That Most Decadent Summer

He phoned a day or so later. We chatted, he again suggested lunch or dinner and again I refused.

"We could just have a quick shag instead," he said laughing.

"I don't do quick shags."

"Oh right, how about a longer one then?"

"Oh piss off you randy sod," I smiled.

The next day I got a text from him. It simply said. 'I'll be in Casswells at 1.00, like to join me?"

I text back.

'I don't do lunch.'

'Dinner then, tonight?'

'I don't do dinner either with randy buggers.'

'Ok I'll just have to settle for a long shag then,' came back almost instantly.

I typed. 'Do what I said on the phone yesterday, piss off."

'Oooooo u hard woman, bye.'

Amanda and I were booked to have dinner with the MD and Marketing Director of a fairly new client. To save her going home to Docklands and then coming back to the West End where we were dining, she came home with me to shower and change.

As I drove towards Highgate, we chatted easily and the conversation moved round to the previous week. We hadn't seen much of each other since then and hadn't spoken at all about that amazing evening.

After hedging round the issue for a while, she said.

"How do you feel about what we did now Clare?"

I had, of course thought of little else, well other than Kevin trying to pull me I suppose.

"I'm ok with it luv. And you?"

"I'm not so sure to be honest."

"Oh didn't you enjoy it?" I asked looking across the small cabin of the Porsche, which Charles had bought me for my fortieth birthday.

She was almost lying down on the low slung seat and that had caused her skirt to ride up. At the same time, it looked as though one more button than should be was undone on her white blouse. The long expanse of her bare legs and the deep cleavage made me gulp.

"Yes Clare I enjoyed the sex, but I'm not sure I can handle the emotional repercussions."

"Yes, I struggle with that, but I think I have come to terms with it."

"I am trying and I'll continue working on it," she was saying as we walked from the car to my front door.

"You remember where everything is, don't you?" I said as I showed her to the guest bedroom which was across the first floor landing to mine.

"I remember it very well," she said smiling as we both looked at the bed where we had made such spectacular love just a week ago."

I was sitting at my dressing table naked when there was a tap on the door.

"Clare," Mandy said.

I slipped into a shorty silk robe, which I held together rather than tying the belt and opened the door. My heart pounded. Amanda was standing there with a large bath towel wrapped round her. My immediate thought was very rude, my second was, 'I've seen her like that before.'!

"They aren't coming, they have an emergency," she said, disappointing me in two ways.

"Oh fuck," slipped from my mouth.

"That's precisely what I thought," she replied.

Pausing, I wondered whether her knocking on my door in just the towel was a come on from her. I smiled. "What, you've come to terms with it then have you?"

"Huh, what do you mean?"

"Well when they said they weren't coming and your first thought was fuck, you must have come to terms with what we did."

She laughed. "I didn't mean that when I said it."

"I know, but why not come in?" I asked opening the door wide as my pulse raced with anticipation. Was I going too far, was I pushing things, was I expecting too much? On the other hand my mixed up mind was wondering if this was her making a statement, issuing an invitation and, in effect, propositioning me? What a convoluted world girl with girl sex can be?

We stared at each other. It was as if we were transfixed and it seemed as if we stood there for an age.

"I really don't know." She said softly. "What about Charles and the kids?"

"Well Charles won't be home for hours and you know the kids are at school." I replied putting the ball firmly back into her court.

"You want me to?" She whispered.

"Yes, Mandy, I do, please come in," I said suddenly plucking up courage and letting go of the dressing robe. It fell apart just getting caught on the tips of my hardened nipples.

I saw the look come onto her face that I saw so often in business. Amanda takes some time to reach a decision for she is probably over-analytical. She reviews everything before coming to a conclusion, but when she does she implements it instantly. That's when one sees the determined expression on her face. And that was there as she walked into my bedroom. I turned and shut the door then turned again to face her. That is when I realised the decision she had reached.

"Ok Clare, now I'm in, I guess I don't need this do I?" She said, loosening the towel and letting it fall from her voluptuous body.

"No darling, you don't," I whispered.

We fell into each other's arms and she slid the robe off me before pulling me towards my bed. She was playing much more of a participatory role this time. And she did that for the next two hours when we made blissful and energetic love together.

