A Faker's Progress Pt. 01

'Oh God, I need you inside me.' She levered herself up off the armchair and onto the floor where she spread herself out on the sheepskin rug. I knelt between her legs and lowered myself down so that my cock was poised to take her. She grasped hold of my cock and drew it the rest of the way towards her, before rubbing it over her slit, up to her clitoris and then back down to her opening. I could feel her wetness spreading over her little lips as she did this. Then she stopped the movement. 'Take me now', she said in a hushed tone.

I pressed forward and sank into her. It was blissful. She was ready, she was wet, and she was open. I went straight in up to the full depth in her. It felt amazing to be surrounded by the soft warmth of her cunt. She gave a little gasp as I entered and another as I reached my full extent. I hadn't felt quite so hard and erect for a long while. It was partly the passion and the urgency of the situation and also, partly, the forbidden nature of our fucking, with her husband asleep just upstairs. I was thankful now that he had drunk so much during the evening.

'Fuck me, I want to feel you take me.'

I began to thrust into her, looking at her face and into her eyes as I did so. I varied the way I penetrated her, slow and gentle mixed with fast and furious, to the full depth contrasting with just a couple of inches to tease her most sensitive parts. She moaned incessantly, gasping at my every thrust. She had screwed her eyes tight shut, as if to focus all her attention on what was happening inside her. Then suddenly, she opened her eyes wide and looked straight at me. She must have sensed that I was reaching my peak.

'Oh God, cum in me, I want to watch you as you cum in me.'

I hardly needed more of an invitation. Another couple of thrusts and I felt my cum surging up through my cock. I sank as deeply as I could into her and felt the spasms as my sperm spurted out of me and into her. She kissed me all over my face and neck.

'Oh thank you, thank you, thank you...'

It seemed strange to hear her utter such heartfelt words of gratitude but I guessed it was the result of being starved of both affection and physical love for a long time. For my part, I too drained and in desperate need of recovering my breath to say anything so I simply put a finger to her lips as if to hush her. I rolled off her and pulled her close to me so that we were lying on our sides, her head rested on my shoulder. I held her tight and kissed her hair.

*****

We stayed like that for a while, enjoying the blissful feelings, before reality had to intrude.

'I'm sorry, I really want to spend the night with you but we're going to have to go to our own rooms now. I don't want Bob to come into my room in the morning and find it empty – or, worse still, you in my bed.' She laughed. 'Breakfast is about 8 o'clock, so I'll see you then. And thank you for what happened just now. It was amazing.'

'If there's another opportunity like this...?' My question tailed off.

'Only if you promise that it will be no less amazing. I wouldn't want it to become just routine.'

*****

I came down to breakfast at 8 to find Bob and Cassie already there. I helped myself from the dishes of food on the sideboard and joined them at the table. There was no mention of Bob's drinking the previous evening and my having to help him to bed. Instead, Bob immediately asked about my plans for the day.

'First of all, I'd like to start developing some ideas about the family portrait. Obviously I can't start work on it yet because half the family's missing but I need your thoughts on it. If you want something traditional, do you want a Victorian-style family gathered on the sofa, the patriarch standing over them, or do you want a Georgian landscape, showing off both the family and its estate.

Bob laughed. 'You don't know my daughters if you imagine for one minute that they'd let me try acting the patriarch.'

'Ok, I said, how about an update of the landscape idea? Maybe a family group out on the terrace with the park visible in the background but we need something that says it's the 21st century. I'll think about it. You mentioned as well a portrait of yourself. I wondered about you being seated at your desk, the modern baronet running his estate, a computer on the desk, the window behind to pick out the family profile of your face.'

'I like the sound of that', Bob said, 'though I may not have time to pose in the next week or so. But in the meantime, there's Cassie's portrait for you to work on and all the cleaning and restoration work to be started.'

The thought went through my mind of a nude Cassie – maybe as I had seen her the previous evening, her legs spread obscenely far apart in the armchair – hanging among the family portraits. That would create quite a talking point! I forced myself to dismiss the idea before it resulted in an erection that would have been all too obvious.

