by Amy Brent
You might say that I do my part for international relations, in more ways than one.
Sure, I could have all the free pussy I wanted, but the old saying “you get what you pay for” is as true for pussy as it is everything else.
I waved Fiona over and gave her a friendly hug. She smelled amazing, like lilacs and vanilla. I kissed her cheeks and resisted the urge to press my lips to hers. I was pretty sure I was gonna fuck this girl’s brains out before the night was through, but I didn’t want to scare her off by being too forward right out of the gate. Like I said, sometimes I’m not so good at reading signals. That’s why I prefer to pay for pussy. There are no mixed signals; just negotiating for the price of services rendered.
All thoughts of other women vanished the moment she slid into the booth across from me. I let my eyes drink her in. Fiona Kassidy with a K was naturally beautiful. She had long blonde hair clipped back at the sides and curled to fall over her tanned shoulders. She was wearing a little black party dress that pushed her ample tits together to form a deep crevice of cleavage that I wanted to dive into. The dress was strapless and short, but not slutty short. It showed off her tanned shoulders and neck above and her long legs and thin ankles below. My mouth literally watered for her. I couldn’t wait to discover the parts of her body the dress was hiding.
Then she started talking and I found myself actually listening to what she had to say. Usually, when a woman started talking about anything other than business, I tuned out. Not on purpose and not in a rude way. It’s just the way what’s left of my brain works. I start thinking about fucking and that’s all I can think about. I may have OCD, ADD, ADHD, HGTV and a bunch of other letters. Or, I may just be a selfish asshole, which is Jesse’s hypothesis of my condition.
But with Fiona, it was different. I didn’t have to pretend to be interested in what she was saying because I truly was. I loved the sound of her voice. It was deep, husky, full of smoke and promise. I still wanted to fuck her brains out, but this woman was actually smart, interesting, educated, easy to look at and easy to talk to. She wasn’t like most women in my world. She was, well, different.
We started playing footsie under the table, then things got interesting. She slid her foot up my leg and started rubbing my cock with her foot. I slipped off my loafer and slid my toes between her legs and into her cunt. I was seconds away from shooting my load right there at the table when I remembered that we were near the restrooms. I asked if she wanted to meet me in the restroom and she said yes, without hesitation. I finished my drink and watched the door close behind her, then looked around the bar to make sure no one was paying any attention to us. There were a few guys left at the bar, boozing up young girls in short dresses. Hookers. Cheap pussy that I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. No matter, they were too busy trying to get laid themselves to pay much attention to me.
My cock was hard as a rock as I slid out of the booth and went through the door that led to the hallway where the restrooms were located. I tapped on the women’s restroom door and she opened the door. She was standing there smiling at me with her thong hanging from a hooked finger. The scent of her sex filled my nose, made me smile.
I slipped inside the tiny restroom and closed and locked the door. I took off my tie and jacket and hung them on the back of the door, then put my hands on Fiona’s hips and backed her against the sink. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled my lips to hers. The kiss was long and passionate, a little hard, like she hadn’t kissed anyone in a very long while and was trying to make up for lost time. She slathered her tongue across my lips and shoved it into my mouth.
I slid my hands around her waist and squeezed her round ass, then found the zipper at the back of the dress and tugged it down slowly as I chewed on her neck and shoulder. She panted in my ear.
She was wearing a black strapless bra. I made short work of the hooks in the back and her round breasts fell free. I cupped her soft globes and gave them a squeeze. Her tits were full and natural. Her nipples were long and erect, like my cock. When I squeezed her nipples, she moaned into my mouth.
I slid my hands under her thighs and lifted her up to sit on the sink. She worked her ass from side to side to tug the dress up over her ass and to her waist. I looked down and smiled. Her neatly trimmed pussy was at the edge of the sink. I couldn’t resist dropping to my knees to taste her pink, juicy goodness.
“What are you doing?” she sighed.
“Tasting you,” I said.
“Oh… my…”
Fiona was gushing juices as I knelt in front of her and put my hands under her legs and flicked my tongue to her clit. She jumped a little and laughed. She propped her hands on the sink behind her to steady herself as I lifted her legs over my shoulders. Her thighs pressed to my ears as I licked her like an ice cream cone from anus to clit. Her juices flowed hot and tangy over my tongue. I lapped them up like a kitten lapping milk and swallowed every sweet drop.
“God… Nick…” she moaned. “I’m… going to… cum…”
“Cum, baby,” I said, my lips sucking at her clit. I brought up my thumbs from beneath her legs to spread her lips wide. Her hole glistened to me. When I drove my tongue deep inside her, Fiona’s body trembled and she gushed juice like water through a firehose, covering my mouth, cheeks, and chin with her wonderful scent and taste.
She threw back her head and bit her lip as she came, arching her ass off the sink to press it to my mouth. I licked and sucked and licked until she stopped quaking. She brought her hands around to my face and lifted me up.
“You wanna taste your pussy?” I asked, brushing my lips to hers. She didn’t answer. She put her hands on my cheeks and pulled me to her, pressing her lips to mine, probing my mouth with hers.
