Chapter 3: Rolling the Dice

John pulled up to the house just after nine on the Friday morning, the familiar crunch of gravel under his tyres broke the silence once again. Yvonne had left early that morning for her sister's, kissing him goodbye with a reminder to "enjoy the peace and quiet." It was certain she did not know what kind of peace he was hoping for. Thank goodness wives could not read minds.

He let himself in with the key Jackie had given him, calling out as he pushed open the door. "Jackie? You here?"

Silence greeted him. The house felt empty, the morning sun streaming through the bare windows showing up all the new paintwork they had completed. John frowned, pulling out his phone to check for messages but there was nothing there yet. So, as he was here, it was time to get some work done. Would be easier without the distractions he had been made to enjoy the last couple of days. Those walls wouldn’t paint themselves.

He made his way upstairs to the office, the smallest room, one they'd been putting off. The walls were a dingy beige that needed two coats at least. John changed into his painting clothes, set up his supplies, and got to work. The rhythmic motion of the roller was soothing, but his mind kept wandering. Where was Jackie? Was she having second thoughts about yesterday? About them?

His phone buzzed in his pocket, making him jump. He set down the paint roller and pulled it out, his heart racing. It was a text from Jackie.

“Sorting something out on the home front. Won't be there today. Wish I was though. Sorry! X”

John quickly typed out a reply to her message into his phone.

“No worries, I'll crack on here and wish you were holding the roller next to me. X”

So much for today. And with Yvonne away as well, it could have been a very busy not doing much painting day. He went back to painting, trying to ignore the hollow feeling caused by her absence. But at least the painting was progressing with speed. Another full day after this should see it finished.

The morning dragged on, and the work flowed. John finished the first coat on the room when his stomach reminded him it was lunchtime and a good time to take a break before starting the final coat. That would be the last of the emulsion, just some woodwork to gloss and a couple of radiators to freshen up. He headed downstairs, washed his hands in the kitchen sink, and was pulling his sandwich from his bag when his phone rang.

Jackie's name flashed on the screen.

"Hey skiver," he answered, trying to keep his voice casual.

"John." Jackie's voice was warm but strained. "I'm so sorry about today. It's been a nightmare of a morning."

"Everything alright?"

"Tom's mother's been taken into hospital. Up in Yorkshire. Tom had to rush up there first thing this morning, and I had to sort out a couple of work things for him. She's had a fall and they're keeping her in for observation as she appears to have concussion. He won't be back until tomorrow at the earliest."

"Christ, I'm sorry. Is she going to be okay?"

"They think so, but you know how it is. She's eighty-three and lives alone. Tom's obviously worried about her." Jackie paused, and when she spoke again, her voice had changed, lower, more intimate. "Anyway, that means I'm home alone tonight. And Yvonne told me she was away too, isn't she?"

John's pulse quickened. "Yeah. At her sister's."

"So, we both have Friday night free." It wasn't a question. "Do you want to come over for a bite to eat tonight, maybe grab a takeaway and see how the evening unfolds. I'll be here. It will be just the two of us for a change. No rushing, no watching the clock."

"What time?" John asked, his mouth suddenly dry.

"How does Seven sound? Bring a bottle of that wine you like. I’ll have the glasses ready. Can you pick up a Chinese on the way over do you think. Or an Indian if you prefer?"

"For you, of course. I’ll check out the menus and sort that out."

"Perfect." He could hear the smile in her voice. "See you tonight, John. Now get painting slacker."

The line went dead as she ended the call before John could hit back. He stood in the empty kitchen, his sandwich forgotten, his cock already stirring at the thought of an entire night with Jackie. No interruptions. No excuses. No holding back. The rest of the day passed in a blur.

In no time at all, John added the second coat to the office walls, cleaned his brushes, and headed home to shower and change. He stood in front of his wardrobe for longer than he'd like to admit, finally settling on chinos and a polo shirt. Casual but not too casual. He splashed on aftershave, checked his reflection, and felt ridiculous. He was fifty years old, for Christ's sake, not some teenager on a first date.

But his hands were shaking as he drove to the off-licence, as he picked out a bottle of red wine, and then he stopped at the Chinese takeaway to pick up the order he had placed online after his shower. By the time he pulled up outside Jackie's house, a neat semi-detached in a quiet cul-de-sac, his heart was beating loudly against his ribs.