'If it's ok with you, I'll start by taking a look at the paintings in your collection to see what restoration work they need. That will probably take today and tomorrow and then I have to go back to London for a week, but after that I'm pretty well free. I'll start work on Cassie's portrait when I get back from London. But in the meantime, I may need to pop into the town for one or two things.' Bob took the hint. A short while later he thrust a piece of paper into my hand which carried the name of a woman – Lindy – and an address, with the note 'any time today'.

*****

I decided to get the trip into the town out of the way first. The address I'd been given was a discreetly-situated house but it was fairly easy to find. The drive was occupied by a car so I left mine 100 yards further down the road and walked back.

The door was answered by a woman in her late thirties or early forties. I can best describe her as buxom. If I had to guess – and I'm not good at it – I'd have said she was around a 40DD with a figure tending to full and curvy.

'Lindy?' I asked as she opened the door. I explained who I was and she invited me in. She invited me through to the lounge and asked if I'd like a coffee. She either had a machine or she had some already brewing because she was back within a couple of minutes.

'I take it that Bob has explained what he wants', I said to her.

'Oh yes', she replied with a broad smile on her round face, 'he certainly has, the dirty old bugger. He's got loads of pictures of me and videos but no, he's got to have a painting.'

'Yes, so I understand', I replied. 'Has he talked to you about the pose he wants and how you'll be modelling for it? A photograph or in the flesh, as it were?'

'He wants me in his favourite position – doggy-style looking at me from behind, with me looking back at him over my shoulder and my tits swinging free underneath. And he expects you to paint me from life, not a photo. Up in my bedroom.'

That clarified that and I wasn't complaining. 'I'd better have a look, if that's alright – to check the light.'

'You're welcome to have a look but it's a lovely bright room – windows on two sides – and I can leave the curtains open because nobody overlooks those windows.'

She led the way up the stairs and through a door off the landing. She was quite right – the light in the room was excellent. The furnishings were – how shall I put it – a tad gaudy but I could cope with that.

'Do you want me to demonstrate the pose he wants?' Lindy asked. Without waiting for an answer she stripped off: blouse, skirt, and bra. I don't tend to go a lot on larger breasts but I have to admit that hers were quite special; they hung beautifully and were tipped by a delightful pair of nipples that begged to be sucked. Finally she removed her panties. I wasn't surprised to see that she had a bush of dark hair between her legs. I could imagine Bob liking that.

'I'll leave my hold-ups on for now but I can always take them off for the painting if you like. Bob likes them on, though.'

'On it shall be then.'

She climbed on the bed and knelt on all fours, her behind towards me, and shifted her legs apart, exposing her sex to me. Her inner labia were quite pronounced.

'He'll want me looking open and wet', she said. 'That always gets him turned on. I usually pop a dildo in just before he arrives.'

She reached back between her legs and parted her labia, revealing the pinkness within.

'If you want me more open than this', she said, 'you'll have to help.'

I took the hint and reached down between her legs, sliding my fingers into her. She moved around, forcing them deeper inside and moaned as I forced the walls of her cunt apart.

'Your cock would make a much better job of it', she said. 'Get your clothes off and get round behind me.'

I couldn't believe it. I had met Bob less than 24 hours earlier – I had already fucked his wife and now I was about to fuck his mistress. I had still to meet his daughters!

Within a few seconds I was naked and on the bed behind Lindy. I held her by the hip with one hand while I used the other to position myself at her opening. Once I was there, I grasped her hips by both hands and sank myself into her. She gasped as I penetrated deeply and began thrusting vigorously.

'Hadn't you better check if I'm open enough?' she asked after a few moments.

I was taken aback, to say the least of it. I've made a few sacrifices in the cause of art in my time but pulling out of a woman just when I was getting into the rhythm of it was taking things a bit far. Nevertheless, I did as she suggested and it was as well I did. The sight that greeted me was magnificent. She was wide open and very obviously wet. Now all I had to do was to catch that look on canvas. It was just a pity that I didn't have a canvas, easel and paints with me. What I did have, though, was a sketchpad and a pencil.

'Hold still', I instructed her. 'Don't move and try to keep yourself open. Think about the last time you were thoroughly fucked if you have to, but keep yourself aroused.'

