Our Arrangement

OUR ARRANGEMENT.

Mark and I grew up in a small tightly knit religious community. Our families were neighbours who regularly attended the same church, sent their kids to the same school and spent much of their time in each other's company. The result was that Mark and I were kind of thrown together, but that was fine. We liked each other from the start and always had similar interests, and over time our childhood friendship became deeper until it was accepted and encouraged by everyone that we should get married, and that is what happened when we both eventually reached twenty-one.

Of course, the constraints placed upon us by our devout parents meant that neither of us could even think of having sex before we were actually married, although I was surprised to find that Mark found the stricture much easier to cope with than I did. Every time I got what he thought was too amorous he would gently extract himself from my embrace and remind me that we had to wait. So wait we did and I went to the altar a virgin.

We had arranged our wedding to correspond with a promotion that Mark had been offered in the nearby city, the intention being that we would begin our married life at the same time as he began his new job and so make a completely fresh start. Both he and I were happy about that, mainly because we would start life together out from under the stifling control of our deeply religious families. Their pious devotion was neatly illustrated when we returned from our honeymoon and found that our new apartment had inexplicably grown a crucifix screwed to the wall of our bedroom. By unspoken agreement we took it down and consigned it to the depths of a cupboard. Out of respect we couldn't quite bring ourselves to throw it out altogether.

The honeymoon had not been a success. Of course we had enjoyed ourselves as any young couple would when let off the leash at a beachside resort, but in the bedroom it was a different matter. For the first three nights Mark and I tried to make love, but to put it in a nutshell he couldn't get it up, or at least he couldn't keep it up. We put it down to the tensions of being newly married and left nature to solve its own problem. But the result was that I returned from honeymoon still a virgin, not at all what I had expected.

Things did improve a little when we settled into our new home, but it was only a little and it took nearly three weeks for me to lose my unwanted virginity. We didn't indulge in the abandoned nights of unrelenting passion that I had envisaged. In fact sex was rare in the beginning and didn't get any more frequent as time went on, and even then it was about as unadventurous as it could possibly get. The problem for me was that now that I could have sex without feeling guilty I wanted to explore it, to try things, even things that people might regard as being a bit kinky, but there was no chance of that with Mark. I even had to remind him that there were more positions available than the missionary one, not that it made much difference. If it hadn't been for the fact that, like me, Mark wanted children, I don't think he would have been bothered if we never did it at all. Don't get me wrong, we were warm and affectionate with each other, it was just the sexual act bit that gave us trouble. Not once did I orgasm with him, that came only when I masturbated on my own, but I needed the simple physical contact that came with lovemaking and being married in church meant I couldn't look elsewhere.

Then about eighteen months after our wedding came a bombshell as far as I was concerned. We were still making love even if infrequently and we weren't using any precautions and so as time went by I expected to get pregnant, but I didn't. Without saying anything to Mark I went to see a doctor who sent me to a clinic who ran some tests, and gave me the one outcome I definitely didn't want. Apparently I have both an abnormal uterus and underdeveloped fallopian tubes and so I never would get pregnant. I didn't tell Mark - I daren't. I was pretty sure he'd either stop having sex with me completely or even walk out on me altogether, and I genuinely didn't want either. It did occur to me that my inability to conceive left the way open for me to get my sex somewhere else, but I took my marriage vows seriously and I didn't want to break them.

Of course the frustration I felt from insufficient sex and the secret I was keeping from my husband made me irritable, which in turn put a massive strain on our relationship. The end result was that I took to sulking and he took to going out on his own.

But then a strange thing happened, he suddenly seemed much more content with life. I tried to figure out what had so unexpectedly made him so much happier because it certainly wasn't me, and as a result I got suspicious. My initial thought was that he'd found another woman, but his lack of interest in sex made me abandon that idea almost as soon as it entered my head. But then one day I found out by accident that he wasn't going where he'd said he was and my suspicions about another woman were triggered once more. I decided to follow him.

