The Crush: An Affair in Three Parts

by Ben Boswell

  She got off me and quickly, wordlessly, dressed. Without a glance over her shoulder she walked out, slamming the door behind her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Red wanted it. I could see it in her eyes as I smiled at her in the corridor. She’d been thinking about me, had probably spent all day Sunday rubbing her pretty, little pussy raw fantasizing about getting fucked again. No matter what Peggy thought, I hadn’t misread the signs. I’d awakened something in her.

  And I also knew I’d only scratched the surface. If she’d just let go, we could explore it all together. A journey of sexual discovery. Annie held out the prospect of a relationship that wouldn’t get old. She was beautiful and brilliant and driven, needy and desperate and hungry, a great lay and also so inexperienced that she barely knew how to handle a cock.

  I didn’t know we could be happy in the long-run, but she was the first woman I’d met who I could even imagine not being bored with in a matter of weeks.

  I went to her office at lunchtime. I locked the door behind me.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  I smiled and approached her.

  “We can’t,” she insisted. She was licking her lips and staring at my crotch.

  I stepped in closer, unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock.

  She didn’t hesitate. She leaned forward and took me into her mouth. She got the head in and bobbed up and down on my prick. Each time we’d been together, she’d gotten a little bit better at it, and I imagine how nice it would be to fuck her throat, to see my prick disappear completely into her luscious mouth. She wasn’t ready for that yet, so instead, she began to kiss up and down my shaft, her tongue trailing up the underside, her hands squishing wetly on my girth. It was like she wanted to taste and rub every inch of me, all at once.

  As she worked on my dick, I peered down her blouse, seeing her gorgeous tits jiggling beneath a sexy, lace bra. I knew she’d picked it out just for me. That she’d probably stood naked in front of her mirror that morning, maybe even rubbing her own nipples, as she chose a pair of sexy, matching underwear for me.

  I stood her up and bent her over her own desk. I lifted up her skirt and slid her matching panties to the side. Her pussy beckoned to me, pink and wet. I started to bend down to take a bite when she stopped me.

  “Just put it in,” she hissed.

  I did. It was like she was on fire. Her pussy was as hot and wet as any I’d ever had.

  “Oh yes, I love it so much,” she gasped.

  In that position, with her legs spread, her ass cheeks cleaved apart to give me a perfect view of her cunt lips clinging to my cock and of her tight, little asshole pulsing with each stroke. It’s not like anal is the be all and end all of sex, but Peggy had been right. It’s a symbolic threshold. Especially for a type-A, control freak like Red, taking it up the ass would require a level of trust and submission that would shake her and open her up to the possibility of whole new pleasures.

  "Come to my place tonight, Red, and I'll show you something new," I said as I pressed my thumb against her butthole.

  “Show me what?” she asked, begging for it.

  I buried my thumb in her ass and pounded her pussy with my cock. She was gasping and hissing, her hips thrusting back against me. I pulled out my cell phone and shot a quick video of it. I thought about fucking her ass then and there, but I didn’t get the chance. She came suddenly, violently. Her pussy spasmed against my cock. Her ass clenched on my thumb. I couldn’t help myself. I filled her with my come.

  I pulled out of both holes and took a moment to admire my handiwork. Both her cunt and ass gaped open for a moment before closing back up. I sat back down in my chair.

  To my surprised she wheeled and squatted before me. Her legs were spread and my jism leaked out of her red twat. She sucked my semi-flaccid prick into her mouth and licked it clean.

  I ordered her to play with herself while she sucked me. She obeyed without question, fingers sliding up and down her wet slit as her mouth worked on my prick. She couldn’t take it all, but she took more than before, letting my cock deep enough into her mouth to tease the back of her throat, making little, submissive choking sounds each time.

  In just a couple of days I’d turned her from a prim, buttoned-up, professional into a dirty whore who gagged herself on a cock while fingering her own pussy. If she gave me another few hours, I knew I could break her completely, make her my own, perfect, little slut.

  There was so much I wanted to do with her, to her. Just thinking of the possibilities was exhilarating. She swallowed me deeper. Her fingers slipped into her snatch. Her other hand fondled my balls. Even though I’d just come, I couldn’t resist. I came hard and she swallowed it all, eagerly, hungrily.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I’m not quite sure what I was thinking when I asked her to move out to San Diego with me. Part of it, of course, was that I was feeling lovey-dovey after having busted a nut in her mouth. Part of it, though, was that I wanted her to start thinking of this as more than just a fling. My proposal seemed to rock her, but when I told her I wanted her to come to my place tonight, she said no.

  Even still, as I sat at home that night, I kept waiting for my phone to buzz or my doorbell to ring, but she didn’t show.

  I streamed that video I’d shot of her onto my TV. It was hard to believe she was the same woman I’d initially deemed “no fun,” the kind of woman Peggy would describe, accurately, as having a stick up her ass. On my TV was a wild slut. A married woman, bent over her own desk, in broad daylight, thrusting back against another man’s cock in her pussy and thumb in her ass. I wondered if she even recognized herself anymore.

  I was hoping not. I wanted her to cross the Rubicon. To realize there was no going back, only forward in a world of more passion, more depravity, more exploration. And I wanted to be her guide.

  I clicked off the TV. But not tonight.

  ***

  Whatever resolve had kept her away from me last night, broke the next morning. She texted me early asking to see me. I told her to come to my place in the afternoon.

  She was dressed to fuck. She was wearing, four inch, fuck-me pumps, a sheer sundress and no bra. I could see her hard nips poking through. I suspected she didn’t have any panties on either.

  "Tell me what you want," I demanded.

  “You can do whatever you want to me,” she replied softly.

  I made her repeat it, louder. She blushed and obeyed.

  “Would you fuck another girl for me?”

