My Story - Part 1
All work copyright © Claire Brighton 2011
From My Diaries
1) The Birth of Curvy Claire
After reading through my diaries, I really wanted to write my past down properly. Not quite as an autobiography, or as a memoir, but something else. Something for me, a project that would help me make sense of things in my head, and a way of reliving and enjoying some fond memories as well as give me some pleasure when, hopefully, I publish my writing online, by sharing with a larger audience. With luck, the feedback I will get will also help, and perhaps be enjoyable too. We will see.
So, the first question came to me as soon as I started leafing through my various journals, diaries and albums. Where to start? Which story should I write first? I could begin at the very beginning. The story of my childhood and upbringing - there are numerous issues there which I think contributed to me becoming Curvy Claire, as well as Claire Brighton, but that would be boring. Not that there aren’t some interesting and even horny memories to explore from my younger years, especially through my exploratory teenage era, but I decided that instead of revealing the birth and development of the real me, it would be more engaging to begin with the origins of my alter ego.
It was the summer of 2004, and I had just turned twenty-two but I was still quite naive for a woman of that age. Of course, at the time, I felt mature, especially as I’d been married for two years, in a relationship for four years and mother to a one-year-old girl called Scarlett who was the most beautiful thing in the entire world.
But now, looking back, I can’t believe how immature I was. I had lived a fairly sheltered life, unaware of how things really were and being looked after for the most part. Of course, living with someone, and then having a baby had made me grow up rapidly, as such things do, and exposed me to certain realities, but I was about to have another, equally profound, awakening.
The sexual side of me was about to come to life, although I didn’t know it at the time. Back then, I was happy with my sex life. I had only slept with one person before my husband, but both my partners had kept me reasonably satisfied until then. However I was going to discover that sex could be much different from what I had experienced before.
I will, in due course, write the stories about losing my virginity, and my first sex with my husband and how everything developed between us, as well as some of the interesting sexual adventures I had growing up, like seeing my first cock, and the things that happened when I was at high school (a private all-girls school) but all in good time.
I wasn’t totally blind to sex, far from it. I had watched porn on the Internet for a few years, intrigued by erotic stories, and I even watched some naughty videos just out of curiosity. I admit I was intrigued by some of the more extreme things even, women having threesomes and girls with other girls especially piqued my interest, but I never had any intention of doing anything like that. I watched it purely with interest, I found it titillating and arousing but I never became obsessed or addicted to porn, like you hear some people doing. The moment I closed the lid on the laptop, or the second I masturbated in private to what I’d just read or seen, all thoughts of it went out of my head. It was just a way of passing the time, during my sometimes long and boring day times.
Paul, my husband had insisted that we have hired help in looking after our daughter, but he didn’t like me working either. Truth be told, I have always liked having time to myself. I am a lady of leisure, I can’t help it. I don’t really like being told what to do. I much prefer shopping or lunching with friends. That might annoy some of you, but I was lucky enough to be brought up in a wealthy and privileged lifestyle and it’s the only thing I know. In recent years, I have changed. I give a fair share of my time to charity and work in a local charity shop a day or two a week, but back then I enjoyed being a spoiled housewife and mother.
I should get back to the story in hand, I suppose. The summer I mentioned was a pleasant one if I recall, warm and sunny but my husband noticed that I wasn’t wearing very many summery dresses and tops like I usually did. The reason for this was that since having Scarlett, our daughter, I had been left with stretch marks, and my body had suddenly changed. I had never been what anyone would call thin. I have always had large breasts, which have been an asset at times, a hindrance at others, and my hips, bottom and thighs have always been rather fleshy and wobbly. But being pregnant seemed to have emphasized everything. I was wobblier, bigger and I felt ugly and fat, even though I knew I wasn’t that overweight.
So Paul hired me a personal trainer. He had offered to pay for a membership to a very exclusive gym not far from where we lived back then, but I felt too shy to wear gym clothes out of doors, and I was scared that the other members might see my wobbly bits ‘wobbling’ so instead Paul contacted Brian.
Brian was fantastic. A very good-looking, black gentleman. When I say black, he was mixed-race, with the most gorgeous green eyes. Muscled, toned and fit, and extremely patient with me, I liked him immediately and a certain chemistry developed between us quite quickly. I came to trust him during his bi-daily visits to our home, and within just a few weeks I could feel and see the results of our hour long exercise sessions.
At first, I found the routines demanding and tiring, but once I got used to them, I instead found it exhilarating and energising. When Brian left, I felt better about myself, almost like a natural high, or the buzzing feeling you get when you’ve had a large glass of a good red wine. Even our sex life improved. My husband got the benefit of my new found fitness, improved mood and burgeoning confidence every time he came home from work at the weekends. He commented on my increasing libido, saying that I was wearing him out and perhaps he needed a fitness coach to keep up with me!
