She’d definitely shouted, 'See you Friday night,' as she dashed from the flat on Tuesday morning. God knows what my face looked like when she burst in around 11 a.m. Friday morning and caught me vacuuming the hall. She dropped her bag, slipped a small rucksack off her shoulders and removed her jacket, all without taking her eyes off me. She looked worried, confused, if not a little scared.

‘Hi! Fuck, thought we had burglars… Oh, just a minute!’ She went back to the door and shouted down the path, ‘It’s Ok. Have a good weekend, Gareth, see you Monday!’ A car door slammed, its engine revved and it sped away, tooting its horn. She stepped back inside, closed the door, pecked my cheek and started to undo her bag. ‘Didn’t expect… hope you didn’t take the day off on my account, ‘cos…'

‘Well… yes… er… no. I felt a bit rough after last night. Overindulged a bit… er… with the beer,’ I added quickly. Several very disturbing scenes – all involving Anna in various parts of the flat - flashed before my eyes making me lose my train of thought. ‘But once I got up, I started to feel a bit better, thought I’d tidy up a bit…’ Worried and scared took a back seat as confused took over the controls of her facial muscles. I rarely tidied up and a question was slowly forming in her mind. A diversion was needed and I created one. ‘Maybe we could do lunch, go somewhere nice - we don’t seem to get much time together these days.’ She screwed her face up wistfully, an apology already softening her features.

‘Sorry, babe… I’ve some papers to quickly go through and then at twelve I’m meeting Amanda at the gym. From there I’m popping into the office for the rest of the afternoon. If I’d known you weren’t at work I could have made other plans…’

Bet you're also wondering why I wasn’t at work. Yes, I planned to go, but once Anna’s cab had pulled away at 7.22 and I’d actually taken stock of how I felt - actually looked at the state of the flat - I rang in sick. Even though I'd hardly slept and what little sleep I'd had was in a very uncomfortable chair, there was still the rather daunting task of cleaning up the place. It looked much worse in daylight. By 10.30, the bed had been changed, most of Anna’s traces had been removed, but there was bound to be something left amiss, some incriminating evidence, a barely visible clue that only a woman would see... maybe women mark their territory, leave secret signs to ward each other off… Thankfully, Gemma was instantly distracted by the work she had to do and had neither time nor inclination to consider anything else. The coffee table was soon covered in papers that made her furrow her brow and emit the occasional expletive. I switched on the TV and sat staring vacantly at its vacuous offerings, simply praying for Gemma to go out.

'Hello?'
'Hi. Alex?'
'No, sorry. There's no Stuart here. Sorry...' I had the remote in the other hand, was about to mute the TV, but wisely decided against it - the woman’s sexy voice might have carried across a silent room.
'Ok, gather you can't talk at the moment. Ring me later. Bye'
'No, sorry, you've got the wrong number... never heard of him. Bye.'
Gemma lifted her glasses onto the top of her head, tucked a stray coil of dark hair behind her left ear. She threw a sheaf of papers down onto the coffee table then yawned and stretched till her tanned, slender belly showed between her green t-shirt and faded blue jeans.
'Wrong number.' I smiled weakly and picked up the newspaper.
'Yeah, so I gathered.' She sat forwards in the black leather armchair, stared at me for a few seconds and I grew very uncomfortable, maybe even started to flush a little.
'Fancy a cuppa?' I slapped the paper down on the sofa, stood quickly and went through to the kitchen.


I began to flick through my phone, locating the 'Settings' page to turn off the ringer and vibrating alert. It felt like a bloody landmine in my palm and I was terrified it would go off again before I'd defused it. My heart was pumping, clumsy fingers were fumbling - I couldn't cope with the thought that Anna might ring again or maybe even text me while Gemma was there - I was a terrible liar. A foot scuffed the kitchen floor and there she was, standing in the doorway, eyeing me up suspiciously.
'Alex, put your bloody phone down and get the kettle on! How was the stag party? Who was there?'
'It was Ok… just the usual bunch of losers from work. How was the conference? Did Gareth's presentation fall on its arse as per usual? ' My head was starting to spin, but I'd managed to deflect her questions and change the subject too.
'Ooh, do I detect a hint of jealousy?' I rolled my eyes and half smiled at her very predictable reply. I despised Gareth, the smug, smarmy bastard, hated the way her firm always insisted they both attend those types of events. Gareth always made some sly innuendo about their time away together and, though I was certain Gemma wasn’t sleeping with him, she knew I hated him and loved to tease me about it.

