by Weeks, Abby
Gabe threw some cash on the table and gathered up his things and then took Ariel by the hand and led her out of the restaurant. In the parking lot she led him toward her car. She realized what it was that was exciting her. For all the years that she’d been married to Gabe, he’d been the cheater. She’d figured out a way to live with that for a while, she’d told herself whatever she needed to believe to get through each day, but in the end the marriage had fallen apart because of it. Now she was beginning to realize that during those years, she hadn’t just been jealous of Gabe, she’d been jealous of the girls he was cheating with. She’d wondered what it would be like to be one of those women, one of those lucky women who could enjoy Gabe’s company, let him buy them dinner, flirt with him, fuck him, and then go home knowing that they had just fucked some other woman’s husband. They weren’t the victim of his philandering. They could enjoy him, they could enjoy every inch of him, and all the time they would know that he had a wife at home who was paying the price for it.
Well, now she was that woman. She could enjoy Gabe, she could kiss him right in front of everyone in this fancy restaurant, and it was Lucy who had to worry about where he was and what he was up to. Now it was her turn to have all the fun, and Lucy got all the work. It was ideal!
III
ZOLA LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW at the passing city streets. Jake was driving.
“What bar is it?” Zola said. She felt very strange. She wasn’t sure what emotion to feel. She looked at Jake, her husband. He was humming along to the radio. She’d never seen him in such a good mood. He was so excited. He hadn’t even been this happy on their wedding night! He hadn’t been this excited the first time they’d made love. This was what excited him.
“It’s a place on Vine,” he said. “You won’t have heard of it.”
Zola was worried. She’d lived in LA her whole life. She knew what people meant when they said you wouldn’t have heard of a place.
“What style is it?” she said.
“Quit worrying,” Jake said. “It’s Irish.”
She nodded. She knew it was going to be an awful place. She was beginning to feel cheap, dirty. She was allowing her own husband to drive her to a bar to meet another man, a stranger, a pervert from the Internet who liked to fuck other men’s wives. How had she been reduced to this? She was a good woman, a nice person, a loving wife. She knew she deserved more than this.
“Have you been there before?” she said.
Jake nodded.
“To meet women?”
Jake didn’t respond. He kept his eyes on the road. He was driving faster than he should. He could get pulled over. Zola could tell he was excited, impatient to get to the bar.
They pulled up outside the place and Jake parked the car. Zola sat there next to him, waiting. She wasn’t sure what to do?
“What are you waiting for?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Are you coming in?”
“It’s not my date,” Jake said. “It’s yours.”
Zola didn’t know what to say to that. It was his date. He’d arranged every bit of it. He’d taken her picture, created the profile, made contact with the man. He’d set up the date, the time and place, he’d even supervised her while she got dressed. He’d said his reputation was on the line and he didn’t want her letting him down. It was as if she was a piece of his property, a sports car he owned, and he was letting his buddies take her for a test drive. She felt sick.
“Is it really a date?” she said.
“What else would you call it?”
She didn’t know. She didn’t want to make him mad, she didn’t want to get in a fight, the whole point of this was to try and get closer to him, to get him to love her more.
“You’re right,” she said, trying to smooth things over. She knew she was going too far, no woman should be agreeing to something like this as a way to connect with her husband, but she was desperate. She was afraid he’d get bored of her and kick her out and then where would she be? She knew women from her neck of the woods who’d done a lot worse than this. The man she was meeting might even be nice.
“So what should I do?” she said to Jake.
“Just do whatever he wants. It’s a date. Just go along with it, enjoy it. It’s supposed to be fun.”
“It is fun,” she lied.
“Just make me proud. He’s going to be on the forum tomorrow telling everyone what you’re like. If he says you’re frigid I’ll die.”
“I won’t let you down,” Zola said. She looked up at him. She didn’t know what she was looking for, support, friendship, love? She didn’t get any of those things. “What’s his name again?”