And I think that was the first time I realised that my sex drive was higher than his. In time, it became clear that I had probably a higher sex drive than average, whereas Paul has one which is quite low for a man. We had only ever had sex once a week or so, on average, but it was all I had ever known, so that was normal to me.
I don’t know exactly why I changed a little, but I do remember getting the laptop out one day when Brian had left. I had showered, and felt clean and incredibly sexy. I put the computer on the bed, found some dirty video and played with myself all afternoon. When I orgasmed, I rested for while, then I would read or look at something new and then when I was ready I would tease myself some more. This became a regular thing, and after a little while I actually got brave enough to order myself (my first online purchase ever) a vibrator from a well-known online sex store. I had no idea how big dildos were, so I researched the average penis size and ordered one which was that size, which I gathered was around six inches. I was very surprised when it was delivered, because it was significantly larger and thicker than my husband’s cock, and I was a little nervous to use it at first, but soon got over that one particularly horny afternoon when I learned exactly how good it feels to have a buzzing vibrator pressed against your clitoris.
That was when I began to fantasize about Brian. I always fantasized when I masturbated, but they were just usually about my husband, or the guy on the laptop screen, or sometimes just ‘faceless’ strangers, so I was shocked when my black fitness trainers ‘popped’ in to my fantasy unexpectedly. I just ‘went with it’ and found myself having a particularly intense orgasm. Almost as soon as I’d come, I shrugged it off as purely a silly fantasy, but a couple of days later when I next saw Brian, I must have blushed bright red as he kept asking me if he had embarrassed me or something.
Things had become a little flirty between us. That happened naturally because we had always got on well, and had a good personality mix and chemistry. It was never anything more than him complimenting my figure, which was purely for encouragement at first, but slowly became him being more open and insisting that he found my curvy form sexy. He never over-stepped the mark. He constantly checked that his flirtations weren’t being unprofessional, and I always told him that I would tell him if he ever offended me, although I never did, of course. To be honest, I was enjoying the attention, and again with the benefit of hindsight I realise I was encouraging him and flirting him more than I probably realised I was at the time.
I found myself wearing more and more daring gym clothes. At first, I had worn tracksuits, or loose-fitting sweats, but after a few months of training I was now wearing tight fitting leggings and rather than a loose top with a sports-bra beneath, I was simply wearing proper sports crop-tops, which exposed my substantial cleavage. And when I went out, even though it was now Autumn and the cooler weather was arriving, I had gone back to wearing smaller and tighter dresses, and I wasn’t afraid to bare a bit of chest or leg anymore. Again, I enjoyed the attention this got me. Brian’s eyes exploring my body when he thought I wasn’t looking turned me on, as did a stranger’s head turning when I walked past him in the park, taking Scarlett for a walk in her pram.
I was becoming a little bit of an attention whore, but certain things were building up inside me. I was on the way to becoming Curvy Claire. But she wasn’t about to be born quite in the way you’d expect.
I had continued to fantasize about, and flirt heavily with Brian, during our workout sessions. Then one day things went a little bit weird. Even now, looking back, I am still not quite sure what came over me, but that particular day, Brian had turned up looking incredibly good. He had cut his hair really short, and was wearing a vest which showed off his powerful arms and toned chest and through all the exercises, I kept finding my thoughts wandering to what he might look like naked, and what it would be like to sleep with him. He was tall, though a little shorter than my exceptionally tall and admittedly handsome husband, but he was much broader and had something about him that my Paul lacked. Perhaps it was just his sporty image, or his charismatic and yet commanding attitude, I don’t know but I found myself flirting with him even more than usual and then when we had completed our hour’s exercise I offered him a drink and said I’d like it if he stayed around for a while, to keep me company.
Brian accepted after a moment’s hesitation, and I got him some juice after he declined wine. I had a large glass, which perhaps contributed to what I, rather clumsily, did next. I don’t remember actually setting out to seduce him, I was acting purely on impulse. I had never tried to seduce anyone before, so I had no idea what I was doing. I was riding on a wave of euphoria from his attentions mixed with my rising confidence and contained desires.
We had been chatting in the dining room, and we were laughing and giggling and even touching hands, like the very best of friends do, when I realised I was rather sweaty and feeling a little uncomfortable in my training clothes. Perhaps the alcohol gave me a little more swagger than I would have had otherwise, but I remember asking him if he would mind while I took a very quick shower.
