Distractions (20 page)

Emma knew that the fear of humiliation was greater than the humiliation itself. She’d been caught before. She’d be caught again. Embarrassment often fell more heavily on the head of the unlucky observer than on the bare bottoms of the offending couple. But the fear of exposure never abated. It grew more intense with each passing year. Emma’s hand trembled.

She saw two dark figures emerge from the entrance beneath them. The figures walked purposefully across the theatre to climb the stairs of the far aisle. David closed his eyes, his wife’s grip was practised. Emma saw that the couple were paying them no attention. She watched them sit in the back corner. She hoped David’s bulk would block them seeing her, but she couldn’t be sure. This new couple was the only pair seated behind them, albeit on the opposite side of the theatre.

Emma tested the water. She was shivering, a combination of the air-conditioner’s effect on her and her own trepidation. She looked up in their direction as she lowered her mouth to her husband’s cock. If she couldn’t see them, surely they couldn’t see her. But as she continued to suck her husband the image of the male’s face presented itself before her.

She lifted her head again slightly and spied the couple.

She shot back up, sitting straight in her seat. She began to stroke David to keep him happy.

David looked at her with a question on the turn of his lip.

Emma smiled and put her head on his shoulder. She kept stroking his cock. A moment or two later she lifted her head and, turning, looked across the theatre towards the far back corner. It was in shadow as the scene on screen was a night one. Emma waited patiently for day to come. She could see some movement in the corner, and was able to determine that the male was seated nearest her. Then there was light and Emma turned quickly away. She had been right.

Emma lost her focus. Her level of arousal plummeted from ten to zero. She continued to stroke her husband but she felt like a porn star earning a buck. She watched the movie for a moment, trying to distract herself. The film was terrible. She doubted if even David could enjoy it.

There was no way she could distract herself. Her curiosity was building. Who was he with? Had he seen her? She snuck another look, timing her turn to coincide with a shot of a lake in bright sunshine.

The couple were kissing. He had his hand under her top. But who was she? Emma could not see. She turned away.

‘Save this for later, baby,’ she said to David, packing away, with difficulty, his erection. Her hands were pulling his pants this way and that. The fly would not join. She knew the thing had fit in his pants before so it must fit now. David ended up finishing the job.

Emma was still snuggled against him but she was able to look over his shoulder towards the back. The couple were really going at it. These days it was rare to see people kissing passionately in public. In Paris or Rome it seemed obligatory for teens and young adults to kiss with great passion in public view, but here, even kissing in the safe darkness of a theatre was becoming rare.

Emma watched with growing interest. She was now the voyeur, the flip-side to her earlier fears.

Emma smiled at the turnaround. Not five minutes ago she had been performing an act upon her husband which was truly lewd and yet she felt dirtier viewing these two lovers from afar. It caused certain parts of her to reverberate. These parts now needed attention. The young wife was not averse to using her husband for her own purposes.

She lifted his hand from her knee and placed his palm between her legs. Though the man was now engrossed in the terrible film he reacted mechanically, having been used thus many times before.

He undid her jeans and pressed his hand down her pants and began to rub her very, very gently with the tip of his middle finger. He was very well trained in this.

Emma, the naughty girl, continued to spy on the couple. She believed now that more than the kissing was taking place. His arm seemed to be busy well below her breasts. Her position had changed, there was an arch in her back. Emma pretended David’s hand was the man’s hand. She was sure that hand was being far more aggressive, she was sure his fingers were pushing deep inside the girl.

The girl broke away from the kiss. Emma saw her face, her mouth was open and her eyes were dark and unseeing. She looked towards Emma, but Emma was certain these were the eyes of the temporarily blind. Then it was all over. The girl shuddered to a halt and fell against him. They sat quietly, he watching the film, she with eyes closed, her head on his shoulder.

Emma continued to watch, as David continued
to play with her. Then the face of the man turned towards her and he smiled. Emma had been lost in her reverie and was slow to react. He was looking straight at her. She smiled. She had no option. She’d missed the chance to look away. Then he turned back to the film.

