"So what is this?" I said.

"Oh, just a meeting, pretty boring, but it'll go on a long time. Maybe even two days. Could be three if it all gets nasty."

"And you're going when?"

"Thursday morning, train at 7.30 am."

"And you don't know when you're back?"

"No, I'll call you. I doubt it'll be till Saturday at the earliest, though."

And then the killer.

"So you'll need to make your own arrangements for Friday night."

Aha, so there we are, I thought. Ordinarily, we went out on a Friday night, had a couple of drinks, went for a meal, had some more drinks and rolled home for some merry fun involving fingers and mouths and rippling, naked flesh. But here was my instruction: to make my own arrangements. Message received and understood.

"I will," I purred, resting my hand on his crotch and stepping behind him, folding myself close to his body and wrapping my arm round his chest. I laid my cheek against his back and smoothed my fingers up and down the outline of his cock, feeling it grow inside his trousers. "Hmmm," I sighed, "I'll miss that on Friday night, though."

"You'll just have to imagine it's there."

"I will do. And you know how good my imagination is."

"Well, maybe if you imagine hard enough you'll make it real."

"What better incentive could a girl want?" My hand was in the waistband of his trousers by now, fingers caressing his erection, thumb rolling gently over his swollen glans. With my left hand, I deftly undid his button and zip and slid his trousers down to his ankles, freeing my right hand to stroke him long and firm. He sighed as I squeezed the base of his shaft and tickled his balls with my nails.

"Now let me show you what you'll be missing," I said, snaking round to his front and dropping to my knees before him. I took his beautiful, brown cock in my hand, the contrast between his skin and mine making my fingers look even more alabaster white than normal, and guided it towards my mouth.

§§§§§§§§

Mark left the following morning for his non-specific meeting of indeterminate length, leaving me to plan my Friday night activities alone. The more I contemplated during the following day and a half the hornier I grew, and as a consequence when it was time to get ready to go out on Friday night I was so randy I had to calm myself with a languid diddle in the shower. And just as they say you should never shop when you're hungry, so selecting an outfit for the evening when you're desperate for sex is not a good idea.

Which was why I entered the Arts Centre Lounge that Friday night in a miniskirt, gleaming, sheer Levante tights, three inch heels I could barely stand in and a blouse plungingly unbuttoned to reveal not only my white La Perla bra but even some of my stomach below.

Which was why I was the centre of attention for the duration of the evening, and why I was awash with drink all night without having to pay for any of it, and why, at closing time I was dancing seductively around the bar, with half a dozen pairs of eyes tracking my every sinuous movement.

Which was why I went home with Jez.

A casual observer may have watched the mating dance which revolved around me that evening and concluded that I was conquered by the sexiest, or the wittiest, or even the most persistent of my suitors, but that would be wrong.

I chose Jez deliberately.

Where Mark was tall, Jez was short. Mark's hair was dark, flecked in a dashingly distinguished manner around his temples with a sprinkling of grey, while Jez's was an impossible tangle of mousey brown, wild, shapeless and almost certainly cut by himself in front of the mirror. Mark's demeanour was smart and authoritative, Jez's slovenly and narcissistic. Mark's skin was sleekly toned and ravishingly brown, while Jez, a night animal whose skin rarely felt the blush of sunlight, was pasty and flabby. And where Mark was a mature man, his experience, beliefs and values etched in his features, Jez was a boy, little more than nineteen, blank and as yet unfashioned by life.

The two were in total contrast. I had procured an ur-Mark.

Small talk seemed pointless, and as I led him through the hall, sliding off my heels and leaving the front door unlocked behind me, I ushered him straight upstairs. It felt, at once, strange and exciting to be in our bedroom with someone else, to be taking advantage of Mark's absence by seducing a new lover, to know that soon I would be writhing on our bed entwined in the arms of another man. I kissed Jez roughly, my face thrusting towards him and our lips attacking one another in savage anticipation. Through my excitement though, like all illicit lovers, I remained alert, listening for sounds - a bang of the front door, a creak on the stair - the passion of the affair heightened by the constant fear of discovery.

Except, of course, I didn't fear discovery.

I craved it.

