David and Jen

"Are you alright?" he asked and was reassured when she nodded. His gaze fell on the object in her lap.

"What in the world ..." and his voice trailed off as he put two and two together.

A compact cream vibrator lay on her skirt.

"I thought it would help," she said, her voice muffled by her hands.

David slumped into his seat; eyes closed as the adrenaline surge ebbed away. "Help," he said weakly.

"Marjorie said you were very big and that it might do to be prepared."

Her voice was timid, and David turned towards her. She was looking down into her lap, her face crimson with embarrassment.

"I'm going to have words with that woman," he said and started to laugh.

***

Back at her house, they sat in silence at the kitchen table with two mugs of tea.

After a while David put his hand gently on top of hers. "Please don't do that again. For both our sakes."

She coloured. "I can't apologise enough. I risked our lives with my stupidity."

"We're still in one piece so chalk it up to experience, eh?"

She put her other hand on top of his.

"I'm so sorry. I don't normally come like that, you know, with it inside me. It took me completely by surprise."

"Me too," he murmured.

"I'll still pay you, of course."

He frowned, the idea of taking money for sex was still at some fundamental level distasteful.

"I can't do that, I haven't ... err ..." and his voice trailed off in search of the right way to phrase it.

"Fucked me?" she said.

David blinked. Women being direct about sex was still a novelty for him. His expected narrative was inverted. Never mind that in ordinary circumstances he would never contemplate chatting up this blonde corporate type but, in the unlikely event that he did, probably after a couple of glasses of wine, there would be the whole elaborate dance to negotiate before any kind of bedroom activity would even be hinted at.

David liked to think he wasn't completely clueless. Before he married Jen, he'd had a dozen or so relationships that mostly lasted a few months. Sex was very much a third or fourth or fifth date thing. But that experience was all from before he met Jen. He was beginning to realise that he was a novice in a world of more mature women capable of knowing what they wanted, and then having no qualms about getting it.

"Um, yeah," he said a little sheepishly, looking down at their hands.

"Aren't you curious as to how I got the vibrator out so quickly?"

He looked at her in surprise. A small smile was playing around her lips. "I wasn't wearing any knickers."

There was a slight pause. "I'm still not."

There was another moment while they looked at each other, and a tension oozed into the space between them. David licked his lips.

She reached down to grasp the hem of her skirt and lifted it slowly up, revealing flawless white skin. The curve of her thigh eased into that of her buttock. He looked up to find her looking at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her eyes questioning.

"Stand up!" he growled, and she giggled, jumping to her feet. Without her heels she was a little shorter than he was. David moved her mug and then picked her up and sat her on the table. She opened her legs and he moved between them.

He paused, unsure how to proceed. Should he kiss her? He kissed Em as naturally as breathing whereas he'd never kissed Phyllis Tindall and wouldn't know how to go about it. Rosanna solved his conundrum by starting to unbutton her blouse. By the fourth or fifth button he realised she wasn't wearing a brassiere.

"Undergarments not in fashion this year?" he asked, and she looked up at him and smiled.

He ran his hands up the smooth warm skin of her legs, reaching under her skirt to cup his hands around her arse. This brought them closer such that the bulge in his trousers was pressing against her mound. The last of the buttons parted company with their buttonholes and there was more vanilla flesh exposed. She shrugged the blouse off her shoulders, and it fell part way down her back revealing her small conical breasts, tipped with coral pink nipples, already standing proud.

He bent down and took one of them in his mouth, alternating between nibbling it gently with his lips and running his tongue around her areola. She hummed happily and put one of her hands to the back of his head while supporting herself with the other on the table behind her.

He switched to the other breast encouraged by her response. Em didn't much care for her breasts to be touched, always keeping her basque on during their lovemaking. Phyllis wanted to be fucked without preamble. He was reminded of a scene from a sitcom and chuckled.

"Something funny, David?"

"Caroline of Brunswick," he answered and then to forestall any further distractions he knelt and kissed her thigh. The scent of her arousal was deep in his nostrils and his senses. She was almost completely smooth except for the strip of soft blonde hair that he had learned was called a Brazilian.

