Infidelity and Tragedy

"Mmmm, for a young guy, you sure know how to fuck." she whispered after a while. "Jeeez this is good."

It took me a while to finish the second time; Claire laid back with her eyes closed and a gracious smile as I pounded away at her. Her hands roamed both our bodies, she would tweak her own nipples and then find mine; then her hand would wander down and caress my balls and the base of my cock. My eyes were mostly glued to her pussy; I liked her trimmed pubic hair and her bald lips below. I liked the way her pink lips bulged as I pulled my cock out and then faced inwards as I pushed it back in again, the condom was slick and slippery with her juices. Eventually I managed to cum just as my knees were about to give out on the carpet below. Placing one foot on the floor and her other leg around my buttocks, Claire rocked carefully with me until I cum. I then leaned back on my haunches to give my knees a rest.

"You poor boy." Claire mocked as she slipped down beside on the floor and gently rolled the condom from my cock.

"Let me get rid of this for you." she said while shaking my flagging cock. "It's been very nice to meet you." she added humorously, then got up and headed for the bathroom.

Claire began to dress when she returned, I watched from the couch as she donned her underwear, jeans, top and lastly her shoes. She looked down at me and grinned.

"Some night eh? We'll have to do this again sometime soon." she said leaning over and kissing me on the cheek.

Seconds later she was gone.

I didn't sleep much that night as I was full of emotions. I had enjoyed the sex tremendously, taking turns and watching the others. I had never met anyone quite like Claire before, for one it was the older woman thing, but it was also the confidence in which she demanded sex and took what she wanted. She gave the best blowjobs I'd ever encountered and then swallowed my load without spilling much more than a drop. On the other side of the coin, I had just cheated on Libby, and Claire had been unfaithful to her husband. What sort of wife did things like that? I couldn't imagine any other married woman I knew personally doing that sort of thing. While it was the most exciting sex I'd ever had, there was something not quite right with the whole thing.

My girlfriend Libby arrived around noon the next day; she worked at one of the local radio stations as a sound technician. She loved the job, but on the downside she worked shifts, which is why she wasn't there to greet me the night before. Now Libby is the exact opposite of Claire in many ways, but I don't want that to sound condescending. Libby is a pretty girl of thin build with just enough meat on her to nicely fill a pair of jeans or a pair of panties. She is intelligent but quiet in nature. When it came to sex, she enjoys it immensely, but to her it's a private act and not to be discussed or joked about anywhere outside of the bedroom. In saying that, she is also very affectionate even when in public. She manages to separate affection and sex with ease, not like most males, me included.

So that morning, Libby arrives and is all over me like a rash, my rash was of pure guilt. Luckily, there were a few other people there also, so l was sort of lucky not to have been dragged off into the bedroom for a more informal greeting. Steve and Allan just grinned at my predicament. I took some comfort in the fact that Steve's girlfriend Kim was there too, but I didn't see any guilt. As for Allan, well he just played the field. He was the best looking out of the three of us and had the gift of the gab; the opposite sex just seemed to lie down at his feet at a quick hello. That night, Libby stayed the night after making sure the bedroom door was locked; then made love to me gently and tenderly, very much unlike the night before.

Over the next few work days, I knocked off work early using time in lieu for additional hours worked while on the training course. On the second day, there was a knock on the door and seconds later Claire was inside. We sat and chatted for awhile and then she dropped another bombshell.

"Wanna fuck?" she asked casually.

Now, over the last few days, I'd decided that I didn't really want to get involved in this. The alarm bells had been ringing, and now they were clanging loudly.

"Look Claire, I'm actually dating someone. While I had fun the other night, I don't know that this is such a good idea."

She smiled mischievously, "It's okay, no one will know. And I want to do you; I think you're a great little lover with a nice cock."

