Who's Helen?, a short story by KiwiDreamer. Date added: 2012-05-17. Times viewed: 1520.
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- Intro: A prim politician's wife decides to cut loose. She becomes coarse and sexually proactive to get hammered.
Surprisingly, the few people who laughed and openly asked Adele Blackett did she have internal affairs were invariably women who probably felt they were being funny and a little naughty. The joke, if it could be called a joke, was Adele’s husband Brian was Minister of Internal Affairs in the Government of this former British Colony.
Also a joke and known only to Adele was she’d never had an affair post-marriage. She believed her husband had had several as his office staff were all attractive women and he traveled with them frequently, more often than not with just his private secretary, and Adele occasionally would see Brian whisper into the ear of an attractive woman he’d just met at a party. Why whisper? In Adele’s mind there were only two reasons. He would saying, “I’m plotting to bring down the Government” or much more likely “We must meet somewhere soon, er, in private.”
Brian’s appetite for sex was conservatively three times greater than Adele’s so she judged these affairs that he never confessed as something of a relief for her. She had two reasons for not having had affairs: She considered it improper and she considered such indiscretions could mar her husband’s career although the voters could still do that in a far more devastating manner. Oh, she smiled. There was a third reason. No one had asked her to be disgracefully naughty, at least not to her knowledge.
Living up to this string of thoughts while sitting on the terrace overlooking the lawn and the fishpond where fish probably lay shaking waiting for the next onslaught of stone throwing or the launching of the children’s blow-up boat with the crew falling out screaming into the shallows, Adele reflected further. How would a guy ask for her to surrender?
Surely he wouldn’t come straight out and say, “I find you so attractive may I have sex with you or even a variation of that using the F-word? Adele thought that would be unlikely. Perhaps he would run a finger over a breast and gaze into her eyes and declare, “These are something I desire to befriend” and of course she’d be bewildered and say, “What are?”
The truth was she’d have no idea of his verbal gambit and it was more than likely she’d not be paying sufficient attention and would completely miss the subtleties impregnated in the overture.
“Impregnated? Omigod no,” Adele said, lurching in her chair and blushing hugely.
Yes Adele blushed. Even her closest girlfriends knew her as rather an old-fashion rose or were less than flattering. They probably all wallowed in affairs.
Adele sighed remembering she’d not told cook Brian would not be in for dinner this evening. She’d say, “Claire, Brian is holed up somewhere having it off with some hot bitch so won’t be in for dinner tonight. But don’t fret, I’ll wolf down his dinner and then neutralize the potential weight gain by having a boisterous sex session with you darling. We’ll sweat ourselves into a river of lust.”
Adele studied theatre at college so had a tendency is create preposterous scenes when alone and speak the parts as the words creatively formed and flowed out of her mouth, completely unrelated to the way she normally behaved and spoke.
Now that was another thing. Everyone knows everyone has sex at college, heaps of it. But she knew of at least one person who’d never had sex at college, not even same-sex plundering. Fortunately so many of the girls lied that they’d never had sex that she was able to conceal the truth about her virtuous passage through college by telling the truth and everyone assuming she was lying.
Adele had been working as a stagehand waiting for the big break that would put her on to the stage permanently. She was bent into a high box packing away dining room props for storage when a guy came up behind her, a guy called Brian Blackett. He lifted up her blonde hair and kissed her nape. That was okay but he also pushed a hand between her widely spread legs and shot two fingers under her panty elastic and they penetrated her.
Quite unexpectedly lust built up from possessing an over-ripe unused peach consumed Adele and she behaved like a lamb and muttered things like ‘how gorgeous’ that only served to encourage Brian. So she could well remember her first fuck with him (with anyone actually), being pounded over a packing case, fully dressed, not being kissed on the lips and definitely not tongued and squealed like a stuck pig that only urged Brian to complete the most exciting fuck of his life to that point (as he would confess later).
When he ended he looked down he’d said, “Christ you are a virgin.”
She’d said solemnly, “It must be the past tense; the word to use is was, not are.”
Her calmness astounded him.
Brian had not used a condom so said, “Er you are protected against pregnancy?”
The 22-year-old said to him sweetly, “No, I suppose that means I’m pregnant?” and that really panicked Brian, who was a year older than Adele. He ran off for towels and she said he was so sweet and when they were ready to go she kissed him, quite the most unbelievably great kiss he could remember receiving. Only relatives were likely to kiss that chastely.
They parted and he raced home to report to his parents who said he must marry the girl.
“Who is she?” his father had demanded.
“Omigod,” screamed Adele’s mom, “she’s Charles and Susan Blackett’s daughter. I’ve seen them in the social pages with their daughter called Adele. You must marry her. They’re loaded. You won’t have to fool around trying to be an actor with their money behind you. Charles will lead you into an honorable career.”
