Helen's Game

His mind is racing, overflowing with thoughts, more questions than answers, lots more.

Hemust know her, but who is she? She obviously wants to get in touch, otherwise why would she give out her hotmail address? He's already checked his contacts although he knew even before he did that the address wasn't one of them.

One thing he does know though, he wants to watch it again, all the way through this time. He looks across at Tab, she's definitely asleep. What would she look like in a balaclava?

As Dan eases back the covers from his naked body he tells himself he's simply going to the bathroom, where he'll masturbate into the toilet and flush away his urges, hopefully enabling himself to sleep.

He is of course lying to himself, and even before he's silently padded from the room he knows it. The bathroom is where he heads first however, his guilty footfalls silent on the thick carpet of the hallway. When he leaves the bathroom shortly afterwards he has a wad of toilet tissue in his hand. The other hand tugs insistently at his long, thin cock.

Before descending the stairs he takes a quick look at his bedroom door, he's nervous, Tab could wake and find him missing, but she's a sound sleeper, the chances are slim.

The stairs and hallway below are almost pitch black, he treads carefully, one hand sliding on the wall for support, trying not to dislodge the pictures that hang along it, feeling for the next step with his feet. He doesn't want to switch on the light. In the hallway he reaches out his hands in front of him, seeking the door to the living room.

He finds the handle and carefully eases it down, pushing gently against the door. It slides open with a whisper against the carpet. He closes it again behind him.

An orange glow from the sodium lamp on the street outside filters though their net curtains. It's just enough to see by. The dark hulk of the television sits waiting in the corner of the room. It sits above the video player, and that sits upon a drawer unit containing all their videos. He crosses the room and kneels before the television, far closer than his mother would ever let him sit as a child, but no one's here to tell him not to.

He places the tissue down in front of himself.

Sliding his fingertips over the front of the television he feels for both the power and volume buttons then simultaneously switches on the power and turns the volume right down. Even before the picture comes into proper clarity the sound is whisper quiet. He'll turn it up a bit later but it needs to be just loud enough and no more.

It must be monster season.

On screen an old black and white horror movie is playing, giant ants are silently terrorizing a small American town. Dan's pale, wiry body and the room beyond are bathed in a grey flickering glow, his eyes shining and wide, reflecting the grey rectangle of the screen.

With deliberate but unnecessary care he pulls the drawer open, it slides easily and quietly on its runners. Rows and rows of tapes are lined up, some pre-recorded films but mostly the tapes are filled with old TV shows, recorded then watched only once or twice before being wiped over with more of the same.

He needs to pull the drawer right open, for the tape he seeks has been hidden right at the back. Using the light from the TV he peers in and sees the tape he's after. It's unmarked, he'll have to mark it up soon with something inconspicuous if he wants to keep in here for much longer. It would be far safer to hide it someplace else though, he'll have to think of somewhere. He glances towards the hallway door, it's closed, just as he left it. His fingers close around the tape.

He received it earlier today in the early morning mail, Tab, thank god, had just left for work. He heard it drop through the letterbox, an unusually loud thump as it hit the floor spiking his curiosity.

It was a brown, padded envelope, his name and address written in Biro. He didn't notice the slight discolouration around the stamps, and would have thought nothing of its origin if he had.

When he saw the tape inside, and the fluttering of the small piece of paper as it fell to the floor his curiosity went into overdrive. He had to watch it there and then, who cares if he was a little late for work.

Ten amazing minutes later, long before the end of the tape, he happened to glance up just as Tab's car pulled back into the driveway. Frantically he'd hidden it and the slip of paper with the hotmail address in the drawer.

Tab had forgotten her purse, nearly giving Dan a heart attack and ensuring that the rest of the incredible tape remained unwatched, its contents only to be guessed at. Tab lightheartedly berated Dan for being late for work, he blamed loosing his keys, and they left the house together this time, leaving the tape to wait till now.

The tape disappears inside the machine, the loading mechanism horrifically loud in the still air of the house. Dan holds his breath as if that will make a difference. The logical side of his brain tells him Tab couldn't possibly have heard, let alone woken up, but as Dan was finding out, at 3 in the morning when you're sneaking around your own home, logic doesn't feature highly in your thought processes.

