The End of an Affair

1

Gemma looked at her watch and did so after she had twisted the strap around her slender wrist. It would soon be time for her to go to work, the children in playgroups and taken care of by friends until she could collect them. Organizing her work roster around their care took some time and all of her persuasive skills.

Now, she had some moments to spare and watched her father-in-law, Stan Clarke, through the kitchen window as he worked at relaying the sods of turf that covered the cable that supplied power to the garden lanterns that he had installed in places that she had chosen, with Jake's agreement. They would bathe the grass, and close surroundings to them, in a soft light when the kids wanted to play in the gathering gloom of a winter's evening, or when she and Jake entertained friends, seated around the table by the brightly painted garden house with its decking.

Stan had created it all and had even paid for some of it, choosing to call the works a 'present' for her and Jake's birthdays. She knew the true reason for his continuing involvement in getting her home straight; he missed few opportunities to be with her.

'I'll be off to work soon Stan!' she called out to him, through the open door that led out to the garden.

'Okay, I'm almost through with this...it's gone well,' he answered with a casual wave, and on a stilled look her way. He had heard her happy voice. 'I'll come and see you off...'

She snorted a soft disbelieving laugh on hearing him say it and watched Stan step over the path towards her, treading down the edges of the turf that he had disturbed. He looked so darned 'hot' for a man his age, his faded denim shirt, matched by belted jeans, a counterpoint to the curls of snow-white hair to be seen at the hollow of his throat and stark against Stan's tanned skin. He was strong and kept in shape and she was pleased that this streak of vanity in him had persisted over the years she had known him and, on occasion, of him.

He met her disconcerted look his way as he closed the space between them. 'You're wonderful to look at, even in that work uniform you have to wear.'

'I'll think of you...what we've done, again,' she smiled wanly, moving her head as his fingers caressed her throat and she met the stilled look of his eyes upon her. 'You needed me again, didn't you?'

'Yeah' he smiled, 'and we have no time as we once did.'

'That was long ago...'

'Not so long ago that I can't keep a hold of the memories, Gem', you know that, don't you? Besides,' he smiled and looked knowingly at her, 'Bryony and Jonno are reminders of how it was between us.'

Gemma nodded. She needed no reminding of all that she had resorted to and agreed upon, to make those kids become a reality for her.

'And I can't seem to let them go, though I should!' She rose on tip toes to kiss him quickly. 'Lock up, won't you?'

'What, the house or the memories?'

'Both, now I really have to go!' she laughed out, brightly. 'Take care of yourself, and thanks for everything,' she smiled, looking at him as if it was to be for the last time, lovers taking their leave of each other. She had known, again, that she was in his blood and had been overwhelmed by his ardour almost from the moment that Stan had arrived at her door a couple of hours ago and she was getting ready for work.

The front door closed silently behind her. She knew that he could not see her through the frosted glass, but she still looked back at the house, her mind possessed by what she had done for him, fully clothed. A flurry of kisses, open-mouthed and passionate, had been his greeting of her and, somehow, she had restrained him in his caresses and soft voice urging that he take her on the bed upstairs.

'Use your mouth on me, then, if you've got no time for the rest of it,' he had commanded, but his voice hinting that it was a request of her that she should go down on him.

Her shoes clacked on the pavement as she hurried along, her thoughts filled with what she had done for him. An aberrant need to perform the act had also taken hold in her.

Stan had simply waited for her, sat on a kitchen bar stool with his jeans and pants around his ankles and covering his work shoes, and she'd taken in the aroused state of Stan's penis and the weight of his ball sac, so gnarled and heavy, full of what she knew he could bring to her, just as he had done so many times in the past. His balls shaped the wrinkled skin of his sac and she had reached for them, stroked a hand over his long, veined shaft as she rolled them in her small hands. She had never gotten used to how quickly he could be aroused, or what he brought to his loving of her, and now what he asked her to do.

'I...I just need to lose this with you,' she had heard Stan groan and had obliged him, had knelt on the kitchen floor, between his parted legs and flickered her tongue over the tip of his penis, tasted the pre-cum on it before her tongue swirled over it and down his hairless shaft before she took it in her mouth and sucked, then dragged her teeth gently over the underside in ways that she remembered he loved her to do.

