Learning With Lou - Part 2 free porn video

“Well?” asked Lou as I joined her in the far corner table of an anonymous branch of a national coffee house chain. “What’s the latest on your young admirer?”

It was two days since my gorgeous teenage stepson Richie had groped and fondled me in our kitchen after the two of us had been for a run - the ‘kitchen incident’ as I now thought of it. Richie and I hadn’t said a word to each other about what had happened and seemed to be making excuses to avoid being alone.

My mind was fuddled. In the first place there was little doubt that Richie’s touch had been sexual and that a stepson should not touch his stepmother in that way.

There was even less doubt that I should have put a stop to it immediately.

There was no doubt at all that I had not even tried to stop him.

There was plenty of doubt in my mind as to why that was.

There was no telling how far we might have gone if the phone hadn’t interrupted us.

I told myself that, if it really was just a normal part of having a maturing teenage boy in the house then I didn’t want to say or do anything to damage his development or – worse – ruin his rapidly maturing relationship with his father, my husband.

The disturbing truth was that feeling that young man’s hands on my body in that way had given me a tremendous thrill, the like of which I had seldom experienced in my very limited sex life.

I needed advice and I needed it badly. And there was only one person I could go to so there I was in the coffee shop in a fluster. The lunchtime rush hadn’t started and cafe was nearly empty. All the same, I looked carefully around to make sure I couldn’t be overheard before answering Lou’s question and telling my friend my shameful secret.

“He touched me,” I whispered, leaning as close to Lou as I could without drawing attention to myself.

“For real?” she asked, her eyes wide and a look of satisfaction on her face.

I nodded slowly.

“Where?” she immediately demanded.

“In the kitchen,” I replied quietly.

Lou burst out laughing.

“I meant, which bits of you did he touch?” she eventually managed to say between giggles. “But if you want to set the scene that’s okay.”

Embarrassed, I took a long slow sip of strong coffee and composed my thoughts before delivering a fairly detailed and honest précis of the morning’s events. I told her exactly how far he had got and what he had touched but left out the bit about how good his attentions had made me feel.

When I had finished, Lou leaned back in her seat as if pondering the situation. Her eyes seemed to be boring into mine as if trying to read my mind. Eventually she spoke in a quiet, confidential voice.

“Linda, if I tell you something in complete confidence, will you promise me you’ll keep it that way? And I mean totally secret forever?”

“Of course,” I said, leaning in to get closer.

“I’ve never told anyone this before; you have to promise never to tell another soul.”

This both worried and intrigued me.

“Of course, Lou. Cross my heart.”

She looked at me strangely again then began slowly.

“You know I had a stepson too, that like you I married a divorcee with a child?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well that’s not the only similarity between us.” She looked anxiously left and right before continuing. “My stepson had a serious crush on me too.”

“Wow! You’ve never mentioned that before!”

“It’s not something I want widely known. You see Linda...” she was clearly very embarrassed and hesitant. “I let things get a bit out of control.”

I was gobsmacked.

“You mean he wanted to touch you too?”

Lou nodded. “And, like you, I found it exciting and let it happen.”

“How far did it go?” I asked. “Further than Richie and I have got?”

She nodded again. “Much further.”

I sat back in astonishment. This really was news! I had thought I was the only second wife in this predicament but it seemed not. Perhaps it was much more common than I had thought.

“Did you actually have sex with him?” I whispered, my eyes wide open in astonishment.

Lou nodded slowly.

“More than once?” I asked, both excited and horrified.

She nodded again.

“How long did it last?”

“Six months.”

“Six months!” this was getting more amazing by the moment.

“Thereabouts,” Lou said quietly.

“Did your husband ever find out?” I asked.

“No. We were very careful. Besides, he was like Colin; always at work. We had plenty of opportunity.”

“Didn’t he notice?” I needed to know. “I mean you must have behaved differently with all three of you in the house together.” A thought struck me. “And you must have looked different too. Afterwards I mean.”

I stopped before my thoughts and words grew too graphic. Even with my very limited experience I knew my body looked quite different after sex. Surely a husband would know his wife’s body well enough to realise something was going on.

“It’s amazing what a husband can ignore or not see at all,” she said frankly. “And of course at first our own sex life burst into life too. He loved that so much he didn’t question what was causing it.”

This puzzled me. I would have thought that having a young lover would have reduced rather than increased her desire for her husband. I would have thought it would have made him suspicious too but when I said so, Lou was insistent.

“Don’t you believe it, Linda. Once my stepson and I started sleeping together my libido absolutely soared. It might have partly been guilt but I found I needed my husband in bed more and more too. Our sex life blossomed; I had never had as much good sex in my life, even when I was a student.”