Sally had introduced him to the practice, and he had to admit that it made the whole thing much more sensual. He could allow his tongue to roam freely, here, and here, and ... here. He felt Rosanna twitch as he slid the tip of his tongue across her clit.

"Oh yes, that's it," she whispered, "You just keep doing that, David, and we'll get on fine."

Her lubrication started to ooze into his mouth, tart and slightly metallic. He swallowed greedily and went back for more. She started to breathe more heavily, and he slipped two crossed fingers into her opening, corkscrewing them in and out.

David returned his attentions to her clit, alternately licking it with the flat of his tongue and then sucking it in between his lips and gently nibbling it. Her grip on the back of his head became firmer, pressing him into her sex. He ducked down to lick from just above her sphincter, up over her perineum and into her dripping slit, pausing to remove his fingers so that he could explore the silky textures inside.

Rosanna's thighs were trembling, and David spared a hand to release his cock from his trousers. He stood and placed the thick crown of his shaft between her labia, rubbing it up and down, anointing it with her slippery juices. She stared up at him, her lips parted, and her hair tousled. Her breath came in short pants.

She groaned out loud as he penetrated her, her sex lips stretched to accommodate his girth. It was all he could do to keep his own orgasm under control, she was so wonderfully tight. She crossed her ankles on his shoulders, and he took the opportunity to grasp her thighs for leverage.

"Harder," she urged.

He pulled almost all the way out before savagely spearing deep into her. She let out a shriek.

"Again!"

He built up speed until he was driving into her relentlessly with deep strokes. She put her hand down to where they were joined and rubbed her clit. She screamed and her cunt clamped down hard on him. It was all he needed to pitch him over the edge, and he rammed forward, emptying great gouts of cum into her.

***

She reached into her clutch for his payment.

"I feel like asking for danger money after today!" David laughed.

Rosanna eyed him speculatively. "Very well. Here's seventy-five."

"Whoa, I was only joking!" he protested.

She smirked. "I like to be adventurous, David. Think you can keep up?"

He looked at the notes in his hand, this was what it was all about after all. What did she mean by adventurous?

***

Three Women

April

Unusually, Em had rung him at work and asked if he could call on her in the early evening. Delighted at the unexpected request, he laughed and assented.

His line manager, Claire scowled at him. They had a difficult working relationship as she suspected, correctly, that he put in only just enough effort to get the work done.

He'd wrong-footed her on a couple of occasions such as when some project work for another department had brought plaudits. She knew he was capable of much more but had no idea which levers to pull to get it.

Her bad vibes bounced off his Em-shaped force field. His colleague, Sheila smiled at him, she knew he was under a lot of pressure with his marriage problems, but he seemed to be a bit happier lately.

He left work at the earliest opportunity, leaving Claire looking as if she was sucking a lemon. It couldn't last of course; she'd find something else to complain about; but at least in the short term her capacity for malice was much diminished.

Early spring sunshine made the ride home a joyous experience. The air was still cool enough to be useful but not cold enough to require gloves or a jacket. There was even a tail wind, truly the gods were smiling.

At home he quickly showered and changed into fresh clothes. Slamming the front door behind him he mounted the bike and scooted off down the road.

At 6:30 precisely, he rang the bell next the yellow door. As she let him in, he grabbed her round the waist and lifted her into the air, twirling round and round in the hallway. She shrieked and then laughed, putting her hands on his shoulders.

"David, what's got into you!"

He set her down and kissed her firmly. "Spring fever I guess."

She smiled and he fell into her warm hazel eyes. The moment stretched as they gazed at each other.

"Perhaps I should close the door," Em said, and broke contact to attend to that but she returned immediately to take his hand and lead him into the sitting room.

There was a bottle of red wine and two glasses on the table. They sat side by side on the sofa still holding hands, neither wishing to break the spell.

David poured the wine and with that they let go of each other and sat in silence for a bit. Some threshold had been crossed. Their 'arrangement' had been in place for three months and each looked forward to their encounters with increasing pleasure.

"So," he said. "What brought this on? I thought the rule was once a fortnight."

