This narrative is part of a multi-part story that explores the sexual exploits of a Midwestern couple who wanted a change in locale, but are experiencing much, much more.
Warning: subject matter includes hotwife/cuckold/group sex topics. This story is tagged as such, so if you do not care for these types of tales, move on. You are your only enemy if you continue reading.
Those that do choose to continue, please know reading previous chapters will help you better understand the characters and their journey.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.
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January 5th. Seven Weeks to go.
Had the Detrevrep Consortium been having its windows cleaned that clear Friday afternoon in Hollywood, those gutsy technicians would have wanted to take a break around the eleventh floor. There they would have delighted in seeing a black-haired woman in a brown pants suit on her knees behind a large desk, head bobbing up and down on the cock of the company’s very wealthy owner.
Fortunately for Lauren Miller, there were no spectators as she fellated the pulsating flesh with purpose until she felt it recoil. Steadying herself for the blast to come, her lips formed a seal around the circumcised head and waited. Within seconds, the salty broth erupted, striking the back of her throat, and coating pearly white teeth with its silky texture. The sheer volume forced her to quickly swallow several times to keep the cum from exploding onto her clothing. As any good cocksucker knows, removing semen from a satin blouse is always a bitch.
After the grateful entrepreneur spilled the last drop into his business partner’s mouth, Lauren stood and used her thumb to wipe away any residual evidence. Opening her briefcase, she tossed in the just inked contract between her company, Rekrap Industries, and Detrevrep, the result of going the extra mile at the customer appreciation party a week ago. An hour on her back had earned her firm a twenty-million-dollar payday and her, a substantial bonus.
“Nice doing business with you,” Lauren cracked a smile as she snapped the leather case closed.
Stretch Madison zipped his fly shut with great mirth and reached into a desk drawer, removing an oversized white glass vial full of white powder. “Likewise. Although I believe that little addendum just now was for a little extra perk?”
Nodding with appreciation, Lauren carefully placed the vial into her purse and moved quietly to unlock the door of the opulent office. Upon her arrival, Madison had judiciously locked it to prevent any accidental intrusions.
“Remember,” the Consortium’s COO told her. “There’s always more where that came from. I can always use a good orator.”
The dark-haired executive seductively swabbed her mouth with an index finger and licked it.
“I’m sure there is,” Lauren agreed. “No shortage of renewable energy around here.”
+++++
That new year had begun much differently than last. For decades, Lauren and Corey Miller had wakened in the same bed on countless frosty Iowan mornings. Yet, this January, they found themselves light years apart. And in so many more ways than just miles. Six months ago, they’d been cruising on autopilot, comfortable in their twenty-eight-year marriage and finally learning to enjoy an empty nest. They were even growing content with their diminished sex life. Almost. That all changed when Lauren moved to Florida, a place they hoped to retire to. By Corey’s own hand, he had turned his demure wife into a venereal dynamo, his incessant pestering whittling away at her resistance until she succumbed to his whims. What was left was a voluptuous nymphet that at times exhibited reckless sexual abandon, much different from the longtime PTA and softball coach known by her friends in Iowa.
The second half of the year had seen that previous life slip away and the Millers were certainly testing the old “absence makes the heart grow fonder” adage. Neither had been apart from each other for more than a few days, and the temporary adjustment was difficult. While the couple truly loved each other, they had willingly breathed life into longtime pillow talk, making Corey a legit cuckold and turning Lauren, all alone in a city where flesh is celebrated and sex worshipped, into a hotwife who was struggling just to keep from completely derailing. In his zeal to satisfy his own kink, Corey had unwittingly unleashed the bad girl in his wife, and neither could have foreseen the decadence that exploration would bring to their vanilla midwestern lives.
Throughout the couple’s transformation, the Des Moines project manager, an alpha by nature in most aspects of his life, had discovered immense pleasure in candaulism and the inevitable sharing that such practices bring. As Corey’s fetish developed – endorsed and cultivated by his loving wife – his kink quite unexpectedly deepened to find gratification in the humiliation that can be triggered from such experiences. Of course, Lauren shared in that culpability by actively seeking out avenues to cuck him. In many ways, it was the perfect symbiotic relationship. That’s not to say there hadn’t been bumps along the way, especially as of late, when Lauren gave into her own long repressed urges, selling her body in the sleaziest of ways in a back alley of downtown Miami. Even as unorthodox as their relationship had become, she knew it was wrong to keep such secrets from a life partner. And yet, it was also a thrill to have such affairs, and something, quite frankly, she wasn’t sure Corey was all that opposed to.
Still, the fact that her husband had basically pimped her out — without warning and not without some untoward malice – enraged Lauren, who sent him packing into the night, negating what had been until then a rather joyous, albeit twisted, holiday visit. Despite his repeated attempts to contact her, the headstrong wayward wife had resisted acknowledging him, sticking to her “don’t call me, I’ll call you” mantra. Right or wrong, her attitude had changed towards Corey. She loved him dearly, that much was certain, but just could no longer ignore there were places that other men could scratch that he simply could not. And Lauren found herself craving that scratching as much as her husband needed them to be.
The paradox was absurd, of course. A loving wife that loved to fuck others. And yet, through it all, the two were still together, and were destined to weather a few more long weeks of their self-imposed long-distance relationship.
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As the holidays faded into the rearview mirror, Lauren continued to seek out erotic adventures where opportunities presented themselves. Whether it be a quick fuck with some stranger during a girl’s night out, blowing a random guy at the grocery store who happened to wink at her at just the right time, or an outing with Tony and Tommy, her assignations continued to be audacious and promiscuous. She and coworker Amy even became regulars at Randy Sandy’s, cheering on Autumn Breeze and the other exotic dancers. The club’s tolerance for wanton behavior and relaxed attitudes grew on them, and they began counting the myriad of sex workers there among their friends.
And yet, the now shameless Iowan wife wouldn’t have truly kept her word to ‘cuck him to hell’ if she didn’t at least try and feed her husband’s Frankenstein. She ramped up the torture by sending well-timed photos of her indiscretions, sometimes during the day when Lauren knew Corey would be in meetings with his team, or late at night when he’d be lying awake wondering what she was doing. Of course, he’d text her back, but there would be no response as the cuckoldress continued the radio silence she knew would both frustrate and excite.
Torture. Was it really? Was it such a bad thing to give him something he seemed to live for? To chip him with just enough of a wittol’s favorite drug to keep him going until they could be together again? Perhaps they’d even go back to their vanilla ways.
From Corey’s perspective however, that possibility seemed unlikely, given the photos and videos Corey had been receiving at random times during the day. Some were quick point-of-view clips, obviously recorded at her behest by one of her spur-of-the-moment lovers. Yet others were longer and of better quality, primarily filmed in vivid 4k, no doubt a product of the Christmas gift left behind after being thrown out. Although Lauren had no way of knowing the effects these small snippets had on her husband, Corey did indeed embrace them. Especially those where she and her lover lashed out with verbal abuse. The eroticized stew of jealousy, envy, and emasculation boiled strong as ever, and the yearning to feel them, torrid. Lauren’s silent treatment actually served to enhance the overall cuckolding; his wife wasn’t just sleeping around, she was flaunting it, while at the same time turning him into a sort of mime who could only look on sad faced, any voice he did have blatantly ignored.
Yes, it was a bizarre relationship, and it was barreling down its perverse tracks at full speed.
+++++
January 12th. Six Weeks to go.
“Lauren Regal?”
Lauren’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as she sat in her office at Rekrap headquarters. No one had addressed her by her maiden name in decades.
“Who wants to know?”
The caller identified herself as Betty, a coordinator for an upcoming Iowa State reunion and a member of Lauren’s graduating class. Betty was calling former students who had not yet responded to previous mailings. It was to be held in four short weeks, and time was of the essence. If Lauren acted right then, she’d get a great deal on a hotel package which included tickets to all the activities.
“You say there’s been notices?”
“Oh yes, we started sending them at least six months ago. Maybe yours got lost in the mail.”
A smile crept across Lauren’s face. They hadn’t been lost, they’d been conveniently ignored. And she knew why. After a few moments of mischievous reflection, the preppy caller got the answer she was hoping for.
“Put me down for one of those packages, Betty. Only the name is now Miller. That’s right. M-i-l-l-e-r. Please send me that link so I can sign up. My husband and I would love to attend.”
+++++
Corey sighed and poured himself two fingers of bourbon. The last few weeks had been a roller coaster and he didn’t relish settling in for another night alone. His wife was out there somewhere that evening, a wayward aerial firework that had seemingly careened out of control after being lit by a match he himself had held to the wick. Perhaps he deserved the treatment he was getting. After all, he had underhandedly led her into a potentially volatile situation with those Cubans which was as stupid as it was for her to go into the alley with those guys to begin with. Both situations could have turned out very badly, but oddly enough, they didn’t; the screams of pleasure he had heard coming from behind that door while playing pool had no hint of distress whatsoever.
His mind drifted back to Caroline’s visit. What the hell was she doing, sending those pics of her mother? A little enablement of her own, maybe? Did she know? Did his little girl know? It was a horrible thought, but what other explanation was there? He hadn’t spoken to his daughter since her and her mother went to Jack Carter’s party. Either way, he absolutely dreaded their next conversation.
After taking a hot shower, Corey shrugged on a blue fluffy robe and closed the blinds in the study. Settling in for his nightly masturbation ritual, he fired up the computer and began hunting. First, he’d check to see if there were any new hotwife or cuckold stories posted in the plethora of online forums that catered to that taste. Then he’d check the free porn sites for any new video content. Day to day, finding anything new was hit and miss. Most were familiar clips which had already served their purpose many times. Ultimately though, nothing excited him as much as seeing his own wife in the throes of passion, so he would inevitably turn to the growing cache of mp4s Lauren had been sending. Say what you will, the films were fucking hot. While the couple were in the middle of a row, one thing was certain: these days that woman sure enjoyed getting fucked and was careful to see to it that he was aware of every minute detail. How many men could say that about their wives?
After a quick spin through the regular sites, Corey decided to begin with that video from the pre-New Year’s eve party, the one with Lauren, Jack and that frat boy.
