Nexus Confessions Page 8

  My knees buckled. I leaned on the bed. I wanted to straighten it. I wanted to launder away any signs of them together. I tugged the duvet right off. I threw the pillows back. I felt like a chambermaid. And this room was like a hotel room. Anonymous, cold, and wickedly sexy with it. I wouldn’t feel like this making my own bed.

  I leaned further to smooth and tuck the sheet and buried my nose into the place where it was most creased, sniffing like a dog, sniffing for his sharp cologne, sniffing also for the scent of his sperm.

  I was on my hands and knees on the bed. I crawled backwards, feeling about for the sprigged duvet.

  ‘Hey, Mummy.’

  I nearly came just hearing that voice behind me. For God’s sake!

  ‘Just tidying up,’ I said, aware of my bum sticking up awkwardly in the air. I twisted round to sit on my haunches on the sheet, and the baggy trousers slipped down.

  ‘No need,’ he said, stepping round the bed. He winked, as if he was back behind his steering wheel and I was miles away. ‘We’ll only mess it up again.’

  I looked at his arm in its thick sweater sleeve, reaching for a camera case. ‘Right. Of course. You and Patsy.’ My face was burning hot. ‘The lovebirds.’

  He shrugged and turned away, slinging the camera onto his shoulder, ready to go. My hands were trapped between my thighs, fingernails digging into the skin. What a stupid, stupid bitch, I thought. What was I thinking of? Creaming myself over some young guy trying it on. Let’s have a flirt with the old dear. My daughter’s boyfriend, for Christ’s sake. The stud. I shivered. A spasm went through my cunt, echoed right up inside me. He’s probably forgotten all about that little grope on the stairs. Seeing the old bat in the cold light of day –

  ‘They’ve gone to Grandma’s.’ He turned round. In the cold light of day he looked like a pirate, with the stubble even blacker this morning. But there were shadows under his eyes. ‘What am I going to do? You’re so much more beautiful.’

  ‘Than Grandma?’ I breathed weakly, feeling utterly beautiful. ‘She lives the other side of town. They’ll be all day.’

  I raised myself on my knees, stretched one foot to stand up.

  ‘I stayed behind, to take pictures of London. So we can be all day.’

  He put the camera down and knelt on the bed. The mattress was soft, and it bounced with his weight, and I toppled backwards onto my elbows. Now he was the one like a dog, hanging over me on his hands and knees. I looked at his mouth, then straight down to his groin, his thighs on either side of me. There was a big bulge straining at his buttons. My legs twitched open at the sight of it, releasing a slick of dampness onto the worn fabric of my trousers.

  Michel pushed me and I fell easily onto my back. Easy. The word flickered in my head. Loose. Whore.

  ‘What about Patsy?’ I croaked. He put his finger on my lips, like I did to him the previous night, except that I opened my mouth and sucked his finger in, turned on beyond belief to taste him.

  ‘Yeah? What about Steve?’

  He reached under my jumper and started to brush his warm fingers up and down my ribs as casually as if he’d just mentioned the weather. Daring me to stop him. There was guilt pinning me down on the bed now, mixed toxically with lust, but it didn’t stop me. It drove me. I would face the evil slut in the mirror later.

  ‘He thinks I’m invisible.’

  He tweaked my jumper and the air rushed over me. I bucked against the cold, my bare breasts bouncing under his hands, the nipples rigid points. I fell back with a little moan of surrender.

  ‘Warm you up, Mrs Patricks,’ he murmured.

  He pulled the jumper higher up and my breasts pushed at him like a feast. I was aching for him now, burning. It was maddeningly sexy that he was new, but not a stranger. Forbidden, but being invited, by me, to fuck me on my creaking little spare bed.

  The promise of pleasure was crackling out of his fingertips as they inched towards my nipples. As he pinched them I jumped at him as if electrocuted, fastened my mouth onto his. I couldn’t get enough of his lips. They were firm, like a man’s should be, and yet they had a softness in them, and I was making them wet with kissing. I could taste coffee. Who had made it? Steve? Patsy? Or one of the girls?

