Sex with a Sting: Six Erotic Fantasies with a Kink in the Tail (18 page)

Yet now, in early
2012, when Liz started to think back over the previous 14 months or so, she
could see very clearly that that evening at Maxine’s was the start of it all.
She suspected that he and Kirsten may have had a brief affair, perhaps slept
together once or twice, but she knew Kirsten was loyal to her husband: any
fling would not have lasted long. Besides, she began to feel that Ethan had
reverted to the character she met at that first dinner party, a man who moved
swiftly from woman to woman.

Evidence began to
pile up. He would get texts late at night. She’d catch him smiling at messages
and then pretending to look serious when she asked what was so funny. She once
heard him on the phone at 3am in the front room. She couldn’t hear what he was
saying because he was whispering, but it was a gentle murmur and she knew that
tone well, even if she couldn’t make out the words.

He was late home
more and more regularly. He never called her at work, when previously he had
made a point of calling once or twice a day. Their sex life petered out week by
week – she was often asleep when he came home anyway. Cliché upon cliché,
she once found what looked like a smudge of foundation on one of his shirt
collars.

The clincher was
the morning she went to the bathroom and found a pill packet with three ‘Pills’
left. They did not belong to Liz – she hadn’t bothered taking them for a
while as they hadn’t had sex in a couple of months. So, once again, he had been
banging another woman in their bed.

A month went by
with no improvement. Ethan became ever more distant, ever more evasive and, if
anything, he became sloppy. Once, he didn’t return home until 8am and tried to
claim he had got drunk, his phone had run out of juice and he’d had to stay at
a mate’s flat. A moment later, his phone shivered as a text message vibrated
through. He looked a little sheepish and said he was going for a shower.

She had been
warned, of course. She knew this would happen. People don’t really change. The
question was what to do about it.

One evening when
he did come home at a reasonable time, she tackled him. “Listen Ethan, we need
to talk, don’t we?”

“Do we?”

“Come on, we are
in serious trouble here. We barely speak, you’re never here…”

“I’m here now.”

“Okay, you’re
rarely here. That’s not my point. I know you’ve been cheating again.”

“I haven’t, I
promise, I’ve just been really busy with work.”

“Ethan, look,
let’s not argue about this, it’s pointless and it won’t get us anywhere. I know
you’ve been cheating and you know you’ve been cheating, so let’s just put our
cards on the table, shall we?”

Ethan paused for a
moment. He had been sitting with his feet up on the sofa while Liz sat in the
armchair, leaning forward, elbows on her knees. He realised he looked far too
relaxed and carefree for this conversation, so he swung his legs round and sat
up straight. “Okay, yes, I haven’t been faithful. I’m sorry, but…” he didn’t
know how to finish the sentence.

“Okay, I’m glad
we’ve got that out the way. So, how long?”

“How long what?”

“How long have you
been screwing around for? When did it start, since the last time, I mean?”
Ethan opened his mouth to reply. “Be honest! There’s no point in us talking
about this unless you’re going to be honest.”

“I dunno, two or
three months?” he offered. Liz shook her head sadly. “Okay, on and off, I
guess… a year?”

Liz put her face
in her hands for a moment. She willed herself to carry on. “Okay. About a year.
That’s what I thought. With one woman? Or more?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me. If
this is one woman you’ve been continually fucking for a year then this all ends
right now. If you’re back to your old ways of when we met, fucking a different
one every other week, then… I suppose… in some ways, it’s different.”

“Well, it’s not
been just one woman.”

“Okay. And how do
you feel about me? Do you still love me? I mean, what’s going on here? You
clearly haven’t just fallen in love with someone else.”

“I do still love
you, Lizzie. I can’t think of anyone else I want to be with. But I just can’t
help myself. I’m not saying I don’t like these other women, of course I like
them, but I don’t feel that much for them… I suppose I enjoy, I dunno, the
game, the chase, it’s like I need it or something.”

