Courtney rose off the couch, setting her Kindle on the coffee table. The blanket she’d had on her lap fell away, revealing that she’d taken her leggings off. Her sweater fell to the tops of her thighs, giving her a cute, sexy look—or a supermodel’s approximation of what “cute” could be.
“Did you have a nice dinner?” she asked.
“I did. It was good to see Charlie.” She stood there, looking amused, and so attractive because of it. “And you? How were drinks?”
Courtney seemed to go somewhere else for a moment, the corners of her lips turning up. “It was fun.”
She may as well have reached between my legs and squeezed me. I couldn’t just stand there any longer. It was like I’d been restrained, and finally I was free. Stepping close, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her hard, tasting her lips and sliding my tongue along hers.
She met my passion with her own, our embrace tightening, intensifying. My hands dove beneath the sweater, squeezing her bare buttocks before I discovered her thong. Impatiently, I pulled back, grabbed the sweater, and whipped it over her head. Courtney gasped, delighted, as our bodies crashed together once again in passion.
We kissed, dancing awkwardly to the bedroom, leaving a trail of my clothing in our wake. I kicked off my boxers, freeing my steel-hard cock from its confines at last. Courtney caught it, squeezed it, then fell to her knees.
Her dark hair was in a ponytail, leaving the view as she wrapped her lips around my prick completely unobstructed. She kept her eyes trained on me, blue and quivering with lust, as she swallowed inch after inch. I groaned at the sensation, and the illicit thought that maybe, just maybe, this was the second cock she’d sucked today.
Courtney pulled back, looking up at me. “You’re so hard,” she said, continuing to pump me with her hand.
“I mean, considering the circumstances, can you blame me?” I said lightly.
“So you’re considering those circumstances?” she asked. My head rang with her suggestion as she returned to sucking my cock, this time with more aggression than she normally did.
I didn’t answer. She knew, anyway. But I also wouldn’t last much longer under this onslaught, with that suggestion floating around in my head. As if sensing my closeness, she sucked down harder, jacking me off in time with each bob. I gnashed my teeth, feeling my balls tighten and my come boil.
“Stop.” I pushed her back and groaned. For a moment, she looked ready to protest. Before she could, I hauled her to her feet and kissed her hard. I was surprised to find that her left hand—her free hand—was crammed down inside of her panties. “Naughty, naughty,” I said.
“You know me,” she said between kisses. “So naughty.”
I turned her around and bent her over the bed. With a yank, I ripped her thong off. Her cry was part glee, part surprise. I wasn’t normally like this with her. We rarely had rough sex. Tonight, I couldn’t hold back.
Before she could regain the upper hand, I placed my cock against her pussy and entered her from behind. “Touch yourself,” I ordered.
With one hand stretched out, clutching the sheets for support, she pushed the other beneath her and did as I told her. I grasped her hips and rammed home, entering her dripping wet cunt. Was she looser than normal? Or was that just how wet she was?
“You feel huge, John,” she moaned.
“And you’re so wet,” I moaned. “Is that for me? Or for whoever you had drinks with?”
At first, she didn’t respond. Not with words. She moaned, shutting her eyes and losing herself in my thrusts. I reached down, grabbing her shoulder, taking control of her body. Using the muscle I’d built over the years of construction, I swung her along my cock with each drive of my hips, the two of us working in tandem as I hit parts of her pussy that I normally couldn’t touch.
“Gah, yes, yes!” she moaned, a mess of sighs and grunts. I slapped her ass and she moaned harder. I did it again, riding her, fucking her, bouncing her on my dick as I thought of her doing this with another man. With a special friend. With Harry Richards. Harry Richards, who wasn’t a name that Courtney had ever mentioned before—not as a friend, not as a boyfriend. He wasn’t one of her three, which meant he was one of her Other Men, one of the guys she’d cheated with. Had she cheated with him tonight?
“Oh, fuck, fuck!” I groaned, exploding inside of her. She tightened beneath me, joining with me in a raw and throaty scream of her own.
