The Corruption of Katherine Pt. 01

The Arrangement

It was an accident, really. I'm a middle-aged guy, divorced from the witch of the world, with four grown kids who don't want to know me. Fortunately, there's Dot. She's blonde and petite and vivacious, and we met at work, by chance, really. I'd gone to the wrong conference room and interrupted a meeting. Glancing around the table, I knew my error and apologized, but I really was frozen to the spot as my eyes met hers.

Well, long story short, we started working together, dating, screwing, and ended up buying a nice little bedsit off the Droveway in Brighton. Dot still lived with her aging divorced father in Hove, and she wanted everything perfect in the new place before she moved in with me, so that left me alone with the new furniture, cozy fireplace, and a big grey tom cat named Scary.

Dot called me from her Dad's at every opportunity, and we did weekends together in London together or just taking in a movie locally, but I was still alone in the evening with my work on my computers and time to surf the Web for porn. Lots of porn. I have a whole computer full of porn of all types: photos, stories, videos. I especially like Japanese porn because they haven't forgotten it's all about the pussy. Dot hadn't a clue about any of it, dear girl. Meanwhile, my cock ached for action on a daily basis.

Now Dot had a girlfriend called Katherine that she met through a work acquaintance who shared a flat with Katherine.

I met Katherine about six months ago in a pub in Eastbourne. Dot and I had gone there to do some shopping; Dot had called her friend on her mobile, found she too was in Eastbourne on her day off, and agreed to meet us for lunch.

I was stunned. Katherine was gorgeous. She is of medium height with mischievous hazel eyes and a rosebud mouth, upturned at the corners, that begs to be kissed. Her long dark hair with chestnut highlights moves with her body in sensuous waves. Her breasts are nicely in proportion to her body, and her wide hips and little bump of a tummy promised comfort to a climax as I imagined myself lying naked on top of her, fucking away in her pussy. I meant to fulfil that promise. It was lust at first sight.

We met Katherine infrequently. She is single, divorced, and a church secretary with a very limited social life and a timid attitude to men. Certainly she treated me with a nervous friendliness as Dot's partner.

So Dot took her under her wing and began inviting her to family Christmas with us at Dot's Dad's place, and then arranging more time together in the shops and pubs along the coast, including birthday celebrations in our flat or in nice restaurants.

Sometimes Dot went off after work by herself to see Katherine while I fixed supper at home for Scary and me. Afterwards, Dot would call me to confide all the girly gossip.

Then one day, she giggled on about Katherine's "itchy" problem. They had been talking about their cunts. Dot's is dry, to go with her dry eye syndrome, which is why we don't screw much anymore. Too painful for her. Good thing she's one of the six percent of women who get off on having their nipples molested.

So she told Katherine about this problem over a pint, and Katherine, after a pause and a second pint, confided that she was gooey "down there" all right, in fact, downright itching for a fuck, but she was scared to pick up men in pubs.

Dot was eager to help and quite knowledgeable so she described for Katherine several types of dildos and vibrators and other ways to relieve one's feminine itch, but it gave me quite a turn to hear Dot tell it.

After I rang off with Dot, I found myself staring at porn actresses on my computer screen as they moaned and screamed their way through a vigorous fucking and imagined that the body in the video with the bouncing boobs and creamy vagina was Katherine. My lust for her was growing by leaps of the imagination to the point of being intolerable.

Dot and her Mum go off once a year to the Scottish highlands for a week's vacation, Dot to shop for woollens and her Mum to reminisce about her childhood in Cromarty. So there I was, alone with Scary again in the new flat, working on my computer—I'm a writer by trade—and masturbating to the hot sex I'd downloaded from the Internet. I have quite a collection of classic French porn movies.

Then one evening that week, I was contemplating another computer sex session and getting randy, when the doorbell rang. I was flustered to find Katherine standing hesitantly on my doorstep. I invited her inside and listened to her stammer that she had left an umbrella in our flat the week before when she visited.

She went on about the rain this June and how miserable it would be for the tourists and how the church was in an uproar about the sudden resignation of the minister, who had found he'd lost his faith after a mysterious trip to Dorset. Meanwhile, I was feverishly hoping that she couldn't see my erection making a tent in the front of my pants.

She suddenly stopped babbling and said, "I'm babbling on, I guess. Sorry." She looked away with an embarrassed smile and back at me.

"That's OK," I said. I didn't tell her that I'm very tolerant of women when I'm feeling randy. "But you might say 'hello' first."