“Better than your ol’ man?” Tony had asked Lauren while banging her good.
“Not even fucking close,” she had whispered back with all seriousness.
Corey felt his six inches begin to poke through the robe.
Jesus, that’s hot!
Fondly remembering the for-sale sign in the front yard, he was relieved that the days of watching this beautiful agony through a tiny screen were almost over.
Corey had just lubed up when the media player froze, replaced by the conference software on his laptop, which had automatically maximized and lit up with an incoming video call. It happened so fast he didn’t even have a chance to put his dick away. His expression went from one of perplexed to elated when he saw Lauren’s beautiful eyes light up the screen. She was sitting on the bed in her apartment, wrapped in a towel, looking freshly bathed.
The forlorn husband blinked his eyes. Oh my God, it’s her.
“Hey,” Lauren whispered, not looking up as she painted her nails.
“Hey,” he croaked nervously. “How have you been? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
The awkwardness was palpable, like neither knew what to say. Finally, Corey cleared his throat.
“So, to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?”
Lauren stopped painting and looked at the camcorder which had been strategically placed at the foot of the bed.
“Know anything about an upcoming Cyclone reunion in Ames?”
Corey faked deep thought. He knew exactly what she was referring to.
“No.” That was a lie.
“Uh huh. Chick said that they’d been sending mailers for months. Seen any?”
“No.” Another lie. The garbage was full of those postcards. He’d gotten at least one a month.
“Well, no worries. I’ll be flying home that weekend and we can drive up together.”
“Uh, sure.”
“Don’t sound so enthused,” Lauren chided him. Standing up, she let the towel drop to the floor. The sight took his breath away. “If you don’t want to take me, maybe Pauly will.”
Corey gulped at the mention of her old college flame.
“It’ll be just like old times, babe. You sitting in your car waiting for me while I finish him off in his fraternity house.”
“I had to wait somewhere! I didn’t know.”
“Sure, you didn’t. You picked me up on weekend mornings around the corner from his house. Did you think I’d just gotten out of church?”
“Lauren, I…”
“Save it, Twisty. We’re going to the reunion. Maybe I’ll take care of some unfinished business.”
He glanced down as his cock poked from the robe and bobbed in the air.
The move did not escape Lauren. “Oh my God! STAND UP!”
Reluctantly, Corey rose until his waist was even with the desk. The oily texture of the lube was clearly visible along his erection.
“Some things never change.”
She grabbed a black mini skirt from the closet and removed the hanger. “How about this one?”
“Are you going out?”
“Just answer the question.”
“It’s very short.”
Lauren smiled and held a shiny silver halter top up to her bare chest. Corey’s eyes bulged and his cock stood at attention. The whole damn thing was backless, showing off her tanned shoulder blades perfectly. Her tits would be free to jiggle nicely beneath.
“And this?” She peered into her tablet at him and saw his rigid dick. “Well, that’s one answer.” Without another word, Lauren slipped on the skirt and pulled the top over her head, adjusting it over her braless boobs. Finally, she put her hands on her hips and posed.
“Like what you see, perv?”
“You’re the sexiest almost-fifty in Miami.”
“Forty-eight, and don’t you forget it.”
Corey began to sit back down when Lauren barked at him. “NO! No way. You don’t get off that easy. Stay standing.”
The sixty-one-year-old stopped and stood straight.
“Take off the robe.”
“This isn’t Florida, babe. It’s twenty-five degrees outside.”
“Take off the fucking robe, Twisty.”
Corey sighed and did what she asked. The automatic thermostat had shut the furnace off for the night and the chill now caressed his naked body.
“Stroke it for me,” Lauren demanded as she crawled back onto the bed on all fours, the tight skirt stretching across her little ass quite nicely. She watched while he began to masturbate, standing as erect as his wracked back would allow, the lube providing a frictionless path. Although he’d been hitting the gym lately, it was going to take a long time to overcome the years of doughnuts and beer that had caused his overflowing belly and sagging pecs. Her thoughts drifted briefly to some of the fit men that she’d been with recently and it was hard to get excited about her husband’s comparably flabby physique.
“Touch your nipples.”
Corey’s free hand went to his chest and began fingering the dark brown nubs, hair and liver spots dotting the aging areolae.
“To answer your question, I am going out tonight.”
“Alone?”
“No. With Chloe.”
“She’s so young, Lauren. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I chose my friends, Corey. Not you, not anyone. You should see all the friends I have now. In fact, me and Amy are regulars at Sandy’s now.”
Corey’s hand tightened around his cock, his breathing labored as he thought of his wife hanging out at the strip club. “All my friends are fucking me,” she’d once told him.
“They even tried to get me on stage.”
Oh God.
“D-d-do you dance?
Lauren cackled. “Nobody wants to see anyone my age like that.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
“Oh really?” Kneeling on the mattress, the petite office manager pulled up the hem of the already short skirt, nearly revealing her bald slit.
“I know you’d like to see those men ogle me.”
Corey remained standing naked behind the desk, robe around his ankles, one hand on his dick, the other playing with his nipples.
“Harder, perv.”
His face grimaced as he stroked faster, the shaft extending just inches over the leather-bound desk pad.
Lauren wiggled her hips a bit and rolled the skirt up to reveal her snatch.
“Take a good look, Twisty. You know those customers would.”
“Jesus.”
She giggled and used both hands to spread the glistening folds. The control she had over him was a special kind of hot.
“They’d push their glasses all the way up the bridge of their debauched noses to get a better view of my pretty pink pussy, don’t ya think?”
Eyes closed, Corey continued to masturbate, imagining a room full of horny men watching his wife strip. At one point the other hand dropped from his pecs so he could double fist, but immediately returned it to his chest upon being scolded.
“NIPPLES!”
The sight of her husband in the nude jacking off over his desk, his face scrunched with ecstasy, began to take its toll. Lauren felt her own body begin to react. Sliding the thin straps of the blouse off her delectable shoulders, the front of the barely-there top slipped down to just above her small breasts.
“They’re all staring at me, babe. What are they thinking?”
Corey could only wheeze as he fucked his hand, mouth open and pulsing like a fish out of water. Pre-cum began to drip from the tip of his glans onto the desk pad.
“No doubt wondering what it would be like to slide their own cocks into my warm, defiled cunt.”
Lauren slithered two fingers into her juicy hole as her husband shuddered.
“Whose pussy is this, perv?”
“M-m-mine.”
“Are you sure? Not what Tony says. Think hard now, cuck.”
She allowed the halter to drop to her belly, revealing her tomato-sized breasts and hard eraser nipples.
The abusive nature of her verbal assault amply fueled Corey’s beautiful angst. Grimacing and grunting, Corey stared at his wife’s mouth-watering tits, their paleness strikingly beautiful against the rest of her tanned body.
“Say it perv!” Lauren demanded. “Tell me what he’d say, goddamnit.”
“N-n-not mine anymore,” Corey spat out, his entire pudgy body jiggling as he furiously slid his dick through stubby fingers. “I’ve thrown it all away.”
“That’s right babe, think of all the guys enjoying my pussy now. You handed me over to them gave without so much as a fight.”
“Lauren, please stop, you know it’s not like that!”
“Isn’t it?. You pray for men to screw me to take me to our bed and spew their spunk into my married cunny.”
Corey’s body began to convulse and spasm. He was on the cusp.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’m not there.”
Lauren grinned. She was pleased he was so easily enabled.
“The only reason you’re sorry is that you can’t see them sink their much bigger cocks into my willing hole!”
Corey began foaming at the corners of his mouth. His hand was going so fast she thought he’d rip his penis clean off.
“Don’t worry, they’re taking good care of me. I rather like being their cum dump.”
Through the laptop’s tinny speakers, she could hear the lube squishing in his bony hand.
“Pinch your nipple, babe. Pinch it hard!”
She could see her husband’s eager fingers pull and tear at his pecs.
“Nnnnnggguhhhhhh!”
“Thank God for menopause or one of those kids might just knock me up! Can you imagine me carrying Tony’s child? Are you ready to be a daddy again?”
“Fuuuuuucccckkkkkkkkkk!” Corey screamed in horrid rapture, appalled but strangely arousing. His wife had suddenly entered a niche area considered extreme even by those in the lifestyle. He put his free hand on the top of the desk to steady his shaking body, which was now quaking over the desk. Lauren watched expressionless as his doughy stomach and pendulous man-boobs vellicated just before he came, sending an appreciable amount of opaque ejaculate across the mousepad and laptop’s keyboard. She smirked and waited patiently until he came down from a rather traumatic climax.
“You’ve been a naughty boy,” Lauren purred, smoothing her skirt and pulling the halter straps back onto her shoulders. There were several stripes of jizz now crisscrossing the desk pad. She had been successful. “You better get that cleaned up.”
Bounding off the bed, her hand reached to turn off the camera.
“Wait, where are you going?” Corey asked breathlessly as he gathered the robe around his spent genitals.
“Out,” his wife shot back mater-of-factly. “It’s my turn, Twisty.”
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Being a Friday evening, the Taffy Snapper was already hopping by the time Lauren walked in the door. Chloe was to meet her there at nine o’clock but was running late. Scanning the bar rail to see if she knew anyone, the office manager was pleased to see Alex Cartwright already on a stool nursing a beer, his ever-present white cowboy hat sitting atop that clean-cut look. Settling onto a stool beside him, she ordered her usual, a Hurricane, and turned to greet him.
“Hello, there, Austin. Looks like my day just got brighter.”
Alex barely raised his head to acknowledge her, his eyes still concealed behind the wide brim. “That so, Ames?” It was clear the bottle he was toying with was not his first.
Lauren thanked the bartender when her drink came and held it high, looking up and down the long brass railing at the other regulars.
“To friends in low places,” she toasted brightly.
Alex perked up amongst the smattering of murmured approvals. “One of the great songs of all time,” he admitted, looking into her eyes. His tone was a lot warmer than their previous meetings, but his body language was that of a tense man. Raised on a large ranch in Texas, he came from genuine cowboy genes, with the slow, steady drawl and even temper one would expect. The last name was very appropriate.
“Looks like our fans have to wait until next year, huh?” Lauren teased him.
