Déjà Vu

by Ben Boswell

  "Hey dude, any idea where Jodi is?"

  "No, man, she's not in your room?"

  There was something about the way he said it that convinced me he knew the answer to that question already.

  "What's going on?" I insisted. "Is she alright?"

  "I... I really don't know what you mean," he stammered curiously.

  A panic hit me. "Jeez, Al, you didn't? I mean, you and Jodi?"

  He looked at me uncomprehendingly. Then he gasped, "What? No, God no. Me? Why would I do something like that?"

  For some reason, I suddenly realized what had happened. "She's with another guy, isn't she?"

  He blanched. "Look man, I don't know anything. This is between you and her, okay?"

  I called around, and everyone denied knowing anything. There was nothing to do but wait. I had an afternoon class, and I sat through that mutely, and then stumbled home in a daze.

  She returned early that evening. We locked ourselves in our bedroom, and it all came out. She'd met a guy out on Friday, and had been with him since. She was bawling. I ended up comforting her.

  "It was just a stupid thing. Meaningless. But I was afraid to come home today. I knew you'd know."

  "Jesus, Jodi, how could you?"

  "I don't know. It just happened."

  "So, what now? Are you still seeing him?"

  "No. God no. It was just impulsive, stupid. It'll never happen again."

  I took her back. She was my first real girlfriend. We were living together. I didn't know quite what else to do. But I remained suspicious.

  One morning shortly after, she got up before me. I was still in bed, half dozing, watching her get ready. I heard her using her body trimmer in the bathroom. Then a long, long shower. I watched as she put on a sexy thong and then her favorite jeans, the ones that looked painted on and best flattered her already lovely ass. A satin, push-up bra and a clingy t-shirt completed the look. She slipped on a pair of open-toed, platform sandals, her toenails and fingernails matched, freshly painted. It was weird. There was nothing outrageous about any of it. She was a sexy girl, and put-together. She often dressed more or less like this. And yet, I couldn't shake the sense that something was up.

  She came over, gave me a quick kiss, and departed for the day. I leapt out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and sneakers and followed.

  She had a literature class. I skulked around outside the arts building. After, she met up with a couple of girlfriends and had lunch at the campus center. I was about ready to give up my surveillance, thinking I was just imagining things when she checked her watch and suddenly, hurriedly disposed of her tray and said goodbye to her friends. She walked briskly down State Avenue away from our apartment.

  She was heading up fraternity row. She walked past Sigma Tau Chi. Past Alpha Upsilon. Then she turned up the walkway to Delta Tau Delta, and somehow I knew.

  I let her enter and waited a minute before following her inside. There were a couple of guys inside, but they didn't stop me. I'd been to enough DTD parties that I knew my way around. I didn't even need to listen for Jodi. I just went right to his room. The door was shut. I cracked it open, just a sliver, just enough to look inside.

  They were too busy to notice me, locked as they were in a passionate embrace. He kissed her wetly, lips smacking, one hand under her t-shirt mauling her breasts roughly, the other jammed down the front of her jeans. She was moaning, squirming.

  Suddenly he spun her around and shoved her face first against the bedroom wall. She placed her palms on the wall, her ass jutting out toward him. Chad wrenched her jeans down to mid-thigh, just enough to expose her butt. He dropped his own pants. He was already rock hard. He slid her thong out of the way, and buried his thick cock inside her to the hilt.

  She cried out in passion, her body shuddering as he hammered her brutally. Her moans competed with the sounds of their bodies slapping together. He grabbed a thick handful of her hair and pressed her face into the wall. It was impersonal, almost violent. The visual image was virtually indistinguishable from rape. But she loved it, undeniably loved it, her sounds a mix of sultry moans and throaty gasps.

  He pulled out suddenly. She whined in frustration. He spun her around and forced her to her knees, shoving his prick into her mouth. He wrapped her hair around his fist, yanking it tightly, and then he face fucked her mercilessly. She was gagging, crying. I thought maybe he'd gone too far. I almost burst in when I saw him shudder as he filled her throat with his seed.