  The tip of his tongue, warm and slippery, sent shudders up and down my body, and I hooked my legs round his hips, crushing my groin into his, rubbing against him frantically, while a weight of desire filled me and plunged downwards. My pussy was warm and slippery, like his tongue, and I wanted him inside me. I was afraid the sensation would overtake me too soon, and I’d lose control, so I kissed him harder, sucked on his tongue and his teeth. It was feeling so good.

  ‘How could a stunner like you be invisible?’

  He laid me down again and pulled away. He was smiling, and his mouth was wet, but his eyes were deadly serious. He leaned over me, running my hair through his fingers. My hair the exact colour of Patsy’s, though cut expensively as a reward for losing all that weight, and streaked at the front with pretend blonde and silver.

  As he played with it, the tugging of the roots on my scalp turned me on. I felt like a cat being stroked. A stunner. Then he stopped and took his jumper off, tugging it from the back of his collar like a boy. Off with an old blue T-shirt, and there was his body, tanned by the Australian sun, brown in the cold winter light. I shivered again and scrabbled at the waist of his jeans, but he got to me first, easily hooked my jogging pants down, took my knickers with them. He pushed me down and, just as I’d sniffed around for his scent earlier, he dug his fingers into my bottom, hitched my pussy up to his face, breathed in, and started to lick me.

  I wrapped my thighs round his head, pushed myself frantically into his nose and face and mouth. That wet mouth was sucking and licking at my hot cunt; I could hear him swallowing my juices, last evening’s, last night’s juices, this morning’s juices – I’d been dripping wet for him since he walked into my house. The tremors of orgasm were starting, and I pulled his head away.

  ‘Wait, wait –’

  He sat back, and then he opened his jeans. He wore tight black boxers outlining his cock. He was a god to look at, and even more so naked. He peeled them off quickly and his cock slapped stiff and upright against his stomach. There was a stab in my own stomach as I thought about all the young girls, my daughter included, who had looked and would look at and taste that gorgeous cock. All the years ahead of him of fucking.

  ‘We shouldn’t do this, darling –’

  ‘This isn’t a game. I’ll die if I don’t have you,’ he said roughly, shocking me. I opened my mouth to say You kids, how you exaggerate, but the expression on his face stopped me. He was squeezing my breasts almost thoughtfully now, as if I was some prize and he’d forgotten his own arousal, but the delicious pressure was sending me wild. I was all animal now. He’d get over this. But I wouldn’t. That’s why it had to be a game.

  ‘So have me,’ I growled, reaching for his big warm cock. My legs were trembling, my cunt contracting with angry desire. And there was his hot, hard cock, pulsing in my hand. ‘Now. Fuck me, big boy, before they get back from Grandma’s.’

  He grinned, white teeth biting his lip. It made him look so young. He was relieved, maybe, thinking that I was going to be so cool about this. He’d never know. He just knew he was back in charge again. He pushed me down, pinned both my arms above my head with one strong hand so I was powerless. I couldn’t touch him any more. My thighs squeezed his cute buttocks, trying to pull him into me, angle his cock up me, but he kept his hips back.

  ‘You’ll have to wait for that, Mrs. I’m hungry to suck these big, mother’s tits first.’

  He licked his lips over the dirty words. I arched my back and offered them to him like a slut. Let him have a real woman’s tits, then. Full and nurturing, yet bent on pain.

  He coiled that gorgeous torso over me, gripping my wrists, then he bared his teeth, took one burning red nipple into his mouth and sucked it so hard that the pleasure burned straight down to my cunt
and I wanted to close my legs to stop myself coming there and then, except that I couldn’t because I was split open and wrapped round him and every movement and rub and pressure urged my climax rocketing nearer.

  He sucked and bit and again that torturing thought of all the other girls and women and breasts he would caress streaked across my mind. I wanted him to bite until the agony sheared through me and wiped out any thought. I wanted to be the one to show him how debauched an older woman could be.

  He paused, then bit, and I screamed with the pleasure of it. His beautiful cock was lifting and banging against my thigh and I hitched myself without warning, tilted my pussy up so that he could feel the ready wetness of me smearing against his balls.

  The wet sound was suddenly huge in that cold quiet room, and it was time.

