In The Name Of Love (10 page)

She knocked softly on the door, and then turned the handle
to open the door. The light was on in the room, and as soon as she entered the
bedroom she saw it was empty and the bed untouched. "He must be in the
bathroom," she muttered to her image in the full length mirror on the left of
the door, as she left the room.

The bathroom door was open and the room was in darkness.
Still, she put the light on to check, but he wasn't there. Her image looked
from the mirror over the sink, raising her eyebrows before saying, "Perhaps he
went down for something to eat…"

She returned to his bedroom, just in case she'd missed him,
but it was still empty. Closing the door quietly, she heard voices coming from
Joyce's room.

"That's funny, because Joyce said Cyril never came to her
room…" April's voice tailed off as she recognised Grant's laugh, which was
followed by the unmistakeable noises of a couple seriously engaged in the act
of ‘making love'.

Her heart sank, her world collapsed around her, and she spun
on her heel to run back to her bedroom. Standing at the other end of the
landing, she saw Cyril's tall figure in the doorway of his room, and without
thinking she found herself running towards him.

"Cyril, hold me," she said, as she ran into his open arms.
They clasped around her like bands of steel, and she felt herself floating in
the air as he closed the bedroom door and carried her towards his bed.

The room was quite dark, with no light on, but the velvet
curtains were open and the flickering light from a street lamp shone through
the trees and net curtains to give a little light. She looked up at his face,
which was severe, yet kind, and for the first time realised he was quite
handsome and must have been a real good-looker when Joyce first met him.

He leaned over to lay her down on the bed, but her arms had
closed around his neck, stopping him from standing. Their faces were inches apart,
their eyes flitting about as they looked closely at each other – as if for the
first time.

His right arm was trapped beneath her thighs from when he
laid her on the bed, so with his left hand he stroked her hair from her eyes,
and then leaned down to kiss her forehead. As she felt his warm lips, she
pulled harder on his neck, and his kisses moved down the length of her nose and
then his mouth was poised right above hers.

"Oh, please don't stop now; I really need a kiss," she
thought, willing him to make the first move, while thinking, "He has to kiss me
first, or he'll think I'm some kind of hussy, so I'll wait for him. I'll let my
perfume do its work, but if he starts to move away, I will then kiss him. I'll
kiss him so hard he'll wonder what hit him!"

Their lips touched, lightly at first and then with
increasing pressure as their passion mounted. Her lips parted and she felt
Cyril's tongue flick along her lips and then retreat, as if embarrassed. She
let her tongue slide along the length of his lips and then gasped as he put his
arms around her body; squeezing her tight while he kissed her firmly with
rising fervour.

His tongue became more adventurous and darted in and out of her
mouth like an elusive elf playing among delphiniums. She wrapped her tongue
around his and sank into the pillows as she felt his hands start to explore her
body.

He ran them gently up her legs, and then beneath the
nightdress that had ridden up her body, until he cupped her breasts in each
large hand. As his fingers gently squeezed her nipples, she writhed with
pleasure and kissed him with more passion than she knew she had.

She needed to
feel him inside her body, which was now aching for love, so she reached down
and slowly undid his pyjama buttons until she was able to slide the top off his
shoulders.

Cyril was still standing on the floor as he continued to
explore her body, pushing her nightdress up until it ringed her neck.

April giggled and said, "Slip it over my head, Cyril, it's
choking me there…" and she lifted her head as the silky material brushed over
her face. As she lay back on the bed, she glanced up at Cyril who seemed to be
staring at her naked body, as if in a trance.

"Don't you like what you see?"

"I adore every inch of what I see. You are the most beautiful
woman in the world."

She bridled with pleasure, but said, "I think that's a
slight exaggeration."

Cyril leaned over to kiss her breasts, the nipples crinkled
with pleasure, and she felt a stirring of hot desire deep within her body.

