David and Jen

His lip curled at the thought of pushing through the throng just to sit on his own and he walked on.

He came to the junction with the old main road and turned left towards the heart of the village. The houses were a mixture of semi-detached and detached. Some tens of yards down the road was the bus stop: the interior an inky pool. The orange coal of a cigarette glowed in the corner.

"Hi, David."

He paused and tried to place the voice.

"It's Sally."

Sally was a regular in the pub and could have doubled for Annie Lennox with her short red hair, slim figure, leather jacket and jeans.

"Oh. Hi Sally. You on your own out here?"

"Yeah, the pub was getting a bit much."

He chuckled. "I didn't fancy it either."

"Where are you going?"

"Literally, or figuratively?"

"What are you talking about?" Her voice was puzzled.

He sighed. This was an all too common occurrence.

"Jen's taken the kids to her parents, and I needed to get out of the house."

"Right."

The tip of her cigarette glowed a little brighter as she took a drag, and her face was briefly illuminated. Her eyes were big and dark, and he felt a little frisson as she looked at him.

"Would you like to fuck me?"

David was nonplussed, wondering if he'd heard correctly.

"Um," he said, scrambling for a way to confirm what he thought she'd just said.

"Unless you've got anything better to do," she murmured.

She stood and ground her cigarette under her heel. "Come on."

A quarter of a century ago, the core of the settlement had been bypassed to avoid a tight chicane that thwarted large lorries. Consequently, the High Street had been relegated to a supporting role and had suffered the underinvestment that went with it. The streetlights were sparse and old fashioned; more decorative than functional. They progressed from one pool of orange light to the next in the empty street.

She led him down a gap between two houses that he couldn't remember ever seeing before. It was pitch black and he reached out to touch what he hoped was her shoulder.

"I can't see a thing!"

"Not far, hold my hand."

Her fingers were slim and cool, and his heart thumped in his chest. At the end of the alley, he could feel that they were now in an open space, but the picket fence continued to the right of them. Now the backs of houses came into view, the occasional lit window, a couple of houses had lights over the back door.

Sally stopped and opened a back gate and walked to the back door. David hesitated by the gate, and she turned to look at him.

"You coming?"

He took a deep breath and stepped up to the door. She let him inside, shut the door and they stood very close together. He was aware of her perfume and the smell of cigarette smoke on her breath. There was a perceptible heat coming from her and he felt her proximity as a tangible force.

Her eyes were a brilliant blue and they glittered as they asked each other the unspoken question.

They tore at each other, clothes barely surviving being removed. She reached into his underpants and grasped his shaft.

"Wow!"

"It's not everyone's cup of tea," he panted. "Some of my girlfriends complained."

"Their loss," she grunted as she mashed her lips against his, tongue invading his mouth.

He finally managed to undo her brassiere, why did the catch have to be so complicated? Her breasts were warm and soft and heavy and wonderful in his hands.

She walked backwards, pulling him to the sofa where she sat down, and he dropped to his knees between her legs.

Pulling the gusset of her knickers to one side, he asked, "Are you ready for this?"

By way of reply she rubbed his crown up and down between her sex lips, coating it with her lubrication.

"Now," she said, and he pushed slowly forward. Her eyes widened as he gently eased deeper inside her.

"Sweet Jesus!" she exclaimed. "You're enormous!"

"I often get my partner to go cowboy so they can control things. I'd hate to be as big as some of the porn stars. They must struggle to get partners."

"You talk too much."

He started to withdraw, and she gasped only to gasp again as he pushed. Back and forth until she had taken his entire length in her silken depths. Eyes closed and mouth open, she held his hips and proceeded to guide the pace. He'd almost forgotten how wonderful this could feel, this union of flesh. Every so often she would squeeze him with her internal muscles and grin at his answering huff.

He reached down and gently rubbed his thumb on her clit.

"Oh, you bastard!" she sighed, her breath coming faster. "Oh God! Harder!"

He complied. They built the pace and the intensity until they were back to assaulting one another before she shrieked and clamped down on him, pushing him over the edge, the veins standing out in his neck, with an orgasm so intense he thought he might have a stroke.

