If you don't know Audrey and Lawrence, I'll give you a bit of an overview: he's an older man, she's a younger woman; he's married, she's his mistress; he's a librarian, she sees herself as a bit of a femme fatale. They star in 12 erotic adultery tales of varying lengths, all of which appear in the Audrey & Lawrence collection.
The following is a break-up story, but, as many of us know, a break-up doesn't necessarily spell the end...
Breaking Up From Behind
Somehow, it was easy. We’d had our break-ups in the past, and they were always tortured, so I figured this one would be the same. It wasn’t. I expected tears from him, tears from me, and then the shouting and the melodrama, but no. As I said, it was easy.
“We can’t keep doing this,” I said simply. “I can’t.”
“It’s not fair to you,” he agreed.
“It isn’t real. You say it is, but it isn’t. There’s no real world validity to this relationship. As long as you’re married, we can never be together the way I’d like.”
“And I’ll always be married,” he said.
“But never to me.”
The key to a successful break-up, I realized, was in both parties coming to terms with the end of the relationship before sitting down to have the conversation. We’d both reached our respective terminus points, and we were both ready to say goodbye. That’s what made it easy.
“Before you leave,” I said, sitting on my bed. What percentage of our relationship had been spent in a bed? It was ridiculous, when I reflected on it. I focused on his outstretched hand, wondering how to ask the question to ensure a positive response. “I think it would be nice to try any of those sexual things we’ve never done before. We might not get another chance for a time…”
“What sexual things?” he asked, always the innocent.
I don’t know why I felt embarrassed saying it. “I’ve always wondered about anal.”
Was it really so taboo? No, it wasn’t. Not anymore. And yet, Lawrence shook his head side to side and said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
The familiar desire of the femme fatale coursed through my veins, and I saw an image of myself grabbing him and screaming, You’re going to fuck my ass and you’re going to like it!
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“Not a good idea?” I asked simply.
“I’m afraid I might hurt you,” he replied, all concern. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
When he placed his hand on my thigh, I ground my teeth together. There was something in his tone that made me feel like he was talking to a child. Nothing angered me more, and this tone of his made me all the happier he would be leaving soon. At the same time, I was all the more driven to achieve my goal prior to his departure.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking of,” I chuckled. “How could you hurt me? It’s just sex.”
“No, it’s different,” he explained without explaining. He seemed to search his mind for the proper words. “It’s not the same as vaginal sex.”
Lawrence’s use of clinical terminology made me feel like a patient rather than a lover. As much as I tried to push her deep down inside me, my inner femme fatale came surging forth. Taking Lawrence by the shoulders, she pinned him on the bed and kissed his puzzled lips. I realized I was the one provoking this action, but it seemed somehow outside me. Certainly, I didn’t want to act that way. It seemed almost as though I had no say in the matter as the seductive woman who was me stripped off his clothing and sucked his cock. That, he wouldn’t have complained about in a million years. In no time, he was hard as a twenty-year-old boy and I couldn’t wait to get his cock in my ass... whether he liked it or not.
Reaching into my night table, I pulling out heavy-duty lube, a condom, and a vibrator for the enjoyment of my lovely little clit. When I tore out of my silk negligee, Lawrence’s eyes glazed over. Good. He was more malleable in that state. I hopped on top of him and straight away sunk my wet pussy down on his cock. He groaned, rolling his head back and forth on the bed. That cock was a good size after I’d sucked it, and I was half tempted to ride it into the sunset. But no. I had to stick to the plan.
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“What’s that?” he asked, his body stiffening. He chuckled nervously and said, “You don’t trust me anymore?”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever trusted him. In any case, the condom wasn’t about trust. “Don’t get your panties in a wad. I just don’t want you filling my ass with jizz.”
Lawrence made a face. “Oh, I wish you wouldn’t use words like that.”
“What, jizz or ass?”
“Either.” He watched with budding curiosity as I slathered his cockhead with lube. “What are you doing?”
I didn’t really answer the question. I only said, “You could help me out, you know.”
He didn’t react negatively. He didn’t react at all, so I pumped a good lot of lube on his fingers and placed them right between my cheeks. When I set the vibe flush against my clit, my whole body seized at the sensation. Lawrence tickled my asshole, dripping lube all over as I writhed against the vibe.
“I love how happy that makes you,” he said, easing a finger up into my hole. My assring locked on him as I slide the vibe across my hot little bud. As I rode his finger, I reached backwards to pump his cock. While I was at it, I gave his balls a taste of the vibe and watched him melt into a puddle of lust. I wanted his meat good and sturdy, because I could tell my ass was ready to take it in.
