Part One Hundred And Fifty One
When John and George got into John's car and roared away, they both knew that they were heading straight for George's house, and straight for her bed, if they could last that long. "I do enjoy seeing you put him thoroughly in his place," George said with satisfaction. "From what I heard before I appeared," commented John. "It sounded as though you were doing perfectly well on your own. Is what you said to him really true?" "What, that he didn't give me an orgasm in the whole time I was with him? Well, I'd say that was for me to know, wouldn't you?" "So you won't just satisfy my curiosity?" "No, I won't. Just forget about Neil. I wish this car could drive itself," She said, her voice dropping to a seductive suggestiveness as she laid a hand on his thigh. Trying to decide which was the lesser evil, being done for screwing George in his car at the side of the road, or internally combusting with sexual frustration, he gently removed her hand and said, "Well, as this car won't drive itself, please don't do things like that whilst I'm driving." "I do like it when you're masterful," She said wickedly, taking his hand that was casually resting on the gear stick and leading it to her breast. "Are you trying to drive me mad?" He asked, though giving in to her request to be touched. "Of course," She replied lasciviously. "I thought you'd have known by now that it's one of my missions in life, to make you give into my every whim." John laughed. "Undo your skirt," He said. "There are far better things I could be doing, which are less likely to get me done for touching you in public." Bowing to his suggestion, George unfastened the button and zip at the back of her skirt. This enabled John to move his hand under the waistband, and to push aside the pitifully tiny scrap of silk and lace she called underwear. When she felt his finger and thumb gently seek out that perpetually warm and silky place between her legs, she stretched them out slightly to give him better access. With his left hand otherwise engaged and his right firmly on the steering wheel, George had to change gear for him whenever he asked her too. "So," She said, trying to keep her voice under control. "That's why you always drive with one hand." "Of course," He said with a grin. "It just involves a little more concentration, that's all." Her hand was back on his thigh, but higher up this time. Having John do this to her whilst he was also driving, was giving her a feeling of supreme naughtiness, and a distinct hope that they wouldn't get caught. She writhed occasionally against his wandering fingers, and he could feel just how much she was enjoying this. Her hand was moving on the outside of his trousers now, coaxing him to full hardness and no longer receiving any protest from him. When he pulled up somewhat haphazardly in her driveway, they were out of the car and standing at her front door as if of one mind. Holding her skirt up with one hand and ferreting for her keys with the other, George smirked at the bulge in John's trousers, which presented far more damning evidence than her dishevelled state. As soon as the front door was open, they were inside, the door was shut and their hands were back on each other, this time determined to remove their clothing as quickly as possible. "I need you," John said as they moved erratically towards the stairs. "And I can't wait as long as it would take to get up there," George said as he unsnapped her bra. They ended up on the floor in the lounge, between the sofa and coffee table, thankfully screened from the bay window by the open lounge door. No initial touching was necessary, as this had been thoroughly accomplished in the car. When John sank his length deep inside her, George knew that this was what made her the woman she was. No matter how much she loved what she had and what she did with Karen, George knew that this type of straight, glorious, almost primeval fucking was what she would always come back to. When John felt her internal muscles squeezing him, he almost lost control there and then. "If you want me to last much longer," He said through gritted teeth. "Then don't do that." "I don't care," George said, and John could tell by her voice that she was as close as he was. As he thrust again and again in to her, he knew that no woman he'd ever slept with, not Karen, not Francesca Rochester, not even Jo, had ever been able to sexually ignite him with as much passion as George. As his movements became faster and more erratic, she clung to him, urging them both on to more frantic gasps of ecstasy. When they simultaneously came, George wasn't the only one to cry out. They had both sincerely enjoyed being part of the performance of The Creation, but the immense adrenaline needed to keep them going had manifested itself in extreme sexual arousal and frustration. Afterwards, John briefly rested his face against her neck as their breathing returned to normal. He might be currently making it difficult for her to breathe, but George loved having his full weight resting on her after they'd made love. But when he made a move to withdraw from her, they both realised just how much sexual secretion they'd managed to accumulate between them. As John reached for the box of tissues on the coffee table, George said with a smirk, "I think you enjoyed that, didn't you." "I didn't hear you complaining," He said dryly, giving her a handful of tissues, which she rammed between her legs. Getting to her feet she said, "Would you like to join me in a bath?" Saying that he would find them some wine, John turned his face away from her so as not to see her make her extremely undignified way up the stairs.
