Twelve Months Pt. 02

When I wake up the next morning, I briefly wonder if it had all been just a dream, but I quickly realise that it did actually happen. Cassie got in late and I quietly slip out of bed, careful not to wake her. Perhaps if Cassie showed a little more interest in sex I wouldn't have been so tempted, I think as I munch a slice of wholemeal toast, although deep down I know I can hardly blame her for what happened and I'm more disappointed with myself.

I find it hard to concentrate when I get to the office. I should be typing up interview notes, organising a sprint and updating the coding standards but I can't help thinking about what happened. I never thought that I'd be the kind of person to cheat on his pregnant wife, although perhaps everyone thinks that right up to the point that they give into temptation. I kept staring at the screen, not really seeing anything, my hands resting lifelessly on my keyboard as I struggle to concentrate, my mind conjuring up an image of Madeleine's face, gazing up at me, examining me coolly, watching my reactions like I was an experimental subject as her soft fingers caressed and stroked me till I lost all control.

In my defence, she'd definitely coerced me, virtually blackmailed me into it and yet I couldn't deny how deeply erotic I'd found the whole experience. Still, I resolved, it was a once-only thing, I'd paid off whatever debt Madeleine felt I owed for spying on her. I reassured myself it was a momentary lapse of fidelity that could be quickly forgotten, certainly no need to confess to Cassie. What good would that do? Least said, soonest mended, right? Just one of those things. In any case, I promised myself, the next time I saw her I'd make it perfectly clear that it had been a mistake and I'd call her bluff. Go to the police, but they'll just tell you're wasting your time, I'd say breezily. Or tell Cassie if you want but what good would that really do you, I'd argue.

It was maybe a week later, another warm evening when I saw her again. It had been a busy day at work, we'd been interviewing candidates for two junior developer positions and when I stepped out of our air-conditioned office and into the car park, I was surprised at the humid closeness. On the way home, the radio presenter had boasted how it was warmer here than in Madrid as if we were constantly in competition with Spain. As before, I'd parked the car when I saw her leaning over our shared fence in the wing mirror.

"Hello John, I thought perhaps you might help me with a little DIY again," she said, with the slightest hint of a smile.

She turned and strode back into her house before I could reply and I found myself following her, thinking that this would be a good opportunity to make my feelings clear and remembering to pause just inside the door to remove my shoes.

I felt the cool smoothness of the grey floor tiles through my socks as I followed her voice into the house. It was a large, spacious kitchen with bifold doors leading out onto her neat, well-tended garden. A small breakfast bar divided it from the dining area. She had her back to me as she took a bottle of wine from her large, brushed steel fridge, giving me a chance to look her up and down.She was wearing a loose pink t-shirt and a pair of faded denim cutoffs that hugged the peachy curves of her rear.

"Listen, about last week..." I started to say, looking up as she turned to face me.

"Wine?" she interrupted, holding up a glass and before I could reply she poured me one.

"Oh, um, just a small one please, I really shouldn't stay," I said, determined to set off on the right foot this time. I took the glass, the cold surface coated with dewy moisture.

"Worried about what the neighbours will say? Oh, do come and sit down for a minute, it looks like you could do with a drink," she said, as she perched on a bar stool and casually leaned on the black marble of her breakfast bar.

I don't know how she knew but it was true, it had been a difficult day. We were desperately short-staffed and yet the candidates sent along for interview over the last couple of days hadn't really impressed us. The head of department was still insisting we get someone in quickly though and I felt caught between going along with him in order to help meet our deadlines and holding out for programmers who I felt were up to our standard.

"You know, you're right, it has been a tough day," I said, raising a glass and taking a sip. I'm not a big wine enthusiast but it was deliciously clean and flinty tasting, and just what I needed in this clinging heat.

"Oh yes?" she prompted, briefly standing up to slide a coaster under my glass.

"You don't want to hear about my problems," I said.

"No, I don't mind, it's so quiet without Libby, I'm glad of the company," she replied, taking a sip of her wine.

And so we got to talking. She was a good listener, only occasionally prompting me with questions and soon I was telling her about how I grew up in a leafy suburb of south London, how I'd dropped out of university early and got a job in IT, how I'd met Cassie at an A&E after twisting my ankle playing tennis, how we'd found the house.

