1.
Dirty Secrets Revealed
"Goodnight..."
I threw the taxi door shut. Sue would take care of the fare. Anyway, I'd picked up the bill for the last round of rather overpriced Chablis so fair do's.
I teetered to the front door on my over-high "fuck-me" strappy stilettos fishing for the key in my purse. The door opened into our dimly lit hallway and I could see the light from the living room shining under the door. "Well, they're still up", I thought. Shutting the front door, I was aware in a sudden drop in sound levels as the TV set was switched off.
Nigel, Alan's and my long-time friend was sitting at one end of the sofa, TV remote in hand.
"Hi, how's it going?" I greeted him. "Where's Alan?"
"Gave up on you! Says he had a tough day. Says you should keep the noise down when you go up too", Nigel smiled, nonchalantly dropping the remote onto the sofa.
"Need a top-up? I'm having one," I asked as I made my way to the fridge in the kitchen. I poured two glasses from the open bottle in the fridge door, added some ice and made my way back to the living room.
Nigel was watching me, rather intently I thought, as I handed him the glass. My own fault, I suppose. The dark blue cashmere dress was indecently short. Only a couple of inches below "See-level" and the shortness combined with the high-heels made my legs look like they went on forever. I liked the effect. I quite liked the effect it had on others too. I liked them looking.
I wasn't wearing a bra either. I didn't really need to. My breasts are just a generous handful as Alan puts it and they're firm enough to do without. There was however no hiding the fact that the clingy cashmere was doing little to hide my perky nipples.
Anyway, looking is OK. Good for my ego too!
He took the glass one handed, the other still hovering near the TV remote.
I took a long slurp from mine and perched myself at the other end of the sofa. "So, how's things? Found a replacement for Becky yet? How's the old sex-life?"
"Not really." he replied. "Things are so bad, I'm in danger of becoming firm friends with my right hand".
I laughed. "Well watching midnight porn probably doesn't help..." I said looking pointedly at the still whirring DVD player.
He had the grace to blush. "Well, you wandering around like a half-naked blonde bombshell doesn't help either..."
"Half naked? – I'm not. This is just my on-the-town normal slut-wear," I protested, still smiling. "So, what did you have on?"
He made a grab for the controller, but I was faster and I took the television out of standby.
Frozen on the screen, in three-quarter view, a girl sitting on a green sofa was about to receive a very large and very hard cock between her half opened lips. If I were to un-pause the DVD, I knew, the camera would pan down revealing her sweater pushed up over her pert breasts and then pan further down showing her white stockings and her hand at work between her splayed thighs. Later, the cock would be stretching her as its owner knelt between those long legs while she looked directly into the camera with an "is this what you wanted to see?" kind of look. Later still she'd accept a thick stream of spunk up the side of her face under the insistent administrations of her fingers and lips. She'd look again at the camera, again with the look that said, "I hope that really was what you wanted to happen". And then the DVD would end.
I knew the movie well. Very well. Actually, I knew the participants. So did Nigel... My turn to blush.
"Just how much of this have you watched?" I asked Nigel, turning to look at him. I saw his hand go to his lap, unsuccessfully attempting to cover the tenting in his jeans.
He was scarlet now. "Nothing.... Not much.... Well, actually, a bit. This was the third run though", he admitted. "Sorry... I shouldn't have. But I....".
"Oh," I said, "Well, I've no secrets from you anymore, have I? But my fault I guess, the disc shouldn't have been left lying around".
He relaxed a little when he realised that I wasn't angry. Really, I wasn't too upset. Like I say, I like being watched, this was just a little more extreme.
"So who did you get to take the film for you?" he managed to ask, presumably emboldened by my lack of tantrums. "I mean how did you find....".
Time to come clean, I thought.
"You're asking the wrong question", I interrupted, and "The real question is 'whose cock is it?'.
I continued to look at him as realisation began to dawn. I said "I'm not telling, but it's your best friend behind the camera. So draw your own conclusions. And actually, that's another secret. Now you know. If anyone else gets to know, you're in big trouble".
He glanced back at the screen and then back to my face. "Shit! I'm seriously fucked up now! You looked so.... Anyway, look what you're doing to me." He indicated his lap. "I think I might need to disappear off to the bathroom for a while!"
Then the wickedness came over me.
"The bathroom?" I asked innocently. "Whatever for?".
"Well... you know... to take care of...um...business..." his hands had dropped to his lap. Again.
"No, no, I got that bit... I meant why do you need to go to the bathroom to do it?"
