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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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I looked at the woman leaning against the wall carefully. She reminded me of someone I'd known at one time. She had the same mouth, the same eyes, and the same open smile, but there the resemblance ended. This woman was much slimmer than Sophie had been, her hair was shorter and far less elegantly styled and she didn't carry herself in the same upright, self confident manner. Even so, the similarity was amazing, and I couldn't help but stand and stare. Then, as if conscious that someone was watching her, she looked up and her eyes met mine.
"Dermot? It is Dermot, isn't it?"
So it was Sophie, and obviously I'd changed as much as she in the last four years.
"Good God, Sophie! Talk about a blast from the past. How are you doing?"
"Surviving, Dermot, as much as anybody else." She glanced at her watch. "It would be nice to talk to you but I'm busy right now, are you around for a day or two?"
She didn't look busy leaning on a wall, but what did I know? "Yes, I'm in town until Thursday, and it would be nice to talk to you too. Can we meet?"
"I'd like that. Tomorrow, say about eight?"
"Fine, but you'll have to say where because I don't know my way around yet."
"Tell me where you're staying and I'll come to you. Oh, and don't worry about Luke, we're not together anymore." She smiled briefly in remembrance of our past.
I gave her the name of my hotel and offered up silent thanks that Luke wasn't going to be after my skin in the way he was the last time Sophie and I met, then I went to my appointment and put her to the back of my mind for a while.
That night as I lay in my hotel bed, I couldn't stop thinking about the Sophie I'd once known. She and I had been lovers, our affair starting on the night before she married Luke and lasting the best part of three years. It began when we shared a 'knee trembler' in an alley behind the club where she was holding her hen party, with one of her friends keeping lookout while she enjoyed her last shag as a free woman. We had fucked up against a wall with her skirt rucked up and her knickers around her ankle, and with her 'lookout' watching shamelessly. Afterwards she handed me her knickers and told me to keep them as a momento -- I still have them. She wanted, she said, to feel my cum trickling down her legs while she danced. I discovered later that that sort of gesture was par for the course with her; she had a very open and individual attitude to sex.
It was about a couple of months later that we met again as I wasted an afternoon idling around the shops. To be honest I'd almost forgotten about her, until a voice behind me asked 'Have you still got them?' and I looked around to find her there, smiling broadly. It took a moment for memory to kick in, I mean, the last time I'd seen her she had been dressed in a rah-rah skirt and a T-shirt with the logo 'I'm still a virgin, but this is an old shirt' blazoned across the front. Now here she was dressed in a light blue business suit over a tailored white blouse and carrying a briefcase, but then I remembered her and I grinned back.
"Yes, as matter of fact I have. And any further contributions you care to make would be gratefully received."
She laughed, a light tinkling laugh showing no embarrassment or offence at my remark. "I have a business meeting to attend and I don't think a 'Sharon Stone' moment would be appreciated, do you?"
"Damn!" I pretended devastation and she laughed again, before raising her hand in goodbye and going on her way.
I expected that to be that, but about fifteen minutes later she came back down the street with a face like thunder.
"That was a short meeting." I said as she got near.
"Cancelled!" She barked the word at me as if it were my fault. "And the ignorant bastards didn't even have the decency to let me know."
"Then let me buy you a coffee and give you chance to cool off, or do you need to get home?"
"There's nobody at home and I'm not sure he'd notice if he was."
"Oh." I said and left it at that, domestic disputes are not my thing.
She calmed down pretty quickly and then we spent nearly two hours sitting, drinking coffee and chatting. I think the waitress thought we were testing out their 'buy one coffee and get free refill's' policy, judging by the dirty look we got each time she came around, but in truth the reason was simply that she was so easy to talk to and so straightforward. There were no airs and graces, no pretence, and no hidden agendas. What you saw was what you got with Sophie. I must also say that what I saw, and got, was pretty spectacular. She was a woman in her absolute prime, mid twenties, tall, well built, auburn haired and with the most glorious breasts it has ever been my pleasure to lose my cock between.
Sophie ran a small recruitment and temps agency that supplied local factories with short term staff, while her husband, Luke, owned a crane hire business. They were not yet wealthy, but certainly working towards it, enjoying a secure and prosperous lifestyle. I tell you this because it is relevant to the story. The only problem inherent in their way of life was that they were often like ships that passed in the night and communication was not good. Her hours were, to put it mildly, flexible, and she was often out and about visiting clients and setting up meetings, while Luke would regularly drive a crane himself if the job was particularly tricky, and could be away for days on end. Combine that with his 'missionary position in the dark' approach to sex and her very high and adventurous sex drive, and it was almost inevitable that she would stray. And stray she did, with me as the lucky recipient.
Now, I must admit that I was a bit wary of starting anything with Sophie. Luke was a big man, ex-army, short tempered and aggressive, and with a habit of solving problems with his fists, and I'm a dyed in the wool coward. But Sophie was a real beauty, with an easy laugh, a happy outlook, and a very frustrated libido. She needed someone in bed with an open attitude and an adventurous streak, and a willingness to satisfy her in whichever way she needed. I'm glad to say she saw that person in me and made it plain that she was available.
With the donated knickers as a starting point, our coffee shop chat soon began to take on overt sexual overtones, with innuendo and double meanings littering our conversation. We both began to feel randy and a repeat of our first encounter became more and more likely. Eventually we agreed to meet again the following day, this time at a motel just outside of town, and we both knew it was not just for coffee.