When they were lying in the bath, sipping from glasses of the Chablis George had left chilling in the fridge for whoever might come home with her, John turned his lips to hers and said, "I was proud of you today." "No more than I was of you," She said, blushing at his understated compliment. "I know how much you originally didn't want to do it," He continued. "Yet you still did." "Oh, and as if you'd have left it alone if I hadn't," She said in mock disgust. "I wanted Charlie to come and see it." "And I suppose you told her everything about it, that you, and Jo and Daddy were taking part, and she was all for it. Then, you will have casually dropped in the fact that I was playing Eve, and Charlie would have instantly gone off the idea. Am I right?" "I wanted her to be proud of you too," He said, his avoiding the question nevertheless telling her the answer. "Oh, John," George said softly. "You know that isn't going to happen. Far too much water has gone under the bridge for Charlie and I to ever have the kind of relationship that she has with you." "I used to think that about you and me," He said, thanking god that he had come back to her, and that she was now reclining in the crook of his arm, as close to him as she had ever been. "It was different with us," George explained. "We were both partially to blame for the failure of our marriage. Charlie certainly isn't to blame for why she only comes to me when she wants something that you won't give her." "And neither are you," He protested vehemently. "Don't let's go into all that now," She admonished him gently. "This afternoon was the most exhilarated I've ever felt out of bed, and I want to go on enjoying it."
When they eventually emerged from the bath, after some prolonged touching and George being brought to orgasm, George had the mischievous urge not to cover herself up with as many clothes as she'd had on before. Removing the robe Jo had bought her from the wardrobe, she slipped it over her shoulders. "Now that, I definitely approve of," John said, his voice caressing her just as his hands had done. "Yes, it is rather eye-catching, isn't it," She said, tying the belt in front. "But don't expect me to be able to keep my hands off you, if that's all it has to fasten it," He said with a smirk when she turned to face him. "Oh, I'm not," She said with all the confidence she possessed. "In fact, I shall be heartily disappointed if you even attempt to keep your hands off me." Leaving him in mid smirk, she walked downstairs, and began thinking about what they might eat for dinner, all the time feeling the silky softness of the robe sliding over her skin.
Digging some king prawns that needed eating out of the fridge, plus some vegetables, George began chopping in preparation for a stir-fry. She put on one of Karen's Alison Krauss CD's, the cheerful combination of violin and guitars fitting her mood. When John appeared in the kitchen, he topped up her glass of wine, and stood in the doorway watching her. Her eyes were bright, happy, with none of the darkness of depression that he saw in her far too often. "You look happy," He said with a smile. "Yes, I am," She confirmed, making a detour on her way to the cooker, to plant a quick kiss on his lips. "Do you think we'll be missed?" "I shouldn't imagine that anyone will be in the least surprised," She said knowingly. "I'll go and see Daddy tomorrow. He's the only one who might be particularly disapproving." "He's not quite as much of a dinosaur as you think he is, you know," John said fairly, thinking of the conversation he'd had with Joe a few weeks before. George would have a fit though, if she thought her father knew about Karen. "Daddy wouldn't be Daddy if he wasn't," She said fondly. Putting some rice on to boil, George lowered the heat on the stir-fry and leaned against the kitchen unit, taking a swig from her glass. As she raised her arm, the material of the robe clung slightly closer to her figure, giving John an excellent view of her prominent nipples. Being totally unable to resist, he walked slowly over to her, removed the glass from her hand, and undid the belt that held the robe together. "I wondered how long it would take you," she said in that sultry, sexy tone that always made him as stiff as a board. "Oh, this was all a ploy, was it," He mocked her gently, running his hands over her uncovered breasts, lightly tweaking at her already sensitive nipples. "But of course, my Lord," She replied as he kissed her. When he dropped to his knees, and she realised what his intention was, her eyes widened in anticipation. They'd had sex in here before, but not for a very long time, not since they were