The Hunt Goes On

The Hunt Goes On

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

A sequel to 'The Lady of the Hunt', the story moves on a few years. Tara is living in a leafy haven with her husband. Things couldn't be better until a series of events turn her life upside down. You will probably enjoy this more if you are familiar with 'The Lady of the Hunt', but you will get by without reading it first. This novel is work in progress, so dont expect it to be completed anytime soon. This is complete fiction. So dont try any of this stuff at home.

Summary

A sequel to 'The Lady of the Hunt', the story moves on a few years. Tara is living in a leafy haven with her husband. Things couldn't be better until a series of events turn her life upside down. You will probably enjoy this more if you are familiar with 'The Lady of the Hunt', but you will get by without reading it first.

This novel is work in progress, so dont expect it to be completed anytime soon.

This is complete fiction. So dont try any of this stuff at home.

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Lover

Author Chapter Note

A sequel to 'The Lady of the Hunt', the story moves on a few years. Tara is living in a leafy haven with her husband. Things couldn't be better until a series of events turn her life upside down. You will probably enjoy this more if you are familiar with 'The Lady of the Hunt', but you will probably get by without reading it first. <br /> <br /> This novel is work in progress, so dont expect it to be completed anytime soon. Sorry readers, but to some extent the level of responses will dictate how much effort goes into any new chapters.<br /> <br /> This is complete fiction. So dont try any of this stuff at home.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: December 18, 2013

Reads: 1378

Comments: 2

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: December 18, 2013

A A A

A A A

1.  The Lover

In a large, old house in Yorkshire, a widower flitted around his home, making a few adjustments to ornaments and straightening picture frames.  He checked his hair was neat again, then checked his breath. 

 

He was always like this when he was expecting Tara to visit him. 

 

It was 10 years since they had first made love and Doctor Peter Henman still felt like a giddy schoolboy whenever she was about to arrive.  How a woman like her had fallen for him, he had never known, but she had.  She was still married to her husband of course – he had tried to get her to change her mind on that, but she was resolute that her marriage was for life.

 

Tara occasionally bought her son – their son - with her to meet him.  They were wonderful days as well.  The zoo, or a football match or whatever, whilst having the pleasure of a hidden secret in front of his son that he and the boy’s mother were actually lovers.  The two children he had had with his wife had flown the nest years ago and were living far away with children of their own.  His son David always called him ‘Uncle Peter’ – Tara had decided not to reveal that he was actually his father but that was fine.  He was shooting up now – nine years old and football mad.  Peter wasn’t able to indulge that side of his personality, but had managed to instil a love for books, science, wildlife and nature in the boy.  He was going to grow up clever and handsome – he could do whatever he wanted with his life, and Peter aimed to help the boy any way he could.

 

He looked at one of the pictures of Tara and David on his mantelpiece.  It was a fairly recent one and Peter could almost see his own eyes looking back at him from the boy.  Tara had told him that David had been signed up to go to boarding school from the start of the next school year – it was a really good school, there was no doubt about it, but Peter had never enjoyed life in dormitories.  He would get a good education though.

 

He looked at another picture, this time of Tara holding David when he was only a few months old.  She was older now of course, more mature looking certainly, but still very beautiful.  He had been so lucky in life.  As a student he had found he had the looks and charm to talk most women into his bed, breaking hearts along the way, but to have 25 years with a loving wife, raising two children, then to find a new love with Tara and another wonderful child.  Who could want any more from life?

 

There was still about half an hour before she was due to arrive.  Had the clock stopped or something?  He felt himself becoming hard.  Would she mind if they just went straight to bed?  She might want a drink first – he could get one ready now and hand it to her as she walked in.

 

He caught himself acting like a love-struck schoolboy again and smiled.  He was briefly distracted by his mobile phone beeping to indicate a message had arrived, but as he stepped towards the phone, the doorbell rang.  Was she early?  He hurried to the door and opened it.  He was a little disappointed to find his housekeeper ‘Camille’.  She was a young, curvaceous mixed race woman, perhaps 25 years old.  She had answered an advert he had placed for a cleaner a few months before and was certainly efficient, although when she had first arrived it seemed like she was wearing low cut tops to accentuate her large bosom in order to seduce him.  He never regretted not taking the bait and she soon got the message, restricting herself just to the duties he asked of her.