“Don’t even get me started.”
After discussing the disappointing football season, the conversation turned to more domestic topics. Both loved the vibrance of a city so alive and happening, although Lauren admitted she’d eventually like a house in the suburbs as a sanctuary from the everyday hustle and bustle. For Alex, although he’d lived under the expansive sky of El Paso for most of his life, the forty-two-foot Regal he called home suited him just fine. Moored at a marina near the Causeway, the slip rental wasn’t cheap, but still less expensive than those fancy downtown high-rise apartments. And for the now successful travel agent, it put him right where his customers lived.
Lauren shared that she loved to walk along the river and watch the boats. She suggested they go sailing some time. Alex began to open his mouth to say that he was, in fact, planning on take a spin around the bay on Sunday, but then thought better of it. He could not deny the attraction to this beautiful woman, but she was already taken by marriage, an institution he was taught to respect. It was the exact reason he’d been keeping his distance since meeting her during that Saturday watch party. With her irresistible allure, Alex simply didn’t trust himself to do the right thing. Resisting her charms was getting increasingly difficult. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her ruby reds and caress the shiny black hair that cascaded over her bare shoulders.
“I’m not sure your husband would appreciate that,” he said warily, giving in to his wholesome side. The booze was clouding his judgement and he had to proceed cautiously. His appearance might have been squeaky clean, his thoughts were anything but.
“Very noble of you, Mr. Cartwright, but be for you judged me, there’s something you should know.”
Alex cocked his head and listened in near disbelief as Lauren told him of her special arrangement with her husband. Now as a travel agent, he was aware certain resorts catered to hedonism and a special type of clientele, especially in the Caribbean where native men hung out in the bars just waiting to for a couple willing to pay to explore their darkest fantasies.
Well, that then explains the bracelet around her ankle.
The pair stared into their drinks, each nervously wondering how the other’s words may have been received. The whiskey was wreaking havoc with Alex’s conservative sensibilities, and he found his downcast eyes flitting from the black leather skirt that created just enough shadow to keep things a mystery, to her narrow waist, and small chest barely hidden beneath the shiny silver halter. He preferred bustier and meatier cowgirls, but this more mature woman was something truly extraordinary.
That woman, on the other hand, was sure she’d probably revealed too much to the good, God-fearing man. Although Lauren would have liked to have seen what he was packing beneath that oversized belt buckle, having a platonic male friend wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it?
“Is that why you invited Vinnie and me back to your place after the game that night?”
Lauren turned to him and smiled coyly, draping a loose strand of hair over her ear. “Maybe.”
“So, your husband allows you to see other men? Romantically, I mean.”
“My husband doesn’t allow me to do anything. We’ve just decided to relax our marriage vows for a time.”
They both took another long drink, eyes fixed on each other. It was one of those pivotal moments when one doesn’t quite know what the other is thinking but has a pretty good idea. Alex swallowed hard. He was on the verge of doing something he may wind up regretting and felt conflicted. As a world traveler, he wasn’t a prude, but had always managed to avoid those things that weren’t aligned with his family values or Jesus. And what was crossing his mind right then most certainly did not.
He was about to comment on the wedding vow remark when a sleek-looking young girl with fiery red hair walked up behind Lauren and gave her a hug. Dressed to the nines, she looked barely old enough to drive much less be in a bar. If it hadn’t been for abundant cleavage shown off by a tight bodycon dress, he would have sworn she was still in high school.
In a way, the big Texan was happy for the interruption. It gave him a way out of potentially making a mistake. After Lauren made some quick introductions, Alex motioned for his check and offered the stool to Chloe.
“It was nice to see you again Miss Lauren,” Alex tipped his hat, letting his gaze linger a bit on the pretty face and black bangs before turning to the younger woman. “And a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Chloe. Sorry I have to go. I assure you it has nothing to do with your arrival. I just need to get some sleep. Saturdays are always busy in my business, what with spring vacations coming up and all. You ladies take care now and enjoy your evening, ya hear?”
Lauren watched with disappointment as the generous gentleman handed the bartender a Franklin to ‘cover the girls’, and quickly headed to the door. With a sigh she turned back to her girlfriend who was busy ordering a drink.
Probably for the best. He was too good a man to bring into such a sordid affair. Kind of like Corey before the…infection.
As the girls were discussing which clubs they wanted to hit, Lauren noticed her friend’s eyes fix on something just beyond her shoulder. Turning, she found Alex standing there with a piece of paper in his hand.
“Sunday morning, seven o’clock,” Cartwright whispered. “Malinkrout Marina. Slip 41. I like to get an early start. This is my number if you get lost.”
And with that, he disappeared again, leaving Chloe grinning into her fresh vodka tonic. “Looks like you have a bona fide date there, whore.”
Lauren blushed as she slurped the last of the Hurricane through the oversized straw.
“I guess I do.”
+++++
Lauren was still glowing from Alex’s invitation as Chloe dragged her from one venue to another. She felt like she’d just been asked out by the all-star quarterback and had a permanent grin tattooed on her face. The giddiness was evident and helped her get through her friend’s rather dubious choices in clubs. It wasn’t that the older woman disliked them because they were meat markets — Lord knows that short conversation with Tex had left her wet and ready — but predictably, most of the places Chloe frequented catered to the late college set, and Lauren was getting the same wary looks as a Greek house mom might receive. Sure, there were plenty of drive-bys, but in all cases it was quite clear which of the two girls the men were most interested in.
Just when they were about to leave the fourth club, Chloe received a call which took her outside. Returning a minute later, she apologized and shouted over the din of the EDM that ‘Autumn’ had an opportunity for ‘two large’ that she just couldn’t pass up. Something about another girl getting sick and needed a last-minute sub. Chloe offered to use the ride-share she’d just ordered to either drop Lauren off at another bar or take her home. Looking out over the sea of young, gorgeous people dancing and partying, the tired brunette chose the latter. At twice everyone else’s age, it was probably best to just go home and fire up the Chairman of the Board.
+++++
By the time Chloe dropped her friend at her building, Lauren was eager to climb into bed with her ten-inch vibrator and tell Corey about being asked out on her first real date in over thirty years. She was sure the little perv would be surprised. This was not just one-off sex or fuckbuddy stuff either, but a real date with a genuinely nice guy, not some overbearing frat kid or colleague with their own phrenic issues. The thought of her out on a boat alone with a handsome man would surely send her husband into a licentious frenzy, giving him jerk-off material into the next century!
A date. It was hard not wonder where a simple sailing adventure would lead. Lauren could sense Alex was interested but wrestling with a righteous upbringing. Like he was trying to decide if Corey providing a hall pass somehow gave him an escape clause to pursue her. And she’d seen the surreptitious sideways glances from under the brim of that cowboy hat. Alex may have been principled, but he was also a man that was ripe for the taking.
Whatever will be, will be, she thought, but one thing was for sure. Her bladder was about to burst, and Lauren wasn’t sure she could wait for the elevator. The old eyes of the concierge caught a glimpse of the trotting woman in a mini-skirt and flimsy halter top as she dashed through the lobby, all the while wobbling awkwardly on high heels. Immediately recognizable as Mrs. Miller in Twenty-three F, it came as no surprise that she was coming home yet again, drunk and looking hot as hell.
“Evening, ma’am,” the older man greeted her.
Lauren gave him a kindly, passing smile as she blew by him enroute to the ladies’ room. “Hi Harvey!”
The smile faded as she saw the ‘closed for cleaning’ sign on the door to both restrooms.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
Remembering the unisex lavatory in the lobby gym, Lauren swiped her fob and flew to the small private toilet to relieve herself, barely making it before letting go with a hot golden steam which flowed prolifically into the porcelain bowl below. Lauren sighed heavily as her bladder rapidly shrank, just thankful she didn’t have to wait for the elevator. After wiping and flushing, she stepped from small water closet and let the resulting euphoria wash over her. God, that felt good! Now she could retreat to her apartment and take care of her other ‘little problem’.
It was then she noticed the lone resident struggling with the free weights near the back of the gym.
Ah yes, Luke Walters, Fifteen B.
He was pretending not to look, but Lauren could feel his eyes on her scantily clad body as she walked across the rubber floor and past the small sauna towards the door to the lobby. Walters’ staring suddenly became an overwhelming source of arousal and caused her to stop in her tracks. Glancing back at the frail, milquetoast of a neighbor, the horny executive changed course and sauntered back to the steam room. Dramatically, she picked up a large towel and opened the door, stepping back to allow a burst of humid mist to escape before disappearing into the hot box. The last Luke saw was a crook of a finger beckoning him to follow.
Inside, Lauren grinned as she relaxed on the warm wooden bench. She was either going to ruin some of her best clubbing clothes or sacrificing them for a steam bath that neither resident of the Mystic Arms would ever forget.
+++++
Chloe Ceallaigh’s phone rang minutes before she arrived at the appointment for which she’d cut a night out with her friend for. It was Prurient Stables again. Mindful of the driver who could hear every word, she immediately slipped into her professional persona.
“Autumn Breeze,” she answered cheerfully, opening the car door and exiting onto a sidewalk in front of a posh hotel.
“Next Wednesday? That should work. I can switch shifts at Sandy’s.”
The woman on the other end seemed a bit panicked.
“What’s the problem, Agnes?” Chloe asked, clearly annoyed at what she was being told. “I see. Well, Katrina was the only one old enough to make that request believable. And for that price it’s got to be real. If she can’t make it, we have to get someone else. Just let me know who I’ll be working with.”
Chloe sighed and hung up, closing her eyes in thought. Moments later she dialed another number, which went straight to voice mail.
“Hey, it’s me. Got a business proposition that I think may be a good fit. Hit me back.”
Tossing the phone back into her purse, the 20-year-old dancer/escort blew curly red hair out of her face with a puff of air. Like an actress getting into character, ‘Autumn’ steadied herself and entered the hotel lobby. It was time to go to work.
+++++
Sitting on the smooth cedar bench, Lauren’s grin grew wider when the door to the sauna opened with a slow creak and a cautious Luke poked his head inside.
“Come on in neighbor,” she smiled, “there’s enough room for two.”