Brian seemed surprised, but didn’t say anything to put me off. I hadn’t planned any of this, I was just doing whatever came in to my head, and Brian seemed to be happy with what was happening, so I stripped off in the bedroom and even left the bedroom door open, just in case he should come upstairs to use the toilet or anything. We had an en-suite shower in the bedroom, but I deliberately walked across the landing to the main bathroom, with just a towel wrapped loosely around me, but unfortunately Brian was still downstairs and out of view of me.
I delayed having my shower, wondering if he would come upstairs to further our flirtations but he still didn’t, so I finally went in, enjoying the hot running water while again, leaving both the bathroom door and the shower door ajar, so he could see me if he wanted to.
But still no Brian. Feeling slightly disappointed, but also excited at what I was doing, I wrapped a towel around me, scraped my wet hair back, and went downstairs to apologise for being so long.
Brian was where I’d left him, sat at the dining room table, still drinking his juice and flicking through a magazine he must have found laying around. He asked if I’d had a nice shower, and I said sorry to have left him for so long, floundering for an excuse, but he waved my apology away and said it was fine and not to worry at all. As he said that, I was pouring myself another wine, and I saw him look at first my still-wet legs, and then my shoulders and he smiled.
That smile, and those bright green eyes did something. Something melted inside me. Perhaps it was my last bit of inhibition, I don’t know, but I ‘accidentally’ dropped my towel. For what felt like an hour, but was probably just a few seconds, I was totally naked in front of him. Back then, I had a small triangle of very fair, light brown pubic hair, and I saw his eyes go from my breasts to my groin, then he quickly looked away, and started to apologise himself.
I picked up the towel, suddenly uncertain of what to do, and as he covered his eyes and made to leave the kitchen, I found myself walking towards him, making no move to cover myself.
“It’s okay,” I recall saying, “It’s not your fault.”
Brian took the towel from my hand, and still averting his eyes, draped it over my chest. Even writing this makes me cringe, but I took the towel off him, then took his hand and put it on my right breast.
The black man snatched his hand away as though I had put it on a hot iron.
“What’s the matter?” I said, trying (probably incredibly badly) to sound sexy, “You find me attractive, don’t you?”
Brian stammered that he did, but took a step back as I tried to get closer into him. “This isn’t proper, Claire. I’m sorry.”
And with that, he practically fled, leaving me shocked, and then when I heard the front door close behind him, I burst into tears.
I don’t remember much of the following night and day. I drowned my sorrows and shame in red wine. Brian telephoned the day after to cancel that day’s session, apparently due to him not being very well, which I was partially relieved about as I wasn’t sure if I could face him. I didn’t even answer the telephone. I got Elaine, my nanny to take the call, as I did when he called a couple of days later. But I finally did speak to him the following weekend.
Paul happened to answer the phone, looking slightly puzzled, and asking why Brian was calling on a Saturday evening to speak to me. I shrugged. I couldn’t tell him, could I? And neither could I refuse to speak to him without rousing some suspicion, so feeling rather awkward, I accepted the handset and said, “Hello?”
“You don’t need to avoid me,” Brian said, “I know you can’t speak, with Paul being there, but I just wanted to say sorry for not handling the other day like I should have.”
“That’s fine, don’t worry about it,” I said, feeling a little flustered with Paul listening.
“I must have really embarrassed you,” Brian continued, “I didn’t mean to reject you like that. I hope you don’t feel... humiliated or anything.”
“No, I’m fine,” I said as dismissively as I could, eager to get to the point and hang up, “Maybe see you on Monday if you’re feeling better?”
“I haven’t been ill,” he confessed, “You know why I didn’t come. Claire, I find you incredibly sexy and attractive, but you’re a married woman, and I’m a professional. If I ever did anything like that with one of my clients and people were to find out, I’d be finished.”
“I understand,” I said. Nothing he was saying made me feel any better. Surely, if he really found me as sexy and attractive as he said, he wouldn’t have been able to help himself, would he?
“I’m not sure you do,” Brian said, “But I will come over Monday and if you’d like, we can just pretend the other day never happened. Pick up from where we left off.”
“That would be perfect,” I said, “See you on Monday.”
The moment I put the phone down, I felt like crying, but I had to act okay in front of Paul.
“Everything all right?” he asked and I smiled and nodded despite feeling completely crushed. He wanted to pretend it had never happened. He had seen me completely naked, and wanted to forget about it. He probably already had forgotten about it. What was I thinking? A man like Brian could have any woman he wanted. Why would he be interested in a silly, chubby blonde like me?
