiveness and trust back. You need to know that you own me body and soul."

"And if I don't want to?"

Her face fell and her voice got all trembly, "You have to Neil, I love you." And tears started running down her face. 

"What about you?" I asked Gillian. "Why do you want this, what's in it for you? Why should I accept your offer?"

She swallowed and then said nervously, "I love Karen, and I want to be near her as much as I can. But I know you're not going to let that happen, so I hope this proves I'm not trying to steal her from you. If you take me as your slave, then you completely control me and my access to her. I will obey you, Master."

"You're rich and powerful Gillian, do you honestly think you can surrender your will to me?"

"I have to, I know that getting you to trust me means I have to put myself entirely in your hands. And I won't be the only one rich anymore." 

The last part of her answer confused me and I said so. 

She raised her head to look me in the eye. "I'm giving you half of everything I've saved, that's half of a hundred and twenty million, and half of anything I earn in the future will be yours!"

I sat back in my chair stunned by what I'd just heard. For long minutes, I racked my brain trying to work out all the implications of both of their offers. How far were they willing to take this, for as I understood this lifestyle was very much a two-way thing. Was Gillian trying to buy me with her millions?

Coming to a conclusion, I looked up to see both of them shivering both from the evening air and from the humility of their situation. The sun had dropped below the horizon and the garden was now in shadow. The pleasant cooling breeze from earlier was now chilly, and I could see goosebumps on their arms. Karen and Gillian both had tears running down their cheeks.

Not sure if I was doing the right thing and knowing it was risking the dynamics of our marriage, I stood and without taking the offered leads, said. "Come." 

They both struggled stiffly to their feet, supporting each other, and I ushered them into the cottage. The tiny pleated skirts barely covered their arses, and it was fairly obvious neither wore anything under them. I'd seen both of them before, Karen had bought them to wear to a fancy dress party. She'd gone as a naughty schoolgirl. I'd gone as ... oh you get the idea. One was blue tartan, the other red. She'd not been able to choose between them and so had come home with both. I'd picked the red and she'd wear it when she felt she wanted to be a naughty girl and be punished. That said, we had never done the dom-sub thing before, and I certainly couldn't even imagine it with two women.

The cottage still retained the summer warmth and they both looked more comfortable. I sat down on the sofa, they both went to sit at my feet, but I stopped them. 

"This isn't something we just jump into, we need to talk about it," I said. They didn't say a word and just stood there waiting for me to continue.

It was a bit unnerving, I loved the old Karen and this Stepford Wives version of her was disturbing. I made them sit either side of me and unhooked the leads from their collars. There was a tag attached to each of the collars engraved with the words 'l belong to Neil'. 

Ideally wondering how they managed to get them engraved so quickly, I asked. "How long is this going to last?" 

Karen said in a reverent tone, "Until we have proved you can trust us, then if you wish you can release us. But just so you know you've been my master since the day I met you and will be until I die." 

Gillian whispered, "I wish she loved me to the same degree." Then in a firmer voice, "She loves you so I love you! And as I love you then you're my master too." 

Christ, I wasn't expecting that. "You don't need to try and love me just because she does." 

"I don't love you just because she does, but because of why she does. You are the centre of her universe, just as she is yours. When I knew her, the touch of a man frightened her. But look at her ..."

And I did.

"She's desperate for you to touch her, to hold her. You have overcome her body's natural desire for women. And then you go and offer us a night together, after all that I've done and has happened between us. Well, no shit Sherlock, that just about sealed my affection for you. The night without you as part of it wouldn't be right." 

The more they said, the greater grew my discomfort at the scene being played out in front of me. Was Gillian saying I needed to be part of their night, was that what this display was all about? And was she talking just about tonight or did she mean in the long term?

Finally, I stood up and began pacing, waving my hand at them to stay seated. Karen had already popped up to stand at attention, catching Gillian off guard. She sat at my gesture.

I started speaking, I wasn't actually talking to them; all my confused, disturbed and irrational thoughts came spilling out of my mouth. 

"This feels so wrong. I don't want a fucking mindless slave; I want the loving wife who's been my partner in all things, discussing everything. And having two slaves ... ughhhh!" 

I kept glancing at the pair of them, each time I did so, my thoughts would fly off in another direction. 

