28 comments/ 68959 views/ 17 favorites The Exploits of Claire Ch. 01 By: RothkoJamesHart Please do not read this story if you do not like the theme of cheating partners. I'm always interested in what people think, as long as it's constructive. -- Saturday morning shone through the bedroom windows onto the slumber of James Healey and Claire Chesterton wrapped up in their ornate double bed. She was resting her head on his chest whilst he played with her hair. "See, you don't need to go out to have a good time" said James, slyly continuing the argument from the previous night. "No, I guess I stand corrected," Claire grudgingly agreed. "But we can't just shut ourselves off from the world." She never was able to let an argument lie. "Maybe not, but there is something romantic about the idea," smiled James not wanting this to escalate into an argument again. Claire was just about to reply when the phone rang. She picked it up and instantly started squealing down the phone with that vivacious, bubbly character of hers. James watched her as she became totally consumed in the conversation. "I take it that was Chloe" James offered dryly as she put down the receiver. She was always the same when Chloe rang; it was like she became a giddy schoolgirl excited by the mischief they could get up to together. "Yeah, she wants us to come out tonight to that new club that's just opened in the centre of town, apparently there are several different theme rooms – 60s, 70s, 80s. You'll love it, you can spend all your time in the 80s room!" she said enthusiastically. James knew that this was one of those times when arguing would prove utterly futile. "I, on the other hand, will spend most of my time in the 60s room dancing, then I think I'll chill in the 70s room" she proclaimed bunching her dark mahogany hair into a ponytail as she stood. Claire spoke euphemistically – she liked her mind-expanding substances, particularly when she was drunk. James' face turned to dread at the thought of it. He hated clubbing with a passion; he'd much sooner have an intellectual conversation than battle his natural self-consciousness trying to dance. Claire, on the other hand, was a natural. She looked amazing on the dance floor; her perfect, svelte figure, a revealing outfit, her Latin hereditary giving her all the self-confidence she needed to really let go and enjoy herself. James stared as she inspected herself in the mirror. Was it out of pure vanity that she went through this meticulous process every morning? Or was it to look good for him, her boyfriend of near enough 18months? She continued to fiddle with her eyebrows as he gazed over her beautiful body hidden only by the flimsy lilac t-shirt and shorts. Sometimes they were so different, but sometimes they were so alike. As much as he adored her in those moments of privacy, she also had another side to her, the one that wanted to live life to the full, to sample the assorted fruits of life and say no to nothing. Claire finished her inspection and flashed a smile at James as she danced toward the shower. She was definitely excited about tonight. The day rolled quickly by and Claire went out shopping with Chloe for a new dress leaving James watching TV as the football results came in. Arriving back home she approached him with a devilish look on her face, "I've got something special for tonight," she whispered in his ear as he sat on the settee. "Can I see it?" he asked feeling lightly aroused at the thought of her in another skimpy dress. "Not until later!" she teased. "What, when every other guy will be staring at you too? That's not fair!" he protested. "It's totally fair – I'm only going to be returning with you! I'm going to get changed, we have to be at Chloe's for 7." And with that she hopped out of the room. James placed the single can of lager he'd been sipping all afternoon on the side and pondered the night ahead sinking into the couch. The nervy cold feeling in his chest increased as he foresaw images of Claire turning from Jekyll into Hyde, except Hyde was a dance-crazed, flirtatious, nubile young woman who exuded sex. And God, she was sexy. Her shoulder-length brown hair, her creamy skin and smooth, curvaceous body. Any guy would run laps to get her. Increasingly, James suspected he wasn't up to the task. Claire was busy turning herself into James' vision of Hyde upstairs. After around an hour she tiptoed catlike into the front room where he was still sitting. Upon noticing her he involuntarily rose to his feet: she looked stunning, her eyes huge and iridescent. The skimpy black dress was tied around her neck and once around the small of her back, exposing virtually all of it. It was loose and hung low around the front giving an ample view of her perky 34C cleavage. She cut a figure of imposing femininity, her flaming red high-heels matching her lipstick and making her as tall as James at 5,9". He almost couldn't handle her, "You look amazing!" he said breathlessly touching her slim waste. Her smile broadened and she hugged him whispering in his ear, "I can't wait for tonight!" Intoxicated by her sweet perfume James' hands travelled around the bare flesh of her back and he quickly noticed she'd neglected to wear a bra. He was getting aroused and could feel the beginnings of an erection in his jeans. "We can't stay like this forever, you've got to get ready! We've only got half an hour until we need to be at Chloe's" ordered Claire breaking the embrace. James disappointedly left for the bathroom beside himself at how alluring Claire looked. He could already tell tonight was going to be something memorable. A couple of hours later at Chloe's the beer and wine was flowing as much as the laughter and joking. Not really having much of a palette for alcohol James just listened as Claire, Chloe and some other friends he didn't know exchanged stories. He found his eyes continually wandering over Claire and Chloe as they sat next to each other displaying liberal amounts of bare flesh without a second thought. Both of their dresses were as short as each other just barely covering their backsides. Any twirls on the dance floor would offer an eyeful to any looking – and plenty would be. Chloe had invited two male friends who sat on the left of James, one was called Dave, the other, Carrick. James couldn't believe that name, how pretentious it sounded. They were both bigger and quite a lot louder than him too, wearing tight t-shirts showing off the muscles they'd acquired at the gym. And both were unnervingly self-confident and untoward. James thought about the implications of this for his own masculinity, "They're bigger than me, more extroverted, but probably have the combined intelligence of a cabbage. Why should I compare myself to them, I'm far more intelligent." But the thought provided scant comfort. Their boorishness continued as James sat largely ignored by the frantic exchanges of conversation, glances and flirtation going on before him. Claire really had morphed into James' vision of Hyde by now, she was wide-eyed and vivacious, openly flirting with the guys and giggling with Chloe. "So, who are you sleeping with at the moment Chloe?" asked Carrick cheekily grinning with his tanned trunk-like arms folded across his chest. She looked at him with her mouth open in pretend shock. "What's it to you, big guy, think you have a chance?" Suddenly James was intrigued by the conversation. He knew Chloe was hot, her auburn hair hung in lustful curls over her pretty face. She had more of an hourglass figure with bigger boobs than Claire and was known for sleeping around. And she certainly wasn't bashful. "You haven't even been with a man until you've experienced muscles like these!" said Carrick unfolding his arms and tensing his biceps. Chloe and Claire just looked at each other before they burst out laughing. "So are all your muscles that big and strong, Tarquin?" grinned Claire before biting her tongue between her front teeth as she always does when her interest is piqued. "Of course, a stallion like me has stamina. Feel this!" gruffed Carrick offering his bicep to Claire. She reached over with her delicate hand and grabbed the taught bare flesh of his muscle with her mouth slightly agape. "My, my we are a big strong boy!" she exclaimed feeling the heat of lust rise in her cheeks as her eyes locked with Carrick's, aware her boyfriend was watching every move. Chloe burst out laughing