Emma too turned to face the screen. She rested against David with her eyes closed though, and left his finger to play its gentle game. He was in no hurry, she was in no hurry, the film was in no hurry. Emma very much enjoyed the way David would indulge her in this manner. He was a good boy. He’d do it anywhere he deemed safe. Safe for him, that is.

While David’s finger loitered, Emma’s thoughts were with the couple in the back. She would not look again, but her imagination was continually offering gorgeous examples of what might be occurring, which served to keep her in an extended and deliberate state of bliss.

Emma was almost asleep, her thoughts, fantasies and dreams having been stirred into the one erotic broth, when David’s movements alerted her to the tragic reality of the film’s end. Drowsily, her body tingling, she lifted his tired hand to her mouth and sucked on his generous finger.

When she opened her eyes the credits were rolling. She lifted her arms above her head to stretch and yawn, careful to use the opportunity to check on the couple in the back. But they were gone.

TWENTY-SEVEN

David was waiting on a chair near the exit when she came out of the ladies. She strolled over to him, smiling. He stood up and took her hand in his. As they were walking down the stairs, he asked, ‘Did you notice young Jason with a girl?’

‘No,’ lied Emma.

‘They must have been to see the same movie. He shrank from me when he saw me. Do you suppose he’s been up to no good?’

‘Any self-respecting teen should be up to no good, baby. It’s what they do.’

‘I wasn’t.’

‘And you became a banker.’

‘Point taken,’ he said seriously, then laughed. After a moment, when the thought finally registered, ‘Maybe he saw us, Em?’

‘He probably did, you stand out.’

They were already walking down Clifford Street on their way home.

‘I meant, saw what you were doing to me.’

‘I know.’

‘That doesn’t worry you?’

‘No. What worries me is that here we are, late at night, alone, on a dark street, and it doesn’t even occur to you to drag me into the shadows.’

‘He may still be around, Emma.’

‘Let’s look in the shadows. That’s where teenagers take their girlfriends.’

‘I’m serious, Em. It doesn’t worry you that he may have seen us?’

‘No, why should it?’

‘He may tell his parents.’

‘David! Are you serious? And what would happen then? We weren’t sacrificing babies to our Dark Lord Satan. I was playing with your cock. And if you’d like, I’d do it now. Right here on the pavement,’ she said, a little annoyed. Nothing should worry her Neanderthal.

‘You’re depraved, darling.’

‘That’s why you married me,’ she said, reaching across and grabbing his crotch. He was hard again. Seeing Jason had made her yearn for the vitality, the spontaneity, the passion of youth. Why should it end?

‘At least he doesn’t lie to me,’ said Emma, referring to David’s penis.

‘I don’t lie to you,’ said David with conviction.

‘Then fuck me here, against this fence, under the light of the street lamp. Be true to your cock.’ She had stopped walking and rested her bum on a low brick fence. She undid her jeans and exposed herself by pulling them down slightly.

David felt a little threatened. Her suggestion sounded more like a taunt and made him uncomfortable. His fear turned to resentment and then anger.

‘Don’t be silly, we’re almost home,’ he said, trying to swallow his ire.

‘Fuck me, husband,’ she demanded, reaching out for him.

‘Emma, be reasonable,’ he said, pushing her hand away from his fly.

‘No,’ she said adamantly. She wanted her husband to break. Paul would have had her on her
hands and knees on the nature strip. Paul knew when a woman was serious.

‘Why do you have to do this?’

‘Because you’re as hard as rock and you really do want to fuck me here in front of the world. You want to. I know you do.’

‘I don’t. I want the comfort of our bed, baby,’ he said.

‘Don’t you find me sexy?’ she asked, assuming that he did.

‘I do. I do, but I don’t want to be caught on the street. It’s …’ He wanted to use the word
common
but couldn’t find the nerve to. He was a little ashamed of Emma’s behaviour.

‘Right,’ said Emma, buttoning up her pants as she dropped off the fence.

‘Em!’ said David, plaintively. Then, ‘Emma!’ in a tone he might have used on a naughty child.

