Lust Call (22 page)

‘That's easy enough,' he said. ‘All they have to do is go through the gate at the end of the garden next door and slip through the bushes.'

‘Gate?' I echoed. ‘What gate?'

He pointed to Rob's garden. ‘At the end of the garden, next door. There's a gate, and it's not locked. I checked it out earlier.'

‘He'd have a hell of a job to get through the bushes.'

‘Not really,' he said, taking a gulp of beer and placing the can on the table. ‘I've been doing some snooping. Follow me, and I'll show you.'

Following him down the garden, I looked at the bushes he was pointing at. I couldn't see a way through, until he pulled a bush to one side. There was a massive gap, perfectly big enough for a man to slip through. But ginger hair? Who the hell had ginger hair? It seemed that, the more I discovered about my blackmailer, the less I knew about him. As Keith released the bush and walked to the end of the garden, I followed him. Again, moving the bushes to one side, he pointed to the hole in the fence.

‘He's obviously been spying through that hole,' he
said. ‘By the look of the wood, it's been made recently. ‘There, you see that sawdust on the ground?'

‘Yes, I see,' I breathed.

‘Block the hole up, Sarah. That's the first thing to do. And then block his entrance into your garden by putting a fence up behind those bushes. Once he realises that he can't see you or get into your garden, he'll go and find someone else to spy on. Why haven't you told your husband about this?'

‘Because . . . It's a long story.'

‘It's an intriguing story. Sarah, what we did in the woods . . . What I mean is . . . Was that a one-off, or do you want to see me again?'

‘I don't know,' I sighed, wandering back to the patio.

‘You obviously mistook me for someone else. Someone you hadn't met before. Putting two and two together, I reckon that you mistook me for the man who's been hanging about in the alley.'

‘No, I . . .'

‘Sarah, I'm not stupid. You almost dragged me into the woods this morning, and then you seduced me. You either do that with any man who happens to be passing by, which I doubt very much, or you thought that I was the man who'd been hanging about by the fence. If that's the case, why have sex with him?'

‘All right,' I sighed as we sat at the table. ‘I think it's time I talked to someone about this.'

Keith listened intently as I told him my story. He agreed that Sam was the most likely suspect, apart from the fact that he didn't have ginger hair. He suggested that someone could have worn a wig, but he ruled out Barry, Derek and Dave. Sam was still at the top of my list but, when I mentioned the girl, Keith frowned as he asked me to go on. I felt at ease
with him, and told him everything, every explicit detail. I said that I'd licked the girl and she'd licked me and I also admitted to enjoying the experience.

‘So, we're dealing with at least two men and a girl,' he finally said.

‘Yes, that's right.'

‘And they have your email address and phone number.'

‘Yes.'

‘This still points to Sam but, let's put him aside for a minute. Our man could easily have slipped into your house and got your email address and phone number.'

‘He's been into my house?' I breathed, holding my hand to my mouth.

‘You probably leave your back door open in this sort of weather. And your patio doors, for that matter. You might have been upstairs taking a shower or whatever. All he had to do was slip into your house and . . .'

‘God, to think that he might have been in the house while I was upstairs . . .'

‘I reckon that he'd been watching you for some time, fantasising and all that. Then, your husband went away. That was his chance to turn his fantasies into reality.'

‘Yes, I see that. But, who is he?'

‘I don't know, yet. In your quest to discover his identity, you went with one man after another. Including me, I'm happy to say.'

‘We will meet in the woods again,' I blurted out. ‘I . . . I like you very much, Keith.'

‘And I like you. You were amazing, Sarah. I couldn't believe my luck when you . . .'

‘What about your wife?' I cut in stupidly.

‘I'm not married.'

‘Oh, right.'

‘I suppose I never met the right girl.'

‘Thinking about it, I suppose I didn't meet the right man. What do you think this blackmailer will do? If he sends the photos to my husband . . .'

‘I don't think he'll do that,' he cut in. ‘He wants sex, and he'd ruin the whole thing by sending the photos to your husband. What I don't understand is, why bring another man along to have sex with you? And a girl. He blackmailed you, and he's getting what he wants. So, why share you with others?'

‘God knows,' I sighed. I knocked back my wine and refilled my glass. ‘What do you think I should do?'