Liz stood up and
poured herself a large glass of red wine. Ethan watched her. She held the
bottle up, and he nodded his head, so she poured him a glass, too. “So you love
me, but you’re willing to hurt me with all this shit?”

“I don’t want to
hurt you. I don’t know what it is. When we were first together, it was fine, I
didn’t have these urges, all that stuff went away somehow. But then they came
back every now and again and now they’re here, properly, and I can’t get rid of
them. I want to. I keep telling myself I have to stop, but I can’t. Maybe it’s
a kind of addiction.”

“An addiction.
Classic celebrity excuse for fucking around, that.” Ethan looked at his feet.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about this too. I’ve known for a while there’s been
stuff going on, I’m not an idiot. And here’s how I see it. If you don’t believe
you can ever stop cheating on me, then we might as well sort out a divorce now.
But, if you truly believe you can change and that you want to change, then I
think we should talk about ways of how we can try to make this thing work.”

“I really want to
change. I can’t lie and say I don’t enjoy what I do, but I want to change, I’d
rather just be with you and be happy with that.”

Liz took a deep
breath. “Okay, that’s good. Now, the way I see it is this: you do not build
emotional attachments to these women, correct?”

“Correct.”

“You fuck them a
couple of times for fun and then move on to the next one.”

“Correct,” he
said, quietly.

“So, maybe what we
need to do is to bring the excitement that you get from sleeping around into
our own bedroom. If you are getting what you… need… from me, then maybe we can
eliminate all the creeping around and dishonesty and try and rebuild this
relationship.”

“Sounds great in
theory, but, as far as I’m concerned, our sex life used to be great –
wasn’t it?”

Liz laughed.
“Yeah, it was amazing, I’ll give you that. But ‘was’ is the operative word
here. We don’t really have a sex life at the moment, do we?”

“You know what?
It’s not that I don’t want you. But… it’s the guilt. I don’t feel I should
touch you, because I know what I’ll probably be doing with someone else in the
next 24 hours.”

“That’s something,
I suppose.” She took a large gulp of wine. “So, I’ve been thinking about things
we could do to, well, start things off.”

“Okay.”

“It’s weird,
because this is going to sound like a fucking reward for all you’ve done to me.
And I want you to know that I am hurt by all this. I’ve cried myself to sleep
loads of times when you’ve been late home because I know you’re fucking some
slag behind my back.” Ethan had no response to this. “But, the fact is, when
we’re good together, we’re really good, and I want to work at this marriage. If
you do.”

“I do.”

“And if that means
doing things that perhaps normally I wouldn’t consider, then I’ll do it and
hopefully we can find a way of making this all work.”

“I really hope we
can.”

“So,” she took a
deep breath and another gulp of wine. “This is my first idea. Have you ever
been in a threesome?”

Ethan burst out
laughing. “Well, yeah, once or twice when I got very lucky. Before we met, of
course.”

“Why ‘of course’?”

Ethan stopped
laughing. “Good point.”

“Was it good?”

“It was pretty
amazing, yes, I have to admit.”

“Okay, well how
would you feel about expanding our horizons a bit? Maybe start with a threesome
and see what happens from there? See how it works out?”

“Well, I’m not
going to say no! Are you sure?”

“Well, I’ve never
been with a girl before, but I have thought about it, you know. Do you think it
could help us? Something like this?”

“I guess so. It’s
a weird way to go about it, but it could do. If you’re happy with it.”

“I wouldn’t say
happy, exactly. But it intrigues me.”

“Did you have
anyone in mind?”

“Well, I’ve
thought about that, too. I thought at first maybe you would know someone, a
past conquest or something. But then I thought I wouldn’t like that. Inviting a
woman into my bed who had fucked my husband behind my back – that doesn’t
do it for me. Then I thought about hiring an escort, to make sure we get
someone with no inhibitions, who would know what she was doing.”

“Nice idea, I like
that.”

“But… hmm… I
dunno. I’m not ready for that either. A sex worker, I mean. It’s prejudiced, I
know, but I’m not up for that.”

