Chapter 3

Paul found himself settling with surprising ease into his new life. He took on a job at a local newsagent to pay his way. At first he found the early shifts a chore but gradually came to enjoy the quiet solitude before the rush of customers as he organized the shelves and prepared the daily papers. For her part Sandra continued with the office cleaning round but her eyes often wandered to the clock that ticked away the hours until she could be back in his arms.

It was some weeks after he moved in that he discovered another interesting facet to her character. One evening as he was rummaging through a cupboard he came across a couple of porno mags. He quite naturally assumed that these were the the last remnants of her ex’s presence ... But when he showed them to her she just laughed and said that they were hers. Apparently, during the last few months before she finally showed Jeff the door, he had shown very little interest in sex, drink always taking priority. She had taken refuge in porn as some kind of outlet for her natural desires.

The magazines were so graphic that even he was shocked, showcasing images that made his heart race and his cock throb. Her tastes were more explicit than he could have ever imagined. After having made love that night with quite some enthusiasm, stimulated somewhat by some of this imagery, they fell into conversation.

As he lay back on the bed, flicking through the pages, she perched next to him, commenting from time to time on what scenes she found the most arousing. Her eyes sparkled with a mischief he hadn’t seen before, and he was intrigued. “You know, I’ve always liked it a bit ... rougher,” she said, her gaze flicking to his.

He turned the pages more slowly, watching her reaction as each new image was revealed. Her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink as she pointed out a scene where a woman with narrow hips, much like hers, was being taken from behind by a muscular man. “It’s ... hot,” she murmured, her eyes lingering on the picture.

He felt a thrill run through him as he studied the raw passion etched on the woman’s face. “Yeah, it is,” he agreed, his voice husky with arousal. “But it’s not just the roughness that turns you on, is it?”

Her gaze dropped to her lap. “No,” she admitted, her voice barely a murmur. “It’s the ... the way she gives in to him, even though she’s a little scared.”

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers. “You fantasize about other men?”

Her cheeks grew warmer, but she nodded. “Sometimes, yes,” she confessed, her voice trembling. “But it’s not about them, it’s about the thrill, the danger, the idea of losing control.”

He set the mags aside, his own desires now crystallizing. “And what about you?” she asked, her eyes searching his. “What are your fantasies?”

He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his secret pressing against his chest. “Well, I’ve had this ... fantasy recently,” he began, his voice tentative. “I’ve wanted to watch you with other men.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in closer, her curiosity aroused. “Really?” she whispered, her voice a mix of shock and excitement.

He nodded, his heart racing. “Yeah, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to see you ... being fucked by a stranger.”

Her eyes searched his, a blend of trepidation and arousal swirling in their depths. She licked her lips nervously, the idea of sharing herself with others while he watched sending a jolt of excitement through her body.

“You’d like to see me with ... with another man?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

He nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. “Or maybe even two,” he said, feeling the excitement build as the words left his lips.

Her breath stopped at the thought. Her mind reeled with the images of herself sandwiched between them, their hands exploring her body, their tongues tasting every inch of her skin. It was a fantasy she had never shared with anyone.

The question hung in the air.

Suddenly, as if a dam had broken, she spoke, her voice trembling with excitement. “I want to do it,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “I want to live out my fantasy.”

He stared at her, unable to believe what he was hearing. His heart pounded in his chest as he processed her words. “You ... you want to...?”

She nodded, her voice steady. “Yes, I do. To lose control and let my body be used for pleasure.” She paused. “And if it will please you.”

He felt his world spin as he took in her words. He had never seen this side of her, but the thought of it was intoxicating.

“We’ll have to be careful,” he said, his mind racing. “We don’t want just anyone, we need to find someone who understands and respects what we’re looking for.”

She nodded in agreement, her cheeks flushing as she imagined the reality of her fantasy coming to life. They decided to start with an online search, looking for like-minded individuals. Eventually they came across a local forum for those with more exotic tastes. Her hands trembled as she read through the posts. Eventually they narrowed it down to three and messaged each of them in turn. The first two proved unsuitable but the third was more promising.

His name was Marcus, a man who described himself as “average at best” with a self-deprecating sense of humour. His profile was sparse, but he had uploaded a few pictures that suggested he was being somewhat modest.

