Naked Lies (15 page)

In bed, I
pulled the quilt over my head, hiding from the cruel world. But I
knew I couldn't hide from myself. I'd run away from Den, from
Lisa... From Mat? As sleep began to engulf me, I again thought
about a holiday on a Greek island. The sun, the beach... I wanted
to dream about an idyllic holiday, not crude sex. Images of Lisa's
open cunt loomed in my mind. I couldn't choose my dreams, but I
could choose my way of life.

Mat seemed
different during breakfast. He was quieter than usual, watching me
over the top of his newspaper as I sipped my coffee. He didn't even
mention the computer he'd been to look at the night before. Trying
to appear normal, not noticing his strange mood, I busied myself,
making toast and chatting about the weather.

"How come you
never wear a dressing gown now?" he asked suddenly, folding the
paper.

"I prefer to
dress before coming downstairs," I replied.

"Or come down
naked. You always wore your gown in the mornings."

"I don't any
more."

"Several
things seem to have changed recently. No dressing gown, this
exercising business, you naked whenever I come home..."

"I'm not
always naked when you come home!" I giggled. "A couple of times I
was naked, that was all."

"You were in a
strange mood last night. Sitting alone in the lounge when we had
guests, and then going out."

"I had to see
Carole, it couldn't be helped."

"You seem
different, Jane."

"I don't know
why you think that, I'm still the old me."

"Well, I'd
better be going. Don't forget we're going to Den's this
evening."

"How could I
forget?"

"What do you
mean?"

"Nothing. I'll
see you this evening."

Watching Mat's
Audi disappear up the road, I decided to ring Carole. She'd offered
to come round and talk, and I was feeling increasingly guilty for
not answering the door to her. She deserved an explanation. Did I
have an explanation?

"I'm sorry
I've not been in touch," I said sorrowfully as she answered the
phone.

"What's been
happening?" she asked. "I came round and you weren't in, and I've
phoned several times."

"I had to go
out. Look, why don't you come round for coffee this morning?"

"All right, in
an hour or so. What's been happening with your neighbour?"

"I'll tell you
when I see you."

"OK. You won't
go out again, will you?"

"No, I'll be
here."

Wondering
whether or not to tell Carole the truth, I thought it best to play
it by ear. I wanted to tell her everything - Den, Lisa, the crude
sex, the notes... She was my best friend, and that's what friends
are for. There again, what would she think of me if I told her
about the garden hoe?

Gazing out of
the kitchen window at the scandalous tool, I felt my vagina
tighten, my clitoris swell. Could I... ? No, I couldn't repeat the
beautifully vile act now, but I desperately needed to come. I
thought of Lisa, her tongue, her baby-smooth cunt lips, her long,
succulent nipples.

What was I
becoming? What had I become? I felt so lost, alone, confused.
Talking to Carole wouldn't help, I reflected. She'd try to persuade
me to tell Mat about Den, insist that he'd understand if he really
loved me. Had she ever had lesbian sex? I wondered. Did she
masturbate, rub her clitoris to orgasm?

My arousal
soared as I waited for her to arrive. I had to come, to masturbate
and relieve my mounting sexual tension. Pulling my wet panties off,
I slipped my hand up my short skirt and toyed with my sensitive
inner lips, pulling and twisting my pink petals. I was wet, very
wet. My clitoris swollen, I desperately needed an orgasm.

Had I time to
masturbate before Carole arrived? Time or not, I had to bring
myself off. In the lounge, I sat down, placing my legs over the
arms of the chair and tugging my skirt up over my stomach. Parting
my thighs further, my vaginal crack wide open, I slipped a finger
deep into my hot sex duct, caressing my inner flesh, inducing my
creamy pussy milk to flow.

Massaging my
clitoris with my free hand, I closed my eyes, quivering as the
beautiful sensations mounted, gently rippling through my body. I
was becoming addicted to orgasm, craving the immense satisfaction
and pleasure masturbation brought. The very act of slipping my
panties down, opening my legs, just thinking about masturbating,
triggered powerful sexual feelings.

