|
The Betrayal 2/3
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
THE BETRAYAL by Alex Taylor Douglas PART II
Eric called the next day, which was Saturday, at about noon. I
really didn't trust myself at this point so I meant to create an excuse so
as not to go with Alex to pick up Eric and his car. But, Alex told me
he was going to go with Eric to look at some stereo equipment and wanted me
to come along to bring his car home. What could I say? I couldn't think fast
enough to come up with a good excuse so I dumbly nodded my agreement. I
could only hope that the electricity I thought existed between Eric and I
the evening before was gone, a product of a unique situation. After all, it
had never existed before as far as I was aware, at least not on a conscious
level.
No such luck. As Eric strode out to the car the only thing I could
think of was the orgasm I had had the night before while thinking about
Eric. My pussy immediately dampened and my breath quickened. I could only
manage a brief "Hi" when Eric got into the back seat. Was it my imagination
or was there something in his eyes other than friendship? God, I didn't
want this! What did I do to cause this? I tried to think about anything
other than Eric or sex with little success. We finally reached the pub, and
Alex and Eric got of our car, said goodbye, and left. Thank God! What
was wrong with me?!
I was amazed I didn't get a speeding ticket as I drove along the
freeway to our house in the west end, I was in such a rush to get home.
I didn't bother pulling into the garage, or even locking the car door. I
burst through the front door as fast as I could, ran upstairs, threw myself
on the bed and once more began masturbating wildly. I didn't even bother
to take off my jeans. I just undid the button, slipped my hand inside under
the waistband of my panties and began rubbing my sopping wet mound as fast
as I could. It didn't take long for another big orgasm to crash through my
body.
I couldn't believe it. I couldn't even remember the last time I had
made myself come before last night, and now I'd done it twice in fourteen
hours. I had not lost my self-control like this in years. I honestly didn't
know what to do.
Then the weekend was over, and by Tuesday I was back into the work
routine, events of a few days before more or less behind me. I hadn't had
another "attack" since Saturday and I was beginning to think that I was the
victim of tides, or hormones, or some other arcane reason that men use to
justify a woman's "irrational" behavior. Whatever, it was a relief to be
back in control again.
Thursday evening after supper Alex's baseball team was having sort
of a "practice" which in fact was just a flimsy excuse to get together
for beers. Alex invited me along, and even though I felt a few butterflies
about seeing Eric I felt OK about going. Besides, I had to work the weekend
and I wasn't going to get a chance to go out again probably until the
following weekend. So, away we went.
I was mistaken. I couldn't take my eyes off Eric. Mind you, neither
could the other spouses, as usual, but for me this time it felt different.
Eric actually looked back at me quite often, as if to see if I were still
watching him. In the past he may have tossed a ball at me, or shouted or
waved, but now he seemed to just be watching me as much as I was watching
him.
After the short practice we went over to the pub. Again I knew I
should just go straight home but I couldn't think of a good excuse. In
retrospect maybe I really didn't want to go home; maybe I secretly wanted
something to happen. I really don't know.
The air conditioning must have been turned up a little more than
usual because I began to get chills as soon as I walked in. Mind you I was
only wearing a short pair of cutoffs and a muscle shirt over my underwear as
it was a warm evening. Anyway, when I'm chilled my nipples become quite erect
and unfortunately I wasn't wearing the proper clothing to hide that kind
of physiological happening. Alex noticed immediately and gave me a leering
smile which embarrassed me. I turned away and almost walked right into Eric.
He reached out and caught me by my bare shoulders to keep from running into
him and the heat from his hands on my cool skin caused my nipples to harden
even more, painfully even.
"Whoa, careful Deb!" he said. We locked eyes momentarily before he
swept his gaze quickly across my chest. For the first time since I met him
I knew, I mean I really knew, that he was looking at me with desire in his
eyes. I wasn't his friend's wife at that moment, but a woman who I'm sure
had the same look in her eyes. Again I felt the now-familiar warm wetness
in the crotch of my panties and I began to tremble slightly, not just from
the cold.