The bashful man gingerly entered the small room and closed the door behind him. He’d begun sweating before even entering.
“H-h-hi,” he stammered, not sure what to say. Social interaction wasn’t his thing.
“Sure is hot in here.”
“You have no idea.”
Lauren wasted no time in pulling him close and hooking a thumb into the band of his basketball shorts. Luke stared down at the hot older woman and cleared his throat. The humidity was working on the halter top, and it was now clinging tightly to her tiny chest. Quietly, Lauren placed one of his trembling hands over on her blouse and encouraged him to squeeze. He hadn’t felt many breasts in his life, but this one felt perfect in his hand. Pliable but firm, like the stress ball he kept on his desk at work.
“Oh wow,” he murmured as his thumb ran tentatively over the material covering the nipple. Like magic, it hardened under his caress.
“Nervous?” she asked sweetly, knowing she had to go slow. Her eyes closed in pleasure as his soft fingers began tweaking both tits.
“We…we shouldn’t be doing this in here,” Luke warned, looking back at the door which had been left open just a crack. “We could get in trouble.”
Lauren mulled that over. “Your right. Better make this fast then.”
Standing up, she pulled the flimsy top over her head and flung in on the bench. The skirt was next.
“Oh man,” he gasped, looking frantically between her naked body and the door. He could smell a mustiness that wafted up from her vagina like warm potpourri. Inhaling deeply, it began to work its magic. “You’re so beautiful.”
Lauren tested a theory. “First time?”
“Uh, second.”
Thought so. “Who was the first?”
“A friend.”
Well, while that wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t the whole truth either. His first had been while still living in his parent’s house when his drunk sister dared her slut friend Milly to take his virginity. She had come to him in the middle of the night and climbed in his bed. Luke knew it was an alcohol-influenced mercy fuck, but he didn’t care. It was a memory that had helped him through many lonely nights after.
“I see,” Lauren cooed as she sank back down on the bench, all the while making eye contact while pulling his shorts and briefs to the floor. What popped out into her face was a very nice surprise. Grabbing a condom from her sequined clutch, she unfurled it over the young man’s growing member.
“Oh wow,” he uttered for yet a third time, running his hand through his hair.
“Nice cock.”
“Really?” Luke gushed appreciatively.
“Uh huh, really. I bet your first got off nicely.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Do you like me?”
Walters nodded pensively, constantly checking the door. His virtuous upbringing was absolutely convinced they were going to be caught, be he was too hard to care. Lauren giggled at the paranoia and spit onto the latex to reduce the unnatural friction.
This caused her neighbor’s face to screwed up in ecstasy. “Mmmmmmm, ohhhhhh.”
The feeling was even more incredible than the thirty-one-year-old had remembered from his one midnight encounter. Mercifully, Lauren continued her ministrations, stroking and twirling her tongue around his angry, purple glans. When his erection filled out the rubber completely, she slurped the seven-inch cock into her mouth and took him deep. Not all the way for fear of making him cum prematurely, but close, enough that his wiry pubic hairs began to tickle her nose. That brought a string of appreciative moans from above. Lauren kept this up until she couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to be fucked right then and there.
Without a word, the wayward wife bent over the wooden bench, hands braced against the back wall. Luke couldn’t believe his good fortune as she presented him with the most delicious hairless, meaty clam he’d ever seen. Even in magazines. Unsure of himself at first, he grasped her small, soft hips, as if she was somehow a porcelain doll that could easily break. Sex with Milly had been straightforward and lasted only a few minutes. Although he’d seen doggystyle plenty of times online, the excitement of finally doing it for real nearly caused him to spill his load.
Moving closer to the pulsing, glistening pussy, Luke held his dick as steady as his trembling hands could and gently rubbed the head against the outer lips. At first it tickled, but the more he rubbed it on the velvety folds, the more he wanted to slide it into her inviting hole. Not wanting to hurt the wonderful woman who was giving him this special gift – and in such an unorthodox way — he continued to move it around her vulva as the moist slit gasped and pleaded to be fucked. The way she was moaning and backing into his groin assured him pain wasn’t a concern.
Sensing his hesitation, Lauren took over and pressed her ass into him, just enough to encourage the first inch or two to slip effortlessly into her already moist slit. As her mons widened to accept the timid cock, she decided it was time to turn up the heat.
“Do you want to fuck me, Luke?”
Gritting his teeth, the young man simply grunted. The bashfulness was slowly being replaced by the inner neanderthal that all men — mousy or not – channel when presented with such an opportunity.
“Then do it baby. Take me. FUCK ME NOW!”
Luke persona changed in an instant as he snarled and pushed in, a good amount of his length slipping easily into hallowed heat of her long-married cunt.
“Yesssss, just like that,” Lauren mewled, her hands sliding down the cedar wall to the bench, sweaty black hair dangling in front of her and clinging to her shoulders and chest.
And so, the carnal dance between the hotwife whore and a wide-eyed vestal neighbor she hardly knew began. The one-hundred-eighty-degree room filled with grunts and moans, accented by the sound of skin-on-skin as balls slapped rhythmically into taint and ass. It started awkwardly but settled in when the mild-mannered neighbor found his long-suppressed porn star stride, ramming his rarely used manhood deep into the slutty woman’s willing hole while admiring the sleekness of body as it melded with his. It was an encounter he wanted to last forever!
Tossing his head back in unadulterated pleasure, Luke let go a primal howl that resounded off the walls. Sparks flew between the two unlikely lovers as their bodies maintained a steady pace, their mutual cries of carnal passion rising above the heated mist and daring anyone to interrupt them. In his mind, Walters was longer a meek mollycoddle, but rather a Viking who was fucking his pillaged whore in a decidedly outrageous manner.
“Faster!” Lauren urged as telltale spasms began to rock her. “Deeper!”
Like the great warrior he imagined, Luke forced Lauren down on the bench in a prone position. He was in control of this slut as she moaned for his cock, her chest and belly sliding along the warm wood as he pummeled her. Enticed by the sleek and undulating ass in front of him, the triggered resident fucked to impress, aggressively plunging, pushing, and driving his steel deep until it seemed like it was scraping the very bottom of her womb. Lauren felt every delightful inch as it slid in and out of her whore cunt, the rise of a much-needed orgasm on the horizon.
“OH YES! OH YES! OH YES!”
“You like that?” Luke murmured, childlike at first, then in a much deeper voice, “WELL, DO YOU SLUT?”
He could feel the faint tugs of his own release bubbling up.
“YES, YES, fuck that cunt! Do me! Do me!”
“I am…I am…I am!” the young man yelped, almost apologetically as sweat poured from his contorted face.
Lauren’s eyes shut tightly as the whole room began to spin. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”
Luke knew he was close as he labored from behind her. Seeing that dark hair whip around like the adult film star he likened her to was something out of a wet dream.
“Gonna cum…”
Heeding the gentle bachelor’s kind warning, Lauren put aside her own orgasm and acted, quickly squatting on the bench. Ripping off the condom, she presented an open mouth, not unlike the videos Luke had seen online. The debauchery of it all suddenly overcame the nerdy Viking, causing him to lurch forward and lose control. Odd animal-like snorts were accompanied by wave after wave of pent-up lust as weeks’ worth of thick, gelatinous jizz showered Lauren’s hair and face. Even after the last milky drop had oozed from his deflating tool, he stood with dick in hand, not believing the real-life scene he’d just been a part of. The sight of his cum cascading down the chin of the gorgeous neighbor and onto the whiteness of her bikini top band was one he’d not soon forget. What would his friends think of him now?
As the afterglow faded, the now familiar residents dressed in silence. Lauren wiped her soiled hair and face with the towel and dropped it in the used-cloth bin. They carefully pushed on the already open door and peered into the gym. To their relief it was still empty, sending them scurrying for the door to the lobby in an attempt to remain unseen. Once there, their heart rate and pace slowed. It was now just a quick walk to separate elevator banks.
Any yet, while the salacious tenants may have been congratulating themselves for flying under the radar of everyone else, their hasty retreat failed to see the much older concierge lurking in the shadows behind the rowing machines. Chuckling softly, he pocketed his phone and headed towards his station at the front desk.
That’s a keeper.
+++++
Saturday, January 13.
The kindly waitress placed a hefty dinner plate in front of the lonely looking man who had taken up residence in a corner booth away from other diners.
“Pastrami on rye, pickles on the side.”
The gray-haired gentleman was friendly enough. About six months ago, he’d begun coming in at least once a week and always settled in the same spot, a Cyclones baseball cap pulled low over his brow.
That day, he looked particularly distressed. “You okay, sugar?” she asked sympathetically.
Nodding, Corey shook some salt over his slaw and picked at the hot food. Another Saturday afternoon with nothing to do. At least he had professional football the next day, and the collegiate National Title game was Monday night.
He thought back to the previous evening and wondered if Lauren had indeed “gotten hers.” That was the toughest part, the not knowing. Staying behind was his biggest regret. Had he been there with her, he would know when she got home, known she was safe. Lately though, she’d been increasingly mysterious, leaving him to wonder what she was up to and with who. Perhaps Lauren was doing that on purpose, living up to her promise to support his fetish. And yet, what if there were far more nefarious reasons, like an affair she wasn’t telling him a about? A romance that could cost them their marriage? Either way, it left a huge hole in his heart and a lump in his pants. He hated himself for being aroused at the prospect of losing his wife, but he couldn’t ignore it just because he didn’t like it. Corey had erotized the risk to such an extent that living on the razor edge of disaster and thinking of the peril had driven him to some of the most gratifying orgasms lately.
As he stewed about his current predicament and lamented being more than a thousand miles away, a large body cast a long shadow across the booth’s table. From under the bill of his hat Corey could see two oil-stained jeans legs and a pair of dark brown work boots standing near. Fuck. There was no question who it was.
Zane Picardo.
“How ya doing, Cors?”
Not bothering to look up, the older man swallowed a bite of pastrami. “Never better.”
“We need to talk, buddy.”
Finally, Corey raised his head. Zane was a large, rough, and saucy as ever. “So, talk.”
The biker shook his head and pointed to a tavern across the street. “Not here. Clancy’s Pub.”
