One

Jodie sat alone on the night bus, downstairs, near the back, her head leaning on the damp glass. She saw her reflection in the steamy window and didn’t much like what she saw. Gone forever, the young, ambitious, vibrant, beautiful, outgoing twenty-something she had been a lifetime ago. Now, forty-something, a very different woman looked back at her. She saw tears running slowly down her lined cheeks.

Now, at ten past four in the morning,  she sat on the brightly lit bus, the outside world invisible behind the grimy glass. The dirt gave her reflection the appearance of a sandy-skinned alien, hair straggling on either side of a gaunt face, sadness etched into every pore, misery and despair plain to see in her hooded eyes. Her shift had ended, as had four thousand before doing the only thing she could reasonably be called qualified to do—driving  a bus. She chose the seven to four because it got her out of her Lewisham flat during the evenings, which she hated. She also got a subsidised hot dinner at ten o’clock every night she worked.

Life had not been easy for Jodie since her divorce. It hadn’t been easy for the three or more years before her divorce, come to that. Russell, the premier Harley Street gynaecologist husband she had married in a flurry of excitement, silk, lace and blue garters, had come crashing down after eight years when she caught him with his face buried in his secretary’s snatch one rainy afternoon in September.

Jodie had been in town to see her daughter, Samantha, perform her Grade Two piano recital at the Royal College of Music. Russell had agreed to be there, closing the clinic for a couple of hours. He wasn’t there. Jodie wasn’t so surprised. Russell had never been one to get involved in bringing up their daughter. After Sam had been given her result, a pass, Jodie suggested they surprise Daddy and show him the certificate. They didn’t have far to go, just across the park and east for a couple of miles. Ten minutes in a taxi and into the imposing façade they breezed, excited, expectant, happy. Miranda’s desk sat vacant, the chair pushed back and facing sideways.

Jodie didn’t pause, assuming her to be in the toilet or fetching some kind of refreshment from the kitchen. She pushed the door to Russell’s office wide open and stopped. Miranda lay back, totally naked spread-eagled in the examination chair, long, lean legs akimbo in the stirrups, Russell, also naked, sat on the examination stool, his head buried between her thighs, hearing nothing with her silken muscles squashed up against his rather over-large ears. His right hand stroked his erection. His left forefinger probed deep into her dark anus.

Miranda saw nothing, her head arched back, eyes closed or maybe fixed on a light fitting above her head. Her left hand gripped Russell’s head, her fingers buried in his thick wavy hair. Her right hand massaged her voluminous right breast, none too gently, noted Jodie. Soft mewling sounds came from the chair, interspersed with grunts as Russell’s head pushed into her. Jodie and Samantha stood there looking at the tableau for several seconds. Jodie absorbed the scene, burning every pixel of the image into her brain. Samantha looked at her father, then her mother, then at the floor and said nothing. Her certificate slipped from her fingers and slid across the floor to stop close to the examination stool. She turned and walked out of the room, waiting for her mother. Jodie waited another few seconds. She’d seen enough.

In the taxi back to Waterloo, Samantha said nothing. Jodie had nothing to say. Her life had been perfect until five minutes ago. Home in Sunningdale saw them living in some luxury. Five bedrooms, each with an en-suite bath, three reception rooms, an indoor swimming pool, a sauna and a well-equipped gym meant they had every comfort such a house could provide. Jodie attended yoga, pilates, tennis lessons and they played golf at Wentworth once a week if the weather was nice. A gardener attended to the grounds, around three acres, two days a week. Samantha attended an expensive school for young ladies while Russell worked five days a week with private consultations to the rich and famous and raked in what would be considered an exorbitant amount of money for simply being a fairly ordinary doctor and not quite first-rate surgeon.

Jodie sat on the train and cried on the way to Sunningdale station. She drove home, crying the whole way, went to her ground-floor bedroom and lay on the bed and cried for an hour. For their eighth wedding anniversary three days ago they had been to an expensive restaurant, eaten a fashionable if not entirely satisfactory meal and rounded off the evening with Champagne and a little flirting. No sex, Russell had explained that the pressures of work had decreased his libido. Now she knew why he had no appetite for sex with her. He was expending all his lust on the voluptuous and delightful Miranda, her of the abundant, long blonde hair and over-abundant breasts.

