Lust Call (6 page)

‘Derek, about these emails.'

‘Let's not talk about emails, Sarah. The emails are fantasy, dreams. We're here together, this is no fantasy.'

‘I don't want this, Derek. You're a lovely man and I have to admit that I like you very much. But, this has got to stop.'

‘Didn't you enjoy yourself with me earlier?'

‘Yes, that's the trouble. But, this can't go anywhere. I'm happily married, and this can't go anywhere.'

‘Who said it was going anywhere?' Moving close to me, he brushed my long blonde hair away from my face and smiled. ‘It doesn't have to go anywhere, Sarah. What's wrong with keeping each other company now and then?'

‘I don't know,' I breathed as he stood before me and put his arms around me. His hands moved down, clutched the firm cheeks of my buttocks, and I felt my stomach somersault. ‘Derek, I don't want . . .'

Locking his lips to mine in a passionate kiss, he slipped his hands up the back of my dress and squeezed my naked buttocks. Confused in my desire, I knew that I was losing the battle between right and wrong. I didn't want to commit full-blown adultery, I was a happily married woman, I didn't want this . . . Leaving one hand on my buttock, he moved the other to my pussy and ran a finger up and down my wetting sex crack. My vagina contracted, my clitoris responded to his caress, I felt myself weakening. I needed to be held, I needed to come, but . . .

‘No,' I breathed as he slipped a finger between the wet petals of my inner lips and drove deep into my tightening vagina. As he massaged my inner flesh, inducing my sex milk to flow, I imagined Susie with another man. How could she cheat on her husband like that? The lies and deceit, marriage vows in ruins . . . I'd already committed adultery, I reflected. I'd opened my legs and allowed another man to lick and suck me to orgasm. I was no better than Susie.

The alcohol and my arousal blurring my mind, I was powerless to do anything as Derek walked me backwards to the sofa and sat me down. Kneeling before me and parting my legs, pushing my short dress up over my stomach, he kissed and licked the smooth flesh of my inner thighs. I felt dizzy, confused, aroused as never before as he moved up and ran his tongue over my swollen love lips. Allowing another man to lick me seemed easier the second time, I mused dreamily. But I still felt the guilt. What was Dave doing, I wondered as Derek's tongue slipped between my engorged inner lips and drove into my tightening vagina. What if he rang now? What would I do? What would I say? Lies, deceit, adultery.

Parting my sex lips wide with his fingertips, Derek moved up my gaping valley and sucked my exposed clitoris into his hot mouth. Closing my eyes, I trembled, clutched his head, breathed heavily, and relaxed completely as tremors of pure sexual bliss rolled through my contracting womb. There was no turning back now, I knew. I was powerless to battle against my feminine desires, too weak in my arousal to halt the adulterous act. Besides, it was too late.

Moving forward on the sofa and parting my thighs as wide as they would go, I pushed my yawning sex valley hard against his face as he repeatedly swept his
wet tongue over the sensitive tip of my clitoris. My heart racing, my breathing fast and shallow, I pulled my top up and exposed the firm mounds of my breasts to Derek's wide eyes. He reached up with one hand and tweaked each sensitive nipple in turn, sending quivers throughout my body as my orgasm neared.

My thoughts about Dave began to fade as Derek drove two fingers deep into the yearning cavern of my neglected vagina. All I could think about was my beautiful cunt, the incredible pleasure another man was bringing me, my imminent orgasm. No one would ever discover my adultery, I mused as my vaginal muscles tightened around his thrusting fingers. I wouldn't even tell Susie of my adulterous act. I could get away with it, I thought. Derek was a neighbour, so no one would think it odd if he came to my house now and then. Besides, he was an old man, so no one would ever suspect that we were having sex.

Lost in my arousal, I didn't realise what Derek was doing as he moved about. He slipped his fingers out of my hot pussy and, before I could open my eyes, he rammed the entire length of his huge cock deep into my sex-drenched cunt and impaled me fully on his solid organ. Staring at the outer lips of my vagina stretched tautly around the broad base of his cock, my clitoris forced out from its pink hood, I let out a gasp. I'd not wanted this, I thought apprehensively as he withdrew slowly and then rammed into me. This was adultery, full-blown adultery . . .