married. Gently parting her legs, he began dropping feather-light kisses over her labia, for the moment avoiding the pinnacle of her clitoris. But when he inched his tongue into her entrance, she gasped, the sight of him on his knees before her making her feel incredibly naughty. This was John, this was the high court judge, whom others usually obeyed. She hadn't asked him to do this, but here he was, in the most submissive position he could adopt for her. That tongue of his was so warm, that it set every one of her nerve endings on fire. Reaching over to switch off the cooker, George was glad that the kitchen unit was behind her, because she knew that her legs would be incapable of supporting her in a very short time. He gently held her hips to keep her in place, eventually moving his tongue up and around her clitoris. They could both hear the music playing in the lounge, the pure, clear voice of Alison Krauss insinuating its way into their senses. George didn't say a word as he kept on bringing her closer and closer to the edge, almost as though she didn't want to break the atmosphere. She almost whimpered as he delicately nibbled on her clitoris, not wanting to make more noise than was absolutely necessary. He loved the tiny sounds she made, knowing that he was the cause of every one of them. When she eventually came, her whole body shuddered with the effort it took for her not to cry out. John tenderly licked away every bit of her sexual secretion, savouring it as he had the Chablis in his glass. When he rose to his feet, she pulled him close, kissing him as thoroughly as he'd just done her, taking her taste from him. "You know," She said between kisses. "I'm getting almost as hooked on doing that as you are." "Now that is something I would like to see," He told her, his own arousal evident in his voice. "Not with Karen, I hope," She said with a laugh. "Perhaps," He admitted sheepishly. "But I'd give anything to see you do that to Jo." "Oh, would you now," She drawled seductively, thinking that if everything went to plan, he might just get his wish one of these days.
As George switched the cooker back on and finished the preparing of their meal, John began to take notice of the music she had on. The current piece was without words, just a couple of guitars, joined by a particularly skilful violin. "I know this," He said, after listening to the violin part. "Roisin quite often plays it when she's warming up." "I can imagine her liking this," George replied, thinking that Roisin playing this, no matter how unobtrusively, would certainly teach the stuffier classical players a thing or two. "If I know Roisin, she can probably play the guitar part as well." "Now that would turn a few heads," John said with a smile, taking in just how difficult the Choctaw Hayride really was. "Karen says she has a beautiful voice," George added, draining the rice. "Like someone else I could mention," He said fondly. They sat at the kitchen table to eat their meal, the homely surroundings of George's kitchen bringing back pleasant memories for both of them. "I wish you'd play more music like this," George said, Alison Krauss's violin again taking over when she wasn't singing. "Not really my thing, George," He told her, after swallowing a mouthful of the stir-fry. "It's pleasant enough to listen to, but you'd never catch me putting my Strad through something like that." "That's just prejudice," George said enthusiastically. "Against something that's just a little bit different from what you're used to. This kind of music can be just as skilful, just as complicated and difficult as classical music, but you don't want to admit it. All it would take is a little bit of guts." He knew she was goading him, and he was forced to acknowledge that her point did have merit, but it still didn't mean it was for him. Just out of interest, he began paying greater attention to the violin part of the song which was playing. "Are you sure that's only one violin?" He asked after a while. "Certain," She said firmly, seeing that he was at least entertaining the idea, even if he wasn't about to say so. "But you'd need to have the fingers of a contortionist to maintain that amount of double stopping," He said almost in horror. "Oh, believe me, darling," She drawled thoughtfully. "Your hands would be well up to the job." "Cassie Tyler must be one extremely lucky woman, if Roisin can play music like this," John said with a wicked grin at George's compliment. "Well, with the amount of finger exercise you get with both Jo and me, you shouldn't have anything to worry about." Even though they knew they could have each other at a moment's notice, they