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The following days I spent mostly with my parents. They had no telephone. Even if they had had one, I could not have used it for speaking to Emma. So, I relied on some phone booths – a safe distance from home – to have long, sexy, more and more salaciously detailed talks in which Emma often took the lead.

A less appreciated distraction was that a letter from Erika arrived every second day. I had to answer them. On the one hand, their so openly loving and even slyly sexy tone raised my hope that Erika’s ‘good girl’ defences were crumbling. She seemed to miss me and worry that I might not miss her enough.

She hinted that she would like to join me on my holiday. We could have lots of ‘fun’ — the highlight was hers – and she would love to meet my parents. That, however, did not sound like a good girl surrendering, but a preliminary to hook me into marrying her.

If I had not gotten involved with Emma and, therefore, did not want Erika anywhere near, would I have resisted this bait?

In outline, I told Emma of my problem over the phone. It greatly amused her. She could not stop laughing as she said it reminded her of Kate’s dilemma when she had to choose between sex that was fun or becoming Hannes’ good little wife.

Ending our talk and still full of mischief, Emma said she had good news for me. She would visit my parents and let me know. Then she hung up.

The next afternoon Emma dropped in at my parents at coffee time. She brought a cake from the local Konditorei and over a cup of coffee, she told us that her solicitor had found a buyer for Helmut’s building firm. Her worries about seeing that all the obligations and ongoing work after Helmut’s death were met and completed would be over. All that remained now was the sale of Helmut’s hunt.

Still addressing my parents, putting on a worried look, she added, “With Tom being here and being a forester, I thought of asking him to look at the papers regarding the hunt and its forest.”

Giving me a studied shy smile, Emma asked, “Could you come around sometime and have a look, Tom? I can’t make head or tail of the value of the wooded parts of Helmut’s hunt. It could take you some time, though.”

“I could come back with you now if it suits you. I’d be glad to help.”

“Oh, thank you, Tom, that would be great!”

Turning to my mother, Emma added:

“If Tom isn’t back for dinner, don’t wait for him. He’ll be still bent over my silly papers. Don’t worry, I’ll feed him.”

When we left together after Emma said her goodbye, we struggled to keep a straight face. Safely in Emma’s car, we burst into laughter, Emma until she hiccupped:

“To visit your parents, I put on a decent long frock. But Tom, God, was I hot for you underneath!”

After a hurried look, if anybody was near, she pulled up the loose skirt and flashed a shamelessly bare pussy at me. She murmured, “Aren’t we naughty? I wish you could touch and kiss it now, Tom.”

But then, without covering up, Emma started the car and drove us, defiantly slow, through the town centre to her villa. All along, I could not take my eyes off her bared thighs and bush as her legs worked the petals of Helmut’s Mercedes 300.

As soon as we were in the hallway and the entrance door clicked shut, we turned on each other for a savagely hungry, not-at-all foreplay-like kiss. Neither was there any tentative shyness in Emma’s gripping my cock. Not finding me wanting, her hurrying fingers unbuckled my belt, unzipped my trousers, and pushed them with my underpants down past my knees.

I followed suit and her so decent skirt slid simultaneously down to the floor. She stepped out of it, turned and bent over the heavy sideboard.

Wiggling her ass at me and looking over her shoulder, Emma panted, “Fuck me, Tom! Show me how much you want me! Don’t make me wait, Tom!… Fuck me!… Take me from behind… fuck me like a slut!”

I had managed to slip out of my shoes. Leaving my pants on the floor I stepped up. Grabbing my rock-hard cock, I let it slide up-and down and spread the crack of Emma’s quivering ass. But this time she would have none of such playfully sordid temptation. She reached back and guided my cock’s head into her cunt’s opening. Not waiting for me to push, she thrust back, spearing her cunt with a triumphant cry onto my steely rod.

As she behaved like a slut and had asked for it, while I again and again rammed in my cock to the hilt, I smacked her quite hard repeatedly on her buttocks. And Emma howled and whimpered, while each gasped, “Yes!… Yes, Tom!” was a lust-charged admission how much getting fucked and punished for being such a sex-crazed slut turned her on.