No sooner had we closed the room door behind us than we were in each other's arms and kissing passionately, but then she wriggled free and held me at arms length.
"Dermot, hold it a minute, we need to set some rules, and as I'm the one who's married and has the most to lose, I'm gonna set them."
I couldn't fault the logic, so I stood quiet and listened.
"Firstly, you must never contact me unless it is prearranged. Secondly, you have absolutely no rights over me whatever. Thirdly and most importantly, we will fuck my way, and you'd better be a damn good shag, because you and I are here together only because Luke doesn't do it for me. If I'm going to stay with him I need extras, and you're it. To put it in a nutshell, I'm going to use you as my animated dildo, and if you can't handle that, well - tough."
I looked at her in absolute amazement, but at least I couldn't say I didn't know where I stood. Strange as it may sound, that's the way it worked. She always rang me to say that she'd be free on such and such a day, and we'd get together. Sometimes it would be almost every day, and sometimes two or three weeks would go by between her calls.
Then, when we did meet, it was Sophie who called the shots, arranging where we would meet, telling me what she fancied doing, and even sometimes how we would do it. But the gaps between meetings were down to her fear of being caught, not because she waited until she felt horny then called on me to sort her out. And, even though she set the agenda, that was usually because she was plain fucking kinky and had a much wilder imagination that I would ever have. She was naturally an assertive person, but in actual fact she could also be slightly submissive sometimes, and even enjoyed being spanked and tied up.
In short, our relationship was based on pure lust and, although she never quite used me as the 'animated dildo' she spoke of, I was there just to provide the satisfaction she wasn't getting at home and she made sure I knew it. Romance never, ever intruded into our liaisons, and I didn't care. As far as I was concerned, here was a beautiful woman who wanted me to fuck her with no strings, and I was quite happy with that arrangement. The only thing that I wasn't happy about was that she would deride Luke's bedroom abilities to me, and I felt that was unnecessary. She was with Luke purely for his money and the lifestyle he gave her, and she made no secret of that to me either.
That first motel meeting was one of plain uninhibited sex. We fucked almost continuously, in her case cumming over and over again and in my case three times, and in just about every position that we could reasonably get into. It was wild, abandoned, and bloody good. Obviously Sophie thought so too, because she arranged a second date on the spot, this time in the open air in some nature reserve woodland about fifteen miles away.
We arrived at the rendezvous almost together and immediately she walked off into the woods, beckoning me to follow. She knew exactly where she was headed, and about ten minutes later she turned off the path and through the trees until we came to a clearing about two hundred yards further into the woods. There she unrolled her blanket, lay it on the ground and began to undress. I never did find out why she chose that spot, or even if it held any significance for her.
There was something very surreal about watching a beautiful woman taking off expensive business clothes, neatly folding them and laying them carefully to one side, before disporting herself totally naked on a blanket in the middle of a forest. I just stood and watched until she was lying with her legs wide, showing me a smoothly shaved pussy and gently playing with herself.
"C'mon Dermot. Don't let me do everything on my own."
Fat chance of that, I thought as I abruptly came to life and began rapidly stripping off my own clothing. It isn't easy, fumbling with buttons while your eyes are being constantly drawn to the naked beauty waiting for you and to fingers that kept disappearing into a hot wet pussy, but eventually I made it and went to lie on top of her.
"No, Dermot, not yet."
I wished she'd make up her mind, but I obediently stood and waited for her to tell me what she wanted.
"I want you to wank over me. I want to feel your cum splattering all over my body."
The idea must have been a real turn on for her, because just vocalising it sent a shiver of anticipation through her and her fingers pumped in and out of her pussy a little more forcefully. For myself I thought it was a waste of cum, but who was I to argue?
She wriggled round a little and swung one leg around me so that I was standing between her knees and looking directly at her pussy. It was beautiful sight, her fingers were working hard and fast in her pussy and her hips were gyrating slowly, making a picture of absolute lust. She was very, very horny, so wet that I could even hear a soft squelching noise as her fingers went in and out of her tunnel, and her labia were visibly red and swollen. My hand went to my cock and I began wanking above her.
All the time I stood there playing her eyes were fixed on my cock, although occasionally her arousal made then roll back and close for a few seconds and even then they would shoot open again and keep watch for the first signs that I was going to cum. I found the whole thing just a little disturbing, I'd never been watched with such intensity, but even so it was incredibly erotic and it wasn't long before I could feel my cum begin to build up in my balls ready for my climax.
"Are you going to cum soon?" She asked me when I started breathing heavily and stroking my cock more erratically.
I nodded my 'yes' with my eyes half closed and my tongue running around my lips, and she immediately switched playing to with her clit so as to leave her entrance uncovered and began pulling at her nipple with her other hand. Sophie had large soft breasts and she could pull them into incredible shapes by tugging on her nipples, and it never failed to turn me on even more. Now my pelvis began involuntary little thrusts and the fire began to flare at the base of my cock.
"Do it, Dermot, shoot it all over me. Try and get some on my face if you can. I really want to feel it landing on me."
The moment I came, so did she, giving out loud gasps and groans as she shuddered in orgasm under the rain of spunk splashing down on her. My first burst landed across her breasts, covering one nipple and trickling between them, but my second was more powerful, landing mostly on her neck and chin but also spattering her face with creamy white drops. She groaned loudly, opening her mouth to catch more and rubbing frantically at her clit to get the most from her climax.
