One Man The Fool

One Man The Fool

Dave was putting the finishing touches to the clock he was working on when the phone rang. He carefully put the clock case down on the tissue paper, got up and walked to the wall phone in the kitchen. “Hello” he said.

“Hi” she said, “it’s me. Change of plans, I can’t see you tomorrow, he’s not going away after all. It just looks as if we are destined not to get it together doesn’t it?”

Seeking inspiration for a witty remark, he looked around the kitchen, his eyes flashing across the drying up on the drainer, the underwear drying on the radiator, the bills to be sorted in the pile of post from this morning. Nothing came to him. “Oh. Oh well I guess that you are right. Looks like we are fated not to get it together. Life’s a bitch then isn’t it?”

“Dave, I’m sorry. He was definitely going away, the coast was clear, I just don’t know what to do now, I don’t know when I can get to see you. I want you. I want to be with you, I want you in me” she sobbed quietly at the other end.

This demonstration of emotion disconcerted him for a moment. He was a little surprised at himself as he though that he had done all the running, and that she was going along with him, playing the teaser game with him. No one was supposed to get involved, no one was supposed to get into the position to get hurt - unless of course she was changing the rules of the game. Composure returning, he responded - “I want you too, I thought that you knew that. You know what I want to do, you know that right now I wish that you were with me - “

“What would you do if we were together now?” she interrupted.

“Oh nothing dramatic. I guess that after a small hug and a gentle kiss on the lips, my hands might fall towards your waist, sliding down to your hem line. I would probably slowly pull your dress up over your waist, and then over your head. My lips would likely gravitate down your neck, I would be drawn to the valley of your chest, my tongue gently licking the soft sides of your breasts as my hands released the pressure on the catch allowing them freedom. I would slowly circle your left breast, moving slowly in towards your hardening nipple, and then as I got towards the nipple I would slip further down, perhaps to my knees as I sucked gently around your navel. Something along those lines I guess” He could hear her breathing down the phone, it had deepened and become more pronounced. Now there was no sign of the sobs from a few moments earlier.

“This doesn’t help does it” she said. “It’s just frustration without release”

“No I guess you’re right. I’d better go then, but remember what I said as you slip your hand down your lap”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. It’s your hand I want not mine”

“Close your eyes and imagine I’m there with you. My lips are kissing your navel, but my hands have slipped down and are lightly exploring your pants line. Gently I am running my fingers along the edge of your pants, starting at the hip and working in. My right hand is going forwards and left, but my left hand is going the other way, it’s going backwards and behind, slowly and so softly, both hands moving gently & slowly to meet soon, but perhaps not touch. My hands are now gently running along underneath, my knuckles are brushing against each other , but my fingers are only touching you along the skin of your inner thighs. I can sense the occasional hair that escapes from beneath your pants and gently I may pull, just to the point of tension, but not to the point of pain.”

He was getting aroused himself, an erection growing as his imagination explored the real possibilities of stolen time together, overlaid with the mind images of her reaction to what he was saying right now.

“I’m there” she softly said, “your hands are now running around my crotch, gently, oh you are so gentle, your breath is so hot against my stomach. I can feel your nose rub against me as your head moves down , Oh God you found my clit, oh, oh. Oh , I don’t want you to stop, I wanted you to carry on, to explore me, to, to ..”

“My hands are still exploring you, my nose is filled with your scent, I can sense your moistness, and yes I want you, yes I am hard aching for you, but not now. It has to be another time. I stand up and gently kiss your face, regretting that the time is not available, that the opportunity has escaped us once more. As I kiss you I rub my hand against your sex, slightly pushing my finger into your slit through the damp fabric of your underwear. Pulling my hand upwards as I pull away. I know what you want, I know what you need, but now is not the time. “

He stopped, wondering if ever these fantasies would bear fruit and become reality. Too often they had made plans to meet, too often they had had to abandon at the last moment, resorting to apologetic phone calls, cancelling plans, feeling let down. The calls had become more and more explicit in nature, and he suspected that when they finally got it together it would probably be just a real anticlimax, leaving both of them embarrassed and probably frustrated too.

“You sod” she said to him as he was lost in his moments reflection, “you keep doing this. It’s just so bloody frustrating. I’m not going to arrange to meet you again. I don’t want imaginary sex, I don’t want a fuck on the phone, I want the real thing, to a conclusion, to the end. And this bloody phone call is now so long that it will be on the itemised bill, so how do I explain It.? Sod it, sod it, bloody sod it, and bloody sod you.”

The phone line went dead. He smiled ruefully to himself as he reflected on what had just happened. The end result of course was that he was now at a loose end tomorrow. Time for a coffee and then a phone call.

The phone rang only a couple of times before it was answered, “Red Hill 729”

“Hi , how’s life?”

“Oh hello Dave, long time no speak. Things are not so bad, well not now that the youngest is at school and I actually get time to do things during the day. The evenings are still pretty busy with tea, brownies, cubs, baths, bed etc. etc. etc. It just never seems to stop from about 3 O’clock when I do the school run until about 9 when I get the last one in bed. That’s six hours later and I’m pretty shattered by then I can tell you. How about you? How are things your way?”

“Yeah, good, look, just a thought, rather than chat on the phone, I happen to be free tomorrow from about 9:30 on. How about I come round, you make me a coffee, and we can chat then?”

“Brilliant. I’ve got to go to the bank first, so, say about tenish? “

“Okay dokey, see you in the morning, byesie bye”

As Dave pulled the Discovery onto her drive he caught a glimpse of her walking past her bedroom window. He turned the engine off, leant over the back and pulled across the flowers he had bought for her and dropped down onto her drive, pressing the remote alarm lock as the car door quietly shut behind him. As he walked upto her door she opened it before he could ring the bell.

“Hiya Jayne, traffic through town is sodding awful now that they’ve changed the lights, thought I was going to be late. Oh, and I thought that you might enjoy some flowers, so here you go, “ he said as he gave her the flowers.

“Nice one”, she responded pecking him lightly on his left cheek, her eyes lighting up as she looked over the flowers and took in their sweet scent, “come on in. Kettles on and should be boiling by now” He followed her in, pulling the front door to behind him, slipped his shoes off and went into the kitchen.

“It’s been months since I’ve been here Jayne, I just don’t know where the time goes. I must say that you really do look well, actually I ought to say a bit more than well, you look bloody marvellous. Divorce suits you, you look really relaxed, and well, softer I guess.”

“Careful what you say, it could be misconstrued, after all you’re a happily married man. Coffee still strong, white, no sugar and water off the boil?”

“Yup that’s the way I like it, and yes I’m married And I was being serious, you really do look incredible. I am even more convinced that Dick was an absolute fool to leave you. And I don’t know why you are still alone here. You are the best looking brain container I know. The world ought to be yours. Why didn’t I have to fight my way past an army of suitors and admirers?” He was walking around the kitchen as he spoke, looking at the clutter of a busy home. It certainly was no show home, but it was clean, it was tidy and things generally seemed to be put away in rightful places , not just tidied up for visitors.

“You know damn well why not. One, I’m not the looker that you seem to think I am. Two, where the hell am I going to meet anyone? Three, why should I go through all the pain that that bastard put me through again. Four, - “

“Stop it” he interrupted, “you’re talking Jayne crap again. We talked about that on the phone when Dick left. It’s not your fault that he couldn’t handle your intellect, and all he did was hold you back when he was here. All he wanted was a maid, cook, laundry woman, and a fuck on demand. He gave nothing in return, did nothing to help in the house or with the kids. And where does anyone meet anyone? Waiting at the checkout queue at Tesco, walking around the market on Saturday? I dunno, you just see people a few times and sometimes you say hello to a familiar face, and sometimes you even start a conversation. People meet people. It’s what they do. Like I said, you are talking Jayne crap again” He picked up his coffee and took a slip. ‘Great coffee’ he thought to himself as he sat down on the stool next to the breakfast bar.