That night, I cuddled up to Paul in bed, desperately needing a hug and for him to make love to me. I wanted someone to want me, to find me irresistible and desirable, but he apologised for not being in the mood, kissed me on the forehead, told me he loved me and went to sleep. I laid awake that night for a long time, just thinking, before I eventually fell into a sleep full of nightmares, which accounted for me feeling very tired the next day. Paul commented that I looked exhausted, which made me feel even worse, but as per usual I smiled and shrugged it off, getting on with my usual Sunday routine of making roast dinner.
That night, we were going to a Rotary event, a club of which Paul was a member, but I really didn’t feel like going. I was tired anyway, but I also didn’t feel much like socialising and faking a smile to all our friends, so Paul said he would go alone, and I was happy with that, but a little while after he set off, I changed my mind.
I had bought a new dress just for the occasion, a deep turquoise designer affair, with a plunging neckline and a slit up the side of the skirt. It was as daring a dress as I had ever worn, and I as I looked at it in the wardrobe, I suddenly felt like going. Why shouldn’t I? Perhaps some of our male friends might look twice at me, and give me that lovely feeling of being admired. Maybe one of my female friends would compliment me on how good I looked. I needed something like that, so I got ready as quickly as I could, and ordered a taxi to the hotel where the event was being held.
I was too late for the dinner, but there was dancing afterwards and I went in looking for Paul, only to be told by some of my friends that he had left shortly before I got there. I called him on his mobile phone and he explained he had got a migraine coming. It was frustrating for me, because it felt like nothing was going right for me at the moment, but when I shouted at him on the phone I instantly felt guilty because he apologised and told me I should stay at the party and enjoy it. He would be fine if he got his head down for a little while, and it wasn’t like I didn’t know anyone. Most of the people there knew me, and so after asking him if he was sure, I headed back in to the party and was immediately bought a drink by a couple who were friends of ours.
They introduced me to their friend, who unfortunately had been stood up by his date for the evening, and was feeling rather out of place. His name was Lee, and he was, as I remember, distinctly average. He was dressed smartly enough in a black suit and tie, but he was of average height, green eyes, brown haired and had a very plain, common-looking face. He spoke roughly, if politely, but despite him being very much a blend-in-to-the-background type of person, I found myself talking to him and having drink after drink with him as I introduced him to the club patronage that he hadn’t already met. Lee was very easy to talk to, and he was obviously attracted to me from the ways his eyes rather blatantly went to my cleavage every time I was speaking, especially after he’d had a few drinks the later the evening progressed.
“I’m going to have a cigarette. Do you mind?” Lee asked me, and I suggested we go for a walk outside. I could use a cigarette, and we walked out in to the gardens where he lit one for himself and gave one to me. This was long before the smoking ban came in to effect, but I only smoked very occasionally, and purely socially, but Paul hated it and there a few people in the venue who I didn’t really trust not to tell Paul that they’d seen me having a cigarette.
We walked and talked as we smoked, and then when Lee saw me shivering in the cool air, he wrapped an arm around me. I froze slightly, but the wine was having a certain effect on me, so I didn’t push him away.
“You’re cold. I’ll warm you up,” he said with a friendly smile.
“Will you now?” I said, trying to be friendly, but unintentionally flirting.
Lee looked at me, then glanced back at the venue, which was a little distance away, but far enough that we probably couldn’t be easily seen in the dark of the evening. “You look incredible tonight, Claire.”
I smiled and said thank you, and he continued to flatter me as he led me by the hand a little further away from the event and the guests inside. Before long, we were standing around a corner, any view of the venue completely obscured by brick walls and garden hedges.
“I know you’re married, but he’s not here tonight,” he whispered, “I wouldn’t have left you alone tonight, not looking a million dollars like you do.”
That was the moment that I should have pushed him away, but I didn’t. I was leaning against a cool, stone wall and he had one hand on my face, leaning in to me, and right then, I could have, I should have, stopped it.
But I didn’t. Lee kissed me.
And I kissed him back. Passionately.
Within moments, his hands were on my breasts, first cupping then kneading and squeezing. I made no move to stop him. It felt good to be wanted. I was wearing a lovely silver beaded necklace, which caught in his hand as he pushed the front of my dress down, exposing one of my tits to the cool night air. He pulled it from my bra and as he did so, the tangled necklace snapped. I didn’t care. I was so excited as I felt my nipple stiffen, even under the warm touch of his rough hands.
He squeezed my breast hard then, which snapped me back to the present long enough for me to mutter, “I shouldn’t be doing this,” but Lee’s kisses stayed insistent, muffling the words, then trailing along my jaw bone to my neck, which took my breath away for a moment. His hand was still squeezing my boob as he kissed along my shoulder, then it slid down over the front of my dress, leaving me still hanging out of my bra as his touch moved lower still.
