by Vivian Ward
“I’ll tell you how you can tell if I’m developing feelings for someone.”
“How?” he whispers.
I know this is tearing him up because it’s one of his biggest fears: losing me. Ironically, one of my biggest fears is losing him, too. The difference is I have the confidence to know that he’ll never leave me.
For some reason, he doesn’t have that same confidence with me, and I hate it. I’ve never done anything—believe me, I’ve been very good—to make him believe otherwise.
I know the Bible says you’re not supposed to worship anyone other than God, but I truly idolize my husband. He’s on a pedestal that’s completely out of reach for any other human on this Earth.
We may have had our ups and downs, but the truth is that if a billionaire walked up to me and promised me the universe, I’d tell him to go fuck himself.
I’m not for sale, and I cannot be won over. My eyes are only for Brett, and everything I do is for this man.
“You know how you have veto power and can object to any guy at any time?” He nods. “Well, at any time, you’re welcome to veto him—even if it’s just a test. If I get upset, then you’ll know there’s something more to it but other than that, I don’t have a way to answer that. All I can do is try my best to assure you that you have nothing to worry about.”
“You mean that, don’t you?” he asks.
“I do,” I walk up to him and stand between his legs as I lean over and hug him. “If we don’t matter then none of this matters.”
“I love you, Cathy,” he squeezes me in a bear hug.
“I love you, too.”
While I’m making dinner, all I can do is wonder what the hell Scott told his wife about me, and it makes me nervous. Before I pull everything out of the oven, I send a quick email from my phone.
“What did you mean when you said you talked to your wife about me? I’m surprised that you told her that you found someone or that you were going to have someone at your house.
That makes me nervous. Are you sure she won’t be there tomorrow? I really don’t want her to catch us together, even if she knows about me. It would be weird and awkward.”
I leave out the part that I’d also feel like a giant piece of shit for fucking her husband when she can’t (or won’t) but this isn’t about her. This about giving my husband what he wants while I have some fun in all of it, too.
Chapter 17
“Cathy,
Don’t worry about my wife. She works almost every Monday, and if she were ever to have a Monday off for some reason, I’d tell you ahead of time so that you didn’t come over.
And what I told her is that I found a lovely woman who was willing to be FWB and that I am going to see you on my days off. When we talked about this in the past, I always told her that I’d be honest with her, so that’s what I’m doing.
She asked some questions about you like whether you are pretty and if you’re intelligent and things like that. I did tell her that she is much prettier than you but don’t take that as a bad thing. I think you’re incredibly attractive, and my wife is very good looking for her age. She’s the best looking 45-year-old woman that I know. Also, I told her that you are intelligent.
I know from talking to you that you’re a Type A personality, and that’s a good thing. You pay attention to details, you remember things, and you seem like you prefer to be in charge of things.
Other than that, we just talked about you and what you’re like, generally speaking. I didn’t give her too many details, but she is curious about you.
I told her about you as soon as we started emailing (before we met) because I had this feeling about you and after meeting, I can see I wasn’t wrong. She trimmed my hair tonight and even joked with me and said, “There, now you’ll look cute for your little girlfriend.” I think she’s slowly warming up to the idea of you.
If you have problems finding my address in the morning, call or text me. My number is (555)555-1091.
—Scott”
Wow.
I wasn’t ready for all of this just yet, but it is what it is, I suppose. My main fear is that she’s going to know that I’m in her house, fucking her husband and she’s going to pay us a surprise visit with a gun or something.
Of course, she could be the complete opposite. She might be intimidated by a woman who would be so bold as to fuck her husband in her bed while she’s out working.
But that’s none of my business, and frankly, I don’t care.
While her man is good looking, smart, funny and charming to be around, all I’m concerned about is having a little fun while exciting the hell out of my husband.
I sincerely hope he means what he said about he’s not against having a threesome with Brett because that’s what we really want, Brett and me.
“Hurry up, or we’re going to be late,” I call out to the kids as I try to get them off to school.
Brett’s already busy working this morning because he has to put together a big slide show for his job so I’m running solo today and my morning has been so hectic.
I got up an extra hour early today, so I could privately—and quietly—shave all the right places today before going over to Scott’s house. If I would’ve tried last night before we went to bed, there would’ve been no hot water after the kids bathed.
“Mom? Have you seen my glasses?” Dakota asks.
“What?” I ask my son. “No, I haven’t seen your glasses. Did you check in front of the TV where you usually take them off?”
“No,” he says.
“Well, then go look!” I tell him, waving him on to move it.
“Alex,” I smile at him. “Are you almost ready?”
“Just a minute mom, I’m trying to tie my shoes, but this one has a knot in it.”
It does. There are about four knots along the length of the rope.
“Come here,” I sigh. “I’ll get them out for you.”
After I finish getting the knots out of his shoelaces, I cup my hands around my mouth and yell out to our little princesses to see if they’re almost done.
“Girls! Are you ready?”
“Almost, give us two secs!”