He grabbed the wine and the takeaway bags from the passenger seat, got out of the car and walked up to the front door. Before he could knock, it swung open. Jackie stood in the doorway wearing a simple black dress that hugged her curves, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. She looked stunning. Their eyes met, and for a moment neither of them moved.

Then Jackie stepped forward, her hand grabbing his trouser belt, and pulled him inside. The door closed behind them shutting out the world as her mouth found his, hungry and desperate. John dropped the takeaway bags on the hall table, the wine bottle somehow making it safely down beside them, and his hands were in her hair, on her waist, pulling her against him.

"Fuck, I've been thinking about this all day," Jackie gasped between kisses, her hands roaming over his chest, his shoulders, his back. I can’t believe how lucky we have been to both be free on the same night.

"Me too," John groaned as her hand slid down to cup his erection through his jeans. "Careful Jackie, don’t want the wine to pop its cork to soon."

She squeezed him through his trousers, and John's hips bucked involuntarily. He walked her backwards until her back hit the wall, his mouth moving to her neck, tasting her skin. Jackie's head fell back, her breath coming in short gasps. She moaned with involuntary pleasure as John's hand found her right nipple through the thin fabric of her dress.

"Oh John, I want you so badly, but first maybe we should eat our food before it gets cold."

John pulled back, his breathing ragged. Jackie's lips were swollen from kissing, her cheeks flushed, and he'd never wanted anyone more in his life. But she was right. They had all night and would probably need the energy before it was over.

"Kitchen?" he managed.

Jackie nodded, smoothing down her dress with shaking hands. She led him through to the kitchen, a cosy space with modern wood faced cabinets and a small table by the window. John unpacked the takeaway while Jackie found plates and cutlery, and they sat down to eat. The food was good, but John barely tasted it. He was too aware of Jackie sitting across from him, of the way she licked sweet and sour sauce from her fingers, of the heat in her eyes every time their gazes met. They made small talk, about Tom's mother, about Yvonne's sister, about the progress on the house, but the real conversation was happening in the loaded silences, in the brush of their feet under the table.

When they'd finished, Jackie stood and started clearing the plates. John helped, and as he set his plate in the sink, Jackie turned to him with a mischievous smile.

"Ever played strip poker?" she asked.

John laughed. "Never. Don't know the rules of poker."

"Well, I’m not going to waste time teaching you tonight, we better play with dice then." Jackie opened a drawer and pulled out two dice from a game box in there, setting them on the kitchen table. "Simple rules. We both roll. Lower score loses an item of clothing of their choice."

"You've thought this through," John said, amused.

"I've had all day to think." Jackie picked up the dice, rolling them in her palm. "What do you say?"

John looked at her, at the challenge in her eyes coupled with a sparkle of naughtiness, at the curve of her smile, and felt desire coil tight in his belly. "Game on. Roll away and prepare to lose.”

They sat back down at the table. Jackie rolled first, a three and a four. Seven. John picked up the dice, shook them, and rolled. A two and a three. Five.

"Looks like you're losing something," Jackie said with a grin.

John kicked off his shoes, setting them aside. Jackie rolled again, a six and a five. Eleven. John rolled and got a nine. His socks came off next.

The game continued, the tension building with each roll. John lost his shirt, the cool air of the kitchen raising goosebumps on his skin. Three rolls in a row he had lost, but now it was Jackie’s turn to lose some clothing. Jackie lost her socks, revealing delicate feet with painted toenails. But then John's bad luck returned, and his roll of seven was beaten by Jackie rolling a ten. His trousers came off now, leaving him in just his boxers, his erection obvious to even the most casual observer.

Jackie's eyes lingered on the bulge in his boxers before she rolled again. She lost, and stood to pull her top over her head, revealing a black lace bra that made John's mouth go dry. Another round, and she stood to take her skirt off in double quick time, leaving her in matching black lace underwear. She pirouetted slowly in front of John so he could see all her curves. The skimpy black lace hid very little, and the thong was slowly being devoured by the crack of her bum.

"You planned this," John said, his voice breaking as his eyes took in every inch of her exposed flesh, and plenty that was not exposed too, but was begging to be let loose.

"Maybe," Jackie admitted, sitting back down and rolling the dice. She won this time, and John slowly stood to push down his boxers.