She had marveled, once more, at his state of arousal, had felt the veins under the skin of his shaft as she licked down to his balls, one hand then gripping the base as she put her mouth to him once more and began to suck, to bob her head as her lips and hands worked him. She had shivered, as always, on feeling his strength and the girth of his wonderful penis that she would suck and squeeze pleasure from, just as his ways of fucking her had taken her to places she never found with Jake.

She thought of him as a stud, her special man in what their trysts had resulted in and that Jake had failed to achieve. Her sperm donor had been and still was, her lover. Stan had been only too willing to be of help and it was as if his bond with her went far beyond what she had with Jake, a man reluctant to pursue all means of having kids. His mind was closed to the idea of it ever happening; Stan had confounded all of that and Jake had never had any cause to question how it had happened, twice, except that she had pursued him in making love to her as well, soon after Stan had been in her. It had been so deceitful, but she had learned to live with the memories, sharp moments of recall that Stan's demands upon her kept so alive.

She would do this for him, for Stan...

The devoted mother, the wife of Stan's son, the mother of children she knew were Stan's, had become lost in a frenzy of licking, sucking, tugging, and squeezing on that length of flesh that had found her, that had brought on shattering and wasting orgasms in quick and raging succession whenever they had been together, like moths around the flame, obsessive in their own ways about what they had sought from each other.

It was no different now or had been, only minutes ago.

'You've...you've brought me there, girl!' she had heard him yell, not lowering her mouth too far over him but sucking and licking on the bulbous tip of his penis that seemed to fill her mouth with trembling, throbbing flesh. She'd become lost in her own world of aberrant pleasure and had felt her body and pussy spasm, the juices flow, as she felt the bolts of his semen erupt and coat the back of her throat, his hands felt in her hair to keep her to him until he had calmed down.

'Let it all go, you darling man!' she gagged, squeezing on his heavy scrotum as Stan jerked and yelled out in his pleasure and in response to her claims upon him; her cries of impending orgasm aroused by what she was doing for him, and Stan's clamping hands on her head and body, silenced by her working on him. 'Stan...Stan! You wonder...you have so much...still!'

'It's what you bring to me...'

'And we have to stop, in spite of that. Jake and Betty would be wrecked if they found out.'

She had risen to kiss him, cupped her two hands over the tip of his trembling penis, and captured what he had still to give and to keep it off her blouse and face. She shivered as she felt him shudder and then fall in on himself, satisfied. For her, it had all felt as if her brain and body had been overwhelmed by the wanton pleasure that they had pursued and that she had willingly conceded to.

She had quickly cleaned herself, washed out her mouth, and said goodbye as if nothing had passed between them. She had only lingered in the kitchen with him for long enough to hand Stan some kitchen tissues so that he could clean himself up. She had loved him, had felt the euphoric glow of having had control over him when he had sought to make his demands upon her. She had seen how Stan had raised his head, eyes shut, as she worked him and brought to him unconfined pleasure and release from the torment that he had again felt on being denied his ways with her.

And then, her lover had gotten on with the chores that he had set himself, a soft smile directed her way, and words of gratitude murmured as if such moments were commonplace. They no longer were, but the hunger for each other persisted.

'He's obsessed with me, still, even when he has Betty to lose it all with when it gets too much to deny. I've got to take back control...of everything, somehow.'

She had been here before with him, and she still could not bring an end to their claims upon each other, the kids, her work, and life with Jake failing to fill an inexplicable void in her emotional life that going with Stan, so long ago, had first aroused in her and that there seemed to be no end to.

Somehow, she had to find a way through to a different life with Stan; to put to an end these furtive liaisons and rarely pre-arranged and prolonged trysts, but always in her home and some DIY task was an excuse to bring him to her door.

Could the pleasure that he brought, and she offered to him, really justify all the risks that they took?