I was building
a strong affiliation with my cunt, almost an obsession, a
fascination. My clitoris had become the epitome of my body, the
essence of my very being. I could almost feel a spiritual energy
flowing through my pulsating pleasure nodule as I masturbated, an
uncanny sexual energy I'd never known before. My breasts swollen,
my nipples ached for my caress, yearned for the wet heat of my
mouth. My body longed for my love.

Unbuttoning my
blouse, cupping my firm breast in my hand, I lowered my head and
took my sensitive nipple into my mouth and gently sucked. Resuming
my clitoral massaging, my vaginal fingering, I bit on my nipple,
the wonderful sensations permeating my full breasts, running
through my quivering womb. My whole body was alive with sex, my
thighs twitching, my stomach rising and falling, my mind drifting
on a cloud of carnal ecstasy. Faster I massaged my pulsating sex
button, fingered my wet cunt, my orgasm building within my
contracting womb as my erect nipple slipped out of my mouth. I
wanted Lisa's mouth there, sucking my brown bud, milking me.

Gasping, my
eyes rolling, my head tossing from side to side, I shuddered as my
orgasm came, erupting within my throbbing clitoris. My vagina
lovingly gripping my pistoning fingers, I pictured Lisa licking and
fingering me, the images adding to the beautiful waves of pure
sexual ecstasy, intensifying my climax. I longed for her shaved
cunt pressed against my mouth, my tongue lapping up her orgasmic
cream. I imagined my tongue delving deep into her hot sex hole,
licking her, fucking her.

As my orgasm
rolled on, I moved my buttocks forward, my legs opening wider,
almost at right angles to my trembling body, my cunt slit gaping. I
desperately wanted Lisa between my thighs, masturbating me,
drinking from my hot duct, fingering me. Did I want Den fucking me?
I wondered as my climax finally began to wane. Did I want him
sperming in my mouth? Did I want Mat?

Slowing my
masturbating rhythm, my mind drifting down from paradise, I caught
sight of the candle on the mantlepiece. My vaginal juices running
down between my parted buttocks, lubricating my anal portal, I
wondered whether to slip the wax shaft deep into my bottom and
masturbate again. I felt dirty, wicked. I craved sex and looked
frantically around the room for something long and wide to slip
into my spasming vagina.

Eyeing the
brass door knob, I clambered to my feet and crossed the room.
Pulling my skirt up as I stood by the door, I manoeuvred my hips,
slipping the brass knob between my swollen pussy lips. It was very
big and I wasn't sure whether my cunt would stretch to accommodate
the cold phallus. I was thinking like a nymphomaniac, behaving like
a wanton whore, but I couldn't help myself. Bouncing up and down,
the knob forcing my inner labia wide apart, massaging my wet sex
valley, I wondered whether Carole had ever committed such an
obscene act.

Suddenly, the
rounded knob slipped into my vaginal duct, filling me, cooling my
hot inner flesh. "God, what am I doing?" I breathed as I gyrated my
hips, the brass knob stretching me wide open, massaging deep inside
my cunt. Leaning back, slowly rocking my hips, I shuddered as the
beautiful stretching sensations sent a quiver up my spine. I'd
found yet another phallus to use every day, yet another friend to
comfort my insatiable cunt. Did Carole fuck door knobs?

My finger
between my buttocks, tentatively toying with the sensitive brown
tissue surrounding my anal duct, I'd become sex-crazed. I was
discovering new sensations, new crude acts to appease my craving
for debased sex. My finger driving deep into my tight arsehole,
waking the secret nerve endings there, bringing me incredible
sensations, I rocked my hips faster, fucking myself with the solid
door knob. I imagined Carole bottom-fingering herself.

As my drenched
vagina tightened, gripping the knob, my second orgasm erupted,
taking me to amazing heights of sexual pleasure as I thrust my
finger in and out of my hot anus. My lust for debauched sex was
rocketing, and I wondered to what heights of self abuse I'd fly, to
what depths of sexual depravity I'd sink. A banana, the candle, the
garden hoe, the door knob... What else would I force deep into my
cunt and fuck myself with?

"God!" I
cried, clinging to the door as my legs crumpled beneath me. "God,
it's beautiful!" Rocking my hips faster, the door knob driving in
and out of my aching pussy, I finally fell back, the hot phallus
slipping out of my inflamed vagina as I staggered across the room.
Pulling my finger out of my tight rectal sheath, I flopped onto the
sofa, trembling, gasping, whimpering as I drifted down from my
sexual heaven.

