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Wilson's Web

By: Octavian



I am indebted to Softtouch911 for his great help and support whilst I was writing this story, and also to Pookie for her very constructive comments.

Chapter 1

I cradled our newborn baby girl in my arms, marvelling at the miniature perfection of her fingernails, as her tiny trusting hand clasped my thumb. I did not yet know the colour of her eyes, but she certainly had her mother's dark hair and complexion. She really was a beautiful baby. An hour previously Clare and I had both cried as she was born, and I felt myself becoming increasingly misty-eyed as I continued to gaze at her. She was perfect, perfect in every respect. No, that was not quite true; she was perfect in every respect apart from one detail. She was not my child. 

"Isn't she lovely, Tom?"

I glanced at my wife, her long dark hair tousled on the white pillow. Despite looking pale and drawn, Clare was a picture of contentment. In truth she was tired, and it had not been the easiest of natural births, but now it was over. She'd had a little girl; she was a mother! She could hardly contain her excitement. 

"Just think of all those lovely little clothes we can get for her." A frown crossed her face. "You're not disappointed Tom, are you? I mean because it's not a boy."

"Of course not Clare. How could I be? Just look at her."

"I'm glad we chose Laura. She really suits the name, doesn't she?"

She did, too. I could not take my eyes from our little Laura Wilson now all of one hour old. I wondered what the world had in store for her. I kissed her cheek before carefully passing her back to her mother.

Laura began to cry and I briefly entertained a fond delusion that she was missing me already. The actual reason was far more prosaic; she was merely hungry. The next moment Clare opened her bed jacket and our daughter was contentedly suckling at her breast. It was a moment to treasure forever. She had just finished feeding her when the nurse appeared. She took Laura from her and gently placed her in a crib alongside the bed. 

"I think it's time you got some rest too, Clare." 

I sat in the chair and watched over them both as they slept, Clare and Laura, my wife and our daughter, the two most precious things in my life.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I had known Clare for five of my thirty-one years. It was a chance encounter that had changed my life, a blind date fixed up by Ray, who was my closest friend. He and I played football for the same amateur side. He was a really likeable guy with a good sense of humour. He was not only very popular amongst his team mates, but also with women, who readily succumbed to his easy charm. He was certainly never short of girlfriends, but like a number of such men he preferred to play the field rather than to get too serious with any of them. 

"Don't laugh Tom, but I think I'm in love." 

We were having a lunchtime drink and I all but spluttered my beer over him.

"You've not been looking at yourself in the mirror again, have you Ray?"

"I'm being serious, Tom. You haven't met her yet, but you'll understand when you do. In fact you'll meet her tomorrow because we're going out in a foursome. I've fixed you up with her sister." 

The following evening found us in a bar in north London. We were on our second beer and the girls had still not appeared.

"Here she is, Tom." A slender dark haired girl had entered. Unfortunately she was alone; her sister had not come after all. Not for the first time, I had been stood up. Ray went over to meet his date, aware and rather proud to see that everyone in the bar was looking at her. He was in his element, as he brought her to our table. As she drew close I could not fail to notice how pretty she was. She had nice legs too, but it was her warm smile that I found so appealing. My disappointment at being stood up was not lessened one whit by Ray's new girl friend being so attractive. If her sister had been only half as good looking as this one, I would have been on to a winner. She was a dream and I could readily understand how Ray had been smitten. 

"Tom, this is Francesca." 

She immediately corrected him. "It's Clare!"

I could not believe my ears. How could Ray, a ladies man if ever there was one, not remember the name of his new girl friend? 

Ray turned to her, his incomprehension obvious.

"Fran is just coming...she's parking the car." 

Fran had said she would bring her sister. She had just neglected to mention that her sibling was her identical twin! 

I have read somewhere or other that you immediately know when the right person comes into your life. I had never given it much credence, but somehow I knew that Clare was the one for me. Not only was she stunning, but she also came across as a really nice person. She told me she was a teacher at the local infant school. She found it a very satisfying occupation, even if the pay was not that good. She loved little children, loved their trusting ways and took great pride when their reading skills developed under her tutelage.

We started going out together, usually just the two of us but sometimes as a foursome. That led to some confusion because in the early days Ray and I would struggle to tell them apart. However we did become aware of subtle differences as we got to know them better. 

There were other complications too. They were living together in a small one-bedroom flat in Highbury, which meant that when we took them home, we had very little privacy in which to be intimate. That is not to say that we could not have sex, but neither Ray nor I could really let ourselves go in such circumstances. It was Ray who had the idea to go to a hotel in Brighton. We accordingly booked two top floor rooms in the five-star Continental for the following weekend.

It was certainly a weekend to remember and not necessarily for all the right reasons. The Saturday was a total disaster. The motorway was closed in both directions following an accident, and the resulting traffic jams meant we were late getting to the hotel. When we finally arrived and were checking in, we were informed that they had no record of our reservation. They had no rooms left either, which was of even more concern. None of us wanted to fight our way back through the traffic again, so we decided to look for another hotel. We eventually found one in the middle of nowhere. It had seen better days, but at least the bedrooms were clean. 

We unpacked, and as it was now seven thirty in the evening, we immediately went out to dinner. We found what appeared to be a classy restaurant, but the food was late in arriving, and overcooked to boot! Still undaunted, we took a taxi from the restaurant to a nice seafront pub, and were just complimenting ourselves on a good choice when a fight broke out! By the time we got back to the hotel, the staff were about to close the bar. We finally persuaded them to serve us, the only successful thing we'd achieved the whole bloody day! 

In fact the day had been so bad that it was actually funny and the girls could not stop laughing about it. And what followed this disastrous day? One of the most passionate nights of sex I'd ever had.

Whether Clare wanted to make up for our mutual frustrations in Highbury, or even of this Saturday, she was absolutely insatiable. We had no sooner got in our room than she was kneeling down and unzipping me. In next to no time she was sucking me, holding the base of my shaft with one hand and touching herself with the other. She released me and stripped off all her clothes, save for her hold up stockings. Then she lay down on the edge of the bed and spread her legs. I had also undressed and, kneeling down at the side of the bed, was in a perfect position to lap at her opening. Not surprisingly, she was very wet indeed. I licked the length her slit before alighting on her clitoris. I tried to suck it into my mouth, swirling the tip of my tongue round the sensitive little bud, pausing now and again to study the juicy coral pink flesh of her labia. I stroked the smooth silky skin of her inner thigh, pleasantly surprised to note that she had neatly trimmed the hair either side of her cleft. Before long she was in the throes of a powerful orgasm and was pushing herself into my face. I continued to tongue her clit until she passed her peak and she collapsed on to the bed.

I slipped on a condom and climbed between her legs before guiding my cock into her hot wet depths. As I ploughed into her she would push up at me and I would be buried in her to my very balls. She gave vent to her feelings, groaning each time she felt me fully inside her. She had not been that vocal before; perhaps she no longer felt quite so constrained without Ray or Fran being in the room. Nevertheless she was mindful not to make too much noise, not that it really mattered, given the loud squeaking of the bedsprings. I did my best to ignore them, concentrating solely on the exquisite sensation as she clenched herself around my pulsating cock. I thrust into her one last time, and then I was ejaculating.

Ten minutes later we were snuggled up in bed. I was just dropping off to sleep when I heard Fran and Ray through the bedroom wall. The bed in their room had apparently received just as much maintenance as ours, and their bedsprings were also providing an audible accompaniment to their sexual activities. I remember smiling to myself and thinking that the day had ended up much better than it had started.

I awoke in the morning to find Clare sucking on my dick. I eased her round so that I could lick her at the same time and again delighted in the sight of her open wet femininity as she lowered herself onto my mouth. I adored mutual oral sex; to me it was actually more intimate than fucking. Being alone in our hotel room we were really able to indulge ourselves. I just about managed to hold off until she started to climax and then I let go. Her lips remained clamped round my crown as I shot jet after jet of semen into her mouth. 

Later that morning the four of us we were having breakfast together in the dining room. The girls went off to the loo, and I took the opportunity to speak to Ray. It seemed that he had experienced just as exciting a night with Fran. We never did discover what it was that had caused both of them to be so desperate for it. Had we done so, we could have been millionaires.

Chapter 2

Of course they were both sexy girls but it was not just the sex. They were also fun to be with, Fran perhaps, being the more adventurous of the two, whilst Clare was the more caring and compassionate. It was no surprise that both Ray and I should fall in love with them, and no surprise that two years later we had a double wedding. 

Within the year Fran was expecting. Clare and I were not quite ready for children and had decided to wait. However Clare shared in the preparation, going along with the parents-to-be, helping to choose the furniture for the nursery and generally being supportive.

We were simply devastated when we heard the news. Clare dropped the phone and screamed. I attempted to make sense of what a distraught Ray was trying to tell me. A hit and run driver had knocked Francesca down and she was in a coma. She had already lost the baby and the doctors had warned Ray that her condition was such that he should expect the worst. By the time Clare and I got to the hospital, she was already dead.

The next few months were utter hell with anger, misery and despair ever present in our lives. Ray remained inconsolable, but slowly, oh so slowly, Clare and I began to come to terms with our loss. Now only too aware of the ephemeral nature of our existence, we decided we would start a family.

We were both confident that she would fall pregnant quickly – her late twin sister had done just that – but it did not happen. Our hopes were dashed every month with the onset of her period. Eventually we went to a clinic and to my dismay, it was discovered that I had an abnormally low sperm count. The specialist assured me that it had no influence on my sexuality, that it was quite commonplace, and most importantly that I might still be able to father a child. It was just that I was firing blanks most of the time. He suggested that we limit our sex to those times when she was most fertile. I must say that consulting a chart and taking her internal temperature to determine the optimum moment, was hardly likely to make for mad passionate sex. We persevered nevertheless, but with no more success than before.

We were of course bitterly disappointed, but to put it in context, it was but a minor irritation compared to what Ray was going through. He was still missing Fran terribly and had lost his zest for life. Clare was becoming increasingly concerned about him. She was sure he was not eating enough so we often invited him round to eat with us and she would insist he take home what had not been eaten. I think she deliberately cooked more food than was necessary, just so that she could provide for him. She also felt he could do with some female company, so she tried fixing him up with a number of her single friends. A couple of them were really nice, but it was all to no avail. Ray was not really interested; he had lost his heart to Fran, and no one could replace her. 

It was the weekend after the second anniversary of her death. We felt he would be especially low at this time, so we invited him to come out with us for a drink. On reflection, perhaps we should not have gone to the pub where we had all originally met, but it was just one of so many places where memories of happy times together served merely to underline our tragic loss.

I tried to lift the spirits of the others but it was a forlorn task and in the end we realised we were not in the right frame of mind and decided to go home. Twenty minutes later the taxi deposited us at our front door. Ray was thinking about going back to his own house, but seeing how sad he was, Clare and I insisted that he stay. 

We were sitting in the lounge, drinking a nice red wine. 

Ray raised his glass to us both. "To the two dearest people in my life. I don't know what I would have done without ..." Suddenly his eyes filled with tears and he could not finish his words.

Clare took his glass from him and then cuddled him to her bosom. She too was crying as she sought to comfort him. Possibly embarrassed by giving vent to his emotions, he quickly composed himself. He looked sheepishly at us.

"Sorry about that, I suppose it was us being together in that pub again and it just brought it all back."

"You don't have to say sorry Ray." Clare spoke in a soft soothing manner whilst dabbing her eyes with a tissue. 

I tried to lift the gloom. "I can still see your face that night, Ray. It was a picture!"

"I'm not surprised; I just had no idea there were two of them." A brief smile crossed his face. "Which brings me to what I was going to say to you. I really appreciate your trying to fix me up with other women, but I think it is a waste of time. I am never going to find another Fran. It is ironic really because I see her in you all the time Clare, not just in your looks but also in your manner. And it just underlines how wonderful she was; how much I miss her."

"Don't you think you are being a bit pessimistic Ray? About finding someone else I mean. It is only two years after all." I saw the hurt in his face and immediately regretted my words.

"Only two years, Tom. Doesn't sound that long when you say it like that, does it? Only two years. Have you any idea how long that is when you're without the one woman you love?" His face creased as he fought back the tears

"Coffees?" Clare tried to change the mood and was already on her feet heading for the kitchen. 

"No thanks Clare. I'm going to turn in. Goodnight both of you." 

Clare turned back and kissed him. "Goodnight Ray. Sleep well."

He left us and I heard him climbing the stairs. 

"That was not the most sympathetic remark you could have made now Tom, was it?" She was shaking her head as she looked at me. 

"I was trying to stop him feeling quite so depressed."

"Well you failed! I think I'd better go up and see if he's all right. I think he needs some tender loving care." 

"Clare!" She already had her hand on the door handle. "Tender loving care? He's in his bedroom for Heaven's sake! He could easily think you've got something else in mind."

She let go of it and turned to face me, clearly irritated at my intervention. 

"Of course he wouldn't. But anyway, suppose he did; would you want me to deny him, after all he's been through?"

"Clare, you're my wife!"

I kept my voice down but there was no disguising my shock. She had asked me if I would want to deny him; the implication of such a question being that she was quite prepared to indulge him. Of course I felt compassion for him, he was my best friend after all. But should such compassion extend to tolerating my wife having sex with him? My conscience pricked me at this point; at least I had a wife. But on the other hand, we could not have done more for him since the accident. Clare had opened her arms to him, indeed she'd opened her heart to him, but did that mean she should also open her legs to him? 

And supposing she actually did? What would be the repercussions for us? It was madness to go down such a route, but to my surprise, there was also a frisson of sexual excitement at such a prospect. I was trying to rationalise my thoughts when I became aware she was talking to me. 

"I'm sorry Tom. I shouldn't have said anything. It was a stupid idea but I just felt so sad for him, that's all...look, I'm really sorry." She sat down next to me.

"That's the reason, is it? You'd let him have you just because you felt sad for him?" 

"Don't start getting the wrong idea about this Tom. I don't love him like I love you. I love him like a brother. 

"Oh, you love him like a brother? So now you're into incest as well as adultery?" 

"You don't have to humiliate me, "she snapped, "I already feel like an idiot."

Mine had been a flippant remark; not intended to hurt her, but clearly it had. 

"Sorry Clare. That was only meant as a joke. But what about the risk to our marriage?"

"What, you think that by going to bed with him, I'll fall in love with him?" I could tell from her blazing eyes that she was getting even angrier.

"That is possible yes, but that's not what I meant."

"Oh, of course it's the male thing isn't it?" There was now mockery in her voice. "Because you men judge us women by the size of our tits, you think we can only judge you by the size of your dicks. That's it, isn't it? You're concerned that he might be a better lover than you and therefore I will no longer be satisfied with you?"

"Well, it has been known to happen."

"He's not!"

I was about to say something when the significance of her words suddenly hit me. She had said, 'He's not!' Was she having an affair with him behind my back? Surely not! I could not believe that either of them would cheat on me. Perhaps it was Fran? Of course! Women often talk about such things, and Fran and Clare could not have been closer. But wait a minute; Clare had said that he was no better than me. Fran would not have known what I was like in bed.

Clare had watched me puzzling over her words and seemed to be relishing the moment. "He's not a better lover than you. And please don't insult me by asking if we're having an affair."

"Well how the hell would you know otherwise?" There was already a dryness in my mouth. 

"Do you remember that Saturday night in that crummy hotel in Brighton?

"I'm not going to forget a night like that Clare, but I fail to see what that's got to do with it." 

"Have you really no idea what I'm talking about?"

"No."

"We both had a very exciting night, Tom. The only thing is..." she paused, "we weren't together! Fran and I swapped places. That's how I know that whilst Ray is very good in bed, he is certainly no better than you are." 


Wilson's Web



"You swapped?" I could hardly believe my ears.

Chapter 3

"You must remember that it was quite early in our relationship. It had been such a crap day; we thought we'd liven things up. When we got back to the hotel, we went to the ladies' and changed clothes. We'd swapped identities before, but that usually entailed one of us standing in for the other on a date or that sort of thing. We'd never previously gone this far and Fran regarded it as a challenge. As she put it at the time, 'we'd see if we could carry it off, whilst having it off!' And then we both got a fit of the giggles." Recounting this was causing Clare to laugh. "I'm sorry Tom, I shouldn't be laughing, but it was very funny." 

I didn't know what to say. In fact, I had a sneaking admiration for their brazenness.

"Did you ever do it again?"

"No, never. Quite soon after that I realised I loved you. And then it was out of the question. The point I am trying to make is that going to bed with him did not affect my love for you."

"I am just amazed, Clare. I had no idea."

I had often thought of that night in Brighton. Clare and I had enjoyed even better sex since, but Brighton was a seminal moment in our relationship. Now I had discovered that it had been Fran not Clare who had offered herself to me with such wild abandon. And no doubt Clare had behaved in a similar fashion with Ray. Hell, I even heard their bloody bedsprings! I became aware that I was getting aroused. What was the matter with me? Ten minutes ago I was angry, now I was getting an erection. Surely it was perverse to get a hard-on at the thought of what my future wife might have been doing with Ray some four years earlier. It may have been perverse, but there was no denying it was very erotic, and erotic enough for me to want her to do it again. 

"Do you still want to go upstairs to him, Clare?"

She actually blushed. "I already told you it was a stupid idea."

There was a certain irony in the situation in that our roles were reversed, and that I was now the one trying to justify it to her. But whereas she had been acting on impulse, my actions were premeditated. Whereas she'd been driven by selfless compassion for Ray, my motives were utterly selfish. That is not to overlook the fact that Ray would get pleasure from Clare going to him, but it would be secondary to my own. 

"No it wasn't a stupid idea. I think it just goes to show what I've always known, that you really are a very caring person." I took a deep breath. "Look, how can I put this Clare? If you still want to comfort him, go ahead. I won't mind." It was a blatant lie. I did mind – I minded that she might now not do it.

She kissed me full on the lips, her tongue seeking out mine. But I was impatient and I broke away.

"You know where he is, Clare. What are you waiting for?"

I remained seated, continuing to look in her eyes as she got to her feet.

"There is just one other thing," I reached under her short white skirt and carefully eased down her panties, "If you're really going to comfort him, I don't think you'll be needing these, do you?"

She stared straight back at me as she stepped out of them. 

"You really are the most adorable man." She blew me a kiss and then she was gone. I heard the stairs creaking as she ascended, and a moment later, the sound of her knocking gently on his bedroom door. I picked up her discarded panties and pressed them to my face. They were still warm and I detected the musk of her sexual arousal as well as her Femfresh. 

I heard her say, "Ray, can I come in?" and there was the sound of his door opening and closing. There was some muffled conversation and then it went quiet. My heart was pounding as I imagined the scene, his initial surprise and then his delight at the realisation of why she had come to him. In my mind's eye, they were already lying on his bed and kissing. I wondered how he would react when he slid his hand up the inside of her silky smooth inner thigh to discover that she wasn't wearing any panties. His finger would immediately penetrate her while she would be reaching for his penis. I suspected that she might want to take him in her mouth; she liked to do that. But what about Ray? Would he want to kiss her cleft and taste her arousal, or would he be so hungry for her that he would have to fuck her at once?

By now I was fiercely erect. I unzipped my trousers, and eased my dick out. I gently stroked it, wanting to delay the delicious moment of release for as long as possible. Soon I heard the rhythmic creaking of the bed, audible evidence of the sexual congress of my wife and my best friend. By now, I could no longer contain my excitement and I was masturbating furiously. I just had time to wrap Clare's dainty white knickers round the end of my cock before I was ejaculating.

I turned off the lights and went up to bed. When I woke up the following morning, Clare was lying on her back alongside me. She was motionless, save for the regular rise and fall of her breasts under the thin white sheet. I felt an overwhelming love for her. Her dalliance with Ray had only served to make her seem even more beautiful, even more desirable. I was still watching over her when she woke up and smiled at me. 

"Morning." 

"Hello Clare."

I turned on my side and snuggled up to her, cupping her breast at the same time. She turned her head to face me 

"You're not cross with me?"

"No." 

We kissed, a gentle loving kiss rather than a madly passionate one.