"And if I do this will Gillian expect me to sleep with her. Hell, isn't this just a game so she can have sex with my wife. Or does she really believe I need to be part of it?" 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, this has to be all her idea. Why couldn't they have just taken the night I gave them? No, of course not; one night isn't enough for her, this way she gets to steal her from me." 

"Why did you think you needed to lie to me for all those years?" 

"What the fuck makes the other think she can buy me off? Fuck is that her idea, to buy Karen from me."

At last, my thoughts coalesced into one all defining one. 

"No, I don't want this," and I sank to my knees, on the rug in front of the fireplace. My eyes squeezed tight, because what I can't see isn't there! 

Moments later Karen was beside me, her arms wrapped tightly around me her head pressed against mine. Her sobs broke through the barrier I was trying to build. I always was a sucker for a crying woman. I drew a breath in, assaulting my senses with her unique scent. And opened my eyes.

Her wide red-rimmed blue eyes stared at me from a couple of inches away. Framed in a face that expressed a mix of love and fear. Gillian also knelt nearby, only a few feet away. She put her hand out and stroked my arm.

Karen pleaded, "Neil, you walked away and left me and I didn't know what to do. Carol read us the riot act when she found out what you'd done. I've never seen her so angry. She said we should throw ourselves at your feet and hope you'd forgive us."

"Why like this, and how did you know where I'd gone?" 

"It was Carol's suggestion that we should throw ourselves at your feet that gave us the idea of offering ourselves to you as slaves. We thought that if you knew you were in charge, you might forgive me – forgive us." 

Karen sat back on her heels, "Probably not my best thought out plan. I'm sorry we honestly thought that this would help you get over our stupidity." Her voice faded away as she resumed crying. 

Gillian sat back with her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped around them, oblivious to the fact she wore no panties. 

"It's my fault," Jilly said. "Don't blame her, all I ever wanted was to be a small part of her life again. And yours, I wanted a bit of what she gives you and some of what you give her."

"Finding where you'd gone was easy, you took the keys for here from the hook in the kitchen. Karen noticed they were missing as soon as we got back to the house. Deciding what we were going to do and then getting the costumes together took a bit longer. I arranged for a helicopter to pick us up and he dropped us off in a field back there." She waved in the general direction of the lane. 

I don't know why but the irrational thought struck me and I had to ask. "Did you fly dressed like that?" 

She nodded looking down at herself and then gave a nervous laugh. "Ah yes, but we wore coats over them. Magazines would pay a paparazzi a small fortune for a photo of me dressed like this. We left our other clothes in a couple of bags by the gate when we looked and saw you on the bench." 

"I'll go and get them." I got up grateful to snatch a breath of fresh air and stepped out into the garden. I was back a couple of minutes later with their bags and coats. 

They were sitting back on the sofa as I dropped off their bags. 

"Do you want to get changed?" 

They both looked at each other. Karen said submissively, "Do you want us to change?" 

Hell no. Two of the most beautiful women I know dressed to seduce me. It was every red-blooded man's dream. But, and I can't believe I'm thinking this, the lack of panties was a tad distracting. My cock was starting to influence my thoughts. And when I looked closer they were both shivering in the chill of the evening. 

So regretfully I said, "At least put some panties on and a warm top." Then with a smile, I added, "But the skirts stay." 

That got a laugh from both of them and gathering the bags they disappeared into the bedroom. A fire had been laid in the fireplace and it only needed a match to get it going. 

Karen was the first to return. She lifted the front of the red tartan schoolgirl fantasy skirt to display a thong. Her top was an old shirt she'd tied off around her waist, I could tell she'd lost the bikini top as the heavenly outline of her areoles showed through the soft white cotton.

She gave me a spin as though she was seeking my approval, and I held my arms out to her. With a little sob, she threw herself into them. Pressing her sexy body up against mine, and covering my face with a multitude of kisses. My poor confused cock happily responded to her presence by doing what he does best. Karen whimpered as she felt the bulge in the front of my jeans and pressed her pussy hard against me. 

There was another whimper, this time from the bedroom doorway. I looked to see Gillian standing there with such a sad expression on her face. I motioned for her to join us. I expected that she would hug Karen. But no, she pushed herself up against me, and Karen gave her a few inches, which she took gratefully. Suddenly, I had two warm, attractive and delightful smelling women in my arms, rubbing their perfect bodies up against mine. To my surprise, Gillian gave me a dozen little kisses on my cheek and neck. I remember thinking that this wasn't so bad.

