A Faker's Progress Pt. 03

She broke off long enough for me to squeeze in an 'Ah!'.

'Yes, his mother dotes on him and she thinks I'm a tyrant and a bully. He's at home now – that sounds silly, doesn't it, because this should be his home – but he'll probably wander back here now I've returned. I can't see us lasting much longer, though. In a way, I almost wish he'd find someone else and go off with her. It would be far simpler.'

'Yes, I can see that', I added as sympathetically as possible, but then I thought it might be better to change the subject. 'You looked as if there was something you wanted to ask me.'

'Oh yes, it's about your work – well, sort of. Rachel let slip that you did a couple of paintings while dad was away – paintings that he knows nothing about, for very good reasons! I know that one of them came up with the idea, in which case I'd hazard a guess that you're sleeping with that one but I wouldn't like to say which. Mum is very lonely, just as she was when I was conceived, so that's a possibility, but equally I can see Rachel going for an older man like you.'

I said nothing.

Her eyes flashed. 'I may not be as perceptive as you but that look on your face says 'smug'. Good God! It's both of them, isn't it? Do they both know that the other...?'

I really didn't want to say any more than I absolutely needed to so I just nodded. I certainly didn't want to mention that sometimes her mother and her younger sister shared my bed.

'Does Dad have any idea?'

'Yes, he guessed – purely because your mother was suddenly a lot happier. But he doesn't know about Rachel.'

'I think you'd better tell me all about it, don't you? Never mind all the things I've got to do, this is far more interesting. Right, start from the very beginning and don't you dare miss anything out – I'll know if you do.'

I talked for something like an hour and a half, and probably for longer than that taking into account all the interruptions for Amanda's questions. I have to admit, though, that I did leave out a few of the more salacious bits about Lindy.

When I finally came to the end of my tale, Amanda sat back in her chair. 'I'm dumbstruck', she said. 'I honestly don't know what to say, except that I think you're rotten.'

'Yes', I said. 'I knew there was a good chance you'd disapprove as soon as I started telling you the story but you asked me to tell you the whole truth, so I did.'

'No', she replied with a laugh, 'I think you're rotten for not waiting for me to get back from my course before it all started. Do you realise, you've probably had more sex in the last two or three weeks than I've had in the last two or three years, and with more people than I've ever slept with – because I don't believe for one moment that you sat quietly in Lindy's bedroom and sketched her while she posed stark naked. I've seen her – and she gets dad going, for goodness sake.'

'Well, maybe I did skip over one or two details there', I admitted.

'I never knew about mum, granny and Mike', she continued. 'I suppose mum thought it was bad enough having to tell me that dad wasn't my biological father without going into all of that. But it does make me wonder if the story about 'an affair with a local farmer' wasn't just a smokescreen. Maybe mum and Mike were still at it after she got married and I was the result. I remember meeting him a few times at granny's when I was young but I can't really remember that much about him, but I know he loved farming and the countryside, just like me.'

We sat in silence for a few moments and then Amanda looked serious. 'You won't let mum get hurt, will you? She's had a difficult life with dad's alcoholism and she doesn't need more pain.'

'I'll take very great care of her.'

She looked relieved. 'Good. I'll hold you to that. But moving on, what about me? I don't suppose you've brought your painting things, have you? Oh well, we'll just have to drive over to the Hall and pick them up. I'm not wasting the opportunity while Richard's not here. You're going to paint me in the nude and then it's my turn to be fucked. If all the other females in the family – and dad's trollop – have had you, I'm not being left out.'

*****

We jumped into her car and headed over to the Hall. Within a few minutes I had gathered up everything I needed and was about to leave when Rachel spotted us, and immediately wanted to know what was going on. Amanda said something about a lovely landscape she wanted to show me as a possible subject for a painting.

'Oh yes?' The tone in Rachel's voice was full of sarcastic doubt. 'I'll look forward to seeing it when it's finished. Have fun!' With that, she winked at me and turned away.

When we got back to the farmhouse, I looked round for somewhere suitable for Amanda to pose. We decided it had better be upstairs, just in case one of the farmhands popped into the house, and not in a room that could be seen from the farmyard. Eventually I found a well-lit room on the south side of the house, overlooking the garden. A window seat made it perfect for the pose I wanted, with the light playing on the curves of her body. I needed her to sit, her head slightly turned to look out of the window, and with one knee raised, so that her sex would be exposed to me.

I set up my easel and got everything ready and then called Amanda to join me. I'd deliberately suggested that she stay downstairs until I was ready; I thought it would allow the anticipation to build and, judging by the look on her face when she came into the room, it had worked. I explained my suggested pose to her and was more than pleased when she agreed.

'Take your clothes off, please', I said to her, though I wasn't sure how kindly a strong-willed girl like her would take to being given instructions, no matter how politely phrased. I thought she was going to insist that I undress her – I'm fairly certain the thought flashed across her mind – but then she started to do as I asked. Suddenly I saw a meeker side to her as her head bowed and she slowly undid the buttons of her blouse.