‘All right?' he whispered, holding my hips as he fucked me.

‘Derek, no . . .' I breathed, watching his pussy-slimed cock gliding in and out of my spasming vagina. ‘Derek, I . . .'

‘Just relax,' he said softly. ‘Relax and let yourself go.'

I didn't think that I'd be able to relax but, as my orgasm approached and his cock swelled, I found that I was drifting and swirling in clouds of lust. He was breathing heavily, letting out gasps with each thrust of his beautiful cock, and I knew that he was about to fill my hot vagina with spunk. There was no holding back, I had no thoughts about Dave or adultery . . . My eyes closed, my head lolling from side to side, I dug my fingernails into the sofa cushion and arched my back as my pleasure came.

My clitoris exploding in orgasm, I could feel his creamy sperm pumping deep into my contracting vagina as he fucked me. It had been years since I'd felt this way, since I'd been fucked properly, and I knew that I'd be seeing Derek regularly as his swinging balls battered my naked buttocks and his orgasming knob pummelled my ripe cervix. Adultery, lies, deceit . . . In the grip of a beautiful orgasm, such words meant nothing to me. My thoughts centred on my clitoris, my cunt, Derek's rock-hard cock . . . I couldn't live without real sex. I couldn't survive without regular orgasms. Could I survive without Dave?

Derek finally slowed his fucking-rhythm as his sperm-flow ceased and his cock began to deflate. I could hear the squelching of our orgasmic juices, our heavy breathing and gasping in the wake of our illicit fucking. Sperm running down between the rounded cheeks of my naked buttocks, my clitoris retreating beneath its pink hood, I lay quivering on the sofa in the aftermath of my illicit pleasure. I'd done it, I thought as the last ripples of sex left my clitoris and rippled throughout my trembling body. I'd been fucked by another man. I'd committed adultery.

The phone rang as Derek slipped his cock out of my sperm-flooded vagina and pulled his trousers up. He rose to his feet, his eyes darting between the phone and me, then he took my hand and pulled me up from the sofa. I couldn't answer the phone with him there. With a cocktail of sperm and girl-cream running down my inner thighs, my hands trembling, my breathing unsteady, I couldn't speak to my husband.

‘Was that all right?' Derek asked as the phone stopped ringing.

‘Yes,' I replied softly. ‘Derek, I can't do this . . .'

‘Don't say anything,' he interrupted me. ‘I know what you want to say, but don't say it. Live for the moment, Sarah. Don't start thinking and evaluating and . . . Live for the moment, OK?'

‘Yes, OK.'

‘I'll go now. That was probably your husband and I'm sure that he'll ring again, so I'll go now.'

‘Thank you,' I said stupidly, seeing him to the front door.

‘Thank
you
, Sarah. I might see you tomorrow, if that's OK?'

‘Er . . . Yes, I think so. Will you send me an email?'

‘I will if you want me to. Write the address down for me.'

‘You know the address.'

‘No, I don't.'

‘But . . . Derek, you've sent me several emails. You must have the address.'

‘I've never sent you an email, Sarah. As I said, give me the address and I'll . . .'

‘But, you're Brian,' I breathed.

‘Brian?' He chuckled and kissed my cheek. ‘You're confusing me with someone else.'

‘No, I . . .'

‘Sarah, I've never sent you an email. Look, I'd better get back before the wife gets home. I'll see you tomorrow.'

Staring at him as he walked along the path to the front gate, I thought that he must have been joking. He was Brian, my secret admirer, I was sure of it. He'd said that he'd emailed me and . . . No, he hadn't, I reflected. I'd talked about the emails and he must have thought that I'd meant the teenage girls he'd been in touch with. The stark reality of the situation hitting me as I closed the front door, I held my trembling hand to my head. If Derek wasn't the one who'd been watching me, sending me sexually explicit emails, then who had?

The telephone rang and I dashed into the lounge to answer it.

‘Hello,' I breathed.

‘Hi,' Dave said. ‘Well, I've arrived.'

‘Oh, er . . . Right,' I said shakily.

‘I rang earlier but you didn't answer.'

‘I've been in the garden. I didn't hear the phone.'