This time there was little hesitation, few inhibitions and hardly any restrictions. This time the lovemaking was mutual.

This time we sucked each other's nipples and fed our mouths on the other's breasts.

This time we fingered each other to early climaxes.

This time we gave each other multiple orgasms.

This time, though, we still for some reason didn't go down on each other. Were we saving that for another time I wondered as I said goodbye to her when her cab arrived?

****

"You bastard," I fumed at Charles a couple of weeks later.

"It can't be helped, Clare, it's business," he replied with the calm coolness that had once attracted me, but which I now found infuriating.

It was our wedding anniversary and we were supposed to be going to the Villa d'este overlooking Lake Como in Italy for a few days of unashamed luxury and, hopefully lots of sex. We needed to reaffirm our relationship in that respect for lately it had been woeful.

Charles had changed the date of departure once, because of work problems, so that we were due to fly on the day of our anniversary instead of the day before it. We were packed and the car was on its way when Charles took a series of calls. That's when he told me that he had to go to New York that afternoon.

"Oh fuck off then," I had said as I stormed upstairs and shut myself in the bedroom.

"I'm off then," he called up the stairs. I didn't reply.

"Happy anniversary," Kevin said down the phone when I answered my mobile an hour or so later.

We had chatted on the phone probably every other day for the past few weeks. Maybe I should have stopped him? Possibly I was letting myself be steered into potentially dangerous waters. But it helped my loneliness and I began to look forward to his calls and texts. I was being wooed, I knew that as well as I knew that I should have nipped it in the bud. But I found that quite exciting. Not just because it was my secret and that there was an underlying feeling of sexual tension whenever we spoke. It wasn't simply because we flirted and I was so unused to that, nor was it due to me having such an obvious admirer, all women must like that. It also wasn't just due to my loneliness or my lack of good sex with my husband. No it was more than that I realised when I sat and tried to analyse why I didn't stop him. And what I realised, I'm not sure I liked. The real buzz, I worked out, came from the fact that the three of us were so connected, we'd had such wonderful sex in the past and we knew each other so well. The ultimate turn on, though, I had to admit was that I was now making love to his ex wife.

"Thanks," I replied.

"Well you could sound happy, presumably the legal eagle has bought you a massive diamond and is taking you somewhere special."

"Yeah right," I said in a flat, non-commital tone."

"You ok?"

"No," I responded giving him my honest opinion.

"What's up? He hasn't left you in the lurch on your wedding anniversary has he?"

"Yep."

I went on to explain that Charles had gone to New York and told Kevin of the now aborted plans for the Villa d'este.

"Bloody hell, he can be such a prick can't he?"

"I couldn't comment Kev."

"No, but you can think. Kids away?"

"Yes."

"You all alone?"

"Yes why?"

"I'll be there in an hour," he replied cutting the connection.

I'd already had a couple of vodkas as I stormed inside about my bastard husband. With this news being thrust on me, I felt another was needed. Luckily I had a couple of business calls that took some time so I didn't overdo the vodka nor did I have much time to think about Kevin's impending arrival.

I called Amanda and told her that Charles and I weren't going and we swapped some nasty words about what a sod he was.

"I would come over, luv," she said. "But as you know I am in Edinburgh on that client induction for RBS."

"Oh yes, of course. That's ok Mands, I'll be ok."

"You would be more Ok if I was there though wouldn't you?"

"Yes darling, you know that."

"It was amazing wasn't it?"

"It was fantastic," I said recalling the intense sensations and marvellous experiences of that evening in my bed with Amanda. 'God I could do with that again now,' I thought to myself as that familiar warmth started in the pit of my stomach and slowly spread all over my pussy and upwards into my breasts.

"I had better go," Amanda said. "I'm in too public a place to hold this sort of chat."

"And what sort of chat is that, Mandy?"

She laughed. "If your body is reacting to the thoughts of that time in any way that mine is, then you'll know full well what I mean."

"Yes," I whispered as unconsciously, I think, I ran my fingertips across my chest noting with a degree of satisfaction that my nipples had hardened completely. "Maybe you can call later and we can finish off what we have started."

