Jennifer's Obsession: Andrew's Home

Anthony waved as he, and a rather upset Dave, headed up the garden. Jennifer closed the door on them and headed straight for the sixteenth Century bureau that sat against the wall to the right of the fireplace. She lifted its partially open cover and removed a cassette from a camcorder that had been sitting within.

"Wait till you see what I've been up to, you bastard!" she said to herself, her pleasure quickly giving way to anger. She made her way over to the sofa and flopped onto it, holding the tape in one hand and her head in the other. Her face wrinkled up whilst a couple of tears escaped from her eyes and ran for it down her cheeks.

A few hours passed. Jennifer had tidied up the living room, cleaned the 'spattering' off the door to the study, returned her outfit to the closet, and had cleaned herself up. Her time in the shower was spent playing out in her mind what was going to happen when she saw Andrew but it kept making her feel sick, so she settled for 'taking it as it comes' - at least this way she didn't feel quite so ill, and her mind didn't seem so fragile. This way she could hold on to how it all was, because as yet nothing has happened. Nothing's definite, she thought, although the intermittent stomach churning that just wouldn't go away no matter what, was suggesting otherwise.

Back in the living room, Jennifer sat upright on the sofa. She was holding the cassette in one hand and tapping her lips with the fingers of the other, staring at the cassette all-the-while.

I think I'll hide it for now, just in case. There might be an explanation. In fact, in all likelihood, there probably is. Where's this tape going to get me then? I'll end up going through all this fucking turmoil again, only it'll be my fault, and I just can't. Jennifer started to tap her lips a little faster. I really just can't, she thought, as she stopped tapping her lips. Jennifer's eyes began to wrinkle up and that horrible, sick, weak feeling started to overcome her again. She jumped to her feet, throwing the cassette down hard at the floor as she did so. She furiously stamped at the cassette until several bits of plastic cracked off to expose the tape it concealed. She snatched what was left of the cassette up from the floor and frantically pulled at the tape, repeatedly. Within seconds Jennifer collapsed onto the sofa. She looked rather flustered and was holding a broken, but empty, plastic box. The tape was strewn all about her like a bird's nest. She felt better for it. It was as if destroying the tape made Andrew innocent and that was why she'd destroyed it, because there wasn't any need for revenge. And to sit there and watch Andrew, watching her, getting fucked by another man was just too much, she'd decided, even if he has been having an affair.

Jennifer jumped to her feet again and quickly gathered up the tape and pieces of broken plastic. She hurried to the outside bin and stuffed it all underneath a bag of waste as best she could. As she returned to the living room, shrugging her shoulders as if a huge and weighty rucksack had just been lifted from her, she glimpsed Andrew's Saab convertible rolling up onto the drive. Jennifer rushed up to the window and looked out; just to make sure it was him. She already knew it was but she just couldn't stop herself. She watched him step out of the car, and then reach back in to grab his travel-bag. She tottered about the living room, not sure as to where to put herself. The churning in her stomach had escalated now, and she could feel her breathing getting shallower and faster. She heard his key in the door. She jammed her hand down the side of the sofa and hurriedly retrieved part of the incriminating evidence – the letter (the Paris tickets were still in his jacket pocket upstairs). The sound of his footsteps coming through the hallway made her heart thump almost as loud. She quickly stuffed the letter down her joggers (she couldn't put it down her knickers because she wasn't wearing any).

"Jennifer," he rumbled, opening his large arms out as he did so whilst at the same time dropping his bag down with a dull thump onto the floor. Jennifer rushed toward the athletic build that stood some six foot three inches and wrapped her arms tightly around his trim waist. As his muscular arms closed firmly but gently around her body as if it were one of a child's, she pressed her face into his broad chest. His scent, even though he wore deodorant and aftershave, was the scent of a man, and it made her feel...safe, secure, loved, wanted, and more...all the things she ever wanted to feel when a man held her close. She found it odd how a scent could change so much just by wearing it. "Are you alright, Jen?" he whispered into her ear and breaking her chain of thought.

"Mmmmm, I am now you're home," she replied, nuzzling deeper into his chest and losing her self in the warmth and security that Andrew's hug offered. The ill feelings she'd been experiencing just seemed to melt away, as if by magic.

