Naked Lies Read online

  "Coming!" Den cried for the second time, his sperm jetting from his orgasming knob, bathing my snaking tongue. I didn't swallow this time. In a dream-like state, I savoured his salty offering as my mouth filled and overflowed. On and on his sperm pumped from his throbbing knob, oozing between my wet lips and his solid shaft to run down my chin.

  I was sure that he wouldn't be able to fuck me now and spunk up my drenched cunt. I didn't want him there, in my cunt, and yet... Again, in my confusion, I didn't know what I wanted. As he drained his swinging balls, he clutched my head, gently rocking his hips as the last of his sperm oozed from his sex slit. My cunt was wet, hot, contracting - I didn't want him there.

  "God, you're something else!" he gasped, finally slipping his cock out of my mouth as I swallowed hard. Licking my lips, I sat back on my heels and wiped the sperm from my chin as he tugged his jeans up. Was that it? I pondered. Twice, he'd come in my mouth, he'd thrashed me, used and humiliated me. Was that it?

  "Now what?" I whispered, my face flushing as I looked up at him through my matted hair. My master.

  "Now it's your turn to come," he directed.

  "No, I..."

  "You're going to come like you've never come before," he grinned, lying on the floor on his back. "Come and kneel over my face with your juicy cunt pressed against my mouth."

  My vaginal muscles tightened as I pictured myself in the lewd position. How could I behave like this? I wondered as I lifted my skirt and knelt with my knees astride his head, my dripping vaginal crack gaping above his mouth. What was possessing me to act as a wanton whore? Blackmail, or arousal? I shuddered as I felt his hot breath against my most intimate flesh.

  "You're sopping wet!" he chuckled, grabbing my hips and pulling me down. "Christ, your cunt juice is pouring out!" My sex lips meeting his mouth, his tongue driving into my hot vaginal sheath, I gasped as the beautiful sensations coursed through my pelvis. Gazing down at his dark hair as he lapped up my flowing juices, I covered his head with my skirt, trying to blot out the adulteress. But I couldn't erase the magical sensations, deny the immense pleasure his sweeping tongue was bringing me. The walls watched me, my adultery. Would they tell?

  Desperately trying not to cry out as he mouthed and licked my erect clitoris, I tossed hy head back as the sensations built and permeated my contracting womb. Surge after surge of pre-orgasmic pleasure emanating from my pulsating clitoris, wave after wave of pure sexual ecstasy rolled through me. I couldn't begin to comprehend the immense pleasure, the fantastic sensations gripping my quivering body as my juices of lust flowed from my hot sex sheath. Although I tried to hold my orgasm back, to relish the beautiful pulses of sex erupting within my clitoris, the explosion inevitably came. My mouth open, gasping, my eyes rolling, I sank into a pool of exquisite sexual pleasure as my climax seized me.

  Rocking my hips, my inflamed sex valley gliding over his mouth, his sweeping tongue, I sustained my multiple orgasm. As if in a dream, I was completely oblivious to my surroundings as the intensity of my climax became almost unbearable. Never had I experienced such a heavenly, almost spiritual state of consciousness, such complete and utter fulfilment of both body and mind.

  My head lolling forward, I lifted my skirt and gazed at Den, my outer lips enveloping his wet mouth as he sucked out my orgasm. My juices bubbling within my vaginal sheath, streaming over his face, my cunt rhythmically contracting, I thought I'd die as the wondrous sensations peaked again, casting me into a swirling sea of sexual utopia. Waves of pleasure crashing over me, drowning me, my burning cunt became the centre of my trembling body, the epitome of my very being.

  At last, my orgasm began to wane, leaving me quivering in its wake, trembling uncontrollably as my juices decanted and my clitoris receded. Falling to one side, my dripping cunt vacating Den's sated mouth, I lay sprawled out on the floor, a trembling heap of limbs as I drifted gently down from my sexual heaven.

  "How was it?" he asked as he climbed to his feet and wiped my orgasmic juices from his mouth. How was it? Wonderful, heavenly, exquisite... Perverted, adulterous, profane... "You'd like me to fuck your tight cunt now, wouldn't you?" he grinned, towering over my sated body. "You'd like my stiff cock spunking up your tight cunt."