He shook his head and raised his eyebrows. ‘I suppose . . .' he began, rubbing his chin. ‘I suppose the first thing to do is stop seeing all these men. I'm not including myself, of course.'

‘OK. Then, what?'

‘You won't catch this man by hiding in the alley way. I reckon he's far too clever to get caught like that. Let me think about this. I'll do some more snooping around tomorrow and let you know if I discover anything. Er . . . What time is your husband due home?'

‘Eleven, at the earliest.'

‘Oh, right. Would you mind if I grabbed another beer from the fridge?'

‘Not at all. Help yourself.'

I felt a lot better having talked to Keith about my troubles. But I wasn't too keen on his idea of my not seeing men any more. Perhaps he wanted me all to himself, I reflected, recalling our crude fucking in the woods. It was strange to think that I hadn't known him before we'd bumped into each other in the alley that morning. I'd seen him in the street now and then,
but we'd only exchanged the odd comment in passing. And, within minutes of meeting in the alley, we'd known each other intimately.

As he sat opposite me and opened his can of beer, I wondered whether to have sex with him. My vagina was already brimming with Sam's spunk, and I desperately needed a shower. Perhaps I'd give him a nice long blowjob, I mused as my clitoris swelled expectantly. He was extremely good looking, I thought as he smiled at me. And he was a damned good fuck. Living only a few doors away, I'd be able to have sex regularly with him.

‘What do you do for a living?' I asked him.

‘Nothing exciting,' he replied, chuckling. ‘I'm an accountant.'

‘Oh, right.'

‘I work from home, which is nice. The trouble is, during the summer months, it's rather tempting to forget about work and go out into the garden. You'll have to come round and see my place. Maybe, if you get the opportunity, you could stay the night.'

‘I don't do indoor sex,' I said with a giggle. ‘I'm an outdoor girl.'

‘Even in the winter?'

‘Yes, why not?'

‘It's summer now, so . . .'

‘Let's go down to the end of the garden,' I suggested, and left my chair to wander across the lawn.

He followed me down the garden to the old apple tree like an obedient dog. In a way, I thought that it was a shame that he wasn't married. I rather liked the idea of taking another woman's man, sucking a cock that belonged to another woman. God, I thought, recalling Jane's outburst, I'd taken her man, and had got caught. But I'd contend with Jane and her
problems in the morning. For now, I had Keith to deal with.

Ordering him to kneel before me, I lifted my short dress up and displayed my wet panties to his grinning eyes. He needed training, I decided, stepping back as he reached out to pull my panties down. He was to become my sex slave, forever at my beck and call. I might even get him to do my housework, I mused, imagining him wearing an apron. As he looked up at me with expectation reflected in the dark pools of his eyes, I gave him his first instruction.

‘Sniff my panties,' I said, stepping forward. ‘Press your face into my wet panties and sniff them.'

Complying, he pushed his face into the swell of my tight panties and breathed in deeply. I felt my clitoris swell and my juices decant as he clutched my buttocks and pulled me closer. Ordering him to lick and suck on the wet crotch of my panties, I let out a rush of breath as he nibbled the hairless flesh of my outer lips through the tight material. My sex slave, I again mused, imagining him attending my most intimate and crude feminine needs whenever I snapped my fingers.

Stepping back, I turned and ordered him to lick my anal valley through my tight panties. I could feel his hot breath as he complied. Pushing his face hard against my buttocks, breathing in my scent, he wet the tight material of my panties with his saliva as I trembled and breathed heavily in my soaring arousal. Unable to control myself, I reached behind my back and lowered my panties.

‘Lick my bum hole,' I breathed huskily.

His wet tongue delved into my anal crease, lapping at the sensitive brown tissue surrounding my anus, and he pushed the tip of his tongue into my tight rectal duct. Gasping, quivering as the heavenly sensations rippled through my pelvis, I felt dizzy with
crude sex as he worked deftly between the rounded cheeks of my firm buttocks. Parting my naked buttocks wide, repeatedly running his wet tongue up my yawning valley, he took me to incredible heights of arousal.

