Needing Her, Needing Him

By Rachel Cray

Warning: Contains some scenes with explicit sex

This is the second in the series "Lucy & Friends", and is a sequel to "Jack and Me... and His Lodger".

Lucy and Angela are lovers and live together; Lucy has a bisexual orientation and Angela is a full-on lesbian. When Lucy meets Ross, an old boyfriend, she hankers to re-establish her close relationship with him. An opportunity arises that could enable her to have the best of both worlds, but it involves subterfuge, and deceiving Angela in a selfish move that threatens to undermine the foundations of their love.

Lucy wants Ross for sex games; he is her willing submissive, and they plan regular meetings to have wild sex together, including pegging and light BDSM.

Ross is interested in a permanent relationship with her, but Lucy doesn't want to risk damaging her close bond with her lover. Can she ever persuade Angela to accept her need to continue seeing Ross? How is she going to achieve this, and still preserve the love that the two women have for each other?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rachel Cray
• Release date: Oct 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466175488

Rachel Cray

Rachel writes erotic romances to two sub-genres: the first she calls "law firm erotic", where her characters are the horny partners and employees of a U.S. law firm, and whose spare-time activities may best be described simply as sex-related. The second sub-genre she calls "village erotic", where the cast are the horny inhabitants of Maybourne, a fictional old market town in the heart of England with a number of olde worlde villages, Tudor buildings, a ruined abbey and other picturesque features in both rural and urban settings.She has worked in several European countries, first as a secretary and then as an executive assistant, before returning to her roots in Surrey, England, and close to London; for many years she was the director of administration at the London office of a large U.S. law firm before leaving to run her own recruitment company. Now in semi-retirement, she devotes most of her spare time to writing erotic romance novellas, drawing on her life's experiences in a variety of fields. She is married with children and grandchildren.

Book preview

Needing Her, Needing Him

by Rachel Cray

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Rachel Cray

Rachel Cray’s home page

Needing Her, Needing Him is the sequel to

Jack and Me... and His Lodger

It is the second in the Lucy & Friends series

Discover other titles by Rachel Cray at Smashwords.com:

Law Firm Love series:

Interview for Love

Working Overtime

The New Client

Snatched

Maybourne series:

A Close Match

Village Accounts

Kate's Return

Lucy and Friends series:

Jack and Me... and His Lodger

and

A Stranger in My Bed

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons (living or dead), actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission by the author, except for brief quotations for review purposes.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

Smashwords Edition : Licence Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

CHAPTER 1

I was daydreaming.

I was living with Jack again in his house, and we were in his bedroom; he was getting stripped for action. I was admiring his small, rounded butt, and his tanned, muscular shoulders; my fingers edged their way slowly down to my pussy. His dick was hard now, and poking towards me, inviting me to get myself ready. My clit throbbed, eagerly waiting to accept him inside me.

I felt horny, and I wanted to masturbate; I closed my eyes as I pulled down my jeans and my underwear, slouching my body forward in the armchair to allow my finger access to my crotch, so that –

Lucy! What the hell do you think you’re doing?

Angela, my lover and house-mate, burst in and caught me pleasuring myself.

"Aren’t I enough for you? Or am I not good enough for you?"

Ashamed, like a schoolboy caught wanking by his mother, I pulled up my jeans and sat upright in the chair.

Well? she continued. If I wasn’t around, and you were horny, I could understand it. But I’m here, and available. We can have sex any time you want.

I’m sorry, Angela. It was a moment’s lapse... I didn’t think...

Don’t I satisfy you any more? Her tone became more conciliatory.

The truth was that nobody could truly satisfy me. The more I grasped, the more I wanted. Enough was only sufficient for today. Tomorrow, I’d want even more. But I couldn’t tell Angela that. I wouldn’t want to lose her. Yes, you do satisfy me. And I haven’t heard you complaining about any shortcomings on my part. Just now, I was only daydreaming, and I got lost in my thoughts.

Come here, she whispered, cuddling me. Do you want to go upstairs now? I didn’t have plans for this afternoon.

No, thanks, Angela. The surprise of being discovered has destroyed the... whatever it was.

Are you worried about your book?

Just a little. But there’s always another one in my head.

Sales of my latest book hadn’t reached the figures that my publishers and I had hoped for. There was always a market for erotic art, we agreed. But, when it became too specialised, there was a risk that not enough dicks were going to get hard enough to induce their owner’s wallets to open. And I wasn’t going to earn enough to make the project worthwhile.

If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go out for a walk to turn a few ideas round. I’ll feel a lot better by the time that I get back. And then... maybe... bedroom?

Do you want me to come out with you?

I shook my head. I’m not good company right now.

She smiled and we kissed.

I got ready and walked out in the direction of the park, about fifteen minutes down the road from where we lived.

I found my favourite bench in a remote corner, and looked across the grass. I’d been stupid, getting caught with my hand on my pussy. I loved Angela, and she thought the world of me; I’d never dream of doing anything to upset her. But I had. And I couldn’t let go of my other self, the woman who yearned for a man’s touch, the warmth of a muscular body next to me in my bed. How could I convince myself – and Angela – that such a craving wasn’t infidelity, treachery, or would make her feel justified in breaking up our lovely relationship?

Then there was the book. It wasn’t selling. Whatever happened, I didn’t want the publishers to start thinking about –

Lucy Anderson? Is that you, Lucy? It is! Well, well, after all these years!

