An Imperfect Past

Another old story - from the days when videos still existed. I 'borrowed' the title from a Jack Vettriano painting. The painting inspired this story so it seemed only fair to use the same title.

The video ended and the screen went blank as the recording came to an end. Edward stirred, slowly refocusing on his surroundings, the drawn blinds, a cigarette smouldering, long forgotten in the ashtray beside him, a large glass of brandy barely touched, his shirt open, tie pulled to one side, trousers unzipped, his chest splattered with his own semen, his now flaccid cock lay in his hand.

He was breathing slowly, in control, not like before when first anger, then shock and lust had filled his head and body. The smell of his leather armchair mingled with that of his cum, he liked it. Licking his lips, he closed his eyes and a smile flitted across his face.

The sound of the front door slamming closed downstairs startled him slightly, Susannah was back. A good 10 minutes before she looked for any sign of him though. Edward pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his chest. He did it slowly, lust and anger confusing him again. He downed the brandy in one gulp, wincing as it burned a path to his stomach - cheap shit! Why couldn't she even get the good stuff? Christ knows they could afford it. Gripping the arms of the chair, he pulled himself up and tucked his shirt in, tried to straighten his tie and decided he needed another cigarette before facing her. Disgust slowly seeped into his consciousness, disgust for himself. He took a deep drag on the cigarette he'd just lit. How could he be so aroused by the film? Then felt his cock twitching as he thought about it again.

Susannah slammed the door behind her. Another day over! Why was it such hard work dealing with the staff? And Edward never lifted a finger to help. It was his bloody business as well and yet he hardly ever visited the place... Fortunately there were plenty of mugs out there, willing to spend a fortune on the latest new age treatments so business was going well.

Staff and Edward, no Edward and staff, definitely in that order. She would have to put her foot down with him. What kind of man was he anyway? She stalked into the opulent kitchen. Thank God Mrs Jones had been in today, at least the place looked respectable. The Proctors were coming for drinks at 8. Throwing her Gucci bag onto the oak table, she opened the refrigerator and peered in, she needed a drink before 8 and the half finished bottle of Chablis would do for starters.

"Ha!" she exclaimed to herself as she mulled over her thoughts.

"Edward, a man? That was a joke! Where the Hell was he anyway? No doubt got his head stuck in a book in his study."

The chilled Chablis did nothing to soothe her frayed nerves as it slid into her empty stomach.

"Hmmm, food would be good, a small snack before the guests arrive."

In the refrigerator, there were some canapés and other essentials delivered by the catering service this afternoon. They wouldn't miss a couple.

Susannah slumped into a sturdy chair by the table, munching away at some king prawns and planning what she would wear that evening.

Edward watched her quietly from the hall, smiling again. He would enjoy this retribution. How many times had she belittled him, in private and in public? She'd never do it again.

"Darling, you're home at last," he called pleasantly as he entered the kitchen.

His voice made her jump, the crystal goblet holding her Chablis fell and the wine spilled over the table.

"For Christ's sake Edward," she barked at him, standing swiftly to get a cloth.

"It's only wine Susannah. There's plenty more where that came from," he soothed, taking her hand as she pushed past him.

Trying to pull away, her eyes hardened.

"Edward," she warned.

"Come on darling, I want to show you something."

"What on earth are you playing at? The Proctors will be here in a few hours or have you forgotten, as usual? I need to shower and change. Working full time can be exhausting you know. Or perhaps you wouldn't," she sneered.

"Actually, I have been working. Remember you asked me to review security? Well, I've found something you should see," his voice became colder and the grip on her wrist tightened.

"I asked you to do that fucking months ago Edward. I assumed it was finished."

"No more talking just now. Come on," he pulled at her and she resisted.

"Just tell me what it is for God's sake."

"No, I think you need to see it. My study, now."

Susannah looked closely at him, noting how his pupils were dilated, how his mouth was set into a thin determined line. She'd not seen him so agitated in years. Relenting, she let him guide her upstairs and into his study. The room smelled a little fusty; there was something in the air mixing with the cigarette smoke and leather.

"Don't you ever open the window in here Edward?"

"Sit down," he ordered, pointing to his chair and ignoring the question.

Her patience wore thin again.

"Edward, I simply do not have time for these games," she snapped.