After a second powerful pulse that coated her lips and nose, my spurts of cum declined, landing closer and closer to me until the last one just dribbled onto the knuckles of the hand working at her clit. The result was that the entire length of her body, from forehead to crotch had been showered in spunk, with little globs and droplets all over her.
I stood for a minute or so on jelly legs before subsiding, lungs heaving and heart racing, onto the blanket beside her. She looked across at me and squeezed my hand, her own chest rising and falling rapidly under its load of cum.
"Thank you. Believe it or not that's the first time I've ever watched a man cum. I've often felt it, but I'd never seen it."
We lay there silently for a minute or two, Sophie on her back and me on my side gazing at the shiny wet results of my labours, and then she spoke again.
"Do you know, it does feel good to have your cum on my skin." She smiled happily. "Now, just lie flat for a minute."
I lay myself out flat, legs side by side and arms by the side of me and waited to see what she had in mind. I didn't have to wait long. As soon as I was settled she rolled over and lay flat on top of me, carefully aligning her legs with mine and her body in full contact all the way along. Then she began sliding herself back and forth, using the slippery dollops of my cum as a lubricant and spreading it between us. She was giving out little unintelligible murmurs of pleasure as she slithered along my torso, and I can understand why, the feeling was like oiled skin, except that it wasn't oil and that knowledge made it intensely erotic.
Then she kissed me and I could faintly taste my own cum as her tongue explored my mouth. It was such an incredibly uninhibited and sexy sensation that even though I had climaxed only minutes before I began to feel my cock stir between us. I think Sophie had noticed its revival too, because as soon the slipperiness began to turn to stickiness she wriggled her way right down my body until her head was level with my cock. Then she took my semi hard shaft between her fingers and guided it into her mouth, licking and sucking at it until it hardened once more, then as soon as it was stiff enough to stand by itself, she took the head deep into her mouth and started sliding her lips back and forwards along my shaft in the most gorgeous blow-job I've ever had.
After that we met quite frequently, though at varying intervals, and sometimes it would be in the woods, sometimes in a motel, and, when Luke was out of town, sometimes she would come to my place. But, with maybe a handful of exceptions, every meeting was an adventure, and I never knew what she would come up with next. She was the most imaginative and unconstrained woman I have ever met, a mass of contradictions and fantasies, and she had me fascinated with her almost to the point of obsession. It got to where there was almost nothing I wouldn't do for her or to her -- sexually, I mean -- or allow her to do to me.
Sometimes my conscience would prick and I would ask about Luke, but she was always scathing about his bedroom abilities and it got so I didn't like to ask anymore. It soon became clear to me that although she liked the man she didn't really love him, and that she was with him for the just lifestyle he could offer her. She had worked it to get the best of both worlds. Luke provided the standard of living and the comfort, while I supplied the sex and gratification. Both he and I were being used. The only real difference, apart from him being her husband, was that he was kept in the dark while I knew just what was happening and selfishly didn't care. But then, if I describe just two of my meetings with Sophie you'll probably understand why.
Both took place at my house during one of Luke's out of town jobs, and on both occasions Sophie turned up only a half hour or so after having rung me to arrange things. The first time it seemed that I had hardly put the 'phone down and tidied away the ironing (Yes, single men have to do their own ironing, and it's not the most romantic sight to greet your lover with.) before she was knocking on my door with a shopping bag swinging from her wrist.
I should have realised she had something new in mind the moment I saw the shopping bag, but it wasn't until she dug into it and pulled out a pair of handcuffs that I began to worry. Within ten minutes I was stark naked and sitting on the bed with my hands behind my back and my wrists handcuffed to the bed-head, while Sophie was still fully dressed. I must admit I was a little nervous at that point, because with Sophie almost anything was possible.
But then she began to undress. She had dressed with the deliberate intention of stripping it all off again, right down to having a thong on under her knickers just to increase the tease. She put a cd on the stereo and started to move to and fro to soft slow jazz music, letting her long auburn hair sweep across her face as she moved. The movement was all in the hips, a beautiful languid swaying with her arms floating beside her, so very feminine and so very erotic.
She kept this up for the entire first track, but then the second track was a late night jazz saxophone, and it was to this music she began to strip. Once again her movements were slow and gentle and in time with the music, but there was now a definite sexiness to them, invoked perhaps by the sensuous sound of the saxophone, and they had my cock standing up and applauding - and that was even before she began unbuttoning her blouse.
The rest of the album was similar 'midnight music' recalling smoky clubs and sexy black musicians, and Sophie stripped gradually moving sinuously and sexily the whole time. By the time she was down to that final thong my cock was sporting a purple head as hard and as bulbous as it ever had been. God, how I wanted to fuck that woman.
Then, the moment she was totally naked she went and changed the album, replacing the slow jazz with slightly faster, slightly heavier music, again featuring the tenor sax, but now it wailed more raunchily over an insistent drum beat. I hadn't heard this music before and I had no idea who the artists were, but right then I would willingly have awarded them a trophy for the sexiest sound ever recorded. Even if I'd been back to doing my ironing I think my cock would have been reaching for the sky by the time the first ten bars had played. Sophie clearly knew just what she was up to, and I was mesmerised.
