Part two: Is our filthy foursome set to break apart when a new serpent enters the garden?
So far: Builder Max and his lusty other half, Lyla, were enjoying a cosy four-way affair with neighbours Blake and Claire. But while Blake was also making the most of the fun, Claire seemed somewhat distracted. By Dan, the 18-year-old gardener across the road…
In the dark street Claire closed in on Dan as he tossed green woven sacks of weeds and hedge clippings onto the neglected pavement. He didn’t seem to notice her, which meant she had enough time to unbutton her black raincoat so her short-skirted business suit was displaying her curves nicely against the coat’s grey lining. She leant up against the fence outside Dan’s parents’ house.
Claire never used to be so confident about her allure. She used to see herself as frumpy, lumpy, dull and pasty. It wasn’t until she landed her gorgeous next door neighbour Max – and landed right in his bed – that she started to see things differently. Max compared her pale skin to marshmallows, to whipped cream and cotton wool. He wallowed in her big body – not just her hips and tits, but her belly and thighs, too. He even liked the creases of fat on her back and almost choked with laughter at the idea they could be anything other than desirable. So now Claire was posing for Dan, baiting her trap with herself.
“Busy day?” she asked.
Dan jumped. “Fuck!” He spun around to look at Claire, flushed, his heart already clearly banging in his chest. “God, sorry. Claire, isn’t it? I didn’t know you were standing there.”
“I didn’t mean to surprise you. I just wanted to watch you a little while. I’ve seen you a few times, through my window, but nothing beats up close and personal, wouldn’t you agree?”
A fast-moving cloud of confusion drifted over Dan’s face. And then a very different expression took its place. An expression that only really sits well on the face of a cocky, good-looking-and-doesn’t-he-know-it 18-year-old.
“You know,” said Dan, “I absolutely agree.” He jerked his head as if steeling himself for one final push. And then with a deep breath, he charged right over the top, lunging forward and planting her a wet kiss on the lips. Standing back, he smiled at her. “You know, if you like it up close and personal, Claire, there’s something in my van I think you’d like to see.”
In less than a minute, Dan had Claire pressed hard up against the inside of his tiny van. There wasn’t really enough room to stand up and, as Dan kissed her, he expertly guided Claire down onto the leaf strewn floor. Dan buried his head in Claire’s neck, nibbling and licking slightly clumsily and Claire stretched out and inhaled. The inside of the van smelt like petrol and mulch. It was so damn sexy.
In another moment, Dan knelt up and pulled his black T-shirt off over his head. His chest was tanned golden and incredibly toned – just the way Claire had anticipated. His light dusting of brownish hairs was perfectly positioned, outlining and accentuating his easy physique. Oh, he was almost too perfect. The very image of golden youth. Claire sighed as Dan lowered himself back down onto her body and began opening her blouse, kissing his way down her body as he did so. She felt her c**t pulse, eager and excited as he reached the waistband of her skirt. He slipped his hands down over it and grabbed the hem. As Claire lifted herself a little off the floor he pushed her skirt up to her waist.
“Fucking hell,” he said, his excited breathing making him stutter. And then he took hold of her knickers and her tights together and yanked them down.
“Hang on,” Claire muttered as he went to sink his face between her legs. And she hauled herself up a little. Leaning forwards awkwardly she yanked her knickers and tights further down so she could get one foot completely free of the tangle. “It’s gets annoying,” she said as she lay back down, “if you don’t take them right off.”
“Oh sure, sure,” said Dan, but he wasn’t really listening. And then Claire felt a sudden tongue on her pussy.
Dan was so contradictory. So beautiful and slightly arrogant with it. Yet also a little inept and unsure. But his tongue seemed to know what it was doing. Claire let herself melt into his ministrations. Even though she was faintly disappointed not to be getting penetration – her favourite – she let Dan flick his tongue around her clit until her hands were scrabbling on the metal floor and she was bucking up, screaming, locking her knees around his head.
Secrets To Hide
Three days later, Blake Oberlander, Claire’s husband, Lyla and Max’s lover, got up early from the quadruple-sized bed, and crept into the bathroom in his own side of the house. No matter how avant-garde his sex life might have become, Blake was – at heart – a conscientious man with a serious job.
He was in the bank less than forty-five minutes later. It was before eight, but he liked to be the first in. He could set up his day before it all got busy and he found himself unable to resist taking refuge in fantasies about Lyla’s tight hot mouth closing around Max’s ever-ready cock while he – Blake – watched; slowly pushing into Lyla from behind.