"Man, you're freezing!" he exclaimed. "Go sit down and I'll run out
and grab you a sweatshirt from my car, OK? It's not dirty, I only wore it
for about an hour last night." He left and I sat down in a chair at one of
the three tables that had been pushed together.
He came back about a minute later with a white sweatshirt that was
nice and toasty warm from sitting on the front seat of his car. I put it
on and immediately began to warm up. As grateful as I was for the warmth
the smell of him on his sweatshirt did absolutely nothing for the state I
was in. I could smell his cologne, his shampoo, his soap, and it was with
me all the time, masculine and intensely attractive. The wetness in my
panties increased until I was sure it would show through my cutoffs, making
me afraid to stand up. Lord, I didn't even know if I *could* stand.
After a while Eric came and sat down beside me. The slight smell
of his sweat from the practice mingled with the smells on the shirt, on him,
and I felt like begging him to go away.
"What's up, Deb?" he asked. "You don't seem to be your usual self
tonight. Something wrong?" The last question asked with a slightly raised
eyebrow.
"I - I'm not sure," I stammered. "I think I might be coming down
with something."
"Well, I hope you're feeling better soon." What did he mean by that?
He sat there beside me for a minute, not saying anything, watching
a game of darts. Then I became aware of a small pressure against my outer
thigh, skin almost as cool as mine. He didn't look at me or say anything, and
then the pressure increased slightly. I responded by slightly rubbing my
leg up and down against his, heart racing. This was going too far! Then a
new touch, the back of his hand, knuckles lightly caressing the top of my
thigh near the leg of my cutoffs. I should have stopped him, but I didn't.
God, I had never felt this way, not even the first time I was with Alex.
His hand turned over and the caress continued with his fingertips, this time
over the top of my leg to the inside of my thigh and I had to stifle a
moan less the others at the table notice what was happeni.
Suddenly a call.
"Hey Eric, you're up!" It was Jim, one of the guys from the softball
team over by the pool table, holding up a cue.
"Gotta go, Debs," he said with a smile. "Hope you're feeling better."
He stood up and walked over to a group of guys. Soaked crotch or not, I had
to get out of there. I walked over to the bar where Alex was conversing
with someone I didn't know.
"Honey, I'm not feeling very well. Can we leave soon?" I pleaded.
"Sure, babe. I was getting ready to go anyway." He said goodbye to
the guy he was talking to and then we walked over and said bye to the team
and their women. I knew Eric was watching me as I left.
***************************************************************************
Now I know how Machiavelli felt. It gives one a unique feeling to
see others reacting to situations you've created, especially when they have
no idea you're really behind it.
Pulling Eric's strings was easy - the man lives for sex. As soon
as he could justify fucking my wife in his own mind he was off to the
races. Deb was a little more interesting. For one thing, I live with
her so I had to be a LOT more subtle than I was with Eric. I see I was
also right on the money about the attraction she felt toward Eric although
it was considerably stronger than I had believed. I witnessed the little
massage episode in the kitchen and while I believe she believes her gesture
was rooted in innocence, I also believe she was acting on a subconscious
desire. Hell, why not - Eric's a really good-looking guy. If I was a chick
*I'd* fuck him.
This may sound stupid, but I also looked at her panties in the laundry
the evening of the massage, and also the next evening. Cunt-juice galore.
From the way she acted in the kitchen after Eric left I wasn't surprised
about the first night, but her panties the second night were still soaked
from the amount of wetness in the afternoon. I see that she masturbated
with her panties still on that day so that explains the moisture. Still, I
was right, but for the wrong reason.
The evening of the practice was a masterstroke. I knew Deb would find
the pub cool after the heat of the early evening especially wearing what she
was. Eric and I entered ahead of some of the ladies, including Deb, and I
pulled him aside.
