Regrets

The anger and force with which he shouted, sent a chilling shiver down my spine. I knew instantly, he wasn't bluffing. But I couldn't conduct any kind of conversation across the street. And I certainly dare not go over to his house. So I ran inside, and looked up his telephone number, and rang him and within a couple of rings, he picked-up.

"Hello, 356412."

"Mr Granger. It's me. Mrs Trent. Tell me what you've done?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

"Tell me. Maybe I'll do what you want."

"Too late for that. But I'll be watching out for the fireworks when your husband arrives home."

And then the phone went dead. I was panic struck, and again, all I could think about doing was to ring Ralph's mobile. He said he'd need to come to the house, but that he'd park in the next road and walk to my house. So ten minutes later, as I saw him entering our drive, I rushed to the door and quickly let him inside.

He said he'd been parked near the end of our road, and had kept Mr Granger's house in view all the time, so there was no way he'd got out to post the photos. He then asked if me and my husband shared the same email address. I told him no, and that I didn't even know the password to get in to read my husbands emails. So off to the computer he went, and by using some combination of keys he brought up a window which was just a black screen. It reminded me of how computers looked in old films.

And then after about ten minutes with him tapping away at the keyboard and loads of mumbo-jumbo scrolling up the screen, he said, "Ah, got it. So who is Kelly?"

"Kelly. What do you mean?"

"His password is Kelly. Who do you know called Kelly?"

"The bastard!"

"I see. So who is she?"

"That's the girl he used to be going out with before we met."

"Well maybe this is just a carry-over password from way back then. Anyway, I think we ought to concentrate on the matter in hand."

So within seconds Garry's emails were coming into view, and Ralph said, "That's the one; it's taking ages to download, so it's got a big attachment."

And sure enough, as the email opened, there were the pictures. A close-up taken with a long lens, showing my face quite clearly as I looked to see what was coming in the road before pulling out of our drive. Just this one picture would have been enough to get me into trouble, but picture two showed Ralph reversing Garry's car back into the drive. And then the picture of me kissing Ralph. And next, Ralph following me into our house. And last, me blowing Ralph a kiss as he is leaving. Something I don't even remember doing.

"Oh god! Can you delete it so Garry doesn't see it?"

"Yes, that's no problem. And I'll put that bloke's email address into your Garry's blocked senders list."

"What will that do?"

"If he sends any more, it will automatically dump them in the junk folder and delete them."

"But won't Garry know?"

"It's a million to one shot that he's ever even looked into his blocked senders list. And even if he sees it, he'll assume it was put there by the spam filter."

"So I'll be safe from him sending any emails in future?"

"To here, yes. Unless that guy knows what we've done and uses a different email address to send from. The thing to do is nothing. Let him assume you have no idea how he intends to contact Garry."

"So I'm safe now?"

"Well I guess until he realises that you've managed to intercept that email. I guess at first he'll re-send it, but that won't work, it'll just get blocked and deleted. But I'd think after a few days, he'll either assume you and your husband have sorted it out, or he could try to contact him in person."

I really doubt he'd do that, he knows my Garry hasn't got any time for him, so I hope he'd fight shy of that. Well I guess he could post them to the shop, like he threatened before, but I'm sure he'll wait a few days to see what reaction his email brings."

I again kissed him and then said, "I am sober now."

He didn't take any more encouraging than that, and after starting with kisses, we were soon entangled in an embrace on the floor of our lounge. The kisses soon migrated from my lips to my breasts, which he'd previously exposed and had been up to now fondling with his hands. And as he began to suckle from nipple to nipple, this in itself would have raised the level of stimulation. But as his hands left my breasts, they were now under my skirt and working their way into my knickers via one of the leg holes. And as they made their way in, moving the gusset aside, his fingers found my pussy.

As we were no longer kissing, my mouth was unencumbered, so there was nothing to stifle my gasps, and sighs as his foreplay began to take over my body. I'm not sure just how much time he spent suckling on my breasts and fingering my pussy, but I do remember him saying, "Lift your bottom." And as he said it, I became aware of his hands on the waistband of my knickers. I lifted, and he slipped them from under my bottom and off my legs. He didn't need to tell me to open my legs; I did this as soon as the knickers left my feet. And as I looked to see his reaction, I saw him. Now standing, at a position somewhere down by my feet, he slowly lowered his trousers and underpants.

