by Ben Boswell
I remembered the tight, hot, slick wetness of her pussy. The feel of her tits as I mashed them. My girl. My fucking girl, and some other guy was fucking her.
I couldn’t get them out of my mind. My roommate had gone out a while earlier, but he might be back at any moment.
With one eye on the door, I thought of April. Slutty, stupid, fucking April getting rammed by some stupid, smug, preppy bastard. Mauling her tits. Coming all over her ass. I reached into my jeans. Just the touch of my fingertip was enough to set me off. I filled my pants with come, and immediately felt the burning combination of shame and disgust. What the fuck was wrong with me?
But no sooner had I changed than I was thinking of them again. I checked my email obsessively. Nothing. I was angry and yet relieved. I couldn’t get her out of my mind. A few weeks earlier, I was just as happy to be moving on. I’d recently been having second thoughts, but even then, I was thinking of her as a fallback. Maybe at Thanksgiving, if we were back home, and I didn’t have anything, or anyone, better to do…. Now, suddenly, I couldn’t stop thinking of her. She was fucking another guy. Actually, no shit, fucking him. I was disgusted. Dumb slut spreading her legs for some guy she just met. And so, so aroused. The worst, and weirdest part, was that I wasn’t just suddenly appreciating her and lusting after her. What was making me nuts was less the idea of fucking her myself than the fact that she was banging another guy.
***
Every night, in bed, as quietly as possible, just separated from my roommate by a few meters, I played with my cock. It was hard, again, aching and raw from all the attention I’d been paying to it almost nonstop since her revelation. I’d tried to distract myself from it by watching porn and thinking of other girls. But April kept forcing herself into my fantasies. And not just April, but April and Danny.
I imagined him using her in the most abject and degrading ways. Face fucking her and coming down her throat. Fucking her plump titties and coming all over her face. Taking her up the ass and then making her go ass-to-mouth. I imagined him passing her around to his friends, bending her over and letting his buddies pull a train on her. Through it all, I pictured her taking it happily, eagerly, except in those cases where my dark thoughts required her to be whining or crying in pain when he forced her to service the pizza guy or traded her ass for a bag of weed.
At the same time that I was rubbing the skin off my cock, I was also emailing her, often one-handed. Apologies. Jokes. Movie recommendations. Idle gossip. Until finally she let me back into her life.
I’m really sorry I got weird there for a while. Midterms had me stressed.
She was skeptical, but finally relented.
It’s okay. I’m sorry I dropped that on you.
And then I really went to work. I was happy to be friend-zoned. I just wanted someone to talk to.
And hey, there’s this cool band playing up in Springfield that I’m going to see with some friends, so maybe I could just stop by to say hi.
She responded she was pretty busy. I didn’t let her off the hook. I didn’t even acknowledge her attempted blow-off. I powered ahead.
Yeah, yeah, I hear you. But we’ll just grab a quick coffee. Doesn’t make sense not to say hi if I’m in town.
So I drove up. She’d agreed to meet midmorning, at the campus center. She had classes later that day.
“So where are your friends?” she asked.
“Oh, they just wanted to walk around the campus.”
I gave her an awkward hug. Like we were adults or something. I tried to look for evidence in her appearance of her changed status, of the wanton woman I knew now inhabited her body. There was nothing there. Nothing I could see.
After a few minutes of idle chit-chat, she tried to leave. I wouldn’t let her.
“Oh come on, I drove up to see you, and you can’t give me a few minutes?”
She was too nice to call me on my changing story. She sat back down with a sigh.
“So, tell me more about this Danny,” I asked in my best innocent friend tone.
“He... um… he’s a really nice guy….”
Something about how they’d met at some organizational meeting for the campus sustainable agriculture initiative. Other stuff. Blah blah.
I can’t remember any of it because even as she was talking, I was picturing him using all of her wet, dirty holes. When my distraction caused the conversation to flag, she tried again to extricate herself.
Now I tried sad.
“Yeah, I’m having trouble getting used to things, you know.”
She resented the sympathy play, but let it hook her anyway. She consoled me and tried to give me cheery advice.
“You’re a great guy. Just be yourself.”
More bumper stickers and new-age, feel-good bullshit. But even as she was saying all the right things, I was wondering if even now she could taste his come on her lips, feel it dripping from her surely sore and stretched asshole.
She was letting her sentences drift off, inviting me to release her from my company. I bit down harder.
I’d now kept her through lunch.
“So, Billy, this was great. But, like I told you before, I have class this afternoon, and….”
“When?”
She wasn’t quick enough to lie. “Two-thirty...” she saw the opening she’d given me and immediately tried to walk it back. “But, I need to get my books and finish an assignment.”
“Cool,” I replied. “I’ll walk you to your dorm.”
“No, you don’t have to.”
“I want to. Anyway, I want to check out your housing. I’m thinking of transferring here, and….”
I didn’t even finish my transparent line of bullshit. Her shoulders had slumped and I knew she was resigned to putting up with me until her class.