Well that was true. Charles persuaded Brian to return to college and complete a degree in political science and encouraged his son-in-law to join the Young Liberals and to aim to become president of that branch of the Liberal Party. From that position Brian would see where that could take him.
Well that was some years ago. Adele didn’t become pregnant until four years into their marriage and they now had three children, away at boarding schools. Brian and Adele were nudging forty.
* * *
Adele went to the kitchen to apologize to Claire for lateness in not advising Brian wouldn’t be home for dinner but Brenda got in first.
“Do you want to eat alone or dine with me Mrs Blackett? Mr Blackett said during breakfast he’d not be home this evening.”
“With you would be fine Claire but change into your best dress and we’ll eat in the dining room.”
“But Mrs Blackett, you can’t have the likes of me eating in the formal dining room.”
“I rather like the likes of you Claire. Please consider eating with me there.”
“Very well Mrs Blackett. I’ll remember this occasion for the rest of my life,” said the thirty-year-old Claire O’Toole, a recent arrival from Country Carlow in Ireland. Claire had a pointy nose, freckles and mousy hair as well as no apparent breasts. Adele had selected her from applicants because she thought it was unlikely Brian would dine on their cook who was not a big-breasted beauty.
Reading in bed that night, a rather tedious account by a woman describing her life at sea and how she rose to captain the world’s fourth largest liner and apparently never had sex although she thought about it rather a lot, Adele thought there were similarities about their lives. She felt she was at sea, going nowhere, and although her sexual needs were far from being rapacious, she thought about it rather a lot. Sighing, Adele closed the boring book and drifted off to sleep thinking about being the captain of a liner and lining up her crew and deciding what two she’d sleep with that night.
A week later, Adele attended the annual meeting of their local branch of the Liberal Party. Brian addressed the meeting and a few minutes after that his driver rushed in and whispered. Brian rose as asked to be excused due to ‘important matters of State’. He whispered to Adele, “The Old Man (Prime Minister) is calling the Cabinet together to announce a reshuffle of portfolios. One of us is for the chop.”
Brian left, white-faced and to applause.
Loyally clapping Adele wondered if her husband had seduced a woman too high up the political tree and the PM was about to sack him although he’d remain a Member of Parliament. It the occurred it would at least teach her husband to be very careful where he shoved his thingy.
The election of officers for the local branch of the Libs followed the retiring chairman’s address, and taking forty minutes to say practically nothing indicated retirement was well overdue.
To everyone’s horror the retiring secretary, wife of the chairman, announced no nominations had been received “for the two senior positions the present incumbents are vacating.” God, Adele thought, that woman sounded more decrepit than her husband.
Nominations were called for from current financial members. Three names were called and those three persons accepted nominations and after it was checked that all those involved were currently financial members an election was held. The dishy Mr Ralph Moore was elected.
There was silence when nominations were called for the position of secretary until some guy proposed, “Mrs Blackett”. The idiot’s big-breasted woman called ‘seconded’ and the foolish chairman moved that nominations be closed and prepared to put that suggestion to the vote.
In panic Adele stood and demanded, “Are those two people involved in my nomination financial members?”
The secretary said yes, they were Mr Moore’s parents and although had previously never attended a branch meeting were paid up members.
Adele knew she was beaten because if she refused nomination Brian would berate her for failing to support the party and everyone including parents and husbands would consider that a far greater crime than Brian seducing all the party’s nubile women and attractive wayward wives. She nodded acceptance and was elected with acclaim.
At the end of the meeting Adele jumped a foot into the air when Ralph slid over to her and ran a hand down her butt, out of sight of his wife, and grabbed a handful of flesh. It was over so quickly that Adele was almost thinking it hadn’t happened.
“I am so delighted Adele that you have joined me to convert this branch into the most dynamic branch of your husband’s electorate.”
“Ah yes, I am delighted,” Adele said vaguely and Ralph’s wife Helen, an attorney, strode up to her and said through clenched teeth, “Congratulations Mrs Hackett. I trust you don’t regard your elevation as a social position to thwart my husband’s political ambitions?”
The suppressed actress within Adele screamed at her to reply, “Fuck off you stupid cow and don’t bore me with your pettiness.” But restraint reigned and Adele replied coolly, “Professionalism is what everyone gets from me…um what is your name?”
“Helen Moore,” hissed the woman, well aware the lying bitch knew her name. They’d gone through high school together.
Adele arrived home and said goodnight to Claire who was in the kitchen working on a crossword. A few minutes later Claire arrived with an unrequested warm cup of cocoa. As she left Adele wondered if she were remiss in not inviting Claire to jump in with her and then thought well she’d prefer someone with larger breasts. As she snuggled down she thought of Ralph Moore’s clenching a piece of her ass.
