Naked Lies (9 page)

Den made his
appearance at half-past six, wielding a bunch of flowers. He
grinned at me, licking his lips and rubbing his crotch as Mat
poured the wine. He was a bastard, but I had plans to bring him
down! My hands trembling, a thrill running down my spine, I decided
to bring up the subject of relationships as we relaxed in the
lounge before dinner.

"You're not
married are you, Den?" I asked, smiling sweetly.

"No, the idea
never appealed to me," he replied, obviously wondering at the
nature of my game.

"Don't you
have a lady friend?"

"No, I...
There is one young lady who I... Well, you know how it is. Our
relationship is purely sexual. She needs me and I need her."

"Purely
sexual?" I echoed, parting my thighs and displaying my crack to Den
as Mat switched the hi-fi on.

"Er... Yes,
I..."

"Is she
local?"

"She lives
nearby."

"Unattached?"

"She... Yes,
she is. So, what do you do for a living?"

"I don't
work," I purred, delighting in the cat and mouse game as he leaned
forward, focusing on my excited pussy as I parted my thighs
further.

"So, what do
you do all day?"

"I keep myself
busy."

"Jane keeps
the garden nice," Mat broke in. "She's a dab hand."

"Yes, I can
see that!" Den smiled as I closed my legs. "Your garden looks
really nice."

"I'll check
the food," Mat said, leaving the room.

Reclining with
my thighs wide apart, my buttocks over the edge of the chair, I
blatantly showed Den all I had between my legs. He frowned, gazing
at me, my gaping sex slit, obviously wondering why I was taking
such a risk. He didn't understand me, my game. I didn't understand
myself!

"What are you
trying to do?" he finally asked softly.

"Trying to
do?" I echoed, licking my lips provocatively.

"You're a
fool, behaving like this with Mat around."

"Behaving like
what?"

"You know damn
well what I mean."

"I'm sorry,
Den, I have no idea what you're talking about."

As Mat opened
the door, I hurriedly sat upright and closed my legs. Although Den
had more than enough on me to ruin my marriage, I felt that he had
nothing on me now. There was no way he'd wreck any chance he had of
getting his hands up my skirt, his fingers up my juicy cunt!
Although he had the evidence of my debauchery, I was sure that he'd
no longer blackmail me.

Den tried to
rile me during the meal, but I wasn't having any of it. Laughing at
his witty comments and giving him as good as he gave me, there was
no way he was going to win. It wasn't until Mat left the room and
Den pulled a photograph from his jacket pocket that I realised that
I'd assumed a false position of power. Propping the picture up
against the Liebfraumilch, he grinned.

"You see, I do
have photographs of you standing naked in my lounge with my fingers
up your wet cunt," he whispered triumphantly. I stared in horror at
the incriminating picture. My face clearly visible, his fingers
deep inside my sex sheath, it was obvious that I was enjoying every
minute of his intimate attention. If Mat were to see it, he'd
surely kill me!

I'd been a
fool to believe that I could win over Den. He was a ruthless
blackmailer who'd stop at nothing to have his evil way with me.
Fear flooded me, washing away all my newly acquired sense of power.
My face flushing, burning as Mat returned, I didn't know what to
do. Grabbing the photograph, Den slipped it into his pocket,
grinning victoriously at me as Mat sat down.

I was doomed,
I knew, as the men chatted about money, stocks and shares. My
marriage, my life... Everything was doomed! Although I still
reckoned that Den wouldn't reveal the dreadful truth, he had me
exactly where he wanted me. That ridiculous magazine photograph
meant nothing now. My dressing gown, suspender belts, panties, the
tape... Den had all he needed to bring me crashing down in the form
of one lousy photograph!

"Do you know
what I forgot to get?" Mat asked me.

"No, what's
that?"

"Cigars. I
meant to pick some up on my way home."

"It doesn't
matter," I smiled. "I'm sure Den won't mind going without."

"I'll go and
get some, it'll only take a few minutes."

"No, don't
bother, Mat," I blurted out, knowing what Den would do the minute
we were alone.

"It's no
bother. You both have a chat, I won't be long."

My stomach
churned as Mat left the room and Den grinned at me. I heard the
front door slam shut. I was alone with my blackmailer. Yet again,
I'd played the complete fool. He knew that I wasn't wearing
panties, that my pussy was naked, easy prey. What had happened to
my plans? I wondered as he stood up and moved around the table.
What the hell had happened to my plans of revenge, of power?

