“You’re right. I’m sorry. I just.”
Jenny sighed. “Spit it out, man. I’m losing my patience.”
“I was wondering if we could get lunch sometime, maybe?”
Jenny’s eyes bulged. She almost laughed into the phone, but could tell the man was already emasculated. She wasn’t heartless, but she was feeling pretty damn close to it. “Are you serious right now?”
“Well, I mean, you never know, right? Maybe we could mend things? I miss seeing you . . .”
“Eliot, you cheated on me. Multiple times. Over an extended period. Why in God’s name would I ever want to get back together with you? I can’t believe this is happening right now. This isn’t real.”
“Goddammit, Jenny, I made a mistake, okay?”
“Yeah, you made a mistake . . . pretty much every night, between the hours of 10 to midnight, all over town, in hotels and restaurants and luxury bathrooms.”
Eliot sighed into the phone and sniffled. “I’m sorry for all of that.”
“It’s too late for apologies, El. We’ve been separated for months now.”
“But I still think about you.”
“That makes one of us.”
There was a pause. Jenny felt a bit bad about her harsh, snapping tongue, but that only lasted for a millisecond.
“Jeez, Jenny, when did you get so venomous?” Eliot asked.
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
“. . . No.”
“Good. Now, what’s the real reason you’re calling, Eliot? It’s late and I’m exhausted.”
“Why are you exhausted? It’s not like you have a busy schedule—”
“This isn’t about me, Eliot, but if you must know, I’ve been looking for a part-time job, to give me something to do all day.”
“Jenny, that’s great!” Eliot said, thinking he’d gotten her back on track.
He couldn’t have been more wrong. She said, “Yeah, and I’m guessing everything’s not going so well in paradise, eh? Or else you wouldn’t have booty called me at midnight on a Thursday.”
“You’re right,” Eliot said miserably. “Things aren’t great. You always did know me best . . .”
Jenny could imagine Eliot’s head hanging low, scrunched over his barstool at some upper-class speakeasy.
After a short pause, Eliot exhaled loudly and said, “Kendra’s been cheating on me.”
“Ha!” Jenny barked, unable to contain herself. She regretted it pretty quickly, but still had a smile on her face.
The vindictive cougar was coming back into play.
“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” Jenny said.
“Of course not. But I deserve it, I know. Go ahead, Jenny, hit me with what you got.”
“Eliot, you had your cake and ate it. Everyone warned you this would happen. Everyone knew you were a fool for cheating on me. You dug your own grave.”
Another long silence followed. Eliot finally said in a low tone, “Are we finished with the clichés?”
“You picked your poison,” Jenny said, making sure to add one more. “And now you have to live with it.”
“Goddammit . . .”
“Besides,” Jenny continued, “I’m not the one you should be calling. Want to know why I’m also exhausted, Eliot?”
He sighed. “Probably not.”
“Because I found myself a new boytoy, who’s big and strong and—”
“I get it, Jen.”
“—and he wears me out every night with his big throbbing dick, El.” A little white lie—not the big dick part, but the “wears me out every night” part, since she didn’t get to see Colton every night.
“Jesus, woman,” Eliot snapped. “This was a fucking mistake.”
“You fucking think? I think you need a butler to talk you out of all your bad ideas, Eliot, before you pull the trigger.”
“Well have fun with your stupid, poor, big-dicked trophy boyfriend, Jenny—”
“Don’t call me again,” Jenny spat, cutting him off. Her voice was raised and she could tell from her reflection in the mirror that the veins in her neck were popping out.
She hung up on Eliot before he could finish his overblown insult. Then she threw the cell phone on the carpet next to the bed. It barrel-rolled into a wall and clacked to a stop.
Angrily, Jenny knotted her hands into fists and beat them into the bed at her sides. She gritted her teeth and kept punching, clenching her eyes shut to try to wash away the red rage that swept through her body.
Eliot sure knew how to push her buttons, sometimes without even trying.
Her ex had made it clear that no matter how hung or beefy Colton was, he would probably never be as successful as that little twerp. Eliot knew how to make money—there was no denying that. He was an excellent investor.
But Colton isn’t stupid, that asshole!
She needed to do something before she screamed out in blind anger and woke up her son down the hall.
So she did what she had originally planned to do.
Lifting her legs in the air, Jenny pulled her lacy panties down her thighs, past her knees, and down to her ankles. She threw the panties aside, next to her phone on the floor, and spread her legs to give herself a perfect shot of her tight pussy.
She reached over to her nightstand and fumbled around until she found Blue and Buzz. She snagged them both out of the table, slammed the drawer shut, and prepared to furiously masturbate.
That was one way to get rid of her building frustration—though she really wished Colton could’ve been there to stuff the real thing inside her greedy little pussy.
Chapter Two
Jennifer Steele had a pretty great imagination, always had, so she didn’t need much to get herself going. She quickly transferred the hopeless anger she felt at talking with her ex-husband into an explosive outlet of relief.
It was quiet and dark all through the house. Ethan was either asleep like a good boy (unlikely), or playing video games quietly in his room.