Like most marriages Jodie knew of, sex had been an almost daily affair for about a year until it gradually became three times a week, then once, then once a fortnight. By the time they had been married five years, Jodie was lucky to see an erection once a month. She hadn’t seen one for several months prior to that day in the clinic; she saw one then.

Her libido hadn’t diminished. Indeed, the less sex she had, the more she wanted it. She resorted, as almost all her friends had, to expensive toys or lovers, or both. Sylvia, her best friend and fairly close neighbour, resorted to a hook-up site on the internet where no questions asked sex could be arranged discreetly. Sylvia had an arrangement whereby she borrowed a friend’s flat in Egham and shagged a different man about three days a week. She told Jodie that forty was the new thirty!

Another of her friends had organised an online website where she got paid to have orgasms in front of a low-resolution web camera. She used a chatroom that accepted money via PayPal, a relative newcomer to the Internet back then. It coupled with a message system that told her what they wanted her to do for them. She obliged with several toys and had six or seven orgasms every morning for her US customers. Jodie made do with a top of the range vibrator with sixteen different settings, only one of which she used, and a rather elegant black dildo based, apparently, on a real-life cock of some American porn actor.

Russell had arrived home that night with the Piano Test Certificate in his briefcase. He handed it to Samantha as he came in the kitchen. He opened a beer and went to the rear patio, sitting in the sun as it set and drank without saying a word. Jodie had rehearsed a lecture, but when she walked outside she saw a defiant, stubborn, granite-faced lump of obdurate, immovable humanity. She knew then it was all over. She said nothing and went back inside to finish burning his grilled chop. She flung the charred lump of meat on the plate with the overcooked vegetables and went with Samantha to her room to read her a story. A week later, after Sam was in bed, they talked about it for the first time.

“Do you want a divorce, you shit?”

“No. I have my reputation to think of. It won’t look good if we get divorced.”

“Your reputation as a philandering fucking fucker, you mean?”

“Don’t talk like a whore, Jodie. It does nothing for you.”

“You know how whores talk then, or are you basing that on your whore, Miranda, with the perfectly gross fucking tits?”

It was then he hit her, open-handed across her left cheek. Jodie had been half expecting it and hit him back. The difference was that she used a fist and struck him a jarring roundhouse blow to the point of his chin, snapping his head to the right. He stumbled, took a step backwards and collapsed in a heap on the kitchen floor. Jodie kicked him, hard, in the ribs, twice and stormed out of the house.

Having no particular destination in mind, she drove for an hour, the streets suddenly unfamiliar as she saw nothing, barely avoiding several accidents as her eyes watered and her mind flashed back and forth with all the possibilities, the options, the choices that she might make. None of them made her feel any better, none of them hit her as a, ‘right, that’s what I’ll do,’ moment. She drove back to the house in the dark and parked outside the triple garage. Aimlessly walking around the side of the house, she stood at the door to the swimming pool at the rear of the house. Sliding the door open, she stripped off her clothes. She plunged into the water and swam length after length, burning every spare calorie of energy until she could do no more, exhausted, depleted, wasted, empty.

She slept in one of the unused bedrooms, not bothering to make the bed, just using a duvet to sleep under and a spare pillow from Samantha’s bed. In the morning she walked into the kitchen to see Russell eating his cereal at the breakfast bar. He wore a plastic and foam neck-brace. He stood up and raised his T-shirt, showing her the two purple bruises on his lower ribs.

“The police want to talk to you.”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I called them to meet me at the hospital. They took pictures and spoke to the doctor. You will be charged with assault.”

“Fuck off, Russell. Just fuck off and take that stupid fucking thing off, you look utterly stupid wearing that, you fucking fake.”

“The X-ray showed a torn muscle in my neck and a swollen intervertbral meniscus. You are in the shit, Jodie. You are a violent and vicious woman and have been for years. I never reported you before because it never reached the level of violence you displayed yesterday evening.”

“What the fuck are talking about, Russell? I never hit you in your fucking miserable cheating life before yesterday, you lying shit!”

“The evidence says otherwise. Who will the police listen to? Me, a respected Harley Street surgeon with an impeccable reputation, or you, the evidently violent wife who has been beating her husband for several years? You can report voluntarily or they will be here to arrest you at midday, your choice.”