The green and red Christmas lights of the dive bar across the two-lane state highway were twinkling in the twilight. Apparently, the owner had not gotten the memo about the holidays being over.
“Fine.”
Throwing a twenty and a ten on the table, Corey followed his one-time best friend out of the diner and into the freezing cold.
+++++
The amicable motorcycle mechanic set down a pitcher of beer and two frosty glasses on a shaky two-top and adjusted the wobbly foot on one of the four legs. As the two men shrugged off their winter coats, they threw quick waves at several friends scattered about the local honky-tonk, including one of Lauren’s best friends, Gail Weathersby.
After much useless conversation about the weather and the latest sports updates, Zane chose to take on the elephant in the room directly.
“Why you been shutting me out, man?”
Corey leaned back in his chair, anxiously looking around the bar.
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit.”
The project manager raised his eyebrows at his lifelong friend. “I have to spell it out for you?”
Zane shook his head. “No man, you don’t. I slept with Lauren. I get it.”
Corey’s psyche reeled at hearing his best friend say it out loud. It stung…bad. And yet, that familiar tingle in his loins was ever present.
“What I don’t get,” the slightly younger man wondered, “is why I’m the bad guy here. It’s like you’re the victim. If you remember, you set that whole thing up. Without my knowledge. You and Lauren used me as a pawn in your stupid sex games. I’m the one that was played here.”
“Yeah, about that. You’re right. It was fucked up. I’m sorry.”
Zane nodded seriously and hoisted his beer mug. “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. Look, dude, I only grabbed the carrot you guys dangled in front of me. Can you blame me? I mean, Lauren is hot as fuck.”
“No.”
“So, why’d you do it?”
Corey looked down at his glass. “I don’t know.”
“There’s that bullshit again. C’mon man, it’s ME dude! We’ve always been straight with each other. Why stop now?”
“I…I can’t.”
The pair sat in silence until Zane decided to press on.
“It’s because I know what cranks your shaft these days, isn’t it?”
That put a small grin on Corey’s face. Zane, always with the motorcycle references.
“You think that’s like some big deal dude? Some of the guys I ride with have been sharing their ol’ ladies for years.”
“It’s…it’s not quite the same. It’s not about swinging.”
Zane forced his face back to a solemn expression to reassure his friend he was taking this conversation seriously. “Yeah, man, I know. Lauren explained it. All of it. And you’d be proud of me, I even I’ve read up on it and I don’t read anything unless it’s about transmissions or tits. It’s a different bag for sure, not for everyone. But it’s not like you’re into fucking dead people or animals. I mean, really, who gives two shits if you like to watch? You embarrassed by it or somethin’?”
Corey shrugged. “Lots of haters out there.”
Picardo took a drink and wiped the foam from his mouth. “I haven’t outed you, dude. And I don’t judge.” The big man squared his shoulders. “Look, I’m not good at this emotional stuff, so I’m only gonna say this once. Did I enjoy being with Lauren? Yeah, who wouldn’t? Was I surprised when she told me about y’all? Yeah, not gonna lie. Was I pissed ’cause you played me? Yep, straight up. Do I want this to end our friendship? Hell, no. I want my fishing bud back. I want to hit the triple-A rink again and see some blood.”
The two men stared at each other across the small table. Finally, Corey cracked a half-smile.
Zane matched the grin and watched the cute butt of a waitress waddle as she walked by. “Well. That’s all I got to say. Don’t be lookin’ for any of that kumbaya shit.”
Corey thought for a moment, then cocked an eyebrow. “You liked being with Lauren?”
It was the biker’s turn to carefully think. Fucking Lauren was like going to heaven. Nasty, raw, and just plain dirty. But now was not the time to show his very real enthusiasm about his best friend’s wife.
“Well, we all go way back, right? She’s been your woman and my friend for what? Thirty years now? She’s great, so…yeah.”
“But you enjoyed being with her?”
Zane’s gaze settled on his older pal, and he narrowed his eyes.
“Yeah, I already said that. Why?”
“She came on to you, looking good in those leathers. I bet you watched her ass all night, didn’t you?”
“Uh, well…” The biker wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.
“…blew you in the john.”
He and Corey had traded notes on chicks before, but this wasn’t just any girl, this was Lauren they were talking about.
“Dude…”
“Where did you finish?”
The mechanic tilted his head incredulously.
“Are you sure you want to…?”
“Where? In her mouth?”
“Geez man,…c’mon. I guess. Thereabouts. I really don’t remember. We were totally baked.”
Actually, that was only half the truth. There was no way Zane would ever forget that blowjob; he’d had even jerked off a time or two to the memory.
Corey squeezed his eyes shut, enjoying the pressure of his cock throbbing against his jeans.
“Then you took her to your motel room.”
Picardo skewered him with a piercing look. “What’s up with the twenty questions, bro? You already know what happened.”
“I want to hear it from you.”
The biker clasped his hands around the back of his head and look around at other oblivious customers in disbelief. Whatever his friend had, he had it bad, and he was starting to see that side right then. Okay, fuck it, I’ll play along.
“So yeah man, we went to the room.”
“What did you do there?”
“Talked.”
“What else?”
Zane leaned in and sneered at his friend. “This is weird, man.”
“What else?”
“We made out.”
One of Corey’s hands began to shake as it tried to grasp the beer mug and take a drink. The other’s fingers drummed on the table nervously. “And?” he asked breathlessly.
“Like, look, you got to understand, bro. She laid it all out there in front of me. I mean, Lauren was always the school-marm type, right? Sexy, but in a sexy librarian kind of way. That’s all we’ve ever known. So when she stripped off those pants, I had no choice. I got my face all up in that.”
Corey closed his eyes and moaned. “You ate her out.” It was a statement, not a question.
Zane looked around the bar again, thankful the music was so loud. “Uh, yeah.”
“Did you like how she tasted?”
Picardo stared intently at his buddy. He couldn’t believe they had gone down this road, but here they were. And it was actually a little hot talking about it. “You already know the answer to that.”
“Then what?”
“We, uh…”
Corey opened his eyes. “You what?” His lower lip and cock were both quivering.
“C’mon, man, you damn well know what happened.”
“I want to hear it from you?”
“Corey, don’t, I mean, really…”
“SAY IT!”
“Dude…”
Corey rose to his feet, fire in his eyes. “SAY IT MOTHERFUCKER!”
Zane leapt up as well and banged his fists on the table, sending one of the mugs flying off the table as the music in the juke box abruptly ended.
“I FUCKED YOUR OL’ LADY, OKAY? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR? I FUCKED THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN WIFE!”
The ten seconds of dead air between when that song ended, and the Rock-Ola queued up the next one was the longest moment of silence in pub history as the other patrons stopped to gawk at the two men staring each other down. Many of them snickered, most expected a fight.
As the soulful twangs of the next country ballad began, Zane followed his friend’s gaze which had turned to where Lauren’s girlfriend Gail was sitting with another couple, mouth agape even as the tavern got back to normal. Acting quickly, the roughneck grabbed Corey by the collar pushed his friend towards the door.
“Let’s get the fuck outta here.”
+++++
After spending a rare Saturday afternoon of leisurely shopping by herself, Lauren curled up with a pizza and romantic movie, then laid in her bed staring at the ceiling. Feeling a bit melancholy, she retrieved her tablet and the Chairman, then called Corey using the camcorder he’d left behind. Taking a half-smoked joint and ashtray from the nightstand, she lay in her teddy with head propped against headboard and took an occasional hit as the two talked. It seemed she was getting high a lot lately, but Corey decided against mentioning it. E
Eventually she got around to her brief tryst in the gym’s sauna, relating the hook up in such detail that it go them both hot very quickly, resulting with the massive vibrator stuck up her pussy and he with a new homemade toy that involved a velvet line toilet paper roll. Lauren bit her lip as he slipped tube over his well-lubed, small-girthed dick and masturbated. She laughed hysterically when he came, the head sticking out one end pulsating purple as it shot several listless white ropes onto his belly. “What a waste!”
After cleaning up, the couple laid naked on their respective beds a thousand miles apart, discussing her upcoming trip for the reunion and to help pack. During a natural break in the conversation, Lauren brought up her date the next day.
“You remember Alex, right?”
Corey looked a bit stunned but kept it together. “A date?”
“Yes, silly, a date. You said it would be a good idea.”
“I said I wouldn’t mind while I was stuck up here.”
“Same difference.”
“You said you were just going to think about it.”
“I said it would be more fun than going to a museum,” Lauren said decidedly. “And I have thought about it and I’m going out with Alex.”
Corey swallowed. “What do you know about him?”
“He’s handsome, rich, and has a big boat. What’s more to know?”
Normally, hearing his wife talk about another man this way would invoke the mixture of emotions that he so yearned to feel. This time, for some reason, it was just pure jealousy.
“I see,” came the despondent response.
Lauren frowned. “What’s wrong? I’d thought you’d be happy.”
“I…I am.”
“Hey, cheer up. I’ll send you pictures and tell you all about the day. It’ll be fun!”
“Yeah.”
Awkward silence found them staring at each other through the screens. She could see lines of anxiety on this face.
“Do you not want me to go?”
Corey shook his head. “No…go.”
Lauren scooted closer to the camera with a worried look on her face, naked breasts jiggling softly.
“Corey, babe,” she purred lovingly, “You have my heart always.”
Several moments went by before she looked back at the tablet and realized the call had been intentionally disconnected.
He hadn’t heard her one word of her declaration of love.
+++++
Sunday, January 14.
“Ave Maria, Gratia plena, Maria, gratia plena…”
Lauren snapped one eye open in the pitch-black room as the soft choir music played.
What the fuck?
The clock radio on the nightstand blinked a blue six a.m. as she swung her feet off the mattress and onto the floor.
Jesus, the sun’s not even up yet. And what’s with the religious music?
Then she remembered. It’s Sunday. Time to sail.
Gradually, the heaviness in her eyes lifted and she managed to stand, snagging the Chairman off the bed to give him a good cleaning.