It was dark when he went out, and as he went out on foot I had no trouble tailing him unseen. One thing was certain, he wasn't heading for the local bar as he had said, in fact the direction he took didn't seem as though it would take him to any accepted destination at all. Then it became more mysterious when he abruptly turned right and walked into the secluded car park of our local library, deserted after hours, and even more so when I got to the entrance just in time to see him jump into the passenger seat of a strange car. This is it, I thought, hiding quickly behind another car. But then I saw that it was a man rather than a woman who was driving. Back to the drawing board. Now what was he up to?

I shrank back into the shadows, rethinking my misgivings and mentally apologising to him and wondering what to do next. At that moment I suddenly saw the two men lean towards each other and kiss! It was only a quick peck before the driver started the car, but it was on the lips and that was enough.

Everything, and I mean everything, suddenly fell into place, the reason why he found sex with me so unappealing, the reason why he'd happily waited until after our wedding to do it all, and the reason why he'd been going out alone of an evening. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, whether I should be angry or just relieved, but at least now I knew. The truth of the matter was that Mark was gay and he would never really want me, and with that appalling realisation the tears suddenly began to flow.

I kept out of sight until the car containing my husband and the man I assumed was his lover pulled way, and then I leaned back against the car park wall while I waited for my head to stop spinning and my tears to stop running. Now what was I going to do? I could understand why he'd never said anything before. He would have been an outcast, in the literal sense, if he'd come out to his ultra-religious parents and maybe he thought that being married would ‘cure' him of his inclinations. But that didn't answer my question, what was I going to do now? Divorce was out of the question, our religion simply didn't allow it and we would both be ostracized by our families, even though neither of us really shared the strength of their beliefs.

In any case it was only our sex life that was awry, the rest of our relationship was fine. But it was obvious to me that I couldn't go on as things were, it was driving me crazy and it could never get better. It was okay for him to take a lover but all that did was sentence me to a life of effective celibacy. The answer, I thought, was equally obvious. If he could take a lover then so could I, and if he didn't want to tell me, then I wouldn't tell him. It was an answer born of anger and bitter betrayal, but the more I thought about it, the more obvious a solution it became. The next time I was presented with an opportunity, I decided, I was going to take it. After all, as I saw it the marriage vows that I held so dear had already been broken, smashed by my husband in following his unnatural inclinations. I was free to do as I wished. It wasn't an easy decision, mainly because although I can't say I loved Mark anymore, he was my partner, my husband, and a dear friend, and he was also my first and so far only sexual partner. Going to bed with someone else was not a step I would take lightly. I leaned against the wall and wiped the tears from my eyes, sniffled loudly and set off to walk home - alone.

But it's not as easy as that, is it? As I walked I deliberated. Did I really want to take a lover; did I really want to cheat on my husband, regardless of his behaviour? I couldn't even be absolutely sure that he was gay or that the man in the car was his lover, even though it seemed so obvious. By the time I reached our apartment block I was so confused I didn't know which way to turn. All I knew for sure was that I didn't know anything for sure. And then the thought of me waiting alone in our home while he was out satisfying his urges brought the tears back and by the time I pressed the button for the lift I was sobbing quietly again. When the doors opened I walked blindly forward and reached out for the button for my floor.

‘Hold on a minute.'

I'd heard the voice and the clattering of feet up the foyer steps but it didn't really register that it was someone else wanting the lift until the doors began to close again. Instinctively I put out my hand to stop them just as a dark haired man flung himself in beside me.

‘Thanks.' He gasped, and then he saw my tear stained face. ‘Hey, are you all right?'

I nodded mutely, trying to sniff back the tears.

‘You don't look all right. Are you sure everything's ok?'

I looked at him for the first time, recognising the man who lived on the next floor, directly above us. ‘No.' I blurted out, tears flooding down my face again. ‘My husband doesn't want me.'

‘He's left you?' He asked, jumping to the wrong conclusion. ‘Gee, I'm sorry.'

‘No' I shook my head, sobbing openly. ‘I almost wish he would.'

