Lust Call (4 page)

I'D NOT SWITCHED
my computer on for two days because I couldn't trust myself to delete the emails without reading them. I had no willpower, Dave was still quiet, and my arousal had reached frightening heights. I'd refrained from masturbating for fear of imagining sucking on Derek's cock. I'd not gone out to the front garden and had kept well away from my bedroom window. But my intrigue and arousal were powerful, and I was losing the battle. Finally I switched on the computer and read the email from Brian.

My hands trembling, I grabbed the mouse but couldn't bring myself to delete the email. I'd vowed to stop the game, I reflected. I should delete the email and get on with my life but . . . My panties wetting with my sex milk, my clitoris calling urgently for my
intimate caress, I realised just how weak I was in my arousal. I tried to fight, tried to think of Dave and my marriage . . . And I finally clicked the reply button.

Sending the email, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was sure that he'd contact me again, but I'd made it perfectly clear that I didn't want to know. He'd give up, eventually. He'd find some other girl to play his sex games with and leave me in peace. If he didn't, then I'd change my email address and that would be the end of the affair. Affair, I mused guiltily. Had I had a cyber affair? This was crazy, I thought as I went into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. I'd not had an affair, I'd not committed adultery – and yet I felt as guilty as hell.

I rang Susie for a chat, but she was out. I drank more coffee and paced the lounge floor. I'd neglected the housework and forgotten about the shopping I'd planned to do that morning. My clitoris was swollen, my panties wet, my hair dishevelled . . . I was a mess. Finally I sat at my computer and checked the emails. There was one from Brian. I was about to delete it, but I just wanted to make sure that he'd got the message and had agreed to leave me alone.

Without thinking, I tugged my skirt up and slipped my hand down the front of my panties. My clitoris was hard, my cunt wet with desire . . . I left the desk and again paced the floor. Why couldn't I simply delete the email and get on with my life? I felt as though this man was standing on my shadow and I couldn't move away. He had me trapped and . . . I'd trapped myself, I mused, returning to the desk. I had to admit that I enjoyed the emails, the dirty talk and the excitement. But I couldn't go on like this. One way or another, I had to put an end to the fantasy.

I grabbed my keys, closed the front door behind me and walked briskly across the road to Derek's
house. Ringing the bell, I wondered what to say to him. Should I threaten to tell his wife unless he leaves me alone? There'd be no need to threaten him with the police, but I had to make it clear that I wanted him to stop pestering me. Ringing the bell several times, I reckoned that he was in hiding. He was probably spying at me from his bedroom window, I thought as I went back to my house. He couldn't hide for ever. I'd catch him in the street at some time or other, and confront him.

Checking my emails, I felt anger welling from the pit of my stomach as I noticed yet another one from Brian. He had a bloody nerve, I thought as I read his crude words.
Is your cunt hot and wet and in need of a good fingering?
Reading on, I realised that my anger was fading and my arousal soaring.
It's a very warm day so why don't you take your panties off? It would really turn me on to think that you're walking around naked beneath your miniskirt. You must be feeling really horny so why don't you grab a banana and give your tight cunt a fruity fucking for me?

Sighing, I went into the kitchen and took a bottle of white wine from the fridge. I gulped down a tumblerful and tried to relax. I should have been shopping and doing the housework and . . . Refilling my glass, I felt a little easier. I slipped my panties off and went into the back garden and sat on a patio chair. This was only a game, I thought, chuckling inwardly. Derek was getting his kicks from emailing me and I was . . . I was enjoying it, I had to admit. . . .
grab a banana and give your tight cunt a fruity fucking
.

‘Hi,' Dave called from the house.

‘Oh, er . . . Out here,' I replied, wondering why he was home.

‘Wine?' he breathed, joining me on the patio. ‘It's a bit early to start drinking, isn't it?'

‘Only one glass,' I lied. ‘Diluted with lemonade. So, how come you're home?'

‘I'm off to Morocco this afternoon. Short notice, I know. But I have no choice.'

‘This afternoon? Well . . . I'd better help you pack.'

‘No, it's OK. I'll just stuff a few things into a bag.'

‘Oh, right. This is all rather sudden. Before you go . . . As you'll be away for a while, how about making love?'

‘I can't, Sarah. There's no time to . . .'

‘Just quickly,' I persisted. ‘Here, on the patio.'

‘Don't be ridiculous,' he returned with a chuckle. ‘I'll grab a few things and get away. I've got my kit in the car so . . . I'll ring you from the hotel this evening, OK?'

‘OK,' I sighed as he went back into the house.

He called out before leaving, but I didn't go and see him off. I was feeling as horny as hell, and very angry. If he didn't want to fuck me, he could have at least kissed me goodbye, I reflected dolefully. I refilled my glass, sat at the computer and checked my emails. Disappointingly, there was nothing new from Brian. A typical man, I thought. When I needed him, he wasn't there. It wasn't that I needed him physically, but I did need to read more of his dirty words. Shit, I thought, deciding to reply to his last email. I
did
need him physically.

The doorbell rang. I answered it and was amazed to find Derek hovering on the frontstep. ‘Hi,' I said, my head spinning with the wine. ‘Come in.'

‘I just saw your husband,' he said, closing the door and following me into the lounge. ‘He said he's going away for a few days so I thought . . .'

‘I know what you thought, Derek.'

‘Do you?'

‘Yes, I do.' Plonking myself on the sofa as he sat in the armchair opposite, I smiled. ‘I'm a married woman, Derek,' I began. ‘I know that this is fun and . . .'