"I do so love you, Tom."

"I love you too." 

"He hadn't been with another woman for over six months, you know."

"He must have been desperate."

"He was, but he only had one condom so we could only do it the once. This is my most fertile time remember...I couldn't possibly take any chances."

We kissed again and I felt for her opening. She was already wet and my fingers bathed in her lubricity. I felt her hand on my dick and I was instantly erect. She positioned her leg over my hip, and I penetrated her with ease. In this position I was able to continue fingering her clitoris. I wanted to hear more about what had happened. 

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes, but that's all I'm going to say about it, Tom."

I carried on stroking her sensitive little bud, continuing to shaft her in a slow and deliberate manner. I was determined that she would achieve her sexual release first, but I did have an ulterior motive. I waited until I felt her tensing, until she was right on the brink of her climax, before I spoke. 

"Did you suck him off as well, then?" 

"Yes." 

"And would you like to fuck him again?"

"Yes! Yes, I would!" 

She could not say anything else; she was in the throes of an intense orgasm. In fact we both were, because her response to my questioning had triggered off my own powerful climax and I was jetting my semen deep into her core. Soon it was over, the intense sexual passion replaced by a sense of well-being and contentment. She had begun to nod off and I was aware that I was already shrinking and starting to slip out of her.

Now that I was no longer sexually aroused I tried to analyse the situation more objectively. My wife had been to bed with my best friend. How did I feel about it? It may have been illogical, but I loved her all the more for it. Was it morally wrong? Of course, but it was also intensely arousing. Clare had not wanted to talk about it, but when pressed she said that she'd enjoyed it and that she'd do it again. Admittedly, she was having an orgasm at the time but did that mean it was not true? I was glad he had used a condom. I smiled inwardly. How ironic it would have been if, having had her only the once, he had made her pregnant. I had not managed it and I had been trying for the past eighteen months.

I heard the front door closing and then Ray's car starting up. I did not blame him for deciding to go home; I too, would have felt embarrassed if our roles had been reversed. I glanced at Clare, who was still asleep. I got up to take a shower and that is when the idea came to me. I decided not to discuss it with her until I had had a bit more time to ponder on it. However, the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced it would work. The ideal opportunity to raise the subject came in the late afternoon, when we were having a cup of tea. 

Chapter 4

"I've been thinking on and off about last night, Clare." In truth I had been thinking of nothing else. "Will you be honest with me?"

"I'm not going to give you a blow by blow account if that's what you mean."

"A blow by blow account?" I smiled at her choice of words. "That would be very nice, but that's not what I really want to talk about." She had a quizzical look on her face. "I actually want to talk about us. Now, how long have we been trying for a family; eighteen months?" 

She nodded.

I continued. "It doesn't look as if it is going to happen, does it? So what other options do we have? The first one is adoption. We've talked about that already, and we both know it is not going to be easy. There are so many rules and regulations and we have to satisfy so many authorities. It will take a very long while, and at any stage someone can decide we are not fit to be adoptive parents. They don't even have to tell us why they have come to that decision. 

The second option is artificial insemination. There is a fair bit of red tape with this too Clare. And do we really want to have a child without knowing anything about the father?"

"So Tom, are you trying to tell me you've changed your mind?" 

"No Clare, far from it. But maybe there is another way and that's what I want to discuss." I picked up my teacup and took a sip. "What about Ray?" 

"You mean have him donate his sperm?"

"Well, I suppose you could be artificially inseminated, if that's what you wanted, but I imagine it wouldn't be as much fun as a good old-fashioned fuck. And there'd be much less paperwork, too!" My attempt at humour was wasted.

"Have you spoken to him about this?" She frowned at me.

"Of course not! I wouldn't dream of doing so without speaking to you first. Look, have a think about it Clare, and if you are in favour, I'll talk to him."

We resumed our conversation later that night when we were already in bed. 

"I've thought about what you said this afternoon, Tom."

My heart rate suddenly increased. "Go on." 

"Well, if we do choose to go down this route, it has to be with you as well as him. That way, if I do fall pregnant, we can still believe it's our child."

"That's what I would want anyway."

"There is something else." She paused.

"I'm listening."

"I don't want you thinking badly of me, but I have to admit that I do find Ray sexually attractive." 

"Why should I do that, Clare? We both know he's a nice guy, he's good-looking and in the sexual sense he's new to you. I would be surprised if he didn't turn you on." 

"So I don't have to pretend that I'm not getting any pleasure out of it; that I'm just tolerating it in order to get in the family way?"

Just hearing her saying this was enough for me to start getting an erection. 

"No you don't."

"And you won't get upset if I enjoy it? Because if that is likely to be the case, I suggest we forget the whole thing here and now. Much as I want a baby, I'm not going to have it jeopardising our marriage."

I placed her hand on my throbbing dick. 

"Do you think I'm likely to get upset Clare?"

She smiled. "No, maybe not at the moment, but what about afterwards?"

I tried to sound serious. "I won't get upset, Clare." 

"OK, Tom, I believe you." She gently squeezed me. "And now I think it's time we put this to good use, don't you?" 

Ray and I always went to the pub on a Wednesday. It was our first meeting since he'd been with Clare. He was clearly on edge when he joined me at the table in the corner. I was much the same. What do you say to each other in such a situation? We tried for normality, discussing Arsenal's prospects of success in the Champions' League, but it was evident that whilst we might have been talking football, we were thinking Clare. 

"Look Tom, about last Saturday. I am really sorry; it was all my fault. It might be better if I don't stay over any more." 

"It wasn't your fault Ray. It wasn't Clare's either. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, because I encouraged her. The point is that both Clare and I wanted it to happen. She doesn't regret it, and neither do I. But it's more than that, Ray." I had reached the point of no return. Even though he was my best friend, it was still embarrassing to have to admit to my deficiency in the reproductive department. 

"We have been trying to start a family for over a year and a half without success. I'm not sterile, Ray, but my sperm count is very low. Clare and I have been talking about adoption or even artificial insemination, but the more we talked about it, the more we realised the ideal solution was staring us in the face." 

"So what is the ideal solution?" 

I looked around to make sure no one could hear me. "You are!"

"What? Are you trying to wind me up, Tom?"

"No, Ray. I wouldn't joke about this, I swear. Think about it for a moment from our point of view. We have both known you for years and we know what you're like. You're healthy. You're sane...well that might be stretching things, but you're not yet totally mad. And we both think an awful lot of you and... well, what I mean is that we both think we wouldn't have that much to worry about if you were the father."

"I don't know what to say, Tom. I'm really touched."

"Shall I tell you what we have in mind?"

"Go on."

"The general idea is that we both bonk her at every opportunity until she falls. If she does conceive I won't know that it's not mine, even if the chances are that it's yours. Whatever happens, I will take full responsibility for it, and my name will show as the father on the birth certificate. 

What's important for us is that the child never doubts that I'm its natural father. The crucial thing for you to consider Ray, is if you could accept your child not knowing that you were its real father? You could see it as often as you wanted, of course, because you'd be its uncle anyway. But that's it; the child would only ever think of you as an uncle.

There is one other thing, Ray. I am embarrassed to say this but I have to, because Clare is so important to me. I don't want you to go with anyone else whilst you're bonking her."

"Do you really think I would, Tom?" 

"I'm sorry, Ray."

"No, you're right to try to protect her. In your shoes I'd do the same." For a moment, he seemed as if he were about to be overcome with emotion, but he managed to control himself. He picked up his beer glass and took a swig. "I'll do it, Tom. How could I say no when I think of what you've both done for me." He was about to take a second mouthful, when another question occurred to him. "So, when do you want to make a start?"

"As soon as you want. You could come round this Friday evening and stop over, if it's convenient?"

Ray looked at me with a smile. "I think I can find a slot in my schedule."

Chapter 5

Clare made a point of getting home early that Friday afternoon. She was already in the bath when I arrived home. I opened a bottle of wine, poured out two glasses, and took them upstairs. I gave one to her and sat down on the edge of the bath.

"Hello Clare, how are you feeling?"

"A bit nervous, really." She took a sip of her wine.

"You'll be fine, you'll see." In an effort to allay her anxiety, I asked her a mundane question, as if we were planning a routine dinner party as opposed to a three-way fuck-fest. 

"Have you decided on the menu?" 

"I think so. I thought we'd want something light, so I'm doing poached salmon, new potatoes and salad. I've also put a couple of bottles of wine in the fridge." 

I looked at my wine. "Well, there's one and a half left now. I'll put another one in when I go down." 

I don't know if she was taken in by my apparent nonchalance, but in reality I was every bit as nervous as she was. Ray would be spending time with us, with one single purpose in mind, namely to get Clare pregnant. He would therefore be having her at every opportunity. It had seemed a good idea at the time but now I did feel somewhat apprehensive.

She had said that she was sexually attracted to him. Was it just because he was new to her, or was there something else? She had said that he was good in bed. Yes, she had also pointed out that he was no better than me, but when I thought about it, I recognised that she would hardly have said otherwise, would she? Moreover, she was reluctant to tell me what they had got up to the previous Saturday night. Was it just her natural discretion or might the reason for her reticence be that she had enjoyed it more than she had wanted to let on? I knew he was a bit bigger than me - there are no secrets in the showers after a football match - but Clare had already ridiculed the notion that size matters. But could she have said that so as not to hurt my pride?

Perhaps I was being paranoid. After all the whole business had been my idea in the first place. I knew Clare loved me, so why should I doubt her? And Ray? He was my best friend before he was my brother and if anything was certain in this world, I could be certain he would never betray my trust. The important thing was that Clare became pregnant. What did it matter if she enjoyed herself at the same time? And why shouldn't Ray do likewise? He had suffered a grievous loss; was still suffering if truth were known. Was he not deserving of some pleasure? 

"Tom," I heard her say, "you look miles away. Don't you think you should get a move on?"

I looked at my watch "Yes, you're right." I got to my feet. "Clare, there is just one thing ... it might seem weird that I'm saying this to you but... I really want you to enjoy yourself!"

She was smiling. "Thank you Tom, I'll try!"

I felt my cock twitch at her words.

She got up from the bath, flecks of bath foam clinging to her rounded breasts. I noticed that she had trimmed the hair at the front of her bush as usual, but as she stepped out of the bath I could see that she had also depilated the area either side of her cleft. 

"Do you like it?" She had a mischievous grin on her face. 

Did I like it? She looked good enough to eat! I knelt in front of her as she raised her leg so as to afford me a perfect view of her vagina. I licked the smooth plump lips of her labia tasting the perfume of the bath salts before my tongue forced them apart and I savoured her arousal. But not for long! She pulled away, delighting in her ability to tease me. 

"Sorry, Tom, but I have to get ready." 

By the time I had showered, she had done her hair and was sitting at the dressing table applying her make up. All she had on were a pair of white lacy panties, which were cut high, and whilst not qualifying as a thong, still revealed a lot of her smooth buttocks. She saw me come in and held out the matching bra.

"Yes or no?" 

"I don't think so, Clare." I looked at her firm breasts. "You don't need one anyway." 

As I got dressed, I anticipated the evening ahead, aware of my increasing excitement. I suspected that it was not normal to be so sexually aroused at the prospect of my wife having sex with another man, but normal or not, that was the reality. In fact I was so excited I conjectured that even if there had been no pressing need of Ray, I would have had to invent a reason to involve him. I glanced across at Clare as she stared at the mirror and pursed her lips. She stood up to don a skimpy pale green top and a short white wrap over skirt that contrasted with her tanned midriff. Her dark hair was combed down, almost touching her shoulders. She was having trouble doing up her necklace and I offered to help. It was more difficult than I imagined because the clasp was very small and in my nervous state, I was all fingers and thumbs. I detected her perfume, and bending down to get another sniff, I was rewarded with an enchanting view of her unfettered breasts.




Wilson's Web



"I'll tell you something, Clare. Ray is going to be one very happy man." I looked at my reflection in the mirror as I nuzzled her ear.

"But I want you to be happy too."

Deliberately echoing her earlier words, I smiled as I said, "I'll try."

She was about to say something when the doorbell rang. 

Ray arrived with a large bunch of flowers and a bottle of wine. We were already sitting in the lounge when Clare joined us a short while later. Ray got up as she walked across to him. He could not fail to notice her breasts swaying under her pale green cotton top. 

"Hello Ray. Thank you for the flowers; they're lovely." They touched lips rather than kissed.

"My pleasure, Clare. You look delightful, I must say." 

He was dead right too; she did look delightful, and she oozed sex appeal. 

Our conversation was rather stilted as we tried to pretend that ours was a perfectly normal dinner party. After we had eaten we returned to the lounge. Even though we had each consumed a couple of glasses of wine, we still seemed to be on edge and none of us wanted to be first to make a move. To make matters worse, so to speak, Ray was not even sitting with us on the sofa. I suggested that we might all benefit from watching an adult video together. It also meant that Ray had to join us on the sofa in order to watch it. I set up the television and returned to my seat, remote control in hand. 

Clare, already revealing a fair amount of thigh, was sitting in the middle of the sofa with Ray on her left. I sat down to her right and zapped the video. The screen came to life; a girl was out in the country having a picnic with two men. Suddenly she jumped up, the reason quickly becoming obvious. It seemed she had ants in her pants. Her partners rushed to her assistance and, this being a porn film, immediately removed the offending undergarment before closely inspecting her nether regions. The next moment one of them was licking her whilst the other had unzipped himself and was pushing his rigid dick into her mouth.

I felt myself becoming aroused, partly as a result of the film, but also because of Clare's proximity to Ray. I held her hand in mind and gave her a brief kiss. By now both men on the screen were naked and the blonde girl was sucking each of them in turn. Without taking my eyes from the action I felt for her upper thigh. Although her legs were together, there was no resistance as I slipped my hand between them and ran my fingers over the smooth skin. I was already erect, and as I had not felt it necessary to put on any underwear, it was rather prominent. I glanced at Ray who was seemingly engrossed in the film.

The girl on the screen was now on her hands and knees, with one stud fucking her whilst she sucked on the other. I slid my hand up Clare's leg until my little finger was pressing against her panties. Without making it too obvious I felt for her crack, trying to separate her labia lips through the hot and increasingly damp cotton. I kissed her again, and this time her tongue was immediately pushing its way into my mouth. With my free hand I began to undo the buttons of her top. A moment later I was teasing her exposed nipples. She responded in kind and gripped my erection. I opened my eyes and saw that Ray was watching us. By now I was becoming emboldened by events both on and off screen. I unfastened her skirt to reveal her white panties. The shadow of her pubic hair was clearly visible through the thin fabric.

"She looks lovely, doesn't she, Ray?"

He nodded.

"Why don't you take them off? She looks even nicer without them."

He looked quizzically at her and spoke softly. "Would you like that, Clare?" 

Only the ticking of the clock could be heard in the silence that followed. She looked unblinking at me as she answered him in a breathless voice.

"Yes." 

The sexual tension in the room had been growing with every minute but it seemed to increase ten-fold as he knelt down in front of her. I sat back in the sofa and watched her staring at him as he reached up under skirt and began to slide them down. She raised herself slightly so as to make it easier for him. She had hardly moved at all, but she could not have sent a louder or clearer signal of her desire to have sex with him. My heart was pounding so fast and so loud I wondered if I was about to suffer a heart attack. Having slipped her panties over her feet, he gently parted her legs and the next moment he was kissing her pudenda. He pulled her forward slightly so that he could get a better angle to work on her. I was mesmerised at the sight of him pushing his tongue into her cleft, slurping her feminine juices, and sucking on her clitoris.

Her sexual tension communicated itself to me in the fierce way she was now gripping my erection. I indicated for her to let go of me and stood up to remove my clothes. Her eyes met mine, and we continued looking at each other until hers began to glaze over as her climax grew near. She was holding his head in both hands and pushing herself up into his mouth as he licked and tongued her to a momentous orgasm. Her loud groans turned to soft whimpers as she collapsed back on the sofa. Ray planted one more kiss on her mound before he got to his feet. His mouth and chin were slick with her juices as he started to undress.

"Clare, I want you!" I was so tense my voice sounded different. I knelt down between her spread-eagled legs, and guided my throbbing cock into her hot and exceedingly wet canal. She opened her eyes at the initial touch of my cock head, before wrapping her arms around me as she welcomed me into her body. I could not hold back and began to pound into her. I was far too excited to last and within a short space of time I was spurting deep inside her. We kissed with a real passion, a frantic mashing together of lips and tongues. Wrapped in her arms and legs, still sheathed in her vagina, and with my tongue in her mouth, I was totally immersed in the love of my life. I did not want it to end, but Ray was waiting. 

He was standing alongside us and stroking his erection. I already knew that overall, he was a bit bigger than me, but nevertheless I was still surprised that it was so much thicker than mine when erect. His bulbous crown, atop the rigid shaft, was thicker still. There were some similarities; we were both circumcised and his balls did not look any bigger than mine but whilst his were potent, mine were not, and it was the knowledge of this, rather than the differences in size, which made me feel inadequate. I got to my feet aware that I was already shrinking, a condition that only served to fuel my sense of inferiority. 

Clare remained on the edge of the sofa, still sitting on her open skirt and with her legs still spread wide. My essence was already beginning to seep out of her, trickling down her perineum and onto her skirt. I sat down next to her and held her hand before pressing it to my lips. The video was still playing but no one was paying any attention to it, so I switched it off with the remote. 

Ray knelt down between her legs and pushed at her entrance. It had already opened to me, but he was that much thicker. For one brief moment there was equilibrium between her resistance and his pressure. But it was only for that one brief moment. Her opening dilated, and his thickness slowly disappeared into her hot wet depths. He remained upright, the only point of contact between them being their conjoined sexual organs. He withdrew in similar unhurried fashion, his shaft smeared with a cocktail of my sperm and her ample lubrication. It seemed that he was about to pull out completely; half of his crown being visible; but the next moment he was gliding back in. It had started as a slow leisurely fuck, but the tempo was beginning to increase. And as his speed increased, so in equal measure did his force. He leant forwards and placed his hands on the sofa either side of her waist, in order to get more purchase. I was suddenly aware that I was again erect and that I was stroking myself. 

He was now shafting her in earnest, her body juddering under his onslaught. There was no doubting that she was enjoying it. She groaned as her breath was being forced from her with each powerful thrust, but she was also raising herself to meet him, to ensure that she took every single throbbing millimetre of his potent thickness. Earlier she had wrapped her arms around me; now in a bittersweet moment, they were wrapped around him. A few seconds later his climax was upon him and he was filling Clare's womb with jet after jet of life-forming sperm.

Had I just witnessed the moment of conception? The idea of her being pregnant was overwhelming. On the one hand I was extremely happy for Clare, yet on the other, I was close to tears because the chances of it being mine were negligible. I was amazed at the intensity of my sexual arousal, yet at the same time I felt shame for being so perverted. She was my wife but for some inexplicable reason I wanted her all the more when she had been with him. Even though I was still erect, I wanted him to stay inside her for as long as possible. There was no logic; nothing made sense any more. 

Ray pulled out and flopped down on the sofa beside Clare, his wet and sticky cock softening before my eyes. Clare, naked save for her unbuttoned green top, got to her feet, and as she did so, I gently pulled her towards me. Before I knew it, I was caressing her buttocks and kissing the hair on her mound. Might a new life be forming deep within her even as I kissed her? I pulled away to study her soft femininity and saw his cum oozing from her puffy wet lips. I felt her hands on my head and I glanced up, past her soft, rounded stomach, and past her naked breasts. It was her eyes that caught my attention; she had never looked at me with more affection. 

"I love you so much, Tom."

On an impulse I pressed my face to her and forced my tongue in her cleft. It was as much a gesture of love as one of sex. It was not her usual taste; there was a much sharper tang to it. It was semen, Ray's semen. I let her go; she picked up her knickers and left the room.

Chapter 6

There was a deafening silence. I did not know what to say to Ray, and I imagined he must have had the same problem. I mean what could he say? He was no more likely to comment on Clare's performance than I would his technique. It was a strange situation in more ways than one. Here we were sitting together on the sofa, both of us bollock naked, and both of us lost for words. It was Ray who finally broke the ice.