‘And didn’t you say you’d be back Friday night?’

'Yeah, well, this morning was cancelled and the afternoon wasn’t looking very exciting so we called it a day, set off before the traffic got too bad… Gareth hates driving in traffic…and no, his bit went very well, actually. He can be very persuasive when he puts his mind to it,' and she sidled sexily up to me. 'If his cock was anything like yours, I might even be tempted...'
'And what makes you so sure it isn't like mine?'
'Remember? He's seeing Amanda - my best friend, doh! Girls always discuss that kind of thing, yer know,' and she wiggled her little finger and giggled.
'So that's why she always comes round here, tries it on with me when you're away.'
'Ha, in your fucking dreams! Anyway, I'd kill her if she did. I'm not sharing this with anybody.' Our lips came together as she pressed her body into mine and I felt her hand slide between my legs, cup my genitals. Then she whispered those dreaded words. 'I've missed you, Alex. Come on, baby, let's go to bed.’ She checked her watch. ‘Oops! Sorry sweetheart, probably don’t have the time - I have ten, no, eight… seven minutes. Last chance… any takers? It would have to be a real quickie… No?’


Less than ten hours had passed since I'd placed Anna's spunk-and-puke-covered body on that bed, less than four since she'd tickled my stiff cock with her tongue as she sat on the edge of it. Even though I'd changed the bedding and flung the windows open to clear the air, I hadn't vacuumed and dusted in there yet, nor scrubbed the bathroom from top to bottom - all of which were essential parts of my planned clean-up operation. The job was only about half done and I was certain that Gemma would spot something out of place. Sex was the last thing on my mind, but her suspicions would also have been aroused if I’d said no to it, because, when it came to sex, I’d never said no to her before.

'No. I don’t think…’ There was something resembling a miniscule flash of relief in her eyes, but then her lips curled into an incredulous smile that quickly developed shades of petulance. Her reply was throwaway, but contained a hint of an accusation.

‘No? Mmm, maybe Amanda has been paying you a visit… or maybe you got lucky last night?’ I had to think quickly and turn this around before she delved deeper.

‘I meant: no… I want you now. Right here.' My decisiveness caught her breath and her eyes grew wide.
'In the kitchen?’ I nodded. ‘Fuck, I love it when you talk like that,’ but she looked at her watch again. ‘I’m pushing it, but I can make time for this…' She fell to her knees looking into my eyes all the time. The buttons on my jeans were yanked open and she rubbed my cock through my pants, pulled it out and sank it between her soft, full lips. My first thought was, ‘This is fantastic: two women’s mouths around my cock on the same day!’ My second, third, fourth and fifth thoughts were, ‘Fuck, I haven’t washed it since. Has Anna left lipstick on it? Was she wearing lipstick? How about her scent?’ Even after accepting the shocking effect of those contrasting emotions, I was still surprised to see it not fully erect - it usually took only seconds once I got the urge - but I forgot that once she’d peeled her t-shirt over her head and displayed her gorgeous, brown, naked torso. Swallowing was never on the menu with Gemma, but she loved to fellate me and make me cum on her tits. She rarely wore a bra - her beautiful tiny tits were barely big enough to warrant one at all - but her big, dark nipples were a joy to twist and suck. I reached down, pulled both of them and squeezed till she yelled. It dawned on me how similar her nipples were to Anna’s, even though Anna’s firm tits were bigger and more succulent. Between very erotic slurping noises Gemma managed to mumble:
'I looove your cock! Mmm, pre-cum already too – you are glad to see me, aren’t you?' I loved her dark, lithe body, especially the way her willowy, adolescent top half contrasted with her very womanly curvy arse and hips. I grabbed her hair, closed my eyes and pulled her head onto me till she gagged.