Did other
women behave as I had while their husbands were at work?

The doorbell
ringing, I brushed my damp locks away from my burning face and
scanned the room. There was no evidence of my debauchery, no signs
of my incredible self abuse. Staggering to my feet, yanking my
skirt down, I teetered through the hall and opened the door to
Carole, smiling sweetly as she stepped inside.

"Are you OK?"
she asked concernedly.

"Yes, I'm
fine."

"You're very
flushed, and you're sweating. You haven't got a temperature, have
you?"

"I've been
exercising," I parroted as she followed me to the kitchen. "I'm on
a keep-fit thing at the moment."

Seating
herself at the table, her suspicious gaze fell to my discarded
cunny-wet panties. Picking them from the floor, I casually tossed
them into the washing machine and filled the kettle. My cunt milk
coursing down my inner thighs, my hands still trembling, I wondered
whether she'd guessed what I'd been doing. Did she finger-fuck her
bottom?

"Do you
masturbate?" I asked, immediately wishing I hadn't.

"That's a
funny question!" she laughed. "Do you?"

"Yes," I
replied coolly, spooning coffee into the cups. "I read somewhere
that most women masturbate."

"I used to,
but not now. I have John, so I don't need to."

"I have Mat,
but I still masturbate."

"This is an
odd subject to be discussing when you're being blackmailed. Tell me
about this neighbour of yours, what he's been up to."

"It's OK now,"
I lied. "He's... he's moved away."

"That must be
a relief."

"It is! I've
put it all behind me now, moved on."

"There's still
something troubling you, Jane, I can tell. There's something
different about you."

"Have you
ever... Have you ever had a lesbian relationship?"

"A lesbian
relationship? What's all this about? What are you driving at?"

"An article I
read - it said that a lot of women experiment with their own sex at
some time or other."

"Well, at
school... I went to a boarding school and... Can't we talk about
something else?"

"Go on, I'm
interested."

"Jane, I
really don't want to talk about masturbation and lesbian
relationships."

"Sorry, it's
just that I found the article interesting."

"How's Mat? I
saw him leaving as I arrived, has he got a day off?"

"No, no he
left over an hour ago. Are you sure it was him?"

"Yes, he
didn't see me, but it was him all right."

Passing Carole
her coffee, I wondered whether Mat had forgotten something and...
It suddenly occurred to me that he might have seen me in the
lounge. Lost in my sexual haze, I wouldn't have heard him come in.
Had he watched me? How long had he been there, spying on me during
my most private moments? If he had seen me, at least he'd now
believe that I masturbated. But the thought of him watching
horrified me.

What if Den
and Lisa had been in the lounge, fucking me, abusing me? I'd have
to put the latch up on the front door lock the next time I
masturbated. The last thing I wanted was Mat barging in and
discovering me naked, fucking myself with a banana! And if he were
to see me with the garden hoe stuffed up my bottom!

"John's just
booked for us to go to Portugal for a couple of weeks," Carole
said, obviously trying to lighten the conversation.

"That'll be
great. I'm thinking about going to Greece," I replied. "A week or
two on a Greek island would be heavenly."

"We all need
to get away at times."

"Tell me about
it! I just want to get away from Den."

"Den?" she
echoed.

"Er... I
mean..." I stammered, wondering how to explain. "He's a friend of
Mat's. They work in the same office and he calls round most
evenings."

"Tell Mat that
you don't want him coming round."

"It's usually
about work, so... Anyway, how's John's promotion going?"

"We're still
waiting to hear. It's a real nail-biting time, I can tell you!
Shall we sit in the garden? It's a lovely day."

Turning and
looking out of the window, I wondered whether Den was at home. If
we sat in the garden, he might spy on us, take photographs and...
Realizing that I was becoming paranoid, I opened the back door and
stepped outside.

"You're
right," I said as Carole joined me on the patio. "It is a lovely
day."

"The garden's
looking nice," she remarked, wandering across the lawn with her
coffee. "I see you've been hoeing."

"Yes, I... It
keeps the weeds down."