‘I love a little fun,' he cut in, gazing up my skirt as I inadvertently parted my thighs. ‘Wow, no panties. I say, you really are a horny little angel.'

‘Derek, I . . . I mean . . .' I stammered, pressing my thighs together. ‘Derek, I . . .'

‘There's no need to explain,' he said with a chuckle. ‘I would imagine that a lot of girls don't wear panties in the summer.'

‘Derek, listen to me. This game we've been playing. Don't get me wrong, I find you very attractive and . . .'

‘And I find you very attractive. It's been a long time since I've looked up a girl's skirt to find that she's not wearing panties. If I were your husband, I'd . . .'

‘Derek, you're not my husband. Besides, you have a wife. These emails you've been sending. I know they're exciting and I have to admit that I . . .'

‘Are you excited now?'

‘To be honest, yes, I am. All this stuff about not wearing panties and . . . It's turned me on. But, I'm a married woman.'

‘And your husband is away. Make an old man happy, Sarah. Allow me to make you happy, and you'll make me happy.'

‘Derek, I . . . Would you like a glass of wine?'

‘No, it's too early for me.'

‘I think I'll have one,' I said, leaving the sofa. I grabbed my glass and the bottle and returned to the lounge. ‘The thing is . . .' I began, filling the glass.

‘The thing is, you're all alone for a few days, and I'm here to make you happy.'

‘Derek, you're not listening to me.'

‘I'm listening to your innermost thoughts, Sarah. You might think me a silly old sod, but I know what a girl wants, what a girl needs. Husbands don't always give their wives what they need, they don't understand their desires. When did you last relax and allow a man to suck you to orgasm?'

‘I . . . I don't know.'

‘You don't know because you can't remember.'

Knocking back my wine, I knew that he was right. But, as desperate as I was, I couldn't allow him to lick my pussy and suck my clitoris to orgasm. My husband had only just left and . . . Why the hell hadn't Dave satisfied me? The wine going to my head, I felt disorientated as I refilled my glass. Dave had annoyed me, Derek wanted to suck my clitoris, and the wine was affecting me. If I lost my inhibitions and allowed Derek to bring me to orgasm, I knew that I'd regret it. I had to be strong, I thought as he left the armchair and knelt at my feet.

Easing my knees apart, Derek kissed my inner thighs. I had to be strong. I could feel his hot breath against my skin as he moved dangerously close to my
pussy. I felt dizzy, aroused, guilty . . . Parting my feet, he tugged my skirt up over my stomach and gazed at the blonde fleece veiling my sex crack. What the hell was I doing, I wondered apprehensively as he kissed the swollen lips of my vagina. I had to stop him, I had to be strong.

His wet tongue running up and down my opening sex crack, flicking the sensitive tip of my erect clitoris, he eased my thighs wide apart and pressed his lips hard against my engorged inner lips. I could hear him breathing in my scent, I could feel his tongue licking me, teasing me . . . As my clitoris sank into his hot mouth, I let out a gasp of pleasure and reclined on the sofa, my eyes closed. The marital sofa, I thought dreamily, guiltily. I had to be strong, but it was too late. I'd weakened, given into my feminine desires . . . And committed adultery.

‘Derek, no,' I breathed as he drove a finger deep into the hot sheath of my very wet vagina. He ignored me, massaging my inner flesh and sucking on my clitoris as I writhed and gasped on the sofa. ‘Please . . .' I again breathed as my womb contracted and my pussy milk flowed from my contracting vaginal sheath. This was adultery, I shouldn't be doing this, my friends wouldn't do this, they wouldn't cheat on their husbands, I should have been strong . . . I'd have to lie to Dave. I'd never lied to my husband, never been untruthful about where I'd been or what I'd been doing. I'd have to lie to him.

Licking, slurping, sucking, Derek took me higher, closer to my adulterous orgasm. This was wrong, but . . . My womb contracted, my nipples became erect, and my whole body was glowing, alive with sex. Losing myself in my arousal, I quivered uncontrollably as he repeatedly swept his tongue over the sensitive tip of my pleasure bud and massaged the hot
inner flesh of my adulterous vagina. I couldn't think straight, I had no control over my actions. More fingers penetrated my tight pussy, stretching my sex sheath open to capacity and inducing my lubricating milk to spew over his hand.

It had been so long since I'd enjoyed the intimate attention of boys on the common, I reflected. I hadn't realised what I'd been missing until now. But, I wasn't a whore. This was a fantasy, I tried to delude myself. This was a dark dream, a secret dream that would never emerge from the dark into the light of day. I'd wake up in my bed and recover from a self-induced orgasm and . . . Derek breathed words of sex as he sucked and licked between my swollen vaginal lips.
Beautiful pussy, hot, wet. A horny little angel, heaven-sent
. . . I tried not to listen. This was a dream, the words were in my head.

‘I'm coming,' I finally announced involuntarily. Arching my back, digging my fingernails into the sofa cushion, I let out a cry of satisfaction as my orgasm exploded within the pulsating nub of my clitoris. I'd done it, I thought as Derek expertly sustained my orgasm. I'd come in another man's mouth, I'd committed adultery, I was a whore, a slut, a cheating wife . . . I couldn't allow him to fuck me. Shaking uncontrollably as my orgasm peaked, I knew that I couldn't allow another man to fuck me. My climax shaking me to the core, I again cried out as he worked deftly between the splayed lips of my pussy.