Tempting Terri (Terri Trilogy Book 2)

by Ben Boswell

“You’re not having fun with this anymore?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure what this is.”

  “This is the fact that it turns you on to think of me with other men, and that if we want to keep that alive, we periodically need to throw another log on the fire.”

  I hesitated, thinking about her words. It turns you on….

  She continued. “Now, that is metaphorically speaking, of course. By log, I mean dick. And by fire, I mean my pussy. Or did I misread the vibe at the bar the other night?” She paused as if suddenly concerned. “Are you upset about what happened with Brian?”

  But she’d read me right.

  “No.” I replied.

  “Good!” She took a sip of wine and grinned. “So, did I mention that he was so big that I could only get the tip of it in my mouth and barely get my hands around it?”

  I groaned as I pictured it. My lovely, blond wife on her knees, her painted lips stretched around a fat cock, both hands encircling and pumping his thick shaft. I was rock hard now, my prick poking at the fabric of my khakis.

  “Should I demonstrate?” she continued, her voice husky. “Would you like to see how I sucked Brian’s hard cock?”

  She began to lean forward. God, it was so tempting to let her go ahead. I could see it in her smile that she was just starting in on me. She had a whole evening’s worth of details to convey, mixed in with opportunities to sample her physical charms. Why was I overthinking it? Why not let go? Let her pull me into her fantasy world. Enjoy, a night of wild passion with a beautiful, master storyteller. Closer, closer, she approached.

  “Terri, wait….”

  She stopped and looked up at me. She was a little disappointed, perhaps, but I could see she was also amused. I was going to be more of a challenge than usual.

  “Okay, Bill…. What do you want to do?”

  “Talk.”

  She bit back the temptation to call me a wuss, but I could see it in her eyes. Chucky wouldn’t have wanted to talk. Neither would Brian.

  “Okay,” she replied.

  I sighed. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for in a conversation. It just felt as if there were something out there. Just a matter of reaching out and grasping it. But I didn’t know what it was. I wasn’t sure what I wanted out of our game. Just good sex for me? Fun? Maybe, but not quite. It felt as if Terri must surely know it, whatever it was. She was so confident, so possessed of some private knowledge that it almost seemed as if she were deliberately holding out on me.

  She waited patiently as my mind churned.

  The thought finally crystallized. “You keep making this seem as if it is about me,” I said.

  She shrugged. “No. It is definitely about us,” she replied. “Or perhaps what you think of us.”

  “But not about you?”

  “Me?”

  I laughed. “Is there another you here?”

  “I don’t know. It feels like you’re talking in riddles.”

  I sighed again.

  She nodded, getting it. “Bill, this isn’t really about me. You heard something about my past, and… and it got under your skin. I’m not quite sure why, but it did. So, I was a little crazy when I was young. Big deal. But you can’t let go of it because you don’t want to let go of it.”

  “You could?”

  “I did.”

  “Except once you got back with Chucky –“

  “Things got a little crazy,” she admitted. “I’m sorry about that. I did warn you, though. But okay, that’s on me too.”

  “Things got crazy because it filled a hole.”

  She gave me a saucy smirk that ineluctably made me recall the sight of his cock sliding into her eager, wet twat.

  “I don’t mean it like that,” I protested.

  She chuckled. “Okay, so what did you mean?”

  “That you are doing this because you want it too. Not just because of how it affects me.”

  “Do I get a say?” she asked. She waited until I nodded in the affirmative before continuing. “I think you’re engaging in projection… or maybe I mean transference? My Intro to Psych is rusty.”

  I shrugged.

  “What I mean,” she said, “is that you want this to mean more than it does to me because it means more to you than you want to admit.”

  “Or maybe you’re in denial,” I proposed.

  But even as I was saying it, I knew I wasn’t being completely honest. There were still white lies, grey lies between us, and not just about April. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was just me… except, how could that be?