"God Clare, I so want to, but every minute from now until ten tonight is tied up with meetings and Sara is flying up this evening for the weekend."

"Mmmm, pity, it's a long time since I've had phone sex."

"Fuck off lovely, I'll be back soon and we can have real sex."

Waiting for Kevin to arrive did make me nervous. I was sexually aroused from talking to his ex wife and I was relaxed from the vodkas. I was looking forward to seeing him and I was absolutely and totally pissed off with my husband. I was in my house alone and nobody would interrupt us until at the earliest tomorrow lunchtime when the cleaning lady would arrive.

Smiling as I checked myself in the mirror, I realised that the circumstances were perfect for adultery; opportunity, motive and time. 'God what a conniving bitch I can be,' I thought.

Although it seemed an age ago, I had got ready to travel business class to Milan on BA. I'd had my hair done especially for it the evening before. I wear it so it comes half way down my neck and it's in a bob style, lots on top shorter at the back and sides. It's long at the front with a thick wave that is supposed to bisect my forehead and tuck behind my left ear. My real hair colour has always been near, but not quite, blonde so, as I have aged and more and more grey hairs have appeared, I have it lightened and toned a little so it is now, what they call, strawberry blonde. I was wearing make up and I'd had both a manicure and pedicure the previous day, with all my nails being painted a deep red, almost brown.

I was wearing a top which was a bit like a man's vest really. It was black, quite thin and fitted me tightly enough to show off my shape, but not so much that it was moulded tightly to each boob. It had a scooped front and straps a couple of inches thick, thus when I leaned forward my b cup boobies, which were pushed into a tight, nearly half cup black bra, formed a neat cleavage. I wore the 'vest' outside the waist of my trousers. I was wearing a white, linen trouser suit. It had cropped trousers which were fashionably hipster so if I stretched I showed, probably rather more of my stomach than a forty five year old should flash, but then it was flat and tanned. I was wearing black, strappy, mid-height heeled sandals and, of course, no tights. I had taken the jacket off earlier, but as I saw Kevin's other car, his Porsche pulling up outside, I slipped it back on; 'Showing too much flesh might give the wrong impression,' I thought, wondering just what the wrong impression might be today?

"Kevin," I called as he got out the car."

"Oh hi, that's some greeting," he smiled waving back.

"Take it round the back and park it across the garage, save the fine," I told him. I actually didn't want such a conspicuous car parked outside my house, for who knows how long.

I went to the back door and wandered through that and down the sixty feet or so of landscaped garden, which really is a luxury so close to Central London. He came through the gate at the end, carrying two large, plastic bags.

"Hi again."

"Hello Kevin, what the hell have you got there?"

"Provisions, you'll see."

He unloaded the bags when we got into the kitchen. I was amazed.

There was two bottles of champagne, two of white wine, a whole, cooked salmon, salad, raspberries, French bread, cakes and pastries and loads of other bits and pieces.

"Ma'am," he said in a pretty awful American accent. "Your anniversary lunch has arrived."

I laughed.

"You're crazy and there's so much."

"I brought enough in case you wanted me to stay for dinner."

"You are crazy, I haven't even invited you to my home, let alone lunch or dinner."

"You won't send me away surely?"

"No, of course not it's very thoughtful of you," I replied, pushing the wave of hair, which had fallen across my forehead away from my eyes.

"Not that thoughtful," he went moving closer to me.

I was standing in the corner of the kitchen, leaning against the black, granite topped work surfaces, so I couldn't move away as he approached. Did I want to move away? I wondered as he stood very close, so close that I could smell his after shave.

Nervously, I replied. "Well it looks as if you have remembered everything."

He put one arm alongside me and placed his hand on the worksurface so that our bodies were almost touching and our faces were only inches apart.

He grinned as he said softly. "Actually Clare, I forgot the breakfast, but was sure you could rustle up some eggs and toast."

"You cheeky sod," I managed to say, just before he moved his hand from the granite, put his arm round me and pulled me closer to him.

"Well maybe not breakfast ma'am, but what would Missus Whittaker say if I tried to kiss her"

Although things had been building up between us and despite me allowing him in the house again, I was still surprised. I know I shouldn't have been for our calls and texts had been getting more and more flirty, I knew he wanted to have sex with me and I had done little recently, other than refuse to see him, to alter that.