Now I'd said earlier that I wasn't in any position to be able to judge big from small in cock size. But as his underpants dropped, uncovering his cock, I let out a gasp. "Oh my god Ralph. That's a monster." And this time, I wasn't making it up to bolster his ego. It was fatter and longer than my Garry's or either of the other two cocks I'd seen, by a factor of at least one and a half times. I'm guessing it must be getting on for ten inches long.

As Ralph heard my exclamation, he smiled and said, "Don't worry. I won't force it up all in one go." Then as he lowered himself down into position, and his face came up to mine. He added softly, "Don't look so frightened. You'll soon get used to it. Just relax and don't tense-up. I'll take my time."

And that is precisely what he did. He resumed with kissing and in seconds our tongues were tangled around each others. His hands had resumed the manipulation of my breasts. And the big fat bulbous end of his cock was sliding on a gossamer film of pussy juices; back and forth from the front of my pussy slit, right back as far as my bottom. And as it passed each of my holes, it appeared to give just a little nudge. Not that it actually entered either hole, and in truth I can't say it was Ralph who was probing; I was so turned-on, it could have been me impaling myself. But regardless of whom it was that was reconnoitring the others sex, the effect this little peek-a-boo was having was unmistakable.

And even though the only intrusion my bottom had ever experienced had been my Garry's finger (which he liked to insert just prior to him cuming), it was now actively puckering up to the silky wet end of the cock each time it passed. But whereas the fat end would just balk at the entrance to my bottom, slowly but surely, each time it lingered at my pussy, it would nudge just a little deeper. And as my hole was now almost accepting the bulbous head with each nudge, the stretching was beginning to be painful. To the point, where I had to pull my mouth from his, and cry out. "Oh god Ralph. I'm sorry. It's too big for me."

He held me tightly to himself and said softly, "Just be patient. It'll go. Just don't rush it. You're pushing too hard."

Was it me pushing? I hadn't been sure. But now, as he said it, I knew he was right. He brought his lips back to mine, and we resumed our kissing. But although I cooperated, I was consciously making an all-out effort to control my heaving motion. And then without warning, as I felt his cock nudging into the entrance to my pussy, I felt the bulbous head plop inside. And once the head was in, the stretching sensation began to move up slowly inside me. I don't think it penetrated more than a few inches before he withdrew a little, and then pushed again.

I say he withdrew, because although I now admit I was probably the one forcing it in, it was definitely him who relieved the pressure when he sensed my pain was getting too intense. And after each momentary withdrawal, my following heave would drive it ever deeper. And within a few minutes, I was taking his full length; but not without pain. But as intense as the initial pain was, the exhilaration that accompanied each of the thrusts just sent my libido into hyper-space. So much so, that before he'd been riding me for a minute with his full length, my body shook as it was gripped by a spasm-like orgasm. It was so intense he had to pause his shafting until it had passed over me.

But once it passed and my body resumed its previous heaving motion, Ralph whispered in my ear, "Ok girl, let's see how grateful you are."

And that is what I did. Yes I know he was actively thrusting his monstrous length in and out of my pussy. But I was so hyped up, sexually and emotionally, with gratitude, I just went all out for it. Verbally and physically. And when we came, it was like nothing I'd ever experienced. And even though conscious of my writing and heaving long after he'd finished and pulled out, I was unable to control my bodily actions.

So after spending a good five minutes oozing gunge and uncontrollably making sighs and grunting, I eventually came down to earth, to hear him say, "I haven't got much time left, but if we be quick about it, we should just about be able to have one more before I leave." Then adding, "You can go on top this time, I think you've got a more pent up frustration to use up than me."