Jenny knew she couldn’t be as loud as she wanted, but at least she had some peace and quiet to herself.
She first started touching her nether region, sliding her fingers around her pussy lips, feeling the tender folds of flesh as they sunk into her tight, warm vagina.
She watched herself in the mirror as she did this, through her upraised knees that were positioned like goalposts on a football field. And, of course, her little muff was the endzone that everyone wanted to reach.
She grew wetter as she watched herself, until her fingers were sticky with her juices. She leaned her head back on the pillow and stopped watching herself for a moment, instead eyeing the roof and thinking about nothingness.
She took her big blue dildo, Blue—her imagination didn’t go so far as to inventing creative names for her sex toys—and prodded the edge of her pussy. Two fingers stayed inside as she poked around, desperately trying to find the correct girth that reminded her of Colton.
Once her dildo was slimy and drooling juices, she traced the cockhead of the toy in the little hump of flesh between her pussy and asshole. She bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes, imagining Colton’s tongue running along that sweet spot of skin.
She began rimming her asshole with the dildo’s broad tip. She delighted at the puckering feeling of it against her anus, rubbing the sides of her hole and causing it to open up like a flower in bloom. Every time the tip of the toy pressed against her butthole, the nerve endings flashed and caused her whole body to jerk. Her sphincter was like a living, breathing thing, with a mind of its own, and all it could say was, “Fill me!”
She gave in to her lust with mad abandon, squeezing the thick dildo into her asshole and pushing it down. It spread her rectum as it traveled down the length of her ass, going three, four, five inches deep.
Jenny let out a low moan as it touched the nerves deep within her asshole. At the same time, her fingers continued to do their dirty work just a few inches up from where she skewered herself with Blue.<
br />
Her fingerbanging hand was drenched and slippery now. She removed it from her pussy and grabbed her vibrator, Buzz. It came to life, also with a mind of its own, and gently pulsed in her hand.
She touched the little device against her clit and moved it in gentle circles. Her nerves were on fire, jerking her body back and forth on the bed, until she looked like a seizure patient.
She clenched her teeth shut to keep her jaws from chattering against each other. The veins on her body stood on edge, protruding from her arms and neck, pumping blood and good feelings through her body.
She came within 10 minutes of playing with herself, from the anal penetration mixed with the vibrating toy that circled her clit and pussy like a hawk.
As she came, Jenny reached her legs high into the air over her head and pushed them back into her tits until she looked like a roly-poly shivering on the bed. She pulled her legs as far back as they would go, until her calves almost reached around the back of her head.
She had been stretching and getting into yoga again, recently, in an attempt to prepare herself for the vicious, hard fuckings that Colton gave her. She wanted to be limber and flexible again, like she had been in college, when she’d been able to lock her legs around the back of her head and stare at her own pussy as it was demolished by the college boys (and a professor or two).
She couldn’t quite reach where she wanted, but that was okay. She still gave herself a toe-curling orgasm with the toys at her disposal. The shockwave of release gushed through her body, and she let out the loudest moan yet.
She tried to clamp her mouth shut as she let go, but it was nearly impossible. Cumming felt too damn good.
She watched as her bulky thighs wobbled in the air next to her head.
After 30 seconds, the orgasm subsided, but she was still as horny as ever.
Her mind started to run wild, her imagination taking over.
She thought of Colton, of course, and that thick piece of lovemeat hanging between his legs, slapping against his thighs.
She imagined him in his tight football jersey outfit, and the massive outline his cock would make as it protruded out from his crotch, straining against the white fabric of his velvety jersey pants.
She imagined herself in the locker room of Ethan’s high school, where all those fresh, young studs stripped down and showered together.
Perhaps they fucked each other in the showers, their big honking dicks spreading those tight, manly asscheeks apart, causing the hormonal teens to go wild from drilling each other.
Or maybe they just sucked each other off—a bunch of horny young men slamming their cocks down their best friends’ throats, their dangling nutsacks slapping into chins and necks.
Jenny liked to imagine all of the unknown faces as being studly beefcakes—it was easy, since she didn’t know most of the team.
She refused to involve her own young son—18-year-old Ethan, the kicker for the team—in any of her extravagant dreams.
She had unfortunately walked in on him masturbating the week before—after she thought he might have heard her masturbating and wailing like a banshee—and had seen that poor Ethan still had a little weenie. Even though he was no longer a minor, he still sported a minor four-inch pecker that would probably please no woman, unless he gained some experience from some kind-hearted women who would let him shag them.
Jenny knew that her son had a rough life ahead, no matter how successful he became. He always wanted to be one of the “boys,” a strong man, but he didn’t possess the weapons that many of the other boys his age did.
He possessed a dinky tool like Eliot, his father.
Jenny knew the feeling of unsatisfying sex all too well—she’d been married to it for years. She’d had Ethan when she was very young, at just 18 herself, during a one-night stand with Eliot at a frat party.
Then she’d continued banging random guys for the next couple of years, until Eliot pursued her and said he wanted to be part of Ethan’s life.
At the young age of 21, Eliot was already a success. He’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and as his father retired from his hedge fund investing firm, he’d given the reins over to Eliot.
