"Not so bad," she smiled.
"You're still enjoying playing with the Philharmonic, then?" I was silently impressed with my multi-tasking, holding a conversation with her while I watched her hands sweep all over her curves, soaping her arms, her breasts, her stomach, her behind, her thighs, between her legs.
"Uh-huh. And I've started giving lessons to a few kids in Holland Park."
"Holland Park? Nice." She laughed, "There's a rumor going around the orchestra that I had a boob job."
That made me laugh, too. "Seriously?"
"I know, right?" she arched her back and pushed out her breasts as much as she could. They were perfect for her, and with her new confidence, sexy as hell. But not really the kind of breasts someone would get cosmetic surgery to own.
"You okay about it?" I asked her. "I mean, you know who's been saying it, you could probably lodge a complaint, right? Sexual harassment, wouldn't you say?"
She shrugged. "I don't really mind it. I think it's because... I don't know... I've been feeling better about myself recently."
"Well, that's good."
She grinned, "I think I kind of like the guys... you know... checking me out to see if I have had a boob job."
"Even the guys in the orchestra?" I laughed.
"Some of them are okay. And I don't need to feel like I can sleep with them to enjoy it when they notice me."
I felt a nice, warm sensation in my chest — I was improving Heidi's life, all this was having an effect beyond the nights out and all the making out with strangers on the dance floor.
"Well, that's great," I said, watching her washing her hair, enjoying the free rein my eyes had all over her bare body.
"I went shopping for a few clothes on Thursday night," she said, working the conditioner into her hair. "Well, more than a few clothes."
"Thursday? After we had drinks?"
"The Westfield's open until ten." She began rinsing — her hair, her body. "I suppose... after my appointment... and a glass of wine... I was feeling good about myself."
"So you should," I said.
Heidi lifted one foot, her toes holding it still on a crack between tiles on the wall, and for a moment gave me a stunning view of her freshly-waxed pussy. I was strongly tempted just to kneel down before her and worship it, and to hell with my clothes getting wet in the shower. Then she was stroking it under the pretense of rinsing it in the shower, feeling once again just how different it was to the Old Heidi.
"On Friday I wore this tight top to orchestra... and a skirt that only came down above my knees," she laughed. "Even the conductor was checking me out."
She shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, and I handed her the towel. I liked this new Heidi. And I liked to think that she wanted me to possess her, even while showing herself off to guys in the orchestra — and dressing up to meet strangers in nightclubs.
"Are you going to pick out something for me to wear?" she asked, making me envious of that towel for a moment or two.
"Sure," I said, realizing that my lack of expertise in being a dominant male was probably showing. I stepped out of the bathroom and headed back to her room, hearing her start up a hairdryer now that I was gone.
In her bedroom, I opened a few drawers and her wardrobe to get the lay of the land, and found a whole host of tops, dresses, shoes and underwear I didn't recognize. Hot stuff, too. Heidi had gone out to get herself a whole new look.
There were two magazines on her bedside table, Cosmopolitan and Glamour. I picked one up and was flicking through it, and it struck me how unlike the Heidi I'd dated this kind of thing was. "16 Genius NASCAR Tips From Michelle Keegan". "The 5 Best Matte Foundations". "Kylie Jenner Has A New Hairstyle". "Places You Never Thought of Wearing Your Perfume". "11 Things Every Eyebrow Obsessive Knows To Be True". Numbers were a big thing for magazine headlines.
"I told you I was doing research, didn't I?" Heidi said as she came back from the bathroom wearing her towel, her hair now dry and brushed.
"You mentioned something."
"Found something for me to wear?" she closed the bedroom door and hung the towel up on the hook behind it, leaving herself completely bare again.
"Uh... not yet."
Tearing my eyes away from those stiff little nipples of hers, I opened her underwear drawer and sifted through some of the contents. Did she have any of her old-style underwear still? All her panties appeared to be thongs or g-strings.