And I, being also so shamefully aroused by Emma’s lewd need karakoçan escort to be punished, could not last. I was spared the embarrassment of my premature ejaculation only by Emma’s demented shriek as she exploded too.

As I cried out and poured my load into her, Emma’s knees buckled, and her fingers clawed the top of the sideboard. And then, as I looked down on her grinding, red-smacked ass, in spasm after spasm, her churning cunt milked me dry.

Now that it had happened and we were left standing in the hallway, I was suddenly shocked by the rawness of what we had done. Both of us were lost for words; Emma took my hand and led me to the bathroom. We undressed. We gently washed each other under the warmth streaming down on us and soon the washing turned into more enticing caresses.

When we eventually kissed, I knew we were good: we had nothing to forgive each other, nothing to be sorry for. The storm of our desire had not turned us into beasts.

Laughing and at ease again, we dried each other. While Emma’s hands did not spare my still tender member, I dabbed her red-smacked bum very gently. Then, garbed in our familiar dressing gowns, we adjourned to the living room, where champagne glasses on the table awaited our arrival.

Emma fetched the bottle from the fridge, popped the cork and filled the glasses. After we had toasted each other and the second glass was filled, Emma lounged back on the diwan.

She gleefully confessed:

“I must apologise, Tom. The papers for the hunt and forest are already with my solicitor. There will be nothing for you to look at… but me! Telling your parents a little white lie got us at least five hours tonight.”

She giggled, “And there could be more. You can tell them that I asked you — when you found problems in the forest papers – to drive me up to Helmut’s hunt to have a look at the trees. You would also help me to clear all of Helmut’s stuff from the hut. If we can’t finish, we’ll be away overnight!”

Emma grinned. As she leaned in, her gown gapped seductively wider, revealing nicely aroused nipples:

“You will take me up to the hut, Tom, won’t you? As a forester, you can drive Helmut’s Unimog, can’t you? I’m sure your parents would not see anything wrong in you helping your cousin.”

I agreed enthusiastically to Emma’s plan, assuring her that I had driven Unimogs before and that I had no qualms about keeping my parents’ innocent minds at ease with another white lie.

Emma seemed mildly disappointed that she did not have to seduce me harder into coming with her to the hut. She lay back, looking both sullen and very seductive as she stretched her fabulous legs, toes curling, out from under a suddenly too-short gown:

“I warn you; we’ll have to rough it in the hut. Cold water only, and we could be too uncomfortable for any sex while we are up there. Do you still want to come?”

Emma noticed my momentary shock at her change into openly saying what lusting needs our lies were hiding. Crossing and uncrossing her legs shifted her gown ever higher. She noticed my eyes on her half-uncovered pussy.

Smiling coyly, she announced:

“To make up for what we will possibly miss out on at the hut, I’ll take you tonight into my lonely big bed. I hope you’ll fuck me silly — climax after climax, Tom – and give me something to dream about, in all the lonely nights after you are gone.”

She got up. Taking the bottle and glasses she said, “Are you coming?”

Emma had clearly hoped that I would return with her from her afternoon visit to my parents and — as with the glasses and champagne — had prepared the bedroom. The beautifully furnished room was moodily lit. It was still daylight outside and the heavy curtains were drawn

The huge bed was welcomingly uncovered, and the bedside lamps were lit and encased with a red cloth. On a closer look, I saw that Emma had covered the lamps with her sheerest panties. Now they bathed the room in a sinfully sexy red glow.

After placing the bottle and glasses on the bedside shelf, Emma turned. She untied her gown and let it slide to the ground. Stepping up to me she untied my sash and gripping the gown pulled it down as she sank to her knees. She looked up at me as her mouth closed in on my growing erection.

Although she had gone down on her knees last time under the shower – where it had felt right – something made me grab Emma under her arms and pull her up.

Ignoring her muttered, “Don’t you want me to… “, I reached under her legs and lifted her into my arms. Fighting for balance, I staggered forward and threw her quite violently onto the bed.

As she bounced and I threw myself next to her, Emma burst into a fit karaköy escort of laughter at my, she thought, playful exuberance.

