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Authors: Ray Gordon

BOOK: Lust Call
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I moved back and leaned against the fence to steady my trembling body. I pulled my skirt down to conceal my adulterous pussy, my lesbian pussy, and I breathed deeply as I recovered from my girl-induced climax. I felt dizzy with sex, confused, anxious . . . What the hell had I done? More to the point, who were these people? As the man murmured something and the girl giggled, I headed back towards the house. I needed to think, I needed to work things out.

‘Hi, sexy,' Barry said as I reached the patio. ‘Are you all right? You look very . . .'

‘I'm hot,' I cut in.

‘You're telling me,' he quipped. ‘How about you and me . . .'

‘Not now, Barry,' I sighed, wondering whether to tell him the truth.

‘Later, then?'

‘Maybe.'

‘Are you sure you're all right?' he persisted.

‘I'm hot, that's all. I'm going to have a rest.'

‘Oh, OK. I might see you later.'

I closed the back door behind me and went into the lounge to flop on to the sofa. I could still taste the girl's orgasmic milk as I pictured her solid clitoris. She'd want more, I reflected. She'd want me to lick and suck and finger and . . . What the hell was I going to do? I leapt to my feet as the front doorbell rang and spied through the net curtains. Derek was standing on the step with a slight grin furling his lips. Shit, I thought, realising that he'd called round for sex. Where the hell was all this going to end?

Eight

RIDDLED WITH GUILT
and confusion, I spent several hours doing the housework. The phone had rung three times and Derek had tapped on the front door and called through the letter box, but I'd got on with the washing and ironing. After a shower, I dressed in jeans and drove to the supermarket. I was trying to get my life back to some sort of normality. I'd fucked half the neighbours, I'd had oral sex with another girl . . . I had to get my life back on track.

I'd just finished putting the shopping away when the phone rang. This time, I decided to answer it. If it was my blackmailer, I'd tell him to go to hell and hang up. If it was Dave, I'd come across as happy and normal and tell him that I'd been out shopping and I was planning on making him a nice meal. Everything was back to normal, apart from the threat of the photographs.

‘Sarah, it's Jane,' my friend said.

‘Hi, how are you?' I asked her. ‘I've been meaning to call you.'

‘I'm fine. I haven't seen you for ages. It's amazing how the weeks just fly past. Listen, do you want to come over this evening?'

‘Yes, I'd love to come over. As it happens, Dave is going to be late tonight.'

‘That's great. Come and have something to eat with us. I have to go out, but I should be back by six.'

‘I'll be there at six. Oh, and I'll bring some wine.'

‘We'll get tipsy and have a laugh,' she said with a giggle. ‘Actually, it was Sam's idea to invite you over.'

‘Really?'

‘He decided to order a takeaway this evening and suggested you join us.'

‘I could do with getting out,' I sighed. ‘That's great, Jane. Thank you.'

‘OK, I'll see you later.'

This was just what I needed, I thought happily. Get out of the house for a while, spend some time with Jane and relax and catch up on the gossip . . . Things were getting back to normal. My only concern was the photographic evidence of my adultery. Would my blackmailer email the photos to Dave? Would he print them and send them by post? There was no point in speculating, I knew as I changed into a short summer dress. As far as I was concerned, all that had happened with Barry, Keith and Derek was history. And the unseen girl? I again pictured the solid protrusion of her clitoris. I'd been confused, I thought. Confused and blackmailed, that's why I'd had oral sex with her. I certainly wasn't a bloody lesbian.

The short walk to Jane's house only took me ten minutes. It was so nice to feel relaxed, I mused as I rang the doorbell. I'd not eaten properly for a while, so it would be nice to enjoy a decent meal and a few glasses of wine. I wouldn't have to worry about my phone ringing or Derek pestering me for sex. The house was pristine and I'd be home by eight and cook something really nice for Dave. We might even have
sex, I thought, wondering how to explain my shaved pussy. I was going to have to cross that bridge at some stage.

‘Hi, Sarah,' Jane's husband greeted me as he opened the door. ‘Come in, come in. Jane's not back yet, but she shouldn't be too long.'

‘Thanks, Sam,' I said, passing him the bottle of wine and following him into the lounge.

‘So, how are things?' he asked me. ‘Er . . . Wine or . . .'

‘Wine, please. Things are fine. Dave's been working away in Morocco.'

