The Ex

Once again thanks to Millie for her infinite patience and expert editing

His Story.

As I donned my dressing gown I glanced, almost drunkenly, at the alarm clock; the flashing green light showed 01.53. The storm still raged outside, rain pelted the window as the bell sounded again more persistently this time. I was still only half awake as I reached the door to see her standing there, in the dim light almost unrecognisable from the girl I once knew. The long dark hair, of which she was so proud, hung like rat's tails over the collar of her trench coat, but it was her face that commanded my attention. What little make-up she wore was smudged and streaked, painting her face grotesquely in shades of blue and gray. I didn't speak; I could only stare at this caricature of my ex-wife.

As Claire spoke her words were almost carried away by the ferocity of the wind.

"I'm sorry, I had nowhere else to go," she sobbed.

As I looked at her my heart almost melted, almost but not quite.

"What do you want; do you know what time it is?" I asked, my anger taking over from my surprise.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, as if those two words would wipe out all the pain she had caused me or turn the clock back to those idyllic days when we had first met.

I realised that whatever differences we had I couldn't leave her standing there and I moved to one side in a silent invite. She slipped passed me, staring at the ground as she entered. Where, I thought, was the arrogance of two years ago when she left? Her parting words echoing in my ear, burning themselves indelibly into my brain, "Half of all this is mine, and I'm having it," she had said.

Was that really the same woman who stood in front of me now, dirty, dishevelled . . . pathetic?

"There are such things as hotels you know", I spat at her.

Her sobbing increased as she sat on the couch, the one we had selected so carefully together.

"I have no money," Claire mumbled, her face creased up as more crying racked her body violently.

"But you had, God only knows, how many thousands after the divorce, where has it all gone?"

"He's gambled it away, there's nothing left."

I felt the rage rising inside me and my hands shaking as I stared incredulously at her.

"All the fuckin' money I worked so hard for, you gave it to him, knowing what he was like? Are you a fuckin' idiot or what?"

Tears poured down her face as she clenched and unclenched her hands. She didn't answer.

I took a cigarette from a packet on the small coffee table, not offering her one even though I knew she smoked. I wasn't feeling terribly generous at that moment. Compassion, if not forgiveness, took over as I inhaled deeply feeling a coughing fit developing which I managed to suppress.

"You can stay, but only tonight."

She didn't answer as she stepped by me and, however sorry I felt for her at that moment, I couldn't resist a parting shot.

"You know where the spare room is, don't you? The one I occupied for days on end, or should I say nights?"

She paused half way up the stairs as I watched her.

"May I have a shower?" she whispered, without turning.

"Do what you want," I snapped back at her, "but just be gone in the morning".

She nodded and continued up to the landing.

I returned to the lounge and slumped into my favourite armchair and closed my eyes.

'What the fuck have I done?" I thought. I had just started to get my life back on track after the, somewhat, messy divorce; then suddenly she was back, like the proverbial bad penny. At this moment I saw Claire as some frightened, vulnerable child, desperate for reassurance but I knew I had to be 'hard', she'd hurt me before and I no intention of allowing her to do it again.

As I turned off the light I heard the shower start and, as I climbed the stairs, the gushing of water. I crossed the landing and noticed she had left the bathroom door partly ajar, as she used to. I glanced in and watched her through the frosted glass of the cubicle. Even with the details distorted I could see she was still as she had always been gorgeous, tall, lithe, her dark hair cascading down onto her shoulders and part way down her back. I groaned inwardly as I felt my cock stirring under my dressing gown. "Not again," I thought. "Please, God, not again."

As I once again snuggled down under the warm sheets I was more determined than ever not to be suckered into falling for her. I was still thinking that as I drifted towards sleep and felt her creep in alongside me, her body moulding itself to mine as she pushed herself tight into my back. I ignored her as I plucked up the courage to ask, no, tell her to go. But as she rested her head against my back and I felt her full breasts pushing into me my anger crept from the bedroom in much the same way as she had crept into it, and animal lust took its place.

Her hand slipped down to my waist, over my hips and onto my already hard erection, but as she moved the loose skin up and down my shaft I still had enough will power left to realise that for the first time in years it was me who had the upper hand, tonight I would dictate what happened. I smiled as I recalled all the things I wanted to do that she denied me in the past. Well, tonight would be mine.

Her story.

I could see that the house was in total darkness, even with the wind and rain lashing at my face, and I was confused, He said he would be in, waiting for me. I had completed the delivery he sent me on, it had taken all day, but I didn't mind and he did promise to have dinner waiting for me and a little play time later. With his recent lack of interest in sex it was something I could look forward to, after all, he hadn't touched me in at least two months. Although I did get worried, I knew he had money problems, he swore things would get better, just one big win that was all it would take and everything would be ok again. Stupidly I believed him.

