The Arrangement Pt. 03


Author’s note: This is one of those stories, where it will make a great deal more sense if you read Parts 1 she was watching the screen intently.

The scene then changed to us all on the floor, and Pam lowering herself down onto my cock, with a lovely shot of her anus, as my cock went into her pussy. I’d had to cut quite a bit out up to this point, because Mandy had shaken the camera too much. So, there was a jump-cut to where Pam was bouncing up and down, and then — the squirt sequence! I had slowed this down in the edit to about 20% of the original speed, so you could clearly see the jet of fluid coming out of Pam’s cunt and spraying all over me.

Mandy was just about to speak, when the video went back a few seconds, then played the squirt sequence again, this time at 10%.

When I’d been editing, I had anticipated them both asking me to rewind it at that point.

“Oh my god,” she said, staring at the screen. “That’s amazing!”

I’d then added in a little slide show of Pam standing there holding the tray of drinks, just wearing her stockings. She looked so very, very desirable, a mature woman in her prime.

The film then switched to the bedroom scene, with me fucking Mandy. Pam had captured some lovely close-ups of my cock sliding in and out of her pussy, which the real Mandy, next to me, watched wide-eyed.

“We look pretty damned sexy, don’t we?” I asked her.

“Mmm, it’s hot,” she agreed. “I love the way my lips hold onto your cock as it goes in and out.”

The camerawork got a bit wobbly while Pam was working the vibe over Mandy’s clit, which was understandable, though it still gave a nice amateur feel to it. But all credit to Pam, when Mandy started orgasming, she had thought to swing the camera round to capture her writhing body, and the expression on her face.

“Oh my god, is that what I look like when I come?” Mandy asked, incredulous.

“Uh huh,” I replied. “I have the pleasure of seeing you like that whenever we have a really good session.” I squeezed her jean-clad thigh and smiled at her.

The shot then went to a close-up of my cock slipping out of her pussy, followed by a trickle of white cum. It seemed slightly surreal, seeing our own bodies in micro-detail like that in full HD on a large TV.

The scene then switched to a different angle, where I had taken over the camera, and it showed Pam taking my cock into her mouth and sucking and licking it.

But it was the next scene I was anticipating most eagerly. Or should I say, to which I was most eagerly anticipating seeing Mandy’s reaction.

Mandy watched in silence as the screen replayed Pam fervently licking her pussy and clit. I watched her reaction as Pam introduced her fingers into her pussy and started pumping them in and out.

Mandy shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. I could see her biting her bottom lip and imagined that she was re-living what she could see on the screen.

Mandy was then able to watch Pam pushing her four fingers into her pussy. Luckily, the camera had recorded her saying, “Lick me again, lick my clit,” with the video showing Pam obligingly doing exactly that.

But the real climax to the film, was when Pam shoved her entire hand inside Mandy’s wanton cunt and started thrusting it in and out, with her fist clenched.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I did that,” Mandy murmured, transfixed.

The scene finished with Pam thumbing Mandy’s clit and her final, incredible orgasm.

The film closed with a still of the three of us on the bed, laughing, with our glasses raised, and faded to black.

The TV returned to the File Select page. I turned to Mandy, really expecting her to start ripping her clothes off and insisting that I fuck her, right then and there.

“So… what did you think, then?” I asked.

She paused for a few moments before replying. “To be honest, I’m not sure what to think. I don’t know whether I should feel really excited and turned on, or… acutely embarrassed for acting like a complete slut!”

“Would it help if I told you what I saw?” I asked.

“Go on.”

“What I saw was a very attractive young woman, in her womanly prime, having a mind-blowing sexual experience. I thought you looked absolutely amazing,” I said, trying to reassure her.

“Phew, it’s a lot to take in. That night was just a blur of memories. isveçbahis yeni giriş The video made it, somehow real. Crystallised it. Like it really did happen, not just like some dream sequence in your memory. D’you know what I mean?”

Mandy looked a little flustered. Then she got up and went to the kitchen. I heard the fridge open, and a bottle cap being unscrewed. A minute or two later, Mandy returned, but with no glass in her hand. I assumed she must have just necked it. Which was kind of understandable.

I got in first. “Darling, can I just remind you, without putting too fine a point on it, that you did actually instigate all this? Please don’t look at me like I’m the bad guy, eh?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Maybe the video wasn’t such a great idea. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve done a great job on it. It would make a brilliant porn film… far better than most of the stuff out there! But do NOT get any ideas about uploading it!” she warned, quite serious, wagging her finger at me.

We sat quietly for a couple of minutes, then she suddenly said something quite unexpected.

“Do you mind if I take a copy of this round to Pam’s, and see what she thinks of it?”

I was taken aback a bit. A lot, in fact. I had assumed the three of us would watch it together, get really turned on, then engage in an even more debauched threesome. This wasn’t what I’d anticipated.

“Oh,” I said, trying not to sound as disappointed as I felt. “I thought that’s something we could all do together one night. Can’t we save it for then? I’ve been looking forward to seeing Pam’s reaction, to be honest.”