“Come on big boy. Show me my winnings,” teased Jackie. He eased them down in front of her and his cock sprang free, eager to be claimed. Jackie's eyes fixed on it, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

“I better see if I can catch you up, I guess.” She rolled again. “Guess I’ve lost as you are already out.” Standing slowly, she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall. Her breasts were just as John remembered them from yesterday, perfect, full and round, her nipples hard. John's hands itched to touch them. He quickly stood, crossing to her. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her knickers and slowly pulled them down her legs as he simultaneously fell to his knees in front of her. Jackie stepped out of them, and they were both naked in her kitchen, the dice forgotten on the table.

John kissed her belly button gently and stood up directly in front of his naked lover. He pulled her against him, skin to skin, and kissed her deeply. Jackie's arms came around his back, her breasts pressed against his chest, and John could feel the heat of her pussy against his own groin.

"We need a forfeit," Jackie murmured against his lips.

"What kind of forfeit?"

"Spanks. Based on the dice." She pulled back, her eyes dark with desire. "I'll roll. Whatever I get, that's how many spanks the final loser will get."

She picked up the dice and rolled. A five and a six. Eleven.

"Eleven spanks," Jackie said, her voice husky. "Now we roll to see who gets them."

They each picked up a die. John rolled a three. Jackie rolled a six.

"Looks like you're getting spanked," Jackie said with a wicked grin.

John's cock twitched at the thought. He'd never been spanked before, never even considered it, but the idea of being over Jackie's knee, vulnerable and exposed, sent a thrill through him. Jackie pulled one of the kitchen chairs away from the table and sat down on it. She looked into John’s eyes and patted her lap. "Come here loser."

John moved to her, his heart pounding. He positioned himself over her lap, his cock trapped between her thighs, the heat of her pussy against his hip. Jackie's hand rested on his arse, caressing gently.

"Eleven," she said. "Count them as I deliver them."

The first spank landed, sharp and stinging. John took a sharp intake of breath and gasped. "One."

Jackie's hand came down again, harder this time. "Two."

By the fifth spank, John was squirming, his cock rock-hard and trapped between her thighs. By the eighth, he was struggling, trying to push himself up, but Jackie held him down with surprising strength. The final three spanks were the hardest, and by the time she finished, John's arse was burning and he was achingly hard.

"Good boy," Jackie murmured, her hand soothing over his reddened skin.

John pushed himself up, grabbed Jackie's wrist, and pulled her to her feet. "You little sadist. Bedroom now before I forget my manners."

He practically dragged her through the house, Jackie laughing breathlessly as they stumbled up the stairs. Her bedroom was at the front of the house, a large room with a king-sized bed and soft lighting. John pushed her onto the bed, and before she could react, he'd pulled her across his lap.

"My turn," he said, and brought his hand down on her arse.

Jackie yelped, more in surprise than pain. John spanked her again, and again, delivering six quick, sharp slaps that left her arse pink and her pussy dripping. By the sixth spank, Jackie was moaning, her hips bouncing around against his thigh. John released her, and they fell into each other's arms, kissing frantically. They rolled on the bed, hands everywhere, until John was on top of her, his cock pressing against her entrance.

"Wait," Jackie gasped. "I want your mouth on my clit first."

John kissed his way down her body, pausing to suck each nipple into his mouth, to bite gently at the soft skin of her stomach, to swirl his tongue in her belly button. When he reached her pussy, he spread her legs wide and buried his face in the moistness between her thighs.

Jackie tasted like heaven, sweet and musky and uniquely her. John licked along her slit and slowly circled her clit with his tongue, and Jackie's hands held his head firmly against her cunt as she squeezed her thighs so he could barely breathe. He slipped two fingers inside her, curling them to caress her G-spot, and worked her with his mouth and hands until she was trembling and close to bursting.

"John," Jackie gasped. "Get on your back now. I want to taste you too."

John shifted, positioning himself so he was on his back and Jackie descended on his cock like she had not eaten for weeks, and took him deep in her warm moist mouth. Jackie's hand wrapped around his shaft, adding to the pleasure, and then with a twist of her body she straddled John’s chest and settled her pussy right in front of her face. As his cock moved in and out of her wet mouth, he licked her pussy again with a fresh appetite as she sucked him harder and harder. The sensation of her mouth on his cock while he licked her pussy was almost too much. John groaned against her clitoris, the vibrations making Jackie moan around his shaft.

