HER STORY OF LUST AND SEX Chapter 7 - To be continued

HER STORY OF LUST AND SEX
Chapter 7 - To be continued



I took my trip to the Far East, pleased just to be away from everyone that I knew for a space of time. I spent two weeks at a Buddhist seminary in the north of Thailand and then a further two weeks taking in the sights of Cambodia and Vietnam where I was surprised to find, even now, such a stark contrast between the previously American influenced Ho Chi Minh City and the northern capital of Hanoi.

The people of the south still referred to Ho Chi Minh but its former colonial name of Saigon and saw themselves as in some way different to their northern cousins.

When I finally, and reluctantly, boarded the plane home I felt refreshed but I had not confronted my demons; all I had done was to push them to the back of my mind.

Once back in London I spent a hectic three days catching up and using some of what I had learnt to help calm my agent who was growing frantic about my growing list of obligations. I assured her that things were back to normal and she was heartened by the news that I was going to be living in the capital after all.

Amongst my correspondence were a number of letters from Mathew. He begged me to return and I found that I had missed him but things had gone too far.

The last letter, dated just two days before my return, made it clear that he read my silence as a refusal. He wrote that he still loved me and that his home would always be open to me. In none of the correspondence did he allude to any sort of improper relationship with Isabel but he did sign off by mentioning that she would not be pursuing her post-graduate studies in Portugal.

I was beginning to think that things were back on an even keel when Claire phoned.

How was Thailand?

Very relaxing how are the States?

Tiring, I don't want to see another hotel or bookshop for quite some time.

Look, Claire, it was nice of you to call but I think it best if we don't contact one another for a while.

I'm sorry to hear you say that. It got lonely in the States, just me and a representative from my publishers. Sure, there were a few dinners thrown in my honor but usually I would wind up back in my room with only my vibrator for company.

Do you know what I thought about while I was masturbating? You, you and your sweet little tongue I'm touching myself right now thinking about it. Do you want to come over?

I put the phone down without another word. In the kitchen I poured myself a glass of wine but my hand was trembling as I brought it to my mouth. I put it down in frustration and snatched my car keys off of the worktop.

I could not shake the idea that she had somehow scored a victory over me and it seemed important to confront her. I wanted her to be clear that I was not skulking away I was ending our relationship on my own terms.

At her front door I took a deep breath and rang the bell. She took a long time to answer and I was at the point of turning away when she finally opened the door. She was dressed in a short to welling robe and holding a tall glass of gin and tonic.

When she saw me she beamed.
I knew you'd come.

Claire, I am here to say goodbye.

She turned back into hall.

Come on in

Claire, I

She was already turning into the living room and, not wanting to appear rude, I followed her closing the door behind me.

On entering the living room I could not help but look through to the dining area where the table sat innocently covered with a flawlessly pressed white cloth. Claire followed my train of thought and, behind me, she gaily admonished.

You naughty girl!

I turned to find her seated in an armchair her robe now discarded. Once again I could not help but be impressed with her nakedness but she seemed heedless as she casually sipped at her drink. Then, as though unwrapping, a gift she opened her legs.

Down on your knees baby!

I felt a now familiar wrench inside as the person I really wanted to be fought with the slut who, once again, began to emerge.

I could smell her from across the room and it was clear that she had not been kidding.

Her pussy looked raw and wet and she had obviously been warming herself up. It was almost like tunnel vision as everything drifted out of focus except for her font which triggered a thirst demanding to be quenched.

I closed the space between us in a numb daze and, like a penitent I went slowly to my knees.

A quick one, just to get started, then we can get comfortable in the bedroom.

True to her word it did not take long. In less than two minutes she reached the climax that she had teasingly denied herself.

Clean me up babe!

I lovingly ran my tongue over her mound where her pubic hair was more unkempt than I remembered it.

Do you like my new look? I'm dating a Frenchman at the moment and he likes things a little more natural.

This reminder that she enjoyed a normal sex life outside of our twisted arrangement was almost like a stab to the heart but I did not stop.

The odd thing is that he's reluctant to go down on me but, now that I have you, that's hardly a problem is it?

She spoke in such an offhand manner, confident that our new relationship was to be ongoing, and I did not have the inner strength to deny her.

Come into the bedroom and get undressed.

I looked up at her. Was she prepared to reciprocate after all? I could not tell as she languidly rose from the chair leaving me to follow.

She sat up on the bed and watched me as I self-consciously took off my clothes and folded them onto the back of a chair.

Come and lie here.

The room itself was predominantly white but in stark contrast to this was the bed itself. It was a large double with a matt black wrought iron headboard.


By nutbuster