"Hey bud, it's kind of chilly in here. Do have a sweatshirt or some-
thing Deb can put on?" I knew he did - I saw it on the front seat of his
Talon. "Make sure she really wants it before going to the trouble." I saw
her coming in, her nipples standing proud in the air conditioning, and
gave her my "dirty" smile (she hates it). She turned away and would have ran
right into Eric's chest had he not stopped her. I also see her little gasp
as he touches her. Perfect. She nods. Eric leaves and she sits down. I know
what effect his shirt will have on her - and not just because I know she
likes his cologne. Eric is the one looking out for her comfort and not her
husband, like he should be. Yeah, work that old subconscious.
****************************************************************************
The warm evening air was a blessing to my cold legs. We climbed
into the car which was by now about 15 degrees warmer than the outside
air, so I was able to take off the sweatshirt Eric had lent me. I tried to
relax as we began the drive down the freeway towards home but I kept
feeling the touch of Eric's fingertips on my thigh, as if his hand was still
there. Having a really wet pussy for a long time can get extremely
uncomfortable, I discovered. I could hardly wait to get home and into a tub,
under a nice strong stream of water. I briefly consider throwing myself at
my husband again but decided against it. All I needed right now was to be
rejected again.
I went to bed naked that night, the cool linen of the sheets a
welcome contrast to the heat of orgasm that was still with me. I should
have been tired, but I couldn't sleep. I knew I was going to have to avoid
Eric, at least until Alex started making love to me again. I decided to
take the next day, which I had off, and the weekend to make up good
excuses for not going to the next couple of ball games. Actually, I had to
think fairly fast because there was a game scheduled for the next evening.
I also pledged to myself to approach Alex in a mature, non-threatening way
to try and discover the root of his lack of interest. (Alex's Note:
Interesting choice of words, don't you think?). I fell asleep sure I
could work my way out of this with my fidelity and my husband intact.
As forecast, the next day was warm and sunny. I got up around
10 o'clock a.m. and had half a melon and a glass of juice for breakfast. I
hadn't done any serious tanning for about a week and a half and wasn't
about to waste this opportunity, being all by myself all day long. Alex
says that summer in this part of the world is just two weeks of bad skiing,
and while that's a bit of an exageration there are little enough really
hot days that I feel guilty if I miss one.
After breakfast I went upstairs and pulled out the bikini I wear
when I tan at home. I bought it during our honeymoon in Rio de Janiero and
though it seemed like a good idea at the time it turned out to be otherwise.
It's not that it's really tiny, although it's probably small by most
standards. It was nothing compared to the scraps of cloth the girls on
Copacabana and Ipanema were wearing. The problem is the colour. It's a
light dusty rose that turns transluscent when wet, much to my shock the
first time I walked out of the surf in Rio. It didn't matter much there
because I didn't know anyone on the beach besides Alex but I'd never wear
it in public here at home. It became my sun-tanning-at-home suit.
The back of our house faces south-west. Alex put in a deck a year
after we bought it, and last year put up a four-foot railing almost all
the way around it at my request. I love to tan out there but didn't like
the idea of being watched in the process. Anyway, now it's impossible to
spy on me unless it's from a helicopter. I get a little nervous sometimes
because the meter-readers occasionally come into the back yard to do what
ever it is they do, and it happened once while I was tanning during a day
off. I was terrified he would come around to the stairs next to the house
and glance up onto the deck, but thankfully he didn't.
Anyway, I put on the suit, put on a visor to keep the sun, hair and
sweat out of my eyes, grabbed the spray bottle and baby oil and headed out
onto the deck. What a perfect day it was. Everyone was at work besides me
and the neighborhood was so quiet. I laid down on the lounger and let the
warm sun wash over my body. I let out a long sigh as I relaxed, letting
the tension drain out of me..