She tried to ditch me at the front door. I told her I needed to use the bathroom. She was on her phone when I got out, but instead of excusing myself as she expected, I remained, awkwardly looking at her until she hung up.
She was exasperated. I pretended not to notice.
“I’ve missed you.”
She sighed. “I have a boyfriend, and –“
“I feel like you owe me.”
“What?”
She seemed genuinely shocked.
“I mean, I was saving myself for you,” I said.
No matter that this line didn’t match up with my previous play for sympathy.
I added accusingly, “And then you went ahead and, like, cheated on me.”
“We’re… we’re not even, like, a couple.”
“I thought we were.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied.
“Look,” I said as I reached out and grabbed her hand. She tried to pull away, but not very hard, and anyway, I wasn’t letting go. “You should at least, you know, make this right.”
“What?” Perplexed now.
“I mean, what’s the big deal. You barely know this guy, and you’re not even a virgin anymore.”
“Billy, what are you saying? You want to...?”
She trailed off, too shocked to even say it. I kissed her. It was awkward. She didn’t kiss back. And didn’t really pull away.
“It’s the least you can do,” I argued. “It’ll be fun. And you invited me back to your room.”
“Billy –“
I cut her off with a kiss. Her shoulders slumped. My dick felt like it was going to burst. I kissed her again and grabbed for her crotch. She pushed my hand away. I let her, but continued to kiss her, pressing my tongue into her mouth. I reached for her zipper again. She tried to push me away, but half-heartedly. I let myself think I’d won her over.
It was mercifully quick. We stripped. I rolled on a condom. She didn’t even look at me, though in the final moment she’s the one who took my prick at slid it into her pussy, though I know it was mostly to get it over with.
As I entered her, I gasped at the sensation. So hot, so tight. I thrust in awkwardly. Whore. I thought of her fucking Danny.
Slut. Another half-thrust, and I was done.
I ground against her for a few more moments, until she pushed me away, forcefully this time.
“Okay, we’re square,” she grumbled.
“What?” I asked innocently. “I thought we were just having a little fun.”
“I have to go to class,” she noted morosely.
This time, I didn’t object. I dressed quickly.
“That was great,” I said in a chipper tone.
“You need to go,” she replied.
I kissed her on the cheek. “You’re the best.”
I left. Drove home. And never spoke to her again.
But I did think of her. All the time for months to come. Never of the sex I’d had with her, but always of her and Danny, and other men, all sorts of men. I couldn’t get enough of that fantasy.
So, I’d told Terri the truth. But was it the whole truth? Of course not.
I sometimes beat myself up over April. I was a shit. No doubt. I was also eighteen. And she never actually said, “no.” That’s a weak technicality. I was a shit. But then again, sad as it is to say, I suspect my story is far from unique.
CHAPTER FOUR
Saturday morning dawned. I woke up and felt Terri beginning to stir beside me. She looked over at me, her hair a tangled mess, and yet still so alluring. We exchanged sheepish smiles.
That was normal. The day after each one of our adventures had been about the same. No real regrets, just a little embarrassment. I was happy to see this was true again this particular morning.
After all, our evening had ended peculiarly. Every other time we’d “played” – a term that still felt odd even to think… had we become swingers? Every other time we’d “experimented,” it had ended in explosive passion. We’d gotten that out of the way in the car, of course, but even still, our later coupling had been, not passionless, but different. Charged, but without Terri driving it along with recounted tales of her sordid acts.
She leaned over and kissed me softly. Her breath was a little sour, a welcome reminder that she was human after all, not a perfect, sexual goddess.
“You still love me?” she asked.
“Of course,” I replied. “Jeez, why?”
“I think of other men. I have sex with other men.”
“Only when I suggest it.”
She laughed. “That makes it sound like you pass me around to your friends.”
I felt myself recoil slightly. She read me perfectly.
She laughed again. “Oh God, Bill, you do have crazy fantasies, don’t you?”
She reached for me and confidently gripped my rapidly growing erection.
“I… I don’t fantasize about that,” I croaked.
“Uh huh.” She stroked me faster. “So how would that work? Would you just tell me where to go? Or have me naked here and invite Herb and Sai to take a turn?”
Herb and Sai? Had she been thinking of them sexually? Or was she just that quick?
The sound of Braden jumping out of bed put an end to our banter.
“To be continued,” Terri chimed. She gave my cock another firm squeeze and then hopped out of bed, calling after our son, “Good morning, Sweetheart.”
It took me a minute before my erection subsided enough to follow.
***
Braden had soccer. “Soccer” I should say. I’m not sure a pack of seven year-olds chasing after a ball counts as soccer normally. Annabelle was sitting in the grass playing with another little girl. It was a sunny spring day.
I tried to enjoy these moments. I knew that in a few years, just watching the kids play would be stressful. Over-involved parents, obsessive coaches, the lunatic competitiveness that we tend to inflict on our kids when they should just be being kids. Even now, there were a couple of dads who couldn’t resist yelling from the sidelines. Get ahead of the ball. Get back into position. Pass it, pass it, pass it!