"Rules are made to be broken, David. If truth be told, I was taking a bath just after lunch and my thoughts turned to our last tryst."

David smiled in genuine pleasure, only Em would come out with 'tryst' in conversation. She saw him smile and grinned back at him. Her eyes sparkled.

"Unfortunately, I kept thinking about it and got myself rather worked up."

She looked away demurely and took a sip of her wine.

David assumed a concerned expression. "Is there a remedy for your condition?"

Em looked at him sideways. "I think there must be some of that spring fever going about."

She crossed her legs and pulled the hem up to show the top of her favourite navy-blue stockings.

"Mrs Barrett, are you by any chance craving sexual satisfaction?"

She arched her eyebrows. "Enough of your fine words, Mr Piper, I've been thinking upon that lovely big cock of yours all afternoon and I am in need of release."

"Indeed. Then if you would be so good as to part those elegant pins as widely as you can, I'll do my best to oblige."

David slid to his knees on the carpet and shuffled round to face her. She unfolded her leg and swung it up and over his head in one clean movement. He knew that she had once taken ballet quite seriously and was still very limber. Her regular visits to the class in town kept her belly flat and skin taut.

He lifted her skirt and found the fine brown hair between her legs matted and damp. Her sex, normally quite shy and retiring was in quite a different condition. His mouth suddenly dry, he stared.

He looked up to find her inspecting him, head on one side.

"Cock, David."

"Perhaps you could help me with that; I don't seem to be able to concentrate at the moment."

She grinned, leant forward, and slipped her hand down the front of his trousers. He hadn't bothered with underwear. Her cool fingers grasped his erection and lightly stroked the crown.

"This seems to be working properly, David. Perhaps you should remove any obstructions?"

He fumbled at the fastenings and his trousers sagged around his thighs. He shuffled forward a little more until they made contact. She enveloped him effortlessly and he sighed at the sheer animal pleasure of it.

Em leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. His heart lurched in his chest, and he shivered. Was this why the working girls forbade their tricks to embrace them? This contact somehow more intimate than the joining at the hips?

She ran her nails down his arm and then, seeing his reaction, reached round and ran them lightly down his back. He arched and stretched, eyes closed, driving himself a little deeper inside her.

"That's better!" he heard her murmur.

***

Later, sitting with his feet up on the chaise longue with Em's head on his lap in a warm post coital drowse; they watched Pride and Prejudice on the television. Mr Darcy rose dripping from the lake to the consternation of Elizabeth Bennett.

David buried his nose in her hair and murmured, "O to be one of the richest men in England, and so handsome!"

She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. "You'll do for me, David Piper."

His heart swelled in his chest. How was it that this wonderful woman was without a partner? He gathered her into his arms and embraced her.

"Why David, you old romantic!" she laughed.

"You're too good for me, Marjorie Barrett!" he exclaimed. "How is it that you are on your own?"

She sat up and looked at him seriously. "Because I'm invisible, David."

He stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you know? After the age of 30 a woman gradually fades from view. No man sees her. Answer me honestly now, did you ever imagine yourself sharing," she paused, obviously looking for just the right form of words, "affection with me? As I believe I told you at our first meeting, there is no shortage of men happy to share my bed, but my life?"

David looked down at his hands, embarrassed by the truth of her statement and appalled at the picture it revealed to him.

"Quite," she said kindly. "You're still a bit young to see that in life. Women of all ages like men of all ages. Men of all ages like young women."

She gestured at the television.

"If Miss Ehle continues to act in motion pictures, then roles will become less varied: someone's mother, someone's aunt. Mr Firth will doubtless play romantic leads into late middle age and possibly beyond. If he appeared in public, all gorgeous and silver haired with some young lovely on his arm, there would be nothing more than a bit of sly tittle-tattle. Heaven forfend that the roles be reversed! Try changing the gender on some common sayings, 'toy boy', 'bit of skirt'."

David didn't know what to say. It sounded like one of those awful things that brooked no solution.

"Come," she said, "I've made you melancholy. How may I lift your spirits?"

He grinned. "Perhaps some more physical exertion will serve to divert us?"