"I know exactly what you mean...I've missed you too," he said softly and deeply as he cupped her head in his one hand while the other slid down her body and onto one of her buttocks, squeezing it playfully. Jennifer looked up at him adoringly, finding it impossible to even consider the prospect of his being involved in some sordid betrayal in the form of an affair. And for him to be taking his supposed mistress to Paris of all places; it wouldn't happen, she'd decided.

"Let me pour you a drink while you take the weight off your feet - then we can snuggle up and do whatever you want," Jennifer whispered, winking her left eye.

"Some wine and a good woman sounds like an offer I just can't refuse," he replied as he released her from his clutch. The words penetrated her like a knife-blade. They went deep inside and caused her to momentarily stiffen with the pain. She noticed Andrew notice. "I've had some terrible cramps lately, I think I'll go easy on the training for a few days," she said, thinking on her feet as she headed out to the kitchen. She gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes in anticipation, until she heard Andrew slump onto the sofa that is. She breathed a sigh of relief the second she was in the kitchen and out of ear-shot.

"You'll never believe what that bloody Edward's gone and done," Andrew said as Jennifer returned carrying two generous-sized glasses of white wine.

"Won the lottery," Jennifer suggested enthusiastically as she handed one of the brimming glasses of wine to Andrew and sat next to him, being careful not to spill hers in the process.

Andrew looked her straight in the eye.

"No," he said tersely before continuing, "he talked some girl into bed the last time he was in Paris... and told her he was me."

The cogs started to turn in Jennifer's head whilst Andrew broke eye contact and took a greedy sip of his wine. His head nodded in agreement with the wine. "Oh, that's perfect," he said, before tidying his lips with his fingers. "That's not all either," he continued whilst restoring eye contact with Jennifer who was now starting to experience some sort of a high, and she hadn't even tasted the wine yet. "The bastard booked some tickets to Paris for himself and his new mistress in my name and had them sent here, for fear of his wife finding out... and only decided to tell me about it after he'd done it... I'll murder him one day, I swear," Andrew said, before turning his attention back to his wine; he consumed another healthy 'sip'.

Jennifer was momentarily dumbfounded; how could I have been so stupid? she thought, I feel terrible now for thinking the worst. She didn't feel terrible really; that was just something she'd thought to herself. Deep inside, she was flying, flying so high actually it had started to make her head spin. Andrew turned to her and waited for a reaction. Jennifer quickly regained the power of speech and said "He's a sod that Edward..." as she shook her head in disapproval, trying hard not to give away her sense of relief. She continued "...Anyway, let's not talk about that, I've missed you so much I want to do something very special for you..."

Andrew interrupted with raised eyebrows "very special, you say".

Jennifer sipped her wine before answering. "You name it, we'll do it, no matter what it is," she said, as she snuggled in close to Andrew, putting her free hand over his crotch.

Andrew's eyebrows rose even higher. "No matter what it is," he said, more or less to himself rather than at Jennifer. He took a sip of his wine and then rubbed his clean-shaven, broad chin in contemplation.

Jennifer watched him stifle a smile and felt her hand suddenly start to fill with his swelling genitalia. "What is it?" Jennifer bleated, excitedly. "What is it?" she said again as she took her hand away from his crotch to watch his trousers fill.

"Ah, it's nothing, don't worry about it; I'll think of something," he said, now clearly smiling to himself, but in a rather embarrassed sort of way.

Jennifer like it when he looked like this; it wasn't often she got to see him looking out of his depth and she thought it looked quite cute, it gave him a certain sort of vulnerability which she liked. Jennifer jumped in before Andrew could say anything else. "No, I want to do whatever it is you're thinking," she demanded, looking at his crotch again. She touched it in almost disbelief as to how quickly his cock had risen to full strength.

Andrew turned away from her as if looking out of the window so she couldn't see his face. "I've always, always fantasised about watching you..." (The tape Jennifer had made earlier sprang to mind and she cursed herself for having destroyed it.) "...with another woman," he whispered, before quickly taking a gulp of wine – he'd almost finished the glass already.

A smile started to break on Jennifer's face and quickly became a beaming grin. A simultaneous stirring deep in her nether regions forced her to squirm a little. "Anything for you, my love," she said, quite convincingly – she was as equally, if not more, excited at the prospect of Andrew watching her with another woman as he was. Jennifer climbed up him and kissed the side of his head (she couldn't kiss his face because he was still too embarrassed to look at her). Andrew gulped down the little bit of wine that remained in his glass as Jennifer stroked his full head of mousey-coloured hair, tenderly.