She ignored him and started to walk away down the hill. He was on her in a flash, as she knew he would be.

David grabbed her from behind, clutching both of her arms in his large hands, gripping her biceps. She was carried rather than led off the street.

‘You make me so angry the way you do this,
young lady!’ he hissed in her ear. ‘I’m going to make sure you’ll never want to do it again.’

Emma had no words to say in reply. He was dragging her under the large block of flats at the end of Clifford Street. There was undercover parking, visible from the street, with shadowy areas for desperados.

Before Emma knew what was what, she was pressed against cold, painted brick, face first, and her jeans were being ripped from her. She obliged her attacker by stepping out of them. Now she was naked from the waist down. Generously exposed. There was no hiding this. Anyone from the street could see her bare behind. She was feeling giddy.

Then he entered her. She hadn’t even the presence of mind to note him undoing his pants, or touching her, or anything. Her mind was in a spin. The smells of oil and petrol, of dust and rubber filled her nostrils. His hands held her. Her own gripped the edge of the wall in front of her. Her elbows bent under powerful thrusts from his hips as he fucked her. She was collapsing against the wall. He pulled out. And hesitated. He held his cock in his hand. She was still in the wake of his last thrust when she felt him pushing against her arsehole.

‘Bastard!’ she growled.

‘Slut!’ he said loudly. The word echoed around the carport. Emma felt the truth in the word and pushed back against his cock, taking it in roughly and painfully. She swore loudly but gripped his thickness with her sphincter muscles.

David was more circumspect. He held off for a moment but his wife was having none of that. She was feeling truly perverse. She pushed against his cock, forcing it in deep.

‘Fuck me, you shit,’ she whispered.

David’s mind was screaming for sanity. Here he was fucking his wife in the arse in someone’s car space. They might come home. Anyone might see them from the street. His whole career might be thrown away because his wife had just stopped short of calling him chicken.

But he was so fucking turned on! He had lost something. When he had pulled out, he was intending to close his pants and leave her there. But instead he had been compelled by his own thumping desires to fuck her in the arse.
She
compelled him. Her whole body, the situation. The dirt and grime, the wet boxes and the scratch on the Audi over there. In short, everything pushed him to do it. He loved when she asked for it. He’d never met a woman who asked to be fucked in the arse. She’d
come and come. He’d never known the like. But this time, he had chosen.

Nothing could be as exciting. He had his back to the street. What a fool! He had to turn and look over his shoulder or under his arm. But the more he worried the more he enjoyed it. The more he thought someone might spring them, the greater his pleasure. He was finally getting it.

‘What are you doing to that poor woman?’ came a voice from the darkness.

Both Emma’s and David’s hearts thumped at the sound. David thought his had burst.

The voice was that of an elderly woman. David was busily doing up his pants and strolling towards her. Emma had ducked down and was trying to find her jeans and her sandals. She could still feel David’s cock in her arse.

‘She’s not a poor woman, she’s my wife,’ she heard David say, and she laughed. She couldn’t help herself. Then she heard the voice say something to David and he mumbled a reply. Emma pulled up her pants.

‘We’d better go. She was threatening to ring the police. But I talked her down,’ he said.

‘I wonder how long she was watching?’ said Emma as they left the scene of the crime.

David put his arm around her as they crossed the road. He was buzzing. He was harder than he’d ever been. The old biddy! What a sight to see! Thinking about what they had been doing was more exciting than doing it. His mind had caught up with his body at long last. He was not done.

Emma was not done either. She had to be finished off. Being caught had left her shaking, as though she’d been in a mild car accident. Or robbed at knife point. She felt weak through excitement, through the sudden loss of adrenaline.

They walked in silence. Emma was watching every shadow. She wanted … That’s all she knew. She
wanted
. When it came she would know its name.

David resented the interruption. He realised the old lady felt she had a moral obligation to make sure a woman wasn’t being abused. He was a large man, larger in the dark. She was brave to intervene. But still, she might have known. Damn that woman! He was of a rebellious turn now. He’d stare down anyone who came between him and his pleasure.