I took the key from my pocket and tried to open the door, when nothing happened I noticed the lock was new, shiny; it had been changed. Panic took over from confusion and I staggered to the rear of the house to find a scrap of paper pinned to the door.

''Hi, sorry got to go, the bastards want their money, sold furniture but still nowhere near enough. May see you again but if not it was fun. Barry."

I read it twice before the full implication sunk in. I was penniless with no friends and nowhere to go.

I don't remember much about the next hour or so. Only that I must have walked for miles in the awful weather and I found myself outside the house I once shared with my ex-husband until Barry came onto the scene. Luckily there was a bus shelter opposite to protect me from the storm and I stood for a long time, plucking up the courage to walk the few yards to his door, The last few months we were together I had treated him abysmally and I could guess what would happen if I asked him for help. He'd humiliate me and I would deserve it.

The sex we had had at its best had been mind blowing and at its worse less than ordinary. I knew Will well enough to understand that the way back into his affections was through the bedroom; but I had to plan this carefully. I could afford no mistakes.

I walked first to an all-night chemist around the corner, mixing with the junkies and prostitutes to purchase what I was sure I'd need, and again found myself standing at the end of the drive.

It was nearly two a.m., when I stood outside the door and pushed hard on the button. The wind and rain seemed to sense my actions and were determined to punish me one last time leaving me colder and wetter than I'd been all evening.

God only knows what I must have looked like as I waited patiently for him and when the door eventually opened his reaction was no surprise. He was always a sucker for tears so I turned on the 'waterworks', not that it took that much effort. He agreed to let me stay that night; I knew he would; now it was time to put my plan into action.

I left the door of the bathroom open while I showered, I could almost feel his eyes on me. As soon as I heard his bedroom door close I dried myself and hunted around in my shoulder bag for the tube of lubricant, He always wanted to fuck my arse and I always denied him, but tonight he would get his way, I had little choice.

I took a small amount of KY jelly and using first one then two fingers lubricated my tight channel, as much as I could, it did feel good, but not as good as my usual opening. I removed all traces from the outside and crossed the landing, peeping in I could see he was asleep, or almost, and crept in. Sneaking into bed alongside him I allowed my hand to drift down, his cock was already hard, I smiled, the first part of my plan completed.

His Story.

I took her hand from me, none too gently and, as I turned towards her, pushed it downwards towards her groin, watching in the dim glow from the landing light as she hesitatingly began to masturbate. I threw what remained of the sheet covering us onto the floor and turned on the bedside light; this I was determined to see. Claire was always too embarrassed to pleasure herself in front of me feeling that if she wanted to wank she'd do it alone, but tonight that was a luxury I wouldn't allow her. I could see the look of shame on her face as her fingers played around her clit; I was enjoying this, almost too much.

I rested myself up onto my elbow and stared into her face, only occasionally glancing down to watch her movement; her expression of disgust at herself seemed to be growing, or was it my imagination? I inched myself up the bed until my cock was touching her lips and her hand left her pussy and encircled my shaft. As I pushed her hand away and back to her slit I trapped her other arm beneath me, I would control how much of my cock went inside her mouth, not her.

The look of pleading on her face as I ran my cock over her lips and into her mouth should have made me relent, I suppose, but it didn't. As I pushed deeper her hand once more came up and rested against my stomach to prevent me feeding her too much of my, by now, rock hard erection. I moved it back down as I began to fuck her mouth slowly, each push going deeper until I felt, and heard, her gag on me. I pulled back a little; I didn't want to hurt her, at least not physically.

I noticed her hand at her pussy had stopped moving so I covered it with my own and used her fingers to again rub at her clit. Then, embarrassment on embarrassment, I slid two of her fingers, along with mine, deep into her cunt and began to finger fuck her.

As she gagged once more on me I realised I had better stop. Anyway, phase one was over, now to begin phase two of 'the humiliation of Claire'.

As I pulled my cock out of her mouth and fingers from her pussy I could see the relief on her face. I knew she would expect me to cover her now and take her in the age-old missionary position, the only one she used to allow but not tonight.

I eased her onto her front, feeling first her reluctance, but eventually her acceptance of what was about to happen. As she positioned herself on all fours I slipped my cock deep inside her wet slit in one movement. It surprised me, a little, that she seemed so aroused and that her pussy was gripping my shaft almost lovingly as I drove into her. I reached around and once more pulled her hand down to caress her own clit, my fingers working along side hers, as I pushed my cock ever deeper into her.

