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Peter farted noisily as he bent to remove his underpants.

Lesley tutted and rolled over so her back was to her husband. The sight of him was totally unappealing. He was quite good looking but in a weak way, there was a flabbiness in his face, she had observed the same look in many middle class men. He liked routine, he liked knowing that tomorrow would hold no surprises, he wanted life to unroll like a red carpet in front of him, everything going according to plan.

The scent of Vera still lingered in her nostrils, memories of the soft, skilled touch excited nerve endings.

"You looked horny tonight."

"How do you mean? I wasn't wearing make up or anything."

"You were - you know; something about you, like you were well up for it. Made me feel the same."

She remembered the last time they had made love, nearly three weeks before, and compared the technique with what she had enjoyed that afternoon. Peter had probably never been a great lover but when they had married he had seemed much the same as other young men she had known, impatient, selfish and hurried. The most noticeable difference lay in the male approach to nipples. Vera's careful fingers, gentle fingernails and flicking tongue had set the nerve endings on fire.

"When Peter gets at them he seems to think he should unscrew them," Lesley had confided.

The whole experience had been so different. Now the sweet taste of it would be soured by Peter's rough manner.

"Come on then," he said, climbing into bed and rolling to her side, pressing himself against her back and reaching round to grab both her breasts which he proceeded to knead as if he were a baking preparing dough for the oven.

"You haven't a fucking clue," Lesley breathed.


"You're a fucking great screw Pete." Her hand slid down to stimulate natures lubricant and she wondered if her thought foreplay referred to some kind of golf tournament.

Pete didn't need much encouragement and thrust forward without even the customary gesture of licking his fingers before roughly spreading Lesley's love lips. With a deft flick of her hips his wife managed to steer him into the correct orifice and then closed her eyes and thought of Vera's flicking tongue and probing fingers. She wondered what her dark lover was doing at that moment, pleasuring herself maybe, making use of one of the toys she had shown off but not used, promising to save them for another occasion. She hardly realised that her husband had finished his routine and rolled away until he said "you didn't come then?"

"Oh, er, not tonight. I'm a bit tired." But she was not tired and was still wide awake and hungry when Peter started snoring.

"To tell the truth I went to sleep hugging a pillow and pretending it was you."

"I'm flattered." Lesley looked at the older woman silhouette against the afternoon light that poured through the picture window of the modern executive home. Vera was truly magnificent, tall, slender and dark, with large light brown eyes and a wide mouth that showed none of that puckering Lesley's Dad had once said made so many middle aged women look like a dog's arse with a hat on, her bottom was firm, her waist still nipped and her breasts high and bouncy.

"Well that's a good start but why wouldn't I. Do you think I'm some kind of Lezza trollop who has another lover rolling into bed before the sheets get cold? Darling I've been fantasising about you for months. It would have broken my heart if you'd said your hubby was a great shag and you would never want anyone else."

Lesley crossed the room and tilting the taller woman's head downwards, kissed her.

"So you've been planning my seduction for ages you scheming witch."

Vera cupped her new lover's breasts, "I did what witches do, I waited patiently for the right moment. Ninety per cent of witching is patience."

"And I was hoping you would cast a spell over me."

"What, like this?" A front fastening brassiere was deftly unclipped and Vera did something magical as Lesley gently cupped her breasts. A few minutes later it dawned on them that their passionate embrace was framed in the large window and it would really be a good idea to move somewhere with better facilities and to draw the blinds. The executive house was big and expensive, it had every luxury but the minimalist decor and the pale colours of walls, floors and furniture made it a cold and forbidding arbour. It was a man's house rather than a woman's home. The cottage where they had made love the previous day with its soft reds, yellows and browns, its low - ceilinged intimacy and the jostling of beloved objects created a much more sensual atmosphere.

"Shall I show you the bedroom?"

"Yes please? But aren't you taking a risk. My car is outside. Nobody sees you coming and going at my place, nobody will remark on the blinds opening and closing."

"But I want you to lie with me in this bed. Sort of purify it."

"Oh dear, you are really unhappy."

The bedroom was less unwelcoming once the blinds were drawn and the two women were quickly naked and wrapped in each other's arms. Lesley had described the previous night's events and now with soft lips and gentle fingers Vera soothed away the indignities her partner's body had suffered, coaxing new and adventurous responses from the initiate into the cult of Sappho.

It was late afternoon and the light already fading when they left the bed and drew back the blind.

Skip to Season Of The Witch - Part 3


The Spirits Of Wycoller Sceptics scoff at the old man's stories of paranormal activity in an abandoned village and its ruined manor house. But when a group of young professionals decide to spend a night within the walls of the old house, the ghost hunters become the hunted. If anybody needs a reminder that it is always unwise to mess with the dark side they'll find it here. Fiction Menu Leonora (historical fiction) - Review
(Fction Partworks - all links lead to part one of a story) Season of the Witch - Part 1 (erotic content)
Mr Wilde's Farewell - Part 1 (comic fiction)
The Kiss - Part 1 (erotic fiction)
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