New Year Serenade Pt. 04

New Year Serenade Pt. 04 of 4

New in town, IT consultant Jim has swiftly succumbed to the adulterous advances of the sexy and predatory Janine, whose beautiful singing voice belies her obnoxious nature. Meanwhile, his well spoken wife Jill has been decoyed elsewhere, unaware of how she has assisted in this seduction. Janine has had to use all her powers of persuasion before Jim would allow himself to enjoy her erotic parody of the game he and Jill used to play in bed. She's not done with it though...

**********

"How are you feeling?" she said.

"Very good. Would you like to come and sit on my knee? So I can see you?"

"Good eh? Mmm... you've changed your tune."

She swung herself forward and stood up smartly from the bed, hips swivelling so that her flesh quivered slightly as she took a step backward and to the side in order to turn.

"I don't know what you mean," I said.

She sat down on my lap like a tavern floozy, with the fullness of her spilling onto me, an arm round my shoulder and mischief playing about her lips.

"All that wai-ling about we must respect your wife," she said in a voice like treacle. "You may put her on a pedestal—I don't."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, you great big fucking liar," she said with a short punch to my solar plexus.

"No. Really," I said gripping her fist pre-emptively.

"Aye right. So you didnay throw a hissy fit when I started playing the noughts and crosses then?"

"No. I really don't remember that at all. Mind you, thinking about it, it was quite an evil ploy."

"How d'ya make that one out?"

"Using her game like that, to trick me into comparing you side by side."

"That's your way of telling me I'm better in bed, is it?"

"No. It's my way of telling you you're an evil bitch," I said, my hand playing on her back like waves spreading up the beach in a sheltered bay.

"Better warn your wife then—tell her I'm no 'harmless'" Her mouth was hovering near mine, the green leopard eyes staring.

"I think it was you who pointed out that we won't be telling her anything."

"We won't, will we?" she sniggered, her beautiful arse squirming against me and rubbing my cock as it rolled over it. "'Cos we know where the bodies are buried, eh, don't we? It would be quite a shock for her if we did tell, and you let her know you liked it more with me than with her." She moved in and planted a short, entitled kiss on my lips.

"God, you are a real bitch."

I was only just realising how attracted I was to her. My hand went down onto her knee, and then glided smoothly over her stocking clad legs, moving back and forth, back and forth, but inching ever upwards as it turned towards the inner flesh of the thighs.

"Right... So you did like it more with me?"

She stopped the roaming of my hand by clamping my wrist firmly. She was looking through me when I met her eye, quite implacable.

"Ye-es," I moaned peevishly. "I suppose I must have done."

"You suppose? More detail, please."

"Jill's version was like a Victorian parlour game. Yours was like being worked over in a Victorian brothel."

"Just answer the fucking question, smart arse."

"I enjoyed playing it more with you than with... Jill."

"So-o... you enjoyed playing it more. Did you like me while you were playing?"

"I suppose so... I mean I liked you then. When we were playing."

"More than Jill?" she said with another snigger.

There was a pause.

"What about Jill?"

"Did you like her better than me?"

"I didn't think about her." To be fair, this was the truth.

"Ah. So you didn't like her better... so..."

"God you are an unbelievable bitch."

She let go of my wrist and slid her hand away, so I could resume my prowling on her thigh. I imagined that we were back at the restaurant, and I was sitting at her table and feeling her up underneath it, my hand crawling into her dress and her petticoats as it slid up towards her cunt. It felt very good.

"So?" Her voice went up as she drew this out.

"Okay. So I liked you more than her when we were playing noughts and crosses."

"Is that a problem for you and Jill?" Her mouth hovered near mine again. She was so up herself... I was dying to kiss her.

"Uh? Why?"

"Nature abhors a vacuum," she said, raising her eyebrows theatrically, and sighed as if pondering." Just think, if you'd paid more attention to your duties and got us out to the fireworks, you wouldn't have all this guilt hanging over you 'cos of someone writing on your back with their tits."

"Yeah... vegetating with Jill over a bottle of plonk in a hotel room, all virtue and bad temper... while I could be feeling your nipples poking into my back?"

"So. Was that the right choice, then?"