“I told you. Peter. Now go, and don’t let me down.”
“Are you waiting out here?”
“I’m going somewhere else for a drink. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay,” Zola said and she got out of the car. She felt utterly alone on the sidewalk. Jake pulled away immediately and drove off. She felt like she had no husband, like a hooker being dropped off by her pimp. How had her life become this?
*
SHE WENT INTO THE BAR. It was a dingy, dark little place with black, wooden tables and a long bar against the back wall. A few younger guys were playing pool at the front. Jake had said it was an Irish bar but there wasn’t much Irish about it other than the name. Neon beer signs gave the place an eerie, reddish glow.
She took a stool at the bar.
“What can I get you?” the bartender said. He was an overweight, balding man wearing a Dodgers T-shirt.
“How about a beer?” she said.
She felt silly waiting there at the bar. She was dressed in a very skimpy, black dress that hardly covered her thighs. It was cut low at the front, revealing a huge amount of cleavage. She remembered getting her boobs done. She’d done that for Jake too. She’d thought that would make him love her more. Now she could see that it had just made her a more valuable piece of property that he owned, something even more desirable that he could share with his friends.
“Zola Medeiros,” a voice said from behind her.
She was taking a sip of her beer and she swallowed it. She turned and saw the man, Peter. She’d had no idea what he was going to look like. The men posted hundreds of pictures of their wives but never thought to post a picture of themselves. Maybe that was part of it. The men were the owners, it didn’t matter what they looked like. The wives were the property to be shared.
“You must be Peter,” Zola said as he leaned in and kissed her on the cheeks awkwardly.
Peter took the stool next to her. She looked him over. He was wearing plain jeans, the high-waisted kind that looked old-fashioned to Zola. He also had on a pair of generic sneakers and a T-shirt that said Las Vegas on it. He didn’t look rich. For some reason Zola had expected all the men on the forum to be wealthy. This guy looked like he drove a bus for a living. He had a big gut, hairy arms, and a messy mop of light brown hair under his ball cap. He was about forty-five, Jake’s age.
“The one and only,” Peter said as his eyes crawled over her. They lingered on her cleavage for a good fifteen seconds before meeting her eyes.
She had no idea what to say. “This is my first time doing this,” she said.
“So I hear. Don’t worry, Jake told me to go easy on you.” He winked.
Zola smiled. She supposed she should be grateful for that. “Are you married?” she said.
“Happily,” Peter said. “Coming up on twenty-two years this fall.”
“Congratulations,” Zola said.
“My wife is a very big admirer of your husband actually.”
“Oh,” Zola said. Of course it made sense, why wouldn’t Jake have slept with this man’s wife? He was from the same forum. But it caught her off-guard. It was just so strange.
The bartender came over and Peter ordered a pitcher of beer. Zola was still sipping on her bottle of Corona. “Two glasses,” Peter said to the bartender, “and how about a couple of shots? You
want a shot?”
“Tequila?” Zola said. Getting drunk sounded like a good idea.
“So, I suppose I should say thank you for meeting me,” Peter said.
“It’s my pleasure,” Zola said.
“Is this all your husband’s idea?”
“I guess so,” Zola said, “but I’m one-hundred percent into it.”
“That’s how it is with my wife. I was the one who wanted to start it, but now it’s something that we both really enjoy.”
“How many times have you shared her?” Zola said.
“Well, over the course of two years, hell, I don’t know. You kind of lose count after a while!” Peter said, laughing a little to himself.
Zola smiled but only out of politeness. She took a long swig of her beer. The bartender brought the pitcher and their shots over. Zola picked up the tequila and downed it in an instant.
“You seem thirsty,” Peter said.
Zola poured herself and Peter some beer. If she was going to have to fuck this man then she might as well be drunk. She still couldn’t believe that her husband had put her in this position but she was determined to overcome it.
