Going Down to Get Up: Things We Do For Lust Bk 2

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Going Down to Get Up: Things We Do For Lust Bk 2 Page 7

by Sean Geist


  Angie started laughing and said, “Jason would never take me to a ballgame, he'd say it was too pedestrian.”

  “I'd like to be able to say I'm sorry to hear that,” I said, “but I'm not. I'm just glad you enjoyed it.”

  “So, how about you? Did you enjoy my company over your wife's.”

  Another tricky question. I liked Angie, I loved my wife. Angie was here, in front of me and I didn't want to hurt her feelings. But I respected her too much to lie.

  “Angie, I had a wonderful time, and I'd love to do it again...” I didn't want to say 'but.'

  “But?” Angie graciously said it for me.

  “No buts,” I said. “I had a great time with you and I would have had a great time with my wife. I'm just lucky that way.”

  Angie looked at me, her expression blank.

  “I'm not going to compare the women in my life to each other. I would hate for Robin to compare me to Scott.”

  “I guess I can see that,” Angie said.

  “I'm just going to enjoy their companionship as long as I can.”

  “I still say I had a better time than I would have with Jason.”

  “He doesn't know what he's missing.”

  Angie reached up to give me a kiss, on the lips. It was a thank-you kiss, a pucker, a quick meeting of flesh, soft and warm, then a moist pop as she disengaged.

  I would make the next move. I held her gaze for an achingly long time and waited. I knew what I wanted, but I waited for the right moment.

  Angie took a breath as if to speak and I made my advance. I took her in my arms and kissed her slightly open mouth with a passion that surprised me. She kissed me back, our lips locked together, our tongues dancing together. Desire for this beautiful, fun woman burned through my body. I wanted to know her, to be with her, to be inside her. My cock was aroused and ready for action, but my tongue would have to suffice.

  We stood on the street, kissing with abandon, not caring about the world around us.

  I was able to make out a few stray comments from passing strangers.

  Some encouraging, “get a room”, “way to go,”.

  Some not so much, “that's embarrassing.”, “I never...”

  I thought I heard another woman ask her husband why he never kissed her that way. I guess she saw my ring and thought Angie and I were married. The husband didn't say anything, he knew the truth.

  After what seemed like a long while, but not really long enough, we ended our kiss.

  “Wow, that was something,” I said.

  “Something wonderful,” Angie replied.

  “I guess this is where we part ways for the day?”

  “I could use a ride home,” Angie said. “I was going to call a friend to pick me up, if things didn't work out so well.”

  “And they worked out?”

  “Uhm, yeah they worked out. You want to take me home?”

  “Angie, I would love to take you home.”

  In the car, we talked about a lot of things, mundane things mostly. She told me she was born in Tucson, but her family moved to Phoenix when she was six. She went to a community college for a few years after high school, but never finished. She liked tending bar - made a decent living at it - and thought, one day, she would open her own place.

  “Angie's Place would be a bar I wouldn't mind hanging out at.”

  “No free drinks though, not even for my boyfriends.”

  “So, I'd be your boyfriend?”

  “You are a boy and a friend.”

  “Kind of literal there.”

  “Yeah, so what,” she said, poking me in the side. “This is my stop.”

  We were sitting outside a small apartment complex on the east side of Phoenix.

  I figured this was the end of the afternoon for me. Angie had to get to work in a couple hours, and I had to - actually I didn't really have anything I had to do.

  “Again, I want to tell you how much I enjoyed our date,” I said.

  “Me, too.” Angie said.

  We looked at each other. The silence hung in the air like fog. It had been so long since I had a first date. I didn't know what to do. I really didn't want to say goodbye, so I did what came naturally and leaned over to give Angie a kiss.

  She didn't lean in to meet me, instead she said, “Would you like to come inside for a bit?”

  “I would love to,” I said.

  I parked the car and followed her to her unit. I was giddy as a school boy and it was all I could do to keep from skipping along like a fool. I want to say I behaved myself, but I would be lying. All the way to her door all I did was stare at her lovely ass.