I handed her something small, black and white, which had a lot of loose black strings it seemed to me. Heidi took it, stepped into it and pulled it up her legs, and into position. A g-string in black satin and white lace. She had to tie black strings together over her hips, which I was guessing made it easy to remove. There was only a tiny triangle of material covering her pussy, and almost nothing in back.
I found her a matching bra easily enough, and some high-heeled black shoes in the bottom of the wardrobe. Finding a suitable dress wasn't quite so easy, since a few I picked out for her made her underwear visible underneath.
At last, we had a viable contender, a black dress with white up the sides, very short on her thighs and offering a nice view of cleavage. After a little consideration, Heidi decided to put on some black nylons, and the whole effect made her look seriously sexy.
"What do you think?" she smiled, giving me a twirl.
"You look stunning," I said, sitting on the edge of the mattress. She looked thrilled at my response. Then I said, "You are getting laid tonight, young lady."
Heidi blushed furiously, but at the same time she was all giddy with excitement. I was throbbing between my thighs just to think of her actually going through with it, actually sleeping with someone.
She gazed at herself in the mirror and did another twirl, lifting the hem of her dress to expose her underwear — for me, it seemed.
"You feel ready?" I asked.
"Uh-huh," she smiled at me via the mirror. "I've been practicing."
That made me feel warm inside. "You got my present, then?"
"Uh-huh. On Tuesday evening," she giggled. "Nearly opened it right in front of my roommates — until I remembered you'd said you'd send something."
I parted my legs as I sat there on the edge of the bed, and said, "Care for one last practice before we head out?"
Heidi turned and stepped my way, then sank to her knees in front of me, her hands moving to the bulge in my pants. I kept my own hands by my side, giving her access, letting her do as she pleased. She pulled open my belt, my fly, freed my hardness, her face brightening to see how aroused I was.
She lifted my stiff shaft with a single finger and began to lick slowly from base to tip.
"I think I'm getting better," she said, stroking the head of my cock with her lower lip, flicking her tongue around it. She moaned quietly, then slipped my tip inside her hot mouth.
I groaned as she sank slowly down on my hard cock, stroking me with her lips, pressing her tongue against my length, sucking on me gently.
"Mind you don't mess up your make-up," I warned her as she traced the tip of my cock over her velvet cheeks.
"I don't care," she smiled, "I can always reapply it."
As she slid my cock inside her mouth, then withdrew to explore it with little licks and kisses, it seemed to me that she was enjoying herself much more than she ever had when her technique was so brutal. This was no longer some desperate attempt to satisfy a guy, it was more like teasing me, reveling in her chance to play with my cock, to hold it, to feel it, to taste it.
And the look in her eye seemed to suggest to me that later tonight this was exactly how she'd be treating some other guy.
Chapter Nine
Johnny's seemed kind of familiar to us now, though it was only our second time there. The crowd seemed slightly easier to deal with, the music somehow wasn't quite as harsh.
Heidi was eager to get going, and I soon found myself alone at the bar, watching her take to the dance floor and the way she looked in that dress had a
ll the single guys in the place gravitating her way. She was soon having a whale of a time, teasing the men around her before finally choosing one to dance with, her confidence blooming, her desirability surging with every smile, every flash of her eyes, every jink of her hips.
I saw her dancing with two guys, and pressing herself up to them as she did so, before she seemed to settle on a third. It struck me how quickly and how completely Heidi had changed, blossoming into a first rate flirt, a knock-out tease.
The man she settled with was tall, dark-haired, a little pale but suitably handsome. He made me realize that the Heidi who had shown up on my doorstep asking for help to move on from our marriage would never have been brave enough to approach someone like this. And now she was pressing herself up to him, holding him, touching him, laughing at the jokes he told to try to impress her — flirting like crazy.