Out of the corner of my eye, I had vaguely noticed a woman in a green coat pass by, but I hadn’t looked up at her face. But she saw mine and, when she began speaking, I took in her features and was overjoyed to see an old friend from my distant past. We had been at university together, as undergraduates. I hadn’t seen her since our graduation.

Mandy Baker! Good God! It must be eight years!

Seven, actually. And it’s not Mandy Baker any more – it’s Amanda Young now, she smiled, pleased that I had recognised her and had put a name to her face immediately. That’s a skill I picked up as a teacher; I’ve met hundreds and hundreds of people, but can still name most of them, although recognising most of the children who have now become young adults isn’t always easy.

So you’ve got married, and your husband’s decided you should be called by your real name because it makes you appear more professional.

She laughed. I’d like to think it was a mutual decision. Are you married, Lucy?

No. I have a partner, but marriage isn’t going to happen.

May I join you? I’ve got a spare twenty minutes. And it would be great to catch up after such a long time.

I moved along the bench to make room for her. She looked smart in her green coat; I felt scruffy by comparison, in my jeans and woollen pullover, but outward appearances never really worried me.

So what happened after university? she asked. You stayed on, didn’t you?

Yes. I took my doctorate in art history, and became a lecturer. I did very nicely for myself, until the Master’s wife fell in love with me.

She was a little taken aback, but tried to hide it. From the way you phrase that, I infer that her feelings weren’t reciprocated. I always wondered whether you were a lesbian. I was wrong.

I’m bisexual, I answered. I enjoyed having that woman’s love. But, over a short period of time, she became infatuated with me and, when it was out in the open, there was a scandal. She was predatory, and twice my age. The college threw me out through the back door, and I found a position as an art teacher after getting re-qualified. I’ve also written a number of magazine articles and a few books on art history.

Did you find anyone else?

I had a guy. Jack. He was great, and so understanding. But I was unfaithful – not just once – and he wasn’t prepared to share me with my women lovers. He got himself a straight girl, and they’re happy. His girl introduced me to her house-share friend, a lesbian, I fell in love with her and we swapped places. It was almost a win-win.

Almost?

She’s full-on lesbian. And I’m bi-. I still need a man to provide some... needs. It brings some equilibrium into my sex life. That’s what Jack couldn’t cope with: my need to fuck other women. But enough about me. What about you?

Married, but no children, sadly. My husband’s in a good job, so I work part-time for a charity. I’m down here to visit a cousin. We live in Lincolnshire now, and my life will never be as colourful as yours.

Do I detect a tinge of regret in that last statement?

No, not at all. Gratitude might be more appropriate. I’m happy living in my monochrome world. It may be boring to you, but I have some stability.

I never thought of my world as being Technicolor, or unstable –

Lucy, I never meant that you were unstable –

I know you didn’t. I was only teasing. Sure, my life does have its ups and downs. And, right now, I’m concerned about my latest book.

What’s it about? Something obscurely erotic, no doubt? You can’t have changed very much.

"It’s all about certain kinds of 12th century carvings that appear on the outside of churches and cathedrals, mostly in England, Ireland and France. There are a few elsewhere in Europe. They’re called Sheela na Gigs, and they depict elderly women with their legs open, showing their genitalia to the world."

How does the church explain having obscene statues like those to welcome the congregation?

I have my own theories about that, but you’ll have to buy the book to find out, Mandy. And I didn’t say they were obscene. I think they’re erotic, even though the subjects are not young women.

Next time I go to church, I’ll have to keep a look out for them.

Most have been destroyed, either during the Reformation or by the Puritans. There are only around seventy carvings left here in England. I’ve listed them in the book. The best one is at Ely Cathedral – the lady appears to be showing the world her clitoris. I wonder whether the guy who carved it knew what the clit was for.

She laughed. If he did, he kept it a secret for a long time! What’s the book called?

I gave her the name of the book and its publisher.

I’ll order it. Anyway, it’s been great seeing you again, Lucy. And I do hope you find an understanding man to fill the gap in your life. But does your girlfriend know about this... desire?

No. We’ve only been together a year, and it would break her heart. I’m walking a tightrope here, Mandy. I have to be very careful.

Good luck, old friend. I’m so pleased you haven’t lost any of your exuberance, in spite of your problems. I do hope we meet again soon.

Yes. That would be nice. We’ve barely scratched the surface today. We both stood up and kissed each other’s cheek.

Mandy walked out of the park and back into the busy world to find her cousin. I wondered if I’d see her again in seven years’ time, and we could compare notes about the hands that life had dealt us; a great deal had happened to me since I had last seen her, much of which I would have preferred to forget. I left the park in the other direction, returning to Angela – my love – and our home.

We embraced when I arrived. I’m sorry, I said. It was quite out of character for me to –

No. Don’t be silly. It was my fault, getting into that rage. There’s still so much about you that I don’t know.

I have no secrets, Angela. You fucking liar, Lucy.

Did you enjoy your walk?

I ran into an old friend from my days as an undergrad. She was a real party animal, but she’s grown up now, and gone for the whole package – husband, part-time job for a charity.

You sound jealous.

No. Well, maybe. A little. But she’d pushed her voice up-market, and dressed herself in nice clothes...

Miaow...

We both laughed. Do you want to go to bed? I suggested.

It’s nice to pretend that we’re still on honeymoon,