He grasped her shoulders and put his face close to hers. He'd been drinking brandy; she could smell it on his breath. Pushing her towards the chair with a strength neither of them had experienced before, he growled the order at her again and forced her into the chair, holding her down, one hand on her shoulder.

"Edward, I -"

"Shut up! Watch," he interrupted harshly, pushing play on the remote control.

The screen flickered into life.

At once, Susannah recognised one of the treatment rooms from the spa. A security video, she hadn't even realised they were installed in there.

There was a woman lying face down on the bed, covered with a luxurious towel, relaxing in the warmth, listening to the soft music. Again, Susannah tried to stand, but Edward's hand gripped her shoulder harder, his fingers biting into her flesh.

"Watch."

One of the masseurs came into shot. It must be an old video; he didn't work there anymore. Susannah had fired him, had to really but it was a shame, he had been very good...

As she watched him rub massage oil into his hands her stomach suddenly dropped.

"Edward, no."

"Watch."

"Darling, let me explain," she tried to stand again, quite unsure what to say next.

"I don't want an explanation. I want you to watch it," his voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

Susannah tried to turn in the chair. He moved rapidly round to face her, knelt in front of her and took her face in his hands roughly.

"Watch it, bitch," he spat at her, surprised by his rising erection caused by the control he was exerting over her.

Scared, she pulled away from him, pushing her head back in the chair, suddenly aware of Edward's hard on against her leg. She closed her eyes.

"At least light me a cigarette and pour me a drink then," she whispered.

She didn't really need to watch, she could remember every detail. When she opened her eyes, Edward was holding a large brandy in front of her face, a lighted cigarette waiting for her. She took them both, drank deeply from the glass and sucked hard on the cigarette. The video played, they watched together.

His hands felt so soft, the room so warm, the oil so sensual. A groan escaped from her lips, almost orgasmic.

John loved that sound, he could feel his erection straining against his tight white uniform trousers. He'd heard rumours about his boss, her marriage and her small indiscretions and he wondered, could he? Dare he? Would she? How could she not? No one else had ever refused, some even came back for more...

Her back was full of tight knows of muscles, working his fingers into her shoulders, she groaned again, shifting beneath his touch. Was it a flinch or a shiver?

Slowly he moved down towards the towel that was covering her buttocks and legs. His fingers skirted the edge and on every pass, slipped lower beneath the towel. Susannah lost herself in the moment, didn't even realise that his strong hands, his thick fingers, caressing her buttocks wasn't part of the regulation massage. It felt so good, relaxing; it was months since she'd felt like this. Resting a hand on the base of her spine, John replenished the oil on his other, then warmed it by placing it on top of the hand on her. He applied a pressure on her, quite firm and the gasp from her spurred him on. He moved the towel so it only covered her calves and pushed her buttocks down, pulling his hands back towards him, he spread them, his mouth dry at the sight of the naked woman prone beneath him.

Gently he slipped a well oiled thumb between her cheeks. As it touched her anus, Susannah's eyes snapped open and her body went rigid. Trying to turn over, he held firm on her back.

"Shhh, Mrs Gibson, satisfaction is guaranteed," he murmured, his Irish brogue instilling a kind of confidence in her.

A million thoughts raced through her mind, but the most forceful one was the one telling her that it felt good, the one telling her how she suddenly was more turned on that she had ever been in her life.

John waited, holding his breath. He'd either be fired on the spot or the little whore would lie there and take it, take him, anywhere and anyhow he wanted. God, he loved all these up tight bitches, one finger up their arse and they were his. How simple could it be?

Susannah felt her cunt get wet, felt her body relax again, he could feel it happen beneath his hands and he breathed again.

"That's right Mrs Gibson," he whispered. "Just relax, you'll never have a massage this good again."

He moved down the bed, slowly dragging his fingers over Susannah's pert, gym toned arse and onto her firm thighs. Starting above her knees, he continued with a standard massage, confusing her. Had she imagined his touch? The heat and wetness in her cunt told a different story.

John worked on her thighs, moving achingly slowly higher with each stroke, kneading, caressing, making her muscles melt with his touch. From where he was standing, he could see her wet cunt, a smirk passed over his face, she'd taken advantage of the waxing service. Still, Denise's skills were legendary. Nothing better than a smooth, bald cunt, clean, sweet, easy on the tongue. God he wanted to taste it, but he could wait. Control, it was his skill, his speciality. She'd be begging for his tongue to touch her soon enough.