A quick shower chased any remnants of sleep away, waking her up enough to apply a bit of makeup and select her outfit for the day: a cute blue and white striped yeoman’s three-quarters length top (picked up on sale yesterday!), white capris, and tan boat shoes. Lauren tossed the golden bikini she had worn on Myles’ day cruise in a weekender bag and donned a pair of oversized sunglasses, nodding to herself in the mirror as she headed to the lobby.
She was ready for her first real date in years.
+++++
The Amarillo Sky’s triple screws were already idling in the pre-dawn darkness when Alex Cartwright extended his hand and helped his new friend aboard. Lauren graciously accepted a warm blanket from the big Texan and settled into a seat behind him in the towering cockpit. Air temps were in the low sixties as they motored their way south from the Causeway marina and into Biscayne Bay. By the time the boat passed the unique and abandoned Stiltsville, the sun was over the horizon and bathing boaters with its welcome warmth.
Lauren brushed wisps of hair out of her face as the cool ocean breeze caressed her skin. Alex proved to be the perfect tour guide, pointing out various landmarks as the vessel chugged south towards North Key Largo. It was a much different view than when Myles’ huge yacht went due east, out into the ocean. This was a more personable look at the coastline. And yet, while the various wildlife preserves were captivating and all, the slinky brunette’s eyes kept returning to her skillful pilot.
The Texas beefcake wasn’t every woman’s cup of tea. She could certainly see the one-time rancher in him. Rustic without being a hayseed, his square jaw and high cheekbones were set sternly below his white wide-brim cowboy hat. He considered navigating a boat a serious matter, constantly looking port and starboard for vehicles that may be crossing their path. The powder-blue long-sleeve casual cotton shirt he was wearing was untucked and unbuttoned to his navel, flapping in the wind to reveal plenty of hairy chest and flat stomach muscles. Below that were loose fitting nylon sailing shorts that allowed more than a hint of what was swinging between his legs. This was a man in control of his life, who’d made the pivot from the open skies of El Paso to the blue ones of the Atlantic, content now to help others realize their dreams of travelling to exotic places. Still, there seemed to be a sadness about him, perhaps because he had no one to share his own dreams with.
Lauren snapped numerous pics of the magnificent scenery as they slid by key after key, sending them to Corey to chronicle her day. A few of them even included Captain Alex’s profile as he guided his ship southward, commander of the seven seas. What will he be commanding tonight? she wondered.
The mid-morning sun was blazing when the couple arrived in Key Largo, mooring at a private dock owned by one of Alex’s business partners who also happened to live on the island. Impressed, Lauren gathered a few things from the boat and followed her pilot up a small path, around the bluest of kidney shaped pools, and to a waiting Jeep alongside a gorgeous country club house clad with a marvelous stucco finish. Greeting them with keys in hand was a friendly looking man with a white beard, t-shirt, and board shorts. Alex introduced him Sal Bender, an entrepreneur who fancied himself a hippie, albeit one that drove a Ghost.
A hug and a fist bump later, Lauren and her date were tooling down state road 905 through the Crocodile Lake Wildlife Refuge and into Pennekamp State Park. The islands were quite different than the Miami concrete jungle she was accustomed to, and she marveled at the diverse foliage and wildlife. Stopping at various trail heads, they explored the boardwalks while Alex pointed out exotic animals the native Iowan had only seen in photos. White pelicans, which only graced Florida in the winter, beautiful red egrets, and even a Mangrove Cuckoo. Lauren had to chuckle at the namesake of her husband’s kink, snapping a photo to later send to Corey. Perhaps he could use it as his social media avatar. The irony of catching a glimpse of the rare bird did not escape her; a naughty aspect of her life invading an otherwise charming and romantic day. Very apropos.
The couple had a blast exploring blueish-green swamps from the safety of well-defined pathways, always aware of their surroundings should they stumble upon a croc or two sunning themselves. Lauren hoped to see a real live alligator but the only reptiles crossing their paths that day were scurrying geckos. Alex was patient during their walks, helping her over fallen logs or whisking her over a washed-out trail. The contact was incidental at first: a lift of the hand here, a playful bump there, the lingering of hands-on-hips when navigating around obstacles. But slowly the gap between the two closed, and soon the touch of a finger became hand holding, the helpful steadiness a bicep became an arm around the waist.
The electricity between the two was growing palpable, yet through it all the Texan was a consummate gentleman, never overstepping, always keeping things near platonic levels. As morning became afternoon, he felt his attraction to the raven-haired beauty grow stronger with every smile, every strand of hair over her ear, and every lilt of laughter. Even though her wedding ring was an ever-present reminder that he was playing with fire, Alex began to feel his moral compass begin to waver.
Lauren’s thoughts tended to be less principled. Her eyes continually drifting to the capacious bulge beneath her tour guide’s sailing shorts. Although it appeared loose and firm and at the ready, she knew she had to check her ambitions and take things slowly. While certainly not a virgin, this was not a man who was looking for a quick roll in the sack. At least not without some semblance of courtship first.
Throughout the day, the pair kept their phones busy, snapping tons of selfies and photos of the scenic island. Every so often Lauren sent select pics to Corey, showing how the date was progressing. Some were of her alone, sweeping vistas of the swamps in the background, others of her cheek to cheek with Alex. A few were of both taken by a kindly passerby.
After a mid-afternoon lunch featuring crab legs and roasted vegetables, Alex decided it was time to head back to the Amarillo Sky. They would need to castoff soon if they wanted to make Miami by twilight. That was fine by Lauren. While she hated to leave the tropical scenery behind, she was also eager to spend time alone with the hunky cowboy. As the sleek boat pulled away from the pier and got underway, the foxy office manager slipped below deck to wash off sweat and dirt that had accumulated during their adventure. The air temperature had rebounded nicely, reaching the mid-eighties, and she wanted to get some sun. Several minutes later, the ever-vigilant Alex, perched high in the cockpit, was pleasantly floored by the absolute hottie who strolled onto the bow in a barely-there gold string bikini. Lauren pretended not to see the gawking admirer as she laid on the princess pad and began to soak up some rays.
Cartwright prided himself on his piloting skills but found the beauty lying before him to be a major distraction. If the girl looked good before, she was absolutely banging in that swimsuit. Honestly, her body was tighter than he’d seen on many women less than half her age. Smaller breasts than he was accustomed to, of course, but still admirably firm and supple for her age. He had to shake his head when she pulled the bridge of her bottoms down to just below where the bare treasure laid. His eyes kept gravitating to the gap between her legs and wondering whether that still hidden beaver was truly hairless, or whether it was just an optical illusion caused by the glare off the water.
By the time they motored out of Card Sound and passed Old Rhodes Key, Lauren decided to up the ante by unceremoniously untying the back of her top and nonchalantly letting it fall to her side. After sending a few more pics taken that day to Corey, she leaned back on the warm marine vinyl, arching her back with dramatic flair, pushing her breasts skyward and stretching. Predictably, none of this was lost on the captive audience just ten feet above.
Alex could not help squeezing his burgeoning erection as he continued to navigate northward. With that kind of scenery, could anyone really blame him? All alone in the middle of a bay with a nearly naked goddess with the most inviting tomato-sized tits he’d ever seen. Had he plowed into one of the frequent fisher or tour boats crisscrossing his path, the Coast Guard would have taken one look at Lauren and sent them on their way. Nuff said. Sadly, it wasn’t too long before the wind shifted with the sinking sun, sending a chill through the skinny sunbather, forcing her back into the cabin for a coverup, in which she soon appeared at the back of the cockpit.
“Cold?” the smiling captain asked, his eyes drinking in her loveliness.
“Not really,” his flirtatious date laughed. “In fact, me thinks things are just getting warmed up.”
+++++
Corey stepped back and surveyed the increasingly sparse kitchen. Box after box sat stacked alongside and on top of each other, filled with small appliances, plates, and drinking glasses. Another hour or so and he’d be able to check that room off the packing list and be able to watch the late afternoon football playoff game.
Ding
The phone notification echoed from the study and throughout the near empty house. Dusting off his hands, he walked down the hallway and picked up the device. It was a message from Lauren.
Hey, just wanted to let you know my date with Alex is going well. Great guy and very attentive.
Corey looked at the message and the photos that followed dubiously. Most were closeups of the pair, irritatingly happy, cheeks together, smiling; the obligatory long reach to get the camera angle just right. By necessity, their arms were closed around each other, creating very intimate poses. There were a few of Lauren, alone and frolicking on some sandy beach, jumping and skipping about. At least a couple had been taken by somebody else; one showing them standing close, arms interlock, another with Lauren’s hands on the Texan’s chest as he held her tight; yet another candid shot where she had spontaneously jumped on Alex’s back for a piggyback ride.
It was all very cute and playful…and a rude reminder of why the project manager had been working so hard that day. Not to remember, but to forget. Forget that his wife was on a date with a man twice his size; probably in more ways than one. Forget that he was stuck in Iowa with sleet pelting the windows while she was cavorting about South Florida without him.
But damn, she looks good. It was true; SO good! Between those tight white capris, her blue and white striped top, and long mane of jet-black hair, she could have been a model for any travel agency. But it wasn’t a fantasy. It was her date.
Corey closed his eyes and let those words sink in. Why was there so much anxiety over something he had asked for; given her permission to do? After all, it’s what he’d suggested, wasn’t it? Sure, it was inherently different. Not like the indiscriminate sex she’d had thus far. Sex with little to no emotional ties. He took another gander at the pictures. This was definitely different. It was there in her eyes. Lauren was having fun. Real fun, the kind that comes from enjoying the company of people who matter, and not just a means to an end. The risk in that was obvious. Miami was teeming with younger, wealthier, and more virile men. The possibility of her falling for another guy increased exponentially when significant feelings, not just lust, were allowed to be part of the equation.
And yet, even as he considered the potential for disastrous consequences, Corey felt the indescribable ‘it’ pulsing through his veins, the mélange of angst that only those struck by the fetish’s addiction could possibly understand. It was almost a certainty the day would end with his wife in the arms of another man, making love until both crumbled into a hot mess of wet sheets and heavy breathing.