'It's been a long time since someone other than Richard has seen me naked', she said in a hushed tone. 'I hope you're not going to be disappointed.'

She took off the blouse and laid it on the bed. She kicked off her shoes and then reached down and unzipped her jeans. They were quite tight fitting and she had to wriggle out of them before pushing them down her legs. They, too, were added to the growing pile on the bed before she covered the cups of her bra with one arm as she reached behind to undo the clasp. She turned away from me before she allowed the straps to fall from her shoulders and eased the cups from her breasts.

'No', I said curtly. 'Don't turn away from me, let me see your body.'

She turned back a tad reluctantly. 'Good girl', I said quietly.

She still had her arms crossed over her breasts. I moved over to her and took hold of her arms, shifting them to her sides, but she was still hunched over. Her breasts were a delight: they hung heavy and full, each a substantial handful, swinging deliciously as she moved. They were tipped with very hard nipples that definitely needed a mouth on them. The rest of her body was gorgeously curvy, too, though as I had suspected, it was taut. She had broad hips – child-bearing hips, some people might have said – which added substance to her behind and thighs but her tummy had no more than a gentle degree of roundness and led up to a very nice waist.

'Hold yourself up', I told her. 'You should be proud of yourself. Your body's beautiful, very beautiful.' She straightened herself and looked at me, though there was still concern on her face. 'When was the last time you were fucked?' I asked her.

She blushed. 'About three months ago. Richard and I do very occasionally.'

'That's far too long. Right, you said I should paint you first, but why don't we switch that round. That way, I might have a subject to paint who looks a lot more contented. How does that sound to you?'

There was a moment's silence. For a second or two I wondered whether she was having doubts. Maybe she suddenly realised that if she followed through with this, things were never going to be quite the same again.

'Yes, let's do that', she said at last. She grasped the waistband of her panties and slid them down, revealing a fine down of hair, matching the sandy-coloured hair on her head. There was an obvious cleft between the outer lips of her sex which exposed a long, heavy clit hood from which the very tip of the clit itself could just be seen emerging. I took her hand and guided her to the bed. She lay back.

'Draw your knees up as high as you can and open your legs', I told her. As she did so, I quickly stripped off my own clothes and knelt between her outstretched legs. I looked down at her cunt, which was now totally and obscenely on display. Just like her mother – and in contrast to her clit hood – her little lips were tiny and, with her legs spread apart, the way was open into her vagina. I could see by the glint of moisture round her opening that she was aroused but I wanted to hear it from her own mouth.

'Are you aroused? Are you ready for me to take you?'

She nodded her head and then shook it.

'Yes, I'm aroused but no, I'm not ready for you. Please lick me down there first. I haven't had a man go down on me since before I was married. Richard won't do it. He thinks it's disgusting. Please...'

I need hardly add that I had every intention of doing that anyway, but when I'm asked like that, how could I possibly refuse? I straightened her legs out and began to run my hands up and down her sides, from immediately below her breasts – so close to them, in fact, that I could feel her willing me to touch them – to below her hips and onto the swell of her behind. I kept my thumbs outstretched so that they ran over her chest and tummy and into the crease of her legs. Then, after a few minutes of that, I switched my attention to the soft, fair skin of her inner thighs, from her knees up to her groin. From her reactions to all this, I began to wonder if touching was something else that Richard wasn't keen on.

I felt her hips began to wriggle, as if she was trying to get my fingers to shift their attention towards her waiting sex. I could see it becoming ever more wet and open, her clit starting to swell, its head peeking out from its hood. I paused briefly just to look at her between her outstretched legs, to admire her.

Amanda's hands flew down to cover herself. 'What's the matter, what's wrong?'

I took hold of her hands and moved them back to her sides. 'Nothing's wrong, nothing at all', I reassured her. 'In fact, everything's very right. I'm just enjoying looking at you. It's a wonderful sight.'

'Really?' she demanded. Obviously something else that Richard didn't do. I got the impression that when he did do anything, it was little more than climb on top and get himself in.

'Yes, really', I insisted. 'Do you want me to touch you there?'

'Oh God, yes!' Her voice had risen a pitch.

'Take my hand then and guide it. Show me how you like to be touched.'

She hesitated.

'Don't you ever touch yourself?' I asked gently.

'Yes, sometimes, she replied. 'I have to – it's the only way I get any satisfaction most of the time – but I've never done it in front of anyone before and, even though your hand's there, it feels like I'd be touching myself.'

'Please', I asked, 'there's nothing to be ashamed of, I want to see you do it. You can guide my hand if you prefer, or you can use your own. Why don't you close your eyes if that would make it easier?'

She took my hand and guided it to her slit. 'No', she said, 'I need to see you, I want to watch you.'

My fingers, under her control, made circling movements around her clit and were encouraged to rub the length of its shaft. Then she took one of my fingers and touched it softly to the tip of its head. 'Please be gentle, it gets so sensitive there, it hurts sometimes.'