And as he was already lying on his back with that monstrous cock pointing rampantly skyward, I meekly complied. Crawling across the carpet, lifting my leg up and over his torso, and then carefully lowering myself down onto that glorious cock. And then from the body of this meek and ashamed housewife, emerged a sex hungry nymphomaniac. I literally went berserk, fucking him with every ounce of my strength and without any concern for my marital status, or even my pride. I can't even kid myself that I was fucking him as a reward or compensation for the help he'd given me. I was fucking, cos I wanted fucking, and it was as though only his monster size cock would do the job.

Well despite my best efforts, and even though I twice induced two more spasm-like orgasms; where, like the first time, they were so intense the fucking had to pause until they had passed over me. It wasn't until some fifteen or so minutes later, that I managed to make him cum. And by then, his coming triggered my third orgasm. And what an orgasm. I writhed around grinding my pussy down onto his cock, whilst the juices didn't just ooze from me, they literally gushed. And I even continued for some minutes after his cock had gone soft and slipped out. Sliding my crotch up his torso and as my pussy poured out a river of gunge; I cupped his face and smothered him with kisses.

It was only when I came down, that the reality of the grossness of my performance hit me. The carpet was a mess. I was a mess. And more humiliating for me, poor Ralph was a mess. The only saving grace was, that after that first fuck, and whilst he'd been watching my embarrassing display. He'd stripped himself naked. And so although he was covered in my sticky juices, his clothes were not.

Well after such a wanton performance, I instantly reverted back to my normal self. And now seeing what depths I'd sunk to, I was not just embarrassed, I was mortified. But Ralph wasn't a bit fazed; he got to his feet and said, "Well you certainly come out of your shell once the right buttons are pushed." I didn't reply, but just grabbed my skirt and held it up to myself to provide some cover. He continued, "Don't look so sheepish. That was some fuck you just gave. I told you you'd soon get accustomed to the size." Then with just a few seconds pause, "Mind you. Your husbands cock will never be enough from now on." And then adding after another little pause, "Still, if you're ever in need of a little extra size to bring yourself off, you know our supermarket's motto."

By now, I was coming to terms with my situation and I had been listening to him. But this last part, I couldn't quite understand. I knew he worked as a security guard at Morrisons, but not what their motto was. But before I found the words to ask him, I guess my look asked for me, and he said, "More of what matters. And judging by what you've just shown me. As far as you're concerned, a good hard fucking is what matters to you. Come on now, I'm only kidding you. Anyway, it's time I was on my way. Is it ok if I go use your shower? The wife'll know I've been up to no good if she gets a whiff of this lot."

"Yes, yes. It's the door at the top of the stairs. Oh, and there's towels in the airing cupboard."

So as soon as he was in my bathroom, I dashed up to my bedroom and found out some fresh clothes to wear. And then after doing a rudimentary clean-up using my original clothes as cleaning cloths, I dressed and went down to wait for Ralph to finish his shower. And the longer I waited, the more nervous I got. It wasn't even as if he'd taken much longer in the shower, than it had taken me to do my makeshift job of cleaning myself up. But long time or not, when he appeared back in my lounge, I was a bundle of nerves and I even struggled to lift my face and look him in the eye.

He obviously noticed my shyness, and his first words were, "It's not that bad. I know you're probably thinking hell is going to open up and devour you for your wickedness. But believe me, on wickedness scale, that little episode of ours wouldn't even get you onto the bottom rung of the ladder. Well I'd better get gone, but if his nibs across the road gives you any trouble, just give me a call. And on the other score, you know, in a week or twos time, when the ache in your pussy gets too much to bear, same thing; give me a call and I'll come and sort it." And then he approached me, bringing his hands up to cup my face. I presumed, to kiss me. But as soon as I suspected his intention, I backed away, turning my face to the side. "Oh come on. I don't deserve the cold shoulder treatment. Ok, I'll go. But if things don't work out with your neighbour, and you end up calling for my help; then I'll make you pay for that snub. Ok, if that's it, I'll go."

And that is what he did.

I then spent all the rest of the afternoon cleaning the carpet and making sure there were no traces of me and Ralph's activities for my husband to find when he returned home.

So was that the last I saw of Ralph?

Did my neighbour give up trying to send the pictures to my husband?

I guess I'll have to finish this story another time, that is if enough people email to show there is sufficient interest in a part two.