Frankenstein's Monster

I can honestly say that the worst day of my life, worse even than the day my father died, was the day my wife found out about my affair. Not just because of the horror of the day itself -- the screaming, the shouting, dropping the kids off with a friend so she could go and confront my lover herself -- or the pain and embarrassment of the days and weeks that followed. It was the effect that carried on for years after even up to the present day: the loss of friends, the self-loathing, the slow realisation that I had damaged our relationship beyond repair, that our sex life was essentially over, but that we were going to have to keep up the pretence for the kids.

So, ten years later, when the roles were reversed and I discovered Katy's infidelity, you can imagine there were a mixture of emotions: anger, incredulity, and a certain amount of self-righteousness. After all the grief that she had given me over the years, she had gone and done exactly the same thing -- the hypocrite!

I found out in the way that I guess a lot of people find out these days -- a text message. I'm hadn't been in the habit of screening her calls or anything creepy like that; Katy had nipped out to the shops and left her mobile in the kitchen and when it went ping, I thought I'd see who it was as she was expecting a delivery at some point. It wasn't an unrecognised number, but it only had an initial L against the message, and tee first few words grabbed my attention -- "Can't wait..."

Can't wait for what? I wondered? Chances were it was spam texting and I'd be able to delete it instantly anyway, so I pressed on it.

"Can't wait to kiss you again!" There it was in black and white. I had just begun to scroll back through previous messages (expressions of love, of lust and desire; arrangements for meetings; familiar conspiratorial messages) when the door opened and Katy walked back in. There was a moment when her face went from happy to perplexed to scared shitless as she looked at me, then the phone in my hands and the penny dropped.

This time, there was no screaming and shouting, there was weeping and sobbing and hand wringing and apology after apology after apology because she was so, so sorry. And not in a Father Jack way. I mainly stood and glowered as she collapsed into a sobbing pool of snot and tears in front of me but there was one question I wants answering.

"Who is he?" I asked in a pause in her crying.

"What?" she asked, and genuinely seemed bemused.

"Who is he?" I repeated. "Who the fuck is L?" I'd been wracking my brain for men whose name began with L and come with nothing apart from the fact that L may be for Loverboy, but that sounded very unlike Katy. Almost as unlikely as her having an affair in the first place.

I could see the realisation dawn on her face, and she looked down at her hands and muttered an answer that I couldn't quite hear.

"What?" I shouted at her, and for the first time in minutes she looked me in the eye.

"Lorna," she whispered. "It's Lorna."

I was stunned. If this were a film, we'd probably go into one of those montages that are supposed to show one of the characters inner thoughts preceded by a zooming close up of the characters eye. You know what I mean -- like in Harry Potter when he's learning Occlumency from Snape and it backfires and he reads Snapes mind instead, all swirly and out of focus.

The first image would probably go back something like 20 years to when we were all working together. Lorna was a couple of years younger than the pair of us so was the new girl on the block -- the pretty, slim, cute, single new girl with the big smile and big heart. She'd fitted in straight away to our little group and become a personal wank-bank favourite of my own despite her being a little on the prudish side. Or maybe because of her prudish side -- what's more of a turn on than being the one who released the inner slut of the goody two shoes. She had a face that just begged to be cummed on, long dark hair that I wanted to wrap around my cock, tits that begged to be sucked and legs that just screamed out to be stroked. She quickly went from new girl to Katy's best friend -- even when we all left the company, we were there for each other, we were there when she split up from a bad boyfriend, there when she met her future husband in a cheesy nightclub. They were bridesmaids at each other's weddings, god mothers to each other's children. Lorna came over to babysit when Katy went into labour with child number two, it was Lorna who the kids were dumped on when my affair was discovered. And throughout it all she was gorgeous, even as her body changed with children and with age: spreading, getting curvier and bigger, especially her tits and arse. She was the same modestly dressed prude.

And now she was fucking my wife.

Is that enough for the montage?

I must admit, the wind was seriously removed from my sails. My anger was replaced by three-parts bewilderment and one-part curiosity. More questions began to surface: the long walks in the country, the trips to London to see a show... had they really happened? Or were they just part of the smokescreen?