  He released her hair and she slumped forward against his thighs, gasping for breath. And then, unprompted, she took him back in her mouth, sucking him clean, tonguing his balls, obviously trying to restore his erection so he could continue abusing her sexually.

  I cleared my throat and walked into the room.

  "That was impressive," I began coldly. I looked at Jodi. "Is that how you like it, you slut? You like being used like a cheap whore?"

  Chad stepped between us. "Don't," he said kindly.

  "Fuck you, asshole," I hissed.

  He put his hands up and backed away. "I didn't know… didn't know she was your girlfriend?" he said questioningly.

  "You know each other?" she gasped, horrified.

  I nodded. "Oh God," she wailed. "I'm so sorry."

  I forced a laugh. "Sorry about what? Cheating on me? Lying to me? Or sorry that I found out?"

  "All of them," she muttered miserably. "Please, I can explain."

  "At least pull up your pants. Your cunt is hanging out," I snorted.

  She did and then she rose shakily. "I knew Chad from before Spain. He... I... We used to hook up. And then when I ran into him last week... I dunno... It was just for old times, ya know?"

  "No, I guess, I don't know."

  "Jesus, you're making this hard," she groaned.

  "Really? I'm making this hard?" I laughed.

  "It's just, things are moving so fast. We're living together. Planning on moving out West together. It's almost like we're already married. I guess... I guess I got scared. Look, I know you probably hate me. I hate myself right now. But please, can you give me one more chance?"

  I looked at her and then at Chad. He shrugged enigmatically. I looked back at her.

  "No." I left them together.

  But Jodi and I still lived together. I moved into the office, but she really worked on me. After a while, we started talking again. She told me her feelings, her fears. She talked about her first real boyfriend, in high school. He was an older guy, borderline abusive, and he'd left her with certain predilections. Chad scratched that itch.

  But she wanted me back, and I wanted to be wanted.

  I moved back into the bedroom, and we ended up getting back together. We moved out West together, and lived there for a year. Then the tech bubble crashed. I lost my job and decided to go back to school to be a CPA, but my best option was a co-op program back on the East Coast. Jodi and I decided to take a break, and in the interim I met Jessie. But we’d still had a relationship even after she fucked Chad. And if not for the tech bubble, Jodi and I might still be together, despite him.

  ***

  I hated Chad. Hated how easy he'd always had it with women. I hated the way he was able to take all the women I'd ever cared for -- Janice, Jodi, Jessie -- and turn them into his own personal fuck sluts. I hated how much of my sexual experience I owed to him. He'd gifted me my first hummer, and without him that weekend with Stacy would never have happened. Even now, he was playing that role, turning my wife into the kind of woman who would swallow my cum and take it up the ass.

  But by the same token, how could I blame him? He had some sort of weird gift, this ability to instantly connect with women and tap into their deepest sexual desires. He hadn't turned Jessie into anything. He was right. She always had it inside her, an inner slut just waiting for the right man to come along. And at least in a weird way, Chad had some of my interests at heart. He wasn't going to take Jessie from me. And he was probably right. If I tried to stop it now, she'd alw
ays resent me for it.

  None of that made what was coming any easier. I might have just left, and allowed her one more night of freedom. But then again, she had asked me to stay, and if I was honest with myself, I knew the idea of a threesome sort of turned me on. I'd pleasured myself hundreds of times over the years to memories of that weekend with Chad and Stacy. I still did.

  But that, of course, was different. Then I was balancing the guilt at cuckolding a friend with the exquisitely naughty pleasure of illicit sex. Now, it was my wife we were talking about. Seeing Chad stretching her pussy would be painful, even if she was sucking me off at the same time. And yet, I'd already seen him with her and couldn't unsee it anyway.

  Chapter Seven: A Break with the Past

  I was still going through these emotional contortions when Jessie reappeared from upstairs. She'd napped and showered. God, she looked good enough to eat. She was lightly made up, just some lipstick and a little eyeliner, and dressed simply, yet sexily, in a clingy sweater dress that accented all her curves.

