Addicted (6 page)

"Oh, hi,
Helen," he smiled, looking up at me from the patch of grass he was
sitting on. "What are you doing here?"

Looking for sperm
. "Walking,
wandering... I just bumped into Lydia."

"Did you?" he
murmured unconcernedly.

"She told
me."

"Oh."

"She was
experimenting, that was all."

"She's a
lesbian, for Christ's sake!"

I sat beside
him, my heart pounding hard against my chest at the prospect of
drinking from his penis. I sensed danger lurking. I knew him, and
Lydia, and they knew Tony. I shouldn't play dangerous games on my
own doorstep, but I needed a fix. A stranger would have been
better, someone who knew nothing about me. My mouth was dry, my
breathing uneasy. I looked at his jeans, his crotch, bulging with
his penis - his heavy, sperm-filled balls.

Lydia might
come to see how we're getting on, wondering whether I'd repaired
their relationship - and catch me with her boyfriend's knob
spunking in my sperm-thirsty mouth. But I couldn't help that, it
wasn't my problem. Besides, she didn't own David's penis.

Shifting on
the soft grass, I sat opposite him, resting my chin on my knees. My
feet apart, my delicious vaginal lips were clearly visible, bulging
between the tops of my thighs - symmetrical, ovoid. He didn't
notice, he was watching a duck on the water - a mallard. I waited
in expectation, anticipation - patiently. There was plenty of time,
no rush - only blind panic.

I felt dirty,
crude, wicked. Prostitute. Adultery. Something possessed me and I
imagined David fucking me, cock-fucking my cunt. His solid cock
fucking my hot wet cunt - spunking up my tight cunt. Ever cruder in
my depravity. Full-blown adultery, I couldn't do it. But I craved
sex now, as well as sperm. Adultery, why not? Mouth-fuck,
cunt-fuck, there was no difference.

"I feel really
horny," I said huskily, the words falling from my wet lips
seemingly of their own accord. He turned away from the mallard and
looked at me. Lowering his head, his deep-set eyes widened as he
focused on my ballooning cunt lips, my pink vulval crack. "I could
do with a good fuck, David. How about it?" His jeans bulged as his
penis stiffened. I'd done it, uttered my crude words, now it was up
to him.

He stared in
disbelief at my ballooning sex lips, my sex-wet cunt. It turned me
on, his eyes gazing at me there, between my thighs at my vaginal
lips. My erect nipples brushed against my blouse, bringing me
beautiful sensations as I stretched my legs out and parted them. I
wanted his mouth sucking on my milk teats, stiffening them. I'd
suck my nipples later as I candle-fucked my juiced cunt.

Tugging my
skirt up over the slight rise of my stomach, I looked down at my
beautiful cunt. David looked too, probably wondering what had come
over me, the respectable married woman from the big house down the
lane. Sex had come over me, craving, longing, a desperate thirst
for sperm.

I licked my
lips provocatively. "Well?" I breathed, parting my legs further, my
vaginal slit opening, revealing my inner sex folds - my cunt
hole.

"Well!" he
gasped. "I... I don't know what to say!"

"Say nothing.
I don't want you to use your tongue to speak; I want you to use it
to fuck me. Tongue-fuck my cunt."

I lay back on
the grass, my femininity blatantly offered to the stunned young
man. The danger didn't matter at that moment, all that mattered
was... I didn't know what mattered. Tony certainly didn't! Closing
my eyes, I suddenly wondered what I was doing, what I was becoming.
My desperate quest for sperm had changed me, transformed me from a
loving and devoted wife into a... into a prostitute.

I was about to
leap to my feet and run away, but I felt warm breath against my
sex. Run away? No, I couldn't run away from myself. My clitoris
stirred, pulsating as he planted a gentle kiss on my swelling
labia. I waited in anticipation for his tongue, his wet,
inquisitive tongue to taste me there. I cried as he licked me,
cried secretly - the tears running over my temples and into my ears
as I looked up at a cloud drifting across the sky. His tongue
snaking between my cunt lips, tasting my intimacy, my juices of
lust, I again thought of Tony.

Tony would
never know, I consoled myself. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt
him, but it would hurt me, my aching mind. For the rest of my life,
I'd be haunted by my wanton adultery, tortured by images of another
man's cock spunking in my mouth, another man's tongue
tongue-fucking my cunt.