"I'll book an escort for tonight," she said, imagining what the woman might look like. Andrew still couldn't look at her.

"Shall we get a blonde," he whispered, as if he were a child swearing. He dared to sneak a look at her while awaiting the response.

"We can get whatever you want darling; I'm easy, you know..." Bang! Bang! Jennifer was interrupted by a pounding noise coming from the front door. They both looked at each other, wondering who it could be; they weren't expecting anyone. Jennifer glanced at Andrew's erection, put her wine down on the floor, and sprang up, bounding towards the door; she couldn't let Andrew go, not in his 'condition'.

Andrew recognised the voice he could hear resounding off the walls of the hallway and floating into the living-room; it was Cheryl, a friend of Jennifer's. Andrew snatched Jennifer's wine and took several sips before placing it back in its original position and headed off for a shower, loosening his favourite silk tie as he went.

About a half-hour later, all fresh-faced and cloaked in nothing but a white-towelling gown and an aroma of soap, Andrew made his way back down to the kitchen. Stood on the light-oak worktop were two empty bottles of wine and one half–full. He immediately reached into the wall-cupboard for a clean glass. His head nodded to the music he could hear playing in the living-room as he poured the wine; it was Elton John's 'I want love'. His head stopped moving just as his glass filled. He'd heard a woman's giggle, and it wasn't Jennifer's. Fuck, he thought, that fucking Cheryl's still here. He shook his head in disappointment before consoling himself with a sip of alcohol - he had hoped she'd be gone by now so he and Jen could 'get in the mood' for tonight's special treat, but things rarely work out the way you want them to, he thought to himself as he simultaneously decided to retire to his den until she'd gone. He sought alternative satisfaction by taking another sip of wine and savouring its taste before leaving the kitchen. He'd reached the bottom of the stairs when he heard a sharp gasp followed by a strange silence, except for the music playing in the background that is. His curiosity forced him to quietly tip-toe up to the slightly ajar living-room door; he took another sip of wine as he went. He cautiously peered through the gap, smelling the oak of the door as he did so; it seemed to make his wine taste better for some reason, he thought, before turning his attention back to the matter in hand. He could see Jennifer and Cheryl stood in front of the fireplace facing each other, a couple of feet apart.

"Do it to me," Cheryl said, looking a little anxious but clearly excited. Andrew's face was one of puzzlement and he continued to spy. Jennifer slowly reached out her right hand with her forefinger extended as if pointing to something. Andrew's perplexity deepened.

Jennifer's hand came to rest in front of Cheryl's chest, her finger still extended. Cheryl's gaze was firmly fixed on Jennifer's finger and she looked as if she were holding her breath. Andrew watched closely as Jennifer's forefinger went ever closer to Cheryl's body. He could see a shadow forming on Cheryl's chest, in the right breast area – the shadow depicted her hardening nipple. Cheryl exhaled sharply as Jennifer's finger at last made contact; it was the same sort of sound Andrew had heard moments previously. He almost dropped his glass but recovered it just in time, leaving only a few drops of wine to hit the floor. He continued to stare, but in disbelief now as Jennifer's finger circled Cheryl's right nipple.

"I told you, it's different, isn't it?" Jennifer said, moving her finger over to Cheryl's other nipple. Cheryl remained silent, her gaze transfixed upon Jennifer's finger, as was Andrew's.

"There's nothing quite like a woman's touch," Jennifer said quietly, staring deep into Cheryl's eyes.

Cheryl looked at Jennifer and then back at her busy finger. Andrew couldn't believe what he was seeing but it made some magic happen beneath his robe nonetheless. Jennifer suddenly stopped what she was doing, but continued to look deep into Cheryl's eyes. Andrew ached for more, before noticing two almost empty glasses of wine down on the floor, near the sofa - You little fox, Andrew thought, as everything started to fall into place.

Jennifer peeled her tight, black vest-top up from her tiny waist and over her breasts, leaving it come to rest close to her collar-bone. The way her tight top cut into the flesh high on the breasts had the effect of making them seem all-the-more voluptuous. Needless to say, she wasn't wearing a bra.

