Claire's There

Brendan was out of sorts when he dropped by to see Graeme. Not actually ill or hung-over, but just feeling irritable at life in general. We all have that sort of day.

Graeme, on the other hand, was on top of the world. No real reason for it, just one of those days when you wake up full of go, and he was going very nicely, thank you.

The pair of them had been doing some carpentry, building some shelves that Graeme intended to install in the house at some time. He was getting things ready for a remodelling of his kitchen. His wife, Claire, had been a bit narky about the old fashioned kitchen, lately.

He stirred Brendan up a little about his sour mood. Brendan managed a smile or two, but his mood didn't significantly improve.

"You know what your real trouble is?" asked Graeme.

"No. Tell me my real trouble," came back Brendan.

"You're suffering from blue balls, mate. When was the last time you got laid? It's time you went and found yourself a piece of tail."

Brendan finally laughed. "You've got a point there, mate. I probably should do that little thing."

They continued working for a while, when Graeme came up with a comment.

"Claire's there," he said.

Brendan looked around, but couldn't see her.

"Uh, Claire's where?" he asked.

"In the house," said Graeme, nodding thoughtfully.

Brendan was a little confused.

"Meaning?" he queried.

"You need to get laid, and Claire's in the house," explained Graeme. "That'll work."

"Your wife, Claire?" asked Brendan. "What does she have to do with me getting laid?"

"You can go in and give her a quick bonk," said Graeme. "I should've thought of this earlier."

"She's your wife, Graeme. I can't go having sex with your wife."

"Why not?" demanded Graeme, indignant on his wife's behalf. "She's young and pretty and she likes sex."

"But she's your wife. You can't ask her to have sex with me."

"I know that. I wouldn't know anything about it," said Graeme with a grin. "Look, it's like this. Right now Claire is majorly pissed off at me. I mean majorly. I'm so much in the doghouse that the dog's gone to a hotel for the week. And Claire likes sex, but right now she's not giving me any, and the fact that she's horny is making her even madder at me. She reckons it's my fault.

Now if you was to sneak in there while I was busy out here, you could give her a good rogering and then be back out here to help me again. She'll go along with it because, as I said, she's horny, and she'll also think she's putting one over on me.

She'll be so pleased to have put one over on me that she'll let bygones be bygones and I'll also get laid tonight.

And it gives me something to hold over her in the future if she starts up with that holier than thou crap again.

So what do you think?"

"I think you're insane," said Brendan. "You can't pass your wife around like that."

"Not passing her around," protested Graeme, "so much as giving her a chance to fall for temptation, and perhaps to forgive others their transgressions. Come on. Can't you give a mate a hand here. It's a win-win situation."

"As a matter of curiosity, why's she so mad at you?"

"Ah, that. You know Sandra?"

"That redhead who serves at Subway?"

"That's the one. I found out that she also serves after Subway closes, and Claire found out about it."

"You were screwing Sandra? How'd Claire find out?"

"Sandra's a loud mouth. She was boasting of her prowess and happened to mention my name. While Claire was right there next to her. As you can see, Claire isn't too happy, but if she also falls to temptation...."

"But even if I do, won't you be irritated that someone else has had sex with you wife?"

"Hey, she wasn't a virgin when I married her, and it wasn't me who popped her cherry, either. I've always been of the opinion that a person's sex life is their own affair.

So how about it? You get laid. Claire gets laid. Claire lets up on me and I get laid."

"Not getting any more from Sandra?"

"Not after Claire finished chatting to her. Threatened to sew her pussy shut if she came anywhere near me again."

Nodding thoughtfully, Brendan continued working for a while, contemplating the suggestion. He could feel Graeme's eyes on him, waiting for a decision. Finally, he looked up.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment, I just need to go and relieve myself. If I bump into Claire, I may stop and chat for a few moments."

Graeme grinned. "You do that mate," he said. "You do that."