  Terri wanted me to believe that the sex was meaningless. Pleasurable, but meaningless. That she could either take it or leave it. But I didn’t believe that. I may not know a lot about women, but one thing I do know is that for women, sex isn’t just sex. If it hadn’t been more than that, she wouldn’t have allowed things to go beyond just the fantasy, even if that meant that over time the excitement of it faded.

  I was willing to accept that Jean-Pierre and Brian hadn’t meant as much to her as Chucky. In fact, I was sure of it. But that still left a lot of room for meaning.

  “Well, honey, I think we’re going around in circles. Maybe I am in denial,” she admitted. “Arguing against that is sort of like trying to prove a negative.”

  I took her hand. “Just humor me for a minute, will you?”

  She laughed. “I was hoping to do a lot more than that.”

  “Okay, so this is a small ask. I… I want to talk some more about what it’s like for you when you flirt with other men.”

  She grinned. “Should we start at the beginning? Or pick up at the point where my nipples are hard and my pussy wet?”

  My cock twitched. “That works for me.”

  “Well, with Brian, that’s when I started really thinking about it. I mean, it has been almost a year since Jean-Pierre, and I figured –“

  “Let’s come back to Brian, okay?”

  She sighed, exasperated.

  “We’ll come back to that, I promise. I really do want to hear all about it.”

  And I did. That wasn’t a lie. I can’t explain it, but I wanted to hear about every last detail. About how good he felt, and how hard he made her come. What he’d said to her, and said about me. But not yet.

  “Just, think about a different man,” I proposed. “You’ve flirted with a few over the past year, right?”

  “A few,” she replied coquettishly.

  “And at least a few have responded to you.” She nodded. “So, think of one of those.”

  “Okay… done. So, you want me to tell you about him?”

  I hadn’t really been thinking we’d talk about a specific situation. But then again, why not?

  “Um, sure.”

  “Okay. So, his name is Mike Coates. He’s an insurance guy. He came by to talk to us about this hybrid long-term health care insurance that also served as an investment instrument. Think whole life meets long-term care.”

  “Got it. Young guy?”

  “Actually no. Silver fox. Probably mid-50s. Really, really put-together. You know, custom tailored grey suit, soft blue shirt the exact color of his eyes. Shoes gleaming. One of those fancy watches.”

  “Rolex?” I suggested.

  “Maybe? I don’t know. Classier than one of those big gaudy things you see at clubs.” She continued. “Deep, confident voice. Gleam in his eye. Funny. Believe me, I wasn’t the only one with damp panties.”

  “But you’re the one he flirted with.” I’d meant it as a question, but it came out as a statement, and Terri didn’t contradict me.

  “Not openly, no. But yeah, he handed me the first brochure he gave out, and then when he wanted to provide an example, he asked me if I had any clients I thought this might be appropriate for. He lingered on the handshake. He wrote his cell on the back of his card and made sure I knew I could call him anytime if I had any questions. But it was a business meeting and he was looking to move product, so you know, it wasn’t too obvious, I guess.
”

  “Do you still have it?”

  She gave me a puzzled expression.

  “The card,” I clarified.

  She blushed. “Maybe?”

  Which meant definitely. And not only that, she probably knew exactly where it was.

  “So, did you call him? For, you know, clarifications?”

  “No!”

  “What did you do?”

  She shrugged. “Went back to my office. Let my mind wander a bit. Before we moved to glass walls, I might have played with myself a little. But I was a good girl.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “Well, Bill, as a matter of fact, it wasn’t. As I recall, that night I screwed your brains out. You might remember it. I’m pretty sure it was the night I told you about my balcony time with Jean-Pierre.”

  That was an evening I’d never forget. Terri had been on fire. She’d made me come before she even really got into the story, and then made me climax as a second when she did.

  Baise-moi, papa! Fuck me, daddy!

  The memory of the story really got my blood pumping. I shook my head to clear it.

  “Okay…. That was fun,” I admitted.