They exchanged a few messages explaining what they were looking for and a brief telephone call to ensure he was no time waster. There was some mention of STDs and taking a test to which he readily agreed. Finally a date was set for the following Friday evening but with no commitments made on either side.

She found herself in a whirlwind of emotions as the time approached ... As she showered she scrutinized her body, her small, boyish breasts, narrow hips, and her rosebud nipples, all features she had been self-conscious about for years. Yet, in her fantasy, they were the focus of attention.

He noticed her nerves. “If at any point tonight you don’t feel comfortable, we can stop,” he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her neck. “Remember, this is for us, and if it’s not right, it’s not right.”

She took a deep breath, her pulse racing as she nodded. She had chosen a simple black dress, one that clung to her slim frame and accentuated the subtle curves she had. Her light brown hair fell in soft waves around her face, and she had applied just enough makeup to highlight her features without hiding them.

He could see the excitement and trepidation in her eyes. He had cleaned and tidied up, making sure everything was perfect for the evening ahead. They sat down on the couch, their knees brushing against each other.

“You know,” he said, “you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

She blushed, her heart racing as she felt the heat from his hand on her knee. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. Yet, with him by her side, she felt a strange sense of power, a feeling that she could conquer anything.

Right on time the doorbell rang, and she took a deep breath. This was it. She looked up at him. He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Remember,” he whispered, “you’re in control.”

She walked to the door, her knees feeling like jelly. She opened it to find Marcus standing there, looking slightly awkward in a pair of jeans and a long sleeve T-shirt. His smile was tentative, as if he weren’t quite sure if he was welcome.

Paul stepped in behind her, placing a gentle hand on her waist. “Hi Marcus,” he said, his voice firm and steady. “We’re so glad you could make it.”

Marcus nodded, his eyes flickering between the two of them. “Thank you for having me,” he murmured.

He stepped aside, allowing Marcus to enter the sitting room. Paul could feel her tension, but also a hint of excitement emanating from her. He knew this was a big step for her, and he was determined to make it as comfortable as possible.

Marcus looked around the neatly organized room, his eyes finally settling on her. “You look ... amazing,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

Paul nodded in approval, squeezing her waist. “Why don’t we sit down and talk for a bit?” he suggested, gesturing towards the couch. “Would you like a drink?”

Marcus nodded gratefully, and she hurried to the kitchen to get him a beer, her mind racing with the anticipation of what was to come. As she handed it to him, their fingers brushed, sending a shiver down her spine. She had already had a couple of glasses of wine to steady her nerves. Paul was sticking to mineral water

They sat in a tense silence for a moment, sipping their drinks, before Paul broke the ice. “So, Marcus, tell us a little about yourself,” he said, his tone conversational.

Marcus took a deep breath and launched into a nervous monologue about his job, his hobbies and so forth. She listened, her heart racing, as she took in his appearance. He was a black middle aged man with a little bit of paunch, shaved head and sporting a slightly greying beard and moustache. He wore glasses but overall he had a pleasing demeanour. He was most suitable to her eyes.

Paul noticed the way she studied Marcus, and he felt his own excitement build. He knew this was her fantasy, but he also knew that he was just as eager to watch her explore it.

As Marcus talked, her hand inched closer to her glass of wine, her eyes never leaving the man in front of her. She took a sip, the alcohol warming her from the inside out, and she felt her inhibitions begin to melt away.

Paul could sense her growing comfort and decided to steer the conversation in a more intimate direction. “So, Marcus,” he began, “what are your thoughts on the kind of evening we have planned?”

Marcus swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I’m ... I’m just here to make sure you both have a good time,” he stuttered, his eyes darting between them.

Paul nodded, his gaze intense. “And we will, but it’s important that everyone feels safe and comfortable,” he said firmly. “Sandra’s in charge tonight. If anything happens that she’s not okay with, we stop.”

Marcus nodded, his eyes wide. “Of course, I’m here to please,” he murmured.

Paul’s hand slid up to the back of her neck, gently massaging the tension away. “Remember, you can tell us to stop at any time,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.

She nodded, her eyes locked on Marcus’. She felt a thrill of power as she realized that she truly was in control. This was her fantasy, and she could dictate every move.

