“We had to be quick, huh, Kim?” said Brad. “I wasn’t a long fuck. But man, it was a good one. You had your hands planted right there and there and you had your eyes closed, and I kissed your neck as I did you. Remember?”
Kim nodded quickly, squeezing her thighs together again and again, almost grinding them. And I stood there in silence, glaring at Brad, but my cock was straining. God, the image of him in my head, all muscle and power, pumping his hips into her from behind, her breasts bouncing and shaking as he took her. It was almost as if all three of us were back in the library, a decade ago, sharing the moment. And in reality, I thought angrily, I was probably upstairs at the time like a good little boy, studying away, unaware any of this was happening. And after they were done, Brad probably found me and dumped my books in the pool again.
Brad suddenly grabbed my wife and pulled her up against the shelves. For a second, I thought he was going to try to talk her into reenacting the story, but he held her facing him, this time. One hand reached up and--God! His hand was on her breast! His palm cupped the weight of her, lifting gently, and then his thumb went to work, rubbing over her nipple. This time there was enough moonlight coming through the window that I could actually see it stiffen, see the outline begin to stand out through her bra and dress.
“Stop!” I said, and my voice was a low croak. “Stop it!”
“I will stop it,” said Brad. He kept fondling her breast. “As soon as Kim tells me to.”
I looked at Kim. She was staring into Brad’s eyes with a sort of helpless longing, like I’d imagine a drug addict would look at a loaded syringe. When her eyes flicked to me for a second, she barely seemed to see me.
We all want to be younger. We all want to go back to our youth and have those days over again. I think that was part of it--Brad made her feel like she was in her twenties again, young and free. Whereas I was a reminder that she was in her thirties with a job and a mortgage weighing her down.
“Do you want me to kiss you again, Kim?” Brad asked her. “Seems like we used to do plenty of that, down here where no one was looking.”
No! I stared at my wife desperately. Don’t do it! But when she glanced in my direction, her eyes seemed hazy and unfocused. She looked back to Brad and nodded breathlessly.
Brad pressed closer to her and took possession of her mouth. His lips were hard and demanding, his tongue thrusting between her lips almost before it reached them, but he didn’t have to pressure her. Her lips were flowering open beneath his instantly, and I heard her give a deep moan of submission as her eyes closed. She wanted the kiss at least as much as he did.
The material of her green dress was stretchy. Stretchy enough that Brad was able to grip the front of it and tug it down almost all the way over one full breast, exposing her bra. Because the dress was backless, Kim was wearing one of those strapless bras that’s really no more than just the cups. Brad yanked it roughly out of the way, dropping it to the floor and, suddenly, my wife’s breast was exposed, right there in the moonlit library. And then his hand was on it, his palm dragging back and forth over her nipple, and she groaned.
This was too much. I could feel my cock stiffening again against my thigh, but I couldn’t let this go on. I started forward, my hands lifting to grab Brad’s shoulder and pull him away.
Without looking round, he straight-armed me in the chest with his free hand. Unprepared, I went staggering backward, almost falling.
Brad lifted his lips from my wife’s for a second. “Fuck off, Louis. Go back to your dorm room and wait, if you don’t want to play. I’ll get her back to you later.”
My head spun. Play?! Was this what this was to him—a game? Get her back to me later? After he fucked her? That was clearly his intention. But Kim wouldn’t let it go that far...would she? I stared at them. Brad had pushed forward between her legs, now, one hand fondling her breast as he kissed her deeply. He was grinding his groin against hers and she was starting to moan.
Suddenly, just as I thought he was going to grind her all the way to another orgasm, he broke the kiss and stepped back. I didn’t miss the soft moan of disappointment my wife gave.
“Come on,” said Brad, pulling the front of her dress up to cover her breast. “Plenty more stops to go.”
Chapter 7
At first, I couldn’t understand why he’d stopped so abruptly when Kim had so obviously wanted him to continue. But when I saw how she followed him eagerly out of the library, actually hurrying to catch him as he walked out the door, I got it. He’d taken her to the edge and left her there, frustrated, and now she was putty in his hands.