She collapsed forward, and I with her, keeping my still hard cock buried deep. We lay there together, catching our breaths, our skin damp and hot. She still wore her bra, I realized, and that made me laugh.
“This new?” I asked, kissing the strap over her shoulder.
“This old thing?” she asked. The twinkle was back. “Yeah. First time I’ve put it on. You like?”
“I like the red.”
She turned onto her side as I reached for the clasp and undid it. “You get it for me?”
She giggled. “Who else would I be buying sexy lingerie for?”
“You tell me.”
I traced my hand along her bare breasts as she turned over more, lying on her back. I kissed her softly, the rabid passion satiated. For now. She said, “Maybe I needed some confidence today.”
“For?” My fingers traced the outline of her nipples, still hard points. I dipped down and sucked on one, drawing a gasp.
“Lot of men come in during the open clinic. Lot of fit, handsome men,” she teased. “Some of them can be so forward.”
I kept my composure, even as my heart began to beat faster. I traced my hand down further, across her abdomen and along the curve of her waist.
“Did one of them ask you out for a drink?” I asked.
“Oh, they do that all the time,” she said. I gasped. “I’ve never gone...”
“Until tonight?”
She laughed musically. “I didn’t say that.”
“Something got you worked up,” I said, pushing my hand at last down between her thighs.
This time, it was my turn to gasp in shock. Where I expected to find her trim bush, I found nothing but impossibly soft skin. I looked, eyes wide, tracing her lean form to the juncture between her legs, where she was now completely bare.
Courtney opened her legs. “You like it? I had that done today, too.”
I traced her hairless mound with my thumb. “Waxed?”
“Full Brazilian. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yes,” I said tightly. Just me, though? Who had she had drinks with, and had he discovered this, too? But my body didn’t let me linger on the question. My body craved hers. I climbed onto her, my dick hard once again, and sank into her, watching my thickness spread her bald pussy.
“You are a bad, bad girl. Aren’t you, Court?”
Something that could have passed for a yes burst from somewhere deep inside of her. I sawed my cock into her harder, spurred by her cries, by her unintelligible response.
She felt so different, softer, wetter, slicker. How could I have missed it during our first round?
“You like me—uh... you like me—fuck... You like me being bad, don’t you?”
“Fuck, Courtney, you’re so hot!”
“That’s it, baby, fuck Courtney. Fuck your bad, bad girl!”
I pinned her hands above her head and mashed my lips against hers, kissing her as I fucked her, ramming my tongue down her throat like punishment. She struggled. I held her fast, our bodies slapping, the bed rutting against the wall, the world receding to blood-pumping red and muscle-aching fire.
I want you to cheat. I formulated the words in the fire of my mind. I tasted them on my lips. I felt them tighten around my balls. I want you to fuck someone else, to get that thrill, and then I want you to come back to me so I can remind you why you will ALWAYS come back to me.
I said none of that. I swallowed it, bottled it up inside, and used that tension to fuel my driving cock. I squeezed her wrists above her head until she cried out, until she rocked her body up a
nd into me in wild ecstasy. “Oh, baby! Oh baby, come! Come!” she screamed.
I roared something I couldn’t understand. My balls burst, yet I kept thrusting, faster, harder, deeper. She was with her lover. She was getting filled by his thick, forbidden cock, and I came with them.
In the come down, I felt like rubber, my brain mush.
“Guess you like the new look,” she said with a tired chuckle.
“You going to keep it?”
“With the kind of response I’ve gotten? How could I not?”
The kind of response I’ve gotten. Like there were multiple. It was a line designed to tease, to get my jealous hackles up. Or maybe it was a slip of her own tongue in the haziness of her climax.
I fell asleep, not sure which it was, but happy with the ambiguity.
Chapter 11
When Courtney woke up before me, and dressed in sexy underwear for work, that was like the Bat Signal for us.
