For me, Dan Raymond, the past forty-eight hours had been almost unbelievable. Two days ago, Desmond Greeley, diamond merchant and entrepreneur, had phoned to say he’d enjoyed my last book and had invited me to a party at his luxury mansion. Everything since then seemed to be leading to this gorgeous blonde lady, now squirming and screeching wildly underneath me, as I drove my pounding erection deep into her luscious depths. Slowly back, and, as she squeaked her protest, a harder deeper more vigorous thrust drove her over the edge.
“It’s now. Now, oh, Dan. Yeees.” I had to clutch her shoulders as she jerked. Her head tossed wildly, sending that long blonde hair that had first attracted me streaming across her face and out over the pillow. The face that had looked so gentle in repose, now, in the throes of her orgasm, was witchlike, mouth agape, eyes wide, seeing nothing. Her fingernails dug into my back, while I eased my humping to a slower pace.
Kissing and licking the perspiration from her succulent breasts, I sensed her calming as her breathing returned to normal.
“God, that was –I’ll—Have you not cum?” Her eyes had widened again, in some surprise.
I was proud enough of my ability to give her a couple of extra strong thrusts.
“My cunt will make you cum,” she gasped, and I felt her inner muscles nip at the head of my tumescent cock. Hell, that was so good, but I was aware of my own powers, and since this fantastic lady had instigated the whole thing, I was compelled to give her the full treatment.
She lay back now, happy to accept my continued pounding. Her name was Cyn. “It’s what I do,” she had laughed when I’d first reacted to the sound of that name.
I kept on fucking while, to delay my climax, my mind relived earlier events. In the sumptuous surroundings of the Greeley mansion, there had been several elegant women. But my breath had stalled at my first sight of this gorgeous lady in a blue low-backed gown, her long blonde hair flowing down her back.
She always seemed involved in various chatting groups. I contented myself taking mental notes of my plush surroundings, useful for some future book. Some ladies had me talking about my books, but my mind was set on getting close to the blonde lady in blue.
Before midnight, the guests were fewer, and I saw her, alone at last, mounting the two steps to the buffet table. With her gown tightening over neat buttocks, she stood viewing the remains of the food.
I hurried up the steps as she leaned to select something. On the same level, I saw, through the massive mirror behind the buffet, how her gown slackened to display a tempting fleshy valley. No bra there, as the lady chose a cream cake, and straightening, she saw me reflected in the mirror.
Slowly, very deliberately, she turned, a generous smile lighting her face. Facing me, holding the cream bun to her lips, she leaned back in a provocative pose, her blue eyes challenging me.
“Ah, our talented writer. Dan Raymond, isn’t it? I read your last novel,” She licked at a sliver of cream and, slowly, keeping it on the tip of her tongue, drew it back into her mouth. A most sensuous action.
I wondered how she knew my name and had read my book. Prospects looked good here, as I openly viewed the way her breasts jutted against the dress fabric.
She’d seen the direction of my eyes as she asked, “Like what you see?”
Oh, there was little doubt here. So boldly I said, “Yes, I imagine they can stand up for themselves. Like what you read?”
“Not as hot as I expected,” she said, with a casual shrug. This shook me because everyone else had thought my book had been my sexiest yet.
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
She grinned as she relaxed her pose from the table edge and moved towards me. “Oh, the night is young.” She had dropped her voice a tone as she glanced towards the dance floor. “Should we dance first?”
First? Oh, this was getting better and better. Then, she suddenly grabbed my hand and growled, “No, sod dancing. Let’s just fuck.”
What the hell? I was already convinced of her availability, so this approach threw me. I’d had females proposition me before but never as bluntly as this. Uncertain for the first time, I looked around and saw that no one was taking any notice as she pulled me to an open French window.
Crossing a moonlit patio, we walked a path between the vast lawn and tall trees. When she told me her name, she laughed at my first reaction. “C—Y—N, short for Cynthia.”
The night air was warm as we stopped, and her parted lips were pressing against mine. Her tongue, swift as a snake, darted into my mouth. I wasn’t so dumb as to delay my response. Stroking one hand over the tight, smooth skin of her back, I needed to break the kiss and ask, “Are we doing it out here?”
Her lips pursed thoughtfully, but she said, “Could be pleasant. You could chase me, catch me and fuck me against a tree. Rough can be good.” She chuckled, and as she led me further along the path, she went on, “But not tonight. Tonight, we’re private.” And she pointed ahead.
I, almost dazzled by her open sexuality, looked, and in the moonlight saw a small building set back among the trees. Tiny, like a woodsman’s cottage with a faint light at the only window. Questions tumbled into my head.