  His crude words careered through the wreckage of my marriage strewn around my mind. Images of Mat welled from the rubble, his accusing eyes gazing at me, his face scowling. A voice emanated from the destruction, a familiar goading voice. Let him take you. Fuck your cunt. Were my thoughts speaking to me?

  "Well? Do you want me to spunk up your wet cunt?"

  "No!" I screamed above the goading. "No!"

  He turned and left the room, the back door slamming shut as he returned to his own house, satisfied, fulfilled. I lay there, unable to move as my breathing slowed and the stark reality of my wanton act seeped into my mind. I felt my juices oozing from my hot cunt, trickling down between my stinging buttocks. I tasted the sperm lingering on my lips, recalling his penis fucking my mouth. I was the ultimate adulteress.

  My fingers pulling and twisting my drenched inner lips, I sat bolt upright as I heard a noise. Had it come from the kitchen? Had Den returned to fuck me? Dragging my weak body up, I stood on my quivering legs and tugged my skirt down. As a rustling sound drifted into the room from the hall, I froze. Still dazed from my incredible orgasm, I listened to the deafening silence. Was my pained mind playing tricks on me?

  "I'm imagining things," I murmured, tentatively walking to the door and peering into the hall. Creeping into the kitchen, I noticed that the back door was wide open. I hadn't imagined hearing Den slam it shut. The catch couldn't have caught properly, I surmised, conveniently, obliquely.

  Closing and locking the door, I took a deep breath, again wondering at my lewd behaviour, my wanton act of infidelity. What was done was done, I reflected, my trembling hand grabbing the kettle. I didn't want coffee but it was something to do, a distraction for my torrid thoughts. I didn't know what I wanted. A shower to wash away the guilt? Fresh clothes to quell the odour of adulterous sex?

  "Hi, Jane!" Mat was smiling as he appeared in the kitchen doorway.

  "Mat!" I cried, more out of fright than fear of him discovering what I'd done. "Christ, you made me jump!"

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Are you OK? You look awfully..."

  "Why shouldn't I be OK?" I snapped, my guilt rising as I felt my vaginal juices coursing down my inner thighs like rivers of cream.

  "You look flushed."

  "I've been exercising," I replied stupidly, my chest tightening with anxiety as I imagined him catching me kneeling over Den's face, crying out in orgasm.

  "I rang last night, but there was no reply."

  "I went to bed early."

  "I rang at six, at seven, at..."

  "In that case, the phone must have been out of order. How was your trip?"

  As he told me about his journey, the hotel, the meeting, I wondered what telltale signs I'd left in the lounge. Had Den taken his leather belt? Was the carpet stained? Were my panties still on the floor? Mat's words drifted past me, floating to the ceiling as I sidled from the room. I couldn't listen to Mat - my only concern was for Den, my wet panties, evidence of the thrashing, the mouth fucking, the pussy eating. In the lounge, I grabbed my forlorn panties and looked about me. The armchair was in the centre of the room, the cushion wet with my tears.

  "Are you sure you're OK?" Mat persisted as he joined me. "You look terribly guilty."

  "Guilty?" I echoed, pushing the chair back and adjusting the cushion. "Why should I look guilty?"

  "I don't know, you tell me."

  "I'm not guilty of anything, don't be so silly!" I trilled, my stinging buttocks cruelly reminding me of the thrashing.

  "What are you doing with your knickers?"

  "I... I'm about to do the washing," I smiled, suddenly recalling the photograph Den had dropped through the letterbox.

  Where had I left the incriminating evidence? I wondered fearfully. On the h
all table? In the lounge? Trying not to panic, my eyes embraced the room, unable to remember. Mat was watching me, suspicion in his eyes as he surveyed my dishevelled hair. But he couldn't have known what I'd done. Den had left by the back door, and I'd been in the kitchen when Mat had arrived. No way could he know of my treachery. Unless the walls had told him.

  "Your hair's a right mess!" he laughed. "What on earth have you been up to?"

  "I told you, I've been exercising."

  "You look as if you've just finished a marathon."

  "I feel as if I've just finished a marathon! Are you going to work or..."

  "Yes, I have to go in for the rest of the day. There are reports to complete and a mountain of paperwork to wade through. By the way, I thought we might invite Den round for a meal this evening."