"What do you think? Well, there was no way I was going to pass on that for a display of marital rectitude. I thought about what we'd done together and what it meant, and I saw I was being a complete arsehole."

"Well you are a complete arsehole," she ventured brightly.

"I know. And you're an evil bitch."

Her hand prowled over my stomach. "You like evil bitches."

"Beautiful evil bitches..."

"Beautiful, evil women who force you to do what you want to do anyway. So... 'you thought about what we'd done together and what it meant'—what did it it mean?"

"I'd rather be here with you, 'lost to sin', than in the hotel 'doing right' by Jill."

"You are not to play noughts and crosses with that stuck up bitch. Do you hear?"

Her hand curled like a snake round the back of my neck and she drew me to her slowly. As our lips touched, her tongue pushed out and plunged into my mouth to do its sly work on me, and feed my infatuation. Then she chewed my left earlobe and murmured, "It would have been really shite if you hadn't compared us 'side by side'."

"Why?"

"You had to know that I'm better in bed. It's a matter of pride," she hissed as her fingers found their way round my cock and she started wanking me in earnest, looking down at it as if she was checking a thermometer.

She moaned as my hand reached her cunt and started to rub it.

I pushed through the moist undergrowth of her dense, dark bush and then my hand reached her pubic bone and the middle finger slithered over her clitoris and went inside, into her slippery warmth.

She brought her head close to me again. "You're making me really wet," she purred, wrapping her arms round my neck. And then she asked, "So how are you going to put her back on her pedestal?" in a gloating voice.

"I can't," I whispered, laughing into her ear. "Some evil bitch came along and broke it."

My cock was blushing and hard in her fist as she worked it, pumping up and down the shaft.

"Oh. So you admit she's fallen off her pedestal?"

"Pushed off it, more like."

"Have you got another option? No? Whatever. 'Nature abhors a vacuum' as Mr Kesson used to say in class," she said, standing up.

She pushed me backwards onto the bed.

"I'm going to fuck you now and we'd better get on with it. Shift".

While I moved into the middle of the bed, she drew those absurd bed curtains back properly. Then moving quickly across the bed on all fours, she hiked herself on top of me, her nipples grazing my chest as she pushed her face close to mine. At that point in time, I found that I had forgotten how heavy people's bodies are when you're not used to this kind of manoeuvring. She seemed to loom over me like a recently fallen angel. As she lay there with her face next to mine, she heaved a long sigh, while I held her and my fingers ran over her back.

"Oh god Jim, I'm so fucking bored with this town. All the decent guys have left... it's like some god forsaken hole where only the tumbleweed rolls. And you've come like the beautiful stranger who steps down off the midnight stage, walking right into my local gin joint to save me from dying of boredom."

My finger tips travelled the smooth curves of her back to take charge of her bum and then combed the volume of it gently.

"The gin joint? You know, I saw you swing out the door in that crazy looking petticoat, and I felt a little something here"—I pushed my forefinger in under her to gesture at my heart—"It was my first glimpse of a fancy and I thought it was going to be my last."

"The first glimpse of a fancy...? Oh. I like that." She slipped to one side so that I could move my hand. I took this as an invitation to rub her breast with my knuckles. Her hand riffled through my hair. "You belong to me tonight. You're my New Year fancy."

Suddenly she poked her tongue out, pointed and pink, lurched over and grabbed me. Her head was tilting quickly from side to side, tricky, and her mouth was full of mischief. She kissed me very gently, lips just slightly moist, then her palm spread onto my cheek as she gazed at me, her eyes still goggling with alcohol.

"Come on Jim, give me some." She reached for me and pulled down my lower lip with the middle bit of her forefinger, dragging it right down so my mouth was wide open. Her tongue swarmed in like an occupying army, slurping its way all around, then flicking and pushing and teasing me with its tip.

Next she fell on me violently, gripping the back of my head as my tongue answered hers. We were silenced in a clumsy passion of snogging and left to the thoughts that passed through our heads.

You're not going to tell her, are you? So why does it matter? That was the point when I understood what was going on between us. What was going on was that we were having an affair. Beneath my conscious notice, a deceitful intimacy had blossomed. The display of her legs in the restaurant was an invitation to join her in a world of reckless pleasure. I could have declined it by allowing Jill to be her escort, while I continued with the others to the fireworks. Instead, I declined to decline it.