At the door, Cyn placed a finger to my lips and whispered, “No questions now. They’re for later.”
She opened the door and as I followed her inside, I saw a room that screamed seduction. Nothing but a boudoir with a large sumptuously cushioned bed and low lights on either side; a single door to the right, and an arch ahead leading to a kitchen setting; a coffee table and two chairs, and they were the total furnishing.
Cyn closed in and growled, “Undo me.”
I found the catch at the back of her neck, loosened it and she stepped back to allow her gown to drop away from her wonderful, as I had guessed, firmly upstanding, pink-nippled breasts. As the gown disappeared completely, I saw that she was curvaceous everywhere.
I raised my hand towards her breasts, but she pushed off my jacket, before lying back on the bed, thighs parted, shamelessly displaying her shaven mound and cleft.
“Get naked,” she said, and almost desperately, she added huskily, demandingly, “One good fuck. That’s all.”
With my stiffened cock already prepared for that, I shed my shirt and pants in double-quick time, and as I climbed alongside her on the bed she grasped my cock, gave a quick observation, “Good looking prick,” before drawing me to the pink that showed between her parted thighs.
Could she be wet enough? I instantly found my cock enveloped in a tunnel of wetness, sucked eagerly up to the hilt. Over recent minutes, she had responded to my own pounding with equal gusto, until her breathing and impassioned groans had warned me of her near orgasm.
Now, here I was thrusting into her, hearing once again her eager gasps and one surprised, “My God,” as her hips heaved back at me. Knowing my endurance had surprised her, I intensified my thrusts. I knew he could release at any time and that time wasn’t far away.
I judged Cyn’s reactions to my thrusts. Her breaths were certainly shorter, and when I stroked my hand over one breast and fingered the nipples, everything speeded up. Our mouths had been glued together for a while, but Cyn was finding it difficult to keep her head still. I fingered that lustrous hair knowing that it was almost her time, and I began treating her channel to longer, deeper lunges.
“Oh, I—Oh. Cum with me.” Her body was twisting and squirming under me, just as it had earlier. Harder, deeper, and I felt my balls expand to release, as Cyn’s hips rose up to me, and what sounded like a sobbing gurgle escaped her lips. “Oh, fucking hell. Oh, yee-“
Next second she was screaming out loud as my cream spurted into her, pulse after pulse. Ah, that thrill of release. Each pulse was accompanied by an extra thrust and Cyn was writhing and wriggling as though all her nerve ends were on fire. Together we hit a high that was beyond what I had expected.
With a sigh, I felt my cock begin to slide limply out of her, but as I rolled my weight off her she reached out to stroke gently over my slimy, flaccid organ. “Thank you,” she whispered.
As we lay recovering, Cyn, sounding amazed, murmured, “Twice, I came twice.”
So many questions massed in my head, as I took in the many erotic pictures around the walls. Mainly paintings but with some photographs.
At last, feeling that Cyn was alert enough, I started asking, “How do you know about this place, Cyn?”
“Because it’s mine,” she said quietly.
“You live here?”
She laughed, “Not here. I live in the house.”
“In the house? Are you the housekeeper?”
She laughed again, and hit me with the bombshell news, “Desmond is my husband.”
Hearing that, I flung my legs over the side of the bed, as, shocked, I gasped, “Husband? Whoa, Cyn, I’m not into that kind of sin.”
She put two restraining hands on my arm. Her eyes, wide and blue, came up to mine and pleaded, “Please, listen. Then, if you still want away, I won’t stop you.”
She snuggled up to me, bringing one of my hands up to her breast. I, with guilt still plaguing my mind, was briefly mollified. Cyn looked into my face as she explained, “Desmond had this place built, furnished and decorated for me two years ago.”
“Why?” I was puzzled yet intrigued.
“Remember all the media interest in his private plane crash three years ago?
I did have some recollection, “Wasn’t expected to survive. That right?”
Cyn nodded, “He was, and is, a strong guy. Pulled through---got his legs functioning,” Her lip puckered, “But his lower half,” and she gestured over my groin, “Was all mashed up, and the brain injury killed libido.”
I nodded, beginning to understand, but still had doubts, “But, what—”
Cyn brought her face close to mine, without touching as she asked, “Dan, why do you think Desmond asked you here tonight?”
Something quivered inside me, as I said, “To have a literary presence.”
“Partly,” she nodded, “but mainly to fuck me.”
It dawned on me now. That’s how she knew who I was and probably why she had read my book. I asked her that.
Guiltily, she nodded, “I wanted to know what to expect.”