Her back was turned to him as she snipped the flower stems and put them in the crystal vase. He always seemed to say not so much the right thing, but , well ‘the right thing!’ She knew that things weren’t really as bad as all that, and no, she wasn’t ugly, but what she was she was, and that was lonely. Oh yes, there were times when she just needed companionship and conversations that were a little more adult than those she got at home with the kids.

She smiled as she turned, picked up her coffee and went and sat on the stool next to him “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I should just go into Tesco’s, pick the longest queue and engage the man in front of me in conversation until we are served. I could ask him how often he shops there and then rearrange my schedule to be able to queue with him every time he shops. I could do this on a daily basis, buying just a few things, put picking a different likely chap each day. That way, with Sunday opening, I could probably vet seven candidates, give them each four chances, and so every 4 weeks I could try my luck with a new crew. Over the year that’s about 91 potentially unsatisfying male Tesco shoppers I could have engaged in stimulating conversation or bored silly - Of course that is if I haven’t been banned from Tesco’s for alleged soliciting.”

“You are such a silly sod at times. What the hell do I have to say to you? If you were to actually enact out the scenario that you described, you’d probably end up with about a million toilet rolls or what ever else you would buy that you didn’t actually need, and you would have greatly enriched the lives of 91 very lucky chaps. In fact, I’d take up shopping at Tesco myself.”

“Would you? Would you really, why? Just to watch the fun, see the silly cow making a fool of herself?”

He put his coffee cop down and turned towards her. Gently he put his hands on her cheeks and looked her straight in the eyes. “No. No, it wouldn’t be to see you make a fool of yourself .” He stroked her face with his hand, running his fingers over her lips and slowly down to stroke her neck.

“Whoa mister.” Jayne pulled away and stood up. “ For God’s sake what about Wonderful Wendy? You are married to her.”

“I’m sorry, OK, I’m sorry.” He looked at her and sighed. “I know, I know what it looks like, but you are attractive, well bloody gorgeous actually , and for a moment I just forgot myself. There are times, when I’m with you that I’m clumsy with what I say and do, and it’s, it’s, yes, probably exactly what you think. Wendy? Oh well Wendy is Wendy, and yes I should be thinking of Wendy and not Jayne, but I’m here with you Jayne not her. I know, when we spoke on the phone you kept saying that she sounded too good to be true, perhaps you were right - but then you had been having a shitty time, and you’ve had more than your share of troubles, any problems I might have been having were really just so small in comparison that I really couldn’t mention them. I did try not to be an insensitive ass and bang on about my problems. Yes, you are right, I should not lose sight of the fact that I am married to Wendy. I didn’t mean to hit on you, I too just need someone to talk with occasionally.”

“God Dave, I always thought that you were being honest with me. I never guessed otherwise. I’m sorry. But what troubles? You’ve never even hinted. Wonderful Wendy I call her. Everything you said made her seem so nice and frankly bloody wonderful. She seemed really good, everything I’ve ever heard you say tells me that, and I know what you’re like so I know that you both share all the chores and stuff around the house. And you’ve never struck me as clumsy with words or deeds, so what is it? I always thought that you could talk to me, In fact from the day we first met we’ve always been able to talk, sometimes we never stopped - sorting out the troubles of the world. You always made my problems seem so small and helped me put life back into perspective, You dragged me out of my depression the way no tablets from the doctor ever could.”

He took the last of his coffee, got up and went over to the sink and rinsed the cup through, looked for the tea towel but couldn’t find it. He put the cup upside down on the draining board, turned back to face Jayne and shrugged. “What can I say? I was being honest, but perhaps I just didn’t tell you the whole truth. You are completely right of course. Sorry, I must have just been being a little stupid today. Look it’s just that you are so bloody gorgeous and attractive that you overwhelmed my senses and, forgive me, and make me another of those magnificent cups of coffee before you go and take over the world.”

She got up and flicked the kettle on. “Yeah right of course I am bloody lovely me. You may say that with that little twinkle in your eye, but now we both know that something’s up. You can’t just shrug it off, or try a little flirt to get away from it” She was only a few inches away from him as he leaned against the worktop, his elbows supporting his weight. With him slouched down like this they were the same height, and she found she was looking directly into his eyes. She stared into his eyes for a moment trying to force him to open out to her. She moved towards him and put her arm around to behind him to get the cup off the draining board. As she lightly brushed against him she sensed him shudder, and rather than reach out for the cup, she moved her hand up and touched his cheek. His eyes closed and he ran his tongue across the edge of his teeth. She put her other hand on his other cheek, cupping his face in her hands. He took a deep breath and tried to move back and away, but couldn’t. “What is it? Speak to me” she said softly.

“What is there to say that won’t sound pitiful. Forget it. Seriously it’s not a problem. Just for a moment there I simply lost my self control and allowed my self to react to the presence of a beautiful and attractive woman. I am so sorry if I caused you embarrassment - it was a momentary weakness on my behalf, a lowering of my guard. As you say I am happily married so what could be wrong. Lets have that coffee.” He turned as if to move away, but she increased her hold. Still she held her eyes on his, staring into his blue green eyes as if trying to read his inner thoughts for herself.

Failing to pull away from her, he inwardly sighed and then closed his eyes. As his eyes closed she leant forward and kissed him. She was hesitant at first, and then as she sensed his lips respond, she kissed more forcefully. She moved her right hand down from his cheek, took his hand and placed it firmly on her right breast. There could be no doubt. There could be no room for mistake. She had told him plainly in deeds exactly what she wanted and what she expected.

He kissed her back, moral and righteous self control were not wanted here. He felt her breast through her T-shirt , his hand gently massaged her full breast, taking the weight as his finger and thumb sought out her hardening nipple. His other hand came up behind her and moved slowly across her back, moving down to the top of her jeans. His hand slipped his hand into her rear jeans pocket pulling her to him as he pressed himself against her.

She took his wrist and pulled his hand from her pocket, stepped back from him and taking his hand, led him away from the sink towards the kitchen door. “I think we ought to go somewhere more comfortable”

“No Jayne. Lets just go and sit down in the lounge and talk.” She turned around and moved close to him again, still holding his hand. He back stepped and found himself backed up against the wall. She just walked straight at him, pressing herself against him.

“So I’m not woman enough for you is that it? You call me attractive, but I don’t turn you on? Contradiction in terms isn’t it? OK, let’s go and sit down in the lounge and talk. But I think that you are a liar, and I think that you are a liar because of this,” she said as she gripped his erection through his trousers.

“Of course I’m attracted to you and turned on by you, you silly sod, I’ve already told you that. I already let my guard slip earlier and made a stupid pass at you almost without realising what I was doing, so of course you’re woman enough for me, your hand has already felt that for your self. That’s not the problem though is it? What next, where do we go from here? That’s the real issue. “I didn’t just make a pass because you are a woman and I’m a bloke and therefore I want it. Whilst that’s subconsciously true of most men, most men suppress those urges to be civilised and to demonstrate loyalty to their partner. My guard fell down because right now I’m feeling a little vulnerable and quite frankly unwanted. I’m married to a woman who just does not seem to care about me anymore - if she ever did. She shows me no warmth in private, hardly speaks to me, never asks how I’ve been doing at work, how I am, what I’m doing, she just never asks.

“How lonely can you be being by yourself? It’s worse being with someone and being alone I can tell you.”

She pulled back , completely shocked. She’d always liked him, always fancied him a little, and just thought that he was being typically male, having a bit of a down day, and had thought ‘Why not? I’m human, I need it too.’ God the times she had poured her heart out to him, cried on his shoulder, sobbed down the phone - and every time he had been there for her. Every time. And all along he was having problems of his own. She just had not realised the pain of his own that he had been hiding.