I pulled his tee shirt over his head and ran my hand across his shallow chest, feeling a few straggly hairs and the outline of his ribcage. We locked once more in a kiss, his tongue darting into my mouth aggressively, running against my teeth and gums. I grabbed his belt and unbuckled it, fumbling with his button and zip, and hauled his trousers down. I stepped back and pushed him hard on the chest, knocking him back onto the bed: I had seen that done in movies and had long wanted to try it. He bounced on the mattress a few times and as he settled I tugged at his jeans, pulling both them and his trainers off in one go. His cock was already rigid beneath his boxer shorts.

There was no light in the room. That wouldn't do at all: I needed to ensure that we could see and be seen. Kneeling on the bed, I reached over Jez and switched on Mark's bedside light, my body trailing provocatively over Jez's face. The movement pulled my blouse from my skirt and Jez slid his hand inside, resting it on my bare skin. I sighed as I felt his soft hands on my waist, sliding upwards along my spine as far as my bra. Mark's bedside light shone on us incriminatingly, revealing my infidelity, flooding it with a steady, knowing light.

Still hovering over him, I traced a kiss down Jez's face, flicking my tongue across his eyes, resting my lips on his nose, his cheek, his chin, as my hand wormed inside his shorts and sought out his cock. Threading it between two buttons, I pulled it through and stood it to attention, and as I moved it emerged from my shadow, his glans solid and gleaming in the warm, shallow light of Mark's lamp. His cock was, as I had anticipated, short and fat, probably fewer than five inches in length but with a satisfyingly chunky girth: it would serve my purposes very well.

I kissed down his body, biting his neck and nipples and lapping at his stomach with my tongue, my hand gripping his cock and wanking it gently. And all the while, as I toyed with Jez, my thoughts were of Mark, of kissing him, of stroking him, of feeling him.

And, more importantly, I wondered if Mark could see what I was doing, wondered if he was here, watching us, silently observing his lover's foreplay with another man.

The thought that he might, the notion that he was secretly watching, sent a ravishing thrill through my body. I extricated Jez's cock from his shorts and stripped him naked, resting my head on his thigh, my lips a centimetre from his balls. I slid my tongue out and rasped it against them, lapping at the coarse hairs.

"Mmm, what a gorgeous cock," I said, for the benefit of Jez and anyone else who might be listening. Jez reacted to the flattery, his cock twitching in front of me, and I wondered - hoped - if I had provoked a similar reaction in anyone else. I gripped his cock in my left hand and licked my tongue up its length, feeling his heat and the rhythmic pulse of his excitement. I bobbed forward and took his glans into my mouth, its wide expanse filling me, and began to suck earnestly, sliding his cock in and out, brushing my lips against him, steadily increasing the stimulation of his rock-hard dick.

I was worried that judging by the amount of quivering from his cock he was about to come - I hadn't even got undressed yet - and held back on my ministrations. As I sat up I looked furtively around the room and out onto the hallway, trying to spot any movement, seeking to establish if there was anybody there - if, that is, Mark was there. It was excruciating, not knowing whether my lover was watching or not, not knowing whether my peformance was being studied, evaluated, enjoyed by him.

"Undress me," I said. "I want to be naked when I fuck you. I don't want anything in the way when you put your cock in me." I was shouting now, in my excitement. "Come on, take my clothes off. Strip me, lover boy."

I lay on my bed - our bed - as my young conquest fumbled with the buttons of my blouse. Raising first one shoulder then the other, I helped him to peel it from me then bent towards him, squeezing his cock again as he reached behind to unhook my bra. Falling back on the bed, I allowed him to ease the bra from me and I lay back, enjoying his admiring looks. My nipples were already hard, pointing my desire towards him. Oh Mark, I thought, are you watching? Can you see your lover being stripped, can you see her body being revealed, given up to this stranger on your own bed?

Jez tried to kiss my breasts, but I patted his head away and bucked my hips impatiently. "Strip me," I repeated. "I want you to see my cunt." Or rather, I thought to myself, I want Mark to see you see my cunt. Jez located the button and zip and eased my mini skirt over my hips and down to my knees. I raised my legs as he pulled the skirt from me, then I leaned further back, allowing him to grip my tights and ease them over my backside. He slithered them down my legs and peeled them from my feet, and I lay, naked, before him. I had no way of knowing whether Mark was observing or not, but I continued to perform in the hope he was. Raising my knees, I parted my legs, showing myself completely.