It stopped when I pulled her close and with my embarrassed face pressed into her neck stammered my excuse. I had to stop her, I said, I did not want her, a woman I deeply cared about, kneeling before me. Not ever.

For a long minute, Emma lay silent in my arms before her lips closed in on mine. And then we kissed, joining again and again. In the beginning, it was a loving, teasing, mingling of our tongues, but then it became a more and more lasciviously copulation with Emma arching her tits into my grip.

Finally, when two of my fingers slipped into her palpitating cunt and began their searching play, it drove Emma to the edge, “God, Tom, I’m so close again. Fuck me, Tom!… Fuck me, fuck me as I come!”

Kneeling between Emma’s legs, I grabbed her thighs and pushed my cock into her wide-open vagina. In drawing back for my second thrust, my rod was already gleaming from her cunt’s hot juices.

Soon I could release her thighs as she met every thrust of mine with a sinuous grinding of her pelvis. When I gathered her legs on my shoulders and leaned forward, Emma cried out. My cock must have kissed her cervix. Still, she met my following staccato thrusts with louder and louder gasps of, “Yes!… Yes, Tom!… Fuck me!… Hard!… Fuck me hard!”

When I paused to kiss her — with my rod in her cunt to the hilt and her legs pressing on her shoulders, Emma guffawed. Then, her voice hoarse with lust, she stammered:

“I just had to get you into my bed, Tom,… into this unholy missionary position… with no turning away our faces as we fuck!… We look at each other… moan at each other… it turns us on more and more… doesn’t it… as we fuck!… You are not stopping yet, are you, Tom? Fuck me… make me come… you do it… God, again and again!”

As she talked, Emma pushed me back into my kneeling position. It did not signal an end. I no longer had to hold her long legs on my shoulder; she had crossed them behind my neck.

As she ground her cunt against my deeply embedded rock-hard rod, Emma threw back her head and began to make love to her tits, moulding them, pressing them together. Eventually, she pinched her nipples into a proudly swollen glory. Looking at me, her lips formed soundless words that asked how much she and her glorious tits turned me on.

My twitching cock in her churning cunt must have given her the answer.

Suddenly Emma licked her fingers. She winked at me and whispered, “Look, Tom, watch me!” as her hands began to slide down, over her tits and straining belly, to her pussy, and the fingers of one hand parted the hair of her bush.

With me kneeling and looking down, a finger of Emma’s other hand started a lengthy, salaciously unchaste, rather rough and excited, play with her clit, while I, wildly aroused, pumped my cock harder and harder deep into her juice-squishing cunt.

After letting me watch her masturbatory clit play for a long minute or so, Emma, with her eyes lowered and her face filled with lust, whispered:

“Your mouth, Tom, your tongue can excite my little clit much more than my fingers! Kiss it, Tom, suck my clit!… You are not shy of tasting my now so hot-fucked pussy, are you?… Come, eat me, Tom!… Eat me and fuck me and eat me till I come and come!”

Not waiting for an answer, Emma’s legs released me. As I slid down, they spread, and Emma’s fingers were pulling her pussy’s lips apart inviting me to feast. I clumsily rushed in, pressing my mouth into her pussy’s heat and my tongue — did it sink or was it sucked — dived deep into Emma’s hot-churning cunt.

My tongue in her just hard-fucked cunt was for Emma a poor substitute. She clasped my cheeks and slid my mouth the crucial centimetres higher. Then, over long minutes, filled with Emma’s cries and pitched higher and higher love song, I made, I thought, almost too violently love to her clit.

Having watched and learned from her masturbating fingers, my mouth, tongue, and teeth showed her rampant, by now hyperexcited little nub no mercy. And then — with her pussy already shivering against my mouth – I sank first one, then two, and eventually three turning and bending, lasciviously touching-her-up fingers, deep into her cunt.

It made Emma explode with a flooding rush that almost drowned me as her shivering, cramping-up thighs locked my face onto her gushing pussy.

When her legs momentarily released me, Emma bent forward, her hands reaching for me to pull me up. I followed suit, and as we joined in a wild, still gasping for air, cunt-juice-tasting kiss, my cock slipped again into karaman escort Emma.