Peter wasn’t exactly the kind of man that Zola would have described as attractive. If any of her friends saw her in this dingy bar, sitting with this overweight guy in his dirty T-shirt she would have died of embarrassment. But her friends weren’t here. Her husband wasn’t here. No one was here except for herself and Peter. And if this was what her life demanded, then this was what she was going to do. There was no backing out now.
Peter put a hand on her knee. She looked at him. She had absolutely no idea where she stood in this situation. He squeezed her leg gently, his thick, long fingers on the soft flesh above her knee. She smiled at him. She had to, didn’t she?
IV
ARIEL LEANED AGAINST HER CAR. She felt like a teenager again being walked out to her car by a boy. There was something so delicious about flirting with Gabe, something forbidden and naughty about it. She wondered if the State of California had any view on former spouses getting it on together. The court system had to do a lot of work to divorce people, and here she and Gabe were, right after their divorce, on the edge of falling into bed together.
Gabe came up to her, leaned on her. She felt the weight of his body against hers and it thrilled her. She never in a million years would have thought she could be excited about Gabe like this. When she’d decided to break up with him she would have been happy if someone told her she’d never set eyes on him again. The flame in their relationship had long been extinguished. All those years of marriage had put out the fire of their passion. But now, standing here in the parking lot, the warm night air caressing her, she wanted nothing more than Gabe’s tongue in her mouth.
Gabe put his arms around her. His hands slid down her back and stopped just above her butt. She wanted him to squeeze her butt cheeks but he didn’t. She looked into his eyes. He tried to kiss her but she leaned back. She was playing with him.
“What would Lucy say if she saw us doing this?”
Gabe smiled at her. He seemed a little embarrassed. “She wouldn’t be very pleased.”
“Are you and her still an item?”
He nodded.
“So tell me this, Gabe. Did you ever cheat on me with Lucy when we were still together?”
Gabe said nothing but she could tell from the look on his face that he had.
“And now you want to cheat on her with me?” she said.
Gabe looked across the lot. The lights of cars on the freeway were flashing past in the distance.
“There’s something wrong with me,” he said. “I just can’t help it. I really am an addict.”
“There is something wrong with you,” she said, and she reached down to where his erect cock was pressed up against his jeans and gently squeezed it. “You’ve got to admit this is crazy. You had me, and you cheated on me. Now you have the girl you wanted, and you’re here with me cheating on her.”
Gabe nodded. He leaned in and this time Ariel let him kiss her. His tongue slid into her mouth and she met it with her own. She pressed her tongue against his. It was delicious. It was so deliciously naughty.
“To hell with it,” Ariel said when he finished kissing her. “Consider this my revenge. This is my revenge on Lucy and all the other girls you fucked while you were my husband. Now I’m the one doing the fucking and they’re the ones waiting at home for you, wondering where you are.”
*
WHEN THEY GOT TO THE Holiday Inn they practically ran to the check-in counter. Ariel couldn’t wait to get to their room. She wanted Gabe so much it surprised her. She’d slept with this man literally thousands of times before, but this was different. All those other times had been as his wife. He’d had to sleep with her. It was his duty. This was completely different. He didn’t have to sleep with her at all. In fact, he had a perfectly lovely twenty-something-year-old waiting for him at home. And yet, here he was. With her!
In the elevator he grabbed her and kissed her passionately. She reached down to his pants again and opened the button. She slid her hand inside and felt the massive girth of that cock she knew so well. It hadn’t changed one bit. It was the same penis she’d known her entire life as a married woman. But something was different. This felt like an affair. It felt adventurous and exciting. She felt as if she was getting with a man she’d never been with before.
The elevator stopped on the seventh floor and Gabe pulled her out into the corridor. Her hand was still down his pants and she stumbled along with him, his arm around her, her hand holding his cock. If anyone saw them they’d have thought they were drunk.
Gabe opened the room and Ariel didn’t even have time to look around and take it in. Usually when she got to a hotel room she checked everything, looked the place over, made herself feel settled. This time she just let Gabe pull her onto the large bed and slide his tongue deep into her mouth.