But that was not all. Even more significant Ralph had said ‘your husband’ rather than ‘Brian’. Claire had recalled numerous female writers describing affairs, probably from their own experiences, never-never had the adulterer use the husband’s name when he was targeting the wife.
“Omigod, I going to have an affair,” she wheezed, nervously pulling away from touching herself. Instead she fell asleep thinking of being on her back floating in the fishpond with Ralph on his back on top of her and they waited for the wind to catch the sail that Adele had designed to attach to his erect penis.
Brian arrived in bed and Adele, half asleep, was aware of her tit being squeezed and her butt smacked. That could only mean one thing and so she eased off her panties and Brian said thank you dear and plunged in two dry fingers, making her utter a string of obscenities that served to get his half-inflated cock into full erection, making her think she should give him a subscription to Viagra Monthly Supply.
Later when she toweled him and then attended to herself, Adele asked how the crisis Cabinet meeting had gone and had he lost his portfolio due to alleged incompetence.
“No I’ve been given increased responsibilities and promoted to the Front Bench,” he said proudly as he began squeezing her tit again, making Adele decide not to order his Viagra subscription just yet.
Brian said he’d retained his posting as Minister of International Affairs and was now Minister of Prostitution Control and Minister of Curbing Thuggery and Other Minor Violence.
“Christ when that new portfolio was announced and then my name added I misheard the announcement and that I was being made Minister of Buggery.”
“What’s that?” his wife asked naively.
Next day Ralph called Adele to invite her to lunch to talk over his plans for the branch.
“Will Helen be there?”
“Oh that Helen,” he laughed and sounded flustered. “If you want her there I’ll call her to arrange it.”
“No thank you Ralph. I’d rather be alone with you when we meet like this.”
There was silence except for Ralph’s breathing. Then she heard him breathe in strongly and he asked, “God Adele, are you going to make this easy for me?”
“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” she said airily. God, she didn’t want to be laid the first time a guy hit on her and took it for granted she’d open her legs for him. She understood men talked about women who were like that and that’s why those easy women hogged most of the available casual sex.
Ralph, an architect and the same age as Adele and his wife, appeared lost for words so she cut the call. He called back to name the restaurant and discuss time. He was very nervous but made no effort to apologize for some perceived misunderstanding. Adele was relieved about that because it meant he’d keep on thinking he’d offend her if he overstepped the mark, although one had to be vague about what that mark might be.
She arrived in the lobby to find Ralph was already waiting, and thought perhaps he’d decided to arrive on time.
Ralph straightened his back and moved in and took the safe option, kissing her cheek. Adele, as rehearsed as the wanton heroine in the play that kept running through her mind, reached down and very briefly felt his penis.
Ralph jumped and looked at her scandalized or was it confusion wondering if she’d really grabbed him like that? Adele thought although it might grow to a good size she could imagine it supporting a sail large enough to float them across the fishpond.
Ralph was in a cream Italian-cut suit with an apricot shirt and black and gray diagonally striped tie. So she said the obvious: “You look very handsome today.”
He looked at her nervously, rather like a young colt ready to bolt. “You are confusing me.”
She took his arm and marched him into the restaurant. “What, don’t you regularly look handsome?”
“What does that mean?”
“Well I thought my comment about you looking handsome, being so splendidly dressed, had confused you on your own admission.”
“No I was meaning…” He tailed off, obviously his mind catching up and telling him he couldn’t accuse a woman he scarcely knew of grabbing his dick.
“Oh I had been thinking about you not wanting Helen to be here.”
Another stop midstream and then he blurted, “Omigod, you’re playing with me.”
“Ralph shhhhh. You know I’m not touching it. People can hear.”
Panic showed on Ralph’s face.
Adele said she didn’t realize men used the word ‘Omigod.”
“Helen uses it a lot.”
“Helen is my wife. She went through high school with you and she thought you were wimpy. There, I’ve said it.”
“Oh you brave man,” and falling back on to her rehearsed scrip Adele said, “Mention that stupid women’s name in front of me again and I’ll not fuck you.”
Ralph froze and then looked around and found no one appeared aware of what was being said at his table.
“Adele, please do not continue this line. We are here to discuss a makeover of the branch.”
Although she had no script in her head to reply to that, Adele managed, “Now who’s the wimp?” and watching Ralph’s face crumple she felt she’d made a big home run. Or did that mark the end of his offensive? Oh Christ, she had attacked his manhood, making him feel emotionally castrated.
“Tell me Ralph,” she adlibbed desperately, “How many inches do I need to prepare for when I fuck you?”
“Almost eight,” he whispered.
“Oh god, no man can be that long,” she whispered and relief flooded as she watched pride takeover Ralph’s face. She asked did it have a large knob.
Ralph’s swelling chest gave Adele the answer so she backed off and eventually they began talking about revitalizing the branch without the confines of party rules pertaining to branch structural components.