“I’m going out to the van!” I yell through the house as I take the keys off the hook by the front door. “Come on out when you’re ready. I’m leaving.”
Opening the door, I see Alex is ready to go. He’s got his book bag strapped onto his shoulders, his shoes are tied, and he’s wearing his brightest smile.
“I knew there was a reason you were my favorite,” I scratch his head. “You’re always ready! Come on, let’s go wait for everyone else.”
One by one, they all pile into the van so I can drive them to school.
“Mom, why are you dressed up today? Are you going somewhere?” Angie asks.
I hadn’t thought about them asking about my appearance. Normally, on my days off when I drive them instead of having them ride the bus, I have a messy ponytail, no makeup, and baggy clothes.
Today, I have on a decent blouse with a pair of black jeans, my makeup is all done up, and my hair is neatly straightened.
“No, not really. I might go shopping later to pick up some cleaning supplies. Why?”
“Because you never wear makeup to take us to school or fix your hair in the mornings unless you’re going to work,” her sister chimes in.
“Well, I felt like looking like a human being for once instead of a reincarnated rag doll who’s only purpose in life is to clean up after grimy kids,” I stick my tongue out at her.
“All right boys, hop on out,” I say as we pull up in front of the school.
Once the boys are out of the van, I focus on getting the girls dropped off so I can get over to Scott’s house.
It’s going to feel strange to have sex in someone else’s bed.
In someone else’s marital bed.
My heart is racing, and my palms are beginning to sweat as the butterflies start to stir in my belly.
This is so dif
ferent from the night Brett gave me a hall pass. At least that night, we’d been drinking. I had liquid courage.
Today, it’s all me.
My mouth goes dry as I pull up to his house and stare at the door. The nerves in my stomach just knotted into a tangled ball of yarn, and I can hear my pulse charging through me.
As I’m gathering my bag and cell phone, his front door swings open, and he leisurely stretches out across the door frame, grinning at me.
He looks so sexy.
Leaning with his back against the door jamb, he watches me fidget with my things before I get out and walk up to the house.
The white T-shirt that he’s wearing clings to him, showing off his toned body. His job in drywall keeps him physically fit. He’s muscular, about the same as Charlie Hunnam, and looks amazing as he gives me a lazy smile.
“You look beautiful," he says.
“Thanks,” I nervously run my hand along the seam of my pink and white striped blouse in an effort to smooth it.
“Come on in,” he steps out of the door frame and waves me in. “I’ll give you the tour.”
The house is gorgeous and has a cozy feel to it as soon as I step inside. I almost feel bad for being inside another woman’s house.
Almost.
“This is the living room,” he points out. “I spend most of my days after work lounging around on the couch. Sometimes I think it’s more comfortable than the bed.”
He stops and grins at me.
“And we can try it out one day if you’d like.”
An awkward, goofy smile creeps across my face as I nod like a school girl.
“Here we have the kitchen. I just put in new counters and cabinets a few years ago, making this the fanciest room of the house.”
I like it. He did an excellent job. The salt and pepper marble countertops look beautiful against the dark stained wooden cabinets. It looks like a kitchen you’d see out of a magazine for Better Homes. The final touch is all of the stainless steel appliances; they’re nice.
“Now, the bedroom is down this hall,” he leads me toward it. “And here’s the guest bathroom,” he points to the right. “The spare room is over here,” he points to the left.
We’re at the end of the hall where he stops and ushers me to move forward.
“This is the master bedroom.”
It’s beautiful. The burgundy drapes wrap around the oversized bedroom window, contrasting the white goose down blanket adorn by cardinal pillow cases. Their bedroom reminds me of a hotel suite which I find odd since they don’t have sex.
“It’s so pretty in here,” I say as I walk past the rosewood dresser, stopping when I see myself in the mirror.
I look odd and out of place. This isn’t my house, this isn’t my husband, and this certainly isn’t my bedroom.
Somehow, even though I’m out of place, I feel welcomed and invited.
It’s such an odd combination to be in an unfamiliar place yet feel so comfortable when I shouldn’t be.
“It’s just like you,” he walks behind me and envelopes me in his arms.
He nuzzles his nose against my skin and inhales my scent as he starts to trail kisses along my neck.
“Oh, Cathy, you smell so good,” his breath tickles my skin.
Placing my bag and phone on the dresser, I glance into the mirror and smile at him.
The second I turn to face him, we begin kissing. His tongue is sweeping against mine, and I love the way he kisses. It’s rough, yet passionate.
Chapter 18
His erection is beginning to take form, and I can feel it pressing against me. Pulling back from his kiss, I let my hands slide down his body as I drop to my knees and begin to undo his fly while I maintain constant eye contact.
Those sea-green eyes of his look down at me in excitement and amusement as he grabs fistfuls of my long, straight hair. He looks like he’s preparing to enjoy the blowjob of his life—and he’s not wrong.
A deprived, patient man like him deserves it, and I fully intend on giving him the pleasure and performance that he’s been yearning.
Grabbing the base of his cock, I allow my fist to make slow pumps up and down his length while my tongue traces the head of his cut cock.
