Lust Call (10 page)

Easing my soaked panties down my long legs, Barry parted the swollen lips of my hairless pussy and massaged the solid nub of my sensitive clitoris with his fingertips. The sun warming me, I sprawled out on
the grass, stretching my limbs and opening my legs wide, offering my half-naked body to another man. Once again, I felt free and alive with sex. But, this time, I didn't feel the guilt. I was beginning to convince myself that Dave was screwing around behind my back. Susie had suggested that he was having fun with other women and Barry had said that Dave would have put it about. Dave had gone away and neglected me, so why the hell should I feel guilty?

Barry moved down and kissed the hairless lips of my pussy. His tongue licking my wet crack, his hot breath against my naked flesh, he knew exactly how to please a girl. I gasped and writhed on the lawn as my clitoris responded to his wet tongue and my juices of desire flowed from my opening vaginal entrance. Dave, adultery, emails, people spying on me . . . Nothing mattered as I neared my orgasm. I needed sex, hard cold sex. I needed to be fucked and spunked on the lawn. And that's what I was going to get.

Again recalling my time with boys on the common, I grinned as I thought about one particular incident. Two boys had asked me to have sex with them after college one summer afternoon. I'd met them behind the bushes, as arranged, and allowed them to strip me naked. I was feeling as horny as hell, really dirty, and I wanted more than just a quick fuck or two. Positioning myself on all fours, I told one boy to kneel before me and the other to kneel behind me.

Sucking on one beautiful cock while another fucked me from behind had been an incredible experience. I'd thought I'd found the ultimate in sexual satisfaction as sperm jetted into my mouth and my sweet little pussy. A double spunking, one of the boys had said as they'd swapped places. I staggered home that afternoon with rivers of sex milk streaming down my inner thighs and the taste of spunk lingering
on my tongue. And I'd vowed never to end up with one boy. Why had I married, I mused as Barry worked expertly on my engorged clitoris. Had I thought that I'd found love?

Arching my back and clinging to tufts of grass, I cried out as my orgasm exploded. I could feel my pussy lips swelling, my clitoris throbbing and my orgasmic milk gushing from my contracting vagina. Stretching my hairless lips wide apart, he ran his tongue up and down my gaping valley. From my pulsating clitoris to my milk-spewing sex hole, he repeatedly licked and slurped as I writhed and whimpered beneath the summer sun. My head lolling from side to side, my long blonde hair trailing across my flushed face, I thought that my pleasure would never end as my orgasm strengthened. Again, I thought how good Barry was as he thrust at least two fingers deep into my spasming vaginal cavern and massaged my inner flesh. If only Dave had taken more of an interest in my sexual needs.

My orgasm finally beginning to fade, I concealed a grin as Barry positioned himself on top of me and stabbed at my vaginal hole with his bulbous knob. Recalling the two boys, I wondered whether Derek and Barry would like to share my young body. Two cocks fucking me, one spunking my mouth and the other spunking my cervix . . . My sex sheath opening to accommodate Barry's solid shaft as he drove into me, I felt my lower stomach rise. This was wrong, it was adultery, but I didn't care. I needed hard sex, I needed to be wanted. My half-naked body rocking gently back and forth as Barry fucked me, I knew that I'd need this even when Dave was home. Did I need two men at once?

The solid nub of my sensitive clitoris massaged by Barry's wet shaft, I reached another beautiful orgasm
as he gasped and pumped out his fresh spunk. Resting his weight on his hands, he rocked his hips slowly, repeatedly driving his throbbing knob deep into my tight vagina as I squirmed and whimpered beneath him. I could hear the squelching, sucking sounds of sex as he fucked me and sustained my climax. The meeting of naked flesh, the squelching of sex juices . . . I lost myself in my pleasure as my orgasm rocked my young body to the core.