“You are kidding me, aren’t you? Surely, you didn’t really call the police, did you? Did You, really? Russell, tell me you’re kidding me, please. Are you serious?”

It went downhill from there. Of course, he was serious. He had gone to the hospital exactly as he described and called the police to report the assault by his wife, last in a long series of assaults, which he’d never reported, because, you know, ego, shame, pride, protecting her, all of that. She’s only a slip of a woman, but she was quick and hit him often. This was the last straw, he told them.

Four months later, when the case came before the Magistrate’s Court, she was given a six-month custodial sentence followed by one year suspended for assault causing actual bodily harm. Her life as a respectable wife and mother came to an end that February afternoon seventeen years ago. The following week, he filed for divorce on the grounds of cruelty. His expensive brief wowed the Family Court and she was told she was lucky to get a small allowance, no visitation rights to the vulnerable eight year old daughter and she could take her personal belongings and nothing else. She had stuffed a single holdall with what she needed, including her toys and left in a taxi for her mother’s in Staines.

Two

“G’night, Jodie,” said the driver as Jodie alighted from the bus.

“Night, Maeve, see you Thursday.”

Jodie stepped off the bus, turned her collar up against the cold wind and headed for home. Her income from Transport for London and her meagre allowance from Russell afforded her a nice flat in a six-story block near Greenwich Park. She faced the main road, so it was noisy, but she had grown used to that. It was a polyglot community, the twenty-four flats, with tenants from eleven different countries and skin shades from hers, very white, to the darkest black from Eritrea with lots of brown shades in between. At twenty past four, she let herself in, kicked off her shoes and put the kettle on to make tea.

She sat in front of the blank TV screen and sipped at the Chamomile tea. Her mind pondered her situation, as it did every day after her shift ended and she sat in the same place every day at this time.

“What the fuck am I going to do? Samantha is twenty-five and I haven’t seen her in seventeen years. Russell could be dead for all I know. I still get his shitty allowance so I suppose he might be alive. I wonder what happened to Miranda? Seventeen years driving a bus and I am nowhere near to getting where I want to go. The problem is that I have no real idea where I want to be, apart from the fact that I don’t want to be here. I have to do something. I’ll do something when I get up. I really will. Right now, it’s bedtime. I feel shattered, just like I do six days out of nine.”

Jodie had the same conversation with herself almost every working day at this time, her quiet time after work. She’d had the conversation about four thousand times and never done anything about it. Inertia had set in soon after she moved into the flat a few weeks after her mother asked her to leave. She had taken to spending her days doing nothing. She watched daytime TV all day and began drinking wine at lunchtime. She eventually signed on for benefits and job-seekers allowances. She had several job offers but declined them all. They cut her allowance, and she finally saw sense and took the next job they offered her, driving a bus. She took the five-week course and surprised herself and her mother by passing the test with flying colours.

In the beginning, her routes varied but the shift length stayed about the same, eight hours with a forty-minute lunch or dinner break, depending on the shift. The night bus beckoned, getting her out during the worst time of day, bedtime for Samantha. From her tenth week of working until now, the eight until four had become her regular shift, driving exclusively on Route N24. She knew the route between Hampstead Heath and Pimlico like the back of her hand. She had got to know many of the regular users over the previous years.

In all the years she had driven this route, she had used her can of Mace just once. A Saturday night after Spurs were beaten at home. Drunken fans wanted to finally get home at two thirty in the morning. Five of them got on, only the first two had Oyster Cards and paid on the card reader machine. The other three simply went to the back of the bus and sat down. Company policy was to not cause a fuss, especially on the night buses, with fare dodgers.

Jodie, who would normally ignore the rowdy youths, men in their twenties, she decided, had enough of a bad day and decided it was time to do something. She walked to the back of the bus, ignoring the two who paid, and she stood in front of the men until they all stopped laughing and paid attention to the bus driver standing quietly in front of them. She sprayed each of them in turn, quickly, a short burst before they had time to react, then a long, two second burst straight into their open mouths, into their eyes, into their noses. One of the men who paid moved as if to stop her until she raised the can to his face.

“Get them off my bus before I call the police.”

