I undid the button again.
“And what was Peter doing all this time?”
“He lay down on the bed next to me. Not touching me, just watching. He could see how excited I was getting. He knew.”
“And?”
“I told him he could pick out just one thing for the outfit I’d wear today, and I would match everything to that.”
“What did he pick?”
“Do you want to guess?”
“No. I told you, I don’t think like he does. If I did, you probably wouldn’t be here. With me, anyway.”
Joanne nodded. “You’re right. But I do think this excites you. Hearing about it, about what I did.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” To prove my point I undid her last visible button. A long sliver of olive skin was now visible, broken only by the lace of her bra. Once again she had chosen a low cut plunge bra, perhaps so it wouldn’t be visible when she had three buttons open. I ran my finger from her neck down to her belly, her skin warm, as it always seemed to be.
For me. That’s what I wanted to believe.
I let my hand go to the top of her skirt, and then around back, where I briefly let it rest on the hook, atop the zipper. Then I took my hand away.
Joanne groaned. “You’re going to make me wait some more, aren’t you?”
“It depends on the rest of the story.”
“I was lying there on the bed, and I was so worked up I started to touch myself.”
“Where?”
“I started with my nipples.”
“Like this?” I raked my fingers across her breasts, squeezing her nipples, the fabric of her bra no barrier at all, I felt them stiffen, hard. I kneaded them, squeezing, pulling, until both of them poked through, making a mockery of the bra and its attempt to hold them back.
Joanne leaned into me, her eyelids fluttering, not resisting, even as I milked each nipple, making them grow impossibly large.
“I should make you go back to the office like this,” I said. “See if that draws any attention.”
Her eyes shot open, then came the smile. Another woman would have admonished me, or called me a tease, or worse. But Joanne—she was thinking about it, about what it would be like to go back to the office in such a state of arousal. “If I told you I touched my pussy next, will you touch me there?”
“Only if it’s the truth.”
“It is, I swear it.”
I yanked her skirt up and pushed the heel of my hand against her pussy. “You aren’t wearing underwear.”
The gleam was back in her eye, the one that told me the next words would have more than one meaning. “That was just in case.”
“In case I wanted to fuck you?”
“No. In case you changed your mind. I’d be so worked up by then, I’d have to go to my other lover. He doesn’t like to wait for me to take off underwear.”
I spread my fingers, capturing her clit between them, snapping my fingers back and forth, letting them catch on her clit, little milliseconds of roughness, just shy of pain. Instead of pulling away Joanne leaned into me.
I had no right to be mad, but couldn’t help what I said next. “Bitch. I thought you said I was the only one who fucked you.”
“I said you were the only one who fucked my pussy.”
Now it was me who groaned. Even with her sensitive clit ensnared between my fingers, she could still jerk me around. “You’ll pay for that,” I muttered.
“I hope so.”
My cock was straining against my pants, and I ground into her, using my crotch to mash my hand against her. I tightened three fingers into a spear and thrust into her, forcing it with my hips.
Her folds were no match for my force, but even with her wetness she tensed, clutching at me, her arms grabbing me for support, tottering on her heels.
“What did your husband pick out?” I demanded.
“I made him think about it for a long time. I told him it had to be good, especially since you were going to fuck me.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, weren’t you?” I pulled out my fingers, and just as they cleared her labia I shoved them back in so hard she would have fallen if she wasn’t holding me.
“You wouldn’t be with me if I wasn’t.” Joanne was trying to keep her voice steady, to finish the story. I thought I was winning.
“Did you make yourself come? Did you have an orgasm in front of your husband, thinking about me?”
“Not right away.”
“I thought you were turned on.”
“I was! And so was he. He pulled out his cock and started to touch himself. He was asking me what you were going to do to me, what I thought you would do.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I asked him what he hoped you would do.”
I reached around with my other hand and deftly undid the hasp on her skirt, then unzipped it. I didn’t want to remove my fingers from inside her, so instead of taking it off, I pulled it up, hiking it around her waist, revealing her long legs and firm ass.
“He pointed to a pair of shoes. The shoes I have on. He said he wanted me to wear them. And that he didn’t care exactly how we did it, what position, only that you fucked me, wearing these shoes.”
I drove my fingers into her pussy, and with the other hand grabbed her ass. I lifted her like that, her entire body suspended by my iron grip, my fingers crushed up against her g spot, my palm jammed against her clit.
Joanne moaned, in surprise, in excitement, in pain, I didn’t know.
I carried her like that all the way to the bed. Her whole body was shaking, she was hanging on my neck, only that keeping her from being lifted by just her pussy. Her eyes widened in shock. I think I had surprised her again.
I dropped her shy of the bed, and her arms had to fly out to keep herself from falling. I grabbed her hips and used my knee to push her legs apart. Her skirt was still wrapped around her waist. I let go of her ass and reached around, pulling her waist back toward me so that she was standing spread-eagled over the edge of the bed, supporting herself with her arms, her legs wide, half dressed, her naked ass welcoming.