  Angie lived in a small one-bedroom unit, with a living room and a kitchenette. It was sparsely decorated in a quaint southwestern style. She invited me to sit on the couch. Across the back was a hand woven blanket, with Kokopelli and gecko lizards, she probably bought at a gift shop on one of the nearby Indian reservations. On one wall was an oil painting featuring some Native American pottery and cacti, on the other hung her one indulgence, a rather large flat screen TV.

  While I looked around, my host put on some music. I think it was Katy Perry, which made me feel old.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?” She asked.

  “Just some water.”

  She handed me my drink. I was nervous. My face sweating as much as the icy glass of water in my hand.

  Going to the ballgame was one thing. Hanging out in a woman's apartment was another. I was out of my element, a fish trying to navigate a sandy beach.

  “So, Peter, you got any other plans for the evening? Any other hot dates?” Angie sat down next to me.

  I chuckled a little. “No, probably grab a little dinner and go home and watch T.V.”

  “Remember when I said you weren't boring? I think I might have been wrong.”

  That stung a bit, even though I knew she was joking. In fact, I knew she was right. I was boring.

  “Wow, that hurts,” I said.

  “Okay, you might not be boring, but your plans for tonight sure are.”

  “You have to cut me some slack,” I said. “I just spent the day watching the D-backs with a sexy red-head. That's pretty exciting.”

  “So you think I'm sexy?”

  “Angie, I'd have to be blind not to see how sexy you are. In fact, I'd bet you could even get a blind man to admit you were sexy.”

  “Funny,” she said, “but thanks for the thought.”

  “Not a thought, the truth. Anyway, after such a fun day I need a simple, boring night to recover.”

  “I don't have to be at work for a couple hours. You want to do anything else?”

  At first I didn't know what she might be considering, but it didn't take me too long to figure out she was coming on to me. It felt weird, this attraction.

  Now, don't get me wrong. I love women. I love looking at women. I find all kinds of women sexy – blonds, brunettes, red-heads; buxom, small-breasted, average. I like women with tight, toned bodies or curvy healthy bodies. I get that physical attraction – that animal instinct - it's just that I had never felt myself emotionally attached to any other woman besides my wife.

  I was starting to feel that with Angie. Like I said before, I didn't love her in a romantic sense. I wouldn't leave my wife for her. I just really liked her. Yes, she was pretty, she had large, well-proportioned breasts and an ass that was very nice to look at, but she was also smart, funny, and she loved baseball. If I was a few years younger and single, I'd – yeah right. I'd admire her from afar, watching her date some dude like Jason and wish I were him. My self-esteem sucked.

  Anyway, I understood my attraction to her, what I didn't understand was what she saw in me. Again, my self-esteem was lacking. I'll admit I'm not bad looking, and I do consider myself a nice guy. I eat healthy and occasionally exercise, but I'm no muscle bound Adonis. I guess the best I would admit to was that I was average. I was the kind of guy to get lost easily in a crowd, not the kind who got hot women, like Angie,
excited.

  What I'm trying to say is I felt kinda uncomfortable having this gorgeous creature hitting on me, and I do know that was what she was doing. So I played dumb; not to hard for me.

  “I like playing scrabble.”

  Angie looked at me in silence. I tried to keep a straight face.

  “Are you serious?” she asked.

  “Okay, no, but I have to say, I'm in an awkward situation. I'm not used to getting so much attention from a beautiful woman.”

  “So, you don't think your wife is pretty?”

  “I didn't mean that. She has to pay attention to me, we're married.”

  “No, she doesn't have to. In fact, it seems she's paying attention to someone else.”

  “Hey. Go easy on me, I have a fragile ego.”

  Angie put a hand on my knee and said, “Peter, I'll go as easy or hard on you as you want.” She leaned in, her eye's lidded, her lips starting to pucker. I could have played hard to get, sat there continuing to pretend I wasn't turned on by this woman, but I didn't.

  I set my glass of water down on the end table, and moved closer to Angie, meeting her luscious warm mouth with mine.