She leant forward and kissed him, gently at first, caressing his neck and then moving her hands across his chest. “You don’t ever have to feel alone whilst I’m around” She slipped her hand under his shirt and rubbed her palm over his nipples. His breath was short but deep, almost gasping. His eyes had closed as he leaned back against the wall. She felt him relax, almost as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

“I won’t care anymore. I’ve done everything I can for Wendy, and all she does now is throw it back in my face. I think that someone more caring is in front of me right now, someone that deserves my full attention” With those words he pushed her back and holding both of her hands against the wall he kissed her, hard but not brutal and with a release of passion that surprised himself. As he kissed her he pushed his hand against the crotch of her jeans, gently rocking his palm in an up and down movement. With one movement he took the bottom of her T-shirt and pulled it up over her head, her breasts full and free, he stooped and gently sucked at each nipple in turn. He stopped, and pulled back and just looked her straight in the eye, not touching her apart from a gentle holding of a couple of fingers on her right hand.

“I think you deserve more than a quickie in the hall. I think that I would like you to take us up to your bedroom where we can make love, not just have sex.” He bent down and carefully picked up her T-shirt, passing it back to her as she turned to lead the way up stairs.

Not A Moments Peace

It is now nearly two years since Catherine had passed away, her cross lived at my neck, her memories never far from me, her soul still intertwined with mine. I hide from view my internal anguish, no one sees me shudder when the word Cancer is uttered, and everyone is always pleasant to me. I don't think people show me pity, they just treat me as a single chap who loved and lost. But then I am luckier than they know. Catherine never actually left me, she is with me at all times and her love and laughter fills my life. True her body is gone to corruption and lies rotten in an oak casket in her plot, a beautiful white marble headstone polished weekly by me showing her current home, but that is irrelevant, her soul lives on and it is her soul that is her very essence.

Caroline has been an absolute revelation for me. She moved into the street about ten months ago, and so sadly did not know Catherine. I had helped her do a few things when she first moved in, prompted I remember when a white van pulled up on her drive as I washed my car. I like the independence that Caroline has, it is perfectly judged. She is not one of those silly women who just will not accept help from a man, nor is she so dumb that she cannot do anything on her own. And yes her hair is blond and lives mostly in a pony tail. The van pulled up and reversed on to her drive, and for a while, as I finished the leathering and started the soft cloth polish, she ferried 'stuff' from the van into her house. Then she came across.

'Hi' she said, 'I'm Caroline Deveraux, we haven't met.' Her voice was rich and had a melody to it even in such few words.

'Well hello Caroline Deveraux, I am Henry Baddersley, and I am glad now that I can mentally think Caroline rather than 'newbie' when ever I see you.'

'Well yes Henry, but then you could have always come and said hello, there is no harm in that now is there?' She laughed as she spoke as if to ensure that her words carried no venom or spite. Her finger had raised and pointed at me coinciding with the word 'hello' and all in all the presentation and introduction had been quite a dart through the introspection that I lived in.

'Caroline it is, perhaps, to my shame that I did not, but a widower knocking at the door of the new beautiful neighbour could convey the wrong impression. I knew that we would meet and be introduced, I just did not know when, and that meeting is when the first impressions would be exchanged.'

'Well Henry here we are, and truly it is second impressions for we have both seen each other before and have formed first impressions. How, I wonder, do your second impressions compare with your first?'

She was of course correct, it was a piece of logic that Catherine would have loved to tease me over, and I started to answer but she shook her head and waved her finger.

'No Henry I wasn't being literal, we can talk about that on another day. Today I have come across to ask for some help. I have just been to Ikea and bought some furniture, assembling it will be fun and take up many a happy hour, but meanwhile, some of the cartons are just too heavy for me to lift alone. Can I ask that you spare a few minutes of your time and help me into my house with them? I did see that you were washing your car, and had you gone from washing to waxing, then I would not have asked, but as you seem to have gone straight to a polishing stage I thought that your car may be interruptible and hence it may allow you to help me.' As she spoke her ponytail bobbed and seemed to weave a hypnotic spell, the tail appearing first at one side of her head and then perhaps the other, perhaps reappearing at the same side. Her voice sang as she spoke the breaths she took to power her request caused her chest to rise and fall and me to notice that it did so.

I forced my eyes away and looked her in the ace as I spoke. 'You should have asked me straight away and not waited to see what I would do next. I just fill my time away from work just pottering, I have so little to do, the house needs so little looking after, and I think that I must have the best polished car in Gloucestershire, and so yes. Yes of course I will be delighted to help you carry your cartons in, and, no , not because I am bored, but because I am delighted help, and yes, so that you do not have to ask, I will happily help you assemble your furniture, and no, Caroline Deveraux, I will not be offended if you don't ask me to help assemble.' It was strange. As I look back now and remember that first meeting I realise how much I spoke, probably longer sentences than to anyone else. I was very monosyllabic in those days, saving all my conversation for Catherine. There was no one else I needed to speak with apart from people at work, and that needed to be concise and perfunctory. My friends were all still coupled and I was always the odd one, and it was embarrassing to see my friends try by inviting an unattached female to be company for me at the dinner parties and other occasions that we got together. I always felt sorry for the woman. I could imagine the words that they had used.

'Oh do come, Henry will be there, he is a nice chap, widowed, and just too lonely for his own good. Come along and shake him out of it, you have so much to offer it's bound to work between you.' And of course what all these poor women took from this is that they were themselves sad and lonely, and that their friends were trying to fix them up with a sad and lonely partner. They failed to see that the only effect would be to put two sad and lonely people together and double the unhappiness. But I was not sad or lonely, I had Catherine, only they could not know that. I was comfortable in my loss.

I followed Caroline back to the van and looked inside. My goodness I thought, that'll take some shifting. The van was half full with brown cardboard cartons all of approximately the same size, all with their 'this way up' arrows carefully aimed at the van roof.

'Gosh, she's been busy' said Catherine quietly to me.

'Yes indeed' I said back, forgetting myself.

'Sorry Henry, I missed that' Caroline said, 'what did you say, it's not too much is it?' Concern showing on her face, perhaps that she had misjudged me and that having seen the size of the problem I would back away. 'I mean I can do it my self, I can open each carton and take all the pieces in to the house individually, it's no problem. It is just that if I can get the van back before six I will save a days rental cost, and I don't think I can empty it by myself in time.' She stopped and looked at the pile and then I think thought about what she had said. 'Oh look I am sorry, that came out all wrong, I don't want to pressure, I really did wonder if you could just help me. It would save me a bit of time, there is no worry, honestly.'

'Oh course Henry will help you,' said Catherine.

'Caroline, of course I will help you,' I said, needing no bidding from Catherine, 'all I meant was, yes indeed you have been shopping. Come on, let's get the boxes inside and then you can take the van back. I can follow you if you like and bring you back, save you worrying with buses and things.'

 

 

Interlude

Here's a little something I am working on, a snippet. As always, please enjoy it, or hate it, comment or not, but it is my work, please don't copy it, it is copyright me.

Interlude

Catherine was dressed only in a loose fitting satin slip and had just finished her morning coffee when the door knocked quietly. She got up, dropping her coffee cup off in the kitchen, she went to the door, looked through the spy hole and saw Henry standing on her step. As soon as she undid the latch Henry pushed at the door, quickly shutting it behind him as he stepped inside. His lips crushed hers as he embraced her a little roughly, his hands holding her head as he stooped to kiss her. His tongue probed, sliding across her teeth, searching as his lips bruised hers. His roughness evaporated quickly and his embrace became sensual as his lips gently caressed her, his tongue probing and sliding between in a sexually suggestive way, as if he were kissing her in a most personal place and seeking her pleasure. She felt herself stepping back and leaning against the wall. Her hands around his shoulders as she kissed back, her fingers stroking his neck and caressing his ears. She moved her head, breaking the contact, leaning to one side and kissing his ear she slowly forced her tongue into his ear, her breathing becoming more intense as the moment aroused her to a point of wanton longing. She was only too aware of his arousal as he pushed against her. She grasped him through his clothes, feeling him, hearing him groan as she massaged him and penetrated his ear with her tongue.