Her inner thighs were soft, just a little less firm, easy to touch, to squeeze. Susannah smiled as she felt his powerful hands touch the soft flesh, so close to where she wanted them, where she needed them. This was the best massage she'd ever had. Suddenly she gasped as his fingers brushed across the skin at her centre. Her wetness and the oil on him made his fingers slip easily over her pussy lips, touching for the briefest moment her hard clitoris. He could feel those lips engorged with blood, she was so hot in there. Full body massage anyone?

He slipped a finger inside her, deep in her cunt, and his thumb up her arse. Not the first time she'd had something in there. He could tell the way she braced against him, the way her hips moved up to meet him.

Susannah whimpered. God, he had thick fingers!

The power John had over her threatened to burst his zip.

"All those muscles that are so often overlooked Mrs Gibson, we'll give them a good work out," he whispered.

He pushed another finger into her, wriggled his thumb, opened and closed his fingers inside her, stretching her. Susannah groaned.

"Oh my God, what are you doing to me?"

"Nothing you don't truly deserve Mrs Gibson," he grinned.

With his free hand, he managed to unbutton and unzip his trousers, a sigh of relief as his cock was released and jumped towards her. Quickly, because he knew the impact, he pulled out from her. Lights twinkled before her closed eyes, her breath stuck in her throat and she did not have any power to resist as his strong hands gripped her hips and turned her onto her back. He smiled at her bald pussy and touched it softly.

"What I wouldn't have given to have watched that happen," he whispered.

She smiled back at him, nervous at seeing him, personalising the feelings.

"Are you going to make love to me?" she asked quietly.

John laughed.

"No Mrs Gibson, I'm going to fuck you. Would that be okay?"

The blood in Susannah's brain raced towards her cunt and a wave of dizziness hit her hard.

"Oh God, yes," she breathed.

He pulled her round, manoeuvring her legs so they were spread in front of him, the tip of his thick cock touching her wet cunt. Thrusting slightly, he teased her, opening her then pulling away.

"Oh, to be in there up to my balls," John thought.

Warm soft flesh moving for him and him alone. The thought almost over powered him. Blinking, he concentrated on her face. Too much make up. Her eyes half closed, lips apart, nostrils flared, not that attractive really, too hard. But it didn't matter, as long as he controlled her body. Lowering his face between her legs, he delicately licked along the sides of her pussy; skin so soft, the taste of her juice so sweet. She squirmed beneath him, pushing her hips to his face, desperate for his tongue to slip inside her. He knew what she wanted of course and so refused. Holding her legs apart with a strong hand on each inner thigh, he licked and sucked, gently, greedily, slicking his tongue over her hard clit, making her tremble and whimper.

Susannah's brain felt like it was spinning still, the lack of oxygen, lack of blood. All she knew was that she was in heaven, the only things that could make the experience any better was if he was inside her. God, to feel him push himself into her, to be impaled by him, powerless at his touch. Exactly what John wanted too. He adored the feeling of a woman's pussy on his lips, the taste, but more the power it gave him. A few minutes more and she'd start to beg, to plead. Her gasps and moans slowly started to take form.

"Please," she whispered, hardly able to think. "Need you inside me," she moaned.

Music to John's ears. Fuck, he wanted to be inside her too, but she'd have to do a better job at asking than that.

He pulled his face away from her and looked into her eyes, they were clouded with lust, unfocused, wet.

"What was that Mrs Gibson?" he grinned.

"Inside me, please."

"What do you want inside you? You have to tell me," he needed her to say the words first.

"You John, I want you inside me," she gasped, thrusting her hips to him.

"Not good enough," he whispered, firmly rolling one of her nipples between his thumb and finger.

Firm enough to be painful, painful enough to be pleasurable. Susannah's eyes opened wide, suddenly bright and focused, pupils dilated, her mind concentrated.

"I want you to fuck me John. I want your beautiful cock buried inside my cunt," she spoke clearly as if issuing an order.

"Not before I get something from you first," another grin split his face.

