Chapter 20: Irate Irene's Ingenuity

The risk of being charged for statutory rape or sexual harassment caused me to use more restraint as the years went by. No doubt my fires burned less intensely also. And then there were no children at home and my less than faithful relationship with my similarly unfaithful wife came to an end.

Living alone in a downtown apartment was great. The alone part was by choice and sometimes I found someone to be together with me but after my interlude (or maybe interlewd) with Barbara I led a quiet life.

Another weekend had begun and I was reconciled to spending another quiet evening, unless I visited the bar downstairs where I could usually find some compliant company who was, like I, trolling for sex. And then the phone rang.

"Hello... Joe? Is that you?"

I recognized the voice right away. It had the same hesitation, sort of nervous, guilty tone I had heard after the first time I fucked her. It was Irene.

"My God! Irene! What a surprise! Where are you?" I knew she lived an hour or so outside the city where I lived and I'd met her briefly at a couple of cocktail parties in the past year or so. The meetings didn't amount to much since it was obvious that her husband didn't like me, a feeling that was mutual, I might add.

"I'm at the railway station. I'm in the city for the weekend and I'd like to see you if you have time for an old matron."

"Whenever... whatever you want, Irene. This old guy has nothing planned all weekend." Damn! She was into her forties now but the brief glimpses I'd had of her indicated that she still had a lovely legs and a beautiful ass. And even though her upper lip had a bit of dark fuzz her mouth looked as sexy and succulent as ever.

I took a fast shower and by the time I was finished the doorman called. I told him to let her in and during the time it took her to come up thirty floors in the elevator, I pulled on sweat pants and a t-shirt.

"Hah. I bet you never thought you'd be bothered by me again." Irene was at the door with an overnight bag and a big sample case in her hand. "Don't worry, Joe. I'm not going to impose on you for a bed. I have a reservation at the Westin." The hotel she named was only a block away and had I been a suspicious sort I might have questioned why she came here before she checked in unless she wanted to sleep here with me.

"I'm really glad to see you," I said sincerely as I took her coat. Damn! She was older but she looked great. The knitted, woolen dress she wore molded closely to her body and it didn't hide the bit of a pot she had but it showed off her lush ass which had maybe slipped a bit but was still lovely.

"Can I have a drink? I really need one." She sat on the sofa and put a thick, brown envelope on the coffee table. "Some white rum, if you have it. I still don't drink very often."

Should I remind her that it was white rum we had the first night we fucked? No, I was sure she remembered that. For about half an hour we sat and chatted about family and such while in short order she drained two hefty drinks and started on the third. The envelope was still there but she hadn't said anything about it nor had I asked even though my curiosity was killing me. It had been three weeks since I last had a woman and my balls were aching with the anticipation that Irene had come here for more than conversation. She had, but not in my wildest imaginings would I have guessed her real purpose.

"You're teasing me, you know? That envelope is driving me crazy."

"Oh Joe... I'm sorry," she said, blushing and looking down. Then she tilted the glass to her lips and downed her third drink in not much more than a half hour. "I'm embarrassed. And I'm crazy to even think the way I do. Get me another drink, Joe and maybe it will give me the courage to ask what I came her to request."

I brought her another drink but made this one a bit weaker. I wanted her relaxed but when... if I fucked her; I wanted her to be conscious. She took another sip and then picked up the envelope.

"First, Joe, I want you to look at what's in here," and she handed the envelope to me. "I don't really want you to look at what's in there but you have to in order to understand why I feel like I do." Then her eyes flooded, big fat tears rolled down her cheeks and she stifled a throaty sob.

"Oh God, Irene? What's the matter?" I put an arm around her shoulders and as I drew the warmth of her wool-clad body closer my penis swelled with desire. Then, with one hand shook the envelope and a VHS video cartridge and four 8 by 10 inch photos fell from the envelope.

The reason for Irene's dismay was immediately evident. The photos were of Ted, her husband. Naked. And with him was a much younger woman, also naked. The woman was rather pretty and she had tits that were larger than Irene's (not difficult) and the complete absence of any pubic hair on her bulging pussy made her look like she was barely into high school. I don't know how they managed the photos unless it was with a timer or they had a third person present but, however they did it, the poses were lewd.

I glanced sideways at Irene as I looked at the first photo. The girl was kneeling over Ted on the bed with her mouth surrounding the shiny, condom-encased head of his cock while she looked right at the camera. Irene's tongue passed slowly over her lips and it reminded me of how good she was giving head. Was she remembering it, too?

The next photo didn't show heads, only bodies. A lovely set of large, firm tits that no doubt were the same girl's and her slightly convex belly and below that a hairless twat with a cock pushed into it. The third and fourth were of the two of them fucking, one with him on top and the other with her sitting astride.

"The man's crazy," I said softly, hugging the sobbing woman closer. "Don't know how he can cheat on someone as lovely and sexy as you? How did you get the pictures?"

"Hanh... thank you Joe. You know she's young and beautiful and she has big tits and I'm none of those things. She's his secretary and I think he hired her just for this. The pictures... well... I got suspicious. He was... hanh..." and her discourse was interrupted by a sob. "He... hanh... was away on weekends a lot and... hanh... like... I found out he wasn't at work. And then two days ago I found these in his briefcase when he came back after being away. I don't... hanh... don't know what he whah... wanted them for? Or the video?"

I could feel her trembling against me as she spoke and then, when she finished, she took another long pull from her glass.

"I'm so sorry Irene. I thought... hoped... you deserved a good marriage. I'll do anything I can to make it better for you." My arm was far enough around her by then that my hand rested on the swell of her breasts but it wasn't quite the time to give a little, intimate squeeze. "And I'll try to control my baser instincts... but with someone as sexy as you that's going to be difficult."

"You're so sweet, Joe," and she tilted her tear-wet face up to mine. "But... there is something I'd like you to do. I want you to lose control of what you call your baser instincts. Oh God. I'm so embarrassed. I can't ask you. Will you look at the video? Maybe then I can ask?"

"Anything, Irene. Want me to shoot him? Maybe I wouldn't do that but there's lots else I might be able to do to get even for you."

"Do you still like me, Joe? I mean... like... sexually? Does an old woman like me still appeal to you?"

"Oh God yes, Irene. You know I do," and I gave her breast a gentle squeeze. I'm aching with desire for you right now. You're still sort of the love of my life."

"Oh Joe... I know you're just saying that... the 'love of my life' bit. But you are the love of my life. It was you who stole my virginity and taught me all sorts of awful things. And some I've never done since."

I lowered my face to hers and tasted her salty tears as my mouth closed over hers. Her lips felt as soft and sweet as I remembered and they parted easily to admit my tongue. Our kiss was gentle at first but very soon Irene was moaning and clutching me like a drowning man clutches a lifebuoy.