again. "Feel it Chloe, it is quite impressive. Maybe you should start going to the gym, James?" Her suggestion to James was met only by silence and a frown. Claire continued to squeeze the muscle for longer than was really necessary as Carrick tensed and re-tensed his bulging biceps for her. "Hey, you can't hog it all night, let me feel!" squealed Chloe in drunken tones as she lurched forward offering quite a sight of her cleavage. "Hey, do you want to feel it too, James?" taunted Chloe before she and Claire burst out in fits of laughter at some tenuous implication James didn't quite understand but which they clearly did. The laughter went on for several minutes to James' mute reaction. An embarrassment burned in him as he squirmed in the chair, victim of their mocking. This is what he was growing to despise about his girlfriend. "We're only kidding!" said Claire trying to calm the waters before Chloe instantly chipped in "I wasn't!" They burst out laughing again. Dave and Carrick looked at each other and shook their heads smiling at the naughty behaviour of the girls. "At least I haven't got a first name like Carrick" muttered James inaudibly under his breath trying to regain some composure. When the giggling stopped and both girls had wiped tears of laughter from their eyes Dave questioned exactly how they were going to get to the club. After much drunken misdirection and fumbling, they eventually rang for a taxi. James had half a mind to tell them to go on ahead, that he'd rather go home and sleep off his troubles. But, he knew this would upset Claire despite the fact that whenever they got to a club he barely saw her again all night. Often, they ended up getting separate rides home, she rolling in good few hours after he'd got home at 4am. He remembered the exact times because she always woke him up and wanted to fuck. It never failed to be an insatiable, hot session and she always tasted like a bewitching cocktail of alcohol, various drugs, cigarettes and lust. He knew that dancing made her horny and that's what she loved most about it. They arrived at the club. It looked huge with loud music pumping from every pour. Every available space was jam-packed with people dancing in the murky atmosphere, half cloaked by the dry ice that plumed out providing relative anonymity for all. James waited to get his ticket as familiar images caught his eyes of people kissing on the dance floor, scantily clad girls dancing in cages, people drunkenly stumbling around and others smoking dubious substances quite openly. His heart rate began to rise and he started to think that it would be better to be completely drunk in a place like this than almost sober. Those same images just seemed to make Claire and Chloe more excited; they were visibly itching to get inside. After acquiring the tickets Claire then turned to James and spoke at him rapidly, "Me and Carrick are going to the sixties lounge, you're going to the eighties lounge, aren't you? I'll come and find you in a bit!" Without waiting for an answer, she kissed James on the forehead and strode away from him dragging Carrick by the hand along with her. Claire could feel her growing lust tingling in her pussy, her nipples swelling and hardening as she thought about dancing erotically with Carrick in the mist. Chloe and Dave headed for the more laid back seventies lounge as James just stood there self-consciously trying to be unself-conscious by himself. He wandered around for half an hour before locating the eighties lounge. They played thumping dance remixes of eighties classics and the room was decorated in a vague eighties style. Presumably, it was the same formula for each subsequent room, James reasoned. He sat in a corner watching as people danced, quietly detesting the whole concept. Little did he know that right at that moment his girlfriend was just getting into her routine on the dance floor in the sixties lounge. Claire Chesterton was gyrating her hips in seemingly impossible motions as she danced with her back to the muscular Carrick Jones. He moved closer so Claire could feel his hard chest against the open back of her dress, his arms encircling her. Despite his proximity, her gyrating never slowed as her ass brushed against his crotch again and again. Carrick's hands moved up her smooth stomach holding her hard against him. Claire loved it. The thought of dancing this erotically with another guy whilst her boyfriend of 18months was somewhere in the building aroused her no end every week. She could feel the wet heat in her crotch as she spun around to face Carrick. As she twirled, her skirt caught the air and rose momentarily exposing one of the slenderest black lace thongs beneath. She spun around several more times fully aware of the view that she was affording many onlookers. Then her eyes came to rest on Carrick's, as she joined her hands behind the back of his neck and danced even more provocatively. Gradually, Claire moved her body closer to his as the music continued to pound. She wanted to see just how far she could push this tonight. Her legs gradually worked in between Carrick's, her hip rubbing against his crotch as they danced. This time she could feel something; he was rock hard beneath his jeans and it certainly wasn't small. She continued to bump and grind against him as Carrick's hands found the silky bare flesh of her back and he glimpsed down the front of her dress. She made no attempt to arrest the progress of this erotic ritual. Her breathing was becoming shallower as she grew in horniness feeling his hands rove and palpate her flesh like her boyfriend had only a matter of hours before at home. They were now so close that Claire's breasts were mashing into Carrick's chest. She let out a slight groan. God she loved dancing. All the while, Carrick's hands were slowly drifting southwards down the back of her dress. He was now using his strong hands to massage her against him. More dancing, then southerly they drifted again as he became more and more daring. Past the equator of her dress then past her thong. Claire's eyes widened with the dangerous sensation and slowly he began to knead her ass cheeks, a hand on each buttock. She groaned again, this time audibly into his ear giving him approval. Claire had never gone this far before, but neither had she been this horny. She was hyper-conscious of the fact that many people would be watching this sexual spectacle by now, one of which could quite easily be her boyfriend. This only seemed to make her rub harder against Carrick. Then, seemingly not of her own volition, she arched her ponytailed head back and looked at Carrick. The smouldering lust and mutual desire was painfully evident in both of them as their eyes dilated to take each other in. He is a handsome and strong man, she thought. And slowly, naturally, their mouths inched toward each other as their eyes closed. It seemed like an eternity, but when his lips finally touched hers it sent an electric charge bolting through her body. Within a couple of seconds they were both writhing on each other in a deep, passionate, forbidden kiss. This was it, the ultimate thrill, Claire thought. How could she be so naughty as to do this to her doting boyfriend who was in the same building? The rampant sparring between their tongues was visible to any outsider. Carrick still held her tight by her buttocks, this time she was grinding her pussy into his hip with abandon stimulating her clitoris. She needed full sex and soon. Could she wait for three hours until she got home to her boyfriend James? She decided that she wouldn't even be able to wait ten minutes and consequently intensified her kiss as their jaws locked. She felt so hot. They seemed to be sucking the life from each other when suddenly Claire felt a strong tap on her shoulder... In that split moment Claire thought she'd been discovered, caught by her boyfriend James. She pivoted around to see the wide-eyed smiles of Chloe and Dave to her left. "Oh my god! What are you doing? What if James sees you, you naughty girl?" asked Chloe in a pseudo-stunned tone that failed to scold. Dave winked at Carrick with a grin, as Carrick snaked his arms back around Claire's waist. Claire was breathing heavily, the lust still burning in her eyes, "James isn't here, is he?" she asked flustered. To her relief James was dropping off in the eighties lounge. Chloe then grabbed Claire by the arm and led her to a