"Do you like what you see?" I said, to either or both of them. Neither replied, and I took that as tacit concurrence. Jez was crouched beside me, seemingly dazzled by the sight of my body. I smiled.

"Lick me," I said. "Get between my legs. Lick my cunt. Let me feel your tongue." Jez immediately positioned himself between my thighs and lowered his head towards me. I grabbed his hair and twisted his head to the side, until his mouth was on my thigh. He took the hint and began to kiss up and down the soft skin of my inner thigh, his long hair flopping onto my stomach and tickling my pussy. "That's it, lover boy," I said, "keep kissing, keep kissing. Higher, higher now, that's it. I can feel your breath against me, nice 3; Oh, yes, lover boy. Now kiss my bush, that's it, kiss it, kiss it." I locked my thighs against his head, pinning him into place as his tongue hovered above my pussy, exploring the trimmed hair of my bush. I continued my commentary for the benefit, I fervently hoped, of my hidden lover. Could he hear? Could he see? Please, yes.

I forced Jez to nuzzle my bush for a couple of minutes while I tweaked my left nipple, rolling it round and round, scratching my nail across the areola, eliciting flickers of pain and tremors of pleasure. All the while my mind was on Mark, imagining it was he who was between my legs, his mouth which was hovering above my soaked pussy.

"Now lick me properly," I said, releasing Jez's head from my grip and pushing him down towards my slit. I felt his tongue slither against me, sliding down my lips and slipping between them. I was sodden, the ambiguity of the event, the uncertainty over whether I was being observed adding a frisson of tension to the already highly charged atmosphere. A spear of anticipatory excitiment burst through my body, causing me to tense and buck. Jez stopped for a second and I pushed him hard against me again.

"Lick, Jez, lick me. Let me feel your tongue. Run it up my lips. That's it, that's it, God yes. And push inside. Push your tongue inside me. In. In. Yes, that's it." My commentary was over the top, of course, but it wasn't for Jez's benefit, or mine, but for my lover's, my hidden lover's.

"Suck. Suck my lip. Take it into your mouth. Aah, yes, like that." I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes, letting the physical sensations wash over me, focussing my mind, concentrating on Mark, seeing his face, his eyes, his mouth; feeling his touch, remembering his tongue inside me as Jez's was now; smelling him, hearing him.

"My clit," I shouted, "lick it, lick it, Jez. Lick my clitoris. Up a bit, yes there, lick now." Waves of electric excitement crashed through my body, sweeping up everything in their wake, bursting over my senses, cascading across my emotions, swirling through my brain. I parted my legs further and bucked, raising my hips and lifting my bum clear of the bed. "God, suck, suck me now!"

I looked into the gloom, trying to connect with Mark as Jez connected with me. His tongue lashed my clitoris as he hoovered it into his mouth and I screamed in frenzy, not just because of the sensations he was drawing from me but because of the impression I knew our performance would make on Mark. Would he have his cock out now? Was he hard? Was he turned on by watching his love in the throes of passion, on the verge of climax?

Mark, Mark, Mark 3;

"Jez, Jez, yes, yes, yes!" My voice tailed off into a scream as Jez sucked hard, provoking a juddering climax. It exploded in my womb, rumbling and rolling down my thighs and up into my stomach, lancing down to my feet and into my hands, into each finger, electrifying them, making it seem as though every nerve ending in my entire body were being tickled, tormented, triggered simultaneously.

"Oh Christ, Jez," I panted as the climax subsided and was replaced by a seething, sweltering heat throughout my body, "Christ, that was good. You've got to fuck me now. I need that cock inside me." I had never been a particularly talkative lovemaker, and I had to admit my running commentary for Mark was adding to my enjoyment. Somehow it seemed more graphic, more intense, more real when I shouted my desire for my hidden lover to hear. I wanted him to know what I was thinking and what was happening. My body was in thrall to Jez, but my mind was given to Mark and as I came it was his face I saw.

"Fuck me," I repeated, twisting on the bed. Jez shuffled towards me, his cock edging towards my soaked pussy. "No, not like that," I shouted. "Doggy style. Take me from behind. Mount me, fuck me, take me."

I turned on to my knees and gripped the bedframe, spreading my legs and raising my arse to Jez. This was important: I wanted Mark to see the moment when I was penetrated.