But how had it got to there? I must have been looking at her. Right at the beginning, I mean. The first I knew of her existence was listening to her antics outside the toilet at the Jewel of India. Sheer curiosity dictated that I get to see what this gangsteress looked like. Quite ridiculous, was my first thought, with her bouffant petticoats and presidential mannerisms. Maybe I had to look again to be sure. On a second or third glance, perhaps I found a certain charm there, but then again, perhaps not.

People who stare often don't even realise they're doing it, and I was taken aback when she turned her eyes on me, a look that took the nature of my interest for granted. I was indignant at the presumption of this arrogant bitch, but my curiosity grew. And curiosity became temptation, temptation, entanglement, and entanglement, infatuation. I seemed to have sleepwalked into involvement. But now we were having this affair and I didn't want it to end, even though I knew it must, and very shortly.

We were fairly hoovering each other for about half a minute. Then she broke off, breathing heavily and did a push up on my chest so that she sat up straddling me cowgirl style. She had poised herself to take me, but then she came forward so that her breasts hung down like beautiful ripe fruit, troubled by a very light breeze. I reached up to fondle them with the palms of my hands. Damn it, I thought as I felt the nipples standing hard. They are better. She leant a bit more, offering them to me and I took one in my mouth and suckled, flicking it gently with my tongue. I felt quite privileged to have been made party to such lovely things and I handled them with some delicacy.

The suspender belt with its scarlet embroidery still rode on her hips like a gunslinger's holsters, while the stockings were wrinkled, sounding a sluttish note that excited me.

"Onto the pedestal... 'Oh ay say—that cahnt be right. The OTT Scottish lady is crouching on top of him as if she wah a vulture—and omigod he looks as if he's got a bonk on, and it's sticking right up and she looks as if she's going to sit down on it. Oh no, not on his pedestal, not on his ding-dong! Stop that, you buggers! Oh golly, stop it, stop it!'"

She paused. Then she freed a hand, and reaching behind, she took my eye. She now wore that hard, frank look again. The hand went back behind the beautiful mass of her haunches and arse and I felt her take hold of my cock. She looked at me steadily for a moment, then I felt her take it and slide it into the glorious warmth of her cunt.

She started to ride me, slowly and slightly at first, very gently. Involuntarily, my pelvis rose in sympathy as she came down on me and gradually the movement built like the pulse of steadily swelling sea.

"Put your hands round me. Onto my bum. Come on, work with me. You've got to come over to me completely... fuck me. Fuck me, darling. Fuck me, fuck me. That's right."

She was riding me in triumph, ever more vigorously. Behind her, was the long mirror we had used for her 'costume change', and in it, I could see the muscles of her buttocks flexing beautifully, with my cock like the stem of some plant bending pale against the dark shadow of her pubic hair as it fetched in and out of the oily comforts of her body.

She moved to a quick stabbing rhythm and the black stocking tops bobbed around as the suspender straps tightened and loosened against her thighs like the rigging on a boat. Her breath came like a hot wind hissing past my ear.

"Am I going too fast?"

"A bit." I was anxious about losing again it at this speed.

Her hips ground round as if she was taking my measure again.

"That's right. Push up, push up. So it goes right in. You've got to let me convert you properly."

In the mirror I could see her magnificent arse wobbling as her hairy trench slid up and down my cock. She was grunting now, leaning forward as she put her hands on my chest.

I was thrilled by her carnality. I'd never felt anything like it and by now my only thought was to please Janine and to enjoy her. I had a deep and healing sense of being closer to her after the noughts and crosses game, and this was what I needed: to feel that I was going right inside her, that I was going to come inside of her and please this wonderful woman.

"That's right. Push up. Push up. Fuck me, darling, fuck me... oh yeah..."

To begin with, we had been marching to the beats of different drums, but then our steps fell in with each other and I let her steer the pulse. Gradually she was going faster and faster, my cock plunging in and out of her. Our hips were rolling back and forth together with an utter fluency now, as if we'd always belonged to each other. But that wasn't true or at any rate had not been at one time.