marginally quieter area of the club where they could privately confide as women do. Claire instantly began pleading, "Oh Chloe, you know what I'm like!" "You're too horny for your own good, that's your problem!" retorted Chloe before continuing, "Look, I know you love James, but, well, you know my opinion of him. I'd much rather see you with someone like Carrick who can handle and please you. If you want to carry on with Carrick then I'll make sure James is nowhere near the scene. Your secret will be safe with me." Claire looked at her friend in the eyes, her lust once again set alight. Without another word, they hugged and Claire returned to Carrick on the dance floor. Chloe and Dave set out to look for Claire's boyfriend. They found him more or less asleep on a sofa where they thought he'd be. Several guys were making fun of him without his knowledge, putting cocktail sticks in his hair. They were like hyenas, placing something and then jumping back should he wake. Chloe just smirked to herself and decided to dance with Dave in here for a bit so they could keep an eye on James. They made no attempt to stop the people putting things in his spiky hair. James was a handsome guy, and intelligent, Chloe thought, but certainly not the type to keep Claire happy. And who would know better than her best friend? Chloe gradually worked into a routine with Dave on the dance floor. She danced differently to Claire, not quite with the same abandon. Claire seemed to dance as if the world was going to end tomorrow, whereas Chloe was slower, more seductive. It also gave Dave a chance to check out her body as he drunkenly dipped his head to the music with a sole Budweiser held aloft. Back in the sixties room Claire and Carrick had picked up where they had left off. Carrick's hands were back down the rear of her dress as they kissed. This time he was pulling on her thong so it stretched over her pussy stimulating it. Claire knew she couldn't take much more of this. She'd literally been given permission to fuck Carrick by her best friend and she was going to make good on that offer. She was going to cheat on her boyfriend and people would know. The very idea was causing butterflies to flutter in her belly. Claire broke the kiss with Carrick gasping for air. "Is there somewhere we can go?" she asked breathlessly. Carrick smiled a big white grin at her, "They don't monitor the toilets here. At least, not yet." Claire's eyes widened at him causing her heart to skip a beat – go into the toilets? Isn't that illegal? She was now hornier than ever. Carrick's smile widened further like elastic and he grabbed her hand, their fingers interlocking as he led her to one of many toilets. Claire thought she was hyperventilating as they bore down on the gents. She couldn't go in, could she? People would think of her as a pervert. What if James found out? How would she explain it? They reached the door and she was visibly trembling. With a sly look around, Carrick opened it and gripped tightly onto her hand ushering her through. The instant the door closed, the loud music became muffled and the sharp click, clop of high-heels on the tiles of the men's toilets became ominously apparent to Claire. The Exploits of Claire Ch. 01 Two guys were pissing into urinals on her left, one of whom turned around and began whooping and jeering when he noticed her. She watched him pissing as she sheepishly half hid behind Carrick grasping onto his arm as if she might be torn from it. He led her to a cubical and she stepped inside her heart thumping like a boxer. She couldn't believe how dirty she was being. In the men's toilets and about to cheat on her boyfriend, almost paralysed by fear and lust. Her eyes were mad with desire and she hadn't even taken a drug yet. Carrick closed the door and locked it behind him. No way out now. In an instant Carrick and Claire fell into each other in a deep, meaningful kissing her left knee lifting up as Carrick's hands reached under her skirt to grope her ass. This time his hands roved with no restrain quickly finding their way to her vagina, massaging it through the sodden lace of her thong. She groaned loudly into his mouth, "Ummmm." It sounded obscene in the toilets; you could hear the sucking and slurping of their passionate, illicit kisses quite audibly. She pushed harder against Carrick's sculpted chest. Claire then broke the kiss and seductively raised her hands behind her neck and untied her dress. It fell down baring her magnificent moulded breasts to him. Then she undid it around her waist. The entire thing slinked to the floor covering her red toenails and 4" heels. She stepped out of it, now just wearing her scandalously skimpy thong. Carrick unpeeled his t-shirt revealing a rippling mass of toned flesh to Claire's excitement before dropping the t-shirt on the toilet seat. She leaned forward panting like a dog, undid the buckle of his belt and pulled his pants down. Was this really going to happen, she thought as she stared at the member in his briefs straining for freedom. Her nipples were like bullets. Unrepentantly, she yanked the briefs down. Yes, this was going to happen! It sprung into view, all eight inches of it, her jaw dropping and lips quivering at the size and girth. She had never seen one so big. Slowly she crouched on her knees almost in praise of it as she moved her mouth closer and closer before making eye contact with Carrick. He could feel her hot breathe on his stiffening member. Those innocent brown eyes flickered as she took it and placed it at the entrance to her full red lips. "Come on honey, I know you want it" growled Carrick as he lent back on the cubical door. "Mark my words, you'll never go back to James after this." She shuddered at the mention of her boyfriend whom she was now in the process of cheating on. Her mouth opened and it entered the warm, wet orifice. No going back as it touched the roof of her throat. Her red lips then clamped around it and she began to jerk her head back and forth leaving lewd lipstick marks down the shaft, all the while maintaining an unshakable eye contact with Carrick. As her head sped up and the sucking noises became louder with the moans, her mind couldn't escape the fact that she was cheating, that her boyfriend was somewhere in the building whilst she sucked another man's larger cock. It was this thought that made her groan the most. She slurped, sucked and kissed the shaft often taking time to lick the purple head with her tongue. "Oh, you're good at this. You don't know how long I've wanted you, Claire" Carrick writhed. Back in the eighties room Chloe and Dave were consumed in each other also, now kissing on the dance floor, eyes closed. It was at this point that James was beginning to stir. He jolted to causing cocktail sticks and other party paraphernalia to fall from his head into his lap. He also felt a pressing need in his bladder, so he got up and walked bleary eyed towards the toilets. Chloe and Dave were oblivious. He entered the toilets, relieved himself and then left. Once outside he looked at his watch, given to him by Claire: quarter to two. It was now time to leave, but first, he must try to find his girlfriend. Failing that, he would just leave. This was the part of the night he loathed the most: tired, and searching among the dancing zombies for his other half. He didn't understand her compulsion to be with them at all, she was at least as intelligent as he; they both had degrees from the same respectable university. What's wrong with doing something cultured, he thought as he searched around the various rooms. James entered the sixties area and saw various couples kissing on the floors. He half eyed them suspiciously, wondering if one of them was Claire. She may be flirtatious but she's mine, he reassured himself. James was just about to leave the entire place when he saw Dave enter the toilets to his left next to the bar. James dashed towards the toilet and slipped through the door just before it shut, "Hey Dave, have you seen Claire anywhere around?" In the third cubical along Claire froze with fear at the sound of her boyfriend's voice in the same toilet as her whilst she was on her knees sucking another man's cock! "Er, no man, I haven't seen her. Try ringing her mobile" Dave replied in that rambling, indifferent voice of his. "Yeah, but she'll never hear it. Ah, I may as well try, I can always say I tried to call her." Claire