This finalises my 'summer series.
Although, of course, the characters have been changed the events as described broadly did happen.
I can hardly wait to find out what summer 016 has in store for me.
Thanks for reading this.
Love Christina xx
PS I would love to hear from you with your thoughts on this series.
*****
Summers are for Decadence Part 3.
I get interrupted as William fucks me.
I was fumbling with his belt and zip. I had stroked, rubbed and caressed his hardness outside his thin, wool, suit trousers for some time. Now the need to feel his bareness, hold it in my hand and press it against me became paramount in my mind.
He helped me and suddenly everything was open and I was holding his cock. The cock that had fucked me several times all those years ago, the cock that I had watched sink into my work colleague Jane and, yes, the cock that had subsequently fucked her so many times when she was his wife. I don't why or how, but the thought came into my mind as I greedily ran my hands up and down its sturdy length, 'This is the cock that had fucked the cunt that I had finger fucked in this house just a few days ago.'
It was all happening. Nothing was reserved, everything was in play; his cock, my tits and all of our bodies. He fiddled my trousers undone and squirmed his hand inside. He rubbed me momentarily outside my Janet Regar knickers, but then quickly he got his hand inside them. It was right on me, right on my wetness, right on my lips. Fuck that was good. I thought as his fingers slid into me, ran along my slit and then found that bud of such wondrous pleasures. He was doing precisely the same thing to me that his ex-wife had done to me. What a fucking turn on that was.
"Come to bed, William," I whispered in his ear.
"Fuck that," he croaked back sliding my trousers and panties down in one go. He turned me round and pushed the top of my body forward. "I'm gonna fuck you here, right here and now."
"Oh shit, yes," I groaned as my bare breasts were squashed against the cold granite worktop.
The idea of being fucked in my own kitchen, partially dressed, my knickers and panties round my knees, my bra still on and my tits pulled out of it turned me on so much. Me like that and him still wearing a white dress shirt with his boxers and trousers in a pool on the floor, presented such a marvellously sordid and wanton situation.
Then he fucked me. Again there was no ceremony, but then none was needed. I was bent over the work surface my breasts were squashed against it, my legs were open. I was ready and totally available. And he did exactly what I wanted him to do; he fucked me hard and quick and dirty.
I felt totally embarrassed at work on the Monday after my time with William. Jane and I had a financial and operations review meeting so I was with her from the seven thirty breakfast meeting through the day long sessions with our team.
I couldn't concentrate and contributed little to the long, at times boring, but absolutely essential series of meetings. My mind was in a whirl of conflicting views and thoughts. When I looked at Jane, I saw her naked, I saw her full breasts, bloated nipples and wet, velvety pussy. I imagined my mouth on her tits and hers on my nipples. I recalled the feeling of her warm wetness round my fingers and the shuddering sensations of her fingers driving deep inside me. But then the time with William would fill my mind. Us tearing at the others clothes in my kitchen, my tits yanked out of my bra, his cock in my hand inside his boxers and my knickers round my knees. Me bent over the work surface with him fucking me from behind as I gradually collapsed in a sobbing wreck of orgasmic delight and sexual shame.
I wondered where both my affairs would go? I also wondered why I had become quite such a bitch and why I had such a need for this odd buzz? Why I had reverted to wanting to have sex with another female again after all that time and why it had been with my best friend and business partner? Why had I let William keep phoning me, why I had exchanged increasingly flirty and intimate texts, why had I let him come to me in my moment of desolation and, of course, why had I let him fuck me? Why, why, why was the word that kept reverberating round my brain. I had no answers, other than, 'Well it is summer!' I mused philosophically.
The weekend had been quite amazing. He had stayed Friday night. We went out to dinner on Saturday and he stayed again. He had plans on Sunday so I was alone, but went and saw some friends in Oxford.
After the initial fervid sex in the kitchen, he prepared lunch, which we ate on the secluded terrace in our back garden.
"See almost as good as Villa d'este," he joked, sitting across from me in a white tee shirt and shorts I had lent him from Luke' wardrobe. I was wearing a black bikini bottom and yellow tee.
"Not such a good view though."
"True, but better sex."
I didn't reply, it sort felt disloyal to criticise Luke, which was odd considering I had just committed adultery and most probably would do so again very shortly.
"Wasn't it?" He persisted."
"You may think that, but I could never comment," I smiled using a saying I recalled from a book or play.
After the sex in the kitchen, we had showered, separately, dressed and had some champagne. As he prepared the lunch I made some calls to my parents to let them know we hadn't gone to Italy. Cunningly, it was also to ensure that none of them would be likely to pop into my home for any reason, as they did sometimes. I was becoming sly, I thought, the subterfuge of an affair thrilling and disappointing me simultaneously.
It was a lovely day and sitting under the wisteria covered pagoda was really quite romantic. Actually, with our recent, extreme sex still fresh in my mind, with William around me, the way I was dressed, I hadn't bothered with a bra, and the prospects of what probably lie ahead it was more highly erotic than romantic.
The Monday meetings dragged on and on. I became bored and more morose, I snapped at people, but asked few questions. I was tired, confused and full of guilt. I'm not sure whether those feelings were relieved or strengthened when around four Jane whispered.
"Anna's away for the night."
I had told her about Luke when she was in Edinburgh and this morning when we'd met I had let her know the bastard was still away.
"So what did you do over the weekend?" She had asked after telling me about hers with Anna in Scotland.
"Oh not much I was pretty pissed off with him."
Jane was not one to be judgemental and she rarely criticised anyone, but she did remark.
"You're entitled to, the bastard needs to sort himself out, or someone else will come along."
I nearly said 'That's precisely what William said,' but just managed to bite my tongue in time.
I looked at her and touched the back of her hand as I muttered. "Maybe someone has Jane."
She gripped my hand and whispered back. "Yes Christina, maybe someone has. So what did you do?"
"Oh I picked up a few guys and got myself laid and had a gang bang most of the weekend," I told her joking, feeling that was better than telling plausible lies.
I was gradually being drawn into that world of lies, excuses and subterfuge. I wasn't sure I liked it, but it gave me a tingle.
She smiled. "Now that does make me envious."
