K Forbidden Heat Ch. 01

A Day Like Any Other

Chapter 1

Kate came home from her trip to the market with a wheel cart full of foodstuffs for the evening meal for her family. Amongst the mail in the basket behind the mail slot there was one thick envelope, plain brown, addressed to her, except the name was her maiden name. Curious, she dumped the remainder of the mail on the kitchen counter and opened the envelope. The first thing that slid out was a note, typed on a manual typewriter:

KATE, WE 'KNEW' EACH OTHER, INTIMATELY, AT UNIVERSITY, BACK WHEN YOU WERE OPEN AND HONEST ABOUT YOUR TRUE DESIRES. ENCLOSED YOU WILL FIND PHOTOGRAPHS OF YOU I HAVE KEPT AND

CHERISHED THESE MANY YEARS. I HAVE THE NEGATIVES OF ALL THE ENCLOSED PHOTOGRAPHS AND HAVE PRINTS READY TO SEND TO YOUR HUSBAND, YOUR WORK AND YOUR NEIGHBORS IF YOU DON'T DO EXACTLY AS I DEMAND. IN A FORTNIGHT YOUR SONS AND HUSBAND WILL BE GONE ON A SHORT HOLIDAY. ON THE EVENING OF THE DAY THEY LEAVE I WILL SEND TO YOUR HOUSE A YOUNG MAN WHO REQUIRES YOUR SPECIAL TALENTS. HE IS 22, STILL A VIRGIN, AND PAINFULLY SHY. YOU WILL INTRODUCE HIM TO THE JOYS OF PHYSICAL PLEASURE. BY THAT I MEAN YOU WILL SUCK HIS COCK, FUCK HIM HARD TO TAKE HIS VIRGINITY OR BY THE FOLLOWING FORTNIGHT ALL OF YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS WILL KNOW FIRST HAND JUST HOW MUCH OF A SLUT YOU ARE. HIS NAME IS GRAHAM. HE HAS BEEN TOLD YOU ARE A PRIVATE SEX THERAPIST. YOU ARE TO BE MORE THAN THAT, YOU ARE TO BE FOR HIM THE HOT DEPRAVED SLUT THAT I WELL KNOW YOU TO BE.

Kate slid the photographs out of the envelope. Her knees turned weak. The black and white photographs were grainy, partially blurred, ill exposed, but were undoubtedly of her. They were from her university days, when she had been exploring sexuality. She had thought that part of her history was gone and buried, thought that no one she knew had any idea.

There was now a danger everyone would know.

The first few photographs were of her in a corset and slip. The next two were of her naked. The next one was of her naked and on her knees with an erect cock in her mouth. The next half-dozen were of her with one cock in her mouth and another driving into her from behind, with yet another in each hand. The last two simply had her naked, exhausted immediately after she'd climaxed, her body covered with hot dripping white seed from many cocks, her face still open, her mouth agape and intense with ecstasy.

The memories flooded into her, taking her breath.

The feelings that now ran through her now were powerful, confused. She knew there was danger, great danger, but at the same time she remembered what it had been like to be taken over by lust, to be known as and being called a hot slut by every man whose cocks she had sucked, fucked and pumped, all to completion and she had welcomed every word, every caress, every fountaining spurt onto her. She had welcomed them into her mouth, into her pussy, and had gripped and pumped with hot abandon, her heart beating, blood coursing through her as it never had before and hadn't since. She loved her husband, loved her sons, but this...this was something she'd never shared with anyone. She thought she'd left that life behind.

She was wrong.

On the appointed day Kate helped her husband and grown sons pack. She pleaded she had a lot of sewing to do and retired to her sewing room before they loaded the car, not wanting to look into their eyes as they left. From her tiny sanctuary she heard the front door slam, heard the engine start and watched the car pull out into the street and drive away from the upstairs window.

She retrieved the photographs from their hiding place and sat down at her desk. It had been so long since she'd allowed herself to think in sexual terms. She had once been driven by it, driven by the need to feel hands on her skin, feel hot skin under her hands and the deep need to be penetrated. She hadn't paid attention to anything else but sensual pursuits, didn't recall anyone taking photographs, but in her alpha state of ecstasy she would not have noticed anyway. Who could have possibly taken those photos that she knew? Who? A person who knew where she lived, knew her schedule, knew her sons?

That hardly mattered now.