It didn’t happen every day, didn’t happen every week, but it was relatively frequent back then—Courtney said it was because she was having a lot of business meetings, a lot of financial stuff to do with the extra clinic days she was pushing for, and she needed the extra confidence. I knew she was just horny, and wanted me thinking about her in lingerie all day, and the possibility that she might flirt with someone at work, or maybe more. So I’d be extra hard when she came home.
What can I say, it was sweet. We seemed closer as a couple, Courtney seemed happier and more confident in her life, and I gradually stopped worrying about her actually doing something behind my back without telling me, and the possibility of losing her.
I even stopped thinking about Harry Richards.
I was confident, I was happy, I was getting regular attention from the hottest woman on God’s earth. She’d drop little hints here and there, make up stories, create little role-play scenarios where I might get jealous, and I’d lock on to her role-playing and ramp up the testosterone, culminating in ferocious sex.
Yet after a while I came to expect that any little suggestion that Courtney was cheating on me, or might be planning to cheat on me, was merely that: a suggestion. Every time something came up, deep down I would tell myself it was okay, she was just fooling around, she was just playing our game.
It was safe.
Looking back, I can recognize that she pretty much sign-posted the whole jealousy experience for me. She’d make sure I was awake enough in the early morning to notice her dressing in sexy underwear. She’d drop little clues exactly where she knew I’d find them. She presented me with confessions after one of her nights out without me, laying everything out for me in easily digestible form.
I’d completely given up being suspicious of her. That stalker-like behavior I’d presented after Harry Richards came back into her life, that had completely vanished. I trusted her, knew what she was up to, so there really wasn’t any sneaking around to be done. Any doubts I had about her were dispelled.
“I have to hand it to you, all this has you relaxed and self-assured and way less paranoid than I’ve ever seen you,” Charlie said over another one of our regular get-togethers, which always seemed to happen in bars owned by his grateful client.
I cracked a broad smile. “I feel like I don’t need to worry about her running off with another guy. Because what other guy is going to allow her this damn fantasy?”
“There are men out there of like mind,” Charlie warned. “I’ve read up on it a little recently. Trying to figure you out.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He laughed, “It’s why I’m willing to step back and not conspire to get you committed.”
“Well,” I shrugged, “I guess I’m saying I can see a little more why she’s with me, why she still finds me... you know... desirable.”
“So where’s she tonight?”
“Girls’ night out.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Girls’ night out? Since when does Courtney go on girls’ nights out?” he said. “She always had guy friends, and work friends... but not really girlfriends.”
“She’s good friends with Liz, isn’t she?” I said, but I knew Charlie had a point.
“Liz is babysitting for her sister tonight, she’s not out on any kind of girls’ night out,” he said dryly.
“As far as you know,” I teased him. Then I added, “I don’t know... she reconnected with some of her college friends on Facebook. One of them had a baby shower, which she went reluctantly... but then... you know, she suddenly felt she had lots in common with them, so...”
“Uh-huh,” Charlie was sipping his drink and looking at me as though he were my shrink again, not my friend. “And this group of college buddies, now they go out once a week... she doesn’t really tell you where... she turns off her phone while she’s out with them...”
I merely laughed at him. “I don’t keep her on a short leash, you know. She can do as she likes...”
“Don’t tell me, sometimes she disappears for hours at a time and tells you she’s been shopping... but she doesn’t always come back with any actual purchases...”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Hey, she’s just discovering the whole work-life balance thing, and that fact that ever since college she’s been on the wrong side of it.”
“You have to be to be a damn doctor,” he said. “I should know.”
“Well, now she’s in a position to redress the balance a little. Relax, let her hair down.”
“And you’re actually hoping she’ll... cheat?”
I shrugged. “If she’s in danger of doing it... I don’t think I’m so worried any more. I think she knows that if anything happened... she’d only have to tell me about it, and... we’d reconnect.”
