My cunt had
become the very centre of my being, my existence. My naked body, my
temple, not desecrated as I'd thought, but worshipped. A temple of
sexual fulfilment. Once given in the name of love, I now gave in
the name of lust. I needed a penis, a penis throbbing in orgasm
within my ravenous cunt. I'd had my fix; I now needed unemotional,
crude sex.
As my orgasm
erupted, I half hoped that Tony would appear at the backdoor and
gaze in horror at his so-called loving wife. I wanted him to see
the pure sexual ecstasy depicted in my expression as I
finger-fucked my cunt, massaged my pulsating clitoris and cried out
in my depravity. In my rising wickedness, I wanted him to discover
me with my tongue deep inside Lydia's hot cunt, and hers
tongue-fucking my juiced cunt. I wanted to shock him.
"God!" I
gasped as the magical sensations rode on, my body shaking
violently, my burning cunt spasming, pouring out the juices of my
perverse lust. "God I need sex!"
"I can see
that!" In the haze of my shuddering orgasm, I vaguely recognized
the male voice. "Christ, you're a horny little bitch!"
"Alan!" I
gasped, my climax quickly slipping away as he walked across the
lawn and stood towering over my naked body, gazing at my sex-wet
cunt - the evidence of my masturbating dripping from my sticky
fingers.
"How about
letting me give you a hand?" he grinned, kneeling beside me as I
sat up, crossing my legs and folding my arms to conceal my pert
breasts. "Or a cock!"
"No, get out
of here!" I screamed. "Get out of my bloody life and stay out!"
"Oh, well, if
you're going to be like that... when's your husband due home?"
"Unless you
leave now, I'll..."
"OK, OK! But
I'll be back!" he grinned. His blue eyes reflected blackmail, evil.
"I'll be back, Helen - you can be sure of that!"
Watching him
walk around the side of the house, I burst into tears.
Uninterrupted masturbation? My life was continually interrupted!
Why wouldn't people leave me alone? Interfering, meddling, prying,
stealing, blackmailing... didn't they have their own lives to get
on with? What was the fascination with other people's lives? Nosey
bastards!
Leaping to my
feet, I dashed around the side of the house and locked the gate -
locked out the world. Tears streaming down my face as I entered the
kitchen, I held my head as the phone started ringing again. I just
wanted to be left alone. Was there no peace? No, not for the
wicked.
"Now what?" I
breathed wiping my eyes as I grabbed the receiver.
"Are you OK?" Tony asked. "What do you mean,
now what
?"
"Oh, Tony,
I... I thought you were coming home? Where are you?"
"Still in
Paris, I couldn't get away."
"Oh,
good."
"Good?"
"Yes, good. I
don't want you jeopardising your promotion by coming home to see if
I'm all right."
"
Are
you all
right?"
"How many
times do I have to tell you that I'm fine?"
"I'm sorry,
Helen, but you seem different."
"Yes, so you
said yesterday."
"What have you
been up to?"
"Working, Tony. Or, I should say,
trying
to work!"
"You must be
lonely?"
"Hardly!"
"What do you
mean?"
"Tony, I've
been thinking, thinking about us."
"I knew there
was something wrong!"
"You don't
know anything."
"I know you
better than you know yourself, Helen!"
"Do you? Well,
see if you knew this. I've shaved my cunt."
"What?"
"I said, I've
shaved my cunt."
He was silent
- stunned, no doubt. Why I'd said it, I didn't know, but in a way I
was pleased that I'd told him. It was a weight off my mind. I
didn't want weights on my mind, I had too many weights. I'd remove
them one at a time; work on each one until I was free. Free of
what? Free of myself?
"You've shaved
your..."
"Yes, Tony,
I've shaved my cunt."
"Why are you
talking like that?"
"Like
what?"
"Using that
awful word."
"Cunt? Well,
that's what it is, isn't it?"
"Well, yes,
but... something has happened, hasn't it?"
"Tony, you're
becoming incredibly boring!"
"You don't
want me anymore, do you?"
"You make me
want to cry, Tony."
"Why?"
"I don't know
why. Don't keep phoning me."