"You're a
dirty little cow," David breathed, parting my pussy lips and
licking my wet pink flesh. His uncouth words sent a tingle up my
spine, my stomach somersaulted. Tony had never talked dirty. I
liked it, the dirty sex, the dirty words - they made me feel dirty.
Sex with Tony had been about love, this was about dirt. Cold sex,
crude sex, vile and obscene sex. I needed sperm, it was God's
will.

"You've a nice
cunt," David commented, licking my pulsating clitoris. "A nice wet
cunt." His words drifted in the summer air, mingling with birdsong,
lapping water - a cunt-lapping tongue. "You taste wonderful. Lydia
doesn't like me licking her cunt out." Lydia, poor Lydia. She'd
trusted me, and I'd betrayed her. I'd betrayed Tony. "Christ,
Helen, you're bloody wet!"

The unfamiliar
tongue repeatedly swept over my clitoris, stiffening my sex nodule,
taking me closer to my adulterous orgasm. I wanted to come, to feel
the sensations of sex well from my contracting womb and bathe my
trembling body. Desperate now, I needed his sperm. "Faster!" I
ordered him in my urgency. "Bring me off, quickly!"

He
finger-fucked my cunt as he sucked and licked my clitoris. My body
jolted with the vaginal thrusting, the in-driving, the cunt
pumping. My stomach rose and fell with his pistoning, my breasts
heaved, my cunt ached. This was sex as I'd never known it, filthy
sex, debased sex. I felt shame and guilt; I felt elation as my
climax came and gripped me, shaking me violently.

"God, my
cunt!" The unfamiliar words left my lips and flew up into the
trees. "I'm coming! Ah, my wet cunt!" He expertly took me to one of
the best orgasms I'd ever experienced. His vile words, his
fanny-fingering, his clit-licking, took me ever-higher to my sexual
heaven - ever deeper to my sexual depravity.

Before I'd
drifted down from my climax, he was on top of me, his knob stabbing
between my vaginal lips, trying to gain entry to my inner sanctum.
It was Tony's vagina. Only Tony was allowed there and I tried to
raise myself on my elbows to halt the imminent adultery. Suddenly,
he drove into me, deep into my cunt. Gasping, he began his fervent
fucking, jolting me, fucking my cunt - Tony's cunt.

"Tony," I
whimpered as David ripped the front of my blouse open and sank his
teeth into my nipple. Pinning me down, he continued his fucking,
his nipple biting. Gasping, the sensations of debased sex wetting
my stretched vagina, I came. Crying, whimpering, I'd never known
sex like this, cold sex, sex for the sake of sex. My aching cunt
tightening, my clitoris pulsated in orgasm against his thrusting
shaft as he fucked me.

"My mouth!" I
cried as I sensed his body become rigid. "Spunk in my mouth!" He
slipped his cock out of my cunt and quickly moved beside me, his
huge wet glands hovering close to my face, a globule of sperm
already dribbling from his slit. Resting on my elbow, I grabbed his
cock, taking his cunny-wet knob into my thirsty mouth as the first
jet of spunk shot from his slit.

Sucking, licking, mouthing, I brought out his seed, savouring
the heady drug before swallowing hard. His fingers between my
burning pussy lips, he massaged my clitoris, taking me to another
mind-blowing climax as I drank from his orgasming glans. In my
gasping, I inadvertently allowed a trickle sperm to run down his
wet shaft and over his balls.
I mustn't
waste a drop
! I thought fearfully, slipping
his spent cock out of my mouth and lapping at his heavy balls.
Licking his shaft as he slowed his clitoral massaging, I swallowed
the last of his nectar, satisfying my desperate craving before
collapsing on the soft grass in a quivering heap.

I was done,
fucked and spunked in my adultery. My nipples sore, my cunt
dripping, my mouth salty, I closed my eyes and waited for the calm
to bathe me, the peace to wash over me. Sperm, diazepam,
tranquillity. I wasn't listening to David's words of appreciation
as he tugged his zip up, I was revelling in the glory of my
sperm-filled body.

I didn't hear
my partner in adultery leave, creep away from the scene of illicit
sex. I lay there for hours beneath the burning sun, basking in the
serenity drifting through my glowing body. Calm reigned, peace
ruled. Finally clambering to my feet, I made my way home, my cunt
drenched, my nipples sore - my mind placid, tranquil.

