Naked Lies by Ray Gordon

my naked
body? Finally putting it down to my imagination, I somehow managed
to get to sleep. But I dreamed terrible dreams.
    Through the
velvety curtains of my dreams, I saw myself standing naked before
Den in the lounge, my hands tethered behind my back. My feet wide
apart, my secret valley gaping, he was thrusting something in and
out of my vagina. It was long, huge, and it stretched my pussy lips
wide apart, to the hilt. As he violated my vaginal sheath, penises
drifted around me, moving close to my face, threatening to enter my
mouth. Suddenly, the purple phalluses exploded in orgasm, showering
me with sperm, splattering my cheeks, my mouth, until I was
drowning in a sea of sex.
    I woke with a
start to a new morning, wondering what the day would bring. Mat
would be home that evening, but the thought worried me. If Den
dropped another package through the letterbox and Mat happened to
open it... I'd played with fire, and was sure to be burned.
    I shouldn't
have gone to Den's house, let alone allowed him to finger and lick
me to orgasm. I shouldn't have allowed him to suck my nipples, lick
my sex valley, and I shouldn't have played dangerous games in the
garden. Mistakes had been made, inevitably to be followed by dire
consequences.
    Making coffee,
I pondered on the recent events. It had been like a game to me,
teasing Den, giving him the come-on and then hiding in the house.
Masturbating as I'd pictured him watching me had been exciting,
enhancing the heavenly sensations. But now the game had turned
sinister.
    I still had a
chance to turn the clock back though, I decided. No matter what I'd
done, there was no proof... No proof? Den's bloody tape recording
was all the proof he needed! Once Mat heard my so-called
confession, all hell would be let loose!
    Sitting at the
kitchen table sipping my coffee and munching toast, I became aware
of my clitoris calling for attention - swelling and throbbing
within my sex valley. My vaginal juices wetting my panties,
something within me had definitely been roused. But what? Was I a
latent nymphomaniac? Masturbating with the banana and then
savouring the hot fruit had stimulated me no end. But was I really
a nymphomaniac?
    As the front
doorbell rang, I froze. It could have been the postman or the
milkman, but I knew instinctively that it was Den. "Jane!" he
called through the letterbox. "Jane, I know you're in there!" My
hands trembling, spilling coffee as I deposited my cup on the
table, I didn't know what to do. "Jane!" he persisted, his deep
voice menacing. "I've put something through the letterbox. Take a
look at it!"
    Tentatively
walking through the hall, I picked up a photograph from the
doormat. Stretched out on the grass with my skirt up over my
stomach, my open pussy blatantly displayed, the picture was clear
evidence of my obscene exhibitionism. I felt sick as Den coolly
informed me that there were several copies. My heart thumping
against my chest, I didn't know what to say as he insisted that I
let him in.
    "Come on,
Jane!" he wheedled as I gazed glassy eyed at the photograph.
"Either you let me in, or Mat gets a copy of the picture!"
    "All right,
all right!" I finally conceded, reluctantly opening the door.
    "That's more
like it," he grinned, stepping into the hall, his dark eyes locked
to mine. "So, what do you think of the picture?"
    "I think it's
me relaxing quite innocently in the garden."
    "What, with
your cunt deliberately on show?"
    "I forgot to
put my panties on. All this proves is that you're a pervert."
    "It proves
that you were showing me your cunt, Jane. When Mat sees..."
    "When Mat sees
it, he'll probably punch you in the face."
    "I think not,"
he smirked, sauntering through the hall to the lounge. Meekly
following him, I wondered at his next move. "How many women
sunbathe like that?"
    "Me, for
starters."
    "How many
women have posed for men's mags, left their panties, their
suspender belts and dressing gown in their neighbours' houses?"
    "I..."
    "There's one
other