  I felt my heart leap into my mouth. I couldn't sit at the table with Den and Mat! I had to come up with an excuse, and quickly! As Mat helped himself to a banana from the fruit bowel, my stomach sank. I watched him eating the fruit, recalling my wanton masturbation session, savouring the hot, sticky phallus... The nightmare was escalating!

  "Not tonight, Mat," I finally replied.

  "Why not?"

  "Well, I..."

  "Den's OK. He's a nice chap, you should get to know him."

  "I do know him." Intimately!

  "No, I mean, get to know him properly. He is our neighbour, after all."

  "I really don't feel like entertaining, Mat."

  "I'll tell you what, I'll do the cooking. How's that sound?"

  It sounded dreadful, but worse, where was the bloody photograph? I couldn't take much more mental harassment. I had to come up with an excuse for not having Den to dinner. But the priority was to find my obscene portrait before Mat did. The hurt would kill him.

  "It's not the cooking," I proffered, searching the room. "It's just that I... I want us to have an evening together, Mat. You were away all last night and..."

  "To be honest, I wanted Den's advice on some financial matters. Having him round for dinner would give me the opportunity to talk to him."

  "I suppose so," I finally conceded, realizing that there was no way out of it.

  "Great. Well, I'd better get going. I'll be home around six."

  "OK, I'll see you later."

  "I'll pop into Den's and tell him."

  "All right, I'll see you this evening."

  As Mat left, I held my hand to my head in anguish. I felt as if I was imprisoned between the two men - Mat on one side and Den on the other. How could I play the smiling hostess and sit at the same table as my husband and my blackmailer? But I'd do it, I decided. I'd play my role to perfection and not allow Den to get to me. He'd quietly threaten and tease, I knew, but I'd not allow him to rile or upset me.

  I felt that things were changing as I searched for the photograph. Strangely, I seemed to be rising above the situation, almost delighting in the illicit sex and the danger. I was changing, changing so much that I found myself looking forward to the evening. Den would try and embarrass me, but I'd play him at his own game and humiliate him. I might even wear my short skirt without panties and flash my cunt at him when Mat wasn't looking. God, what was I thinking? Was I going insane?

  I searched everywhere for the elusive photograph, without success. Reckoning that Den had taken it, my stomach somersaulted as I observed the bananas in the fruit bowel. My cunt wetter than ever, aching for attention, I inhaled deeply. This was no time for masturbation! Somehow, I had to turn my thoughts away from sex.

  I busied myself throughout the day, laying the table in the dining room, taking a shower and dressing in a very short skirt and loose blouse for the evening. A powerful sense of wickedness gripped me as I practised sitting in the armchair with my skirt up and my thighs slightly parted. My vaginal crack displayed, I was innocent in my innocence.

  I was going to be in control that evening. With my knickerless cunt, I was going to call the shots. Den would obviously have made his plans, but he'd have the shock of his life when I flashed my pussy slit at him at every opportunity. He'd become confused, wondering who was supposed to be blackmailing whom, why I was deliberately placing my marriage on the line by taking such risks with Mat around. Elation, as well as arousal, gripped me.

  With the time nearing six, I was ready. I'd thought Den would arrive before Mat, just to tease me, but I was wrong. Mat turned up early, somewhat over excited about the evening, although I didn't know why. I finally concluded that he was looking forward to some neighbourly financial enlightenment. I was looking forward to some neighbourly excitement.

  Mat praised me, my efforts in the dining room and the way I'd dressed. Of course, he had no idea that I wasn't wearing any knickers! I'd not bothered to wear a bra, either. Leaning forward slightly when Mat wasn't looking, my blouse falling open, my elongated nipples were clearly visible. I felt horny as never before. My cunt wetting, my vaginal juice creaming my inner thighs, I needed to come.

  I might even pounce on Mat when Den had gone, squat over his face and bring myself off, I decided. Strangely, the thought of having sex with Mat after Den didn't worry me any more'. I'd thought that I'd not be able to face him after my adultery, let alone have sex with him, but now... Now, I was in control!

