Audrey Ch. 04

Becky looked at the man with tears in her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was thick with emotion.

'I love you so much, Bryan Sandford,' she said. 'I can be such a stupid, selfish woman at times, but you keep telling me when I'm not! You keep reminding me who I am when I forget to be scared and insecure.'

'I'm your husband,' said Bryan. 'That's my job.'

He kissed her. Becky kissed him back. They spent a long time kissing, then Becky once more felt overwhelmed by a feeling of loss. She broke off the kiss, curled up against Bryan's body and quietly sobbed in his arms as he told her everything was going to be okay. They still had each other.

They would always have each other.

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And this is where the story should end.

It began with the inception of the Audrey fantasy and this is where 'Audrey' has led our protagonists. The character Sarah has also gone through an emotional arc, which led to an important realisation. The circle is complete.

But life doesn't work according to the structure of Beginning-Middle-End. Sometimes the End is a new Beginning, but more often life is one big Middle which kind of shambles around with stuff happening -- and not happening -- in a shapeless, directionless blob. Indeed, one of the reasons we love 'good' stories is that they offer us a sense of completion which life simply doesn't have.

This is what Sarah experienced.

She left the Sandford household that Saturday morning feeling that the story was over. She was sad, maybe even heartbroken, but she felt strong in her sadness. She had made a decision. She had chosen for her son, for her future, for a renewed determination to continue seeking the intimate partnership she longed for, and to accept nothing less.

She felt good, despite feeling bad.

Two weeks later, that good feeling had all but dissipated. Sarah began to realise that her life after walking away from Becky and Bryan was the identical twin of the life before she met them -- stressful, lonely and sterile. It didn't help that their respective children went to the same school. Despite her assurance that they would continue to be friends, Sarah found herself turning down Becky's invitations to meet, citing work and single motherhood as excuses, but there was no avoiding the couple when it was time to pick up Max.

Funnily enough, seeing Bryan was less painful than seeing Becky. He was always warm and pleased to see Sarah, but also pragmatic about the situation. With Bryan, it was okay not to be okay and Sarah didn't have to pretend. Whereas Becky always gave Sarah the impression that she was holding herself back from hugging her every time they met. There was clearly a ton of emotions boiling inside Becky and Sarah had no idea what to do with that.

In the third week, Becky sent a message saying, 'If you need your space, I understand. But the door is always open. Always.' After that, there was no more contact, no invitations to coffee, nothing. And Sarah might glimpse Becky drop off Tara in the mornings, but she no longer came to the school in the afternoon for the pick-up. It was either Bryan or the mother of one of Tara's friends. Sarah began to worry. She didn't want to resume contact with Becky -- having her space was working -- but she did want to put her mind at ease. So one afternoon at the school, Sarah went up to Bryan as they waited for their children to be let out.

'I haven't seen Becky for a while,' she said.

'No,' said Bryan.

'Is she all right?'

'Yes and no. She's having to process some stuff, but she'll get through it all right.'

'What "stuff"?'

Bryan looked at Sarah.

'She has a crush on you,' he said. 'Becky's never been with a woman before and she's kicking herself that she didn't tell you before you left.'

Sarah swallowed, her face bright red.

'I'm not lesbian,' she said.

'Neither is she,' said Bryan.

He wandered away and began talking to one of the other mothers, the one who sometimes picked up Tara. Sarah watched him, seething with rage. She was smart enough to know when someone had planted a seed in her mind, but knowing it and resisting it were two different things. When Max showed up, she was able to focus on being a mother, but as soon as she put him to bed that evening and went into the small living room, her mind was bombarded with sexual imagery. Her body ached for sex and the thought of being penetrated by Bryan while French kissing with Becky had Sarah doubled up on the couch in an agony of frustration.

'Is that what you want?' she demanded of her reflection in the bathroom mirror. 'To be a glorified sex doll, just to spice up some bored couple's marriage?'

But a couple of days later, when Sarah had reactivated her internet dating account and resumed the tiresome process of filtering, blocking and searching through men's uninspiring profiles, being a married couple's sex doll began to look steadily more attractive. It bothered Sarah, even distressed her at times, that the thought of handing her naked body over to the pair to be licked and sucked and penetrated and cum over felt ten times more appealing than seeking her soulmate. She was terrified that she might be secretly depraved and forced herself to contact some potential dating candidates. After numerous false starts and changes of mind, Sarah finally organised her first proper date in over a year.