She moaned as my finger danced lightly over her exposed nub, but before long she wanted me to shift my attention and moved my hand down to the opening into her body.

'Put your fingers up inside me', she urged.

I slipped one finger in. She was incredibly wet. I worked it steadily around, exploring every millimetre of her soft, warm hole, her moans continuing as I did so. After a few moments of this I decided that it was time for a second finger. She gave a small gasp as it stretched her. Her hand, in the meantime, had abandoned its shepherding role, and she had now flung her arm across her forehead.

I reckoned that now was the time to start bringing her towards the ultimate pleasure. Keeping my fingers inside her, I lowered my head and put my mouth to her slit. My tongue teased around her clit while my fingers sought out her most sensitive spots inside. She was now beginning to writhe around on the bed as the sensations mounted and, despite what she'd said earlier, her eyes were screwed tight shut. Her moans became almost continuous. I took care to keep my tongue away from the most delicate tip of her clit to avoid the sensations becoming unbearable but I sensed the moment when it began to retreat under its hood, signalling the onset of her orgasm.

She reared up off the bed, her back forming a perfect arch, her body supported by her head and her feet. She thrust her cunt hard at my mouth. The time for gentle sensitivity was over and I used the flat of my tongue over the whole area of her slit and clit. Her moans turned into groans and screams. I hoped that no-one was in listening range because there wouldn't have been much doubt what was going on. Even if I say it myself, this girl was having the time of her life and there was no holding her back.

'Oh God, oh God, oh God!' she yelled out as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. 'Don't stop, don't you dare stop, don't you fucking dare stop', she screamed.

To see her in that state was an utter delight, as it was to see the huge smile that spread across her face as the orgasm faded away. When I slipped my fingers out of her, they were soaking wet.

She looked down below my waist. 'That thing looks ready to explode', she laughed. 'You'd better get it inside me before it does.'

I moved up over her body – I'd had thoughts earlier that we might go for some non-routine position but the situation seemed too urgent now to be rearranging ourselves – and let her take hold of my cock to place it inside her. I sank halfway into her wetness and then, hearing her moan in response to the feeling of being filled up, I withdrew again, before sliding the whole way into her irresistible cunt. She gasped as I penetrated her warm wetness to my full depth, lingering there for a few seconds so that we could both enjoy the feeling, before setting up a slow, smooth and steady in-and-out. I took a gamble that Richard probably went at her like a battering ram so I wanted her to experience something different and I wanted to give her a chance to recover from her previous orgasm.

Her reaction told me I was probably right on both counts. Her head thrashed from side to side and she let out a continual stream of 'Oh yes... oh yes... oh yes...' When, finally, she came, there was no massive crescendo but a warm, deeply-satisfied moan. With that, I let myself go and felt my cum spurt out inside her.

We both lay there, utterly satisfied. Her body felt good to lie on and I wanted to stay inside her for as long as I could. Fortunately, she was sturdy enough for me not to worry about my weight being on her for a few minutes, at least.

'That was so very good...'

I put a finger to her lips to stop her; anything else – comparisons with other people, thanks, concerns, whatever it was she might have been about to say – had no place in it.

'Yes, it was, without a doubt, and I hope and pray it won't be the only time.'

'So do I', she said, 'so do I.'

We lay there for a while, the afternoon sunshine and the sounds of the countryside pouring in through the window. Finally, I suggested that I should make a start on the painting.

I worked fast and furiously. It was almost as if our love-making had filled me with energy, vitality and inspiration. I knew that I had to capture the look of her as she was there and then, so I only lightly sketched in the background and concentrated on her body instead and, in particular, her face. I reckon that I really did capture the look of contentment and happiness that was on her face.

I worked very late into the afternoon and by the end of it I had the essence of the picture complete. I was pleased with it and so was Amanda, and I'd done enough to be able to finish it off over the next couple of days. By the time I'd cleared up my things, it was too late to go back to the Hall for dinner, so Amanda offered to cook for the both of us. We ate at the kitchen table, side by side, regularly pausing to reach out and touch each other in lingering intimacy.

Finally, and with reluctance on both our parts, Amanda gave me a lift back to the Hall in her car. When I got back, Cassie grabbed the first possible opportunity when we were alone for a few minutes.

'I suppose I shouldn't really be asking if you've spent the day in bed with my married daughter but I hope you have. Perhaps it's better you don't say anything about it but you're just what she needed.'

Rachel, on the other hand, was downright inquisitive. Now you've tried both of us, which of us two sisters is the best?' I quickly pointed out to her that such comparisons are invidious, which sent her scuttling away to find a dictionary.

And later that night, both Cassie and Rachel came to my room. It was a some hours later that I finally got to sleep, having experienced a few bouts of inventive and interesting lovemaking between the two of them. I fell asleep with my arm round two of my lovers and the third very much in my thoughts.

to be concluded...