I began to sketch as fast as I could. I wanted to capture the entrancing sight of the folds of her labia, her wetness, and the inner depths that were now slightly revealed. My pencil danced across the paper.

Lindy giggled. 'I can't believe you're actually drawing my cunt. I bet Leonardo da Vinci never did this.'

'He did, actually', I retorted with a laugh, 'the Queen's got one of his sketches of a cunt in her collection, though I don't suppose she keeps it up on the wall. I think his anatomical drawings were of dead bodies, though, so they didn't keep moving around. Now hold still.'

It took me another ten minutes to finish off the sketch. It was a bit rough but it captured the essence of the moment and I guessed that Bob might like it when I'd finished with it. Or maybe even Lindy might like to frame it and put it up. It would be quite a talking point for visitors.

'Aren't you going to finish off what you started?' Lindy asked. 'Only I'm beginning to get a bit stiff here.'

I clambered back onto the bed and lined myself up behind her. I sank into her, to find that she was still incredibly wet.

'Posing like that, knowing that you were looking at me so intimately, it was getting me so aroused', she said between moans. 'I must get my cunt painted more often.'

'Would you prefer that I stopped this and went on with my sketching?' I asked.

'Don't even joke about it', she muttered. 'You've got me this aroused, now do something about it.'

I grabbed hold of her hips and began to fuck her hard. There were no more words from her, just a succession of grunts and groans from her mouth and wet, sticky sounds from her cunt. I could feel her heavy breasts swinging beneath her and reached under to grasp one of them in my hand. I took the nipple between my fingers and stretched it. She let out a wail of pleasure and lowered herself so that the top half of her body was supported on one forearm; with the hand that was freed she reached back between her legs and began rubbing her clit furiously. It didn't take a lot of that before I felt her cunt start to pulsate around me and she came with a series of yells. That was more than I could stand and I emptied myself into her.

She collapsed onto the bed and I went down on top of her, my cock doing its best to stay inside her.

'Oh God, that was good', I said quietly in her ear. 'I can't wait 'til I start the painting itself. I've got the feeling it might take a long time.'

'Mmmm', she murmured back, 'but before you start painting I think you should do some sketches of other parts of me. There's my mouth and my tits and my arse, for a start – they all enjoy being fucked – but perhaps we'd better leave them for another day.'

*****

I spent the rest of the day – and the next one – going round the Hall, accompanied by the handyman, equipped with a couple of stepladders. Many of the paintings on the walls were large and had heavy, ornate frames. They were going to be hard work to get down, so I decided to examine them in situ. If Sir Robert had ever harboured a hope that there might be some Old Masters lurking on his walls, he was going to be disappointed. Most of the fakes I'd produced were far better. The family had hardly been short of money but it had never been wealthy enough to pay really good artists to paint these large pictures. One or two of the smaller ones, though, might be of interest.

By the afternoon of the second day, I ended up in a dusty attic where the pictures not deemed worthy of a place on the walls were stored away. Most of them were rubbish, collected by undiscerning ancestors but, once again, there were one or two that would bear more detailed scrutiny. The trouble was that I – a convicted forger – wasn't the person to announce that a previously unknown Turner or Monet had turned up in an obscure Devonshire house. You can imagine the conclusion that people would immediately jump to. I would need to get acknowledged experts to come and have a look at them before I so much as left my fingerprints on them.

In the meantime, I had spent another evening in the company of Bob and Cassie. Cassie wanted to watch a film on TV, so she went off to the TV lounge – the house was plenty big enough to have such a thing – while Bob expected me to join him in the drawing room. Once again, the brandy decanter (which someone had helpfully refilled during the day) took a pounding, while I opted for what Bob assumed to be gin and tonic. Fortunately, I like tonic.

By the time Cassie's film had ended, Bob was asleep in his chair. I sought her advice. 'Do we wake him or leave him there?'

'If we wake him, he'll be angry now. If we leave him, he'll be angry when he wakes in the middle of the night. Personally, I prefer to get the anger over with.' She gave a wry smile. 'And I think it might suit us better if he was tucked up in bed and fast asleep', she added, winking at me, 'assuming you're interested, of course.'