Henry slipped his hand around her back, his fingers gently moving in the soft forgiving valley of her rear, fingers gliding in the slickness of her slight perspiration. His left hand slid down gently, playing momentarily, before moving past to the moist warmth of her womanhood. His hand came back to slide once more amongst the perspiration dampened valley walls, as her hand gripped him more firmly. Catherine grasped the hardness through his clothes, his trouser zip pressing, almost cuttingly into him as she pulled back to release him from within the confines of his clothes. Henry pulled her slip up and stooping slightly, he bit at her side, his teeth leaving a small nip mark as they pinched at her skin. His right hand cupped her, pushing gently at her as his mouth followed the direction of his hand.

Catherine shuddered as a small explosion rippled through her body, moving up to tingle at her bosoms before evaporating somewhere in her shoulders and neck. She pulled back laughing as she saw his flushed face glistening with her moisture.

“Hi Henry”

“Hi Cath. I managed to get away and all I could do was think of you and taking your clothes off, and kissing you, and lapping you and making love to you, and I was so aroused I just hoped you were here and free”

“Well apart from the girls having coffee in the kitchen, yes” He paled and jumped back, a look of absolute horror on his face. “Just joking, Henry, just joking. Look, I’m not dressed yet. There’s just you, me and your hormones in this house.”

Catherine slowly unbuckled his belt as she spoke, and then as the heavy belt gapped at his waist, she undid the button of his trousers followed by the zip. As she let go, the trousers fell to the floor, the belt making a sharp noise as it hit the tiles. Catherine’s hands moved around his silk boxers, touching everywhere but his desire, making sure that no matter how much he twisted and turned, he did not manage to make contact with her hands.

“Tease,” he gasped as eventually he felt the fresh air of her hallway, seeking desperately to fall into her hands and to be touched, pulled, help, gripped, stretched, wanting desperately to feel the hot warmth of her body as it entered her, penetrated her to the depths of her inner sanctums.

Catherine quickly stepped back and away, heading away from the front door to the stairway. Henry stumbled as he tried to follow her, his trousers in a tangle at his ankles. Henry stopped and pulled his trousers up, catching them at the waist, but not zipping the fly. He slipped his shoes off, and left them by the hallstand, following Catherine up the stairs to her bedroom. As he walked through the bedroom door, her hands slipped around his waist and she kissed him hard between the shoulder blades, her hands once again undoing his trouser waistband. This time her hands slid beneath the elastic waist of his silk boxers, gently squeezing him as she rubbed herself against his backside.

“You know I had a really hot dream about you this morning” Henry said.

“Oh yes?” Catherine murmured, remembering her own dreams this morning as Alice was waking up, “ You had better tell me all about it then”

“I don’t know how the dream started, I was really quite sleepy, but where I remember it from is where I had got the shaving stuff out”

Catherine slowly pulled his boxers down, using her feet to guide them the last few inches. Her mouth was now level with the top of the crease that started at the base of his spine, her tongue began to invade, knowing that this was almost the one thing that drove him over the edge, the one thing that meant he would do anything she asked – almost. Henry was really struggling. He was standing with his feet slightly apart with Catherine kissing him. It was just about the most incredibly sensual hot, loving thing anyone had ever done. No one else had ever kissed him there. The feeling was completely indescribable, As Cathy licked, or sucked or probed, the feeling was exactly the same as the moment of culmination, but lasted all the time she was doing it – there was no crescendo, no peaking – it just lasted as an intense moment throughout the time. No one else had ever done this to him. No one else had ever had this effect on him. He had once been given opiate based drugs whilst in hospital and until Cathy had done this to him, had never felt anything approaching the pleasure of those drugs. Until now. And now Cathy surpassed anything that had happened to him before.

His legs were wobbling, his knees felt weak, his throat went dry, the pleasure was almost too much to bear, and then she stopped. “You were saying?” she said, her hands slipping around to once more grasp him, “shaving stuff?”

Henry felt the intensity subside a little, but still a level of pleasure that he had rarely felt with anyone before Cathy, but at a level that Cathy almost always started him at – before his pleasure level went through the roof. “You were lying on the bed, on a towel with your legs apart. I had just trimmed you and had placed a hot wet towel on you, ready for the next phase.”

Catherine felt a tremor in her groin; this had been a fantasy of hers – one that she had not shared with Henry. It was a little scary that he had picked up on this and melded it into his dreams.

“I then went to the bathroom and bought back the shaving gel and a razor and a shaving brush. First of all I gently spread the gel, giving you a pale minty sheen. I then took the brush and gently lathered into every crevice to ensure that nowhere could be missed. And then I started to shave you. Very gently, and very slowly, washing the razor in hot water I removed every hair. You were as naked as the lips on your mouth. I then rinsed you with the hot flannel and wiped you clean with the warm towel. As I gently wiped you, it hit, and you squeezed me so tight, it was a really powerful dream.”

Catherine was stunned; she had no idea what to say. It was her fantasy in every detail. What should she do next? Not all fantasies should become reality – some things were better left dreamt. But did this fall into that category? She sometimes wondered if men who liked shaved women secretly lusted after children, but she knew that that was just not the case with Henry. But to be almost word perfect on her fantasy, a fantasy she had not shared with anyone, or written down anywhere. No way could he have known it. It must have been a coincidence she decided, as she once more moved her lips to him, to lap and lick and kiss in a way that drove him absolutely wild. Henry let out an almighty groan as he convulsed in a sensation of pure pleasure. He turned round to face her kneeling body.

Catherine had another flash back to her morning dream, startled for a moment, wondering if that early dream had been a moment of déjà vu. As in her dream, she held Henry, gently pulling back to reveal a glistening as the daylight reflected off the shiny moisture laden redness. Her tongue slipped from between her teeth, reaching to gently touch the tip, to lap at the small dewdrop of fluid waiting for her. Gently she rocked back and forth, her mind lost in the erotic dream, her hand stole down to press herself as the bed had done this morning, her fingers stimulating her along with the memories of the dream that aroused her so much that morning.

Catherine herself felt his tightening, felt the tremors in his shaft, and knew that his time was near. Her breath became more ragged and harder, her gulps of air bigger and deeper, her moans more primitive as she lapped at him and pleasured herself. She raised her free hand from where it had balanced her on the floor, Henry moaned, huge long drawn sighs as pleasure circulated his every essence.

Catherine let out a huge cry as her muscles all seemed to let go at once and a small moment of her reality crossed and joined with Henry as they unknowingly shared each others most innermost desire.

Somehow, neither was really aware of how, they found their way to the bed and fell into a cuddling sleep, holding each other the way that only true lovers seem to. She lay there, dreaming of lovemaking, of a life with this man that was more than stolen moments, which offered pleasure on tap, not by schedule. He lay, sated, his body drained, his flaccid penis untroubled by the dreams of lovemaking with Cathy that filled his head every time he slept.

When Catherine awoke, she felt his warmth surrounding her; his aroma filled her nostrils. She snuggled deeper into his arms, her rear pressing against him, lying soft in the crevice of her backside, and she thought of this man lying with her. She felt him stir, a small moan escaped his lips, felt him stiffen slightly in the flesh of her bottom. Catherine smiled wondering what dreams he was having, wondered if he was with her or another woman, another conquest – some exotic beauty from a foreign country? Deciding that was a thought she would stop right there and then. She slipped from his arms and rolled gently from the bed, and softly made her way to the en-suite.

Shaking her head, trying to control the urges that she felt, she finished, washed her hands and went back to the bed. Henry was lying sprawled on his stomach, legs apart, his head to one side as he slumbered in a deep post coital sleep. Catherine crept onto the bed, lying next to him, she took in his smell and soon slipped into a deep rhythmic sleep, dreams that were fragments of the mornings events took over as she slipped into oblivion, safe in the knowledge that he was at her side.

As she slept, she dreamt once more that he had shaved her, and that now he was gently attending her with his lips, his slight moustache stubble rasping s it slid across her delicate skin, close but never quite on the target. She raged in frustration but could not seem to make him do as she wished, she thrashed in the bed as she held him by the ears and tried to direct his head, but he was too strong, she struggled as his mouth slipped across her, now bare and shiny, frustrated as he lapped and slid his tongue, the pressure building as he refused to direct himself to the one thing that needed his attention. Her frustration suddenly evaporated as she awoke confused from her dream, erupting, reality and dreams seemingly one. The only difference between dreams and reality was the down that she still sported.