He withdrew - provoking another gasp from her - and fell beside her on the sofa, waiting for his heart rate to subside to something normal.

She turned to look at him, hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. "You can come again!"

"I might need a few minutes," he mumbled into the cushion.

She cackled and he turned his face to hers and smiled.

***

Seconds

The next morning David awoke to a particularly contented feeling. He lay on his back staring up at the ceiling, filled with delicious nothingness. Sally was coming round today, and he was looking forward to it very much. Therefore, there was some tidying up to do in the spare bedroom; there was no way he was going to entertain her on this bed.

Remembering whose bed it was, brought a wave of guilt. This wasn't like last night which you could explain away as a one-night stand.

And loneliness he realised. Even in a marriage you could be lonely, and he hadn't even realised that until now. It was possible to endure quite a lot if you just let it wash over you, but it required a special kind of blindness.

Rolling out of bed and standing up, he reached for a dressing gown. The only heating in the house was from the open fires downstairs. There was a small fireplace in the bedroom, but it was no longer safe to use.

He stood in thought for a moment. Now he was planning to be unfaithful. No excuse for his behaviour. David put his hands on his hips and frowned. He could turn her away, even now. And then what, back to the deep chill?

His thoughts returned to the events of the previous night and a familiar warmth started to build in his groin. Right about then he knew he wasn't going to turn her away. He was going to be unfaithful to his wife, but for while at least, he would feel alive again. Repercussions would come later.

A little while later, the sheets on the guest room bed had been changed, the junk had been, if not disposed of, then at least arranged in a less haphazard fashion. He ran the hoover over the stairs and then thought guiltily that if he had been this willing for Jen then things might not be so difficult between them.

This thought occurred to him again while he was cleaning the bathroom. He sighed, the real problem was that for Jen work always came first and for him fun would always take precedence. Which was fine if there's just the two of you but when there are children involved, they must come first, don't they? It would be lovely to have some time to themselves, but they couldn't afford a babysitter. His parents were dead, hers lived too far away. David was an only child and Jen's sister still lived with her parents.

Part of the reason for living in this godforsaken place was Jen's need to put distance between herself and her conservative family with their expectations about the proper roles for men and women. Jen's father hadn't bothered to hide his disappointment in his daughter's choice of spouse. At first it had been liberating. Only as time passed did they realise they were trapped in a place intensely conservative in its outlook, wary of outsiders.

He pushed the gloom aside and carried on trying to make the place a little more presentable.

Two hours later, showered and dressed in clean clothes, he waited and fidgeted in the kitchen, trying, and failing to read a book. At last, there was a tap at the door, and he ran to open it.

She stood on the doorstep in her trademark jacket and jeans. Her eyeliner accentuated the deep blue of her eyes and the sunshine brought out crimson highlights in her hair. She smiled, slightly bashful in his regard.

"Can I come in?"

He stood to one side, and she brushed past him. The light touch and the smell of her perfume made him dizzy. She took off her coat and hung it on one of the hooks by the door. The snug white tee-shirt emphasised the rich swell of her breasts.

"Oh my," was all he could manage.

She laughed, turned around and stuck her bum out at him, looking over her shoulder and pouting.

He surged across the short gap between them and pushed her up against the wall, lightly biting the exposed flesh on the back of her neck and. She braced herself, hands above her head. Her rump pushed into and gently ground against his crotch. His hands slid up to cup and stroke her breasts. Her nipples made stiff points in his palms.

They stayed like this for a couple of minutes, moving against each other, then she broke free and turned to face him.

"How do you want me?"

In answer he took her hand and led her up to the bedroom.

He knelt in front of her wrestling with the buttons on her jeans.

"Next time wear a skirt! And stockings."

"Stockings! What is it with men and stockings?"

He found what his mother would have called 'tarty' women attractive. Women where there was rather less guesswork involved.

"What are you smiling about?" she asked him, looking down at where he was fumbling with her clothes.

"I was thinking about your question. About why I like stockings. About why you would look amazing in that tee-shirt, a short skirt, and some black stockings. Would you wear that for me?"

"I might," she said. "Why, who knows what I might do given the right incentive."