“And your husband,” I asked, realising for the first time that Lou almost never talked about her ex at all; that I actually didn’t even know his name, let alone his son’s.

“For most of the time he was like the cat that got the cream. He’d seldom had as much sex either. It would never have occurred to him that I was having a little youthful assistance on the side.”

This was incredible. My friend’s affair with her stepson had actually improved her relationship with his father!

“How did it end? Happily?” I asked. “I mean, assuming it has ended,” I added in shock.

This time my friend smiled.

“It ended and it ended well. He went to college, found a girlfriend and moved on. I missed the attention and the sex of course but it ran its natural course.”

“You’re very relaxed about it Lou.”

“What else should I be? It was a wonderful experience, we both got a lot of pleasure out of it. He grew up quickly, learning about sex in a safe, controlled way; I had a wonderfully pleasurable experience. My husband and I rekindled our love life.”

“And you think it might do the same for me?” I suggested.

“Linda, something as big as this has to be your decision. All I will say is that it was an amazing experience for me and for my stepson. It did no harm to anyone – in fact it did us all a great deal of good.”

She looked around the room which was filling up. The tables next to ours would be occupied soon. Lou raised a finger to her lips.

“Enough for now okay? Walls have ears!” she grinned.

I sat back in my seat amazed, my head spinning.

*

Richie and I ran together before breakfast for the next three mornings without incident, well almost. My fitness had improved beyond recognition; although he could have outrun me anytime, no longer was I trailing miles behind my young stepson as we sped through the nearby streets and local woodland.

After each run we did our stretching exercises before showering. At first, as he helped me get into just the right positions, Richie’s hands remained in innocuous places on my body. To my shame, I found myself disappointed, a feeling reinforced by the vivid erotic dream I enjoyed that night, one in which I found myself waking, calling out my stepson’s name into the darkness of the bedroom.

Thank God Colin was a sound sleeper!

By the end of the second post-run session however those wonderful, youthful hands had resumed their ‘accidental’, tentative straying; finding their innocent way onto my boobs, hips and buttocks as if testing to see what reaction they would produce.

And what was that reaction? Although I tried so hard to give him no encouragement, my body kept betraying me with clearly visible, hardening nipples and dampening shorts that the young man couldn’t fail to notice.

On the fourth morning, Saturday, we arrived back at the house after a particularly long and challenging run through the woodland behind our garden. Colin, as usual, had gone into work for the morning so there had been no time pressure. It had been beautiful; early morning sun, the smell of the trees, the song of birds and only our footsteps to break the magic.

I had run well too, was still feeling strong and was on a real physical high as we stretched and cooled down outside the kitchen door.

“Need a drink?” I asked, beaming at Richie as I went into the house.

“Just water thanks Linda,” he replied, continuing his exercises.

I went into the house, took two long glass tumblers from the cupboard and went to the sink to fill them. I ran the tap for a while to let the water get cool, watching my young stepson through the window.

He looked amazing; young and strong with long, powerful legs, a tight torso and well-defined, muscular shoulders and arms. A moment later he had stripped off his running top. I gasped as I saw the clearly-defined lines of the pectoral muscles on his chest and beneath them, the impressive beginnings of a six-pack belly.

My own tummy ached and rumbled as I stood frozen, unable to tear my eyes away from the teenage Adonis before me. I felt cold water overflowing the tumbler in my hand but ignored it, my attention fixed on the scene through the window.

In all my life I had never felt like this before; for the first time I knew what lust really meant. Then Richie looked up, his gaze flashed onto the kitchen window and through it, onto my own admiring eyes. For a second or two our eyes locked onto each other, both of us frozen to the spot.

Then, slowly and deliberately, Richie picked up his damp shirt and disappeared from view. I turned off the running tap but otherwise was simply unable to move.

I heard the kitchen door open and close. I heard soft footsteps across the tiled floor. I felt movement in the room behind me but couldn’t turn my head. I felt the heat of a human body at my back. I felt the touch of human hands on my waist and on my hips.

I did nothing but close my eyes.

Unseen hands ran up and down my sides, over my bottom then came around my torso and up to my chest where they cupped my boobs through my running shirt.

I did nothing.

The hands descended to my waist then I felt my shirt beginning to rise, higher and higher until it was bunched under my armpits.

Still I did nothing.

I felt the hands under the elastic of my sports bra, flipping it up as they had before, exposing my boobs with their already-rock-hard nipples.

Instinctively, I leaned back against the young, strong chest I hoped was directly behind me. It was there, even younger, even stronger and smelling of fresh, masculine sweat.

The hands began to toy with my bared boobs, cupping their globes, running my nipples between their fingers, kneading and squeezing with an expertise I had never expected. I sighed loudly as my body responded in the only way it knew; lubricating for all it was worth.