“Stop, Lords sake stop.” She called out, “Let me get my breath”.

“Oh, you are awake then?” He twinkled at her, “thought that you would never wake up.”

Catherine just sat and took some deep breaths and tried to collect herself. She moved slightly away from Henry, forcing him to disengage, and then snuggled back, her breast level with his, her face level with his, her eyes dark and fiery, looking directly into his, greyish blue and sparkling. “Oh ‘Mr Out For The Count’, you are a fine one to talk, dead to the world after a small session all you did was fall asleep. Where was my morning of rampant passion?”

Henry smiled his quiet enigmatic smile, and said simply “Oh. You thought I was asleep. I see. That explains that then”

Catherine punched him on the shoulder and snuggled deeper into his arms. ‘Thought he was asleep indeed’ she mused, feeling his arousal hard between her legs, she moved position slightly, pushed herself ever so slightly back, and with a small push, she had him. She could not help but think of her fantasy – being shaved by a man, and how his dream had matched it. It was something she was sure should not translate into real life – not all fantasies could be allowed to come true - after all, if they did, there would be no mystery to life.

They were disturbed by the ringing of the phone, “I’d better answer it,” Catherine said, “you never know who it might be”. Who it might be turned out to be the school. ‘Alice was sick, could someone go and pick her up?’ Catherine sighed – it was almost as if she were Alice’s mother rather than an aunt, and just recently it felt like she was getting all the downsides of parenting, and not the ups.

The Aftermath

The affair has started, but how might this reflect on his life at home with his wife, again an exploratory writing. Again it is raw and unrefined, and I am not sure I like where this is going. Already I find myself wanting to write some sympathetic words for Anne.

