Living Together

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So, for the second time in a few days I went home to my lover having just had sex with someone else.

That was hard for me, but then, I rationalised, if I was to live like a slut, which to an extent I was becoming, that was par for the course. That said, the sex with DD was wonderful and was so different to anything else I had ever experienced. But then I had never made love to anyone who I thought I loved.

Another problem started to rear its head. I had never had a particularly strong sex drive. I wasn't like other girls at college who needed a lot. I didn't have the need to cum most days as they said they did, in fact I wasn't aware of having the need to even cum once a week. I didn't really need to have a regular shag and I could go ages without feeling the urge to wank myself.

Suddenly, though, I was in the position where DD wanted it all the time and I had my modelling clients to cope with as well. If I found daily sex with him hard to handle, I found more than that with the clients added in, almost impossible. I was starting to have to feign my orgasms.

It worried me a great deal. We were only a week into living together, something we had both fantasised about, but had thought would never happen, when I was already wrought with problems. The main being my glamour modelling, the extras I provided and the whole thing of having such a part of my life hidden from the man I was now spending my life with. I couldn't see how it could go on, but I couldn't stop it, I needed the money. Sooner or later he would wonder where I went to on my afternoon and evening appointments, there were only so many excuses. And sooner or later I would come home, as I had after Sandra, with marks on my body. What the hell can a girl say to her lover about a big red suck mark on her tit that wasn't there when he had shagged her that morning?

There had to be a way.

The other side of the coin though was the truly memorable sex I had with David.

A typical evening would be whoever was home first would prepare dinner, always candlelit. If it was me, I would dress provocatively; if it was him he would wear a dressing gown, a long, deep crimson silk one. We would eat dinner chatting about our respective days and then we would make love, sometimes in the bedroom, but often elsewhere: on the settee in the lounge, on the floor, him sitting on a kitchen chair me straddling him or me bent over a table. We would then bathe and shower together and either, settle down for in evening in front of the TV with both of us in our dressing gowns or, we'd pop out for a drink. We had no real social life, for we had no joint friends and none of his knew about me. Back home we would then go to bed and have sex again. I found the true pleasure of really sleeping with a man all night and not having to get up and go home in the early hours.

During the three years of our affair we had not seen each other that frequently. Sometimes two or three times a week, when the bitch was away, but then maybe once in three weeks when she was home. Although the sex had always been good and I had never had to feign anything, we had never really got used to each other. Each time we were alone it was as if we were starting again. Although that was quite exciting, we didn't achieve that easy smoothness that longer term lovers I assumed enjoyed. After less than a week living together that all changed and at last I realised the real relationship between sex and love. What that meant was that, not only were we much more relaxed with each other, but also we were able to more easily experiment and try new things.

In that first week DD 'Sandra'd' me for the first time, in that he licked my bum hole until he made me cum. The next night I returned the favour. I had never licked anyone's bum before and it was far from being distasteful. The grunting, groaning, moaning and sighing and the jerking and shaking of his body that my tongue licking around that crinkled flesh brought from him was a massive great turn on for me. Knowing that simply licking his arse could do that made me feel fucking great.

"I'm near, I'm cumming," he groaned starting to move away.

I was sucking him, fellating him as the sex manuals call it, what a great word, fellatio is. I was lying on our bed naked, propped up by a pile of pillows. He was kneeling across me, his legs alongside my tits. I was holding his cock and cradling his balls with my hands. I had licked his length, tongued all round the head and had taken it deep into my mouth; I can't deep throat so I hadn't tried, gagging, coughing and retching doesn't go down to well when having oral sex. I had slid it in and almost out of my mouth very slowly and then repeated that quickly. I had rubbed his cock all over my face and tits and I had kissed all over that his balls, stomach and his thighs. I was working hard and getting my just rewards from his reactions.

"Oh yes, that's fantastic, that's fucking great," he had sighed as his hands ruffled and pulled my blonde hair.

