The Poisonous Cuckoo - Compromise

"I don't know where that came from" I offer breathlessly and honestly. "I've never... like I said... I've never done anything like..."

Kara bites upon her lower lip as she props her body up on her elbows, making no attempt to release her bound ankles, I contemplate releasing the knot that holds her legs together myself but hold off.

"Intense was good," she whispers with a sincerity that's confirmed by fixing me with a devilish grin as she lets go of her bottom lip.

"My turn for the bathroom" I offer still failing to gain composure to my own breath as I wipe my sweating brow. I don't wait for a response I simply step away and cross the room, pressing open the door to the en-suite bathroom.

Closing the door behind me I place my hands on the sink and look up at my flushed reflection. My mind dwells on a multitude of questions spurred by the truly satisfying glow of the impromptu highly rewarding act that I have just performed. Using Kara as I'd never used another woman before.

The control I had exerted, the outright dominance I had held over her in the intensity of the moment that had not lasted anywhere near as long as I would have preferred, as I should have made it.

A dark grin crosses my features, a memory of Kara's promise in her own heightened state that I could use her body how I wished. The little blonde junior employee of Clarkson Cooper could surely not have foreseen such a reaction. As I contemplate I appraise, she had not reacted or objected at any point. She had succumb willingly, her reaction only assisting my intense release.

I need to know more, I need to explore further as I look now into my dark dilated eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

Reaching down I pull the condom from my now increasingly flaccid dick, feeling the uncharacteristic slick feel of the protective sheath. Holding the used condom up before me as my foot steps upon the peddle of the bin beneath the sink a fear grips me.

A split running along the condom born either of my impatience in applying or caused by the vigour of the intensity it had been expected to endure.

Dropping the condom into the bin I let the lid fall heavily, as I turn on the cold tap and scoop a handful of water into my mouth. The clear cold liquid refreshes and soothes my throat but does little to quell the fresh raging emotions that churn within my mind.

Opening the bathroom door I step back into the master bedroom. Kara looks up at me seductively from the bed, her body now slipped under the duvet, her eyes glazed and watery as she pinches her nostrils between the forefinger and middle finger of her left hand, fresh cocaine inhalation has undoubtedly occurred.

"Took your time," she mischievously goads.

"Yeah I..." words uncharacteristically fail me as I stand before her.

"Never mind..." Kara offers, "...come here and show me more of that intensity."

Unsure if she speaks her mind or if the purity of the cocaine coursing through her body and mind speaks for her I step forward across the bedroom.

All thoughts of the split condom parked as she rises to her knees from beneath the bed covers, her right hand clutching the two dishevelled looking stockings as she extends her arm towards me

"Use them again..." Kara whispers fixing me with a sultry stare, "...Use me again."

**********

Sat behind the screen of my laptop at the desk situated in the bay window of the ground floor study that overlooks the street I glance over my right shoulder.

A cold frosty December Sunday morning sees little movement through the window that affords a view over much of the terraced street making the encroaching Taxi easy to discern.

The sound of Kara's heels echo through the hallway from the kitchen. I had left her sat at the breakfast bar clutching a black coffee around twenty minutes ago. The slight awkwardness of her presence the morning after the night before was now a lingering nuisance given the multitude of tasks I had to perform across the day.

"My Ubers near," I hear her state as she steps cautiously into the room.

As I look up Sophie, my Chocolate Brown Labrador also looks up from where she had been dozing in her bed in the corner of the study. I doubt Sophie judged Kara as much as I did.

Her blonde dishevelled hair sits to her shoulders combed out with her fingers as best she could achieve with my lack of a brush, other than the ones suitable for Sophie. Her long black overcoat sits over her creased purple ball gown, unsurprisingly her nylon stockings no longer sit beneath her simple ankle strap heels.

"I think it just pulled up outside" I offer, not looking back as the soft beep of a car horn confirms my suspicion.

Standing from behind the mahogany desk I'm not entirely sure of the etiquette of such a situation, an awkwardness lingers in the room that even Sophie senses as she opts to curl back into the velvet grey bed.