He rewinds it to the beginning and flicks channels upwards through the late night selection, until he finds the video channel. Momentarily the screen is filled with static which, as he presses play, turns to black, back to static for a second and then the picture flicks into life.

The bed lonely in an empty bedroom, but not for long. His tormentor comes into view, coming out from behind the camera. As soon as he sees her Dan's hand speeds up on his shaft, his knees spread wide apart, his balls almost touching the thick carpet as he sits back, gazing lustfully at the screen.

The balaclava, it's the first thing the eye is drawn to. Black with tiny eye holes and a slightly larger hole for her mouth. It could be anyone under there, only her long dark hair could give any clues to her identity.

He thinks she looks like an office worker, with her navy skirt and white blouse looking like the uniform of a secretary. Then again, he muses she could just as easily be far more senior. He chooses to think of her as a secretary though. Does her boss have any idea of what she gets up to in her spare time?

She sits down on the edge of the bed, facing the camera now, taking up most of the frame. There's a glint in her eyes, shining from within the dark wells created by the balaclava. Her legs are pressed together, prim and proper. She places her hands flat on her thighs. Something about her pose reminds Dan of a nervous interviewee. He knows he'd give her a job, any job.

Seconds pass and she remains still, Dan hears the ticking of the mantlepiece clock, other than that everything is silent.

Almost imperceptibly at first, and with measured calm, one hand moves, sliding over her skirt and up, past her waist, onto the cotton of her blouse. It carries on upwards, meeting the impressive swelling of her breasts, curving up and over.

Just underneath the bottom of the woollen balaclava, at her throat, it rests in a stranglers pose. More seconds pass, it seems there's no hurry. Her fingers and thumb caress her neck before dropping down.

Her fingers alight on the top button of her blouse, it releases with barely any movement from them. It would be wrong to say the next two buttons followed swiftly, but it seemed that way to Dan. Doesn't time fly when you're having guilty fun.

As she releases the remaining buttons Dan's eyes are glued to where the sides of her generous breasts can be seen in the slight parting of her blouse.

"Oh wow." He whispers, despite having seen it once before. Being down in the darkness, doing something he shouldn't, has given everything an added razors edge of excitement, and besides that, the curve of her breasts fully deserve his exclamation.

The blouse is now fully undone but she doesn't remove it straight away. Her hand rises to her chest again, caressing one orb through the cotton of her blouse, a slow circular motion, the softest lovers touch, her blouse creasing and sliding over her skin but never revealing more than the slightest tease of her plump breast.

Her gaze is focussed intently on the camera, her eyes making contact with Dan's and never breaking.

Her hand slides to the other breast, across and under her blouse, hidden from the wrist upwards. Again the hand moves with slowly circular motions, perhaps a little harder now, rubbing and flattening her soft flesh with her palm.

Dan shuffles even closer to the TV and turns the volume up a little, just enough so he'll be able to hear it, but only just. He's close to coming already, his cock dribbling as he strokes it forcefully, pelvis tipped towards the screen. He slows down, forcing himself to prolong it, there's a long way to go yet, he hopes.

His other hand glides over his body, up the insides of his thighs, toying briefly with his balls, sending shivers with fingertips, and then up to his chest, playing in the coarse hair there, tweaking his nipples, just like Tab does.

Both her hands move beneath their cotton shroud now, synchronized, large circular motions. She tilts her head down and he hears it, the faintest of sighs, as she responds to her own touch. Her legs, covered by sheer, dark stockings remain primly together, blocking any attempted view between.

She stands up, for the moment hands still on her chest, and turns around, her rear now facing the camera. Dan can't help but make comparisons to his wife asleep upstairs. Tabitha's sexy with a cute little behind, slim waist and small, perky tits. But this unknown woman makes Tab look boyish. He feels a little guilty with the thought, but can't help himself.

The woman parts her legs just a little, feet maybe a foot apart. Her hands come down from her front, slide into the curve of her waist and out and down to her hips, tracing the same curves that draw Dan's hungry eyes. As her fingers find the curve of her buttocks she bends forward at the waist, pushing her arse back towards the camera. Continuing further down her hands slide over her skirt as she tilts ever forward until her fingers find the hemline, just above the depression of the back of her knees.