I was hard as a board watching her. Thinking all the time: was this the man to sleep with her? The first man to do so since we'd gotten married. Was I bothered by the thought of losing her to him? I'm not sure. I was more interested in the lust I felt, the thought of Heidi being so wicked, sleeping with a stranger — and how it might be when she came back to me afterward.
"Well, hello again."
I turned on hearing a familiar voice, and there was Bella, the blonde girl who had watched Heidi and I kissing the last time we'd come to Johnny's. I had been teaching Heidi how to kiss, and when Heidi went to the restrooms to get ready to go back out on the dance floor, Bella had slipped a scrap of paper with her name and number on it into my pocket.
"Hello," I said warily.
"You never called me," she said, not seeming particularly angry at me. Mildly surprised, perhaps.
"No, I didn't."
She gave me a curt nod. "So you're here with the brunette again," she said, glancing over at the dance floor. "But she's making out with someone else on the dance floor."
"Uh-huh." I was kind of amused that this blonde was somehow taking an interest, but I wasn't entirely sure about her agenda. Was she out to ridicule me, or merely interested in what was going on between Heidi and me?
Clutching a champagne flute filled with a greenish opalescent cocktail, which looked like a failed chemistry experiment, she appeared to be a few years younger than Heidi and myself. Early twenties, perhaps. And yet the sharp intelligence in her voice, in her dazzling blue eyes, seemed to add a year or two.
"And you like to watch, is that it?"
I gave a nonchalant shrug, wanting a little more time to decipher her angle.
She said, "Let me guess, you're either some kind of gay best friend trying to get her laid, or... you're a kinky guy itching for a threesome."
I laughed at that.
"And the way you were kissing her last time... there's no way you're gay. Bisexual, maybe, a little. But not gay."
"No," I smiled.
"So what is it?"
She put a hand on her hip, which seemed like some kind of semi-unconscious attempt to get me to look at her figure in that dress. She was wearing a white dress with gold trim that clung to her body and drew the eye easily over her slender curves. Daring, sexy, but it made me wonder what Heidi would look like wearing it.
"You're hoping for a threesome with another guy?"
"Nope."
"Don't tell me you're some kind of platonic straight best friend happy to sit back while she flirts with other guys."
I laughed again. I kind of liked driving her crazy. There was something appealing about not giving her what she wanted, teasing her because she was so attractive she was probably used to always getting what she desired.
"I'm not sure I'd say platonic," I said.
"So you are with her?" she asked. "What, you're poly?"
I shrugged.
"But guys in polyamorous relationships don't watch their girlfriends dance with other guys."
"I wouldn't know."
"I've been watching you," she said.
"Training to be a stalker?"
She smiled. "I just want to work you out. You obviously enjoy watching her when she's dancing with other guys."
Another shrug from yours truly. Although, it was more to tease her now, because I could sense a frisson of excitement in her that suggested she was interested in what Heidi and I had going on, and not that she wanted to expose me and humiliate me.
"And would that be a problem, if I like watching?"
There was a flicker of delight in her eyes, that she was working me out.
"When you watch her, how far does she take it?"
"As far as she wants."
"And if it was up to you? Would you let her go home with somebody?"
"Of course."
She seemed to catch her breath at that, though attempting to conceal her reaction from me. "Impressive," she said. "But if she goes home with somebody... you can't watch her any more, can you?"
"No."
"So what's the appeal?"
I turned to signal to the bartender for another drink — or at least, to wait for a bartender to serve me — and was surprised that the guy was suddenly there. I took it as a fringe benefit of talking to a highly attractive blonde.
"What're you drinking?" I asked Bella.
"Death in the Afternoon."
"Charming," I said, then to the bartender, "Two of those, please."
When I turned back to Bella, she said, "Why would a guy just let his girlfriend go home with some other guy?"
I said, "Firstly, she's not really my girlfriend. More like an ex."
"An ex with benefits. But you get off on watching her with other men. And you actively want her to go off and sleep with someone else."