“I taste amazing,” she whispered. Her hands slid down my chest to my belt. I couldn’t wait any longer. I tugged my belt loose and unbuttoned my slacks and let them fall to my knees. My cock popped out like spring.
“Hello,” Fiona said breathlessly. She reached for my cock and pulled me to her. She swirled the head of my cock around her hole to lubricate it, then wrapped her legs around my waist and drew me to her. My cock is long and thick; too big to fit fully inside most women. Fiona was no exception. Her pussy was tight as a drum, forcing my cock to slide into her slowly, an inch at a time. I could feel her hole stretching to accommodate me. She sucked in air between her teeth and told me not to stop. She leaned back on her hands and moaned as I impaled her inch by inch.
“God… your pussy is so fucking tight…” I said, gritting my teeth to fight back the orgasmic fire that was igniting in my balls. I looked down between us to watch my cock sliding in and out of her. I could only get halfway in, but it was enough to make my fucking toes curl. Fiona continued to gush her juices all over my crotch. It was an amazingly warm feeling that just turned me on even more.
“Your cock is… so… fucking big…” she said, biting at my ear. “Fuck me hard… Nick… fuck me… hard…”
Her fingernails dug into my shoulders as I pummeled her pussy. The breath rushed out of her in gusts. I was panting like a dog. I thought I heard someone knocking on the door at one point, but I ignored it. I was ten seconds from cumming. I wasn’t about to stop now.
“Oh… god… I’m cumming… Nick…”
“Cum with me, baby,” I said, quickening the pace of my thrusts. My balls were tight and on fire. I could feel the lava flowing from within me as my cock drew closer to bursting inside her.
We came at the same instant. She dug her nails into my shoulders until it hurt like a motherfucker, but I kept pounding it to her. Her big tits bounced between us. I felt her heels digging into my ass, prodding me along. I pushed up on my toes and tightened every muscle in my body as I filled her with my hot milky seed. She gave as good as she got. I could feel her hot juices flowing out over my cock, soaking us both. A few more good thrusts and we froze for a moment, then slowly relaxed. I pulled back to look her in the eye.
“Tha
t was incredible,” I said, kissing her lips.
“Yes, it was,” she said quietly. She tried to smile but bit her lip instead. I thought I saw a tear in her eye.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“No, everything is just perfect,” she said with a sigh. She glanced down at the mess we’d made and began to laugh. “Damn, I should have recorded this on my phone.”
I frowned at her, then gave her an embarrassed roll of the eyes when I realized that she was referring to the sex tape of me and that reality star whose name I couldn’t remember, but whose ass I would never forget.
“Maybe we can videotape it next time,” I said, kissing her again. “I mean, if you want there to be a next time.”
“Yes,” she said, sliding her arms around my neck. “I’d like that very much.”
CHAPTER FIVE: Fiona
I’d never had an orgasm that literally made me shudder from head to toe before or one that lasted nearly as long and seemed to come in waves. The ripples of orgasmic fire seemed to pump through my veins and out of my vagina for minutes. I’d peek to orgasm, barely have time to catch my breath, then peek to orgasm again. It was almost too surreal to be true, like something you saw in a bad porno movie.
Afterward, we giggled like teenagers as we put ourselves back together in the cramped space, all knees and elbows and asses rubbing together. The Haven Club was pretty high end, so even the bar restrooms were stocked with thick hand towels stacked neatly on a shelf. I ran one under warm water for a minute, then used it to clean myself off down there. I was a sticky gooey mess, but I loved it. I dried off my cooch with a dry towel and pulled the thong out of my purse and shook it loose. It was still damp, but I had to put it on to keep the after-sex juices from dripping out of me.
Nick watched me with a smile on his face that seemed to be plastered there. He wiped off his sticky cock and balls with the wet cloth and roughly stuffed them inside his slacks, as if he were putting them away until the next time they were needed. There was a laundry chute in the wall for used towels. We held our noses and giggled as we dropped our nasty towels down the chute. Nick made a comment that he would make sure the person doing the laundry got a hefty tip in the morning.
“I’m going to get us a fresh round of drinks,” Nick said when he had his jacket on and his tie stuffed inside a pocket. He leaned in to kiss me gently on the lips. “Meet you back at the booth.”
“That sounds lovely,” I said with a happy sigh that made us both smile. He slipped out the door. I locked the door behind him, then pushed the thong down my legs and sat on the toilet for a good long pee.
As I sat there with my elbows on my knees and my cheeks resting between my palms, I let the stream fly and closed my eyes to think about what I’d just done. Not only had I just had amazing sex with a man I hardly knew in a bar restroom, I had crossed the line from faithful wife to cheater.
That’s right, it was official.
I was a cheater, just like my husband.
I could no longer stand on my pious soapbox and point the finger so angrily at him. I could no longer take the moral high ground and look down on him with eyes full of disgust.
Granted, he cheated first and had probably slept with far more women than I could even imagine, but that didn’t matter. We had both broken our marriage vows. The playing field had been leveled by a few wonderful minutes with Nick Patron.
We were both cheaters: Kyle had just done it first and done it repeatedly.
