by Sean Geist
I bent down and picked up her panties, blue and white cotton, very practical. I sniffed them, my nose filled with the heady aroma of musk.
“What a bouquet.” I said, again stifling a giggle. “We need to keep you quiet, while I take you. Put these in your mouth.”
Angie's eyes got big at my outrageous demand, and for a moment I thought she would call me out on it, but then she tentatively took her panties and bit down on them.
“Now, turn around and bend over.”
My lovely companion did as I asked, turning her back to me and bending over the desk. She pushed her hands against the cork-board on the wall, her fingers scrunching the vendor invoices and employee schedules tacked up there.
Her ass looked so inviting. I smacked it again, eliciting another cry from Angie, this one muffled by her undies. Her butt check reddened where my palm landed. I smacked the other side so it matched.
I grabbed her hips and pulled her towards me, her hands slipped off the wall and slammed on the desk, papers went flying. While Angie stood there, bent over and vulnerable, I undid my shorts and dropped them around my ankles.
I spread Angie's ass open, just a bit, and stepped into her, rubbing my throbbing cock through her folds, sliding it through her wetness. I could hear her muffled moans.
“You have a wonderful butt, Angie,” I said. I rubbed the lubed up tip of my penis against her tight puckered ass. Her moans became louder and a bit frantic. I was afraid I had gone to far, teasing her. I really wasn't planning on taking her in the ass, so I pulled back.
“Don't worry dear, there'll be no ass-fucking tonight.” I heard a sigh. “Maybe next time,” I added, with an unseen smile.
I quickly pulled out the condom and rolled it on. After using one with Robin and then Kelly, I was getting quite good at putting it on. My latex sheath fully in place, I shuffled forward a bit and thrust my cock into Angie's womb. I held still, enjoying the moment. She felt wonderfully tight, yet warm and inviting. Then, I slowly began pumping my hips back and forth, feeling her vaginal walls rub against my shaft. I felt powerful, in control, like an alpha male taking his woman. I ignored the tiny voice of guilt in the back of my head and continued pounding Angie. I knew she was enjoying herself because she pushed back with each of my thrusts, allowing for full penetration, my balls hitting her thighs.
I soon felt a tingle in the base of my cock, the first sign I was getting close. I took control, pulling and pushing Angie's ass at a frantic pace, feeling my climax grow, and then I felt my scrotum grow taut and I came, filling the rubber. The release was mind-numbing. For a second, I was back on the primal savannah, sewing my seed, before going off to die a cruel and brutish death. This was no petite-mort.
After I was throughly spent I pulled out. Part of me wanted to drop the role-play, but I didn't. I liked being in control, dominate and uncaring. It was so not-me.
I took off the condom and dropped it in the trash can next to the desk. I made sure there was a plastic liner so it wouldn't make too much of a mess.
Angie turned around and looked at me. She was fiercely working her fingers over her clit. She obviously hadn't come yet, and she wasn't waiting for me to give her permission. Any other time I would have stayed to help, probably with my tongue, but I was playing the dick tonight.
“Love to stay and watch you get off,” I said, “but I gotta go.”
I pulled my pants up and turned to leave. I stopped at the door. I walked back over to Angie and watched her continue to masturbate, her moans increasing. Her eyes were closed so I surprised her when I said, “I'll take these,” and pulled her panties out of her mouth and put them in my pocket. I kissed her on the cheek and left the office.
I heard her final climatic scream as I walked down the hall and out the back exit.
On the drive home I felt dirty, like a real creep. I didn't know how some men did it. Thinking of women as just fuck toys, to use as needed and discard.
I love women. I love to pleasure women. But I guess every so often one needs to step out of their comfort zone.
I was going to have to write Angie and very long and very contrite thank you note in the morning.
And maybe send a bunch of flowers.
***
I didn't get back to Angie on Wednesday like I intended. Too many injured pets to deal with along with working on the details of the expansion of our veterinary clinic. Alex, our pharmaceutical rep called for clarification on some drug orders and by the time I was ready to leave, I was too tired to stop by the bar.