  Chad must have heard her as well because he popped open a bottle of champagne and greeted us each with a glass as we went into the kitchen.

  "To old friends and new memories," he toasted.

  Jessie raised her glass, and I awkwardly followed suit. She gave me a surprised glance, but then smiled and leaned over to give me a kiss on the cheek.

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  Our kitchen and family room are separated by a raised counter with a couple of barstools. Chad and I sat down to watch Jessie cook. That's the way we usually entertain guests, but of course, having another couple over for dinner is a far different dynamic from sitting side-by-side with the man your wife is planning to fuck later that same evening.

  But I'll be damned if it wasn't a pleasant night. Jessie was roasting up a leg of lamb, which filled the kitchen with its mouthwatering aroma, and in the meantime periodically serving up an assortment of delicious little appetizers. The champagne gave way to a lovely Sancerre, and Jessie had me open up a Cote du Rhone to breathe for the lamb.

  Chad was his usual charming self, and Jessie was just radiant, basking in his attention and letting her own wit loose in those few moments where Chad's stories turned self-serving or boastful. Even I managed to loosen up enough to participate in the repartee.

  But throughout, I had a lump in the pit of my stomach. As much as I tried to just take the evening moment-by-moment, I couldn't help but think of what was coming.... Of Chad taking my wife right in front of me, making me not just complicit, but actually a participant in my own cuckoldry.

  As we were finishing dinner, I noticed that the conversation began to flag. Jessie was obviously excited, her face flush, eyes shining, breathing heavy. We cleared the table in silence, and then Jessie took us both by the hand, leading us over to the sofa.

  She sat between us, and then leaned over and kissed me passionately, her tongue thrusting into my mouth excitedly. I looked over to see her hand in Chad's lap, stroking his bulge enthusiastically. She broke our embrace and breathed hotly in my ear.

  "Tell me about the time you boys double teamed that girl in college," she asked in a throaty whisper.

  I didn’t know where to begin.

  "Which one of you fucked her first?" she pressed.

  Chad jumped in, "Billy did. He bent her over his desk and took her right there."

  "Ooooh, you naughty boy," she cooed at me before turning toward Chad and kissing him wetly as her hand snaked into my pants.

  "Tell me more," she gasped. "Did the little slut like it?"

  I was still speechless, but now mortified about the possibility that Chad was going to spill the beans about my pathetic performance. But he didn't.

  "Uh huh," he moaned. "She loved it. She kept grinding back, taking him deeper."

  She groaned excitedly. My dick stiffened as she stroked it up and down. I looked over to see she was doing the same thing to Chad with her other hand.

  "Then what happened?"

  Chad replied again, "We dragged her onto the bed. On her hands and knees. Billy was still inside her. She started to blow me."

  "I bet you liked that," my wife sighed.

  "So did she, right Billy?" Chad said, winking at me.

  "Yeah," I managed to croak out.

  Jessie stroked me faster. "Is that right baby? Did her whore pussy get extra wet for you while she sucked on Chad's big cock?"

  I nodded, dry mouthed.

  She continued, "Is that what you boys have planned for me? Are you going to put both these big, hard cocks," she squeezed me firmly as she said it, probably doing the same to Chad, "inside me at the same time?"

  She was squirming on the cushion, breathing hard, her erect nipples visible through her dress. God she was beautiful and sexy right now. I'd have done anything for her.

  "If that's what you want," I groaned.

  She closed her eyes contemplating the offer. She was like that for what seemed an eternity, but was really probably just a few seconds.

  And then, suddenly she leaned over and kissed me. It took me a moment to realize her other hand was on my shoulder meaning she was no longer fondling Chad.

  She turned to him and kindly, but firmly, said, "Chad, I think you should go now."

  He replied in his most seductive tone, "Are you sure baby, we could have a lot of fun."