2

There were moments when she worked in her supervisory role, in the supermarket, as if in a daze; when memories of her times with Stan, and the bond that had formed with him, possessed her thoughts, unbidden. The crazy suggestion, by Jake, that her father-in-law became a sperm donor spiraled out of her control. She had been seduced and had taken him as a lover with only one purpose, or end result, in mind. That had been some five years ago and yet, now, she felt as if she was an insect caught in amber; reckless pleasure, and undoubted gratitude for what Stan had done for her, delaying the decision to do what was right by her husband Jake and Stan's wife, the loyal and unsuspecting Betty.

She could not keep her mind from spooling back to other times that the morning's tryst, days ago, had reminded her of. It was Stan's seemingly insatiable appetite, his lust, for her, and that she continued to pander to, even encouraged.

Just how long could they each keep up the pretence that was their lives?

♥

'I said we should stop loving in the ways we have,' she told him, the passing of three days not having any effect on him, nor what she had asked of Stan the last time they had gotten together.

'Sorry, but there are times when I can't be in the same room as you...can't keep my hands from you...whatever we did, it was never enough.'

He held Gemma to him and slowly pushed his hands under her blouse to cup her breasts and to delight again in all that was to be held and caressed. He yearned to simply hold them and feel their weight, and to know that the soft fabric of her bra was all but a second skin. He felt the charge of excitement from being with her again like this. Gemma's nipples, so hard and bud-like, suggested that she felt the same way, once more.

'Stan...Stan...there's so little time!' She squirmed under his caresses and threaded the fingers of one hand with his as Stan now fumbled with the fastening of her slacks. He soon pushed them away, enough, to begin caressing her mons, before placing his hand over it and brushing fingers over the narrow strip of coarse hair that he knew she tended so carefully. He slowly pricked into her with his fingers. 'I know...it's a madness that we don't want to find a cure for.'

'What we have is so different from before! I can't let it be. You know how it is for me only too well.' His breaths were hot on her throat; his vitality was felt pressing against her buttocks as his embrace tightened upon her.

'You terrify me with what you bring, Stan, you darling man. But, we have to let go of what we have done. I'll never forget or be free of that! The children remind me of those times that we had every single day and moments that I have with them.'

Gemma shivered under his expert caresses and clamped one hand on him. She felt the hard swell in his jeans. She couldn't bring herself to deny to him what he sought of her and to leave him plagued by his desire to know of her again and with that erection straining in his pants.

She led him into the bedroom and slipped off her cargo pants; then her thong. Gemma watched him tug at his belt and she moved to kneel before him and pulled his jeans and briefs down his strong, hairy, thighs. She knew that there would be so little time for preambles.

Stan met her look as she took his balls gently in her hand as the other worked the long, thick girth of his penis. She felt his hands in the tumble of her hair as her fleshy lips parted and she took him deep into her mouth.

'Just a few moments like this,' he groaned. Stan's body jerked and he grabbed onto her shoulders, feeling her moist lips slide as she slipped him further and further into her mouth.

'You wonder...you wonder...how you scare me,' she gasped, almost gagging on what he sought of her.

She worked her tongue around it as she withdrew and then licked it over and over again. Stan's breathing grew deeper as his dick received a frenzied workout.

'Enough, darling girl. There's no time for it all!' The fire of raging lust was taking hold and he pushed her away. He did not want to burst into her mouth. 'Sit on the edge of the bed...now!'

Stan pushed up her legs as she lay back and buried his face against her wet folds; pushed his fingers into her, then opened the way to his claims. She gripped his shoulders and did that fiercely as she looked down at what he would bring into her. His physique was breathtaking, and she shivered as he pushed her back on the bed and gripped her legs, He pushed them wide as he buried his face to her, and continued to work his tongue as it moved rapidly over wet lips before exploring deeper. He took her expertly in these ways of it, his tongue flickering and provoking her to buck her hips and grip his shoulders, to tug on his hair and to keep him to her.

'Okay?' she saw him grin, his lips slicked with her juices.

'Yes, I'm okay but fuck me and do it now! Be quick...there's no time for soft words!'

She screamed out her demands and pulled on him with her legs as best as Stan's taking of her allowed; almost in a posture of submission to his needs. She couldn't keep her body from shaking as he continued to tease her with a mixture of licking and sucking, as he varied his movements; they were gentle and considerate, sometimes rougher but everything he did had her blood humming in her veins. Her mind and body now wanted him to take her, to love and to fuck her.