It was a disaster.

No, that's not fair. The guy was a bit bland, but he was nice enough, sympathetic enough. He handled himself pretty well with a woman who had zero interest in getting to know him. But it was a disaster for Sarah, who was hoping to feel that she was heading in the right direction, that even if this date didn't work out, it would at least feel like a step closer to the date that would work out. Instead, it felt like a colossal waste of time.

It was nine-thirty on a Friday evening when Sarah got into the taxi that would take her home. As she was being driven through town, she realised it was five weeks to the night that she had had sex with Becky's husband while Becky masturbated herself on the living room floor. Sarah felt warm between her legs and her inner voice reminded her that Max was staying the night with his grandparents.

To hell with it.

At nearly ten o'clock, the taxi pulled up outside Becky and Bryan's house. Sarah paid the driver and got out of the car, telling him not to wait. The car drove off and she stood alone on the doorstep and rang the bell.

It was Becky who answered the door.

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This time Sarah did not sleep in the spare room. Indeed, she had already decided in the taxi that if she was sexually depraved, then so be it. She'd rather be happy and depraved than miserable and virtuous. And when her clothes came off and she found herself sucking Bryan's cock while Becky ate out her pussy, Sarah wondered what on earth she had been worried about. This was awesome! And it just got better and better and better.

For two solid hours, the three of them indulged in every sex act they could think of. And by midnight, when they all snuggled up in bed together, Sarah smelled of sweat and semen, and she didn't give a damn. She went to sleep with Bryan's cock in her hand and slept better than she had in years.

The following morning, Sarah was the first to awaken. She looked at the sleeping couple and then wondered whether their daughter was asleep in the bedroom next door. Sarah knew from talking to Becky that Friday night sleepovers were kind of a thing for Tara, but was last night one of those nights?

She raised herself up and began planting light kisses on Bryan's face. He made a deep growling noise and slowly opened his eyes. The two looked at each other. Sarah smiled.

'Hello, Bryan,' she said in her soft, posh voice.

'Hello, Beautiful,' he said back.

She kissed him on the mouth and said:

'I need to ask. Tara...?'

'...is at Sally's.'

'Okay.'

'We would have asked you to--'

'I know, I know.'

'Well, clearly not or--'

Sarah silenced him with a kiss. The kissing became snogging, then Sarah slid her body onto the man's. When Becky awoke, it was to the sight of Sarah riding her husband's cock, heading for her first orgasm of the day.

Later, at the breakfast table, Sarah said:

'You two have corrupted me.'

'We're working on it,' joked Bryan.

But Becky didn't laugh. She looked at Sarah with an expression that was somehow both stern and kind.

'Maybe this is who we are,' she said. 'And maybe the people who convinced us that a woman should be a Good Little Girl are the corrupters.'

Those words stayed with Sarah in the weeks and months that followed. Nights of threeway sex became a regular part of her life and although she considered it a separate part, it affected everything about her. She began to dress differently, carry herself differently, eschewing the look of a thirty-year-old girl for that of a sexy petite woman. Sarah began to realise how much being small made her feel small, yet that diminutive body she so disparaged was the exact same body which drove Bryan and Becky mad with desire. And when her body became the recipient of so much attention and touching and yes, lust, it became very difficult to continue disparaging it. Sarah began to embrace her smallness, revel in her smallness, enjoy her smallness. She began to look in the mirror and love what she saw.

What was difficult was explaining the change to family and friends. Within a month, Sarah's mother was asking, 'When are we going to meet the lucky man?' But even here, Sarah experienced a kind of evolution in her perceptions. To begin with, she regarded her 'arrangement' as a dirty little secret, something to hide at all costs. But as life went on, having regular sex felt increasingly normal, even beneficial, and after three months, Sarah was actually irritated at having to dance around the issue. Finally, she told her parents, 'Listen, if you must know, I have what is known as a "friends with benefits" situation.'

Sarah's mother pretended not to know what that meant, which pissed the hell out of Sarah. Her father was more direct.