  She hesitated and then answered, “yes.”

  “How about if I invited some buddies over to take turns with you, you’d do that too?”

  She reddened. Her eyes flashed. “Yes,” she replied.

  That wasn’t actually the answer I wanted. What Red needed was to lose control. To surrender to me. But she wouldn’t. In telling me she’d do anything I asked, she was paradoxically claiming control for herself. I wanted to push her boundaries. She was telling me there were none.

  I did my best to test her convictions. I fucked her hard and soft. I introduced her to anal sex and bondage. I worked on her anticipation and fears. I made her come again and again.

  Fucking her ass was spectacular. Anal sex feels good, but it is the visual that really sells it. The sight of her tiny, little asshole stretched around my prick was amazing. So too was the sight of her naked body, her slender waist, her full breasts peeking out from beneath her torso.

  Every thrust into her ass elicited a delightful little mewl.

  “Do you like it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she gasped.

  But I could tell she did. She was this hot piece of ass. Barely thirty, so still young enough to experience life, and yet there was something sad about the fact that she was only now trying something as basic as anal.

  Nevertheless, I didn’t break through her defenses. She took everything I threw at her with equanimity, and even before I was done I realized that she was just testing herself.
She’d already decided she didn’t want what I could offer.

  Or maybe, I just didn’t try hard enough. How would she have reacted had I followed through on my darkest impulses? Would it have been different if I had made her eat Peggy’s pussy while I fucked her in the ass? How about if I got a couple of buddies to come over so we could fill all her holes at once? What if I’d striped her back with the riding crop? Or taken her out and fucked her in public?

  I couldn’t bring myself to do that to her. At the end, after hours of sweaty sex she calmly thanked me and asked me to drive her home. I was disappointed, but I did.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Dave showed up at my office the next day. He was smaller than I’d remembered, diminished somehow. And yet, he didn’t back down.

  "I want you to stop seeing my wife," he said.

  He didn’t even know what he was doing. How he was really cheating her with his blandness.

  "Let me show you something," I replied.

  I showed him the video I’d shot of his wife slinging her cunt against my cock, moaning at my thumb in her ass. He watched it impassively.

  "I want you to stop seeing my wife," he repeated.

  I forced a laugh. How could he not get it? It turned out she was devoted to him, but he should have had the decency to set her free.

  I thought of the way she’d come when I first fucked her. The time she almost passed out from coming so hard. The way she’d gratefully licked my dick clean after I fucked her bent over her desk. Her soft mewls of pleasure when I first fucked her ass, and the way she screamed into her gag when I pounded her ass the second time. All the times she’d eagerly slurped up my come. In a week, I’d given her more sexual excitement than he had in a decade. I was sure of it.

  "You can't satisfy her the way I do. She deserves better."

  He shook his head cluelessly.

  "What's her favorite movie?" he asked.

  I held out my hands. What was he talking about?

  "What toppings does she like on her pizza? What's her sister's name? Is she a dog person or a cat person?"

  He continued his rant.

  "What's her name? Her real name? You always call her Red. Do you even know her name? Her real name?"

  "Ann, Annie, right?" I replied, suddenly uncertain.

  "It's Gloria.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “You've known her for months and the only thing you know about her is that she likes your cock. Yeah, she does deserve better."

  He left. I just shook my head. Poor, deluded guy. I wondered how he’d feel when she returned to me, begging for more. But… then again… I knew that she wouldn’t.

  ***

  I kept hoping to see her at my going-away party. She didn’t show. I went looking for her in her office, but the lights were out and she’d left without saying goodbye.

  “Looking for your girlfriend?”

  Peggy was standing behind me, hand on her hip. I turned to face her.

  “Hey Babe,” I said.

  She rolled her eyes.

  I sidled up to her. “How are you doing?” I asked.

  She shrugged.

  I thought of my conversation with Dave.

  “Peggy… is that a nickname?”

  “Margaret.”

  “How so?”

  “Meg… Meggy… Peggy. Could be worse. Could have gone Mog, Molly, Polly.”

  I smiled. “Polly want a cracker?”

  “Exactly. My family likes those kinds of names. Old-fashioned that devolve into unpredictable diminutives. My sister went from Elizabeth to Bethany.”

  “Is she younger or older?” I asked.

  “Why, you want to fuck her too?”

  I laughed, but I did wonder if her tits were as big as Peggy’s. “You wouldn’t be the first set of sisters I’ve had.”

  “I bet.”

  I didn’t want to go back to the party.

  “You want to grab a bite to eat?” I asked.

  “Is that code for inviting me back to your office so I can suck your dick?”

  Ouch. That hurt. But I had to admit, it was fair. I was a shallow douche.

  “No, I was thinking a real meal. The dick sucking can be dessert.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “I don’t put out on the first date.”

  I chuckled.

  “You want me to ask Tina to come along?” she asked.

  I hesitated. A nice, long night with the two of them might be just the thing to make me forget Red.

  “No, just you.”

  She looked at me surprised. Then nodded. “Okay.”

  I took her hand and we walked down the corridor.

  “So,” I asked, “what’s your favorite movie?”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  I am your typical family man with a wife and kids and an overactive imagination. I am a longtime reader and author of erotic fiction. I write in genres that I find exciting and arousing. Most of my stories are in the naughty wife, wife-watching genre, though occasionally I venture into other subject matter.

  I have written several pieces of longer-form fiction.

  Two Sides of Terri

  Tempting Terri

  Taming Terri

  Whatever it Takes

  Honeymoon Hazards

  The Surrogate Master

  Dark Tide: An Interracial Adventure on the High Seas

  Seven Dates: A Different Kind of Hotwife

  Annual Leave

  For more information on future projects, visit http://www.benboswell.com and my author page at Amazon. You can send me email at ben.boswell.author@gmail.com.