Forbidden Ch 01 7

One of the things I find unusual about sex is that the very best sex for many people is sexual activity that is treated as taboo by society. Why is it we enjoy it most when it is forbidden?

The first two chapters are a tale about Sarah and Sam, a loving couple who just can't quite resist the temptation of the forbidden—adultery to be specific. Chapter one is Sarah's story. Chapter two is Sam's story. To fully understand what I am trying to say here it is important to read both chapters.

I hope to post further chapters focused on characters inability to resist other forbidden activities.

*****

He was waiting on their front porch as Sarah returned from her early afternoon run. She had taken advantage of an afternoon off to go for a longer than usual mid-day run. God, I look a mess she thought, her sports bra damp and even soaked in places, her skin shining with sweat, soggy wisps of hair escaped from a ponytail and plastered to her forehead. As she walked up the front walk, still panting from the run she asked herself, "What is he doing here? He wasn't supposed to be here until tomorrow?"

"Liam." she said, as she topped the steps. "We thought you were coming tomorrow?"

"I know," he replied as he rose from the front porch swing. "My meetings ended early and I'm booked out on a plane for 8:30 this evening. I just thought I would take a chance and see if you and Sam were here."

"Oh. I've been out for a run. My Wednesday afternoons are open."

"I've only been here for about five minutes. I saw the car in your driveway so I figured you would turn up soon."

Liam and Sarah's husband Sam had been roommates in college ten years ago. Sarah had known them both then, but had never really been comfortable with Liam. Sam however was a different story. She had fallen in love with him almost on the day they met and married him even before they finished college. Now she was a professor in a small college and Sam was an accountant, working for a major CPA firm. Liam . . . Well actually she wasn't quite sure what Liam was doing now. They tried to keep in touch, but he drifted around a lot and they could never quite keep up with where he was or what he was doing.

Liam looked as good as he did in their college days—tall, lean, and handsome to a fault. One of the reasons she had never been comfortable with him in college was that he was a consummate ladies man with a couple of different dates each week, most of whom he bedded and then moved on from, if what Sam had to say was to be believed.

As Liam strode towards her she held her hand out. He blew right past it and enveloped her in a crushing hug. "Gosh, it's good to see you," he said as she escaped from his grasp. He didn't so much as let go of her as she simply slipped from his arms.

"I'm gross," she said. "I just ran eight miles."

He just laughed and released that devastating lady killer smile of his. No he hadn't changed she thought. "When does Sam get home from work?"

"Sam's not here," she told him. "He's working on an audit in Chicago. Won't be back until late tonight."

"Oh. Well maybe I should just call an Uber and head on out to the airport. I'll have a lot of time to kill, but I have work that I can get done while waiting."

"No, no. Come on in, and lets visit. My husband would kill me if I ran his old roommate off and condemned him to three or four hours of cooling his heels in the airport. Sam travels enough that he has learned to hate air travel." As she spoke, she bent forward and retrieved a key from the laces of a shoe, aware that Liam was standing directly behind her. I bet he is staring at my backside she thought.

Opening the door, she asked him if he would like a drink, "Wine, beer, soda?"

"Wine sounds good."

She led him into the kitchen and retrieved an unopened bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from a low shelf in the fridge. She was sure he was staring at her rear end again and for no reason she could conceive of she took a little extra time, giving him a longer look than necessary and savoring it. When she turned he was leaning against the counter, his shoulders back and his hips thrust slightly forward. He was staring at her, obviously enjoying the little show she had put on. He looked away quickly when she caught his eye.

Enough of this she thought. She handed him the bottle and a corkscrew and said, "Here, can you open this and pour? If you don't mind I'm going to grab a quick shower."

"Sure," he responded. "Ah, wine glasses?"

"Oh, yes." She paused in mid-stride toward the kitchen door and turned back to the cupboards. The wine glasses were stored on a top shelf and she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach them. Her back was to him again and she knew that standing that way was showing off her legs and rear end—again. She took her time completing the task, enjoying her certainty that he was watching carefully.