"So..." Kara offers from behind sunken dark eyes that tell a tale of too much cocaine and too little sleep.

"Yeah... well I'll be in touch," I offer on a weak smile.

"I suspect you won't...." Kara bluntly states, "I get it.... Just a bit of fun... probably a tried and tested routine."

She turns immediately on her heels and heads back into the hallway. Opting not to follow her I ponder her reaction to my less than subtle treatment of her following a night of heightened and truth be told unforgettable carnal interaction.

Kara was an employee though, a far junior employee but that mattered little given how ultimately she was as grotesquely removed from what I typically sought of a typical relationship. She ultimately constituted little more than a memorable, a very memorable, one night stand.

"We obviously need to keep..." I offer as I decide to follow her towards the hallway while an uncharacteristic pang of guilt grips me.

"Don't..." she offers, looking back from the open main door of the townhouse. "...I'm not the type to fuck and tell ...what happened ...it stays between us."

Making to step forward I change my mind on following her and stand in the study doorway not least on seeing the wetness build in her eyes.

"Your secret is safe with me," Kara continues as she slips through the front door before pulling it heavily closed behind her.

As I hear her heeled footsteps head down the flight of steps to the front of the building my mind lingers on the one secret not shared with Kara Taylor, the burst condom that still sits in the bottom of a peddle bin two floors above me in the vast residence.

Crossing the study I hear the diesel engine of the taxi idle away down the street, I briefly ponder the consequence as much as my failure to disclose the matter.

As complex and serious as the matter may be I choose not to dwell on the likelihood of repercussions as once more my mind passes to the intensity of the feelings born of the nights conquest. Fixating not so much on the physical conquest of Kara Taylor, exquisite as that had eventually been. My mind lingers on the manner of her conquest, not a 'familiar routine' as she had alluded to in her rejection of the events of the night during which she had allowed me to restrain her twice more for far more prolonged heightened intercourse than her first bound dalliance. Certainly, then perhaps the acts carried out are a routine I should like to explore further given the rapture gained from such exploits across the night into the early hours.

Sitting back at my desk I return to the near complete email before me on the laptop screen. Rereading the words typed to ensure clarity in the brief but precise content to Magdalene Brewer, HR Director at Clarkson Cooper.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Magdalene

I trust you enjoyed yourself at the Party last night (Saturday).

My apologies that we did not catch up for longer, mine was but a fleeting appearance.

Seems like a good time was being had by all. Perhaps too good a time for a few.

Saddens me to say I unfortunately witnessed consumption of what I suspect to be Class A drugs by a number of our junior employees.

Perhaps a Monday morning random drugs test in line with our HR Policy and employees contractual commitments would be advisory.

Have a good Christmas with the family.