***************************************************************************
I want to take a minute to describe this bikini. Deb actually bought
it at my insistance. I would have liked her to buy something smaller but I
knew she never would - the fact that it disappears when it's wet was an
unexpected bonus. Anyway, it's kind of pink (OK, dusty rose). The back
of the bottoms is about 10 cm across at the waist and the front is about
7.5 cm across at the waist. She definitely has to trim her pubic hair
before wearing it. The waistband is basically just a string. The top is
basically just three strings - one to go around her chest under her boobs
and two to go over her boobs and tie at the back of the neck. The pieces
of cloth covering her breasts are about 7.5 cm at the bottom and are shaped
like a slightly stretched triangle. There's definitely no real support there
- she has to tie it real tight to keep it in place which makes her tits
bulge out a bit at the sides. That looks *really* nice, trust me.
It's just enough to keep her nipples from getting sunburned, which is
something *I've* never worried about but I guess it's important to some
women. Very sexy bathing suit, especially when wet.
******************************************************************************
After about an hour I went inside to get a drink of water, a snack,
and a paperback. I paused, and then decided to open the bottle of wine that
was chilling in the fridge. My crystal wine goblets are so small that I always
use the water goblets from the same set for wine, so I grabbed one, filled it
to the brim, and went back outside. I inclined the back of the lounger a bit
more and settled in to read about the new adventures of Scarlett O'Hara. A few
minutes later the cordless phone rang. It was Alex, calling from his car.
"Hi hon. What's up?" I told him what I was doing and he chuckled.
"Sounds nice. I wish I could join you."
"What's up with you?" I asked.
"I have to go out to a building site to sort out some kind of problem
and I won't be back in time for supper. I'm on my way home now to grab lunch
before heading out, OK?" I told him fine, I'd see him in fifteen minutes, and
hung up. I then headed back in to grab another glass of wine and to use
the washroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, and for the first time in
a long time really liked what I saw. Yes I thought, no doubt affected by the
wine already, not bad at all. I went back outside.
I don't know how it started, but I found myself thinking about Eric
again. I think it must have been the combination of the hot sun making my
skin tingle, the cool spray of the mist bottle, and the wine. It was
different this time, though. I felt no guilt about thinking about Eric or
about my torment during the past week. After all, don't all women have
fantasies? I felt better about the whole thing this morning. As much as I may
have wanted it, nothing had become of it, and now I was going to make an
effort to stay away from Eric and revitalize my marriage. As the combination
of wine, sun, and fantasy worked on me I began to get that feeling in the
pit of my stomach again and gradually another wetness began to mix with the
sweat and spray around my crotch. I began to wonder if maybe, just maybe if
Alex saw me like this he'd break down and do to me what I've been wanting
him to do for a long time.
A couple of minutes later I heard Alex's car door slam. Right on, I
thought, and placed my legs on the deck on either side of the lounger to
open my thighs a bit. I heard his steps come around the side of the house
and climb the steps to the deck. I closed my eyes.
"Hey lover," I said. "How about coming over and rubbing some baby
oil onto the spots on my back I can't reach."
I heard him clear his throat and I looked up, over my sunglasses. It
wasn't Alex standing there at all, it was Eric.
******************************************************************************
This really is classic. You have to admit, I did this pretty well.
At around 11:00 that morning I called Eric at work to give him the same
story I gave to Deb, that I was going out of town for the rest of the day.
I told him that I wasn't going to be able to make the ball game that night so
he was going to have to go over to my house at lunchtime to grab the
gear for the team (I keep all of the bats, balls, bases, etc.). I told him
to go straight around to the deck because that would be where Deb was, and
if she was wearing her Walkman headphones she wouldn't hear the doorbell.
He quickly agreed, and I hung up laughing. I had to wait a couple of minutes
before calling Deb so I could get over my giggles. This was so easy. Any
way, after a few minutes I called Deb - you already know how that call went.
After that it was a simple matter of waiting in the parking lot of the
local arena until Eric's car drove by, waiting for a few extra minutes, and
then making my second call to Deb.