  “See? That’s all this is about.”

  “Hold on. So, that night it worked out. You got riled up. I was there and available. But what happens when I’m not? Or when I’m in not in the mood?”

  She blushed and hesitated. I knew I’d hit on something. Even with all our craziness, we were still an old married couple. Weeknight sex was pretty rare, and most of her flirting encounters were surely during business hours.

  “Do you really want to know?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay. Come with me.”

  She took my hand and pulled me toward the stairs. I resisted. It felt like I was onto something, and I didn’t want her to get out of an honest discussion by dragging me to bed.

  “Come on, honey. I won’t bite.”

  She gave me the sort of smile that let me know that, actually, she’d be more than happy to bite if she thought it’d get a rise out of me.

  We walked cautiously up the stairs; we were each still holding a glass of wine. She dragged me down the hallway, past the bedrooms where our kids lay sleeping, past all the pictures of us as a family that adorned the walls. Terri and kids hiking in the woods. Terri brushing Annabelle’s long, blond hair. Me lying in the grass with the kids on my back. Terri and I holding hands in front of a perfect sunset on our honeymoon. All so normal. All so far away from Terri fucking a hot bartender in a storeroom. Or Terri naked on a Paris balcony getting hammered from behind.

  In the bedroom, Terri patted the bed to make me sit down. She put down her own wine glass and went to the lingerie drawer of her dresser. I groaned. I wanted to talk, but I knew that the moment she pulled out one of those little wisps of fabric and began spinning a tale, I’d be lost. But instead of a distraction, I got another surprise.

  She turned, and in her hand she held two items. One was a long, thick, dark dildo. The other looked like a small egg. I nodded toward the second.

  “What’s that?”

  She gave it a quick twist, and it emitted a high-pitched buzz.

  “Sex toys?”

  “Can’t get anything past you,” she teased.

  I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was. We’d never incorporated that into our sex lives. I chuckled to myself. She and I had shared a scene where’d she’d sat in my lap, impaled on my cock, while her ex-boyfriend reamed her ass from behind, but I’d never used a vibrator on her.

  “I didn’t know you used those.”

  “Are you scandalized?”

  I laughed. “It sounds like the least scandalous thing you do. I’m just surprised. You’ve never told me about it.”

  “I guess I’ve always been a little protective of my shameful habit,” she joked. “I’ve had friends since I was a teen.”

  I was suddenly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “It’s okay.” She grinned shyly. “So, would you like to watch?”

  I eyed the huge phallus. “Um, sure.”

  She laughed. “You don’t sound so sure.”

  “I’m trying to play it cool.”

  “That would be easier if you weren’t pitching a tent.”

  I looked and sure enough, I was on display. When I looked up, I saw Terri had placed the toys on the bed, and was pulling her sweater over her head. Her full breasts bounced delightfully in her casual, striped bra.

  “That’s not helping,” I noted.

  “How about this, then?” she asked as she deftly slipped off her bra.

  At some level, I’m still a thirteen-year-old boy inside. My eyes went right to her tits, fixated on her dark red nipples, her pale pink areolas, and slight sag of her perfect teardrop boobs. Like a moth to a flame, I moved toward her.

  She draped an arm across her chest and wagged her finger at me. “Nuh, uh, uh, mister. This is about me showing you that I don’t need a man. Now go lock the door.”

  I rose and, half bent-over to contain my erection, went over to the door. She giggled. I locked it and turned to see her flop back onto the bed and yank off her jeans and panties. She scooted back up the bed and with an impressive, casual confidence spread her legs apart, giving me a view of her delectable, shaved pussy. Again, I couldn’t help myself. I just stared at her raised mound, just a hint of glistening pink visible.

  “Uh, what do I do?”

  “Come closer,” she suggested. “And take off your shirt. It’ll make me feel less like I’m working at a peep show.”

  I eased myself onto the end of the bed and stripped off my top as ordered.