Three

Today,  Sunday, and she had three days off. Six hours sleep would see her getting up for her brunch at eleven. She washed her shoulder-length hair, dried it and tied it in a ponytail. Every day her first meal of the day was the same, two slices of wholemeal toast, two boiled eggs, two slices of Cheddar cheese and a cup of English Breakfast tea. Two o’clock it was two fingers of Kit-Kat and an instant Nescafe. When the weather looked fine she would spend a couple of hours in the park, watching the children playing or she visited the cinema when the weather was shitty, like today.

Jodie didn’t much care what she watched. She often chose the film with the longest running time, as she did today. The latest Batman instalment ran to three hours, perfect. She didn’t bother with refreshments, just sat about five rows from the back in the centre and stared at the adverts and trailers. The cinema looked to be about twenty percent full, Jodie guessed. She had free seats on either side of her. A young couple sat to her right, three seats away. To her left, an elderly man sat alone, two seats away.

About twenty minutes into the film, which was mostly dark scenes, Jodie noticed during one daylight scene that the young man to her right had his penis out and his girlfriend, to his right, was stroking him with her right hand. He had his right arm across her shoulders. Girl made slow and deliberate strokes, not in any hurry it seemed. Jodie was fascinated. His penis was not overly large but his girlfriend made her hand splay open on the down-strokes, displaying the full length of his circumcised cock to the flickering light from the screen seventy feet away. This continued for about twenty minutes, slow, deliberate, gentle stroking, evidently something they practised regularly. Jodie felt herself reacting to the scene, something she had not felt for some time, many weeks, no, several months.

She heard the young man say something, a warning. His girlfriend dipped her head into his lap and took the head of his cock in her mouth. Her head moved up and down a few times, and the man went rigid in his seat, evidently ejaculating into her mouth. She pumped a few times, sucked and stopped moving her head. She remained there for about a minute, slowing her pumping until she stopped. She sat up and wiped her mouth with the back of her left hand. He tucked his penis into his trousers and zipped up. She leaned forward and smiled at Jodie, waving the fingers of her right hand in her direction. He turned to look at her and smiled too. They both had Indian features, well, Asian at least. Girl looked beautiful with long black hair tied back behind her ears. Guy had a lean, handsome face with short, dark curly hair.

A jolt of embarrassment shot through her as they both resumed watching the film. It occurred to her within an instant that she had no need to feel that way since they obviously knew she was watching, yet they carried on until he had his orgasm. They had done nothing to hide it, indeed, they had turned it into an exhibition for her benefit. Her pussy tingled, knowing that just six feet away, a man had an orgasm and his girlfriend had taken it in her mouth and presumably swallowed it.

Jodie glanced at the man to her left. He attended the film with a slightly open mouth. An hour later, Girl began massaging Guy’s cock outside his jeans. This went on for about ten minutes until the young man moved next to Jodie, his girlfriend moved next to him. He didn’t wait. He unbuttoned his jeans, pulled down his zip and pulled out his not so flaccid penis. Girl grasped it and began her rhythmic pumping once again. In about two minutes, it had resumed its earlier level of hardness, an erection to be proud of. Jodie couldn’t avoid watching the spectacle not two feet from her face. She kept her hands in her lap, her fingers intertwined, locked, safe.

Girl repeated her movements for about ten slow, long minutes. Jodie had the idea that she might have to come and see the film again later in the week since she had missed a great deal of it. Girl, stopped for a few seconds, Jodie looked down at her eyes, she smiled and motioned for Jodie to join in mouthing the words, ‘you do it’. Jodie shook her head, ‘no’ she said silently. Girl resumed. A few minutes passed until Guy moved his left hand across the armrest and rested his hand on the back of Jodie’s right hand. The shock jolted her as his warm touch tingled on her skin. He gently squeezed the back of her hand and pulled, very slightly, almost imperceptibly, but she felt the tug, knew what he wanted.

Jodie’s thoughts tumbled, confused, disjointed, jetting off in several different directions, adding to her loss of equilibrium.

What is happening here? Who are these people? What are they doing masturbating in the cinema? Didn’t they have a home to go to? Why me? I’m nearly fifty, they look about twenty. How does she get her jollies? Why is it just him?