My hands were wrapped around his shoulders, pulling his head into the crook of my shoulder as his hand found the slit in my dress. He pulled it to one side and, before I could object - even if I had the willpower to stop him, which I didn’t - his fingers were inside my panties, brushing against my lower lips. He suddenly hooked them around and pulled them down.
I was shocked how aroused I was. I didn’t know whether it was the drink, or just a case of being lost in the moment, but I actually helped him by kicking my knickers off my ankle, and opening my thighs slightly so he could feel me. He had pushed himself away just slightly and I remember seeing his face, lit by moonlight, gazing at my exposed breast and then looking down at the fine tangle of hair between my legs.
His finger was inside me, and I was embarrassed at how wet I felt already. I couldn’t look him in the eye, but I didn’t need to because he dipped his head to my breast, sucking on my nipple as his fingers alternated between fucking me and rubbing my clit.
My head was completely in a spin. What the hell was I doing? This is what I wanted to do with Brian, but this wasn’t Brian. This was an almost complete stranger. But it was too late to stop, and my body was responding to him and the situation in a way I hadn’t felt since the early days with my husband.
I fumbled at Lee’s belt. There wasn’t any going back. He paused from what he was doing to help me, leaving my pussy aching for him to continue, then I was pulling his trousers and boxer shorts down, until his penis sprung out. It was already hard, which delighted me - my body had him turned on! He was bigger than either of my previous two lovers as well, not that much longer but at first glance he certainly seemed thicker and the end seemed bigger. I had never really found penises to be attractive things, but the sight of this big, erect cock pointing at me and obviously hungry to fuck me, was a huge turn on at that moment in time.
I wrapped my hand around it, pulling it forward and backwards and enjoying how hard I had got him as he pushed me back against the wall, my bare breast forgotten as his hand went back to playing with my clit as we kissed again. Lee’s hand tangled itself in the hair behind my head then I felt him pushing me down. A not very subtle hint at what he wanted me to do, but I didn’t care. I fell to my knees willingly, and let him guide my head to his groin.
I remember the cold, damp gravel digging into my knees as I took him in my mouth. The little stones were wet and sharp but I didn’t say anything. I had another man’s cock in my mouth and a very strange feeling came over me for the first time.
This wasn’t right. I was married and yet I had another man’s aroused penis in my mouth, and was quite willingly sucking it, even enjoying it. I’d never really enjoyed giving head that much, to be honest, and yet maybe because of the naughtiness of it; possibly because it was so hard, and I had made it that way, I was loving it. Lee had hold of my head still, and was shoving into my mouth, making me half-gag a couple of times, but still I kept sucking and licking his cock. I wanted him to enjoy it. I wanted to impress him, but why? He was no-one to me.
But it did feel wrong. Was this the feeling Brian had felt, but which had stopped him before we even did anything? Why hadn’t this feeling of wrongness stopped me? Why was I still sucking this stranger’s now rock-hard cock?
Because Brian had spurned me? Made me feel rejected. Then my husband has shown a lack of desire for me. But Lee, this lovely young man, obviously wanted me. He hadn’t rejected me. He had embraced me; he wanted me and now I was his.
I let him take me there. In the cold, damp, wet garden, Lee told me to get up, and I did. Pieces of grit were still stuck in my knees, and I wondered if my stockings had torn but I didn’t have time to look. I was turned around so that my back was to him, and I bent over easily as he lifted my dress up, flipping it on to my back as I looked at the wall in front of me. His hard cock was pressing against me for a second, then it slid inside in one movement, which made me gasp.
That was it. I had cheated on Paul. And yet, it felt good. I didn’t hate him. I didn’t resent him. It wasn’t an attack on him at all. I had a need inside, and the man behind me, beginning to fuck me deep and hard was fulfilling it.
His hands were on my hips, and he fucking me from behind hard and fast and I knew it wouldn’t last long, but I didn’t want it to. It wasn’t like we were in bed and I wanted to be made love to. This was sex like I’d never had sex before. Crude, rough and animal-like and it felt shockingly good. My hands were on the wall in front of me, but a couple of times he drove into me so hard that my face was pressed into the brickwork. I didn’t care. A hand of his found my hair again, twisting it and pulling my head back as he took me. I loved it. When he let go, I looked down between my legs to see him push a couple more times, his rhythm suddenly erratic as he came inside me.
Luckily, I was on the contraceptive pill, because he never gave me warning and even so, I was in a world of my own as well, so I never even thought about it, or about safe sex. These days I always play things safe, until I get to know a lover well enough to trust them, but I guess the rawness of that first encounter with Lee made it even more enjoyable.