This time as we walked, Brad had his arm around my wife’s waist. Anyone seeing us walking across the campus would have assumed that they were the married couple and I was a hanger-on.
And I couldn’t deny that, together, they made a better-looking couple than she and I had. Whereas we were almost the same height, he was nearly a head taller than her. Whereas I was slender for a guy, he had the footballer’s build that complemented her graceful, sexy body. And whereas I often felt outclassed by her beauty, he was--I had to admit--good looking enough to match her. They looked like a couple of models as they strolled along together.
The next stop was the English department. Brad led us along darkened corridors until we stopped in front of a polished oak door--one of the professor’s offices.
“Professor Hastings,” read Brad. “I guess he’s new. Back in our day, this was Professor Roycefield. Do you remember Roycefield, Kim?”
Kim flushed and squirmed.
“See, Kim saw Roycefield giving her the eye during lectures. He was...what, in his forties, in those days?”
“Shut up, Brad,” said Kim weakly.
“But he should know, Kim.” Brad smiled at me. “You must have heard the stories about college lecturers and female students. What happens when some hot, female student is flunking the course.”
My jaw dropped. “He pressured you to sleep with him? To boost your grades?” I felt sick.
Brad laughed and shook his head. “Oh, Louis. You really don’t know her at all, do you? But you know how smart she is. It was in our final year. She could have passed Roycefield’s class with her pretty little eyes closed.” He paused for effect. “Could have. But didn’t.”
I stared at my wife. “You deliberately did bad work? So that he’d—”
Kim squirmed again. “It was a game,” she whispered. “A sex game I played with Professor Roycefield.”
Brad threw back his head and laughed. “Roycefield loved it. He’d get some essay from her, full of mistakes, and he knew that meant he’d be getting a visit from her.” He leaned close to me. “So he could discipline her. And she could try to boost her grades with an oral exam.”
I shook my head slowly. Why would she deliberately put herself in that situation? I could sort of understand her attraction to Brad, but a man twice her age?
Kim and I locked eyes. “You wouldn’t understand,” she said.
“Tell him what you did, Kim,” said Brad. And his hand slid down to her ass and squeezed her there, then rubbed slowly to encourage her.
Kim closed her eyes. A tiny hint of a smile was teasing at the edges of her mouth--she was turned on by the memory. “I unzipped his pants,” she said, “and knelt down in front of his chair.”
“Did you lock the door?” asked Brad. He was grinning, as if he already knew the answer.
Kim shook her head. “It didn’t lock. So we knew anyone could come in. I bent forward and...sucked his cock.”
I was breathing hard, my face slowly contorting into a mask of rage. And yet I could feel my cock throbbing and swollen in my pants, aching to be touched. The mental image of her, a twenty-two year-old, on her knees in front of an older man, was incredibly vivid. I could see her blonde tresses hanging down over the knees of his suit pants, her breasts rising and falling under a tight, bubblegum-pink top, red lipstick smeared as she—
“She told me that he liked them all
sloppy,” said Brad. “Lots of spit.”
Kim nodded. Her face was red but she was breathing even harder than I was, lost in the memory.
“And when he came, she didn’t spit,” said Brad. His hand was still stroking her ass. “He didn’t want to make mess in his office, you see. So he got her to swallow. And you swallowed it all down, didn’t you, Kim?”
Kim nodded. She looked almost drunk on lust. All I could do was to stand there gaping, realizing how little I’d known about her. I’d thought she was innocent at college--maybe not a virgin, like me, maybe she’d had a couple of boyfriends, but innocent. But the way Brad told it, the two of them had fucked all over campus, and she’d been playing twisted sex games with at least one of her professors. And she and Brad had had the kind of relationship where she could tell him all this, and he’d kiss her and stroke her hair and be fine with it...hell, maybe he’d even encouraged it.
“Come on,” said Brad. “We’re nearly done.”