Deep inside me a voice nagged that this was wrong; that I had already had one lucky escape; that I couldn’t reply on the telephone bell to save me this time.

But I didn’t want to be saved this time. This time was completely different.

Richie’s hands left my boobs and slipped down my body until they found my shorts and slipped inside. A moment later the rough warmth of his palms was on my bare buttocks, cupping and squeezing them as they had my boobs, his fingers tracing the soft crease at the top of my thighs.

I sighed again.

“Richie...” I began to protest but there was no conviction in my voice.

“Shhhh!” he hissed in my ear.

“But...”

“Shhhh! It’s okay!”

I knew it wasn’t okay; it was anything but okay. But still, resistance was beyond me.

I didn’t resist when he lowered my shorts to my knees, exposing my sparse dark triangle.

I didn’t resist when his fingers danced over my mound.

I didn’t resist when they ran the full length of my dripping slit.

I didn’t resist when he turned me round to face him, when he took the tumbler out of my hand, when his lips found mine, when his tongue entered my mouth.

We kissed and kissed, as his young hands explored every inch of my exposed body from the shorts that bunched at my knees to the bra wedged under my armpits. Strong, young but surprisingly expert fingers stroked my throat, back, boobs, belly and buttocks before returning once again to the growing heat between my thighs.

My legs parted instinctively, giving him precious access to my most private places. For a long time, my young stepson fingered me, his stepmother. My belly filled with heat, my loins burned, my thighs turned to jelly as that young man’s magic fingertips explored every part of my vulva.

I could feel my clitoris swelling, surging forwards from its hooded hiding place as if begging for attention. And he delivered that attention; not even at school had I received a fingering like this.

Then Richie was steering me away from the sink. I backed slowly and compliantly without breaking our embrace until I felt the hardness of the kitchen table against the underside of my buttocks. His hands gripped my waist, lifting me slightly until I was perched on the its edge.

Then his fingers moved quickly to the hem of my running shirt. Just as before, my hands flew to his neck but this time when he peeled the tight fabric upwards, I made no attempt to stop him and in a trice, the vest top was lifted up and away, leaving me in my dark, ugly lifted sports bra.

Our mouths had parted to make way for the shirt to pass, but as soon as it was gone, we fell into a passionate embrace again. Mouth locked on mouth; lips pressed hard against lips, tongue entwined with tongue.

My bra still flipped up, fully exposing my boobs; his hands were on them again in an instant. Richie’s tongue plunged into my open mouth again as his fingers kneaded my soft pale boobs with a firmness just short of painful but which made the lustful side of my nature surge.

Bewildered by the speed things were happening, I could only stroke his arms and sides in completely inadequate response. My befuddled mind told me that things were going too far; much too far; that I had to stop it now before it was too late.

But my body was sending very different messages; messages that were drowning out the warnings. My nipples were so hard they ached; my lower belly felt warm and was getting warmer; my chest rose and fell as my breathing became deeper and noisier, and as for the heat between my thighs....

Sensing my mounting arousal, Richie took complete control. His hands abandoned my boobs and fell to my hips, then to my bare buttocks. My shorts were roughly pulled down my lower legs and thrown away leaving me fully exposed, my weeping vulva naked in front of the teenage boy I wanted to take me.

I could feel his erection pressing against my thighs; for a moment memories of teenage parties and clumsy schoolboy groping flashed through my mind, but Richie was no schoolboy, and I was certainly no little girl.

Warning bells ran around my head again but to no avail; I was lost in lust. The inevitable was happening; why had I ever fought against it?

Richie’s pushed me back onto the table, my feet leaving the floor as his young, strong body blocked out the light from the kitchen window. Our eyes locked together, my heart was thumping in my chest and my tummy was full of butterflies, but the fire burning in my groin overwhelmed everything else.

My legs parted instinctively, thighs spreading wide, opening my most secret place to my husband’s son. Richie was pulling his shorts down violently, and I felt something slap against my mound. I reached down; my fingers closed on a long, smooth pole of teenage muscle. With a gulp, I took it in my hand and directed its rounded head towards my open, turgid flesh.

It was going to happen! There, in our kitchen, on the table at which we ate our breakfast every morning.

Our eyes still locked together in silence, we both gasped as I rubbed Richie’s head up and down my weeping slit, over and around my engorged clitoris and down until it nested between my inner lips.

I leaned back on my elbows on the table; legs splayed wide, my stepson’s cock poised to enter my body. His face merely inches above mine, Richie paused for a moment, his eyebrows raised slightly as if in question.

The moment of truth had come; the last moment in which I could remain faithful to my husband or surrender to his son. The point at which I must choose between fidelity and the path to ruin.

