Honor MattersChapter 2 Debriefed
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The prison, not surprisingly, was so dull and miserable it seemed to affect the inmates, making them as grey as the walls. But at least Charlie appeared cheerful.
"You look gorgeous, darling,” he smiled, putting both hands against the glass partition.
"Thank you.” I smiled back and put my palms up to his. "How are you bearing up?"
“Fine. I'll be out of here in no time."
I felt like screaming but I maintained my smile. "Peter says the trial should go well."
"Let's hope so."
"Is he looking after you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine… I really am."
"We did well to get him, you know. He’s very expensive."
“Yes, but they say he's good."
I nodded and thought about just how good he was, especially with his hugely thick, black cock. I shifted in my seat, my mind full of erotic images.
“Yes, he’s very good,” I managed to say.
“Just make sure you do everything he tells you."
"I will, darling."
"I think he wants me to work for him in the office."
“Good… See, I told you, he's the best."
Yes, I thought, no-one’s ever made me come like he does.
Charlie stared at me and took a deep breath. ”I think they're going to transfer me to the moor.”
“Dartmoor? Oh dear… but don’t worry, I'll still come to see you."
"You're a good wife, baby. I'm lucky to have you.” Again he inhaled. “Look, I don't want you staying at home every night worrying about me. I want you to go out, spend some money, enjoy yourself."
I offered a small smile. ”I'll try, darling."
We made more small talk for the rest of the visit and then, thankfully, the bell rang, indicating that time was up. I made my tearful goodbyes.
I knew Charlie was a crook when I first met him. I was eighteen and he was forty-two, and we married less than a year later.
He was now locked up awaiting trial because he’d got caught holding up a post office with a sawn-off shotgun. Charlie faced a ten-year stretch but the poor deluded fool thought he might get five years. And he certainly was deluded if he thought I’d wait for him. I'd be in my prime by the time he came out and he'd be an old man.
Peter was the same age as Charlie — but with a difference. Peter had money that he'd earned, he had style and class, and above all, he made me come like a train.
When I walked out of the prison that day, Peter was waiting in his car and he immediately sprang out to open the door for me.
“Nice," he laughed as he caught a glimpse of my inner thighs.
"Where are we going?" I asked as he swung the powerful car onto the road.
"I thought a meal in a nice country hotel I know, followed by a walk down by the river, a few drinks in a pub, and then an early night at the hotel. How's that sound?"
“Almost perfect,” I said, “but can't we have the early night first?"
He laughed and reached over to place a hand on my knee. "We could rest for a while after dinner, if you like."
I held his hand and guided it up beneath my skirt. I wasn't wearing panties and the car weaved a little when he felt my soft, wet pussy.
"I like that idea; do you?"
"My God, Kathy,” he grinned, "you're incorrigible."
I turned my head to look at Peter’s profile. “You know, I was dying to tell him in there."
"What, that you were naked under your skirt?"
“Yes — and that I was going to show you."
"The poor man would go mad if he knew."
"He'll find out eventually."
“Yes, but I'll be retired by then and living far away with my sexy young wife."
We stopped at an out-of-town retail outlet where I bought a long, white evening gown and some sluttish underwear. Peter loved what I bought. He practically drooled in our hotel room when I showed him the minuscule g-strings and quarter-cup bras. The stockings and thigh-high leather boots had his tongue on the floor, especially when I told him they were for his eyes only.
The gown fitted me like a second skin. The built-in bra lifted my boobs and presented my generous cleavage to its full advantage. The underskirt meant that I could wear stockings without any lines showing.
“Kathy, you look sensational."
"And you look so distinguished," I told him, breathing in his aftershave, "and extremely sexy, too."
"Keep that thought, Kathy."
"I've thought it since the first time I met you in your office."
His eyes sparkled as he gazed at me. ”Hmm… shall we dine?" he said and I nodded before hooking an arm through his.
I knew I looked good and heads turned as we took our seats in the dining room. I saw envious glances from the women as well as naked lust on the faces of men.
We had traditional roast lamb with mint sauce. It was cooked and served to perfection and the accompanying red wine was superb. Peter was great company, regaling me with tales of his childhood and his university years.
"I'm sorry," he suddenly said. "I must be boring you."
I shook my head and squeezed his hand, "No, not at all, I'm fascinated. But I can't help wondering what you see in me."
"What I see, dear Kathy, is a very beautiful, yet very vulnerable young lady who had a bad start in life. I see a child in a woman's body. I see someone who has turned my life upside down, someone who I'm beginning to care for very much indeed."
I felt myself blushing and he smiled again. "Professional ethics will force me to drop your husband's case. You understand that, don’t you?”
"I know.” I paused, concentrating on folding my napkin. Then I looked into his eyes. ”But is there anything in your code of ethics that stops you from taking me upstairs now and shagging my brains out?"
He chortled. "I don't think so. I’ll just sign for the meal and then we’re good to go.”
~~~~
He undressed me slowly, kissing every inch of skin as he uncovered it. He took an age removing my panties, and by the time he came to take off his own clothes, I was wet and panting for him.
For a man approaching middle age, he was in superb condition, and I lay on the bed stroking myself while admiring his thick, black cock.
"Is that all for me?" I asked and then shrieked as he dived on me like a caveman and parted my legs. There was no more foreplay or finesse about it: he was rock hard and I was like a swamp. Peter didn’t need help, no guidance to find where we wanted his magnificent tool to be, and I welcomed him with open arms and spread legs as he thrust straight into me.
"Oh yes," I gasped into his mouth, "this is what I was born for, a real man inside me. Fuck me, Peter… fill me, make me fucking scream with your great cock."