***
We passed the football field and the adjacent buildings housing the locker rooms. “You remember what nearly happened there, Kim?” Brad asked, pointing.
I saw her blush, and she looked at the ground, unable to answer. But I could see her breasts rise and fall as she breathed hard, almost panting at whatever the memory was. What the hell had been planned there? Why hadn’t it happened?
Brad led us off the campus and through the streets where many of the fraternity and sorority houses were located. He finally stopped in front of an old-fashioned place with pink roses winding their way over the door. It was a warm night and we could smell their fragrance drifting on the breeze.
“Remember this, Kim?” he asked. “Your old sorority.”
I frowned. When I’d met Kim, it had been close to graduation. She’d come to my place, but I’d never gotten around to seeing hers. Or maybe she was keeping me away from it, I realized.
“Remind me who there was?” said Brad. “You. Taylor. Roberta. Francesca. What was the last one called?”
“Simone,” said Kim in a distant voice. She was gazing at the house, but it was as if she was seeing a whole different version--one from ten years before.
“Pity we can’t go in,” said Brad. “But I only have the keys to campus buildings. We could have gone in and looked at your old room, Kim. Or maybe Taylor’s room.”
What was that supposed to mean?!
Brad turned to me. “See, Kim had a special relationship with Taylor. They were close. Really close.”
My eyes widened even as my cock ached. But Kim isn’t--She’s not--
“I was experimenting,” said Kim, by way of explanation.
“Seems to me like you did a lot of experimenting,” said Brad. “A whole couple of years of experiments.”
I couldn’t believe it. I’d only ever dreamed of my wife and another woman. Now my mind was full of images of her beautiful face pressing between another woman’s thighs, her tongue questing into tight folds.
“I think Louis is a little shocked,” said Brad. “What’s the matter, Louis? Did you think you were the first one--man or woman--to dip your wick in Kim’s honeypot?”
I felt my hands form fists. “Don’t talk about her like that!” I snapped.
“Like what? Like a slut? But that’s what I’m trying to tell you, Louis. Kim was kind of a slut, back in college.” He put a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to look at him. She was blushing furiously now. “But I loved her for it. See, that’s the difference between you and me. I like that she needs to get off a lot.”
The irony was that I’d always wished Kim was more adventurous. Why had I never known this side of her? Why had she never shown it to me? Was it something she was trying to leave in her past...or was it that I just didn’t bring it out in her the way Brad did?
“Now come on,” said Brad. “Tour’s over. Time to head to my old frat house. You remember that place, don’t you, Kim? I’m throwing a party there tonight. Got most of the old fraternity coming.” He glanced at me. “You can come too, Louis, if you want.”
I shook my head, attempting to throw off the haze of lust and confusion. “No. No, enough. We did your stupid tour. We’re going home.”
Brad didn’t seem at all fazed by my refusal. “You’re going home,” he said. “But I don’t think Kim is. Are you, Kim?” He smiled at her. “What do you say? A chance to say hi to some of the guys? A little dancing? A few beers?”
I watched as my wife bit her lip. She can’t! It was obvious he planned to fuck her--hell, he’d done everything but that already. She couldn’t go with him! She was married to me!
But, thanks to everything he’d shown her, Kim’s mind wasn’t on me and our marriage and her boring, married life. Brad’s tour had succeeded in taking her back ten years, to a time when she was carefree and willing to try anything. We all want to be young again. He was giving her the opportunity to take a holiday in the past, just for one night.
She stared at me and the conflict was clear on her face. But I could see the lust winning out. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. And went to stand beside Brad.
“You can’t!” I shouted.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I need this.” She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“I’ll get her back to you by sun-up,” said Brad. His mouth twisted into a sneering grin. “Was nice meeting you again, Louis.”
And he turned away, his arm snaking around her waist to draw her to him, and they both started to amble down the street. He was walking away with my wife, and nothing I could do would make a difference.