'Does this "friend" lay hands on you?' he said.

'Not in the way that you mean,' said Sarah.

'For goodness sake!' said her mother.

'It's none of our business!' said Sarah's father. He looked at his daughter. 'So long as this person doesn't hurt you, it's none of our business.'

Sarah had tears in her eyes. This was a complete about-turn from what he used to say when she was a teenager. But finding out the details of his daughter's short-lived marriage after the fact had been a massive shock to the old man. He had taken it as a personal failure and Sarah had had to work hard to stop him tracking down her ex-husband to literally try and kill him. Of course, her father would never approve of her threeway relationship -- particularly the lesbian element -- but Sarah realised he didn't need to. 'It's none of our business' is a perfectly valid position and Sarah respected that.

Speaking of the lesbian element, both Sarah and Becky discovered something about themselves when they dove into that particular pool. When Bryan was present, the two of them went at each other with gusto, kissing, licking, sixty-nineing, whatever. But even if he simply left the room, both of them felt weird, even awkward. They grew more comfortable with each other as time went on, but it never felt natural and the two women discussed it at length whenever they met up for coffee.

Sarah's big fear was that she was an unconscious homophobe. She had always seen herself as sympathetic to the gay community, and it was a shock to realise just how much she did not want to be a member of it. Becky's attitude was, 'If we're bisexual, we're bisexual. It's better not to lie to ourselves.' It was Becky who initiated going out for a drink at a lesbian bar, then a night out in a gay club. They had a great time together, but neither felt any bells going off in their heads. Finally, Becky spent the night at Sarah's place, the two of them naked in bed. Nothing happened. Well, nothing apart from a long discussion on why nothing happened.

It was during one of their sex nights that the penny finally dropped.

The three of them were naked and Sarah lay on the couch while Becky knelt on the floor next to it. The two women were snogging, Becky on top of Sarah. Becky's hand was running over Sarah's breasts and body as they kissed, enjoying the feel of her body. Bryan watched for a while, getting harder and harder, then he took hold of his wife's hips and slipped his cock into her vagina from behind.

It was kind of an unspoken rule that Bryan would ejaculate his first, biggest load into Sarah. She was the guest, after all, and the couple wanted her to come back. But when Bryan saw Becky's hand wander downwards to start fingering Sarah's cunt and he heard Sarah's soft, posh voice sigh in decadent pleasure, he lost control. Three quick thrusts and bam! ... he came.

Sarah froze. She had Becky's face right in front of her and that face wore the most extraordinary expression. It was vacant, yet alive. Expressionless, yet full of emotion. Becky was no longer behind her eyes, but elsewhere in her body, deep, deep inside where the man's seed was now swimming. Sarah felt a sudden, burning jealousy.

'That was mine...' she murmured.

Becky seemed to return. She looked at Sarah, her eyes rich with triumph and superiority.

'Fuck you, bitch,' she said.

That's when it clicked for Sarah. She and Becky weren't lovers. They were rivals, duellists. And feminine sexuality was their weapon of choice. They were trying to 'out-woman' each other in front of Bryan. Sarah smiled at the realisation. She took Becky's head in her hands and kissed her full on the mouth.

'I love you,' she said.

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Sarah didn't know it, but that moment changed things for Becky.

Becky had known for a while that what turned her on about their little love triangle was the feeling of power over another woman. Sarah showed deference to Becky's position as Wife and Becky granted sexual favours in return. She was the benevolent Queen to both Bryan and Sarah, generous to her subjects and loved by them for her generosity. It made Becky wet just to think about it.

But with the 'Fuck you, bitch', Becky's mask has slipped and Sarah's loving response had taken her by surprise. Sarah had seen Becky's 'real' face ... and she loved her anyway. Becky was moved and suddenly the thought of putting the mask back on felt regressive, even pointless. She wanted that love.

Becky lowered her head and kissed Sarah deep on the mouth. Becky still had her husband's cock inside her, but now she moved, letting him slip out, and climbed onto the other woman. Bryan watched his wife begin to make love to the pale, lovely Sarah, small and feminine under Becky's darker athletic body. Becky's kissing was deep and sensual, and her hands moved on that pale body the way a man's hands moved. Bryan wanted to watch, but an inner voice told him that something was different and he would be wiser to leave. The voice reminded him of how Becky had given him a night alone with Sarah, and maybe it was time to return the favour.