‘Hey, come on. You can't mean that.' His voice was full of concern and his arms opened. I fell into them, burying my face against his shoulder. ‘You've had a row; it'll be over by tomorrow.'

He didn't understand and I fought to find a way to explain, needing to tell someone. ‘Nothing like that. He doesn't want me.... You know.... He doesn't want me in bed.'

‘Then the man's a fool.' He pulled me closer. ‘You're beautiful.'

‘He likes other men.' There! It was out. I dissolved into tears once more.

‘My god, that's not something that's going to change.' His hand was stroking my back. I knew it was only a commiseration stroke, but it felt nice just to have someone care. I instinctively pushed myself closer.

‘I know.' I told him, snuffling. ‘But I can't leave him.'

He didn't ask why I couldn't, he just held me close as we carried on up. The lift jerked to a stop at my floor, but it felt so good in his arms that I made no effort to get out and I held him tight until the doors closed again. I just didn't want the contact to end. As the lift set off for his floor I turned my head and looked into his warm brown eyes. ‘I bet you're sorry you asked what was wrong now.' I hiccupped an attempt at a laugh.

‘And miss the chance to have a gorgeous girl snuggled up against me?' His smile was for real. ‘No way.'

We just gazed at each other for a few seconds and then we were kissing. I don't know who made the move, I think it was probably me, but suddenly our mouths were locked together and I was moaning deep in my throat. We pulled apart when we ran out of breath and just stood, still in each other's arms, and gazed at each other in shock.

‘What did that?' He asked quietly.

I shook my head. ‘I don't know, but it was nice.'

Our next kiss was longer and even more eager, and this time our tongues played together as well. We squeezed each other closer, I felt myself squirming against him, wanting to press myself into him, my hands roaming around his back. He was caressing me too, his hands stroking me, wandering around my back, right down until one hand cupped my bottom. I moaned my pleasure. I didn't want it to stop, in fact I wanted it to go on, longer and further. I was unexpectedly turned on. I wanted this man, this near stranger, and I was pretty sure that he wanted me too. My hand ran around to front of his jeans and explored until I found his cock. He was hard, really hard, his erection pushing vainly at his fly as if trying to escape. I ran my fingers along, feeling its length through the denim, but then he pushed me back, holding me at arm's length.

‘Wait.' He gasped. ‘Do you know what you're doing?'

‘Oh yes.' I told him, nodding frantically.

He opened his mouth to answer, but just then the doors slid open again on his floor and he dropped his hands, feigning innocence as we looked round. We were looking at a curious and entirely unconvinced elderly couple. The man smiled knowingly and tipped his hat as they entered. I was going to answer, to make some excuse, but my companion abruptly grabbed my hand and pulled me out, hauling me almost bodily along the corridor.

‘If we're going to do it.' He told me, not needing to specify. ‘At least let's get somewhere private.'

I knew what I was going to do; I was going to have sex with another man. But then, I giggled to myself, so was my husband and that made it equal. It would not be wrong to say I needed it. I needed to have a man inside me, a real man, one who was having me because he wanted to not because he felt obliged to.

I wouldn't have believed any woman who had told me before that night that she was desperate to be fucked, but I was, absolutely desperate. By the time we were through his door and into his hallway I was fumbling crazily at my clothes, and by the time he led me through the bedroom door I was more undressed than dressed.

‘Hey.' He gasped when I began reaching for his jeans. ‘Take your time.'

‘I can't.' I told him, meaning it. ‘I haven't got time.'

‘If he comes back, he won't know you're here.'

He'd thought the time limitation was because of my husband. It wasn't, it was because of my own sudden, desperate need.

‘I don't care.' I gasped, unclipping my bra and throwing it onto the floor. ‘I just want you.'

Moments later I was naked on the bed and all my clothes were scattered all along the way from the door. I watched him undress, more sedately than I had but still hurriedly. Even so, it gave me the chance to take a good look at my soon-to-be lover.