As this second cd played Sophie began to dance, but it was no dance I'd ever seen before, and would have brought the house down in the local strip joint. She swayed, gyrated, turned, and contorted, turning her body into an overt representation of sex, running her palms over her skin, cupping her breasts, squeezing them, pulling at her nipples, the letting her hands slide down her stomach, past her beckoning hips to her thighs where they played and stroked before they retreated up to her pussy and outlined her womanhood between her fingers. All this was done in sensual slow motion as she stared up at me from below lowered eyes, running the tip of her tongue over her lips. I became intensely aware of the limitations placed upon me by the handcuffs. All I could do was watch this fabulous creature perform to her erotic best. I wondered how far she would go before her own need drove her to release me to fuck her.
Then suddenly she had jumped up onto the bed, straddling me and moving forward until her feet were planted wide beside my shoulders, her hands rested against the wall behind the bed and she gazed down smiling as my eyes stared at her pussy literally inches from my face. Then she began gyrating her hips in time to the music, thrusting slightly forward and back, bringing the fabulous musky scent of her scent of her cunt close to my nose and then moving back, letting my eyes take over the enjoyment as she moved now from side to side. She was completely given to her arousal, her gaping pussy quite literally running with her juices, her inner thighs shining damp and slippery and her clit standing hard and erect like a miniature cock. I couldn't take my eyes from her.
"Lick me, lick my cunt." Her voice came intense and breathy.
I leaned forward, putting out my tongue to comply with her instruction, only to be brought up short by the handcuffs with my mouth only an inch or so from her pussy. Her teasing laugh registered only vaguely as I tried to push forward far enough to make contact. I so wanted to taste her I was straining my neck to reach and hurting my wrists on the handcuffs. She giggled again and moved away.
"You'll have to grow a longer tongue." She mocked me and then moved closer again. "Here, have another try."
This time I could reach, not easily and not entirely, but enough that I could lick and suck her clit with my nose hard up against her pubes. Sophie gasped as soon as my tongue touched her and I knew she was very aroused, but apparently not ready to let herself cum, for after only a few moments she moved back and out of reach.
"Did it taste nice?" She asked me. I could only nod a 'yes'.
"Then tell me if it looks nice."
She spread her thighs as wide as standing on the springy bed would allow, then reaching down with both hands, she pulled open her pussy, showing me her gaping wet hole. I stared openly at this brazen display, wishing my tongue was back on that hard little clit, or my cock inside her slippery hot cunt, and thinking for an alarming moment, from the way she was splayed open, that she was going to pee on me. For some reason it wasn't the thought of being peed on that bothered me, that was actually quite exciting, but the idea of having to sort out my bed afterwards.
She was having trouble keeping her balance on the bed and so she moved to lean on the wall above my head with one hand and used the other to show herself to me, opening herself up with two fingers while using a third to massage the end of her clit. I was not going to be needed, except as an audience, for she was gasping and groaning, teetering on the brink of her orgasm. She was not alone in being turned on, my cock was beginning to hurt with its hardness, desperately needed attention and jealous of the finger that played with her clit.
Suddenly she let out a sudden 'oohh' and her pussy jerked under her fingers, and I watched her cum, seeing the spasms running through her pelvis, hearing the cries and groans that came from her lips and watching the lubrication trickle from her empty passage. I was so turned on by this display that a bead of pre-cum grew on the end of my cock, even though it was still totally untouched.
Her first orgasm over, Sophie looked down at me and grinned. "Nice, was it?"
"Not as nice as it would have been with my cock inside you!" I replied morosely, thinking that my chance of cumming was rapidly receding.
She laughed again, that carefree tinkling laugh that she used so often. "Don't worry, your turn next. Anyway, stop complaining, you fuck me more often than my husband."
She took a step back and knelt down carefully, still straddling my body, so that her pussy was lowered towards my belly. I hoped she would move back a little further so that she might impale herself on my painfully rigid cock, but instead she pressed herself against my abdomen and began sliding herself back and forth, spreading her juices over my skin. It felt fabulous, but I wanted more.
She leaned forward so that now she was bent over me, her dark engorged nipples dragging over my face as she moved back and forth. I tried to take one in my mouth, but she giggled and swung her breasts to keep it out of reach, still sliding her wet pussy over my stomach.
Then she slid back a little further and her bottom collided with my the tip of my cock and she stopped, suddenly alarmed at the contact.
"Are you ok?" She asked me.
"Yes, fine, except I want to fuck you."
She laughed again. "I thought that might have hurt." She said, meaning the sudden contact between my cock and her behind.
"No, it didn't hurt."
"Then lets do it again; you never know it might find a way in." She started sliding slowly back, trying to find out just where my cock came to.
"And you never know which way in it might find." Her voice was breathless with excitement.
She pushed back until she hit my cock, and then pulled forward again, repeating the movement time after time, but without my entering her in either hole. I couldn't do anything to help it find the way, and it seems that Sophie wouldn't, though I got the impression it was not missing one entrance or the other by very much. Each time she moved her breasts trailed across my face and chest, and each time I felt her skin slide over her own wetness on my stomach, and I desperately needed to fuck her. It was intensely erotic and even more intensely frustrating.
Then suddenly I felt it slide into her pussy, deep into her very hot and very wet tunnel and she groaned with pleasure coupled with frustration.
"Damn, I wanted it to be the other hole!" Sophie cursed, but I didn't mind, I was just pleased to be inside her.
"You can move it, if you want." I suggested, thinking how nice her arse would feel.