His cock leapt at the conjured image. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
+++++
“Why thank you, kind sir,” Lauren smiled, accepting yet another glass of white wine. Her and Alex had settled into a cozy couch located on the stern of the boat after a fantastic dinner. The two had just feasted on shrimp scampi the talented captain had whipped up in the galley, and they were now just focusing on taking it easy after a full day of tooling around the bay. The slip 0was perfectly positioned to take in the city’s skyline as the sun set behind the high-rises.
“I had a wonderful time today,” Lauren snuggled closely to her host. “I never knew Florida was such a tropical paradise.”
“Next time we’ll hit the Everglades,” Alex nodded. “That’s were the wilderness is.”
“Next time, huh?”
The big man blushed. “Only if you’d like.”
The two sat in silence and watched a plane maneuver into a landing pattern for Miami International.
“It really is a magic city, isn’t it?”
The cowboy laughed at her attempt to romanticize the ninth largest metroplex in the U.S. “I suppose. If you like sex, drugs, and money.”
“I find all those things quiet enchanting, don’t you?”
Cartwright shook his head in mock disgust and leaned back, resting one arm along the couch behind her head. He pointed the wine glass in the other hand at the colorfully lit urban life spread out in front of them.
“There’s a lot of broken dreams out there.”
“And a lot of found ones too,” Lauren countered, grinning.
Alex clinked the rims of their stemware together. “Touché.”
“And what about your dreams, Austin?”
Grabbing the wine bottle chilling in an ice bucket beside them, he topped off their glasses and thought about that poignant question.
“When my parents died, I turned my back on my roots. Well, the ranching part anyway, not the culture. I’d still be there, carrying on Daddy’s ways if it hadn’t been for the damn accident. After that, I needed a fresh start and had to get out of El Paso. I wanted to be successful on my own while travelling the world. I guess I’ve done that. With success comes money.”
Lauren flipped the bill of his well-worn hat. “You sure don’t show it.”
“I don’t need to show off. Too much pride is…”
“A sin. Yeah, I know.”
The couple sipped wine and listened to the smooth jazz playing softly from the cabin speakers.
“What of the other deadly sins?” Lauren mused. “Where do you stand on them?”
“Hmm,” Alex touched his chin in thought, “try me.”
“Wrath.”
“Ah yes. Well, I’m pretty laid back, so nah.”
“You didn’t seem so easy going when those guys were bothering me at Taffy’s.”
“I saw a pretty girl in distress, what can I say?”
Lauren scootched closer and gripped his shirt. “You think I’m pretty, huh?”
Alex squared with her, allowing his arm to drop a little, just touching the back of her neck.
“Gorgeous,” he grinned, “Simply gorgeous. Especially in the bathing suit competition.”
“Naughty boy. How about gluttony?”
“Do I look like I overeat?”
Lauren put a hand on his well-defined abs. “Definitely not.”
“Next.”
“Let’s see…” She tried to remember the list from her bible studies. “Sloth. No, you don’t seem lazy. How about greed.”
“I live on a small boat when I could be living in a penthouse. The last time I bought anything for myself was a pair of jeans. Does that sound greedy to you?”
“Good point,” the attractive executive laughed, snuggling further, pleased when the arm behind her draped over her shoulders. She reached up and took his hand, pulling it down over her chest.
“Envy.”
“That’s a tough one. Otherwise known as coveting, right?”
Lauren looked into his eyes, their noses nearly touching. “Yes. Like in coveting someone’s wife.”
They could feel each other’s hot breath.
“Do you…covet…anything Alex?”
Their noses briefly touched, the warm tips brushing together ever so lightly, both knowing they were on the cusp of something exciting.
“I’m not sure I can do this. Your…your husband…” the conflicted giant stuttered.
“He knows I here. With you. Tonight.”
Alex drew her closer, their nostrils flaring, lips barely touching. He couldn’t resist this much longer.
“And he’s good with…us?”
She let a hand drift to a twitching lap and nodded. “Yes.”
The Texan moaned at her fingers drumming on his shorts. The whole situation was fucked up, but he was at the point of no return.
“But my husband needs to be a part of this too.”
After Corey hung up on her last night, Lauren had told herself it had to be this way.
Cartwright stopped nibbling. He wasn’t counting on that. “Eh, exactly how?”
“He likes to watch.”
“Noooooo. No way, I’m sorry,” Alex groaned again as Lauren unbuttoned his shorts and snaked a hand beneath his briefs. Her eyes had not been deceiving her; the hype was real.
“That’s quite a bat there, Casey Jones.”
“Damn, woman, you sure are fast.”
“You have no idea. So, we need to resolve this. Can he at least listen?”
“Huh?”
She grasped his fat cock and began stroking him with purpose.
“Can he listen?”
“I don’t know.”
Lauren pushed aside his shirt and lowered her head to his nipples. Her hair cascaded down to his waist.
“Do you remember the seventh deadly sin?” she asked between suckling.
“Murder?”
“No silly.”
Slurp, pull, slurp.
Lauren lifted his hand and placed it between her legs. He could feel the heat burning through bikini bottom.
“Stealing?”
Coming up for air, she shook her head, then pulled his mouth to hers, darting a tongue between his open lips. “What is it you want to do?”
“I want to make love to you.”
Her hand pumped his cock harder.
“How badly?”
Alex lurched forward, his moans wafting over the water.
“How badly?”
The Texan gnashed his teeth together. There was clearly only one path forward.
“Make the call.”
“What was that?”
“Just make the goddamn call.”
Lauren laid down on the vinyl couch and pulled him on top of her.
“Lust,” she puffed in his ear.
“Eh?”
“The last deadly sin is lust.”
Alex sighed as he kissed her dainty neck and slipped a hand beneath her cover up.
“No shit.”
+++++
The Sunday night football game was well into second quarter when Corey poured his third drink. He leaned back into the easy chair and relished the smooth finish as the whiskey warmed his blood. The entire day had been successful in taking his mind off ‘the date’. Packing the kitchen, tossing old lawn chemicals from the garage that could not be stored, and now the glorious grid iron. That night’s contest was just interesting enough to continue the distraction, but between plays he found himself wondering. He looked at the photos again, especially the one where Lauren had playfully jumped on the Texan’s back, arms around his neck, head on his shoulder. They looked so happy. Not a care in the world.
It would have been a little after nine on the east coast. Perhaps they were just finishing up dinner, maybe even watching the same game. From what he recalled the big guy was a football fan too. More likely though, they were out walking the marinas, taking in the beauty of the city.
Or maybe…
Corey visibly jumped when his phone lit up. For a moment he simply stared at his wife’s smiling face, a pic taken at one of their summer parties years ago. After several seconds he accepted the call.
“Hello?”
There was no response. Just white noise from an open mic. Somewhere in the distance, the blast of an airhorn blared.
What the fuck?
The dead air was soon replaced by rustling noises and heavy breathing. Then came the unmistakable sounds of kissing. The wet, sloppy kind where tongues were surely involved.
Holy shit, they’re making out!
Corey’s cock jumped to attention beneath his sweatpants, the close game on the television forgotten. More kisses and whispering. He could make out a “feels good” and several “just like thats”.
The heavy breathing continued with the occasional shifting of bodies on something crinkly, like vinyl.
“Mmmm, oh!” Lauren exclaimed. Then, “yes suck them. Suck them hard.”
“So beautiful,” Alex murmured as the wetness of his tongue against her rigid nipples resounded through small speaker.
What happened? Did she accidently call? Maybe from when she had sent him pictures?
Corey reached for his growing erection.
Or was this on purpose?
“Not here,” Corey heard Lauren say breathlessly. More shuffling, louder now, as if they were changing locations.
“The cabin then,” Alex replied.
More whispering.
“Is he there? Can he hear?”
“I think so,” came Lauren’s hushed response.
Corey’s fingers collapsed around the shaft of his shriveled, underutilized cock.
This ain’t no accident.
The white noise subsided; it was quieter now. They must have gone inside.
“Ow,” he heard Lauren exclaim, like she stubbed her toe. “I can’t see.”
“You don’t need to,” Alex assured her.
A playful yelp as something creaked. A bed?
Giggles.
“Take that off.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Lauren cooed. “This too?”
“What do you think?”
More kissing. Sighing. Tiny cries.
“Oh wow.” Alex sounded surprised.
“You like my bare pussy, baby?”
“Uh huh. So soft.”
“Lick it, then. Suck my married cunt.”
A low, slow, and guttural moan filled the speakers as Corey tried to follow along. The Texan was definitely eating her out.
Corey stroked his dick tightly as the cunnilingus continued for well over ten minutes. Lauren’s reaction ranged from groans to squeals, back to groans again as the lapping grew louder and more intense. There were quiet moments too, that gave way to intense ones as her pilot’s tongue brought her to several modest but real orgasms. Ultimately, it was not enough.
“Come here,” the black-haired temptress demanded.
Additional shuffling along with a few gasps. Corey pictured the giant of a man slowly ascending Lauren, poised to enter his wife.
“Are you sure?” he heard Alex ask.
Lauren giggled again. “Go ask.”
“Yeah, no.”
“Then just fuck me. Fuck me like he can’t anymore. Make me cum on that big fat cock.”
Corey inhaled sharply, nearly losing his load onto the recliner’s leather.
“Don’t you think that’s a little cruel?” Alex whispered, barely audible.
“He gets off on it,” she scoffed. “Scouts honor.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever been a scout.”
Sharp puffs of air, a few sniffs, heavy exhaling.
“You’re so wet.”
“Wet for you, baby, wet for that massive cowboy dick.”
“Should I get a…?”
“Don’t worry about it. I trust you.”
“But, what about, um…him? He may want me to.”
Lauren laughed maniacally. While that came off as bone chilling through the phone, what Corey couldn’t know was that his loving wife had decided well in advance that she was going to push his proclivity hard that night.
“Fuck him, cuck’s not even here to screw me. I need a real man like you to get me off, and I want to feel all of you!”
Corey had to let go of his pulsating dick to keep from cumming right there and then. His wife had just made the not insignificant decision to let this man fuck her bareback.
Several grunts, a moan, more panting.
“Oooooooo, yes put it right there. Don’t tease me so much, damnit, just do it. Do me now.”
The couple gasped in unison. It didn’t take much imagination to know what was happening. His wife of 28 years, his soul mate and life partner, was opening her sopping wet pussy to yet another new lover.