His hand gripped her more firmly, once again he pulled, this time a definite tug on her hand. Jodie relaxed, unable to resist, for some inexplicable reason, it seemed like the right thing to do. So little had happened in her miserable life since her divorce. Her sex -life had been sporadic, unsatisfactory, downright catastrophic on occasions and non-existent the remainder of the time. She unlaced her fingers and let him take her hand across the divide. Girl held his penis near the base, ensuring the top few inches remained exposed, waiting for her hand to encompass it.

Jodie saw her hand grasp at the crown and the top inch or so. Heat filled her hand. She did what came naturally and pumped. Jodie’s gaze remained locked on the head of his cock as it appeared, rampant, rigid, hot, with each downwards movement of her hand. As she raised her hand the crown became enveloped in her encircling thumb. Her forefinger didn’t reach her thumb, such was the girth of this beautiful cock in her hand. A minute later, Girl took her hand away and let Jodie continue on her own. Jodie kept the same pace as she had seen Girl employ earlier, slow, methodical, even paced. Jodie recalled how Girl had stroked right down to the base of his cock, pulling down on it as she reached the base. She copied her movements. Guy grunted under his breath. Jodie had evidently found the correct method to please him.

Guy and Girl exchanged looks, both smiled at Jodie as she continued to wank the stranger next to her. Girl opened her mouth and pointed at the head of Guy’s erection. She made a swallowing motion, pointed to Jodie and almost laughed. That would be a step too far, Jodie decided. She shook her head. Girl smiled as she dipped her head into Guy’s lap. She positioned her open mouth close to his straining cock, waiting, expectant. Guy made the same noise he had about an hour ago, a low guttural moan. Jodie kept pumping, slowing her pace as Girl raised her head and engulfed the head of his cock in her mouth. Jodie kept looking at Guy’s face as he grimaced and evidently came again. He shook and stiffened as he shot his cum into Girl’s mouth. Jodie slowed, slower, then stopped while Girl kept sucking, seemingly intent on draining every drop from Guy’s cock. As she lifted her head from Guy’s lap, she opened her mouth and let a drop of his semen splash onto the base of Jodie’s thumb. Jodie looked at it, the liquid warm, pooled between her curled thumb and the crown of his cock. Girl sat up, looked at Jodie and swallowed.

Jodie acted on a compulsion. Without thinking, she closed her thumb over the top of his deflating cock, raised her hand to her mouth and licked the cum from her hand. It tasted of nothing, barely half a teaspoon in quantity. She swallowed, amazed at her own actions. She felt elated, buzzing, no sense of shame or disgust, only a warm fuzzy feeling and the rekindling of the tingle between her legs. She placed her right hand back where it was, this time she pushed her hands between her legs and squeezed. She smiled at them as they looked on. She refrained from masturbating but the idea had lodged firmly in her brain. Her thoughts turned to her vibrator back at the flat. She had replaced her original Rabbit twice but the black dildo still did service as a vagina filler while the Rabbit worked the outside of her pussy and clitoris. She had last used it about six months ago. Tonight, she would definitely use them both.

Half an hour later, the film came to a conclusion. Jodie remained in her seat, waiting for Guy and Girl to vacate their seats to allow her to exit. They took their time getting themselves ready, picking up their popcorn container and the paper cups. They stood up and moved along the row of seats until they reached the aisle. They made space for her to exit the row. As she did so, Guy said,

“Hi, I’m Adam. This is Evelyn, Eve. I know, corny, eh?” he smiled and extended his hand.

“Jodie, just Jodie. Pleased to meet you. What happened in there?”

“Evelyn lives at home, so do I. My father is a Mullah, a preacher, hers is a police officer. She’s Hindu and I’m Muslim. We’d be killed if they knew we are to be seeing each other. So we come here to be having the only sex we can without being exposed.”

“Hm, you didn’t mind exposing it to me!”

“You looked so lonely. Eve said we should let you watch, cheer you up! Did we? Did we cheer you up, Jodie?”

“Yes, Adam, you did, thanks for that. I needed something different in my life and you just did that for sure. I have no idea why I did what I did but I’m not sorry it happened. It was really very exciting.”

A voice behind them interrupted their conversation.

“Please leave the theatre. A new showing begins soon. Thank you.”