"Do you want to know something, Tom?"

"Go on."

"I don't think the curtains go with the carpet!" 

I just had to laugh. 

"Very droll, Ray. Can I get you another drink?"

"I'd like a glass of water, please Tom."

I went to the kitchen and returned with two full glasses.

He took the proffered glass from me. "Thanks Tom. I suppose I should ask you if you're still OK with all this." 

"I'm fine, thanks Ray. But there is something I have been meaning to ask you."

He looked expectantly at me. 

"Did you know about Brighton?"

"Didn't you?"

"No, I had no idea. I only found out last Saturday."

"There's no point in letting it upset you, Tom. It was four years ago after all."

"I'm not upset about it...I just wondered if you knew, that's all."

"Fran told me after about a month or so. It was her idea by the way. She was very adventurous when it came to sex, believe me. It was just one of her many endearing qualities."

"So why didn't you say anything to me?"

"Well shortly after I found out, you told me you were getting really fond of Clare. What would you have said if I had then told you that she'd recently been on the end of my dick? If our roles had been reversed, would you have told me?" 

"No, I suppose not."

Clare was carrying a tray as she entered the room. She had put her white panties back on and had done up the two middle buttons of her green top. She was not revealing much, but just enough to be utterly irresistible, an amalgam of pure innocence and sheer sensuality. 

"Who wants a coffee?" She began to smile when she saw Ray and I turned to see the cause.

Ray was getting another erection, and seeing his, I felt mine rising in unison.

The atmosphere was heavy with sex. Clare was sitting in the chair opposite, her skimpy panties now clearly outlining her cleft. I was about to pass the sugar to Ray when I heard her whispering, reciting something or other. I turned to face her and saw that she was pointing to Ray and me alternately.

"Ip, dip sky blue, who's it, not you! Not because you're naughty, not..." She stopped when she became aware that Ray and I were staring at her with bemused expressions on our faces. "It's all right", she said, a look of innocence on her face, "I haven't gone bananas."

"No?" I sounded less than convinced.

"No!" she responded in a firm tone. "It's just that you're both hard and I was trying to decide who I should go to bed with first. However, Tom, since you've been so rude," she emphasised the word, 'rude' and wagged her finger at me, "I'm going to go with Ray!" 

She had told me off, but with such a warm smile I could not possibly take umbrage. 

Ray could not wait to finish his coffee and gulped the rest of it down in one swig. I was pleased to see that he had the presence of mind to go upstairs and leave us alone for a private moment. 

"Are you all right, Tom? I was only joking." Clare looked concerned. 

I nodded. "I know you were, Clare. Yes I'm fine."

As she bade me goodnight, she gave me a passionate kiss, reaching down at the same time to hold my dick. 

"I'm going to take care of Ray and then I'll join you in bed."

I watched her pert little bum as she walked to the door. She turned round, blew me a kiss and left the room. 

I lay in bed, doing my best to resist the temptation to masturbate as I heard Ray fucking Clare in the adjacent bedroom. It must have been twenty minutes later when the bedroom door opened and Clare padded over the side of the bed and got in.

"Tom," she whispered, "are you awake?"

"Clare," I said, "get real! Do you honestly think I could have gone to sleep, knowing that you were coming back?"

"I want you, Tom." I simply adored that soft sensual voice of hers. 

We kissed with the force and passion of our early days. I cupped a breast and felt for her nipple, a nipple that was already hard and extended. My tongue teased the other one, and I felt her fingers on the back of my neck. My hand crept down from her breast, and traversed the rounded, smooth and firm skin of her stomach, before my fingers reached her slit and felt for her opening. I inserted my finger into her, and then a second. Finally I had three fingers stretching her cum-filled canal, three fingers bathing in Ray's sperm, wallowing in its texture and slipperiness. I withdrew them and sought out her clitoris in order to tease it.

She was now holding my erection as I switched between her sensitive little nub and her opening, alternately using one finger or three. She was tensing and I sensed she was quite close. My fingers were back inside her wet depths but this time, when I withdrew them, I fumbled for her mouth. I felt her teeth, and then her tongue and finally her lips as she sucked each of them clean in turn. I went back to work on her little button and the very next moment she was experiencing a climax, an intense all-encompassing climax, and a climax that rendered her all but senseless. 

It was now my turn, and I positioned myself between her legs. She was so full of cum that I did not even have to push to gain entry; I was fully inside her before I knew it. She was so full of cum that she squelched each time I thrust into her. She was so full of cum that she slurped each time I withdrew. And within less than a minute, she was full of even more! 

I woke up the following morning to the sound of running water emanating from the en-suite bathroom. I opened the door and went in. Clare was washing herself on the bidet. 

"Morning Clare."

"Morning Tom. I'm sorry if I woke you, but I had to clean myself up. I was a bit ripe. Stale cum is not the most pleasant of odours." 

She got off the bidet and began to dry herself with a towel. 

"So, how do you feel?" I asked.

"Fine! Well maybe a little tired, but otherwise OK. What about you though, Tom? What do you think about it all now?" 

"I honestly don't know what to say. I want you to get pregnant, so from that point of view, I'm glad. But I am a bit worried about my reaction; it can't be normal to get so turned on. Watching him fucking you last night was one of the most exciting things I've ever seen. Why should that be? Why should I love to see you stretched round his cock? Why do I want you to go to him again?" 

"I can't give you the answer, Tom." She looked at me in the compassionate way I had grown to love so much,

"Clare!" I dropped to me knees and embraced her. "I love you." I knew I had tears in my eyes; I just did not know why. I pulled the towel away and kissed the soft curve of her stomach, the downy hair on her navel, and finally her crack. I looked at the full pink lips. She looked no different from yesterday afternoon, yet since then Ray had fucked her twice. Twice, those succulent pink lips had yielded to Ray's bulbous crown. Twice, she had been fully impaled upon his rigid thickness. Twice, she had milked him of his male seed. The words came unbidden to my lips.

"Go to him, Clare." 

I looked up at her as I freed her from my embrace. She smiled at me as she stepped out of the bathroom. My eyes followed her as she opened our bedroom door and turned towards Ray's room. She had not uttered a single word. And she had not put on a single stitch. 

An hour or so later we were sitting at the table and having breakfast. It was two weeks ago when we last had breakfast together and so much had happened in the interim. I had not then known about Brighton but even so, that was long enough ago to be discounted to a large extent. What I did know was that they had fucked at least three times since then. I watched their body language as Clare offered him a choice of cereals. They exchanged smiles as she passed him his cornflakes. Were their smiles warmer, given that they had made love within the past sixty minutes? Was his seed trickling out of her, even as she smiled at him? It was certainly a sensation to which she would soon become accustomed, because Ray would be staying overnight five or six times a week. 

Chapter 7

It was proving to be one of the best summers on record. The garden was ablaze with colour as lupines, delphiniums and foxgloves came into flower. We would take a glass of chilled wine and sit out in the garden during the long summer's evenings, confident in our belief that life did not get much better. We would go to bed with the windows wide open and wake to the sound of songbirds heralding the dawn of a new day. But sometimes I woke to a different sound, the sound of love making in the next bedroom. She would return to me, still wet from him, and I would find her irresistible.

The weekends were best, because she would be naked under her light cotton summer dress the whole time. We would usually have an alfresco lunch in the garden and find ourselves nodding off in the afternoon, the sultry stillness broken only by the sound of the distant cuckoo. More often than not, Clare and I would make love. In the early summer, modesty prevailed and we would go into the house, but later on we grew bolder, and would do so in the garden. Ray would pretend to be asleep, just like I did, on other days, when Ray, emboldened by my example, would beckon Clare over to sit on his exposed erection. I loved to watch her hitch her dress up, stand astride him and impale herself on it. 




Wilson's Web



We still told ourselves that getting her pregnant was the sole reason for Ray's involvement, but that was no longer strictly true. It was the main reason for sure, but not the sole reason. The fact was we were each deriving pleasure from it, and none more so than me. I liked to watch her on the end of that thick meaty cock of his. I loved having her after he had emptied himself in her; I liked the thought of my cock bathing in all his cum. I knew it was not normal behaviour but I could not help myself.

But idyllic as those summer days were, there were occasions when I resented Ray's continual presence, not because of anything he had said or done, but simply because Clare and I were very rarely alone. 

She had now missed two periods with no sign of the third. She was sure that she was pregnant, especially as the self-testing kit had also given a positive reading. She would soon know for certain, because she had fixed a date to see her doctor. 

It was the weekend preceding this appointment. I was demolishing a shed in the garden and Ray had offered to help. Clare took the opportunity to go shopping. It was another hot day and Ray and I were both sweating freely from our exertions, and both covered in dust and sundry other grime. We finally finished the task, and sat down to enjoy two long, cold and very well deserved lagers. 

I was about to discuss the implications of Clare being confirmed pregnant, when she appeared. She had returned from shopping, earlier than I had anticipated.

"God," she said, as mischievous as ever, "look at the state of you two!"

"We have been working, Clare," I said, "pulling down a shed," and then in a playful tone, "not meandering around half a dozen boutiques, tough as I'm sure that is!"

"I only went to one, actually." She put her nose in the air. "Most of the time has been spent in Mamas and Papas, looking at prams and baby wear! And don't think you're going to get out of it, Tom. If I do get the confirmation on Thursday, I'll want you to come there with me, next weekend."

If she were confirmed, I expected we would be making many such visits in the future. In all probability, we would be shopping for the baby most weekends. The thought suddenly occurred to me that this current weekend was possibly the last opportunity we would ever have to let ourselves go.

I showered, but as it was so humid, all I put on was a tee shirt and a pair of thin shorts. Ray followed my sartorial lead, and did likewise. We went out into the garden with a couple of cold lagers. It was a very sultry evening, and there was a distinct possibility of a thunderstorm. 

A short while later Clare appeared, a glass of chilled Chablis in hand. She too, had showered, and had put on a cropped, white, cotton top that showed off half her midriff, together with a pale-green short skirt that sat quite low on her hips. She sat down on the swing-couch and rocked back and forth. Over to the west, there was a flash of lightning, and some little while later, we heard a distant rumble. 

"So did you buy anything nice today, Clare?" Ray asked.

"Not much really... just a camisole top and matching panties."

"Are you going to show us?" he continued.

She got off the couch, and as she did so, I was treated to a fleeting glimpse of her bare pudenda. She returned, carrying a small bag emblazoned with the name, Victoria's Secret. 

The temperature had begun to drop, and Clare's nipples were prominent, as she reached into the bag, and pulled out the silver grey camisole. She unfolded it and held it against her body. There was another flash of lightning and another peal of thunder. The storm was getting closer.

"Very nice," I said, "Why don't you put it on for us?" 

Clare did not demur, but crossed her arms and pulled off the white top. Exposure to the evening air caused her nipples to stand out even more. She donned the grey camisole. Had it been flesh-toned as opposed to grey, it would have looked as if she were topless because it clung to her soft contours like a second skin. It was not just clinging to her nipples; it was clinging to her areolae and even to the goose bumps on them. She had rarely looked more desirable.

"What about the panties, Clare?" I glanced at Ray as I spoke. 

She looked at us both and then got to her feet. She undid the catch of her skirt and stepped out of it, revealing her naked femininity in all its sweet glory. Clare had changed over the past few weeks. Whilst she was never embarrassed about being naked in front of me, she was not one to flaunt it; she had an ingrained modesty. Now, she seemed to think no more of stripping down to the buff, than of taking off her coat, and it was this newfound casualness about her nudity that I found so fascinating. 

She retrieved the panties from the bag, and turning away from us, she bent down in order to slip them over first the one foot, and then the other. As she did so, Ray and I had a perfect view, not just of the bare cheeks of her delightful backside, but even of her anus. She quickly pulled them up and wriggled her hips to make herself comfortable. Clare favoured the same style of panties. They were always cut high, always revealed most of her pert backside, but unlike G-strings, the thin strip that nestled between her buttocks flared out before it connected to the waistband. The net result was a sexy rather than a tarty appearance. And these were certainly sexy, especially in the way that the silver grey material set off the perfection of her backside. 

She turned round to face us. The waistband swooped down so low in front that it barely covered her mons veneris, but even though it was covered, it was certainly not concealed, because the shadow of her pubis was clearly discernible through the fine material. She looked fantastic, but I did not tell her. I did not need to; my erection was already tenting my shorts.

Throwing caution to the winds, I stood up and removed them, exposing my jutting erection. I sat back down again and began to gently stroke myself.

"Clare," I said in a breathless voice, "you really are the most saucy little minx! Come over here, and sit on me."

She looked at both of us in turn, before she walked across and positioned herself astride my legs, facing me. She reached down between her legs and pulled aside the thin strip of material that purported to cover her cleft. She bent her knees and slowly lowered herself on to my raging hard-on. At that point, I closed my eyes in order to concentrate fully on the intense pleasure emanating from my dick. She sank down on me and our hairs meshed. I was buried to my balls in the one I love and it was truly exquisite. With her facing me, I was not able to use my finger on her clit; but I could use my thumb.

I heard the sound of a zip being undone, followed by footsteps behind me. I opened my eyes to find Clare leaning forward over my shoulder. I turned in her direction and found myself with a face full of Ray's dick. He was standing on the raised terrace behind the rustic bench on which I was sitting, and Clare had started to give him head. She had skewered herself on us both. 

I fondled her breasts and nipples through the thin camisole, as I watched her working on him. She squirmed on me, alternately clenching and relaxing her inner muscles. It was exciting enough watching her when she performed oral sex on me; watching her with Ray was just amazing. It was the first time I had ever seen her do it with anyone else, and it was happening just inches from my face. Because he was that much thicker than I was, she had to open her mouth wider than normal to accommodate him. However, she did not look in any discomfort. On the contrary, she gave every impression of enjoying the experience. And who could blame her, because there was no denying that Ray's was a very handsome cock. 

By now we were oblivious to the rumble of thunder getting ever closer. All I heard was the glottal sounds from Clare as she tried to accommodate as much of him as she could. She took it out and looked at it, at the saliva covered mushroom head and at his thick wet shaft. She smiled at us both before she cradled his heavy balls and began to lick the crown. 

"Clare!" I sounded desperate. She turned to me and I kissed her passionately. The tongue that had just been licking Ray was immediately in my mouth.

A short while later, I watched her mouth envelope his crown and her lips creep down the shaft, millimetre by millimetre. For one moment, our eyes met. Hers were filled with love for me, even if her mouth was filled with Ray's cock. His breathing began to change, and it was obvious that he was close to ejaculating.

I redoubled my efforts on her clitoris and brought her to the very edge of her orgasm. My freedom to move was somewhat restricted, but I still tried to fuck her, determined to ensure that my own long-sought relief would coincide with theirs.

It was Ray that triggered things off. He groaned loudly and began to come. I had worked it just right, because Clare's orgasm started and waves of pleasure were washing over her. 

She must have lost concentration because she let him slip out of her mouth. He was still ejaculating, and her face was spattered. Strands of thick pearly white cum were trickling down her chin and forming icicles of sperm before dropping on to her brand new camisole. Seeing her like this brought on my own release. Even though her face was covered with Ray's essence, I was kissing her. Kissing her and kissing his cum, as I continued jetting mine into her. 

Having come down from my sexual high, I was now embarrassed at what I had just done, especially as I could still taste it. I was also aware that something else was not quite right; the birds had stopped singing. Suddenly there was a flash of lightning, instantly followed by the loudest clap of thunder I have ever heard. The Heavens opened, the rain came down in sheets and we had to rush indoors to escape.

Chapter 8

It was the day of Clare's appointment. I was in my office when she phoned. She was so excited that she could hardly get the words out. "Tom, I've just left the doctor's. It's been confirmed; I'm three months! Isn't it wonderful news?"

Her excitement was contagious and I could hardly contain my own joy at the news. It was what we had both wanted; at last Clare was to be a mother. She was going to have a baby; we would have a child to love and to bring up. 

"I think I am going to have to start spoiling you Clare. How about going out to dinner tonight to celebrate?"

"That would be very nice. What about Ray?"

"What... inviting him out too? I hadn't thought of that, but you're right, we should." 

"No, I meant are you going to tell Ray, or shall I?"

"Well if we're going to invite him out to dinner, we could tell him together." 

I phoned three restaurants before I found one that was able to accommodate us.

On the way home I bought her some flowers. She was already home and as I opened the front door I was rewarded with kisses, hugs and tears. I held her in my arms, inhaling the fragrance of her freshly shampooed silky dark hair. 

"I'm so happy, Tom!" 

"Me too! And you've still not told Ray yet?"

"No, we agreed we'd tell him together. There's something else we have to tell him too. I think we have to bring this to an end. It's all getting a bit heavy. Anyway, I am pregnant now, so this would be the ideal time to stop."

She said it was getting a bit heavy. That could only mean that one, or maybe both of them, were getting emotionally involved? Was that so surprising? Could they really go to bed so often, and not get emotionally involved? Perhaps it was becoming a risk to our marriage. And she had said, right at the outset, that she would not allow anything to jeopardise that.

"OK Clare, we'll tell him 

"How do you think he's going to react?"

"That's a good question, Clare. I suspect he'll have mixed feelings. He'll be genuinely happy for us, of course, but I think he'll also be sad, because it means he won't be getting to shaft you anymore. But that was the deal; his role was to get you pregnant; I didn't offer him a bloody season ticket!"

Hearing my irreverent comment, she looked to the sky. "You have such a tactful way of saying things, Tom. I think it will be better all round if I tell him on my own. I hope you are not going to argue." 

I had just come out of the shower when Ray arrived and let himself in. Clare called him up and he joined us in the bedroom. Clare was in a filmy pastel blue bra and matching high cut knickers. 

"I hope you're not going to put anything else on, Clare!" he said as they kissed hello. "Hi, Tom," he looked at me in my naked glory, "I certainly hope you are!"

Clare could not contain her excitement. 

"We were going to tell you in the restaurant, Ray. It has been confirmed. I'm three months!"

He seemed overjoyed at the news. He even hugged me, naked as I still was!

He held Clare in his arms and just looked into her eyes. "I am so pleased for you both, I really am." 

He casually slipped his hand inside the back of her knickers and playfully pinched her buttock. Although it was utterly illogical, it annoyed me to see him touching her in such a familiar way. I tried to rationalise my thoughts. I had been content to let him fuck her, indeed for him to make her pregnant, so why should I draw the line at his pinching her bum? Was it because this gesture implied a deeper intimacy than mere fucking? Ray's eyes met mine in the mirror, and I realised that my annoyance had registered with him

Clare resumed getting ready, putting on a white lace-trimmed camisole top and a short, soft pink skirt. Ray and I both agreed that she looked very nice indeed. We had no sooner sat down in the lounge than the taxi arrived.

It might not have been my first choice but it was still a good restaurant with attractive décor, an extensive menu and attentive waiters. We were sitting at a table by the window, perusing the menu. The waiter came to take our drinks order. Ray picked up the wine list and turned to the page showing sparkling wines.

"This calls for a celebration. We'll have the vintage Moet please."

"And if I may be so bold as to ask," the waiter simpered, "what are you celebrating?" 

Clare smiled. A heart warming, life enhancing, everything is at peace in the world type smile. "I'm expecting a baby." 

"And which one of you gentlemen is the expectant father?"

Ray and I went to speak at the same time, gave way to each other, and after a brief pause, we were again speaking simultaneously. 

Clare resolved the issue. "He is," she said, pointing at me.

"Congratulations, Sir." There was another false smile.

He went away and I swear he was shaking his head at our apparent confusion in answer to his simple question. He was expressing his disapproval in that subtle, superior way that only the most practised of waiters can accomplish.

In her newly confirmed pregnant condition, Clare was careful not to drink too much alcohol. She consumed just the one glass of champers and was now drinking a small red wine. We had really chosen well and were enjoying an excellent meal.

"Has the fact that you're going to be a mother sunk in yet, Clare?" 

"Not really, Ray, not yet anyway. Mind you it might be different when I'm big and unattractive." A wry smile crossed her face.

