Forbidden Lizzy

I kissed her on the forehead and jumped to my feet. My eyes darted around the room for my clothes. I quickly grabbed them and started pulling them on my body. I had no time to check whether it was Roger's car or not, but it must be around that time.

Lizzy continued to lie on the bed, trembling.

"Lizzy, someone's coming!" I hissed.

Lizzy's eyes were terrified, but she didn't move. She just shook her head.

"Mark, I can barely move," she whispered.

"Try baby," I said. My brain barely registered that I'd just called her 'baby.' "Please try."

She shifted herself, slowly, like a drunk, or someone who had been hit by a bus, and started grasping at her clothes.

The purr of the engine came closer and turned into the drive at the front of the house. This was it; Roger was here.

With feverish hands, I pulled my jeans up my legs. My dick was still wet, raw, and semi-hard. My brain whirred as if I was caught in a building with enemy troops all around.

"Here's the plan," I rasped. "If we're asked, tell your dad that you let me into the house... but you were feeling ill... so you grabbed me a beer... then you went to bed because you needed to rest..."

"Yeah..." Lizzy said, in a faltering voice, "good plan."

"Turn your covers over to hide all the stains," I said as I pulled my shirt over my shoulders.

Then I had to end it.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I said.

I heard the engine stop and the clunk of a car door opening.

I darted over to her and kissed her on the forehead. Then on the lips. Then on the lips a second time.

Footsteps started coming towards the house.

"I've got to go," I said. Then I ran out of Lizzy's room and thundered along the landing.

A key entered the lock of the front door.

I dived into the bathroom and closed the door quietly behind me. Then I heard a voice, but it wasn't Roger's; it was Judy's.

"Hey, is anyone home?" Judy called.

Lizzy didn't respond. Shit. I had to say something; it would be more suspicious if I didn't.

"Hi, Judy, I'm here," I called out. "I'm just in the bathroom. Your dad should be home soon."

There was a pause. My muscles tensed.

"Oh... why are you using the upstairs one?" she asked. "Is the one down here out of action?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I was just checking on Lizzy," I said. "She's not feeling well."

There was another pause—a much longer one this time. My heart raced.

Finally, "Right... okay," Judy's voice replied, with more than a little suspicion. "What's wrong with her?"

"Just a stomach ache, I think," I replied, desperately hoping Lizzy was listening to this and remembering the extra detail I was throwing in.

"Should I get her a glass of water or something?" Judy asked.

After another pause, I heard Lizzie's voice come to the rescue.

"No, I'm fine," Lizzy said.

And with that, the questioning ended. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I looked at myself carefully in the mirror. I checked my shirt and my jeans. They looked a bit ruffled, but they were acceptable. My hair was okay too. My dick was still all slimy from cum and lube, but nobody could see that. Probably, the only thing that was going to give me away was my inability to lie convincingly.

I needed to convince myself that I hadn't fucked Lizzy. I needed to believe that I'd arrived, she'd greeted me at the door, but told me she was feeling ill. She'd got me a beer, then gone up to bed. I'd paid a very brief visit to check she was okay, as I thought I heard her... coughing. Yes, coughing, that sounded kind of plausible, then I'd needed to use the bathroom, so went to the nearest one, which happened to be upstairs. There, done. That's what had happened.

I ran it through my head a few times, then took a deep breath and went downstairs. I decided to adopt a slightly somber expression. I wanted to appear concerned that Lizzy was ill, but not so much that Judy might get alarmed and choose to pay her sister a helpful visit. I went into the living room and picked up my beer, which had become unpleasantly warm. Judy entered the room.

"So Lizzy's ill is she?" she said, arms crossed.

"Yeah," I said.

"She was okay this morning," Judy said.

"Ah, really?" I said. "Maybe it was something she ate?"

"Maybe," said Judy. She stared at me intently, studying my expression.

Then she flipped her hair and marched out of the room. Whether that was good or bad, I did not know.

* * * *

It was just after 7 pm, and I was back at my house. I sat on the sofa, rocking with a combination of terror and euphoria. We'd gotten away with it, or at least it had seemed that way. Judy had given up questioning, and the meeting with Roger had gone as well as it could. I was acting very uneasy, and Roger had asked if I was okay. I simply said I was feeling unwell. I guess that was similar to Lizzy's own excuse, but he seemed to buy it. Maybe I was becoming better at lying.

I didn't know what to think or feel. One second my mind would focus on Lizzy: kissing her, fucking her, and holding her gently in my arms. Cuddling her had been even better than fucking her. Then the next second, my mind would swing back to the near-miss with Judy, and her obvious suspicion. What had gone on in that house after I'd left? Had Judy grilled Lizzy? Had they found some cum stains? Had I left a sock or something in her room? No, that couldn't be true. I'd checked and had all my clothes... but maybe there was something.

I'd decided, very firmly, in my head that nothing further was going to happen with Lizzy. Our little fuck-session had to be a one-off. It absolutely had to be. However much I wanted her, however much I craved her, it was now over. We'd fucked, and it was done. I didn't want the stress, I didn't want to betray the trust of someone who'd had my back for so long, and I didn't want to put my livelihood at risk.

Then my phone buzzed.

I looked at the message. It was from Lizzy.

-----Lizzy: It's not out of my system.

My fingers quickly typed a message back across the screen.

-----Me: It's not out of mine either.

* * * *

Hi everyone,

That's it for now - what did you think? I will write more if there's a demand for it. I've got plenty more of this tale in my head!

If you liked it, or even if you didn't, please leave a comment or send me a message. It's what authors thrive on and what keeps us writing.

It is always incredibly motivating to hear from readers who have enjoyed my work. It is also incredibly helpful to receive honest and constructive criticism.

Yours faithfully,

Alex