I kept looking down, for some reason entranced by the sight of his balls hanging down, all of his penis buried inside me, pulsing to the rhythm of his heartbeat. I love that feeling still - the feeling of sperm flooding into me, and the stiffening and then softening of the cock delivering it deep in to my vagina. Everything was so wet and cool as we stopped. His cum dribbled from me as he took a slightly shaky step backwards, and fastened himself up, and when I had caught my breath, I felt around on the floor for my discarded panties and then pulled them on in silence.
“That was amazing,” Lee said softly, looking around to make sure no-one had seen us, and I stepped into him once I’d straightened my dress up and kissed him. I was grateful for the cuddle and the kiss he gave me back. I felt so vulnerable at that moment. The initial rush had gone, leaving a lovely warm satisfied feeling, but guilt was filling the void. He walked me back to the party, but I had to stop once more, to remove my stockings which had torn on both knees.
I didn’t stay long. One drink and then I left. Lee gave me his number, and we had a discreet kiss outside but I escaped him and the other guests as quickly as I could. I had an awful paranoid feeling that people knew what I had been up to, even if they hadn’t noticed that I was now missing my stockings, I was certain that I was blushing so much that someone might as well have written ‘SLUT’ on my forehead, but when I got home I didn’t feel much better.
Would Paul somehow know? Would I give it away that I had just cheated on him? Had Lee worn aftershave? Had it rubbed off on me? I didn’t want to lose my marriage. What had I done?
As soon as I got in, I went in the shower, making the excuse that I stunk of cigarette smoke, and luckily Paul didn’t question me. I came downstairs as he was going up to bed, and I even waited for a little while for him to fall asleep before I went up. I knew he would ask me about the party, and as inebriated as I still was, I didn’t trust myself to be able to talk to him without giving something away.
An hour later I was laid in bed, next to my sleeping husband, but I couldn’t sleep. At first I lay there feeling bad, but surprisingly, I also felt strangely exhilarated, the more I thought about what I had done. The sex had been impulsive and unexpected, which had made it into something I’d never experienced before and though I tried to deny it to myself that night, deep down I knew I wanted to do it with Lee again. Perhaps even someone else.
I couldn’t stop reliving it in my mind, and my hand slid down to my pussy. I’d showered, but I was still a little wet from Lee’s cum yet it didn’t stop me masturbating while thinking of his hard cock fucking me. I was almost about to cum, when Paul’s hand suddenly appeared on my breast. I froze, then yanked my hand out of my pyjama bottoms, fearing that he had caught me playing with myself, but if he had any inkling then he didn’t let on. His arm encircled me, drawing me to him and then he kissed me.
He wanted to make love! Why couldn’t he have felt like this last night? Then tonight might never have happened. I wanted to stop him, I was scared the moment his finger sought out my pussy that he would wonder why it was so wet, but I just let him play with me. I was holding my breath, I was that frightened but to stop him would only arouse suspicion. I let him think I was just wet from being horny. I felt so bad as we undressed each other, and nervous again as his cock slipped into my soaking wet hole, but when he didn’t say anything, I wrapped my legs around him and tried to please him the best I could.
It felt so weird. Paul was fucking my pussy, and had no idea that just a couple of hours before, another man’s cock had been in there, a bigger and harder cock, using his wife’s pussy without his permission, and filling it with cum. Paul was unwittingly fucking that man’s cum, there would still be traces of it inside me, and now on his own cock. That thought turned me on immensely and the orgasm that suddenly rocked through me took me totally by surprise.
I clung on to him as I came, urging him to fuck me harder, secretly wanting his cock to be bigger and harder inside me as Lee’s had been, then Paul came too, filling me with my second lot of sperm in one night. That thought brought a pang of guilt, made worse when he whispered, ‘I love you,’ into my ear before rolling off me and going to sleep.
‘I love you too,’ I whispered back. It was the truth. I did love him. But in that moment, I knew that as much as I had ever loved him, he could never ever keep me completely satisfied ever again.
That began a night of soul searching. I hardly slept all night and when I did, it felt like I’d only been asleep mere moments before the alarm clock made me sit bolt upright in bed. Paul had already left. I had a brief, hazy recollection of him waking me and kissing me good bye. I could hear the cleaner and Elaine, the nanny, talking. My daughter, Scarlett was up and about so I had overslept a little, but I needed it. I went downstairs, wrapped up in my dressing gown and had a cup of tea and a bit of breakfast, surprised that I wasn’t too hungover, but I did retire back to bed for another nap near lunch, after having my shower.
