Sexier Side of the Hill (4 page)

“Oh boy, that feels painful,” I murmured in his ear, massaging his cock through the thin barrier of his trousers.

“Oh it is,” he groaned. “Can you help me?”

“Yes, but you’ll have to step into my office. Come with me,” I commanded and he followed me to the bedroom.

“I’m shy. Can I bring a friend?”

“Certainly.” I nodded and Simon slipped into the bedroom behind us.

As much fun as role playing can be, I was not in the mood for it. I pulled Paul to me and kissed him as the door closed. Desperately, I pulled at his shirt to get at his flesh.

“Whoa there,” he groaned. “This is brand new. Sit down there party girl and let us do the rest. You’re only forty once, after all.”

He pushed me down onto the soft duvet. I laughed as I pulled myself up straight and watched as he undid his buttons. Side by side, the handsome pair stripped. Simon was methodical and filled with care. He folded each item and placed them on the bedside cabinet. In total contrast, Paul pulled and stretched and threw everything to the floor where they rested in a crumpled pile.

Soon they were both naked, and I was eager to start playing with my gifts.

“So, birthday girl what do you want us to do?” Paul asked, “Your wish is our command.”

My mind exploded with delicious scenarios. Two willing men and no limits? This was not something that happened everyday.

 
“Paul, kneel and suck Simon’s cock.” I found commanding them came easily, and I was delighted by the shock of lust that filled me as Paul followed my direction. I watched him take the shiny darkness into his mouth, his pink lips stretched beautifully around the chocolate hardness of Simon’s dick.

I slipped off my dress and kicked away my shoes. I lay down on my stomach, my feet on the pillow my head in my hands at just the right level to watch the action.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” I exclaimed, as Paul’s tongue flicked out to lick Simon’s balls. They wrinkled in response, and he kept on licking, sucking one into his mouth and then the other.

“Now Paul, lean over the bed and spread your legs.” I rolled to the side to give him room and watched as he did my bidding. “Now spank him, Simon. Make his arse pink.”

I heard Paul moan before Simon’s hand had fallen, and I knew I had chosen right. I had always suspected that Paul was in fact the submissive of the relationship. His gruffness always bowed to Simon’s decisiveness in the end. I relished the thwack of hard skin against buttock, and as I watched the rosy glow rise, I slipped a finger into my knickers and casually stroked my aching clit.

“Stop,” I yelled when it all became too much. “Kneel on the bed, Paul, on hands and knees. And Simon fuck his arse.”

Since our trip to France, I had fantasised about seeing them fuck. I watched with fascination as Simon put on a condom and lubed Paul’s arse. His fingers were gentle but demanding as they massaged. The liquid dripped down the crease of Paul’s arse and must have tickled his dangling balls. Simon was patient, he didn’t rush or force Paul to take more than he could manage, and I was about to command him to get on with it when he finally fed his cock in between Paul’s straining buttocks. The dark rod disappeared slowly into the creamy pink hole, and I remembered how satisfying it had felt in my arse.

I wanted to take in a different angle so I flipped around and watched Paul’s face as Simon began to pump. He grimaced with each thrust, but I was convinced that it was from pleasure not pain since it was paired with whimpering sighs and lusty growls.

I couldn’t stand to be the voyeur any more. I had to get in on the action.

“Lift your head,” I commanded Paul and moved in front of him. I pulled the crotch of my full black knickers to the side and I did not need to utter another word. His face descended to my cunt. He lapped away eagerly, moaning and whimpering as he was buggered. He sucked on my clit while Simon’s pace intensified.

I ground my pussy into Paul’s face as Simon roared his release, holding himself deep inside as his back arched and Paul grunted.

He continued to lick and suck in all the right places until I couldn’t hold back the pleasure anymore. I screamed loudly as I came, confident the music in the next room would drown the sound. I collapsed on my back and looked up to the ceiling as Paul and Simon disengaged. The sound of flesh slapping flesh made me raise up to my elbows, and I watched as Paul wanked furiously, his cock aimed at the mouth of his lover.