Kate went to her bedroom, searched through her closet for something appropriate to wear. What would a sex therapist wear anyway? Something simple and easily taken off. She found in the back of her closet a simple dark blue cotton wrap-around dress that she had never worn. She had purchased it years ago to wear on holiday, but that holiday had never materialized and, like her sexual past, had been put out of her mind. This could be quite a holiday, couldn't it? She was quickly ashamed of the thought. Was the cryptic blackmail message right? God. The blackmailer's right. I am a slut. She slid the dress from its hanger and laid it on the bed. Kate had read once that each person had three lives: a public life, a private life and a secret life. She took off her clothes, deliberately, piece by piece and laid them on the bed as well, as if taking off her usual public and private life and stood naked before the wrap-around dress laying on the bed before her. It beckoned her to dive into her secret life. Her legs and belly quivered with fear. Or was it fear, really? She lifted the garment from the bed and slid it on, wrapped the thin material carefully around her breasts and tied the waist. Then she looked in the mirror. She almost didn't recognize the woman she saw. Dark hair softly framing her face with one curling tendril hanging over one eye, her body strongly curved, draped by the thin cotton. The woman in the mirror breathed deeply, moved her hips, shifting her weight like a tigress hot to breed. But the thing that held Kate was her own eyes. Never had she seen such pure desire in anyone. She faced the mirror, faced herself. Never had her skin felt simple cotton more acutely, it felt as if her nerve endings were electrified. She felt every bit of her nakedness underneath as she retrieved sheets from the cupboard to cover the sofa. She remembered her past and just how wet she'd been. Her copious flow blended with the essences of her companions had stained her mattress beyond cleaning.

Kate began to wonder what this Graham looked like, what his needs were that he was 22 years old and still a virgin. Unbidden, her mind wondered what his cock was like. That's when moisture began to flow, deeply and quietly, in her center. She had never really felt that with her husband. She loved him, she had enjoyed making love with him, but it had never been inspired hot fucking, had never been the kind of fucking that was burned into the heart and mind, the kind that simple memory made her thighs quiver even now. Then she discovered, though she was still petrified with fear, she was truly looking forward to this. Kate was looking forward to young hot cock in her hands, hot cock in her mouth, hot young cock driving into her center.

God help me, I'm glad.

As he walked to the address his mum had given him from the train station, Graham was, quite frankly, terrified. His mother had recommended this special therapist to him to help him with his quietness, his insecurities with girls. How had she put it? How had the conversation gone?

'She'll help you with your way with women, Honey.'

'I'm fine, Mom, really.'

'No you're not. I know you're not gay, I know you like girls. You just don't talk to them, no matter how much they like you. I know you're attracted by them, yes? I know you are, I've seen how you react, especially to that dark haired girl on the track team. I've seen your trousers tent up. It's all right, it's completely natural.'

'Aw, Mum ... could you not talk about ... Yeah, sure, but...'

'But nothing. This therapist will help you in how you think about women, Graham. You must learn a new way to think before you can master a new way to be. You want it to be different, don't you?'

The word almost stuck in his throat. 'Yes.'

'Then trust me, let this woman help you. Give her a real effort, a real try. You do anything she wants you to do. And I mean anything.'

Anything she wants you to do. Right.

He was expecting some earth-mother 'get in tune with the mysteries of the earth' dressed in baggy medieval clothes that wanted him to 'chant his way to positive energy' to overcome his insecurities. Yeah, he was insecure, but not in a general way the way his mum imagined. His insecurities were not general, far from it. His reluctance to engage with girls stemmed from one particular experience when he was a young teen. The family had been on holiday to the seaside and when he had been walking on the beach one night a very adventurous young American girl had played with him, teased him and when she'd finally gotten his trousers open had gasped with shock and zipped his trousers closed again. She'd looked at him, laughed, and said 'Not me, Bud. Not with that tree trunk of yours', laughed again and had run away, leaving him lying in the sand, trembling with desire and shame. Now Graham didn't know what to do. He couldn't discuss that with his mother, free-spirited as she was. His mother's free spiritedness was what had made his dad leave. 'Ever since you came back from Uni, you've been different' his father had said. But even his mum's open-mind and free spirit could not help with this.

What the hell. Maybe this woman can.

Graham found the address, a nice little cottage home tucked away on a very private back street. He walked up to the door, tucked the address into his pocket and took a deep breath before reaching out to ring the bell.