Bryan got up, collected his clothes and left, quietly closing the door.

Becky and Sarah continued to make out. Then Becky felt Sarah smile under her mouth.

'What?' said Becky.

'Are you leaking Bryan onto my leg?'

'Oh, sorry.'

'Don't be silly. I like it.'

Sarah looked up at Becky, her eyes almost impossibly beautiful. Becky felt Sarah's small hands on her back and her bottom. They felt wonderful.

'Are you thinking what I'm thinking?' said Sarah.

'Probably not. I'm thinking about how great your hands feel on my butt.'

'I see. And there was me thinking how great your pussy would feel on my mouth.'

Becky did not need to be asked twice. She pushed herself up and clambered over to Sarah. Meanwhile, Sarah pushed herself along the couch, positioning herself under Becky's hips, taking her bottom and guiding her down. Becky dripped semen as cunt met mouth, and she let out a loud groan as Sarah's tongue entered her.

Becky leaned on the couch's wide armrest, eyes closed, enjoying every nuance of Sarah's ministrations. God, the woman knew how to eat pussy! Becky could feel an orgasm building and she began to move her hips, smearing cum and cunt-juice over Little Miss Perfect's pretty little face. 'Mmmmmm...' said the soft, posh voice, as though cunt-juice was chocolate. It was too much. Becky rubbed and gasped, the orgasm rushing upon her like a wave. She felt Sarah grip her ass and push her face right in, her tongue going faster and faster.

The orgasm burst through, shaking Becky's body and making her scream. She ejaculated, her cunt gushing hot liquid over Sarah's face, making her squeal and laugh. Becky shuddered and grunted, her fingers digging into the upholstery as the ecstasy rocked her. She was rubbing her cunt over the other woman's face, and that tongue was still going.

'Enough! Enough!' she gasped.

She grabbed the back of Sarah's head by the hair, forcing her to stillness. Then she realised she was pressing Sarah's nose into her cunt. Becky relaxed her grip and shifted away.

'Sorry...' she murmured.

'Sorry?!' cried Sarah.

She rolled out from under Becky, leapt up and wrestled the taller woman onto her back on the couch. Becky felt Sarah climb on, her breasts pressing onto Becky's breasts as she lay on top of her. Her hair had wet streaks from Becky's cum and her eyes glittered with lust. Sarah was more turned on than Becky had ever seen her.

'I'll give you sorry!' said Sarah, and she drove her tongue into the other woman's mouth.

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Sarah lay on the carpet, one leg stretched out, the other flat on the floor so that her knee was high in the air. She had one arm behind her head and the other was around Becky, who was curled up against her after an hour of solid sex. Sarah was in the exact same position Bryan had adopted after the two of them made love that very first time.

As she held Becky, Sarah mulled over their lovemaking. It had been unlike anything she had ever experienced. With every sexual encounter in her life, Sarah had been the 'passive' partner, the receiver. In fact, a man wanting to 'receive' was a turnoff for her. And as for the men who might want to be tied up and dominated, well ... Sarah felt such a visceral disgust that she could barely think about it.

But a woman who wanted to receive was a totally different story.

Sarah once read somewhere that when a man is a good lover, he is like a musician and the woman his instrument. Sarah had found it trite and reductive at the time, but now she found herself reconsidering the notion. When she thought about the night she and Becky had spent together, the image of a cello in bed with a violin was not far off. The two might make twanging noises as they rubbed each other, but little else. There had been no 'musician'.

When Sarah thought of herself as the musician, the other woman became the violin, and it suddenly struck Sarah that Becky was a Stradivarius. It wasn't just that she had a great body and perfect tits -- although that certainly helped. It was her confidence, her shamelessness, that so impressed Sarah. Becky acted like her pussy was haute cuisine -- that licking her out was a luxury activity, rather than something gross and disgusting. 'Gross and disgusting' were the exact words Sarah would have used if someone had asked her what she thought of the idea of having a woman ejaculate over her face, yet when it happened, Sarah wanted to wash her entire body in Becky's love-juice.