“Don’t move,” I ordered.
I stepped back to remove my clothes and admire her. Her pussy was so swollen it poked out from beneath her slim thighs. Her ass was simply perfect, tight, but still with a heart shaped fullness.
I grabbed a condom off the dresser. We’d never used them before, but something about knowing she was married made me do it. I’d broken one rule with her, and would do it again. I had to draw the line somewhere.
One thing left to do.
I stepped forward and yanked up her blouse to reveal more skin. A button popped, one I hadn’t gotten to. Joanne hissed. “Shut up,” I said.
That was better.
She stood there, her legs spread, her head down, she couldn’t see me, and yet I knew she was begging me, her pussy was begging me. Her legs were tight and quivering in her tall heels.
Peter was right. These were shoes to be fucked in.
I tore open the condom and started to put it on. Joanne turned her head to see what I was doing.
“We don’t need that,” she said.
“I do.”
“Please,” she said, and now I could hear a pleading in her voice, the first time she had let me see that side of her. Or maybe it was all an act.
I hesitated, the condom in my hand.
“You have other lovers.”
“Don’t disrespect me. I’m very careful. I know you get an executive physical every six months that includes all kinds of testing. I wouldn’t take that chance, even for you. And I don’t with my other lovers.”
“That’s only part of it.”
“Nothing’s changed. I didn’t just get married, I already was. You won’t be doing anything you didn’t do before.”
Damn, she was right. What difference did it make now? I tossed the condom aside.
“Turn around again,” I ordered.
; I positioned my cock against her pussy and pulled her arms off the bed, bending them back toward me while simultaneously driving my cock into her. She was more than ready, taking me all the way, grabbing at my hips. Yet she still gasped. Her lifeline was my cock and my hips, the only thing holding her up.
I let go her arms and she almost fell forward, forced to clutch at me. I grabbed her hair, pulling it free, and buried my fingers in it.
Then I fucked her.
I fucked her for me, for her, and god help me, maybe even for Peter. I fucked her harder than I had ever fucked her before, harder than I had fucked anyone before. If she wanted my come, my virile seed, she was going to get it, but on my terms.
I didn’t give her a chance to take part, to thrust back at me, to be part of the fucking. Today was going to be my day. I knew she enjoyed it, this wasn’t that kind of selfishness, me just getting myself off, using a woman. I knew she wanted this. She had told me, and I believed her.
But I was going to do it my way.
I let go her hair and grabbed her hips to get more leverage. Her hair fell over her face, I couldn’t see any of her, I could have been fucking anyone.
No. Not with that body. Not with the way she aroused me. Only Joanne could do this. Maybe she’d be the only one who could do this, who could arouse me like this, from now on.
Just when I thought I was finally, totally in control, when I was ready to finish on my own terms, she said, “Give it to me.” No, she didn’t say it, she demanded it.
As if I had a choice. As if I ever had a choice.
I tried to hold back, just for a few seconds, just as I had made her wait for this moment. Here, a few seconds would be like the weeks I thought I had made her sweat.
Joanne hadn’t sweated at all, she had always known I’d be back.
She gripped me with her vaginal muscles, and, totally surrendering, I shot my load in her. She grabbed my hands, squeezing, pulling at me, at my hands, at my cock, soaking up my sperm, my legs against hers, feeling the ripples of her orgasm run all the way to her feet.
I spasmed again and again, filling her.
I was drained. I wanted to just fall onto the bed atop her. Instead I pushed my cock in as deep as I could, squeezing out the last of my own fluids into her. “There’s something to bring to your husband,” I growled.
She twisted, freeing herself, but never losing contact. She lay her head against my chest. “It’s too deep,” she whispered.
Joanne’s clothes were a mess, wrinkled, her skirt half around her waist, her makeup smudged. She had the proverbial just fucked look. But no one had ever appeared so beautiful to me. Not even her, not even in her most elegant outfit, her most pulled together demeanor.
Her head was still resting on my chest, but I doubted she was relaxed, because my heart was beating hard, and I was almost out of breath. Still, we were as close as we were in that moment as when we had been fucking.
I saw the two of us in the mirror behind the closet door, caught between primal lust and some kind of love, our bodies a sinuous blend, a special connection.
This would be the time for her to say something enduring, maybe even romantic. Not I love you, Joanne wouldn’t say that to me, I could never hope for that. But something else, maybe: You’ll always be special to me, You’ll always be part of me.
Joanne saw me staring off to the side, and looked over at our reflection. She didn’t disappoint me. “Damn you. You messed up my hair.”
It went on like that for three more months. Me always swearing I’d end it, never able to, every one of my trysts with Joanne the same, yet amazingly different. So wild and free, yet still with the same rules; always during the week, no oral sex. She never stayed over.
I wondered how it would end, would I managed to cut it off before I got sucked in even deeper, or would she tire of me? I had already abandoned any other women, I hadn’t even bothered with a date since I had taken up again with Joanne. Anyone else would have paled in comparison, even with the limits Joanne placed on our sex.