She blushed. "Oh, right. Hello." She leaned forward to peck me on the cheek, the Dot-approved greeting we had settled on. Somehow, her lips slipped. Maybe it was my face that moved. We'll probably never know. Instead of my cheek, her lips met my lips, and I pressed home the sudden advantage, encircling her waist with my arms and pulling her body close. I felt her catch her breath and start to push me away. But as her hands came up against my chest, they relaxed and then rested on my shoulders. It was a long embrace and a deep kiss.

"Wow, what was that?" she said as we finally broke from the clinch, standing there in the June sunshine that came through the slit window beside the door.

"Hmmmmm," I replied. "That was brilliant. I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Katherine Handley."

She blushed again, looked away, and stammered "I ... I don't know what to say."

"Just be honest," I said. "Say you like it and would like to do it again."

She looked away distractedly, then straightened and said directly, "You're right. I did like it. But what about Dot?"

"Good question," I replied. "I've thought a good deal about that, and believe it or not, I've talked to Dot about it."

Katherine took a step back in alarm. "You have? We'd better talk about this. I'll put on for some tea." At which she marched into my kitchen and plugged in the kettle. Fifteen minutes later we were curled up beside each other on the sofa, Scary watching us from his favourite chair across the room, our teacups steaming on the coffee table in front of us. "So, what did you and Dot say about me?"

I explained how Dot and I had been discussing our problem of no sex, since her pussy was dry and painful during intercourse, while my libido was running wild with no healthy outlet. Dot didn't like the idea of my sitting at home masturbating in front of porn videos on the computer, mostly because she hates the porn more than the masturbating. But she hated the idea of hiring prostitutes even worse.

So I suggested she choose a surrogate for me. "Surrogate?" queried Katherine. "You mean a substitute sex partner?"

"Exactly," I replied. "I thought that if Dot made the choice herself, she could live with it because it would be her choice, someone she knows and likes and trusts, someone with whom she can talk about her feelings and who will give her the measure of control over the situation that she needs. She wouldn't have to worry that I'm off cheating with someone's wife or a mistress."

"So we've left it in the air, so to speak. Dot's going to mull it over while she and her Mum walk the Scottish moors this week, and she'll let me know what she thinks when she gets home. She's called twice from Inverness this week in the evening, but she won't discuss it over the phone. I suspect her Mum listens in, and her Mum disapproves of any talk of sex."

Then I told Katherine that Dot had disclosed their private conversation about Katherine's "itch" problem to me, and that it had inflamed my already burning lust for her body. Her eyes grew round with fright and then narrowed at me.

"So you want me to be the surrogate? Don't do me any favours!" This last was delivered with an indignant snort.

"No, no, no," I protested. "I didn't mean to make you into a sex slave or anything. In fact, I was hoping, if you agree, that some recreational sex might relax you enough with men that you can start dating again, and perhaps find someone who really loves you."

I paused and watched her think about this. "If that positive, nurturing relationship comes along, Dot and I will be very happy for you." I paused again. "And you can end our relationship, sexual that is, any time you want."

She took a sip of tea and visibly relaxed, thinking hard. She put the cup on the table and leaned over to put her hand in mine. "You're really a kind, caring man," she said finally. "I'm just not used to men like that. My husband was a brute. Some of the men from the church are such cretins. They're fat lecherous old hypocrites who make rude remarks about my body to my face and behind their wives' backs. Even the younger men on the committees at church say rude things when they know I'm listening. So give me a minute, here."

She paused again in thought. "I ... I have to say I sort of like the idea." She blushed again. "But I do want to talk to Dot. She's my friend, and I don't want anything to change that. I have to know she approves."

"Right then," I said. "We'll get together next week and have a chat. How is that? Whatever the result, please know that I'll accept it." With that, I leaned over and kissed her. And Katherine kissed me back.

The next Wednesday evening found the three of us around the little round kitchen table in my flat sipping our after-supper coffee and listening to the automatic dishwasher chugging our dishes clean.

"Well," said Katherine nervously. "I see you two have been discussing me." To me she said, "Did you tell her what happened last week?"

I nodded. I knew that telling Dot was important because Dot would want to know that Katherine was comfortable with the idea of being a sex surrogate for me, that everything would be done in an open atmosphere of mutual respect and caring.

Dot nodded too. "Yes, he told me, Katherine. That's one big reason why we're a couple. We tell each other everything. Are you sure you're OK with this?"

Katherine nodded. "Oh yes, I've thought about it and I feel it will be good for me, but I need to know you're good with it too, Dottie", she replied. "You know I'm not out to steal your husband."

Dot nodded and they both laughed. "Well," said Dot. "This is certainly going to be a modern arrangement."