And in return, she told me how she'd married young, had her daughter Libby in her early twenties, how her pilot husband had left soon after, how she'd struggled to trust men for a while. How she'd struggled financially until a friend had suggested she join her recruitment company when Libby was in her teens and had never looked back. How she'd studied psychology to help her with her work. How much she loved gardening and hated DIY.

"Oh, you work in recruiting?" I asked, wondering if this is why she always seemed to read me so well.

"Yes, I only do specialist management recruiting now," she said, my eyes flicking downwards as she crossed her long legs. "You know, head hunting."

"Listen," I said, finishing my wine and leaning forward a little, trying to resist staring at her legs. I hoped that since we'd now shared some experiences we might level with each other now. "Be honest, you're not really going to call in the police, are you?"

"Hmm, I don't know, I do like the idea of you in handcuffs," she said, a playful smile on her moist lips as she reached out, her fingers stroking my tie which dangled between us. "You know I haven't quite decided what I'm going to do with you yet."

As I work in IT, I didn't often wear a tie, but because I was interviewing I'd put on my favourite this morning, an expensive olive green silk tie that Cassie had bought me for Christmas.

"Maybe I should call the police, tell them all about how you're blackmailing me into sex?" I speculated.

She laughed, a light, musical laugh that surprised me, I don't think I'd heard her laugh before: "Oh John, do you think they're going to believe that? You think they'll believe a respectable woman and mother like me is forcing her younger neighbour to do that? Especially after I tell them how you've been spying on me, watching me undress from the bushes like some kind of pervert."

Her fingers closed around my tie, pulling me down towards her gently yet firmly till our faces are level, a couple of inches apart. Up close, I could see she was wearing a little makeup, some soft pink lipstick and mascara to emphasize those dusky eyes. I could see they were lighter grey towards the centre with a darker grey rim beneath her finely drawn, rust brown eyebrows.

"As I remember it, you forced your way into the house and ravished me. Took advantage of a poor, single woman," she said, stroking the silk with her fingertips.

"I took advantage of you, huh?" I said, shaking my head.

"Oh yes, that's how I remember it. Tore my clothes off and then made me satisfy your perverse sexual urges. Threw me onto the bed and forced me against my will to suck that lovely big dick," she said crudely, sliding her fingers higher and deftly loosening the knot at my throat.

"You like playing games, huh?" I murmur, over the soft hiss of the silk sliding through my collar.

"Well, I certainly like playing games with you, John," she replied, as she pulled the tie free and twisted it around her hands thoughtfully, her fingers pulling at it, testing its strength.

"Maybe I don't like your games," I said, although even as I formed the words it sounded unconvincing.

"Oh I think you do," she said, slowly reaching out, her well-manicured fingers encircling my wrists, drawing them together. "I think you like them a lot."

I couldn't deny it, and I only put up a token struggle as she pressed my wrists together and wound the silk around them.

--

I lie naked on her bed, my hands resting on my stomach and expertly bound in green silk, staring upwards, my eyes following a hairline crack in the plain white ceiling. If I twist my head to the right, I can see the two new colourful, abstract prints that I helped hang on the wall. The sun is starting to sink behind the trees at the back, the light angling in now softening and starting to fade although it's still very warm and humid. I shiver a little as a cool breeze from the open window drifts across my bare skin, its cool fingers combing the sparse hair of my chest. My cock stirs, thickening a little as I watch her slip off a pair of pale green panties, carefully placing them on top of her neatly folded clothes as she joins me on the bed.

She regards me with a neutral expression as she sits astride my stomach, ignoring my prick which twitches hopefully. She grasps my wrists sliding them higher as she kisses her way up over my chest. Her full breasts hover inches above my lips as she firmly pushes my bound hands higher till they're pressed against the rich burgundy fabric of her headboard, her expression making it clear that they're to stay there. I draw a throaty chuckle from her as I strain my neck muscles, kissing the soft flesh, drawing the tip into my mouth and flicking my tongue over one of her plump nipples.She lets me suck at her for a long second, then I shiver as she eases back, running her nails along the taut, corded underside of my outstretched arms. She slides lower, a hand cupping my chin and kissing me, softly at first then more passionately as she grinds her warm body against mine. I gasp helplessly as her sharp little teeth nip at my neck and I feel her glossy fingernails toying with one of my nipples, squeezing it till I wriggle uncomfortably.