"No. Fate decreed and all that, I'll take what I was given." She shook her head, her hair cascading across her face, and she began moving on my cock, fucking me at last.
She must have been as hot as I was, for she rapidly built up the pace until she was bouncing on my cock, gasping and moaning, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. It wasn't long before she rammed herself down onto me as hard as she could and cried out loud as her orgasm ripped through her, but it was just long enough. Even as she squirmed, impaled on my shaft and shuddering with pleasure, my cock exploded into her as my own climax arrived and sent spurt after spurt of cum deep into her. God, I was ready for that.
The next day she rang to ask if she could come round the next afternoon, and you can guess my answer. She arrived just after lunch, swinging that ominous shopping back once again.
"What surprise have you got in the bag today?" I asked cautiously.
"No surprise, just the same things."
Her answer was cloaked in laughter as she put her hand in her bag and took out the same damn handcuffs. I wasn't sure if I was up to another teasing session, and I said so.
"You worry too much, let's go upstairs and have a bit of fun, eh?" Her answer was as enigmatic and unhelpful as it could be, but I followed anyway.
As soon as she reached the bedroom she began to undress, and so I did the same, still wondering just what she had in mind this time. Whatever it was, it was already turning her on, because as she stripped her breathing became heavy with anticipation and her fingers fumbled with her bra fastenings. I couldn't remember ever having seen her being this excited, and so I worried even more.
When we were finally both naked she handed the handcuffs to me, much to my surprise. I stood there with them in my hands and wondered what the hell to do. Then she held her hands out in front of her, wrists together, and I got the idea. This time, it seemed, it was her turn to be cuffed.
"Thank you." She breathed as I locked them over her wrists.
"I think I was a bit too naughty the last time I was here, and I think I deserve to be punished, don't you?"
Now what the hell was she thinking of, I wondered silently, while agreeing with her out loud.
"Yes, you do. Have you a punishment in mind?" I would have given odds that she had.
She looked at me and nodded, then raised her hands and put them behind her head, still fastened together, then planted her feet a couple of feet apart. She looked beautiful and defiant standing like that, but quite defenceless too.
"I want you to slap my tits, hard."
"What?" I was shocked to say the least.
"I want you to hit my breasts, I want you to slap them both, and don't hold back." Her breathing was now loud and eager and it was clear she meant what she said.
I stood looking at her, wondering for a minute if I should, or even if I could.
"Do it, I was naughty, punish me." It was typical of Sophie. Even when playing the 'sub' she had to give the orders.
I drew back my hand and hit her hard across the side of her breast, the sound of my palm against her soft flesh resounding around the room. She swayed a little to the side under the force of the blow.
"Now the other one." She gasped out.
I repeated the clout from the other side, hitting her a little harder now that I knew she could take it. She took a sharp breath and an involuntary step to the side.
"Yes, that's good, but I told you not to hold back. Do it again, but harder." The words came out as tight little gasps from between clenched teeth.
I did it again and I didn't hold back this time, in fact I slapped her hard enough for my fingers to sting and hard enough to make an involuntary step to the side each time.
"God, that hurt something wonderful. Now do it just once more to each tit."
I drew back my hand to repeat the blows, but she interrupted me. "No! Backhand me. Give my tits a backhander each, really hard ones."
I moved my raised hand over to the other side of my body, noticing as I did that I was sporting a huge erection. I wasn't sure what to make of my body's response, but I was as turned on as she was.
This time I hit her as hard as I could, making her cry out and stagger back, but she came back, a little white faced, and planted herself for the next one. Her breasts were, I noticed, red and sore looking, especially the one I had just backhanded. I raised my other hand again, but then I remembered the ring I was wearing and paused to remove it. I didn't mind hurting her, but I didn't want to do damage.
Again she cried out in pain and staggered backwards from the blow, and when she stepped back and raised her head I could see tears of pain welling in her eyes. I had really hurt her that time, but she made no compliant, looking into my eyes as if defying me to hurt her.
"Thank you. I needed that, and I deserved it to." She looked at me with a shy little smile tugging at her mouth. "And it was nice."
"Nice!" How the hell could that be called nice?
"Yes, nice! It's got me going, just feel my pussy." I did as I was told, and found her pussy soaking wet. I've never understood the link between pain and pleasure, but here was plain evidence of its existence.
She went and knelt on the bed, lowering her head and raising her behind.
"Now fuck me as hard as you slapped me."
Once again, I did as I was asked, driving hard into her doggy style until my cock exploded and I filled her pussy with my spunk once more. Her climax came almost immediately my cock penetrated her, a powerful, earth shattering orgasm that had her ramming herself backwards onto my cock and screaming out her delight. Then she simply knelt submissively and waited for me to finish inside her.
I never did understand what drove Sophie. She would come up with the most imaginative and erotic ideas for sex, but she never said what gave her the idea or why she wanted to try it. I looked at it that I was getting the best end of the deal and if it ain't broke, don't fix it, so I left well alone.
In fact, I left well alone for three years, fucking Sophie regularly and with great variety, and enjoying every last minute of it. I suppose that over time we had become a bit blasé, we'd got away without Luke finding out for so long that we expected it to continue forever. As Sophie put it with her usual succinctness....
"I'm glad I'm fucking you, it keeps the world on an even keel."