On top of that, I was beginning to acknowledge a number of things. I needed more excitement in my life, my bisexual side had reared its head with Amanda in the most dramatic fashion and my marriage, if I was truthful, had failed. Ok we would probably stay together for the kids, but not for us; I no longer loved Charles and, if I was honest, I didn't even fancy him much. I recognised that also I didn't love Kevin, but by God I did fancy him! Most interestingly, but totally incomprehensibly I also wanted that odd buzz from going with both him and Amanda. What the hell did that say about me?

"Missus Whittaker, rarely eats breakfast," I said softly as Kevin moved closer and stood between my slightly parted legs.

"But does she allow kisses?" He asked applying more pressure on my back.

Looking into each other's eyes, it was like a movie for a few moments. Slowly, almost imperceptibly our faces moved towards the other. They moved until his lips were almost touching mine and his eyes were so close they became a little blurred. I saw his mouth open and his eyes half close, I think. He slid his tongue slightly past his lips and then filled the gap between us. Surprisingly, oddly and most erotically he didn't kiss me. Instead he licked all the way along the bottom of my top lip and then along the top of my lower one, which I unconsciously let drop a little. I closed my eyes taking in every second of the extraordinarily exciting sensations I was experiencing by having my lips licked. The only thought in my mind as Kevin pulled my body against his and pressed his stomach against mine was. 'Charles would never do anything as tenderly erotic as this.'

As I felt him against me, as our bodies came into contact from our lips to our toes, so I had a surge of doubt and worry.

'What the hell am I doing? I'm married, I have children and responsibilities. I am screwing a woman, my best friend and business partner and now I'm about to be screwed by her ex husband. Have I no shame, morals or sexual standards? The clear answer was no, not now. I may have had once, but they had vanished and now I was becoming a sexual buzz junky.'

As he at last kissed me, I gave in. Any resistance I may have had vanished, I capitulated, I became putty in his hands, I was his; I knew it and he knew it. He had been priming me for ages and now he was about to get his reward, or was it my reward? I didn't know and didn't care. All that seemed to matter was satisfying the sexual need that the combination of his ex wife, my best friend and he had built up in me.

The kiss was deep. It was probing and enquiring; it asked questions and made demands. My responses tried to answer those questions and agree to those demands. Our mouths were wide open, our tongues were searching in the other's mouth, our lips were squirming and we were slurping and, inadvertently, but inevitably, exchanging spittle.

Our arms went round the other and our hands, urgently almost frantically roamed, increasingly adventurously over the other's body. Face, hair, neck, shoulders and back, at first. But then, as the passion increased in line with our confidence, they became bolder. His found my breasts, they squeezed my bum and I grabbed his buttocks. All the time he was pressing himself against me: against my breasts, against my tummy, against my legs, between my legs and, wonderfully and so excitingly, against my mound.

He was now fully erect. Somehow he had managed to untangle it from his underwear and had let it rear so majestically and rampantly right up the centre of my stomach. The delicious thickness that I remembered so clearly from all those years ago pressed hard against me. It effortlessly it seemed found my clit and he squirmed against that. The feelings were exquisite and the sensations were amazing.

He started to dry fuck me outside my trousers and I moved in time with his thrusts and surges. He yanked my jacket off and pushed my vest up without waiting or asking. He took it as his right and for granted, which it was. I wanted to bare my breasts for him, I wanted his hands and mouth on my flesh, on my so sensitive breasts and nipples. Breaking the kiss and looking him right in the eye I reached down, found the hem of the vest and in one quick movement pulled it up, over my head and off.

"Fuck me, you sexy little bitch," he groaned as his mouth found my bloated nipple inside my bra and sucked, quite hard.

He slid both his hands simultaneously into the diaphanous, ridiculously flimsy, lace bra. Without any ceremony he yanked my tits out from its restraining cover and fed his mouth on my engorged nipples. I could feel myself starting to cum. It felt great. I wanted to cum, I wanted Kevin to make me cum, just as his ex wife had made me cum by lying on top of me between my spreaded legs, which were wrapped around her waist.

"Oh yes." I groaned, pulling his head more firmly against my breasts.