Neither of us say anything as she quickly repositions herself, looking down at me as she plants her knees on either side of my head, locking my arms in place and shifting her hips so that my vision is dominated by her pale thighs and the mouth-watering sight of her naked pussy. Neither of us has said anything, there's no need, it's clear what she wants and I know that I'm unlikely to be freed before she's satisfied. I'm only slightly surprised to find that I'm happy to give it to her, to submit to her will.

She's brought her wine with her and she takes a sip as she looks down at me expectantly. I start by softly kissing her silky thighs then using my lips to explore her prominent labia. She gives a soft moan of approval and runs a hand through my short hair, easing it from my forehead as I begin to lick her with long, lingering strokes of my tongue.

I don't think I've been in this position before. I remember experimenting a little like trying the sixty-nine position with Cassie when we first dated but that was about mutual pleasure. This isn't that. As her hips begin to undulate, it's clear that this is all solely about Madeleine's pleasure, that I'm here to serve and I shouldn't expect anything until she achieves it.

She puts her wine glass down and leans back now, moving her arms behind her arched back and planting her hands on my chest as she slowly eases her hips back and forth, allowing her to control the pace as she rubs the full length of her slick pussy along my outstretched tongue. Then she pauses, using two fingers to spread her puffy lips and I get a closeup view of her glossy pink inner folds. I can smell her ultra-feminine fragrance as I hungrily lap at the wetness that's collected there as she runs her fingers through my hair.

I really had meant to explain that I wouldn't be blackmailed any more I thought as I suck and lick at her juicy folds, but once again she'd somehow out-smarted me, made me feel like I didn't really have a choice. She was moaning loudly now, grinding herself against my eager lips, my cheeks feeling sticky, coated with her sweet juices as if I was gorging myself on a slice of melon without using my hands. I couldn't deny that there was something darkly seductive about Madeleine, something about her assertive manner that I found irresistible.

I lap at her patiently, letting her control the pace, her voice rising and falling as I try different things. Soon, she's moaning more urgently, and when I glance up I see she's arching her back exposing the long curve of her pale neck as she sweeps a hand through her thick auburn hair and her chest heaves. I try sucking her lips into my mouth, caressing them with my tongue then licking deep within her folds as she starts teasing her clit with a wet fingertip. I try different techniques, licking her wet entrance then stiffening my tongue and forcing it inside her tight little hole as she moans throatily. Then I'm quickly moving my head from side-to-side, my tongue flicking over her inflamed lips as her cruel fingers tug painfully at my hair.

"Yes, right there, right there," she demands, her voice sounding hoarse and breathless as her fingers tangle in my hair pulling my mouth tight against her as she humps my face and I fight for breath. Her body's tense now, her breath coming in short, staccato gasps as she grinds against me, her body demanding a satisfying conclusion, chasing her release. There's a brief moment of stillness, the calm before the storm, as she presses hard, her muscles straining, her body as taut as a bow string, her breath caught in her throat and then she's there.

"Yes, yes, oh fuck yes!" she squeals happily, her body jerking wildly as she savours the fierce orgasm and I share a little of her elation as she grinds herself against my face, riding the warm waves of pleasure. I lie still, softly kissing her warm thighs as she collapses forward, and I feel her limp body shuddering with little electric pulses of aftershocks.

As she finally eases back,I suck in lungfuls of the moist air as she tenderly uses her fingers to comb my hair from my salty forehead.

I start to sit up hoping that I'll finally get to savour the feel of that lovely wet pussy that I'd been pleasuring, but she places a hand on my chest, gently but firmly pushing me back against the damp sheets.

"Where are you going? I haven't finished with you yet," she says, her lips curling into a playful smile as she rolls off me to one side, repositioning my hands back up over my head. I moan as I feel her fingers tracing lines over the firm muscle of my chest.