I'd seen him in the building of course, and half noticed that he was handsome, but now I looked him over properly. He was somewhere in his late twenties, I guessed, average height but muscularly built and with a kind of Mediterranean look about him, dark haired, olive skinned and much more hirsute than Mark. But what drew my eyes most, when he was finally naked, was the long stalk of a cock that grew from the dark curly nest of hair in his groin. That was what I was most interested in. I spread my legs ready for him.

‘You sure about this?' He asked, gazing down at me. I could see his eyes roaming my nakedness.

‘Oh yes, I'm sure.' I promised, holding my arms out to him. ‘Very sure.'

Reassured, he nodded and climbed onto the bed, sprawling out alongside me and threading an arm under my shoulders.

‘No.' I didn't want to wait and I certainly didn't need foreplay. ‘Just do it.' I pulled at his free arm, trying to roll him over on top of me.

Just for a moment he resisted, and then he was on top of me and I felt the tip of his cock searching for my hole. I reached down, wanting to guide him into me, but I wasn't needed, he found his way in and pushed himself home, his rock hard cock sliding all the way up me in one glorious thrust. I'd got a man inside me, a man who wanted to be there. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and smiled as he began to move inside me.

‘All the way.' I gasped. ‘Don't hold back.'

I meant that he could come inside me, in fact I wanted him to, but I think his interpretation was that I needed it hard, fast and deep, and that's what I got. It wasn't a long fuck but I have never been fucked so well in my life. He rammed into me like a jack hammer, thrusting as hard and deep as he could and all I could do was to cling onto his back, take it and enjoy it. I did enjoy it too, it was just what I needed to bolster my flagging ego and it felt fantastic. As I said, it didn't last long, but maybe that was for the best, I don't think I could have stood it for long because I just wasn't used to being taken like that. Before I'd even got accustomed to the power of it I was swept away with a tide of pure pleasure, and then I heard strange whimpering moans, the sort I make just before I come. I was astounded to find that it really was me, I was going to come, my first ever orgasm that wasn't self induced. I was feeling a massive climax building and I could tell by my partner's breathing in my ear that he was getting there too.

We came almost together, with me being first by a heartbeat or two. I can't describe it, I'd never had a man pumping into me just as I was coming, but the sensation was incredible. It was as if we'd melted together in one hot surge of ecstasy. I'm pretty sure I gouged chunks out of his shoulders, but if I did it didn't seem to bother him, he just ploughed me until at last he was empty and I was finished and we lay panting together on his bed.

Then it hit me. I'd just committed adultery. I'd broken the vows I'd made to my husband in front of everyone. I panicked.

‘I've got to go.' I told him, rolling from the bed and scrabbling around for my clothes.

‘Why the rush?' He lay there naked and staring, sounding understandably puzzled.

‘I've got to get home.'

I pulled on my clothes, not bothering about how I looked, and made for the door whilst he lay, still naked, and stared at me.

‘Are you sorry we did that?' He asked.

‘No.' I answered, meaning it but unable to reconcile what I was saying with what I was doing. ‘I've just got to go.'

I pulled open the bedroom door and rushed out into the hall.

‘At least tell me your name.'

His voice followed me and stopped me dead. I'd just had sex with a man and I didn't even know who he was.

‘I'm Rachel,' I called back. ‘Who are you?'

‘Carl.'

I was through the door, into the corridor and making for the stairs back to my own floor before he could say anything else. My head was spinning almost as badly as before, but at least now I knew for certain I wasn't unattractive and it was surprising what a difference that made.

I sat in our apartment thinking about everything that had happened since Mark had gone out to meet his lover that evening and by the time he returned I'd got my head straight and I'd made a decision. I knew what I was going to do. It wasn't exactly honest or morally correct, but in the circumstances I figured it would make my marriage workable.

He could tell there was something wrong the minute he walked in through the door. This time instead of greeting him in the hall I sat quietly in the lounge until he came through, and even then I didn't say hello.

‘What's the matter?' He asked. ‘Has something happened?'

