Twelve Months Pt. 02

I can't remember when I was last as aroused as this, her teasing has made me desperate for release and if she asks I know I'll beg. She bounces up and down energetically, her increasingly loud moans making it clear she's just as aroused as me.

"Oh fuck, fuck," I whimper. All that teasing has had its effect, and I can already feel the pressure building as I watch her hot naked body writhe.

"Don't cum yet," she says, her voice ragged now, the steely edge of her tone making it clear that this is an order not a request.

I close my eyes and try thinking of other things, the best time to book my car in for a service, the pressing tasks at work tomorrow, but the wet slapping sounds keep bringing me back to the reality of my imminent orgasm and when I open my eyes they're drawn to the junction of our hot bodies where my slick shaft keeps disappearing deep inside Madeleine's silky pussy.

"Yes, yes, fuck yes," she cries her voice tense as she fucks me hard now, her hands firmly pressing against my chest, her eyes squeezed shut as her hips grind harder and harder and I feel a cool sense of relief as I realise she's nearly there, my torment nearly over.

"Oh, oh, oh!" she squeals as she cums, and I feel her muscles tense, her hot body trembling, and she squeezes her eyes shut and pinches her tight nipples hard as she savours her orgasm. The feeling of her tight pussy contracting around my turgid cock is enough to send me over the edge too, and I cry out joyfully as I feel my balls contract, my semen surging along my rock-hard shaft, spilling deep inside her as the long-awaited release of orgasm sweeps through me.

After the fierce heat dies, I feel infused with a lovely warmth that washes away all of the day's stresses.

I feel exhausted, spent, empty. We lie there for several long minutes, Madeleine's limp body pressing me into the mattress as my chest heaves, drawing the humid air into my lungs. Finally she stirs, her lips kissing my neck.

"Good boy," she whispers drowsily, her hot breath tickling my ear and I feel a second rush of pleasure.

--

I saw Madeleine at least once a week throughout July and the start of August. I'd knock on her door after I got home from work, and she'd open it, a knowing smile on her face as she invited me in. Sometimes I'd have a glass of wine, or sometimes just a cool beer. Sometimes I'd take my toolbox, just for show. There was no point in pretending that it was a one-off loss of self-control any more. I was addicted to her and even as I began to ease off the cigarettes, she quickly became my new addiction.

I could no longer kid myself that I wasn't having an affair, although I wouldn't exactly call Madeleine my mistress. Although perhaps she'd quite like to be addressed as 'mistress'.

I'm not sure why I found her domineering manner so irresistible. As she said, perhaps I just like an older, more assertive woman, or perhaps after a long and stressful day at work making any number of difficult decisions, I found a kind of relief in letting her take control, make all the decisions for me, resigning myself to simply following whatever instructions would most please her. Or perhaps it was just that I was enjoying a last fling before settling down to family life.

She'd usually make me eat her out. I say 'make', but of course the truth was that I was only too happy to please her. Sometimes she'd make me kneel on the kitchen floor whilst she perched on a bar stool sipping at her wine, one long leg hooked over my shoulder. Sometimes she'd tie my hands behind my back to make it more of a challenge for me, seemingly amused if I struggled.Sometimes, she'd slide a bare foot along my thighs, examining the hard ridge in my smart work trousers with her toes.

She liked tying me up; sometimes she'd bind my ankles and wrists to the four corners of her bed, leaving me spread-eagled and feeling particularly vulnerable as she stroked my inner thighs and fondled my balls. Sometimes she'd blindfold me so that I had to rely on my other senses to please her. Sometimes, after she was finally satisfied she would make me beg a little before she'd let me cum. It seemed to amuse her to make me beg for release and I quickly learned the sweet torture of a delayed orgasm; the longer she made me wait, the more I had to beg, the greater the release when she finally allowed me to cum.

Our affair was interrupted only by her daughter returning from university. I felt a surge of disappointment when Madeleine told me that I'd have to stop coming around for a while. Libby had been off staying with friends for a few weeks and now she was coming home for a couple of weeks.

It was around that time that Cassie reminded me of my idea of having the neighbours around for a barbecue. To be honest, I hadn't been entirely serious about that, it had just been a way of finding out a little more about Madeleine but now Cassie had mentioned it to the Johnsons and with the warm weekends running out, I promised that we'd organise it.

When we wake up on the Sunday we've agreed with the neighbours, it's cloudy outside and we worry, but around lunchtime the clouds evaporate in the late August sun and although there's a fresh breeze, it's plenty warm enough and I change from jeans to shorts. I fire up the barbecue and watch as neighbours drift in with bottles of wine and home-made salad and six-packs of beer. I'm not as friendly with the neighbours as Cassie (except for Madeleine obviously) so I'm happy to station myself there, chatting to whoever drifts over.

I only know Libby from the photographs in Madeleine's house and in the flesh she looks like a younger version of her mother, although her hair's platinum blonde beneath her cute pink baseball cap. She has the same grey eyes, the same slim nose, the same figure, the same good posture, her step measured as she approaches.

"Hi, you must be Libby," I say, as I flip a burger.

"Yes, thanks for the invite," she replies politely and I note she's also as well-spoken as her mother.

"So your mother tells me that you're off travelling around the south of France for a couple of weeks?" I say, looking up from the grill.