My vagina filling with creamy sperm and finally overflowing, my orgasm beginning to recede, I drifted slowly back to reality and opened my eyes as Barry made his last thrusts. I'd been so desperate for sex and the relief of orgasm that I'd forgotten about Dave and my marriage. But, now, as Barry withdrew his deflating cock from my sperm-flooded pussy, thoughts of my adulterous act returned. I could hear the phone ringing as Barry climbed to his feet and pulled his shorts up. Was Dave checking up on me? Sitting upright as Barry smiled at me, I was surprised as he slipped into the bushes and disappeared. Didn't he want to talk? Was that it? A quick fuck, and then nothing?

Wandering back to my house with sperm streaming down my inner thighs, I began to feel despondent. I was giving my body away to men, opening my legs to men and . . . I didn't know what the hell I was doing. I'd set out to discover the identity of my secret admirer, and had fucked two men in the process. Once a slut always a slut, I reflected, again recalling the two boys on the common. One of the lads had asked me for anal sex, but I'd declined. I should have agreed, I thought, imagining a cock shafting my tight little bottom-hole. One rock-hard cock fucking my cunt and another fucking my arsehole? The phone started ringing again, breaking my reverie. It was
Dave, I was sure as I went into the lounge and lifted the receiver.

‘Sarah, where have you been?' he whined.

‘Shopping,' I lied. ‘I've just got back.'

‘You're never there when I phone. Anyway, I'm hoping to be back tomorrow.'

‘Oh, er . . . That's good.'

‘You don't sound too pleased.'

‘Of course I'm pleased, Dave. Look, I'd better put the shopping away. Ring me this evening.'

‘OK, I will. I should know one way or the other by then. Hopefully, I'll catch an early flight in the morning.'

‘That's great. I'll talk to you later.'

‘OK, bye.'

I wandered back to the kitchen and gazed out of the window. I was going to have to get my act together. The old apple tree held secrets, I mused. Masturbation, fucking . . . I was going to have to sort myself out before Dave got home. As sperm oozed between my engorged inner lips, I realised that I didn't have my panties on. Imagining Dave finding my panties on the lawn beneath the apple tree, I went down the garden to find them. I'd have difficulty explaining my shaved pussy, let alone why my panties were down the garden. Not again, I thought, wondering where they were as I looked around. Barry must have taken them. He obviously had a thing about my wet panties.

I returned to the house and made myself a cup of coffee. I'd make a new start, I thought, deciding to clean the house. Once Dave was home, I'd make a fresh start and forget about Derek and Barry. I took my coffee into the dining room and checked my emails. I was going to have to change my email address, I thought, opening yet another one from Brian.

Photos? I wondered when Barry had taken them. I'd not seen him with a camera. Opening the attachment, I stared in horror at the shot of Barry fucking me. Who the hell had taken the photo? The picture was perfectly clear. Although Barry's head was turned away from the camera, there was no mistaking my identity. My heart racing as I gazed at the evidence of my adultery, I imagined Dave finding the photograph. Shit, I thought, realising that this had got completely out of hand. Scrutinising the photo, I could see that it had been taken from the end of the garden. Someone must have been hiding behind the shed or . . . I dashed through the kitchen and headed down the garden.

‘You want some more?' Barry asked me, emerging from the bushes. ‘You're a horny little . . .'

‘Did you get someone to take photographs?' I asked him

‘What?'

‘Of you and me. The email you just sent me . . .'

‘I haven't emailed you,' he cut in. ‘What are you talking about?'

‘This is no time for games, Barry. You've been emailing me, you've taken my panties . . . And you got someone to take photographs of us.'

‘Sarah, I don't know your email address. And I have not taken your panties or photographs. What the hell are you on about?'

‘Someone has just sent me an email, with a picture attached.'

‘And?'

‘It's a picture of you and me, fucking on the lawn.'

‘What? Are you sure?'

‘Of course I'm fucking sure,' I returned, holding my hand to my spinning head.

‘Who the hell . . .'

‘I don't know who took it. But they must have been hiding behind the shed.'

‘For fuck's sake,' he breathed, looking behind the shed. ‘If Jilly finds out . . .'

‘Or Dave,' I said, joining him behind the shed. ‘Look, the long grass has been trampled.'