Reaching out with her right hand she caught the cord holding
up his pyjama bottoms and pulled it, freeing the loose knot and allowing the
pyjamas to slide down his thighs to the floor. She was pleased to see how well
endowed he was, but more than a little disappointed to see that his penis still
hung limp and inactive.

This past few days Joyce had told her on many occasions that
she believed Cyril was now impotent, after so many years without active sex, so
she was prepared for it, but had hoped for some reaction after their hectic
kissing and caressing. She reached out and took the flaccid flesh in her hands,
gently kneading it with her fingers, but there was not a twitch of life in
response to her efforts.

Cyril stopped kissing her breasts and said, "I'm afraid I'm
not going to be able to finish what I started." He stood up and reached for his
pyjamas.

April jumped off the bed and put her foot on them, stopping
him from picking them up. She said, "Don't talk nonsense, Cyril, I don't care
about that. I just need to feel your arms around me; to hold me tight and to
comfort me."

She pulled back the covers on the bed and taking his hand
she said, "Come on, between these sheets with me and kiss me again. You're a
wonderful kisser…"

They snuggled down between the cool sheets, their lips
fastened together and their hand exploring each other's body. She felt so good
in his arms, and as their kissing slowed down, she relaxed with a contended
sigh.

"Cyril, I want to ask you a personal question. You needn't
answer, of course, but I would just like to know what your sex with Joyce used
to be like…"

He didn't answer for a while, and she worried that she'd
upset him by the question, but then he said, "Brief."

She was shocked by his short reply, but then amused and she
started to giggle. Cyril saw the funny side and soon he was chuckling with her,
until their lips met once more and the kissing started again. She loved the
strength of his kisses, the smell of his body, and the touch of his flesh on
her body. She almost purred with satisfaction, and realised that she'd never
been so relaxed and at ease, even with her husband.

They paused for breath and lay back on the pillows.

"Now it's my turn for a question," he said, leaning up on
one elbow and looking into her face as he spoke. "I've read in a magazine about
how women enjoy to be kissed down there," he said, sliding his hand down her
stomach until it cupped her pussy. She shivered with delight at his touch and
waited for his question. "Have you ever been kissed down there?"

Not daring to speak in case her naivety became apparent, she
shook her head. She could feel his hands caressing her, with one finger probing
around her pubic mound, making her quite moist. She eased her legs open to give
him better access.

"Well, that makes two of us, because I've never kissed a
woman there, but looking at your body tonight it is now something I really want
to try with you. May I?"

She leaned forward and kissed his lips, and then said, "I
would love you to."

He returned her kisses with hot passion and then his kisses
went down her neck and onto her breasts. His head disappeared beneath the
covers and she turned on her side as his hand caressed her buttocks while his
kisses went down her stomach and neared her waiting crotch.

She felt his head ease between her legs, which opened wider,
providing him with easy access to her genitals. There was a burning sensation
deep within her body and she ached with desire, while quivering with
anticipation for his first touch.

She felt his hot breath blow through her pubic
hair, warming her taut flesh, and then her thighs trembled as the tip of his
tongue caressed her firm labia. His tongue slid along their moist length
mingling juices and easing open the passage he sought.

As his tongue twisted, pushed, and licked every inch of
flesh, it also penetrated deeper with each pushing movement of his bobbing
head. April lay on her side and lifted her leg over his head, trapping his
eager head between her thighs. The deeper he delved with his searching tongue,
the harder she squeezed and kept him at his work.

She opened her eyes to see his limp penis hanging long and
loose not more than a couple of inches away and she took it between her
fingers, letting them flutter along the flesh from tip to base in an effort to
create a response. With her right hand, she cupped his testicles, letting her
forefinger push between his buttocks. She felt the tightly clenched orifice of
his anus, and let the long nail of her finger scratch inquisitively back and
to.

His penis twitched a couple of times, but otherwise there
was no response. She eyed the penis in dismay, as Cyril's fast moving tongue
increased the desire in her body close to boiling point. On a number of
occasions, she'd refused to give her husband oral sex, but today it seemed to
be the only way she'd liven Cyril's penis sufficiently to bring about her own
satisfaction.