He began to work through the pile of post on his desk, ripping open envelopes and mostly tossing the contents aside. This was yesterday’s mail that he hadn’t dealt with – stuff he knew from a glance wasn’t urgent.
The bottom envelope in the pile was hand addressed. Blake paused. He hardly ever got hand written mail at the bank. He was surprised he hadn’t opened this one straight away, out of sheer curiosity. He must have been rushed off his feet.
The envelope was small, nondescript, white. He ripped it open with his letter opener and a rectangle of folded paper fell onto his desk. Thin enough that he could see the letter too was handwritten. The same black ink as on the front of the envelope. The same loping scrawl.
When he opened up the piece of paper, when he read what it said, Blake felt his heart freeze.
I know what you’re doing. It’s disgusting. Orgies every night. Even your house altered to make it easier for you. Fucking and sucking with your neighbours. Gay, bi, lesbian, three of you, four of you. Every combination. I wonder what the papers would say about a bank manager carrying on like such a slut?
The letter continued, the spider writing getting wilder as the author seemed to get more irate. Blake was expecting the demand for money before he reached it. The time and place. The scoffing sign-off that a bank manager would easily be able to afford the fifty grand demanded. Blake felt sick.
Too Much, Too Soon
Claire lay on Dan’s narrow single bed. It was the first time she’d been in his bedroom. Only allowable this time as his parents had gone out to the theatre. Claire was happy with that. Dan’s parents weren’t much older than her and Blake. And she didn’t much fancy bumping into them in the hallway. Dan might be 18 and have his own business, but there was still something about him that made her feel like a dirty old woman.
Dan was on top of her, kissing his way down her body again, which seemed to be his trademark and only move. As he started to remove her underwear, Claire sat up, “So, Dan, it’s been a week. Are we going to fuck, already?”
Dan looked shocked. “Fuck? What, like now?”
Claire reached out and grabbed his belt, yanking him close. “Sure,” she said, then pressed her mouth to his for a kiss.
Dan pulled away. “I thought we could, kind of, take it slow. I really like you, Claire. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“I like you too. That’s why I want you to fuck me.”
Dan held her gaze and his expression changed. He flipped from unsure to cocksure. It was quite a transformation. “Greedy slut,” he said.
“Oh come on, Dan. I want your cock.”
Dan stretched his arms up lazily and then brought them down, twining his fingers together behind his head. “Really?” He thrust his crotch into Claire’s face as he spoke. “Get it out then.”
Claire quirked an eager smile. Then she reached out and began to liberate Dan’s cock. Oh, and it was satin smooth and so very hard. His erection was totally – almost preternaturally – vertical.
After they’d both stared at it for breathless moments, Dan said, “Suck my fucking dick then, bitch.”
And Claire, all her cravings to be fucked temporarily forgotten, dived onto the delicious treat. His pheromones were ferocious. His hands were in Claire’s hair. She ignored the way he sounded as if he was acting out something he’d seen in porn. It was still hot as fuck and she got a little thrill from the idea of this youth acting like a man just to get her wet.
And Claire had one last trick up her sleeve to get what she really wanted. After she had used every move she knew on Dan’s cock, after she had coaxed him almost right to his edge, she pulled back. She grinned at him and lay back down on the bed, spreading her legs and pulling her knickers aside. She knew how this must look. How hard it would be for him to resist, even if he was a…
Dan swallowed, “I’m a virgin,” he said quietly. His macho man façade dissolving as he stared at Claire’s wet open pussy.
“Not for much longer.”
As the words left her mouth Claire realised she might have overegged it. Almost simultaneously Dan cried out, “Oh, no.” And Claire watched in horror as Dan’s cock convulsed suddenly and his come splattered her and the duvet with disappointment.
Green-eyed Monster
Everything was annoying Lyla about her job, from the fact she was having to work late doing a stock take to the very fact that she had to work in this horrible cut-price clothing shop. Lyla loved clothes. But the cheap fabric shapes they sold didn’t qualify as such as far as she was concerned. Made as cheaply as possible in sweat shops. Seams so thin the piece would barely hold together for a season. But that was the point. Not built to last. Disposable fashion. Get ‘em back in next month to buy more. High turnover. High disappointment. Once Lyla had cherished dreams of her own boutique. Exclusive well made pieces. Now she knew people just didn’t want that kind of thing any more.