‘Someone's definitely been here, but who? And how the hell did they get here? There's no way into your garden.'

‘They might have come in through the bushes,' I proffered. ‘From your garden.'

‘How the hell . . . Have you no idea who it is?'

‘Someone has been spying on me, but I don't know who. I thought it was you, Barry.'

‘Me? Why the fuck would I spy on you?'

‘I thought . . . It doesn't matter. Dave will be back tomorrow. And someone has photos of us.'

‘Christ, Sarah. What the hell do we do?'

‘I don't know.'

‘If Jilly finds out . . . I'll take a look around my garden and find out how they got in.'

‘Perhaps we can trap him,' I breathed. ‘If we meet here again this evening, he might . . .'

‘Good idea. Have you answered the email?'

‘No, I was going to delete it.'

‘Answer it. Say that you'll be here again this evening. Play into his hands, OK?'

‘Yes, yes I will.'

‘Depending on what Jilly's doing this evening, I'll meet you here at seven.'

As Barry went back to his garden, I gazed at the trampled grass. There was no way into my garden, I thought, looking up at the high bushes running along the back fence. There was an alleyway running behind the hedge, but there was no way anyone could get into the garden. I wasn't so bothered about how they'd got in. I wanted to know who the hell it was. Wandering back to the house, I knew that I was in real trouble as a dreadful word echoed around my mind. Blackmail.

There was only one thing to do, I thought as I sat at the computer desk. Trap the bastard that evening. Hopefully, he'd not seen or heard Barry and me behind the shed. There again, he'd be wary now that he'd sent me the photograph. Did he intend to blackmail me? Did he want sex in return for his silence? What had started out as a game was now blackmail. I had to word my email carefully.

Clicking the send button, I wondered whether he'd risk hiding behind the shed again. He must have realised that I'd worked out where he'd been hiding with his camera. Unless he thought me completely stupid. If my plan didn't work and I received blackmail threats . . . I'd just have to cross that bridge when I came to it. At least I had Barry with me, I reflected. He wanted to catch this bastard as much as I did.

I checked my emails a dozen times throughout the afternoon, but there was no word from Brian. Becoming increasingly anxious as the time neared seven, I hoped that Dave would phone before I met Barry down the garden. Knowing my luck, he'd ring when I was fucking Barry and . . . God, I thought, holding my hand to my mouth. I was going to have to have sex with Barry again. I was being sucked deeper into the mire.

Feeling incredibly nervous as I wandered down the garden just before seven, I sat on the grass beneath the apple tree. I had to appear to be relaxed, I knew as I rested my back against the tree. Facing the bushes in Barry's garden, I pulled my short skirt up just enough to expose my hairless pussy crack. Was my voyeur there, I wondered, watching the shed from the corner of my eye. He must have realised that he'd be taking a huge risk if he was hiding behind the shed with his camera.

‘Hi, gorgeous,' Barry said, his eyes darting between my sex crack and the shed as he emerged from the bushes.

‘Hi,' I breathed, pressing my thighs together. Thinking that we were being overheard, I didn't know what to say. ‘How's Jilly?' I finally asked him.

‘She's not back from her mother's yet. She'll be very late, with any luck. Er . . . Anything going on?'

‘No, nothing.'

Wandering around the garden with his hands in his shorts pockets, he tentatively glanced behind the shed. ‘Nothing at all,' he sighed. ‘There's no way he can slip behind the shed now that we're here. I've checked my garden, and there's no way in.'

‘I don't understand it,' I said as he stood before me. ‘He must have come in through your garden.'

‘Unless he climbed over the fence from the
alleyway, I don't see how he could have got in. Besides, the fence is in full view from the kitchen where I've been working.'

‘Do you think it might have been Jilly?'

‘Jill? God, no. She wouldn't have hidden and taken photographs of us, she'd have killed me. What about Dave? Do you reckon that he might . . .'

‘Dave's in Morocco.'

‘Is he?'

‘Yes he . . . At least, that's where he says he is. Dave wouldn't lie about going to Morocco and then sneak around behind the shed.'