I hadn’t commanded them to do it, but it was the perfect way to finish off this treat. Paul’s cum was thick and unctuous and stuck to Simon’s lips and cheek, a stark contrast in colour until his tongue flicked out to lick the artistic mess that coated his face.

A loud crack followed by another made me look up, and I realised it was a round of applause.

“Darren?” I gasped, as I saw the stranger on my chair in the corner for the first time. “What are you doing here?” I was in a spin, my body aroused and my mind in shock. When had Darren arrived? So many questions buzzed around inside my head that I thought it might explode with the pressure. I didn’t know if I was angry, worried or ecstatic. Maybe I was experiencing an emotional cocktail of all three. I had invited him, hoping he would come but I had not even imagined that he actually would. It was a shock seeing him, it was painful as I realised what I had lost and it was a pleasure to have him close once more. I’d missed him so much.
 

“You invited me.” He shrugged. “So here I am.”

“Erm…” Paul looked confused. I don’t think he’d realised he had an audience either. “Are you alright, Michelle?”

“Yes, Yes. I know Darren. You guys go back to the party, I’ll come in and join you soon.”

“Are you sure?” Simon queried as he pulled on his clothes.

“I really am. Thanks lads, go and enjoy the party.”

I pulled myself to the edge of the bed, too taken by surprise to worry about being seen in only my underwear.

“I’m sorry I invaded your privacy,” Darren said to the men. “I was just looking for Michelle, and when I saw the show, I couldn’t pull myself away from it.”

“No worries, mate,” Paul said as he yanked up his zip. “I’d have done the same in your position.”

“Oh yes,” Simon tutted. “You would, would you?” and they continued to bicker as they dressed.

“Where’s your wife?” I asked Darren, wondering if a less pleasant surprise might await me on the other side of the door.

“I’m divorced,” he replied with shrug. “It was finalised a few months ago.”

“Oh,” I replied woodenly as he ran his fingers through his still straggly chestnut hair. “I’m sorry, what happened?”

“She was fucking her piano teacher, and I wasn’t invited.”

I heard the door as it clicked closed and knew we were alone.

“That’s not good.”

“No, it wasn’t. We’d only been married three months when I found out.”

“That’s harsh. I’m sorry Darren.” I meant it, too. How devastating to be betrayed like that. The guilt I’d held down for years began to rise. It contracted my heart and dried my throat.

He shrugged again. His shocking ice blue eyes pierced me as he spoke. “These things happen. We were obviously not meant to be.”

“Why have you come?” I asked, overjoyed to see him yet heavy in heart, knowing I’d hurt him so badly and remembering all the nights I’d cried myself to sleep, missing him.

“Curiosity, I suppose.” He shrugged. “I wanted to see how you were, if you’d changed or if you’d settled down. I think after what I have just witnessed I can safely say no, you haven’t changed.”

I wasn’t sure if it was just a statement or a sly dig. I blushed and nibbled my bottom lip.

“I’ve missed you,” I blurted out, speaking before my brain was in gear as I’d done so many times before.

“You hurt me,” was his reply. He stood up and shook his head. “You broke my heart, Michelle. You know that, don’t you?”

“I broke mine, too,” I replied. “I was an idiot, a stupid fool. I should have thought, I should have known. I didn’t mean to...”

“For a long time I didn’t believe that.” He strode across to the back wall and turned and walked back again. He always paced when he was agitated. “I thought you’d set out to do it, that you had wanted to be rid of me and it was the nastiest, cruellest way you could think of to sever our ties.”

“No,” I gasped. I reached out my hand then let it drop to my side before it touched him. “I was just naïve. No, I was stupid, pure and simple. I have no excuse, but I promise you there was no malice. I loved you.”

He nodded and pursed his thin but so giving lips. “I realised that, months after we split and I finally let myself think it through instead of riding my emotions. You’re not a cruel woman, Michelle. I overreacted.”