They pleasured each other like that, sixty-nine on the bed, until John felt his orgasm building. He pulled away from her mouth, not wanting to come yet, and repositioned himself between her legs as she moved onto her back.

"I want you to make love to me.” Jackie whispered. I want to feel every inch of you opening me up."

Jackie slowly spread her legs wider as John moved his body up her body. John lined himself up and pushed inside, slow and steady, until he was buried to the hilt. They both groaned at the sensation, the perfect fit, the heat, the forbidden pleasure.

John started to move, long, slow strokes that had Jackie gasping beneath him. He braced himself on his forearms, looking down at her face, at the pleasure written there, at the way her eyes fluttered closed, at her mouth falling open as he filled her again and again, almost pulling all the way out before burying himself full depth again.

"Look at me," he said. "I want to see you when you come."

Jackie's eyes had closed with pleasure, bit now she opened them wide, locking with his, and John increased his pace slightly. Not fast, not hard, just steadily increasing the pressure and pushing as deep as he could. He could feel her pussy starting to gently squeeze around him, could see her body move in a different way.

Jackie's hand slipped between them, her fingers finding her clit. She rubbed it in time with John’s deep strokes, her breath coming faster and faster, and John felt her pussy clench even tighter around him.

"That's it," he encouraged. "Come for me, Jackie."

"John," she gasped, her fingers moving faster as he too increased his pace. "Oh my fucking god.”

Her orgasm hit her at that point, her whole body going rigid, her pussy trying to strangle his cock. John kept moving, kept thrusting through her climax, and felt her come again almost immediately, a second orgasm rolling through her before the first had even finished.

"Fuck," Jackie sobbed, her nails digging into his back. "Don't stop, please don't ever stop."

John didn't. He kept that same steady rhythm, feeling her come a third time, and then a fourth in quick succession, until she was shaking and gasping beneath him, a messy sweaty mass of feminine exhaustion. Only then did he let himself go, burying himself deep and filling her with his cum as she came one final time, her pussy milking every drop from him.

When it was over, John collapsed onto her and lay there for a minute, both of them trembling and gasping for breath, totally spent and unable to move. Gradually John returned to normal and lifted himself off Jackie to lie beside her and further catch his breath as it slowly returned to acceptable limits. Jackie turned into him, her head on his chest, and John's arms came around her, holding her close.

"Christ," he breathed.

"You saw him too then," Jackie agreed, her voice muffled against his skin. “Think he just worked a personal miracle for me.”

They lay there in the darkness, their breathing gradually slowing. John's hand stroked up and down Jackie's back, occasionally pausing to give her buttock a squeeze and she traced lazy patterns on his chest.

"I've wanted this for so long," Jackie said quietly. "Not just the sex. This. Being able to lie with you. To fall asleep with you."

"Me too," John admitted. "Thirty years is a long time to want someone. If I had known how good it would be I would have pounced on you the day we met."

"Do you regret it? Any of it?"

John thought about Yvonne, about Tom, about the lies and the sneaking around. He should regret it. He should feel guilty. But lying here with Jackie in his arms, he couldn't bring himself to.

"No," he said. "I don't."

Jackie tilted her head up to kiss him, soft and sweet. "Good. Neither do I."

They talked for a while longer, about nothing and everything, about their lives and their marriages and the strange twist of fate that had brought them to this moment of intense passion followed by post orgasmic relaxation. Eventually, their words grew slower, their voices softer, and they drifted off to sleep, still tangled together.

John woke to the sensation of warm fingers wrapped around his balls, gently massaging. He blinked in the early morning light, disoriented for a moment, before he felt the wet heat of Jackie's mouth close around the head of his cock.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips jerking.

Jackie pulled off with a soft pop, grinning up at him. "Good morning lover. Time for another quick round?"

"Christ, what a way to wake up," John said, his hand going to her hair.

Jackie took him back into her mouth, sucking him slowly, her tongue swirling around the swollen head. John watched her, mesmerized by the sight of his cock disappearing between her lips, by the way her lips held him in their grip. When he was fully hard, Jackie released him and climbed up his body, straddling his hips.

"Guess what. I want you inside me, right now." she said, positioning herself above him. "Slow and deep."

She sank down onto him, taking him all the way, and they both breathed in deeply with the feeling. Jackie started to move, rising and falling in a slow, sensual rhythm. John's hands went to her hips, guiding her, and they made love like that as the morning light crept through the curtains, slow and intimate, their eyes locked, their bodies moving together.