Hanging up, I
went into my studio and flopped onto the Chesterfield, wondering
why I'd said that to Tony. The phone rang again and I ignored it.
My prerogative, my wont. Now I'd gone and upset Tony, caused him
untold anxiety. He'd done nothing wrong, so why was I being nasty
to him? I felt nastiness. At least he was still in Paris, which was
something. The phone stopped ringing.
Evaluating the
situation, I toyed with my erect clitoris, revelling in the
beautiful sensations as she pulsated in response to my intimate
caresses. I'd had my fix, so I'd be free of the dreadful symptoms
for a couple of days. Gary had a few days off work, but what would
I do if he wasn't around when I needed him, his cock - his sperm? I
didn't want to see him again. Another bridge to be crossed.
Alan Walker,
yet another bloody bridge. He hadn't given up, but why should I
worry about him? His only threat was to show Tony the pictures and
I really didn't care whether he revealed my behaviour at that party
or not. I was drunk, and they'd taken advantage of me, it was as
simple as that. The past, dead and gone.
Problems. God,
why all these problems? I wondered. But they needn't be problems. I
was beginning to realize the power of my cunt, the pulling power.
It was to my advantage to use that power, I decided. Rather than
allow people to use me, to cause me problems, to blackmail me, I'd
be better off turning the tables and blackmailing others.
The notion
pleased me, sent a quiver up my spine as I imagined threatening
Alan. But what with? Empty threats, I had nothing on him. I'd offer
him perverted sex in return for the photographs. But there'd
obviously be more copies, and the crude sex would never end.
Perpetual perverted sex. If he was married, I could threaten to go
to his wife with my tales of adultery.
Moving my wet
fingers away from my rubicund sex crack, I decided that the time
had come to get back into my work. The blackmailers could all go to
hell as far as I was concerned. If I decided that I didn't want
Tony, there'd be no blackmail. But I'd see to it that the bastards
would pay for their threats. Get something on Gary and threaten to
destroy him, and Alan and David.
I answered the
front door naked. I should have slipped into my smock, but I
decided against it. In my wickedness, I was out to shock. Besides,
nudity is no cause for shame. Gary was standing on the step, an
evil glint in his eyes, a grin furling his lips. What did he want,
sex? Yes, obviously!
"I'm busy," I
snapped.
"I just
thought I'd come and say hallo," he said, scrutinizing my naked
body. Was his penis stiffening?
"Well, you've
said hallo, and I must say goodbye."
"What's the
matter, Helen?"
"Nothing's the
matter, I'm busy, that's all."
"I've been
thinking," he said pensively, reaching out and squeezing my nipple.
"This addiction of yours..."
"I don't want
to talk about it, Gary," I returned, pushing his hand away from my
breast. "And I don't want you coming here."
"You don't
want this, you don't want that. The thing is, when you need sperm
you'll come running to me, and when I want sex I'll come running to
you. That's why I'm here, Helen - I want sex."
I couldn't
rile Gary, my supplier, but I wasn't going to be at his beck and
call, open my legs at the drop of his trousers. I searched for a
lie, and came up with what I thought to be a good one.
"Tony's due
home this afternoon, so I won't be needing you again, Gary."
"When he goes
on his next..."
"There won't
be any more trips. He rang earlier; he's to be based in
London."
"You'll be OK
for sperm, then?"
"I... yes, I
will."
"What about
that young man on the common? I don't think Tony will be too
pleased to hear that you..."
"You have no
proof, Gary, so don't start threatening me."
"There's
David, too. From what he told me, you behaved pretty..."
"You can't
prove that, either. And David's hardly likely to tell Tony about
it."
I'd got him;
he had nothing on me, no proof - nothing. I was in control, at last
- I called the shots. He wouldn't deny me sperm when I needed it.
What normal red-blooded man would say no to an attractive young
woman offering her mouth for sex? I smiled a salacious smile as I
gazed into his eyes. His expression was pained; he knew he'd lost,
so what would he do now?
"It would be
nice if you invited me in for coffee," he said, his voice softer in
his defeat.
"Yes, why
not?" I smiled, opening the door wider. It was best not to cut off
my options. "We might as well remain friends. Just because I don't
need you for..."
"Do you
normally walk around naked?"