Ray glanced at me as he spoke. "You will never be unattractive, Clare." 

His remark said it all; he was falling for her! Or maybe I was wrong; he had already fallen. He picked up his wine. 

"Here's to the two of you!"

"And to you, Ray," Clare raised her glass in response.

"To you Ray." I echoed. I would have said more, but I was still a bit miffed with him. 

"It was a pleasure," he beamed at Clare, "a real pleasure." His smile disappeared and he became serious. "And now, I suppose, this is the end of a beautiful relationship."

I was pleased at this turn of events, pleased that Ray was obviously aware that his time was up. I had been thinking of how Clare would raise this subject. It was just as well that she insisted that she do it. I would not have been as tactful, and even less so now that he had pinched her bum. Well, he'd brought the subject up, and she could now tell him; at least one problem would be out of the way. Clare's words permeated my consciousness. 

"Ray," she said, "this is a celebration, a celebration for the three of us. I don't think we need to discuss this topic tonight!" 

I groaned inwardly. What is that saying about the best-laid plans of mice and men? Why did she have to say that? Was she hoping that he'd screw her tonight, before she told him tomorrow that he was redundant? 

A short while later she left us at the table and went to the ladies'. She had returned by the time the dessert trolley appeared. She could not make up her mind what she wanted, and in the end the waiter said that she could have a little bit of everything. He too, was rewarded with her smile. We had finished the dessert and were waiting for the coffees when Ray disappeared. 

Clare handed me something and asked me to put it in my pocket. I glanced down as I took it from her. It was her knickers! She had a broad smile on her face.

"You looked a bit sad earlier," she said, "so I thought I'd try and cheer you up."

I was still simmering over her failure to tell Ray. 

"Oh, really?" I sneered, " Or is it so that he can fuck you, the minute you get home?"

I regretted my words the moment I said them. Her lip quivered and her eyes welled up with tears. She rummaged around in her handbag, trying to find a tissue. Finding anything in there was a difficult enough task at the best of times, but it was almost impossible when her eyes were watering and she could not see. I handed her my clean handkerchief.

"I'm really sorry, Clare. I should not have said that."

Ray appeared and immediately noticed that Clare was crying. Seeing him, she got up from her chair and disappeared in the direction of the ladies'.

"Don't ask, Ray," I volunteered. "I've been a stupid idiot and said something that I shouldn't have."

"I won't ask, Tom. I don't do domestics. Look, will you say goodnight to her for me. My taxi is already waiting outside."

He must have seen the look of surprise on my face.

"Didn't Clare tell you? She said she was going to."

"Tell me what?"

"That I'm going home, tonight. My home. You two have got something to celebrate and you certainly don't need me around. Oh, and I've paid the bill, by the way. Night."

He strode off. I put my head in my hands. What a fool I had been. She had taken them off solely for my benefit, yet I had accused her of doing it for Ray's. The supercilious wine-waiter appeared as if by magic, and enquired if anything was the matter. 

"Well yes, since you're so interested, there is. I have just managed to upset my wife and totally ruin what was meant to be a celebration dinner. And to make matters even worse, we're still waiting for our bloody coffee!"

Chapter 9

I paid the taxi and followed Clare into our house. She had not said a single word to me on the way home. I was ashamed of myself, ashamed that I had been so insensitive. She had done nothing to deserve such a crass remark. How could I profess to love her and yet come out with something like that? She did not deserve someone like me. It was more than that; I did not deserve someone like her. I caught up with her in the kitchen.

"Clare, I am really sorry. I can't take the words back, but believe me, I would if I could."

She looked at me though red-rimmed eyes. "How could you say such a thing?" 

I tried to explain, but my explanation was puerile, utterly puerile. In essence I was blaming her for Ray's over-familiarity with her, blaming her for my own impotence. I looked at the floor, knowing full well that if I were to look at her, I would also break down in tears. 




Wilson's Web



But it was to no avail because I no sooner felt her arms envelop me, than I too, was silently weeping. I had set out to comfort her, but instead she was now comforting me; comforting me even though I was responsible for the whole thing in the first place. I looked into her eyes. What a sight we must have been. Both of us in tears, yet each trying to console the other. 

I embraced her, my wife and the embryonic life form growing within. We kissed and I felt for her backside. It was an instinctive movement to lift her skirt and to caress her beautiful bum through her panties. 

But of course she wasn't wearing any! They were still in my pocket. The wispy item would have afforded her no protection of any kind, yet she seemed so vulnerable without it. I felt her fingertips on my neck. We kissed and I again tasted her salty tears. I caressed the cheeks of her pert behind before pressing her against my erection. Erection? I had not even realised I had one. 

We sank to the floor. Of all the rooms in the house we chose the kitchen, the one room that had no carpet, only a cold, hard, unyielding, ceramic floor. She was now on her back on this unforgiving surface, her skirt hooked up on something, her femininity fully on show. I positioned myself so that I could kiss her sweet little box, could kiss her opening, could lick her cleft, could suck her clitoris, could bring her relief, and in so doing, atone for my sins. I tasted her divine wetness, cupping her buttocks as I forced my tongue in her. I could so easily have bruised this fragile beauty, but she seemed to be oblivious. 

I felt her hand on my zip, and a moment later my rigid cock was enveloped in her hungry mouth. Now she had both hands on my backside, and was forcing me down, forcing me further into her mouth. 

She was close to her climax and I renewed my oral ministrations on her clit. I was doing my best not to come just yet, but it was not far away. She suddenly tensed and pushed herself hard into my face. Feeling the intense heat and wetness of her orgasm was the trigger for mine and we came into each other's mouths. It was a wondrous moment of blissful sexual release, but it was more than that; it was also one of unalloyed love. 

A ceramic floor is nice to look at and easy to clean but it leaves a lot to be desired as far as its suitability for mad passionate sex. And it is certainly not a surface for those languid post coital moments. In fact it was so uncomfortable that we had to stand up the moment we had finished.

"I do so love you, Tom."

"You mean more to me, Clare, than anything else in the world. I am sorry about..."

I did not finish my words. She placed her fingers to my lips and stilled them.

"You should have told me before, Tom. I did not have to keep going with him, you know. I thought you liked me doing it. I could have stopped much earlier, if I had known." 

But that was the trouble. I had not wanted her to stop. We went to bed and I held her in my arms as I nodded off. 

I heard the bedroom door open. I looked at the bedside clock. It was just gone eight.

"I've made you some tea." Clare, wearing a white camisole and tiny briefs, was standing next to the bed, holding a tray on which were two mugs. Her hair was tousled, but it gave her a sleepy sensual appearance.

"You're up early, Clare.

"Ray told me last night he'd be around for his car this morning at seven. I got up early so that I could talk to him."

"And did you...talk to him?"

"Yes, I did."

"How did he take it?"

"He actually took it very well. He was expecting it, I think."

"So what's he going to do now?"

"He's not sure. But he's asked me to keep him informed about how I'm getting on. He said that, provided we agree, he would still like to come round occasionally, but that he will not stop the night. He's even talking about making a new start, whatever that means."

I did feel for him. I could not begin to imagine how I would cope if I lost my beloved Clare.

"Come back into bed with me."

She pulled back the sheet to expose my erection. There was a soft smile playing round her lips. 

"What, is he lonely then, Tom? Does he want someone to play with?"

"Not someone, Clare. You!"

She needed no further invitation; she slipped off her panties and climbed into bed. We snuggled up together, and the next moment we were kissing passionately. I felt her nipples through her camisole, and cupped her soft round breasts. She reached down between us and gently grasped my erection. 

"And I need you, Tom. No one else, just you."

I could not say anything more, but that was only because her tongue was halfway down my throat. She was writhing against me as I insinuated my finger into her wet cleft. I felt for her opening and pushed it in, up to my knuckle. 

She began to stroke me.

"Are you going to be content with just me?" 

"I've always been content with you, Tom, and I always will be." 

"Won't you miss the sex with Ray?"

"Why should I, when I have you?" She paused for a moment. When she resumed there was a breathlessness in her voice. "I want you, Tom." 

She parted her legs and I climbed between them. She guided me into her hot depths. She was wet, but this time it was all her own doing. She raised her legs and I trapped them with my arms. I loved her in this position because it afforded me maximum penetration. 

She was staring at me all the time as I slowly sank into her. 

"I want you to fuck me really hard, Tom!"

I have fucked her hard in the past, but never, never as hard as this. Sometimes, I would power into her so forcefully that she would involuntarily blink. And she would respond with another adjuration to be harder still. I tried, God, how I tried! Surely I had to be hurting her, hurting her delicate femininity, as her body juddered, and the bed banged against the wall. I continued, aware from my pounding heart that I was not as fit as I ought to be; and I made a mental note to resume going to the gym.  

I thrust into her one last time and then I was coming, jetting my semen into her core. Spasm after spasm overcame me; I do not think I have ever gone on for so long. I collapsed on Clare, drained in both senses of the word. Realising that my weight was bearing down on her, I tried to get off, but she held me firm in her arms. We kissed, a kiss now devoid of sexual passion, but replete with love and devotion.

She had a smile on her face as she looked at me. "And you thought I'd miss the sex with Ray! He and I have never had sex as good as we've just had!"

I lay down alongside her, never more content with my lot in life. She was on her back and already beginning to nod off. She looked so vulnerable, so fragile in repose that it was difficult to reconcile this woman with the one to whom I had just made love; the one who had entreated me to power into her ever harder. 

I studied my alluring wife as she slept. Were her lovely little breasts any fuller? Was her stomach any fatter? Not yet, but it was only a matter of time. I asked myself what was it about her that I loved the most. Yes, she was gorgeous looking, and she really did have a lovely figure. But I think what I really loved the most was her personality, her caring nature, her generosity of spirit. It was her inner beauty. She might, or might not, get back her shape after childbirth. Her natural loveliness would surely be challenged by the passing of the years. But her inner beauty would remain with her for as long as she lived.

Chapter 10

Summer turned to autumn and the trees took on various copper hues. Clare was often on the phone to Ray. She told me that Ray wanted to know everything that was happening to her. She believed he was compensating for his being deprived of Fran going to full-term. But I was not totally convinced. I was worried that there might be another motive; that he really had fallen for her. Would he renege on his commitment, and use the baby as a means to stay in close contact with her? And what about Clare? She had tried to reassure me, saying that she could have stopped having sex with him earlier. I did not doubt she meant what she said, but other hormones were now active. Could she really bear his child and not feel something special for him? And, horror of horrors, might she actually leave me, for the father of her baby? Surely, it could not happen, and yet... 

Autumn became winter and Clare, now six months gone, radiated serenity. A smile from her and I would feel at peace with the world. A frown, and my deep-seated concerns would resurface; my mood would become as black as the wintry weather. But winter passes too, and the first daffodils of the spring had just started to appear when Clare went into labour and Laura was born.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They were both still asleep so I left a note saying that I was going to pop home for a shower and a change of clothing. I also wanted to make some phone calls. I got home about two in the afternoon. I was starting to feel really tired but a shower did wonders for me. I looked at the clock to work out the time in Vancouver where my mother now lived. It was just after three in the afternoon here in London, which would make it about seven in the morning there. I was just about to ring her with the news when the phone rang. Clare was on the line.

"Hello Tom, I've just seen the doctor and I can come out."

"Brilliant! So everything's ok then?"

"Well, not quite. Laura's got a slight problem. She has a web of skin between her second and third toes on her left foot. The doctor has written down the medical name for it. I'm not sure how you say it, but it is spelt 'syn..dac..tyl..yl.' Laura's is a very mild form, because sometimes the bones themselves are fused together. She will require minor surgery to separate them, but they won't do it until she's at least six months old. The doctor assured me it is a routine operation. The good news, Tom, is that she's in perfect health otherwise."

"That's a relief then. You really had me worried for a moment, Clare. I'm just going to ring Mum and then I'll pick you up. I should be there in say, one hour. I suppose I ought to let Ray know that you're coming home. He's bound to want to see Laura." 

"Tom?"

"Yes."

"I love you." 

"I love you too, Clare, and our little Laura."

I dialled Vancouver. Ted answered the phone in his Canadian drawl. 

"Hiya Tom, how's it goin'? Is my Ellie a grandma yet?"

"Yes she is Ted. That's why I'm ringing."

"I'll get her for you Tom and you can tell her all about it. Congratulations anyway."

I heard him calling out her name. I liked Ted. He was a nice guy and really doted on Mum. They had been married now for five years. She had been widowed for about three years when they met, my father having died from cancer about ten years ago. 

"Hello Tom, dear."

"Hello Mum or I should say Grandma! You have a little granddaughter. She was born this morning. We're calling her Laura. She weighed seven pounds three ounces and she is very pretty."

"I'm so pleased for you son," she said, "and how are they both?"

"Clare's fine Mum, but we do have a little problem with Laura. She's got a web of skin linking two of her toes. The doctor did tell Clare what it's called; syndac something or other."

"Was it syndactylyl?" 

"Yes, I think it was." 

"That's nothing to worry about, Tom. It's just a minor operation to separate them."

"Really?" 

"Yes! You had it yourself when you were a baby. It's hereditary. We used to say it was 'Wilson's Web'. You had it; your dad had it and so did his sister, your aunt Iris. I think your grandfather had it too, but we never knew for sure because he was killed in the war."

"You never told me I had it."

"Didn't I? It just goes to show how trivial it was then. I think you were less than a year old when you had yours done. All it entailed was a bit of surgery and a couple of small skin grafts. So there's no need to be getting overly worried. Now tell me, when are they coming home?" 

"I am going to collect them from the hospital in a little while."

It was when I put the phone down that the real significance of what Mum had said really hit me. Laura had 'Wilson's Web'. She had got it from me. I was Laura's biological father! She was my daughter! Who would have thought it? I had no idea of the numbers involved but I fondly imagined my lone potent sperm, hopelessly outnumbered by thousands of Ray's, but still managing to attach itself to Clare's egg in order to fertilise it. I could not help smiling to myself. I might not produce that much potent sperm, but mine was like the Pony Express; it always got through! 

I was still smiling when I strode through the hospital corridor, a blissfully happy father, with baby carrier to prove it.

I went into the maternity ward where Clare was sitting on the bed waiting for me. 

"Hello Laura's mum."

"Hello Laura's dad!" 

It was so wonderful to hear Clare saying this, and now that I knew it to be actually true, it brought a lump to my throat. I sat down next to her and related what my mother had said. By the time I had finished, we were both in tears. A nurse asked us if we were all right.

"We really couldn't be better thank you," I said.

A short while later I noticed that Clare was frowning. 

"Nothing's the matter, is it Clare?" 

She smiled at me. Her eyes were still wet.

"No, not really Tom. But I'm just thinking, what do we say to Ray? He thinks he's the father and it will be a terrible disappointment when he finds out that he's not."

"Does he have to know Clare?"

"What do you mean?" She looked nonplussed. 

"Well as you say he will be really disappointed and he's only now showing signs that he is beginning to get over Fran. Now it might just be coincidence, but I think it's more likely it's because he thinks he's fathered Laura. What will happen if we tell him that this is not the case? Will he revert to his former depressive state? Why not let him continue to believe that he is her father? It can't do any harm can it? 

Remember he promised that Laura would be ours whatever her paternity. The only thing different is that now we have the comfort of knowing that even if he were to change his mind, we will be able to prove that she is mine."

I left her in the lobby of the hospital as I went to fetch the car. As I drove up to the main door she came out holding the baby carrier into which Laura had been securely strapped. The baby seat bracket was already in place on the rear seat, and I locked the baby carrier into it. Clare opted to travel in the back to keep an eye on her.

I could not have been more careful as I drove home with my precious cargo. 

Ray was already in the house when we arrived. He was overjoyed to see Laura, and I knew we had made the right decision not to inform him about her paternity. 

I poured out the champagne. Ray picked up his glass before clearing his throat. 

"Congratulations to you both. Laura is absolutely lovely and you must be very proud of your baby daughter. I said 'your daughter' and that's exactly what I meant. She is yours Tom, not mine. So a toast then, to Laura's future. May she be happy and healthy."

We clinked our glasses in time-honoured fashion. Ray spoke again. "There is something else I want to say to you both and this is the ideal opportunity. Three months ago I applied to emigrate to Australia." He paused for a moment. "I've now been accepted. I intend to make a new start there."

Clare and I looked at each other as he continued. "There are three reasons for my decision, but any one of them would have been enough." A wry smile crossed his face.

"And what are they? I'm looking at them now...it's the three of you!" He drank some more of his champagne. "When Fran and the baby died I didn't want to go on; at one point I actually contemplated suicide. You two pulled me through, and I can never repay you for what you did. 

"But then things became a bit more complicated when you decided you wanted a baby. Having sex with you, Clare, was truly wonderful. I could easily fall in love with you, but I know it would be for the wrong reason. You're Fran's twin, not Fran. But it's not only that; you're the wife of my best friend. Is this how I repay the two of you after all that you've done for me ...by seeking to break up your marriage?"

I glanced at Clare and saw a single tear trickling down her cheek. I was choked too. How could I have doubted him? I felt ashamed of myself.

Ray was not finished. "And then there's Laura. We don't want her confused about her identity, do we? I will be more than happy if she knows she has an uncle Ray, and I will enjoy sending her a card and a present at Christmas and on her birthday." He was doing his best to conceal them but there were tears in his eyes, too. 

Clare opened her arms to him and they briefly kissed. "We're going to miss you Ray," she said in a voice breaking with emotion.

I picked up Laura, and the four of us fused into one.



Wilson's Whore



Author's Note: Fair warning, if mentioning church bothers you, then take a pass on this story, because Wilson is corrupting a nice, church-going girl.

*****

Wilson puffed once before softly inhaled another lungful of tobacco. The first puff heated up the cheery tip of his cigarette and released a little cloud of smoke before he filled his lungs with the second drag. At the last moment, he pulled away the cancer stick and sucked the smoke deeper inside where he held it for a long moment before releasing a new cloud of nicotine and carcinogens. Damn that felt good.

Wilson repeated the process again and again, feeling his stress fading away as the nicotine charged his pleasure receptors. He stood behind the little clothing store he managed and watched the small, red car pull into the space next to his. 

"You shouldn't do that," Kelly said, climbing out of her car and smiling at him. "It'll kill you."

"Something will," Wilson agreed, doing his best to keep his eyes focused on Kelly's pretty face. Her blue eyes matched the color of the sky behind her head, giving the illusion that he was looking through her, or she was looking through him. It was disquieting and cool at the same time. "My doctor once told me if I gave up smoking, drinking, and watching so much porn, I'd add another five years to my life. I told him, 'Who would want those five years?'"

"You're a mess," the skinny girl with curly blonde hair giggled. She propped her narrow ass on the hood of Wilson's car. He fought against letting his eyes drop to her chest. Kelly was naturally skinny and loved wearing skin tight shirts. She had once told him, "I look too flat chested if my shirt isn't tight enough," So she wore shirts tight enough to reveal every line of her bra, not that she needed to wear one, of course. If Wilson had to guess, he'd say her tits were barely b-cups. 

"I am mess," he smiled, glancing at the white tube of paper and tobacco and measuring how many more puffs he could take before it was over. Unfavorable tax laws had made the damn things too expensive to waste one. "I'm a drunk, a pervert, and a smoker, sort of a triple whammy."

"Two out of three of those aren't bad," Kelly grinned. Her smile did more than light up her face, it lit up Wilson's world. "Your problem is you make too much money. Why don't you give me that money instead of spending it on cigarettes?"

"Tempting," he mused, grinning because he knew she was kidding. "I'd do it if I was buying the right thing from you, but that would make you a whore and I don't think a nice girl like you wants to be a whore."

"All nice girls secretly want to be whores," she said. "Remember what I did that one time for twenty dollars?"

"How could I forget?" he asked, purposely looking at her tits. During a conversation three months ago, he mentioned going to a strip club. She had accused him of having too much money that time, too. As a joke, he had said, "I'll give you twenty bucks to show me your tits. To his surprise, she looked both ways, saw they were alone and earned every penny of it.