Getting a good grip on Lawrence’s shaft, I eased myself lower until his sheathed cockhead pressed right up against my asshole. When I looked down into his expectant eyes, every muscle in my body tightened. Merde! I didn’t want to prove him right. I didn’t want it to hurt, but I knew that meant loosening up. As much as he seemed to enjoy my vibe, I needed it back. When I tapped its buzzing tip against my clit, it felt like a bolt of lightning running straight through me. My ass opened like a flower and I thrust my clit against my vibrating vixen before I even realized that I had his whole cockhead inside me.
“See?” I said like a silly child. “I told you it wouldn’t hurt.”
Lawrence grinned. Propping himself up on one elbow, he leaned forward to grab my tits. I growled at the pleasure of it, letting his cock pop out of my ass, then lowering myself back down on it. It should have been easier, or at least easy, but no. I felt my hole open up to let him in, stretching wide, causing a pain I couldn't acknowledge. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of being right.
His tip mushroomed inside me. It felt huge as I urged my body down, toward his thighs. The strain caused my heart to race until I’d swallowed his cock completely, and then I felt like the best thing to do was pop it out and swallow it all over again. I must have been an idiot. Fucking him with my ass never got any easier.
When he rolled my nipple between his thumb and index finger, I stroked my clit even harder with the vibe and started—very slowly—to ride his cock. As I rocked my ass, letting him get deeper inside me, I realized shallow was better.
Popping him out one last time, I took in only the tip. I wanted to scream, but I bit my lip, buried the sting.
When his cock was in my ass for good, I pressed the vibe down in my pussy, right next to my clit. I just held it there. I didn’t have to move, except to grab the breast Lawrence wasn’t squeezing. My muscles did all the work. Pressure built inside me as my ass and pussy muscles all spasmed. The vibrations shook my thighs and down to my toes, then up my belly and into neck. My intensely focused pleasure simmered as I held that pose, vibe on clit, hand on tit, cock in ass, until it boiled over all at once and I jumped away from everything.
I sprang from Lawrence lap, curling up in fetal position with my thighs wrapped around my toy.
Really, it was all about the vibrations. Everything else was peripheral. Even Lawrence himself was secondary, I realized. I could get off without him. All I needed was a sex store gadget and two AA batteries. That’s when it hit me full-on that I could have a perfectly satisfying sex life without Lawrence. The thought made me a little sad, but mostly, it was freeing.
I held my vibe against my clit, rocking my hips to get off on it again and again. Ah putain de merde, ça fait du bon! Donne-le-moi, donne-le-moi, donne-le-moi! Lawrence must have thought I was having a seizure or something, because he tried to put his arms around me. Non, va t’ens! I kicked him away until I couldn’t feel even the heat of his body behind me anymore. As I stroked on my toy, I had to close my eyes. The sensation was so mind-blowing I was sure my eyeballs would pop out of their sockets if I kept them open.
Flipping onto my back, I lifted my hips to the sky and scoured my clit with the vibe as fast as my hand would let me. Calisse de Crisse, donne-le-moi! My whole body hopped against the mattress. I couldn’t keep quiet. I just kept, writhing, rubbing with both hands on the sex toy, shouting and cursing, Tabernac, ça me plait. Tabernac!
I couldn’t bear it any longer. I couldn’t take any more. The vibe fell from my hands, landing beside me on the bed. I lay there listening to the toy’s bee-like hum until my muscles stopped trying to jump out of my skin. When I reached around to turn it off, it occurred to me that something was missing.
I opened my eyes, but he wasn’t in bed. He’d gone from the room. I considered exploring the rest of my apartment, but I knew it would be a good five minutes before my legs returned to good working order. And, anyway, I’d thrown his clothes on the floor when I stripped him, and they weren’t there anymore.
He was gone. Yes, he must have left; his copy of my apartment key was sitting on my night table. He was gone for good.
I didn’t try moving. Why bother? There was no man’s chest to cuddle against, no man’s fingers to catch in my hair, no man to shower with accolades. Oh, baby, that was incredible. You, my darling man, are the biggest, the best, the sexiest, most potent lover ever to grace my bedroom with his presence! I hope we will be together throughout eternity.
It was all such utter bullshit.
Tunnelling beneath my covers, I stretched my body out in the bountiful land of my bed. I guess I hadn’t realized just how ready I was for Lawrence to go, but it felt good to have my life to myself. With him gone, I could breathe new air. I wasn’t trapped in the garb of the seductress I’d always worn with him. It was fun to dress up in that persona when I was younger, but the act had gotten old and the femme fatale costume was tearing at the seams.
I had my vibrator. I’d be fine on my own.
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