Slowly, as if there could be no other way, she pulls up the back of her skirt. Her dark, lacy stocking tops exposed first, pale thigh above.

"You want it don't you." Dan hisses, wanking himself hard at the seductive sight, just knowing she's doing this all for him, offering herself.

More and more creamy thigh comes into view, her skirt rucking up as she gathers it into her fists. Her legs look so toned and firm, he can't help but wonder how it would feel to be squeezed between those powerful limbs.

As she raises the skirt she straightens up until, as it reaches the crease where thigh becomes buttock, she is upright. Still she lifts her skirt, he sees her white knickers, nestled between her cheeks, sees between her legs, to where those knickers cloak hidden delights.

Her arse though, for now that's what he gazes at, his face inches from the screen. Her skirt is held high, unable to rise anymore, the pristine swelling of her pale rump exposed. Dan wants to kiss the screen, to lick it, to fuck it, anything in fact to let him believe he's in there, touching those perfect cheeks. He reaches for them, wet fingertips seeking, and leaves a snail trail of pre-come on the screen, tracing his desire upon her.

Again she bends forward, further this time, the slight crease between buttock and thigh disappearing, the distinction blurring, becoming one long, fabulous curve, from her knees to oblivion. She rests one hand on the bed, her open blouse hanging down, still shielding her breasts from view. Her skirt lies crumpled on her lower back, no need to hold it anymore, freeing her hand to explore, it slides down her belly, into the hanging folds of skirt material and beyond, until Dan sees it between her legs, reaching back, touching white cotton.

Touching and rubbing, back and forth. He hears her silky moan, watches her body react, legs squeezing tight around the slow metronomic motions of her hand before widening further, her arse pushed back, offered openly to the camera, to Dan.

Who is she? Dan feels sure, with the easy confidence that arousal brings, that one day soon he'll find out. She'll announce herself to him, make herself known and offer more than just her image on a screen.

Her fingers stray from view, slipping beneath the white gusset, her hand moving more urgently, her pelvis rotating against it.

"Ahhh," comes her voice. "Ahhhh," and again, hissing like a pressure release valve.

She stands up a little more, her skirt falling back down her toned, pale thighs, hiding her rump and the movement of her hand behind a navy curtain as she returns slowly to an upright position. The slight rocking of her elbow though, gives telltale signs of the activity between her legs. Like a lever, a small motion there translating to a larger motion in the humid gap between those white panties and her damp skin.

This is where Dan had been so rudely interrupted before, from now on everything was thrilling and new.

Head tilting to the ceiling, her moans of pleasure come quietly from the speakers, for his ears only.

Upstairs in the bed for two people now occupied by only one, Tabitha, on the cusp of consciousness, stirs. Roused from deeper slumber by something unknown, Tabitha reaches for her opposite number, seeking his warmth for comfort.

Downstairs, Dan's cock is slick with liquid desire, wet sounds come from down there as a fist works hard along it, the other hand nestles between his legs, toying with his balls.

The balaclava clad woman turns around to face the camera. Bringing her breasts swinging into view, fat and perky with large brown nipples, Dan has to have them, and he's sure he will. She touches them now, one hand caressing each one in turn. He longs for his hands to do what hers is now, cupping and squeezing them, her nipples looking so tempting, so suckable as she toys with them, making them stiff and erect.

Meanwhile the other hand, mostly hidden by her panties, moves slowly and rhythmically between her legs.

Her mouth is open, he can see her tongue flicking out, wetting her bottom lip. He wants to kiss that mouth, those full lips, to push his tongue between them, but, he looks down between her legs, more than anything in the world right now he wants to put his tongue down there.

"Show me your cunt." He murmurs as she brings her hand out from under her panties, the front of her skirt falling down, She trails the hand up her body, eventually finding her mouth. He sees her tongue wrapping around two fingers as she tastes herself, sucking the digits inside.

With her fingers moving between her lips she sits down again on the edge of the bed, legs together again but not, he's sure, for long.

Her hands slide down to her knees, in almost exactly the pose she started with. Dan sees her fingertips playing at the edge of her skirt, easing under the hem.