  He let go of my breasts and raised himself further up on his strong arms, so that he was hanging right over me like some kind of big warm hound. There was too much air and space between our bodies. Through that space I could see a feeble ray of winter sunshine arrowing briefly through the window. I wondered what the time was. How long before they all got back?

  And then he was closing the gap. I could feel the warmth of his torso before it came to rest on me, his elbows shaking with the effort to be gentle, and I sank into the soft bed beneath him, raising my hips to meet his, feeling the tip of that beautiful cock introducing itself to me. He was cautious, edging the first couple of inches inside, stopping and starting too gently. I started to wonder how many times, how many girls and had they all needed it gentle, and the thought stopped being painful and started exciting me. I was going to be the best he’d ever had. Was ever going to have.

  I pulled him hard and opened myself and my body swallowed his length easily, welcoming him, yes, in a motherly way because he was so fresh and new. I nearly screamed out loud with the naughtiness of it. I was making it easy for him to be the big man, to slide into me.

  My body merged with his so that I couldn’t tell where my stomach and pussy and legs ended and his stomach and cock and legs began. He rested on his forearms, leaned down and started kissing me again, nudging my mouth wide open so that his tongue could copy what his long hard cock was doing, reaching deep inside me, filling me completely and stopping my cries.

  I wished I had been there for his first time.

  As soon as his mouth slid sideways my cries started up, louder and higher, screeching round my empty house. The only other sound was the banging of the headboard against the wall. Normally I’d hate a distracting noise like that but the banging of the bed made me frantic with wicked lust. He thrust inside me and all the tiny muscles and surfaces of me gripped onto him, rubbed themselves against him to milk every last new exhilarating inch and sensation out of him, grinding on the wave of ecstasy. The wave started building and roaring. I looked at him. My knees flopped sideways. I was sluiced through with sheer gritty joy, and then there was the explosion I’d been waiting for ever since he walked into my house, and I was yelling out his name as his cock pumped in, out, in, his gorgeous young body pulling and pushing and straining to fuck and pleasure me and do it right. And then he caught up with me and shuddered and came and fell heavily on top of me.

  * * *

  His cock was in my mouth when they got home. The front door slammed, making the window and the bed rattle. I pulled his cock out, still rock hard, and kissed it. I pushed him down into the bed, arranged the sprigged duvet over him. Little boy. We snuffled with the motherliness of it. Our teacups and glasses rattled as I carried them to the door.

  ‘He’s asleep, guys,’ I called. ‘Think he’s got some kind of food poisoning, like me.’

  ‘Blame Dad’s cooking!’

  They stamped on through the hall, as if I was invisible.

  ‘No worries,’ called Steve in a hammy Australian accent.

  The girls giggled. ‘Patsy’s decided to stay with Grandma.’

  ‘What shall we do about Michel?’

  I glanced behind me. He had pushed the duvet off. He was standing right there in the doorway of the spare room, the light from the landing outlining his stiff cock. It was glistening wet with my saliva.

  ‘The stud,’ spluttered the girls. ‘Didn’t you hear them humping last night?’

  ‘So cool, these youngsters, nothing heavy, always on the move –’ Steve took his coat off. If he’d looked up he’d have seen his dull, ordinary, much slimmer wife in her shabby joggers, holding the banister as if I was sick, juice catching in my pubes where Michel had licked me.

  ‘What about Michel?’ I asked, dancing with impatience. The spare room bed creaked. He was lying down again, waiting for me.

  ‘We’re all going to Oz to visit the rellies, and Michel has a job in London.’ My husband tossed his coat on a hook, and headed for the kitchen. ‘You don’t mind, do you? Patsy wants you to stay here, and entertain him.’

  – Angela, Kent, UK

  Was It You?

  I’m definitely remaining anonymous for this one because I know a lot of guys who’d be completely freaked out.

  Maybe I’m just wicked, but I don’t see it that way. It really pisses me off when men are into watching two girls together but they won’t return the favour. Not that I mind snogging a friend, or even licking pussy if the mood is right, but, hey, if I’m going down on my mate, I want my boyfriend to go down on his. What’s wrong with that? I’d love to watch my boyfriend go down on some big hunky man’s cock and maybe take a load in his face so he knows how it feels.