She sat looking at her hands for a few moments before replying.

“I think I’m just a bit confused at the moment. That film actually came as a bit of a shock. It was like it was someone else in it, not me. I can’t believe how I looked when I was having an orgasm!

“I’ll be alright, I just need to get my head sorted. So, you don’t think I’m a slut, then?” she asked, turning to look at me.

“No, darling,” I assured her. “You are a loving wife and mother, who has the ability to behave like a slut sometimes. There is a big difference.”

“Thanks Alan. I’ll be fine. But would you mind getting the DVD please?”

I fetched the disk and handed it to her. Just before she left, I said, “Mandy, I hope you’re not angry with me? Because that wouldn’t be very fair. I only did what you asked me to, under some duress, I might add.”

“I know,” she said. “If anything, I’m angry at myself for letting it all go too far.”

With that, Mandy headed off round next door. I unplugged the USB drive and turned the TV off. I was in no mood for more television, so I put some low music on, before going to the kitchen to retrieve the rest of the bottle of wine that Mandy had opened.

I was feeling, frankly, completely gutted. I was really disappointed at Mandy’s reaction, but as the evening wore on, and as I got a few glasses of wine in me, I was really kicking myself for sharing the video with Mandy on her own. Damn. I wished I could wind the clock back and have all three of us watch it together. I just knew the outcome would have been totally, completely different.

To crown it all, I’d been looking forward to a bloody good fucking session with an uninhibited and sex-crazed Mandy tonight. By the time I opened the second bottle of Shiraz, I wasn’t in the most amenable frame of mind. At one point, I was tempted to go round next door and… and… I didn’t know what. Forget it, it wouldn’t have ended well anyway.

I had drunken and depressive visions of endless arguments and our marriage on the rocks and concluded that this whole thing had been a really fucking stupid idea. Fuck it.

Sometime later, I could feel my eyes drooping, and rather than falling asleep on the sofa… yes, the same sofa, that only a couple of weeks before, Pam’s cunt juice had been spilling over… that bloody sofa. Fuck it, I decided to go to bed. I turned the music off and stomped upstairs.

I was in a deep, alcohol-induced sleep when I felt Mandy getting into bed and was comforted somewhat when she cuddled up to my back. She started talking in a low voice, but I really only registered a few phrases like “not over” and “just cool it for a bit”, none of which made any coherent sense.

I woke up the next isveçbahis giriş morning with a sore head. A proper red wine hangover. Mandy and I didn’t speak much. We just went about our normal Sunday domestic routine and completely avoided the subject which we both really needed to talk about.

Time passed. I went to work. Mandy worked. The kids went to school. There were occasions when I encountered Pam briefly, like it always used to be. A quick “Hello” from the front garden. To be fair, her smile was warm, her demeanour far from dismissive, so I could at least conclude that she wasn’t being ‘cold’. Which was more than I could say for Mandy. Our sex life had gone from ‘very little’ to ‘nil’.

At least ‘before Pam’, we used to have sex sometimes. Now, our planets just never seemed to line up. It felt like we were walking a tightrope at times. Something needed to give.

Then one evening, something happened which really brought this fact home to me. I had just got home from work and could hear the shower going in the bathroom. Mandy was obviously getting ready to work her night shift.

I thought I might as well go up and say hello. By the time I got to the bathroom door, the shower had been switched off. I tried the door handle and the door swung open. She hadn’t bothered locking it. Sure enough, Mandy was in there, towelling herself dry, one foot up on the edge of the bath, with her back towards me, her damp hair hanging down her back.

I was treated to a lovely view of her bottom, tautened by the position she was in, and got a glimpse of her pussy lips between her legs. I immediately felt aroused and really wanted to just fuck her, right there as she was.

“Hi sweetie,” I said.

“Oh, hi, how was your day?” she replied, as she continued drying between her toes, hardly looking round. “Dinner is in the slow cooker,” she added.

“I’d much rather munch on you,” I said, trying my best to sound seductive. As I said that, I slid a finger between her legs and slid it straight between her pussy lips. I was rewarded to find that she was soaking wet. Not, I might add, the kind of wetness from being in the shower. She was slick with her own juices, her pussy opening enlarged as if right ready for penetration.

“Oh, fuck, you are so wet!” I breathed. “Can we please just have a quickie before you go?” Given her obvious state of arousal, I fully expected her to acquiesce, and allow me to stick my cock in her.

She put her foot back on the floor and turned around, disengaging my finger out of her pussy. “No, we can’t. I’ve got to go to work, and I haven’t got time,” she said, quite abruptly.

I checked my watch and had another go. “Oh, come on, Mandy. It wouldn’t make you late.”

“I’m not really in the mood,” she replied. “And besides, I don’t want to spend the whole night with that dripping out of me. I’ve just showered.”

“You could have fooled me,” I said, starting to get irritated, and unable to be confrontational. “You’re sopping wet, so I think you’ll be doing enough dripping all on your own!”

“Well what d’you expect?” she retorted. “I’ve just got out of the shower. Now I need to get ready.”