‘Oh, Jesus… Cum for me, Alex; you can sort me out later…’

I kept fucking her mouth, totally lost in the sheer pleasure that emanated from the tip of my cock and spread in waves through my belly. After a while, I looked down and was surprised to see Gemma’s dark hair wrapped around my fingers and realised I was imagining Anna going down on me. That unnerved me a little but Gemma’s expert mouth soon had me focussed again. Then I noticed I still wasn't as achingly erect as usual and that's when the doubts hit me. What if I went soft? Would Gemma assume I'd been getting it elsewhere while she'd been away? Would she wonder even more about the 'wrong number'? Maybe even ask to check my phone? I panicked. Erectile uncertainty had never concerned me, but here it was, raising (or not raising) its ugly and very scary head. For the first time in my life, my erection began to fail and the more I struggled for a thought to keep it up, the softer it got. She paused, looked up at me with questioning eyes. This called for drastic action.


Driven by blind fear, I took over, pulled her to her feet and quickly unfastened and yanked down her jeans. Lifting her up by the waist, I plonked her arse on the worktop. Her jeans slipped down her calves and over her feet with a slight struggle then I dived straight in. She had lovely, tiny, white knickers on, with little pink hearts all over them. Between her legs the hearts were darker and I touched her there, gently. She was so wet that the slippery material pushed easily into her crack and I started to fuck her with my fingertips. She threw back her head, screwed up her eyes as the cotton stretched and went up inside her. Her knickers prevented deeper entry and that drove her wild with frustration. I sucked her nipples too till she was gasping, and when she could stand it no more and was begging for my cock to enter her, I had another brilliant idea. I pulled a bread knife from the block behind her and skilfully slipped it between her knickers and her flesh. As the blunt edge of the cold metal touched her skin she gasped with shock and looked down.
'What the...'

I slowly sawed through the sopping, flimsy material of her gusset. Every pass of the knife invoked an aspirated breath from her that rose in intensity and peaked in a scream when the final threads gave way. As I lay down the knife and pulled aside the jagged material, she shuddered in anticipation. Leaning in, I planted my tongue right on her erect clitoris, vaguely aware that she was neatly shaved, not completely shaved as Anna had been.
'You sexy bastard, you fucking dirty... oh, Jesus Christ... I love the way you… no, no don’t lick me – I’m not all that… clean.' Her knees tried to close and her hands tried to pry me away, but I simply had to make her cum with my mouth and didn’t give a fuck how clean she was. Ignoring her weakening protestations, I persevered till she succumbed and slid towards the edge of the worktop. Throwing her legs over my shoulders, she pulled my head into her crotch, yelping like a puppy. God, she was always very vocal during lovemaking, but I didn’t mind at all; indeed I liked to think the neighbours could hear her every orgasmic sound. With the knickers’ resistance destroyed by the knife, two of my fingers slid up her, then three. 'Oh, my God… Do it!' She ordered me and I knew exactly what she wanted. I tucked in my thumb and pushed four fingers inside her, licking her clit all the while.
'Fucking do it... push it right up... ooh, yes... ow... you're hur...ting... me... fist me... fist me! Oh, Al... ex... fuck…ing… hell… aaargh!'
As I punched her cervix, I tried to pump my cock up with my left hand so I’d be ready to enter her if she insisted. I imagined all the things that always worked, but it simply wasn't responding. I figured I was too distracted, too worried, too guilty to get it up. Still, I'd made Gemma cum plenty of times in the past without cumming myself, so she wouldn't be too surprised as long as I could hide my flaccid state – after a session like this, a shrivelled cock would take some explaining. Emitting a deep sigh, she grabbed my hand to stop my movements and slowly drew it from inside her as her orgasm subsided. I stood, kissed her, pulling up and fastening my clothes as I did so. As she descended from her sexual high, she opened her eyes, lapped her juices from my face and her hot, rasping breath hit my lips, reminding me of something... of someone... of Anna, and I remembered I needed to ring her.
'Look at the time! Don’t be late to the gym, babe. Amanda hates…’

‘Oh, Christ… Amanda will be pulling her hair out if I’m late… where’s my stuff?’

Two minutes later she was slamming the door, starting her car and speeding away. I heaved a huge sigh of relief, gave her a few minutes just in case she’d forgotten something then took out my phone.

‘Hi. Anna?’

‘It might be… who’s this?’

‘It’s Alex. You…’

‘Mmm, Alex? What a coincidence.’

‘Coincidence?’

‘Never mind. I know lots of Alexes. Are you the golfing Alex?’

‘No.’

‘Alex the newspaper reporter?’

