A Faker's Progress Pt. 04

'Now fuck me', she whispered in my ear, 'fuck me harder than you've ever fucked anyone before.'

It was hard, raw fucking, not my usual preferred way of love-making, but it was precisely what was called for here. As I ploughed into her, she responded by pushing her cunt up to meet me, forcing me in as far as possible.

'Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, make me cum, make me cum, fill me up.'

Our fucking was primitive. My cock seemed to gain a life of its own and her moans and groans became incessant. She pressed her hands down on the bed and her body forced itself upward as, with a loud scream, she reached an almighty climax. I thrust into her even more vigorously and within moments I had the most intense orgasm I can ever remember as I emptied copious jets of my sperm into her body.

I collapsed on top of her, sweat pouring from the two of us, both of us fighting for breath. It took a long time before either of us was capable of speaking and by then both of us knew that it was better to say nothing.

*****

A few weeks later, on the eve of Rachel's wedding, she, Cassie, Amanda and I had dinner together at the Hall. After dinner, Amanda put her arms round me. 'Be good to my little sister', she said softly in my ear. Then she kissed me and left to return to the farm. Cassie came over and hugged me. 'Make it a night to remember for her', she whispered, 'just as I'll always remember mine.'

*****

The next day, Rachel looked radiant as she walked on her father's arm up the aisle of Sittaford church to be married to Jon. She looked a little tired too, but most of the guests no doubt put that down to her previous night's sleep being disrupted by excitement. Well, yes, but hopefully none of them imagined for a single moment what sort of excitement that was. Only Rachel and I knew for certain and neither of us will ever be telling.

*

Author's note: I gained inspiration for this story from two directions in particular. One was the fascinating life story of Tom Keating, an English art restorer and art forger who claimed to have faked more than 2,000 paintings by over 100 different artists during the 1960s and 1970s. He narrowly avoided prison because of his ill-health. The hero of my story is but a shadow of this remarkable rogue.

The other inspiration was the novel 'Love on a Branch Line' by John Hadfield (later made into a TV drama series) which tells the story of a civil servant sent to an English stately home to shut down an almost-forgotten government statistical unit that had been billeted there during World War 2, only for him to become deeply involved with the life and, more particularly, the women of the household. Although it is a very different story to mine, it is a lovely book and well worth a read.