I knew that had nothing to do with what was going on between her legs. Maybe she’d used the jet from the shower head to make herself come while she was in the shower? She had always had a bit of a liking for that. Maybe that was it, I’d caught her just after masturbating, and she was embarrassed.

With that, she started pulling on some very un-sexy work knickers and tights. Which completely killed any passion on my part. I left the bathroom and went downstairs, feeling thoroughly rejected — and sexually frustrated. She went off to work with a curt “See you in the morning.”

During this time, I often looked at the video, and that evening was no exception. But the image that I was continually drawn to, was the photo of Pam standing there, smiling, holding the tray of drinks, wearing nothing other than her black hold-up stockings. This wasn’t wanking fodder. It wasn’t just sexual. I somehow felt deeply drawn to her, and I didn’t really understand why. I was even beginning to wonder, if in some strange way, I had fallen in love with her.

One evening, my thoughts crystallised into rationality, and everything became clear. The simple truth was, that I deeply fancied isveçbahis güvenilirmi this woman. I was in lust. Wanted her, above all else. Like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to her unbridled, naïve and yet uninhibited sexuality. Although inexperienced, she was the kind of woman, whom you could ask to do the kinds of things you could never ask of your wife. No recriminations, no judgements, just the present moment.

I resolved that I simply had to see her again. I was unable to simply forget about her. The images of our encounters were too deeply ingrained in my memory.

Tomorrow was Friday. Mandy would be working. It was time to sort this out. Decision made.

Friday, 8.30pm. I had kissed Mandy on the cheek as she went off to work. The kids were in bed. I had a quick shower and pulled on some clean clothes.

A few minutes later, I was on Pam’s doorstep, clutching a bottle of chilled Chablis. I knocked gently.

The door opened, and Pam’s face peered round it, her body shielded by the door.

“Oh, Alan, it’s you! Sorry, I had no idea who’d be knocking at this time.”

She opened the door wider.

“Come in, come in!”

I stepped inside and pushed the door closed behind me, then took a proper look at Pam. She obviously wasn’t expecting visitors, as she had no make-up on, and was wearing a long, baggy pink T-shirt, with the logo ‘I Hate Mondays’ on it. It reached about halfway down her thighs. Her breasts filled it out beautifully, with her nipples just protruding through the material. But her eyes sparkled with her smile.

In short, she looked fucking gorgeous. And in that instant, I wanted her. Totally, completely.

“That’s good,” I said, pointing at her shirt, grinning. I added, “It’s Friday.” She looked down at the writing and laughed.

I strode the one step between us, hauled her into my arms — and mashed my mouth into hers. There was no consent on her part. A second later, my tongue was probing between her lips, exploring her mouth, and her body went limp.

Disengaging from her mouth for a second, I hissed in her ear, “I fucking want you!” and bit into her neck, before mouthing her earlobe. She melted into my arms and sighed, curving her upper body backwards. I almost dropped the bottle of wine, so I simply placed it on the floor before we staggered clumsily towards her sofa.

My hands were all over her. Her breasts, her arse, her legs, and finally, her pussy. She was naked under the t-shirt, and my fingers soon discovered her heat, and warmth and wetness. And Pamela was like a plaything in my hands, utterly compliant and willing.

I had never known a burning desire like this. I wanted to touch every inch of my body, to every inch of hers, to possess her completely, to fuse our beings together.

We didn’t make it to her sofa. Nor did we sample the wine. She led me, by the hand, up the stairs, to her bedroom, whereupon we fell onto her bed, rolling and tumbling into each other. At some point, my clothes and her shirt were discarded, and we made love with the greatest, unbridled passion.

Licking, sucking, kissing, fondling, touching, we joined together in a blur, our lovemaking intense beyond imagination, and eventually I spilled myself inside of her, and she gently sobbed, her head on my shoulder, our bodies intertwined.

We slept like lovers for maybe an hour. I stirred awake and glanced at my watch.

“I should go home,” I whispered to her. I wanted nothing more than to stay with her, but, with a heavy heart, I kissed her and left her bed, dressed and slipped ‘home’, leaving her to sleep peacefully.

When I returned to our marital bed, it felt cold and empty. Proper sleep eluded me, as I dreamt of Pamela, the soft warmth of her body and the heat of her passion.

I was still asleep when Mandy clambered into bed early the following morning. When I finally arose, she was comatose. I wasn’t sorry. I didn’t want conversation and needed time on my own to reflect.

As I brewed tea, I pondered. Did I feel guilty? Honestly, not really. It was Mandy who had unleashed the beast in Pamela, and who had, unwittingly, set in process a chain of events which now seemed unstoppable. On reflection though, I started to feel that to an extent, I’d broken my promise to Mandy. After all, I had agreed that it would only be sex, with no intimacy or kissing. I’d also agreed that I wouldn’t see Pam without Mandy being there.

The real problem was that I was finding Pam irresistible. Our lovemaking the night before had been incredibly intense and passionate, and I couldn’t wait to repeat it, regardless of the consequences.

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