My breath catches in my throat as she begins to stroke my neglected cock, and we both watch as it begins to uncurl, straightening and stiffening as she coaxes it to life with her soft fingers. With her free hand, she reaches under a pillow and pulls out a tube of lubricant. She squirts a generous dollop onto the swollen head; it feels cool against the hot flesh and I watch helplessly as she slowly spreads it along my pulsing shaft, massaging it into my turgid prick until the whole shaft glistens wetly. Again she seems content to take her time, stroking me slowly, her fingers sliding all the way up from my balls to my bulbous head, perhaps enjoying the sight of me bound and at her mercy, perhaps just enjoying the feel of my hardness throbbing eagerly beneath the lightest of touches.

I groan, my hips wiggling impatiently as she squeezes the bulbous head, her thumb gently stroking that sensitive spot on the underside as she looks up at me, examining my face. Then she goes back to that steady rhythm that leaves me wanting more as my breathing quickens. I open my mouth then bite my lip; I want to tell her to go faster but I suspect that if I do that, she'll stop completely.

"Got something to say?" she asks as she changes rhythm, just stroking the top inch of my cock now, short little strokes that leave me gasping feverishly, my hands straining against the silk.

I shake my head, not falling into her trap and she rewards me with a grin as she sits up and swings a long leg across my straining thighs.

"Good, because this is all about my pleasure, yes?" she asks rhetorically, as she wriggles into position, my aching cock squeezed between her wet pussy and the lean muscle of my stomach. "You understand that, right?"

My mouth is dry and I can only nod as she plants her hands on my chest, her fingers looking pale and slender against my tanned skin as she slowly begins to move her hips back and forth, her well-lubricated pussy grinding against my cock in a way that makes us both groan as we enjoy the delicious friction between our hot bodies. She looks down at me with those piercing eyes as she begins to gyrate now, slowly massaging my hardness. I moan, my stomach muscles straining, forming hard ridges as I press my prick against her silky wetness.

"Mmm, you're so lovely and hard," she murmurs, leaning forward and running her fingers over my biceps, firmly pressing them into the mattress next to my ears then she cups my chin as she brushes her lips against mine. "Bet you'd like me to fuck you now, huh?"

"Yes," I gasp through dry lips.

"Say it then," she teases and I feel a hot jolt of pleasure as she changes angle, making small movements with her hips so that she's rubbing the top inch of my sensitive prick.

"Please fuck me," I reply. "Please."

She grins as she shifts position and I strain my neck muscles, watching as she places one foot on the duvet, half-kneeling as she positions her glistening pussy just above the tip of my straining cock. I can only watch as she wraps her fingers around my inflamed shaft and slowly eases herself lower, rubbing the blunt tip against her plump lips before impaling herself on me. She is tight and yet very wet and I watch her bite her lip, only partially suppressing a mew of half pain, half pleasure as her soft folds slowly part, enveloping my straining hardness.

"Fuck," she hisses as she eases herself downwards, and I felt her pussy squeezing my sturdy prick, almost painfully tight at first then easing as she moves up and down a little, her juices mixing with the lube as she rocks back and forth, seemingly unsatisfied till she has all of me.

I can only lay back, my breathing becoming hot and raspy, my wrists straining against the tight silk as I savour the grip of her velvety pussy caressing my pulsing hardness, the slight discomfort gradually giving way to the sweetest pleasure. I watch her as she begins to fuck me, her face twisted in pleasure as she takes me a little deeper with each stroke until I'm fully inside her and I'm groaning contentedly as I feel her pussy massaging all of me. I'm so aroused by the sight of her naked body writhing above me, and I feel my cock swell within her tight embrace.

"Fuck, yes," I grunt, as she begins to move a little faster, those gorgeously full breasts swaying rhythmically as she begins to bounce up and down now, our sweaty thighs slapping together. She leans back, cupping one of her boobs then plucking a plump nipple between thumb and forefinger as she fucks me, her skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat now.

"You like that, huh?" she says, a little breathless as she leans forward and slides a hand along my chin, twisting my face till I can't avoid her eyes. "Do you like me fucking you?"

"Yes," I gasp, my voice sounding hoarse as she slides her hand around my neck, squeezing me gently but firmly as she bounces on my straining cock, every delicious stroke drawing me a little closer to release.