quickly took the saliva-covered cock from her mouth and tried to fumble in her handbag for her phone before it rang. Too late. The device lit up and the message across the screen read, "James calling." Time seemed to stand still. Then the phone started vibrating in her hand; she'd set it to vibrate instead of ring. She looked up at Carrick suppressing a laugh with a nervous quivering hand at how dangerously close she'd come to being discovered. Breathing heavily, she stood up looking at Carrick whose face had actually broken from something other than complete self-importance to a look of mild concern. His glistening penis still stood in front of him proudly pointing at Claire's lace covered crotch. She stared down at it contemplating their position. A minute passed in silence before an idea struck her and she licked her lips. Claire took the tumescent member in her right hand and began stroking it as her left slipped her thong to the side revealing her swollen, shaven pussy. Panting again, she placed it between her labia and ever so gently began to push. The member began to disappear enveloped in her folds. Her hands searched for something to hold onto, eventually grappling onto the flesh of Carrick's back for support. "Well, I'm not waiting around here for her," her boyfriend continued the other side of the slim panel. If only he could have seen through the cubical wall to the obscene visage beyond of his girlfriend forcing Carrick's penis into her pussy and loving it. "Where's Chloe?" continued James as Claire lifted up her leg and sunk all the way down on Carrick's large prick. She bit her lower lip to keep herself from groaning in excruciating pleasure. It was the perfect size, big enough to stretch her but not so big that it would hurt. Carrick lifted her up off the floor, her legs locking around his waste as he slowly began to pump her. "She's in the eighties room, I think" answered Dave. "Eighties! I thought she hated eighties music" James replied a little shocked. Claire used the door as leverage to lower her plum of an ass up and down on Carrick. She couldn't believe how erotic she found it to cheat on her boyfriend when she could hear him so nearby. A huge orgasm was already welling up deep within her as her breathing became more and more uneven, it was all becoming too much. And then she groaned. She instantly covered her mouth with her hand after she'd done it. Betrayed by her body again. "I guess you don... what was that noise?" asked Dave breaking off. "I didn't hear anything," said James. Carrick was now tired of messing around. He'd wanted to fuck this bird since he met her and nothing, not even her puny boyfriend was going to stop him now. Claire whispered, "slow down!" in his ear as he sped up, "I can't take it, noooooooo!" But Carrick wouldn't hear of it, he started pumping her as if his life depended on it. And so, the slurping and slapping noises of sex filled the room. James and Dave looked at each other grinning. "Looks like someone's getting laid in the cubical! Ha ha" laughed Dave, his face suddenly breaking out into life. Carrick frantically humped Claire's pussy, stretching it around his cock. It was too much for her. "Ooowwwwwww, ah, ah, uh, uh, uh" she grunted letting go of all inhibitions, not caring whether her boyfriend heard her. Dave and James looked at each other wide-eyed. "We better let them get to it!" smiled James clearly not recognising the strained grunts of his own girlfriend over the muffled dance music as she was being ploughed by Carrick a matter of feet away. They left the toilets. By now Claire's toes were curling into her high-heels and she was creating deep scratch marks across Carrick's back. "Oh god!" she screamed. Carrick was on the edge of a massive orgasm himself but he managed to force some words out through his gritted teeth, "You loved it, being fucked while your boyfriend was a couple of yards away!" "Oh yeah, fuck me, fuck me in front of my boyfrieeeeeeendd. Oh James come back, I'm being fucked by Carriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick!" she cried at the top of her voice. There was no more she could take as a humungous orgasm washed over her. Her body shook like a rag doll, "OOOOOOOOOOohhhhhhhhhhhhwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! I'm cuuuuummming!" Claire bucked and bucked, buckling his large erect cock in her contorted pussy, milking it for all its worth as the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced shook her core. With a few more thrusts Carrick's dick spasmed and shot load after load of cum into her willing womb. They both collapsed against the cubical door with a loud shudder, panting heavily, covered in thin film of sweat. James had absolutely no idea that he had just told his own girlfriend and Carrick, a man he didn't even know, to get on with fucking each other in the toilets. Indeed, this thought placated and aroused Claire in equal measure as she thought more and more about it. She and Carrick managed to sneak out of the toilets unseen and meet up with Dave, Chloe and James around 10 minutes after the illicit fuck. Because Claire's lipstick had smudged sucking Carrick's cock, she'd had to just wipe it all off being unable to find her own. Fortunately for her, only Chloe noticed this with a sly grin and a whisper in the ear on the way home, "Why no lipstick Claire, what are you trying to cover up, hmm?" Chloe had also noticed the blood stains on the back of Carrick's t-shirt from Claire's impassioned grips, "I take it you had a, ahem, passionate time tonight then Claire?" Chloe asked in the taxi. Claire just nodded with a big grin; still very aware that her pussy was full of Carrick's cum. James looked at them both inquisitively. Claire could tell this was going to happen again and again and again. That night, she basically resigned herself to the fact that she was going to get caught fucking someone behind James' back eventually. Later rather than sooner. (c) RothkoJamesHart 2005 The Exploits of Claire Ch. 02 -- Please do not read this story if you do not like the theme of cheating partners. If you read this story regardless and then tell me to burn in hell, I'll assume that you secretly enjoyed it and are ashamed of yourself. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Read chapter one if you want this to make more sense... -- It was Monday dinnertime and Claire had agreed to meet Chloe, her best friend, at the Cafemet during her lunch hour. It had been two days since she'd cheated for the first time on her boyfriend, James. Chloe knew all about it, and in fact, had encouraged it. "So when are you going to tell him its over?" asked Chloe surprising Claire as she sat clutching many assorted bags of shopping. She peeked over her dark sunglasses at her childhood friend waiting for a response. Claire winced at the masses of Selfridges bags, "I see you've been hard at work!" "You haven't told him, have you?" asserted Chloe incisively. "No." Claire wistfully looked down at her latte, stirring the last dregs in the bottom with the plastic spoon. Chloe took breath to speak but Claire interrupted, "I'm not going to. I, I care about him." She sounded like she was still persuading herself. "So why did you cheat on him, then?" retorted Chloe. She'd never really had any patience when it came to James and his cerebral way of life and she'd be damned if Claire was going to throw her life away with him. "Because," Claire paused. "Well, I just, I didn't meant to, it was just..." She faltered again looking up at the pale ceiling, eyes transfixing on a darkened stain around one of the chrome lights. Chloe decided to lay the law down to her stumbling friend, "Every week it's the same thing; you get drunk, you go out and you dance all night with some guy who is not your boyfriend. Each week you've got more and more daring until finally you had sex with one of them!" Claire was struck like a deer in the headlights as Chloe continued, "It's plain to me that you want to have some fun; you don't want the commitment of a boyfriend. You want to go out every week and pick up a different guy and have a wild time. You're 23, there's plenty of time to settle down!" Chloe removed her designer sunglasses, replacing them in their leather pouch, as Claire again searched the room for something to look at trying to mask her rising emotion. "I know you care about James and live with him, but you can't stay