I held his beautifully hard dick as I moved my mouth lower. I licked all round his scrotum and then sucked one ball at a time into my mouth and then, going the whole hog, I got both in their.

"Oh my fucking Lord," he groaned.

"Doesn't the bitch do this for you?" I asked sliding a finger between his legs and into the crease of his bum.

I took him back in my mouth and starting sucking, harder this time. He started to move, he started sliding in and out, he started thrusting as he found my rhythm. We had been this far numerous times and always when he said those words above he would withdraw and shoot onto my tummy or tits, or both or maybe ram his cock up me and cum there.

This time, though, I grabbed his hips with both hands and held him there. Held him there with his cock buried deep in my mouth. The message was clear, the invitation was obvious.

His hands immediately grabbed my head and held it still. His hips started to pump and thrust more purposefully as he most obviously started to fuck my face. That became a surrogate stomach, my mouth a surrogate cunt, in fact my entire body became just that, a temporary cunt.

He was babbling almost like a child as his pace and pressure built up. I was stroking, caressing and rubbing his cock and balls, his thighs and stomach and, of course all over his arse. For the first time, I realised the power of oral sex and the pleasure and satisfaction the giver can gain, I was getting myself off on mouth fucking my lover. It was Magic.

I could feel the tension increasing in his cock.

"Are you sure Sam?" He gasped pushing in deep and holding himself there rigid.

I, of course, couldn't reply, but instead simply nodded. He gave two more thrusts as I held my face still, my lips wrapped round him, with probably half his cock in my mouth. I could feel him straining against my lips and tongue and my fingers, which were holding his balls felt them sort of wobble or convulse as they seemed to lift up in his scrotum, presumably as they started to dispense their offering.

Then, accompanied by a deep, animalistic grunt and him pulling my head forward making firmer contact with his cock, he exploded. For the first time I had a man cum in my mouth and I was so pleased that it was DD. His spunk seemed to fill the back of my throat very quickly, but the ejaculations don't take long for men do they? I held his cock as I removed it from my mouth. A little string of his cum was sticking to my lips and the tip of his cock, whilst the rest was still in my mouth. I put my tongue out and licked that into my mouth as I looked up as he looked down. Our eyes met. We both smiled. I tipped my head back and with an exaggerated gesture I swallowed my lover's cum, something I had never done for any man.

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Although the sex was fabulous and being with the man I thought I loved was great, it wasn't all sweetness and light. I was surprised at how messy he was, he left his clothes on the floor and rarely hung anything up. He couldn't or wouldn't iron and had no idea with the washing machine, he had always had 'ladies that do' do that for him. His cooking was ok, but he was a hopeless shopper. I could, though, I thought, handle those things in the future. I was starting to think longer term. That created another series of problems for it brought into play our ages and the twenty plus years age gap.

He would talk about things as if I should know about them.

"I was only three when the fucking wall came down," I snapped at him one Sunday afternoon when there was something on Sky news about the Berlin Wall. I talked about bands he'd never heard of and he mentioned groups that seemed like history to me and were made up of old men. Films would be on tele that he would say were great and I'd find out they had been made when I was a baby.

Going out wasn't much better. People stared and we were both conscious that he could easily be taken as my dad. We had no friends and the prospect of making any seemed bleak. So, in essence it was just DD, me and sex. That was our relationship.

It got worse.

He kept getting phone calls from his two kids and, I suspected, from the bitch as well. He talked about his children and said we would have to meet. 'Bollocks' I thought 'I don't want to be a stepmother to a guy just a year younger than me!'

Despite all this, the sex was still fabulous. We fucked a lot in every conceivable position and all over the flat. I got more adventurous in every way.

It was a Tuesday, I remember it vividly. I'd had a session with a new client.