I thought I'd be able to stop by on the weekend, but that didn't happen, either. No real excuse for me, I just forgot.
It wasn't until the following Friday that I finally manned up and went to see her. On the way to the Oasis, I stopped at a florist to pick up a bouquet of roses, three pink and three yellow. I wanted her to know I enjoyed the time I was spending with her, but that I didn't really want a serious relationship. I needn't have worried.
“Peter, where you been?” the red-head shouted across the bar the moment I walked in. “Planning another hit and run?”
I didn't say anything. Rita, the waitress was walking behind me and snickered. I guess Angie told her about our encounter.
“Hey, Angie,” I said, ignoring the barb. The bar was pretty busy but I was able to squeeze in to one of the few open seats.
“You been taking notes from Jason?” Angie said, a sarcastic bite to her voice. Jason was her boyfriend; he might have been her ex by now. “You don't stop by, you don't call.”
“Sorry,” I said. I kept the flowers hidden behind my back. “Been busy at work.”
“Water under the bridge, Pete. What'll you have.”
“Sam Adams.”
“What? No Scotch?”
“Feel like something different today.”
Angie leaned across the bar and lowered her voice. My attention was drawn to the tantalizing cleavage spilling out of the black button down shirt she wore. “Like maybe swapping out a blond for this red-head?”
“Never!” I took on a mock air of outrage. I handed the flowers to my friend with benefits. “These are for you.”
“Nice.” Angie tried to play it cool, but I could see a hint of her true feelings. I could tell she was a little surprised and impressed. “Okay, I take that back. Jas would never have bothered with these.” She took the roses and put them in an ice bucket full of water.
She told Kenny, the other bartender, that she was taking a quick break and she came around the bar. She tapped the shoulder of the guy on the stool next to me and said, “be a sweetheart and move down.” He was a slightly portly fellow, a broken halo of brownish-grey hair on his mostly bald head. She threw him the sweetest, yet sexiest smile I'd ever witnessed. The poor guy had no choice, but to move. It was in his DNA. She gave the guy a quick peck on the cheek as way of a thank you. He blushed and went back to drinking.
I was the first to speak. “I really want to apologize for what happened last week. I've been working out some issues and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have.”
“Peter, you've got nothing to be sorry about. I didn't let you do anything I didn't want you to.” She looked at the guy next to her. He didn't seem to be paying us any attention, but she leaned in close to me and lowered her voice anyway. “It wasn't the best sex I've ever had, but it wasn't bad, just different.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“A little. I came didn't I?”
“Yeah, I guess. So we're good?”
Angie shook her head, her rusty locks swished back and forth. “Oh, no, no, Peter. We are not good.”
“Then you are mad?”
“No. Not mad. I just don't think we're even. The flowers are a good start, but they aren't going to paper over what you did. I have plans for you.”
She had a weird grin on her face as she reached over and took a sip of my beer. It was a look that told me she had given plenty of thought to payback, and I was frightened.
“A plan? For me?�
�� I said with a little bit of trepidation.
“Oh, yes, Peter. I got a plan for you.” Angie stood up. “Break time's over. I gotta get back to work.” The gorgeous red-head moved behind me and whispered into my ear. “Do you trust me?”
I got hard thinking of the possibilities.
***
The next morning, Saturday, I called my wife. She answered on the third ring.
“Sedona Spirit Rejuvination Spa and Fitness Center, this is Robin, how can I make your day better.”
I couldn't help but snicker at that mouthful of a greeting.
“Peter, is that you?”
“Yeah. Using the personal phone for business, I see.”
“The office lines are getting installed next month and I'm doing a lot of work off-site. So, yes, I'm using my personal phone for business.”
“You might want to change that name. It's really long and people might hang-up on you before you finish.”
“You're funny. Nope, the name stays. Maybe I'll shorten the pitch.
After the small talk, it was time to get down to why I'd called. “You think any more about what I said?”