He was smiling and silent as she handed him the glasses. She tried and failed to avoid his smiling eyes, but saw enough to confirm her belief that he had enjoyed her little show. She looked away and kept walking. "I'll only be a few minutes. Why don't you open the wine and take it to the living room."

"Sure."

"Once in the bathroom, with the door safely locked behind her she stood looking at herself in the mirror. "What is it about this guy that gets to me so?" She realized that her nipples were swollen and making obvious tents in her damp sports bra. "Great, I'm sure he saw that too."

She quickly stripped off her clothes and stepped into a cool shower seeking to chill her libido as much as the rest of her body. As she was toweling herself down she realized that in her haste to escape from the kitchen she had failed to bring any clean clothes in with her. "Damn, I can't go to the living room like this," she said as she looked at herself standing naked before the mirror. She noticed that her nipples were still hard. Apparently the chilling effect of the shower had not been totally successful.

Sarah thought about wrapping a towel around herself and making a run for their bedroom, but the towel was too small. If it covered her breasts in anything like a satisfactory manner, it wasn't going to adequately cover her bottom. Liam was surely in the living room by now with a clear view down the hallway. No, the towel was not going to work.

There was a basket of old clothes lying in a corner of the bath. She rummaged about in it for a while and found a pair of sweat pants cut off into shorts for running and a worn white T-shirt of Sam's, but no under garments. She pulled the sweats and the T-shirt on and dragged a brush through her damp hair. As she stood before the mirror she bounced a bit, just to see if her breasts would jiggle and whether it would show through the well worn, loose T-shirt she was wearing. They bounced and it showed. So did her still hard nipples. She remembered now that Liam had aroused her like this in the past. He didn't seem to do anything, but he always had this effect on her. In the past it had scared her. Now she just felt a little annoyed with herself—and aroused.

Pausing before the doorknob she told herself that she should go to her bedroom and put a bra on. It was a long pause. Longer than it should have been, and for reasons she could never explain to herself, just like she couldn't explain why she paused to let him ogle her ass when she was getting her door key from her shoelace and retrieving the wine bottle from the bottom of the fridge, she decided to skip the bra. Worse yet she even added a little extra bounce to her step as she walked into the living room. The T-shirt was old and soft and it felt delicious, even sinful, against her hardened nipples. Sam had always told her she was a closet exhibitionist, and maybe she was, but she certainly wasn't in a closet now.

As she walked into the room she could feel her breasts bouncing beneath the T-shirt. Liam looked briefly at her as she appeared in the hallway and then looked back as she entered the room, focused on her obviously braless breasts. He didn't say a word—just watched as she walked toward him.

"What am I doing?" she asked herself. "Of course he can see my tits bouncing."

"Yes of course," she responded in silence, "And it feels so sinfully delicious."

Liam was sitting on one end of the couch, two filled wine glasses and the bottle on an end table next to him. "Wine?" he said, offering a glass to her.

"Thank you." She took the glass and swiftly emptied more than half of it as she stood before him. "What have I gotten myself into?" she asked herself as Liam looked up at her smiling.

She walked to the other end of the couch and sat down pulling her legs up to curl beneath her as she leaned back. As she did so she remembered why she had discarded the old sweat pants. She had cut them off too short. They barely covered her backside when she ran in them and now, sitting curled up, they were not covering any part of her legs. "Nothing to worry about," she told herself. "He's a lech, but he's not going to rape me."

They chatted for a while as they both continued to sip the wine—what Sarah was teaching (freshman literature), her research (Western American writers of the 19

th

century).

"Oh you mean like Mark Twain," he asked.

"Well he's one of them but I'm really trying to focus on the handful of women writers of the west, the few who actually managed to get themselves published."

"And Sam?"

"He works on audits for a couple of small public companies headquartered here in town and occasionally gets pulled into bigger projects like the one he's in Chicago on now. It means he travels a fair bit."

"So he works for one of the big firms?"

"Yes, KPMG."

As they talked Sarah could feel herself relaxing a bit, her pulse dropping closer to a resting rate. Okay, she thought. He's behaving . . . and so am I. But this is sinful . . . and delicious. I wonder if he would like to seduce me? He knows he can't of course. I belong to Sam. It's forbidden, even to Liam. Especially to Liam. So now he can sit here and lust after my tits, but he can't do anything about it. This is fun.