and cheat on him." At this last statement Claire found her eyes meeting Chloe's. Silence. "What? Are you going to stay with him and cheat on him?" Chloe choked. Claire exhaled heavily but didn't answer, eyes searching the room again. She began to wonder about James, whether she did actually care for him. Too many times during social occasions James remained the silent party. In fact, that's what initially attracted her to him. Every other guy gave her all she needed to know within the first five minutes of meeting her. But James wouldn't give anything away; it was like he was on the other side of a soundproof pane of glass, mainly because he refused to get drunk. Claire remembered the months just after they'd met, how she had showered him with letters and phone calls to get him to open up. He didn't reciprocate at first, but he did give her the time to express herself to him like a friend. "I do love him," she whimpered, staring glazed beyond the table. That sounded like the first genuine comment. "You know how it is when we're drunk. We think things, do things, make promises that will never be kept" contemplated Claire wistfully. "It's not me. Or at least not the greater part of me." She continued, "I become destructive, I deliberately risk the things I treasure the most, just for the thrill of it." Her eyes were engorged and brown as she bit at her fat bottom lip. Chloe angled her head slightly, "So what are you going to do next time you're drunk?" "I'll have to try and keep control. I can do it." Claire's tone was a determined whisper. "Sure you will. I love you Claire, but you're a really mixed up person!" lamented Chloe. Not for one second did Chloe believe she was going to keep her word. Claire was like this all the time making whimsical promises one moment, then breaking them the next. No matter how sincere she seemed, Chloe knew her better. That evening Claire arrived home from work. The apartment was deserted, its wood brick floors reflecting every slight noise cavernously. She kicked off her shoes, collapsed on the settee, drew her smooth legs up beside her and switched on the TV with a sigh. James wouldn't be home until at least 10. He'd had an interview for a potential new job 2 weeks ago and the manager wanted to get to know him in a more informal surrounding. Around 2 weeks previous to that James had given up his stable 9-5 job in favour of pursuing his dream of writing; any sort of writing that sparked his esoteric imagination, as long as it wasn't the drudgery of predictable work. This gave Claire time to think. While her heart made her feel guilty for betraying James, the thought of the way she'd done it still ignited an inferno of raw nerves and lust deep within her. She felt that uncontrollable feeling welling around her thighs. Closing her eyes, she clenched her legs together trying to make the feeling dissipate. No, you can't keep acting on your impulses, she kept thinking. 20 past 5 slowly turned into 6 o'clock. She put her tea in the oven. The illicit thoughts kept recurring: fragmented blurry images of Carrick, dancing with him, feeling his hard biceps in front of James. 7 o'clock: his hands roving down the back of her dress, kneading her ass cheeks, she took her tea out of the oven. 8 o'clock: wantonly kissing him on the dance floor, being unfaithful, still picking at the cold remains of her lasagne. It would be so easy to slip her hand between her legs to relieve herself of the ghosts that haunted. But that would be too much like cheating again. She hadn't really thought about her illicit act in the toilets with Carrick since it happened. Claire figured it was down to the fact that she'd only just managed to recover from the fug of hangover this morning. The more and more her clarity returned however, the worse she felt. She glanced at the clock again – 8:30pm. Time was slowing down. It was hell being in her own skin, it felt dirty, unclean like the devil had tricked her into selling her soul and was now waving it in her face with a smirk. And the feeling of lust in the pit of her stomach continued to gnaw. She gave an anguished look around the clean, modern apartment room. Her knickers had been wet for the past 3 hours, as thoughts of Carrick returned like a rocketing comet. She tried to inspect her well-manicured fingernails perched on her thigh but found no interest in it. Subconsciously, she moved her hand further up her leg, pawing at herself causing the feeling grew more intense. Turning to the TV, she tried to concentrate on that. It lasted barely 60 seconds. She closed her eyes again. Carrick was there, they were in the club toilets, and she was nervously but lustily feeling his hard rippling chest as she sank to her knees. "No, you've got to stop these thoughts!" she protested to herself aloud. She could hear James outside the toilets asking for her. Without a second thought for him, she ripped Carrick's boxer shorts down and enveloped his veiny, hard member with her ravenous, expert mouth. Her breathing became more purposeful as she lay there. Her hunched up legs instinctively parted slightly as her toes curled. No, she couldn't do it; she couldn't act on these impulses, no! Was she so weak? Her hands ached to touch herself as the TV flickered to her side. The anxiety was killing her. She couldn't take any more. "Oh for god's sake!" she breathed impatiently, before reaching beneath her skirt with her left hand to yank her lacy blue knickers to the side. Two forefingers traced her swollen entrance, before probing deeply into her willing pussy. In sexual release, she tossed her head back, her free flowing mahogany hair dropping back over her porcelain face. Her right hand massaged and worked away in circular motions, buried in the sweaty heat of her own flesh, tweaking those sensitive areas. With her forefingers embedded, she pressed her thumb onto her engorged clitoris. The yearning touch caused her to inhale sharply. This wasn't simply masturbation, it was an expressed desire to cheat again. In her mind's eye, she was on her knees in the toilets lewdly and unrepentantly plunging her head up and down Carrick's rock-hard penis leaving streak marks of lipstick along the shaft. She imagined her loving boyfriend wondering where she was, what she was doing, only a matter of feet away. "How could I be so horrible?" she thought before adroitly arching her back and whisking off her knickers, flinging them to the floor. She unbuttoned her silky cream work blouse exposing her 34c bosom embroidered in a navy blue bra. Her left hand slipped beneath the lace-flowered fabric to pinch the nub of her hardening nibble as her right found its rhythm again between her legs. She let out a soft, sensual groan of longing. Her shapely, toned limbs spread out and she wiggled her toes in delight, with their blood red nails gleaming in evil intent. The entirety of Claire's body was a vessel of pleasure and release, curled no longer by anxiety or denial. She mouthed his name under her breath as the scenes in her head progressed and her right hand sent shockwaves of pleasure dancing up her spine. Behind closed eyes Carrick had picked her up from the floor and planted her firmly on his penis, his strong, muscular arms holding her firm as his pelvis pumped deeply into her expanding pussy mouth. Claire groaned louder over the sound of the television, "Oh, Carrick, fuck meeeeeeee!" Her hips gyrated as her fingers tried vainly to replicate the fullness of Carrick's hard 8 inch penis. Her cheeks were flushed red with illicit fantasy as her fingers began to make slurping noises in her weeping pussy. An orgasm was building up; she could feel its onset, the event horizon and inevitable black hole of her own character. Carrick's eyes bulged as she imagined him cumming too, his semen hitting her cervix as he slammed into her with James outside asking what's going on, suspecting his girlfriend was being fucked in the toilets. The thought of James suspecting something, when in reality that night he suspected nothing, propelled her closer to the edge. Her mind fast-forwarded to later that Saturday night, back at home with James, having freshly cheated on him. He had expected to have sex with her, like they normally do after a night out, but she refused, excusing herself to the toilet to make double sure she was up-to-date with her birth control pills. She straddled the toilet and stuck her fingers inside her vagina