Brendan went up to the house and visited the bathroom. Returning from the bathroom, he literally did bump into Claire in the kitchen.

He stopped and looked at her. Then he looked again, this time giving her a comprehensive once over.

Claire was young and attractive, and she had a nice body. Now that he thought about it, a very nice body. And she was dressed for the weather, basically wearing shorts and a tank top, and Brendan was prepared to swear that she had no bra under that top.

Claire blushed at the intensive look Brendan gave her, feeling her nipples crinkle as his gaze paused at her breasts. Then his eyes swept on down, pausing again on her tight shorts. Claire was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that the shorts she wore were tight, giving her a pronounced camel-toe, and she could see that Brendan was noticing.

"Ah, um, is there something you wanted, Brendan," she asked, talking fast to hide her suddenly flustered feeling.

"Since you ask," said Brendan softly, "yes, there is."

He reached over and flicked open the button at the top of Claire's shorts, then ran the zip down. His fingers didn't stop at the bottom of the zip, however, but continued down to lightly scratch her lips through the denim.

"Brendan," gasped Claire. "You can't do things like that."

"What about things like this?" asked Brendan, his hands returning to the waist of her shorts, gripping and dragging downwards.

"Brendan!" squeaked Claire. "Cut that out. Graeme could come any second."

"Then we'll have to be quick, wont we?" said Brendan quietly, unzipping his own trousers.

"Brendan, don't be a fool," protested Claire as he backed her up against the table. She could feel excitement starting to race through her, combined with shock at the erection Brendan was now threatening her with.

Clair found herself backed against the table, with Brendan standing between her legs, his cock pressing against her. She tried to protest, but he was having none of that. His hand closed over her mound, squeezing, and then his fingers were easing her lips apart.

"No, Brendan, don't," Claire protested, feeling that this was all too sudden. She could now feel Brendan's cock pressing against her slit, with his fingers guiding it home.

"You want this, Claire," Brendan told her, for he had noticed that while she'd mouthed her refusals, she hadn't tried to resist, letting him do what he wanted.

Brendan pressed firmly home, hearing Claire gasp with pleasure as he drove deeply into her. Now that he had her firmly pinned against the table, Brendan reached for her tank top.

"Hands up," he said briskly, and the top was whipped up and off as she complied.

"Very nice," murmured Brendan, hands claiming their prizes, while he thrust hard against her, enjoying the yielding softness.

Claire seemed to writhe against him for a moment, apparently trying to decide if she should try to stop him or not, but a muffle scream after Brendan drew back and thrust forcefully in was followed by Claire grabbing him and holding him while she thrust hard back against him.

Then the pair of them were thrusting hard against each other, both of them gasping with the effort. Brendan's hands twisted and teased Claire's breasts, and it was obvious to the pair of them that it wouldn't be long before they both climaxed.

With exquisite timing, Graeme enter the kitchen just as Claire was about to climax.

"Claire," he thundered, "How could you? And with my best friend?"

Claire screamed, partly from that shock and partly from the shock of her climax hitting her.

"Have you no shame, woman," thundered a gleeful Graeme. "To continue behaving like that in front of your lawful husband."

Claire could feel Brendan's seed spilling in her, and trembled, her face scarlet. What could she say? What could she do?

Graeme was sadly shaking his head.

"Oh, woman, you are the great temptress," he mourned. "I guess you'd better go now, Brendan. I apologise for my wife tempting you like that. I don't blame you, mate."

Opening a drawer while Brendan straightened his clothes, Graeme withdrew a long flat paddle.

"Don't bother getting dressed just yet, Claire," said Graeme sternly. "Just turn around and bend over the table while we discuss your behaviour."

Brendan departed, wincing slightly when he heard the first sharp slap of the paddle on a nicely curve bottom, followed by a pained squeal.

"Nice one, Graeme," he thought. "You sucked me right in, but at least you arranged for me to get properly laid."