Her glass was empty. She rose from the couch and walked to the where the bottle sat, making sure her tits bounced as she took those few steps. His eyes were glued to her in silence. She refilled both glasses and then walked back, imagining that in his silence he was staring at her butt and wondering if the globes of her ass were hanging down just a bit below the shorts. It was delicious. "Alright so I am a bit of an exhibitionist," she told herself. This is fun.

"So what are you doing these days, Liam?"

"I'm a photographer."

"And you make a living at it? That's a pretty competitive business isn't it?"

"Oh yes, but I'm doing quite well. I do a lot of fashion shoots in New York. That's my bread and butter."

"I see. What else?"

"What else?"

"What else do you photograph besides fashion shoots."

"Oh I do a little artistic stuff on the side."

"Artistic?"

"Some people call it glamour photography."

"Oh, you mean naked women?"

"Sometimes."

Sarah laughed. "Oh Liam, that's such a perfect job for you." She took another drink of the wine. She was a little dehydrated from her run and she could feel the wine getting to her.

He looked at her with his head tipped in a questioning way. "Why?"

"Well, when we were in college, you head a reputation of being able to talk women out of their clothes faster than anyone else in our class."

He laughed, but didn't deny it. "I never talked you out of your clothes," he said.

"That's because it was

forbidden

. I was Sam's girl."

He looked at her in silence over the top of his wine glass.

"So how do you do it Liam?"

"It?"

"Get women to take their clothes off for you so you can shoot 'artistic' pictures of them?"

"Sometimes I pay them, or actually it's the modeling agency that pays them."

"You didn't do that in college did you?"

"No, I've never paid for it, if that's what you mean. But college was different. I wasn't taking pictures then."

"So I heard." She smiled at him over the top of the glass and he shrugged his shoulders in a perfect non-denial.

"So how else do you convince a woman to get naked for you. I mean if she doesn't come from the modeling agency?"

"Sometimes they pay me."

"Really? How does that work?"

"Sometimes a woman will want some glamor pictures of herself for her husband or lover. Sometimes it's the husband that contacts me. I do a fair bit of that kind of work. I've even done stills and videos of couples having sex."

"Oh my."

"And some times I just ask them."

"And do they say yes?"

He smiled and his eyes twinkled. "You'd be surprised how often it works."

This conversation was making Sarah even more aroused than she had been when she first walked down the hall with her breasts bouncing.

"So if you were going to ask me, . . . just hypothetically. How would you do it?" She could feel her pulse racing again as she watched him for his response.

He looked at her for a long time and then said, "I would probably say something like, 'I've noticed Sarah that you seem to have beautiful breasts. I think I'd like to photograph them.' Something like that."

"That's all?"

"Well, I might add that I've noticed that you don't seem to have a bra on."

"Yes, that's true."

"And they bounce beautifully as you walk."

"Oh, really?"

"Then I might say, 'So would you please take that T-shirt off so I can see if they are as beautiful as I think they are?'" he said.

"Oh, just like that?"

"Yes." He paused for a moment while they stared at each other.

"Sarah," he said. "Please take that T-shirt off so I can see if your breasts are as beautiful as I think they are." The conversation had moved out of the realm of the hypothetical.

She looked at him for a long time as though she was making up her mind, chewing lightly on her lower lip in a picture of indecision. Actually she had already made up her mind. She realized now that when she had decided not to put a bra on that she wanted to be naked for him.

Liam sat in silence watching her. Then he was watching her pull the T-shirt over her head exposing her breasts. She did it quickly and tossed the T-shirt out of reach, fearing she would chicken out and just flash her breasts at him in a classic tease.

"They are lovely," he said softly.

"Thank you."

She looked down at her breasts holding them up with her hands. She had always thought she had nice breasts too. Big enough for a handful, and to show under clothes, but not so big as to be a problem with how clothing fit.

"What do you like about them?" she asked, letting her breasts drop from her hands.

"I like the shape and color of your nipples, and your areolas. Dark enough to contrast with your skin, but not too dark. Almost a rose color, but maybe just a shade darker."