'How could you possibly think that I might not be interested?' I said in a low voice, just in case Bob was still capable of hearing a conversation. 'How about we finish up down here, take him up to bed, and then we'll go straight to my room. Making love on a sheepskin rug is very romantic but a bed is much more comfortable.'

We cleared away the glasses and decanters and then I went over to Bob. I put my arm round his shoulders and spoke loudly in his ear. 'Time for bed, old man.'

He jumped; in his befuddled state he was unsure who I was. 'What? Who? Oh yes, oh well, time for one more and then bed' he slurred. His head slumped and he was asleep again. I moved so that I was supporting him under both his arms, and prised him up out of his chair. His eyes half opened. 'Oh yes, well, bed I suppose.'

I don't know how we managed to get him up the stairs. He would half wake and then be fast asleep again before we'd climbed more than three stairs. But at least there was no sign of the previous night's temper; I think he was in too much of a stupor. We eventually got him to his room and into bed but both Cassie and I were exhausted by that time.

'I'm not sure...', she said, leaving her sentence unfinished.

'Whether you're up to making love tonight?'

She nodded.

'I tell you what, we'll muss up your bed as we pass your room and then we'll go to mine. We can just go to sleep in each other's arms. We can wake early enough in the morning to get you back to your room before Bob's up and, if by some chance we oversleep, it'll look as though you've just slipped out of bed if he goes into your room.'

She agreed.

We slipped into bed beside each other and she rested her head on me. I caressed her gently and felt a couple of silent tears fall onto my chest. It was just before six when I stirred and I woke her with a kiss.

'We've got a few minutes, can we snuggle up for a moment?'

I put one of my arms round her and moved the hand of the other to her breast, holding it and caressing it. She murmured appreciatively.

'I want you inside me, please. Make love to me gently.'

'Won't you be too dry? I don't want to hurt you.'

'Just lying here beside you is already making me wet down there. Just go slowly.'

She turned onto her back and spread her legs. I shifted over between them. She took hold of my cock and guided it to where she wanted it to be. It seemed to slide in remarkably easily considering our lack of foreplay but she was quite tight. I wasn't sure I could last very long.

'I don't think I can cum', she said, 'but I want to feel you cum in me. That would make me very happy.'

I was right. It didn't take me long to make her very happy.

*****

The following day was Sunday. Cassie had invited some friends, Roger and Elaine, for lunch – the traditional Sunday roast lunch, which took the place of the normal evening dinner. Bob, of course, had started with some pre-lunch drinks and by early evening he was well away. Fortunately, Roger was able to help me get him up the stairs and into bed, which was more than useful. We had a light supper that the cook had prepared for us and then Roger and Elaine left. That suited Cassie and me just fine as it was my last night at the Hall for a week. Cassie stretched out along the length of the drawing room sofa with her head in my lap. We were simply enjoying the sensations of being intimately close to each other. It seemed incredible to think that we had only met a couple of days before.

Cassie had slipped off her bra and panties as soon as Roger and Elaine had gone and, as a result, I had ready access to explore her body. I played with her breasts and tormented her nipples mercilessly. I was afraid I was being far too rough with them but I soon discovered that she loved them being treated harshly. I'd been enjoying that for a while when she complained that something hard was sticking into the back of her head. She turned over and, with her eyes looking up at me the whole while, unzipped my trousers and released my cock from its imprisonment. She paused for a moment just to say that she would need me to last that night, so this was just a precaution. Then she raised herself up and sank her mouth down over my cock.

Her mouth was warm, wet and luxurious. Her tongue worked expertly on me and she used her teeth to stay just within that fine dividing line between exquisite excitement and pain. It didn't take very long before I was pumping my cum into her mouth. She opened her mouth to show me how it lingered on her tongue, and then she tipped her head back and swallowed it as she might have done an oyster.

Meanwhile, I had slipped a hand down to her cunt and opened it up, sliding two fingers into her to stimulate her G-spot while my thumb teased her clit. She was soon writhing and gasping and then, suddenly, she had the most explosive orgasm and my hand was drenched.