"I'm going to a conference in Chelsea on Friday," Dot continued. "I'll be staying overnight at an hotel because I have an appointment with my eye specialist on Saturday morning." She paused and looked at us with a smile that was almost a leer. "So, am I making myself clear?"

Katherine blushed. "I've already put myself on the pill," she confessed.

Friday evening I picked up Katherine from work instead of letting her drive to my flat in her Mazda sedan. I didn't want my neighbours to speculate about an extra car in the little car park for our block of flats or to crane their necks to get a glimpse of the strange woman emerging from my door on Saturday morning. Salacious rumours could lead to trouble for all three of us.

Supper was a simple curry takeaway that we picked up on the way home, and then tea on the sofa in front of the TV. But I couldn't tell you what the program was because all I wanted was Katherine.

I leaned across to her and started kissing her full, rosebud mouth. She responded. My hand slipped down to caress her breast, and she began to breathe heavily. I undid the top buttons on her blouse and slipped my hand inside to feel her bra.

More kissing got me hotter and I tried to slip my fingers under her bra to feel her nipple. Movement under the tight bra was awkward, but I felt the nipple hardening as the pads of my fingers rotated across it.

Suddenly Katherine gripped my wrist and pulled my hand away from her bra. With a sigh of exasperation, she said, "Enough. Let's do it. Come on." With that, she led the way to the bedroom.

Scary followed us and jumped up on the dresser to see what was happening. I felt surprised at Katherine's directness as she undid her blouse and her skirt, tossing them with her shoes and stockings onto the slipper chair. This was a side of her I had not seen, but I liked it very much, and I admired her no-nonsense acceptance of our sexual needs. Her mind made up, she was all action.

As I removed my own shirt and trousers, I watched her unhook her bra and toss it onto the slipper chair beside the bed, allowing her creamy white breasts to jiggle free. I noticed that the nipples were erect, such a good sign of things to come.

Katherine pulled her white panties down to the floor, and I saw for the first time her pussy nestled in the valley between her legs. Her cunt hair was luxuriously curly black with deep chestnut highlights, curling across the slit of her vulva, its pouting lips promising dark and dirty pleasures.

It was the most luscious, sexually arousing pussy I had ever seen, a fulfilment of all my fantasies, the Holy Grail of all the cunts I had seen fucked in porn videos. I wanted to feel it, taste it, explore it, and above all, fuck it and leave my sperm deep inside it.

My cock was now rampant, pushing up the cloth of my boxer shorts. Katherine giggled at the tent, and I wondered again why women giggle at the sight of an erect penis. So I pulled my shorts down and let my cock bounce free.

She reached for it, and I reached for her pussy. As I felt her hand move up and down my smooth shaft, my fingers felt through her pubic hair and into the smooth, warm slit of her vagina. We looked up at each other with a new awareness as she stroked my penis and I poked an experimental finger up into her warm cunt.

She willingly let me arrange her on her back on the bed. Without hesitation, I moved to the end of the bed on my knees and spread her legs. I sprawled forward into the valley between her creamy white thighs and savoured the smell of her cunt. I licked her pussy and roved my tongue around her clit.

An urgent lust engulfed me, and I knelt up between her legs, bringing my penis into sweet conjunction with her juicy labia. I rubbed the head of my cock up and down her vulva slit, and then I pushed it into her vagina.

Oh, the feeling of that first stroke up Katherine's cunt! It was warm, it was wet, it was deep inside the delectable Katherine. I set about a steady rhythm: in and out, in and out. Soon I could hear her grunting with pleasure.

"Oh oh oh, ah ah ah, yeeessss," she murmured, then looked down between her legs and saw my cock in her cunt and giggled. I paused, my hot stiff skewer buried to the hilt in her sex sheath. I chuckled. She giggled again. Then I started again, slow.

She grunted again with pleasure as she felt my thick hard cock head moving in her vagina and rubbing its corrugated walls. She murmured in a panting whisper, "I have to admit I've been looking forward to this feeling for a long time. My vibrator just wasn't doing it for me. I needed to feel a cock deep inside."

She paused as her whole body shook with a violent orgasm. I just kept thrusting, deeper and faster into her warm, wet pussy, feeling her pubic hair mingling with mine. As Katherine reached her second orgasm, mine hit me. My cock stiffened and we came together in a great heaving mass of thrusting and cunt juice and wet sperm and groans of pleasure. "Oh oh oh. Ah. ah. ah. aaarrrrrggggggh. Ah ah ah."

God was in his heaven. All was right in my world. My agreement with Dottie and Katherine was working perfectly. Or so I thought.