Afters

Lance returned home at around nine PM, and Anne, having seen his car drive up the avenue, greeted him in the hallway. Lance’s dinner lay spoiled and dried upon a plate in the kitchen; the phone had remained cold and silent in the hall. “Have you reported the phone fault?” She asked as he hung his coat on the stand. “No. Why what’s wrong with it?” Lance responded, walking past her into the front room to pour himself a malt – something that he rarely did unless nervous. Anne followed, determined not to let yet another unexplained matter go unremarked. “Well I assume it must be faulty as you did not phone to say that you would be late. Elizabeth and I waited as long as we could, but by seven she really could wait no longer, and was really sleepy as she ate. I don’t think that she ate her tea properly at all. Where were you?” “What the hell is with the third degree? I had a business meeting. You don’t stop a business meeting to phone home and say you’ll be home late. Not if you want to win the business you don’t. So just back off. This house costs a fortune to run, you and the child seem to eat all the time, and clothes? Well I’ve never known people get through so many clothes as you two” “’The Child’ is called Elizabeth and she is growing. She is two years old. Her clothes no longer fit after a few short weeks. I do the best I can, source clothes as hand me downs from friends with older children, passing Elizabeth’s on to those friends with younger children. I even get the occasional items from the Rummage at the church. As to my clothes? When did you last buy me any? You have never bought me clothes and never given me money for clothes, yet still you expect me to look wonderful on the odd few occasions when you bring clients home – wonderful that is as long as Elizabeth is nowhere to be seen.” “The child is a drain. I never asked for her, I never planned for her. Its your fault, you should have taken precautions. I never wanted children. A wife to do her duty and to be there as required is all I ask for.” “My fault. That’s bloody rich. You beat me so badly that the precautions I took, the pill, was ineffective, you raped me on a hill leaving me naked and semi-conscious for hours in the wet whilst you took your gratification. It’s a miracle all I caught was for Elizabeth and not pneumonia.” The anger caught with him again and he slapped hard once across her face before going sitting on the sofa and sipping his malt whiskey. Anne whirled in the direction of the slap, and fell into a sitting position. She just sat there, her face smarting, a slight drip of blood from her nose falling to mark her fawn skirt with yet another signature from her troubled marriage. Finishing his malt, he turned to her and said, “Go clean yourself up, you are a mess. Was that any way to greet your husband? No of course not. And don’t bother putting anything on after you’ve showered, I’m in the mood for it. I’ll just have a couple of drinks whilst you clean yourself up, and I’ll be with you.” “You can’t be serious Lance, you just can’t come home hours late with no explanation, slap me around and then expect me to nice as pie and just make love with you?” “Who said anything about making love? Just wash your self off and lie on the bed waiting. I’ll be up hard and ready. I advise you to get yourself prepared, you know what I mean – wet. Its sex, not love I’m in the mood for.” “Well that’s too bad. The answers no. I am not getting into bed with you tonight with the attitude you’ve got. My God, even the Victorians treated their wives better than you treat me.” “You stupid, stupid woman. It isn’t an invitation, it isn’t an option. Love Honour and Obey – well this is the obey bit. Get the fuck up the stairs” He almost spat the last words out, turning away from her, dismissing her from his mind as he reached out and poured another malt. His mind slipped back as he recalled the time he had spent earlier with Val in the empty office. How she had gasped as he suckled at her breasts, and oh what magnificent breasts they were, her nipples hard, they felt like bullets pressing into his chest as he lay atop her. He sat in his chair and smiled as he remembered her gasp as she first encountered his engorged manhood, how she had cried out as if for mercy as he entered her, how she squealed and bucked as he released into her to add to her already flowing wetness. His hand slipped into his pocket and felt Val’s underwear; underwear he had kept after wiping her scent onto them, a hormonal reminder of carnal pleasures and joys so great, that the very presence of the underwear was enough to arouse him almost beyond control. He stood ready to go upstairs before realising that Anne was still there. Unmoved, sat on the floor, just looking at him, looking at his arousal, so apparent in his trousers, such an unwelcome and cruel object. “No Lance. I told you. I won’t just ‘get the fuck upstairs’; I will no longer kow-tow to your bullying. If you want to lie with me, then you treat me with respect, with love and kindness, you woo me and you seduce me with kind words, with flowers and with endearments. You force yourself on me, and I will retaliate and if you mark me or force me once more, then I shall go to the police, and I will raise charges and I will see you in court. You love me, and I will continue to love you back or you get out. The choice is yours.” Lance just looked at her as if he thought she were mad. “You have two choices woman. You get up them stairs and get your self cleaned up. You get onto the bed, and you get ready for me to come up to you. You carry on living in this house with the child and looking out for my needs, and you do as you are required. The alternate choice you do not want to even hear.” “No Lance, you have two choices. You love and treat me properly, as once you did, and give Elizabeth the love that she deserves from her father, or, and this choice I will not repeat once more, you get out of this house and out of our lives. Elizabeth has been treated so badly by being ignored by you that believe me she will not miss you being gone.” Lance thought quickly and knew that this was not the time for a showdown. If that was what Anne wanted he needed time to prepare, and time was what he would have to buy. He was not particularly bothered whether the child or its mother missed him or not, but he was not yet sufficiently prepared to ensure he left on his terms with his resources intact. Supremely confident in his ability to handle women, all women, Lance got up and walked across to where Anne was sat on the floor. Appearing to capitulate and concede to her, he crouched down and cupped her chin in his hands, kissing gently the cheek where he had earlier struck her. His lips brushed at her nose, his tongue quickly darting across her nostrils. “I am sorry my love,” Lance whispered quietly, in his most seductive tone. “Please forgive me. Sometimes I can be so stupid. You know that I do not want to lose you; you know that I love you. Your body is a temple that I wish to worship at, I admire the power of your intelligence, the tenderness of your love, I love the curve of your breasts, the slenderness of your waist, I love the scent of your body and the flavour of your sex.” He knelt down to be more steady, slightly leaning forward causing Anne to part her knees as he kissed her lips, a gentle kiss, full of passion, his tongue slowly licked across her teeth, his right hand stroking her ear, as his left sought her bosom. Anne responded to his tongue by parting her teeth, her own tongue seeking to pass his and their two tongues slid past each other and penetrated the others mouth. At last Lance was returning to be the man she loved, a man capable of kindness and tenderness. Anne put her hand on him, feeling his nipples through the shirt as she rubbed across his chest. Starting at the top she slowly undid the buttons of his shirt until his shirt could be pulled open, leaving her fingers free to roam through the short downy hairs that covered his chest. As he kissed her he pushed her gently back until she lay upon the floor, Lance lying next to her. Lance continued his finger playing, leaving the short tiny hairs on the lobes of her ear, his hand moved to her décolletage, slipping inside her blouse to gently massage her breast through the material of her brassiere. Anne gasped with pleasure as Lance found her right nipple and rolled it between his fingers, gently as if rolling a cigar, not brutally or cruelly as so often he had before. Applying slight pressure to her as he kissed and massaged caused Anne to roll from her side onto her back, completely supine, her legs slightly parted as Lance lay at her side, his fingers walking over her body as they visited every button, every zip, every catch and undid them, one and all. Anne lay there, her blouse undone, her brassiere open and breasts naked save for the hand that gently cupped and held her. Her skirt was undone and Anne raised herself slightly as Lance pulled down at its waist, slipping her skirt off to leave her wearing her camisole panties and stockings. He rolled her left stocking down slowly, and as he moved down her body with his hands, his head followed with its kisses, kissing gently at her navel, his tongue circling before pressing in, and then lapping as it to take on the last vestiges of a heavenly nectar. He kissed along the ruche waistband of her underwear, forcing his tongue past its resistance, its tip running along her hairline. As Lance rolled her stocking below the knee, Anne crooked her leg, allowing Lance to easily roll the stocking the last few inches and off her foot. She sucked in her breath as Lance kissed her through her panties, his kisses had continued down beyond her waist, reaching the lower edge of her underwear, his tongue pushing the loose flimsy material at the top of her leg to one side, seeking and searching, probing and then kissing the warm moist pleasure within. Lance rolled down the stocking of her right leg, slowly his tongue passed the tops of her legs and followed down the rolling stocking top, and as the stocking released her foot, Lance sucked at the toe now naked and unadorned save for a little varnish. Anne held her breath as Lance pulled her toe into his mouth and ran his tongue along the nail edge, her eyes closed, the pleasure erasing the moments of doubt when Lance had arrived home, late, with the slight musky odour that she could not quite place. Now everything was right once more. Once more her husband was loving her and caring for her, treating her the way he should and truly she adored him and only wanted for him to be like this at all times. Exhaling onto his skin as she released her long held breath, she took a breath once more and slid her hands across to his waistband. Anne slid the belt strap off its catch and slipped it free of the buckle, her hand palming the hardness behind the zip, before slowly lowering the zip to undo his trousers and release the pressure within. She pulled the trousers down, Henry raising himself to his toes as his trousers reached his knee, and then leaning once more on his knees to raise his feet from the ground, allowing Anne to completely remove the trousers. Clad now in so few adornments, he only in an unbuttoned shirt and jockey shorts; she only in camisole panties, the coolness of the evening could do little to diminish their ardour and desire for each other. * * * * * Lance drove the van through the morning traffic with his usual cavalier approach. He ignored traffic lights unless they were actually on red with cross traffic and, more importantly, had a traffic camera. He ignored all vehicles waiting to join traffic, or cross in front of him, and yellow boxes were for his personal use. He stopped in them regardless of whether his exit was clear, but abused loudly any other driver with the temerity to leave so much as a wheel in the box if their own exit wasn’t clear. It was his van, it was white, and it suited him perfectly. He did not need a car for going to and from work, it mattered not that he owned the business, the company van got through and did not lose him as much money as a rapidly depreciating company car would. He parked the van at the side of the premises, outside his office window. It might only be a van to some, but he wanted to know where it was at all times. He locked the van, subconsciously listening for the blip of the alarm, and walked into work. “Good Morning Lance”“Good Morning Val. And how are you this morning?” “Okay, I think Lance. I am perhaps just a little tender, not something I could have expected to be this time yesterday.” “I tell you what, perhaps you could make a couple of coffees, come through to the office and we can discuss it further.” Lance walked past Val, through the reception area and into his office. The post would not arrive for another hour, and his men were all working at the new office extension at Bailey’s in the commercial estate on the other side of town, unlike Turners who hadn’t got the contract. He had wondered if Celia had something to do with their loss? Whatever, he considered that he had some time on his hands and could think of a pleasant way to spend it. Val came in backwards, pushing the door open with her bottom, holding two mugs of coffee, swivelling just as she got through, mugs only just missing the door as it swung to on the heavy duty fire closer. Lance watched as Val walked towards him, admiring her walk as her hips moved slightly from side to side, her breasts jiggling her blouse as she moved, Val’s concentration on not spilling a drop of coffee was total. She walked around his desk, standing next to him as she leant forward and put the mugs on the table. “Anything I need to know Val?” “Jim phoned from the site. They have enough stuff for today and tomorrow, but they will need some more 2 mil and conduit by Thursday. If you don’t want Jim to send one of the lads, tell me and I’ll let Jim know when he rings in at lunch time, he said he won’t send anyone just yet. No post yet, no deliveries either, so the screws still haven’t arrived, but hopefully today according to the dispatcher who I chased first thing. Their van will be in our area around 11.” Lance put his hand on her backside and moved his palm in a circling motion. He could feel the edges of her underwear through the fabric of her skirt. Lance was amused as she gasped slightly as he gripped at the hem of her pants through her skirt and pulled them up, causing them to cut into her groin. “You’ve got a cruel streak Mr Paige. You heard me tell you I was a little tender, and what do you do? Straight at it, ram my underwear in, no care as to my well being.” There was a smile on Val’s lips as she spoke and a twinkle in her eyes as she admonished him. “Val, I am so sorry, I do not know what came over me. I am a heartless fellow, I know, let me make kiss you better.” He leant forward and kissed her through the skirt, his tongue pressing hard to follow her outline. “Lance, stop it. You’ll mess my skirt up, and I have to sit out there all day in this skirt and greet everyone that comes in. Neither you nor I want me to do that with big slobbery wet marks down the front” Val pulled back slightly, raised her skirt, and sat astride him on the office chair, leant forward and kissed him slowly on his lips, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders, her weight on his legs. “Now Val, careful. You know I’m a little tender myself, and you know where, but I was really being too much of a gentleman to mention it, you know, because of the cause and all that, but seeing as how you felt it necessary to go on and on and on…” His voice trailed off, his difficulty in speaking caused partly by Val’s tongue which seemed to be attempting to mate with his, and partly by the distraction of some alarming sounding creaks from the chair. Lance pulled away, and pushed at Val “Let’s have our coffee.” “Oh I see. So I was just a quickie yesterday was I, and now you’ve had your way with me, you’re not interested? You thought, ‘ I know, I’m bored, I’ll have a bit of fun and see if I can get into Val’s knickers’. And like a fool, I fell for your flattery and your tricks, and I bet you kept my pants as some trophy that you could show off down the pub. I bet you went home to her and had her too. Bastard” All her words had come out as a torrent, she hardly seemed to breathe as she blurted out her fears sat on the edge of his desk. Lance knew that she was, of course, right about most of it, but not all, especially not the reason he kept her underwear. He had of course had sex with Anne, but that was something Val absolutely did not need to know, Lance considered that now did not seem the right time for a game of truth or dare. “You silly sod. The chair was creaking and I thought it might break and hurt you. And after yesterday, do you honestly think that I would have the interest in another woman, or even the stamina if I had? And I kept your underwear so that I could be reminded of you at times we were apart – I kept them close to me.” He pulled them from his trousers and tossed them back to her. “Oh” she said as the pants landed on her lap, slid to one side and fell towards the floor, the gusset snagging on the desk drawer handle and leaving them swinging slightly.” “Bet James Bond never managed to do that with Moneypenny’s” “Bet James Bond never had Moneypenny or her knickers.” “Would’ve if I were Bond and you were Moneypenny.” “Bond wasn’t married” “Actually he was. George Lazenby played Bond, one of my favourite Bond films with some great action effects, and tender moments too. Yeah, a good film if you ignore the quality of some of the acting.” “Well if you’ve got it on video, bring it round to my flat and we can watch it together.” “Might” “Oh sorry, of course, how could you explain that to the little wife at home?” “You’re getting awfully bitchy.” “You just said that yesterday wasn’t only a quickie, that implies that you want more, and not just a quick roll around the office when no-one is around. That means a relationship. That’s fine, but you will find that it is not fine with your wife. She will not allow you to just come and go as you please, and will expect to know where you are, especially if you are not lying next to her in bed. She will also expect you to carry on physically with her, otherwise she will suspect something.” “You’ve got it all sussed haven’t you?” “No, not at all. But you did not hire me because I was stupid, which is good because I am not. I don’t think that you hired me as a potential concubine, although that may be the path you now expect to go down. You hired me because I had good references as a secretary and PA, and because Celia had left and I was so much better than the other temps. I can now imagine why she left.” “Actually, no you can’t imagine why,” and Lance wasn’t going to tell her. He just hoped Celia & Val never met up and compared notes, now that would be an interesting meeting, and one he would be well advised to be a long way from. A small lie was in order. “Celia left because she got an offer from another company, nearer home and on more money. I decided that I wasn’t going to try and match the money, otherwise it set a precedent and I would have the whole lot coming in saying they had been offered more money elsewhere. I called her bluff, as I saw it, It wasn’t a bluff. She left. End of story.” Lance looked across at Val, thinking that not only was she a fine looking woman, but that she did have a good brain – a formidable combination. He would have to be careful if he were to keep things ticking along as he wanted. “Look Val, what can I say? You have proved yourself a real boon to my company. I am pleased that you have delivered the potential I saw in you when you started as a temp. You have made my business life easier. And now, our personal lives have crossed too. I did not intend or plan for that to happen. I am happy however that it has. I don’t know where ‘we’ will go. I’m not the kind of man that is just interested in a quick fuck. I enjoy the company of a woman, I enjoy getting to know what she likes, what she enjoys, what turns her on. I love it as she does the same of me, and the relationship becomes a relationship, and then, the pleasure side grows and becomes fully mutual. Then, and only then does it take over and become all consuming. Until then?” “Until then what Lance, what? We just have hurried sessions on the office floor, you go home spend a happy evening with Anne, retire to bed and service the wife? I’m supposed to like that am I?” “No, Val, you are not supposed to ‘like’ that, and no it isn’t necessarily going to be ‘like’ that. I can find many ways to be with you, I can spend some nights with you, and whilst I may spend most of my evenings and nights with Anne, it doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t rather be with you.” Val turned and looked towards the window as she thought about his words, expecting to see his van, she was surprised to notice that the blinds had been turned. It meant no one could see in and he could not see his van. Lance must have done it as she made the coffee. Her conclusion was that he obviously had planned her continued seduction. What she could not yet fathom was his reason, solace, or just sex? Her life was empty at the moment, and she had no problem with the physical side of a relationship, she enjoyed good sex as much as anyone, she just feared for the complications that being ‘the other woman’ might eventually bring. “So what are you going to do about Anne?” “What do you mean?” “You know what I mean. Are you going to just roll over and go to sleep each night, ignore her, or are you going to talk to her, make love with her, chat about this and that, go out for meals together, do the things married couples do?” “How should I know? Look, she spends most of her time looking after the child, the child that she tricked me into having, I certainly wasn’t involved in its planning. Anne is usually tired from moping around the house all day. We haven’t spoken much more than a few words to each other for months now. I hardly expect her to come looking for love from me, and if she does, I don’t know how I will respond. If I do have to, then I will. But it won’t be love making, it will be just sex.” “Don’t you dare come to me telling me if you have sex with her, I don’t want to know. I have no interest in your life with Anne, I don’t intend for it to affect me. Let me also tell you that I have no interest in simply having sex with you for the sake of it, neither at this stage am I trying to usurp your wife. I don’t know where we are going, I mean it, I really do not know. I am happy to go along for the ride for now, but be assured if Anne rocks the boat, I plan on getting off, rather than be tipped into hot water.” She reached down and took her pants from their position on the drawer front, slid the drawer open, and popped her underwear inside. As she stood, she fixed his eyes with hers, reached up under her skirt and slid the underwear that she was wearing down to her knees. She sat back on the edge of his desk, her skirt bunched up behind her, the wood of the desk cool against her skin, and further slid her underwear down towards her ankles. Their eyes still locked, Lance took her hands in his and stopped her. He took his hands off hers and with a steady movement removed her underwear himself. He stood and, stooping slightly, kissed her gently on the lips as his hands rested on her knees, and then slowly moved up, raising the edge of her skirt as they slipped inside. “What do you like?” Lance asked as his hands gently stroked her, lightly running over her, fingers gently brushing and grooming her hairs, feeling the slickness of her arousal grow as he maintained a random sequence of finger movements that always seemed to be about to push in, but didn’t. “What is it that you really like a man to do, what makes you aroused, what do you want me to do?” And as he asked the last question his palm pushed hard against her and two fingers curled from his palm, straightened and entered. Val took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and squeezed her muscles back against his fingers. “That’s ok for starters, but I know that is not all you have to offer” She replied in a soft and quiet voice, her hands fumbling slightly at his waist, undoing the buckle of his belt, and then opening his trousers. “Oh my Mr Paige, It seems that the main course is ready and about to be served”