Lou’s words kept spinning round in my head.

“It’s only natural.. He can’t help it... The most natural thing in the world...”

There was no choice.

“Yes! Yes! Do it,” I begged under my breath. “Please!”

And then my life changed forever. I felt Richie’s body flex, the muscles of his arms and chest went tight, his back arched and his hips were thrust powerfully forwards.

“AaaahhhHHHH!”

My voice was little more than a whisper as, slowly but confidently, the erect penis of my husband’s son entered my body and my life was turned upside down.

From the moment Richie’s long, thick cock sawed its way deep into my well-lubricated vagina, filling me more than I had imagined possible; delving deeper into my body than any man had ever been before, I knew I was lost.

He paused as he bottomed out within me; our pubic mounds grinding hard together. My entrance stretched tightly by his thick base, my body reeling from the deep, satisfying fullness within me.

Richie looked down on me, I looked up at him. His mouthwateringly sexy eyes locked onto my own dreamy, tearful pupils as surely as our groins were now joined. Neither of us spoke a word, as if speaking would break the magic and make us realise what we had just done.

I bit my lower lip as he slowly drew himself back until only the head of his cock was inside me, then...

Slap!

“Ahh!”

Richie drove himself firmly and smoothly into my vagina, his strong hands on my knees, holding my legs up and apart.

He did it again.

“AhHH!” I gasped.

Slap!

Slap!

“Oh yes!”

It took barely a dozen thrusts from that amazing young cock before my body was trembling with arousal and excitement.

“Richieeeeee!”

I felt his hands on the back of my knees, lifting my legs even higher, parting my thighs even wider until my vulva was grotesquely displayed and open wide.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

His thrusting began in earnest, the speed gradually building, the depth increasing with every stroke.

“Be... be gentle,” I gasped stupidly as if a virgin once again. “Please!”

“Oh Linda,” he hissed, almost the first words he had spoken since he had first touched me. “You’re so sexy! So beautiful.”

Whether it was true or not, it was what I wanted to hear. He thrust a few times more, slowly and deeply.

“You feel sooo good!” he whispered. “Sooo smooth! Sooo tight!”

Slap! Slap! Slap!

It felt good for me too. Richie’s erect cock seemed to fit my weeping vagina to perfection, as if every ridge and vein on his shaft had found its perfect valley or trough inside me. Nothing in my life thus far had prepared me for the sensations that began to fill my body and mind as my eighteen year old stepson began to fuck my helpless body.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

“Mmmmm!”

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

“Oh God! That feels soooo good!” My voice grew earthier and a little louder.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

“Oh my God. That’s amazing! Oh God just fuck me, Richie!”

“What did you say, Linda?”

Jesus! What had I said? Where had those words come from? Surely not from my mouth!

“Just… Fuck... Me...!”

But there they were again!

Slap! Slap! Slap! SLAP!

Richie’s thrusting grew faster and harder. I gripped the edge of the table tightly in my hands and waited for the onslaught. It wasn’t long in coming.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

His youthful cock ploughed into me over and over again. The room filled with the crude, feral sounds of an over-lubricated female body being penetrated violently by a young male one.

And the female body was mine!

The first minor climax followed within moments, a wave of heat rippling outwards from my groin.

“OhhhhyyyessSSS!”

Reading my increasing arousal like an expert, Richie increased both the speed and power of his thrusts again, lifting my legs until my knees were pressed hard against my boobs. I was helpless in his hands, my vulva obscenely exposed.

The first major, body-shaking orgasm arrived soon afterwards.

“AaaaaayyyyYYYYYYYY!”

Slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap-slap!

“JEEEESUSSSSCCHHRRIIIISSSTTT!”

The earthy, bodily smell of a climaxing woman filled my nostrils as I came as I had never cum before, my whole body in spasm shaking and pulsating on the smooth, slippery table top.

Shlap-shlap-shlap-shlap-shlap-shlap-shlap-shlap!

The sounds in the room were wet; disgustingly redolent of their illicit cause but if anything made me even more aroused.

“OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGODDDD!”

Richie’s thrusts grew jack-hammer fast, forcing me bodily up the increasingly-slippery table. I grabbed wildly at its edge with my fingers but it was no use; he was too strong and my control too weak. He pulled my legs hard, dragging me back towards his thrusting hips, his cock driven so hard into my body it felt like I had been punched in the belly.

He pulled me even closer then, with his cock still buried inside me Richie took me in his powerful arms and lifted me bodily from the table. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his upper thighs like a koala, desperate to keep that amazing young shaft inside my vagina then to my amazement, staggering only slightly, my powerful young stepson simply carried me up the stairs, crossed the landing to the bedroom my husband and I shared and laid me on my back on the clean white duvet.