trying to coax out as much of Carrick's seed as possible, just in case James insisted on having sex with her. That was the clinching thought; her hips bucked, her back arched and her head buried in the cushions as the tingles of static electricity sparked and fizzed along every nerve in her body. She bucked and twinged for the next minute or so before her consciousness slowly returned. As it was, James didn't insist on having sex with her that night, and was sound asleep when she re-entered the room. It was 9:45pm when she decided to go to bed, having remembered to retrieve her knickers from the front room floor. Feelings of guilt, however, soon began to wash over her in heavy persistent waves. Maybe sleep will anaesthetise it, she reasoned. Her mind, however, was taunting with increasingly uncomfortable thoughts. She loved her boyfriend – why would she do this? Undressing, Claire dropped her clothes where she stood. How could she be so disgusting, emptying herself of one man's seed, just in case she'd have to take another? How could this happen? Did she have so little self-respect? The cold bed offered no warmth as she submerged into its depth. She grappled the pillow close to her chest, burying herself facedown in it. The inquisition continued, why was she slave to the demands of her body? Why couldn't she remain faithful to James?! What had he ever done to her? After a couple of minutes the material became wet with her tears. The icy feelings of self-loathing froze through. Still, the riot in her mind wouldn't quieten. She thought of James, those memories that made them boyfriend and girlfriend. She remembered how she used to harangue him about his telescope when they were still at university. More tears. He'd tried to keep it hidden, as he was ashamed of his interest in astronomy whilst everyone else loved going out and getting plastered. That was the first time they kissed, after he reluctantly sat her down in front of it and showed her his favourite places in the sky. She often said being in James' room was like being in a bubble unreachable by conventional means. No one ever rang; there was no TV, just soft music, shadows, warmth and dim light. Frequently, the room was strewn with his writing and sketches in various forms. He often looked dazed and ruffled, half asleep during these times. It still felt like she was in his bubble now as she lay in their bed, in his apartment. But, instead of it feeling like a privileged comfort, it made her feel like a traitor, a whore in the convent. Around midnight, James arrived home and rolled into bed. Claire was still awake, and without lifting her head above the line of the quilt she placed it immediately on his warm chest. Slowly all those caustic thoughts stopped and sleep descended. This is what her boyfriend could do for her. James couldn't help but smile at how tight their embrace was when he awoke the next morning. It was as if she was clamped to him and would never let go, like a fearful little girl to her father. He traced the lightly tanned skin of her shoulder blade with his fingertips savouring how alive and tender her body felt. Its vibrant heat pulsated outward from every pour scenting the sheets with her being. He loved the smell of her, that distinctive musk which always drew him near. It reminded him of her large eyes of contrasting blacks and browns. He wanted to see them now, but she insisted on keeping her face nuzzled in his chest. He knew she was upset. Sometimes its better not to ask, he thought. So he reflected on the previous night with his new boss, how Tony had seemed pretty impressed with his outlook. Tony was one of those chairmen who had so much money they could afford whatever venture flighted their fancy. He'd had had the idea of several ongoing novels to be published in a monthly magazine. It was meant to be subversive, reminiscent of the values of many beat writers like Alexander Trocchi. Anthony had been impressed with the obscure visions James had put down on paper. He was warned however; the job wouldn't pay an awful lot to begin with. But at least it wasn't 9-5 James thought smirking as if he'd somehow managed to con life, to sidestep true responsibility, at least for a bit. 9 o'clock had arrived and it became apparent that Claire wasn't going to go to work. When James tried to make the motions to move, she gripped him tighter, vice-like. She must be really upset, he thought. By 10 o'clock, she was still moping in bed after James had disentangled himself from her needy arms. He was still ambivalent about asking her what was wrong. Maybe she'd volunteer the information if he asked her how she felt? She didn't emerge until 11. "No work for you today then? Are you feeling alright?" he asked. Claire studied his face deciding how to take his comments as she propped against the doorway. "Yeah, I'm okay. I just didn't feel well last night" she replied turning for the kitchen. Having taken her time to regain some self-control she felt able to deal with the world on her terms again. "Are you sure?" he questioned, appearing behind her. She studied his faint concerned reflection in the window for a few seconds before turning to him with a smile. Placing her arms around the back of his head she insisted, "Yes, I feel fine now! Maybe we should make something of today? It's looking nice outside." James' brow furrowed as she hugged him. Over her shoulder he mulled the strange sensation that his girlfriend was somehow insincere, holding something back... The Exploits of Claire Ch. 03 -- Please do not read this story if you do not like the theme of cheating partners. If you read this story regardless and then tell me to burn in hell, I'll assume that you secretly enjoyed it, but are ashamed of yourself. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Read chapter's one and two if you want this to make more sense. -- Three weeks passed as autumn's collage of reds broke down into winter's dustsheet grey. Remarkably for Claire, she'd had little contact with Chloe over the past month. That was about to change, however. A week before Halloween Chloe contacted Claire, and from the squeals emanating from the living room, James could tell that some form of party was being organised. A look of dread clouded over him as he sat typing up his latest masterpiece. He had to file his story for the first edition of the magazine by Friday, which incidentally, would be the day after Halloween. It wasn't going well. The usual exuberance he imbued his stories with had dried up, and he felt the pressure of having to perform manifesting itself in predictable Subject-Verb-Object sentences. Or maybe he was letting his perfectionist nature get the better of him? Soon Claire arrived in the room hovering around him eager to deliver the 'good' news, "We've been invited to a house party at Chloe's for Halloween. It's fancy dress; you'll need something to wear!" she giggled excitedly. "Why did parties get her so excited?" he wondered. "There's no way of getting out of this, is there?" he asked, trying to evoke some sympathy through his studious glasses as he looked up from the desk. Claire mouthed the words "no way" at him playfully. Despite her vivacious façade, she still hadn't managed to vanquish the demons troubling her. One of those demons, she was sure, had tempted her into cheating on her boyfriend. Then suddenly she realised: Carrick could very well be at this party! She must talk to Chloe to make sure he isn't. The following day Chloe and Claire went out to get their costumes. The search, however, proved futile. Every single garment they came across was too tacky or too cheap for either of them to consider wearing. In fact, the two women were playing off each other: when one liked a costume, the other one deliberately disliked it. As they were shopping Claire took the opportunity to ask Chloe whether Carrick was going to attend. "No, no, he's got something planned that night. He's not turning up – I did invite him. Did you want him to be there, Claire?" she taunted. "No!" Claire protested but a little glint in her eye gave her away. "Don't worry, I won't tell James that you want the guy you fucked last month to be at my party!" retorted Chloe sarcastically. Claire glowered. Eventually the girls decided that the best way for them to get a costume was to order it, that way they couldn't go back on the decision. The order would arrive the day before Halloween. Chloe