The decision was made for me, in a way I hadn’t expected. One day I was called into the President’s office. Our company was opening a west coast location, and he offered me the opportunity to go head it up. I think I might have been getting a shot as much because I was single than for my skills, but it didn’t matter, it was an offering not to be taken lightly. And I always wanted to run my own part of the company. The powers that be were basically telling me I had been chosen for even bigger things.
I had a lot of friends in the city, but I had friends everywhere, courtesy of travel and business school pals who had dispersed around the country. I’d have to sell my house and apartment, but was told the HR people would help take care of that. I didn’t have anything here that couldn’t be duplicated just about anywhere else.
Except, of course, Joanne.
While still listening to my boss talk about the move, I was considering asking for time to think about it, to go to Joanne, ask her to leave her husband, to come with me. Wondering if that was what I really wanted.
And in a flash of insight, I realized it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t do it. And even trying to get her to, just the asking, would be disrespectful to her. She’d said she loved her husband. If I asked her to go with me, it would be like saying I didn’t trust her judgment.
Did I want a woman who would leave her husband, even for me?
Someone once told me not to try to make a good thing perfect. What Joanne and I had shared was more than a good thing, it was a great thing. Why poison it now?
The move might be a blessing in disguise. Neither one of us would have to broach the subject of our end. Although I’m sure Joanne had a lot of experience with that.
I told my boss I was looking forward to the next stage in my career.
Everything moved fast after that. Within two months both my apartment and house were under contract. I’d been out to the west coast twice, finding a temporary place to stay, negotiating office space.
In between trips I was back in the city. It had been hard to schedule time with Joanne. We’d finally connected, as usual at lunch at my place, our sex fast yet comfortable. After, lying on the bed, Joanne’s head on my chest, tracing circles on me with her elegant fingers, relishing the few minutes before we both had to go back to the office.
“When were you going to tell me?” she asked.
I didn’t bother to deny anything. “I just couldn’t think of the right time or way. You heard, I assume?”
“Everybody has. I was mad at you, thinking you had told everyone but me.”
“It wasn’t like that. They haven’t even announced it yet, and I haven’t talked about it.”
“I know. I found that out.”
I didn’t bother to ask her how. “I guess this solves our problem.”
Joanne looked up at me, her eyes deep pools of mystery, an abyss of promise. “I didn’t know we had a problem.”
“No, I guess we don’t.” I ran my fingers through her hair. “How long would you have let it go on? Us?”
She smiled. “Who said it was up to me? Or just up to me?”
So far, everything had been up to her. Except for ending it, I could have done that. I didn’t answer her.
Joanne propped herself up on her elbow, her face so close. “How about you? How long would you have let it go on?”
Forever. That’s what I wanted to tell her. What most women would have wanted to hear. And maybe I would have meant it. But it would have broken my promise to myself, to respect her decision, to not put her in an awkward position
And for me, I wasn’t sure I wanted an answer to that same question, about how long she would have let it go on.
Joanne waited, maybe even expecting a real answer. One last glimmer of hope, that she was waiting for me to ask her to take her away. Or maybe she was seeing what kind of man I really was, whether I loved more than just her body, just the sex.
“I want something,” I said.
&nb
sp; “We don’t have much time.”
“Not that. Well, always that. But something else. Before I leave, for good, I want to spend one night with you. One entire night. I don’t want to have this rushed feeling, the clock ticking. I want to wake up with you. Just once.” I looked into her eyes, we were so close I couldn’t focus on the rest of her face, even if I could free myself from her gaze.
She waited a long time to reply, so long that I thought I’d ruined everything, with this one little request. Everything would end on a sour note.
She leaned forward and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. “No, that’s not too much to ask. I’d like that.” Her lips travelled to my ear, her voice a whisper of desire. “I’ve never done that. I’ll have to work it out, and I can’t promise. But I think it will be good for us.”
What she really meant was, A good way to end.
It took almost a month to set up. I was back and forth to the west coast, and on the few nights I was back, Joanne begged off. She swore it wasn’t because she wasn’t going to do it, the timing just wasn’t right.
I didn’t know whether she hadn’t told her husband, or was trying to convince him. Or deciding herself.
I let it go, for the most part. I was so tired from the coast to coast travel and redeyes, I wouldn’t have had the energy to do a night with Joanne justice. And mentally, I had started to move on. I wondered if she was already looking for my replacement, her next virile lover.
I gave Joanne my schedule for the upcoming month, telling her beyond that I might not be in town for a long while. Thinking that was it; if she had another lover by then, would she break her rule of sleeping with me as well? I wasn’t going to ask her again. She knew what I wanted.
I had a new apartment on the west coast, and most of my things were moved. My place in the city was sold.
Then came the message. Can you do the 26th?
That wasn’t one of the days I was planning to be on the east coast, but I did have some flexibility in my schedule. I wrote back. I can make it work. I’ll make a reservation.
She responded. Not the hotel. I’ll set that up. My treat, a surprise.
Allure of the Vixen Page 10