"Suck me,
bitch!" he ordered me, hauling his erect penis out of his tight
jeans as he stood by my chair. "Come on, whore, suck me off!"

"Den, Mat will
only be..."

"He'll be long
enough."

"But..."

"Suck me off,
or I'll show him the photograph! Ask me to fuck your mouth and
spunk over your tongue."

"Den, for
Christ's sake!"

"Beg me to
fuck your mouth and spunk over your tongue! I mean it, I'm not
playing games, making false threats."

"Please...
please fuck my mouth and spunk over my tongue," I finally
breathed.

As he pulled
his foreskin back, I looked around the room. The curtains were
drawn, no one could see in, my dirty secret would be safe. But how
often would this happen? I wondered, focusing on his veined shaft,
his swollen glans. How often would he demand that I suck him to
orgasm? My mouth had become a lust-mouth, a cunt.

"You'd better
hurry up, bitch!" he growled, pushing his penis closer to my face.
Opening my mouth as he yanked his foreskin right back, I engulfed
his silky knob and gently sucked. The sooner it was over, the
better, I reflected as he began to breathe deeply. The sooner I'd
swallowed his sperm, quelled his libido, the better.

"You're bloody
good at this," he whispered, holding my head and slowly rocking his
hips, his purple knob sliding back and forth over my tongue.
"That's it, whore! Suck me, lick me until I spunk down your
throat!" My eyes closed as he drove his knob to the back of my
throat, I prayed for him to come quickly. "Ah, yes!" he gasped, his
penis twitching. "God, that's good! Do this for me every day, and
your sordid little secret will be safe."

Every day? I
mused bewilderedly, moving my hand up and down his wet shaft to
bring out his sperm before Mat returned. He definitely had me
exactly where he wanted me. I was nothing more than his sex slave!
"Do it properly, bitch!" he admonished me. "Use your tongue
properly!"

Snaking my
tantalizing tongue round his swollen knob, I again prayed for him
to come. If Mat walked in... God, all hell would be let loose!
Ridiculous thoughts battered my mind as he rocked his hips faster,
fucking my mouth. We could move house, go to a different area far
away from Den. Perhaps I could get a job, work all day in the safe
surroundings of an office. I didn't know what the answer was.

"Coming!" Den
cried as his purple knob swelled. His sperm gushing, flooding my
mouth, I swallowed again and again. "Wank me!" he ordered me. "Do
it properly, bitch!" Wanking his solid shaft, sucking his orgasming
knob, I drank his treacherous sperm, draining his balls, quelling
his libido. I was nothing more than an object, an object with a
hot, wet mouth to fuck as and when the notion took his fancy.

His flow
finally stemming, I swallowed for the last time. Again, he'd fucked
my mouth, baptized my throat with his blasphemous lust juice.
Again, I'd succumbed to my evil blackmailer. Slipping his spent
penis out of my mouth as Mat called out from the hall, he coolly
seated himself. Frantically licking my lips, wiping my mouth on a
serviette, my face flushed as Mat breezed in.

"Cigars!" he
announced triumphantly, passing one to Den. "I wasn't too long, was
I?"

"No, your
timing was perfect!" Den grinned. "We've had a nice chat, haven't
we, Jane?"

"Yes, a nice
chat," I echoed softly, the taste of sperm lingering on my tongue.
"I... I think I'll go up to bed. I'm not feeling too well."

"Oh, I am
sorry," Mat frowned. "I hope it's nothing you've eaten."

"Maybe it's
something you drank," Den winked, flashing me a salacious grin.

"Maybe. I'll
see you later, Mat. Goodnight, Den."

Climbing the
stairs, tears staining my cheeks, I knew that I had to put an end
to the relentless ruination of my marriage - my life. But how?
Short of running away, there was nothing I could do. Stripping off
and climbing beneath the summery quilt, my mind reeling as male
laughter drifted up the stairs, I cried myself to sleep and dreamed
my dreams of Den's penis spunking in my mouth - my cunt-mouth.

I woke to yet
another day - a day of fear, blackmail and, no doubt, crude sex. I
needed to think, to plan the end of the nightmare. I couldn't go on
like this, living in constant fear, jumping every time the phone
rang or someone knocked on the door, I told myself.