“Disappointed?”
“In the book, yes. In you? A hell of a surprise. All the other guys have had one poke at me, and then they were out.”
“All? Christ, how many have there been?”
“I told you, he had this place built---for me. We’d had a super love-life.” She hugged me as tears welled in her blue eyes, “He knew I was highly-sexed. Knew I’d be suffering such frustration ---so he came up with the plan.”
I was even more intrigued now, “Which was?”
“Whenever I got agitated, he allowed me to be fucked by a man. Notice, fucked, never loved —of his choice. One fuck and no second helpings.”
I was doing a rough calculation in my head, “So that’s roughly twenty guys have shafted you.”
“Twenty-one, not counting tonight. But tonight was so different. You fuck like a demon.”
I’d been praised for my staying before but never felt big-headed about it. Cyn’s next question didn’t surprise me, “Control like that. How did you acquire that skill?”
Cyn rested her head on my shoulder, and I told her about Tessie, a thirty-two-year-old divorcee. “She made my last three months at university special. Spent much time on schooling me on control, because my lack of it annoyed her.”
I gave her a smile, as she sat up, and looked down at me. “Clever lady. About my age. Did she have a good body?”
“A little pudgier than yours,” I said tactfully.
Cyn leaned closer to me as she said, “One thing I haven’t told you, I”
I saw the worried look on her face, “What?”
“An agreement I made with Desmond.”
“An agreement?”
She nodded, “Whenever I have a session with a man, Desmond wants to hear all the details.”
I didn’t know what my face showed, but I heard the shock in my own voice, as I gasped, “You tell him everything?”
“It’s all he has. It makes him happy when I talk of my own pleasure.”
“And you put in all the detail?”
“It’s what he wants,” she said, and quickly slipped out of the bed, to stand over me, and my eyes scanned that gorgeous body from face down to the cleft that peeked from under her bare mound. There was so much I would like to have done with her.
“I’m going for a shower now. It’s only tiny. You lie there and recover.” She began to move towards the door on the far wall, but stopped, turned back, to say, “After what I’ve told you, if you’re gone when I get back, I will quite understand.”
A quick smile and she was gone, and I heard water splashing. I lay and looked at some of the pictures near the bed. I reckoned most of the sexual positions I was familiar with were represented. Oh, yes, the great fucking lover, me. But it was decision time.
I had just fucked another man’s wife. Something that had always been beyond my principles. Was it any easier knowing I had Desmond’s blessing? I wasn’t sure. And, recalling Cyn’s ecstatic orgasms how would she recount that?
I lay back and closed my eyes. I should walk away now, shouldn’t I? But, oh, the promise of that demanding body. My selfish streak was telling me that since I had already committed the act, what difference did this continuation make?
The water had stopped running. My writer’s mind played with the idea of creating a plot around the situation. Then the door opened, and Cyn peered around it. Seeing me, she murmured, “Oh, good.” Her head disappeared again. I sat up still half-thinking I should have been away.
Within seconds, the door opened again, and Cyn appeared wrapped in a large bath towel and struggling with a large heavy dish. I swung my feet to the floor, as she staggered under the weight. Reaching her, I saw water slopping about in the dish. Taking it from her, I placed it on the table, noticing the large yellow sponge in the water.
“Damned shower has packed in,” she grumbled, and I saw another towel over her arm. “Managed mine, but for some reason, the water supply packed in.”
I watched as Cyn spread the second towel on the floor, “Now stand on that and I’ll treat you to a gentle rub down.”
“Oh, very domineering,” I teased her, very aware that I was standing there naked, and the sexiness of her in that towel was bringing my cock up to half mast.
Laughing, Cyn picked up the sponge and began squeezing excess water from it. “Come on, you know you’ll love it.”
Immediately, she began rubbing the warm sponge over my shoulders and chest with one hand, while her other hand caressed ahead of the first rubbing over any stray trickles of water. She was right, I loved it.
I especially loved it, when her hand arrived in the area, where my cock had already revived to point its purple head towards her. Smiling that lascivious smile, her lead hand strayed along my length causing me to grunt before it hefted around my balls, ensuring that my cock lifted keenly towards the wet sponge which now enclosed it.
“Interested?” she asked with a giggly growl.
“Fairly good,” I told her, trying to sound indifferent, and failing as she gripped the sponge tightly around my pulsing manhood and gave a couple of hefty pulls.
I involuntarily jerked my hips backwards, and she looked up at me, hissing, “Game over,” and lobbed the sponge back into the bowl. Then, grabbing the towel, she rubbed it swiftly down my chest and belly, before hanging it over my jutting cock, which was dragged to point downwards.