After a long hot bath, I wandered naked into my studio. The
reality of my behaviour hitting me as I gazed at the word
fuck
on the wall, I froze.
What had happened to me? What had I become? A stranger on the
common, and now David, Lydia's boyfriend. Guilt consumed me, shame
engulfed me, fear...

Tony, poor Tony. If he ever found out... But no, he'd never
discover the shocking truth about his loving wife, his adulterous
prostitute. In the name of lust, I'd given my body, my cunt, to
another man. Tony would kill me if he knew! His own aching hurt
would kill
him
.

I sat on the
Chesterfield and looked down at my nakedness, my sore nipples, my
inflamed vaginal lips. My body, my temple - desecrated. My marriage
vows had been shattered, tossed on the wind of adultery. Why had I
allowed my craving for sperm to destroy my sanctity? I could have
taken sperm from men without... no, I couldn't.

Grabbing the
ringing phone, I was horrified to hear Tony's deep voice. I was
afraid and guilt-ridden. "I've been ringing and ringing," he said
accusingly.

"Yes, I went
out for... for a walk," I replied, parting my thighs and fondling
my wet inner lips, pulling and twisting on my sensitive butterfly
wings - the wings of my cunt. "The weather's nice here."

"Miss me?"

Did I miss
him? I wasn't sure in the confusion scattered around the wreckage
of my mind. "Yes, of course I miss you."

"Tell me what
you've been up to."

Getting myself fucked
. "Er... working,
mainly. I went for a walk, as I said, and now I'm about to get back
into work."

"Your
secret?"

My heart
leaped. "Secret?"

"Whatever it
is you're working on, your secret."

"Oh, yes, I
see. Look, I must go, Tony."

"You said that
the last time I rang. Is everything OK?"

"Yes, yes of
course!" I forced a giggle. "I want to get on, that's all."

"OK, I'll ring
again. Love you."

"I... I love
you."

Dropping the
receiver into its cradle, I lay back on the sofa and closed my
eyes. Where had my love for Tony gone? Withered like a parched
flower - dead. Where was this path I'd wandered down taking me? It
wasn't too late to turn back. I'd not gone too far down the path of
adultery to turn back and find my direction with Tony again, had I?
But I'd soon be climbing the walls, desperate for a fix of sperm -
and Tony wasn't there.

I didn't leave
the house for two days, doing nothing other than painting, and
masturbating with my treasured candle. Tony had rung Stephen Giles
telling him that the Blue Lady was ready for collection. He'd be
round after lunch with a cheque. I'd be pleased to see the back of
her, I mused, gazing into her oily eyes. She'd haunted me with her
knowing look, and I'd hated it.

My craving
hadn't reappeared, I didn't know why. Maybe it was because I'd
thrown myself into my work. Had it appeared, reared its ugly head,
I wouldn't have been short of sperm because David had phoned
several times pestering me for sex. He'd made no threats, yet, but
he'd as good as demanded sex.

By lunchtime
my hands were trembling and my heart going wild, I was frantic,
desperate for sperm. Stephen Giles was due; I couldn't let him see
me in that state! My thoughts turned to David, his solid cock, his
gushing sperm. I wanted to suck him off. But I'd thought I'd turned
back, halted my journey along the path to destruction and
ruination. I had to fight it!

Stephen
arrived at two wielding a bunch of red carnations. Red paint -
fuck. He was tall, in his mid-forties, good-looking with dark swept
back hair and a suntan. Inviting him in, I apologized for my
paint-splattered smock as I placed the flowers on the table and led
him through the hall to my studio. Disguising my mental state, my
wall-climbing, I unveiled the Blue Lady and waited with bated
breath for his reaction.

"Incredible!"
he gasped, his face beaming as he looked at the painting. "My God,
I didn't expect anything this good!"

"It's not
that
good," I said in my modesty. "But I'm glad you like
it."

"Like it? I
think it's brilliant!"

He stood
gazing at the Blue Lady for some minutes, showering me with praise
and compliments. I didn't like flattery, it didn't suit me, but I
smiled at the appropriate moments and said what I thought to be the
right things. Tony had put himself on the line by suggesting that I
undertake the painting of his managing director's wife. He must
have had confidence in me, I reflected. He'd had trust, too. Trust
I'd betrayed.

"What sort of
art is that?" Stephen asked, pointing at the four red letters on
the white wall.

Fuck
. "Er... a friend did that," I
replied, my face flushing. "It... it's meant to portray..." My
words tailed off as I followed his gaze to the painting standing in
the corner of the studio.