"Give me your cigarette money and maybe I'll do it again."

"Tempting," he said, finishing off his smoke. He carefully flicked off the cherry and tossed the butt in a bucket next to his back door. "But I spend a lot more than twenty dollars a week on smokes." He flipped opened his pack and tapped out another. 

Kelly pushed off his car, stepped up to him and pulled the cigarette from his lips. She took the pack from his hands, too. He stared at her tiny hands, worried she was going to crush his smokes. Instead, she flipped open the back, put the cigarette back inside and smiled. "Here's your choice. You can have these back or you can touch them."

"Touch what?"

"My tits, silly. For one whole minute."

Wilson took a good long look at her chest before pulling his eyes back up to her pretty blue ones. "You're kidding, right?" he asked, keeping half a watchful eye on his cigarettes, too. He didn't trust her. She only smiled as she waited for his decision. "Through your shirt or underneath?"

"However you want it."

"Will you take off your bra first?"

"Can I break three of these first?" she asked, flipping open the pack. That felt like more than even trade. 

"Go for it."

She did just break three cigarettes, she pulverized them until they were nothing more than loose tobacco and filters in his ash can. She shoved the rest of the pack in her back pocket, arched her back and fished behind her back. He saw the elastic band relax. Working through her short sleeve, she pulled her elbow out of one strap. Reaching inside her shirt from her opposite sleeve, she pulled out her bra and handed it to him. "Believe me now?"

"You know I'm just going to buy another pack as soon as I get off work."

"Maybe," she said, leaving her back arched and her tiny titties thrusted in his direction. "But at least you'll have to wait until you do and I think that would be good for you."

Wilson looked both ways. They stood behind the small strip center where only employees parked. It was too late in the day for a delivery. Their chances of being caught were slim to none. As he considered taking her up on the offer, she pulled her shirt tail out of her jeans, tilted her head and kept smiling. 

"It's really that hard of a decision?" she asked.

"I'm more concerned what it means if I do this," he said, looking her in the eyes again. "You're a nice girl, Kelly. Good girls don't do this sort of thing."

"Let me worry about how good I want to be," she said, fidgeting. He couldn't be sure, but it looked as if her nipples had gotten hard. 

"Fuck it," he decided, shoving his hands up her top and pressing her against the hood of his car. Kelly leaned backwards but not because she was pulling away. It was because he was pressing against her. 

He purposely shoved her shirt upwards as he felt her tiny titties, giving himself a show at the same time. Kelly grabbed his neck for support and giggled as his fingers tweaked her nipples. He rolled them between his finger and thumb, appreciating how they felt stiff while fighting against the urge to kiss them. He pressed his hands flat against both of them, verifying that she had less than handful and ended with tweaking them before pulling away. He was nice enough to pull down her top, too.

"Was it worth it?" she asked, crushing each cigarette before tossing it into the trash.

"God yes," he said, knowing he would be thinking about how her tits felt later when he jerked off. "I can't believe you let me do that."

"Me neither," she said, snatching her bra from him before darting towards the back door of her store. "Later neighbor!" 

Wilson remained outside for another minute. He looked inside the ash bin, studying it for half a butt that might still be smokable. He gave up and went back inside his store. He had two more hours before he got off work. He could make it, couldn't he?

-

With an hour left to his day, his closers showed up. Wilson drifted next door after they clocked in. Kelly was busy re-folding t-shirts. He picked up a stack and helped her. "I can't believe you did that," he said.

She shrugged. "Why not?"

"I don't know, because you're a good girl?" 

"Just because I go to church every Sunday and don't sleep around, that doesn't make me a good girl. I have needs, too."

"When was the last time you did it?"

"My last boyfriend and I used to do it all the time," she said with a faint blush that showed up so easily on her ivory white skin.

"And the two of you broke up how long ago?"

"A couple months ago, but you know why. He was cheating on me and we were supposed to be engaged."

"He never gave you a ring," Wilson pointed out. 

She nodded and sighed. "Okay, you got that one right."

"Us old guys are good that."

"You're not that old."

"Old enough to be your uncle," Wilson said, knowing she had at least one very young uncle. Kelly was a very young looking twenty-one. If she was drinker, he knew she got carded every time. Meanwhile, he hadn't been carded since his 30th birthday. 

"At least I had a boyfriend. When was the last time you had a girlfriend?"

"I keep telling you, girls don't want to date a pervert like me. But it's okay. Feel my hands," he said, holding out his right hand. She felt it. "Soft, isn't it?"

"I noticed that earlier," she smirked without picking up on his joke.

"They're soft because I use a lot of lotion," he said. 

She blinked, nodded and smiled as the joke went over her pretty head. "So? I like using lotion, too."

Wilson rolled his eyes and chuckled. "When a guy says that, he means he jerks off a lot."

"Oohh!" Kelly said, picking up on it. A moment later, she stopped folding the t-shirt she held, looked at him with wide eyes and asked, "Really?"

"It's a joke."

"I know, I get that. I'm not a stupid blonde. Is that really why your hands are so soft?"

"Maybe," he teased, enjoying the way she blushed. 

"If you had a girlfriend, you wouldn't have to use so much lotion."

"I would have a girlfriend if I could find a pervert like me."

"Maybe you'd have a girlfriend if you quit smoking, too. You know we don't think that's cool anymore, right?"

"So I've heard," he said, wishing she hadn't gone there. If he stayed busy, he didn't think about smoking. He tried to push the thought away. "And maybe if I had the right girlfriend, I would quit."

"Except your idea of right is very wrong, isn't it?" Kelly asked, laughing as they landed on very familiar territory. "I could be wrong if you gave me enough cigarette money."

"No, that would make you a whore. We've covered that."

"Not if it worked," she said, smiling at their game. "If it worked, it would be more like a public service, wouldn't it?"

"Maybe," Wilson said, noticing the time and heading back to his store. He needed to countdown registers and email a sales report for he left for the day. And buy a pack of smokes, he reminded himself. 

After dinner that night, he did something he seldom did. Instead of staring at porn on his computer screen, he jerked off to a memory with his eyes closed. He pleasured himself while thinking about Kelly and replaying the feel of her tiny tits with firm nipples raking against his palms. He came faster and harder than usual. Afterwards, he washed his hands and picked up a cigarette. Instead of lighting it, he put it back in his pack. "For Kelly," he told the pack of smokes.

-

Kelly Swanson was doing her best to pay her way through college while working at the store next to his at the little strip shopping center. She had the kind of good girl aura about her that made strangers stand straighter and mind their manners around her. Wilson gave up on being good around the time she was born. 

In tiny bits and pieces, they had gotten to know each other over the last eight months. He knew about her family back in Arkansas, her boyfriends, and even which church she had attended. Along the way, she had heard about his first wife, his love for aquariums, and how he was completely happy slowly turning into a dirty old man. Though he was still on the good side of forty, they sometimes joked how much longer he had before the word "old" applied.

It was raining on Tuesday morning, which was never good for business. Wilson sat behind his counter playing games on his phone. Twice since getting to work, he had snuck out back for a smoke. Both times had left the front of his store empty and open for shoplifters, but on a rainy Tuesday in the middle of fall, he wasn't worried. 

It was near lunch time when Kelly stopped in carrying her McDonald's Happy Meal lunch. She used the edge of his cash and wrap as her table. "Did you use any lotion last night?"

"As a matter of fact," he grinned, saving his game and turning it off. "I know you don't want to hear about that part, but let me tell you what I did afterwards. I usually smoke after sex of any kind. Except last night. Instead, I put away that last cigarette because of you and I didn't smoke it until this morning."

"Hey, that's progress," she said, rewarding him with a big smile. "Did you think of me while you did it?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Probably not," she giggled. "If you did, should I be flattered or grossed out?"

"If you're flattered, I'll tell you about it more often."

"So, that wasn't the first time you thought of me?"

"I keep telling you, there's a freak hiding behind that good girl facade."

-

Another week slipped by as it usually does. Late in the afternoon, Wilson was leaning against wall behind his store with Kelly pulled up. Her little red car coughed and wheezed before shuddering to a stop. "Sounds bad," he said, not knowing a single thing about how to fix cars.

"It still runs," Kelly said, leaning against his car as he took another drag from his cancer stick. She shook her head. "I think we need a new rule. No smoking when you're around me."

"But if I don't smoke around you, how are you going to come up with another reason to let me feel you up?"

"Silly, we already worked that out, remember?"

As if listening to their conversation, her car gasped, shuddered, and coughed one more time. "You should really get that looked at."

"Let me help you quit smoking and I can," she joked, except she wasn't smiling as she said it. 

"What if I said, 'Yes?'" he asked, not really meaning it, at least, he didn't think he did. "What would you be willing to do for any extra, um, . . ." he did some quick math in his head. "Let's say an extra $125 dollars a week?"

"You spend that much on cigarettes?" she gasped.

"Eight dollars a pack and I usually smoke around two packs a day."

"You're killing yourself," she said, looking stunned.

"Yeah, well, something's gonna get me," he said, giving his usual excuse.

"Stop it," Kelly said, stepping up to him. She pulled the cigarette from his mouth and crushed it. While Wilson stood shocked, she fished in his pocket for his pack. Holding it up and away from him, she crumbled it.

"Hey!" he protested.

"Hey nothing," she said, grabbing his hand and putting on her chest. "There, is that better?"

"No," he said, pulling his hand away, except she stopped him. She held his hand over her tit, pressing it there.

"I'm serious. You promise you won't smoke another cigarette the rest of today and tomorrow morning, and when you see me, you can touch me anywhere you want to."

"I'm not going to give you money to do it."

"I don't care," she said, squeezing his hand and making him rub her chest. "One day, that's all I'm asking. And it's not even one whole day."

"How do you know I won't cheat?" he asked, hyper aware that she still held his hand against her tit.

"I don't," she admitted before shaking her finger at him. "But you better not do it, Mister, okay?"

"You're crazy," he said.

"No, you are!" she insisted and when he began caressing both of her tits, she looked down at his hands. Instead of stopping him, she smile and joked, "Now you made my nipples hard. How am I supposed to work with hard nipples?"

"I could loan you some lotion," Wilson joked.

"No, save it. You'll need it tonight when you think about groping me in the morning."

-

Wilson got through the last couple hours of his shift without much trouble. He popped in on Kelly before he left for the day. "I'm going to do it," he told her.

"Do it for you, okay?" she said, giving him a big smile. 

"But tomorrow, you're going to regret it," he warned. "One more question. Over or under your clothes?"

"Your choice. But no cheating!"

Wilson promised he wouldn't and got as far as the first traffic light towards home before he realized how challenging his night had begun. He caught the light exactly at red because the asshole in front of him refused to run the yellow. "Bastard," he muttered, tapping his hands on his steering wheel as he waiting out the long line of cars in both directions before his left turn arrow finally turned green. "About fucking time," he groaned, taking the turn and heading to home. The only thing that kept him from lighting up was the lack of a backup pack in his car. He passed the convenient store on the corner where he usually bought his smokes and kept rolling. 

Once inside his house, he wandered turned on the TV for some noise, went to the big master bedroom he no longer shared with anyone and got undressed. He hung up his clothes and stayed naked. Wilson enjoyed being naked. Since his divorce, he spent as much time as he could naked. Why not? The house was his and he could any damn thing he wanted to do in it.

Dinner became leftovers from last night and he ate naked in front of the TV. It wasn't until he was finished eating that he felt an uncontrollable urge for a smoke. On the counter sat a carton containing three more packs near a drawer where he kept his extra lighters. If he didn't open one of those packs, he would be safe. He went back to the living room and stared blankly at the TV while tapping his fingers on the leather chair. 

"You can do this," Wilson told himself, growing more agitated. "Think about Kelly. Think about those tiny little tittles and their pretty pink nipples." That helped. Remembering how her tits had looked in the bright sunlight behind their stores made him hard. If he was hard, he didn't feel as much like smoking. He caressed his hard-on and kept thinking about it. 

Kelly had light yellow blonde hair. Her skin remained alabaster white year round. She sometimes joked she had two colors, white or red and nothing in between. If she had tanlines, that meant she was in pain. When he had pushed up her tight t-shirt, he had exposed her nipples to the great outdoors. He doubted they ever felt the sun on them. Her nipples were a stark pink color, not rose or the color brown his ex-wife's nipples turned after she tanned, just pink. Like the inside of a Victoria Secrets, that color pink.

He wondered if she shaved. Probably not. Well sure, her legs. Didn't all women shave their legs and their pits? He doubted Kelly shaved her pussy. "Find out," he told himself. Tomorrow, when he touched her everywhere, he could shove his hand inside her panties and feel for himself. His cock throbbed as he enjoyed that idea. He considered her eyebrows. Kelly hated her blonde eyebrows because they were so light, it didn't look as if she had any. Was her pubic hair like that? Oh fuck, that would be sexy!

He rubbed his cock. He didn't rub himself enough to get off, just enough to make himself throb even more. Yeah, that felt good, really good. He got up and fixed a drink. He sipped at the bourbon over ice and obsessed about Kelly. Was she really that desperate for cash? What if he did it? What if he paid her his cigarette money week after week? What would that buy him? Would she blow him? Fuck him? More?

Wilson released a small groan as he considered the thought of Kelly on her knees in front of him. He pictured her pretty blue eyes staring up at him as her full, pouting lips slipped up and down his shaft. Did she even do that? He knew she wasn't a virgin because he had called her one while she was engaged and she insisted she wasn't a virgin and hadn't been one for a very long time. It was after they broke up that her money problems began and he realized why. They had been living together, sharing expenses and now she was shouldering them herself.

He found it tough imagining what a good, church-going girl like Kelly might or might not do in bed. Wilson had never found himself attracted to good girls. He liked women with an edge, someone slightly dangerous, like his ex-wife. He pushed away the thought of Betty and went back to thinking about Kelly. How far would Kelly go? 

-

Wilson drank himself into a stupor and kept a hard-on all night. He tried jerking off before he went to bed and couldn't. Fucking "whiskey dick." He could barely keep it up for his fevered fantasies. Giving up, he took a shower and went to bed. 




Wilson's Whore



In the morning, he reached for the pack of cigarettes that were usually on his nightstand. He came up empty and remembered why. "Fuck," he groaned, looking at the clock. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He took another shower just to kill time. He couldn't smoke in the shower. Before heading out the door, he snatched the mostly empty carton off the counter and tossed them on the passenger seat of his car. Those unopened packs of cigarettes were his proof that he had been good and his victory smoke after he felt up Kelly.

He weathered the drive into work without a cigarette, cussing at every driver's tiniest mistakes. He went through the drive-thru for coffee and burnt his tongue trying to drink it too soon. Finally, he parked behind the building where he sat in his car, tapping the steering wheel and waiting for Kelly. Five minutes turned into ten before her red car wheezed around the corner. He climbed out of his car, all smiles at last.

"Did you do it?" she asked as soon as she climbed out of her shaking, shuddering beast of a tiny car. 

"Here's my proof," he said, reaching in and holding up the mostly empty carton. "Three packs and not a one has been opened."

"I'm so proud of you!" Kelly squealed darting around her car and wrapping her arms around him. 

"Now tell me you were serious or I'm going to chain smoke all three of these packs."

Kelly giggled before giving him an unexpected kiss on the cheek. She pulled away from him and dragged him by the hand to her store's back door. "I don't think we need everyone to see this," she said. She was right. It was twenty minutes before opening and the other merchants would be arriving one-by-one.

-

They stood inside her backroom door. Unlike Wilson's store, the backroom of Kelly's store was spacious and empty looking. She held her arms out to her sides and slowly spun. "Here's your reward," she giggled. She took the carton of cigarettes away from him and put them on a shelf behind her.

"What are the rules?" he asked, suddenly shy about what he was going to do.

"No rules," she said, dancing close to him. Once again, she kissed his cheek. "You can touch me anywhere you want."

"Over and under your clothes?" he doubled checked. She nodded. "For however long I want to do it?"

"Well, we do have to open our stores in another fifteen minutes."

"It only takes five," he quipped.

"How do you want me? Like this?" She embraced him, pulling his hands around her. He noticed how she placed his hands directly on her ass. "Or like this?" she asked, turning around so her pert ass pressed against him. Without asking, she moved his hands over her tits.

"You're really going to let me do this?" he asked, nuzzling against her kinky, curly blonde hair.

"Yes," she said, pressing backwards against him. "Go for it, Wilson. You earned this."

Wilson slipped his hands over her front. She felt skinny but he felt muscle, too. Kelly had grown up as a ballet dancer and she often reminded him that she was stronger than she looked. "What if I want to do this?" he asked, slipping his fingertips beneath the waistband of her tight jeans.

"Hold on," she said. Figures, he thought, sure he had been approaching a "no" zone. Instead, she had unbutton her fly. "My jeans are really tight."

"Trust me, I've noticed," he confessed, inhaling deeply and smelling the sweetness of her shampoo. 

He slipped his hand across her flat belly again, low enough to touch the top of her panties. "Are you sure?" he asked again.

"Yes," she said, wiggling against him. That wiggle pressed her round, dancer ass against his most important parts and last's night failed orgasm came to haunt him. He started growing hard. Could she tell? Could she feel the change inside his pants with her ass?

Wilson changed directions with his hand, leaving her jeans gaping open as he slipped his hand up her shirt. He bunched it up as he went until he reached the cups of her bra. He pushed her bra upwards too and looked down from over her shoulder as his fingers touched her bare breasts. Once more, he saw those perfectly pink nipples and this time he sighed. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you," she said with another backwards squirm. 

"Is this making you excited?"

"Find out," she purred.

Wilson slipped his hand down her belly, fighting back the urge to press against her ass as his cock grew to its full length and girth. He fingered the thin elastic of her panties, pressing his fingers inside of it and reaching lower until he felt the first tuft of her pubic hair. It was a soft, down feeling group of curly hair and a moan escaped him. 

"Do it," she said. "Touch me. It's okay."

Cupping her sex, he instantly felt the heat of her arousal. His middle finger slipped between her nether lips, feeling how slick and needy she felt. In his mind, he flashed back to his teenager years copping a feel in the cramped confines of his old beater of a car. When he wiggled his fingers, Kelly pressed against his cock. There was no way she didn't notice the hard-on pressing against her. No way at all.

It wasn't part of their deal, but Wilson didn't care. He was too excited. He nuzzled his lips against her neck, kissing her just below her ear. "Does that feel good?" he cooed.

"Yes," she gasped.

"I know lots of ways to make you feel good and lots of ways to make you feel wrong."

"Prove it," she said, still pressing against his hard-on

Wilson turned her around in his arms, sliding his hand around her waist as she moved. He held her tightly against him as his hand needed the bare flesh of her asscheek. "You said I could touch you anywhere, right?" he asked.

"Hurry," she moaned. "We have to open soon."

"Anywhere," he flatly stated as he pushed her pants farther down with the back of his hand. He pushed until he could press her finger against her tight, puckered asshole. Kelly instantly went stiff as he wiggled his finger against her butt, forcing his first knuckle inside. "Be careful what you ask for, little girl," he whispered in her ear. "Or you'll meet a man who will take everything he can."

Wilson backed his finger out and tugged her pants back into place. She would still need to adjust her panties, but he didn't care about that. He took a step back and snatched the carton of cigarettes sitting on the shelf. 

"Wait," she said, pulling her bra over her tits and her t-shirt back place. "What are you going to do with those?"

"Right now? I'm going to smoke one before I open my store. I think I've earned it."

"Please don't," she said, adjusting her underwear before she gave a little hop while pulling her jeans back into place. 

"Aw, come on, Kelly. I'm dying for one," he protested. He could see the wheels turning in her head.

"Let me hold them and you can come over here and feel me up everytime you think you want to smoke for the rest of the day."

Wilson hesitated. "Are you serious? Anywhere?"

"Even back there," she said, picking up on what he was suggesting. 

Wilson eyed her from the door with his hand on the handle. "Take off your bra," he told her. "Work all day without your bra so I can feel your titties anytime I want."