  “Have you ever done this before? I mean, for another man?”

  She chuckled.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’re a funny man, Bill. You have a naked woman in front of you with sex toys, and you want to know about other men.”

  I felt my cheeks burn in shame. “It’s just… It’s just….”

  She softened. “It’s just that you’re wired that way. At some point we’re going to need to look under the hood, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied.

  “Not now, though.”

  She raised her hand to her mouth and wet her fingers and then reached down and began rubbing her pussy in slow circles. I was again transfixed. There is something incredibly beautiful about seeing a woman’s long, slender fingers massaging a gorgeous shaved pussy. With every revolution, I could see her lips swelling and parting, a little more pink.

  “No,” she said suddenly.

  “What?” I asked befuddled.

  “No, I’ve never masturbated for another man.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oooh,” she echoed, lengthening the “o” and giving it a whole other meaning.

  It was mesmerizing. Resting her palm on her abdomen, she moved her fingertip over her sex. She alternated between clockwise and counterclockwise motions, between small circles and large. She paused for a second, and I instantly looked up. Our eyes met. She grinned, and I noticed she was holding the egg in her other hand. With a flick of her thumb it buzzed to life.

  She licked her lips and slowly trailed the vibrating egg down her midline, from her throat to the valley between her breasts. Slowly, she circled a nipple with the vibrator. The sensitive red nub trembled and hardened visibly. It was all I could do to prevent myself from lunging at her and sucking it into my mouth. She seemed to notice and when she removed the egg, she circled it with a moistened fingertip, making it glisten and throb. She did the same with the other nipple before resuming the path of the vibrator from her cleavage, down over her belly, and closer, closer to her swollen, juicy snatch.

  The pulsation must have transmitted through her abdomen because once she was within a couple of inches of her clit, her breathing quickened, and her hips began gyrating slowly.

  “You have no idea how nice this feels,” she cooed
, eyes closed now.

  “Tell me.”

  “Hmm, palpable anticipation. Like that feeling you get when you’re being hauled to the top of a roller coaster.”

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked. Then before she could reply. “Who are you thinking about?”

  She hesitated. I could almost read her mind, working through the possible responses. A challenge: It always come back to that, doesn’t it Bill? Or a white lie: Just you and that tent in your pants. Or the truth….

  “Brian,” she sighed. “I’m thinking of how it felt when I was walking with him, away from the bar, knowing I’d be giving myself to him.”

  She reached down with her other hand and ran a painted fingertip along her slit. It cleaved open, pink and very wet. She slowly slid her finger up and down between her puffy labia. She moved the egg closer to her clit and moaned softly.

  “Mmm, that little push he gave me into the storeroom. Hearing the door shut, and the lock click.” She sighed. “Oh God, I’m so close.”

  “Do it,” I groaned.

  “Nah uh, Honey. You’re going to get the whole enchilada.”

  She flicked the vibrator off and reached down for the black dildo. She lifted it to her mouth and licked the tip. It was huge, scary.

  “I bought this one to remind me about Jason’s cock.” She licked around the top of it wetly. “Now I’m going to have to buy a bigger one in white to remind me of Brian’s.”

  “Bigger.” I repeated softly.

  “I told you it was the biggest I ever had. I couldn’t even get it in my mouth.” She tongued the now apparently inadequate, but still immense, phallus. “Do you want to see what my pussy looks like when it is stretched around a really big cock?”

  I nodded dumbly.

  “Good. Because thinking of Brian has me craving that feeling of being completely filled.”

  My mouth was too dry to talk. I was staring at the sex toy, which was now glistening with her spit. She lowered the phallus from her mouth and rubbed the tip against a distended nipple. She moaned softly.

  She looked at me and chuckled softly. “You should see the look on your face.”

  “What look?”

  “Not sure if you’re appalled or in love.”

  I chuckled. “Both?”

  “Hmmm, then I wonder what you’ll think about this….”