‘You could say that.' I replied. ‘Sit down, we need to talk.'

He did as he was asked, looking decidedly wary.

‘I followed you tonight.' I announced bluntly. ‘I thought you might be going to meet another woman, but I was wrong, wasn't I?'

He sat looking guilty and said nothing, but I suppose there was nothing he could say.

‘You're gay, aren't you?' I wasn't asking, I was telling.

He still sat silently, but this time I was determined to get an answer, so I simply waited him out. I could see his eyes darting around as he sought a way out of his situation, until eventually he sighed. ‘Yes.'

‘And where does that leave us? What am I supposed to do with a queer for a husband?' He flinched as I deliberately used the derogatory term.

‘I don't know.' He shrugged and then raised his eyes to me for the first time. ‘I can't help it; it's the way I am.'

‘You didn't think to tell me that before we got married? You didn't think I'd expect a normal married life - in all departments?'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘Sorry's not good enough.' I told him. ‘You've got a lover and I've got nothing.'

‘What can I do, I can't help it.'

‘What do you think would happen if our parents got to hear about it, especially yours? What would they do if I told them that not only did you like to go to bed with men, but that you were cheating on me with a man?'

I knew exactly what his would do, and so did Mark. They'd pretend they'd never had a son named Mark, but they wouldn't forget and they'd make his life a misery every chance they got. As for mine, they'd insist I left him and, because I'd made my vows in church, they'd prevent me having anyone else for the rest of my life. In a nutshell, both our lives would be wrecked and I simply wasn't going to have that happen. In any case, I liked Mark and I wanted us to be together, even if we couldn't be a proper man and wife. I told Mark what arrangement I wanted.

I'd thought it through while I waited, and I decided that his sexuality didn't actually bother me too much now that I knew about it, and we could keep that a secret. He would continue to meet his lover and I would be free to find one of my own, after all I had my own urges and he would have to accept me having a lover if he wanted one himself. That way we could both have a meaningful sex life, the only stipulations being that in future we would always tell each other who we were meeting and when. I didn't ask for the details of what he'd already been up to and I didn't see the point in telling him what I had. He didn't hesitate, but then he wasn't really in any position to and it suited us both.

The strange thing is that after making our ‘arrangement' as we called it, we felt closer than we'd been for ages, I suppose because things were out in the open. We even tried briefly to make gentle love that night when we went to bed, although I remember wondering where his cock might have been earlier in the evening. It didn't work, but that didn't seem to matter, we'd entered a new phase in our relationship and it was our way of celebrating it.

The next evening he told me was going out.

‘Are you...?' I asked.

‘Yes.' He hesitated for a moment. ‘And his name is Toby.'

At least I knew where we stood, and I didn't mind his absence because I had something my conscience told me I needed to do. A few minutes after he'd gone I quietly left the apartment and headed for the floor above. I had an apology to make for my behaviour. I'd used Carl and now I felt guilty.

Carl answered the door and a look of confusion spread across his face.

‘Come in.' He said, making his voice deliberately neutral.

I stepped through into the hall and he promptly shut the door, standing there waiting for me to speak.

I was tongue tied, not sure how to say what I wanted, and so for maybe half a minute we just stood and looked at each other.

‘I'm sorry.' I blurted finally.

‘Whatever for?' He frowned.

‘For what happened last night.' I told him. ‘I shouldn't have done that. I had no idea if your wife was in, or if you were in a hurry or anything, or even if you fancied me. I guess I just needed a man.'

The frown turned to an expression of surprise. ‘Well, for one thing, I don't have a wife and I wasn't in any hurry. And I hadn't had sex for more than a year either for that matter, so I guess I was in need of it just as much as you were. So no apology is necessary, especially from your side.'

‘Oh.' That kind of took the wind out of my sails. But at least he wasn't mad with me.

‘To be truthful.' He went on. ‘When I saw it was you I thought you'd come to complain that I'd taken advantage of you when you were upset.'

‘No complaints. You were just what I needed.'