Claire then dealt me a second lesson as I'd never been seduced before, no one ever had to. But she was soon all over me, and not long after, she had my cock in her mouth and I wasn't going anywhere. She had me on the verge of filling her mouth; then slipped a condom on me in a flash, her skirt was soon up and her panties pulled to one side as she lowered herself on to me. She rode me as she slipped out of her clothes; then fucked what little sense I still had out of me.

Afterwards, we lay contently on the couch with her in my arms. Again the guilt flowed through me, and I was inquisitive about her situation with her husband.

"Why do you do this? I asked her.

She hesitated before answering, "Because I need more sex than my husband can give me. I just love it and can't get enough of it."

"Does he know about your other lovers?"

"No. Look, if this is going to be the Spanish inquisition, I'll just leave."

"No, I don't want you to go. I just want to understand what's going on." I replied.

"Why, most guys are quite happy to fuck me without the questions?"

"Because I like you, and I care about you." I said truthfully

Claire raised her head to mine and looked at me with a smile, "Thank you for caring, but I'm okay. If you really want to know, I'm a sex addict. I like sex a couple of times a day if I can get it, my husband just can't manage it. I crave multiple orgasms, not big ones but lots of little ones. I play safe with condoms and only do it with people I like. I like you a lot but you ask too many questions, but seeing as you fuck me so good, I might just overlook that."

"Have you ever got medical help or anything?"

"Several times, but I go through patches like this sometimes where nothing helps. So you might have to put up with me for a while. Meeting you guys was a godsend, three nice cocks all in one place. What more could a nice little nymphomaniac like me ask for. Taking all three of you on the other night was naughty but most enjoyable."

"I laughed, "Yeah, I sort of enjoyed it too, never had an orgy before."

We chatted for awhile and then Claire headed back to her own apartment. An hour later, Steve arrived home. He stuck his nose in the air and grinned.

"You dirty lucky bastard, Claire's been here, I can smell the sex and her perfume. Can't wait to tell Allan. He'll be jealous he wasn't here to help."

Claire again arrived the next day not long after I got home. To be honest, I would've rather talked than had sex, but she now knew how to push my buttons and I was easy meat. Afterwards, we again sat around and talked. By now I really liked her, not only for the sex, but as a person. She was really nice and easy to talk to. On the Friday night, she turned up at our door quite late and took the three of us on again. Without going into great detail, it was very much like the first time, and she then disappeared out our door in the early hours leaving the three of us in an exhausted state.

The next morning I headed down in the lift towards the car park and was greeted with half a dozen or more police cars, watchful uniformed police and a fair number of curious onlookers. I spotted old Tom, the building caretaker hovering close by and wandered over to him.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Someone got fucking murdered."

"Who? Anyone we know?" I asked.

"Yeah, woman up on the third floor. Claire Mathers. Seems her old man found out she'd fucking around and strangled her last night when she came home. Then he rang the cops and waited until they arrived. He showed them the body and then confessed to killing her." Tom sighed, "Fuck, you never know what goes on around you."

I can remember feeling sick as the implications sunk in. I went back upstairs and told the others and we all sat around in a state of shock. None of us heard the commotion when the cops arrived in the early hours, but our bedrooms are at the rear of the apartment and we're kind of used to sirens during the night. Of course all of the excuses started to appear, like it wasn't really our fault. But this hit me hard; of course it was our fault, at least to some degree. I liked Claire, she was a genuinely a really nice person who had a problem, one which we were quite happy to exploit. If we had sent her packing when she first arrived last night, she would probably be alive and smiling instead, of lying dead on a cold slab in the local morgue.

I suddenly wanted to be alone, away from Steve and Allan and their excuses. I needed solitude to get my thoughts around what had happened. Libby found me an hour later sitting on embankment looking out to sea. It was a place we often came to on a summer's day, sometimes just to sit and talk or demolish a hamburger or two.

One thing about Libby is that she is very perceptive, especially where I'm involved. I'm like a big open book she would often tell me. She plonked herself down beside me and nestled in close out of the breeze. She looked up at me with her big eyes and noticed my mood, and then asked what was up? I just blurted the whole thing out. She soon moved away and turned to face me as I told my story, the look of anguish in her face plain to see. She waited until I finished and looked deep into my eyes.