"Ok for extras Sam?" He had asked as I sat on the bed in the studio dressed in the classic glamour model gear of all black, stockings, sussie belt, bra and thong. I'd been simulating masturbation for him so as he said that I still had my hand in my panties stroking my wet lips and throbbing clit.

"What do you want?" I reluctantly asked, the lure of the money overcoming my desire to 'be faithful' to DD.

He undid his zip and slid his hand between my legs.

"Let me play with you while you give me a hand job, unless of course the menu has changed."

"No it's still the same," I said helping him remove his jeans.

"So I don't get to fuck you then," he said rubbing my clit as I slid his big, hard cock out of his boxers; he was fully erect.

"No," I responded sharply getting a surge of pleasure from his pressure on my clit. He pulled my panties down. I closed my eyes and lay back letting him finger me as I, almost 'thought of England.'

He was fiddling with my tits pulling them out of my bra and pinching my nipples with his other hand.

"Let me cum on them," he said as I saw he was wacking himself off. That looked good, I love watching a guy do that. I raised up and undid my bra.

He was standing beside the bed, I was lying on the edge. He was wanking furiously, his eyes almost closed, his mouth slightly open. He looked good. I forgot everything else, DD, the money, my partial resolve to stop extras. The slut that I am was concerned with one simple thing; getting as much sexual pleasure as I could.

"Oh Sam," he groaned, obviously getting quite near.

I pressed my boobs together and, as he bent forward a bit I raised myself from the bed. His first stream missed my tits. Instead it splattered across my face leaving dribbles on my eyes and lips. His second landed right in the deep cleavage I was creating by pushing them together. He pushed the end of his cock against my tits and in his sperm and rubbed it all over my boobs.

"Just a couple more shots Sam," he said focusing his camera on my cum covered tits and face.

After that I went home, showered thoroughly and started to think about the evening. I was to cook dinner so I popped out and bought some pasta, salad, crispy bread and two bottles of a good Chianti.

Back home I undressed and slipped into a shorty, silk, tied at the waist, peach coloured robe; it barely covered my bum and I knew by experimenting in front of a mirror that if I bent forward just a few degrees my cheeks were exposed. I didn't bother with anything under it and I knew DD would like that. I guess I was sort of compensating for earlier in the day when the client had cum on my tits; sort of in a weird way trying to make it up to DD.

I sipped a glass of wine and smoked s cigarette, something I rarely do with DD around. I leant out the wind to blow the smoke away. For some reason I felt hellishly nervous. The fact that I also felt terribly guilty and was full of remorse hardly helped.

I was in the lounge sitting on the big sofa where DD and I had made love many times now, both lying on it and me bent over the arm, my bum in the air as he fucked me from behind.

I heard the door open. I didn't get up but called out.

"I'm in the lounge darling" and smiling added as an afterthought "Come and get it."

I couldn't understand what was happening at first for the half closed door of the lounge suddenly burst open and a woman's voice was screaming.

"Darling, I'll give you fucking darling and come and get it!" I quickly recovered and realised it was the bitch, DD's wife.

'How the fuck did she get in here?' I thought, as she stormed into the room. It hadn't occurred to me that she might not be alone, but then he came in as well.

I stood up, the front of the robe gaping so that most of my tits were on view.

"Look at you, you fucking slut," she screamed.

I looked at David, he looked away.

"What's happening?" I said to him. "David?" I implored. He didn't say anything.

"I'll tell you what's happening you fucking little whore," she went on.

I regained a little composure.

"What do you want? What's she doing here David?"

"She's got something to show you," he replied.

"What?"

"This," the bitch said throwing a folder onto the sofa.

It seemed as if everything was in slow motion: the folder flying through the air, it landing on the sofa and opening, all three of us looking at it as some papers slid from it. They weren't papers I quickly realised, they were photos, photos of me, photos of me almost naked, photos of me I saw with cum all over my tits and face. Yes photos of me taken just that afternoon.

I have never heard from or seen DD since that evening.