‘For me too.' He smiled. ‘Although it would have been better if we hadn't been in such a rush.'

I couldn't help but giggle at the memory of how frantic we'd both been. ‘I suppose so.' I agreed. ‘Things were a bit urgent, weren't they?'

‘I guess we both needed our itch scratching.' He looked hard at me. ‘But normally I like to take my time, don't you?'

We stood and looked at each other for one hell of a long minute, both of us having similar thoughts. I was wondering what the chances were of him becoming my lover, it certainly sounded as though he was interested, and I could see he was debating with himself as if speculating whether he wanted to start something with a married woman, even one who was going without at home. I certainly wouldn't mind, not after last night's performance.

‘Would you like someone who takes their time?' He asked tentatively, putting out an obvious feeler.

I nodded. ‘I just need some honest natural loving.' I told him. ‘I can't get that sort at home. You know why that is.'

‘And so that you know why I'm going without.' He paused. ‘It's because I was married once and breaking up hurt. I don't want any more romantic entanglements.'

I inclined my head in acknowledgement and then we stood and looked at each other. I think we both knew what we wanted, but neither wanted to be the first to say so. What we wanted was for us to become lovers but without the complication of a relationship, ‘fuck buddies' to use the more common term, but it's not an easy thing to ask for. We could easily have stood and gazed at each other until someone backed away, but I felt suddenly emboldened by what had gone before and I wasn't prepared for that to happen. We'd already hinted that we would like things to happen again, it was really just a case of when?

‘You free tonight?' I asked, taking the bull by the horns. ‘No strings attached.'

‘And every other Tuesday.' He answered, a broad smile creasing his face when I took the initiative. ‘Not to mention every Wednesday, Friday and Saturday.' He added hopefully.

I thought quickly, trying to remember which were Mark's nights out. As well as tonight - Tuesday, it was each Friday and Monday, not a match, but half way.

‘Let's try for every Tuesday and Friday.' I told him, smiling happily with relief. ‘Starting tonight.'

‘And other nights if we get the chance?' He suggested with a boyish grin.

‘Let's see how we get on together.' I replied, trying to be realistic. ‘We might not suit each other.'

‘Then let's go and find out.' He put out an arm, waving me through to the bedroom. ‘You're not in a rush tonight, are you?'

I smiled and shook my head. I hadn't intended, or I didn't think I'd intended, to begin anything with Carl, but now it was happening I wanted it to be as good as it could be and Mark wouldn't be back until late. ‘We can take all the time we need.'

I felt surprisingly shy this time as I undressed, even though my body was reminding me how much it needed a good session. I stripped with my back to Carl, only to turn round when I was naked to find him watching me across the bed. For a moment I felt very self-conscious, but then I saw the approving look in his eyes and I felt unexpectedly proud. Here, at least, was a man who could appreciate what he was looking at.

We climbed onto the bed from opposite sides with both of us feeling a little uncomfortable, then lay down and turned to face each other. I don't think he was used to getting women into his bed in such a cool rational way, and I wasn't used to getting into another man's bed at all. For about half a minute, a long half a minute, we lay looking at each other without touching, until finally he put his hand out and stroked my shoulder.

That touch was all it took. I melted, suddenly feeling wanted, and reached across to put my arm around him and draw him towards me with a soft murmured yes on my lips. We shuffled closer and my arm went around his back, pulling him into an embrace. He came willingly and suddenly I was on my back with him leaning over me, his hungry lips on mine and his warm hand on my breast. God, this man actually desired me!

His kiss was divine, not at all like the ones we shared previously when his tongue stabbed into my mouth as hard as it could. This time it was sensuous, insinuating itself between my lips and exploring my mouth, and then giving me the chance to respond. Don't get me wrong, I loved the way I'd been kissed on that first occasion and a hard and almost brutal fucking was just right for then, but now I needed making love to, and that's just what he was doing.