Leaving Mat
sleeping, I slipped out of bed and stood before the full-length
mirror. Turning my naked body, I surveyed the weals fanning out
across my buttocks, wondering whether Mat had seen the evidence of
the thrashing as he'd climbed into bed. Obviously not, I decided,
or he'd have said something, questioned me all night long, hurled
accusations at me.

Naked, as I no longer owned a dressing gown, I wandered
downstairs to the kitchen and filled the kettle. It was only
six-thirty but the summer sun was already up, warming the garden,
opening the pink petals of the flowers. My pink sex petals had
opened to Den's tongue, but not to his penis. I vowed never to take
his penis into my cunt - never!
Cunt
. I chided myself for the
vulgarity.

Opening the
back door, I recalled sitting at the dining room table with Den's
cock in my mouth, his sperm gushing over my tongue. I imagined that
I could still taste his jism. Thank God Mat hadn't pestered me for
sex when he'd eventually come to bed, I reflected, wandering out
onto the patio, the sun charging my naked body.

Sitting on a
chair, I knew that Den wouldn't be up and about yet. I was safe in
the garden - for a while, at least. I had time alone, time to
think. Contemplating my firm breasts, I wondered whether Den would
ever suck my nipples again. Could I halt the degradation, the
humiliation? What plan could I come up with to put an end to the
nightmare?

Looking up at
his house, I contemplated breaking in and retrieving the evidence.
But even if I managed to get in, I'd never find the photographs and
the tape. Den wasn't stupid, they were bound to be well hidden. He
had me exactly where he wanted me, I again reflected. Living next
door to him, I was permanently available for crude sex, always
there to service him. I felt hunted, like a fugitive - caged, like
an animal.

Unconsciously
parting my thighs and toying with my wet inner lips as I relaxed
beneath the warming sun, my mind drifted. Sex reared its ugly head
- its beautiful head! My arousal soaring as my clitoris stiffened,
I closed my eyes, unwittingly rubbing between my swelling sex lips,
massaging my secret button. The exquisite sensations built quickly,
reaching every nerve ending, tightening every muscle, consuming me.
My naked body trembling, I opened my eyes, suddenly aware that I
was masturbating in the garden.

"God!" I
breathed, leaping to my feet. "I can't keep doing this!" Wandering
down the garden, I tried to clear my head, to push all thoughts of
masturbation and orgasm to the back of my mind. I was becoming
sex-crazed, my insatiable clitoris leading me astray, down the
seductive path to complete and utter depravity. But, as much as I
tried, I couldn't deny my soaring arousal, my desperate yearning
for orgasm. The spirit of sex had touched me.

At the end of
the garden, the grass soft beneath my naked feet, I looked about
me. I wasn't consciously aware of what I was looking for until I'd
found it. Driven into a flower border, the garden hoe beckoned me,
its green plastic handle at forty-five degrees, inviting my cunt.
Standing with my feet wide apart, the rounded end of the handle
only inches from my swollen vaginal lips, I suddenly wondered what
had come over me.

"No," I protested weakly, turning to walk away. I couldn't
commit the degrading act. But the notion intrigued me, beckoned me,
and I turned back, the long green phallus attracting me like a
magnet. Crude thoughts whispered in my head.
Bury the handle in your cunt and fuck yourself to
orgasm
. I was weak, my arousal strong. I
knew I'd lose the battle, though I tried desperately to resist.
"God, no!" I sighed lamely again as my cunt spasmed, my clitoris
pulsated and my lust juices bubbled down my inner
thighs.

Positioning
the end of the handle between my ballooning outer lips, I
manoeuvred my hips, aligning the shaft with my sex duct. Taking a
look around the garden to make sure that I was alone, I moved
forward, the plastic handle entering my tight cunt. The shaft was
bigger, longer and broader than any penis, the filling sensation
heavenly. My inner flesh stretching, opening to accommodate the
massive phallus, I gasped as my clitoris swelled and throbbed.

Parting my
feet further, I rocked my hips, the shaft driving in and out of my
cunt, fucking me, taking me to frightening heights of arousal.
Tweaking my erect nipple, I massaged the solid nub of my exposed
clitoris with my free hand, bringing out beautiful pre-orgasmic
sensations. I desperately needed to come, to quell my incredible
libido, to find the peace and tranquillity that only orgasm brings.
A nymphomaniac? The word haunted me.