Naked Lies (2 page)

"Come on!" he
coaxed me, turning back to the centrefold. "Let's see how your tits
compare. A sort of before and after!" he chuckled.

"Den,
I..."

"Just your
blouse and bra. It's not a lot to ask, is it?"

"Will you give
me the magazine if I do it?" I murmured, astonished that I was even
considering complying with his lewd demand.

"We'll
see."

"But you could
come here every day and insist that I..."

"I said, we'll
see."

Slowly
releasing the top button of my blouse, I moved my fingers down to
the next, my eyes transfixed on Den as I continued my enforced
undressing. Would he go once he'd seen my breasts? I wondered
fearfully, strangely aware of my favourite song playing on the
radio. The song would bring memories flooding back - not, as
before, sweet memories of my honeymoon but acrid hauntings of my
depraved neighbour ogling my naked breasts.

Apprehension
swamped me as I imagined baring my breasts, displaying my nipples.
Again, I thought of Mat, his suspicious mind, what he'd say if he
were to see the photographs. He'd always questioned me about other
men, whether I'd fancied so-and-so at a party or fantasized about
other men when we made love. He'd been going on about pornography
recently, the way girls demeaned themselves - he'd never believe
that the model wasn't me. As if an icy finger was running down my
spine, cold fear gripped me. Did I have a choice? No, I decided I
didn't. Blackmailers afford their victims no choice.

Pulling my blouse open, I slipped the garment off my
shoulders, revealing my straining lace bra. Images of Mat formed in
my racked mind as I placed my blouse on the table - his smiling
face, his immaculately groomed brown hair. He'd be back that
evening to kiss me, ask me how my day had been. What would I say?
What
could
I
say?

"Go on," Den
urged me, staring at the valley of my deep cleavage. "You're nearly
there." Nearly where? I wondered. Nearly showing my breasts, my
nipples? Nearly committing adultery, for God's sake.

Reaching
behind my back as I supported myself on my trembling legs, I
unhooked my bra. The silk cups falling away from my firm breasts,
my sensitive nipples stood erect, proud, from the darkening discs
of my areolae. Remorse engulfed me as I looked down at my breast
buds. What on earth was I doing? Hanging my bra over the back of
the chair, I stood before my neighbour as he rose to his feet, my
face flushing with embarrassment as he scrutinized my mammary
spheres, my brown milk teats. A solitary tear rolled down my
cheek.

"Nice, very
nice!" he praised me. "You have wonderful tits."

"May I dress
now?" I asked softly, my head hung in shame.

"No, not
yet."

"I've done as
you asked!" I returned, lifting my head and tossing my hair over my
shoulder defiantly. "What more do you want?" I knew what he wanted.
What all men want.

He grinned as
he focused his glinting eyes on my erect nipples, obviously
contemplating my question. I tried to produce more tears in the
futile hope that he'd feel some compassion, but they wouldn't come.
Desperately trying to find the inner strength to resist the fiend,
I found only weakness.

"Your nipples
are nice, long - suckable."

"No! Don't you
dare to..."

"Think of your
marriage, Jane."

I did think of
my marriage as Den cupped my breasts in his warm hands as if
weighing them, squeezing my globes, my nipples distending, pointing
accusingly towards his perilously close, lecherous countenance.
Living in the beautiful old country cottage my aunt had left me, I
had a loving husband who worked hard in London to support our
enviable lifestyle. With his and her BMW's, at least two holidays
abroad each year, an abundance of love and a warm sex life between
us, our marriage was good. After five years together, we had it
all... yet here I was destroying all we'd built! The sensations
permeating my firm breasts as Den tweaked my nipples, I winced as I
thought of my sex life with Mat.

Although there
was no swinging from chandeliers, no all-night sessions of burning
passion and desire, we enjoyed the closeness, the warmth of love
and friendship our lovemaking brought. Mat was the perfect
gentleman - considerate, unselfish, never overlooking my needs.
He'd take me to orgasm during foreplay, ensure that I derived
satisfaction when we made love. Could I face him again after this -
live with a lie? Could I live with myself, let alone Mat?