  Her lips felt so much different than Robins. So full, and new. Her scent, pleasantly sweet - citrusy with a hint of honey. At first the kiss was tame, just lips touching. We embraced, and soon a passion swept over us. Our tongues began to explore each other's mouths. Again, it was new territory, a new flavor.

  Soon, desire overtook me, and my kiss became more desperate. I began exploring Angie's body with my hands, first running them down her back, caressing her butt, feeling the warm bare skin of her thighs.

  I was lost in the newness of this delectable woman, enjoying the unfamiliar, exotic sensations. I was a man used to hearty Cabernet wines finally tasting Champagne. I don't like to compare women to cars, and I'll deny I ever wrote this, but if Robin, my wife, was a Mercedes Benz then Angie was a Tesla Roadster, and I wanted to ride them both.

  And the red-head was doing her own test-driving. I felt her fingers dig deep into my back. When I started kissing her neck, Angie reached one hand down the front of my shorts and began rubbing my growing erection.

  The feeling was sensational, the taste of her neck, sharp and salty. We briefly broke apart. Angie lifted her arms so I could remove her jersey. While I was throwing that to the floor, she started to unbuckle my belt. I stood up so she could lower my pants. I stepped out of my shorts and unbuttoned my shirt. I was now standing there in my blue and grey boxer shorts and worn hiking boots. Angie was wearing a pink and black bra. A pair of yellow lace panties came into view as she took off her own shorts.

  I think I must have been a better date than she was expecting. I always thought if there was any chance a woman was going to sleep with a guy after a date, they wore matching undies. Maybe I was wrong, but I wasn't questioning my luck.

  Angie pulled me towards her bedroom. I stumbled along, trying to take off my shoes. Her bedroom was a mess, another sign she hadn't planned on bringing me in. There was a pile of black shirts in the corner. On her dresser were scattered various make-up supplies. Her bed wasn't made.

  “Pardon the mess,” Angie said, throwing the bed covers on the floor.

  “Hey, I'm privileged to see your inner sanctum in such a lived-in condition.”

  “Yeah, only Jason gets to see this mess.”

  Angie jumped on the bed and took off her bra. I just stood there, in awe, looking at this amazingly stunning woman. She laid back, her bountiful bare breasts on full display. Again she was so much different than Robin. Where my wife's breasts are small, with tiny nipples, Angie's were full, with large nipples and silver-dollar-sized areola.

  They looked so inviting.

  “May I?” I asked.

  “You're quite the gentleman, asking permission.”

  “Just want to be sure I'm not misreading any signals.”

  “Get in bed, Peter, before I kick you out.”

  I started to crawl into bed.

  “Wait,” she said. “Take off your socks.”

  “Oh, sorry. I guess that is kinda dorky. Remember, I've only had married sex for a long time.”

  “I'll forgive you - this time,” Angie said.

  I took off my socks and continued my quest. I crawled over Angie, sprawled out on the bed, and started kissing her stomach. I worked my way up her torso, giving little kisses as I went. I could feel the fine ginger hairs on her skin rise and smell the fruity aroma of her perfume. I kissed and licked my way around her breasts, curving around in a spiral, making my way to her nipples.

  I took a tiny nip, coaxing a moan from her barely parted lips.

  I was in another world, lost in unfamiliar territory, but loving every second of it. This is what it must have been like for Robin, when she gave herself to Scott. Her laying back and enjoying the sensation of someone other than me paying homage to her body, using a different technique to work toward the same goal of bringing her to orgasm.

  While I continued kissing and caressing Angie's chest, I took my free hand and worked it down the front of her stomach and over her mound. I gently massaged her labia through her lace panties. This elicited more sighs and moans.

  “That feels nice,” Angie said.

  I looked up, our eyes met.

  “I'm glad you like it,” I said.

  “If you're like this all the time, I can't imagine why your wife would ever leave you.”

  “Shhh, now's not the time to talk of wives and boyfriends.”

  I went back to kissing her breasts and then began to move down across her stomach, licking her navel as I passed. I ran my tongue down lower, stopping when I hit lace.