And as she moaned a quivering, “Yes, Tom, yes!’ into my mouth, my climax roared in. Shouting in triumph, I gripped Emma’s buttocks and rammed my spurting cock, again and again, into her still climaxing cunt.

We rested in a loving cuddle for long minutes, stroking each other’s back in a calming caress. I felt no shame, no need to apologise to Emma for what I had done. And she confirmed it when I felt her body shaking with laughter as she started to cover my face — still shiny-wet from her coming — with dozens of kisses.

Eventually, she whispered, “Until now with you, Tom, I never knew how fabulous, how wonderful sex could really be…. God, with you I come, and come, and come!… Only because you are giving yourself so totally to me, can I give myself to you, with no fear or shame ever holding me back.”

I did not want to admit that she was the first woman I had such sex with and that I did not know yet how different sex with other women could be. So, I inadvertently told the truth by replying that she, Emma, was for me — it suggested a level of experience I did not have – a woman like no other. And I wanted in our loving to be hers as much as she was mine.

Emma, pleased with my response, hugged and kissed me and declared, giggling, that she had guessed that I was a talented — no — the ideal lover for her.

Eventually — she checked the time – her more sober sense prevailed. She suggested we shower and get dressed. After all, she had promised my mother that she would feed me before driving me home.

After another loving and extended shower ritual, I skipped out into the hallway to put on my on-arrival-discarded clothes and shoes, while Emma went to the bedroom’s wardrobe for something suitable to wear.

When I joined Emma in the kitchen, where she was preparing a deliciously looking platter of goodies, I was the one conventionally, so to say, decently dressed.

Emma, in contrast, had slipped into the most transparent of her Egyptian caftans. She had also turned on most of the lights. My amazed stare she met with an impish smile.

Later, over our meal in the well-lit dining room, with her shapely, sexy tits pressing against the back-lit cloth, she told me that she would never have thought of wearing it, like now for me, for Helmut.

In the beginning, Emma said, she did not realise, that it was not her in this dress that turned Helmut on. His egotistical turn-on was that he could make her display herself, slut-like naked, to the leering, envious stares of his guests, whom he despised for wanting what was his and they could not have.

Pausing a little, Emma stretched back in her chair. She undeniably enjoyed that my eyes remained fixed on what she wanted to display.

She continued:

“It came as a shock when I realised that I could only turn Helmut on by being submissive. However, his need to be my dominator spoiled more and more my enjoyment in exhibiting myself and in sex with him. He had always preferred to take me, fuck me from behind. He would spontaneously, as we were going to bed, bend me over, sometimes rip off my panties and, without any talk or foreplay, fuck me.

“And after what I did to him in Val d’Isere, we rarely had sex although we still shared a bed. I would occasionally wake up being dragged to my knees to have his cock rammed into my dry cunt. I had ceased to climax when fucked from behind. And I also stopped faking when I realised that Helmut didn’t care.

“When he eventually decided to have a bedroom of his own, all the sex between us ended. It paradoxically improved our marriage.”

Emma stopped and gave me a meaningful look, “Now you know, Tom, why I waylaid you so shamelessly in the hallway.” She grinned, “I had to find out if it was the doggy position that stopped me from coming. Thank heaven, I learned it was not!”

Getting quickly serious again, with her face a wistful mask, Emma concluded her confession:

“Believe me, Tom, Helmut was not a monster. Except for my sexual dissatisfaction, ours was a good, an advantageous marriage for me. Helmut was wealthy and generous and — except for during sex — we, quite perversely, liked each other’s company.

“So, while we had sex, I just bent over to get fucked, or sank to my knees to suck his cock. I was not an innocent or powerless victim. Submitting to his sexual tastes demanded little of me: much less than trying to be a loving sexual partner or openly resisting.”

Emma rose from the table. Smiling down at me, she gave her bathed-in-light body a sinuous stretch before she left the room. When she returned, her dress was hidden under a coat. I must have looked disappointed.

She giggled:

“Come, Tom, I’ll drive you home. I won’t seduce you again. I did on the drive here…. I was the naughty one; not you. I so wanted to get wildly fucked and slapped, taken like a slut right on arrival! And God, didn’t you take me!”

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