"How long?" I asked.

"We never meant it to happen..."

"How long?"

"... it just sort of...."

"How long?"

"...one night on the train back...."

"How bloody long?" I shouted, interrupting her explanation cum apology.

"About a year," she mumbled, "Maybe 18 months..."

"Where?" I asked. This was starting to be fun, remembering all the shouted questions from 10 years ago and slinging them back.

"We booked a hotel a couple of times and... and...."

"Here?" She nodded. "In our bed?" Another nod. "You fucked that slut in our bed?"

I knew I'd gone too far at that point, and the anger flashed momentarily. "She's not a slut, not like that cheap whore you were fucking," she snapped. "It's nothing like what you were doing?"

"Why's that then?" I snapped back.

"Because I love her!" she cried.

It had suddenly all gone a bit EastEnders -- that should have been the last line before the dum-dums started and the credits rolled, but this was real life and there were no dum-dums and credits like there had been no video montages earlier. Instead, we both paused.

"Do you want a divorce?" I asked eventually.

She shook her head.

"Does Graham know?"

This time, there was true panic - Graham was Lorna's husband. "Please don't tell him!" she pleaded. "You don't know what he's like! If he ever found out..."

I never did find out what would happen if he ever found out -- the kids chose that moment to come through the front door, full of joy and laughter, and we pulled ourselves together "for the sake of the children" goddammit. It did, however, sow the seeds of a particularly nasty, but not necessarily ingenious, piece of blackmail.

*********************

Two weeks later and I was ready to go. I'd booked the hotel for two nights (not a budget one either, but a nice one that provided toiletries and fluffy dressing gowns) and picked up the keys on the first evening and dropped off a few purchases before heading back home as usual. Today had been a simple task -- get up, shower, grab a little lunch and head up to the room to make sure everything was ready.

I was still amazed at how readily Lorna had apparently greed to my demands. Maybe her husband, Graham, was abusive, a bully, or maybe she was afraid of losing custody of the kids if he found out, or maybe she thought that this way she could continue to have a relationship with Katy without losing what she already had. I honestly have no idea. I do know that Katy had been harder to persuade: she'd vehemently refused to listen for a good few days, never mind mentioning it as a possibility to Lorna.

You won't be surprised to discover the cunning plan I'd hatched: my silence in exchange for the chance to fuck Lorna. My original request for the two of us alone for a night had been rejected outright, as had my suggestion that we video the entire encounter. We had eventually agreed to a threesome, and afternoon pf debauchery where they would acquiesce to any reasonable request I made. The line where reasonable ended and unreasonable began hadn't been firmly established yet: I took it to be the point where I introduced farmyard animals or someone getting seriously hurt but suspected that Lorna's line might be a French kiss. I'd come prepared for the best though and had a selection of gift bags lined up with an assortment of items: lingerie, toys, lube and (my personal favourite) a strap on dildo which I hoped they'd use to fuck each other senseless.

Having checked that everything was ready I lay back, wrapped in my dressing gown and waited.

Just after 1:00, there were footsteps outside the room and then the electronic key buzzed. Katy came in first, already unwrapping her scarf from around her neck and taking her coat off before dropping them both on the floor. It was clear that she'd mad an effort (short skirt, black tights, low cut top) but I wasn't sure who for -- me or Lorna,

"Need a wee!" she declared and rushed into the toilet.

Behind her, Lorna stepped tentatively into the room. This was the first time we'd met since I'd discovered their affair and it was clear that she was nervous about it. I think they'd arranged Katy's toilet break as a way of giving us a few seconds together to "clear the air", so to speak. Not that the air needed clearing as far as I was concerned -- I was about to fulfil about 27 fantasies in one afternoon.

"Hi Charlie," she said, unbuttoning her coat and sitting on the corner of the bed. "Listen... I'm really sorry.... We never meant it to happen..."

"Lorna, it's fine," I reassured her. "I've always known that you two were close, it was just.... A bit of a shock!"

She smiled ruefully and looked down, avoiding eye-contact.

"And you won't... if we..."