A moment later his hands were on me, pulling off my ugly sports bra, spread my unresisting legs. He stripped his last remaining clothes, climbed between my obscenely spread thighs…

And for the next hour fucked the living daylights out of me!

Not before or since have I ever enjoyed sex like that first magical hour. Where that young boy had learned such self-control I had no idea but the result on my inexperienced body was almost indescribable. Taking his time but sparing no energy, my young stepson gave me the most thorough, most comprehensive fucking of my entire life.

I lost count of the number of climaxes I enjoyed, but I know that during that earth-shattering hour he ejaculated inside me at least twice, his handsome young face inches from mine, his powerful body in helpless spasm.

Afterwards, as I lay dozing like a baby in my young lover’s arms, my fingers entwined in the soft downy hair on his muscular chest, my body trembling with the aftershocks of multiple orgasms, tears rolling down my cheeks, I knew my life had changed.

An hour after that when Richie rolled off my exhausted, spent body for the last time that day, I knew I would never be the same girl again. Sex with my husband had been wonderful, comforting, often exciting and frequently ending in orgasm. But this was so, so different. Oh God was this different!

Sex with a fit, strong boy ten years younger than me was like a narcotic; life affirming; taking me to heights of arousal I never imagined existed.

And we had barely started.

*

I stood in the shower for a long time, feeling the hot water washing the external evidence of my infidelity from my body. My face and chest were flushed from repeated orgasms; I hoped and prayed that the pinkness would have subsided before Colin came home.

My hips ached, my boobs were sore and as for my vulva…

Small trickles of Richie’s semen kept dribbling from between the dark, still-swollen lips between my thighs as the sticky evidence of his multiple ejaculations gradually left my body. Having only known my husband’s semen, I was amazed at the sheer volume of pale, sperm-filled fluid that a young man could produce and quietly thanked God that I had remained on the pill throughout my marriage.

If I still had a marriage!

*

“Oh my God! You’ve done it!”

Lou’s voice was low and hushed but the expression on her face was excited; almost triumphant.

I raised an eyebrow in silent question as I sat opposite her in a quiet corner of the local wine bar that Thursday evening. So completely caught up in my new sexual relationship, I hadn’t seen my friend for a full ten days and had missed both the exercise classes she and I usually attended.

“Don’t even try and deny it, Linda,” she insisted as I settled onto my stool. “You’ve done it with him. And more than once, I reckon. Just look at you! I’ve never seen body language like it!”

I was horrified! In my naiveté I had believed that all outward signs of my having started an affair with my husband’s son were completely hidden. The fact that my good friend Lou could tell in an instant that I was no longer a faithful wife was both very troubling and, I had to confess, more than a little exciting.

“Shhh!” I hissed anxiously, looking round to see if anyone had heard. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes of course it is! Well, it is to me anyway,” Lou insisted.

“How?” I asked anxiously.

In truth it was little more than an hour since Richie and I had left the bed I shared with my still-working husband. The boy had delivered one of the most intense orgasms of my life and I had been forced to wear a high-necked top to conceal both the pink flush on my chest and the rapidly-darkening hickey on my neck.

Clearly as a tactic it hadn’t worked as Lou’s continued hushed talk demonstrated.

“You look... well, so different. Your face; the way you move; your body!”

I looked around the bar to see if anyone else I knew was there.

“Don’t worry;” Lou said with a chuckle. “It’s not so obvious anyone else would know; you just look like you’ve just had a tough exercise class.” She laughed. “I suppose in a way, you have, and not long ago. Am I right?”

I nodded, blushing.

“Well congratulations, Linda,” Lou said, raising her wine glass to me, her words sounding very sincere. “I’m really pleased! You finally had the guts to let yourself go and give him what you both needed.”

I blushed. But Lou hadn’t finished.

“It’s not everyone who would have the courage; I hope you really enjoy yourselves – both of you.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, embarrassed, squirming in my seat and drinking my coffee too quickly.

“When did it finally start?” she asked, moving her chair closer to mine though there was no-one to overhear.

I told her honestly – well, mostly honestly.

“Was it just the once?”

I shook my head. Lou’s eyes opened wide.

“How often?” she demanded.

“Every day,” I confessed quietly.

“Every day?” she asked, her eyes wide in amazement.

I nodded.

“Sometimes more than once.”

“Jesus Linda! That’s amazing! When you do something you really throw yourself into it, don’t you?”

I flushed pink.

“You mustn’t ever tell anyone,” I hissed. “Promise me, Lou!”

“I promise! I promise,” she said with a grin. “But you’ve got to admit, this is something a bit special.”