Sincerely

Markus Halliday

~~~~~~~~~~

Checking the ambiguous prose a final time I don't hesitate on clicking send on the email.

I handle the recklessness of the uncharacteristic situation I have created with a brutal ruthlessness.

"Fancy a walk to help me blow away the cobwebs" I offer.

Sophie energetically springs from her bed and pads obediently towards me as I begin to rise from the chair

"C'mon on then..." I offer stepping across the study knowing full well she will obediently following in my wake, "...Good girl"

***********************************

Chapter Two - The Voyeur

***********************************

A harsh freezing wind whistled through the trees as I approached the clearing ahead.

Sophie bounds energetically through the frost laced undergrowth to my left careening onto the well trodden muddy path ahead of us that leads to where the Silver Range Rover is parked. The eight and a half miles my sport watch indicates we've walked have done little to deplete her energy reserves. Whereas I on the other hand feel jaded and in need of at the very least a hot strong black coffee. Side effects of a heavy night and fractured sleep of the night previous hang over me on the passing hazy memory of a raucous night of indulgence,

Looking up I spot the White transit van parked up diagonally opposite of the Range Rover. As I draw closer I cast my eye along the words printed along the side of the vehicle in navy blue capital letters. 'MARTIN HUME KITCHENS AND BATHROOMS.' I pay little to no further attention despite being aware of the solitary male sat in the drivers seat of the vehicle who presumably has just returned or is just about to set off on a Sunday morning stroll much like Sophie's and my own.

Approaching my own vehicle I open the boot of the car remotely and without request Sophie obediently jumps up onto the laid out tartan blanket stretched across the empty boot to save muddy paws soiling the upholstered interior.

"Tired girl?" I offer as I unzip my dark green wax jacket whilst I casually throw her unrequited rope lead into the spacious boot. Sophie offers me a look that suggests she is nowhere near as jaded as I am.

Moments later I sit in the plush leather drivers' seat, the engine silently idling as the in-car heater gently warms my chilled slightly aching body. A smirk crossing my features at the cause of my sore muscles. Keeping up with the Stefanija the twenty two year old female stripper who I had eventually and at no small cost convinced to accompany me home, despite house rules, from the Silver Door strip club.

Stefanija's intimate personal performance when we had arrived back at my Town House had been rewarded with sexual congress until five in the morning at which point she had arranged a taxi to collect her and left me to sleep an exhausted sleep brought about by her energetic and insatiable lithe body.

Turning on the stereo within the car the dashboard screen illuminates and a top of the hour news bulletin sounds through the speakers.

I pay little attention to the words of the female news reader as I watch a dark green Mini Cooper slowly approach the hard standing of the secluded car park from along the compacted gravel road way.

"Getting busier around this place," I offer aloud to Sophie as I watch the Mini through a misted windscreen as despite the near empty car park it pulls up alongside of the white transit van. In all the years Sophie and I had utilised this spot I don't think I've ever known more than one vehicle to be parked in the well hidden spot.

Barely has the vehicle come to a steady stop than I observe the female occupant of the vehicle step from the car a long elegant boot clad leg steps out closely followed by a slender frame.

Her clothes immediately strike me as being alien to the surrounding landscape. The sharp heel of her black ankle boots seem to me as being highly impractical, black boots that meet thick black tights that stretch over her legs to a short black and white hounds tooth skirt. Her chestnut brown hair falls to the shoulders of a little black fitted leather jacket over her upper body.

As she turns and glances over left shoulder I recognise her immediately. Jana Anderson.

On instinct I reach for the door handle of the Land Rover. As she walks around the rear of the dark green vehicle I stop myself as she approaches the driver's door of the white van she has parked parallel to. As she does so the driver's door opens and the male, a rugged looking thirty something with scruffy hair, dressed in a plaid shirt and dark coloured workwear style trousers, slips from the van.

The scene playing out holds my attention. More so as Jana Anderson immediately slips her arms around his shoulders and embraces him with a kiss that is impassioned from the outset.

Turning up the Range Rivers circulated heat I use the anonymity of the misted windscreen to watch what transpires. He presses Jana to the side of the vehicle as they continue to harshly kiss come devour one another. His body pressing firmly up against hers, pressing her against the white van in the secluded woodland area.

Moments later I watch as their kiss breaks and I continue to watch on as he leads Jana by the hand towards the rear of the vehicle. Letting go of her hand only to pull open both rear doors to the vehicle. Jana looks from him to the back of the vehicle and then back to him before without a moment of hesitation she steps up into the back of the Van, he doesn't look around his eyes follow her as he clambers into the back of the vehicle and pulls the doors closed behind them.