"I love how you feel," Jackie gasped, her pace increasing slightly. "I love your cock inside me."

"You're not so bad yourself lover.” John answered, his hands moving to her breasts, cupping them, his thumbs brushing over her proud nipples before they were trapped between his fingers.  

Jackie leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest, and started to ride him harder. The slow, sensual pace gave way to something more urgent, more desperate. John thrust up to meet her, driving deeper, and his hands moved behind her to caress her silky-smooth buttocks.

"Yes," she gasped. "Harder, John, help me fuck harder."

John gripped her hips and lifter up into her in time with her strokes, the bed shaking with the force of their coupling. Jackie's breasts bounced over his face with each thrust, her mouth open, her eyes glazed with pleasure as she felt his cock graze her cervix on every deep stroke. John could feel his orgasm building, could feel Jackie's own orgasm rising before his eyes

"Come with me," he demanded. "I want to feel you cream on my cock."

Jackie's body raised and lowered in a few rapid last strokes and then suddenly she was coming, screaming his name, her pussy adding its juices to the mix as John too came with a roar, filling her with his thick creamy sperm as her orgasm slowly passed over them. Jackie collapsed on top of him, gasping and trembling. They lay there for a long moment, their hearts pounding in sync, before Jackie finally rolled off him, and threw her head on the pillow, encircled by her damp hair.

"Coffee?" she suggested, her voice breathless.

"God, yes. I always like an espresso after a quickie," joked John.

They made their way downstairs, still naked, and Jackie put the coffee machine on while John found the cups. He knew his way around the kitchen from his many previous visits, though admittedly je had been clothed on every one of those more normal occasions. They moved around each other easily, comfortably, as if they'd been doing this for years. When the coffee was ready, they sat at the kitchen table, the same table where they'd played strip dice the night before and looked at each other.

"We need to talk about what’s happening I guess," Jackie said.

John nodded. "We do indeed. About where we go from here and how we avoid anyone getting hurt."

"I don't want to stop," Jackie said bluntly. "I don't want this to be a one-time thing, or even a few-times thing. I want this to be more."

"So do I," John admitted. "But we have to be realistic. We both have lives. Marriages."

"I'm not leaving Tom," Jackie said. "And I don't expect you to leave Yvonne. That's not what this is about."

"Then what is it about?"

Jackie reached across the table and took his hand. "It's about us. About finally having what we've wanted for thirty years. We meet when we can. We fuck when we can. But we don't change our domestic lives. We don't blow everything up. We just have this disjointed package that we can move into when we can. For ourselves."

John looked at their joined hands, at Jackie's face, open and honest and wanting. It was madness. It was selfish. It was wrong. But he knew if they were to continue than this was how it had to be. It was also what he wanted more than anything, and the thought of it stopping was something he could not begin to consider.

"Okay," he said. "We do this. Carefully. Discreetly."

"The decorating gives us an excuse for now," Jackie said. "After that, we'll figure something out. We're both clever enough."

John laughed, the sound slightly bitter. "Clever enough to lie to our partners, you mean."

"Clever enough to take what we need without hurting anyone," Jackie corrected. "Tom doesn't need to know. Yvonne doesn't need to know. What they don't know won't hurt them. We take what we can, when we can. We live two lives"

It was a rationalisation, and they both knew it. But sitting there in Jackie's kitchen, naked and sated and happy, John couldn't bring himself to care.

"Alright," he said. "We do this. Together."

Jackie smiled and raised her coffee mug. "To us. And to thirty years of waiting finally being over."

John clinked his mug against hers. "To us. Meet when we can, fuck when we can."

They finished their coffee, and John reluctantly got showered and dressed. He had to get home before Yvonne returned, had to maintain the illusion of normalcy. Jackie walked him to the door with her dressing gown now on, and they shared one last lingering kiss out of site of the neighbours.

"Monday?" she asked.

"Back to the house," John confirmed. "We've got the decorating to finish."

"Among other things," Jackie said with a wicked grin.

John laughed and headed for his car. As he drove home, his mind was already racing ahead, to next week, to the next time he could have Jackie in his arms, to all the stolen moments that lay ahead of them.

The decorating project had become a whole new existence for them both, and exciting times lay ahead.