The bartender handed over our drinks, and I handed him my credit card before passing one of the powerful concoctions to Bella. When I took a sip of my own, its strength took me a little by surprise.
"Uh... what's in this?" I wheezed.
Bella smiled. "Absinthe and Champagne. So what's in it for you, if she sleeps with someone else?"
I tried another sip of the cocktail. I'd never been a huge absinthe fan. Come to think of it, I'd never been particularly enamored of Champagne, either, but it gave me a moment or two to think of what to say to her.
I said, "Well okay, Veronica Mars... What's in it for me?... It's seeing her all aflutter because some guy wants to sleep with her."
Bella raised one of her eyebrows. "But you don't figure that seeing her all aflutter because you wanted to sleep with her is enough?"
I chuckled. "You know," I said, feeling a little more chilled out about explaining everything to her now that the absinthe was warming me up inside, "we were married once."
"Seriously?"
"For a few months. It didn't work out. I don't think she gets quite the same flutters from me wanting to sleep with her."
"I don't know, the way she looks at you," Bella said.
I shrugged. "It's not the same look I see when she's flirting with someone else. Wanting someone else."
"Doesn't it hurt a little, too?"
"I don't know. Maybe a little. Only as much as this cocktail hurts. But then you get to experience the sweetness of her having so much fun, of her being so excited."
"And after she's slept with him?"
"I don't know..." I said, not entirely knowing how to describe what I felt. "It only makes me more interested in her."
Bella's eyes flashed. "Wow. I thought guys all wanted women to be virgins, purer than pure."
"I guess not all of us."
The pretty blonde gazed at me for a moment, then nodded. Something distracted her, put her off. She said, "I guess I'll be seeing you round, then. Thanks for the drink."
"Sure, no problem."
She managed to avoid looking as though she was fleeing the scene, as though this was the natural end of our brief conversation. But then Heidi was returning to me from the dance floor, looking a touch flushed with a hint of perspiration on her brow — a good look for her, it seemed to m
e.
"Hey," she said.
"Taking a break?"
"Patrick needs a cigarette."
I nodded at that. "Cigarette, huh?" Not Heidi's usual kind of guy, I thought.
"Who was that you were talking to?" Heidi asked me, but there wasn't really jealousy in her voice, as far as I could tell.
"Bella," I said, not feeling like I had anything really to hide. "I ran into her last time we were here."
"You like her?" Heidi asked, and again, somehow didn't seem put out that I might.
I said, "She's nice enough."
Heidi nodded. It seemed faintly interesting to me that she would assume I might be on the lookout for another woman. But then as far as she was concerned, we weren't really an item, though she was professing to have me control her social life. She was free to see other guys, I guess in her mind I was free to see other women.
"You should ask her out," Heidi smiled. "She's pretty."
I shrugged and handed Heidi a margarita. "Not really my type. So anyway, Patrick."
"Yes, Patrick." She grinned, like a giddy schoolgirl.
"You like him?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"What were you guys getting up to?"
She shrugged nervously. "A little kissing... some touching..."
"You want to take him home?"
"If you want me to," she said, perfectly submissive, though apparently hopeful I might grant her this Patrick.
"But does he... turn you on?"
She looked at me in the eye, then gave a curt nod. Then she glanced this way and that as though checking we weren't being watched, grabbed my hand, and slid it up the inside of her thighs, under her dress. Her panties were soaking. I tucked a finger or two under the satin and lace, feeling out the warm, the softness of her flesh and the slickness of her wetness.
"He touched you here?" I said. The sense of risk at touching her like this, right by the bar — in public even though nobody was looking down so that they might see — only made my hard cock throb all the more, and seemed to quicken her breathing by the by.
"Uh-huh," she said, letting out a small moan as a finger of mine slipped inside her.
"Time in the salon wasn't wasted then?"
Heidi, Corrupted (An Ex-Wife Sharing Romance) Page 11