The attendant ushered them away from the screen. They walked up the sloping aisle to the exit and stepped out into the foyer of the cinema. While they moved to the main entrance, a thought crossed Jodie’s mind.

“What about Eve. What does she get from this?”

Jodie noticed they stood about the same height, making Eve a tall young woman. Adam looked to be about six-one or two.

“Oh, I don’t mind. I do it myself when I get home. It’s not a problem, really.”

“If you want to do it for each other, you know, properly, or whatever, you can come back to my place. If you like. I live alone just along the road about half a mile. I’ve watched you twice already, once more would be a complete set. Up to you.”

Adam and Eve exchanged glances. They held hands and laughed.

“Really? Wow. That would be amazing. We’ve been together a year and not having been seeing each other properly, if you know what I am meaning.” said Adam.

“You mean, naked? I think I’d like to see that too! I haven’t seen anyone as beautiful as Eve for a long time. You too, come to that, Adam. Come on, it’s ten minutes walk.”

They hurried under Jodie’s umbrella as the drizzle insisted in making the evening as miserable as possible. Jodie ignored the weather and thought of the positive energy flowing from the couple to her right. As they passed Boots, Eve peeled off and went inside. Adam and Jodie followed her inside, gaining some respite from the rain. Eve didn’t waste time, going straight to the check-out, picking up two small packets as she stood in the queue of two. She handed over the money, refused the bag and returned to the door where they both waited for her.

“Come on. I got six! Can you do it six times tonight, Adam?”

“I don’t know. I can try!” they both laughed.

Four

Jodie hung their coats on the stand behind the kitchen door.

“Do you want a drink? I have beer, wine, tea, coffee, whatever.”

“I’d love a tea, Jodie.” said Adam.

“Can I have a beer please?” said Eve.

Jodie put the kettle on to boil, opened two bottles of beer and clinked the bottom against Eve’s bottle.

”Oh, sorry, do you want a glass? I’m so used to drinking it straight from the bottle. I’ve forgotten how to behave.”

“No problem, the bottle is fine. It stays cooler this way.”

They sipped at the beer and waited for the kettle to boil.

“I have Earl Grey or black breakfast tea, which would you like?”

“Just regular black tea is great. Do you have any milk? No sugar, thanks.”

“Come and sit. Do you want me to leave you two alone? I can watch TV in my bedroom if you’d prefer.”

Eve looked at Adam, he gave her an almost undetectable nod. Adam spoke.

“You said you’d like to see how beautiful Eve is naked so it’s only being fair if you get to stay and watch, if you are being agreeable to that, if you like?”

“Oh, could I? That would be wonderful. Let me get my toys. I have a feeling I might need them. You two can begin without me. I need a shower. Do you want one too, before, you know, well, whatever, as you like.”

Jodie had no idea of the protocol involved here since it was a first time event in her very humdrum life, as it would be for most people. She decided to stay out of their way for a few minutes. Perhaps they’d begin without her and she could just sit and watch and maybe use her toys. She showered, shaved under her arms and trimmed her pubic hair the way she used to do a lifetime ago when it mattered to her.

After about fifteen minutes, Jodie returned to the living room. Adam and Eve lay side by side, naked on the sofa. They kissed, evidently unused to each other’s bodies, even though they had obviously perfected the oral sex in the cinema routine. Adam had his left hand over Eve’s pussy, stroking and sliding his fingers into her glistening lips. Jodie could see the wetness on his hand. His right hand fondled her considerable breasts, kneading them gently into the palm of his hand. She held his erection in her hand, her hand still, savouring the feeling of his hands, no doubt. Her body shone in the lights, voluptuous, firm, toned, amber-skinned, her hips and breasts swelled and dipped in perfect symmetry. Indeed, beautiful, decided Jodie. Adam likewise impressed her as being a well proportioned if somewhat slender young man, indeed, beautiful too!

Jodie sat on the adjacent easy chair and opened the front of her terry-cloth robe. She lay the toys on the arm of the chair and stroked herself, one hand over her pussy, the other over her breasts, mimicking Adam’s actions on Eve’s svelte body. Eve kept looking down at his cock. It seemed she had only ever seen it in the cinema, in the dark! The brightly lit room must have struck them both as a novelty.