As he was kissing me his hand was gently playing with my breast, squeezing, manipulating, stroking, his fingertips lightly skating across my skin. At first it was just my breast, but soon he began to widen his play to let his fingers caress my arm, my shoulder, then my belly, until he was exploring me all over, going everywhere he could reach, travelling down the front of my body and onto the tops of my legs, back again and all the way up and along my arm, around my neck and down over my stomach until eventually, after what seemed like forever, his fingers ran through my pubes and over my mound, coming to rest almost where I wanted them most, right on the edge of my pussy.

For a couple of seconds he let them rest there, pulling his mouth from mine so that he could look down at me as if checking that he was doing what I wanted. I just lay and gazed back up at him. Of course he was doing what I wanted; although I had very little idea what that was, because I wasn't used to someone who went in for foreplay. Mark simply checked that I was wet and receptive before he entered me - or at least before he tried to, but Carl clearly had more than that in mind so I smiled up at him and waited.

He smiled back and I felt his fingers edge their way further down onto my pussy, easing my pussy lips open and running fingertips down along my slit. It was a kind of mild investigation, softly probing, exploring my folds and valleys, finding the little nubbin of my clit and then running down my pussy until he was pushing gently at my entrance. I felt a surge of pleasure run through me, making me hook an arm around his neck and pull him down for another kiss, my tongue pressing into his mouth, encouraging his fingers to follow my example.

He entered me slowly, his two fingers going steadily deeper until they were inside me as far as they would go, wriggling around and making me groan with pleasure. I'd never had that done to me before and I loved it, especially as his knuckles pressed hard against my entrance. I wondered almost hopefully if he could push any more fingers inside me and I moaned encouragingly into his kisses.

‘Anything you don't like?' He asked.

It was an unexpected question, one that I didn't really know how to answer. How did I know what I liked or didn't like when I'd experienced so little? ‘Try what you want.' I told him, my heart pounding with excitement wondering what he might do ‘I'll stop you if I don't like it.'

‘Don't worry.' He said. ‘I'm not especially kinky.'

I felt almost disappointed, I wanted to experience as much as I could. But then one man's ordinary is another's kinky, so I smiled and pulled him down for another kiss, gasping quietly as his fingers plunged into me.

His fingers felt wonderful. They twisted and turned and wriggled as he pushed them in and out, sending waves of pleasure racing through my whole body. He moved own a little on the bed so that his mouth could find my breast and to make it easier for him to play with me. Now his thumb could bump against my clitoris as his fingers were thrust into my vagina, adding to my pleasure. I'd never felt anything quite like that and very soon I could feel the beginnings of a climax building. I was making those little whimpering sounds again and I felt him smile around my nipple as he recognised them.

My climax was fabulous. Different from the one Carl had given me the night before, deeper, fuller, stronger, more meaningful, but just as incredible. I had my arms wrapped around him and I must have squeezed him so tightly that he nearly suffocated. My hips lifted, my pussy trying to reach for his fingers, trying to take them in deeper as I jerked and shuddered in the throes of my orgasm. When it slowly subsided I opened my eyes and looked up at his smiling face, smiling back and breathing hard with pure delight.

‘Good, was it?' He asked innocently.

‘Well, it was all right.' I told him, so happy I couldn't resist the tease, knowing full well he would recognise it for what it was.

‘I'll have to make sure the next one's better then, I suppose,'

I nodded eagerly, expecting him to roll on top of me, but he had other ideas. He did climb between my legs, but instead of doing what I expected, he slid down my body, pushing my legs back out of the way so that he was staring straight at my pussy. I wasn't sure what he intended to do, my heart was hammering at the thought, the possibility, that he meant to go down on me. Like so many things, I'd never experienced anyone do that to me and I couldn't believe that he would, not on our very first proper session together. I just hoped and prayed that he would. And he did. Slowly and deliberately he lowered his mouth to my pussy so that I felt his breathing on the skin of my thighs as he got closer. My hands gripped the bed sheet and I closed my eyes in wonderful anticipation.