My heart raced and blood pumped past my ears. I hoped beyond hope that he was confessing something more than an understanding of what had happened all those years ago and held my breath although I wanted to scream at him to go on.

“I’ve forgiven you,” he sighed. His hands went into his hair again and pulled at the unruly waves “I know that sounds pompous and pretentious but—”

“It doesn’t. It sounds wonderful.” I cried. I literally cried, tears rolled down my cheeks as I stood up and looked him in the eye.

“I’m glad,” I whispered. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

I reached out my hands because I was flooded with emotion, and I needed something to cling on to. When he stepped forward I wrapped my arms around him and sobbed into his jumper covered shoulder.

“I know,” he whispered into my hair as he rested his cheek there. His voice was ravaged by emotion as he squeezed me as tight while I cuddled to him.

I looked up when I felt the pressure of his head lift from mine, and I was dazed by his eyes. They were so close to mine, and they shone with freshly shed tears. I kissed him. I didn’t hesitate. There was no Hollywood half-kiss moment. I just pressed my lips to his. It was as selfish as it was benevolent. I wanted to soothe him but I needed him to kiss me as much as I needed to press my lips to his.

For a moment, I was the only one kissing, and I almost fell back on my heels in embarrassment. Just as I made the decision to back off, his lips moved and his hands tightened around me. Passion, regret, longing, sorrow and love all flowed from me to him and our lips held a conversation filled with the emotions of the twelve months since the last time our lips had met.

I wanted to ask him a million things. I wanted to talk. I wanted to do this the adult way—I was forty after all—but my hormones decided they were not having any of that. I eased my hands under his warm woollen top and caressed his naked hips with my fingers. He moaned as I ran my fingers over his crotch. My breath halted in my lungs as I popped open the button at the top of his fly.

He responded with his hands. They slipped down to the back of my lacy bra and plucked, easing the material apart. I continued to unzip him, our lips tightly locked, then pushed the jeans and boxers down to his feet. He pulled away from me just long enough to remove my bra, then with a gentle push, he deposited me on the bed and kicked his way out of the tangle of shoes and pants that had him trapped.

At another moment I might have laughed, but the air was too heavy with tension and I was to busy removing my knickers to really notice.

“Condoms are—” I gasped as I threw my damp underwear to the floor. I wanted to feel him skin on skin, but I couldn’t take the risk as I hadn’t taken birth control for a while.

“I know, I’ve got them,” he replied, waving one at me. I was warmed by his concern for such things, and I hoped soon we could return to our old, naked ways. He climbed on to the bed. His young, vibrant body felt so good against mine. I had never forgotten how he felt but the memories had burrowed themselves into the recesses of my brain. Now, they suddenly burst back into life.

I had missed him so much. It seemed so shallow to focus on the sex, but I remembered what I had been missing sexually and my heart exploded with joy as his lips caressed my neck and his hands cupped my breasts.

“So beautiful,” he groaned. He kissed me and rubbed his thick erection along my thigh. I had always teased him about it being a third leg. He’s so skinny. His legs are bony but his cock is thick and long. My mouth watered as I reacquainted myself with it by wrapping it in my fist.

“I need to,” he groaned and pulled himself from my grasp and to his knees. “I’m sorry but I need to be inside you
now
.”

“Don’t apologise,” I said as he ripped open the condom he’d left at my side and slipped it over his cock. “I need you. Fuck, I need you so badly.”

He slid into me, hard without hesitation or thought for lubrication. I was wet though, and I welcomed him back into my cunt with a squeeze and a low rumbling groan. He felt amazing as he thrust, so good that tears pricked my eyes again. I’d thought I’d lost him forever. I could barely believe this was reality and not a dream.

“Michelle.” His body fell onto mine. His hand stroked my face as he continued to thrust, taking his weight on his elbows. “I missed you.” His face buried in my shoulder, and I held him as he sobbed his frustration, hurt and joy in time with the thrusts of his hips.

“I love you,” I gasped. His pelvis ground against my clit repetitively, and I felt a new orgasm gathering momentum as his thrusts became more desperate.