  But the stop was brief. I hooked my fingers under the waistband and removed the undies. I tossed them to the side and looked down at the naked beauty below me. Her red hair, splayed out like a fiery halo, her breasts glistened with sweat and saliva, her legs parted and between her thighs, tucked within a tuft of soft red hair, her pussy.

  She looked so inviting. Her labia, moist and open wide, her clit engorged. The aroma of her arousal filled my nostrils.

  I started by kissing her left ankle and working my way north along her shin and thigh until I reached my destination. I licked around her folds, tasting her tangy essence. Again it was similar, but different than Robin's. Angie was more salty and gave off a headier scent. I was lost in the pleasure of it.

  “Peter, that feels wonderful. Don't stop.”

  I didn't plan on stopping until she asked me to stop.

  I continued focusing my attention to her outer folds, enjoying the scent and taste. I eventually worked my way in until I was literally fucking her with my tongue.

  This elicited more moans and a few unintelligible words.

  I then moved my tongue up and started twirling it around her clit, this brought on a quick, sharp cry of pleasure and she pushed her pussy forward into my face. I started flicking my tongue, faster and faster on her clit, as she matched my motions by humping her hips forcefully against my mouth.

  Together, we were working her to a frenzy. I could tell a large climax was coming and intended to ride it to the end.

  It seemed like forever and my tongue and lips were getting sore, but eventually Angie came with a loud scream as she grabbed my hair with both hands and held my head in place, refusing to let me go until her orgasm receded.

  For my part I just kept licking, and sucking and enjoying the hell out of pleasing this woman.

  “Shit that was good,” Angie said.

  “Can I have my head back?”

  “Oh, sorry.” The beautiful red-head released my hair and let me up for air.

  “I guess I don't have to ask you if you came?” I said, rubbing the side of the head where she almost pulled out a hunk of hair by the roots.

  “Sorry if I was a bit rough,” Angie said. “I haven't come like that in, forever.”

  It felt good to pleasure a woman, a right boost to the ego. We kissed, tongues d
ancing. Angie didn't seem hesitant at all to taste her own juices. In fact she seemed to enjoy them as much as I did.

  “I really want to fuck you right now,” she said.

  “I love to hear a woman say that. Where are your condoms?”

  I looked toward Angie's dresser, expecting her to tell me which drawer they were in. She didn't say anything. I looked back at her. Her mouth hung open, her eyes were wide.

  “You were expecting me to bring the party favors?”

  She nodded.

  “Damn. I'm really not used to using them, and I wasn't planning on getting lucky.”

  “I'm so sorry,” Angie finally said. “Jason usually has the condoms. And...” her voice trailed off.

  So we just lay there. As the immediacy of the moment faded and the blood started to return from my cock to my brain, I started to feel a little guilty.

  Even thought my wife had been sleeping with another man for the last few months, I still wasn't used to indulging myself with other women. It felt kinda wrong, even if it was fair.

  “I don't want to leave you unsatisfied, Peter, even if we can't fuck. I'm more than willing to suck you off.”

  I looked at Angie's luscious, full lips and imagined them wrapped around my dick. I would enjoy it, but it just sounded like a consolation prize.

  “Would you be disappointed if I said no?” I asked.

  “Of course I would,” Angie said. I could tell by looking in her eyes she was lying. It wasn't obvious, but I don't think she really liked giving head. Blow jobs are not to every woman's taste. I couldn't blame them. I wouldn't want to stick a dick in my mouth.

  “I must decline your tempting offer,” I said.

  She didn't fight me on it.

  We got dressed, and exchanged a few more pleasantries. Angie said she wouldn't mind if I stopped in to see her at the bar. I told her I might, but to not get upset if I didn't show up.

  “I had a really great time today.” I said, as I stood outside her door. We had just exchanged another tasty passionate kiss.

  “Probably not as much as I did,” Angie said. I wasn't going to argue with that. “I'm sorry I didn't have a condom.”

  “Not as sorry as I am.”

  We both smiled.

 

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