“You both look very beautiful. Really, stunning. I love your body, Eve and your face is as beautiful as the one and only Indian actress I know of, Deepika Padukone. I saw her in a film called Cocktail one rainy Sunday a few years ago and remember her name because it’s so difficult to say! Sorry, I’m interrupting. Carry on, please. Don’t stop now.”

“You look good too, Jodie. Your body is in fine shape. What are you being, about forty?” asked Adam.

“Ha! I wish, forty seven next month. Listen, you carry on. This talking will spoil the mood. You look ready to use one of those condoms, Adam.”

Adam looked at Eve, “Are you sure, Sweetheart?”

“Yes, please, now, hurry. I want this, Adam, Darling, please, don’t wait.”

Adam rolled onto his back, picked the foil packet off the floor next to him and opened the packet. Jodie was a little surprised to see Eve helping to unroll it over the length of Adam’s cock. He stood, she lay back and opened her legs, inviting him in. Adam knelt on the sofa and lowered his hips, held his cock and aimed the tip at Eve’s pussy. He paused, one last time, but it didn’t look as if Eve was about to change her mind. She held his hips and guided him inside, pulling him into her as she raised her hips to meet his thrust. He slid into her evidently well lubricated pussy, sliding over half into her in one smooth move. Eve groaned and threw her head back as Adam thrust deeper. He held his torso clear of her body, one hand on the back of the sofa the other beside her shoulder.

“Look, Sweetheart. Look at my cock!” he hissed.

Eve looked down, she had a grimace on her beautiful face, as if in some discomfort, maybe even in pain. Her face lit up into a smile when she saw his cock disappearing into her hairless pussy. Jodie stroked herself deeper, wetting her fingers as they slid into her pussy. She concentrated on Adam’s cock driving in and out of Eve’s pussy. The sight aroused her more than she had ever imagined it would. Her passion soared, her clitoris throbbed, she rubbed faster, the toys forgotten, for now. She didn’t need them All she needed were these two beautiful people fucking not six feet away from her on her sofa in her flat in Lewisham. How fucking crazy was that? Eve’s breasts rotated as Adam thrust into her, the nipples extended, dark, quite large, thought Jodie.

The pressure rose, the pace increased, the tension stretched as Jodie ‘s orgasm approached. The rapid onset of her pre-orgasmic trembling and tingling sensations surprised her as she rubbed harder, faster. Eve looked across at her, watching Jodie’s hand masturbating her exposed body. Eve spoke and Adam turned his head to look. Jodie exploded and squirted three or four small jets of clear liquid onto the carpet in front of her. She cried out, shook and shuddered as her orgasm surged through her in waves after wave of scorching passion.

Eve joined her, crying out and squealing as she became rigid, still, extended like a board until she finally exploded in a paroxysm of delight and vibrations. She collapsed back onto the sofa just as Adam announced his orgasm.

“Fuck, cumming now, Fuck me! Yess, Oh, Baby, fuck me!”

His hips jerked, fast, just a small movement as he appeared to try and push his whole body inside Eve’s vagina. He grunted several times, evidently in time with his ejaculations, five or six loud grunts. Jodie kept rubbing, snatching the black dildo off the chair. Sliding it into her pussy, she made sure she was full of cock, even if it was hard silicone, it did the job perfectly. Jodie imagined it was his cock, filling her with his hardness. She thrust and rubbed, her sexual arousal already at fever pitch after laying dormant for so very long. I few short moments of the intense stimulation and the sight of these two beautiful people watching her brought her to the peak of arousal in record time. The long, deep strokes and the hard rubbing on her clitoris were enough, her second orgasm blasted through her warm body. She cried out, her legs straightened in front of the chair, her hand stopped the clear liquid from splashing on to the floor. She vibrated, shuddered and gasped for breath as the electric shocks zapped through her body. Jodie came about the time Adam pumped his last drop of semen deep inside Eve’s pussy.

The room became quiet. Adam dropped his weight onto Eve who seemed to cope well with the load. Jodie sat back in the chair and finished her beer. It was warm. She needed another, she decided.

“Anyone want anything else to drink?”

“No, thank you,” they spoke in unison.

The End of Part 1

If you would like me to write Part 2 please leave a request in my mailbox or comment below.

Jefferson Merrick has several full-length erotic novels available.