‘No, I’m…’

‘No, no, let me guess… are you the… Alex who gets a girl drunk… takes her home…’

‘Listen, you were well gone well before…’

‘… then fucks her arse so hard that she can barely walk the next day?’ There was a silent pause. ‘The Alex who, when offered seconds the morning after, turns a naked, willing girl down and goes to work, leaving her randy as fuck?’

‘That’s not fair…’

‘The Alex whose cock is really fat, long and hard and is going to get the best licking it ever had when we meet again?’ I laughed at that. Blushed too. She was very quick, very funny.

‘Ha! Most of that was bang on, yes. Sorry about your call earlier. I was… er…’

‘Yes, I know there was a woman there! You live with someone – there were enough clues in the bathroom and bedroom to tell me quite a lot about her, too. Gemma. Not house-proud. Middle-Eastern origin? Petite, but big arse. Size four shoe. Brown eyes. Shoulder-length dark hair. Small tits… mid twenties I’d say. Pretty, but big nose. On the pill. Professional… career woman. Non smoker, but likes a drink…’

‘Listen, what… what is this? A Study in Scarlet? Elementary, my dear…’

‘No, you don’t need to be Sherlock to work all that out, just a bit nosey. There was a photo of her… and one of her parents, a couple of certificates on the wall, alcopops in the fridge, blisterpack of pills in the bedside cabinet… and a vibrator… Oh, clean the blonde hairs out of the plughole - she’ll need her mechanical friend more than ever if she has to boot you out. The hairs are always a dead giveaway.’

‘Fuck! Thank you! I never…’

‘You’re welcome. A man would never think of that. Mine doesn’t, anyway. Now we’re even. You saved me: I saved you.’

‘Saved you? I…’

‘You did save me. He knows what I can be like when I’ve had a few drinks and I’d have paid dearly if I’d got home blotto and covered in puke. Alicia spun him a yarn, said I stopped at hers - she’s a great sister-in-law and a great friend too. My big, daft bastard of a husband believed every word we told him, thinks he has me so scared and under his thumb that I wouldn’t dare do anything wrong…’

‘Anna, can I ask…is that ‘big, daft bastard’ still Mr Cheetham… Mad Billy Cheetham?’

‘Yeah, Who did you expect? Bruce fucking Willis?’ This was beginning to sound scary. I didn’t imagine she was still married to the ex-army PE teacher who’d made many of our school lives a misery; the guy who, or so it was rumoured, had forced her to quit her job at the school after her affair with an ex-student.

‘Listen: we didn’t do anything wrong, Anna.’

‘Excuse me, but what you and I did was so wrong, Alex. So very wrong. I was ringing to ask when we can do it again.’ Her voice was inherently sexy, but when she spoke like that she was virtually irresistible.

‘Anna, I… I was ringing about lunch. I think we should maybe have lunch for starters, see how it goes. I’m not sure I’m ready for… for… an affair.’

‘See how it goes? Not ready for an affair? Ooh, softly, softly… Bit late for that, sweetheart! You weren’t saying ‘see how it goes’ last night when you were forcing your way into my every orifice… cumming in all of them too if I’m not much mistaken. Yer know, I love the way young men can do that: cum in one hole and then quickly get it up again ready for the next one.’ That caused me a wry smile: this young man had just been unable to get it up even once.

‘You said you couldn’t remember… I thought it was all a blank? What do you think happened?’

‘I remember little bits, but not much… you masturbating in the shower while - I think - gently licking me…. Salty cum hitting the roof of my mouth… I vaguely remember your big cock sliding into me. We simply have to do it again, if only to jog my memory, as it were.’ There was a pause as I considered telling her what had really happened, but I didn’t think she would believe me. ‘Ok, Alex. Lunch will be fine for starters. Then we’ve simply got to go somewhere and fuck our brains out. Any ideas?’

There was a knock at the door, probably the postman at this time of day with another parcel from Ebay. Gemma bought so much stuff on there. I walked down the hall still contemplating possible lunch venues, parrying a couple of her suggestions that were just not on, due to them being among my regular haunts. I opened the door, phone still to my ear.

‘Or I could simply come round when your girlfriend is out and won’t be expected back for some time.’ I heard that in stereo: once in my left ear from the phone and once in my right ear straight from her lovely mouth. ‘Well? Aren’t you going to ask me in before the neighbours start talking?’