“I thought you and your stepson...” I began but she cut me off.

“Yes but that was then! This is now and it’s you doing it; sweet, innocent Linda! I’m so pleased for you! For both of you!”

She sounded really pleased too. I began to relax a little.

“Was it good?” she suddenly asked, her eyes blazing with mischief. “Is he good?”

I leaned as close to her as I could.

“Lou, it was incredible. I’ve never known anything like it!”

“Wow! I told you it would be great, didn’t I? You can’t beat a young energetic boy in bed!”

“I know. I can’t believe it’s me saying this but it was amazing. He takes me to places I never knew existed.”

“Better than Colin?”

I took a deep breath.

“Colin is great; caring, loving, patient and understanding. Richie isn’t any of those things but I don’t want him to be. He’s rough and selfish and a bit too big for me but he’s got so much energy. He makes me feel...” I couldn’t finish.

“Sounds like I’m missing out on something,” Lou said wistfully. “Anyway, if you’re going to have a lover ten years younger than you, we need to make sure you stay in good shape for him, right?”

I laughed.

“You’re always so practical, Lou. And as always you’re right.”

“Great! So we need an exercise plan, a carb-free diet and are you still taking those detox teas every day?”

“Of course,” I said truthfully.

The teas were having a bit of a laxative effect on me but I was definitely feeling better so had stuck to the detox programme like glue, sometimes even adding a few extra cups.

“Then we’re all fixed. Lovely Linda’s Little Lover won’t know what hit him! Go for it, girl!”

*

A month later my life had changed and changed forever; I was a fallen woman, an unfaithful wife, but I didn’t care.

I knew full well I should have called a halt to the affair after the first time. There shouldn’t even have been a first time; I should never have let him even see my boobs in the first place, let alone touch them.

But I had let it all happen, was still letting it happen and was loving every moment!

Throughout the whole summer, Richie had me wherever and whenever he wanted me, and you can imagine how often a fit, healthy eighteen-year-old boy wanted me.

From Monday to Friday he came home from school around four. I came home about five-thirty. My husband returned from work around seven thirty. That left an hour to get dinner and another hour for Richie to do whatever he liked with me.

And there was so much he liked to do with me! And like a woman under a spell, I did whatever he wanted, whenever and wherever he wanted it. I dressed as he wanted; I tried whatever he wanted to try; I even said whatever words he wanted to hear.

I’ve heard the expression ‘pussy-whipped’ to describe men whose wives or girlfriends control them completely through sex. Well, I became whatever the female equivalent is – ‘cock struck’ might be a useful phrase. I would do anything to keep my young lover in my bed and in my body.

It was like a drug; an addiction I simply couldn’t break. In truth it was an addiction I didn’t want to break!

My sex life with my husband which had already been failing now became non-existent. Apart from being constantly exhausted, I daren’t let Colin anywhere near me after Richie had had his way; the signs of recent sex on my body would be obvious. As it was, I had to keep the upstairs windows open every afternoon to let the smell of sex dissipate before Colin went up to bed.

Looking back, it’s hard to believe I was so stupid but there’s no denying it; I was!

Until the end of term and then through the whole summer break, Richie and I made love almost every weekday and at the weekends too when Colin was busy playing golf or going into work to deal with some crisis. We tried every position and location imaginable and many I hadn’t dreamed existed; we spent whole nights together in my marital bed too when Colin was away on business.

If it hadn’t been for my job and Richie’s summer work in a local shop, we might never have left our bed.

Even my meetings with Lou became fewer and further apart, my days merely filling in the gaps between bedroom encounters with Richie. It wasn’t just the bedroom too; as a joke we set ourselves the challenge of having sex in every room in the house within a single week. We would have managed it too if Colin’s weekend away hadn’t been cancelled.

I dropped another dress size with all the exercise I was getting both running and sleeping with Richie. Lou’s detox plan was clearly working too so I stuck with the strange diet and odd-tasting teas throughout.

But the magic couldn’t last forever and in September Richie went off to University. His school course had finished; he had passed with flying colours and was about to embark on the next stage in his life. He had told Colin and me that on graduation, he planned to get a job close to his father and his new home rather than go back to Scotland.

I knew better than to believe that but hoped and prayed I was wrong.

However painful it was to admit, I had to accept that our affair had probably come to an end and as we waved him off that bright September morning, it was all I could do not to throw myself on the bed and weep.

I was bad-tempered for a week afterwards, my body making it clear on a daily basis that it still needed all the sex it had been enjoying but despite trying, I couldn’t bring myself to make love with my husband.

I told myself that my desire for Colin would return eventually and prayed hard that it would but deep down I knew I was forever spoiled as far as sex with my husband was concerned.