As Den sucked
my milk teat into his hot mouth, his teeth gently sinking into my
sensitive brown tissue, I jumped. "No!" I squealed, pulling away.
"That's not part of the deal!"

"Deal?" he
frowned, painfully pinching and twisting my nipples.

"You
said..."

"I told you to take your blouse and bra off, I didn't say
anything else. There was no
deal
, as you put it."

"But..."

"Does Mat suck
your nipples?"

"Piss off!" I
hissed, holding my hand to my head as confusion fogged my tormented
mind.

"Oh, don't be
like that! Doesn't he lick your clitoris to orgasm?"

His crude
words reverberating through the haze of my mind, I squeezed my eyes
shut as he again engulfed my nipple in his drooling mouth. His
zealous tongue snaked around my bud, teasing, tasting. Breathing in
his unfamiliar aftershave, I wondered what the hell I was doing
standing half-naked in my kitchen with my neighbour suckling my
naked breasts. How could I allow this blatant violation of my body?
Opening my eyes, looking down at his lips pressed against my
startled areola, I watched in disbelief as he sucked and mouthed on
my nipple.

It wouldn't
end there, I knew. His hands moving down to my smooth stomach,
tickling my warm flesh, he caressed my navel. Further, his fingers
descended, pressing against the softness of my sex mound through my
skirt. No, it wouldn't end there!

"That's
enough!" I cried as he slipped a finger between my skirt and my
stomach.

"Enough is
never enough," he murmured, my nipple slipping from his mouth as he
stood upright and gazed into my eyes, his strong, warm hands
clutching the gentle curves of my naked hips.

"Den,
please!"

"Please
what?"

"Please
go!"

"Already? I'll
tell you what, let's go through to the lounge and..."

"No!"

"Listen, you
can have the magazine. But I want you to pose for me first, like
you did for the photographer."

I hesitated.
"If I do, you'll give me the magazine and then leave?" I asked
shakily. I must have been insane!

"I
promise."

Leading him
through the hall, I knew that his promise was worthless. He was a
monster, an evil man, and he'd stop at nothing to have his wicked
way with me. As I stood meekly in the centre of the lounge, he sat
on the sofa, grinning, smirking, gazing greedily at my naked
breasts. I felt dirty, demeaned.

"Why are you
doing this?" I asked, aware of my wet nipples stiffening in the
cool air of the lounge.

"I was
unpacking a tea chest and the magazine dropped to the floor. I
thought I recognized the face and when I passed you in the street,
I knew it was you."

"So you
decided to blackmail me."

"Not
blackmail, Jane. We're just having some fun. Harmless fun while
Mat's at work."

Perhaps he
would give me the magazine after his fun, I pondered, naive though
the notion was. Harmless fun while Mat was at work? Catching his
gaze, I didn't think he was the sort of man to force himself upon
me. My next door neighbour... I couldn't envisage him raping me.
After all, he'd said that he couldn't force me to do anything.
Recalling a true life story I'd once read in a magazine, I
shuddered.

"How much do
you value your marriage?" he leered.

I folded my
arms across my quivering breasts. "What sort of question is
that?"

"A simple
question. What lengths will you go to in order to save your
marriage?"

The words fell
effortlessly. "I'll pose for you."

"How will you
pose for me?"

"I'll pose
like the magazine picture."

"Go on then,
pose for me. Just like you did for the photographer."

Stepping out
of my white heels, I tugged my short lycra skirt down my long legs,
revealing the triangular patch of red material covering my full sex
lips. Succumbing to blackmail was a grave mistake, I knew as I
kicked the garment aside. But I couldn't see that I had a choice.
If Mat were to see the magazine... It was a mistake I'd make only
once, I promised myself.

Den was weak,
pathetic in his male weakness, I reflected as I fiddled with my
suspender belt. He wasn't a blackmailer at heart - just in the
vicinity of his trousers. Most likely he couldn't help himself,
control his instinctual male desires. To appease the pitiful
creature I'd pose for him, turn my alluring naked body this way and
that - then serve him his marching orders.