 

“Hello Camille, it’s not your day today is it?  I have a guest arriving soon.”

Camille spoke with a strange, difficult to place foreign accent.  “Hello Doctor, I am so sorry, but I think I left my purse in your kitchen when I was here.  May I find it?  I promise to be gone before your lady friend arrives.”

Peter couldn’t remember mentioning that it was a female friend who was visiting, but thought nothing more of the remark.  “Of course, come in. Shall I help you to look?” 

“No no, I know where I put it.”

 

Camille walked past him and he shut the front door behind her.  The moment the lock engaged, he felt a cloth laced with a pungent chemical odour being held over his mouth.  As a doctor, he recognised it – Chloroform.  He sank to the ground, unconscious. 

 

***

Meanwhile, Tara was wondering why she had spent so many weeks learning to drive.  She used to go everywhere by train, first class of course, and she had enjoyed it.  She could walk around, go to the lavatory, have a drink.  She had had sex on a train more than once.  Instead, here she was, in a top of the range four wheel drive car, on the motorway, looking at the back of the same car not moving in front of her.  To her left, a lorry driver was incessantly picking his nose and to her right a young man in an old heap appeared to be getting a blowjob from his boyfriend.  She needed to pee, and the car’s petrol light was flickering on.

It was Billy’s fault of course.  He had suggested she learn to drive so that she could ferry the kids around easier.

 

“Fucking idiot!” she swore, banging the steering wheel. She took a deep breath.  It wasn’t Billy’s fault.

 

She looked at her watch again.  Even if the traffic cleared right now she was never going to make it on time.  She sighed and reached for her mobile phone to send a text. 

“Peter - stuck in traffic on motorway.  Going to be late.  Missing you.  Sorry.  Love Tara.  xxx”

 

***

Tara finally arrived at Peter’s house over two hours late.  She parked the car and walked briskly up the path and let herself in with her key.  That in itself was odd as Peter usually waited by the window so that he could greet her.  She supposed that he had given up after the first hour. 

 

She could see the television was on as she entered the house, but as she neared the television she saw it was playing hardcore bondage porn – a man was pressing his penis down the throat of a bound woman and holding her nose until she was on the point of passing out, then he was letting her go, all the while, another man screwed her from behind. She was a little surprised as Peter had never shown any interest in porn, let alone breath play bondage.  Still, it was nice to discover something new about him even after all this time.

 

“Peter... I take it you are feeling frisky?”  she called, but there was no answer.  “Maybe you want me to smother you with my pussy?”  she called again, feeling a tingle of anticipation.  She walked further into the room.  The groans of the cast of the porn video were quite loud in the room, and she watched the video a little more.  The woman’s face was streaked with mascara and when the man withdrew from her throat she spluttered then begged in German for more.  Did Peter really like this stuff?

 

It was then that she sensed there was someone else in the room.  She turned and saw a naked man sprawled on the carpet, a clear plastic bag was taped around his head.  The roll of tape was nearby.  She recognised a vibrator they sometimes used together was slowly whirring inside his rectum. It was Peter.

 

“What the hell are you doing Peter?  It is really dangerous to try this on your own – you should have waited.”  She rushed to him, but the moment she touched him she realised it was too late.  He was cold.  His limbs were becoming stiff.  She went through the formality of checking for a pulse but there was none.  He was gone.

Tara was taken back to a moment over 20 years before when she watched a man bleed to death in front of her.  Back then she had touched things she shouldn’t have done, then stole a car to get away.  She ended up in prison as a result.  She took her mobile phone and feeling numb, made a call.

“Hello Police?  I want to report a suspicious death.”

 

After giving her details, she ended the call then dashed to the toilet to puke.

 

In the background, the porn actress climaxed loudly.


© Copyright 2019 Andrew Jay. All rights reserved.

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