Instagram Tales - Isabel Stadler

"So why John? Why did you pursue me? You knew I was married. You knew that I didn't want anything to do with you. You blackmailed me into having sex with you. And now my husband has left me and you have ruined my life. Don't I at least deserve to know the truth?"

John sat up, removing his hands from her breasts. "The truth ... you want the truth do you. Well here it is then. Every time I am sent to a new store I select a few women who I think might be fun to fuck. I'm very particular because I only pick married women of a certain age and type. And do you want a bit more truth? You were actually my third choice Izzy. Yes that's right, you were third on my list.

"And if you want me to be brutally honest, the first time I clapped eyes on you I almost crossed you off my list. I didn't think you were particularly good looking. It wasn't until I saw your body the night we went bowling that I actually became interested in you. You showed that when you made the effort with your clothes and makeup you could actually look quite sensuous. And that made you hot.

"And then I found your Instagram account. My god, those pictures just blew my mind. I couldn't get enough of them. I even downloaded them Izzy, they were that sexy!"

"My God ... you're a pervert!" Isabel snapped angrily.

"I'm a pervert? I don't think so! The pervert was your husband, Izzy. The pictures he took, the way he made you pose, making them all about sex by provocatively displaying your arse and your massive tits; he knew that men would drool and fap off over them. He had to know that, and maybe he got a rise from it. Maybe deep down inside he was a cuckold waiting to be released."

"He did not! He was an artist. They were for his art. I was his muse!" Isabel exclaimed angrily.

John laughed. "Yeah right, Izzy. You keep deluding yourself. Hubby was a cuck and you were his bait! You do realise that Instagram is the modern day replacement for Playboy don't you? Years ago those pictures of you would have graced their magazine. But now we have the internet. Far better coverage for a deviant like your husband."

"Oh, you're disgusting," she snapped back bitterly. "So you're saying that if it wasn't for my Instagram pictures you wouldn't have pursued me?"

"Probably. Possibly. I don't know. I did like your body when I saw it for the first time. But it's a moot point, because you DID post them and I DID find them. And I'm glad you did, because visually your pictures were sensuous and erotic and sexy. Plus, they gave me an insight into your desires. And I have to say that fucking you has been an absolutely outstanding experience."

"You're a pig," she said, her body twitching once more as John cupped her breasts. He squeezed gently, eliciting a quiet moan from Isabel.

He lay her down, her legs parting as he lowered himself between them. His cock entered her easily although she still grunted from the initial thrust.

It was afterwards and she couldn't help but ask.

"So what now John. What happens next?"

"Up to you Isabel. We can continue to get together or not. I'm easy either way. I got what I wanted. Don't get me wrong, I would still like to fuck you but I think I've made it clear that's all this will ever be."

"So, enemies with benefits then," Isabel said with a faint smile.

"Yeah, you can call it that if you like," he replied.

*

*

As the taxi took her home, it gave Isabel time to reflect on her life. So where was she right now and what did the future hold? These were the questions that needed answering and as usual there were pros and cons.

She still had her job, for which she was grateful. And despite everything John had put her through, she still derived much pleasure from it.

She had her home and as long as she had a paying guest she could survive the costs of living there.

And she also had someone with whom she could get her sexual needs fulfilled.

But ___

Her marriage was seemingly over. Dominic had made no attempt to reconcile. Hell, he'd not even bothered to contact her. But as the days had passed by she began to realise that she didn't actually care that much anymore.

She fretted about that at first, embarrassed by thinking that way about the supposed love of her life. But not now. It was over. The love she'd felt had been extinguished. So was that actually a con?

So all that was missing was love. And a family.

She sighed. Well three out of six wasn't that bad. And if she counted her failed marriage as a pro, then it was four out of six.

Well maybe things weren't that bad after all.

And for the time being, she could live with that.