I sit there for several moments fully appreciative of the apparent infidelity of my business partners wife. My mind casting to the perfect family image that Simon Anderson always paints of his ideal domestic bliss. As the radio continues to softly provide an unaligned soundtrack to the scene I continue to fixate My thoughts aren't of sympathy towards Simon Anderson. My thoughts dwell on the unknown male, an envy that borders burning jealousy burns within in me at the unknown pleasures he must surely be experiencing in the company of Jana Anderson.

I'm crossing the makeshift car park before I truly appreciate what I'm doing. Stepping slowly cautiously towards the two parked vehicles. The sounds emanating from the confines of the windowless rear of the van so alien to the peaceful tranquillity of bird song from the canopy of trees above me.

Finding myself stood within touching distance of the rear doors of the van I hear Jana's gasps of pleasure and delight. Hear her staring his name "Martin" on repetition, her breath even muffled by the closed van doors seems hitched and raspy. His deep groans intersperse her increasingly ecstatic cries.

For several minutes I stand there listening without being able to observe but with my imagination in overdrive as I imagine Jana semi naked being pleasured in the sordid confines of the rear of the vehicle. I imagine myself in his place, how she would feel, how she would smell, how I would be taking control of her adulterous perfect body.

Stepping away as I hear her climax build and hear her unfettered bliss echo around the vehicle I turn my back on the sordid act and head towards the obscurity of my own vehicle, little knowing how long it will be before they reemerge from the back of the vehicle.

As I sit back behind the steering wheel of my vehicle every instinct is to drive away, to leave behind the sordid adultery that I have haphazardly stumbled across. My dark sense of intrigue captivates me though. I cannot bring myself to leave the car park.

Only a matter of minutes later I watch as the two of them clamber from the back of the vehicle into the wintry morning air. He leads buttoning his red and black plaid shirt. Jana follows pulling the hem of her skirt down over the tops of pale thighs that meet jet black hold up stockings. I let go a breath I was unaware I held onto. Scanning my eyes across her body as she zips her little leather jacket up over a black bra.

Their interaction is sterile in comparison to the passion I have overheard. Brief words exchanged a gentle kiss that lingers for barely seconds before they both make their way to the doors of their respective vehicles.

With a plume of white fumes from the exhaust the Vans engine ticks over and the white light on the rear right illuminates just prior to the van reversing back before it drives away along the only access road to and from the car park.

Jana/s vehicle does not look to move, I act swiftly. With the engine still ticking over silently I slip the automatic vehicle into drive and despite the misted windscreen pull forward traversing a matter of meters until I pull up behind Jana's dark green Mini and apply the handbrake. Positioning the vehicle in such a way that she will be unable to reverse back had she wanted to.

As I step from the Range Rover she seems oblivious to both myself and her lack of an exit. Walking alongside of the snub vehicle I watch as she fixes her hair in the rear-view mirror. Tussled dishevelled hair as a result of her recent carnal activity.

Reaching out I tap my left knuckles gently on the driver's side window. I hear her gasp, I see her jump as wide eyed she turns her head to face towards me. The look of startled shock that falls across her features darkly amuses me.

"Markus..." she states electronically lowering the window hurriedly.

"I thought it was you Jana," I warmly offer refusing to acknowledge her more than obvious panic.

"What... what are you..." Jana fumbles over her words, "...how long have you?"

"Long enough..." I state coldly with a weak smile as I watch her beautiful dark eyes dart from side to side. "...I've just been taking Sophie for a walk."

"Markus I can... I mean..." Jana offers as a palpable panic grips her voice as strongly as it does her features.

"You don't need to explain..." I stare cutting across her, "...although I think I now know why it took so long to complete your kitchen before Christmas."

Jana Anderson falls silent, a sickening realisation must surely grip her stomach at the exposure of her adulterous behaviour.

"Markus..." I can hear the nervousness in her frail voice even before she pleads, "...Simon ...Simon can't find out about this."

"Don't worry..." I state looking down through the open window at the tops of her toned stocking clad thighs. A dark plan already formulating in my mind. "...I'm sure there's an understanding we can come to."

**********

Pulling the Range Rover into the reserved bay at the front of the Town House sat in the middle of a terrace of identical looking Georgian property's my mind still lingers on both the promiscuity of Jana Anderson and the brief conversation held in the middle of the thick woodland surroundings.

Switching off the engine I step to the rear of my vehicle and open the boot. Sophie who had slept throughout the journey jumps down and immediately falls at my side on the pavement.

As we head up the steps I hear the female voice to my left.

"Oh my... She's beautiful"

I turn my head and could echo the same sentiment. Stood clutching a heavy looking cardboard box against her chest even in flat little adidas pumps she must be six foot tall, her slender legs wrapped in figure hugging pale blue jeans with casually ripped knees. The box prevents me observing her upper body, but a loose fit grey hooded sweatshirt possibly wouldn't flatter her physique. Her hazel colour hair pulls back into a long ponytail and her face is barely obscured by any make up. Her natural beauty speaks for her.