Jeans finally vanquished, he started kissing his way up her thigh. Then switched to the other thigh, alternating kisses with little licks, moving ever upwards.

"Are you going to --" Her words terminated abruptly.

He eased the fabric of her knickers to one side and ran his tongue along the top of her slit. Somewhere above him he heard a gasp. 'I'll give you incentive', he thought.

She opened her legs slightly to give him better access and then, using his head for balance, put one foot up on the bed.

"Mmm," he hummed and dived in, running his tongue from the bottom of her cleft to the top. He gently sucked each of the plump lips in turn and then ran the flat of his tongue over them, parting them more fully. He pushed his tongue up inside her, revelling in the animal scent of her and the pressure of her hand on the back of his head.

He knew that a lot of women got more satisfaction from it than penetration. There had been a lot of wincing before he had got the message, but he discovered he enjoyed cunnilingus. Increasingly it seemed to him that one of the greatest pleasures to be had from sex was from making someone else feel good.

Sally's breathing was becoming more laboured, and she wondered how he had learned to do this? Only a couple of her partners had ever gone down on her and neither of them had been remotely as skilled as this. She'd had to show them where her clit was and what to do with it, which, it had to be said, was a bit of a passion killer. Some of her other partners seemed repulsed by the idea and one tosser of note had described it as 'unmanly'.

His tongue flicked over her clit and, knees buckling, she staggered.

"Let me sit down!"

On firmer ground, David resumed his duties between her legs and her hands returned to the back of his head. She wasn't far off, she could feel it but without warning, he slid two fingers inside her and touched a place she didn't even know existed.

She shrieked and bucked, spasms in her belly and flashes behind her eyes, and he kept at her. Her orgasm crashing through her, on and on in vast waves until she could bear no more and pushed him away.

Lying on her back, looking up at the ceiling, the shock of the experience was still washing around in her head. She felt him get on the bed beside her.

"You okay?"

She looked at his face, still glistening with her wetness and wearing a slightly smug grin.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?"

"I told you I got complaints from some of my ex's when I tried to do the whole 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am'. They encouraged me to slow down and, er, get them ready, so to speak."

She considered this. "So, have you got me ready?"

"What do you think?"

She pushed him over on to his back and straddled his hips. Grasping the bottom of her tee shirt she pulled it over head in one motion and then reached behind her to attend to her bra strap.

"You ought to do away with the bra," he said admiringly. "You've got great boobs."

"I might for you, you old perv, but I'm not going to put myself on display for all and sundry to gawp at. I'd have another few names to go with the ones I've got by the end of the day. Besides, I don't want my tits to end up round my knees by the time I'm ... I'm ... older."

"What other names?" he asked, puzzled.

"Never you mind."

She rose on to her knees and shuffled forwards.

Her breasts swayed entrancingly, and he reached up to cradle them in his hands. She was struck anew how gentle he was, unlike her other lovers. Then she reached down to grasp his erection and position it just ... so. Allowing gravity to take control, she eased herself down until at least half of him was inside her. At least it felt like she was half full, even having been 'made ready', as he put it. Anyway, time to wipe that smug grin off his face!

David thought that if this wasn't heaven then it must run it a very close second. Agonisingly slowly, Sally took more and more of him until their bodies met. Then she started to move very slowly on top of him, a little twist of her hips and a backward and forward motion that seemed to touch every nerve ending and pleasure centre he had. Throwing his head back, he slammed his arms into the mattress and took handfuls of the sheets. She picked up the pace and combined it with a bit of up and down almost like she was belly dancing on his cock.

She was going to make him pay for that trick with his fingers. He hoped he was going to survive the experience.

***

"A white blouse, like for school."

The sales assistant cocked an eyebrow.

"It's for a party. You know, vicars and tarts," Sally said, inwardly cursing her need to explain herself. There could have been any number of reasons for her purchase. It could be for a daughter, but apart from her not having one, none of the schools in the area demanded school uniform, except for the private school and she wouldn't have been buying the blouse in here if she could afford those fees.

Her upset brought a host of other unwanted things to the surface: the failed relationships, the dead-end job that covered the bills but allowed nothing else, the stuffy, small-minded community. Then behind all that, a truth that she couldn't yet accept; her best years were behind her. Barely suppressed rage and despair were her constant companions.

