Lust Call by Ray Gordon

out his fresh spunk. Resting his weight on his hands, he rocked his hips slowly, repeatedly driving his throbbing knob deep into my tight vagina as I squirmed and whimpered beneath him. I could hear the squelching, sucking sounds of sex as he fucked me and sustained my climax. The meeting of naked flesh, the squelching of sex juices . . . I lost myself in my pleasure as my orgasm rocked my young body to the core.
    My vagina filling with creamy sperm and finally overflowing, my orgasm beginning to recede, I drifted slowly back to reality and opened my eyes as Barry made his last thrusts. I’d been so desperate for sex and the relief of orgasm that I’d forgotten about Dave and my marriage. But, now, as Barry withdrew his deflating cock from my sperm-flooded pussy, thoughts of my adulterous act returned. I could hear the phone ringing as Barry climbed to his feet and pulled his shorts up. Was Dave checking up on me? Sitting upright as Barry smiled at me, I was surprised as he slipped into the bushes and disappeared. Didn’t he want to talk? Was that it? A quick fuck, and then nothing?
    Wandering back to my house with sperm streaming down my inner thighs, I began to feel despondent. I was giving my body away to men, opening my legs to men and . . . I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I’d set out to discover the identity of my secret admirer, and had fucked two men in the process. Once a slut always a slut, I reflected, again recalling the two boys on the common. One of the lads had asked me for anal sex, but I’d declined. I should have agreed, I thought, imagining a cock shafting my tight little bottom-hole. One rock-hard cock fucking my cunt and another fucking my arsehole? The phone started ringing again, breaking my reverie. It wasDave, I was sure as I went into the lounge and lifted the receiver.
    â€˜Sarah, where have you been?’ he whined.
    â€˜Shopping,’ I lied. ‘I’ve just got back.’
    â€˜You’re never there when I phone. Anyway, I’m hoping to be back tomorrow.’
    â€˜Oh, er . . . That’s good.’
    â€˜You don’t sound too pleased.’
    â€˜Of course I’m pleased, Dave. Look, I’d better put the shopping away. Ring me this evening.’
    â€˜OK, I will. I should know one way or the other by then. Hopefully, I’ll catch an early flight in the morning.’
    â€˜That’s great. I’ll talk to you later.’
    â€˜OK, bye.’
    I wandered back to the kitchen and gazed out of the window. I was going to have to get my act together. The old apple tree held secrets, I mused. Masturbation, fucking . . . I was going to have to sort myself out before Dave got home. As sperm oozed between my engorged inner lips, I realised that I didn’t have my panties on. Imagining Dave finding my panties on the lawn beneath the apple tree, I went down the garden to find them. I’d have difficulty explaining my shaved pussy, let alone why my panties were down the garden. Not again, I thought, wondering where they were as I looked around. Barry must have taken them. He obviously had a thing about my wet panties.
    I returned to the house and made myself a cup of coffee. I’d make a new start, I thought, deciding to clean the house. Once Dave was home, I’d make a fresh start and forget about Derek and Barry. I took my coffee into the dining room and checked my emails. I was going to have to change my email address, I thought, opening yet another one from Brian.
    Hello sexy Sarah,
    Well, that was a beautiful fuck. I took the liberty of stealing your wet panties. I hope you don’t mind. I also took the liberty of taking a photo. I’ve attached it to this email, I hope you like it,
    Brian.
    Photos? I wondered when Barry had taken them. I’d not seen him with a camera. Opening the attachment, I stared in horror at the shot of Barry fucking me. Who the hell had taken the photo? The picture was perfectly