"Slowly, come to me slowly. Guide your cock towards me, yes that's it. Run it up and down my slit. Yes, yes, that's it. Push, slowly, slowly, yes, that's it. Now stay." I was in heaven. I could feel the very tip of Jez's cock parting my lips, pushing for entrance, pulsing in anticipation, the slenderest of connections between us, and I knew that if my lover was watching he would have a perfect view. I pressed backwards slowly, evenly, steadily, and gradually speared myself on Jez's cock, feeling it slide past my lips and into my cunt millimetre by millimetre until he was inside me, until I had accepted his entire length, until he filled me with his cock.

"Oh yes," I sighed. I bowed my head and pictured Mark. I pictured his naked body, so perfectly brown, his dark eyes, mysterious and mischievous at the same time in the way that only Asian eyes can be, his six foot frame and lean body and his cock, longer, more slender, more beautiful than Jez's, and I imagined, dreamed, wished that it was inside me. As Jez fucked me I thought of Mark, and I pictured Mark making love to me as Jez watched, and I wondered what Jez would think. Would he enjoy seeing my lover and me in a passionate embrace? Would he applaud, would he want to join us?

Jez began to fuck me, slowly at first, his body rippling against mine, thighs hot against me, and then he pistoned faster and faster, his balls swinging, slapping my skin as he slid in and out of my pussy. I pictured myself as Mark must see me, on all fours on the bed, breasts swinging beneath me as Jez pounded into me from behind. I was helpless: the physical sensations brought on by Jez's skilled fucking left me breathless, while my imagination was stretched to assimilate the mind games in which Mark was forcing me to indulge. I was in a trance, one where my body and mind were in tumult, where physical experiences seemed to lodge in my brain and my thoughts were transformed into palpable sensations. Jez and Mark, Mark and Jez, one in my head and the other in my cunt, but which was which and who was whom?

Resting my head on the pillow and arcing my back, I thrust my arse out and up, opening myself more to Jez, exposing myself completely to his look and touch. It felt deliciously wicked, stretched like that in front of him, defenceless and vulnerable. His hand rested on my arse cheek, palm rolling across it sensuously, and his thumb ran up and down my crack, alighting on my exposed and spasming arsehole.

"Yes," I breathed into the pillow, "yes, yes."

He pressed, and I knew I wanted this more than anything in the world. I wanted Mark to watch, and I wanted Mark to know, as a stranger's hand penetrated his lover's rear.

"Wet your thumb," I shouted. "Wet it. Now press. Press hard. Against my arse. Come on, do it. Do it Jez! That's it. Now push it in. In. In." I writhed beneath him, pushing my backside up towards his invading thumb, feeling it slither and slide past my protesting sphincter muscles and into my rear.

"Oh yes, that's it, you're inside me. Go deeper, deeper. Fuck me, keep fucking me, Jez." I was almost beside myself now, the groundswell of emotions, mental and physical, threatening to overwhelm me. I imagined Mark, saw his cock in front of me, took it into my mouth and sucked it, sucked it, sucked as hard and as fast as I could, bringing him to the brink. I imagined him bucking beneath me as his climax approached and I hoped, more than I had ever wished for anything, that wherever he was in reality, my performance was similarly about to bring about his satisfaction.

Behind me, Jez's long strokes had shortened and quickened, and his thumb, exploring my arse, was wriggling with a rapidity and lack of control which suggested that he, too, was on the verge of exploding. I reached down and felt for my clit and in that instant the massed stimuli - of clitoris, cunt, arse and mind - proved too great and I shreiked into my second tumultuous orgasm of the session. I looked out into the dark of the landing as the sensations coarsed through my veins and scorched my brain, praying that Mark was there and that he was watching as my body submitted to the joys of Jez and my mind to the love of him. Jez tensed and stopped, groaning and calling my name, then pushed hard into me and I felt him come, hot and hard. He thrust into me repeatedly, short and fast, short and fast, as he spent his seed inside me, before finally slowing and coming to a halt. I screamed and lay on the bed, shattered.

§§§§§§§§

We lay, Mark and I, an hour later, in a bed still hot with the passion of another man, and caressed one another. Mark was huge in my hand, his cock harder and more erect than I had ever known.

"Did you see?"

"Everything."

"And did you hear?"

"Everything."

"And did you like?"

"Everything."

"And do you want?"

"Everything."

"Make love to me, Mark, please."