I pulled back from her, my cock leaving her pussy and finding itself at her tightest opening. I felt her tense beneath me and for a second wondered if I was right in doing this, after all she came to me for help and here I was about to ravish her tight arse. I should at least use a lubricant, I thought, but it didn't stop me. The head of my cock was almost in her when I felt her go rigid, a quiet moan escaped from her, and for once my conscience took over. I was about to pull away when she rose up pushing her back against my front and driving my cock high into her tight channel.

She slumped back down with my cock still buried deep into her. As I fucked her in that place she had always denied me all thoughts of revenge disappeared, only the incredible sensations remaining. With my balls on the brink of bursting I flooded her with my seed, jet upon jet flying high into her.

As we fell forward onto the bed together my cock plopped out of her and I watched as a stream of cum escaped from her, dripping onto the sheet. Not a word had passed between us during our 'love-making', a little like old times, and I once again began to wonder what the fuck had I done.

I drifted into a deep sleep with her clamped to my back and a little voice echoing in my mind, 'You fuckin' idiot'.

Her Story.

For the first time, as my hand encircled his shaft, I began to worry that he may have developed some kind of proclivity since our parting; something even at my lowest ebb I couldn't bring myself to do. God, what if he had got into piss drinking, or worse, what would I do then? I knew it was too late to back out now, I would have to 'bite the bullet', I was his tonight, or so he would believe.

As he forced my hand down I knew what he wanted. I was never comfortable masturbating in front of him, but I expected this and as I let my fingers play about my hardening nub I felt my juices start to flow inside me. He was staring at me as I wanked and I tried to put as much distain onto my face as I could, although I was becoming more aroused by the second. Why I had never done this for him before I couldn't imagine; but I was making up for lost time now.

As he moved up the bed to push his erection close to my lips I couldn't wait to suck on him, but I knew I had to be patient. The last thing I wanted was for him to realise that the girl that had left him two years ago was not the one that came back, Barry ensured that. He taught me so much about sex, and the pleasure it could bring, these actions were what I had grown used to.

As Will's cock pushed into my mouth I had to repress a contented sigh and, as he was much less well-endowed that Barry, I found I could easily take all of him deep into my mouth. I had long ago suppressed my gagging reflex but somehow I had to conjure it up again, just for him. I think I must have overacted a little because, after a few thrusts, he removed his cock and as much as I wanted him back in my mouth I knew I had to let him take the lead.

As he began to push me onto my front I realised how glad I was to have lubricated my arse as I knew that was where he was intending to go. I positioned myself on all fours and waited but surprisingly his cock slid into my wet pussy. This was an unexpected turn of events, and for a while I was concerned that he would be shocked at how aroused I was, but it didn't seem to register with him. I tried to grip him tighter to overcome my wetness, but he still moved so easily inside me. He moved my hand back onto my clit where I was desperate for it to be, but I feigned resistance. Will was thrusting so fast and so deep into me I began to wonder if I had misjudged him in lubricating my arse until I felt him withdraw and position his cock a little higher.

I had learned to love a good arse fuck from Barry and waited expectantly for him to push into me. As the head went inside I knew I shouldn't have but my own animal passion took over and I pushed myself back against him, feeling his cock slide inside, into my very depths. It felt so good as he thrust into me, and suppressing my orgasm took all the will I could muster. Luckily as I felt my resolve weakening I felt him shudder and his cum jetting into me.

I waited until he was asleep before I went to the bathroom to 'finish myself off'. Holding back my orgasm had been harder to accomplish than I could have believed and I desperately needed my release. When I returned to bed I snuggled into him and smiled, thinking how predictable this had been. The same old Will, cock driven, but through it all still a nice guy; how could I have been so stupid as to have left him; but now I was back, whether he knew it or not.

His Story.

I looked over my shoulder as I opened the car door and saw her waving at me through the kitchen window, a broad smile on her face. It was as if the clock had been turned back to those first idyllic years of our marriage, then my mind focused on the latter times when her arguments and bitchiness seemed to consume her. Everything I had done was wrong and just when it seemed I was free from her she was back and, strange as it may appear, I was happy . . . but she had to go. I knew I could not survive another acrimonious break-up. I would tell her to go tonight or maybe tomorrow, or when she finds somewhere to live. Yes, she definitely had to go.

Her Story.

I was washing the breakfast dishes when I saw him turn and wave at me. For a moment I could see the doubt on his face but he grinned, a little, as I waved cheerily at him. I knew that there was more work to do, far more, before I could wheedle my way back into his affections, but last night had been a great start. Will had left me a little money, so maybe some lingerie or an exciting 'toy' or maybe a porn DVD for tonight, he loved those. Everything was coming together, 'Like it or not, Will, I was back for good.'