Charlie sighed. “Women aren’t always like that, buddy. People aren’t always like that. It’s clear her social patterns have been changing recently, and that’s sometimes—often—a sign of marital problems. Adultery. She might think you’re on board, but she might doubt you. Or she might meet someone who makes her forget about you.”
“It’s not like that,” I said.
He nodded. Drank a toast to Courtney and I. “I know you both, I’m sure she’d never do anything like that to you.”
But something in his tone troubled me. I don’t know if it was the genuine sense that he believed Courtney might damage our relationship, or if he simply continued to quietly disapprove of what we were doing, how easy I was making it for Courtney, or possibly how Courtney might be exploiting this strange desire I happened to hold just now.
But she’d had plenty of girls’ nights out since that baby shower, and I was completely trusting in her. She’d come back and tell me if any guys hit on her, if she’d ended up dancing with anyone, if anyone had given her their number.
She knew any of that would get me going, and she liked to impart that kind of information when she got home. She made it look as though she would have wanted to take things further, but it was difficult when she was actually out with a bunch of college buddies, who were Facebook buddies as well.
I’d encouraged her to flirt, to chat, to even dance with other guys if ever she got the chance, and she knew how I’d respond if anything like that actually happened. So why wouldn’t she tell me if some guy ended up making out with her?
It was this game of ours. The girls’ nights out were merely another way she could play the jealousy game, another way she could get out of the apartment for an evening, take her new social freedom for a ride, and continue the thrill ride our sex lives had become when she got back.
No matter how much I described this situation as perfect for me, that night Charlie parted ways with me with an uneasy expression on his face.
“What?” I said to him, with an awkward laugh. “You don’t believe me, do you? That I really want this.”
He pursed his lips. “I just think... you’ve created a protection mechanism for yourself, man. Only, rather than just protect yourself in the event of her cheating... you’re pushing her to do it.”
“It’s really not like that,” I said, but underneath I kind of felt there was more than an ounce or two of truth in what he said.
“Okay,” he nodded. “Look, I’m happy for you, buddy. It’s not always easy to keep a marriage going strong, even if you seem perfect for each other. Sacrifices have to be made somewhere.”
I returned home after bidding farewell to Charlie, and Courtney was still out with her friends.
As usual, I’d be pleased she was still out—the later she was out, it seemed to me, the higher the chance that she might misbehave while she was out. So I cheerfully fixed a late-night snack, watched a little late-night TV, and then wandered through to the bedroom to settle down for the night.
In the bedroom, there were dresses and various articles of underwear strewn all over the bed, from when she must have come home after work to get changed for her night out. From the looks of things, she’d been going for tight dresses that didn’t cover much. The underwear she’d been considering was all fairly skimpy, lacy stuff.
And then as I shifted the dresses back into the wardrobe, and her underwear back into her underwear drawer in order to free up some space on the bed so I could actually get some sleep, underneath there was something that really took my breath away.
A big box of Trojan condoms.
Wow. Now, I know she could have stashed this box on our bed where I’d be bound to discover them when I came home and wanted to go to sleep. But somehow it didn’t seem like something she’d think to do in order to make me jealous.
“Seriously... condoms are like the least sexy things in the world...” I could imagine her saying.
My heart was thumping hard as I picked up the box. Trojan Bareskin. “Get Closer”. “Our thinnest condoms ever”. Yet as I saw that the box was open, and that three of them were missing, I was hard as granite, adrenaline racing around my body like fire in a paper factory.
Were we really at the stage where Courtney would go out taking condoms with her? Jesus. Perhaps we were.
Oh, maybe it was just another part of the game. But this wasn’t kissing a waiter. This was potentially going out with a view to ending up fucking a stranger. It terrified me, even if it was darkly arousing. Would it be cheating if something happened? I guess technically I wouldn’t know about it until after it happened. I’d dropped hints that I’d be able to cope with her cheating, though. If she was genuinely tempted, she’d have reason to go for it.
Out of His League: A Hotwife Novel Page 9