My grandfather was a Pentecostal preacher. One of his favorites sayings was: the sins of one does not excuse the sins of another.
Amen, grandpa. Amen.
As I sat on the toilet waiting for another man’s sperm to drain from within me, I felt no guilt; at least not in the measure I would have years ago before I knew that Kyle had never been faithful to me. There was also no remorse for what I’d done, though I wondered if I moved too fast in having sex with Nick so quickly. But as I said before, the fact that I saw Kyle cheating with my own eyes on the same day that I met and flirted shamelessly with another man had to be more than coincidental. I’d never flirted with anyone other than my husband, and I wasn’t sure why I flirted with Nick that particular day. It was as if a little voice inside my head was prodding me on because it knew something I didn’t. It was almost as if our tryst was meant to be.
My purse buzzed. I picked it up off the sink and found my cellphone inside. It was Kyle calling. I hesitated for moment, then couldn’t resist answering his call. I was dying to hear what the lying SOB had to say for himself. I was also dying to tell him that I’d just fucked another man in a public restroom. And not just any man, but a man he desperately hated. His old archenemy; Nick Patron. If Kyle was Batman, I’d just been fucked by the Joker. Actually, the analogy works better the other way around.
I tapped the answer button and barked into the phone. “What?”
“Fee? Fee? Where are you?” There was an air of desperation in his voice that made me frown. I’d never heard Kyle sound so shaken before. He kept repeating my name in a pleading tone. “Fee? Fee? Are you there?”
“What do you want, Kyle?” I asked spitefully. “Tired of Wendy Lowenstein already?”
“Fee, it’s mother. She’s had a heart attack,” he said, his voice cracking. I could tell he was sniffing back tears. “It’s bad, Fee. I need you. Mother needs you. Please. You have to get to Memorial Hospital right away.”
CHAPTER SIX: Nick
I slid back into the booth and waved over the waitress who was eyeing me from the bar. I ordered another round of drinks and told her to close out my tab and add a hundred-dollar tip for herself and a hundred for the bartender. She gave me a little smile and hesitated for a moment, as if she was expecting me to ask for something more. When I didn’t say anything more, she went off to fetch the drinks.
Watching her walk away, I tried to recall if I had banged her at some point in the past. She was certainly bang-worthy, with big brown eyes and big boobs and a big Kardashian ass, but my memory came up blank. That didn’t mean that I hadn’t banged her. It just meant that it wasn’t memorable enough to register.
I stifled a yawn with the back of my hand and dug my phone from inside my jacket. I figured I would check my messages while I waited for Fiona to come out of the restroom.
In the old days, my email inbox and voicemail would have been blowing up with trash emails, calls, and solicitations, but these days the only items to hit my inbox were screened, flagged, and forwarded by my personal assistant, Jenna. And since very few people had my number, I rarely got calls or voicemails.
Jenna was Jesse’s niece and the one who organized my life and kept me on schedule. She was like family and I trusted her implicitly. Since letting her take control of my calendar and communications, my life had gotten a lot easier and I had added hours to my day that I could now spend doing more productive things. Like sitting in a dark bar at closing time waiting for the woman I wanted to spend the night with to come out of the john.
There was nothing in my phone cue that required my immediate attention at one in the morning. I was about to log out of email and turn off my phone when I had a thought.
I opened a new email message and typed Jenna’s email address in the To field. In the subject field, I typed: Background Check (Private).
In the body of the email I typed: Jenna – First thing Monday please run a background check on Fiona Kassidy (with a K), PR for the Northeast Animal Rescue Fund. Results for my eyes only. Thanks. NP.
The waitress returned with our drinks before Fiona returned from the restroom. She set the drinks on the table and had me sign the tab, then said thanks and walked away with no long looks or expectations this time. I glanced at my watch as I picked up my drink. It had been fifteen minutes since I’d left Fiona alone in the restroom. How long did it take a woman to wipe off her cooch and take a piss? She was probably fussing with her hair and makeup, which was totally unnecessary since I planned to mess them up again as soon as w
e got into the back of my limo. Then the little hairs on the back of my neck started to tingle. Something was up. Something I was sure I wasn’t going to like.
I scooted out of the booth and went back into the hallway. The women’s restroom door was closed. I knocked on it, but Fiona didn’t reply. I turned the knob and opened the door. The restroom was empty. I backed out of the restroom just as the waitress was coming in to use it. We practically smacked into one another. She put her hands on my chest and licked her lips, as if she thought I’d orchestrated meeting her there.
“I’m sorry, my friend was in there,” I said, taking a step back from her. I nodded down the hallway that led away from the bar entrance. “Is there an exit down there by any chance?”
She blew out a disappointed sigh and said, “Yes, go to the end of the hall and turn right and you can exit through the kitchen.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said. I must have sounded disappointed because she asked if I was okay and if she could do anything else for me. I ignored her final attempt at flirtation, said I was fine, and went back into the bar.
Confused, and more than a little pissed off, I went back to the booth and finished both our drinks, then took out my phone before I remembered that I didn’t have Fiona’s number. Even if I did, what was I going to do? Call her and congratulate her for being the first woman to ever fuck me and dump me in the same night?