“Mmmm, ohhhh.”
His cock would be about halfway in by now, working its way to the depths of her womb. Lauren inhaled sharply, then let it out. He was surely slipping deeper.
MASSIVE exhale; a loud “OH GOD!”
There! He just hit rock bottom.
The sheets rustled and the mattress could be heard rubbing against the box springs.
The fucking had begun in earnest.
“Um, oh, um, oh, um, oh…” Lauren’s voice grew louder as the sound of balls slapping against her promiscuous, betrothed, dripping cunt seared Corey’s ears.
Alex grunted in time to his powerful thrusts. Her arms would be holding him tight now, fingers clutching at his back as they copulated, face-to-face, cheek-to-cheek.
More sloppy kisses and tiny mewls. Little laughs and whispers in the dark between the moans. Corey listened intently as five minutes turned into fifteen, a gauntlet of emotions assaulting his senses. He was no fool. He recognized the signs. The intimacy…the passion…the tenderness. These were not two ships passing in the night. The couple wasn’t just fucking. They were making love.
“Yeah, baby, just like that. Just like that,” Lauren gasp.
“Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh,” Alex moaned incessantly.
After several minutes of semi-tender loving, Corey heard her whisper “Wait.”
The bed ceased to creak, and the impassioned sighs stopped. The voyeur husband leaned closer to his phone. There was movement to be sure, but it was impossible to say what was going on. It was only when Lauren finally spoke that it became clear.
” C’mon cowboy, mount me like a bull and fuck me like one of your heifers.”
Alex apparently wasted no time in sidling up behind her raised hips to take advantage of the offering before him, witnessed by the howl that rose from both lovers as the squeaking of the bed frame resumed.
Corey heard the ferocity of the coupling intensify. The next ten minutes proved to be exactly the opposite of the last, going from gentle lovemaking to raw, scorching sex.
It was hard to distinguish who was saying what through the tiny speakers, but a cacophony of “oh fucks, ohs shits, along with many oohs and ahhhs” filled the cabin. It was clear to Corey his wife’s world was being rocked.
“Oh my god, fuck me, oh shit, oh god, oh god, fuck me, oh my gawwwddd!
Alex could only grunt repetitively as he bore down on the filthy office executive’s leaking slit.
“Nnh, ah, nnh, ah, nnah!”
Corey pictured the Texan doggying his wife without mercy and tried to beat off in time with the man’s moans, matching his hand strokes to each cock thrust. He wished he could know more, to hear more. To be a part of it. Fortunately, his bride did not forget he was on the line.
“You like fucking my married cunt, don’t you, big man?” Lauren asked Alex between whimpers. “You fuck it soooo good!”
“Naggggg!”
“Make him a cuck, Alex. Make my husband a cuck! Let him listen how a real man makes me feel! Tell him how much you like fucking me!”
“Lauren,” Cartwright whispered. “That’s not right.”
More maniacal laughs.
“You like being in me? You want to stay there?”
“Yes!”
“Then tell him!”
“No.”
“Do it!”
A thud came across the phone, followed by both laughing.
“That’s it, ride my dick, baby!”
The cowboy was getting a cowgirl after all.
“Say it, Alex!”
He must have shaken his head.
“Say it!”
“OH GOD, Lauren, JUST LIKE THAT!”
“SAY IT, ALEX!”
“YES, OKAY, SHIT! God, I love fucking your wife, man! How THE HELL can you let me do this?”
More gasps and grunts.
Corey nearly came, but held on, remembering the wisdom Chloe had shared with him. “Once you’re done down there, you’re done up here” she had said pointing at his head.
It didn’t really matter. The sounds of torrid sex continued to punch relentlessly through the phone.
“Fuck me, oh fuck me,” Lauren implored repeatedly. Her filthy mouth went off on a rampage.
“Oh God, please FUCK me.
“Pull my hair!
“Give me that cock DEEP, baby!
“Slap my tits!
“Don’t you dare stop!
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyowwww!”
Corey pictured his wife bouncing on top of the big man, their naked bodies writhing together, her shiny mane hanging down in his face while they raced to a mutual climax.
“Oh, oh, oh!
“Nnnnggggggghhhhh…!”
“Yes, yes, yes!”
Corey’s right hand was a blur on his cock while the other fingered his large nipples. He didn’t know how much longer he could last.
“You fuck me so much better than my husband!”
“Oh yeah, baby,” Alex looked to the ceiling, trying to last just a bit longer. “Fucking you good!”
“YES, YES, YES, your big cock is gonna make me cum! Thirty years and I’ve never cum like this! Never, ever stop fucking me!”
“Shhh, your husband is listening…”
“FUCK HIM! All he’d be doing is watching us anyway, the goddmn perv! NOW FUCK ME! I want to cum!”
“Do it for ME Lauren, then! Cum for ME!”
Corey winced at another man telling his wife to cum. But it hurt so good.
Fap, fap, fap.
As the coupling entered its crescendo, the sounds of carnal pleasure devolved into a series of animalistic grunts, gasps and howls. Corey knew the pair would soon be collapsing in each other’s arms, completely exhausted.
“Oooooooooooooooooooh, baby,” Lauren yelled, “I’m there! I’m there! Gonna cum!”
“Shit, me too!” Alex bellowed, no longer able to hold off. “Where?”
“In me! Cum in me! Let me feel your love coat my whore pussy!”
It was the perfect storm. He’d never had a girl talk like that before and the nasty words sent him over the edge, roaring like a true bull as he shot his spunk deep into the warm, sticky recesses of her pink hole. Lauren reached the top of her rollercoaster just as she felt the hot load explode in her, sending her screaming into a free fall.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO AAAAHHHHHHHHH EEEEEEEEEE!”
The unmistakable sounds of ear-splitting orgasms fifteen hundred miles away quickly escalated Corey’s own release, sending weak spurts of semen splattering over his sweatpants and hands. Waves of ecstasy poured through the speakers until the couple did indeed collapse into each other’s arms, Lauren laying her head on Alex’s chest trying to catch her breath.
Pulling a woolly sock off a foot to wipe up the mess, the third wheel husband struggled to catch the aftermath the best he could through the small speakers. It was at first very quiet, with only occasional sighs and kisses. Then came the soft giggles and whispering.
Whispering and giggles.
Giggles and whispering.
Not everything was discernible, but Corey heard enough.
“That was amazing.
“Incredible.
“This day has been very special.
“So glad we met.
“Can I see you again?”
“Come here, you.”
Corey frowned as his eyes teared up. In his post-nut clarity, it became clear that Alex and his wife were sharing an intimacy not yet seen between her and her other lovers. What he was hearing was true pillow talk, the kind that fostered feelings that could lead to a longer relationship. One that may not include him.
With the fresh smell of self-induced cum stinging his nostrils, Corey pondered – as he often did – whether he’d pushed things too far…again. This new dynamic could very well signal a whole new chapter in their lives and it may be one with some undesirable permanency.
The Sunday night darkness closed in around him as his shaking hand picked up the remote and turned off the television.
The game simply didn’t matter anymore.
Did anything?
+++++
Zane Picardo looked with disgust at the cell phone vibrating on the work bench in his home garage. It was the third time ringing in the last fifteen minutes. Didn’t people know Sunday evenings were the only time he had to maintain the love of his life? It would soon be spring and riding season was just around the corner. Ignoring the interruption, he continued to work the chromium steel wrench against a rather difficult nut. Bessy was getting up in years and she could sometimes be a bitch. Just as he was able to break it free, the doorbell rang.
“No fuckin’ way.”
Wiping his hands on a shop towel, the biker walked across the blue epoxied floor and into his house, looking at the clock in the foyer as he moved towards the front door.
Ten o’clock.
“Somethin’ better be on fire,” he growled, throwing open the door.
To his relief, nothing was. It was just his goddaughter, probably the last person he would have expected.
“Hi Unca Zane!” Caroline Miller stood before him with a suitcase in hand, shivering. “A fire would be good right about now.”
“Hey, girl, get your ass in here. What’s wrong?”
“Nuthhhin'”, the young high school counselor replied playfully. “Can’t a goddaughter see her godfather once in a while?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. But we just did at Thanksgiving though, so…”
“Well, I was on my way back to Colorado from visiting Mom, so I stopped over to see from friends. And now you! I tried to call first, but no answer.”
Zane watched as she shrugged off a thick white parka and carefully hung it in the coat closet. He couldn’t help notice how nicely she filled out a form fitting cream-colored ribbed turtleneck sweater and designer jeans. A spitting image of her mother…with bigger breasts.
“All good in the mountains?”
“Snowing its ass off right now. My flight goes out tomorrow afternoon, but not looking good.”
“That sucks. Where are you staying?”
Caroline stuffed her hands in her back pockets and fixed him with large puppy dog eyes. The net effect with her chest thrust out was somewhere between provocative and childish. “That’s sort of a problem. You see, I was staying at my girlfriend’s Stephanie’s place, but she’s got the flu now and I don’t want to get sick.”
“Makes sense. But you’ve got lots of friends.”
“They all have one-bedrooms and boyfriends.”
“Your dad?”
“Bed’s torn apart for the move.”
The mechanic began to see the writing on the wall. A month ago, having her stay with him wouldn’t have been a big deal. But now, since the Ashley date…
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Cee. Let me get you a nice hotel room.”
“Already called ’em all. Not a damn bed available,” Caroline lamented, shaking her head dramatically.
Zane sighed. That much he believed. There was a huge convention in town.
“Okay, you can take the guest bedroom. I’ll see if my buddy Clyde can run you to the airport tomorrow while I’m at work.”
‘THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU Uncle Zane!” Caroline exclaimed, hugging his neck, her abundant sweater pressed snugly against his chest. “I owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it. Room’s down the hall and to the right. Kitchen is that way. Fridge has beer, sandwich meat, and beer. Take your pick. I’ll be out in the garage if you need anything.”
“Thanks! You won’t regret this.”
Don’t be too sure about that, the biker thought to himself as he forced his eyes away from the tight little butt walking down the hallway.
Suddenly he felt a great need to be back in the cold garage.
+++++