“You mean about us?” Robin asked. I knew she was stalling, but I really didn't have the heart to call her out on it with any malice. Hell, I was enjoying my own extra-marital affairs so I really couldn't be too aggressive.
“Yeah, about us. About you and Scott.”
Silence on the line. I could hear her taking long deep breathes. I could almost picture the look on her face, her hazel eyes staring off into the middle distance. Maybe she was reaching for a strand of her hair before realizing she'd had it cut short in Vegas. I gave her a few moments before breaking the silence.
“You still there, Robin?” I said, knowing full well she was.
After a pregnant pause she said, “yeah, I'm thinking.”
“What is there to think about?”
“Peter,” my wife said. The volume of her voice caught me by surprise. “I love you, but you don't seem to believe me.”
“Bull shit. I do believe you, Robin. I also believe you love Scott, and that's the problem.” More silence; I continued. “I'm finding it so hard to share you, share your heart.”
“What about Kelly or that Angie girl?”
“Robin, I don't love them.”
“But you'll fuck them.”
As far as I knew, Robin couldn't have known I'd fucked Angie. But I couldn't really deny it either. “Yes, I fucked them and I enjoyed it.” I couldn't help throwing that barb in. “But I don't love them. I love you.”
“I know. I love you, too.” My wife paused before adding, “I can't turn off my feelings for Scott.” More silence. “I'm not a robot.”
“I need to know where I stand with you,” I said. “I need to know if you still want to be my wife.”
“Goddamit, Peter! Yes. I want to be your wife. What do you want from me.”
She knew damn well what I wanted. She needed to break up with Scott.
“I want you, Robin. All of you. Nothing else, but you.”
“Would you give up your other girlfriends?” If my wife thought she had me over a barrel, she was wrong.
“In a heartbeat,” I said. And I meant it. I enjoyed the sex, but Robin was my priority.
More silence on the line, but this time I heard a little sniffling. I didn't mean to make my wife cry, but it was good to know she cared.
“I know you want an answer from me, Peter. You deserve an answer. I'm just not feeling too well and I can't give you one right now.”
I wasn't satisfied with that, but it was what I expected. Robin never liked to be forced to do anything. She always needed to act on her own volition.
“It's been a week,” I said. I needed to know if my marriage was still intact or if I needed to get a lawyer. I didn't, however, want to put it in those words. “How much more time do you need?”
“Peter.” Robin paused. Was she going to answer me, finally? I hoped so, yet I didn't. I so wanted to hear her say she didn't really love Scott anymore and she was coming back to me. No more boyfriends.
I would have been more than willing, hell, I'd be eager to continue our open relationship – both of us enjoying all the strange we wanted as long as I knew I was the only one she loved. That's what I really wanted – an open marriage. I'll admit, I really liked sex with Kelly, and Angie, she was someone I'd love to explore. Maybe a threesome with the two of them, maybe get Robin involved. The opportunities were endless.
That would be the best of all possible worlds, my utopia. I'd settle for going back to our life pre-Vegas, pre-Scott.
“Peter, I need more time.”
I was frustrated with the answer and I was relieved by it as well. I wanted an answer, but as long as Robin didn't make one, I knew it wasn't Scott. I was Schrödinger's cuckold. I didn't know what to say. I wanted to know her choice but I didn't want that answer to be my rival.
Luckily, I didn't have time to demand an answer. My phone buzzed with another call; it was work related.
“Robin, I need an answer.”
“I don't have one, yet.”
“I've got another call- hold on.” I switched over to the other line. It was Alex Spenser, from Glossman Pharma, our main drug supplier.
“Hey, Peter, you got a minute?”
“Alex. I'm on the other line, let me end that, then I'm free.”
I switched back over to Robin. I had decided to give her two more weeks. I was angry and glad, worried and relieved, in limbo yet weirdly calm. I was a mishmash of emotions.
“I need to take this,” I said to my wife. “Tell you what, I've got a three day weekend coming up at the end of the month. I'll come up to Sedona and we can talk. Either work things out or make plans for our separation.”