Even this thing with David was just another rattling of the bars, a two fingered gesture to her neighbours. She felt a tingle between her legs and the colour in her cheeks as she thought about why she was buying the blouse. It couldn't last, of course, his wife would be back soon.

Later, in one of the town pubs, she was working on her second G&T when Angela breezed in, all blonde hair with dark roots and plum coloured lip gloss, clutching bags of post-Christmas sales.

"Hello Sal! Fancy seeing you here! Can I get you one?"

Sally briefly considered the wisdom of a third drink at lunchtime and then nodded.

After visiting the bar, Angela installed herself in the alcove, shuffling her bags under the bench and plonking the glasses on the table.

Sally had known Angela since primary school, and she was the closest thing to a friend Sally had. Of all the people she knew, Angela was the only one, Sally's parents included, that didn't hold her history against her.

Angela lit a cigarette and blew smoke into the air. "In for the sales?"

"No."

"What's in the bag, then?" Angela said, cheerfully nosey.

"Nothing special, just a blouse."

"Let's see it, then."

"It's just a plain blouse."

"You going for a job or summat?"

"No, wait!" she exclaimed as Angela made a grab for the bag.

"What's the big secret? It's a bit on the small side for you, what with your tits 'n all. What you up to, Sally Emmens?"

Sally flushed. "It's for a party, you know, vicars and tarts."

Even as she spoke, she realised there was no way that was going to fly with Angela.

"A party? I haven't heard of one. Where?"

"You don't know them," said Sally desperately. The problem was that that was an impossibility. In a community like this, not only did everyone know everyone else, but everyone knew everyone you knew.

Angela looked sceptical and pointed at her with the cigarette. "You're up to something! 'Fess up!"

Resignedly, Sally sighed, "You mustn't tell anyone." Another non-starter. The die was cast.

Angela's face lit with glee and, resting her elbows on the table, leaned in.

"You know David? David Piper?"

"That new family?"

New family. They must have been in the village five years. They'd still be 'the new family' decades hence.

"I got off with him at the weekend."

"You never! No one's said anything."

"I asked him back to mine and he came. No one saw anything."

"Wasn't just a snog, then?" Angela nodded at the bag with the blouse in it.

Drink made her reckless, she wanted to shock Angela, which was unlikely given Angela's cheerful attitude to casual sex.

"It was amazing! You wouldn't think it to look at him, but it was fantastic. He went down on me."

This being a rarity for either of them.

"He never!" Angela exclaimed rather too loudly.

Heads turned and Sally hissed, "Keep your voice down! Anyway, I came like a rocket! I saw stars!"

"Bloody hell!"

"And his cock is so big, I nearly couldn't take it."

"David Piper's packing a big todger! Who'd have thought it! He doesn't look like nothing."

Unconsciously, Angela licked her lips. Her tastes ran to physically imposing types but, as she had discovered, that did not correlate with other essential dimensions. And Angela liked a big one.

Sally was talking. "I had to go on top the next time. I don't mind a good shag but he's too big for that unless you're, you know, good and ready."

"Oh my God, you dirty bitch! The next time? How many times have you done it?"

Sally was starting to regret being so free with Angela. "Three."

"Since Saturday? That's every day!" Angela's eyes fell on the bag. "So, what's the top for?"

Sally felt defensive. "He ... he likes it."

Angela hooted with laughter, earning them another glance from the rest of the room.

"The old perv!"

Sally giggled, "That's what I said!"

"What about the rest of the outfit? Don't tell me, vicars and tarts, short skirt, black stockings?"

Sally blushed and nodded.

"Well, well, well! You're a very naughty girl, Sally Emmens and no mistake! When you seeing him next?"

"That's my business."

"But you are seeing him again?"

"Until his wife comes back, I guess."

Angela sat back into the alcove seat, took a last drag on her cigarette, and looked at Sally, who was contemplating her glass. Well, why shouldn't she have a bit of fun?

She remembered how Sally had changed at school as puberty hit. At fourteen she was Miss Meek and Mild. By sixteen she was less mild than wild, staying out late with the bad boys.