"Well, it's not as glamorous as it sounds," Libby says with a polite smile as she sips from her glass of white wine spritzer. "We're mainly staying in hostels and air bnbs."

"How long are you going for?"

"Oh, a couple of weeks maybe."

"Your mother must miss you being around the house," I say, risking a glance over at Madeleine. I don't want to stare, but I don't want it to look like I'm avoiding her either, it's a difficult balance. As always, she's well-dressed; she's wearing a thin, mainly white floral dress with a knee-length skirt, and a straw hat with a silk ribbon.

"Yeah, I guess. It's just been us since my father left, but I call every week," she says, a little defensively.

"That must have been difficult when you were younger."

"Yeah, I guess, although you don't miss what you never had, if you know what I mean. Mother went off men for quite a while though, I still think she has trouble trusting them. I don't think she's dated anyone in years."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, although I think I've just about convinced her to give internet dating a go."

"Internet dating, I bet you had to give her some help, huh?" I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

"Oh yeah, she's really wary of that kind of thing, I guess it's a generational thing, but I told her you only live once,right?"

"Sure," I said, looking over her shoulder as my wife approached.

"Hey babe," she said, brightly. "Sorry to interrupt, but we're a little short on glasses. If I collect them, would you mind doing a little washing up when you've finished those burgers?"

--

It's pleasantly cool and shady in the kitchen, which is tucked away behind our large dining room and looks out onto the side, towards Madeleine's house. I gulp a large glass of water then start to wash up the glasses that Cassie's placed in the sink. I'm still thinking about what Libby said as I run the tap for a few seconds then start cleaning the glasses as the water starts to run hot.

I hear footsteps on the tiled floor and I assume it's Cassie with more glasses but when I glance over my shoulder, it's Madeleine striding the kitchen on her wedgie sandals.

"Hi," I say, over my shoulder.

"Hello," she replies as she strolls over, her hips swaying, a large gin and tonic in hand.

"I'm just washing up a few glasses," I say needlessly, as I feel her presence just behind me.

"I can see that," she says, placing her glass on the counter. I jump a little as I feel her hand on the back of my thigh. It slides up until I feel it cupping one of my buttocks beneath my baggy navy beach shorts. I think she's going to give me a quick, cheeky squeeze but her hand lingers, possessively examining and caressing the firm roundness of the muscle as I feel her warmth against me, her soft breasts pressed against my back.

"So Libby said you're going to try internet dating," I say, trying to sound casual.

"Yes, she's been helping me out, I'm useless with that kind of thing."

"When were you going to tell me?" I said, sounding more pathetic than I'd intended.

"You're not jealous, are you? Come on, we always knew this was just a bit of fun, right?" she says, her breath warm against my ear as she runs a hand over my t-shirt, sliding smoothly over the lean contours of my chest.

"Yes, but..." I said. "I mean, I thought you'd tell me. We should talk."

"Of course, Libby's off on holiday in a few days, you should come round, I've thought of one or two things you can do for me," she says and I shiver as I feel her lips brushing the skin of my neck above my t-shirt and I smell the delicate floral fragrance of her perfume mixed with a hint of suntan lotion.

"Come on, don't," I hiss as she presses tight up against me. I want to turn around and push her away but she's pressed up tight against me now and anyway it wouldn't look great if someone saw her with big, wet handprints on her thin dress.

"Come on, live a little dangerously," she says seductively, and I wonder how many drinks she's had as she slides a wicked hand into the pocket of my shorts. She's normally so in control,I wouldn't expect her to be so brazen when Cassie's only yards away in the garden.

"Come on, stop! Someone could come!" I hiss quietly, wriggling awkwardly although despite my harsh tone I can't help reacting, feeling my cock stir as her fingers explore me through the thin cotton of my pocket lining.

"Well, I guess that's the idea," she chuckles throatily.

"Please,"I gasp, my throat dry, trying to concentrate on my glass-washing duties as her hands linger, examining my growing hardness, only stopping when we hear footsteps approaching. Madeleine steps away just in time, leaning back against the counter and casually swilling her drink, the ice cubes clinking as Cassie enters.

"Hey, I found some more," my wife said as she entered, flashing a tight smile at Madeleine. I wonder if she suspects us. I've told her the red marks on my neck were insect bites but I'm not entirely sure she's convinced.

"Fine, put them in the sink," I say, quickly glancing over my shoulder and hoping I don't appear too flushed.

"I thought I'd come and see if he needed a hand, but looks like he's got it under control," Madeleine explained, looking back and giving me the briefest of winks as she follows Cassie back out towards the garden.

Later that night, long after everyone's gone home, I drift out into the back garden. I'm not at all surprised to see Madeleine's bedroom light up. I can only watch as she performs a little striptease for me at her window, slowly slipping out of her floral sundress revealing a flimsy pair of panties and a lacy half-cup bra clinging to her curvy body. I hold my breath, anxiously glancing back at my house as she slowly slips off her bra, caressing her full breasts, taking her time. She must know she's driving me crazy, I think as I press myself against the fence. She closes her eyes as she slides a hand between her thighs, stroking herself through her panties as I watch from the shadows sucking in the warm cigarette smoke, my hand gripping the fence till my knuckles whiten.