There'd be
nothing he could do, I reasoned, other than show Mat the magazine.
But I felt that he wouldn't resort to that. He knew as well as me
that, once the pussy was out of the bag, the game would be over.
All the time Den had the incriminating photographs, he had a chance
to gawp at my naked body. Showing my husband would only serve to
wreck that chance. Somehow, I'd get my hands on the magazine and
destroy it.

But was I
destroying myself? I wondered as I unclipped my suspender belt and
reluctantly rolled my black stockings down my legs. Wearing only my
panties, a pang of guilt stabbed my conscience as I looked around
the lounge. The marital home. Mat's armchair. The coffee table
where he placed his glass of scotch every evening... I couldn't do
it, I decided. Couldn't bring myself to unveil the most intimate
part of my body before this virtual stranger. The room was watching
me, my adultery.

"Come on, show
me your cunt," Den ordered me crudely, a hint of urgency in his
dark voice as he noticed my hesitation. "I want to see where Mat
sticks his cock. Show me your juicy cunt."

"Den,
I..."

"Remember that
I know a hell of a lot about you, your past. You lived in
Shropshire until you were thirteen. You then moved to Dorset
and..."

"How do you
know all this?"

"That's my
secret. Now, show me your cunt."

The obscene word battering my swirling mind as I stood before
my neighbour, my stomach somersaulting, I knew I'd gone too far to
turn back. I'd crossed the bridge, transgressed the threshold of
choice. Picturing the photograph in the magazine, I imagined
sprawling out on the floor, my legs open, my femininity crudely
displayed. Mat had never used the word
cunt
.

Just this once
, the inner voice urged
me as I slipped my thumbs between the tight elastic of my panties
and my curvaceous hips.
Just this
once
. My trimmed blonde pubes coming into
view as I eased my panties down, I hung my head as shame and guilt
engulfed me.

"Keep going,"
Den prodded coarsely as he moved forward in his excitement on the
sofa. "That's it, pull your knickers down like a naughty little
girl and show me your cunt."

Taking a deep
breath, I lowered my panties to my knees and stood upright, my pink
sex crack clearly visible beneath my sparse pubes. My scant scarlet
shield dropping to my ankles, I kicked the garment aside, again
imagining posing for my lecherous spectator. The degradation, the
humiliation of lying on the floor with my legs wide open... I knew
I couldn't do it.

"Very nice!"
Den breathed, focusing his lustful eyes on my inner petals,
protruding alluringly from my moist sex valley. I winced, closing
my eyes as I sensed his gaze burning into my most intimate place.
Only Mat had ever seen me there, feasted his eyes on my vaginal
smile. But now? Now, like the magazine photographs, my once
sacrosanct temple was blatantly on display, crudely exhibited. Was
I a tart? I felt so.

"Stand with
your feet as wide apart as you can," Den ordered me, his prurient
gaze glued to my sex slit. Trembling, I parted my feet, knowing
that my secret valley was opening, my moist inner folds unfurling.
Humiliated as I sensed my lubricious juices bubbling between my
pussy lips, I prayed that he wouldn't take the sentient sex fluid
as a sign of arousal.

"Open your
cunt lips," he instructed me with no hint of compassion, his
arousal obvious by the massive bulge in his tight jeans. "I want to
see inside your cunt."

"Do you know
how you make me feel?" I asked shakily.

"Good?"

"Evil."

"Then be
evil!" he chuckled.

My fingers
trembled as I moved my hands to my lower stomach. Then, as if
suddenly waking from a dream, I realized what it was I was doing.
"Go on, pull your cunt lips wide apart and show me your cock hole,"
he breathed as I snatched my hands to my sides. "You don't want Mat
to discover your sordid past, do you?"

Through my
haze of horror I became aware of a car pulling up in the driveway.
Almost fainting in my fear, my iniquity, Den leapt up from the sofa
and dashed to the window. "Christ, it's Mat!" he cursed through
gritted teeth, throwing me a parting malevolent leer before dashing
from the room. I stood motionless in my horror, frozen to the spot
as the backdoor slammed shut and my blackmailer made his escape.
Mat's key turning in the front door lock, I was impelled to look
about me, at my skirt and stockings strewn across the lounge
floor.

"Jane!" Mat
called in his familiar homecoming, closing the front door.

"In here!" I
returned shakily, snatching up my clothes.