  I was about to jump in to reinforce Jessie when he caught my eye. He gave me just a quick little headshake. I remained silent. This had to be Jessie's decision.

  "I'm sorry to send you away like this, but I want to spend the evening with my husband."

  She rose and lifted her dress over her head. She was completely naked except for her heels. She turned toward me, "Please call Chad a cab," she said, "I'll be waiting for you upstairs."

  Chad smiled. "Okay, well it was a lovely weekend. It was a pleasure to meet you, Jessie."

  "And I you," she replied before turned and heading up the stairs.

  Chad followed her naked body until she disappeared from view.

  "You're a lucky man, Billy boy." He stood. "Well, I guess I should go."

  I didn't quite understand this turn of events, even if it delighted me.

  “You going back to New York tonight then?”

  “My flight isn’t until tomorrow, but I’m sure I can find a hotel room.”

  "I'll call you a cab."

  "Naw, it's a lovely night, and didn't I see a restaurant just up the main road?"

  I nodded.

  "I'll walk over and have a drink at the bar. I'll call a cab from there. And who knows, maybe I'll get lucky."

  It occurred to me he probably would. I walked him to the door. We shook hands.

  "I'd like to say it was good seeing you Chad, but I'm not sure it was."

  He clapped me on the shoulder. "Take care Billy. Be in touch."

  And then he was gone.

  That night, Jessie and I made love. It was gentle and tender. I hadn't known what to expect, but somehow this felt just right.

  And then we talked. Really talked for the first time in years. Not about the kids and not about the house and not about our upcoming vacation plans, but about us. What made us happy. Our frustrations.

  We also talked about sex frankly, for the first time ever, without the jokes and ambiguities and deniability of past conversations. We both wanted a little more adventure, passion, raunch even.

  It wasn't like flipping a switch. And some of the stuff we talked about we ultimately decided was better left in the realm of fantasy. But we're a kinkier couple now. Occasional anal, role playing, light bondage. We've gone to strip clubs together, gotten each other lap dances. We schedule more date nights.

  Our sex life is better. Heck, our marriage is better now. I wish I'd had the guts to just talk to Jessie earlier, but I didn't. And she didn't either. It took Chad to shake us up.

  Epilogue: Happy Returns

  I stood over Braden as he worked on his algebra. Middle school alrea
dy. Maggie would be going next year. Amazing how time flies.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket with an incoming text and an attached picture. They’d been coming in all day. Jessie at the Statue of Liberty. Jessie at the Empire State Building.

  --you like?

  I gasped. This one I wouldn’t be sharing with the kids.

  “What’s the matter dad?” Braden asked.

  I turned bright red. “Nothing. Get back to work.”

  He shrugged that parents are weird shrug and continued with his equations.

  I slipped into the bathroom and took another look. God, Jessie looked hot. A selfie taken in front of a mirror that let me see her front and back. She was wearing new lingerie, an outfit I’d never seen. A red lace, peek-a-boo teddy, with strategically placed knotted drawstrings for easy access.

  --That’s quite an outfit.

  --he deserves it, doesn’t he? hero doc, just back from fighting Ebola.

  I chuckled.

  --yeah, I guess he does.

  --oh, and Bill… he mentioned he’s bringing a friend along. Another hero doc. And something about showing me the Eiffel Tower? Think he’s planning to fly me to Paris?

  I shook my head. He was going to get his threesome with my wife after all.

  --have fun.

  --I will.

  I turned off the phone. I had my kids to take care of, and anyway, I knew she’d be back in my bed the following night. We could discuss – and maybe even relive – all of it then.

  About the Author

  I am your typical family man with a wife and kids and an overactive imagination. I am a longtime reader and author of erotic fiction. I write in genres that I find exciting and arousing. Most of my stories are in the naughty wife, wife-watching genre, though occasionally I venture into other subject matter.

  Reader feedback is what keeps me going. Please feel free to contact me at ben.boswell.author@gmail.com or visit my blog at benboswell.blogspot.com. You can follow me on Twitter @BenBoswellAut.