  They never will, and it’s all bullshit. Hey, I’m not that into girls, but I’ll go for it to turn our men on, because there’s no harm in pussy licking. There’s no harm in sucking cock either, but the way most of my boyfriends react when I suggest they try it, you’d think I wanted them to go base jumping without a parachute. It’s only a cock, for fuck’s sake. I say most of my boyfriends. Really it’s all my boyfriends except one, which is where the confession bit comes in.

  When I was a teenager I always followed my heart and went for whoever I found the most attractive. OK, so that generally means going for who everybody else finds attractive, but I was popular and didn’t mind so much, at first anyway. The problem is that in almost any group of boys there will be one the girls single out as the best, which means he gets all the attention and inevitably gets big-headed about it and starts to cheat. It’s probably the same for boys too, but it’s a pain in the neck anyway and it’s happened to me more times than I can count. Three, actually, but you get the point. They’re also crap in bed, because they’re too used to getting what they want, blow jobs mainly, and they’re always pushing to go further and generally don’t give a shit about safe sex. Most of them are too full of macho bullshit to go down on me, never mind another bloke.

  Not that anything like that occurred to me until I was in my 20s, but things weren’t that much different then. It always seems to be the macho shitheads who go for me. Not wanting to get too vain, but I know I’m a cutie and most of them are more interested in having me as a trophy than for my own sake. That means they’re usually possessive as well. I got sick of all that after one seriously fucked-up relationship with a man who’d get into these stupid sulks even if I looked at a picture of another man in a magazine.

  I did toy with the idea of going out with an older man, as I get asked out by them often enough, but that doesn’t really do anything for me. What I wanted was someone with a nice body, but more fun. What I got was weird, but great. I’d just split up with the last macho man and was going through the stage when his mates come round and say how hurt he is and all of that. I just wanted out, and the best way was to be seen with a new man, so I suggested a date to a man at work who’d been mooning around me for months.

  He was a pretty sorry specimen, shorter than me for one thing, and very lightly built, but he does have nice eyes, very big and pale, which makes him look like a lost puppy. He behaves a bit like one too, always following at my heels and ever eager to please. Normally t
hat would just wind me up, but at the time I felt it was exactly what I needed. When I first suggested going out he thought I was trying to make fun of him, and I had to kiss him before he’d believe I was genuine.

  The date was really strange, more like being taken out by a shy teenager than a grown man. He turned up in a suit, took me to a Chinese restaurant and insisted on paying the bill. All evening he was really nervous, fidgeting and tripping over his words, so much that I began to wonder if he was going to ask for something seriously kinky afterwards. He didn’t. He didn’t even try to kiss me or give me the old line about coming up for coffee.

  That was really rather sweet, and I didn’t feel ready for sex with him anyway, so when he wrote me a really nice thank-you note and suggested another date I accepted. Not that I was even particularly attracted to him, but he brought out completely different feelings in me, including not knowing whether to pat him or kick him sometimes. I’ll call him Dog Boy, it fits.

  There was a bit of a problem when Macho Man found out I was seeing Dog Boy, all the usual bullshit about how he was going to beat him up etc, but that only made me all the more determined. I didn’t even tell Dog Boy because I thought he might be scared off. The second date had been much like the first, as the third would have been, only by that time I felt ready and invited him to come up.

  I have never known a guy so diffident about sex. He was turned on, rock-hard from the moment I got him out, and he admitted he had been for most of the evening, but he simply would not and will not make the first move and has to be led through the whole performance. Whenever I’d had sex before I’d always felt that it was me being fucked, which seems natural, but with Dog Boy it’s me doing the fucking, even if he is the one with the penis.

  I had him on his back, straddled across him, and the look on his face as he watched my tits bounce was so funny it made it hard to concentrate on what I was doing. He came really fast too, despite being in a condom like a rubber sack, which I’d had to put on for him. Not that I minded too much, because I’d already figured out that he would do anything I said. I told him he was going to have to lick me and he went straight down on me, no complaints at all. I had to teach him how to do it properly, but he was eager and I found I was really getting off on telling him what to do and being obeyed.