*

“Try this,” Lou suggested as we sat together over a coffee in the sports club. “After all you’ve been through I’m not surprised you’re feeling down.”

It was four weeks after Richie had gone off to University. At first we had exchanged messages several times a day, then only once a day. Now it was a full week since the boy I now had to think of as my former lover had left me any message at all.

After so many weeks being in bed with him every day, adjusting to life without Riche and without sex had been hard. Adjusting to the idea that I might never enjoy my stepson’s body again was at this stage almost too terrible to bear.

I had told Lou most but by no means all of what had happened between Richie and me but my stories seemed unnecessary; my friend appeared to know instinctively what had taken place and how I was feeling.

Lou passed me a box containing yet another herbal tea. Although deeply suspicious about her alternative treatments, I had to admit that the tea she had made me drink every day throughout my affair along with the rest of the detox diet had helped me to feel young and keep up with my teenage lover’s seemingly endless sexual energy.

I looked at the packet.

“What does it do?” I asked.

“It’s a mood enhancer, but like the other infusions, it takes a few weeks to feel the benefit. Don’t be surprised if you feel a bit yucky to start with. If you wake up feeling a bit sick, just take another one and you’ll feel much better.”

I promised to give it a try and slipped the pack into my sports bag.

“Linda, you’re bound to feel mixed up. You found something new about yourself; something wonderful and exciting but before you could adjust, it was taken away. It’s a form of bereavement in a way. You’re going to feel bad for a while.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I agreed. “Life just feels a bit empty right now.”

“Well, that’s what friends are for,” Lou said brightly, taking my hand. “What’s Colin doing tonight?”

“He’s going to one of his Godawful golf club dinners. They last until the small hours. I’m going too.”

“Can you get out of it?” she asked eagerly.

“I could pretend to be ill,” I said. “Actually I don’t feel great today.”

“Then do it. You and I are going out on the town. With you in tow, maybe even an old woman like me can pick up a bit of young male flesh. I don’t mind being called ‘the ugly one’ if I finally get myself laid. Hearing about your summer has made me realise what I’ve been missing!”

The two of us did go to a club that night. We dressed in short skirts, tight tops, high heels and overdone make-up. We met two very nice younger men too, who we danced with and who did try and pick us up. Lou was all for going back with them and having some of the sex we were both missing so badly but my heart wasn’t in it.

I let Lou and her young man go off together without me. Apart from pining for Richie, I couldn’t cheat on my husband with a stranger; that would have been a step too far. I wasn’t ‘that kind of girl’.

As my taxi dropped me off at home, deeply unsatisfied, I wondered what kind of girl I really was now!

*

The brutal answer to that question came a few weeks later.

True to Lou’s predictions, the depression I was feeling in my mind was making my body bad too. I felt nauseous most mornings and had to turn to her newly-prescribed mood-enhancing infusions on an almost daily basis.

To be fair to Lou, they worked to a large degree and I persevered despite the discomfort, keeping up my trips to the gym and letting Lou take me out to cheer me up. Gradually it worked; three months after Richie’s departure, the nausea was reducing, my body no longer craved sex as badly as it had and the future was beginning to look brighter again.

Although we still slept together, Colin and I had still not resumed our sex life but even that no longer seemed the insurmountable hurdle it had once been.

What was beginning to bother me though was the bloated feeling in my tummy that I had become aware of. Lou tried half a dozen of her herbal teas on me but even after a month they hadn’t helped and my clothes were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight.

In fact the feeling was getting worse and my always-irregular periods seemed to have stopped altogether so with a feeling of increasing dread, I abandoned Lou’s alternative voodoo and early one morning went to see a proper doctor.

Half an hour after arriving at the surgery I was sitting on the toilet in the washroom with my knickers around my ankles, my skirt hitched up around my waist and my knees apart.

“Oh my God NOOOO!”

The long, slender white plastic device in my hand bore in unmistakable terms the one word I had dreaded.

‘PREGNANT’

“About four or five months I would say,” the pretty young female doctor was saying as I sat opposite her in the consulting room five minutes later feeling truly sick. “But we’ll do the calculations now. Congratulations Mrs. Ashcroft. When was your last period?”

Her words simply washed over me. Four or five months pregnant? How could that possibly be? My periods had always been very light and unreliable but to miss them for so long without noticing?

I walked back to my car like a zombie, to stunned even to watch the traffic. It wasn’t until an angry driver sounded her horn that I returned to anything like reality and when I sat down in the driver’s seat I was unable to do anything but cry.

Oh God! What was I going to do? I couldn’t go to Colin; I couldn’t go to Richie who was too far away and too young to help. I couldn’t even tell my mother; as a staunch Catholic she already thought I was a fallen woman simply because I was on the pill. How she would react when she learned I was going to have another man’s child could only be guessed at.”

