Saturday's Fuck

She did not know what she thought of Peter's suggestions. They were colleagues and occasional lovers. Having met at an office party where they had kissed furtively their little affair had developed into a serious hunger for each other. The only problem was time. Today however Claire had plenty of time as she pulled up to his house.

Having been married for five years she still loved her husband. But he had never said what Peter had. He had never told her of his hunger or said she would be 'his'.

She was already wet for the thought of what Peter had suggested they do today. It had been a long drive between the two small rural English villages they lived in.

Claire was a journalist, athletically built, tanned with beautiful breast, although she found them too small.

On the drive over she had thought about her husband. She was 'happily' married but wanted more sexually. The other night as her husband thrust his hard cock into her her mind wandered. She was enjoying it but at these times half of her enjoyed it because she thought of what she really wanted. She imagined him suddenly puling out his penis and looking into her eyes.

"You little bitch," he'd say in a gasp as he grabbed her face, crushing her cheeks and, moving his body over hers, forcing his cock over her lips, nudging her nose and then penetrating her mouth.

She imagined how, her nostrils full of his heavy scent, she would gag slightly as he forced his cock too deep into her mouth.

"Slut. Don't pull away," he would order. But of course he wouldn't and that thought would always stop her from reaching her peak as the real husband grunted away on top of her.

Persisting she would imagine him pulling his cock from her mouth and smearing his pre-come and her saliva across her face before nudging his body further up the bed, straddling her face and placing his hairy balls over her mouth.

"Lick it. Lick it all," he said, pressing down and writhing over her so that as her tongue snaked out she kissed and licked his balls, the base of his shaft and even dipped over and onto his anus.

As she fought for breath and was engulfed by his body, his odour, she imagined herself orgasming. But that is all it was. Imagination and a deep frustration.

That is what Peter offered. A chance to turn that into reality. He had told her he wanted to do everything. No rules. No taboo.

What did that mean? To her it could mean a little bit of light bondage with a blindfold. It could also mean being taken by two men at the same time and filled with their come. She hoped it meant both of those, and a great deal more besides.

Her drive had also involved a bizarre stop which she still was not sure how she felt about. With her emotions already raw with the thoughts of lust and betrayal whipping through her Peter's final command to her before she had set off had left her feeling fearful and excited.

Pulling into a wooded area approximately half way between their homes she pulled to a stop underneath the spreading branches of an oak. As per his orders she was already wearing no knickers and a short skirt. To get past her husband she had worn knickers and a long skirt at home that morning and changed some miles down the road. Resting her hands on the steering wheel for a moment she thought about what Peter had said.

"When you stop keep the engine running. Lock the doors. Then Put your feet on either side of the wheel - if that is too hard, move to the passenger side and put them up with your feet about half a metre apart.

"Then hike up your dress so your pussy is exposed. Keep your arse on the seat but edge forward enough so you have easy access to your pussy."

She did it and then, as her had told her, 'fingered' herself. Not masturbating, but pushing in first one, then two, then three fingers. Finally she had all the fingers of her right hand shoved into her.

"Now look at yourself. Love the feel of your fingers inside. Think how beautiful you are. Your pink flesh and slight-brown pussy lips."

Slowly moving backwards and forwards she thought of what he had said. "You are beautiful. never forget that. Whether with me or your husband, or on your own, you are beautiful. Feel how beautiful you are."

Biting her lip she gently built up the pace of her thrust until she was moving her whole body with the movement.

Building toward an orgasm she suddenly stopped. "Save your orgasm, this once, for me," he had said.

Gasping with the sheer mental effort of not continuing she slowly pulled her arm away, clutching the steering wheel with her free hand.

Then she brought the hand up to her face, as he had said she must, and examined the sheen of juices which covered her digits.

As she did so she looked up for the first time since parking up. Some way off, about 20 feet, stood a man. He was watching her. Because of the dashboard he could not have seen much of her but from what he could see it was obvious what she had been up to. He smiled at her. Blushing she began to reach for the gear stick, to hit it into reverse and get the hell out of there. But as she did so she remembered Peter's final instruction. "Before you go, lick your finger and spread your juices down your face, over your chin and under you top onto your left breast."

Looking at the man and judging he was not about to move, she licked her fingers one by one and then did as Peter told her. The man's smile vanished. He began to walk cautiously forward and, with that, Claire put the car into gear and sped off out of the parking area.

Fifteen minutes later she parked outside his house. Excited about what might be about to happen. She knew Peter was about to surprise her with something. She hoped she could surprise him back. She had, after all, been shopping before she set off.