An Affair Thread

Not being greatly experienced in these things, I tried to imagaine how an affair might start. Of course I have no doubt that the following is nothing more than a cliche.

Affair

Lance pressed the button that called Val in from the outer office, and leaned back in his chair waiting for her entrance. She came in quietly closing the office door behind her. Val had replaced Celia last month, Celia deciding it would better to work elsewhere following Lance’s decision to stop seeing her, and promptly resigning and walking out of the office. He found out later that she had gone to work for Turners on the other side of town. There had been a few days of Agency Temps, Val being the last. Val had been proficient, very effective, and Lance had quickly offered her a full time position. Lance now re-examined Val as she walked across to the desk. Val’s medium length blond hair was immaculately clipped neatly back behind a dark hair band, her white blouse still sharply pressed despite it being the end of a long day in the office. Her underwear was only vaguely visible through the heavy shear of the blouse material. Below the blouse her vented black skirt was smoothed down, stopping just above the knees. She had entered with a stenographer’s style notebook in hand.

“Yes Mr Paige?” she enquired as she came towards the desk.

“Now Val, less of this Mr Paige. When no one is around, call me Lance. And no one is around are they Val?”

“No Mr Paige, sorry, Lance. No one is here. Everyone else has gone home for the day. I was just finishing off my self when you buzzed. What would you like me to do for you Mr Paige, I’m sorry, Lance?” She asked flipping open her notepad and taking a seat at the chair in front of his desk before looking him directly in the eyes.”

Lance looked at her, met her blue eyes with his and smiled. “Aah now Val that is the question. What would I like you to do for me? Well, look, come around the desk and be a little less formal for a start?”

Unsure of where this was going, Val stood up, and put her notepad on the desk. She walked around to where Lance was sat and stood directly in front of him a questioning look upon her face. Lance put his arms around her waist, one hand on each of her buttocks pulling her down to him.

“Now then Val, lets see what we can do for each other,” Lance said as he looked up to kiss her as she fell down to him surprised by the speed of his approach.

Val turned her face away, refusing his overtures, mortified at her own naivety. “No Mr Paige, Lance, No. Not like this, no.” Struggling to pull away, she slipped and put her hand out to stem her fall. Her outstretched hand impacted his lap with her whole weight momentarily behind it.

Lance whooshed as the air expelled from his lungs, his hands clutching his tormented groin, his face red as the shards of pain shot through his testicles, the agony of fire replacing the fire of arousal.

Horrified, Val pulled back, shocked at what she had done, and having regained her composure, she rushed to the door and into the toilet. Under the sink tap she rinsed through a mug normally used for coffee, and filled it with fresh cold water, before returning to the office and Lance.