‘Morocco? I'll use this bottle, it's straight out of the fridge. He's keeping busy, then?'

‘Yes, he's doing very well at the moment.'

‘There you go.' He passed me a glass of wine as I sat on the sofa, and plonked himself in the armchair opposite. ‘It's great to see you, Sarah. I was saying to Jane that we must all get together some time and have a barbecue.'

‘Yes, I'd like that. So, how's your job going? Did you get your promotion?'

‘Yes, I did. I have a couple of weeks off but I'm now working with a couple of great guys who . . .'

As he rambled on, I noticed him eyeing my naked legs. My stomach somersaulting, I nodded or shook my head appropriately as he talked about his job. But my mind was filling with thoughts of crude sex, fucking orgasms, licking, sucking, spunking . . . What the hell was wrong with me, I wondered anxiously as my clitoris swelled and my pussy milk seeped into the tight crotch of my panties. Had I no control over my desires for debauched sex?

Sam was in his forties, and extremely good looking. But I didn't want to look upon him as a sexual conquest. Jane was a good friend of mine, and the
last thing I wanted was to screw her husband. She was also in her forties, and it seemed that they'd been married forever. They had a lovely home and, as far as I knew, a great relationship. I couldn't destroy that.

Sam and I drank wine and talked and joked, and my desire to have him grew with every passing minute. His dark hair swept back from his rugged face, his smile displaying a perfect row of white teeth, he was quite a catch. But he belonged to Jane, I reminded myself. There again, Barry belonged to Jilly and Derek was married and . . . My womb contracting as Sam focused on my naked thighs, I took a deep breath and tried to control myself. A quick blowjob, I mused wickedly. It would only take a few minutes to suck his purple knob into my wet mouth and wank his hard shaft and bring out his spunk. God, why was I so thirsty for fresh spunk? Control yourself, Sarah, I thought inwardly. Control your bloody self.

Losing the battle, I parted my thighs and displayed the tight crotch of my white panties to his wide eyes. I didn't want to do this, but I couldn't help myself. I'd thought that I'd moved on, got back to normality. I'd vowed to be faithful to my husband, start afresh and . . . But the nymphomaniac in me wouldn't rest. The very notion of being alone in a room with another man sent quivers through my womb. My outer lips swelling, my vagina contracting, I wanted Sam.

Finally dragging his gaze away from my bulging panties, he opened another bottle of wine and refilled our glasses. Losing all control, I slipped my hand up my skirt and pulled my panties aside before he turned and passed me my drink. If the sight of my hairless pussy lip bulging from the side of my panties didn't stiffen his cock, nothing would. I'd have him if it was the last thing I did, I vowed as he retook his seat.

The wine going to my head, I again parted my thighs. My stomach somersaulting, I loved the danger and excitement of exhibitionism. The very idea of Jane's husband gazing at my vaginal lip sent my arousal soaring to amazing heights, and I knew that I was hooked on flashing. Sam lowered his eyes and stared at me, obviously stunned as he focused on the fleshy swell of my pussy lip. What was he thinking, I wondered as I chatted about the weather and the gardening I'd been doing. Had he realised that I was deliberately displaying the most private part of my eager body? I'd not worn a bra beneath my blouse because it was such a warm evening, and my nipples were clearly visible through the tight material. He must have thought me a slut, I mused excitedly as my pussy milk flowed and my clitoris swelled. Did he want to fuck me?

‘Do you think Jane will be long?' I asked him, licking my succulent lips provocatively.

‘I don't know,' he replied abstractedly. ‘Er . . . How are you getting on with Dave?'

‘Getting on?' I echoed. ‘I suppose we're OK.'

‘Marriage becomes boring after a few years,' he sighed. ‘Do you find that?'

‘I know what you mean. It's inevitable, I suppose.'

‘Jane and I are OK,' he said, unable to drag his eyes away from my pussy lip. ‘I suppose we sort of rub along together.'

‘Dave and I haven't done any rubbing for ages,' I quipped with a giggle.

‘You haven't done any . . . Oh, I see what you mean.'

‘Sex, Sam. I'm talking about sex.'

‘Yes, of course. Do you enjoy sex?'

‘Well, yes. Doesn't everyone?'

‘I love sex, Sarah. You do know what I'm saying, don't you?'

‘I think so.'

‘You're a horny little thing,' he said, leaving his chair and kneeling before me. Easing my knees apart, he smiled. ‘I've always imagined fucking you and . . .'