I could wait no longer for his magnificent cock, so I pushed him away and dropped to my knees to rest my weight on my hands. He licked my tight arsehole again, wetting me there, sending quivers through my contracting womb as he lapped at my secret hole. I needed his cock, his spunk, and ordered him to scoop out my vaginal cream and lubricate my anus.

‘Now fuck my arse,' I breathed in my sexual frenzy.

‘God,' he gasped, obviously unable to believe what I'd said.

‘Do it, Keith. Fuck my arse.'

The feel of his swollen knob pressing hard against my anal ring blew my mind, and I let out a rush of breath as his ripe plum entered the tight duct of my rectum. He drove slowly into the very core of my trembling body, his knob journeying along my rectal tube and finally settling deep within the dank heat of my bowels. The stretching and filling sensations were amazing, and my fantasy again emerged from the dark depths of my mind.

Two cocks fucking my sex holes, I mused, imagining one solid member shafting my hot vagina and the other fucking my tight arse. And a third rock-hard organ fucking my spunk-thirsty mouth, I thought, losing myself in my debauched dream-world. Would my fantasy ever see the light of day, I wondered as Keith rocked his hips and began his fucking motions. Fucked in the woods by three men? Would I ever experience such a beautifully depraved act?

My face pressing on the soft grass, my young body rocking back and forth, I listened to the squelching
sounds of sex as Keith repeatedly drove his bulbous knob deep into the heat of my bowels. With his swinging balls battering the hairless lips of my vagina and his lower stomach slapping my rounded buttocks, he grabbed my hips and increased his fucking rhythm. It felt as though his massive cock was riving deep into my stomach as I jutted out my bottom to allow him deeper penetration of my rectal tube. Desperate for an orgasm as I gasped and writhed, I ordered him to massage my clitoris and finger my cunt.

‘You're a filthy slut,' he said, ramming at least two fingers deep into the wet heat of my tight cunt.

‘Yes, yes,' I breathed, lost in my arousal.

‘You're a cock-hungry whore.'

‘I'm a filthy slut,' I murmured, close to my climax. ‘I'm a dirty whore, a nymphomaniac, a slag . . .'

‘Here it comes,' he announced, fucking my arse harder. ‘I'm going to spunk your dirty little arse.'

His sperm jetting, lubricating his pistoning cock within my anal cylinder, I shuddered and cried out as he slipped his fingers out of my hot cunt and massaged the solid nub of my pulsating clitoris. Again and again, tremors of crude sex rolled throughout my abused body, shaking me to the very core as I listened to the squelching sounds of fresh spunk. This was far better than using the hole in the fence, I reflected. This was real anal sex, crude arse sex . . . And I wanted more.

‘Sarah.' Dave's voice emanated from the house. ‘Sarah, I'm home.'

‘Christ,' Keith gasped, yanking his spent cock out on my inflamed anal duct and leaping to his feet.

‘Why the hell is he early?' I breathed, clambering to my feet and tugging my panties up. ‘He said he wouldn't be back until . . .'

‘I'll see you tomorrow,' Keith whispered, making his escape through the bushes into Rob's garden.

Breathing deeply, trying to compose myself, I ran my fingers through my tousled blonde hair and brushed the grass off my dress. Spunk oozing from my anal eye and trickling down my inner thighs, my heart banging hard against my chest, I walked back to the patio and noticed Keith's beer can on the table. I threw the can into the bushes just as Dave emerged from the kitchen, picked up my wine and smiled.

‘You're early,' I said, sitting at the table.

‘It didn't take as long as I'd thought,' he replied, frowning at me as he opened a can of beer. ‘Are you all right, Sarah? You look very flushed.'

‘I'm hot, that's all. I've had a busy day. Housework, shopping, washing and ironing . . . Have you eaten?'

‘Yes, I grabbed a burger while I was out. Who's been at my beers this time? There were six in the fridge, now there are only four.'

‘That was me, sorry.'

‘No, no it's OK.'

‘I think I'll take a shower,' I said, knocking back my wine. ‘I'm tired so I'm going to have an early night.'

‘I have some paperwork to do so I'll join you later.'

Climbing the stairs with spunk bubbling from my sore bottom-hole, I turned my thoughts to Jane. What the hell was I going to say to her? If she told Dave about my sluttish behaviour . . . Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day, I knew as I stepped into the shower. Would tomorrow bring threats of divorce?