As she worked her way through to the back of the stock room, tapping figures into an iPad, her mind drifted from work-life annoyances to home-life ones. Claire was clearly up to something. She might think no one had noticed but Lyla had. Just in the last week there’d been three evenings when no one knew where Claire was. Not Blake, not Max and certainly not Lyla. With this weird four-way set up they had now, it seemed so much easier for someone not to be missed. For them to slip down the gaps in the relationship, just like the time Claire had slipped down the gap between their two double beds before they had found a more solid way of fixing them together.
But Claire wasn’t the main problem Lyla had with this unconventional relationship. Her real problem was far more basic and far more debilitating. Jealousy. She’d tried not to admit it. Even to herself. She’d tried to pretend she was cool with it all. So modern. So free. But she wasn’t
Her partner Max had never been a faithful man. But she wasn’t at all jealous of anything he got up to. He was a simple man. A hunk, a hard-bodied lunk. She knew he’d always come back to her. He fell for temptation every time – but deep in his heart he belonged to her. Both of them knew it. No, it wasn’t Max that aroused her jealousy. It was Blake. As she got closer to the softer, slighter, more mysterious man in her life she began to crave his exclusive attention like nothing she’d ever known. She was jealous of the cosy intimacy he shared with Claire. Once Blake had seemed tired and Lyla had made a crack about him having been up all night shagging. And Blake had shrugged and said no, that he and Claire had been up late talking. And that had cut Lyla to the bone.
Thinking about it now she realised she was grinding her fingernails into her palm. But how else could she have this set up? The sensitive delicate Blake with his long dexterous fingers and his perfect, perfect kissing. And Max too, who was almost brutal in comparison, with his amazing body, and his equally amazing cock and his ability to hit her G-spot over and over when they fucked. In fact, with Claire’s mysterious absences she had had both men to herself three times this week. She was still slightly sore from their fingers and dicks and tongues in her mouth, her c**t, her arse. In every combination.
Maybe she should squash her jealous feelings down. Try and overcome them. Surely this bliss was worth it?
Boy, Oh Boy!
Max and Blake were in the bedroom, both drinking lager waiting for their evening to start.
“Aw, hell,” said Max. “I just remembered, Lyla’s doing some work thing. Said she might not be back until eleven.”
“Oh,” Blake felt his disappointment like a little sprinkle of stones down in his guts.
“Where’s your missus?”
“I’m not quite sure.”
“Oh fuck. That’s not right. Those women are neglecting us, you know.”
Blake gave a weak smile and nod in response. Then he said, “Well, maybe that’s a good thing. We could talk.” He thought about the blackmail note he’d received. Now stuffed deep in the inside pocket of his laptop bag.’
“Talk!” Max hooted. “Hell, that wasn’t what I was thinking of doing at all.” Max dived across the bed and pinned Blake easily. Blake was considerably taller than Max, but Max was built for strength and his long hours on building sites kept him that way. In seconds Max was astride Blake’s chest, pinning his wrists and ducking down into a vicious, owning kiss. Blake struggled, trying to get away, if only to catch his breath, but it was useless. There was nothing much Blake could do except open his mouth wide and let Max’s tongue take control.
“God,” said Max, finally pulling back, “I so want to fuck you, man. Girls are pretty, but I so love fucking guys. Guys know what guys want, you know.” Before Blake could answer Max grabbed hold of Blakes erect cock through his suit trousers. He worked his tight fist expertly up and down, making Blake moan in moments.
“See,” Max said, half sneering. “Turn over.”
Even as he flipped onto his stomach Blake was saying, “I don’t know if I…”
But Max cut him off with a, “Shut up”, as he wrenched down Blake’s trousers and underwear and pushed his tongue fast and hard into Blake’s arsehole.
Blake yelled first in shock and surprise then reached down behind his back to push Max away. In response, Max grabbed both Blake’s arms in his own and twisted them up into the small of Blake’s back. Pinning them hopelessly. Then he returned to his rimming.
There was nothing Blake could do now except take it. It was hopelessly ticklish at first, but that sensation soon melted away to be replaced with breathless pleasure. Blake felt himself opening and relaxing so much that when Max took him with one finger, then two, then slid up and entered him with his cock, Blake could do nothing more than moan. He was incoherent as Max whispered in his ear, ‘See, I knew you’d love this,’ reaching under Blake’s body, drawing him up so Max’s hand could close around Blake’s cock.
Blake was on the edge in moments. Overcome with sensation. As he felt a tremendous orgasm begin to rush towards him he cried out, “Oh God, Max. It’s you. It’s you I really want.”
Read Part Three of Semi Detached.