“God, Peter. I don't want it to come to that.”
I wanted to scream, but I didn't. “That's up to you, I guess. Gotta go.”
“I love you, Peter.”
“I know,” I said. I wanted to hang up with that, be like Han Solo at the end of Empire Strikes Back. I'm not that cool. “I love you, too, Robin. Bye.”
I ended the call and took a few seconds to collect myself before opening the line to Alex.
“Thanks for holding, what has you calling on the weekend?”
“Just doing some scheduling. I'll make this quick,” my drug rep said. They were good words to hear, I wasn't in the mood for a lengthy conversation right now. “I'm putting together my calendar for September and I want to stop by your clinic.”
“Sounds good. Have you talked to Brian?” Brian Dawson was the owner of the veterinary office I worked at. There were three other doctors that had input on business decisions, including me, but Brian had the final say.
“Not yet,” Alex said. “I wanted to talk to you first, make sure you'd be there. I wouldn't have this contract without you.”
I wanted to brush off Alex so bad, but I couldn't. I owed him so much. He was the one who let me use his room in Vegas. That was how I caught my wife cheating. I might have never known she had fucked Scott if I hadn't been able to hide in Alex's spare room and sneak through the adjoining door.
Then again. If I didn't know, I'd never have asked her to let me watch them have sex and I never would have participated. And Scott might have become a one-off affair, his encounter with my wife in Vegas might have stayed in Vegas.
Lots of if's, I needed to focus on reality.
“Okay, what's your calendar look like?” I asked.
“I got the first week of September and the last. What looks good to you?”
My confrontation with Robin was set for the beginning of the month. I wasn't so sure I'd be up to discussing serious business shit with anyone right after that.
“Let's make it the end of September.”
“Cool. I'll call your office later next week, after I work out the details.”
“Okay. Looking forward to seeing you again, Alex.”
“Same here. Maybe I can bu
y you a drink, after talking shop first of course.”
“Count me in.”
“Sorry for interrupting your weekend.”
“No problem. Not much going on anyway.” It was so true, yet still so false.
We said our goodbyes and hung up. I decided it would be a good time to finish the Lee Child novel that had been sitting on my nightstand for the last three weeks. There is nothing like a mindless thriller to help you forget how much your own life sucks.
Chapter 2
Robin
She wakes up. The light from the sun's rays, reflecting off the red rock formations, streams through the window and bathes the bedroom in a bloody glow. Or is it a dream?
Robin rubs her eyes and the light regains its healthy yellow hue. She sits up and immediately regrets it. Her head is spinning. Odd, she doesn't remember drinking too much the night before. She had a couple of glasses of wine with the one skillet meal she made for herself. The idea of food sends her stomach churning.
She hasn't been eating well, living alone, it's not worth the effort it takes to cook a proper meal. Instead, it's lots of pre-packaged and take-out food.
Robin remembers, it's Saturday, Peter is coming today. Her stomach lurches and she races off to dry heave into the toilet. Nothing comes out but a few strings of saliva. Today is not the day to be sick. Her future happiness is hanging on the line and she still hasn't made up her mind how she is going to answer her husband's ultimatum.
She loves him, no doubt, but he's made her so mad, forcing her to chose. She's thinking about telling him to fuck off. She coughs up another mouthful of spit at the thought of living her life without him. Now, there's a few small bits of last night's meal floating in the bowl.
She thinks about calling Scott. He's always good for a jolt of emotional energy. He'll say how much he loves spending time with her, how beautiful she is, and how confident he is in her ability to get the spa up and running. She's starting to feel better thinking about his low, sexy voice coming through her smartphone speaker.
Maybe she'll make a video call and get to see his handsome face, his lovely mess of wavy blond hair, his proudly chiseled nose and his delicious lips. She aches for her lover and his encouraging words. His wit and powerful hands can put any problem to right. She's getting wet remembering what it feels like to let Scott take control of her willing body. She lays back on the cold tile floor and recalls the first time she opened her body to him.