When I looked at her puzzled by that remark she enlarged on it by saying. "This life works fine. He gets his meals cooked and clothes washed, and I get my bills paid and my pussy filled. The only thing that's unusual is that it's not the man paying my bills who fills my pussy."
I thought that was a bit cold-hearted, but then I was only the pussy filler!
But, of course, all good things must come to an end, and we must have got careless somewhere along the line, for one day instead of Sophie turning up for a meet, it was Luke. I learned later that he's been tipped off by an anonymous someone that Sophie and I would be meeting at a certain motel at a certain time, and there he was, baseball bat in hand. I will readily admit that I was out of that motel room via the window and in the car way before he had smashed his way through the lock, and it was a week before I showed my face again. By that time both he and Sophie had gone, nobody seemed to know where. A couple of weeks later their furniture followed and a 'for sale' sign appeared on the lawn. That was four years ago and I'd never seen either again until now.
*************************************
Just before eight the next evening my hotel phone buzzed and I answered to find it was the reception desk to tell me a 'person' was asking for me.
"Send her up, will you, please." I told him and made to put the phone down and greet my visitor.
He caught me just in time. "I'm sorry sir, but I can't do that."
"Oh?" I asked. "Why not?"
"I'm afraid the lady is known to us and she is not allowed in the hotel, except in the public rooms."
"And why is that?" I asked imperiously, sincerely believing that I'd soon put him straight.
The clerk coughed nervously and then continued. "I'm sorry Sir, but this person has been caught using the hotel for the purposes of prostitution, and she is no longer allowed into our guest rooms."
I was silent for several long minutes. Sophie? Prostitution? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Eventually I heard the clerk's voice as if from miles away. "Sir, what should I tell her?"
"Tell her I'll be down directly." I said brusquely and replaced the receiver.
As I descended the stairs I could imagine Sophie standing at the desk listening to the man telling me about her, and being embarrassed by the conversation, so I was expecting to walk into an argument between herself and the clerk. But as I reached the reception area all was calm, the clerk had his head down and Sophie stood patiently waiting to one side.
As I emerged from the stairs she walked forward with her arms out and we embraced warmly.
"It's so good to see you Sophie, how are you?" I asked after pulling myself clear.
"I've answered that once. Surviving, Dermot, surviving." She gave me a crooked smile. "I'm sorry about not being able to come up, I'd forgotten this hotel wouldn't let me."
"But surely it's a mistake?"
She shook her head sadly. "No mistake, Dermot. What he said was perfectly true."
I stood mute, staring at her in disbelief. My Sophie on the game? It was just too hard to take in. The sophisticated, well off, middle class woman who had used me to satisfy her carnal desires was now a cut price whore who received pay for satisfying other men's desires. The change in fortune was staggering.
"Come on." She said. "I've got a motel room we can go to. I don't want to talk in public."
She turned and led the way through the doors and into the car park, while I followed meekly behind, still gobsmacked.
We drove to her motel in silence. I don't think either of us knew what to say, or how to say it, and I still couldn't believe what was happening. But if I doubted the truth of the receptionist's accusations and Sophie's own admission, the doubt was dispelled as we checked into the motel.
"This one isn't business Jake; it's personal, so no time limit, okay?" Jake nodded and handed her a key without question or payment.
As we walked to her room she explained.
"I keep a room here for clients and Jake looks after me. He's a good man and if I ever get any bother, or someone outstays what they've paid for, he comes and gets rid of them for me. I just didn't want him to think you were here too long"
She stopped suddenly and looked at me seriously. "I'm sorry you had to find out what happened to me, Dermot, but you know me, I can't pretend. I am a whore and have been since Luke threw me out, and I may as well be upfront about it. Please don't judge me too harshly."
Sophie is someone who does what she needs to without bitterness or rancour. How could I judge her at all, let alone harshly? I turned to her and took her into my arms and for a long time we just stood there and hugged quietly.
The room was a bog standard third rate motel room, though cleaner than most. Sophie saw me looking round. "I pay Jake a retainer to keep this room available till last, and I bung the cleaner a bit extra to keep the place tidy, and she doesn't do a bad job really. So you can sit down without fear of bed bugs."
I wasn't quite sure if that comment was made in jest or seriousness, but I looked hard at the bed before trusting myself to it.
"What happened, Sophie?" I asked finally, after we both sat side by side on the little single bed
"When Luke found out about us he went looking for you, but I gather you were a bit too quick for him, so he just threw some things in a couple of suitcases and drove us out of town. I didn't get the choice, he literally frogmarched me to the car and I was scared stiff about what he meant to do."
She drew a deep breath before continuing.
"For a couple of days we stayed in a little motel, a lot like this one, and all the time he never said a word to me, but then on the third day he went out alone, locking me in the room. When he came back it was obvious he's made his mind up about something because we checked out and drove away. He never told me where we were headed, but it didn't matter because about ten miles down the road he pulled up, threw my suitcase into the roadside ditch and ordered me out of the car."
Sophie looked at me with a tear in her eyes as she remembered the next moment.
"He reached over into the back seat and picked up a hammer. I thought he was going to kill me, and maybe he thought about it too, but in the end he just pushed open the door and told me to go and be a proper whore instead of a freebie one. Then he simply pushed me out of the car and drove off. I haven't seen him since and the only contact I've had is when I had the divorce papers served on me. He left me destitute and he didn't care."
"But what about the house and your business?"