ordered a skin-tight PVC cat costume whilst Claire ordered a short, sexy witch costume. Both of the models in the catalogue looked sluttish modelling the clothes, as Chloe pointed out with relish. Faced with the daunting task of finding his own apparel, James decided to order his with them as well, settling on a classic vampire costume. Thursday rolled around quickly. James had finished the story, but wasn't happy with it. He submitted it anyway complaining that it didn't really subvert bland reality like he had hoped. The costumes had arrived the night before and were at Chloe's place. James strolled into the kitchen, "So when does the party to end all parties begin?" Claire was eating her tea perched on a stool. "In two hours" she said with a mouth full of pasta, "We'd better get going. My dress might not even fit!" She grabbed her plate and whilst still eating, headed for the bathroom. She scuttled past James as he lamented that she could be much more than a simple office worker. He stood thinking statically for a moment before finding his reflection in the window, the dark night beyond. The man looking back was of average size, with spikey dark hair and cutting angled eyebrows. A pretty boy, maybe they'd say. He smiled exaggeratedly and began to speak to himself, "Hello Chloe, how are you tonight? Is that a catwoman costume...? I always thought you were a bit of a cow mys..." "James?" yelled Claire from the bathroom breaking off James' conversation with himself, "Can you give Chloe a ring and tell her we'll be there in 30 minutes?" He sighed, grabbed the phone and dialled her number heavy-handedly. Claire and James arrived just after 8pm to 10 minutes of perfunctory, over-exclamated greetings and opening drinks before heading into a back room to get changed. Chloe had a nice house, "apart from some of the upper rooms, which are strewn with mess." She never neglected to mention that bit as if it was a warning never to go up there. She'd come into a decent inheritance after the death of her wealthy father, part of which was this airy, old, Victorian era 3-storey building with tall ceilings. James thought that it had a hell of a lot more class than its inhabitant and verbalised as much to Claire. She admonished him with a mandatory "How dare you!" as she pulled on her dress. James was already in his vampire costume, perched on the end of the guest bed contemplating the night ahead. "Tights or stockings?" she asked. He stood up and looked at the dress. Arching his back slightly, he found that he could see her pastel pink knickers beneath it with no trouble at all. Thinking about it for a second, he plumped for tights. Normally, he would have said stockings, but envisioning the sight she would offer many people later on when drunk, made him consider her respectability. "Chloe would have said stockings." Claire reflected, as she sat to slide on the black nylon undergarment. James thought it better to keep his mouth shut rather than make another snide comment about Chloe. Instead he sucked on his plastic fangs, swallowing the excess saliva that had been collecting around them. Claire stood and perched her pointed hat on her head looking sultry. Her eyelids were coated in thick black eyeliner and her lips glistened with black lipstick. She looked like a 17 year old goth as she blew a kiss at James. He groaned in vampyric desire for her through his fake fangs. Guests were already milling around, congregating in the rather large living room from where the music was pumping. Chloe's extended social network never ceased to amaze James. He suspected the place would be crawling with media-types she'd sucked up to, or sucked off, in some pretentious cocaine and neon addled lounge. Pretty quickly he and Claire got separated in the crowd as Claire found lost long friends and instantly picked up wherever they had left off. There were far too many people to all be housed by the living room, and as a result, the party quickly spilled out into the adjoining kitchen, before spreading to the halls and upstairs like a rampant infection. The atmosphere was becoming humid with the heat of many bodies in an enclosed space. After five minutes, James had left the throngs of partiers for the comparative calm of the kitchen and was searching in the cupboards for something else to drink besides Budweiser, which he considered to taste like cat's urine. He discovered an unopened, expensive looking bottle of port. It looked like Chloe had been saving it for a special occasion. He smirked as he opened it and poured himself a glass figuring that no one would know who drank it. One glass turned into three, and before long, a two-thirds bottle sat beside his spinning head. He started to feel very pleased with himself, considering it quite an accomplishment to go 40 minutes without interacting with another soul in possibly the most difficult place in the world not to interact. Having missed his tea meant the alcohol had double the effect. He lethargically and jovially strolled towards the action in the living room but along the way somehow got entangled in an argument with two guys over whether Mary Poppins would have made a good lay in her hey day. A part of him enjoyed talking absolute rubbish to people he didn't know, especially when the meaningless discussion became genuinely confrontational. Interacting with people is certainly a lot easier when you're drunk, he thought. Several conversations about nothing passed before he strolled into the main hub of the party at 12:32am holding a glass of red wine. He caught Claire's eye as she stood in the corner in deep conversation with some tall guy in a skeleton costume. James spied her and stumbled over to them narrowly avoiding a collision with several tables and people. He arrived by bumping into the skeleton who halted his conversation in a contemptuous glare at James. Claire observed her boyfriend for a few seconds. "Are you drunk?!" she gasped in disbelief. James jerked his head up and down with exaggerated enthusiasm, "Yep, and what of it?" he spat. Claire had hardly ever experienced him drunk, and from his aggressive nature, she didn't like it much. Turning to Clark she decided to ignore him, "Anyway Clark, you were saying..." "Clark!" James scoffed before the man could open his mouth. Claire shot him a solar flare but James continued, "that names' almost as bad as that other guy you know, what's his name – Carrick!" He laughed more. "Jesus, I feel sorry for you mate!" said James as he sarcastically patted Clark on the shoulder. As he walked away his cape caught on several beer bottles on the table. Totally oblivious, he dragged them all to the floor causing them to shatter. "The joke's on you, mate" Claire thought to herself as she watched him stumble from the room. It was now up to her and Clark to clean up the mess he'd ignorantly made before someone got hurt. She crouched to pick up the broken glass. "Who was that dickwad?" asked the lanky Clark holding a bin bag open for her to place the mess in. As she squatted, Clark could see straight down her top. "Nobody!" she stated sternly before insisting that he continue the conversation as if James had never appeared. Half an hour later James was walking around looking for people to antagonise. He'd refilled his glass with claret as if it was fuel for his scorn. Claire was still in conversation with Clark, but had ushered him near to the entrance of the packed room, where they were concealed behind a curtain of people so James couldn't interrupt again. It was from this vantage point that her heart almost stopped upon seeing who had just walked in. Carrick and David strode into the room with unnerving arrogance each brandishing Buds like precious weapons. Neither of them were in fancy dress, sporting their regulation skin tight t-shirts and faded blue jeans. Carrick took seat in a big leather recliner only 7 or 8 yards away, every bit as bulky and muscle-bound as Claire vividly remembered. Her heart was in her mouth, and she found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on what Clark was saying. Her eyes kept wandering over Carrick's body - as much as it was visible between the dalliances of bodies in front of her. Her pussy began to tingle as a torch was introduced to the bonfire of illicit ideas in her mind. Then James entered like a fire blanket, with no less arrogance than Carrick and Dave. He looked around purposefully