******************************************************************************
I was mortified. There I was, wet from sweat and water spray, lying
exposed under Eric's gaze. I might as well have been naked for all the good
the bathing suit did. I quickly snapped my knees together and sat up in one
motion and looked around for something to cover up with, to no avail. I slowly
looked back at him, standing there in his khaki shorts and t-shirt. My eyes
were just the right height to notice a rapidly growing bulge in his khakis.
"Eric!" I exclaimed. "You startled me! I'm expecting Alex home any
minute."
"Yeah, I know," he said. He called me to come by and grab the gear
for the game tonight. I expected to meet him here." He paused. "I didn't
mean to startle you."
"No problem," I said, remembering my rather intense fantasy of a
few minutes ago and flushing.
He looked at my near-empty glass of wine. "You mind if I grab some
of that while I'm waiting?" he asked.
I hesitated slightly before standing up. 'What the hell', I thought.
'He's already seen it'. I walked past him into the kitchen, his eyes
following me all the time. This would have been the perfect opportunity to
grab my cover-up, but I decided not to, for whatever reason. I grabbed him
a glass and the bottle of wine from the fridge and walked back out, walking
with a bit more sway to my hips then I usually do. I had just finished
filling both glasses when the phone rang. Alex again.
"Hi hon. Listen, I had to run back to the office for some blueprints
so I'm not going to have a chance to come home before heading out."
"OK", I said. "See you later."
"Eric is supposed to be coming over to grab the baseball equipment.
Is he there yet?"
"No," I lied, although don't ask me why I did.
"When he comes, tell him sorry I couldn't be there and give him the
gear. It's in the shed, OK?"
"OK," I replied. "Bye." I hung up.
"Alex isn't going to make it," I told Eric.
"That's OK, I've got lots of time. I'll just sit back and enjoy this
wine for a bit. Do you mind?"
I didn't, but I also knew he couldn't stay. I had to make him leave
somehow.
"The gear's in the shed. Alex said to apologize for not being here.
I'd give you a hand, but..." I made a gesture at my attire.
"Yeah, I noticed." He definitely had a smoldering look now. Oh God,
I think I'm in trouble.
"That's the last of the wine, too."
"I feel like I'm being given a hint", he said.
"Well, no sense wasting valuable tan time", I said.
"Speaking of which, do you still need oil on those hard to reach
places?" I did, but I wasn't sure if I should let him do it. I remembered
the feel of his hands the night before.
I hesitated, took a deep breath, and then said "Sure. Just be careful
you don't get it all over the strings of my bathing suit."
He picked up the bottle of oil and moved over behind me. I sat forward
on the lounger so he could sit on it behind me, and prepared myself for the
touch of his hands. I jumped when he touched me.
"Jesus, your hands are cold!" Nice cover, I thought.
"Sorry," he said. "Must be from holding on to the wine glass." He knew
why I jumped.
His hands *were* cooler than my skin and my nipples once more came
to life. Good thing he couldn't see them this time. Slowly he rubbed the oil
over my back, but after a few moments he made an exasperated sound.
"Look," he said. "I'm having a real problem keeping this stuff away
from these strings for your suit. Do you mind if I untie the one that goes
around your back? Just make sure you hold the front in place 'til I'm done."
"Sure, go ahead," I heard my mouth say before my brain could react.
I felt him pull the tie loose and then the pressure on my breasts relaxed. I
was holding my almost-empty wine glass in one hand and holding my bathing
suit top sort of in place with my other hand and forearm while he rubbed
his hands up and down my now-naked back. I was sure the sides of my breasts
were exposed.
"This is working much better. Do you want me to rub for a while?
After all, I owe you one."
"Mmmmmmm," I murmured, not trusting my voice.
"I'll take that as a yes."
He continued to rub up and down, and gradually his hands would work
their way over onto my ribcage and rub up and down my sides. It felt
wonderful. I was terrified but I couldn't bring myself to stop him. Finally
his hands began to make incidental contact with the sides of my breasts,
and soon the sides of my breasts were getting as much attention as the rest
of my back. I began to wish other parts of my body were getting similar
attention.