"Deal," she said, taking off her bra the same magical way as before. She held out her hand for his smokes. Wilson handed them over, pushed up her shirt, and admired her tittites instead of caressing them. 

"I'm not sure who is crazier," he said, pulling down her shirt. He jabbed the front shirt tail inside her jeans before rushing out of her backdoor. They were both pushing opening time.

-

Wilson sniffed the finger that had visited Kelly's pussy, inhaling her aroma and groaning because of it. His hard cock ached inside his pants, providing him a lump the couldn't disguise. He rushed through his opening procedures, unlocked the front doors, logging into the corporate server, counting down drawers and checking his email. 

Finally settled, he sat behind his counter and nursed the aching sensation inside his pants while fighting off his lust for a smoke. He wondered if it was worth it. Yes, Kelly had a banging body. Yes, he could imagine a wide variety of sick and depraved things he'd like to do her. But he also wanted a damn cigarette. He paced his store, too proud to go next door and too frustrated to sit still.

The first hour of the day slowly passed when Kelly strolled into his store. "You realize I feel naked, right?" she asked.

"You? Look at me," he said, stepping out from his counter and gesturing at his crotch. 

"Did I do that?" she asked with a cute little giggle.

"Nah, I just randomly get hard whenever I go too long without a cigarette. It's why I smoke, so I don't rape women."

"Someone sounds irritable," Kelly said, smiling through his sarcasm. "It looks really big if that counts for anything."

"Come over here," Wilson demand, frustrated as hell. He had her stand behind his counter while he stood behind her. Keeping an eye on the front door, he shoved one hand inside her shirt and pulling her hips backwards with the other. He pressed his hard cock against her tight, jean clad ass. "You're a bitch, you know that?"

"Stay off the cigarettes and I'll be your bitch," she said, pressing back against him. "Do you think this is easy for me? I'm horny as hell."

"Yeah, whatever," he groaned wanting more than he could grab from behind the counter of his store. "Is Cindy working with you?"

"Yes," Kelly said. Cindy was the old woman who managed the store. She was not a pleasant person. 

"Did she notice you weren't wearing a bra?"

"I lied and told her I was wearing a sports bar."

Wilson laughed. There was no way that fat, crabby old bitch would know what a sports bra looked like. 

"She said I had to wear a real bra at work." Kelly squeezed out from between Wilson and the counter. "I need to get back."

"Will you come see me at lunch?"

"Sure," Kelly said, making an exaggerated hip sway as she left the store.

"Hussy!" Wilson called after her. He rubbed his hard cock while wondering if he could risk a visit to the bathroom to rub one out. How long would it take? As long as a smoke break? He had certainly taken plenty of those against company policy, hadn't he? Before he could make up his mind, a customer walked in. Wilson strategically remained behind the counter for the entire sale, pointing with his finger to things instead of walking the customer to the product. 

-

Kelly waltzed back into the store with her McDonald's bag and a big smile. "How's it hanging?" 

"It's not," Wilson growled, eyeing her skintight t-shirt and delights that rested just beneath that thin fabric. "You realize you're torturing me, right?"

"Because I made your dick hard or because I'm saving you from killing yourself?"

"Ya-know, for a church girl, you've got a twisted sense of humor," he grumbled. 

"Aw, come on, Wilson. Which is more fun, sucking on cigarette or playing these?" Smiling, she cupped both her tiny titties.

"You know I want to do more than play with them, right?"

She nodded while munching on fry. "I offered to sell myself to you."

"I can probably scrounge up an extra $125. How about giving me back my cigarettes, popping by my place after work tonight, and we'll both be happy."

Kelly shook her head and frowned. "That doesn't work for me, old man. If I'm going to sell myself to you, I have to offset that sin with something else."

"I'm not sure that how it works."

"Oh, and now you're going to preach to me?" she laughed. "Go ahead, quote a bible verse."

"John 11:35: Jesus wept," he said, reciting the shortest sentence in the King James Bible. 

"Good job," she beamed, chowing down on another french fry. "So, are we going to do this or not?"

"Do what?"

"You're a day and half away from your last cigarette. Make it until Tuesday and I'll be $125 richer."

"And then what?"

"And then you can have me one night week for every week you pay me and stay off cigarettes until I graduate."

"Bullshit," Wilson muttered, grouchy with withdrawal.

"Hey, fuck you!" Kelly shot back, staring him down. "What did I do this morning?"

"Let me feel you up," he admitted.

"Including my butt," she pointed out. "Do you realize no one has ever touched my butthole before you? And you stuck your finger in it!"

"Just the tip," he grinned.

"Yeah, well, it felt like a more than that to me!"

Wilson shrugged. "I guess that was a crappy thing to do."

"Ew!"

"Sorry," he said, catching the extra meaning too late. Through his grin, he said, "You said I could touch you anywhere."

"And I did it, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

"So?"

"So what?" he asked.

"So are you going to let me save your life and make a little extra money, too?"

"Why should I? What makes you think there's anything left here worth saving?"

"You're impossible," she sighed.

"That's exactly what my ex-wife said before she left me."

"Well, I'm not your wife," Kelly said, throwing away her trash. "And you're forgetting two things. One, I still have your cigarettes in my store. And two, you're stuck on your own until four."

"You're forgetting something, too," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards his backroom. She followed without a fight. "You said I could feel you up anytime I wanted a cigarette." He stole a glance at the front door before backing her up against a storeroom shelf. "Did you mean that?"

"Yes," she said, pulling up her t-shirt and exposing her perfectly perky, tiny titties. 

"Maybe that's not what I want," he said, working the button at the top of her jeans. 

Kelly glanced down, watching his fingers as he pulled her jeans open. With his hands on her hips, he shimmied down her jeans and panties, exposing the puffy tangle of blonde hair between her legs. Once more, he cupped her pussy, pressing a finger inside and wiggling it around. His caress was both rough and gentle at the same time and the way he touched her sent shivers down her spine. He stole another glance towards his front door before his other hand grabbed at her ass. He touched her puckered butthole again.

"You're right," he murmured with fire in eyes. "This is better than smoking." He worked his finger inside her again. She guessed it was nothing more than the tip though it felt like much more. She gasped, embarrassed and thrilled at the same time. "Still think I'm worth saving?"

"Still think I'm kidding about what I'm willing to do to earn your cigarette money?"

After another quick glance at his front door, Wilson quickly released her, leaving Kelly leaning against a shelf with her pants and panties around her thighs and her tits exposed. She was around a corner where no one could see her. She adjusted her clothes before walking back out front. "Later neighbor," she told Wilson as she marched to the front door, her break was over. She noticed the customer staring directly at her chest. Once on the sidewalk, she glanced down and saw why. How could anyone miss seeing her swollen, excited nipples? The would include the old bat Cindy, her manager. She did her best to hide behind racks and calm down.

-

Wilson's craving for a cigarette barely eased followed Kelly's visit. Once more, he sniffed the finger he had pressed deep inside her pussy. Damn she smelled sweet. He remained behind his counter, once more providing horrible customer service as he considered Kelly's offer. Could he last a week without a smoke? Hell, he didn't feel as if he could last until his closers showed up.

By four o'clock, enough was enough. His craving for a cigarette had overcome his pent-up sexual desire. After greeting his closers, he marched out the front door. He would go next door, demand his smokes, and satisfy the annoying craving. Maybe he could cut down. Maybe he could get one of those e-cigarettes and taper off from real ones. Or, maybe he would smoke all three packs tonight. 

"Hi neighbor!" Kelly beamed as soon as he pushed open the door. He didn't smile back at her.

"I give up. Give me my smokes."

"No."

He fumed while struggling to remain calm. He glanced around the store checking customers or her manager. As near as he could tell, they were alone. "Cut the shit, Kelly. You're sexy as hell, but what we're doing is wrong and you know it."

"Saving your life is wrong?" she asked, nearly singing the words. Damn her sunny disposition!

"I'm serious," he growled. "Now give me my cigarettes or I'll just go buy some."

Kelly's near constant grin faded as she stared him down. She glanced past him at an empty parking lot. Sales wouldn't pick up again until after the dinner hours. She ran a hand over her tits. "Are you sure you'd rather have a cigarette?"

"Yes."

"Positive?" she asked, slipping her hand beneath her t-shirt, caressing her breasts and feeling her nipples instantly responding to the attention. Wilson's stared at her hand moving beneath her t-shirt. "I'm really wet."

"And I really want a cigarette," Wilson said without the edge in his voice.

"Did you know I don't play myself?"

"Liar."

"I'm serious," she said, still playing with her aching nipples. Though it was her hand doing the touching, it still felt good.

"Me too," he said, still sounding annoyed. "Eighty percent of all people masturbate. The other twenty percent are liars."

"Not me," she insisted, squirming. Her jeans were so tight, hugging and caressing her sex if she moved just right. She felt a blush rising to her cheeks. God, this was so embarrassing! What if someone walked in? What if Aunt Elizabeth was looking down on her from Heaven right now? Would she understand she was trying to save this man from himself?

"Give me my cigarettes, please?"

"My fiance always wanted to see me, you know, touch myself. He used to beg for it and I told him I couldn't do it because I was raised believing it was wrong."

"You're just playing with your tits."

"I know, but I'm wet, too. I'm all tingly down there. She really wants me to touch her."

"Then do it."

"I can't get naked. What if someone comes in?"

"Then do it through your jeans. You're a chick, you don't have to get naked to touch yourself down there." Wilson glanced over his shoulder before taking a step closer. He put his hand between her legs, pressing against the seam of her jeans. Kelly's eyes flutter with the suddenly thrill. "See?"

"You do it for me," she gasped.

"If I get you off, can I have my cigarettes?" 

Kelly shook her head while riding his hand. Damn that felt good, not as good as earlier, not as good as when he pushed open her pants and stuck his finger against her pussy, but it still felt good. There was a seam of material just below her zipper that rested so close to her clitoris and when he pressed there, she felt shivers of pleasure running through her body. 

"Your halo is held on by horns," he said, still rubbing her.

"Come here," she said, pulling him deeper in the store, farther away from the front door in case a customer walked in. She leaned against the front of the cash register station. There were lots of racks and shelf modules between them and the door. If someone walked in, all they would see were two people standing really close together. Kelly put Wilson's hand between her legs again. She guided his other hand to her chest. "Take me."

"I want a cigarette," he said, groping her.

"I know," she cooed, caressing the side of his face. He had such a handsome face. She could see the young man he once was behind the faint lines age had given him. She saw the mournful look in his eyes and couldn't imagine the battle raging inside of him and when he fingered the button of her jeans, she let him do it. They were far enough away from the front of the store, if someone came in, she would have time to fix her clothes. 

She clung to the register stand as he pulled open her jeans. He grabbed the sides of her pants, tugging them down enough to make room for his large hand. He glanced towards the door before looking back at her. "I want a cigarette," he repeated. 




Wilson's Whore



"No."

"Give me a cigarette or I'm going to make you do things you don't want to do."

"I'll take my chances."

"Give me your hand," he said, reaching for her right arm. He pulled it away from the register stand. He pressed her hand flat against her lower belly, just beneath her belly button. "Either give me a cigarette or you get to do it."

Kelly's big blue eyes went wide. "Do what?" she asked, afraid she already knew the answer.

"Play with yourself," he confirmed. "Either get off for me or give me a cigarette." He urged her hand lower until her fingertips touched the top of her panties.

"Wilson, please," she pleaded. "You can do this."

"I can if you can," he smirked. His grin did not look kind.

"But I've never. . . I mean, I can't. . ."

"You will," he said, using his other hand to snap the elastic band of her panties over her fingertips. "Or, you can give me my smokes."

"If I do this, you have to promise you won't bother me for a cigarette between now and six o'clock." They both got off work at six.

"You have to have an orgasm," he qualified. "You do have those, don't you?"

Kelly had no idea how red her face must look as she nodded. She couldn't remember feeling this embarrassed and ashamed of herself. She couldn't answer his question with words but she managed a nod. Of course she knew what it was like to have orgasms. Tom used to give her orgasms, lots of them. So did Kevin, her only other boyfriend. She liked orgasms. They felt dangerous all by themselves. Having one orgasm always made her want more and sometimes, that happened. Sometimes, like when Tom was going down on her, she would have a bunch of them in a row. 

"I can't," she whimpered as he urged her hand farther inside her panties. She felt where her pubic hair started. 

"Then give me my cigarettes." Wilson stopped punishing her hand as his smirk became more cruel looking. He had trapped her between giving up or giving in. 

"You're mean," Kelly said, easing her hand farther inside her panties until her middle finger touched her clitoris. She was inexperienced, not stupid. She had explored down there. She knew where to touch, how to do it, and what would happen if she kept going. She would make herself climax without a man's help. Providing herself pleasure without the assistance of another felt selfish, as if she was taking from the world without giving back. Except maybe that wasn't true this time? Wilson clearly wanted her to do it and, if she did it, wasn't she keeping him away from his cigarettes for two more hours?

Her body ached for a caress from anyone, including herself. She felt hot between her legs, feverish and slick with need. Her clitoris felt swollen as it ached, begging to be stroked, rubbed, or diddled. She pressed two fingers against the soft nub, trapping it between those fingers as she rubbed in a small, tight circle. She bit her bottom lip. Damn, that felt good. Too good. Maybe not as good as when Tom had pressed against her, when Tom had filled her pussy with his hard cock and would rub against her clit with the rest of his body. That felt really good and she missed it. She missed that sensation of being filled by him much more than she ever missed him. 

A soft gasp escaped her lips as she fought to keep her eyes open. She was the one facing the front door, not Wilson. She needed to pay attention incase a shopper wandered inside in search of the perfect t-shirt for her grandson. She groaned in need, rushing what she was doing, desperately seeking the relief her body craved, relief she hadn't felt in more than two months. Not since she discovered Tom was a two-timing bastard. 

Climaxes always felt like a bursting dam to her. She felt the sensations of pleasurable tension building inside of her, tightening, binding and building in pressure until it could happen. A dam didn't burst in slow motion. A tiny crack would quickly break apart and release all the pressure built up behind it. Sometimes it was a big dam, filled with deep, frigid water. Sometimes it was a shallow dam barely holding back the trickle of a small stream. She felt this dam increasing in height as the water behind it grew deeper, the pressure building until that tiny crack burst forth.

"Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!" she cried out as it happened, hating herself for every vainful cry. She felt as if she suddenly developed Tourette's syndrome and couldn't hold back the swear words. Her entire body rocked as its pent-up need was released until she felt so out of control that she reached for Wilson, holding his shoulder for support as her knees threatened to give out.

"Well steal my clothes and fuck me running," he said with a wide eyed, surprised look on his face. "There's no way you just faked that."

"No shit," she sighed, quickly pulling her wet fingers out of her panties before her body asked for more. She held him for a moment longer before trusting her legs. Still panting, she found a smile and showed it to him. "So now you'll wait until six?"

"Hell yes," he whispered, finding a smile of his own. This time, his smile lit up the rest of his face and he looked truly happy. 

Wilson's smile continued as he stepped back inside his store. He still wanted a smoke but thought he could last another two hours. He glanced at the time and saw it wasn't even two more hours. Yeah, he could make it that long. "If you need me, I'll be at my desk," he told his help and discreetly kept racks between them and his hard-on.

-

At one minute after six o'clock, Wilson pushed open the back door of his story, free at least. Within seconds, the neighboring back door swung open and Kelly stepped out. "You're a bad man," she said the moment she saw him.

"Me? What did I do?"

"You made me do something I've never done before!"

"Where are my cigarettes?" he asked, noticing her hands were empty.

"Oh, did I forget those inside? Darn. What could I have been thinking?" she asked with a big smile.

Wilson expected as much. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty and a five dollar bill. "Got change?"

"For what?"

"Well, three packs of smokes cost me $24. I've got $25 here and thought I could buy a blowjob from you."

"That's not how this works," Kelly frowned. 

"Sure it is," Wilson insisted. "I pay you my cigarette money and you have sex with me, right?"

"I'll do sex things with you if you don't smoke and you give me your cigarette money," she amended.

"Isn't that what I just said?"

Kelly kept frowning as she contrasted and compared the two ways of saying it, looking for how he had it wrong. "You can't give me money you're going to spend on cigarettes and then find new money."

"I don't have any more money," Wilson said, watching her reaction to see if she understood. Her blank stare said she didn't. "I'm trying to tell you, I have twenty-five dollars. I don't get paid until tomorrow and this is all the money I have. If I give it to you, I can't buy cigarettes. But, if I keep it, I can." The light going on in her eyes told him she understood. 

"But if I want that money, I have to earn it," she said, demonstrating her understanding. "How do I know you won't just hit the ATM machine on the way home?"

"What if I give you my wallet?" he offered, pulling from his back pocket. "I'll keep my driver's license and insurance card and you can have the rest."

"In exchange for a blowjob," she specified. He nodded. "And where would we go? I'm not going to blow you in your car."

"Follow me home. I'll put some porn on the TV, get naked and you can get me off. When you're done, you can go home if you want."

Kelly hesitated, pondering if she trusted him enough to follow him home. "How do I know you won't try anything funny?"

"You don't, but I can show you my aquariums, too."

Wilson had talked about his aquariums. Apparently, he owned six of them scatter through-out his house and each filled were filled with a different kind of fish. It was the closest he came to a hobby and he would talk about them at the drop of a hat. "I want to see the one in your bedroom first," she insisted.

"But I don't have one in there."

"Good, then there's no reason to show me your bedroom," she smirked, glad she avoided that compromising room.

"Sweetheart, I live alone. Any room can be my bedroom when it comes to sex."

Kelly swallowed hard. She hadn't considered that. "We need rules. I won't get naked. We do it in your living room. And I'm leaving right afterwards."

"You have to swallow," Wilson added. 

"Why wouldn't I?" Kelly asked, confused. She always swallowed unless her boyfriend made her stop before he got that far. Sometimes, Tom would do that. He would make her stop sucking him and insist on fucking her. She didn't mind because she liked fucking Tom, except she liked feeling him shooting off inside her mouth, too. 

"I think you should grab my cigarettes before we leave."

"Why?"

Wilson caressed her pretty cheek. His touch was remarkably soft and gently while the tone of his words felt like the opposite. "Because this is really wrong. You shouldn't be doing this and I'm going to do everything I can to scare you away. I'm a pervert, remember?"

"I'll take my chances," Kelly said, worried, but too prideful to grab his cigarettes.

-

Rubbing the front of his pants and thinking about how he might humiliate Kelly once they reached his house nearly kept Wilson's mind off his lack of cigarettes. He should have pressed harder for her to get naked, too. Oh well, next time he would. His hard-on strained inside his pants as he pulled into his driveway and he was glad. He wanted her to know he was hard and serious about getting one hell of a blowjob from her.

The stale smell of old cigarettes filled his lungs as soon as he swung open the door. It was a familiar, welcoming aroma; one he remembered from growing up with two smokers. When he was a kid, there were always two smokers in his house. Aside from his mom's chain smoking, each man she dated smoked, too. Some of those men lasted longer than others, like Larry. He had lived with them nearly three years before bailing. 

Once Lori had left him for Mr. Money Bags, Wilson had gone to work fixing up the house they had bought together. In exchange for not fighting the divorce, her new husband had bought out their mortgage, reducing Wilson's living expenses by over eight hundred dollars a month. The reduced expenses made the small salary he earned enough for him. He wasn't rich, far from it, but he had enough. He held open the front door for her.

"Oh wow," Kelly said as soon as she crossed the threshold. Behind two couches pushed into the corner was a long row of aquariums stretched the length of one wall, turned a corner and extended the length of a next one. Colorful fish gracefully swam among beautiful underwater scenery. "They're beautiful! Is that one tank?"

"Actually, it's four tanks," he said, proud to show off his handiwork. 

"Are they built into the wall?" 

"Yes and no," he said, describing how they rested against the studs. He showed her how he could access the back of the tanks from closet doors on the opposite side. Along the way, he revealed there were four different tanks, supporting four different kinds of fish that could never share the same body of water. It created a beautiful illusion of being underwater. 