As she moved her open mouth forward, instead of the revulsion she
experienced with Grant, she felt a growing excitement. Perhaps it was the
challenge, or perhaps it was the step into the unknown—the fear and
anticipation of what lay ahead; but she licked the end of his penis with
purpose and lust, determined to get a result.

She moistened her lips and slid them over his dry glans,
letting her tongue wrap around and wet his still limp flesh. She sucked on his
cock, and then bit down gently with her teeth, scraping them along the whole
length of his penis as she sucked it in. She stopped tickling his anus with her
nail, and rubbed her finger back and two across the opening, which she felt was
now quite moist. As she pushed the tip of her finger into the hole, she felt
the flesh in her mouth begin to harden.

Her head moved up and down along the once limp flesh that
was now growing long and hard within her mouth. Unable to allow it into her
throat, she kept the attention of her lips and tongue on the top half of his
penis, letting her left hand caress up and down the lower part of the hardening
flesh, while her left hand played cupped his testicles. The deeper she thrust
her finger into his tightly clenched anus, the harder his cock seemed to get.

She pulled it from her mouth and stared at it, amazed that
the once flaccid, seemingly dead flesh was now some eight inches long with the
bright red top staring at her with menacing intent. As Cyril pulled his head
from between her thighs, she lay back on the pillows, her legs wide apart and
pulsing with anticipation at the excitement to come.

She watched Cyril kneel on the bed beside her, as he looked
down at his now rampant penis waiting for active duty. He lifted his head and
smiled at her, saying, "You know, it has been more than ten years since the
last time…"

"Well, what are you waiting for—are you just going to sit
and admire it, or can you remember what to do with it?"

"You hussy, I'll show you exactly what I remember and give
you a fucking you won't forget in a hurry," he said, smiling as he moved
between her thighs, letting his balls roll along her body from breasts to
pussy.

"Gently, Cyril, don't rush it, will you," she said, more
than a little worried at the size of his cock, at least an inch longer than her
husband's.

"We have the whole night ahead of us, and I don't intend to
waste a minute."

Grant lay on his back in Joyce's bed, replete from an hour
of the most aggressive sex he could recall. Even as a teenager, when Joyce was
a dozen years younger, they'd never been so passionate in their lovemaking. It made
him feel like he was on his honeymoon with a wife who loved and desired him
with equal love and passion. He wanted the night to last forever.

Joyce lifted her head from the pillow and rested on an elbow
as she looked at him. He'd seen this look in her face a couple of times
recently, and he wondered what was on her mind. He didn't have long to wait.

"I'm not going to beat about the bush, but come straight to
the point. Are you having an affair with April's mother?"

He'd wondered earlier if it was this thought that was worrying
her, so his response was immediate, "Never in a million years. You were the
first love in my life, Joyce, and I often wish you were the only one. I asked
you to divorce Cyril and marry me many years ago, if you remember."

"I do, my darling, and each time I regret my answer."

"You're too young and immature, I think you said, but you
were more worried about what people would say."

"Do you forgive me?"

"I forgive you for not marrying me when I was a teenager,
but not for suggesting that I sleep with that dumpy little woman in Leeds. For
that I shall have to punish you…"

"And what is my punishment, oh Lord and Master?"

He nodded down at his exhausted penis, and said, "Nurture it
back to life and I will forgive you." He rested his head on the pillow and
waited with mounting excitement. His wife would never take his cock into her
mouth, but Joyce seemed to delight in it. Sheer anticipation made it twitch
against his thighs.

"I don't think it is going to take too long, I see signs of
life already," said Joyce, as she leaned over his body, letting her fleshy
breasts rub over his cheeks and then down his chest as she neared his penis
with her mouth. She swung her leg over his recumbent form, until she was
astride his chest, her spread-eagled bottom close to his face.