but drunkenly, quite a sight shorter and thinner than either of the two body builders. Claire hunched behind some people losing sight of Carrick as Clark continued to mumble about autumn in Switzerland. What was Carrick doing here? Was this one of Chloe's tricks? Claire wasn't as drunk as her boyfriend, but she was tipsy enough to be teetering on the brink between self-control and impulse. Carrick looked great as he sat there; his tanned skin and muscular body had her head in a spin. She thought about the many times she'd fantasised about him since the last time they met, and now he was right there, her dreams come alive! If she made a move, he'd accept, she was sure. A gulp of anticipation stuck in her throat. Maybe Chloe was right, maybe she really did need something like that, something that James couldn't provide? Part of what was good about James was that she felt equal to him on every level, but that didn't satisfy her. Sometimes, possibly most of the time, she needed to be taken by a man, and Carrick was the ideal of virile man. James appealed to her mind, but Carrick appealed to her body. And Claire's drunken states usually tapped into that unquenchable physical desire. "Claire!" repeated Clark looking at her. "You're miles away. I'm going to have to go now." She smiled and looked up at the tall man whose dark brown eyes beamed back at her, "I'm sorry I was thinking about somebody else." "Somebody special?" enquired Clark. She grinned at him, "Sort of." Before he left, she gave him a kiss on the cheek ordering him to contact her so they could catch up properly. Claire then set off to find Chloe, consciously avoiding James and Carrick. After searching the main halls and rooms in vain she started checking the adjoining ones. Chloe was to be found flushed and draped across a bed in an upstairs bedroom 10 minutes later. "What have you been doing?" Claire asked with implication. "Oh, I just felt a little hot. And drunk. There's no one else in here, if that's what you're thinking!" asserted Chloe. Claire returned to the topic causing her the biggest headache, "I've just seen Carrick! Did you know he would be here?!" Chloe lethargically flapped her hand, "I didn't have any idea. Is Dave here too? Looks like you'll be heading for some fun tonight, anyway!" "I told you I'm not going to do anything with Carrick," she exclaimed. "Yes Dave is here, he's with Carrick in the front room... Are you okay?" "Yeah, a little too much to drink, I guess." Chloe answered. "Your hostess will be back amongst you all in 10 minutes or so..." Claire was about to exit the room, when the adjoining bathroom door to the right of the bed opened and a handsome young man with a towel wrapped around his waste stepped out and looked at the two brunettes. Chloe shifted on the bed to look at him before glancing at Claire and bursting out into laughter in her inimitable, vivacious fashion. Claire exhaled a smile at her friend before winking at Chloe and running her eyes over the blond stud. "Oh, can I leave my handbag in here?" she asked turning back halfway through the door. "Sure" replied Chloe. Claire hunched the strap off her shoulder and set it down on the chest of drawers. She closed the door giving one last appreciative glance at Chloe's partner and walked across the landing to the toilet. Her head was still spinning with the confusion of the night as she sat on the shut toilet seat: why was James acting so strangely? Why is he so drunk? What's Carrick doing here? What will I say to him if we meet? She almost didn't want to leave the bathroom because of the growing entanglement downstairs. A knock on the door and an impatient female, "How long are you going to be?" roused her from her problems, however. Claire exited, awkwardly sidestepping the woman who needed the bathroom. She had just turned for the stairs when Carrick rounded the corner at the bottom. His face immediately broke into a grin upon seeing her above him like a dark angel. Nervousness took hold of her body - what was she going to say?! All thoughts evaporated from her head as Carrick ascended. She smiled wobbily at him, finding it difficult to make eye contact, offering a single dippy "Hi." "I was hoping I'd meet you here. Are you still with that James?" he questioned unabashedley watching her face for every expression. She shrunk against the wall beneath his bulky shadow. "Yeah, w-we're still together." Her heart was beating ever faster. Carrick moved onto the same step and leaned against the wall opposite. "You look stunning tonight, Claire." She looked at up at him, unable to keep her eyes from his broad chest sculptured by the taught t-shirt. "Thanks," she said under her breath. The longer her eyes took in Carrick's being the bigger they grew. She was so attracted to this man; it awakened a deep-seated lust in her that she'd never known with James. Her feet shifted over each other in her stiletto-healed knee-high boots. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since The Temple" offered Carrick referring to their illicit act in the toilets of The Temple nightclub. Her mind told her that Carrick probably told all the women this, but her heart didn't want to listen. She gasped, "Really?" "Yeah, of course" he insisted. Claire felt herself believing him like a naïve schoolgirl experiencing her first crush. Carrick sensed the growing intensity between them and he stepped up the stairs and stood next to her, giving himself a good view into her eyes and cleavage. She was fully aware of the view she was affording him. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Can you believe we did it in the toilets?!" A heat arose in her cheeks. "Your boyfriend was outside!" Carrick stroked her forearm. And she wasn't stopping him; it felt tender. Her eyes traced his chiselled square jaw, tinglings of lust forming like dew. His hand stopped stroking and snaked around her slim waste, pulling her closer. She felt her knees becoming weak as her hip touched his crotch. She pulled away hesitantly. "What's wrong Claire?" he whispered picking up on the conflicted vibes from her. "At The Temple you were insatiable, now you're all subdued. Become a free spirit again!" he hissed. She looked curiously at him, "its just...James is acting weird, he's got drunk. I've never known him so drunk before, and he's really pissed me off!" Anger surfaced before she paused to recollect herself, "and now you're here to complicate matters." Carrick could see the effect he was having on the attached young, nubile woman. She kept dipping her head momentarily masking her shadowy eyes beneath a cloak of impenetrably black hair. He grabbed her hand announcing, "I've got just the thing!" before starting up the stairs with her in tow. After a short search for an empty room, one was found strewn in dust and old boxes. It had no carpet down and the bulb fizzed out when they tried to turn on the light but this didn't matter much, as the moonlight streaming through the curtainless window in great shafts cloaked everything in an ambient electro blue. As Claire's eyes acclimatised to the dim light, she watched Carrick fumbling in his pockets. Out came a clear plastic pouch containing weed, which she recognised instantly. He laid it on top of a cardboard box before fumbling in his other tight pocket for the skins and lighter. She bit her lipstick blackened lower lip in anticipation causing a bit of it to stick to her two front teeth. "This is skunk," he proclaimed proudly. "It may be a bit stronger than what you're normally used to." Claire had smoked weed many times but her reaction to it was mixed. Sometimes it would make her feel placid and sexy, but other times nothing seemed to happen. She'd never tried skunk before but demonstrated a youthful interest in it, founded on the thought that the substance might ease her overactive mind. Carrick rolled the drug up lovingly - if he'd had a magnifying glass handy he would surely have put it to good use. All the while Claire was being harangued by duplicitous thoughts; she knew James would like this room, or at least he would if he was sober. And now she was in here with Carrick. Again the feeling of guilt that had been her nemesis for the past month began to flow – it had certain victories to its name, when she caved into lust, but she could also claim to have resisted her desires more than once, even if she did think about Carrick when having sex with James.