The Young Wife by Stephanie Calvin Read Free Book Online Page A

you will eat anything. The more wicked or perverse a thing is, the deeper you have to go to unlock it. I understand all this, with the benefit of hindsight, but at that time I was more innocent of the tricks a person’s mind can play.
    The kinkiness of what we had just done hit me then, and I stared at Anne in shocked surprise.
    â€˜I can’t believe we just did that, Anne,’ I gasped, and she squeezed my hand, before replying.
    â€˜I promised myself that I wouldn’t try to seduce you, Jessica. Please don’t think that’s what is happening. You don’t, do you?’ she continued.
    I sat in silence, while I gathered the courage to whisper to her, ‘You can, if you want to. I don’t mind.’
    I squeezed my thighs together, to still their trembling, and felt the sharp throb of excitement in my lower tummy lurch upwards, into my chest. Anne stared and stared, her eyes darkening as the pupils dilated, until I found my own eyes misting at the edges of their focus, as I tried to read the thoughts that whirred behind those black mirrors.
    â€˜Do you want to come to my room?’ she asked, and the question split the silence like the cracking of a whip.
    I felt my insides soar with sick delight as I answered, ‘Yes’, and we rose unsteadily, circling round the table towards each other, like tigers entering a jungle clearing. The last steps before I touched her felt like they were drawn out in time, and I watched my own hand, like a stranger’s, drift trembling to her chest. The first contact set off little rockets of activity in the back of my skull, like sharp, cold water from a shower. I couldn’t think, and the actions of my body were instinctive and immediate. My free hand curled around her waist, and drifted up, under the edge of her jumper, along the warm, taut skin of her side. My fingers grazed the straps of her bra, and came to rest in the unfamiliar hollows of her back; my hand fluttered nervously against the ropy sinews of her lower spine, as I tilted my head for the touching of her lips. Her dark head moved in a blur to my throat, and the shock of her naked tongue against the delicate skin of my neck made me gasp. She licked urgently upwards to the edge of my jaw, then swooped her soft mouth over mine to gather up my expelled breath. Our lips rolled softly together, in the lightest of touches, until her quick and clever tongue slipped out between the rolling, coral-pink swell of her soft lips, and darted into my mouth. Surprise after surprise, but I went with the feelings that her probings had produced, and coiled my tongue around hers, in a clumsy dance of sudden heat and tingling. Her cheeks were cold, and the soft skin thrilled me where it brushed against my own. I started to roll her jumper up, and was surprised when she grasped my hands in hers, stopping me.
    â€˜Not here,’ she said, and drew me with her as she walked towards the stairs. ‘We must go to my room.’
    I made no protest, being content to let her lead me up the stairs, while I studied the lazy swinging of her hips and shoulders. Her bare feet whispered against the boards, making soft counterpoints to the swishing of her calico trousers. The trousers bunched in little puffs around the broad belt that held them up, but they were drawn up tight around the swell of her bottom, and the seam was buried deep between the tight cheeks. The rolled-up ends exposed the tanned flesh of her lower calves, with the flexing of the large tendon at her heels drawing my eyes to its ropy strength. The shadow of her slim legs showed in a patchy outline through the gauzy fabric, and I, unable to resist, stroked the firm curve of her hip.
    She paused to let me stroke her hips and lay my head against her lower back, and for a moment we stood awkwardly on the steps while I panted, in hushed excitement, against her spine. Then she resumed the stately upward progress, until we stood before the threshold of