I smiled and sat up, leaning forward, and putting my hand over hers. "I'm not going to tell Graham and I'm not going to stop you and Katy seeing each other if that's what you want." It was the first time I'd touched her hands -- they were cold and a little bony. She looked me in the eye for the first time with a smile that was full of relief and I could see that there were tears welling.

"Thank you..." she smiled.

I squeezed her hand again. It was one of those rare moments that seemed to go far longer than it actually did. I looked into her big brown eyes and, just for a second, forgot that she'd been shagging my wife, forgot about all the nasty things I had planned for the pair of them, and just felt happy that she was my friend and that I'd made het happy. Then the toilet flushed, and the moment was gone. I'd fancied her for years, and now I was going to fuck her.

"Do you want to take your coat off?" I asked and leaned back on my pillows.

The toilet door unlocked and Katy came out just as Lorna was standing up and unbuttoning her coat. I had mixed emotions as she walked over to her new lover and took hold of her hand, kissing her briefly on the lips. "OK?" she asked and got an affectionate smile in return. My brain was telling me to be incredibly jealous of their intimacy, my cock was telling me something else. They dropped each other's hands and tried to act like nothing weird had happened.

"I've got to be back home by 6.00," Lorna announced to no-one in particular. "Graham's mum has got the boys all day, but she's dropping them off then."

Whilst my wife had made an effort, Lorna had not. She was wearing her normal knee length denim skirt with thick black tights and a baggy black top which hinted at a pair of large breasts hidden beneath. Her hair was tied back into a scraggy ponytail and she wore no makeup. As she hung her coat up, Katy sat on the edge of the bed and took her boots off, then crawled up towards me and kissed me on the lips, not a passionate tongue-in the-mouth kiss but a pouty lipped peck. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her towards me, and kissed her more firmly. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that it was Lorna's turn to feel envious. She perched back on the corner of the bed and released her hair from its ponytail running her hands through it to make sure it wasn't tangled, studiously looking anywhere but at us. I still wasn't sure that she'd go through with this. I was convinced that her prudishness would overcome her desire for my wife or the fear of her comfortable secure life not to come tumbling down around her ears.

I think Katy must have sensed it too, because she pulled away from me and sat at the foot of the bed, her right hand sneaking out and resting on Lorna' leg. Lorna smiled at her.

"So what now?" Katy asked.

I reached down beside the bed and retrieved the two gift packs that I had stored there, tied up with bows to make them look like they were from an expensive shop.

"How about you go into the bathroom and get changed into this," I told her, handing one bag over, "While Lorna stays here and gets changed into this." Katy took her bag and, with another quick kiss on her lover's lips stood up and went back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. With a smile, Lorna undid the bow on her gift bag and looked inside.

"You really are a dirty old pervert," she smiled, shaking her head ruefully and removing the skimpy garment inside, holding it up in front of her. "You do know that Katy hates it when you make her dress like this?" I could only shrug nonchalantly; I knew it only too well. Laying the outfit I'd bought her on the bed, She stood up and turned to face me. Grasping the hem of her black top in the way that women do (left hand to right hip, right hand to left), she lifted it over her head and exposed the bra holding the large breasts that I'd been fantasising about for years It was black and lacy and I could just make out her dark pink nipples and aureole. Her strip was perfunctory, with no effort to make it sensual or entertaining, but the sight of her removing her clothing was turning me on. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra, shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor without ceremony. Her breasts dropped. They were everything I'd imagined them to be while I wanked off in the shower -- large and soft with big pink aureoles and hard nipples, When I was a kid, I'd read the sort of porn mag that used euphemisms like "fun bags" to describe boobs -- Lorna's were the very definition of those words. She bent forward to remove her skirt and they hung down beneath her, swinging unhindered.