still flirted like this, teasing each other with as much verbal encouragement as possible. "That would be my ultimate fantasy," He said, putting his knife and fork together. "To have you and Jo at the same time." "Actually, I wouldn't have thought two girls would really work for you," She said, getting up and beginning to put the plates in the dishwasher. "Neither would I, a few years ago," He agreed. "But you live and learn." Then, fixing his eyes on the view that was being presented to him as she filled the dishwasher, he added, "Your legs look even better than usual in that robe. I don't know what made you buy it, but I'm heartily gratified that you did." "I didn't," She said, straightening up and turning to face him. "I got it for my birthday." "What, from Karen?" He assumed. "No, not Karen." "Then who?" He asked, now thoroughly intrigued. George laughed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," She said, knowing that she couldn't give Jo's secret away, not yet. "Try me," He invited. "I promised I wouldn't," She said, which wasn't strictly true, but it would do for now. "But it's no one you need to feel jealous over." "I hope not," He said quietly but firmly, drawing her closer to him as she returned to the table to pick up her glass of wine. When he kissed her, she could feel all the passionate need that he was trying not to betray in his voice. "Do you remember the time we made love on this table?" "Vividly," George said dryly. "I had bruised shoulder blades for days afterwards." Then, looking deep into his eyes, she saw the unspoken question. "No, John, absolutely no way," She said firmly, though with a broad smile lighting up her face. "Oh, that's a shame," He said mildly. "I quite fancy it." "Now, what would the rest of your brethren say to such evil thoughts?" She almost crooned, the wickedly sinful laugh just below the surface. "I don't care," He told her, his hands again beginning to wander. But before he could go too far, she detached herself from him and took his hand. "Come on," She said, pulling him up from the chair. "We might at least take this somewhere more comfortable."
When they moved to the sofa, he imagined they were simply there for a long and luxurious cuddle, that may or may not lead to a further pursuit of their pleasure, but he was wrong. Once John had seated himself at one end of the sofa, George lay down with her head in his lap. "You really don't have to do that," He said, realising exactly what her intention was. "John, can we get something straight," She said, looking up at him. "I only ever do this when I feel like it, and I certainly wouldn't do it if I didn't. So please just shut up and relax." "That's me told," He said with a smile as she undid his fly. "You really are behaving badly today, aren't you," He added, as she withdrew his length from his trousers. Yes, more than you know, George thought to herself, as her lips encircled the head, contemplating the gloriously sensual kiss she'd shared with Jo before the performance. But thinking of Jo, and doing this to John, had a most unfortunate effect on George. It gave her the positively orgasmic mental image, of herself doing this to John, and Jo looking on in something akin to awe. When he saw the blush inflame her cheeks, he gently detached her from him and said, "What are you thinking?" "Something that really ought to send me to confession immediately," She said with a smirk. "Even though I spent the entire afternoon in a church." "Go on, it can't be that bad," He encouraged, knowing that it would have to be really bad for her not to tell him. "I've just had the rather startling mental image," She said carefully, with her face turned away from him. "Of me doing this, and being watched by someone else." John laughed. "It's all that adoration from the audience today, going to your head." "So you don't think it's highly terrible then?" "Oh, I think that such a sinful thought, deserves nothing less than instant fulfilment, followed by six of the best for wanting such a thing." "John, stop it," She said, feeling her own arousal inexorably building at his words. "Why?" He asked with a smile. "You know you like it." To avoid answering his question, George again lowered her head to him, lavishing every attention she could think of on this beautiful, velvety organ she knew so well. She knew he was amused by her occasional liking to be punished, as if she had committed a misdemeanour, simply by becoming aroused by his voice. She knew that now and then she did have fantasies that were a little kinky to say the least, but John had never minded. He'd never criticised her for occasionally wanting him to