It was a good thing he had taken a deep breath before he knocked, because when the door opened he could not for the life of him have taken a single breath after.

Holy mother of god, she's beautiful.

Holy mother of god, he's beautiful.

Kate opened the door wide and gazed at the young man Graham. He was taller than she, broad in the shoulders, slender hips and his eyes ... what was the word she wanted ... haunted.

"Are you Graham?"

His eyes were wide, like a creature of the forest frozen in fear, but they were deep blue luminous, with long, almost feminine lashes. There was no doubt about his strength, though. Slim, supple muscles showed in his forearms.

"Graham? Are you Graham? Hello?"

He started, as if out of a trance and nodded, then looked at his feet.

"Come in, then." Kate stepped back, opened the door wide and motioned him into the living room.

The slim young man dug his hands into his pockets. "Do you live here? Do you work out of your home?"

What to say? "Not usually, but I understand your situation is just ... private. And here we won't be disturbed at all." Any more than I already am. What does a sex therapist say, anyway? How do they ... begin? "Why don't you sit down and relax as much as you can. Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Coffee? Wine?"

"Wine? Umm ... sure. I'll have a glass, if that's all right. Red? I'm afraid I don't know much about wine."

"Truth be told, nor do I, it's not my area of expertise." What is my 'area of expertise'? Sucking cock? Riding your young body until you cum like a freshet? Kate took a deep breath and got the bottle and two glasses.

He sat on the couch, hands on his knees, fingers tapping.

She sat on a chair across from him and poured the wine. "Tell me a little about yourself, Graham. Any sports? Reading? What do you like to do?" Do you like hot sluts licking the head of your cock, sucking your balls into your mouth? Get a hold of yourself, slut. She tried to smile professionally as she sipped her wine.

He gulped his, half the glass with one mouthful. "I like to read, but more than that, I like to run and sail."

"Both of those can be pretty solitary activities, yes?"

He nodded and gulped the rest of his wine.

Kate purposefully slowed her motions, both to control herself and to avoid startling him. She filled both their glasses again. As she did she noticed that his eyes were on her body, watching her every motion, though it looked like he was trying to look without her noticing. "I like to run, Graham. It gives me time to think, to imagine the things that I want to accomplish, and to get away from the ordinary. Do you know what I mean?"

He drank again, this time only a sip and this time he looked into her eyes. "Yeah. And I get that when I sail. There's no one out there, whether I'm pounding the ground or out with the wind, to tell me what to do, to tell me I'm too shy, or to ..."

A long moment passed. He took another long drink.

She waited.

He finished his glass and this time he reached for the bottle himself. "After all, that's why I'm here, isn't it? That's why my mum called you. What did she tell you about me, anyway?" He tilted back the glass and gulped it down.

She? The blackmailer is a she? Kate marshalled her thoughts and looked directly at him. "She only told me you were painfully shy and you needed help with women. That's all." She leaned forward towards him. "Graham, what you say and do here will remain between us and only between us. There is a confidentiality so strong it can't be broken. I cannot and will not speak of it to anyone, not even your mum. Do you understand?"

"Not even mum?"

She shook her head. "Not even her."

He poured another glass and leaned back, seemingly relaxing for the first time. "You don't know how I've wanted to tell someone, but was so afraid."

Now Kate was genuinely curious about Graham. He seemed like a nice young man, intelligent, well spoken, but unable to be close to women. "What happened to you?" She played with the collar of her dress, seemingly in thought. His eyes followed every movement.

"I have...problems...talking to girls. It's because ... I'm afraid they'll laugh when we get together, if we get together, I mean."

"By get together you mean, sex?"

Graham took another deep drink and nodded. "Yes. I know it sounds arrogant, but it's really not. I had a girl laugh at me and run away from me. She literally ran from me laughing. I don't think I could face that again."

"I can't imagine a girl in her right mind laughing at you, Graham. You're a very attractive young man." God yes, you are. You're a fucking Adonis and I'm a fucking slut that wants to take you in every way known to man or woman. Mother of god, I'm shameless. She felt her heart beat faster, felt the muscles in her legs tighten. She saw his eye drawn to her body with the slight motion. She saw him move, probably unconsciously, very much the same way. God help me, I just want to see his young cock. "Tell me what happened, Graham. Take your time."