I honestly couldn't say if if I let my hand drop away from the front
of my suit or he moved his hand under mine. Maybe it was a simultaneous
motion. Whatever it was, Eric began giving both my breasts a lot of attention.
When he pulled me back towards him I didn't resist. In fact, all resistance
had melted away with his hands. I couldn't stop myself. My breasts ached
and my nipples were on fire. My pussy was another furnace altogether. He
pulled the rest of my top over my head and threw it on the deck, and I turned
to kiss him. I moaned as his tongue probed my mouth and his hand ran over
my breasts, catching my nipples between his fingers and gently rolling and
pinching them. The heat between my legs began to work it's way up my navel.
He half turned and lowered me down so the back of my head was resting on
his thigh and lowered his mouth to my nipple while his hand worked my other
breast. My breath was coming in short gasps and my hips began to involuntarily
gyrate. In ever-expanding circles his hand moved down my belly until they
touched the cloth of my bathing suit bottoms. I gasped in anticipation but
the next contact was with my thigh, drawing it up towards him, opening my
legs. The other leg followed suit of it's own volition. Then, only then, did
he brush my swollen cunt with his hand, fanning the flames. Another touch
followed, and another, until he was gently massaging. I was sobbing as waves
of pleasure radiated through my body, waiting for the ultimate release. The
cloth covering my pussy was pulled aside exposing my most private parts to
him for the first time, and he ran a finger up and down my wet slit.
"My God," he breathed. "Beautiful, so beautiful." He leaned over
slightly so one hand could manipulate my clit while he slipped one, and then
two fingers into my cunt. The volcano in the pit of my stomach finally
exploded and I cried out as my body finally released itself. I grabbed his
wrist with both hands and held tightly onto it as my hips bucked and rocked,
wildly shoving my pussy against his hand over and over until I thought I
would pass out. After what seemed hours the waves receeded enough to at
least allow me to breathe. Eric lowered his mouth to mine to kiss me gently
and passionately, gently massaging my breasts with hands covered by my
slick wetness. For some reason the idea of that re-ignited the fire pit
in my belly.
"Your turn", I whispered, turning over. He lifted slightly to allow
me to pull down his khakis exposing his magnificent member. It was red and
*hard*, long shaft curving slightly up toward his belly-button capped with
a swollen purple head. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I
lowered my mouth to it almost reverently, tasting the tip and running
my tongue down the length of it and back up. He moaned softly the first time
I enclosed it with my mouth and lowered my head until the tip tickled the
back of my throat. I was genuinely sorry I had never learned to deep throat,
but I had never had the desire before this.
He smelled wonderful, his cologne mixing with the smell of his cock
and the faint odor of his persperation. I tightened my mouth around his
shaft and began to fuck him with my mouth, causing his moans to come more
frequently. I've never thought I was that good at giving head, but I guess
Eric liked it well enough.
I was lying on my stomach with one arm around Eric's back and the
other on his thigh. Most of my weight was on my elbow and my knees, my legs
together and bent at the knees. The effect of this was to cause my bum to
stick up a little, and Eric's hand soon worked it's way down to again
find the slick wetness between my legs. I gave a couple of moans myself and
opened my knees slightly to give him better access. A few more minutes of
sucking on his cock, and then he gently lifted my head off his lap and
moved around to position himself behind me. His wonderful cock glistened, but
probably no more than my cunt. He stood astride my calves and bent over to
slide off my bathing suit bottoms, but I stopped him as he began to slide them
over my ass.
"No, wait," I gasped. "Not here. Inside." He slipped his khakis back
on and ran into the bathroom to grab me a towel to wrap around myself so I
could stand up. I led him into the house and downstairs to the hot tub, which
wasn't really that hot in the middle of the summer. Still, it was bathwater-
warm, and we quickly dropped whatever clothes we were wearing and got in.
****************************************************************************
Whew. Hot yet? I'll tell you, you should have been watching it. A
truly wonderful performance up to this point, with the best yet to come.
End Of Part II
|
|
