Still I waited. Day followed night followed day followed night until, on the next full moon, I sensed his impossible presence. Footsteps. Breathing. Though I dared not look, dared not break the spell, I barely needed to, could picture him in all his glory standing before me. Undoing his cloak. Letting it fall. Stepping forward till he stood naked between my welcoming thighs, his manhood drawn back, its shaft straight, the shining arrowed head aimed unerringly at its target.
Weight pressed on me. Bitter breath affronted me. The burning pain in my loins was instant and unbearable. My dripping blood hissed as it hit the crystal lattice that supported us. A monster's roar ripped the air. Shock prised open my eyes. A beast rode me, rose above me, its fiery hair casting sparks into the rising wind. A gaping mouth, a neglected graveyard of yellowed stones, now filled my incredulous gaze, and issued a string of humiliating obscenities from its putrid depths.
'Oh, fuck, Caz! Fuck! You're a virgin. You really are a fucking virgin!'
Believe it or believe it not, I was grateful for James. I loved him. And for a while we were happy. Eventually, two over-sized ginger crowns stretched my once-tight pussy; two hungry mouths suckled on my once-tiny nipples. As my twenties expired, I realised I'd put on some weight - something I used to dream of as a teenager, though something that gave me nightmares as a mum - and had settled into dour though reassuring domesticity. We talked about school sometimes, James and I, laughed about the teachers and the stuff we got up to.
*
'You fancied that Cole guy, didn't you?'
We'd just fucked, a once regular event growing rarer and rarer. As he'd hurriedly withdrawn, James' last spurt had splashed my gaping gash then dribbled across my anus; the rest would soon be leaking from me and onto the sheets, and I had to clamp my thighs together to avoid the dreaded wet patch.
'Nnnnno!'
He licked a stiff nipple.
'Yes, yer did. Alice told me...'
Her name and our marriage were uneasy bedfellows, even at more than ten years' distance. I pushed him off me and onto my side of the bed then rolled onto his. Clenching my teeth, I twisted my face, screwed up my eyes, but even in the stupid pig-ugly darkness, the words wouldn't come. Fuck it. In frustration, I opened my thighs, pulsed my loins and baptised the bottom sheet with his congealing cum. Sleep on that, you fucker. Childish, I know, but sometimes he deserved it.
'Then she was lying.' I flung my legs out of bed, slipped on my slippers and made for the bathroom. While snatching a silk dressing gown off the back of the door, I tossed sackcloth words over my shoulder. 'She lies about lots of things.'
Read the conclusion of this torrid tale plus eleven further stories in ' The Big Bag of Sexy Allsorts', a tooth-rotting collection of concise erotica, available now exclusively on Amazon.
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