"Really?" she said picking up one breast and craning her neck to get a look at the tip.

"I guess it is," she said. "I never really thought about it." Now she was softly rubbing each of her hard nipples as he stared. This is so wrong she thought. And it feels so good.

I like the size and shape too. Not so big that they cover your whole chest, but big enough for . . ." he paused. "Well a nice handful, each one."

"Is that a requirement for a good photograph, that they be the right size?"

He smiled and shifted his position, not so discreetly adjusting how his pants accommodated his arousal. Ignoring her question he continued. "I like it that they're soft, not like a pair of silicone boobs that are so stiff they won't jiggle even if the girl falls down stairs."

Sarah laughed. "Wow. That's stiff. No, mine jiggle." She smiled and held her breasts out towards him and then bounced them a bit.

"I noticed."

That was when her cell phone rang. It was the custom ring she had for Sam.

"That's Sam, I better get that."

"Yes."

"My phone's in the kitchen," she said, as she rose from the couch and walked through the room, naked but for an old pair of sweat pants cut into shorts that were just a bit too short to be decent. Liam's eyes followed her breasts as she walked by. She didn't look directly at him, but she could see him in her peripheral vision. It was delicious.

Liam could only hear Sarah's side of the conversation from the kitchen:

"Sam?"

"How's the project going?"

Long silence while Sam talked.

"Oh . . . "So you won't be home tonight?"

"Mmmmm. Okay, tomorrow night. It's a date."

"Who?"

"Oh Liam? Yes, I spoke to him. He had to leave today."

"I know. It's too bad."

They talked a bit longer over inconsequentials, weather and the like, and then she hung up. Sarah stood in the kitchen asking herself, "What the hell am I doing—standing in my kitchen half naked lying to my husband about his old friend who is in the living room?"

Her thoughts paused and then she told herself, "Oh, it sounds so much worse that way, Sarah. You really haven't done anything, and you're not going to, are you?" She didn't answer her question. Just walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch next to Liam this time, her hip touching his and her knees pulled up against her chest with her arms wrapped around them.

"That was Sam," she said.

"I know."

There was silence. The warmth of Liam's hip felt good pressed against hers.

"You lied to him didn't you?"

"Sort of. I mean I told him you had to leave today, which is what you told me."

"Hmm."

"Well I couldn't very well tell him you were in the living room rating my tits on a 1 to 10 scale, could I?

Liam laughed at that. "We used to do that, you know."

"What?" Sarah was looking at Liam now. Her hands were no longer wrapped around her knees, and she had let the leg away from him fall open to the side. The legs on the old sweats were loose and she could feel cool air on her overheated pussy. Good thing he's not in front of me, she thought. He could see everything.

"We used to rate girls on a 1 to 10 scale, Sam and I did."

Sarah giggled. "And how did I rate?"

"Oh a 10 for sure."

"And was this based on how good they were in bed?"

"Oh no. Just on looks. I never kiss and tell. Not then and not now."

He had his hand on her knee. It felt warm and sinful. Her memory of her conversation with Sam had fallen away.

"Is that so? Then how come you had such a reputation when we were in college?"

"It wasn't me, but some girls . . . Well I guess they like to talk."

That was true Sarah thought. She had heard some pretty amazing stories about Liam from a few of her sorority sisters. His fingers were lightly massaging the inside of her knee. When she looked down she thought she could see a lump in his trousers.

"Yes, I heard some of those stories from a few of my sorority sisters."

"What did they say?"

"Oh most nearly everything you could imagine. Especially that you had a big cock." She surprised herself a little with her language. She talked that way when she was in bed with Sam, but not otherwise.

Liam laughed. He slid his hand farther down the inside of her thigh, just a little farther, and then he looked at her soberly. "You need to know . . ."

"What do I need to know?" she interrupted. God his hand feels delicious, she thought.

He smiled. "You need to know how I make love to a woman."

She was a little shocked that he would be this forward.

"Really?" she responded, as his hand slid a little farther down her thigh.

"Yes. I don't want you to think that I'm of these guys who gets a girl into bed, gets himself off, and then leaves her wanting."