"He wrecked my business by telling all my clients that I was on the verge of being jailed for fiddling the tax man. Temp work is fickle and clients drop you at the first sniff of possible trouble, so the work dried up and the business collapsed. The house was in his name and, as he was divorcing me for adultery, I didn't get a look in. It was put in his name so it could be used as collateral against a business loan to buy the two giant cranes he had. I had never thought that it would ever matter when I signed my half away. I found out later that I hadn't needed to, but it was too late then."
"So what did you do?"
"I moved here and did what he told me to, I became a proper whore and made my living on my back." She looked at me again. "And I still do."
"Why?" I asked, puzzled. "Why don't you just take another job?"
"I tried, but Luke kept threatening anyone who might give me a reference, and the only jobs that didn't need references were monkey jobs. So I got into debt, you see I'd never had to budget before."
"Monkey jobs?" I asked, puzzled for a different reason this time.
"Yeah, monkey jobs. You know, pay peanuts and get monkeys?"
"Ahh!" I said as the penny dropped. I suddenly felt the weight of her head on my shoulder, and I put my arm around her. It was probably the first genuine affection that had ever passed between us in all the time I'd known her.
Quietly she told me of how she had drifted into prostitution to keep food in her belly and a roof over her head. She told me of vomiting after her first client, of the times when she was beaten up, and of some of the activities she had been forced to endure. And she told me in such a matter of fact way that I accepted what she told me without flinching, without looking down on her, and without even feeling the disgust that I expected to.
She also told me how expensive life as a whore could be, with even the rent for her apartment quadrupling in order to keep the landlord quiet, and how she had fought to prevent herself being 'adopted' by a pimp, who would feed her drugs and take her money in return for 'protection'. The lack of this so-called protection had cost her several severe beatings, but she had determined to stay independent.
Her new life had changed Sophie, but for the better. Gone was the selfish hedonism that triggered her affair with me and in its place was a philosophical acceptance of the retribution that had befallen her. When she spoke of Luke's actions in ruining her life she shrugged and said that after what she did to him she probably had it coming. She was a better human being for her experiences, one that I could relate to in more than a purely physical way.
For a long time we sat, silently thinking about the 'might have beens' and the 'what ifs', until I moved my head to look down at her at the same time as she looked up at me. Then it was inevitable that we should kiss. It was a long kiss, a very gentle and very emotional kiss in which seven years of waiting were poured out to each other in that simple meeting of mouths. I realised that she had meant more to me than I had ever let myself admit, and I'm pretty sure Sophie felt the same.
Then we were lying side by side on the bed, arms around each other, hugging and squeezing, kissing affectionately and murmuring silly nothings into each others ears. I have no real idea what either of us said, except it could all be conveyed as one sentence. 'Thank God I've found you again!' Sophie cried into my neck and I struggled to keep my voice from catching as I told her how much I needed her.
Then we began to undress each other, trying to struggle out of our clothes without losing that so important physical contact between us, and giggling stupidly in the attempt. Then, naked, we went back into our clinch, this time skin on skin, breast against chest, and legs tangled with legs.
Sophie's new life had changed her body as well as her outlook. She was never fat, just buxom, but now that extra padding had gone, leaving a slimmer but equally beautiful woman. Running my hands up and down her naked back I could feel hard muscle instead of the former softer flesh.
I explored her new body gently, stroking and caressing her, running my hands everywhere I could reach without getting out of kissing range, and Sophie moved to let me, sighing softly at the touch.
"Dermot, you could never know how good it feels to be touched like that by someone who cares instead of someone who's just paid for it."
I shushed her and carried on exploring. Then just above her hip my fingers encountered a little ridge of flesh, an unevenness that was out place on the smooth silkiness of her skin. She felt my fingers touching and investigating it, and explained.
"It's only a scar, Dermot."
"Feels a big one, how did you get that?"
"Just a punter wanting more than he'd paid for, and cutting up rough when I said no."
I sensed that I would get no further explanation, and so I let it go, but it gave me a deeper insight into the murky world she inhabited.
Soon my hand had found her breasts, smaller and firmer now, but still topped with those little bullets that were her nipples. It felt good to touch them again and I played with them for a long time, moulding, squeezing and stroking them, then tugging at her nipples and rolling them between finger and thumb. Sophie groaned and gasped, holding tight to me, but making no effort to guide or command me as she once would have.
"God, Dermot, I've missed that." And so had I.
I moved a little so that I could take her nipple into my mouth, and at the same time I reached between her legs, seeking her pussy. She turned onto her back and spread herself wide to give me unrestricted access, letting my hand go where it wanted and do whatever it wished. Touching her pussy I discovered to my surprise that she had let her pubic hair grow back, long and thick, perhaps as a subconscious way of dividing her old life to this one. Paying customers would not get the smooth and silky Sophie that I once knew.
I parted her bush with my fingers and stroked the length of her slit, causing Sophie to gasp with pleasure and cling to me tightly with the single arm she still had around me, pulling my mouth hard against her breast. She was wet, soaking wet, her pussy open and slippery, just waiting to receive me. I slid one finger inside her, making her groan, and then pushed another alongside it, hooking them both slightly before pushing in and out of her.
"Oh, my God, yes." She said, reaching down with her free hand to place it over mine and feel my fingers working to and fro.
"Dermot, I know I shouldn't ask, but could you still fuck me?"
"Yes, Sophie. I'd love to." I mumbled from around her breast.