"Yes, when I'm
working."
"It could have
been anyone at the door, don't you mind..."
"It's my body,
Gary, and if I decide to walk around naked, then I will."
I felt good as
he stepped into the hall. Closing the door, I led him into the
lounge, wondering whether to allow him to fuck me or not. My cunt
was juicing, tightening at the prospect of his penis penetrating
me. I might allow him to tongue me to orgasm, and then leave him
desperate to come. Yes, sexually torture him, tease and tantalise
him until he begged for my mouth, for my cunt.
I was feeling
happier with my addiction, my new-found sexuality. I was all woman,
and I'd have men begging at my feet for the pleasures of my naked
body, worshipping my female temple. Perhaps Tony would like the new
me? The slut, the whore who'd do anything and everything in her
quest for sexual debauchery. But no, I had to differentiate between
Helen and Suzie. I couldn't allow the two to interfere with each
other. Suzie was back, and no one was going to take her away.
As I sat on
the sofa with my thighs parted just enough to display my protruding
inner lips, Gary stood before me, admiring my nakedness, his
trousers bulging in his obvious arousal. Yes, I'd allow him to lick
me to orgasm, and then tell him to leave. I didn't need his sperm.
He'd go home and masturbate in his big lonely house, picture my
shaved cunt as he wanked and spunked.
"It's funny,"
he began, joining me on the sofa. "You're the last person in the
world I'd have thought would be into sex the way you are. I mean,
you have a lovely home, a good husband, and yet..."
"My addiction
drove me to do the things I did, Gary."
"Yes, but...
you enjoyed the cane, didn't you? That had nothing to do with your
addiction."
"I had to
endure your vileness in order to get your sperm. I didn't enjoy it
at all."
"You liked me
spunking up your arsehole, didn't you?"
I didn't ever
want to hear that awful word again. "No, I did not!" I returned
assertively. "That was the first and the last time. I'll never
degrade myself like that again."
"You will,
Helen. There'll come a time when you'll be so desperate for sperm
that you'll do anything."
"If I find
myself without Tony and I need sperm, it won't be a problem because
I now have someone else to supply me." He frowned, obviously
wondering whether I was bluffing. "Of course, if you're really
lucky, I might call round to see you - on my terms and conditions,
of course."
"Terms and
conditions?"
"No caning, no
anal sex, no..."
"No
sperm."
"This
conversation is futile, Gary. I have Tony and another man to supply
me, so let's not discuss it anymore."
It suddenly
occurred to me that Gary might have wandered into my house and
taken the photographs and my erotic painting. It was odd that I'd
not thought of it before. Having discovered my addiction, he might
well have come over to the house to confront me and discovered the
back door open. He was probably holding back, waiting for the right
moment to use his trump card.
If it wasn't
Gary, then it was strange that the thief hadn't made contact and
threatened to expose me. I imagined that it was Gary. It was time
to play my trump card, have Gary lick me to orgasm and then leave
him desperate to come. Wicked in my wickedness!
"Why don't you
kneel on the floor between my legs?" I asked, my voice husky, sexy.
I parted my thighs wide, offering him my beautiful cunt.
"You need
sperm?" he grinned, slipping off the sofa and settling between my
feet.
"I need to
come."
"I want your
arsehole, Helen."
"You'll lick
me to orgasm, Gary."
"And
then..."
"We'll
see."
Closing my
eyes, I moved down, my buttocks over the edge of the cushion, my
thighs wide. Peeling my vaginal lips apart, exposing my inner sex
flesh, my ripening clitoris, I delighted in my obscenity. He began
his licking, his wet tongue sweeping up my gaping sex valley,
stiffening my clitoris, inducing my cunt milk to flow. His penis
would be solid now, expectant in its erectness, yearning for my
mouth, my tight vagina. He'd soon be desperate for the relief of
orgasm, desperate to spunk - but I'd do nothing.
My climax was
fast approaching, welling up from the depths of my pelvis. Arching
my back, my firm breasts heaving, I began my gasping. There was
something about adultery that intrigued me, fascinated me. The
marital home, the lounge, the sofa... my legs wide open, my shaved
cunt licked by a man, not by my trusting husband.