'Be on me like this, then.'

She felt the strength in his arms and hands as she was lifted and Stan lowered her onto him. Shudders of longing coursed through her as she felt as if she was impaled on him. His long, hard, prick was now in her warm, slicked, pussy as far as it would go. He fingered her opening as the means to pursue another impetuous and frenzied rut, animalistic in its purpose. Making love was for another time, and she was ashamed to admit that there had been many. But now their actions were fraught with risk.

Stan groaned in his efforts and out of delight for what she did to take and please him. He fucked her; felt Gemma's body yield to every plunging, plugging thrust as the walls of her wet haven gripped him then eased in their ardent loving and pursuit of each other. She was working to bring him on, her breaths sharp and quickening.

'Don't stop now, girl!' he gasped as she lay back on the bed, her arms and legs still embracing him and he took her. It felt as if this young woman, and his aching cock as she worked it, were the whole world to him now. She brought so much more than the pleasure that Betty so often bestowed.

'Stan...Stan!' she yelped as his tempestuous claims wracked her body.

'You're too much and still, it's never enough! You've got such a hold on me and my mind!' he gasped as he met her kisses. He felt the fierce grip of her hands on his neck, her caresses to his back and buttocks, as he pounded into her until it was upon him, and he was truly gone. He was falling into the abyss, and Gemma's actions and gasps for breath declared that it was that way for her too.

In two great sinuous and plunging thrusts and on a deep groan of surrender, he succumbed to a hugely pleasurable orgasm. The rushes of pleasure coursed through his cock in violent shocks as he flooded her; ejaculated in thick jetting streams as he slammed again and again into her slick, squishy folds, squeezing her tightly and making sounds he'd never made before.

'I...I can't bear this! It can't go on! Stan...Stan! We have to stop...we have to!'

Her lover's penis, the wild man claiming her was too much. She had felt him burst with profound joy as she succumbed to the pleasure and wildness of their loving that reached a peak and sent her tumbling over the edge. His arms enfolded her before she was lifted from the bed once more. She felt as one with him, knew that he was fully in her, and pursued boundless moments of mindless pleasure, the soft featherings of release making her shudder as waves of completion and spending crashed over her.

She was utterly lost in unthinking ecstasy.

She groaned and shivered as pleasure expanded through her body, swelling to a tremendous throb and releasing in a series of quick, staccato snaps, shooting pulses of satisfaction out from her clitoris and through her body. And through all this, she could feel his cock sliding rapidly in and out of her, elevating the experience to a pitch of almost unspeakable carnality.

Gemma gasped out of fear and pleasure from all that she had again succumbed to. 'How can we keep this a secret....tell me how...how Stan?'

She asked it of him as he withdrew, and she sat down on the edge of the bed. He tugged at a box of paper tissues and pressed to clean her dripping pussy. He dressed quickly. She took hold of his outstretched hand and stood up. There was no finesse, time did not allow for that, and she; met his hooded stare upon her. Gemma thought she might never walk again after the battering she'd taken and was relieved that she had gone back on the pill. Even so, she wondered if the man would breach that defence, such was the passion that he brought and where she had taken him. His lust seemed to be boundless, and she wondered how Betty lived with the man and his demands for satisfaction.

Whatever they brought to him, in their own ways, it was never enough.

She gathered up her cargo trousers and pants and rushed to the en-suite bathroom. Stan was not in the room when she had finished and restored her makeup, also the fit of her clothes. Her mind was in a whirl as she went to find him; heard Stan in Bryony's bedroom.

'The last touches to your girl's doll's house,' he sighed on looking at her and taking in Gemma's loveliness once more. He met again her distracted look upon him. 'You're right, it can't go on. I'm a selfish bastard.'

'No, you're not, but I don't want to lose the magic memories by having others know what we have done some time ago to make the children.'

Gemma said it before she rushed away from him and ran down the stairs. She knew it too, but she'd wanted to be let down gently in spite of her heated words only moments ago.