‘Is everything all right, Sarah?'

‘Yes, everything's fine. Is the hotel all right?'

‘It's great. I'll tell you what, it's bloody hot here.'

‘Yes, I suppose it would be. Will you be able to email me?'

‘Yes, if there's an internet connection here. I've got my laptop . . . Why do you want me to email you?'

‘Well, just to keep in touch.'

‘OK. Are you sure you're all right? You sound different.'

‘I'm a little tired, that's all.'

‘Have an early night.'

‘Yes, yes I think I will.'

‘I'll ring tomorrow.'

‘That would be nice.'

‘OK, love. Sleep well.'

‘Yes, and you.'

I replaced the receiver, flopped on to the sofa and cried. Tears streaming down my cheeks, sperm spewing from my adulterous vagina, I couldn't believe what I'd done. I'd been fucked by the old man over the road. I'd opened my legs and allowed him to lick me and fuck me and . . . Again recalling the boys I used to meet on the common, I thought that I'd left those sluttish days behind me. One afternoon, I'd had two boys. They'd taken turns to fuck me and spunk my tight little pussy. They'd sucked on my tits, fingered me, fucked me senseless and . . . Those dirty days were over, weren't they?

Clearing my head of thoughts of crude sex, I took a deep breath. If Derek wasn't the culprit then, who was? I'd fucked the wrong man, I reflected anxiously. Shit, I'd not intended to fuck any man. What the hell had I done? Reclining on the sofa, I decided not to check my emails. I didn't want to know, I didn't want to read the filthy words about shaving my pussy. Curling up into a ball, I just wanted to hide behind my eyelids and never wake up.

I WOKE TO
find myself in bed, although I had no recollection of climbing the stairs the previous evening. As sleep left me and memories of Derek filled my mind, I couldn't believe what I'd done. I'd fucked the old man from over the road and . . . Had Dave slept with some tart or other in his hotel room? He'd never betray me the way I'd betrayed him, I knew as I looked around the marital bedroom. His dressing gown was hanging on the back of the door, a pair of his trousers were folded over the chair. He was away earning money, and I'd betrayed him. I hauled myself out of bed and gazed out of the window. The sun was shining, the birds singing . . . And guilt was swamping me.

Apart from the guilt of my betrayal, I was worried silly over the identity of my secret admirer. The alcohol had left me and I felt refreshed after sleeping, making my thinking clearer. Whoever was spying on me could obviously see me when I was in the front garden. There were probably a dozen houses with a view of my garden, which narrowed things down a little. But there was also the question of my email address. No one could have guessed it, and I'd certainly not given it to anyone. But, someone knew what it was.

To make myself feel better, I showered and dressed in a miniskirt and blouse and then went down to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee. All I could think about was Derek and my adulterous act as I switched the computer on. I'd been stupid, I reflected dolefully. I'd got the wrong man, I'd opened my legs to Derek and . . . There was an email from Brian. Taking a deep breath, I opened it and started reading.

After deleting the email, I took my coffee out to the back garden and sat on a patio chair beneath the summer sun. The situation was ridiculous, I thought anxiously. Someone was watching me, spying on me, and I felt as though I was being hounded by a stalker. At least I was safe on the patio. The garden was surrounded by bushes and trees, so there was no way anyone could spy on me. Whoever it was could only see the front of the house, and they had to be watching me from a window. All I had to do was devise a plan to trap them and . . .

‘Morning, Sarah,' the man from next door called over the fence.

‘Hi, Barry,' I said, realising that he might be the culprit. He was in his forties and married, and had always been friendly. He could easily spy on me from an upstairs front window, I mused. ‘How are you?' I asked him, placing my coffee cup on the table and wandering over to the fence.

‘I'm fine. I have a couple of weeks off so I'm doing some DIY. It's too hot to be working inside, but Jilly wants the kitchen decorated.'

‘I've not seen her for a while, how is she?'

‘She's OK. Her mother isn't too good so she spends her days helping her out. What are you up to? Anything exciting?'

‘No, not really. Dave's on a photo shoot in Morocco, so I've been tidying up the front garden to keep myself busy. Looking at the weeds, I think I'll have a go at the back garden.'