I make sure that my tongue carefully follows every single blood-filled vein protruding from his dick before I take him inside of my mouth.
He gasps as soon as his tip pushes past my tonsils and my lips touch the base of his cock. Still maintaining eye contact, I smile up at him as I slowly fuck his cock with my mouth.
It’s easy to see how much he’s enjoying the show that I’m putting on for him, but I’m not done yet. Not even close.
It’s funny, I can’t explain why I feel the need to highly perform for him, but I do. He’s different from all the other guys I’ve talked to, and he’s much more different from Arden.
I like him better.
I quit fucking him with my mouth when I think he’s had enough and slowly pull him out of my throat before I go back to licking and sucking along his shaft, working my way toward his balls.
I love how he’s showing his appreciation by moaning and pulling my hair.
Allowing my tongue to slide down the underside of his shaft, I continue along the line that separates his testicles before swirling my tongue along each one of them.
“Ohhhhh,” he hisses, his fist wrapping tighter around my hair.
I let my eyes smile at him while I continue my slow, delicious torture.
“You like that?” I whisper, pulling his right testicle into my mouth and rolling it across my tongue.
My hand continues to glide back and forth on his dick that’s still moist from the blow job he was just enjoying while I pay special attention to his boys.
“You have no idea,” he sighs heavily. “I can’t believe your husband shares this, but I’m glad he does.”
I let his right nut slide out of my mouth and show some attention to the left one, taking it into my mouth while gently licking and sucking on it. All the while, I’m still stroking his cock, pulling the skin taut away from his balls with each upward motion.
“Let’s go on the bed,” he says. “Besides, I’ve got some things I’ve been dying to do to you.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, smiling at him as I get off my knees.
“I’ve wanted to taste your pussy since the first day we took that walk in the park. I was impressed with the pictures you sent me via email, but they were nothing compared to when I met you in person.”
If I hadn’t just been on my knees sucking this stranger’s dick, I’d almost think that was sweet.
“Really,” I say, climbing onto the soft duvet cover. “I assumed you were much better looking in person, too.”
I’m not just repaying the compliment. It’s true.
He climbs onto the bed with me, pushing his way between my legs, kissing me as he shifts his weight on top of me.
My pussy is so wet, and the second he touches it, he’s going to find out. I feel the heat in my cheeks as this realization pops into my head.
Biting and nibbling on my lower lip, his kisses begin to descend along my jawline, and down my neck before his lips find my cleavage.
“This has to go,” he says, tugging at my blouse as he pulls it over my head.
Lying beneath him in my pink and beige bra, he drinks in my appearance.
“You have the nicest tits I’ve seen in a long time,” he admires them. “Let’s get rid of this, too.”
His hands slide under my back, and I arch my spine, allowing him to unhook the clasp. As soon as my bra loosens, my nipples become instantly erect from a combination of the cold air in the room and the delicate fabric being pulled away from my skin.
“They’re perfect,” he says, taking one nipple into his mouth as his fingers begin stimulating the other side.
“Mmm,” I say, grinding my hips against his.
His tongue feels magical on my breasts like it belongs there and I love the way he’s suck
ing on my nipples and lightly biting on them.
Once both of my nipples are perfectly hard, his lips begin moving south again, but instead of going right between my legs, he spends a few minutes kissing and biting my thighs.
“I just want to let you know that this is pure torture in case this is payback for the blow job,” I tell him.
I want my pussy in this man’s mouth but he’s taking his sweet time getting there, and it’s driving me insane. My whole body is tense with anticipation, yet I’m enjoying every second of it as I wriggle beneath him.
“It’s been a long time for me, Cathy. I fully intend to enjoy every inch of your body while I have you to myself today.”
It’s only at this point; I realize I need to send Brett a picture of him going down on me so he can see how my morning is going.
I arch my body, stretching my arm over to the dresser and quickly grab my phone, taking a quick, candid picture to send to Brett.
Using my Snapchat filter, I write, “So far, so good” and send him a photo of Scott kissing my thighs.
“If your husband likes pictures like that, he’s going to love this,” he says, pushing his finger inside of me as he sucks on my clit.
Holy shit, this guy is fucking hot.
My fingers go straight for his blonde locks as he takes my ass into his hands, balancing me while he stuffs his tongue inside my pussy, lapping at the juices.
“Mmm,” he says, licking his lips. “This is the best pussy I’ve had in a long time.”
My juices glisten off his facial hair, making it more evident how wet I really am before he dives right back in.
“Fuck,” I whisper as his tongue skillfully traces all the right places. “You’re so good at this.”
“I’m just getting started,” he grins up at me. “I hope that husband of yours isn’t expecting you back anytime soon because you’re all mine this morning.”
Over the course of the next hour, he fucks me in almost every position imaginable and has taken plenty of video for Brett. Getting dressed, I’m completely spent and a bit shaken at just how good the sex actually was.
“Can I get you something to drink before you leave? We have bottled water if you’re thirsty,” he offers.