"Even knowing what I do?" She gasped loudly as my fingers were rammed deep into her and I smiled by way of answer.
"It doesn't matter." I meant that.
"But you'll have to wear a condom." She looked at me as if to say 'did I realise that?'
That's when it all came home to me. Up till then I'd accepted that Sophie fucked men and got paid for it, but I hadn't realised just what that entailed. Even what she had told me such a short time before hadn't really sunk in until she mentioned that condom. That's when I understood the reality of prostitution. It wasn't just being paid to do a pleasurable act. It wasn't just the opening of legs and closing of minds. It was not even just the effect on the girls' mental and physical well being. It was the alienation, the rejection by society, as well as the effect on their health and that of their clients. Sophie didn't know if I'd want to fuck a prostitute, as if prostitutes were no longer women. I was moved and didn't know what to say.
Sophie picked up on my hesitation, but she misinterpreted it. She began crying quietly, tears streaming down each side of her face and onto the pillow.
"I'm sorry Dermot. It's not that I don't want to feel you inside me, I do, I really, really do, but you know what risks I take. I'm sure I don't have anything, honestly. It's just that I care for you more than anything and I want to be safe for you, just in case."
She had said it without saying it, and probably without knowing it, but I spotted it straight away, and my heart leapt. Both of us had been thinking and speaking in euphemisms, using the phrase 'caring for' instead of what we really meant -- 'loving'. I made my decision then, though I didn't say anything to Sophie until later.
"Sophie, my Sophie, don't you know, I'd wear a cardboard box for you if necessary."
She giggled at the imagery, the giggle getting louder and less controlled until I began to fear she would become hysterical. But the laughter was just a nervous release that mended the tears and we were soon back to kissing and hugging like adolescents at a drive-in, clothes not withstanding.
After a few minutes she disentangled herself enough to reach into a bedside cupboard and take out a little bowl containing a selection of different condoms. She didn't even look at the varieties, but just took a condom from the bowl and replaced it in the cupboard, her eyes locked on mine the whole time, trying, I guess, to gauge my reaction. Still looking directly at me her fingers tore open the packet and took out the rubber, then she reached for my cock and expertly enveloped it in latex. Once again her eyes glistened with tears.
"I'm sorry, darling Dermot, I'm so sorry it has to be like this."
It had been a long, long time since I had last worn a condom, and never before with Sophie, so the sensation of entering her strange, but nonetheless it felt almost like coming home. I slid into her waiting pussy like it was only yesterday I'd been there before, and began to thrust into her deep and meaningfully in just the way I knew she liked. For a short time she lay beneath me tense, perhaps not used to sex with an emotional rather than commercial overtone, but soon she relaxed and moved with me, gasping and moaning in my ear while gripping my shoulders and pulling me hard against her. My climax came slowly, delayed maybe by the sensation reducing condom, and so her orgasm had time to build, its pressure getting more and more intense until finally we both came together, shouting out, grabbing at each others bodies, holding on for all we were worth with Sophie gouging furrows in my back and my fingers leaving bruises on her arms where I held her.
I felt the reservoir at the tip of my condom fill with my cum as I spurted into it, happy that the condom had let me enter her, but wishing that it was Sophie's womb that would be receiving it instead. All the time I was cumming Sophie was bucking and shuddering beneath me, held fast by her own colossal orgasm, an orgasm so intense and so powerful that it left her drained and in tears as it passed. As for myself, I felt a mixture of elation that I had made love to Sophie for the first time rather than having simply fucked her, and sorrow that it had to be in such circumstances. We were both on a roller coaster of emotions.
Our post coital embrace was a strange one. Neither of us quite knew how to react and so neither of us reacted at all. I let my flaccid cock slip from her pussy, and then I rolled to one side and removed the spunk filled condom, an act that Sophie diplomatically ignored. After that I reached out and took her hand so that we lay side by side, string at the ceiling, wondering what to say and how to say it. In the end neither of us said anything and we both drifted to sleep. At one point in the night I think I felt a pair of soft lips fasten gently over my cock for a few seconds, but I truly can't be sure, even though I hope it was for real. I did wake later to visit the bathroom, and someone had switched off the light, so Sophie had been awake at some point.
In the morning I woke before she did, and just lay on my side watching her breathing, conscious of how beautiful she looked. I lay like that, watching and drinking in her beauty until my arm became numb from leaning on it and I had to straighten it. The movement disturbed Sophie and she stirred quietly before her eyes popped open and she focused on me. At first she seemed confused to see me, but then I think memory returned and she smiled, a gorgeous smile of pleasure.
"Hi,"
"Hello Sophie."
She smiled and stretched, then, without warning, she slipped out of bed and headed for the shower. I'm glad she did, because the short absence gave me time to gather the nerve to tell her of my earlier decision.
When she came out of the shower wrapped in an incongruous pale lemon bath sheet I held out my hand and steered her to sit on the bed. She looked at me but said nothing, understanding that I had something to say that needed her attention.
"Sophie, meeting you again has made me realise that I love you. Will you come back and live with me?" I put it as simply as I could.
Emotions, most of them positive, flitted across her face in rapid succession before a look of regret settled on her.
"How can I, Dermot? I love you too, but I'm a whore and you don't need a whore in tow."
I shook my head.
"No Sophie. You used to be a whore, but now you're my fiancée. Leave that part of your life behind and start again as my wife."
This time her tears were tears of happiness, and this time I shared them. |