“Mr Paige, here, drink this, “she said, offering the drink to his lips. “ I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you there, I would never do that, I am so sorry”

Lance waved his arm, a wind milling gesture, swallowed a little of the water, and then took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure, if not his self-esteem. He really wasn’t sure if her actions were intentional or accidental. Either way he had been unprepared for the blow and his groin had taken the full brunt of her assault with the not unsurprising results. Finally able to gather himself, he waved his hands once more, beckoning her over to him. As she approached him, he again put his arms around her waist.

“Lets try that one more time shall we?” He said as he pulled her down to him again. Fearful of hurting again, she did not struggle as her boss pulled her to him, his hands firmly gripping her, sliding up her back as she slowly sank towards him under his relentless pressure, until eventually her lips were in front of his, her eyes looking directly into his, her nose touching the tip of his.

He leant forward slightly and brushed his lips on hers, his eyes closed as the pleasure of the kiss exceeded his expectations, her soft velvety lips warm on his and the minted perfume of her breath in his nostrils combining to arouse him to levels where the pain of her stumble became a distant memory. Slowly, with increasing passion she kissed back, the pressure from her lips finally matching his. Her eyes closed as she too savoured the moment, a moment that she knew should not be happening, a moment that she knew was just a cliché, and a moment that left her unsure of what to do next. After all, she was a secretary, and he was her boss.

Lance was now on his feet, his lips still pressed to Val’s, causing his secretary to back-pedal until she was stopped against the desk. Still Lance forced his lips on hers, his tongue probing, now pushing her head back further and further, until she fell, her upper body horizontal upon the desk. Lance was over her, his lips crushing hers, his hands now no longer on her back, but now were on her front, a stimulus she hardly asked for yet did not reject as the buttons on her blouse were slowly and determinedly unbuttoned.

Lance’s hand felt the fullness of her breast, caressing and teasing the hardening nipple as Val’s body responded to his advances. He pushed aside the lace cups of her underwear with one hand as his other stole up her leg, moving her skirt to one side, his intentions now fully apparent. Her breasts fully revealed, his mouth moved down first to suckle at one before moving slowly to the other. There was no way to mistake his purpose and Val no longer made any attempt or had any desire to defer him. Lance reached down and undid the belt of his trousers, and releasing the catch, allowed his trousers to fall to the floor stepping out of them as he pressed forward. As he stood back, Val made no attempt to move, her back pressed to the desk, her legs dangled apart with her feet not quite touching the floor. Lance stepped forward between her legs pressing his hardness against her through her underwear. Lance kissed first one breast and then the other before moving his head down, his tongue tracing a path to her sex. As he moved down his hands took their own path down each side of her now naked upper body, travelling over the rucked skirt obscenely bunched about her hips, to find their way to the tops of her legs. His tongue and fingers combined and he slid her tights and short white briefs down, pulling them firmly to pass the weight of her on the desk, rolling them down and pulling them off one leg, leaving them dangling like a flag on the other.

As he knelt between her legs, her sex naked in front of him, he took in the musky and slightly sweaty aroma that assailed his nostrils, detected the scent of her arousal, saw the glistening of her readiness to take him. As he stood he pushed down his under clothes and leaning forward to kiss her breasts, his arousal found its path and entered her, her breath gasping as he penetrated and pushed hard against her, not pausing until he was fully inside her. They were as one in their animalistic desire for sating their needs, for enjoying the pleasures of bodies freely shared in the joy of sex. An affair freely entered and enjoined by both participants, an affair of two equal combatants, both giving and taking with pleasure and not remorse or guilt. Two willing partners enthusiastically embarking on their first assignation upon the desk that was the symbol as well as the actuality of their relationship. Business desk, boss and secretary.

Pregnant Reconciliation

To start things off gently. An idea of a novel I've had for a while. Husband rapes wife in drunken fit, she gets pregnant etc. The following is an early part of the book, post conception. It is deliberatly a bit tame.


Reconciliation

Lance stopped off at the village stores on his way home and picked up a carton of vanilla ice cream. Anne seemed to have such a craving for it since the morning sickness had stopped a few weeks ago, and Lance guessed that there would be little left of the last supplies he had bought home.

Jackie, at the office, had asked several times how Anne was feeling, now that she was pregnant, had it caused much change at home, was it more difficult now that Anne was indisposed, with him having a home and a business to run? Today she had asked again could she do anything to help?

Lance had immediately thought of the one thing that she could do to help him, and then quickly dismissed the idea. He did not need any more complications in his life just now. Driving home however his mind had wandered back to the lascivious thoughts that he enjoyed when Jackie made her suggestion of help, and began to get cross once more with Anne. Anne had refused him time and time again. The last time that they had sex was the night she got pregnant, and now she just used being pregnant as an excuse to rebut his advances. He had his needs and desires, and a wife had duties to see to them, and she was failing in those duties. She wanted him to look after her whilst she was pregnant, why could she not do the same for him?

He pulled up on the drive and after locking the van, went up to the front door. His latch key ready in his hand. As he raised his hand to unlock the door, the door opened, Anne smiling a greeting.

“Hi” he responded, “I bought you some more Ice Cream from the Spar. How have you been.”

“Fat & Lonely”

“Lonely I can understand. Look, I’m a normal bloke in need of a hug, I need some comfort, I need a wife who doesn’t cold shoulder me and who cares something about my emotional and physical needs. Fat? Well no. You’re not fat, you’re pregnant.”

“Lord above, you’ve got a bloody nerve. Your feelings & needs? Didn’t think much of mine the night you got me pregnant did you? Look, I don’t want to fight. I feel fat, I don’t feel attractive, and right now I would like to feel attractive rather than fat.”

“Love, I’m sorry. Go and sit down, I’ll be through in a minute.” Lance walked past her, along the hall and into the kitchen. He dropped the Ice Cream into the freezer, poured some ice into two glasses and went to the drinks cupboard. He poured some Cointreau into one glass, quite a generous amount as he would be drinking it, and into the other some vanilla essence and a splash of tonic. He went into the sitting room, “I’m just going to grab a quick shower. I’ve poured some drinks, they are chilling. Come on upstairs in a few minutes”

Lance took the glasses and went upstairs. He dropped the glasses off in the master bedroom where he had not slept for so long, and carried on to the shower. He stripped, putting all his clothes in a pile to go into the washing basket later, and stood in front of the hand wash basin, tap running as he waited for the warm water to replace the cold. Soaking his face with hot water, he lathered and carefully shaved away the days growth, paying careful attention to the small dimple in his chin. He then took his electric shaver and carefully trimmed the longer hairs of his side burns before trimming the hairs of his groin. Going to the shower he selected the pulse setting and gave himself an invigorating shower, careful to wash every part and not to overdo the fragranced shower gel.

As he climbed from the shower a towel started to rub his back dry. He turned to find Anne, naked and swollen, holding the towel and rubbing him dry, and as he turned she slowly moved the towel down his chest, across his stomach and down to his groin. He groaned as she took hold of him, enlarging in her hands as her long awaited touch revisited and revitalised him. He placed his hands under her stomach, lifting the weight of their child, and leant forward to kiss her. She closed her eyes as he kissed her, and then led him through the shower room to the bed, before laying down gently on the counterpane.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered softly, “your touch, your beauty, your sex.” He leant across to the glasses and passed her the vanilla ice drink. As she took her first sip and then smiled at his thoughtfulness, he took a cointreau covered ice cube in his hand and slowly circled her left nipple. She shuddered at the cold of the first drip against her skin and then groaned in passion as he drove his ice across her chest, visiting first one nipple and then the other.

She turned over, lying on her stomach, pulling the bed pillows under her to even her out and relieve the pressure. “Take me, take me properly, but not lying on my stomach, I don’t want us to hurt our baby.”

As his hands roamed across her buttocks before seeking the centre of her passion, the moist readiness waiting and wanting him, she murmured just once “this time darling, be gentle”

This time, he obliged.