“Okay, so what’s
the solution?”

“Well, then I
started thinking about my friends. And the one friend who I have, on occasions,
thought about in that sort of way, because she is just sex on legs, is Maxine.”
Ethan’s eyebrows raised, his lips curled into a lascivious, involuntary smile.
“Yeah, I thought you might like that idea,” she said. “I’ll talk to her.”

A couple of days
later, Ethan had just finished working with a client. He turned his phone back
on and a text came through: “It’s on. Saturday. 9pm.” He smiled. He couldn’t
quite believe his luck.

Saturday night.
Ethan sat with his back up against the wrought iron bars of his vintage bed so
that he could get a perfect view through the bedroom door. He was wearing a
white linen shirt and smart jeans, no shoes or socks. He, Liz and Maxine had
had a couple of drinks to loosen themselves up. He’d sat between them and they
had allowed him to place his hands on their thighs. Now he was waiting. He
could hear the two women murmuring, occasionally giggling, in the other room.

The anticipation
was almost more than he could bear. He had known Maxine for years. He had
always fancied her – virtually everyone did – she was just
naturally sexy. The way she walked, the way she talked, the way she ate, the
way she drank. Everything she did was sexy. It was effortless. Every now and
again he would try it on with her, but she never responded. He had never got
close. Generally speaking, with a few notable exceptions, he had usually been
able to seduce pretty much anyone he wanted since he was a teenager. Maxine was
one of the very few he had never made it with, although she had frequently
appeared in his fantasies, and once he had even slept with a woman simply
because she had a passing resemblance to her.

So, to get her and
Liz, who, despite their recent dry spell in the bedroom, he still found
incredibly attractive and desirable, together, at the same time, pleasing him,
was almost beyond his dreams. Almost. Not quite. He had dreamt about it several
times even before Liz had mentioned it the previous week as a possibility.
Since then, he had barely been able to get the images out of his head. Liz and
Max kissing; Liz and Max taking each other’s clothes off; Liz and Max taking
his clothes off; Liz and Max letting their tongues and lips explore his rock
hard cock at the same time; Liz and Max kissing while he fucked Liz; Liz and
Max kissing while he fucked Max; Liz going down on Max; Max going down on Liz…
all this went through his mind and more as he waited, impatiently, for the
girls to emerge. He tried to stop himself thinking of all the scenarios. He just
wanted it to unfold, to be surprised by it all… but, still, imagine Liz riding
his cock while Maxine lowered her pussy to his lips... He was already rigid
with desire.

There were still
murmurings and giggling going on in the other room, but he resisted both the
urge to spy on them and the urge to call out and ask what they were doing.
Eventually, however, after what seemed like hours but in truth was only about
20 minutes or so, the two women strolled into the room, arm in arm.

They looked
incredible. Liz was wearing virginal white. The bra was made of some kind of
sheer material so that he could make out her dark nipples underneath. Next,
around her torso was a beautifully sexy white suspender – sheer material
again, with a vintage, detailed lace section underneath. Her stockings were
pure white at the top of the thigh, descending into a translucent gloss. She
wore shiny white high heels. Finally, the tiny brief, barely clinging to her
hips, was made of the same delicate, transparent material as the bra. Ethan
breathed deeply as he noticed her fresh Brazilian style of pubic hair
underneath.

Maxine, on the
other hand, had gone in the opposite direction. She was in all black, in
contrast to her porcelain skin. He wasn’t quite sure how her strapless black
bra was staying on, but he loved it all the same. It looked like one shake of
her boobs would cause it to drop off. Like Liz (had they been shopping
together?) she wore a suspender across her torso, only this was a little
different. Made of silk satin, it occasionally sparkled in the candlelight of
the bedroom and was intricately designed, almost like a web, around her
abdomen. The stockings were similar to Liz’s, only black, and, like Liz, she
wore dominating high heels, but, again, in black. Her panties matched the
suspender – a latticework of silk from hip to hip.