The other two tanks were small ones used as accent decorations. Wilson emptied ashtrays while giving her a tour of the house, except for his bedroom, never realizing how he kept an ashtray in every room. "Do you think smoking hurts the fish?"

"They're probably going through withdrawal, just like me," he said, openly eyeing Kelly's simple beauty. She wore nothing more exotic than a tight t-shirt and jeans. True, neither left much to the imagination. Her t-shirt appeared painted on and any detail missing from her breasts he could imagine, like the pretty pink color of her nipples. 

"Is it really that hard?" she asked, leading the way back to his living room. She sat in the corner of his couch, which was the best spot for enjoying the wrap-around effect of his fish tanks. He sat in the corner of the neighboring couch where the two couches met. In square corner where the couches met was a square end table with a lamp and an overflowing ashtray. He spied half a butt that looked smokable. 

"Harder than you can imagine," he said, fishing out that half cigarette from among the burnt butts. He held it up. "This looks very good to me right now." 

-

Kelly couldn't imagine the battle raging inside of him but she knew how to distract him. She ran a hand across her chest, over excited nipples that had attracted attention all day. She squirmed with an aching need of her own. "Today really was the first time I ever gave myself an orgasm." She felt a stab of shame as her face heated up. She was blushing again and there was nothing she could do about it. 

"Did it feel good?" he asked, looking past the half smoked cigarette in his hand. She nodded and Wilson saw through her. "It wasn't the first time you've yourself down there, was it?"

"But I've always stopped before it felt too good. Mama used to say a lady didn't do that. That was a man's job."

"Well, it's always more fun having someone else do it," Wilson agreed. "But what about when you don't have someone?" 

She shrugged. "I go without."

"But you still get horny, don't you?"

"Oh hell yes," she said, squirming again, knowing she would do it again if he asked and that made her blush deepen. 

Wilson put the butt aside and rubbed the front of his pants. "I do it every day, sometimes twice a day."

"You do not!" she giggled, sure he was joking.

"I told you, I'm a pervert. I do it all the time." Seeing the doubt on her face, he passed her the remote to his TV. "Turn it on and you can see the last channel I watched."

Wilson wore the same playful and mischievous smirk Kelly had learned to associate with his pranks. She liked his sense of humor and enjoyed how he shock and surprise her. She had tried turning the tables on him the day she flashed him and guessed had it worked since he still talked about it. How many of the things they had done in the last couple days would stick with him like that? She pointed the remote at the big TV, pressed the button, and gasped the moment it came to life.

Wilson started laughing. Through dumb luck, her timing couldn't have been better. His big screen flickered to life in time to show a pretty brunette with her mouth open like a baby bird as a naked, muscular man's larger than life worm hosed her tongue with his semen. "Coed College Cumsluts #12," he said, instantly recognizing the movie.

"Oh my G-!" Kelly substituted a letter instead of speaking vainly again. The longer she had lived away from home, the more foul language she began using, but some words still bothered her. Her head spun with questions. Wilson knew the title. How many times had he watched this movie? Was this his favorite movie? His favorite porn star?

Transfixed by graphic, raw, unbridled sex, Kelly couldn't pull her eyes away. The cute brunette, surely close to her age, smiled and waved at the camera as white semen leaked down her chin. She scooped up a long strand, pushing it between her painted lips before pulling on the big dick in front of her for one last drop. The scene dissolved to show a redhead smirking at the camera. The young woman got undressed, showing off a body no better than Kelly's. She crawled towards the camera as the view panned down to show a big dick. The nameless redhead began sucking on the nameless, faceless man holding the camera. 

"She looks very talented," Kelly joked, finding her voice. 

"Keep watching," he said, rubbing the lump inside his pants. See sweet, innocent Kelly watching porn felt sexy and he knew what happened next in the movie. This movie was a compilation of cumshot scenes from other movies. A bit of editing had removed most of the filler, leaving a shot of the girl getting naked, getting on her knees, and getting a mouthful, all in about five minutes.

"Oh wow," Kelly said, started again by how quickly it all happened. There was another dissolve before a new scene began. "Another blowjob?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at him. "You really like these movies, don't you?"

"I like real blowjobs better," he said, unfastening the front of his pants. Her eyes fell to his lap, watching his hands. Kelly stared without saying a word as Wilson pulled open his pants. He shimmied them off his waist until they were bunched up at his ankles. "I've already given you the last of my money until tomorrow. I guess you have two choices before we go too far."

Kelly's answer had her slipping to the floor in front of him. She took off his shoes and socks before pulling off his pants. She kept staring at the large lump inside his boxer briefs as he slowly caressed it. "Guess you have my answer," she said, reaching for the thick band of elastic around his waist. He pressed his hips upwards while she pulled and his hard cock sprang into view, naked, bare, and unadorned by the first sign of pubic hair. "I've never seen a man who shaved before," she said, studying the sexy smoothness of his hard cock and wrinkly ball sac. "It's like the guys in the porno movies."

"You've watched them before?" Wilson asked, surprised.

"A few times," Kelly blushed. She ran her hand up his thigh where he still had hair and reached around his cock. She caressed the soft, bare flesh around his firmness before circling her hand around his shaft. Wilson's cock was thick, much thicker than Kevin or Tom's, and longer, too. He didn't look freakishly large like the men in porn videos, but Wilson's cock easily the biggest she had known. She shimmied closer.

"I probably won't last long," he said, pushing a stray curl away from her face.

"It's okay. I won't stop until you're done," she promised. After all, he was paying for this and she owed him a full and complete blowjob. 

She had learned to suck cock with Kevin. For month and after month, they did everything except go all the way while she had battled with her newfound sexuality. Eventually, he earned her virginity before heading off to college and breaking up with her. Then Tom had come along and Kelly had waited three months before he tried to do more than kiss her. Once they were engaged, he had wanted to go all the way, asking for it as if she had still been a virgin. She had never corrected him, creating a tiny piece of lingering guilt that clung to her.

Kelly had never imagined Wilson as a sexual partner. He was more than ten years her senior, divorced, and showed little interest in church. Still, he was funny, open, accepting, and handsome. She never understood why it felt safe telling secrets to him, but it did. Wilson teased her innocence without judging it. 

Sucked on his shaved ball sac, pressing her face against his cock and looking up at him. Wilson stared at her with a stunned expression on his face. "That feels so good," he groaned, caressing the side of her face. He squirmed, rubbing against her face as he moaned again. "So hot. So very sexy." 

Kelly licked up on his long shaft before putting his prick back between her lips. Sometimes, Kevin and Tom would moan when she licked or sucked them, but she couldn't remember them saying a word about her looking sexy doing it. She squirmed, feeling that familiar aching desire growing between her legs. She cupped her sex, pressing the seam of her jeans against her clitoris. The temptation to keep doing it was strong. She put both hands on Wilson, leaving herself needful.

"Look up at me," Wilson said. "I want to see your pretty blue eyes. I want to see your face with my hard cock inside your mouth." She did. "Yeah, like that, like a cocksuckng slut. Does that feel good? Do you like being paid to have my cock in your mouth?" Kelly kept him inside her mouth as she tried nodding in the affirmative. Wilson moved his hand behind her head, holding her curly locks as he pressed his hips upwards. "Suck it, slut. Suck my big cock."




Wilson's Whore



She blinked hard at his trashy words, not understanding why her heart raced or her pussy ached so bad. Something about being told she was a slut cut to her core. She sucked him harder and faster, hoping he would keep doing it. She wasn't disappointed

"Getting paid makes you a whore," he said, rhythmically thrusting in and out of her mouth. "You're no better than the girls in that movie. You're a cocksucking slut, just like them."

He was right, of course, and Kelly's excitement soared. She never thought she was better than those girls. Different? Yes. Better? No, Kelly wasn't raised to think of herself as "better than" anyone else. 

"Open your mouth," Wilson insisted, breathing hard. He had a wild look in his eyes as he brushed her hands away from his cock. He kept one hand behind her head, keeping her mouth trapped around the head of his cock. With his other hand, he tugged and pulled on his shaft. "Look at me," he growled. "I want to see the look in your eyes when I shoot my cum inside your mouth." She looked up, waiting for it, wanting it on a level she had never experienced. A moment later, the first splash of his hot, salty seed splashed against the roof of her mouth. "Keep your mouth open," he cried out, groaning as he ejected spurt after spurt inside her mouth, against the back of her throat, the roof of her mouth, and eventually along the length of her tongue. "Now swallow it all and show me it's gone."

Kelly closed her mouth and swallowed twice to make sure it was all gone before opening and sticking out her tongue as if he was checking her tonsils. Wilson smiled, looking very happy. He slapped his heavy prick across her cheeks in both directions before letting go of her hair. Kelly rocked back up on her heels and looked up at the strong man wearing a contented grin as if she was seeing him for the first time. The needful ache between her kept pace with her racing heart. She struggled to regain her composure before asking, "Was that better than a nasty old cigarette?"

-

"It makes me want one more than ever," he said. 

"But you can't," Kelly insisted, afraid she had subjected herself to him for no reason.

"You're right. I don't have any and you have all my money."

"Good," she sighed, relieved. She handed over pants.

"I don't think I need those," he said, content to sit bottomless. Slowly, his cock lost its firmness, falling between his legs and resting on his shaved balls, still thick, but no longer hard. "How's it feel to be a whore?" he asked with a friendly smile as if asking about her grades.

"Honestly? I'm excited as hell."

"Are you going to do anything about it?"

"I don't do that," she reminded him.

"You did this afternoon."

"For you, not for me," she said, pointing out the mental technicality that had allowed her to do it.

"So, you're just going to stay horny?" he asked. She nodded. "Interesting. You know I'm going to do later."

"Really?"

He nodded. "And I'll be thinking about you when do."

"As long as you're not smoking, okay."

"After work tomorrow, I'll give you the rest of my cigarette money for the week."

"Okay," she said, unable to keep her eyes from roaming between her legs. She was fascinated that he remained half naked and it helped keep her mind off getting paid by him.

"Cindy only works a half day on Fridays, right?" he asked. 

"Until I show up at 1."

"Fuck, I forgot you close on Fridays," he muttered. "That's going to make my morning difficult. Knowing I was going to see you this morning was the only thing that kept me off my smokes."

"You'll see me at 1," she reminded.

"Promise me you won't wear a bra again tomorrow."

"Promise me you won't smoke between now and then."

Wilson rubbed his half-hard cock, but he also nodded. "So, as long as I stay off cigarettes and keep giving you money, we can keep doing this?"

"Make it a week and I'll have sex with you."

"And what about after that week? I mean, how long are we going to do this?"

"I don't know," she said. She hadn't thought that far in advance. "For the rest of the year? How long do need to be smoke-free before you're sure it will stick?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, wishing they weren't talking about smoking. The more they talked about it, the more he wanted to do it. "What if you find another boyfriend?"

"What if you find a girlfriend?"

"Good point," he said, realizing there was no reason to cross that bridge before they got to it. Wilson kept fiddling his his cock. Why not? It was his and he liked how her eyes kept drifting in that direction. "Just so you know, since I'm paying for this, I'm going to treat you like a slut every time we do this."

"Okay," Kelly said, wondering why it felt as if her heart soared with that news.

"I'm serious. And right now? It feels as if I'm paying for it twice because I really want a damn cigarette."

"And I really want to masturbate," she said, knowing she was blushing hard from saying those words aloud.

"Maybe I'll call you later," Wilson said, standing. As much as he enjoyed her company, her work was done. There was no reason for her to stay and booting her out of his house felt like the right call. He extended his hand to her, helped her to her feet, and led her to the door. "See you tomorrow, slut."

"Only for you," she smiled.

Once she was gone, Wilson's fantasies of the pretty church-going girl sucking his cock helped redirect his cigarette cravings. He got hard and stayed that way, edging himself close to several orgasms without letting it happen. Staying hard kept his mind off smoking. He went to bed hard and woke up the same way. If Kelly was willing to be his personal slut, he could find the will to live without a cigarette.

-

The saying about old habits dying hard rang true for Wilson as he suffered through his morning. Even knowing he would soon see Kelly couldn't ease the frustrations he felt. He wanted a damn cigarette and when he saw that curly headed bitch, she was going to pay for it. He did his best to lose himself in his work, adjust racks and restocking until Kelly waltz into his store carrying her McDonald's lunch, wearing a happy smile, and displaying hard nipples beneath another painted on t-shirt.

"How's it going, cunt?" he asked as soon as he saw her. Kelly went stiff, freezing in place and stared at him with wide eyes and a slacked jaw that didn't even rachet up and down. "Problem?" he asked.

"Th-that word," she stammered, moving out of her shocked and surprised posture in tiny bits.

He followed to her usual lunch counter, his cash and wrap station. He plucked the bag from her hand, setting it down while leading her towards his backroom door. He pushed her against the same shelf unit and groped her tits. "Do you have any idea how badly I want a cigarette?" he growled.

"Pretty bad to use that word."

"It's just a word," he said, shoving his inside her t-shirt and groping her bare breasts. "Besides, you're a slut whore. What difference does a word make?"

"That's a really bad word," Kelly said, fighting against how good his hand felt groping her chest. Last night had been challenging for her. She couldn't keep her mind off what she had done. She had liked sucking him off. Doing it with her clothes on had felt wanton, dirty, and naughty. Doing it without a promise of anything in return had felt one-sided and cool. She had gone home in need, soaking through her panties. It had taken all of her will to keep her hands from straying between her legs and relieving the demanding ache she had felt. 

"Whore," Wilson repeated, pulling on her straining nipples. "Cunt," he growled.

"Stop it," she whimpered, feeling her lust rising again. "You're making me wet."

"Good."

"You're being mean."

"You're right."

Kelly opened her mouth to say something else before realizing she didn't have any more words. She reached out and grabbed the front of his pants. She gently squeezed his cock and balls, rubbing and caressing the lump she felt growing beneath her tiny hand as they stared each other down. "Do you have my money?"

"No. I don't have my wallet or ATM card. I gave it to a cunt."

"A cunt who owns this," she said, stroking his large cock while marvelling that she ever said that word.

"Fuck," Wilson said, pulling away from her and heading out front. A customer had entered his store. Kelly pulled her shirt back into place and walked out front, too. Wilson stood behind his counter and she could see his hard cock straining against his pants. She smirked, sat at the end of his counter and began eating her lunch as if nothing was happening.

The customer took her time wandering around Wilson's store, oblivious of the sexual drama being played out by the cash register. She collected an armload of purchases and approached the counter around the same time Kelly had finished her lunch. Kelly gave the woman a big smile, noticed how the woman gave a disapproving glance at Kelly's chest, and Kelly only smiled bigger. She waited until the woman was gone before addressing Wilson.

"I get off at 9."

"I know."

"Think you can make it that long?"

"I think I can make it until four," he said, which was when his closing help arrived. 

"I want my money."

"You'll have to give me my ATM card."

"Come see me at four," she said and left, wondering how she was going to work in her excited state.

-

Wilson felt more in control as four o'clock approached. He greeted his closers in a better mood than yesterday and saw the relieved look on their faces, leaving him to wonder how rude he had been the day before. He spent an extra twenty minutes visiting with them before heading next door.

Kelly couldn't keep her eyes off the clock and felt her excitement rising as four o'clock neared. Her nipples grew hard and she felt wet between her legs. How would Wilson treat her? Would he call her a slut or a whore again? She fought off the blush she felt on her cheek whenever she thought of the other word he had used. 

Four o'clock arrived and she kept an eye on the front door, hoping the store would stay empty. She kept watching the door, suffering in her excited silence as time clicked by. She couldn't imagine he was doing this on purpose, but what else explained it? Twenty minutes passed before he walked into her store all smile, as if nothing was happening. "How's it going, whore?"

"Where's my money?" she demanded.

Wilson blinked, taken aback by her sour attitude and confused because her excited nipples told a completely different story. "Give me my wallet and it'll be waiting on my house tonight."

"It hasn't been a week yet," she pointed out, managing to maintain her pissed off expression. Wilson thought it looked cute seeing her angry and frustrated.

"If you're not there by 9:30, don't bother. I'll be smoking by then," he said, holding out his hand for his billfold. Kelly stormed into the backroom, making a show of being angry. "Thanks cunt," he said as she handed it over. "Oh, and by the way, nice tits." He tweaked one of her nipples as if he owned it and left her simmering in her frustration.

-

Wilson visited the grocery store on his way home from work, relieved to discover his annoyed craving for a smoke had eased. Instead of craving one, he wanted one, but otherwise felt okay. He felt more like he missed the habit of lighting up at certain times than he felt the withdraw of needed the nicotine. Still, the missing habit made him feel as if something was missing in his life. He kept checking his pockets for the pack of smokes he didn't own and his lighter. 

Getting home felt better because he could distract himself. He turned on one of the porn channels he bought from the satellite provider and got naked because being naked always felt more fun than not being naked. His cock grew hard and he nursed his hard-on in eager anticipation of when Kelly showed up. Any thought of a cigarette was replaced with a new thought for how he might mistreat her. 

He thought about his motivations for being mean to her. He couldn't deny the willpower he found inside his lecherous thoughts. A strong hard-on and a vivid imagination were enough to overpower his urge to light-up. Still, he resented her playing with him. He resented her using her womanly charms to control him, leaving him with a sense of entitlement. If she was willing to play his whore as way to stop him from smoking, then he was willing to treat her like one. Fuck her wholesome, girl-next-door demeanor, fracturing that only made it more fun. He made sure he stayed ready and hard.

-

Kelly found concentrating at work difficult. Her nipples ached from staying hard for so long. She noticed each time a customer gazed at her chest and grew used to the scowling expressions she earned from other women. Fuck them. It was the men who stared at her that made her feel sinful. She could see the longing in their eyes and knew she was harlot teasing them with something they would never have. She had known girls who purposely flaunted what God had given them as a way to manipulate men and had prayed hard not to think less of those women. 

But isn't that what she was doing? Wasn't she using whatever appeal Wilson found in her as a way to manipulate and control him? And for what? Money? She shook her head, reminding herself why she was doing it. She was saving his life, helping end his addiction to the cancer sticks that were slowly killing him. Maybe it wasn't as worthy of a cause as going on a mission trip, but she tried to embrace it as the same sort of thing. Did saving a life offset the damage she was doing to her soul? She prayed that would be the case and silently asked forgiveness even as she squeezed her thighs together for the little thrill it provided.

She locked the doors, turned off the lights, and climbed into her broken car to do whatever it took to collect her money.

-

Wilson answered his doorbell naked. He didn't have visitors and for the time of the night, it could only be one person. He had showered and razored away any stubble on his bare parts. Behind him, porn played on his TV. Her hundred dollars rested on the corner end table between his couches, fanned out as five twenty dollar bills. 

"You really know how to greet a girl," Kelly smirked, staring at his nakedness and realizing she had taken for granted Wilson's conditioning. He wasn't muscle bound. Instead, he was naturally lean, giving him a trim and fit appearance that rivaled Kevin or Tom, the other men she had ever seen naked in the flesh. "Is this for me?" she asked, caressing his hard-on.

"No, but that is," he said, nodding at her money. 

Confused, Kelly walked on by and pocketed her cash. She had found a mechanic willing to work on payments provided she would give him the first payment upfront. Having the money she needed tucked into her back pocket felt good. She sat on his couch, glanced briefly at the fish and made an even smaller glance at the porn on the TV.

"One of us is over dressed," Wilson pointed out.

"We're not fucking," she said as he sat in the same spot as last night. "You haven't made it a week yet."

Wilson gave her a patient smile. He had had plenty of time to think about what he wanted. "You're right, but you're still doing something and you need to get naked for that." He waited until she started getting undressed before walking around the corner for the supplies he had waiting. 

Kelly pulled off her shoes, her jeans, and her t-shirt, but left her panties on. She wasn't sure why she had to get naked and wasn't sure she trusted Wilson enough to lose her panties. When he came back into the room, he carried a bowl of water, a pair scissors, a towel and a can of shaving cream. He frowned when he saw she was still wearing her panties.

"For a whore, you don't listen very well, do you?" he said, offering his hand. She took it, rising to her feet. Before she could stop him, he picked up the scissors and snipped one half of her panties in two.