  Den made his appearance at half-past six, wielding a bunch of flowers. He grinned at me, licking his lips and rubbing his crotch as Mat poured the wine. He was a bastard, but I had plans to bring him down! My hands trembling, a thrill running down my spine, I decided to bring up the subject of relationships as we relaxed in the lounge before dinner.

  "You're not married are you, Den?" I asked, smiling sweetly.

  "No, the idea never appealed to me," he replied, obviously wondering at the nature of my game.

  "Don't you have a lady friend?"

  "No, I... There is one young lady who I... Well, you know how it is. Our relationship is purely sexual. She needs me and I need her."

  "Purely sexual?" I echoed, parting my thighs and displaying my crack to Den as Mat switched the hi-fi on.

  "Er... Yes, I..."

  "Is she local?"

  "She lives nearby."

  "Unattached?"

  "She... Yes, she is. So, what do you do for a living?"

  "I don't work," I purred, delighting in the cat and mouse game as he leaned forward, focusing on my excited pussy as I parted my thighs further.

  "So, what do you do all day?"

  "I keep myself busy."

  "Jane keeps the garden nice," Mat broke in. "She's a dab hand."

  "Yes, I can see that!" Den smiled as I closed my legs. "Your garden looks really nice."

  "I'll check the food," Mat said, leaving the room.

  Reclining with my thighs wide apart, my buttocks over the edge of the chair, I blatantly showed Den all I had between my legs. He frowned, gazing at me, my gaping sex slit, obviously wondering why I was taking such a risk. He didn't understand me, my game. I didn't understand myself!

  "What are you trying to do?" he finally asked softly.

  "Trying to do?" I echoed, licking my lips provocatively.

  "You're a fool, behaving like this with Mat around."

  "Behaving like what?"

  "You know damn well what I mean."

  "I'm sorry, Den, I have no idea what you're talking about."

  As Mat opened the door, I hurriedly sat upright and closed my legs. Although Den had more than enough on me to ruin my marriage, I felt that he had nothing on me now. There was no way he'd wreck any chance he had of getting his hands up my skirt, his fingers up my juicy cunt! Although he had the evidence of my debauchery, I was sure that he'd no longer blackmail me.

  Den tried to rile me during the meal, but I wasn't having any of it. Laughing at his witty comments and giving him as good as he gave me, there was no way he was going to win. It wasn't until Mat left the room and Den pulled a photograph from his jacket pocket that I realised that I'd assumed a false position of power. Propping the picture up against the
Liebfraumilch, he grinned.

  "You see, I do have photographs of you standing naked in my lounge with my fingers up your wet cunt," he whispered triumphantly. I stared in horror at the incriminating picture. My face clearly visible, his fingers deep inside my sex sheath, it was obvious that I was enjoying every minute of his intimate attention. If Mat were to see it, he'd surely kill me!

  I'd been a fool to believe that I could win over Den. He was a ruthless blackmailer who'd stop at nothing to have his evil way with me. Fear flooded me, washing away all my newly acquired sense of power. My face flushing, burning as Mat returned, I didn't know what to do. Grabbing the photograph, Den slipped it into his pocket, grinning victoriously at me as Mat sat down.

  I was doomed, I knew, as the men chatted about money, stocks and shares. My marriage, my life... Everything was doomed! Although I still reckoned that Den wouldn't reveal the dreadful truth, he had me exactly where he wanted me. That ridiculous magazine photograph meant nothing now. My dressing gown, suspender belts, panties, the tape... Den had all he needed to bring me crashing down in the form of one lousy photograph!

  "Do you know what I forgot to get?" Mat asked me.

  "No, what's that?"

  "Cigars. I meant to pick some up on my way home."

  "It doesn't matter," I smiled. "I'm sure Den won't mind going without."

  "I'll go and get some, it'll only take a few minutes."

  "No, don't bother, Mat," I blurted out, knowing what Den would do the minute we were alone.

  "It's no bother. You both have a chat, I won't be long."

  My stomach churned as Mat left the room and Den grinned at me. I heard the front door slam shut. I was alone with my blackmailer. Yet again, I'd played the complete fool. He knew that I wasn't wearing panties, that my pussy was naked, easy prey. What had happened to my plans? I wondered as he stood up and moved around the table. What the hell had happened to my plans of revenge, of power?