Paul watched them, his own arousal building. He had never seen her so alive, so vibrant. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of fear and excitement, and he knew she was ready to take this step with him.

She took a deep breath and stood, setting her wine glass down on the table with a gentle clink. “Thank you, Marcus,” she said, her voice steady. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Paul followed closely behind the pair, his cock already swollen with anticipation. The sight of her leading Marcus, her movements deliberate and confident, was more than he could have ever hoped for.

In the bedroom, she turned to face them, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. “I need to know,” she said, her eyes searching Paul’s, “that if I say stop, you’ll both stop immediately.”

He stepped forward, cupping her face in his hands. “You have my word, baby,” he said, his eyes burning with love and desire. “If anything feels off, just say the word.”

He watched as she turned to face Marcus, who was already hard, his eyes devouring her from head to toe. She took a step closer to him, her hands shaking slightly. “Would you ... would you like to kiss me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Marcus nodded, his eyes wide with excitement. He leaned in, his thick lips pressing against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she felt a strange sense of relief as she kissed him back. He was rough, almost clumsy, but it was exactly what she had fantasized about.

Paul watched from the side, his cock straining against his pants. He had never seen her so alive, so hungry for sexual contact. He could feel his own desire growing, his need to be a part of this intimate dance of power and pleasure.

She nodded, her hand trembling as she reached up to undo the zipper of her dress. She felt the fabric fall away, exposing her to Marcus’ eager gaze. She stood before them in nothing but her black lace g-string, her small, boyish breasts heaving with excitement.

Paul’s eyes were glued to her, his own desire evident in his tightened grip on the bedpost. He knew this was her fantasy, but watching her come alive in this way was a new kind of turn-on for him.

Marcus’ hands were shaking as he reached out to trace her nipple, his fingertips grazing her skin. She let out a soft moan, her eyes still closed, lost in the sensation of his touch.

Paul’s gaze was fixed on her, watching as Marcus’ hands moved to her breasts, squeezing gently. He could see her nipples harden, and he felt a pang of jealousy mingled with arousal. This was what she wanted, what she needed.

Marcus’ mouth found her neck, kissing and nibbling softly. Her eyes remained closed, her body responding to the sensations with a series of delicious shivers...

Paul’s gaze was intense, his eyes following every movement of Marcus’ hands as they explored the contours of her body. He watched as Marcus’ fingers slid down to her hips, pulling her closer, the fabric of her g-string pulling tight between the crack of her ass.

Marcus’ breathing grew heavier as he kissed her collarbone, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. She let out a gasp, her hand coming up to clutch at his head, urging him on. Her small breasts pressed against his chest, the hardness of her pert nipples evident for all to see.

Paul’s cock throbbed as he watched them, his hand slipping into his pants to gently stroke himself.

Her eyes remained closed, her head thrown back as Marcus’ mouth found her earlobe, sucking and nibbling gently.

He felt his cock pulse as he watched Marcus’ rough, calloused hands fondle her sensitive flesh. Her nipples stiffened even further in response to his rough caresses. He knew she was close to losing herself in the moment, her shyness forgotten as she revelled in this stranger’s attention.

She placed a hand on his chest, feeling his warmth and the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “You’re perfect,” she said, her voice filled with a sincerity that surprised even her.

Marcus’ eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of doubt or deceit. But all he found was a fiery passion that made him believe her words. His hands grew bolder, his touch more confident as he felt her responding to his advances.

She took the lead, her shyness replaced with an unexpected assertiveness. Her small breasts were pale and perfect, her pink nipples pointing upward like little berries ripe for the picking.

Marcus’ eyes widened as he took in the sight of her. Despite his initial self-consciousness, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of lust. Her body was a delicate canvas, untouched by the hands of men who had come before him.

“Your body,” he murmured, “it’s ... it’s beautiful.”

She felt a warmth spread through her as she heard Marcus’ words. Despite his initial nervousness, he seemed genuinely captivated by her. She reached up and traced her fingers over his chest, feeling his heart thumping wildly beneath her touch. “Thank you,” she said softly, “but it’s not just about what’s on the outside.”

With a newfound confidence, she stepped back from him, her eyes never leaving his. Her hands slid to the waistband of her black lace thong, and she began to inch it down her slender hips. She stepped out of it, leaving it in a pool at her feet, and stood before him completely bare.