He wasn't expecting what happened next, but it made him ache with need.

"Will you promise to fuck me hard?" her voice was soft, but with a ragged edge that betrayed her desire. Dan couldn't believe she was speaking to him, he had to release his cock, so close was he to the edge.

Her hands begin to tug at her skirt, slowly drawing it up her thighs.

"You've got my hotmail address, use it, you won't regret it."

"I promise, I promise," he hisses, leaning in close. "I'll do you so fucking hard."

Her skirt is as high as it can go, her legs resolutely together. She seems to lean towards Dan.

"My cunt is for you," she licks her lips. "Whenever you want it, it's yours."

He kisses the screen, saliva on her face, his fingertips touching her knees, as if he could prise them apart.

"I want it now."

Upstairs Tabitha opens her eyes and sees her husband missing. She assumes he's in the toilet and closes them again. For some reason though she's restless and cannot sleep. She waits for his return.

On screen her hands hook into the elastic of her panties and, after lifting herself a little from the bed and keeping her legs together, she tugs them down. Past her knees they fall of their own accord, down to the floor where she lifts her feet from them.

Looking right into Dan's soul as she does so, she runs her hands up and down her lap, fingers sliding into the crease between them, one hand rising up to her belly, fingering her navel and then higher, massaging her breasts. The other pushing down between her tightly closed thighs, forcing them to open just a little to accommodate.

He hears her sigh as she touches herself then hears something else, too quiet to catch properly.

Quickly he rewinds the tape, turning up the volume.

Her hand plunges down again between her legs, she sighs, "Ohhh," and then.

"I'm so wet for you," she whispers, barely audible.

Again he rewinds, again he turns up the volume with slippery fingers.

"Ohhh."

"I'm so wet for you."

She parts her legs, opening like the wings of a butterfly, showing everything except the one thing he craves. Her hand is flat against her pussy, fingers pointing down, motionless, unlike the hand that plays rough with her nipples. As he watches, the middle finger of her pussy hand begins to move. Up and down, up and down.

"Oh Fucking hell." He moans as he watches that finger slowly disappear inside. She closes her eyes, his are wide, staring, fist pumping hard along his cock.

The finger reappears before gliding inside again and again, into the focus of his intense desire.

She opens her eyes, looking into his darkened living room. Slowly, a little breathless she says.

"I bet you'd like to see my cunt."

"Yes." He hisses in reply.

"I'd like you to touch it too."

"Oh please."

Her thighs close and she withdraws her hand, bringing it, and the other, to her knees. Then, with delicious lack of urgency, pulls those knees apart with her hands. Nothing remains to hinder his view and he drinks it in, The darkness of her stockings framing the creaminess of her thighs, in turn framing the wanton pink/red gash of her cunt. The crumpled navy line of her skirt above that, and then those breasts, hanging fertile and plump, framed by the white sides of her open blouse. Above it all the balaclava, hiding her identity but not the glittering lust in her eyes.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asks. "Do you want to touch me?"

He's speechless, on the edge of losing control, he licks the screen, the thin tip of his tongue flicking between her legs by way of reply.

With her hands resting halfway up her thighs, fingertips lightly playing there, she leans forward.

"I'm gonna tell you a secret." She whispers in a conspirators hush.

"When I'm alone at night, I think of you, and I finger myself," a hand moves up her thigh, fingers finishing millimeters from the puffy swelling of a pussy lip. "Like this."

She runs two fingers up the length of her pussy, briefly circling her clit, gasping as she does so. The noise fills Dan's head, such a beautiful sound, he'd give anything to hear it for real.

Those fingers part her outer flesh, play along flushed crimson inner lips, dip inside, coming out shiny and wet.

"I dream it's you, I want you so badly." Her voice needful, her fingers spreading her natural lubricant all over the soft pink lines of her pussy, dipping, no, plunging back into her wet heat, piercing herself.

"Mmhhh."

Wrapped in their thick duvet Tabitha lies awake. Dan's been gone for ages. She can't suppress her curiosity, wondering what he's up to, if he's all right.

Enraptured, Dan watches her hands, wishing they were his own, touching her, making her moan. The video is such sweet torture.