My hand traced its way down Karen's back until I could caress the soft skin of her arse cheeks. She buried her face into my neck giving me a happy sigh. She eased her legs either side of one of mine, rubbing her pussy on my thigh. 

Gillian gave me a shy but hopeful look and tugged my free hand down her back and onto her arse. I ran my fingertips over the incredibly soft silky fabric covering her firm arse under the mini-skirt. 

In my mind, I was wondering if this was wise. But then again how often do you have the chance to caress the arse of an A-list movie star. A movie star who was happily pushing her firm unfettered breasts into my chest; her nipples hard against the silk of her top. Jilly also mounted my other thigh and pushed her essence against me. Did she really mean it when she had said I needed to be a part of everything? 

Karen lifted her head and her lips sought mine and drew me into a long kiss that left both of us gasping for breath. No sooner than my lips had left Karen's than Gillian had her face upturned waiting for her kiss. I gave her a hesitant kiss, but that wasn't to her liking. Her tongue darted into my mouth and she drew more and more from me. 

My brain overruled my cock long enough for me to ask Karen. "What's going on love? Is this what you want to happen?" 

She gave first me and then Gillian a speculative glance. "I'm not sure, I know that I need you to take me into the bedroom and fuck my brains out." 

"And what do you want," I said to Gillian.

She hesitated for a moment and then said, "I want to experience what you two feel. I want someone who makes love to me, not just fucks my body. I want to be part of what makes you both so amazing." 

She started crying and we both hugged her. Finally, she was able to bring her sobs under control. She eased herself out of our tight grip and swallowing hard started to speak.

"I've not given you any reason to trust me, Neil. I've been manipulating the situation to try and reclaim something I foolishly threw away. I promise I've stopped all that." 

"But ..." Karen started to say, but Gillian stopped her.

"Please, this is hard for me. I know that David was happy enough to take advantage of my feelings for you, but I was ready and willing to accept his help even if I didn't know why he was giving it or the impact it was having."

"Neil, it may not look like it, but I never wanted to take her away from you. I wanted her to love both of us, I wanted Karen to be part of my life again, just as much as I need Karen to be with you. But I also want a part of what you give to her every day." 

"I can't just give you part of my love," I said. 

She shook her head, "Of course not, it's something I need to earn. But Neil." and she took hold of my hand. "Whether you love me or not is immaterial at the moment. What is important is you're inseparable. I can't have one of you without the other." 




The Weekend Pt. 03



She stopped, "Crap, I'm not explaining this very well. I'm a fucking actor; I should be better with my words than this. And no, I'm not acting now, I'm not that good." 

"At first, I hated you, you had taken something I'd been foolish enough to let slip from my grasp. I waited for her to come to her senses. I was so sure her infatuation with a man had to be a passing fad. How wrong I was. Then as I watched you, I realised how much you loved her and how much she loved you. Over the years, I've grown to admire you, and yes as crass as it sounds I've fallen in love with you. If you're good for her, then I know I want to share in that." 

"I know I've not shown much evidence of that these past few days, I'm not surprised you don't trust me. I really didn't think it would upset you if Karen and I got back together again. Isn't it every husband's fantasy to see his wife make out with another woman?" 

It was Karen who spoke next. "Husband;" oh shit, she only called me that when my world was about to change. 

"Husband," she repeated, "One of two things is going to happen now. Both revolve around the premise that you are about to fuck me. In the first, you take me into the bedroom where I will prove to you just how much I love you while Jilly sleeps out here on the sofa. In the second, we will both take you into the bedroom and prove how much we both love you." 

I think 'deer in the headlights' best described me after those words. There the whole situation was in a nutshell.

She tightened her grip on me, her arm around my waist pulling her tight against me. Her rock hard nipples seemingly drilling holes in my chest. 

She grinned up at me, "Oh, and so you fully understand. You don't get to choose, I do! Now, trust me that I'm doing the right thing for US."

She stepped away from me and with a nod to Gillian, they both led me into the bedroom like a lamb to the slaughter. I have to admit that I did go willingly. If you get hammered on enough and in the right way, even the toughest nail gives way.