Cheryl looked at Jennifer, looked at the two swollen globes pointing out at her, and then looked back at Jennifer, as if awaiting instruction like a pupil to a teacher. Andrew sneaked a quick gulp of wine, spilling a little more in the process.

"Now touch them; skin on skin," Jennifer said. "Trust me, you'll love it," she continued, noticing Cheryl's hesitancy. Cheryl reached her hand out, leaving it hanging there in mid-air between them both. Cheryl's mouth had opened slightly with a look on her face that said she was out of her depth. Andrew quickly stole another sip of wine and then tried desperately to send a telepathic message to Cheryl. 'Go on, touch them, go on,' it said.

Jennifer reached out and took Cheryl's hand, gently guiding it to her left breast as if it were some sort of ritual. Andrew couldn't see her left breast, only her right – they were almost standing side-on. He ever so slowly pulled the door open a few more inches, poking his head out dangerously far in the process. Then it suddenly struck him to look in the mirror. He gradually retreated, like a tortoise into his shell, as his eyes met with a full-on view of Jennifer's naked breasts. As Jennifer's left breast disappeared behind Cheryl's right hand, Andrew had to grab a hold of his cock and give it a squeeze, his face scrunching up in the process. For a moment Cheryl's hand just lay there, motionless. Andrew and Jennifer held their breath. Then it happened – Cheryl's hand started to knead the bulbous piece of flesh that she held, stopping occasionally to stroke it with her fingers. It was Andrew's and Jennifer's turn to have their mouths agape now. Cheryl did her double-take routine again, looking at Jennifer's face then back at her breast, then back again. She did this several times before she started to concentrate on Jennifer's nipple, as did her fingers.

"Mmmm... now it's your turn," Jennifer groaned, looking all-the-more devilish with each passing moment. Cheryl slowly withdrew her hand and almost trance-like, began to pull her vest-top up. (Jennifer actually felt a little like the devil, having won over Cheryl's soul.) Cheryl hesitated for a moment as if she was going to leave her top to rest as Jennifer's did, but then decided to pull it right up over her head and cast it down on the floor beside her (it was different to Jennifer's; it was white and a little more loosely fitting). Jennifer smiled softly and her eyes narrowed a little as she took in the view of two heavily built breasts that were vigorously contained within a well-engineered, white bra. Andrew could see one of her breasts but only a bit of the other; it was obscured by Jennifer's body. Jennifer slowly raised her hands to Cheryl's shoulders and slipped her fingers underneath the bra straps that were straining against her flesh. As she lifted her fingers clear of Cheryl's shoulders she could feel the ample weight of the flesh that the attached cups contained, and it was some weight. Cheryl stood there, still as a statue with her arms down at her sides. Jennifer licked her lips and pulled the straps outwards, and then gradually downwards. As the strain vanished from the straps it seemed as if Cheryl's breasts sighed with relief as they slipped into their natural position. The cups of her bra began to peel back, slowly revealing more and more and more of her huge breasts. Jennifer felt like a kid unwrapping a Christmas present and couldn't wait a moment longer. She suddenly snatched her hands downwards, taking the bra-straps with her. Two enormous, rounded masses of flesh jumped out at her, with perfectly formed nipples attached. The bra remained around Cheryl's torso but was sufficiently pulled down so as not to spoil the view.

Cheryl still hadn't moved; she just stood there, waiting to be handled. Jennifer looked longingly at Cheryl's breasts, then longingly at Cheryl. Something moving in the background caught her eye, drawing her attention away from Cheryl. Her eyes refocused on a point over Cheryl's shoulder, and there was Andrew's reflection staring back at her with an excitement in his eye she'd never, in all the time they'd been together, witnessed before. His eyes were wide and his face animated - he looked as if this was one of those life moments you will never forget. Andrew's image quickly blurred out of focus as Jennifer turned back to the behemoth breasts that stood naked and proud before her. Jennifer smiled, but it was in a way that it could only be likened to a wild and hungry animal that had just noticed its unwitting and undeserved quarry come within striking distance. She reached out her hands, forefingers extended, and began circling Cheryl's nipples. The touch of a woman's fingers on her made Cheryl appear as if she'd just been brutally subjected to several orgasms with no rest between them.