There had been Jill. After all, I belonged to Jill didn't I? But now I wanted to run from her and the dismal climate of our relationship. I would go faster and faster to pull clear of her outstretched arms of imprisonment and run into those of this seductive gatecrasher.

Oh god. I'm fucking another woman. It was only as I approached the finality of orgasm that I shed denial and recognised that I was really cheating on my wife and the mother of my son, giving myself to someone else in the most pleasurable, intimate and obvious of ways, someone who could only be an enemy to her. Little by little she was taking Jill's place, a bit more with each lift of her behind.

You're not going to tell her, are you? So why does it matter?

At first, I had tried hard to to warn Jill about Janine. Now I was trying hard to bring Janine to orgasm. Not only was there pleasure in giving in to the temptation of a superior lover, I was also pleased that I had given in to it, to a temptation I no longer had any will to resist.

Janine Coulter... Janine Coulter... Janine Coulter... I kept repeating her name in my head like an idiot, while she rode me as if I was her property. Suddenly I became the locus of an almost painful intensity of feeling, as if my cock was the focal point of the universe, and the spunk squirted out of me and filled her inside. From somewhere I couldn't place came a voice murmuring, "I love you.", a voice I slowly recognised as my own.

I was her property now. Of all betrayals this was the most beautiful and the most deserved. Janine was making up for lost time and really galloping now, with short fast strokes, her hips swinging back and forth like a belly dancer.

As she came, I heard her shrieking and yelling "Yes!".

Suddenly she shouted, "Fuck you Maureen!" and a wave seemed to slowly pass up her body as she slowed to rest.

She cuddled me as the spunk fell and started to dribble out of her onto my balls and pubic hair. I was stunned by the sense of completion that she gave me.

A thought flashed into my head:

I hope I never have to do this with Jill again.

On the face of it, this rocket fuelled desire to enjoy Janine that I had just felt, to penetrate her, make her come and fill her with my semen, this might have been dismissed as mere momentary infatuation. But it wasn't 'mere', and, while this episode might be about to come to a conclusion, I had a feeling that it was going to lie in my thoughts for months, that maybe this was something I couldn't put behind me as a New Year escapade.

She was playing with my hair again.

"I love guys like you."

"What sort of guys"—I had to take a breath—"is that?"

"New guys, skinny ones," she said, taking a breath herself. "Ones who haven't been rotting in this town for the past thirty years. Fresh."

What happens when they're not new? I wondered.

And as we fell into quiescence and she lay in my arms, she murmured Stay there."

"How do you mean?"

"I like to try to hang onto your cock for a bit. It makes a nice finish."

As I went soft I realised that I hadn't thought to worry about my erection because I was with someone who could 'raise Lazarus'.

Why hadn't she done it the first time? But of course, she coughed so that wasn't going to work. Yes. That was it. But then, Why had she kept me waiting with all those questions? That was how I had lost my erection in the first place. Still, maybe I was over-thinking it...

I wanted to give her a cuddle, but she laughed; and squeezed; so my cock flopped out of her and what felt like a deluge of sticky stuff slopped down.

"Oh dear," she said and passed me the tissues. "Past two o' clock, Jim. Do us a favour, love. Put this dressing gown on and go and open that curtain, and keep the light on so he can see it."

**********

I moved quickly to comply as if that would somehow give me more time with her. I wanted to find out more about her, things that would explain her to me and justify my infatuation.

When I returned she was still lounging on the bed in another, lighter, dressing gown, legs crossed like a yogi. I noticed that her phone was lying by her on the bed.

She picked it up and wagged it. "Nothing from Rab."

The dressing gown I was wearing was embroidered with butterflies and things like that. It was a bit small for me, clearly hers. It would have given me the creeps if was wearing Rab's. I thought involuntarily and unpleasantly of his great walrus moustache.

"Hadn't we better be getting dressed?"

"Yeah. In a bit. Pass us those tissues." She showed little sign of moving, beyond wiping her cunt and messing with some lipstick and a compact mirror.

Janine sat up, behind me on the bed, and started to massage my neck. "How was it?" she murmured in a gravel voice. "How do you feel about betraying your wife with some red dress trash you picked up in a restaurant?"

"Pretty good. As red dress trash goes, they don't really come any better. That's the beginning of your virtues."