I felt him quiver inside me as I spoke and then he whispered in my ear, "Say that again, Kathy."
"Make me fucking scream… shag me with your big dick, fuck me, fucking hurt me.” I gasped, feeling his cock expanding in my depths. “Oh yes, I’m yours, darling. Treat me like your fucking slut."
He was like a train powering into my tunnel. It felt like all the nerve-endings in my body had relocated in my cunt. His big hands gripped my buttocks and I squealed when a finger prodded my rear hole.
“God, yes, do that again." He did and I squealed again, feeling myself on the edge of orgasm. He was sweating, the veins in his neck standing out, as I kissed his throat and nibbled his earlobe.
"Shove your finger right up me,” I hissed and again squealed with delight.
“Kathy, Kathy,” he gasped, driving both his cock and finger into me. “Kathy… I’m… I'm coming. Oh, God, yesss.”
The solid bar of steel that was his prick erupted and I felt his seed splattering against the walls of my cunt while lights flashed in my eyes, bells rang, and the most powerful orgasm I'd ever had engulfed me.
I dug my fingers into his broad back and arched to meet him, crying and sobbing, jerking and trembling with massive spasms of pleasure until, suddenly, it was over, leaving me with an incredible feeling of well being. I relaxed into its embrace.
"Why are you crying?" Peter asked, his voice quiet as he touched his lips to my brow and then lifted my chin with one finger. I shook my head. "Come on, sweetheart, please,” he said, but again I shook my head and burrowed into his warmth.
"Did I hurt you?"
“No… no, not at all."
"What then?"
"It's just that… well, you know, I've never felt so safe. With him, there was always going to be a knock on the door — the police, or one of his shady mates. We could never go out because we never had any money. Do you know, I've never been on holiday?"
"Not even to the coast?"
"Never."
"We'll soon sort that one out. I didn't tell you but I've got a villa on the island of Gran Canaria. I was thinking of asking you if you'd like to go."
Would I? ”I'd love it,” I said, sniffling.
"Right, that's settled then. Come on, wipe those tears. Let’s get dressed and go to the pub.”
~~~~
We had a fantastic evening. There was an old upright piano in the pub and he amazed me by asking the landlord if he could play it.
"How the 'ell should I know?" the landlord said grumpily. "You can either play it or you bloody can't."
Peter sat on the stool, flexed his fingers, and showed he was as one with the piano by playing tune after tune, everything from Fats Domino to Elton John. The whole pub sang along and we didn't buy a drink all night.
I even gave them a rather bad version of ‘The wind beneath my wings.’ It was awful and I knew it, but I never took my eyes off Peter while singing and there were a few wet eyes in the pub.
"Yer've got yerself a little cracker there, mate." the landlord said.
Peter nodded. "Yes, I know."
Back inside our hotel room, I pushed him against the door and unfastened his shirt while we kissed. He kicked his shoes off and I divested him of the rest. A low growl escaped his lips when I grasped his prick and sucked and licked it like a lollipop.
With my free hand, I kneaded his heavy balls until he gasped that I should stop. I did — but only while I leaned against the door and stuck my bottom toward him.
“It's for you," I said as he eased my panties down. "You'll be my first."
And I was coming even before I felt his massive thickness nudging at my back hole.
~~~~
"Peter thinks I need a holiday."
"Good idea. See my mate, Tony, he'll fix you up with a little caravan somewhere."
“Actually, Peter's got a place on an island in the Atlantic."
"We can't afford anything like that, baby."
“Peter will pay. In fact, he’ll take me there himself."
“Oh. Wow.” Charlie slowly shook his head, a smile spreading on his face. “Told you how good he was, didn't I?"
I stared at him across the table "He says he won't be able to represent you anymore."
Charlie looked confused and raised his eyebrows. "Why not? I need him. I'm fucking paying for him.”
“Well, he says it wouldn't be ethical if he and I were having a relationship."
“A relationship? But you're not having a relationship.” Then his eyes opened wide and he gripped the table edges. “You’re not, are you?"
"Yes," I said softly. "We're lovers. I'm sorry, Charlie.”
In that moment, he seemed to age ten years, his shoulders slumped, and he stared at me. He finally broke the silence, loudly. "I trusted you,” he sneered.
“Sorry,” I repeated, ”but we’re finished. I want a divorce."
“A divorce,” he yelled, and the room hushed. “What fucking good will a divorce do you when you're fucking dead?"
I quickly got up from my chair and stood back. The warders were watching and waiting for Charlie to make a move.
“You fucking slag, I’ll rip your fucking throat out."
Four screws grabbed him and dragged him away, screaming, shouting, and foaming at the mouth.
~~~~
The weather was almost unbearably hot. We lay naked, halfway up a sand dune just yards from the ocean. It took only a few moments to run into the water to cool off and then return to the serious business of getting a tan.
"I'm trying to decide,” said Peter, “whether I prefer you naked or wearing a g-string.” It was so casual, it sounded like a throwaway line.
"I prefer the string,” I grinned, “so you can take it off with your teeth. Whatever, string or not, I love being naked out here with you. I never knew such places existed.”
“Oh, they exist all right,” he said. “In fact, I’d guarantee that on the other side of this very dune, people are having sex as we speak.”
“Really? Hmm… so it would be all right if we went behind and I sucked your cock?”
“Absolutely,” he laughed and immediately stood.
“Oh my God.” I put a hand to my mouth and then laughed. Peter’s stunning cock was already rising to a magnificent, pulsing erection. This looked like being quite a holiday.
Thanks to JWren for his help
Marisol
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