by Vivian Ward
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 different 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 wa
nted 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 sucking 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.
“Yes, please,” my voice is still shaky.
I’m glad it’s a weekday, and his neighbors aren’t home because as loud as he made me moan, they might have called the police.
He returns with my bottled water just as I’m slipping my flats back on and collecting my purse and phone.
“When can I see you again?” he asks, opening my water for me before he hands it to me.
“I don’t know. We’ve talked about it before, and we both decided that we’d only like to do this sort of thing about once or twice a month.”
I take a long gulp of the cold water, and it feels refreshing. I hadn’t realized how dry my mouth was until I started drinking the water and now I can’t stop. Downing half the bottle, I wipe my mouth and smile.
“Sorry, I was thirsty,” I explain.
He grins and waves his hand like it’s nothing.
“What would it take to get to see you more?” he asks.
I’m caught off guard by his question.
“What? What do you mean?”
“Cathy, I can’t lie. I need more of that in my life,” he says, pointing toward the bed. “Women like you almost never come around, and the ones that do aren’t ever this good in bed.”
This is my chance. I’ve got him right where I want him. I can see it in his eyes.
“Well,” I say, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind my ear. “Brett might be willing to let me see you more often if we include him in some of this.”
Scott can tell exactly where I’m going with this. He sees the writing on the wall, but I don’t care. This type of lifestyle is sexually empowering and has given me more confidence than it has any right to, and I’m going to own that shit.
He smiles and drops his head, rubbing his eyes.
“Okay, so we have some threesomes, and by doing that, I get to have more one-on-one time with you? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Something like that,” I smile at him. “Look, all we’ve wanted is a threesome. Lots of them, actually, but it seems like all the guys we talk to either flake out, or they just want me to themselves.”
“I got it,” he says, nodding. “I never said I was against having a threesome with the two of you. In fact, I said don’t count me out, but because of the nature of my situation, I was hoping to have you alone more than we involve him.”
I start to open my mouth to speak, but he holds up his hand, stopping me.
“It’s selfish, I know, but it’s true. That’s one thing we’ve all talked about, is being honest with each other. I’m a firm believer in communicating whether it’s with my wife or on your end of things. I’m just trying to keep it real.”
“This morning was great,” I hug him. “Think it over. And just because I want to include him, it doesn’t necessarily mean you won’t still get me to yourself. There’s a great probability that you’ll get to have me all alone while he just watches.”
He releases me out of his arms and gives me one last kiss before I slip out the door.
“I’ll do that,” he agrees. “Will you try to see me again soon?”
“Maybe,” I wink at him. “Of course, I will. I thoroughly enjoyed myself this morning.”
Driving home to Brett, I send him a text letting him know I’m almost there as I gulp down the other half of my water. Something tells me that I’m going to need all of the hydration I can get before the day’s over.
Chapter 19
“Wow, babe,” I roll off of Brett as he recovers from his second orgasm. “How do you still have any energy left today?” he asks.
“Just do,” I grin ear to ear at him. “You’re not going to get any of the rest of your work done today, are you?”
I’ve only been back home for an hour and a half, and we’ve already had two rounds, and I can tell that we’re nowhere near done.
With the way things are, I could easily stay in bed making love to him all day, but I know we only have until the kids come home from school.
“I’ll get it done later,” he kisses the top of my head that’s resting on his chest. “I’m glad you had a good
time this morning.”
I grin, looking up at him.
“It was a very good time.”
“Did he ask when he’ll see you again?”
I sit up and steal a drink of water from Brett’s cup that’s on his side of the bed.
“Actually,” I swallow the water. “He did ask me about that.”
“I figured he would,” Brett grins at me.
Not to toot my own horn, but I am pretty good in bed. I giggle as I snuggle back into his arms.
“Yeah, he did. He said he wants to see me more than once or twice a month, especially because of his circumstances,” I say, meaning his wife and her medical condition.
“What did you say to that?”
I detect concern in his voice. He might like to share me a little, but not all the time. We’ve talked about that plenty.
“I told him that you might be willing to give him more one-on-one time if he agreed to include you more.”
“What did he say to that?” his concern turns to amusement.
See, your wife is one smart cookie when it comes to working out deals. Isn’t she?
“I think he’s going to go for it. He wasn’t exactly enthused by it, obviously, but he seemed to be considering it. Hopefully, he takes me up on the offer.” I look over at my husband and can tell he’s thinking about something.
“I’m sorry, I hope you’re not mad. I just figured it’s a way for us to get what we want and still give him what he wants.”
Brett looks at me and gives a faint smile, still in deep thought.
“No, I’m not mad. It’s genius. I mean, as long as you don’t mind seeing him more often. All I want is for you to be happy, and if you don’t want to go over there all the time, you don’t have to. That’s not why we started doing this.”
I climb in his lap as he sits up, resting my head on his shoulder as the ceiling fan spins above us.
“I don’t think I’ll mind,” I say. “We had an excellent time today, and I wouldn’t mind more of him. Are you sure you’re not mad?”
I keep my eyes trained on the mini-blinds, afraid to look up at him.