Couldn't let her even dally with the idea that she was in charge here. Taking her hands, he pulled her up and off the table. She landed heavily in front of him, her legs weak from the excitement. Holding her hips he pulled her close and danced her round so he had his back to the table. A quick movement found him sitting on the table, trousers around his ankles, his cock standing proud. He nodded down at it.

"How much do you want it Mrs Gibson?" he still held her firm by the hips. It was probably just as well, he could feel her swaying.

The words she'd spoken earlier caught in her throat as she stared at his throbbing cock with hunger in her eyes.

"I need you to fuck me."

"And I need you to suck me, I need to feel your mouth, your lips around me," his voice was husky.

Susannah shifted her gaze to his firm and tanned thighs and slowly placed a hand on each one. His skin was soft but she could feel every muscle below it, tense, pulsing. Lowering onto her knees, she took a deep breath. As she reached the floor, her eyes were level with his balls. She moved slowly forwards, parting her lips, moistening them with her tongue until she was close enough to lick the base of his shaft. Her hands rested at the top of his thighs, a thumb pressing into his hips. Arching her neck upwards, she licked along the length of him, reaching the underside of the glistening head and softly teasing it. Her tongue swirled around the top and then she took him in her mouth, hep lips and tongue working in unison to persuade him to fuck her.

John gasped, almost too good, lucky Mr Edwards! She'd done that before. He could feel the fire start in his thighs, moving higher, reaching his belly and lungs before he could react. God knows how but he stopped himself from coming right then in her mouth, spilling his cum down her welcoming throat. He gripped her shoulders and pulled her up roughly from her knees, jumping down off the bed. Her mouth was still open, her lips red, matching the flushed spots on her cheeks. He kissed her then, something he'd never done before to any of the women he'd had in that room, over that table. His fingers twisted in her hair and pulled her face closer as their mouths crushed together, tongues exploring. She tasted of him, he tasted of her.

A moan escaped from Susannah's throat and she moved back from him and saw it, his eyes heavy with lust, the pupils dilated, the irises shining. She could feel the shift in power, he was hers, control was hers. A smile played over her raw lips and she gently stroked down his chest with one finger, down his belly and his thigh then back up, she cupped his balls. His eyes went wider, his lips were parted now, his breath coming in short fast gasps, his mind was empty, no oxygen in there to help. Susannah moved around him, she wanted him to fuck her like he wanted to fuck her. Leaning forwards over the table, she presented her arse to him. John blinked at the sight, the aroma of her arousal working like smelling salts. He grinned and ran a finger down the crease of her arse. It slipped inside her easily, but it wasn't wanted, she squirmed away from him and turned her head.

"Fuck me now," she ordered, pushing herself towards him.

Slowly, he pushed his cock inside her warm, soft and soaking cunt. As it stretched her she gasped, savouring on of the most sensual sensations she had ever experienced. He was big, bigger than any other lover she had taken, but he felt good in there. At last, he was completely in her, she could feel him deep inside, pushing at her, the warmth starting from that point inside her where he was pressing the very end of his cock.

The feel of her warmth on his balls sent a thrill through John that he couldn't ignore. He needed this over, withdrawing fast and entering again fast, he moved within her, his pace never slackening. Susannah gripped the far edge of the table, the towels bunching in her fists. Every time he pounded into her she couldn't help but whimper, softly at first but growing in noise until she was almost screaming with the ecstasy. She pushed back with each stroke and he pulled her too, increasing the force, one hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder, his thumb on the back of her neck, moving in slow, firm circles, habit.

The sensations, the sounds and the smell combined to ignite the fire in them both. Growing inside Susannah's stomach, moving along her body, up to her neck, down her legs until her knees grew weak. John's followed, his breathing becoming even shorter, moans escaping from his mouth. He came first, his movements slowing, becoming less rhythmic. She felt it, the heat of him exploding inside her, triggering her own orgasm. Her cunt spasmed around him, she pushed back against him, not wanting the feeling to end. John still moved inside her, he could feel her muscles as they tightened, her cunt squeezing him until he was drained. His vision returned, so did his mind. God, he'd never lost it like that before; he should pull out of her but the warmth inside her felt so good. Gripping her hips with both hands he pushed into her again, she groaned happily and then Susannah's senses came back to her.