I only meant to have a half-hour or so, but when the nanny shook me awake to say she was going to take Scarlett out to our local play centre, I was grateful and let myself get under the covers for another little sleep.
Then she shook me awake again. But hold on, that wasn’t the nanny. It was a man’s voice. What was Paul doing home? The confusion of sleep suddenly left me, and I sat bolt upright in bed. It was Brian.
“I let myself in,” he apologised for startling me. “No one was answering, and when I tried the door it was open, so I got a little worried for a moment.” He was averting his eyes from me as he spoke and I realised that my dressing gown was wide open and the bed covers had fallen back as I had sat up. My breasts were almost totally exposed to him, so I quickly pulled the robe shut as I climbed out of bed.
“I’m sorry,” I yawned, trying to act cool. “I completely forgot you were coming today.” Brian looked very sexy. He was dressed in a shirt and tight jeans rather than his usual gym clothes, and I remembered he had come over to talk rather than a workout session.
“I should leave you to get dressed?” he said, phrasing it as a question and oddly he made no move to leave the bedroom, instead standing there with a half-smile on his face.
What was this? Firstly Paul resists my advances, then decides to want me a day too late, and now all of a sudden after rejecting me horribly and setting me on this course of events - which had led me to cheat on my husband - Brian decides to be all forward and flirty again?
I was angry, and yet I felt a little flutter in my chest, and a little tightness and wetness in my groin at the realisation that Brian had once seen me totally naked. Any hangover I had been feeling had gone. I felt clear headed and fresh after my sleep, but I also had that slight horniness that I often do when I first wake up from a refreshing sleep.
I smiled, but felt so uncertain. If I flirted, wouldn’t he just reject me again?
“I do need to get dressed,” I said, glancing towards the door after making my mind up to reject him as he had done to me.
“I’ve seen it all before, remember?” he said with a grin as he walked out, then looked over his shoulder as he paused at the doorway.
“Are you teasing me?” I asked, “That’s mean.” Anger got the better of me. “You completely embarrassed me the other day when I came on to you. I felt this big,” I said, holding my finger and thumb an inch apart, “And now you flirt with me and tease me? That’s not nice.”
Brian turned around in the doorway to face me, opening his mouth to speak but before he could get a word out, I screamed at him. All of my guilt and upset came flooding out in a tumultuous tirade towards him, and he took a slight step back. It all came out, how he’d built up all of my confidence and then crushed it by leading me on and complimenting me and then rejecting me like that. How he’d been lying all the time about finding me attractive and sexy, and how stupid I felt that I’d lapped it all up. Had he manipulated me just to motivate me and earn off me?
“You really think that of me?” Brian said when I finally ran out of words to throw at him.
“You don’t know what you’ve done,” I whimpered. I was blaming him for everything, which wasn’t really fair, but my mind was a mess. I didn’t tell him about Lee - how could I?
Brian didn’t ask what that meant, so I didn’t have to explain. “Claire, you have no idea...” The black man seemed to be struggling for words, but he stepped back in to the room and closed the door behind him. I was sitting on the bed, my head in my hands but I was aware of him as he approached me and squatted down to talk.
His finger lifted my chin, so my face was looking in to his. He did have the most gorgeous green eyes - they stood out against his dark skin - and there was nothing in them but sincerity as he spoke.
“Listen,” he said softly, “I’ve found you attractive since I first met you. Who wouldn’t? You’re beautiful.”
“Shut up,” I mumbled, even though the words were lovely, I didn’t need to hear any more of his bullshit. He’d caused enough damage already.
“No, I won’t shut up,” he said firmly, but I cut him off before he could carry on with his flattery.
“You will shut up, Brian,” I declared defiantly, “You might think I’m beautiful or whatever, but I don’t want to be beautiful. I want to be sexy. I want to be wanted. Desired. I wanted you not to be able to resist me.” Something changed in Brian’s face, I don’t know what but he was looking at me different, but I didn’t slow down.
“I didn’t want a relationship or anything. I just wanted you to want me, but I was stupid,” I laughed at what a fool I was, and how ironically I was making an even bigger fool of myself by confessing all of this to my personal trainer, “I don’t know what I was thinking. As though a man like you - someone who could have any woman they want - as though you would want someone like me...”
My self-pitying rant ran out of steam then, and I looked into Brian’s eyes after a moment, when he didn’t reply. “So what do you want?” he said, in a voice so quiet I could hardly hear him.
I shrugged, then started to cry. Brian leaned forward, took me in his arms and hugged me, but then something happened. I don’t know why, but our faces turned towards each other and our lips were suddenly pressed together.
We were kissing. Not just kissing, but practically eating each other. It all happened so fast.