She sat back and laughed, “Oh, what a weak tool.”
I couldn’t help laughing, before whipping the towel away. “You can’t hide my weapon,” I said.
“Yes, I can. Like this.” And before I could draw another breath, her lips had closed around my shaft and sucked it to fill her mouth.
As I gasped, I tried to mutter, “You’ve made it wet again.”
Drawing back her head, Cyn giggled, and with the shiny purple head balanced on her lower lip, she asked, “Want me to swallow?”
“You want to?”
“I am tempted,” she said, allowing my cock to fall away from her lip. “But I’d prefer another hard screwing.”
I wasn’t surprised. Much appeal lay in having her suck me down, but no more than giving her another good shafting. Without any pause, I helped her to her feet giving her left nipple a quick peck before I guided her to the bed.
As she lay back, she asked, “You like my tits?”
Stroking each one of those smooth globes in turn, I told her, “Simply the best.” She smiled her appreciation as I considered asking whether Desmond, despite his disability, still liked the feel of them. No, I pushed the thought aside, not wanting it to impinge on what we were about to do.
“I’m ready,” Cyn whispered, her hand reaching down for my cock. “Lift me to the stars again.”
Just as her fingers touched me, I had the mad impulse to savour the taste and aroma of her. Accordingly, I slithered my body down the bed and out of her reach, hearing her weak protest, but already with my face poised over her bare labia.
I allowed one finger to trace along the sluiced length of her crease, lingering around the edges of her entry, before poking into the extra moistness.
“Oh, Dan,” Cyn gasped, “you’re making my cunt weep.”
“With joy, I hope,” I managed to blurt out, as my tongue began to trail after my finger. Cyn’s hips jerked up at my face, and I heard her moan. My tongue had dipped into a bowl of honey, cream, and salt. The aroma that surrounded me was a mix of lavender and musk. The sensations were amazing, and I could have continued the activity all night, but I was tuned in to Cyn’s heavy breathing and despairing growls. She was close, and, given the deep pleasure of bringing her to that state, I wasn’t far away, myself.
Inserting a second finger into her, I trailed my tongue past that point to lap the fringe of her tiny rear orifice. That did it.
Cyn heaving, squirming with her head rolling, was repeating my name over and over again, with a desperation that made her sound like a machine gun, “Dan,Dan,Dan!”
Quicker than I thought possible, I was over her and slamming the eager hardness of my rampant cock up into her wildly pulsing interior. Her juices flowed, as I continued thrust after passionate thrust. But the despairing thought that I’d tried to bury was insistent.
I was fucking another man’s wife. It was a spoken accusation in my head, because, earlier I had resolved any guilt by telling myself it was with his permission. But this second blissful involvement was stolen.
Fearful that my erection might stall, I let my climax begin. Cyn picked up on my quickened pace and within seconds we were both yelping and gasping as our juices mingled.
Lying side by side, calming down, Cyn found her voice first, “Dan, was that as good for you as it was for me?”
That was the moment, the chance for a braver man to admit his doubts. But I was still filled with uncertain emotions, filled with the joy of Cyn’s insatiable lust and the abandon we had shared. All I said, in response to her question, was, “It had to be.”
We used the towels to clean ourselves up, and, as we dressed, Cyn pointed through the kitchen to, what I guessed, was an exit door. In confirming that, Cyn told me, “There is a path through there that leads to an outside gate which is always locked.”
She did not elaborate on that until we reached the edge of the car park. On the way, she had slipped a card in the top pocket of my jacket and had given me a slight smile. We kissed gently in the moonlight, and now she told me, “I never have anyone on Sundays. I’ve slipped you my mobile number. Ring me on any Sunday and I can make sure the gate is unlocked.” Her eyes were aglow, “I so want free fucking with you, and I won’t need to tell him.”
Then she hurried away. I climbed into my car, cursing myself for not saying anything. What could I have said? I couldn’t resolve my own mind. Through the rear mirror, I saw her climb to the patio and disappear.
Had this woman led me away from my declared path of righteousness?
Desmond’s permission, did that make it all right?
But Cyn’s last words rang in my ears, “I won’t need to tell him.” Was that adulterous enough for you, Dan Raymond.
But the touch of her, the feel of her. I could have access to that luscious body but—
Shared with countless men? Was that my level of need?
I reached into my top pocket. The tiny card showed her mobile number. Should I just tear it up and put it all down to experience. I knew the correct answer to that, didn’t I?
Angry with myself for my indecisiveness, I started the car and drove into the night, a totally confused man.