The first touch was so soft I hardly felt it, just the very tip of his tongue moving along my slit, but slowly the touch became firmer and more insistent until he was probing right inside my hole and then moving to flick the tip of my clit with the tip of his tongue, sharp little blows that made me jerk in response. I'd fantasized many times about having something like that done to me, but the reality was so much better than anything I'd imagined, wonderful sensations spreading like waves rippling away from his tongue. I gripped my legs behind my knees and pulled them back, giving him as much access and as much encouragement as I could. I was in heaven and I didn't want him to stop.

He didn't stop, but he did change his method. Instead of flicking at my clit he suddenly placed his open mouth over me and began to firmly lick me along my pussy, his tongue pressing against my clit. I was still sensitive from my climax and very soon I felt those wonderful feelings return. I was heading for my second orgasm in a very few minutes.

I tried to keep still when I came, but it was impossible. I jerked and jolted, squirming under his tongue as he tried to keep contact. He pressed down on the backs of my thighs, trying to hold me still, but frustratingly I kept jerking away from his tongue, though in the end that simply served to make my climax last longer. I cried out, I know I cried out, but I have no idea what I said or if it was even words that came from my mouth. When it was done I fell back on the bed, panting for breath, my whole body trembling from the effects of coming. He looked up along my body and smiled at me, registering my returning attempt at a smile through dry lips, but he gave me no time to recover. Without a word he climbed up between my open legs and lay on top of me, his hand reaching back to guide himself into me. I wanted him, oh my god how I wanted him.

He found his way in very easily, I was so wet and wide from my climaxes that his cock almost found its own way there. This time there was none of the desperate urgency of our first time and he didn't enter me as forcefully as before, he simply eased himself into me, sliding in deeper as he inched himself forward until he was right on top of me and his cock was fully home. I held him in my arms and wrapped my legs around him as if I was trying to prevent him escaping, not that he wanted to. For a moment or two we just lay there, quietly savouring the feel of his cock inside my pussy before he began to thrust.

He began slowly, long lethargic thrusts that went all the way in and made me moan softly with each one. But then he started to speed up, pushing harder, more quickly until he was driving himself up me nearly as hard as the time before. I loved it, I let my legs fall away to give him more room, but I gripped his shoulders harder to compensate, hanging onto him as his he plunged into me. Soon we were both gasping into each other's ears, carried away by the wonderful sensation of hard energetic sex. I was smiling, I could feel my mouth wide with happiness at being fucked by such a wonderful man, a real man. He seemed to sense my smile for her raised his head, smiled back and then kissed me, our mouths locked together as we fucked. We couldn't stay like that for long, we had to part and gasp for breath into each other's ears once more. I think we could both feel our orgasms building, I certainly could, my third, and our pleasure noises got louder and louder, until finally we came together, Carl grunting loudly in my ear while I yelled out loud into his and squirmed in ecstasy beneath him.

It was good that this time I was doing it with Mark's agreement and Carl and I could lie together afterwards without my guilt trip kicking in. It was amazing the difference that made, just nuzzling together in each other's arms until our breathing settled down and quivering legs went back to normal. We were even able to shower together before we dressed and I left with a last lingering kiss and the promise to return on Friday.

I was home a little while before Mark returned, and while I waited I wondered how he would take the news that I'd already found myself a lover, although it was in accordance with our agreement. I wasn't sure if I should actually tell him that I'd already been in bed with him, but I figured that honesty was by far the best policy if we were to make our open marriage - for that is what it was - work properly.

In the event I was glad that I did, for he took it very matter-of-factly, asking if he knew the man. I told him he may have seen him around as he lived upstairs and that his name was Carl, and that I was going to see him again very soon. He nodded and smiled, a genuine smile that settled my lingering doubts about what we were doing.

‘I'm glad, because now we can both be straight with each other.' He grinned wryly. ‘Not that I'll ever be straight, but you know what I mean.'

It seemed such a strange thing to discuss, but for us it was the only way forward and we knew it. We would keep our love for each other and our bodies for our lovers. We'd made our arrangement because there was little else we could do and still feel human.