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."
That evening we went further. After undressing and then lying on Jane's bed and fingering each other to lovely, long and quite powerful orgasms, we did what we both most wanted to do and what we knew was inevitable.
"Ok?" She had whispered as her head slithered down my body, with her lips planting little kisses in a trail from my breasts to my pubic line.
Her intent was obvious, her question was unnecessary, her plan was enthralling.
"Of course darling," I sighed opening my legs to the slight pressure she applied to my thighs.
I threaded my fingers on one hand into her long, lustrous, chestnut coloured hair and let her grip the fingers on my other hand as my body received her precious gift. The feeling of a tongue on that most sensitive, female place, is always immense. When a female is doing that, when she is tipping your velvet the sensations are magnified many times.
I gasped with the sheer extreme nature of the pleasure I received from my female lover licking my cunt. It was amazing. I pressed her hand to my breast, grabbed a handful of her hair, and feeling a deep, grunt slide from my mouth I gave into the orgasm and I let Jane make me cum.
It was not a million miles, I realised as I lay in her arms coming down from the soaring height of that wonderful climax, from Friday with William.
"Come and sit on my lap," he had said, after we finished the salmon salad, the raspberries and the cheese washed down with a bottle of Chablis Premier Cru and half bottle of Chateau Talbot; he always had a great taste in wines I recalled as a slight breeze got up in the garden and the sun went behind some clouds.
I did as he asked, I wanted to, it seemed just right.
"No not like that," he said as I sat on his legs my side towards him.
"How then?"
"Face me, a leg either side of my hips."
I clambered around to comply with his order, which I found mildly exciting.
"Now get your tits out," he ordered grabbing my bum with both hands. Although i felt I was a fairly liberated woman, in keeping with many sisters, I liked being ordered around at times. Slight domination brings the, possibly, natural submissive out in me. It was something I had always liked about William and had missed with Luke.
Luke and I had lived in the big, four storey townhouse in Highgate for almost fifteen years and had never had sex in the secluded garden. I had been having an affair with William for a little over three hours and here I was about to be fucked by him on the terrace of the garden. Again, I was putty in his hands.
I lifted the tee up and over my head and flaunted my tits at him, momentarily wondering what he saw in those compared to his ex-wife's big D+ beauties.
"God they're great," he, almost growled, gripping one, slightly roughly and sucking my nipple into his mouth. Although I am slightly disappointed with the size of my breasts I do feel that when making love my rather prominent nipples go some way in compensation. William had always said that all those years ago and remarked on it again now.
My mind immediately went back to earlier when Jane had done exactly the same. His mouth on my bare breast, being in the open air, thinking of Jane and feeling his bulge pressing right against my pussy, covered only by the small bikini panties, really got me going.
I watched fascinated as he unzipped Charles' shorts. He lifted his legs up a bit causing me to rise in the air and pushed his shorts down; the dirty sod hadn't bothered with boxers. His cock reared upwards, pressing against my spreaded pussy lips and running right across my uncovered clit. I pressed forward so that my bikini panty covered sensitive spots rubbed against his erection. I was still looking down as he continued alternating sucking my right and left tits and nipples. I saw him get hold of the gusset of my bikini. He tried pushing it to one side, but it was too snug and tight.
"Fuck this," he growled grabbing the shiny, thinnish material with both hands.
"What you doing?" I asked, a little alarmed as he tugged the panties causing them to dig deeply into the crease of bum.