Brian broke the kiss after what felt like an eternity, and completely took charge. He pushed me backwards on to the bed, and opened my robe. I lay there, completely submissive as he took his shirt off, gazing at my exposed pussy and breasts while he did so. Then as he unzipped his trousers, he dipped down and kissed the inside of my thighs.
I stared up at the ceiling as his wet kisses trailed upwards to my pussy. How the hell was this happening? Just two days ago I had been just a married wife and mother of two, faithful if just slightly naughty for having some forbidden fantasies, and now I’d fucked a complete stranger and was being licked by another man.
As Brian’s tongue found my clitoris, any such thoughts were driven out of my mind by what he was doing. It was utterly exquisite, and I orgasmed within minutes of going down on me. As soon as I did, Brian stood up and I saw him naked for the first time.
I was blown away. His body was as a man’s should be. His arms were thick and muscled, his torso ridged and hard, and while his penis wasn’t that much bigger than Paul’s (probably roughly the same size as Lee’s) but he had trimmed his black pubic hair to just a fuzz above his cock which made it look larger. He was already very hard, and curved upwards slightly. Perhaps because it was also the first black cock I’d ever seen, it just looked the more impressive. I remember feeling slightly apprehensive as he pulled my bottom to the edge of the bed, then put his cock against my pussy but I didn’t get a chance to voice my reservations. With one movement, he was inside me, and it felt good.
Brian had my legs held upwards, a strong hand around either ankle, and he pulled my legs wide apart as he fucked me, seeming to pull me on to him with every forward stroke. I had never been fucked like this before, and my mind and body were totally as one in wanting him. I became completely compliant to him as he rolled me on to my front, spreading my legs and fucking me from behind, even more aggressively than Lee had, then when he urged me to get on top of him on the bed, I completely forgot about my wobbly bits and insecurities. I was lost in the moment, and just wanted to make his big cock cum inside me.
I very rarely ever made love to Paul on top. I hated how it made my body look. My large breasts bounced everywhere, and I hated it when he put his hands on my hips and felt my fat. My belly would wobble and I just couldn’t relax enough to overcome my self-consciousness and enjoy the sex, but with Brian it was different. His hands and mouth were on my tits, sucking and biting my nipples as I rocked on top of him, feeling his cock push deep inside me.
Brian was talking dirty, I know that, but I couldn’t tell you what he was saying, I was lost so far in the sex. Afterwards, when he finally exploded inside me, and I rolled off onto the bed at the side of him, panting to get my breath back, he was tender and loving. Kissing me and holding me, and tracing the edge of my face with his finger. It was perfect. He wrapped a strong black arm around me and I fell asleep for a little while, before suddenly jumping up when we heard Elaine calling my name.
“I’m just in the bedroom,” I called, dashing about to find my dressing gown, “I’ll be down shortly.”
“Shit,” said Brian, but he was grinning as he calmly got dressed.
“Shit indeed!” I said, slightly panicky, but after a few moments, we managed to find a way for Brian to escape the house without the nanny seeing him.
“See you on Wednesday?” Brian whispered to me as he slipped out of the back door.
“For training or...?” I giggled, kissing him on the cheek.
“Both, if you’d like?” he chuckled, and I felt myself going bright red for some reason. I was still blushing furiously long after he’d gone. I couldn’t believe what had happened, and how submissive I had been. It took me the rest of the day to get over the sex. By tea time that night, I’d been thinking of it so much that I was horny again and by the time I got in bed, I had to orgasm, so I got out my dildo and used it wantonly on myself, fucking myself with it and imagining it was Brian, then holding it on my clit while remembering how his tongue had felt, and how he’d made me cum so hard.
As I finally dropped off to sleep that night, after another strong orgasm, I knew that everything was different. I had no idea of the wholesale changes those two days would bring into my life, and how my future was about to change, but I knew that I had to do this again.
Sex with Paul was nice, but I didn’t want nice anymore. I wanted to be wanted and used like both Lee and Brian had done to me. I knew I would fuck Brian again on Wednesday and I did. And I called Lee a week later and met up with him for more fast and frantic sex in his car on some country lane.
I had awakened sexually. I felt happier and more content than I ever had in my life. The only thing that I felt uncomfortable about was lying to Paul when he came home, but I didn’t see it as lying. I was simply omitting the truth. Keeping the truth from him, but it was for his own good. I could have left him - I could have moved on and looked for a partner who could fulfil me in bed, but what was the point? I had everything I needed, to change it would just affect the kids, and Paul’s happiness.
And so, inexorably, I began on the route that would lead me to being Curvy Claire.