"You're telling that you all screwed her last night and a couple of times before that? And then you sent her home to her husband so that he could kill her?"

I nodded; it was all I could bring myself to do.

Her reaction was swift and direct.

"You bastards, you useless bastards. How could you ever do a thing like that?" she cried getting to her feet. "I thought I knew you Gav, but now I fucking hate you."

With that, Libby walked away. Thing was I couldn't argue, I was a bastard and a useless one at that. For the next day or so I kept to myself as I brooded away at myself, not with pity, but with well deserved anger. It was me that cared, who talked to her about what was going on, but didn't have the guts to do anything about it.

Claire's funeral was a couple of days later; I snuck into the church and sat in the back row. It was an extremely profound few minutes for me, to see her family and friends say their last goodbye was a saddening experience. That next afternoon, I found myself in the car park where Libby worked, she found me sitting on the bonnet of her old Renault. She stopped and looked at me when she saw me, and I suppose that it took a bit of courage for her to come closer.

"What do you want?" she asked.

I looked up at her with sad eyes, "I need someone to hold me."

"Does it have to be me?" she asked.

"No, but I want it to be you."

For what seemed like an eternity, Libby stood and looked at me, and then to my great relief, stepped close and put her arms around me. We held each other tight, but not as lovers, but as friends. Libby took me home that afternoon, and we sat in her lounge floor for hours talking. I told her all about Claire, not about the sex, but about her problem and how I tried to confide in and help her. I told her what a nice person she was, how she laughed and smiled. Libby just listened and took it all in, that night I stayed in her bed, both fully clothed but arm in arm. Sex was the last thing either of us was interested in.

It's a funny thing really, but all this brought me closer to Libby, and I think Libby to me. Libby tells me that I'm a far better person now, and I think she's right. We became lovers again and have been together for many years since. We eventually married and became great soul mates. But I often think of Claire and consider how unfortunate the whole episode was, and how bad sex can turn into tragedy. For me, there will only be one lady in my life, and I will ensure that I keep her happy to the very best of my ability.

So now you know my story and of my demon, and if there is one thing I could change in my life, it would be to have Claire's smiling face in front me again. For all her faults, she was someone who very much deserved to be on this earth.

A footnote from Libby

I'm glad that Gav told his story; although it's one I'm well versed in. But now that I've read it, I have to acknowledge a little guilt on my part. If the thing with Claire hadn't happened, I doubt whether Gav and I would be together today. I'd be reasonably confident that we would've eventually parted our ways and led very different lives. At the time we got back together, I had no inkling that it would last forever. So, I owe her at least something.

Most females, young or old, would consider that there is nothing worse than an unfaithful man. It's bad enough when you're single; and even worse when you're married. When I walked away from Gav that day after he told me about Claire, I had no intention of having anything to do with him again. But when he appeared on my car a few days later and asked to be held, my heart went out to him. It was like this whole facade had been stripped away and here was this new man, not the yob that I thought and knew him to be. He did a lot of growing up in a short period of time, and he kinda sneaked back into my heart with ease.

I have to admit that I struggled with the sex thing with Gav and Claire; for I've never had an interest in casual sex or multiple partners. For me, sex is about the person not the act. I've had other lovers before Gav and I met, but they were boys I actually cared for and had an ongoing relationship with. But I understand what men are like, their natural attraction to sex, and the desire to try things new, even though it's never an excuse to hurt people.

I know that Gav sometimes thinks back to Claire, he has a certain far away manner that I seem to be able to tap into. I then like nothing better than curl up into his lap, kiss him on the forehead and hold him tight. For he is my man and I love him dearly, not only for his past, but also our future which I have no doubt will be worth living.

So, thank you for taking the time to read Gav's story, and I hope you may learn something from this, as we surely have.