Adele drove home in a great state of excitement because as they were parting outside the restaurant Ralph said courageously, “Should we make our next meeting a night meeting?”
“Yes and why not. I’d prefer the venue to be out of town.”
“Meaning?” Ralph asked sensibly.
“An overnight meeting in our own hotel suite.”
Now he really looked like a capable seducer as he grinned like a chairman knowing he was in control, “I’ll see what I can arrange.”
“As chairman you’ll get Brian’s daily schedules. Pick a night when he’s out of town and that leaves me with no explaining to do.”
Ralph’s grin showed Adele every tooth in his mouth. He had rather a good set.
Highly aroused Adele greeted Claire and then said she was off for an afternoon nap. She locked the bedroom door she pulled out her small box of toys and really hammered herself. And there was a bonus to come. Brian arrived in bed that night really looking for it. All this left the supposedly demure Adele thinking perhaps her station in life was prostitution.
* * *
Adele left to commit adultery for the first time well prepared with condoms, lube, new underwear, new butt plugs and she wore sexy clothes. She was relieved she was had no catty feelings of delight about fucking that bitch Helen’s husband.
She booked in and was taken to the suite. Ralph’s overnight bag was there but he wasn’t? Had he panicked and run off?
Ralph arrived a few minutes later with flowers to add to the ones already in the suite. He received a big kiss for that and when Adele without thinking touched his dick Ralph said hoarsely to unzip him and suck.
“What about the flowers?”
“Later,” he said, pushing Adele to her knees a little roughly. But she took it, aware that men also have their urgent needs.
The dick was long, fairly thick and as smooth as a baby’s bottom. She was delighted. He’d had a very recently session of hair removal because the dick had no sign of a five o’clock shadow.
Adele applied everything Brian had patiently taught her. She slurped up and down and worked around the bag of nuts and then tried to get her tongue tip down the penile opening.
Obviously the bitch and other girlfriends didn’t do that to Ralph. He squirmed and wheezed and hopped on one foot and then the other and kept blurted, “Oh fuck, oh fuck of fuck” and almost tore out her hair by the roots.
She then gobbled him and twisted the cock lower down as whores did in the DVDs that Brian had given her as training films.
When he creamed she hosed her face and made sure he saw her fake a swallow, although just a bit. She spat out the horrible stuff when he wasn’t looking, just as she did with Brian. Apparently men were content just to believe you had swallowed.
Ralph with surprising strength then picked her up and bent her over the table.
“Don’t rip my briefs, they’re new,” she requested but was ignored. They were shredded and piece of them were flung at the ceiling.
The big thick cock then entered her and the doggy was unbelievably good. The big head of Ralph’s cock kept rubbing over something that kept Adele on the verge of screaming and she came twice before he grunted and left his deposit deep inside her.
He was hungry and attempted to head off for food straight away but Adele made him wait while she walked about wiping until she was no longer dripping. She planned to wear only a tight white dress to dinner and so didn’t want to leave a trail behind her.
After a bath she was ready.
“About time,” Ralph complained and then saw she was without a bra. “Christ,” he said, licking his lips. “Should we eat here in our room?”
“No I feel like enjoying the restaurant ambience,” Adele purred. “Beside we need a rest and to have our branch planning meeting.”
“What fucking meeting?”
“I mean to plan the branch makeover, silly. And when we’ve done that we plot to allow you to achieve your political ambition.”
“Who told you about my greatest aspiration,” he demanded.
“A cow you know better than I do.”
“The bitch had no right to tell you,” he said darkly. “Keep your mouth shut about that.”
On the return to their room, Ralph was so horny after listening to an hour of Adele’s filthy talk that he stopped the lift, pushed her against the wall of mirror-glass and banged her in long, battering strokes that practically shook the flesh free off her backbone and hip bones.
He’d had a great deal to drink and cried, “I can’t cum Helen.”
Use of that name angered Adele. She jammed her ring finger up his bony ass and as the big diamond and claws of her engagement ring perforated tissue with his rectum, Ralph yelled and pulled out and fired all over the mirror glass, almost to the roof of the car.
As they left the lift, Ralph waddling gingerly, they looked back with pride at the gooey semen sliding down the glass obscenely.
“Women using this lift tonight will look at that mess and say in awe, ‘Omigod, Kilroy was here,” Adele smirked.
“Some motherfucker, probably your wife’s father,” said Adele, who was sinking into moral decline due to her fall into licentious behavior and the discard of her effected ways.
“Do I have a wife?” asked the architect, wondering why his ass had been on fire.
Adele said sweetly, “No that bitch doesn’t deserve the title of wife.”
“Did you plough me using a jumbo size strap-on um… um…?”
“Adele,” Adele offered helpfully.
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