Lou! Of course; she was my best friend. I could tell her anything. Lou would understand. Lou would help me decide what on earth to do.”

I sent her an urgent text message and was relieved to receive an almost immediate reply. She could meet me in our usual coffee shop in an hour’s time.

Thank God for friendship!

*

For the next hour I paced up and down the high street, paranoia turning every casual glance from a stranger into an accusing stare at my growing belly and a disapproving frown when they realised what I had done. Every time I saw my reflection in a shop window, all I could see was the huge bump in front of me that telegraphed my infidelity to the world.

It was all nonsense; all in my head I knew but the sheer terror of my situation denied me logical thought.

Lou was already ensconced in a quiet corner table when I finally entered the coffee shop, bought the biggest black Americano I could find and settled into the seat opposite her.

“Linda you look terrible,” she said anxiously. “What is it; what’s wrong?”

I could barely look my friend in the face as I whispered my awful news. Lou listened carefully with a strange look on her face that I hadn’t been expecting. Ignoring it, I carried on stupidly.

“I’m just so pleased I’ve got you to talk to,” I said breathlessly when I had finished my tale. “If I didn’t have a friend who understood I don’t know what I would do.”

“How far gone are you?” she asked rather unemotionally.

I told her.

“And there’s no chance of a termination?” she asked, again surprisingly coldly.

“It’s too late; far too late,” I replied, beginning to feel a little uneasy.

Lou leaned back in her seat with an odd, self-satisfied expression on her face. I didn’t like the look she was giving me at all. I had needed and expected sympathy, friendship, help and reassurance. What I was seeing was contempt, triumph, something close to gloating.

“So it’s finally happened,” she said eventually. “Congratulations Linda.”

“What?”

“You’ll make a good mother, I’m sure. A single mother but a good one.”

“Don’t say that, Lou.”

“Why not? It’s true. There’s no way you’re going to stay married now, is there? No real man is going to bring up another man’s child – especially not if he finds out he’s been cuckolded by his own son.”

I could only stare into the cold, hard eyes of the woman I had thought my friend as she continued.

“It might be better not to tell Colin that bit. Just say you’ve been having an affair behind his back. It will be hard enough for him to learn he married a whore; I can’t imagine how he would react if he realised that whore had seduced his innocent, teenage son.”

This was appalling! What was happening?

“It wasn’t like that,” I wailed. “You know it wasn’t like that!”

“Do I? Think about it, Linda; how does it sound to you? A mature married woman had an affair with a boy ten years younger than her at a time when he was vulnerable and still at school. The affair went too far and she ended up pregnant. Okay he was eighteen and overage but she was older and much more experienced.

“That sounds much more likely than your version, doesn’t it? Which one do you think everyone will believe?”

Oh my God! She was right! Whatever the truth of the situation, the world would see it exactly as Lou had just said. Certainly my husband would see it that way. In Colin’s eyes, his slut of a wife would have just destroyed the most valuable thing he had; his revived relationship with his only son.

It would be unforgiveable; unthinkable!

I stared into the distance past the woman I had thought was my friend. For the first time I noticed the rather stuffed suitcase tucked behind the partition next to her.

“Are you going away?” I asked dumbly.

“Oh didn’t I tell you,” Lou said smugly. “I’m going to live in Spain for a while,” she told me proudly. “I’ve done what I needed to do here. The sun is calling me and I’m answering that call.”

“You’re emigrating?” I stammered. “Going forever?”

“Not forever,” she told me in that cold, unfriendly voice. “I’ll be needed back here soon but I do have a very nice villa on the south coast and a good many friends there. It’ll be great!”

I was stunned; Lou had never mentioned this before or the fact that she wanted to leave the city, let alone the country. And wasn’t that a strange new twang in her voice; the faint trace of an accent I hadn’t noticed before?

“And you’re leaving today?”

“Yes,” she looked at her watch. “Actually I’m leaving in about ten minutes.”

“But what about...”

“What about you? You’ll miss me? I think you’ll be too busy to worry about me, what with the baby and the divorce and all that.”

A cold shiver ran through my whole body. How could my best friend be so cold about my problem? Lou could clearly see the puzzlement on my face; when she spoke she sounded exasperated.

“Honestly Linda,” she said. “You really aren’t very bright are you?”

The accent was getting stronger now; that trill in the way she pronounced ‘aren’t’ was unmistakably Scottish as she fumbled in her handbag.

“I’ve known about your pregnancy for a long time; longer than you have in fact. I’ve followed your affair step by sordid step from the first ‘accidental’ touchTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.