"Hey!"

"You don't need these," he said, snipping away the other side and pulling them from her. "Besides, you're a whore. You should be used to a guy seeing naked." He liked the way she blushed. "In fact, this paying customer wants to see you all the way naked." He handed her the scissors.

"What am I supposed to do with these?"

"You'll want to trim before you shave," he said, staring at her very light brown pillow of downy soft pubic hair. It felt like half a crime asking her shave away that silky soft fur, except he knew being shaved would make her feel more self conscious. 

"But I've never . . ." Kelly protested and giving up before she finished the sentence. Of course she had never shaved her pubic hair. Of course he knew that. "Can I just blow you again instead?"

He shook his head. "No, this is what I'm paying for. This and what you're going to do afterwards."

"I'm not going to shave and blow you," she flatly stated.

"Fair enough," he said, nodding for her to get started.

Kelly picked up the towel, put it beneath her butt and began trimming away her curly locks of pubic hair. Bit by bit, she pulled up a curl of fur and snipped it short. All the tugging she was doing on her hair felt like a tease. She knew her pussy was wet and excited. Could Wilson see it, too? Did he know? She stole a glance at him and saw his hard cock throbbing. Whether he knew or not, he was enjoying the show of her shaving. 

Kelly took her time before rubbing herself with the shaving cream. That was dangerous. Her body wanted her fingers to do more than rub lotion across that needful, sensitive part. She behaved herself, picking up the razor and making short strokes. Inch by inch, the razor blade came away covered in hair while leaving behind a growing bald area. The most challenging part was shaving her pussy lips because her clitoris was crying for attention she refused to give it. 

"That's how I want it stay," Wilson told her, passing her a bottle of lotion. 

She caressed the freshly exposed skin, marvelling at how smooth she felt and how sexy it was. It felt as if every nerve ending around her pussy was standing on end. She glanced down at herself and felt girly instead of feeling like a woman and felt ashamed. This wasn't something she could undo. Tomorrow, she would still be shaved, too. It wasn't permanent, but it would last much longer than she wanted to guess. 

"Let me see," he said, kneeling in front of her. He gazed up between her legs in a way only her doctor had seen. "Pull it apart, I want to see how wet we made your whore cunt."

"Please don't use that word," she said as she splayed open her pussy for his gaze. 

"Cunt?" he asked, purposely repeating the offensive word.

"Yes."

Wilson grinned, so happy with himself as he told her an off color joke about a young man asking his Dad for the definition of a pussy. Dad had produced a Playboy centerfold and circled the model's pussy, providing the appropriate street talk name for that body part. Then the young man asked the definition of a cunt. "And the father looked at his boy and said, 'Everything outside that circle.'" 

"Is that what you mean when you call me that word?" Kelly asked, shocked.

"Well, you're a whore, so why not a cunt?"

"Giving you one blowjob doesn't make me a whore," she pouted, unhappy with their arrangement even as her pussy wept with need.

"Getting paid to do it does," he said, rubbing his long, hard cock. His penis looked swollen and angry, as if he was ready to burst from a strong breeze. 

"Fine, I'm a whore," Kelly admitted, hoping it might end his game. "You've had your show. Can I go now?"

"Not yet. We have one more thing we have to do. I'm still hard."

"I already said, I'm not going to fuck or suck you. I think I've done enough for one day."

"Almost," he said. "And you're right, I'm not going to ask to fuck or suck you. Instead, I want to watch you play with yourself."




Wilson's Whore



"No," she said on principle alone. Hadn't he shamed her enough for one day? "How about if I give you a handjob instead?"

"Aw, it's so cute when you try to negotiate just like a slut," he said, caressing her face. "I'll tell you what: convince me you don't want an orgasm and you don't have to do it."

Kelly frowned. She wouldn't lie. She was making too many compromises to add lying to her list. "Please don't make me."

"Come on, it'll be fun. We're going to do it together. Doesn't that sound like fun? Have you ever watched a guy jerk-off in real life?" he asked. She shook her head. "But you're curious, aren't you?" Kelly shrugged, which was less than half a lie. Watching a man do that had never occurred to her until he mentioned it.

"And then I can go?" she asked, wanting to make sure he would ask for more. 

"One orgasm for each of us and then you leave," he promised, moving a chair directly in front of her and sitting down to a ringside seat.

"You're not really going to sit there and watch me, are you?" Kelly asked, horrified and excited at the same time.

"I'm going to watch you and you're going to watch me," Wilson grinned.

"I hate you," she said as she slid her hand up her creamy white thigh. She cupped her sex, wanting to do more, needing to do more, and too embarrassed to let it happen at first. 

"Just focus on me," Wilson softly suggested. "Look at my hard cock. You like seeing me hard, don't you?" Kelly nodded. "Do you like my cock?" Another nod. "Did it feel good inside your mouth last night?" Kelly kept agreeing with him. "Do you want to fuck me?"

"Not tonight," she said, steadfastly standing by their rules.

"No, not tonight," he agreed. "But soon, right? Just a few more days, I will be smoke-free for a week and we're going to fuck in celebration. You want that, don't you?"

"More than you know," she said, easing a finger between her puffy, smooth pussy lips and caressing the outside of her clitoris while trying to hide what she was doing with the rest of her hand.

"Which do you want more? Me to be smoke-free or my hard cock inside of you?"

"Both," she giggled. "One's not happening without the other."

"Because of you, I think I can make it, too."

"Really?" 

Wilson nodded. "Now let me see you get off, okay?"

Kelly stopped trying to hide what she was doing. It felt best when she used two fingers, one on either side of clit. While she wasn't used to doing it until she came, she could still feel what felt best and it involved two fingers. She rubbed her pussy back and forth while rocking her hips up and down. Fuck, that felt good. When she did it harder and faster, her wet pussy made a smacking sound, like two people kissing in an exaggerated way. A soft moan escaped her lips as she felt her orgasm drawing near, like an oncoming freight train speeding through the night. 

Wilson's big cock looked so good. She wanted to taste it again. She liked how he had felt inside her mouth. She like how he came on her tongue, making her open her mouth wide and take all of it before she swallowed. It had made her feel like a slut and she had liked that sensation. She parted her legs wider, feeling more sluttish. "Call me that word," she begged, clinging to the last bit of sanity before her orgasm began.

"Slut," Wilson said between clenched teeth. "You're a fucking cunt-assed, slut whore rubbing your tight little cunty-cunt."

That word, that "c-word," cut right through her, feeling her with a delightful mix of shame and excitement. She cried out in wordless moans, felt her body heaving, and came against her fingers. Across from her, Wilson joined the party. Stroking his cock faster while fondling his bare balls, he came, too, spraying his semen across the empty space between him. In the back of her mind, Kelly thought, What a waste!

They sat across from each other, breathing hard and staring openly at the other person's naked body. They shared a smile before Wilson stood. "Well, good job, whore," he said, picking up the bowl of water and other shaving supplies. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow at work."

"Okay," she said, her eyes following him as he stepped around the corner. Kelly felt dismissed as she heard him running water and cleaning the bowl. Even when it turned off, he didn't return. She picked up her clothes, slipping them back on. She left her useless panties on top of the towel. "Bye!" she called and saw herself to the door, feeling both used and satisfied.

-

She and Wilson pulled up behind the shopping center at the same time on Saturday. Wilson asked about when she was getting her car fixed and otherwise kept the conversation remarkably normal. She told him about her mechanic and they went through their respective backroom doors at the same time.

Saturday's were always busier. Wilson had help inside his store and Kelly never tried eating lunch on his counter. She did visit during her break. He was pleasant, but gave no sign of anything happening between them. Before she left, she asked, "Are you still smoke-free?"

"100%," he beamed and went off to help a customer. After work, Wilson gave her a curt little wave on his way to his car. "Say hi to God for me tomorrow," he called, knowing she always took off Sundays. She gave him a wave back and watched him drive away, unsure if she felt relieved or disappointed that he didn't have more to say to him.

-

Kelly got a ride to work on Monday after school. She was early and stopped to visit Wilson. "Hey neighbor," she called as soon as she walked in the door and saw the store was empty. Wilson sat behind the counter playing games on his phone. She wandered back and froze when she saw what he had sitting in front of him. She recognized the mostly empty carton of cigarettes the moment she saw them. Those were the three packs she had left on a shelf in the backroom of her store. 

"Cindy found them and brought them over," Wilson said in answer to her unasked question. He looked up from his phone with a mournful look in his eyes. "I really want one."

"More than you want me?"

Wilson admired Kelly's simple beauty, her pretty smile, clear blue eyes, and the carefree perfection of her body. Of course, none of that matter without her personality, wit, and intelligence. She was a good woman; how could he continue corrupting her?

"Come with me," he said, inviting her into his backroom. She followed him in the bathroom where he opened each pack of smokes and ran them under water. Destroying those remaining cancer sticks felt as good as seeing Kelly's big smile blossoming on her face. 

"Fuck, I want you," she said, wrapping her arms around him.

Wilson laughed, peeled her arms from him, kept hold of her hand, and led her back to his sales counter. Sitting on the stool behind the counter put him on eye level with her. She remained close, hanging her hands around his neck and smiling at him. Wilson had no doubt she would allow him to caress her body. He fought against the urge to caress her pert tits or running his hand over her perfect ass. Instead, he pulled her hands down, holding them on lap, but not against anything important. Kelly's smile faded as a confused look entered her eyes.

"We were busy Saturday," Wilson began. Kelly nodded, started to say something, but he kept talking. "And it felt good not interrupting what I was doing just so I could sneak out back and smoke. What's funny is that I didn't think about it. I mean, it occurred to me a couple times, but only as a habit and not a craving."

"That's so good!" Kelly said, beaming again.

"Saturday night, I cleaned every ashtray in my house. Emptied them. Washed them. Threw out the trash because it smelled like cigarettes." When he paused, Kelly didn't fill in the space, sensing he had more and he did. "Sunday, I washed all my clothes because I realized, even the clean ones smelled like secondhand smoke. I went to the store and bought six cans of Frebreze." He gave her a brave smile. "I'm done, Kelly."

"What about this morning when Cindy brought over your cigarettes?"

"That was tough. I kept thinking, 'Just one,' and didn't. I wonder if this is how alcoholics feel when they give up drinking? You always hear them saying the craving never goes away."

"So, how did you do it? How did you resist?"

Wilson shrugged. "I don't know. It doesn't make a lot of sense, but it felt good resisting them. It felt good letting them tease me and resisting." His eyes wandered over her trim body. "Frustrating, but I feel better for saying no than giving in."

"You're talking about more than cigarettes," she said.

"Maybe," he agreed, dragging his eyes back to her pretty blues and smiling. "I know you need the money and I won't miss giving it to you, so that part of our deal is still on."

"But I still have to earn it, right?"

"You already have," he said with his biggest smile of the day. 

"No, I mean, you're still going to make me earn it, right?" she qualified.

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

The pretty blonde with the mop of curly hair head nodded.

-

Kelly had a difficult time keeping her hands off her body Monday night. She argued with herself as she fought against the burning, aching need she felt between her legs. If she was going to be Wilson's whore, couldn't she play with herself, too? Except, that wasn't their arrangement. She was being his whore to stop him from smoking, not because she wanted to be a whore, right? She went to bed wet and needy and woke up the same way. Shaving her pussy in the shower didn't help. Raking the razor across herself made her want more. She resisted, determined to stay excited for him. She was his fleshly reward. 

She couldn't stop thinking about Wilson's no-holds-barred approach to sex. When he had groped her, he hadn't held back. Feeling his finger wiggle inside her butt had shocked and surprised her, but Kelly had endured it because that's what she had said she would do. For him, for his health and money, she would endure his every wish.

She drove to work in a repaired car, unable to stop squirming while celebrating its lack of jugging and backfiring. She was excited in a way she couldn't remember. Tonight, she would give herself away to Wilson. She would allow him to do anything he wanted to her. Thinking about how he had made her masturbate, she knew she would do anything at all for him.

-

As Wilson showered, dressed, and left for work on Tuesday, he realized more had left him than just his nicotine craving, he was beginning to break the habit of smoking, too, and that felt damn good. He silently enjoyed getting ready for work without chasing down another smoke or worrying if he had enough smokes to make it through the day. Those things felt good. He smiled as he drove to work, feeling in control of the addiction that threatened to kill him. 

Kelly leaned against the hood of her recently repaired car, smiling as he pulled into his space. "How's it going?" she sang, all smiles.

"Good," Wilson said, meeting her in front of their cars where he swept her up in a big hug. "Thank you! I realized today, I think I'm really going to be okay."

"I'm so happy!" she squealed. "I can't wait to celebrate tonight!"

"Yeah, about that," he said, putting her down and releasing her. "You don't have to do anything. You've done enough. That's what I was trying to tell you yesterday."

"B-but that's not our deal," Kelly said, flashing a rare pout on her pretty face. "I'm really looking forward to tonight."

Wilson stared at the pretty blonde, trying to figure out how to explain. "Really, you don't need to do anything. You've seen how I live. I'm good."

"But a deal is a deal," she insisted, pulling his hand to her chest. "Don't you want me?"

"Of course I want you," he said, slipping his hand away. Damn, she felt good. "But. . . "

"But nothing," she said, with a flash of anger inside her blue eyes. "We're doing it tonight and that's that."

Wilson watched her tight, tiny ass as she stormed off to open her store, leaving him to wonder about the world. He shrugged, determined to do a better job explaining things when she popped over for lunch. 

-

At noon, Kelly stormed into Wilson's store. She glanced around the space and made sure they were alone before blurting out, "Why don't you want to fuck me?"

Surprised and stunned, Wilson started laughing. "Is that what you think?"

"It's what you've been saying for the last couple days. You stopped smoking and hitting on me, what gives?"

"You're a good girl, Kelly. I'm too old for you and too much of a pervert. You shouldn't want this."

"Don't tell me what I want," she said, still glaring at him. 

Wilson shook his head as he eyed her, still smirking.

"Stop it," Kelly demanded. 

"Fine. Seven o'clock at my house, okay?"

-

Wilson was fully dressed when he met her at his door. Kelly felt a combination of dive bombing butterflies and desire circling and fluttering inside her body. His house no longer reeked of stale cigarettes. "It smells nice in here," she said. Wilson shut the door, but didn't move away from it.

"If you stay, I'm going to do more than fuck you, I'm going to fuck with you," he said. It was a confusing sentence that took her a moment to sort out. 

"You did that last time," she smirked and fighting off an eager squirm. Her nipples ached from being hard for so long. 

"Get naked," he said, turning his back and walking away. He sat on the couch while she stood near the door. "You heard me. Get naked or get the fuck out."

"Are you going to get undressed, too?" she asked, fingering open the front of her jeans.

"Eventually," he said, turning on the TV. From the passionate sounds of lovemaking, Kelly didn't need to see the TV to know he was watching porn. She kicked off her shoes and shrugged off her clothes. She hesitated when she reached her panties, glanced at Wilson, and then pushed off her panties, too. 

Wilson waved her over. Kelly did her best to sashay towards him, feeling out of her element. He rubbed the lump inside his pants while motioning that she should spin around. She slowly turned in a circle, feeling naked, embarrassed, and excited. 

"Go find my bedroom," he said, gesturing towards the hallway. "Play with yourself until I come for you."

Kelly nodded, turned, and walked done the short hallway towards the only room she hadn't visited. The door stood slightly ajar. She pushed it open to a large master bedroom lit with candles scattered about the room. In the middle of the space sat an imposing king-sized bed with massive pillars at each corner. The firm mattress was covered in a dark, thick comforter. Several layers of pillows were propped against the headboard. She laid back on the pillows and wondered what she should do. She glanced around the room. A long, low chest of drawers stood as a shadow of dark wood against one wall. There was a dressing chair tucked into a corner. She could guess the extra doorway led to a bathroom and the mirror door probably led to closet. 

Hulking dark nightstands stood sentry on either side of the bed. Tall candles flickered inside long glass jars, making shadows dance around her. She gasped when she noticed the sex toys sitting on both nightstands. How had she missed those earlier? 

Kelly laid in the middle of the bed and listened for Wilson. How long would he be? Was she really supposed to play with herself? She caressed her chest, as much as an experiment as anything else. Her nipples were still hard. She felt nervous. Biting her bottom lip, she decided she should do what he said. She slipped her hand between her legs, cupping her smooth, shaved pussy. She felt her warmth, wetness, and need. As she had done so many times before, she caressed herself close to an orgasm without giving herself one. Every inch of her skin felt awake and alive as she writhed in need and waited for Wilson.

A dark silhouette filled the doorway as Wilson entered his bedroom. He crossed to the dressing chair and sat. "Have you had an orgasm yet?"

"No," Kelly mumbled, feeling ashamed.

"Do it," he said from the dark. 

The meager candlelight wasn't enough to illuminate him beyond a shadow in the dark. Kelly knew who it was. She knew he was watching as her dainty fingers danced across her chest. "I thought we were going to do it."

"We will, after you do it first."

"How many times?"

"Three."

A sharp gasp escaped her mouth. She could do it, she knew she could. She knew her first orgasm would release that deep, primal need inside for more. Wilson knew it, too. Biting her bottom lip, she caressed her clitoris in a small, light circle and felt her passion rising until there was no turning back. She blushed as her orgasm took hold, embarrassed, ashamed, and thrilled at the same time. She released a long sigh and had an orgasm.

"That's one," Wilson said as if counting successful foul shots or cartwheels perfectly performed. 

Kelly kept rubbing her clit, pressing firmer as shivers of pleasure surged through her and she felt her next orgasm building. Panting, she welcomed its arrival, squealed with pleasure and kept going. Tom would do this to her. He would go down on her and give her orgasm after orgasm. Each one created a need for the next one until she felt like a quivering slut trapped in an endless cycle of orgasms. As her third orgasm approached, she realized Wilson knew what he was doing. She had told him about Tom and her orgasms and he had remembered. As soon as she came again, she pulled her hands away from her body, grabbing his thick comforter and squirming with a need for more.

-

"Are you ready to fuck?" he asked from his dark corner.

"Yes," she gasped.

-

Wilson stood and undressed. As he approached the foot of the bed, the candlelight caught up with him, illuminating his body in a soft glow. She saw his hard, aching cock before seeing the rest of him. His bed lacked a footboard. He crawled on top of the bed and kept crawling until he was over her. "Put it inside," he said, seemingly hovering over her.

Kelly reached between their bodies and gripped his long, firm cock. He felt big, bigger than she remembered. She slipped his cockhead against her wet, needful pussy while he lowered himself until he filled her. She looked up at him, waiting for a kiss that never came as he began thrusting. His strokes were long and slow, maddeningly slow. She squirmed beneath him.

"Be still," he said. She nodded and struggled to remain still. He returned to his long, slow strokes, watching her face. "Slut," he announced. Kelly bit her lip. "Cunt," he said. Her lip biting couldn't stop her from gasping. "Whore," he told her without changing the crazy slow, purposeful rate of his thrusts. 

"What are you?" he asked.

"A slut," she said, gasping the word.

"What else?"

"Cunt," she recited, offended and thrilled with the strongest swear word she knew.

"What else?"

"Whore."

"Except whores don't have orgasms," he said, picking up the pace. He pressed hard against her pussy on his down strokes before pulling back and repeating the movement. "Are you going to come for me?"

"Yes," she said, feeling her orgasm building.

"Tell me what you are."

"A slut," she said and felt him driving against her harder and faster. "A cunt," she spat, still hating the word even as she felt him picking up the pace again. "A whore," she groaned, feeling her orgasm nearing. "I'm your fucking cunt, slut, whore!" she cried out. "Please, fuck me! Fuck me harder!"

A tiny smirk appeared on Wilson's mouth as he did it. He fucked her harder than Kelly had ever experienced. Though the room had felt romantic with its candles, the romance fell away as she wrapped her legs around his back, urging him deeper and harder. 

"Fuck me! Fuck me like a cunt whore!"

"Yes," he hissed, as another crack to his demeanor appeared. "Do it. Come for me!"