‘Do it, Sam,' I breathed, almost ripping my panties off. ‘Fuck me.'

He unbuckled his belt, lowered his trousers and proudly displayed his erect penis, his bulbous knob. I was hungry for sex, and he knew it. The feel of his solid cock entering my tight vagina driving me wild, I lay back on the sofa and parted my legs to the maximum as he impaled me completely on his magnificent organ. My hairless pussy lips stretched around another man's rock-hard cock, my clitoris massaged by his pussy-wet shaft, I closed my eyes as he increased his rhythm.

I had no idea when Jane would be back, but I was sure that we'd hear her come in. We'd have plenty of time to sort ourselves out and appear innocent after our adulterous act. I'd fuck her husband, my vaginal throat would swallow the spunk that should have been hers, and she'd be none the wiser. Then, we'd enjoy a meal, chat and drink wine, and she'd have no idea that my cunt was brimming with her husband's spunk. Adultery, I loved it.

‘I've dreamed about fucking you, Sarah,' Sam breathed.

‘You're a naughty boy,' I said huskily.

‘And you're a naughty girl. It was my idea to invite you here this evening. I knew that Jane would be out and . . .'

‘Fuck me, Sam. Just fuck me.'

Had he really dreamed about fucking me, I wondered as he slipped his hands beneath my blouse and squeezed the rounded mounds of my firm tits. Had he wanted me for several years? He'd planned this, I
reflected. He'd planned to get me here alone and fuck me. Pinching and pulling on my elongated nipples, he increased his shafting rhythm as I swivelled my hips and pressed my swollen clitoris against the hardness of his thrusting cock. I could feel my cunt inflating and deflating as he fucked me. My lower stomach rising and falling, my long blonde hair cascading over my flushed face, I trembled uncontrollably as the birth of my orgasm stirred deep within my contracting womb. This was amazing, I thought happily. He'd actually planned to seduce me.

Releasing my firm breasts, he lifted my legs high in the air to gain deeper penetration of my young body. My knees pressing against the firm mounds of my heaving breasts, my feet resting on his shoulders, I rocked back and forth as his rock-hard cock shafted me. I could feel my outer sex lips bulging between my thighs, stretched wide apart by the sheer girth of his magnificent cock as he fucked me. This was the fourth to fuck me since Dave had left for Morocco, I mused. Or, had there been more? Derek, Barry, Keith, Sam . . . There'd been at least two other men behind the fence, I reflected. Had I been fucked by six men?

Reaching our orgasms, Sam and I gasped and writhed in our illicit union as my spasming cunt swallowed his fresh spunk. This was sheer heaven, I thought in my sexual frenzy. Six cocks had fucked my sex-hungry cunt. How many more would there be? I'd not had Rob heaving on top of me and spunking my hot cunt – yet. Or, had I? Had Rachel licked and sucked my clitoris to orgasm? Trying not to think about lesbian sex, I gazed at Sam, the sheer satisfaction depicted in his expression as he drained his balls.

My second orgasm erupting before the first had waned, I cried out in the grip of my adulterous
ecstasy. I didn't want another girl, I knew for sure as Sam pummelled my ripe cervix with his beautiful knob. Another girl could finger me and lick and suck me and make me come. But she could never fuck me senseless. I'd experienced lesbian sex, and that was the end of it. I didn't want another girl, I convinced myself as spunk streamed from my bloated vagina and coursed down to the sensitive ring of my anus. I didn't want the soft loving, the gentle feminine licking and kissing . . . Did I?

After finally slipping his deflating cock out of my sated vagina, Sam lowered my legs and watched as I squirmed and panted for breath in the aftermath of my incredible climax. Finally coming down from my sexual heaven, I noticed a photograph of Sam and Jane on the mantelpiece. The loving couple, I mused. The faithful, happy loving couple. I'd been faithful for four years. But, had I been happy?

Sam and I had fucked long and hard, and I enjoyed two massive orgasms. But, my sperm-flooded vagina contracting, my clitoris swelling, I'd not finished with him. Moving forward on the sofa, positioning my naked buttocks over the edge of the cushion, I demanded that he fuck me again. His beautiful cock stiffened and he slipped his purple knob between my spunk-dripping inner lips to impale me on it once more. How many times could he come? My young body again rocked with the beautiful shafting. How many times could I come?

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