I stood there, rooted to the sidewalk. I couldn’t go after them. The thought of running into Brad’s old fraternity--Rick and all the others--filled me with raw, cold dread. From the sound of it, they all knew Kim. Having Brad tease me about her past would be bad enough, but having all of them do it would be unbearable.
And yet...if I didn’t go after them...what then? Would Kim really come back to me in the morning, and expect me to just forget about what she’d done? Would I even ever know what she’d done? How would I know if she was telling the truth?
I closed my eyes. This had been Brad’s intention all along, I just knew it. Tell me enough lurid stories about Kim’s past to convince me that she might be unfaithful with him and then take her off somewhere private. Even if she didn’t sleep with him, I’d always wonder...and the doubt would poison our relationship.
The only way to save our marriage was to go along with them. To put up with the humiliation and make sure that she didn’t actually sleep with Brad. I still believed she wouldn’t cross that line. She’d kissed him and let him feel her up, but sex was different. But I had to know for sure.
There was another side of it, too. The idea that something would happen and I wouldn’t be there to see it was unthinkable. That newly-discovered part of me had been in heaven every time Brad brought out another story about her time at college. Actually seeing him kiss and grope her and only made me harder still. I didn’t understand it, didn’t want to even admit it was happening, but the feelings were there, raging hot inside me. I had to see.
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. Brad and Kim were halfway down the street and receding fast.
I ran after them. But Brad’s old frat house turned out to be on the same street. I could hear the music pumping from it while I was still several houses away and there were people standing around in the yard with beers. It was a serious party--exactly the sort I’d never been invited to, back in college.
As I sprinted up the street, Kim and Brad walked in through the gate. I saw the guys in the yard look up as Kim approached, eying her succulent breasts and the curve of her ass under the tight green dress. Within minutes, they’d surrounded her like wolves flocking to a sheep.
I made it to the gate, but I was out of breath. “Kim!” I called, panting. But even if the pumping bass hadn’t drowned out my voice, the happy shouts of Brad’s old fraternity would have. I cou
ldn’t even see Kim anymore--she was completely surrounded by big, wide-shouldered ex-football players as she moved across the yard towards the house.
“Kim!” said one.
“Holy shit, is that really you?!” said another.
“Are you two back together? Did you get married?” said a third. And since they hadn’t even noticed me yet, they must be talking about her and Brad. They hadn’t seen what happened at the sports hall...or they had, and they’d misinterpreted it. After all, it seemed a lot more believable that Kim had married the football captain and not some pale computer science major. I tried to push to the front of the crowd, but the guys were three deep around her and Brad, now. And they were still moving towards the front door. “Wait!” I called. But over the music, no one could hear me.
My insides churned with fear as the crowd disappeared into the house. When I finally managed to get to the steps, a couple of guys who’d remained outside held their arms across like a barrier. I recognized them from my college days--bullies who’d hung around with Brad. “Where do you think you’re going?” one of them asked. He was a broad-shouldered guy with skin so black it was almost blue-black. I knew he’d been on the team with Brad and Rick, but I couldn’t remember his name. “It’s a frat reunion. And I don’t remember you being in the frat.”
“She’s my wife!” I told him. I was still trying to get my breath back. “She’s mine!”
The guy turned slowly to look at the door. “I don’t think so, little man. I remember Kim from college. Hell, I had to try and sleep when the two of them were bangin’ the bed against the wall all night. I figure Brad finally put a ring on her finger. You, I don’t know at all.”
“No! She married me!” I was growing desperate, now. Without me there to slow things down, who knows what they were getting up to inside? “Me! I’m her husband!”
The guy shook his head and stood up. He was a full head taller than me and much wider. His buddy, a big Latino guy whose name I thought I remembered was Antonio, came to stand beside him. There was barely room for them both to stand on the steps. “You seem like an uptight little fuck,” said Antonio. “Now Kim--I remember Kim. She was a real fun girl, back in the day. I don’t think she would have wound up with someone like you.”
Cuckolded at the College Reunion Page 5