try something with her, always having been up for anything new. When she felt his hand creep inside her robe, she still kept on going. His skin was so clean, so smooth, that if it hadn't been for the end result, George would have done this for him as often as he'd wanted. His hand was between her thighs now, no doubt discovering just how much his voice had aroused her. "You really would like to be watched doing that, wouldn't you," He said softly, his fingers seeking out all her favourite pleasure points. Having her mouth full, George simply smiled up at him. "The question is," He continued silkily. "Who would you like to see you in such a submissive position. Now, Karen would be an obvious choice, though I suspect that wouldn't quite be bad enough for you. So what about Jo?" He could see the heightened colour in her face, and feel the increasing wetness surrounding his fingers, telling him that he'd hit the nail on the head. Her breathing had quickened and her movements on him were becoming a little erratic. "What would she think to see you doing what you're doing now?" he asked her, though knowing he would get no answer. "Would you want me to be touching her as you were doing this, or would I be right in suggesting that you would want to do that yourself?" At her almost indecipherable whimper, John's eyes widened. So, she really did want Jo in that way. His beautiful, wicked, utterly sensational little minx really did want to do all those lovely things to Jo that she did to Karen. Now if only Jo could feel the same way.
When George detached her lips from him, she was breathing hard. "I'm sorry, John," She said between gasps, as he continued to move his hand on her. "But I can't keep doing this. I need you, now." "And it would be criminal of me to refuse," He replied, knowing that her saying that she needed him, was her way of saying that she needed to reach orgasm now. Swiftly divesting himself of his clothes, he joined her on the hearthrug, reasoning that there would be more room here than on the sofa. Spreading her legs wantonly and pulling him to her, George showed him just how much space was necessary this time. She was like a wild thing, writhing under him with all the abandon of a bucking bronco. John thought he may as well increase her pleasure even further. "Would you like Jo to watch us doing this too?" "No," She said between gasps. "I'd like to watch you and her doing this." John hadn't been expecting this reply, and the thought of it made him speed up his thrusts, grazing her G spot every time. He'd never thought he would like an audience all that much, but now George had suggested it, he had to admit that it had distinct possibilities. As they galloped nearer and nearer to the cliff edge of desire, George could feel all the blood rushing from every part of her body, all centring in on the part of her that connected so perfectly with John. She thought she might have screamed when she came, but she just managed to curb the impulse into a shout, though she didn't think he would have minded. As the turbulent waves of her orgasm washed over her, she passed out, the intense rush of adrenaline having been just a little too much.
Gently withdrawing from her, John lay beside her, holding her in his arms and waiting for her to gradually return to him. They'd had some utterly incredible sex when they were married, and during the last eighteen months or so, but never in all that time, had he ever made her pass out. When her eyes flickered open, she saw him smiling softly down at her. "Are you back with me?" He asked fondly. "I've never done that before," She said a little groggily. "And I've never made anyone do that before," He told her, gently brushing her fringe back from her face. When the tears began raining down her cheeks, he held her even closer, not entirely sure what was wrong. "I love you," She said through her tears. "I love you too," He said, kissing away some of her tears. "I'm sorry I said that about Jo." "Why?" He asked in surprise. "It obviously worked." "I shouldn't feel like that about her," George protested, the full weight of what she was in the middle of almost crushing her. Not only was she leading Karen up the garden path, but in another way, she was also doing the same to John. "You can't help what you feel, George. Does it really matter so much that you clearly find her attractive?" "Yes," She insisted. "Because it wasn't ever supposed to happen." John wasn't sure as to the source of her grief, but he gradually soothed it away, knowing that there was something she certainly wasn't telling him, but in his post-orgasmic state, he was wholly unable to work out what it was.