He poured yet another glass and drank it down. His eyes blinked and passed over her body, now not shy at all, but steady and strong. "She was just a girl. Not like you, not ... so womanly, so ... so we were on the beach walking ... she suggested we go behind a huge dune ... we did."

"What did you do there?" Kate had to struggle to keep her voice steady.

"At first we kissed. Then we...our hands were all over each other...it was so exciting, god I can't tell you I felt, it was so nice...then she...opened..." He stalled, as if suddenly realizing that he was sharing with a stranger.

"She opened your trousers, didn't she, Graham."

He didn't say anything. His lips were pressed tightly together.

"She opened your trousers and she pulled out your cock, didn't she, Graham?"

He looked up at Kate, pain in his eyes. Nodded. "And that's when she laughed. Laughed and ran off. I've never felt so..."

Kate rose to her feet and went about the room, turning off all the lights. She came back to the sofa and knelt before him. "I don't know if your mum told you, Graham, but I'm a rather special therapist." She took his hands. "And right now, I need you to trust me. I need you to trust me like you've never trusted anyone else. Can you do that, Graham? Can you do that for me?"

He nodded, his eyes fixed on hers.

Kate slid her hands up his thighs and let them rest there for a moment. She felt the muscles in his legs contract. He had been telling the truth. He was a runner, the same as she was, long in limb and strong as whipcord. He breathed deeply. She pushed his thighs apart and slid between his legs. Then she rested one hand on the side of his face, leaned her upper body forward on top of his and kissed him.

It had been since university since she'd kissed anyone but her husband. It felt wrong but oh so good, because Graham's lips were soft as they could be. She could feel her thighs quiver. She drew back and whispered. "My special therapy, Graham...is to teach you how to love."

He gasped.

She kissed him again, this time finding his open mouth with her tongue, searching for his. She found it and caressed it with her own. His hips began to grind, and she could feel his hardness beneath her. She drew back and placed a finger on his lips. "Don't say anything. Don't move. Don't hurry. We have all the time in the world." As she kissed him again her hands felt for his belt buckle. She flung it open, unfastened the button of his trousers and lowered his zipper.

Dear gentle god, the blackmailer is right. I'm shameless. My pussy is tingling at just the thought of Graham's cock in my hands. I'm a slut. I am a shameless slut.

As she drew his trousers open she saw that he wore nothing underneath. Kate looked up at Graham. "You're not wearing shorts, Graham. Why is that?" She could not keep her voice from quaking just a little, husky, thick with desire.

His eyes were wide with lust and terror. "You'll see. It's so uncomfortable to wear underwear, just don't laugh. Please don't laugh. It would kill me if you laughed."

She drew his trousers all the way open and finally saw what had scared the young girl away. Graham's cock was as thick as her wrist. She reached in and drew his meat out of his trousers. Her heart thumped so hard she thought it was going to rupture.

This is forbidden, this is wrong, this is so...oh my god it feels sooo good to feel like this again.

Kate looked up at Graham, right into his eyes. She squeezed his immense cock with both hands and smiled at him. "Graham. She was a stupid little girl. Your cock..." she bent and kissed the head, then opened her mouth as wide as possible and lowered her lips around the head of his cock. It was the thickest she'd ever had in her mouth. She slowly drew her lips off and tasted the slick clear precum with her tongue as she looked into his eyes and smiled at him again, "is beautiful."

Graham moaned, loudly and gasped like he was going to climax at just her words.

She let go his cock. "Not yet, young man."

He breathed deeply, quickly, panting like a runner. "No? I don't get to finish? Oh god, please, you'll break me."

"You'll get to finish, never fear, and never worry about that. Many times, I think. But not yet. Trust me Graham. Trust me."

She stood up, untied her wrap around dress and held it open for his gaze.

As she looked at him the expression on his face that took him over was one of pure desire, an animalistic, primitive lust she had never seen before, not even at university where the cocks were eager and plentiful for her use. Here was something more, a purity, an immense wordless drive to fuck and be fucked. Her thighs began to quiver at the naked sight of a kindred slut soul. Her belly filled with liquid fire.

"Take off your clothes, Graham. I love the way you look."

He stood, stripped his shirt off over his head, stepped out of his shoes and thrust his trousers to the floor. He stood like a statue of an ancient satyr, all muscle and huge cock straining straight out.