As she straightened again and made a move to take her tights off, I told her to stop. She put her hands on her hips and waited. I could see the lacy knickers that she was wearing through the lycra stretched over her large bum. I shuffled forward and sat on the edge of the bed, one leg either side of her, and put my hands on her hips before moving them round to caress her arse cheeks, and then took one of her boobs in my mouth. She gave a little gasp as I sucked it gently, then flicked the nipple with my tongue. I squeezed her bum again, and ran my hands down her legs, moving my mouth to her other tit and repeating what I had done to its partner, feeling her nipple harden in my mouth. Her hand came up to my head and pulled it towards her, and at that moment I knew that she was going to keep her word, that she was going to go through with the plan, that I was going to have her.

The bathroom door opened, and Katy emerged. She did not look happy; I'm not sure whether it was because of the lingerie I'd bought for her or the fact that I was sucking on her girlfriend's tits or the fact that Lorna seemed to be enjoying it. Personally, I thought she looked damn sexy. The lingerie was sheer and black -- bra, French knickers, suspender belt and stockings. Everything was on display -- tits, nipples, pubes, everything. I gave Lorna's arse one last squeeze and moved back up to the top of the bed, resting on the pillows.

"Are you going to take her tights off?" I asked as I moved.

Katy moved behind Lorna and placed one hand on each hip, hooking her fingers into the waistband of both her tights and knickers. In one movement, she pulled them both down to Lorna's knees, exposing an untamed thicket of black pubic hair. Those teenage wan-mags had sometimes referred to a woman's "growler" and I could see why looking at her: the hairiness looked just like some small animal was nestling between her legs. She stood back up and ran her hands up the sides of Lorna's body, over her hips and towards her breasts which she cupped gently. Lorna turned around unsteadily, the tights holding her knees together, and I was treated to the sight of her magnificent arse (large, round, firm, smooth with just a hint of cellulite) as she kissed my wife -- not a delicate peck this time but a full-on snog with tongues searching each other out. I opened my dressing gown and took my cock in my hand as I watched my wife's hands continue to roam over Lorna's body, caressing her back and bum and thighs. After half a minute or so, her right hand disappeared from sight and the fact that Lorna's legs spread ever so slightly told me that my wife was now fingering her lover's pussy or rubbing her clit. I guess she was proving a point, staking a claim so to speak -- "You may have sucked her tits, but her pussy's mine."

Lorna sighed and they kissed again. A new fear began to grow at the back of my mind: that I'd end up being a spectator in this threesome, watching a free lesbian show until I came over my own hand. It was a relief, then, when they separated and Lorna sat on the bed to remove her tights and pants completely.

"Let's see what your pervy hubby has got for me," she said, and picked up the skimpy piece of lingerie I had bought for her. Katy crawled onto the bed and lay next to me on my right hand side so that we could both watch as Lorna got dressed; she rested her head on my shoulder and took by erection in her right hand, wanking it gently. Lorna had worked out what I'd bought her and began to put it on -- feet first pulling the sheer nylon up her legs before standing with her back to us, putting her arms through the thin shoulder straps of the bodystocking and pulling it on completely. She stood for s few seconds smoothing out creases and wrinkles before turning and facing us. The material clung to her every curve, squashing her boobs. An opening around her crotch allowed for easy access to her cunt and arsehole, but was filled with her mass of untrimmed pubic hair.

She ran her hands up and down the sides of her body and looked me in the eye. "You like?" she asked seductively.

"Oh yes!" I replied enthusiastically.

Slowly she placed one knee on the end of the bed and began to crawl, cat like, towards me. I spread my legs so that she could crawl between them. When her head was level with my crotch, Katy bent my erection up and pointed it at the ceiling so that Lorna could lick the tip and then take the head into her mouth. As I leaned back further, Katy turned my face towards her and gave me a long passionate kiss.

"Is this what you wanted?" she whispered as her friend - her lover - began to bob her head up and down on my cock, taking more and more into her mouth each time and making the occasional slurping noise.

It certainly was. But a sloppy blow job was not going to buy my silence or my acceptance and assent to their affair.

"There's a blue bag over there on the table," I told her. "Why don't you go and see what's inside?" I kissed her again before she stood and walked over to the table. I watched her sexy arse as it swayed. Lorna stopped sucking and turned to see what was happening but carried on wanking my cock. Katy reached into the bag and removed the first thing in there -- 3-inches of shaped glass.