She loved making out with him. She loved being the one he cheated with, instead of the one he cheated on.
“Do whatever you want to me, Gabe,” she whispered.
He was licking her neck, his tongue getting lower and lower toward her cleavage. She rose up from the bed and let him unzip her dress. He pulled the bodice off her and then unclasped her bra. Her breasts were right there in front of him. She knew he’d seen them a million times before but she felt as if she was a young girl on display for the very first time.
“You just get more beautiful every time I see you,” Gabe said.
He leaned forward and began sucking her nipples. His mouth felt soft and warm and wet. Ariel arched her back and sighed as the pleasure flowed from her nipples through to the rest of her body. She pressed her pelvis against him.
“Gabe,” she whispered.
“What is it, Ariel?”
“I want you to treat me like one of your young girls. One of the girls you cheated on me with.”
“What?”
“Whatever you used to do to them, when we were married, do that to me. Pretend I’m one of them.”
Gabe said nothing. He pressed his mouth against hers. She stuck her tongue into his mouth and he sucked on it gently.
“Pretend I’m one of your whores,” she said when he stopped.
The way Gabe was looking at her she could tell he was surprised. She didn’t care. She didn’t have to care what he thought of her anymore. She didn’t have to keep up appearances. She wanted to be a slut.
Gabe pulled her up and turned her around so that she had her back to him. She was looking at the wall on her hands and knees.
He pulled her dress off the rest of the way and then her panties. Then he stripped. Ariel felt so exposed, so vulnerable. Gabe was the first man she’d ever slept with and this was her first time sleeping with him since their divorce.
His face was right behind her. She waited. She could feel the heat of his breath on her ass, on her vagina. Then she felt his mouth make contact. His tongue reached into the
lips of her pussy and licked her so softly that it almost tickled. He ran his tongue back along the mouth of her vagina toward her anus. She gasped. Before she knew it, his tongue was on her anus, licking it in quick circles. She’d never felt anything like it. It felt so good she wanted to cry out. Why had he never done this to her before? Did men treat their wives differently from other women? She didn’t know the answer to that.
“Oh god, Gabe,” she cried out.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he said from behind her.
“Give it to me.”
He got up and held her ass firmly in his two strong hands.
“I’m all yours,” she said. “Fuck me hard.”
She looked back at him. It was strange. In all the years they’d been together they’d never had sex like this.
“Don’t look at me,” Gabe said.
“What?”
“Look forward.”
Ariel did as she was told. She looked at the wall and felt Gabe’s thick, manly cock press up against the lips of her vagina. It slid into her so deliciously, so smoothly, that she sighed out loud as it entered. Gabe thrust forward and then she gasped as the full length of that cock plowed right into her.
“Oh, Gabe,” she sighed.
And then she was really surprised. He took a finger and gently touched it against her anus. She pressed back against it.
“Do it,” she said.
He pressed his finger deep into her anus. The sensation was overwhelming. He’d never ever done that to her before. She wanted to know why but she couldn’t ask him. She couldn’t speak. She was overpowered with pleasure as his cock slid slowly back and forth inside her pussy while at the same time his finger slid in and out of her asshole.
“Oh God,” she cried.
He thrust into her faster and faster, his cock and his finger driving into her harder and harder, faster and faster. Eventually, when she felt she could no longer stand the orgy of sensation that was welling up in her asshole and pussy she felt the throbbing of Gabe’s cock. He was coming. His semen was squirting into her just as it had when they were married. It was the same man, the same semen, but everything about this orgasm was different. When they’d been married he’d been polite to her, he’d been kind and accommodating and thoughtful. Now he was being fierce and animalistic. She could tell his orgasm was more intense, more lustful and forceful. He cried out louder than she’d ever heard him cry out before. How was she to know that this was what he’d wanted all those years they’d been married? How was any married woman to know that this was what her man really wanted?