Jenny had thought “Why the hell not?” and married the dork, thinking that he could make her happy. And his money did make her happy, for a while, but that could only last for so long.
She’d put up with his small cock for over 10 years!
And she was always faithful.
Jenny felt herself drying up as her mind wandered to her son and ex-husband. She frowned, looked at herself in the mirror, and spread her pussy lips until she was looking deep into the caverns of her pink, tight cunt.
She slid her fingers in, keeping the vibrator seated above her clit, so it gently rumbled her entire shaved pubis and vulva, and quickly brought the juicy energy back.
She forced herself to think about Colton and his stud football players. She liked to imagine them with big cocks and commanding personalities.
The truth was a little more humbling—they were still teenagers themselves, figuring themselves out, probably just laying with women for the first time.
The girls in high school tended to get a grasp of the big picture much quicker than the boys. While the boys were out arguing over what movie to watch, the girls—at least in Jenny’s experience—were talking about dirty things, like which football player they thought had the biggest dick. Maybe the cheerleaders were even scissoring each other in their own locker room . . .
Jenny’s mind became a whirl of indecent, unlikely ideas. The cheerleaders going down on each other—Gabby forcing her junior and sophomore classmates to flip her miniskirt up, turn her around, and stick their faces in between her bubblebutt cheeks. Gabby pushed her ass into the face of a kneeling young woman, until she felt a tongue prodding her asshole and she let out a high-pitched squeal.
Meanwhile, in the locker room next door, Colton pushed one of his wide receivers against the wall in the shower, pulled the mystery boy’s waist into his hips, and thrust his huge cock into the screaming boy’s asshole.
Jenny felt another orgasm coming on as her mindless thoughts were filled with gay and lesbian action.
Then the mystery people were uncovered in her little daydream. The cheerleader pulled her head out of Gabby’s ass, gasping for breath and wretching, and it was Jenny herself, who had been forced to eat the younger cheerleader’s anus. Gabby laughed maniacally as she sat on Jenny’s face and forced the older woman to rim her some more.
At the same time, the “camera angle” in her mind changed in the men’s showers. Colton was laughing as he thrust his hips into the poor boy in front of him. When the camera shifted, the crying, joyous face was that of Ethan.
He was crying for mommy, yelling about how good it felt to have his tight asshole ripped open by his best friend’s giant cock.
Ethan was one of the boys, finally. He was the boys’ fuckdoll, but at least he was a team player.
Jenny’s eyes shot open at the unnerving idea of her young son getting railed by her young lover.
“T-The fuck?!” she said aloud, and just then her dildo touched a particularly juicy spot in her anus and caused her entire body to shudder.
She let out another moan—apparently, thinking barbaric thoughts of herself and her son had made her hornier than she even thought possible.
She squeezed her eyes shut as her muscles clenched all over.
When she released, she felt a trickle of piss dripping down her leg, but the orgasm overpowered all, and before long it was all she could feel.
Her eyeballs rolled around in her closed eyes.
“E-Ethan, I’m sorryyy,” she muttered in a harsh whisper, while her body was still afire from the epic climax of her naughty, taboo dream.
She kept the dildo lodged in her ass while she came. Her body trembled, sputtered, and then fell still on the bed.
She stretched her legs out in front of her and peeked between her mountainous tit
s at the mirror. At some point during her masturbation session, she had unbuttoned her shirt and revealed her hefty boobs, so she could watch them bounce and jumble as she came.
In the mirror, she could see the gentle rising of her underboobs from the angle she lay in.
She closed her eyes and didn’t bother getting dressed before she dozed off into a fitful sleep.
While she slept, Colton plagued her dreams once more.
This time, she was in the La Jolla Museum of Contemporary Art. It was her first day on the job, and Colton was there to make sure it was a good one.
When she awoke hours later, she was covered in sweat and condensation and a puddle of pee and juices darkened the soggy bedsheets around her legs.
Apparently, Colton succeeded in making sure she had a great first day on the job, she thought.
At least as far as her fantastical dreams were concerned.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, on Friday, Jenny received two phone calls before starting her day. One of them was pleasant, the other, not so much.
The first person to call her came at around 8:45 in the morning, an hour after she dropped Ethan off at school. It was Quentin Marchard, the handsome French director of the La Jolla Museum of Contemporary Art.
“Mademoiselle Steele, yes?” the man said in his heavy French accent.
Listening to the man speak was a turn on, Jenny had to admit. He was very knowledgeable about all of the pieces at the museum, he had an enthusiasm about him that was contagious, and his arm gestures added to his excitement. Plus, he had a head of thick black hair, a nicely groomed beard, and just seemed . . . esteemed and established.
Jenny knew she would have big shoes to fill if she were to take over his tour guide position.
“Yes, speaking,” Jenny said, though she already knew who was calling. It wasn’t every day that a handsome middle-aged Frenchman called, beginning the conversation with “Mademoiselle.”
“This is Quentin Marchand from the La Jolla Museum—”
“Ah, yes! Quentin, how are you, sir?”
The man gave out a slightly snooty chuckle. “Please, madam, call me Quentin.”
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