She put her hands behind his neck and kissed him. "Why not?"

***

May

It was late spring and there was more than a hint of summer in the air. There was virtually no wind which was a real rarity in the flatlands. The sun flooded down, and the road was a blinding white line. David squinted against the glare. He was kitted out in tee-shirt and shorts, his legs tanned and muscular from his cycling but his arms pale above the shoulder. Rosanna looked like a 50s film starlet behind the wheel, with her be-ribboned blonde waves and Raybans.

David marvelled at how they never seemed to see anyone working the fields. There would be evidence, a tractor here, a trailer there: the ubiquitous sprinkler guns ticking away, but nary a soul.

Once again, they were out in the middle of nowhere and somehow, nestling next the elevated causeway, there was a little patch of woodland. Rosanna turned into a dirt track, parked in some shade, and killed the engine.

"You're bonkers, you know that?" he said as she led him between the trees. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," she said cryptically and led him on.

He thought the trees might be willow. They reminded him of the ones that lined the roads in southern France where he had gone hitch hiking before he met Jen.

David frowned at the memory and the feelings it stirred. It felt ignoble to resent his family, but the arrival of the children had put him into a box. His rash act at New Year was now something both an accepted fact in that it certainly wasn't a secret and was also strangely very much in the past. There seemed to be a disconnection between what went before and what had happened since. New David was not the same as Old David.

On top of this, bizarrely he felt more at ease with being paid for sex. Somehow it wasn't infidelity when it was a job. Over the recent months, the combination of the extra money and his freedom meant he had felt more alive than he had in a long while. Maybe money couldn't buy you happiness, but it sure made things a lot more comfortable.

He ducked under a branch and stood next to Rosanna, completely taken aback by the sparkling water stretching away in front of them. "Wow!" he said. There had been no hint of this from the road. She smiled, pulled the travel rug from the bag, and cast it onto the grass.

The next surprise came when she produced two flutes from the covered wicker basket. David experienced a touch of unreality; this was not what he had been expecting to do when he got up that morning. Rosanna passed him a bottle of champagne and he looked at it in some consternation.

Taking a deep breath, he peeled the foil away and investigated how the wire closure worked. Turned out there was a kind of key that lay flat against the neck. He untwisted the wire to release the cork and realised at the last moment that the cork really wanted to leave the bottle.

There was a sharp retort and the cork disappeared out over the water. Rosanna passed him a glass and he made another rookie error, sucking the foam from the lip of the glass as it frothed over. Eventually he managed to pour two glasses of wine and passed one to her, reddening under her amused expression.

His embarrassment eased as they stretched out beside each other and sipped their wine while the dragonflies darted amongst the reeds and the sun made everything pastel.

He lay back and looked up at the cerulean vault of the sky and sighed contentedly. He was slightly fuzzy from the wine, but he was also a little drunk on the whole perfection of the moment. Even without the company of a beautiful -- and available -- woman this was fabulous. Then Rosanna's face appeared in his field of view, the sunlight making a halo of her hair, and he smiled in contentment.

"Everything alright?" she enquired, lying with her chin resting on his chest.

"This is perfect," he said. "Thank you so much."

She smiled lazily. "I thought you'd enjoy it. I thought it might give you an appetite."

"Oh, tell me you didn't bring food!" he cried.

"No, you klutz!" she laughed. "I was thinking of a different appetite."

"Ohhh, I see. I'm willing to bet- not very much mind -- that that dress is the only thing you're wearing."

She sat up and he heard a rustle. When she leaned back down again, he was quite certain she was naked. He ran his hand uninterrupted down her back, and in turn felt her hand slip into his shorts. He was already semi-erect, and a couple of gentle squeezes at the base of his shaft brought him to full tumescence. He winced as the tip rubbed against the zipper of his shorts.

Rosanna had turned around to deal with the fastenings and her thigh was next his ear. It didn't take much encouragement to get her to sit astride his chest and he was confronted with her aroused sex just inches from his face. He spent a couple of moments contemplating it in lustful pleasure, then thought that it didn't do to keep the lady waiting and pulled her down on to his mouth.