It annoyed me that I knew I’d be one of those guys soon enough. Even now, it was a struggle to shut up and just let Braden chase after the ball like a mindless puppy. That’s one of the curses of being even a little self-aware, the realization that despite our best intentions, we’re at the mercy of instinct, impulse, conditioning.
I shook my head. Terri… man, did that woman know how to push my buttons. All morning I’d been thinking about her… and Herb… and Sai, which, judging by the way she kept giving me knowing grins was exactly what she wanted. Or fuck, was she smirking at me over last night instead? Or maybe it was just that she kept catching me staring at her ass, something that was impossible to resist, her cheeks looking like perfect, ripe apples in her obscenely tight yoga pants? And it wasn’t just me who had noticed. I kept catching the other dads taking a peek, at least when they weren’t bellowing at the kids to cover your man and get back onside.
Or maybe, she was just grinning.
“Yo, Bud, Braden playing now?”
I startled at Herb’s voice. Now things were getting really awkward.
“Whoa, you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. What… what are you doing here?”
I looked over at Terri, who blushed and giggled with a hand over her mouth.
“Soccer. Trev’s game is next.”
I looked down at his tousle-headed son squirming impatiently beside him. I gave the kid a smile. It seemed to frighten him.
“Oh, cool. We’re almost finished.”
“What’s the score?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Who knows?”
He laughed. “Terri here?”
I nodded in her direction. He gave her a lingering look.
Was he her type? The kind of man she imagined seducing, who by reciprocating her attention would stiffen her nipples and moisten her panties. He was my age, round faced with thinning hair, but tall and broad shouldered. Powerful.
Did my wife fantasize about having sex with him? Had she already done it? He lived in the neighborhood. We had barbecues together. He and Melody sometimes came over for dinner parties. So many opportunities to be alone with Terri. Had the two of them ever disappeared together? I imagined them slipping away, ducking into the seldom-used bathroom in the addition. Terri, bending over, hands on the sink, her lovely cleavage on display. And him behind her, lifting her dress, pulling down her panties until they stretched across her slender thighs. Her eyes closed, licking her lips….
“Daddy, kick the ball with meeee.”
“Sure thing big guy,” he replied. He clapped me on the shoulder before walking off to play with his son. “Tell Terri I said hi.”
Why did that sound like a taunt? Or was it all in my head? Of course it was. Except, it was now harder for me to remain firm on that. After Chucky and Jean-Pierre and now Brian I was a bit at sea.
The final whistle blew. As Braden gathered with his teammates for post-game snacks, Terri came over to me.
“You okay, honey? You’re as pale as a ghost.”
“I was just talking to Herb.”
“I saw.”
“So….”
“So… what?” she asked with a smirk.
“So… you and Herb?”
She just looked at me amused.
“I mean,” I continued, “you mentioned him this morning.”
“I mentioned Sai too.”
“So… is there… something going on?”
She laughed. “No. Silly. They just popped into my head. Probably because we were just talking the other day about Sai going back to India to see family, and because Melody invited us over for brunch tomorrow.”
“So you’re not attracted to them?”
“Should I be?” She batted her eyelashes as me. “Would you like me to seduce your friends?”
“No,” I rumbled. Though… did I? No. No, I didn’t.
“Good,” she replied. “They’re not really my type.”
“And what is your type?”
“You know.”
“Tell me.”
She leaned in close. “As we used to say,
Baddies and Daddies.”
Used to say? And who was we?
But before I could ask for clarification, she had turned and joined the other parents clustered around the soccer players.
CHAPTER FIVE
Since we’d been out the night before, we had dinner with the kids. Terri made Frenched lamb chops and decorated the ends with silly, frilly paper tips.
“Lollipops!” Braden cried out enthusiastically when he saw them.
Seared potatoes and a salad completed the meal. Kids had milk. We had a glass of wine, a rich Cab that seemed almost decadent.
Braden and Annabelle competed for attention, getting louder and louder in the process, talking over each other. I took a deep swig of wine and let Terri arbitrate.
As much as I enjoyed family time, I was looking forward, even more, to adult time after. The encounter with Brian had kicked up all sorts of issues, which were now beginning to stack up. We need to clear the deck.
That said, I was under no illusion that we’d actually do that. I was beginning to see through Terri’s ploys. The thing with Herb and Sai was a tip-off. She liked to deflect my questions with sex talk. I wondered what she was hiding.
After we’d both read to the kids and Terri had given them lights-out, I was waiting for her downstairs with a glass of red wine. I cracked open a second bottle just in case.
“Trying to get me drunk?” She asked. “You don’t need to do that. You know I’m easy.”
Bingo!
“Terri, ever notice how you sometimes use sex to avoid talking about issues?”
She gave me a small pout. “You see right through me. That’s why I love you. Most men would be all too happy to just drag me off to bed and ravage me.”
I shifted uneasily as I felt my cock stiffen. She grinned.
“I’m serious,” I said.
She sat down beside me, curled up gracefully, catlike, a leg folded beneath her. She flicked a loose strand of hair from her face.
“Too serious,” she noted. “This is supposed to be fun.”
“For who?”